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From the Theater Hosts, Emergency Theater Live..

Below lies the Episode Guide for all Emergency! productions 
being created at Voyagerliveaction.com thus far.  51 series
episode stories to date. Six more of movie length still
in production at the writing site.

****WARNING**** These are story spoilers and will take
away plot surprises if you read them now before viewing
any of the screengrab illustrated, music soundtracked originals.

Decide now if you want to read what each episode is
about before doing so.

 

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1. Full Moon Blues- EmergencyTheaterLive Ep 1, Season1 
The gang of Station 51 loses sleep over a bizarre string of runs. 
The situation only worsens when the biggest disaster call of a 
lifetime pays a visit close to home.
 
Chapters: 2 - Words: 48683  Published: April 2003

2. Father And Son- EmergencyTheaterLive Ep2, Season1 
Dr. Brackett gets a headache when his father moves into town. The 
crew of Station 51 get a surprise on their doorstep and face a 
creepshow batch of rescues.
 
Chapters: 1 - Words: 38059   Published: May 2003

3. Juxtaposition- EmergencyTheaterLive Ep3, Season1 
Roy DeSoto faces every father's nightmare when his son is 
trapped in a mudslide. The gang deals with child loss up 
close.
 
Chapters: 1 - Words: 21406  Published: June 2003

4. Within Sight- EmergencyTheaterLive Ep4, Season1  
A late night visitor to Station 51 starts mayhem when an arson 
gang takes on the town. As a result, one of the best, may be 
leaving.
 
Chapters: 1 - Words: 28163  Published: July 2003

5. Integrity Game- EmergencyTheaterLive Ep5, Season1 
Johnny inherits a four footed friend and Dr. Brackett gets more 
than he bargains for on vacation.
 
Chapters: 1 - Words: 17125  Published: August 2003

6. The Golden Horn- EmergencyTheaterLive Ep6, Season1 
Captain Stanley comes face to face with a real hero and a 
brush fire threatens the lives and vehicles of Station 51.

 Chapters: 1 - Words: 31775  Published: October 2003

7. Crazy Days- EmergencyTheaterLive Ep7, Season1 
Think you've had a bad day? Just wait until you find out what 
happened to the gang of Station 51 and Rampart.
 
Chapters: 1 - Words: 24491  Published: November 2003

8. The Promise- EmergencyTheaterLive Ep 8, Season1 
What matters most is what everybody wants. Johnny Gage 
learns the power of a promise to Roy when a water tower 
collapse traps them both underwater.
 
 Chapters: 1 - Words: 22871 - Published: December 2003

9. Green Pen Of Johnny's- EmergencyTheaterLive Ep 9, Season1 
Find out why Johnny carries his green pens with him 
everywhere he goes. An airborne disaster stuns the city 
of Torrance.

Chapters: 1 - Words: 39288 - Published: Jan-March 2004

10. From Loaves To Fishes- EmergencyTheaterLive Ep 10, Season2
One big mountain, one very, very small crew. The gang misses their
state of the art fire station and vehicles dearly when a firestorm 
surrounds them on a boyscout river kayak trip event.

Chapters: 1 - Words: 15732  Published: June-July 2004

11. Shadows Of The Past- EmergencyTheaterLive Ep 11, Season2
Santa Rosa county teaches the crew of 51's a valuable lesson
on life. Then it tries to take it away again in the worst manner
possible. Vacation spells relaxation for everyone, er...to a point.

Chapters: 1 - Words: 11345  Published: June 2004

12. Crossing The Red Line- EmergencyTheaterLive Ep 12, Season2
Mike Stoker feels the heat when crewmates and the engine get into
more than just a little hot water. The city of Carson suffers catastrophe.
 
Chapters: 1 - Words: 10567  Published: July 2004

13. The White Engine-EmergencyTheaterLive Ep 13,  Season2
The gang tries out a prototype engine and they learn how
faithful man's best friend really is at a house fire.
  
Chapters: 1 - Words: 14582  Published: August 2004

14. Twisted- EmergencyTheaterLive Ep 14, Season2
A mile long moving disaster incites life or death decisions 
for both Rampart and Station 51. 
 
Chapters: 1 - Words: 27423  Published: September 2004

15. 00:51- EmergencyTheaterLive Ep 15, Season2
Dixie's day off incites a riot of rescuing.  
A high angle recovery tries Roy and Johnny's 
penultimate paramedic skills. 

Chapters: 1 - Words: 30004  Published:  October 2004

16. Devil's Due-EmergencyTheaterLive Ep 16, Season2
Roy and Johnny inadvertantly meet two Bay City detectives named 
Starsky and Hutch and get themselves entangled in a web of intrigue 
when a criminal kidnaps the child of one of their patients.

Chapters: 1 - Words: 21012 Published: November 2004

17. That Latin Flair-EmergencyTheaterLive  Ep17, Season2
A vision leaves Marco circumspect around the holidays 
and inspires Roy and Johnny to do charity work for his church group.

Chapters:  1 - Words: 17654 Published: Dec/January2005

18. A Fish Out Of Water-EmergencyTheaterLive  Ep18,Season3
Station 51 gets wet working with the Baywatch lifeguards of Malibu.
A myth almost drowns one of the guards but a miracle, saves him.
Chris DeSoto learns Baywatch rescue skills.

Chapters: 1 - Words: 29590  Published: February 2005

19. Sacred Ground-EmergencyTheaterLive  Ep19,Season3
Johnny has a mishap at the station that makes him seek
a tribal elder. A heavy storm spreads ill for the whole
fire department county wide. 

Chapters: 1 - Words: 18350 Published: March 2005

20. Recertification-EmergencyTheaterLive  Ep20,Season3
Station 51's gang gets buried in rubble during a robbery on
a mall and casino. Can Dr. Brackett save them in time?
  
Chapters: 1 - Words: 12401 Published: April 2005

21. Devil Winds-EmergencyTheaterLive  Ep21,Season3
Captain Stanley and the staff of Rampart get stressed 
with the return of the Santa Ana winds in autumn. Wide
spread chaos rules the night and far away from the city
streets. Station 51 attempts the impossible.

Chapters: 1 - Words: 22905 Published: May 2005 

22. In Certain Terms-EmergencyTheaterLive  Ep22,Season3
McConnike raises hairs in the gang and the crew of Station 51
faces a loss no firefighter should bear.

Chapters: 1 - Words: 23510 Published: June 2005

23. The One That Matters-EmergencyTheaterLive Ep23,Season3
The unexpected arrives from a surprise source and Mike Stoker 
finds that he's the unwilling target of an adolescent fire buff.

Chapters: 1 - Words: 21112 Published: July 2005

24.  S.n.a.f.u.-EmergencyTheaterLive Ep24,Season3
Nothing runs normal for anyone working during a weeknight
at Rampart Hospital and Station 51 and the gang faces h*llfire
and water in an attempt to end a string of horribly bad luck.

Chapters: 1 - Words:  25071 Published: August 2005 

25. The Overhaul Principle-EmergencyTheaterLive Ep25,Season4
A Gage rival comes to roost at the station. Rampart comes under 
fire and Dixie inherits the position of head of triage.

Chapters: 1 - Words: 29034 Published October 2005

26.The Shallow Light-EmergencyTheaterLive Ep26,Season4
Johnny declares war on a fast food stand. Station 51 answers 
rescues involving the very young and learns a lesson from them.  

Chapters: 1 - Words: 31955 Published November 2005

27. HeavyDuty-EmergencyTheaterLive Ep27,Season4
Old flames clash when things heat up a little too much at 
Rampart Hospital. Station 51 struggles through a heavy day of duty.

Chapters: 1 - Words: 42394 Published December 2005

28. SmokeScreen-EmergencyTheaterLive Ep28,Season4
Johnny Gage gets a rap from a pair of detectives on Christmas 
Eve and an old, rich bum comes back to help out the gang.

Chapters: 1 - Words: 60231 Published January 2006

29. WhereTheWindBlows-EmergencyTheaterLive Ep29,Season4
Station 51 meets an icon. The wind causes trouble both in
the city and out in the countryside.

Chapters: 1 - Words 71222 Published February 2006

30. Eligibility-EmergencyTheaterLive Ep30,Season4
A battle rages between Kelly and Gage for an opening captain's 
spot at Station 51. The very nature of sleep haunts the gang and 
their patients.

Chapters: 1 - Words 82003 Published March 2006

31. All That Glitters-EmergencyTheaterLive Ep31,Season5
Chet's luck isn't as good as he thinks it is the day
Johnny goes money grubbing with the best of them.

Chapters: 1 - Words 71114 Published April 2006

32. Water Day Saints-EmergencyTheaterLive Ep32,Season5
Water and air are either allies or enemies for Station 51
amid triage chaos at both Rampart and on the street.

Chapters: 1 - Words 91338 Published May 2006

33. California Dreamin'-EmergencyTheaterLive Ep33,Season5
Vacation off the mainland proves work never ends for
the gang of 51's. Mike Stoker faces the scare of his life.

Chapters: 1 - Words 100204 Published June 2006

34. No Sooner Said... -EmergencyTheaterLive Ep34,Season5
A feud between Chet and Johnny takes on new meaning during
an excavation fire. A hero proves his worth with action.

Chapters: 1 - Words 17455 Published July 2006

35. Captain's Prerogative-EmergencyTheaterLive Ep35,Season5
A disaster stuns Captain Stanley and an action taken leaves Gage 
unaccountably bitter. Craig Brice proves an unexpected balm.

Chapters: 1 - Words 11232 Published August 2006

36. Tower Drill-EmergencyTheaterLive Ep36,Season5
Station 51 becomes instructors for the day at the fire academy.
An old nemesis makes a return play on Gage and DeSoto.

Chapters: 1 - Words 19325 Published September 2006

37. Primary Complaint-EmergencyTheaterLive Ep37,Season5
Roy DeSoto faces a life changing event during a rescue.
Johnny becomes infatuated with an impossibility.

Chapters: 1 - Words 21999 Published October 2006

38. A.M.A.-EmergencyTheaterLive Ep38,Season5
The gang lives vicariously at the circus during a
paramedic program promotion gig. A young couple learns
a hard lesson about going against medical advice.

Chapters: 1 - Words 17003 Published November 2006

39. Burnout-EmergencyTheaterLive Ep39,Season5
Station 51 feels the sting of no sleep and the 
fury of an oil refinery fire. Will Chet ever learn 
his lesson? 

Chapters:  1 - Words 14555 Published December 2006

40. Canine Capers-EmergencyTheaterLive Ep40,Season6
Captain Stanley experiences the innocence of a little girl
from the Make A Wish Foundation. Station 51 becomes overrun
by dogs on the prowl. :)

Chapters: 1 - Words 12003 Published January 2007

41. Attrition-EmergencyTheaterLive Ep41,Season6
Roy and Johnny go nuts while giving a schoolhouse demonstration.
The 51 gang's world is turned upside down when the unexpected happens.

Chapters: 1 - Words 15888 Published February 2007

42. Pilot Light-EmergencyTheaterLive Ep42,Season6
Gage gets creative making senior paramedic runs a little easier.
A warehouse fire proves just how good a firefighter's mettle can be.

Chapters: 1 - Words 20333 Published March 2007

43. The Quint Connection-EmergencyTheaterLive Ep43,Season6
Chet Kelly's engineer's test becomes a critical skill during
a skiing weekend at Lake Tahoe. Dixie learns she hates the cold.

Chapters: 1 - Words 31959 Published April 2007 

44. Pump Peculiarities-EmergencyTheaterLive Ep44,Season6
One person effects the lives of everyone at Rampart Hospital
and Station 51. Stoker is moved to action when the unthinkable happens.

Chapters: 1 - Words 45055 Published May 2007

45. Richter Six-by Michael Donovan©-UniversalStudios/MarkVIIProductions©
Ep45,Season6. Roy and Johnny relive a flashback about a county wide earthquake 
they worked while teaching paramedic class. Joe Early struggles to save a little girl
and the gang, Chet Kelly. Script Dialogue and premise by Michael Donovan©.

Chapters: 1  Words:  19544. Published June 2007

46. The Long Hours-EmergencyTheaterLive Ep46,Season6
The gang rescues friend and victim at the pier. Waiting becomes
especially hard when complications develop post rescue for all.

Chapters: 1 Words:  12044 Published July 2007

47. I.V. Push-EmergencyTheaterLive Ep47,Season6
A storm unsettles the gang and a lost girl claims ties with
Johnny Gage. CHiPs Ponch and Jon aid a cliffside rescue.

Chapters: 1 Words:  11008 Published August 2007

48.Hostage--by Susan Keenan©-UniversalStudios/MarkVIIProductions©
Ep48, Season6. Moods are down when friends fall and a when a foe 
comes to pay a call on Squad 51. Will Rampart's think tank save the 
day in time?

Chapters: 1 - Words: 18683  Published: October 2007

49.The Helper's High-EmergencyTheaterLive Ep48, Season6
Bullets fly while Stoker struggles to fill some very large shoes
in the wake of a personnel shortage in L.A. County.

Chapters: 1 - Words:  23444 Published: November/December 2007

50.The Other Side-EmergencyTheaterLive Ep50, Season6
Station 51 squirms under a lull of no calls as Rampart becomes
the eye of the action hurricane. The staff of both struggles to help
a crisis with Nurse Sharon Walters.

Chapters: 1 - Words:  31444 Published: January/February 2008

51.What's A Dedicated Captain Like You Doing..-ETL Ep51,Season6 
Captains Roy and Johnny relive the best and the worst of their lives
after leaving Station 51 upon their promotion.  SEASON FINALE.

Chapters: 1 - Words: 56998 Published: March/April 2008


A. The Face In The Mirror- EmergencyTheaterLive Special  2003
Roy DeSoto makes a mistake in the field and faces the 
possibility of losing his job. The gang responds to a fogbanked 
multicar pileup and run into trouble.

Chapters: 1 - Words: 23657  Published: September 2003

B. Too Close To Home- EmergencyTheaterLive Special  2004
The gang at Station 51 enjoy Roy's discomforture over his 
superstition about DeSoto family vacations always getting 
cancelled. The gang gets sucked into another of Chet Kelly's 
half hazard schemes by getting talked into buying a racehorse.
 
Chapters: 1 - Words: 16211  Published: August 2004


Movie Special One- The Fire Within -ETL MovieOne, Season7
Station 51 trains with airport firefighters and runs into the unexpected 
on a deer hunting trip in New York State involving medical park 
rangers who help them rescue a lost boy with a chopper pilot 
and a pair of luckless kayakers. An icy disaster involving a 
jumbo jet and the airport terminal leads to conditions that 
threaten the lives of Station 51's crew.

Chapters: 1 - Words:  121956  Published: June-December 2009


From the ETL Hosts:

Emergency Theater Live Episodes- Rescue Logs
-------------------------------------------------------------------

This is a more detailed version of the ETL Episode Guide
and includes a synopsis of each story's plot events 
and a rundown of what rescues happened in the episodes.

Following these, is a tally of injuries in a by-the-episode 
running total sustained by each of the main and supporting 
characters to date.


Titles and Episode Order  
-----------------------------------

1. Full Moon Blues- 
2. Father And Son-  
3. Juxtaposition-  
4. Within Sight-  
5. Integrity Game-  
6. The Golden Horn-  
7. Crazy Days-  
8. The Promise-  
9. Green Pen Of Johnny's- 
10. From Loaves To Fishes- 
11. Shadows Of The Past- 
12. Crossing The Red Line-
13. The White Engine-
14. Twisted- 
15. 00:51- 
16. Devil's Due-
17. That Latin Flair-
18. A Fish Out Of Water-
19. Sacred Ground-
20. Recertification-
21. Devil Winds-
22. In Certain Terms-
23. The One That Matters-
24.  S.n.a.f.u.-
25. The Overhaul Principle-
26. The Shallow Light-
27. HeavyDuty-
28. SmokeScreen-
29. WhereTheWindBlows-
30. Eligibility-
31. All That Glitters-
32. Water Day Saints-
33. California Dreamin'-
34. No Sooner Said- 
35. Captain's Prerogative- 
36. Tower Drill- 
37. Primary Complaint-
38. A.M.A.-
39. Burnout- 
40. Canine Capers-
41. Attrition- 
42. Pilot Light- 
43. The Quint Connection-
44. Pump Peculiarities-
45. Richter Six (by Michael Donovan©)-
46.The Long Hours- 
47. I.V.Push-  
48. Hostage-(by Susan Keenan©)-
49. The Helper's High- 
50. The Other Side
51. What's A Dedicated Captain Like You Doing.. 
Special A. The Face In The Mirror-  
Special B. Too Close To Home- 
52. Movie One- The Fire Within 
53. Movie Two- ((as yet untitled)) ( still in production )     


****WARNING**** The information below is story spoiling and will take
away plot surprises if you read them now before viewing
any of the screengrab illustrated, music soundtracked originals.

Decide now if you want to read what each episode is
about before doing so.
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1. Full Moon Blues- SEASON PREMIERE

Johnny is stuck with a floor messing Bonnie in the bunkroom.
The gang answers a dumpster fire and the squad gets stolen by
drug users. Gage and DeSoto fuss over a sore throated Marco.
An earthquake hits the station and collapses it. Cap is knocked
out by falling debris, Marco's gassed in the kitchen from broken
pipes and Johnny's buried under the hose tower and gets hand 
stabbed in the yard. The station gang gets quarantined in the middle
of the disaster operations with Paramedic Craig Brice when Marco's 
discovered to have an ebola type retrovirus. Brackett and Squad 51 
rescues a firefighter hit by a falling radio tower. A cure is found in the 
milk of flying fox bats by a team of CDC doctors from Atlanta flown in 
by the airforce.The gang gets a calm period of rest after the station 
gets rebuilt.

2. Father And Son-

Kel Brackett makes a phone call to his estranged father to
reestablish ties with him after many years of silence.
Cap finds a puppy basket on the doorstep of the station.
The gang answers an unknown type rescue at a movie mansion
house looking like it's haunted. They find a kindly, cookie baking 
asthmatic with sepsis. The station handles an overturned 
anhydrous ammonia truck leaking a toxic cloud. Chet gets exposed 
and lung burned and a ruptured spleen during a desperate last second 
escape from the scene using the squad.  The gang rescues an 
entrapped woman driver from under the truck. Kelly undergoes surgery
for trauma sustained from his running fall during the truck rescue escape. 
Chet sneaks the station's wild resident mouse into Rampart. The squad 
answers a child skate boarder call. The gang returns to a second call to 
the movie mansion for a man down, but they find a fallen caretaker woman. 
Johnny gets trapped in the house's maze and falls down a flight of spring 
loaded stairs after hitting his head. Brice is called out to respond. Johnny 
awakens in Rampart and remembers seeing a "body" in the basement so 
the gang responds back to the house. They find a dummy and the male 
caretaker trapped in an iron maiden. Station 51 gives the lost puppy to 
the movie mansion caretakers. Kel Brackett makes amends with his parents.

3. Juxtaposition-

Roy has feelings of dread during a rainy day. The station
responds to a mudslide school bus accident. They rescue several
students and the driver only to find a leg entrapped Chris DeSoto
there as well. Marco nearly drowns in mud when the bus gets buried
by another slide, entrapping Johnny, Roy, Chet and Marco inside
of it. They meet a good luck charmed, miraculous fellow firefighter named
Detello. DeSoto suffers a crisis when a child he loses down a storm drain's
body is found the next day in the L.A. river bed. Chet takes Roy's
place during a diabetic rescue on Johnny's orders. The station
responds to a school fire and Roy makes a child rescue count
with the assistance of the guardian angel like Detello.

4. Within Sight-

Chet accidently breaks his knuckles hitting the station punching
bag while working out anger over arsons who indirectly caused
Mike Stoker to be blinded by steam. A woman social worker 
works with Stoker to find a juvenile fire bug at a softball game being
played by project kids.  Squad 51 rescues an asthmatic child at
the game. Stoker teaches Chet how to be the station's fire engineer
while healing. A popsicle selling ex-fire captain is trapped in
a derelict fire station after it becomes the arson's next target. 
Stoker's favorite project kid is trapped as well, forcing Mike to
use Boot as a guide dog to go rescue them both. In a twist, Stoker
regains his sight only after the boy loses his permanently due to fire
heat. Boot adopts the blind little boy in the ball park. 

5. Integrity Game-

Kel Brackett goes on vacation with his parents. Station 51 responds
to a racetrack and treats several horse collided jockeys. Johnny
adopts one of the injured horses in a surprise promise made to
one of the victims. Detective Ron Crockett gets involved in an investigation
into the accident. The Bracketts' ferry catches on fire near Catalina
Island. Station 51 responds to rescue them. The racehorse insurance
fraud violator is caught on the burning ship in a sheer stroke of luck.
Station 51 buys the rights of Gage's trainer abused race horse from
the track in cooperation with him, in order to give the promising
colt to a jockey pair they previously treated at the track.

6. The Golden Horn-

A delivery man collapses at the station due to heat stroke and
is treated as a still alarm. Captain Stanley learns of
Chief McConnikee's death from a building collapse and the
gang takes the news hard. The gang responds to a car crash
in a regional park during a rainless lightning storm. They
treat a woman and her daughter for strange injuries. A brush fire's
ignited around them and causes Cap to order an immediate 
emergency evacuation using the station vehicles. The gang escapes,
but Engine 51 is badly damaged. Cap's found to be missing
soon after safety is reached. Blood is found at the mouth of
an old mine hole along with Cap's helmet and far below,
Hank hallucinates about McConnikee while bleeding badly 
as he hangs, trapped over the mouth of an underground whirlpool. 
Gage and Roy go down after him. Before a belt can be secured, 
Johnny and Cap fall and are swept away into an underwater quarry.
An apparition of McConnikee seems to aid in their rescue.
Hank visits McConnikee's wife to pay his respects for missing
the chief's funeral and receives the old hat he once burned
behind McConnikee's back as a joke. Hanks repairs the hat
and leaves it at McConnikee's gravesite in tribute to his hero.

7.  Crazy Days-

Dixie goes on the warpath looking for fresh coffee to grind for her 
empty pot at Rampart. Chet Kelly gets the third degree for gloating
over Marco's lost bet penalty of hanging hose in the backyard tower.
The gang answers an unknown rescue at the zoo, only to find no visitors,
and a crazed drug overdosed employee releasing all the animals from
their cages. Chet begins acting normally during lunch at the station,
driving Gage batty. Brackett offers to get Dixie some coffee and leaves
Rampart. Charlie the fire department mechanic finds out that he's got 
heart disease and is forced to retire from the vehicle shop. The gang
answers a strange call at the La Brea Tar Pits, and Brackett assists
them. Vince finds java for Dixie and a museum rewards the gang with
fossil bones. Roy learns the horror of a roof fire at his own house.
Henry, Boot, and Bonnie, all have a pillow feather fight in the bunk room.

8.  The Promise-

Johnny discovers Roy hiding a chest cold and treats him around
Cap at the station. Roy tries to hide his wife's third pregnancy.
The gang answers a truck crash hazardous materials call involving
freon and a search for a missing van of teenagers. A water tower
falls on Roy and Johnny trapping them underwater. An arrested girl 
Gage finds and abandons on scene for safety reasons turns out to 
be Dr. Morton's sister. Roy finds the wife and daughter of Johnny's 
deceased best friend in the heart of the disaster. Gage and Roy
make a pact to watch out for each other in a solemn promise. Johnny
learns Morton is pursuing a lawsuit for malpractice over his familial
loss. Engine 51 responds to a stabbing only to find Roy's wife in jeopardy.
Craig Brice responds to assist medically in his station's squad.
Gage writes a resignation letter and the gang goes through heroics to
rescue it from the post office network when he changes his mind.

9.  Green Pen Of Johnny's 

Station 51 answers an explosives factory fire where Johnny's
injured. Roy goes inside after a report of a little girl on a scaffolding
inside the burning warehouse. DeSoto takes refuge in an elevator
shaft with several other firefighters when a demolitions crew proves to
be the only people left who could save them from the fire.  Gage spends
the night at Rampart with a little girl from the factory fire and her green 
markers. Craig Brice shows up at the station to be his replacement. An 
airliner jet suffers a wing hydraulic problem in mid air and crashes in 
Rampart's parking lot, severely damaging the hospital. Gage and his 
child roommate fight for their lives, while escaping the fumes using the 
back halls of Rampart. Station 51 responds to the disaster scene and 
begins emergency triage. Dixie's found hurt in the hospital from flying 
glass. Brice's station crew is discovered missing at the jet crash scene.
Johnny tries to climb down the side of Rampart using a fire hose to
save himself and the little girl. Boot, the dog, discovers them trapped 
by located a scent on a green marker pen and summons help and rescue.
The little girl visits the gang later at the station and receives a medal 
for saving Gage's life by giving him atropine.  

10.  From Loaves To Fishes

Chet finds Johnny unloading hay in the station's backyard one morning 
and asks why. The station responds to a fuel truck crash on a mountain
side involving a highway tunnel. Gage and Roy are trapped inside
with chlorine gas leaking from storage tanks. They escape the
underground fire by using an emergency tunnel leading to a 
forest ranger's station now on a vigil over the new brush fire ignited
by the accident. They meet the Sierra rangers rescue unit and get
swept up into searching for some lost children at a riverside campsite 
before the fire gets there. Chet falls in love with the idea of horses.

11. Shadows Of The Past

The gang plans a revisit to the same Santa Rosa County resort town
that Roy and Johnny fell in love with a few months earlier. By a lakeshore,
Mike Stoker's nearly trapped in a satellite outhouse fire. Attracted to
the commotion, is a young college aged resort owner who invites them
to breakfast up the mountain. Once there, they learn about a feral 
dog pack problem plaguing the town from their old friend, Sheriff Bittner
and from Dr. Frick, the hippy rural doctor from the local clinic. Roy and Johnny
rush off to a neighbor's to deliver a baby. At the inn, dogs attack the rest
of the gang. Bittner suffers an angina attack. A flash flood reeks havoc on 
their the way to the hospital with the new mother and child and a mauled 
boy the doc found. The gang's separated from each other when they're 
washed away by a rising river. The inn girl struggles to revive the boy's
father when he drowns and is herself bitten by a snake. The gang, Sheriff
Bittner, and Doc Frick reunite in a thunderstorm and they launch a search 
for those still missing from their party. They find the inn girl and the boy's 
father by a sewage plant on the shoreline. In gratitude the townsfolk give
the visiting firefighters the best guided fishing tour of their lives.

12. Crossing The Red Line

The gang responds to an unknown type rescue at Carson City Hall.
There they find a man with drug like symptoms. Johnny stumbles and breaks 
his leg on a stairwell while patient moving. Roy finishes and leaves with
their victim in a Mayfair. Strangely, at the squad, Gage inexplicably collapses 
and quits breathing. The gang discovers fumes are to blame and launch an 
immediate evacuation of the city building. Without a paramedic at hand, Stoker's 
forced to use new training as an intermediate EMT to intubate Johnny. An 
actively producing meth lab is discovered in the basement. The station's barely 
clear using the squad and engine as evacuation vehicles when city hall 
disintegrates into a fireball bringing down the rest of the block around them. 
The gang finds refuge from the fire in a city morgue. Roy's ambulance
is discovered missing and they launch a search in the disaster zone to
recover their first victim and crew. Brackett and Dixie respond to the morgue to
assist with triaging victims. Johnny awakens and shows his gratitude to
Stoker by giving him the finer points on intubating people. Chet decides to 
become a paramedic.

13. The White Engine

Chet Kelly gets neck deep into a new secret invention. Gage discovers
a new fire engine in the backyard. But something's amiss. It's a pure white
prototype that's being loaned to them to test out without any need for the 
accompanying squad and with plenty of space for Henry to ride along with
them. They respond to a beach cliff house fire and tend to a burned senior
with Craig Brice and his partner. Roy transports the old woman. 
Henry finds three kids stuck up a tree, trapped by smoke. After their rescue, 
Chet discovers Henry missing and goes searching. He finds Henry 
unconscious on a hillside from smoke. Cap orders the new engine to transport 
the kids to Rampart while Gage and Chet try to treat Henry in the cab. 
Brackett is Dixie-tricked into working with the vet from the county animal shelter, 
Barney Coolidge, to care for Henry inside a parked Mayfair ambulance.
Chet demos his new invention, calling them shriek boxes. At a library fire,
Craig Brice burns his hand on a hot doorknob and Chet's new devices save
all of their lives when the ceiling comes down on top of them. 

14. Twisted

Roy and Johnny visits Craig Brice in the hospital and learn of an Amtrak 
train derailment. Belatedly, they're called out to triage a section of the
train. They treat multiple victims and find out that Dixie and Brackett
caught a helicopter ride to the scene and are doing triage nearby. Dixie
discovers Brice's paramedic partner, Bob Bellingham, on the train with
his newborn daughter. Dixie begins CPR on the night chilled infant. 
Roy and Johnny rescue a trapped boy and Marco finds a walking wounded.
Gage is attracted by Brackett's whistle and responds to Dixie's baby rescue.
Meanwhile, Dr. Morton suffers a meningitis exposure scare. Together, Kel 
and Gage treat the infant and evac her out by chopper. Roy discovers 
two people impaled on the same rod, a lawyer and the boy's mother, but 
only one of them can be attempted to save and he bulks deciding
which one. Brackett relieves him of their care. The lawyer and mother flip
a coin to decide who lives and who dies. Afterwards, Roy and Johnny strike
a motorcycler with the squad on the way to a food tent and are taken hostage
by the angry hispanic neighborhood bent on retaliation. Gage is found and
treated by Cap. Vince Howard, the police officer negotiates for Roy's release
after the head of the gang's mother suffers a heart attack. Marco translates
for all while he and others care for her in Johnny's stead. Gage receives
a hospital visit from Chet, Brice and Roy a few days later in an ironic reversal.

15.          00:51

Dixie is enjoying her day off as best as she can while nursing a cold.
While sun bathing, she witnesses and responds to a pool diving accident
and begins CPR after getting kids to help her rescue the teenaged boy.
Roy and Johnny respond to the call and perform an emergency needle crich
to establish an airway. Afterwards, Dixie faints and falls into the pool. She 
is rescued physically from danger but then refuses all emergency care despite 
her illness's symptoms. A dispute mounts and a police officer has to enforce a 
legal peace between everyone, citing Dixie's rights as a fully cognizant citizen. 
Joe Early, Kelly Brackett and the gang all work together to try and come up
with a scheme to get Dixie to come in and get checked out by a doctor.
Station 51 responds to a roller coaster accident and tangles with a cloud
of bees. Later that night, Dixie makes an emergency phone call to the firehouse
but collapses before saying anything. Roy and Stoker get a funny feeling and 
Roy asks for a silent code response to Dixie's house. Morton takes over the 
call when Dixie's found on the floor, unconscious. Joe and Brackett operate 
and repair her inflamed intestines following an appendectomy.

16.     Devil's Due

The gang gets antsy after forty eight hours and no runs. Roy entertains
a coffee OD'd Johnny on a supply run to Rampart and they visit with Adam-12.
Nearby, Detectives Dave Starsky and Ken Hutchinson chase a gunman
down an alley and find an assault victim battered by him. Squad 51 responds.
The detectives learn the injured woman's young son is being held hostage by
the criminal somewhere in the neighborhood.  Zebra Three runs escort
to the woman's Mayfair on the way to Rampart, playing chicken with a 
train to speed up the transport. A clue to the kidnapper's whereabouts 
materializes from what Roy and Johnny overhear during the mother's 
treatment. Starsky and Hutch go check out her residence for more leads.
Station 51 is assigned to medical standby during the hostage standoff
that results. The two Bay City detectives pose as firefighters with the gang 
and undercover, they infiltrate the gunman beseiged business tower along
with the night suave informant, Huggy Bear. They discover the missing boy 
in the power cut building, and a bomb. Fleeing, by hand lowering an elevator 
down its descent shaft, everyone braces for its detonation. It comes and the 
elevator plummets, carrying them down into a fire sprinkler filled sub-basement. 
On search, a frantic Stanley and fire crews find the trapped bunch. Chet Kelly 
revives a nearly drown David Starsky. Later, they all visit the recovering
assaulted mom and child pair and return heirlooms the kidnapper stole to 
finance his sniper and kidnapping incident.

17.      That Latin Flair

Around the holidays, Station 51 responds to a car roll over near
the L.A. River bed. They discover a passenger pinned under
power wires and a missing ejected driver. While attempting to
free the trapped man, Marco Lopez suffers an electrical shock
which accelerates his heart dangerously. Roy and Johnny are forced
to cardiovert him to prevent heart arrest. Lopez experiences a life
after death vision of his dead father during the cardioversion and it
changes him emotionally. The gang finds the second man's body
in the riverbed. A week later, the gang helps the healing Marco aid
a soup kitchen. Teenagers start a fire there and Roy and Johnny mount
multiple rescues of the children and volunteers trapped inside the fast
spreading grease fire. Chet's hands are burned getting a victim out.
Later, Squad 51 responds to a finger hammered fainted man and 
bail out a dog pinned treed postman. Dixie offers to cook the gang 
Christmas dinner at the station and pulls a mistletoe joke on Roy and 
Johnny. At an L.A. Headquarters New Year's Eve party, Marco talks
about his life after death experience with a boy who very nearly suffered
the same thing during the soup kitchen fire and finds solace.

18.      A Fish Out Of Water

A little girl in a daycare center suffers a seizure. Squad 51 responds.
Across town, a beach cop, Garner Ellerbee, of Baywatch, begins a
patrol. Several Baywatch lifeguards get wrapped up in rescues, reports of
an escaped naval dolphin and a burglar stealing stolen artifacts from
a museum exhibit about the missing continent of Atlantis. One of the lifeguards
thinks he sees a mermaid swimming in the surf on the day Station 51 offers to
teach the lifeguard scout children CPR and nearly drowns from heatstroke.
Roy and Johnny effect his rescue along with the County Baywatch Lifeguards.
The head lifeguard lieutenant Mitch Buchanon's son, Hobie, finds the missing 
trained dolphin and a mysterious paraplegic woman ex-naval animal trainer 
who seems to know the skillful mammal. Policeman Vince Howard and a lifeguard 
named Craig Pomeroy catch the beach crook after a vehicle chase that 
turns into another surf rescue. Hobie and Roy's son Chris, befriend the little
seizure girl from the daycare center who's attending junior lifeguards. They get
into trouble on a stony pier when an oil leak from an oceanic drainage pipe 
catches on fire. Both the Station 51 gang and Baywatch operations crews
mount a rescue of the children and the paralyzed woman trainer who is 
discovered to be the little daycare girl's mother, riding the back of the escaped 
dolphin. Later, at the zoo, Hobie and Chris muse over missing the navy returned 
dolphin while Roy and Johnny wonder what it would be like to become Baywatch 
lifeguards.

19. Sacred Ground

Johnny Gage suffers a mishap at the station which causes him to seek
out a tribal elder for a purification ceremony. Johnny becomes
obssessed with atoning for his previously lost spleen which he failed to
do a year earlier. Charlie the mechanic's notified of the dent Johnny's 
falling face made into one of the squad's door. Gage and Roy attend 
a tribal prayer session at a curioshop. Johnny learns a frightening 
premonition from a shaman. Station 51 responds to a child jumper call 
at the request of two CHiPs officers, Frank Poncherello and John Baker. 
They all rescue a suicidal young cancer patient in heavy rain from a high 
rise ledge. Charlie the fire department mechanic coerces Boot the dog 
into inviting the gang into playing a Twister Game. Station 51 responds to
a college house prank of the worst kind. Station 51 is asked to respond to 
L.A. Headquarters itself for a power outtage check when their radio fails.
They discover Sam Lanier, the dispatcher, collapsed on his communications 
board. Johnny suffers doubts and desecrates his personal prayer sack at 
Rampart. The next morning, Johnny dreams a dream sent by his shaman 
and regains his faith when he learns about a friend's death. Johnny, 
grieving, delivers an eloquent eulogy at the memorial service.

20.  Recertification

Kel Brackett feels the brunt of writing new paramedic protocols for
the county and the agony of change filters down to Johnny and Roy.
Station 51 responds to a shopping mall aerial walkway collapse.
Roy and Johnny crawl into a buried escalator after some victims.
Criminals use the disaster to try and knock off a mall run casino
and in the process, Captain Stanley's shot. A further collapse buries
the gang and the casino's surveillance and security department pulls 
out all the stops to aid the firefighters. Brackett responds to assist
with triaging Hank's emergency surgery through a hole in the escalator. 
Dixie has some fun during a paramedic hospital meeting in the end.

21.   Devil Winds

Hank Stanley suffers from anticipating the start of the Santa Ana
winds season. Mike Stoker displays a hobby of predicting brush
fire versus wind intensity using maps. Station 51 responds to the 
first wind related rescue call of the season, a cessna hanging from 
powerlines. Rampart is swamped with minor category idiot ER phone 
calls, driving Dixie batty. Roy and Johnny lighten her load. Gage frets
about his ranch, when Stoker predicts it to be in a red critical zone for
fire risk. Station 51 gets called into the foothills on firestorm standby.
Squad 51 treats a fireline firefighter for smoke inhalation and rescue
Johnny's aunt from his ranch's burning caretaker's house. A tree 
torched barn puts Dixie in jeopardy, enticing a rescue using a horse.

22.  In Certain Terms

Dix and Kel share conmiserations about a busy day at Rampart.
Station 51 scrambles to thwart yet another surprise inspection by
Fire Chief McConnikee. Station 51 responds to a violent drug overdose 
call. En route to Rampart, their ambulance is halted by a nearby landslide
and fire ants end the rescue abruptly. Attention shifts to a slide victim, a 
young boy in cardiac difficulty. Rampart worries about 51's cut off
radio status. Station 51 responds to a man trapped under his slide
toppled house and get basement hole buried in the process. Rescued,
they mull over an invention Chet created that'll ease ambulance-in-motion 
CPR. 

23. The One That Matters

Gage complains about running out of uniforms one morning at
the station. Bonnie is discovered guarding Johnny's ball of socks 
on his bunk. She's soon found to be in late labor and the father's 
speculated horribly to be Boot, raising concerns for delivery problems.
Les Taylor and Dave Gordon from the L.A. County animal pound of the 
tiger-in-a-meat-shop fame are called in to emergency assist. Cap calls
Rampart as backup and gets an off duty Morton and Dixie to come to
the station. Station 51 gets a sports injury call at a high school. 
Stoker gets a voiceless hang up caller that puzzles all. Later, Dixie learns
the mystery caller to the station is a young artist woman committing 
suicide by plant seed pod ingestion who's got a crush on Stoker. 
A clue in the form of a singing canary over the phone line provides
the last bit of information on the girl's location. They save her from 
pool drowning at the last possible second. Mike Stoker decides to keep 
in touch with the depressed minor through her future chaperoned counseling
sessions to help her heal faster. He promises her one of Bonnie's newborn 
pups as a token of friendship.

24.   S.N.A.F.U. 

A fever sick Dr. Brackett crashes his sports car into a tree and Station 51 
responds to free and treat him. Joe Early and Dixie McCall organize his surgical
teams. The gang decides to BBQ at Stoker's house for some weekend R&R.
Unexpected lightning strikes Chet and Roy on the patio from the sky above
the golf course. Gage struggles to keep DeSoto viable. At Rampart, Kel 
saves a fellow patient from a broken off I.V. catheter moving through an arm. 
Dixie and Kel renew romantic ties. The gang visits those injured at Rampart,
bringing a cake. Station 51 handles a massive rescue effort during a burst 
water dam incident. In the process, grisly evidence of a mass murderer are
discovered during their swift water rescue. The staff at Rampart discuss the 
week's snafu effect with their doctor and paramedic patients after the call 
is over.

25.  The Overhaul Principle

Johnny goes to nap in the bunkroom and wakes up hours later
to find Brice checking his lifesigns at his neck. Gage learns of Paramedic
Craig Brice's transfer to his work shift. He and the gang respond to a gravel
works accident involving a conveyer belt and a heatstroked child rock 
buried in a car. Fatigue afterwards causes Gage to fall asleep in the squad.
Marco and Cap both feel trepidations about the bad gravel works call and talk
about it privately. Brice and Gage set up a mutual joke for the rest of the station
gang to suffer and they bring Kel, Joe and Dixie in on it, too. Nurse Carol and Dr.
Early are caught in a hostage situation when a disgruntled patient pulls out
a gun at Rampart. Police Officers Jim Reed and Pete Malloy of Adam 12 arrive 
with Station 51 when a fire alarm at the hospital is pulled. Dixie treats a shot 
orderly and shows a student nurse how to triage when she becomes head of 
triage during the Code Dr. Black, lethal weapons used emergency. Joe
Early is found head injured and being held hostage by the rampant patient's
wife in the man's patient room. Johnny and Brice effect a clever rescue. Later,
they spring their joke on the others at the station using a parade route and a box
of soda cans.

26. The Shallow Light

Johnny Gage declares war against a hotdog stand owner. Squad 51 
responds to a child trouble breathing call that turns out to be epiglottitis. 
The boy's cocaine addicted mother is handled by officer Vince Howard 
and his partner when she interferes with the rescue, endangering her son.
Joe Early helps the druggie mother and her kids out at Rampart with advice.
Roy shows up to work grumpy about a visiting mother in law and Chet falls 
for another water can Phantom joke planted by Gage. Station 51 responds 
to a highway mudslide with entrapment during a heavy rain and start a rapid 
triage and recovery operation. Johnny pulls a fast one on the hotdog stand
owner and takes advantage of a hyperventilation incident on the man to
win food favors. Johnny swears off pulling any more pranks on Chet just
to see the solemn promise thoroughly freak Kelly out. Station 51 responds
to a fake teenager suicide attempt involving heart pills. Roy and Johnny
get their just desserts when the hotdog stand owner discovers the truth
about the fake life saving assistance the paramedics carried out on him 
earlier in the week.

27.  Heavy Duty

Station 51 begins a high angle rescue of two snotty children stuck up 
a skyscraper and both paramedics get attacked by a pair of peregrines 
defending a nest. Rampart Hospital suffers an underground laboratory
explosion that entraps Dixie McCall under debris. Dixie's current lover,
Dr. Fred Hathaway, a surgeon, pulls out all the stops to try and skip triage 
to go look for her. Roy and Johnny, at the hospital on a supply run, rush to 
begin a rescue.They locate McCall but another explosion brings part of the 
parking lot and a truck down on top of all three of them. A burst water pipe 
complicates matters when the lab basement room begins to flood with rising 
water.. Gage tries desperately to dig them out after Roy blacks out from a 
drugged needle stick and nearly drowns. Dixie performs mouth to mouth 
on DeSoto while Hathaway helps free Roy's pinned ankle. Hathway sacrifices
himself to save the others when it becomes a choice of rope lifting Dixie
first when the pinning truck breaks free starts to tumble down on top of them.
Kel helps Dixie deal with her lover's death and Roy teases her goodnaturedly
in the hospital cafeteria days afterwards to try and cheer her up.

28.  Smoke Screen

Johnny Gage stops to aid an injured woman in an alley after
hearing gunshots and gets arrested by Dragnet's Detectives
Joe Friday and Bill Gannon for murder when the woman dies.
Friday and Gannon get set for the Christmas holiday by exchanging
gifts while casing out a church reporting a stolen statue of Jesus
from a nativity scene. They talk to the padre of the church and learn
that the shot woman was related to Fireman Marco Lopez. They go
to Station 51 to break the bad news. On hearing it, Marco faints and
gets treated. Fire Chief Houts get involved in the Dragnet 
investigation and gets Johnny a fire department lawyer. Houts volunteers
Boot the dog to help the detectives locate further clues in the alleyway.
The detectives befriend Maximillion J. Lorentz in a religious shop, the
bum whose money stuffed mattress so intrigued Station 51 a few
months ago.  The bum tells them about a retarded church boiler room 
worker and two altar boys who may have been around the night Lopez's 
cousin was killed. Dixie and Kel try to help Gage unsuccessfully. Roy 
and Johnny are called to the murder scene to meet up with the detectives 
and Boot. Johnny notices his old, past apartment in a building nearby. 
Lorentz, the bum, steps out of the shadows and says he's the one who
put up Gage's bail and he tells them about the children's fingerprints found
on the gun, professing his real status as a high level, and wealthy P.I. 
They are distracted when the Christmas tree in Johnny's old apartment
catches fire. Marco, with the squad after his hospital discharge, aids them
in rescuing the people trapped up there. The church offers refuge for
those fleeing the fire and a carbon monoxide leak is discovered in the
church basement, the cause of two altar boys' sudden illnesses. Marco
calls for paramedics to care for them when they do not awaken. Marco
discovers the boiler room man in jeopardy in the basement and effects his 
rescue. Lorentz, the boiler man's real life brother, mistakenly tries to do the same 
thing and is overcome by CO fumes. He is rescued, too, by Boot. The altar
boys admit to the detectives about playing with the gun they found in
the boiler man's cookie jar and about accidently shooting the Lopez girl.
Later, that Christmas night, the padre and detectives find the statue thief in
the form of a little boy pulling a red wagon who only wanted to give Jesus
a ride on it to thank him for getting the gift. The dragnet detectives apologize
to Station 51 for frightening Marco by giving them a fully decorated Christmas
tree. Brackett and Dixie give a Christmas gift to the paramedics of their own
when Kel writes and ratifies a new paramedic protocol that prohibits any 
medic from entering a potentially dangerous scene until the police have 
fully secured it for safety, first.

29.  Where The Wind Blows

The gang complains about the windy morning. They receive a call to attend
a radio antennae collapsed onto a residential house. CHiPs officers 
Poncherello and Baker get a tour of the hospital base station before 
they leave to go back to the freeway system. Gage and DeSoto make 
a pact to figure out a way to calm patients down on tense rescue 
scenes using psych techniques and decide to use their coworkers 
as guinea pigs. Chief McConnikee helps himself to Gage's guitar.
Station 51 responds to a man down from an explosion at the docks 
and treat a deafened famous country western singer. Dixie gets to 
hear a new song the singer has yet to publish a capella and is deeply 
touched. Days later, the paramedics receive an invite from the singer to do
some beach horseback riding. They receive word about a downed
hiker nearby who jumped off a cliff to get away from his wind fanned
up campfire. A pilot/orthopedic hiking surgeon arrives and performs a needle
evacuation on his friend's leg to restore circulation to it. The fire worsens
and Roy and Johnny and the doctor are forced to use fire shelters to
escape the firestorm. The MD suffers an asthma attack and is treated.
In a bar, the gang goes to the country singer's concert and is surprised
when Gage is invited up on stage and plays side by side with him, singing
an absolutely beautiful new, unreleased song called Windsong.( Brice
covers him, playing the bongos. :)  )

30.   Eligibility

The gang burns off a little stress by playing softball in the pouring rain.
They tease Hank for not joining in. Marco tells everybody about Cap
studying for the chief's exam and that starts a wager between Chet
and Gage about who'll be winning his captain's spot upon his promotion.
Joe and Dixie at Rampart start making plans for the annual Fireman's Ball. 
Station 51's called out to rescue an autistic boy caught in a heating vent grill.
Brackett responds to a car fire at the ambulance entrance and treats
a father for a heart attack and the daughter for head injuries after he
learns she crashed the car into the wall by accident worrying over her dad.
The gang suffers a tired Hank's bad mood at the lunch table and pranks
die aborning when Cap overhears Chet calling him old. He immediately 
challenges Chet to a CPR contest on the manikins. A ring at the visitor's 
doorbell pulls everyone away to a walk-in-to-the-station cardiac call. 
That night, they discover Hank Stanley has acute sleep apnea symptoms
and pull out all the stops to get him to some help for the problem. 
Gage gets a bad feeling and not long after, Station 51 gets a crib death
baby call involving Karen Overstreet, the female paramedic trainee who 
saved Roy's life once on a fire scene with a defibrillator. The staff at
Rampart spend time with Karen and her husband through a grieving 
process and so does Roy and Johnny. Hank is finally convinced to
get sleep evaluated at Rampart. Days later, the gang learns Cap
got a nose job to fix his apnea and that the captain's spot is unavailable
for Gage's and Kelly's little competition for at least another year. The gang
happily remembers Dixie's stunning evening gown worn the night before at 
the Ball and all of them smile but Cap, who sadly reported that he must 
have missed seeing it for taking a nap.

31.  All That Glitters

The gang makes fun of Johnny when he's caught practicing how to pan for
gold in a bucket out in the station's back yard.  Later, at lunch, Chet kids
Johnny for forgetting his gloves all the time while working with hot things 
when he cuts his own finger on a veggie knife and faints. The gang treats
him and discover that he donated blood excessively before work.
They give him the third degree and a little paramedic hardball for
being stupid. The squad responds to a motorcross injury at a busy track.
They encounter a second incident there involving two children colliding
on bicycles. Gage stays behind to treat them while Roy transports the
first rider. Chet plays right into a vampire themed gag on him. Station 51 
gets called to a house fire and help a sister station's firefighter when
he falls through a roof. Chet's taken out by a water heater ejected piece
of wood and gets treated by another station. Johnny learns the art of
gold dredging on his weekend off and rescues a diver from drowning.
He shares a success story with the gang at work later on, in the form 
of a huge blue sapphire, and a hefty stipend, displayed with pride.

32.  Water Day Saints

Hank polices an annual meeting to find a way to help pay for a new
invention of Stoker and Kelly's. They create a new holiday, an expansion
on their usual fire station tour, called Water Day. Station 51 is called out
to a mass casualty incident involving cars and trucks on the freeway
and as first on the scene, they become head of triage operations. 
Gage heads the initial care on multiple victims and Stoker spots a problem
with a man caught inside a cement mixer who becomes the priority first victim.
Brackett arrives to assist in his difficult extrication. Water Day commences 
at Station 51 with a flood of children. A boy gets stuck in one of the station's 
bathroom toilets and has to be rescued. Rampart fields a busy night of 
patients gamely. During the quiet night at the station, Gage tries 
unsuccessfully to find out what invention Chet and Stoker are working on.
Station 51 responds to an overturned tanker truck full of...maple syrup. :)
The new invention arrives at Rampart for its phase two test via a stokes with
a CPR manikin. It's an automated CPR machine that uses a contracting chest
band and passes with flying colors even on a day old corpse. Gage learns
tremendous truths about the ineffectiveness of modern day CPR from Brackett
in a poignant demo using Stoker and Kelly's trial device. An exhausted
Dixie and Brackett escape the hospital for some takeout and time in a hot tub.
Station 51 responds to a ruptured natural gas line from a construction accident.
They begin evacuations of the neighborhood downwind. They find Dixie
and Brackett in the doctor's house, unconscious from gas asphyxiation and they
treat them. A little girl bystander approaches the firefighters and shares 
some news about their station now being famous in her school because of 
a news broadcast that was filmed at the station about Water Day, making
the whole gang smile.

33.  California Dreamin'

The gang suffers under a night of no calls. They mull over the energy
crisis and the nitpicking starts in earnest between Chet and Johnny. 
Johnny hits on the idea of going to Catalina Island. Station 51 responds
to a man with an altered level of consciousness at the supermarket.
They find a druggie and Stoker soon finds his gun pointed at him in
an isolated moment. After the crisis is over, Stoker blacks out and is
treated for shock. Detective Ron Crockett shows up at the station 
to get more details about the weapon drawn incident and ruffles a few 
feathers. Roy meets his son Chris and his own father Ian on the island, 
who're there to do some cessna flying. Chet pulls a disappearing cliff 
diving act as a joke on Stoker. Chris gets a lesson on Catalina aviation 
from his grandfather, Ian DeSoto. Kelly goes gliding. Marco follows,
tandem strapped to his guide, Kip, in his own glider. A wind gust flips 
Marco and Kip and they crash into a tree. Cap grows alarmed at the lack 
of radio from Marco and Chet mounts an airborne search.  Kelly spots the 
downed glider and radios camp about it, then he goes in for a landing. 
Gage launches in another glider after dark to Avalon to round up some 
emergency help. Chet discovers a snake bite on Marco's leg and
treats him in a fire warmed cave. Stanley flies at dawn in a Baywatch 
helicopter with Roy and Johnny and effect their rescue. They all
meet the island's sole, but colorful, nurse and doctor pair at the hospital.
A storm approaches and the doc offers the gang his house for shelter.
Ian and Chris's plane gets lightning struck and makes an emergency
landing at the airport with Avalon's FD on standby on the runway.
Ian and Marco remain behind when the others go to the beach. They find
and rescue two divers in trouble and take them by Baywatch boat to a 
decompression chamber.  Later, they fully relax at the doc's house. 

34.  No Sooner Said

Roy and Johnny worry about a Chet who was saying nothing untoward
for once to anyone. Gage suffers a memory of regret concerning Kelly
and enters a *flashback* about...
Station 51 responds to a man trapped beneath a caterpillar tractor.
Gage worries about the paramedic refresher coming up and bugs a
mouth zippered Dixie about them. Station 51 responds to an excavation
fire at a coal mining company. Chet Kelly is sent down an empty shaft
by rope to check out an underground fire and he makes a disturbing
discovery, bad air. The gang realizes the trouble and hauls him to
safety, only to find Chet apneic. They resuscitate him and then black
out one by one as a creeping gas overcomes them all. Chet, protected
by an oxygen mask, reawakens and effects a transmission to summon 
hazmat help for everybody. Kelly awakens at Rampart to find himself
and the rest of the gang being carbon monoxide treated and in isolation 
wards... for chicken pox that they found on Marco. The gang gets on
each other's nerves during the days it takes to run the infection's course.
Kelly gets positively conceited about his singled handed rescue of them all
and Gage retorts right back at him with a cutting remark ....*end flashback*
Roy sighs on the current cancelled rescue, telling Johnny that his sharp 
comment then must be what's making Chet ignore everyone now. 
Squad 51 responds to a call to a residence that had a service dog
in attendance. On the way Gage and Roy debate about the new 911 phone
system trials. They find a house fire in progress and that upsets Johnny
even more when he realized the 911 operator failed to gather critical
information about the call being a blaze in progress. They hastily summon
their engine and others and then effect a rescue on their own and save
a dwarfened cripple. The help dog is discovered not to have followed 
them out, so a search is begun by the gang to find him. Dixie is mesmorized
by the gang's report of the research they'd recently done concerning the coal
fire that almost killed them a week earlier. Roy wins the bet on who called
911 for the handicapped man and service dog fire.

35.  Captain's Prerogative

Captain Stanley awakens at Rampart, seriously hurt, and struggles to
reconstruct his memory. He suffers a flashback of hanging hose in
the tower when lightning struck him, two years earlier. Then he worries
about the day's current injury on a scene that he had misjudged badly,
causing all of his men to become caught in an explosion and building 
collapse at the pier. Gage speaks with Joanne DeSoto at Rampart about 
hope in the waiting area. There they learn about Chet and Roy's incoming 
helicopter flight and rush outside to meet Brice and the team bringing them 
in. Johnny learns Roy and Chet are serious but stable and that the others
of his station are still missing under the debris field. Dr. Brackett shares
possibilities of Roy's problems with Joanne and soon, both Roy and Chet are
treated by trauma teams aggressively. Gage rushes back to the scene
against orders. Cap, in another room regrets the command decision he 
made at the accident site. Joanne comforts Johnny in the chapel. Morton 
delivers good news about Chet, Roy and Cap's conditions. Stoker and Lopez 
awaken to find themselves injured and buried under a fallen building. They 
begin a crawling, escaping attempt to free themselves. Dixie and Brackett 
visit Hank post surgical with a well known fire chaplain. Cap has a precognition 
about the chaplain's future and is disturbed. He learns Marco and Stoker are 
alive and is comforted following a prayer. Gage tricks a rookie medic into 
taking his patient and sneaks over to where Brice is digging out his stationmates.
Johnny goes into a hole and treats three others along with his two coworkers.
Stoker does his best to calm a man trapped with him. Slowly, they learn the
true extent of the disaster. Hank Stanley returns off duty to a station vacant
during his usual A-shift, intentionally scheduled as abandoned while he and his 
men heal, and goes to sit in his darkened office while worrying about his up
and coming disciplinarian Skelly hearing. He discovers his men, similarly drawn
back to the stationhouse, serving out coffee in the kitchen. They forgive him
the order that brought them harm and set up Brice as his arbitrator for his hearing.
Craig finds a legal loophole that gives the gang a dismissal advantage. They
actively ply to invoke it. Stoker begins his testimony the next day, with confidence.

36.  Tower Drill

Gage gets frustrated and storms off when the gang try to suggest that he needs
a little help handling relationships with the opposite sex. Station 51 answers
a person treed by an alligator call. Helpful postal workers and Les and Dave
of animal control immobilize the gator while the gang sets up a life net in case 
the panicking woman fell. She does at a bad time and bounces partially out of 
the net, and onto the ground, injuring herself badly. Roy and Johnny treats her 
and uses a KED to protect her spine. They call in the Sierra Rescue rangers to
fly her out. Station 51 returns from the call to a surprise visit from Fire Chief
James O. Page and an old nemesis, ex-paramedic trainee Ed Marlowe. The chief
asks Cap to sponsor Ed as an engineer's trainee in a new consideration. The
gang has trepidations about the revisiting fireman and an order calling them to
train cadets during the next Tower Drill session. Gage addresses his misgivings
loudly in the office and Hank soon worries about his decision to accept the chief's 
request. Roy discusses the final firemen's test with his class and Ed makes
sure to voice his opinion on matters clearly. Marlowe drives a course of cones in 
an engine while Gage runs a smoke exposure without scba drill. Cap is running 
a group of cadets through the drill tower when one of the young recruits panics 
and falls out a window when a sprinkler system fails. Marlowe effects a miraculous 
rescue using a rope and a ladder truck bucket. Chet pulls a joke by leaving a
whoopie cushion under the fire chief's chair. Chet effects a tower recon from
the ground in full scba and an infrared camera team. Hank coaches his recruits
to safety. The chief gets his joking revenge on Chet by using some handy recruits.
Ed Marlowe divulges his bungee leap rope knotting secret to Gage before
parting on good terms with the entire gang for his new career as an engineer at 110's.

37.  Primary Complaint

Gage and Dwyer discuss the bet they have with Roy about Brackett's new 
love interest. Kelly pegs Gage accurately for having a crush on her, too. 
The gang discusses mixed reactions about the new 911 system. Roy and 
Johnny talk about good and bad luck on their way to a call in a nursing home. 
They treat a rapidly onsetting aortic aneurysm. On the way out, Cap runs 
into an old firefighter friend and shares good memories with him. The next 
morning, high spirits incites some impromptu singing by a rainy garage 
bay door. Squad 51 responds to a man trapped at sea. During the rescue, 
premature reef building explosives go off, injuring Roy. Gage frets until 
divers find DeSoto. Roy is found to be deafened during evaluation. Later,  
Brackett's doctor girlfriend examines Roy with an ENT specialist and Dr. Morton,
and decide that Roy's eventual surgical recovery will be good. Johnny almost 
gives away the feelings he has for Kel's steady before he hastily retreats 
from the room. Gage returns to the station to share what he knows about Roy
when Chet's ribbing about his forbidden woman crush irks him into walking away.
Paramedic Gil Dwyer pursues him, learning more.  Cap asks Gage up 
front about whether or not he's going to leave Brackett's close date alone.
Gage asks if he's trusted to be honorable and in answer, the gang feeds him 
to help him get his mind off of her. Station 51 responds to a multiple tanker 
accident involving a front end loader fallen off a viaduct. A trucker is freed 
while a poisonous gas cloud threatens nearby neighborhoods. Chet and 
others work to free a woman from a sports car jammed underneath one of the 
tankers. Officer Vince tries to get the second uninjured trucker to admit what 
his cargo is but no one learns it before an explosion occurs involving nitric 
acid. Station 51 rapidly flees the scene with their victims on the engine's 
hosebed. Battalion soon orders Station 51 to evacuate a school under the 
path of the acid cloud's threat but they arrived too late to save a small girl.
The remaining students and teachers are bustled into a protected gymnasium. 
There, Dwyer and Gage treat two burned children with help from Brackett 
and his girlfriend while Cap, Stoker and Marco carry out hose washing 
decontamination procedures. Afterwards, Roy and Johnny frankly discuss 
with Dixie, how she feels about Kel seeing another woman and both are 
surprised by the answer when a bet made between McCall and DeSoto 
reveals another secret Johnny Gage is hiding in his heart.
 

38.  A.M.A.   

Roy and Johnny find themselves promoting the paramedic program
at a touring circus show. Station 51 responds to Vince Howard's call
for help for rescue from a siege by a tiger. Gage suffers stage fright
and the attentions of a friendly elephant. A mock human torch rescue is
staged ringside that's unexpectedly enhanced by clownery. A circus performer
actively goes against medical advice following a diabetic syncopal episode
after being revived by Station 51. Roy's family shows up to see a performance
along with the rest of the gang. A trapeze artist from their earlier rescue suffers
a traumatic fall and Station 51 tries absolutely everything to save him. Chet
uses humor to cheer up Chris DeSoto following the incident.


39. Burnout  

Roy suffers the chore of reorganizing a new drug box for the squad.
The gang feels the full effects of stupid calls and the lack of sleep.
Boot tries to be the perfect ambassador. From the driveway of the
station, Captain Stanley witnesses an explosion at the Arco refinery
across the street. The gang treats two blast injured truck drivers
escaping the disaster. Dixie and Brackett are horrified to see
the event unfolding on TV. The paramedics climb a distillation tower
after a lost plant manager spotted by a fire department helicopter.
A gas leak explosion traps Johnny, Chet and Roy inside an Arco
saferoom with only a drug box and a few scba air bottles. Smoke
inhalation takes its toll on Chet and their Arco victim. Brackett
devises emergency antidote treatment to cope with their exposure
to poison gasses. The aftermath, days later, is viewed on a news
broadcast telling of the fire's effect on the community. Dixie McCall
is deeply disturbed by the fact that the tower refuge, used by the three 
firefighters during the height of the explosions, was completely destroyed 
shortly after they got out of there. Chet takes that fact hard.


40. Canine Capers   

Roy receives the wrath of a vengeful mother at the station in the form
of a basket full of puppies. Squad 51 answers a shooting only to
find themselves face to face with the barrel of a gun. Patrol Officer
Vince Howard oversees the rescue and follows up on what becomes
a murder investigation. A little girl visits the station as a week long guest 
ride-along through the Make A Wish Foundation with Charlie the mechanic
as her chaperone and Dixie McCall as her attending nurse. Felicia, their
station guest, endears herself to the gang through tiny acts of selflessness
and open curiosity about their jobs. A car crash into an apartment building
exposes a psych patient and helicopters are summoned for trauma. Charlie
shows Felicia the world of fire department power tools. Roy and Johnny
gives her a tour of a paramedic helicopter and answer delicate questions
about mortality. Dixie shares the news of Felicia's death and Charlie tells
of the eclipse that occurred the moment she died. Bonnie and Gage come
away from the experience particularly effected as they learn about love.

                              
41. Attrition  

Johnny and Roy try to get through a lunch hour, sniping at
each other out of boredom for a lack of runs. They encounter
a cold shouldered lifeguard and Bay City detectives while
babe watching at the beach with Henry the station dog. Squad 51 
gets gratefully lost hosting a fire department/ emergency services
demo at a local school but have a problem with drifting embers.
An emergency develops in the form of a little girl bleeding to death
in a playground equipment accident, which turns into a high angle rescue
involving a ladder truck. The child is airlifted out safely but not in time
enough for Gage to grab a favorite dessert at Rampart's cafeteria. 
Dixie McCall works a graceful feminine miracle for the sake of Johnny's 
sweet tooth. Nitpicking causes Squad 51 to crash with another car
that Engine 51 responds to. Dixie McCall is found to be the other driver.
Dr. Brackett performs and emergency procedure to save her life
during extrication. Cap and the crew are hard pressed to keep
everyone safe and breathing. They welcome Craig Brice's aid with open
arms. Brackett does a litte recruiting of his own calling in a pair of doctors 
from another city. All the firemen eagerly await surgical recovery news on 
Dixie and fall prey to the antics of their guest physicians.


42. Pilot Light  

Johnny Gage spends the morning fussing about the lack of patient
history information the Station always seems to suffer on medical calls.
He vows to come up with a solution. Dixie escapes her busy ER desk 
long enough to take a shower after a long CPR, trapping Joe Early 
at multiple phone lines. Squad 51 responds to a call at the police station
only to find an unconscious Officer Vince Howard on the floor, barely breathing.
Dr. Brackett pulls out all the stops diagnosing the patrolman's problem
with the help of Roy and Johnny and Howard luckily survives a life threatening
hypercalcemic crisis. Johnny re-agonizes over his secret invention that will
revolutionize the way paramedics handle medical calls with senior citizens.
Station 51 answers a warehouse fire with Station 110 and Squad 51
gets trapped inside a breakroom with two victims in heavy smoke with
their air running out. Roy treats a hurt paramedic and Gage learns that his
private invention has already been submitted by another. Chet does an amazing
humanitarian act by coming up with a new protocol idea of his own and
creditting Johnny for thinking of it to the chiefs.


43.  The Quint Connection 

Kelly cringes under the attentions of the smoke eater at shift
change when the older captain warns the substituting Stone about
Chet's shinanigans. The gang, Dixie and Brackett get excited about
an upcoming skiing weekend at Lake Tahoe. The gang attends a house
fire and rescue two victims from smoke inhalation. The smoke eater
corners Chet in an impromptu verbal oral engineer's examination.
Dixie vows to camp next to a ski lodge lobby fireplace for the next
two days. The gang and Rampart pair rescue a child from choking
at a restaurant and meet up with the resort's local ski patrol. The
vacationing bunch splits up in the great wild outdoors just in time
to feel the effects of an avalanche. Stoker burns himself on
camp coffee. They help out at a buried alive snow slide site, a cliff 
fall, and a car over the embankment rescue. Johnny wins a date with
a beautiful EMT snow patroller and Marco celebrates a baby's 
survival by making a snow angel.
 

44. Pump Peculiarities 

The gang gets stressed out by a new Los Angeles River
Flashflood Prevention Project and the problematic risks
especially effect Mike Stoker. The staff at Rampart drive
each other crazy on a slow day. Station 51 responds to
a horse stuck in a mudhole. A little boy is rescued from
a city controlled flash flood by a last second brain storming
swiftwater technique Stoker creates. A fire chopper calls
in a teen drag race gone bad in the riverbed. Roy DeSoto
is stunned when an ejected fatality is his son. Mike Stoker
collapses with paroxysmal tachycardia and is treated. 
Deeply moved by Roy's grief, Stoker designs an alcohol
awareness program and puts it on for the high school
whose students were involved in crash killing Chris DeSoto.
As a gift of gratitude, the students send the gang a music video 
showing what they learned and how they felt about the experience.


45. Richter Six©- by Michael Donovan.

Gage and DeSoto are teaching paramedic students about the
reality of real life rescue. Roy relates a tale of when a large
earthquake strikes the whole county in a flashback. The gang
is shaken out of bed at the station to response to a total search
and recovery operation at an area hospital collapsed in a quake.
Dr. Brackett and Mike Morton deliver a premature baby. A man
is discovered in a work room in cardiac arrest and Johnny pulls
out all the stops to find a doctor to authorize his medications.
One blinded in an acid spill volunteers to help. Station 51 and Joe 
Early rescue an unconscious surgeon and a little girl from an operating 
ward. DeSoto frets about the lack of word about his family. Gage 
tunnels into a fire stairwell, only to find two people dead. A spunky 
Salvation Army volunteer cheers up Roy and Johnny while dolling out 
food and coffee. Kel Brackett learns his new mother's husband is the 
blinded M.D. and gets involved trying to help their emotional crisis.
Roy learns the status of his home neighborhood.The last of the 
earthquake victims are found but at a price, Chet Kelly is buried under 
debris in an aftershock. He is found with a fractured shoulder and is sent 
to be treated at Rampart by Dr. Brackett.  DeSoto's story to his class 
concludes when the courageous doctor from the tale walks in to lecture. 

46. The Long Hours 

Station 51 fills in for Station 110's fireboat on the ocean. Gage has a hankering
to visit the beach. A light plane crashes off the Santa Monica Pier and both
the gang and Baywatch lifeguards are called to assist. Dr. Morton is rescued
from near drowning with a back injury and fractured arm. A surgeon's strike
at Rampart threatens Morton's life when he is forced to be shipped to
another hospital. Three generations are rescued from a burning house and 
treated for smoke inhalation. Kel is angered at a complication overlooked on
his colleague and vows to stay at Morton's bedside through the crisis.
Roy and Johnny assists at the intern's code blue seizure. The station responds
to a bomb threat at the pier. A police officer is gravely wounded when it
detonates. Dixie delivers good news about Morton so Chet, Roy and Johnny
go visiting his bedside bearing a surprise homemade gift.

47. I.V. Push 

The gang suffers a sleepless night at the station under the fury of a cold 
winter storm. Chet discovers a teen runaway nearly dead from hypothermia 
in the back yard. CHiPs officers Frank Poncherello and Jon Baker assist
Station 51 in saving a driver driven off a cliff. Johnny Gage suffers qualms
when the face of the girl they saved from the cold becomes familiar in
memory at Rampart. Dixie helps learn the teenager's identity and CHiP
Bonnie Clark accompanies the teen to a retreat for runaways in the mountains.
A second storm brings a tree down onto their cabin, trapping Gage and Joy
Yellowbird inside, injured. Gage confesses a shortcoming to his young friend
while a rescue is affected around them and finds peace after a years long broken
promise.

48.  Hostage©- by Susan Keenan© 

A house fire leads to a career ending health problem being discovered for a 
friend of Johnny and Roy. A game of basketball was interupted by another 
rescue call at a glass shop. Chet goes silent thinking he jinxed the guys. 
A young couple arrived at Rampart thinking they were going to become parents. 
Only to find out it wasn't quite time. Roy and Johnny are called called to 
rescue a child whose hand was stuck in playground equipment. Johnny and Roy 
are taken hostage on the way back from Rampart. They are forced to care for 
a heroin addict while his buddy holds them at gun point. Roy must get 
creative to disclose their location without saying it outright. The boys
are eventually found and upon their return to the station greeted with 
Chet's voice returning, a warm dinner and a round of applause.


 49. The Helper's High-
Resources are stretched thin as LACO helps in a fire storm. Hank suffers
lingering trouble from hitting his head during his days off. The boys 
have an interesting encounter with a drunk at a palm tree. After a 
fairly quiet night, Marco goes to take the trash out and gets shot 
in the hand. Mike has to say a heart breaking good bye to a dear 
friend from his military days. On the way to a call the engine has 
a run in with a loose log from a logging truck. Hank suffers a severe
closed head injury. Mike is temporairly promoted to Captain in Hank's 
absence. Hank is welcomed back with a party full of friends and family.
Mike and Hank share a candid conversation as they raise the flags on 
Hank's first day back.

50. The Other Side 

A day of null action spices up when technology is more 
attractive to a victim than self preservation when the driver 
hits the squad. Life is anything but normal when Station 51 responds 
to a traffic accident only to realize the first responder is dispatcher
Sam Lanier. Sam sticks around once another car joins the fray. At 
Rampart, the fight is on to save Sharon Walter's life in the middle of
an unusually quiet day. Then the hospital faces its own crisis when
a minor earthquake reeks havoc on vital areas. Doctor Morton
takes command when Joe and Kel are caught in the middle of the 
mess. Guess who saves the day?

51. What's A Dedicated Captain Like You Doing...  SEASON FINALE

Captains DeSoto and Gage reunite unexpectedly four years
after their promotion away from Station 51. They begin sharing
flashbacks of their lives during those separated years. Dixie confides
confidence in the new head nurse of the E.R., Sharon Walters. Flashback,
Dixie's appendicitis attack on her day off. Future Roy and Johnny 
decide to run in a manikin resuscitation exercise to Rampart to extend
their visit with each other. Kel Brackett collapses due to high blood 
pressure in Hospital Administrator Dixie McCall's office and is 
treated by a responding Roy, Johnny and paramedic cadets. Feeling
their own mortality, Roy and Johnny visit Station 51 and go calling on
their old captain, Hank Stanley. They wonder about the real reason
Hank burned Chief McConnikee's hat and find out why through Cap's
flashback memory over lunch. Roy shares a time of his own when he
suffers a nervous breakdown over the loss of a child on a mudslide bus
rescue gone bad.  They reminisce about Henry, the station basset 
hound's heart attack rescue. Hank shares the real reason why Captain 
Dick Hammer left the fire department before his own tenure there. 
Kel Brackett awakens in ICU, recovering from his near stroke from 
hypertension, and relives the trials and tribulations he suffered trying 
to relate to his own father. He plans a fishing trip and they make amends 
upon his discharge from Rampart. Back at the station, the three captains
share the outcome of two games faced, but never completed in
the eyes of any of them, a poker game with mafia, and the big USC
football game where they originally missed the outcome of the game.
They flashback to the week when a Make A Wish child, Felicia comes
to shadow their careers before she succumbs to a fatal illness.
Captain Gage gets to ply his revenge against snakes. Remembering
pain, they recall and relive a rescue in which Chet Kelly reveals a
secret life, after death.
 

---------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Special A. The Face In The Mirror 

Johnny and Roy have fun teaching a CPR class. The next day the gang 
finds Roy tired from all the overtime over the breakfast table and Cap
gives Gage some smelling salts to use on him as a joke. The station
responds to a multiple fog bound pileup on the freeway near the ocean.
Gage and Roy begin triaging the first casualties. Two trapped girls
are found in an overturned Winnebago. Marco and Chet begin to
cut them free using a K-12. Cap worms in to help Roy treat the children.
DeSoto begins to worry about his own lack of sleep. A live power line falls
on the camper and electrocutes Chet and Marco. Gage immediately
begins to handle their rescue and treatment. A new kind of defibrillator 
is found with some nearby beach lifeguards and it's quickly used to 
revive Chet. Roy is called out of the camper to sedate Marco's convulsions.
Shocked by a powerline and fatigued, DeSoto accidentally gives Lopez 
too much diazepam, sending Marco into a coma before blacking out.
Chet reawakens en route to the hospital, and learns about the overdose.
Dixie delivers her own brand of therapy to Roy when he begins to despair
about Marco. Morton orders McCall to release Roy to Dr. Brackett's office.
Gage remains closeby while Joe Early treats Lopez aggressively, ignoring
smoke inhalation injuries of his own. The doctor makes him treat himself
with oxygen. Gage flees when a chaplain arrives to deliver last rites and
protests when Vince handcuffs Roy and takes him to jail. Cap cares for
Gage's racing emotions in the nurse's lounge. Johnny resents his
superior's orders when Gil Sheppard steps in to replace Roy in the squad.
Roy's treated by an old jail doc. Joanne soon takes Roy home after Gage posts
his bail. Johnny fights every inch to contain himself when a FEMA investigator
shows up to learn about what contributed to Roy's paramedic mistake.
Countering, Cap asks Brackett to be his paramedic adjudicator. A mild
earth tremor shakes the station and Rampart. Dixie learns of an improvement
in Marco from Dr. Morton. Joanne takes pity on her sleeping husband, restless
from the quake. She leaves an open HT on soft playback near his head on
a nightstand to calm him. Brackett arrives at the station to effect a few
changes and shake up the FEMA investigator. Station 51 responds to
a report of a gas leak and go with Kel and the director to seal it off.
They find evidence of multiple sinkholes near a forested neighborhood.
The investigator almost falls into one and is saved by Gage. Another
cave-in topples a teenager in a tree house and Johnny rushes to his aid,
calling for more help via radio to Gil. Another earthquake knocks Gage out
when a tree branch clobbers him. Brackett and the investigator launch
a search of the field when Cap worries about Gage's lack of response.
Roy wakes up, overhearing a broken outgoing only transmission from
Johnny over the HT, professing that he's injured and with another. DeSoto 
bolts upright and breaks house arrest by using his dog Shania to track 
Johnny's whereabouts down. Under broken trees, Johnny works to keep his 
patient alive. At Rampart, Joe Early and Dixie find Marco recovering
and celebrate. They leave to go call Johnny via dispatch about the good news.
Brackett and DeSoto find Gage down a hole with the teenager with the help
of Shania the dog. The investigator finally relents when the teenager codes
and needs immediate paramedic and doctor help after he hears that Marco 
is awake and talking from Dixie through an HT radio patch.  Later, at the hospital,
everybody celebrates the teenager's saved life and Roy's aquittal. Everybody
bristles when the FEMA investigator makes a reappearance, but the man is bent
on apology. In a box, he gives Roy a check for Station 51's charity and DeSoto's 
returned paramedic's badge and license. Dix and Kel leave the room to let them 
all heal.


Special B. Too Close To Home

Roy and Johnny cut loose during a really good handball game. Gage
teases Roy about making vacation plans again much to DeSoto's chagrin.
Chet Kelly shares a brainstorm about Station 51 collectively buying a race 
horse and running her on the circuit to earn and split all the winnings.
Everybody signs the contract, except Roy. Morton's teased by Kel when
he shows up in a treatment room, paramedic treated for a trip and fall
following a slip on a banana peel. Brackett orchestrates a nurse's revenge
for Morton's earlier horrid bedside manner against her. Station 51 responds
to a riot at the sports stadium arena. They meet Vince, in the thick of
his element, arresting thugs. They treat a thrown cop, and a handcuffed 
gang leader, who starts to choke, with a flail chest. Dixie discusses her
day with Roy and Johnny over coffee and then surprises them on a tour to
go see a current favorite patient of hers, Dr. Morton. Joe Early expresses
a frank opinion about the racehorse deal, deflating Johnny's enthusiasm.
While leaving Rampart, they hear a disturbance in a hospital room and
go investigating a loud noise. They find themselves trapped with a partially
conscious Morton, post surgical, following an ankle fracture repair. They
are spared Mike's usual scathes when sedation proves its worth moments 
later. Squad 51 responds to a man down at a ranch and soon realize that 
it's at Chet's sister's address. Their worries prove well founded when Chet is
located, bleeding badly on a shattered chicken coup following a horse toss.
They're about to treat him when their newly purchased race horse, crazed 
from fresh bee stings, charges them. All the medical gear, including the
biophone, is trampled when Roy and Johnny choose to log roll Chet
safely away from her under the fence. Chet is found in deep shock afterwards.
He's oxygen support ventilated by the engine crew until an I.V., and a hemostat
can be retrieve tricked from under the horse's hooves with a fire extinguisher.
Joe Early and Dixie marvel at Chet's amazing recovery. At the station, shift
change paramedics trade what-I've-wrecked-on-my-shift stories and bow their
helmets to Roy and Gage's racehorse-gone-mad call for the highest damage
total. Roy is teased about vacation planning again over lunch just as the tones
go off for a shed fire.. at DeSoto's own house address. Cap lets Roy question
the crowd and Vince about his kids as the garden shed starts to be hosed
out. A neighbor's child, admitting to a sleepover, confesses that one of Roy's
kids had played with matches, in the house. An errant spark ignites the house
through the water heater. Roy, panicking, learns that his daughter is in the house
from Joanne, his wife who faints soon after arriving home by car. He gets by
all firefighters and into the house without his scba tank. Gage mounts a fast
search for both daughter and his partner with an air bottle but only finds a dead
kitten in the kitchen. He is forced to crawl on his hands and knees while looking 
for Roy due to thickening smoke. Roy's found unconscious from a blow to the head 
and is fireman carried out of the house by Johnny. Returning, he finds Jesse, Roy's 
daughter, in a closet and gets her out by sharing his air mask. A shot of epinephrine 
revives Roy from a nonbreathing state minutes later, and Gage finds his hands full 
with a confused combative partner for several seconds until he fully wakes up. 
The gang laughs when Johnny delivers a funny medical report to Rampart
about the good positive change after he suffers a fit of high spirits.

Movie One, The Fire Within

 Part One

A traumatized little boy travels to a park ranger station in coastline New York
State with his grandmother to escape the memory of his father's death. An
RN and Doctor Park Ranger team gets caught in an avalanche on a routine
trail safety run. The Station 51 gang travels to the Appalachian Center
National Park to participate in an extended season deer hunt before
reporting to an airport fire station on the coast for career cross training. 
Hidden concerns effect the mountain ranger team's friendships throughout. 
The airport fire station crew suffers a practical joke war with the airport's
control tower personnel and decide to get revenge.  ARFF crew bond with 
a morning run along a runway at dawn. A fire chief gets Dr. Brackett's 
permission to use Roy and Johnny's paramedic skills. A Park Ranger captain
paramedic befriends the sad little boy and decides a career shadow day will 
ease his grief. Station 51's deer hunt begins with a rocky start when Chet 
reveals his secret strategy for luring bucks. Chet outclasses Johnny archery
wise on a deer target shooting contest. Gage gets the last comeback when
Kelly chokes when targetting the real thing. The gang cheers up Kelly about
his awkward first hunt over venison steaks. A cougar pays a visit to their deer
camp and is taken out by a park ranger's mule and a female sheriff paramedic's
bullet. Three sheriff paramedics kabbitz good natured banter at the national
park's headquarters. The gang suffers the reality of the onset of sudden winter 
when their campfire needs a sudden snuffing. The sad little boy receives a
tour in the park's rescue helicopter by their ranger pilot. Chet, fetching water for
the coffee pot, discovers a river hypothermia victim, a kayaker in the shallows, and
summons help. The station 51 crew begins treatment of their patient with warming 
and oxygen after radioing for assistance from the park lodge. They find a clue
that their kayaker wasn't alone and begin a search upstream for a second victim.
Bluebird Five, the tour chopper, overflies the gang's kayak rescue. Nurse and 
doctor park rangers worry over the call. 240 Robert sheriff's paramedics and
helicopter pilot respond to the gang's incident.  Chet and Roy marvel at a new 
steaming breathing device and intrabone I.V. which saves their first victim from 
death by cold. The second kayaker is found with a broken back and skull 
and is rescued from the water by Gage and Stanley. Johnny suffers deep body 
chilling. Sierra's paramedic park ranger Ted Cassidy treats Gage. Bluebird 
Five crashes after being caught in a dust devil. 240 Robert and the gang 
extricates the second kayaker with difficulty by chopper. Both river victims 
evacuated, the gang begins a new search and rescue operation for the lost 
boy and pilot from Bluebird Five. Johnny becomes enamoured of Morgan
Wainwright, the 240 Robert unit's pilot. A nurse/park ranger recalls how she 
met the missing boy before she and the boy's grandmother rush off on 
horseback in a search operation. Gage has a run in with a cantankerous 
nurse and his doctor at the ranger lodge's hospital.
The sheriff's female pilot shows romantic interest in Johnny. The boy and tour 
pilot come to on the forest floor below the crashed chopper. The pilot, gravely 
wounded, helps the child cope with parent loss while the boy struggles to care 
for the man's injuries. The searchers come up with a hypothesis of where the
tour helicopter ditched and press harder on searching. Johnny reconciles with 
his lady doctor to amend their rocky start as patient and caregiver. The boy 
desperately tries to breathing revive his pilot friend when a femoral artery bursts 
and severe shock sets in. A smart mule locates the boy's lost navy cap and 
searchers soon find the lost chopper pair and begin emergency care.

Part Two

The park pilot, the crashed Bluebird Five chopper, and the boy 
are all airlifted to sources of repair and help. The child is reassured of his
new pilot friend's eventual recovery by the rangers and park doctor.
At dinner, the Station 51 gang tease Chet's still tender hunting impressions.
The youngest park ranger girl tries a date attempt with her captain. Johnny
wins the sheriff pilot's heart and she gives them all a farewell to remember
as they start to travel to the coastal airport for their next trip stop at the airport's
fire station. The gang is escorted to their training destination by the airport
fire chief. Casual banter over the kitchen table bonds the two fire crews
instantly. The L.A. gang is given orientation and training to airport firefighting
in great detail. Dixie McCall phones them in New York to say howdy. 
An airport chopper paramedic arrives to the runway fire station with bad news
about a distressed business commuter in the air. A passenger on the jet
suffers cardiac arrest and collapses. A military jet is scrambled to assess
the jet pilot's incommunicado emergency situation. Both Station 51's men
and the ARFF crew pair up and respond in trucks with other fire services,
to the runway. All the paramedics team up in ambulances or with first in crews. 
The jet lands on wheels but catches flame from a blown airlock door. The fire 
crews move in to rescue pilot and businessmen passengers. One by one, the 
casualties are moved to an emergency clinic by the airport terminal where the 
park doctor has rejoined them for triage operations. Roy and Johnny treat the 
cardiac arrested man along with their airport firefighter paramedic coworkers. 
All victims are evacuated to the airport clinic hastily being set up for them. In the 
airport tower, an air controller sees an ominous sight of the incoming lights of an 
international Concorde flight that declares a sudden ice bound air emergency. 
The situation goes pear shaped when the aircraft crashes, taking out a radio
antennae and killing all on board. The flat lined heart victim is left abandoned on
the side of the runway in the face of the new emergency. Damaged are the 
air control tower, the main airport terminal and three grounded passenger airliners 
still in docking place. A new massive large scale incident is declared and the airport
fire chief hastily reassigns them all to specific rescue tasks.  An airport fire 
engineer is assigned the radio room at the fire station with another firefighter. 
The 51 gang is split up between search and rescue of the control tower and 
main terminal, after organizing themselves with the triage doctor from the 
Appalchia park center. Captain Stanley is given command of a second rescue 
operation along with Mike Stoker. The fire engineer links up with a bus driver
who has a ham radio for emergency communication. The fire station dalmatian
is released to assist her crewmates outside. Armed with extra gear, air bottles
and hoses, all the firecrews move into the heart of an inferno in a two pronged
attack, one into the main terminal and the second into the blacked out and 
still burning air traffic control tower. Roy and Johnny rescue an air traffic
controller from a burning control tower. Cap finds and resuscitates an airport
worker on a search and rescue mission. A major aviation fuel leak is discovered
in a ruptured pipeline underneath buckled flooring in the main terminal. Roy
and Johnny rescue an air traffic controller from the burning control tower.
People are found trapped inside a burning stairwell and inside a gated airliner.
Only half the victims are extricated when the passenger jet explodes. 
Dr. Brackett goes to New York to help out in triage. A newborn, a lung burned man, 
and an ill child are treated in evac. The disaster green zone is relocated to 
a safer location in a city park near the airport as the fuel fire grows. Airport firefighters
struggle to find a pipeline shut off valve to end the fire. A boy is rescued from
a luggage conveyer belt but suffers cardiac arrest. A lady doctor in triage is
effected when an EMT friend is found injured on the airfield. An airport firefighter
is trapped inside a valve room with activated clean agent fire suppression gas.
A female firefighter is overcome by heat. Station 51 and most of their airport 
fire host crew rushes in to rescue their man stuck in the clean room. 
Doctor Brackett treats and gives a pep talk to the female firefighter.
Johnny and Roy begin a high angle rescue to enter the terminal around the roof
hole created by the fuel fire. The trapped fireman is found buried under debris.
DeSoto and Gage begin to shut off the main fuel valve again that had been started
by their victim. Cap and Stoker are trapped on top of a collapsing parking ramp
garage while rescuing an old man and little girl. They're forced to jump into a
life net when cars begin exploding. Stoker is injured by shrapnel. The trapped
fireman is freed and the fuel fire valve shut off, ending all fire. Post incident,
Dr. Brackett, the national park lady doctor, sheriff's lady pilot and all the arff
and the Station 51 gang suffer emotional effects of the ordeal in conmiseration
at the airport fire staiton over dinner. The lady firefighter and arff recovered from
his clean room exposure muse over their future. The 51 gang is sleeping it off
in a dark bunk room. All except Johnny, who's entertaining the lady pilot, on 
pillows.
 

Movie Two, (Untitled)

...... Still in production..
 
 
=============================================================
=============================================================
 By Character Injury Tally 


Johnny       
1.Full Moon Blues-Buried by an earthquake toppled hose tower 
   and hand stabbed by a rod.
2.Father And Son- Falls down boobytrapped stairs. Concussion.
6.The Golden Horn-Swept away underwater into a quarry, drowning.
8.The Promise-Nearly asphyxiated by freon gas in a collapse.
9.Green Pen Of Johnny's- Buried in explosives factory roof collapse.
   Smoke exposure from an airliner crash, inhalation shock.
12.Crossing The Red Line-Broken leg and benzene fumes apnea.
14.Twisted-Concussion from a crash while in Squad 51.
19.Sacred Ground-Slips on a mechanic's slide board at the station, knocked out.
22.In Certain Terms-Landslide buried.
24.S.N.A.F.U.-Lightning ozone exposure.
27.Heavy Duty-Trapped by a fallen truck.
34.No Sooner Said-Mine gas black out.
Special A-The Face In The Mirror-Struck by tree limb, broken arm.
41.Attrition-Victim of a garbage fire and car accident.
47.I.V.Push-Concussion and broken leg in a storm/tree collapse.


Roy
3.Juxtaposition-Leg trapped in mud inside a school bus.
8.The Promise-Water tower collapse drowning, and gas exposure. 
10.From Loaves To Fishes-Fall off a mountain cliff, chlorine gas.
12.Crossing The Red Line-Concussed in an ambulance explosion.
14.Twisted-Beaten up by a neighborhood gang.
22.In Certain Terms-Landslide buried.
24.S.N.A.F.U.-Lightning strike.
27.Heavy Duty-Trapped by a fallen truck, stuck and injected with 
      a drug syringe, near drowning.
34.No Sooner Said-Mine gas black out.
35.Captain's Prerogative-Building collapse trauma. 
37.Primary Complaint- Deafened in an explosion at sea.
Special A-The Face In The Mirror-Sleep deprivation and electrical shock.
Special B. Too Close To Home-Smoke inhalation.
41.Attrition-Receives minor injuries in an MVA.
52.The Fire Within, Movie One- Minor burn at an airport fire.


Marco
1.Full Moon Blues-Retrovirus infection and gassed in earthquake
3.Juxtaposition-Buried in mud inside a school bus.
17.That Latin Flair-Electrocuted into unstable tachycardia.
22.In Certain Terms-Landslide buried.
24.S.N.A.F.U.-Lightning ozone exposure.
28.Smoke Screen-Faints due to psychogenic reasons.
33.California Dreamin'-Hang glider crash/snakebite.
34.No Sooner Said-Mine gas black out.
35.Captain's Prerogative-Building collapse trauma.
Special A-The Face In The Mirror- Electrical shock and drug overdose.
49. The Helper's High-Shot in the hand.


Cap
1.Full Moon Blues-Knocked out by falling ceiling debris
2.The Golden Horn-Falls into a mine, hemorrhages.
20.Recertification-Gunshot to the chest.
22.In Certain Terms-Landslide buried.
25.The Overhaul Principle-Stress and chest pain.
34.No Sooner Said-Mine gas black out.
35.Captain's Prerogative-Building collapse trauma.
36.Tower Drill-Minor injuries from ceiling collapse.
49.The Helper's High-Severe closed head injury.


Chet
2.Father And Son- Anhydrous ammonia inhalation and ruptured spleen
   during an escape using the squad.
4.Within Sight-Breaks knuckles on a punching bag.
7.Crazy Days-Falls into the LaBrea tarpits and nearly suffocates.
11.Shadows of the Past-Faints under a river.
17.That Latin Flair-Burns hands in a soup kitchen grease fire.
22.In Certain Terms-Fire ant stings.
24.S.N.A.F.U.-Lightning strike.
31.All That Glitters-Vagal faint from hypovolemia.
      Nailed on the back of the neck by a flying board.
34.No Sooner Said-Mine gas black out and apnea.
35.Captain's Prerogative-Building collapse trauma.
Special A-The Face In The Mirror-Electrical shock cardiac arrest.
Special B. Too Close To Home-Leg hemorrhage from a horse toss.
39.Burnout-Smoke inhalation breathing difficulty during an oil refinery fire.
45.RichterSix-Fractures a shoulder in an earthquake.
51.What's A Dedicated Captain Like You Doing..-Dies in a post fire collapse.

Stoker
4.Within Sight-Gets blinded and lung burned by steam.
11.Shadows of the Past-Trapped in an outhouse fire.
22.In Certain Terms-Landslide buried.
34.No Sooner Said-Mine gas black out.
35.Captain's Prerogative-Building collapse trauma.
43.The Quint Connection-Scalded on hot coffee from a camp fire's pot.
44.Pump Peculiarities-Collapses from emotional stress with tachycardia.
52.The Fire Within-Movie One-Shrapnel stabbed during car explosion, airport fire.

 
Dixie
9.Green Pen Of Johnny's-Nailed by flying glass at Rampart.
15.00:51-Faints into a swimming pool.
      Collapses from appendicitis at home.
27.Heavy Duty-Concussion from an explosion.
32.Water Day Saints-Suffocated in a gas leak.
41.Attrition-Critically injured in an automobile crash.


Early
25.The Overhaul Principle-Head struck, blunt whipped.
50.The Other Side-Gassed by nitrous oxide during an earthquake.


Brackett
2.Father And Son- Punches window in anger. Cut arm and hand.
5.Integrity Game-Smoke inhalation during a ferry fire.
23.S.N.A.F.U.-Car crash, tree branch impalement.
32.Water Day Saints-Suffocated in a gas leak.
50.The Other Side-Gassed by nitrous oxide during an earthquake.
51.What's A Dedicated Captain Like You Doing..-Suffers a hypertensive crisis.

Morton
Special B. Too Close To Home-Slipped on a banana peel, broken ankle.
46.The Long Hours-Salt water drowning in a plane crash.

Nurse Carol Evans
25.The Overhaul Principle-Body slammed into a door.

Nurse Sharon Walters
50.The Other Side-Rheumatic fever attack.


Patrol Officer Vince Howard
42.Pilot Light-Collapses in metabolic electrolyte crisis.

Charlie the mechanic
7.Crazy Days-Learns he has heart disease at Rampart.


Sam Lanier, L.A. dispatcher
19.Sacred Ground-Suffers a fatal cerebral hemorrhage at work.


Chief McConnikee-
6.The Golden Horn- Killed by roof collapse onto his battalion
    chief's car during a fire.

 

Paramedic Craig Brice
13.The White Engine-Burns hand on hot doorknob.
14.Twisted-Smoke inhalation, hospital recovery.


Joanne DeSoto
8.The Promise-Stabbed by a mugger while pregnant.


Chris DeSoto
3.Juxtaposition-Hurts knee in school bus mudslide.
18.Fish Out Of Water-Smoke inhalation, ocean pier fuel fire.
44.Pump Peculiarities-Dies in an alcohol related drag race.


Henry the dog
13.The White Engine-Smoke inhalation and cardiac defect.


Bonnie the dog
23.The One That Matters- Delivers a litter of puppies.

 


===========================

 The Story Unfolds...

Season One, Episode One- Full Moon Blues..

 
********************************
From:  Jeff Seltun <finiterider@yahoo.com> 
Date:  Wed Oct 16, 2002  3:04 am
Subject:  The Dead of Night...
  
 
It was 5 : 30 am, the slight scent of smoke lingered
still in the station house from the engine and squad
only a half hour returned from a fatal fire, and the
drone of avenue traffic outside was ceaseless. A
single light was flicked on at the writing desk in the
bunk room.

"Gage! Do you mind!" Hank hollered.

Johnnie looked up, mortified, in rumpled t-shirt
and run pants, one suspender fallen down over his arm.
"*Cough* Sorry, Cap. Uh, just a sec, I gotta...uh.
Gotta make a phone call.."

"Well hurry it up.." Chet mumbled even more grumpy
then Cap was.

"Shh!!!" hissed someone who sounded suspiciously like
Marco and Mike in tandem.

"Arff!!" Bonnie yapped in reply.

Roy jumped in his bed from his sound sleep at the
noise and nap jerked awake, "HUhhhHH?!
Ohmygod..*sniff*
ohhhh, it's the d*mned dog. Johnnie would you let her
out? I'm too sleepy to...too sleepyyy toooo aaaa"

"Yeah, ok. I will, buddy. Right after making a phone
call."

"Will you starting dialing already?!" Marco snapped,
flipping over on his pillow and squinting in the
light.
He immediately buried his head under his pillow in a
vain attempt to block out the idle unwelcome chitchat
filling his bedspace. His voice sounded five octaves
lower than normal and cracky.

"ok, yeah. Just hang on.. I gotta, gotta look up the
number here." Johnnie said. "Marco.. You shoulda let
me and Roy take a look at ya after that four alarm.
You're really losing your voice, man. A little O2 could
fix--"

"Gage!!" Cap called out from behind another rusty
brick partition.

"uh, what Cap? I was just helping out." Gage's smile
twitched as he balanced the phone onto his ear while
he dialed his number in the dim light he was trying to
shield in vain.. "I am a paramedic after all. I mean
it's my duty to be part of a team. To look out after
the guys, 24/7 . Heh." he chuckled.

"Well, it's definitely 12/5 for me Gage. Shhh!" Chet
groused. 

"That goes for me, too.." Mike added.

"Arff!!"

Johnny jilted in his chair when he heard the sound of
pissing fill the air. "No! Bonnie no!!" and he
dropped the phone on the desk in a dive to reach the
Boston Yorky squatting in the middle of the linoleum
floor. "Bad girl.. Baddd.." he hissed in a whisper.

Chet piped up sleepily, "What? That aimed at your 
date for refusing you yet again?"

Then the scent of a second Bonnie misdeed reached them
all.

"Ahhggh."
"Fah!!"
"Gage! Clean it up NOW!"
"Johnny,.. you should have hurried.."

John was on his hands and knees scrambling for a foot
locker under the desktop which held a roll of
papertowels. He flipped open the door and hastily
snatched for it, all the while stammering apologies
and short failed jokes under the guys angry barrage.

"Ow.! Ok. All right already.. " he said when a
ballistic pillow from Marco nailed him across the
butt.
"I'm hurrying I'm hurrying. Just let me flush this..."
and he hastened to the john with his steaming burden
of towels. 

Bonnie cheerfully followed him the whole way.

A brief peace reigned over the bunks except for the
desklight and snores punctuated the air.

Then Johnny came back into the room, sat down in the
wooden wheeling desk chair and picked up the black
phone receiver again.

"Oh, no you don't.." Chet warned, loudly. "We've
already lost the first five minutes of a long 
four days with no sleep."

"Get to BED!!" Cap roared.

"Groovy, Cap. Just what I was saying.."

Gage knew he'd pushed as far as he could get away
with and reluctantly set the phone down again, his
whole purpose of non sleeping going unfulfilled.

"Gage.. If you aren't under those covers in five
seconds, I'm assigning you a month's tower detail!!
Five! Four! Three!!"

Gage shot out of the chair, slid on the floor in
his boots in a dash for his cubicle.

"Gage! The light!" Marco rasped.

"Two!!"

Johnny belly slid across the floor to the light's plug
and yanked it.

The room was plunged into total darkness.

Bonnie began to howl at the rising tension from
her human family.

"Oh for Pete's sake, Johnny. Give her a snack.."
Mike exclaimed.

"One!" Cap roared.

"Gotonebymybed!" Johnny squeaked as he dove, blind,
into the air and landed on his mattress, the bed
springs squealed from his impact about two seconds
before--

"Zero!" Cap yelled. "Now not another peep outta you
for the next hour and a half until dawn."

"Sorry C-"

"Ahahah..! NOT a single word." Cap seethed.

"Ok." came Johnny's soft meek answer.

"Gage!"

"Allright all right. Sorry. Geez,, I mean all I was
trying to do was--"

"Hey Cap, should I zap him quiet with the
defibrillator?" Roy suggested sleepily..

The gang erupted in giggles.

Johnny just snorted as he hushed and petted Bonnie
quiet as she pranced on his bed while he stretched out
under the sheets, begging him for the treat he held in
his hand. Gage felt wet doggy tongue slime his finger
and the bite of tiny teeth as she grabbed it from him.
"Ow,, hey.hey hey.." he whispered to the darkness.

Then a thought occurred to him. "Hey guys? Do you
think I just reinforced her little accident by giving
her a cookie like this?"

"Shut up!!" came five instant replies.

Then the klaxon alarm went off and the house lights
kicked on automatically.

Dispatch issued the call and the gang were on their
feet instantly.

The call was....
---------------------------

Photo-   The station speaker grill

Photo- A spectacular night time fire at a warehouse
           with hoses spraying high.


***********************************
From:  "Roxy Dee" <laterrapincabesa@hotmail.com> 
Date:  Wed Oct 16, 2002  4:14 am
Subject:  Rotten Luck


>"Shut up!!" came five instant replies.

>Then the klaxon alarm went off and the house 
>lights kicked on automatically.
>Dispatch issued the call and the gang were on 
>their feet instantly.

>The call was....

 "Station 51.. Dumpster Fire. 427 Supolveda Ave. 
Cross/Street Maple. 427 Supolveda Ave. 
Cross/street Maple. Time out 0540." came LA's run.

Chet struggled into his suspenders with a long 
suffering moan. "Oh, man. Gage. You're gonna 
pay big time for this.. I could of gotten to REM 
sleep."

"Yeah..?" John said sarcastically. "Well, you 
should be thanking me. If you hit REM you'd 
be too groggy to man a hose for our fourth 
dumpster fire." he said, rushing after the 
curly haired irishman.  

Roy and John hit the squad and Cap got the 
garage door and thumbed the
callback mike, "Station 51, KMG 365."

"Hey, Cap!" Gage shouted over the loud 
rumble of the garage opening onto
the street and the sounds of Stoker starting 
up the LaFrance and all the gang
slamming their doors as they piled onto 
the Ward engine.

Cap looked over grumpily, flipping up his 
overcoat collar and tightening
his helmet's chin strap. "What? Can't it 
wait, we're going on a run here..!"

"At least this one won't take long! That's 
only ten minutes away.." Gage said as Roy 
threw the truck into drive and peeled out of the 
garage top speed. The lurching almost 
gave Johnny whiplash.

Gage rolled up his passenger window and 
turned on DeSoto.  "Hey, Roy, what are 
you trying to do? Kill me? I was
talking to Cap there.."

"You mean my defibrillator comment didn't 
sink in? I wasn't joking." Roy said, flipping 
on the sirens and lights. The dark streets filled
with the sirens of Station 51 soon after and 
the boulevard ahead of them emptied of 
traffic. His face was almost pure iron.

Gage set a hand on his chin. "I don't believe 
you, man. You're really angry, aren't you? 
I didn't make Bonnie crap all over the station
intentionally. I was only trying to-"

"I know what you were trying to do, Johnnie.." 
Roy said, taking his eyes off their speeding 
route only in brief intervals to stab glares at 
his dark eyed partner. "It's just that sometimes 
you just don't think."  He gripped the wheel 
tighter as Johnnie pointed out the next turn. 
"I don't suppose you get the fact that we've 
been on runs for four shifts straight. And 
on none of those nights have we gotten 
a stretch of sleep longer than an hour. 
I don't suppose that the term 'sleep deprived' 
has any meaning for you.."

Gage readjusted his helmet on tighter 
when Roy thunked over railroad tracks a 
little too fast and it jostled off his head. He 
fought with it for long seconds until he finally 
tossed it onto the seat in frustration, going 
bare headed despite the Code R.

Roy just glared at him, not saying much.


They arrived, engine and squad onto a seedy 
city block that was quiet, full of sleeping 
apartment buildings with black wrought iron
fire escapes and one burning dumpster down 
a dead end alley.

Cap dragged himself out of the cab and 
viewed the sight of such an annoying 
type of fire with a groan. "Man.. Another 
one..How many does that make it Lopez? 
Four tonight?"

"Yeah.." Marco croaked in his throat. 
"One an hour since that four
alarm.." he rasped in irritation.

Cap sighed "Ok, you and Stoker grab out 
an inch and a half, we'll have this washed 
in ten minutes. We gotta make sure that alley
of junk hasn't sparked anything beyond 
that dumpster.."

"Right.." Lopez nodded.  On his way past 
Johnny, he couldn't resist a longer than 
average accusing stare.. 

Johnny felt ganged up on. "What did I do? All 
I did was get up to call Lydia. And Marco, I 
still want to take a look at your throat when 
we're done here!.." he shouted after the 
rushing Marco.

Chet smiled. "Gage. You're not popular with 
him this week. Remember he remembers 
that he lost that bet with B Shift about
how many times Bonnie messed on your 
bed."

"Very funny.." John said. "Go make yourself 
useful and pick those crates up over there 
and move them out of the way for us.."

Roy and Johnny saw Cap stand in the cab 
and report to LA that the incident was 
minor and that the station would be wrapping 
up in about twenty minutes.

Mike and Marco approached the blazing 
dumpster and tried to hook its lid shut with 
a fire crook to smother it, but the lid
had been tied back against the chain link 
fence. "Oh, man. Had to be hard.." Mike 
growled.

Marco said to Stoker. "Gage put you in a 
bad mood, too?" he said hoarsely.

"What?" Stoker said over the roar of the 
fanning inch and a half raising noisy steam 
from the belching dumpster as water 
began to suppress its flames.

Cap took a sniff and asked. "Stoker.. You 
smelling turpentine?"



A huge explosion ripped through the 
dumpster and it flipped end for end into 
the air straight up into the night sky and 
then down again..

"Look out!!" Cap shouted. Marco and 
Mike abandoned the hose and its high 
pressure water stream started bucking 
in the old newspapers and trash in the alley 
the moment they let go of its nozzle to run.

The dumpster narrowly missed pinning 
their feet from where they threw 
themselves down onto the ground and 
its red hot edge landed on the hose, 
severing it.

A hose burst drenched the entire gang in 
spitting ice cold water. Cap shouted from 
where he was standing and he barely 
managed to slam the engine cab door 
shut before the water got inside.
"I don't believe this.. can we have any 
worse luck?"

Stoker got to the pumper and turned off 
the water so that a new hose could be drawn 
and filled.

A moan filled the silence.. from the ground 
where the dumpster had been.  

"Wait a minute. Wait a minute! There's 
somebody over there..!" Roy shouted. John 
ran to the squad and flicked on the squad headlights
to shine into the piles of junk in the alleyway.

As one the whole gang sifted through the 
garbage until....

----------------------------------

Photo- Roy and John in turnout in fog.

Photo- At night, firefighters battle a stack
           of burning pallets.

******************************
 
From:  "Clairissa Fox" <Canaryyello@hotmail.com> 
Date:  Wed Oct 16, 2002  12:38 pm
Subject: Big Troubles..

>A moan filled the silence.. from the ground where the dumpster had
>been.  

>"Wait a minute. Wait a minute! There's somebody 
>over there..!" Roy shouted. John ran to the 
>squad and flicked on the squad headlights
>to shine into the piles of junk in the alleyway.

>As one the whole gang sifted through the 
>garbage until....

"Hey I see a foot!" Marco said, thick with 
laryngitis.

"Where?" Mike said, shining his torch where 
Marco had pointed.

He saw Lopez digging in a pile of cardboard, 
and they all converged on the spot, flinging 
away water soggy debris when, another moan
filled the air, this time, from another direction.

Cap was sharp. "Hey gang, fan out."  

Meanwhile, Marco had located
his foot, it was an old boot, rank with stale beer.
"Oops, not here.." he said.

The fog from the harbor began to spill into the 
alleyway, mingling with the smoke from the 
extinguished dumpster. Roy began to call
out. "Hey mister! Can you hear me?  L.A. 
County Fire Department. Keep talkin! We're 
trying to find you...."  

Another cry, this time legible.. "Over here.. 
Help me.. I--."

Cap gestured to the left this time. "Hang on, 
I got my men searching for you right now. 
Keep making noise!" then he confided to Roy, 
"That's danged odd. How can someone that
injured be in three places at the same time?"

"Don't know, Cap.."

Chet thrashed around with an old board, 
moving aside boxes, and bottles and half 
spilled steel trash cans, right down
to the pavement when--

"Ahhhh...Stop!"

Kelly froze. "Guys, over here. He just reacted 
to what I was doing! But I can't see anything 
in this fog!"

Johnny, Roy, Mike, Marco, Cap, and Chet all ran to
that area of the alley which seemed thick with rot,
and refuge under their gloves. The stench was only made
worse from the water the broken hose had sprayed all
over. The headlights of the squad were uselessly muffled
in the mist and Gage moved instinctively near Roy to
have a reference point.  

All their flashlights hit the back wall and the damp brick
work there under another fire escape. 

Gage erupted. "I can't believe we didn't find him!"
and he whirled around. 

Cap said, "All right, everybody. Back the way we
came."

Just then, came the sound of a very familiar starter,
and a motor of a truck roared to life. The ghostly
headlights of the squad wavered. Gage noticed it
right away.

"Hey!  Hey!!" Gage yelled, running and leaping over
crates and boxes. "Cap!! Someone's making off with
the squad!!"

"What?!" came Hank's voice.

"The squad.. It's just been stolen!!"

All heads raised just in time to see the two beams of 
lights from the squad flip around in a high tailed spin
as it made its get away. 

Cap raised his HT. "L.A. Respond a police
unit to our location. A carjacker has just made off with
our rescue truck.."

##Ten Four, 51. Advising L.A.P.D to your incident.##

"I don't believe this..!"  Johnny exclaimed. "Who would
do something like that? We're on a victim search here..."

Marco suddenly gathered to the others with an old
speaker rigged to a battery operated recorder in his hand. 
"How about a bunch of pranksters?" And his glove
hit the play button.  Trailing moans, just like the
ones they had heard following the dumpster's 
explosion and the same cry Chet had heard, issued
out of it.

"Oh, man.. we've been set up by drug addicts. 
Thought the address seemed familiar.." Gage groaned.
"Isn't this the same neighborhood where the San Pedro
gang hangs out?"

Roy stood leaning against an old hat rack.
"Yep.. They must be after the pharmaceutical box."
he said with a sigh.

"That tears it.." Cap said. "When the police get
here, let THEM search for more of these planted
recorders. I'm not wasting another minute on
this.." he roared.  "Why me? Why US!!" he said,
marching away back towards the engine. His
voice came floating back towards the gang. "John,
next time you have the brilliant idea of using the
headlamps. Close your door next time huh, pal?"

Gage's face fell as he wiped off a trail of water
running down his plastered hair left over from
the wild hose. "Right.." 

Chet said, "I wonder if they'll trash the squad.."

"Oh, Chet..." John said sarcastically moving over 
to Stoker to help them put the hoses, the good 
and the bad one, away.

A minute later, Vince and Martins pulled up, reds
flashing. The burly officers ran out with their guns
drawn into the air until they spied the bedraggled,
soaked firefighters all lined up along the running 
board of the pumper. 

One glance of the recorder and wires Cap 
tossed him and the way Gage was rubbing 
his face in frustration and weariness told him 
the immediate urgency was over.

Vince waved his junior man to holster his weapon
and did the same. "Everyone all right?" he asked
setting his hands onto his hips. 

"We're fine. Anyone birdeye the squad yet?" Hank
asked.

Vince shook his head. "Looks like he or she made
a clean getaway. And it'll take a while to locate it
too. The seafog's rolled in for the night.."

"Maybe we'll get lucky and they'll try to go for
a joyride.." Chet said, wringing out his drenched
overcoat around the rear hand bars of the pumper.

"Not likely.." Gage commented.
"Listen, ah, Vince. Can you give us a ride to
the station house? It's cold out here..

"Yeah.."

"Go on, fellas. " Hank said. "We'll meet you back
there. No doubt Vince has a stack of paperwork
for us to fill out for the police report.."

Roy and Johnny both grabbed blankets out of
the engine's stokes cab to use as towels
and a way to keep the squad car's seats dry 
for the trip back.

"Looks like a full moon.." Vince said as Roy,
Johnny piled in the back of his car.

They waited for the engine to back away from
the dirty alleyway. It headed off, silent reds turning
off, leaving behind two more police cars which 
had arrived to begin setting up the crime scene.

Gage heard over his walkie talkie. "L.A. This is engine
51. Mark Squad 51 out of service until further notice."

##10-4, 51..##

Johnny's head banged into the window frame as
Vince drove them home, and he said closing his eyes. 
"Oh, man. If I had known this was going to happen, 
I'd have never made that phone call earlier, Roy.."

"You had no way of knowing.. Just a bad run.
That's all."

"Chalk up another bad one in about four days of
bad. I'm beat.."

"We all are.." Roy said scratching his nose. "Just
that time of year, I guess."

Vince spoke up from where he was driving.
"I know what you mean. The PD's been getting
odd calls and pranks all week. Must be a conspiracy
going on out there or something. But rest assured.
The San Pedro gang's got h#ll to pay for this latest
stunt of theirs. Grand theft auto is ten to twenty.
No bail in this county for any with prior felonies."

"It is? Good.." Gage said closing his eyes again, his
arms crossed together for warmth. 

Roy had already taken off his sodden trenchcoat
and had laid it on the floor behind the wire partition
separating him and Vince. Then he too, nestled 
back and uncontrollably nodded off.

Vince drove a little more gently the rest of
the way to the firehouse and Martins turned
down their radio's volume a few notches.

--------------------------------------------------

Rampart General, was a madhouse.

Dixie McCall was in high gear, one trail of hair
falling over her face as she delegated a sudden
flood of incoming through her ward.

"What now?" she said of Station Eight's paramedic
team with their burden.. 

"We've got a drug overdose.. Don't know where
he managed to get it, but this guy's got all
the ear marks of meperedine toxicity. Brackett's
already ordered us to start Narcan. And we couldn't
get in an NG tube. He's been convulsing too much."
Gil replied.

"Oh, great. Treatment two.. Uh, Dr. Morton will be
there in a sec right after he deals with another 
street gang type in with the same problem.."

Dixie was about to unwind for a few precious seconds
mentally when Station 10 rolled in. They were working
a full arrest.  "What do you got?"

"Police were chasing this guy for stealing an L.A. county
rescue squad. He didn't watch where he was running
by the harbor, hit his head, and fell into the water.
Took us over three minutes to fish him out."

"A squad? That explains everything. And from the way
he's tattooed, I'll just bet he's related to the other
five we've just received in house. Has the whole
world gone crazy tonight?"

"Must be.."

"Treatment Two.. Interrupt Brackett's arm laceration.
He's just making a row of stitches neat on another 
biker type. He can handle your man." Dixie
said. She watched her orders being carried out and
then got onto the red phone to staffing. "Yeah,
This is McCall in Emergency. Could you send down
a doctor to finish handling a minor laceration in
Two? We've a code in. Thanks.." and she hung
up the phone.

Dixie looked up and began to wonder when the 
night would ever end. "I hate full moons."

Dr. Early had saundered up to get from Dixie
the next patient in from the barrio neighborhood.
"Why? I think a full moon is romantic and very
beautiful. " he said in his calm soothing way.

"Not when it's turning a street gang into
a pack of wild maniacs, it's not. A bunch of
them just made off with a rescue squad and they
had a heyday with the paramedic's drug box."
she groused.

"I know. I just pronounced one of them.." 
Early said, rubbing his hand.

Both nurse and doctor fell into a somber mood.

------------------------------------------------

Roy and Johnny and the rest of the gang were
all nursing steaming cups of old coffee around
the kitchen table. Only Martins seemed to
have enough energy to play tug of war with Bonnie.

"And that should do it boys.." Vince said.
"Your accounts here and the fact you finally
located a tape recorder should put the last
nail in the coffin on this gang's activity.

Gage winced. "Let's just hope its not for
a real one, Vince. I don't want to find out that 
anyone died here.. Thanks, buddies.." he said,
giving the two officers a small grin as they
left the station.

Cap leaned back, already showered
and in a clean uniform, from his chaise lounge.
Bonnie came running over to tug at his shoes
in play, but for once, Hank didn't shove her
away. "I don't want to even know what Charlie
found with the squad when the police called him
out to tow it."

"Was it spray painted?" Chet asked.

"Don't know. Didn't you hear what I just said,
Kelly? I don't WANT to know. It's bad enough
riding shotgun with another station's squad like
we're going to have to do for the rest 
of the day..."

"Sorry, Cap.." Chet said.

Marco suddenly set down the phone. "Hey 
everyone! My mama heard on the news
about the squad being jacked and she and Mrs.
Bandido have made us some breakfast burritos
in sympathy. They're on their way now to drop
them off."

"Hey hey.." everyone smiled and the kitchen
burst into a more happier mood as the sound of
a rich meal that was imminent cheered them. 

Bonnie barked, abandoning Hank's shoestrings
and ran around the table until she had
her dish in mouth. She sat up, begging.

The whole gang laughed.

It was fifteen minutes later. The burritos had arrived,
were utterly inhaled and the gang was now
splayed out on chairs and couchs completely at 
ease with the world.

Then they heard the outer garage doors open
and saw Charlie backing the rescue truck into
its usual place with his tow truck.

Johnny gasped as he saw a peek of it through 
the kitchen door.

The gang left newpapers and chairs to gather
round in the pullup garage in a cluster.

Roy opened up his mouth in shock 
and said......... 

---------------------------------

Photo:  Dixie on a red phone.

Photo : Cap crashed on a black chair.

*****************************
From:  "ecrewgroupie" <irosanne@tds.net> 
Date:  Wed Oct 16, 2002  2:10 pm
Subject:  "Whew!"

 
>Roy opened up his mouth in shock
>and said.........

"I can't believe it! Not a ding! Not a dent! Not a mark anywhere!"

"Whew!" his equally relieved partner exclaimed, as they finished 
circling their seemingly unscathed vehicle, "We really lucked out! 
Man! We gotta be more careful from now on, though. We may not be so 
lucky next time."

"Repeat after me, gentlemen..." Charley coaxed, as he came stomping 
stiffly up to the reckless pair. "There isn't going to BE a 'next 
time'!"

Squad 51's paramedics cringed and stood there looking like a couple 
of school boys being taken to task.

"I can't hear you..." Charley reminded the men, with a menacing glare.

"There isn't going to BE a 'next time'," the pair parroted and 
continued to avoid any contact with the angry mechanic's narrowed 
eyes.

Seemingly satisfied, the rescue truck's rescuer tossed their Captain 
the keys and began taking his leave. "Oh" he casually called back 
over his shoulder, "Before the two of you head off anywhere, you 
might wanna check out the side compartments..."

--------------------------------------------

No attachments.

****************************************
From:  "Cory Anda" <andacory@hotmail.com> 
Date:  Wed Oct 16, 2002  4:11 pm
Subject:  Helping Out



>Seemingly satisfied, the rescue truck's rescuer tossed their Captain 
>the keys and began taking his leave. "Oh" he casually called back 
>over his shoulder, "Before the two of you head off anywhere, you 
>might wanna check out the side compartments..."


Johnny and the others watched Charley depart
with a little more fear for his seemingly
prophetic comment upon leaving, then
they usually had, of him.

Cap rubbed his nose, saundered over to a random
door of the squad's flanks. And pulled.

California kelp oozed out of the rappelling equipment
compartment and onto his shoes into a noodled
pile.

Bonnie started barking at it suspiciously.

Cap pursed his lips and said.
"Chet, you start on clearing out this litter
in here while Roy and John inventory what
equipment we still got left.." Hank ordered.
 
"Aww, Cap.." Kelly protested.

"Aww, nothing.  Tell me you know every
single item in the paramedic inventory and
I'll let you trade places with Gage and DeSoto.
Do you?  I'm not hearing anything......"

"uh,,  not really, Cap.." Chet mumbled.

"I rest my case. Now gentlemen. I suggest
we get to work. I don't know about you but
I'd rather burn some elbow grease getting
our squad compartments here back in order 
than have station 8's here with Brice and company 
aboard like they're scheduled to be doing
starting at 1300 if we can't be absolutely call
ready by then. Catch my drift..?"

"Boy do we ever.." John said. "Brice might
be coming here?"

"Yep. So get cracking.." Cap said, clapping
his hands together and then he disappeared
into his office to change shoes.
"I want to squash that possibility before 
it ever happens. Kapesh..?" his voice
floated out to them.

"Hey, Cap, uh, I thought we were a team.
You know, the all together in this kind of thing.."
Gage hollered after him.. "You know. Working
through the good and the baddd.." he hinted..

Cap closed his door soundly.

Roy peeled off a towel Chet threw into his face
into one hand and he regarded Johnny thoughtfully.
"You know, Johnny,  you'd better ease up
venting like that. Cap's a cap. And what
he says, goes.."

"I know that. I know that.. But why does he always
have rank and privilege pull for him whenever he
feels like it should? Always seems to happen during
the hardest shifts. Especially full moon ones like
today's."

"Experience has its rewards, Johnny. And bailing out
at will just happens to be one of them associated
with Captain's rank." Roy said with a small shy 
smile.  "Come on, I'll haul out the gear boxes
and O2 to check them and you can get the dressings
and splints taken care of, all right..?"

Gage nodded and dejectedly followed him 
to the rear hatches of the trashed squad.
Chet ducked when they opened those doors
leading to the resuscitative apparatus, as beer 
cans poured out in a musical tumble onto the floor. 

Bonnie grabbed one and started growling 
as she attempted to chew it up.

"Hey, give me that.." Gage said. "You'll
break your teeth little girl.." and he traded
slimy beercan for rawhide bone. "Here,
take that.." he said. The toy he gave her
was so big, it pulled the tiny dog's head
to the floor and she had to tug with all
her might to get to her customary spot
under the engine to enjoy gnawing on it.

Roy dug out all the cans he had 
discovered, chuckling at Chet's overstrung
nerves and got to the O2 equipment and 
dragged it out. "Well, thank heavens for 
small mercys. Looks like this apparatus is ok."

Johnny flipped open the drug box and 
found only air. "Not here. Figures.. 
All the unused syringes are gone too."

The I.V. and dressings boxes were untouched,
but in the stokes, they found a dummy,
stuffed with trash and wearing a sign saying,
"Thanks for being the life of the party, fireboys!"

Roy heard Marco coughing as he leaned over
to scrub saltwater off the hood of the squad and
he casually said. "Lopez,  check out the 
resuscitator for me will you? Johnny and I need
to get a list together for a reissue of supplies."
And he motioned for Gage to follow him into
the kitchen with the drug and I.V. boxes.

"All right.. " Lopez said, raspily.

From around a corner, Roy watched 
Marco check all the psi readings and 
visualize the tubing connectors and 
regulators and then he smiled as Marco
did a draw check on the mask over his
own face with flowing O2. Lopez smiled
as the oxygen soothed his raw throat and
he took a few more thinking no one else was
watching him.

Johnny grinned, poking his partner in 
the ribs. "You crafty old.. You did that 
intentionally.."

"Course I did.. Did you think that Marco
would have let either one of us get any
where near that throat after the night we've
had.."

"No..." Johnny said, shaking his head 
thoughtfully.

"Well there you go.. That 02 will give him
relief and take away some of that inflammation
of his.." Roy said, as he sat at the kitchen 
table to check out the conditions of all their I.V.
solutions and setups.   

John was considering Roy's angle of attack
on Marco."Hey, Roy, I think I can trick Lopez into
drinking my mother's honey birch bark tea to 
coat that throat of his.."

"Not a chance.." Chet said making his
way into the kitchen to dump out
smeggy water from his bucket into
the sink.  "He's still sucking away
out there and loving it, but ah,
about him actually taking real 
medicine?  Uh uh, Gage. 
Ain't gonna happen. Not in your 
lifetime."

 "Oh, really." Gage grinned. "We got him
on oxygen therapy without him catching
onto us fussing. What makes you think 
I'll fail with doing more?"

Chet finishing filling his steel pail with hot
water from the tap."Because Roy here is
much better on the sly that you are, Gage.
If you try anything else, let HIM do it.."
and he walked back towards the garage.
"Or, if you two are really concerned about
Marco's cough, you can tell Cap about it."

Johnny looked at Kelly as if the sky had
fallen. "And ruin a great friendship?"

"Not to mention the direct tie to a wonderful
pair of burrito chefs.." Roy quipped.

"That too.." Johnny nodded eagerly.
"No way.. Chet. We're not going to resort
to that.. Marco's not a baby. We'll just
we'll just...uh,  "

"Fuss over him.." Roy completed for
his stammering partner. 

"Yeah.." 

"Ok, have it your way.." Kelly said.
Then his head peeked around the 
corner and he added, "I'll let you
know how long he uses the demand valve."

"You do that.." Johnny said with
firm concern.

-----------------------------------------

At Rampart, the fiasco with the San Pedro
gang, had died down. Dixie, Joe, Mike Morton
and Kel Brackett all sat around the nurses' 
lounge table nursing colorfully etched coffee
mugs.

None of them were saying much to each
other.

Until Dixie took her hand away from her chin.
"Hey Kel, How did that drowning fare? You know
the one who stole the squad from the fire 
department."

"Didn't make it."

"Oh," she said, suddenly interested in the cream
swirling in her mug. "Sorry.."

Joe piped up. "Two of the five aren't going home in
body bags at least, Dix. They'll be facing trial for 
grandtheft auto and impeding official rescue 
service. Not to mention possession of narcotics."

"Ah." McCall said without much vigor.

Another long stretch of silence reigned. Until Mike
said, "Hey, guys. Did you know that it was
51 whose squad was trashed?"

Dix, Kel and Joe all erupted into reaction.

"No, I didn't know.."
"Oh, my.. Those boys have seen their share
of misery this week."
"That's too bad. Anything we can do?" Joe 
added.

"I can see if I can swing some funds from
the paramedic training program to cover their
losses.." Brackett said.

Dixie added, "And I and the other nurses can
plan a party for the whole gang, to cheer them
up a little. How about this weekend? At my place?
I've a great little veranda, and a pool."

"What a great idea. It'll take their minds off
work for a while." Joe agreed.

"Then it's settled." Dixie grinned. "As soon as
I get off shift, I'll start making plans..maybe
even a surprise party angle will work.."

"Now wait a minute, Dix." Kel interjected.
"How do we know Roy and Johnny's crew
haven't already made plans for the weekend?"

"Easy to check.." Dix smiled. "We have all
the boys emergency phone numbers. We
can call their friends, family and spouses to
double check. I can do it."

"And I'll make the Beef Bourginon." Early 
piped up. "What are you going to do, Kel?"

"Wait a sec, I'm being dragged into this 
whole thing?"

Dixie's look could melt steel. "And why not?
You should at least make an appearance as
the head of Emergency Services-Rampart ;  
to show your appreciation for all the hard work 
your two best paramedics and their stationmates 
have done for us.. Especially this week. Kel, have
you seen their run sheets? They been frought
with fatalities..or else, it's those crazy dumpster fires.
That's bound to be more than just a little frustrating
don't you think?"

"Oh, all right. I guess I can bring a bottle of
wine or two over for a few hours.."  Brackett sighed, 
giving in to peer pressure.

"Well, all right.." Dix said. "Now we have
to come up with some entertainment."

Mike Morton said, "I can always bring my
guitar.."

"You sing?" Joe said, almost spitting out his
coffee. Brackett tossed him a napkin or
two to clean up before the dribble reached
his collar and white jacket.

"A little.." Morton said defensely crossing his
arms. But his smile was mild as he regarded
his colleagues. "I do a fair job."

"I sing too, doctor. " Dixie grinned. "And I'd
be honored if you'd let me sit in on a few
songs."

"Be my guest.."

"Then that's that.." Joe Early said. 

Everyone took his cue and rose in their
seats, eyeing the time running out for their
mutual breaks.

"I'll let you know what time this Saturday
boys.." Dixie said as they dispersed back 
into the hallway and to their own routines.

------------------------------------------

John looked up when he felt a tapping on
his shoulder. 

"A minute ten. Twenty two breaths,
Gage." Chet said, whispering around his 
newspaper at the table.

"What..?"

"That's how long and how often Marco
connected with the O2 earlier, man. You
said you wanted to know.."

"Oh, yeah. Right. Thanks, Chet. Seems to
have worked. He's speaking more
clearly and that cough of his has been
less."

"One more assist in the bag.." Chet 
said happily secretive. "His mother will
thank us for going through the trouble
of fussing like this."

"His mother?"

"Yeah, she's the one who called Roy 
asking him to check out Marco yesterday
night before we all went to bed."

"You actually talked to Rose Marie Lopez?"
John said with amusement. "I don't even
think I've ever met her.."

"Yes, sweet old thing. And we had a nice
conversation, too.." Chet said. "Seems
Marco's in the market for moving out of
the house and into an apartment for the
two of them.."

"He is?" Roy said, munching on a bagel.
"Money problems?"

"No, just getting closer to assisted care for his
mother. She says she's getting on and
would like someone to come in every
so often to help her out so Marco can
free up more of his time to live his own
life.."

"She told you that?" Johnny asked,
in a whisper. 

"Yeah, man. Like I said, she's a sweet little
old lady who'll talk your ear off just as
much as she'll fill your stomach with 
food you can die for.." Kelly admitted.

"Oh. Maybe we should  ah, should ..ah, help 
them out to find ...a place like that, Roy.." John said
when Chet retreated back into his funnies
section. "What do you think...?" he said uncomfortably
rubbing a non existent ache in his neck.

"Johnny, don't even go there. You know 
how private Marco gets with his personal life. 
If we're having this much trouble getting him 
cared for following fires, what kind of trouble 
do you think we'll get into prying into his private
affairs?" Roy asked reasonably.

"Well, I don't know. I.. I just think we should
help him, that's all.." Johnny grinned and frowned
with no confidence..

"Uh huh.. Easier said than done buddy boy.." Roy
said, and he turned back to his snack, trying not
to catch an irresistable snooze that seemed to
be creeping up on him in the background.

The noon day sun started streaming through the
window onto the couch and Bonnie stretched
out underneath it luxuriously lengthening her
limbs and moaning with a contented whine.

Cap quieted her with affectionate scratches on
her belly without looking around his incident reports.
"Nice job all, on the squad. We're back in business."

Marco piped up from the water glass he was
sipping gingerly. As yet, Johnny's herbal tea,
was untouched. "Anything to keep Brice out
of the station.." he quipped. Then he coughed
a few times, clearing loosening phlegm from his
chest.

Johnny and Roy both cocked an ear to hear
how those noises had sounded. Then the two 
paramedics both pursed their lips in grins of success
behind their newspaper pages. Things sounded 
way better for Lopez.

The phone rang and Captain Stanley rose to
answer it. "L.A. County Fire Department. This
is Captain Stanley... uh, huh.. " he said
as he listened to his caller. "Uh,.. hang on.."

He turned to the other guys and said.....

-------------------------------

Photo- The luckless squad with equipment
           strewn about.

Photo- Black and White of the Gang in the Kitchen.

****************************
 
From : Katherine Bird <kathbird01@yahoo.co.uk>  
Subject : [EmergencyTheaterLive] Big Brother..  
Date : Fri, 18 Oct 2002 21:42:50 +0100 (BST)  
 
>The phone rang and Captain Stanley rose to
>answer it. "LA County Fire Department. This
>is Captain Stanley... uh, huh.. " he said
>as he listened to his caller. "Uh,.. hang on.."

>He turned to the other guys and said.....

"Gage,.. it's a Lydia Montegeaux, calling from
San Bernadino, inside our district..."
For some reason, Cap was beaming ear to
ear.

Johnny shot up from his chair quickly to
snatch the phone away from Cap to cover
the receiver before the entire company erupted
into cat calls and hoots and whistles.

"WHeeuuueeEEEeeee, way to go, Gage."

"Is this that chick you were trying to call
last night? Man she must be really hung on
you Gage to call back after you didn't."

"Another date? Hey fellas, five dollars down
he doesn't arrange dinner plans during this 
phonecall. Put your gatas where your boca is.."
Marco rasped.

"I'm in.." Mike said, pulling out his wallet and
throwing down a crisp five where Marco was
pointing on the table top vigorously.

Cap just threw up his hands. "You guys
are relentless.. Now cut that out.. Give the
man some privacy.."

They ignored Cap because he was still
grinning and even Roy threw down a rumpled
bill on top of Chet, Marco and Mike's.

John shot acid towards them all ,
hunching over around the mouthpiece
of the phone, turning his back towards the 
rest of the gang after hissing a few indignant
warnings to them all to hush down. Then
he completely changed his tone of voice.
"Uh, Lydia, Hi sweety. *Smooch* I love
you, too. How's your arm today? Yeah?
The doctors give you a big cast?  Wow,
I can just imagine. " he paused and his
face beamed into a big smile as he
slipped into a bonafide protective mode
with his voice.


The guys piped down when they realized
that Gage was talking to a little girl of
all things. All their mouths hung open,
then one by one, they all retrieved their
betting money back thoughtfully as they
more or less politely easedropped.

Mike started guessing. "Is this a kid
you and Johnny had on a rescue?"

Roy shook his head and shrugged.


Chet said, "Cap, why didn't you tell us
it was a little girl on the phone.."

"Because it was none of your business,
Kelly, now was it..?" he said from around
the sports page. "I tried to warn you all
to respect Gage's privacy...."

Roy studied his now empty coffee cup
and spun it around on its base in deep
thought. "Yeah, that you did.."

Johnny turned around towards the
table again and suddenly finger snapped
for a pad of paper and a pen, his green
one still on the wordfind he had been
working on before the phone call.

All the guys hastily shot to their feet,
to give the writing pad to him and his
trusty pen..

"Give me that..." Johnny said, his voice's
bite toned down, when he saw them 
kowtowing sheepishly to aid
him because of their childish behavior
a minute ago. 

He shuffled phone receiver
to one shoulder and a chin and said,
"OK, I got something to write on, hon.
What was that again? 414 Rural route 60, 
San Bernadino Iduhapi Campground
Resort?  Yeah, so that was where I was
calling into last night . It's that
camp you told me about where the counselors 
take you into the woods and stuff for
hikes and then teach Braille.  

Yes, that's right. You said your grandfather was
sending you there this week.

Yeah, That's not too far away for
me to come visit ya.. I'll be coming..
Don't you worry..After all, I am
your "Big Brother".." he grinned, and visibly
melted as a very young voice warbled 
excitedly into his ear. 

"And I'm sorry about
not calling last night like we planned for
your cabin's sleepover in the morning 
in time for sunrise show and tell. I sorta 
kinda got interrupted..."  And he glared at
the gang for the treatment he'd received
last night trying to contact Lydia. 

"Huh?
No. no.. It's wasn't for a rescue. Just a..
just a tiny garbage fire.. Heh. "
and he laughed. "Yeah, there's a lotta 
garbage in the city, that I'll admit. 

Yeah, I got it all right here. Your address
and everything. You're really close, just
a few miles away up in the mountains.
I'll write and send ya a care package for
you and the other girls all right? Ok.
I promise I'll come visit ya on my shift off,
yeah, I'll bring my firehat. I promise.. Ok,
gotta go. ..Bye bye, Lydia.."

And he hung up, smiling to himself
hugely as he made his way back over to
the kitchen table. 

The fellas were quiet, absorbing what they
had overheard. Then Chet spoke up.

"She a niece or something, uh, Gage?"

"No..no.  I.. I sort of volunteered for the Big
Brother Program earlier this spring. Lydia's
blind, and I got picked to be her sponsor for
the summer. You know.. penpalling, picnics,
that sort of thing. You see, Lydia's five and
she requested a firefighter for her sponsor. 
heh. Guess she did that because her own 
father was one and passed on when she was 
three in a car accident...And, that's also, 
how she got blinded..." Johnny said. 

Then he cleared his throat self consciously. 
"Well.. now that all your nosy curiosities
are satisfied.. I think I'll get back to my 
puzzles.." he said with a final glare of
challenge. He met none, only nods of
understanding and warmth.

Chet spoke up again. "Wow, Gage, that's
that's really something. Being a sponsor 
and all for her like that. I've heard of
the Iduhapi retreat. That's in the heart of
the San Bernadino Mountains, isn't it?"

"Yep. Halfway between us and Station Ten. 
Believe it or not, it was Brice who told me about
the Big Brother program they had going
with the camp. I mean, I couldn't look 
like a fool and not help out you know what
I mean?. He called me about it this spring.."

Mike chuckled. "You mean you got suckered
into volunteering because Brice was..."

Johnny felt pinned when that truth was
revealed. He just rolled his eyes and contented
himself with tightening his lips.

Marco coughed and said, finally sipping Johnny's
special tea.. "Amigo, when are the two of
you going to stop this one upmanship of yours.
I mean. Even your paramedic re-cert scores
were the same last month. I can just see it..
Soon, you'll start donating to the same 
charities in higher and higher amounts
just to see who'll top the other.."

"Yeah, well I draw the line there.. Brice is
Brice is.. not my idea of a fastheld friend
but there's station honor to uphold. Our
station was the only one who wasn't involved
with this Big Brother thing.. Couldn't let
that stay that way.."

"Appreciate it, Gage.." Cap said. "McConnike
called about Station Ten's program and I was
very very glad that you were already on
the rosters. Only got a grunt of approval
from the chief and no inspection dates."
he said with relief..

"Glad to have obliged. I wash your back,
and you wash m--, oh never mind, Cap. 
I'm having fun. Lydia's something really 
special and I'm really glad I can be there
for her.."

Roy smiled, getting up to fetch the coffee
pot. "Want more coffee, Johnny?" he
said.

"Oh, no thanks." then he noticed Marco
drinking his medicinal tea. "Hey, Roy..
He's doing it.." he said, holding up his
puzzle page so Marco wouldn't hear
him talking about him. "And Kelly here
thought I wouldn't be able to get
it by Lopez. Hehehe.. shows him
a thing or two.."

Roy rubbed his forehead. "Yeah, well.
As long as Marco's cough goes away
I'm happy."

"Oh, it will. It will." Johnny said. 
"Between the two of us, we'll get
him squared away."

Chet had over heard. "Yeah, that's
until the next big fire un-does all that
nice preventative work.."

"Shhst.." Gage said, knocking on 
wood.

Marco licked his lips, draining the
last of his cup and set it down 
while he read the National Geographic
article he was turned to.

Gage leaned in to Roy. "Hey, Roy,
think I should sneak over there and
pour more tea for him?"

"Nah, don't over do it.. or he'll catch
on.."

"You're right." Gage said.
"We'll just keep an ear out like we've
been doing.."

Roy said, "Ummmhmmm." from deep
inside his article.

Johnny turned back to his puzzle with a 
good heart, smiling when the next word
he found in his paper turned out to
be .. 'samaritan.'

Bonnie barked when the clock struck one
pm and the cuckoo popped out from
over the couch, disturbing her nap.


All was quiet for the next half hour until....

---------------------------

Photo:  Gage smiling like a proud papa.

Gif: A District map showing all firehouses in
      the Emergency show and their locations.

Photo: Johnny's fireman's hat.

************************** 
From :  "Cassidy Meyers" <killashandrarey@hotmail.com>  
Subject :  [emergencytheaterlive] Bonnie's Bad Day  
Date :  Mon, 21 Oct 2002 11:36:53 +0400  
   

>Bonnie barked when the clock struck one
>pm and the cuckoo popped out from
>over the couch, disturbing her nap.

>All was quiet for the next half hour until....

Roy noticed something strange. It made
him do a double take from his newspaper.
::What th--?:: he thought.

Bonnie had left her couch and was cowering
under it, trembling.

Roy nudged Johnny, who was deep into
writing a pen pal letter to Lydia, the blind
girl from his phone call, and he pointed Bonnie
out without saying anything.

Gage immediately frowned. "Chet, did
you go and do something stupid like
yell at Bonnie over some infraction or
anything?"

Kelly stopped working out with his hand
held barbells on the exercise mat next to
the mop cupboard. "What?Huh?" Then
he noticed Bonnie laying low, too.
"I haven't moved from this mat,
buddy, since your phone call. I'm innocent
this time. Maybe she's mad at you. It's
your bunk she chooses to use as territory
marking post on occasion."

"Very funny.." Johnny said. He walked over
and noticed Cap watching Bonnie, too, from
his black recliner. "Cap, what do you make
of it?"

"I don't know. Maybe she's sick or something.
Her food's hardly touched. Why don't you two 
go check her out? You and Roy are the stationhouse
paramedics here.." he said in a no nonsense tone
of voice that was also an order and he arched an
eyebrow before turning back to his stocks page.

Johnny began a protest, "Cap, I..."

Hank briskly folded his paper to another page loud
enough to drown out Gage's remark. Then he
said, "Do I hear a little bird in here? Sounds
like it's tweeting too hard or something.. Marco,
why don't you go to the shed and open the 
main doors so it can get on its merry way.."

Chet sniggered and so did Marco and Mike.
Roy just rolled his eyes at his long time partner
and was the first one to get up out of
his chair to amble over to where Bonnie was
cowering under the couch beneath Marco's legs.

DeSoto knelt on his knees and peered into
the darkness under the leather cushions.
"Come here Bonnie.. Come on, girl. I just
want to take a look at you.." he started 
baby talking when she picked up her muzzle
from the floor and dipped her head at him,
rising to her feet. "Yes, let me see you..."

The tiny Yorkie whined a bit,  and timidly wagged
her tail but came finally into his hands. Roy picked her
up, scratching her head and sat on the couch
with her.  

Johnny sighed heavily and pushed back with a
linoleum wood squeal in his kitchen chair and
made a production of joining Roy with Bonnie.

The dog was just as shy but affectionate with
Gage as she was with Roy and that puzzled 
both men when nothing seemed amiss with
her physically. Johnny said, "Now, Cap. I've
been down this doggy exam route before.
There's nothing wrong with her that we can
tell.."

"There must be, Gage. Have you ever known
Bonnie to cower and hide before?" Cap
countered.

Chet piped up, "Not even after she's been 
using Gage's sheets as a latrine..."

The guys laughed.

Johnny glared at them. "Ok, all right you 
guys..So you've had good laugh off me.
Now be quiet for a sec.."Then he lifted
Bonnie's chin and went nose to nose with
her. "Bonnie..Hey, I'm not annoyed at all here.. 
At least, not with you..." and he shot a 
look at Chet. "So what's your problem 
you little wriggling ball of fur?"

Bonnie whined again and licked his nose
bashfully. Gage caught his breath and
pulled away, wiping doggy kiss off.
"Yeah,.. love you too.." and he got up
again. "Listen, Cap, I don't know what
her problem i--hey... I know, maybe 
she's sick of her food. You know, maybe 
she wants a change.."

"Yeah, a change like staying 
away from you, Gage.." Kelly said, 
unrelenting. "Why else would she
be singling out your bunk and not
anyone else's?"

Cap threw an "end of fun" look at
Kelly and replied. "Worth a shot there,
Gage. Why don't you try some of that
bacon from the crisper. There's some left
over in there from breakfast."

Mike said, "You mean, Marco didn't
finish it all?"

Lopez vigorously shook his head.
"My throat's still rawer than anything.
I only wanted a few bites.."

"Ok. All right.." Johnny said holding up
surrendering hands. "I'll bribe her,
just like I do with the cookies at night
to keep her from howling.."

Bonnie watched Johnny go to the frig,
listening to his babytalk tempting,
right up until the bacon was held under
her trembling nose. Her whine cut off
and she sneezed with tension, jumped
off the couch and retreated underneath 
it once more.

The whole gang heard her whimpering 
start up all over again..

Johnny threw up his hands in resignation
and shrugged. "I tried.." Then he looked
at the bacon in his fingers and decided
it looked pretty good so he dropped
some of it into his mouth and the rest
he slid under the couch with his foot.

Cap concluded. "Chalk it up to another
Bonnie personality quirk. Michelle did say
Bonnie would be very like her mother that
way."

"Spitting image..." Gage grunted.

Roy said, still slumped quietly on the couch.
"I don't know.. This Bonnie's got more class.
When she has a bone, even Steger on B shift
can't get it away from her."

"Heh. That's true.." Gage chuckled. Then he
put his hands on his hips. "Why don't we
just wait and see how she does for the 
rest of the day. If she's still off by shift
change, we can just have them call the 
V-E-T later.."

From under the couch, Bonnie's soft, incessant
whines shut up.

"Smart dog.." Marco said. "The old Bonnie
never caught on to us spelling that word
out l-.."

Right then the doorbell on the side entrance 
rang..

"Ah, it's the school kids.." Mike said, "They're
here with their teacher to get a tour of the
firehouse.."

"All right everyone.. Neaten up. Gage, tie your
shoe.." Cap ordered. Gage lifted a knee and 
did so, losing his balance in his haste.

Then all stood as Mike led their guests into the kitchen.
"Hello. Glad you could make it.. Everyone..this
is Miss Cindy Thorne.. and these, running around 
us in figure eights, are seven students 
of hers from the Grover Middleland school.. " 
Stoker introduced.

A short pixie like blond in a scarlet red dress
came through the door and took off her
sunglasses. "Fireman Stoker. Nice to see you
again.. I hope it's not too busy a day today for
that tour we prearranged." she said, shaking 
the hand of the man she had only heard on
the phone before.

"Not too busy.." Stoker grinned, letting go
of her palm. "Glad you made it over. Traffic
must have been a bear.."

And at the same time.. Gage spoke, too.
"No, no.. it's ok. In fact, we've done nothing
much in the way of runs today.. except a few
alley burns and a bunch of thugs who made
off with the sq--" Johnny started up, but Roy nudged
him subtly in the ribs in a hint.  "Ah,..helped us
get a lot of cleaning done today..."

Cindy stayed focused on Mike, the one fireman she
knew and replied to his comment.
"The usual. I had the school van take us over
instead of using the bus. I parked it in the back
lot, is that ok?"

"Sure.. that's fine. That's where we
park our own cars.." Marco said.

"That's right.." Cap brightened eagerly. "We have
uh, milk and cookies for the kids if you'd like after
the tour... Fireman Lopez's mother brought some over 
with lunch just two hours ago..." he said thoroughly
gentlemanly. All the gang's faces lit up when the kids
excited laughter and chatter about being in a real 
station house brought back childhood memories
of their own and they gathered around the happy
throng of seven children.

"That's ok, captain. I made sure the kids had 
eaten before bringing them over. Last thing
they need is more sugar. They're rowdy enough as
it is.." the pretty teacher said as clusters of girls and 
boys ran in circles in a good natured tag game around
them all.

"Ok.. uh, would you like to split up the kids and
have my men take one or two each to show 
them around the firehouse?" Hank asked.

"That would be wonderful..Might work out
better separating them like that. They can be
a handful.." she laughed. " The kids were
so excited about coming here for their
annual field trip.."

"No problem.. They know to rejoin you
immediately if the call tones go off for us?"

"Yes. We've rehearsed that just before coming
here."

Chet picked two of the older boys and said,
"Right, You and you. We get to play with
the sirens first..Race ya!!" and the curly haired
firemen with his two shadows headed off
in a mad dash for the La France..

"Aww, man.." said one boy not picked,
watching them go..

Roy picked him up. "We'll all get a turn.
Just be patient there. What Fireman Kelly
doesn't know is that MY group gets
to wear the helmets first.... Who's coming....?"

"Me!! Me!!" came a girl's voice,  a blond child
dressed in blue and red.

"Ok, looks like we go with this young lady here
all right..?.." he said, setting down the 
disappointed boy. Roy and his two children
trundled off to the garage shed after Chet's
group of two. "Marco, why don't you come
with me?" his voice floated back. "We'll get
out our two helmets from the squad.."

"Sure thing pal.." Lopez said, giving the elementary
teacher a jaunty wave of departure. And he, too,
disappeared through the kitchen door.

Johnny took two more girls, twins, to show 
them the hoses in the back yard so they 
could play man the hose by the old engine 
parked out back. His two children eagerly 
ran up to the antique and climbed on board it.

Cap saw where they were through the kitchen 
window and grinned when they all heard the brass
bell go off as the two girls experimented.. 

Then he looked down at the final child, a 
very tiny boy with glasses, still holding his 
teacher's hand. He knelt by his side. "Hey 
son, why the long face? I'm the only fireman in this
whole station house who's the captain.."

"Wow.." he said, eyes getting really big..

"Yeah, so it looks like you and 
me are the only ones left.. That means we
get to do the best thing before any of the others..
Mike's gonna stay back and chat with Miss Thorne here
while we get to go do the tour.. 
Have you ever seen a dispatch radio before?"

Cindy, Cap and Mike all grinned, thoroughly captivated
by the cute awed expression on the boy's face when
he slowly shook his head from side to side in hushed
anticipation.  

Cap went on.."Well, I can let you talk to Sam, the man
who calls out all the firemen everywhere to
respond on rescues if you'd like.."

"Wow.. can I really do that?"

Cap winked at Cindy.. "It'll be the afternoon station's
check.." he said aside.
"Right this way.." Cap said, bending over
and taking the herostunned boy's tiny hand
into his own big one. 

They disappeared out to the garage, too,
to the radio substation alcove by the big 
LA County map.

Stoker was left with Miss Thorne by the table
"Well, have a seat. This may take a while. The
gang gets pretty entertaining whenever school
tours stop on by...."

"I can just imagine..." Cindy said.. as sirens
and engine hoots and antique pumper bells
filled the air punctuated by animated laughter
from both children and firemen alike..

Then she heard a subtle whining that she
hadn't noticed before because of her student's
happy noises.....  "Do you have a station dog 
around here, Mr. Stoker? I think I'm hearing one."

"Oh, yes, That's Bonnie. She's having an off
day today. She just started carrying on about
two minutes before you and the kids arrived.
It's nothing. As far as we can tell there's nothing
wrong with her. She's right there under the couch."

"Poor thing. She doesn't sound too happy 
right now at all. One would think that she was
upset because of the kids.."

"oh, no, Miss Thorne. She's usually running around
playing tag with them full throt--" Mike broke
off his sentence when Bonnie's crying suddenly
ceased abruptly.

A subtle low rumble rose from the ground and
trembled into a great belching roar that slammed
into their ears, shaking Station 51 up to the 
rafters .

Laughter turned to screams from the children
as the full teeth of a sudden earthquake threw them
to the ground whereever they were from truck
or hose like paper dolls.

Out in the garage, the tremor burst open the
main doors and they squealed in metal
shrieks as they rose in their tracks until
the fierce shuddering split them apart.

---------------

In the fire engine..Chet grabbed his two boys and 
shoved their heads down onto the
floor as he himself ducked as the ceiling
came down in the garage, lights, rafter,
roof and all, on top of the LaFrance, only
narrowly missing Roy's side of the rescue
squad.

-------------------

Roy had his two students under the squad,
and all three were choking on dust from the
walls and from the stove's ruptured gas line
pouring from the darkened kitchen. 
He hugged the children's helmeted heads 
tightly to himself and started to pray..

-------------------

Cap shouted but couldn't be heard over
the roar of violated earth moving beneath
the foundations. He yanked his terrified
student deeper into the comm's alcove 
and pushed him against the wall to cover
him up with his own body as the garage
roof caved in behind them over the engine
and part of the squad.

-------------------

Simultaneously, out in the yard, Johnny 
managed to grab the two girls with him off
the old engine and he brought them
to the ground into the only open area 
away from the yard's brickwalls, before 
they swayed, disintegrated and collapsed 
around them. 

In his worry for the girls, Gage,
wasn't fast enough to get himself into 
the clear.


---------------------------
Only twenty feet away, the kitchen was 
remaining intact, shaking and shuddering. 
Mike Stoker and Cindy crawled
under the swaying, shifting table,
with Cindy screaming all the while 
for the children at the top of her voice.

---------------------
Dust and tremendous destructive
noise filled the air everywhere, for
about a minute more, before silence fell over
the place where six firemen, seven children
and one teacher had been playing so
joyfully a short time before.

***

***

Cars on the boulevard outside Station 51,
skidded out of control and screeched brakes
as their equilibrium was thrown off as the 
earthquake sputtered and writhed around
them. Then an awful quiet fell over stopped
traffic as people, one by one, staggered
from their halted vehicles.

One driver looked up and couldn't believe
his eyes. The firehouse he normally
drove by everyday, had its garage 
collapsed down on top of its 
rescue squad and engine until only 
its outer walls were standing. 

"Oh my god..!" he said, "The crew must still in 
there!" and he and others rushed forward,
but the earthquake had sent the water from
burst hydrant out front, high into the air and 
smothering clouds of dirt and dust kept them
from getting closer to the partially
downed firehouse.

From inside.. There was no sound
coming at all until the tones for 
the California EBS system began to
issue from the place the dazed auto
driver knew was the station's radio alcove.

A dispatcher's voice took up a new 
note of urgency when his board showed
one base station horribly dark off his
channel monitor.
##Station 51. Topological Survey 
reports a Richter Scale Class ground
tremor in your vicinity. What's
your comm and station status? 
...Station 51, This is L.A. Respond....##

Outside, the disbelieving 
driver didn't know if there was anyone
still left alive in the rubble he was seeing
to answer the call...

 -----------------------------

Photo : A very cute Bonnie wearing a red bow.

Photo : The Station with both doors open, getting
             a tour with kids in the yard.

Photo :  A pile of red tumbled bricks in close up.


Photo :  A crushed fire engine.

Photo : Station 51's block, levelled by an earthquake.
            Avenue and power lines in front are intact.

Gif : The Emergency! title in red.

Gif :  An Earthquake alert symbol and icon in red and         
        black.

Audio : The disaster all call speaker tones, for four             
            alarm call.
 
*************************************
From : "patti keiper" <pattik1@hotmail.com>  
Subject : [EmergencyTheaterLive] Aftermath  
Date : Mon, 21 Oct 2002 19:54:57 +0000  
 
>##Station 51. Topological Survey 
>reports a Richter Scale Class ground
>tremor in your vicinity. What's
>your comm and station status? 
>...Station 51, This is LA. Respond....##

In the blackness, the boy with glasses
looked up. He could see a yellow light
flashing on the radio over his head
and could hear the dispatcher speaking.

He was crying steadily in small sobs
from where he sat up against the brick
wall, and he looked out into the daylit
ruins of the garage. A steady cloud of 
water misted from the shattered hydrant 
by the street into the bay and cleared 
away some of the worst of the dust.

##Station 51. Transmit HT as an 
alternative. All bands have been cleared 
for you. This is L.A.. Respond....##

The boy looked down.
Next to him on the ground was the
fireman who said he was captain for
the others. He was lying on his stomach
and not moving. Remembering what his
mother taught him about helping people,
he got up, pushing wood chards and
debris off of himself, he quickly  
snatched the microphone off its
spigot and held it to his mouth. He knew
about CB radios because his dad had one.
"Mister... I'm in the fire house! 
The roof came down and I can't 
wake the captain fire chief.... Hurry!.." 
he sniffed, very frightened.

Around him, rising warm wind from the 
outside and sounds of frightened people
on the avenue filtered in to him. 

Gasping, the boy could see another foot 
underneath the red vehicle in front of him. 
It was Susie, his friend's, and it was 
starting to move as if someone were 
pulling her.

There was a long pause as L.A. checked
to be sure things were switched to a one 
to one frequency. Then..Sam's voice 
came back on the air.##Son. Understood. 
I've got help coming. It's on the way. ##

Robbie could hear multiple call signs going
out on the air behind the man's voice. All
he could think about was that it was alot
of numbers. 8, 10, 127 ,36, Batallion 14...
He started to memorize them in his 
shock but the dispatcher man's voice 
dragged back his attention..

##What's your name?##

"R-Robbie.. my teacher's name is Miss
Thorne.. We were here on a tour of
the firehouse. "

##All right Robbie..There's been an 
earthquake and that's why things
are fallen down. Do you think your fireman
Captain Stanley, is still alive? ## Sam asked.

"Yes.." Robbie replied. "He's making noises."

#Good. How many besides your teacher
were with you..?##

"Seven, sir.."

##Ok. Now, I want you to get out of 
there if you can. Can you see the daylight
from the main doors. Are they open?##

"Y-yeah. But its hard to see... The fire 
hydrant's on and there's a funny smell
in here.."

Sam was side keying a dispatch to the gas
company to shut off service to that block
with one hand. He turned back to his 
microphone to Robbie, still inside the shattered
fire station. Already, he was getting citizen's
reports about further damage to the
building next to Station 51 and minor reports
of some more in nearby warehouses. But none
were as bad as those coming in about the
station house.
#Robbie. Drop the microphone and leave. 
It's not safe for you to stay. Don't worry 
about your teacher and other classmates.
There are more firemen and police on 
the way who'll take care of them. Now go.##

L.A. heard the line disconnect as the child
dropped the radio mike.

Sobbing.. Robbie, gave one last look at
Cap, who was moaning as he started to
awaken, and crawled over him and over
brick piles and sections of the ceiling rafters.
He made his way through the spraying water
from the ruptured water line and safely 
outside the collapsed garage.

Sam switched to Station 51's HT frequency 
and started hailing. ##Station 51. This
is L.A. monitoring on handheld frequencies
bands. Your situation is noted and assistance
is on the way...Gas company has been
notified....Station 51, do you copy?##

==========================

Once Robbie was outside, the auto driver
who had stopped earlier, snatched him up.
"Are you all right, son? Where were you?"
He cast his eyes on the still dusting, smoking
debris of the main garage. He couldn't see
where the boy had come from at all.

"I was in there..on a field trip..But I talked
to the radio dispatcher man and he has other
fire engines coming!" But then the situation
proved too much and the tiny boy fainted
in the man's arms.

The group of people from the avenue
gave shouts of dismay as the man lowered
the boy to the cracked concrete of
the boulevard to make sure he was
all right. No one had the presence
of mind to go into the firehouse, distracted
because of their concern for the pale boy.
 
=======================


Roy coughed and looked over his shoulder
just in time to see Robbie safely getting out.
His arms were full of two weeping little kids,
still in their tour helmets.  Marco, was 
nowhere to be seen. ::He was right here
next to us...:: Roy thought, peering around
in urgency. 

Overhead, he could hear the actions L.A.
was taking to aid them all. He snatched up
a handy talkie from inside the squad's
shattered driver's window when the squad door
didn't open. "L.A., This is Squad 51.. Still
here. Stand by. I gotta get some of these
children out..Will advise once I know more." 
Roy could almost hear the sound of
audible relief in Sam's voice. 

##10-4, 51. ETA of responding units is
four minutes..##

Already, Roy could hear PD sirens growing
in the distance as they wove around
scattered stopped vehicles on the boulevard.

Roy wiped away blood from his forehead 
and he shouted, "Cap!!"

"Ughhh..h.." came a moan from his
left.

Roy turned to the boy and girl, gripping their
arms. "Now did you see where that
little boy just went? He was getting
out to safety.. Now I want you to
follow him.."

"We don't want to leave you..."
one of them cried.

"It's ok to be scared. But there
are people out there who are
going to be able help you better than I
can in here. You're going to be
fine.. I'll show you exactly where
to crawl out.." Roy gasped.

He lifted them over sections of
the roof and winced as cold hydrant
water covered them all. ::At least
a fire can't start in here.:: He 
glanced down where he saw Cap
struggling to sit but Cap waved him
on even as he held his sore head.

"Go, DeSoto.. Finish what you're 
doing.. I'm ok.." Hank said. "I'm
not going to go anywhere until you're 
with me.."

"All right.. Here, Cap.." and Roy tossed
him the HT he had retrieved. He
started shouting even as he picked
up each child and watched them
go through the tangle of metal
garage door sheeting to the street. 
"Marco! Chet! Answer me!"

A blast of an air horn from the engine 
under the worst of the debris pile cut
through the hiss of spouting water and
Roy smiled. ::Chester B, am I glad to
hear you. You must've gotten your
boys into the cab all right..::

Roy saw drivers intercept his tour kids
even as they clustered around the
first little boy lying in the street who
was already waking up from his faint.

DeSoto leaned heavily on the garage
frame for only a moment before
he went back towards the squad. Only
half of it was buried. He touched Cap
on the arm, who had staggered to his
feet to hang onto the squad's mirror.
"You better?" he asked as he pulled 
the passenger side door open for the 
paramedic helmets there and got 
out the two turnout coats from 
the side compartment he could reach. 
He handed Johnny's to Cap to wear
and put on his own. 

"Yeah, I think so. I think a board 
hit me in the head when I pushed
the boy out of the way..." he 
gasped, catching his breath.. "I
heard Kelly's blast just now. 
Any sign of Lopez?"

Roy shook his head. "Not yet."
Then he thought of something else.
"Mike!!" And he yelled to the kitchen
which was now dark. A part of the roof outside
had fallen over the window, blocking out
the sunlight. 

The smell of gas was very strong 
when they both got there to where the door 
was partially jammed open. Looking through 
the cracked glass window in the door, 
they saw a pair of legs on the floor...
Lopez's...

"Marco?!!"
Roy started to push on the door,
trying to break it out of its jammed
frame.

"No, you need an air bottle in there. 
Go!" Cap said, pulling him away.

Roy ran back to the squad, shoving and
kicking away debris to get to the right
store compartment. He got on his
tank in record time. He was back
at the kitchen entryway when Cap
finally got the door open with a crowbar.

Hank coughed as a wall of gas boiled
out over him. "Get him out first.
Then go back for Stoker and the
woman.." Cap ordered Roy as
DeSoto put on his face mask and
reset his helmet over it..

A small form shot out from under
their feet, from the darkness, 
yelping.. It was Bonnie..
She disappeared through a crack
leading to the backyard as if on
a mission..

Roy sighed in relief.. "Bonnie's alive.
Gas can't be too bad in there.." he
shouted through his face plexiglass.

He got to Marco and grabbed him
by the shoulders. Even as Roy did so,
he shouted. "Mike!!  Miss Thorne!!?"

He couldn't see anything at first
as his retinas still burned with sun
dazzle.. But then he saw that the 
side door had been chopped down with an
axe and opened and he caught a brief 
glimpse of Stoker carrying out Miss 
Thorne into the only direction he 
could, into the backyard.. 
She seemed out cold and he seemed
to be hurrying more than just because
of the gas danger. ::She must be worse off than
Marco if Stoker left him behind.:: Roy thought.

Then Cap's HT crackled as Roy finished
dragging Marco out near where outside
air was pouring through the children's 
escape hole washing away the
gas fumes.  Roy listened to a new 
incoming voice even as he watched 
Cap get Marco's airway secure 
for a listening check. 

It was Chet..
##I'm ok, and two twin girls and
the boys who were with me. We're
out in the yard! I don't see 
Gage. But I think I know where 
he is.. Bonnie's digging through 
a brick pile..## came Kelly's voice. 
##The woman's respiratory arrested. 
Stoker's working on her now.## 

Roy pulled off his mask and tank
and snatched up the HT Cap
had left on Marco's stomach. 
##We hear you Chet. Hang on.
Marco's unconscious, too. Let us get
a handle on his situation and
we'll be right there! We got
the rest of the kids out. L.A.'s
on the ball and the gas is getting 
shut off..##  He heard the sirens
from the approaching police car
arrive and shut down. Very soon,
Roy heard someone climbing over
the debris in the driveway and 
a face peered into the place in 
the torn main doors where the 
children had gotten out. 

It was Vince. "You boys ok in there?!
Everyone's fine out here by the road!"

Roy shouted from his place by
Cap and Marco, talkie still in hand
and to his ear, listening to Chet's
continuing report even while he
shouted at Vince.
"Go to the yard Vince!.. Johnny's trapped
and Stoker and Chet's got an arrest
victim.. We'll get out there with
the gear soon as we can..Marco needs
us right now."
He ducked when Vince's body weight
and movement jarred tilted rafters
and made plaster pieces fall onto 
the three of them as he hastened to
go where directed.  

Roy glanced back down to Marco, 
removing his overcoat.
"Cap, is he still breathing?"

 --------------------------

Photo: Cap outside in a closeup.

*Animated gif* Flames, burning low.

Photo : The Gang in the station garage bay
             around the squad and engine. 

Photo : Close up of the Squad's gearboxes in their
            storage racks.

Gif:    The word "quick" in melted and burning metal, wafting
          smoke.

Photo : Closeup of Roy outside, wearing a stethoscope.
 
*****************************************
Date: Mon, 21 Oct 2002 23:37:20 -0700 (PDT) 
From: "Patti  Keiper" <theaterhost@voyagerliveaction.com>  
Subject:  Digging by Daylight.. 
 
Hank looked up. "Barely. He's gonna
need O2 and I think something else
is wrong with him. He feels awfully hot
to me."

"Yeah well, we gotta get him out of
here first. Who knows when the gas 
company will get L.A's stop order. This
earthquake might have given them
higher priorities.." Roy said. "Last thing
we need is 100 % O2 mixing with all
the fumes in here." 

"Hey..Knock it off, t-that's my line." Cap
quipped. 

Roy grinned, which levelled, as he 
concentrated on a quick assessment of
Marco's condition.
He got a grip on Lopez's carotid, and paused
as he got an initial breathing rate visually.
"Marco's doing well enough for an evac,
Cap.. Watch him a sec.  I'm going to 
see if I can free up a stokes for him and the 
resuscitator. Stoker's gonna need it if 
that school teacher's down too deep."

"I remember hearing about her.."
Cap shook his head, trying to clear it.
"Yeah. That's right..S-Sounds like a plan.."

Roy looked up at Cap. "Hey. You
all right to be alone for a bit? You still
look groggy."

"It's nothing. I'm only a little woozy.
Go.." he said, meeting Roy's eyes
evenly with his own to show the 
truth in his words.

DeSoto studied Cap for a moment
but was finally convinced. He ran.

He got to where the squad's rear 
compartment was and started to 
lift off rafter beams and ceiling 
pieces until he got down to the 
rescue truck's heavy equipment 
locker doors. 

Miraculously, he got everything 
he needed free in half a minute. 

He set the biophone, drug box, 
defib, O2, and the I.V. box next to 
the squad stokes on the brick strewn floor 
in the only narrow space available. Along 
the wall map's baseboard.

On a whim thought, he grabbed
shovel. ::There's not much digging Chet and 
Vince can do getting to Johnny with their 
bare hands.::

That done he shouted. "Cap.. How're
you doing?!"

Hank didn't answer right away.

"Cap?!'

"Huh? I'm fine. I'm fine.. What do you
got over there?" Cap said.

Roy moved to check out the split
garage doors where Bonnie had run 
through to get to the back yard. 
He smiled and just about cried when 
he saw almost a two meter gap. 
:: Tipped on its side, the stokes could pass 
through that rear door fissure easily..:: 
"Found a way out. I'm coming back!"

And he ran back through the dusty mist
to the front of the garage, almost leaping
over the debris piles. "Cap..did you 
hear me? We're getting outta here.."

He screeched to a halt when he rounded
the fender of the squad.

Cap was crouched, still squatting on his feet, 
almost on top of Marco, but he was slumped 
over with his head sagging down.

Roy grabbed his shoulder, his stomach
flipping. But Cap immediately lifted his head.

Recovering from his fright, Roy spelled it 
out in no uncertain terms.
"Hey, are you going to be able to do this, 
Cap? If you're feeling hurt worse than you 
think you are, I can go get Ch--"

"No. Roy, let's just get him out now. I'll sit down 
once we're outta danger.." Cap said, looking 
at his paramedic. He grabbed onto Marco's 
feet and picked them up, while Roy got his 
shoulders. "Come on.. Let's move. Look,
his resp rate's already dropping off.
Marco won't be able to wait much longer for O2
if you detour. Besides, neither Kelly nor Vince
will want to leave trying to get Gage outta 
trouble without a fight. And that will cause 
a serious delay my friend.. Don't
tell me that it won't."

He wasn't happy, but Roy didn't protest further. 

It took several minutes, with 
Cap stumbling and sweating over boards 
and bricks for both of them to get Marco 
safely enscounced into the stokes and strapped 
in. They piled all the gear on top of him for a one 
trip carry, until they got to the split in the 
rear hanger doors Roy had found. 

Roy gestured for Cap to head 
on through first to accept gear in hand-offs. 

Soon the three of them were free from
the shattered ruin of station 51's garage, 
and into clearer air and sunlight.

Cap grunted when he saw the level of
destruction around them in the yard.
The high tan brick walls ringing the station
were completely levelled.
"My god, the epicenter must have been 
right here.." He barely got stumbling
to where Mike was when he dropped 
Marco's stokes the last few inches to 
the ground.

Roy said, "Think you're right, Cap. Now just
take it easy over there.You've done all you
can do.." he said as Cap sat painfully down 
next to Marco's head to monitor him. 

DeSoto grabbed the 02 apparatus and 
handed it over to Stoker, who was 
listening to a tentative recaptured air 
exchange on Miss Thorne. "How's she 
doing?" he asked Mike.

"Got her partially back. She's breathing one
out of three." he said, snatching for
the demand valve. He began to use
it full flow, letting her pull air when she
could but assisting and taking over 
when she lapsed.
"I got lucky. She never lost a pulse." 
Then he tossed a head back behind him. 
"You'd better get over there, buddy. 
Chet and Vince are having problems 
digging Gage out."

"Is he conscious?"

"Don't know.." Mike answered.
"Sort of had my hands full here."

"I'm going over there. She'll maintain 
all right. Here's more info on them."
Roy dragged Marco's stokes near
enough to the O2 so he could
string a mask from the other port
for Lopez. "Marco's really out. Breathing
shallow. And he's febrile for some
reason. Keep an eye on Cap, too. 
Possible head injury.." he said 
setting a ten liter flow for Marco
through a non rebreather. 

Mike nodded. "Ok. Got it. Roy, I think 
the woman's problem is just the 
gas exposure. Nothing fell on either
one of us at all.."

"Noted. I'll contact Rampart as
soon as we know about Johnny, too.."
Roy said. He grabbed the shovel
he and Cap brought and ran around 
the antique engine towards where
he could hear Bonnie barking.

On the way, he met the four tour 
students they all had gotten out of 
the station. "It's all right kids. Your 
teacher's not dead. We're just helping 
her on some oxygen. Your friends are
safe, too, out in front. Just wait here where 
it's safe in the open. Don't go anywhere, 
all right?"

Four heads nodded. The kids were
shivering where they were clinging 
together seated on the ground, 
mousy with emotional shock. But 
Roy didn't see any critical problems
on them so he left them alone in 
Mike's line of sight.

He ran faster until he got to where
Bonnie was letting the dirt fly high. 

Chet and Vince were in high gear too, 
still trying to dig next to a frantic Bonnie. 
Vince was beginning to get desperate,
using his helmet.

Roy dropped down onto the brick
pile and laid to with his spade fighting
down unbidden fears. 
"Heard anything?"

"Not a peep." Chet said just as anxious. 
"There's NO way we can get to him, man. 
There must be half a ton of bricks here. 
This is where the hose tower was.."

"Just keep digging. There's gotta be
an airpocket or something under there."
Vince said.

"We hope.." Chet said.
 
Kelly's shortness made Roy try to
ease his doubts even as his own grew worse.
"Part of the stack was reinforced concrete
and wire. That wouldn't collapse flat."
Roy said. ::Johnny. Hang in there.::

For several tense moments, there was
just the "chuck" of helmet and shovel
and bare hands, biting into soil and rubble.

Then Kelly said, "Hold it! Hold it! Look!"

Bonnie had moved to a different area
of the debris pile and was cocking her
head at a sound just beneath her.
She began to dig madly and the pitch of
her barking changed to one of excited discovery.

There was a small cave beneath
her and in her eagerness, she dashed inside of
it.

"Bonnie. No!!" Kelly warned.
 
But the tiny Yorkie's tail reemerged 
unscathed, and soon, came the rest of her. 
When her head followed out of the hole, 
Gage's dusty sock and foot were 
tightly in her mouth.  

"Johnny!!?" Chet yelled, and he shoved
Bonnie aside to bury his head into the
hole up to the shoulders with both hands,
reaching deep. "He's alive.. I can see 
him." came his muffled report. 
"His arms and shoulders are pinned pretty 
good in here. I think a small chamb--"

There was another cave in and a plume
of dust hissed out of the fissure and
Kelly let out a startled yell.

Vince grabbed onto his belt in a tackle
to keep Kelly from slipping under the
ground even further. His efforts proved
just how unstable the regolith in
their area was.

Another collapse came, this one bigger
and heavier. Suddenly, both Johnny and Chet  
started to thrash in panic as their airspace
suddenly filled up in choking dirt and brick.

Vince hauled Kelly out by his pants, with every
sinew of strength, until inch by inch,
the curly haired fireman was pulled free.. 

Chet gasped and choked on chalky grit
that had blown into his nose and mouth.
"Get him out of there!! *cough* The 
whole roof caved in.*cough. cough*"

Roy started to dig underneath where
Johnny's leg was writhing as quickly
as he dared.  

It was Bonnie who found Gage's other pinned
leg, twisted above the first just before
his struggles began to weaken. 

Vince and Roy abandoned helmet and 
shovel and quickly each hauled on a leg 
full weight backwards, sliding awkwardly 
on the slippery brick pieces.

"Come on. Let go.." Vince grunted to
the earth. "He can't breathe.."

Johnny's limp head dragged clear at last and
thunked over a few boulders when all
three of them fell on their butts. 

"Johnny. Can you hear me?" Roy
shouted. He crawled to Johnny's head,
accidently jarring him in his haste to get an
answer.. Gage's mouth gaped open. 

A rock was inside blocking off his throat.
Roy hooked it free with a couple of 
fingers.. "Johnny? Hey.... It's gone..
Come on spit it out." he said, slapping
his partner's face, lightly.

The sudden sting to the skin on his rock
rubbed raw face, drove Johnny to full 
wakefulness and he flopped over 
onto his side, coughing wetly. 

He threw up a lot of dirt and mucous 
until he gasped in; the first solid breath 
of air he had taken since he'd been buried.  
"*Hack* Whaa? Roy?....*gasp* Oh man...
I thought.. I wasn't ever ........gonna make 
it......out of t-there.. "

Roy dropped his head in relief..
"So did we... Just keep breathing
regular. You're still blue.."

Gage added more as his head cleared.
"Thanks for trying to shield me, Chet. Almost worked."
and he sagged onto the ground in exhaustion, 
grateful to be seeing daylight and moving air.
Then hypoxia nausea rose up 
and he got sick again. ::Mud this time. 
Better from my stomach than from a lung 
or two..:: 

"Got it all out?" Roy asked, still hanging
onto him when he was through. 

Johnny nodded, without opening his
eyes. "Yeah.. I think so."

"Believe it or not, you're completely pink
now after all that.."

"I feel green.."

"Just lie still for a sec. Hurt anywhere
else besides your hand?" Roy asked.

"My hand?" Johnny said, picking his head
up and peering down. A bent rod was
embedded through the bones in his
left palm and was sticking out the back of it.

"Aw Roy, why did you tell him about that? 
Now he's gonna freak out.." Chet said.

"Oh, man.." Gage said, ignoring both of
them. He curled around himself as his 
eyes seemed to reconnect his nerves 
centers into a core of agony through 
his impaled hand. "Royyyy?... this just 
isn't my day...ah,  h*ll.." he grimaced.

Chet was still coming down from Johnny's
close call. "Not everyday a full moon earthquake
scores a direct bullseye on Johnny Gage..That's
for d*mned sure. " And he laughed. He stopped
immediately when Gage caught his breath,
around another spasm.."Oooo. Come on. It's time
to get up Gage. If we let you think about it too
long, you're going to have to be carried out of 
here." he said gently.. "l'll tape that immobile 
after we get ya over to the biophone."

Gage let the three of them sit him up and
then with a groan, he let the burly Vince lift 
him bodily to a very shaky pair of feet.
Bonnie nearly leaped somersaults when 
she saw her favorite fireman finally 
standing vertical. 

She barked happily, frisking in the dust, 
until she saw the huddle of frightened kids
by the old engine. She dashed off to
be with them in a cloud of dirt.. 

Very soon, the kids snapped out of 
their dazed stares to timidly reach 
out to pet her dirty back.

"Would you look at that.. Bonnie
works better than smelling salts." 
Gage grinned, halting them all.

"You owe her a ton of bacon, my friend.
She's the one who found you, Johnny.." 
Kelly commented.

"Well I'll be.."

"Come on Captain Hook, let's get you
cleaned up. If we don't hurry, you just
might have to stay this way...." Roy
quipped, glancing down at Johnny's 
speared hand.  

"Oh ha. Aren't you funny.." Gage replied
sarcastically. He shifted his weight as Roy
moved his good arm over a shoulder.
Then he paled, when he saw what was 
dripping on his shoes. "What makes you
think I wanna work after this?"

DeSoto went on with his interrupted 
sentence.. "We've got three injured
patients to attend to, not counting 
you. Don't worry, I'll let you black 
out if I have to, just as soon as 
another squad gets here to relieve
you.." 
Roy nodded for Chet to start applying 
pressure to Johnny's brachial artery 
when the wound around the rod started 
to spurt as Gage's blood pressure rallied with
his mental clarity.

"You're all heart.." Johnny grinned weakly.

As soon as they all got over to the others,
Johnny promptly forgot his hand. 
"Chet, let go of me.. Just put a tourniquet 
on this. If I have to work, I'll do it verbally,
You can at least get vitals sets.. 
Roy, what do we got? 
Looks like Miss Thorne's the worst of them.." 
he said, reaching over with his good hand to 
get the band Chet needed to stop his
hemorrhaging. Gage grabbed it out of one of the 
gear boxes Mike had flicked open for 
him, between one of his positive pressure valve
ventilations he was delivering to the 
stilled teacher.

Roy said, "Natural gas inhalation. On
her and Marco both. He's breathing
ok, but she's partially unresponsive.
Marco's also got an unexplained 
elevated temp. Cap found it assessing
him. Cap's got a slight concussion
I think. He was out for a while. I haven't
gotten a look at his pupils yet.."

"Chet you go handle that while Roy calls us in."
Gage snapped. "Stop fussing with me."

"Right. Almost got this secure.." Chet
said, giving one last yank on the tourniquet
around Johnny's upper arm. 
"There.." he smiled, biting a lip. "Going numb?"

"Not fast enough..." Gage peeped in pain.

"Good. You're set. " His eyes flickered 
downward.. "Give me that.." and
he pulled out Johnny's penlight from
his pocket to look at Cap. 
"Walk me through the neural, Johnny. 
I've only seen you guys do this a few 
times.." he said seriously, then he 
beamed, full charm, smiling at Cap 
as he knelt by him.  "Hiya Cap. Great to see 
you winking those peepers at me.
Thought you were dead for a sec
in there. .." he leaned in with
his light.. "This won't hurt a bit.."

Johnny began instructing Chet by rote
what things to look for. Soon, he had the 
info needed to share with Roy when he 
was ready on his end.

DeSoto threw an eye on Miss Thorne
to count the actual times she tried to
breathe around Stoker's vents and he
shivered in utter weariness. 
The initial adrenaline he always got in a crisis,
was leaving him, letting him feel every bump
and ache the earthquake had imparted to him.
::But.....It sure feels great knowing no 
one died. It could have been worse...::

He coughed once to clear out the acrid
dust in his throat. Then he started writing 
in his note pad the findings in prep for
a medical base station hail.

Trussed up and no longer bleeding like a stuck
pig, Johnny checked the psi on the regulator
of outgoing 02 on the apparatus 
feeding Marco and the teacher's masks.
::Plenty of oxygen left here.:: he thought
with satisfaction. 
He even nodded with approval when Chet
was simply perfect getting an accurate 
BP off Marco where he lay in the stokes. 
::94/60. Not too shocky..:: Gage thought 
after Chet had told him what it was.

A minute later they all heard a chorus 
of sirens as the first of the responding 
stations rolled up to their scene. It looked
strange seeing firetrucks actually rolling 
TO a firehouse, with all their reds flashing. 

Cap got on his walkie talkie as soon
as he bird eyed the number on 
the pumper's door. "Engine 51 to 
Station Eight. We've got four victims 
in the yard. B-- -uh,...Bring three s-stokes.."

The fast reply from Eight's Captain 
Stone made it clear that they knew who
at least one of those stokes was for.
##Hank? Hang on. We're coming. Looks
clear along your south exposure. Man
what a mess. Hope you aren't bad 
yourself..##

"I'm fair.." Cap replied. "Watch it
in there. Gas leak in the kitchen.
And don't tell me any details about
the engine or the squad. I simply don't 
wanna know..We just pulled one of 
them back from the brink only this 
morning..!" he wailed.

Nearby, Roy grinned and mentally 
downgraded Cap's medical status a 
few notches after overhearing his joking 
remark.. 

He brought the black phone receiver to 
his ear and plugged in the red comm 
box's aerial antennae.

##Rampart this is Squad 51, How do you
read?##

---------------------------

Photo : Chet Kelly sneering in jest.

Gif : A resuscitator in a green case with the PPV
       connected up.
 
Photo:  A screengrab from Snakebite with Johnny
            on top of the engine, Chet and Marco nearby.

*******************************
From:  "Cassidy Meyers" <killashandraRey@hotmail.com> 
Date:  Fri Oct 25, 2002  7:58 pm
Subject:  Hard Run..

Special acknowledgements to Story Consult-- 
Justafan1701-  on LACoFD Telecommunications
and earthquake seismology. 
 

Mike looked down as Cindy Thorne started
actively coughing under the resuscitator.
He lifted it free to make sure she wasn't
getting ill. "Easy.." he said as she began
to struggle as some consciousness returned.
He sighed in relief when he saw that she 
wasn't sick at all.
"Miss Thorne. Keep this over your face.
It's just an oxygen mask. You took in
some gas in there from the stove but 
you're going to be fine."

"Oh,hhh... Robbie? Rachael?....I
can't see any of them.!" she said, gasping,
knocking Mike's hands away.

Cap near them turned from Marco.
"Cindy! No.." he shouted and they both
grabbed her head and shoulders when 
she suddenly sat up. Immediate dizziness 
almost made her pass out again. 
"Stoker, she's probably just worried about
the kids. Hang on there a sec, pal."

Cap took her face into his hands,
cradling her cheeks, until he made
full eye contact. "Cindy? It's all right. 
They're all out.. You are, too. Now 
just lie back down and let us make 
sure that you're ok. Help's already 
here from another engine company 
and we'll be outta here just as soon 
as we can. But first, you gotta take 
in some more O2. It'll help clear your 
head. And it will make you feel a h*ll of
a lot better.  All right?"

Cindy coughed, trying to focus on
Mike and Cap blearily, but finally, 
she let them lower her back down 
to the ground when their calm reasoning 
finally registered in her brain.
Then she noticed Marco, "Oh, is
he ok? He's hurt!..." she gasped,
blinking in distress.

"He's fine. His story's the same as
yours." Mike said to her. "He's just
decided to nap a bit longer than you.." 

Cap shot eyes at Stoker and he
nodded in agreement for her benefit. 
"Now, just keeping breathing
this in. " Hank said, setting the O2
back over her face.."That's it.. Nice 
and easy. Stoker's gonna stay with 
you for a while here until you get
your equilibrium back."

"But.." she said weakily, muffled through
the mask as she tried to get used to
it being there.

"Don't worry about your students.
There's a police officer here who'll 
watch the children for you.."
he looked up.. "Annddd...right now,
it looks like most of them are playing 
tag with our station dog..They're just fine,
really." Cap said matter of factly with a 
huge grin, brushing hair and debris out 
of her face.

Cindy Thorne closed her eyes
when her shock suddenly overtook
her mental will. "Oh, ..I've
got to..reach their..paren--.."

"We'll do that soon. Just rest for
a bit. I'm sure tha--" Mike broke off
his comment when she blacked out. 
He moved a hand to her carotid as 
she went limp. Cap eyed him but 
he waggled his head. "She's all right. 
Still moving air on her own. There's 
resistance here." he said, checking 
with a test vent on the mask into 
her lungs. "Got a pulse rate about 100.
I'll get an actual draw count for DeSoto
when he's set.."

Cap sat back down onto his
rump, letting his weariness show
in his face again. He gingerly felt
the back of his head and it came
away bloodied. "Good. Keep on
her, Stoker.. I'll get back to Lopez."

Roy was only half aware of the teacher's
brief episode of awakening. He was
concentrating on listening close
to the biophone. "Rampart this is 
rescue 5-1. Do you copy?"

** Static  **

Roy changed channels on the biophone,
to the little used all call band, redirecting 
his comm transmission to HQ LA. "L.A., this is
squad 51, is our channel clear to Rampart? 
We can't seem to raise them."

** Static **

Johnny looked up from watching Chet
immobilize the rod running through his
hand, trying not to wince. "Think the
repeaters are out?" he asked Roy.

"Maybe.." DeSoto said. "L.A. must be
scrambling to get an all stations check 
and haven't found out that our 
district's radio relay is down."

"He got through before.. I heard
him when the kids and I were
still ducking down in the engine cab."
Chet said.

"That was landline, Chet." John said.
"We were in the stationhouse."

"I know. Things can change quickly following an
earthquake.." Kelly said. "But, you know how
good those guys are about reestablishing a comm
net once a problem is detected."

"Well, Miss Thorne and Marco can't wait." 
Roy said. He lifted his HT. 
"L.A., this is Squad 51."

##Go ahead, 51..##

"Our radio telemetry seems to be 
out on our biophone. Is there anyway
you can relay to Rampart General
Hospital for us? We've four victims
that need a doctor's attention right
away.."

There was a longer than average pause.
Even Cap looked up at the delay.

##Squad 51.  All channels have been
utilized for emergency broadcast
communication only. Disaster protocol
is in place. Suggest using a landline to
Rampart. If the telephone line to the 
station house has been effected, payphones 
are showing as still in service in your area. ##

"Payphones?" Gage said incredulously.

Cap piped up.. "Yeah. Payphones. They've got
underground cabling. The same dirt which
knocked out the repeaters alignment must have
cushioned the payphone network. Makes sense.
DeSoto, free up off the biophone. Let the man
work. We'll try his suggestion first.."

Roy shrugged, uncertain and embarrassed he
even bothered L.A., who was now set in a higher priority
moding. "10-4, L.A. We copy. We'll 10-8 to a landline."

#Squad 51..# the head dispatch acknowledged.

"Cap, why didn't you tell me not to biocall?"

"Quite frankly, Roy, I'm not up on earthquake
scenarios past the basics. I was in the dark just
as much as you were. First time I've ever been
in one." Hank shrugged.

"First time for me, too.." came the
voice of Captain Stone, from very near by.
He waved his men over with the requested 
stokes and they clustered around the group in 
Station 51's shattered backyard. "So, far, we've
all been using HT's. But only between units.
I found out from McConnike about the landline
trick for our rescue squad."

"Who's here?" Gage piped up.

"Gil and Brice...They're getting the 02
and their gear. We figured you boys
wouldn't have had much equipment left
after that.." Stone replied throwing a thumb
over his shoulder at the rubble between 
the bunkhouse and kitchen ends of station 51.
"Cap. We've been inside. The gas is off and
we're already opening holes to ventilate. All the
fumes are gone. And believe it or not. Your 
kitchen phone is working. Gil's already got 
Rampart on the line for you.
Switch to our station's frequency on your
handheld to get him. He's set to relay."

Roy spoke up, "Thanks, Captain Stone. But I think
I should field that call personally. I've got 
all our patient info up here.." and he 
pointed to his head. "One to one, that way,
with the doctor would be faster."

"Fair enough.  I'll send Gil out here to assist
Brice on treatment." Stone shrugged.

They all turned when some of Engine 8's
crew dropped down the rest of the rear
door from the mangled garage using a
short K-12 application, offering easy 
access back into the shattered heart
of Station 51.

"Oh, man.." Cap groaned. "I didn't want to
see that.." he said as a falling rafter kicked loose
from a wind gust, and smashed into the main 
dome light on top of the Ward's cab, pulverizing it.

Vince piped up to Stone's men. 
"Ok, let's get these kids out of
here. They're students from Grover
Middleland school. That's their
teacher lying over there. Move out. 
I've got additional squad cars here so
we can evac all of them."

Firemen moved to escort the frightened
children away from the scene.

Roy rose to his feet. "Johnny. Hey.
I've got to go back inside. Take it
easy now. And try to get along with Brice,
huh? He's going to be senior assessor
here, even over you, all right?"

He jogged, gripping his handy talkie,
and ran by Brice, who was 
coming, helmeted, with gear.

"I know that. I'll be a professional!"
Johnny shouted after his partner.
He winced when the effort shot a bolt
of pain through his hand.

"That's professional patient, Gage.
The moment Squad 8 got on scene,
they bumped you out of service, man.."
Chet said.

"Don't rub it in, Chet." Johnny spat.

His anger was tempered when Bonnie,
suddenly free of her children charges,
came running up. She reared up, planting
kisses of worry and affection onto his chin.

Johnny smiled in spite of himself.

Brice rushed by Roy without even looking
fully at him.. "The woman?"

Roy said, running in the opposite direction.
"Still breathing.. Marco's gas inhalation too!"
he shouted after him. Roy wheeled, reluctant
to leave the yard, until Cap re-enforced his
departure to the kitchen phone with an
arched eyebrow..

Captain Stone was on DeSoto's heels
to make sure that flashlights were 
delivered to the dark kitchen for Roy's
note dictation via landline.

He sent more men arriving from the responding
units to the surrounding area to cruise for trouble
spots beyond Station 51's scene. As an after thought,
he got his engineer to pull up 51's squad and the LaFrance
out of the garage once the worst of the roofing debris
had been pulled off of them.  Stone huffed
a breath on his sleeve and polished the door handle
of the engine when he saw Hank watching him
once the two trucks were free of the garage rubble.

Cap chuckled when he saw that little move and
lifted his HT. "Needs a lot more than a wax job,
Ben.. Appreciate it, though."

Stone added, ##I'll have my crew check em out.
Neither of them are leaking fuel.. I got a fanning
hose wash on them just in case.##

"Take good care of my boys and my station.."
Cap sighed, and he let Stone's men move him
to a stokes for a lie down and soon, he was
fitted with an O2 cannula and his turnout
was removed. Hank's HT, however, stayed 
fast in his grip by his head, where he 
could hear everything, even as he let go
physically and mentally. He felt a man move
closer to monitor him as he closed his eyes.

"Night, Cap.." Gage said, lying in his own
stokes. "Don't doze too deep with that
headcrack of yours."

"I won't. Just don't gore Brice with that
hand pike of yours."

"Deal."


Moments later, Brice finished crossing the yard and
he knelt by Cindy Thorne first for a new vitals set.

He looked up to see Bonnie still bathing Johnny's chin
with kisses and Gage being too out of it to push
her away. "Getting mouth to mouth from a dog, 
Gage? Must be protocol I haven't yet heard about."

"Very funny. This dog saved my life, I'm not about
to tick her off by complaining.." he said, lifting
Bonnie into the stokes where she
promptly laid down in between his legs, setting
a worried muzzle and front paws onto his 
stomach, still softly whining with stress.

Brice curbed his banter. "What have we got here
Gage? Roy didn't tell me much.."

"Stoker revived the woman. No trauma. 
Cap's got a blow to the back of his head.
Pupils equal and reactive. Marco's out,
febrile after LOC. BP, 94/60, Resp 12,
shallow. Pulse 92. Me, I, uh.. Almost
choked in a cave-in. Puked out a lot of 
ingested mud. Chest seems clear. And 
I got this little little..problem--mm ." he 
said lifting his stabbed hand.

The sight of the rod made Brice pause and
he sank his glasses lower on his nose to
get a closer look at it from where he
was listening to Cindy's breath sounds
through a stethoscope. 

Brice asked Chet, "Blood loss.." he said.
snapping his fingers, about Gage.

"Oh, uh, Gage lost about 600 CC before
I got that tourniquet in plac--"

"Get him on a cannula, Kelly. 4-6 liters O2.
 Use our unit. Elevate his legs.
Then position your captain with his head 
raised. I'll be right with you, Gage.
Almost through assessing this woman." 
Brice said.

But Johnny didn't answer.

Gil arrived from the rubble and
took Brice's pointing hint to check Johnny's
consciousness level as Chet followed
his medical orders to a T.

The two Station 8 medics got to work..


---------------
 
Inside the dark and silent kitchen,
Roy's face was illuminated by flashlight
and he took the phone from the
Station 8 paramedic waiting for him
there. "Thanks Gil. I'm trading places
with ya.."

"Sure thing. It's Brackett on the line."
And Gil ran off to the yard.

Roy set his HT on the phone top
and nodded to the fireman with the 
flashlight to go about his business,
grabbing the torch from his gloves
as he set the kitchen phone receiver
to his face. Roy shifted the light under 
one arm so he could see his notepad. 
"Rampart, this is Squad 51. How do you 
read?"

As he waited for a return, Roy had his 
first real, thinking look at the devastation 
that the quake had brought to his station.
 
He watched as a frightened 
sparrow arrowed through the airspace
where the garage roof had been. 

::Will we be able to get over all of this?::
came the thought, unbidden.

A familiar voice broke Roy out of his
fear. ##This is Rampart. Go ahead, 51. 
You're reading loud and clear..##

Roy sighed and almost sobbed when 
Kel's steady confident baritone met
his ear. "Doctor Brackett. We've uh,
four victims at our location. The earthquake
has pretty much destroyed the stationhouse
here. Trauma is apparent. 
Three of my victims are... are  Code I. 
  Victim one.
A female approximate age, twenty two. 
Found apneic from natural gas inhalation. 
Now breathing on her own on one 
hundred percent 02. 
  Victim two.
Unconscious. Moderate gas inhalation
and etiology of unknown fever on ten 
liters O2.
  Victim three. 
Cave-in. Obstructed airway now relieved. 
Ingested mud. Foreign body impalement 
of the left hand. Arterial bleeding is under 
control. 
  Victim four. 
Possible head injury with history of blackout, 
awake and oriented. Pupils equal and reactive."

##10-4, 51.## came Kel's voice. Roy
could hear the man's concern seeping through
his doctor mode even through his short
reply back. #Can you give me full 
vitals for Victim one?#

"R-right. doc.. uh. ..s-she's.." and his
voice caught; the sudden realization of what
had happened finally sinking in. "Well, she's like 
I said and..and..  I- I'm sorry doc..
I can't--"

At the base station, Dixie and Kel's faces
fell out of their professional shells at
the sound of pain in his voice. Brackett
was stunned, hearing his best medic
fall apart on the job. He felt Dix
tap him sharply on the arm and looked
up to see her give him a do something look.

##Hang in there Roy, I'm with you. 
Gil tells me that you've got a full response
already on scene so you've got plenty of
help right there. Roy, you're not alone..
Dix is right here, too. We'll get your friends
taken care of as fast as we possibly
can here by working together. So don't 
worry. All you have to do is give me one 
detail at a time. Focus on that and 
we'll get through this difficult rescue
just like we do all the others.##
Dr. Brackett heard only badly concealed
muffled sobs on the other end of the line.  
##Roy,  I guarantee it. It's just always
harder when things hit close to home like
this.##

Roy felt unbidden tears begin to run 
down his face but he didn't say anything
and he sniffled wetly, the weight of the 
phone call, reporting catastrophe,
wearing on him.

##Now go ahead on the woman's vitals..##
He heard Kel order.

Roy cleared his throat and spoke....

--------------------------

Photo:  A crushed fire engine.

Photo : Dr. Brackett, looking down on us.

Photo: Brice, smiling in a firehouse kitchen.

Photo : Roy, wearing a stethoscope outside.

Photo : An aerial view over Station 51, showing
            the block as totally levelled. Collapses            
            everywhere.

*******************************
From:  "Cory Anda" <andacory@hotmail.com> 
Date:  Sat Oct 26, 2002  2:14 am
Subject:  Big Time Complication


"Hang on, we're HT to the outside here.
Relaying direct to station 8's paramedics. 
Please stand by. Vitals to follow." Roy said.

##Standing by..##

----------------------------

Five minutes later, DeSoto had his initial 
medical orders relayed to the yard to 
Gil and Brice over his hand held.

Dr. Brackett asked Roy one more question.
##What's your ETA on an ambulance ?##

"We don't know that yet, doc. Depends on
how badly the roads in our area are damaged." 
Roy said.

##10-4, 51. Get them here any way you can.
When you can. ##

"Yep.." Roy said, impatient. "Just wish I
could."

Kel added. ##I'll be frank with you, Roy. 
Gage, we can turn around, same with 
your captain and the school teacher. 
It's Marco I'm worried about. I don't like
the fact that his vitals are sinking like this 
and the fact we can't figure out his LOC
or snap him out of it with epinephrine. Or
that sudden onset of fever.. And
another thing, that odd bloody patching Gil
found in his throat's d*mned pec--
Hang on Roy, Joe's telling me something.##
There was a pause and Roy could hear
the two doctors confirming a new 
development. Brackett came back online. 
##Roy, we've got word there's a battalion 
triage station setting up near you. 
Joe's just heard about it from squad 99. 
They're treating victims there, just down the 
block from your 10-20. Perhaps you can 
move out to their location as an alternate 
to transporting here if the roads prove 
to be impassable. Wait a minute, on 
second thought, I want you to utilize 
them instead of us here at Rampart, 
understood? I'm getting orders now 
from FEMA for some of us to be flown in, 
over the alert scanner..## Dr. Brackett said. 

More warbles came that Roy couldn't quite 
make out. Then an exclamation.. 

##Beautiful! That solved our problem, 
Roy. Just got my own orders to 
report out to your own area within the next 
fifteen minutes. I'll rendevous with you 
myself to see your victims. Count on me 
muscling in to be their attending MD.##  

"Appreciate it, doc.. listen, off the 
record. Just how bad is it out there?"

##My guess is extremely localized for 
the most part. All the runs coming in 
that are quake related are in the same one
mile square area. No major fires, but my 
casualty reports are still sketchy.##

A ruckus outside the kitchen caught Roy's
attention; police clashing with media types.

Roy's forehead furrowed as he gripped
the phone tighter. "Listen doc. I know
you're busy.. Could you do me a favor? Could 
you have Dixie call our families to let them 
know we're all right. No doubt they're pretty
panicked watching us on their television sets,
I see a camera crew out there right now,
bumping heads with the PD."

##Will do, Roy. Contact base again if there
are further developments. See you soon.##

"10-4. Squad 51, out."

Roy hung up the phone, and walked the
few feet to the plaster powdered kitchen
table in weariness. He wiped the sweat off his
blood caked face with a dusty towel he 
found there and slowly began recapturing his wits, 
leaning against it, until a sensation of heat 
against his back made him jump off its edge.  

It was a coffee pot, still warm and steaming 
from where Johnny had left it before the quake. 
Roy stared at its unreal normalcy, smelled its 
perfumey steam curls, delicately wafting in his 
flashlight's beam, until a shout from the 
yard caused him to hightail it back 
outside as fast as he could..

"What do you mean it's my fault he's
shocky?! I couldn't have started O2 on
him any sooner because both lines
were on Marco and the girl, who needed
the help more at the time, Brice, so back 
off ! If Gage were awake, I'm sure he'd
be agreeing with me wholeheartedly!" 

Roy got himself between Kelly and Brice.
"Hey hey hey.. Hush down! Just what's
the matter with you two? We've got
nosy press types already in the driveway.
This is no time to let personality clashes
come to a boil where they might overhear it.." 
he said. 

All the while he spoke, Roy was watching 
Gil, who was keeping well out of it. He didn't miss
Gil speeding up an IV of Ringers Lactate on Marco,
nor his slipping in an oral airway on him. 

Roy's practiced eye also saw that Cindy's
atropine, to boost her respirations, had 
already been administered from the sight of
the yellow pop caps on the ground.
    Mike was now absent.
::Stoker must have gone on to damage patrol.
Cindy's only on a light nonrebreather. At least, 
she's doing better.:: He got an OK gesture
from Gil about her, pantomimed.

 Another part of his mind dealt with putting
his two coworkers sharply into line.
"Keep it down to a quiet roar if you two 
have to argue. Or better yet, let's all 
just do our jobs here, as a team.." he 
lectured. "We'll take a vote on who was 
right over a poker game once our butts are 
safe and sound on solid ground next week,
all right..?!"

Chet and Brice both studied the ground,
then both looked sheepishly around to make
sure that neither Stone, nor any of his men had
overheard their petty bickering.

"That's better.." Roy said, glaring at Brice
and Chet, as he began crouching by 
Marco to look at his pupils. "Now here's 
the scoop. Brackett's on his way here. 
It's looking more and more that the roads 
might be out in our vicinity for there's 
a helicopter triage station area just down 
the boulevard. It's already up and running. 
So let's get our victims out of here and 
where we'll be able to do them the most
good all right?"

For two minutes, the four of them mobilized
and packed up all of their equipment and 
supplies.

Just then, Captain Stone returned to the yard. 
He was oblivious to the tension just evaporating.
"Ok, everybody.We're moving out. There's a triage-"

Roy cut in. "Uh, yes sir. Captain. We got word
from Brackett about it. We're set.. We're
ready to move when you are. Everyone
is stabilized and supported on O2."

"Fast work.. All right. Let's do it.." he
gestured to his men who ran out of
the station house following a very 
hasty cleanup and damage check.

The runaway hydrant had long since 
been emergency capped.

 "But there's been a further change. We're 
opening your bunk house to these triage 
victims of yours and any others who
are waiting turns to be flown out of the  
disaster area.  Only the garage bay
was unstable boys, the rest of the 
station checks out. 
You may be running a triage base station 
for this block from right here.."

"Understood, Cap.." Brice said. 
"I'll move our gear into there."

Stone looked down at Captain Stanley,
who was mumbling to himself in his
half sleep, giving random orders based
on what he was hearing in his ear through
the talkie. "Is he ok?  Saw him go out
a few minutes ago."

"He's on just a precautionary I.V., 
and his vitals are fine, Cap." Roy said. 
"He won't be running any operations
but that doesn't mean he won't be 
dreaming about us doing it. He's got 
quite a grip on that hand held. He's 
hanging on every word. Even in his 
sleep." he grinned. "His concussion 
appears to be minor." 

Stone didn't move from his hands on 
hips planted position, so Roy 
volunteered to him a quick a medical 
rundown on all the others too.
"Ok.." Stone said, satisfied. 
"I'll let the triage head know what 
you got.."  

Stone got teams of men to grab the 
four stokes to haul them into
the sleeping quarters of Station 51
and out of the hot California sun.

Already, earthquake dust was making
the air hard to breathe.

------------------------------

The bunk room was surprisingly intact.
Not even dusty. A quick check showed
that they had a viable phone line in there too, 
at the night writing desk. Only the power 
and gas service was knocked out.  And 
Engine 51, itself, proved capable of 
supplying water needed for cleanup 
and first aid.

Bonnie, stuck like glue to Johnny's
stokes, sinking down underneath his
covering blanket, so she wouldn't 
be discovered lurking there. Chet
almost squished her with Johnny's
O2 tank before he remembered.
"Oh, sorry Bonnie. Keep watching him."
he said to the breathing lump,
as he transferred the D tank to 
the floor.

The bunk house outer door was
opened to daylight and portable
lamps were brought in from the triage
station for them to use. IV's were
taped suspended to the wood working
and blankets abounded. Gear from the 
two squads sat in a row on the floor
the length of the room in the aisle.
And more O2 apparatuses from multiple
companies were brought in with another set
of universal HT's and a makeshift 
command center board.

Roy heard a helicopter land nearby,
its wash sending eerie prop echoes through
the shattered roof in the bay next room over,
and he fervently hoped it was Brackett's.

Cap and Johnny's stokes were set off
the floor between chairs instead of using
valuable bedspace, but Marco had been
placed on a long board on a bed in prep for
a priority move. He was first on the 
list to go. 

DeSoto set a defibrillator next
to Marco with nervousness. He
was the only one in the room so
far who was at risk for one's use.

Roy got another vitals set on him and 
frowned. He waved Brice over..
"He's worse. Rales now, in the lungs.
And his fever's up. Help me get a temp
on him.."

"That fast? I don't understand what
the problem might be. Gage said all he
did was take in a little gas.." Brice said
checking the placement of the mask
over Marco's oral airway.

"We were in a big fire two days ago,
and before that, he had a bad cold. We've
been busting our butts fussing over him
to see a doctor ever since."

"Did he go?"

"Do pigs fly?" 

"Oh. I see. White coat anxiety syndrome."

"Actually. No. " Roy grinned. "Marco's just
a busy man. He has an aging mother
he's been caring for and lately it's been
taking up a lot of his time. "

"To the point of letting himself be sick
for days?"

"Guess so. Marco's like that. Always doing
for others over himself. He tells me that's
why he's a fireman. " he smiled. But
that smile faded. "He told us over dinner
on Sunday that the two of them just got back 
from Mexico City, after burying a cousin.
A boy I think, who had died suddenly. 
Help me here.."

Soon, Brice and Roy got a temp off 
Marco internally. Roy held it up to
the lamplight. "A hundred three?
Brice, this has got to be an infection.
I don't like it. And that gas inhalation's
just getting Marco into hot water.."

"It definitely brought out this illness
to the foreground.." Brice agreed.

Gil had been nearby, checking on
Gage and Cap and the teacher.
"Well, we'd better get him into some
cold water before his central nervous
system crashes out. His breathing response
is too level and slow as it is.." Gil said.
"Want me to patch him?"

"Yes, his systolic is seventy eight and weak."

Roy opened Marco's shirt and sheared
his T shirt in two out of the way. Brice 
got out the defib paddles, holding them
in the air above the bed. "Wait. Here. This 
is faster.." and he placed them
onto Marco's ribcage and manually
scoped him. 

All three medics looked at the tiny defibrillator
screen. It was showing tachycardia, deep. 

"Look at that.." Brice exclaimed.

"It's the fever..and partly the gas.."
Roy said. "No PVC's though. He's sure holding
well. That rate's just about 140. "

"That's the epi Brackett ordered."
Brice said. "It quickens but it strengthens
too."

"I'll get a strip off the portable monitor after
I get him patched in.." Gil said. "The doc
is going to want to see this.."

"No doubt." Brice tossed away the paddles,
leaving the unit between Marco's knees.
"I'm going to go grab some ice from
your frig. You do have some in there?"

"Yeah.." Roy said. "Two bags."

Brice left to get it.

Roy and Gil got cloth sheets wet and stuffed
them inside the plastic one they had used to 
bundle him onto the longboard. Cold
water from the station's engine was 
used and liberally pooled, soaking the bedsheets 
inside the localized cold pack. Brice's ice was 
added to the bath around Marco's torso.

"He's really out.. I'm not even seeing skin bumps 
from us chilling him like this.." Roy said,
taking another BP. "It's up slightly. Getting
a diastolic now with the systolic. 84/36."

"His color's better too." Gil said, looking
at Marco's gums and nail beds.

Next to them, Gage stirred. Roy shifted on his
knees and got a grip on his stokes. 
"Hey there." he smiled openly relieved. "Caught up 
on your beauty sleep, Johnny? Don't start
stretching now. You're suspended on top
of a couple of chairs. And you've an I.V.
in."

"W-Where are we?"

"The bunks room. It's now a triage station."

"Huh.. Had a weird dream. I dreamed
that Lopez went into.." then he noticed the
defib case open and saw the paddle cables
abandoned on the blankets at Marco's feet. 
"Wait a minute.. Did you guys just work him?"

"No, Gage. Just a scope.." Brice said.
"Now a water bath.."

"Bath?" Johnny asked groggily. "His fever's up?"

"It's one hundred three. And he's showing rales
in both lungs."

"Whoa.. we got to get him outta here." Gage
said. He almost tried to sit but then remembered
Roy's warning about where his stokes was.

Bonnie under his blanket, barked in warning. 

He only half paid attention to her being there.
"What the h*ll is wrong with him? I don't get it."

"Relax Johnny.. Brackett's been called out on scene. 
That helicopter you're hearing might be his.
Or maybe even Marco's already. He's gotta get a doc's 
move order before he goes anywhere." Roy said.

"I know that.. I know that..  Geesh.."
Johnny waved his good hand, shooing Roy
out of the way. "Gil,, hey, could you just ah..
Hey Gil ! Turn that monitor this way.. I wanna
take a look at it.." 

Gil raised both eyebrows from where he was
running a strip off Marco and purposely turned
the view away from Johnny's line of sight.

"Oh, for crying out loud.. I only wanted to-"

"Gage.. You're a patient here. So act like
one and just lie back and relax.." Gil said.,
crossing his arms together from where 
he sat on a stool.

Roy and Brice grinned when Johnny's face
pinked up with anger away from his original
shocky pale shade. "This is my own stationhouse,
my own district, H*ll, Marco's my own crewmate
for Pete's sake! And I'm the resident paramedic."

DeSoto made a wrong answer game show
noise sound effect.  "I'm the only official 
resident one ON duty one.." Roy said.

"Yep. You're on the injured list, Gage, by every
rule in the book.." Brice interjected.

John kept up his quiet litany of complaining.
"..I'm supposed to fuss.. It's my job.."

"Ours now.." Gil piped up.

Gage mumbled, out voted. "Ok ok ok, Got your point.
Now Gil, if you don't level with me, I'm going to skewer
you!" he said, menacing his injured hand. 

"Hey.." Chet said, grabbing Johnny's arm and 
pulling it back down again. "You'll loosen
my bandaging there buddy.. I worked hard immobilizing
that.."  Then he checked his watch and saw that it
was once again time to release Gage's tourniquet
to let in blood flow. He let go the band.

Johnny hissed in pain, glaring at Chet. " Agghh!
Why didn't you do that when I was still unconscious?"
he grimaced, watching a stream of blood well
up inside and soak through his bandages. 

"I did do that. Five times.." Kelly complained. Then
he played heavy eyes on the others.
"Man, I don't know how you guys can get
through your average workday as paramedics. Do
you always get patients who mouth off
as bad as Gage here? Talk about taking some
heat. And I thought just dealing with an actual fire 
was bad. Johnny, stop being ungrateful. This is saving
your hand. Not to mention saving your life.. And guess
who's doing THAT.." He pointed proud thumbs
at himself. "You're going to owe me big time.."

Gage ignored Kelly. "Don't change the subject, Chet.
Gil,...How's Cap?..Are you going to tell me at least that?"

"Stable.."

"The girl?"

"Stable."

"Me?"

"Grumpy.."

"Oh, haha.. And what about Marco?"


The light moment in the room, fled.

Roy spoke up. "We'll all hear about
that once Brackett gets here. I see
him coming. He's in the tan jumpsuit 
and he's brought along the big guns.. 
A huge, orange diagnostic field pack." He 
said, ducking low and peering through the 
open outside door to the boulevard.
He could just see Kel making haste in their
direction. 

Gage spoke up, as he too, could see the 
brown haired doctor coming. "Maybe
that pack's for me. You know, surgical
stuff. This rod's gotta come out of
my hand. The artery's been nicked."

"Don't count on it.. I'm seeing Atlanta
CDC labels all over it.." Roy said.

"What??" Johnny gasped.

----------------------------

Photo : Johnny and Roy looked stunned.

Photo: A defibrillator that lies open.

*animated gif *   A running EKG showing 
                          elevated ST segments
                          on a V-Tach.

Photo: Chet, at night in the bunkhouse.

*************************
From :  "patti keiper" <pattik1@hotmail.com>  
Subject : [EmergencyTheaterLive] Deeper In....  
Date : Sun, 27 Oct 2002 21:12:20 +0000

The shadow got nearer, and Kel came
through the door into the bunk room.
He paused a bit while his eyes got used
to the dim lamps in the space and the
first bed he focused on was Marco's.

Roy stood from Johnny's stokes,
shoving the stethoscope waving
around his neck out of the way when
it snagged on the edge of Gage's
wire bed in his haste to get near Brackett
to give him his report,
"Doc, glad you're here. He's worse.
Much worse. We're trying to cool
him down some."

"Oh? What was his temp?"

"One hundred three, taken R." 

"Good thing for the ice down.."
Dr. Brackett said as he checked
what I.V. was strung and the flow
of O2 running on his patient.

Roy added more, 
"Marco's BP has become low enough 
to warrant that EKG, we've had a strip
going ever since I got a basement 
BP, about five minutes ago...
Glad you ordered that epinephrine
for him earlier. I think that's the only
thing keeping him viable here."

Brackett was studying the EKG
strip Gil had stretched out on a table
top and the live one showing on
the station's heart monitor. "Ok,
I want a twelve lead here from 
this double one. See that arrythmia
in the QRS interval? That's most
likely pathological."

That hushed up everyone. Until
Brice spoke up. "We knew he
was sick. That was apparent on
initial findings."

"Yes, but have you ever seen 
someone with a cold downgrade
so fast?" Kel said.

Roy, Gil and Brice all looked at
each other in alarm.

Roy didn't even have to say anything.
Then he eyed the bag Brackett had
brought with him. "You know something
we don't doctor? I recognize the insignia
on that pack of yours.."

Brackett made sure there were no
civilians in the room near them who would
overhear.  Then his face fell into serious
doctor. "I called the CDC on Marco's
symptoms just before I flew out of
the heliport. I remembered why Lopez's
presentation seemed so familiar to me."

"Doc, don't keep us in suspense here."
Johnny said from his stokes. He
had an elbow propped up behind his
dirty head and had Bonnie on top
of his stomach, calming her fretting
with absent strokes.  He had pulled 
off his nasal cannula so he could 
get it out of his face. 

"Did you know that Marco left the
country recently?"

"Yeah,.." Gil said. "Roy just told us
here that he and his mother were
attending a funeral for a cousin. A
young boy.."

"Well that young boy is the center
of attention right now in Atlanta.
Seems he died of an unknown 
hemorrhagic syndrome that's already
claimed seven in Mexico City.."

"Have they identified it?"

"No, that's why I'm here. There's
every chance that Marco has run 
into the same bug that's killed 
the boy.. His etiology so far,
is following the same lines as
the boy's did before he died." 
Dr. Brackett said, pulling Roy's 
stethoscope off and using it 
around the EKG leads on Marco's 
chest..

Johnny Gage nearly levitated
from where he was lying.
Only the straps holding him
in the stokes, kept him there.
"Are you telling me that Marco's 
got some kind of fast acting lethal
plague?"

"That's exactly why I'm here, Gage.
To either confirm or rule out just 
that scenario. Atlanta CDC's already 
on their way. They should be
here by nightfall." Kel said.


"But we're in the middle of a disaster
zone. We don't have time for a
quarantine situation." Johnny protested.

"Tell that to the bug, Johnny. It was here
days before that earthquake even so 
much as twitched."

Chet blanched. "Wait a minute, wait a
minute.. Does that mean the rest of
us might get sick from this thing?"

Dr. Brackett nodded reluctantly. "It's
a possibility, but the course of the disease
is still in the guessing stages. Seven cases
taking place in another country with a
language barrier in the way puts a
damper on fast information exchange.
We're working on it. Now my job here is
to isolate Marco best I can until we GET
those answers gentleman. And I'm sorry
to say, but this room and station is off
limits to anyone on the outside. Anyone
who's had direct contact with Lopez,
is staying right here."

Roy spoke quickly when Kel placed
a hand on Marco's chest, pressing down
the stethoscope's drum, trying to
hear breath sounds over the noise 
of helicopters landing and taking 
off just outside the station house. 
"Shouldn't we just get him out of 
here to an isolation ward?"

"He's not a flight candidate anymore Roy.
He's got rales in both lungs and they 
sound real wet. And the edema I'm
hearing is rising, right into his trachea. Get
a suctioning device. He's gonna need it.  
Standing orders you three," Brackett
threw an authoritative point towards Gil,
Roy and Brice's directions. "If his respiratory 
rate falls below eight. I want him EOA
intubated."

"Right doc.." Roy said. And he and
Gil hastened to make the changes.

"And slow down his drip to TKO. I
don't want his circulatory system overloaded.
Last thing he needs is to drown in his I.V."

At that, Kelly's face screwed up in worry.
Chet spoke as Dr. Brackett moved to 
a steel bucket filled with water, and watched 
as he reached into his bag and pulled out a pint
of powerful disinfectant and poured it
over his hands. He used the water to
rinse off and a sheet to dry before
moving on to examine Cap and Miss
Thorne. "Shouldn't we all wear gloves
or masks or something?" Chet asked.

"Too late.." Gage said. "Remember when
I got that virus last year? If this germ's
similiar, we've all touched Marco directly
or indirectly already. We've all been
exposed..."

"Yeah, but Brackett hasn't.." Chet said,
nervously.

"That's his choice.." Brice commented and
moved to give Brackett the run down
he needed on the others in stokes in the
room.

Kelly slumped against the bunk wall and
leaned over, trying to absorb the bizarre
news. "Man, can our day get any worse?"

Just then, Bonnie's low moaning turned
into an agonized wailing of warning..

Chet leaped to steady Cap and Johnny's stokes
on the four chairs when an aftershock seized up
out of the ground. It lasted for more than
a few seconds before the dead light
fixtures overhead started to slow their
swaying. 

The master HT came to life on the desk and it was 
Stone who was instantly on. ##Everybody 
all right in there?##

Brice picked up the handy talkie and
said, "At least, quake wise..." he muttered.

##Squad Eight. Would you 10-9 that?##

Brice immediately suppressed his morbid 
sense of humor,  "Uh, 10-4, captain. We're fine.
But uh, we're going to have to cancel that copter 
evac on the sick fireman. The doc says 
he's too unstable for transport. And ....
the rest of us will be staying right here with
him for extenuating circumstances...." he 
said sighing heavily.. "I'm declaring a 
Condition Bio-Yellow, sir.."

## Excuse me, Did I hear that right?
A Biological Hazard alert?##

"That's correct, Cap. Atlanta CDC has
authorized Brackett in here to declare one
if he felt the need. And he has.. At no
time do any of you out there enter
back inside the station for any reason.."

##Ten four, Squad Eight. 
Understood, quarantine protocol laying 
down. I'll mobilize accordingly. Any of my 
men to report to you?##

"That's negative, Cap. Just Gil and 
myself need to..and we're already here."

##10-4, Let me know details when 
you can. Station Eight out.##

A quiet sobbing from behind them caught
their attentions. Dr. Brackett had roused
Cindy from her half state with an aromatic
capsule and had changed her oxygen mask for
a cannula. She was sitting up with her back
against the wall in her stokes.  

Brackett was giving her a glucose injection
into her IV, to help her get over some shakes. 

He had discovered she was a diabetic from her
own account. "What about my kids?" she said.
"Are they gonna get sick, too?" and her face
crinkled in fear.

Kel couldn't answer that so he stayed silent.

Roy looked up from Marco's pulmonary
care and said, "Oh, no. Ma'am. Not at all.
You see, we got them all out before
we even had contact with Fireman Lopez.
They'll be fine.." and he tried to put on
a convincing smile. 

He saw Brackett nodding slowly in agreement
as he put away his syringe into the sharps
container on the floor.
"Feel better?" he asked her.

"Much. I haven't eaten since five.. I-It's been
a busy day..." Miss Thorne said bravely.

Dr. Brackett grinned for show. "That it has.
And it looks like it'll be even busier for a
while. Try to get some rest. I'll have one
of the paramedics stop back in a while to
recheck your blood sugar levels."

She nodded. "I'm sorry. I just didn't remember
to wear my bracelet this morning. It was
just ..I was so excited about bringing the kids here
That I must have forgotten it...." and her composure 
broke again despite her best efforts to shore it up.

Kel wrapped a wool blanket he had found around
her shoulders and snugged her up, brushing
hair out of her eyes and away from the cannula.
"Why don't you just try to relax.. Get some
sleep if you can. If you've family to contact,
we'll do that just as soon as the phone lines
lighten up a bit.."

"A- All right.." she said, gripping his hand.

He had to peel off her fingers to leave.
"It's all right. "he said, placing a grip of his
own over her cool one. "No one is going
to be dying. At least, not in here."

"Yeah.. " Johnny piped up. "That doctor
leaning over ya is the head of Rampart Emergency
Services and he's a d*mned good heart
surgeon too.. No one dies around Dr. 
Brackett when he gets ornery, Miss Thorne..
And right now, all of us paramedics are
duck and covering, just from the sound
of his voice alone.."

She laughed despite herself, and slowly her
eyes closed as she dozed where she was
on the wall.  Brackett switched her I.V. to
one of blood neutral solution and moved
on to Cap's side.

"Captain Stanley..?" Dr. Brackett said as
he took a chair near his raised stokes.
He gave Hank a little shake.

"Hmmm? Oh, hi doc.. What are you
doing here? Is it bad out there?" he
said, suddenly remembering that he
was on oxygen. He began fiddling with 
the cannula when the dryness in his throat 
from the oxygen just begged him to cough.
"Have we backup here yet? The 
damage out in the yard was bad.
There must be tons of people
in trouble out there.."

"Surprisingly, no.. So I've been
sent in here alone to look you guys over."

He saw Cap blearily frowning at the ceiling
when the familiar surroundings confused
him.
 
Dr. Brackett pinned down his deja vu.
"You're in your station bunkhouse, captain.
And there's a helicopter triage center right
outside, for your situation update."

"Does that mean we're getting out of here
soon?"

Dr. Brackett and the others exchanged looks.

Stanley didn't miss the exchange. 
"Hey, fellas, what's the problem here?
Why-- why haven't we been moved out?"

Johnny turned his head from where
he was sitting up next to Cap and sighed.
"It's another virus, Cap. And the originator 
isn't a monkey this time.. It's Marco
himself.."

"What?!" Cap tried to sit up but Dr. 
Brackett restrained him. 

"Hey.. now just lie back. No sudden
moves until I check out that head injury
in a little more detail."

Cap blinked, still trying to gain focus
as Kel looked at his eyes.. "Is he
all right?"

Kel didn't say anything, reluctant to;
until someone else did.

"He's serious, Cap. Blood pressure's in
the basement. And his chest is filling up."
Roy said. "But his EKG still looks fair.."
he tried to smile for Cap's benefit
with that slim good news.

Cap swallowed hard lying completely still
as harsh reality finally sank home.
"How about us? Anyone else sick?"

"Not yet. But all are at risk I'm afraid.." 
Dr. Brackett said. Then he changed the subject. 
"Hank, are you seeing double or any flashes
of light, or anything abnormal? Ringing in the ears,
pain or headache? This is a pretty sizable 
lump I'm feeling on the back of your head."

"No, doc. Nothing odd at all. I feel
basically fine.." he said. "Listen, doc.
Shouldn't you be with Lopez over there?
I'm nowhere near the invalid everyone
insists I'm to be.. . In fact, I should be
getting up to help YOU.." and he tried
to rise.

Brackett stopped him firmly.
"No. Stay. He's been seen, too. 
You're my second to the last stop. 
Gage's surgery to repair that carpal
artery, is next.."

Cap got through the rest of Kel's exam,
showing no remarkable deviations, but he
had trouble hiding a few sobs of frustration 
and helplessness as he tried to get through 
it without making a verbal sound.

Dr. Brackett pretended to tune out
the emotional weakness playing out
on Cap's face. "Think you need the 
O2 some more?" Kel asked him.

"No.. Why don't you save it for somebody
else?" he said distractedly. "My head's clear
now.." Stanley said very quickly..
Then he lifted his HT. "Station Eight this is 
Engine 51."

"Cap, what are you doing?" Chet said, 
looking up from his wrapping more
dressings around Gage's hand.

Cap set his talkie momentarily onto
his stomach and he glared at Kelly 
and said. "Stoker's got a right to 
know about Lopez and what's 
happening in here. It would be wrong
for us to keep him in the dark about
his condition.."

Kel raised inquiring eyes to Roy. 

"Doc, Mike did have close contact with Cindy
over there, and I was near him also
a lot of the time, while we were treating 
her. He might be a quarantine candidate.." 
DeSoto said grimly.

Dr. Brackett replied. "Then Hank's right in
calling him in here.."

"D*mned right I am.. And I'm not liking
it that he's part of this whole nastiness
either.." Cap snapped.

Everyone froze when the HT responded
to Captain Stanley's earlier heads up.

##Go ahead, Station 51. You're up,
Hank? That's great news! I'll be sure 
to tell my whole crew all abo-..##

"Ben, I know about the quarantine.."
Stanley said cutting him off. "So don't
try to buffer me with false enthusiasm.
Just send my man Stoker in here.
He's been pegged as a risk factor.."

There was a long pause on Stone's
end. Then a click. ##He's on his way
in.. He's been on your engine's
wash down preventative detail so 
he's had no direct contact with 
anyone else except those medical
casualties in your group..##

"Understood, Stone. Engine, 51. Out."
Cap said, and he laid his head back down,
clutching the HT as if holding it would
somehow get him out of the nightmare
he found himself locked inside. 

Hank sighed as Dr. Brackett finished taking
his BP. "Take it easy.. I'll keep you up on 
the latest developments, captain."

"Appreciate it, doc.."

Gil was just giving Kel the verbal rundown
on Johnny, with Gage adding footnotes,
when Mike Stoker appeared in the doorway.

His happy face that the earthquake hadn't
claimed more than a few buildings was
an image no one wanted to shatter.

But then someone, finally did........

 -----------------------------------

Photo: B & W, Mike Stoker.  

Gif: A red earthquake alert gif

Photo : Station 51 as it was before the earthquake.

Photo : Roy prepping a bolus..

*****************************
From:  Katherine Bird <kathbird01@yahoo.co.uk> 
Date:  Mon Oct 28, 2002  2:30 pm
Subject:  Reaching Out..

  
"Hey Mike," Chet called out as he carried
blood soaked dressings from Gage's hand 
towards a medical waste bin. "Ever heard 
of the old adage, 'From out of the frying 
pan and into the flames?'

"Yeah...."

"Well, you're gonna wish you had
a life net to bail out onto for this one, pal.."
and he chucked his sodden bandages
into the trash can with an angry 
overhand.

"Kelly!" Cap admonished. "There are a
million different ways to break bad news 
and only you could've picked the worst 
way possible.." 

"Cap, what's he talking about?" Stoker
said mildly..  "Stone sent me in here,
saying that I was to be a triage "go-for.."
he said, still clueless.  
   
Then he saw Marco's shirt open and
the gear for a pulmonary critical lying out
on his bed; the suctioning device,
the defibrillator, the running EKG monitor
and the unopened esophageal airway. 
"He's going bad? Oh my g*d."  
 
And Stoker started over to him, pulling
off his fire gloves, thinking he had been
called to be a CPR standby for him. 

"Don't go any nearer to Marco, Stoker.
And that's an order.." Dr. Brackett 
said, stopping him. "I won't allow it."

Stoker pushed the doctor's hands away,
unthinking, but Kel again held him back.

Roy interceded verbally from where he 
was raising the head of Marco's long board 
up onto piled blankets to make breathing 
come easier. The water had long soaked 
into the sheets and only fast melting ice
remained around him. These Roy piled 
into and under Marco's armpits.
   
"Mike, it's not what you think. Lopez
is-- He's not in danger of going out on us
here.  At least, not yet. What Dr. Brackett
means is that if you come nearer, you'll
be assuring a better chance of possibly 
becoming sick. You of all of us, are 
the least likely to have been exposed 
so far. You're here because you were in 
the yard earlier and because you were 
side by side with me after I got Marco out."

Stoker's face fell and his angry look 
completely blanched into one of shock.
"He's ill with something real bad?" 
he gasped as he tried to digest the 
horrid news.

Dr. Brackett let him go.
"I'm afraid so. It seems Marco recently
had a small cousin die from a fast acting
hemorrhagic fever type infection that's 
completely unknown to the Center for 
Disease Control in Atlanta.
We're guessing your coworker contracted 
that same illness after attending the 
boy's funeral last week in Mexico.
We find that he's exhibiting a massive
systemic deterioration that is following 
a similar pattern to the one the boy suffered
during the course of the disease."

"He's going to die?" Mike said.

"Not if we can help it."

Stoker's haunted eyes flicked from Roy's
to Cap's and back to Kel's and
he fell speechless.

It was Johnny who addressed Stoker's
stunned silence. "Mike, Dr. Brackett's
fully loaded with equipment. And the
CDC's going to be here any hour to
help us sort out all this mess. Marco 
didn't get sick until almost a week 
had passed following that funeral.
So it'll be a while before any of us comes
down with it. We have time on our side."

He knew he had missed his mark entirely 
when Stoker erupted in uncharacteristic
reaction.
"Yeah?! Tell me another story.
Marco may not even HAVE that Johnny!" 
Stoker said. "Why else would you be set 
up for an imminent crash?" he said throwing 
a hand out to Marco's equipment thick bed. 
"I'm not quiet because I'm thinking about
myself here.." he snapped. "So spare me
your platitudes..!"

"Hey.. Now losing our heads isn't going
to solve the prob--!..." Cap said, shouting.
He immediately cut off for his yell had 
made his head shoot pain all the way 
down to his toes and he winced with a
strangling gurgle, that was almost a sob. 

Captain Stanley covered his face with his 
hands, in a vain attempt to gain control.

That made Dr. Brackett narrow his eyes
in new concern and he moved over to Hank's
wire stretcher to speak quietly with him 
for a moment about it.

Cap's inadvertant cry had cooled his arguing 
crew's fire better than any withering "Cap" 
lecture ever could. All of them were 
cowed and silently they all got to work 
preparing and setting up everything they 
would need to preserve the ordered 
quarantine.

--------------------------------------

Dusk had fallen, and all scene responding 
helicopters had been called off until first light.
   
There was only one still scheduled to come in, 
to risk a night landing in a few minutes and 
that was the chopper bearing the Atlanta 
disease control experts.  

Dr. Brackett, and those unwounded,
chose to sit on the floor, lined up against a 
wall all on a side, as they found themselves 
blinking, and still unresting, while they waited 
for a tell tale "thwop" of helicopter blades to 
come out of the starry skies.

Their eyes similarly studied the tracing blip 
of activity on Lopez's monitor, hopelessly 
caught in its desperate amber dance, and 
the tiny light from it set their faces apart 
from the surrounding darkness.

 The only sound in the sleeping room of 
Station 51 was the wavering rhythm of Marco's 
irregular EKG as PVC's started marching more 
and more frequently across the screen.

The EOA, still lay packaged and unused, on his 
abdomen.

Dimly, in the background, they heard the 
shouts of firecrews and rescue workers 
outside, still sorting through the earthquake 
neighborhood for casualties.

Bonnie, at last, had fallen into a fitful sleep. 
And the seismology reports finally coming in 
from Geological Survey, were showing that 
the ground was doing the same as well.  

The tiny aftershocks that came, barely 
jarred them from their frightening private 
reveries.

Then there was a rustle as Roy excused 
himself verbally. He got up, stepping 
over pairs of legs and moved to the desk 
on the far side of the room. 

There he sat down in the squeaky desk 
chair turned on a battery lamp, and reached
for the phone.

The others slipped back into their irresistible 
snoozing as he began to dial out. 

Roy's face was now dust free, and the cut 
on his forehead had been tended to and 
bandaged, but the care he had received did 
nothing to ease the pain he was feeling 
inside from being away from his family. When 
the last number tumbled into the dialer, he 
did his d*mndest to keep all trace of it from 
his voice.

"Hi, hon. It's me again. No, the last tremor 
didn't shake us too badly. Well, only Johnny 
complained about that one because his Bier 
block was starting to wear off. No. no. He's 
fine. Dr. Brackett did some terrific vascular
work on his hand and that metal rod came 
out without problems. Miss Thorne's coming 
along. She even had some soup earlier. Cap's 
better, too. Doc finally authorized some MS 
for him after he was convinced that crack on
his head was all superficial swelling with no 
underlying problems. Heh. He's even started 
captaining again.  Well, unofficially of course.
He's driving the other engine companies nuts
asking for reports every half hour from his 
stokes. Yes, I heard. Only fifteen have died. 
We were very very lucky.."  

Roy's eyes filled at his next question. 
"H-How are the kids taking this whole 
"daddy's stuck away"thing? You didn't
tell them everything did you? Good. No 
point to doing it, really, until you and I both 
have our answers. No, they're not here yet. 
And LAX is not taking any calls about any 
rescue operation's ETA. They're saving 
themselves for emergency inflight and 
relief traffic correspondence, only for 
situations priority marked in the 
disaster zone.  Yeah. I know. Yeah, 
I-I'm agreeing with you, Joanne. The 
station's definitely in that area, but this 
virus thing is only secondary in their 
priorities."  

He held the phone away from his ear 
and actually almost grinned when his 
last statement brought a tirade of reaction 
from Joanne about exactly what she thought
of the Los Angeles County Fire Department 
/FEMA protocols..

When she was through, Roy spoke again, 
answering her next question. "No, he's 
about the same. We're keeping him 
comfortable and we've managed to drain 
some of that fluid in his lungs. I'll be frank
because we've agreed to be thoroughly honest
with each other..There's been some problems. 
Blood's beginning to show in his sputum and
his temp's going up despite the ice baths.
No, he's still breathing on his own on one
hundred percent O2. " 

He broke off actually grinning.. 
"You're beginning to sound like a paramedic 
here, with all these questions, you know 
that... And what did Chris just say, I didn't
quite hear him.. Oh. LOL! 'That's because 
mommy's married to the best one in 
the whole world huh?....'  Thanks for 
repeating that hon. That was cute." 

Roy closed his eyes trying to picture his 
wife and son in his mind sitting at the 
dining room table, on the phone with him, 
but the picture wouldn't come. "T-That was 
very cute.." and his voice cracked.

"You don't have to call Rose Marie Lopez
on his update Joanne. Vince is already there with
Marco's mom. Yeah. He went there himself
before the news broadcast the station 
as being downed in the quake on the TV.
Listen hon, I'll call you the moment we 
know anything more, all right. I've got to go.
Time for vital sets all around. And I see a 
few saggy IV bags above a few stokes, too,
that need changing over. 

"Yeah. You WILL most likely know sooner 
than I when the CDC arrives. D*mned 
press. They almost got in here once. If 
it weren't for Bonnie, we would have 
been neck deep in plague panicky reporters 
once they learned the quarantine orders 
weren't viscious rumors. 

"On channel five? All right, I'll try to 
peek out a head at ten and wave when the
live broadcast outside starts up. No we've 
no power. But I've got a watch.
I can do this. Might cheer up the kids..

"Those reporters need a scare or two 
to get off the driveway anyway.
Cap's already crawling out of his skin
over the damage done to the station 
vehicles. It'll do him some good if
I can get them all to just to clear off. "

He grabbed a water bottle and opened
it but he didn't drink, at her next words.
"I - I love you too, Joanne. H- Hug the
kids for me, will ya? Talk to you
in the morning...Yeah, I'll let Marco know
you're praying for him. Bye."  

And he set the phone down with a soft
snick into the receiver.


Roy got back over to the populated end
of the bunk room and returned to the
others, reluctantly.

He had just sat back down to take
a sleeping Miss Thorne's BP, when 
Marco on the bed, suddenly seized 
into a convulsion.

Chet was there instantly, "Dr. Brackett!!"

Brice, Gil and Roy jumped to their feet
in moments, right behind Kel.

They scrambled, reaching for......

------------------------------------

*animated gif*  An English Paramedic Ambulance.

Photo :  Johnny popping epinephrine shot caps.

Photo : A shot of the squad and turnout coat,
            with full gear boxes.

--------------------------------------------

End Part One...


******************************** 
From:  Sam Iam <lafddispatcher@yahoo.com> 
Date:  Tue Oct 29, 2002  6:14 pm
Subject:  Setback

Special Website Acknowledgement
for Episode Images being provided from...

Guest....KMG365 at Tigger's E Stuff Website
http://exit3.i-55.com/~ffaller/emergency/

Also special thanks to site EMS Medical Consult : 
P. Keiper NREMT Minnesota

-----------------------------------------------

Marco's longboard and the O2 mask on
his face.

Johnny, jarred awake by the shouting,
knew immediately what was happening
at a glance. "Tip him over, guys, tip
him over!" he said from his stokes.

Brice and Gil each grabbed an edge 
of the long board and then turned Lopez
onto his side, gracelessly. 

Roy slid Marco's non rebreather mask 
out of the way and angled Lopez's head 
back, laying his cheek on an arm. In between
Marco's violent spasms, DeSoto pulled out 
the short oral airway that had been 
over Marco's tongue and snatched
up the suctioning tube lying idle on 
the bed, he paused as he checked for
signs that Lopez had vomited. "He's
clear..." he said, throwing the probe
aside and replacing the mask down
over Lopez's nose and mouth. "Most 
likely because he hasn't eaten since 
this morning..." Roy stayed closely
by his head, one eye intently watching 
the motion fluctuating ECG while the 
others moved into action around him.
He sighed, seeing a bite stick wasn't needed
when Marco's jaw released at a touch.

Dr. Brackett nodded, agreeing about
the lack of aspiration as he listened 
to the seizing fireman's chest with a 
stethoscope. "He's clear here, too.
There's just that prior edema. All
right. Let's get him back supine. 
Easy.. and tighten those straps. 
He's working them loose."

Everyone watching, held their breaths as
Marco's breathing came in hard gasps
as his convulsions rattled the metal
bedframe underneath him. Chet did
his best to stay out of the paramedics
way while making sure Marco didn't hurt 
himself.

Mike, took a few steps nearer but  
stayed back, still uncertain and a little
frightened about getting so near to
Marco's illness.

Craig Brice looked up from where he
was pulling a backwash of blood from
Marco's original IV with an empty syringe.
"Serum glucose doc?"

"You bet. If it's below 80 mg/dL, inject
25 g dextrose D50 IVP. These seizures
might not be just febrilly induced. His
blood sugar may have taken a nose 
dive or skyrocketted."

Brice moved to a glucose monitor and
quickly got a baseline off of his red top.
"It's 62." 

"Follow up, Brice. That dex and 100mg 
Thiamine IV. I don't want him to lose a 
heart rhythm." Dr. Brackett said.

"On it."

Kel looked up at Gil. "Sheppard, run in
a second IV, Normal Saline wide open. 
We'll risk the fluid overload. We need it for
his sedation med. We'll bump it down
after we've gotten these convulsions under 
control. Ughh." he grunted, helping Roy keep 
Marco's airway open. It took both of
them to do it, when a bad series of shudders
bucked him more violently, underneath 
their hands.

Chet, meanwhile had gotten the 
resuscitator near and had set the demand
valve mask available on Lopez's pillow. 
"Thanks," Kel said to Kelly. "But he's 
doing fine so far, even breathing broken
like this."

Roy looked up. "Time for diazepam, doc? 

"Yes, draw up ten milligrams. We'll titrate
into his IV until he responds. If that doesn't 
work, we'll use Ativan, 2 mg IM. He's too 
shocky for paracetamol."

----

Miss Thorne was covering her eyes
to keep herself from looking, and Cap noticed. 
"It looks scary for Lopez with those convulsions, 
Cindy. But he's not feeling any pain with them
at all.  Marco's muscles are just kicked into 
overdrive because of the low sugar in his
blood and because of that fever. They're 
going to settle him down in just a sec here
so he can breathe normally."
 
----

Roy prepared the syringe of medication
Dr. Brackett had ordered as fast
as he could. He heard Cap's
reassurances to Cindy, but didn't look
up. "Doc, want me to do it?"

"Give it here.." Kel said to Roy,
reaching out for the medication. 
"Take over watching his airway, Kelly."

"Got him.." Chet said, firmly taking
Marco's chin and head so he wouldn't 
obstruct as Dr. Brackett let go.

Kel pushed all the air out of his syringe
needle until the diazepam geysered high
and then parked the newly strung and
running NS IV Brice handed him under his 
arm to hold it while he injected the muscle
relaxant slowly into its drip chamber.. 

They all watched for signs that
Marco's convulsions were ending.

About twenty seconds later, they
did. 

The EKG monitor bleeped a changed
beat alarm when the V-tach settled
into a more solid sinus rhythm. The
frenzied PVC's died away from the
tracing pattern.

Dr. Brackett set a hand on Marco's
chest to feel for his respiration status.
"There. That's better." he said
about the ECG. Then he looked
up again with a slight frown. "Kelly, 
hyperventilate him a few times. 
The diazepam's suppressing his 
intake a bit."

Roy removed the old nonrebreather 
mask from Marco's face,
as Chet took over with the demand valve.
Kelly made sure it was sealed well 
over Lopez's nose and mouth.
Then he thumbed the positive pressure 
trigger on the demand valve, until 
he had delivered four vents carefully 
into Marco's lungs. 

Dr. Brackett had out his stethoscope
again. "Ok, hold off.." and he listened
to the bubbling breath sounds.
"That's all he needed. A boost. He's
back.."

Everyone gasped in relief and even
Johnny let out the breath he was holding.

Dr. Brackett smiled, pleased. "At least
that was one problem easily solved.
Get Marco's head elevated again while 
you're there, Kelly would you? And 
Gil, you can TKO that normal saline 
now." The dark haired doctor moved 
to turn on a strip from the monitor to
take a closer look at how Lopez's heart 
had handled the incident.

Roy had a question. "Doc.."

"Hmm?" Dr. Brackett said, not looking
up.

"We lost all the ice around Marco.
Do you want us to replace it?"

Kel shook his head. "The diazepam
will shut off that fever parasympathetically
on its own. We can always get some
more if his temp rises again. 
Get another one for reference for now,
all right?"

Roy nodded. Soon, he had a reading.
"One hundred one."

"Down. Despite the convulsions."
Brackett remarked, satisfied. "Let's
monitor his respirations to be sure
they're stable."

Gil, was getting a new, dry blanket
for Marco when Stoker came up hesitantly.
"Need help with that?"

Sheppard grinned warmly, knowing the
mental obstacle Mike had had to overcome
to just be there. "Sure.. Tuck in that side, 
but keep his chest uncovered. We have to
eye his breathing rate for a while."

"Yes. I heard.." Mike said.
Then he looked down..frowning.. "Hey doc.."
he called out. "Look at this.. He's developing
a rash or something. It's breaking out on his
chest."

Dr. Brackett stopped his ECG reading
and bent over the bed. He felt Marco's
throat and larynx, but found no swelling
at all.  "Hmm, no signs of anaphalaxis
here yet... And his color's good. This looks more 
like an urticaria or a secondary maculopapular 
rash to me... but ah, following up
on the first angle,.... Roy, Johnny... does 
Marco have any known allergies to 
medications?"

"No, doc.. He's NKA on just about everything.
Well, everything except for an intolerance 
for putting up with one of Chet Kelly's jokes."
Gage quipped.

"Oh very funny, Gage. Would that be like
ah, say your own marked intolerance 
for any strikes aimed at you from the 
Phantom??"

Kel grinned. The banter meant the firehouse
gang was starting to relax again. 
"I heard about that whole one upmanship going
on, from Dixie, a while ago. Who finally won?"

"I did."
"I did." said Johnny and Chet simultaneously.
They made sharp stares, glaring at each other
and then let they both ..let ...loose.

"I had the last word!" Chet insisted.

"No I did! Remember my very very slick
"Are we going to eat off the table?" delivery
line? Man, Chet. You fell for that completely, 
hook line and sinker. And don't deny it. The 
whole gang were my witnesses.. Isn't
that right Marco..?" and he patted Lopez's
shoulder despite the fireman still being 
unconscious.
 
Mike Stoker piped up. "Chet was the last
one to "one up" there Johnny, if I recall."

"No, I thought he was er, I was.."
Gage cocked his jaw, thinking back. He
wasn't quite sure about that fact himself
and it showed in his eyes.

"Sorry, Gage. But the Phantom
match, I do believe, went to Kelly."
Cap said, with an amused smirk.
"I wasn't directly involved or targetted
with water bombs in that particular 
week of shenanigans, but I did follow all 
the action VERY closely, back then."

"You did?"
"You did?" John and Chet said as one.
They looked at each other once more
but this time, in complete and utter surprise.

Then Chet asked. "Hey Cap. How did you
know?"

"Well, usually, all the water in the station
is either in the Engine tanks or the sink
when I don't have someone stuck on mop
detail." he steepled his hands together over
his chest as he thought back "Annnddd  I ....
noticed the dry, hot Santa Ana air that month 
suddenly got suspicious humid, only inside 
the station."

Kelly and John both flushed red when they realized
they had been outfoxed by Cap the observer,
despite their efforts to hide the misadventure.

 "Didn't take long to find out what you
two were up to.... at all.." Cap said, pleased 
as punch.

Johnny complained after he picked
up his jaw off his chest. "Well why didn't 
you stop him from doing all that from
the beginning?"he pointed at Chet. He 
winced when that pointing hand was his 
post surgical one. "I must have spent thirty
dollars in laundering bills and re-polishing
streetside shoeshines that week." 

Chet sniggered but immediately stifled it.

"Well, Gage.. Let's just say I had money
riding on the outcome.." Hank trickled.

Chet and Gage's eyes both widened in
surprise at their captain.

Stoker couldn't wait to elaborate. 
"He made out like a bandit, boys, while 
you two were playing Phantom.
Called your every mutual moves play by play."

"Oh- oh yeah?" Chet said, gaining back a
bit of timid bravado in the face of finding
out about his superiorly ranking boss's less
than honorable conduct. " Just how
much did you win off us, Cap? We do
have a right to know..  You know, for
the loss of face we suffered,  the butt 
we must have been in every other 
shifts' table jokes as you gave them
gritty details behind our backs.."
Kelly huffed low in his throat. "Pah..
I'll just bet C shift must have been 
the ones who ran that betting pool 
that Cap cleaned up in."

Cap grinned evilly around his O2 cannula
as he suddenly shook his head slowly
in the negative.. "Kelly,.." he tapped his ample 
nose, twice at the curly haired fireman. 
"...about the winnings.." he chuckled. 
"And...hate to break it to ya fellas, but...." 
and he took in a big satisfied breath, 
"I was that all secret kingpin.."

Johnny and Chet fell utterly speechless.

Even Roy's eyes got larger and he blinked,
almost sticking himself with Marco's sedative
syringe that he was holding onto, to document 
usage spent, before he caught on to what he 
was doing, and reset it carefully back onto the 
table.

Captain Stanley smiled at his audience.
"You gotta remember, a captain's ALWAYS
on top of any situation.." Hank said
with aplomp. "At a fire, or.." he said
with mystery,...".. just waiting for one.." 

With that, he turned over in his
stokes and went back to sleep.

Dr. Brackett chuckled as he snugged
up Marco's blankets to his neck when
he was convinced the ill fireman had
good control over his breathing and
airway on his own. "Glad I work in
a hospital.."

"Oh? You mean, Morton, Dix and
Joe, don't get you with zingers like
this one every so often doc?"
Gage asked, lacing his fingers behind
his head. He grunted when he knocked
his injured hand against the wall.
He had forgotten about it.

"No. Doesn't happen. Everyone's 
always too busy to do that sort of
thing being always up to their eyeballs 
in emergency cases, Johnny." and he 
grinned.

Dr. Brackett got up from Marco's
side to make a note on his runsheet
about the new rash spreading on Lopez's
body. He made it a point to keep it 
the first thing to mention to the CDC
team, when they arrived.

And soon, the long awaited for chartered
helicopter.. zoomed over the gaping hole
in the roof of the shattered fire station
to land on the boulevard.

-------------------------------

Photo :  Chet looking worried as
             he provides resuscitation to 
             someone.

Photo : Someone preparing an IV up close.

Photo : Chet and Marco in a lighter mood.

******************************
From : "Roxy Dee" <laterrapincabesa@hotmail.com>  
 Subject :  [emergencytheaterlive]The Grade Four~~  
 Date : Sat, 02 Nov 2002 08:41:36 +0000  

In a wash of dust and debris, the
foot rungs touched earth and five
people got out, loaded to the hilt with
sophisticated supplies and from the back,  
a mobile pallet of lab equipment from the 
chopper's cargo hatch. Police got them 
all through the clamoring press surrounding 
the station and allowed them to go into
the barricaded off back yard.

Once there, two of the five member team
suited up in biohazard gear for entering the 
station, while the others stayed back to set 
up support tents and a rudimentary 
decontamination station out of the sight
of public eyes. 

Captain Stone looked up from his place
in the center of triage command and his
thoughts turned once more to his fellow 
firemen held hostage not by smoke 
or fire, but by a germ.::Just how the h*ll 
are we gonna fight this ?:: Troubled deeply, 
he turned back to his organizational
operations and tried not to feel helpless.
He mentally hoped Captain Stanley would
keep him updated on any news as it
happened.

The advance team's leader, a smallish, 
petite woman, picked her way through 
the fallen rafters and bricks in the garage 
to the bunk room. She went without 
preamble, to Dr. Brackett's side hefting
a field autopsy kit, and a heavily sealed 
liquid nitrogenated container labelled 
extreme biohazard.  This she set safely
down in the middle of a tabletop.

Kel looked up seeing them. "About time 
you got here, doctors. Marco's 
symptomology's advanced beyond your 
projections."

"Sorry. Didn't count on breaking through a
military line at the airport. The Guard
was called out to maintain order
because of your recent developing
environmental setback." the woman
replied, grinning through her plastic
face piece.

Kel grinned. "Is that what you 
microbiologists call an earthquake?"

The ginger haired, french braided woman
looked up, setting the rest of analysis
gear onto an empty bed. "It can be, to 
us in the CDC, that can also mean the 
fact that this contagion might have
succeeded in jumping an international 
border."

Roy and Gil and Craig had looked up with
alacrity from their medical monitoring just
a minute before and were still stunned
at the sight of the fully suited doctor.
 
::My god. This is more serious than I realized.:: 
Roy thought, eyeing up the woman's white 
bio-tunic, clearly air sealed. She had on
a SCBA tank but her mask was not in place 
beneath her transparent hood. 

Then, the second member of the CDC's 
First In team joined her, having come 
from where he had placed microlab 
instruments in the lamp lit kitchen.
"Jamie, the kitchen area looks intact,
I'll have our team give it a wash down
and have it covered. I've already told them
to place our mobile lab in there.."

"Understood, Steven.." she replied,
her very blue eyes, glancing up at 
him.

Then Roy overheard something else 
which made him glad Marco was still 
comatose. 

The woman scientist eyed up her study
subject with the skill of an analyst, noting
the rash, the abnormal EKG and the fluids
hung over Marco's head, and what
percentage O2 he was on while she spoke.
"First thing, we're going to confirm or
refute the theory of Mr. Lopez truly being our
Patient X in the U.S. as the boy was 
for his country in Mexico City. 
We've brought pathological tissue 
samples from the Lopez child to verify 
any infection commonality in both him 
and Marco. 
So far, you'll be pleased to know, Dr. 
Brackett, that we've learned the disease 
most likely isn't transmitted by airborne
vectors.." she said looking up. "Three 
of the victims down with the illness have 
no signs of insect bites."

Kel said, "That's a relief, this summer
there are insects a plenty. Glad they aren't
a factor we're going to have to worry about
here." Then he noticed the others watching 
quietly from where they were. "Oh. Sorry
all. " He gave introductions to the rest of 
the room,..
"Everyone, this is Doctor Jamie MacPherson, 
head of the Special Pathogens Branch in
Atlanta.."

Roy and Johnny nodded. And so did everyone
else but their uncertain looks remained on their
faces, each looking emotionally worn in the 
dim battery light of the room.

Dr. Brackett turned to Jamie's companion, 
"And this is her assistant head, Dr. Steven Taylor. 
These two are the people with whom I spoke 
this afternoon after we concluded your rescue call
Roy..."

The others didn't have anything to say, reduced
to a slightly fearful silence by the frightening 
advancing reality of the circumstances 
surrounding them.

"Gentlemen and maam.." Jamie said.
"I know it's a little startling, having us appear 
like this, off a hightech, night flying helicopter, 
suddenly invading the scene in the midst
of an already ongoing disaster. Myself and 
my associate are both geared like this strictly 
for precautionary measures. I'm happy to 
say it's been looking more and  more that, 
whatever the contagion is, it infects 
only by direct body fluid transmission. So some 
of you who didn't handle Mr. Lopez may 
eventually prove to be uninfected. 
  This mode of transmission is collaborated 
by the fact that the seven other 
Mexican victims have all have been reliably 
reported as having physically touched 
Benardo, as they prepared him for burial."

Gil spoke up. "H-how do you explain Marco falling
sick then? He arrived there much later according
to Roy here.."

Jamie cast her eyes down. "The boy's mother
said he kissed Bernardo on the cheek before
the casket was covered.." 

"Is she one who's sick?" Johnny asked. "I--
I mean, if Marco wakes up, he's gonna wanna
know.." he said softly..

"Yes, Mr. Gage." Steven said. His suit crinkled 
as he sat on a stool at Marco's bedside, to 
read the chart Doctor Brackett and the 
paramedics were keeping on Marco. "She 
was still alive last report, as of a half hour 
ago." 

Miss Thorne timidly wrapped herself tighter
in her wool blanket. "Is there anything 
you've found that may... prevent or slow this 
disease yet?"

"Miss Thorne, we can't treat for anything yet 
beyond standard life supporting measures until 
we know exactly what it is we're dealing with here."
Jamie said. "The wrong medication or antibiotic
could alter immunophysiologic responses and
actually allow this unknown disease to run its 
course even faster instead of buying any time."
she answered.

Gil asked one more question. "Has anyone
infected held up in the face of this disease?
Any one recovering?"

Dr. MacPherson sighed. "No. That's what made
us tentatively classify this outbreak as a possible 
Grade Four."

"Grade Four?" Roy asked, "Forgive me for being
ignorant but I'm unfamiliar with that terminology." 
he said, trying to smile without nervousness. 
"It must be something my partner and I don't deal with 
in the field working as paramedics.."

"So you two are the ones who directly cared
for Mr. Lopez? I need to ask you a few more
details once Dr. Taylor and I get set up here.
But to answer your question..."
Jamie looked up from where she was skillfully 
drawing a blood sample off Marco, even with 
her suit's gloves on. "That ranking means
a germ with a very high virulence and killing 
factor, Mr. DeSoto. There are only six known 
illnesses in this category that we know about, 
that have rapid fever with bleeding with its onset. 
Machupo Plague, Lassa Fever, Nipah virus, 
Hendra virus, Junin Plague, and the last,
is one newly discovered, the Ebola virus.."

"Ebola...." Chet said with rising fright. "I've heard
of that. Oh, man.. it wiped out a whole village 
in West Africa last year.. Is that what Marco's got?"

Jamie raised a gloved hand. "No,.." she insisted.
"This body rash doesn't come with Ebola. This strain's
new or rare. All we know is that it takes effect very 
very quickly and that it is a hemorrhagic syndrome 
type virus.  Most likely in the Flavivirus family. 
Also, there's every chance that this bug may be 
another mutation of Dengue Fever, in its stronger 
variant , which is only fatal 30% of the time. 
Of those, there have been seventeen types of 
DHF discovered in the last ten years."

Cap blinked, "Ok,.. Just ah, what can we do 
here to help you doctors out? I know
for myself I want to do more than just lie
around waiting for answers." He had been
awake ever since the helicopter's motor
blade noise woke him up.

Jamie bit her lip, tilting her face inside
her biohood. "Well for starters, I want
to know as much as each of you can
tell me about Marco's illness, when he
got sick, what his initial symptoms were.
What worked in making him feel better.
That sort of thing. Details might give us
something more to work on.."

  Roy spoke up. "Well, he had laryngitis
real bad last night. It started a few hours
after we all had a bad fire. Marco complained
of a sore throat..."
 "And I noticed bloody patches 
in his nasopharyngeal area when I put in
an oral airway this afternoon, doctor.." 
Gil replied.
 "Don't forget how O2 made his cough better."
Chet added.
 "And how my mother's medicinal tea helped
out too. Honey and herbs." Johnny said quickly.

Steven shook his head and held up a glove, and
his pen poised over the chart.
"Wait a minute. Wait a minute. One at a time.
Slow down. Let's start from the beginning ok?"

And they did. 

Soon,  no one had anything else to add.

Jamie read back what she had to everyone
to reiterate. "...and then, Dr. Brackett, you
said an instigated Glucose IV push, and 
diazepam along with some forced O2, 
ended his febrile seizure?"

"That's correct. And his temperature went down
two degrees from Roy's initial finding."

"Got it.. Now, if you'll excuse me, Steven
and I are going to compare this blood sample
from Marco with those we have of his deceased
cousin to begin a baseline analysis.." Jamie told them.
Then she looked at Kel, switching to all doctor.
"We're planning on using two virus isolation
methods here, Dr. Brackett. First, a polymerase
chain reaction analysis followed by an antigen
capture enzyme-linked immunosorbent assay."

Kel nodded. "I agree that a PCR and ELISA 
comparison will reveal any marked pleomorphism
under the microscope.."

Cindy piped up. "Pleo what?"

"What the germs are shaped like, Miss Thorne.."
Steven replied. "A vital clue which might tell
us what we're dealing with.."

"Can I help you with anything?" Kel asked.

Steven and Jamie looked around the room
at everyone in stokes. "Can you leave your
patients?"

Roy spoke up. "Doctor. He can. Besides 
me and my partner, Brice and Gil are
paramedics, too. We'll be fine."

"Ok. Let's get at it then.." she nodded,
satisfied. Kel and Jamie and Steven rose
from their chairs, leaving with the path kit
and the tissue cryo case holding the
dead boy's tissue remains.
Marco's vials of whole blood also
accompanied them to the kitchen,
where the newly erected, makeshift 
biolab awaited.

The firemen, paramedics and teacher were
left alone with their thoughts.

On his bed, Marco startlingly moved, 
emitting a low moaning noise...

Brice, Roy and Gil hurried to his side,
to determine Glasgow status.

"Marco?!" Gage called out..

Lopez reacted by....

----------------------------

Photo:  Dr. Brackett looking at your
            pupils with a penlight.

Photo : Photo of Miss Thorne, in closeup.

Photo: Of a blood filled IV bag.
   
Photo : An awake Marco with a bandaid on
            his head.

Photo: Station 51 at night.

 
***************************
From : "Clairissa Fox" <Canaryyello@hotmail.com>  
Subject : [EmergencyTheaterLive] Darkest Before Dawn..  
Date : Sun, 03 Nov 2002 06:11:08 +0000  
 
...groaning again, but his encrusted eyes,
didn't open.

"Hey! Somebody help me down from here. I
want to be the first one to talk to him. 
Now." Captain Stanley ordered. 
His voice held undeniably firm authority.

Craig and Chet lifted Cap's stokes off
the two chairs it was lying across
and set it onto the floor.  Hank grabbed
their hands as they each also gripped a
shoulder to help him sit up, gingerly. 
.
"Wait, Kelly.." Craig said when Chet
tightened the grip in one of his hands to 
give Cap leverage to get to his feet. 
Brice glanced at Hank. 
"Don't lie to me when you answer this. 
I'll be able to tell by your eyes. 
I don't care if getting you up was an 
order or not because you're officially
sidelined. Morphine still making you 
dizz--? "

"West is that way Brice!.." Cap pointed 
towards the open exterior door with his
HT's antennae. "Now get me up!.."

"Right. You're fine.." Brice said two 
seconds later. "Chet, make sure
he doesn't crash into anything." he 
replied, his resistance crumbling.

Stanley instantly pushed to his feet by 
himself before anyone could help him 
further.

Kelly hastened to get Cap's oxygen tubing
trailing behind him properly and snatched up 
his D tank to follow along as Cap made his way 
shakily to Marco's longboard on the bed.

"What about me?" Gage complained.
"I'm not dizzy."

"No, but you were shocky post surgical.
Get your BP up to normal and you can 
join him." Brice dismissed Gage's jibe
with efficiency.

Johnny cut off his rejoiner when DeSoto's
quiet vocal urging began.

Roy was examining Marco's eyes with a
penlight. "Marco.. It's Roy. Can you 
understand me? If you do, I want you 
to open your eyes.."

Lopez didn't, but he kept stirring restlessly
in his fever.

DeSoto took a pen out and dug its cap into 
one of Marco's nail beds, pressing down
hard.

The pain made Marco grunt and jerk his
hand away and he coughed under his
oxygen mask but he didn't form legible
words.

"Should we go get the docs? If Marco
wakes up more, he might be able to
tell them about how he's feeling." Stoker 
asked.

Roy said. "No. We're gonna let him know what's
going on here first. He might not even know 
that we were even IN an earthquake. That in 
itself is going to be one h*ll of a shock."

Craig reached into the drug box and pulled
out an aromatic capsule, holding it up
questioningly.

"Yes.." Roy nodded, taking it from Brice.
He pulled down Marco's O2 mask so that it
was sitting by his mouth on his chest. Then he
cracked the aromatic in two, waving the 
capsule under Lopez's nose, following after 
his nostrils with it when Marco tried to avoid 
its fumes.

Lopez's eyes finally opened with startled
coherence.  

"Marco.. you with us?" Roy asked again.

"Whaa?" Lopez coughed wetly, getting rid 
of the ammonia stench in his nose and finally,
his eyes worked to focus on faces.

On a thought, Hank pulled off his own 
O2 cannula, and he hastily hid it in his shirt 
collar to spare Marco some worry.
Cap set a hand on Lopez's shoulder.
"Easy there, pal." 

"*ugh.*   C -Cap? " Marco asked blearily..
"W-was I in a fire?" he said. "Hard to breathe."

"It's all right, Marco. We're dealing with that. 
You've got some lung edema but you've got 
O2 on. It's right here.." Cap said, placing the 
mask into Marco's sweaty hand.
"Use it when you need it."  

Roy got a blood pressure as he watched
Marco recover clarity.

 
Captain Stanley went on, "Not exactly
a fire, Lopez. More like a ..well, an earthquake."

"What?" Marco whispered, his voice cracking.

"It hit the stationhouse, Marco." Chet said
taking a stool by his head. "But everyone's
all right. Nothing serious injury wise."

Marco felt night wind on his face and noticed
the stars showing through the roof where
the garage rafters had been. "Ohh.."
"There's no roof?! H-How are the buildings 
on the rest of the block?? W-we gotta go 
help people.." he exclaimed, and tried 
to rise, but his board's straps prevented that.

"Oh, no. no. no.." Gage warned Marco.
"We've plenty of help out there, Marco.
About eight engine companies worth. Casualties
were light. We don't have to go anywhere so
relax.."

"W--? Johnny.  It's dark?.. Why am I still here
if I'm hurt or something? Should've been 
to Rampart already." he gasped.

Cap and the others exchanged looks.

Then Stanley looked down at his dirty hands
and said. "W-we can't do that, Marco. Not yet.
You see, there's another problem we're dealing
with right now. But we've the best team around
to help us out of this one. They came all the way
from the other side of the country to--"

"Cap. Just level with me. Don't beat around
the bush. Last time someone did that to
me it was the day I found out my little
cousin Bernardo had died." Lopez said.

Cap looked sharply pained and fought his
emotion to the point of clenching his jaw to
keep anything from getting out too fast.
"Marco. It's not good news, just like the news
was on Bernardo.."

"Is it mama? Is she ok??" Marco said with
alarm. Roy and Gil held him down.

"She's fine. She's fine. The quake didn't 
reach the Palisades. Vince's already stopped
in to check on her.." Roy said quickly.

"Then why do all of you look like someone
died?" Lopez said.

"That's because, there's a very real chance
that all of us just might do that, Marco."
Cap said to the point and very very raw.

"I don't understand.." Lopez said.
His EKG picked up a little in stress and he
started to gasp until Roy made him take
a few breaths off the O2 mask.

Captain Stanley continued. "Your cousin didn't
go from some fluke fever, Marco. He was ill 
with something..." he sighed heavily.
"..with something no one's ever seen before.."

Lopez paled. "And now I got it? And the rest of
you?"

Cap just nodded. "It's a very real possibility
that we've all been exposed. The docs 
here from Atlanta are working on the problem, 
even now, right here in the station.."
he said, trying to smile. "Shouldn't be too
long before they pull a couch or two out
of the house fire."

"I'm going to die?" Marco asked.

Brice immediately replied. "No. It hasn't
been confirmed what illness you have.
So far, you've just a fever, and some
fluid in your chest and a skin rash. Nothing
we can't handle.."

Marco blinked.  "Craig? But you're working
for eight. Your station's here?"

"Yes, Captain Stone is right outside, running
triage operations, with Cap here." he said.
"Couldn't resist the call to dig out a couple
of fire engines from their own garage, know
what I mean? Had to save Cap here some 
face somehow.."

Captain Stanley hefted his HT to encourage
Marco that it was true.

Lopez didn't say anything, and he just blinked
at the ceiling, the nightmare still not yet 
accepted.

Roy spoke up. "We're doing everything we
can here, Marco. We're just under a temporary
quarantine until we get some answers. And
we've turned it into a regular campout.." he
grinned. "Look, soup stove and everything."

It faded when Marco's eyes filled and he began
to sob softly.

Roy went on. "I know things sound bad. And
Cap and I know how you feel. It feels like everything
all around you has..kinda been turned upside down
and it's not a pretty picture to be waking up to.
But know that we're in this together, Marco.
A firecrew never abandons one of their own."

"You got that right.." Cap agreed.

"There's two very very good doctors here,
a Steven Taylor and a Jamie MacPherson.
And Dr. Brackett's been telling us that they are
simply the best of the best in their field. 
I wouldn't be surprised if they...wrapped up
things here in just a couple of days.."

"But what about my family in Mexico? Are
they still safe?" Lopez asked, angrily wiping
away tears.

"Yes. Bernardo's mother is ill but holding her
own. But there are seven down there with
the same symptoms as Bernardo's.."
Roy replied. Then he looked down, fussing
with an IV that didn't need attention. "And..
yours.."

"So why didn't you bail out when you could,
everyone?" Marco said, his frustration and
anger building and he pegged them all
with a viscious glare.

"Marco. Calm down.." Cap said.

But Lopez wouldn't listen. "I tried to! Only
I wasn't running for the kids when the bricks
started falling down all around me.. I just
ran for the door.. Yes, that's what I did.."
he sobbed. "Some hero, huh.?"

Stanley sharply told him. "Lopez. Stop. Getting
into self pity isn't going to solve--"

"Don't you see, Cap?.. I ran! I'm sure you
guys were real puzzled why I was in the kitchen
instead of the garage with them." he cried,
his eyes blinded by frightened tears. "And I
wish to G*d I could be running away from
all this right now..." he whispered. "Oh,
Bernardo!... Oh, Mama!... I'm sorry.. I'm so..
sorry...Lo ciento por su dolor y herido.." 
and he started to cry in heaving choking
sobs of grief and shock.

Cap hugged him, and held him tightly as
Marco finally gave in completely to his
terror and fear. "Lopez. It's all right. We're
here. And we won't be leaving you, pal.
Not by a long shot.."

"I want to die.. I want to die.. Oh, Bernardo...."
Marco's sobs died away. 

At his silence, Chet moved forward. 
"He's out again?" Kelly asked with alarm, 
swallowing.. He helped Cap lower him 
slowly back down again onto the longboard.

Roy looked at the EKG and took a pulse.
"No. Just sleeping. "

"What was wrong with him? I mean, I- I've never
seen Marco act that way, Roy.." 

DeSoto met Chet's eyes. "Its nothing. He's a little
raw partly because of the fever, and the 
diazepam, and most likely, from some inner feelings 
he's been suppressing ever since his cousin's
funeral. Not the first time someone's buried family
and then not reacted to it until weeks later..
He'll be better emotionally after a good nap."

Johnny piped up. "Yeah, Chet. He's a human
being, so give him some slack.."

"I am. I am.. It was just a little frightening seeing
him come unraveled like that."

"Well you would, too, after surviving a funeral,
the complete destruction of your workplace,
an earthquake, and then capping it all off 
by coming down with a potentially lethal 
plague..Come on, Cap. Let's get you back to bed.."

"I'd rather stay here, if that's ok with you..
Gage.." Cap said. "I can recupe just
as well from a chair as a stokes.."

"Ok. Just have Chet put your O2 back on.."
Johnny said, rolling over to get some rest
himself.

Roy nodded in agreement and soon, Chet and he
left Cap studying Marco's sweaty face as he 
slept fitfully.

Cap was almost dozing from the heady
effects of the O2 cannula when he realized
that Marco and he were no longer alone,
on just a feeling. He opened his eyes.

Miss Thorne had gotten up and she had moved
to the chair Roy had vacated. "He's almost
my age.." she said gently. Cindy reached 
out to Marco's face to brush away a tangle
of wet hair with compassion.

Cap grabbed her hand, and shook his head,
preventing her from touching him.

"It's all right.. You firemen aren't the only ones
known for self sacrificing oneself. 
And there are two million teachers out 
there all across the country who'll agree 
with me on just that point." 

Captain Stanley smiled and let her go.
Then he afforded her some feigned privacy
as she leaned down to admit a secret to
his sleeping crewmate.

Cindy wiped away Marco's tears with a gauze
pad and bathed his face in a cool cloth as
she talked. "You know, Marco. You weren't
the only one who wanted nothing else
but to run today..." she told his sleeping
features.."Stoker here had to tackle me
to keep me under that kitchen table until
the quake had ended. So I think there's
a bit of cowardice in all of us. It's not surprising
to me that the ground failing beneath our feet
brought some of that out in both you and me.
But I'll just bet there hasn't been a single fire 
that you've ever seen where you didn't just 
go charging right on into it without hesitation. 
So you're one up on a whole lot of us teachers
in the bravery department, Marco Lopez. Those 
kids knew that coming here today. And so 
did I... Just sleep...Things will be brighter
in the morning. They always become
that way, with the dawn.."

In reply, Marco's EKG, slowed into deeper rest.

---------------------------------

In the station kitchen improvised
lab, Dr. Steven Taylor and Dr. Jamie 
MacPherson made a startling
discovery on their specimen slides.

They found.......

-----------------------------

Photo: Cap at night calling on his HT.

Photo : Chet sitting up in alarm on his bed.

Photo : Marco looking very serious.

Gif :  A peaceful California dawn by the ocean.

*****************************
From: finiterider@yahoo.com 
Date: Tue, 5 Nov 2002 14:56:21 -0800 (PST) 
Subject: [EmergencyTheaterLive ] The Red Devils-- 


...bacteriophage. Simple, unknown;
completely undifferentiated bacteriophage.

"Steve. Come look at this. I pulled it off 
the fireman's gram negative stain." Jamie 
gasped through her contamination hood.

Dr. Taylor joined her and bent down
into the microscope. "Look at that
Shepherd's Crook morphology. Could
this be an RNA filovirus?"

Jamie shuddered. "We've only hypothesized
that evolution of phage in theory as 
a zoonotic model, no known living specimens
are known to exist."

Steven was thoughtful. " Zoonosis? Mexico has 
plenty of mammalian carriers. Mice, birds..."

"Yes, but those vectors are everywhere. 
What is unique in Mexico city and nowhere 
else?" Jamie said. 

"It's tropical around Marco's family's 
neighborhood. Monkeys?" Dr. Taylor 
theorized.

"None that are native..  Bacteriophage are
weak transferring to foreign or human bred hosts. 
It would have had to evolve in one genus 
for decades to mutate to an infectious state 
strong enough to cross species barriers. 
Mexico has no native simians." 

Steve was finetuning the microscope as he dressed
his sample with an enzyme catalyst to break
down the virus into its separate constituents.

He took the slide off and shook it while
the solution broke it down.

Then he replaced the slide. "Oh my g*d.
Jamie,.. they're reassembling despite the
protein dissolver.."

"Self assembling? Retrovirus! That's a 
class neither virus nor bacterial, millions of 
years old." MacPherson said.

"Then our contagion's host will have
to be at least that old, too.."

"Insectoidal?" Jamie guessed.

"We ruled that out. No bites on half the
victims, remember?" Steven sighed.

MacPherson was undaunted.
"The Marco house is deeply inside
city limits on the edge of the mountains.
No animals crawling in from the forest would
go unnoticed there."

"Birds?"

"Too inefficient a metabolism for a retroviral
infection. It would never survive in them."
Taylor said, "I've tried on computer models."

Jamie frowned.. "Their dogs and cats, 
and pigs and chickens were sacrificed by
investigators. Couldn't have been them,
they were all clean.."

"Those animals are also young species.
None older than a few hundred thousand
years. Domesticated genetic lines. They
can't be our hosts."

Dr. Brackett had finished a toxicology
series on Marco's blood samples and
looked up when Dr. Taylor and Dr. 
Macpherson showed up in front of
his work station. "Any progress..?" 
he asked.

"Retrovirus.. Zoonotically transmitted.
Our unknown is showing marked Shepherd's
Crook pleomorphism and resistance to
enzymatic lipase breakdown.."

Dr. Brackett's eyes squinted and he blinked
in reaction. "A retrovirus? I thought those
were extinct and found only in the fossil 
record."

"Not for some.." Jamie admitted. "The genus
is rare, but can still be found in the wild.
Just like the Listeria strain of cyanobacteria 
is still found in Yellowstone's hotsprings. That
is living despite it being continually poisoned 
by our now oxygen rich atmosphere.."

"Let me take a look at it.." Kel said.

Taylor and MacPherson held out their
hands to him to sit at the stool before the
microscope. "Be my guest.." Taylor
sighed. Then he pulled off his biocontamination
hood. "We don't need these anymore..
This one can't reinfect anyone
without an animal host.."

Jamie concurred, shedding her biosuit 
too. "Totally true.."

"Then the quarantine is unnecessary?"
Dr. Brackett said.

"Completely, doctor.." Steven told Kel.
"Only body fluid precautions are necessary.
Like you would do for any hepatitis or meningitis
patient in one of your wards. Anyone healthy
would be able to easily fight this off."

"Marco wasn't healthy and so he got infected."
Kel realized. "Most likely because he was
burning his candles at both ends helping out
his mother and working fires here. Roy did  
tell us that no one has gotten a lot of
sleep for the last four days.."

"Most certainly.." Jamie agreed. "And we hadn't
been able to see these spirals and hooks until
now, because when we got to the boy,
he was already dead too long to present them
clearly, except in the one splenic blood sample
the forensic doctors managed to obtain.
Your fireman's blood slide, has just made 
our problem crystal clear, doctor.."
  
Brackett caught sight of the deadly,
yet ancient retrovirus on the slide. He
clearly saw the purple staining of the
enzyme lipase chemical that Steven
had added earlier, but the tiny
contagion stubbornly held together in
its spiralled stringed, oddly hooked shape. 
"Frightening. This germ is technically
not alive here. But you're telling me
that it can still reproduce?"

Jamie nodded, agreeing with the hospital
doctor. "Ummhmm. Just by latching
onto any cellular RNA and telling it to
make more retroviral capsules, with its
own RNA, instead of normal stem cells."

"Then what causes the symptoms and
the fever and the bleeding?" Dr. Brackett
wanted to know. 

Jamie said. "I have always hypothesized to
my superiors that retroviruses have a piggyback
contagion living in symbosis inside the spore 
capsule. Each, separated from the other, is harmless,
but together in combination..."

"Deadly and fast.." Dr. Brackett agreed.
Dr. Brackett lifted a handy talkie
wrapped in plastic on the table.

It was linked to both the triage center
outside and to the CDC team working
in the firehouse backyard.
##This is Kelly Brackett inside
Station 51. I'm lifting the quarantine.
There's proof positive on further non 
transmission.##

Dr. MacPherson lifted her own. ##Confirming
the order Atlanta base. We're in the clear.
Bodily fluid protocols restrictions only..##

"How long will it take your people to
use these slide images to identify the 
organism?" Kel said.

"Only as long as it takes to take a polaroid slide
image here and transmit it over TV satellite
to the CDC.. Our specialists will peg this
within minutes if we've seen it before.."


"Then do it.. "

Jamie started laughing..

"What's so funny doctor?" he asked.

"I just learned the best way to do that
doctor and it's even faster than our finest
military.."

"Oh?"

"Use the reporters." she said. "They'll spread
those images like wildfire. And the CDC will get
them seconds after they air.."

"Are you crazy? What about the panic that 
would cause doctor?" Steven said.

"What..." she said dismissively. "You mean the 
earthquake hasn't already accomplished that?
We can just label these pictures X Case Influenza and
they'll be none the wiser.."

Steven started to snicker, too. "Heh. Clever
girl.."

"I'm afraid I don't understand.." Kel Brackett
said at their amused expressions.

"X Case is CDC code for "identify and confirm this".
Doctor Brackett. The word Influenza is bogus.
Jamie wants to add that to make any viewers
think we have just the flu in here to settle them
down."

Kel smiled, too. "I'll go along with that.."

"I'll get right on it.." Jamie said.
Soon, she had a polaroid of the slide
showing the retroorganism stains and
was jogging out the kitchen to
head through the garage and the waiting
press milling about outside for the
ten o'clock news broadcast about to
go on the air. 

A minute later, she was back.

Dr. Brackett turned back to
Steven Taylor.."Uh, doctor, in your 
theory, what's the best way to treat 
retroviral hemorrhagic fevers?"

"Aggressive fluid management. I've
tested Idouroxidine, an anti-tumor
medication, against bacteriophage of
this virulence...and I've had good
results.." Steven suggested.

Jamie immediately countered. 
"That's against bacteriophage
Taylor, not retroviruses. No one's
ever seen an active retroviral
epidemic before.."


Brackett silenced her with a growl.
"Not until now.. I'm willing to try
anything.. Marco Lopez's too
unstable to wait any longer on
a solution.. Even if it's just a temporary
one.. He and seven others in Mexico
are counting on us to help them now.
Even if it's just a shot in the dark!"

Jamie sighed, but let her colleague 
continue advising Dr. Brackett.

"I'd try 150 mg IV QID for starters.
That might arrest the synergistic
bacteria in operation with the 
retrovirus's cellular division.."
Steve said.

Kel nodded his head, remembering
something. "I have some already 
here. One of my senior paramedics 
had an unknown Asian Virus last year 
and I still had some viable doses
available. I included them in that 
field bag you advised me to pack."

"You know these injections will be
stop gag at best.." Jamie said.

Dr. Brackett washed his hands in
the kitchen sink and dried them in
a sterile towel. "I know.. But until
we learn the animal who's the principle
carrier from which to isolate an anti-viral 
serum, slowing down Marco's deterioration 
that way's the only hope we've got.."

Suddenly, Chet's face peered through the 
kitchen door. His eyes got real big when
he saw that the two microbiologist
physicians were out of their containment
suits. He  shoved aside the door and
said. "Hey, Dr. Brackett. You'd better
get in here.. Marco was conscious for
bit and talking.. Roy says he's still
that way and only dozing.."

"There's our chance to find out
more clues about that carrier. Marco
must have seen something down
there that was new in his house animal
wise.." Kel said, grabbing his HT for 
a reply from the outside. 

The news story delivering the image of Marco's 
germ to the whole state began to air.

And Roy kept his promise by freaking
out the reporters by leaning and waving
from the station bunk house doorway
so that his family and kids could see him.

"Anyone wanna take bets on how
quick the CDC will call on our answer?"
Dr. Brackett said, gathering his gear
and moving back to Marco's side.

"No bets.." Steven said..

Chet was only puzzled when he 
overheard that little exchange.

Then he started laughing when
the camera man jumped back
two feet when Roy pretended a
fake sneeze into his direction.

---------------------------------------


Dr. Brackett and Drs. Taylor and
MacPherson all crowded around
Marco's bed. 

Gil and Brice both backed out of the
way.

Craig said. "Ah, progress.. The quarantine's
been lifted.." 

Gil looked at him as if he sprung a third
eyeball. Brice merely tugged on his own
sleeve to show his unbeliever that Jamie and
Steven were now out of their biosuits
completely.

Gil caught on to that fact readily and accepted
it eagerly.  He knelt by Kel, telling him how 
long Marco had been conscious and how 
coherent he had been during those brief moments.

Kel noticed Lopez was indeed, sleeping. He gently
shook his shoulders. "Marco. Marco
Lopez. It's Dr. Brackett. I need to ask
you some questions about your family's
home in Mexico.. Marco.. Can you hear me?"

Cap jolted awake in his chair but then fell
to listening when he realized an important
discussion was about to take place.

Chet joined him, crouching at his side.

Marco's face finally animated and screwed
up into an immediate liquidy cough that
he barely managed to clear away in between
breaths under his oxygen mask.
His eyes opened fuzzily. "Brack--?
Am I out yet??"

"Not yet. Marco. Listen. This is very very
critical that you hear me and answer as
best at you can.." As he spoke, Marco's 
head sagged again into a half state.

"Marco!! Front and center!!" Cap shouted. 

"Whaa? Inspection day already? Yessir!!" Lopez
blurted out in sudden reaction. He started
to give a mock salute but he couldn't lift
his arm up all the way.. but his eyes snapped
into a brighter wakefulness.

Cap grinned and added more. "Just
listen carefully, Lopez. This is not an inspection
but a Q and A test. Reply to the doctors
here as best you can."

"A-all right. I'll get 100 %. I- I..don't want..
latrine detail agai---.... ohhh.."

"Marco. Concentrate.." Kel urged.

" t.......ryingggggg.." he sighed.

Jamie leaned in close to Marco's ear.
"Mr. Lopez.. When you arrived to
your family villa in Mexico. Were there 
any new pets the kids were playing with?.. 
Anything strange or new?"

"Pets?  B- Bernado te gusta jovan gatos
y..."

"En Inglez,.. Marco.." Cap said.

"Oh...hhhh uh, Bernardo likes kittens.
Always new ones from the vineyards..."

Jamie and Steven shook their heads.
"Marco. Marco. How about something
from the hills.. Something not domesticated.
A mammal of some kind.."

"Mama senora,.. ella es loco que se manana
con el Diablos Rojos en la cielo noche porque ellos
come en su flores..!" Marco wailed in his
fever, still not very coherent..

"What?" Taylor exclaimed at the apparent
spanish gibberish..

Chet said, straining to understand. "Wait a
minute. Wait a minute.. I think I understand
a bit.. Marco and I have a bet running that
I can learn enough spanish to impress
his mama by fall to win a complete,
homecooked--"

"Chet! Now's not the time..!" Cap roared.

"Ok, ok, ok... Uh.. I think he said that the
Donya Arana or the head woman in his 
household was going crazy that morning 
because of "red devils" from the night sky 
eating in her garden.."

"Red devils from the sky?" Jamie frowned.

Then Taylor clinched it.. "Bats.. 
Can't be anything else.. Specifically,
Flying foxes!!
They are all over Mexico. There's our
sentinel anim---" he leaped up for the
phone to reach his superiors in triumph..

Jamie leaned in to Marco as her colleague
rapidly got into action with their team in
Atlanta and those outside the station house.
"Tell me more about the Red Devils.."

"Que? No comprendo....." Marco sighed
as he fever tossed on his pillow.

Jamie threw up her hands in frustration.

Chet coughed and in very bad Spanish
asked, "Hablas mas pero Diablos
Rojos. Nosotros tenemos muchas preguntas. 
Es muy importante Marco.."

Cap even knew what that meant.
"I'll say we have many important
questions.. Lopez.. Stay with us!"

Marco began to shout, delirious.
"Todos muerte! No vive no mas
en la noche. Bernardo traes uno
a mi Tija.. Soy Triste.!!! Bernardo!!"
Lopez repeated his moaning words. 
Over and over..

Chet blinked in stress as he translated
shakily.. "He keeps saying they're all
dead. That they were no longer alive
by nightfall. That the boy gave a bat
to his Aunt after it had died to show her?
Now, he's blaming himself.."

Marco's tirades continued until Dr. Brackett
finally sedated him and turned him onto
his side to rest.  Jamie MacPherson
started up on the Idouroxidine injection
into his IV after Kel had gone on to examine
Gage's status.

Roy returned from his tormenting the
reporters and said. "Man, I wonder who
gave them that germ photo? Doctor...
did you--?"

"Yes, Mr. DeSoto we did.." Jamie said,
gesturing for Brice to take another BP on
Marco. "It was an end to a means.."

"W-wait a minute. Did you find your answers?
You're both out of your biocontamination suits.
That's great. Must be if the quarantine is lifted.."
Roy said happily, folding his arms.
"So why didn't you tell the reporters that too?"
 
Chet snapped. "Because it isn't over
yet ! Yes, we learned what it is and where its
came from.. But the serum that Marco's going to
need comes from bats, Flying Foxes, according to
one of the docs here. Now tell me how in 
the world are we going to find the right ones
in Mexico from the middle of a city fringe 
jungle rainforest in time to save him, eh?"

Roy's face fell into lines deeper than the San
Andreas Fault. "We can always hope, Chet.."

Jamie MacPherson looked up with a large
degree of doubt locked onto her face.

Then the phone rang. Both the one in the kitchen
lab and the one on the bunk house desk.

Jamie and Brice both leaped for it.

She was faster.
"Dr. MacPherson.. in LACoF station 51.."
Everyone held their breaths when her face
proved it was Atlanta on the line.
She listened for a while then...
"I understand sir.. I- I 'll get right on it..
Yes, mobilize the Mexico City team to
collect the vineyard specimens.. Our victim
says the dead boy played with some in
the garden in the days before he fell ill.
As you heard from Dr. Taylor, they are
very probably our sentinel animal species.
Oh, and chief.. We need one taken alive
and sent here. I need to extract a blood
serum from it.."

She set the phone down shakily and sank
into a chair at the desk by the battery operated
lantern. Gil came over and
set a hand on her arm. "You ok?"

"Yes.. I- I just am a little stunned about 
the finding. We have a name for the
contagion in our files.."

Steven Taylor came from the station's
yard and from briefing the team outside.
He saw the look on Jamie's face and
Gil crouched near her offering her coffee
and he asked. "Jamie.. What is it?"

"Steve, it's Grade Four Marburg..
Boss's just confirmed it."

"Ohhhh..no. I'm so sorry..We're too late." 
Dr. Taylor sighed, leaning against 
the wall in defeat.

Dr. Brackett was less than gentle.
"Ok. What's Marburg..?"

Jamie,s lips worked mechanically.
"Marburg.. Theorized RetroViral Infection.
Three known live cases recognized world wide
in 1975.. Incubation period of 5-10 days, 
onset of the disease: sudden.  Marked by 
fever, chills, headache, and myalgia. Fifth 
day after onset of symptoms, a maculopapular 
rash, most prominent on the trunk may occur. 
Nausea, vomiting, chest pain, sore throat, 
abdominal pain, diarrhea then may appear. 
Symptoms become increasingly severe and 
may include jaundice, inflammation of the 
pancreas, severe weight loss, delirium, shock, 
liver failure, massive hemorrhaging, and 
multi-organ dysfunction."  

Her last fact came in a whisper..
"No known cure.. All three reported cases
were....100% ....Fatalities...."

A stunned silence filled the darkened
bunk room.

Chet's face twitched in denial.. 
"No way.. no way, man.. Not Marco.
No way in h*ll!!"

Cap got to his feet and ripped off his nasal
cannula. "Kelly, now getting upset isn't
going to help matters any.."

Kelly's face was a mask of torture and
deep, deep emotional pain. It sullied his
fine boned features, making a mockery of 
them. "I don't care anymore Cap! We ...
have taken.....just about all we can here! 
And so have I. Look at us.. "  he said flinging 
his arms wide.
"Just look at us, Cap! Johnny
was almost crushed today, so was the engine
and squad. Miss Thorne over there was
almost gassed to death. You almost
bought it, too! And most of us here in one
way or another.. Bonnie, too, for Pete's 
sake."

He started pacing and kicked over an 
empty water jug in his frustration and 
rage.. "I'm sick of this whole thing!
Being stuck here, watching things deteriorate
like this. So just take it back, Cap.,, the whole 
g*dd*mned unlucky deck of cards we've 
been dealt over the last four days!! Cap, 
just make it go away. We gotta all return to 
base, we gotta all get some sleep, we gotta 
all be ready for a fresh start all together again,
by wake up tone time.."

Cap started to move forward..
"Chet...." he said softly. ."I would if
I could pal.. Y- you know that.."

Chet screwed his eyes shut and tears
flooded out."Ah, man..... not  Marco..pleeaaasseee
not him.. It's just not fair.." and he started 
to cry, sagging down the wall by Marco's 
head. He reached out and caressed Lopez's 
hair with a hand, sobbing. His wracking cries
panged everyone listening and soon,
Cindy rose to speak quietly with Chet 
where he knelt on the floor.

She said.....

 
--------------------------------

Photo : Cap looking very very small.

Photo : Marburg Retrovirus slide.

Photo: Chet peeking through the kitchen 
           door in fear.

***************************** 
From:  "Cory Anda" <andacory@hotmail.com> 
Date:  Tue Nov 5, 2002  11:31 pm
Subject:  Panacea...
 

"Mr. Kelly. Listen to me. Things aren't all lost.
Not yet. Marco's still alive. And of everyone here,
I've seen none who've hovered more often
in concern and caring, than you. Things look
dark. But if you've hit bottom, then there's no
where else to go but up, is there?"

Chet didn't pay any attention to her, his face
still buried in Marco's hair.

Then quiet, calm Mike Stoker said something
very profound. "100% fatalities.." he mumbled.
"I just can't believe that at all. They're just words..."

"What?" Chet said, looking up at his engineer
coworker, wiping his red eyes and face with
an arm.

"They're just words.. All of them. That complete
phone call from Atlanta. That Marburg report.
Dry. Dispassionate. Just facts. How can we trust 
its end-all be-all credibility?" Mike said, thoughtfully.

Miss Thorne began to smile. "There was
never a thesis or report born that ever
escaped revision. Mike Stoker, you're 
beautiful!" And she kissed him full on 
the cheek. 

She went rushing off to find Dr. Taylor
and Dr. MacPherson.

Chet's eyes immediately dried up
into another emotion, one of jealousy.
"Hey, how come you get all the chicks
kissing you? Stoker, did you tell her it was 
you who revived her in the yard?"

Mike said, "Nope. No one ever told her 
that she had even quit breathing." 
Then he rubbed some knuckles on 
his shirt's badge,"Maybe she just likes the
quiet rugged type of fireman.. eh?"

"Yeah?" Chet said, more like himself.
"Well, how about a fireman who's not
afraid to show his emotions openly.."

Cap piped up with a grin.. "Well, then,
everyone in the room here today would
be unbeatable Cassanovas now wouldn't
they,  Kelly, if that were true. No, Chet, I think 
it was something Stoker said that gave 
Cindy Thorne an idea on another matter."

"What do you think it was?" Kelly said,
fussing with Marco's blankets.

"Don't know. Does it look like I have
an answer to everything..?" Cap
muttered.

"Absolutely.."
"Yes."
"Yes.."
"Yep.." Roy, Gil, Brice and Chet all said
to him.

"Very funny. I think I'll quit my day job
and become a mountain guru and charge
people for my answers.."

"Just don't sit on the wrong mountain.
You may just get shaken off by another
earthquake.." Roy kidded.

"Oh, yes.. Now there's one answer even I
wish I had. I wonder what's happening
out there?" and Captain Stanley lifted his
HT to his mouth. "Station Eight, this
is Engine 51. Got an update for us? It's
almost daybreak. Your station still light
on a few hands..?"

Gil, Roy and Chet and Brice all waved  in
protest and frantic denial, anticipating
that Cap was actually going to have them
reassigned to outside disaster detail because
of the lifted quarantine. They all shook their
heads rapidly and made all sorts of negative
signs to silently block such a captain's action.

##This is Stone. Hank? We heard. The 
quarantine's over.  Good going. Rooting for
ya. Yeah, we're light staffed but upstate 
companies and crews are on their way to 
relieve us, even the Pasadena FD's on their 
way.##

"Oh,..uh....just checking to see how you 
were. Captain Stanley out.." 

##10-4, Engine 51.##

Captain Stanley parked the HT onto one knee
and levelled a look of "this better be good."
at his men.

Chet voiced their excuse perfectly. 
"Didn't I hear a particular fire house
captain among us say that a firecrew
doesn't abandon one of their own?"

"Yep.." Roy and Mike said at the same time.

Cap just harrumphed and got up
to turn off his own oxygen tank sitting
by his feet. "Man, I'm hungry.. Did they
give us some chow here anywhere?"

Three arms pointed to a nondescript
crate by the water cooler. 

"Oh, thanks.. Smelled the soup, Stoker
made Cindy earlier. Anything else to
go with it..?" Cap said, rubbing his
stomach.

"Does it look like we had time to even
think about food? Some of us haven't
even slept yet.." Roy said without sting.

"Yeah, well. I was walking wounded there
DeSoto. And I'm a glowing testament to 
your paramedic skills if I got my appetite back. 
right. Now,..who'd like some soup and whatever 
else I can scrounge up? Hmmm?" Cap asked.

Three sets of hands rose instantly..

"Fine.. I'm assigning myself chow detail 
for the day since I'm not cleared to captain
anything yet. Just called me Cook if you
want anything sooner.." he joked.

And he moved off to get his men, and 
everyone else able to eat and drink, 
some hot meals.

--------------------------------

Cindy was talking fast with Dr. MacPherson
and Dr. Taylor. She was actually getting on
their nerves with questions and nagging
for details about Marco's bug. 
".....so, your people have seen three cases
like his..That's interesting. Hhmm. What I mean
is..How truly were those cases like our situation? 
Were they in Mexico, away from professional help
and treatments?
I find it hard to believe that a bug like
the Marburg would be singularly lumped in
with Ebola, and Hanta and other virulent
strains on a whim just based on a pathology
report.."

Jamie MacPherson slammed down her file onto
the table and she finally faced the teacher
standing before her. "Listen,..Miss Thorne.
My colleague and I have been trying to work
around your prattling for the last five minutes.
Now I draw the line on a civilian who's a little
nervous when that same civilian accuses me
and my organization of not doing a proper job."

"No offense meant, doctor.." Miss Thorne said
genuinely.. "I'm just trying to plug for answers
on behalf of a firehouse full of frightened 
firefighters who are sitting on the edge of their 
wits because an earthquake jarred them out of
their normal lives like a bull in the china shop!
I'm a teacher, and teachers question everything.
Makes me very practical and worldly for my
students if I'm absolutely certain of where
I stand with any one subject. So I'm not questioning
anyone's credibility here nor the CDC's tactics.. 
I'm only digging for a wider view.. 
Since when has any paper on a contagion written by
someone else, ever stopped YOU from pushing
the envelope..?"

Steven actually smiled as he continued making
test slides of Marco's blood to find an effective
dose of Idouroxidine to slow the Marburg's
meiosis. "She's got you there, Jamie. Let see,
you bucked heads with boss, what... seven times
already this year on various subject matters??"
he poked.

"Ohhh..." she huffed. "Stop ganging up on me,
Steven Taylor. All right.. " Jamie said, dropping
her work and snatching up Johnny's pot of
luke warm coffee from the table. She poured
out the plaster dust that was floating on its
liquidy surface and grabbed a mug from the 
cupboard.

Changing her mind, she grabbed three of
them. And started pouring.. "Ok,..You got my full
attention Miss Thorne. And Steven's.. I always
claim that I have an open mind across professions,
so here's putting the money where my mouth is.
So, shoot. What questions do you have about our
poor sick fireman and his dead little cousin?
I'll answer anything that isn't classified material.."

Miss Thorne wasted no time. "The Red Devils..
Were they present for your other three Marburg
victims? Did you know about them..?"

Jamie's face registered respect and a little
surprise that Cindy went right to the heart of the
same thought that had been nagging in her own
mind ever since Marco's astounding account
of them. "What??" she gasped.

A sudden fax from a battery generator run
machine across the room, bleeped
and came to life by the microscope. It got
all of their attentions when it lit up with a
transmission.  

Steven walked over to it and waited for
the sending to complete. "Wow, the main
phone lines are up in the neighborhood.
That was fast.. Italy's last quake took
a week to reestablish full land line telephone
service.."

"Like our firemen, " Miss Thorne sighed.
"Our phone and power companies are the best in
the country. They'd have to be, being under
the gun of earthquakes all the time in our
state.."

Steven snatched up the still warm sending
from Atlanta.. "This is from Mexico.. Forensic
photos of the vineyard.. "

"Let me see.." Jamie said, taking one and
moving over to the dawn's rising light by
the kitchen window. Natural debris settling
in the night had freed up some daylight there.
"They're all adult bats.. No juveniles.."

Steven looked up from another fresh report
from the Mexico CDC team. "No fatalities as
yet. Those seven are still holding. These 
vitals sets seem to be matching Marco's so far.."

Cindy walked over to Jamie, and handed her
the cup of tepid coffee the doctor had left
behind on the table.. "Here.. May I see
that?"

"Huh.. ?" Jamie said, from a long distance
away.. "Yeah. Sure.." and she saw the cup
Cindy was handing her.." Thanks.."

"No problem.."  Miss Thorne delicately took
the color photo showing the decaying bats in
the vineyard  lying on the ground in the
Lopez garden, and immediately noticed
something.. "Doctor...."

"Yeah?"  Cindy said, looking at aerial 
photos of the Lopez villa and the surrounding
streets leading up into the mountains surrounding
the city..

"Tell me something..I'm no bat expert here.
But aren't all of these bats here males? I don't
see any sienna furred females with them..
One of my students did a report on Flying Foxes
last week and I clearly remember there being
color shade distinctions between the sexes..."

"What?!" MacPherson shouted. She grabbed 
the vineyard photo back and peered at it
with a hastily snatched magnifying glass.
Then she gasped and placed a hand on her
mouth. "Steven!! Get over here.."

"What is it? " Dr. Taylor shouted, running over
to them from the other side of
the room, he stripped off his latex gloves and
tossed them into a disposal bin near
the microscope.. "I'm coming. I'm coming.."

"Look.. Miss Thorne's noticed something
about the bats. They're all males.."

Dr. Taylor blanched. "Sex specific etiology
on the Marburg host? Ohmy.." and he
ran once more for the phone directly linked
with Atlanta..

"Miss Thorne.. I love you.." Jamie said,
excited. "Steven and I were so busy wallowing
in self pity about that standing report on Marburg
that we didn't see new alternatives... Thankyou
Thankyou Thankyou..." 

"What did I just set off? " Cindy said, genuinely
puzzled..

"Mammals first milk. Full of antibodies
that transmit to their babies in the first twenty four
hours following birth.. The female Flying Foxes must
have the ability to shake off Marburg to the extent
of being able to survive long enough to transmit
their immunity to their young. That's why the Marburg
plagues of the past didn't make the species extinct! 
They've had millions of years to adapt to each other.."

"You mean, you won't have to wait for one
of the Marburg victims to fight off the infection
on their own to get a serum?"

"No.. For that serum's already been made..
In the female bats of that stricken colony!"

--------------------------------------------

Steven was on the phone with his boss.
"That's right sir.  Find a gravid female
near parturition. Isolate her mammarian
pre-lactate and I'll just bet Marburg antibodies
are there. They have to be. There were
only dead adult males on the photos you
sent us.."

Dr. Taylor had three others on the California
team listening in on other phones too so
they were being appraised same as Boss
was.  "Yes sir.. No, don't send your samples
to me.. Send us the bat herself.. Or better, 
yet, send several.. This antibody might 
need a living metabolism to stay viable.. 
Make sure they're due to birth their young
within the next half day.. Yes sir,.. I'll let
LAX and the air force jet unit assigned to us,
know. Thank you sir.. What was that?
It was a civilian who pointed this out to us.
She's a teacher who was caught in the
earthquake here in the firehouse. Yes, I'll
get her name for you. And sir, make a rush
on this.. The fireman's nearly critical.." 
and Taylor hung up the phone..

He was almost dizzy with happiness about
the possible Marburg Achilles heel by the time
he rushed back into the bunkroom to tell
the waiting firemen and paramedics about
their serendipitous discovery through Miss 
Cindy Thorne.

------------------------------------

Dr. Brackett was all grins as he flew 
through waking Johnny, out of his shocky
sleep. "Hey.. Johnny... Rise and shine.
The sun's already getting up. So should you."

Gage coughed and he felt Dr. Brackett
remove his oxygen as he blearily awoke.
"What.. did I miss something important?
Marco ok?"

"Yes, and not yet.. I'll tell you more
while we eat.."

Johnny was immediately serious and he let
Dr. Brackett sit him up and hand him
some soup and jelly sandwiches that
Cap had made for them both.

Soon, Johnny knew about the rare Marburg
epidemic and the new potential cure for it
so ironically discovered by Miss Thorne.
"Teachers are smart. I'll admit that.." he
grinned. Then his face fell. "So, will they
manage to isolate some mother flying 
foxes in time before Marco...uh.."

"There's every chance.. Dr. Taylor told
me they have air force jets scrambling just
for us to get some here.."

"Those plague bats are coming here?"
Johnny said, chipmunk cheeked.
He suddenly lost his appetite and
set down his once bitten sandwich.

"Something the matter with your 
sandwich? Shouldn't be with a fire
department Captain on the chowline."

"No.. just not hungry.. I hate bats.."

Arfff!!

Gage smiled down at Bonnie.
"Seems she agrees with me..."
he said absently scratching her
head as she lay in his stokes. 
"Here you go, darling.. Have some.."
and he fed her his sandwich, piece
by piece. The ravenous Yorky nearly ate
his fingers. "Ow.." But he was grinning.


"You have to eat, Johnny, Or I'll have
Brice start up another D5W IV on you."

"I'll eat. I'll eat.. Just.. ..gimme that soup
bowl. I'll work on that.."

Dr. Brackett gave Gage the piping hot
tomato soup thermos from the tray.
"All of it or it's Brice over here in five minutes."

Johnny glowered, but drank every drop.
Then he set down his bowl and leaned 
in confidentially. "Say listen, doc. The
other guys have been keeping me in
the dark about Marco's true condition.
Don't you think I should have the right
to be in on that? I am a paramedic after
all."

"And I am a doctor, surprise surprise. 
They aren't telling you on my orders, 
Johnny. It's a clear cut case of doctor
/patient confidentiality. Roy, Brice and 
Gil are the attending medics, you 
shouldn't have to have that excess burden
of worry.."

"It's no burden Dr. Brackett. He's my friend.
And ..and ..and .. I just wanna know how he
is...that's all.."

"He's alive.. The tones on his EKG should be
telling you that. And that, is all you need to know.."
Kel said, finishing his food and rising to attend
his next exam of Marco.

"That' great doc. Just great..!" Johnny said 
sarcastically. But inwardly, he knew Kel was
right.  

Captain Stanley made an announcement following
their meal. "Listen all, we're not needed in the
disaster station outside, but even though the
official quarantine is over, all of us have to stick 
close to base for an innoculation once one
is isolated all right? Miss Thorne, I'm sorry but
that means even you'll have to spend another 
day in the station house."

"That's ok. I've already talked to my family
and they understand. They saw the news 
broadcast last night.."

"Good deal. The water's running so we'll have
hot showers for now or later. I suggest we all get
some sleep. Gil, Roy, Brice.. Dr. Brackett has
asked for me to get a schedule from you three
about sitting up with Marco. Who's first?"

Johnny raised his hand but Cap pointedly
pretended he was invisible to the role call.

Roy got the first two hour watch over Marco.

"Wake me the first sign of trouble, Roy.."
Dr. Brackett said. He stretched out onto
one of the beds near the phone opposite
Marco. "And Gil, I want to know if the biophones
are working yet to Rampart. I'm out of
the loop as far as emergency earthquake
cases go, but I'll sleep better if I know Dixie
isn't drowning in them over there."

"Got it doc.. I'll do a check right now.."
he replied.

Gil dragged over the biophone and began a 
test rescue call. "Rampart, this is Squad 8 with
frequencies check. How do you read?"

While Gil waited for a reply, Brice, Miss Thorne,
Cap, Jamie and Steven all found sleeping bags
or beds to lie down upon.   The five of them
were asleep in moments.

Gil got his communications check from 
Dixie herself and he, too, nodded off on
a portable cot. 

Roy watched over them all protectively.

Even the sounds of the ongoing recovery and
rescue operations outside didn't wake them.

All through the morning and into the afternoon,
the outside attending firecrews made sure no 
harm befell those sleeping inside the crumbled 
Station 51 firehouse and it became something
of a jealous superstition to go HT silent within 
sixty yards of their darkened bunkhouse.

-------

Craig Brice spelled Roy three hours later.
"How is he?"

"About the same. I've only had to suction out
his airway once. The EOA went in an hour ago.
But he's still breathing. Watch that.
He's in no need of atropine anytime soon. His 
pressure's holding so far.. Eighty systolic. 
But he's nearly unresponsive to the O2 now."

"But he's still fighting this fever.." Craig said, 
trying to be encouraging. Then he noticed the 
mast trousers Roy had inflated only around
Marco's legs. His jaw dropped open in surprise.
"You know that the suit's contraindicated with 
pulmonary edema.."

"I know that. But his internal bleeding's begun
already from the virus. Only way I could
get his BP to even register.. Had no choice."

Brice bit his lip thinking, then he finally agreed
with Roy's choice. "Shouldn't harm him much 
then as long as that abdomen compartment 
is left uninflated."

"Glad you agree with me.." Roy said with some
anxiety and a slight hint of anger. His protestation 
was mild at best.

Brice actually smiled ....kindly..
"Get some sleep, DeSoto. I've got him now..
And I won't tell Brackett what you did. I'll take
the blame if he finds out.."

Roy's face registered amazement.
"You don't have to do that.."

"Yes I do. This is saving Lopez's life so the
least I can do is save you from an inquiry. 
Brackett knows I'm already a stickler
for protocol. Breaking that image he has of
me on that for the first time will undoubtedly 
keep him from having it out with me officially 
until all this is over. Who knows, even then, 
he may not even remember the mast suit 
thing."

"Thanks, Brice..."

"Anytime,..........Roy.."

Roy blinked. It was the first time Brice had
used his first name ever. And it actually felt
genuine. "See you after Gil's watch.."

"See you then.."

Roy took his time lying down and
for a long time, the rising sun and stress
kept him from fully relaxing..

But then, it was Bonnie and Johnny's snores that
finally gave him surrease into an exhausted
slumber.

Hours past. 

Then...........

 -----------------------------------

   Photo : Brice close in squad.

   Photo : Cap down, surrounded by gear.

   Photo : A flying fox bat..

    Gif:  Biohazard warning symbol.

    Photo:  Dr. Jamie MacPherson working
               in a biosuit with the Marburg virus.

   Photo : Electron microscope image
               of the Marburg Virus.

   Photo : Roy and Johnny sleeping the sleep
               of the dead, late at night.
 
********************************
From : "patti keiper" <pattik1@hotmail.com>  
Subject : [EmergencyTheaterLive] Ripples....  
Date : Sun, 10 Nov 2002 06:41:44 +0000  
 
There was a creaking. A calculated sound of
cotton socked feet hitting tiled floor.

Brice heard a hasty shush and a subdued whining
from Bonnie behind his back. But he didn't turn
around until Johnny Gage had tiptoed almost
to the desk to where Marco's chart lay.
He imagined the precise moment when
Gage's hand connected with the metal
of its surface..

Then he snaked out his own hand without
looking and let loose.

Smack!

"Oww... " Johnny hastily whispered, angry.
"Whatdidya do that for?" He said rubbing his
reddening guilty hand.

Craig turned around on his stool and placed
his stethoscope around his neck from where
he sat next to a feverishly sleeping Marco.
"It seems to me that you don't listen very
well to your attending physician orders,
Gage.."

"Whatdiya mean I don't listen?.. I'm one of
the best paramedics Brackett's got. And unlike
some people I know around here, I've never
been written up.." and he pointed two sets
of index fingers at the deeply snoring Roy,
still lying under the brightening afternoon sun 
peeking through the holes in the roof.
"I was just trying to..you know.. get a better 
feeling about Marco,.. you know..really put
a finger on the pulse so to speak.."  He tried
to do exactly that and was rewarded with
another stinging slap on his good hand
for even trying to get near Lopez tactilely.

"Hey!!"
Johnny sat on the second stool and tucked 
his hand in between his knees to ease 
its smarting. "Now cut that out ! Geez..
I'd wonder if your kids aren't deathly afraid of
you by now in any discipline situations of yours 
and your old lady's at your house. You could break 
some bones doing what you just did to me." He said
sucking on his now twice throbbing hand.

"We never have discipline problems with our
children, Gage.." Brice said, still smiling
cooly and very self assured from where
he was checking out Marco's breath sounds
around the EOA tube. "Unlike you, they respect
authority..Everything is precisely orchestrated 
and everyone knows what is expected of them 
to do at any given time."

"You know, Brice.. Of that I have NO doubts.."
Johnny threaded his own IV bag tubing 
from around his legs and hooked it onto his badge
to keep it higher than his cath's entry site.  
He also loosen his uniform shirt a tad. It still had 
dirt and blood all over it. He made his way into the 
darkened locker room and rummaged around until
he found a clean one from his own quake opened
locker and replaced it, unbuttoning and buttoning
it one handed. He was stubborn enough to
not ask for help from Craig. Finally, he said.
"You know what your problem is, Brice?"

"No..but I can count on you enlightening me
on the subject.." Brice grinned closed mouth.

"You're just too d*mned.......right all the time.
I DID have no business sneaking up and reading
Marco's status chart. But man, it's been eating
me up only knowing part of the story.."
he said indignantly throwing a hand at Marco's
fluctuating EKG strip. The PVC's were back.
"He could be throwing those because of
a fluid loss intravascularly. And look, even
his I.V. site and blood draw sites are beginning
to hemorrhage on their own. He's got to
be losing clotting factors by the pound.. "

"I noticed that, too, Gage. But Roy's taken steps
here with these Military Anti-Shock Trousers."

That took Gage back, "He whaa?"

"Went around authority again and used them 
without the attending MD's order.." Brice said,
this time without  a grin.  "And I am going
to take responsibility for it when the time comes.."

Johnny was thoroughly taken aback.
"Wait a minute. Wait a minute.. Roy uses questionable
protocol and you're BACKing him UP?"

"Of course. The patient was going to perfuse less
than optimally without them so I saw no reason
to deny him the choice.."

Johnny had a hard time believing his ears.
"You mean you're going to stick out your
neck...for my partner?"

"That's what firemen do, Gage.."

"But we're not in a fire.." he said, a puzzled
look on his face. It was rankling him that
Brice was looking more and more altruistic
and less and less like a rule tyrant.

"That's correct." Brice said. 

Johnny squinted his eyes in suspicion at 
Brice and didn't say anything more while
he tried to wrap his brain around the concept
of Brice actually taking a fall for another.
::It just doesn't compute..:: he thought
as he walked over to the food cooler for
a sandwich. His appetite had returned, almost
as voracious as the pain in his stitched up
hand. He grimaced slightly when lowering it
below his waist made it throb.

Craig didn't miss the symptom.
"Dr. Brackett told me to awaken him
if there were any problems so I'll.."
and he shook Brackett's shoulder
before Johnny could stop him. "get
him to look at you.."

"Brice.. Wait a minute we have to
orchestrate the whole mast suit
thing fir--- Hi doc, uh,.. Marco's ok.
At least I think he is.. You see, Craig
here saw me bump my hand and..
uh, It's ...it's nothing really, about
me, I mean.."

Dr. Brackett was already upright on
the cot and he grabbed Johnny's arm
and did a capillary refill check on
his effected fingers. At the same
time, he was studying Johnny's face.
"Uh huh..." he said skeptically. "So
that's why your pallor's matching
the color of your T-shirt eh? You know
better than to let shock promoting
conditions go untreated. And that
hand of yours has got to be putting
out some serious pain.." Dr. Brackett
said. "Time we medicated you.."

"No, doc.." Johnny started up.
"That's not necessary.. I'm fine..
I .. I ..I just got up to...." and he
hastily stopped himself from saying
he got up to visit Marco's medical
records. "Because I saw Brice had
put him into ma--" Again Gage cut himself
off.. "never mind.." he added quickly.

Kel didn't look up from the shot he was
preparing for Johnny. "See? You're
not even able to complete a whole
sentence. Johnny, I'd wish you'd show
a little bit more good judgement for
your own benefit. So far, I've had
to protect you from yourself twice.
Brice here's cool under fire as usual."

Johnny's face fell at the words,
"show good judgement" and he almost
went apoplectic. "Wait a minute, doc.
I've been the perfect angel through
this whole earthquake thing. I only
get a little devil horned about my patients."

"You mean about MY patients.." Kel
said crossing his arms no nonsense.
"You haven't been on duty since this
time yesterday. The second you took
a header into that cave-in, you turned
from Paramedic to Patient.. and into
my demenses with me as your doctor. 
Now argue the fact and this pain med's 
gonna be IM instead of IV..." He finished, at
a firm grumble.

"Ok,.. Ok.. Just.. watch him good huh?
Can't sleep a wink worrying about him."
Gage said, handing over his D5W bag.
"And don't you go slipping a sedative 
into there or I'm gonna wake up later 
more ornery than y--"  Again Gage bit 
his tongue.

Brackett glared and Gage withered
sheepishly.

Johnny really tried to be obedient, but 
then his eyes strayed to the mast suit's 
dial. "Hey Brice.. It's slipped a few psi in 
the left leg. Here let me just--"

"Ah ah ah!" Dr. Brackett held up an admonishing
finger, the meperidine syringe in between his
teeth as he cleaned Gage's IV tubing
with an alcohol pad. "Not another peep.."

Gage moused down, and sat down.

Satisfied, Dr. Brackett finished his injection
into Johnny's I.V. and then moved on to exam 
Marco thoroughly. "Brice, I assume the real reason
you woke me is this return of the arrythmias."

Craig nodded. "That among other things.."
he said, shooting a look at Gage as he
pushed up his glasses onto his face.

Johnny hung his head down in defeat
and sighed heavily in annoyance. Already
he could feel relief from his hand's stabbing
and he fought the med's grogginess rising 
up. ::If I can't help out, I'm gonna at
least watch. I'll sleep next week.:: he
decided. His lurid sleepies washed away.

Dr. Brackett took a pinch of Marco's skin
and noticed the fold he created didn't 
settle flat again. "He's dehydrated. And I'll
just bet his hematocrit's sky high. Brice,
D/C the Lactated Ringers for another of 
Normal Saline. His pulmonary fluid is less marked. 
I won't have acidosis set in from having 
an I.V. the wrong chemistry. He's now a 
circulation poor case.." Dr. Brackett 
flinched when just touching Marco's
eye lids for a pupillary check, brought 
trails of blood from his tear ducts.
He grunted in surprise.

"He's bleeding from all the I.V. sites, too. 
Nothing yet from his GI, and there's been 
no vomiting indications at all."
Craig nodded. 

"Good. Hang in there, Lopez." Brackett grinned
"You're a fighter.." Then Kel asked his next 
question, glancing over  his shoulder. 
"Gage. What's Marco's blood type?
We're gonna need to transfuse him. Dr.
MacPherson told me that this illness
causes consumptive coagulopathy big
time."

Johnny blinked.. "It's destroying his blood
platelet counts?"

"Yes. "

"A +.  I can get a few units off Roy and
Chet. They are his blood type."

"Then there's something I'll actually 
let you do.." Dr. Brackett ordered. 
"Get on it."

Brice was curious. "Why the free flow
hemorrhaging here, Dr. Brackett? I've 
never seen a fever syndrome do this 
before.."

"Dr. Taylor surmises that the Marburg
uses blood splattering through its victim's
convulsions as a mode of host to host
transmission like the common cold uses
sneezing.. This surface hemorrhaging is
just the first stages." he said. He drew
up heparin from his drug box, a loading
dose of 2,000 IU. "Craig..  Who thought of
using the trousers? Good call."

Brice didn't deign to reply and he tactfully
let the moment slide.

Kel gave the blood stabilizer into the Normal
Saline IV. Then started a piggyback IV
of more into the bag and secured it with a
bright orange heparin label.
"I want this heparin loading continued over
the next twenty four hours. 10,000 IU's a day.
It'll slow the platelet loss until we get
the whole blood running into him from
the other firemen..And I want him urinary
cath'd. I want to know an exact renal output."

"Right.." Craig said.

Meanwhile..
Johnny was the perfect vampire. He 
sat quietly by Chet where he was snoring
on the bed and pinned down the sleeping man's
arm with a long board chin strap to the bed 
frames. Then he got his vein presenting with
a tourniquet and started up a line,
running the catheter's flow into a collection 
bottle. "How much should I draw out, doc?"

Chet was so exhausted that he didn't even
wake at all at Johnny's ministrations.

"To first tolerance point. Say, 750 CC. Kelly's
not injured so we'll go high. Get the 
same from Roy.." Kel suggested.

"1500 CC's isn't going to last Marco long."

"By then, we'll have our new supply
from the triage station outside." he said,
looking towards the desk where Craig
Brice was quietly ordering some from 
Captain Stone over his HT so he wouldn't
disturb the sleepers in the room.

Johnny got his half liter whole blood
from Chet and withdrew the catheter.
He handed it off to Dr. Brackett who
immediately began giving it to Marco.

Gage, patted Chet's cheek.
"Thanks Kelly.. Sweet dreams.."
he sniffed, leaving a bottle of 7up 
by his head. "You're gonna wake up
thirsty but it's for a h*ll of a good
cause." Reacting to an evil streak of
humor, he scribbled on the bandaid 
over the cotton wad in Kelly's
arm crook. "The Phantom was here.."
he whispered and drew a smiley face 
with fangs with an I.V. marker.

Johnny shifted over to his partner
and got as far as touching him when
DeSoto stirred awake. "Sorry.. I
need to get some whole blood from
ya for Marco. His platelet count's
taking a nosedive. Hold still." he 
whispered.

Roy grunted, still very sleepy.
Then he said. "All right." and he
held his arm still, blearily watching
Johnny raise and stick a vein.
"More blood coming on the way?"

"Yeah. Chet provided the first bottle.
Brice is getting additional supplies from 
the triage station outside.." Johnny said, 
taping off the collection tube and mating its
business end into the vacuum bottle he 
had set onto the floor. "You're gonna 
be a 750." The crimson flow began 
to fill it up rapidly.

"Make it 850. I'm a big boy.."

"Our secret.." Gage said without smiling.
"Here.. " and he tossed another 7up bottle
at Roy and left him to nap while the transfusion
bottle filled. Roy was fast asleep before he
could set the pop onto the table next to himself.
Johnny left him cradling it.

------------------------------


From the stokes Johnny had been using the night
before, Bonnie began to moan.

"Oh, I don't like the sound of that..."
Gage said.

He, Brice and Dr. Brackett barely had time
to secure Marco and all his I.V.'s when
another earthquake aftershock shook
the firehouse.

Dust cascaded from the ceiling in white
powdered trails and everyone was jerked
awake by Bonnie's frantic barking as
the tremor continued.

It wasn't a severe one but it was long
lasting and jolting enough to wake absolutely
everybody past all hope of a return to 
napping. Even in the emotionally worn out 
Chet.

All the HTs on the night desk erupted into
frantic communications as individual
fire companies checked in with damage
reports and new developments in
the disaster scene outside.

The earthquake died away.

It was immediately followed with the tones
for a four alarm fire emergency through
the HT lines.

Captain Stanley was on his feet and
running for the shattered garage door, hanging
onto his I.V. before anyone could intercept
him. He pelted outside, but got instantly
winded before he even got halfway down the
driveway so he skidded to a halt, hanging onto 
the battered LaFrance's driver mirror and waited 
as Captain Stone rendevous'ed with him at a 
dead run. "How bad is it? I heard the alarm 
tones go off." Hank asked.
Then he sucked in his breath when L.A. 
identified the address of the new alarm call
through his radio. 

"Yep. It's Arco, the refinery across the street.
A pipe line has been ruptured. There's no
telling when a side fire will set it off. I've
got my men and half the assignments 
here not dealing with casualties, responding."
Stone informed him.

Cap's eyes shot across the triage tent strewn
boulevard and he squinted into the mid afternoon 
sun.

All seemed normal over there. Until he saw
a curl of steam rising from a natural gas spire
where it shouldn't have been. "Oh, man." he
groaned, sitting on the runner board of his
battered engine. "If only I had a functional
crew, I'd get my men in there.."

Stone grinned cockeyed. "Sit back and enjoy
the show. And don't even think about leaving
the driveway. I told Peters to slap handcuffs on
you the moment your feet touch the road."
he joked.

"Oh really.." Hank said, grinning back. "Well,
don't think I'll be going anywhere anytime soon.
I've got four mother hens hovering over me
constantly. Oh look, there's the worst one
coming now.."

Brice appeared in the doorway, at a run,
making sure that Cap hadn't done anything
stupid like dash off with a responding engine
company. He stood next to Stone 
and wiggled gimme fingers at Cap to give 
him his I.V. arm. "Let me D/C that, Cap.."

Hank didn't understand at first what Brice
meant until Stone pointed down to the I.V. 
bag and tubing still in Hank's grip. "oh.. sorry,
Brice. Just a little distracted here.
There's a hotspot at Arco across the street."

"I know. We all heard it on HT frequencies." 
Craig pulled out Hank's I.V. cath and bandaged 
the site. "If you're gonna be in public view. Look
the part, Cap.." and he tossed Cap his overcoat
and helmet. "Leave my sight, and I'll come after
you.." he said.

"Scout's honor.." Hank said, rubbing the itchy
ache where the I.V. had been. "My head's fine
for your reference."

"Yeah? It may feel fine for the moment. 
Just wait until your shot wears off." Craig
said seriously.

Cap's face fell at that prediction
and it remained while the two captains
watched a worried Brice jog back into the sadly
crumpled station 51.

"So that's your story.. What about your man
Marco?"

"It's bad, Ben. It's some kind of bleeding fever
called the Marburg Retrovirus. Overheard the
CDC docs clutching at straws and ordering
their team in Mexico to secure female
bats of all things. Seems they might have a 
natural serum to this thing in their mother's
milk."

"Air Force in on that?"

"I suppose so." Cap said.

"I'll keep an eye out for a convoy conveying
them here.. Anything else you need?"

From seemingly right beside their feet, Brice's 
voice boomed out. "A + whole blood!
Remember, Captain Stone? Step on it..!"

Stone and Stanley both looked around in
amazement that they were hearing Craig's 
voice outside when they looked down and 
saw an HT on the engine's runner behind 
them, set to two way intercom. 

Hank grumbled. "That !.." and he stifled
his explicative. "...mother hen..." he said
between clenched teeth., more softly.

"Tenacious isn't he?" Stone grinned.
"When he monitors a patient, he doesn't
mess around. The guys call him the Tick
for a reason. I'll keep you posted Hank..
And Brice.. I've got techs on the way with
your blood bags.. They'll be there with you
paramedics in five..!"
he said, running across the street and to 
the scene of the Arco Refinery call.

Mike Stoker appeared in full gear at the
doorway. "Cap.. Can I go?"

"D*mn straight you're going..Make
yourself useful. And keep me up on
a detailed report and I do mean detailed.
Get in there.." he ordered, and snatched up
Brice's spying HT. "Here.." he said to Mike
changing its mode back to normal setting.

Stoker grabbed it and took off running after Stone
and joined the stream of firefighters and 
firetrucks, entering the refinery's grounds.

Cap was left behind in the bright sunlight,
wearing a groove in the driveway in front
of his quake dusty engine and squad, as he 
began to pace with worry.

Birds' sweet oblivious songs mingled
with the wailing sirens in his ears and
both sounded vile to Hank.
"Oh, mother of G*d. What next?"

--------------------------------------

Photo::   View through station door of the ARCO refinery.
 
*animated gif*:  Burning flames..

Photo: Chet lying down on a bed.

Photo:  A blood I.V. bag.  

Photo:  Captain Stone.

Photo: Building collapses and smoke.

Photo: Cap at night with HT by laddertruck. 

Photo: Stoker and Chet in the yard. 

Photo: Johnny using his HT. 

*******************************
From : "Cassidy Meyers" <killashandraRey@hotmail.com>  
Subject : [EmergencyTheaterLive] On a Clear Day..  
Date : Mon, 11 Nov 2002 08:52:59 +0400  
 

Offstory-

Acknowledgements to the Modena Intergate
Emergency! Equipment Manifest Website for
the fireman's courier battalion chief car photo.
 

Mike Stoker arrived, and put on his full
SCBA gear as he made his way over to
the white helmeted batallion chief directing
men where he wanted them. He said,
"Stoker, Station 51, Engineer." the moment 
he was in the man's earshot. He was slightly
surprised to see the man was Chief McConnike.

The chief looked at Mike and saw his company
HT. "Take your unit to the west end. Looks
like the pipe rupture is underground, luckily
not under a storage tank. An earthquake
fissure's responsible for the leak indirectly."
The chief wasn't wearing an air bottle, but one
was set near him so he could suck a 
breath or two from its mask lying on
the hood of his truck when he needed to.

Mike Stoker took off his mask when a clearing
wind blew the mirage like fumes wafting around
them away.. "Sir,.. I'm the only one available 
from 51. The quake took out our station house."

The wizened Batallion chief's eyes narrowed
in instant sympathy. "What are you doing 
here, son? We've got more than enough 
man power to handle this.."

Mike grabbed the chief's arm. "Please,
McConnike, don't send me back. Hank 
Stanley's one of those Code I under triage 
watch. He sent me here to keep him up 
on things. It would mean a lot to him and
the other guys if I stayed."

The chief took in a long breath and sighed.
"All right. Let me think. Find a place for you, huh?
I know. Station Eight. They're down one man. 
He's been sent to the airport to collect an 
animal or something for a bunch of 
microbiologists in the area working on a 
bio-yellow alert situation." 

Mike told him more about that. "That's for
us, sir. The animals are bats with a cure for
one of my crewmates."

"Oh? Hadn't heard much about any situation
over on that side of the street..except for 
someone's HT joke about the fuss that Hank 
was raising about losing vehicles in the quake.
Hookraider's got charge over that side of the 
block." McConnike said. "Everyone okay over 
there, son?"

Mike's face went even stonier as he hid his fear
for Marco. "For the moment.."

McConnike missed nothing. He knew the
battle waging inside Stoker better than
he cared to admit.  Finally, he looked
up and met Mike's eyes.
"All right. I usually don't let lone crew 
work a scene but if it's for Hank, I'll allow
anything. Gotta show him no hard feelings
for that hat stunt he did as a probie."

"Huh..?"

"Never mind, son. Get at it.. Round off
Captain Stone's crew and head on in.."

"Right.." and Mike put on his SCBA mask
again and used his HT to find where Captain 
Stone's crew was stationed around the leak. 
"Thank you, Chief.." he waved to the older
man.  He got a heartfelt sendoff salute in
return.

Mike got to Stone's side two minutes later,
after being pointed in the right direction by
crews already on the job assessing the problem.
Ben was deep in plans of the refinery with
a team of plant engineers. When there
was a pause in orders, Mike stepped forward.
"Captain. I'm a fill-in. Stoker, engineer,
for Station 51." he shouted to him through
the breathing mask.

"Drop the formalities, Mike. I already know who
you are. Everybody on my crew knows each
man in your stationhouse intimately.
We've been watching over your scene for
almost a day now, making sure nothing else
went wrong and we were the ones who went
over your building to ensure its structural safety." 
Ben said, shouting loudly to be heard through his 
own SCBA gear.
"Now, I want you to familiarize yourself with
what we got..  Two of my men say underneath
that natural gas tower spire is where the ground fissure
began. It's still settling in areas and that's how
a fireman on inspection found it. His truck literally
fell into it last tremor.. That is what ruptured the
pipeline."

Mike Stoker squinted up through his facemask's
plexiglass into the sunlight and saw three huge 
storage tanks full of petroleum ringing them in a
triangle and a water cooling facility, networked
over their heads, tying the three tanks together
into a complicated lattice of ductwork and piping, 
where the blue sky wasn't showing.  Hastily 
thrown yellow cones had been placed beneath
the open area, showing the newly discovered
patches of ground instability. From the 
fissure, rising steam rose into the air and it smelled 
pungently of natural gas indicator even through 
his airmask's filter.

The earthquake fissure had snaked its way under 
two large coolant water pipes, just missing the 
edge of concrete that was the bed for one of 
the oil storage reservoirs.  ::Great, it's 
surrounded by three giant powder kegs.:: 
Mike thought gloomily.

The place where the trapped battalion firetruck 
stuck front end down into the ground, was being 
liberally foamed and washed down to keep all 
possibility of fire from occurring. Dust was still 
mingling with the steam from the fissure as earth 
and debris settled restlessly around the aggressive 
hose wash playing down into it. 

Stoker turned to Stone. "Your man got out 
of that truck, ok? " he shouted over the noise
of steam and shouts of firecrews giving and
carrying out orders.

"Yeah, he leaped out the window the second
he smelled gas and luckily managed to fight
his way out of the growing sinkhole.
  
He says our problem's a transverse pipe break 
through the mother line leading from
tank two here, clean, but entirely severed through." 
Stone replied. "It's the pooling gas that I'm primarily 
concerned about right now. Arco's engineers are 
already passively diverting all the gas out of this 
nearest substation in prep for a manual 
shutdown to this broken pipe. It's gonna take a 
bit. Even though the master valve at the top of 
this stack has been shut down, gravity will still 
cause the rest of the gas from that storage tank 
to drain out  through the break. I'd say it's leaking 
around 200 gallons a minute into the ground.
The capacity of that secondary gas holding tank
coming from the larger one, is around 
250,000 gallons total. Now the facility
designers assure me that none of this gas will 
leak into the water table because an artificial catch 
barrier lies underneath this whole refinery complex. 
It was designed that way for just this kind of 
scenario."

"Is the power off?" Mike said.

"Yeah. Been so, since the first quake. All the shutdowns
the refinery workers have been doing have been
done by hand. Work's taking six times longer 
than normal to carry out their shutdown procedures.. 
That detail is the only thing keeping us from 
getting this scene under control as fast as anticipated."

"Where do you want me?" 

"Take a front inch and a half with Stubbs. Then
you'll get a better feel for things for that report
to your captain. Keep your air bottle on. The wind's
not strong enough to keep down these fumes.."
Stone said, readjusting his helmet over his mask.

"Yes, sir.." Stoker replied, rechecking the straps
on his own bottle to be sure they were securely
fastened.

He ran over through the fire repellent foam and over
to the first hose team playing a covering wash over
the downed truck and the downhill side of the fissure.
He tapped the trailing man's shoulder and took his 
place. The departing man gave Mike a thumbs up
when he recognized the Station 51 engineer and
gave him an affectionate thump on the back of
his overcoat.

Mike grinned, feeling protected and awed once
again at the comaraderie shared between their
district stations, drawn closer together, in the 
face of adversity.::And I don't even know him.::

He and others continued to fan a soup of
gas hostile chemicals and water through their
fire engine hoses into the fissure.

Dimly, through the spray of water, Mike could
see refinery workers scrambling like ants all
over the piping station over his head, turning 
off valve after valve, in a desperate attempt 
to curb the leaking gas below.  

In between a fire engine chemical trade off 
to their water line, Mike thumbed his HT and 
spoke to Cap. "Station 51, This is Engine 51.."

Cap was on instantly. ##Go ahead Engine 51.##

"Cap. An FD vehicle falling into a ground sink caused
the pipe break. It's foamed and being washed.
But the danger of at least 250,000 gallons of natural
gas getting into the ground still exists because
the power outtages are effecting mechanized
system shutdowns.. Fumes are moderate and blowing
down wind away from the boulevard's triage area and 
you." he shouted through his faceplate.

##Casualities?##

"None so far.. And Cap, on a side note.. 
A man's been sent to the airport for the bats.."

##That's good news.. Watch your back, Stoker.
Thanks for the report.##

Mike Stoker got a go ahead gesture from the new
engine's engineer to charge the hose once
more to continue their task. "Gotta go, Cap.
Let me know what happens over there ASAP."

##We will, pal.. Station 51 out.##

Cap's eyes were glued to the west and towards
the refinery. "Be careful, Stoker. Even fumes are
enough for a spark to ignite." he mumbled
to himself.

------------------------------------------

Roy and the others in the bunk house were
all awake and on their feet.

Chet was right there by Marco as usual
and he shivered, "Man.." he said, "..am I
cold. Anyone got a blanket?"

Kel Brackett tossed him one, smiling.

Kelly bundled himself up inside of it
and crossed his arms together to
warm himself when a finger snagged
on the cotton wad and bandaid Gage 
had left secured to his arm. 
"Hey.. What's this?" He immediately 
recognized the creator of the sinister
smiley face drawn there.
"Gage..!" he began. 

Johnny was showing Miss Thorne 
where to find shower things and
a T shirt and jeans to replace her
own dirty dress.  "Be right there,
Chet.." he shouted back from the
locker room.

Dr. Brackett  added, "Before you
go ripping into your crewmate about
another Phantom strike. Blame me.
I ordered him to take blood from you
for Marco."

Roy was just smiling where he was
draining the last of his 7up bottle
dry. "Got me, too, Chet. Didn't even
feel it." and he pointed to his own
cotton wadded bandaid.

Chet's eyes flickered to the wall 
above Marco's bed and saw the
blood bag hanging there. "You mean
that's my blood hanging up there
going into him?"

"Yeah.." Roy said. He wondered if
Chet was going to work himself into
a faint over it all. He started nearer.

But Chet's face widened into an amazing
smile and he said, "Far out.. we're blood
brothers, man. We're REALLY family now,
know what I mean?  Real tight like forever."

Roy smiled shyly at Kelly's sense of wonder
at a simple medical marvel. 

Johnny stepped into the room, closing
the locker room door to give Cindy some 
privacy to shower and change. "Not
forever Chet, only for about two weeks,
until Marco's spleen and bone marrow
makes more whole blood to replace yours
and Roy's."

Chet's face soured a bit, but the twinkle
didn't go out of his eyes. "I'm not going
to let you burst my bubble, pal. What
I did, is saving his life, man. That's cool."

Johnny was about to say it was he who
gathered the blood donation and Brackett
who actually completed the transfusion
but he hushed down, settling for a
secondary Chet tease idea. "Hey Chet,
I know you're cold because I drained 
out all your blood. Bet you're real thirsty
too. Here, have a pop.."

Chet reached for it, and Johnny jerked it away,
holding it over his head, making the shorter
curly haired fireman grab for it unsuccessfully.
"Come on, Chet. You can do better than that.
Can't you?" And he tossed it to Roy without
looking for him first, trying to get his partner
in on a monkey in the middle game.  

Roy didn't go along with it and tossed the 7up to
Chet anyway. "Johnny. Ease up. Let him 
bask in the transfusion thing. It IS kinda cool."

"Yeah?" Johnny said, helping the teeth chattering
Chet open the 7 up bottle. "Well, I don't need
to exchange blood with anybody to know
who my brothers are. In this station, we
are all brothers. Tied just as deep in the blood 
as we are as a company's crew because of
what we do here."  He offered Chet half of
his jelly sandwich.

"Amen to that, Gage.." Chet said.  Then
he looked up, feeling that someone was
missing. "Hey,.. where's Stoker?"

Cap entered the bunk room just then 
with a followup about the Arco call going
on across the street. "It's official, a natural
gas ground seep. A big one underway.
Mike says it was a fire truck inspector's
vehicle that landed on the pipeline during
the last trembler, which shattered it."

"Anyone hurt over there?" Gil asked. "You
can send Roy, Brice or me if you'd like.
I've slept enough."

"No, Stoker says that man got outta
there ok.. Sounded like he's been put
on a front wash down. He didn't sound
overly nervous. Seemed like everything's
under control. Oh, and he says the bats
are here. A crewman from Eight's has been
sent to go get them.."

Drs. Taylor and MacPherson both sighed
in relief. "That was fast. This is all new 
territory for us about this female mother
bat immunity theory, but even that chance
is better than we would have had even with
immune plasma transfusions from the victims
who've survived Marburg."

Miss Thorne came out dressed in the clothes
Johnny had provided and her head
was wrapped in a towel. "I'm out.. Who's
next..?"

"Me.." Chet said. "I gotta warm up somehow.."
And he shivered, rushing around Cindy in his blanket,
clutching his soda in his other hand. On 
a thought, he ripped off his smiley face bandaid 
and stuck it onto Johnny's forehead with 
exaggerated deliberance, with a firm smack. 
"Here. I believe this fangy guy belongs to you.. 
I know I don't need him anymore."
And he grinned as he disappeared behind the
steamed up wooden door.

The guys sniggered as Gage was left to  
pull it off along with a bit of hair.
"Oww.."

Arff!

Johnny knew an amused doggy bark when he
heard one. "Quit laughing, Bonnie. No
more sandwiches for you girl if you
keep that up..."

Roy pointed to his arm. "Want mine
to?" he said, pointing to his bandaid.
"Still needs an artist's signature."

"Ha ha.. very funny.." Gage said.

Dr. Brackett looked up from Marco's
EKG. He had taken a gamble and had
pumped up the last chamber on Lopez's
mast suit to its top level.  The PVC's
were gone. He was smiling when he
got up to recheck Cap. "Johnny, grab
one last vitals set on Captain Stanley
here would you? And I don't think
you need your I.V. anymore while you're
at it, too, Gage. You've finally pinked up."

"Thank you doc.." he said, joyfully
pulling out his I.V. 

Roy was right there to put on his 
bandaid. "Welcome back to duty,
Johnny."

"You have no idea....." Gage gushed,
patting the table for Cap to sit on
for a blood pressure check. He exuberantly
wrapped it around Cap's arm and pumped
it up with style.

Cap said. "Hey, am I next to be
off medical leave?"

"Give it until nightfall, captain.."
Dr. Brackett said. "I usually watch
black out concussion cases for at 
least twelve hours after the initial 
injury."

Cap was crestfallen but compliant.
He sat still, letting Gage take his
BP. "Good enough for me. Maybe
that gas leak at Arco will be over
by then. One less headache for me
to worry about.." and he laughed
at his own joke.

An HT crackled to life on the desk.
##Station Eight Firewatch to Station
51.."##

Cap was still encumbered by a BP
cuff, so Brice took up the call.
"Go ahead Station Eight FW."

##This is Engineer Manney.
I got three squeaking little friends 
with ASAP shipping orders that I'm to 
give to you, priority run. I'm almost 
there. I'm just up the boulevard 
rounding the refinery. My ETA is 
one minute.##


"That's great to hear. We'll
be waiting. The CDC lab docs
are eager to get their hands on em."
Brice said. "We'll watch for your
vehicle."

Everyone in the room started 
cheering at the good news.

-------------------------------------

Over by the refinery, Mike Stoker noticed
a feeling of something not right. He again
glanced up above him and saw nothing
amiss. But an unfounded instinct made him 
look back towards the boulevard in front
of his demolished station. Then a movement
and a glint caught his eyes through his air 
mask, near the refinery's entrance next to 
Station 51. 

The lighted natural gas chimney antennae
tower where the steam had been
rising, suddenly groaned in tortured
metal and shuddered. Four hundred 
feet of solid metal and pipes suddenly gave 
way at the base, like a felled tree, from 
a hidden structural rend no one had seen.

Soon after, the entire antennae spire 
began to fall towards the boulevard and 
the triage tents.

Mike dropped the hose and went running
out of the water's spray and jerked his
handy talkie to his mouth. "Everybody
heads up!!! Falling antennae tower!!!!"

---------------------

Inside the firewatch fire department
truck, Engineer Manney was whistling, 
imitating his bats' animated calls distractedly.
Then he began humming the theme to Batman
the series in a live ongoing patch to
Station 51's desk HTs in an attempt
to cheer them further with his imminent
arrival. "Not long now, Robin. Just a 
short trip in the batmobil--"

A sudden unexpected shadow over the road 
ahead of him made him look up.

Manney screeched into an evasive turn to 
avoid the writhing crown of the refinery tower
as it crashed down, blocking the
entire road immediately in front of him. 

Massive pipes bounced free from the 
impact along the tower's crushed flanks 
and a huge oil cap ten feet in diameter 
suddenly richochetted off an empty civilian 
car's hood, rolling in his direction.

Manney slammed into reverse, trying
to avoid the crushing multi ton disk when the 
the second spire of the tower landed 
directly on top of his truck. The fireman 
had time to scream before more blocks 
of debris from the collapsing tower 
finally crushed in his windshield and 
ripped into his face.

-----------------------------

Chet had rejoined his celebrating
crewmates, the doctors and Miss Thorne,
feeling much better after his hot
soaking. He had just cracked his sodden
towel at Johnny's butt when Mike's 
frantic yell reached them.

All heads snapped up in the station
and everyone's smiles evaporated.
 
"What?!" Cap and everyone ran to
the doorway, just in time to feel a
great shuddering crunch impact
less than a sixth of the way down 
the block almost immediately to
the left of the garage's driveway. 

They ducked when metal railing shards 
began to rain down in the garage bay
and onto them.

Simultaneously.. they heard Manney,
the courier firefighter's batman themed
whistling break off into a scream. 
There was another sharp heavy noise over 
his frequency and the sound of squealing
tires.. then nothing but static when
the second half of the tower's
top hit concrete.

Cap snatched up Manney's HT
and Mike's.  "Stoker! Manney!
Sound off!!"
  His heart was thudding wildly as
he ran out into the street with
the others into the cloud of
dust left behind from the tower's
impact onto the road. Cap coughed
trying to see signs of any mangled 
tents or trapped people. 

There were none of either that he could see.
"Roy! Johnny! Gil!  Brice! Get in there!
Chet, stay with Marco!"

Then he started casting about for
other signs of danger. Dr. Brackett
burst through a cloud of dust
and he joined Captain Stanley in
searching the area. "Doctor, Stay by
my side..No way in h*ll are we safe
in this debris field." Cap ordered. "Keep 
within each other's earshot.
Let my men search FOR you..They know
what dangers to look out for.."

The two rescuers began to be joined 
by stunned but unharmed triage doctors,
nurses and patients answering their shouts.

Soon, it became clear that only a few
might have been harmed; the two not
answering hails.

Again Cap lifted his HT. "Stoker!
Manney!! Report!!"

---------------------------------

Photo : :   Johnny takes Cap's BP 

Photo : The ARCO Refinery
            showing smoke and damage. 

Photo: Roy and Johnny wearing mask 
           apparatuses by the engine. 

Photo: ARCO workers shutting down
           the gas leak. 

Photo: A fire engine at the refinery. 

Photo: A rescue squad
           spotlighting through dust for survivors. 

Photo: Manney's borrowed battalion chief's car, 
           lying empty. 

Photo: A Flying Fox female bat.   

***************************** 
From : "patti keiper" <pattik1@hotmail.com>  
Subject : [EmergencyTheaterLive] Breath of Life...  
Date : Thu, 14 Nov 2002 20:32:54 +0000  
 
Offstory-

Acknowledgements to the  Nexxie's E Site
http://www.nexxie.owns1.com/index.html
For Episode Screengrabs


Back In Story--

He was met with nothing but silence 
over his hand held. Cap let out a cry
of frustration and he cast about for
Roy and Johnny visually, making sweeps
under the choking dust and debris.
::Where's the d*mned Santa Anas
 when you need them? I can't see a 
thing!..::  Stubborn morning stillness
remained.  He directed triage personnel
to leave the area with their patients
all the while getting information in
snatches from them as they ran past.
It was confirmed. No civilians were hurt.
"Roy! Gage!" Captain Stanley called out
loudly.

"Yeah Cap?" Johnny shouted, appearing
as a ghost out of the dusty gloom,running
as he pushed aside metal debris and 
wiring from the remains of the fallen
tower.

"So far, no one's in trouble. See if you
can birdeye Manney's car. I'll get people
on Stoker's end. They're not answering 
hails."

Johnny said, "No wait, Cap. Uh, Stone 
and his men can do that. I really think he's ok. 
The way he was describing his scene earlier
makes me believe they are on the other 
side of the refinery grounds, Cap."

Just then, Mike came over the channel.
##L.A. Station 8 and Engine 51. Still here.##

Cap sighed. "Ok...., Gage. Let's move.
Manney said he was about a minute
away from the station. If he had been
coming from the airport, his vehicle 
would most likely be to the north."

Gage, Roy and Cap all looked north.
A huge pile of tower and metal debris
lay tangled, fifteen feet high across
the boulevard, almost concealing
the roadway lanes. The dust began to 
settle. Then Johnny saw red metal.
"There he is!"

Cap got on his talkie.
"L.A. This is station 51. Advise area units 
we have a man down in front of the 
stationhouse trapped in an FD vehicle. 
Send for immediate assistance.."

##10-4, 51.##

Cap only dimly heard L.A. find a company
to respond to his incident.

Johnny, Cap and Roy went running,
jumping over poles and pipes and
ducking under sheeting until they
wormed their way deep inside the
fallen skeleton of the refinery antennae
tower. Gage quickly ran to the front of
the red fire department battalion car.
All of its windows were shattered and
spiderwebbed and they couldn't see
inside.  Gage cracked open the clearest
passenger side door window with
his helmet as a battering ram.
"Manney??"

A loud squeaking erupted at his call
and something brown burst into his 
face and clambored out the window 
in a leap in prep to wing away.
"Ahhh!!" Gage yelled in surprise.
"It's one of the bats! Get her!!"

The angry flying fox didn't fly,
for one of her wings lay mangled at
her side. She hissed until Roy
captured her and bundled her up
into his overcoat and he set it onto
the ground. He weighed down the coat
edges with debris to hold her captive.

Johnny grimaced as he crawled
around the partially crushed aircrate
and he saw one more large dead
bat lying across the seat. He shoved 
her to the floor to get to Manney.
"Manney.. Can you you hear me?"
He said struggling to get further inside
the car to the front seat. All the
while the remaining flying fox inside
the crate chittered loudly in distress.
"Cap! I can't get to him."
Johnny handed the crate out
to Roy. "Make sure this one doesn't
get away, Roy, it's not injured!"

"How is he?" Roy said, leaning in.

"Don't know yet, this roof's jammed down
tight!" He grunted as he struggled
to get deeper into the car. Finally,
he said. "Check him, Cap..." Gage said,
still fighting to get closer around crumbled
car roof. "I still can't get to him."

Outside, Cap climbed his way to the driver's
door and he, too, cleared away the
shattered glass. He saw that Manney was
out, with his head flopped back over the
car seat, his helmet off.  

Cap felt Manney's neck for a pulse.
His heart just about leaped and his
eyes almost refused to see the blue
tinge to the fireman's skin.
"Oh man.. Move him! Move him..! No
carotid."

Somehow, together, Johnny, Roy and 
Cap got him free and they stretched
him out onto the street, moving their
victim as easily as they could to protect his
spine. 

Johnny began mouth to mouth.

"Get the gear!" Roy shouted to
Dr. Brackett, Brice and Gil running their way
down the road. "He's asystole!" Roy
shouted as he began chest compressions 
after tearing Manney's shirt open down to 
skin. 

"Got it!!" Kel said."Keep working him.."

In between breaths, Johnny noticed an 
ugly spreading bruise over Manney's heart. 
"Could be out ........because of this blow 
.........to the chest. Cap, check his pupils!"
he said tossing his penlight to him.

Cap checked. 
"They're reactive..Thank g*d."

"All right, brownie points..........for us.."
Johnny grunted, as he continued to breathe
for Manney. "About time something went 
right.." 

Roy paused as he repositioned his hands
for better CPR. "Doc, I'm not feeling any
broken ribs here.."

"Better and better.." the doc replied,
as he and Gil got the defibrillator charged
and ready.  "Move, I'm going Epinephrine, 
IC.." he told DeSoto.

Cap got out the resuscitator
and began using it to free up Johnny.

Roy gel-ed an EOA and at Brackett's
affirming nod, inserted it into place,
reconnecting Cap's ventilation valve
to it.

Brackett drew out the six inch syringe
and drove it deep, releasing the stimulant
into Manney's left cardiac ventricle.
"All right. Roy start up again. Gil, get
an I.V. going, D5W Wide open. 
Follow up with one amp sodium bicarb.
Gage, give me the paddles.. Brice, 
get an Isoproterenol Drip set up. If he's truly
cardiac trauma-ed, the beat's gonna be
slow.  He'll need that drip to maintain once 
he converts."

Gage called out the wattage coming off
the defibrillator. "Ok, one....two..three...
four hundred watt seconds.."

"Clear!" Brackett shouted.

Manney's body leaped from the energy
jolt delivered. Kel quickly replaced the
paddles. A rhythm revealed like something
out of a dream on the scope. Sinus tach.

"Got him back.. Nice work, all.. Captain Stanley,
start hyperventilating him. We gotta make
up for lost time." Kel ordered.

Cap doubled his venting time rate.
"Moving to twenty a minute."

As Manney's circulation recovered, Roy 
noticed something. "Doc, look. Manney's
neck veins are distending bilaterally.."

Dr. Brackett looked up from where
he was listening to Manney's irregular
heartbeat and breath sounds. "There's
our reason for finding him without a pulse."

Brice piped up, "Cardiac tamponade.."

"Yeah, but his EKG's looking good. It's
solid. I don't think it has advanced that
far yet."

"Gonna evac?" Roy asked.

"No, I'm gonna leave well enough alone.
If his perfusion drops off I'll consider a
heart centesis, but not now." Kel said.
Dr. Brackett nodded when Manney began
to breathe on his own under his hands.

Johnny's attention turned to the bats.
The one was still leaping frantically around
the crate mesh and the other one, too, 
under Roy's coat. "We gotta get Manney
and them to the stationhouse.."

Cap comm'd out. "This is Station 51. 
We need a stokes and two additional
men to move a victim. Our 10-20's
at....." he looked up to see which building
front lay in the street.. "Stoffer's Warehouse
by the newspaper stand.."

##10-4, 51. This is Stone. Got assigned your 
call. I've rerouted Stoker and some of my men to 
your scene. I'll be meeting you there myself!##

Cap could hear the worry and concern in
his co-captain's voice. ::Man, he sounds
like me about Marco..::

Soon, Manney was taped and longboarded, 
I.V. secured and EKG linked, inside the stokes 
Johnny had secured from his station squad's
rear store.

He stopped Kel as they all got back
to the station in an entourage of
crew. "Doc. Should we even bring him
in here with that virus going on?"

Kel grinned with amusement. "Sure.
Why not? We've got Batman's
universal antitode now, don't we?"
he said, tossing a hand at the two
men carrying in the two screeching
bats.

Jamie and Steven met them on the
run. "Good. Hand them to us.."
And Jamie took the coat with the wounded
bat, gingerly, while her colleague got 
the crated one. "D*mn, this one's 
bleeding. She might not be ok for
us t--"

Something dropped out from under Roy's
coat and onto her boots. A newly ejected
bat fetus. 

"There it is then, this one will do us no 
good anymore. She's just aborted."
Then the microbiologist's head snapped
around. "Wait a minute, where's the third
one.."

"It's dead." Johnny replied. "Crushed.."

Jamie MacPherson sucked in her breath
in stress.
"Let's just hope this last bat's intact or
there's absolutely no hope for us.." 
Steven said. 

The two CDC scientists disappeared into
the kitchen lab with the crated bat
to start work collecting her milk antibodies.

Bonnie noticed the dead young bat right
away. She wandered over to it and
sniffed it, crying. She wrapped around it
protectively as if to warm it.

Gage made a disgusted face. 
"Bonnie..no.." and he knelt to dispose of
it into Jamie's pathology cryo container.

Bonnie would not be denied. She
went rushing off to the kitchen to
be with the other, still expectant female
bat.

Manney was moved next to Marco.

Miss Thorne got to her feet. 
"Oh, is he all right?" she started up.

Chet Kelly pointed to the fireman's
EKG monitor. "He is now. That's a 
good rate going there.."

Then he looked sheepish when all
the medics glanced at him. 

Johnny was frank. "He's right. Manney's
gonna be fine. He's got some
heart bruising from hitting the dashboard
but Dr. Brackett thinks the injury is
minor. We'll know more when he
wakes up.."

Miss Thorne moved to sit by Manney's
side.

Gage noticed and leaned into Roy.
"Dedicated little thing, isn't she?"

"Know any teachers who aren't?"
DeSoto rejoined.
He left Johnny pondering that as
he moved to check up on Marco.

Stoker came rushing in the door.
"Things are stable at the refinery.. No
fire. How are things in here? Got
here as fast as I could.."

Cap smiled. "Things are ok. Manney
was pulseless for a while but the
doc says he wasn't apneic long
enough to do serious damage. And we
still have one viable bat left out of the 
three. Cross your fingers.."

Mike crossed them, both hands, and
the toes in his boots. "Anything I 
can do?"

"Not a thing. But, stick around.."
Cap ordered. "You...might like to
stay a while.." and he tossed his
head at the group of four medics
clustered over Marco. Cap knew
a dire sign when he saw it. 

Mike blinked. "Uh,, ok..I think I
will.." and he sat in a chair to
watch and worry along with Stanley.

Dr. Brackett eyed his paramedics.
"Marco's quit breathing. Someone
bag him."

"Got it.." Brice said, getting an ambu
with a full flow line running to him.

Dr. Brackett looked up. 
"Now it's a race gentlemen.
Can we keep Marco going long
enough until that serum's ready?
How long can we keep up breathing
for him like this manually?"

"Forever man. We'll spell each other."
Chet said with serious conviction.
"When that ambu's O2 runs out, we'll
positive pressure vent him on Eight's O2, and when 
that runs out, we'll still be able to take
turns with us on a cannula, going mouth to 
mouth from what's left of our engine's 
O2."

Kel face was serious but he smiled
at Chet's self sacrificing mentality. 
"That last option is a last resort. 
I'll have no one directly exposing 
themselves to this Marburg bug unless 
we absolutely have to. We can always 
call the triage station for more O2 and 
maybe they can fly us in a bird ventilator
before that happens."

There was a shout outside, 
"Captain Stanley!"

It was Stone.

Hank said. "I'll be right back.."

He met his colleague outside by
51's engine, and started speaking
before Stone could fall apart.
"Manney's fine. Revived and
resting."

"And your Marco?"

Cap didn't say anything.

But Stone said......

 --------------------------

Photo: Johnny checking out an out
           Manney.

Photo: Johnny giving mouth to mouth.

Photo: Johnny and Captain Stone working
           a code.

Photo : Roy prepping an EOA airway.

Photo : Johnny with defib paddles
             and Roy with a stethoscope.

Photo: Firemen with a gear loaded stokes.

Photo: Chet looking hopeful.

Photo: Captain Stone with his men on Engine 8.

*********************************** 
From:  "Cory Anda" <andacory@hotmail.com> 
Date:  Sat Nov 16, 2002  3:14 am
Subject:  Full Moon Dues

 
"Don't hide anything from me, Hank.
You always clam up when one of
your men gets into a tight corner.
I'm with you. If there's anything I
can do--"

Stanley leaned on the engine, suddenly
weary beyond what he could bear and
he sat down heavily on a hose port.
"Ben,..I- I can't fight this. Not any more.
The whole past two days have been
a h*ll of alot more than I , even as a 
firehouse captain, can take. I -I..  I....
think I've reached my cracking point."
Hank admitted, his face lapsing into
a very vulnerable pall.
"That bug is worse than they were 
letting on. I just left my man in there
on the receiving end of an ambu bag
and there's absolutely not a g*dd*mned 
thing I can do about it to s--" and his voice
choked off.

Ben took off his helmet and set it onto
the engine's foot ledge, and drew Stanley
into a tight embrace. "Hank. You haven't
been a captain unless you care about
your men more than you do yourself.
And I've never seen a finer man for
the job.." Captain Stone released Hank 
giving his arms one last squeeze of 
encouragement.
"He'll be just fine. I've worked with
the CDC people before, during that
Legionaire's crisis of 1970. If Marco's
got a pulse, they can save him." 

Cap tossed his head in disbelief, but
Ben went on. "Now hear me out. I watched
seventeen people come back to this
Jamie MacPherson that one summer,
when by all means, they should have been 
dead. She was right there, at their sides,
not sleeping, hardly eating, face glued to 
the microscope and her spectography gels, 
until she had it licked. She's like a bulldog with 
a rag when it comes to these nastier bugs. So
have faith in her and her colleagues. I know
the methods she uses, works."

"Ben, you don't know the half of it. I heard
Dr. Taylor mention some lean odds about getting
enough serum to turn Lopez around and they
weren't in the double digits. Two of the three 
bats we managed to salvage from Manney's
vehicle are dead or nearly so. "  Cap caught
himself when he caught Ben's calming supportive
nod and gaze. "Wait a minute. We should be
talking about our jobs here Ben. Not conmiserating
in things that we can't change ourselves."

Stone smiled. "Exactly right. So why worry?"
and his teeth glowed under his dark skin.
"Here, put this back on.." and Stone gave
Hank's captaining helmet back from where
he had recovered it from the driveway.
"You left it behind going into that tower collapse,
while running to save one of MY men. What were
you trying to do? Break our tie of equal numbers
of commendation medals? " and he chuckled.
"No really, McConnike asked me to reinstate you 
to active duty. Said something along the lines of
it being good medicine for the ranks. All of them."

There was a weighed silence as both captains
realized just how much the quake had claimed
of their energy. And both, just shrugged it off
by saying the first thing to come to mind.

"I'd better be getting ..." Cap began.

"...back to work.." Stone completed.

They both laughed, a little more easily after
that.  Cap raised his HT in salute as Stone made
his way across the boulevard back to the triage
station and got a returning, "All's clear." gesture
back.

Stanley took a deep breath and then went
back into the station.

---------------------------------------

It was quiet in the bunk room for the
second night. ::Deja Vu all over again..::
Johnny thought. ::Only this time, Marco's
on borrowed time.::

His good hand ached from squeezing Marco's
bag valved O2. Everyone's did. But no one
complained. Gage looked up at Dr. Brackett
only briefly from watching Gil's ventilations on 
Marco. Johnny was in his usual place of the
last few hours, acting as sentry, vigilant for
signs of gastric distension.
"Doc, any word yet on the chopper with
that respirator yet?"

Kel shook his head. "I'm afraid not, Johnny.
They.....got sidetracked moving out
critical patients." he said reluctantly, knowing
that his senior medic would react.

"Yeah?!" Johnny complained bitterly. "Oh,
really? Since when does saving lives come
down to a decision based on numbers??"
He immediately apologized. "Sorry, Dr. 
Brackett. I'm always edgy when things
get outta hand. Especially when one of
those hands, is mine.." 

"I'm no stranger to red tape either, Johnny.
But with that modified airway I've got in
place, the problems we've been having
with keeping his trachea patent will be 
much less. If his varices hemorrhaging 
gets worse, I can always do a tracheotomy 
around any necrotic swelling."

"And what good will that do?" Johnny spat.
"Marco's got no way of clotting a surgical
incision. He'll just bleed to death afterwards
at an even faster rate!!"

"Johnny....." Gil admonished. "He can hear
you.." he said through clenched lips angrily,
casting pointing eyes down on Lopez from
where he sat, while still keeping the 
ambu's rhythm of breaths regular.


"I know.." he said shortly. "Sorry."
Gage left their sides and headed quickly into 
the kitchen improvised lab and there he sat
into one of the chairs, seething with 
helplessness. 

He wanted solitude. But Chet Kelly
wasn't about to let his running escape succeed.
He gingerly peeked around the skewed door's
window and knocked, still outside the lab.

Jamie MacPherson and Steve Taylor were
oblivious, deep in their work, and neither
heard the two men enter in,  nor talk.

Johnny Gage didn't even look up.
"Leave me alone, Kelly. I'm busy.."

Chet's face split into an angry frown
and he marched right on in, his earlier
respectful shyness evaporating.
"Busy doing what, Johnny? Feeling
sorry for yourself? That rod didn't
skewer you anywhere near your head,
so stop acting like one has. Man, 
even you've told me a million times never to
talk negative around unconscious
victims, so why'd do it in front of Marco?"

"Chet, you don't know what you're talking
about so why don't you just shut--" 
Johnny said sarcastically.

"Now wait just a doggoned minute
here. A lot of people around this station are
expecting the core crew to hold it all together
man. Haven't you realized what's been going
and evolving among us for the past three years?  
The station can't work without you paramedics 
being strong in situations, so just what are 
we supposed to do when you aren't?"  
Chet didn't wait for Gage to reply. 
"The answer is, you don't fall into that trap 
in the first place."

Johnny didn't reply to Chet at all. He just
continued to play with the toy ball one
of the kids had left behind on a dinner plate
and tried to ignore Kelly to the best of
his abilities.

Kelly went on, "Man, don't you know anything?"

Gage didn't rise to Kelly's bait.

Chet was undaunted.
"Ok. All right.. You don't have to say anything
but you're gonna listen to me. ..I'm gonna
let you in on a little secret Gage, a big one.
One that I've never ever told anyone.."

Johnny just tilted his head, not liking his 
lecture at all and he avoided all eye contact
with Chester B.

"I look up to you paramedics more than you
can ever possibly know, Gage."

That made Gage glance up in surprise.

"It's true..." Chet said insistently. "I've
even dreamed of one of these times going
into the paramedic program so I can make 
a difference out there, too, man. 
Like you and Roy do..."

"Come off it, Chet. This is just some dumb
speech you're giving me to cheer--"

"No, listen. I'm very serious.." Chet said
slowly, without blinking, eye to eye with
him.

Johnny was amazed that Chet's stare
didn't waver nor show any hint of 
untruth, his mouth flopped open.

Chet didn't give him time to speak.
"I- I've been watching how you guys
work for years, and it just sickened me
when you folded like a stack of cards just
now, with Marco..on professionalism."  
Chet had been spinning a coffee spoon 
around aimlessly and it spun off the table 
top to land on the linoleum with a loud crash..

Bonnie, near a seated place by the
two bats' confinement, barked, sounding
as if she thought someone was at the 
side station door.

Her mistake made both Johnny and
Chet break out of their mutual funks
and the ironic humor of Bonnie's
innocent reaction, made the two
firemen, finally, laugh hard together,
each breaking up into paroxyms of
uncontrollable mirth.

Johnny spoke, when he recovered
use of his stomach muscles again.
"B-Bet you won't last a week
in the paramedic program.."

Chet spat on his hand.
"Shake on it.. A month's
dish detail.."

Johnny grinned a cockeyed
smile and spat likewise in jest
and they sealed their bet. Then
Johnny's face turned cat with the
canary and he said, "Better count
on buying the rubber gloves, Chet.
Cause you just lost that bet. Brice
is teaching all the principle courses
this year, in the signup program and
he's known for a heavy work load,
hard on study.."  

"He is??" Chet cried out, complaining.
"Aww, man..."

"Whaa..." Johnny said, spreading his
hands wide. "Afraid of a little obstacle?"

"Brice isn't a tiny obstacle Johnny, and
you know it.. The whole station does!"

"Shhh.." Gage jabbed teasely. "He can
hear you..." he said, mocking the very
reason Chet came in to dress down
Johnny to begin with.  Then he sheepishly
admitted. "Thanks for yelling at me about
Marco. I was outta line talking like that.
It's just so,....d*mned frustrating seeing
him dying in pieces.."

Amazingly, one of the microscope lit
backs turned around on a swiveled chair.
It was Jamie. "No one's dying around here
gentlemen, at least, among the humans 
anyway..." and her eyes made Chet
and Johnny notice the cage holding
the wounded bat. Its head was slowing
sinking into the clear impossibly limp 
rictor of lifelessness.

And even Bonnie knew it, she whined
and scampered away from the cage in 
fear at the new lack of warm scent rising 
up.

It was then Kelly and Gage noticed 
that Jamie's face was glinting with wetness
in the dim lighting.

Both firemen rose to be by her instantly.
"What is it?" Johnny asked.

"Are you ok, Dr. MacPherson?" Chet
asked too. "Don't be upset the bat died.
W-We still have the one.. Won't she be
enough?"

"I'm fine.." Jamie sobbed. "I always cry
on occasions like this..." and her tears
turned to a small smile of tired triumph
and she held up a small pressure syringe
of spun lactate proteins. Her grin brightened
hopeful, by leaps. 
     "We did it..!! Mr. Gage, Quickly. 
Go give this to one of the other paramedics
for Marco. It'll take two hands to inject
the serum into his endotrach tube."

Chet and Johnny nearly leaped across the 
lab table to grab the tiny vile of hope.
They both stopped on a dime when 
their jostling almost upset the grip
Jamie had on it. Johnny and Chet both
broke into a "no, after you" routine,...until ..

Dr. Taylor sighed and flipped a coin into
the air.., "Heads for the curly haired 
fireman, Tails for you.."

Heads won.

Chet held the tiny syringe cupped 
in his hands as if it were a fragile egg
and he hastened, with care, back
out to the others. His body was careful,
but his voice was not.. "Hey Marcoo!!
Hang in there pal... Guess what we
got done cooking here....!!!!"

Both firemen's shadows in the gloom,
eagerly left the room.

Jamie's head sank onto the countertop
where she and Steve had been working,
and just sobbed.

Dr. Steven Taylor smiled and handed her 
a kleenix from his pocket. "Knew you
were going to do that again. D*mnest 
thing I ever saw. Tears of happiness,
heh. Who'd figure..?"

----------------------------------------------

Roy sat over Marco's bed, trembling.
In his fingers, lay the precious serum shot.

"Don't even breathe..." Kelly said to him.
Then he caught himself. "Oh, Marco, I didn't
say that about YOU.. so keep trying man..
I wanna see that chest rise on its own
half an hour after this cure's in you.." he 
said close to Lopez's ear. Then he whispered.
"Even Johnny's rootin for you. He almost
started crying over you in the kitchen... "
"Remember to tease him a bit about it when
you snap out of it.. Shhhh." he said low 
enough so no one else heard.

Stoker got out of Roy's way by removing
the ambu bag after giving Marco an O2 flood's
worth of vents.  

Roy began to titrate the serum's amber
liquid into Marco's airway.

"Easy.." Dr. Brackett said. "Here," he said.
"Follow that  I.T. with this saline flush. His
lungs will absorb it better osmotically."
And he handed DeSoto a 5cc saline syringe.

Roy followed up. Mike immediately reconnected
the ambu and forced O2 flow deep into
Marco's lungs to make sure the serum reached
as many spaces as possible inside his pulmonary
tree. Then he slowed and lessened, backing 
off once more into a normal vent rate for a 
light, but firm ambu maintain.

"Now, we wait.." Dr. Brackett said.

Somehow, the black night blanketing the shattered
firehouse seemed a little less oppressive to
everybody surrounding Marco's bed, than it had
just minutes before.

-----------------------------------------------

Just as the new sun was rising over the 
refinery, Marco Lopez responded to epinephrine and
soon began to gasp actively, fighting his airway.

Cap thought. "Anyone's guess whose smile's 
bigger.. Way to pull it off, Marco..!" he said
rubbing his shoulder affectionately.

His last sentence was drowned out by
everyone's cheers.

In the mean time, Dr. Brackett and 
Brice concentrated on getting Marco 
extubated. Kel shouted.
"Marco!.. on the count of three, I want
you to exhale as hard as you can. Don't
swallow. I know the tube's uncomfortable,
but we had to wait until you were ready
to go solo. Ready?  One, Two..Three.."

Lopez let out a gushing liquidy breath
and Brice removed the EOA quickly,
by deflating its gastric bulb with a 
2 syringe and drawing it out with a
fast careful pull to not snag the tender
structures in Marco's throat.

Roy had a suctioning probe set and
soon, he was coughing only
sporadically as his weakened muscles
decided they could learn how to 
breathe again. Stoker helped him on 
the demand valve enough to keep Lopez mostly 
awake to work out fluid and blood still 
interfering with good air draw.

Marco's hands finally pushed away the
resuscitator a few minutes later. 
His eyes fluttered open, squinting in 
the bright sunlight through the holes in
the station roof. "Hey, gang. Mama here 
yet? "he whispered. "She'd better have 
brought breakfast, I think...I think I'm.. 
getting hungry...Maybe,, maybe even
for some b- bacon...Any left?"

At his feet, Bonnie barked, and reared up on 
her haunches with her terra cotta bowl 
balanced daintily in her mouth.

--------------------------

Three hours later, Marco was stable
enough to be flown out by air.

Johnny leaped out of the helicopter
with a dirt eating grin on his face
when Marco's mom flooded his face
with kisses for saving her son's life,
promising a whole year's worth
of Monday morning burritos..

"It's the least I can do for the amigos
of my Precious Hijo.."
Rosa Marie Lopez said.

"Hey! I heard that mama.." Marco's
voice hollered out before the copter's
chopper doors closed him off.
"Wait on that regime til I'm back at 
the stationhouse working..! I don't
want the guys to eat them all before
I get back there."

"Silly boy.." Marco's mom chuckled
in a deep warm voice filled with a spanish 
flavor. "He still thinks Mrs Bandido and I
cook on a limited budget. Just wait until
I tell him we won de big California lottery, eh?
Same day as the quake.." 

------------------------------

At Rampart, days later..
Johnny and Roy were telling the rapt
Dr. Early and Dixie McCall all about their
three day, earthquake survival story.

"Yeah.. when I woke up, I had a rod 
sticking out of my left hand.
This long.." he said to Dix, enjoying 
the willies he was driving out of her.

"Johnny. Cut it out.. Don't you know I'm 
squeamish?" she giggled.

"You are?" Roy asked., blinking in surprise.

Dr. Early mumbled. "Yep. Why do you think she's
at the front desk of Emergency so much? 
Haven't any of you noticed she only goes into 
those treatment rooms of people who aren't 
gushing blood all over the floor?"

Dix smacked Joe good on the arm
for letting out her very very old secret.

"Dixxxxx..." Johnny egged, teasing her.

"Shhhh, if Kel ever found out. I'd be mortified.."
Dixie said.

"Who'd be mortified?" Dr. Brackett said, just
leaving an elevator from an upper floor.

"uh, nuthin.." Gage said. "She was actually
saying.. "Morton confided".. Yeah, that's it. 
Morton confided that he can only sing in the
shower. So that's why he got drunk and
sang to us all on the guitar under the sprinkler
like he did. He's got a great voice..man."

"Soaking wet you mean.." Kel said, ruefully shaking
his head. "I almost had to give him some Narcan
to sober him up..." he joked.

Gage waxed serious.. "Wow, you doctors and
nurses really throw a wild party. I even think Cap's
wife blushed at a few of those dance moves of
yours, Morton. Where'd ya learn em? Maybe I could
..you know.. use a couple of them going out
on dates and stuff.. Maybe I can finally snag 
a nurse who'll take me for who I really am, know
what I mean? "

Their happy chitchat made the trip up to visit
Marco in his hospital room, bright.

And Lopez was very very glad to see them all
to hear about the huge Rampart to Fire Department
wingding he had missed that weekend.

------------------------------


"And so there you have it boys and girls.." Johnny
said, "A dozen tons of red steel and chrome
with enough hose power to snuff out a whole three
story house fire in just under an hour.." he said to his 
very attentive Groverland Middle school tour children
dramatically. He made them jump by hitting the air horn,
in its richest full brassy tone."Heheh.." he laughed.
And they soon laughed along with him.
"Glad to see you all back at the station..
Quite a different place than you last left
it a month ago, isn't it?"

"Yeahh..."
A blond boy with glasses pushed forward.
"Can I see the radio mike room again?"

Johnny jumped down from top of the
engine roof and waved Stoker out
of the cab where he had been operating
lights and firing off that blast cue for
Gage. "Oh, hey Robbie.." Johnny said,
kneeling by the child's side. "I've been
wanting to see you."

"You have?"

"Yeah.." Johnny said. "I just wanted to
thank you for doing what you did the
day of the earthquake. You..probably
saved all our lives.." he said, poking the
boy in his nose. Robbie giggled.

"I know I did. Lydia Montegeaux taught 
me real good what to do in ah emergency.." 
he said misquoting an adverb. "So did 
Sam the dispatch man."

That surprised Johnny. "Lydia? 
I know a Lydia Montegeaux."

"She's my best friend.." Robbie said.
"She's right outside the station right
now. She said her grandpa was here
with her."

"Is she now?" Chet grinned. "What do you
say gang? Should we all go out and
meet Johnny's hot date?"

Chet and Marco, and Stoker and Cap 
all nodded eagerly. And Miss Thorne, too,
who was a quiet audience.

Gage let the others follow him into the 
yard. There, he knelt before his little
blind Big Brother sponsor and grinned.
"Lydia.. how come you didn't tell me
that Chief McConnike was your grandfather?"

"I didn't want to spoil the surprise..."
she said timidly on her leg braces.
The sun shining down on her face
made her blind eyes sparkle the purest
azure blue.

Cap chuckled, lifting Lydia up onto his
lap where he crouched with Bonnie in
the crook of his other arm so she
could meet and pet her. "That was
some surprise girly.. Your grandfather
managed to buy us a whole new set
of firetrucks." and he winked at McConnike.

McConnike laughed loud and deep.
"Just wait until you make chief, Hank.
Budgeting priority reshuffling's a major
chief's rank perk.."

Lydia's face was smiling as she hugged
Bonnie. "Oh, Bonnie, you're almost as
soft as Cinnabon at school."

"Who's Cinnabon?" Stoker asked.
"I don't remember your classroom
having any pets.."

"It does now... Jamie from the CDC
flew us in a present last week from 
Atlanta. The kit from the Flying Fox
Bat that saved Marco was ready to be 
weaned and needed a home."

"He's here. He's here, Mr. Gage. I know
you'll like him. I know you will." Lydia
said, tugging Johnny's uniform sleeve.

Gage started to fidget just thinking about
bats. But he didn't let his reaction translate
to Lydia. "Well, I don't know abou-- Say
Lydia.. Is he in a cage? I think I could
probably.....deal with ...him in a..crate or
something..."

"Chicken.." Chet hissed teasingly.

"No, just particular.." he said firmly.
Then he trickled.. "Uh oh......"

Robbie came running, happily
screeching around the corner with a blanketed 
moving bundle in his hands.

Sticking out of it, was the cutest furry 
face the firemen had ever seen.

Bonnie instantly began to lick the baby bat's
face, smothering him in kisses.

Johnny's bat phobia instantly evaporated
as fast as Bonnie's maternal instinct
had risen.
"Wow, you know.. I think this little guy'd
uh,, this tiny thing'd here, would even look 
cute under a full moon, don't you think 
gang?" 

"Ahhhhh!! Don't say those two words!!"
Chet said, dashing off for the safety of
the newly rebuilt station garage. "You'll
jinx us for sure.."

Laughs.. abounded.

------------------------------

That night, at the newly repaired
station house, still smelling of new
vehicles, the gang prepared themselves
for sleep.

"Hey, Roy.."

"What..." he mumbled, flopped down on
the pillow where he had fallen. He didn't
even bother to take off his uniform nor
his blue over coat.

"Think I can sneak over to the phone to call
Lydia tonight?"

"You can try.. You know Bonnie'll start howling
again when you're more than ten feet away 
from her.."

"Oh.  I know. I'll carry her over there with me.
That way. She won't howl and she won't be
able to take a whiz on the floor again.."

John waited for Roy to reply but the reply 
never came.

Roy was out like a light.

-------------------------------------------

The next morning, Johnny's sheets were 
tangled up around him and Bonnie both,
but Roy hadn't even moved.

Gage's feet hit the floor and he wandered
over to grab his partner by the wrist.
He eyed his watch and then at Bonnie.
"Hey Bonnie.. Look..He IS alive.." he said to the
wriggling, all attentive Yorky looking eagerly
in play invite at him. "He's only acting
dead to the world. Gonna sleep a week 
for sure.." And he dropped Roy's hand onto
his own face to judge reaction. Roy didn't
move. "Make that two weeks and a day,
Bonnie."  A huge yawn split his face into
two and he thought about it some.
"Man,.. Roy's onto something over there.
I think I'll just.. do ...a nap. yeah. All the
other guys are still out.. Think I'll...just,
close my eyes for just a......."

Even when the full moon rose later that
evening, the fates kept smiling kindly on the
crew of Station 51 long after the silver disk
sank below the horizon. 

They got in an unheard of duration of two 
days on duty with nothing to do but 
sleep and enjoy yard basketball games..
At long last..

Bonnie, was the only one unhappy about
it. 

She couldn't get to Johnny's bunk 
unobserved long enough, for one of her 
famous sheet marking territory sessions...


                FIN

-------------------------------------

Photo: Captains Stone and Stanley by the Engine.

Photo: Chet checking in on morose Johnny.

Photo: Roy with Marco's cure in his hand, scared.

Photo: Dixie getting squeamish.

Photo: Johnny and kids by the new vehicles.

Photo: Roy with kids on the Engine.

Photo: John meeting Lydia Montegeaux.

Photo: McConnike by the engines.

Photo: The Baby Flying Fox.

Photo: Roy and John sleeping the sleep of the dead.

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

        FIN  

FULL MOON BLUES
Season One, Premiere...

 
FULL  MOON  BLUES  

    :) This Episode is Dedicated to Debralee Wrycza
    :) Who is Fighting the Big Fight..   :) 

 
@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@

   
The Story Unfolds...

Season One, Episode Two..  

FATHER AND SON 


 
********************************
From: doc51@att.net 
Date: Mon, 18 Nov 2002 00:17:08 -0000 
Subject: Fathers & Sons.

Kel was in his office. It had been 
a crazy week. That day was no 
exception. It was enough to make 
him miss a rare dinner date with 
his dad. He picked up the phone 
and dialed his dad's number and 
waited for him to answer. 

---------------------------------------

No attachments.

******************************
From:  "Jean Yasick" <kmgage365@lakefield.net> 
Date:  Sun Nov 17, 2002  8:56 pm
Subject:  Possible Start

 
The morning tones woke the sleepy 
men of station 51. Some days, the 
tones were a welcome sound. It meant 
the shift was over and the men had 
days off to relax and catch up on 
family things.

But some days, like today, it was 
not welcomed. The engine crew had 
three runs during the night and the 
squad had five and it was only the 
first night of an 'experimental' 
two day shift the department was 
looking into to try and save money 
and maximize man power.

Captain Stanley grabbed the mike 
and acknowledged Sam Lanier. Yawning, 
he walked towards the kitchen to start 
some coffee. Hank didn't make it to 
the kitchen, however. He heard a 
strange noise coming from the front 
of the apparatus bay.

He quickly turned around to see 
what the noise was and was 
surprised to see a small basket 
laying over by the bay doors. He 
approached cautiously, knowing it 
hadn't been there the night 
before and was very concerned that 
it was there now. It meant 
that someone, somehow, had been 
able to get into the station, 
even though the doors were locked.

As he got closer to the basket, 
the noise repeated itself, causing 
Hank to jump back. Once again, he 
approached the basket and 
carefully lifted the cover. He 
jumped when he saw what was 
inside.

"Oh Man! This has to be some kind 
of joke!..... CHET! Get out 
here! NOW!"

The men of station 51 knew their 
captain quite well. And they 
knew he did not use that tone of 
voice very often, but when he 
did, you better listen!

So the men shoved Chet out the dorm 
door and followed a pace 
behind.

"Yeah, Cap, what do you......." Chet 
stopped in his tracks when he 
saw the basket.

"What the......?"

"That is what I want to know, Kelly!"

"Oh, Chet! You have gone too far now!" 
said Roy as he backed 
up a pace or two.

"Really! But you have to admit, 
Chester B... it does bear a family
resemblance!" teased Johnny as he 
pushed past Roy and headed into the 
kitchen to start the much needed coffee.

"Funny, Gage!" Chet said as he pushed 
past Cap to get a closer look at the 
puppy that was now wakening from its 
sleep. Pulling the puppy out of the 
basket, Chet hollered into the 
kitchen, "She doesn't look like me 
at all...as a matter of fact, with 
a nose like that, she kind of 
resembles your last date!"

With that, the black and brown puppy 
reached up and licked Chet 
on the tip of his nose.

"Where'd he come from, Cap?" Chet 
asked as he tried to move 
his head away from the wet tongue 
assaulting his nose.

"I don't know, but there's a note 
here. Let's see what it says."

As Captain Stanley opened the envelope, 
the little puppy moved from Chet's nose 
to his chin and ran his tongue over the 
scratching stubble.

Johnny walked back into the bay 
munching on a donut as Captain Stanley 
unfolded the letter.

"Hmm... it's written in red crayon.....

Dear, Fireman. My name is Chris and 
I am 7 years old. This cute puppy 
followed me home from the park, but 
Mom says he is ugly, and I can't keep 
him. I have seen that your fire station 
does not have a dog riding on the big 
red engine when it buzzes by my house, 
so I am giving him to you so your 
engine will not be lonely. Please 
take good care of him. His name is 
Chester and he likes to drink out 
of the toilet."

As Cap finished the letter, Johnny 
could not contain himself anymore. 
He almost spit his donut out when 
Cap read the dog's name, but the 
toilet part just got Johnny's funny 
bone.

"Well, Chester B. I see that Chester 
picked out the right person to bond 
with!!! Not only do you share a name, 
but you share an interest in latrines, 
too!"

"Funny Gage! Very funny!." Chet 
replied, his face turning slightly 
red. The rest of the crew laughed 
for a few seconds, then Roy sobered 
up a bit as he asked the all important 
question.

"So Cap, what are we going to do with 
her..uhm him..uh..whatever it is?" 
Roy asked.

The rest of the crew looked at their 
fearless leader as he took the puppy 
back from Chet. Stanley cautiously 
turned the puppy over in order to 
find out for sure what sex it was. 
When he found out, he turned the 
puppy back over and looked at his 
men. They were all standing there 
like a bunch of five-year-olds asking 
their dad if they could keep it. He 
rolled his eyes and started to answer, 
only to be interrupted by the tones going off.

-----------------------------------------

No attachments.

***********************************
From : P. Keiper <theaterhost@voyagerliveaction.com>
Date : Sun Nov 17, 2002 10:24 pm
Subject: Merger

It was a run for their sister station,
Eight. All the gang let out
their collective breaths in anticipation.

Cap finally said. "It's a boy! I'll decide, 
tonight. Now shoo!"

And he banished his men inside, cooing 
to the little beagle pup to calm him.

The pup took to a blue laundry 
basket in Cap's office, filled 
with clean, storing, stokes ties and 
long board straps, like a fish to
water and soon, went to sleep.

Cap closed his door and said,
"Shhh. Do, whatever you're gonna
do. He'll be fine in here. Kelly. 
Get a dish of water and some chow 
for the little guy on the double. We'll 
leave it by him to find when he wakes 
up."
------------------------------

No attachments.

**************************
From:  rosanne iho <irosanne@yahoo.com> 
Date:  Sun Nov 17, 2002  8:12 pm
Subject:  Only In The Movies


It was an absolutely beautiful, balmy, summer 
evening in Southern California.

In the rec' room of Los Angeles County Fire 
Station 51, six firemen sat huddled in front of 
a TV set, watching the Dodgers and the Padres 
battling it out in a late-night double-header. 
The home team had taken the first game. 
The men cheered, as Dodger's pitcher, Don 
Sutton, struck out the Padres--one, two, 
three. The Dodgers came to bat. First baseman, 
Steve Garvey, hit a single. Outfielder, Dave 
Lopes, also singled. Sutton walked. With the 
bases loaded--and no outs--Dodger slugger, 
Dusty Baker, stepped up to the plate.

"There's the wind up...and the pi--!" the 
announcer began, only to be drowned out 
by the Station's alarm.

There was a group groan.

"Station 51..." the dispatcher began.

The television was flicked off. The rec' 
room reluctantly emptied.

"Man down...unknown type rescue...213 
East Morrow Drive...Ambulance responding...
Two-One-Three East Morrow Drive...Time 
out...23:02."

"Station 51...KMG-365," Captain Hank 
Stanley acknowledged, as his crews climbed 
into their respective rescue vehicles, tossing 
turnout coats and helmets on. He handed 
Squad 51's driver a copy of the call slip and 
then hurried over to assume his seat in the 
Engine. 

Moments later, the rigs exited the parking 
bay and pulled out onto the dark, deserted 
street in front of the Fire Station--lights 
flashing and sirens wailing.

########################

213 East Morrow Drive turned out to be 
an enormous mansion with a tiled roof and 
gables, surrounded by an ancient cottonwood 
grove. The hedges lining the circular drive 
were untrimmed, and the large lawns lacked 
a manicured look, as well. The trucks pulled 
right up in front of the place. Their drivers cut 
the sirens, and their occupants piled out. The 
paramedics grabbed some equipment from 
the Squad's side compartments and then 
joined their fellow firefighters at the front 
door. 

Their Captain pressed the doorbell. An eerie 
'gong' sound filled the air. The men exchanged 
amused glances and waited patiently on the 
moonlit porch for someone to appear. When 
nobody did, Stanley gasped--impatiently--and 
hit the 'gong' again...which resulted in several 
snorts of suppressed laughter. Hank gave up 
on the 'gong' and began banging a big, brass 
door-knocker.

'C'mon...c'mon...' Paramedic John Gage silently 
urged, 'These equipment cases ain't getting any 
lighter...' He finally set his heavy burdens down 
and took a step or two back, to stare up at the 
big, ugly abode. "Yah know...I saw a house just 
like this on the Late-Late Show the other night."

"Yeah...Me, too..." Firefighter Chet Kelly quietly 
confessed, as his feet shifted uncomfortably 
beneath him, "It was in one of those horror 
flics."

"Right!" John continued, "The butler kept a 
beautiful blonde heiress chained up in the dungeon! 
The place was loaded with secret passages and--"

"--And that's the only place you're ever going 
to find a house like that," his partner, Roy 
DeSoto suddenly interrupted, "In the movies!"

Gage stared sadly at DeSoto for a few seconds 
and then slowly shook his head. "No imagination!"

"Kelly! Lopez! Grab some flashlights and 
check the back of the house!" their 
Commander bugled, bored with his banging.
"Before we go barging in," he told his Engineer, 
Mike Stoker, "I'd better call dispatch and 
make sure we've got the right address..." 
He slipped a HT from his right coat pocket 
and thumbed the call button. "L.A., this is 
County 51..."

"Go ahead, 51..."

"L.A., request address check on our 
last call, logged at 23:02..."

"Standby, 51...51, the call reads: Man 
down...unknown type rescue... 213 East 
Morrow Drive."

"Roger that, L.A.," the Captain acknowledged, 
"51 clear." Stanley stared up at the house 
number--213--for a few seconds and then 
turned back to Stoker. "Mike, you sure this 
is East Morrow Drive?"

"Well, if it's not," his Engineer began, 
"someone's been playing games with 
the street signs."

"Man!" Kelly breathlessly exclaimed upon 
his return, "It's even creepier out back!"

His Captain rolled his eyes and questioned 
the third member of his engine crew, "No 
answer?"

Marco Lopez shook his helmeted head.

"Well, we can't stand out here all night!" 
their Commander finally determined and 
turned the door knob. Stanley smiled, 
as the heavy portal swung open. There 
would be no need for the forceable-entry 
tools. "Fire Department!" he shouted 
as he stepped into the dimly-lit entryway, 
"Anybody home?!" No answer. 

The paramedics picked their equipment 
back up and then they, and the others, 
followed their fearless leader inside. 

"This is the Fire Department!" Stanley 
called out again, "Anybody home?!" Still 
no answer. In fact, except for the loud 
ticking of a clock in the entrance hall, the 
whole house was filled with an eerie silence.

The paramedics sighed and set their heavy 
cases down again.

Stanley turned to his men. "All right, Roy...
You and Marco check upstairs! Mike and I 
will cover this floor. Gage, Kelly, you two 
get the basement! Move out!" 

"What are we looking for?" Kelly nervously 
inquired of his search partner.

"Beats me!" Gage teased, "It's an unknown 
type rescue..."

"How about the basement door--for starters!" 
their Captain impatiently prodded.

The two foot-dragging firefighters fled the 
entrance hall. They managed to make their 
way into the kitchen. John jerked a door 
open--a broom closet. Chet pulled another 
portal open--a pantry. Gage latched onto 
a third door's knob and pulled. It's un-oiled 
hinges creaked, eerily. He smiled, 
triumphantly and motioned his search-mate 
over. 

Kelly flicked his flashlight on and shone it 
down a very steep set of basement stairs.

"If there's a beautiful blonde heiress down 
there," Gage began, "I get to rescue her!"

"That's not a dungeon!" Kelly reminded him.


John stared sadly at Chet, and shook his 
head, "No imagination..."

"Oh-oh no," Kelly corrected his colleague, 
"I've got an imagination, all right! That's 
why I'm gonna let you go first. That way, 
if there's a tall dude down there--with a 
long, black cloak and a wolf's-head cane..." 
he paused to tap Gage on the chest, "you 
get to rescue him!"

John swallowed hard and started down 
the stairs. "Thanks!" he muttered, 
sarcastically. They got about two steps 
down and then stopped, hearing their 
Captain calling them. They gladly retreated 
and went racing back to the entrance hall.

"Yeah, Cap?!" the panting pair simultaneously 
exclaimed, as they came skidding to a stop 
in front of Hank Stanley.

---------------------------------------------

No attachments.

****************************
Date: Tue, 19 Nov 2002 18:54:30 -0800 (PST) 
From: "Jeff Seltun" <finiterider@yahoo.com>  
Subject:  The Stuff of Dreams 


>Kel was in his office. It had been 
>a crazy week. That day was no 
>exception. It was enough to make 
>him miss a rare dinner date with 
>his dad. He picked up the phone 
>and dialed his dad's number and 
>waited for him to answer.

The phone rang two times and the
pauses showing his call going unanswered
between them only increased his
anxiety. ::Why am I feeling like an errant
school boy? I'm forty two years old.
Dad is just dad to me, isn't he?:: his 
thoughts rose.

-------     -------     -------  

"Because he's you're dad." Dixie's voice
spoke from his memory of a conversation
he had a week ago with his husky throated
head ER nurse on just that same subject. 
"And you still look up to him. After all, you 
did follow in his footsteps getting into the 
medical field." she said.

"Emergency medicine's a far cry from
psychiatry Dix. I didn't follow anyone to
get where I am today. Especially not him."
Kel said a little defensively when Dix's
comment stuck a little too far into the
real truth of matters. "Also, I've branched
off into cardiology, too, and that's an even 
more unrelated area than being some office
bound,  leather chair to couch side shrink."

Dix's frosted eyebrows rose in amazement.
"Oh? I'd say in that way, you and your father
are in an area a little closer together my fine, 
fretting friend. You both deal with matters of 
the heart. Only yours deals with just the 
physical aspects of things. You fix the body
whereas he fixes the mind. Quite a complimentary
pair to have in one family, in my book. You should
team up together, Kel. Even if just to compare
professional notes or something. Might be a way 
for you two to work out differences."
she said gently, handing Dr. Brackett a cup 
of coffee.

"We are. I have dinner with him once a month."

"Oh, really." Dix said, throwing disbelieving doe
eyes at Kel. "There's twelve months in a year,
Kel. And I distinctly remember setting up
reservations at Mannie's for you and your father
only twice total, since this time last year.."

Kel's chin twitched. "I've been busy.."

"Yeah, well so have I. " Dix countered. 
"Although in my case, I haven't been too
busy to see family I care about, to drift
apart from again, due to carelessness."

From anyone else, Dixie's remark would
earn a scathing sharp reply. But Kel and
Dix were the best of friends, been old flames 
even, at one time. And what she said and felt,
was still very very important to him.
"You .....really think so?" he said, studying his
hands and rubbing absently at their surgical
dryness.

Dix shoved a jar of hand cream at him across
the lounge table. "I  know so. I've seen you
two cross by my desk everyday. Brent to
his office on the ninth floor and you to yours.
I can't believe you two even work in the same
hospital. He could be in Greece for all the contact
I've seen. I can read the whole state of affairs between
you two just by the degree of scowling on your
faces. You in particular, have a certain cheek
twitch that pops up whenever you think of
your father.."

"I do not.." Dr. Brackett protested.

"You do... Ahaa!" she cried out in triumph. 
"There it is again! That's seven times today already."
She leaned forward, finely filed nails clicking
on the formica table top. "And for me, that's
a critical sign with only one treatment available
in my line of thinking.......Go call him, Kel.
Arrange one of those well overdue dinner
dates. You both are in severe need for quality 
father/son family time.....Oh,.. Just one thing
though.."

Kel's face was sheepish as he used the cream
Dixie had given him briskly to ease his chapped
aching hands. "And what's that, Dix?"

"Promise me you'll both leave your white
doctor coats at home.."

---------     ----------       ---------      ----------

The phone rang a third time in his ear. By then
Kel's cheek twitch had traveled up to his hairline.
He groaned as the anxiety reached deeply
under his skin. ::Come on. Pick up already..::

Finally...

"Hello. Brent Brackett speaking.."

"Dad?"

A pause. ."Is...everything all right down there
son? I didn't hear a disaster call go out.."
Brent asked.

"No. no no.. Everything's fine. Quiet night
in fact. So far, only one station is out on
a run. Station 51's." and he tried to sound
natural as he laughed. "I....just wanted to
say I'm sorry for missing our last dinner
plans in May. I'd ...like to make it up
to you.."

There was a longer silence and then Kel
heard Brent slip into his professional mode
like he always did when analyzing the emotional
tone of a situation. "That'd be fine son, free
on the 18th? I'll have my receptionist book us.
That will give us two days each to think of
something to talk about, other than the shop
talk like we always end up doing."

"Thanks dad. I'll see you at our usual table."

"Until then.  And son..."

"What dad?"

"Don't work so hard. I can tell by how long
your head nurse glares at me how little
you've slept.."

That comment embarrassed Kel deeper than
words. "I'll see you later, pop."

A muted grunt was a reply and the phone line
clicked with a snick briskly a second later.

"It's still a little mid artic but at least, the cracks
in the icebergs are widening.." said Dix.
"Here's to progress.." and she raised her mug
to Dr. Brackett in salute.

Kel didn't know whether to smile at his
accomplishment or admonish Dix for
easedropping on his phonecall. He chose
to move on to other matters. He cleared
his throat, taking a chart from Dixie's
hand. The red light in the base station was
still on, but not yet flashing. "51, call in
with their rescue yet?"

Dix regarded the tiny glass room and the
quiet intercom phone still sitting silent
by the recorder. "Nope. I just moved
their status magnet to Away two minutes
ago when I heard the call come in through
L.A. dispatch.." she said, pointing with
a pen from her desk to the scanner
overhead.

"Any indication what it is we got?"

"None. It's an unknown type rescue
so far. Literally.."

"Hmm" Dr. Brackett said, handing
51's blank run sheet slate back to Dix.
"Keep me posted. I think I'll check in
on a patient or two while I'm waiting.
Page me when 51 fires up."

"Will do." and then she smiled, hugely
as if with a private observation.

Kel didn't miss it. "What?"

"You're relaxed already. And all
it took was a single itty bitty
30 second phone call."
she chuckled.

Kel's face twitched. "I'll recommend you
for a Pullitzer." and he disappeared
into treatment two, shaking his
head ruefully.

--------   ----------    -----------  

At 213 East Morrow Drive, things weren't
quite as rosy, down right creepy at that. 

>"Oh-oh no," Kelly corrected his colleague, 
>"I've got an imagination, all right! That's 
>why I'm gonna let you go first. That way, 
>if there's a tall dude down there--with a 
>long, black cloak and a wolf's-head cane..." 
>he paused to tap Gage on the chest, "you 
>get to rescue him!"

>John swallowed hard and started down 
>the stairs. "Thanks!" he muttered, 
>sarcastically. They got about two steps 
>down and then stopped, hearing their 
>Captain calling them. They gladly retreated 
>and went racing back to the entrance hall.

>"Yeah, Cap?!" the panting pair simultaneously 
>exclaimed, as they came skidding to a stop 
>in front of Hank Stanley.

"Do you smell that?"  Cap asked and he started 
to walk around the room, sniffing, suspicious.

Chet and the gang started to copy him.

Johnny immediately tensed. " Cap, what is it?
You smell smoke or something?"

Cap shook his head. "No..no.. not smoke..
smells like... like.."

"Cinnamon ginger bread.." Chet said. 

"OoooOOoooo." Marco toned. 
"Do you suppose the witch from
Hansel and Gretel lives here? Maybe
we've all been called out to be someone
else's dinner.."

The gang cracked up.

"Very funny guys. Creepy house or not,
that's what I'm smelling. Gingerbread."
Kelly noticed the dubious looks on all
the guys faces..and he clarified defensively.
"You know.. the kind grandma always makes.
And it smells like it's coming from over..."

The whole crew followed Kelly's nose to
another dusty cobwebby door and he pushed
it open. A brightly lit yellow kitchen with oversized
stoves and ovens met their eyes.

The station crew's light faces fell away when they
found an old man slumped over a table, a phone's
receiver still in his hand. Johnny and Roy ran over
to him and Gage felt for a pulse. "He's alive.."

The cookies, were just starting to burn. Marco 
pulled open the oven, and yanked out the 
scorched tray, and dumped it into the old 
over sized, old fashioned pump water handled sink.

It took him a moment to figure out the pump
was the only way to get to water. He finally
pumped enough out to gurgle over the over
hot pan.

Mike turned off the gas in the oven.

Roy shouted to his patient.
"Hey,.. Mister.. Can you hear me?
We're L.A. County Firefighter Paramedics.
We answered your call.."

The man didn't move as Roy checked
his breathing, right where he was.

Cap lifted his handy talkie to his mouth. 
"L.A. This is Station 51. We have a 
confirmed medical rescue. Respond an 
ambulance.."

##10-4, 51. Timeout 23:16.##

Then Hank knelt by Roy and John as they
took off their helmets and got to work.
"Want him on the floor?"

"Not yet. We don't know what we have.
He's breathing ok at any rate. But we
will need the O2."

Chet Kelly came through the kitchen door
with it breathless. "Got it here. That and
the defibrillator." He handed them off to 
John who immediately got them set.

Mike, got leads on an EKG ready on the blue
monitor and waited to hand them to
Gage and DeSoto when they were ready.

Roy set the unconscious old man on a light
flow through a simple mask, leaving him 
slumped across the table top face
down, while John got a BP. 

"It's 90 over 64. Pulse 110 and thready."

Roy said, "His respiration rate's 22 and shallow.
Irregular.." He bent over and checked the man's
pupils being careful not to move him much.
"Equal and reactive."

"Cardiac?" Hank asked. 

"Most likely." Roy answered him. "If this were
a stroke, his eyes would've told us that. The scope
will tell us more.. Give me those Stoker. I'm ready
for them."

Mike helped Roy patch the man up.
As they did so, the old man began to moan
and awaken and he lifted his head. Chet
supported him in his chair as Roy and Hank
got him oriented as to what was happening.
"Easy there. Take it slow. How are ya doing?"
Roy said to him. "Know where you are?"

Johnny got on the biophone to Rampart, digging
out his green pen from the biobox's lid.
"Rampart, this is Rescue 51, how do you read?"

The reply was....

---------------------------------------

Photo : Dix in a medium shot.

Photo: Hank and Gage in helmets at a scene.
           Close up.

Photo: Johnny treating a cardiac victim
           with O2 and EKG leads.

*******************************
From: "Linda Taggatz" <doc51@att.net> 
Date: Tue, 19 Nov 2002 23:27:41 -0600 
Subject: Re: The Stuff of Dreams 


>Johnny got on the biophone to Rampart, digging
>out his green pen from the biobox's lid.
>"Rampart, this is Rescue 51, how do you read?"

>The reply was...

..from Dixie. "Rescue 51, I read you loud and clear."

---------------------------------------

No attachments.

******************************************* 
From:  "Cassidy Meyers" <killashandraRey@hotmail.com> 
Date:  Thu Nov 21, 2002  2:37 am
Subject:  The Ginger Cookie Man and the Other Chester B

> From Dixie. "Rescue 51, I read you loud and clear."

Johnny looked up and saw that their patient was 
nearly conscious. He amended his notes on his
writing pad. "Rampart, ah. We have a male,
approximately 60 to 65 years of age. Found
comatose and unresponsive. On eight liters
of O2, consciousness is returning. Vitals are:
BP 90/64, Pulse 110 and thready. Respirations
are 22 and shallow. Rampart we do have a
strip available. Lead two."

"10-4. Relay your telemetry and I'll page Dr.
Brackett. Please stand by.." Dixie answered.

##Standing by.# Johnny answered.

Dixie got on the red phone and paged the 
inhouse operator. "Would you please page Dr. 
Brackett to the base station, stat. Thanks." 
and she hung up, writing down the information 
she had received.

Roy in the meantime, put on his best paramedic smile.
He watched as the old man looked surprised as
full awareness returned as he put questioning hands
up to his face to the mask flowing oxygen there.
"Hi there. I'm Roy DeSoto and this gentleman on
the phone is my partner, John Gage. We're paramedics
from the Los Angeles County Fire Department. Got 
your call there."

The man gave an intelligible moan and he seemed
to be hard of hearing. "Eh? Oh, my dearie. I HAVE 
caused a ruckus, haven't I?" Then he smelled wet
ginger cookies in the kitchen. "Oh, no.. there goes
all afternoon's work.." he said.

Chet smiled for the man's voice sounded for the
world like Mr. Hooper from Seasame Street. 
Kind and warm. "Yeah, well, rest easy sir. We 
got the gas turned off for ya."

Roy set his hand on the man's stomach to get
a new breathing rate. "So, what's your name?
Can you tell me that?"

"Eh? Oh, oh. It's Fajou.. Reginald Arthur Fajou.
Been living in this house since...    uh.... I can't
remember rightly.. Could have been since the
war.. or was that WW One?" he gasped.

"I see. Listen, Mr. Fajou.." Gage said. "Do you
have a history of any heart problems? Breathing
problems? That sort of thing? You seem to be
in a little distress here."

"Ohh..." Arthur said, thinking.." Martha tells me
I got asthma.. and....that's about it...."

"Who's Martha?" Roy asked. "Your wife?"

"Eh?..Ohnn no.. She's ma landlady. Heh. She's
been real nice to me. Letting me bake for the
kids working and filming at the movie studio
and all." and he started to laugh in memory,
weakily, until a wet coughing made him grip
Chet's hand tightly. "Oh, my.. Not feeling so
good today.. Little weak.."

"Well, we'll get ya to the hospital and have
a doctor take a look at you, ok?" Roy asked.

"All right. If you say I have to go.. I  I will. 
Don't want to get Martha mad at me. She's
been so nice to me, don't you see? And,..I
had a nice ...*cough* pan of cookies made
just for her..  hhmm."

"Yes,sir.." Roy said and he began to get
a more detailed medical history on Arthur
while Johnny got Kel Brackett on line.

Gage began to relax as the reading showing 
on the scope indicated only some elevated
ST segments on a sinus rhythm. Nothing
dire. He set the phone and its cord over his
shoulder while he listened to Arthur's breath
sounds. He heard only light bronchial 
wheezing. 

"Ohhhh, that's cold sonny.." Arthur said of
the metal drum Johnny placed on his skin.
"Like ice.."

"Sorry.. Easily fixed.." Johnny said with a grin
and he warmed it in his palm with a breath
before finishing his task. Mentally, he upgraded
Arthur's consciousness level to good.

Roy bumped down the percentage of O2 on 
their patient when Johnny gave him a thumbs
down gesture. Gage said, "COPD's confirmed."

"Ok, then, we'll just keep you sitting, allright
Arthur? You can breathe better this way in
the chair..?" Roy asked.

"Y- Yeah.. That's why I came into the kitchen.
Usually I stay by the fire while they bake, you
see? But then I  *cough* got a little dizzy..
and the room started spinning round and round.
I got scared, you know.. So I called for help.
Glad you boys are here, because.. I'm not
feeling so good today.." Arthur sighed softly.

His charm was irresistable to the other firemen
hovering nearby and they all broke into grins
of amusement.  Cap noticed the pictures 
on the wall. "Say,, Arthur.. I know this movie..
And this looks like your front porch here on
the poster.."

"Heh.." Arthur grinned around his mask.
"It is.. I've been baking cookies for the
studios for so long, they.. they come over
every once in a while...to make a movie..
know what I mean..?"

Chet and Marco both nodded. "Sure do."
Kelly piped up eagerly, joining in Cap's 
enthusiasm."We're great fans of most 
of them. Attack of the Ghoulies and last year's
Grandchild of Frankenstein here. Do you really
have an iron maiden in the basement down there?
We didn't really quite make it down there
before Ca-"

Lopez smacked Chet silent before Cap 
could use the eye on him.


"This is Dr. Brackett, go ahead, 51."

Johnny continued his report. "Rampart
our victim's got a history of chronic
occlusive pulmonary disease. He admits
to asthma. I've listened to him and he
does sound a little wet on the left side.
And his breathing's slightly labored.
We've amended his liter flow to four
a minute."

Kel finished reading the report Dix had
taken on him and looked up before
thumbing the intercom. "Give me his strip
51. Is he coherent enough for you
to get a oral temperature on him?"

"That's affirmative on both, Rampart.
Transmitting EKG." Johnny said, dialing
the EKG monitor to send mode.

Dr. Brackett eyed the rhythm he received.
"51, I'm reading a normal sinus rhythm over
here with only slight variations. Is the O2,
helping his dyspnea at all?"

"That's affirmative. He was slightly
cyanotic when we found him on
the table top but he's now pinking
up albeit a bit clammy and chilled."

Roy finished getting a temperature on
Arthur. "Hmm.. 97.1"

Johnny reported this in.

"All right Johnny, start an IV Lactated 
Ringers, TKO only and transport as soon
as possible. Keep him upright and comfortable
and continue to maintain O2. That drop in
temperature might be the early stages of
septicemia or other etiology. I want a new
vitals set in five minutes.."

"10-4 Rampart. IV LR TKO and O2. New vitals
in transit. The ambulance has arrived." Gage
said.

A few minutes later Arthur was warmly wrapped
in wool tan blankets and his IV was in place
in Marco's hand. As he was wheeling with the
stationhouse crew he said. "You boys are
so kind... when I get out ..you come back
and I'll bake some nice, hot gingerbread
cookies for you.. ok? You boys are so nice.."

Gage grinned all the way into the Mayfair.
It was he who rode in with Arthur the stage
kids' cookie man.

--------------------------------------------

The engine was already backed into the 
garage and abandoned by the time Roy
and Johnny had replenished supplies and
had made their farewells to the ill Mr. Fajou.
The station house was quiet after Johnny 
and Roy turned off their backing reds,
removed their helmets and left the squad.

"Hmm. I wonder where the guys are?
Are they sleeping?"

Roy walked across the bay and peeked into
the bunk house, flicking on the light for a sec.
"Nope. The bed's are still made up.. All of 
them.."

Johnny flicked a wrist up and checked the 
time. "Wow, no one's sleeping? It's almost
three a.m..."

Roy shrugged as they made their way by the
large county map and into the kitchen.
"Maybe they're watching the rebroadcast
of the game...."

"At three a.m..? Roy.. no channel airs games
at three am in the morning.. Geesh.." he
said as his calm demeanored partner preceeded
him through the door he held open for Roy.

No one was at the table nor at the frig.

Johnny and Roy both turned on a dime.
Looking towards the black leather couch
and the TV chairs. The TV, was dark.

And all the gang were on their
hands and knees surrounding Henry's old
dog house. It was still dusty and weather 
beaten from sitting in the yard. Chet was
hastily scrubbing it clean with a bucket of
water and Bon Ami. He looked up.

"Heya guys.. About time you showed up.
You almost missed the big moment. The
little fella's about to go into his new home
for the first time.."

Johnny's jaw flopped open.. "You mean,
uh, you mean Cap said Yes..?" he chortled,
trying to keep his voice down.

"Yeah, man. Guess the abandoned pup kinda
got Cap's thoughts rolling about us losing Henry.
It's been two years you know, since Henry's real 
owners showed up to claim him." he nodded.
"Maybe, uh, maybe Cap's a little dogsick."

"Maybe we ALL are.." Marco piped up eagerly,
still on his hands and knees. The gang was
carefully playing with the shy, but active 
beagle puppy keeping him in a ring before their
laps, more than one trying to get the tiny
guy to notice the doghouse doorway by
tapping it.

Roy and Gage joined them all on the floor,
abandoning themselves to the moment.
"Come on boy. Come on.. Don't you see
it? There's a nice big bone in there.." Gage
babytalked to the pup.

"Eeeoowww" Kelly exclaimed. "Do you think
we should really let him have Henry's old
bone, Gage. Kinda dirty after two years in
an old doghouse out in the yard."

"Would you just hush.. I'm trying to bond
here." Gage said.

The moment Johnny looked up, the pup's
attention wandered and he scampered over
to the nearest lap he liked. Cap's. 

The pup stumbled gracelessly into Hank's stomach
and then turned circles before settling 
down with a contented sigh after licking
Cap's face once on the chin.

"Well whatdiya know.."Roy grinned. "He
knows who to thank doesn't he?"

"Smart dog.." Hank said, keeping still
as the new puppy closed his eyes.
"uh oh,, looks like he's going ta sleep on
me. Dang.. My leg's are going to, too, if
I stay this way.."

The gang hastily grabbed Cap by the
shoulders and legs and Chet said.
"Don't move Cap. You'll wake him.
We'll move you to the recliner."

"Kelly! Would y--"

"ShhhhHHHH!" The rest of the gang said.

The beagle whimpered but then started
snoring again just as fast.

Hank finally tossed his head. "All right.
Lift me." he said, feeling ridiculous.

Soon, he was settled in the black chair
with the pup safely nestled like a
sleeping Sphinx in his lap.

The gang immediately made for the bunks,
abandoning Cap and his puppy in the chair.
"Hey, you're not just going to leave me
here?"

"Aww cap.. Do you really want us to make
him cranky? I mean, these early puppy to family
bonding days are crucial. You're just gonna 
haveta spend the night in the arm chair." 
Kelly reasoned.

Cap scowled but stayed quiet. "All right. Just
this once. Somebody get me a blanket." he
said, adjusting the tiny pup's snoring face until
his snores softened into easier sleeping breaths.

Marco wasn't past teasing. "You know.. he just
might have to sleep every night in your lap, Cap,
after this.."

"No he won't. Because if he needs to he can
spend the night on somebody else's lap instead,
like tomorrow night in yours Lopez?"

"Aww Cap.. I can't sleep a wink sitting in a chair."

"Didn't say it was an order. But.. Lookiethatcuteface.
Can you deny him the benefit of a warm body's
comfort?"

"That's what a hot water bottle in the dog house
is supposed to be for.." Marco said.

"No dog is ever going to get into Henry's old doghouse."
Mike Stoker said. "Chet's logged more hours in
there than Henry ever did."

The gang laughed.

Johnny came back from grabbing a blanket out
of a spare closet for Hank . "Here ya go, Cap."
and he tossed it up into the air.

"Gage, would you be careful?!" he said, barely 
saving it from burying the tiny dog. "You could've
jarred the little guy.."

"Sorry..Cap."

Kelly was thoughtful. "Say, listen Cap. Now that
we're keeping him, we can't just keep calling
him Little Guy.. I mean uh, his previous owner 
says his name is uh,.." and he broke off in
embarrassement. 

"Chester.." Gage said and the gang giggled.

Cap said, "No, he's more like a "lapper" "
he said patting where the puppy was
lying deeply in slumber.

"All right. Ok. We can call him Chester."
Chet said defensively. "I just don't want 
to hear anybody and I mean anybody,
ever.. call him Chester B.."

Gage sniggered, "Why Chet? Does the B
stand for something that really gets
your blood pumping?"

"No.. It's just--" Chet said, hastily avoiding
Gage's advance on him in yet another attempt
to ring it out of Chet what the answer was
to that greatest of all Chet mysteries.
Johnny grabbed Chet by the moustache
and backed him into the wall.

"Ahhh..owww.." Chet said, freezing as
Johnny held him hostage with a twist of just
one hand. "Hey come on, let go of m--"

Johnny wrist lifted higher. 
"Once more Chet, what does the B stand
for?"

"NOthing."

"What? I can't hear you."

"Nothing at all. It's just a nickname....AhhhHH."

"I don't beLIEVE you.." Gage singsonged.

"It's trueeeEEE! Hey let go.."

Cap's voice finally cracked out. "Gage..!"

Johnny instantly let go, smoothing out Chet's
collar where it had rumpled. "Next time..
You're gonna tell me.." and he walked back
over to Cap and knelt by the tiny oblivious
pup. "So, what shall we give to stand for little
Chester here's second letter of the alphabet's
initial eh? And it's just gotta be a "B"..." he smiled
lipped fully cocked. And he met everyone's eyes.
"Any suggestions?"

-------------------------------

Photo  : Cap glaring from his recliner.

Photo : A very cute brown and white beagle pup
            looking at you, eager faced.

Photo : Chet and Johnny squaring off, Roy looking
             on shaking his head in disbelief.

********************************
From : "satchie51" <satchie51@hotmail.com>  
Subject :  [EmergencyTheaterLive] Dinner Reservations     
Date : Fri, 22 Nov 2002 15:50:32 -0000  
 
Outside Mannie's Restaurant..

Kel reluctantly relinquished his car to the
restaurant's valet.  He walked toward the
entrance with the enthusiasm of a man facing his
executioner, not his own father.  Summoning his
resolve, he approached the maitre d'.

"Yes sir.  How may I help you?"

Taking a deep breath, he replied, "I'm joining
Dr. Brent Brackett for dinner."

The maitre d' nodded.  "Ah, yes.  He's been
expecting you.  Please come this way."

Numbly, Kel walked to the familiar table.  A
distinguished looking gentleman was already seated.
He glanced disapproving at his watch.  "You're
late.  I thought perhaps you changed your mind."

"I'm sorry.  Things got a bit hectic in the ER at
the last minute.  I didn't think I was going to
be able to get away," Kel apologized.

The elder Brackett appeared dubious.  "I see."

"Dad…"

"It would have been typical of you not to show up.
You've been avoiding me like the plague for ages."

Kel guiltily stared at his fingernails.  In truth,
he had initiated this dinner engagement at Dixie's
urging.  Over the past two days, however, he must
have considered at least a dozen excuses to cancel
this evening's plans.  Emotional intimacy had never
been his forte, especially with his father.  He
deliberately accepted the responsibility of two
additional patients after his shift ended in order
to stall for time.  That's why he was running
twenty minutes behind schedule.  Breaking the
awkward silence, Kel motioned to the waiter to
bring him a drink.

Brent raised his eyebrow.  "Am I that unpleasant
to be around that you need a drink?"

"No.  No, of course not.  It's been a long day,
and I'm tired and I'd like a scotch."  Noticing
the glass clutched in his father's hand, Kel
retorted, "I see you're imbibing in your usual
poison.  Do you need alcohol to feel comfortable
around your own son?"

"You're being ridiculous."

"Then stop interpreting my actions as though
there's a hidden psychological meaning behind
them.  Sometimes a cigar is just a cigar."

"Point taken," Brent conceded.  "So how has
work been, besides busy?"

"Pretty much the same," Kel shrugged.  "The
new hospital administrator doesn't appreciate
the value of the paramedic program to the
community, so I've been having some interesting
`discussions' lately."

"Do you want to talk about it?"

"Not really."

The other man thoughtfully steepled his fingers.
"Why not?"

"Dad, I'm not one of your patients, all right?"
Kel was developing an excruciating headache.
He began to methodically massage his right
temple.

"Kel, for crying out loud!  I'm a psychiatrist,
not a witch doctor.  It's an honorable profession.
Unfortunately, you've always acted like you were
ashamed of what I did for a living.  I didn't get
my degree out of a cereal box.  I went to medical
school at Harvard, and completed a residency and
fellowship at Johns Hopkins, perfectly respectable
institutions.  Somehow you never seemed to accept
my vocation as a `real' job.  Sitting in a plush
office and keeping a schedule didn't seem to fit
your definition of work."

"Don't you think this conversation is a little
one-sided?  As I recall, you weren't exactly
supportive of my educational choices either.  I
wanted to put myself through school so I wouldn't
feel pressured to follow in your footsteps.  I
waited on tables, parked cars and even worked as
an evening janitor at the university in order to
put myself through school.  Granted, I didn't have
the same Ivy League education you had, but I earned
my way through my own efforts, and I'm proud of that.
And I distinctly remember how horrified you were
when I announced I wanted to go into emergency
medicine.  You called it barbaric, and said I'd
wash out in a week."  Smiling smugly, Kel added,
"Well, I'm still here."

Shaking his head, Brent argued, "You still don't
understand what this is about, do you?"

"I presume you're going to enlighten me."

The father sighed in frustration.  "You've been
so blasted determined to escape from what you
perceived to be my shadow, you've been running
at full throttle most of your life.  You thought
my occupation was boring, so you chose the most
exciting one you could imagine, emergency medicine."

Kel pondered this thought while he took a sip
of his scotch.

"But don't you see?" Brent asked.  "You're still
acting like this is some bizarre competition
between us.  It's not, you know."

Mercifully, the waiter appeared to take their
order.  Kel had little appetite, but knew he was
expected to follow the ritual.  Without looking
at the menu, he mechanically recited the desired
items.  His anxiety was mounting with each passing
moment.  Concealed by the linen tablecloth, he was
clenching and unclenching his fists.

"Dad, I simply wanted to be my own man.  That's a
normal desire."

"That's true, if not taken to extremes.  But you
never know when to draw the line.  Everything is
all or nothing, black or white," his father chided.
When you decided to become a doctor, you couldn't
settle for just any specialty.  You had to outdo me
and prove you were better than your old man.  And
what could be more dramatically different than a
field that deals with life and death issues every
minute?"

His father's words cut him with the precision of
a surgeon's scalpel.  An uncomfortable feeling in
his stomach was making its presence known.  Kel
replied, "You've never accepted the fact that
we're totally different people with different
interests.  Maybe sitting around talking to people
all day long is your cup of tea, but it isn't mine.
I thrive on the excitement of the emergency room."

"What is it precisely that you find so appealing?
Is it the power you wield of being the head of the
department, or saving people's lives?"

Kel's famous temper flared.  "Saving people's lives,
of course!"

"And you don't think I help save people's lives?"
Brent shot back.  "You may have looked down upon
my profession and the scheduled hours I kept, but
they allowed me the luxury of being able to raise
a family and participate in a healthy social life.
On the other hand, you'd rather work like a maniac
to the exclusion of all else.  You're forty-two years
old and you have no life to speak of.  You're not able
to sustain relationships, and your time is essentially
confined to the hospital and your apartment."

Color began to drain from the younger man's face.
He was furious that his father would dare to presume
to lecture him, particularly in a public setting.

Undeterred, Brent continued.  "Even though we rarely
get together, we do work in the same hospital.  I
know you're working yourself into an early grave.
Your long hours and avoidance of vacations are
legendary.  But it's taking its toll on you.  You
look exhausted.  You're pale, you've lost weight
and you look like you're not sleeping well."

Incredulous, Kel warned, "This is none of your
business."

"You're my son.  That makes it my business."

A war waged within Kel.  He was angry with his
father for pursuing this line of conversation,
and with Dixie for insisting he schedule this
stupid meeting.  Most of all, he was angry with
himself for allowing events to unfold as they had.
After all these years, he should have known better
than to discuss certain topics with his father.
It was a foregone conclusion he would always lose
these heated debates.  The throbbing in his temple
worsened.

"Dad, you have no right to make judgments about
how I choose to live my life."

Brent leaned back in the leather-upholstered chair.
"Then answer me this question.  Did you succeed?"

Kel was thoroughly confused.  "Succeed in what?"

"Did you prove to yourself you're not me?"

"I don't understand."

"Obviously you thought I was so terrible that
you went through extraordinary measures to avoid
being like me.  In personality, temperament, interests,
profession, you've tried to be my opposite in every
way.  But you're a grown man now.  You've established
yourself."  Brent's tone softened and he gently placed
his hand on Kel's forearm.  "Son, if you're still
running away from something, do you even know where
you're running to?"

Suddenly Kel felt the room was closing in on him.
Overwhelmed by nausea, he bolted from the table
and raced to the men's room.  Standing over the
toilet, he proceeded to lose what little he had
eaten earlier in the day.

A few minutes later, he splashed his face with cold
water to revive himself.  He caught his reflection
in the mirror.  For the first time, he didn't see
the cocky, self-assured head of emergency services
at Rampart.  He saw an insecure little boy wanting
to be anyone but his father.

--------------------------------

No attachments.

*******************************
From :  "satchie51" <satchie51@hotmail.com>  
Subject : Shattered
Date : Sat, 23 Nov 2002 20:54:00 -0000  
   
   
Kel sat in his darkened apartment, contemplating
the evening's events.  Past experience conditioned
him not to expect a cordial relationship with his
father.  The best he could hope to achieve was a
peaceful coexistence, and the best way to accomplish
that objective was simple avoidance.

Yes, dear old Dad managed to undermine that plan.
Kel erroneously assumed when he moved to Los Angeles,
there would be adequate physical and emotional
distance to discourage contact from his father.
He planned to make perfunctory phone calls on
special occasions, and perhaps travel home to
Boston during the Christmas holidays.  But his
father ruined that brilliant theory.  Inexplicably,
six years ago he closed his posh private practice
and joined the staff at Rampart.

Justifiably, Kel was furious when he heard the
news from the hospital administrator.  His father
didn't even have the decency to notify him
personally, which he deemed unforgivable.  Through
hard work and perseverance, Dr. Kelly Brackett had
finally attained the level of professional success
he sought.  He was held in high esteem as the
director of emergency services of Rampart General
Hospital, and he was supremely confident in his
abilities.  Unfortunately, his father's arrival
signaled the return of his long and imposing shadow.
It seemed there was no escape.

Since that time, they both performed an exotic
dance around the hospital each day.  Kel would
arrive early in the emergency room and immerse
himself in the department's activities, pretending
nothing had changed.  Brent Brackett would appear
later in the morning and wordlessly take the
elevator to his ninth floor office.  Occasionally
the two men would pass each other in the corridors.
They would awkwardly acknowledge each other with
a nod of the head or a mumbled hello, and then
abruptly break off eye contact.  As a token of
atonement for missed father/son quality time, Kel
would arrange dinner at Mannie's once a month,
although he frequently found an excuse to miss
the appointments.  Simply being in the older
man's presence was humbling and painful.

It was hard to believe there was ever a brief
period in his life when he looked up to his
father and desperately sought his approval.
But over the years, the senior Dr. Brackett
couldn't resist the temptation to mold his son
into his own image.  He became critical of
Kel's brooding, intense nature, and began to
psychoanalyze his every act.  If there was some
behavior or shortcoming his son possessed,
there had to be a hidden psychological reason
behind it.  Therefore, it became his mission to
eradicate the offending conduct.  Brent did not
anticipate Kel's reaction.  Instead of meekly
complying to accommodate his father's grand
scheme, his headstrong son rebelled.  He was
determined to do the exact opposite of what was
demanded of him.  The relationship rapidly
deteriorated, and they never recaptured the
emotional intimacy they once shared.

Tonight's disastrous attempt at dinner only
reinforced Kel's growing sense of anxiety about
the situation.  How long could he continue this
absurd charade?

He walked over to the sliding patio door and
placed his palm against the cool glass.  It was
a moonless night.  Somehow it seemed appropriate
for his increasingly dark mood.  The more he
thought about his father's words, the angrier
he became.  In a blind moment of rage, Kel
slammed his hand against the door, shattering the
glass onto the balcony.  Stunned, he stared at the
blood dripping from his arm.  Several seconds
elapsed before the significance of his action sunk
in.  He was bleeding.

The calm, cool-headedness of his profession eluded
him.  Kel was emotionally dazed by the destructive
act he had just committed.  He wrapped his arm in
a kitchen towel as he fumbled through his medical
bag.  After superficially cleaning his wounds, he
applied some 4x4s as pressure dressings and wrapped
his arm with gauze.  In disbelief, he sat on his
couch and buried his face in his hands.

He lost track of how long he lingered there, when
a loud knock interrupted his trance.

"Police!  Is everything okay?"

Kel was totally confused.  What were the police
doing at his apartment?  He slowly roused himself
and answered the door.  "Yes, how can I help you?"

The policeman took in the physician's disheveled
appearance.  "Your neighbor called in a disturbance.
She heard the sound of broken glass and thought you
were being robbed."  Glancing at the bloodstained
bandages, the officer inquired, "Were you injured
in the attack?"

Confusion was quickly replaced by mortification
as Kel realized his careless deed had attracted
unwanted attention.  "No, there was no robbery.
It…it was an accident."

The seasoned officer was dubious.  Noting the
location of the bandages, he wondered if this was
a self-inflicted injury or perhaps a suicide
attempt.  "Why don't I take you to a hospital
to have that looked at?"

"No, that's okay," Kel assured him.  "I'm a
doctor.  I'll take care of it."

The blood continued to splatter on the floor as
they spoke.  "Sir, with all due respect, you
look like you could use a little help with that.
I'm sure it would only take a few minutes."

Reluctantly nodding his consent, he followed
the officer to his patrol car.  He dreaded
the inevitable barrage of questions he would
be subjected to at Rampart.

*     *     *     *     *

Now that the initial shock had worn off, Kel
was becoming increasingly anxious.  His demeanor
did not improve when the police officer insisted
on accompanying him into the emergency department.

Dr. Morton was the first person to notice his
boss' presence.  "Dr. Brackett!  What happened?"
he asked as he guided his mentor into a treatment
room.

"I had a little accident at home.  It's nothing,
really."

The officer surreptitiously motioned to speak
to the intern.  Mike said, "Okay.  Well, have
a seat and I'll grab some blank forms from
Carol.  I'll be right back."

Soon Mike returned, paperwork in hand.  He
efficiently took Kel's vital signs and frowned
at his findings.  "Hmm.  Your blood pressure is
really high.  Has it been elevated lately?"

"No," Kel wearily replied.

"Then there has to be a reason for the sudden
increase.  Is it reasonable to assume it's related
to the injury to your hand?"

A pronounced silence was his answer.

"How exactly did this happen?" Mike probed.

After taking a deep breath, Kel barked, "I cut
myself.  Isn't it obvious?"

"On purpose?"

"Of course not!  Do I look like an idiot?
The glass door shattered!"

Mike countered, "By itself?"

Kel glared at his subordinate.  How dare he
presume to press this issue and humiliate him
further.  He had given his account, and that
should end these ridiculous questions.

Sensing they were at an impasse, Mike began
unwrapping the blood soaked bandages.  "These
cuts look pretty nasty.  There doesn't appear
to be any vascular damage, but most of them are
deep enough to require stitches."

"Yeah, I figured as much."

"I'll have Carol get everything set up.
I'll be back in a moment."

Mike made a hasty retreat and headed for the
nurses' station.  A nagging feeling tickled
his brain.  Kel's behavior and his description
of the "accident" didn't add up.  Perhaps there
was a more sinister explanation.  "Carol, who's
on call for psych?"

She consulted the schedule.  "Uh, that would
be Dr. Brent Brackett."

The intern sadly shook his head.  In the first
place, it would be inappropriate to ask a family
member to consult on a case.  But it was also
common knowledge the son and father had a
strained relationship.  Mike was certain the
senior Dr. Brackett was NOT to be contacted in
case of an emergency.

He needed help in assessing whether Kel needed
to be held for psychiatric observation in light
of the deep slashes to his arm.  Turning to the
nurse, Mike said, "Page Dr. Early.  I need him
here as soon as possible for a consult, and tell
him who the patient is."  He waved Maggie over to
the desk.  "I need your assistance in Treatment
Room 3."

They entered to find an agitated Kelly Brackett
awaiting their return.  "What took you so long?
Let's get this over with so I can go home."

Mike removed his glasses and rubbed the bridge
of his nose.  "I had a call I had to take care
of."

Kel impatiently offered his injured arm to
the intern.  "Well, get to work."

Knowing it would take about fifteen minutes
for Joe to reach Rampart, Mike carefully
cleaned the wounds and began suturing the deep
gashes.  Fearful of antagonizing his boss,
he kept conversation to an absolute minimum.
He was enormously relieved when he heard Joe's
gentle voice break the eerie silence of the room.

"Hey, Kel.  I heard you had a little mishap.
How are you doing?"

Mike concentrated on the task at hand, well
aware of the menacing gaze that was being
directed at him.

"I'm fine," Kel growled.  "Did they call you?"

"Yeah.  They're a little worried about you,"
Joe said reassuringly.

"Well, they shouldn't be.  I only need a few
stitches and I'll be on my way."

The white-haired physician sat down and folded
his arms.  "Kel, think about it from our point
of view.  A police officer brings you in.
You're stressed.  You have several deep gashes
on your arm, and you're less than forthcoming
about how they got there.  What would normal
procedure be?"

A light bulb went off in Kel's head.  "Cr*p.
A psych consult would probably be ordered."

"Do you know why this wasn't done?"

"Because I'm the head of the department and
Mike didn't want to embarrass me?"

Joe informed him, "No.  It's because your
father was on call tonight."

"I don't believe this!" Kel shouted.  "I can't
get away from that man!"  He wildly jumped
off the table, unexpectedly pushing Mike away
as he was still suturing the wounds.

"Kel, settle down!" Joe commanded.

"You don't understand.  I just spent a
miserable evening with him.  I've spent most
of my entire life trying to break away from
his grasp.  But no matter what I do or where
I go, there is he is!"

The picture was coming into focus.  Joe
needed time alone with his friend.  "Mike, I'll
take care of this.  Thanks for everything."

After the door closed, Joe began.  "Come back
and have a seat and we'll talk while I finish
sewing you up."

With the enthusiasm of a lamb being led to the
slaughter, Kel lowered his head and made his
way to the exam table.  "I'm sorry," he
muttered.

"About?"

"Causing so much trouble for everyone.  I
try to keep my personal life private.  But I
guess everyone knows my father and I aren't
exactly on the best of terms."

"What happened this evening that was so
upsetting?" Joe asked.

"Oh, the usual."  Kel tried to sound nonchalant.
"We each have our own unique perspective on
things."

"That never caused you to put your hand through
glass before."

The dark-haired man's temper quickly flared,
and then dissipated.  "Well, I think in his own
warped way he was trying to extend an olive
branch, except it was thinly disguised as a
reiteration of my faults since childhood.
Suddenly, it all seemed so infuriating."

His task complete, Joe began applying a dressing.
"You know, you're a lot alike in one respect.
You're both stubborn."

A small smile crept across Kel's features.  "I
come by the trait honestly."

"Look, this problem isn't going to solve itself.
You're here, he's here, you need to get together
and work this out."

"You sound like Dixie."

Joe grinned, "She's a smart cookie."

"Don't encourage her!" Kel laughed.  "She already
thinks she runs the department!"

"She doesn't?"

Kel's mood sobered.  "I suppose I need to tell
her about this before she hears it from someone
else."  He rose to his feet.  "I'll give her a
call from my office."

"I have a better idea.  You can call her from
my place," Joe proposed.

"That's not necessary."

His colleague firmly insisted, "I want you to
come home with me tonight.  After you call Dix,
I'll give you something to help you unwind and
get a good night's sleep.  Take tomorrow off and
collect your thoughts.  In a week or so when you
feel up to it, call your dad and make another
dinner appointment.  Maybe if you're the one
offering the olive branch, you'll find the peace
terms more agreeable."

"After all these years, I'm afraid to hope," Kel
admitted.

"But at least you'll be able to find comfort in
knowing you tried."

Tossing his coat over his shoulder, Kel followed
his friend out the door.

---------------------------------

No attachments. 

***********************************
From: "Linda Taggatz" <doc51@att.net> 
Date: Sat, 23 Nov 2002 21:31:45 -0600 
Subject: Re: Shattered   


Kel and Joe soon arrived  at Joe's apartment. 
It was cozy. In one corner stood a piano.
 
"Nice place  Joe." Kel said as he looked around.
"Thanks." Joe told Kel to take the coat off and 
toss it on the chair. Kel complied, then sat down.
 
Kel  put his  head in his hands. "I don't know anymore 
Joe. I don't know what to say to him. Maybe if  we 
start talking about mom things will relax. But then, 
he never wants to talk about her."
 
Joe  got curious. "Why is that?"
 
Kel shook his head and said "I wish I knew."


--------------------------------

No attachments.

***********************
From : "patti keiper" <pattik1@hotmail.com>  
Subject : Breakfast Banter Buffet Style  
Date : Mon, 25 Nov 2002 15:21:22 +0000  
   
 
Breakfast Banter Buffet Style

>Cap's voice finally cracked out. "Gage..!"

>Johnny instantly let go, smoothing out Chet's
>collar where it had rumpled. "Next time..
>You're gonna tell me.." and he walked back
>over to Cap and knelt by the tiny oblivious
>pup. "So, what shall we give to stand for little
>Chester here's second letter of the alphabet's
>initial eh? And it's just gotta be a "B"..." he smiled
>lipped fully cocked. And he met everyone's eyes.
>"Any suggestions?"

There was a brief pause, for the briefest moment,
as Chet walked through the kitchen doors leading
to the garage bay and the quiescent fire vehicles
parked there. Kelly almost whispered his suggestion,
".....Bartholomew." and he trudged morosely towards
the bunkroom.

Gage and the others froze into place in their tight ring 
around Cap. Even Cap's finger paused, from stroking 
the little beagle's sleeping forehead. "W-W- What did 
he say?"

"Oh my G*d. I don't believe it.." Marco said. "He said
Bartholomew.."

"Yeah, but was that a suggestion for Chester or was
that in reply to Gage putting on a little elbow grease
to Chet's moustache?" Stoker asked them all.

Cap's eyes bugged out and all his smile lines smoothed
out in rapt frankness. "The world may never know.."

The gang chuckled in reply, but not Gage. 

Yipp! barked the sleeping puppy in his dream. The fellas
immediately fell to shushing each other and tiptoed 
out of the kitchen, leaving Cap the honor of spending
the first night with the new station mascot. Johnny's self 
satisfied smirk at a successful Chet tease fizzled into 
uncertainty as he pondered Stoker's musing. When they 
all were well out of the range of young canine ears, Gage 
asked his partner. "Whatdidya think, Roy? Whaa -- uh, 
which way do you think we should take Chet's answer..?"

"Careful, Johnny. Don't get into it too much. Or you just
may have a complex about it." Roy answered as he
peeled shirt and pants down to boxers and a T shirt
and sailed with an amused clunk onto his bunk. "You
know how devious Chester B can get when it comes
to getting you back for muscling around with him."

Johnny's face alternately smiled and fell as he
regarded Chet Kelly slumbering for all the world
like King Nebenezzer on his bunk with his
fingers laced nonchalantly over his chest.

Gage turned his back on the sight, not sure about
whether or not Chet was smiling or frowning.
::Can't tell behind that d*mned moustache..::
he groaned mentally, shifting irritably onto a 
shoulder to try and forget about it.

Sleep was a long time in coming.

----------------------------------------

Breakfast was spread out like a posse's 
standard grub with a partial roasting steer 
the next day. The guys, feeling guilty about
tricking Cap into spending first nightwatch
over Chester, fed him right where he was,
in the armchair. Stoker had even gone out into
the yard and had picked Hank a magnolia
for a bud vase with the breakfast tray he 
hand delivered to him.

"Guys, you didn't have to do this.." Cap said,
rubbing sleep mussed hair and his face as
he shifted his weight in the chair gingerly around
the still oblivious Chester Bartholomew lying like
a tiny sack of potatoes in his lap.

"Oh, yes we do, Cap. I mean, what fireman in
any firehouse is more self sacrificial than a Cap?
Am I right fellas?" Chet asked, shoving buttered
toast into his hungry maw. He chewed, puffed
cheeked as he added. "Made an example of
all of us, for ditchin him and keepin him all last 
night away from the comfort of Cap's own bed." 
he said. He took a gulp of his too hot coffee a 
little too fast and started choking a bit. 

Roy gave his back a thump or two as he 
reached for a green apple from the fruit basket
in front of the breakfast rib roast Stoker 
had smoking on the spit all last night. "Easy 
there Chet. Don't talk, chew." DeSoto said, 
taking a half moon bite out of his fruit.

"Yeah.." Gage agreed, his own cheeks big
with bagel. "I wanna get through chow without
a still alarm, Kelly, if you don't mind.."

"Very funny Gage. Tell me something there, uh,
buddy. What uh, what is YOUR middle name if
you don't mind me turning the tables on ya.
And I'll just ask it since you don't have any facial
hair for me to grab onto.."

Marco nearly spit out his fresh squeezed pineapple
juice chortling. Stoker rescued him with a toss
of a folded towel. When the light laughter bubbled
away into sounds of contented eating, Lopez 
said, "Yeah, Gage. You don't have anything on
the back of your turnout coat. Just "Gage".  "

"My secret.. So shush.."

Chet didn't give him any further clues to answering
Gage's Chet mystery by responding back.

Cap looked up from where he was adjusting a
china blue bowl filled with steamed water
moistened puppy chow on his breakfast tray
under a ravenous Chester's face. The little one
was eating so fast, he was snorting and almost
tipping nose up into the food. "Whoops, slow
down there Chester Bartholomew.. or you'll
end up as fat as ol Henry used to be.."

Chet looked up suddenly from his paper as
if he was the one addressed. Just as quickly,
Chet shot eyes back down to his plate.

Johnny's eyes narrowed suspiciously when he
saw that reaction. But for the life of him, he 
couldn't tell whether or not Kelly had thought
Cap was speaking about him or the new puppy.
::I coulda told that a lot better if Kelly grabbed
his stomach or something too, then, at Cap's
comment. "Man.. I'll never find out my answer.."
he grumbled to Roy.

The guys laughed.

"Yeah well, this too, shall pass. No doubt you
and Chet will live to fight another day.." DeSoto said,
regarding which piece of his sliced apple to devour
next with his milk. Then he chose two at the 
same time and followed up with a thick bite
of BBQ beef rib. He was the only one eating
with a fork. The others were eating off the bone,
including Chester Bartholomew.

"Not if he keeps eating so fast like that he won't."
Gage said cheek muffled with a beefy spear,
glaring at Kelly.

"I got a fine example of how obstructed airways
happen, too, Roy, right in my line of sight.."
Chet said, in retort back, making runway guide
motions right at his current source of verbal
torment sitting across the table from him.

"Peace you two.." Cap said, finally extricating
himself from the recliner, leaving Chester
happily diving into what was left on his tray.
Captain Stanley saundered over to the bulletin
board and snatched down the weekly rounds
chart board. He was the only one still in a blue
uniform. The gang was still in T-shirts and pullover
pants-and-boots. "The weekly fire violation 
rounds list. Today, only one on the books."

"Aww Cap, can't it wait until after breakfast? Turns
my stomach learning about folks who like living
in a fire hazard zone instead of following codes."
Chet complained.

"Shutup and chew.." Cap replied. "You're gonna hear
this one. In fact, all of you might have an invested 
interest in this case."

"Oh?" Roy grunted.

"Yeah." Cap replied. "We have an excessive brush violation
at....213 East Morrow Drive..."

All jaws stopped chewing when they remembered that
the address belonged to one very very nice old man
living in a very very creepy looking old house.

Gage's mouth crooked open in regret. "Aww, Cap. We
can't go handing out a fine to kindly ol Mr. Fajou.. I really 
like that guy. Wouldn't be nice of us to leave it tacked
onto his front door like that to find once he gets outta
the hospital.." he added sarcastically.

Stanley snapped back defensively light. "You got any better
ideas?"

"Yeah..I do." Lopez said. "Come guys, we got nothing better
to do this weekend, and I know that for a fact because
there's no games in town. Why don't we just skip out on 
our normal routines and go over there to do a little weed 
control ourselves. It'd be easy for us. We're licensed to 
do a controlled burn."

Both of Cap's eyebrows climbed up into his hairline.
"Hey, that's a wonderful idea. We can all trade shifts 
mutually with Saturday's crew in trade for Friday and
get this done for the old guy. I can have Eight's brush 
truck sent over for Stoker to use."

There came a chorus of eager yes's and O.k.'s all
around. Even another yip from Chester where he
sat in the recliner near the licked clean dish tray.

All heads turned. "Wow." Stoker remarked. "Maybe
we found ourselves a new dish washer. Just look
at Cap's tray. Clean as a whistle.."

"Heh... Don't give him any bright ideas.." Cap
said. "That's just a first morning privilege."
he grumbled. "Wouldn't want him to pick up
any really bad habits from us now would we..?"

Chet made a show of licking BBQ off his plate
by lapping it like a dog.

"Very funny Kelly.." Cap said. "For that, you get
latrine duty this morning.."

"Awww, Cap.."

"Aww, nothing. When you make Cap, you can
find ways to delegate the more unpleasant firehouse
duties in the least painful ways to your crew, too,
just like I did.." he chipped up.

"You're all heart.." Kelly mumbled.

"What's that, Kelly. Didn't quite hear you? My other
inferiorly ranked men are all laughing too hard."

"I said, uh, you're so smart." Chet said, stirring his
grits morosely. Then his eyes shot up in alarm. 'Uh,
I don't mean "smart" as in sarcastic, Cap. At least 
not in, uh,, not in...that case..." he trailed off sheepishly,
and escaped into the newspaper to hide from 
the moment in hot water.

"Let's hope not, Kelly. The hoses in the tower
need to be reloaded.."

Chet was a mouse behind the funnies section.

Stoker and Marco's hands raised up. "Give it to us Cap.
Only fair.."Mike said. "We got out of it last time due to
a timely dumpster fire call."

"Good men.. Kelly, did you see that? Lopez
and Stoker actually volunteered to do one
of the sweaty jobs." Cap said.

"Yeah, well I don't see them lining up for the 
smelly one.." Chet groused.

"Quit eating like a horse and maybe the
bathrooms would smell a little better in
the morning Chet.." Gage retorted.

"Yeah, I had to use a half can of Lysol
Disinfectant just to breathe earlier.." Marco
quipped, joining Gage's bandwagon.

"I can't help it.." Chet said. "I was born with
an efficient colon. At least I don't let them
loose while giggling at erotic dreams in my sleep
like Marco over here."

"I do not.." Marco protested vehemently.

Gage sniggered. "Uh, is that in reply to part
A or part B of Chet's previous sentence Marco.
Your crewmates would really really like to know."

Marco just glared. "You try working in a firehouse
with a mama who stuffs YOU full of beans and
enchiladas just before your twenty four hours on
shifts, I'd say you'd be tooting them too."

"I'll stick with the engine's horn thanks.." Mike
said.

Gage scored a point in the air for Stoker.
"Ok, ok, that explains the gassier aspects
of your nightly exploits. Now, tell us about
your dreams, Marco Lopez.... Is she cute?"

"I'm Catholic!" Marco protested. "I don't
have to confess to you.."

"You might as well.." Gage warned in jest.
"I see a greaaattt moustache gripping handle
there under your nose..." and he rose in
his chair.

"Cap!!" Marco squeaked.

Johnny was already in his chair and chewing his
last bite of food by the time Cap's eyebrow was
fully cocked into the firing position. Hank settled
out of his warning glare and continued chewing
the piece of apple he had stolen from Roy's
plate. "What? I see no problem here. Except
for maybe a stack or two of too many dishes.
Lopez. Dish detail."

"Awww, Cap. I thought you were supposed to
safeguard your men." Marco said.

"I just did. Do you see Gage pinning you against
the wall where he had Kelly squirming last night?"

"No."

"Good, then hop to it. Stoker was the one who
cooked today. Gage, you got floor detail, a full
wet mop job. DeSoto, vehicle buffing, chrome
only. Looks like rain today."

"Well what about you, Cap?" Lopez still singing, 
stung.

"I have a new chore. I get to show Chester here
where to go..."he grinned. And he hefted up his
little charge and wandered out cooly into the yard.


The guys all rose from the breakfast table and
fell to.

Johnny was grinning at Marco's still red face from Chet
revealing out a night secret so boldly, but even he
wouldn't poke a man when he was down. ::Well,
not a fire fighting coworker at any rate, just a victim
on a scene to learn a consciousness level. Heh.:: he
thought. Then he said, "Say Roy.. Us going out this
weekend to help ol' Mr. Fajou is really gonna be
fun. I mean, Vince's got the keys to his place, right?
Maybe we can even all go in and clean up his kitchen
too for him."

Roy angled his head skeptically as he helped Lopez
grumpily stack plates as he carried each armload
to the sink. "I don't know, Johnny. Most gourmet
cooks don't like people messing with their kitchens."

"Who's to say Mr. Fajou is a gourmet chef? Well,
maybe a pastry baking one.." he admitted. "Still wouldn't
hurt to do this good deed thing a notch or two better."
he grinned cockeyed.

Chet piped up. "Yeah, maybe we can learn what's
finally in that basement of his and in all those other
creepy rooms, man."

Johnny waggled his head. "I don't think Mr. Fajou
would appreciate us snooping around his house
now would you?" he moaned caustic.

"Gage, that place's an historic landmark.."

"You mean a haunted one.." Stoker quipped from
around the newspaper.

Kelly went on as if he hadn't heard Mike interrupt 
him. "...Mr. Fajou probably gives movie tours to the
studio kids he bakes for all the time. I mean uh,
what's the difference if it's kids or firemen getting
thrilled to death in there..?"

"A big one, Chet Kelly. The poor guy deserves
a little privacy in his own home.." he insisted.

Kelly's eyes hit the table and his fidgetting fingers
drumming there."Looks more like the old guy 
needs a friend or two Johnny.." Chet said. "We 
can always act scared and nervous when he gets 
back and gives us a tour for doing his yardwork 
this weekend."

Roy grinned, folding his arms over his shoulders.
"There's that, Johnny. Come on, give in to a little
curiosity..." 

"Nice sentiment Roy, aren't you Catholic too?"
Gage said. 

"Doing a nice thing for somebody else isn't
a sin.." he replied. 

Marco agreed firmly. "Look it up.."

John shot both of them a disgusted look.

Then the alarm went off, for a full station call.
##Station 51, Engine 18, Truck 127. Battalion
14. Truck overturn with a chemical spill on the
Pacific Coast Highway at Southbound mile marker
513. Multiple vehicular involvement.Truck overturn 
on the PCH at Southbound mile marker 513. Cross 
street Dungeness. PD reports approach with caution. 
Be advised. An unknown gas cloud has prompted 
start of evacuation action from the CHP. Timeout,  
07:10. ##

Cap's shoes came pelting by the kitchen door and
he received the call as the men moved out. He handed 
off Chester B to Roy who left the bewildered
young pup safely on the recliner. "Be good pal. See
you when we get back." DeSoto told the little dog,
rushing out.

Cap acknowledged the run. "Station 51, 10-4. 
KMG 365.."

The entire company rolled out.......

----------------------------------------


Photo: A very sleepy Beagle pup.

Photo: Roy and John getting set for resting on
          their firehouse bunks.

Photo: Chet Kelly sleeping like King Nebenezzer.

Photo : Station 51's rescue call speaker.

*animated gif*  A massive fireball explosion mushroom cloud.

Photo: A gas cloud at an accident scene enveloping two running  
           people.

********************************
From :  "SM Fortis" <satchie51@hotmail.com>  
Subject : [EmergencyTheaterLive] The Restaurant Confessional  
Date :  Wed, 27 Nov 2002 09:42:38 -0600  
   

Grateful to be home in his own apartment, Kel
stretched out on the couch.  Despite Joe’s
advice he wait awhile before scheduling another
reconciliation attempt, Kel promptly contacted
his father and made reservations for dinner that
evening.  Patience never had been his greatest
virtue.  His colleague was right in one respect.
If Kel dictated the terms of the meeting and tried
to keep the conversation on message, perhaps he
would feel more in control of the situation.  He
was determined not to feel powerless in the presence
of Brent Brackett again.

Since his return home, Dixie called twice to make
sure he was okay.  To combat his growing anxiety,
Kel occupied himself by spending most of the
afternoon performing errands and browsing at a
jazz record store Joe was always raving about.
After purchasing a couple of albums, he glanced
at his watch and headed back to his apartment.

He was pleased to discover the patio door was
already replaced.  One unpleasant reminder of the
previous evening’s events was now conveniently
eradicated.  Unfortunately, the stark white bandages
wrapping his right hand and arm were still grim
reminders of his angry outburst.  Kel cringed at
the memory of his senseless act.

Placing his package on the table, he headed toward
his bedroom and began rummaging through his closet
for an appropriate suit.  After a quick shower and
shave, Kel changed clothes and left ahead of schedule.
He thought if he arrived at the restaurant first,
he would feel less intimidated by his father.  He
was resolved not to leave in humiliation again.

The maitre d’ promptly greeted Kel and ushered
him to his table.  He briefly closed his eyes and
drew a deep breath, trying to prepare himself for
the exchange that awaited him.  Looking through
the windows, Kel saw a spectacular sunset.  Somehow
the scene comforted and encouraged him.  The advice
of his friends was at the forefront of his mind
right now.  The sooner he could establish some
common ground with his father, the sooner their
fractured relationship could begin to heal.

Shortly thereafter, the elder Brackett was escorted
to the table.  Kel rose not only as a point of
etiquette, but also as a token of respect.  Brent
offered his hand in greeting, and suddenly Kel
felt self-conscious about his injury.  Pasting
an uncomfortable smile on his face, he gingerly
shook his father’s hand.

Brent frowned.  "What happened to your arm?"

"Oh, I had a little accident at home.  I’m fine."
Eager to deflect attention from himself, Kel asked,
"Did you have any problems finding the restaurant?"

"No, not at all.  Your directions were quite
specific."  Appreciatively eyeing the premises,
Brent remarked, "This place has a very cozy
atmosphere.  How did you happen upon this amazing
little discovery?"

Kel inwardly smiled at the memories of many pleasant
evenings he shared with Dixie here.  "A friend
introduced me to it several years ago.  I hoped
the change of venue would provide a fresh start
for us.  There would be no ghosts from the past
to haunt us."  Signaling the waiter, he ordered
a round of drinks for the two of them, preferring
club soda for himself.  He decided he could not
afford to have his thoughts clouded by alcohol,
nor his famous temper unleashed by lowered
inhibitions.  No, tonight Kel needed his complete
faculties.

His father’s brow furrowed.  "You’re not having
your usual?"

"I’m taking some medication," Kel lied.

"I heard you took a rare day off today.  Is
everything okay?"

That was the problem with a small community like
Rampart, news traveled fast.  How much did his
father know about last night?  Kel’s answer was
evasive.  "I had some personal business to attend
to."

"I have to admit, I was surprised to hear from you
this afternoon," Brent said.  "I thought our last
meeting went rather badly."

Taking a sip of his drink, Kel proceeded, "That’s
why I wanted to see you again so soon.  I think
we’ve allowed this situation to go on long enough.
Don’t you agree?"

His father sighed.  "So, has the prodigal son
experienced some glorious epiphany since we last
met?"

"Dad, I’m simply tired of this ridiculous state
of affairs.  We’ve been at odds since I was a kid.
Okay, I’m not a brilliant psychiatrist, so maybe
I’m too dense to understand the official psychobabble
explanation.  But I’m smart enough to know this
standoff has come to an end."

"You always have been willful."

The men were granted a respite when the waiter
came to take their order.  They sat in silence
for several minutes, each studiously avoiding
contact.  It was painfully obvious neither felt
comfortable in the other’s presence.

Finally, Brent addressed his son.  "I understand
you were upset with me last night."

Kel shot his father a baleful glare.  "We’re not
here to discuss MY problems.  We’re here to
discuss OURS."

"Okay, so what’s really on your mind?"

Attempting to keep his tone of voice devoid of
emotion, Kel asked, "Why DID you move to Los
Angeles?  Of all the places in the country you
could have relocated to, why did you have to move
here, and why did you choose to practice at
Rampart?"

Brent stared at the table centerpiece.  "Your mother
wanted the two of us to make amends.  Since it
was obvious you weren’t going to make the first
step, she thought I should swallow my foolish pride
and initiate the process."

"I don’t understand."

"When you were a boy, we used to enjoy spending
time together, as strange as that seems now.  We
went almost everywhere together."  A small smile
escaped Brent’s lips.  "I used to take you to the
hospital with me, and you’d tell anyone who would
listen that you were my son, and you were going to
be a doctor like me when you grew up."

The older man remorsefully shook his head.  "But
soon your youthful boasts appealed to my vanity.
I envisioned you as my own immortality, so I wanted
to remold you in my image.  Since you were always
so willing to please me, I assumed you would be
agreeable to this arrangement.  I honestly pictured
us spending quality time together over the years,
and in due time, I foresaw the day when you would
take your rightful place as my partner in my
clinical practice."

"But it didn’t quite work out that way," Kel said
flatly.

"Unfortunately, it didn’t.  I pushed you away
instead. In my arrogance, I refused to recognize
you as a unique individual.  You always had a
sense of your own identity."

"I resented you dictating my life," Kel stated.
"You never bothered to ask me if I wanted to
participate in your grand plans or not.  All I
knew is one day I was Dad’s precious son who
could do no wrong, and then the next you found
fault with everything I did.  No detail was too
insignificant to escape your exacting scrutiny.
I thought you didn’t love me anymore."

"But that was the problem," Brent explained.  "I
loved you too much, but in an unhealthy way.  Ironic,
isn’t it?  Here I was, a well-renown psychiatrist,
but I wasn’t able to see I was sabotaging our
relationship.  Every time you rebelled and became
angrier, I became more critical.  Because you failed
to conform, I assumed you were stupid and ungrateful.
I felt like a failure not only as a father, but also
as a psychiatrist.  My ego wouldn’t allow me to admit
I had failed.  Until the day you left, I had to keep
trying to remake you."

Kel rubbed his face.  "Why didn’t you say anything
before?

"Saying ‘I’m sorry’ has never come easily to me.
I didn’t realize the full implications of what I
had done to you until you were gone.  By that time,
we were barely speaking to each other.  Over the
years, begging for forgiveness became next to
impossible."

Conflicting emotions swirled within Kel.  He was
angry with his father for not mentioning any of
this earlier, but he understood how difficult it
must have been for him to do so tonight.  Kel
took after his father in that respect.  It was
not in his nature to cross emotional barriers
without significant effort.  If it were not for
the encouragement of Dixie and Joe, he would not
be here this evening having this conversation.
He knew he was hardly in a position to judge his
father on this particular point.

But he also felt a myriad of other feelings:
abandonment, betrayal, resentment, bewilderment
and surprisingly, still even love.  Kel saw his
father with new eyes.  Brent didn’t look so arrogant
and controlling now.  Instead, he came across as an
aging pathetic figure that once hoped to live forever
through his son.

For a long period of time, the two men did not
speak.  They were content to nurse their drinks
and stare into oblivion.  They were relieved when
the waiter served the food.  For a few moments
they would be spared the necessity of having to
engage in conversation.

As they began to eat, Brent looked on with genuine
concern since Kel seemed to have trouble carving
his steak due to his injured hand.  "Do you need
any help with that?" he offered.

"No, that’s okay, I have it under control.  I’m
pretty good with a knife, if I do say so myself,"
Kel grinned.

"I see you haven’t lost your sense of modesty
over the years."

The son shrugged.  "It’s hard to be humble and
great at the same time."

"You’re a lot like your mother in some ways, very
resilient and single-minded.  I know you tend to
think of it as a sign of weakness, but you’re more
compassionate like she is."  Brent softly said,
"After all these years, your mother has never
forgiven me for driving you away from us.  I’m
not sure I’ve forgiven myself."

Kel was confused.  He wasn’t sure what he expected
from this evening’s meeting, but his father’s
uncharacteristic confession certainly wasn’t it.
He shifted uncomfortably in his chair.  Recent
conversations with Dixie and Joe weighed heavily
upon his conscience.  Years of hurt could not be
easily erased with a simple apology.  Yet, they
needed to begin somewhere.  He thought of his mother,
and the years of anguish this rift must have caused
her.  Didn’t he at least owe it to her to make an
effort?

Staring at his nearly full plate, Kel tentatively
cleared this throat.  "Dad, as you’ve pointed out
before, I’ve never been good at maintaining
relationships.  But maybe now is a good time to
begin.  Don’t you think it’s time we started
behaving like two grown men and put aside our
differences, if for no other reason than for
Mom’s sake?"

"I don’t even know where to begin," Brent said
reluctantly.

Cautiously leaning forward, Kel spoke.  "Perhaps
it’s time for you to visit me in my office for a
change.  You know, see me in my natural habitat?
It’s possible I subconsciously went into emergency
medicine to spite you or to prove something to myself.
But somewhere along the way I discovered it was
my passion.  I really love this field, and I’m
good at it.  I can’t imagine being happier anywhere
else but the emergency room of Rampart.  What do
you say, Dad?"

Brent considered his son’s proposal.  "I don’t know.
I heard the head of the department can be a real
bear and a force to be reckoned with."

"No, those are all vicious rumors," Kel chuckled.
"He’s a real pussycat once you get to know him.
At least that’s what the head nurse is fond
of pointing out."

"Speaking of the head nurse, do I have your
reassurances she’s not going to bite my head
off if I set foot in the ER?  She must think
I give you such grief."

"No, Dad.  In fact, she’s one of the reasons
I called you.  Dixie has been after me for ages
to get me to end this conflict.  She’s a
persistent woman."

"Sounds like your mother," Brent joked.  The two
men laughed.  For the first time all evening, they
felt genuinely relaxed.

"How about meeting me in my office for coffee
tomorrow morning?" Kel asked.  "I can give you
a tour of my department."  With a tinge of a
little boy’s expectation in his voice he added,
"Hopefully you’ll be proud of what your son has
become."

-------------------------------------------

Photo:  Kel in a gray suit.

Photo : A California sunset.

Photo: Posh brick rustic restaurant's interior.

Photo : Joe Early by the coffee mug shelf.

Photo : Dixie looking no nonsense and listening.

Photo : Dr. Brackett answering a rescue intercom call.

Photo : Kel in the coffee lounge, closeup. 

**********************************
From : "Cory Anda" <andacory@hotmail.com>  
Subject : Mad Dash...  
Date : Thu, 28 Nov 2002 08:20:24 +0000

Offstory: 

Acknowledgements Firehouse.com HazMatZone 
http://www.firehouse.com/training/hazmat/studies/2002/03_ammonia.html
For information about anhydrous ammonia spills and detailed
hazardous material clean up procedures.

Acknowledgements to Tom Stafford  MD Firefighter/Captain 
On Foam Truck Hazmat Procedures via email. 

Acknowledgements to P. Keiper NREMT, for first aid advice
treating such exposures for characters in story and finding
anhydrous related image jpegs for me.

Back In Story:  
   


> ##Station 51, Engine 18, Truck 127. Battalion
>14. Truck overturn with a chemical spill on the
>Pacific Coast Highway at Southbound mile marker
>513. Multiple vehicular involvement.Truck overturn 
>on the PCH at Southbound mile marker 513. Cross 
>street Dungeness. PD reports approach with caution. 
>Be advised. An unknown gas cloud has prompted 
>start of evacuation action from the CHP. Timeout,  
>07:10. ##

>Cap acknowledged the run. "Station 51, 10-4. 
>KMG 365.."

>The entire company rolled out.......

----------------------------------------

Roy sped the squad down the boulevard
as Johnny doubled checked the exact
location of access to the scene in his head.
"The best exit to use for that ramp is
the PCH itself, Roy. That part of the freeway
wraps around a bend in a canyon. Let's hope
whatever the gas is coming from this spill 
doesn't float too high. There are about sixty
homes in the area on the bluffs." Johnny finally
said.

"Let's hope for the best." DeSoto replied.

The communications channel patched between
all responding units was in a flurry of activity.
They could hear Highway Patrol chattering urgently
as they continued their evacuation of the cars in
the area, and one merchant's business. Then, 
came the reassuring voice of Battalion 14, already
on scene. 
##Battalion 14 to Station 51. Approach from the
Southbound direction, downwind of the wreck,
two cars and one semitruck are involved. Wear full
SCBA turnout and stay out of the area until Hazmat
moves in. The truck involved is a NH3 nurse truck with
confirmed top tank valve leakage.## 

John and Roy heard Cap pick up the mike,
"Batallion 14, Station 51. Acknowledged. Southbound
entry in full respiratory apparatus, understood."

"Oh, great.." John moaned. "Anhydrous ammonia. All our
turnout jackets might as well be paper suits for all the 
protection they'll give us once we're in there."

Roy glanced at his partner. "Yeah, well, let's just
hope the Santa Anas keep the cloud blowing away
from us.. Shouldn't be a problem today..."

"I wouldn't bet on it. Look." Johnny said. In the sky,
rare, heavy rainclouds were blowing in off the ocean to
their left as they sped ahead of the Ward LaFrance. "If
that rain gets here. That spill's gonna go. You know 
how reactive anhydrous is to free water.."

Soon, the thickening stalled traffic made Roy slow,
and two CHP motorcycles joined up with them to show
them the twisting curving route to the accident scene
in between the stopped, now emptied cars on the 
roadway.

"Wow, they acted fast. There're no bystander victims
on the curbs." Johnny said. "Amazing.. That gas cloud's
huge.."

Through the windshield of the squad, a tenuous white
steam-like misting of gas fumes,were pooling against 
the cliffs around the truck in a long plume, carrying downwind.

Then they saw it. The involved truck, it was upright,
almost intact. But beneath it lay a sportscar and one
woman, fouled and trapped behind her crumpled
steering column. Truck 127's men were already on
scene with bottles and masks advancing on her
with mist fanning hoses into the air to dissolve away
any lingering swirls of ammonia from over her location.

Roy screeched to a halt two hundred yards from the truck.
"Gotta stop here. If that gas cloud doubles back, it'll
corrode the vehicles."

"Not to mention us, too." Gage said grimly. "She must
be alive. They're spraying a defensive pattern over her.."

DeSoto and Gage rushed out of the squad cab and met
up with Cap and the gang in a hurried group as they
all grabbed SCBA and pulled out high volume water hoses.
Roy and John had their air bottles and masks on in
less than a minute. "Cap...?" Roy asked, ready for
instant instructions.

Hank Stanley stood, his helmet off in hand, holding his
mask to his face and he motioned them all nearer.
"I want you all to take a look at where the liquid
puddles are now. Remember where they are when
you start laying down water. That is where the ammonia
lies. It's subliming into gas and it's -28 F. Watch your
step or your clothes and shoes will freeze burn to
your skin faster than dry ice! If you get any liquid on you,
start stripping off all clothing immediately and get
under a firm wash.. and don't stop hosing down. 
Only way to thaw those kinds of burns. Any fumes
will dessicate your eyes and mucous membranes
on contact. And the only thing that will help it is
water. Tons of it.  Oh, and I don't think I have
to tell any of you guys to avoid other engine 
companies hose runoff. Anhydrous is caustic 
ammonium hydroxide when diluted with water 
until its through absorbing water to satiation.
Don't worry about sparks from extrication equipment.
This stuff's not flammable out in the open.
The gas cloud will turn transparent as it spreads but
you'll be able to smell it long before you reach a
dangerous area. Remember, your safety comes first. 
If I tell you to retreat, do it sooner than yesterday. 
Ok, move out.."

The gang circled the truck widely, avoiding the deadly
cold shiny spill stain spreading from under the dripping misting
valve of the shattered semi and moved onto a narrow strip 
of dry concrete that Batallion 14 and the other crews were 
utilizing near the trapped woman's sportscar. 

Cap lifted his handy talkie to his mouth. He now had a better
idea of what they were dealing with. "Foam Truck 127. Move in.
The only leaking areas I see are immediately beneath the
semi.. Lay a full covering spread. Confirmed pressurized
anhydrous ammonia leak. The tank's got the proper labels all
over it."

Gage watched Roy sprint over to the other car, crumpled
and on the side of the road.

"Chief?" Johnny yelled through his mask. "How's she doing?"
he said to the older white helmeted man directing the water
curtain misting team holding fast between the woman and
the semi. He could hear the dark skinned woman moaning
from where she sat pinned in her seat.

"She was talking a while ago, but she's starting to
have some trouble breathing. Just get her out before
you treat anything beyond the basics. This wind may 
shift on us with that thunderstorm approaching." 
the Battalion chief replied. "Careful in there.. And do
not use any O2 at all. The moisture from it will only
burn your victim's lungs and her eyes if she takes in any 
concentrated ammonia gas to her face using it while still
being this close to the leak. Wait until you're evacuated."  

Johnny saw a pair of legs lying under the semi where
the truck driver had fallen after escaping his cab and he
started forward.. The chief grabbed his arm,
shaking his head. "He's dead.. we found his face
frozen solid to the ground. Looks like a direct
stream hit him when he tried to shut off the valve
to protect the woman."

Johnny swallowed dryly and he nodded,
firmly making himself not looking at the man's upper
torso after hearing that.

Roy and Johnny gingerly made their way over to her, wincing
as hose mist dampened their coats and hissed as minute
traces of ammonia gas sizzled on the rubber they contained.
Their breathing sounded hollow behind their masks, whistling
in their ears. Terror made them begin to sweat immediately.

Johnny shouted to the woman putting own his best
calming smile and soothing voice.. "Hey, how are ya doing?
Just relax, we're gonna get you outta here.." He said,
moving a quickly ungloved hand to her carotid for an
assessment. "You hurt anywhere besides your legs?" he 
asked. "Anything in your neck or back?"

The dashboard hid most of them from him below
her knees, but he saw no visible blood anywhere on
her pants legs.

"No, I'm fine..agh. Get me out of here.. Can't...can't..
b- breathe." and she gasped and her eyes rolled into
her head.

"Cap!! Step up that misting! The fumes are doubling 
back!!" Gage shouted, holding the woman's throat
and chin tipped up as far as he could. He could feel
her chest heave as she began to choke a bit. Gage
lifted her larynx up with his fingers and her stridor
eased off. "Hey.. You're fine.. Just keep breathing.
Nice and slow and very shallowly. Now we're gonna get
you out of here real fast. Just relax... You hear
me?" he shouted, muffled through his mask.

The woman was beyond talking, but her 
eyes never left Johnny's and her hands tightly
gripped his wrist where he was managing her 
airway for her. Her struggling eased off as
blissful clear air returned around them from
the displacing water fan's effect.

The fireteam near them added another hose to
the water curtain swiftly, and found the best
angle to utilize the clearing winds until they
pushed the wispy edges of the gas cloud away 
from the paramedics and their victim.

Chet and Marco sprinted up with a K-12 and jaws
and Roy was right behind them with news about
the other car. "The other driver's ok. Just bumps
and bruises. The CHP got him out just fine, he's 
waiting for us. Just has a simple fracture of the
right ulna. What do you got here?"

"Dyspnea. Moderate laryngeal spasming. And her legs 
are pinned. She says they don't hurt at all. I didn't
see any bleeding. Her C-Spine's clear. Can you tell 
anything down there? I haven't checked her out 
very well yet because of this.." he said angling his 
head to mean the lifting airway hold he was 
maintaining on her with both hands over her throat 
at the angle of her jaw.

Roy said, "Hang on." And he moved to the other
side of the car, crawling in as well as he could
over the woman's lap to check. "Just a panel
of the dashboard over her left knee. The jaws
should be able to handle that well enough..
Nothing seems to be broken.." he said, moving
careful hands over her lower limbs.
He straightened up, "Kelly there's a good bar
right down there to put the chain. String it
up would ya?" he said calmly. 

"Right.." Chet said. Then his eyes fell on the woman's
name tag, still on her shoulder. "Daphne, now we're
gonna pull this car off your legs, won't hurt at all
but it's gonna be real loud for a while. Just some
sounds of twisting, popping metal all right?"

"O-Ok.. ugh.." her voice rasped hoarsely.
Johnny hastily readjusted her head's placement 
when her eyes suddenly closed.

"Hey hey, now Daphne.. Stay with us.." said
Johnny.  His forearm never left her diaphragm 
nor lifted away from the breaths he could feel 
moving there. "She needs O2. Fast. Daphne,
don't...black out. We need you to- ah, h*ll..."
and he shifted position, taking the full dead 
weight of her head into his shoulder as
Daphne lapsed into limp unconsciousness.

There was a loud thudding of hollow liquid and metal 
from above and they all hunched down, anticipating
trouble..

All the firemen looked up to the nurse tank truck's 
roof when a man from Hazmat suddenly appeared above
the leaking valve in a full chemical suit to deal with
the source of the spreading cloud.  They heard his
satisfied grunt when all it took was a flip of the
tank's sealing cap and a twist of its pressurized 
valve to stop all the bad fumes.

Everyone sighed in relief. But the Batallion chief said,
"We're not out of the woods yet. That cloud will hang
around for hours before it dissipates. Only water
will carry it into the soil where it will be absorbed.
Stay away from it.. And we'd better hope it doesn't
start to rain. That will flatten the cloud like a pancake
and we'll all be enveloped before we even have a
chance to run. Get her free and move her out 
to the half mile perimeter at the minimum.."

"Yes sir.." Roy replied.

The Jaws and K-12 came to life under the assisting
Truck 127 firemen's gloves, working to free Daphne.

The sportscar was foreign made but soon, brute
mechanical strength made the front end uncrumple 
and fall away.

Kelly piped up from the front tire spot. "We got it! We
got it. Gage, DeSoto, you can pull her out anytime, 
but hang on just a sec, and let me get a wooden longboard 
for her. It won't melt down in the ammonia if it gets wet 
like a metal stokes would." And the stocky masked and 
helmeted fireman ran for the station's engine.

"Bring a C collar too! And a short oral airway! 
I wanna get one in before she swells up any more."
John shouted after him.

Three minutes later, Daphne was breathing secured,
and almost free when a new smell reached those on 
the outskirts of the evacuated area.
Rain.. on hot concrete.

"Rain!! Everybody out of there! Now!!!" Cap shouted
into his HT. "Move it! Move it!! That cloud's gonna
bloom big time..."

All the firemen around the car dropped their hoses
and grabbed Daphne's board gracelessly.
And Roy, John and they, ran with her, top speed, 
away from the semi truck.. leaving behind all else.

The cloud of anhydrous NH3 above them writhed
ominously, expanding with the gift of water,
and then hideously, it began to settle, on the way
to smothering those running on the ground beneath it.

Station 51's vehicles were nearest to the semi. 

"Move move!! Everybody on.. We're getting outta 
here!" Stoker ordered.. 

The firemen hefted up Daphne's long board onto the back
of the engine and clung to the side rails as Stoker
hastily fired up the engine and rapidly backed away 
down the freeway in a race to avoid the 
spreading cloud of gas. Roy and Johnny barely
managed to get the squad, festooned with un-chem suited
hazmat men hanging on to whatever they could, out of 
there when a wall of caustic puffing vapor occupied the place 
where they had just been..  

Roy frantically wove in between cars, driving back
wards as fast as he could, until he was convinced he
was outdistancing the rain spiked gas plume's widening
fringe.

In Roy's mind, he was intermittently terrified and 
amused when Stoker maneuvered the LaFrance 
with all the lurching grace of a drunk rhino, in reverse, 
along their same torturous route in between the maze 
of stopped abandoned autos on the highway. 

Mike almost didn't see a Harley, and he threw the steering
wheel full left to avoid it.

Chet, his grip insecure, fell off the side from the landing
when momentum flung him wide.

He impacted the road violently, and rolled with
his heavy tank bottle still on his back, in front of the 
squad. Roy slammed on his brakes when he saw 
a canvas backed body lurching in his rear mirrors. 
"ohmyg*d" Gage said, and both Johnny 
and Roy's eyes slid back the way they had come
to the rolled tanker to see a huge angry semi transluscent
wall of ammonia boiling down upon them. 

Then they both glanced back at the stunned Chet, who
was just trying for his feet. Johnny said, "Move Roy,
move.. We'll pick him up as we pass him by.."

Roy didn't speak, he acted. And the squad began to
pick up speed once more in reverse.

"Get up ! Get up, Chet! Grab onto me!!" Gage shouted,
throwing an arm through his open passenger window for
Chet to snag onto. "It's almost on us!"

Terror made Kelly get up immediately and he started 
sprinting for Johnny's hand and the squad's landing 
board like a hobo trying to catch a caboose. 

Along the way, Kelly shed his breathing apparatus in pieces,
clearly running for his life. The bottle fell away finally and Chet
stumbled only once before his running finally gained him
the ground he needed, he caught up with Roy's 
continuing high speed reversing.

An errant gust of wind caught Chet full in the 
face and it came with poisonous teeth and
rain.

Kelly's hands flew to his eyes and he screamed, 
just as Johnny grabbed his arms and hauled him 
partially into the squad, belly down. 


--------------

Others motorists in the safe area saw the engine 
and squad escaping the spreading cloud only by 
slim meters as yet unaware of what was happening 
in the cab.

They began to cheer when the two reversing
red vehicles regained their lead on it, and 
began to pull away.

Those cheers turned to shouts of horror when
they saw Chet's legs and lower half
dangling precariously out the window of
the high speed backward traveling rescue squad.

------------------------------------

Photo :  A nurse tank semi truck with
             an anhydrous ammonia topper.

Photo:   Johnny with a choking woman 
             trapped in a car.

Photo : A hazmat team member sealing
            off a top tank ammonia leak in
            a full chem suit.

Photo : Chet Kelly being supported by Cap and Johnny.

******************************* 
Date: Thu, 28 Nov 2002 00:49:07 -0800 (PST) 
From: "Sam Iam" <lafddispatcher@yahoo.com>  
Subject:  Across the Finish Line.. 
 

Gage's arms were about ready to drop off
from Chet's dead weight in the window.
"Chet! Chet! Did you get any of that in your
eyes?" he said, gasping, straining to hang onto
Kelly's belt through his faceplate.

"Yeah. *cough* Owww.....hurry. Need 
a hose.. uuhhhGGGg. ahh sh*t!"Johnny could see 
Chet's eyes suddenly and involuntarily screw shut.

John hauled Chet over onto his back where he was 
on his lap, ignoring the rest of Kelly still half 
hanging out the squad's window as Roy continued 
to steer the squad backwards, and he forced 
Chet's eyes open between firm trembling fingers.

Gage's other hand found the two gallon jug
of water always kept under the dash by
his feet for brush fires and he sloshed it
liberally into Kelly's face, "Let's get this wash in.
Come on!.. Come on.. Don't fight me.
Open your eyes.. Chet stay still.. ."

"I'm gonna fall! I'm slipping! AhHH! My eyes!"

"You're not gonna fall out of the squad."
Johnny threw a leg over Chet's waist to
keep him from sliding back out the window.
"I got you.." and he gave a strong heave
to get more of Chet into the cab. "Chet, 
hold still. I gotta wash your face and those
eyes out good or you'll burn real bad."

Roy's hands were struck from the steering wheel
by Chet's pitching head, deep in his pain, but he 
quickly recovered control. Somehow, the men 
clinging on the outside of the squad were pure 
barnacle, and no one fell off.

"Chet, it's ok.. We're almost clear.." Roy shouted.
"Let Johnny get to your eyes! We gotta get
that stuff outta them."

"Aghh.. I'm on fire! It's so cold! Ahh..HHh." 
Already Chet's voice was raspy and deep from
exposure to the gas.

Johnny grunted, pouring more water even
faster into Chet's eyes, forcefully.

It seemed like years but finally Roy said.
"Ok, we made it. We're there.." his voice
cracked. Roy could see the gang from 
the engine already on the far side of the 
police accident barricade, watching them intently.

DeSoto hit his air horn, letting them know Chet was
in trouble beyond just his fall off the engine and
how he was riding half out of the squad.

Half of them came at a run, while another company
stayed behind to carry Daphne from 51's Ward's 
hose bed, back down to the ground. 

Gage was still irrigating Chet's eyes in his lap
desperately, by the time Cap and Marco got to 
him and hauled Chet bodily out of the squad's 
windowframe. "Cap, gas caught him in the face,
real bad." he said. "How are you doing Chet?"
John said rocketting out of the squad and slamming
the door shut. He ran to the gear compartment doors
and whipped them open, grabbing the 02 apparatus
and a 2 liter burn saline bag. 

Kelly felt Cap keep him from reaching up
to his face with his hands and he opened his
eyes. "Better.. *cough*.."

"Good now just let Cap keep washing your eyes
out.." Johnny said, handing the solution IV pack 
over to Hank. "Let me and Roy get the rest of the
equipment out of the squad..That saline won't 
sting your eyes so much.."

"See to the girl first. I can wait.." Chet gasped, 
still fighting to see around the painful prickling in
his eyes. He felt Stoker wrap one of his arms over his
broad shoulders to support him as they moved to
the staging area near the waiting ambulances.

Gage grinned. "Let us be the judge of that. She
didn't get thrown out of a vehicle like you did
Chester B."

"Really I feel fine, guys.. Just a few lumps
and these knives plunging into my eyes.."

"Yeah?" Hank said, "Well, you're in for a complete
bath." Cap said, continuing to pour saline from a pour
spout into Kelly's eyes under his grip.  "Mike,
Lopez, grab him and let's go. Engine 18's got a 
decontam area already set up over here.." And 
Mike and Marco attempted to scoop up Chet 
into a two man carry, which Kelly resisted.

"I can walk.. I can walk.. I'm just squinting cause it
hurts. Not because I can't see." Kelly complained, 
throwing off Stoker and Lopez's help. The two grinned,
and contented themselves with walking at Chet's 
side while Cap continued to wash down Chet's
face and eyes thoroughly from the oversized IV
bag.

Cap jibbed in. "Man what a close call, eh Kelly? 
Despite what happened to you, this rain's a 
blessing in disguise. It'll soak all that ammonia 
into the ground for us, where it'll dissolve into 
the rocks . A twenty minute shower
will be enough to do the trick. We'll be able to
tow away the wreckage and open the freeway
again by nightfall." he grinned.

"Lucky us.. Rain on just the day we need it.."
Chet commented, trying to be brave, he even
ran fingers through his messy curls as he
went with Cap and the others for decontamination.

Roy and John were already kneeling by Daphne's
longboard reassessing her, when Kelly suddenly
sagged in his coworker's grips. 
 
"Hey..Hey Chet?!" Cap shouted. Marco and Mike
caught him, hastily tightening their grips on Chet's
underarms and jacket. "Stoker ease him down..
Careful. Careful."

Gage shot to his feet. "I was afraid of this, you guys.
He might've taken a good shot of gas in the lungs. You
heard the way his voice was going. Keep his head and
chest angled up with something! I'll be right there."

Stoker made a pillow from his coat for Kelly who was 
still partially awake. Johnny crouched with a penlight 
checking his nose and throat for burns. "Chet.. Can 
you hear me, pal?  Still breathing ok?"

He was, shallowly.

Kelly blinked under Johnny's light. But alarmingly, he 
was no longer coughing. Gage saw that he seemed dazed,
and not really focusing on all the guys bending over him.

Johnny kept a hand on Kelly's chest and he looked up.
"Cap, we still gotta keep irrigating those eyes and the 
rest of him despite this. We'll worry about warming him 
afterwards once he's decontam'd. Right now, he needs
to get this ammonia off his skin, and a lot of O2 into his
system."

"That covers him. But I gotta ask. Get any on yourself 
helping him, Gage?" Hank asked Johnny.

"No.."

Roy sighed and said, "I did. My arm's tingling. His 
head hit me when Johnny dragged him into the squad.
He must have had some in his hair for a bit before it
evaporated."

Cap stood, rapidly motioning for a hose team to string
him a brush line for Kelly's wash right where he was. 
"Washdown, gotcha Gage." he said pointing down at Chet.
"DeSoto, you're headed for the decontam tent, right 
now." Hank ordered. "For yours."

"But Cap.." Roy started up.

"No complaints.. Gage can handle treating the woman
and Chet just fine with Squad 18's medics 
until you're done."

"Roy, just go. Kelly's breathing ok for the moment."
Johnny told him. He glared until Roy disappeared 
into the canvas emergency tent.

Then Gage bent down to listen to Chet's
pulmonary status with a stethoscope as Lopez 
began to cut away Kelly's clothes for his
hose soaking wash.
"Chet.."Johnny called out leaning down over
the shocky fireman's pale face. "Still here? We're gonna 
haveta wash ya down now. And it's gonna be cold. 
Not too fun. Also, I need to shift you onto your 
side to irrigate those eyes some more
to be sure we got it all out. We'll get you on 
some dry O2, so it won't burn your chest 
so much and breathing will come easier. Just 
relax, I'm gonna check you out closer to make 
sure your little tumble didn't crack anything 
else besides your backside, ok?" he 
said, smiling, trying to raise Chet's spirits.

But Kelly remained very quiet, his face slack, where he
he lay on the ground. He tried to moan but no sound
came out of his swelling throat, and he just wheezed 
instead in a poor attempt to clear his throat.

Johnny looked up as Station Eighteen's paramedics joined
them. "Mendelson. Get him on straight 100% O2 by demand
valve, non humidified. Force it if he obstructs.  Peters, you got his
vitals set here?  Afterwards continue that eye wash.
I'm going to go get a new set on the woman and phone
us in.."

Johnny knelt by Daphne, relieving the fireman watching
her O2 mask intake, and got a BP on her. She was 
cool to the touch following her hose washing, even under
her thick blankets on the long board, and was
still out. Johnny was pleased to find her breathing 
well through her oral airway. Gage looked up a minute 
later with just the vitals information, for Rampart.

Nearby, Cap and Stoker had already begun streaming 
a hand hose's scrubbing spray over Kelly's shivering 
bare skin, while Mendelson kept the demand valve 
in place over Kelly's nose and mouth so the lung
burned, stricken, fireman could breathe in its 
soothing oxygen flow. Peter's was working on
his eyes, irrigating them. Gage noticed Chet no
longer resisted that. ::He's going out. Might be
better for him that way in the long run. A lower
BP will mean less pulmonary swelling. I hope.::


"Fifteen minutes, Cap!" Johnny shouted towards them. 
"Keep it up until then. He's sure to go hypothermic but
we'll worry about that once we're sure all the 
ammonia's off of him."

"You got it pal.." Cap replied, deftly spraying
Chet's contaminated clothing away from
him and the medics working on him. Then he
returned to the washdown, getting Chet's hair
thoroughly scoured as well. Mendelson
and Peters ignored the fact they were getting 
partially wet, their concentration on Kelly's care 
unwavering.

Gage opened the biocom quickly, and snapped
the aerial into place. He brought the phone's receiver
to his face. "Rampart, this is Squad 51. How
do you read?"

---------------------

Joe Early had just been by Dixie's desk,
working on a chart when he noticed the
red rescue light flashing in the receiving alcove.
He tapped her shoulder and the two of them
entered the tiny glassed off room.

Joe thumbed the intercom. "Unit calling in
please repeat.. " and he turned on the tape
recorder near the radio speaker.

##Rampart, this is Squad 5-1.#

"Go ahead 51. I read you loud and clear.." Joe
said.

"Rampart, we've two victims of anhydrous ammonia
gas, secondarily compounded by possible blunt trauma.
Victim One, unconscious, a woman aged approximately 
27-28 years of age. Victim of an automobile versus 
semi trailer truck. No apparent gross injuries other than
ammonia inhalation. I  haven't yet had time to give 
her a thorough secondary assessment. Vitals, however 
on her, are stable. Victim Two, a Code I. Fell from a 
moving firetruck while we were trying to get away from
the gas cloud. Expressed marked walking 
wounded syndrome, now semi comatose with 
growing moderate respiratory distress. He is on a 
hundred percent dry O2. Rampart, her hose irrigation
is complete. His nearly so." 

Joe rubbed his nose while hearing Johnny's report.
Then he toggled the reply switch. "51. Give me
a vitals set on Victim Two."

Johnny caught a sailing notepad, full of 
information, from Peters. "10-4, Rampart. 
Victim Two. Pulse 120. BP  92 / 60, 
Respirations, 24 and wheezy, breathing on his 
own. Breath sounds show moderate upper 
tracheal wheezing on the left, clear on the 
right." Johnny's face
fell when he read Peter's other medical finding. 
"Also,....showing marked guarding of his upper left 
quadrant abdomen with referring pain up into
both shoulders. C-spine and all neuro
responses intact."

"51, Apply mast trousers and inflate only the 
compartments over the lower extremities.
Any rapid boost in his blood pressure may
exacerbate his breathing and compromise his
lung function due to those probable pulmonary burns.. 
Inflate the suit's chambers until his BP is on the
low side of normal only. Then start two large bore 
IV's, 51. Both of D5W, wide open. We'll treat for
shock now and treat any resulting pulmonary 
edema later. Right now, it's more important
to keep that internal injury at bay. It may be
a ruptured spleen. 51, any indication of 
head trauma?"

"Negative, Rampart." Johnny replied.

"Good." Joe said. "If he recovers consciousness
fully, pain from his seared lungs, may keep him 
from being able to breathe on his own. Have
2 mg MS IV Push standing ready should he need it.
The more he moves air on his own, the better off
he'll be in the long run. If positive pressure is needed,
use only enough each vent for half inflation of 
the lungs. I don't want to collapse them from 
leakage from those aveolial burns."

Gage sighed in concentration and repeated back
his orders. "10-4, ah. 2 milligrams MS IV push 
as needed. Two IV D5Ws wide open and mast trouser 
application to low normal BP. Light vents on 
the demand valve on any respiratory arrest."

Joe said. "Also, guard against shock and begin 
rewarming measures once his irrigation is
complete." 

"10-4,  Treat for shock and hypothermia 
following the washdown."

Joe said, "Give me Victim number One's vitals."

Johnny said. "Victim One. Earlier laryngeal spasming.
Independently resolved on its own, following a 
return to clear air. Oral airway is in place. She's on 
fifteen liters of 02, dry. BP 130/102, Respirations 
shallow and deep alternating, at 20. Pulse 100. 
Pupils equal and reactive. No response to verbal. 
Slight to pain on the consciousness level." 

"10-4, 51. On Victim One, Keep monitoring for any 
deterioration in her respiratory status. Stridor, wheezing,
ineffective lung draws, and then treat the symptoms
when they arrive with 2 mg 1:10,000  epinephrine 
into an IV, 51, of normal saline, TKO. 

On both victims, keep them warm at as near 
normal a body temperature as possible. Make up a burn
chart as needed, showing any areas of ammonia exposure,
it usually takes a few hours after exposure for an ammonia
freezing to show on the skin. Include suspected pulmonary
involvement and any burns of mucosal membranes, such
as in the nose, surrounding the eyes, and involving
the throat. Do not cover any burns found. Keep them
open, 51."

"10-4, Rampart. Burn charting percentages, and
open air for burn protocol." Gage replied. "Rampart
ambulance is on scene."

"Ok, 51. Notify me of any negative change in 
their vitals signs and transport as soon as possible."

"10- 4, Rampart."

Johnny, Mendelson and Peters had just finished
starting the three IV's when Roy rushed back
over to Johnny's side, his hair wet, with dry night
turnout trousers on and a clean T-shirt someone had
gotten for him from the engine. "How are they?" 
he asked.

Gage handed his partner his notes from the biocom
call and said. "Chet may have a ruptured spleen
on top of his other problems." he said unhappily.
"I probably didn't help him hauling him by the belt
like I did. Doc's got him marked for light vents 
if he quits breathing on us."

"Don't feel bad, jarring an internal injury was better
than us just leaving him behind to be melted to slag by a 
corrosive cloud, don't you think?"

"I guess. We broke quite a few patient extrication rules
today. On both of them."

"We had to." Roy admitted.
 
They both turned at Cap's shout. "Gage, we're 
through. So's Peters." he said, tossing a head at Chet.
 
Stoker and Hank began to wash the runoff from 
Chet off the roadway and onto the grassy margins.

Roy and Marco helped Johnny bundle the chilled Chet 
rapidly into the mast suit and then very warmly 
inside a crush of wool run blankets from head to toe. 
Mendelson said. "He's still holding fine. Pulling his 
air adequately here." he said, of the demand 
valve he was still using on Kelly. "Haven't needed 
to trigger even once yet."

"Good, if you do, go 50% only, all right." Gage told
him.

"You got it."

Roy leaned down to Chet's ear. "Chet.. Can you
hear me? "

Chet's eyes stayed closed for they were swelling
from all the water that had streamed over them 
from Peters irrigations but his thick eyebrows rose 
slightly at the sound of his name.

Roy smiled. "We're almost on the way to Rampart
where they'll take really good care of that belly pain. 
Just keep breathing regular on the 02 like you are.
If you have trouble, we've been authorized MS if 
the pain gets too great, just let us know." 

Chet lifted his eyebrows once more before he
gave into his involuntary shivering from being water
chilled under the hose. "hhhhhmmphhh." he said
incoherently.

That worried Johnny. 

But then a touch of Chet cussedness presented
itself a few minutes later. Kelly all but broke 
Roy's hand, hanging on to it, for reassurance.

---------------------


John and Mendelson rode with Chet and 
Daphne in the ambulance while Roy drove 
behind the Mayfield. Johnny's hands were
full keeping them both on their flowing 
oxygen, double handed, while Mendelson
looked them over inch by inch for burns
for the charts. Chet had several. The woman,
none.

Dr. Early met them at the entrance doors.

Dixie was there, too. 

She pointed and said......

--------------------------------------

Photo : Chet down on the ground, hurt.
             Close up.

Photo:  Mike Stoker and Captain Stanley with
            a hand held hose in glove.

Photo:  Johnny in an ambulance with two victims.
            Holding two oxygen masks on both.

******************************
From : "Roxy Dee" <laterrapincabesa@hotmail.com>  
Subject : Patch Job~~  
Date : Tue, 03 Dec 2002 15:25:14 +0000 

....."Treatment Three for the woman. Let's put
your coworker in Two, Johnny. Mendelson,
stay with her long enough to give Dr. Morton 
your report, all right? Joe Early's taking your
friend here."

Gage nodded gratefully to Dix for bending the
rules and allowing him to remain by Chet's side.

Roy took full advantage of the favor, too,
slipping inside the treatment room doors with his
walkie talkie on the heels of orderlies arriving with
an xray machine. Another set of them came from
nowhere with a standby bird respirator.
::That Dr. Early's on the ball. Let's hope Chet doesn't
need it.::

Dixie drew the line on the rest of the gang, still in
heavy overcoats smelling faintly of ammonia stench, 
keeping them lined up along the wall outside the 
treatment room. Gage said, "Cap, I'm all eyes. You'll
know faster than Brackett will about what's going on 
with Kelly." Johnny said, lifting his HT. "You called the
squad and engine out of service for a bit?"

Cap's grin and smiles from the rest of them lifted 
Johnny's own anxiety a whole heap,  "H*ll yeah. 
Using the close call to get ourselves all checked 
out by the docs. We might be burned without 
even knowing it, don't you know." he winked. 
"Tell Kelly his family already knows and is 
on the way if he wakes up."

"I will.." Gage said.

The Treatment room doors closed in on Cap's
face, making him wish for the dozenth time that
its wooden surface had a window to see through.
He gave the red "do not enter" sign a light smack
in frustration.

---- ---- ---- ---- ---- ---- ---- ---- 

Dr. Early had a full respiratory therapy team there
to assess Kelly's current pulmonary status.
"Johnny, did Chet need the MS in route?" he said,
taking his otoscope and using it to look for
burns inside Chet's nose and mouth. He shifted
to his penlight to examine the membranes in
Chet's eyes.

"Yeah. About five minutes ago, just before
we pulled up here. Look doc, he's really out now.
His pressure's barely holding low normal
with that suit on." Gage said, helping the nurses 
and techs shift Chet from the portable EKG 
to the hospital one and to trade his D tanked O2, 
for the wall port source. "I decided not to monkey 
with an oral airway with that wheezing going 
on."

"Ok, Johnny, we'll take it from here." Joe said.
Then Dr. Early noticed the usually talkative Gage
growing as quiet as Roy usually was, and then 
he saw the matching looks of worry blooming 
suddenly on their faces at the idea of being 
driven out of the room. He reconsidered, saying.
"Roy, why don't you check his feet for pedal 
pulses so we can rule out descending aorta 
involvement..And Johnny, tell me exactly, what 
burns you found on him and where.."
Then he turned to Dix, while Carol took a set 
of vitals on Chet. "Dixie, page Dr. Brackett for
me would you? He's with his father. And 
call for a surgical team. We're going to have to do
an exploratory on Kelly's abdomen to see what's
going on. Carol, get a warming blanket will you?
Seems his core temp's still a little low."

---- ---- ---- ---- ---- ---- ---- ---- ---- ----

Twenty five long minutes later, Johnny and Roy
left the treatment room reluctantly, leaving 
the pre-op team scurrying to prepare Chet
for his emergency surgery. 

Cap and the gang immediately surrounded them.
Every one of them had their helmets off and
respectfully in their gloves. "How is he?" Hank
asked. "Did we get that wash in Kelly's eyes in
time?"

Johnny said. "His pupillary responses are still
reactive, Cap. That's a good sign doc says.
That means his eyes aren't burned that badly."

Roy added. "Chet's going to be wheeled into
surgery any minute now. Dr. Early seems to
think his spleen isn't that badly torn. I think
his abdominal guarding was going away."

"Can we see him?" Marco asked.

Right then, Dixie McCall stepped through the 
doors with a tray full of blood samples for the 
lab and handed it off to a passing nurse. "Take 
these to the lab, stat." she said. 

She sealed the door after herself before the 
gang could peek through. "Now boys, you 
know we're doing everything we can for your 
friend. Just give him and the doctors some 
space so they can do their work, all right? 
Chet's vitals are stabilized well enough for his 
surgery now so relax.."

Sighs of relief erupted from all the men towering
above her diminutive stature. Then she pegged 
them all with an appraising stare. "All right, who 
needs to be seen about ammonia exposure..?"

Roy raised his hand. "I do. I took some on the arm."

"This way.." Dix said to him. She smiled when the
whole station crew followed, crowded behind Roy 
into treatment four, on the hope of wringing more 
reassurance out of her about Chet. She patted the bed,
"Hop up, Roy. Kel's here and he'll take a look at
you while Chet's being readied for surgery."

"Dr. Brackett's here?" Roy said, "I thought he had 
the night off? You know, since...." he broke off, he 
even paused in pulling off his T- shirt for his coming 
exam when he realized he might be on confidential 
ground.

"Since Kel acted like a belligerent school kid and drove
his fist through a deck door window? Pretty amazing,
I know. But what son isn't prone to his father pushing
some sensitive buttons, hmm?" she quipped.

"Is Dr. Brackett all right?" Johnny asked, concerned
for the senior physician. "We were pretty shocked
when Mendelson told us what happened on the way
in with Chet and the woman."

"He's sore, with thirty two stitches, but at least, he's
got a reason to smile tonight.
Brent Brackett and Kel have decided to mend
some fences even after THIS long.. " she said with
intense secrecy. "Kel told me the news only an hour 
ago from the restaurant." she whispered. Then 
aloud. "Quit cowering, all. You fellas are all family so, 
of course, I'll tell you everything about this whole 
silly complex of Kel's. And I'll tell you more
too. Just as soon as I understand enough of it to voice
into legible words..I'm a woman, remember, and it 
usually takes me a while to fathom out father/son 
feuds. Especially when the two involved are good 
friends of mine." she grunted, partially laughing, while 
taking a BP on Roy. She finished and wrote it down.
"Any dizziness, Roy? Odd things going on with your 
eyes?"

"No. I'm fine. The hosing wash I took in the decontam
tent took care of all that."

Dix slid over a blood draw tray and tied on a tourniquet
to obtain samples from him. "Yeah? Well, Dr. Brackett
is still giving you his own once over just to be on the safe
side. I'm just the front line of defenses.."

"But..."

"Don't worry. Kel'll tear right out of here to scrub
up the second Chet's fully prepped and anesthetized."

They piped down when Kel came through the treatment
doors not alone, but accompanied by Brent Brackett,
the tyrannical father figure they had heard so much about
through Mendelson in the hall.

Dix cast significant eyes at Johnny and Roy and the rest
of the gang in the room and angled her head to show
her statement about their making amends was really
quite true. She started heading for the door.

Kel called out after her. "Say Dix, did you get Roy's 
blood samples for the l--?"  he broke off when Dix
held up the three vials already clasped in her long
fingernails without turning around. "oh... ok."

Dixie winked at the gang on her way out.

Dr. Brackett noticed the unusual presence of Roy's
coworkers in the room, trying to blend in with 
the glass medicine cabinets. "Roy, you've quite an 
entourage of fans here. Didn't know you were so 
popular. Thought Gage here was the star in your 
outfit."

"They're worried about Chet, doc." DeSoto said
without smiling.

"Nothing to worry about." Brent Brackett spoke
up instantly.

Dr. Brackett stiffened at his father's intrusion into
his patient / doctor territory, but the firemen all saw 
Kel relax a bit when Kel realized Brent was actually
bringing his own skills to bear accordingly as
was his right as senior attending house psychologist.

"We just left him and his chest Xray, young man.
Looking good. Both of them." Brent told Roy and
the rest of the firemen in the room, hanging on
to his white coat's lapels.

Johnny's eye rose skeptically, making Kel smirk
in mild amusement. "What Dr. Brackett is saying, is true. 
Chet's chest Xray is showing little edema and a huge 
reduction in swelling. Looks like the effect of the lungful 
of ammonia he took in was only temporary, made that
way, by your prompt fast action with administering 
unmoistened O2. And even his abdominal plates look 
good. I saw only minor shadowing over his spleen. 
The mast trousers did their job. All bleeding's under 
control. The surgery I'm doing on him should just be 
a patch job, gentlemen.."

"That's a relief.." Mike Stoker sighed. "It wasn't fun
seeing Chet fly off my engine like he did."

"Yeah, Chet's no superman.." Gage chuckled.

They hushed down when Kel Brackett finished
checking Roy out. DeSoto showed him the place
where the ammonia had soaked into his arm.
Only a little reddening was showing up under the
light. "Mild first degree freeze burn. I don't think
any had time to get into your blood stream, Roy.
Your lab tests will reveal that for sure in a few 
minutes. Get dressed. We're through. Just be 
sure to call me on return of symptoms, all right?"

"You got it, doc.." he said.

Kel hurried out the door to head for surgery.

Brent was left in the room with the gang 
and he handed Roy his T- shirt back. "Is he
a good man to work with, Kel Brackett? 
Afraid to admit, that I've really just started 
watching him work, only tonight."

Roy answered without hesitation, but subconsciously
straightening from where he sat on the treatment
gurney. "One of the best, sir. He singlehandedly 
saved the Paramedic Program from being legislated 
out of operation during its earliest days and he 
trained not only me, personally, but my partner
Johnny here, as well, to function as efficient 
intermediary caregivers in just about any prehospital 
setting. To date, in only six years, Dr. Brackett 
created twenty paramedic teams  embedded 
in just as many firehouses across L. A. 
County. Entirely due to his own hard work and 
perserverence."

Brent laughed openly and clasped Roy's
hand warmly. "My g*d. Do we need an
introduction my boy! Seems Dixie's really
painted me out to be the worst ogre of a two
ogre pair now hasn't she?
You're practically foaming at the mouth singing
praises about my boy, son. Relax....True, I'm just
like Kel in temperment,  but I'm mellower by miles.. 
A trait of all this gray hair, I suppose. Listen..I really 
appreciate your devotion to my son's work.. 
Sounds very genuine if I do say so myself.
Mr...mr..."

"DeSoto.." Roy said, returning the handshake.

Johnny's nervous smile fell off into a sideways
grin of relief.

"DeSoto. A solid French name. And the rest of you?"

A round of introductions came after that from Cap
right on down to Stoker.

-------------------------------------------------

They ended up in the coffee lounge, away from public
view, so the firefighting gear wouldn't alarm hospital
visitors.  Brent Brackett learned a whole lot about
his son from Dixie and the Station 51 crew over
the next hour while they waited for word about
Chet's surgery results.

Brent finally couldn't stand their fretting. He rose,
abandoning his coffee mug. "All right. I've monopolized
your good graces enough folks, digging for dirt or gold
concerning my very grown son. Tell you what.. 
I've got a lot of clout around here as house psych. 
Think I'll peek in on how Kel's handling your man, 
captain." he said.

Cap looked startled. "You don't have to do
that. We know Chet's probably fine, doctor. Just
a patch surgery job, Kel said."


"Be that as it may. I'll be killing two birds with one
stone by making the round. I'll get your answer
for you that much sooner and I'll be able to see
my son in action at the same time. Fair trade off."

"Just stay in the observation room.." Dix chided.

"Where would the fun be in that, Miss McCall? I want
to see how my son works under pressure.."

Dix scowled, but it was tempered with amusement.
"Family peer pressure's dirty pool, doctor, and you
know it.."

"Kel can handle it. After all, he's handled this whole
paramedic thing and all these men behind it for six years? 
How's one more doctor hanging over his shoulder 
gonna matter?"

"Plenty..you'll both be wearing the same fake smile." 
Dix said without a shred of humility, as Brent made 
his goodbyes to the stationhouse gang and accepted 
their profuse thanks for doing what he was about to do.

Captain Stanley leaned back, lacing his fingers behind
his head and wondered when the sparks were 
going to ignite into a big fire between the Brackett
docs once again. He hope Brent's little appearance
in Kel's operating ward wouldn't prove to be a new 
catalyst for another fiery father son feud.

Dixie didn't appear overtly alarmed. She simply
reached for the nearly empty coffee pot on the table
contentedly and poured herself a cup.

That cup went right into Joe Early's hands when the
silver haired doctor showed up into the nurses lounge.

Gage said, "How's he doing?" Johnny asked Joe
immediately before the man had taken even one
sip.

"Thanks Dix. I need the pick me up. Fine Johnny.. 
His vitals are still stable. Kel's almost through with
the exploratory. We had no problems intubating
Chet after he was put under, if that's what you 
want to know. His air passages were very clear
Johnny."

Gage nodded, sorry that he was so transparent.
"Thanks doc. His earlier wheezing was kinda scary."

"That's the funny thing about anhydrous ammonia.
It either really really does a number on you, or
it let's you off lightly after a really good scare. In Chet's
case, he got the all bluff end of the spectrum. There's
no retinal damage or even corneal abrasions. No 
chance of that blinding you guys were all fearing during
the rescue.."

Mike Stoker said. "Good. Last thing we need is Chet
Kelly banging around the station with a sight cane
while he cooks fifteen alarm chow for us every night."

The whole gang laughed at the image.

Joe even chortled.

Roy asked about their other victims from the accident.
"How about the woman we brought in, Daphne? She
doing ok?"

"Same story as Chet, minus the internal injuries.
She'll stay the night and'll be discharged in the morning
if her lungs stay clear. Nice fast action Johnny on
ending that laryngeal spasm then." Dr. Early said.

"I didn't do anything. The hose team got a good
pocket of air around us and she resolved on her own."

"Lucky. She could have been that close to triggering 
a tracheal collapse reflex when her larynx cramped 
like that." Joe said, holding out miniscule fingers in the 
air.

"I know.. you could have knocked me over with
a stick when she started breathing again after I
got a good lifting grip on her throat." Gage admitted.
"I remembered at the last second that gas inhalation
reacted the same way as a liquid water drowning
with spasming like that. I almost forgot how effective
the technique was."

"Who taught you that move?" Cap asked. "That
was pretty slick considering there wasn't much else
you could do for her, wearing your SCBA mask like
that.."

"Dr. Brackett."
"Dr. Brackett." Roy and John both replied in stereo.

Dr. Early grinned. "I take it Brent was in here a while
ago."

"How'd you know?" Dix said in surprise.

"They said their answer too fast, Dix, dead give away."

"Oh.."

Johnny asked, "Doc, can you tell us about Mr. Fajou?"

Joe rubbed his hand, not remembering their patient.

"The old man from the creepy mansion who cooked
ginger bread cookies for the kids at the studio." Roy
added.

"Oh, oh, oh, now I know who you're talking about.
He did have septicemia, a mild case and we've
gotten his asthma outbreak under control. He's resting
comfortably on antibiotics and inhalants."

"Will he be going home soon? You see, we all wanna
help him out some and do some work around the house
for him before he gets back." Mike Stoker told him.

"Boys... aren't you the sweethearts. What knights in
shining armor.." Dix cooed. "Mr. Fajou's gonna love
your surprise. I'll be sure to give you a call the moment
I find out when he'll get discharged all right?"

They all nodded.

Roy piped up. "Dix, how's the other car driver? The one I
looked at briefly before handling our cases?"

"Oh, the driver with the broken arm? Fine. Peters rode
in with him in another rig. He didn't take many fumes
at all and I heard his arm was easily set and put into a cast. 
He'll most likely be discharged in a couple of hours, after 
his cast dries."

"That's good."

A loud stomach rumble permeated the air. From
Marco.. "Lo ciento.. All that running made me hungry."

"Time for a pizza run.. My treat.." Joe said.
He got on the phone to dietary, shushing them
all into silence,  before the gang's active protests 
stopped him. "Consider it part of your followup
ammonia gas treatment.." he quipped.

"Thanks doc, we owe you one.." Cap grinned.

Cap and the others literally inhaled the four pizzas 
while Dix and Joe merely nibbled.

The pizza pans had been tossed onto the dish cart
for only about thirty seconds when the wait for 
news about Chet grew once again intolerable.

All eyes started watching the clock and the house
phone for word from Dr. Brent Brackett's
sticking his nose in where it didn't belong.

---------------------------------------------------------

Photo: Chet in a treatment room, unconscious.

Photo: Joe checking out Roy in a treatment room.

Photo : Dr. Brackett looking at your pupils with
            a penlight.

Photo : Dr. Brent Brackett looking at Chet's chest
            X-ray.

Photo : John, Joe and Dixie in a treatment room.

****************************************
From : "patti keiper" <pattik1@hotmail.com>  
Subject :[EmergencyTheaterLive] Of Mice and Men..  
Date : Thu, 12 Dec 2002 21:31:07 +0000  
 
Kel Brackett didn't even look up from his 
surgical field when he felt a presence at his 
shoulder. He knew right away that it was his 
father in the blue scrubs near him. "Doctor Brackett." 
he said simply and as neutrally as he could. 
Kel could feel his cheek twitching under his mask. 
But inwardly, he told himself once again in his
thoughts.::I did ask dad to see what I do 
for my living.:: he sighed. ::I just have to get
used to him taking advantage of the invite, hook
line and sinker.::

Brent Brackett knew how to observe
in a sterile ward. His ungloved hands were behind
his back and he stayed behind Kel at half an arm's 
length. "Before you say anything.. I...only stepped 
in here solely on behalf of the boys who work with 
this young fellow. They're milking this anhydrous 
exposure checkup requirement to the max and 
they're all still here, crowded in the nurse's 
break lounge. Joe Early had to feed them because 
they wouldn't even leave the staff paging phone 
unattended long enough to grab a tray from 
the cafeteria, fearful they'd miss hearing from 
you."

Dr. Brackett wasn't beneath trying to shock his
father. "The resection on the mediastinal aspect 
of Chet's spleen is a straight forward repair job. 
See for yourself.." and he intentionally sprayed
his running tube of sterile saline wash over the 
area, not caring that a part of its red tinged spray 
splashed up, catching his father's mask and his
scrub top liberally as it plumed upwards when the 
older man didn't anticipate stepping back at the
sound like all the others around the table did.

Brent flinched but then blinked, wondering if the
dousing had been a ploy to drive him away, but he 
was already more than determined to remain. 
He cleared his throat and said loud enough for all 
in the room to hear.
"Oops. Good thing gore has never bothered me. 
Please, show me what you've done so far, doctor. 
I'm all eyes." he said, hiding any trace of negative 
emotion from his voice. Brent surprised himself when
his own temper, didn't flare up at all. 

Nonetheless, a well informed, Dixie enlightened tech 
hastily suctioned away the water for Kel from Chet's 
abdominal cavity almost a little too fast. Kel had to 
hold Chet's spleen down with his forceps so it 
wouldn't plug her tube's port as she used it.

Kel glanced at her reflexively but the woman's 
face stayed looking down at what she was doing.
For her benefit, Kel said. "Sorry about that, I'll
slow down." Dr. Brackett half wondered if there
was anyone on the staff who didn't know about
the Brackett family friction. And he quickly began
feeling like an *ss for what he had done. 
::Dixie's thorough on the grapevine, I'll give 
her that. About as thorough as she is running triage. 
Everyone around us is walking on egg shells. 
That's gonna change..:: he vowed. ::Now.::
he said. He was glad for his mask when it hid
the rising red of embarrassment in his face.
He decided to show the entire room that Dixie's
tale about them was now completely baseless.
"Dad, look here. This is where Chet's fall impacted
against his spleen. See that mark? You can almost
make out lettering from the regulator valve he fell 
on top of. He must have been wearing a SCBA bottle 
when he fell and that metal piece on the harness
was what cut him internally."

"Hmm. I see it." Brent mumbled.
"Looks sort of like the artifacts that show up on chest
x-rays sometimes from drivers impacting
their sternums against the steering wheel column?"
Brent asked. Then he chuckled. "Saw a Chrysler 
logo chevron once on one from a patient of 
mine. That young man now hangs that 
x-ray on his wall." He sighed accepting a cotton wad
from a nurse gratefully so he could mop up his 
gory face. "He now shows it to all of his dates 
and tells them it's his secret tattoo that can even
be felt, for a kiss."

"Yeah? Well Chet won't be left with any such girl magnet.
This tissue isn't bone. It will heal cleanly in a few days, 
leaving no traces. Chet's external skin bruising will 
stay longer than this laceration."
Kel said, snipping off his last internal suture stitch.
"There," he said, "Good as new.." Kel dabbed the
spleen with gauze until Brent could see his work.

"Bowels clear? And the intestines?" Brent asked,
peering closer.

"Completely. All of Chet's internal bleeding came
from this site alone. The spleen's the body's
repository for whole blood so it's not surprising
this tiny tear hemorrhaged so much. The anti
shock trousers did a good job stopping it as
you saw on the films."

"So I did.." Brent said. "So, what should I tell
the fireboys?"

"That it was a piece of cake, doctor. Chet's no 
longer in jeopardy."

"Will do." and he nodded and winked to the nervous
tech across from them. Then he turned to his
surgeon son. "Coffee after you close?"

"Wouldn't miss it." Kel said. 
 
"Then I'll leave you all to your work.." Brent
Brackett leaned down to Chet. He saw 
the young fireman's eyes had been ointmented
and protectively taped shut and he carefully stayed
away from where the anesthesiologist was listening
to Chet's breathing through the endotrach
tube with a stethoscope. He spoke firmly into Kelly's 
ear. "Looks good son. Almost done. Wake up fast 
cause your friends are still hanging around 
to see you. My guess is that it won't be good 
for them later if your dispatcher has to order 
them back to the stationhouse. Oh, and Joe Early 
just told me they've saved some pizza for you." 
he said, patting Chet's sheet covered shoulder. 
"So hurry up son, before someone gets hungry 
again and it disappears."

Everyone around the table laughed when Chet's
stomach took that moment to start growling.
It was very audible as it and the organs around
it were still exposed to the air.

"That got through my anesthesia?" the man at
Chet's head joked. "Usually I have people's 
plumbing napping soundly during splenectomies."

"Yeah well this fireman's appetite is legendary, Dale. 
Don't feel bad. I hear Johnny complaining about his 
donut stealing prowess all the time." Kel shook his 
head ruefully, amused. "Dad, I know of a better 
way to wake him up if you're interested. 
Grab Johnny's walkie talkie. I'll have Doctor
Riley here on the respirator play him his station's
alarm tones after he's extubated." he joked.

"Aren't you the creative one.." Brent teased back,
just before the surgical bay doors closed between
them. "But I think I'll pass on that. Positive 
reinforcement works so much better than shock 
tactics.." he replied.

Brackett immediately regretted his little stunt with
splashing the sterile wash. Internally, Kel accepted Brent's
hidden admonishment. ::I deserved that. Now
why am I still acting like such a pig? This unspoken feud
between us is being addressed. What am I afraid
of?::

Inside his head, another voice of conscience spoke
up. ::Losing your mother because of it.::

-----------------------------------------------

Brent Brackett was still wet from his shower
when he dialed the nurses lounge. 

The phone rang, making the whole gang jump
in their seats as way too much coffee in their
systems made them overreact.

Then the babble in the room ceased when no one
moved to intercept the phone. Marco, Stoker, Johnny
and Roy all hushed up in tension, like frightened rabbits
when it was the red phone and not the black one
that was paging them.

Dixie MacCall answered the phone. "Nurse's lounge,
Dixie McCall speaking.."

Brent greeted her. "Miss McCall? Put Mr. Kelly's
captain on. I wanna speak with him directly. And 
before you ask. All things went well. Both my
visit and with Chester's exploratory. His spleen's
intact. Didn't need to be removed. So hop to,
woman."

Dixie hid her smile even from her eyes as she
handed over the phone. "Captain Stanley.
You're needed here."

"Oh, boy. Hope it's not McConnike for playing hooky.
He never goes through public HT channels when he's
really mad at somebody." Cap said, leaping off the
lounge couch and wiping nervous palms on
his turnout.

Dixie couldn't help herself. She said, "Relax captain.
It's not him. Remember, I'm your solid alibi here for
all of you staying at Rampart even if the chief does call.
I already have my speech planned out."
and she broke into a reasoning voice, sugar coated with
Dixie no nonsense. "I'll just say, 'Chief, It's a little busy
today, and that's why it's taking longer than usual to
examine all of your men. ' when the time comes."

"Glad somebody's prepared for that call."
Hank sighed, and rose, taking the phone from her.
"This is Fireman Stanley." with more than just
slight apprehension.

Brent grinned."Go home, captain. Chet's already
being sent to recovery. His spleen was only
holed, not grossly ruptured. It was all just minor 
surgery."

Cap excitedly spread the good news to his listeners 
out of ear shot.

Brent heard the cheers and had to take the phone
away from his ear for a moment but then he shouted
before Hank hung up again. "Captain Stanley, one thing.
Hand that to-go box full of pizza to Dixie for her to 
take to his room or Chet's gonna personally kill ya."

"Huh?"

"Subliminal suggestion, Captain. Works everytime.
I told him it would be waiting."

"Gotcha, doc. She heard ya. Thanks Dr. Brackett, 
for everything. We really appreciate it."

"That's why I'm a psychologist, son. Take care." 
and Brent hung up the phone.

-----------------------------------------------------

  Marjorie Kelly sat next to Chet's bed as she 
waited for him to awaken from his latest anesthesia
slumber. Chet's eyes were unbandaged and he 
had already blinked away the antibiotic ointment
in them as the scent of his sister's musky
perfume woke him the rest of the way to 
consciousness.

A rodent's fuzzy face, and whiskers, met his gaze 
when focus returned from the middle of
his chest.  "Ahhh!!!" he shouted in fright and immediately
winced when his surgical staples bit back in protest.
"OoooooOOOOooo, Marjorie.. Did you have to bring
Herbert here? Animals aren't allow in at Rampart.."

"Who says? No one saw me. Besides, what better way
to make you feel better than to bring you,.. your best
bud."

Chet watched Herbert crawl further up his chest to land
curious paws on his chin as he sniffed his master's
morning anesthesia breath. 
Then he made for an immediate beeline for the open 
pizza carton lying across Chet's legs. 
"Oh, no you don't. That's mine."
and Chet pinned Herbert's tail long enough to 
nestle him into a palm to caress the brown mouse's
head and kiss his ears. Then he double taked.
"Wait a minute. Why did I say that?"

Marjorie laughed. "Dixie left this here an hour ago. 
She said a doctor in surgery told you some would
be waiting for you when you awakened. Wah la.."
she said, with a flourish at the pizza half. "It's
still warm. I just reheated it up again."

Chet watched as Herbert pushed out of his hand
with a frustrated squeak until he gained his
freedom and he beelined once more for the pizza
across the sheets. Marjorie intercepted Chet's correcting
grab with a grip of her own. "Oh, come off it, Bro. Let
him be. You share your cereal with Herbie all the time. 
I'll just keep an eye out and cut off all the parts he drools
on. No problem. I'll defend your half."

"Marj we're gonna have problems if they catch you
in here with him. And I'm not eating. I can't. I mean
whoever heard of someone right out of abdominal
surgery being allowed to eat?"

"You had a repair, Chester. And that's a whole different
ball game. Only difference between getting basic stitches
and what you had done, is the fact that yours are on
three layers with two rows inside, and those are just 
on your spleen and along your abdominal lining.  
Nice stapling job topside. Saw them when Dixie 
changed your dressing."

"That sounds so appetizing Sis. Here, you eat this." 
he said, plunking pizza carton, Herbie and all on the 
bed in between them. Herbert went right on gnawing 
at a pepperoni. Despite his feigned disgust, Chet's 
stomach growled.

Marjorie laughed and handed him a pizza slice with no
Herbert pawprints on it and a paper towel. "Uh huh.. tell
me another lie big brother and I'll restart our practical
joke war despite our vow to never do them whenever
one of us is sick or hurt."

"Ha ha. Very funny." But Chet began to eat, fussing over
his IV. "I wonder why I'm not puking my guts out. I did
last time I had surgery. Remember my broken
shoulder from that cave in rescue? Needed surgical 
reduction for that one."

"I remember, I was the one who had to listen to you
whining for two weeks while ya mended." Marj laughed
through her freckles and curly bangs. "You aren't nauseated
because Dr. Brackett told you not to be."

"Kel Brackett was here?"

"No, the other one."

"What other one?" Chet said, "Hand me that water
pitcher will you. I'm thirsty enough to drink my IV."

Marj slid the water jug over and a glass, but not
before she poured some into a toothpaste tube
cap as a water dish for Herbert the mouse.

"Kelly Brackett's dad is a psychologist. The gang
wanted to hear how you were faring in surgery so
Brent Brackett went in to find out. Then Brent told us
all on the phone that he had suggested a few things
to you while you were under to make your recovery
happen faster. Oh, Chester, did you know you 
were almost in a coma when they brought you 
in? You scared the living snot out of Johnny. "

"I did?"

"Yeah. I'd never seen him so quiet and focused 
until we got the news your injuries were only 
appearing to be more than minor. Roy told me Gage 
wouldn't leave your side at all while you were still 
having trouble breathing. Even after you were at 
Rampart with two doctors working on you."

"I remember hearing Cap's joke about the rain,
and then I remember getting very cold. Dreamed
I was drowning."

"You weren't drowning Chester. They decontaminated
you with a water hose on scene and Mendelson had you
firmly on a demand valve so no water got in. Geez Louise, even 
I know how dangerous liquid ammonia is on the skin. 
Lucky you didn't get much more than a whiff in your 
lungs or I'd be leaving my rubber chickens on your 
coffin instead of in your sh--.. 
Never mind."she broke off.

Chet's eyes narrowed as he played with a now fat, 
pizza filled, burping Herbert, making jungle gyms 
out of his fingers for the mouse. He finally 
spoke with long practice at a conversation
he had shared with Marj many many times 
before in the past.
"They gotta be in my shoes, Sis, since I'm not 
wearing any shorts on account of these lovely 
staples I've got under my sheets here. Ok, fess up. 
Which shoes?"

Marjorie was pinned, fairly. "Ok, I had the guys take 
back a set of my top end RC's, you know the ones
that spray baby powder out the moment they're 
moved, to rig into your locker shoes for you to find 
when you got back, is that such a crime?"

"The guys were here?!" Chet said mortified.

"Yeah, so? What's the big deal? They were in,
they were out. Guess they came so Roy and Johnny
could see with their own paramedic eyes that you
were truly out of hot water. They even reassured 
themselves further by taking a vitals set on ya for 
the nurses chart while you were sleeping."

"What's the big deal? What's the big deal?! Sis, tell me
they didn't see Herbert here."

Marjorie was a mouse. But Herbert squeaked in
betrayal. He wasn't a good liar at all.

"Marj!!" Chet complained, and Herbert leaped
into Marjorie's plaid shirt pocket in fear at Chet's
thundering protest. Kelly immediately gripped his
sheet covered staples. "Ow...WWWW...www ..
G*d D*mn it.. ..Ow..  ..Why me?"

"Hush, That's Captain Stanley's line. Or at least, I think
it is from what you've told me about him." Marj 
admonished.
"Dix told me if you're gonna cough, shout or sneeze,
to hug a pillow before you do so. It'll hurt less."
She said, smacking his face with one, before gently
setting it on his stomach.

"Yeah? It'll hurt more later on when I get better
and back to duty and have to face the guys finding
out I found Herbert again and kept him as a pet.. I'll
never hear the end of it!"

"So? We'll just...deflect them with another Phantom
Strikes war."

"Won't work, they're on to me." Chet complained.
"Oh Marj. Why'd ya have ta bring Herbert to see me
today of all days?"

"He knew something was up." she said defensely as only
a younger sister could. "Squeaked something awful 
in his Habitrail maze about the same time as your 
accident. That's how I knew to call in and  ...when ...
I found out  that you were really down on the ground 
out there." and Marjorie sniffled and Chet saw sudden
bright full tears fill his sister's amber eyes.

"Come here, little Sis.." Chet said, and he hugged 
Marj with a grin. "Quit it. I must really be fine if I'm 
not on an EKG and no doctors or nurses are in sight. 
Does Gramps and my little brother know about all
this?"

"Yes, Gramps and Brendon send their best, Chester.." 
she sighed into his hair. "Wouldn't be surprised if a 
bouquet of flowers wrapped in antique barbed wire gets 
sent in this afternoon to your room personally."

"Why didn't you tell them that they didn't have 
to go through the trouble?"

"Because they're just as stubborn as anyone
else in our family Chester when it comes to
reaching out. And you and I both know that
it's a terribly long distance still keeping us apart.
Might as well be light years between California
and Wyoming. Just take the flowers when they
come with good grace."

Chet released her and Marj handed them both
tissues from the bed table. Herbert poked his
head out of Marj's shirt pocket at the scent of 
tears and squeaked a question. 

Chet patted his chest and the mouse
happily ran to his chin again to nibble and cuddle
in his moustache, like a dog rubbing himself on
a couch after a bath. "Thanks Marj. I feel better
already. I'm only dreading what the guys will do
to me after I get back to work now they know
I rescued Herbert from the untamed city wilds.
I was chosen to be the station's.." he covered
Herbert's ears with two fingers. ".. exterminator."

"Oh, poo.. " Marj sighed with a mischievous grin.
"Fodder for the fires, my fraternal fellow prankster. 
It will give us an excuse to come up with more devious
jokes to play on your friend Johnny Gage, now 
wouldn't it?"

"Hmmm.." Chet said. He closed his eyes, and 
started chewing pizza while they planned.

It was just a few minutes later..
Outside the room, a nurse was walking by Chet's
hospital room. She overheard a single sentence.
"And Herbert, if you so much as squeak a word
of this prank to anyone, I'll trade Chester Bartholomew
the puppy for a cat and move you into the station!"

SQuuueeAAakKKKKK!

The nurse, thinking she was hearing things, moved
on when a woman's laughter covered up the 
odd animal noise she had thought she heard but
finally dismissed as only imagined. ::I gotta cut out 
on drinking all of that coffee..:: she promised
herself. ::Starting tomorrow.::
 
--------------------------------------

Photo : Chet in a T shirt, sleeping on a bed.

Photo : Cap, Johnny and Roy in T- shirts watching
            Chet sleep.

Photo: Chet looking caught.

Photo: Herbert the mouse in someone's hands.

Photo : Marjorie and Brendon Kelly, Chet's little brother
            and sister.

*****************************
From : "SM Fortis" <satchie51@hotmail.com>  
Subject :  [EmergencyTheaterLive] Hello?  
Date : Thu, 12 Dec 2002 23:15:18 -0600 
 
Offstory-

Pictures reproduced with permission from:

Tigger’s Emergency Stuff
http://exit3.i-55.com/~ffaller/emergency/

Slide Show Central
http://lovegage.topcities.com/slide/

Back In Story-
 

Silently cursing himself as he entered the elevator,
Kel punched the button for the ground floor.  What
was he thinking when he invited his father to
spend time with him at work?  Did he possess
a bizarre need to validate his sense of self-
worth?  Was he trying to dazzle him with his
diagnostic and surgical abilities?  After all
these years, did Brent Brackett’s opinion still
matter?

Upon reaching his destination, Kel approached
his office with grim determination.  With greater
force than was necessary, he flung the door open.
Brent sat in one of the leather-upholstered chairs
in front of the imposing desk.  Pasting a smile on
his face, Kel addressed his father.

"Hey, Dad.  Are you ready to head to the Doctor's
Lounge?"

Brent shrugged his shoulders.  "In a minute.  I
thought we could talk first."

The younger Brackett nervously laughed.  "You
sound like a typical shrink.  You guys always
want to talk."

"Spoken like a true surgeon.  Always wanting to
plunge right into things."

"Dad.."

"It’s okay," Brent said.  "Obviously we each
have our own talents."

An uncomfortable silence ensued.  Feeling like
a world-class jerk for his behavior earlier, Kel
cleared his throat.  "Dad, I’m sorry for that
little stunt in the OR.  It was immature and
uncalled for.  You just caught me off guard,
that’s all."

"I know.  But when you invited me to watch you
work, you didn’t plan on me ambushing you either."

"I did assume it would be under more controlled
circumstances," Kel admitted.

Leaning back in his chair, Brent said, "I had an
opportunity to speak with a couple of your biggest
fans this evening."

"Oh?"

"The paramedics that work with the firefighter
you operated on.  I believe their names were Roy
and Johnny?"

Kel smiled broadly.  "They were one of the first
teams I trained.  I wasn’t a huge supporter of
the program initially.  Oh, to be honest, I was
vehemently against it.  I thought it was dangerous
and essentially amounted to practicing medicine
without a license.  But eventually I came around
and became one of the program’s staunchest defenders.
We cleared some substantial legislative hurdles and
funding crises, and now I can’t imagine how we managed
pre-hospital care without our paramedics."

"They were quite effusive in their praise,"
Brent commented.  "You certainly have earned
their respect.  You’re more than a mentor to these
men."

Suddenly embarrassed, Kel joked, "Well, perhaps
they may not feel so charitable when it’s time
for their annual performance evaluations."

"Seriously, Kel.  That says a great deal about
your character.  I would be immensely flattered
if someone thought that highly of me."

"But Dad, you’re well respected in your field."

"It’s not the same," Brent lamented.  "So what
if I’ve published extensively?  Other than
impressing a handful of snobbish colleagues
and adding a few lines to my Curriculum Vitae,
I haven’t accomplished anything of lasting
significance."

Kel rubbed his temple.  First there was the
strange confession in the restaurant, and now
there was a melancholy tone to his father’s last
remark.  This was proving to be an interesting
evening.

Staring at the carefully arranged bookcase, Brent
continued.  "Based on the hospital grapevine, I
expected you to be arrogant and overbearing, and
thought your employees would cower in your presence.
Instead, I discovered you’re merely passionate
about your life’s calling.  In retrospect, I can
see your career choice wasn’t an act of parental
defiance.  This is what you were meant to do."

"I can’t imagine doing anything else, Dad.  I
feel complete here."

"Yes, I can see that now."

Resting his elbows on his desk, Kel asked, "Dad?
Don’t you think we need to forgive ourselves
too?"

Brent raised a questioning eyebrow.  "What?"

"Don’t get me wrong.  Forgiving each other is
a significant step in the right direction in
putting our relationship back on track, but it
isn’t going to help if we’re consumed with guilt
over past offenses."

The elder Brackett buried his face in his hands.
"That’s easier said than done.  You don’t have
a constant reminder of your mistakes."

"I don’t understand," Kel said.

"Your mother isn’t the same person anymore.
She blames me for tearing her family apart.
Scarcely a day goes by that I’m not reminded
of my failures as a father.  You have no idea
what it’s like to go home every day, knowing
your presence is barely tolerated."

"So when you moved to Los Angeles."

"I was not only trying to reestablish communi-
cation with you, I was trying to save my marriage,"
Brent finished.

"Wow," Kel exclaimed.  "I had no idea.  Mom
always sounds okay when I talk to her."

"Of course, she would," Brent snorted.
"You’re her precious baby, even if you are
forty-two years old.  She still wants to protect
you from all of the unpleasant things in life."

"Oh, man.  I really messed up, didn’t I?  I
must have broken her heart when I left home."

"She was pretty upset with both of us," Brent
pointedly added.  "You’re not entirely at fault."

Kel was furious with himself.  He was so anxious
to escape his domineering father, he never
considered the effect his departure would have
on this mother.  During telephone conversations,
she always sounded so cheerful.  Now it was
apparent because of the power struggle between
the two men, his mom had been cruelly deprived
of the most cherished relationships in her life.

"Do you think she’ll ever be able to forgive
me?" Kel asked earnestly.

"Hah!  You’re completely blameless as far as
she’s concerned.  I’m the heartless ..well, you
get the idea."

"That’s not fair.  It was ultimately my decision.
I could have handled the situation better," Kel
reasoned.

"Hindsight is always crystal clear, son," Brent
replied.  "At the time, you were so blinded by
your contempt for me, I doubt you could have
arrived at any other solution.  Besides, as much
as I hate to admit, I was relieved to see you go.
After years of yelling and screaming, I looked
forward to having some quiet time with your mother."

The younger man attempted a feeble grin.  "I assume
that was a case of be careful of what you wish for?"

"Absolutely.  Your mother didn’t speak to me for
weeks.  The situation deteriorated to the point
where we separated for a couple of months."

"You’re kidding!"  As Kel looked across his desk,
he realized the man sitting opposite him was a
stranger.  It was difficult to comprehend this
was someone he once shared his dreams and aspirations
with.  Was it his imagination, or did his father age
a little bit more each time he shared another
humbling personal secret?

"So how are you two doing now?" Kel inquired.

Running his fingers across his chin, Brent responded,
"We’re managing.  We’ve settled into a comfortable
routine here, and she’s made new friends.  But
hardly a day goes by that she doesn’t ask about
you.  She wants to know if I’ve seen you, do you
look well, how is your career doing that sort
of thing.  Mainly she wants to know why I haven’t
marched into your office and thrown myself at
your mercy."

Mentally evaluating the available floor space,
Kel said, "I don’t know, Dad.  Perhaps there’s a
spot over here where prostration might be an option."

A chuckle was heard from across the room.  "I’ve
groveled enough for one evening.  We’re overdue
for a cup of coffee."  As Brent rose from his
chair, Kel motioned for him to sit down.

"Wait a minute, Dad.  I want to make a phone
call."

"Can’t it wait until tomorrow?  It’s late."

"That’s the problem.  I’m hoping it’s not too
late," Kel explained.

Puzzled, Brent sat back down.  "Who are you
calling?"

"I want to call Mom."

"At this hour?"

Jolted to reality, Kel pushed the phone back
to the corner of his desk.  "You’re right.
I don’t know what got into me.  Besides, I don’t
even have the number on me."

Moved by the haunted expression in his son’s
eyes, Brent sighed.  "Do you have a pen?"

"No, she’s probably already in bed.  I’ll call
her later."

His father seized control of the phone and dialed
the familiar number.  Thrusting the receiver into
Kel’s hands, Brent quietly left the room.

With each ring, Kel’s heart rate accelerated.
His mouth felt incredibly dry.  Oh, this was
ridiculous, he thought.  He was a grown man
calling his own mother.  It wasn’t like he was
a gawky teenager asking the prom queen out for
a date!

The ringing stopped and was replaced by a gentle
voice.  Summoning his courage, Kel tentatively
said, "Mom?  It’s Kel."

------------------------------------------

Photo : Dr. Brackett and Dr. Early in a corridor.

Photo : Dr. Brackett being firm about a concern.

Photo : Roy telling Dr. Brackett about something
            over the ER requisitions desk.

*********************************
From :rosanne iho <irosanne@yahoo.com>  
Subject : [EmergencyTheaterLive] It looked like a man..  
Date : Sat, 14 Dec 2002 13:39:53 -0800 (PST)  
    

It was Chet Kelly's first day back to work.

In the rec' room of Los Angeles County 
Fire Station 51, six firemen sat huddled in 
front of a TV set, watching the Dodgers and 
the Padres battling it out in the first game of 
a double-header. They cheered, as Dodger's 
pitcher, Don Sutton, struck out the Padres--
one, two, three. The Dodgers came to bat. 
First baseman, Steve Garvey, hit a single. 
Outfielder, Dave Lopes, also singled. Sutton 
walked. With the bases loaded--and no outs
--Dodger slugger, Dusty Baker, stepped up 
to the plate.

"There's the wind up...and the pi--!" the 
announcer began, only to be drowned out 
by the Station's alarm.

There was a group groan. 

"Squad 51..." the dispatcher declared, and 
the Station's Engine Crew untensed.

Paramedics John Gage and Roy DeSoto 
groaned again and started heading for the 
garage.

"Child down...Wonder Wheels Park...Three 
and one half miles east on Dart Lane...Then, 
two and a quarter miles south on Ridgeway 
Road...Take the first left on Coolidge...It's 
the fourth driveway on the right...Caller 
advises you go in the second gate..."

"Got it, L.A...." John acknowledged, when 
he finished his jotting.

"10-4, Squad 51..." a rather relieved relayer 
came back, "Ambulance responding...Time 
out...17:03"

"Squad 51, KMG-365," the fireman further 
acknowledged. He replaced the radio, snatched 
up their copy of the call slip and raced around 
the rescue squad. "We'll start with east on Dart 
Lane," he proposed, piling into the passenger's 
seat and pulling on his helmet. 

His partner nodded his approval of the plan.

##############################

Eight minutes of masterful map-reading later, 
DeSoto drove through the second gate at 
Wonder Wheels Park and cut the sirens.

"Squad 51...cancel," their radio announced.

Squad 51's occupants stared down at the 
dashboard in disbelief.

"We may as well check it out," Roy determined, 
"After all the trouble we went through to get here."

Gage nodded in agreement and grabbed the mic'. 
"L.A., Squad 51. We are at the scene and intend 
to follow through with the call."

"Roger that, 51..."

DeSoto parked the Squad at the edge of an 
enormous concrete lot. He and his partner 
exited the cab and started strolling off in the 
direction of a movie crew, filming skate boarding 
stunts. They watched--in wide-eyed wonder--as 
a young skate boarder went flying off the end of 
a three foot ramp, spun twice around and landed 
gracefully back onto the lot--still on her skate 
board! Seeing as how they were being completely 
ignored, Roy cleared his throat and queried, "Did 
somebody call the Fire Department?"

"I'm okay...Honest!" the girl insisted, as she 
came rolling up. "It's just a little 'road rash'..." 
she added, and pointed to her scraped and 
bleeding knees.

"You sure you're not seriously hurt?" Gage 
grilled her.

The little lady rolled her eyes and motioned 
towards the concrete lot. "Did that look like 
I was seriously hurt?"

"Looks can be deceiving," Roy reminded the girl. 
"Why don't we check you out real quick...just 
to be sure."

The film's director stepped between the 
paramedics and his star. "If the kid says she's 
okay--she's okay! Pam's a Pro!"

The thirteen-year-old nodded, defiantly.

"You didn't hit your head, did you?" Roy's 
still-worried partner wondered.

Pam gave Gage another roll of her eyes and 
shook her pretty little head 'no'.

John sighed. "Well...since you won't let us 
examine you...I...uh...guess we'll be getting 
back to the Station. And, you can get back to..." 
he glanced down at the skate board, "...that."

The girl gave herself a push and went rolling 
off across the lot.

"Shouldn't she be wearing a helmet?" DeSoto, 
the Dad, wondered aloud.

Pamela's Producer completely ignored the 
pesky paramedic. "All right, Kiddo...How about 
a backward somersault with a reverse handstand?"

The young 'Pro' picked up speed.

The two firemen exchanged alarmed looks 
and then watched, in amazement, as Pam 
flipped herself back over into a somersault.

The little lady landed in a crouched position, 
threw her feet up into the air and went gliding 
by--standing on her hands! As she turned her 
board around and went sailing by for a second 
time, she flashed the camera a beautiful, 
upside-down smile.

The paramedics released their held breaths 
and began heading for their rescue squad. 

"If this is a sample of what people are gonna 
be doing at Wonder Wheels Park," Gage grumbled, 
"Something tells me we're gonna be coming 
here...quite often."

"After a week or two," DeSoto glumly 
concurred, "we'll know the way by heart."

They climbed back into their truck's cab.

John thumbed the radio mic'. "L.A., Squad 51 
available...Returning to quarters."

"Roger, 51..."

########################### 


DeSoto backed the Squad into Station 51's 
parking bay. The paramedic team piled out 
and sprinted into the rec' room.

"What happened after we left?" Gage asked 
the guys who were still huddled in front of 
the television, watching the game.

No one answered til a commercial came on. 
Then, Chet turned and said, "You had to see 
it to appreciate it, Gage."

"See what?" the impatient P.M. demanded.

Kelly completely ignored the question and 
continued, "I mean, it was really amazing! 
Right, Cap?"

"Hu-uh?..." Stanley stammered, not turning 
his gaze from the TV's screen. "Oh...yeah...
it was amazing...absolutely!"

Gage gasped in exasperation and turned to 
Stoker, "What happened, Mike?"

"Dusty Baker hit a grand-slam homerun!" the 
Engineer obligingly answered. "I can't remember 
who else did what, but the Dodgers got ten 
runs in the second inning!"

"We missed it!" John lamented, "For a lousy 
cancelled call! We missed it!" The sportscaster 
came back on and announced the score. 
"Twelve to nothin'?! How one-sided can you 
get?!" the peeved paramedic declared and 
turned to leave.

"Where yah goin'?" his partner pondered.

"To work on the Log Book," Gage glumly 
replied, "It'll be more exciting."

His crew mates glanced at one another and 
grinned.

############################

A-shift filed into the dorm of Station 51 six 
hours and three calls later.

"Lights out in five minutes!" an extremely 
tired Captain Stanley warned his equally 
exhausted crew.

The men stripped down to their t-shirts and 
boxers and, after setting up their bunker pants 
and boots, collapsed--gratefully--into their beds. 
They were asleep the moment their pillows 
hit their heads. 

They stayed right where they laid until just 
after eleven...when the alarm went off.

"Station 51..."

Stanley and his crew threw their covers off and 
began climbing out of their bunks and into the 
bottom half's of their turn-outs.

"Man down...unknown type rescue...213 
East Morrow Drive...Ambulance responding...
Two-One-Three East Morrow Drive...Time 
out...23:02"

On the way to the garage, the firemen 
exchanged mystified glances. Then they 
shrugged their suspenders into place and 
scrambled up into their trucks, still sliding 
jackets and helmets on.

"Station 51...KMG-365," the Captain 
acknowledged the dispatcher. Stanley shot 
his paramedics a rather puzzled look, before 
crossing the bay and climbing up into the 
Engine. 

DeSoto took the copy of the call slip he was 
handed and passed it on to his partner, "I 
thought you said Mr. Fajou was in Florida..."

"He is!" John adamantly stated, "He's visitin' 
some old friend a' his from the film studio 
who's retired in Miami. Won't be back for 
another two weeks..."

Roy's look of confusion quadrupled.

"Talk about 'deja` vu'..." Mike Stoker 
solemnly stated, "The FIRST time we went 
to 213 East Morrow Drive, the Dodgers 
and Padres were playing a double-header, 
too..."

Stanley shot his astute Engineer an amused 
glance and clipped his copy of the call slip 
to the dash.

Moments later, both trucks pulled out onto 
the street in front of the Station, lights 
flashing and sirens blaring.

########################### 


And, so it was that the men of L.A. County 
Fire Station 51 found themselves--once again
--up on the ancient-looking mansion's moonlit 
front porch...waiting impatiently while their 
leader rang the eerie 'go-ong' and rapped 
the big, bronze door-knocker.

"The yard looks nice..." Hank commented, 
just for something to say.

"Thanks, Cap. Reggie's got--Mr. Fajou has 
this really cool riding lawn mower," John 
enthusiastically announced, "24 horse...with 
a three blade deck and a 52 inch cut!"

"And electric hedge-trimmers!" Marco added, 
sounding equally excited.

There followed several seconds of uncomfortable 
silence.

"This is just TOO weird!" Chet Kelly determined, 
finally putting what everyone was thinking into words.

Stanley considered saying something like: 
'Well, we can't stand out here all night.' But 
then quickly reconsidered it. Instead, he just 
grabbed a hold of the knob and twisted it. 

Just like the first time, they found the front 
door to be unlocked. "Fire Department!" the 
Captain called into the dimly lit entryway, 
"Anybody home?!" Just like the first time, 
he received no reply. "All right!" Hank exclaimed, 
throwing the door open wide and stepping 
aside, "You all know the drill..." 

The paramedics set their equipment down 
in the entry hall. Roy and Marco immediately 
headed for the upstairs. John and Chet began 
making their way into the back kitchen and 
the basement door, while Mike followed his 
Captain off to explore the first floor.

############################# 


John jerked the creaky portal open, "After you..." 
he invited with a wave of his arm. Upon seeing 
his companion's mustached mouth opening in 
protest, he quickly added,"I went first the last 
time..."

"All right," Kelly reluctantly conceded, "But I 
should probably warn you...You'd better be 
ready to get the hell out a' my way! Because...
if I see even so much as a mouse...I'm gonna 
go screaming into the night! And I'll be plowing 
through anything--or anybody--that gets in 
my path!" Chet shot his chuckling chum an 
annoyed glare. Then he drew in a deep breath 
and begrudgingly began descending the stairs. 
The two men made it down about two steps, 
and then stopped, hearing their Captain calling 
for them. "This is just TOO weird!" Kelly 
repeated as the two of them re-retreated.

############################ 


"Yeah, Cap?" John inquired as he and his 
associated slid to a stop in front of Stanley.

"Upstairs!" their Captain prompted and passed 
the pair of new arrivals the paramedic 
equipment, "First room on the right!"

Gage grabbed the cases he was handed and 
took the stairs, two steps at a time. 

Kelly latched onto the oxygen tank and the 
remaining case, and quickly followed.

They entered the first doorway on the right. 
The dimly lit room was a library--judging by 
all the books it contained. There was an elderly 
lady lying, motionless, on an ornate, oriental rug
--which covered about a third of the room's 
hardwood floor. John's partner was kneeling 
beside the nonmoving woman, performing 
his initial patient survey.

"Heart?" Gage wondered, dropping his gear 
and himself down next to DeSoto.

Roy replied with a quick shrug of his shoulders. 
"She's got a goose-egg the size of my fist," 
he announced and began opening and emptying 
equipment cases, "Apparently, she fell and 
hit the back of her head--probably on the 
edge of that thing..." he added, motioning 
to the large oak desk resting on the floor 
in front of one the room's wall-to-wall 
bookcases.

John tossed his helmet up onto the desk 
and donned his stethoscope.

His partner finished his preliminary exam and 
began reaching for their bio-phone, "Let's get 
her patched in and we might be able to 
determine what caused the fall..." 

Their Captain poked his head into the room. 
"Ambulance is here," he announced, "You 
guys got everything you need from the Squad?"

Gage gave him a nod and then frowned, as a 
sternal rub and a dose of smelling salts produced 
no results in their patient. "Cap? Can you check 
the medicine chests and nitestands for any 
prescription meds? Oh, and try to find her 
purse, too. There may not be any pills in it, 
but her wallet might contain some helpful 
medical information."

"You bet! Chet, you get the bedrooms!" their 
Commander relegated, "Marco, you get 
the bathrooms! Mike and I will handle the 
purse detail."

As the firemen exited, the ambulance 
attendants entered, towing a gurney.

########################### 


Kelly was the first man back. He returned 
empty-handed. Lopez followed, a couple of 
minutes later, with his helmet full of pill 
bottles. Gage dumped two thirds of the 
helmet's contents into an 'urp' sack, and 
then placed the paper bag on their patient's 
stretcher.

"According to her driver's license," Stanley 
stated, as he and Stoker re-entered the 
room, "she's Mrs. Margaret Bentley. No 
medical info and no 'scrip's," he added, 
sounding almost apologetic.

"Thanks, Cap!" Roy acknowledged, as he 
accepted the purse that was passed to him. 
DeSoto snatched up several cases and 
followed the attendants as they towed 
the packaged patient from the room.

"I wonder where Mister Bentley is?" Marco 
queried, and stood there, staring glumly 
down at the two plastic pill bottles still in 
his helmet: Mr.Norman Bentley's 
prescription meds.

"Yeah," Chet chimed in, "Someone had to 
call this in..."

"Chet's right, Cap," Mike Stoker concurred, 
"This is just TOO weird! The rescue doesn't 
even match the call!"

"It's the full moo-oon..." John jokingly 
determined, trying his level best to sound 
solemn and sinister. But a broad grin 
betrayed him. He picked up the remainder 
of their paramedic gear and went snickering 
out into the hall.

Stanley and his Engine crew exchanged 
amused glances. "C'mon!" Hank urged, 
"There's a bed back at the Station, with 
my name on it!"

"Maybe the Bentleys are Reggie's--Mr. Fajou's 
relatives..." Marco mumbled under his breath 
and set Mr. Bentley's scrip's down on a lamp 
stand. "O-or, maybe Reggie--Mr. Fajou had 
hired himself a couple of house sitters? " Lopez 
exhaled a resigned sigh and followed his 
fellow firefighters from the library.

########################### 


John finished stowing the gear. He closed the 
side compartments on the Squad and stepped 
up to the driver's door. "Doggone it!" he 
exclaimed and slammed his open palm into 
the side of the truck.

Hank Stanley, who was half-way into his 
seat, heard the paramedic's angry explicative, 
and winced. "What no-ow?!"

"Ah, Cap..." Gage regrettably replied, " I forgot 
my helmet...again."

"That's the third time this month, John!" his 
irritated Captain realized, "Why can't you 
just leave it fastened to your head?!"

"It gets in the way of the phone and my 
stethosco--"

"Never mind!" his Captain quickly cut in, 
"Just go get it! We'll wait for you. Kelly, 
go with him!"

"Ahhh, Cap...Do I have to?" Chet whined.

"Move it, you two! Or do you WANT to find 
out what the penalty is for making your 
Captain lose his sleep?!" Hank added, seeing 
Kelly dragging his feet.

Chet picked up his pace. In fact, the two 
helmet retrievers went running back up to 
the mansion's front door, and quickly 
disappeared inside.

Stoker turned to Stanley, looking curious. 
"What is the penalty?"

"I don't know," his Captain confessed, 
"But I assure you, it wouldn't be pleasant! 
I can get awfully cranky when I'm 
sleep-deprived!"

Mike and Marco grinned.

########################## 


Kelly halted in the entrance hall. "I'm waitin' 
right here! And, hurry it up, will yah! This place 
gives me the creeps!"

"I'm hurryin'! I'm hurryin'!" John assured 
his creeped out companion, and took the 
stairs two steps at a time. Gage reached 
the dimly lit library and glanced around. He 
spotted his helmet, setting on the desk, 
and smiled. As he crossed over and 
reached out to pick it up, he happened to 
glance down. There, on the floor behind the 
desk, was a strange, curved scratch mark. 
The mark had been carved into the polished 
varnished floor boards by something heavy. 
'Something heavy...like a bookshelf!' the 
paramedic mused, 'I'll bet there's a 'secret 
passage' behind this thing!' He examined 
the object carefully...pulling and pounding 
and probing for some sort of 'secret' lever 
or button or something! 'Nothing!' he 
silently surmised and his shoulders slumped. 

He stooped to examine the funny, curved 
scratch mark again. Something heavy 
had been sliding over those floor boards, 
all right! "It's got to move!" he realized 
aloud. He straightened stiffly back up, and 
that's when he noticed that several books 
had been removed from one of the shelves. 
He reached for one of the remaining books 
and found that it wouldn't move. Upon 
closer inspection, he discovered that it 
wasn't a 'book', at all, but a solid block 
of wood with a book's title painted on it! 
"The Mystery On Dobbin's Moor..." he 
read aloud and gave the block of wood 
a jerk. 

The bookcase moved, startling 
him. John jumped back and stared in 
wide-eyed wonder as the entire shelf 
swung slowly out into the room, 
revealing a passageway in the wall 
behind it! "Only in the movies, huh..." 
he stated rather smugly, "I knew it! 
I knew it!" He stepped up and poked 
his head into the passageway. It led 
to a descending stairway. Gage stiffened 
suddenly and blinked his wide eyes in the 
dim light. There, at the bottom of the 
stairs, he could barely make out the 
motionless outline of a man. 

The explorer immediately kicked back 
into the paramedic mode. "HEY, CHET! 
GET UP HERE! HURRY!" he turned and 
shouted. John snatched his helmet up 
before stepping into the passageway. 

The opening mechanism reached the 
end of its guide rail and the bookcase 
stopped moving--but only for a 
moment. Because the 'stopper' on 
the end of the guide rail was broken, 
the opening mechanism left the track 
and a powerful spring slammed the 
bookcase back against the wall with 
a terrific force! 

Gage heard the spring 'snap'. Then, 
something struck him in the back 
of the head. There was an explosion 
of light--then...nothing! Everything 
went _____. He and his retrieved 
helmet went tumbling down the 
hidden staircase.

######################### 

Kelly heard Gage calling him...and then, a 
loud 'BA-ANG!' He hurried up the stairs and 
into the library. John was nowhere in sight! 
"Hey, Johnny...c'mon, man! Quit the 
clowning! Cap' just ain't gonna see the 
humor in this!" he added angrily. "Johnny?..." 
Kelly nervously repeated, following a 
thorough search of the room. "I know 
you're in here...I've been watching the door, 
and I would've seen you leave..." his words 
trailed off and a tingle went up his spine. 
"GAGE! GET OUT HERE! RIGHT NOW!" 

His only answer was dead silence. Chet 
shivered, and not from the cold. 
"...please?" he tacked on rather pitifully.

########################## 


John came to at the bottom of the hidden 
stairway. He groaned and rolled onto his 
stomach. When he opened his eyes, he 
couldn't see a thing. It was pitch black. 
He picked his aching, spinning head up 
off the floor and shook it, in an attempt 
to clear some of the cobwebs and put a 
stop to the loud, high-pitched 'ringing' in 
his ears. The only thing the shaking 
accomplished however, was to increase his 
pain--tenfold! 

Somehow, he managed to make it 
up onto his hands and knees. He spotted a 
thin strip of light and crawled over to it. He 
reached up, groping in the darkness for a 
door knob. There wasn't one. So, he leaned 
against the wall and tried to stand. The 'wall' 
gave way and the paramedic went sprawling 
out of the concealed room and onto the 
polished marble tiles of the mansion's 
entryway. Gage groaned again and slowly 
picked himself back up off of the floor. He 
stood there, dazed, disoriented and very 
dizzy. He shut his squinting eyes and placed 
his hands over his ears in another attempt to 
block out the painfully loud, and incredibly 
annoying 'ringing'.

######################### 

Kelly backed out of the library and started 
quickly down the stairs. He stopped halfway 
and his mouth dropped open. There, in the 
middle of the entrance hall, stood his no-
longer-missing amigo. "How'd you do that?" 
he wondered curiously and skipped down 
the remaining steps to stand face to face 
with finally found friend. "Will yah quit the 
clowning, already?!" Chet pleaded, as John 
completely ignored him.

Gage staggered back a few feet and then 
caught his balance. He opened his eyes, 
saw Kelly standing there and quietly 
inquired, "...what's that noise?"

Kelly listened carefully. All his straining 
ears could detect was the steady ticking 
of the hall clock. He stared at Gage's 
bare head and empty hands for a few 
miffed moments and then threw his arms 
up in complete exasperation. "That does 
it!" he declared and began heading for 
the front door, "I'm out a' here! I ain't 
getting the Cap' mad at ME!"

Gage turned and watched in confusion 
as associate angrily stomped off. "What 
happened?" he wondered in a whisper. 
A sudden wave of nausea came over 
him and he slowly dropped to his knees. 

"Man, if I were you, I'd find my helmet 
REAL QUICK!" Chet chastised. He grabbed 
a hold of the knob and glanced back, 
"Before Cap' comes bargin'--" he saw 
something glistening on the back of 
his now kneeling comrade's hanging 
head and stopped. "Hey, Johnny! You're 
not clowning!" he quickly realized and 
went rushing up to his collapsed 
companion. "That's REAL bloo-ood!" 
He grabbed Gage by the arms and 
slowly straightened him up, "What 
happened?!"

John tried blinking his blurred vision 
into focus. He saw Kelly's lips moving, 
but couldn't hear a word he was saying...
on account of that dang incessant 
'ringing'! "Can you stop that noise?" 
he requested. Another wave of 
nausea washed over him. He shut 
his eyes tightly and lowered his 
throbbing head, "...please...stop 
that noise," he pleaded rather pitifully.

"Man! You must a' really got your bell 
rung!" Kelly concluded. Gage ignored 
him and started struggling back up onto 
his feet. So, Chet draped the dazed 
paramedic's left arm around his neck, 
wrapped his own right arm around 
the whoozey man's waist, and began 
heading for the exit. 

######################## 


Mike and Marco watched as their very 
vexed Commander climbed stiffly down 
from Big Red and began heading for the 
mansion's front door with long, 
deliberate strides.

The Captain crossed the porch, pushed the 
not completely closed portal open and 
shouted, "GAGE! KELLY! OUT HERE! NO-OW!...
THAT'S AN ORDER!"

"Cap!" an extremely relieved Chet Kelly 
exclaimed, "Johnny's hurt!"

Stanley rushed into the entrance hall to 
lend Kelly a hand with his burden. "Hurt?! 
What do yah mean 'hu-urt'?! How does 
someone get HURT retrieving a helmet?!"

"I don't know," came back Kelly's equally 
perplexed reply. "He hit the back of his 
head somehow!" 

"What do yah mean 'somehow'?!" his 
furious Commander further demanded, 
"Didn't you SEE what happened?! You 
were supposed to be WITH him!" They 
carted their cargo over to the nearest 
bench and sat him down. Stanley stooped 
in front of the injured fireman and 
steadied him. "What happened, John?" 
No reply.

"It's no use, Cap, " Kelly advised, 
"His ears must still be ringing, or 
something. I don't think he can hear 
us."

Hank slipped his hand-held from his 
coat pocket and thumbed it, "HT 51 to 
Engine 51..."

"Engine 51...Go ahead, Cap..."

"Mike, Marco, bring me a backboard, a 
c-collar, the spare O2 and the trauma 
box!" the Captain requested.

"Right away, Cap!"

Hank exhaled a weary sigh and handed 
his HT to Kelly. "Call it in!" he ordered 
and immediately began making a 
mental list of everything he had ever 
learned about treating head injuries. 
::Keep movement to a minimum...
apply cervical collar...maintain an airway...
administer oxygen to minimize brain 
swelling...monitor circulation...check 
for cerebrospinal fluid...dress the wound 
without disturbing the underlying tissue...
examine the patient for any other injuries.::

Station 51's Captain exhaled another 
exasperated sigh. Then he pulled the 
paramedic's penlite from his assessment 
pouch and began his initial patient 
survey.

########################## 


Roy was standing in the corridor in front of 
the Nurse's Station at Rampart General's 
Emergency Receiving, waiting for his partner 
to pick him up. 

The door to the Doctor's Lounge flew 
open and the ambulance attendants he'd 
just rode in with came hurrying out into 
the hall.

The driver spotted DeSoto and waved 
him over. "You ain't gonna believe this," 
he declared as the paramedic came 
stepping up, "but we just got called 
back to that creepy house!" 

"You can't be serious!" Roy exclaimed.

The driver nodded, "You wanna ride back 
with us?"

"I'm waiting for my partner," Roy replied, 
and pointed to his pile of equipment cases.

"You'll have a lot shorter wait if you come 
with us, " the other attendant piped up. 
"Our patient IS your partner!"

DeSoto gulped in disbelief, but then ran 
over, gathered up his gear and went 
racing towards the exit. The paramedic 
beat the attendants to their ambulance.

########################## 

"Where did you find him?" a flustered Hank 
Stanley asked, upon finishing administering 
his first-aid.

"He was standing right there," Chet 
replied and pointed to middle of the 
entryway.

"He must've slipped and fallen down 
the stairs..." the Captain concluded.

"I don't think so, Cap. The last time I saw 
him, he went into that library...where we 
found that lady with the big bump on the 
back of her head...the next time I saw him, 
he was standing right there...with a big, 
bloody bump on the back of his head. I 
heard this real loud 'ba-ang!' "

Stanley stared up at the ceiling, "Why?! 
Why can't two grown men rescue one 
helmet--without one of them nearly 
being killed!" No reply followed. He 
frowned down at the barely conscious 
fireman on the backboard, "What am I 
gonna do with you, pal?! If I ever find 
out that you got hurt goofing off, I-I'll...." 
he let his threat just hang there in the air. 

The sound of an approaching siren grew 
louder and louder and finally stopped.

Roy hurried into the entrance hall. Seeing 
the patient was packaged and ready to 
transport, the vertical paramedic told the 
two white-coated men who had 
accompanied him, "Let's go! I'll call 
it in on the way!" 

The attendants nodded. They transferred 
the horizontal paramedic's backboard from 
the hall bench to their stretcher, strapped 
it securely in place and began towing the 
patient out to their waiting ambulance.

Roy watched them wheel his partner away 
and then turned to his Captain, "What 
happened?"

"That's what I'd like to know!" Stanley 
smartly replied and passed his questioner 
his medical notes. "And that's what I 
intend to find out! Chet take the Squad! 
Mike, Marco, I want this house turned 
inside out!"

"Aye, aye, Cap!" Kelly acknowledged. 
He snatched up the trauma box and 
gladly followed Roy out of the building. 
"He took a pretty hard blow to the back 
of the head. He's gonna need some 
stitches," the Irishman informed the 
still completely-in-the-dark paramedic. 
"Says he can't remember what happened. 
Claims he can't hear anything because 
there's a loud ringing in his ears..."

DeSoto gave his moustached informant 
a grateful nod and climbed up into the 
back of the ambulance with the bio-
phone and their drug box.

Kelly closed the doors, rapped an 'all 
clear' and then watched the vehicle 
pull away. He gave the creepy-crawly 
dwelling a parting glance, before heading 
for the Squad...with a shudder. He was 
really relieved to be leaving that 'way 
weird' 'banging' abode behind him--for 
good. ::Hopefully... ::

########################### 


"What are we looking for?" Mike wondered 
as they began a thorough search of the library.

"His helmet," their confused Captain replied 
as the object of their search was not 
immediately clearly visible, "It has to be 
in here somewhere! He didn't have it 
with him when Chet found him..."

Stoker stopped in mid-search and stood 
there, resting his hands upon his hips, 
"Cap, everything about this rescue has 
been really strange."

"Yeah, Cap," Lopez agreed, "Maybe we 
should call the police?"

"What? You two think somebody hit 
him over the back of the head and 
stole his helmet?" Stanley jokingly 
inquired. He saw the looks on their 
faces and realized that was exactly 
what they thought. "That's ridiculous!" 

"First, the rescue doesn't match the call..." 
Marco muttered, "Then, Johnny gets 
'mysteriously' hurt..."

"I think there's somebody hiding in this 
house!" Stoker stubbornly insisted. 

Lopez nodded his support of the 
Engineer's notion.

"C'mon!" their Captain urged, "There's 
got to be an explanation to all this 
'strange' business. When we find the 
helmet, I'm sure we'll find the explanation--
a reasonable explanation," their still skeptical 
Commander added, suppressing a smile 
all the while.

########################### 


An hour later, the three firemen finished their 
thorough, and exhausting, search of the 
house and regrouped in the entrance hall...
empty-handed!

Stoker sank wearily down onto the bottom 
step and wondered, "Well, Cap, are you 
convinced now?"

Stanley sighed and tried rubbing some of 
the stiffness from the muscles in the back 
of his neck. "I'm convinced we're wasting 
our time here. C'mon! Let's get back to the 
Station. I wanna call the hospital."

Lopez looked tremendously disappointed, 
"You're not going to call the police?"

"And tell them what?" Hank wondered, 
"Hello, I'd like to report a missing helmet? 
I don't think that would go over too big."

"Maybe not, " Mike admitted, "But what 
about attempted murder?"

Stanley stared at his Engineer in total 
disbelief. "And I thought Gage had an 
overactive imagination! C'mon! Let's 
go get some sleep! It'll give your imagination 
a chance to rest, after running wild like 
that."

But Stoker was undeterred. "Aren't you 
curious?"

Their Captain exhaled a sigh of complete 
exhaustion. "Mike, right now I'm more 
tired than curious. We can look for answers 
again in the morning...later this morning," 
he wearily tacked on, on his way to the 
exit.

########################## 


Fifteen minutes later, Station 51's 
Commander-In-Chief found himself on 
the phone in the rec' room. "Uh-huh...I see...
Uh-huh," he paused to pass DeSoto's 
report on to his skeleton engine crew, 
"No fractures. No hemorrhaging. Just a 
mild concussion, a dozen stitches and a 
bunch of bruises..."

Stoker and Lopez exhaled sighs of relief.

"Already did! A replacement should be 
arriving any minute now. Right! Thanks, 
Roy!" the Captain concluded his conversation 
and returned the phone's handset to its 
cradle. "Thank God!" he exclaimed and 
began heading for his bunk. "Lights out 
in two minutes!" he warned.

Mike flicked off the lights and then he and 
Marco followed their leader over to the 
dorm.

########################### 


Meanwhile, over in Rampart General's ICU...

"Are your ears still ringing?" Dr. Kelly Brackett 
asked, upon completion of his very thorough 
examination of the pouting patient in Room 
602.

The frowning fireman shook his heavily 
bandaged head 'no'.

"Good! You can hear me! How do you feel?" 
There followed a long silence. Kel' turned 
to the nurse, standing at his side and said, 
"Humph! His ears are working...but now 
he can't talk!"

"I was always told if I couldn't say anything 
nice, I shouldn't say anything at all."

Brackett cleared his throat and cracked a 
smile. "Well, I'm glad to see that little bump 
on the head hasn't caused you to lose your 
sense of humor!"

"If I only got a 'little bump on the head', then 
why does my whole body hurt?" Gage 
complained, sounding every bit as grumpy 
as he looked.

"Your whole body hurts because it's black 
and blue."

"Did somebody beat me up?"

"By the location of these bruises, I'd venture 
to say you fell down some stairs..." 
Brackett paused, to study his patient's 
reaction to his little disclosure.

At the mentioning of the word 'stairs', 
a picture of a dark staircase had flashed 
through Gage's groggy memory banks. 
Then another fleeting mental image 
appeared. That of a motionless figure 
sprawled out on the floor at the foot of 
those dark steps. 

"Although Chet swears that's not 
possible..." the doctor paused again, 
"What is it Johnny? You remember 
something?"

"I'm not sure. When you said stairs, I 
suddenly saw--" the paramedic stopped 
and stiffened. "Doc! Are any of the guys 
still here?!"

"Roy and Chet are right outside. Why?"

"I gotta talk to 'em! Hurry! It's important! 
Life and death important!"

"All right. You get one minute," Brackett 
allowed, and began heading for the door, 
"But you have to promise to behave 
yourself!" he called back over his shoulder.

John nodded.

His doctor disappeared out into the hall.

"How is he?" Chet Kelly anxiously inquired.

Brackett folded his arms and frowned. 
"Right now, he's all worked up! Claims 
he has something important to tell the 
two of you. Gentlemen, it's essential that 
he remain as calm and as quiet as possible..." 

ICU's visitors nodded their understanding.

So, Kel' pushed the portal to 602 back 
open and waved them inside, "One 
minute!" he allotted and let the door 
swing shut.

Gage spotted his guests and practically 
shouted, "You guys have got to get 
back to that house! There's somebody 
hurt!"

"Calm down, Johnny!" his partner pleaded. 
"Who's hurt?"

"I don't know. It was kinda' dark. It 
looked like a man."

DeSoto and Kelly exchanged knowing 
glances. They decided to humor him. 
"Okay, Johnny. We'll go back to the 
house and rescue the man. You just 
lie still and don't worry...he'll be just 
fine..."

Gage gazed into his friends' faces. 
He could tell they didn't really believe 
him. "You don't believe me!" he 
exclaimed and tried to sit up. "You 
gotta believe me! He's layin' at the 
bottom of a SECRET stairs!"

The ICU nurse shoved his antsy, 
all-riled-up partner back down on 
his bed.

"We'd better leave!" DeSoto quickly 
determined and he and his fellow visitor 
began beating a hasty retreat.

"No! Don't go! I hafta tell yah how 
to get to the SECRET passage! It's 
behind the bookcase! Mystery On 
Dobbin's Moor! Be careful! The bookcase 
is DEADLY!" John stopped shouting 
as the door swung shut. He turned 
to his tough nurse, "Let me go! I've 
got to make a phone call!"

Brackett glanced up from the medical 
chart he'd been studying and gave 
Gage's guests an annoyed glare. "That 
visit went over well!" he sarcastically 
commented. "What was all the shouting 
about?"

"That bump on the head must've 
scrambled his brains," Roy replied, 
"He saw a Late Late show about a 
month ago, and now he's hallucinating 
houses with hidden rooms!"

The doctor cocked one eyebrow, 
"What did he tell you?"

"Why?"

"I don't think he was hallucinating. What 
exactly did he say?"

Gage's guests glanced at each other again.

Kelly went first. "Well, he said there was 
somebody hurt back at that house."

"Yeah," DeSoto chimed in, "He said it looked 
like a 'man'."

"Then he said something about a secret 
stairway and a secret passage," Kelly 
concluded.

"I think you should check it out!" John's 
doctor advised, speaking in dead earnest. 
"I examined Johnny just before you went 
in there. He was completely mentally alert. 
And," he paused,"he's covered with bruises...
like the bruises one would get from falling 
down a flight of stairs. Now, Chet claims 
he didn't fall down the stairs he was 
watching...so...maybe he fell down a hidden 
stairway?"

Roy remained skeptical.

But Kelly was beginning to come around. 
"It would explain a lot of things," he was 
forced to admit.

"What things?" DeSoto wondered.

"Well, the call for instance. Remember? 
It came in MAN down...unknown type 
rescue. And, Johnny had to get to the 
first floor somehow...and somebody had 
to phone the call in...It would also explain 
why they couldn't find his helmet!"

"That call has been bugging me all night!" 
Roy remarked and started striding off in 
the direction of a phone.

Brackett and Kelly followed along.

Roy picked up the receiver and dialed 
a number from memory.

"Los Angeles County Fire Department 
Central Dispatch," one of the dispatchers 
answered, "May I help you?"

"Yes. This is Squad 51. I need to 
speak to the person who answered 
an emergency call at around eleven. 
The call was to 213 East Morrow Drive."

"Standby, 51," the dispatcher acknowledged 
and placed the call on hold.

Two minutes later, a woman came back 
on the line. "Hello?"

"Hi. This is Squad 51. Did you receive 
the call from 213 East Morrow Drive 
last night?"

"Yes. Why? Did it turn out to be a hoax?"

DeSoto stiffened, "Why'd you ask that?"

"Some hysterical woman called, 
screaming something about her husband 
finding a secret passage in her brother's 
house. Can you imagine? A secret passage?"

Roy slammed the phone down. "Tell Johnny 
I'm sorry I ever doubted him!" he requested 
of Brackett, before tearing off down the 
hospital corridor with Chet hot on his heels. 
They skidded to a stop in front of the elevators 
and DeSoto hit the DOWN button. "L.A., 
Squad 51," he spoke into his HT.

"Go ahead, 51..."

"L.A., we have a silent alarm at 213 East 
Morrow Drive. Request an ambulance and 
Engine 51's assistance."

"10-4, Squad 51...213 East Morrow Drive...
Two-One-Three East Morrow Drive...
Ambulance and Engine 51 responding...
Time Out...2:13"

Kelly caught the Time Out time and turned 
to DeSoto, wearing the oddest expression 
on his moustached face. "2:13? How weird 
is tha-at?!"

The elevator arrived and swallowed them up, 
before Brackett could catch the paramedic's reply. 

The physician managed an amused snort and 
decided to go deliver DeSoto's message. He 
turned around and ran smack dab into his father.

"Don't you ever sleep?" the senior Dr. 
Brackett queried lightly. 

"Dad! What on earth are you doing here at 
this hour?"

"Attempted suicide. 604. What about you?"

"Concussion. 602. Since when do you 
get called in for a psyche consult?"

"Since I volunteered my services in the--in 
your E.R.. Since when do you get called in 
for a concussion at, " Brent paused to glance 
at his Rolex, " 2 a.m.?"

"Since I left standing orders to be notified 
whenever any of my family members or 
close, personal friends come through the 
doors."

"Then...you'd be called in...for me?" his 
father tentatively inquired.

"Twice!" Kel assured him, with a wry 
smile, "You made BOTH lists!" The younger 
Dr. Brackett's smile broadened into a grin, 
and he disappeared behind the door to 
ICU Room 602.

Brent Brackett chuckled and then vanished 
next door, into 604.

----------------------------------------

Photos : No attachments.

****************************
From: 'Katherine Bird' <kathbird@hotmail.com>
Subject : [emergencytheaterlive] For Whom the Tome Tolls.
Date : Sunday, December 15th, 2002.    23:22:09  GMT

Roy and Chet beat the Engine to 213 Morrow
Drive and got out. They shed helmets
onto the squad's roof, knowing that they
wouldn't be needing them inside.

Chet was bouncing with more than just
professional urgency. Nervousness was
making him babble.
"I don't know what you think I can do
once we find him in there Roy. I'm not
a paramedic." Chet whined, taking drug, IV,
and the splint box from the side compartment
as they hastened to gather all they would
need.

Roy afforded him a wry look. "You
got two arms and know how to use a
resuscitator. That's all you need to know
if CPR's needed. I can handle the rest until 
the Engine gets here. It's been a half hour,
no doubt Johnny's replacement has
already reported in. He'll be coming with
the Ward and the gang, sitting in your spot."

"True enough. I wonder who was sent as
Johnny's replacement.."

DeSoto snatched up the defibrillator, short
02 case, the biophone and two hefty hand 
held flashlights.  He freed one hand long enough
to thumb his HT. "L.A., Squad 51. On scene."

"10-4, 51."

"L.A., what's Engine 51's ETA?"

Before L.A. could answer, Cap's sleepy
voice piped in over the open frequency, punctuated by
background sirens. Roy could hear gears shifting
at a rapid rate as the LaFrance wove through
the late night traffic. "Squad 51, our ETA is four
minutes!"Cap replied immediately.

"10-4, Engine 51." Roy said. ::Man, Mike must
be breaking all speed records to get here.::

Chet and Roy hurried to the front porch
landing with all of their equipment. The full moon
had settled over the trees, making the neatly
fire station gang weeded stone path, invisible, but
Roy and Chet already knew the front garden
sidewalk's curves by heart.

Kelly asked a question. "Just what
did the dispatcher tell you about this potentially
injured guy?" he panted, as Roy and he pushed
opened the front door with their hips and 
rushed into the main entrance hall. 

Chet could still see the wrappers they had left 
behind from Johnny's nasal cannula tubing Cap had 
used on him and from Marco's left over bandaging
on the oriental rug by the stone bench. 

Roy immediately got his bearings and started
running up the main staircase to the second floor
of the vast, dark Victorian mansion. They 
both returned to the library at the head of the stairs. 
"Chet, it went like this. Dispatch said Margaret, the lady
we found, is Fajou's sister and that it was she who 
called in last night's run on her husband, Norman.
Dispatch thought her nuts when she started yelling
about him being lost in a secret passage.."

"So that explains the mismatched gender on
the call; Man down, when we found a woman. "

"Yeah.." Roy said., hurrying even faster. 
 
Chet said. "She must've panicked,
trying to find him. Don't blame her. These are
number one grade A creepy surroundings, man."
If she freaked, she could've fallen and hit her
head easily."

"That's what I'm guessing." Roy said. 

Fireman and paramedic plunked down all of
their gear on the carpetting in the dark library
and both immediately went to the rows and
rows of ornate bookshelves, seeking out
one title that Gage had embedded into their
minds so urgently....

Unconsciously, they turned protectively back
to back to each other, and turned in place
eyeing the wall to wall book shelving all around
them with their flashlights. 

Chet whistled, "Man, where do we start?"

"Anywhere.."
Roy licked dry lips, but smiled when he heard
the sounds of Engine 51 approaching. He lifted
his HT. "Squad 51 to Engine 51. We're in
the library."

"10-4. There in one.." Stoker acknowledged.

Roy turned back to a twitchy Kelly. 
"Johnny said the title of the book that activated 
the passageway's door read,..The Mystery On 
Dobbin's Moor.."

Chet and Roy fell mute when thousands of books
met their sight. And most of them were almost
too dusty to read.

"And I promised myself I'd never come back
here.." Kelly said, "That's what I get for having an
overactive curiosity about this house. We'll never
find it in time, Roy.. Geez, the guy's been lying 
alone for hours. He might even be dead already."

"Yeah, well. Third time on a run to the same location's
always a charm. I prefer to think positively." Roy grunted.
"Now, let's start shedding some light here. Literally."

DeSoto jogged back to the door they entered and 
found a long velvet pull cord set into the ceiling. He
pulled it and electric lights in Victorian glass lamps
brightly illuminated the room. "Let's assume 
Johnny didn't climb that book ladder to find it, and
that he only looked at something at eye level. He 
was looking for his helmet that he had set down. So
it makes sense he wouldn't have been looking anywhere 
over our heads." he sighed. Then he paused, thinking...
"Chet, where exactly did we find Margaret on the floor,
I don't remember. I was too focused on making sure
she was still breathing to recall."

Chet shrugged and paced to the place. "Right about
here.." he gestured. "Next to the desk, like this.."
and he laid down on the floor to show Roy how she
had been positioned.

Roy place his feet next to where Chet's shoes
lay and turned, looking at the desk. He found
hand prints on the mirror and a blood stain where
Margaret's head had impacted its edging. "Her lump
was on the left occipitally, so she had to be 
facing this way.." Roy turned to his right, 
"...when she fell against the desk."

Chet got to his feet. "Look!" he shouted, aiming his
flashlight's beam. "A larger hand print!" he said pointing
it out on a dusty tome immediately next to the mirror. 
"That's got to be Johnny's. It still looks fresh."

Roy "It is..There's the title we've been looking for."
 
Roy's hand was just about to pull it when 51's engine 
crew and Paramedic Craig Brice rushed into the room 
loaded with wall cracking equipment.

Cap rushed to their sides. "Any luck yet?"

"Right here, Cap." Roy said. "We found the triggering
mechanism. Johnny said it was disguised as this fake
book here."

"All right, stand back." Captain Stanley ordered.
"If that bookshelf's opening mechanism malfunctioned
enough to shove Johnny down a flight of stairs, it'll 
still be malfunctioning. Be careful. Things like this usually
rotate on a counter weight balance."

Chet smirked, "Hey Cap, all the sudden you're
a haunted house secret passageway expert on
top of being a fire department captain?"

Stanley shot a look at Kelly. "Not even pretending,
Kelly. Just guessing here. I'm remembering the weird 
hidden revolving stone door we found in that 
winery basement fire last month. Remember 
that fire? Well I had a chance to talk with the restaurant 
designer we rescued about it all while I bandaged up 
burns he got on his hands trying to save that hundred
year old Cabernet Sauvignon wine bottle."

"Oh yeah. What a tragedy! A two thousand dollar
bottle of bino. Poof. Up in smoke." Marco said.

Mike said. "I remember him, a real
character. Didn't know whether I was talking
to Frank Lloyd Wright or Stephen King."

Craig Brice interrupted them. "Ah, gentleman.
We can talk about all this fascinating gothic
architecture and about the old wine later, hmm? 
We're here on a rescue call. 
I suggest we stick to the matters at hand. Our
victim is expecting us to save him with all due haste."

Chet sniped back, "Yeah? Well Cap flapping his
gums, Brice, is to make sure we don't 
end up dead before we can even get to the guy. 
Patience. Strange thing with you saying that, Brice,
you usually know paramedic protocol 
better than any of us. Remember rule number one? 
'First, secure the scene?' "

Craig didn't take offense. "Indeed. Proceed all. I'll
get the gear set up." He laid out an EKG monitor
onto the rug, quickly followed by the defibrillator case.

Cap said, "Ok, Marco, get that crow bar set.
Mike get ready to jam your roof axe into the hinge 
axel that'll expose itself once the bookshelf swings open.
That should hold things long enough for us to get 
Bentley out of there."

Roy pulled the pseudobook lever.

There was a groan of stone and a loud bang which
Chet recognized. "This is the right way.. 
I remember that sound!" 

He barely waited for Marco and Stoker
to wedge axe and crow bar into the brick wall
gears before plunging into the darkness of the stair 
well. 

Sure enough, his flashlight beam caught a
dim figure at the bottom of the landing. 

The gang all shoved into the narrow passageway.

Roy was quickly down the rock stairway, with 
all the others close on his heels. "Hey sir..! Can 
you hear me?"

Kelly butted in front of him and 
reached for the figure's neck.

A large spider jumped out from around the
man's hairline in a defensive leap, guarding
its territory.

"Ahhh!!"
Chet leaped backwards with a shout, crashing
into Roy, Stoker and Cap behind him, and 
all four fell onto their butts on the stone steps.

"Kelly do you mind?" Cap said.

"Sorry Cap. I.. guess I'm more than a little jumpy."

Roy was already at their victim's side, aiming
a flashlight towards his face. 
"Hey Cap, look at this. It's a wax work figure."

All four guys crowded around Roy and looked.

"A fake body." Cap sighed. "I should have known.
This house IS a working creepshow."

Chet had already overcome his fright. "Man, Johnny's
gonna be bummed he took a fall over a dummy."
and the guys laughed.

Then a low moan attracted their attention. Every
one of them shot their flashlight beams into 
the cobwebby room beyond the stair's landing.

Shushes abounded as everyone  strained to
hear more. Cap held up a glove for silence and he
shouted. "Norman Bentley! Shout if you can hear us!"

They were met with an eerie quiet.

"Ok, gang. Spread out. Search pattern. And stay
within eyesight at all times. This place is a deathtrap
to the uninitiated."

"Seems like even the caretakers were under informed."
Brice shouted from where he was listening to the gang
from where he was waiting in the library with an open
comm to Rampart.

"Unlucky them." Lopez groaned.

At the back of the room, another figure startled them,
a huge looming, silver form standing in their light beams.

"Well, I'll be d*mned." Kelly whispered. "There IS an iron
maiden in the basement."

Cap and Roy shot him a dirty look.

Another trickling moan met their ears, weaker 
than the last, followed by an echo which 
sounded like hollow metal pinging.

They all paused in their tracks trying to pin down 
a place that would cause a moan to sound like
that. "Maybe Norman found the Maiden, too." Lopez
said fearfully. "It's the only hollow thing down here."
 
Come on!" Kelly agreed.

All the firemen hastened to open the heavy wrought 
iron case. While they shouted for Norman to answer
them, the faint, low moaning stopped.  

It was almost a full two minutes more before the 
firemen figured out the tricky old device's release 
latches and freed their victim.

Out tumbled an older man bonelessly, comatose 
and dusky blue. "Mr. Bentley?" Roy said, catching 
him. 

They set him on the stone floor and DeSoto quickly
grabbed his head and listened carefully over his 
nose and mouth after tipping his chin back.

"Move it guys. He's quit breathing.." Roy said 
and he firmly began mouth to mouth. 

Mike Stoker began opening the man's shirt hastily
for CPR.

Chet rushed to the foot of the stairs and shouted.
"Hey Brice! Toss down the resuscitator. On the double!"

Craig did so, and Kelly caught the case as deftly as a 
basketball. He rushed back and together, Mike and
Chet got the unit turned on. They both swiftly fitted 
the tubing and the moulded face piece into place. 

Roy tilted back Norman's head further on his
next breath, until a better airway was secured.
Then he set the positive pressure mask Kelly 
handed him over the suffocated man's face, 
and sent a set of rapid ventilations of pure 
O2 deep into Norman's chest with the thumb 
trigger. 

Roy's free fingers found a beat just under the 
man's jawline. He waved Mike off from his 
hands-on-waiting for-word-to-go CPR position. 
"Stoker, it's ok. He's still got a pulse.." he told 
him. "It's weak, but there."

All the gang sighed and relaxed just a bit.
 
After only a minute more supported O2, 
the very lucky Norman roused and began 
coughing. 

He weakily shoved the ventilation mask 
away with a confused mumble.

Cap attempted to get the groggy man's attention.
"Mr. Bentley? It's ok. We're with the L.A. County Fire 
Department, we got a call from your wife that 
you were lost down here. How are you feeling?" 

Norman's eyes blearily made out Roy and all the gang's
faces. "Oh my, never.. shoulda gone exploring..Ohhh..
That d*mned thing trapped me..." he said with a grimace
towards the Iron Maiden that had entombed him for a day.

"How did you ever get in there?" Cap wanted to know.

Kelly helped the man sit against the Maiden to ease
his breathing a little more, at Roy's unspoken nod to do
so.

"Oh, I've got a headache that won't quit.."
Norman groaned and gratefully took the mask Roy 
still held against his nose and mouth. He inhaled in 
a few more shots of oxygen, then blinked his eyes 
as clarity came slowly back. It arrived along 
with a healthy sense of self consciousness the 
more Norman thought about where he was 
and what had happened to him. Finally, he sighed,
answering the tall fire department captain.
"I....wanted to know what it was like being 
inside one of them. Stupid really. Didn't 
know there was no handle on the inside."

Chet sighed. "No kidding.. Didn't think a torturing device
would have one."

Marco smacked Chet on the arm to keep him quiet.

Cap sighed, rubbing his sleep mussed hair and said,
"Well live and learn from this, Norman. 
Looks like no lasting harm done. But sir, I'm 
afraid we've got some off news about your wife. 
She .. well,...panicked a bit when she didn't hear 
you answer her calling your name and slipped 
a bit, upstairs."

"Is Maggie ok?" Norman gasped. "Is she here? 
Oh my goodness.."

"She's fine, sir. Relax. She's just getting an ice
pack for her head at Rampart Emergency, most likely,
and a few precautionary X-rays. We'll be bringing 
you to where she is in a few minutes." Cap said.

"Oh, bother.. Glad she's all right. Thank you boys,
for looking out for her," he sighed, "and me for that
matter.." and took another pull off the mask, saying 
more. "Margaret doesn't have the same sense 
of adventure I do about her brother's house. 
Me, I'm like a kid turned loose in a candy store.." 
and he started laughing to the point of coughing.

"Easy.." Roy said, "Just keep using this oxygen here. 
I'm afraid you're still as gray as she is...." he quipped, 
patting the Iron Maiden next to them. 
 
That only brought more laughter from Norman
and he rapidly improved colorwise soon
there after. 

Chet and Cap had already ruled out the need for
a stokes. Roy agreed with them and he finished
putting away the positive pressure valve, trading it 
for a cannula. "Feel well enough to stand, Norman? " 
Roy asked him. "We've got another paramedic with 
all of our equipment up the stairs here. If you'd let us, 
we'd like to check ya out to make sure you 
didn't come to any permanent harm."
Roy asked him.

"You're so nice, all of you men. And for
coming all the way over here just to get
me out of my bind." he said. "Yes. I do believe
I can. " and he let himself be raised and 
supported between Stoker and Marco until he
regained shaky feet. "Say fellas, when you
were searching for me, did you spot Reggie's
wetbar?  I'm awful thirsty from being 
cramped in there all night. A brandy would 
really hit the spot right about now..."

"Amen to that sir." Chet nodded animatedly.

Cap glared at Kelly. "Just go get the gear, Kelly.
We're going upstairs."

Roy quickly diverted Mr. Bentley from the
jibbing Captain Stanley to Chet Kelly exchange.
"Let's just start with a glass of water from
the kitchen, all right? " Roy told him with
a grin. "And maybe we'll be asked to get
an IV or two going a bit later.." he said 
thoughtfully.

"An IV? What's that? Anything like a V-O?"
Mr. Bentley asked with an innocent curiosity.
"I know about those, Margaret says Reginald 
likes to drink them while he bakes things in the
kitchen."

Roy grinned and then began explaining in 
detail about what would go on with Norman 
and his prehospital care and about what the 
doctor on the other end of the biophone 
would probably order, as they all slowly 
made their way up the slate gray stones, step
by step.

On the way, and last in line, 
Chet snatched up Gage's helmet after making 
very sure no new spiders were calling it home.  

He was still unnerved by the bug he
had seen and Norman's close call, but 
his sense of humor was still completely 
intact. So was his keen entrepeneurial instinct
that always seemed to pop up after a crisis.
"Say, Mr. Bentley. Did you know you could probably
make a fortune opening up this place to school kids
around Halloween time? You three might make 
even more money then, in one month,
than you do right now giving the studios kids 
THEIR tours, all year. Reggie would still be 
able to hand out his gingerbread cookies anytime 
he feels like it. And I'm sure the guys here with me 
would love to help out this fall in costumes or
something, too."

Marco and Mike began to shake their heads
vehemently out of Norman's eyeshot but stopped
immediately when the old man noticed them 
doing something beyond helping him climb steps. 

Chet got braver as the gem of his idea, blossomed
in the wake of his spider fright. 
"Yeah, now that I think about it, my Cap would
make a GREAT Frankenstein."

"Really?" Norman chirped up, fiddling with the
cannula that had been set around his face 
as he let his rescuers sit him into a 
leather library recliner by a roaring fireplace 
that had somehow, mysteriously, lit itself.

Chet said sotto voce. 
"Oh yeah, sir. I know because he's a 
regular holy terror whenever he goes without 
sleep or when any station wide inspection 
date rolls around."

Kelly never saw the boot Cap connected with his
rear, sending him out the library door in an 
unsubtle hint to tell the ambulance attendants 
where to rendevous with them all.

-----------------------------------------------------
 
A week later, the gang sat around the 
kitchen table eating lunch, without much 
gusto.

Even Mike looked quieter than usual. 

Marco finally piped up, breaking the soft sounds
that all their forks were making as they each
half heartedly played with their food. 
"Man, I'm really going to miss the little guy."

"Yeah. And we just got the paint to dry on old
Henry's dog house too." Mike Stoker agreed.

Stoker and Lopez both let out matching sighs.

Captain Stanley narrowed his eyes at his men
from around his chilidog as he bit into it. He
chewed loudly and without apology.
"Come off it you two. You saw the way Reggie,
Maggie and Norman's eyes lit up when they saw
Chester Bartholomew run up to them when they
came here to give us all gingerbread cookies to
thank us for all we've done. It was
like twenty years of loneliness just rolled 
right off their shoulders. What else could I have
done?"

Chet groused. "You couldn't've found them 
another puppy?"

"As if I could've right at that moment, Kelly. 
Hush, and eat your food before it gets cold."

Another two minutes of no one chewing, 
stretched intolerably. 

Cap cleared his throat and addressed his depressed
crew, "Now, Come on gang. We just all have to 
get used to having a station without a mascot again. 
Won't be hard. Not at all. I mean we..we..we 
managed to survive after Henry left. Right?"

Everyone grudgingly agreed, until a voice rang out.

"Barely. We didn't sleep for a week.
Remember?" Chet insisted morosely. "I don't know about
you, Cap. But I missed him terribly. All but broke my heart.
Sort of like ..." and he lowered his voice.." the way..
I feel...." and he took a bite of biscuit to hide
what he was feeling."....right ...now..about Chester."

Captain Stanley shifted in his chair uncomfortably.
"Yeah, well, Kelly. uh... I know it's tough. It's rough
on all of us.. But, consider our giving Chester 
away a good deed and let's leave it at that."

Roy regarded Chet with a calm encouraging grin.
"He's right Chet. Just think how happy Chester will
be when he can play with all the school kids 
everyday when they come to visit Mr. Fajou
and the Bentleys to get their gingerbread cookies." 

His grin fell away when Chet's paper didn't stop
separating Kelly from the rest of those around the
kitchen table.

Gage loudly coughed, getting everyone's attention.
He wore a very serious face as he said.
"I still think you made a horrible mistake Cap. I 
really think that you must've .." and his face lit up 
with laughter."...given away the wrong Chester B, 
 You should've given them Kelly here and saved 
us a whole lotta future grief." Johnny joked. 

"Very funny Gage." Chet said, finally taking some 
bait. "I'll remember that the next time you 
get lost and your buns are roasting in a 
hot fire and I'm the one sent to look for ya."

The gang chuckled, thinking they were finally
lifting away the dark cloud hanging over Kelly's
head.

Even Cap finally got up out of his chair and 
strode over to Henry's old dog house and he 
patted its newly restored paint job. "Listen 
gang...uh, despite what I've decided here, 
it doesn't mean we can't keep our eye out, 
you know, from looking for the next stray 
to come along. Am I right? 
Heck. We see tons of em every fire. "

Gage was still frowning because it had finally sunk 
in that his attempt at humor had actually failed to 
get Chet out of his pity pit. "Yeah, Cap. 
That's... that's a really good idea. We'll uh, just,
we'll just go about our business and wait for 
another dog or something to come to us."

"Exactly Gage.. " Cap agreed. "My guess is the 
next dog to land at Station 51 will do it OUT of 
a baby basket and without any mysterious note 
attached around his neck."

"Here. here." Johnny piped up in a toast, raising
his mug of coffee. "To Chester Bartholomew.
Once a puppy lost, now a pup found, and living
it up in the coolest house a dog could ever wish for,
the Morrow Drive Movie Mansion."

The gang all joined in the toast whole 
heartedly, hooting a few whistles and cheers 
until Chet finally raised his mug, too.

Everyone pretended not to see the water 
glistening in Chet Kelly's eyes as he looked for 
the millionth time at a photo of Chester 
Bartholomew that he had carried in his uniform 
pocket ever since the first day the tiny beagle pup 
had arrived on the kitchen doorstep, as they drank
in the little dog's honor.

As if by magic, a box of tissue suddenly 
appeared out of nowhere, shoving 
underneath the funnies Chet was only 
pretending to read.

------------------------------------------------

Dixie McCall watched the three well dressed
diners surrounding her at a Manny's Fine Dining 
white topped table, and smiled.

Her wildest long time wish, had finally
come true at last.

Kel Brackett sat with his mother and his father,
all together, at one table.

Dixie grinned even bigger.
::It's been three hours. And the sparks still
aren't flying. You know, sometimes
I amaze even myself. Maybe I should 
study to become a doctor AND a psychologist, 
just to make it official someday:: she considered.

Dixie sipped her Amaretto sour and studied her
friends' faces as they shared their life
stories of the past ten years with other, in 
full, heartfelt, gritty detail. But Dixie felt she
didn't even need to listen. It was enough just
to be there.
 ::Nah..:: she thought about her future
career plans once more.  ::Why should I even bother? 
I get to enjoy the rewards of doing that kind of work 
right now. No muss, ...no fuss. And what I'm witnessing
right now is a fine, fine example of the power
of human reconciliation at its very best.::

Dixie was absolutely sure that Joe Early 
next to her was revelling too, in the fact 
that not once through the entire nine 
course dinner, had Kel Brackett's anxiety tied
face twitch, revealed itself.

::Yeah. Somedays I really love my job.:: Dixie
mused once again. :: I couldn't be any happier,
I think ever, ...than I am.....right ........now..::

Wordlessly, she clinked her drink with Joe's as
they both continued to be inadvertantly
ignored by their close companions.
 
Pleased as punch, Dixie McCall and Joe Early
both tuned back into the animated dinner 
conversation going on around them and 
nurse and doctor both, privately went on 
celebrating and watching with both eyes as
the old Brackett family circle remade
itself into something .... finally and truly,
everlasting.

-----------------------------

Photo :  Cap and John wearing helmets
             looking worried.

Photo : Chet in turnout, with an axe.

Photo : A creepy house.

Photo: Roy with an unconscious man in a dirty
           setting.

Photo : Dixie out of uniform in street clothes.

Photo : A tiny beagle pup, running in play.

Photo : Station 51, in daylight under blue skies.

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

           FIN  

 FATHER AND SON

    :) This Episode is Dedicated to Dee Dee Sullivan
    :) Who Is Healing from a Lumbar CNS Injury   :) 

@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@

  The Story Unfolds...

Season One, Episode Three..  

Juxtaposition

 
*********************************
From:  Fran Catrair <franniecat@voyagerliveaction.com> 
Date:  Sun Dec 15, 2002  11:57 pm
Subject:  Rainy Days and Mondays

 It was a dreary, gray day in 
Southern California, with a hint of 
rain in the air. It was the kind of 
day that made the quiet Roy DeSoto 
even more reserved than normal, and 
he sighed in melancholy, not touching 
his breakfast.

His partner looked up at the sound 
and noticed his partner's troubled 
expression. The engine crew had left 
earlier on a call, but Cap had just 
radioed in, saying they would be back 
at the stationhouse shortly. For the 
moment, though, they had the place to 
themselves.

"What's wrong, Roy?" Johnny asked 
his dour partner. ::Like he's going 
to tell me.:: Johnny thought grimly. 
It had been like pulling teeth just to 
find out when Roy's birthday was. He 
had even asked Cap to pull a few strings 
at personnel for the information, but 
Cap had refused, saying if Johnny wanted 
to know when Roy's birthday was so badly, 
he should find out for himself.

Roy continued skating his fork around 
his plate, the sausage attached causing a 
nice track in the maple syrup left on his 
plate from his now just eaten pancakes. 
"Nothing, Johnny. Just thinking." Roy 
responded absently. 

::Why am I NOT surprised?:: Johnny 
thought to himself in exasperation. He 
was about to try another tact when the 
station alarm klaxon sounded. Both men 
got up from the table quickly, sparing a 
moment to look at each other in concern. 
The longer klaxon meant the situation was 
not good. 

##Squad 51...Engine 51...Batallion 8...
overturned schoolbus....715 Dorchester 
Blvd...seven-one-five Dorchester Blvd...
Cross street Hamilton...Time out...0827."

Johnny quickly jotted the information 
down on a piece of paper and reached for 
the station mic. ##Squad 51...KMG365.## 
he acknowledged. 

Johnny immediately sprinted to the 
awaiting squad. As the garage door 
opened, both men looked out to see the 
cloudy morning had turned into a downpour. 
Grimly, Roy turned on the windshield wipers. 
As the squad left the dry stationhouse, he 
sighed again and said, "I hate rainy days...
and Mondays!"
-----------------------------------------------
Photo: The Gang hanging around the apparatus
            bay by the squad.

Photo :  The Intercom Speaker announcing a rescue.

*animated gif *  :  A flashing rack of red and white vehicle
                             rescue lights.

*********************************
From :  "Fran Catrair" <taleaone@hotmail.com>  
Subject : [EmergencyTheaterLive] Mudslide  
Date : Thu, 19 Dec 2002 02:06:39 -0600  
 

Johnny wordlessly looked out the window 
at the rain coming down around him.  He 
glanced at his partner's grim expression 
and sighed quietly, looking back out the 
window.  He was trying to think what Roy 
might be thinking.  ::Kids okay...fight with 
Joanne?:: he wondered.  Well, nothing 
he could do about it until after the call.

The squad's sirens continued to wail and 
Roy's face was almost unreadable. Until 
Cap's voice came out over the Station 
frequency. ##L.A., This is Engine 51. Is it 
known how many casualties might be 
involved?"##

"Roy, what's the matter?" 

"Hmm?" Roy replied, still listening to the 
exchange between dispatch and their 
captain going over their radio.

The rain came down harder, making 
the road flood. Roy was forced to slow 
down and so did the engine behind them.

"What is it, Roy?", Johnny asked, more 
firmly this time.  

Roy sighed and voiced 
his long held thoughts.  "I've been 
having a feeling something bad was 
going to happen today.  Just a feeling.  
My son was going to the Musuem 
of Natural History for a field trip today.  
They were to leave immediately this 
morning.", Roy finished, his voice 
shaky and tapering slightly.

Johnny was stunned by the news.  "Maybe 
it's not their bus, Roy.  I mean, how 
many schools must be having field trips 
today?", he said, trying to take his 
partner's mind off the worst.

"It's them," Roy said, quietly.  
"It's them."

Sam's voice came over the radio.  
#Engine 51...casualties unknown at 
this time.  CHP is on the scene.#

Caps' voice came very fast. ##10-4, 
L.A. Our ETA is..... four minutes..##

Roy skidded a little too fast around a 
turn and the squad shimmied around 
a corner and almost fishtailed before 
he regained control.

John said. "Want me to drive? We 
can radio in to the Engine.. Tell em 
why.."

Roy looked firmly at John and shook 
his head vehemently.  His face screwed 
up in concentration, as he willed the 
squad to go on.  At last, they could 
see the scene in the distance.

The yellow Blue Bird cab was fully on 
its side and along the margin. The front 
end was buried deeply in slag from 
the rain soaked hillside. 

"Mudslide!!" Johnny said. "Roy.. can 
you tell. Is it the same bus?"

"I don't know. I don't know...." Roy 
said.

Cap's voice filtered firmly into them as 
they pulled just behind the rear of the 
bus, pulling up so the squad was acting as 
a buffering obstacle between the bus
and oncoming traffic.

##Squad 51. Stay right where you are. 
And enter the scene from there. Stoker 
pull ahead to the car and those power 
lines. Looks like they're down. L.A. Cut 
power to the north side of the freeway 
overpass at mile marker seventy four!##

A fierce bolt of lightning shot down from
the dim sky and the rain came down in torrents
as Johnny and Roy ran out of the squad's 
cab for their gear and extrication equipment.

They ran for the nearest thing they could see,
the back of the bus and the emergency exit
there. 

##10-4, 51.##, dispatch responded.

Johnny and Roy could see the bus was 
rocking slightly.  They knew with the rain 
coming down and the mud, the bus could 
be buried deeper, and rapidly.  They 
needed to act fast.

"Cap, we're gonna need the K-12.. 
Looks like the rear hatch is jammed in 
here real good!" Roy said. He desperately 
tried to wipe away the mud and steam 
on the windows, but he could see 
nothing of the interior. 

Johnny began shouting. "Can anybody 
hear me?! Fire department!!"

Weak high pitched screams met their ears 
and a bloody palm impacted the window 
right by Johnny's face.. ::Oh my G*d.::

Right next to him, Roy flinched.

Roy was trying to clear away the debris from 
the hatch to place the K-12 when he saw it.  
Number 62.  He looked at Johnny.  
"Number 62.  It's his bus.", he said.

Finally, Chet and Marco arrived with the 
K-12.  They observed the tenseness of both 
paramedics.

"What's going on?" Chet demanded.

"Ohmyg*d, Johnny..".. Roy gasped. 
"I can't do this.." and he nearly fell to
his knees.

Gage got on his HT. ##Cap! Stoker. 
On the double! We need man 
power now. Roy's kid is here!##

Chet opened his mouth and closed it, 
shocked.  He and Marco quickly took 
the K-12 to the rear hatch.  Both men 
had a look of determination on their 
faces.  This rescue had become personal.

Captain Stanley ran, slipped and skidded
in the mud until he grabbed the side of
the bus to steady himself. "Gage, take over 
primary care triage. Roy, stay out here. And
that's an order!"

Right then, the roar of water from a storm 
drain caved in a part of the road underneath 
the toppled bus and its side split open like 
a tin can, spilling a tiny body in a girl's skirt,
onto the road and into the drain in a rush.....

Gage made a leap for the tiny feet but 
wasn't fast enough. Cap grabbed him first and 
said, "No!! Get a life line first! Now.. 
We don't know how deep it is in there!"

DeSoto ran for the squad to get one.

Roy sprinted to the right compartment, 
slipping and trying desperately to stay 
on his feet. Then he slid back to the back 
of the bus, wordlessly thrusting the lifelines at
Cap and Johnny and tying one onto himself.

"Oh no! No!"  Roy said, when the feet 
slipped again just as he grabbed for them. 
The tiny body disappeared in a rage of 
flooding brown water and was gone.

Johnny grabbed Roy's lifeline and secured it, 
proceeding back to the bus area.  "Roy,
there's nothing we can do! Get up! She's
dead.."

---------


Gage approached the bus.  Chet and Marco 
were beginning to check the victims closest 
to them.  They knew they would need to 
free them first, but they needed to be 
sure it would be safe to move them.

Chet shouted. "Johnny. I got a probable skull
fracture here. I got bleeding in the ears on this
one.." he said, looking up, with a hand on the 
small boy's stomach.

Marco was speaking quietly with five others,
telling them to hurry out to Cap who was
gesturing to them. "Go to the tall man over
there. He'll take care of you.." 

----------------------------------------

Photo : Cap looking tense in helmet closeup.

Photo : Johnny in a storm drain with a child.

Photo : Roy and Johnny in full turnout by
            the engine.

*******************************
From : "Cassidy Meyers" <killashandrarey@hotmail.com>  
Subject : Every Parent's Nightmare...  
Date : Fri, 27 Dec 2002 21:09:34 +0400  

Captain Stanley had one eye on the kids Lopez
had directed to him, the other, on Roy. "That's it.
Come on out of the bus. Don't worry about fire.
It's raining good out here..There's no way things
are gonna burn." his voice said gently to
them as he took them one by one by the arms
and lifted them from the wreckage. When the last
walking little girl was taken by a CHP, Cap turned to
his HT. ##L.A. This is Engine 51. Respond a full landslide
detail to our scene. The freeway's in danger of a mud
avalanche.##

##10-4, 51.## and Cap sighed as he heard dispatch
call out the run also to Station 10 and 114. He turned his
attention to the long board Chet had laid out by
his head injury's side and helped Lopez and Kelly
secure and free the boy from his place underneath
the seats.

Gage was already hyper paramedic mode. Only the
slightest stress in his tone gave away the fear he
felt still having Roy's son, among those not yet found.
"Easy, Chet. Keep those sandbags on either side of his
head. He's breathing fine. Hold it a sec, Just let
me get this peds airway in." Johnny looked up. "Cap!"

"Yeah.." Stanley said, peeking through the ripped side
of the upside down school bus over the rushing river
of muddy water running down the curbside of the
road. He didn't look at the sewer grate which had
cost the little girl, her life.

"This next one's gonna need O2. Have a man
hyperventilate him until I can get to him!" Johnny
gasped, ducking around metal shards and debris.

"You got it pal.." Cap said. He looked up at Roy as
two policemen in yellow rain gear took the tiny boy's
longboard and got him out of the bus. "Roy.. Take him."
he said, shaking the pouring rain off his helmet
so he could see where Marco Lopez and Chet Kelly were
working better.

"Huh?" Roy said, still dazed by his private nightmare.
In his head, his own voice was screaming.
::Chris? Where are you??! Ohmyg*d Chris! Be ok. Be ok! 
Johnny. You find him. Find him fast..:: he thought, but
out loud  . "Right.." he said. 
"Have him set over here, I'll take a look at him."

DeSoto got out a peds BP cuff and set it around Chet's
victim's arm. He got a palpated brachial pulse of sixty.
::Too slow.. D*mn.  Brain stem head injury..:: The tiny 
comatose boy's unequal and fixed and abnormal eyes 
and his soaring BP confirmed the finding. "Keep tabs on
his carotid, Ben." he told the CHP officer who knelt with
the resuscitator Cap handed him. "Ventilate him
30 a minute on 100 % O2, ok? Time it to work with
his inspirations."

"Got it.." the highway patrol officer said, setting
the tank's smaller fitted mask over the boy's nose 
and mouth. He began using the thumb trigger.

Roy got on the phone to Rampart.
"Rampart, this is squad 51. How do you read?"

His heart just about pounded out of his chest
when it was Dixie who answered. "Go ahead,
51. I read you loud and clear."

##Rampart. We have a multiple casualty situation. Car
versus school bus. Triage is underway. So far,
I've six victims. Five minor, one comatose.
Victim one, a boy of six or seven. Under supported
ventilation on 100 % O2. BP 142/110, pulse 60. 
Respirations, are in Cheynes Stokes pattern. He is 
immobilized with sandbags and a long board with an 
oral airway. There's no apparent trauma beyond 
a noticable depressed occipital softness at the base 
of his skull.##

Dixie wrote down Roy's vitals set and motioned for
Dr. Early to come into the radio room. "Joe, it's 51. 
Sounds like a real bad one. And something else too,
I've never heard Roy so uptight before."

"Oh?" Dr. Early toggled the intercom receiver. "51,
on victim one, start an IV D5W TKO only. Maintain an 
airway, elevate his head, and transport as soon as 
possible." Then he licked his lips and asked, 
"Roy, just how serious is your situation?"

Joe's question took Roy aback when he realized that
Dr. Early wasn't only referring to the boy they had stabilized.
The doctor was going outside of protocol. ::Because
he knows something's up..:: Roy reasoned mentally.

Roy replied. "You'll know the moment I do, doc. Wish
I could tell you more. All I know is that we don't know
a lot of details right now and there's at least one fatality."

Roy cringed when Mike Stoker ran up from the car that
had caused the accident and the downed power poles. His coat
wasn't even unbuttoned as it would have been had he found
someone alive and revivable. "DeSoto.." Mike called out.
"The victim in the car's a Code F. Looks like because of 
electrical shock. He's been down too long. Pupils are 
fixed and dilated and there's already lividity showing in 
his lower extremities."

"Got it, Stoker.." Roy said.  Then he turned back to
the phone. "Rampart, raise that number to two Code
F. Victim one's loading with Squad 10. I estimate their
ETA to you around ten minutes. Please stand by for
further victims.."

##Standing by.## Joe said.

---------------------------------

Roy saw the Mayfair recede into the distance through
the noisy rain down the highway and away from
the scene of mud and multilated metal. He tried not
to  imagine the little girl who had drown down the
drainage grate.

Inside the bus, the going was slow. Johnny felt bloody
neck after bloody neck and found no signs of life.
He gestured to Kelly. "Get those seats outta there.
Forget these six, they're gone."  Gage bent down
to worm his way along the soaked floor to the next
section of broken seats. More bodies and
pieces of bodies. Nightmarish.. Then...

"Uncle J-Johnny?"

Gage's heart skipped a beat. "Chris?! Where are ya?
Now don't move around. Just keep talkin to me.. Chet!
I found him.. Give me your HT! "

Kelly underhand tossed it to Gage like a pro.
Gage caught the heavy walkie talkie and thumbed it.
"Squad 51 to Engine 51. Got another survivor..
Hey Roy... Listenup..Ok, Chris.. Say something. 
Daddy's right outside." Gage said, handing the HT 
to the muddy blond headed boy
cradled against his shoulder.

"I'm here. I'm ok. Don't worry Daddy. Just get the
other kids out. I'm fine. Really.."

Outside, DeSoto let out a half sob of relief.
"Chris??" Roy said, he ran for the bus.

Cap stopped him. "Hey hey hey.. Now listen.
It's crowded enough with Kelly, Lopez and Gage
in there. You're needed out here for triage. Hang
tight, Roy. Things sound good to me.. and now
even better in there for them..."

Roy stopped fighting Cap's hold and sagged
against the bus's shell. Through a foggy window,
he could see many many body sheets. "ohmyg*d."

"I know.. I know.." Cap said, grasping Roy by the
face. "It's bad. That's why I didn't want you in there.
Now just stick with your HT and no doubt Johnny will
be letting you know how he is, ok? Hang tight and 
just wait here.."  Stanley strode away to intercept 
114 coming in, to direct them to deal with the 
mudslide risky hill that had already claimed part of the 
school bus.

Lopez shouted. "Hey somebody.. I need help. I found
the school bus driver!"

Roy glanced around and saw Chet's caked shoes
deep in the seats and two sets of flashlights but
no one else handy. "I gotta do it.." Roy muttered
and ducked into the bus. Immediately two from Engine
10 took his place outside the tear in the side of the bus
to wait for orders for extrication equipment from
those working inside.

Roy's breath caught deep in his throat when the smell
of blood and things much worse reached his nose
from the tiny bodies Chet and Johnny had covered.
He began to fervently wish he had obeyed Cap's advice
to stay outside. He forced his lips to work. "Marco,
whatdiya got?"

"He's alive. Eviscerated partially. Looks like a piece
of the dash stabbed him and tore out afterwards.
Lower right quadrant. Also, this mud's caving in
on him. He's having a lot of trouble breathing."

Lopez ducked as another gush of mud and branches
from the hill slid through the shattered bus windshield
and onto the driver's lap. He used his hands to
scrape away the stuff from the man's nose and mouth
and he bent close down to make sure air still moved
effectively there.

Roy never got to see the wound Lopez spoke of.
It was buried in mud instantly. He shouted over his
shoulder and set his HT near his ear on an overturned
seat back. "You guys, on the double. Shovels
and a scoop stokes. This hill's gonna go!"

Roy listened closely to Johnny's heavy gasps
and grunts as he and Chet maneuvered nearer to Chris
through the tangle of shorn off seats even as
his own hands assessed the driver. "We've got to get him
out  fast..Now. Long board or no long board. 
Marco..watch his airway!"

"I know.. This mud's crushing him.."

"Just keep him breathing.. even if he quits.."
Roy said, leaning over to try and dig the muck away
from the driver's lower half with only his gloved
hands. The mud flowed in faster than he could push
it away.

Marco groaned in frustration and renewed his jaw lift on 
the unconscious man with one hand and felt
his chest with the other. "So far so good. He's still
here."

Roy continued to free the driver.
------------------------------------------------
Chet Kelly put on his best smile.

It didn't fool Chris. Something was filling all of
his thoughts beyond getting out to Roy.
"Uncle Johnny. I tried.. I tried so hard.. Ahh!" he 
grimaced, when Gage's questing hands found 
where his leg was pinned in a knot of
seat. "Yeah, Uncle Johnny, right there. My knee I think. 
But listen to me.. ugh.. I tried so
hard, I really tried keeping her awake with stories,
but Carrie got quiet on me."

"Who's Carrie?" Johnny said, "Easy, lie back down.." 

"S-She's right over..t.."  Chris tried to point but
couldn't quite remember where his seatmate was
trapped. He started to sob as a frightening memory
resurfaced. 
"I- I couldn't reach her when she stopped breathing,
Mr. Kelly.."

"Where is she?!" Chet asked urgently. 

Chris's tear filled eyes were blurred and his panic barely
veiled as an odd maturity for a boy his age took over.
"Right there.. She stopped making noises 
just before you got here. She's right under your arm,
Mr. Kelly, underneath that cushion.."

Kelly heaved a heavy seat cover away
from where Chris's shaky hand was pointing.

A tiny girl in pink lay twisted underneath it, but her
face was blue. Gage startled. "Kelly?"

Chet crawled out of Johnny's eyesight to
get close to the girl's body.
"Got her.." Johnny heard and soon there after, sounds
of rescue breathing began. Gage sighed in double 
sympathy when those sounds were separated with 
pauses for cardiopulmonary compressions. 

"Keep working her, Chet.. I'll be right there." Johnny said.
"Here.. See if she's reactive..." Johnny said and he rolled
his penlight through the narrow space between them.

Chet snatched up the light and a few seconds later said.
"Good going Chris.. She's got responsive eyes. We might be
able to bring ..........her back.."

"Heh.. " the DeSoto boy smiled. "Dad taught me a few
things about first aid. Like to try and keep a head bumped
kid conscious... But why didn't it w-work for..Car- 
didn't work for..."

John noticed Chris's head beginning to sag. "Chris. Where else
do you hurt besides that knee.. Chris?.."

But Chris went out and went very pale. Gage kept a grip
on his partner's son's arm artery. ::Fast heart rate.
Now what's causing this blackout?::

Johnny yanked a stubborn seat frame out of the way
and found a deep cut in Chris's thigh. He pulled off
his pants belt and made a tourniquet out of it, glancing
at his watch for the time he began its constricting lack
of blood flow. Then he made sure Chris was stable 
enough to be left alone.

He spoke into his walkie talkie. "Cap. We gotta move.
We've got a little girl in witnessed cardiac arrest and
a leg bleeder." Johnny amended his transmission.
"..who's stable.. " he added for Roy's benefit.

Then he slid over near Chet to help him try to revive
the girl. "You take her head. I got it here.." he said,
taking over Kelly's one arm CPR for him.

Chet looked up in between delivering breaths. "How is he?"

"Fine. Just stressed. His leg's pinned and he's got
a deep laceration on the thigh. Venous hemorrhaging
only, thank g*d. Whatya find on Carrie?" Gage grunted
as he worked.

"Her pupils constricted right off, both of them.
Equally."

"Good, a little epi will..."

"Here..." came a new voice from over their heads.

Roy DeSoto was crawling over the seats with a
one CC epinephrine syringe in between his teeth.

"Roy! What are ya doing in here? Cap told you t-"

"Shut up junior, and let me at one of her arms." Roy
said, grinning. "If this doesn't work, Cap's got the
defib on eighty watts outside."

Gage kept up his CPR wordlessly. Chet didn't stop
either with his ventilations.

Two seconds after Roy gave Carrie the injection,
the girl pinked up and started coughing. Gage 
flipped her over onto her side, as she spat
fluid and blood out of her mouth, murmuring 
encouragements.

Kelly stayed nearby and gratefully snatched the portable 
O2 another fireman handed him and began holding its mask 
over the restless girl's face while Gage calmed her down.

A herd of elephants couldn't keep Roy away and Johnny
grinned when Roy lifted the heavy piece of roofing between
him and Chris as if it were so much styrofoam. 
"He's fine, Roy.. Just shaky. It's just that leg. Constricting
band went on two minutes five ago.."

Roy watched as Chris's eyes opened at the slightest
touch of his fingers on his son's carotid pulse. "Chris?"

"Ummm?,....ugh....." then his full awareness returned.
"Dad.. How is she?"

"How's who? Mom? She doesn't know yet."

"No, Carrie."

"Oh, the little girl you found. Thanks to your help,
we got her back, she's even protesting getting 
moved a little." Roy said as Carrie made a fuss 
over being lifted into the scoop stokes for her 
evac out of the overturned school bus. "How are 
you doing?"

"Fair, I guess. I'm awake, aren't I?"

"Yep." Roy said. "You hang tight. " Roy said, covering
his son up with a snug blanket. He set a cannula
over his face and into place strictly for 
precautionary measures. "I got this on ya just.."

"..Just to prevent shock.. I know.." Chris said.

Roy ruffled his hair and kissed his forehead.
"Johnny and I will be nearby until we get 
that seat cut away from your leg. 
Nothing's broken. Just.."

"..cut... I know.. I felt it earlier before I started
worrying about Carrie.."

"Yeah.."

"Dad..."

"What..?"

"You can leave me now. I'm not bad off. You're
suppose to help the ones worse off first."

"But.."

"Dad.. Go. I'm not a triage priority..."

"Better listen to him Roy." Johnny smiled cockeyed
as he finished his sweep of the seats around them.
"Honorary Paramedic Christopher DeSoto knows
what he's talking about.."

That cracked a muddy smile onto Chris's face.

His father matched it with a smirk of his own.
"All right. Chris, hang onto this and HT me if you need
anything. I got Uncle Johnny's HT with me.."

"Deal.." Chris sighed. He set the heavy firefighter's
walkie talkie by his own head and tossed his head
at his father to hustle off. "I'll let the other firemen
know where ya are."

Gage grinned as he helped the other rescue team
move Carrie out for further treatment. He had heard
every word Roy and Chris said to one another.
::Well, looks like this scary run's got a softer side
after all..:: he thought.

--------------------------------------------

Outside, the rain resurged and only a minute
later the hillside gave up the ghost and fifteen tons
of rain slicked slurry bore down on the bus and
firemen working frantically to free the children
still trapped inside of it.

Cap's voice cracked out over Chris's and Roy's
HT. "Look out! Mudslide!"

--------------------------------------------

Photo : Cap helps Johnny rig an IV.

Photo : Johnny getting a stokes out of back of the squad.

Photo : .Roy at night, giving an epi shot.

Photo : Joe on the run intercom. 

Photo :  A kid trapped in a grill.

***********************************  
From:  Sam Iam <lafddispatcher@yahoo.com> 
Date:  Fri Dec 27, 2002  9:23 pm
Subject:  The Mud Wrestling Angel

Johnny and Chet looked up at the dripping windows
towards the roaring hill in terror. "Everybody, brace
yourselves!" came Cap's shout.

The four from Station 51 and the one from station ten
flung themselves into the open areas of the bus
away from the gaping rend in its side. Chet barely
hauled Marco behind a seat when a huge, shuddering 
force slammed into the bus and shoved it many 
meters out onto the road as mud and stone 
cascaded wetly in the rain from the canyon's wall.

Cap and those outside the bus were running.

"Back! Get back!"  He grabbed edges of the two stokes 
holding Carrie and the bus driver without stopping as 
police and firemen alike also snatched them up with 
all the medical gear they could save.

Captain Stanley and the two crews of Station Ten
and Station One Fourteen gasped as the rest of the hill
swallowed up the school bus as if it had never been
from where they ducked behind engines and heavy
dredging equipment.

The mudslide stopped at the freeway divider 
and quieted and ironically, the rain stopped, leaving
pallid warm fog behind.

Cap's HT immediately went to his mouth. "Engine 51 to
Triage Ten and Squad 51. Do you read me?"

There was no reply.

He repeated his hail.

Still he received only static.

"Stoker! Tell Excavation Five to get over here! It'll take
at least three bulldozers to get in there. Move!"

Cap saw Mike Stoker's helmeted form skid in
the muck on the road on his side of the slide towards
the construction flatbed semi trucks just pulling up in 
response to the landslide call which had come in
earlier from L.A. headquarters.

Cap nodded in satisfaction when he saw those city 
men hustle faster when Stoker told them a bus with 
trapped kids and firemen lay beneath the pile of hillside.

He again hit his call button. "Engine 51 to Triage Ten
and Squad 51. Come in......" 

---------------------------------------------------

There were sounds of dripping in the blackness.
Roy felt a small gush of warmth brush his cheek.  
::That's breathing.:: "Chris?!"  Roy winced when he found
he couldn't move due to mud pinning him up to the waist
and his head lay on something hard near Chris's
chest. 

His voice echoed down the hollow, still bus and into pitch
inky blackness and total silence.  Roy's heard the hiss of
the 02 over his son's face and felt his reassuring pulse  
under his fingers. "Chris.. Can you hear me?"

Chris stayed quiet and didn't move. Then Roy remembered 
where he was, "Johnny? Chet?! Marco? "  

He heard a movement and a strange fireman's voice 
came near. "Easy man. I'm looking for your friends. 
Don't move. You were out for a while and it
looks like the whole d*mned hill came down on top of us. 
I made sure your boy was fine when I realized you were 
ok."

It was so dark, Roy's retinas were flashing unreal afterimages,
making him blink. "You're from ten's..?" 

"Yeah.." came the big man's chuckle. "I'm Detello, seven year 
engine crew lieutenant. I covered your butt when you went 
against your captain's orders and climbed in here. I said 
you were needed to stabilize the driver."

"I WAS needed to stabilize him. Marco and I barely got him
out of there before the front end was buried."

"I know that. Listen, DeSoto. See if that HT is still near your
boy's head. They're probably worried sick out there about us."

Roy felt as far as he could reach in the dripping ooze while 
the intense blackness made his eyes bug out uselessly 
in an attempt to see anything visually.
"It's gone.."

"Ah, well, I'll just keep crawling around over here where I saw
your buddies last..." came the calm quiet voice.. "Say,
gimme your penlight from your pocket, Roy.."

Roy felt it and handed it out until he felt the other man's
glove grope around to intercept it. "Why didn't I think of that?"
he said, setting his head down into the mud and back onto
the helmet Detello had placed there while he had been out
cold.

"You're excused, DeSoto, being you're still 
locked in Dad's nightmare numero uno, first class. 
If I were in your shoes, I don't think I'd react as well 
as you are knowing my kid was in here. 
My hat's off to you.."

"I can feel that..Thanks for the pillow." he quipped.
Roy winced as he saw a slimy form suddenly appear in
a nimbus of light surrounded by shadows which lurched
eerily in contrast, against equally slimy walls. Roy saw
six inches of mud on the floor and it was slowly rising. 
He lifted Chris's unconscious head onto his shoulder.
"Any sign of em?"

"Not yet.." came Detello's calm reply. "We could
have been separated from your partner, Lopez
and Kelly easily. The cave in has collapsed the "roof" here."
Detello rapped a piece of metal on a barrier
in front of him. Three taps.

Immediately, Roy heard muffled shouts and struggles.
"H..u..r..r..y  i..t.. u..p,...m....a...n. It's g..e..t..t..i..n..g
s..t..u..f..f..y  i..n  h..e..r..e.." came Gage's voice.

"Hang on.. Let me put a shoulder into it.." Detello
shouted. Roy saw his penlight go into Detello's mouth
and saw it being held switched on with his tongue
while the big man muscled the metal to one side. Johnny's
muddy face, lacking a helmet, met nose to nose, with Detello. 
He, too, had a penlight in his mouth that was lit.

"Roy? You ok?" Johnny said, glancing over, and gasping.

"Yeah. Any sign of Kelly or Lopez?"

"Chet's moaning over by my feet.
Don't know where Marco is.." Gage said.
"Man, it's getting even deeper in here.." he
exclaimed, keeping his head and chin out of the
rising chilling mud.

"I know.." Detello said. "If there's any more kids
in here we missed..." He didn't finish his sentence.
"Listen, Gage, you trapped too?"

"Nah, I'm just wedged in here. I can usually get outta
any nook and cranny. Just...uummgghhh..gimme a sec .." 
and he grunted. "On second thought. Gimme some leverage.."
and he let Detello pull him out of the crevice he had taken 
refuge within. 

Johnny immediately removed his overcoat in the 
more open space above Roy and Chris and turned 
right around and entered head first into the hole 
he had just left. "Chet! I'm free. Gimme
your hands.."

"...w....h....a....t..?" came Kelly's muffled reply.

"Gimme your hands. I'm getting you outta there!
We gotta go find Marco.. And if you see my talkie
in there on your way, grab it!"

"R...o..y....o.k...?  A...n..d.. h...i..s  k...i..d..?"

"Yeah, they're fine. But they aren't gonna be
if we dawdle. We're getting buried in mud out here.
Come on.." Johnny said crankily.
"These penlight batteries aren't gonna last long."

"N..o...p..r.o..b..l..e..m...G..a..g..e.   I   g..o..t....a...
f..l..a..s..h..l..i..g..h..t..."

Johnny mumbled to Detello and Roy.
"Lucky ain't he? He's got a fl.." and he grunted
when Chet grasped his hand and as Detello pulled
Johnny by the waist in the opposite direction
for Kelly's leverage.

Kelly popped out of the slimy hole without his
helmet. "Whoo, man.. the air was running out
in there."

"Yeah well just try and conserve some of it.
We're sealed off in here."

"Got that covered too. " Kelly said sitting up
in a pool of mud, wiping off the flashlight on a dry
spot on his pants. He switched it on to search
for Marco. And then reached back into the hole 
and pulled out a second portable O2 he had found 
in the wreckage. "Thanks for bringing this in with ya,
man.." he nodded to Station Ten's man.

"It's Detello, Kelly. Glad I could oblige."

"Your wreck bud get out ok?" Chet asked.

"Johnson? Yeah, he went out with Carrie."
Then the big curly haired fireman met Johnny's
eyes. "DeSoto's fine Gage. Just blacked out 
for a while. His kid's still stable.
Bleeding's stopped so I loosened that tourniquet
completely before I went looking for you."

"Smart thinking." Johnny took in a breath of
oxygen off the mask from the tank Chet 
had retrieved. "Now, where does everybody 
remember Marco being when the hill 
fell down on top of us?"

Kelly's ears strained in the darkness around the
dim circle of muddy light the meager flashlight offered
from its cracked lens. "Shh.shhh.. I think I hear
something.."

Wet slurping sounds from the "roof" glopped onto
the silent seats around them. The white covered
children's bodies could no longer be seen.

"Chet, you're hearing things.."

"Gage just ..pipe down a minute. You probably
still got mud in your ears.. Listen.. What I heard
came from behind you, from where the big
rip in the side of the bus was.."

All four firemen froze, studying the dripping 
globs of ooze raining down onto them
and the hideously sagging ceiling, that was inexorably
crushing down onto them by millimeters from the 
wet tonnage of the hillside on top of it.

The deep mud on the floor suddenly moved in a rippling
liquid way and a man's foot poked out of it, heel turned up. 

In horror, Roy realized the flat section he had 
been staring at was actually a partially 
submersed fireman's back.
"Marco!! He's on his stomach over there. Get to him.
Get to him!" he shouted. "Looks like he's pinned under
the mud!"

Gage and Detello and Chet splashed through the
icy mud on their hands and knees and 
they both felt up Lopez's body to his head. Detello grabbed the 
mask from the spare O2 Chet had found and pushed it into
the muck until he had it around Marco's face and then he
pressed it hard around Lopez's struggling nose and mouth.

Detello firmly held the back of Marco's head too, to get
around the man's unthinking panic while he willed Marco
to just blow out the mud in the mask for some
much needed breathing room.

Gage and Chet found the heavy section of "roof" pinning
Marco's head and shoulders under the now foot deep layer
of muck in the bus. It was another bus seat.
"Did ya get it to him? Is he getting air?"
Johnny asked Detello, as he and Chet fought to raise the metal
off of Lopez. The thing wouldn't move.

"Yeah, I think so.. I can feel him grabbing onto my arm.."
Detello grunted. "We gotta hurry. This mask won't hold off
the mud for long.. Water from the rain might still get in.
And he'll drown." Marco's head was still completely 
buried in mud and this, Detello tried to claw away, 
while he shouted. "Easy man. Relax.. I got ya.. Marco.
I got ya."

Suddenly, Marco stopped kicking 
underneath their hands and his limbs settled back 
down into the slime. But Detello still felt his back 
move with the small breaths the man was 
buying from the hastily placed O2 mask.
He saw Johnny's shocked look when Lopez went limp.
"He's ok. He's ok.." Detello said. "He IS breathing. I
can still feel him doing it. Just hurry and get that
thing off of him."

Chet and Gage rushed to get a piece of seat frame
to use as a lever bar. 

In a minute, the heavy debris was off.  Gage and 
Chet grabbed Marco by the hair and hauled his 
lolling head up into the air. They lifted and
supported him into a sitting position against Gage's
chest for lack of better room.

Kelly wiped away the mud from Marco's nose and mouth.
Lopez was barely recognizable.
"Hey. Lopez.. You with us man..?  Come on.. say 
something." 

Lopez stayed silent, limp as a rag doll soaked in
chocolate sauce.

"Oh man. He's really out.." Kelly groaned.

"His mouth clear?" Johnny asked.

Detello hastily looked with the 
flashlight. "Yeah.. He doing anything?"

Gage shook his head when he didn't feel Marco's 
stomach move at all in his bearhug. 

"D*mn! Wish this mask were a ventilator."
Detello said hastily wiping the muck out of the flimsy
but cracked oxygen mask in his hands with
his shirt tail.  

"Yeah? Well what ya had probably saved his life
Detello. That was fast thinking.." Roy said from
where he lay propped on an elbow. He
had Chris's head on his arm and a hand on 
the boy's neck pulse.

Kelly started to grasp Marco's nose
and chin for a mouth to mouth seal, when 
Johnny said."Hang on a minute. Hang on a minute, Chet. 
Just hold off, we still got a minute or two to assess him. 
He just may be partially obstructed with mud here. He's 
not even cyanotic yet.  Just let me check his airway first. 
Don't want you to aspirate anything into his lungs in your 
eagerness to right things." And he firmly gave Marco a 
couple of abdominal thrusts in a modified heimlich 
maneuver. 

Brown muck flooded out of Marco's mouth after the 
fourth one and the nearly suffocated man 
began to bubble actively and right afterwards, 
his arms and legs stirred in new half consciousness.

"Tip him over tip him over!" Kelly said, hanging
onto Marco's head as he vomitted frothy sand and water
out his nose and mouth. They placed him prone over
an upturned seat to drain out his breathing
passages and soon, Detello returned the tattered 
but flowing oxygen mask to the violently coughing man
when he started inhaling in air more than he was spitting
up water. He held it in place, until Lopez had the presence
of mind to manage holding it himself.

"That's it.. Welcome back to the land of the living..Marco."
Gage said. "Just keep sucking on that O2 a bit."

It was a full two minutes before Lopez sat up on his own.
Lopez gasped. "Oh, man. Thought I was drowning. Then
I felt someone push an O2 mask over my face. I ate
a lot of mud but at least, I found something to breathe.
Think my nose is broke though." Marco said, gingerly feeling
where his nostrils were bleeding around the muddy trails
under them. "Somebody had my face in a vice grip."

"Sorry. That was me.." Detello said sheepishly. "The seat
wasn't playing fair in your mud wrestling match. 
That mask was a home play advantage I couldn't resist.
Had to do something drastic to even the odds." he said, 
getting to his feet to search for a crevasse leading to the 
outside or even for one of their lost walkie talkies. 
 
"Yeah? Well keep doing it. Maybe we'll all get out of here
in one piece. *cough*." Marco rubbed the grit out of his eyes
even as Johnny got a pulse off his other wrist. 
"I'm fine Gage. Leave me alone. Everyone else
ok?  *choke* Oh no, I see Chris's out."

"I think he's sleeping." Roy said. "Though I'd feel better
if he had an IV or two running into him."

"Oh, you mean you're looking for this?" Detello said,
wandering back to the others with a very familiar mud
coated rectangular shape. Through the slime, they could
just make out the yellow letters "I V" on the still intact
gear box.

"Detello.." Roy said plainatively. "You're simply a miracle
worker, you know that?"

"Yeah.. I know." He said a touch embarrassed. 
"Had to chew phone books to get my cap
to accept me taking my promotion to engineer last year.
Had to move on,.. cause the guys on the squad shifts
were beginning to call me Angel.. Picture a guy my 
size with a radio nick like that.." he complained. "I'd get
all the missing man details then for sure if word of that
spread around and I'd use up all my great karma
bailing them all outta their rough spots."

"Yeah?, well, you definitely still got that halo in my book."
Lopez muttered, rolling his eyes. Gage firmly 
shoved the shattered O2 mask back onto Lopez's face.

"Make it in thought only man. In thought only. If I hear
anyone here calling me Angel behind my back, 
I'm putting your man Lopez here right back into
that man versus seat wrestling match, is that clear?"
There was no trace of humor in Detello's voice
as he glared at Chet, Johnny, and Roy.

"As crystal man.." Chet swallowed nervously.
"You know, " and he cleared his throat like a pinned
frog. "You should seriously consider going
for a captain's post next, you sure got that glare 
down.."

"I've been practicing.." Detello muttered noisily
slamming seats aside in the areas of the bus
not holding dead children and carefully piling others
in the areas he remembered being occupied.
"I'm going for that test next year I'll have you know."

"Captain Angel.. Got a nice ring to it.."Kelly whispered.

"Chet.." Marco complained. "Exnay on the Oopitsday.."
he said from the corner of his mouth  as
Johnny checked out his bleeding nose with a penlight.

Gage grinned but kept out of the banter. He knew
his buddies were acting what every FD man called "nuts
in a handbasket", to forget the horror in the scene 
around them. Gage fully knew how fleeting such a 
false comfort could be. But he was no one to deny 
them the attempt.

"Ohhhh. Marco.. You worry too much.
He can't hear me, He's over there.." Chet grinned
toothily confident.

Detello said silky smooth from the darkness.
"I sure can Kelly. Better listen to mud wrestler
Lopez over there."  

Both the men from 51 moused down. 

Detello went on, angling his head.
"And I can hear those bulldozers buzzing
around outside. Looks like both our caps are shedding
bricks over us being incommunicado."
And he placed hands like Atlas on the ceiling and gave it
a shove. Chet almost swore he saw the ceiling rise a few
centimeters. His mouth flopped open. "He's moving mountains
man.. " he jabbed Marco's ribs with a slimy elbow. Lopez
grimaced when that elbow caught him on a bruise from 
Gage's earlier heimlich thrusts. 

Detello pegged Chet with another stare, this time one
of brainstorming regard. "Say, you're not
hurt, Kelly. Why don't ya haul off that lazy rear of yours
and help me birdeye one of the HT's. DeSoto won't be
able to start his boy's IVs without permission from Rampart
and I know I'm starting to crave my four o'clock cappucino 
something fierce right about now."

"You got it big guy.."

"Detello will do.."

-----------------------

Photo :  A school bus split wide open, shattered,
             on a road.

Photo : A mudsliding hilltop.

Photo : Detello from Ten's talking with Brackett
            in an ambulance.

******************************
From : "Cory Anda" <andacory@hotmail.com>  
Subject : And Into the Daylight...  
Date :Sat, 11 Jan 2003 09:58:13 +0000  
   
 
Chet quieted down and he patted Marco on the shoulder
as he crawled by Lopez as the shivering man slowly
gained his equilibrium back.

Gage half glanced at him in the dimness of the flashlight
Kelly had handed him. "Marco... You need to be checked
out? That seat hurt you anywhere?"

"I'm fine, Johnny. Worry about Chris ok? Not much
you can do for me anyway without the gear." and
Marco coughed.

"Yeah?" Gage replied with a wry weary look. "Well find
something to wrap up in, you're getting hypothermic.
And keep that O2 mask on while we look for the talkies."

Marco nodded, leaning back on a pile of metal supports
behind them both and closed his eyes. He didn't even
feel Detello cover him with an overcoat.

Johnny watched Marco drift with one eye, but the other
was on Roy and Chris. "How's he doing?" he asked his
partner.

"Chris's out. Vitals are good though." Roy coughed,
raising out of the mud and leaning on his elbows, being
careful not to disturb his son's position on his chest
much. "Don't think it's much more than stress
taking hold.  But I'll feel a lot better when we both
get our legs untangled from this debris here."

DeSoto felt the cold mud crawling higher alongside
his body where he lay and he was glad his own body
heat was keeping Chris somewhat warm.

Kelly bent immediately to recheck where their legs
were trapped. "Doesn't look too bad. Nothing the
K-12 can't handle."

Detello stood after taking a quick pulse quality check
on the sleeping Marco. "That's IF.. we ever get one.."

"Pessimism from the "Angel" himself?" Kelly chuckled
to raise everyone's spirits. 

"More like a reality check..." and Detello once again 
tried his giant strength on the sagging "ceiling" of
the buried school bus. This time, the metal above
his head actually gave way under his shoulder lift.
"I take that back. Those boys with the excavation crew 
work fast. Most of the hill is already off of us.."

Kelly got to his feet and began to shout and
pound on the ceiling and yelling. "Hey!! We're in
here. Six meters from the back hatch! Hey!!"

In Roy's arms, Chris flinched and startled awake
with a sharp moan.. "Dad??!"

"It's ok, Chris. You're fine. We're just raising a 
ruckus so the others outside know where
to slice into to get us out.. How do you feel?"
DeSoto asked.

Chris blinked a few times and winced when he 
tried to test his legs. "My knee feels real big.
Tight. And I'm a little sick to my stomach."

Kelly rolled his eyes ruefully so the boy could
see him in the flashlight. "Aren't we all? Must've
eaten a pound of mud crawling around in here."

"I ate two pounds.." Marco croaked from where
he sat propped up in the darkness.

Chris laughed and winced when his father's laugh
jostled his jammed knee.  Then the sodden boy
said. "Hey.. Before the mud slid on top of us,
I only remember my left leg being held. Why
does my right knee feel heavy?"

Kelly aimed the flashlight under the seat beyond
Chris muddy jeans and a few seconds later, dragged 
out the handy talkie. "Will miracles never cease. 
Detello, you keep right on complaining ,...cause it 
makes whoever you got looking after ya work that
much harder."

"I don't like to press my luck." the big man
grumbled. "Especially with that.."

Gage and Roy both made a grab for the
talkie after Chet got most of the mud off of 
its controls but Detello was faster than 
both of them.

He snatched the HT to his mouth. "Engine
51 this is Triage Ten, over.."

The HT came alive in excited voice.
##That you Detello? Hang on, we're 
calling a cutting crew in right now. Cover
your victims against the sparks.##
Captain Stanley said.  ##We start dismantling
in two minutes.##

"10-4." Detello grinned. "Standing by. We're all
a bit slimy, but ok. Marco took in some mud
but he's stable with only minor complications.
And get a doctor on the phone. We've just one
survivor in need of an IV authorization.."

##Understood. I'll have Stoker raise Rampart.
Engine 51, out.##

-------------------------------------

Outside the crushed bus, Cap didn't even wait
for the bulldozer to leave the area before he waved
his men in with the extrication equipment.
"Ok, Move it in there.. Easy. That top chassis's
bound to be weak from the mudslide, so go
slow. Cut three quarters around only, we'll peel
it back and get them out through the roof.
I'm afraid opening the emergency hatch now will
only collapse the rest of the bus on top of them."

The men working at Cap's side nodded.

Cap shouted. "Ok.. cutting now..!!" he shouted.

-------------------------------------------

Inside, all five firemen and Roy's son winced
when the bright fountain of tangerine sparks  
from a roaring K-12 bit through the steel shell 
of the bus above them. They winced when real 
sunlight sent shafts of brilliant daylight into their 
eyes. 

"Oh, man.. Now I know how miners feel when
they've been in a cave in and we dig them out."
Kelly complained.

Roy covered Chris's face and his own with
his own helmet as the firemen outside cut
a hole into the bus. "It's a sight better than
watching that flashlight die out, don't you 
think?"

Detello flicked the coat over Marco's face
and mask and hunched down himself after
coating his own shoulders with wet mud to
keep his shirt from catching fire. "A whole LOT
better." he admonished Kelly.
     His voice was a little strained from his 
eagerness to win freedom for his companions. 
He began fussing with the cutaway section even
before the man above was finished excising
the flap. He had it accordianed out of the
way in seconds. "All right, give me the K-12
on the double. I've a trapped medic and boy
down here.."

Cap peered into the hole from where
he knelt on top of the bus. "They hurt bad?"

Roy squinted in the bright swath of sunlight
that shafted down onto his face. He peeked
around a protective arm as he spoke before
Detello did. "Nah, Cap." Roy said from 
where he lay in the ooze. "We're just leg pinned. 
Got that authorization from Rampart yet?"

Stoker said. "Here.. Morton wants to talk to
you.." and he lowered the phone receiver dangling
on its cord down to Roy so the biophone antennae
would stay in the open air so it wouldn't lose
telemetry with the doctor's base station.

Morton was succinct and to the point.
"DeSoto. Start a large bore normal saline,
500 CC's and run wide open. Give me
a vitals set when you can on the child. How's
Marco? Stoker couldn't tell me much."

Roy glanced over at Marco and Gage, who
was hovering over him, and said. "He was
submersed underneath the mud for about
two minutes. He was out until we got
some of the sludge out of his throat and
got him on simple masked 02. He's only
a little groggy."

"And chilled. His shivering's stopped."
Gage added.

"And mildly hypothermic Rampart.." Roy
told Mike.

"10-4, 51. Continue both victims on 02
and immobilize the child as a precaution 
when you get him out of there. That
bleeder may indicate fractures we don't know
about in that effected leg." Morton told Roy.

"Understood. Large bore NS, wide. O2 and
treat for shock. Long board immobilization
for Chris.."

Morton at the base station, frowned. 
"51, Could you repeat that? Did you say
a victim's name at that last part?"

Gage took the phone from Roy when
DeSoto tried to reach for the IV box.
Kelly took the kit quickly out of his hands
too.

Chet admonished him. "Now Roy, you
know Johnny's gotta be the one to
directly treat your son. Fire department
policy. Just lie back and don't move while
Detello makes that last slice by your leg
with the saw...." 

Gage said. "Uh,10-4, Rampart. He did.
Chris, the boy, is Roy's son..."

------------------------------------------

Nurse McCall, having just walked into the
glass cubicle, gasped at that last admission.
"What?!" Dixie exclaimed, She gripped 
Dr. Morton's shoulder.

Morton shushed her with a motion as he listened
to what Gage confirmed. He covered the receiver
with a palm and sighed. "Oh, boy. How the h*ll
did DeSoto get inside that bus anyway. I thought
firefighters weren't allowed to treat family members
as a standard working policy.."

"They're not.." Dixie said. "Maybe their circumstances
left them no choice in the matter.." Her curiosity got 
the better of herself and she asked. "What are his
vitals signs? His trauma bad?"

Morton answered. "Don't know. They're still
extricating both him, Roy and Marco, a fellow
engine crew man, who almost drown. 
It's a school bus in a mudslide.."

Dixie winced in sympathy and bit her lip.
"Roy must be frantic with worry being with
him like that."

"Gage won't let him get into any medical hot
water and something tells me that their captain
won't let him do that either.." Morton said.
He lifted his hand off the receiver in a quick
motion. "Contact me in route of any consciousness
level changes and I want a set of vitals on Marco 
and Chris the moment they're en route.."

"10-4, doc.." Gage said and he waved to Stoker
to hand over hand the phone cord back up again
out of sight through the hole. "Thanks Stoker..
Hand down the first stokes. We'll get Marco outta
here first.."

"I don't need a stretcher, Gage, I can--"

"...Relax and enjoy the ride, Lopez. And that's
an order." Cap interrupted. "You're a victim until
Rampart clears you, is that understood?"

"Perfectly.." Lopez sighed, then he coughed when
some lingering mud from his sinuses tried to trickle
back into his throat. He lifted his mask off only long
enough to spit the grit aside and out of his mouth.

It wasn't long before Gage and Detello had Lopez
bundled up in yellow plastic insulating sheets and 
had him ready to be hoisted out of the bus.
Marco's face showed his uneagerness to be
stretchered out, but he cooperated.  He snuck in a move
dettaching his own 02 tubing so Chris wouldn't lose
his 02 bottle.

Gage did a double take at that, frowning, but he saw
Stoker immediately compensate for his respiratory care 
once they had Marco level with the portable 02 from
the engine. Lopez did him one better by strapping
the mask to his own face so Mike was freed up
to help get Roy and his son out.

Cap had the rest of Station Ten carry Marco out of 
the deep, treacherous mud slide to a wheeled 
ambulance gurney already waiting for him on the firm
highway beyond. He crouched by Marco's side as
the Mayfair attendants covered him up snugly in
the beige blankets. "'Don't need a lift out', he says."
Cap muttered. "You're colder than an ice cube there
pal."

Marco didn't deign to reply as the head of the stretcher
was raised to make him more comfortable. "It's just
from the wet, Cap. I'm not injured."

"Hmmph.. I'll believe that once Gage gets a look at ya
to be sure. Hang tight." And he ruffled Marco's caked
hair with a glove.

Captain Stanley returned to the bus just as Roy's
boy was lifted out, complete with the IV Gage
had begun. He could see a red sodden stain through
the sheeting on the boy's left thigh and he saw 
Detello start to take the boy's shoe off to check
for a foot pulse. 

"Ok. I've got a good one here. He's ok to move."
Detello said.

He watched the boy get lowered onto the next gurney
wheeled over to them before he reached down
to grab and haul both Kelly and Gage out of the
bus with both hands at the same time.
Cap's eyebrows lifted in amazement at that.
"What a Sampson type." he said softly.

Chet hopped down, eyes tearing from the bright sun.
"He was Atlas earlier Cap. Kept the roof from caving in on
us until you guys manage to shovel the worst of the muck
off the bus.."  He padded off with his shoes slurping liquidly 
but he turned, adding. "But really he's 
a real bonfide Angel.."

It was Cap's turn to frown in confusion.
Then he shouted after his departing mud covered
man. "Were you guys short on air in there or 
something?"

But Chet was already out of earshot  as
he asked Stoker to hose down his shoes and outer
wear "really good".

When they were out, Detello subtly shook his
head to the other firemen surrounding him, that
there were no other children still alive inside.

Gage took full advantage of Roy still waiting to be
cut free to take a closer look at Chris. He kept
expression off his face when he saw the extent
of the laceration on the boy's thigh. He knew at
least, that it would require plastic surgery to fully
mend it after the deep gash was thoroughly 
cleaned of mud and sand and allowed to drain 
open for a few days.   

But he smiled when the boy's BP was only
slightly below normal. "There.. That's not
too bad." he grinned down at the boy,
adjusting the cannula's prongs into the right
place inside his nose. "Strong as all get out.
You're not even moderately shocky."

"Dad made me rest a bit while we were in
there. I think I slept once." Chris admitted.

"He sure did..." Roy said, jumping down
from the bus with the ground crew firemen's help.
One of them tossed DeSoto the IV box
afterwards. " For about half an hour there."

Roy fussed with Chris's blankets until Johnny
slapped his hands away. "I got him, I got him,
Why don't you go check on Marco in the rig?
We'll meet you in there as soon as I relay
his vitals to Morton."

DeSoto reluctantly retreated.

--------------------------------

Cap gave Gage a subtle thumbs up for
finding an excuse to separate Roy from
Chris. But a further significant glint in Cap's
eye made Johnny say, "He's fine Cap.
Nothing major's been damaged here."

"That's means good news, son.." Cap said, 
patting Chris on the shoulder.

"I know. I could tell because my leg didn't
squirt out at all when I first did it, trying to 
reach Carrie.."

At the name, and another exchange of looks
from Stoker, Cap learned the little girl hadn't
survived the trip to the hospital despite her
successful revival, so he had plenty of warning
time before Chris's next question. 

"How's Carrie?"the blond boy asked.

Johnny said. "Let's concentrate on getting you
squared away first, ok? Does your head hurt at
all? No?.... Just that knee.. ok.. now Cap
and I are going to immobilize that leg in a splint
just to keep it from jostling around.. ok?"

Chris nodded.

Once that was done, Chris, Johnny, the engine's
02 tank and the gear were all loaded up in the rig
waiting with Marco and Roy.  

Detello, following behind them, glanced up and 
saw the five children that managed to get out 
of the wreck unscathed. They looked older 
than their years. One, almost looked like 
DeSoto's son from where he stood, numb and 
confused in a muddy pool by the side of the road. 

Detello gave him a small smile he hoped would 
be reassuring and offered the glassy eyed youngster 
a salute off his crusty helmet's rim. His smile faded 
when the boy didn't grin back.  ::So many have died 
today. How is this going to effect us?:: he thought. 
::I was a medic for three years and I've never seen 
a run as bad as this. Please.. g*d. Make us forget 
the details of this one, fast...:: 

----------------------------------------------- 

It took twelve minutes to get to the hospital.

Then.......

-----------------------------------

Photo : A rumpled bus, cut open.

Photo : Roy, mud covered, on the biophone.

Photo : A boy, lying in a mud pool, in the sun.

Photo : Johnny and others carrying a stokes and
            gear.

*animated gif* : Ambulance with flashing lights at night.

Photo : A close up of Cap, looking down, wearing his 
            helmet. 

*************************
From : "patti keiper" <pattik1@hotmail.com>  
Subject :[EmergencyTheaterLive] The Breaking Point..  
Date : Sun, 12 Jan 2003 08:29:28 +0000  
  
Dr. Morton opened the ambulance doors to receive
the two gurneys from Roy and Johnny. 
"We'll take the boy into Treatment One, Gage.
DeSoto, how's Lopez?"

"Fine, doc. Once we got those wet clothes off
he started to warm up. He's fully time and place
oriented; never lost it and there's still no signs
of pulmonary edema." Roy reported.

"Good. Dixie has Treatment Two set up for him
with Dr. Early. Stay with him."

"But-"

" DeSoto. Carry out my orders." he snapped. 
Then he said more gently. "I won't keep you in 
the dark about Chris, Roy. Know that as a promise. 
But you know the regulations.. "

Roy grumbled, reciting.."No treatment contact is 
allowed at all in a hospital setting for anyone 
who's kin of a victim. I know that doc." he 
said as they rapidly wheeled their two patients 
inside Rampart through the emergency doors. 

Morton angled his dark head."We'll let 
you see him once we've determined he's truly 
stable and only after he's been fully treated."

"Doc.. I don't want to leave him.."

Chet opened the door of the squad he had driven
in and jumped out of the seat. The plastic sheet
he had used to keep mud off its upholstery had
dried to his back and legs and he hastily peeled
it off, leaving it on the hood. He hurried past
where Morton and Roy where debating. "Roy,
just hush and let the man do his job. 
I'll be your eyes in there FOR you man."

Morton looked up from his quick exam of Chris's
eyes as they walked inside the hospital.
"Why are you planning on following us, Kelly? 
There's nothing wrong with you..."
Morton challenged.

"Oh, gee. Didn't Gage tell you? He and I were
sandwiched in debris pretty good when the hill
came down on us. I might keel over any second, 
doc." he said factitiously.

For once, Johnny backed him up by keeping a straight
face to support his fast talking job on Morton.

"Is that a fact......" 
Mike sighed in resignation, knowing he couldn't stop
anyone ELSE who wanted in on current news about 
a coworker's family member's medical status. 
He surprised himself by not retorting further at Chet 
as he, Gage, Chris and an ambulance attendant, 
got the longboarded boy transferred to the large
room's exam table. 

Kelly shouted before the door closed on Roy's
face. "I'll be right out and I'll meet you in 
Marco's room with an update, DeSoto!"

"I'l..l..  h..o..l..d..  y..o..u..  t..o..  t..h..a..t, C..h..e..t."
came Roy's muffled retort through the door.

Kelly gingerly held up defensive hands in
appeasement and backed away self consciously
from Roy's angry voice to carry out his 
promise to him. He strode to the foot of 
Chris's bed and quietly watched his medical 
care take place.

"Chris.. the man who's poking and prodding
you is Dr. Morton. He'll take really good
care of you.." Johnny introduced quickly.

"Hi, Dr. Morton.."

"Hello..." Mike answered. "The nurse to my right
is Carol Evans."

"Hi Ms. Evans."

"Hi Chris.." she answered. "Warm enough?"

"Uh huh.."

Carol Evans smoothly moved Chris's IV to a 
pole and switched around his O2 supply to a wall 
port while Gage helped Morton expose Chris's leg 
laceration. 

"He still tachycardic?" Morton asked.

Gage was about to reply when a voice piped
up from tiny form bundled inside the longboard.
"Yeah..." Chris said firmly. "I'm 140."

Johnny grinned at Morton's surprised look and
the dark skinned doctor said. "You won't mind if 
I confirm your findings on an EKG, son?"

"It's what dad would do..." Chris agreed.

"Is that so.." Morton said, casting amused eyes at
everyone in the room. "Well you're absolutely right 
young fella. That IS the next thing we'll do." Morton 
smiled. "You're a very smart young boy.. How'd 
you come to learn so much?"

"Classes. I hang out when dad recertifys or when
he's gotta teach the new FD trainees to become 
paramedics."

"You do?" Chet asked surprised.

"Uh huh.." Chris told him. "It's fun.. Sometimes
they use me to practice their dressings and neck/back
immobilizing. Last month, I was a play victim in a fake
airjet crash at LAX." 

Chet Kelly was very thoughtful when he heard what
Chris had accomplished and what he had learned.

"So, you wanna be a medic when you grow up?" Morton
asked, palpating Chris's abdomen for tenderness.

"Nah,.. I wanna be an architect like my grandpa. I'll just
keep what I learn now handy for when I have my own
kids. You know how much trouble we can get into at my
age." Chris said wisely.

Johnny practically burst with mirth and pride at that
little gem coming from his partner's first born.

Chris's worldly personality had finally charmed Dr. 
Morton. "Son, I can't believe you'd EVER get that way." 
Morton said, leaning close to his head with a confidential 
smiling whisper.

Chris motioned with a crooking finger, and 
when the young doc had come closer, he 
whispered into Morton's ear.
"I sometimes do. But it's my sister who always
starts it."

Morton patted Chris on the shoulder. " Yeah?
Well she's not here right now to work her mischief,
so you can let your guard down. We're going to get some 
xrays of your leg to confirm non fracture injury 
to that thigh and knee and if I like your pictures,
we'll see about getting you free of those straps 
and that C-collar."

"Fair enough. I'm tired of being strapped up
like a mummy. What after that?"

Oh,.. let me see.." Morton sighed, tapping a finger
on his lips. "Most likely, since you're doing so well,
it's up to surgery for a repair job. How does that 
sound?"

"Like I'm not going to enjoy it too much. Don't
think I wanna go."

"Ice cream after.." Chet promised.

"Ok, ok, ok.. I'll go. But make sure
the gas man doesn't give me the stuff that makes
me sick afterwards." Chris said, watching his Uncle
Gage tape EKG patches onto his chest gravely.
"I watched my sister puke for an hour after she
had her tonsils out.."

"I'll work out a deal with him.." Morton said,
with a wink and nod. Then he turned on the EKG and
studied Chris's rapid heartbeat on the live screen.
For a cross reference, he got a paper strip reading, too. 
"Hmmm. " he said after a minute or so..
"Just simple V tach here, Gage." he mumbled.

"That's what we figured, even just listening apically." 
Johnny admitted.
 
Then more loudly, Morton looked up.
"Guess what Chris? Your EKG's telling me ....
that you're just ...thirsty..." he concluded to his 
small patient, setting hands on his hips.

"Thirsty?" and a serious puzzlement filled 
the young boy's face. "I don't think I am.." 
Chris said with amazement. "I haven't been 
playing any softball today."

"You're forgetting that leg cut of yours. You 
must have bled some while you were still 
buried in the mud. Most likely, with all the 
excitement going on, you weren't even aware 
of it."

"Oh. I WAS scared a lot, doctor. But Detello,
Uncle Johnny, Mr. Kelly, Mr. Lopez and dad,
found me and then I wasn't afraid any more 
after that." 

"Good.." Mike soothed. "You're doing fine
here, too. You're very calm."

Chris DeSoto's face fell into a serious 
expression. "So, Dr. Morton...."

"Umm hmmmm." Mike replied, looking into the boy's
ears for liquids other than mud with an otoscope.

"You say I lost some fluid vul...vel...."

"Volume.." Morton completed. "A bit..
About as much as three soda cans, I suspect."
Mike straightened up on his exam stool
and wheeled it around so he could recheck 
a pedal beat in Chris's effected leg and to
test range of motion in the swollen knee.

"And that's why my heart's working harder 
right now?" the child said, carefully thinking.

"Yep." Johnny said. "You nailed it, Chris."

The tiny boy's muddy face furrowed as he thought
about his situation."Then shouldn't those drops 
be going faster?" Chris said pointing at his IV 
hanging near his head.

Kelly and Gage laughed when Morton sputtered
as he told Nurse Evans to increase the flow into 
the drip chamber.  They immediately piped down
when Mike glared at them in offense.

Chris was oblivious to the innocent commotion
he caused, suddenly very interested in the great
Xray machine wheeling into his exam room.

----------------------------------------------------

Marco Lopez was raised semi sitting on his gurney
beneath a pile of heated blankets. The torn, ripped
field oxygen mask had been replaced with an in 
house cannula on low flow. Doctor Early was carefully 
listening to Lopez's breath sounds through the
front side of his chest. 
"Take a deep breath. ......
And another one.... Good.." the doctor encouraged.

 Then he thoughtfully pulled off his stethoscope.
"I'm not hearing anything abnormal 
here, Marco. How do you feel?"

"Fine.." the fireman replied.
Dr. Early began examining his ribs and abdomen,
and Lopez flinched and caught his breath,
when Joe found a band of tenderness around his 
diaphram. "Except there. Just a little sore."

"Roy, I thought you said he was uninjured." Joe
remarked looking up at DeSoto standing near 
Lopez's head. 

"He isn't injured. I think he's just a little tender 
because Johnny had to clear his throat a bit 
when we first got him free."
Roy said timidly, crossing his arms over his 
elbows, nervously.

"Heimlich?"

"Yeah..."

Joe felt all over other areas of Marco's abdomen 
but found nothing else wrong. "Most likely, 
this is just the typical bruising from that kind of maneuver.
Marco, does it hurt when I do this?" Dr. Early asked as he
prodded and pressed on his liver and spleen.

"Not much.. Hardly at all."

"Hmph.." and he put his stethoscope back into
his ears.

Roy and Chet and Marco all waited in silence.

Joe sat back on his seat after listening to Marco's
bowel sounds. "Everything sounds normal. So, that's
probably what it is. Roy, was his orthostatic BP, 
when you checked it last, wide spread?"

"Not appreciably. It didn't sink into the basement if
that's what you're looking for.. Hardly moved ten
millibars, systolically or diastolically."


Joe's face lost his doctoring look and melted
into a casual bent. "Now I'm convinced. "
And he sighed in relief.. "You're a lucky man Lopez.
Mud inhalation has a tendency to cause a nasty
case of pneumonia. And both your lungs are completely
clear. But, I'd like to ask you just a few questions
to put my own mind at ease."

"Ok, doc." Marco nodded.

"Do you remember if you blacked out at all?"

"I didn't. Not at all. Just got a little tired when I got cold."

Roy's agreeing nod confirmed it for Joe.

Joe stood up. "Your vital signs are normal. Your
temperature is now where it should be, and you
have absolutely no indications of internal injury."
he took his stethoscope off from around his neck
and stuffed it into a copious pocket. "I'm
releasing you."

"You mean, he's going to be fine?" DeSoto asked.

"Healthiest near drowning I've ever seen."
Joe chuckled. "But I am prescribing you some
antibiotics just as a precaution. There's no telling
whether or not that mud you ingested was 
contaminated with sewage runoff or other
substances from the slide."
 
"Oohhwwk." Marco made a face. 

Joe went on, with a kind smile. 
"But I wouldn't worry about that.
Your body will excrete it naturally and maybe 
the only thing you'll notice is that you may get 
slightly constipated later on."

"Wonderful.." Lopez said sarcastically.

"I can prescribe a laxative if you're 
worried." Joe added helpfully.

"Don't bother. My mother's probably got
a recipe somewhere that'll do the trick if
things get into a bind."

Roy hid a smile. "I think your mother's 
corn tamales might be just the thing."

Marco looked aghast, "Are you saying my
mama's cooking..... " Lopez hunted around for
delicate terms. "....puts..you off Roy?"

"Honestly? At times..it does." Roy admitted,
refolding his arms subconsciously.

Lopez slumped back onto his pillow.
"Oh brother..She's not going like hearing about that.."

"Look. Lopez.. I- I- It's no big deal. Really. Listen..
Tell her it's just our intolerance for spicy
food." Roy said matter of fact. "That it runs only
in my family.." he added drolly.

"It does?"

"Yeah.." Roy said empathically and he
uncrossed his arms to present an image
of conviction.

"Oh.. Thanks for uh,.. letting me know
about that ..uh .. effect. Wouldn't want
mom to worry that her food bothered
anyone."

"Tell her it truly doesn't. " Roy said. " Tell
her we DeSotos are atypical gastronomically 
speaking. And that her reputation as Prima
Dona Cocina Senora is unthreatened. Have
no fear."

Marco studied Roy's face for long moments,
weighing his words. Finally, he slowly nodded.
His hurt feelings tamed.

"That settles it then. Marco's mom cooks Marco
some of her famous corn tamales.. and... I give
you this.."Joe rose with Marco's chart and ripped
out the form from it for Lopez with his written 
prescription. "A broad spectrum antibiotic."

Lopez nodded in tired compliance, grudgingly.

Roy turned off Marco's O2
feed, took it off his grumbling co worker,
rolled up its tubing, and tossed
it into a waste receptacle bin. "Chin up, Marco.
You could be me.."

Marco glanced up in sudden alarm at Roy's out
of character self jab.

Right then, the treatment room doors 
opened and a bustling, cheerfully whistling 
Chet, entered. He had body showered in the 
surgical locker room and was wearing a 
luxuriously clean uniform despite
his still heavily mud flecked face. In his arms, 
he carried two more sets of shoes, 
shirts and slacks for Marco and Roy. 
And even two pairs of T-shirts and boxer
shorts.

Roy recognized those right away.

But Marco remarked faster. "Hey,
who raided our lockers at the station?"

"Detello did. His company was released
off scene before Cap and Stoker and he
took a few liberties. Conned the Batallion
Chief out of his car for an hour to go
get us these."

"Wow.. what a saint." Joe said, raising his 
eyebrows.

"You have no idea, man. Detello's definitely
saint grade material. Or maybe even higher, doc."
Chet said, rolling his eyes. "He makes Camelot's 
Lancelot Du Lacque seem like a two bit wuss."

"Really..?" Joe said.

"It was uncanny, Dr. Early. Just when we needed
equipment or needed a hand getting out of a tight
spot, this Detello guy always managed to come up with
a miraculous solution. He's the one who kept
Marco from drowning with a flimsy 02 mask
until we could get him outta trouble." Chet
elaborated.

"Yeah, only thing is he probably broke my nose.."
Marco said.

"He broke your nose?"  Joe asked. 
"I thought that red on your face was just mud..." 
and he drew out his penlight to examine the inside of
Marco's nose and he soon put it away to palpate the
surrounding face bones carefully. "Canyon mud 
from Escondido.."

Roy blinked. "Yeah, we were near Escondido, off
the freeway." ::What a detective..:: he thought.

"I'm not feeling any crepitus here. Can you breathe
through your nose ok?"

Marco nodded. "Yes. It's just a little tender."

"Want us to do an x-ray to be sure?"

"Would it effect anything? I mean, what will you do
if it is broken?"

"Nothing. I'm seeing no deformity. "First do no harm."
Joe recited. "Better to leave well enough alone since
it isn't hurting enough to bother you much."

Roy grinned thoughtfully. "A symptom which seems
like no symptom IS no symptom."

"Exactly what I was thinking. My original prognosis 
stands Marco. You're free to go." Joe said. "Kel's
rubbing off on you Roy. That's Dr. Brackett's
mantra."

Roy smiled even bigger. "From paramedic training
class. I remember.." Then Roy's stress began to
poke through and he found himself growing 
impatient to hold Kelly to his promise. "Chet..."

Chet was busy at the sink and cupboard finding
a wash bowl and a stand so Marco could rinse 
off the worst of the mud off himself before 
he changed into his clothes.

"Chet.." Roy repeated.

"Hmmm?" Kelly said, after frothing up the antibiotic
soap in the bowl with a few fingers. He couldn't
resist bending over and rinsing his own face free
of mud.

"How's Chris?"

"Chris..?" Chet said, still preoccupied with the 
luxury of steaming clear water so near at hand.

"My son..? H- How's he doing?"

"Your son's here?" Joe asked quickly, looking
up from the chart he was recording.

"Yeah, he was in the bus with us.." Marco said.
"Yeah, Chet. How's he doing?"

Chet grimaced and said.  "Ahh! Roy
couldja hand me a towel? I think I got soap in
my eye.."

Roy levelled one at his face with force.
"Chet!!"

"Oww, thanks. Uh," Kelly said using the towel's
corner to twist grit out of his ear. "He's one hundred
percent  Ayee Okay, Roy. Just some surgery to
suture him up. No lasting damage.." he said mildly
to them all when he looked up.

"You're certain..."

"Does Morton ever smile?" Chet said deadpan.

Roy let down his suspicion about the validity of
his news immediately and relaxed.

But Lopez was still discontented.
"Chet.." Marco prompted.

"Huh.."

"How am I supposed to wash up with that?"

"With what?"

Roy and Lopez both pointed down.

Kelly's charitable wash bath offering was now
dark red with mud and crusty sand. "Oh,, sorry.
Here Marco, let me draw you up another one."

Joe left the treatment room, chuckling.

Roy followed him, admonishing after Marco and
Chet as he left, holding the door open with
a deep lean.
"You guys got fifteen minutes to clean up. We
can then all leave in the squad together. If
we jam in tight, we can get four in the 
cab. We've done it before.."

"Wait a minute. You're going to leave Chris 
alone here at Rampart?" Kelly asked.

"Yes.. No.. Oh, I don't know.. Never had this
happen before, don't know if Cap'll let me
remain here."

"Of course he will, DeSoto. Are you outta your
everloving mind?" Kelly frowned passionately.

"Yeah, just a little. The crisis is over and I guess
I'm finally reacting.." Roy said numbly.

"I'll say."

But Roy acted as if he didn't hear Kelly at all
as his mind was still racing.
"I'll call Joanne, let her know what's 
happened to Chris, and get cleaned up myself..
Then we can go.." he muttered, already losing
recollection of Chet's firm belief Cap would release
Roy from active duty because of his son's mishap.

"You're gonna do all that in fifteen minutes?
Man, Joanne's gonna fall apart for sure.
Nothing like the maternal instinct." Kelly
commented.

"Yeah well that maternal instinct's also
been down this route before. Joanne's
not some snivelling panicky mother who'll
faint at the slightest bad news."

"Never said she was going to faint I said
she might fall apar--" Chet began.

"Kelly..." Roy said irritably.

"What..?"

"Just go help Marco change."

Chet finally saw he was outta line.
"Right.."  He peeked out further from
the Treatment Room. "But then we 
gotta talk pal.."

"About what?" Roy snapped.

"About something your son's into, man. 
Think I might wanna get into it, too, real soon."
Chet said mysteriously.

"I'm dying with suspense..Can it wait? My life's
sorta kinda been turned upside down today if
you haven't noticed.." DeSoto said sarcastically.

"Yeah, I noticed.. And yeah. It can wait. Better yet,
I'll bring up my idea to Johnny. He might be in a 
better mood to offer an opinion. Man, at least I know 
GAGE can handle his stress.."

"Not this kind.." Roy fired back and he let the 
door swing shut between them. DeSoto felt like
an immediate terd for lashing out at Kelly but
a part of him really didn't care at the moment.

All he could think about was that phone call
to Joanne.

All through his shower in the hospital locker 
room, he rehearsed how he was going to break
the news to the family.

Then he figured it out. He would let Chris call
home himself, before he was prepped for surgery.
::Nothing like hearing news from the source:: 
DeSoto sighed. ::Maybe I'll have Dixie string
in a landline from the wall, to Chris's bed so 
he can dial out directly from a phone that isn't
the red one. Might ease the shock for Joanne
and my daughter.::

An overwhelming paternal angst gripped
Roy. His separation from his son following 
his near fatal accident suddenly felt intolerable. 

Roy couldn't seem to dress fast enough for 
comfort's sake and all he could see was the 
memory of Chris's mud covered face blending 
in with the hillside's guts, pooling in the bus, 
whenever he closed his eyes.

Something very integral inside Roy, ....finally snapped.

-----------------------------------

Photo : Morton in scrubs.

Photo : Marco smiling at you through the 
            squad's open door window.

Photo : Joe Early standing by an IV pole.

Photo : Johnny looking sweaty and tense.

Photo : Chet making a point in close up.

Photo : Roy on a payphone, looking pained.

Photo : Roy in a pool of mud, with his unconscious
            son.

**********************************
From:  Katherine Bird <kathbird01@yahoo.co.uk> 
Date:  Wed Jan 15, 2003  12:10 am
Subject:  The Shell..

-----------------------------------------------

It was morning, and the day after the school
bus rescue. A-shift slowly made their way into
the kitchen for coffee after changing into their
work clothes.

Cap was the first one to the steaming coffee pot.
In his hands were the run sheet forms for the
bus's incident.  He placed them fanned out in
the middle of the table top and placed the pot
in their center so anyone reaching for it would
have to see the forms before getting a cup filled.

Then he retreated to his recliner and the 
morning newspaper folded neatly there by C shift.

He intentionally didn't read the headlines which 
covered the bus crash and the journalist sensationalism
about how many had died in the slide, moving on 
instead, to the sports pages.

-------------------------------------------

Johnny Gage rubbed feigned sleepy eyes and 
darted through the kitchen door, jostling with
Chet in a vie for the coffee pot. Both firemen
grabbed its black handle and Cap said,
"When the fur stops flying over there, eyeball
the papers you're not going to spill that coffee
on.. Take a set and fill them out before lunchtime."

Johnny and Chet's amicable mood evaporated
when they realized it was the bus run's mortality 
forms. Gage sighed glumly, "Right Cap, uh, we'll get
right on these.. uh, do the investigators want to know
complete details?"

"As best you can, Gage. And I know recalling back
to yesterday isn't going to be pleasant. Just stick
to positional details and what ya found."

Chet sat on the kitchen table and took a sip
of his coffee, still lost in the sobering feel in the room,
and poured Johnny's cup full after his own.
"What's the point of an investigation, Cap? I
mean, the guy who hit the bus was DOA."

Cap looked up uncomfortably."Its a suit against
the city in an action concerning the mudslide..
Negligience on the part of the highway department
for not shoring up that canyon wall to withstand
flooding."

"That craziness, Cap. Most of those..kids wer-" and 
Johnny's voice broke as a memory of the little girl 
who was swept away down the storm drain filtered 
into his mind. Gage fought the emotion out of his 
voice and continued.. "...most of those poor kids 
were gone even before the slide happened." Gage 
insisted. "Besides, that rainfall was abnormally high. 
Most inches an hour since the 1920's the Chief said.
There's no cause for such a class action."

"I know that." Cap said. "But these kids's parents
are grieving and you know how that goes. Any
outlet's a channel for them."

Roy had entered the kitchen quietly, and he
refused the third coffee mug Johnny offered him.
"No thanks. " he said, sitting on the table next
to Johnny. "Are we going to have to testify about 
those fatalities, Cap?"

Hank shrugged diffidently in the negative, "The 
Chief, this morning,  just asked about our run 
sheets so far. No hearings in sight for any of us yet. 
I'll,...I'll..let you know as soon as I can about that.."

"Thanks.." Roy said softly.

Marco piped up. "Hey Roy, how's your boy? Is he
ok? I didn't get to hear how he was doing after
I left yesterday. Dixie refused to fill me in when she
wheeled me out the back door."

Roy smiled a half hearted smile. "That's probably
because she figured you already had a full plate
concerning your own recovery. She most
likely, didn't want ya to worry about anything else, 
Lopez."

"Since when does asking about something like that 
constitute being a burden?" Marco complained.

Johnny grinned. "Dix was only looking out
for your best interests. Besides, I'll bet she
called ya a few hours after you got home
with the good news, didn't she?"

"Yeah." Marco said. "She did.. But mama said
I was sleeping.."

"Dix did her job then." he grinned. "She made
sure she got the news ya wanted." he 
concluded.

"Not soon enough.." Marco scoffed.

Roy thought about that remark thoughtfully
and mumbled to himself. "It's never soon
enough.." But no one else heard him.

Stoker pulled out a chair for Roy. "So,.."
he said grandly.. "..don't keep us in suspense. 
Tell us how he is.."

The squeal of the chair's legs on the tile floor
broke Roy out of his reverie and he blinked a
few times. But his face stayed flat and almost
emotionless.
"Chris's gonna be fine. He came outta surgery
with flying colors. His leg's gonna heal cleanly,
and he's handling his best friend Carrie's death as
well as can be expected..." he paused when 
the gang grew reflective for his benefit. "Joanne
and I are just glad it's all over with.." Roy 
said, trying to grin, without confidence.
"Chris goes home Friday once the drainage
shunts are removed."

Cap noticed Roy's lack luster mannerisms.
"You ok there, Roy?" he said, setting his
paper down.

"Yeah, Cap.. I- I'm fine.. Just tired I guess."
DeSoto replied.

Captain Stanley's gaze bore right into Roy's
until Roy thought he was going to start fidgetting
under their scrutiny. But finally, Hank sighed.
"Ok, you know the support panel's there if you want
to go talk to anyone sooner. I've got us all scheduled 
with the counselors for disaster debriefing this 
afternoon. The usual routine."

The rest of the gang cleared their throats and
mumured uncomfortably. They all knew they
needed to talk about the run as soon as they
could, before its impact could effect any of
them even more.

"Ok, Cap.." Then Roy noticed the last remaining
Code F report form resting on the table. "Oh. I forgot.
I'll get right on this.." he promised.

"Take your time.. These aren't due at 
Headquarters until six.." Hank said.

The kitchen fell into quiet as each of the gang
filled out the grim details of facts and the actions
they each had taken during the bus accident. 

The tension was so thick, Henry started to whine 
at their concentrated silence.


Marco and Chet got up immediately and took their
forms and donuts to the couch. Lopez took Henry
into his lap and fed him a treat. Stoker faked
stretched, without comment, studying his shoes.

"Can't hide anything from Henry, can we?"
Johnny said to no one in particular.

"Nope. He's a hot dog who's a blood hound. 
What can we hide from a nose that big?"

And everyone laughed. Everyone except Roy.


"Say, Gage.."
Kelly smacked Gage on the shoulder to
get his attention from where he was 
carefully writing on his incident form.

"Oww, Kelly now cut that out. Now I'm going
to have to start filling this out all over again."
Johnny groused. Then he rubbed his arm.
"That's a sore spot from yesterday."

"Sorry Gage.  But listen.. I almost brought this
up to DeSoto but he was too busy being a fidgetty
father yesterday to pay me any attention."

"Gee. I wonder why? Kelly, just get to the point." 
Johnny said impatiently.

"Yeah, Chet. Get to the meat of it already." 
Marco said from his kitchen seat.

Kelly glanced up and suddenly noticed that everyone,
including Cap, was paying close attention to
him.  He immediately got embarrassed.
"Now, listen fellas. I just wanted to bring up
a conversation with Johnny that was kinda private
here, you know what I mean?"

Cap's eyebrows rose. "Fraid we don't. In it
for an inch, in it for a mile, we figure. Right gang?
Anything you need to say about work, we're
entitled to know about, because we're just one big, 
close knit, happy outfit here, Kelly."

Gage and the others all agreed with animated
nods and gestures.

"Speak for yourself, Cap! uh, I mean sir.."
Kelly amended.  He whined. "Oh, come on guys.
For me..?" He sighed when no one looked away. 
"Ok, ok. I see I have no choice in the matter 
while I get an answer for myself. I see. 
Ok,.. all right. I'll just come right out and say it then..  
Johnny, do you think I got the right stuff to make 
the coursework to become a paramedic?"

Johnny had been mentally smiling as vultures
zoomed in on the summer of Chet's malcontent,
but now, Gage nearly spit out the mouthful of 
coffee he had been swallowing. "What?! "

Babble followed instantly.
    "A medic, Chet?" Stoker parroted.
"That's great, Chet.." Lopez said warmly.
    Cap's face animated in surprise. "Wow, that's
news there, Kelly. What made you suddenly
decide this?"
    Roy even perked up a little."Really?"

Chet tried to quell them all with shushes and 
self conscious hand waves. "Gimme a sec, gimme 
a second here. Let Johnny answer my question 
first, eh, guys? All right..? Then I'll let you have
at it.."

Everyone obeyed instantly, all ears and expectant,
as they all looked at Johnny. 

Including Henry.

Gage cleared his throat uncomfortably inside the
circle of faces surrounding his. "Uh, well.. Chet. 
You see, uh.. Wow, Gee. I don't know where to 
begin.." He started over on a different track. 
"You seem like a pretty good firefighter and I like 
working with ya and all. But quite frankly, I haven't 
actually, ever considered this idea before, you know.
I think you'd--"

The alarm tones went off.

========================
##Station 51. Possible drowning. L.A. Riverbed.
One half mile north of Vadnais Heights Boulevard.
One half mile north of Vadnais Heights Boulevard.
Time out, 8: 02.##
========================

In the garage, Cap thumbed the response mike 
and replied. "This is station 51, 10-4. KMG 365."

And he threw on his turnout coat and beat 
a hasty pace to the LaFrance.

------------------------------------------------


On scene, a lone hiker, muddied despite the clear
day, met them on the roadside margin. He seemed
highly agitated. "Glad you got here so fast. Hurry.
I couldn't get down there any closer. Uh, man.."
he gasped.

"What do you got?"Cap fired at him as he stepped
out of the truck's cab.

"Well, I couldn't believe what I was looking at.
I couldn't believe my eyes at first." he panted.
"I just couldn't believe it was really a--"
The biker suddenly turned green and Johnny and
Roy had to catch him when he stopped
speaking and when his knees started to buckle. 

"Whoa, whoa.. now take it easy. Hey. You feeling 
all right?" Johnny said. "Here, set him over against 
the squad." He and Roy and Cap managed to get 
the man sitting on the wet ground. Stoker went 
for the O2.

Gage said to Cap. "I got him. Looks like it's 
a syncopal episode. His pulse's normal."

"Cap, I'll go looking around. Maybe I can find out 
something.." Roy said, readjusting his helmet.

"You do that. Marco, Chet, go with him." Cap said.
He pulled out his walkie talkie. "L.A. This is Engine
51. Send an ambulance to our location. We've a 
man down."

##10-4, 51. Time out 8:14.##

Marco, Chet and Roy headed into the brush 
rimming the man made channel of the L.A. river.

The bed was partially filled with a fast flow,
and it was clogged with many many downed
trees and debris from the flooding of the day
before. 

Then they spotted an orange hiker's pack
and mountain bike and an abandoned CB radio
lying on the ground. 

"This is where he must have made our
rescue call..." Roy said.  "Let's assume
he spotted something straight down from
here."   And he waved Chet and Marco
along with him down the next decline.

They skidded over the slope of
the final levee to the top of the drop off leading
into the concrete river system and crawled 
on their bellies until they were able to see 
beyond down into the waterway.

Marco gasped.

A horribly mangled little girl lay twisted in
the bows of a flooded eucalyptus tree with
skin so dusky, that there was no doubt 
that the life signs in her had fled long ago.
One arm was broken hideously over her head
and the crushed torso was wearing a 
very familar set of school colors. 

"Oh, my g*d. It's her.." Kelly heard from
Roy. 

"What?" Chet asked. "This is who, Roy?"
he asked through a scrub bush, separating
them.

But Roy just stood there, dropping his
walkie talkie from limp fingers.

Chet and Marco didn't see him falter,
still being partially hidden in the 
overgrown field.

"Come on, Marco. Let's get closer.."
Kelly said, moments later.

Through the brush, Chet called out
again as Marco and he struggled to get
nearer the area where they saw the little
girl's remains."Roy.. we need to know 
what you know." Kelly said over the 
roar of water. "There are parents 
somewhere out there looking for this little 
girl. If you know something we don't, y--"

They heard DeSoto sob a heart rending 
incomprehensible outburst, quickly 
followed by sudden violent retching.  Kelly 
and Lopez heard the thud of something with 
weight, fall onto the dry reeds above the river, 
seconds later.

Kelly and Lopez turned from the water,
not understanding for a moment. They both 
were shocked when they jogged back the way
they had come to see Roy curled up into a ball on 
the ground. He was on his side, getting sick and
trying to hide the fact that his stomach
battle had been lost in what seemed to Chet, 
a pitiful way.

"Roy, pull yourself together man. It's ok.
We'll just get her in a few when you're better
and we'll just get the h*ll out of here.."
Kelly said. 

Lopez said. "I don't think this is just a grossing
out, Chet. I mean, this is ROY. He never lets things
like this bother him. Something's really not right 
here."

"You deal with it. I gotta let Cap know what's going on."
Chet said defensively. His face was a mixture of 
worry, disgust and frustration. Kelly went to find 
some high ground to report to the engine crew.

Marco went to Roy's side and pulled him away
from the soiling ground.  He helped Roy kneel upright
and Lopez held him while he continued to empty
his stomach. His heaves were so violent, that
his chin strap loosened and DeSoto's helmet 
flopped forward over his eyes. 

Marco took off Roy's helmet and threw
it some distance up the hill in frustration and anger
over the second unexpected horror delivered
to them yet again in as many days.
He waited until Roy was through gagging, then
he said. "Come on, Roy. Let's move away. We're
too near the edge."



Kelly pulled out his HT. "Cap. We've got a Code F.
It's a  ...  it's a ...kid from the bus rescue. Roy 
recognized her right away."

##Would you 10-9 that, Kelly. A Code F from
yesterday?## Cap queried.

"That's affirmative, Cap. And she's retrievable."

There was a long silence. ##All right. Listen.
This is first. Our hiker informant's a diabetic and 
the stress of his calling us out here has set off a 
metabolic crisis. Have Roy come up here.##

"Ah, Cap. That won't be possible."

##Kelly? What's the hold up?##

"Just get down here, Cap. On the double." 
Kelly said and he flicked the walkie talkie's 
speaker off, his face fighting powerful emotions.

-------------

Marco had gotten Roy's collar loose. 
He saw that DeSoto was no longer getting ill
in the place Marco had guided him to away
from the river's wall. But things were far from
improving. Roy lay, pale and in denial, on 
his side, sobbing uncontrollably.

Lopez patted his shattered coworker on the shoulder. 
"It's ok. Just take it easy.We'll take it from 
here. Your nausea passing?"  

He got only a moaning half cry for a reply.

Lopez moved Roy's head to his knees to keep 
the sharp grassy brambles from cutting his face. 
"I know it. Just let it pass. You don't have to do 
anything right now."

Cap and Stoker came skidding through the 
undergrowth fully loaded with ropes, a metal 
grappling hook, and a small folded body bag 
between them. 

They halted in shock at the sight of Roy, curled 
fetal, going to pieces.

Kelly and Marco didn't have to explain anything
to them at all when Hank saw the little girl they
had seen. His own face twisted in pain.  

Cap crouched by Roy and added his own 
comforting hand to DeSoto's shoulder. "Easy, pal.
You don't have to do this at all. We'll handle it.
Marco, stay with him for a moment. "
And he rose back onto his feet. 
Cap swallowed. He motioned to Mike.
"Stoker, get her down from there."  
His eyes never left the dead child's 
place in the partially submerged tree. "We're not 
losing her again." and he handed off all his gear 
to the engineer. "Kelly, go back up the hill and 
help Johnny any way you can. You're taking 
over for Roy."

"R- Right.." and Chet bounded up the hill.  "Roy, you
get yourself together, ok.. You hear me.." he said as he 
disappeared. Chet stumbled once but then got to the 
highway a few seconds later.

After a notification to L.A. for a morgue team and the
D.A.'s office, Cap shooed Marco off to help Stoker 
recover the tiny pitiful body.

Hank closed his eyes and made sure Roy didn't see 
their awkward retrieval using the hook either, by 
screening out DeSoto's sight of it with his captain's 
helmet.

It could have been ten minutes or ten years later
to Stanley when it was finally done.

The morning sun was a little bit higher in the brilliant 
sky, a few minutes later. Hank began to speak 
quietly to his heart wounded friend, sharing a like 
story of when his own shell had finally cracked 
under strain in honor of a dead child's memory. 
It did little to lessen Roy's grief. He still shook, 
gasping like a fish, no longer able to voice sounds.
  
Cap sighed compassionately and softly, he whispered. 
"Roy. We're all here for ya. It's ok. Just let it out." 
and he drew his senior crewman up into a hug.

Stanley let him cry for a long time. 

Privately, Cap let down a shadow of his past grief .
He allowed tears of his own to fill his chocolate eyes. 
Silently, unchecked, they fell onto his jacket, rolled off its 
hem, and into the L.A. river below.

----------------------------------------------
Gage looked up impatiently as Chet knelt
where the hiker now lay. He was irritatedly
biting the IV Dex bag covering off on the
solution he had been ordered to give the 
downed hiker. "Here. Get this set up."
he said thrusting the IV into Chet's hands.
"Where'd you all go to? Took forever getting 
him to settle down. Fortunately, he's deep 
into diabetic crisis now and no longer seizing."

Kelly was quiet.

Johnny didn't even think to guess the reason why. He
asked. "Where's Roy? We gotta get this man
NPA intubated yesterday."And he began to take 
another hasty BP on their victim.

"He's not coming." Chet said, stringing the IV tubing
and stabbing its port valve lance into the bag he
had set between his knees.

"What do ya mean he's not coming?" Gage snapped.
"We've got a major medical here. He oughta know
any body we find's last priority." Johnny said, pulling
the stethoscope out of his ears.

Chet held Johnny's hand that was holding the IV 
needle still for a moment, to get his full attention.
"Johnny, Roy cracked. Cap's down there now
deciding whether or not to stretcher him outta
there."

"What?! Chet, you must be talking crazy..."

"Wish I was, Johnny boy. I hope to g*d I was.
Anything,.. but the bad scene I just witnessed 
down there."

Gage fought mentally with himself, warring over
his care of the hiker and his own desire to whip
out his HT to demand of Cap how Roy was doing.
He attempted to console himself with trying to peer 
over the side of the steep grassy embankment. 
The next words out of his mouth were barely 
audible..  "Is he awake?"

"What, ....this guy?" Chet asked, looking down,
beginning to do a pain stimulus check.

Gage gripped his hand and stopped him.
"No, I'm talking about Roy.."

"Oh. Yeah, he is. But he lost his breakfast,.. and 
maybe last night's dinner, too. Johnny, he's 
not even standing."

"Gonna get shocky." Gage mumbled to himself,
suddenly redirected.

"Roy?"

"No, our victim here. Chet, pay attention."
Gage said angrily. "This next step's gonna be 
tricky. Now lube this NPA down with the K-Jelly. 
I've already measured this to be the right size 
airway. And get that positive pressure handy.
His lack of glucose is gonna knock out his
respirations something fierce."

"Gage I don't know about this.." Chet said.
"Maybe you'd better call in another sq-"

Johnny grabbed Chet by his jacket lapels
and snatched him close until he was only
inches away from his face.
"You wanted to know if I thought you were
medic material? Medic trainees follow orders
INSTANTLY from their senior trainers and they
never EVER second guess a medical order.
I ordered you to prepare that NPA tube.
Even told you how to do it. So do it! Now!" 
and he let his overcoat go.

"Geez, all right already. I'm just as worried
about Roy as you are. No need to beat me up
over it.  You'll have ta tell me more on what to do
here though. Been rocky ever since I've been 
ordered to take over to help ya in Roy's 
place."

Gage glared at him and arrowed his spent IV
needle into free flight, not caring that the 
bloody thing whistled by only a centimeter 
from Chet's ear as it clattered home into 
the drug box's waste needle catch bin.
"You've got thirty seconds.. I'm not repeating 
myself."

"Ah,, Ok..  ok.. which side..?" Chet said,
positioning the end of the soft nasopharyngeal
airway near the hiker's nasal passages.

"Try the right side nare first. Don't force it."

Chet nimbly got it into place, doing all the right
moves and techniques, sending the airway down
flat, along the palate as it should have been done.

Johnny smiled, handing Chet the positive pressure
mask. "See, you HAVE been watching us.
You'll still have to keep his head back for a clear
airway and be prepared to yank it out if he vomits."

"That much I remember Gage. What now?"
Chet said. "He's breathing fine." he said, letting
the man pull his own oxygen off the mask.

"What's his rate?" Gage said, adjusting the D5W
flow into the man's veins.

"Ten, and slowing."

"You know to ventilate him if he slips
below eight a minute?"

"Yeah."

"What's his color?" he said, drawing a blood
vial for a glucose check, for Rampart.

Chet peeled away the man's oddly sunburned lips
until he saw his gums. "Pink. Look Johnny.
I could go back down there now and see how Roy's
doing for ya you know. You are in charge of me
up here.."

It was tempting but Johnny knew his responsibilities.
"Nice try. But we're gonna have to trust the
other guys' judgement on that. Roy's probably just
reacting now because he didn't react yesterday.
It's most likely no big deal."

"You didn't see him, Gage.." Chet said in the tiniest
of voices. It was full of fear.

Johnny looked up, his attention full and frightened.

------------------------------------------------------
Cap heard a voice call out. It was Stoker's.
"Ready to move, Cap." 

It must have been some minutes later, for when
Hank blinked, he saw the black body bag nestled
in a scoop stokes that Marco had retrieved from 
the engine. The bundle was already tied and rope 
tethered for a hill climb back up to the roadway. 

Roy, was now some feet away, dry eyed, 
sitting and hugging his knees to his chest, 
with his back to the body, staring out at the 
brightly sunlit flowing river bed below.

"Stoker, you and Lopez go on ahead. Have Johnny 
go on alone in the ambulance with the hiker if you 
have to and tell Chet to take in the squad. Roy's 
coming with us." Hank told Mike. "But, you're giving
us two, a minute or so alone. Get me only if Johnny 
needs another rescue squad to finish the transport, 
and when you're done picking up after yourselves.
Tell the detectives whatever they need to know. 
I'm out of service for a bit. Understood?"

"Right, Cap." and the dry crackle of the grass
told Stanley that the grisly trip up had begun. 
Soon, even that soft rustling faded away.

The ambulance came, then went, with
the squad behind it. Soon, even those sounds fell
into the distance too.  Not long after, the mortuary 
wagon and an unmarked detective car
pulled up, to take away the child's body and to learn
the information necessary for the bus investigation
from Marco and Stoker. 

Hank's talkie came to life. ##Engine 51, to HT 51.
All the gear's stowed. Want us to put the Engine
available?"##

Hank lifted up his talkie and said. 
"When we're base bound, Engine 51."

##10-4, HT 51.## came Lopez's reply. And
the station frequency fell silent.

Rubbing his mouth, Cap could see Mike and Marco
watching them from where they sat in the idling 
engine cab, waiting. He flashed them an okay sign
without radioing back. He saw them visibly relax.  

Cap sat by Roy, not directly looking at him, 
as he took in the same spectacular view of 
the valley over the concrete river bed that 
Roy seemed to be looking at. He took in a 
deep breath of the canyon's sweet, spicy air. 
"Hear that, Roy? The birds are still singing..."

Roy swung red, swollen eyes towards him. 
"Hear what, Cap? All I hear are the sounds 
of all those school kids, screaming, as that 
hill came down on top of them. I just
wanna know why it had to happen. That's all.
Is that too much for a guy to ask for?"
But Roy didn't cry again. His face remained 
only dusty and flushed.

Cap handed DeSoto back his helmet and
slowly put on his own. "Come on, let's go."
he said, grabbing a hold of Roy's gloved hand
to pull him to his feet. "We'll take the engine 
home."

DeSoto clasped Cap's dirty hand numbly,
and then used its strong steady leverage until 
he stood. Cap watched Roy put on his helmet 
only after he seemed to contemplate the 
purpose for which it served, for long, unseeing 
moments.  Then he saw Roy sigh a lengthy
quavering breath. Roy's face was now a little 
less pale but his voice was weaker than a baby's.
He murmured. "Yeah. Let's get outta here."

Cap, threw a stokes blanket around Roy's
shoulders and together, they went up the hill
to the road.

-----------------------------------------------------

Photo : Marco feeding Henry goodies on the couch.

Photo : Roy looking sick, in the sun.

Photo : Children covered in mud in a pond.

*************************************
Date: Wed, 15 Jan 2003 10:34:05 -0800 (PST) 
From: "Patti or Jeff or Cassidy" <voyagerliveaction@yahoo.com>  
Subject:  Come Uppance... 


It was four hours after the L.A. river call.

Marco Lopez looked up from where he was
dishing out chow for Henry. The longish hound
was snuffling excitedly as the Rival can of dog food
filled his chrome dish. All the guys were watching
him get worked up. And some of them even had
their fingers crossed for luck while Marco finished.

Stoker, ignoring their "sport", was the first 
to see Cap enter the kitchen. "How's he doing, Cap?"

"Roy? Still resting. I did order him to take a nap.  And
yes, I explained to Joanne what happened and then 
called the crisis counselor just a few minutes ago. 
She's coming for a station visit, and she's towing 
along Roy's wife. They'll one to one with him first 
and then we'll get our session over dinner as 
planned." Hank announced. He knelt and petted 
Henry as the dog licked his lips in anticipation of 
supper.

"That's good. Maybe ..having Joanne around will
help Roy get back his equilibrium." Kelly said
thoughtfully, arching his balled up snack napkin
into a wide shot for the trash bin. It landed
perfectly.

"I know it will." Cap said empathetically, rubbing
some dust out of his nose.

The gang fell to the moment as the salty scent
of horsemeat filled the air. "Do it Lopez.." Stoker
said with anticipation. "This time it's gotta work."

Marco carefully set down the dish gingerly, as if
jarring it would cause Henry to lose interest.
"There you go, Henry. Dive in."

The slowish hound looked up, licked Marco's face,
jumped down from the leather couch, almost
on top of the food bowl, and then he kept right 
on truckin forward and straight out the kitchen 
door. 

"Hey, where are you going ya crazy mutt?!" Kelly
said from where he was sipping coffee at the kitchen
table. "What a schmo...Geez, that's two cans of
grub now, slated for the trash can.."

Hank only chuckled. "You forgot Henry's a true 
station dog there, Kelly." Cap grinned. "Can't you see
he's making a house call? It's more important than
food to him."

"Yeah, Chet. He does it all the time whenever one of us
is feeling out of it." Marco said, retucking his shirt in around
his belt. He had just come out of the shower. 

Johnny neatly rose to his feet, abandoning his
coffee mug. "That's my cue.. Excuse me guys. I'm
right on Henry's angle.." and Gage, too, exited the
kitchen for the bunk dorms. On a second thought,
he grabbed a couple of donuts on the way out,
one for him and a second one for Roy.


Gage noticed that Cap had pulled all the 
shades down around Roy's bunk and had 
even set a water pitcher on the desk
tabletop with a paper already opened to the horse
racing section next to it. 

Gage smiled when he heard Roy stir in his 
sheets to play with Henry. Respectfully, he 
knocked on the wooden doorframe first 
before he entered the room further. "Roy?" 

"Yeah, Johnny. I'm awake.." his partner said.
"Didn't anybody feed Henry yet? He's acting like
he wants his bowl now."

Gage walked into the room and grabbed the
chair from the desk, inverted it, and straddled
it to sit. "Now, Roy, you know Henry won't eat for
anyone else but you. And we're dumb enough
to keep forgetting that. He turned his finicky nose 
up again at Marco just a minute ago when he
opened a can right under his face. You sure got 
a way with dogs."

Roy's face unexpectedly fell at Johnny's comment.
and he stopped petting Henry's broad back.
"Yeah, well. I wish I had a way with children right
about now. Lately my luck's been running kinda dry."

Johnny scoffed gently. "Now what's that supposed
to mean? You got two wonderful kids who're incredibly
proud to call ya dad. You got a beautiful wife.
That's more than what I got. What more can a man 
want?"

"To turn back the clock for starters. How about
turning it back about..oh,...forty eight hours or so.
Then I'd truly be a happy man, Johnny." Roy
said, with a groan. He flopped back onto his
back and drew his sheets up to his chest as
if chilled suddenly in his T shirt and boxers.

"Roy, cut it out. You shouldn't be ashamed of
your emotions. What happened out there today,
happens to all of us. H*ll, Cap's been there. He just
told us when and why over coffee a few minutes ago. 
And I bet if we took a poll, we'd find that there isn't 
a single guy on the rosters who hasn't been 
in the same shoes you wore this morning." Johnny 
said. "I'm not immune either. I've been there.
Remember? I lost it only two weeks into the 
paramedic program.."

Roy regarded Gage quietly for long seconds,
"Not everyone, Johnny." A slight smile curled 
his lips,  "What about Craig Brice?"
 
"Oh, yeah.." Johnny chuckled. "Brice. Forgot about
him. How can a man without sense of humor
find something about our line of work that'll make 
him lose his lunch? Brice sure can't. He's an Iron Man." 
Johnny  grumbled, answering his own question. "Maybe 
he should team up with Detello at ten's for a while and 
learn something about compassion." Johnny took
a bite from his donut, then belated remembered that
he had already bitten into the first one. Lamely, 
he offered the pastry to Roy.

DeSoto took it, and began offering the pieces wearing 
Johnny's tooth marks to the snuffling Henry who had 
sprawled his heavy weight across Roy's legs. "Here, buddy.
Yeah, that's a good boy.." and he smacked Henry's hide
loudly in affection. The rest, he popped into his mouth.

"Nausea finally gone?" Johnny asked.

Roy looked up, almost as if he had forgotten his
partner was there. "Yeah, that anti-emetic you gave
me worked." he said chewing slowly. "Who authorized 
that?"

"Joe Early. He knew what you had been up against 
yesterday. And understood the need for the
hypo today."

"Does everybody know about ...what happened to me?"
Roy asked quietly, caressing Henry's ear as the dog
snoozed in his lap.

"Only those who care a whip about ya." Gage quipped.
Then he leaned forward, lacing his fingers together.
"Listen, Roy, so what if it took six years for you to
finally crack on a call. Big deal. You're a human
being. It means that you care.."

"Yeah, maybe I care a little too much." Roy said 
softly.

Johnny rubbed his mouth in frustration 
and then he got angry."Oh, boy, here we 
go again. You didn't make that driver hit the 
bus. You didn't cause that canyon wall to come
caving in on us. And unless you're really Moses,
I know you didn't cause that rain storm to
flood us out like it did. So knock off the pity pit.
A paramedic's GOT to have empathy. H*ll. You're
the one who taught me that.." he sat 
back with exasperation.

Roy was silent for a time. Then he said.
"I'm thinking about leaving the program
Johnny. I really think I can't hack it any more."
he pointed to the uniform that Cap had folded
neatly on the dresser and said. "I really don't
know if I can ever get myself to wear that
uniform again. Ever. It now hurts too much.."
and his lip quavered.

Johnny showed no sympathy.
"You're just saying that. Now what would I do
in a few months if Kelly kept good on his threat 
and suddenly became my new partner?"
Johnny asked drily.

Roy finally smiled and laughed. "You two'd 
probably, most likely kill each other the first
week out."

"There ya go.." Johnny said. "So don't leave
me in that kind of spot. And quit talkin like
that. You're just hurting, that's all. You're not
disabled. A little time taken with the family
will make it all right again."

"Now you're sounding like Cap." Roy said.

"Good, cause he's right. And that's what
he said worked for him when he cracked 
over his own child call."

Roy sat up. "You know something Gage?"

"What..?" Gage said, curling Henry's tail
and scratching its white furred tip until Henry 
picked up his head to see who was messing
with it. Henry's tail started wagging when he
saw who it was.

"You're right. M- Maybe that's all I'll need.
A little time off. Just enough ta.. get my clear
thinking back again and maybe I'll even find 
that sense of inner balance that I had before.. "
he said, grinning.

"That's the ticket.." Johnny beamed, 
taking another bite out of his donut.

"No, wait a minute, I can't go on leave."

"Why not? You got enough vacation time
coming to ya. As long as I've known ya, you've
only been on vacation twice. Once to Santa Rosa
with me, and the other time when you took
Joanne and the kids to the f--" he broke
off.

"You can say it, Johnny. Farm. I'm not mad
at you over that any more. I mean who can
control circumstance?"

"And that's it right there, Roy. On your coming
days off, hold that thought and you think about
it, real hard.." With that, Gage disappeared, 
leaving the rest of his donut abandoned on the 
bedspread.

Roy blinked, amazed that Johnny could move
so fast. And that, in itself, made him think all
the more about Roy DeSoto.  Johnny's cool advice
and Henry's warm tongue on his fingers, made 
him mull over what was really the most 
important thing going on in his life apart from 
his family.

Sighing, Roy picked up the donut and began 
doling out the correct pieces to the proper 
mouths. Then, feeling thirsty, he reached 
for the water container.

And a bit later, after a long tearful talk with
the crisis counselor and Joanne,....

...Roy DeSoto reached for his uniform..

----------------------------------------------

It was a week later. And the gang on A shift
finally felt like they were a whole crew again.

Roy DeSoto was back on the job.

But Gage sighed and didn't even turn around when
he felt Roy sit on the locker room bench next
to him and opened his locker.

"Mornin.." Roy said cheerily. He broke off into 
a jaunty whistling tune. One he knew would
irritate Johnny.

Gage didn't reply. He just changed in silence.

"What's the problem, Johnny? An explosion
knock out your ears or something? I'm back."

"Good for you Roy. I'm proud ya made
the right decision." Johnny said finally. "But frankly,
I'm really depressed right now if you have to know."

"Why? Got a reason to be?"

"Yeah. A good one. Guess who replaced you while
you and Joanne and the kids were having it
up in Florida."

"No, ..don't tell me..."

"Yeah.. Craig Brice.." Johnny said putting on his work
shoes. He was so worked up, that he broke a
shoelace.

Roy was kind enough not to laugh and wordlessly,
he handed his partner a package of new ones
that he knew Johnny hadn't had the foresight 
to buy from the drugstore.

"Thanks." Johnny said and he unlaced the old and
did up the replacement deftly. "I'll tell you
why else I'm depressed. We had a new trainee."
 
"Chet didn't.." Roy interjected, his eyes getting real big.

"No, .." Johnny sighed. "Chet didn't. He got an 
earful of just what kinds of things we paramedics go 
through from Detello and company and chickened 
out on taking any ride alongs. That delayed him enough
that he blew his chance to train in the field this quarter
with a squad. He's gonna have to wait until next year to 
enroll if he's still interested since the next batch of classes 
have already begun." Johnny said.

"Then why are you so glum?  You didn't have your
paramedic partner trainee from h*ll." Roy asked.

"I had a new .... " and he sighed. "..GIRL trainee. And 
you'll never guess who it was."

"Who?"

"Brice's cousin."

"Brice has a cousin?"

"Yeah, and she's nearly as bossy and analytical as
he is. Why, we weren't even ten feet out the door
on our first run, when she suddenly started quoting
rules and regs at me. Said my helmet was too big."

"It is. Didn't you learn your lesson when it fell off
your head after that monkey virus got to you on 
that scaffolding?" Roy said drolly.

Johnny blinked. "Would ya look at that. Hey guys..
Would ya look at that?!" he shouted through the
kitchen door. "My best bud, my partner to whom I
entrust life and limb, agrees with the comments 
from that annoying probie!!"

Naturally, there was no reply from the gang
in the kitchen.

"You couldn't have been suffering that
badly last week,  Johnny.."

"Oh, really. Pray tell why..."

"Henry's not here.." and Roy closed his locker
door calmly and left for breakfast.

------------------------------------------------

They had just about finished the pancakes when
a station call came out.
 
##Station 51, Station 10, Truck 127. Battalion 14. 
......School fire at Roosevelt Elementary....##

Roy's heart skipped a beat. "Oh no.. Not again."

Johnny said as he snatched up his jacket.
"Roy, now you're gonna do just fine. It's most
likely just a false alarm again. Now, come on,
let's go.."

##....13000 Technology Drive. 13000 Technology Drive.
Cross street, Maple. Time out, 9:57.##

"L.A., 10-4. This is Station 51. KMG 365." Stoker replied
in communications acknowledgement.

They rolled out..

---------------------------------------------------------

Photo: John sitting in a chair with Henry..

Photo: Roy in closeup, asleep.

Photo : Roy driving the squad, looking right at you.

*****************************************
 From:  "Roxy Dee" <laterrapincabesa@hotmail.com> 
Date:  Wed Jan 15, 2003  5:44 pm
Subject:  The Call of Angels~~

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Station 51 pushed the envelope to arrive on
on scene. As it was, they were the first.

A stumbling, smoke stained janitor ran out of the building
and was met by a throng of teachers who were trying
to control their classrooms of children calmly and
collectively. They caught him as he fell and lowered him
to the ground.

One moustached balding superintendant grabbed
him by the arms."Charlie! Now that was plumb stupid.
The building's clear. You didn't have to go back 
in there. No boiler's valuable enough for that."

Charlie, silver haired and Asian, just coughed, gripping
his chest. "Yes... I ...did...sir. The water heater and
the gas line's the next room over.. If they go.. The
northside classrooms are still evacuating
Aghh.. My chest!!" and he gasped, then gurgled.

The superintendant heard sirens and looked up to
see a fire department rescue squad screech to a halt
on the street a safe distance away from the school.


Gage and DeSoto stepped out to the nearest bunch
of teachers. Frightened kids milled about everywhere.
"What's the situation here?" Johnny asked one of
them. 

The young substitute teacher said. "There's a fire in
the basement. Boiler room according to Charlie.
There's a lot of chemicals stored in there."

Johnny ran along to the cab and shouted to Cap
and the gang who had just pulled up the red
pumper, spewing long hose. "Cap!  Substructure.
And chemicals!"

"I want everybody in full SCBA! " Cap waved on
Vince and two other police cars to begin crowd
control. Then he contacted L.A. through his hand
held radio. "L.A. We've got smoke showing from
a two story brick building. Assign a third alarm 
assignment."

##10-4, 51. ## And the fire captain heard the
dispatcher assign two other stations to the call.

Then a teacher ran up to Cap and hung onto his
arm. "Listen. They're still people trying to get
out on the north side. And we've a man hurt!"
she said.

"Where?"

"He's in the parking lot.." she coughed.

"You ok, maam?" Cap said.

"I'm fine. Just a little smoke. I gotta get
back to my kids.." she shouted and fled
his grip.

Cap looked around and saw Gage and DeSoto
already air bottled and connecting hose to
the yellow hydrants on the block. "Gage!
DeSoto! There's a victim over there. Check
it out!"   

He saw his men look up and see where
he was pointing.

Then he called for four ambulances
judging from the number of coughing 
kids he could see crying and sitting on the 
curbsides.

Johnny and Roy abandoned what they
were doing to grab their medical gear.

Chet and Marco took over their task of
charging the hoses.

Johnny grabbed the O2 and the biophone
while Roy got the drug and IV boxes.
"Cap! We're on it.." 

They soon found the superintendant with
Charlie the janitor, who was now unconscious.
Johnny reached for the man's neck. 
"Thready. Might be his heart."

The superintendant nodded. "He did say his
chest hurt him. I guess he was in the fire too
long.."

"I'll patch him in.." Roy said, unbuttoning
the man's shirt while Johnny set him on
some oxygen. He looked up while he 
fastened the EKG leads to the janitor's
chest. "Listen, sir.. Do you know if everybody
made it out?"

The superintendant, distracted by the melee
of panicking children and teachers just
mumbled. "I- I don't know. I.. some of the
staff seems to think the classrooms on the
north side were still trying to make it out."

Roy made a decision.. "Johnny. I can't wait.
You got things here?"

Gage looked up from the BP he was taking on
the man. His face filled with doubt about Roy's
plans but then he nodded when his ears picked
up the sound of Station Ten pulling up into
the smoky school yard. "Bring someone with
you.."

"Cap, I'm going in to help with the evacuation!"
DeSoto called out.

"Grab a man from 10!" Cap said, waving him
on while he filled Battalion Fourteen in on the
situation.

Roy ran to the open aired engine just pulled up.
He waved the station's medics on, "A heart case,
near the basketball court..Johnny's with him now.
Go. Move.. We have all the gear you'll need."

10's paramedics ran.

Then he tapped the nearest fireman's shoulder from
the bunch pulling hose from the fire engine. The
big man turned around. It was Detello.

"Well, if it isn't DeSoto. What's up?, er, besides
the obvious.." he said with a fleeting smile. But
already he was all business.

"Evac.. on the north side, Come on..!" Roy said.

Detello took his cue from the men from 51 running
around with air bottles and he took his own, with
an axe and door markers. On a thought, he
grabbed an asbestos blanket.

"What's with that?" Roy asked as they ran towards
the smoking building.

"Just a hunch, Roy. Can't explain it."

DeSoto and Detello put on their face masks and
entered the building. They arrived just in time to
help one last teacher make it to the sunlight.
Detello gave her some air through his mask
as they helped her to her kids in the clearer
air.

They set her on the ground. "Just keep breathing
a few on this.." Detello told her. "You'll be fine."

The young teacher pulled it away. "I'm missing
Cindy. Oh my g*d."

A stab ran through Roy's stomach and his
world dimmed. He looked up at the building
from which flames now rose and a chemical
stench. ::Ammonia..::

He heard Detello question the woman and soon,
they got hasty directions to that classroom.

The big firefighter waved over an arriving fire
station to take care of the woman and he
and DeSoto put back on their masks and
helmets and both ran back to the door they
had just gone through getting out. Detello
still carried the asbestos blanket, like a 
football.

Roy smacked Detello's arm. "Which way?"

"Left! Down the hall. First room on the right
by the stairwell. Watch the right. It's a door
leading to the sub basement. Bound to be hot!"

Roy got on his hand radio and told the Batallion
station they were searching for a victim and
where.

They entered a third grade class room which
was barely visible in the smoke. "Hey! can
anybody hear me!" Detello shouted. 

Roy and he searched and upturned desks
hastily, crouching low enough to the floor
so they could see their boots and any
body they might find. 

The heat, was oppressive and they could hear 
the sizzle in the air from the leaking ammonia 
creating thicker gases and smoke near the ceiling.

The noise of flames and the alarm bells forced
Detello and Roy to use hand signals to communicate
while they searched both that classroom and
the next.  Roy paused at each door and closed it,
after marking it with a search slash when they
were through.

"She couldn't have gone far.. The exit's right there.."
Roy said in frustration through his mask.

Detello's head snapped around at a sound only
he heard and he pushed Roy back into the lockers
and brought both of them down to the stone tiles
in the hallway. 

There was a huge explosion that ripped through the
sub basement and blew out all the classroom windows
of the school.

Cap looked up, waving on Stoker and Marco, Chet and
a man from ten's. "Take two inch and a halfs! Get 
where Roy and Detello are searching!"

Johnny Gage came running up and Cap seemed 
surprised. Johnny shrugged. "Squad Ten took him in.
I'm no longer needed. Where do you want me?"

"Go with them!" Stanley gestured, pointing out
the hoses writhing on the wet pavement from 
his men's hose teams.

Johnny fled, fastening on his air mask. 
He knew what was going on and held his radio 
near his ear. Soon, he heard the staticky tones 
of a call button being pressed in a series of three
tones. "They're all right." he gasped, slapping
Chet's back as he and the others got a powerful
covering fan into the building to begin to combat
the inferno. "They just ran a three on the radio."

Chet gave him a thumbs up and together, the
group stormed the building. The smoke was
thick and the fire belched out of cracks
in the neat brown marble floor. The firemen played
water onto these fissures and steam rose, obscuring
their view. Slowly, they advanced northwards.


Detello hauled Roy to his feet and pulled off the
asbestos blanket he had thrown over on top of
them. The paint on the lockers around them were
melted and dripping. "Let's go, irishman." Detello
grinned toothily at him. "We won't be needed this
anymore." he said and he tossed down the smoking
ruin of the blanket which had saved them from
the worst of the explosion. "I'm feeling like that's
the worst of it."

Roy shook his hand and turned where he stood. 
They resumed their room by room search. 
Then Roy halted Detello by tapping him on the back. 
"It's really hot in here. If it was hot, and I was a child, 
where would I go in a fire?"

Detello and Roy both exclaimed. "The restrooms."

They doubled back to the third grade class room
and the stairwell, which was now fully involved.
They met Chet and Marco and took a welcome
spray onto their jackets before pressing on with
a "We're ok." hand signal.

There was door barely concealed underneath the
stairwell.
Detello pointed to it. "Hit this! Hit this!" 
Marco and Chet snuffed out the tendrils of
flame beginning to threaten that entryway
and it died with a hiss.

Roy kicked in the door. It was a faculty bathroom.
"Hey.. Anybody in here?"

Detello never got into the room when the 
ceiling came down, separating them. The flaming
stairwell soon followed, and it trapped Roy away 
from Chet and Marco and Detello.

The three on the outside frantically began to hose
down the surging fire blocking the door.
"Roy! You ok in there?!"

Roy had flattened himself against the smooth
tile wall and he felt hot moisture on his face.
"That's not from the hose.." he mumbled.
and his gloves sank into a dark section of 
the room. The showers! One of them 
was on. He dragged out a flashlight 
and scrambled on his hands and knees
towards the sound of the running water.

There he found the little girl, lying motionless
beneath its stream.

He grabbed her by the shoulders and picked
her up into his arms and carried her back
into the main part of the bathroom where
the daylight from the skylight let him see
the child he held. 

He pulled off his helmet and mask and
crouched down against the wall with her,
checking. "Come on, honey. Just take a 
breath.."  She didn't.  

Roy began mouth to mouth. He couldn't
tell if she had a pulse because she was
twisted up so badly in the sweater soaked
from the shower. Roy fumbled until he
found one.  He laid her down on a sink,
onto her back, for a moment while he
worked to keep her going.
 
In between another set of breaths, Roy
got up and grabbed a steel waste can
and used it to smash out the tiny thick, 
textured bathroom window leading to the
outside. Shouts of attention from the firecrews
manned there reassured him that someone 
now knew he was trapped right there,
with a victim.

He returned to the child, taking her into his
arms and stretched her out onto the glass
sharded floor. He alternatingly took breaths 
off his own mask to give to her using his
own lungpower to keep the ammonia tainted air
out of her system. He pulled out his radio. 
"Kelly, Lopez. Hurry it up! Now would be a 
good time!"

Images flashed through Roy's mind of the bus
crash. The wet and the dark. It felt very much
like where he was now. And the tiny living
weight of the girl he fought to save was so
like the feel of the girl from the storm drain
as the water tore her away from his grasp.
Roy began to cry, shouting. "Come on..
Cindy. Come back. It's ok.. I got you.." he 
sobbed.

He again, breathed for the tiny girl from
his air supply. He kept burning shards from
landing on her clothes and he curled about 
her, using the wet on the floor to put
out the small blazes burning around them.

Then, there was a gasp, small, choking.

Cindy began to cough, then to cry..

Roy held her close. "It's ok. I'm a fireman.
We're going to get you out of here.
Keep breathing from this mask ok?" he
told her. "I'll be right back.."

The frightened girl nodded.

Roy's relief was palpable. He
rose from the floor and went to the doorway
where he saw Chet and Marco's hose water
extinguishing the fire. Soon, there was nothing
but sooty insulation and wood beams between
them. Detello kicked these away.

"Found her?" he asked, pulling off his mask.

"Yeah.. She's ok.." Roy said, staggering against
the wall. 

Detello's eyebrows went up. "Smart idea
using the showers to keep the fire off."

"It was her idea.." Roy grinned.

Detello lifted both the air bottle and the girl
from the ground and saw Cindy looking up
and coughing at him in confusion and fright.

Then he looked at Roy.
"I believe you have a rescue to complete." 
he said, grinning through the ash on his face.

Gently, he set the tiny girl into Roy's arms
for him to guard. Then he stormed back
out through the blackened doorway out
to Kelly and Marco. "Chet, Lopez! Give
us some cover. We're coming out!!"

And soon, they did.

Roy felt the sunlight on his face and the world
narrowed down to just him and his tiny victim,
still warm, alive and full of life in his arms.

He started laughing as Detello roared his
displeasure at the crowds standing between
him and where the squad's equipment was
parked. Just like that, Roy's nightmare,
was over.. "Come on, Cindy. Let's get you 
checked out. My name's Roy DeSoto and
I'm a paramedic with the L. A. County 
Fire Department. You're gonna be just fine..."

Gage met them with fresh O2 and
a live biophone and together, Roy and
his partner made sure that one tiny life,
stayed saved.

Roy thought. ::Maybe this is the feeling 
Detello keeps banking on. This, certainty,..
that everything that's meant to be, will
always turn out for the better. I'm no
angel, but right now, I certainly feel like
I'm in heaven...::

-----------------------------------------

Photos :   None.

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

  Juxtaposition  -  FIN

@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@
 
The Story Unfolds...

Season One, Episode Four..  

WITHIN SIGHT

 
*********************************
From :  "desertducks "<desertducks@uneedspeed.net>  
Subject :[EmergencyTheaterLive] Back Home  
Date : Sun, 19 Jan 2003 07:45:11 -0000  
    

The engine crew made it back to the station by nine o'clock that 
night.  "Might as well ruin one more person's evening."  Captain 
Stanley mumbled, mostly to himself, as he crossed the threshold to 
his office.  He left his door open - it felt wrong to close himself 
off from the rest of his crew.  He dropped into the chair, but shoved 
it back from the desk, leaned his head against the cool brick wall, 
and shut his eyes.

It sounded like Chet was finally running out of steam.  The banging 
noises coming from the locker room had diminished to a less jarring 
level.  Marco had gone to the kitchen first to start some fresh 
coffee.  Now they wait.

No - he still had to call in for a replacement engineer.


"Is Mike Stoker here?"

The young voice startled Captain Stanley.  He scrubbed his hands over 
his face before focusing on the boy standing in his doorway.  It was 
late for a kid to be out roaming the neighborhood alone.  He said the 
only thing he could.  "He's not here right now.  I'm Captain Stanley, 
is there something I can do for you?"  

His heart was pounding all the way here just to talk to Mike.  What 
was he going to say to the captain?  "I think..."  Not another sound 
would squeak out.  ::Great, I'm already shaking, figures my voice would 
crack too.:: He started again.  "I think I know who started that fire."
 
---------------------------------

Photos :  None.

***********************
From : "Cassidy Meyers" <killashandraRey@hotmail.com>  
Subject : [EmergencyTheaterLive] Witness  
Date : Tue, 21 Jan 2003 00:29:52 +0400  
 

Captain Stanley saw the color on the boy's face
pale and saw how worked up he really was.
"Here, son, have a seat before your knees
rubber and they drop you flat. Relax, I won't bite." 
he said, rising. He guided the boy to the 
wooden chair across from the desk and 
half heartedly peered into the bay in an 
attempt to locate whoever it was who 
let the child into the station in the first 
place. He suspected it had been Marco.
::Just like Lopez to subtly channel things 
concerning touchy run subjects my way.::
"What's your name kid? Kinda feel like I'm
at a disadvantage since I don't know yours."

"I'm.....Jeremy Conners." he said quietly.

"Would you care to share just how you 
know my fire station's engineer?"

"Mr. Stoker's my coach in the Second
Chance Little Leagues. We've been hanging
out Saturdays. Been doing so all summer."

::Oh, :: thought Hank. ::That would explain it.
Mike's doing that Big Brother program with 
the juvies through the city's foster care program.
This young fella must be one of his latest personal
reclamation projects.::

"He said I could come here if I had anything on
my mind that was bothering me. And this is."
he fidgetted. His scowling eyes never left Cap's. 

Cap saw that Jeremy was an unusual child. He
wasn't rubbernecking his surroundings like any
other boy his age would. It was as if he already 
knew what a fire station was all about. 

Hank's eyebrows rose but he put his analytical
observations to the background for a while.
"Ok, you came here to see my man Stoker for 
a reason concerning which fire? My men and I
have seen three today." He cocked his head
and gestured to the milk carton he had
set near his incident report earlier to settle his
roiling stomach. "This is still cold. Thirsty?"

Jeremy shook his head despite his nervous
dry mouth. He purposely stopped fidgetting. 

The red headed boy felt the station captain's 
eyes bore into his own with an intense scrutiny. 
"Before you make a move on me, I get out at 
night all the time from the Home so don't even 
think about calling the fuzz. I know every door 
outta here."

"Fair enough. Let me let you in on a little known 
fact about firehouses. In this office I'm not
the station's captain anymore. I'm just Hank. 
Anything you say is confidential and won't 
leave this office unless it deals with someone's 
safety, property or life and limb." Stanley said. "So,
what's eating you? Must be important if it bugged
you enough to walk all the way here for what 
I suspect was about a mile or so."

The boy's face fell open in surprise. "How'd you
know that?"

"Cause that's how far it is to the nearest
residential neighborhood past the Arco refinery
surrounding us. And, the logo on your jersey was
a dead giveway." Cap spread his arms wide
in a 'Well, what is it?' gesture.

Jeremy crossed his arms in front of his
gray baseball sweatshirt and pursed his lips.
He glanced away from Hank for the first time
since he arrived. "I gotta think about this
first."

Cap sighed wearily and grabbed his glass 
of now warmish 2% and downed it. 
"Make it fast. I'm expecting my men on the 
rescue squad back with some answers I 
need any second now. After that, I'm gonna be
too busy for off hours visitors. So make up your
mind pronto. Who started what fire?"

Jeremy countered. "Why isn't Mike Stoker here?
That engine's filthy. He'd be the first one at
it with a rag to clean it off.."

It was Cap's face that betrayed him this time 
and he went from tough act to vulnerable in a pico. 
"He's..well, I gotta break it somehow since you say 
Mike's your friend, Jeremy. Our last fire injured him 
when the roof caved in and trapped him apart from 
his hose team.  In trying to get out, a steam pipe he
didn't see burst in front of him and burned his
eyes through his air mask pretty bad. Caught his
throat and lungs too."

Jeremy held really still. "That's the fire I'm talking
about then if the roof came down. Is..is..Mike going
to be blind?" he asked in a very small voice.

Cap toyed with his empty glass thoughtfully and hid
his emotion. "I don't know yet about that. I'm
just glad he's still here. It took us a while to get him 
going again. That other answer, I'm going to get 
from my two paramedics the moment they get back 
to base. "

"They were the ones who got him out?"

"Yeah. Because another man of mine couldn't
do it on his own."

".. That was..Kelly, Max said." Jeremy mumbled, 
barely audible.

Cap's eyes narrowed when he heard that inadvertant
tidbit. "You know Chet Kelly?"

"He comes to our games with Coach every other
weekend to try and sell hotdogs to the folks
who come to watch us play. He doesn't know
me, but I know him. What a weirdo."

Cap threw his jaw to the side in half irritation
and no humor. "Ok, so you were at the last
fire call or heard about it, if you knew that Chet 
didn't do so well saving the hour tonight because 
he freaked out a little. So it should be real easy 
now to tell me who torched that abandoned 
building then, wouldn't it?"

"Not gonna BE easy."

"Why not? You're here. And I won't say who
told me who. Witness/FireCaptain confidentiality,
remember?"

"Cause I may die for it, that's why. Listen high
and mighty man, forget I ever came.." and 
Jeremy Conners shot up from the chair and 
darted out the office door.

"Jeremy! Hey! Wait!!"
Hank ran after the boy but the child was faster.  
Jeremy slammed on the garage door release 
button and he logrolled on through the narrow 
space that was opening before Hank could grab 
his torn pair of blue Adidas sneakers to stop 
him. 

Cap was left standing in the driveway surrounded 
by cricket calls and summer moonlight when the 
shed doors finally snicked fully open. There was no 
sign of the boy, only the sight and sounds of traffic 
on the boulevard winking in and out 
under the blue streetlights. Cap set his hands
on his hips in utter frustration and leaned on
the flag pole to hide his emotions as they
rose to the surface yet again. ::Mike Stoker
you hang in there.::

A rising soft night wind made the flags on the
chains over him ring on the steel pole and 
Cap jumped, looking up. It hit home that Mike
might not be there anytime soon to man the 
flag pole each day as he usually did. Slowly,
Cap took down the state and department 
banners into his arms and tied off the chain.

He alarmed himself when he found his hands 
folding the flags into neat perfect memorial 
triangles. ::He's not dead yet stupid. And there's
no way in h*ll this eye thing is going to make Mike
retire if he does by some miracle, recover.::

In defiance, Cap rolled the silky flags into a ball
and sank down with them in his lap with the pole 
at his back. He was quite alone when he 
started weeping.

------------------------------------------------

Chet Kelly sat down at the kitchen table with 
the engine's small first aid kit and he cracked
it open.

Lopez set down a coffee mug in front of Kelly
with a thunk. He opened his mouth.

"Not another word, Lopez." Chet warned, 
wincing as he examined the bloody knuckles 
he had on both hands. Kelly fought with kerlix
and tape for long moments until he said. "J*sus 
Chr*st already. I give up. Just what 
kind of fireman am I turning into? I can't even 
bandage my own knuckles here."

Lopez pulled up a chair next to Kelly and took
over the task. "Let me do that. Oo, Chet, these
are going to be sore. Whydidya have to go
at the punching bag so hard? No one's blaming
you about what happened tonight. It was an
accident. Old buildings fall down when they're 
on fire. It's a fact of life."

Chet grimaced. "Ahh!. Go easy on that 
mecurachrome. It's stinging! Tell me something
Marco. Is it a fact of life that I panicked in there?
It's not like me to lose my head in a crisis, I just..." 
and he shuddered. "I just...didn't like the mess 
that pipe made of Mike's face."

"You did all the right things Chet. You kept
him breathing until we got him outta there. And
Johnny and Roy got the perfect EOA in fast
enough. Your hesitating those few moments
won't amount to anything.. It was chaos in
that room you guys were in. I know, I was
up there."

"How can you know that for a fact Lopez?
We couldn't even look at Mike's eyes to
see if they were responsive--" and Kelly's
voice cracked. Marco didn't say anything
and he put his hand on Chet's shoulder in 
comfort as he got up to go find Cap. 
"Here, drink this.. It'll make you feel better."
He said shoving his untouched coffee mug in
front of Chet.

"No thanks.. Not by a long shot. I'll puke."

"Cap said the same thing.." Marco mumbled
numbly, as he went out the kitchen door.
"I'm gonna go see if Gage or DeSoto called
Cap yet from Rampart."

Chet sat morosely in his chair and slowly
cradled his bandaged hands and nodded silently.

------

Marco saw that the boy he had let in was gone
already and that Cap's office was vacant.
The yawning bay doors were open to
the night air and Marco could just barely make out
Cap's silhouette in the drive under the station's 
front spot light by the flag pole.

Marco was heading in that direction when the squad
appeared, honking its horn in greeting. Roy waved,
turning on its reds in order to make the backup 
maneuver necessary through the busy traffic, 
to park her.

Cap rose to his feet when he saw Roy and Johnny 
returning and he wiped his face quickly before either 
they or Marco, noticed.

Johnny called out. "Hey Cap, such service."
he said gesturing to the open doors, he grinned.

"Cut the small talk Gage. How is he?"

Johnny and Roy both saw how deeply worried
Hank was and how quiet Marco seemed,
watching him. The false humor Johnny had tried to
simulate fell away instantly..

Roy paused the squad in the drive and leaned
an elbow in the window. The wash of the spinning
reds in the darkness cast harsh lines on his face 
as he said...

------------------------

Photo :  Chet Marco and Cap looking serious.

Photo : The station house at night.

Photo : A red head freckled boy with a buzz cut in closeup.

Photo : Johnny and Roy in the squad at night.

Photo : Mike Stoker on the mike near the engine cab.

********************************** 
From:  Katherine Bird <kathbird01@y...> 
Date:  Fri Jan 31, 2003  7:49 pm
Subject:  The Spare Boots

"He's alive. He's still breathing ok. They took
him up to ICU for a full evaluation." Roy said slowly.

"And his blood gases are still good considering
the burns he took into his trachea. Amazingly, his chest
is clear, Cap. Maybe the airmask helped a little keeping 
some of that steam from the pipe, out of his lungs.
I kinda figured that when the EOA went in slicker
than--" Gage said.

"And what about his eyes? Did uh, Brackett
mention anything about his eyes?" Cap asked 
a little too quickly, betraying his worry. Then he
added, "I was told that roof coming down
was no coincidence.."

Gage and DeSoto were taken aback
by how vulnerable Hank's voice sounded. And
by the expression on Marco's face standing in
the garage bay entrance, haunted and 
worn. "Cap.." Johnny asked. "Wh- what's going
on? You know something we don't?" he
said, getting out of the squad. He tossed
his helmet into the seat and vaulted over
the hood in a butt skid to get to his side faster.

Roy stayed where he was, hands on the steering
wheel, engine idling, in the drive. He switched 
off the reds when Marco waved the outside 
spotlights a little higher so everyone could
see in the darkness and DeSoto,too, took off his
helmet, looking scared.

 Lopez joined Johnny, Roy and Cap's group around
the squad when he over heard Cap's matter
of fact comment.

The warm night wind lifted the slack chain on the empty
flag pole and the soft sound itself cut right through
Hank and he looked up at it unconsciously. 
Cap fidgetted. "Roy, just finish backing it in there.
Us gawking out here like this looks bad. I'll wait until
ya get back out here. " Hank watched as DeSoto 
parked the squad. Then he shouted. 
"Kelly, front and center!" yelled into the open garage. 
Running footsteps told him he had been heard.

Chet jogged out of the kitchen, holding a dish
towel over his hands and around the metal 
coffee pot and mug he had been drying. 

All five firemen stood in a circle by the empty
flag pole, tense and worried while Captain Stanley 
waited for the auto close shed doors to be fully 
shut over the vehicles. That rumble faded away,
leaving behind cricketsong when Cap finally 
began to speak. "We had a witness tonight.."

"A witness?" Gage said.
"Oh, so that's who he was..." Lopez said.
"Who was who?" Chet asked.
"Cap, how'd you find anybody so fast?"
Roy asked.
"That's what I'd like to know.." Gage said.

Cap held up his hands. "Wait a minute. Wait a
minute. Just hold up here.. I'm getting to that.
Everybody, just hush.. and that's an order.."

The crickets reigned once more.

Cap sighed and lowered his head, planting
his hands on his hips. "I have it on a good
source that our derelict warehouse fire was
actually a case of malicious arson.."
Hank raised his chin when his men started
to talk all at once again so he raised his
voice that much louder. "Just wait a sec. 
If I get any louder, the whole world'll
hear." Cap said, eyeing a convertible with
curious college kids driving by, rubbernecking 
at the sight of the usually invisible firemen 
standing in the drive.  

Gage noticed the car too, with startlement, and 
he quieted. He didn't even look up when one of 
the more attractive students waved a flirting 
hand at him. "Hey Johnny..." she purred.

Her innocent catcall as they passed the station
seemed vile to Cap and very soon, they were
gone. ::What a time for one of Gage's conquests
to make an appearance.:: Cap thought. 
His office seemed suddenly a more tempting 
sanctuary. He felt his mouth move. "My
information source knows the party who did
it and you're not going to like it."

"What, Cap? Was the fire gang related?"
Johnny asked.

"No, a group of minors started it."

Chet, Marco and Gage's faces screwed
up in discomfort at the news and they all hid
it badly.

"Just how young, Cap?" Chet asked, wincing
when Johnny grabbed the coffee pot and mug out
of Kelly's hands looking for a steaming drink.

"Nine or ten years old.. from what I was told. Two 
kids, at least, for sure."

Gage said, "Wonderful. Just wait until Mike
wakes up and we tell him a bunch of kids KO'd
him." He then addressed Chet's earlier
irregular reaction. "What's wrong with you...?" 
he said.

"Nothin.." Kelly said.

"Uh huh.." Roy grunted and whipped away Chet's
towel, revealing Kelly's bandaged hands. 
Chet, of course tried to hide them behind his back.

Cap oggled. "Oh, now Kelly.. don't tell me you
just broke your fourth glass. Last thing I wanna do 
is call up McConnike again for another crew replacement.."

Lopez piped up. "Actually, Cap, he--"

"Just you hush up, Lopez.." Kelly squeaked.

Marco glared at Chet and finished his
sentence... "..took his frustrations out on the
locker room punching bag. Bare fisted."

Hank crooked a finger in irritation.
"Kelly.. Go inside.. And you're letting
Gage and DeSoto take a look at those hands.
Now." Cap said grumpily.

For once, Kelly didn't retort back.

The gang reconvened in the kitchen to the real pot
of full coffee. No one said anything when Roy
came into the kitchen with the squad's bandage box.

Cap said, "You take a real good look at him.
I wanna know if he can work like that.." he said,
pointing to Chet's bloody wraps around his knuckles.
"Kelly, that was real stupid. Next time, wear 
the d*mned boxing gloves.. That's what they're
there for.."

"That's what I told him.." Marco complained.

Chet's lips set into a firm line in a glare at
Marco, but he kept his peace otherwise.

Johnny said. "All right.. Chet. Let's get these off."
and he pulled out his hip holster shears and began
to cut away Lopez's wrap job. The damp, red
dressings fell away.

Roy whistled at the hamburgered skin he saw
there. "Chet, it looks like you really did a number
here.."

"No I didn't.." he complained. "It's just surface 
stuff." 

Johnny experimented. "I know how hard your upper
left cross is.." and he moved three fingers on Chet's
right hand up a smidgen. "That hurt?"  He immediately
stopped when a loud grating from the hand
almost made Chet and Johnny leap out of their
kitchen chairs. 

All the gang winced. Then Cap sighed and left for his
office to call for another man to replace Kelly for 
the still out of service engine.

Kelly complained, loudly. "Aww, Cap.. You don't have
to do that.. I'm fine.."

Hank's voice echoed back from the Cap's
room. "You aren't going to be able to tell me that 
when you can't hang onto a 450 psi
water hose next fire run tomorrow morning. 
And Kelly, I'm sure glad I won't be you when you 
personally tell the chief in the morning that your wounds 
were self inflicted. Gage, get him seen." said 
the booming invisible voice.

Johnny didn't say anything and he went out to the squad
for the biophone. There was no trace of annoyance at
all on his face when he set up the antennae and
began to hail Rampart. 

"Oh, geesh, Cap. You've got to be kidding me. I've dislocated
knuckles before. They only hurt a few days.. And they
usually work themselves back into place on their own
with a little use.." Kelly said.

Roy had spread out a dressing sheet onto the table
and he held out two hand fracture splints. 
"Not this time. That noise was crepitus Chet. 
Congratulations! We just found three
BROKEN knuckles on that hand. And judging by the
swelling and joint dislocations I see now, your left hand 
may even be worse off. Now don't move either one
of them until I'm through."

Marco sighed. "I told him they looked bad too."

"You did not. You said they looked sore."

"Same thing.." Lopez said.

"No , it's not.." Kelly snapped. He paled when
Roy made a small adjustment to one of his
fingers in the splint to get a better pulse into
it. "Oh, geesh. They're bad, aren't they..?"

"Only without treatment." Roy sighed. Then
he saw Kelly's pallor. "Do you need to lie down
there Kelly?"

"No.. no no.. I'm at least walking outta here
on my own two feet if I'm going to the hospital
tonight. No way am I going to be stretchered 
outta here."

"Then prevent that by lying down before you
faint. Marco, get his arm over you. 
We're moving him to the couch."

"I'm...not...shocky!"  Chet protested.

"You will be if you don't get flat. Now move it!!" 
Cap's voice filtered from the garage bay into 
the kitchen like a wraith's.

Kelly let Roy and Marco move him, complaining
the whole way.

Gage picked up the biophone and followed.
"Kelly just.. "

##51, this is Rampart Base. Go ahead.## came
Joe Early's voice.

Gage's retort moused down into grumbles
as he dragged a kitchen chair over to Chet's
couch to hold the biophone, near where he was
squatting. Roy got out a stethoscope and BP cuff. 
"Rampart, we've a hand case on a male, aged 28. 
155 pounds. Probable knuckle fractures. We've applied 
immobilizing splints to both hands and all distal 
metacarpal pulses are intact.." he inferred from 
Roy's silent nod. "No other injuries. Stand by for vitals."

"Gage, this isn't necessary.." Kelly said when Johnny
finished his sentence to the doctor on the line.

"Bet your BP's in the low 100's right now with all 
that excruciating pain. Bet you a month's dish 
detail."

"You're on.." Chet took up the challenge.
"And it's not excruciating. Only nauseating."
Then he realized that Gage got him to admit
that he was in pain at the same time as managing 
to wring out a current patient history account 
on top of the insult. He glared at Johnny all
the harder.

Gage winked a "got you" look at Chet and
continued when Roy handed him the notepad
of vitals.  "Rampart, vitals are.. pulse 120.
Respirations are normal. BP is.." he held off
for effect for Kelly's benefit.. "...100/60."

Chet groaned when he realized he lost the bet.

Johnny was crafty and held out the phone so
Joe could hear Kelly's groan for a moment.
"And he's in a fair amount of pain, doc. I suspect
that's why we've got the adverse BP. Hemorrhaging
is negligible."  He waved at Chet to keep moaning.
But Kelly refused to aid him.

But one overheard groan had been enough and Joe replied.
"I concur, 51.  Give him 5 mg, MS IM. Continue 
monitoring vitals and transport as soon as possible. 
I have an orthopedic M.D. standing by."

"10-4, Rampart.. Our ETA is..  twenty minutes.."

"10-4, 51."

Johnny hung up the phone. "Marco, hand me
the drug box.."

"A pain shot?! Oh, Gage, you are in sooOOoo much trouble."
Chet warned, wincing as Roy finished splinting his hands.

"How so? I'm just doing my job, that's all. Preventative
care...." he said in an exaggerated voice. "You feel that
pain much longer and you'll lose Glasgow points enough
to warrant an ambulance trip. How would that go over
with the chief then, Chet?" he said sarcastically.

Kelly's anger melted away and he regarded his
thick bandage encased hands. "I was just mad about
Stoker, that's all. Cut me some slack.."

"We are man.. That's why were taking ya in using
the squad." Gage said, "Now roll over and let me
get this MS in. Just don't move the hands."

Chet sighed and complied. Johnny pulled up Chet's
tucked in shirt and got him in the haunch.

"All right. Roll back." And Gage set a pillow on Kelly's
chest to hold his now wrapped, and splinted lower
arms up high. "Don't fall asleep. We'll get back with 
ya in a few minutes when the shot's working. We're
not leaving until it is."

Chet grunted, still pissed.

"Listen, Kelly. Johnny could have told the doc
that you did these injuries to yourself. He's probably
already in hot water for not disclosing mechanism of 
injury. The doc's gonna know that the minute the 
dressings come off." Roy insisted.

"I appreciate it. I appreciate it! Thanks for not
telling them I went crazy." Kelly insisted adamantly.

"Now why would we do that, Chet? Every one of us
knows that about you already, so notifying the 
shrink in the ER isn't necessary.." Gage said, 
"If you'd like, we can call Vince and the Bellview
monkeys to haul you off in their rubber cart to 
Rampart." he teased, ruffling Kelly's hair.

Kelly went to swipe his hand away when he 
remembered he couldn't.  His sour scowl 
faded into a giggle that got out. 

"Ah ha...." Roy said. "The shot's working."
he smiled, taking a BP. "It's up. And guess what?
It's normal now, Johnny. 132/94." 

"That's our ticket outta here. Come on, Chet.
Let's go. The faster they set those knuckles
the sooner you can cook us breakfast. I'm
starving.." Gage burbled.

Lopez and Johnny got him sitting and then 
onto his feet.

"Hey, I'm walking wounded here.." Chet
giggled. "I'm not gonna go cooking anything.."

"Sure you are.. It's your turn to cook. Remember?"

"Oh, yeah.. I think.. maybe  I can... I can manage 
to boil water for soup when I get b-- 
Hey, this shot's dreamy Johnny.."

"Now Chet, pay attention. One foot in front of
the other. You gotta WALK..." Gage told him.

Roy grabbed the biophone, but traded the dressings
box for the IV one from the hold to put onto the floor 
on Johnny's side of the squad cab.

"Close your mouth, Kelly. You're drooling on
my shoulder.." Marco complained as
he and Roy got Chet into the squad and buckled
tight and bundled into a third helmet for safety.

"Huh??" Kelly mumbled.

Roy put his helmet on and got into the driver's
seat. "Hey Cap.. This is what we did..." he hollered
out. "Johnny and I got orders to--"

"I don't wanna know the details. Just go."
Cap's voice grumbled from his open office
door. "Have the docs fix him up and get
him back here, pronto. Chief's got an eye 
on him for something he's not telling me about
and I don't want Kelly's stupid stunt to wreck
our chances of finding out just what that is.."

"You got it Cap.." Gage said. And then he
poked Kelly awake when he started snoring
into his ear from where he nestled between
Roy and Johnny in the squad.  "Kelly, no 
napping! Remember?"  And then he took a 
pulse check using the artery in Chet's arm, 
squeezing a little too hard on purpose.

"Oww, hey, hey, hey..Your turn soon for the
 bathroom.. Just a few more minutes
okay? Gotta shave my beard off.." Kelly
slurred.

Gage chuckled. "As if you had a beard.
Hey, open those eyes."

Kelly did crack his eyes open then, his clowning over..
"I do, too. And it's as red as my moustache..
Here. Feel.." and he caught Gage's hand
into his own muffed ones and stroked it
over the stubble shadow on his face.

Gage whipped his hand away in disgust.
"Cut it out.. and don't be moving those hands
like that.. Just keep holding them up higher
than your heart on the dashboard there." 
Then he mumbled to himself under his breath. 
"Huh, don't we all have beards.."

"Not you, Gage. You're Native American.." 
Kelly said. "No hair anywhere except where
you'd expect it."

"Oh yeah?" Gage said narrowing his eyes,
off on another Gage band wagon.  "Think of it 
from my perspective. It's not easy working with 
hairy gorillas as crewmates. Tell me, Chet. Doesn't 
all that chest hair make you kinda hot in summer?"

Roy, Chet and Cap said "No, it doesn't."
simultaneously from where they were.

"Oh..." Johnny peeped. "Thanks for telling me that.
Always ....wondered.." and he cleared his
throat self consciously.

Cap came out of the office and saundered out to the 
alcove mike, thumbing it.
"L.A. Station 51. Mark squad 51 out of service 
to Rampart until 0500. We're dealing with a minor 
in house medical call."

##10-4, 51. Time out. 03:12.## 

Roy and Gage were about to leave the garage
with silent reds when DeSoto suddenly screeched
to a halt. "Would you look at that?"

"What?" asked Gage and Kelly at the same time.

"That..." Roy said, pointing to the cement floor
before their bumper.

Boot, the long-time-ago-runaway-mutt, their old 
station mascot, was sitting there.

"Well, I'll be d*mned.." Cap said, setting his hands on
his hips. "Come on, boy. Out of the way. The squad's
on a rescue call for Kelly here."

Boot obediently slid over three feet and let the 
squad by.

Cap saw Roy pick up speed on the boulevard with
top red lights on, but no siren, with satisfaction, 
and then he closed the big bay doors.

He and Marco were left face to face with Boot.

"Hey, boy. Welcome back.." Lopez said, crouching
low to address the mangy medium sized dog.

Boot immediately whined and ran to the engine
to scratch meaningfully on the door latch
until he nosed it open. He leaped up.

Curling up on Mike's engine driver's seat, Boot
began to whine and glance up at the two 
mystified firemen staring at him with their mouths 
flopped open. When he saw the men didn't do 
anything to explain the situation, he started nosing 
Stoker's helmet hanging there, crying in worry and 
distress.

"I don't believe what I'm seeing.. How did
he find out about Stoker? And where did he come
from?" Cap mumbled.

"I have no idea, Cap." Marco admitted.

 ----------------------------

Photo : Cap in a worried closeup in the kitchen.

Photo: Roy and Johnny leaving the garage on
           a run. Cap, handing them the run slip.

Photo: Boot standing in the garage.

************************************
From : "Cory Anda" <andacory@hotmail.com>  
Subject : Motion to Promotion  
Date :Tue, 04 Feb 2003 14:50:07 +0000  
 

Dixie McCall was on a night shift. She was
filling in for Carol Evans, who was on vacation.

The automatic doors at the end of the hall around
the corner activated and the soft rolling sound made
her look up from her patient chart. The last
three people she expected through her emergency
department's portal was Johnny Gage, Roy DeSoto
and Chet Kelly.  Her eyebrows rose in 
a questioning glance but Joe Early stepped out of
Kel's office just then and relieved her bubbling
curiosity. "Joe? What's up? I must have been on
break when their rescue call came in."

Joe said, "A code I. Probable broken hands. 
Enough to warrant a pain med. I got it from here 
Dix." he said, walking down the hall to meet
Gage and Roy who were keeping a very tripped
Chet steady on his feet. "Could you tell Rivers
that his hand case is here, Dixie? I've already 
told radiology that he was coming."

"Right..." Dix said. "Hi Roy, Johnny."

"Hi Dix... Where to?" Gage asked.

"Get him into Treatment Two. And this is...."

"Chet Kelly." Roy replied. "Chet, this is Dixie. 
You might remember her from last year 
when you were blown into those crates 
from that paint factory explosion." Gage
and he shifted Chet's weight between them
as they guided him into the exam room.

Kelly grinned, feeling the heady effects of
the MS. "Nah, don't recall.. How could I
forget a beautiful face like that, man? Hi babe."
he giggled, lifting his head from the gurney where
Gage and Roy had placed him. "Where have you
been all my life? I got the distinct feeling that
you and I could make really beautiful music
together.."

"Charmed." Dix replied, recognizing a high
when she saw one. She looked up.
"Morphine?"

Johnny firmly pushed Chet's shoulders back down
onto the table, grinning. "How can you tell?"

Right then, Dr. Early came into the room and
immediately went to examine Chet's eyes.
"Did he behave himself on the trip in?"

Roy said, "He was fine, doc. We managed to
keep him from using those hands too much."

"Yeah.." Johnny smiled. "I told him he
had to keeping holding the dashboard
to keep the squad steering straight." he joked.

"Hmmm..." Joe said, leaning in close to get
a good check on Kelly's pupils. 

Chet was now happily groggy and didn't mind
at all when Joe and Dix unwrapped his hands
onto sterile sheets on his chest for his x-rays
through the splints.  

Kelly started humming absently through the
whole exam. Dr. Rivers entered the room. 
Joe acknowledged him. "Johnny, Roy,
Chet, this is Dr. Craig Rivers, head ortho from
upstairs. He's going to be handling Kelly's case."

"Hi, doc.." Roy, Johnny and Chet echoed.

"Hello, everyone. Let's see what we've got.." And Rivers
checked out Chet's hands visually, noting the same
signs that he had read from the run sheet. "Did he take 
out some frustrations on a wall or two?" he
asked the two paramedics. "These knuckles look
like they took that kind of blunt trauma."

Roy and Johnny shifted uncomfortably.

DeSoto replied. "Close, but no walls per se, 
it was a punching bag, actually. Chet was a little 
upset about a coworker of ours getting caught 
in a roof collapse last night."

Johnny dove right in with the opportunity for
an update. "Dix, how's Stoker doing?"

Dix was helping redirect the exam table light
down onto Chet's hands so Rivers could
see what he was doing. "About the same.
You could go up and visit him if you'd like."

"Hey... I wanna come too." Chet said, 
trying to sit up. Roy, Gage and Dr. Early 
all held him down onto the gurney.
Kelly stared at the ceiling, grinning like an
idiot and he added.
"Glad my ploy worked and I got here to Rampart
so I can see him while still on duty. Thanks,
Gage. Thanks, DeSoto, for playing along..." Kelly
said, muzzily serious.

"Who's playing, Chet? Your hands are really
busted..  And Cap took you OFF duty." Roy 
informed him. 

"Now keep still."Gage told him firmly. 
Then he looked up and mouthed to Dix and the 
docs, "Want us to strap him down?" he said from 
the corner of his mouth.

Joe smiled and shook his head. "He seems
cooperative enough. And that MS will be wearing
off in a few minutes. I'll change it over to
Meperidine so he won't be so tripped out 
before we get started setting those fractured
knuckles."

"Think he'll need surgery, doc?" Roy asked
Rivers.

"No. These breaks I can manually reduce
right here. The x-rays will confirm what I'm
seeing now when they come through." Craig admitted. 
"Listen, has Chet ever broken his hands before? 
That may effect his recovery time; from a few
days to perhaps two weeks or so."

"Nah, doc. He's been living a charmed life.
No fractures, even after eight years with
the fire department." Gage told him.

Roy concurred. "It's the rest of us who
haven't been so lucky."

"Really.." Rivers said conversationally
polite. He didn't inquire further.

Gage looked up at Dix. "And Stoker's
number's up for the first time. He's the one
Chet was so upset about. Say, Dr. Early. 
Can we leave to go check up on Stoker? 
Think you three can handle Chet on your 
own down here?"

"Yeah, sure Johnny. Go right ahead.
We'll make sure Kelly behaves himself
while we get him squared away and into
a pair of hand casts." Joe said.

"See you in a bit, Chet.. Now stay put."

"Righto, Johnny boy...." Kelly giggled.

Dix mumbled to them as they passed.
"He's in ICU six, second floor." so Chet
wouldn't hear.

"Thanks Dix, we'll be back in a few.." Roy said,
holding up his walkie talkie.

"I've got a fresh coffee pot on by the call
station.." Dix added. "Help yourselves."

Roy and Johnny left the room.

"Hey, bring me some...." Chet piped up.
"I'm thirsty!" he shouted belatedly.

Dix turned back to the bed. "Sorry,
Kelly. You're NPO for a while because
of that lovely pain med you took in
the rear. " she guessed, seeing no IV
hanging by Chet's head.  Then she
looked up at the docs. "Want a line
started for that Meperidine backup?"

Joe sighed and nodded. "Looks like
we need it if he's feeling dry. Make it
a 500 cc Normal Saline Drip, wide open.
We'll crank it down when he's better
hydrated. He probably lost some fluid
volume working that punching bag so
hard."

"I'll get right on it.." Dixie answered,
moving to the Treatment Room
drug cabinet to find the proper IV and
set up. She took off the stethoscope
that she had been using to take a vitals 
set on him. "BP's steady. 126/68. 
Pulse 90, Respirations 22." 

"So he really is thirsty.." Joe concluded 
from Chet's heart rate.

"Looks like it." Rivers said from where 
he had his head band light down over his
eyes while he gently probed how each
knuckle displacement situated with each
finger on Kelly's hands.

Chet started humming tunelessly again, 
lost in his drugged stupor, while Rivers and 
Early started to set up the equipment and 
things they would need to set Chet's 
hands.

X-ray arrived to take pictures
after Dix was through starting and 
stringing Chet's IV on a pole, and 
everyone vacated the room until the 
films were finished being exposed.

---------------------------------------------

Roy and Johnny felt small went they 
entered Mike Stoker's critical care room.

Despite all their know how and training,
the sight of the respirator and all the tubes
in place around Mike took them aback.

Stoker was still and ghastly white under 
the dim light of the bed's wall illumination.
The soot that had covered him had been
washed away and all his face burns were
shiny with silvadene.

Johnny nodded a silent greeting 
to the nurse sitting by Mike's bed and 
stepped forward, being careful not to disturb 
any of the connections to the machines 
monitoring him. Gage set a hand on Mike's 
arm. He was relieved to find Stoker's skin 
warm and dry, unlike the cold clamminess he 
remembered from the fire when they had 
found Kelly's report of Stoker's arrested state 
to be true.

Roy asked the nurse, "Has he tried to fight 
the airway yet?"

She shook her head apologetically and smiled. 
"Want me to leave you alone for a few minutes?" 
she asked.

Gage didn't say anything but he felt his head
nod yes and dimly, he was aware that Roy was
nodding, too.

Roy and Johnny didn't even notice the intensive
care nurse depart, leaving the three of them alone.

Johnny felt his eyes lock onto Mike's tightly 
bandaged ones and he shifted his grip to Mike's
hand, squeezing it.

Johnny just swallowed, finding himself unable to
speak.

Roy leaned down close to Mike's ear when he
saw Johnny falter, and he asked for him. 
"Hey Stoker.. It's just us. How are you doing? 
Looks like the nurses and doctors are taking 
really good care of you here.." DeSoto
smiled. "Your EKG looks good. And it's probably
not long before the docs will lift your sedation so
you can begin to wake up."

Johnny just continued to hang onto Mike's
hand, listening to his partner talk, lost in a worried
haze as he watched the respirator breathe for
his friend in its slow artificial pattern. Gage's 
uncharacteristic quietness made Roy keep up a 
running dialogue to quell his own unspoken fears.

Roy sighed, and grimaced, patting Mike's blanketed
shoulder. "Cap's made some progress on who
started that fire. Your instincts were right. That
warehouse was a case of arson. Some kids involved
so far, and for some reason, Cap's protecting their
identities, perhaps to get his witness to give up
more information... W- We'll get to the bottom of
this."

Johnny still didn't say anything.

Roy began to fidget in the chair where he sat
and he gave Johnny his privacy by not looking at
him. "You'll never guess how Johnny and I got
to come up here after visiting hours like this.
You're not going to believe this. Chet went one
on one with the locker room punching bag and lost.
Busted six knuckles as far as Johnny and I could
tell. We'll get him up here to see you as soon
as he's finished getting patched up." 
DeSoto put on a brave smile, as if the expression
would somehow translate into his voice for Mike's
benefit. "He was pretty upset he couldn't do more
for you after he dug you out. But he did a good
job keeping you breathing until Johnny, he and
I could get you outta there and to the 02 and all 
our gear. You left us for a bit then, but we managed to
shock you back after only a couple of minutes' work."

Roy's eyes were following Mike's EKG and he was 
heartened that it had picked up a bit while he 
continued to talk. Johnny didn't miss the responsive
signs either and his expression brightened. Finally,
Gage found his voice. "Yeah, we were lucky. D*mned
lucky. Oh, you might notice when you wake that
your eyes are bandaged. That's from that hot water
pipe that broke above you when the roof gave way
so you just concentrate on getting better and-- and...
and thinking positively about that because we really
want ya back at the station as soon as possible.
Doesn't feel the same without you. " Johnny grinned
tightly. "We're not the only ones who feel that way.
You'll never guess who showed up just as we
were taking Chet to the hospital to get his hands
set. I'll give you a hint. He's brown, hairy and has
four legs."

Roy chuckled. "Yep. It's Boot. Went right to the engine,
looking for ya. No doubt he's got plans to keep the
seat warm until you get better. So get better, kay?"

Mike didn't move. But the EKG didn't slow its
reactive rate either. DeSoto and Gage got to
their feet and waved the nurse at the ICU desk
back into the room, indicating that their visit was
over. She left her post and came back into the
room.

Johnny asked her. "How long has he been listening
to people like this?" he asked throwing a hand
at the overhead EKG above the bed. 

The nurse fussed with Stoker's pillows and
blankets before settling back into her
observation chair at his bed's foot. "Oh, for about
an hour now. Looks like his sedation's wearing off
early."

"That's great. That's great." Johnny said quietly.
"Would you give us a call when he's extubated? 
It would really mean a lot to all of us guys 
at the station to know he's snapping out of it, 
know what I mean...? We also want to know about
his.. well, whether or not he can.... you know."

"See? " the young nurse suggested. "I think I can
do that. You two are with 51's right?"

"Yeah.." Roy replied.

"Dixie's got your number and I can get that
easily enough. I'm here until eleven and I will call
when it happens."

"Thanks. We ah, we really appreciate it.."

"No problem.." she said, turning back to 
watch Stoker's EKG and respirator's venting rate.

DeSoto conducted his partner out the door without
saying a word, excusing them both from the room.

Out in the hall, Johnny asked. "Wow, do you think he
was really hearing us in there?"

"Johnny, now you know better than to doubt what
your eyes are telling you. Of course he heard us. Someone
would have to be dead to not hear you." he quipped.

"Very funny." Gage frowned, then he smiled. "Hey,
Chet's gonna like this news. " then he remembered.
"Ooo, but he's probably getting his knuckles set right
now. I hate being in the room when fractures are
getting reduced. Why don't you and I wait it out
in the nurse's lounge?"

An amused grin filled Roy's face. "All right. I'll give in
to your one squeamish tendency..Know that the 
coffee's bound to be old in there."

Johnny was already halfway to the elevator.
"Umm hmm.." he replied. "But it's out of earshot
of Chet's treatment room."

"Chicken.."

"No, just.. selective.. If I was a fan of medieval
torturing practices, I'd be there." Gage said,
uncomfortably rubbing nervous hands on
his shirt's front.

"Chet's gonna be given Versed. He'll
feel the initial setting of his knuckles the second
it happens, but then he'll forget about it right
away the moment it's over. That's the beauty
of that particular drug." Roy suggested.

"I know.. I know.." Johnny twitched with 
a shiver. "I just have .....never been able
to convince myself that it really works that
way. Screams are screams."

Roy grinned, but he was very merciful for
a six year paramedic partner. "Come on
junior.  Let's go hide out then, until it's over."

"Thanks.." Gage said wanly.

-----------------------------------------------------

Back at the station house, the gang was all wearing
their night pullup trousers and boots despite
being out of service for the rest of the early dawn until
their called replacements could arrive to fill Chet
and Stoker's places on the engine. They were in
a circle around the engine's open cab door.

"Now that's devotion.." Cap said, not minding Boot's
muddy paws resting where the scraggly dog
lay, dusty from the many miles he must have
travelled to get from ten's to 51's. "Looks like
we're going to have to get a prybar to get him
outta that driver's seat."

Marco plunked Henry's old bowl down full of
left over hamburger on the concrete floor and
Boot was out of the engine like a cannon shot
for the grub. Lopez grinned. "Or a bowl of vittles."

Hank closed the engine's door after brushing off
the dirt from the seat onto the stone floor with
satisfaction. Both men crouched over the dog,
caressing his fur affectionately. "Good boy, nice
to see you again. Hope you stay a long time." 
they coo-ed.

Then Marco said, "Even Mike's gonna love
seeing you ag--" he broke off, fighting a sob.

Boot stopped eating immediately and looked
up, staring into Marco's face. He whined, setting
his paws on Marco's shoulders and he licked his
face once before turning back to wolf down
his dinner.

Lopez laughed and grimaced, wiping dog food
and dirt off his cheek. "Gee, can't hide anything
from you, Boot."

"Guess not." Cap agreed, standing. "Give
him a good B-A-T-H when he's through in
the locker room tub, all right? I'll get breakfast
going.."

"You're cooking?"

"Yeah.. got a problem with that?" Hank challenged.

"No. Just never ever remember you doing that
before, Cap." Marco said, sheepishly.

"First time for everything. Sort of like Boot here 
coming back to a firehouse he's already visited.."

"I guess.." Lopez said, affectionately patting Boot's
sides until he was warned off with a don't-bug-me,
I'm-eating growl from Boot. "Ok.. ok. Uncle. Lick
that clean when you're done big fella.." he said,
standing.

Cap made his way into the kitchen and the empty 
chairs there. Through the window, he could already
see the light of dawn peeking through the cracks of
the shade pulled down there. Foregoing decorum,
Cap pulled up on the shade, letting in the rich rising sun's
light into the room until it flooded the kitchen in a
tawny glow. Its warmth felt good after a sleepless
night and soon, he felt comfortably relaxed despite
events.

Then Cap turned to the frig to plan out breakfast.
It took a force of will to taper down portions on
the stove enough for five only instead of the usual
six. ::I hope Roy and Johnny make time to run
up to Stoker's room to check up on him. I hate
not knowing how he's doing.::

Marco and Cap had eaten already and three
full plates were sitting in the oven, keeping warm,
when they heard the garage doors rumble open
with the squad's return.

Roy and Johnny wearily entered the kitchen
and sat down in the chairs. Boot immediately
went for Roy's lap where he sat, sniffing his
hands and shirt eagerly. "Yeah, boy, we all saw
him. Stoker's doing ok. " he said to both
dog and Cap. "He's even listening up when
spoken to."

"That's good news.." Hank said. "Chow's in 
the oven.. Where's Kelly?"

"Sleeping it off." Gage replied. "I sent him to
his bunk. Gonna be another hour before the
meds the docs gave him wear off enough for
him to feel hungry. Then I'll take him home if
there's time, before our replacements arrive."

"Who's coming?" Roy asked.

Cap said, "Don't rightly know. The Chief didn't 
say any names. Remind me to have Chet talk
to McConnike before he ships outta here. There's
that message the Chief wants to give him.."

"What message?" Johnny said. " 'Don't forget your
gloves again, Kelly' kind of message? I fell for
that once from you, remember?"

Hank laughed. "No, actually. He wouldn't tell me
over the phone. Said it was between him and Kelly."

Johnny and Roy's face fell. They suddenly knew what it
was.

Roy finally said the unthinkable. "The chief's aiming
at Kelly taking Stoker's engineering spot, isn't he?"

Cap didn't say anything. Then he just nodded.
"Most likely, if things don't pan out for the best
with Stoker's eyesight."

Gage slammed his mug down on the table.
"Well, isn't that just lovely. Mike's not even six 
hours back from near death, and already, McConnike's
washing him up..."

Cap turned appraising eyes on his fiery paramedic.
"Now Gage, you know this is just backup contingency.
No one is retiring anybody just yet."

"Then why that for Kelly's-ears-only phone call...?" 
Johnny asked bitterly.

To that, Cap had no easy answer.

----------------------------------------

An hour later, Chet arose from his recuperative nap
and made his way into the kitchen, "Oh man, I feel
like something Boot dragged in. Hiya, Boot." he said.

"How are the hands?" Roy asked, pulling up
a chair and pouring a mug of coffee out
for him.

"Thick. But they don't hurt much anymore."

"That's the Versed.." Johnny smirked with
amusement. "Wait until later when that memory
blocker starts to wear off."

Roy shot Johnny a disapproving glance.

But Johnny got out a pair of hotpads
and got out Chet's breakfast from
the oven where it still warmed and
began cutting it up for Chet industriously
with fork and knife. "Need help eating this?" 
he asked, not unkindly.

"I got it. Just cut the steak into smaller pieces."
Kelly said, fumbling with his fork in his abundantly
wrapped hands. He stubbornly stabbed an
egg onto the fork using his chin and both 
splinted palms.

Marco noticed his difficulty and said, 
"You're not driving home that way.."

"Says who?"

"Says me.." Cap said with authority.
"Gage has already offered to drive you
home. Now do you have someone around
to help you about the house until you've
healed up in a few days?"

"I can call my sister. She owes me one.
I took care of her when she busted both legs
skiing last winter."

"Ouch.." Johnny said, swiping some toast
over his rapidly emptying plate. "Did she
have fun doing it?"

"About as much fun as I had busting my 
knuckles, and thanks for asking." Kelly
said.

"Hey, how was I to know? Most people
ski for enjoyment's sake." Gage complained.

"Yeah? Well, my sister skis like I work out when
we both get upset about stuff."

"And you both get hurt doing it." Roy said
quietly.

"Not all the time, DeSoto. Just that one time
for her, and now this time, for me.." he said, 
holding up his splinted palms.

"Just make sure your brand of therapy follows
less aggressive routes next time Kelly, or there
will be h*ll to pay." Cap warned. "I had to talk
a blue streak to keep the Chief from disciplining
you about your little stunt this morning."

Kelly was properly abashed. "Thank you." he
said very fast.

"Call the Chief when breakfast is over. He
wants to talk to you."

"But, Cap, I thought you said you got me out
of hot water...."

"This is about something else, Kelly." Cap toned
back.

"Oh."

"Then get back in here and tell us what it
was all about. Sounds important."

"Right."

Soon, Chet had finished manhandling his food
into his stomach and made the call to McConnike
from Cap's office. Minutes later, he shuffled back
into the kitchen, numbly sitting back down into
his chair.

"Kelly, you ok?" Roy asked.

Chet looked up and his face was devoid
of humor or pleasure. "Chief says I should start
taking a look at the red book from Cap's
office pronto like. "

"Oh really? Wh-What's the red book?"
Gage asked, pretending pretense.

Chet didn't say anything.

Cap got up and disappeared into the bay. 
He returned with an unfamiliar fat, red book in his 
hands. "This book. Chet, The chief probably wants 
you to know the basics by the time you're back
on the duty rosters.. I'm sorry, buddy. I just
didn't think the chief would really consider
this course of action so soon."

Chet read the cover and his face fell with remorse.
"Oh, Cap.." he sighed.  "I- I can't do this.. It
isn't right." Kelly's closed his eyes. "This is the 
engineer's manual.  Seems I've been chosen to
be next in line for that position on the engine 
if Stoker doesn't make it back to the actives list."

------------------------------------------

Photo : Dixie at desk looking surprised.

Photo :  Johnny with milk carton at night.

Photo: Roy in kitchen chair with Boot in his
           lap.

Photo: Chet, looking sad, with Stoker's
           engineering manual open, in his lap.

*********************************
From : "patti keiper" <pattik1@hotmail.com>  
Subject :[EmergencyTheaterLive] The Long Tiny Steps..  
Date : Thu, 06 Feb 2003 06:47:31 +0000  
   

Acknowledgements to...
Tom Stafford - Firefighter Captain /MD on
Chemical Firetruck Training Procedures

Acknowledgements to..
Dr. Jeff Seltun for Pulmonary Scalding Lab Test
Orders and General Ophthalmology Medicine.

 
Dr. Brackett was paged to Mike Stoker's
room around noon. Joe Early was on hand
when the call light came on from the observation
nurse. Stoker was semi awake and beginning
to fight the respirator. Kel leaned over the bed.
"Beth, get Dixie in here." Kel ordered.

The critical care nurse used the wall phone near
Mike's head to summon her.

Dr. Brackett leaned close. "Mike. It's ok. You're
in the hospital and you've been intubated to
counteract the spasming effects of the burns
you have in your throat. Try to relax. We'll
evaluate you to see if we can let you try to 
breathe on your own off the respirator."

Stoker stopped struggling, but then his
hands went to his face. Dixie arrived just in
time to help Beth gently restrain him from
touching the burned areas on his face around
the eye dressings. "He's relaxed about having
his eyes covered at least.." she said.

Beth piped up, "That's because his station crew
mates were up here telling him what to expect 
when he woke up. Mike, besides Dixie and me,
Dr. Brackett and Dr. Early are here."
The two nurses quietly spoke to Mike while
Kel and Joe consulted after a quick exam
of his chest and breath sounds. They stood
at the foot of the bed so Mike wouldn't hear
them discuss a decision.

"What do you think, Kel? Too soon to go off
the bird?" Joe asked.

"Not necessarily." Dr. Brackett said, rubbing
his chin. "The danger of tracheal adhesion is
has passed. The initial wheezing we heard when
he was admitted has gone away. I think we
can go ahead and make him more comfortable.
If we run into any problems, we can always bag
him until we can re-sedate him for a second
intubation." 

"I agree. Let's go ahead then."

"Dix, watch his BP." Joe said and together, the
two doctors instructed Mike how to manage
himself while the respirator was turned off
and the EOA removed. Beth was right there
with a hissing suction tube to carry away liquids as
the slender airway was taken out. 

Stoker wanted to cough and he winced from 
the sting of burns deep inside. He let himself 
blank out to end the pain. He felt the nurses 
pull him onto his side to drain out his throat 
for him and his alarm grew when his diaphram 
refused to pull any air into his lungs when 
he felt the suctioning wand leave his mouth.

"BP's dropping. 88/46.." Dix reported.

Kel reached for the diazepam syringe pack on
the crash cart and tossed it onto the bed
so it would be nearby.

"Mike." Joe called out. "Give it a few seconds.
That winded feeling will ease off. Then see if
you can try to inhale on your own. Don't worry.
If you can't, we'll support you with 02 on an ambu
bag until you're ready to do it on your own."

Beth held one ready and flowing on standby.

Kel stood listening with a stethoscope as Mike's
EKG rate rose higher as the firefighter worked through
his fright and the natural cramping of his wounded 
throat in response to the airway's removal. Finally,
after half a minute, Stoker's muscles relaxed and 
he took in a ragged involuntary breath, tentative, 
but effective.

Immediately Dixie slipped a simple clear,
non rebreather mask over his face on full flow
sending Beth with the ambu bag valve mask 
away with a nod. "There."she said. "You did it, 
Mike. Now relax."  Everyone in the room sighed 
in relief. Mike's tracheal blistering hadn't harmed 
his ability to breathe at all.

The EKG settled fitfully into a normal but fast
sinus rhythm that slowed increment by increment
with each successful breath Mike drew in.

After a minute, Dix announced.
"His pressure's back up. Settling in at
120/62." she told the doctors.

Dr. Brackett put the sedative med back
onto the crash cart and hung his head in
relief.

Beth placed her hands on either side 
of Stoker's face so he knew she was near. 
"Having any pain now anywhere else besides 
your sore throat and face ?"

Stoker shook his head and gurgled when
he tried to talk.

"Don't." Dix told him. "Not yet.
Swallow. Again. Now wait a minute or two
before you even think about trying to talk."

"The rocky part's over Mike. I promise you
no more surprises like that." Kel frowned.

Dr. Brackett listened to Mike's chest and upper
trachea again with a stethoscope while Joe
began to unwrap Mike's eyes bit by bit for a
cursory ophthalmic exam. He kept them patched
until he nodded at Beth to wave the room lights
down to complete darkness except for the
pinpoint spot from his ophthalmoscope.

The saline soaked patches came away.

Stoker's raspy voice whispered to them.
"I can't see.."

Kel's face softened. "That's because we have
the room lights turned off to make it
easier on you. You also have some
swelling of the tissue around your eyes and
both of them have swelled shut. Just relax,
Mike. We'll know soon enough what's going
on after Joe takes a look at you. Does your 
chest hurt at all?"

"No..." he sighed, still whispering.

"Good. Your bronchoscopy didn't show any
major damage to your pulmonary tissues. Only
some localized scalding above your larynx.
The collapsed airway you suffered during
the fire reopened again nicely once your coworkers 
got you back outside away from all the heat." 

"I stopped breathing?" Mike asked. 

Joe and Kel hesitated. Then Dr. Brackett
ventured into a disclosure. "For a while. Enough
to lose a viable heart rate. But there was no 
difficulty in reconverting you. You were down 
for only a minute or so and Johnny and Roy got 
you back effectively enough to matter until you
got to the hospital and we could stabilize your
vital signs. You ran no hypoxia risks at all."

"I almost died?" Stoker asked again.

"Almost only counts in horseshoes and
hand grenades, Mike Stoker. And you know
it." Dixie said. "Now lie still and let the doctors
finish examining your eyes." she said no 
nonsense.

Mike stayed hushed.

Joe said. "Mike this may hurt a bit when I
shine the scope's light into the back of your
eyes. I need to see what's happening to
the deeper structures there."

Stoker gasped when the light shone down.
All was a mass of shadows and shocking
white flares which smeared together in sparking
chaotic afterimages. His head began to fill
with pulsing stabs of agony.

Mike's EKG sped up suddenly. 

Joe immediately quelled the light. "What
did you see?"

Stoker told him.

Kel and Joe glanced at each other.
Dr. Brackett said. "There may be some
fundus involvement here. Perhaps even
with the optic disc itself. But then again,
those visual anomalies could just be the 
transitory results of superficial corneal burns. 
Try it again Joe."

Once more, Joe used his scope to peer around
Stoker's red swollen eye lids into the eyes below.

This time, Mike's discomfort doubled. His
hands shot up and gripped Joe's wrist.
"Ahh.. don't...!" His sharp movement made
Dr. Early drop his instrument onto the pillow.

"All right. I'll stop." Joe said quietly. 

Kel and he and Dix and Beth all exchanged
worried looks. Then Joe gripped Mike's hands
in firm comfort and he returned them back
under the blankets. "Ok, that's enough from us for
now. We'll repatch your eyes with more antibiotic
salve and try again in a few days."

Mike didn't say anything and his heart rate 
remained fast and panicked.

Kel said. "Don't let this dishearten you at all, Mike.
Sometimes it takes days or even weeks for normal
retinal responses to return to the eyes following
heat exposure like this. But from what we did
see here, your eyes are intact. Both your scleras
are understandably swollen and red and your pupils 
are adjusting somewhat irregularly due to the
burns there, but globally, at this stage, things are
looking about as well as we all expected."

Mike let the nurses rebind his head tightly, to keep
out any more light before he spoke again.
"Doctor Brackett. Just how well is 'As well as
expected?' "

They didn't say anything.

Mike filled the silence. "You know, six years ago,
Kip Jenkins from Station 16's took a spark on
the eye just standing roof watch. And it cost
him his job when it later healed over, leaving him
with tunnel vision on that side." He swallowed. 
"Is that going to happen to me?"

Kel kept his hand on Mike's arm. "It's too soon
to tell, Mr. Stoker. Only time will show us any
final outcome here."

"I know.. I know..." Stoker said, folding his hands
over his chest, trying to pull shreds of dignity
about himself as he would a turnout coat against
the blazing heat of a fire.  "I just don't like being
kept in the dark..."

Dixie looked down.

"Sorry.." Mike apologized for the black feeling joke. 

Kel said to him. "Mike, let's see how the rest
of you is doing in the meantime. Joe, let's order
another set of arterial blood gases to see how 
well it's working out for Mike being off support 
like this. Also, I want to get a second chest X-ray to
compare it to the one we took last night. Dix, I want 
the lab to get  electrolytes, a urinalysis, a BUN, 
a creatinine series and I want respiratory therapy
to get in here to start some pulmonary function 
tests on Mike's lung performance."

"I'll get right on it.." Dix said, moving to the phone.

"I'd just wish I could find out answers a little 
faster. Not knowing anything's killing me.." 
Stoker sighed, gasping through the oxygen mask.

Brackett chuckled in his throat.
 "Trying being a doctor and compounding
that particular problem in the form of fifteen 
new patients a day. Now you know why doctors 
like me grumble so much.." he grinned wryly for the 
nurses benefit. "One step at a time, Mike. It always 
comes, one step at a time.. For you, that means
that all you have to be is a patient patient and 
the rest will follow naturally. In your future, there
may be the slight chance of corneal transplantation 
surgery. But your positive contrast vision tells me
that even that, might not be necessary in the long 
run." 

Mike stayed numbly quiet as he attempted to 
settle his labored breathing around the burns 
jabbing in his throat.

Kel sighed. "Just leave all the worrying to us. It's what 
we get paid for. See if you can get some rest, all right?"

"I'll try, doctor."

-------------------------------------------------------

It was four days later on the exercise grounds
at the L.A. County firefighting training facility.

Station 51's usual fire inspection duty assignments 
had been traded away to another sister station 
so she could report with her crew solely for Chet Kelly's
benefit. He had passed the paperwork part of
the standby engineer's test and now was entering
the practical skills testing.

A mockup of a two story apartment tower building
with a fuel truck spill at its base was the scenario
the chiefs had mapped out for Station 51's chemical
truck to handle.  And on a signal, the whole facsimile
was set ablaze along the tarmack using hidden torches
embedded from spigots in the concrete.

"Ok, Kelly.." encouraged Charlie Atkins, the replacement
engineer assigned to 51 until Mike Stoker's situation
fell one way or the other over the fence. "This is
an easy one. Think...grease. Now, what mix are ya
going to pick for your hoses?"

Chet Kelly watched Marco, Cap, Roy and John
string lines at the ready, aimed at the fire's heart, and
they all looked back towards Chet at the chemical
panel on the engine for Chet's signal to let go
the charged hoses.

To one side, the Batallion Chief was also drilling another
company as they broke in a new man on driving
a ladder truck around an obstacle course. For the
moment, the gray haired supervisor's attention
wasn't on 51's exercise.

Chet Kelly bit his lip, checking and rechecking 
the pumper readouts. "Repellent surfactant
at ....18%  per hundred gallons ppm...with
every five hundred hydrant gallons from the 
ground."

"Right. Right.. Gotta do that because fuel's
so volatile with our 21% air 02 ratio." 
Charlie said with a nod around the smoke drifting
towards them from the building. 
"Now what else before you release your mixed 
reservoir to your crewmates?"

Kelly's face fell out of concentration and his
initial self assuredness dropped away.
"I don't know man. I - I got the right chemicals
here.. I know I do.. I've been eating sleeping and
dreaming these mathematical formulas for
days now."

Suddenly a pair of calm hands came between 
the men and locked off the settings Chet had
chosen on the fire retardant soup to the hoses
and Mike Stoker's voice said. "You tell your
captain to call in the foam truck for a protective
covering spread, Chet." His fingers danced over
the dials of the engine in a ballet of familiarity.
"From what I feel here, you did everything right. 
Give them the go ahead. This was sort of a trick
situation they mapped out for you. It's not in 
the book. Just remember foam with fuel and fire."

Chet's face was a mix of emotions as he lifted his
HT to his lips. "Engine 51 to HT 51. Hoses one
and two are set and locked. Foam 127. Move in
to assist from the...." Chet paused as he rechecked
the wind direction with a moistened finger,.."north
side of the fire. You are committed.."


Charlie, and Mike, who was still eyepatched tightly, 
both smiled when Kelly said everything according 
to procedure. Even Cap, on Chet's place at a 
hose nodded appreciably before he turned back
to fight the fire.

Mike said, "Turn down your master valve two points.
Your left hose sounds kinda hissy.. That one's not getting
enough psi because your supply's been split off.
Must be because the engine's not quite on level ground.
Flows faster on the downhill side always."

Kelly squinted into the dials and wiped grime off
the dial in question. "Man.. what ears.. You're right.
Two points off my percentage setting. 
I thought we had the lock down legs on the plates
planted perfectly man. I thought we were ON a level."

"This whole valley's tilted. You had no way of
knowing that. I'm just remembering the pitch angle
from my head."

"Terrif.. Way to burst my bubble, Stoker." Charlie
ribbed. "And here we all thought you were a miracle
dowser through and through."

"Ok, I'm compensating....now.." Kelly said.
Chet and Charlie hauled on Mike's arm to get him back
against the safety of the truck to prevent him from 
getting a painful bang on the shins when Johnny's 
team's firehose bucked at Chet's minor adjustment 
to it. 

"Thanks guys.." Mike said, feeling for the cab
door. He opened it so he could sit inside to 
keep the excited Boot company.

Atkins had his own advice.
"Chet, do this too, whenever you
make an adjustment or you'll be black and 
blue before you know it."
  Charlie felt around with a foot in the standing 
runoff water until he had one shoe pinning down 
the main hose as the men worked to put out 
the mockup fire in both the semi vehicle and 
the test building. "Just like this. These hoses
are like live animals whenever anyone rounds
a corner in there or shuts off a spray or two to
move to another hotspot. You won't see
any of that. But your legs will sure make 
a note of it. Directly standing on these 
puppies will give you plenty of warning 
about a buck."

Mike said, " Yeah, that's a good pointer.
Now Kelly, I want you to watch the wind
and how all the hoses' fanning water 
may be getting diverted. I can't tell 
what it's doing by the sound. If you see 
the guys' jackets getting dry more than the 
water's cooling them off, turn up the psi and 
the chemical mix rate until 90% of the hose 
charge is getting onto target, that'll buy them 
more time on their SCBA's since they won't 
breathe as fast then due to overheating. A 
trick I learned is to get progress reports 
from each team, every five minutes about
hose patency. Listen to how they're 
breathing over the HT and that will give 
you clues too as to how well you're 
controlling their water supply based on 
need. They won't tell you if they're in trouble that 
way since things are steaming in a fire anyway."

Kelly's face fell open in surprise as he kept his
lightly ace wrapped hands on the master pressure
dial valve and watched the effect of the daylight
wind over the whole scene before him. "So that's
why you keep bugging us when we enter new
fire hotspots.."

"Yep.." Mike grinned.

Charlie even looked abashed. "You know, Stoker.
I've been engineer at 110's for five years and that
monitoring trick is certainly new to me.."

"That one's not in the book either.. I adapted
it from watching Johnny and Roy work on 
people. The higher the breathing rate is on 
anybody, the more trouble they're in. It's a
dead giveaway.  Works for working firefighters 
who aren't in medical trouble too."

"You know, Stoker?  When you finally get back on 
the job, I'm trying out your little trick at home
on the guys, at the next fire. I've always wondered
why our station's SCBA fill rates were so high.
Now I know why.. The men were too hot while
working!" Charlie groused.

Chet and Mike laughed.

Mike cocked his wrapped head at the sound of
the laying foam finally swallowing up all of the flaming
truck mockup. "Ah, ha.. We've turned a curve.
The building, next, after that truck, won't be hard to 
extinguish now that its fuel source is smothered. Hear
that, Kelly? The fire's quieting even though the flames
probably still look the same. It's dying out now."

"I hear it. It was kinda growling and hollow before,
now it just sounds like a really big camp fire."

"That's the distinction between the growth and
death of a fire. Remember those sounds." Stoker 
told him.  Boot seemed to agree and he barked.

About ten minutes later, station 51's fuel fire exercise
was over and the next scenario was set up
for the next station on the rosters to complete.

Chet was told to wrap up his hose teams and wash away
the foam for the next group to use the test site.

Station 51 was released to return to base and their
regular duties.

--------------------------------------------------
Mike was laughing with the guys in the kitchen
when Chet made his way to the engine and his
potential new station assignment at the engine
chemical panel.

Gage had come by to wash his hands before lunch
when he noticed Kelly quietly surveying that
side of the engine with his hands in his pockets.
"Chet, are you actually moping?" he joked,
his shoes skidding to a halt from his whistling
jog to the locker room sinks. "I don't believe
I've ever seen you do that before.. Well," he
amended, "maybe only once or twice before."

"Oh, hi Gage." Kelly said glumly, sitting on 
the running bumper of the engine. 

Boot seemed to notice that Chet was feeling 
blue because he bolted out of the kitchen, 
dropping the roll of paper towels he had 
stolen from Marco, and immediately
skittered across the slippery floor to nuzzle
a nose under Chet's ace wrap gloved hands.

Kelly winced a bit with the move on his still
healing hands but he immediately
ignored that and petted Boot's long back.
"Hi, Boot. Look,... you guys didn't have to 
come out here. I'll be in for lunch in a sec. I...
just got away for a moment to do some 
....thinking..."

"Oh yeah?" Johnny said, his earlier kidding turning
respectful and serious for once. "What about?
You're gonna be a richer man come Sunday when
you finally pass your finals.. An engineer pays,
what? Eighty dollars more a week than a regular
hose man? And you know, come to think of it,
you're gonna be making fifty dollars more
a week than either Roy or I. " Johnny put 
a shoe on the engine's bumper which Chet 
promptly pushed off to rub with the white towel 
that he now carried around with him out of habit.  
"Hey.. hey...  watch the scuffing! I gotta 
account for the public appearance of Red 
in spite of how much the rest of you guys 
like to dirty her up."

That surprised John. "Oh really. Now it's you,
versus us? Is all this standby engineer promotion
stuff going to your head?"

Chet looked immediately abashed and suddenly 
sheepish.. "Well,... " Then he squared his shoulders
and only flinched a little under Johnny's angry stare.
"...Yes... I guess.."

Johnny's face melted from suspiciously malicious
to a broad sh*t eating grin. "Well, good. Now you're
finally starting to sound like Mike Stoker. I'm proud 
of ya, Chet.. Come here and stop feeling guilty.
After all, this pumper man job thing's only gonna be 
temporary and we all know it.." And Johnny's 
arm wrapped around Kelly's shoulder in an 
affectionate hug which turned into a raiding 
noogie, and soon the two friends fell into a 
wrestling match on the floor that Boot happily 
referee-d and watched over with loud bellowing 
barks. 

Of course, the struggle and grunting commotion
brought everyone running. Soon, bets of who
would pin who first filled the air and even Mike got
into it despite his blindfolding bandages.


Right then, the station alarm went off .....
 
------------------------------------------
Photo :  Mike Stoker, looking dashing.

Photo : Charlie Atkins from 110's.

Photo : Engine 51's chemical dials.

Photo : Burning fire in a test building burn.

Photo : Boot and Chet, in the same small chair.

Photo : Johnny and Chet having a heart
            to heart talk by the engine.

*********************************
From :"Roxy Dee" <laterrapincabesa@hotmail.com>  
Subject : Instinct~~  
Date : Wed, 19 Feb 2003 01:26:19 +0000  

   
The call came through, ending the wrestling match
in short order.

##Squad 51. Child down, at the McGregor baseball field. 
9 Greenway Pass. Cross street, Niven Boulevard.
9 Greenway Pass. Cross street, Niven Boulevard. 
Time out, 13:07##

"Cap!" Stoker said, ignoring Boot who was pulling 
on his leg to get him out of the way of the squad's 
bumper as Johnny and Roy wrote out their call slip 
and opened the rescue truck's doors. Mike grabbed 
onto the edge of the wall map to steady himself 
from Boot's  protective-of-the-one-hurt activity 
below.

Captain Stanley piped up after acknowledging the 
run on radio frequency. "Yeah, what is it Stoker?"

"That's my ball field. Let me go with them."

Stanley looked up sharply.
"I can't authorize that. Stoker. You're on medical leave.
And besides that fact, you're still wrapped up like a m-"

"Cap, I know those kids! They're on my Big Brother
program. It's gonna bug me not knowing who's in 
trouble."

Boot was still hanging onto Mike's pants leg when 
Cap finally said. "All right. Get in there. And I'll tell 
you the real reason why I'm letting you go with 
them. One of your kids may have been the arsonist 
who was responsible for your eyes getting burned."

"What?!" Mike gasped. His shock and surprise were
plain even through the white kerlix concealing most
of Mike's face.
 
Cap sighed.
"Gage, DeSoto you didn't hear this.. Stoker, the kid 
you're looking for is Jeremy Conners, he mentioned
something about Max, knowing details about the
warehouse blaze that injured you. See what you 
can scrounge up."

"Thanks, Cap..I will. " Mike said, turning his bandaged 
eyes towards the squad, but Boot still stubbornly  
held him in a firm grip by the ankle.

"Boot, let him go.." Cap ordered the hairy mutt 
"guarding" Stoker. The shaggy dog dropped his 
hold on Mike's foot immediately and sat next to 
Cap as the garage doors finished rolling up into 
their housing. Stoker climbed in fast when Roy 
stepped out of the squad to make room for him 
to sit between them. DeSoto guided Mike's head 
into the cab before he got back behind the wheel.

Chet came jogging up and he handed over 
Stoker's helmet from the engine for him to wear. 
"You let me know what happens, Mike. They're 
my kids too.."

"I can do you one better Kelly." Roy promised him. 
"Get on your HT. Listen for our med call on Rampart's 
base station channel.. It can be done. KMG 365-B, 
sub two. We'll still be in the ten mile range and open 
to you. That way, you'll know the minute we do about 
what's up. Just don't speak up or L.A. will hear you."

"Nice tip. I'll do that." Kelly said, and patted the 
squad roof to let Roy know that all feet, dog and 
human, were clear of the tires.

Roy, John and Mike drove quickly out of the 
station, turning left onto the street with sirens and 
lights on full.

Chet and Cap in the bay crouched by Boot, and both men
absently petted him. "Hey Cap, just how much trouble are
we in for letting a blinded fireman go to a rescue scene?"
Kelly asked.

"Could be plenty. But, I've special leeway when it comes 
to investigating a fire crime and that's what I'm banking 
on to bail my butt with the chief. If Stoker stays off the
radio, like I know he will, headquarters will never know 
he's out there with them." Stanley snorted.

"Glad you let him go."

"Like I had any other choice? I don't think twenty 
Boots could've stopped Stoker from riding along.." 
Hank quipped, pointing to their mascot who was 
playfully tugging on their shoe laces. "Come on, 
let's put lunch in the oven. We'll eat when they get 
back. "
 
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
The squad arrived at the park on the north side of
the reserve's four fields. Stoker was able to tell them 
which ball diamond was the McGregor field because of 
his knowledge of the park's layout.

Roy and Johnny screeched to a halt in the parking lot
nearest a crowd of kids milling about on top of the 
rickety graffiti painted, wood tiered bleachers.

"Mike, do you know your way around here well enough?"
DeSoto asked as he pulled out the biophone, drug box
and 02 from the storage compartment of the squad.

"Yeah, I'll be fine. I hear Old Ben in the concession stand.
I'll let him lead me to the bleachers so I can talk with
the kids. Just find out what's wrong. It's killing me not 
knowing what's happening here."

It soon became clear that finding someone 
to be Mike's eyes to navigate the area wasn't 
necessary. 

"Coach! Hey guys, look! It's Coach! He's all right!" 
said an older boy of twelve in a dingy baseball outfit.
Then two baseball teams of kids flooded around Mike 
Stoker enthusiastically in a cheer and even Old Ben 
lifted his head to peer myopically from the concession 
stand.

Gage was irritated by the throng, 
"Hey ...hey ...hey, now we're on a rescue call. 
Who called the station about a hurt or sick child?" 
he said lifted his medical boxes high over the 
children's milling circle around them.

One little girl piped up. "Oh, you must mean Susan."
she said snidely. "She made us call for help from 
the park pay phone because she said she was dizzy 
again."

"Does Ben know about this?" Mike asked incredulous.

"Nah, he don't know.." said another boy. "You know how
deaf he gets sometimes. He told us there's no way
he's leaving the popsicle cooler. Guess the older boys
have been stealing too much behind his back. Must
have thought we were trying to trick him again.
Why are your eyes wrapped like that, Coach?"

Roy rubbed his nose, looking at the tiny young man.
"Look just forget Coach's eyes for a minute.
Where's Susan? Least we can do is take a look at 
her to see if she's really ok." DeSoto turned.
"Mike, do you have State authorized consent 
of guardianship over these kids when you're on the 
premises? I don't see any adults nearby that look 
like they belong to any of these kids here.
We may have to treat her."

"I do... Susan's one in the Big Sister program under my
authority. This is All-Clubs week and sounds like
all my kids are here today. All I know is that she's 
a fourth grader at the Home which is only a block 
away to the north." Stoker said. "There ARE no parents 
as all these guys are fostered out through the
State Home there. Usually Old Ben has his grown 
daughter psychologist helping to keep an eye on things 
during Free Day like this. I'm not hearing her voice 
anywhere. Don't know why she's not here right now. .
If she had been, this whole situation might not 
have happened the way it's happening right now."

"Mike, your authorized consent is all we need at
the moment. Try to calm down." Johnny said. 
Then he pointed out a random kid from the noisy
bunch. "You! Son! Yeah, you! Take us to where 
Sue is, pronto like. It might be serious." he said
letting his frustration of not finding their patient
ooze out of every pore.

The strapping flame haired boy protested. 
"Gee. What a grouch. You sound like my ex-step 
dad."

"Jeremy Conners..!" Stoker admonished recognizing
the voice that he had overheard.

"S-Sorry, Coach. Bad habit."

Gage put on a grin he didn't feel.
"I promise we'll be a lot less grumpy after 
we make sure Susan's not in any kind of medical 
trouble. So lead the way and we'll be nice as pie 
through it all."

"She's under that gum tree. She crawled over there a 
few minutes ago. But she's probably faking it again. 
Like last time."

DeSoto did a double take at that news.  Then he
remembered how tall kids tales could really get 
and dismissed the remark as exaggerated.

Roy and John ran over to the tree with their equipment
to the small blond headed tom boy appearing girl lying 
face down in the shade.
 
They left Stoker and his young fans behind.

Gage grabbed for the fourth grade girl's brachial pulse. 
"She's viable. Around 100." Then he bent down to 
check the quality of her respirations. "Hey, Susan, 
can you hear me?" Johnny listened to the back of 
her chest without moving her. "She's breathing, but I'm 
hearing substantial wheezing." he reported. 
"Could be asthma since her upper airway's clear." Gage
lifted his head and shook her shoulder. "Susan ! Hey! 
We're with the L.A. County Fire Department and 
we're here to help you out. Now, come on and 
open your eyes."

She didn't respond.

Gage pinched the loose skin on the child's arm to further
fine tune test her awareness. Susan only groaned and 
didn't try to pull away from the pain or attempt to 
open her eyes. "She's groggy. About a six on the 
Glasgow, Roy." and he bent to check her eyes 
with a penlight. "She's definitely not faking anything 
here. Slight dialation on both pupils, and she's 
getting more dyspneic by the moment."

Meanwhile, Roy was losing his medical history source.
Jeremy Conners was edging away from the scene.
"Wait... wait ..wait, where are you going? I need
to talk to you.." DeSoto said to him.

"The game's going on.. I gotta get back.." the street wise
Jeremy said. He started to turn away but Roy grabbed
his uniform sleeve as he prepared an oxygen mask for 
Johnny to give to the downed girl. "Hang on. Just 
a minute more all right? Tell me about that last time 
this happened to her. Can you do that?"

The red headed boy seemed unnaturally nervous 
around the paramedics, and he squirmed in Roy's 
grip. "I don't remember. It was earlier this spring. 
I.. Uh... She forgot to bring her...onhal.. unhal.."

"Her inhaler?" 

"Yeah, that's it. Now let me go.." The boy said,
yanking his arm away and he danced out of range 
nimbly. He made tracks back to the grandstand 
across the parking lot and nearly crashed into one 
of its posts when he made sure Roy and John 
weren't following him. 

Johnny Gage had finished his assessment of the girl.
"Not a mark on her." Only then did he sit her up 
against the tree to help ease her increasingly labored 
breathing. He took the mask from Roy and set the 02's 
delivery on light before setting it firmly over Susan's 
nose and mouth. He then began to search her pockets 
for forms of ID and for the missing inhaler.

"We gotta move fast or she'll quit breathing on us."
Gage said.

Roy's face frowned as he took a BP. "70 systolic.
I'm getting on the phone early. A doc can order
epinephrine at least."

"Here, guys." a voice said and an inhaler plunked 
down onto the grass between two tree roots at Roy's 
feet.

Johnny and Roy looked up from Susan.

Mike Stoker was being led over to them by 
two of the street gang players from his baseball team. 
"I made the kids check the outfield for anything 
belonging to her thinking things she had in her 
pockets could have fallen out during a rough play. 
They say her name's on it." he informed his 
coworkers.

Gage snatched up the tiny inhaler and read its details.
"Albuterol. MDI dosage .15 ml per inhalation." He sniffed
its mouthpiece. "Looks like she didn't use this today at all,
Roy."

"Got it.." and Roy connected a link on the phone 
with Rampart.

"Thanks Mike, but I don't know if having this will do 
any good. We don't have a positive ID on her yet.
She's carrying no identification cards. No med bracelet.
No nothing! I wish to G*d that you had your eyesight 
back right about now so we know for sure that it's her."
Gage complained. He started loosening and 
freeing the girl's clothes from around her waist, chest 
and neck. He began setting up an EKG.

"What's she wearing?"

Johnny muttered. "What? Stoker, we 
don't have time for this.."

"Humor me, Gage. I don't need to see to 
positively identify her. And I'm the only one
who can. Most of these kids only know 
each other by their made up street names."

"Well.." Johnny exclaimed in exasperation. 
He held up the jersey top he had removed from 
the girl. "It's uh, sort of like a gray and blue baseball 
uniform. But she's wearing no cap."

"What number's on the front?"

"Fourteen."

"It's her. Guaranteed. These kids are very territorial about
letting others wear their team jerseys. Doesn't happen.
Susan's got short whitish, blond hair and a star shaped
birthmark on her left cheek bone." Mike said.

Johnny checked the girl for such a mark. It was 
there. "Well, I'll be.." he smiled. "Stoker you just
earned yourself a day off from dinner detail the
instant your butt's back on duty."

"I'll take it.... Anything else I can do?" Mike said.

Gage watched Roy give his medical report to 
the hospital and said. "Yeah, kneel down next
to me right where you are and help me keep tabs 
on her resp rate. We may have to switch over to 
the resuscitator. Here, the apparatus is at your
two o'clock. Think you can be a head vent?"

"I can do it blind." 

"I know you can.." Johnny said seriously. 
"Be right back. I'm going for the defibrillator.." 
and he rose and ran to the squad full tilt.
"Roy!  Pulse's 140 and rising.."


DeSoto was completing his initial report.
"...Vitals signs are showing acute distress.
Pulse 140 and bounding. Respirations 26 and
shallow. Marked wheezing even in Trendelenberg
position. BP is 70 systolic. I can send you a
strip on lead two."

Dr. Brackett replied and Roy could hear his alarm.
##Do it.##

"10-4, Rampart. Transmitting, lead two.." Roy said.

##51, what's her consciousness level? I'd 
feel better if we had a controlled airway on her.
I'm reading a V-tach of 140 with precursor
PVCs. Does she have a gag reflex?##

Mike lifted up the child's 02 mask and
slid a finger into her open mouth and down 
Susan's tongue, briefly touching the back of it. 
The little girl's stomach heaved in immediate reflex 
and he quickly stopped his move so she wouldn't 
complete the attempt to vomit.

"That's affirmative, Rampart." Roy sighed.
::Damn..::

##Ok, we'll tackle this head on, without one. 
Prepare to administer one dose of the patient's
inhaler. Rig a nebulizer of a second dose to
a humidified ambu on standby with 2 ml's 
diluted respiratory saline. Keep monitoring
all vital signs closely. 51, is a defibrillator nearby? 
Albuterol with shock sometimes brings 
about acute cardiac dysrhythmias.##

Roy saw Johnny hoofing it back with the unit
across the parking lot. He had also grabbed
a long wooden stretcher board for CPR 
and transport ease. "10- 4, Rampart. We 
have it in hand."

##Start an IV first, 51. We'll want an open line
if she crashes. Make it of normal saline, a 500 ml
bag. And keep it open only. Give me another
set of vitals after her initial medication is in. And
keep the EKG strip to base running.##

"10- 4, ah,..Administer one dose inhaler post IV 
normal saline, 500, to keep open. Standby nebulizer 
second dose with 2 cc's respiratory saline in an 
ambu bag. Preparing for possible counter shock. 
Vitals to follow post med. Continuing the EKG send.
10-4." DeSoto said. He lowered the phone. "How's 
she doing Mike?" Roy asked in worry.

"Still attempting inhalations. But her rate's up to
36."

"Tidal air?"

"Building. She's barreling out a bit."

"Johnny, let's move. She can't wait."
Roy said, taping off the IV. "She's trapping
air already."

Gage scrambled to Susan's head, dropping
the defibrillator paddles he had laid out and 
he shifted the girl from the tree to Mike's 
shoulder so she sat against him with her 
head tipped well back. 
  
Together, Roy and Johnny fitted and triggered
the inhaler into her mouth so the medicine
entered deeply into her lungs. Gage immediately 
listened to her chest with a stethoscope,
holding his breath, while Roy and Mike held
her still. Roy replaced the mask back over 
her face as she began to cough harder and 
harder. 

Stoker whispered into her ear, stroking
her hair to comfort her.  "It's ok, Susan, 
tastes bad but it'll work good. Give it a second 
or two to absorb, hon... just wait, then it won't 
be so hard to breathe. It's all right. 
Coach's right here."

Susan jerked with an involuntary cry,
suddenly stiffening, and her gasping stopped.

The EKG fluctuated and the two paramedic 
firemen froze, their eyes glued to the heart 
monitor, and Mike, as he listened, as it 
danced irregularly for one second. For two.

Gage reached for the ambu bag.

But then, Susan sighed quite normally, and
all of her respiratory distress ended. 
Her breathing deepened and eased and 
soon, the rapid heartbeat on the monitor 
smoothed out into calmer rhythm.  

A minute later Susan's eyes cracked open, 
swollen and red, as she came to fully.

Johnny sighed likewise in relief at the positive
proof of her now open lungs. "That's my girl.
Hi there. It's ok.." he said softly as she began
to cry. "The worst is over.. It's ok..
Mike, you can lay her back down again.
Mike, you can let go of her. She's fine now."

Susan's fright grew as she became more 
aware of being lowered to the ground and
the fact that strange firemen were now hovering 
over her instead of her playmates. She immediately 
screwed her eyes shut again. The heart monitor
blipped out a faster rate.

Gage took her IV free hand into his own.
"Susan, Susan. Now listen to me."
Johnny soothed as his partner and Stoker 
wrapped her in a warm blanket.   "I know 
you're scared, and I know that medicine's
probably making you sleepy. But you're gonna be 
all right now. So go ahead and take a nap. I 
promise, you'll wake up in a nice big, comfortable 
bed later tonight in a place a whole lot better 
than this nasty old root knotted lawn here in 
the ball park, ok?"

The siren of the approaching ambulance
grew louder, startling his young friend,
so Mike added. "A hospital doctor's gonna look
at you next, just so we know you're better
for good."

"Coach?" She sobbed. "I- is that you?" she
said, peering up in confusion at Mike's
wrapped eyes.

"Yeah, you're not dreaming."

"But--"

"Shh, rest. Don't talk. My answer is, 
Yeah, I'll watch your mitt for you. Got 
it right here." and he held it up.
 
"Scout's honor?"

"Scout's honor.."

"Ok, and watch my jersey, too. *Yawn*"
Susan's cheek snuggled up against Stoker's hand
where he held her face around the 02 mask
and fell asleep instantly.

Roy called Rampart, smiling from ear
to ear, with a glowing vitals set for Kel 
Brackett.

##I saw the improvement. Glad the one 
dose protocol did the trick. Now get her in here
ASAP.## he grumbled happily.

"10-4, Rampart.." Roy replied, waving
a "Come on!" to the attendants hustling it 
across the parking lot.

They arrived and positioned the gurney
near the sleeping child. Roy set the 
empty long board first onto the cot and 
Gage said, "Ok, let's load and go."
he told them. "No need to semi-elevate her. 
She's a very stable asthmatic recoveree. 
The board's only an arrest precaution." 
He said moving the EKG, portable 02, drug box,
and the defibrillator to the foot of the cot.

"Easy. " Roy said loudly for Stoker's benefit. 
"This one's special."

"Right.." One of the two burly attendants
gently gathered Susan up into his arms without
waking her, blankets and all.
 
"Is he going in too?" the second attendant asked,
gesturing at Mike with his bandaged wrapped
head.  Stoker was leaning against the tree, reining
in his reactions about the nearly soured rescue 
of the little girl.

"Him? No, no no. He's a fireman on medical leave.
He's with us. Go ahead. My partner's riding in
with you." Roy answered.

"Ok, Joe.. Whatever you say.." he shrugged
in a New York accent.

DeSoto watched the man leave after the 
girl laden gurney and Gage.

 

Then Roy walked the few yards back to the tree
where Mike rested his head.

Roy tapped his shoulder.
"You coming with, Stoker?"

Trembling, Mike lifted his head to face DeSoto.

"Oh   uhhhh.. " he said thinking hard. "No." 
Stoker said, still cradling Susan's jersey top and 
baseball mitt. "I'll take a cab back to the 
station in a while. I want to hang around to 
see if I can locate Jeremy and his friends or 
even Old Ben's daughter. I want to bend their 
ear a bit about what they've been up to lately 
since I've been gone."

"Suit yourself. If you're not back by dark, we'll
send out a search party.." DeSoto quipped.

Stoker waved a get outta here gesture at
the departing footsteps he heard. "Thanks 
Roy, for not letting her die." He called out after
DeSoto. "I don't know what I could've done 
if she.." and his voice cracked.

"Hey, just relax. She didn't die. Johnny and I make
it a point to never lose any kids on any of our 
runs as that would be a gross violation 
according to BOTH our personal rule books."

"Thanks just the same, Roy."

Roy stopped and turned back.
"No, thank YOU. Your remote consent 
to treat, power-of-attorney, over Susan made 
all the difference in the world today. I'm just 
glad you decided to ride along with us 
on your sudden instinct like that."

"Yeah.." Stoker said. "So am I."

"See ya, later, Mike. I'll keep you posted." Roy
said. 

"See ya." 

Soon, ambulance and squad left the ball park and
their sirens faded into the distance, leaving 
Mike alone in the parking lot surrounded by
wind and seabird calls.

Then Mike turned his face into the sun and
felt his way back to the grandstand where he
sat on the hot planking, pretending to be 
engrossed in the ongoing game he couldn't see, 
until.....

--------------------------------------------
Photo: Cap squinting in bright sun wearing
           full gear.

Photo : Roy looking down on a victim in a close up.

Photo:  Johnny Gage reassuring a small crying girl.

Photo: Dr. Brackett quickly scanning an EKG strip.

Photo: Mike Stoker looking down.

*********************************
From : "Cory Anda" <andacory@hotmail.com>  
Subject : The Tinder Kid  
Date : Wed, 19 Feb 2003 21:53:18 +0000  
 
"Hey Coach.. What are you doing here?" an adolescent
voice said, cutting through the sound of the active baseball
game playing on the field. "Last I knew, you were 
wearing angel wings in a flaming tin can of a factory, 
squashed flat. Heh."

:: Gotcha.. ::Mike thought in triumph. His mind raced. 
::So you were at my fire, Max. And you knew about 
the resulting roof collapse accident. Now how does Jeremy 
Conners fit into all this? ::But out loud, Stoker said. 
"Hello,  Maximillion." Mike smiled through his bandages. 
He could just imagine the dark skinned, slightly overweight
boy, taking the seats two at a time, to get up to him. 
"Can't keep a good man down I guess." :: Or a good 
fire crew.:: his mind amended.  "My crew bailed me out, 
last second, that night. Have a seat and take a load 
off for a while. I'd love to catch up on what I've been 
missing around the old dugout." 

He heard the boy's jaws cluck noisily as 
he chewed something. Mike fervently hoped it 
wasn't a tobacco plug again. He couldn't tell for 
the hot afternoon wind was blowing in the wrong 
direction. 

"Not much. Same old same old." Max drawled in 
heavy L.A. inner city accent. Then his voice changed. 
"Say..Coach, you feeling ok? You're kinda pale, 
even more than you honkys usually are." Max said.

"Oh, I see. I'm gone for under a week and suddenly I'm
demoted to being a honky instead of a hose jockey. 
Thanks alot." he teased. "What does that make you then,
Max, eh?" he said punching his friend's shoulder in jest.
"Hmm.. A darkie instead of a delinquent juvie? G*d 
forbid.." he moaned dramatically.

"No, a darkling. Get it right." Max found Stoker's 
error on city lingo very hilarious and he let out a 
rich peel of laughter. "Gonna give me a reason why
you're looking like a ghost, Coach? Or are ya just 
gonna be funny and 'burb talk me to death?"

Mike's amused grin fell away into seriousness.
"Susan just gave us a good scare down there.  
She's the reason why I came here to the park with
Johnny and Roy today before my eyes healed if 
you're wondering."
 
"Little ol Susan? What's she got to do wid
you, man?" 

"She got a little sick just now because of her asthma.
And it almost got dangerously out of hand. Didn't you
see me trying to help out?  Surprising since your 
favorite game roost in the scoreboard sign has the 
best overview of the whole parkland."

Max scoffed. "I didn't see nuthin'!  That little liar's 
been trying to wimp outta playing good all summer.
Besides, Jeremy told me she was faking it."

::Yeah, so then where were you to miss the sirens
and all the excitement of the last hour?:: his
conscience fathomed. Again, Mike spoke differently
from his mind's track. "Never mind. You had to 
be there." Stoker sighed. The callousness of the 
city kids he coached had long ago ceased to 
surprise him.  

"Here.. Hold out ya hand.." Max said. "Got somethin'
for ya.."

Mike lifted a palm, and he felt a slender stick with a 
weight pressed into it. He smelled a rich, mellow 
sweetness coming from the frozen treat in his
hand. "Ooo, banana! My fav. Thanks for the popsicle."

"No problem. Got one for me, too." the boy said 
proudly and he leaned into Stoker's arm, trying to
tip him over in a play wrestle. But as usual, Mike
was an unmoving stone on the bench. But that
didn't keep Max from testing out his young strength
on his favorite program coach.

"How'd ya pay for it?" Mike said while Max grunted
with a failing effort to budge him off his place
on the bench.

Max bristled tangibly and Mike felt him stiffen and
let go of him."Some gratitude! Here I do for a friend 
and what do I get? Snoopy questions. What do ya 
take me for? A criminal?"

Mike schooled his lips to stillness so the boy wouldn't catch
on. He thought. ::Yeah, the worst kind. One that
would burn down old buildings with a total disregard
for any possible loss of life. :: But out loud, Mike said. 
"No. I never pass judgement on anyone without proof. 
I was just wondering since your uniform doesn't have
any pockets to hold loose change and you travel light
with nothing but your bike usually, when you come here."

Max frowned and rubbed his curly ebony hair where it
itched his game sweaty face. "I.....uh,..got coins in my
roost, Coach.. Jeremy and I got a whole tuna can 
full up there from his paper route. " he lied.

"Ah, I see." And Stoker let the subject matter drop.
It would be easy enough to ask Old Ben later if
his popsicle cooler had been raided yet for the day.
"So, how's the game going?" he waved a hand 
absently in front of him.

"Going good. Smitty's on first, Tiny's on third and it's
Cruz up to bat. I'd say we'll smear da other team
next inning up." Max said, slurping noisily on 
his popsicle as it melted in the hot sun. "We're six
to nothin."

Mike ate his, too, just as fast. "Go Zephyrs!" he called
out. And got an enthusiastic round of cheer whistles 
from his kids on the field. He grinned despite himself
and then parked his licked clean empty popsicle stick 
in his polo shirt pocket. He held out his hand to Max
without saying anything for his, just as the older boy
was about to sail it like a spear onto the playing field.

"You sure you can't see?" Max said grumbling as
he handed it over.

"Not yet, but soon they tell me. Close that mouth 
before you draw flies, Maxie boy. I just know you very 
well. You should start collecting these from the other 
kids and save them for me. I collect these sticks for 
Tiny."

"Whatever for?"

"He likes to build firetrucks out of them." Stoker said.
"I already have one at home from him that looks like 
the engine from my station. It's on my mantle above 
the fireplace."

Max's voice changed. "Oh, you mean the Ward LaFrance."
he said in an admiring tone. "I like dat one, too."

Stoker angled in like a blood hound. "So you like
Big Red. Didn't know that."

"Oh, yeah, Coach." Max sighed. "I's specks there ain't a 
fire truck around that I don't know the name of...I like
the way they look."

"Oh, really? So why don't you ever come to the 
firehouse with me and the other kids for tours?"

"Man, stuff like dat's for little kids. And I'm almost twelve."
Max declared. "I got other ways of seeing them.."

Mike felt a chill. "Oh, yeah. What do you do?"

"I go to fires. Lots of em happening in the neighborhood.
Then I can get real close. And it's real odd sometimes, 
cause usually Jeremy's right dere with me even if I 
hadn't showed him where da burning building was first." 
Max said.

Stoker managed to swallow around his dry throat.
"H-how do you know when there's a fire?"

"Use your noggin, Coach. Or did that get just as
bashed up as your eyes did? From a police scanner, 
man. There's one in Old Ben's concession stand."

That snapped Mike out of his fears. "There is?"

"Yeah. He keeps it under the popsicle cooler. 
And I'm the ONLY kid who knows it's even
THERE." He said proudly. "Didn't you know that 
Old Ben used to be a hose jockey just like you? 
And just like Jeremy Conner's dad before he got
burned up!"

Mike shook his head no and didn't say anything 
for a while for a long stretch of time. Stoker didn't like
the new thoughts forming in his head. Feeling disturbed,
he tried to focus on the happy sounds of the game 
entering its final inning.

Then he heard Max trickle, "Uh oh.. Gotta go, Coach."

"Why? You just got here."

"The shrink's comin..Old Ben's daughter."

Mike said, "Victoria won't bother you. She doesn't
bother me.."

"Well dat's just you, Coach. She psycho analyzes 
us juvies all the time and it's startin to get on 
my nerves big time. She's not nice like you and I've 
given her plenty of times to get dat way. Gotta split 
before she sees me. And if she asks, I wasn't here 
talking wid ya.."

"Deal.."

Just like that, Maximillion was gone.

A half minute later, Mike heard fresh sneakers
climb the bleachers to his level. Out loud, he called, 
"Hi, Vickie.. Long time no see..." he joked.

The woman actually stopped in her tracks in shock.
"How did you do that? I could have been anyone
from the game.."

"I'm clairvoyant. You should know blindness causes
the other senses to sharpen."

"Not that fast."

"Well, guess my case's the exception to the rule." 
he replied.  He waited for Victoria to sit down 
next to him before he said, "Say, Vic. Where were 
you about a half an hour ago?"

"I went to get Dad some more ice for the popiscle
cooler from the supermarket. Why?"

That answer got Mike mad. "Don't you know you 
have to keep an eye on these kids when they're 
out of the Home?  Your father's not physically able 
to keep tabs on them well enough to matter anymore."

"Mike, why are you getting so angry?"

"Because just now, I responded to Susan Jordan's 
rescue call with the squad when she suffered a severe 
asthma attack."

"Susan? What?... Where?!" 

Mike could almost see the psychologist's face 
search around for the little girl. "Vic, sit down. Just sit
down! Most likely, she's still at Rampart getting treated
or at least waiting for the duty counselors to come pick 
her up to take her back to the Home." Then his anger
really went ballistic. "I'm surprised you didn't even 
notice she was MISSING until I told you she had fallen
ill."

"Mike Stoker, that's enough!" Victoria flared. "I am a
volunteer in this park. Not a paid employee like you
and my father are.  I only come here to lend an ear, 
to help these poor kids work out some of their 
hostile feelings about being abandoned by their families.
But only if they come to me. I'm not responsible for 
them or for what they do outside the Home."

"Yeah, well somebody should be! There are problems
I could tell you about that crop up out here
that you couldn't even dream of.."

"Try me, Coach. I'm a licensed expert." 
Vickie said in a steely voice.

Stoker hung his head in shame. "Sorry. I just get
a little possessively protective of these kids 
having none of my own."

"I get the same way I'll have you know." she
said, a little less defensive. "So, who'd you talk to
that got you so up in arms?"

"What?"

"The popsicle sticks. You've got two in your pocket
and I know you only eat one a game so you can
stay fit for work."

Stoker subconsciously felt where they lay in his
shirt pocket with a thumb, and he drew them out,
fingering them nervously in a palm. 

Then he sighed in heavy resignation.
   
From the beginning, Mike Stoker told Victoria all he
had learned from the kids and Cap about the fire that had
trapped him and about what he newly suspected about
his closest and dearest project kid. He only hoped that 
it would get the ball rolling fast enough to save him. 

"And just who is this child whom you think is so
deeply disturbed about his father's death? We've 
dozens of pyro potentials in the Home that fit
that psychological history profile."

"The boy I'm referring to is Jeremy Conners."

"Oh my G*d.." and Victoria sucked in her breath.
"He's not a pyro risk in my files."

"Put two and two together, Vic! That's the only 
conclusion we can draw here.. oh, man. His night visit
to Cap was all a sham. A cry for help. I can see that now.
And his finger pointing at Max was just afterthought." 
Stoker stood, very agitatedly, and Victoria had to 
grab his arm to help him keep his balance. "Where is he 
now?" Mike asked urgently. "Do you see him anywhere?"
 
Victoria's heart began to pound when Mike's new
found worry began to fill her soul as well. "Uh,.. 
L-let me look..uhh.. The ballgame's over, Mike." Her voice
trembled. "All the kids are going back to the Home 
from what I can see. Even Dad's closing up shop."

"You sure."

"Yes, straight back. I'm counting.... ten bikes moving
across the field."

"We're one short."

"I subtracted Susan's bike."

"Think, Vickie! The team's got twelve kids on it. Oh, Lord..
And I'll bet when we get to the Home that every bike will 
be there, but Jeremy's."

----------------------------------------------------------

Photo:    Kids surrounding home plate in a Park.

Photo:  Three inner city kids by a palm tree with a bike.

Photo: Mike Stoker looking stern.

Photo: Stoker and Victoria the psych, disagreeing.

Photo : Kids sitting on a park bench waiting turn at bat.

Photo: Jeremy Conners, as catcher, looking up.

Photo : Victoria outside, looking worried.
 
**************************************** 
From : "patti keiper" <pattik1@hotmail.com>  
Subject : The Pecking Order  
Date :  Thu, 20 Feb 2003 06:45:13 +0000  
  
It was shortly after the squad had gone 
10-8 to Rampart with their newest patient. 

   "WwwooooHHHOOOOooooooo!" Chet 
war-whooped in the garage. 

The resulting echo around the bay brought
Cap out of his office on the run.  "Kelly just 
what the heck is going on out here? Why'dya
yell like that? Ya scared me half to death!"

"She's ok! She's ok!" Chet singsonged, dancing rings
around Marco and his captain. He even picked up Boot's
front feet and danced a jaunty jig with him.

Hank knew immediately what he was talking about.
"Oh, the kid call." he said drawly. Then his face picked
up. "Glad to hear it turned out all right, pal." and he 
started back to the mounting paperwork on his desk. 
He immediately about faced and asked. "Just uh,.
one thing... What was wrong with her? I didn't 
quite get all that paramedic stuff over the HT."

"A COPD case, Cap. That little girl had asthma so bad her
lungs almost sealed off. Gage and DeSoto managed to 
locate her inhaler and find out who she was in time to 
use it on her. And poof! They had an instant cure for a 
potential killer annnddd,.. It's another kid save in the bag for 
the magic dream team! That's what? Twenty kid calls in a 
row, no losses? That run was a thing of beauty!" Chet 
celebrated.

"Huh.. Imagine that." And Cap started walking back 
once more towards his office.

"I'm telling ya, Cap.." Chet called out after him. "You should
start taking some of those auxillary courses the chief
makes us take for us guys who work with the medics.."
He shouted when Cap's back totally disappeared.  
"You might enjoy learning something!!" he grinned 
jubilantly.

"Uh oh...." Marco trickled to his engine mate. "Now
you did it.."

Cap suddenly reappeared and glared at Kelly pointing 
the all mighty, much afeared finger right at his face. 

Chet cringed, stooped, and instantly picked up 
Boot as a security shield. 

"Are you saying that I know nothing about my 
job, Kelly?"

"No, Cap, I.... I..." Kelly stammered. " I...meant 
about all that medic stuff..heh... I....I.. just thought that 
you might want to.... educate yourself more on all 
that medical jargon that goes on over the biophone 
between the squad and Rampart by taking the same  
classes that, uh.... we...." he voice tapered off limply.

"That's sound advice there, Kelly. But I think you may
be just a bit ahead of yourself in the hierarchy.
Now, get THIS advice from ME. I know it will behoove 
you to educate yourSELF on just exactly what the rank
of CAPTAIN means." 

Kelly winced at the word "captain" and thereafter, 
at every repeating of the word.  He shrank smaller 
and smaller behind Boot's back, whom he held near 
to his face for dear life.

"Especially if that same CAPTAIN holds a vote on 
whether or not a mere regular time firemen, YOU,
will ultimately get Stoker's job on the engine until 
he returns .." Cap's voice had been rising higher 
and higher and louder and louder until even the 
unflappable Boot in Chet's arms started to whine. 
"Is that clear?!" Cap boomed at the curly haired
irishman.

"As crystal, Cap..." and Chet tried to chuckle 
weakily.

Hank held Kelly's eye in a scathing glare for 
almost a full ten seconds. Then he looked away 
and one hand snaked up from his hips to scratch 
Boot on the head in apology for scaring him while 
he dressed down an underling. "And put Boot down 
pronto."

"Yes, sir.. Right away, sir.." Kelly set Boot slowly down
on the floor and smoothed out his coat without daring 
to look away from Cap's disapproving stare. 

The shaggy dog immediately skittered out of Chet's 
reach, all four sets of claws scrambling on the cement 
floor in his haste to get away from the currently 
Hank hexed fireman. 

"Next time.. take it like a man, Kelly. Dogless!"

"Right, Cap. Thank you, Cap. Anything you say, Cap.."
Kelly kept on saying obeisances, withdrawing slowly,
until his back impacted the kitchen door. Then he 
hastily stumbled and bolted through the door 
for the sheltering illusion of the newspaper and the 
bodily comfort of the cushy leather couch.



Marco had been quietly watching the whole fiasco
the entire time. He was nonplussed and relaxed with 
his arms comfortably folded over each other. 
"He's right you know."

Cap's iron glare shattered into one of weariness
and he admitted. "I know that... I just wanted 
to vent on somebody. And he was the best target.
The fire investigation's not going anywhere and 
it's eating at me, Lopez."

"I can tell. You chewed up Chet and spit him
out pretty good there." he said, cracking a polishing
towel at the engine's side panel loudly to make
a point.

It was Cap's turn to wince. Hank immediately 
looked remorseful and bit his lip. "Maybe I should 
go in there and apologize to him....ya think?"

Marco stopped Cap before he got two paces.
"Uh,,..I'd... wait a while for the effect to sink in 
first if I were you."

"I'm afraid I don't understand, Marco.." Cap said
blankly..

"Well, Cap, it's like this.." Lopez said thinking while he
absently polished the same spot on the engine that
he had just shined a few moments before. 
"That was the first time I've ever seen Chet cower 
sincerely at one of your dressing downs since Johnny
became a medic."

"Really?" said Hank, straightening with pride. Then he
lowered his voice to a confidential whisper, glancing
towards the kitchen to make sure Chet didn't overhear. 
"I've been watching McConnike..Trying to ......imitate
him. " he said, gesturing thinking fingers to the air before
rubbing his lips thoughtfully. "That, what you just witnessed,
was how he used to ream MY rear way back then."

"Oh, I see. Displacement of aggression." Lopez 
quipped as he picked a new spot to polish on 
the engine chrome. "Turning full circle.. Maybe even...
disassociated revenge.. Clever.. Good way to deal 
with your burning hat/inspection day phobia."

Cap narrowed his eyes at Marco. "Lopez, stick to 
being a fireman. Somehow hearing Freudianisms 
coming from a man from south of the border just 
doesn't work for me.." Cap muttered. Then he 
retreated to the inbox work load that seemed only 
to have piled higher during the minutes he had
procrastinated while blowing up at Kelly.

Marco blinked several times, then he self-
consciously peered at his reflection in the engine's 
side view mirror, trying to see what Cap was talking 
about.  He saw Boot regarding him closely. 
"Hey boy. Do you think my growing a goutee' 
will help people start to take me more seriously?" 
he asked the attentive mutt while he pushed out his 
chin in an experiment.

Boot tipped his head to a funny angle and 
whined a doggy noise of puzzlement.

-------------------------------------------

Photo:  Cap dressing down Chet Kelly who's
            cowering behind Boot in his arms.

Photo : Cap's chew butt glare in closeup.

Photo : Marco, smiling and circumspect through
            the squad's open window.

Photo : Boot, barking into the acknowledging mike.

******************************* 
Date: Thu, 20 Feb 2003 13:28:08 -0800 (PST) 
From: "Sam Iam" <lafddispatcher@yahoo.com>   
Subject:  Kid Talk  

---------------------------------------------

"And again......." Mike Morton ordered.

Susan Jordan took in an even deeper breath
than before as the dark skinned intern listened
to her chest with his stethoscope. "How am I
doing now, doc?" she said breathlessly afterwards.

"Uh..hmph." Morton grunted. "Sounds like they're
going to have to be removed right away..." he
said.

Susan's eyes got as big as saucers in concern
where she sat upright on the treatment room 
gurney, but that change made Roy and Johnny's
little blond haired patient seem even cuter 
than a button.

"Doc.."Johnny warned with a grin and with his
voice, smacking the young doctor's arm with 
back of his hand. "Quit teasing her." 

"hmm? Oh! oh. oh.. I wasn't talking about your
lungs, Susan. Sorry... I meant these.." he said tapping
her hanging IV and the flowing O2 cannula she
still wore in her nose. "Actually, things sound 
really good now. The bronchospasms seem to have
dissipated completely."

"Finally..." Susan said as Dixie moved on Morton's
nod to free the little girl from her tubes. "I hate it
when that happens. I feel like a beached sperm whale
the whole time."

Morton gave another grunt, then asked. "Do you
usually get your asthma attacks when you exert-
I mean run around or ride your bike ever?"

"No.." Susan said. "Not ever."

"Well, what do you think triggered it today?"
Roy asked the child from where he leaned
near the exam room door still holding his
walkie talkie in his hand.

"I don't know.." Susan said evasively. "Maybe
because I got real mad I guess.."

"Mad about what?" Dr. Morton asked gently
as he helped her put on her windbreaker that Roy
had found in the park before the trip in.

Susan zipped her lips shut and dropped her 
head and watched as Dix secured a bandaid 
on her hand where the IV had been. 
Then she shot an uncomfortable glance up 
at Morton, Johnny and Roy. "It's a secret. 
A girl's one." she declared with defiance, 
wrinkling her nose as Dixie took off the 
cannula from around her face.

"Oh, I see." Nurse McCall said, fighting a smile.
"Well," she sighed expansively.. "If you gentlemen
would excuse us for a moment. Us girls are gonna
talk privately together, if you catch my drift.."

All three men in the room suddenly caught on
and hastened to make themselves scarce. Gage
fumbled with gathering up the portable EKG 
monitor while Roy grabbed the small oxygen
tank from the foot of the gurney, handing off
Johnny's helmet to him as he struggled through
the door with his load. Morton helped the
paramedics make their exit by holding the
door open for them. The paramedics and 
doctor all waved at the scowling child as they 
left.

"Take care Susan. Coach Stoker sends his best 
to ya.. Ahh!  Oops. heh." Gage said sheepishly
as the door nearly squashed him.

Soon, nurse and girl were alone.

---------------------------------------------------
Johnny made immediate tracks to the water
fountain along the wall, against which he piled the 
medical gear. Morton followed, looking to learn 
more from the medics before they had to leave. 

"Here, hold this.." Gage said to Roy, shoving his
helmet into Roy's stomach.

Being ticklish, Roy grabbed it without thinking. 
Then he made a face when he realized that
Johnny had outsmarted him in the helmet 
carrying game. Having no better way to
carry the extra item, he parked his own
back onto his head with a frown.

Gage smirked in triumph and he took a 
long pull from the icy water stream dancing
in front of his nose. "I'm just too fast for ya, 
Roy. Someday, you'll learn." he chuckled.

Mike Morton cleared his throat. "Fun and games
over yet?"

Roy and Johnny's grins fell away they both slipped
into professional mode. "Sure doc." Roy nodded.
"Well, uh.. it happened pretty much as Susan said
it did. She felt her chest getting tight and she
just crawled away from the game and trying to
will it away by resting under a shade tree. Only
her usual trick didn't work."

"Oh? Didn't she have her inhaler with her?"

"That's just it, doc." Johnny said wiping his mouth
free of water droplets. "We think she doesn't like 
the notion of needing one. Stoker had to scout 
around a baseball infield before he located it for us."

"Thanks. That'll help me figure out what to tell
the case worker when she gets here for post visit
instructions. Oh, yeah... How's Engineer Stoker 
doing? I haven't seen him since the night you fellas 
brought him in."

"Stoker?" Johnny said. "He's doing fine. Though
I do wish I knew more details about his eyesight 
prognosis, doc. He's clamming up about it."

"Nice try Gage. But I can't tell ya anything."

DeSoto lifted his head.
"Please, Doctor Morton. Y- You don't
have to give us much. I-it would really mean 
a lot to Johnny and me and the rest of the 
guys if we had something substantial to go on." 
Roy pleaded.

"All right, all right!" Morton said holding up his
hands in surrender. "I can tell you this much.."
he said, beckoning a come closer finger.

Roy and Johnny leaned in nearer with side long
glances at the people passing in the halls and
then confidentially, at each other.

Mike Morton whispered. "Nothing he's going to
face,.....will be bad news.."  And then the young 
African American doctor was off down the
corridor like a shot.. "See ya later, boys!" he 
called out as he rapidly departed.

Gage's mouth flopped open in wide disappointment
and he bellowed, "Oh, come on, doc. That's not fair.
You could have given us more than that...!!"

Morton shrugged hands and shoulders as he rounded
the bend, "Can't.." he replied tartly amused and 
pantomimed a zipper shutting firmly across his lips
and made good his escape.

Johnny was stuck looking at the place where 
he had last seen Morton's white tunic-ed 
back, gaping like a fish.

Roy leaned on the wall and crossed his elbows
over one another with a mystified grin. "I'd say
Morton beat you at your own game, Johnny.
He's even faster on the draw than you are."

"Would you just shut up.. And carry those 
two helmets like a man, you look ridiculous
wearing one in the hospital like that." And
he swiped Roy's headgear off his partner's 
head, thrusting it at him.

Roy suddenly snatched up the gear boxes 
and rabbit dashed for the supply desk. "Ha! 
You touched it last.." he teased and got out 
of range quickly before Gage realized that 
he'd been had yet again while still holding the 
"ball."   "And that's a tag back. So accept the
full consequences.... like a man.." he smiled.

"Hey!.. You'd kick a guy when he's down?!"
Gage shouted after him.

"Sure, why not? You aren't down, you're just a
little stung for being so cleverly outsmarted,
that's all." Roy said, pouring himself and
Johnny some coffee from Dixie's warming pot.

It took a full minute for Johnny to figure out
how to carry all the equipment, his talkie, AND two
helmets. He nearly dropped his run slate. 
Finally, Gage got a handle on his ungainly load
and he let loose a long suffering groan, trudging
slowly after him. "Thanks, pal.." he said 
sarcastically from behind a wall of gear.

"No problem, Junior.. And remind me to thank
Kelly for the Helmet Game idea when we get back. 
I think we're really going to have fun with it ."

"Speak for yourself.." Johnny grumbled as he
set all the gear and hats onto the desk in front 
of him.

"Here.."

"What?!" Johnny snapped. He felt a prod and
looked down to see a coffee cup nudging his light
blue shirt.

"You're gonna get thirsty lugging all that."

"You're all heart.." Gage said, snatching the cup from 
Roy gruffly.

"It's in my nature." Roy replied, draining his own 
in two swallows.

----------------------------------------------------


Dixie had finished getting Susan set for discharge
from the ER and then she got her into her
jeans and shoes to go along with the windbreaker.

The blond haired girl had jumped down from the 
gurney to go wait for her ride in the waiting room,
when Dix said. "Hang on a minute there, young lady.. 
You forgot this.." she said, holding out the Albuterol
inhaler Roy and Johnny had said was hers.

"Oh, that ol thing.. You can have it. I don't want
it.."

"Listen, sweety. That "old thing" saved your life
this afternoon. Now I think you owe it to your
personal counselor to at least be cordial enough 
to have it on your person for the next time you
get into the weeds. Don't you think?" she said,
lifting Susan's chin gently by the chin.

"I guess.." The girl said glumly, taking it reluctantly
from Dixie's hand.

"Here. Have a seat back up." Dixie said, patting
the gurney and the sheets lying rumpled there.
She surprised the unhappy child by hopping up 
onto the gurney too, taking her into her arms
in a mothering hug.

Susan relaxed immediately and almost started
to cry because it felt so good to be held.

Dixie sensed the child's fragile state, but she went
on.  "Now.. let's have that woman to woman talk 
before you have to go. I did hold up my part of the 
bargain by shooing all the men out of the room.."

"You did.." she sighed. "Guess I have to tell you
then, huh?"

"Yep." Dixie said, unwrapping her arms from their 
hug to straighten a messy curl back to its usual
place behind Susan's ear.

Susan took a deep breath in, fiddling with the
silver inhaler in her lap, before saying, "Jeremy Conners
said that he was going to make sure no more buildings,
like the one that killed his dad, stayed standing anymore.
I got really mad because he said he wasn't sorry for the 
one that hurt Coach."

Dixie blinked a bit at that, frowning. "Just what do 
you mean by that Susan..?" she whispered, making
sure her voice stayed calm even as the rest of her 
filled with a sudden sick dread.

"Don't you get it? Jeremy's proving himself to the
Skinheads Gang. He's trying to be picked to be their 
next firestarter ace.  They told him his dad won't 
rest peacefully until he burns someone else."

Dixie gasped in shock, but quickly hid it. Numbly, 
she felt the next words tumble out. "When, wait..it's 
Jeremy ...C-- Conners, isn't it?"

"Uh huh.." she nodded, fiddling with the rings on 
Dixie's elegant hands.

"When will Jeremy Conners, .....try it again?"  

"When you can't see the moon anymore."

::Ohmyg*d..:: Dixie quailed mentally. ::That's tonight!::

-----------------------------------------------------


Mike Stoker and Victoria the psychologist were 
having dinner at the station with the rest of
the gang. Cap had insisted she stay to shed
some light on the kids in the Home.

"Now, Captain. You know I can't discuss details
of my case minors with you.."

Cap inclined his head. "I'm not asking for their
phone numbers, just a little insight or two. Look,
it's costing the city thousands of dollars, if not
millions, each time a derelict goes up in smoke.
Now that translates into budget cuts, and eventually,
those hit the fire department, and that effect,
gets US where it hurts the most. Right in the 
pocket book.."

"Here, here.." said all the gang with derision.

Victoria sent down her fork and knife with a
clatter and she looked up from her plate of
roast chicken. "Oh, isn't that so noble of you."
she said with heat. "Money first, eh? Well, your
tactics stink. I'm not the bad guy here."

"No one's saying you are, Vic.." Mike Stoker 
insisted, rubbing an itch around his wrapped eyes.
He had been silent through the whole debate but
now he found he had to speak up for his crewmates.

"Oh, Mike, not you too." she said, surprised.

"Not me what? I'm looking out for everybody here.
My crewmates, my team kids and you..believe it or not.."

"Well you have a strange way of showing it. " Victoria
sighed. "...You're abandoning me.."

The rest of the firemen around the table hushed and
fell silent. By now, no one was eating.

Victoria felt the weight of the quiet so she pegged
Hank with a hurt stare. "Is this how you work your 
investigations, Captain Stanley? By first stuffing the 
witness you want with food and firehouse hospitality?"

Confused, Cap was mute.

Victoria went on. "I get it.. Then you all start hounding 
in slyly, hunting for protected information..."

Cap snapped out of his shock.
"That's preposterous, Miss Vickie. And you know it.
My men and--"

"Spare me the high and mighty ethics speech. I've
heard it hundreds of times before from other firehouse
captains."

Cap's mouth shut.

"Yes,..I've dealt with other pyro cases where a child
has visited a favorite fire house in a sudden rush of
guilt or daring. So I do know what you and your 
men are going through. And I do understand, Mike, 
the stress you must be feeling not knowing who
for sure, was responsible for your accident."

"Vic.."

Victoria rose in her chair and all the other men rose
too, in reflex. "If you'll excuse me, gentlemen. 
I think we'd better conduct this fire investigation 
separately, Captain. I know we'll work better that 
way in the long run. And I promise you. I won't 
withhold any information that may prove a danger 
to either this crew, or anyone else. Good night.  
Mike, this was a truly memorable meal.."

None of the gang, including Roy and Johnny, knew
how to take that remark.

Victoria left quickly for the garage bay and the rear door
leading out to the back parking lot. 

"I'm sorry, Cap. I don't know what's gotten into her. Let
me at least try to talk some sense-- " he broke off
hearing Vic struggle with the complicated deadbolt on
the back door. "I'll be right back.." Mike Stoker got up 
and rushed out after her, using the willing Boot on a 
lead as a guide dog.

"H*ll hath no fury like a woman surrounded." Kelly 
improvised.

That earned him a glare from both Johnny and Roy.



No one felt like eating until Victoria was back at ease.

Mike's roast chicken and dumplings grew cold, while
they waited for sounds of return from the back
parking lot.

---------------------------------------------------------

Boot found Victoria out in front by the flagpole.
He barked, letting Mike know the woman was near.

"Victoria, I'm sorry if you got a weird impression from 
us. It wasn't on purpose. The guys are still upset
about me being blinded even though we all know
I'm not going to stay this way. Just the fact that it 
happened irks them.
And with firemen, that means turning over every 
stone until a solution can be found to prevent another 
accident like mine from ever happening again. Can 
you forgive me? And us?" he asked. 

Victoria's face crinkled into a half smile when Mike 
held out two arms out in front of him like a child
looking for reassurance. He was pointed in 
completely the wrong direction.

She spared him embarrassment by sidling into his arms
and returning his friendly embrace. "Oh, all right. I 
just get so frustrated sometimes.." she sighed setting
her chin onto his shoulder.

"So do I. Frequently."

The wind picked up just then, as the sun settled
below the horizon, and the flags on their chains 
cracked suddenly, like a pistol shot. It startled
Victoria who ducked out of the hug in reflex.

Even Boot scrambled away, pulling on 
the lead, nearly tipping Mike over in his haste to
locate what had startled him.

Mike chuckled. "Hey, Boot. Settle down. It's just 
the flagpole, not an explosion. Come here, you.."

Victoria and Mike both crouched while they petted
Boot briskly to end his fright. Then Stoker stood, 
drawing Vic upwards. "Here. This is my job, too, to man
the flagpole. Help me untie this chain from around
the hooks here and we'll take them down for the night. 
Then we can head back in. I'll reheat dinner in the 
oven." he grinned.

"You're so cute.." Vic said. "I can see why dad
chose your field to run his concession stand in."

"What? You didn't chose my field because the kids
I work with just happen to be the most troubled
kids in the city?"

"Well,.. that too." she considered. "What's your reason
for coaching them?"

"I like to keep all problems where I can see them. That
way, I can figure out how to solve or help them eventually."

"Sound principle.. I think I like it.." Victoria declared as 
they fought with the large flags, folding them up in the
rising breeze that was rushing in on the heels of the fast
approaching dusk. "I, too, like to keep things well managed."

Mike grinned and took the folded bundles of silk from her
arms. Then he put two fingers in between his lips.
"*whistle* Come here, Boot. Come on." 

The dog stopped his leg lifting "outing" around the 
red fire hydrant by the boulevard and returned, trailing his lead,
to nuzzle Mike's hand. He then sat and dutifully accepted 
the flags Stoker draped over his back for the short trip he 
knew was necessary to carry them indoors.
 
Victoria laughed. "What a good helper!" She said, petting
him enthusiastically. Boot's tail thumped the flagpole with
loud metallic pings in happiness as she scrubbed him behind
the ears. "Boot's a real sweetheart. Had him long?"

"Nah, Boot's a stray. He was here for a few days two years
ago, checking us out. Then.....Marco ...said he came back 
the night I was hurt, looking for me." Stoker said with some 
emotion.

Victoria took his hand. "Maybe he just likes to keep those
down on their luck...... within sight.."  

"Maybe. Come on." Mike said releasing her hand. " I'm hungry.."  

Woof!

"And so's Boot." Stoker laughed. "Let's go inside. It's getting
cold out here. The sooner I have some hot food in me, the
better I'll feel."

"Maybe by then, Dad'll have found Jeremy.."

"Why's Old Ben getting involved? He should be resting."
Stoker insisted.

"Dad thinks if he spends more time with the kids off duty,
that he'll win their trust. He thinks afterwards, that
maybe they'll stop stealing his popsicles."

"It'll never happen. Not in a million years. Kids are kids."

"I know that. And you know that. But Dad's like me, Mike.
He's gotta try.."

"Let's hope between all of us, that the trying will be worth
something."

"I'm sure it will be. Dad's almost a good a detective as
he was a fireman in his day."

Stoker smiled, and let Boot show them the way 
through the side yard.

--------------------------------------------------------

Photo:  John and Roy tussling over dinner in a pique.

Photo: A close up of a cute blond little girl.

Photo : Mike Stoker, manning the flagpole.

****************************************
From :"patti keiper" <pattik1@hotmail.com>  
Subject : [EmergencyTheaterLive] One Dark Night....   
Date :Fri, 21 Feb 2003 06:13:32 +0000  
 
  **Tandom post by Cassidy Meyers and Patti Keiper
<killashandrarey@hotmail.com> 
<pattik1@hotmail.com> via Email Tennis.**

   Maximillion and Jeremy Conners ran
to the gap in the fence surrounding the old
firehouse on 223rd street. In his hand, the 
red headed boy held two Coke bottles full of 
kerosene stuffed with dull cloth wicks.

"Are you sure you wanna go through wid
this?" Max said. "I don't care what those gang
sentries say. You don't have to do this.. It's
craziness, man! What have you got to prove?"

Jeremy was bigger than his best friend and he
took full advantage of it. He grabbed the dark
boy's collar and yanked him close. "My dad's
soul for one thing. My honor for another."
he whimpered. Max was shocked to see his 
usually quiet buddy suddenly losing it like a baby. 
"I  want to belong  somewhere, Max.. " he 
sobbed."So bad I can taste it.. 
I had it once. The perfect family.. you know?"
he choked. "Then one night, my dad...fell off the pole."
His face twisted in anguish and Max could see
rivulets of water streaming down Jeremy's
freckled face. 

"What? I don't understand."

"It happened right here, Max. Right here.. 
In this old worn out firehouse!! The earthquake 
made him slip and the fire after finished him..!"  
Jeremy shoved Maximillion away and scrambled 
through the rend he had made years ago in 
the fence line. "Dad!  Dad!!" he screamed in
grief and despair.. "I'm coming..!! Just like
I promised. On your seventh anniversary..y..y...yy."

"Jer, no! Wait!" Max leaped to tackle the red haired
boy, but missed, landing in a pile of dust. He coughed,
frightened, as he watched Jeremy's striped shirt 
disappear into the bowels of the derelict station.

Maximillion froze when a rumble of motorcycles 
at the end of the deserted block drew his eyes away 
from the nightmarish scene he couldn't believe was
happening.  

It was the Skinhead Gang, officiating Jeremy 
Conners rite of passage. 

Max wailed.."Jer! Come on!.. We can still 
get out of here before they find us!! Jer!" 



But Jeremy Conners was long gone. 

The boy ran through the familiar ruins with the 
ease of long practice to the brass pole still in place 
among the dusty bricks.  He leaned up against it, 
wiping his tears away, and he called. "Benjamin..
Are you here? It's seven o'clock. " he spoke to the 
dark room and the stillness amid the rubble. "I'm so 
glad you called me tonight. Now I have someone 
to play with.." he shouted, smiling through his tears. 
Conners reached down and found the old gas lantern 
he had recovered from his dad's collapsed office 
and he lit it with a match. "I'm over here. By the 
sliding pole.."

A sound of stumbling echoed around the gutted
foundation of the old fire garage and all at once,
Old Ben was there, leaning on a half buried 
stone wall for support. "Jeremy Conners..? Is 
that you, my boy? Heh. I brought a whole box 
of popsicles we can share together. Won't 
they go down good?"

"They sure will Ben.." Jeremy said, a slight grin showing 
on his face. "I got something for the both of us.."  
He held up the two Coke bottles full of lighter
fluid. One in both hands. ::Dad, I'm coming...g..g..::
his mind whimpered.

"Sodas, eh? How nice of you to think of them. 
Just let me catch my breath first. Not easy moving 
around in here. Let me .....rest up a bit.. Then we 
can have those drinks.." he gasped, then 
Old Ben sat down on the rickety stairway littered 
with heavy timber and dead vegetation.

Jeremy was going to shift his bottles to his throwing hand 
when the other one lifted the lantern up so the old 
man could see to sit.
A sudden, unfamiliar pang gripped him and soon after,
the memory of his dad's death retreated and floated
away..

"Ah, that's better, such a thoughtful young man.
Now.. come sit beside me and we'll talk." Old
Ben said, brushing off dust and brush from
the step next to him. "Especially, about him.."

Jeremy's vacant expression...... changed.
To one of profound sadness and grief.  The 
bottles in his hand fell out of his grasp, rolling 
into a hole in the floor and out of sight. All 
thoughts of suicide in Jeremy evaporated and 
he seemed to lose years in age. "B-Ben, Is it 
true you knew m-my dad? Victoria said that 
you knew him."

"Eh? Come closer, Jeremy, so I can see you
better. Come sit with me. Don't be afraid.
I know it mustn't be easy for you to come 
here to the place where your dad met his 
end."

Just like that, Jeremy's strength crumbled and 
set down the heavy lantern, wilting in grief.  
"Oh, Ben...I miss him so much.." he sobbed.

The old man blinked and took the boy's head into
his lap and stroked his hair lovingly. "I know
you do, my boy. So do I. He was the best
captain an old engineer like me, could ever
have..."

-- -- -- -- -- -- 

Jeremy forgot time as he lost himself in the old
pain again. Dimly, he was aware of Ben relating
story after story about his father, each one more
exciting and more captivating than the last, and 
he was aware of the gentle caring voice of the 
old man sounding very much like the way his 
dad's had, until full darkness had fallen.

A brass bell began to strike richly in the stillness,
jolting Jeremy out of his foggy half sleep. "Ben?"

"It's all right, my boy.. Sort..of  a surprise.
I fixed up the old call bell again and rigged
it to sound off the hour. It's ok. Rigged it to
the city's board, too, just fer kicks... hehe hehe."

Jeremy froze when the bell stopped at eight.
"Oh my g*d.." he whispered. "They're coming.."

"Who's coming, my boy..? I don't understand."
said kind Old Ben.

"Them..! They've come to see if I have it done."
Jeremy whispered in fear.

"Have what done?"



"This!...Here!  Now!" said an angry voice. Older and 
very mad. Ben and Jeremy turned and saw him at
the head of the collapsed stairs. 

It was the Gang leader. 
"Well, well well, looks like our little stooge is 
gonna chicken out. Too bad. I kinda liked you, Red.. 
But now there's a price to pay for your miserable
failure, isn't there, little boy..?" he sneered. 

And he held up the two very familiar looking bottles.

"Where did you find those?" Conners gasped.

"Below.." he shrugged diffidently. "I figured, why 
waste a good thing?" he said evilly.

Jeremy ripped out of Old Ben's grasp and stood
on shaky feet, not caring that his shoes filled 
with mud.

"Don't you hurt him. Please.. I've changed my mind.
He's not the one, please!"

"He'll do.." said the leader. And he leaped back
up through the hole in the roof he had come
through. And the twisted teen began to sing..

  "One dark night, when we were all in bed...
Missus O'Leary.. lit a lantern in the shed..
The cow kicked it over... She winked her eye and said...
They'll be a hot time, in the old town............. "

And then he whispered a final word..   "*Tonight....*"

"no... NO ! Don't!!" Jeremy cried and in his terror,
knocked over the forgotten lantern at his feet.

Its tumble smashed against the fallen bricks of the 
derelict firehouse landing and into the rich mat of 
dried sage and grass nestled there.  

Fountains of flame sprouted up through the
vegetation and a rising blaze caught and grew
with frightening speed around Jeremy and Old Ben.


"Awww, looky that? Little Jeremy's a red cow..
No, make that a yellow one.." chuckled the
homicidal gang leader. 

"What's happening?" cried the old man.

"We're being trapped! We've got to get out of here! 
Come on! I'll show you the best way out!" Jeremy 
said, pushing Ben before him towards the outside 
door he knew was in his dad's office.

Just like that, an explosion of fuel and fire dropped
directly in their path from a hole in the ceiling. One
of Jeremy's firebombs had been thrown, narrowly
missing them.

A manic face peeked through it and the gang leader
rolled his eyes with the sick pall of fascinated insanity.
"Going somewhere? I do believe we have a false
alarm...Please.. stay ..and warm yourselves by the 
fire.." 

"Torch!!.. Don't do this!! It isn't right.." Jeremy
gasped.

"You should have thought of that before you
joined my little gang of horrors, Red."

Jeremy and Ben stumbled, but somehow, they
made it around the new patch of twisting fire.

Echoey laughter swelled over the sound of the 
growing flames building higher in the ruin.

Coughing, choking, the old man and boy were
slowly driven back by the intense heat of 
the fire eating the dry old bones of the station.

They fell back against something smooth, and
cool.. "The pole! Ben, we've got to climb up."

"I can't.. I'm too....*cough*  ...weak.."

"Come on, you've got to try..!"

"Wait.. Jeremy,.. the bell.." Ben exclaimed, his
cataract cloudy eyes getting wider. 

"What? You're not making any sense, Ben, 
just climb.. Pleas-se..." the boy sobbed 
pulling on Old Ben's arm where he lay 
against the fire pole.

"No, listen to me, boy. I know what I'm talking
about..*choke* Get on my shoulders.."

"What?!"

"Just do it. I'm going to lift you up and you
are going to ring the bell.. Just pull the string.
L.A. will hear us. Remember, I repaired the 
network.."

Jeremy cried out as the old man shoved him
up the pole. Inch by inch, the boy's fingers
got closer to the satin rope. Then ...they...
reached and Jeremy found that he had just
enough strength to pull it down . 

SMASH!! 

A ball of fire landed against the wall in the
pole space above his head, incinerating the
bell's rope instantly. 

"No, you don't! I like to see my burns through
to completion if you don't mind." challenged
Torch.

Screaming, Jeremy patted out the flames in
both his and Ben's hair as they both tumbled
back down to the stoney floor. Scrambling,
Jeremy knelt by his friend's ear. "It's ok, it's ok,
Ben, I put it out.. Get up.. Get up!.. I thought of
something else.. You've got to make it to my 
dad's office. Get to the red door..It leads into 
the yard..  *gasp*  Go, Ben, they'll find you...!"   

"A fireman never leaves his v----" But Old Ben 
started coughing violently in the heavy smoke.

"Just go!  Back the way we came.
I'll try to draw him off!" Jeremy scrambled 
away from Ben and then back up the scalding brass
pole. Half way up, he swung over to the flaming,
disintegrating stairwell and up into the bunkloft at 
the top without a second glance back.

When Ben got his wind back, he opened
his eyes. He found that Jeremy was no 
longer at his side. "Jeremy!" he called out.
"Jeremy!" 


Seconds later, the flames crawled too close 
for him to continue to look for the boy and 
Old Ben was forced to drag himself into
the office despite what he wished. 

Once, there, to his horror, he found that 
Jeremy's plan for quick escape, would 
never hold any water.  

Torch had bolted the outer door with chains
and padlocks.....from the inside. 


Hot, breathless and scorched, the exhausted 
ex-firefighter began to pound frantically on the 
door but Old Ben soon blacked out onto the 
floor and his body rolled limply against the metal 
of the barricaded door.  

--------------------------------------------

At L.A. headquarters, Sam Lanier saw a light
go on that he hadn't seen in seven years.
::What th? It's old station nine.:: He thought.
::That's an in-house emergency signal coming
from the mainpole's bell box..:

His mind flashed back to the night of the earthquake
when a fire captain by the name of Conners had
rung the very same bell ....for the last time.

By their own volition, his fingers toggled the 
tone call of the station nearest that area.

---------------------------------------------------
 
##Station 51. Truck 127, Batallion 14. Automated Fire Call. 
2049 East 223rd Street. Cross street, Wilmington Ave.
2049 East 223rd Street. Cross street, Wilmington Ave.
Time out :  18:26.##     (Get where this is? :) )

"That's d*mned peculiar.." Cap exclaimed, recognizing
the location. "Say Lopez, isn't that the firehouse that
came down in the quake of--"

"Sure is, Cap.."

"Let's go.."

Victoria rose in her seat. "Oh, no. Not there."

"What's wrong, Vic? This is probably just a milk
run. Sometimes the wires beneath the old 
buildings in that neighborhood, get cross 
connected and the random power surges do
some pretty strange things." Stoker told her.

"No, no no. You don't understand. That's where
Jeremy Conners' father died. Tonight is the seventh
anniversary of his death.."

Mike Stoker whirled towards Victoria as the guys
rolled out top speed in the engine and squad.

------------------------------------------------


Jeremy remembered leaving behind the fire
and the heat. He only had focus enough, to find
Torch.

Rats ran frantically across the floor of the second story
bunkhouse and in many places, the floor was rotting 
and unsafe. But Jeremy knew where the solid
timbers were and he leaped across to them nimbly.

He didn't speak, knowing that any noise from him
could be lethal. Torch's personality always digressed 
far beyond sanity while he was attending a burn.

Soon, Jeremy reached the place he wanted. Bunk
Ten, his father's. The mattress was gone, but the
coils were still half woven into the bedframe.
The boy quietly paced three floor boards at its foot,
avoiding the fourth and leaped the rest of the way
to the bed. 

Determined, Jeremy got up on the rusty bed springs 
and started jumping up and down, cheering at the 
top of his lungs.

Soon, Torch's voice filtered through the dark.
"What are you doing jumping for joy, kid? 
Don't you know that I'm going to finish y--"

"Yayyy! He's dead and I did it.." said Jeremy,
fiercely, bouncing closer until he was at the foot
of the bed nearest Torch.  The whole time,
Jeremy never ceased jumping.

"What?" Torch blinked, shifting a lit fire 
bottle into his other hand.

Jeremy felt his breath rattle thinly in his
chest as he made his dry lips move.
"That old man. I burned him. Burned him
good..." he hissed, dropping to his hands
and knees, to laugh openly.

That halted Torch, cold. His face fell from
murderous intent to one of confusion...
Then Torch's toothless face split into a wide
grin that came slowly and he said. 
"Well, all right. Didn't know you had it in 
you, Red." and he blew out the fire bomb
in his grip.

Jeremy watched the rebel walk closer across
the squeaking fungus ridden boards,
nearer and nearer to bed number ten.

"Well, this changes everything, Red. Welcome
to the gang. You passed my test. Put it there, man..." 
Torch said, taking another step forward towards 
Jeremy on the bedsprings. 

The boy looked up and saw a leather glove approaching,
offering a hand shake to him just inches away from
his face.


SNAP!!


The fourth floor board snapped and gave
way, dropping Torch into the heart
of the blazing inferno roaring through the
main garage below. The flames' fury 
cut off any possible sound he could have
made while falling, instantly.

    Jeremy's face suddenly twisted and 
his eyes watered with hot tears, completely 
blinding him. He felt a moan form in his throat, 
but the boy who was Jeremy Conners no longer 
cared about communicating. Somewhere deep 
inside he was deathly afraid that he no longer had 
the will to try and make it back down to Old 
Ben in the Cap's office. 

Heart and mind in pain, Jeremy collapsed on 
the wired bedframe, begging his memory to 
offer up the familiar image of his father,
Captain Conners, before it was too late. 

"Dad, " he sighed.. "..get me out of here....." 
Jeremy shivered and then his head began to 
sink lower and lower from the dwindling supply 
of breathable air.

The angry fire that had killed Torch, the gang leader,
rose through the hole in the floor, rearing up over 
the bed frame where Jeremy Conners had 
suddenly fallen very still.

-----------------------------------------------

"Marco, Charlie, Roy, John, string two inch and a halfs
and cover the west side. And be careful. Looks like
another gang related torch job. There's a Harley
in front." Cap shouted.

Then he lifted his HT.##L.A. we have a fully involved
brick and wood two story structure. Advise the power
company to kill the electricity to our one block
area.##

"Really?" Gage said as he hurried by.

Cap grinned. "Yeah, saw a spark on the power pole
over there. Looks like some half wit's jury rigged
a line into the old firehouse itself. Gage spread
the word. I want everyone in full SCBA."

"Right, Cap."

Hank Stanley saw the mess the blaze had already
made of the old gallant fire station. Already the
main tower was crumbling to pieces in a rain of
ash and sparks. Again his HT met his mouth,
##Truck 127, cover the south side. Protect 
that direct exposure. Battalion Fourteen. Cover the
cross street drive and set up your command post 
there.##

Hank heard the hail of 10-4's reply back to his orders.

Then he saw a very quiet Chet standing in front of
the pumper panel off Old Red. "Well, pal. Here's your
chance to shine.. Think you remember everything?"

Chet was watching the fire with a fascinated horror.
"I sure do. Mike didn't let me sleep last night at all
'cause he was quizzing me so hard. "

"All right, then. Have at it. Look sharp for 
problem spots. Oh, and for look for the arsonist,
too. They usually panic and bail out in the 
worst possible place for it."

Chet nodded numbly. Then he turned back to
his chemical dials and water guages. "Man, this
is humbling.. " he said to himself. "I literally have
the lives of the hose team crew in my hands.."

"Yeah, well don't let that get to your head, Chet.."
Roy grinned, jogging by with the K-12. The blond haired
fireman already had on his air bottle.

"Believe me, I'll have a healthier respect for Stoker's
position from here on out."

Roy chuckled. Then he shouted.
"Cap!"

"Yeah..."

"Johnny and I are going in through that red door 
right there. Looks like the fire hasn't broken through
to that room yet.."

Cap eyeballed the door Roy was pointing to.

"Sounds like a plan.. Good spot to start
gutting the building. Have at it." he nodded.

Roy waved at Johnny to follow him up with Marco
on a covering hose and he put on his mask.

"This looks good.." he mumbled as he set the blade
into the door about waist high. He cut around the
horizontal bar, creating a football sized hole 
in under a minute.
Then he reached inside and tried to lift the door's 
latch from the interior. It didn't budge.

Grunting, he took off his glove and tried again, 
feeling around for the reason why
his cutting didn't work. He shifted around to use his
other hand when he was shocked to find a smear of
red on his skin.. ::That's blood..::  He pulled off
his mask and peered through the window.
"Hey, is anybody in there?!" He looked down
and saw Old Ben lying on the ground. He
had bloodied his hands trying to claw his way to
air. "Marco, Johnny! On the double. We've a
victim in here!!"

Marco dropped the hose and came pelting
with the crowbar..

--------------------------------------------
Victoria took full advantage of Mike's status
as a firefighter to get under the fire lines
nearest the scene. She pulled up her green 
Matador on a safe part of the street and 
quickly led Stoker to his captain's side.

Barking, Boot also jumped out of the car's
open window and ran with them.

Mike Stoker immediately told Victoria to 
leave Boot with Hank and to wait by the 
car for news of Jeremy.

"But.."

"It's too dangerous. You don't know how to 
keep safe this close to a fire."

"Boot can show me h--"

"No he can't. He'll be working, watching
the guys in case they run into trouble. He's
also on alert for any potential victims
shouting from the windows. "

"But Jeremy's still in there!" she wailed.

"Hey, now. We don't know that for a 
fact." Mike said firmly.

Just then, Boot bounded across the burning
boards and hissing water puddles left over 
from Truck 127's water shield, making a 
beeline for Roy's hacked open door.

"They've found someone!!" Victoria shouted.

Mike had the good sense to keep his grip
tight on her shoulders because soon after,
she fought him. "It's my father, Mike! Oh
my G*d!"

"Stay put, Vic. They'll be bringing him here."

Sure enough, Johnny and Roy ran with Old
Ben, arm-draped between them, towards 
the rescue squad. 

"They're coming!" Vic said.

Mike shouted. "Cap!!.. Roy and Johnny got a man
out of there.."

Cap left his place by the engine and grabbed the 
medical gear and 02 tank from the squad's hold.

Gage looked up as he carefully lowered Old Ben
to the ground. "Thanks, Cap. We can take it
from here."

"Keep me posted.." And Hank disappeared into
the darkness.

Vic tore away from Mike and hurried to Ben's
side. "How is he? Oh, please.." she sobbed, 
afraid to touch him.

"He's gonna be fine. Looks like all he needs is
some 02." Roy said.

Old Ben started to moan as the fresh air 
outside revived him. "Get...Jer--"

"What?" Johnny asked Ben. "Now just
lie still." he ordered. But Ben wouldn't.
He still seemed to be struggling to talk.
Gage bent close to make out Ben's words. 
"Just keeping breathing in this oxygen..It'll
help ya focus. Now.. what is it that's so
important to tell us?"

Ben fought Gage's hands, shoving the mask 
aside with bloody fingers. "Get him out.. 
Up....pole.." he gasped.

"Ok, ok, ok.. Just lie back down and
take it easy... Cap!!" Johnny hollered.
"We've got another victim in there.. 
This man says he's on the second floor."

"I'm on it.." And Hank waved two from Truck
127's crew to gear up for an exploratory.

Just then the whole front of the firehouse
came tumbling down towards the row of
water spraying firetrucks and Victoria.

A loose stone struck her and she went down.

"Victoria??" Roy shouted. Johnny and Roy
rushed over to check her out as fast as
they could. 

Chet could only watch hopelessly.

"What happened?" Mike demanded.

"Wall collapse. Victoria took a brick
to the side of her head." Roy said.

"She ok?"

"We don't know yet.."

Then there was no more time for words.
Both medics lost themselves in the care 
of their victims and soon, Mike was 
tuned out altogether.

"Oh, Jeremy..." Mike fretted. Then, on a 
thought, he whistled.

Boot came running, instantly.

Pulling a lead from his pants pocket, Mike
attached it to his collar and he turned his 
bandaged eyes towards the burning building.
"Boot...." he said, taking a tight grip on the 
leash.. "Seek. Find him. He's in the fire.."

Boot dashed forward, pulling Mike effortlessly
with him.

Stoker counted on the dust and smoke from
the fire and the cover of night to conceal his 
entry into the building fire.

His gamble worked. No one saw him go inside.

"Boot!" he coughed. "Find him.. Upstairs.."

Loud crackles from the burning timbers and 
their self destruction's rumble guided Mike 
on where not to step. He relied on the feel of 
Boot's leash on his arm to point out
the safest way. 

Mike slowly became aware of an intense
almost surrealistic bright orange glow. 
::The fire. I can see it!:: Stoker began to claw 
off his eye wraps as Boot led him deeper into 
the open garage and to the stairwell. He whined 
to his left suddenly and immediately turned away.

Mike covered his nose. He knew the smell of
a charred body when he encountered one.
"oh, please, no.." he sighed.

But Boot was still pulling him strongly onwards.
::Maybe that corpse back there, was the arsonist.::

Stoker's spirits raised. "I am in so much trouble.."
he mumbled.

The last of the bandages fell away and the
bright stabbing orange light pierced deep into
his retinas, making his barely healed eyes, water.
"This light..My G*d.  It's bright enough for me 
to see by!"

Soon, he was wiping away the tears as perfectly
clear, fire illuminated vision returned."Boot, double
time.." he ordered.

His shoe hit the first stair.

By some miracle, the front wall's collapse
hadn't crushed the stairwell and its bulk had
snuffed out a great deal of the fire in
that area. Mike followed Boot into the 
blackness at the top, where Stoker froze
in his tracks. Bright sparklets of light
lanced into his field of vision. ::Deprivation.
I still don't have my night vision back. I'm gonna
have to go back or risk getting trapped up here.::

But Boot's leash went tell-taley slack and 
Mike heard Boot begin to bark frantically
from just ahead of him.

Stoker reached out and his hand struck 
the hard metal coils of a gutted bunk .. 
and..a leg..

"Jeremy??!"

A small boy's moan greeted him.

Mike wasted no time and he gathered up the
boy into his arms and then slid him head first
over a shoulder. Then Mike said, "Boot. Out. Go
outside. Go..go.. go.."

Stoker's fear lessened when the bright glow
of the main fire granted him sight once more.

Near the outer door, Mike was met by an angry
team of county firefighters. "Hey.. just what
the h*ll do you think you're doing??" one of them
shouted through his airmask.

"Take him.. Sorry. I'm with 51's. I heard 
him calling for help." he lied. "I'm Mike Stoker."

"Yeah, I know who you are.." said the bigger 
one. "Is he breathing?"

"Yeah.."

Mike let the firemen take Jeremy and used the same
route he had taken before with Boot to return to 
the fireline.  As he walked away from the fire,
Mike was amazed to find that his watery
vision didn't entirely disappear. In fact, as the 
chill air cooled him, it got better. 

The first clear sight he saw, was Chet, 
sweating over the chem panel on the engine.
And then he saw the night stars.

Smiling, Stoker reached down and petted 
Boot's sooty back in sheer joy. "Good dog.. 
good dog.... What a way to work.. Good 
boy.."

As Mike suspected, no one else knew what he had
done. The two men from 127 who had dropped
off Jeremy near the squad, had been, luckily, 
mutually decided to hustle back to their fire detail 
instead of reporting Stoker to anyone.
 
Mike released Boot from his lead and whispered.
"Go to Cap, boy.. Move it.."

He watched the valiant dog rejoin Hank at full tilt.

Then he knelt down quietly by Johnny, who was
working on Victoria, who was just coming to.
"Relax, Vic." Mike soothed. "Your bump doesn't 
...look... too bad."

That made Gage glance up from the BP he
was taking on her. Johnny did a double take
when he saw that Mike was bandage-less.. 
and seeing..

"Mike!" he said happily. "You can see.."
Then Gage's face flickered between watchfulness
over Vic's changing status and curiosity over
Mike's. "Hang- hang on there. I'll be right with
you."

"No rush.. I feel fine."

"You sure?"

"Yeah.."

"No flashes or..spots ..or anything like that?"

"Nope..None." 

"Ok.  Good... All right....." Gage forced himself
to stop staring at the relieved tears flowing 
unabashed down Mike's face. "Listen, Mike.. uh, 
I'm dying of curiosity to see how the boy's doing. 
Could you go over there and just ..  you know
check on him for me? It's bugging me 'cause Roy
hasn't said much about him yet."

Stoker patted Johnny on the shoulder, "Gladly." 

As Mike crossed the short distance
to where Ben and Roy and Jeremy were, 
he dried his cheeks on a sleeve. 

Then he couldn't resist.
"Nice guage work, Chet.... Looks .....like your psi
pressure's perfect..."

Mike ambled nonchalantly on past him. Kelly 
just about did arabian handsprings at the sight 
of Mike walking, free of Boot, eagle eyeing 
everything around him.

"WahhhHHhooooo Stoker.. All rightt!!!!  Man, this
is great.. Your eyes are-- Wait a minute, why
am I cheering? I'm gonna get demoted now.."

"You can live with it.."

"Just as long as you can, pal.." Kelly fired back.
"I'm beginning to fall in love with this job, Stoker.
I may test out with ya in the fall. May the best
man win.... WahhhhHHHhhoooo." he howled
again.

This time half a dozen firefighters rubber necked 
in their direction and Mike only shrugged, making
crazy signs with a finger circling his ear and then
a hooking thumb at Kelly, when Chet wasn't looking.

Mercifully, Chet never caught on to why the
other men were laughing.


Mike Stoker entered the place where the triage 
lights had been set up above Roy and his victims.

He approached his coworker, keen on surprising
him with his Lazarus back from the blind 
routine when something about DeSoto's body 
english stopped him.

He set a hand on Roy's shoulder. "Roy, how's
Jeremy doing?"

Roy looked up and reacted pretty much as
Johnny had about his eyes. But Stoker
never saw it.

His eyes were locked on Jeremy's face.

The boy was pink, breathing well under an 02 mask,
and his skin was mercifully whole. 

But two hideous sockets existed where
the boy's eyes had once been. They 
had completely boiled away from the heat
of the burning fire.

DeSoto heard Stoker's gasp of horror.
"Mike, he's not in any pain. I've given him a 
pain med. But, I'm afraid he'll never s--"
and DeSoto's voice broke. " see.. again.."
He studied his hands and the spent MS syringe
resting there without being aware of it.

"Not ever?" 

Roy slowly shook his head without meeting
his eyes.

Stoker's face filled with salty wetness and
he bent low over his favorite project kid's
drugged form, and cried until the ambulance
came.

Old Ben, seated on the squad's bumper in
a cannula and blanket, set a bandaged
hand on Mike's shoulder in wordless 
understanding.

-------------------------------------------------------
It was another perfect sunny summer day at
the McGregor ballpark and Mike Stoker and 
Victoria and Susan Jordan and Maxilliam 
and Old Ben were at their usual places around 
the diamond. 

Jeremy Conners was sitting on Mike Stoker's 
lap getting a verbal play by play of the game,
directly from his favorite coach.

"Hey Coach.." Jeremy said, sucking on his
popsicle and scratching an itch under his eye
wraps.

"Yeah, Champ?"

"Are you sure the guys aren't missing Boot
at all? I mean he makes a swell guide dog and
stuff, but Boot's a fireman just like d--"
his voice trailed away.


"Yeah, he is a pretty good one. " Mike studied 
Jeremy's hanging head. "It's ok. It's all right to 
be sad about your father and what happened to 
that old firehouse. But that's the funny thing 
about living. Life always changes. And there's 
nothing in the world we can do about it... 
..except..."

Jeremy's face cracked a smile and he lifted a hand
full of slender sticks.  "...except throw popsicles
sticks at it.. Yyeeahhhhhhhh!" and the red haired
boy crowed at the top of his lungs, hurtling 
his wooden missiles down on the players below. 

He started to laugh when Tiny and Cruz, 
standing near the bleachers, complained 
verbally about the rain of litter landing on 
them.

But, to themselves, the project kids made it 
a point not to grumble too much.

Mike and Victoria, on either side of the happy 
little boy, smiled broadly at Jeremy, muttering in
conspiracy about what they could throw next. 

And behind his back, the two adults timidly 
joined affectionate hands.

Not missing a beat, Victoria spoke up. 
"Don't fret about the guys missing Boot, Jer.
Because Boot's a free spirit. He wouldn't've stayed
at 51's for long anyway. He always gravitates to those
who need him the most Mike tells me. And you
certainly fit his bill young man.."

Jeremy giggled when she tickled his nose.

She went on with a small smile. 
"Nah, I think Boot the wanderer's finally 
found a home.."

"You know what, guys?" Jeremy asked,
angling his head up.

"What..?" Both Mike Stoker and Victoria asked
together.
 
"I think I'm finally home, too. "

                           FIN       :)

Season One, Episode Four-  Within Sight 
 
     :)    This episode is dedicated to all who work in foster 
           care children's programs. May your kids all find warm,
           kind and loving families, and a place they can finally call....
           home..
    :)                                                                               :)

@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@
 
 The Story Unfolds...

Season One, Episode Five..  

Integrity Game

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

From:  "Linda Taggatz" <doc51@att.net> 
Date:  Fri Feb 14, 2003  4:41 pm
Subject:  A possible start for Ep 5.  


Kel  was going on  vacation. Not just any vacation. 
For the first time in years he was going on a family 
vacation with both parents. He and his dad  were 
starting to resolve their differences. They both felt 
that going to Martha's Vineyard like they did when 
Kel was a kid would help.
 
Joe had volunteered to take them to the airport. 
They had reserved a rental car to use during their 
stay. Of course Kel wanted to explore Boston, he 
hadn't been there in a long time. His mom & dad 
agreed to that. They knew that this vacation was 
important to all of them. 
 
Unfortunately a huge snowstorm hit that area hard. 
The airport in Boston had been closed, no flights in or 
out.

-----------------------------------------------

Photos :  None.

*******************************
From : "patti keiper" <pattik1@hotmail.com>  
Subject :  No Sure Bet..   PG-13.  
Date : Wed, 05 Mar 2003 12:44:23 +0000  
   

Dr. Brackett sat in the hospital cafeteria patio 
across from his father, Brent, and his mother 
Anna Rose at a white whicker table fully
under the bright noon day California sun.

Both men were in a foul mood as they
chewed without tasting, the tuna sandwiches
on their lunch plates. They wore matching
scowls on their faces.

"Anna, you find something amusing about
all this? Our vacation plans are ruined and
here you are...making a spectacle of yourself."
Brent told her firmly.

Anne Rose broke out into spontaneous laughter
covering her mouth with the hand not holding
the plane tickets. "I'm sorry." she gasped.
"It's just you two are reacting in exactly the
same way right now. It's not the end of the
world. Just the end of our current gameplan.
We don't have to go to Martha's Vineyard
to spend time as a family. No. We can do that
right here at home where no snowstorm can
possibly interfere."

Kel looked up sitting straighter, as he
shoved the last bite of his sandwich into
his mouth. "Easier said than done. Those
tickets cost a fortune, mom. What do you
expect us to do about it now?"

"This.." her warm brown eyes beamed
from the frame of auburn hair around her 
face. And she promptly tore their three
unused flight vouchers in half firmly with 
a flourish.

Brent and Kel both stood up from their chairs 
in dismay. 

"Anna Rose, why in G*d's name did you do that?!"  

"Mom! What the h*ll?!!" 

They both cried in outburst at the same moment.

Both father and son eyed each other up when
they both realized that had struck exactly the
same pose of ire with hands spread indignant
over the table top, leaning in to Anna in anger.

That only made Mrs. Brackett laugh all the harder
to the point of wheezing soundlessly and her
light airy voice died away as she lost her ability
to breathe.

Kel and Brent frowned, and again, father and son
took like actions of grabbing up their glasses
of water to hand to Anna to drink to gain
a quicker recovery from her mirth.

Soon, Anna wiped away her amused streaming
tears and accepted one of the waters being offered 
to her. "Oh, that felt good." she chuckled, dabbing her
eyes on a napkin delicately while she sipped the ice
water. "Getting rid of those tickets meant getting rid 
of unpleasant distractions.  Now, think of it this way."
she said patting their rough hands. "We now have 
a squeaky clean slate to work with now in regards to 
our family vacation. And do sit down. People are 
beginning to stare, doctors..." she grinned.

Kel and Brent glanced around and did see a few
subtle glances their way. They buttoned their
dinner jackets over their ties self consciously.

The older Brackett cleared his throat.
"Don't make it a habit, pet." Brent said, regaining
his chair and he honestly started to half smile. 
"If you want to throw money away to make a 
point next time, I'll have a pond built in the back 
yard and I'll hand you the sack of coins myself." 

"Amen to that.." Kel said empathetically and
downed his water glass in a salute to the
suggestion. He then began to gather up the
two lunch trays that were empty.

Anna Rose's eyes twinkled. "Your father's such
a kidder, Kel. Don't listen to him."

"Have I ever?" Dr. Brackett quipped.

Brent nearly spit out the rest of his sandwich
he had started eating again as he pegged an
intense stare at his only son. "Yes. You have."
he said, covering his mouth with his napkin.
"When I called you last week about this family
vacation plan of ours... You actually listened
to what your mother and I had to say and
then you actually said, ...yes..to it. " he grinned.

"As if I could have refused. I'd have been disowned.."

"There is that.." Brent said.

Anna Rose slapped her husband on the arm
to behave himself.

"So, what do we do now that mom's made
sure that any ticket refunding's impossible?"
Kel asked.

Brent shrugged. "Don't know. Ask your mother."
he said, mopping up some mayonnaise with
the last crust remaining of his food.

Kel raised questioning eyebrows.

It was Anna Rose's turn to lean over the table
to catch their ears in confidence. "We find
a third party to make the decision for us."

"And who would that be?" Kel grumbled.
Personal privacy was still a big thing with
the younger Dr. Brackett.

----------------------------------------------


Dixie McCall backed up against the base
station glass door, clutching an armful 
of patient charts against her chest defensively.
"Ohh noo... Anna Rose. This isn't fair.." she hissed
in a whisper at Mrs. Brackett.  Subconsciously, Dix 
glanced inside the clear glass base station where 
Kel had dragged his father in to overhear an incoming 
rescue call he was handling. "I can't take on
an important decision like that. It's taken years
for me to get those two to even begin to listen 
to each other.."

"And it shows. " she said empathetically.
"Now who better to make the next call
than a close co-working friend. H*ll. You
and Kel dated once. We all trust you."

"That's dirty pool and you know it,
Mrs. Brackett." Dix said straight faced
but unoffended.

"Who else can we turn to? Mike Morton's
never even had lunch with us. And Joe,
..." she sighed. "Joe Early's too nice
to even try to get involved in the Brackett
father/son feud reclamation project."

"Nice sentiment there. I think I'll follow
Joe's angle, too." And Dixie tried to 
make her escape.

Anna Rose got in her way innocently
by taking the charts from the head ER 
nurse's grasp, "Here, let me file these for
you, dear. I know where they go.."

And Dixie was forced to stay while
Mrs. Brackett  slowly set the patient charts 
in their metal holder on Dix's desk, one by 
one, alphabetically. McCall plastered a forced 
polite smile on her face as Anna Rose rambled 
on.

"So, what's a great part of town?
Long Beach? Heard Crystal Pier's 
simply lovely this time of year."

"I wouldn't know. I never get out."
Dixie mumbled. She again tried
to ooze away from the desk. But
Anna Rose reached for another chart
slyly and she had to freeze in place
or drop the rest of her stack.

Anna Rose said, "Neither do we.
That's the problem." she said frankly. "Ok, 
this one goes under... S.. for Smith.."she 
said, myopically eyeing the chart's proper 
slot. "We're not asking you for stock investing
advice, just one teeny tiny vacationing spot
idea for us to go to. Just pick anywhere,
Dixie. Top of your head. Whatever you say 
won't be locked in stone by any measure, I 
assure you. We're just...getting a fresh start
here." she said, filing another metal chart into 
its housing.

Dixie sighed and fought like mad not
to tap her foot on the tiles in nervousness.
::Oh, boy. Fates, I demand you get me out 
of this one. If I choose anywhere that doesn't 
turn out for the Bracketts, I'll have to live with 
the consequences of my actions for the next 
ten years working with the two doctors
locked into yet another feud.:: she bemoaned 
mentally.

Right then, the red light on the call station
over her head began to flash.. Miss McCall's
face erupted in an eager glee of reprieve.
"Hold that thought, Anna Rose. I have to answer 
that. It's a second run coming in.." And she
shoved the charts right back at Mrs. Brackett
who barely caught them as Dix fled into
the base station's sound isolation room and
slammed the door.

Dixie's hand darted onto the talk button
on the second intercom, just barely beating
out Kel's subtly reaching one. "Unit calling in 
please repeat.." she stated quickly, taking over
the run from him hastily.

Kel said. "You didn't have to come in just to
answer that." he said, looking up from
the EKG strip he was looking at.

"I sure did.." Dixie gasped. She felt Brent 
Brackett come stand by her to hear how a 
registered nurse answered a rescue call.

Dixie's caller came into voice. "Rampart,
this is Engine 51. We're on scene at
the Santa Anita Racetrack. There's been a
multiple race horse pileup on the final turn of
a stakes race with injuries.  Squad 51's en route 
on the track right now with the grounds 
crew leading the way. Please stand by." 
came Captain Stanley's voice over the 
murmuring roar of a crowd of other people on 
the frequency. Their horrified dismay was very 
apparent in the background. To Dix, it sounded 
like a bad accident.

"Standing by, 51." Dixie said. "Kel, do you 
need Joe on yours?" she asked.

Dr. Brackett looked up from his chart.
"Hmm? No, this is just a simple case of syncope. 
It's a scorcher out there today. We're bound to get 
a few heat related injuries into the ER this afternoon."
Dr. Brackett said. "This cardiac strip's precautionary 
only." Then he leaned down and finished his call.
"Squad Ten. Start an IV Normal Saline and run
it in at the rate of 30-40 drops a minute. Continue
to monitor her vital signs and transport as soon 
as possible..  Now that she's awake, you can 
D/C the O2 at your discretion."

##10-4, Rampart. Squad Ten out. Our ETA is 
ten minutes.##

"10-4, Squad 10." Kel ended the transmission.

Brent Brackett motioned Kel over while Dixie 
began filling out the run sheet for 51. She moved 
the yellow medical status magnet for their station 
from base bound to on rescue call. 
"Looks like this might be a bad one, son.." Brent 
told Kel. "It's at the race track."

Kel sighed and his face twitched in sympathy. 
"Another jockey tangle up?"

Dixie looked up from her writing. "Yes, sounds 
like it. 51's still getting out to that part of the track."

"Stick around Dix, we may have more than we 
can handle here very quickly. And call Joe in here."

"Right." Dix said handing off the run chart to 
Dr. Brackett. "Excuse me, Brent." and she reached 
over and grabbed the paging phone over the 
recording monitor above the intercom. " Operator. 
Please page Dr. Early to the base station, stat......
Yes, thank you." and she hung up.

Silence stretched in the tiny room and Brent felt 
his palms beginning to sweat in anticipation even
as Dix and Kel calmly marked notes on their 
respective charts. Finally, Brent licked his lips. "Is it 
always this hard waiting around to hear back on 
a rescue in progress ?"

"Yes.." Dix and Kel said simultaneously.

"I'm glad I'm a psychiatrist. No rescue calls to speak
of.." he mumbled to himself.

Overhearing, Dix and Kel smiled at him.

================================


Squinting into the bright sun to the south, Cap could
just make out the dust trail of the squad as it followed
the grounds crew truck along the track's outer rail
to where the chaos was happening. He could see several 
horses sprawled awkwardly on the ground, some 
still moving.  But the one smaller human body hanging on 
the rail and the several more in the dirt, were alarmingly still.

He could see at least four other racehorses careening wildly
around the track without their riders with parade
outrider ponies and their unhurt, tossed jockeys,
hard up on recapturing them from their mindless dash 
away from the accident side of the track.

Hank hung the biophone receiver over his shoulder
and he slapped Chet Kelly on the arm of his overcoat.
"Chet, get a couple of hoses strung onto the apron here. 
Straight through the hydrant. Maybe we can do 
something for those poor horses out there.  Only one 
seems to have broken a leg. The others that are down 
could still be alive and only lightly heat stroked. But don't 
go out there until those loose racers are caught, all right? 
It's too risky for us to have our hoses running where 
the others, in their panic, might trip over them."

"Right, Cap." And Kelly jogged down through
the tunnel to the utility driveway where Stoker
was still idling the big engine to tell him Cap's
orders.

Hank turned to Marco at his side. "Marco. Roy
and John may need help communicating with their
victims out there. If any of those jockeys are
even half out, their english speaking abilities will go
out the window if you know what I mean."

"Understood, Cap. I'm on it." And Marco went
with another crew pickup truck, riding on the
back. They maneuvered slowly down track 
to avoid upsetting the free runners, moving 
along the outer rail to the scene of mayhem.

By the time Chet and Stoker had returned with 
the strung hoses and had charged them, the 
uneffected racers and their jockeys had all heeded 
the red lit hooter on the tote board and had vacated 
completely off the track to the backside stables or 
the test barn.  Cap could see the remaining loose 
thoroughbreds were firmly back in reining hands.

##Ladies and Gentlemen. Please hold all tickets.##
said the track announcer. ##Officials are dealing with
the situation on the track's far turn. Race Five is delayed 
until further notice. All pool, trifecta, and daily double 
betting is now frozen at all teller windows. Please 
stand by for the results of the steward's inquiry.##

Hank frowned. ::How cold is that? There are possibly
dead horses and people out there and all the track
officials are worried about is keeping the gamblers
happy?.. No wonder I hate the track..:: he thought.
::Don't get what Roy sees in playing the horses at
all.::

----------

Chet and Stoker stepped out onto the track
when the tote board light stopped flashing its loose
horse warning. Together they began dragging out
the hoses to where they could see Roy and John 
and Marco moving from fallen rider to fallen rider. 
"Coming through..." Chet said angrily, as blue 
grounds crew backs just concentrating on 
tractoring the starting gate into position for the 
next race, got in their way.

The track horse ambulance team was already 
leading away a limping foreleg shattered filly to the 
attending vet awaiting there with a syringe. Kelly 
felt sick to his stomach. "They're gonna put her down?" 
he shouted at Stoker over the noise of the tractors.

"Yeah, there's nothing they can do after a
horse's leg has been broken." Mike replied. "I've
seen this before." he said lugging the heavy
hose to the nearest downed horse.

Gage looked up from the nearly unconscious
jockey he was assessing. "Stoker. Not
that one. He's the one who caused this 
pileup. He burst a lung vessel and was dead 
even before he hit the ground. See the bright 
blood flowing out of his nostrils there? Go cool 
down that colt still twitching over by the rail. 
Hose down just his head. Be sure to loosen 
that saddle strap and take his bridle out from 
between his teeth if you can while you're doing it. 
He may come around from the heat in time.. All 
the trainers will be out here in a sec to take over 
the horse care for ya.. Do whatever they ask of 
you." Then Johnny bent to work over his patient. 
 
"But what about these other jockeys?" Chet asked.

Johnny met Chet's eyes heavily.
"Roy and Marco and I have everything taken
care of on our end. There's only these two victims.
The other jockeys were killed along with
their horses. We found that most have hangman's 
fractures from their falls and that guy's been trampled 
to death." he gestured with his head behind him.

Kelly saw a lone tiny male jockey lying face 
down in the dirt not too far away. The back of his
chest bore the unmistakable crushed flat look of a 
fatality. He almost looked like a shattered marionette 
to Chet.

Stoker looked up, too, in shock when he saw
Roy only dealing with the american woman jockey
still draped over the inner rail.  DeSoto was
getting the grounds crew men to carefully hold
her neck still while he placed her into a cervical 
collar while he continued talking quietly with her.

"UGghhhHHH." she moaned. "How's Little
Bit? H-- How's my filly? She got away from me
after Charismatic went down. *cough*."

"Shh, try not to move, miss. You may have
a serious back injury." Roy told her.
"Now we're going to immobilize you and slide you
onto this long board here. Then we'll get you on 
some oxygen so you can breathe a little better, 
all right?"

Behind Roy, the sealed horse ambulance
shifted with a thud on its tires as a heavy
weight inside of it fell to the floor.

The woman didn't say anything more and
she started weeping uncontrollably, ignoring 
the men who were easing her off the railing 
inch by inch. "They euthanized her didn't they..? 
They killed my Little Bit..Oh, nooooOOOoo." 

"I'm sorry, ma'am. From what I could see
her leg was fractured too badly to splint."
Roy said quietly. "At least she's been released
from her agony."

"nnnooo." The jockey sobbed once more and let 
go her hold on consciousness as she was strapped 
onto the long board and immobilized.

The woman rider was placed on the ground
and Roy hastily placed an O2 mask over her 
face and started to take a BP on her good arm
after making sure she could breathe well enough
on her back without the help of an oral airway.

He looked up at the grounds crew men who
had helped him. "Stick around. There's no
way the Mayfair's gonna be able to come
out here like we did. This dirt's too deep.We're
gonna have to hand carry these people outta 
here once we get them treated." he told them.

The Santa Anita workers nodded.

Then Roy yelled after Johnny. "Hey Johnny! 
What do you got?"

"I got four Code F... This guy's got a ton of broken ribs 
on the left side. I'm finding signs of marked flail 
chest. And he's having a lot of trouble breathing.
The O2's not helping. Gonna have to stabilize 
this first before we move him out. Man, don't these 
guys believe in flack vests and helmets?"

"Nah, " Roy said tightly. "They don't want
to wear them because of the extra weight."

"That's gotta change. Oh, man. Look around us. This
is a just a senseless massacre..!" Gage swore.

"I don't make the rules." Roy replied.

"No, you just support the industry by 
condoning them with bets on the horses
instead." Johnny snapped as he carefully 
had some track crew help him roll the 
moaning injured jockey onto his bad side 
once he had been immobilized.

Roy tactfully didn't say anything.

The motion drove the wounded man awake and
he began to swear a stream of words that
weren't in understandable english. Marco 
calmed him in animated Spanish getting a quick
history and verbal account of injury from him.

Kelly and Stoker were hard at work with the
hose. Stoker was holding the horse's
head straight out so the heat overwhelmed colt
could breathe while Chet played a powerful stream
of icy water over his head to cool down his brain 
pan as rapidly as he could. Soon the horse 
began snorting in tight gasps and his legs 
began to kick out as he started snapping out 
of his unconsciousness.

"Look out!" said a few of the starting gate guys and
they jumped down from the tractors with ropes
to tie around the colts legs so he wouldn't hurt
the firemen trying to help him. 

A gnarled old trainer huffed and puffed his way up
to Chet and he patted him in the shoulder.
"Easy. Ok, keep it up boys, just like that. The
crew's got his legs pinned. Now, play the water
over the rest of him. Get his chest first. Then
everywhere but the legs, for that will cause the 
tendons to bow permanently if they're cooled 
too fast. Don't want him irreversibly lame."

"Sir?" said Stoker, startled at the trainer's
sudden appearance. "Can we do anything
for the other racers down around us? We
have an extra hose."

"Nah. They've cooked too much in the sun.
Ain't nothing gonna wake em now. It's too late.
We can only save this young colt here."

"But.." Kelly started up.

"Just keep working young man.." the wizened
trainer told him. He sighed and got up
from his crouch and wandered over to the dead
stallion in the dirt with the blood filled nose. He
stepped on the horse's flank and pressed down
with a foot, cocking his head when he heard the 
telltale gurgle of lungs drowned in an artery 
burst. "Oh, Dusty Schraeder. Now you've gone 
too far."

Near him, Gage was writing down the vitals he
had obtained on his patient. "Don't tell me.
Skipped Lasix treatment to cut budget corners
with a little insurance money collection on the side?"

The older man in the straw hat looked up
at the dark eyed paramedic who had spoken to him.
"Fraid so. Oldest track scam in the book 'cept for
calcium stunting to cause bone failure." the trainer 
said. "You know about horses, young man.."

"I know a bit.." Johnny said. "I have a ranch full of em.
Excuse me.." and he started to relay his medical
information to Cap via his walkie talkie..

--------------------------------

Photo :  Brent Brackett looking at
             an x-ray.

Photo : Anna Rose Brackett looking soft eyed.

Photo : Kel Brackett getting smooched by Dixie.

Photo : A racetrack starting gate with an ambulance.

Photo : Roy DeSoto in helmet looking down.

Photo : Johnny Gage looking down at victim by squad.

Photo : Jockey wearing C collar surrounded by help,
            equipment, and his racehorse.

Photo : Another jockey holding down a stricken 
            horses's head.

Photo : Cap and Chet stand ready with a water hose.

Photo : Crew putting ropes around a struggling blindfolded
             injured horse.

*****************************************
From : Sam Iam <lafddispatcher@yahoo.com>  
Subject : [EmergencyTheaterLive] Sticky Situations  
Date : Sat, 8 Mar 2003 23:16:01 -0800 (PST)  
 
Acknowledgements to P. Keiper for providing
an EMT scenario allowing for a believable
slide downhill for the downed male jockey
enough, so my plot twist idea could work.

Acknowledgements to Dr. Jeff Seltun on
giving me the doctor speak for all the medical 
want-to-happens I threw at him.

 
---------------
 
"Squad 51 to Engine 51. Uh, Cap, advise L.A. 
that we have multiple fatalities here. Numbered four."
Johnny Gage lowered his voice so the kindly trainer
nearest him standing over the dead, bled out racer,
couldn't overhear. "And... ask for a police response.  
I have reason to believe this pileup wasn't an accident."
Then he spoke louder with a heads up glance at Roy 
for his history.. "Stand by for vitals on two victims,
Engine 51."

##10-4, Squad 51. .............L.A. has been notified. 
Standing by and awaiting vital signs.## Cap replied.

Johnny Gage bent over his agitated victim. "Hey..
senor..Can you hear me? Just try to relax. 
Strapping ya on this board's just a precaution. Now 
you've got some broken ribs here that we need to 
take care of.  Just try to keep from moving around
okay? Having ya on your side like this is gonna
help you breathe better. Marco, keep holding
him just like that. If you have to, get some 
of those guys over here to help you."

Marco spoke a few short words in spanish
and two members of the grounds crew 
came and knelt by them to help hold the 
injured man in position. "Como te llama?"
Lopez asked the injured jockey.

"Jose' Rivero. Aiiyy.." said the man irritatedly.
The jockey continued to swear and cuss in
spanish but his anger wasn't directed at
Gage or Lopez. It was aimed towards a second 
trainer who was staying well away from
the dead thoroughbreds. The man was
dispassionately chewing tobacco as he 
watched track officials taking photographs
of the dead horses and riders.

The fallen jockey swept off his oxygen mask
and spit in insult as he continued to glare at the dark 
dressed man. "Jefe Schraeder! Hablas usted con tu'
ahora. Por que? Mis amigos son muerto!
Por nada!!" cried the wounded racehorse 
rider and he once more tried to lift his head up. 
"Y mi caballo is infermo sol malo porque de tu!"

Gage held him down firmly by the 
shoulders. "Hey, hey.. Now settle down.
That C collar's there for a reason. Stay still. Now
tell me what's wrong? Your breathing's a little off... 
Listen to me.. Hey..Where else are you hurting
besides your chest here?" 

The jockey ignored Gage until Marco grabbed
him by the face firmly, motioning for him
to look him in the eyes intently. 
"Eschuchas!..Nosostros son ayudar. Donde 
es su dolor?!"

The jockey tried to pull away from Marco's grasp,
and locked up in agony on the long board, ignoring 
both firemen as he continued to rant at Dusty 
Schraeder standing just within range of 
eyesight. Lopez shook his head in frustration
and glanced up at Johnny. "I told him to listen
to us and that we're trying to help, but he's
not answering me about where else he's
hurting."

Johnny looked at Marco. "What DID ya
get from him? He's off in his own little
world here. Man, if I didn't know better, I'd
say he's out for vengeance." he said 
drawing out his clothes shears from his 
hip holster. Gage began to cut away the 
stained orange and brown silks from 
the man's torso for a closer survey.
"Set that 02 back onto his face again 
Marco. He's getting a little cyanotic."

 Marco nodded his head moving the
clear plastic mask back over the man's
struggling mouth. "His name is Jose' 
Rivera. He is begging his boss for a reason 
why his friends died and he's blaming him
for his horse being sun sick like he is."

"That guy over there?" Johnny pointed
to Dusty Schraeder.

"Yeah.."

Johnny looked up at the black cowboy 
hatted Texan and felt an immediate dislike
for the man. ::But he's something for 
Vince to worry about when he gets
here.::  His eyes then swept to the colt
Mike Stoker and Chet Kelly were trying
to save with the assistance of the kindly 
old trainer.

The colt was now resting on his belly, 
quivering like a newborn as he fought the rest of
the way to wakefulness under the flowing 
stream of the fire hose. His soaked coffee 
bay coat literally steamed in the sun in twisting
curls of sour smelling humidity. A thick
foam began to spread over his whithers
and flanks. Johnny heard the kindly old trainer 
murmur that they were succeeding in drawing 
the young horse out of heatstroke. "That's it.
Just kidney sweat now.. That's a good sign."

"Is he going to make it, Mr. Farley?" Chet asked.

The man he had learned was named Walter,
didn't reply and the worried look on Kelly's
face returned in force.

Gage kept his face neutral as thoughts raced
through his head. ::No, that will be up to his 
owners. Heat stroke recovery usually takes three 
months to half a year. That colt's got good lines. 
Hope his share holders make the right choice..:: 
Johnny thought glancing away from his coworkers. 

Gage looked down and swept agile fingers around 
Jose's head and down his body, looking for deformities.

He found a small oozing gash on his chest that was
alternately retracting in and burping out as the
angry man respired. The tiny sucking wound was
on the side away from the man's main ribcage injury. 
"Marco.. grab an occlusive dressing and tape 
it over this wound here. Seal it off only 
on three sides. Looks like this laceration's penetrated 
through into his chest. He must have fallen on
something sharp when his horse went down."

"Got it.." Lopez said. 

Johnny felt along the jockey's sweating chest
thoroughly but found grating, moving bones 
only on the flailed side. He snatched for his
stethoscope out of the drug box and
listened to the holed side carefully, then
compared the breath sounds he heard
there to the ones under the rib fractures.
He grunted, making a mental note and
took another set of vitals before finishing 
the rest of his survey on the jockey. 

He found no further injuries.

Johnny returned to the man's throat
and felt the cooling skin in the area
carefully and over his chest once again. 
Then he looked at how the rider's 
larnyx sat in relation to the rest of his 
neck by sight as he reassessed the man's
consciousness level and checked his
pupils.

Gage nodded at Roy, who had just
completed his secondary survey of the 
unconscious woman rider. 

DeSoto had his helpers carry the girl closer
to Johnny and the drug box until both
their victims were side by side, head to head,
nearest all the equipment. Roy crouched over 
the EKG monitor case and he opened it. "She's
stable. The 02's keeping her in good color." 
he said, handing Johnny his pad of notes. 
"Add one more thing. She's got a open fracture 
of her left radius and ulna, with sluggish perfusion. 
I immobilized her arm in the best position 
I could find and she's still got neural responses
and pulses in her hand and fingers but they're 
degrading. She may have torn an artery or vein 
internally. I'll get your victim patched in for ya 
on Lead Two."

"Okay.." Johnny relayed to Captain Stanley
on his hand held radio once more.
"Engine 51. This is HT 51. We're set for a 
medical relay to Rampart."

##Go ahead, HT 51.##

Cap Stanley watched as Vince and a detective car
pulled up. He re-established communications on
the biophone that he had perched on a track rail post, 
with apprehension. "Rampart, this is Engine 51. 
I'll be relaying from Squad 51 in 2. They are still 
inaccessible on the horse track and out of effective 
biophone communications range." 

##10-4, 51. Standing by.## said Dixie.

Once again, Captain Stanley cursed
the whole idea of Santa Anita's turf and dirt race 
tracks being set into a bowl just so two lakes could 
grace the racing infield's garden grove of Queen's 
palm trees.  ::Stupid design. Even if having that
extra water there is a boon for any future fire
call. At least Roy's EKG telemetry will get out.::

Johnny spoke into his HT to Cap.
"Engine 51, Victim One. Male, age
approximately 19 at 105 pounds.
Vitals signs are; Pulse 124, respirations
are 20 and shallow, BP is 100/62. Pupils
are equal and reactive. He's diaphoretic,
conscious, and emotionally agitated. He's 
on fifteen liters O2. I've found paradoxical 
breathing symptoms with a large flail segment 
on his left side. He has a sucking chest wound 
to his upper right chest, now occluded. I'm 
hearing rales on the left and diminished breath 
sounds on the right. Subcutaneous emphysema 
is present about the neck and upper chest. He 
has been immobilized and positioned flail side down. 
His EKG is showing sinus tach. Sending you a strip, 
lead two."

Cap relayed the information and soon Joe
Early responded. ##10-4, Engine 51. Tell
Squad 51 to start a large bore IV Normal
Saline with Lactated Ringers. Run in a 500 
cc bolus initially until his BP comes back up again,
then leave it TKO. Have them watch for signs 
of further  difficulty. I suspect
a pneumothorax. EKG is now showing sinus 
tach at a rate of 130. Splint the flail segment 
by taping only the effected side until his
breathing improves. Prepare to assist 
his ventilations if his resp rate increases over
24 times a minute. Treat for shock. Tell them I
want a new set of vitals every five minutes.##

Cap replied. "10-4, Rampart. Stand by."
and he shared the orders with his two paramedics
still working a quarter of a mile away down on the final
turn. He soon got Roy and Johnny's confirmation
on the orders, and he immediately, received 
information about their second victim over his HT.

Cap listened, memorizing details. Then he
called in his men's second medical data set 
to Joe Early on the biophone.
"Rampart. Victim number two. A 
female approximately 24 years of age.
Weight 102 pounds. Found prone over a rail. 
Was conscious, now comatose. Vitals signs are, pulse
90, respirations are 14, BP 100/76. Pupils are
equal and reactive, but sluggish. She's been fully 
immobilized and is on fifteen liters 02.
  My paramedic notes probable neck and back 
injuries. There's quivering in the upper extremities 
and bilateral positive Babinski's finding on
both legs. He earlier reported a growing lack of 
sensation on her from lumbar three on down. 
There appears to be no palpable spinal deformity.
   Victim has an open fracture of the lower 
left arm. Circulation and sensation is 
partially compromised despite splinting in
position of alignment." 

Cap got his followup on the woman for a 
precautionary IV and a rapid transport order.
Inwardly, he hope the girl would get to surgery
in time to save her arm and effect repair to
stop the creeping paralysis she seemed to be
suffering. 

He finished correspondence between his men
and the hospital. Soon, he waved the Mayfair
to the road where he was standing as it
arrived in full siren. "We're gonna load up right 
here. The paramedics are bringing in two victims
from out there on longboards.." he told
the attendants running to his side. "The 
dirt's too soft for your rig to handle."

The two men nodded and intently watched
the group of people, bearing the two jockeys
in between them all, walking their way.

---------

Cap wasn't surprised to see Detective Crockett
flanking Vince Howard when he had put the biophone
into the awaiting ambulance. "Vince. Detective Crockett.
My man Gage thinks our racing accident wasn't accidental.
I trust his judgement since he's a pretty good horseman 
off duty."

"We got any witnesses?" Vince asked.

Cap replied. "Two. But one is unconscious and the other
is in no shape to talk right now. Both jockeys. And I
think Johnny was hinting about learning something
from one of those trainers milling about, too. 
Nothing concrete, just a hunch I got from the tone
of his voice."

The tall quiet African American detective thoughtfully
rubbed his chin. "Ok, we'll take it from here, Captain.
Thank you. I'll have a talk with your paramedics once
they're through with their run. Call me once the squad's 
back at the station?" he said, heading off the fire
captain's worry that the detective would get in the 
way of his men.

"Sure will." Cap said. He took the card the detective
handed him and pocketted it. He started off  
towards Kelly and Mike as they headed back to the
grandstand apron.

Smiling craftily as Cap disappeared around a bend,
Detective Crockett took one look at the deep track 
dirt and then one more at his shiny black shoes, 
before he unhesitantly stepped ankle deep into the 
sandy loam to rendevous with 51's medics on the 
far turn.  

-------

Hank Stanley intercepted Chet and Stoker as 
they returned to the paddock side road dragging 
their hoses behind them. "I couldn't see what 
you were doing. Are they gonna make it?" 
he asked about the horses. 

"Only one, Cap. Our helping trainer, Walter
Farley, said we got there too late for the others. 
Apparently, racehorses cook to death internally
on hot days like this if they take a fall more than 
halfway through a race. He said it happens because
their metabolisms are kicked in overdrive."
Kelly said dully.

Cap sighed in sympathy. "Oh, I'm sorry.
I got some good news at least. Two of the 
jockeys are still alive.."

"That's great, Cap." Stoker said without enthusiasm.
Come on, Chet. Let's get these hoses packed." and 
Hank watched his two disheartened men plod 
dejectedly back to the Engine with their load.

Cap called out after them. "Stoker, would you
snag a ride with a track steward cart to go
fetch the squad? You're gonna have to follow
the ambulance with it. Gage and DeSoto really
have their hands full right now."

"Right, Cap." Mike replied and he jogged back the way
he had come, leaving Chet to do the heavy 
work. In sympathy, Cap pocketed his HT and 
helped Kelly out by climbing onto the hose bed
of the engine to be primary hauler.

--------------------------------------

"Crockett! I don't have time to talk with
you now.." Gage said distractedly as he
and the grounds crew and paramedic 
struggled to carry equipment and victims
to the far rail and the firm concrete apron
beneath the grandstand. 

"I just want to ask you a few questions."
The detective said, lifting his feet high and
stumbling a bit in the loam.

"Fine..then help me by taking over.."
he said, snatching the detective's hand and
forcing him to grab the ambu he was
using on Jose'. "Bag him when he
breathes in and also when he doesn't. 
Twelve times a minute." he ordered.

"But uh, he's still awake."

"Yeah. I know. Assisting him like this is 
helping splint some rib fractures he's got
inside. Marco tells me Jose' says it hurts
like h*ll but he's grateful for the help."

"Ok. I got it."
Crockett began squeezing the ambu bag 
after quickly picking up how Johnny had 
been managing. He opened his mouth.
"I know Spanish, too. Maybe I can kill
three birds with one stone by--"

Gage got into Crockett's face. "If you
ask Jose' any question other than, 'How 
are you doing?' I'll deck ya.."

Crockett closed his mouth.  
The tall detective nodded dutifully,
outmaneuvered, and just squeezed the bag. 

Johnny moved Jose's IV bag from under
the boy's shoulder to his own teeth 
to hold as he turned up the dial to wide
open when he saw the young teen pale 
another shade of gray. "Let's move 
faster."

Johnny felt a hand weakily clutching his
own. Gage leaned down. "Hold it
Crockett. Looks like Jose's trying to say
something."  It was a rare moment of
absolute clarity for the young teen.

Jose' met Johnny's eyes meaningfully
and he gasped as the ambu was lifted away. 
"Don't let them kill that horse. Save him, 
senor. I pay you t-" he said in very very 
broken english. The effort to speak took his 
breath away as Jose's pain bit down hard. His
lungs cramped up yet again. Gage gestured 
Crockett to help the teen breathe
once more on the bag valved 02.

Jose' was so agitated, that Gage caught the kind
old trainer, Walter Farley's attention. 
"Hey, Mr. Farley!"

"Yeah?" the old man shouted back from
where he was helping the colt stand.

"I'm that colt's insurance policy. Do
everything you can for him, ok?" Johnny
said.

Walter smiled. "For the kid?"

"Yeah.. for the kid.." Gage replied.

Walter Farley gave Johnny Gage
a thumbs up in encouragement and
a slow nod of grateful appreciation.

Johnny saw Jose' start to calm 
immediately.

"Gracias, senor." Jose' sighed softly.

----------

In the ambulance, Crockett took full 
advantage of playing an active part in Jose's
care by letting his curiosity get the best of
him.

"This is fascinating.." Squeeze. "What's
that taped to Jose's chest?" Crockett
asked from his place at the jockey's
head. "Looks like a metal ingot." he shouted 
over the wail of the sirens as they sped to
the hospital.

Johnny didn't look up from where he was
setting up yet another IV for the teen rider
sitting across from where Roy crouched over his 
own patient lying on the passenger bench. 

He ducked his head self consciously. "Walter 
Farley gave me one of the colt's lead saddle 
weights to use to splint the unstable
section of ribs here." Johnny pointed.

"Oo, I'd hate to be the groom who has
to return that saddle to the winner circle's 
weight scale." The detective quipped, 
mentally filed away the name Gage gave 
him for future reference.

Gage didn't laugh.

"Why would someone put a weight on
anyone with broken ribs like this?" Crockett
asked to lighten the feeling of tension
in the ambulance. 

Gage grimaced with impatience as
he reached for a BP cuff. "I'd love
to talk about flail chest protocol with
you all day but I'm rather busy right
now, detective.." and he buried his ears
in stethoscope to tune him out.

Crockett blinked and jerked a free thumb 
at Gage in a questioning gesture to Roy, 
offering a little what's-with-him? shrug.

Roy looked up from rechecking 
his patient's breathing and pulse
rate. "Johnny gets a little intense about 
anyone under his care. Especially if they're 
critical."

Crockett's face fell into an immediate
frown. "You mean?" he looked down
at the increasingly groggy Jose' beneath
the ambu's face mask.

"Yeah, collapsed lung. And it's getting 
worse." Roy said. "Try to cut my partner 
some slack. He's just staying focused." he said, 
quickly and sharp. Then he softened, raising 
his eyebrows. "Good bagging. Keep it up 
just like you're doing it, Crockett.
Any ease we can give Jose' now 
is a point in our favor.."

"How's the girl?" Crockett asked
DeSoto.

"Fair. She's might be trying to wake up here."
he said, readjusting her O2 mask so 
it stayed out of her eyes.

"Did you manage to get her name before
she blacked out?" 

Roy said. "Not directly. Her name's
Mary Kenner. I got it from the betting
tote board using her mount's number.
It always lists trainer and jockey."

::And another piece of the puzzle.::
the detective mused.

The rushing Mayfair ambulance turned a 
corner as it left the Santa Anita Track 
property.

Crockett noticed a change in Jose' about
the same time Johnny did. "Hey, Gage,
he's not taking in the bag breaths too well. I'm
getting a weird resistance and he's not even
trying to breathe in anymore."

"Just keep ventilating him exactly as
you are." Johnny straddled Jose's gurney
and listened close to both sides of the
man's chest in haste. "D*mn." He
felt Jose's neck and he looked at Roy.
"I got absent breath sounds unilaterally and 
he's starting to show trachael deviation.
I'm seeing jugular vein distension, too.
Gotta be a tension pneumo."

Roy reached over and ripped off the 
occlusive patch Marco had placed 
earlier over the jockey's chest wound.
He waited a beat, then replaced it down
firmly over the jagged tear. "Did that help any?"

Johnny listened again through his stethoscope.
"Nah.. not enough to matter."

On the EKG, Jose's heart rate jolted up
into the low 140's and an alarm began to
sound. Roy took a hasty BP. "It's down.
78/52."

Johnny shouted. "Jose'..Keep trying
to breathe on your own. We're going to
help y--" He broke off belatedly. "Sh*t. I wish 
I'd taken Marco up on his offer to teach me Spanish. 
Crockett. You talk to him. Keep him calm."
and he snatched the phone to Rampart.
"Rampart this is Rescue 51, how do you read?"

Joe Early was still on the intercom.
##Go ahead, 51. What's the trouble? I note 
Victim One's increased tachycardia.##

Gage told him Jose's new development.

Brackett and Joe Early both met eyes 
in sudden worry.

Kel said to Dix. "Have a chest tube set up
in his treatment room. Looks like Johnny's
gonna do his first needle chest decompression
in the field. Joe, go ahead and give him the
order. He can handle it."

Dixie left to make the arrangements.

Joe got back on the line.##51, pull over. You're going
to have to relieve the building pressure with a 
pleural thoracotomy ASAP. Dr. Brackett
concurs with me.##

"10-4.." Johnny said and he got off Jose's
gurney and slapped the driver peek window
twice, loudly. They felt the Mayfair grind to a 
halt at a curb just as Jose' fell into deep
unconsciousness.

Seconds later, Mike Stoker opened the outer
doors, and looked into the ambulance cab. "What's 
the problem?" he asked, knowing the rig never
stopped unless it was for an invasive treatment.

"Chest tap for a tension pneumo. It's pretty 
far along. Stick around." Roy told Stoker. 
Wordlessly he thought. ::Let's hope we
don't need Stoker for some CPR here.::

Crockett cleared his throat. "Oh, boy.."
he said when Johnny drew out a long
needle and butterfly valve. "You're gonna
stick him with that?" he said.

Gage said. "Yeah. If you can't handle it,
I'll have Stoker take over f--"

"Just do what you have to, Gage."
Crockett said continuing to bag Jose'
steadily. "You're wasting time." Crockett
loosened his tie and wiped some sweat
off his upper lip.

Johnny's face cracked into a slight smile
for a moment before Roy swabbed
down the proper area over the right side 
of Jose's chest. Then his expression melted
into one of concentration. "Ok,... Roy. I'm
going into the second intercostal space
anteriorly.. Don't hold your breath..."
Gage said, doing just that. "Crockett. Hold off 
just a sec. Start ventilating him double time as 
soon as I have this thing out again."
  Johnny felt his needle punch through into the 
abnormally gaping pleural space and a loud 
rush of air hissed out immediately through it. 
"Bingo. Tension pneumo diagnosis is confirmed."
He chuckled withdrawing the needle slowly. "Ok,
Crockett. I'm through." he said, throwing
the hollow lance into the sharps disposal bin
on the wall. "It's out."

Crockett opened his eyes and smiled when
he felt an immediate change as he began to 
work the ambu again. More oxygen seemed 
to be getting into the teen's lungs.
"Hey, I think he's better."

Gage listened to his handywork. "Yep. He sure is.
Breath sounds are back. Just some new minor
rales on the right. Might be pulmonary contusion 
noise cropping up." he sat back and sighed
grabbing up the phone as the EKG settled back
into a slower, more effective sinus rhythm.
"Rampart. Chest decompression was successful."

## 10-4, 51. Is the boy unconscious? ##

"That's affirmative, Rampart.."

##What are his vital signs?##

Roy had already anticipated that need.
"BP 112/86, Respirations unassisted are
8. Pulse is 110 and regular. He was getting
pretty tired before his new complication."

##Go ahead and intubate him for more effective 
ventilations and support for those rib fractures. 
Have two mg's Diazepam IV set to use to keep him 
sedated PRN.  Return his drip rate to TKO 
following any usage.##

"Two mg's Diazepam PRN and intubate for 
controlled ventilations. IV to TKO following any 
sedation med. 10-4, Rampart. Our ETA is six 
minutes."

Roy tapped Johnny on the shoulder and
handed him an unwrapped endotrach tube to 
which Crockett said. "Y-You're going to stick him
with that?"

Even Mike Stoker cracked a grin.

=================================
Photo: Johnny Gage in a confidential
            pose with Detective Crockett.

Photo:  A jockey and horse down on the track.

Photo : Johnny taking care of two victims O2
            in an ambulance.

 *******************************  
From :"Roxy Dee" <laterrapincabesa@hotmail.com>  
Subject : Covering Bases~~  
Date :Tue, 11 Mar 2003 22:52:16 +0000 
 
Dixie and Joe walked out to the main ER desk
and both sighed heavily as Jose' Rivera's rolling
gurney left for surgery. Crockett followed them out
of the exam room, trailing after Johnny as he 
headed straight for the call station coffee pot.

He was shaking his hands and massaging them
to work out some cramps. "I don't know how
you paramedics handle that bagging thing without
your fingers falling off. I don't think I'll be 
able to lift a fork by dinner time."

 Johnny laughed in sympathy.
"A typical week sees us breathing for people 
that way for hours. Especially on all the bad cardiac
runs. Guess I never noticed what a work out ambu 
ventilating is probably because we lug fire hoses 
around so much." he admitted. Then he eyed Joe.
Gage asked. "Hey, doc." he said pouring himself
a cupful and then enough for everyone else. "Do you
think that rider'll pull through?" he asked. "I know
pulmonary contusions that come afterwards 
with broken ribs that extensive, can get a little tricky 
sometimes."

"He's young and strong." Dr. Early sniffed, rubbing his 
nose in careful thought. "You saw how much 
having that chest tube inserted improved him. I 
think that a lifetime in the racing saddle will be his 
ticket to a speedy recovery. Jockeys are top
notch athletes and they're usually in terrific shape. 
I've heard it's hard to make them lose their focus 
about anything as trivial mere broken bones." he 
joked. "They stay on their game and never lose sight 
of what's important to them."

"I sure got an earful of that.. I think Jose' talked
me into an arrangement I just may regret." Johnny 
groaned.

"Oh?" Dixie commented sipping her coffee 
carefully.

Roy had rejoined them from his treatment
room where Mary Kenner was getting her
fractured arm and torn radial artery emergency
repaired by Dr. Brackett and he grinned,
leaning on the wall spinning the walkie talkie slung
on one wrist absently.  "The thoroughbred Jose' 
was riding got a little too much sun after his little 
tumble in the jockey pileup. Mr. Rivera
wouldn't relax for us until he knew he had 
someone lined up to step in to accept the horse's 
care costs in lieu of any move the owners 
might make to put him down."

Dix's face split into a wide grin, which Joe
echoed. "You didn't?"

Gage cleared his throat uncomfortably and
just sipped his coffee.

Crockett chuckled, folding his arms across
his elbows in amusement. "Now that might
be kinda costly Mr. Gage. You just might have 
entered into a binding verbal agreement which
is well on the way to actually acquiring him."

"What?! I did?" Johnny said, nearly spitting 
out his drink.  

Crockett moved in for the killing tease.
Yeah... I've seen handshake deals out there
going on all the time. No one bothers with paper
work. It's all on the honor system. Heh.
I hear that the average race horse costs, what? 
Five to ten thousand dollars for those who 
regularly bring in the purses?"

"At least." Joe Early said.

Gage's mouth fell slack in a stunned "ouch."
His mind was still working on the idea of
racehorse assumed ownership.

Crockett smoothed down his detective jacket's
lapels. "I wouldn't worry about it, Johnny. 
Who knows? Maybe you can get your other
fire crewmates to help you cover all of his
shares by splitting costs among all the
shift assignments." 

Johnny's eyes boggled out as he kicked into
scheme gear. "Say.. that's true! I mean,
we all chip in already and share costs 
for our food." he insisted. "

"Oh no.." Roy said blandly, his smile dropping
off his face into one of sheer dread. "Johnny,
I wouldn't exactly say a racehorse is the same
thing as a package of T-bone steaks."

"Knock it off, Roy. What's a few bucks up front gonna
matter? It's for a worthy cause at least. It's not like
we're going to the stock market to gamble it 
it all away."

"That's just what I'm afraid of." Roy said with a frown.
"Everything about owning a race horse IS a gamble,
Junior, in case you haven't noticed. I sure did. And I
only like to bet on 'em." he voiced in dire insistence. 


But his partner was oblivious.

"Listen, Johnny, you can talk to the guys about this 
later. All I know is that I'M not letting you talk me into 
this thing, no matter how hard ya try.." and Roy picked 
up the drug and IV resupply box Dixie had prepared 
for them and made tracks for the squad where
Mike Stoker was waiting. "See ya later, guys."
he said to Crockett, Dix and Joe.

"Hey.. Roy.. Wait a minute!!" Johnny said, 
eagerly setting after his departing partner. 
Then he remembered. "Oh, heh. Sorry, all.
Bye Joe, Dix, Crockett. Thanks for everything.
I'll be seeing you.. Excuse me here... I gotta go talk 
some SENSE into my thick headed partner. 
He's talking crazy..." he insisted with quickly 
gesturing fingers.

All three nodded and rolled their eyes as
Johnny quickly darted around people in
the busy hospital corridors in hot pursuit
of Roy DeSoto's retreating back.

"I think you created a monster.." Dixie
mumbled to Crockett as she refilled their
cups to the brim once more.

"Heh, heh, heh. Actually I think it's more along the
lines of the fact that I just created a firehouse 
full of bonafide saints, Miss McCall... " Crockett said,
rocking back on his heels. "Have a wonderful afternoon. 
Give me a call when Miss Kenner's awake, would ya? 
I'd like to speak with her about the accident today."

"Sure thing." Joe said, looking up from Jose's
patient chart where he was dictating notes.

Crockett left, heading for the police station 
to read Vince's crime report that he had ordered
the officer to gather from the track incident's 
trainers and uninjured jockeys.

-----------------------------------------------

Racehorse trainer, Dusty Schraeder, entered his barn full 
of green thoroughbreds. He immediately headed for his 
one lone groom tending to a wheel barrel full of straw 
and manure that he had just cleared out from the dead 
stallion's stall. He was halfway down the aisle leading 
to the rusty dumpster set outside for just such material. 
"Hey, Manuel! Paramiso, mi amigo.  Uno momentito.." 
Dusty called out, tossing his black five gallon cowboy
hat onto the tack tree hook holding racing bridles
as he strode into the dark, fan noise filled barn row.

The tiny old jockey Mexican native turned at his
jefe's voice, "Senor Schraeder?" he coughed as
he pulled on his cigarette and he rubbed his ripped
and soiled T shirt absently with tobacco stained
gnarled fingers clean to offer out a handshake of
congratulations. "He died fast, no? It is really a 
seemple thing to kill a horse.."

Dusty immediately backhanded the little man in
the face, sending him over the laden wheel barrel 
onto the shoddily raked earthen floor. "That was
sloppy..."

Waste soiled straw spilled onto Manuel as he struggled to
his feet in fear. "Senor? Que? No Comprendo !
I do it good enough. Did he not go down on the final turn?" 
his cigarette smoke raspy, south of the border voice 
cracked.

"You imbecile!" Dusty screamed. "I'm not talking
about Charismatic! I'm talking about his STALL!.. I'm
not smelling any Lasix in here." he said, walking into
the decrepid box stall, sniffing the air. "How
are we going to prove ourselves innocent of his
sudden death if there's no drugs showing up in his 
p*ss hole?" He angrily drew out a syringe full of the 
antibleeder from his jacket and bit the needle cover off. 
He squirted out half in a careless rain into the urine hole 
at his feet and the rest he injected into the horse's water
bucket. "Now I don't wanna have to tell you twice.
Don't TOUCH that bucket."

"Si, senor, lo ciento.. " Manuel said, immediately
recovering his battered L.A. Angels cap from the muck
on the floor as he wiped away the blood from the
side of his mouth. " The aqua is no toca, si. A-And
I not forget the next time about the shots to the dirt
like you do now." he said. "Sorry.."

Dusty's anger melted away and he tossed the spent
Lasix syringe into Manuel's wheel barrel and helped
the shaken man pitchfork its tumbled load back inside
of it. Then he drew his crooked groom under one arm.
"I didn't mean to hit ya, buddy. I....wasn't thinking.
I hate it when we have to kill a perfectly good horse just
for appearances. Let me make amends?" he said,
pulling out a fat wallet full of cash. He started counting
out bills one at a time before the small man's cowering
face.

Manuel's toothless grin erupted almost as big as his
eyes and he greedily held out his dirty hands for the
payment. 

Dusty said, "Here. Two hundred for the job. Just like
we agreed. And another fifty just for the h*ll of it. 
You did good my friend. Even your rival Jose's horse, 
Swale, got hoof clipped into a good fall. Jose was wrecked 
up bad. He won't be riding for months. Looks like its 
clear sailing for you AND me. Now go get some ice for 
your face. And take the night off. I'll finish up here."

Manual scrambled away, mumbling gratitudes and he 
quickly climbed onto his ramshackle seatless bike and 
pedalled off for the barn dorms.

Dusty Schraeder knew that by sundown,  his wayward
groom would be in no condition to talk to the police and 
track officials he knew would be stopping off in the barn 
for the standard post mortem stall tests. ::With 250 
greenbacks in hand, I doubt Manuel will be sober enough 
then to even know his own name..:: the evil trainer thought.

Humming contentedly, Dusty made sure his run down 
operation looked as finely raked and pristine as any other 
racing barn's on the row.  He set his final touch by grabbing 
some field clover from the patch of weeds under the barn's 
leaky hose faucet and shoved the yellow blooms into 
a dusty vase on top of the nearly empty, barely regulation, 
first aid kit he had hanging next to his barn office door. 
As an afterthought, he blew the dust off the cock angled
giant sized "Warning, extreme fire risk. No smoking." sign 
that was in bilingual english and spanish anchored 
on the wall, and straightened it out on its nail. Smiling,
Dusty polished it to a high shine with his black twill  
jacket's sleeve.

He went inside to the silty desk to call Swale's owners 
with a less than glowing report on the horse's condition. 

What Dusty did not know, was that Jose' had 
circumvented any further crooked race deception 
by his desperate plea for help to a certain, very special,
horse loving, firefighter paramedic. 

--------------------------------------------------------

"Nope.."

"Oh come on, Cap!" Johnny insisted. "Just look at
Swale's pedigree! Walter Farley shoved a racing form
into my back pocket while we were loading Jose'
up and now I got all his juicy statistics right here.." he
said, drawing out a sandy white booklet of the
daily races from where he had shoved it in his
belt. "Son to Native Dancer, full brother to Citation
himself.. Man, when Swale gets his wind back enough 
to run ten furlongs again, ..we'll all be RICH !"

Hank Stanley ignored his paramedic's tirade and
instead took offense at the fine track dirt festooning
the floor and table top near him. "Gage, I said no. Now
go grab a towel and a broom and go clean this up!"
he said shoving back in his kitchen chair and away  
from all reminders of their morning rescue call. 
Hank's agitated hands continued to pet Henry the 
hound dog's back harder and harder absently, until 
a loud moan of protest floated up from the lazy form 
sprawled across Cap's lap. "Sorry, Henry. My supposedly 
polished firefighting men are being bonifide twits again. 
You know how that irritates the snot outta me...
Gage, about Swale; that's IF he gets his wind back, not
when. To me, that colt looked pretty much three of four
hooves boots up into a grave this morning."

"Kelly and Stoker reversed that, Cap, with their wash
down. He came outta heatstroke just like that.."
and Gage snapped his fingers in the air derisively.

"I don't care. Once a horse does down like that, 
that trainer, what's his name again? Ah, yes, 
Walter Farley, told me it's five times harder to get 
him back up onto his feet and into racing condition 
again!" Hank countered with a slap of his hand 
on the table. "Count me OUT. Beside, I'm NOT a horse 
racing fan. Didn't you catch onto any of my attitude
towards that this morning, pally?"

Johnny sputtered ineffectual arguments.

Chet smiled and bit his lip in predatory fashion as
Johnny Gage clammed up and did what his captain
told him to do. But kernels of Johnny's sales pitch
had already sprouted under his irish skin and he 
said. "Cap.. I really think this is an opportunity of a 
life time. Even for me. And you know how picky I
can get about taking on weird deals."

"This is not a weird deal.." Johnny glared at him
through pursed lips.

"Sure it is.." Marco Lopez piped up. "I mean,
just how many firehouses do you know of who get
themselves reined into buying a broken down racehorse.."

"He's not broken down.." Johnny hissed at
Lopez. "He's still got four good legs on him."

"Yeah? You're forgetting one tiny detail there, Gage."
Cap said levelly firm with a finger pointing right
at his man's nose.  "Add THIS fact to his excellent 
boneleg status. Swale's got one very, very sun 
cooked BRAIN!" Cap said, drawing crazy circles 
around his ear for emphasis. He rose to his feet, 
shoving away the track racing form. "This is the 
end of this particular discussion with me!  Come on, 
Henry.. Let's  go hide in the recliner to get away from 
these kookheads.. "

Then he took a breath.

"You know.. I should order ya ALL to Rampart for
a checkup. Looks like Swale's not the only one
who got in a little too much sun today."

Cap hefted up the ample Henry into his arms
and stood above the recliner where Mike Stoker
was reading behind a newspaper. Cap cleared his
throat and Stoker looked absently looked up
to see who it was. He hastily vacated the coveted 
spot in a pico when he saw Cap's expression.

Hank settled in and snatched the section Stoker
had been reading for good measure, too. Cap
draped Henry onto his lap for maximum comfort
and prompted buried himself into the sports page.

Mike Stoker thought about getting his paper back
but decided that superior rank ruled. He sighed 
and took up his usual place at the kitchen table.

Despite things, ten minutes later, Gage had everyone's 
signature on the stay of execution papers for Swale, except
Roy's and Cap's. ::I'm just going to haveta work
on those two. Until then, Swale can stay at my place.
Just as soon as the vet clears him for travel.::
Johnny thought to himself with a pleased thrill.

---------------------------------------------------

Brent Brackett and his wife Anna Rose found
their son, Kel Brackett, lurking in the nurse's 
coffee lounge.

Dixie McCall was with him, and Doctor Morton.
And they were going over Mary Kenner's 
private medical case. 

The older Bracketts barged in, infected with
a healthy case of co-worker etiquette blindness, 
which abruptly interrupted their confidential 
conversation.

"Oh, there you are, my dear.." Anna Rose said
to Dixie, bending down to leave a kiss
on the mortified head nurse's cheek. "I hope you 
haven't forgotten the important role that Brent 
and I imparted to you.."

Dixie's fake smile locked in stone. "How could
I, Anna Rose? I assure you, I've been thinking 
about it every second.." she answered truthfully.

"That's good. I'll give you a call you at home tonight for
your idea run downs. Kel gave me your number."

Dixie's withering look at Kel  made the younger 
Brackett hold up his hands in defense.

Brent spoke on another matter, now that his wife's
concerns had been voiced first. " Kel, I found your
rescue base station out there in the hall simply
astounding! I must learn more about your emergency 
department. That's, uh. If Dixie allows me. I can't believe 
I've been working here for six years without 
knowing how it all works." he said incredulously.

Kel cracked a smile. "I'm sure that my best intern,
Mike Morton, here would be more than happy to
take you on clinical tours, dad, today and all
through the next week."

Morton choked on his donut he had been
eating with gusto. Dixie slapped him on the back
to get him over it before things got out of hand.

"You all right there, Mike?" Kel said.

"Yeah, *cough* I'm fine, just.. fine. Thanks, Dix."
Mike Morton took the napkin he had used and
crumpled it up onto his paper plate. "Look uh, 
Kel, are you sure that Joe Early wouldn't make 
a better tour guide for your parents? I mean he's 
got far more experience than little ol m--"

Kel shook his head slowly. "Speaking of
experience, this will just be another aspect
of medicine for you to learn about by catering to
local dignitaries." he quipped to the delight of
his mother.

It was Mike's turn to wear an expression that
didn't match his current emotional status and
Dixie felt immediate sympathy for Morton now
that he was joining her in misery. She poured him
an extra full coffee cup to fortify him.
"I'll cover the nursing angles." then she said
under her breath so only Mike could hear.
"That way it'll all go that much faster.." she said 
from the corner of her mouth.

Mike nodded his gratefulness to both the coffee
and the offer. "Great..we'll get started tomor--"

"This afternoon..." Kel countered with a smile..

"...this afternoon, Mr. and Mrs. Brackett." Morton
amended smoothly without missing a beat. 

To Dixie, Mike cracked the biggest toothiest 
doctor's professional grin that she had ever seen.
::Oh, boy. He's not happy. But, rank has its
privileges. :: she said scratching an itch on her head.
She cast a dangerous calculating eye on her best friend. 
:: You know, I think I'll go to medical school after this, 
just to become a doctor so Kel won't be able to pull 
one over on me or my staff anymore.::

To Dixie's chagrin, Kel was obvious to her discomforture.

Soon, the elder Bracketts left for a late snack to the 
cafeteria and talk resumed about Mary Kenner,
the woman jockey.

Mike said. "Her ABG levels in that hand are
simply perfect, Kel. She came through that
immediate surgery of yours with flying colors."

Kel frowned and shifted in his lounge chair,
sighing. "Yeah, but that's just one of her problems
solved. I'm concerned about her continued
paralysis..."

Mike blinked. "Why? Her x-rays are showing 
clear. There's no fractures anywhere along 
her spine. She doesn't even have disc
misalignment. Seems to me that her paraplegic
deficit might be temporary just due to swelling
from hyperflexing her back when she landed on
top of that track railing. You did tell me Roy found
her hanging there."

Kel answered. "Mike, you know how these things go.
I've seen patients who have whole vertebrae
completely shattered in two, three places who 
eventually get up and walk again. And then there are 
cases like Mary Kenner's..." and he let his comment 
hang in the air.

A feeling of subtle depression filled the room.

A few moments later, Mike's irrepressible optimism 
on things he knew little about gushed out. "The steroidal
treatments will work for her. The anesthesiologist
said he saw a few foot twitches when he was extubating
her. And I believe what he saw."

"Let's hope you're right.." Dixie whispered.

----------------------------------------------

Photo : Dix and Kel Brackett talk over lunch.

Photo : Dusty Schraeder with $$$.

Photo: Guys reading in kitchen.

Photo: Cap's lecture look.

Photo : John making a point in the kitchen.

***********************************  
From: "rampartbase" <doc51@att.net>  
Date: Sat, 15 Mar 2003 04:12:30 -0000 
Subject: [EmergencyTheaterLive] Foiled Again! 
       
 
Dixie finally  gave up and suggested Catalina Island. "That sounds 
like an interesting place." Anna Brackett said. Dix just nodded. "We 
can leave tomorrow. You're such a dear." Anna hugged Dix.

The next day, the trio of Bracketts met at the dock for the 26 mile 
boat ride. They boarded with the rest of the passengers and the boat 
left as scheduled. Somewhere out at sea, the boat ran into trouble. 
One of the engines started smoking.

----------------------------------------

Photo:  None.

*****************************
From : "JOHN ALLEN" <leoseven@msn.com>  
Subject :[EmergencyTheaterLive] Horses, Ferrys and Fire, Oh my!  
Date :Mon, 17 Mar 2003 08:36:53 +0000  
   

This is a tandem post by John Allen <leoseven@msn.com>
and Patti Keiper <pattik1@hotmail.com> via live brainstorming
and mutual research on the web.
  
 
Dusty Schraeder exited his track camper and strode
to the nearby parking lot payphone under the row of
palm trees over looking his horse barn. ::Man, this sure ain't
San Antonio, Texas. Hotter than grits on a griddle today.
I hate Californ-I-A. With a passion.::

He dialed a number, as he slapped on expensive
aftershave. "Artie? It's done. And it looks like
Jose Rivero's on the outlist for three months, too.
You owe me more for that."

Dusty listened as the mafia man's voice
warbled in his ear for a moment. "No, man. I'm
through. There's enough police sniffing around my operation
as it is..You want another horse killed do it yourself.
I've got a boat to catch this afternoon."  And he slammed
down the phone receiver in irritation. "I hate Italians.
They should stick to drinking bad wine and twirling pasta
on their spoons!"

------------------------------------------------------

Kel Brackett and Anna Rose stood by the railing of 
the Windjammer Ferry bound for Catalina Island.

"Oh, Kel. Remind me to thank Dixie for this.
I don't think we've been to this island all
the time you were growing up." Anna Rose
sighed, breathing in the rich salt tanged air
ruffling her auburn hair.

Kel and Brent exchanged a look of confidential
tolerance at Mrs. Brackett, intensely glad that
a destination for their vacation had finally
taken shape.

Brent drew both Kel and Anna Rose under
both arms in an uncharacteristic show of 
guarded affection, and said. "I'm glad we can get 
together for this. Glad that d*mned snowstorm 
changed our minds.. I could get used to trips
like this.."

Kel smiled. "Dix has a knack for landing 
ANYone on their feet."

"Even us?" Brent quipped.

"Apparently, even us."

Anna Rose beamed at Brent and Kel
widely and said. "Let's go get some
champagne to celebrate. Shall we?"

"Celebrate what, mom?" Kel
asked wrapping her sky blue sweater
more tightly around her to stave off
the brisk seabreeze coming from the south.
She could just see the wild beach of
the graceful desert island less than
a quarter mile away from them.

"You have to ask? Isn't it obvious?"
Anna Rose asked in return peering up
at her taller son.

Brent chuckled deep in his throat and
adjusted his white golfer's hat more
firmly onto his head. "Anna Rose, leave off. 
Kelly's here to unwind. No surgical wards, 
no Dixie to come calling with medical matters,
no Rampart. He's finally on foreign territory
for the first time in years. In more ways than 
one."

Kel grunted, but deigned to comment.
He sighed grandly and said. "I sure am.
But I'm sure glad I'm here. Listen, hang around 
for a few minutes. I'm going to go get 
those drinks for us. Be right back.."

Anna Rose and Brent Brackett watched him
bound up the deck stairway to the 
upper level and the open air bar above, with
a new energy she had never noticed before.

Seabirds fluttered down over their heads
and glowed in the azure sky, only increasing
the Bracketts sense of contentment and peace.

But then, Anna Rose's nose crinkled suddenly in
distain. "Dearest, do you smell that?"

"Smell what?"

-----------------------------------------


On the Windjammer's bridge, the captain's
internal phone rang.

"This is the Bridge.."

##Sir.. we have a problem...##

"Specify.."

The engineer below decks coughed once
and lifted the receiver from his mouth and
shouted. "Get more coolant on that port
turbine! She's still running too hot!!" then
he thought angrily. The ferry engineer saved a few
choice mental words for the Santa Anita 
track trainer and entrepreneur and spit
sharply onto the metal grating beneath his 
feet. :: D*mn Dusty Schraeder for cutting 
our budget spending on transport servicing. 
Shoulda hauled her up to dry dock months ago 
for a complete overhaul. When I get to shore 
again, I'm gonna...::  

BOOM!!

The Windjammer shuddered as the sudden engine 
explosion beneath her passenger crowded decks 
shifted in massive concussion.

The Captain on the bridge shouted. "Mr.
Margolin! Get down there and see how
badly we've been damaged!"

"Aye, sir.." said the ferry's first officer, and
he gestured to two fellow officers to follow
him down below decks to the engine room.

The ferry captain's right hand nestled onto 
a little used switch on his natical tactical board
and he pulled it. The universal mariner's
distress call.

 ------------------------------------

Kel was sent sprawling off his bar stool
where he sat waiting for his order
of champagne for three.

He was thrown with terrific force into
the deck plating and the impact made him bite
his tongue badly. In wracking pain and bleeding
copiously from his mouth, Dr. Brackett lifted 
his head as he saw smoke billowing from the rear 
end of the ferry. A careless wind sent a cloud of 
suffocating bad air into the bar deck, and visibility 
shrank down to nil in seconds. "Everybody, drop 
down on the deck! There's clear air down here!"
::Mom, dad. Oh, be safe..:: he thought.

Kel helped one shaken young woman, dazed
from where her head had impacted a
fallen table, to her feet and together, they
fled towards the direction of the stairs they
could barely see and back into daylight.
::What the h*ll happened down there?::

In the murk he spied a big Texan man, lolling
on the deck, semi conscious, with a black cowboy hat  
covering his face. "Hey, mister! You ok?" Kel asked 
the fallen man, shoving the crushed hat away.
He could see a large bruise on his head.
::Might be a concussion.:: he reasoned.

Dusty Schraeder moaned and opened his eyes
under Kel's ministrations. "Oww.. *cough* what 
in tarnation is going on?!"

"There's been an explosion below decks. We gotta
get outta here. This smoke's getting thicker." Dr. 
Brackett said. "I'm a doctor and there may
be more injured people outside. Can you stand?"

"Can a racehorse run?" Dusty said.

"Fine. Let's move out." Kel ordered. 
He hefted the southern man to his feet and pointed 
him in the direction to where he knew the stairs were.

-----------------------------------------------

L.A. Dispatcher Sam Lanier coordinated the 
data he was receiving from the Coast Guard
Communications Network and decided a course
of action to handle the bounding casualty estimates
streaming through his terminal from the Harbor
Master on Duty. Then he toggled out the tones.
A long string of call signs and finally the fire disaster
LCR's rang out across the county's telecom relay
system and into the firehouses linked to it.
## Station 110, Waterboat 245, Battalion 14,
Coast Guard 9, Helicopter 8, Station 51, Marina
Cutter 27, Lifeguard 16. Ferry fire. One mile off Catalina 
Island. All fire units respond to LAX heliport. Time 
out, 11: 45.## 

Cap sidled out from under Henry and shot to his feet.
"Let's go. Move it out.."

"Sounds like a bad one.." Chet mumbled as he
ran to the rig and hurriedly pulled on his turnout
gear. "But why call out the engine, too? Gage and
DeSoto usually get the ocean runs."

" It's a catastrophic all call, Kelly. Remember those tones.
This must be a grade four multiple casualty for us to respond 
as well." Cap said, climbing aboard the Ward. Stoker and 
the others filed into place and soon, the station rolled out.

On the way, Johnny cut the tension by talking of
other matters. "Hey, Roy, guess what?"

Roy, deep into watching traffic as they sped towards
the airport, barely afforded Gage a glance as
he grunted, "Hmm?"

"Wanna play altruistic and kill two birds with one stone?"

"Whatdiya mean?" Roy said, gripping the steering wheel
and speaking loudly over the wailing siren above
their heads.

Johnny tightened the strap on his helmet and smiled.
"Well, first thing. We go ahead and buy Swale. 
You heard Crockett. I just may have agreed to a 
verbal shift of ownership with Jose Rivero the jockey.."

"What do you mean we?" Roy said frankly. "I wasn't
in on that little deal you two struck up, now was I?
Washing my hands clean of that so you can just forget
it. Joanne would never forgive me if I tapped into
what little savings we have."

"Roy, just forget about that for a sec, you're forgetting
we still have impressive collateral right at our fingertips.."
he grinned.

"Where?"

"In that old engine we have fading in the sun out back.
Kind of a shame we never found Mr. Kerner the buyer
that day. Here's our opportunity to do a good deed
with it."

Roy's face started to smile even as the squad rounded
into the gateway being opened for their vehicles onto
the airport tarmack by LAX security. "What, then? You
and Mr. Farley go into the stud business?"

"No man, nothing so selfish. I wish you'd just think for
once. I'm talking about that young gal we worked on
at the track. What was her name?"

"Mary Kenner.."

"Yeah, her. It just tears me up that her filly had to be
destroyed. What would you think about us giving her
and Jose Rivero all of Swale's ownership shares?"
Gage asked.

Roy blinked as he pulled up into the space reserved for
fire vehicles along the marine jetty fence line.
"Johnny Gage turning into a bonafide do gooder? 
I can't even begin to imagine that. But.. I have to
admit.. I'm really warming up to the idea.."

"Then sign.." Gage said, thrusting papers out at Roy
that he had folded inside his shirt and shouting
into the violent wind coming from the landing pad
just in front of their bumper.

"We're in the middle of responding to a run here!"
Roy said incredulously, squealing to a halt and jamming
the squad's transmission into park.

"SoOoooo, the faster you sign the faster we can get
out of here.." Gage countered over the roar of
Helicopter 8's rotor wash as he opened the door
and handed out the ownership signup form and his 
green pen out to his partner.

Roy grabbed the sheet, John Hancock-ed it, and
shoved it back inside the squad before closing the
door. "What about Cap's signature?"

"I got his after lunch in the only place where I 
could think of to corner him on equal ground.
In the john.."

"You haven't a shred of human decency, pally, 
you know that?" Roy DeSoto rolled his eyes.

"Probably not. But I get results when I want em."

They had grabbed all the gear into the squad stokes
when another set of hands grabbed one end of
the stretcher in their run towards the helicopter
and the waiting coast guard pilots.

"Detective Crockett.. What are you doing here?"
Roy asked, as he almost dropped the stokes
and the equipment in surprise.

Gage double blinked, too.

Detective Crockett said. "Got word you
fellas were on a run to the Windjammer. I've
an invested interest in that ferry. I've been ordered
to come along."

"Oh, why?" Gage said as he and Roy slipped into
lifevests and headsets in the belly of the coast guard
bird. 

"Do you remember Dusty Shraeder at all? That fine
upstanding gentleman your jockey friend from the track 
was dead set on chewing up and spitting out, despite his 
injuries?" he quipped sarcastically.

"Oh, him.. " Gage said with displeasure, light bulb going 
off. "So that's his name. I remember now. He was kinda 
shady and slimy like, if I recall.."

"In more ways than one. Not only is he dealing with
negligent racehorse fraud, he's dabbling in the
ferry business too. His company was cited for five 
maintenance violations on that boat alone 
this season."

Gage nodded. Then he toggled his headset to the 
pilots. "Helicopter 8, This is Squad 51. We're
aboard. Dave, what do we got?"

" Squad 51, We've a 250 passenger boat bound for 
Catalina. And her captain reports her engine's caught fire.
The first responding Coast Guard cutter reports she's 
already nearly fully involved astern."

"Was she at capacity?" Roy interceded into the radio
frequency through his own radio set.

"No, only to one third according to the Harbor Master."

"Understood." DeSoto said. ::More than enough reason
for the fire engine crews to come along with us..::

Roy glanced down out the window as the Coast Guard
chopper lifted off the landing pad. He could see
Cap, and the rest of the gang piling into Waterboat
245 along with Station 110's crack marine fire team.
::No doubt they'll be joining us on that fire boat for
the secondary assignment once we've handled the 
main evacuation.::

---------------------------------------------

Cap lifted his HT. "Engine 51 to Helicopter 8."

##Go ahead, Engine 51.##

"Our ETA to site is thirty minutes."

## 10-4, 51. ##

Cap grinned and patted each of his men on the
back as they boarded the swift hulled coast guard
cutter. "Time to get your feet wet, boys. "

Chet eyed the big, bobbing red and white boat
suspiciously. "Aw, Cap, do I have to? I just got done
polishing my shoes."

"Get in there.." Cap mock growled, giving Kelly a shove 
across the short plank leading from shore to the 
sleek rescue coast guard Crestliner.

Marco strapped into the life vest a guardsman handed
him and he asked. "Hey, Cap. Just how many 
oceanic runs have you logged in your day? I take
it disaster calls like this aren't common."

"You're right. I've only seen three. This is my third. Just 
consider it a four alarm, gang. The only difference is that
any firefighting will be completely on a horizontal 
plane instead of a vertical one and the hosework will be trickier 
because the waves will be shifting us up and down on the
boat's deck. We're only going to be cover for 110's 
marine firemen. Remember that. Do whatever 
they ask of you in full support."

"Right, Cap."

Soon, Waterboat 245, loaded with 110 and 51's
firemen, sped out to sea after the disappearing
Chopper 8.

------------------------------------------------------

Kel Brackett helped Dusty Schraeder out to open air 
and he shouted to the panicking, singed people around
him, handing out lifevests from inside the railing benches, 
when he saw the ferry's employees doing the same.
"Everybody, get set to jump overboard! The beach is 
right there.."

Casting his eyes around the milling crowd, Kel fought
through them as best he could, spitting out the blood
in his mouth while he searched for any sign of either of his 
parents while he put on a life vest and found three
others.

"You rest there.. I'll be back for you.." Kel gasped through
the smoke at Dusty, whom he parked onto a deck chair
reluctantly. Giving the dazed man another glance, Dr.
Brackett fought his instincts to stay and help the 
injured around him and he forced himself to listen to 
the new ones of panic he felt growing inside of
him about his family.

"Mom!  Dad!! Can you hear me?!"

A thick oily curtain of burning haze swept over 
the deck and felled seven in a suffocating grip.

Kel stumbled, choking on the stench in his
throat and he crawled over to the nearest
body and pulled it to the windward side
of the deck by feel alone.

On the fourth trip with a victim, his seeking 
hand found his father, unconscious and face
down. "Dad..!!"  His fingers found that
he had a pulse and that he was still breathing. 
Immediately Kel's head shot up. 
::She would never leave his side like this..:: 
"Mom!"

"Kel?" she gasped from very nearby.

"Over here.." he coughed. "Put this on.."
he handed Anna Rose one of the three life
vests he still had with him and quickly tied
one around his father. 

He dragged Brent over to where he could hear
the ferry personnel helping people into the water
for the desperate swim to the wave dashed 
shoreline of Catalina Island.

He snapped out an order. "Don't send a swimmer
with this man until I get back.." he ordered one 
lieutenant, pointing down to his father. "I am going 
to go get a victim with a head injury. Then we'll
leave."

Kel took a breath of the relatively clean air
by the railing on the island side of the burning
ferry and turned to go back to Dusty Schraeder
whom he had left behind. 

Anna Rose stopped him. "No, Kel. Don't leave
us! You'll never make it out again.." she sobbed.

"I'll be fine. He's not that far away." Dr. Brackett 
said as he looked up and saw the fast approaching outline 
of a coast guard cutter making a rapid headway 
from the island's small resort jetty over to
their ferry. "Just stay with dad."

 Kel disappeared, crawling back into the
dark smoke of the inner deck.

-------------------------------------------------

Roy and Johnny couldn't see the ferry.
Just a column of black greasy smoke
coming from the wounded boat almost
hugging the shoreline. Roy thought,
::The engineer's must have shifted the
rudders to allow her to drift towards shore.
Smart thinking.::

Then John saw startling colored dots floating
in the water. He tapped his partner 
on the shoulder. "Roy, they're already 
abandoning ship!"

Roy spoke calmly into his radio headset. 
"Most look ok. I'm just concerned about the 
ones who are hurt and not able to swim 
away from that boat.."

Gage didn't say anything more and both
paramedics and Detective Crockett 
were silenced by the horrifying drama
unfolding like a silent movie, before them.

##Squad 51, we are touching down. You
are to disembark with your equipment
and report to Cutter 27 docked starboard
on the jetty for your rendevous to the 
Windjammer. ##

"10-4, Chopper Eight."

The massive Coast Guard helicopter hovered
only inches from the rough stoney pier
that was already jammed with newly responding
fireboats taking in sea water into their bilges to 
combat the ferry's burgeoning fire.

Two minutes later, Roy and Johnny were
fast footing it with the gear laden stokes
between them down the rocky pier
towards the landing set aside for Coast
Guard's slips at the very end. Crockett had
donned a coastguard jumpsuit, complete
with his fire arm, and was running close
after them.

Johnny could see two vessels were waiting and 
idling with their prows aimed seaward. 

Gage immediately turned for the 
sixty foot fireboat. A shout stopped
him. "51. Over here.." came a voice.

Roy and Johnny turned. A guardsman
on an eighteen foot red painted outboard
was gesturing for them to come
over to him. 

Gage's eyes got real big. "Oh, man.. Roy..
We're going on THAT thing?"

Roy cracked a grin. "Still don't trust yourself
from the last time out at sea?"

"Hardly."

"Well, you might not get seasick this time,
pally. There'll be no masts for us to climb."
Ferrys don't have any." Roy said.

"Hope you're right.." Johnny groaned.

Soon, DeSoto and Gage were heading out
in the speedy outboard towards the column 
of rising soot marking the place of the 
sea ferry's self consuming fire.

------------------------------------------------

Kelly Brackett found the large Texan 
coughing on the deck chair. "Mister..
Let's go. I've got a life vest here for you.
Easy.." he said as he flung one of the 
groggy man's arms over his shoulder
to help him gain his feet. "This way.."

The wind shifted mercifully, showing the doctor
that the Windjammer's decks were now empty 
of people except for a few near the gap in the 
railing where his father lay. 

Dr. Brackett and Dusty Schraeder had 
covered half the distance to the opening
in the railing when the Windjammer's fuel
tanks compromised.

A great force lifted both men up and
flung them outwards from the main
bulk of the boat as a massive exploding
fireball signalled the beginning of the
end for the hull breached ferry.

The Windjammer listed twenty degrees
to her side, towards land, and Dusty and 
Kel Brackett slid struggling, across the oily 
deck, each partially stunned by the blast. 

Rushing towards the ferry, Roy and
John and Crockett winced as the
Windjammer blew herself apart.

On the front of the flying debris,
a body was hurtled into the sea.

"Move it move it!! To portside.
Ten o'clock!! Someone just landed
in the water!! " Gage shouted.

Cutter 27 knifed through the waves
to where the paramedics had last
seen the man go down. 

The boat circled the area once,and
the impact rings were fast fading in the
ocean's regular toss and turn.

"Where is he?!" Roy shouted.

"There. There. Right there!" Crockett
said, pointing suddenly to the left.

Gage and DeSoto jumped feet first into
the water from the cutter with
the empty stokes. They swam
rapidly to the slowly sinking man
and hauled his face out of the water.

They struggled to pull their victim
into the stokes long enough for the
rescue boat to come forward for 
a pickup. Crockett and the guardsmen
had only just hauled the sodden man
aboard and had rolled him over when
the detective exclaimed. "Schraeder!!"

Gage, regained his footing on the
boat's rear loading platform, was
helped on board. "Who?"

A low moan came from the cut
riddled Texan in the stokes as Roy
bent down to check the injured 
man's mental status.

"It's Dusty Schraeder from the 
horse track. My team and I got
enough evidence to arrest this guy
this morning on charges of animal
cruelty and reckless endangerment."
Crockett said.

"THIS is the guy our jockey was so
keen on taking out?" Gage asked.

"Yeah.. Walter Farley tipped us off
on his Lasix misusage and led us
to some eyewitnesses who saw
exactly what Dusty and a groom named
Manuel did to Charismatic, the colt
that caused the pileup. A little dumpster
diving found the missing unused 
Lasix syringes they had been throwing away
and their barn's ID serial number was
labelled all over them."

"Means and motive.." Roy sighed.
"He's ok, Johnny. A bump on 
the head and no signs of aspiration."
DeSoto said, lifting his stethoscope
from the man's chest.

"I'll get him on some O2."

Right then, Dusty Schraeder groaned and
started stirring. He awoke to a grinning
Crockett's face. "Whaa? What are you
doing here? Didn't you get enough of me
investigating my horse barn?" the angry
man asked of the detective.

"More than enough. You're under arrest,
Mr. Schraeder.." and he slapped on 
handcuffs around Dusty's wrists. "I'll say,
your racing days are over.."

Dusty Schraeder promptly passed out.

 
Johnny happened to glance up back then
to a commotion from the Windjammer.

Anna Rose Brackett and a ferry worker was
crouched over a soot stained figure lying
on the deck. "Johnny ! Roy! Over
here.. My husband and son! They're 
hurt!"

The cutter crew swiftly darted the 
remaining distance to the gutted
Windjammer whose fire had blown
itself mostly out. Roy and Gage quickly
accepted pulling hands to come on board
and their gear quickly followed.

Roy knelt by Kel Brackett and began
to check him out even as Gage did
the same thing for the unconscious
Brent Brackett.

Johnny glanced up at Anna Rose.
"You ok, Mrs. Brackett?"

"Y- Yes.. The guardsman shoved
me down and the explosion went over
our heads. H-how are they?"

Roy spoke up. "I've got a good 
carotid."

"Same over here." Johnny said,
bending down to check Brent's
pupils for reaction time. "So far so
good."

Right then, Brent and Kel both groaned
and started to awaken.

"Easy, doc.." Gage said. "Docs.." he
amended with a grin. "Just lie still,
both of ya, and let Roy and I 
check ya out."

Kel Brackett winced and rolled over
to spit out the blood pooling in his mouth.
"What about the fire..?"

Gage turned and glanced over his
shoulder. "That last explosion sure did 
a little number. Blew out the fire and exposed 
a wanted criminal to the local authorities as well." 
Johnny quipped.

"Huh?" Brent Brackett grunted.

"Never mind. It would take too long to explain 
it to ya." Roy said, getting two cannulas of
02 set for their patients. "But I can tell ya
that it's all for the good."

"Doc.. you feeling better?" John asked
when he realized Dr. Brackett had an actively
bleeding tongue.

"I will be. Just get me off this smoking hulk.
I've had enough of vacations to last me
a lifetime.." he sighed.

"Just don't swallow any of that."

"Don't I know it.." 

"Do I need to get your permission to treat 
you an--"

"Don't ask. Just do."

"Right."

Waterboat 245 with the high pressured
water cannons, and the rest of Station 51 
and Station 110, soon arrived to board 
Windjammer along with a ferry to take
the beach survivors back to the mainland.

Cap and Chet strode over to where Roy and
Johnny were setting up IVs on Brent, Kel
and Dusty in prep for Chopper Eight's multiple
airlift maneuver for their transport.

The captain of 110's stepped forward and started
barking orders. "Let's get these casualties
stabilized ASAP. I want everyone off deck in
ten minutes! Station 51, go below and check
for petroleum leaks. Last thing we need
is an ecological catastrophe on top of 
everything else."

Hank Stanley, Chet, Marco, and Mike Stoker
all hurried with him to quickly check out
the damage left behind from the explosion
snuffed fire.

-----------------------------------------

 
Kel Brackett, Brent Brackett
Jose Rivero and Mary Kenner were all
sharing a room at Rampart because of
limited space arrangements that were 
currently in effect.  Only a curtain 
separated jockeys from doctors.

Johnny Gage, Roy DeSoto and Walter
Farley were visiting the jockey side.

Johnny was beaming ear to ear, as 
was his quiet partner, when Walter Farley
gently took Mary Kenner's hand. "Mary.
How are ya doing. You awake? Some friends
of mine are here to see you on a matter of
business.."

"Mr. Farley?" she said, opening her eyes. 
"You came.. Jose and I didn't think you'd be able 
to come today because of the stakes races going on." 
she said.  Then she recognized Roy. "Mr. DeSoto.
I've some good news for you. The doctors are
saying that I will walk again. It's going to take some
time and a lot of therapy, they tell me. But I'm more
than up for the challenge."

"Well, that's good Miss Kenner, because the guys
and I have another challenge for you to work on."
Roy said to her, smiling.

Walter Farley stepped forward and pulled the bundle
of leather he had been hiding behind his back.

For a moment Mary's face twisted with the 
memory of her filly going down the day of
her accident. But then her eyes fell on the brass
name plate on the bridle's cheek strap.
"Oh, my g*d. This says Swale? Mr. Farley..
what is this?"

Johnny said, "Well, Jose came up with the plan
and the rest of us guys at the station house made
it possible with ...well, a small donation up front...
for this.." and he stepped forward to hand over
Swale's signed and delivered ownership papers
and pedigree.
Again Mary's eyes fell on the short list of names 
of the colt's sole shareholders. She read them
aloud. "Titled owners of Swale. 2 year old. Bay
colt are hereby declared as Mary Kenner of 
Anaheim and Jose Rivero of Independence City
in the state of California, United States of--"

Her voice cracked when she realized the implications
of what she was reading. "You didn't.."

"We sure did Miss, Kenner. " Walter Farley grinned
along with the two paramedics flanking him.
"Swale now belongs to a jockey team of two. 
Utterly. Including all future stud rights and purse 
winnings from here on out."

Mary's eyes filled with tears and she regarded
the sleeping Jose on the bed next to her
briefly in thought. " We can't accept him.. I..
well, Jose and I can't afford to keep a racehorse.
We don't have the facilities off track."

Walter Farley spoke up. "Not necessarily true
young lady. You see, The Dusty Schraeder 
Racing Stables have declared bankruptcy due to
extenuating circumstances. Heh. heh heh. The 
track now has fifteen stalls set aside for
me to fill. And Swale.. now has one of them."

"Oh, Mr. Farley.." she sobbed. "I'm sure if
Jose were awake right now. He'd also thank you
from the bottom of his heart.  And I thank
you firefighters, too, for everything."

"Our pleasure ma'am.." Roy said quietly.
"Well, we'd better be going. Take care and send
us a post card once in a while from the racing
circuit."

"I will.." she promised.

-------------------------------------------------
Anna Rose sat at the foot of Brent Brackett's
bed and held his hand. "Brent, now you know
you and Kel still have plenty of vacation time
accrued. I've been thinking about this alot.
Now I've talked with a very nice young man named
Morton downstairs and he swears up and down about
spending a week in Hawaii..On Maui to be exact. 
Now, what do you say?"

Brent grunted and chuckled, holding a pillow over 
his aches. "I've seen enough islands to last me
until I'm ninety, Anna Rose. And I'm sure our
only son agrees with me."

"I concur most wholeheartedly, dad. How about
another six years of us just working, straight through."

"Sounds just peachy.." Brent smiled.

Anna Rose's face fell in complete and utter dismay.
"Oh, now that's not fair. That solves your needs.
What about mine?"

"Well, you can always go to school to become
a nurse and then come work with us.." Kel quipped.

"Oh, you.. Dixie would never agree to that.. 
and you know it."

Right then, Dixie walked in the door with the
medications for everyone in the room.
"I'd never agree to what, Anna Rose..?"

"Oh,.. uh,, nothing.." she said.

-----------------------------------------------

In the squad, returning to base, Roy
and Johnny Gage had reason to smile.
Gage stretched languidly in his seat and
said. "I feel really good about what happened to
us over the past two weeks, don't you?"

"I know what you mean. What we did was
a really noble thing I think. Saved : One horse
and two careers. Nice totals, Johnny."

"Yeah, " Gage smirked. "So, did you learn your
lesson about betting on the horses?"

"How do you mean?" DeSoto said, turning into the
station's drive. The garage door opened to reveal
that the engine had gone on a run.

"Roy, how can you be so blind?" Gage said
in exasperation. "Horse racing is all a matter of 
integrity, right across the board. It's not a game. 
Never was."

Roy studied the steering wheel and the sunlight
dappling there. "I suppose you're right, Johnny. 
I-I do feel kinda different about it all now."

"Good going, I'm proud of ya, Junior."

Roy's face split into a gentle grin and
he shyly glanced at Gage. "If you say so, pally.. 
Come on, let's hurry. Maybe Cap and the others 
left our hamburgers in the oven. I'm starved."

"Oh yeah, that reminds me.. Did we remember
to get more dog food for Henry?"Johnny asked.

"Yeah, and you can count on this fact. It's not 
horsemeat."

             
                       FIN       :)

-----------------------------------------
 
    :)     This Episode is dedicated to those who go out of
            their way to insure the humane treatment of
            Racehorses who are trained daily, to run for the 
            Thoroughbred  Racing Circuit nation wide. May they 
            all retire alive and well. (Horses, dedicated trainers 
     :)    and grooms, alike.)                                                 :)                                                                                


@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@ 

  
The Story Unfolds...

Season One, Episode Six..  

The Golden Horn

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

From : Jeff Seltun <finiterider@yahoo.com
Subject : Morning Misery
Date : :  Sat Mar 22, 2003  10:02 pm

Johnny Gage jolted in bed with a groan as the wakeup tones
shattered his sleep, filling the bunkroom with its frequency tones.
"L.A. testing with stations 127, 36, 110, 8 and 51."

Hank Stanley rolled out from under his sheets to
the bedside radio mounted near his head. "L.A., Station
51.  You're clear, KMG 365." he mumbled and sniffed
and coughed as he hung the mike back up on its
spigot. "Gage, Kelly tells me it's your turn to cook 
breakfast this morning."

"Aw, Cap. We just got back." Gage said. "Besides,
Chet never honors his bets anyway, so why should I? 
I'm gonna just ...catch a few winks so I....I..." and 
his voice trailed off as sleepiness made him drift again 
from where he slumped in tangled sheets on his stomach.

A ballistic pillow nailed Gage on the back of the head. 

"Ow!" and Johnny shot up onto his butt glaring
about him for the one whose bed was now pillowless.
"Whoever threw that's dead meat.." he growled.

" Get up! A deal's a deal." Chet groused. "That sounded 
like a definite Cap order to me." he countered. Then he
peeped. "Right, Cap?"

Hank just glared at Kelly and pointed. "Move it, Kelly.
You may not be putting the chow on, but the coffee 
pot's calling out your name big time. I wanna smell
coffee brewing in fifteen seconds or the hose tower's
gonna be your second home for a week. 15, 14,...10"
he accelerated, "9,..  8 !!..."

Chet muffled any further retort wisely and scrambled
into boots and was gone before his sheets settled.

From where he lay face down on his bed, Roy
chuckled. "G*d, I love waking up in the morning here.
Kinda puts the world in perspective...."

"Oh, would you just shut up?" Johnny snapped, sitting
up with his legs dangling over the bed, not yet having
the mental faculty to succeed in getting into his 
pullover boots and trousers.

Hank's stenorous voice boomed out. "As for you, Gage, 
there's a mop just aching for latrine duty if I don't see 
you making tracks to the stove in five.."

The effect was miraculous. Johnny went from grumpy
sleeper to rabbit quick in a pico. 

Roy blinked in surprise when he only saw the door swing 
following his partner's sudden departure. He quirked a grin.
"Cap, some day you outta teach me that trick of yours 
that inspires such gut fearing reaction in the guys. Maybe 
then I can use it on Johnny whenever he gets outta line 
about some crazy scheme of his."

"Sorry, that's a trade secret.."

"Too bad."  Roy studied his watch closely and nodded
when the aroma of fresh coffee wafted into the bunkroom.
"That's thirteen seconds, Cap. A record. Looks like Chet 
won't have hose tower duty today."

"Fine. Marco, that'll be your morning assignment."

"Hey! That's not fair.. I didn't do anything.." Lopez
protested.

"Precisely my point, Lopez. It's a Cap's duty to keep his 
men from getting too bored between runs, by handing 
out active and fulfilling job duties." Hank said with a smile
rubbing pleased palms together.

"I'm thrilled.." Marco said sarcastically, barely a whisper, 
disguising his retort as a cough.

"Or,..would you rather a little latrine time instead so you
can stay out of the fierce summer sun..?"

Marco's face flopped open in instant fear. "The tower's perfect,
Cap. I could use a workout. At that last fire of ours,
I only ran up fifty flights of steps. What's a few more?"

"Good man. DeSoto, it's up to you and Stoker to arm wrestle
duke it out to decide who gets the chrome or the can. I'm done 
making decisions until after lunch." And Cap strolled out of the 
bunk room.

Stoker and Roy exchanged brief looks of surprise. Then they 
began eyeing each other up. Stoker cracked his knuckles with 
a feral grin.

-----------------------------------------------------------

Roy wandered into the kitchen cradling his arm and 
shaking it out to work the kinks out of it.

"What's wrong with you?" Johnny asked Roy, sliding a pan
full of scrambled eggs onto pot holders in front of the
six table settings he had laid out.

"Nothing.."

Mike Stoker entered the kitchen and quietly took his
place at the kitchen table and sat with a significant 
cough, pleased as punch.

Gage looked from Roy's self conscious face to Mike's
smug one but wasn't in the least bit clued in. 

Mike piped up. "He lost."

"Lost what?" Johnny asked.

"Never mind.." DeSoto said defensively.

Cap, sitting and biting into a cinnamon roll, grinned as
all get out. 

Chet finally put two and two together. "Don't be dense,
Gage. Stoker was just the better man in a wrestle, that's 
all." he smirked. "Well, well, well... Looks like the guy who 
never pulls toilet duty's finally been had." he teased.

"You're kidding.." Johnny said, forgetting that he
was pouring Roy's coffee. He caught himself before
the spill got over the table's edge dangerously,
and into his partner's lap.

Roy's mute look said it all as he watched Johnny hastily
intercept the scalding coffee with an agile towel.

Gage began to laugh to beat the band as he sat also
to wolf down breakfast. "How could ya lose, Roy? 
You must be a third bigger than Stoker is."

"Who's been doing more CPR lately?" Roy bemoaned.

Johnny gave a short nod, quite frank. "Stoker."
and he laughed uproariously.

Roy glared at him with his usual unblinking frown.

Gage moused down under the scrutiny immediately.

Sounds of aggressive eating filled the air with slurps
and silverware chinks and china dings until breakfast
was a thing of history. Then Cap leaned back and said.
"First thing after all the chores are done.." and he
tossed a slate full of unorganized run logs and fire calls
with an echoing bang, onto the table.

The packet clipped into place was nearly half an inch thick.

All the gang's faces slacked open.

"Uh, what's this, Cap?" Johnny finally asked.

"What's it look like? They're our run sheets from last
month. A new procedure's been drafted. Each company
shift's now responsible for tidying up the log book, and
making neat copies of each incident, in triplicate, for the
final send to headquarters."

Dead silence met Hank's ears.

Then Kelly cleared his throat. "Uh, Cap. There must be
some kinda mistake here. You see, we're firemen, not
secretaries. Besides, doing all those would take us all
hours, if not days to do. I'll just bet not one of us types
better than twenty words a minute."

"Tough." came Cap's easy reply. "I can't help it if that's
a secondary skill you men have chosen not to develop.
It's a requirement in the captaincy. Work it out. You have
three days to get this mess into some semblance of order."

"But isn't that the Cap's duty to record into the official
log book?"

"Not anymore. For once, McConnike's finally laid the
groundwork for something I actually agree on.. It's about
time the paperwork duties are shared as equally as
the chores around here.."

No one voiced the thought every man was thinking, about
Cap never getting latrine or mop duty.

Johnny slumped, pushing away his half empty plate with a 
sigh and he buried his face into a hand as he regarded the
fat slate before him.

Cap asked. "What's the matter, Johnny? Don't like your
own cooking?"

"All the sudden, I'm not very hungry."

"Eat. Then type. And that's an order..." Hank said.
"I got the dishes." he commented, getting up and
clearing all the plates into a stack, one by one, except
the meal in front of Johnny. "Then I'll be right with
ya all, straightening out that g*d awful mess there." he
said pointing to the pile of bundled run sheets.  
"I planned ahead and got five typewriters ordered from 
HQ."

The doorbell rang. 

Cap lifted his head. "And that's most likely the courier
delivering them right now. Stoker, go answer that."

Mike moved.

"Chop, chop the rest of you. The faster we clear the 
table, the faster we can get started.." Cap said.

------------------------------------------------

Mike Stoker opened the rear door from the yard and 
hastily got out of the way as a handtruck, laden with
five heavy boxes, barrelled into the station. "Oops,
sorry, young fella. Sorry to be hurrying, but I got ten
deliveries to make by noon." the UPS man said.

He wheeled the station's new typewriters into the
garage and unloaded them against the wall. Then
he leaned on the door frame, dragged out a hanky
and wiped his red face. "Man,  what a scorcher today.
Whooweee.." he gasped, enjoying the cool air of
the bay. Then he swallowed. "Say, is there any 
chance I can bum a glass of water off ya? I drank
a little too much soda today and I'm parched."

"Let me go get you one.." Mike offered. "Hang on
a minute." Then he took the man's slate pad, "I'll
go take this to Cap to sign."

"Perfect. I'll wait here." the older man sighed.

"Have a seat.." Stoker offered, indicating a bench
behind him.

"Don't mind if I do.."

Stoker went into the kitchen.

He returned with a tall glass of ice water just in
time to see the delivery man sagging down the 
wall. "Hey, DeSoto, Gage!! On the double!"

He caught the flushed man as he fainted and 
lowered him to the floor just as a tremendous
seizure gripped him.
---------------------------

Photo :  Johnny lying in bed.

Photo :  The gang surrounding the table
             eating.

Photo:  Johnny, Roy and Chet in Cap's
            office with armloads of paperwork.

*****************************
From : "Roxy Dee" <laterrapincabesa@hotmail.com>  
Subject : [EmergencyTheaterLive] Whirlwind Help~~  
Date : Sat, 29 Mar 2003 01:52:50 +0000  
  
Roy and John looked up from where they were drying dishes
with Cap.

"Huh?" Johnny gasped.

Everyone in the kitchen ran for the garage in haste. Gage
took one look at the convulsing man and the hard time
Mike was having keeping his airway open and he said
said. "Cap! We gotta move... Marco! Get the gear.."

Johnny and Roy fell onto their knees by Stoker as they 
both reached for the fallen man. "Stoker?" Roy asked
while he felt the man's pulse. He only briefly looked at 
Mike for what he knew. "What happened here? Let's get 
him on his side. Easy.."

The UPS delivery man's eyes were rolled up into his
head and his hitched breathing sounded almost painful as 
he shook.

"He said he was thirsty and very warm. When I got 
back with his water, I found him passing out just as
you see him now. He's been seizing only for half
a minute." Mike replied. Stoker kicked a typewriter box 
out of the way that was a little too near the man's head.

Roy looked at Marco, who had first grabbed the 
resuscitator from the squad's side compartment.

Stoker turned on a high flow of 02 through the
demand valve's mask and began to use it to create 
some fuller breaths for the man in order to turn away 
his mild cyanotic color.

John nodded after his primary assessment. 
"His airway's fine now. Roy, his carotids are much
stronger than his radial pulses and he's more than just
a little warm. This flush looks like sunburn."

"Heat stroke?" Roy guessed as he loosened the man's
clothing and belt for more inspiration room. He started 
to listen to how the man was breathing with a stethoscope.

"That'd be my guess." John said frankly. "Mike, see if
you can cushion his head, but don't interfere with or
restrain him in any way."

"Right."

"And let's get him stripped down."

Chet tossed Stoker a folded burn pack for him to
use for a pillow and then he began opening a shock blanket 
immediately after. Kelly slid the defibrillator and 
biophone with a foot nearer to Roy and Johnny, while he 
unfolded the sheet as fast as he could.

Cap crouched only briefly over the man to help
Marco open the shaking man's shirt where he
lay propped on his side, then he rose. "Marco,
after you're through patching him in, grab some
ice from the yard's soda cooler and hoof it back
here with a load, would ya?"

Johnny nodded vigorously in agreement from where
he was taking a hasty BP on his patient, letting Roy
keep the stethoscope, getting a systolic reading by
guiding touch alone.

"You got it.." Lopez said. He ran through the back
door. On a thought, he opened the idling UPS truck's
cab and switched off the running ignition and threw
on the truck's emergency brake. As he hurried he
heard another order from Cap float out of the shed.

"And get out a portable smoke fan, we'll use it
to start cooling him down. Also punch up
both garage doors, the cross wind might help."

Marco snatched open the chest cooler that was humming 
outside against the back of the station nearest the hose 
tower and soccer kick guided a drying mop bucket close 
until it was handy to use as a way to transport the ice 
they so desperately needed for their stricken visitor.

---------------------------------

Meanwhile, inside, Johnny drew out the defib paddles
and took a quick reading while Roy checked and rechecked
the leads connecting from the biophone to the EKG monitor.
"He's showing sinus tach, Roy. With considerable physical artifact."
The finding made Johnny grip the man's carotid again for
quality. "Still viable though."  He tossed the paddles aside
back into the open case. He swept appraising eyes over
their victim, who was now only in briefs.

Only then did Cap move over to the radio station to heft
up the acknowledgement microphone. "L.A., this is Station 51.
We have a still alarm at our location. Respond an immediate
ambulance, Code R."

##10-4, 51. Ambulance is responding. Driver reports his
ETA as four minutes. Your time out, 8 : 06.##

"Station 51, KMG 365, 10-4." and he sighed, returning to
hover back over the working team of paramedics and firemen.

The sinus tach came on the monitor in front of Cap,
but in moments, it seemed, the man's heartbeat grew 
more coarse and wide peaked into a more chaotic tach. 

Roy snaked a hand to the man's neck pulse and he
kept it there while he phoned out. "Rampart, this is Squad 51. 
How do you read?"

Dixie McCall replied when she heard the response buzzer sound
above her head. Seconds later, she was pressing the call out
toggle on the base station intercom.## Unit calling in, please 
repeat.## and she flipped on the wall recorder.

"Rampart, this is Rescue 5-1."

##Go ahead, 51. ## Dixie said getting set a chart note pad
and pencil. She tapped on the window glass to get Dr. Morton's
attention about the run. The young intern returned his reading
chart to the holder and entered the room to listen to
Roy's report as Dixie documented it in writing.

"Rampart, we have a male, aged approximately 60-62 years
of age. He is currently down with a witnessed seizure.
Duration: Two and a half minutes. Rampart, he also appears 
grossly febrile and not at all diaphoretic. Cooling measures are in
progress as well as assisted ventilations on 100 % O2."
DeSoto said to the hospital staffers as he watched
his partner show Marco and Chet where to place the
chilling ice. Piles soon appeared around the twitching man's 
axilla area, and thickly around his head and neck, ankles, groin 
and wrists inside the shock sheet the others had wrapped 
around him.  

Roy cupped the phone's receiver onto his shoulder, muffling 
it. "Stoker, keep tabs on his carotid for me, will ya?
I'm letting go. Ignore the monitor even though it's showing
a beat. Trust only what you feel. He may go sour on us 
real fast."
  
Stoker nodded, taking over his hold with a grip of his own.

Roy was now free to write down the information he had
gathered from his assessment.

Dixie asked. ##51, what are the patient's vitals?##

Gage was already biting open an IV of normal saline 
and he smacked a box of intravenous tubing against 
Chet's knee for him to open as well, in anticipation of its
use. He barely waited for a pause in Roy's account when he 
added. "Roy, pulse is, 134 and weak. Respirations are 30 and 
shallow. Pupils are slightly dilated and sluggish. BP is...
104 by palpation. Still working on the temp."

Roy parroted the vitals signs as he heard them,
scratching his nose while he watched Stoker maintain
good color on their patient. "30? And shallow?" he
doubled checked.

"Yeah.." Johnny confirmed.
 
Roy nearly dropped the phone when the man's belly
began to heave.. "Mike.. Watch it..! Watch it.
He's starting to vomit.."
 
Stoker pulled away the mask and supported the
man's head on his arm while some emesis gushed 
from his lips. Gage tossed him a syringe bulb from the 
02 apparatus case and some gauze 4 X 4's.

"Here! See if you can clear him first with this before 
anyone goes running to get the suction. This way's faster."

Cap bent to help Stoker hold the man's face firm despite
each violent convulsion, while Mike worked to keep him
from aspirating anything into his lungs.

Chet asked. "Are we cooling him too fast..?"

"No. He's not shivering yet." Johnny said tartly. 
"You and Marco, just keep doing what you're doing." 
he jogged his head animatedly at Chet and Lopez while
they hand shovelled ice into the yellow bundle of plastic 
sheeting cocooning the man.

Roy reported the event once he was convinced they were
on top of it. He also told Rampart about the feed he had
set up and about relaying his cardiac telemetry through 
to them on Lead Two.

##10-4, 51.## Morton replied.##Does your victim have
a gag reflex?## considering his options on reducing
the man's most serious complication.

Roy watched the man as he heaved a bit abdominally in response 
to Mike's evacuation attempts with the oral bulb whenever 
he reached in to sweep it over the man's tongue. "That's 
affirmative. But it doesn't look like he's bringing up much
beyond the initial amount. It appears to be all liquid."

Mike spoke up. "Roy, he did tell me that he drank too much pop."

"Soda?" Roy asked.

Stoker nodded as he moved faster to clear the man's mouth.

"I'll just bet his blood glucose's screwed up, too, on top of
his being drier than all get out." Gage mumbled. "Marco check 
those clothes over there for any sign of medical ID."

"Rampart, our witness mentions that our victim spoke
about consuming a lot of soft drinks prior to collapse."

##10-4.##
Mike Morton sighed and leaned onto the counter meeting
Dixie's eyes.##Do what it takes to regain good air 
exchange, 51. His pulse is accelerating.## he affirmed by 
looking at the monitor.

Cap got a pulse count. "It's up. Rate's 160 now." he 
told Roy to confirm what Morton had found.

Stoker finally got nothing but air into his bulb.
"I got him. I got him.." And he quickly sent some vents in,
timed with the man's own.  The fluttering pulse he
felt under his fingertips began to ease subtly and slowly
at first, but soon thereafter, by more than twenty beats 
a minute.

Morton spoke over the phone.##Good turn around. 
Did he aspirate, 51?##

DeSoto shook his head as he listened to the man's breath
sounds around the ice piled there, with his stethoscope.

"That's negative, Rampart." Roy sighed in relief.

Cap finished wiping the man's face clear with the dish towel that 
he remembered he had jammed into his pants pocket, in 
between Mike's 02 delivered vents. "Looks like we got lucky."

Morton went on. ##All right, enough's enough. Let's get a handle
on those uncontrolled convulsions. Start an IV, 51. 
A 500 cc bolus IV of Normal Saline and run it wide open. 
Administer 10 mg Diazepam IV Push. Monitor him carefully for 
dysrhythmias, 51, as it goes in. Titrate the diazepam
only to seizure resolution level. He's too irritable cardiac 
wise for any more than that.##

"An IV, Normal Saline, wide open. Diazepam
IVP until seizure is counteracted. 10-4."

"Man, I can't get a vein.. Chet.. kneel on his hand, will you?
Hold this arm still as you can.." John grunted, holding
his needle well away from Kelly and the convulsing man
until he had good room to work. "Pump up that BP cuff
again, too, while you're at it.."

Chet did as he was told and everyone held their breaths
while the blood pressure valve quietly snicked tight. It barely
raised a shocky vein. But it was enough.

 Seconds later...."I got it.." Johnny grinned, when he saw his 
catheter's flashback. Gage snatched for the flowing end of the 
hanging IV that Kelly had hung from the squad's side mirror. 
He quickly connected the two together while he taped up the 
rest of the IV and swabbed down its medication's port for Roy 
to use.

Roy slowly injected the global sedative until the man went limp
and relaxed into a post seizure turpor. His patient's color
paled and the sinus tach widened, turning a bit closer, into 
something else. Roy pulled the med needle out of the IV line. 
"That did it.." But he didn't smile. The EKG began to show 
anomalies.

"Stoker. How's he doing?" Johnny asked.

"Still got a carotid. It's easier to ventilate him now."

"It should be.." Gage coughed. "We just knocked out
most of his voluntary muscle abililty." he said 
taking another BP, this time with the stethoscope.

Roy did not look away from the monitor.

Marco looked up from his search of the man's belongings.
"There's no sign of an ID, medical or otherwise. But I
know his name's Marty Anders."
 At everyone's puzzled frowning, he said. "Oh, I read it from
a name tag he had pinned to his jacket in the delivery truck. 
I shut off its engine when I went out to get the ice."

Gage held up his thermometer he had taken R. "It's a
hundred fo--... Hold it..." he froze, studying a suddenly
off rhythm on the EKG screen. "He's in V-Tach!.......Mike?"

"I can't feel a pulse anymore."

At the same time, the radio burst into life. ## 51, defibrillate.
400 watt seconds.## Morton ordered.

"10-4, starting CPR." Roy confirmed. "Marco.." he indicated 
while the others rolled the man onto his back, whose color had
now washed into a bluish ghost of its prior shade. 

"Right." Lopez nodded and started vigorous chest compressions.

Gage gelled the paddles and waited for the charger to build.
"One. Two. Three... Four hundred watt seconds..  Clear!"

Everyone lifted their hands off the man.

Johnny delivered his first shock.

The heart monitor indicator leaped but didn't convert, instead
it fell into a course V-fib.

"No conversion.." he announced. "Recharging.." he said, hitting
the power up switch once more.

Again, he defibrillated. To no avail.

"Nothing..." Roy grunted.

Marco and Stoker instantly continued their CPR.

Roy picked up the phone. "Rampart, we've no recapture..Request
permission to insert an esophageal airway.." he said, his voice
tight with stress.

##Go ahead, 51. Then administer 1 mg 1/10,000 epinephrine IV and
then defibrillate again.##

Cap's head lifted when he heard the arriving ambulance approach on
the boulevard through the open garage doors. He saw it pull
into the station's driveway. He jogged over to them to show them
where their victim was.

Roy and Johnny worked for a very long two minutes securing
the airway and switching to an oxygen supported ambu bag.

The third countershock failed as well.  

The two ambulance attendants took over Lopez's compressions 
and Stoker's ventilations.

Roy said, "Still nothing, doc.."

Morton bit his lip. "Just what the h*ll's going on here? This is
just an environmental injury...isn't it?" he mumbled.

Dixie, overhearing, shrugged. "Your guess is as good as mine."

Morton slammed the response button down hard with a palm.
## 51, start a Lidocaine drip of 1.5 mg's and follow up with one amp 
sodium bicarb. Time we equalize his blood's acidity and give his system 
a reason to start working again. ## 

"10-4. One amp bicarb and a 1.5 mg Lidocaine drip." Roy
called aloud for Johnny's benefit.

The dark haired medic already had out the right things,
guessing ahead of time, their need, and he handed Roy the large bicarb
syringe after squirting some of it out to alleviate its trapped air.

##Then administer another milligram of epinephrine. IV Push. 
Continue CPR for two minutes then defibrillate once more.##

"An additional mg 1/10,000 epinephrine IV and counter shock
in two. 10-4, Rampart.." Roy repeated.

Johnny waited for Roy to administer the Lidocaine before he 
followed suit with his cap popped epinephrine. "Let's just hope
the lidocaine does the trick. I really don't think he'll handle
any procainamide well." 

"Let's hope so.." DeSoto grunted as he completed his
infusions.

CPR continued while they waited for the medication
to start working.

Then, after the fourth try using the defib paddles, a tentative cardiac 
rhythm bloomed on the monitor and soon Johnny felt a carotid 
weakly beating at the man's neck. "We got him back."  
he announced.

Roy lifted the phone. "Rampart, we're showing a sinus
rate of about 52 and we've regained a carotid pulse."

Johnny fed him a new set of vitals after snatching
the stethoscope from around Roy's neck. "BP's 102/58. 
Respirations are 14."  He watched the ambulance attendant 
switch the ambu attachment for the station's second 
portable 02 tank that Stoker had wheeled up from the 
squad's backup.

Roy relayed the news.

## I see it. Continue monitoring vitals and watch
for signs of overcooling. Continue the 02 and transport
as soon as possible. Call me back if his pulse rate doesn't
climb back up to normal in transit.##


A few minutes later, Johnny and Roy had the man
geared up for the gurney and together they loaded
the delivery man into the awaiting ambulance.
Johnny went with the patient with the gear while Roy
remained behind to follow in the squad. He got in
the driver's seat and leaned out the window. 
"This is irony for you.. How many times have I ever went
10-8 to Rampart on a call out of the stationhouse?"

"Twice, I think.." Chet said literally. "Once for that girl's
father with his sudden MI and then the other time when
that crazy family pulled up with the burning trailer with
the trapped kid in the driveway."

"Oh, yeah. Forgot about those two." DeSoto admitted.

Cap sighed, backing away so Roy could pull out.
"Let me know how he does. If he wakes up,
tell him I'm calling his boss to come pick up the 
delivery truck."

"That's if he wakes up while I'm with him.."
Roy grinned. "He's pretty out of it with his
meds and overall condition there, Cap."

"Yeah, I know. But he just strikes me as
the type who'll fuss over his vehicle, know
what I mean?"

"Yeah." And Roy was gone.

Chet, Marco and Stoker looked at the papers
and ice and water and plastic sheeting  strewning the
bay. "Man,.. looks like a tornado struck in here." Kelly
quipped.

"It did. A force of six. We're always like that on
a medical call so don't act like such an amazed twit . 
Go close both main doors and then you guys 
clean up over there. I'll go move the typewriter boxes 
into the kitchen." Cap said.

Soon, only a freshly mopped spot marked the place
where a man had nearly died fifteen minutes before.

----------------------------------

Photo : Roy with man on 02. 

Photo: Morton and dix. 

Photo: Johnny getting the gear out. 

Photo: Roy in a close up sitting in the squad.

**********************************
Date: Sun, 30 Mar 2003 05:10:46 +0100 (BST) 
From: "Katherine Bird" <kathbird01@yahoo.co.uk>  
Subject:  One of the Line... 
 
It was about forty minutes later.

Johnny and Roy returned to base,
whistling cheerfully. They had been buoyed
by the good news that Marty, the delivery man,
had suffered no long term effects from his 
heatstroke incident and Gage in particular, was
practically bouncing on his heels as he and Roy
made their way hungrily into the kitchen on a 
quest for food and coffee.

What the two paramedics didn't expect was the
mortuary like atmosphere filling the warmly lit
room and the sluggish sounds of hunt and peck
typing coming from Stoker, Chet and Marco as
they struggled to carry out Hank's log 
commandment from earlier. 

Next to Kelly, was a pile of crumpled typewriter
paper wads mounded up around his place at
the kitchen table and the neat organized reams
of papers surrounding the others.

Johnny and Roy skidded to a halt at the sudden
reminder of their new job duty. "Oh, that's right.."
John groaned sarcastically. "And here I had almost
forgotten about this..."

"Wish I had your capacity for forgetting.." Roy quipped
dryly as he poured out a cup of java for himself. He
ignored Johnny's pro-offered mug that was nonverbally 
asking for some, and he moved forward to see what Mike
was typing for his log form up close, pretending to not
even see Johnny's move at all.

Gage made a face at his partner and filled his cup with
a grimace, on his own, from the pot.

Roy threw out a finger. "Hey,... nice neat rows there
Stoker."

"Thanks.." Stoker grinned, without looking up. He had a
correcting pencil perched over one ear that hadn't even
been used.

Johnny likewise, snuck a peek over Chet's shoulder at his
work and started laughing. " You're having trouble spelling
your own name?" he asked incredulously. He snatched
up a random reject discard and unrolled it. "And this
one's got our call sign misspelled. How could ya have
screwed up typing "KMG 365", Chet?"

Stoker and Lopez chuckled from their seats, but didn't
look up from their work of index finger typing.

Kelly snatched the wrinkled paper out of John's hands
and he immediately began nesting the other rejected
paper balls protectively into his arms. "Hey! Quit being
nosy, geesh. What do I have to do to get a little privacy
around here? Build my own personal office?"

John didn't miss a beat. "You don't have to, Chet. Just
borrow Henry's doghouse if you wanna do that."

That won Gage an even louder mirthful reaction from the
guys. "Are you even gonna answer my question?" Johnny
went on, relentless and towering over Chet's chair.

"What question?" Kelly asked with an irritated edge.
Already his attention was bent on ignoring his worst
tormentor and concentrating on his newest hated chore.

Roy spoke up for Johnny. " The one about getting down
"KMG 365" wrong.."

"Oh." Chet said unenthusiastically. "I just get all these numbers
up here all confused." he said gingerly pointing at that row on
his manual typewriter. "They just don't feel right under the 
fingers, know what I mean?"

"Yeah..I know what ya mean." Roy said with a mild empathy 
and he took another sip of coffee.

Gage leaped up and sat butt perched on a kitchen chair's
back instead of on the seat where his shoes parked.
"So, whatcha gonna pay me to do your reports each
week, Chet..?"

That made Kelly blink more than twice at Gage.
"Believe me, Johnny, there isn't anything you do that's
worth me giving up a single solitary dime.." he gushed 
with absolute conviction.

"Suit yourself.." Johnny said and he hopped off the
chair to plunk down into the vacant nearby one that still had
a brand new plastic wrapped typewriter sitting in front of
it.  He grandly indicated the neighboring seat and its
accompanying unwrapped typewriter to Roy, teasing
him into joining in the fun currently ongoing.

Roy just rolled his eyes and took up Johnny's offer
of a chair. "It's 'Misery loves company' I guess..." he sighed.
"I might as well join you all now while I still have the patience.
 I've been dreading this new log recording assignment business
the whole way back here.."

"Oh? Why so angsty?" Gage grinned, cock-eyed and bright.

"I can't type much.." Roy growled.

Johnny cracked his knuckles loudly over his typewriter and he
pulled off its cellophane wrap. "Too bad. I feel for ya.."
Then he glanced around for the pile of logs in the middle of
the table, grabbed one sixth of the stack as his allotted portion,
and his eyes fell on the unused ream of typing paper quickly
dwindling in front of Chet as he failed yet again to type out
the basic information at the top of the form.

"**##&@**##!" Chet swore, and he used both hands to
angrily rip out the mistyped page from his typewriter.

Johnny used that moment to snag a blank sheet for his
own use from Kelly's pile.

"Hey... go get your own.. I don't have that much here
for myself as it is.." Chet complained.

"If you'd quit wasting it so fast maybe you'd be able
to make it last a little longer.. Here.." And Johnny 
lifted the erasure pencil from Mike's ear in an easy grab
and handed it to Chet in appeasement. "Maybe you
oughta learn all about having one of these then.."

Mike felt the robbing but disregarded it, eyeing up his 
own close work of careful hunt and pecking.

"What's this?" Kelly asked.

"What do you think it is?"

"A pencil.." Chet said, with "duh" written all over his tone.

"A correction pencil.. It erases typing marks. Watch.."
And Johnny inserted his stolen fresh piece of paper into
his new typewriter and his fingers flew through his own
name on the letter keys, typing. He intentionally typed
a "Z" after the "e" in Gage. Then he showed Chet how
the pencil worked. "See? Look. There's no sign of ink where
the "z" was here anywhere. Problem solved.."  Gage 
concluded, tossing the pencil down on top of the table.

Chet froze, blinking again. "Wait a minute. Wait a minute.
How'd you do that?"

"Do what? Use the pencil?" Johnny asked with a smirk.

"No, dummy. How'd ya type so fast?"

"Who? Me? I wasn't typing fast. I.....I.." he stuttered.

"Yes you were. I just watched you.." Chet fluttered
a few fingers in Johnny's direction. "You musta got
out your name in .....what, Roy, half a second?"

"At least..." Roy agreed with a yawn as he pulled off the
new wrapping on his typewriter and got it set for his use.

Cap sailed into the room, seeking coffee.. His face immediately
frowned when he hefted the pot.

"What's the matter, Cap?" Gage asked.

Cap glared at Kelly and turned the pot upside down to show
its empty state..

Chet shot up out of his chair to make a new one lickety split.

Cap rubbed his nose as he regarded all his men sitting with 
the logs and the new machines. He seemed not to see any
of them, lost in thought. Then he asked. "How's our UPS man?"

"He's gonna make it." Roy grinned. "How's the delivery truck?
Were all those packages Stoker said he talked about delivered
on time..?"

"Have you ever known UPS to be late on any delivery?" Hank
countered.

All the gang shook their heads ruefully. 

"I swear they had a new driver here faster than we usually 
get our ambulances on scene, once I called them about his
sudden illness." Cap joked. He watched Chet pour piping 
java into his empty mug absently. Then he sat down at a 
typewriterless spot at the kitchen table.

This time Marco spoke up. "What's the matter, Cap?"

"Hmm? Oh, nothing. Nothing. It's just uh, my looking at all
these typewriters is bringing back some memories 
for me, that's all."

"What kind of memories?" Johnny asked, limbering up his fingers
for the long task ahead working on the log forms.

Hank laced his fingers together around his coffee mug and
actually looked sheepish. "The forgettable kind."

Chet's moustache twitched in amusement as images
of McConnike's burning hat came to mind. But he said.
"Wanna talk about them?"

"Not much to say, actually."

Gage caught on to Chet's angling. "Sure there is.. 
Don't you know that your junior-under-McConnike days are
one of the great mysteries all your shifts have about ya?"

"Yeah, I know." He drew out an old insignia pin, a double
bugle from his shirt pocket and he studied its worn shape.

All the guys grew respectfully quiet and all the typing died
away as Cap's face furrowed in a memory that wasn't all
that mysterious or happy. In fact.. he looked stunned and
very very lost. "Do any of you fellas know what this is?" he 
said, fiddling nervously with the pin on the table
top.

"Yeah, Cap. That's your rank pin for captain off your dress 
uniform." Gage said straight faced and alert.

Hank didn't speak for a time, and he just swallowed while
considering words. Then he practically whispered.
"That's right. I just found out I've got another time scheduled
to use this again, starting tomorrow morning. Actually, it's 
gonna be time for all of us to ....get dressed up.. I ..I.. just 
got a call.." 

Roy's face blanched when he got what that meaning meant.
"Who is it, Cap?"

The others' hearts hit their throats.  

"Station 8's Captain Stone just got back from assisting at
a real bad county fire. He just told me that ..that.."  his voice
broke as he fought emotions... "Uh,..the first story fell on top of 
the chief's battalion car as he radioed out orders to the crews. 
McConnike's just died at Rampart."

-------------------------------------------------------

Photo :   McConnike's red car.. with its door ajar, empty.

Photo :   Marco, Cap and Mike looking stunned at the kitchen
              table.

Photo :   Roy and John looking lost, leaning against a wall.

*****************************************
From : "patti keiper" <pattik1@hotmail.com>  
Subject :[EmergencyTheaterLive] The White Helmet  
Date :Mon, 31 Mar 2003 02:09:40 +0000  
   
 
Hank Stanley began to twitch under the following 
silence coming from his men. He found he couldn't even 
meet their eyes. ::If only they knew how this effects me.::
The gold double bugle pin seemed to burn his eyes in the 
morning sunlight glinting off of it from the window. 

Roy was the first one to speak. "I'm ....very sorry to
hear about this, Cap. Is there..is there anything we can do?"

That finally broke Stanley's terrible burden of sharing the dark 
news. Hank felt suddenly released from its heavy weight. "No, 
no, no..I'm.. still waiting to hear back from the other companies 
who are still on that fire cleanup as to details. You know how these
things go. Stone only knew what his paramedics told
him when they called from the hospital. He--he said it
happened only a few minutes ago. Something about
ah, his heart shutting down because of fluid building up
around it..?" Cap guessed helplessly inept at the right 
elusive medical term.

"Sounds like it was cardiac tamponade.." Gage said softly,
abandoning his coffee mug. "The docs probably couldn't
tap it in time, especially if there were other problems
going on with the crushing inj..." Johnny trailed his voice off
suddenly thinking better of his choice of words and the
subject matter. "ugh,..yeahhhh.." he said lamely to end it.
He cleared his throat and studied his shoes to avoid Cap's
intense gaze following his answer as to a possible why.

Again, all the gang muffled into silence. That simple 
happening suddenly grew intolerable for Hank.
Cap's eyes filled and he swung into immediate motion,
standing so fast that the chair behind him loudly impacted 
against the wall.
"Oh, ..uh..nothing they could've done then to save him, 
huh?" and he sucked in a controlling breath to quell his rising 
grief. "That's.. that's too bad.. I...I'm really gonna miss..."
Cap couldn't complete his sentence.

Roy and John didn't dare to say anything.

This time, the silence cut like a knife and Cap.....moved.
He darted forward, suddenly snagging the stack of logs
that was their current headache and picked it up, leafing
through to the back section where they had their list of monthly
fire inspection addresses.. His finger eagerly traced down the
page as he read them quickly. "There.. there's one we can go
to...right there.." and he stabbed his finger down on the
page at one particular one at the very edge of their
jurisdiction. Roy couldn't help but notice that the address
was practically next to the fire that had killed McConnike.

The slate clattered back onto the table. "Stoker,..note
number seven's location.. We're leaving.."

All the guys startled at the highly irregular decision.

Even Chet ejected. "Cap..we're bringing the engine to
do a hazardous property inspection?"

"And the squad....." Hank nodded curtly. "Move."

Everyone scrambled for the bay.

Kelly lingered. "Cap, HQ is gonna think this is weird. Are
you sure you wanna d--"

Hank whirled on the Irishman. "Are you questioning your 
captain's judgement?!"

"No, Cap, I uh..."

"Fine. Go get your coat on and stuff a sock in it."

"Yes, sir.." 

Cap's tight flurry of firm action jolted the men into obeying
the odd order even faster and then all piled into their
turnouts. Stoker put the big engine into drive and then
put both feet on the brake, waiting for Cap to board her
as the garage door opened.

Hank Stanley moved to the response mic. "L.A. This is
Station 51. We're 10-8 to 1457 Addison on a citizen's report
about a fire hazard. Going to check it out.."

##10-4, Station 51. Updating your location's status. Time out,
9 : 34.##

In the rig, Chet murmured.. "Can he do that?"

Marco slapped him on the arm sharply to be quiet.

Roy and Johnny fidgetted in the squad for a moment 
putting on their helmets and peering out at the wall map 
for the address's cross street until they knew exactly 
where to go. Then they headed out with their lights 
darkened.

Stoker soon followed in a likewise darkened Ward LaFrance.

As they turned left onto the avenue, Roy couldn't hold
it in. "You just had to open your big mouth, didn't you?
That was probably the worst thing you could have said
to him.."

Gage's face animated. "I didn't mean to say things the way
I did, Roy... It just sort of....slipped out.."

"Yeah? And now Cap's probably gonna be flipping out. Are
ya happy?" DeSoto countered. "He's probably outta his skull
right now imagining things.."

Johnny didn't say anything and clammed up.

Roy spoke again after a full minute of nothing.
"You know what he's up to, don't you?"

Gage pulled his face away from his hand and elbow 
perched out the window. "I...I....well, not exactly.."

Roy looked straight ahead, concentrating on the driving.
"He's going to the fire scene. Where it happened."

Johnny's head whipped around in surprise and his
mouth gaped open.

-------------------------------------------------------

Benjamin Stone wearily stood on the crumbling brick
crackling under his shoes as he finished directing the
engine companies to those areas of the hotel that
were still stubbornly smoking over his HT now set
to command frequency.

He was surprised to see Station 51 weaving in between
the working units and to his command area that he
had assumed when McConnike went down. He
barely remembered finishing his radioed order as they
pulled up. He didn't have to ask the reason why they
were there. One other station company from L.A. County
suddenly had invented excuses to be in the barrio 
neighborhood right then, too.

Ben stepped forward as the 51 gang bailed out.
He didn't say anything as Hank's eyes suddenly fell on
what was left of the dusty red battalion car still partially
buried in debris. He briefly turned down his radio volume.
Captain Stone saw Hank freeze into place in shock as
the whole situation suddenly slammed into ugly reality
for him. Benjamin just stood quietly next to his colleague
and waited. So did Chet, Marco, Mike, Johnny and Roy.

Then Cap spoke without looking at Ben. "You're in command
now?"

Ben nodded.

"You should be wearing the white now. Departmental policy.."
Cap said waving an absent hand towards Ben's captain 
helmeted head.

Ben flinched, but again, Ben nodded numbly.

"I'll go get it.." Hank mumbled tightly, his voice full of
powerful emotion.

Gage immediately stepped forward.. "No. Wait.. Cap. Let us
go for it.. You don't have to be the one to go over there."

Hank shrugged off Gage's gripping glove mutely and ordered.
"Stay here."

The others watched Cap slowly pick his way to the spot where
IV papers and EKG patches and spent syringes marked the place
where Station Eight's medics had treated McConnike on the ground.

------------------------------------------------------------------

Privately, Hank was very glad the car's paint job and interior upholstery
were both red as he dug bricks and smouldering boards out of the
way until he could reach into the nearly flattened car's passenger
seat for the white battalion chief's helmet he knew one of
the treating medics would have thrown there. He found it under 
McConnike's unused gloves and situation slate. 

A sob escaped when Hank finally lifted it out into the light and smoke.
There was no red coloring here to hide the copious fresh blood, still 
staining it.

Backing out of the chief's car, Captain Stanley searched for and
found a hose puddle nearby to wash it off. He bent down, peeling
off his own gloves to do the task.

Benjamin Stone immediately hurried over to help him with it.
"Hank.. let me help.."

Stanley stiffened at first, but then he nodded, meeting Ben's
smoke red eyes.

He was in the presence of an equal at last so Hank let his 
pain out into the open, and he began to cry, his face streaming 
in rich tears.

Benjamin Stone made sure his back was hiding Cap's face
from the view of the rest of 51's men. "It's ok.. We're
here together. And I just heard over the comm that
Station 127 is on the way, too."

"Good man, Captain Gorman. Glad he found a way to 
make it over here." Hank sniffed.

"Yeah.." Stone sighed, holding both of their HT radios in
his lap while they crouched and washed.

Soon, the blood stains were gone and the two captains had
dried the white chief's helmet off with their sleeves.
"Here..." Hank said when they were done. "You take this until
we find out who is getting it permanently. Might be you.."

Ben met Hank's gaze and set a glove on Cap's shoulder.
"Might be you, too, Hank. You've got the most seniority even
over me."

Stanley's mouth twitched painfully but he didn't make a noise
beyond a terse. "Yeah, maybe."

"You know HQ won't tell us who's got the chief's job until
after the funeral."

"Yeah, I know.. But you're still at this fire scene and it's still today.
And we both know the highest on scene officer from the initial set
of called out stations has to take over. "

Now it was Ben's time to lose it and his face twisted.

Hank spoke quietly,  "Put this on, Ben." 
he said, polishing the white helmet once more to be sure it 
was clear of any sign of soiling. "He would have wanted it that 
way. Procedure, you know?" Captain Stanley sighed, wiping away the
tears blinding him before any of the other firemen with the 
nearby hoses from County could see any of his weakness.

"McConnike was all that.." And then Ben smiled as he pulled off
his white crested cap's helmet for the white chief's one. He sighed
as he tightened the helmet's damp chin strap.

"He sure was."

Together, the two captains returned to Stone's engine while
Ben completed coordinating the fire's final cleanup as temporary
battalion chief.

------------------------------------------------------------------


Photo:  Captain Stone talking with Hank Stanley.

Photo: Chief McConnike with County firefighters..

Photo : Stoker and Cap in the Engine going to a fire scene.

Photo : Night hotel fire..

 
******************************************* 
From : "Cassidy Meyers" <killashandrarey@hotmail.com>  
Subject : For Every Action....  
Date :Fri, 04 Apr 2003 15:50:47 +0400  
 

The rest of the gang dared not approach Hank and Ben
where they were quietly discussing the progress
of the containment on the still smouldering hotel fire.

"Are you going to go over there?" Marco elbowed Chet.
"I'm not going to go over there. It's none of my 
business."

"Oh? really? It WILL be our business if headquarters 
finds out we're not reporting to the location we said we
were going to go to. And it won't just be Cap's butt in a 
sling, it'll be all of our rears, too." Kelly complained 
plaintatively.

Gage, who was leaning on the squad's hood with his
helmeted chin propped on a hand, shot an irritated
look at Chet, but thought better about saying anything.
::Deep down inside, I know he's right..:: Gage
thought privately. ::But d*mn it. Last thing I need is 
a formal reprimand on my station record 
for dereliction of duty.::

It was as if Roy was clairvoyant. He spoke aloud as
if answering Johnny's private thoughts. "You know, we
might get off the hook here since it was all Cap's idea.."
he murmured, matching his partner's nervous, feigned
looking-bored pose on the fender. Only difference was
that Roy had his own helmet off in respect for the tragedy 
which he knew was only just beginning to tear Hank apart 
despite his tall friend outwardly beginning to look calm, 
cool and collected once more.

"Now that's a little callous don't you think?" Gage rounded
on Roy.

"No,  I-I...it's not callous at all. I'm just being practical. 
That IS how it'll rule one way or another if we're caught 
being off the beaten track like this." DeSoto said, nonplussed. 
"Besides, you know I'm right because I know positively about
what you're thinking. It's a gift I've picked up after serving 
with you for half a dozen years." his voice cracked.

Johnny's face fell into annoyed denial as Roy's point
stung home once more. "Ok, All right. So you know what
I'm thinking. So let's just clarify a few points on that then. All
right.. This is exactly what I'm thinking..
I can't HELP thinking the worst, Roy, at this point .
And I'm sure the rest of the guys are doing it, too." he insisted
passionately. "And let me add another thing while you're 
digging around in my head. It's sheer craziness to think it's only 
us and Kelly who are noticing that Cap's just a little bit off his rocker."
he said waggling his fingers in a so-so gesture in the air. "Just look
how those county guys are whispering behind Cap's back like
that. It's getting me mad.."

Roy sighed and leaned against the squad, hanging his head down
in fatigue, "Nothing like a cold impersonal phone call to be
the bearer of bad tidings. That must have been difficult for Stone
to have even called Cap on this whole messy nightmare so soon."

"I know. I know." Johnny insisted. "And I know Stone really well,
too. I mean he was MY captain before CAP was my captain and
Ben was also my paramedic partner even before you got your 
claws sunk into me for the duration." Gage snorted. "Ben's handling
it real good. And so are we,.." he glared at Chet.." for the most part."
he angled at the curly haired fireman taking a drink at a leaky
hydrant close to the engine. "Only what do we do about Cap in 
the meantime?"

"What do you mean what do we do in the meantime?" Roy
fired back.

Chet spit out his water in between Roy and Johnny to shut
up their squabbling. "Ok, here it is in a nutshell since your 
higher educated minds seem to be having trouble grasping what
the problem is. Let me reiterate for ya in one sentence!" he
shouted.  "We can't let Cap keep us on a hotspot after hauling us 
off like this on a whim. It's bad for business." Chet insisted.

"Would you pipe down..?!" Gage hissed. "They'll hear you."

"Fine, Johnny. Just as soon as you do. I came over here
to tell you exactly the same thing.." Kelly said with finality,
and he immediately walked away, with his hands jammed
into his pants pockets around his turnout coat and he angrily
yanked at his helmet strap until it was dangling loose.

Gage caught his breath into an aggravated sigh and ran
both sets of fingers through his hair just to have something
to do. He shook his head at Kelly's back and retreated from
all of them by putting on his helmet and sitting down dejectedly
in his seat inside the squad. He punctuated his unhappiness
by slamming shut the door on its hinges.

Roy glanced up and saw that Hank seemed to be drawing
strength from the close presence of Stone and mentally,
he began amending his concern about Cap bending protocol
to be at a fatality scene. ::Maybe it's a start on his accepting the
fact that his old captain's truly gone. I know how I would
feel if I had been the one digging out Hank's helmet from that
car. I don't even want to imagine what Cap's going through
right now..:: he reasoned privately.

DeSoto gave a short wave at Mike Stoker to tell him to tell the
others that he would be the one to go over where Hank
and Ben were, to....gently.. tell him the company consensus
about being tardy for the fire hazard call, however bogus
it really was. 

He waited respectfully, his helmet still off, a short distance
away from the two higher ranked men, quietly. 
But then his HT came to life sounding a tones out for another 
squad. The loud squelching reply of the responding team caught
him unawares and he jumped. Soon, DeSoto found himself
on the receiving end of two curious glances from Stone
and Stanley. "Sorry, Cap... Captain Stone....Uh, I suppose
you're wondering why I'm over here against a direct order..
Umm.. so I'll just out with it.. Cap, how are you doing?" Roy 
asked.

Hank had his control back on his emotions, at least the ones
Roy could visibly see and any possible reprimand he normally
would have dished out, died before aborning.
"I'm ok, I guess. We're just.... I... am just.. uh.. Well, you see
Ben and his men are still cleaning up." he said lamely, trying to smile. 

Roy nodded quietly. "Is there anything you fellas want us to
do back there while we...hang out?"

It was as if Cap suddenly remembered where he was. He
seemed to drag himself back as if he had been some great
distance away and he started murmuring apologies fluidly.
"Oh, oh, oh.. Sorry, Ben. ohmyg*d. Sorry, Roy. I guess I - I
wasn't thinking straight when I dragged us all out here. I..."

"Don't worry about it, Cap." Roy said, setting a hand on Cap's
arm. "You had to come."

Hank's face mellowed into a tortured acceptance and then 
he met Roy's eyes very like a child's for an instant,  before his 
command ability took over once more. "Yeah, well, thanks 
for letting me stay. In letting US, ....stay.." he corrected, offering
Ben an ungloved handshake of profound gratitude.

Being in front of one of Hank's regular men, Ben didn't
do anything different but grasp that handshake back, with 
both palms warmly. "No problem. Uh,...I guess I'll see 
you both at the services  tomorrow morning, Hank." and 
then Ben walked away, still feeling very uncomfortable 
under the nods of respect coming from all the firefighters 
from the city for assuming the chief's post as he had done. 
"Oh, yeah." Captain Stone said, turning back towards Hank. 
"I forgot to tell you this earlier, Hank. Gail wants to see 
you before the funeral."

Cap's mouth opened but he didn't have to say anything out
loud. He just nodded that he understood. 

"Call me if you need anything, Hank. I know how much
the chief meant to you for I...know ...just how terribly 
much he meant to me, even if.. I'm realizing that 
..only now."

"That same thought is hitting all of us Ben. I'm just
the first to feel it, I guess. And about Gail. I won't forget.
Same goes for the phone call offer. In reverse right
back at ya.." Hank said striding away at last.

Ben gave a short salute that whispered a painful reminder
to Hank of McConnike, but then Ben disappeared into
the veil of smoke, around the corner of his engine.

Roy flanked Cap and he and Stanley started their
way across the street back to where the rest of the gang
and the vehicles were idling. "So, what next? Going to call in
to renege that false citizen's report."

"I'm doing nothing of the sort. I'll just tell it like
it is.. Look.." and he pointed down the block towards
the Addison address that he had so bogusly given dispatch 
on the way out.

Roy started smiling and shook his head. "Truck 127
beat us to it with the same idea, eh?"

"Yep. Looks like they're covering for Gorman so he
can get in his own time with Ben and this ....awful
fire. Can I help it if our two calls got crossed over the 
airwaves again?" he said throwing his arms up in mock 
mystification.

"Guess not.." Roy grinned, folding his arms in front
of himself in relief at Cap's sudden sense of humor.

Captain Stanley pulled his HT out of his pocket.
"L.A. This is Station 51."

##Go ahead, 51.##

"L.A., Truck 127 has doubled our response to 
the hazard call. We're returning to base."

##10-4, 51.## Spap.

Cap guided Roy on ahead of him with an affectionate
grip on the shoulder as they started walking again.
"So, you drew the short stick to come fetch me?"

"More like my having the longer backbone to do it, 
Cap."

"Being practical as always, eh? I've always liked that 
about you, Roy. It's a strong beginning sign of a good 
departmental candidate..." and he strode on ahead
of him as he gestured to Stoker to put the rig in driving
gear for a return trip.

Roy stopped in his tracks at Cap's use of the past tense
and the hints about a possible other future for himself. 
::Now just what in HECK did that mean?::

The sight of Station 127's Captain Gorman, kneeling 
before McConnike's crushed batallion car in a private 
prayer, drove away all further thoughts concerning his
own well being in DeSoto and the sandy haired paramedic 
left the depressing street to rejoin Johnny in the squad.
Uncharacteristically, Gage was behind the wheel.

::Guess I'm not the only one feeling jumpy about
Cap today..:: Roy mused.

----------------------------------------------------------


At Rampart, Dixie kept looking up at the hallway which
led to the main Emergency Doors. She had just arrived
from home to start her swing shift when she had heard the
shocking news of Chief McConnike's passing.

She had glanced up for the fifth time when Kel, standing 
next to her, finally commented about it. "Are you expecting
someone?" he asked. Then he quipped, "I mean apart from
the emergencies you and I usually see every day.."

McCall chuckled with a wry smile. "As a matter of
fact, yes, I am. Though I wish I weren't. I hate it when there's
a death in the FD. Seems every man on the department finds 
his way here to be with the deceased's family or with the deceas--." 
she said, breaking off, not elaborating further.

Brackett looked up and stroked her arm in support.
"Yeah, they always come. But this particular one's probably just 
striking the men a little harder and deeper than most. He was a
popular man. Maybe even infamous to some. But I do
know his sudden death's effecting even me. Chief McConnike was one
of the lynchpin lecturers who helped me out in court during the
early stages of the paramedic program. I honestly believe
that if it hadn't been for him, there'd BE no paramedic program. 
And Roy would probably be just another engine fireman. And Johnny.."

Dixie grinned. "And Johnny would probably still be a juvenile
delinquent serving off probationary time as a volunteer
pumper man at Eight's."

Brackett sighed, tapping the side of his unread chart into his
palm. "Well said. And it's all true. We owe alot to what the chief
stood for and all that he's done for us.."

"But that still doesn't explain why no one's shown up yet, Kel.
Nurse Evan's told me that it's already been an hour and a 
half since he died."

"Maybe the initial shock and disbelief has a lot to do with it. 
I still can't believe it and I was there when Joe pronounced 
him. It'll take time to really sink in."

Dixie set down the coffee cup that suddenly didn't taste
good anymore. "Anything I can do for you, Kel? ...You're
the only one within my empathy's range so far."

Kel's easy smile fell away. "The Chief's still in the treatment room.
And the mortician's now ready to do his prelim death certificate 
exam downstairs. Would you mind taking him down there 
personally, for me? Joe needs me in treatment five on the 
case with ketoacidosis now that she's responding to him and
I won't have the time t--"

"Sure, Kel.. Somehow it's fitting that a friend, and not just some
nameless orderly, goes with him, to his last visited place here
at the hospital."

"Thanks, Dix." And Kel was gone in a flurry of white.

--------------------------------------------------------
Dixie McCall took a deep breath before entering the
darkened room. She was ready for just about
anything regarding the state of McConnike's fatal injuries.
What she wasn't prepared for, was that Gail, was still there.
By herself. "Oh, my g*d, Gail. You're alone?"

"Dixie?" said the older woman, lifting her head from McConnike's
still hand. "I-Is that you?" she sobbed.

Dixie hurried around the bed and enveloped the petite Irish 
woman deeply into her arms. "I'm so sorry I wasn't here
when he was brought in. I just got on duty about five minutes 
ago." Then her anger rose. "When I get through talking with
my nursing staff about leaving you here like this, why I--"

"Dixie, it's not their fault. I asked them to go away and to
wait on telling my family. I wanted to do it. Only, I haven't 
been able to move..." and she fell into yet another string
of crippling sobs.

Nurse McCall pulled over an exam stool for Mrs. McConnike
and sat her down. She then paced over to the medicine
cabinet and located some kleenix. Then she knelt by
the distraught woman, holding her hand and set the box
of them onto her lap. "It's ok, Gail. We'll tell them 
just as soon as you've hold enough over your emotions 
to do it. Here, have some more." she said gently. Then she 
hugged Gail tightly in utter sympathy and Dixie felt 
her own eyes sting with moisture. "I know. I know.."
she soothed as Gail cried even stronger. "Your husband 
was a great great man, and I'm utterly proud of the fact 
that I had the wonderful privilege of knowing him." she said, 
her voice breaking, too..

Gail clung closer to Dixie and only then did 
the full brunt of her grief finally come rippling out.

It was a long time later, when Gail began to relax.
She sighed, looking at Dixie, but then she rose 
from the stool to take McConnike's work gnarled palm 
once more into her own. "I suppose you came in here, to..."
and her breath hitched only slightly. "...to take him away.."
Dixie went to her side and gripped her hand, but she
nodded. Mrs. McConnike had as level a head as her
thirty years husband once did and she said.
"Well, I suppose you do need this space for others 
now. " she sighed quietly. "Can I help you with him?" Gail 
asked, suddenly seeking Dixie's face for anything, 
any task at all just to have something to do.

Dixie's face calmed then and she smiled slightly. 
"Of course... There's only a few things we need to do first 
before I leave with him. We will be moving him to a private
suite downstairs until your family comes."

"I'd really like that.. please.."
Gail's eyes were grief bright but brave, as she beheld her
husband's shattered body when Dixie lowered the sheets
to disconnect all tubes from the quiescent machines 
surrounding him. 

"I'll make the arrangements myself.."

"Thanks.." she sighed.
"Dixie?"

"Yes?"

"Do you think..uh, do you think Melton felt anything
when the building--"

"No, no, Gail. I don't think he did. His paramedics
said that he was unconscious immediately afterwards
because his helmet couldn't provide enough prot-- uh.." she 
broke off, mentally kicking herself for talking so frankly 
medically speaking. "He was knocked out then,  Gail. Right 
away. So I don't think he was even aware of what was 
happening to him. Some of McGiven's personal notes said 
as much on his run sheet."

Gail just held a hand to her mouth, staying still, then she
spoke at last. "You two must be right, for h-he does look 
very peaceful."

"He does.." Dixie  instantly agreed.

Gail lovingly ran her hand up the quiescent Chief's arm and to 
his face before she gave him a soft kiss on his bandage 
wrapped forehead around the cervical collar. 
"Are-are you going to take that....out?" Gail said, pointing 
to the EOA still taped to her husband's very pale lips as
she smoothed down his gore crusted hair.

"I'm afraid we're not allowed to. That will have to stay there. 
I'm sorry. But you can help me with this if you like?" Dixie said,
unfolding a liquid proof satchel from a lower cupboard
that was person sized. ::Thank g*d, this looks like a 
sleeping bag.:: Dix thought. "We ...have to get him off
...this backboard next." she said gauging Gail's reactions to
all her information. But McConnike's small wife was very solid 
even at the height of her despair and her color never wavered
into fainting shades.

Dixie decided to let her stay in the room for the
rest of his post care.

"Ok..k" Gail said. "Can we wash him up first, Dixie? I-I don't
want him to look unpresentable to--" she said, her voice 
breaking.

"Sure we can.. I'll go grab a basin from over there." Dix said. 
She knew from the tight bandaging on the chief's wounds 
that most places she could see on him could be cleaned without 
unnecessarily horrifying Gail with their post death bleeding. 
She had already seen the snugly taped off sites where the 
earlier nursing staff had stopped the chief's running IVs so 
those punctures wouldn't do just that in front of family members.
 
As they gave McConnike his final bath, Gail began to sing
a hymn to him, very softly, and its sweetness made some
of Dixie's pain and her own, waft quietly away into the stillness
of the treatment room.

-------------------------------------------------------------
Lunch was completely untouched, but sleep still tried
to sneak up on most of the gang hanging out in the rec room
and kitchen. Cap, had secluded himself into his office, and
uncharacteristically, his door was shut to his men.

Gage had noticed that detail after he had taken his afternoon
shower. He looked up at Roy, pouring himself a cup of coffee.
He made a face when the first sip entered his mouth, cold.
But Johnny hadn't the heart to complain to Stoker to make any
new coffee despite it being his task today to cover that chore.
Johnny did it himself, without a fuss, only afterwards
saying.. "Huh.. not hungry either eh?" he asked Stoker, patting 
him on the shoulder around where the engineer 
was hiding behind his newspaper for some privacy.

"Not especially. Even Boot's not eating." Stoker replied without
taking the paper down between them.

"Really?" Gage said in surprise, looking around.
"Now, just where did Boot go?"

"He's in the office with Cap.." Chet said, looking up from a
word find that he really wasn't concentrating on with any
enthusiasm. "He kept scratching on the door to be let in 
until Cap finally did it."

"Oh."  The fact that Boot was sticking to Hank like glue began
to worry Gage big time.

Roy had overheard the conversation but decided to be just a
mousy listener for the duration. He got out a mop bucket on his
own volition and started methodically mopping the undirty floor. 
Mike dutifully lifted up his feet when Roy got to his side of the table.

"Who cooked today?"DeSoto finally asked, seeing the untouched
stroganoff pot cooling on its orange potholders on the table.

"Cap..did. He got it made and on the table in less than ten
minutes while you two were out back helping Marco hang
that hose." Kelly replied.

Roy tried a little psychology. "Man, sure smells good. It would
be a shame to let such a great meal go to waste." he said
to the room at large.

"I don't see you eating any.." Marco said from his place slumped
on the couch, pretending a snooze with a magazine over his
eyes.

Roy mildly cocked his eyebrows at being outsmarted in his
own game. "I might...." he admitted, sliding the pot of pasta with his
mop handle to a place more center on the table. Stoker
began unnecessarily straightening out a few table place settings
as Roy concluded his sentence.."..later..." DeSoto admitted.

Johnny finally moved from where he was numbly standing,
seeking a seat. He almost sat in Cap's recliner when he
changed his mind at the last second, nimbly. "Oh, no.. 
I'd better stay out of his SPOT.. He might be coming out 
any second now. "

"Wanna bet?" Chet said sarcastically. "Cap's really busted up.
Didn't you see his face out there, Johnny? I've never seen him
so hurt, not even when he was partially electrocuted from that
wire the other year."

Johnny's crafty helping grin fell away into one of worry almost
as deep as Marco's.

Even Roy stopped mopping.

"Just what do you think he's doing in there? Sounds quiet. If he
wanted to get away to let loose a few tears he could've gone
out into the yard. No one would've bugged him until the tones
went off."

"Who knows,  Chet.." Johnny said sharply. "How can any of us
say how Cap should be reacting right now? I mean he just lost
his best friend.." then he amended himself. "All right, maybe 
not his completely best friend, but McConnike sure as h*ll was 
a close fellow colleague and coming to that, now that I think 
about it, McConnike was Cap's old CAPTAIN, long before 
any of us even KNEW about firehouses.." Gage concluded. 
"So of course he's bound to act a little weird. I know I would 
act a little nuts myself if I had found out that Cap had been 
the one squashed in that car this morning."

No one debated Johnny's theory or voiced an opinion about
the tacky way Gage referred to McConnike's grisly end.

The silence dragged almost as slowly as the afternoon sun.
Until Roy began mopping again.

Johnny rubbed his face in fatigue and parked on the couch
next to the nonsleeping Marco. "Man, what I wouldn't give
for an alley dumpster fire right about now, anything for a 
little distraction..."

-------------------------------------------------------------------

Photo : Cap kneeling on the ground by a house.

Photo : Dixie and Brackett leaning into the base station
            receiver with pained looks on their faces while they
            listen.

Photo :  Mrs. McConnike singing a hymn in darkness.

Photo : Johnny Gage sitting, thoughtful for once to the guys.

Photo :  Boot, waiting anxiously by his food, not eating.

Gif : ETL theater Banner, pink tones, saying, "Watch
       out for the smoke at Emergency Theater Live. Come
       get a good lungful.." featuring a hurt Johnny Gage, an injured
       cannula'd woman, and firemen fighting a hazy fire. 

**********************************************
From : "Cory Anda" <andacory@hotmail.com>  
Subject : [EmergencyTheaterLive] Sky Heat...  
Date : Sun, 06 Apr 2003 04:08:03 +0000  
   
 
It was as if a deity had been listening. The tones
went off and they went off long. Johnny flung his
eyes upward in a grateful gesture and said,
"Thank you.." with all the sincerity he could muster.

##Station 51 with brush assignment Station 36. 
Automobile accident. Half mile north of Topeka Canyon
on Alameda Way. Half mile north of Topeka Canyon on
Alameda Way. Engine 36 reports smoke showing off
road. Be advised Chopper Nine has been notified. 
Time out, 14:06.##

As one, the gang rushed out but not before grabbing
a breadstick or two each from a lunch basket for
fortification. Roy was nearest, so he acknowledged the
run, "Station 51, 10-4, KMG 365."

Running along the wall towards the squad,
Johnny saw Cap's office door open as Cap ran out
towards the engine. In a brief glimpse, he saw a dusty
file open on Cap's desk with official looking papers 
lying there. And Boot was under the desk, watching
Cap go. ::I wonder what in heck those are?:: Johnny
wondered. But then the door swung shut on its own,
blocking out the sight and then there was no more
time for speculation. 

En route, Cap came over the squad's radio on side
channel.##Engine 51 to squad 51. I've just spoken to
Captain Carter of 36's. He reports two victims. A mother
says her daughter panicked and left the scene; a girl of 
eleven. His men are trying to locate her but they are being 
hampered by a grass fire discovered in the area.##

"10-4, Engine 51. " and Johnny hung up the mic on its spigot 
when he heard the frequency close. "Man, that canyon's still 
gotta be tinder dry. Remember it from our visit with those
anthrax sick wool weavers from last month? I sure hope 
this one doesn't escalate into a wildfire."

"Yeah.." Roy commented as they sped towards their 
destination. "I heard from Dwyer yesterday over lunch
that all our water choppers are already busy out at the 
Murphy Canyon Blaze over in the next county. It's 
amazing that L.A. managed to find one for our call."

##Let's hope we don't need it. ## Gage said, his eyes
already tracing the horizon for telltale smoke over by
the mountains to the north. ##Last thing I wanna do
sweat to death hiking all over those hills wearing 
SCBA and then needing a sudden bath in a water drop.##

Roy made a face of mutual dislike at the thought and
waggled his head in agreement. "Don't speculate too
much. I'm not liking the picture you're painting, pally." 
he teased.

"Wow, would you look at that?" Gage said. "Looks
like there's a storm sitting over our mountain."

"Oh, yeah?"Roy said, not looking away from his 
driving. "Fat lot of good that'll do. That'll be no
relief at all. It's too hot to rain."


Fifteen minutes later,  51 arrived at the isolated spot
L.A. indicated. The squad pulled a "U"-ie so that it
pointed back towards the way out and so did
the cumbersome engine. 36 had already strung hoses
from the rural parkland hydrant system and Carter
and his men's attention were divided between staying
with the victim by the shattered car and fighting a
brush flare that didn't seemed to have been caused
by the car itself.

They gang bailed out. Johnny and Roy immediately
headed for the woman seated and hysterical on the
ground. She was being supported upright by one of 
Carter's men. She was already wearing a nasal cannula 
and was being encouraged not to move around where 
she sat upright against his shoulder. He told them
more. "She got a little too much smoke here. Don't
think she's injured. Found her walking around when
we got here."

Roy nodded.
He glanced around while Johnny introduce them and who
they were to her. DeSoto looked up at Captain Carter 
before Hank could drag him away for the fire's details. 
"Where's your paramedics?" he asked him.

Steven punched down his HT's antennae after listening
to a report from his hose team insinuated inside
the smoking tall grass. "On another call. That's why
you got one." he said with a shrug. Then he turned his
attention to his primary hose line washing down around
the car itself to dilute any spilled gasoline.

Roy grunted in sympathy and turned his attention back
towards his victim. 

Cap barked out orders. "Marco. Flank around upwind with
our brush hose and back up the beta team in there. Take Stoker 
with you. Chet, start searching for the missing girl. And this last
is for all of you. Have your air bottles glued on tight and I
mean it." he insisted, knowing the tendency of his firemen
to not want to secure any straps snugly down over their
thick coats in such hot weather.

"Right, Cap." they all replied and they scattered.

Hank and Steven locked into further planning immediately.

The woman blurted out actively when she overheard the
part about Kelly going after her daughter. "Please, find her. 
Ohmyg*d. Her name's Alex."

"Alex?" Cap asked. "Chet, you heard that?"

"Yeah, Cap." he shouted, flying into his gear and a 
search rope tied to the engine in record time. "Are you
covering my rope?"

"Yes."

"I was so stupid.." the woman gasped. "Why didn't I
expect a bolt to hit the road.. I.."

"A bolt? Bolt of what?" Gage glanced up from where 
he was carefully examining the mother.

"Heat lightning." Captain Stanley said from nearby.
"It's what started this fire. Just look at that tree. It's
peeling like a piece of rotten fruit." he pointed.

"It was s-so.. loud.." the woman sobbed. "I lost control 
of the car and crashed into the rocks at the edge of 
the road."

"All right. All right.." Roy soothed. "Don't worry about
your daughter. We'll find her. Just start concentrating
on yourself, ok?  Try to calm down. You're breathing 
a little too fast and you're hyperventilating. Just try to
relax."

The woman fought to obey, clutching at Roy's jacket.

"Do you hurt anywhere? How's your
back and neck?" DeSoto asked her while Johnny got
a BP off her arm carefully. 

"Uh,...they're o...uh, ok.. I think."

"No pain here?" Roy said palpating around her head and 
around her neck after he checked out her eyes with
a penlight.

The woman shook her head. "I'm fine. *cough* Listen,
forget about me. I have to go find Alex..!" she
tried to rise. All three of them restrained her.

"We are. We are.." Roy insisted."We have someone already 
doing that. Now you're going to have to calm down a bit and 
let us finish checking you out. Ok?"DeSoto spoke soothingly.
"If you try not to panic, you'll feel a lot better."

------------------------------------------------------
Chet felt like he was the only one in the world inside
the smoky canyon. He felt the drag of the rope
bite into his waist as he yanked it over brush and shrubs
as he called out. "Alex?! Can you hear me?" 
Already, the air mask dangling about his neck weighed 
a ton as he shoved through gnarling masses of dried canyon
rushes and oriented himself downridge. ::If I were running
from danger. Where would I go?:: he thought. Then his
eyes swept into the shadowy trees. ::Man, I sure hope
she didn't go in there, that's a high place. Totally unsafe
under these clouds.::

Right then, from the very thick copse of eucalyptus trees
he was studying, Chet heard a frightened shout. "Mom!?
Where are you?"

Chet shouted back. "She's over here by me! Fire 
Department!" Then Chet saw a glimpse of white come
towards him. ::It's her!:: he thought excitedly. "This way
honey. This way! Come on!"

Just as quickly, a tremendous jolt of lightning from the
parched sky shot down into the child's thicket in front of Chet,
knocking him to his knees. Chet reflexively threw an arm over
his eyes as the bolt's thunder deafened him and rattled
through his very bones. It died away immediately and
was not repeated. But the angry snarl of new fire
crackled into slow life in the canopy above him and flaming
sparks rained down on top of him as fresh smoke rose
to strangle him with its sharp bite. He hastily put on his mask,
crawling forward. "Alex?!"

There was no reply. Chet Kelly no longer knew which
direction he was heading in. But the image of the girl's
figure was still blazed in his mind's eye. Something made
Chet redirect to his left and uphill. His gloves hit clothing.
"Alex?"

She moaned where she sprawled on the ground, half
unconscious. Chet could smell burned flesh coming
from her arm. ::She's been hit?:: he wondered.

Kelly whipped off his air mask and gave it to her, coughing
in the growing smoke. "It's all right. I got you. Just hang on.
I'm taking you to your mother."  He crouched low
enough over the child to monitor her while his other
hand dug into his pocket for his HT. "HT 51 to Engine 51.
I found her. Help me back! And send a hose down my line.
There's another hot spot!"

##They're on their way. Do you need a stokes?## Cap's voice
acknowledged.

"Negative.. Just take up my slack..!" Chet answered back.

##10-4, pal ! I'm taking up your line now.##

Chet snatched up the girl into his arms just as he felt his
rope tighten and pull him along by the waist, guiding him
up the hill. He kept eyes on the girl's chest as she
breathed in the clearer air inside the mask as he struggled
with her to the top and the road. Once he saw vehicle red,
he shrugged off his bottle and her mask and sank down
onto a curb by the squad's fender, shouting. "Cap! I'm up!
Get Johnny over here! I think the lightning got her real bad!"

He lowered the girl to the road just as she went limp.

"Sh*t. Sh*t. Sh*t..." Chet murmured, getting a grip around
her jawline, feeling for the presence of a carotid and assuring
that she had a clear airway. He could feel how cool and diaphoretic 
she seemed despite the heat. A pulse was there, thudding 
irregularly. He slipped a hand to her stomach as he listened at her
mouth. "Alex... Can you hear me?" She twitched but failed 
to breathe adequately to Chet's liking. "Come on, Cap! Gage!
I'm over here! Get the O2 on the fly!"

Alex's lips starting turning blue.  Kelly carefully tipped back the 
girl's head more where they lay and gave her a breath of his 
own, followed by another.

Cap shot out of the smoke, dropping Chet's lifeline and
crouched by them. "She got a heartbeat?" he asked
when he saw Chet doing mouth to mouth.

"Yeah."

Together, Cap and Chet moved off the parking lot curb
and stretched the girl out flat and Stanley shoved her
white shirt up out of the way, baring her chest so they
could monitor her ventilations better. He wrapped his
hands around her torso, feeling the effect of Chet's
efforts.

After giving her another two breaths, Chet heard and felt
the girl start to cough weakly and he lifted his mouth
away as her ribcage began to seesaw slightly.

Johnny came running through the murky haze with
the clattering oxygen apparatus and the biophone.
"Whatcha got?"

"I think that last bolt grazed her." Kelly
replied. "She quit breathing for a bit. Now, she's 
dyspneic."

"Let me at her.." Gage said. He hastily set a
pediatric demand valve over her face and gave her
a couple of rich shots into her lungs. After three,
he felt her actively resist his aid, against the flow, 
and he said. "Doing good now. Take this from me. 
Looks like she's taking draws on her own."

Kelly slid to her head position, wiping the sweat off
his brow as he took over her airway care.

Cap glanced at Johnny. "Need me?"

"Nah.. she's stable enough. Don't think she'll
crash now." Gage said, yanking his stethoscope 
from around his neck to his ears so he could listen 
to her breath sounds. To himself, he was glad
the smoke was thick enough to keep the girl's
mother from seeing her daughter yet.

Cap then rose and..........

------------------------------------

Photo :   Cap holding a woman in comfort.

Photo: A scrub brush fire set by lightning.

Photo: Gang on a rural gravel road by the vehicles.

Photo : Chet with a girl victim on a curb by the squad.

Gif: An oxygen resuscitator.

Photo: Johnny with the biophone.

***********************************
 From :Sam Iam <lafddispatcher@yahoo.com>  
 Subject : [EmergencyTheaterLive] Oh For A Drop of Rain...  
 Date :Sun, 6 Apr 2003 11:56:34 -0700 (PDT)  
   
.....took a good look around him. ::This is just a
two point fire from the looks of it. Just here
by the car and then down in the grove where the
little girl was found.::

John gave him a fast glance briefly, a barest 
flickering of the eyes as he checked the little
girl for signs of lightning strike.

Cap offered a token nod. "There's no way I'm gonna
let that blaze surround us. Not if I can help it." Hank
told him.

Johnny and Kelly both grinned while they worked 
to assess Alex's true condition. Gage replied,
Cap, it's more like YOU needing to relax. We trust ya, "
he joked. "It's all that desert dry brush out there that's
gotta listen to ya now. Like we do everyday.."

Cap's returning smile was scant. "How's she doing?"

Johnny's smile dropped away in a flash when 
he got his final blood pressure reading. "Ask me
that again in two minutes..all right?" And Gage
spoke close to the girl's ear around the oxygen 
mask. "Alex.. honey, you're doing just fine. 
Your momma's coming any minute to be with ya.
Ok.. so don't worry about that. We got ya here 
with us now safe and sound." 

Watching, Hank was touched on a deep level. He didn't 
know Johnny talked to his unconscious patients like
that, on a one to one, being so personal. ::Maybe I just 
never noticed that before, being always too busy directing
a fire scene to see him do it.::

Captain Stanley's thoughts were disrupted when Steven
Carter jogged up to them from the direction of
both engines. He spoke quietly to just Cap.

Hank noticed that both Steven's gloves were wet.
"Steve?" he asked. "You took up a hose.. Is everything all
right?"

"No. The first fire's getting away from our men. We've gotta
move out."

Hank gripped his HT even tighter in worry. "Our victim
can't be moved yet, she's only just been pulled out of
respiratory arrest."

"Sorry, Hank. Tell that to the fire."

In reply, the bright hazy skies spit heavy heat lightning out
at them in an angry rumble, very close above them, making
both captains duck reflexively.

Johnny and Kelly, too, both hunched over the burned little
girl protectively, eyeing the sky uncomfortably. Chet voiced
one word. "Cap?"

"Do it. Immediate evac. The fire's winning. So we're not waiting
on the ambulance. You and Gage have five minutes to do what
you've got to do. Then I want her packaged up to be taken outta
here."

Chet nodded, and he relayed Hank's orders to Johnny when
he had a pause on the phone verbally.

The smoke only got thicker, and there was a subtle change
causing the hair at the nape of Cap's neck to suddenly prickle
in warning. The smell of pungent burning meadow had turned
tarry and Cap's eyes suddenly stung in searing steam as 
a powerful wind gust swept new ash and embers into
his face. ::That's blacktop on fire.:: he thought, even
though he couldn't see it. ::Aww, nuts.. We don't even have
THAT little time?..:: He gave a shout. "Everybody! Masks on! 
No exceptions! We've a fireline making its way up. It's
hit the road already. I want all hose teams to find that 
new phalange of burn and snuff it out. If we get trapped in 
here, there's no hope for us on having any air to breathe. 
Airway protect those victims!..These fumes are only going
to get worse."

Steven Carter of 36's lifted his HT. "L.A., this is Engine
36. What's the status of Chopper Nine? Our fire situation
is escalating more rapidly than we realized. We've fire 
on the road. We need an immediately path cleared 
along the way out of here, a.s.a.p! Respond a full
four company brush assignment."

##10-4, 51. ## There was a pause in their HQ 
transmission. ##Chopper Nine has made a 
pickup at the reservoir and will rendevous to your
location in five minutes.## dispatch answered.

"10-4. Engine 36 out." and Steven pocketted his
HT. "There you have it, Hank. It's a scoop and run 
afterwards."

"We'll be ready.." Cap replied about his paramedics
responsibilities and the extra duty his station had
to manage them.

The two captains separated to go watch over
their own company's activities while they waited
for their ace in the hole, Chopper Nine, to come 
zeroing in. Cap aimed one of the engine mirrors up
into the sun as a reflector point to catch the pilot's
eye. ::It's not like there's a ton of metal beyond
the chrome on our vehicles. He'll spot us just fine..::
he reasoned. Already, the sun was lighting up the
speeding, dancing black, gray and white smoke arching
over them from the canyon, fanned by the rising storm
winds.  



As Cap approached the engine, Alex's mother shot
to her feet, tearing out of the grasp of the fireman
sitting with her, monitoring her D tank's O2 delivery.
He started after her but Hank waved him still when
she rushed over into Cap's arms for reassurance.
"Did you find my baby? Is she all right?" she sobbed.
"Please tell me.."

Hank supported her and grasped her firmly by the
shoulders. "She's with my men and we're going
over to her right now.." He hefted up the woman's
oxygen tubing and the apparatus from 36's man 
and he lifted it under an arm. "This way.. but first, we're 
switching you to a mask so this smoke won't bother 
you so much." He pulled down the mother's cannula around
her neck and he detached it. Stanley got her into a 
nonrebreather mask. "Doing this cause the air's a bit dirty
over there." He ripped away the cannula's female end
off the regulator port and connected up her new mask's line. 
"Ok. I've got it. Ready?"

The woman fiddled with the oxygen, getting used to it.
"What about you? There's only one mask here."

"You're forgetting this.." Hank said with a smile,
lifting his air mask dangling on its connection 
from his air bottle. "I've got one right here."
And he moved his helmet long enough to put it
on. "Ok, I'm set. Let's go." he said through its face
piece, and he led the woman over to where he could
just barely make out the squad's outline in the smoke.
He led her to where they were going well away from
any swirling ember clouds to keep her flowing oxygen 
from living up to its extreme fire risk tendency.

He was more than ready for the woman to try and
break out of his grip when they got within eye
contact of Kelly's scene.

"Alex!!" her mother shouted, almost darting forward.

Cap hung onto her. "Hold it.. It's ok.  It's ok..Easy there."
he encouraged in a stream. "Alex's just out like that 
because some lightning landed near her."

"Lightning?!"  

Cap fought with keeping his grip on her again
firmly.."My men are taking good care of her.."

"Ohmyg*d. Isn't that fatal? Is she all right? 
Alex! Can you hear me honey? What are
you doing? She needs to be in a hospital!"

"Easy, easy.. Maam?.. Just listen to me..all right?
Alex IS getting treated ..RIGHT NOW ..and there's a
doctor on the other end of that phone line you see 
my paramedic holding. It's like already being in an 
emergency room. There's nothing they can't do 
now, that's normally done by a doctor, concerning 
any definitive care your daughter might need. Think 
of my men as extensions of that same ER, who just
happen to be already HERE."

Captain Stanley felt the woman in his grasp stop
trembling and she quieted into a levelheadedness
immediately as his words of reason finally sank in.
Roy, next to them, saw that he wasn't needed to
help Cap out with her and he crouched down next
to his partner to learn about the little girl's status 
from him.

Hank let the woman sink down by Chet where he
was crouched inside his own air mask, keeping the 
positive pressured one over the little girl's face.
Kelly was feeling happy with her respiration status so he
said. "Here, mama. Wanna help? Just keep this O2
over her face like I'm doing.." and he guided her hands 
to the proper places on mask and jaw smoothly.
"That's right....Set your hands,...just....like..that."

Alex's mother began to burble. "But I don't kn--"

"You're doing fine, maam. Just watch me.
Keep holding this tight over her nose and mouth to 
keep all this smoke away from your daughter.   
Johnny will show you how to punch a button on this 
valve here if she needs a little more help later on, but 
only when he tells you too, all right? She's getting 
enough passively for right now by it just sitting here 
like this. Got it ok?"

"Uh, y- yeah.." she muffled through her O2 mask.

"Good. What you're doing is absolutely perfect." 
Chet said tightening the straps on his own mask
to cut down the number of times he was coughing 
from the building smoke. Then he dashed away to
get a stokes for the little girl's rush evac.
 
Alex's mother immediately calmed down, as Cap
knew she would. Chet usually never missed on 
guessing what was up whenever Cap led a parent 
close to the paramedics' work space. Kelly had
a gift for alway inventing physical things for them 
to do that didn't get in the way of a victim's
patient care.

Johnny delivered his next data set to Dr. Brackett
on the phone, shouting so he could be heard
through his covering air supply faceplate. "Rampart.
She's responding on 15 liters of 02. She's got
perforated eardrums and positively ID'd dendrictic burns 
on the upper aspect of her left shoulder. I am getting 
that pulse rate I gave ya only apically due to vasospasms."

He watched Roy bundle a plastic shock wrap around
Alex and tape her arm onto an IV board.

##10-4, 51. Those meds I ordered should calm
her down parasympathetically in a few more minutes.
Continue the IV and strap her in on a backboard with a 
cervical collar. That active resuscitation's the best 
thing for her now, until you get her in here. Monitor 
her vital signs carefully and check her over again for any 
sign of fractures. She may have incurred some due to 
the force of the strike she took, even though it's clear
to me through your findings, that it wasn't a direct hit.##

"10-4, Rampart."

##And 51, I want you to send me a strip so I can see
how her cardiac functi---##

"Uh, doc. We can't right now. We're.." and Johnny lowered
his voice so the mother didn't overhear him. "..we're
in danger of getting pinned down by a brush fire. We
gotta evac her out first."

##By chopper, Johnny?##

Cap got Johnny's attention about his next plan of action
by nonverbally pointing to the squad.

"Uh, negative doc. Our chopper's just a water tanker."

##10-4 on that. Uh, what's your ambulance's ETA?##

"We don't h--"

##...have one for the same reason.##Brackett sighed
in frustration.. ##I see.. Radio in as soon as possible
on any LOC alteration en route when you HAVE a route 
or any other detrimental change in her vitals signs. 
Rampart base, signing out.##

"Squad 51."  Gage replied by narrowing his eyes in
concentration and he flung down the phone and sealed
it up into its box swiftly along with the medical gear
he didn't need right away. These he handed off
to Cap to stow back into the squad that Marco was
now backing up towards them.

The little girl's mother looked up. "What's happening?
Why is that fireman pulling up that fire truck near us?"

Cap spoke with a big smile through his maskplate.
"That rescue squad's gonna be yours and Alex's
ticket outta here. See that stokes, er.. metal
bed that Roy is getting set up? Well we're going
to give your daughter a lift on top of there
while you ride along with them in that cab,
to Rampart Hospital."

"Alex is going to ride on the roof?"

Kelly chuckled. "Yes, maam, with either Johnny
or Roy sitting up there with her. You see, those
bars will keep the stokes from sliding around
once we get her loaded up. Here, take my radio
and you can talk to the paramedic once we're
ready. Know how to use a walkie talkie?"

"Y-Yes, I do.."

"Here you go.." Kelly said acting calm as a
camel. Inside his boots, though, his toes were 
curling tighter than his hair.


Johnny's face erupted into a broad smile.
::I could just kiss Chet. That was ingenius!
She'll keep calm and cool the whole way now.::
"Ok.. " Gage said brightly, keeping a hidden hand
on Alex's chest under her yellow blanket 
so he could feel her continued breathing and 
heartbeat without pause. "Roy my partner here's
all done getting her into this collar of hers and onto
the board. Ready to lift Roy?"

"Yeah.."

"Ok, Alley Oop." and Gage and Kelly and Cap and
Roy lifted the small pediatric backboard and the unconscious
child and nestled her into the stokes. Again they picked up
Alex as a team with that. Two of 36's firemen followed with
the gear boxes and 51's defibrillator. Soon, Alex
was safely on board the squad's roof deck. Gage climbed
on board and sat with the biophone, butt perched on a
yellow air store bottle. He hefted his HT to show 
the girl's mother that he had his for anything she
wanted to say to him in route. Then Cap gave her
a spare helmet Marco got from the engine for her
to wear and they piled on board.

"Kelly, go with Roy and his passenger, all right pal?"

"Right, Cap." Chet answered. He knew he was going 
along in case the girl soured into V-Fib due to the jostling
she was going to have to take while in transport. 
::At least the squad's going to be a lot less bumpier than
the engine would have been for this.:: Kelly sighed mentally.

The men, calmly loading the mom and girl, made it a point
not to look up the road where the fire was eating the
pavement into ruin inch by rapid inch, nearer and nearer,
ahead of them.

::Where's our water drop?:: Cap thought. He refrained
from asking L.A. for an ETA on it because Alex's mother now
had an HT. He contented himself with rounding up their remaining
trailing hose for their rapid getaway attempt and affirming Steve
Carter's confirmation that he also, was getting his men
and engine out of there in a strategic retreat.

Cap cut away the lifeline Chet had used, still tied to the engine's 
bumper, and left it lying in the dust on the pavement. 
Then he was the last man on an engine. 

Truck 36 hit its airhorn to inform him that they, too
were ready to roll.

Hank eyed the wall of fire blocking their escape route and
wondered if they really could make it by charging through when
Steve came on the line. ##Engine 36 to Engine 51. I've got
an idea. I've got my engineer aloft in our water cannon. He's
going to provide a water curtain for your rescue squad.
Have it roll between, with us two situated at its front and 
back. My man will keep a nozzle fog on your victim to 
protect her and your man while we're moving through the 
firezone.##

Cap thumbed his radio mike derisively. "Let's do it..
We can't wait. Are you set?"

##That's affirmative.. Just give the word and warn your
medic about what we're up to.##

"10-4.." Hank said, using his mirror to watch the bucket
on Engine 36's back rise just enough to clear its own
cab like a shovel on a snorkle. ::Oh, boy. Gage is going to 
kill me for this.:: He picked up his HT.
"Engine 51 to Squad 51.." he hailed.

##Go ahead, Engine 51.##

"Looks like it's going to rain in thirty seconds from the looks
of it.  Make your victim waterproof. We're breaking out!"
Hank yelled.

Gage didn't even hit his call back, "What?!" he said
immediately getting it and glancing over his shoulder
to the looming water bucket now set and locked
overhead from engine thirty six. It was hanging only 
about eight feet above him. He got a salute from 
the man on board, signing a non verbal countdown 
from seven.. ::...when his hose's gonna fire. Who
thought of that?.. It's absolutely brilliant! And here
I was afraid that we were gonna haveta cook a little:: 
Johnny kept his grip on the little girl's body and wrapped 
her up around the mask with her sheet. Then he hastily
created an umbrella with a row of crow bars, axes and 
jimmies with a spare tarp over Alex's face and himself.
Then he gave the bucket man a thumbs up.

Hose water began to rain down on them, adjusting, until it
was just a dense coning mist and then Johnny felt a lurch
as Roy carefully matched Engine 51's speed and course
as they crept down the road towards the raging inferno 
whose flames were now as high as the tops of wheel wells.

Roy gripped his steering wheel, peering around his moving 
windshield wipers inside the driving artificial rain, as Stoker 
paused the Ward right at the very edge of the burning road, 
waiting for Cap's go ahead. He and Chet gave Alex's mother 
smiles of encouragement around the fear they were really 
feeling.

The woman just blinked and talked on the radio.
"H-Hello.. Johnny?  How's Alex?"

Gage heard the mother from under his improvised umbrella
and he lifted his plastic wrapped HT to his lips. 
"Not a drop on her, maam. The weather's fine." he quipped,
trying to keep his sense of humor. In the dark under the tarp,
his eyes were on Alex's lit up EKG screen he had going and
his stethoscope was in his ears as he monitored her inspiration
effectiveness by sound. He slipped in a nasal airway for extra
control as he spoke. "We're holed up solid and snug. Don't 
you worry." ::I'm trying not to.:: a little voice whispered
unbidden in his head as he repositioned the demand valve
back over her face to keep out the smoke that was still 
getting in. "Alex and I are ready to rock."

Kelly saw mama's eyes fill, in touched gratefulness, at
Gage's brave attempt at humor about their situation.

Ahead of them, in the cab, Cap bit his lip and looked
at Marco and Stoker. He lamely attempted the same
gallows humor as Gage. "What do ya say? Think Goodyear
tires can stand the temperature of molten asphalt and
fresh fire? We all got em on.."

Stoker's frowning doubt didn't warm his heart one bit.
And the fire before them was growing taller.

Cap and everyone in all three vehicles, except Gage,
looked up into the spiralling columns of smoke for any sign
of Chopper Nine and its precious roadsaving load.

Seconds dragged by as they idled, revving up their nerves and
engines for what was being forced upon them.

Kelly broke the strained pause building in the squad. 
"Say," he said turning to the girl's mother. "Did I tell you 
yet how well transporting folks on truck roofs really works? 
Well there was this one time where Johnny got himself bit
by a rattler...and..I just happen to be with him..And we
didn't even HAVE a squad.."

Roy rolled his eyes at the blooming tale.

Sometime in eternity, Cap lifted his microphone and he said.....

------------------------------------------

Photo: John Roy strapping in Alex onto a long board.

Photo: Gage with a stokes victim on top of the squad. 

Photo : A canyon brushfire in daylight.  

**************************************
Date: Thu, 10 Apr 2003 19:20:15 +0100 (BST) 
From: "Katherine Bird" <kathbird01@yahoo.co.uk>  
Subject:  Fire and Water.. 

 Acknowledgments to Donald Lee, Retired LACoFD Captain about
Engine trivia on 51's truck abilities via a snail mail sent flyer
and for sending a replica of Johnny and Roy's paramedic patch 
to the theater hosts to give all of us further encouragement
to keep on writing in the spirit of Emergency.  :)
 
 -----------------------------------------------------------

......"Engine 51, to Engine 36 and Squad 51... Hold your
position.. " Cap said, yelling through his air bottle mask.
He ignored the heavy weight of his loose air bottle rattling on the
metal grate of the floor of the Ward beneath where he sat
from the rough idling of the engine due to the thinning air surrounding
them. "We're going to give the drop three more minutes to happen."

Stoker did what he could to keep the Ward running despite 
the lean combustion conditions growing under her hood from the
proximity of the low fire surrounding them. His bottle was firmly 
on a hook in the wall of the cab, leaving his feet and hands free 
to coax the pumper's clutch away from killing the motor and his 
facemask was hiding his emotions from view as he gripped the 
large steering wheel in front of him tightly, waiting for the word
"go..".

##S- Squad 51, 10-4.## came Roy's nervous voice. 

##Affirmative..## came a stronger, more experienced reply
from Engine 36 behind Cap's. Carter immediately added more
to soothe all listening ears, including L.A.'s Sam Lanier, who 
was now stuck in the waiting-for-resolution silence mode. 
::He's undoubtedly chewing on a few pencil erasers right 
about now over his inability to direct better air cover to us 
before we fry.:: Carter realized. He hid his private thoughts 
with a cheeriness he did not feel. ##No problems here, Hank. 
My bottled man aloft in the bucket's fine and his nozzle line's fog 
is still doing its job over your paramedic and victim. Looks like 
things are still plenty cool enough for them out there##

Mike Stoker grumbled. "We've got an eighth of a mile of hose,
a thousand gpm pump with a five hundred gallon tank full of 
water, just sitting here." he said in frustration, "And we can use 
none of it..?" It wasn't a stab on Cap's decision to try to run 
and save their rears at all. Hank knew it for what it was. 
An outburst given inside feelings of utter helplessness, vented in 
anger. He didn't even glance over at Mike, keeping his eyes
on the sky.

"You got that right. We're stuck staying mobile, Mike." Marco 
shrugged nervously. "Can't be mobile if we've hoses strung 
out behind us. Only the snorkel can move and use water that way 
with her bucket.." Lopez said trying to sound calm. Stoker didn't 
have the heart to tell Marco that he knew that fact better
than anyone. Marco tried some levity and he spoke over the 
tandem HT. "Say gang, we could always roll down all our 
windows and try to spit on the fire from here.."

Hank tried to grin, but felt numbness twist on his face instead
making him lift his radio. "A minute forty more seconds.... 
Stand by, gang.. Keep watching the sky..." he said through his 
handy talkie.

--------------

Roy jolted in his seat when a burning tumble weed impacted
his closed driver's window.  He saw the bucket stream
immediately move to drown it out in his side mirror. He
took a deep breath through his mask and said, "Chet, the fire's
getting too close. Better turn off that O2 on her now. The 
oxygen's building up too high in the cab for safety. Go to sharing
your air. If you run low, we'll use mine between the three of us."

"Right.." Chet said. He pulled off his helmet and calmly
began to share his mask with his passenger, holding his
breath whenever she took any of hers off it, before taking 
it back for himself to use. 

"But what about my daughter and your *cough* partner? 
She's still got pure 02 on!" Alex's mother gasped.

Roy smiled reassuringly at her. "He'll discontinue that for manual 
air. Probably right about now. They'll manage just fine, maam." 
he saw the mom's skin begin to pale in fear. "Hold that mask 
completely against your face when you breathe in, all right? 
Then this heavy smoke won't irritate you at all."
  
Kelly and Roy both saw her nod in frightened obedience.

---------------

Up on top, Johnny began to hear the angry crackling of open 
flames reaching the road near the squad. "Whoa.. That's getting
a little too close for comfort.." he mumbled. He quickly shut off the 
oxygen feed that was leading to Alex's resuscitator and threw 
its face valve aside. Gage pulled off his helmet and unstrapped 
his air mask from his face. He sucked in a good lungful from it.
He paused only long enough to seal the girl's mouth up with 
a hand before offering his breath of clear air to her through her
nose carefully, timing what he gave her to when she attempted
an inhalation. He kept up the pattern, giving her air taken 
from his mask through his mouth, keeping both his eyes 
screwed protectively shut against the acrid smoke that was 
now doing its best to make them water fiercely. Even the 
unconscious girl's cheeks were wet with tears.  

In Johnny's lap, the wrapped HT crackled in crisp warning. 
##Gage..?## asked Hank..

Johnny looked up from where he was curled around Alex's head
and he lifted his HT to his face, shouting from underneath the 
heavy tarp that was still getting a welcome pounding of water from 
36's elevated bucket line. "I know. I know. The fire's near. 
I've already shut my O2 down! We're still fine..I've figured out a 
way to keep the smoke from her." then he asked another question
changing tact. "How are you doing down there, Mama?" he said, 
giving Alex yet another following breath of air just as her chest 
rose with one of its own. "Alex is just napping up here." he 
said, keeping his eyelids shut to spare himself eye irritation. 
He used a finger to keep tabs on her carotid while he continued 
being a clean air source for her. On a sudden idea, Johnny 
taped the girl's mouth shut with an IV strip to free his 
other hand to monitor her chest movements. ::I can always 
tear this off if she gets sick on me.::

## I'm f-fine, Mr. Gage. You guys work like this often?## the 
mother quipped, trying for humor. Johnny could hear Chet 
cue-ing her to take another pull from his mask. 

"All the time. No sweat. Er,...figuratively speaking." Gage 
grinned into his radio, wiping the sweat dripping down his
face with a sleeve from the fire zone's heat. He gave
Alex another smoke free breath through her nose slowly 
to keep her from getting any of his air into her stomach.

##Mr. Chet just told me about the wild ride you took a few 
summers ago.##

"Oh, you mean when I got snake bit? Yeah, believe
me, I got deja vu visiting me something fierce right about
now. But listen, only the snake's got bad memories of that 
day , I assure you. We ARE going to get outta here. It's
only a matter of when that will be. No big deal." he chuckled.  
Alex twitched, making Johnny open his eyes to squint through 
stinging smoke at the EKG monitor. ::Tachycardia. D*mn. 
She's getting shocky despite her IV.:: He turned up its flow 
to wide open. Johnny began to breathe FOR her, as well as 
with her after that, at an increased rate. He went on laying 
down a calming transmission despite his change of treatment. 
"Kinda comfortable up here. Lotsa room.." he quipped. 
"And the view's.." he broke off, hearing a thrumming 
vibration ripple the air and felt the same against the tarp lying 
across his shoulders. "...great! Cap! Heads up.. It's the 
chopper at last. I hear it!!" 

Right then 36's bucket man thumbed through on the HT
frequency. ##HT 36 to the engines and the squad. The air crew's 
here, arching in at our ten o'clock. I can just see them above the 
smoke. They are starting their dumping run.##came the fireman's 
shout, muffled thickly by radio technology and his bottled air mask.

##10-4, bucket HT.## both Caps and Roy acknowledged.

The arriving helicopter's rotor blades buzzed almost vengefully 
over the firestorm raging its edge over the road in front of the 
three red fire vehicles. It swept down low over the engines
with a brief greeting waggle. ##51 and 36, This is Chopper 
Nine. Making the drop in ten, nine, eight,....##

"Go!. Go! Stoker! Move it!" Cap shouted as he hit the cab's
dashboard. "We gotta time it to get exactly where that falls 
to spare our tires. Anything we get will only hold for a short bit. 
The cross wind's too strong. More fire will move in instantly 
after the chopper lifts away!" Hank shouted to his engineer 
driver. 

Mike Stoker pushed the pedal to the metal and Engine
51 lurched forward, spinning ash behind it.

Cap shouted into his radio. "Roy, go! We're in motion.
Gage, hang on!"

Gage heard Cap's urgent holler and grabbed onto
the squad's roof rail above him and a bottle bracket 
as he continued to stay positioned over Alex's face to 
aid her breathing. "Here we go, Alex. We're getting 
outta here." he coughed before leaning over and
imparted to her another shared breath.

Time seemed to stand still for all of them.

-------------------

The brush fire writhed like a furious beast under the
sudden chemical onslaught released by the helicopter
sweeping above it. A rain of retardants and lake water
bit deep into the block of flames on the road and
completed just before Engine 51, the Squad, and Engine
36 sped through the place that had been tricked chemically
into turning from raw plasma to just a hissing morass of 
earth stained ground steam.

Walls of flame and rolling alighted tumble weeds shot around
them, as Chopper Nine's backwash and dump shoved the inferno
away from the vehicles. Then flames, newly pushed by the 
high storm winds still roaring above the valley, rallied, and 
suddenly, the three speeding trucks seemed trapped by the 
raw heart of the wildfire's flames once again. 

Their bid for the canyon's rim and safety was instantly
compromised when their surrounding smoke turned midnight 
black, forcing the fleeing fire companies to slow in their escape. 
Mike Stoker suddenly couldn't see the road as a 
suffocating blanket of ebony ash covered them 
in a thick pall as the wind stilled. He was forced to
hit his brakes and the engine's wheels began to bake 
on the superheated earth and shattered bones of the fire.
::No, No.. Can't stop. The tires will melt down. But I can't 
go fast enough either..:: Mike warred with himself silently.
::The smoke's blinding me.::

A blast of dust and sand filled his windscreen right 
at that moment. ##Engine 51, I am on your fender 
as a guide. Follow our lifting wire.## Chopper Nine 
notified them.

Just ahead, Mike Stoker could see a wedge cable
and bright orange basket buoy dragging along the 
road right in front of his bumper through the inky
murk. It was tantilizingly close.

He glued his eyes to it and didn't look away, trusting
instinct and the helicopter's pilot to lead them out
of the growing fire.


-------------------

Engine 36 screeched to a halt when they lost sight of 
Squad 51's tail. The bucket man barely hung on
when his truck skidded to a halt in the ash and soot. He
yelled down to his captain. ##You're all right. Keep going 
towards twelve o'clock! You're fifty feet from them. 
Nowhere near colliding. Hurry.. Gage's out from under 
my water.##

------------------

Ahead of engine 51, the chopper buoy on the ground
was eaten up by a wall of flame. Stoker gave out a cry
of alarm and warning as he flattened the gas to
the boards. "Going in!"

Engine 51 was consumed by fire.. 

-----------------------------------------------

The incessant boom and rush of 36's watering 
mist ceased.

Johnny Gage threw the tarp aside inch by analyzing
inch as he lifted his masked head cautiously to see 
why Engine 36 had fallen behind.
 
They were gone. All he could see were flames behind him..
and more black smoke. The sun was practically 
nonexistent overhead and it dimmed more, ominously, 
throwing Johnny into a surrealistic world of night and 
glowing embers.

Johnny's mouth went dry when he looked over the 
squad's hood towards his station's engine. They were 
charging, full reds on, through a fire wall taller than the 
engine. "Oh, d*mn..." he whispered and he rewrapped the 
tarp back tight around himself and Alex, before he knotted
into a ball of protection, sealing off her nose with a grip, 
just before Roy too, drove high speed, into what felt like pure 
unadulterated living h*ll.

Superheated air flooded around Johnny and he could hear
some of his hair sizzling where a lock of it stuck through a hole
in the old tarp. He slapped out the fire started there 
with his free hand, pressing his air mask as hard as he could
over his nose and mouth to keep out the burning atmosphere. 
He looked down. Alex's involuntary chest muscles rippled under 
his arm. She was fighting to breathe around her blocked off 
air passages. ::Not yet. You're gonna fry your lungs big time
if I let go. And I will too if I take this mask off right now.::

John subconsciously started counting the seconds Alex was
going without air. That number had reached about fifty five when
Gage felt the resumption of 36's cannon hose water against them
through their tarp. Johnny threw aside the smoking, partially melted
wrap and he let the rain of water drench him and Alex both in
a desperate attempt to cool off their skins and the scorching
metal that was almost searingly hot to the touch, around them. 
Johnny opened his eyes. They were in blessedly open air and 
daylight and the horrible unchecked fire was now faltering 
behind them along the road, wind carried, away from their
direction.

Gage coughed and choked, bending over Alex to reassess her 
status, using his body as an umbrella to keep the pouring 
water from reaching Alex's ghostly white face as he let go 
of her nose to let her breathe.  Right then, the water 
cascading around them was shut off and the fireman, manning 
it, shouted in triumph.

-----------------

"Look out!"
Roy stopped the squad on a dime when he realized that both 
the squad's tires had melted in front and that he was riding 
on their bare rims. The force of his emergency stop 
threw all three of them into the windshield. "Sorry. We've
no tires left.."

"It's ok.." Alex's mother and Chet both gasped.

Chet, the girl's mother, and Roy all exclaimed in puzzlement,
when the dust cleared and they saw Chopper Nine circling in 
the air just up ahead, but then they saw it hovering above the road. 
"Why are they landing?" Kelly asked.

"I don't know..  Let's go find out." Roy said without looking
at either one of them, and his voice began rising in alarm.. "Ma'am 
wait here. Kelly I think you'd better come with me.." 

"Right.." Kelly said also, without taking his eyes off where the
exiting pilot was just starting to urgently point. The two of them 
slid out of their seats shedding air bottles and opened the 
squad doors, getting out in confusion. As they watched,
the chopper pilot finally gave up on communicating something
to them and he started instead, a sudden, frantic beelining 
run to his left.

Roy finally saw Engine 51 in the thick underbrush slightly off the 
road. He saw her cab was impacted right up against the hillside
and that all of her tires were melted off and shredded.
The top row of the hose bed was still subtly smouldering.

"Ohmyg*d! Cap! Stoker!?! Marco?" Roy lifted his radio to
his lips as Chet and he bailed the squad's cab and together,
they ran towards the horrific sight. "Squad 51 to Engine 36. 
E51's off the road! Notify L.A and all our responding units!"

He dropped the HT, pushing Kelly on ahead of him urgently. 
"Chet go check em out! I'll be right there! 
I'm going back for Johnny and the girl.." he whispered.  

Kelly ran towards the engine like a shot with a door
pry he had snatched from the squad's side compartment.

---------------------
"Johnny!?" DeSoto cried out, hurtling himself up onto
the back roof of the squad. "You all right?"

He saw Gage ventilating Alex on the demand valve
to ease some blistering cyanosis. "We're ok. She didn't
take in any superheated air. But her cardiac rhythm's-"

"Johnny. Listen to me.."
The tone in Roy's voice shut Johnny up immediately.
"Stoker crashed. I'm going over there! Stay with her!" 
he shouted, leaping back down again.

"What?!"  Gage dropped the demand valve and climbed
up on his knees to peer over the squad's chrome
top bars and cab's roof. He immediately cursed 
himself for his reaction and got right back on Alex, 
snatching up the ventilator again to resume her 02. 
He snatched up his HT. "Cap! Stoker?! Marco? This is 
Squad 51. Respond!"

Another body climbed up the back of the squad, 
looming into view. A singed white crested helmet. 

"Cap?" Johnny queried.

But it wasn't him. It was the silvered haired Carter. "Gage!" 
Steven shouted at him. "We're on it. How are you and 
the girl?"

"Whaa? uh, we're fine. What the h*ll happened to them?"

"Same as you. Blown tires..Only it looks like Stoker
couldn't stop in time. Stay with your victims!"
36's cap ordered. "I don't know details yet!"

"Cap....I--"

"Just do it.. I'll let you know about them as soon as I do..!"
Carter said, jumping down to the ground. He literally flew 
to where Johnny could just barely hear Chet Kelly shouting. 
Gage couldn't make out any words.

Johnny felt a weight impact the squad's roof. He
whirled around on his knees to see 36's bucket man
lightly land the bucket on top of the squad's other roof
strut. The man climbed off of it and leaned over just in
time to help a hysterical Alex's mom up onto 
the roof with an assisting hand from where she
was reaching up to him.

"Alex! Honey? Are you ok?" she sobbed.

Johnny could see the little girl's mother had a fresh cut 
over one cheek that was inexplicable, but it didn't 
immediately register to Johnny's stunned mind. But he 
felt himself answer her. "She's all right. The tarp protected us.." 
He turned to the fireman with him. "Atkins, Alex is breathing, 
but her rate's a little fast. Only ventilate her if she tires. 
I had to keep her from pulling in any heat for a minute 
and she's still recovering from that."

"Right." 36's fireman knelt by the silent child and took
over Johnny's place on Alex's oxygen.

Alex's mom began to sob. "Alex? How is she?
And where are the other firemen? I- I thought they were 
going to get us down from here so we could meet up 
with that ambulance you said was coming.."

That stopped both Johnny and Atkins in a moment.

Atkin's silently mouthed, "She's forgotten about what's 
just happened?" about Engine 51 to Johnny concerning 
her mental status. 

Johnny's mouth just gaped like a fish twice before
he felt himself click into automatic paramedic mode. 
He tried to glance over the squad's roof towards where Roy, Kelly
and Captain Carter had disappeared as the two of them sat
her down on top of the cab. "They've uh,.. they've got 
something to catch up on." he told her distractedly.  "Just uh, 
relax a bit and let me take a look at that cut of yours, ok? 
Do you remember where you are? What's your name?"

"Andrea.."

"Do you know what day this is?"

"Uh.hh" the mother sighed, holding her head. "I'm sorry.
What did you ask me?"

Right then, Alex began to stir and cough and Atkins
lifted away the 02 to see the child opening her eyes.

Mum? Are you there?

Alex's mother didn't seem to hear her.

Mum? the girl repeated, growing scared when her
mother didn't reply back to her. Whats happening?
Why do my clothes stink?

Simultaneously, Engine 36, Squad 51 and Engine
51's radioes all started issuing Sam's voice and tones soon 
followed a frantic report that Captain Carter was giving out to L.A. 
Headquarters. On what it was, Johnny didn't know. None of what
was said had gotten through his shell shock.

Gage swallowed back his own thudding worry for his 
crewmates as he and Atkins efficiently dealt with the 
new medical situations in both mother and daughter.

As Alex's and Andrea's pulse rates began to calm with his 
reassurances, Johnny's began to rise in stress and alarm.
::Are they ok over there? Roy why aren't you HT hailing me?::
Gage's mind screamed out. 

"I can see him." Alex said." No!! " 
The little girl screamed through her simple O2 mask.

Johnny looked down. "Easy. Easy.." he told her.
"What's wrong honey? Y-you can see who?"

Atkins and Gage didn't know what she was talking about.
The little girl's eyes had been bandaged shut for burns
they had found on her eyelids.

"The tall dark haired man in the white and the black hat." she replied, 
sudden fear filling her voice with a ring of truth that chilled them both 
to the bone. 

::Captain Stanley?:: Gage wondered. ::How can she know
what he looks like? She's been unconscious this whole time.::
"Sweety. What--" 

"No!  Kelly, not there.. Somebody! Somebody! Get to him 
fast. He doesn't want to die!" the little girl wailed.

----------------------------------

Photo :  A water chopper buzzing low just in front of
            a speeding engine 51.

Photo : Captain Carter of 36's and Captain Stanley by a burn out.

Photo : A raging brush fire on a hilltop.

*************************************
From :"patti keiper" <pattik1@hotmail.com>  
Subject : The Little Voice..  
Date : Fri, 11 Apr 2003 16:21:26 +0000  
   

Gage rose to his feet, moving to stand directly 
on top of the squad's cab. He eyed the brush until 
he located where he heard commotion from the chopper 
pilot, Roy, Captain Carter and Chet. He made up an 
excuse to issue a radio transmission. "Squad 51 to HT 
51.." he impatiently called out, knowing that by 
procedure, Roy had to answer anything directed at 
him.

##HT 51.## came his partner's reply.

Johnny filled him in. "Roy, need ya back here.
Our adult female patient's showing a Glasgow 
percentage drop with a new orthostatic BP shift."
Gage practically shouted read-between-the-lines
in his tone as he gave his update. ::What's
going on over there, Roy?..Why the silent line?:: 
he punctuated fiercely in his thoughts.  "I'd really 
like a second opinion on the mother's mental 
status for Rampart's next report if you're able."

He jumped back down to the squad's bottle store
niche. Gage studied Andrea's dozing face once 
again, keeping a hand on her right radial pulse. 
He was still considering the odd statements the little 
girl had screamed just a short time ago. As the minutes 
stretched by with no more frantic activity through L.A, 
he began to feel sheepish for becoming alarmed by 
them. 

But some inner sense of nervousness remained. 
Johnny jumped when he felt a tap on the shoulder. 
"Ahhh!!" he said, startling. He spun about in place, 
stumbling over his air bottle that he had abandoned 
at Atkins' feet and came face to face, with Roy. 

"So how ARE they over there?" Gage demanded
of him sharply when his fright had passed.
"Nothing like a little radio silence to torment
all of us over here."

Roy only smiled. "Stoker's got a bruised nose.
And Marco will need to sit on an icepack donut
for a while.. Other than that.." and he shrugged.

Johnny couldn't believe it. "What! That's it?"

"Yep. No one was terribly hurt, pally. Mike just took the
rig into that sandy embankment to stop her
from running away once he felt the tires blow. You
know, sort of like how semi truck trailers sometimes use
those cedar piles on ramps for brake failures up
in the mountains.." DeSoto reasoned. He knelt 
and took another blood pressure on a groggy Andrea,
whom Johnny had arranged supine along the other flat
side of the squad's top. Her O2 mask was back in
place and her feet were raised up onto a resting 
sideways air bottle.. "Hi there...uh.. " DeSoto asked 
the mother. 

"Andrea.." Johnny prompted instantly.

"Andrea.." Roy parroted. "How are you feeling?"  

Andrea didn't open her eyes until Roy gently set
a hand onto her arm. He repeated his question.

"Ummm, kinda funny..." she remarked.

"She's not the only one.. " Johnny muttered under
his breath about how he felt about Alex's 
bizarre ramblings. He decided to chalk them off as 
hypoxia residue and turned up the percentage of
O2 on child's clear oxygen mask. Gage then bent
low to treat and dress the spidery lightning burns 
on Alex's shoulder.

Roy checked the mother's IV and O2 flow. "Ok.. 
My partner tells me you are a little fuzzy on 
recent details. Did you feel this funny way before, 
or after we escaped the wildfire?"

Andrea's eyes wandered from Roy's face 
and she fell to watching the D5W IV dripping
into her arm that Dr. Brackett had ordered.
"What fire?" she said. "Are there more people
hurt besides me?" 

DeSoto's smile fell away and he drew out his
penlight to examine her eyes. For the time being,
he didn't answer Andrea's questions nor inform
her that Alex was nearby to spare the woman
unnecessary stress. Her pupils were fairly equal,
only red and irritated from the smoke she had been
exposed to. He felt along her neck for telltale signs 
of stiffening or tenderness. She didn't react adversely 
to his probing. Nor did Roy find anything but ash when 
he checked out her head once more for signs of injury. 
"Still negative here." he said to Johnny.

"Yep.. So, what do you think?" Gage agreed.

It was only a few seconds before Andrea faded 
enough to want to close her eyes again. Roy watched
her breathing rate. "Don't know yet. The BP's 88 systolic 
and her resp rate IS shallowing. Just like what you've got
written down here." he said. Then he rubbed his chin, 
thinking about what else he could check for. Then he 
had an idea. "Johnny, did you take a BP on her other arm 
for comparison?"

Gage looked up from where he was wrapping 
the child warmly into a dry blanket. Johnny's 
slight look of dismay said it all. "Oops." he 
mouthed silently. Then out loud he said. "I was 
kinda distracted by all the excitement with the 
engine, Roy." he said.

Atkins was still doing his part in keeping the little girl 
awake and oriented by giving her his helmet to feel while 
she waited for her ambulance to arrive."I think we all were."

Roy turned to get his baseline BP. He nodded as he got the 
second reading. "It's different, Johnny. 110 over 84." and 
he slipped into a closer neural exam on Andrea that included 
a babinski's check and a limb movement equality exam. 
Her left side presented as weaker despite Alex volunteering 
that her mother was left handed. Roy noticed that she didn't 
seem able to grip his fingers with any great strength on that 
side nor push down with her left foot normally. His mind started 
churning possibilities. ::Did she get this way from hitting the 
squad's dash when I stopped?:: he wondered. Then he shook 
his head immediately dismissing that angle.. ::That 
facial cut's sitting on the LEFT side and it's minor. It can't 
possibly be the cause of her deficit now. These mis-reactions 
are too global and, well.. old. There's some subtle atrophy in 
her muscles on the effected side. Wait a minute. Maybe her 
symptoms are tied to a pre-existing condition that the fire 
exacerbated. That would explain why we didn't find anything 
grossly wrong with her until now.::

Roy checked the woman's pockets for ID. He found a wallet 
in her pants and he leafed through its credit card section. 
::Bingo.:: The third card he turned over was one outlining 
a handwritten course of treatment for brain cancer. It had 
her name on it giving directions to a medical clinic with a 
familiar date marked down. "Found it." he said to Johnny. 
"She's got a history of cancer. A tumor on the brain." he 
whispered, showing Johnny the card. "This is an appointment 
reminder about a chemo treatment series, scheduled to 
start today.." he said softly. 

Johnny looked up in sympathy. "No wonder she
was up here in the hills. I know I wouldn't want
to face that kind of thing on such a beautiful summer
day. Makes perfect sense . Most likely, they were going on 
a picnic or something just to forget about things for a while
when the storm came and caused their accident."

Roy picked up the phone receiver and updated Dr. Brackett
on what they had discovered. Kel gave them instructions on
how to make the mother more comfortable and he asked
for the ambulance ETA. "Rampart, L.A. reports its ETA as
seven minutes." 

##10-4, 51.# Kel replied.

DeSoto and Gage both looked up as arriving fire crews
rushed on past their scene giving encouraging blasts
from their air horns as they sped by to deal with the
expanding canyon fire.  Johnny grinned when he
saw the company that was stopping for their crashed 
engine call. It happened to be Stone's.

Charlie and Gil leaped out of their rescue squad to
assist 51's. Gil gave a low whistle at the sorry condition
of the squad as he and his partner jogged up with their
gear and replacement 02. "You fellas medium rare or
well done?" he quipped.

"Charred.." Gage said. "These two are stable. Histories
and treatments are on the notepad." he said giving it
to him from his pocket. "You relieving us?"

"Yeah." Charlie said. "Go rest up. We'll get them down
from there for ya after we switch over to our equipment
and we'll bring em in for ya since your wheels are gone."
And he laughed at his own joke.

He broke it off when Roy and Johnny didn't smile.
He cleared his throat self consciously before changing
the subject. "Are you ok, Johnny? You look kinda peaked."

"Took some heat and smoke. Nothing major. Somebody had
to ride shotgun up top. We had two too many. Oh, and
watch the girl. I had to block off her air for the worst
of the trip out for about a minute total."

"Gotcha." and the two medics efficiently took over for
Johnny and Roy's scene.

Captain Stone wandered over to them from his rig.
His reaction was pretty much like Gil's about the melted
tires on the Ward and Dodge, including the sympathetic
whistle and unbelieving head shake. "Everyone still in one 
piece?"

DeSoto crossed his arms over themselves.
"For the most part. Bumps and bruises on the engine
crew." Roy grinned. "Cap's coordinating with Carter on
figuring out the best way for the tow bed to reach
over there. If you're looking for him, he said he would 
be hanging by Engine 36 trying to figure out why their
tires didn't melt like ours did."

 Gage's face fell into alertness. "Roy. Wait a minute
Wait a minute.. You said Cap left the engine
to come back over here?"

"Yeah, he left there about a minute before I did." 
DeSoto grinned, smacking some soot off his pants cuff.

Gage's face levelled into a quiet seriousness that
sobered Roy. "Well I didn't see him. I only saw you 
when you scared the snot outta me tapping my shoulder
like that."

"That's odd." Roy said. "I-I wonder where he could
have gone?" 

"He's probably hiding in the bushes somewhere, embarrassed
to come out here to see me about the reason why he
decided he had to melt both his vehicles down like waxworks." 
Ben joked. "He knows I'll tease him about the paperwork."

All three men chuckled.

Captain Stone lifted his HT. "Engine 8 to Engine 51.
Hank, my medics are here and have relieved yours. What's your 
10-20?"

The light laughter from them died away when nothing but
static returned. 

Something deep inside gripped Johnny and he fidgetted.
His odd nervousness returned and he danced on his feet,
craning a neck over to where he could see Chet milling about
next to the engine. 

Some of Stone's men were already fully on the scene. 
They were using 51's own water to cool her steaming tire 
rims and undercarriage with one of her hoses that hadn't 
been singed during their frantic breakout. 

"Hang tight. I'm gonna go check on something.." 
he told Stone and DeSoto. And he jogged across the field 
over to where Kelly was putting a bandaid on the bridge 
of Stoker's bruised nose.

Kelly looked up and so did Mike. "Hiya Johnny. Sorry for
not answering your hail. Cap said he would take care of it."

"Yeah, well guys, answer me this. Where is Cap?"
Gage said hurriedly. "He never replied me."

"Isn't he with you fellas by the road?"

"I thought he was with you.." Gage said with a
frustrated pointing gesture.

Stoker shook his head, feeling up the patch job
Kelly did on his tender nose when he was through.
"Hey, Chet, I think you put this on crooked." he
complained, peeking in the engine's soot streaked
door side mirror.

Kelly smirked at Mike. "You look beautiful, Stoker."
*Smooch* he kidded. 

Stoker made a face. "Think I'll go get someone 
else to fix this then. I know, I'll go get one of 
Stone's medics to give me an honest opinion on 
the efficacy of your bandaging job. Roy and Johnny
just may have to re-train you on how to do it
right, buddy."

"And I think you scarred me for life, pal, by crashing
into that hillside. Just look at my elbow, 
Stoker! I freaked pretty bad running over here
to get to ya. I don't see you patching ME up..!" he 
bellowed. "Some gratitude, man.. Geesh.." Kelly said at
Mike's departing back as he flicked some dirt
out of his very minor abrasion with a few fingernails. 
"Hey, no sweat about Cap, Johnny. Didya try 
hailing him on th-"

"Yes, Chet.." Johnny cut him off. "I just told you that.
And for that matter, Stone just tried to reach him again,
too."

Marco looked up from where he was checking
the underside of the Ward for signs of oil or gas leaks.
He was moving slowly to favor his bruised behind.
No one laughed at his stiffness. "I saw him." Lopez
piped up. " He said he was gonna look over the 
front end under all that brush to see whether or 
not Stoker crumpled any chrome." he chuckled.
"We got a bet riding on it."

"Well how long ago was that?"

"Oh, about five, six minutes ago." Lopez said. "Once
he knew we were all fine, he grabbed his helmet
and headed that way." Marco indicated.

All three men turned to peer into the thick rhododendrons
covering Engine's 51 steaming front section. "Cap?!" 
Gage called out. "Got a minute?!"

Hank didn't holler back.

Puzzled, the firemen started walking towards the hillside. 
Johnny stopped in his tracks when he saw Cap's HT still 
laying across the seat of the engine through its open 
driver's door. His work gloves were still there, folded
neatly on top of the transmission live radio.

Kelly noticed that too, "That's weird. He didn't take
his gloves with him. Kinda odd, cause there's still 
a lot of superheated metal up there."

Johnny hefted them up and he shoved the gloves 
into his pants belt. Gage nervously shifted the helmet 
on his head. "Guys, come on. Let's try to find him."

"What's the big deal Gage?" Kelly asked. "Maybe
he changed his mind about checking up on you and Roy
and went to 36's engine for a bit first to check on Carter."

Johnny lifted his HT. "Squad 51 to Engine 36."

##Go ahead, 51.## Carter's calm gravelly voice replied.

"Cap, ..ah" Gage said. "Is our captain with ya ? 
We can't seem to pin down his current location."

##Negative. Stone here with me says he still
can't raise Hank either.##

"That tears it.." Johnny said. A thick dread filling his
stomach. He put on Hank's gloves and moved to the
equipment compartment of the engine for a safety belt
and a coiled figure eight of rock rope.

The other guys watched him in surprise.  Chet spoke
up. "Gage, why are you getting so worked up here?
Cap's around. He always is. He's probably just
someplace nearby figuring out a way to get the tow 
guys back in here to-"

That annoyed Johnny. "Have you ever known Cap
to wander a scene without his HT?" he insisted
sharply.

"Well,... no..not exactly.." Kelly stammered.

"It's never, Chet. Now come on and help me into 
this.." he said. "Then get yourself geared up too. 
I'm calling for a scene search."

"Johnny, don't you think you're over reac--"

Gage hit his HT call out. "Engine 51 to HT 51
and all Engines. Captain Stanley may be missing 
from the scene. His last known position was with 
Engine 51. We're beginning a search from our 
10-20. We need immediate assistance."

##10-4...## came multiple replies. Stone, Roy 
Atkins and Carter soon came running from the road to
rendevous with Gage and the others.

Stone was pacing along side Gage when they began to
cut through the underbrush, fighting their way to
the front side of the engine and into the narrow
arroyo its hood was jammed up against. Once
there, he found a hand saw on the ground where
Cap had apparently been doing the same thing. 
"Here, Ben. "Johnny shouted. "Looks like he came this way.." 
Captain Stone joined Gage and squeezed into the small 
space that was blocking their way to the open tangle 
of brushy slope angling in front of the engine. 

Johnny had just pushed through and was standing
up when his feet tottered on the edge of a yawning 
hole in the grass. He pinwheeled in panic with a shout 
until Ben pulled him back away from the weakened spot  
that had creaked woodenly beneath his weight.

The others behind them held up when Ben gestured 
for them to freeze. "Hold it! Hold it! There's a hole
here!" he snapped at them.

Ben cautiously inched forward to look where Johnny had
almost fallen and his face furrowed. "Looks like an old 
abandoned well. Careful, everyone. The shaft's lip may 
be bigger than it appears because of all this old overgrowth."

They all dropped to their stomachs and crawled forward 
until they could peer down into its darkness around the 
rotten boards they found there. Two of the boards were 
newly cracked and there was a steaming redness
streaked across one of them. Ben reached out a hand to
touch some and he brought it to his nose. "It's blood."

"Cap?!!" Kelly called out urgently.

Johnny drew out the flashlight he had snatched along
with his gear and aimed it down into the hole. He
could just hear the sounds of gurgling water far
below and his light's feeble beam caught something
shiny hanging on a root. It was Cap's helmet. "I was 
afraid of something like this." Gage said quietly 
worried. "Didn't feel right about him."

Stone got on the radio. "Engine 8 to L.A. and all
units at 51's incident. We've a man down a well
beneath a fire engine. Respond a cave specialist team
and a heavy excavation equipment detail to our 
crash scene."

##10-4, Engine 8. Your time out. 16:12.##

Tones began to peel out eerily over their talkies
as Gage and Kelly continued to shout down the
crumbling shaft. "Cap! Can you hear me?" Gage
yelled. 

Kelly's face was tight with tension and he
swallowed nervously as the echo of their voices
died away and bounced around inside the dripping
shaft without a responding reply. He looked up at 
Ben, Roy, Carter, Johnny, Atkins and Stone. 
"Sounds like there's an awfully strong current 
at the bottom. I think the lower half of the 
shaft's flooded really deep."

"Could be a well broken through into a mine shaft."
Carter suggested. "This whole park's riddled
with old abandoned digs. I personally know
of five underground passages which carry water 
towards the flooded quarry just over that hill. 
This clearing may be a place where slideouts during 
fire years occur regularly. See where rain has weakened 
the hillside here? A boulder may have broken through, 
creating this fissure into the well, when your engine 
came barreling against it, out of control."

Atkins was only just slipping into rappelling gear.
He marvelled at Gage already being so well
equipped for a vertical descent. "Did you listen
to the little voice we're both thinking of to figure this
out?"

"Who knows for sure, man. I just want to get
down there, Atkins. Now."

Kelly and the others rapidly placed a ladder
over the hole that they had grabbed from
the engine.

Roy laid a calming hand on Johnny's back.
"Yeah, well we'll be down there quick enough.
Stone's tying off our ropes to the engine's front 
wench as we speak." 

Gage's heart sank into an icy chill when his 
flashlight kept finding more and more places along 
the shaft's jagged walls where bloody smears marked 
the staining that Cap's body had left behind as it 
tumbled.

He still could see nothing of Hank.

Johnny's mouth went dry as he peered into the
pitch black of the wet rotten hole. "Tie them
off faster, guys! He can't wait. I'm seeing a lot
of blood down there." he snapped at the men 
grunting and squeezing through the undergrowth 
around the hole to reach the engine's grill and 
bumper. And the power wench. "Be ok, Cap. Just 
be ok.."

----------------------------------

Photo : Chet in turnout gear, worried.

Photo : Marco, kneeling and looking down.

Photo : Johnny and Captain Stone working
           while looking down.

Photo:  Roy on a ladder over
           a cave in with Johnny looking on.

Photo:  A broken through mining well
           and boards in the ground.

Photo : Cap's helmet, bloodied.

******************************
From : "Cory Anda" <andacory@hotmail.com>  
Subject : The Inner Life  
Date : Sat, 12 Apr 2003 02:16:58 +0000  
   
  
Hank Stanley groaned as he awakened
to an eerie greenish darkness. He was upright, 
hanging on a wall by the back of his collar on a 
splinter of wood and his helmet was gone. 
"Whaa?" he said out loud. "What?" he said again
as he opened his eyes to a feeble glow coming
from below him. There was a roaring 
in his ears. ::Did I hit my head?:: he wondered 
and he took in a couple of deep breaths. ::Maybe not,
cause I don't feel any pain. ::Then Hank realized what 
the noise was. ::My legs. That's why they're cold. 
They're dangling in this rushing water up to my thighs.
Am I in some kind of riverbed?::  Then he realized that
wasn't the case. Peering about, he realized that he was in
an old mining chamber at a junction of a vertical shaft
where it met the ceiling of another flooded horizontal 
passage. Just ahead of him, he could see an ominous 
gurgling whirlpool rotating at the end of the dead end 
passage about thirty feet downstream.


He tried to shift his head but a warning creak 
of sagging nails on the shattered wood holding
his jacket, halted him. They dropped him a couple of inches 
in his precarious place. :"Ahh!." And Hank froze, trying 
to still the motion of his legs dragging in the fast flow
beneath him. ::Don't want to fall in. That water 
sounds deep and I can't tell where all that
water's going for sure...::

He spent another minute or so flexing his limbs slowly
and Hank decided that he was fairly intact, all things considering. 
Until he glanced down at his right hand and realized that 
it was red with actively streaming blood. ::Oh,..
I got an artery..:: he realized, licking his dry lips.::Gotta
s- stop that..::  Already, his head was full of fuzz and
a nauseating thirst was thickening his tongue. Moaning, 
Cap reached into his pocket and found the nasal cannula 
that he had shoved there from the little girl's mother earlier 
as they loaded her daughter up onto the squad for their 
desperate escape through the fire. He rigged a half hitch and 
looped it tight around his upper arm over his coat on his
bleeding side and did it again before he tightened it with an
adjustable knot with his teeth and other hand. He pulled 
until he could feel the thudding pulse beating in his lacerated 
arm, only quitting when he felt his fingers growing tingly 
and numb. Gasping, he let go of his tourniquet and
he drifted in a sea of dizziness.

A few minutes later, he looked down and saw that the 
fast trickle of blood was now reduced to a slow rain of 
drops that fell into the rapid flow of water beneath 
him. ::That did it.Ugh.. Hope it doesn't come loose on 
me. This plastic doesn't make very good rope.:: He 
looked around and up above him. Very far away, he 
could see a patch of daylight over his head and he 
could vaguely hear eerie echoes of..::Those are
L.A. dispatches! I'm hearing Sam over an HT!:: 

"Hey!! "  he shouted and immediately winced when that
effort shot pain through his circulation stopped arm.
"Agh...hh." he moaned and his consciousness began to drift
as nausea rose up to sicken him. Hank barely kept his
stomach by reaching down and splashing some of
the water rushing by onto his face with his good arm.

Then he began to regret his actions when a mild shivering
set in. ::I'm going into shock. ..I....probably lost a 
fair bit of my total volume here.:: he thought. Taking a 
gamble, Hank grabbed a chrome polishing rag he had 
taken with him to the front of the engine on his trip to 
seal the bet, from his other pocket. He held it in the water 
swirling about him until it was fully wet. Gasping and
shaking, he wrung it out into his mouth and swallowed the
rank liquid slowly. ::Tastes awful. But I gotta....gotta get 
my fluid level up or I'll pass out..::

Hank drank until his sharpening nausea stopped him. A couple
of times, Cap almost lost what he had taken in and it was only
a sheer effort of will that saved him from vomiting it
all out again. Hank was rewarded a minute later with a 
clearer head and soon, the chamber he was trapped in 
stopped spinning around and around in his vision. 

"CAP ?! ..CAp ?!......Cap ?!...........cap... ?!" came
a bouncing echo from above. It was Chet's voice,
mingled with Johnny's.

But Cap's head began to sag as his BP dropped 
from his internal chilling and he couldn't respond. 
He slipped into a half state, eyes staring into the 
noisy whirlpool filled with green underwater light 
just ahead. He began to drift and dream..

----------------------------------------------------------
Captain McConnike walked the line in front of his new
firemen cadets and stopped in front of one very very
tall, gawky young French looking man, who towered
a head over him. He dipped his head to read the
man's name tag.. "Henry...Stanley.." he read myopically.

"Hank.. uh, Hank. S-sir.. Only my mother calls me Henry. And
uh,...my pastor."  Hank immediately bit his lip nervously
for talking out of turn in the inspection line. He had heard 
so much about McConnike's reputation on being merciless to 
any probies assigned to his station who dared break protocol
on anything. He froze at attention when his new captain gave 
him a once over glance from his hours long polished shoes to 
his starched white dress hat. "Hmm... " the man regarded Hank 
thoughtfully. Hank could just feel the other probies twitching 
in sympathy for him as he fell under the gun. 

Hank felt his upper lip start to bead with sweat.

McConnike said gruffly. "Uniform's fair Mr. Stanley. You only
missed some polish on that button."

"Which button where?" Hank said looking down.

McConnike immediately swept up his index finger and caught
Hank by the nose, making him lift his head in a Three
Stooges move. He began to laugh uproariously and so
did Hank's fellow newbies. The humor had just the opposite
effect on Hank, who's face flushed nine shades redder than
the engine he was standing in front of.

McConnike glared at the cadets to shut them up and to
spare Hank the humility. But his dogged I'm the superior
and you're not grin stayed firmly in place as he thoroughly
drank in Hank's discomforture. "Knew that would get ya,
Henry. I never miss my mark when I pull that one." and he 
laughed loud, alone and long. The need to wipe away his
tears ended McConnike's enjoyment and he said one last
parting shot before moving on to inspect the next
cadet to Hank's left. "Never liked my real name either,Henry.
So just call me Cap."

------------------------------------------------

Hank started to mumble in his half state..
"Hank, call me Hank! D*mn him..No wonder I set his
hat on fire. He never let up the whole time with
those stupid slapstick jokes of his for as long as
I was his newest man at the station. It wasn't
until I became a captain myself that he finally
started calling me Hank like he should have.."
he chuckled weakly.

"CAP?!....CAp?!........Cap?!...........cap?!.... ..We're coming 
DOWN..DOWn.......DOwn.......Down..........down..So 
HANG...HANg--HAng...Hang....hang..in there..rrrrr..e..
there rrrr..e...rre...just a little bit longer..rrrr..rrr...rr....r"  
another voice's ghostly echo floated over the loud
rushing waters ringing in Cap's ears.

::Roy?:: Cap's dulled mind ventured. ::Is that you?::
Hank coughed and then just hung limp where he
was, too tired to even think anymore.

-------------------------------------------------

Johnny Gage was a bit lower than his partner in
the cramped well shaft. "Gimme more slack!" he
said looking up the shaft. 

Roy, sweating and climbing down on the boards 
one by one in his harness, spoke. "Johnny have
you noticed how much rope we've been using?
I'm at the one hundred foot coil mark already."
DeSoto kicked away the extra belt they had for 
Cap, from around his legs as he eased around 
a tangle of mining wire.. 

"I know.." Johnny said, grunting as he tipped his
helmeted head down to avoid the water streams
from the ground seeps raining down on them
in the gloom. He didn't voice the fact that a fall
any farther than thirty feet usually ended up in
a fatality. "Just keep going.."

Around Gage's belt, hung Cap's bloodied helmet.
and he kept one superstitious glove on it as
they descended even deeper into the murky
gloom of the well. He shouted again down
the shaft towards their feet but yet again,
nothing but the bubbling echoes of his own voice
floated upwards along with the sounds
of the raging water below. Johnny began to 
breathe harder as unwelcome negative thoughts 
about Cap's continued sinking survival chances 
came more and more frequently with every 
passing moment. 

They were still seeing splashes of blood on 
the walls. Roy became analytical. "All of this
is bright red. He must have gotten a cut into
an artery.. "

"We hope.." Gage said sarcastically. "Grossly
displaced open fractures do this kind of thing
too, in a fall.."

"Yeah, well I prefer to be optimistic, Junior."
Roy sighed. "Because I can't bear to think
that Cap might actually have d-" and he broke
off his line of thinking.

"I know what you mean. I'm having those
kind of doubts myself right now. Come on, 
let's keep going." Johnny said."Like you said,
we'll get all our answers soon enough."

Roy shouted back up the shaft..
"Gimme more slack!"

----------------------------------------------

Hank's breathing was coming with difficulty
now and to him, the moist cool air seemed
to be growing thinner. He could barely open
his eyes and the whirlpool seemed to weave 
a hypnotic spell over him. "I'm sorry, Chief..
I won't do it again..I promise.. Please.. Just
get me out of here....and....you can call me
anything you'd like.."

Hank lifted his numb arm in front of his
face by picking up its sleeve with his other
hand and he peered at the skin on his palm
there. "Man, looks like the mother of all
rug burns.. heh. Will take at least a graft
or two to patch that.."

::Will take a month or two to pass that Hank.
Only by becoming a captain will you find some
peace about him..What ever possessed you to
set the chief's hat on fire?:: his mental psyche 
injected into his mind. "Emily?" he gasped, imagining 
his wife's soft alto whispering to him next to
his ear. Cap's eyes closed as his deepening
hypothermia made him think the stony wall was 
his cotton quilted bed at home and his hallucinations 
real aspects of his family.

Cap finally slipped into a shadowy realm and
all trace of the chamber exited on the silent
black wings of unconsciousness. Hank's breathing
slowed to a crawl.

---------------------------------------------

Johnny Gage stopped shouting Cap's name.
"Wait a minute. Wait a minute.. I see him..!"

"Where?.." Roy asked eagerly, and very tired.

"To my right.. straight down beyond that 
outcropping. Looks like he's mostly out
of the water. More slack!!!" his voice sliced
up the shaft..  

Finally, Johnny lowered another six feet.
He strained reaching for the nearest part
of Cap to his fingertips. His bloody right hand.

Gage grasped that wrist, feeling for a pulse.
He didn't find one. "What?" he startled,
eyes shooting to Cap's face for a confirming
off color. But Cap was still pink. Then Johnny noticed
the shiny coils tied around that arm. "It's a cannula,
Roy, acting as a tourniquet.." he sighed in relief.
"I thought he was dead for a second.." Gage grunted
as he angled in a little closer to reach Cap's limp head.
Johnny had to swing and grope three times before
he landed a solid touch on the side of Hank's neck.
"He's still got a carotid. But its thready. And he's
real cold. Here. Gimme the safety belt, Roy. I'll put it 
around him."

As Gage struggled nearer, his gloves felt Cap's
stomach expand ever so slightly as he worked
to place the belt around Hank's waist to secure
it to their third lifeline."Breathing's shallow. But
he's doing it."

Gage couldn't quite reach the fastener on Cap's
belt to their free rope and unconsciously, Gage
gave a tug, trying to bridge the final inch separating
them.

Captain Stanley's snag on his collar suddenly snapped
and he started sliding down the slope like a stone 
towards the creek streaming passageway below.
 
"Cap!!" Roy shouted, but he was at the end of his rope
and could go no lower.

Johnny made a grab for Cap and only got the loose end of 
the cannula tubing in his grip. It tore loose, untying from 
Cap's arm before Hank fell the rest of the way to
the bottom. He sank rapidly under the water.

Johnny didn't have time to think. He acted. "I'm
going in!" and he cut his short rope from the main
one with his holster bowie knife not even hearing 
Roy's shout not to.

---------------------------------------------------

Johnny Gage was shocked by the utter icyness
of the torrent of water. He barely got his head back above
its frothy surface before his lungs shuddered into an 
instinctive involuntary gasp. He wasted no time.
"Roy.. lower another rope after I get him up!" and
Johnny began a powerful stroke down stream
towards the dead end wall. Briefly, Cap's back
surfaced as his body floated up in the grip of
the leading edge of the eddy. Gage grabbed him,
lifting Hank's pale head above the water before
he flopped it back onto his shoulder. "I got you Cap..!" 
he sputtered as he fought the rapid undertow forming
beneath them. His face filled with a sudden horror
when Johnny realized the danger.

Roy saw the underglow lit whirlpool
surge and it dragged his struggling partner
and their ragdoll captain inside a ferocious swirl 
as it hungrily sucked both of them under.
 
The submersed shadows that he could see
of their clinging bodies, spun wildly beneath the flow's 
surface for one terrifying second before they
disappeared entirely as the whirlpool suddenly 
folded noisily onto itself and rippled away into stillness.

Hot tears blinded DeSoto when he realized the 
implications of what he had just witnessed.

"Johnnyyyyy!!!  Caaaappp!!!" Roy screamed and
his terror echoed a dozen fold above the underground
river.

Roy never remembered pulling on his rope for
a hasty ascent.

-------------------------------------------

Photo: Johnny in a tight ground hole.

Photo: Johnny on a rappelling rope.

Photo: Roy looking stunned outside.

Photo: A flooded under ground cave whirlpool.

Photo: Cap's helmet, turnout and boots line
          up along the wall of the station.

************************************
From : "Roxy Dee" <laterrapincabesa@hotmail.com>  
Subject : Washout  
Date : Tue, 15 Apr 2003 20:27:20 +0000  
  

Hands reached for Roy the moment everyone 
around the caved in well could see him. 

"Captain Stone?! They fell.." his voice cracked. 

"What?!" the station eight captain gasped. 

Roy let the crew around him pull him out by the arms. 
"My partner was about to secure Cap to a lifeline 
when the debris holding him on the wall gave way. 
Johnny cut his rope and went after him but they're 
in trouble. The current had an undertow at the 
end of what I think is a dead end passage and they 
both were swept under." 

Captain Carter rubbed his chin, thinking. 
"A dead end passage did you say?" 

"Yeah." Roy coughed, catching his wind after 
the long climb upward. "Is that important?" 

"Sure is.." Steven nodded. "When these old mines 
were open, certain tunnels had sloughs specifically 
designed for discharging excess rainwater into an aqueduct 
that feeds into the main quarry just over that rise.." 
he said, pointing. "If your captain and partner are 
still alive, that's where they'll end up." 

Stone stepped back from the hole as Chet and Marco 
helped Roy out of his rappelling belt and ropes. 
He thumbed his radio and said, "HT Eight to Engine 
8 and Brush 4. We've two men washed away in a 
subterranean current near our location. Send four 
men with a pair of stokes and mountain rescue gear 
to the north side of McGregor Quarry. The place 
we're looking for them to reappear is anywhere along 
that shoreline. Over." 

##10-4, Engine 8. Slope extrication and stokes 
to the north escarpment of the quarry. We're moving 
out now.## 

"10-4." Ben sighed. 

Roy's face was pale with fright for his crewmates and 
he found he couldn't think clearly at all. Chet Kelly 
grasped him on the shoulder and said. "Roy, they're 
ok man. You heard Captain Carter. That tunnel wash has an 
outlet that's not very long. You know how Johnny always ends 
up back on his feet after something like this happens.." 
he nodded animatedly. 

"Yeah? But he doesn't ever do that without injury, Chet. 
Gonna be harder this time because Cap's got more going on 
besides just shock and hypothermia. His arm was in a 
tourniquet when we found him for a very significant laceration 
and that came free when he fell. On top of the drowning danger, 
Cap may just bleed to death before Johnny can do anything to 
stop it." DeSoto said. 

Kelly's face sobered, but immediately, he said. 
"Roy, quit freaking out. You're snowballing. 
Just go with the other guys running over there. 
Marco and I will handle the squad gear and we'll meet 
you in two minutes! I see Stoker already booking for it." 

With a heavy heart,  Roy took up Chet's advice and 
jogged after the two fire captains to the edge of the 
abandoned quarry just beyond Engine 51. 

--------------------------------------------

Photo : Roy on the squad radio, helmet on.

Photo: Chet grabbing a ladder from the squad.

Photo : A flooded stone quarry near the ocean.

***************************************
From:   "Ziggy" <ziggy@zootsplace.com> 
Date:  Tue Apr 15, 2003  6:36 pm
Subject:  A Brief Return
 

"Hank."

Station 51's captain stirred slightly, but did not awaken fully.

"Hank." The voice, vaguely familiar, insisted more insistently.

Hank's eyes fluttered, but no other response was forthcoming. *Go 'way! 
I'm wet, cold and tired. So tired. Just wanna sleep-*

"Henry Adams Stanley! Ten-hut!"

Hank started awake at that. Old habits faded slowly. He raised his head a
few inches off the stony ground and blinked as the blurry form kneeling
beside him. The form coalesced itself into-"Chief?" Hank knew it wasn't
possible, but the figure at his side appeared to be McConnikee. The chief
was dressed in his day uniform, including his turnout coat and white helmet.
"But-you're dead. aren't you?"

McConnikee smiled somewhat sadly. "I'd like to say the rumors of my death
have been greatly exaggerated, but I'm afraid I can't. But I'm not allowing
the same to happen to you, Hank. You've got to hang in there. Help's on it's
way. Just a short while longer."

Hank blinked. "I--can't. Too--tired."

"You must and you will. The department can't afford to lose another
experienced leader. You've got to hold on." The chief's image smiled. "God
knows Gail is a strong woman, but I need you to help her get through this."

As McConnikee spoke, Hank felt something being tightened around his bleeding
arm. In his half-faded state, he barely paid it any mind.

"Chief, I-I'm sorry f-for-"

"Burning my hat?" McConnikee chuckled. "I admit, I had it coming. Another
reason for you to stick around, Hank. You gotta let your men know the reason
for that. I forgave you for it a long time ago." The chief looked behind
him. "Help's coming now," he stated as he turned to face his rapidly fading
captain. "You were one of my best men, Hank. I'm proud to have been your
commander."

That said, McConnikee rose. Hank thought he saw him pause beside the
unconscious form of another blue-uniformed firefighter near-by. His eyes
closed briefly and when he managed to crack them open again, McConnikee's
image--ghost?--had disappeared. Again, Hank lapsed back into darkness.

 -----------------------------------------------------------

Photo: Cap lying on his back looking up out of uniform.

********************************************
From : "Patti Keiper" <pattik1@hotmail.com>
Subject : Recovering the Past..
Date: Wed, 16 Apr 2003 23:30:14 +0000 


They had found them. Amazingly, on the only
horizontal margin possible, rimming the flooded icy
watered quarry. There had never been a faster descent
by rope than the one made by Johnny and Cap's
rescue team.

---------------

"Got that tourniquet in place, Chet?" Roy asked in 
a strained voice, crouching to check Johnny's
breathing yet again where he lay on his stomach 
semi prone.
 
"Yeah. It's tight. Thought he was awake for a second 
here. He just mumbled something."

"Just keep that arm elevated with that continued
pressure just like you're doing. When that bleeding slows,
pack it off with even more pads and then try to ease
the band loose enough to get that hand to pink up again.
If that bleeding starts up again with any substantial flow, 
tell me, and I'll come over there with a hemostat. 
Guys," Roy addressed the Station Eight firemen ringing 
above them. "Get him into these mast trousers. Cap's 
negative for cervical and spinal injuries." DeSoto said.

"It's a miracle he's not in a million pieces." Marco
said.

"The walls of that well were very muddy, Marco.
Lots of soft clay and moss. No doubt it cushioned him 
on the way down until those tree roots stopped his
fall. Only that arm's been cut by something sharp,
most likely on a loose nail or two. How's his breathing?" 
Roy asked about Cap, feeling along Johnny's still body 
for signs of misalignments or skin breaks. Roy was still 
getting over a scare concerning his partner that had 
occurred when they all had first located them.

Captain Stone was at Hank's head with 
one hundred percent O2 delivering abundantly
by demand valve. "Fast. Seems like he's panting a
little bit here. His rate's around 34 times a minute.
Pulse is up there, too."

"It's hypovolemic shock. As soon as I
finish detailing Johnny, I'll get on the line to 
Rampart for Cap's IVs. Help him vent if he loses 
color more than that lip cyanosis." Roy cut 
the chin strap of Cap's helmet free that was still 
twisted around Johnny's belt to get it out of the 
way for a pelvis fracture check.

"Right." Ben nodded. He could see Marco
and Stoker scrambling to lay out the anti
shock trousers and fit them around Cap's
legs and lower abdomen.


As soon as Roy was convinced Johnny was
in no danger, intact, and truly C spine injury clear, 
he waved the team of four Carter had mobilized, to
wrap him in a plastic blanket right where he
lay. There was still water trickling from his mouth.


Roy breathed a sigh of relief, finally daring to
think back to the first terrifying moments he had
experienced after his feet had touched stony ground 
following his rapid rappel descent down the face of
the quarry cliff to the water's edge.
Roy fervently began to thank his lucky stars for
where he now was, situation wise. ::Gage's 
laryngospasm released only half a minute ago.:: 
DeSoto thought.::He's looking a LOT better now. 
Thank G*d.::

Roy still had both eyes on Gage's chest as he watched 
Carter place him on a high flow O2 mask. DeSoto 
was ecstatic that a cricothyrotomy hadn't been needed. 
Steve's obstructed airway maneuvers initially hadn't 
had any effect at all during those first few seconds of 
Roy's nightmarish recollection. 

DeSoto had just about reached for the 14 guage 
angiocatheter kit when Charlie's failed Magill forceps 
relief attempt confirmed that it was a definitely a 
laryngospasm causing Johnny's apnea. 

Once I.D.'d, the cramp was forced to pass with gentle 
manipulating. Soon after, the hasty gastric tube placement 
that water decompressed Johnny's stomach, did much to 
ease most of Gage's respiratory difficulties. It wasn't
long until they were resolved enough for good ventilating. 
Johnny had begun to gasp right away on his own, soon 
after Steve had given him a few firm breaths mouth to 
mouth.
 
::He's gonna be uncomfortable if he wakes
up with that NG in place, but breathing's better
than not breathing at all any day.:: DeSoto grinned.
Satisfied that Johnny was well seen to, Roy
turned his attention back onto Cap. "How's that 
hemorrhaging over there?" he asked Kelly.

"The band's off. It seems to be easing, though
his breathing isn't by a long shot." Chet told
him.

"I'll fix that in a minute. What Cap needs
is a lot of fluid next until he gets to Rampart
for a transfusion. Kelly, looks like you'll get to 
be his donor once we get there." Roy rubbed
his chin, considering his next plan of attack. 
"Looks like I can start his IVs here, the stokes 
rigging isn't ready yet." Roy said glancing up at 
the fast working set of firemen getting a pulley 
system set to scale the towering quarry cliff walls.

Soon, Roy had his drug treatment go ahead from
Brackett on both his patients. Roy soon inflated
all the chambers of the mast suit happily,
but Cap's systolic BP remained in the low 60's.

DeSoto started two large bore NS bolus drips 
for Cap wide open to elevate him into compensated 
shock. Roy looked up at a moan from over
his shoulder.

Johnny stirred where he lay on his stomach and 
the red haired station eight paramedic at his 
head bent over him in a new primary assessment.
Gil quickly shifted the oxygen mask away
and removed the NG tube as Johnny angled his
soggy limbs from his recovery position in a shaking 
tentative experiment of returning consciousness.
"ooooohhhHH." Gage groaned. Then he
froze when he realized that he was on oxygen
and that Cap was inches away from him 
snuggly warm wrapped and fussed over by
a very welcome bunch of firefighters.
"*cough*..Cap? " And he spat out sandy loam from 
his mouth as he drew the blanket tighter
around his chilled body. Gil sucked the rest of
the grit away with a portable suction lightly as
Gage's water irritated eyes fluttered opened
completely.

"Relax, Johnny. He's fine. We got to you both
in time. How's your chest?"

"Ooowww.. My whaa? Oh...yeah, that."  Analytically, he 
decided his own lungs were clear of water. "Uh,,," he said
fuzzily. "No edema. But my gut's more than sore. Man, 
feels like someone been squeezing me like a pack of 
Charmin."

"Welcome to the world of near drowning, Johnny.
You were a textbook case of cold water laryngospastic
syndrome." Gil quipped.

"I'll never crack another joke about pool gulpers 
ever again. I feel like sh*t." 

"Better feeling like sh*t than dirt, Gage. Start smiling.
Your fool hardy just-being-a-hero stunt paid off so the
possibility of your feeling like dirt here's not even an 
inkling. Man, Gage. We thought you both were goners 
for sure until Stoker spotted you two in your blue shirts 
and pants lying on the rocks." Chet commented, 
placing another dressing pad over the stained one he 
was leaning his weight on over Cap's cut lower arm.

Roy agreed with Kelly wholeheartedly as he monitored Cap's
breathing through a stethoscope. "Nice work on getting Cap 
and yourself to shore. Must have been hard getting your 
turncoats off so that they wouldn't drag you under.
That alone probably made all the difference in the world
on your survival."

"Waitdaminute. * cough* I did what?" Gage said, 
batting Gil's hands away when the medic tried to 
reposition Johnny's mask back over his face. 
"Roy. I didn't have time to do all that. Last
thing I remember, I was rushing along an underwater
passage, watching the walls whiz by in a sea
of bubbles with no air in my lungs, clinging for
dear life with my legs and arms, to Cap. 
Whatdiya mean I got him to shore? Geesh. I was
blacked out even before I saw any daylight.*cough*"  
Johnny set his own O2 back onto his face and
he laid a muddy arm over his face to block
out the painful sunlight streaming into his
aching eyes and head. He let Gil fuss over
him without protest.

Marco, Stoker, Chet and Roy and the other men,
fell silent. They clearly remembered seeing Cap
and Gage, coat stripped and stretched neatly
out, both face down on the beach, as if they had 
been carefully arranged there.

It wasn't until fifteen minutes into an airlift
that Hank Stanley roused and began to shout. Roy
and Chet Kelly had to hold him down in his delirium.
He seemed to be speaking about Chief McConnike and
a solemn promise to visit his gravestone as soon 
as he got out of the hospital.

Roy and Chet could only shrug as to why Cap 
focused on that particular goal.

-------------------------------------------------------

Hank Stanley adjusted his sling around his
loose fitting nautical ivory carnigan and he
sighed deeply, ...just before he rang the
McConnike household doorbell.

The white lacy curtain on the other side
of the pane of glass shifted briefly, as
the slight form of Gail McConnike checked to
see who had come calling so early in the morning.
She was still tired from days of crying since
the funeral. But Gail instantly changed her
outward demeanor when she saw who it was
who'd come calling. "Hank.. you've been
discharged from the hospital so soon?"

Hank Stanley pulled the bundle of white roses
with a gold enveloped sympathy card nestled
inside of them, from behind his back. "I...sort
of made a pest of myself, Gail. You see.. I...
had to come here. Sort of knew I....needed to
be here, now.. For you and your daughter."

Gail accepted the perfumey blooms, taking
comfort in their heady, water coaxed aroma.
"Thank you, Hank. Won't you come in?"

Cap nodded self consciously and he
only sat himself down on the flower patterned
couch when she insisted that he do so.
"So how are you holding up..?" he asked
without preamble. "I...sort of feel compelled
to ask you that. Stop me if I'm too personal
here. I- I--I don't want to overstep my bounds."

Gail's freckled face finally beamed inside a
frame of silver white and black curls. "Now
that's Melton rubbing off on you again. Right
to the core, Hank Adams Stanley. And you know it.
When you're in this house I expect you to be yourself
and yourself only. Is that clear?" she smiled slightly.

"Yes, maam.." Cap said, falling into a moment of
remembering the Chief's last words spoken to him 
that day on the shoreline. He wasn't even sure that
it really happened. Days later, as he lay healing in his 
hospital bed, he decided that how he had come to 
experience them didn't matter. What was important 
was realizing the profound effect that the Chief was still 
having on both their lives. Cap tentatively reached out 
and took Gail's hand in warm, close friendship. 
"Hard to break a habit engrained in my very fiber. 
Melton is still very much in my thoughts. There 
isn't a day that passes when I don't think of him."

"Join the club.." Gail said gently. "Would you like
a drink? Coffee? Tea?"

"No, no thanks. I'm fine. I'm just about ready to
stop by the stationhouse and let the guys know
how I'm faring. They invited me to breakfast to
celebrate my breaking out of Rampart."

Gail laughed gently. "No doubt it's Marco's mom's
tamales again.." she guessed.

"How'd you know..?"

"It's Wednesday. Melton always used to bother
you men on A shift each month on surprise inspection 
just so he could have an excuse to eat those wonderful
tamales with you."

Cap's eyes smiled and he folded his good hand onto
his lap.

"So how are YOU doing? That broken arm hurt much?" Gail 
McConnike asked of Cap's sling, misguessing what it was for.

"I just had some surgery to repair an artery that's all. 
I didn't break anything. It doesn't hurt much anymore.
Brackett's a wonderful vascular surgeon. I-I...I am
healing just fine. " Cap looked down and his eyes
fell on the coffee table to the maroon photo album
that lay there of Melton McConnike. It was opened, ironically
to the days when Cap was a new firefighter under him.

On the second page, there was an unexpected shot 
from the day Cap first became Captain of Station 51. From
the first moments in fact, when he had fired off his first 
surprise dress inspection on his new crew at 51 just to 
stretch his newly appointed rank's muscle. It surprised
Hank that the photo was even there. He hadn't remembered
there even being a photographer present on that day.

But then again, six years of similar inspections and
years of runs made it difficult for recalling any great detail
of his first day as "Cap". Hank remembered feeling far
too nervous to remember much of anything.
Seeing his own men, younger, and very sharp in their
dress uniforms, gave Hank courage to return the question
back at Gail. "So, how are you healing, Gail? It can't
be easy for you to adjust at all. Again, stop me if I'm 
being too personal, please.." he insisted.

Gail noticed the picture that Cap's eyes were focused
on and she slowly drew it out of the album so Cap
could take a better look at it. "Here.." she said, after
a slight hesitation. "Then keep it. It's a gift.."

"No, no, no.. I - I couldn't take this. It belonged to
the Chief.. I."

"Hank. It's yours now. Melton frequently sent photographers
out to the stations where his first old crew each promoted 
into in order to hand those images back out to them during
a special occasion, or other moving moment such as.." 
and her voice broke off..

Hank finished her thought for her. "...such as during
a fireman's funeral.."

Gail smiled slightly. "Only with your station, Hank, he never
ever got a chance to. You were too d*mned good at
keeping all your men's rears intact.." she joked.
"Melton loved that about you. One of the only captains
to never lose a man."

"Careful, Gail, you might jinx me.."

"Rubbish.. Superstition is for fools..."

"And firehouse captains.." Hank quipped, waiting for
Gail to gather herself to answer his question.

"True.." she admitted. Then her eyes grew bright with
a sadness that only hinted the depth of her grief that was
still very much a part of her existence." I'm taking
it one day at a time." she sighed. "Friends make my
days bearable. They bring food, flowers.." she laughed,
indicating the vase that Cap had brought to her.
"But the nights are the worse. I can...almost.....feel
him in bed beside me sometimes. " she confessed.

Cap just nodded. But then he leaned forward,
taking Gail's hand once more in comfort. 
"This is going to sound crazy, but I had a chance
to ...feel ...him about me, too. I can't explain it, Gail.
And I'm not even going to try. All that kept running
through my mind while I lay there in deep shock on
that shoreline, was how much the Chief loved you 
and how much he wanted you to be all right with 
his going..."

Gail's eyes filled and she firmly placed her
other hand on Hank's and squeezed. "That's
a two way street, Hank. You see, a few days
before the accident, Melton wanted me to call you
about a gift he wanted to bring you in July
for the next annual fireman's picnic.."

"Oh?"

"Wait right here.." And Gail swept out
of the sunny Victorian parlor into the
den Cap could just barely see. She returned with
a box that seemed to be stuffed with
shredded white tissue paper.  Gail took the 
picture of Cap's first official inspection from
his hand and replaced it with her gift.

"What's this?"

Gail's face grinned. "Open it and see.
This is part two to go along with your
debut captain's photo."

Hank swallowed and opened the box.

The white delicate tissue paper fell
away to reveal an old fireman's dress
hat. It had a charred brown edged hole crowning
where its headpiece frame cloth had
been burned away and the metal worked
captain's rank front emblem was still 
holding its shape where the stretched cloth 
used to be.

Captain Stanley gasped when he realized
what it was.. "He saved this?"

"Of course he did. It was the first time a
junior man ever held him accountable for
questionable behavior and Melton always
said that it was an extremely valuable lesson
he learned that day." her voice adopted a
McConnike sounding timbre. "Never wound
a newbie in an inspection line no matter
how tempting a joke might be. Or it'll come
back to bite you.." she concluded. "He saved
that as a reminder of you. Your revenge taken
by burning this had a profound effect on Melton.
He never tired of watching your career grow or
watching you develop the skills and integrity
that a true captain of the line only rarely gains.
He was so proud of you, Hank."

Cap's eyes filled likewise and he gently touched
an ashen edge of the hole in McConnike's old
cap's hat. "I never knew.."

"And I never knew how dedicated you were
to him, until the day you had that courier
come to my house with his white helmet for the
funeral with a letter from both you and Ben.
I was deeply touched to learn that both of you 
were adamantly refusing the department's move
to promote one of you to the Chief's spot, 
in his honor.."

"It's the least we could have done. The way
they fill a gap's sometimes heartlessly swift."

"Well, that helmet's back in service now.
I called Ben Stone myself and asked him to accept
the post. He's been training for it all this
week while you were still in the hospital. I--I hope
I made the right decision in my recommendation
to the Department heads. I know how much you 
would miss your men if I had urged you to take it.
You would have done it in a heartbeat out of loyalty
to me and Melton, without regard for your own 
wants and desires."

"Gail.. That's not true.."

"In a pig's eye, Hank. Look, you're not even meeting
ME in the eye so I know you're lying.." she smirked.
"I've had the time I needed, Hank. It's ok for someone
else to carry on the job Melton loved so much. I'm
ready to see the Chief's spot pass on to the next man
believe me. I wouldn't have sent the helmet back
if I hadn't thought so."

"You sure you didn't do that out of some quirky 
loyalty you might have to all of us captains
that Chief McConnike has trained?"

"Well, maybe just a little.." Gail admitted at last,
smoothing down her paisley china blue apron.

Hank smiled, gently putting away the ancient
hat back into its box along with the photo Gail
had given him. "Then loyalty must be an infection 
that knows no bounds for we are both afflicted with 
it most grieviously. And for that matter, so was Melton.
For it is because of him that we're both now sitting 
here talking about the future."

"A future that I thought I would never be able
to face. Yet,  now I am.." Gail said, her face
dawning with sudden comprehension.

"I'm very glad to hear that. To a degree that
you couldn't even possibly imagine."
Cap replied softly. He slowly caressed the
hat box under his hand, marveling in the soothing
feel its surface had on his skin and his soul.

----------------------------------------------------------

The sun was so far set that Mike Stoker had
already taken in the station flags. Cap
had not moved from his space at the kitchen
table. 

In front of him was a bolt of white cotton cloth,
fabric glue and a stretching frame.

Roy, Johnny, Chet, Marco and Mike all watched
with fascination as Cap completed his restoration
of the famous burned McConnike hat. No one was
brave enough to ask how Cap had come by it again
after so many years. But finally, Chet came
out with it.

"So why'd ya do it?"

The room fell silent, even the sounds of four pairs
of lungs suddenly stopping their breathing in shock 
at Kelly's bold bravado.

"Huh?" Hank grunted as he carefully painted gold
leafing over the captain's rank crest on the newly
restored hat's metal working, distracted. Then
the question finally sank in. "Oh,.. uh, well. Let
me set this brush down first. Let's see. The reason
why.. Hmmmmm."

"Cap.." Gage complained.

"Oh, ok. ok. This is how it was. Well, you know
how you and Kelly got into that game one year with the
waterbombs in the whole Phantom fiasco?"

"Yeah.." Kelly said, swallowing nervously at
finally being on the verge of getting the answer
every man in the department wanted to know about
Hank Stanley.

"Well, the Chief and I got into it in the same
way.. Only we used firecrackers instead of water.."

Roy started to snicker.. "Y-You planted a firecracker 
in his hat?"

Cap grinned guiltily, blowing softly on his careful
painting, so the 24 carat gold guilding would dry 
with a rich shine. "Yeah, won that oneupmanship 
AND the running bet that HQ heads had riding on us. 
Believe me, it was worth every hour I spent cleaning 
the latrine with a toothbrush."

"So that's why you never give yourself that chore
to do. You hate it so much because it reminds
you of this burned hat.." Kelly said, putting two
and two together.

"Not anymore. In fact, as soon as I get my arm
healed and get back on the duty rosters, I'll pull
the can detail first day, like it SHOULD rotate 
through. There'll be no more of my pulling rank
around here inside the station. Things are gonna 
be fair and square from now on."

"Hey hey hey..." John and the guys celebrated.

"Does that mean when I pull a prank on Gage in
the future, that you won't be threatening me
with a hose tower detail?"

"That standing order penalty doesn't count, Kelly. 
The tower's outside the station. I said I'd be
fair about what goes on in HERE."

 "Oh.." said the gang, severely disappointed.

Upon hearing that, Chet, Roy and Johnny fell 
into age old grimaces of frustration, in three 
familiar poses of see no, hear no, speak no 
evil.

Cap never saw their dismay. He was too
busy repairing the symbol that used to be
a source of pain that was now his 
ultimate destiny.

-------------------------------------------------

The next day, a tall figure in a dress suit
fireman's outfit left his car inside the rural
Burbank cemetery whose address a new widow 
had shared with him. It was approaching sunset.

Cap Stanley walked respectfully to a recently groomed
grave and his understanding eyes fell on the name
carved there on the rosy marble. He traced
the name's lettering with a finger from his good hand
and briefly rested on the still sun warmed stone,
relishing the heat radiating there. "Chief.. I'm sorry I 
wasn't there when you were laid to rest here that day. 
But I sure know that you were there for me that afternoon
in the quarry. I can never repay the debt I owe
you for making me fight to live."

He sighed and smiled and then he said.
"I hope this makes up for it at least a little bit."

Cap brought out the chief's old cap's hat, now 
appearing like new, untarnished and crisp. 
::It's been restored with the love only two firefighters 
can share.:: Stanley wondered as he held it close.
 
Hank hung it on the flower holder attached to the 
stone marker and touched it one final time. As an 
afterthought, Cap left behind another gift for the 
man still looming so large in his life; his own 
double bugle dress rank pin of captain.

The dimming sun glinted once on the insignia
and it sparkled like the purest gold into
his eyes as his fingers set it on the top of
McConnike's snow white and black dress hat. 
"Here's to that big alarm call in the sky, Chief. 
Hope you're there commanding the scene first
at every one of them. And if you meet up with 
any other of the boys who didn't make it, 
tell them I'm thinking of them, too..... 
This is Station 51, KMG 365. Over and out."

Hank Stanley began to smile as he
made his way back to his car in the
newly gathering, tender summer night.

Something deep inside of him that
had been coiled tightly for so long,
unraveled. Hank's relief was so profound,
that it drew healing tears to his eyes
that ran unchecked, down his cheeks.
 
Cap's heart, was now finally, at peace.

Hank Stanley drove back to his station
to a future that he now knew with absolute 
certainty as still belonging to him in every 
sense of the word.

-----------------

Behind, in the darkness, a wrinkle
on the hat Cap had repaired, smoothed
itself out in the moonlit wind, until it was 
inspection perfect, as if by an invisible 
hand from Chief Melton McConnike.

As if in agreement, a distant L.A. county
siren answering a tones out call, wove
through the peacefully sleeping cemetery,
like a lullaby.


FIN- The Golden Horn
Episode Six, Season One
April 2003.
--------------------------------------

Photo: Johnny with drowning Cap in water.

Photo: Roy looking stressed, outside.

Photo: The 51 gang in full dress uniform.

Photo: Johnny getting after Chet in the bay
          following another water bomb. Gang watches.

Photo: Roy and Johnny and Chet. Hear no evil,
          speak no evil, see no evil poses.

Photo: Cap rushing to the scene in the Ward cab.
          Daytime.

Photo: McConnike's dress uniform hat.
                 
*********************************
 
FIN
  
    :)   This episode is dedicated to all firefighters
         and EMS personnel who are injured or who lose
         their lives in the line of duty. May their sacrifice
         be rewarded hereafter and forever in eternity.
    :)                                                                      :)                                                                                

@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@
 
The Story Unfolds...

Season One, Episode Seven..  
      
    Crazy Days

 *****************************
From:   Jeff Seltun <finiterider@yahoo.com> 
Date:  Sat Apr 19, 2003  3:43 pm
Subject:  Here's to Irritability.

Dixie McCall headed with a firm purpose for 
the cool caffeinated sanctuary of the main ER
nurse's lounge. Her hair was ratty, her feet ached
and she was grumpier than Kelly Brackett, 
even on his worst day.

Joe Early saw her retreating form in the relatively
crowded hallway and he called out, raising a few
fingers in a hail.  "Say, Dix.."

McCall only saw red. "What now?!Can't 
you see I'm going on break here?" and Dixie 
whirled to face whoever was interrupting her 
rare hard won personal off time. She about 
faced sharply and angrily whipped the loose 
wispys out of her eyes with the only thing 
not frazzled by the 'Day from H*ll', her 
elegant fingernails. "Oh, it's just you.."

Joe blinked in surprise and actually back peddled
a few steps."Whoa.. Is that too much coffee 
talking or did that experimental resupply 
inventory nurse screw up the paramedic drug
cupboard again?" 

Dixie sighed immediately in resigned instant
apology and buried her head against Joe's
shoulder. "Oh,.." she sighed in embarrassed
apology. "Rewind the last five seconds, Joe please."
And she lifted her head, straightening his lapels
which were just as rumpled from the morning as
hers was. "I'm snarly because I can't FIND any coffee.
What IS going on around here? I swear every
nurse and doctor's got a vendetta against me
today. I can't find a single pot even partially
full anywhere."

"Well, how about in there?" Joe said helpfully,
pointing to the nurse's lounge that Dixie had
already been beelining for.

"Thanks so much for the suggestion..."
she said wearily. "Let's go and then you
can tell me why you're here seeking me out."

Joe grinned eagerly and darted ahead to
open the door for his work beaten friend
with a gallant "no after you" gesture.

Dixie barely managed to muster a nod of
gratitude. Then she rushed over to the silver
pot glistening on the hot pad by the wall
of mugs across from the couch, beating out
a pretty young student nurse about to
reach for it too. The candy striper beat
a hasty retreat at Dixie's pounce.


Smiling and purring ferally, Dixie grabbed
onto the steamy handle.

The heft of the coffee service in her hand
made Dix double take and immediately she
started swearing like a truck driver. "I can't
believe it! I am seeing a whole wall of
employee coffee mugs stained with today's
coffee rings! Everyone's but mine.." and 
she slammed down the empty chrome pot 
back onto the counter with a bang.

"Oo. Dix. Take it easy. Isn't there a whole
can of Folder's in the cabinet above you?"

Dixie banged the back of her head without
looking into its door and the olive green 
cupboard swung neatly open behind her
to reveal a lone, much bedraggled brand new
coffee can, crushed flat like an accordian. 
"Brice's on duty today and whenever he is, 
coffee grounds evaporate like fog. Johnny Gage 
thinks he brews and drinks it all in one ten 
minute sitting. How else is Craig able to
run at the mouth so much? That man's a 
high speed walking talking," her head bobbed
" and coffee drinking, paramedic manual."

Joe chuckled. "No, I don't believe that
about the disappearing coffee thing. Brice's 
just got perfect recall and Kel thinks it's just 
coincidence about the coffee going missing 
from the rooms he's been in. He thinks
that patient visitors are doing it."

"Well, that doesn't fix my dilemma here now
does it..?" and her lower lip quivered and
she started whimpering explicatives, this
time tinged with tearful frustrated barely 
contained rage.

Joe winced. "Oo. Dix. Take it easy. Look,
I got an idea for you. How about calling downstairs
to commissary and ordering a fresh pot of coffee just
for you. You could hide it in Kel's office where
nobody else would find it.." he dangled, studying
the thick gold rings on his fingers mildly."And Kel 
could run interference using his rank to keep the 
rest of the staff away from it while bringing that 
pot directly here."

Dixie's tirade immediately broke off.
"Now why didn't I think of that?" and her
face beamed in discovery at Joe. 

Her face right away fell. "Oh, nuts..!"
she said, leaning on the wall.

"What?"

"The commissary operator on duty's currently ticked
off at me for begging ice off them for the ER
all morning."

"Why is she mad at you for that?" Joe wanted
to know, sipping his newly poured tea.

Dixie's mouth thinned with regret. "Each time 
I called, that girl waved, the you-gotta-have-
a-doctor's-order in my ear two seconds after 
what I wanted was out of my face. I must have 
called down there twelve times today, Joe, looking 
for some. For Treatment One's heatstroke. 
Treatment Three's sprained ankle. Treatment Two's 
first trimester morning sickness." Dixie shook her 
head to erase the images in her mind of the madhouse
morning so recently played out in her recent memory.
"I can't say that I was very charming to her by 
the tenth or eleventh call on hearing that same 
you-must-follow-procedure speech." Dix said 
sheepishly.

"I get the picture. And I can see her point."

"Huh?" Dixie asked not quite hearing him
for the stream of complaints still pouring
out of her lips.

"Ah, Nothing. Oh, Hey, I got it! I'll call down FOR 
you and have it delivered ASAP to Kel's office.
 I'll let him know what's up with your coffee 
exclusitivity plans. I'm on my way in there now 
to see him so we can organize both our notes for 
the all paramedic's meeting this afternoon. Yeah.. 
He can accept the order, sign for it, then run it down 
here. How does that sound?" Joe suggested eagerly.

"Like a godsen--"  The red phone went off
next to Dixie's head, making her startle off
the wall with a yelp. She caught herself
with a groan and blinked in cursing nonverbals
and she picked up the receiver. "Nurse's lounge
this is Dixie McCall."

Joe saw her face sag into new depths of
suffering as she heard the messenger on the
phone deliver news. Dixie hung up the phone 
without looking and started banging her head
against the wall. "Why why why? Oh, geez..
can it get any worse?  OOOghhhh.."

"What's up?" Joe asked. 

"Maintenance called and they're moving
room by room to scrub the ventilation ducts
in all the treatment rooms. I had forgotten
they were going to do that today and I
accidently filled every room with a patient."
She wilted and began bouncing her
head against the wall by the phone.

Thunk.

Thunk.

To Dixie, the action was ....almost soothing.

To Joe, it was a thing of worry.
"Hey, quit doing that. You'll give yourself 
a headache."

"I already got one from not finding any
coffee remember?"" she moaned. But
she stopped thudding her forehead
against the wall.  

But I thought I just figured out how to 
solve that dilemma.." Joe said confused.

"No you didn't. My breaktime's over.." 
Dixie sighed, tapping her wrist watch.
"Oh, h*ll.. See ya on the floor.." and she 
dragged herself back through the lounge 
door with all the weight of the world 
falling heavily back onto her shoulders.


"Hey Dix..!" he called out after her.

"What?!" she snapped.

"Kel can always set up that coffee IV 
push for you, and run your line in brachially."

Dix threw go away hands at him feebly
for the joke as she paced the distance
back to her chart piled desk without 
looking at him, with all the body english
of the classic down trodden, picked on 
playground kid.

Joe chuckled and continued heading down
the hall for Kel's office. 

-----------------------------------------------

"*&%@#! Look out below!" Marco hollered.

The Station 51 gang, minus Cap, clustered 
inside the base of the hose tower where 
they had been watching Marco struggle with
his penalty chore high above, scattered like 
so many chickens.

Sixty feet of soggy heavy hose spaghetti-ed
to the asphalt with a wet smack and the brass
nozzle coupling end rang with a loud bell ping
as it struck the ground before settling still.

Chet cupped a hand and grinned as he
shouted up to his coworker dangling precariously
from his life belt from the haul up apparatus
on the tower frame. "Hey Lopez, Cap's gonna 
flay ya alive if you dent any more of those 
connectors by bouncing them off the pavement 
like that."

Marco glared right back down again, swinging
comically from where he had slipped from
the footstand. "Hey Kelly, I'm gonna loop the next
one around your neck if you don't start zipping
su boca ahora!"

Roy was staying out of it, mildly discomforted by
the tension between Chet and Marco on what was
just payback on a lost bet. "Marco, he didn't mean
it. He's trying to gloat a bit to get more effect out 
of it."

"Yeah? Well you're not helping either.. You're all
staring. I hate it when people stare at me when I'm
doing something new. It makes me clumsy."

Chet was about to issue another retort on the wide
open comment Marco had just made when Gage 
smacked a firm hand over Chet's mouth to hush 
him up. "Chet, enough's enough. Let's all just get
go back inside and give the man some dignity on
figuring out how to hang those things right up
there, ok?"

Kelly turned on his heels and regarded Johnny
eye to eye. "This coming from the number one
gloater at Station 51? Amazing. Gee, Johnny. And 
I was only imitating you, pal. You've been such
an inspiration to me."

"I don't follow."  Gage said levelly.

"Your behavior during our Phantom 
Strikes war last year. Man, that was without a 
doubt, the sweetest example of a pro prankster
role model. Ya gotta gloat."

"Not that much. You've been at him for ten minutes
straight."

"Well, you're all watching. Doesn't that make
you just as guilty of contributing to my supposed
delinquency?"

"Yeah..it sure does. And I'm no longer going
to be an accomplice." Roy said mildly, and he turned 
on his shoes and left for the kitchen door in a show of
instant departure from the yard. "I'll set aside
some dry towels for you, Marco, in the locker room!"

"Thanks. Appreciate it.." the sweaty tired Lopez hollered 
back. Then he regained his feet once more on the platform. 
He restrung the hose's buddy line through the pulley
to hand over hand the errant fallen hose back up
onto the draining tower hook again. 

Marco made it a point to ignore those on the ground.

Soon, his move worked and even Chet lost his desire
to egg Marco while he toughed it out.

There were still nine soggy hoses that needed to
be hauled up manually by rope and drained from
the to do pile.

And the conditions of the bet Chet had outlined
prevented the loser from getting any help doing
the weekly tower chore. 

But soon, Stoker managed to slyly untangle a 
loop in the fallen hose with a foot when Chet 
wasn't looking..

Marco grinned when he saw him from the corner
of his eye. ::Stoker. I love you. There was no way
I was going to climb all the way back down to do
that again..:: he thought in gratitude. ::I owe
you one. Maybe even a whole afternoon's chrome
polishing. That's if I ever get my arms back..::

One by one the guys left for breakfast
and Gage made sure Chet went through the door
without another gloating glance back, with a swift
boot to his rear. "Come on, Caesar.. the arena's 
closed for the day." Gage scowled and he shot Marco
an I'm sticking up for you look before he too
disappeared into the station.

-------------------------------------------------------

Cap was reading the paper in the recliner.
"Was that another nozzle biting the dust a
few minutes ago?"

Johnny studdered. "Ah, no Cap. " he lied.
"That was, uh.. Me.." he grinned badly.
"I was testing out the bell on the old engine.
I mean, we...have to make sure it's still in good
condition after all winter under that tarp. Right?"

"Hmph." Cap grunted from behind the stocks
page.

Johnny decided the grunt was one of agreement
and that his fibbing worked. ::I'll sneak back
out there after breakfast and help Marco pound
that nozzle round again before Cap discovers
it.:: He eased down onto the leather couch
and immediately stood up again when he
realized that he had almost sat down on their
mascot. "Oh, sorry Henry.. Didn't see you there."

"How could ya miss him, Gage. He's fatter than
a turkey and he fills up that whole side of the 
couch." Kelly quipped. "I think, Henry needs to
go on a diet."

"Sounds like someone else I know.." Cap
said seriously. "You know, a rep of 200 pushups
might not be such a bad idea for you. And that's getting
off light for a fireman who's just lied to his captain."

His intended target, cleared his throat nervously.
"Sorry, Cap. I'm having second thoughts about
getting payback on our chili cooking contest bet 
like this." Gage said suddenly on the hot seat.

"Right. " Stoker said sarcastically teasing. 
"If I ever believe that, H*ll'll freeze over." 
Stoker quipped.

All the gang laughed,except Chet.

"Geez, that's the last time I ever take
up a betting challenge with you guys.
Marco's just being a sore loser that's all.
I can't believe you guys bought his I'm so
wounded act." Kelly complained.

"He wasn't acting." Gage glared. 
"Chet, there's collecting a bet and then there's
cruelty. You standing there watching him
was definitely uncool."

"Well, I didn't see any one blindfolding your
eyes shut, pal. I wasn't alone dodging those
hoses Marco dropped now was I?"

"That doesn't count. We weren't saying
anything." Roy said.

"You didn't have to, you heard Marco. He
said that being stared was just as bad."

"Oh, Chet. You're impossible.." Gage said.

"No, I'm just right for once so live with it."

Cap finally cleared his throat, more than
a few times. "Do I detect a little animosity 
here? I mean, I know we had a little too many
weird and useless runs last night that kept
us from getting much sleep, but this is
just plain unprofessional behavior I'm hearing
now."

"Cap.. How can you say that? You're a part of
it. You were the one who judged who's
chili was best.."

"Yeah, well you didn't see me out there 
staring like an MVA gawker now, did you?"

That shut Kelly up and the feeling of tension
in the room died away.

Only the sounds of eating filled the air during
the rest of the meal. Everyone winced when
they heard another hose nozzle bite the dust out
in the yard.

------------------------------------------------

Photo:  Dix and Joe at the ER main desk.

Photo:  Marco, Chet and Johnny beneath
           the station's hose tower in the yard.

Photo:  Roy in the yard, looking accomodating.

************************************
From : "Cory Anda" <andacory@hotmail.com>  
Subject :[EmergencyTheaterLive] One Thing After Another...  
Date : Sun, 27 Apr 2003 22:59:02 +0000  
    

Marco Lopez finally had the tower squared away.

One hand was still grooming his hair into
place with a comb while the other shovelled 
breakfast into his mouth at a rapid fire rate
when the inevitable call went out. 
"Madre dios! No otra vez.." Lopez cursed. 
"Always at a meal time." he grumbled throwing
both comb and fork onto his plate.

The rich tones from the speaker grill continued
to sound a multiple tone run.

Chet Kelly rose from his seat at the kitchen
table, wiping his mouth with a hasty napkin.
"I'm surprised you're surprised Marco. It's
always once again around here." he said
spinning around neatly in a dodge to
avoid Stoker's chair as the engineer bailed
it.

"Let's move out.." Cap hollered, abandoning
his paper and apple. "Here ya go, boy. I 
promise you an ample feeding of a lot more 
when we get back.." And he sailed a crisp
meaty missile of bacon high into the air 
in the general direction of the station's snoozing
basset hound.

Henry's slumped body suddenly animated
and his head shot up from the depths of
the couch to intercept the tasty treat with
a tail wag of instant forgiveness.

Gage gulped down the rest of his milk
and half a banana as he and Roy jogged to
the rescue squad after the rest of the gang.
He chucked his banana peel out the window
neatly into a mop bucket leaning against the 
map wall.

##Station 51 with Station 10 and Truck 127. 
Unknown type rescue at the Los Angeles City Zoo.
18 south Ramsfeld Ave. Cross street, Hollywood Blvd. 
18 south Ramsfeld Ave. Crosstreet, Hollywood Blvd.
Informant on location requests all on response,
to enter at the eastern gate. Time out, 9: 04.##

--------------------------------------------------

Station 51 arrived first to the scene.

Captain Stanley eyed where they were to go
from his place, bouncing in the cab seat and
he voiced one single solitary question to 
Mike, as he swung the wide wheel hard to
the left to turn onto the zoo property.
"Well, I'll be. Stoker. What day is it today?"

"Sunday.." he replied.

"Right. Then just where the heck are all
the people? This parking lot's empty.."
he muttered.

Chet and Marco rubbernecked out the engine
windows from where they were fussing into
their trenchcoats. The squad and engine's
sirens died away and they all piled out
of the vehicles. Only birdsong met their
ears. That and the wind.

Roy and Johnny ran up with all their
med gear and a stokes stretcher. "Cap, we got it all. 
Roy wants to know if we should pack more 
rope in with the stokes here just in case w--"

He broke off, seeing the engine gang
standing mute and puzzled at the wrought
iron gate that was ajar, next to the big
metal sculpture of mountain gorillas.
Roy and John were caught up in the 
not quite right feel of the location.

Stanley pinwheeled around in place,
his HT firmly in hand as he located the
sign labelling the gate where they idled
on the curb. "What the h*ll? This IS
the east gate... Where's our informant?"
Cap knew he had the right place since
he could see the responding fire truck
and station called with them just entering
the corner of the avenue framing the 
huge empty parking lot on their way
in.

"Hey!  Fire Department!" Gage called
out inside the gate, hefting the weight
of the gear inside of the stokes between
him and a very quiet and alert Roy. Chet 
and Marco moved to help them manage
their load.

There was no reply. Johnny's voice echoed 
eerily through the fake stony animal exhibit
cliffs and ringing eucalyptus trees dotting 
that side of the city zoo.  There wasn't any
sign of anyone at all rushing up in a panic to 
tell them exactly what the problem was.

Cap got on the horn. "L.A., This is station 51,
We're on scene. Stand by for details."

##10-4, 51.##

"Ok. Everyone.. You know the drill. Let's just...
get in there and have a look around. If this
is just a false alarm, I want to be doubly sure
of it before we call it off. Stoker charge a line
just in case this is a fire call."

"Right, Cap.." they said.

Hank led the way through the entrance gate
and into the zoo and his men followed with
the gear laden stokes.

Inside, all was eerily quiet. Even the overhead
skyway ride.

Kelly mumbled to the others. "Man. Where
is everyone? This is a weekend, shouldn't there
be droves of people enjoying themselves right
now?"

"That's my understanding of it.." Lopez muttered,
loosening his helmet strap.

Cap and the men eagle eyed everything, alert
for anything that might happen.

What they didn't expect was a galloping camel
running down the neat asphalt path, bellowing
in fear.

The gang barely got out of the way as the
dromedary lumbered by, foaming at the mouth
and gasping as it ran in the heat, past them.

They had barely registered that fact into
their minds when a low peeled threat call came 
from the direction from which the camel had run.

The stunned firemen froze as a snarling black
panther, quite uncaged and free, crouched to
hiss at them in fear and anger.

Cap lifted his HT. "Stoker.. We need that charged
two inch with refrigeration now. We've a loose
predator on us fifty meters down our path." he said 
quickly and quietly.

Mike Stoker was there in less than fifteen seconds, 
backing up his crewmates with a fizzing nozzle 
aimed at the cat.

"Easy.. Don't hit him. Just scare him." Cap ordered.

The sun glistening ebony panther fled at the sound of
the hissing barely contained pressurized water Mike 
released at a touch on his hose bar.

It headed in the direction of the
camel, uphill and into thicker cover.

"That would explain why there are no people
around Cap.." Kelly said, swallowing around a very
dry throat.

Hank frowned, very very frustrated with the way
things were going. "Open cages? No one around?
What is this? Some kind of re-enactment of the 
Day of the Animals going on here?"

"I loved that movie, Cap." Kelly chuckled.
"But I don't think there's any filming scheduled
for today. I should know. My sister lives a few blocks
from here. Besides, there's no wrangler running 
after those two."

"Somehow, I'd feel better knowing that this whole
thing WAS a movie set, Chet. But things aren't
feeling like that situation at all." Cap said, listening
to an intuition that was screaming at him.

Gage adjusted his helmet. "I know what you mean.
Something's not right here."

"Duh.." Kelly said, throwing a careless glove in
the direction the big cat had bounded. "Didn't
you notice our very large friend with all the teeth 
a few moments ago?"

Mike Stoker began to relax and just sealed
off the hose to closed again with a grin.

The other guys chuckled.

Gage said. "I saw him. I saw him. I'm...talking
about the lack of people around here. I just wanna
know how they vacated the premesis so fast.
I mean, even if there's an escaped animal or two,
there's bound to be some crazy yokel who'll want
to hang around despite things, just to watch.
Just like they do all the time at our fire calls.
But I don't even see any of them right now."

That sobered up everyone.

"What's scarier than a four hundred pound very hungry
black panther?" Hank asked frankly, still eyeballing 
where the cat had gone warily.

Roy swallowed. "Do we really want to find out?"

Hank blinked. "Gee, that's why we were called 
I suspect. Stoker, stay close with that hose
and have it set to tight stream for our security."

"It's set.." Stoker replied.

Cap got on his HT. "Engine 51 to Station 10
and Truck 127. Hold your position. Notify
Animal Control that we have a panther and
camel loose on the grounds. There may be
others nearby. We've a water line with us for 
safety."

##10-4. Standing by, Engine 51..## The caps of
10's and Truck 127 replied over the frequency.

The gang slowly moved up the path in the direction
the two escapees had come, dragging gear and
primed ice water hose behind them.

Three wild animals later, Station 51 located
the problem at a loud clattering sound
that made their hearts leap into their throats.

A man, fully clothed in jeans and nothing else,
was climbing like an ape in an empty seeming
exhibit with a row of keys and chains dangling 
from his pocket up where he darted about the 
rocks.

He spotted the firemen and began to laugh
drunkenly.

"Bingo.." Kelly quipped. "Try a zoo employee
suffering an O.D. of some kind."

"Now I've seen it all.." Hank's eyes shot up.

"Shh,, or you'll jinx us. The day's not over yet."
Marco complained.

"Ok... let's have at it." Cap said, and he
took off his helmet to appear less threatening
to the man. "Everyone, inside. And shut the
door behind ya. Believe it or not, we'll be safer
in, than out here."

No one argued and the stokes, hose and gear
quickly piled onto the yellow dirt in the animal
exhibit.

Mike Stoker tensed as a dust cloud and snorting
met them from the left. They all unlocked once
more when they saw the animals that called the
enclosure the man had invaded, home.

"Whew.. Just pigs this time..." Kelly sighed.

"They're peccaries.." Gage corrected.

"What?" Hank asked.

"Wild pigs..I remember similar ones from 
the reservation.. They won't harm us. They'll
run first. Just stay away from the piglets."

Roy was ignoring the idle chitchat going on
around him. His attention was fully on the man
swaying like a monkey on the rocky shelf above
their heads. "Hey... are you ok? We came to help
you out a bit here." he spoke softly, moving slow.

"Fat chance fire boy. You don't wanna help me.
You wanna help them..." the sweating manic man
gasped. To Roy, he looked violent. 

Then he saw the fresh oozing track marks on the 
man's arms and was assured that his first impression
was a correct one. "Heroin..or something else." 
he sighed.

Cap's eyes fell to where Roy noticed those signs.
"Looks like.. Ok,  everyone, stay still and let
Johnny and Roy handle him. Mike, make sure
the way outta here's blocked."

"We're locked in. I just closed the exhibit's
gate." Stoker admitted.

At those words the young wild haired man
in blue jeans began to wail and fret. He started
to scramble on the rocks and very nearly slipped
on loose stone up where he was.

Johnny threw out a hand. "Easy! Now we're not
gonna hurt you. Careful.. Or you're gonna fall
and hurt yourself.."

"Whatda you care?" their victim slurred.
"You justwanna come and get me so the
fuzz can arrest me..."

"Do I look like I'm wearing a pistol and cuffs?
I'm not a cop here. Just a paramedic."

At that word, the man's attention shifted from
suspicion to craving. "Y- you got drugs down
there? Really? Uh,.." and he scratched his
feverish face, swatting at the dust in his
nose. "Can I ..uh,...wanna share?"

Gage's eyes flickered only for a moment
in hesitation. Then his brainstorming began.
He crouched down over the stokes and slowly,
cautiously flipped open the drug and IV box.
"Yeah man.. Look, I got some nice stuff..
Won't cost ya much.." he grinned in an act.
"The first hit's free. Just like the west side.
A real deal.."

"I don't believe you." said the agitated man.
"I don't even know you!" he shouted.

"Does it matter..?" Gage shot back, setting
his hands on his hips. "Look I haven't got all
day. My buyer's gonna wonder where I am
with the stuff if I'm not there in...twenty
minutes.." Johnny made up. "And you know
how that goes. I'll pay for the delay.. in skin.."

The drug high man angled his head.
"Prove your worth pusher.. I ain't got all day."

Gage's face fell for one sec while the gang
around him licked nervous lips and all had a full curiosity
about what he would do next in his victim negotiation.

Roy crossed his arms in amusement.

And Cap felt confident enough to put his helmet
back on.

Johnny snatched up a saline push and unsheathed
it, hiding its label so the man wouldn't see its
non drug label's color. Then he tied on a tourniquet 
and fitted a needle onto the syringe. "Ooh, yeah. 
This is meperidine. Gives me a good rush. Especially
on boring days like today. And its clean, Mac. Not cheap 
home lab sh*t. I think I'm gonna shoot it all
for me since I don't like the way you're talking."

He fingered a vein and stuck the needle home
into his own arm and started depressing the 
plunger, sending the liquid in with a sigh.

"No! Wait man... I was only kidding.. I trust ya.."
the man fretted. "Gimme some.." 

From behind him, a Marco and Stoker he didn't
see, on ropes, tackled him from their place on
the rocks and drove him to the ground.

The man's drug enflamed rush surged into the superhuman
and Lopez and Mike were flung off like wet clothes.

The man was free again and he attacked the next
nearest person he saw. The drug crazed man leaped
from where he was on the ledge, right onto Cap.

--------------------

Photo: Cap and Marco laughing in the kitchen.

Photo: Gage pointing to a med in the drug box.

Photo: A zoo exhibit full of wild pigs.

Photo: The Engine and Squad pulled next to
          stately palm trees.

Photo: A camel in a rocky pen.

Photo: The gang looking down with gear at something
          in full turnout.
 
**********************************
Date: Thu, 1 May 2003 14:51:02 +0100 (BST) 
From: "Katherine Bird" <kathbird01@yahoo.co.uk>   
Subject:  Double Jeopardy, Porker Style.. 


"Cap!" Roy shouted even as he watched
Johnny pulled the needle out of his arm to
fling it away from them all to help block
the coming impact.

Stanley neatly dodged the fullest weight of
his attacker but his helmet still jolted off
when super strong arms caught him
around the throat.

Marco and Mike were frantically untangling from 
their ropes as Chet, John, Roy and Cap all 
wrestled with the biting, fighting crazed
zoo worker in silent desperate gasps.

"Watch his head! Watch his head!" Johnny
shouted as they all grunted to get a hold
on the wildly aggressive man. 

Stanley's HT clattered to the dirt and
went off in a loud squelch, which startled the
nervous milling peccaries on the far sunny side
of the enclosure. The older boars began to
snort and face the humans in nervous expectation,
taking a position in front of the smaller sows
and piglets in their band and they snorted 
and pawed the amber dust in a threat display.

All this, was unseen by the firemen struggling
to restrain their victim who was still locked in 
a dangerous overdose.

Marco and Stoker had just joined the fray
when the gasping, screaming young man
noodled impossibly out of all their grips and
bounded up immediately onto very fast, 
wobbly feet. 

He took off running straight for a thickly 
bushed side of the animal enclosure. The
peccaries squealed and got out of his way,
creating a thick cloud of yellow dust as 
they avoided the running human arrowing 
drunkenly at them.

The gang pursued after him, top speed.

Roy threw his HT up to his mouth speaking
in between painful breaths as he, too, ran
full tilt into the direction where the sick man 
had disappeared.

"Station 10 on the double. Follow our hose! 
We've a fighter OD who's getting away.."

## There in one..## came a loud reply.
Roy could see several of 10's firefighters
booking down the main zoo tar path using 51's
strung hose as a guide. He heard their shoes 
scuff on the sandy trail as they raced 
over from the deserted parking lot to help out.

"In here! In here!" Cap waved at the other engine
crew. He wiped a smear of his blood off his lips as he 
ordered his own men to circle the not yet spotted
zoo worker. "Gang, when you bird eye him, stay AWAY 
from him. Your safety is first! Just form a ring around 
this character and cut off his escape. And for G*d's 
sake, don't agitate him further. I want no one else getting
a hunk ripped outta them. Stoker, use the hose if he 
attacks us again."

"Right, Cap." Mike said.

Soon, it was apparent that their crazy drugged up 
junkie, had gotten himself into a good hiding place.

Cap issued a tight
order. "Ok, everybody. Fan out. We'll
give this five minutes. Then we're outta
here until the cops come. The danger
to us is just too great."

"Cap.." Chet said. "That guy really needs
us. It hasn't been that bad yet.."

"Just look at my face and throat and tell
me that again, Kelly. I said no more after
five."

Chet moused down.

"You ok, Cap?" Gage said, keeping his eyes on 
the brush thicket's edge where they had all 
skidded to a halt.

"Bruised only, Gage. Concentrate on him
and not me. He's first."

The gang circled around like pursuers in
a hide and seek game, separating into pairs
under the darkness of the wooded section of 
the exhibit. 

They all lost sight of each other and that made
Hank Stanley nervous. "Keep within earshot." 
he shouted. "And keep those helmets on.."

Minutes dragged by of stealthy, cautious
searching.

Johnny Gage and Roy gestured silently to each
other at a particularly loud rustle in
the thick vegetation right in front of them during
their sweep of the forested side of the enclosure.

Gage leaned over to peer over the low rhododendron.
"Roy! He's right here.. he's--" he hissed.
 
A sharp squeal of rage preceded an angry charging
two hundred pound peccary boss as the animal
flew at Gage who had inadvertantly located his 
band's hiding place.

"Whoa!!" Gage shouted in alarm, spinning away,
barely avoiding the click of pig fangs at his face.

"Johnny?!" Mike shouted, raising the hose nozzle
from the ground. Stoker fought to drag the heavy hose
through the tallish grass with two other of ten's 
firemen in a desperate attempt to have one cocked 
and aimed point blank against Johnny's 
attacking peccary. "We're coming! Turning on the 
hose in--"

"No, don't..! Wait  a sec.." Johnny shouted, scrambling 
away from the animal nimbly until he regained his 
footing in a patch of sandy dust, like a matador avoiding 
a bull. Then Gage threw out a hand and kept the squealing 
hairy animal off of him by ramming a stiff arm and hand 
against the pig's forehead to keep the gnashing charges 
the boar was launching at him firmly at bay. 
"I'm ok.. I got him.. He's not getting to me.
Just go get the guy! Don't spray ANY of that charged 
water on the pigs you hear me?! It'll drive em into a 
frenzy..You'll bring the juveniles down on us, too.
They'll gang up big time to get us just like this boar's
doing to me."

Gage was surprised by the tenacity of the enraged
boar who showed absolutely no fear as he continued 
furiously trying to get at him. "I'm not bothering your band 
you stupid thing. Cut it out!" he shouted at him, gasping
with his efforts to hold the pissed pig male away from
his body. "Get off!" he shouted at the snorting, 
slobbering peccary mob boss. 

Roy moved nearer.


"Stay back.. Roy!"
Johnny tried to push away the boar with a shoving shoe into 
a shoulder but the pig just rushed right back at him with an 
even angrier raised tail and got quickly into another pushing 
match of pig forehead versus fumbling human hands once 
again.

"Johnny! Careful! Shall I rope him?" Marco said, 
gathering one up from the ground.

"No.. It won't work, he'll just dodge it. Guys, look, I'm
fine. He'll give up once he sees I got the message here.." 
Gage panted. "Go help over there. But whatever you do, 
don't go near the sows or any of those young in there
or you'll be trampled and tusk shredded into hamburger."

"But.."

"Go.. I'm really fine." Gage said, still face to face 
with the red eyed, furious, one track minded, boar.
"He's just driving me off." 

Johnny had a healthy respect for the five inch long fangs 
that tried to slash up at his bare arm and he frequently
shifted hands to avoid them. "Guys, go. I know how 
to get out of this..UgggHHHh! " he verbally spat. "The wild 
pigs charge me all the time at the ranch when I get too 
close going to get the horses. All ya gotta do is wait 
em out.. Just give me some distance.  He'll think better
of this soon and he'll leave." he grunted, still
holding the heavy male pig away from himself.
 
Roy muttered, just as torn as Marco on what to
do for his partner. Then he decided, motioning
to Lopez. "Our OD doesn't have a lotta time left. 
He's gonna go down."

"Exactly.. I'll join up with ya.." Johnny said,
not taking his eyes off the grunting, attacking
pig still locked nose to hand with him. 
"I'm ok. Just go! This boar'll give up in a minute 
or so. I've seen this before. He's gonna fret 
about being so far away from his sows."

Roy and Marco and Mike reluctantly backed 
away from Johnny still dancing in his bizarre 
embrace.

"What a crazy day.." DeSoto muttered. "Holy
cr*p." he shook his head. Then he said,
"Come on..let's get out of here like
Johnny says." and he motioned to the others
to follow him back onto the search. "Our
victim's bound to be feeling a downer swing
by now. He wrestled with us pretty good there
and that most likely elevated his BP into 
circulating even more of that junk into 
his brain. He's probably not that far from-"

A shout from Cap brought the two of them on the run
through sixty feet of stinging, thick brush.

Roy, Marco and Mike ran towards the voice
as fast as they could.

Hank said. "He's over there somewhere!" and he pointed
to a stand of trees. "Lord all mighty what's he
doing in there?" he asked as Marco and Roy 
pelted up to his side. He was using a gauze
pad from his pocket to hold down the bleeding
from his tongue which he had bitten earlier.

Roy and Marco and another clump of firemen
from ten's all froze. Roy recognized the sounds.
"Oh boy. He's tangling with a pig."

"How do you know?" Hank asked.

"Cause I just left Johnny who's doing the same thing."

"What?!" Hank's head whipped around.
"What are you talking about? Gage's right here."

Roy saw his dusty sweating partner jogging
swiftly towards them through the tangle of
California jungle. "Never mind, Cap. Just trust
me about him over there. It's not gonna be a 
pretty scene."

"Ok, what next?" Stanley said, parking his hands
on his jacket hips.

"Water. Lots of it.." Gage said.

Marco whined. "But I thought you said not
to use a hose on them.."

"The frenzy's begun Lopez, that's why. 
It may already be too late for him.
Come on!"

And he ran in the lead towards the sound
of fighting just ahead under the tall sequoia
at the corner of the exhibit. The man had
tried to take refuge in an open whelping
shed that had a keeper's bed in it.

Both companies of ten and 51 froze
in horror at what they saw.  The OD'd young
man was down on the ground and the angry
female peccaries were taking turns using him 
as a football and punching bag.

Some of the infuriated sows were so strong
their bites actually lifted the unconscious 
man's whole upper torso a foot off the dirt 
as they tossed their heads to bite him.

Mike Stoker let loose a peel of sharply
knifed water against those closest to the 
injured man without a moment to lose.

Sows tumbled like nine pins under the
force of the water and squealed. Others wheeled 
around in place to face the new threat in
a quickly forming bunched counter attack.

"Hit the piglets, Mike! Hit the piglets.. Get em wet!"
Johnny shouted. "Their mamas will go running
for them at their screaming distress calls."

Stoker changed his hose stream to a fountaining
fan and aimed it up into the sky. An ice cold 
drenching soaked the tiny piglets bunched in
a protective circle and on cue, the tiny porkers
let loose high pitched cries of alarm and clamour.

The sows left the zoo worker's trampled body
alone, zooming out to herd up their babies and 
soon the whole dripping bunch was hastily
loping away from the humans with tails raised 
in sheer terror.

Stoker dropped the hose.

Johnny grimaced as he rolled the bluish
man over. "Oh.." he sighed in horror at
the sight of fresh peccary slashes
covering the man's chest. But he bent 
an ear close anyway to the man's
torn mouth as his dirty stained fingers
felt for a neck pulse, too.  "He's in that 
downer for sure. Brady with apnea."

"Go get the gear!" Cap shouted to Marco
and half a dozen others.

Soon, they could hear men coming
with the laden stokes they had
left in the main clearing by the zoo's
pathway fence and moat.

Gage started to breathe for the
man until Stoker handed him an ambu
bag and mask. "Thanks.."

Johnny looked up at Roy. "He's got a rate
of 40. It's not enough. Start CPR timed
with it."

"Marco.. You got that?" DeSoto asked.

"Yeah.." And Lopez starting working off
Johnny's pulse rhythm cues as to when
to apply his compressions. He kept his
gloves on so his hands wouldn't slip in
the blood on the man's skin that was
oozing down from the pig bites.

"These lacerations don't look that bad.
He's lucky.." Gage said. "There's only
that one broken arm."

"I see it." Roy agreed.  "Any sign of vomiting?"

"No.. He's out deep." Gage replied.
"Chet, turn on the audio on the EKG
monitor. It'll help Marco out to time
his pacing properly."

"Right.." Kelly replied. But he kept looking over
his back for any signs of the peccary band,
and that irritated Johnny.

"Pay attention, Kelly. Just concentrate on 
patching him in there. We don't have all day.." Cap 
snapped. "We've haven't got a lot of time left
for us to try and actually get a save in
the bag for this man."

"Sorry, Cap.." Chet apologized, ending his
rubber necking. "It's just that they might 
come barreling back out of nowhere at any s--"

Stoker spoke up louder than usual.
"Any that come near are going to eat
some serious water, Kelly. Don't you worry."
he promised.

Hank smiled around his fat lip as he
unlatched, then kicked open, the
squad's defibrillator case with a toe.
At a nod from Johnny, he turned on
the power up switch to standby.
"That's my anchor man. Stoker, you're
being wasted on the engine dials. You're
an absolute ace on that hose."

"The engine's more fun, Cap. Sorry.
I'm not planning on a demotion any time
soon."

"Such a pity.." Hank sighed.

"I'll call Rampart." Roy said smiling
as the worst of his stress melted
away. He was very very glad to have his
hands on their victim at last.  He
concentrated on getting on the biophone 
as fast as he could.
"Rampart Base, this is Squad 51. How
do you read?"

Chet bit his lip, grinning, too. 
"Ok, Marco.. it's CPR symphony time.
Pow.." he muttered as he turned on
the slow weak audio cue on the EKG
speaker. "It's show time."

Marco began coordinating his compressions
when the man's drugged slow heart rate actually
beat by listening to the machine's mechanical
blipping. After half a minute he asked
the swiftly working paramedics. 
"Should I speed up?"

"Not yet. Don't want any more of
that stuff or whatever's he's shooting
to get to his brain any worse than it already
has until we inject some Narcan. He's holding
his own ok now with you just helping out like you are. 
Stay exact with your assisting, on the beat." 
Roy told him, without looking up. He didn't even 
smile some encouragement to his crewmate, for
already his mind was considering five paramedic 
problems at once.

Again, he hailed Rampart while one of ten's
medics tried to get a viable BP off the man's good 
arm. "Rampart this is rescue 5-1..Do you copy?"
his voice angled yet again, only a little more
urgently. The heart rate on the monitor
continued to weaken and slow.

------------------------------------------

Photo:  An angry peccary charging at
           you with another photo inset
           of one baring its five inch long tusks.

Photo : Johnny with a shirtless near code,
           looking distressed.

Photo: Roy looking fight bedraggled, on
          the biophone.

***********************************
From: "Clairissa Fox" <canaryyello01@yahoo.co.uk>   
Date: Thu, 1 May 2003 20:14:52 +0100 (BST) 
Subject:  [EmergencyTheaterLive] The Little Eyes 

 
The little piglet shook its head and squealed some
more until his dam nuzzled his ear. Where was the lady
keeper? There were only man things in the wood. And
another man thing who smelled funny had become an
enemy because he got too close by moving fast and
kicking the other dams in the band. The memory of the
new creatures in his pen had frightened Piglet badly
but the odd acting man thing was no longer attacking
him or his dams. He was flat on the ground and smelled
like blood now.

Piglet thought hard on what just happened. The strange
keeper man thing had been easy to fight down. The
piglet remembered how the man thing with the zoo keys
fell with only one charge from his mother.

Now other man things had come who wore canvas skins
and black head covers and they had the great water
snake with them. Piglet was afraid of that. His coat
still ran with water from the liquid that had come
from the snakes mouth and down from the sky that didnt
smell like rain.

But piglet was puzzled now. There was one man thing
with curly head fur who seemed like the keeper who
cared for them all in the rising light. The other man
things had soundings for him that sounded like the
same calling Piglets human friend had. Chuck. Only
this one was called Chet. It was all very puzzling
indeed. Piglet had never before seen so many man
things in his home before. Only on the days when the man
thing with the biting stingers wearing the white skin coat
came to put some of the band to sleep before he pawed
them.

Piglet forgot his wet hide and he snuck away from
his mothers band towards Chet and he sniffed and he
sniffed hard on the wind. Piglet checked carefully but
the man thing with the water snake didnt see him at
all.

Piglets caution disappeared instantly.

Sugar!

Piglet ran up to the human things where they were
pawing at the sick human in the dirt. He could still
smell the treat in the Chet man things black rear
cover and he nuzzled it making the Chet man thing
squawk.

Piglet dashed a short distance away at the noise but
he was hungry. He came at the curly furred man thing
again looking for the treat he usually got from the
keepers.

Hey! The tall white and black head covered man thing
pointed a paw at Piglet. Watch it. Theres one of the
baby piglets behind you Chet.

Piglet didnt smell danger from Chet or the leader man
thing so he went right on going after the treat he
could smell.

----------------------------------

Photo : A wild pig dam and one of its babies.

Photo: Chet and Marco and Cap looking
          down and surprised at something at 
          their feet.

Photo: A close up of an adorable wild piglet baby.

***************************
Date: Sat, 3 May 2003 14:22:03 -0700 (PDT) 
From: "Sam Iam" <lafddispatcher@yahoo.com>  
Subject:  The Short Shelf Life.. 


Chet Kelly was leaving his place by their 
shocky victim's side, making room for the second
paramedic from station ten to step in, when
he whirled in alarm at Cap's warning.
"What?" he startled as clammy animal nose 
butted into him again. "Where did he come 
from?"

Kelly watched his feet as he backed away 
on his knees so he wouldn't crush the 
miniscule piglet still nuzzling his rear pocket. 
"Hey,.. watch it buddy! You're just a 
bite of bacon but you're in the way!" Chet 
told it indignantly.

The piglet just squealed in ambivalent twitchy
reply as he warred with his instincts: to run at the 
sound of Chet's sharp voice or stay for the reward. 

The baby peccary's stomach ended up making 
the final decision. He kept on seeking out the 
source of sugar he had found with a probing
snuffle.

Beyond Chet, Cap looked up, suddenly hyper-alert. 
"Uh oh. If he's here, where's mama?" he 
wondered out loud.

Mike Stoker shrugged diffidently, but he primed his
hose to its releasing edge again and began to 
check out the trees and cover nearest to them.

Marco spoke up from where he was still
doing CPR. "Chet.....better get rid......of
that little......guy. There's no ......way his
sow's not .....gonna come investigating 
once......she's learned he's strayed." he said.

Chet Kelly quickly panicked, whipping off 
a glove and fumbled into his pocket for the 
pack of Juicy Fruit gum the tiny infant pig 
seemed to be orienting on. 

Kelly waved the wrinkled pack in front of the 
piglet's face until he was sure the baby was 
following it.."You want some? Huh? Let's 
strike a deal. Eat now, then scram. I'll give 
you this but you're gonna have to leave for 
good afterwards. All right?"

"Squeeeallll!" the baby snorted in frustration
as it fought to climb onto Chet to reach
the sugary gum he still held in his hand.

"Get down or you'll hurt yourself!" Chet
complained. Then he sighed. "Here ya go ya 
dumb thing.."  He said, hastily unpeeling a strip
of it under the baby's eager nose. 

Fast fangy teeth snatched up the offering, making 
Chet yelp. 

"Oww. Stop that! Now go get it." and Kelly grenade 
tossed the rest of his dusty pack as far as he could
over the bushes into the open so that it was well away 
from the firemen working on the nearly dead man on 
the ground.  "Shoo..!" he said waving his hands in 
the air in flurry of gesturing fingers.

The piglet was the perfect porcine, street
smart runt. He followed the gum pack's trajectory 
through the air like a pro frisbee dog and went instantly 
running for it in an attempt to get there before 
any of his other unseen siblings could. He motored
towards where it had plunked into the dust top 
speed, but he was already too late.

There was a scuffling as three other
piglets caught wind of the sweetly scented
treat and a fight broke out between Chet's
pocket nudger and the others. 

Chet winced in sympathy when his little
"visitor" got knocked down by an older baby.

"Ooo. Careful ya dummy."
Then in embarrassment at his remark, he added.
"That should hold him, Cap." Kelly said, turning
back to the scene in front of him.

Cap said. "Let's hope so. If the band discovers
us anywhere near those guys, there'll be h*ll 
to pay."

Stoker grumbled. "No there won't, Cap.
I'll push em all away if they come 
around again if I have to.." and he hefted the 
hose nozzle in his gloves a bit higher.
 
"Only as a last resort." Cap said.
"Don't want to traumatize the little 
tykes any more than we have to."
He barely contained a grin as the original 
curious piglet finally won the battle and 
loped off with the trampled gum pack in his 
mouth. The losers pursued, hot on his heels.

"And don't come back!" Chet told him. 
"A deal's a deal." he shouted.

The light moment had gone unnoticed by
the four paramedics struggling to save the life
of the overdosed zoo worker.

Roy finally got a returning hail from
the biophone receiver, ending his doubts
about the terrain interfering.

##This is Rampart." Dixie replied. "Go
ahead 51.##

"Rampart. We've a male down with
an apparent OD with clear indications
of fresh trackmarks. He's nonbreathing with
a pulse of 40. CPR's ongoing. He's got
additional injuries due to an animal attack;
a left broken radius and ulna and multiple 
wild pig bites to his neck, face and chest. 
Negative on C-spine or head injury. Vitals are..
BP...50 systolic. Pupils are pinprick and he's
unresponsive to both verbal and pain stimuli. 
He's got a Glasgow rating of four. All bleeding 
is now under control." DeSoto said as
he saw Johnny make a cut throat gesture
and then a point at the pads firmly taped
over all the wounds.

Kel Brackett arrived into the alcove
and took over the response call for his head 
nurse. "10- 4, 51. Maintain his airway and continue
to ventilate him. Continue the CPR and send 
us a strip. First we've got to determine
if his problem really is an overdose and not
some other etiology. Draw a red top for glucose.
Administer 1 mg glucagon IM if his blood sugar's 
below 60 mg %. Also follow up with 100 mgs 
Thiamine and 25 gm dextrose 50% IV if you can
get a line into your blood stick site. Use Normal 
Saline, and draw up .4 milligrams Narcan. 
We're gonna end his downer right now any way
we can. Also, be sure to immobilize
that fracture to prevent further injury."

"10-4." And Roy repeated his string of orders
and if-this-then-that instructions.

Almost two minutes went by when
Roy turned to Johnny, with a third needle 
bloodied from yet another failed attempt to find 
and stick a vein with an IV catheter. His blood
drawing had blown the last remaining clear vein
and he was reduced to blind probing. 
"He's got nothing left here." he grunted in 
irritation.

"How about a jugular..?" Johnny suggested.

"Good idea." and Roy got out a new cathed needle
to try his luck there in the man's neck.

Again, Roy's IV stick failed due to the
man's very low blood pressure. He
shook his head in frustration and abandoned
the attempt. "No good." and he tossed away 
the needle guide. "He's too far down. Is there
a place he hasn't used? Kelly, get his shoes off
and pants off. Check his feet and legs for
other veins. Use a tourniquet to raise any
if you can."

Kelly reached over and grabbed the shears
from Johnny's holster. "On it."
The jeans pants legs banana peeled swiftly 
away, revealing pale, sweaty skin.

Mike helped bare the man's feet.

Roy picked up the phone. "Rampart.
An IV may not be an option. Looks like
he's a heavy user." Roy said tersely as
he watched Chet and Marco located scar after 
scar where the druggie had shattered all his 
reachable veins while baselining his drug of 
choice.

Brackett already had an alternative plan.
## 51, go ahead and insert an endotrach tube.
I'm giving you authorization to do one in the
field. I'll accept full responsibility.## Kel
said to Roy.

Roy sighed in stress. "Affirmative Rampart.
Stand by.."

CPR was halted while Roy, the better airway
expert, got out a laryngoscope and inserted
one carefully. Ten's medics helped him get
the man's head and neck into the right position
and then took over Johnny's place on the ambu.

Things went slow, but it went. And soon
their victim was set. Roy picked up the phone. 
"Rampart the ET is in."

Brackett nodded his head in satisfaction.
##Knew you could pull it off. Now increase
your Narcan to two times the IV dosage I originally
ordered and fill it with a following bolus of
10 ml Lactated Ringers/Normal Saline. Hyperventilate
his lungs thoroughly, stop CPR, then titrate the Narcan
directly into his ET tube only to the minimum level
necessary for a return of respirations. Ventilate him 
firmly until you're sure the flush's been fully absorbed. 
You'll hear when that happens. Watch him closely, 51. 
When the Narcan starts counteracting his narcotic, 
if he's on one, he may spontaneously awaken so be 
prepared to extubate him before he has a chance to 
vomit.##

"10-4, Rampart..  .8 mgs Narcan with 10 ml
LR/NS by ET. Please stand by.." 

##Standing by..## 

Soon, Dr. Brackett's orders had been carried out
in the tense minutes which followed.

Johnny Gage was on the man's arm like
a tick and he rapidly got a new BP when Roy
indicated that the man's lungs had "dried out"
from where he listened with his stethoscope.
"There it goes. It's climbing. 80/54. He's breathing.
Pulse's increasing, too. Stop CPR." and he set a 
hand on the man's carotid for several seconds. 
"Ok, I got a rate of 90. Thready and weak."

A ripple of coughs echoed through the ET
under the bag valve mask and the man's hands 
began to flutter with voluntary movements.

"Watch him.. watch him! He's snapping out
of it." Gage said. Together, the paramedics
rapidly removed the endotracheal airway
and followed up with suction as the man
began to moan more and more angrily.

"Get a grip on him. Looks like he's going to
fight." Roy said.

Several of the firemen moved in to restrain
the revived young man as full consciousness
returned.

"UugghhhhhHHHH. Get OFF me!" the man
gasped. "AhhhhHHHHH. $##* @$ !!"

Kelly had his hands full kneeling on
the drug abuser's shoulder to keep him 
from flailing the broken, splinted arm on 
the ground. He bent low over him to
get a better grip.

The man's slow testing struggles intensified
into impossibly agile ones with
a surprising pure strength seconds later.

He threw off the two firemen laying on his legs 
with a cry that didn't sound human.

"D@mn! He's in withdrawal." Gage swore.
"Hold him ! Hold him!"

"No,, I gott....a...out of ...WHy do I hURT
so bad??! $##**!"Agony from being Narcan 
yanked out of a high surged far beyond what
was normal and the man reacted violently by
knocking all of the firm hands on him away 
as if they hadn't been there at all.

He was instantly on his feet and running 
and the EKG leads ripped away from the 
connector on the monitor when it thunked
into a rock as it dragged where he ran.

Eight firemen shot to their feet after him.

"Hey!" and Gage's grab for his victim missed.
"Sh*t!"

Three other firemen's tackles missed too.

Their hideously withdrawing patient, with his 
split jeans legs fluttering in the wind, easily
outdistanced them into the thick tree stand
of the enclosure.

The paramedics heard an impact as his
arm splint disintegrated when it smacked
into a tree trunk as they chased after him.

"Over there!" Cap shouted from a rise.
"He's heading back to the exhibit's gate!"
Hank could just see him from where he
was. He got on the HT. "Engine 51 to
Truck 127. Our victim's fleeing to the north. 
Intercept him immediately. He's a blown
Narcan."

Cap winced as the man's pinwheeling broken
arm drove him into greater speed despite 
his bare feet pelting awkwardly over the 
rock strewn ground. 

The fresh pain robbed the addict of his voice
and instantly, his pursuers lost track of him
in the desperate silence that followed.

Hank saw his men follow where he indicated,
but an instinct made himself angle into a new 
direction as he ran, back towards the main 
exhibit zoo gate. ::Damn, he's got keys. He 
better not l--::

Cap arrived just ahead of his men just in time 
to see the lurching, crazed man slam the heavy
iron gate shut behind him.

All the firemen were instantly locked inside the pig
cage..... with no way out.

"No, you're not going to stop me..." he choked. Then
he whirled as if at an unseen presence on staggering
bleeding feet. "I'm-m coming! Just give me m-- more 
stuff, please!!! I can pay..." he gasped. " Slick, I can 
get you wild animals for hunting trophys.. I'm surrounded 
by them!! Just don't cut me off...Please.. I can't
take it any morRRReeeee..!" and his voice cracked 
in pain and insane giggles. 

Cap's face fell into sympathy and frustration when
the very sick man took off running, not down the asphalt trail 
winding around the cages, but into the scrubland 
bordering it. ::The responding engine crew I called 
from the parking lot will never spot him now.:: he thought.

The men of station 10 and 51 all lined up along the bars of
the peccary cage and watched the junkie disappear into 
the distance along a ridge of thick scrub that led off 
the zoo property.

Chet was puzzled by all the men's stunned, numb faces
and he said. "Hey, don't worry, guys. The cops'll get him.
They got bloodhounds that can track him.. Should be easy
with all those cuts of his bleeding out."

Gage swiped an angry hand over his dripping
face and he kicked the solid fence between him 
and his victim in defeated frustration. 

Chet somehow knew that Johnny's anger wasn't directed
at him. "Why the long face, Johnny?"

"You just don't get it, do you?" Gage snapped.

"Get what?" Kelly asked distractedly, testing the fence for
a weak spot that wasn't there.

Roy's pale face sobered all present as he answered
Chet's innocent question. "Narcan only works for
a few minutes, only long enough to restore an 
OD's ability to breathe again. The effects of heroin or 
cocaine can last for hours, Chet."

"I still don't get it.."

Johnny set his hands on his hips and studied the
ground quietly. He spoke up softly. "Our guy's gonna 
re-overdose when the Narcan wears off and he's 
gonna go right back into another catastrophic 
downer long before we can ever hope to relocate 
him. And no one's gonna be around this time to 
catch him when he stops breathing again."

Chet Kelly's face filled with an exquisite pain of
realization and he was rendered mute when
he put two and two together. The fact 
of the fleeing addict, being actually a walking 
dead man, filled his mouth with rising bile.  
Kelly threw a hand to his face in sudden reaction
and he gasped.

Roy set a comforting grip on Kelly's shoulder.
"Yeah,.. I know. A tough break. Come on. Maybe 
there's another way outta here back the way we came.
Prepare yourself. We're gonna have to go find him 
later for recovery to the coroner's office."

------------------------------------

Photo:  Johnny looking in between
           a rock and a hard place in close quarters.

Photo:  A pack of Narcan.

Photo:  Chet Kelly looking nauseated and lost.

*************************************
From : "Roxy Dee" <laterrapincabesa@hotmail.com>  
Subject :Shattered Serenity..  
Date :Wed, 07 May 2003  20:32:54 +0000  
   

Johnny Gage was eating his sandwich with
exactly zero percent concentration. Roy
only remarked about it when his partner's
teeth began devouring most of the paper
wrapping his Chicago style Italian beef
sandwich with each bite. "Hey...Johnny.." Roy
nudged with an elbow. "Pay attention.."

"What? Can't you see I'm busy here?" the younger
chipmunked cheeked paramedic mumbled loudly.
His eyes never left their particular subject matter, 
who was seated like B*ddha on Cap's usually Cap 
claimed recliner in a serene yoga stance. 
"I'm trying to figure out just what's gotten into him.." 
he said waving a few broth dripping fingers towards 
the meditating Chet he could see in plain sight.

"Yeah? Well try to focus on what's landing in
your stomach a bit there, too." DeSoto warned.
"Didn't know your ancestory included being part 
termite..." Roy quipped.

"Just what do you mean by that?" Johnny said,
his chewing halting abruptly as he looked at his
senior pal for the first time during the whole 
conversation.

Roy decided to play it out a little more, choosing 
another direction with which to break news. 
"Never mind." he said, his quiet smile growing just a little
bit bigger as a rare joking opportunity presented itself
to his exclusive territory. "Tell me something. Exactly
how much each were these sandwiches we got 
from Louis's stand after we stopped by at Rampart
to resupply?"

Gage's eyes fell into another focus and he resumed 
chewing. "I don't know. Didn't memorize it. If you need
that for the food budget I think the price tags are
still on the wrapp--" and he broke off, finally realizing 
the whole portent of what Roy was angling into. He
made a face when he realized that 3/4's of his 
consumed sandwich included 3/4's of the paper sheeting 
that had wrapped it securely inside its own juices. "Oh,,.. 
why didn't you tell me I was doing this, Roy..?" he
complained indignantly.

DeSoto's face cracked a grin. "I tried, only you were
so focused at staring holes through Kelly over
there that I guess you didn't hear me."

"That's wonderful.. Now I'm gonna get an "A" number one
gut ache on top of my willies, too."

Roy's eyebrows rose in amusement and he cupped his
mug into his hands thoughtfully. "Somehow, I doubt
that very much. My kids have eaten pounds of
newspaper, crayon wrappers, caramel apple cups 
and sausage coats, among other things, to fill a small 
wagon. They never seemed to have any problems 
with their digestion afterwards."

"Yeah? Well, I'm not a kid.." Johnny said, depositing
his oozing onion laden Italian beef sandwich onto a plate
where he gingerly began dissecting it with a forceps
from his hip holster and a fork from the broth soaked 
paper that he had been eating unknowingly. He finally
gave up when he honestly couldn't tell meat from 
wrapper. He threw his "surgical" tools down in disgust.
"I'll be right back. Thanks alot for not warning me sooner, 
partner." he said sourly, and he got up to head for the 
garage.

"Where are you going?" Roy asked.

"To the squad. I'm gonna get an oral laxative and
anti-acid before I cramp up here." he said sarcastically.

Roy just shrugged, and let him go.

Cap passed Johnny on his way out. He had to turn sideways 
to avoid a collision with Gage as he came into the room. 
"What's with him?" he asked Roy, reaching for the platter 
full of beef sandwiches, still steaming on the potholders 
in front of the hungrily eating rest of the gang.

Roy stretched in his chair and yawned.
"He thinks he's gonna die from a little ingested deli wrap.
He's gone to the drug box for a few gastronomical aids."

Hank smirked as he stripped his own sandwich free of its
covering before taking a huge bite of the delectable food.
"If I had a dime for each time one of the kids ate wood
pulp, I'd be a rich man." he said, shrugging off the incident
as trivial. "Pass me the jalapeno peppers, would ya Marco?"

Lopez neatly slid the huge jar of them from where
he sat forward with a few knuckles, without looking up from 
his sports section. "Here ya go, Cap. Bon appetite. Oh, avoid
the little orange ones or you're gonna be running out to 
the squad in fear of your life, too, like Gage is doing."

"I consider myself warned." Hank grinned, digging eagerly
into the chilled jar of peppers with a fork for a few
chartreuse ones. "Those red things are habaneroes, aren't 
they?"

"Yep." Lopez grunted, turning a page.

Cap carefully built his sandwich and then organized
the piles of onions and peppers on top of it with all
the skill of someone sculpting a banana split when he
spotted Kelly, seated like a guru in the rec room recliner.
A glance informed him that Kelly's plate was still virgin
clean. His eyebrows matched Roy's amused ones,
only his didn't yet see any humor in the situation.
"Say, Chet." he called out. "Fooood.." and he waved
the sandwich platter with a towel to waft
its aroma into the air towards him.

"Hmmmmmmm?" Kelly said dreamily from his achingly
stiff yoga stance. His palms were delicately
upturned at the wrists, both symmetrically draping 
over his carefully folded knees. He didn't open his eyes.
"What?"

"Chow's on..." Cap repeated, a little louder.

"Thanks, Cap. I can smell it. But a little meditation's on 
my menu for lunch today. I need to rebalance my karma 
before I do anything else.." and his head tipped back
into a trance pose and he began ohm'ing lowly
under his breath, until his moustache vibrated.

Henry was disturbed from his snoozing nap on the couch 
and his ears cocked forward, curiously bugged at the new 
sound. He struggled off his fat and out of the sinkhole
of cushions his weight had made to his haunches and his
usually droopy eyes widened in surprise. The rotund basset
considered his predicament for about ten seconds. Then 
he began to doggy howl in masking fashion over Chet's 
soothing "ohm's" in contrary canine agony.

The gang erupted into laughter.

Chet just cracked an eye and shot them all an irritated
look. He went back to his meditation and fell mute 
to hush them and their station mascot, up.

Cap said. "That's fine with me, Kelly. Only come dinner time,
I'm ordering you to eat twice. I'm not gonna have anyone
getting surprise hypoglycemia tonight in the middle of
a bizarre fire run later on."

"What makes you so sure we're gonna have one, Cap?"
Stoker piped up.

Hank's hands twitched as he tried to find the best
angle with which to pick up his messy sandwich. "You
mean our last run didn't clue you in? It's freaky Friday
today, or haven't you noticed..A fire call's the only thing
we haven't gone on yet."

Gage came trudging back into the kitchen. He was grimacing
and sucking down a dose or two of hospital strength pepto 
bismo straight from the bottle like a carton of milk. 

His eyes immediately refell warily on Chet as he fumbled 
back into his chair to pick once more at his dissected sandwich. 

He noticed that Roy had already separated the broth 
stained paper from the meat for him with his tools. 
"Thanks.." he said as he began to fork in lunch. All
the while, the tense edge Johnny was harboring
and the unbroken stare he was using to regard Kelly,
remained full force.

Roy's and Cap's and Henry's eyes shifted back and forth 
from the oblivious meditating Chet to the very quiet
and jumpy Gage. The three of them fell to eyeing 
them like spectators on a tennis match. 
Finally, Hank leaned over and asked Roy in a 
confidential whisper. "What's with him? Did I miss
something here?"

DeSoto shrugged, taking a bite of his neatly arranged
sandwich from its carefully folded down deli wrap.
"Your guess is as good as mine, Cap.."

Johnny's ears didn't miss a thing and he pegged Roy
and Hank with an irritated glare. "I'll tell you what's
eating me.."

Marco piped up. "No, no, no..You mean what you're
eating.." he quipped about Johnny's recent paper 
meal.

"Oh, ha ha.. Very funny." Gage shot at Lopez, shifting his
chair closer to his plate so he could pick at his sandwich
with a butter knife some more. "I'll tell you what's bugging
me.." and his eyes narrowed in fine focus. "Do any of you
know what day it is today?" he said, keeping his
voice and profile low over his plate.

Hank coughed, wiped his mouth with a napkin, and replied.
"You mean beyond the freaky runs we've been getting
all day today since midnight?"  he intoned with a straight 
face.

"Yeah, that's exactly what I mean.." Gage said,
throwing a look at Marco, when his newspaper
began to shake with his barely suppressed chortle.

"I have absolutely no idea.." Cap said calmly lacing
his fingers together thoughtfully over his plate. 

He immediately fell back to inhaling his sandwich.

Johnny cleared his throat and took another swig of
anti-acid from his bottle. Then he set it down and
leaned in confidentially to Roy and Cap. "It's our
anniversary today.." he said,  throwing a few fingers
between Chet and himself, through a cracked side
of his mouth..

"Anniversary for what?" Roy asked at a normal volume.

Johnny's fingers flew to his lips in animated quick warning
and he hissed. "Shssstt.. He'll hear you.."

Hank's eyebrows crawled into his hairline in frank
surprise at his most junior medic's off behavior. He,
chewed more slowly while he waited for Roy to 
fathom him out.

Roy promptly did so. "Oh.." Roy said, throwing down
his napkin onto his empty plate. "That anniversary.."
he said in immediate sympathy.

"Yeah.. That one.." Johnny agreed animatedly, and
he pegged alert, wary eyes right back on the B*ddha like
countenance on Chet's meditating face.

Cap chewed once more and ordered. "Enlighten me,
gentlemen, if you wouldn't mind."

Gage pantomimed an arching catapulting gesture 
from about his shoulder level down to the table top. 
He pretended that whatever had been "flung" 
landed on his own face in a disgusting liquid form, 
all without making a sound.

"Charades, huh?" Marco asked, finally peering over
his paper, just catching on to the gist of
what was going on across the table. He thoughtfully
chewed on a wonderfully orange habanero pepper.

"I get it.. I'm good at this stuff. " Stoker piped up
eagerly, before his superior could. "Cap, he must mean
it's the anniversary of their Phantom water can war."

Gage's face flew open in shock at Stoker verbalizing his
worry loud enough for Kelly to hear it and he froze in his
seat as he checked Chet out for any sign of reaction.

None was forthcoming.  

Slowly, Gage's face began to regain its color when 
Chet didn't move a millimeter where he was.

Henry didn't move either. He was still rivetted like a pointer,
standing upright on the couch, still staring at Kelly's face,
waiting for any further repeating of the funny noise from
his human companion, that had awakened him earlier.

"Oh,, so that's why you're twitchy as a venter inside
a gas leaking house." Cap grinned.

Gage sighed, and glanced at him in offended sheepishness.

Cap looked at Kelly once again where the Irishman was
sitting easily in his calming pose and said. "I still don't see
any problem here, Johnny. He doesn't seem to be doing 
anything odd, pal." he said in puzzlement.

"That's just it, Cap." Gage said, dropping his voice 
low into another secret whisper. "That's why I'm so 
nervous. And all the rest of you should get that way, too. 
Listen to this next bit closely. Just hear me out.." he 
insisted animatedly.  "Have you ever known Chet to 
act straight laced and normal longer than two hours 
before?"

"Uhh...." Cap considered.

Gage cut him off. "See? You agree with me.." he
interrupted hastily, casting watchful eyes
back onto the immobile Chet across the room.
"I know he's up to something.."

Roy got up and scooped up his plate and the one
he now knew Johnny wasn't going to eat from anymore.
"Maybe he just doesn't feel like joking around with ya
right now. I mean, finding that OD's body like we did
can throw anybody off their feed."

Johnny pegged Roy with a glower. "We see bodies
all the time, and in worse shape than that one. Bogus
point Roy. Chet's never skipped lunch because of a 
fatality retrieval, none of us have either, for that matter,
now that I think about it. He's doing it because today 
is TODAY..." he insisted meaningfully.

Roy considered for several beats before he shook his 
head in dismissal as he began to fill the kitchen sink up 
gingerly with dish water and soap. "Suit yourself if ya 
want to worry. I can't help you there."

"Yes, you can! You can watch my back, Pal." Gage fired back.

"Can't, Junior. I already do that. It's in my job description."
DeSoto replied, dead pan.

The rest of the gang chortled, all except the still
composed Chet and the intensely worried, mesmerized
Henry.

Finally, Henry had had enough and uncharacteristically,
he abandoned the couch's folds and trucked,
strangely, for the garage.

His reaction caught the whispering gang's attention and
they stopped what they were doing, to watch him in
amazement..

Roy shrugged. "Whatever's bothering you and Chet,"
he commented to Johnny, "It must be catchy.." he 
summed up.

"Very funny.." Gage mumbled as he picked up a towel
to help Roy dry the plates. "Henry's not even acting
like Henry. I tell ya, this whole day's gone completely
nuts and it's dragging us all down with it."

------------------------------------------------------

Henry was full of purpose. He panted heavily as
he slowly jogged across the quiet vehicle bay to
the far side wall where the tool locker was situated.

He spotted what he was looking for. The cord the gang
had strung down for him from the rear garage opener
switch so he'd have a means to go outside to the yard
to relieve himself whenever they weren't there to do
it for him.

His teeth yanked on the cord and he wormed his way
underneath the door as it noisily climbed up its tracks
and he paced determinedly to exactly the middle of 
the yard. He sat down on his haunches in the dust
and he pointed his nose up to the sky and began to howl.

In the kitchen, the gang noticed him immediately.
They all, minus Chet, crowded around the kitchen 
window to eye the spot mirror pointed into the back
yard to see what Henry was doing. "What the heck?"
Cap said. "Henry's acting like a wolf now, howling at 
the moon. Has the world gone mad? "

"Perhaps it's just you guys.." Chet declared in irritation
at the noise interrupting his meditation. He unfolded his
legs from the recliner's depths and clamoured to his feet
long enough to pull his lace loosened shoes back on.
"I'll be in the bunkroom, continuing where I left off.
I don't wanna hear nothing except an arriving 
tones call in there while I'm busy doing it." he said
quietly civil and he barrelled past them all on his way 
out.

Gage spun around a full ninety to avoid turning a 
vulnerable back towards Kelly as he departed. 
Only then did Johnny begin to relax.. "See what I 
mean? He's the height of oddness personified.."

No one else got the gist of what had Gage so up in
arms. They were too busy concentrating on the strange
sight of Henry caterwauling to the heavens out in the yard.

The basset hound's loud, anxiety tinged cries were 
only just heard over the sounds of the afternoon time 
rush hour traffic from the boulevard but they were loud
enough to attract a little attention from the office workers
in the building next door. Cap saw a few fingers peeking
through the blinds exactly like they were doing.

Roy had a thought that came unbidden. ::If I didn't know
any better, I'd swear Henry was sending out a message
to the neighborhood network like the sheep dog did
in One Hundred One Dalmations.::

Sure enough, an answering bark erupted from the Arco
refinery watchdog from across the street. Henry fell
into an intense listening pose in that direction. 

So did the rest of the gang.

--------------------------------------------------------------
Rampart was a mad house. 

::Nothing dire. Mind you. Just a whole slew of irritating,
putzy gomer cases littering my emergency department.::
Dixie McCall sighed in deep thought. 

Her mouth was still dry in sympathic memory of the coffee she
still couldn't track down anywhere, hospital wide.

She sighed and rubbed her forehead in fatigue until
a grip on her shoulder made her shoot to her feet
from her desk stool. 

"Ahh!" she startled.

Kel Brackett froze, his left hand still grasping the air
where her shoulder had been, his right, loaded with the 
newest non critical patient chart. "Easy, Dix... Don't hurt 
yourself. We've enough weird cases as it is today 
without handling any more from the staff."

"That's not very d*mned funny, Kel." Dix said with
some genuine heat and no trace of a smile.

Kel smiled broadly. "Caffeine withdrawal going
full swing? Sorry about not being able to procure
any coffee from dietary for you. How was I to know
that the supply truck from the city would hit the only
pothole in Los Angeles and throw an axle?"

Dixie's eyes got back into focus from her fright.
"So that's the reason why there isn't any coffee
anywhere. It's driving me crazy seeing full cups
in everyone else's hands but mine.." she said,
plunking wearily back onto her seat and taking
Kel's chart to file it away into her priority arranged
turnstyle. "How'd you learn that latest tidbit?
Can't say that news is making me feel any better."

"Sorry, Dix." Brackett grimaced. "The driver of 
the coffee truck's the man getting lip stitches in 
Treatment Three. He hit a hydrant after his axle 
cracked. 36 brought him in an hour ago and he 
told me so himself who he was."

Dixie began to groan, just thinking about it.
"I thought I smelled coffee on his clothes
taking his vital signs.. I thought I was hallucinating."

Dr. Brackett laughed before he could stop himself.

"D*mmit! This whole day is torture, Kel..." McCall 
moaned. "I honestly don't think I can take much 
more of it.."

Dr. Brackett slipped around her chair and gave Dix 
a hug, setting his chin on her head in a supportive
bearhug from behind until a cat call whistle
from a passing orderly broke them apart.

Dixie sighed at their being caught acting non 
nurse and doctor. "Thanks for the moral support, 
Kel." she said without luster. "I wish the rest of 
my staff would do more of the same for me."

"Been getting a little snarly through all this?"
he said, indicating the barely controlled chaos
of all the minor medical visitors waiting in
the waiting room before them.

Dixie's long eye lashes blinked in barely suppressed
guilt. "Just a little.."

"More like a LOT.." Carol the candy striper said
as she bustled by with fifty charts Dixie had
ordered her to take down to medical records.
She staggered by. The heavily laden girl finally
was rescued by a thoughtful Joe Early as they both
got into the elevator headed to another floor.

Dixie winced as the metal elevator doors closed. 
"I deserved that."

"Never in a million years.." Kel denied, his face kind
and warm. "Tell you what? I've got Dr. Bender
covering for me for a half hour. How about I take
a trip to Manny's down the road and order up
a take out just for you. I can get the Cappucino
Delight. Triple Order. To go."

Dixie's eyes lit up for the first time of the day.
She was rendered mute in gratitude and her eyes
misted. "ooHhhhhh.."

Kel gripped her hand and said, "Shh. No crying.
You'll ruin your makeup job. I'm on my way now." 
and he peeled his labcoat off and laid it over the 
desktop followed by his steel stethoscope. "See 
you in twenty.." he said, making sure his pager
was set to receive.

"You're an absolute saint, Kel."

"Call me that only when that hot little coffee's in your 
greedy little hand. Who knows with the luck we're having."

Dixie actually laughed. Once. Then her white uniformed
back disappeared once more into the depths of
a treatment room.



Dr. Brackett headed out into the bright daylight
outside through the main emergency doors
around the flood of bizarre minor emergency cases
coming to the department by wheelchair, on foot
or gurney. He shook his head in wonderment.
::What a crazy day.:: he thought as he fingered
his car keys he had drawn from his pocket.

He headed towards his tan Buick in its reserved spot
in the auxillary parking lot next to the helicopter
landing pad.

---------------------------------------------------------
Joe Early was remarkably unphased by the 
bustling weird day buzzing around him. He was
his usual calm quiet self as he headed up to one 
particular patient room on the fifth floor after he
helped a harried Carol to medical records with her
tottering chart stack.

He eyeballed the correct room down the hall,
grabbed the patient's chart from the nurse's desk from
its turnstyle and shouldered into the well lit room
after hearing a reply to his gentle knock on the door.

-----------------------------------------------------------

Photo:  Dix and Kel talking over lunch.

Photo:  Henry peeking over the side of the couch.

Photo:  Chet in the middle of enjoying a joke
           in action, taking notes.

Photo:  Joe Early looking calm and amused in closeup.

Photo:  Roy and Johnny peeking through the closed kitchen door.

Photo:  Aerial of Rampart in black and white.

Photo:  The gang standing outside in the side drive
           leading to the yard.

*************************************
From:   "rampartbase" <doc51@att.net> 
Date:  Thu May 8, 2003  10:02 pm
Subject:  "Slippery When Wet!"
  

There should been a sign by the nurses desk 
that said "Slippery When Wet." Kel thought as 
he slipped on a piece of ice that had 
been dropped by the nurses desk, crashing into 
it. Luckily, no bones were broken. Somehow, with 
the nutty day that they'd been having, it had 
gone unseen.

They had a number of strange and unusual 
cases. They had people come in because they 
thought they were about to get sick, then did. 
There was a man who broke his toe after kicking 
a car tire at a car dealer. It was just a generally 
weird day all around. 

-------------------------------------

Photo: None.

**************************
From :"Cassidy Meyers" <killashandrarey@hotmail.com>  
Subject : The Overhaul Incident..  
Date :Mon, 12 May 2003 03:35:45 +0400  
 
  
"Come in..." came a New York accent through the door.

Dr. Early went into the room with the chart at his side.
"Hello there. I'm Dr. Early. Dr. Brackett asked me to
stop on by to review your post angioplasty film that
you had done this morning."

The dark haired man of sixty sat up a little higher
in the bed with an air of making himself presentable.

"No, don't sit up. You still have a fresh puncture site
to worry about."

"Oh, yeah. Right , doc." said the man.

Joe extended a hand out to the patient he was sent
to consult with in a gesture of welcome.

"Glad to make your acquaintance. I'm Charlie. How ya doin?"

"Fine. Fine. Downstairs is a little like a madhouse
but nothing out of the ordinary." Joe thought a bit
about that remark and amended. "No, that's not quite
right. Everything today is out of the ordinary but who's
complaining?" chuckled Dr. Early.

"Not me, doc." said the man. "They've been treatin
me real fine. I was nervous there for a while when
they told me I wasn't gonna be asleep for that
angio...angio picture thing with that balloon 
thingy in my chest. But it's over. Heh. And I'm 
feeling real good now. I lived through it."

"That was the intent." laughed Joe.

"Don't I know it?" said Charlie.

Charlie let Joe check over the area where
he had had the angio catheter inserted and
let the doctor lift up the gauze dressing
taped there to check for signs of
seepage.

Joe's face fell a little bit and he opened
the chart one more time to look at the diagnosis
that both he and Kel Brackett had agreed was
the inevitable one.

Charlie's rugged stubbled face took on a
hint of dread as he realized that his news may
not be the happy ones that he had anticipated.
"Say, doc? Uh,.. what's da matter? If ya
have ta give it to me straight, I can take it.
I haven't been a fire department mechanic 
working in the busiest district in the state
for nothin, you know.. Don't sugar coat it.
Just tell me whatever it is."


"Charlie. Your initial prognosis is excellent.
The two coronary arteries we found that were
narrowed have successfully been cleared
with the angioplastic procedure. You'll have
no more trouble with that angina and we
can discontinue your regular course of nitro
glycerin. You won't be needing it anymore
from this point forward. "

"That doesn't sound too scary, doc. So, uh,
why the long face here?" Charlie frowned.

"Well, your heart's now fixed with those two
partially blocked off arteries being fully repaired, 
but we found that your arteriosclerosis is fairly well 
advanced in other areas of your body. Your shortness 
of breath you get while exerting yourself at work is 
due to narrowing of other arteries in your lungs. That, 
we can't fix. The underlying structures there don't favor 
the usual angioplastic routes."

A sick dread began to grip Charlie and his post
surgical EKG sped up a bit as he fretted. "What?"
he joked. "Does that mean I'm gonna die tomorrow?"

Joe tried to chuckle lightly with a smile to reassure
his worried patient. "No, you can look forward to
decades more of good cardiovascular functioning.
But I'm afraid you're going to have to come up
with a means to reduce your stress levels. Immediately.
We barely have your hypertension under control with
your usual medications and already they are at
the top end of what's safe to utilize."

Charlie knew right away what the doctor was
angling at. He had figured it out in one mind 
numbing realization. "Doc.. are you saying that I'm
gonna haveta give up the one thing that makes 
my world complete? That uh, I have to ... retire
from the workplace?"

Joe looked down and rubbed the rings on
his hands thoughtfully in regret and he
sighed while he put together the right words
to say. "I'm afraid so, Charlie. There isn't a miracle
cure for your stage of hypertension. In fact, it
may not take much in your future to really raise
your chances of having a cerebral vascular accident."

"A what?" Charlie asked, rubbing his dry lips.
Then he reached over to his cup of ice cubes
and took some in to wet his mouth to moisten
it.

"A CVA. In layman's terms, a stroke."

Charlie laughed nervously and loud and he
readjusted the blanket back over himself following
Joe's cursory exam of his catheter puncture site.
"You've got to be kidding. I thought that those
blood thinners and that aspirin a day my regular
doctor prescribed, solved all that."

"They helped. But that course of treatment unfortunately
doesn't cure the underlying cause. You're getting older
now. And your particular case will only advance.
Even though it's very slowly. It's time to start kicking 
down into lower gear as you mechanics like to say."

Charlie sobered and fell still, struggling to fight 
his emotions over finding out that his life
long career was now suddenly, quietly, over.
Then he looked up with a vulnerable smile.
"What uh, just what can I tell the wife, doc?
She's gonna flip over this. It's not like we need
the income. It's just that I won't know.. what
to do with myself, ya know?"

Joe nipped that line of thinking in the bud.
"It's not the end of the world. There are a lot
of people who've been in your shoes. And I'm
not afraid to tell you that I'm one of them."

"Really, doc? Not you.. heh. You look as healthy
as an ox and you're still workin.." he exclaimed.

"Yes, I'm working but my occupation is not
the kind of job that exacerbates my history
with arteriosclerosis. I can still work. But only
in moderation. I gave up my position as
head ER doc a few years ago. Kel Brackett took
over for me while I was recovering and he's
still serving in that position. Your life isn't over,
Charlie. Not by a long shot. You're just going to
have to make a few adjustments, that all, that will
take some getting used to. But you'll work it
all out before you know it." Joe encouraged.

"Yeah, doc.. But retirin? Sheesh." Charlie
scoffed. "That's for old folks. Or really sick
ones." he said in a soft sigh.

"Charlie, think about it. Your overall condition,
if anything, has improved. Greatly. That angioplasty
you underwent this morning was a complete
success. You have gone a step forward, not 
backwards." Joe said with a gentle smile. "You should
know. Life always changes. And that can be a
blessing in disguise sometimes even if we
don't realize it right away. And your whole
changing situation here is no exception. Your time 
as an active on duty mechanic may be over, but that 
doesn't mean that you have to stop hanging around 
your old haunts like you usually do."

"Say, doc.. That's a lightbulb of an idea. I really like 
that. A lot. You're giving me some dandies already.."
Charlie chuckled. "I'm gonna go see EVERYone,
first thing, when I get released in an hour. That's
ah, only if you allow it with this groin stick and
all." Charlie fussed, gesturing to his waist
level.

"It's ok.." Joe laughed. "You'll be fully recovered
from lunch by then. Sorry for that casserole. It usually
has some coffee with it that makes it palatable,
but we're currently fresh out. Your catheter 
puncture will be fully clotted in about half an hour."

"Good. Cause Charlie the mechanic's got people
to see. Places to go. Know what I mean?"

"Yeah.. I know what you mean.." Joe said.

----------------------------------------------------------

Dr. Brackett had long abandoned his grid locked
car along the margin of the freeway for a phone.

"Dix? Yeah, it's Kel." he held the receiver away
from his ear when he heard his head nurse start
to moan about her coffeeless state and question
about his now long overdue ETA. "Sorry, Dix.
Traffic jam. Probably another fog pile up by
Long Beach. You know how are these traffic snarls
can back up around here. I'm gonna haveta take
the rest of the night off. Would you inform Doctor
Bender that I won't be coming in?" he asked.
"Thanks. You're a doll. I promise I'll get some coffee
to ya sooner rather than later. Tonight."

Kel hung up the payphone at the Shell station
and wandered back to his car for the long wait
for the jam to clear out.

--------------------------------------------------------

Charlie the mechanic knew the best ways to sneak
up on firehouses when firemen least expected it.
It was a habit he had developed so he could
really see the wear and tear the guys inflicted
on his beloved vehicles.  

He let himself in with his master key through
the rear door and he stealthily saundered
across the garage.

First thing, his eye fell on Squad 51's tires, 
checking for curb scuffs from all the sudden stops 
she had to make during each run. "There, you go, 
sweetie." he said, patting Squad 51's hood while 
another finger swept over her front grill chrome 
looking for grime.

"Looks like my tyrannical temper tantrums are finely
having an effect, aren't they? Your wheels are perfect
darlin !  Your chrome, too. But there's no way in Hades 
that I'm ever gonna stop blowing off steam on your 
behalf at those crazy firemen. You deserve the best and
don't you ever forget it. I'll make sure the new guy
learns that lesson quick." Charlie said.

A voice from the far side of the bay echoed through
the high rafters overhead. "Charlie? Is that you?
I thought I heard your voice.."  said Captain Stanley
as he exited his office door. He immediately noticed
Charlie, not wearing his department uniform.
"It's your day off? I thought you had a double inspection
load on Wednesdays." Cap frowned.

"Yeah, well. I've got some news there." Charlie said
circumspect and suddenly serious. "Looks like I'll
have a whole lotta days off from now on.."

Cap wasn't surprised, for he had been on the rescue
call that went out for Charlie a week ago for
heightened chest pain. "So, it's come to that, eh?
Your ticker ok?" he said casually inquiring.

"Oh, yeah. The docs at Rampart fixed the plumbin
real fine. I'm good to go. But I gotta get out of 
the fast lane they've been telling me."

"Retirement?" Cap asked.

"Yeah.. Hate that word. Makes me sound like I'm
being put out ta pasture.." Charlie said, reaching
for a back pocket that no longer held an oily rag.
He stopped himself before he was too obvious
in his reaction about being out of uniform. "So, I
uh, hope ya don't mind me comin over to say goodbye
ta the guys like this. Heh. Seeing my beauties I'd
done anyway." he said throwing a careless hand
at the Ward and Squad behind them. "Had to check
up one more time on my babies. I had ta come
back.. Know what I mean?"

"Yeah, I know what you what mean.." Cap grinned.
"How about coming in for a cup of coffee? Stoker
brews a mean pot."

"Nope. No more coffee. Doc's orders. 
But I could sure use some of that clam 
chowder I smell on the stove. Must be yours 
cause the cream's not overpowering the clams 
there."

Cap ducked his head at the compliment. 
"Glad someone appreciates my chowder.
I thought that Joe Early was my only 
chowder fan."

"Yeah? Well add one more. Me.." Charlie
said jerking a thumb at his chest.
"Take me to your chowder." he joked.

"You know the way.." Hank beamed.

------------------------------------------------------
Men from three firehouses turned up for Charlie's
retirement party that his bosses threw
at his old workplace only five hours
after Charlie was discharged from Rampart.

Only Cap, Johnny and Roy and Chet 
could find replacements for themselves to be able 
to attend, but Cap felt that his three from Station 51 
was a good showing considering the high density 
of runs that usually came during that part of summer. 
As for himself, he wouldn't have missed Charlie's final 
send off for the world. He still remembered the days
when HE was cringing during one of Charlie's tune
up inspections as a regular fireman. He knew he
was going to miss Charlie more than he realized.

"And this, is the main repair bay. Where we fix
all the damage you boys do to the engines.." Charlie
said, his voice rising higher and higher in a familar
tirade. He stopped himself before his blood pressure
shot too high. "Oops.. gotta watch myself. Well, you
know the speech. Ain't gonna preach to the choir
here. I'm a free man!"

Cheers erupted from the three groups of station
firefighters mingling in with station 51's four.

Charlie shot them all a suspicious look when he 
couldn't tell whether the guys were cheering for his 
newly liberated state, or the fact that they wouldn't 
be cringing over any of his hundred proof lectures 
anymore.  "Hey! Pipe it down.. There are working
joes over there. They can't hear themselves think
over that kind of racket."

The firefighters quieted down and continued
eating their cake and vanilla ice cream.

Chet's mouth was still hanging open. His eyes
were still bugging out at the long row of cracked
open fire engine chassis that were angled up
on hoists away from their motor assemblies from
the rigs lined up next to them, in the huge
space surrounding the party tables.

Charlie noticed.  "What? Did you think I worked
in a three pump mom and pop gas station on
the corner? This joint's the size of a small airport!"
Charlie said proudly. 

He proceeded to lecture to his hungrily eating
captive audience on how, his long and
varied career as an FD mechanic, began. 

He finished with an historic account of how
his plans had been turned into blueprints and 
then later eventuality with the construction 
of the half mile long pit stop facility that Los 
Angeles County now used for all of its 
vehicle maintenance.

Johnny Gage swiped some cake crumbs off of
his dress uniform tie and mumbled from the corner
of his mouth to Cap. "Say, does this mean we can
slack off a little on vehicle detail? "

Cap grimaced. "Eeooww. This is awful.." looking
down at his paper cup and then just as quick
at something over the heads of all the retirement
party guests.

"The coffee?" Johnny asked.

"No, you twit, the squad! I can see the soot
on her windshield from here.." Cap said.

Roy and Johnny then realized that maybe they
wouldn't be getting off scot free so easily with
Charlie's departure from active duty.

Roy leaned over and said. "Wanna bet Cap'll
have us polishing by sundown after we get
back to the station?"

"No bet.." Johnny sighed.

------------------------------------------------------

Dr. Brackett was just turning onto Curson Avenue
near sundown, when his emergency services CB 
radio, went off.

##Eeeee  OOooo EEeeeeeee.. Station 51. 
Unknown type rescue. 5801 Wilshire Blvd. Cross
street Curson. 5801 Wilshire Blvd. Cross street
Curson. Time out, 18: 12.##

::That's only a block from here.:: Kel thought.

He turned his wheel towards a new construction
site he could see to his left. 

::Maybe I can help out some..::

--------------------------------------------------------

Photo :  Charlie the mechanic and Johnny out
            in the yard.

Photo : A row of crack hooded Crowns at LACoFD
           repair facility.

Photo : Outside the maintenance bays by gas pumps.

Photo: Johnny and Roy table sitting.

***************************************
From : "patti keiper" <pattik1@hotmail.com>  
Subject : [EmergencyTheaterLive] Samaritan Snare..  
Date : Tue, 13 May 2003 13:39:17 +0000  
 
Acknowledgements to

Lt. Stuart C. Burrows
Hazardous Materials Team Coordinator
Paramus Fire Dept., NJ  for the information
about natural kerosene risks.. 

--------------------------------------
 
Dr. Brackett made good time down the weaving
road. He saw a man, full of black ooze leaning
heavily against a parking lot post. He was obviously
the one sent out to intercept the responding fire
unit to show them where the emergency was.

Kel made sure his car was out of the way of
any hydrants, against a fence line off the road
and he leaped out of his car, rolling up his
sleeves. He grabbed a folded blanket he
had in the back seat from a basket of clean laundry
he had there. "I'm Dr. Brackett. I heard there was 
trouble out here needing the fire department. Are
you hurt?"

The gasping, soaked man coughed. "No.. I'm fine."
he said, as Kel grasped him around the shoulders.

"Sit down here. I'll watch for them." Dr. Brackett
said. "Here. This will help warm you up." he said,
wrapping his blue blanket around the man. "What 
happened?" he said trying to find where the trouble
was near them by turning in a circle and looking.

"It's the pit. Pit number 91. I'm on an excavation
crew. *cough* I don't understand it. The construction
team told us the supports were strong enough. E..I-I..
the whole wall caved in on Aragorn, the lead archaeologist.
She was working on an incredible Bicus Gravus.."

"A what?" Dr. Brackett said, watching the exhausted
man gather his strength back. He tried not to think
what was covering the man. Already, his own clothes
were black and sticky. "Just take it easy. Help's on the
way. Who's with Aragorn right now? Anyone else involved?"

"No.. I.. Half of us left because of the danger but
half stayed with her. I don't know for sure.."

Dr. Brackett was ready when the man suddenly blacked
out. He caught him and carefully lowered his head
to the grass. He set his hand on the man's shivering
stomach to monitor his ragged breathing.

In the distance he could hear the sound of approaching
sirens and it wasn't long before Station 51 screeched up
to the curb by his side.

Chet Kelly bailed out of his seat, opening the side door
of the Ward and into a miasma of stench. "What is
that smell?!" he said, covering his nose.

Marco was equally effected and both Kelly and Lopez's
eyes located what appeared to be a small lake at
the foot of a white high rise bank on the other side
of the partially constructed parking lot. They could
just see rising steam coming from it and could hear
a loud copious mass bubbling.

Before they could wonder further, they spotted their
first concern. Two people smeared in black gel like
stuff a short distance away.

Stoker commented. "Smells like asphalt." Mike 
theorized, not even slowing down as he 
hit the anchor feet switches on the engine to ready 
her for hose work. He kicked a board under each 
piston as it lowered to the concrete.

Captain Stanley shot out of the cab after announcing his
company's arrival to the scene to L.A. "Good call Stoker.
This might be a chemical spill. String some hose, long
enough to reach that partially built building over there. But
don't prime it yet. Not until we know exactly what we're
dealing with here." He took an experimental
sniff, relying on instinct to make a judgement call. "Skip
the SCBA for now. This stuff doesn't seem caustic."
Then he paused in his tracks. "Dr. Brackett?" he
exclaimed when he realized just who was with the only
victim in eyeshot. He tersely waved Marco to go get the
spare O2 apparatus from the engine's side compartment.
"Whatcha got, doc? Johnny! Roy! Man down. Over here.
Skip the resuscitator. I had Lopez grab ours."

He watched his two paramedics nod and scramble to get 
their equipment. He noticed them making faces at
the stench in the air but they remained all business.

The Rampart physician looked up from his unconscious
patient and he rubbed his nose with his forearm to avoid
getting some dark gunk that was covering his hands, 
onto his face. "He's fine. Just fainted. His pulse's
strong and regular. He said there was a cave-in 
somewhere nearby.." Kel said. "In a location called Pit 91.
Sounded like it was an archaeological dig or something."

"Need anything more than this?" Hank asked as Marco plunked
down the O2 cylinder and rack and got out a clear flowing
O2 mask for the limp man.

"Nah.." Kel said, seeing Roy and Johnny rushing over
from the squad, heavily laden. "Johnny and Roy have
everything I'm gonna need."

"Ok." Cap sighed in relief. He cast his head about, 
looking for a likely spot for a cave in. He then 
noticed a sign saying,'Page Museum, opening June, 
1977. Come see a Woolly Mammoth.'

A vague memory tickled the back of his mind and a word
came up into recall, unbidden. "La Brea.." he mumbled.

"What?" Dr. Brackett said, making sure the O2 was 
securely over the man's nose and mouth. He gave a 
few orders for Roy and Johnny to get primary info and to look
for some ID for any possible medical history clues.
He nodded when Johnny and Roy verbalized the man's
vitals to him.

Hank swiped off some of the dark smears on Kel's sleeves
and lifted it to his nose.. "Tar Pits..." he added to
his earlier comment. "Doc, I think I know what the trouble
is now. It's all falling into place.."  Cap got on his HT, and
thumbed it so all his men could hear him. "Just identified the
chemical smell, all. It's methane, and kerosene on top
of asphalt. This place must be a newly rising museum over the site 
called the La Brea Tar Pits. Heard about it last year. Under no 
circumstances are you to run any water on any open flames 
burning on the stuff. It'll be useless since kerosene floats. 
When we find the scene, go in dry. But watch for any signs 
of fire. That lake can burn regardless." 
 
##10-4. ## Cap heard from Marco and Chet and Johnny
as they scrambled to get the work done.

Cap noticed Dr. Brackett just itching to do more from
where he was crouched over the fainted man. "I can
watch him, doc, until the ambulance arrives. Go with
Johnny and Roy and my other men to see what's up if
you'd like. They'll watch your back."

"Think I'll do that. He should be waking up any time."
the doctor said to Cap as they exchanged places crouching
by the man's head."He's starting to move a little." 

Johnny and Roy took Cap's cue to move on with the main
rescue scene assessment as he threw a hand towards the
quiet, scaffoulding covered building next to the bubbling
lake of tar. 

Chet was still gagging on the oily stench filling the air.
He mumbled under his breath. "Sure you don't want us 
to have masks on, Cap?"

Hank jerked a thumb over his shoulder. "Just go.."
with a half annoyed, half amused smile.

Kelly went."I'm gone.."

He was only two steps behind Johnny, Roy and Kel
as they hastened with belts and ropes towards the
building Cap had indicated. They  were running across
a sidewalk over looking the tar pit "lake" when they
heard a shout. 

"Down here! Please! Hurry.."

Gage said, "Hold it. Hold it.." when he heard the cry.

They all leaned over the concrete railing of the bridge
above the writhing moat and peered over the edge.

Kel Brackett coughed as a wind gust drove more stench into
his lungs. "There!" he shouted pointing downwards.

They could just see another oil slicked scientist type
on the lower level of the museum, through the windows
gesturing wildly for their attention. 

Roy shouted. "All right! We see ya. Just hang on..
We're coming down!" he shouted to the man 
urgently pounding on the glass to get their
attention.

The oily figure disappeared back the way he
had come into the dark interior of the museum's
lower level.

Gage looked about for any sign of stairs. There
were none. Just a steeply dropping off shoreline at
the edges of the tar pit. "We don't have time to look
for stairs. Roy, why don't we try rappelling down to
the windows and breaking through.."

"Sounds like a good plan to me.." Roy said, belting
up. He lifted his hand held radio. "HT 51 to Engine 51."

##Go ahead, Ht 51.##

"There's someone flagging us down on the lower level
of the museum, right next to the tar lake. We need
the squad to anchor rappelling gear from a concrete
bridge."

##10-4, 51. Lopez is on his way with it. I'm sending
Stoker with him.##

Dr. Brackett fidgetted as he paced back and forth.
"Not much I can do from here."

"Oh, yes you can.." Johnny said. "You can help Marco
keep the lines from fraying on the concrete here once
Roy and I go over.." he said slapping the concrete
railing.  He peeled off his coat. "Here, doc. Use my coat
for that."

"Right.." Kel said, understanding the plan immediately.

Gage kept talking. "Chet, rig a line for yourself. 
You're coming along.. It's gonna take three of us to get
anyone who's stuck in this goop out of that cave in."

Kelly's face widened in surprise when he realized that
he would be dangling over the surface of the methane
boiling tar pit. "Sounds like fun." he said unenthusiastically.

Lopez arrived with the squad, backing her up until her
rear bumper was next to the turnout coat draped 
railing. He quickly helped Johnny, Roy and Chet secure
their lifelines to it with pulleys and figure eight knots.

"Need the stokes?" Marco asked Roy.

"Yeah, and send down just the O2 for now. We still
haven't seen where to go yet.." DeSoto replied.

"I'll get it set.." 


Johnny was the first over the edge of the concrete bridge.
"Gimme some more slack!" he shouted up as the firemen
and Kel on the bridge slowly hand over handed him down
over the lake. Gage twisted around until he was able
to kick off a bridge piling far enough to grab an exposed 
plastic pipe over the "beach". He untied his line, hurrying
to the window.

Roy quickly followed, doing the same thing. And then it
was Chet's turn. Kelly wasn't so agile with his rappelling
and his gloves slipped on the way down.

"Chet! Look out!" Gage shouted in warning.

Kelly landed with a splash into the tar pit up to his
chest. "Aghhh!! Get me out of here before I sink!" 
Chet flailed. He rapidly began to sink under the lake's
surface, to his chin, to his flaring nostrils.

Roy yelled. "Marco. Toss me down his belt line!"

Lopez hastily flung the second rope to Johnny
and Roy so they could pull Chet out. 

Gage shouted. "Chet, quit moving or you'll go under.."

Chet choked on fumes and ignored him.

His curly helmeted head disappeared under 
the surface.

"Chet!" Kel Brackett shouted from above.

Marco got on his HT. "Cap! Kelly fell in. He's
in trouble!"

## I'll be right there! Calling in another station!##

Johnny and Roy gasped as they struggled heavily
to pull on the rope to drag Chet to shore.

They got a hand on his belt and hauled him up
onto the black edged loam and firm ground and
log rolled him over.

Chet coughed and sputtered. "Gah!! *cough*"

Roy and Johnny both ran hasty fingers over
Chet's nose and mouth to clear away the
thick tar covering his face until he could breathe
again.

Gage grabbed his head, lifting his upper body 
up to help him. "Can you breathe ok now?" he
said, pulling off Chet's dripping helmet.

Chet didn't say anything as he gagged over
and over again. Then he sucked in a huge
lungful of air and nodded.

Roy and Johnny helped him to his feet.
"Ok, let's figure out how to best crack
this window pane to get inside."

The best method turned out to be crude but
very effective. Kelly flung a fossil filled shore rock
at the twenty foot by fifty foot museum window.

A loud musical explosion of glass flooded
their sandy beach as the window came
apart. 

Roy, Chet and John wasted no time getting
inside. They untied their lifelines and
accepted new coiled ones ringed tossed
down to them by Marco and they rushed
inside the lower level after knocking away
any more lingering shards with their helmets.

The rope lowered O2 and stokes, quickly 
followed.

They immediately found Pit 91. It was
surrounded by orange helmeted scientists
fretting over another unconscious
woman who was buried neck deep in newly 
oozing tar. Gage shouted. "How deep is it?"

Another gasping exhausted archeologist
understood immediately when his
other co workers didn't reply right away.
"The lowest digging section drops only three 
feet."

Johnny jumped in and helped the panicking 
scientists encircling her to hold her face 
out of the ooze. It was slimy, hard work and
it took all of them. "Hand me the O2, guys. 
All this stuff's pressing in on her chest. 
She's suffocating."

Chet Kelly handed down the positive pressure
mask and an oral airway pack.

Gage immediately began using them while Marco
and Roy rigged another rope set up and belt
for the woman to a concrete pillar near them
for an anchor point.  

Johnny gasped. "The rest of you get out of here.
It's too dangerous for you to stay. That wall
may give in more and you're not tied onto a
rope." he ordered. "She's gonna be ok. I got her."

The tar covered archeologists accepted Chet
and Roy's hands to climb out of the fossil
excavation pit.

Kel Brackett and Cap made a sudden appearance.
"Kelly, you ok?" Hank asked when he finally
decided who was the right slimy body to ask.

"Yeah, Cap. I'm fine. But the woman's not. She's
getting crushed by all that tar pouring in. She's
gotta be dragged out. Now. Johnny down there
can hardly ventilate her." Chet replied. He looked 
almost comical, being all shiny black except for 
his eyes and teeth.

Bracket had planned ahead. He had helped lug
all the medical gear down the front ramp they
had found with the guidance of an archeologist
witness and he already had laid out advanced 
suctioning equipment. "Johnny, how's she doing?"

Gage spat as a splash of tar hit him in the
face. He angled his helmet to deflect the 
new stream away from himself and the woman.
"She's still got a carotid. Although it's stressed.
I'm getting air in but I can't tell if it's doing any
good. Her color's hidden."

"Trust what you feel. I got suction set.
We'll do an airway sweep once she's up here.
Any C spine injuries?"

All nine tarry hard hatted archeologists milling 
about the rescue team shook their heads.

"She didn't fall." one of them said. "That glop
only gushed in and pinned her.."

"Ok.." Cap said. "Get that belt on, ASAP. We'll
haul her out the fastest way possible." he said, 
leaning over the edge of the excavation site. 
He blinked when he realized his coat arm was 
leaning on a sabre tooth tiger skull. He startled 
and took it off immediately. He tried not to look 
at what fossilized bones his shoes were standing 
on.

It took ten of them to break the suction of the tar
holding the unconscious scientist's legs pinned.

She finally pulled free with a hollow slurp and
her limp body was carefully guided up the wall,
with many hands supporting her O2, head and
airway.

Kel immediately got out a laryngoscope for a
peek after he jerked her oral airway free. 
Roy helped hold her into the right position 
for the exam with one hand while the other 
stayed on her neck to monitor her carotid.
It was difficult work, the tile museum floor
made the surface under them slippery and
they were all forced to stay on their splayed
knees for balance.

Dr. Brackett said, "She's got some tar in
her right bronchial tree. But she's not
obstructed that badly." He quickly suctioned
out what he could and withdrew the
scope. "Roy.." he said unnecessarily as
the blond headed paramedic began to ventilate
her once again on the O2 to compensate
for the lost time they weren't breathing for her.

Brackett began snapping out orders for a more
secure type of airway and a precautionary IV.
"She's gonna need a pulmonary flushing when
we get into Rampart."

"Is Maureen going to make it?" one concerned 
tar blackened archeologist asked.

Kel's mouthed twitched into a smile.
"Yeah, I think so. The only hurdle will be
that secondary pneumonia. Doesn't look like
she was poisoned too much from any methane.
I didn't see any tracheal burns."
Then he noticed another skull firmly gripped
in the scientist's grasp. "You can relax now, sir.
Maureen's perfectly safe."

The shell shocked archeologist suddenly blinked
and realized what the doctor was looking
at. "Oh.. uh, this is a closed mouthed sabre 
tooth head. Very rare. It was what Maureen was 
tugging at when the wall gave way. She'll
kill me if she wakes up and I don't have it." 
he remarked.

"Let's get her bundled up and out of here."
Cap grinned.

Soon, it was done.

-------------------------------------------------------
Dixie McCall's eyes bugged out in sheer horror
when she saw three tar black figures arrive onto
her newly waxed ER department floor. "Oh, no..
she sighed. "Treatment Q.." she amended, 
thinking fast. That was the nearest room
to the entryway portal. ::It's also a quarantine
room. No doubt we're gonna need that negative
air pressure in there to control the stench. Yuck!::
she thought, holding one hand over her nose.
"Nice choice of cologne.." she teased Kel out loud
as he helped Roy push the gurney inside as Gage
bag valved breathed for the woman. She literally
jumped when she spotted a slimy skull on the 
woman's stomach when she attempted to lay 
eyes on the area to get a respirations
count for Kel while they moved her.
"Ahhh!" McCall screeched. She rocked back 
on her heels, controlling her reactions.

Kel grinned toothily through his stinky slime.
"It's a souvenir, Dix.. Don't you like it?"
and he picked up the long fanged skull
and clapped its gaping jaws open and 
shut in her face once or twice.

She glared at him. "I'd rather it have been
a can of fresh Columbian coffee grounds." she
said icily. 

Then she held an admonishing finger up to
the two medics getting a set of vitals
using equipment she couldn't distinguish
from them because of all the tar. "You boys'd
better plan on abandoning all that stuff.
Including your clothes. Environmental will flay
me alive if I allowed you to carry that ...that 
that...."

"Million year old fossilized tar?" Kel offered helpfully.

"Thank you.." Dix sputtered. "..that tar any further
into the hospital. I'll requisition a complete new
vitals kit for the squad and scrubs for you all 
right now." She gingerly moved around a puddle 
of ooze so she wouldn't get any onto her polished 
white nurse shoes as she took a step towards the 
ER phone.

Right then, Kel's nose finally had had enough of
all the fumes and he sneezed powerfully, raining 
a mist of fine tarry black all across Dixie's back.

His face fell open in instant mortification 
when she hunched up her shoulders and froze
the second she realized the stench in the room was
somehow, now attached......to her.

----------------------------------------------------------

It was an hour later, a shower reddened doubled 
scrubbed set of paramedics met Dixie at her desk 
in the ER each carrying a small bundle wrapped in 
abdominal dressings. They paused as they all considered
the reason why all three were wearing surgical garb.
Then Dixie said, "What are those? "she asked cautiously.
"If they're fossilized skulls. I don't wanna see them."

Gage laughed. "These are just our badges and name
tags, Dix. It's gonna take a whole lotta turpentine
to clean these up. Cap's stood the whole station down
for the rest of the afternoon, while we...detar ourselves
and the vehicles."

Roy sighed. "Well, there's a bit of a miracle working here.
Charlie's not gonna see the mess we made of them."

Johnny rolled his eyes in dread. "Oh, but you better believe
he'll eventually find out about it through the department
grapevine. Then there will be h*ll to pay for sure.."

Dixie smiled craftily from her paperwork she was filling out
to add a new set of stethoscopes, BP cuffs and laryngoscopes
for the squad's vitals kit to go along with the airways
and IV's they had used. "Sort of like the h*ll I have to
pay for trashing the quarantine treatment room on a
hospital inspection day?"

Johnny's face fell in instant sympathy. "Oh, tell me
that wasn't today.."

"It was today.." Dixie parroted in weariness as
she massaged her forehead.

"Ooo," Johnny sucked through his teeth. "Well,
next time the bunch of us falls into the LaBrea
Tar Pits, I'll be sure to ask Brackett to reroute
us to Mercy General instead of Rampart."

"You're all heart.." Dixie said, without looking
up. She made a face of disgust when she found
tar, under one of her fingernails. "I hate to think
what's rotted in this stuff." she said, hastily wiping
the ooze away from her nail, not caring if her finger
nail polish came away with it.

Roy answered. "I think there was a museum display
in there above us that said the pits contained
millions of animals.. all from the Ice Age.."

"Terrific.. and all I want is a can of java 
from the Modern one.." she grumbled.

Johnny and Roy began to smile when they saw
Vince, come to watch the very valuable sabre
tooth's skull, arrive from down the hall with 
a laden brown paper bag in one arm. They
glanced at each other in satisfaction and didn't
say anything as the husky dark skinned officer
harrumphed in his throat to get Dixie's attention
from her paperwork.

When she looked up, she noticed the bag in
front of her. "What's this?"

"Kelly Brackett asked me to pick this up for
the main ER desk. Said something about needing
it to control a possible caffeine withdrawal outbreak
among the hospital staffers here.." he said straight
faced.

Dixie's hands shot out and she ripped away the
paper.. "Coffee?!! Ohmyg*d.. I'll be right back.."
and Dixie danced away from the desk, eagerly
heading for the coffee lounge. "I--I.. thank you..
uh, thank Kel.. Uh.. oh,  Vince? Don't go..Stay right
there and I'll come back with mugs enough
for all of you..!"

McCall almost shouldered another staffer onto
his butt when he kiddingly tried to take the 
rare covetted can from her grasp as he walked
by.

-------------------------------------------------------

Roy and Johnny walked into the station washroom
where Chet was picking his wet curly hair carefully
into shape while looking in the big mirror.

Gage made a show of walking up to him and sniffing.
"Hmm. Hey Chet, is that Ode de Swamp I'm smelling?
It's very becoming.. "

"Very funny, Gage.. Can't say that you and your
smirking partner here smell any better..We had to
scrub out the engine cab almost as much as
you guys did the squad's. Cap's already tee'd
that it's gonna take two hours for the three of
us to get new turnout gear and helmets sent
to us from headquarters." he broke off when Johnny
pulled out a small slate colored object from his
uniform pocket. "What's that?"

"A fossilized Dire Wolf tooth. The museum project
head coordinator was so grateful we rescued his
best scientist from Pit 91, that he sent a box
of fossils to the station just now for us to divide
amongst ourselves."

"Oh, then you won't mind sharing.." and Kelly
snatched for the fang. 

Gage whipped it away before Chet's grab got
there. "Ah, ah ah.. Go get your own.. This is
for my tribal prayer sack. My aunt always used
to say a token earned doing a heroic deed is
very powerful medicine...." then he blinked.
"Better hurry.. Marco was shovelling up the rest
of the wolf teeth when I left the kitchen."

"What?! Why didn't ya tell me sooner, pal?
Thanks a lot.." and Chet Kelly ran out of the 
room.

Roy chuckled and leaned over to shut off the
water Chet had left running in the sink. 
"You're cruel, you know that Johnny." he
grinned. "You could have told him that ALL
the fossils were the more common Dire Wolf 
parts."

"Yeah, but where's the fun for us in that?
This way we got to watch him rabbit outta here."
he said with a sideways grin. "It'll dry his hair
a little faster."

Roy rolled his eyes. "Come on, Junior. You can 
point out the skulls and parts you think my kids
will like the best."

"All right, Pally. I know good totems when I
see them. Maybe now, our luck with the crazy
day we've been suffering will change for the better."

-------------------------------------------------------------
    
Photo :  Engine 51 and squad 51 on a run.

Photo : A tar covered victim.

Photo :  Lake of tar by a white high rise bank.

Photo :  Tar pit by a concrete pathway bridge.

Photo : The inside of an under construction museum.

Photo : Chet Kelly in his jacket.

Photo : A close up of the slime in the LaBrea Tar Pits.

Photo :  Pit 91 Excavation and hard hatted diggers.

Photo :  Firemen struggling to pull a victim out of slime.

Photo : Dixie making an embarrassed face.

Photo : Two cans of Folgers coffee.
 

***************************************
From: "Fran" TaleaOne@yahoo.com and a little bird.
Subject : Three Dogs and a Cat..
Date :  May 16th, 2003 20:29:07 CST


Cap had picked up three wolves teeth just
to look at them in horrified fascination.
"You guys are nuts , you know that?
I wouldn't want a million years old piece
of dental tissue anywhere near me."

"Come on, Cap. These are rare glimpses
into history, man. They aren't bones. They're
mineral deposits that bone left behind..Anybody
who's anybody knows that." Kelly said, eyeballing 
two of the longest fossil fangs he could find out of 
the museum box. "These will go great with my 
shark's teeth. The chicks'll really dig em.."

Lopez just rolled his eyes.

Stoker didn't even look up from the sports
page of his newspaper.

The two of them left Cap to squirm on
Kelly's questionably deep analysis.

Hank said. "I know these aren't real. They just 
have to look real. And for your reference,
my squeamishness isn't coming from me. 
It's my wife rubbing off."

"Blame it on the wife. Sure.. We all know
your hidden phobias.. Inspection days..
Doctors...Sore hands that are unexplained.."
Chet remarked.

Cap didn't dignify Kelly's jab with a comment.
He just tossed the wolves teeth back into
the middle of the table and he got up
to wash his hands thoroughly with soap.

"Don't you think you're going a little bit 
over board with the fossil phobia..?"
Kelly said, relentlessly pursuing Cap.

Hank deflected masterfully. "An hour ago
you were eating fossils according to Johnny
and Roy. And I can't imagine all that ancient
goo tasted very good." he said scrubbing 
his fingers with some steel wool.

"You got that right." Kelly said. "I think I'll
be smelling that tar stuff in my moustache
for at least a week. But getting back onto
the subject. These beauties you're passing up
don't stink.." he said, gesturing to the fossils
the gang had lined up by size on the table top.

Mike Stoker sensed a change in the feel of 
the station. He immediately pegged it when
his glance towards the couch showed that Henry
wasn't snoring there. "Hey fellas..Did anyone see
Henry come back in from outside yet?"

Johnny Gage and Roy DeSoto came into the 
kitchen to see the guys rubbernecking around
and searching for Henry. "What's up? Somebody
drop one of those things?" he asked pointing to
the ancient fossil teeth.


"We lost a dog part all right. Henry.." Lopez said.

"Oh, yeah?" Johnny said going for the coffee pot.

Roy leaned against the counter, sipping the cup
his partner handed him without saying anything.

Cap wandered over to the kitchen window and
cracked a blind. "He's still out there. Same as he
was when we got that last call. He's a statue, 
still waiting for something."

Roy rubbed his chin. "I wonder what he's up to?"

"Oh, about a foot and a half.." Kelly quipped.

Johnny made a face at Chet FOR Roy.

"Kelly's too rich for me with all that scientific
analysis and one liners. I'm gonna go take a shower.
I can still smell tar in my hair. " Roy said
and he left for the locker room.

"Make it quick.. It's almost dinner time. You know
what happens then. " Marco groaned.

"Shhh, You'll jinx us.." Stoker hissed.

"Gee Stoker. Haven't you noticed? We've been
jinxed with the mother of all crazy days. How
can things get any worse?" Kelly said.

Hank just rubbed his face, knowing that Murphy's
law was about to strike again.

Five minutes later over saute-ing mushrooms and
steak, the tones went off.

The gang gulped down their coffee, snatched a roll
or two and jogged for the squad and engine while
the address came over the speakers.

Johnny nearly choked on his when the house and
street number were announced. "Cap... I don't believe
this. That's Roy's house.."

"What?" Hank said. "You've got to kidding.. I thought
Joanne and the kids were at her mother's."

"They are.."  Johnny said, scrambling and slipping on
the floor in his haste to take the driver's seat of the squad.
Johnny's eyes shot to the locker room doorway where
he knew Roy would be dashing through, still dripping.
"What should we do?"

"Don't tell him.." Cap said as he slammed his
engine door shut as he belted in.

"But he's gonna know when he sees I'm
driving.."

Cap snapped. "Then I suggest you break it to
him gently.. Let's move.." Hank said as
he watched Roy run in front of the engine and
squad heading for the driver's door. Roy
skidded to a halt when he saw Johnny there already.
He didn't understand the look on Gage's face
as he piled into the passenger seat. He opened
his mouth when Johnny said. "I'll explain it on
the way. Just get in the squad.."
The garage door began to open in front of 
them as Johnny peeled rubber out onto the
street. He was silent as he headed left onto
the avenue.

Roy asked. "Johnny? What's going on?" trying
to sound unworried and casual.

Gage didn't answer and pretended to be
concentrating on the road in front of them.

Roy's hand snaked out and snatched the piece
of paper he knew would be in Johnny's pocket
with the address of the call they were responding
to. Gage tried to snatch it back and the squad almost
swerved out of the lane and slowed to the point
of making Mike hit the brakes a bit to avoid
plowing into the squad's rear bumper.

Cap's voice burst over the private band, truck
to truck. ##Front and center up there. Sharpen
up. Minds on the job, guys.## he snapped.

Gage picked up the squad mic and apologetically
replied, "Sorry, Stoker." and he hung it up again.

Roy's face was just radiating out of his shock when
he realized that their call was to his own house.
"A fire?! I don't get it? Nobody's home.."

"We'll know everything once we get there, Roy.
Just stay calm." Johnny said, completely not
that state himself.

"I think I should be asking that same question
of you. " Roy said agitatedly about Johnny's
driving. "I shoulda known something like this
was up the second I saw your butt in the driver's 
seat."

"Lash at me all you like.. I don't care. This isn't
gonna be fun. For any of us." Johnny whined.

He turned the corner that led to the side street
that crossed Roy's street and soon, they all
saw the problem.

The gang bailed out of the engine and rescue
squad and Cap began to issue hose
layout instructions and Stoker took the engine
down the road to peel hose off the hose bed
while Marco took a length to wrap around a 
hydrant to secure it for the pull. 

"I don't believe it..That's a brand new roof."
Roy agonized.

"Was at any rate." Chet remarked drolly as he
began to release the hydrant valve with his
wrench to screw on a hose connector.

Roy's mouth was still hanging open at the sight
of his own house on fire when his eyes fell on
the sight of a utilities van parked and open a couple
of houses down the street. "Oh, no.. Don't tell me..
The water company's here for a burst pipe."

A rippling curse erupted out of Chet when he
finally got the hydrant cap off the hydrant and
only its metal ping hit the pavement without
the sound of gushing water. "Dry hydrant, Cap!"
he shouted.

"What?!" said Johnny, Roy and Cap in triplicate.
"Impossible!"

"Look at this and tell me it's impossible.." Chet
said defensively.

Cap sighed in long suffering and got on his HT
to the engine. "Stoker. Loop her back around.
We gotta use the engine tanks. No water in the 
hydrants. Looks like the local utilities has them shut off. 
I'm also calling for immediate back up. Johnny, go 
in there with Lopez and start ventilating the 
second story."

"What? You're gonna start ripping out my ceilings?
Cap, the fire's not that bad yet.." Roy complained.

"New roofing paper and shingles huh? Best kind
of tinder.." Cap said.  He returned to the engine
cab and told L.A. exactly what they had and
to turn off the power and the gas service
to Roy's side of the street.

Roy turned his eyes back onto the sight of his
house burning. "Oh, man.. When I find out
how this got started.."

Vince Howard pulled up in the squad car and
dragged out an errant nine year old boy that
Roy recognized.

DeSoto hissed. "Butch, don't tell me. A tennis
ball can launcher and lighter fluid.."

"What's that?" Cap asked.

"A thing the kids are doing nowdays. Homemade 
rockets which shoot tennis balls off from their
cans like a cannon ball in a cannon." Roy said
aiming a glare at the defiant neighborhood boy.

Vince nodded his head. "It's all over his clothes
and the dispatcher said that it was this little guy
who called it in. Probably because he thought
it would get him off easy."

Roy sighed. "But how are we gonna get off easy?
Meanwhile, my roof's burning through to the rest
of the house."

"Take it easy, Roy. The other tanker station's only
two minutes from here." Hank reassured his more
than agitated paramedic.

"No.." DeSoto said, thinking of something else
as he panicked.

"Yes.." Cap and Johnny reassured him. As yet,
Marco and Johnny hadn't moved from the street.
They were too worried about Roy.

"Wait!" Roy said, trying to come up with a 
solution to their burning roof with no water 
problem.

"What?" Cap and Johnny and Vince asked.

"There's a pond next door. Can we rig a
water pump to it to extend the gallons we got?"
Roy asked Cap.

"I don't know. Stoker knows what the engine can
or can't do that way."

"How about a helicopter water drop?" Johnny asked
seriously.

"In the city?!" Cap and Roy both exclaimed 
incredulously.

"I'm trying to help us out here!" Johnny said
in defiance, removing his helmet and running fingers
through his hair.

Roy said. "I know that.. I'm trying, too, but I'm freaking
out so bad I can't think straight."

"Why did you think Cap had me drive?" Gage said.

"Hey, Gage. You insisted on driving. "Cap interjected.
"Point fingers where the blame really is." he said with
a half grin, the first since the crazy call went out.

Just then, a part of the roof caved in, dragging all
of their attentions back to the urgent matter at
hand.

"Cap..." Roy whined.

Cap lifted his HT. "Station 51 to Station 127. What's
your ETA? Our fire may be burning through to the second
story."

Roy quailed.
"Oh, no.. The second story? That's all our bedrooms.
All those toys! All those antiques we had in the attic!
Gone!" Roy said, running fingers through his thinning 
hair.

"Don't worry, Roy.." Lopez said, jogging by with
another hose stretched out to run to Truck 127 when
she got there. "That's what homeowner's insurance is
for."

"I don't wanna have to sue the fire department for
negligence to cover all this.." Roy panicked again.

"You can sue the fire department?" Kelly asked.

"No.." Cap said.

"Yes." Stoker said.

"Wait!"

"What?!" said all of them. 

"My house is still burning here.." Roy said.

"We know that.."

"Well, let's get cracking.." DeSoto snapped.

Roy started to go towards the house
to begin the ventilating it when Cap stopped
him. "You're sitting this one out. You're in no
shape to handle any of this.."

"What do you mean I'm not in any shape to 
handle this?" DeSoto said, pulling free of
Cap's grip on his jacket. "It's my house."

"Exactly.." Cap said. "Stay here.. Tell Truck 127
what's going on when they get here. Let's go
you three. Looks like no SCBA's are needed yet." 
and he and Johnny and Marco dashed into the 
house to see what they could do with fire hooks 
and axes to slow the progress of the growing 
roof fire to keep it from getting into the walls.

Cap trusted Johnny to know the rooms and
where the stairwell was to the upper floor.
He and Marco followed Gage, taking the stairs
two at a time to where the smoke was
billowing through the ceiling. It had not
yet broken through from the attic to the
rooms below.

A thick curtain of smoke hung near the floor
however and it brought a thought to Johnny's
mind. "Oh, no. Cap. What kinda pets does
Roy's kids have?"

"A cat. I think." Cap said.

"A cat?"  

"Yeah." Marco replied.

"I don't know cats very well. What would
they do in a fire?" Johnny asked.

"They'd hide.." Cap said. "Ours hides during
thunderstorms."

"Smoke's real thick. Roy's kids'll be real upset
if we let this roof fire kill him with smoke."
Gage said with a pained expression.

"What do you expect me to do?" Cap said.
"The house comes first."

"Cap, I can look for him.." Marco said.
"You and Johnny can stay in here and
see what you can pull down to slow
the fire up there.."

"Sounds like a plan. Keep a lifeline on
ya.." Cap said.

"What's his name?" Marco shouted over
the noise Johnny was making as he pulled down
a part of the ceiling that felt hot and ready to catch
fire.

"What's who's name?" Cap asked.

"The cat's."

"Calico.."

"Calico, like the horse from the kid books?"

"Yeah.."

Marco set off through the knee deep smoke
with his fire hook. "I'll tug if I need ya.." said
Lopez, shouting behind him as he hurried
down the hall.  He left Johnny and
Cap where they were and he set off to the first
room at the end of the long passageway. 

It was a girl's room.  Marco felt the door there 
carefully before he opened it. He also swept a 
foot through the thick smoke hanging on the floor
searching for a litter box to give him a hint
where the cat might favor as a hiding place.

He didn't feel the door was anything other than
room temp so Marco opened it. "Calico? Here
boy. You in here?"

Lopez rushed into the room, tipping over
the kid's desk and desk chair, and the kid's bed, 
looking for the cat. "Calico?"

He stumbled over a Barbie's Airplane Stewardess
Playset. He kicked it aside. He ripped the curtains
down to make more evening sunlight cast into
the room. "Hey..Gato. It's time to leave.."

On a thought, Marco deemed it safe enough to open
wide the bedroom window where he was, to provide
a way out should Roy's kid's cat be still in the little
girl's room he had found.

Marco turned around and went for a second door.
Roy's master bedroom. Lopez couldn't help but smile
when his attempt to flip the bed in his search revealed
that the piece of furniture he held was actually a 
water bed. ::Joanne's wish no doubt.::  He only blinked
once when he ripped the sheets and pillows off of it 
looking for Calico, when a silky fire engine red teddy 
drifted down from off his gloves.

Marco gulped in ultimate embarrassment and he
stuttered. "C-Calico. Come on, kitty.. Get out here.
Daddy's outside.."

Lopez again cracked a window open safely and
left.

The last room on the right side was Chris's
room. Marco again felt the door frame for heat
and opened it carefully, hugging the wall.

He entered and immediately heard a rustling
that couldn't be explained by anything else
other than a burrowing cat. "Where are you?"
Lopez said moving towards the sound.

The sound stopped and the smoke rose higher
up Marco's legs. It wasn't yet hot enough for
the smoke to rise to the ceiling.

Marco got on his HT. "HT 51 to Engine 51." he
hailed, knowing that Cap would answer from
down the hall.

##Go ahead.##

"Found him. He's in the third room on the right.
The boy's room. Somewhere.."

##Johnny'll  be right there. He's following your 
rope.##

Marco saw Gage appear almost instantly since
the paramedic knew the layout of Roy's house
very well. "Where is he? This smoke's getting 
kinda thick by this carpetting."

"Over here somewhere. Thought I heard some
rustling.."

Both Gage and Lopez dug around the murky
layer of smoke hanging above the floor and
they tossed aside.. a base ball bat, a jumping
ball, a tinker toy tower, and a toy fire engine
that blasted its airhorn in their faces when it
took to the air.  

Johnny and Marco smirked at that one, then
turned to the business at hand. "Calico?"

Their gloves swept the floor beneath where the
pile of kid's toys had been and hit a body.
"Found him." Gage said, lifting up the limp
cat.

Marco and Johnny looked up at a knocking 
on their window. It was a man from Truck 127
on a ladder leading up to them.
"And there's Calico's ticket outta this smoke."
Lopez said, cradling the unconscious cat
in his arms.

Johnny opened the bedroom window and
handed Calico out to the masked fireman
on the ladder.

"You two, ok in there? I saw the flying
toys. Thought you might need a hand."
said the man from County.

"We're fine. Take this cat. He belongs to
one of our firefighter's kids."

"He breathing?"

"Don't know."

Johnny handed out the limp Calico to
the ladder man and briefly saw him
set his airmask over Calico's face before
the billowing blue curtains shut.

Gage and Lopez reversed their direction
and got out of the house, knowing that
Cap was now coordinating what Engine 51
and Truck 127 could do with their two water
supplies to combat the roof fire.

Cap decided things looked good. The fire
had stayed in the attic.


Down on the street, Roy saw a familiar station
wagon drive up. "Joanne! " he shouted and
he left the curbside to softened the blow
for her and the kids of seeing their house
smoking and receiving two firehoses worth
of water into the attic story.

Joanne and Roy's kids met in a tight knot
of hugs as they caught up on events and soon
his daughter piped up. "Daddy, did Calico get
out?"

Roy honestly didn't know. And he kicked himself
for not thinking of him sooner. 

Right then, a ladder man from Truck 127 walked
up and said, "I believe he belongs to you, little
miss.." he said with a grin.

"Calico..." Roy's daughter sobbed and she
gathered up the smoky, now awake cat into
her arms and started crying.

Roy's paternal and paramedic instincts both
kicked in. "There. Looks like he's all right.
Why don't you let daddy check him out.
Looks like Uncle Johnny's already got some
02 and a plastic sheet already set out
for him.." Roy said to his relieved family
to calm them down even more.

He helped his daughter carry Calico over
to the squad for his smoke inhalation
treatment.

Cap nodded with satisfaction as he
watched Johnny examine and give
Calico some 02 to help him recover
faster from his near suffocation.
He tapped Roy on the shoulder.
"Looks good.."

"No, it still looks bad.." Roy grinned
about the house.

Cap grinned, too. "The fire's completely
out. We're just moving in some ppv's to
clear out the smoke in there. The stuff never
got downstairs at all so there's very light smoke
damage. And only the attic rafters and the roof
burned. We were lucky this time.."

"Yeah. I guess so. I had those attic timbers
treated last fall with fire retardant."

"Good thing.." Cap nodded. "Take your
time here. I called us out with Station 127 until
the cleanup's complete. And I made sure
those hose guys are keeping the water damage to
a minimum.."

"Appreciate it, Cap."

"No problem.. Do you need a place for you,
Joanne and the kids to stay tonight? I've
heard Johnny's place is a little too small."

"Nah, I think I'll take em to a hotel.
A Howard Johnson's with a swimming pool.
We might as well turn this whole thing into
a mini vacation."

"Sounds like a plan." Cap said. "Your cat ok?"

"Yeah, Johnny's just ventilating him a bit
before Joanne takes him to the vet's for a 
checkup."

"ok, pal. Sorry this crazy day had to turn out
like this, but if your roof had to catch fire, this
is the best outcome. I'll be right back for your
scene info on what you know of this Butch
kid and his fondness for incendiaries."

Roy's face fell into annoyance and anger for
only two seconds before the sight of his
daughter and Chris hugging Calico wiped
it away.

---------------------------------------------------------

All the guys, including Roy had just cleaned
up in the bathrooms when Chet noticed something
drifting in the air behind him while he teased his
curly hair into shape with his pick. It was a white
feather of all things.

"What th-?" he exclaimed. "Hey guys, get in here.
Either we got another pigeon in the roof top
ventilation fan or somebody here's suddenly moulting
flight feathers.."

Cap and the gang came, half dressed from the locker
room into the bathroom. Chet pointed to yet
another feather drifting down into the still night
air. All of their jaws slacked open and they all
began to follow the trail of fallen feathers slowly.

The trail ended up in the bunkroom.

"Oh, no..." Kelly exclaimed. "Not again..!
Where am I gonna sleep tonight...?" he asked.

The gang cracked up when they saw a sleeping
exhausted pile of three very familiar dogs amid
shredded sheets, blankets and a pillow lying on
Chet's bunk, haphazardly.

"Bonnie? Boot?" Cap asked. "What are they doing
here?"

Johnny cracked up. "Well now we know what Ol
Henry was up to earlier this afternoon. Looks
like he wanted a slumber party or something
and all that baying was just invitation.. Our
little mystery is solved."

The gang tiptoed out to let Henry and his
friends nap in peace. They could swear all three
were grinning. 

Roy said, "Come on, Chet. Let's go grab
some coffee."

"Hang on, hang on. Guys, we still got a little
problem here. Where am I gonna sleep tonight?"

Gage said. "I dunno. How about you taking over...
Henry's place.."

The gang cracked up as they left Chet to frown
over the three snoozing, liberally feathered
dogs.

"What a crazy day.." Kelly mumbled, but finally
he began to chuckle. "Henry, I know how you
feel. I could have been tarred...and feathered today
if you had not waited an hour or two. Oh, well.
See you guys in the morning.."

He quietly shut off the bunkroom main light
as he left.

Chet Kelly shuffled off to the kitchen, kicking
through the fallen layer of soft white feathers
like a kid through autumn leaves.

-------------------------------------

Photos : None.

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


FIN

     :)   This episode is dedicated to Calico the cat, a loyal  :)
          and faithful friend to one. And to Spice, another
          warm and loving cat who's left this earth for
          the spirit world. May they both smile reading
          this episode.                                                      :)                                                                                

@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@
   
The Story Unfolds...

Season One, Episode Eight..  
      
     The Promise

 ****************************************
From : "Roxy Dee" <laterrapincabesa@hotmail.com>  
Subject : Working Like a Dog..  
Date : Thu, 22 May 2003 23:00:35 +0000  
   
 
It was nine o'clock.

Johnny Gage flew into the locker room whistling up
a storm. He was happy. He saw his partner, still
carefully unfolding his uniform socks like he usually
did each morning. He was sitting on the bench with 
his back to him and hadn't yet noticed Johnny's
arrival.

Gage he couldn't resist playing shave and a haircut 
over Roy's upper back and ribcage with a few well
placed finger drums in areas that sounded off musically.
On the last two notes of 'six pence,' Roy's chest 
echoes sounded off pitch sour and they made the blond 
haired paramedic cough in response. Johnny frowned.
"Ooo, Roy. You still got that bad cold? You sound
covered in your left lung, lower quadrant."

Roy just looked up and rolled his eyes. "It's not
pneumonia, just a little smoke inhalation from
that fire two days ago. You know as well as I do 
that I've been cleared for duty. And it's not a bad
cold. Bad colds on me always hit me in the sinuses, 
not my chest. You don't need to paramedic me to 
death over it. I always know how I'm doing by how 
I feel. And besides I sound a little bubbly, Dr. Early
tells me, because I'm a fireman." he grinned.

"Not like this.." Johnny said, thumping over Roy's
back once again over the tattle tailing area with
more raps. He dropped his hands into a tickling mode,
attacking his partner's waist on both sides. That made 
Roy cough liquidly when he laughed as he shifted ticklishly
away to avoid him. It soon set off a jag that got fairly
violent. "Uh, huh.. Not sitting in your chest, eh?"
Gage said challengingly with his hands angled on 
his hips. "I'll just bet this is bronchitis setting in. 
I can almost hear the precursors of rales from here, 
even bare eared."

"So now you're my self appointed doctor, too?"
Roy smirked, spitting up some phlegm into a tissue
that he produced out of his shirt pocket. He balled
it up and threw it away into a waste bucket nearby.

"No, I'm not your doctor. Just being a lookout." he
said seriously, still thinking about what he had
found on his friend.

"Yeah, well. I'll do anything to stop you from
attacking me with your trademark tickle assessment. 
You know I hate that. Took forever to get the kids
to stop doing it and something tells me you'll be even
harder to train to break ya of the habit." He said frankly,
tying his shoes neatly. "I can't miss another day of work 
since I got major bills to pay. Joanne's amniocentesis tests
alone were three hundred forty dollars. Tell you what, I'll 
work some O2 off the resuscitator before breakfast until 
the congestion eases to where you want it. Will that 
make you feel better?" he grinned in good natured 
compliance. 

John clapped his hands in celebrative success.
"Sure would, Pally. Don't wanna have to report ya to 
Cap trying to sneak to work early, still afflicted with 
water lung. Just as long as I can follow up afterwards
with a stethoscope for a listening or two." he added, 
putting on a winning smile when Roy rolled his eyes at 
the added black mail. "We can sneak the apparatus into 
the bunk room so Cap won't hear you using it. I'll tell 
him you... " Johnny said hunting for an excuse..
"...cut yourself shaving or something."

Roy chuckled. "That explains why I'll be late for
breakfast. What's your excuse?"

"Me? " Johnny gestured expansively. "Well, you know
how I always break my shoelaces. I do believe I broke 
both of them this morning, one right after the other for
trying to dress too fast yet again." he lied.

Roy got up from the bench as he threw on his shirt
and left through the door to go make his bunk up
for the day. "Sounds good." 

"Don't tuck your uniform in until we're through."
Johnny shouted after him. "I'll be right there!"

"Yes, mother.." DeSoto teased as he walked past 
Chet, who was working out with barbells in front 
of the engine on a mat. 

Kelly stopped when he overheard Johnny's comment.
Then he grinned when he figured it out. "Another
smoky chest cover up?"

"Must be to Johnny. I feel fine." Roy complained.
"So I'll play along. Don't want his sticking like a tick
syndrome to last all day."

"Yeah, know what you mean. I feel sorry for all the
victims you guys treat in the field. They have to put
up with Gage for the duration, when they're not
feeling too hot to boot." Chet puffed, beginning
another set of arm lifts from his stomach to his
chin.

Roy smirked in quiet amusement at Kelly's unique
view of paramedics. "They seem to get better faster
if I let him be the primary assessor. Why else do you 
think I'm always starting the IV's?"

Chet just shuddered. "Remind me to never get hurt
or sick when Gage's on duty, ok? That scenario's
just too unpleasant to even contemplate." he kidded.

"Ditto.." Roy said moving into the sleeping
room. "It's gonna take me all day to convince
him that I'm not infectious here." his voice
admitted, wafting out of the doors before they 
closed off his echoing reply.

Gage immediately stopped whistling as
he entered the vehicle bay and he
tip toed to the squad's side compartment
to open it. Then he reached inside after 
seeing the coast was clear. He noticed Chet
working out nearby, breathing heavily with effort
under the barbells in a difficult butterfly exercise.
"Kelly, you're blind for thirty seconds.." he
said without preamble.

"As a bat.." Kelly said, straight faced and
cooperative. "I'll even deflect Cap if we
have to rapid stow it if a call goes out."

Gage double glanced in surprise but said
 "..'kay.." to instantly cover it. ::How the heck
did Chet figure that out so fast..:: he thought.
Then he shrugged. ::I can live with Kelly
being no obstacle for once. Something tells
me I'd better take advantage of it.::
"Let me know where they are on cooking,
would ya?"

"I'll be the cleverest man alive." Chet promised.

Johnny gingerly lifted out the O2 and jammed a 
burn blanket packet or two against the usually 
clangy oxygen cylinder so he could wheel it into 
the bunk room for Roy to use. Another hand, cracked
open the trauma kit where it sat in the compartment
rack, and he reached in and groped around until
he found the balled up stethoscope by feel alone.
Two seconds later, the squad was resealed up
and Gage disappeared into the depths of the
bunk room after Roy.

Kelly kept one ear on the kitchen door for
sounds of activity. He heard Stoker throw a
few strips of bacon on the counter top fryer.
"My.. that bacon smells good. Gimme six
Stoker. I'm really working up an appetite out
here.." He shouted to the gang gathered in
the kitchen. "So's Johnny and Roy. They'll
be right in to butter the toast.."

Johnny winced at Chet's lack of subtleness
and cringed. ::Thank goodness, Cap doesn't
get scheme sharp until he has his coffee and
I'm not smelling any of that brewing yet.::
"Here.. Roy.." he hissed in a whisper, parking
the O2 where Roy was leaning over making his
bed up with neat hospital corners. "Better hurry.
Kelly says the bacon's on."

Roy turned and surprised his partner when he
had a still snoozing Bonnie draped over his
forearm. "Maybe we outta use some of that 02
on her." he joked. "Even bacon's not rousing her 
outta her sleep this morning. Found her snoring
away on my pillow."

"I'm not surprised. She must've chased after
hundreds of Kelly's off target soft ball pitches 
in the yard yesterday while we practiced."
Johnny chuckled, taking the sleeping Yorkie
from Roy so he could begin his self treatment
off the mask.

Roy took a pull off the O2, coughing when he
felt the cool oxygen work its way down through
the raspy tight spots in his left lung. "About time
you guys started in. The tournament's next week."

Johnny scoffed and not mildly. "We woulda started
sooner if you hadn't changed your mind about joining
the team."

Roy sucked in another breathful of oxygen and coughed
to force it out again. "You know I couldn't be a part
of the games this year. Both kids are entering 
the little leagues. I've got games of my own to go
to."

John reconsidered as he stroked the sleeping
Bonnie's head and straightened the red ribbon
tied on a lock there. "I see your point. They come
first." he said gently. He adjusted Bonnie's head
on his arm so her loud snoring eased off into
light sighs and he wandered over to the desk
to give her a good brushing over with her wire
brush. "I might as well get her cared for, too,
while I can still get away with it." he said.

Roy laughed. "Smart move, doing it now while
she's still dead to the world. Didn't she almost
take off your finger at the second knuckle
last time you tried to brush her?"

Johnny set shushing fingers over his lips
as he sat down on Roy's bed to work her over
cautiously like a barber with a barely contained 
powder keg. "Just keep busy over there." Gage 
whispered. "I'm watching ya closely. Breathe in 
deeper, you're not getting enough alveolially." he 
snapped in irritation that was completely faked.

DeSoto complied with drawing in lungfuls so big, 
that his ribs cracked in protest, just to tease Gage. 

Johnny's mock stern expression likewise shattered
into a bubbling look of you-got-me back.

Laughing to himself, Roy thought. ::Some day, 
Junior.. You're going to be an absolutely wonderful
father. I'll make sure to give you plenty of contact
with the kids so you can hone those skills even
more.::

Bonnie remained oblivious to Johnny's
ministrations where she lay like a rag doll
on her back across the beige bedspread, still 
snoring softly.

------------------------------------------------------

Mike Stoker barely glanced up from his
cooking when another odd breakfast comment 
from Kelly out in the bay floated in to him. "Man, 
is he being a little too obvious or what?" he 
whispered to Marco, who was arranging fruit into 
a wooden bowl for the table.

"Yeah.." Lopez agreed. "I wonder what Gage and
DeSoto are up to."

They both shot glances at Cap, who remained
unaware of anything out of the ordinary as he 
opened the morning mail while he watched the 
daily morning show on the television set. He cut his 
finger on the edge of an envelope and cursed until 
Stoker whistled aloud to get his attention. 

Mike tossed the metal envelope opener Hank had 
left on the table earlier, back over through the air to 
him. 

"Thanks, pal. I'll get a bandaid for this later."
Captain Stanley continued to pour over the bills
while Marco and Stoker kept nervously watching
the door for the tardy Roy and Johnny.

-----------------------------------------------------------

"Wait a minute. Wait a minute.You're back a 
day early because of an amniocentesis bill?" 
Johnny asked belatedly. 

Roy nodded reluctantly. Shy.

"You mean to tell me you two are expecting again 
and you didn't bother to tell any of us about it?"

Roy pulled away the O2 mask sheepishly. "What's
to tell? I-I..I mean, a new baby on the way isn't all
that important an event to even share here
at work. Especially with this being our third."

"Whatdiya mean not important, Roy? You're forgetting
that we all didn't know ya yet when your other two kids
were born. Thanks for excluding us from the news,
buddy. Makes us feel real welcome and chummy here."
Johnny complained.

Roy played with the resuscitator in his hands. "Sorry.
Didn't think you, or any of the guys would be interested 
in family matters."

Johnny scoffed as he put away Bonnie's brush and
began the long task of untangling her head ribbon
and rubber band to replace them with a brand new 
red one, all without disturbing her rest. 
"How can we not be interested in your life, Roy? 
We know about Marco's sweet little enchilada cooking
mother. And Chet's prankster sister and Cap's nagging
wife..."

To each, Roy nodded honestly. 

But then Gage spoke again. "And and..and you 
guys even get to hear all about my dates I go on 
every week."

Roy didn't say out loud what he was thinking.
::Yeah, we sure do. Intimate details of all fifteen 
crash and burns logged to date in Johnny's
little black book. ::  What he actually said out
loud was. "Didn't think you wanted to know
about things like that. The pregnancy with new baby
thing's kinda boring to anyone who's not married."

"So.. What's that got to do with anything? So
what if Stoker, Marco, me and Chet are still
swinging single. We can still care about our crewmates
AND their wives. Geesh. Give us the benefit of
a doubt. We're friends, aren't we?"

"I get constantly reminded of that." DeSoto
quipped, hefting up the flowing O2 mask he still
had in his hands.

"So tell us all about how Joanne and the baby
are doing over breakfast when we're through here."
he suggested.. " or I'm gonna break the good news 
FOR ya." Gage said, putting on his stethoscope. 
"Now lean over with your elbows on your knees
and fold your T shirt up. I'm gonna listen to ya 
while you're taking that in some more."

Roy went through the whole rigmorale, breathing
when ordered and holding his breath too, as Johnny 
got aural information of how his left lung was faring 
under the cleansing onslaught of the O2 treatment.

Another minute went by with an edge of dizzyness 
setting in from the rich air intake, when Johnny 
announced. "Ok, you're through. That crackling's gone 
for now. We'll do this same thing tonight before lights
out and maybe post rescue once more if we have to go 
into a fire today." he said in full medical mode.

"If you say so. Bye.." Roy said, tossing down the mask.
He scrubbed Bonnie's sleeping head once and
made haste for the kitchen and the food that
was a becoming a serious siren's call in his nostrils.

"Hey! Aren't you gonna help me clean up here?"
Johnny protested, indicating Bonnie's hairy brush,
abandoned old ribbon and the O2 apparatus.

"Nope."

---------------------------------------------------------------
Roy was halfway through emptying 
his plate when Johnny ambled in distractedly for
his own morning meal.

Marco and Stoker immediately began motions of drawing
rings around their necks at Gage and looking urgent.

Roy frowned, not immediately catching on and his
active chewing slowed.

His crewmates broke off their antics immediately 
when Cap came over from the rec side of the room 
to sit down in his customary chair by the station wall 
phone. 

Johnny was retrieving his eggs eagerly from
the pan on the stove, so he missed all the warning
hints from the rest of the gang. Roy missed them, 
too, still intent on smothering the hunger pains
in his stomach that had been sharpened by his
use of the O2.

It was too late when Roy finally noticed what Marco
and Stoker and Chet had been frantically hinting 
about.

Cap didn't even blink when his eyes caught it.
He glanced down again to fill his empty plate. 
"Nice stethoscope round your neck there, Johnny. 
Just be sure to have whoever it is you saw just now, 
run by Rampart on your next resupply for a doctor's 
check up to confirm what you ruled in or out."

"Uh," Johnny stammered. He hastily pulled off the
tattling device and coiled it up onto the table guiltily.
"Yessir.."

"And next time. I wanna know about it, too. First,
before anyone else when you decide to examine
someone for signs of trouble."

Johnny nodded, rendered mute with instant remorse.

Roy admitted. "He was looking at me, Cap. 
Tamped lung. We've just cleared it out with O2."

Johnny and Chet and Marco and Stoker all glared
at Roy for blowing their carefully crafted cover.

Cap just kept on chewing. "Glad we got one honest
fireman here this morning. Gage you got the can 
detail later for hiding him from me."

"Aw, Cap.." Roy immediately protested. "It's not
his fault. I just couldn't stay home another day
without pay. My sick leave was all used up when I 
got electrocuted a month ago while that trainee was 
here. If you punish anyone, punish me. It's my fault
for not levelling with ya on the phone last night
when ya called on how I was doing."

"Ok. You got mop detail. Vehicle AND kitchen floors.
And the next time you stifle a physical symptom from
me or Gage, you'll get a formal reprimand, is that
clear?" Cap said.

"Y-Yes sir.." DeSoto nodded, not daring to chew.

"Last thing I need is a weakness in the man power 
chain I don't know about, Roy. I thought you guys knew
well enough to tell me ahead of time whenever 
someone's not feeling one hundred percent ship 
shape so I can make plans for safety to cover for ya."

"Sorry, Cap. I was thinking about my paycheck
and not my own well being for a bit there."

"Oh... New baby on the way, eh?" Cap said, 
immediately dropping his disciplinarian air.

All the guys around the table just about choked
on their eggs.

"What? Why did ya keep us in the dark about it?"
"Roy, that's terrific.."
"Wow.. number three."
"What do ya want this time? A boy or girl?"

Roy held up defensive hands to those
upset by not finding out sooner. "I- I- I just
didn't think anyone would be interested,
that's all, so pipe down and stop looking like
I kept a secret from ya. Cap. How did you know
we were pregnant here?"

"I did the same hiding symptoms stunt with
my captain when I had pregnancy check up
bills to pay too. Only I tried to hide a sore
shoulder and not a phlegmy chest. How IS 
he doing, Gage? Give it to me straight."
Hank said, glaring at Johnny, piercingly
changing the subject.

"Just fine, Cap." Johnny mewed. "Now.."
he glared at Roy.

DeSoto threw up his hands. "Glad 
we're so chummy. I'm fine. Joanne's
fine. Baby number three's fine. So can
we get back to eating now that the
hard talk and the small talk's over? 
I'm starving here."

Cap's eyebrows rose in amusement.
"Don't let me stop ya.."

Arff!  barked Bonnie as she arrowed into
the kitchen after the scent of bacon.

Cap noticed her new hairdo. "Ohmyg*d. Gage..
Pigtails? She looks like one of the Dale
Singers from Hee Haw.."

"Well... I had to make my move while
she was still out. I was rushing a little.
Had to watch her and Roy, too. You can
always try and cut em off while she's eating
but I don't think you'll get anything by her
now that she's conscious. Heh."

"I didn't need watching.." Roy complained.

"Yes you did.." Cap and Gage said together.
They both eyeballed each other and Johnny
cleared his throat uncomfortably, despite
of the fact that Cap's and his thoughts about 
Roy's health status being identical.

Right then, full response tones rippled
out of the overhead speaker.

"Saved by the bell.." Gage mumbled,
heading for the door. He was jogging for
the garage full tilt when Bonnie barked 
to remind him to pick up something he had 
forgotten.

Johnny skidded back to his seat long
enough to grab an armful of fruit to
hand out to the guys and his bundled
stethoscope.

Cap's authoritative voice rang out.
"Roy, if this is a fire call, you're
on the engine pumps. Stoker'll take
your place until you're needed with
any medical emergencies."

DeSoto sighed and just nodded.
But his humor was intact. "Does
this mean I'll get the engineer's rate
of pay?"

"Funny man.." Hank hollered back from
the alcove as he wrote down the response
call's address and type. "I'll see what
I can swing for you.."

The gang fell silent as they geared up
into turncoats and piled into the engine
and squad for the roll out as Sam outlined
details of the current soon to be reality run.

## Station 14, Battalion 9, Station 8, Station 51.
Foam Truck 127, Battalion 14. Truck overturn
and structure collapse. Pacific Coast Highway
and Ventura Freeway. PCH and Ventura Freeway.
Mile Marker 16. FD on scene reports freon is
involved. Timeout 09:23.##

"Oh, great.." Cap groaned sarcastically
when he heard what chemical had been spilled. 
The run would be a major nightmare.

"Station 51, KMG 365.." Hank acknowledged
on the radio before hanging it up again onto
its spigot. "Ok, gang. You heard the man. Let's roll. 
Get ready to gear up full SCBA and chem suits. 
No doubt Haz Mat's gonna be meeting us there."

He caught one of the oranges Gage threw at
him to eat on the way and three more for
Chet, Stoker and Lopez. He began peeling
Mike's to give to him piece by piece while
he drove so none of them would have to
go tackle a major rescue while hungry.

---------------------------------------------------------

When Station 51 arrived on scene, their jaws
literally slacked opened. They couldn't believe
what their eyes were telling them.

One look explained it all. A huge storage
tower, toppled from a roadside construction
site had landed on top of the freeway.

One of the worst motorist reactions Cap
and the gang could see had been from a 
semi driver, whose rig skidded forty five to 
the right angle and had impacted the concrete 
viaduct crossing over the PCH. 

That bridge was now partially collapsed
on top of the tower and truck. Luckily, only
three cars were involved, but many many
construction personnel were either DOA
or only slightly injured.

It looked like a triage area was only just
starting. Hank spied Batallion 14, set up a 
safe distance away from the chemical smoking
collapse scene. He was uncharacteristically
in full SCBA and suit gear carrying a plastic
wrapped HT in one hand. He was issuing commands
from his car's mic in the other over the loud
horn and radio frequency to all the arriving
units.

##Station 51. Approach upwind to the
north side. Use the right most emergency lane.
CHP reports it's been cleared of fatalities. A 
construction site manager is claiming they have 
one of their men missing. See if you can locate 
that victim, then assist Truck 127 in laying down 
a protective foam over that semitrailer. The driver
reports it's carrying liquid freon. We're still 
determining what other chemicals were stored 
in the tower. Stay clear of all visible spills and 
keep your air masks on at all times. Move any 
effected victims one half mile clear before 
rendering aid. Think of yourselves first. This
is a Hazardous Triage Priority Protocol Scene.##

##Station 51, 10-4, Battalion 14.## Hank replied.

Captain Stanley issued secondary commands to 
his engine crew and squad paramedics. Soon, 
they were all masked and roped and hose geared, 
walking cautiously, deep into the frightening grip of 
a full fledged, highly dangerous disaster scene.

Chet's face was devoid of any light hearted
mischief and he was all working firefighter in a way
that rivalled Stoker's usual quiet professionalism.

Roy began to wish he had stayed at home with
Joanne's late first trimester nausea.

Soon something happened that got Roy 
and Johnny's and Marco's immediate attention.

A man was........
------------------------------------------------

Photo :  Bonnie with a red ribbon.

Photo : Roy and Johnny listen by the ER drugcase.

Photo : A water tower down in a parking lot.

Photo : An overturned semi under a highway bridge.

Photo : Johnny and Roy with tanks on.
 
********************************
From : "Cassidy Meyers" <killashandrarey@hotmail.com>  
Subject : In Deep  
Date : Mon, 30 Jun 2003 22:00:43 +0400  
   
 
Tandem post with Leoseven@msn.com "John Allen" and 
Killashandrarey@hotmail.com "Cassidy Meyers" via email 
tennis. 

Acknowledgements to P. Keiper NREMT for Freon Consult 
in the Theater Files and Symptomology. 
 
 
 .......staggering toward them, from about 50 yards away 
obviously dazed and confused. 

Just as Roy and Johnny started jogging 
over to the injured man, a call came over the HT. 

##Engine 51 to HT 51. Marco, this is Cap. I need 
you with me.."## 

"10-4 Cap, I'm gum on your shoe." Marco replied. 

Lopez and the sunlit glow of his yellow bottle disappeared 
deeper into the tangle of fallen metal struts under 
the rising debris dust cloud surrounding them. 

Johnny looked at Roy, shaking his head, and 
gave him a look as if to say 'where does he get 
these expressions?' as they jogged over to 
the disoriented man. 

Roy and Johnny reached the stricken man just in 
time to each grab an arm to keep him from 
falling down backwards, as he blacked out. 

"Whoa there, we gotcha." Johnny reassured him, 
shouting through his SCBA and facemask. Roy 
and Johnny cradled his upper body and head 
deftly. The two fire fighters exchanged a look in 
mutual recognition that they had once again been 
in the right place at just the right time but as quickly, 
their expressions died away into those of fear. 

A nearby high pitched hissing made Gage and DeSoto 
break out into a sweat. "Let's get him outta here." 
Roy said urgently. 

Johnny gave a head nod of silent agreement and 
they began moving with the man to a far safer, 
upwind location. Other firemen joined them from 
the road in carrying him to a hastily erected triage 
location as they hurried out of the immediate area. 

They neared the squad and the engine and 
Cap came jogging over to them. 

"Johnny, Roy. Where'd you find this man?" Cap 
inquired with concern, shouting through his 
air mask. 

"He just appeared about a 150 yards back that 
way." Roy replied, motioning with his head over 
to the spot where they had seen him first. 

"I'll just bet he's our missing construction crewman. 
Let me know when and if he regains consciousness. 
He might be able to clear up matters faster than I 
can." Cap ordered. 

"Sure thing, Cap." Roy replied as they laid the man 
down on a tarp that had been placed on the dirt 
for them by Marco. Roy proceeded to check the 
limp man's vitals and breathing status 
while Johnny went to grab the gear. 

Cap clicked on his HT. "Engine 51 to L.A." 

##Go ahead 51.## 

"On report of a missing construction worker, 
we have located one male, alive, but unconscious. 
Please advise construction foreman and get a 
description so we can verify that we have their 
man, over." Hank shouted through his SCBA. 

## 10-4, Engine 51, we copy your advisement 
and will transmit description as soon as we have 
it.## 

"Copy L.A."  Through somewhat squinted eyes, Captain 
Hank Stanley surveyed the scene and shook his head. 
Teams of firefighters waited at the edge of the accident 
scene while Hazmat crews and trucks swarmed over 
the tangle of twisted tower and truck, searching for other 
hot spots and freon sources. He saw one hazmat team 
gesture quickly for a hose team to wash down a pile of 
seagreen canisters that had tumbled out of 
the tipped over semi. Almost immediately he saw 
a curt double hand signal go out about two fatalities they 
had located by the truck and Hank felt a thrill of horror 
shoot through him even though he couldn't see anything 
from where he stood. "What a mess." he expressed with 
noted dismay and a hint of frustration.. 


Roy and Johnny were busy assessing the fallen 
man thought to be their missing worker. 

"Johnny, Roy? How is our mystery man doing?" 
Cap asked, looking away from the involved 
overpass and viaduct and back towards his men. 

Just then the man on the tarp began to regain 
consciousness where he lay on his side. 

"Sir, can you hear me?" Johnny asked as he caught the 
man's head in his gloves as he groggily rolled over 
onto his back. 

The man coughed and gasped for air as he awoke. 
"Y-" *cough* "Yes." replied the man. "Wh-?" 
he frowned at the sight of fully masked firemen 
kneeling over him. 

Roy spoke up. "Do you remember what happened 
to you? " 

"uhh-hg.." their victim moaned. 

"Sir, we need to know if anyone else was with you. 
Where were you? We've a site boss looking for a 
lost employee." Johnny said, leaning over into 
the man's face, holding his shoulders down so 
he couldn't rise. 

"And we have to find him A.S.A.P." DeSoto added.

Something of Roy's urgency communicated to 
the man and he spoke again, but in a slow slur. 
"I-I was standing over by the water tower, 
over there." the man said confusedly in his 
half out state. 

Johnny grabbed an O2 mask from a resuscitator tank 
a backup fireman in a hazmat suit had left by them 
only moments ago. He strung it, and set it around the 
man's head. "Sir, this oxygen'll help you out a lot. Just 
try to breathe this in evenly. Not too fast." 

The distressed man nodded, gripping the mask eagerly 
in trembling fingers and he struggled to breathe calmly. 

Gage shook his head and mumbled to himself. "Come on, 
wake up." Johnny looked up at Roy and tried a different 
way to get their badly needed information. "Sir, we know 
you're still groggy but we have to find out more about 
what happened around you. Others' safety may depend 
on it. What were you doing when the accident happened?" 

Still lying on his back, the man pointed wearily 
toward the place where Johnny and Roy had first 
seen him appear. But he didn't speak. He began to 
sag into a stupor. 

Gage grabbed a fold of skin on the man's neck and pinched 
firmly. "Hey,...Sir, were there any other people near you 
when the  tower fell?" asked Johnny loudly. 

The pain roused the man. "No. *Cough* I was alone. 
By a construction trailer?" he puzzled, his memory 
proving unclear. 

Roy set a glove on the man's shoulder. 
"Ok, just try to relax. We're paramedics with the Los 
Angeles County Fire Department. We're gonna check you 
out to make sure you're ok, all right?" 

The oxygen was doing its job and the man was 
into better color and mental clarity. This time, the 
nod of understanding came sooner. 

Roy began. "Sir, do you still feel light headed or 
dizzy?" Johnny asked. 

The bigger, heavily dusted man coughed. 
"Yeah, a little.  It was hard to breathe for a 
few minutes there. That gas was really strong." 

"Freon gas?" Johnny asked. 

The gasping man nodded. "Don't know what 
it's called. Just, whatever they were hauling on that 
truck!" he said, getting slightly agitated. 

"Easy.." Johnny said through his mask. "It's ok, you're 
away from there. Just take it easy." 

The man visibly fought being body uncomfortable and 
with effort, began to quell his chemical induced anger. 
Soon, he cooperated with his two rescuers even though 
it remained difficult for him to focus.  "Ugghh... smelled like 
ether. Nasty stuff." replied their victim and he began to 
shiver. 

Gage said. "Ok, we'll get you cleaned off and warmed 
up real soon. Just hang on. I'm gonna get a blood 
pressure off your arm here, all right?" 

The restless man nodded and stopped thrashing his 
limbs. "Fine. Just hurry up, mister. I feel like crap." 

Roy picked up the biophone and shouted loud 
enough to be heard through his breathing apparatus. 
"Rampart, this is Squad 51." 

##This is Rampart. Go ahead 51.## replied Kelly 
Brackett. 

"Rampart, we have a conscious male, age 35-40. He's 
recently regained consciousness on his own after heavy 
exposure to confirmed freon gas. He's experiencing some 
light headedness and dizziness. 

##What are his vitals, 51?## Dr. Brackett asked. 
A tinge of worry slipped into his voice when he recognized 
his paramedic speaking through full containment gear. 

Roy replied as Johnny called them out to him in relay. 
"Vitals are: BP 98 palpated. Respirations are 22 and 
shallow. Pulse is 100 and slightly irregular." 

Back at the base station, Dr. Brackett finished 
taking the information down into his notes. 
##Okay, 51. Put him on 15 liters O2 as near to 
100% as you can if you haven't already and remove 
any contaminated clothing for a thorough washdown. 
  But before he gets wet, send us a strip. I want to be 
sure that those cardiac arrythmias are from the freon and 
not from a newly occuring M.I. Get a detailed medical history. 
Note any preexisting cardiac or pulmonary disease. Positive 
findings on those will change my treatment plan. 
  Roy, under no circumstances, are you to use epinephrine 
on him or any other freon exposed victims at your scene no 
matter what the cardiac situation. Freon's a myocardial 
irritant and any adrenaline type compound entered into 
their tissues will have the ability to kill them in short order. 
If that kind of situation arises, I'll advise other 
parasympathetics for your use. Start an IV of normal 
saline, maintain a good airway and continue a close 
monitoring of his vital signs. Treat for that developing shock. 
Also, be sure to check him thoroughly for signs of frostbite. 
Treat any you find later en route, after you've prepared him 
for transport. ## 

"10-4 Rampart, 100% O2 with a full chemical washdown. 
Starting an IV NS. Please stand by for his EKG. " he nodded 
at Chet, who had replaced Marco to aid Johnny and Roy 
in their patient care. Kelly began cutting away the man's 
clothes for leads placement. Soon all was ready and Roy 
got Chet's all set nod about the monitor. 
"This will be on lead two, Rampart." Roy shouted. We'll 
inform you of any pertinent medical history. 10-4, Rampart, 
on the epinephrine ban, we'll treat for shock and do a 
frost bite check. Understood that further treatment is 
en route." Roy parroted. 

Dr. Brackett sighed. ##51, do you know how many casualties 
you have at your location?## 

"Not yet, doc. The area's still in chaos. But our 
numbers could be substantial. Looks like a filled five story 
water tower collapsed on an occupied construction site and 
parking lot as well as on top of part of the northbound 
freeway system here." Roy replied. 

Dr. Brackett grimaced and sighed. ##10-4, 51.## Kel finished 
his studying the down man's EKG strip and he turned off 
the machine. ##51, I'm reading nominal elevations in 
his ST segments. Looks like the 02 is easing his abnormal 
rhythm. I am confirming a lack of medical cardiac involvement. 
Looks like this is just the gas doing a number on him. 
Also, from here on out. During this crisis, you have 
my permission to treat first and ask questions later. This 
goes for all medical situations. Use the protocol you know 
for guidelines. I'll take full responsibility for your actions. 
Our radio communications will most likely get unreliable 
as operations progress over there..## 

"10-4. Rampart." Roy answered. Both he and Johnny began to 
relax as the man's potential coding risk was ruled out as 
being very unlikely. 

"Ok, Kelly, start the washdown." Gage shouted to him 
and the other firemen gathered around him. 

Chet began playing a brisk hose over the man's body 
and skin as others in waterproof suits rolled him from 
side to side to get full coverage. 

Hank kicked a sandbag back into line as the run off from 
the man channeled down in a made path to the base 
of a broad sand pile at the edge of the construction site. 
::The freon will soak into this sand and Hazmat'll be able to 
barrel it and haul it away.:: 

Gage kept up reassurances to his patient as he 
guarded the man's airway with a firm hold over 
his O2 mask and his face. The man had Johnny's 
gloves in a death's grip. "I know it's cold. Almost through. 
We've got to get any trace of that gas off your skin. Stick through 
ten minutes more of this and I promise you a pile of heated 
blankets once we're in the ambulance." he grinned cockeyed 
through his airmask. 

The man tried to laugh but consciousness fled and 
his eyes rolled up into his head. 

"Hold it! Hold it.." Gage told Kelly. He made 
sure the man was still breathing and slipped in 
an oral airway before switching the 02 mask for 
a demand valve. He began forcing oxygen into 
the man's tired lungs. "Ok, keep going, I got 
him secured." 

Chet continued the man's hose bath. 

Soon, the man was placed in a specially plastic 
lined and rigged Mayfair for his trip to Rampart. 

Johnny handed off the hanging IV and gave his verbal 
notes to the pair of paramedics inside 
who weren't wearing SCBA, being careful not to 
get the water running off his clothes onto the 
floor of the ambulance. "Careful, I'm contaminated 
with freon here." he told them. "Brackett wants 
to know of any COPD or cardiac history if he wakes 
up. Also, sweep for frostbite and treat. We found 
no injuries." 

Nearby, the air masked Cap spoke to the firefighter 
paramedics assigned to take over the man's care. 
"We've a tipped tanker that's burning over there so 
anticipate phosgene and hydrogen fluoride traces, too, 
on him." he informed, throwing a head at the unconscious 
man being carefully assistance ventilated by an 
ambulance attendant. "And get his name and occupation 
to me if you can. We've a missing man out here." 

"Right, captain.." replied the senior paramedic. 
"We'll broadband when we get in if he comes to." 

Gage closed the doors of the Mayfair and slapped 
it twice before backing away. 

As it departed, two teams of firefighters washed 
it down with hoses as it drove slowly out of 
the disaster area and onto the freeway. CHP motorcycles 
escorted ahead of it showing the traffic cleared 
route to the hospital through the maze of 
abandoned vehicles angled everywhere. 

Lopez jogged over from the Battalion Chief's car 
over to Hank, pausing first before entering the ambulance 
landing area to be briefly hosed down by perimeter 
hazmat firefighter crews. "Cap, I got our 
orders, just like you asked me to do. Chief wants 
us to enter ground zero of the water tower to start 
a victim search. The construction boss just 
told us a van filled with teens was joyriding in 
the back of his company lot just before the semi hit 
the tower. No one has seen any of them or the 
van since." 

"What does the van look like?" Hank asked, wiping water 
spray off his mask with a glove. "We might as well 
start there." 

"Uh,..." Lopez hesitated. 

"Well..?" Cap thundered. 

Marco peeped. "Have you ever watched 
Scooby Doo, Cap? The boss says it looks like 
that. Sort of purply technicolored." 

"Wonderful.. " Hank said sarcastically. "Gage. 
DeSoto. You heard him. Pack up your gear again 
and go. You're first in after the hazmat team 
checks out that end of the scene." 

"Right.." Gage said. "Chet, help me pack up this 
EKG monitor. Run it to us as soon as we're outta 
there with somebody." 

"You got it." 

Cap and Kelly started to turn back to 
the staging area when Roy stopped Hank. 
"Cap, when Johnny and I were in there. We heard 
some leaking gas. Sounded like a portable tank 
going off." 

"Where?" Cap said, whirling around to face 
the heart of the collapsed tower. 

"By a red pickup and a pile of pallets, Cap. 
I heard it, too. If I didn't know any better, I'd 
say the truck was unloading its payload AT 
the construction site when the water tower fell. 
The tanks I think I saw were already piled neatly 
outside the truck. They looked stacked about 
three or four rows high and nine deep." 

"Really.." Cap breathed in significance. "Chief'll 
love hearing this. Five times over the National 
Federal Standard trucking through the heart of 
L.A. judging from the number of tanks 
you're telling me about. Somebody's heads are 
gonna roll. But not from any resulting explosions 
from them that's for sure." and he hefted his HT 
to his faceplate. "This is Engine 51 to all units. A 
paramedic has reported leaking freon from a tank 
cache in the immediate vicinity of ground zero next to 
a red pickup truck. Watch yourselves." 

Immediately, Hazmat responded. ##HazMat Two to 
Engine 51.## 

"Go ahead Hazmat.." Hank answered via radio. 

##We've found the point source and more 
in a box car. We are cooling down with foam 
and fan spray. Your rescue men are clear to 
re enter the area.## 

"That was fast.." Chet remarked, wrapping 
the EKG leads back into the case rapidly. 

"They'd better be." Cap said. "There's too 
great a density of civilians and department 
personnel to monkey around with. Gage. 
DeSoto. Get going. Keep on your radios. 
Marco, Kelly. Go with them. If this van of 
kids was full we're gonna need a lot of man 
power. I'll have a team run with your gear 
soon as you spot anything. Carrying any will 
just slow you down." 

"Right, Cap." came everyone's reply. 


Johnny and Roy felt the hot sun on their backs 
and the wet coolness of the covering spray being 
blown on the wind from Hazmat's water curtains 
and shuddered as they retraced their steps from 
the victim decontamination area and back into 
the disaster zone. 

Gage whistled low under his breath as he 
spotted car after car that the water tower had 
levelled as it fell flat. He picked up a wooden 
board and banged three times on the hollow, still 
intact massive drum of the water tower. It answered 
back, still liquidy hollow. "Water's still in there, Roy. 
If that gives way..." 

"I know.. Just keep lookin.." DeSoto said through tight 
teeth. 

The four firemen rounded a turn after pushing aside 
metal debris and tangles of construction wire. 

They found where Hazmat was containing the leak 
Roy and Johnny had heard getting their first victim out. 
The foam was thigh deep and the water curtain thick 
over a box car full of powdered aluminum labels. 
"Oh, great.." Gage groaned. "Freon only reacts with 
metals of certain types and what do we get? A whole 
box car full of em.." 

"Think positive thoughts, partner.." Roy grinned. 

"Tryin to." Gage replied. 

Then there was a shout from Kelly just ahead. 
A gust of wind rose in a dust cloud making things 
hard to see. "On the double. Found one..!" Chet 
shouted. 

Marco, Johnny and Roy rushed forward to see Kelly 
kneeling over an asphyxiated girl on the ground whose 
hands were locked tightly over her own blue throat. 

Gage snapped his radio receiver over his mask 
and shouted. "Any available recovery team. We 
need a resuscitator to our 10-20. Now! Watch 
for my vertical hose spray!" and he snatched 
up a standby charged hose and shot a stream up 
over the debris dust cloud to mark their location. 

Short moments later. ##We see you. There 
in less than one.## came a Hazmat reply. 

Behind them, was the van of teenagers they had 
been seeking. It was partially buried by tower 
beams with a crushed roof. Looming overhead 
was the bulk of the unruptured ten thousand gallon 
water tower reservoir hanging right over the van 
and the whole mess was still creaking as its 
tremendous weight still crushed down closer 
to the ground. The moans grew louder 
when the van's flimsy roof gave way another 
six inches under its burden. 

Kelly, Marco and Roy knelt helplessly unable 
to do anything for the apneic girl with their 
SCBA masks still strapped to their faces. 

Chet started to take his off to do something 
active about that but Roy stopped him. 
"No! Your safety's first. We're downwind of 
those tanks and the burning truck. Wait. 
She's still got a carotid. We've got time." 

Marco ran the rest of the way to his gangmates 
and slammed to his knees at the top of the girl's 
head. "Roy?" He didn't like the fact that Roy 
and Johnny didn't yet have their gear nor the 
darkening cyanotic color forming over the young 
teen's features. 

"She's gotta pulse, Lopez." Roy said calmly tense. 

"Then she's only just resp arrested." 

"Looks like." DeSoto said, opening her airway 
further using a jaw thrust in prep for the airway 
and O2 that was on its way. 

Pounding footsteps and clattering O2 metal greeted 
them from the sunlit gloom. 

"Over here!" Gage said to a Hazmat man with 
the medical gear, dropping his hose and shutting 
it off. 

In no time, they had their resuscitator. 

Gage saw Kelly begin to use it around Roy's 
airway hold and he subconsciously held his 
breath until he saw the girl's chest rise. Once 
and again. A few ventilations later and the ominous 
cyanosis began to retreat. "Chet? She fighting you?" 

"Not at all." 

Gage reached into the small jumppack the firefighter 
had given him for an esophageal airway and a tube 
of lubricant. ::Thanks, doc, for the pre go ahead. We 
owe you one.:: 

As he waited for Kelly to hyperventilate the girl 
in prep for his airway insertion, John felt a sudden 
chill of recognition as the resuscitator mask was 
lifted off her face. A sudden memory flooded his 
mind's eye of a golden laughing smile and a baby 
gurgling happily on her mother's lap. 

"Oh, my g*d. I know this girl." Johnny blurted out 
to the others waiting for him to move.. 
"She's..............." 

-------------------------------------------

Photo:  A chemical victim being lowered to
           a tarp by Hazmat rescuers.

Photo:  Johnny and Roy by engine in full SCBA gear.

Photo:  Hazmat using foam and water curtains on a box
           car.

Photo:  A downed water tower in a construction parking lot.

Photo:  Masked firemen surrounding an asphixiated girl.

Photo: Johnny and Roy in masks in dusty gloom.

*********************************************************
From : "Champagne Scott" <chameleonkate@hotmail.com>  
Subject : Under the Shadow..  
Date : Sun, 07 Sep 2003 20:36:27 -0500  
   
 ...Drew's wife...! This is Kelsey...." he whispered 
in shock. 

"What?!"  Chet shouted through his mask.
"You'd better concentrate on finishing up
there, pal. Her clock's ticking down. My
last vent on her was fifteen seconds ago..
sixteen... seventeen..."

"Oh, ...right.  ... uh..Roy?" Johnny asked numbly
looking to share his horrifying news.
But his air masked partner was listening
to something being said over the HT by
Cap and he didn't hear Johnny speak.

Numb with reaction, on autopilot, 
Gage gel'd up the EOA and threaded it down 
the unconscious woman's throat. He nodded 
to Chet to give her a couple of shots then 
remembered belatedly that he couldn't use a 
stethoscope to verify his placement of the tube. 
::Gonna just haveta watch for distention..:: he 
thought. ::Ohmyg*d, :: his mind shouted in
his head ::This is Kelsey!::

Unbidden, came a memory of Drew, his
friend the police officer, lying shattered
on the margin of the freeway under
his hands, and the crackling hissing ghost
of a broken frequency coming from the 
biophone. Johnny shook his head. 
::That was two years ago. Knock it off, man!
Gotta concentrate. It's SHE who needs me 
now.::

The sweaty steam on Johnny's face mask 
covered his shocked expression and only
Chet noticed the slightest hesitation as
Gage shakily followed up his intubation
by reconnecting the demand valve to the EOA 
that he was holding stable in his glove 
from where it jutted from her teeth.

Chet's voice sounded as if from a distance
through the roaring in Johnny's ears.
"Giving her four. Johnny let me know how
it feels." Kelly said, thumbing his first breath 
into the woman's lungs carefully. "Her
color's still good." he said peeling back
her lips to view her gums.

"Ok, ready.." Johnny felt his lips say.
Gage placed  gloves over her chest
and abdomen trying to feel for telltale gurgling
under one and chest rise under the other.
He counted three more rises under his right
one as he monitored her. He found he 
couldn't find his voice to tell Chet things were 
fine.

Cap's voice came over the HT, echoing eerily 
around the fallen tower's spidery debris field and the
shouts coming from the hazmat team as they 
struggled to seal off the freon leaks they had located 
near the area where Johnny, Chet and Roy were
working on the girl.
 
##Engine 116, lay in from the hydrant on mile marker 
117 and hit  that rising gas vapor in a covering fan from 
the south. Engine  45, stage from the cleared part of the 
freeway and hit the box car from the west. Squad 45, do 
a primary search of the involved automobiles to the west  
of this location and make sure they've been evacuated. 

Truck 127. Set up to the east two hundred yards away
from the water tower. You’re gonna assist my men in attacking 
car fires in the area.## Hank crammed the HT back 
into his pocket, barely waiting for any acknowledgments. 

He looked up, spotting a masked and chem suited 
Marco waving at him. Hank turned toward his engineer, 
motioning vigorously. "Charge up a new line over Johnny 
Roy and Chet, Mike! They're working on a victim! 
Lopez? What's up?"

"Cap, I think I spotted the van that construction boss
told us about. It's directly under the water tower's drum
about sixty meters from here. Looks like things
are already settling around it."

"What?! There's no way a flimsy van'll 
keep its structural integrity under that much weight
pressing down onto it. Most of the water's
still inside of there.." Hank muttered. His
furlative in-command glance turned into one of
deep worry through his mask as he eyeballed
Chet and the two paramedics working to ventilate
the girl.  He shouted, realizing that a ton of
of help would be needed to emergency
evac everyone from the van Lopez had
found.  "Kelly.. Front and center. Gage can 
take over for you.. We're gonna need 
a lot more men to get those kids out of the van."

"Right, Cap.." Kelly rose and Gage took his
place. "It's all good first time, Johnny. They're
going in nice and smooth.." he said of
his quickened ventilations he was giving
the woman. "Here.. Take this. Cap wants me
for somethin.." Chet, in his chem suit and mask, 
readjusted the heavy weight of his air bottle 
under it, with a  groan. "I'll be right back...." he 
promised.

Johnny barely looked up at Chet as he
took over the demand valve. He didn't even
see the curly haired fireman leave to join
up with the others at Cap's side.

Roy just then noticed how quiet his partner had
become. "Johnny..?" He reached out a glove,
damp from Stoker's nearby spray, and grabbed 
the arm of Gage's jacket.

"What?" Johnny looked up at him.

"What's the problem..?" DeSoto shouted
through his mask.

"Let's get her into the stokes.
We can take her with us. She's breathing on
her own." he said, rising and leaving the
oxygen valve connected to Kelsey's airway.
"Bellingham can take over her care for us.
I see him by Kelly and the van."

Roy turned, from gathering up Kelsey's torso
and upper body into his arms craning over
his shoulder to see where Johnny was pointing.
"Ok,.. I got her shoulders.."

Gage grabbed her legs and they set her
awkwardly into the metal stokes a passing
fireman had left for them. Gasping, the two
paramedics lifted their burden and walked,
straight as they could, through tangles of steel 
towards Cap and the new focus of EMS personnel 
knotting under the shadow of the water tower's 
looming bulk.  He could just make out the sounds
of creaking metal as sinking tonnage slowly
crushed all the vehicles trapped under the drum.

Swiftly, Bellingham and Brice intercepted 
Johnny and Roy and they were suddenly relieved
of their burden. Kelsey was lifted from their
hands. "We got her.. Go..." Brice said as
he placed a hand on her chest to make
sure she was still breathing.

Gage spun around in a daze still not recovered
from knowing his victim and he watched them
start to head for the safety of the yellow zone. 

"Johnny?"  Roy asked, concerned. "Your air 
running out?"

Gage grabbed his valve regulator and checked.
"Nah,... I'm fine.. almost eight minutes left.
Don't worry about me, I'll tell you about it later..
Let's go.." He picked up a second resuscitator
from the ground and curled it under one arm.

Gage and DeSoto ducked, moving closer
towards the van, trying not to pay any attention
to the moaning stressed metal sounds filling
their ears.

Cap intercepted them. "We've got six victims.
All of them are pinned by debris except for
the driver. We're gonna haveta do some cutting." 

Right then, a high shriek of friction torn metal
stabbed through Cap's sentence and
deep into the bones of their skulls.

"Look out! The tower's giving way!" Kelly 
shouted.

Everyone under the shadow began to run
for the daylight.  Only Cap, Kelly and Lopez,
got out.

The water tower's huge bulk split like
an egg and a tongue of frothy flood water
began to gush out as it flattened
partially to the ground. Roy, Johnny and
one other, were swallowed whole under
the water filled dome.

Hank scrambled.. barely getting his
legs out in time from beneath the folding skin
of the tower and he was instantly soaked by
frigid water when he was too slow getting
out of the way. He hauled Kelly and Lopez
to their feet and Hank started a desperate
head count including himself. "1, ....2, .....3...."

He saw Bellingham and Brice slowly rising
and dripping, to their feet twenty feet away.. 
Their gloved hands were empty.

::Oh, no..:: Cap thought. "Where's the girl
in the stokes?"   ::4....5...::

Brice shook the stars from his head
and almost took off his air mask. His
partner stopped him before he could
complete the move and grabbed his shoulders,
looking at his face through his mask
when Craig remained silent and slightly 
off balance.

Bellingham's gasp said it all. "She must
be under there, Captain Stanley.. I don't 
see her.. Brice got hit in the head and
we dropped her."

Cap motioned Kelly and Marco to get
Brice out of the area... "And I don't
see two of my men.." he replied grimly.

"They're gone, too?" Bellingham blurted 
out, whirling.

Hank refused to acknowledge the fact
that Roy and Johnny could have just
been killed along with the woman.
"I want a team of men with K-12's and
axes over here immediately! There's
a chance the shell fell AROUND them."

"Under all that water?"  Chet shouted
in alarm.

Cap cut him off curtly. "Get Brice
to safety. Get him seen.Then hoof 
it back here with everything you've got.." 

"Right, Cap.."  Chet and Marco swept
up Brice into a seat held carry and moved.

Cap called out the same priority over his 
HT to the available companies. "Engine
51 to all units. We've trapped victims and
firefighters under the tower. I need a full
detail scrambled, wearing full protective
gear and air bottles. We're on the south
side of the tower's drum..."

Men began to run as the massive rescue
operation around him shifted shape and 
form to accomodate. HT activity tripled.

To Cap's horror.. the gushing water
around his legs lessened and began
to die off as the dome sealed itself 
tightly to the stained ground. ::Not
enough.. Not enough..:: his mind
screamed. ::There's still too much
water in there. They won't stand a 
chance if they're not awake enough
to tread water.::
 
The last agonizing screeching sounds
of collapse trickled away into eerie silence.

------------------------------------------------------

Photo : Cap in an air bottle.  

Photo:  Hazmat patient care.

Photo : Drew's wife with girl and Johnny.  

Photo : John with a dying police officer Drew.

Photo : Accident water tower down.

Photo : Johnny, Roy on ground fall.

Photo: Brice sets watch in squad.

Photo : Darkness under water.

********************************************
From :"Roxy Dee" <laterrapincabesa@hotmail.com>  
Subject :  ~~Red Pool~~  
Date : Fri, 26 Sep 2003 19:54:27 +0000  
 
Cap slipped and slid in the newly created ankle deep 
morass of mud and shards to start a hasty inspection of the 
water tower dome for any signs of large leaking 
breaches through which to target a rescue 
attempt. 

He didn't hesitate to rain the metal shell 
with sharp ringing blows.. "Roy! John! Can you 
hear me?! *gasp* Hang on.. We're gonna get you 
out of  there ASAP!! "  His head whipped around, 
first right then left, but no other fireman was as yet, 
near. 

He lifted his HT once again and ordered. "Move it everyone! 
I'm located on the south side, upwind! I'm twenty yards 
from the site of the second victim's initial location!" 

Cap's breaths whistled painfully inside his 
SCBA mask as he attempted to remain 
clear headed around a panicking heart which 
slammed wildly inside of his chest. 

He tossed the handy talkie aside when he heard 
multiple reply backs and didn't care that it skittered out of 
reach and into the muck at his feet. Numbly, his soaked 
gloves beat out another regular pattern to the taut 
hollow dome he hastily stretched out upon. He shouted 
once more to those trapped underneath.."DeSoto!? 
Gage?! If you're o.k., respond in any way you can..!" 

Cap first freed, then plastered an ear to the tower's 
skin after eyeballing the prevailing winds for 
safety. He no longer cared about  any 
possible contamination with the spilled freon. 
"My men come first." he sobbed aloud, with roiling 
raw emotions. The professional side of him countered 
that irrationality with instant support. 
::There was enough of a wash down from the dome's 
spillover to dilute the stuff nearest here.:: it said. 

Some small part of Hank Stanley still waited for the telltale 
burning of sub freezing temperatures to bite into his exposed 
wrists and neck, as subliming freon searched for a way to 
call him a liar. But only the hot sun was searing into anything 
he could still feel that wasn't completely wet. 

Hank's relief about not burning himself with any coolant 
exposure never materialized. A larger part of him was rapidly 
losing objectivity.  "Come on you two..Just one sign. 
Won't take much to grab a piece of scrap to wail an answer 
back.." he whispered, fogging up his face plate. "Come on.. 
start tapping!" 

Cap filled some time checking his air tank's regulator. 
"I've got nine minutes left.." Hank silenced his own adrenaline 
twitchy mouth and he held in a ragged breath as he 
willed his body to stillness as he listened. 

Seconds stretched into long moments as violated metal 
talked to itself and its mercilessly settling gravity net. 

Chink.. Ping.. Creakkkk  -kkk --kkk.  k          k..  *hisssss*.. 

Soon, waves of water lapped musically soft inside as 
the tower reached equilibrium at last in its new 
horizontal position. 


Cap's eye finally found the surface of the trapping 
pool through a ragged crack. It was staining with a 
growing red through the clear depths the sun illuminated. 

Nothing else clearly identifiable as actively struggling 
life, gurgled from the pocket of deep water that he could see 
to reward Cap's vigilance. 

Drip.. 

  Drip... 

    Drip.... 

Hank's eyes stung sharply.   "No..." 

----------------------------------------------------

Photo: Cap feeling a door tensely.

Photo: Stoker and Marco frantically hosing down
            a scene out of view.

Photo: *animated* Dripping blood drop.

Photo: An underground pool that's clear and reddish.

*************************************************
From: "Cory Anda" <andacory@hotmail.com>  
Subject : Full Circle  
Date : Sat, 27 Sep 2003 02:30:55 +0000  


GAASSPPPPPppp!!  *cough!*  choked Gage
as his head broke the surface of the water
inside the van. He had long ago peeled off
his air bottle in order to swim up towards what
meager light he could see.

"Roy!?" he shouted, treading water and
whirling in the frigid darkness. His hasty
shout echoed in his ears. He could hear
faint pounding from somewhere else but
that sound was the farthest thing from his
mind at that moment.

The van suddenly shifted as it began to float, its 
front end partially buoyant from its sudden 
unexpected immersion under water.  

An eerie golden light glowed through the 
shattered windshield of the van. ::So, there are
cracks out there..:: Johnny realized. ::The whole
d*mned tower must have come down in around
us..::  Gage shook away a lurid bone chilling cold
he suddenly felt seeping through his turnout gear.
::How the h*ll did I get in the van?::
His own sense of orientation drifted away.

A body floated up.
It was wearing bright blue clothes. 

"Roy?!" Johnny said in fright, remembering
suddenly who was still missing.

John pushed off the wall of the van to get to the
sodden form and he quickly flipped it over
to feel for a carotid. He immediately dropped
the young african american teenager with a shout
of horror.

Half of her features were crushed and so was
the top of her head. "Gaghhh..." Johnny blurted
out, back treading blindly. The young body of
the girl sank out of sight, leaving only a trail
of red behind.  "I'm not gonna make any
progress that way." his teeth chattered, and
he froze in place just to listen. The dim pounding
continued, but it wasn't vibrating through the chassis 
of the luckless van. "Outside help?" Johnny guessed.
"Maybe it's Cap...!"

He was just about to take a breath to reach a leg up
to kick out the windshield arching above him
when he saw a trail of bubbles coming from a shadow
near to the left side of him in the front seat. ::The
driver's still alive!::  he realized.

Gage's groping hands found a football jerseyed
young man's neck and head as he brought  
his mouth and nose to the surface of the water.
He was rewarded with sputtering gasps as
the teen quarterback blew out liquid in a spray
from his throat and lungs. "Easy.. I got you.."
Johnny encouraged, keeping the man from
sinking underneath the water again as 
he struggled to breathing wakefulness.

"I didn't mean it.. I didn't mean it.. *cough* They
made me do it..." the injured kid mumbled.

Johnny laid the teen's head against his shoulder
and immobilized his neck and forehead  
as best he could against his chest.. "Hey, take it 
easy now. No one's blaming you for anything. 
Especially not for a stupid joyride in the parking 
lot. An accident's an accident... What's your name?"

"B-Bobby..*cough*"

"Can you breathe ok the way you are?"

"What?"

Johnny Gage took that for a yes.
"Do you hurt anywhere besides that arm..?"
he said looking down. Gage saw a second
'elbow' bending below the young man's real one
on his left arm where it floated in the water.

"I'm hurt? Oh, my g*d.." and the dazed teenager
began to thrash around a bit inside Johnny's 
firm hold.

"Bobby.. Now just calm down!.. I'm feeling nothing
seriously wrong with you. Now my name's Johnny 
Gage and I'm a paramedic with the Los Angeles 
County Fire Department."

"I crashed the van?"

Johnny spat some of the boy's hair and 
muddy water from his mouth. "No.. not
exactly.. A semi truck hit a water tower
near you and then it fell on us. That's where
all this water comes in.."

"What?! Aghh.HHH! Where's Angie,..
Mark...?! They were all in here with me...
Steve!! Where are you??"

Gage's head was banged painfully
as the young man panicked as he arched
his back and he saw stars. He tightened 
his grip on the teen to keep him still.

Gage knew from the roof sloping into
the water that no one else was left alive
in the back of the van. "Listen to me!
Bobby, we'll worry about them later. Now 
I'm more concerned with getting you taken
care of first.  And to do that, we both have
to keep calm and cool about all this. We 
might need to conserve the air in here. Now
I want you to slow your breathing rate down
a bit. It's probably why you're feeling
so short of breath right now."

"Ugh.. I'll...t-try..."

"That's it.. Nice and easy. Now, does
your neck or back hurt anywhere? I'm
holding you like this just in case you do."

"Uhh,.. no. They're ok.. I'm not feeling
any p--Ahhh! What's wrong with my arm?"

"I'll be honest with you, Bobby. It's broken. "

"Oh, man.. Coach's gonna l-love this.
He'll kill me when he finds out I have
to miss the rest of the seas--   n"
he said slipping into shock.

"Bobby? Stay awake. Keep your head up.
Let me tie this board here onto your arm.
We need to splint this before we go
anywhere." Gage used a seatbelt that he cut
away from the van's wall using his holster's 
bowie knife. "I gotta get you into some dry 
clothes and I also gotta find my partner 
and another girl who was with us.."

"S-Someone else? Who...who is she?" Bobby 
struggled. "Please.. I gotta know about my friends."
Returning pain to his fractured arm silenced
the young quarterback and he froze into stillness
with a strangled cry. "I feel like I'm gonna puke."

"Easy. Moving around will only make you more
nauseated. Her name's Kelsey, and she's doing 
fine."

"Where is she? I- I don't see her!!" Bobby
said, gasping, falling limp, now only half awake.

Johnny felt the change in the boy's posture
and heard it in his voice.  "Bobby? Stay
with me.."

At the same time, a flicker of sunlight and shadow 
made him look up through the windshield of the van
into the sparkling underwater light reflecting there.

Peering through the raining water trails seeping 
through the spidered glass, he could just make 
out Roy's legs and shoes kicking at a second 
water surface six feet above the van with the 
comforting shape of Kelsey's metal stokes in his 
arms. Gage could see the green bottle of the 
resuscitator still nestled in between her legs.
::He's still got the O2 for her.. Good.:: Johnny
sighed in relief. ::I swear, Roy. You got more
lives than a cat.:: he grinned. Out loud he said.
"Kelsey's really fine, Bobby. She's with my 
partner. Out there. Right now."

He didn't get any reply. ::Bobby?:: Johnny
thought to himself. His fingers found the slow
thud of a carotid at the big teen's neck and
the injured teen's ribcage still rose and fell inside the 
bearhug Gage had around the young man.
"So that's where we're going, too." he said quietly
to the unconscious boy. Gage waited for
the young man to take in a shallow breath of air 
before he blocked off the man's nose and mouth 
for the trip out of the van. 

Two kicks later, they were free, popping up
beside Roy in a flood of bubbles as the rest
of the vehicle's trapped air escaped with them.

------------------------------------------------------------

DeSoto didn't even bat an eye..
"Here's Johnny, Cap. Looks like he's got a victim
out."

"Johnny? You all right, pal?" an overjoyed Hank's
voice echoed into the hollow chamber, even through 
his air mask.

"Yeah, Cap. Just hurry it up. Neither of these guys
can wait without treatment much longer." Gage
coughed as the outside air's freon fumes began
to get to him. 

"Here.. " Roy said, disconnecting the O2 tubing
from Kelsey's EOA. "Give him some and then
take a breath of your own. We've been sharing.."

"She still breathing?"

"Yeah, she's just out, that's all. I still can't find
any injuries."

Gage improvised a seal using the positive
pressure valve's mouth port and the teen boy's
under a firm grip where he treaded in the water.
He delivered two breaths in time with Bobby's
inhalations. The teen started to moan as
he awoke, partially revived.

Johnny took his own turn on the oxygen valve.
"Cap, we could use three new air bottles down
here!"

"We're cutting a hole through to you now.
Watch for Stoker's rope. Only expect another
demand valve unit to buddy breathe on. It's smaller. 
This one's got a mask." Cap shouted. "Two minutes
more."

Right then, the hiss of O2 that Roy tried to deliver to
Kelsey's airway secured lungs, faded away. 

Their critical lifeline, had just run out.

Gage quipped. "How long can you hold your
breath, Roy?" he asked seriously.  

"As long as necessary. If we black out in
here, we'll all die of drowning. Here, I've cut away
the stoke's straps, all but the one holding her
shoulders. Use them to tie you and him to
those metal struts here. If we do fall unconscious,
at least our heads won't go under. I've already rigged 
hers and mine as well as I can." Roy said, his suggestion 
breaking off into a paroxysm of choking coughs as 
freon mist began to invade the flooded tower's 
air chamber.

Right away, Johnny could hear Roy's prior left lung
trouble flaring up in complaint liquidly.

"Great, poison air for your barely healed 
water lung." Johnny said sarcastically.  "Breathe
more shallowly, Roy. You're getting off color already."

"*Wheeze* T-That's from the cold.." DeSoto shivered,
wedging Kelsey's stokes more firmly onto the angle
of sheeting he had found to support her weight against
the tower wall. "I- I'm fine.. " DeSoto choked. 
"Worry about your own complexion instead, ok?"

Gage ignored him. "Cap. We need that spare
O2 on the double! Roy's getting into trouble here."

Gage startled as his partner's head sagged suddenly 
and Johnny lunged to catch it as DeSoto half passed out,
falling lax into his improvised strap harness tied
to the tower wall. "Oh no you don't.." Johnny said.
"Snap out of it, Roy. You're ok.. Now come on.. 
It's not that stuffy in here." he said, slapping 
Roy's damp face lightly to rouse him.
"The freon's hardly noticable yet.."

*Cough* DeSoto reacted weakly. "I...I..."

"What, Roy? You what? Come on. Don't black
out on me. I need ya conscious. I can't watch
both of these guys on my own." Gage urged tensely. A 
suffocation jag of gas drifted down, and gave him his 
own uncomfortable moments of feeling like
he was getting no air at all into his lungs.
"Cap....!" he shouted hoarsely when he had recovered.

"One minute Gage!" Hank promised.

"That's a minute too late, guys. Roy's just went out on me
here.." Johnny shouted, tipping Roy's head back to make 
sure his breathing continued unimpaired. "This sh*t's 
*gasp* awful. We can't breathe it in for much longer." 
Gage coughed.

Bobby began to turn blue when he quit trying to breathe
fifteen seconds later.

Johnny gave him a breath of air mouth to mouth 
and a second one before the teen sucked in some 
of his own again unaided.

The world began to swim before Gage's eyes.

----------------------------------------------

"Gage.. Grab it!.. Stoker's lowering the tank on
a line to ya and the rest of us are K-twelving a side
hatch to drain you guys out with the water.." Cap
said urgently.

In a stuporous haze, Johnny saw the second 
resuscitator, tied in a rope hitch, swaying in front
of him. But it was as if his arms refused to work.

"Johnny. Grab it and use it on yourself first.."
Hank's voice shouted through Johnny's ringing ears.
"I can't reach you so you gotta do it on your own.
Then get to them!  Gage! Do you hear me? Take
a shot from the O2 now. That's an order!"

Some deep instinct made the thousands  
of Johnny's firefighter and paramedic training hours 
kick in. He reached for the resuscitator mask 
dangling in front of him and took one. 
ChuugghhhhhHHH!

Instantly clarity flooded back.  Johnny blinked
up into the sun. "Cap?"

"Get to Bobby. He's cyanotic, Gage." 
Hank commanded from the sunlit crack above Gage.

Gage swam over to the limp boy and worked him
on the mask until the teen began to actively cough and 
moan once more. Kelsey only need a boost, she
had never quit breathing.

Johnny sucked in two fresh breaths for himself
as he swam back the short distance over to Roy
and set the dripping mask over his face. "Nap time's
over, Pal. Wake up.." And he thumbed several
shots of oxygen into Roy's lungs.

DeSoto immediately reawakened and shoved
the mask away, thrashing his limbs in the water 
as consciousness rapidly returned to him.

Johnny ducked. "Hey, watch what you're doing..!
I'm right here. You're fine now. Here.. Do this yourself
then.. Cap's gonna let us know when they're gonna
blow the hatch real soon.."

"T-The victims?" Roy shook his head to clear
out fogginess.

"They're fine. Keep sharing the wealth.
I'm next after Bobby and Kelsey.." Johnny said
twitching shivery gimme fingers at his partner
and the mask to get him to pass it around fairly.

Roy was clear headed enough to realize
an odd thing in that second voiced name. "Kelsey?
Johnny, how did you find out our female victim's 
name? She didn't have any ID on her and
she's never been awake enough to tell us."

"Imagine that.." Johnny deflected. "How's
your breathing now?"

"Fine if I'm talking to you. Don't evade the issue.
Why am I getting chills from the sound of your
voice right now? What aren't you telling me?"
DeSoto demanded.

Johnny took his turn off the spare O2 
and fell uncharacteristically silent while he
monitored both the girl and the teen's pulses
in turn. For two passes of the O2, Gage didn't 
say anything. Then he asked one simple
question.  "Do you remember my best friend 
Drew the highway patrol officer?"

Roy's face paled from more than the cold. There
wasn't any way he could not remember that
man's death and the radio transmission that failed
to arrive from Rampart with life saving treatment.

DeSoto simply met Johnny's eyes and nodded
as his fingers reassessed the placement of the
airway resting in Kelsey's throat and felt for
the distension growing in her stomach. It wasn't
bad enough to effect his ventilations on her.

Johnny's face grew old as he unloaded his emotional
burden to his partner. Johnny's worry lines only became
worse for the telling. "Well, this is Drew's wife, Roy, 
lying right here. And I don't know where her five year 
old daughter is. I hope to G*d she isn't in that crushed 
van down there. Cause if she is, she's dead."

------------------------------------------------------------------------

Photo:  Cap peers into a crack beneath his feet.

Photo:  Johnny looking down, thoroughly soaked.

Photo:  Roy and John treading water with a victim
             in a stokes.

Photo:  Drew's wife Kelsey and their little girl with Gage
              kneeling and offering them comfort.

Photo:   Roy peering into bright light soaked to
              the skin with water.

****************************************************************
From : "rosafleehart" <rosafleehart@yahoo.com> 
Subject :  [EmergencyTheaterLive] The Promise.. 
Date : Mon, 29 Sep 2003 17:23:57 -0000 

Roy said. "Why didn't you tell me before when you 
first knew it  was her?" 

"I thought I could handle it, Roy, ok?" Johnny replied. 

"Junior, sometimes..... I just  wish you would let me in on 
things more." he said uncharacteristically defensive. 

Gage countered, without thinking. "Look. I'm sorry, Roy, ok?" 

Suddenly, Roy started to have a little trouble breathing and 
then Johnny knew something was wrong. "Hey you ok, Pally?" 
he asked, grabbing a hold of his jacket sleeve to get his 
attention. 

Roy coughed. "I'll be fine.  Must have swallowed the water 
when the tank fell. " he replied. "Right now we've got 
other things to be concerned with. How's the boy?" 

Johnny answered. "He's holding his own right now. " 

Roy tried hiding the fact, from Johnny, that his breathing 
was starting to get worse. :: I don't want to add a further 
burden to my partner's already high stress level.:: he 
thought to himself. So he tried to handle it. ::I know 
there isn't  much that can be done until we're top 
side anyway.:: He just hoped it would wait before 
getting any worse. 

--------------------------------------------------------------- 
After nearly two hours, the rescuers finally broke 
through to them. 

The girl, Kelsey,  was handed out first and a second 
paramedic crew took her over. 

Then the boy, Bobby, was handed out and another 
medic team took over his care while the rescuers got 
Roy and Johnny out of the collapsed tank. 

Just as Johnny was hoisted up, Roy got real 
bad. Quickly.  ::I can't breathe! Hardly at all now.:: 
DeSoto panicked. 

Just as Johnny looked down, Roy lost consciousness 
and started to sink into the contaminated water. 

Johnny let go of the rescuers' rope and dove in after 
his partner.  He grabbed him by the shirt collar and 
pulled him to the surface as quickly as possible. 

They pulled him out. 
Then Johnny was, too, right behind him. 

The other medics were busy so Johnny had to treat his 
partner on his own. 

Roy was out cold and not breathing and that made Johnny go 
into instant paramedic mode. He quickly got in an intubation 
on 6 liters of 02 which got Roy breathing again. Then he 
got in an I.V. with Ringers using the open treatment privileges 
that had been given to them from the beginning by Brackett. 

He took vitals and saw that Roy was doing better. 
Johnny contacted base and Brackett took it. 
"Rescue 51 to base. How do you read?" 

Kel replied, "I read you loud and clear, 51. Go 
ahead with your transmission." 

"We have a 34 year old male. He lost consciousness 
while trapped in a collapsed water tower. He stopped 
breathing. He has been intubated and is NOW breathing. 
We have him on an I.V. with Ringers wide open. He is still 
unconscious. Vitals are:  B.P. 100/85, pulse is thready. 
Respirations are 30 and his lungs are congested. Also 
he has had some prior congestion due to water lung. " 
Gage said over the biophone. 

"51, keep him intubated. Administer 30 milligrams of 
Talwin and transport a.s.a.p." Brackett ordered. 

Johnny answered. "Ten four.  Talwin. 30 milligrams and 
transport as soon as possible. We are ten minutes 
from your location. Also be advised, we have a hazmat 
situation in effect. "

"Ten four and in transit, get me a new set of vitals." 
Brackett said. "We'll take precautions here for you and 
your patient." 

Gage nodded. "Ten four. 51 out." 

Gage looked to Cap. "Cap, we need an ambulance in 
here now. " 

"You got it, Johnny. " Hank answered and announced 
over the radio. "Battalion 14, This is HT 51. We need an 
ambulance by me. We have a code I ready for emergency 
transport." 

"Ten four, HT 51. Ambulance is on the way in to you now. " 

"Ten four." 

Johnny looked up. "Cap, I'm going in with Roy. " 
he said, not beating around the bush, challenging. 

To Gage's relief, Hank didn't bat an eye. 
"O.K., I'll see that the squad gets to the hospital." 

"Thanks." Gage replied. 

They loaded Roy up and Johnny got in with him. 

Gage was in both partner and medic mode. He got a 
new set of vitals and relayed them to Rampart using his 
radio.  "Rampart, this is squad 51." 

"Go ahead, 51. " Kel acknowledged, toggling 
a switch. 

Johnny shouted over the roaring sirens. 
"New vitals are :  B.P. is 90/65. His pulse 
continues to be thready and weak. 
Breathing's at 26." 

Kel frowned. "51, what is your ETA?" 

Johnny answered. "We are three minutes out." 

Dr. Brackett nodded. "Send me a strip." 

"Ten four. This will be lead two." Johnny said quickly. 

At the same moment, both Brackett and Johnny saw 
the same thing. Johnny reacted as a medic. He told the 
ambulance to pull over just as Brackett yelled over the 
radio. "51! We read V-fib. Defibrillate 400 watt 
seconds now!" 

"Ten four." Johnny defibrillated Roy the first time. 

There was no change. 

On the second, still no change. 

Johnny said as he went for a third time."Come on, Pally. 
Don't do this to me. Come on." he gasped.  "D*mn it, Roy." 

Finally Roy converted to sinus rhythm and his heart beat 
normally again. Johnny reported on the radio. "Converted! 
Times three. He's in sinus rhythm." he sighed. 

"Ten four, 51 bring him on in." Kel grinned. 

"Ten four, " Johnny answered. "OK. Let's go." 
Gage said to the ambulance driver by smacking 
the partition between them. 

------------ 

As the ambulance arrived, Brackett and Dixie met it 
at the doors. They were shocked. They didn't know it 
was Roy down.  The tension was over. 

But then Johnny hit the floor suddenly in a blackout. 

"I'll take Johnny..." Joe Early said quickly kneeling 
beside Gage to check  his pulse. 

"And I'll take Roy..." Brackett replied, grabbing hold 
of the blond paramedic's gurney with two orderlies. 

Soon, they were both put into treatment rooms. 

------------------------------------------------------------- 
After a few days, Johnny was released and he 
went to Roy's bedside. He hadn't regained 
consciousness  yet. 

::It's been six days.:: Gage thought morosely. 
Johnny was worried. 

He said to Roy."O.K., Roy. It's time to wake up. 
Now everyone is worried about  you, Pally. So 
come on." he said urgently. "Wake up for 
old Johnny, huh, Pally?" 

All through that night,  Johnny stayed at Roy's side, 
refusing to leave. 

Joanne had gone home to rest at Johnny's insistence. 

As the day broke,  Johnny got up to stretch. 
He had been holding Roy's hand all night long. ::And I've 
been doing a lot of praying.:: he thought aloud, for his friend. 

He turned suddenly when he heard a whisper of a voice say. 
"You look terrible, Junior." 

Johnny leaned eagerly over Roy as he rang the room call 
button. "Hey, Pally.  How are you feeling?" 

Roy grinned slowly. "Weak. Tired." 

Gage smiled quietly, "Yeah, I'd say so.  You gave us a 
h*ll of a scare there, buddy." 

Roy studied his sheets. "Sorry." 

"Welllll....." Johnny teased. "That's ok. Just 
don't let it happen again, ok?" 

Roy was checked and it was found that he truly 
WAS going to be o.k. 

DeSoto finally talked Johnny into going home and 
getting some rest. 

Roy was released three weeks later from the hospital. 

-------------------------------------------------------------------- 
A month later, he was cleared to return to duty. 

Johnny had put a welcome back party together and they 
were all enjoying it, when the tones went off . 

As they climbed into the squad,  Johnny said. "Nice to 
have you back, Pally." 

"It's nice to BE back,  Junior." 

Johnny had missed that nick name over the time Roy 
had been gone. "Roy, I  hope I never see you come that 
close to being lost again." he insisted. But just 
as fast, he put on a wry grin. "But then again, I most 
probably will 'cause that's the job we both have." 
he added with exasperation. 

Roy agreed, nodding, as he drove. 
"We HAVE devoted our lives to saving others as 
ff/pm's." he said in apology. 
------------------------------------------------------------------ 

No Photos attached. 

************************************** 
From :"patti keiper" <pattik1@hotmail.com>  
Subject : Second Thoughts..  
Date :  Wed, 01 Oct 2003 12:08:05 +0000  
   
Gage made a face as he peered at
the address on the scrap of paper
he had gotten from Cap as they had
taken off on their run. "Yeah,.. but
that doesn't mean I have to like the
fact that the people around me are
continually at risk all the time.." he
said with some real heat.

That surprised DeSoto and he glanced
at Gage's face to be sure he saw the
sharp anger mirroring there that had tinged
Johnny voice.  Roy bit down the joke
that he had rising and stifled a smile.
"You know we have a pact not to die
in front of one another if we can possibly
help it. Last month didn't count. The tower 
cheated when it gave no warning before 
dunking us into that chemical bath. 
Man, that hurt. My p*ss's still glowing
at night." he complained. 

Roy's planned crudeness worked.

It was Johnny's turn to glance over
and a shadow of a crooked grin toyed with 
his face, but only for a moment. He didn't
feel like explaining his real feelings on
the discussion and once again, a 
vulnerability that was newly born in his
eyes, stilled his lips into silence.

Roy concentrated half on the road, the 
rest on Johnny. "Hey,....
We can talk about it you know.."
he offered in a quick toothy smile.
"If we don't, Cap's bound to throw
us all into a session with the 
CISM counselors. Don't be upset
that you can't be there all the time 
to save the day like you'd rather do."

Johnny flared. "I don't need any critical
incident stress management lackies crawling
around my head! I'd rather have had it
not to have happened at ALL." he snarled 
once again. And the roaring siren over
their ears seemed to agree with him
pointedly.

The ghost of a grin on Roy seeped away
and he didn't say much of anything for
a full minute, only watching the directions
Johnny quietly indicated to him, showing them the
way to their current rescue's location. But then
DeSoto said. "Look at the bright side. I may
be a lot poorer financially now for missing
out on so much work but I've gotten in some
real quality time with Joanne and the kids.
Our third's really coming along. I felt
the baby kick real hard last night..."

That was the wrong thing to say. Gage
nearly levitated out of his seat and he
angrily adjusted his loose helmet strap a
little more snuggly under his chin. "Good.
I'm happy for you.. Your family's safe and
sound and everything's looking real nice 
and rosy for ya.." he said, saluting smartly
in sarcasm.

Roy's mouth slacked open and he
gripped the steering wheel a little tighter
even as his jaw slid sideways in puzzlement.
"Johnny, what's the matter? Wh- What's going
on with you? I don't think I've ever seen you
with so many ants in your pants before.."

Johnny huffed and thunked an elbow out the
squad's windy window to serve as a prop for 
his scowling face.

Roy then figured it out.. "It's Kelsey Richards.
Isn't it..?" The name elicted a bright spot of pain  
that Roy saw lance sharply across Johnny's 
features. ::Bingo...::

"What about her?" Johnny asked defensively.

Roy stuck out a pouting frown. "Well,..how's
she doing? I heard she got home from the hospital
ahead of me by five d--"

"She's fine.."  Gage interrupted. "Kelsey's just fine.
Somehow, she took no heart or lung damage from 
the freon like you had happen to you. She's home
and everything's good and she calls me every night
to help her get over the fact that her kid Amber didn't 
make it like she d--" his voice broke off, getting 
uncharacteristically choked up and muffled.

Now Roy understood everything plainly. "You're
hung up really bad about this, aren't you?" he said 
softly. "I had almost forgotten about what you told
me that day. About the five year old fatality you thought
was in the van..  Was she?"

Johnny shook his head minutely in the negative. 
"Kelsey's daughter died outside the tower. Another 
company found her under the pile of freon tanks. Remember 
the ones we heard hissing when we first got that dizzy 
construction worker out?"

DeSoto nodded and Johnny rubbed his face.

"Then there wasn't anything you could've done to
have prevented that now, could you?" Roy doctored.

Gage sighed and a tear ran a trail down the side
of cheek that Roy couldn't see even as his
face ironed up. "It wasn't my best friend's daughter
that's been in my every waking thought since I found
out that you were gonna make it." he said his tone
trembling slightly as his anger evaporated into grief.
"There was someone else down there that I should
have known on the spot.  A victim whom I 
should have tried a little harder to save.."

Roy turned another corner his partner pointed out
to him and the tires of the squad squealed. "I
don't understand, Johnny. Explain it to me.
You told me weeks ago that those teens didn't have 
a chance except for Bobby the driver because 
the roof had caved in and pushed them all under
the water."

Johnny's lips flattened into a thin line..
"I know. I know.. Look, would you stop prying
and let me just think a minute here!" he
snapped. "I got a lot to tell you so just---"

Just like that,..Johnny returned to a horrific 
memory that had been relayed to him by Stoker
the same day he had awakened in the  
shared hospital room with Roy at Rampart.

Johnny still remembered how chilled he
felt under the blankets when he heard.....

-----------------------------------------------------------

 ......"You should have seen him, Johnny. He left
the hospital on one of the ambulances to get
to the scene the moment his instincts screamed
at him. He knew, Johnny.. He knew beyond the 
shadow of a doubt that she had been there in 
the van.."..

The hospital gowned Gage tried to steady the
ice glass and straw that Mike Stoker had been
helping him sip without drinking from it. "What
the h*ll are you talking about, Mike? Who
knew whom in the van?  My friend Drew's dead.
And there was no one else around who knew Kelsey
and her little girl, Amber, enough to worry about 
them."

"It's Doctor Morton, Gage. We found him crying
over his sister's stokes after he had found her  
black tagged in the triage morgue tent along
with the other teens who died in the van with
her."

Johnny dropped his water glass...

------------------------------------------------------------

"Oh my G*d. I'm s- sorry, Johnny.. I- I didn't know.."
DeSoto said as he sped the final few blocks
towards their destination. "I saw all
the blood in the water with us.. But I didn't
know you had found someone else in that
van besides Bobby who was still salvagable.."

Gage made a little noise of pain.
" I guessed I freaked out Roy.. She WAS 
there. Right there in my arms.. And I just dropped her 
when I saw her facial and cranial injuries without
even checking to see if she was still alive..."

"You were in shock, Johnny. We both were.
A tower had just fallen on you and freon gas
was doing its best to suffocate us all, too."

"We're talking about not trying harder with
Morton's SISTER,  Roy..." Johnny insisted in high 
agony. "I'm negligent! I'm most likely gonna be one
of the clear ones to blame for leaving her to die 
down there..."

"You don't know that." Roy said equally
loud as he drove. "You know what they
tell us whenever we find a victim with obvious
gray brain matter showing."

"You don't have to tell me.." Johnny said
sharply.

"Well, I'm going to. In that medical situation,
it's to be taken as an obvious sign of death 
from the classic signs list right along side 
rigor mortis and dependent lividity.."

"Roy, I could have done something MORE.
I could have started breathing for her..."

"With crushing mouth and nose injuries?
How?" Roy challenged. 

"Well..."

"Even if you managed to get air into
her lungs. There was no way you EVER
could have started c.p.r effectively enough. 
You were treading water.."

"Stop it!" Gage said. "Just shut up Roy.
You don't know what you're talking about.."

"Oh  yes I do. I'm the one who taught you
everything you know as a paramedic,
remember?" DeSoto insisted, clenching
his hands on the wheel he said glaring
at his despondent partner.

"Look out!!" Gage shouted.

Roy barely swerved in time to avoid getting
hit by a motorist who hadn't heard their
sirens at a four way stop sign.

DeSoto thunked over the curb onto grass 
and their front tire ripped over a support stake 
at  the foot of a corner telephone wire.
It immediately blew out and halted the squad
cold, throwing both paramedics foward, hard.

Roy and Johnny caught themselves on the 
dashboard as best as they could.

"You ok?" DeSoto gasped.

"Yeah, I was just about to ask you the same thing.."
Johnny admitted, still gripping window frame
and roof strut.

Both men started to shake with reaction
from their near miss and a minute later,
it took both of them to steady the radio 
mic as Roy thumbed it and said, "L.A. This 
is squad 51."

##Go ahead, 51.##

"L.A. We've been disabled mechanically
avoiding a vehicular collision. We'll be
unable to respond to our current rescue call.
We are uninjured." he added quickly to
keep Cap and the rest of the gang possibly
listening on the office scanner, reassured.

##10 - 4, 51. Do you need roadside assistance?##

"Negative. My partner and I can handle it."

##Copy....Squad 51, cancelled.  
*Beep. beep. beep.*
 Squad 8, in place of Squad 51. Possible
heart attack. 309 Hunter's Place and Jackson
Blvd..  309 Hunter's...##

Roy and Johnny tuned out the rest of the
radio transmission as they both slid out
of the squad to sit on their truck's back
landing board to steady their nerves
and bodies while they took off their helmets.

Johnny was trembling violently. "I can't
take any more surprises today, Roy. 
Even ones as fun as your welcome back
party. My nerves are more than shot."

"I noticed.." Roy said without smiling.

Johnny buried his head into his hands
and wiped away the salty wetness
streaming there from his eyes and just
rested for a few moments.

Roy watched his face in steady concern.
"Wanna eat something? Your blood sugar's
gotta be low. I know mine is after that."

"Yeah, I'll eat. But where? I don't know
this neighbor beyond what I saw on
the wall map to get to where we had
to go for this call." Gage admitted.

"How about the cafeteria at Rampart..?"

Johnny startled and stopped rubbing his
face. "Uh.h,...Dixie said Morton's working today 
and I don't think I wanna run into HIM just yet.
I was only lucky that I never saw him all those
times Joanne and I came to see you when 
you were still in your chemically induced 
coma."

"We gotta go there to resupply sometime.
Most likely as soon as after our next call." Roy said
getting up to check the condition of the squad
beyond its shredded tire.

"I know.. I know. But I still have a lot of thinking
to do.."

"Do you?" Roy asked seriously. "I just told you
how it was for Morton's sister.  And you. Don't
you trust my judgement that there wasn't
really anything that you could've done for her?"

"I trust ya. I trust ya.. I just don't know if I can trust
myself anymore." Johnny said gloomily, tossing
both his helmet and Roy's into the passenger seat
while he broke out the squad's jack, wrench and 
spare tire from inside the stokes department.
"Cause I can't really keep the promises I make.
I promised Drew that I'd look after his
wife and little girl and I didn't."

"That's a lie.. You kept Kelsey alive."

"No, YOU did. I had my hands full with
Bobby and...." he rubbed his mouth with
guilt. "...and with you.."

"I was dyspneic due to fumes. Kelsey
was already safely airway secured. You had
a right to worry about me first. I was your
paramedic priority then, only one behind Bobby."

"No you weren't. She was unconscious."

"So was I ...later on. Quit hashing semantics. 
Don't deny how things happened because I 
know how they went .Cap told me everything 
when he came to visit me at Rampart."

That shut Johnny up and Roy saw a wrinkle on
Gage's forehead ease.  But Johnny's eyes stayed 
gray and suddenly full with conviction.
"I'll let you know this, Roy. I promise that I'm never
gonna let you or anyone else I know down ever 
again if I can help it."

"That's the spirit. A promise is good for the soul.."

"That's only if a promise can be kept, Roy." Johnny 
countered. "It's its own double edged sword sometimes."

"Like you learned with Kelsey and Amber?" DeSoto
said gently.

Johnny stopped hauling away on the tire lugs where
he knelt in the grass. "Yeah.." he said bitterly. "Like
that.."

"Well, you made no such promise to Dr. Morton,
my friend. So stop blaming yourself for something
you couldn't have changed." DeSoto interjected
quickly. "It was somebody else who brought
that tower down and caused the accident. Not
you. You were just a victim that time."

"It's never good for a paramedic to be a victim."
Johnny said tightly.

"Exactly right. So just be a paramedic and everything
will turn out right if it's in your power, like it always
does."

"Like it used to do.."

"Like it STILL does, partner.." he firmly glared.
"I'll let you know if you ever lose your edge. Remember, 
Brackett says you're one of the best." he chuckled. 
"And I'm keen on protecting that reputation because it 
reflects well on me. Next month's review and raise is depending 
on that. I'm also doing it because I've a lot of ground to 
catch up on with my bills and my FAMILY's bills.." he groaned.
"So I'm gonna guarantee that fatter paycheck any way
I can."

Instead of laughing, Gage frowned.
"Yeah? Well what about my reputation in the eyes
of Dr. Morton? I'd say I'm just about shot as a medic
if he decides to blame his sister's death on me
in front of the paramedic's review board."

DeSoto stayed silent, not knowing what to say.

But then, a few minutes later, as the morning 
warmth dried the sweat off their faces, DeSoto 
spoke up. "We'll cross that bridge when we come to it.
I'm sure that Brice, as head chair, would review
any case he overhears fairly in concern with
recertifying you if Morton should want an investigation
done examining the actions you took that day.
Craig is a walking rule book you know."

"And I'm a walking jobless man if I get a suit 
filed against me. How can I keep my personal 
promises then if I can't be a paramedic anymore?"

"Trust in your promises, Johnny. They're all
you've got. " he said seriously. Then he laughed,
adding. "Then trust your friends to know you 
better than you do. They'll never tell you any lies
about how you really are."

Johnny finally harrumphed in his throat with
a slight smile which admitted that he gave
Roy a point for being right on that.

"Come on. This tire's all set. Let's get
some food. Dixie says the tuna fish casserole's
incredible. I'll vouch for it. I sure ate enough of
it during my hospital stay.."
----------------------------------------------------------

Photo :  Brackett,  Morton and Joe treating a woman
              in treatment 3. 

Photo :  The squad in a near collision.

Photo :  Johnny view of squad day drive.

Photo :  Firefighters, police and a body bag. 

*************************************************
From : "Katherine Bird" <kathbird@hotmail.com>  
Subject : Indigestion..  
Date : Thu, 02 Oct 2003 05:06:55 +0100  

Roy had just paid for his lunch of pasta
when Johnny crashed into the back of
his partner with his own tray full of the
same thing. Gage had to go through heroics
in order to keep from spilling his milk
and keeping his cherry jello from jiggling
out of its pudding dish.

"Would you just cut that out already.."
DeSoto complained. His tray had been
uneffected by the impact since he was the bigger
man in mass of the two and had absorbed all
of it without ill effect.

"What?"

"Quit slinking around here as if you expect
a firing squad to pop outta nowhere."

"I'm not slinking around.. I'm ..I'm..just keeping
an eye out, that's all."

"Don't tell me, you don't want to run into Mike
Morton.." he pegged in irritation in a half whisper
so the surrounding hospital staff wouldn't overhear.
He offered peace by pulling out a chair
at a nearby table for Johnny first before grabbing
and reversing another one for himself.
"I thought we had settled all that."

"...Not directly...no. Look, Roy, I mean, he's bound 
to show up looking for me sometime.."

"How do you know? You haven't yet even talked
to the man."

Gage began to gesture pointedly. "Can't
we just ...sit over there?" he pleaded half
heartedly.

"Where?" Roy said, irritated at the idea of
moving again when his stomach was complaining
so loudly. 

Johnny pointed again and Roy looked over
his shoulder to the table his partner wanted.

Roy frowned. "There's no sun over there.
You wouldn't be able to see your plate well
enough to eat from it if we ate over there. I'm
fine right here. You can move if you like. Today,
I'm gonna be part chameleon and soak up
the daylight. Let's just say that tower's rubbed off
a little too much on me. I suddenly find I
really like open spaces." and he began to shovel
it in as only a hungry fireman could.

"Roy, would you jus--" And Gage broke off when he
saw Dixie and Brice headed their way. "Oh, no..
He's bad enough.." But rather than looking like he
was retreating, Johnny sat down next to Roy
and nervously positioned his arms and posture
to look like he wasn't nervous.. He failed miserably
and Dixie McCall caught on right away.

"Oh, come on, Johnny. It's not that bad." Dixie grinned.
"Mike won't bite your head off. I've been working on him these 
last few weeks sharing with him just what you had to go 
through during the incident where Angie Morton was killed.
I even showed him your medical chart showing how low your
PO2 levels were because of those freon fumes." she
grinned.

"Dixie!" Gage said in mortification at that breach of confidentiality.
Johnny made a hushing face, but Brice seemed to be oblivious.

Craig just offered Dixie a third chair at Johnny and Roy's
table before he took the last one and began arranging
his tray and silverware just so on the china blue
formica table top. He even passed over the salt to the
head ER nurse so she could season her salad.

Johnny was beginning to relax about Dixie's
meddling admission when Craig Brice spouted off
in surprise instant support. "No paramedic could have been 
expected to keep a clear head dealing with any rapid life or
death decision making processes with the marked
hypoxia you had during that crisis. I'll stand by what I 
read.." he said matter of factly.

Johnny nearly choked on his tuna. "What is
this? Why is my medical chart suddenly everyone's
common property around here." he whined, 
unconvincingly angry. "I thought there were rules
to protect my privacy that way.."

Dixie held out a hand apologetically to Johnny
and set a warm grip on his forearm. "I'm
sorry, Johnny. But Dr. Brackett felt that that was
the best way to defuse Mike from taking a legal
course of action against you by spreading 
around just what you had to work with. "

The color drained from Gage's face. "He's
been doing  what?"

 "Nothing official, Gage.." Brice said. "So far, it
was just a meeting with Dr. Brackett, Morton and
myself concerning competency.."

Johnny threw down his fork with a clatter and
jumped from his seat. "That's it! I'm going to 
go talk ta Morton right now. This is really getting
insane..."

"Wait a minute, Junior, where do you think you're 
going?" Roy asked.
"Gage, hold on a short moment, before you take
  an action that you'll regret in the future." Brice
suggested blandly.
"Johnny.. pipe down everyone's gonna stare."
Dixie hissed. They all said simultaneously.

It took all three of them to pull the distraught 
young paramedic back into his cafeteria seat. 

"Shut up and eat." DeSoto said with finality,
handing Johnny back his fork and pulling away
the HT so Johnny couldn't leave.

"Don't think I can. I just lost my appetite."
Johnny mumbled. He toyed with the food on
his plate, pushing it around while watching the
steamy curls from his lunch waft away in the 
breezy sunlight.

"Why don't you trust Dr. Brackett to manage
Doctor Morton about all this? You're not to blame
for what happened.." Dixie insisted.

"That's what I told him.." Roy agreed in exasperation.
"Only my half witted partner here doesn't believe me."

"Wait a minute. Wait a minute.. Guys. Don't you
think all of this should be between just Mike
Morton and me?"

"And a pair of lawyers, Gage. Can't forget them."
Brice piped up, trying to interject a bit of
reality to the problem.

Johnny's face went even a paler shade of gray.

"Oh, Johnny. Knock it off. You did what you could.
I heard the whole story from Hank Stanley when
he was here to see you two back then. Now, why
don't you just sit back and let Kel handle all this?
It's his job to go to bat for his paramedics."
Dixie moaned.

"And mine.." Craig piped up.

Somehow, Brice's admission didn't feel all that
warm and fuzzy to Johnny Gage like it could
have been. He just stuck magnet eyes on Craig 
and mumbled tongue tied comments of no import 
while he twisted his brain around the convolutions of 
his current nightmare conversation.

Finally, Gage said something the others could
understand. "You mean, Brackett's cool about
all this? That he'd know if I could be sued for
incompetency over ..over.. Miss Morton's..?"

"He should know. He was handling your medical 
calls that day." Dixie said firmly. "You're just
going to have to trust your higher-ups to know
what's best for you in the long run to patch
things between Morton and the courts before
this whole thing blows up out of porportion."

"That's what I'm afraid of.." Johnny whispered,
taking a bite of his suddenly cold food. 
"I'm not in control here anymore." he said
in a way no one else heard.

While the others ate and moved happily onto 
other subjects, Johnny Gage suddenly felt like the 
loneliest man in the world.

-----------------------------------------------------------------

Johnny was heading out the cafeteria doors to
rejoin Roy in the squad, when he overheard the 
clump of nurses he usually targetted for-asking 
out-on-a-date practice, speaking in animated voices 
amongst themselves.

::That's what I can do.. Get a new date to cheer 
myself up!:: Johnny thought smiling to himself. 

"Did you hear he's going to do it?" said
one pixie like nursing student, to the others.

"Who's going to do what?" asked another.

Johnny started to head over to them
wearing his best Johnny Gage suitor's 
smile, when the next sentence floating 
out to him from the entry way doors, 
made him flatten against a shadowy wall.

"Why Morton, silly. He's going after a 
paramedic who seriously let him down 
on a run."

A third nurse gasped, her breath going
wide up in a whistle of shock. "No...
I feel sorry for whoever that paramedic
is. They're all so cute."

"Yeah,.. looks like we'll have one less 
working here by the end of the week."
a third joked.

They melted away to their cars, going
off shift while Johnny stood stunned
in the corner.

::A lawsuit? Oh my G*d.::

He barely remembered getting into
the squad with Roy.
------------------------------------------------
 
Photo:  Dix closeup in the cafeteria. 

Photo: Brice and Roy laughing.

Photo: Johnny at Rampart looking bugged.

Photo: Johnny surrounded by nurses.

Photo: Morton at the station, looking all business.

**************************************************
Date: Thu, 2 Oct 2003 00:18:37 -0700 (PDT) 
From: "Jeff Seltun" <finiterider@yahoo.com>  
Subject:  Rated PG for Graphic Content.. The Tiny Miracle 

*Beep* Beep* Beep*.

"Here we go.." Gage said, just to
fill the heavy void in his mind and heart.

##Station 51. Woman down. 911766 Lander's
Way. 911766 Lander's Way. Cross street,
Buena Vista Blvd. Time Out : 10: 46.##

"Looks like the engine's going to beat
us there, Johnny." Roy said as he
pulled into the drive of the hospital
and turned right under the walkway to
get to the freeway. "Hope it's a medical.
Not a trauma. They don't have that
much for gear.."

They were half way there when
the radio crackled, truck to truck.
##Engine 51 to Squad 51. We
have a s-stabbing, with arterial  
bleeding. What's your ETA?##

Gage didn't miss the odd tension
in his captain's voice. He immediately
frowned. "Now why would Cap 
broadcast a medical update over
the radio?" he said aloud.

"I don't know." Roy replied. "Let's
just get there first. Sounds bad."
He rounded a turn and then rubbed
his lips in thought. "Lander's Way.
Now why does that sound familiar to
me?"

"Gotta be a business with a street
address number that long." Gage
concluded. "Turn left here." and
Gage thumbed the radio mic and
replied. "Engine 51. Our ETA is
three minutes."

##10-4. Be advised we have two
victims. Repeat two victims..## 
Again they both heard the odd note
in Hank's voice even through the normal
tinny din of the open frequency.

Then another odd occurance happened.
They heard Cap calling out for another squad.

"Squad 8? They're farther away than us.
What the h*ll?" Johnny wondered as he
listened to Brice and Bellingham 
acknowledge the call.

"We'll know when we get there. Maybe
it's that new rule of one critical per squad
Brackett was talking about during the last
meeting coming into effect a month early."
Roy guessed.

"That's right. I remember that. It was
Brackett and Brice's idea." Gage 
replied. "And I know Cap's good with
delegating tasks when he's got his hands 
full. Even for the medical stuff."

"They've got two O2 tanks." Roy agreed.
"Those'll last well for them until we get 
there with ours."

Johnny glanced at his watch and
scribbled a note in his book. "T-minus
two minutes from arrival.."

Roy stepped on the accelerator.

----------------------------------------------
Marco was getting sick behind a parked
car a short distance away.

Chet's complexion was faring little better. 
Kelly looked up from the dressing he held
over the woman's swollen belly and
away from the movement he was seeing 
there. "What should I do, Cap? I don't
want to tip her over onto her side to deal 
with that nausea or this fluid'll gush
out and expose it more.." he said 
softly, with high stress.

Cap continued to whisper reassurances
to the half conscious woman on the ground.
"Easy.. It's ok. Just keep breathing this in.
The rescue squad IS on its way here." he 
said, holding a passive demand valve over 
her face trying to ease the oxygen debt she 
was feeling due to her massive 
hemorrhaging. ::I sure hope it's Brice who 
gets here first..::
"Chet. Just keep her on her back. I got
the suction here if she gets ill, ok, pal?
Just keep pressure around that wound
without pressing down too much. Just
apply dressings enough to slow the 
bleeding. We have to keep any more 
contamination from getting inside of her
abdomen there."

"Where's my husband?" she moaned.
"I want to see him... Oh...hHHh."

"Don't talk right now. Please, just keep still."
Cap soothed, then he looked up with
a tight mouth. "Stoker! Any sign of
her assailant? There's more blood over
here possibly from a second person, 
by Marco. On second thought, never
mind. Go check on Lopez and see 
how he's doing. We need help here. 
She's waking up."

"The thief's gone, Cap. I just talked to a witness
over here who said he ran to the north with 
her purse. He must have mugged her when 
she came out of the grocery store." Mike
replied.

Hank nodded in agreement. "Probably
because she was pregnant. Go handle
Marco then get back here with more
dressings. Also, we can at least set 
up a burn sheet to get her off the ground.
  Get a backboard and c-collar while
you're at it. We can start immobilizing her, 
too, after we cut these clothes off. But first, 
get her covered up. There are too many 
gawkers gathering here."

The sight of the engine and four firefighters
was indeed drawing a crowd from
the shopping mart and a coffee shop from
across the street. There was as yet, no
P.D. for crowd control. Hank got on his
HT. "Squad Eight, Engine 51. What's 
your ETA?"

## Four minutes.##

"10-4, Squad Eight. Our victim's regaining some 
consciousness but is developing complications."

##Understood. We're increasing our speed.## 
came Brice's cool reply.

Cap wished he could tell his arriving people
more but didn't want to run the risk for
safety reasons. ::It's bad enough as it is..::

A choking sound drew Hank's attention
downwards. "Maam?!" he shouted. "Can
you hear me?" The woman's stomach
began to heave as she tried to quell
sudden rising bile. 

It caused some amber amniotic fluid to run 
from the gaping stab wound Chet was 
managing. "Easy.. easy!" Kelly urged. 
"Don't move down here.You'll hurt yourself 
further.." 

Hank saw the woman's eyes roll back
into her head as shock finally stole away her 
consciousness. He tipped back her head 
and looked into her mouth with practiced 
cross scissor fingers. Quickly, he suction 
wanded out some welling emesis he 
found there from the back of her throat 
until the choking sounds were gone.

When he looked up, he saw all four
of his men around him over the woman.
::Good going. Now we'll get things done.::

Cap bent low to listen for sounds
of respirations. "She's still breathing.
Marco, get a resp rate after you're
through strapping her onto that long
board. Stoker. Get another sheet over her
as soon as he's through. Her pulse's
weakening. It's 130." he said, keeping 
one monitoring finger on a deeply
sunk in carotid artery.

"Cap, I don't know about this." Chet said
from where he was kneeling with his hold
around the stab wound. "There's a lot
of air getting in around the baby. I'm getting
real worried here that I'm not doing enough."

"Just hang on, pal. As long as she
doesn't lose any more amniotic fluid,
we're fine. The baby'll share the O2 she's
getting, through the umbilical cord." And he
stepped up his care, starting to actively 
ventilate the woman when her breathing
grew too shallow for his liking. 

::Come on, Johnny, Roy. Get the lead out.:: 
Chet willed mentally. ::She's one we can't 
lose..::

Cap looked up to see an arrowing squad
flying towards them from the east. It wasn't
squad 8. ::Uh oh. Didn't want that to happen.::
"Stoker get set. Watch Roy carefully
when he gets here. And keep him away from 
me. Gage's the only one allowed to handle 
her." he said, keeping up his vents on 
Joanne DeSoto. 

"Regulations?" Marco asked.

Cap nodded his head.

All three were watching when Roy's 
horrid cry of recognition exploded from 
his lips. Mike Stoker intercepted DeSoto's
desperate charge to get near his wife 
and unborn child. "Joanne!"

Gage almost dropped the gear boxes
and O2 he was carrying. "What?!"
He ran by Stoker. "Don't you let go of
him.." he ordered. "No matter what he
does or says. Brice and Bellingham 
will be here long before I get in over 
my head." 

Mike had brought Roy to his knees to
keep him from getting into his crewmates'
way. He kept talking to DeSoto, telling
him what was wrong and what they had 
found on her.

"Joanne? Stabbed in the abdomen? 
The baby!!" Roy panicked. "I gotta
get over there."

"DeSoto. Stay put!" Cap snapped.
"Or it's your job, pal. Understood?"
he said more softly, in sympathy.

Roy nodded reluctantly, but finally
he stopped struggling with Stoker. He
tried to content himself with trying to see 
over the sheets to where Johnny, Chet,
Marco and Cap were crouched. He 
could barely make out the slight rise
and fall of Joanne's chest in between
the breaths Cap was giving her.

At a glance from Gage, Hank reported, 
"She got sick once. And I already listened.
Nothing got into her chest. It's clear."

Gage sighed in relief. ::One hurdle 
down. Let's see how far we get with
the rest of things.:: Johnny was already 
sweeping over Joanne's body in a rapid 
assessment. "Only that one stab wound?" 
he demanded of Kelly.

"Yeah, there's no exit wound. 
Johnny,...hurry. It's coming out.." Chet 
said in a tight whisper. "So's all the fluid 
bath."

"What?" Gage leaned in closer,
quickly pulling on a pair of sterile latex gloves
from an obstetrical trauma kit. He nodded
for Marco to lift the sheet a little higher and 
to place a penlight into his mouth so Johnny 
could shine it into the dark wound that way.

He could see Roy and Joanne's third
unborn child floating silently, without 
independent movement, deep within,
with his naked eye. 
::Oh, my g*d. Please be alive. Please. 
Please..:: he begged mentally, and he 
reached out carefully to a limb he saw just
beneath the surface of inner skin surrounding 
the torn uterus. A tiny hand tightly gripped his 
finger in reflex to his stroking of its palm instantly.

Johnny's eyes teared up in a relieving surge of 
glad discovery. "The baby's alive, Roy. Looks 
like the knife didn't get down that far. I'm not
seeing any bright arterial blood in here." 

Roy wilted in a relieved father's release 
and Stoker let him go. "Th- Thank you."
he said glancing up. Bright tears had
filled his eyes. "How's she doing, Johnny?"

Johnny freed the tiny hand from his
index finger and covered it with a 
damp sterile saline gauze pad carefully.
"Chet. This doesn't come off. Got it?"

"Clear as anything."

Johnny addressed his distraught partner.
"She's fine, Roy. I got pulses down
to the brachial level on both arms and
good bilateral femoral pulses. Looks like
the knife didn't hit any major organs either. 
I'm not smelling any bowel. Just the anterior 
superior uterus here seems effected in the 
central umbilical region.This laceration's only 
about four inches long but it's penetrating 
clear through to the womb obliquely."

He glanced lower and didn't find any
bloody show further down. "The birth
canal's intact, Roy. Thing's are looking 
real good." he sighed out loud. "All her
trauma seems to be extremely localized."

He peeled off his fluid stained gloves
and got out a blood pressure cuff.
"Ok, Chet. The bleeding's mostly stopped.
Your job is to make sure the baby
doesn't poke through again, ok? Put
on this second pair of gloves and 
maintain a firm barrier over the wound."
  
"I'm no nurse, Johnny. I don't want
to hurt the baby." Kelly frowned.

"You won't, the baby'll move back
away from you shortly. It's not
uncommon for free movement this
late along, during a second trimester."

Roy was nodding his head in agreement
despite his numbing emotional fog. He 
nodded every step of the way, too, during 
Johnny's biophone call to Rampart, at
every satisfactory aspect of his partner's 
examination results and vital signs report.

"....Rampart, it appears she's lost about
800 cc's of blood to the outside and 
about......" he added, lifting up the cut away 
garments forgotten and shoved into a heap 
behind Chet,  to look more closely for a better
estimate of volume. "...200 cc's of amniotic fluid 
from what I'm seeing here." he said.

Kel's firm no nonsense voice filled the air.
"51, start two I.V.'s Normal Saline and run
wide open until her B.P. comes up. Under
no circumstances are you to pack
the wound. I'd rather it drain freely. We'll
handle any major leakage when she arrives
and gets sent into surgery. Use no pain 
medications on the victim, at all. It might 
further depress the baby's vital signs. 
What are they, 51?"

Gage read his notes. "Fetal pulse is 180 
via stethoscope auscultation. Mother's 
respiratory rate, assisted, is 22 on 16 liters
of O2."

"Good enough. Watch for fetal protrusions
such as free limbs or the umbilical cord in
transit. Under no circumstances are you
to push any such extrusion back into the
uterus. Just maintain space around the 
area manually to keep good circulation 
going in the part."

"10-4, Rampart. So far, just an arm's been
visible, that only submerged, and a hand,
briefly."

Over the radio, Dr. Morton, who had been
walking by, commented. "No doubt that's
how Gage found out the baby was still
alive. The grasping reflex.."

"No doubt.." Kel agreed.

Brackett re-thumbed the talk button. 
"Keep her warm, keep her legs
elevated and get her and baby in
here a.s.a.p. Tell the ambulance 
driver to avoid potholes if at all 
possible. Oh, and don't forget to
apply an occlusive dressing over the 
wound to slow the amniotic fluid loss 
you're experiencing. That's irreplaceable 
at this stage of the game."

"10-4, Rampart. Treat for shock.
and use an air tight dressing."

Right then, Squad Eight came
tearing around a corner, screeching
efficiently to a halt and Brice
and Bellingham got out. "Rampart,
an additional squad has arrived to
help me keep her and her wound stable.
Our ETA is approximately fifteen 
minutes. The Mayfair's here."
Gage added when a second set of sirens
grew in rising pitch, from the distance.

Roy was finally allowed to sit by
Joanne's head, slightly to one
side so he didn't get in the way of
the oxygen being delivered to his still
wife and very active baby.  Already, the 
shock he experienced when he first got 
to the scene, was lifting.
"I don't suppose you saw the baby's
gender over there." Roy quipped, trying to 
smile and he gently caressed Joanne's
pale face around Cap's jaw gripping 
glove.

Johnny shook his head. "Sorry about that.
Your baby decided to not cooperate in 
that way, Pally. Relax.. They're both in 
good hands. Mine. I promised you that 
I'd be here."

"And you are.." Brice said, kneeling, as
he snatched Johnny's notepad from
his hands to read what Gage had written
down.

His speculative eye cast over Joanne
once and his head bobbed in satisfaction
over the progress of her course of treatment 
thus far. Craig waved over the ambulance 
attendants. "We're ready here. Looks like 
everything's set and good to go."
------------------------------------------------

Photo: Johnny and Roy headed for
           the squad through the ER doors.

Photo: Joanne DeSoto in close up.

Photo: An extra-uterus fetal hand gripping
           a gloved finger.

*********************************************
Date: Thu, 2 Oct 2003 00:52:00 -0700  
From: "Sam Iam" <lafddispatcher@yahoo.com>   
Subject:  Bull in a China Shop.. 
 

"Hey..." Dixie gently woke her two favorite
paramedics where they slumped in their
seats outside the surgical family waiting room.

Roy and Johnny both sat up, rubbing sleepers
out of their eyes quickly and they both coughed 
to get their voices back from the depths of
slumber.

"It's over. The surgery was a success. Dr.
Brackett managed to seal up your wife's
womb without losing any more amniotic fluid.
Joanne's just been extubated and is resting
comfortably. So's the baby on the sonograms,
Joe says. And there's a one hundred percent
chance she'll be able to carry your baby
all the way to full term for a normal delivery."

"When can I see her, Dix?" Roy asked.

"Oh, in about an hour or so. By then,
she'll be awake enough for visits.."
McCall grinned. "I gotta go. My shift's
up."

"See ya Dixie..And, thanks for everything." 
DeSoto said after her as she padded 
quietly down the hall towards the elevators
in the semi darkness of the nighttime hospital
wing.

"Say, maybe this's is gonna fix
everything." Gage said softly.

"What's gonna fix what?" Roy 
croaked groggily.

"This whole rescue and how 
Morton feels about me being the one
who headed it. He can't possibly
hold malice towards me now."

"Oh, that again?" Roy said rubbing tired
eyes as he almost began drifting
off to sleep right where he was
in his waiting room chair.

"Maybe if he sees how well I handled
Joanne and the baby on paper.." he paused.
"With you, of course.. that he'll have
no desire to press charges about how
I handled his sister that day. He
was there in the room with Brackett for
this one. I know. I heard him."

"Who knows what that man thinks.
I don't think anyone around Rampart
can say much about him personally."
Roy admitted. "So how can you predict
how he'll react with any certainty?"

"Yeah, guess you're right.." Gage
said, sinking into a depression once
again that outshown the joy he
felt meeting Roy's unborn son or
daughter peeking out of the womb.

He thought again about what he
had overheard from the student nurses
on his way out the ER doors the day before.
::Man.. Maybe I SHOULD bough out while
I still have my pride left. I can't take this
anymore. Gonna have to do something about
that before I'm embarrassed publicly before
everyone in a courtroom.::

Somewhere halfway to home, Johnny Gage
made his final decision.

------------------------------------
It was the next day after a harrowing 
fire call, at the resupplying  station.

"Gage, I wanna talk to you."

"About what..?" Johnny said,
stiffening up at Morton's approach.
::Here it comes, the ultimatum.::

"About missing critical vital signs
on a patient that we both took care 
of together."

"On who?" Johnny blinked in surprise.

"Baby DeSoto."

"I didn't miss any vitals signs on the baby."
he said fading from neutral into a tone
which carried a tinge of irritation.

"This here says you did. There's a blank
space glaring out at me. Caused me
and my receptionist a few headaches
transcribing my ER report this morning."

"Give me that.." Johnny said, snatching
up the run sheet xerox from Mike's hands
and reading where the young doctor
was pointing.

"I did take a fetal pulse. Apically.."
Gage insisted. "I got a rate of 180."

"Where? I don't see any notation
about it on Joanne's run sheet.
See? It isn't anywhere on here."

Johnny just gaped like a fish..

".. I'm right and you know it." 
Morton said cooly, his less than 
stellar bedside manner showing.

"No , I'm right!" Johnny insisted.
"This is a xerox, Dr. Morton. And
I just didn't press my pen down
hard enough. It's there. I can
see the ink furrows plainly."

Kel Brackett finally decided to
get into the fray. "Maybe this isn't a case 
of who was right you two? Joanne's fine.
The baby's fine. So why are
you both squabbling over the details?
You both did a fantastic job both in
the field and in the treatment room
yesterday." Kel insisted, grumbling 
stonily. But his comment fell on two
sets of deaf ears.

Johnny and Morton were still
glaring at each other like two
caged lions.

Kel smiled as he walked away
from the base station, shaking his
head ruefully. He would let his two favorite
ex-student proteges, work it out for 
themselves.

"I did an absolutely spectacular fetal
stabilization out there. And you know
it. You make me feel as if I'm being
incompetent or something here."

"Maybe I am.." Morton said, not
at Johnny, but inwardly, to himself.

"Why?" Johnny asked sharply, taking
that comment's meaning entirely the
wrong way.

"I don't know." Morton shrugged,
still thinking to himself and only half 
listening.

Johnny was still fuming and defensive.
"Then why don't you just haul me
off to court and we'll square this
whole issue away once and for all.."

"Huh? Oh, that. I don't have the money 
right now to pursue any charges 
against you, Gage."

"Now Morton, Look..." Johnny said
very hushed, fearing the worst.

"And I wouldn't do such a petty thing
anyway because it wouldn't be justified 
in the slightest to even attempt it."

Johnny's head immediately lifted.
"What?"

"I'm not blaming you for my sister's death,
Fireman Gage.  But I AM still a little jumpy
when it comes to handling rescue calls involving
any teen aged girls who are near the age Angie 
was. Something me and the counselors haven't
been able to figure out yet. That's why I got 
a little tight with you earlier, about how
you assessed the baby, over the biocom."

"You mean.."

Morton held up silencing fingers, just 
as the hospital receptionist summoned
his name over the intercom pager
and gave a where-to-report-next location.

Mike refocused on a tense paramedic
face. "That's right, Gage. I never went 
to a courthouse to file a lawsuit. 
That would've been stupid. I finally 
summoned up enough courage to read 
Angie's final autopsy report. 
She never had a chance at
surviving that accident, Johnny.
There was nothing humanly possible
that you could've done. Excuse me,
I have a lot of work to do right now.
Can we talk about all this later?"

Mutely, Johnny nodded.

Half a second later, Dr. Morton wandered 
down the hall to the nurses' station phone
to answer his page.

--------------------------------------------------

Photo : Dixie making an appearance
            for Roy and John in the nurses lounge.

Photo:  Morton squaring off with a wary Gage.

Photo:  Roy eyeing something intently in closeup.

**********************************************
From : "Cassidy Meyers" <killashandrarey@hotmail.com>  
Subject :The Final Post.. (No pun intended) Heh...:)  
Date : Thu, 02 Oct 2003 12:20:17 +0400  
   
Johnny Gage rushed out of the hospital
rest room, searching for his bored,
wandering partner. "There you are! 
Roy! I did something really stupid."

"What? Did you get dressed again
without a spare set of shoelaces handy?"
Roy smirked. "Don't tell me, you broke 
yet another pair." Roy said sipping 
his coffee by the entry way doors
leading out to the ambulance ramp.

"No, you gotta listen. I wrote a letter
to headquarters and I mailed it without
even thinking straight."

Roy tipped his head in a sinking suspicion,
but out loud he asked. "What kind of letter?"

"The kind no one ever wants to write.."

"You didn't."

"Yes, I did."

"Why didn't you tell me you did something
so stupid."

"Thought I just told ya, pal."

Roy grimaced, and looked at his watch.
"Oh, Johnny..." he whined. "Which mail 
box?"

"The one by home.."

"Uh, oh.."

"Uh, oh what?"

"The postal truck picks up all
deliveries in your neighborhood
at eight o'clock."

"What time is it now? Maybe I got
time to drive down there and--"

"Can you drive faster than a hundred
miles an hour?" DeSoto squinted as
he noted what time it read on his wrist
watch.

"Oh, no.."

"Oh, yes. We got twenty minutes to
intercept that letter." Roy's face fell.
"Why'd ya do it partner? I thought we
were friends."

"Roy, would you cut that out. I didn't
mean it."

"Oh really. Tell that to headquarters when
they open up the envelope." Somberly,
he stuck out his hand. "It's been nice
knowing ya. By noon, I'm afraid
you're out of a job. You know how
McConnike feels about quitters."

Johnny Gage suddenly snapped his
fingers in the midst of a great idea.

"Roy, I think I figured a way outta this.
Bear with me." And he snatched the HT
out of his partner's hand.

-------------------------------------------------

Roy sat in the seat of the squad with
his driver's door open, looking like
the proverbial speak no evil monkey.

All the medical gear from the stow
was conveniently arranged around
the mail box in a neat ring. Johnny
even had out the jaws of life.

It had been bad enough roaring down
the freeway with lights and siren on for
no good reason at all. Luckily, they had
never run into another called out station
while they were doing it.

Johnny tried to look nonchalant
as E 51 pulled up with the rest of
the gang Code Three. "What's
the problem, Gage? " Hank said
stepping out of the cab before
the Ward was even curbside.
"Sam was a little light on details for 
this one. All we got was 'Unknown 
Type Rescue" with your squad call 
sign as the originator.."

"Uhhh.." Roy stuttered.

"Roy, Just shush.. I'll explain it.."
Johnny said and he bravely stepped
forward to provide some
protection for his partner.

"Well, uh,," Johnny cleared his 
throat nervously. "You see, Cap, it's
like this.  I sorta kinda wrote a stupid
letter this morning before I came to
work. One that I kinda regret.."

Hank Stanley caught on immediately
and dropped his head with an irritated
grimace that soon, rapidly, became a snarl
as comprehension dawned.
"Don't say anything more, Gage.
Oh my word...L*rd all mighty in Heaven..!"

He set his hands on his hips and
counted to ten..

"Cap,.. I.."

Hank held up a hand while the
gang gathered around him from
the engine's cab for orders. Then they 
noticed Hank silencing Gage with his 
trademark scathing nonverbal captain's 
gesture.

 Slowly, his face turned a bright scarlet.
Hank took in a deep breath and ...then
he let loose.."We just wasted tax payers' 
gasoline dollars to come all the way out 
here to high tech rescue a stupid 
resignation letter?!" Hank boomed.

"Uh..." Johnny peeped. "Cap, the
postman's gonna be here any second."
he insisted lamely.

"I don't believe this! Of all your crazy
lame brained schemes.. this one
certainly takes the cake, Gage."

"Yeah, but isn't it noble?" Chet piped
up, sudden admiration's stars in
his eyes at Johnny's cack handed
way of getting out of a rough spot.

Cap's face just turned a darker
shade of red.

"Breathe, Cap." Marco insisted
from somewhere out of range.

DeSoto and Gage just glared
at Lopez..

"We're saving my partner's 
career here." Roy dropped into the
boiling silence between them all.

"Say,,," said Chet, scenting an opportunity
to get even in the years long Gage/Kelly
one upmanship game. "Cap,..just think of 
how many favors you can glean off him 
for this."

Hank's glower faded away into a calculating
speculation. "Ahh. That's right. I get to pull
some serious rank AND discipline here.
Let's see, well, latrine duty for sixty days, 
kitchen chow and dish detail until Christmas.."
he said ticking off two fingers on his glove.

"Until Christmas?!" Gage sputtered, then 
immediately hushed up sheepishly.

"That's exactly right. Protest further and 
I'll double it.."

Gage was a mouse. A mute one.

Then they all heard responding sirens
from an approaching police car.

"Uh oh,'' Cap trickled.
     
"Quick! Pretend like your arm's stuck, Chet."
Johnny shouted out to the back of
the engine.

"Do what the man says Kelly and
be quick about it.." Hank re-enforced.

"What, Cap?" Chet said as he
huffed over with the equipment they
needed.

"You heard me.." Cap hissed as
the squad car squealed to a halt
angled a forty five to the engine to
deflect traffic away from it.

"Hurry up, Chet. We gotta make 
this look good." Marco quipped.

"We're going to be destroying
government property here, Kelly." Cap
clarified, looking around self consciously
at the curious passersby drawn in by 
the sight of the flashy engine and squad
in front of the bank.

"We need an excuse." Stoker said
when Kelly still didn't yet catch on. 
"Bury an arm now, Chet. "

"And moan a little.. cause here comes 
Vince to guard the loose mail that'll 
result from our steel splitting 
surgery.." Roy grinned.

"Oh,,,geez.." and the lightbulb finally 
clicked on.. "Right, Gage.. " Chet stuck his
arm into the box ."Ohh,, I don't feel so
good."

John smacked Kelly subtly on the arm
for overreacting a little too much.
"Hi Vince..." he greeted brightly.

"What's the problem here, boys..?"

"Chet's stuck. Thought we had a puppy 
fallen down a mail box, Vince. Only dork 
head over here couldn't wait for the key."

"Is that a fact?"  Vince leaned over
and planted an ear against the post
box and listened. "I don't hear anything."

"The little bugger got away..." Chet
protested admirably. "He WAS here.
Look.." and he pointed down to a 
convenient pile of doggy doo doo
steaming on a curb near where they
were standing. "He crawled right up
my arm like a cat getting out. He even
clawed my face.. See?" And he
pointed to a lac he got from a shooting
cinder the night before.

"Hmm. Ok, boys.. I'll authorize
a sawing.." Vince finally agreed.
"Just... try to keep the public's mail
intact while you're doing it, all right?"

The K-12 flower petalled the mail box in
less than twenty seconds under Stoker's
extraordinary extrication skills.

Gage subtly kicked the letter he recognized
as his into the sewer sunk into the street.

::Problem solved..:: he grinned in final relief.
::This nightmare, is over..::

-------------------------------------------

Photo : Roy and John laughing at Rampart.

Photo : Cap and Chet highly amused outside.

Photo : A very serious Johnny and Vince.

Photo: A yellow street corner mail box.

Photo : A hand delivering a letter to a mailbox.

Photo: A very smug satisfied, smiling Johnny.
 
***********************************************

FIN

      
    :)   To friends of depressed and down friends             :(
         everywhere. Thanks for being there for them.
         This episode is dedicated to Officer Benkowski,
         who took his own life when there wasn't a friend
    :(   near enough to show him that life, was still, good.   :(
                                                                             

@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@
 

  The Story Unfolds...

Season One, Episode Nine..  
      
     Green Pen Of Johnny's

  
***************************************************
From: <rosafleehart@yahoo.com>
Subject : A Partner's Choice
Date: Sun Sep 21, 2003 12:27 pm

It was only hours from the end of a bad shift 
for the guys of 51's. A-shift, as usual. 

Johnny and Chet where arguing, and the rest of 
the guys were watching, when the tone went off. 

It was gonna be a big one. It was a four alarmer, a warehouse. 

They arrived on scene, met by the day supervisor.
"We have three workers missing in there!"

"Ok, we'll handle it. What kind of stuff is in there?"

"We ship high explosives to all kinds of contractors for 
demolition work. If that place goes, it will level three 
city blocks." 

"Oh my G*d." The captain calls in to dispatch. Then he calls Roy 
and Johnny over. They all talk. "Dispatch this is 51. You better 
send me another alarm. We have an explosives factory involved. 
Also, police, for evacuation of at least four blocks all around our 
location. "

##Ten four, 51.##

"Ok, now. Hey.. Roy, John! Come here. You tell these men where 
the missing employees were working at last. "

"What do we got, Cap? " Roy asked.

"High explosives and missing employees times three."

"We saw them last in the packing room on the south end 
of the building over there."

"Ok . Thanks. You know get your people back?"

The man ran to where his other employees where standing 
to wait.

Meanwhile, he said to both Roy and Johnny as well.
"How do you wanna work this?"

"We'll go in, I guess. I don't see any other way, Cap."

"Ok.... But be careful. I don't want you two
getting into anything you can't handle, ok ? 
Be careful."

"Yeah. "

They suit up and go in. Just as they reach the area where 
the missing people were last seen, there is a victim. 

A woman. 

Roy grabs her. Johnny tells him to get her out. He would 
see if he could spot anyone else and be right behind him. 

Then, just as they are starting to move, there is a large explosion 
that rocks the building. And Johnny sees danger as he looks up, 
and pushes Roy to safety along with the victim just as part of the 
ceiling came down.

Johnny couldn't get out of the way in time and is trapped under 
all the debris. Roy hands the victim off to another team of fire 
fighters who come over to them just then. He knows there should 
be another squad outside. He instructs the men to take the 
victim outside. Then he grabs his radio and says into it.
"Engine 51! This is HT 51! We have a code I in here! Fire fighter 
trapped under a fallen ceiling. We need help. "

Then Roy removed as much of the debris as he could to get to 
Johnny.

He got to him finally, but he was unconscious. 
-----------------------------------------------------------------

No photo attachments.

******************************************************* 
From : "Cassidy Meyers" <killashandrarey@hotmail.com>
Subject : Fireman Down...  
Date :Thu, 09 Oct 2003 23:30:54 +0400  
   
"Johnny? Can you hear me?!" he shouted
over the roaring din of fire around him.

Roy's HT crackled and drowned out any possible 
reply that might have come from him. 

It was Cap. ##Hang in there, Roy! I've got 
Lopez, Stoker and Kelly en route to you now with just
a long board. It's the fastest way of getting him out
of there! ##

Roy thumbed his reply, crouching protectively
over his partner's face and chest to ward
off the remnants of the ceiling that still spit burning 
embers down around them from the upper story.
"10-4. Tell them to follow my rope! I'm about 
thirty yards from the east entrance near a toppled 
fork lift!" DeSoto turned all of his attention to
finding positive life signs on Johnny.

Roy's first move was to pull off one of his
hose dampened gloves to slide a couple of 
fingers inside his partner's air mask to 
feel for signs of breathing. 

Immediately, they moistened from the stress 
related puffs of warm breath whistling rapidly 
in and out of Johnny's mouth. Roy bent
closer and he saw that there was a trickle of 
blood running profusely from Gage's nose, trailing
rivers onto the sweaty cracked face plexiglass 
covering it.  To his dismay, there was no sign of 
animation, at all, active on Johnny's face.

"Gotta drain some of that out now." 
DeSoto turned Gage as a unit onto his side
to lay him against his own knees to await the 
help soon to arrive. He mumbled, keeping his free 
fingers on the artery beating weakly in Johnny's neck.
"Just hang in there, Junior. You're doing fine."  
 
Roy sliced away the straps of the air bottle from 
Johnny's back using his holster's utility knife
to get him set for the spine board in two swift
slashes.

Then he kicked Gage's half empty yellow air cylinder 
clear from its usual position until it rested near both 
their heads.

"Roy?! We're here! How is he?" came Kelly's 
muffled shout. It was followed by the angry hissing 
of fire as it was beaten dark by an inch and a half's 
violent water stream.  

Marco and Stoker came running to grab
Gage by the shoulders and legs to help 
Roy keep a tight alignment as Chet slid the 
board as close against his back as he could.

"He's breathing, you guys. But he's really out. 
Watch his neck! He's got some fast facial 
bleeding." DeSoto snapped through his glass.

"I'll be careful...! I'm always careful.."
Kelly countered first gruff, then calming
at DeSoto, as he tried not to let the worry
in his eyes show through his mask.

Chet knocked away Gage's useless helmet
with an elbow while he got a good grip
with his gloves on either side of Johnny's 
head as they rolled him gingerly, to once
again supine, and adjusted him in a centering 
line onto the board.
 
Stoker grabbed the two sand bags they had 
brought to keep Johnny's head even more stable 
under the chin and forehead straps, and he
handed them off to Roy for him to apply.

Lopez quickly dropped the hose that had cleared 
a cool wet path of black through the flaming warehouse
and handily got a good grip on the board.
"I got it snuffed. We gotta move now."

"Ok.. He's set." Roy gasped. "On, three,
we'll lift him. Ready? Three.." he rushed,
tossing the air bottle onto his partner's
dusty knees carelessly. He made sure 
that Gage's shattered air mask remained in place.
::It's still doing its job keeping out the smoke.::

Scared for their lives, the four men from
Station 51 carried out their fifth as the 
warehouse rumbled in threat around them
with lurid fire while dodging many destabilizing 
burning crates as the boxes fell from their 
berths around them. 

Finally, they cleared out into the night air.

Cap met them on the run and paced along
side of them as he peeled off Gage's air 
mask to reopen his airway with a careful
jaw thrust move. Another hand buried itself
under Gage's slightly smoking jacket. 
"He's still moving air ok.. I got the 02 and biophone 
connected and already hooked up, and an ambulance 
will be here in four minutes. Roy, did you guys 
see anybody else in there?"

Roy blinked in shock when he realized that
he had nothing to report on the others beyond
his own firefighting crew's well being. "Well, I- I.. "

Stoker saved his behind. "Cap, we did a sweep 
search the whole time we water blasted over 
to Roy and Johnny's location. We saw no one else
trapped. I can guarantee that the ground floor's clear.."

"Are you absolutely certain?"

"As sure as the fact you're standing in front of 
me." Mike confirmed, stepping over a yellow burn 
sheet spread over the ground.

"Ok..." Cap sighed, taking Stoker's update seriously.

They all helped carry Johnny's long board over
to the equipment laid out on the street and soon 
they were joined by two other county firemen to 
speed up the process.

Cap grimaced when he saw the large amount of
blood continuing its flow from Johnny's nostrils. 
But he had other worries still to deal with. Hank lifted
his head to shout aloud towards the avenue, 
radio-less, because his hands were still full 
maintaining a clear air passage on Johnny. "I want 
another scout team in the warehouse immediately to 
search the second floor. Under no circumstances 
is any one going back in without a hose backup!" 
he roared.

He saw Engine 10's captain take over his commanding
order to take rapid steps to implement it. From the 
corner of his eye, Hank saw a new team arrow towards 
the burning building dragging a hose at their tail. ::Good 
going. If those people are still alive in there, we'll find em.::

Under Hank's hands, Gage gagged just as Kelly,
Lopez, Roy, and Stoker lowered his board to 
the ground. Cap saw Gage's involuntary stomach 
muscles begin to rock back and forth under his burned 
blue shirt. "Flip him! He's getting ill.." he warned.

They rapidly log rolled Gage onto his side as Johnny
began to vomit up the blood that he had taken in from 
his sinuses. "He's screwing up his airway real bad.." 
Kelly said un-necessarily, showing his current high 
fright for his crewmate.
 
"He's fine now, Chet. Just relax, ok? I got it all.." Roy 
said, applying a last bit of suction inside Johnny's 
mouth from the unit on the resuscitator apparatus.
The smothering liquid gurgling inside the tube gave 
way to a smooth patent hissing sound of sucking air
so he withdrew the wand.
"There. We just gotta get him on some O2 now. 
Marco, you handle that.." DeSoto told him, beginning to
calm down somewhat. "Put him on 15Ls and be 
prepared to breathe for him if he goes over 24 
a minute. For now, we'll keep him on his side until 
he wakes up. Cap, you can let go of him now. I've 
pushed his tongue clear. Looks like he was biting it."

Hank nodded, pulling his blood stained 
hands away from where Lopez and Roy were
settling a demand valve over Johnny's
nose and mouth.

He rose to his feet to find a hose puddle
in which to wash. He didn't have far to go.
::Only to the curb here.:: he sighed and he
cleaned up. Then Captain Stanley 
pulled his HT out of his pocket and set it 
onto the squad's roof for monitoring 
while he watched Roy and the others 
work to assess Gage.

Roy wiped his hands off on the grass and
snatched up the biophone to speak..
-----------------------------------------------------

Photo :   Chet and Marco carrying Johnny
               on a long board.

Photo:  The gang scrambling to lay hose at a fire
              scene from the engine's line bed.

Photo:  Johnny screaming aloud as a ceiling
             falls on him inside a fire.

Photo:  Roy DeSoto on the landline in closeup.

Photo:  Tight shot of the biophone's dials. 

*******************************************
From: "Cory Anda"  <andacory@hotmail.com>
Subject: Volatile Situation..
Date: October 9, 2003. 09:45:08 0007 CST


"Rampart, this is Rescue 51. How do
you read?" Roy began.

Dr. Early turned on the desk reel to reel 
recorder after he got Dixie's hint that there 
was an incoming call arriving to the base 
station. ## Go ahead, 51.## he replied.

"Rampart. We have three victims from
an incendiary factory fire. Victim three has
yet to be located. Victim one, a male 
approximately sixty years of age. He's 
suffering from mild smoke inhalation. 
Victim number two's a Code I. He's unconscious 
following being pulled out from under a roof collapse. 
He's been fully immobilized on a long board. A 
cervical collar has been applied and he's on 15 
L's of O2. Vitals are: BP, 100/82, Respirations 
are 20 and rapid, and his carotid pulse is 120. 
There's substantial bleeding from his nose that we 
have draining by placement onto his side. He 
has no signs of cerebral spinal fluid leakage nor 
accompanying Coon's eyes or Battle's sign 
showing. His pupils are equal and reactive."

## 51, On Victim Two. Start an IV of Lactated 
Ringer's TKO and get a full neural assessment 
as soon as you can.  Keep his head elevated 
and transport as soon as you've established 
the IV. On victim number one, keep him on 
six liters of 02 via nasal cannula and monitor his 
vital signs carefully throughout  the trip in.
Let me know when you've reached Victim Three.##

"10-4,  Rampart." and Roy parroted his
medical orders to the letter back to Joe
Early to confirm what he had to do next.

Right then, Marco spoke up.
"Roy, he's coming to.."

DeSoto dropped the phone and bent
close to Gage's face, tapping Johnny
on an eyelid with a finger to see if
he blinked or not. "Johnny? You back?
Open your eyes.."
   
 On the fourth tap, Johnny's face
screwed up and he coughed wetly.

"Ok, guys.. Let's set him flat again.
He's awake enough to manage all
this bleeding."

Together, the four of them twisted, then 
tilted back the long board until it rested 
head up on Johnny's abandoned air bottle 
while they watched him regain a vestige of 
consciousness.

"Johnny?" Roy said loudly once again,
gripping his face firmly between his
hands. "Can you hear me?"

A soft moan answered him, then..
"I saw a child in..in... listen, *Ugh* ..listen
to me...I saw a small kid in there.." Gage
mumbled, shoving away the flowing ventilator 
mask. Marco kept it hovering close on 
blow by over his nose and mouth
as a compromise.

Chet looked up at Roy as he was 
covering Johnny up with a shock blanket. 
"Is he still half out of it? That last bit
didn't make any sense at all."

"Probably. And no, that didn't make any
sense to me either. Easy, Johnny. 
We're gonna haul you in to Rampart
next for a thorough checkup."

Gage began to fidget as clarity crept
back to him and he tried to touch
his face and struggle free of the long
board's restraints, grunting quietly.

DeSoto and Stoker both, grabbed
his shoulders to immobilize him. Roy
bent close to Johnny's bloody ear.
"Hey,, hey.. Just lie back a sec. Let Marco 
finish up on your 02 first. You're still
kinda in La La land."

Gage seemed to understand then and he
remained silent after that, blinking slowly
at the starry sky as he rubbed the ashes out
of his eyes. A minute later, he focused 
on Roy starting an IV on one of his arms 
and something finally clicked mentally. 
"That Ringers?"

"Yeah."

"I don't need it. I'm .. I'm..not shocky."
he fussed, pushing some new blood and 
old saliva out of the corner of his mouth in 
irritation.

"No, you're very stable. But you were 
unconscious for over ten minutes, partner.
Humor Early for once and let him play doctor. 
It'll boost his ego. He's getting real tired of
all the firefighters hurting themselves
this week." DeSoto smiled down at Gage. 
"Remember, Rampart's had just as bad
a shift as we had today, Junior. " he said.
Then he added casually.. "While we're
still on the subject, Johnny, do you hurt anywhere 
else besides your nose there? Don't go
fussing with it now.  It's not broken. I checked."

Gage eyed Roy up for several seconds in full
doubt at that assessment, but then he admitted.
"Nah..*cough* Just got a smoke headache. I think 
I'm only nauseated because of the crap I swallowed 
earlier." he groaned, closing his eyes to rest.. 
Johnny then allowed Marco to hold the mask over 
his face once more without protest.

"Well, we'll know that for sure once Early
sees your skull series. Just keep clearing
out that blood like you are." he told him seriously. 
But then his voice took up an amused warning. 
"Chet's got a gauze pad handy." Roy smirked.

Johnny opened his eyes when he felt new ministrations
begin. "Ohh nooo.. gimme that, Kelly." he snapped at  
Chet who had started wiping Gage's face dry. "I can clean 
up myself.." he mumbled around the mask, snatching away 
the 4 X 4 from the curly haired fireman's fingers. 
"I'm doing fine so quit sweating the small stuff here. I was 
just getting all the sh*t out of my mouth." And he began to 
do the task of mopping up, himself.

"Uh.. huh.. " Chet agreed with feigned sarcasm. "I saw 
that. I saw that, believe me." Then he looked up. 
"Looks like Johnny's brain is basically  intact, Roy. 
He's b*tching at me already."

"I came to that conclusion fifteen seconds ago."
DeSoto laughed.

Stoker, Chet and Marco all grinned. DeSoto
leaned close to examine Johnny's face and
nose in more detail with his metallic pen light. 
"Your nasal bleeding's finally slowing." Roy 
said.

Johnny emitted a noise of doubt. "Huh..
Feels like I'm still drowning in it."

"Unlikely.." Roy countered. "You're still
talking." he quipped slyly.

"Amen to that, Roy!" Chet chattered 
enthusiastically, giggling uproariously.

Johnny glared.  But only mildly, at his 
coworkers.

A commotion drew all their attentions then.
 
The day supervisor was rushing over
to where Cap was standing and he suddenly
blurted out. "Say, Mister. I got the demolition 
experts from the plant coming from downtown. 
They say they can help coordinate an operation
to use explosives to put out the fire near the most
critical explosive production rooms."
said the manager in tan.

"Talk to that man right there." Cap interjected
and he pointed a finger at Battalion 
14, just setting up shop a short distance
away in the safe zone.

Cap watched as Station Ten's men
ran out of the building with a gasping
man supported between their shoulders.
::There's number two..:: he thought,
remembering the woman who had
been brought out earlier before Johnny's
trouble.

He started to turn away when he
saw that the smoke stained man was fine and 
conscious. The recovery team was placing 
their burden onto a waiting hearse ambulance 
gurney when Cap heard him speak, urgently
hoarse around his oxygen mask.
"Hey. *cough* My daughter's still in there."

Hank motioned for the attendants, who were
starting to wheel him away, to halt. "Wait a minute.
Wait a minute. I wanna talk to this man. Mister, 
can you repeat that? Is your daughter the third 
victim we've been looking for?"

"What? Little Megan? No way.. 
She's nine years old and cute as a button."

That last comment struck a chill down Chet 
and Roy's spines. "Johnny was right about
there being a kid in there somewhere?" Kelly 
gasped.

They both looked up from the IV they were taping 
down, sharply, and started paying attention to the 
new victim information Cap was gleaning bit by bit 
from the agitated man.

The injured worker continued his story.
"She came to see where I work, on a tour. *cough*
She's writing a school paper on what line of 
work I'm into since she's got the crazy idea 
that she wants to join a ski patrol in Colorado
when she grows up."

"Uh huh.. uh huh.." Cap nodded impatiently.
"When did you last see her?"

"About twenty minutes ago.
Heading up the steps above the 
office block to the rafters lookout level
with Howard.  He's one of the designers 
of the warehouse. I think she wanted to 
see how the crane lifts worked."
 
"What's she look like? Uhh,.. W-What was
she wearing today?" Roy butted in, thinking
how best to get the information they needed 
to mount a more comprehensive search.

" Megan's outfit? Oh, let me see.. Uhh,,.
White. All white. A little girl's T shirt and 
pants. She's got blond hair.. Real short!" 
he shouted after Roy who went running to 
the next team of searchers exchanging out
their spent air bottles for new ones. He found
them near the south entrance of the burning 
plant and he quickly told them of the unexpected 
development.

##Move it, Roy. I'll let you know when
Johnny's ready to ship out over the radio.##
Cap promised over the HT.

Johnny regarded his gurneyed, sooty
companion thoughtfully as Marco finally 
changed out his ventilator mask for a lesser 
flow nasal cannula. Johnny said to the man. 
"I hope she's ok, for your sake, mister. 
I know how it is in there. The roof's real 
unstable." he said.

The plant worker opened his eyes
and regarded the dirty paramedic
looking at him from the ground. "She's 
a good kid. She wouldn't do anything 
stupid like getting caught in a fire.."

Chet tried his best not to chortle
when Gage made a face overhearing
that comment.

"Yeah, well that doesn't change the
fact that Megan's in a whole lotta danger
right now.." Cap said with exasperation.
"The whole place might be about to go up."
he said standing over them both, eyeing
the hustling companies ringing the fire
scene.

"Doubtful.." said the man instantly.
"Howard has always said that nothing short
of an atom bomb would set off all the special
stuff we got in storage."

"What kind of special stuff?" Hank frowned.

"Oh, plastique. Timed nitrite incendiaries.
and some rocket fuel."

"Any TNT or nitroglycerin?" Hank asked.

"Nothing so archaic, Cap. What do we
look like? ACME Plant Central?"
 
---------------------------------------------

Photo :  Night fire crews working
             a suburban California fire.

Photo:  Johnny on the ground at night, hurt.

Photo: Chet and Cap discussing something
            in full turnout at night.

Photo: Cap by the engine at night.

**********************************************
From : "Katherine Bird" <kathbird@hotmail.com>  
Subject : Tightrope Act..  
Date : Wed, 15 Oct 2003 22:12:35 +0100  
 

Roy pelted towards the team headed in, refastening 
his air mask over his face. Already, he was breathing 
hard. ::A kid? I really hate kid calls.:: he quailed mentally.
An equally mental memory surfaced that had Johnny's 
signature all over it. ::Why did you think Cap let you go 
inside again anyway? He knows you're no good to him 
being held back on any kid search at a fire.:: Johnny's
voice seem to say. 

Roy wished that Gage could somehow be with him.
::Right now. We seem to search out a building better working
with the both of us, together..:: Jamming his helmet a little 
further onto his head and flipping up his collar, Roy uptook the 
back end of the fire hose and went with the L.A. city team, 
explaining about the little girl to their anchor man and his orders 
from Cap to find her.

"Where was she last seen?" said a burly man in Pasadena yellow 
at Roy. His mask muffled only a little of the man's dismay.

DeSoto pointed up. "Rafters! Around the auto lifts!"

"Right.." said the front hose man and together, the
four of them fought their way through the roaring
fire towards a set of metal stairs along one wall.

The bitter smell of soaked cardboard and burned
plastics permeated the air and seeped into Roy's
mouth and nose as they hosed down the growing
fire through the metal grating of the stairway. "This
air's hardly breathable, even with a mask on. 
I hope they're still alive.." he thought.

At the top of the landing, they found Howard. He
had fallen and Roy knew even before he peeled off
a glove for a pulse check that the man was already
dead. ::Broken neck.::  He felt the cool blistered skin
and confirmed the lack of a pulse in seconds. 
He hastily pulled his glove back on and shook his head 
in the negative at the others who were wishfully fanning
a wash over him and the body. 

One of the firemen broke away from the hose to heft 
up Howard onto his shoulders and he began heading 
towards the nearest hole in the walls where they could 
all see fire engine lights wavering in the orange glowing
darkness around the smoke.

The recovery group pushed higher up
along meshed stairs stretching towards the faraway
ceiling and the rafter walkways there. Several suspended
paths were canted and swaying, full of burning debris.
"We can't go this way. Turn around and go back
one landing. I think I remember another way up there !" 
said the front fireman.

Soon, they found themselves on a second clear landing
with two paths available. One way led into a wall of heat,
far too much for anything still living to endure; the other
dipped into unexpected night coolness. 

::This must be the open part left behind from the section 
of roof that fell on Johnny.:: Roy reasoned. He shot ahead, 
through the advancing hose spray and into that second choice
of blackness, pulling off his mask's straps. "Megan! Can you 
hear me?"

DeSoto's voice echoed around the sagging and violated,
partially melted beams, over the din of the flames, eerily. 

There was no reply. 

Roy turned a one eighty in place, keeping a hand on a fireman's
jacket for reference, and shouted again in the direction of 
the second side of factory ceiling walkways. He took a breath 
from his mask as he listened tensely for any reply.
"Megan!! Shout if you can so we can find you!"

He was about to motion the search team to move up
to the next level when a treble echo of sound filtered 
through, bouncing off angles and hollows, barely audible
over the snap and crackle of the nearby inferno.

 "Hold it. Hold it.. Did you hear that?" Roy asked
the other firemen. They all nodded that they did, 
and the lead man started shutting off the hose
to listen, too.

"Megan?!" Roy shouted again, turning slightly to
his left in the choking darkness.

Then the cry came again, clearer and more
frightened. "Help! Help! I'm over here!"

"Keep shouting! We're coming!" Roy said, pulling
on his mask again as they all picked up the heavy
hose in double time to beat out the flames between
them and the little girl.

"H-Hurry.. I .. Howard's gone.. He...He slipped and
fell away from me. I can't see him anywhere.."
came Megan's weak, strained voice.

::She doesn't know that he was killed.:: Roy thought. 
::Good.::"Megan.. what's around you?" Roy shouted at 
her. "We're trying to get nearer to where you are."

"A roof crane is hanging down. It's got a burning box on it!
I'm.. I'm  scared!  I want daddy.."

All three men whirled, studying the flame rippling ceiling
until they spotted the only ceiling lift, still swaying in the heat
with a chained payload.   It was sixty feet in front of them.

"There.. There!" Roy pointed. They could see Megan 
reaching out to them from where she lay on her stomach,
partially hidden in the smoke. Her white clothes stood
out under their flashlights.

The firemen ran. But the head hose man suddenly whirled,
dropping the spraying hose to suddenly press them all back 
into the fiery stairwell where they had just come from. "Hold it 
hold it.. The floor's gone! " he shouted, urgently peeling off his 
steamed air mask. 

The others all did the same to hear and see him better as the 
man pointed downwards with a gloved hand. 

They all had come two steps away from joining Howard
in death.

A section of the suspended metal mesh walkway was missing, 
melted clean away by the intensity of the fire's heat, burning far 
below them. Fifteen feet of yawning space separated them from 
the groggy little girl. 

"Now what?" Roy hissed in frustration. "We don't have time to go 
back for any belts or rope. She isn't gonna last that long."

"Let me think.." said the lieutenant who had been leading the hose
team.  He studied their surroundings carefully, rubbing
his chin.  Roy felt valuable seconds scrape by like an unwanted 
snowstorm.

As they watched and yelled out encouragements 
to Megan to hang on just a little longer while they figured out
how to reach her, Megan's grasping hand slowly dropped 
as she passed out from the thickening smoke.  

"Megan?" Roy shouted out to her. But the little girl's
tiny form, stayed still and unmoving. 

The swaying walkway suddenly shifted as its chains
weakened and the unconscious little girl slid along the 
grating until her head and arms flopped over the edge of 
the walkway precariously, as she rolled.

All the firemen on the other side flung out arms as if to 
catch her."Oh, no.. Don't you dare!" shouted the lieutenant,
looking up.

By some miracle, the large buckle on Megan's rainbow
colored belt caught on a torn off bolt and halted her forward 
momentum before her waist, too, could go over the edge,
and she jerked to a halt, her sooty blond hair swaying.

The firemen let out the breaths they were collectively holding.

Roy started to breathe faster in worry. He was
already sweating. "Look. Let's cut our lifeline
and use that to rig a harness. We can tie it off over 
that beam up above and swing across." he suggested,
taking another breath of air from his mask.

The lieutenant's head canted. "Cut our lifeline? It's
our only means outta here.."

"What other choice do we have?" Roy said angrily. 
"The next chain that snaps may be the one that
dumps her. Besides, she's already out and you know 
how fast kids go down when they quit breathing. One 
of us has to get over there to her to prevent that. Now."

The lieutenant no longer delayed. He got on his HT.
"HT 10 to Battalion 14."

##Go, HT 10.## came the fast reply from the chief.

"We've located the third victim and a child. He's
the fatality that came out to you a few minutes ago 
and she's still inaccessible! Chief, we're going to use 
our buddy line to reach her.."

A long pause followed over the open frequency as
Battalion 14 weighed the risks. ##All right. Do what you
have to do, men.  I'm sending in another team to meet
you with a new line that you all can follow out. What's your 
location?##

Roy lifted his HT. "About the middle of the main room,
at the top of the only metal stairway not collapsed yet.
It's right above where Johnny Gage was trapped."

##10 - 4. Watch for the others and be careful.  We're talking 
demolition out here if the fire spreads out much more than it 
already has. The high risk rooms are now in serious jeopardy. ## 
came the gruff worried reply. ## You have six minutes. Tops.
Then I'm ordering you all out of there.##

"Understood.." Roy answered. "We'll radio once we've
gotten to her.. HT 51 out.." and he pushed down his radio
antennae to shove the talkie back into his jacket.
"Six minutes..." he mumbled to himself. "That's no
time at all.."

------------------------------------------------------

Photo :  Roy in a helmet looking up
              in a warehouse, worried.

Photo:  Two masked airbottled firemen
              with a hose in a closeup inside
              a building.

Photo:   Aerial view of firemen in a basket
              over fire, looking down.

Photo :  Battalion 14 on an HT closeup.

Photo :  Firemen rushing with a hose
              into a smoky building.

Photo :  A fully involved burning warehouse
              with melting infrastructure in the
              foreground.

***********************************************
From:   "Linda Taggatz" <doc51@att.net> 
Date:  Thu Oct 16, 2003  10:39 pm
Subject:  Megan's Rescue.


Outside another idea was hatched.  Stoker suggested 
using the snorkel to rescue her.
 
"How?' asked Captain Stanley.
 
"By raising it to where she's caught and lowering  
a line down to Roy and helping him get to her.
 
"Good idea! Let's try it."
 
Captain Stanley got on the H.T. and requested it.
  
The snorkel was moved into place and the line lowered 
to Roy. He hooked his life belt on to the line then swung 
across to Megan.
 
He checked her. The pulse was faint but there. He quickly 
freed her and put his oxygen mask on her. Then he signaled 
on the H.T. for the snorkel to lift them out of there.

---------------------------------------------------------------

Photos :  None.

*****************************************************
Date: Sat, 18 Oct 2003 06:01:11 -0700 (PDT) 
From: "Sam Iam" <lafddispatcher@yahoo.com>  
Subject:  The Towering Inferno.. 
 
::I owe someone a huge dinner for this idea.:: Roy thought
as he adjusted the portable oxygen tank more firmly
into the lowered stokes for Megan's emergency lift out. ::Someone 
was thinking on their toes when they thought of including that 
lifebelt, too, with the stokes. I was stupid for not bringing one 
in with me::  Roy sighed in relief as he hugged her against his 
chest. A paternal pang gripped him unexpectedly. ::She feels 
just like my daughter.:: came the thought, unbidden and
his grip about her tightened protectively as he continued
to feel how effectively she was breathing.

Just as rapidly, Roy's professional side kicked in. 
::Cool it! The clock is still ticking down before the chief 
orders that complete evac of the building. Don't lose 
this opportunity for Megan by getting lost in your emotions.
Extricate her and move on...:: his practical mind
set demanded. ::Mull over it later.::

Gasping, Roy did the work. Then he lifted his head, sighting 
along the swaying rope as far as he could through the column 
of smoke disappearing into the midnight sky. "HT 51 to Snorkel 
One. I've got her strapped down and on the O2!" he shouted 
through his own air mask over the roar of the distant fire far below. 
"She's breathing and set to go! Take up the slack!" And he
started to hook his belt's fastener onto the stokes line.

The reply back from the basket was a very welcome 
surprise. Mike Stoker answered, immediately easing
Roy's rising stress over his still very real and present
danger. But that quiet calm voice was tinged with an 
unmistakable stab of worry..## Affirmative, HT 51. Hold 
up on tandem rappelling. The snorkel engineer says we're 
at maximum reach and extension and on the edge for balance. 
We can only take your victim!## his voice crackled through 
the heat from the talkie's speaker.

DeSoto could just imagine Stoker's masked
figure leaning over the edge of the basket trying
to peer down through the thick billowing smoke
rising up between them. ::I wonder how he fanaggled
that company for the ride up? Most likely, Cap pulled
some rank because I'm still in here in the hot seat.::
Roy realized. ::They must be real tippy reaching 
this far over the factory to the hole in the roof. No matter.
Megan's first and no one with me will debate that.::
   
Quickly, Roy connected the four stokes straps without
hesitation and he yanked on the guide lines firmly to
reinforce what he said open HT. "Understood. She's 
secured and good for go!" he shouted, tugging three
times on her stretcher's rope over his helmet. Then
he swung back across the gap using the snorkel's
grace line and off the rickety walkway back to his 
companions in the stairwell. "They'd better move fast.
If the rest of that roof goes, the sparking plume and
fire resulting from that will catch them." he said to
the lieutenant.

The lieutenant grinned. "I'm Irish, 51. And I've got
fifty saints watching over me that say that roof's
gonna park until we clear ourselves completely."

Roy grinned as he watched Megan's stokes get
hand to hand rope lifted out of the blazing warehouse.
"Make that a hundred patron saints, 10. I'm Irish, too.
Come on, let's get out of here before we boil."

Slowly, the three firefighting men retraced the route
down through the inky smoke along the shaky gutted stairs 
infrastructure until they met up with the second team 
Battalion 14 sent in to fetch them on a new buddy line.
 
They were six strong and moving on ground level
when a hail came out. "Battalion 14 to HT 51 and 
Snorkel 1. Got your victim clear?" 

##Affirmative!## Roy replied at the same time that
Stoker's voice echoed the same from the lowering 
basket outside. 

Then just as fast, a priority break-in-transmission shot 
over their HT open frequency with a harsh squeal.
##To all units! Get clear! Get clear! The roof's caving 
in over the labs! ##

An immediate reply from the new firefighters with
Roy and his team, anticipated Battalion 14's next
hail and beat it coming. "Team Two to Battalion
14. We're ok. We're with Team One.."

##Copy..## said the chief from outside. ##Find
a way outta there. The demolition crew's almost
completed their setup. They have to blow their
charges to snuff out that side of the fire before any 
of the labs integrity seals are compromised. I give you
two minutes..##

:: The east exit's blocked off? Oh no..:: Roy quailed
in his head.::That was our only known way out.:: The 
lieutenant and the others pounded down the stairs, 
abandoning the charged water hose like a spooked 
puppy with a live snake. Their air bottles and tanks rattled 
almost as loudly as the fire's flames as they ran for 
their lives. 

Roy didn't even think about what kind of h*ll would 
greet them when they reached the bottom of the stairs....

The lieutenant led the way to the last landing. He
paused, setting a bare hand on the door once more
and feeling around on its metal surface for sensations
of heat. He grimaced and pulled his hand away before
he dragged it twelve inches. "It's hot.. Go back up. We'll
try the dolly freight. I remember passing it just before
we found this stairwell."

The men ran, trusting their superior's memory of the
trip in. 

"There..!" said the irish lieutenant, pulling off his mask
and pointing. Only a little debris and a few flaming
timbers lay across the door. These the firefighters
kicked away and rapidly, they took out their jacket
halligans and jimmeyed the double metal doors ajar
to lift the cage barrier of the elevator. "In! In! We'll
crank her to the ground level and wait it out!"

Roy startled.. "Wait what out?" he asked. The faces
on the others reflected his dismay.

"The explosion.." the lieutenant said grimly. "According
to my watch we have less than a minute and a half
to clear, and there's no way in h*ll we're gonna do that."

DeSoto nodded, biting his lip. "If we close these doors,
all this metal will provide some shielding."

The Lt. nodded. "Uh huh.. and it won't matter if the 
shaft cables snap in the concussion because we'll
already be at the bottom.. Come on, put some muscle
into it!" he roared at the men on top of the car,
using their halligans to release the brake enough for
the car to slide with a thunk to the ground stops.
"Now, in!! Get that ceiling panel shut. Lock it off
with a tool. The back pressure may blow it free."

Soon, the freights doors were jammed tight with
tools and rope and they were flung into total darkness.
One of the team switched on a jacket torch and all
eyes focused on where ever its beam wandered.

The Lt. radioed out. "We're in the elevator shaft
under shelter. Good to go." he reported to the Battalion
Chief.

## Read you. Glad you thought of the shaft. Stand by.##
There was a pause. ## I don't have to tell you men that
you may become trapped inside of there by debris
landing in front of the doors. Your air bottles may run
out before we can cut you free..##

"Better carrion than char, Chief.. You'll get us out.
New bottles for us can be lowered down the shaft
using the snorkel after the debris cloud dissipates."

##Good luck, Lt.##

"Same to you. Let's hope those demolition experts
really know their stuff.. Team One and Two, out."

##Battalion 14, out.  Forty five seconds..##

Roy felt the countdown through every fiber of
his being. His thoughts turned to Joanne, Johnny
and his family. He only dimly heard the lieutenant
offering advice. 

"I've been through one of these once before. The building,
if it goes down, will spare collapsing the elevator shaft
like they usually do chimneys in these things. Now crouch 
down, and open your mouths and plug your nose or the 
pressure wave will shred your eardrums!"

One of the younger men looked pale behind his
air mask as they all placed their backs against
the wall. "Will it hurt much?" he said with a brave
smile.

"Only if you forget to do what I just instructed."
The lieutenant pulled off his mask and took in
an experimental breath of air before Roy could
stop him. "Air's still good. Try to conserve your
bottles afterwards." he said putting his mask back on
and hunkering down in his jacket and helmet.

::That's if we're still here..:: Roy's mind added 
mercilessly. More quiet advice, calmed him
and the others.

"Cover your face with your arms and huddle down.
Bound to be a lot of dust. Tie off with rope if you have
to. The lift may jostle more than just a little bit."

Roy hooked his gloves on a grip bar above
his head and held on.

Tick. tick. ...tick....    ::Nineteen. Eighteen. Seventeen..::
thought Roy. He had been counting ever since the
chief's numeric cue over the HT.

DeSoto jumped when his bottle started sounding off
a low air hooter. He shut his off and held his breath.
::I'll buddy breathe with someone else when this is
all over.::

The men fell silent, alone with only their own thoughts
as sweat fogged up their masks, rendering them blind.

Roy opened his mouth...and closed his eyes.
::See you soon, Joanne. It's just another day at the office.::

Three... Two....One.........

A horribly deep, gurgling growl of air belched like
a demonic beast around them, heralding the arrival
of destructive forces unleashed by the demolitions team.

The firemen flinched as a gust of non air ripped around 
them from all four sides inwardly towards them. The pressure
kick whitened out their retinas making them gasp in pain when
an intense searing stab of yellow light preceded it.

A wash of heat cooked the walls in a blast and made
the men recoil from their firm surfaces as the elevator
bed bounced and jerked from the brunt of the explosion.

There were five blast waves, the last of which was the most
violent. It left them bruised and battered.

Roy opened his eyes and realized that the elevator
bed had canted. "The whole shaft's been tilted. Don't
touch that panel!  It's sparking!" he said when he heard
spitting electricity from the direction of the phone box
near the floor. 

He felt an air mask being pressed into his gloves 
from a neighbor and he took a grateful breath of rushing air.
He tried to pass it back but a voice said. "No, keep it.
I'll share with Karl here. You need it more than I, being
a medic. The situation's changed completely."

"Thanks.." Roy slid the new mask back on to see through 
the choking dust.  His hands and legs were shaking so
bad with shock that he could barely move. "Sound off!" 
he ordered, hunting for casualities. He wondered why
their team leader was so quiet.

The young, scared fireman shouted. "The Lieutenant!
He's down!" 

"Where?"

"Here. Follow my voice. I got my hand on his stomach."

"Is he breathing?"

"Yeah.."

The flashlight's circle of light moved to Roy's left,
illuminating a yellow Pasadena jacket. DeSoto
felt up the man's neck and located a bounding carotid
and another sweep of the light revealed a small bloody
cut on the man's head. 

Roy's simple move to open the man's airway made him stir. 

"Easy. You're fine. You must have hit your head on a wall. 
It's over..." Roy soothed, he turned his head as if
he could see in the thick dust floating in the air around him. 
"Anyone else hurt?" he asked, taking over charge 
of the two teams. "Say yes or no.."

All "no's" spoke up in the darkness.

Roy kneeled, getting closer to the lieutenant
and he peeled off the man's air mask gingerly,
he accepted the flashlight someone handed him
and tried not to tremble. "Lieutenant?"

"Please,, call me O'Malley.." he mumbled.
"P-Patrick..." he groaned, keeping his eyes
closed from the brightness of the torch.

"Do you hurt anywhere else besides your
head? Here, breathe through this mask by
hand. I just had to loosen these straps so
I could check you out."

"I...I think I'm fine.. Just...just..not all there yet."

"You just rest easy. They'll get us out in
rapid order.." Roy sighed. "Try not to sleep.
You may have a concussion from what I'm
seeing here.."

"Got it.." the man whispered. "Am I the only one
with a few lumps?"

Roy nodded. "Yeah.."

"Good.. I'll have some battle scars to go with
my other ones.. Oooo.." he said, squinching up
in sudden pain.

"What? Your head?" Roy asked him quickly.

"No..*gasp*.. both my shoulders. Right up
under my collar bone. Hurts..."

::That's belly involvement..:: DeSoto pegged
immediately.

Roy moved the flashlight down and 
several hands unbuckled O'Malley's
jacket to bare the area. Roy found some
dark stains spreading in the dimness.
::Blood... There's trouble here all right..::

Then his bare hand found why. Patrick
had a halligan impaled through his side.

"Don't move. You've stabbed yourself.."

"What?" O'Malley groaned, breathing shallowly,
inside his mask.

"A halligan. The one from your jacket. Doesn't
look too bad. Upper left quadrant. It's buried 
only about three inches down."

"Take it out!" Patrick quailed.

"Not on your life. That may be stopping a lot
of internal bleeding and it probably missed
everything major. I still have good pulses in
your legs and the bleeding's only sluggish."
DeSoto said.

Patrick lay still. "Well, looks like I'll have to
listen to you for the rest of this one."

"Looks like. Don't worry. We both have something
in common here." Roy smiled large enough for
his patient to see through both their masks.

"What's that?"

"We're both good at not losing people. You physically
and me medically.."

Patrick smiled and laughed. He immediately grimaced
when the halligan moved. "Don't make me laugh.."

"I certainly won't make you cry.." DeSoto promised.

"I'm counting on it.." Patrick grunted.

"You're doing fine.." Roy said, then he
looked up as cool night air suddenly filtered down
inside the elevator shaft and washed away the
suffocating plaster dust they had endured.
"We're in the open, that's outside air coming in.
We can take off our masks. The rest of you not
helping me, see if you can reopen that door."

--------------------------------------------------------------------
Twenty five minutes later, all the firefighters were
free and a very dusty Roy sat next to his partner in
the Mayfair rig en route to Rampart.

Johnny Gage opened his eyes and wrinkled his
nose at the plastery sour smoke smell coming off
Roy's shirt. "Wough.. Somebody needs a shower.
Real bad."

Roy smiled. "I'll get one. Can't stay smelling like
roses when you're waiting for a powder keg to go
off under your feet.."

Johnny paled. "You were inside when those guys
blew the fire around the labs?" he said, his
eyes getting wide inside of his long board's wraps
and straps.

"Yep.." Roy grinned.

"Oh, Roy... Joanne's gonna kill you when she finds out."

"No she won't. "

"Why not?"

"Because if she does, I'll tell her the reason why I was
in there in the first place."

It was Johnny's turn to smile. "You guys found Megan."

"Sure did."

"Well, all right.." Johnny said, trying to lace his fingers
around the back of his head, but his IV line and backboard
encumberances prevented him from doing it. He grunted
in frustration, giving it up. Then he eyeballed the red stains
on Roy's jacket and hands. "Any of that yours?"

"Nope. Lt. O'Malleys. And he's gonna be fine after a little
patch up surgery."

"What happened?"

"He argued with the wrong end of a halligan while the explosion
was going on. It got him through the spleen most
likely.."

Johnny gripped his own stomach in sympathy. "Ooo,
that's gotta smart getting stuck down there.."

"Not according to him.  Patrick said he just had some 
referred pain going up into his shoulders and that's all."

"huh.. gotta remember those symptoms.." Gage said
honestly.

"Speaking of symptoms, how are you doing?"

"Fine. How's the little girl you got out?"

"You mean whom Stoker got out.."

"Stoker?"

"Yeah,... he commandeered a snorkel bucket
and we stretchered her out before the demo
guys blew out the building."

"Heheheh. That's thinking on your feet."

"Yeah.. I was impressed." Roy admitted.
"Megan's gonna be just fine. She was
just a little suffocated from all the bad air
she took in. She's headed to Rampart
with Squad 10."

"That's good. Then I'll probably get to meet
her in the hallway or something waiting to
be seen. I remember how busy the ER
was before we got this call. It might still be
that way.."

"Yeah, well, I don't think you're gonna be waiting
too long, partner. You've had a history of
vomiting and unconsciousness." Roy chided.

"I feel fine.."

"I'm not the one who needs convincing. Tell that
to the doctors.."

"I will, believe me.."

"Of that I have no doubt.." Roy said, cleaning
up his skin with some saline from a bottle.
"Try to get some rest. We're almost there."

-----------------------------------------------------------------------------

Photo:  A snorkle extending over a burning roof at night.

Photo:  A midnight flaming warehouse.

Photo: Roy DeSoto close up in dusty light.

******************************************************************
From :  Katherine Bird <kathbird01@yahoo.co.uk> 
Sent :  Thursday, December 11, 2003 11:48 PM 
Subject :  Right Moves and Night Moves... 

Offstory- 
My gratitude to Audrey, WolfLynneKK@aol.com,
the ETL Pediatrics Consultant for her aid in helping
me with smoke inhalation lab work and with the temperment
and personality of nine year olds in general.

Onstory-
"Roy,.. how's she doing?" Dr. Brackett asked
as he met the rolling gurney holding the unconscious
nine year old Megan from the explosives fire in a nest
of backboard  straps, O2 lines and IV tubing.

Roy indicated Dwyer to his left. "Better ask
Stan here. He's the one who brought her in.
I had Johnny."

Kel looked up at the man from Station Ten.

"Meagan's doing fine, so far, doc." Dwyer piped up.  
"She's still pulling air. Glasgow's five though.
BP's 84 over 60. Rate off the bag here's ten.
Pulse 132. Pupils still sluggish but equal and reactive."
the other paramedic replied.

"Any head involvement or other trauma?" Kel said, glancing at
the child's face and nose around the ambu's mask looking
for swelling and redness under the ashy soot he saw there.

"None. We all saw her just pass out slowly onto a metal walkway."
Roy answered for Dwyer.

"What kind of fire was she in, Roy?" the dark haired doctor said, 
holding the door to Treatment Three open as orderlies
maneuvered both Gage and Megan's beds into the same
room together.

"In a clean flaming one, burning explosives. We found her 
amid complete incendiaries and others that were unassembled 
from labs, from what I saw. Doc, I wouldn't doubt those scientists 
had all the usual chemical building blocks necessary to make an 
entire military arsenal. A real toxic soup. You should see our hats,doc.
That smoke turned our helmet numbers green." DeSoto said 
cryptically.

"Really? Green's a good color.." Gage piped up.

"Shh..." Dwyer hissed at Johnny. "Let them work or
do I have to come over there with a bite stick." he warned
teasingly.

Brackett and DeSoto never even heard the humor going
on behind them.  Roy went on with more information.
"She was inside for about twenty minutes, near the 
ceiling of a warehouse on a catwalk."

Kel rubbed his chin thoughtfully.
"Hmm, bound to be a lot of nitrates and cyanide created 
in that kind of blaze if I picked up any kind of hazmat
know how from listening to you fellas all the time." 

"That's a sure bet." Gage coughed from his gurney.
 
Dr. Brackett regarded his tiny patient steadily
as he unbound Megan's cushioning C-collar and listened 
around her oral airway for breath and lung sounds. "No rhonci or
rales yet. But I'm hearing a bit of bronchiospasm on the
left side. Roy, Stan, do I have parental consent to treat this
child? I didn't see anyone here with you guys in the hallway."

"You do." Roy said. "We got it verbally at the fire. 
The father's on his way in on another ambulance for mild smoke 
inhalation.  Mr. Miller specifically told us to tell you to go 
ahead with Megan's treatment sight unseen. And Vince 
witnessed that statement being given first hand."

Kelly Brackett smiled crookedly. "Wouldn't it be
nice if all future parental care authorizations can go as smoothly
as this one has?" he quipped  ironically.  
"Dix, draw blood on her for an ABG, have the lab run 
a full creatinine series with a BUN. Also electrolytes. 
Tell them to also check for elevated HbCO  and CN levels as well.
When you're done,  run a nebulizer to that ventilator you're setting up 
and give her 2.5 mg of .5% solution Albuterol in a 2.5 ml saline push. 
I want to get her lung perfusion a little higher than what we're achieving 
manually. I'm not satisfied her capillary refill's being truthful here. 
Keep the bird's vents on the low end. I don't want atelectasis setting 
in on top of her other problems." 

"Right away, Kel." Dixie replied.

"And have the pharmacy prepare a peds dose of Sodium Nitrite
IV.  I want to chase some of that cyanide out of her
blood before any rhabdomyolysis gets a foothold. Also
schedule a session in our hyperbaric chamber. She'll
only blow out all her hemoglobin bound carbon monoxide faster 
that way I think. Anything to shorten the CO's half life inside 
her body. But first, let's see how she's managing."

Dixie nodded.

Dr. Brackett glanced at Dwyer. "Get her patched in, Stan.
I wanna see that tachycardia written out now."

Stan nodded and efficiently got a two lead EKG connected
to the comatose child.

Everyone in the room held their breaths while Brackett read
the strip that was whistling audible warbles into the bustling
silence. "She's got a stable rhythm. I think I like it all things
considering.  Gage, how are you doing?" Kel asked
of his second patient, without looking up.

"*Cough!* Nothing that an ice pack for my nosebleed won't fix.
You concentrate on that little girl there first." Johnny complained.
"My condition's unremarkable."

"He was out for a while doc.." Roy said rolling his eyes, refusing
to play coverup.

Johnny shot Roy a betrayed hurt look laced with a seething anger
that Gage immediately broke off when Kel moved over to his
bed to begin his examination. "Uh huh".. Brackett said, looking
onto Johnny's nose and eyes with a penlight. "Dix. Call X-ray...."
he said, placing an ice bag over Johnny's nasal bridge.

Roy interrupted,.." ..for a chest film on Megan and a full skull series
on Johnny."  At Brackett's and Dixie's surprised looks, he blushed 
and said, "I - I already told them on the way in here.." he 
gestured at the door. "I had nothing better to do so I anticipated
a few things." 

Brackett scowled, sourly cross. "Crazy paramedics think they 
can practice medicine without a license behind their training 
physician's back." His harsh frown fell away into a mischievious 
wink. "Good call, Roy. Exactly what I would've done. Did you also
draw up a syringe of 1 ml succinylcholine in case we have to paralyze
Megan here for an endotracheal intubation if she loses any more
tidal volume?"

Roy held up his left hand from its needle guarded position
next to Dixie's shoulder a little higher, complete with alcohol
soaked cotton ball folded under a pinkie.

Kel chortled and began laughing.
"G*d I love the paramedic program. Why did I ever think
that it wouldn't work, Miss McCall?" he sighed with amusement.

"Because you were stubborn, opinionated and slow to change
at the time, Doctor Brackett." Nurse Dixie said evenly. 
"Took everything I had to bring you around.."

Brackett cleared his throat. "Ehem.. well.."
getting suddenly uncomfortable. "I didn't
think the men could handle what a doctor
could do then, Dix. I'll be frank about that.
It took that miracle, and you, to convince me
to speak in committee to reverse my mindset
that night."

Gage's mouth flopped open. "Is that true, doc? You 
voted against us in the beginning?"  he said, pushing
Kel's hand and penlight away. "I hadn't heard anything
about that at all." he said incredulously. "Man, what
were you thinking? Roy and I were sticking our
legal necks out for you in the field, pulling nurses out
from under falling cars,... and defibrillating with experimental
equipment in mud raining tunnels,.. and -and you had
the gall to think we were out of our scope doing 
what you sent us out there to do all along?"

"Gage! Hush or I'll order an arterial blood gas on you, too."
said Brackett sternly in an attempt to be funny. It failed
miserably.

Johnny quieted down instantly. 

"Now, where was I?" he demanded of Gage.

Johnny just gaped like a fish, cowed, thinking
better of even opening his mouth.

Roy licked his lips, suffering pangs for Johnny's trapped 
status. "Secondary assessment, doc."

"Oh yeah.. that's right. Does this hurt?" Kel said
impishly light in a countering move. He began 
probing Johnny's ribs firmly with both hands, knowing
that it would fiercely tickle the ticklish young paramedic
where he couldn't stop him because of the long board's
complete arm and leg immobilization ability.

"Nope.." Johnny squeaked five octaves higher than 
normal around his oxygen mask.

"Well, how about here, down a little lower?" Kel asked 
threatening to quadrant check Johnny's belly with air 
wriggling fingers hovering inches away from their target,
his eyes flashing dangerously amused.

"ReallyI'mfinedoc.Notraumawhatsoever.Ishouldknow.
I thinkmytongue'sgoingnumbtoorightaboutnow."
he chipmunked chirped, making a face of unhappy
anticipation.  

Dixie laughed in her throat. "Nothing can torment a patient
more than ten fingers fully versed on the human nervous
system. Leave off, Kel. The first amendment's still honored 
in this country or have you forgotten about it in your old age."

"I'm not old!  But I will admit to be an expert. " Brackett
said straightening to move out of the way of the
X-ray people. "And experts deserve a little privacy.
...including what I might have thought in the past about a
certain brand new county program beginning with a "p" and 
ending in with a "c" five years ago. Do I make myself clear?"
he said to the only one wearing a white skirt in the room.

Dixie nodded in grudging agreement. "Ok, you win.
...this time." she added under her breath. "But what
happened back then is all moot anyway. Don't be
so sore about it. Roy proves his worth every day.
So does Johnny. You just celebrated an example
of it a few minutes ago."

Brackett pretended he didn't hear his head nurse at
all and he let his good natured smile fully return.
 "Gage, I'll be merciful this time." Kel said rapping a 
knuckle on johnny's chest strap buckle. "I'm gonna take an 
action that might make those inappropriate verbal comments 
I'm hearing from the peanut gallery go away. I have a new 
theory developing right now that spineboard belts interfere 
with blood flow to the brain in people not needing neck and back 
immobilization. So I'm gonna have the orderlies spring you from 
this contraption right now right after the Xray technicians get my 
chest and head films on both you and the girl.."

Johnny sighed in relief...

"And, after their one hour lunch break of course.."

Gage's eyes widened in immediate dismay.
"WhaatT ?!"

"I'm just kidding, Johnny. Really. That was a little bedside humor
working there. Dixie keeps telling me to practice improving 
upon it all the time. So I just did. Dwyer. Free him while I finish
up here on our favorite hose jockey.." Brackett winked.  " And Dix, 
see what you can do to get these two upstairs. We've a full 
waiting room outside."

McCall nodded. "I think I can pull off another miracle, Kel.
Unlike changing the mind of a doctor, that's gonna be 
an easy one."

---------------------------------------------------------------------------
 
::A little bedside humor..:: Gage thought morosely of
his very active companion in the darkened bed next to
him. ::There can be too much of a good thing. :: And he
gave out a long sigh while he endured another round
of chatter from his tiny, now familiar roommate.
::Why did I have to be transferred to pediatrics?:: he
thought fervently shifting onto his side, pulling a pillow
over his face to shut out Megan's non stop singing
and questions. 

"And those jokes..." Johnny moaned as a crack in
the doorway to his room opened, admitting Dixie
McCall.

"What about those jokes.. I happen to like them.."
she purred, walking nearer to their beds with a silver
tray that contained a few things. "So be nice, ok?"
she addressed Johnny. "I traded a few minutes with
Cheryl so I could check up on you two.. Hiya Megan.
Feeling a bit better?"

"Oh, yes maam.." Megan said brightly. "Daddy just
left and look what he left me! More coloring books!"
she displayed her stack, thunking them noisely down 
onto her bedside tray where she began to scribble 
vigorously on the first of them with a well used green pen.

Johnny pulled the blanket down from around his head
and said, "Really, coloring books? I don't suppose you'd
like to share.." he mumbled. "I'd give anything to do
something else around here besides watching the late 
show." he said dryly.

"OK." Megan piped up. "Lady, you can give the fire
man that one with the trucks. That's boy's stuff."

Dixie raised her eyebrows in an "isn't that something"
look of her tiny new friend and she handed over the
book to Gage with a tiny bow. 

Gage glanced over at Megan. "Hey.. Psst.."

Megan looked up from the horse she was coloring
so carefully with her ink pen. "What?"

"Am I supposed to color here with my fingers?"
Johnny said crankily. He didn't care that Dixie
was asking him non verbally to distract Megan
away from another blood sample syringe
she was preparing for the child.

Megan just sighed and ignored him.

Gage sighed a likewise sigh and snaked out
a hand and grabbed out the green pen from
in between the child's fingers. "Thanks, kid."

"Hey!"

"Hey what?"

"That's MY pen."

"So?" Gage guffawed. "I happen to really like green.
It's my favorite color. Gotta problem with that?"

"Yeah. I had it first."

"Yeah, well I'm bigger so live with it."

Dixie fired a glare at Johnny for not helping
build a feeling of good will in advance with Megan
to aid her cause but immediately turned all soft 
and bubbly when the girl glanced up at her.

"Lady, tell the rude fire man it's not nice to grab."
Megan frowned.

"Mister Gage. " Dixie said. "Our little gal is
absolutely in the right." she said pleasantly.
"Now give it back.." she said heavily dark while
smiling. 

"Oh, all right.. Here.  But I doubt you're gonna
wanna hold that once she's through with you."

"When who's through with me?"

Dixie's looks could have killed Johnny, but
he had the sense to not tempt "medusa's"
gaze. "Me, I'm afraid, honey. Mister Gage told
the truth there. ...If a bit bluntly.." she hissed under
her breath at the gowned paramedic. "I have
to get a sample for the lab Megan."

Megan squealed and ran to Gage's bed and 
kneeled on his pillow, grabbing his head in a death's
grip while she put him between herself and the needle
wielding head nurse. Johnny barely grabbed her IV stand
to keep it from pulling the Ringer's line out of her arm.

"Oh come now, Megan, it's not going to be that bad.
I happen to be very good at this. Now which
arm do you want your shot in?"

"Yours..!" Megan insisted, pointing at Dixie.

Gage burst out laughing. "That is a viable option, Dix."

"Oh, stop.." Dixie half frowned and grinned.

Johnny wrapped his arms around Megan and brushed
her blond hair out of her eyes, "No chance of
taking a red top out of her IV?"

"Nope. We need another ABG."

"Ooooo." Gage said softly, pulling Megan around
until she sat on the bed next to him. Then he took
a breath and said. "Tell you what? You let Dixie get
that sample and I'll teach you some jokes that you
can tell all of your friends when you get out of here,
ok? Do we have a deal?" 

Megan grunted in protesting dismay only once but 
then her older personality began to reassert itself.
"I guess. Daddy's always said it takes some hurt
to feel better about things sometimes."

"Good girl." Dixie said. "Now park it over here."
The head nurse said, tapping on Megan's blankets.
"Mister Gage can hold your hand while I'm doing
this if you'd like. He's a paramedic and he sees
lab samples drawn by me all the time. He knows how 
to get little girls through so they don't feel much."

"Really?"

"Really."

"Ok. He can come over.."
Megan whispered tearfully, turning her head away 
so she couldn't see anything while she placed her 
left arm onto her bed stand tray. 

Gage drew himself around Megan in a bearhug.
"Hi... Guess what Megan?"

"What?" she sniffed, breathing in tight sobs.

"The snuggle monster's here."

"W-What does he do?"

"This.." and Gage snatched her wrist up to his lips and 
farted a noise from his mouth loudly against her skin. 

Megan laughed in squeaky birdlike mirth, showing a gap 
tooth in front.

"And you know what else?"

Megan's face shifted and fell from fear of Dixie's syringe to 
laughing hide and seek anticipation of Gage's next trick and 
back again, but nodded, unable to speak.

"Why did the chicken cross the road?" Gage asked.

Megan rolled her eyes nervously and sniffed.
"That one's dumb. To get to the other side."

"Oh yeah, are you calling my funnies stupid?"

Megan giggled... a little.

"Ok, answer me this.."

"What? Owww..."

"Shhh, Dixie's almost through, hon, then we can play all night.. 
Why did the chicken cross the basketball court ?"

Megan stiffened but Johnny held her arm still so she
wouldn't move it dangerously. "Ow. Ow..! It hurts."

"Why did the chicken cross the basketball court, Megan?"
Johnny said a little more insistently but still playfully
bright. "Come on, think about it.."

"I don't know. Ow..! Take it out, Dixie. I don't
want to give a blood sample. I've changed my mind..!"

Gage said,.. "Because he heard the referee calling out
fowls.."

Megan's cry of panicky pain fell into one of hysterical
laughter and she started giggling. "Where did you
hear that one?"

"From Chet Kelly.  He's the bully in my stationhouse.
I- I mean, he's a bully but he's also my friend. In a good
way. "

"owwieee..eee.."

"ok,comeonMegan.Youtellmeone, ok?" Gage whispered
in encouragement as Dixie found the artery at last.

"Okkayy..ouchie!  W- Why did the chicken cross the 
road, roll in the mud and cross the road again ?"

"I don't know. Why?"

Megan tipped her head back gasping and laughing
trying to be brave while Dixie completed her blood
tapping. "Because he was a dirty double-crosser!"

Dixie chortled at that one. "That's new. Tell us
another joke, Megan. The vial's almost full."

"Yes, *sniff* yes maam.. aghHH !  *sob*Why didn't 
t-the chicken skeleton cross the road ?"

"We give up, Megan.." Johnny said, holding
her arm and head still.

"Because he didn't have enough guts!" she
yelled. "Is it over yet?" she sobbed.

"Almost there.." Dixie said.

"One more joke Megan, tell us just
one more. Then we can color some, ok?"
Johnny said seeing Dixie working fast.

"Mister G-Gage." Megan said not looking
at her arm nor the needle there.

"Yeah, Megan?"

"Why did the turtle cross the r-road ?" Megan
hiccupped.

That stymied both nurse and paramedic.

Even long after the cotton was pressed
down and a Scooby Doo bandaid was stuck on 
Megan's arm. 

Megan sighed a deep sigh and coughed
hoarsely, sinking back into her pillow.
"Give up you guys?"

"Yeah.." Johnny said with frustration,
scratching his head.

"To get to the Shell station..." Megan said
matter of factly, grabbing for her coloring book
and the green pen Johnny was too slow to
think to claim.

Dixie's laughter echoed down the hall as
she padded away. "Megan, I promise my
next visit will have no needles."

Gage still didn't get it.

"I got another joke that might be good for
you to tell to your friend Chet, Mister Gage."
Megan said industriously coloring the grass
around her horse.

"Oh? ...what's that?"

"If H 2 0 is on the inside of a fire hydrant, what 
is on the outside?"

"I give up.."

"K 9 P."

"Oh, Megan.. That's gross. " Gage said laughing.

"But it's true.  Dogs like hydrants."

Johnny grimaced and got off Megan's bed
and clambered into his own, pulling back the covers.
"You don't gross out much at icky stuff or that kind of
thing do you?"

"Mister Gage. I got three brothers at home." Megan said
in a no nonsense duhhh tone.

"Oh, uh, ok, then I'll tell you one Chet told me the other
day."

"Ok,.. shoot.. Just make sure it isn't a shot." Megan quipped.

"Deal.. Ok, here goes. Last week,  firemen rescued a 
man who was badly injured in a car accident. 
The entire left half of his body was torn off. He was 
taken to the hospital and examined.... Ready for the 
punch line?"

Megan's mouth was hanging open and she was
grinning ear to ear. She nodded eagerly, 
thoroughly cute faced. "What happened to the man?"

"Oh,.. nothing much, really. The doctors said he 
was all right and the nurses said there wasn't ..much 
left."

Megan's squeal of delight caused more than a few 
heads in the hallway to look up from the pediatric
ward's desk.

----------------------------------------------------------

Photo  :  Roy bagging a child with doctors and nurses
               in a treatment room.

Photo :   A little girl coloring in a hospital bed.

Photo :  Gage in a hospital bed.

***************************************************
From :  Cory Anda <andacory@hotmail.com> 
Sent :  Thursday, December 18, 2003 8:35 PM 
Subject :  Bonds and Brice and Everything Not Nice... 

    
Mike Stoker pulled E 51 neatly back into her place
in the station vehicle bay and distastfully peeled out of his 
smoky jacket and helmet.  He didn't head for the kitchen 
and the warming promise of the coffee pot. Instead, he 
headed for the showers. "Man, I stink. Remind me never to 
volunteer to coordinate a basket rescue, Cap. I swear the 
sulfur fumes dyed my hair funny colors." Mike sighed, 
coughing as he slammed the driver's door shut. He began
looking at his head and combing through his mop
with fussy fingers using the spot mirror.

"I know it did mine. The curl's gone out of it, too,
and my mustache feels awfully slimy." Chet moaned. 
 
Lopez didn't need any prompting to start washing down
all the turnouts and air bottles free of the chemical stains
affixed upon them from the warehouse fire.

"It was bad." Hank laughed good naturedly as every
one else followed Stoker's good idea to get into the showers to 
clean up. " Mike, your air bottle was stained greenish
olive. Didn't you notice it?..."

"No." he chuckled. "I guess I was too happy that we got 
the kid out." Stoker craned a neck around the corner of 
the hall into the bay to see the bottle Marco was spraying off 
in the back yard. The Latin American fireman was holding 
Boot away at leg's length with a shoe to keep him from 
drinking the chemical filled runoff trailing down the sidewalk 
to the parking lot drain.

"Hey Marco. Let me see it!" Stoker shouted.

Lopez looked up from his liberal garden hosing and held
up the offending apparatus gingerly, showing it off like a 
fisherman's trophy. "Nothing like caustic smoke for a change 
in wardrobe." Then he faked a French fashion designer's 
accent." My humble audience, let me introduce you to ..
the new mossy chartreuse shade of SCBA tank, sure to 
allow perfect camouflage in all kinds of daytime and nightime
brush fires with the least amount of eye clashing distrac--"

"Lopez..." shotgunned a voice of authority.

"Yeah, Cap?" Lopez sputtered, thrown off his joking tirade.

"Can it and let's get presentable. You're to have the chow on before 
DeSoto gets back. He's gonna hate the fact that Brice is filling 
in for the rest of Gage's night shift. I want us all defumagated 
for supper or at least in time before our next rescue call so speed
it up a little. You got five minutes to finish the wash. Comprende?"

"Perfectly. Listen Cap, is that little girl gonna make it?"

"Roy said she was breathing ok, only needing help with
a lightly used ambu, when he left in the rig. Gage was
doing fine, too, with no real signs of serious concussion 
cropping up at all, he said."

"That's good."

"What's for dinner by the way?" Cap said, shooing the 
giggling others into the locker room with get a move on 
look.

"Chicken burritos."

"Sounds delicious. I'm sure Craig will enjoy those
too, once he gets here from 10's." Cap's toothy grin
disappeared in the darkness.

Marco grumbled as he hung the last scrubbed
jacket on its hook to drain. "Double chore duty..
It's not fair. I get fire cleanup and KP detail just because
Gage gets himself winged enough to be declared
unfit for duty. My turn was supposed to rotate in NEXT week
for cooking.." he mumbled to Boot who was eyeing 
the water trickling down the sewer grill in the pavement.
The shaggy mutt began tilting his head at the funny echoey 
noises cascading upwards from far below.  

Boot whined and sat down in sympathy at Marco's feet.

"Yeah, I know how you feel.." Marco sighed.

-------------------------------------------------------------------------


"Craig..!" Cap beamed, rising in his chair to greet Johnny's
paramedic replacement.

Hastily, the gang rose in their seats, too, as Craig Brice walked
through the kitchen door, each nodding greetings and handing over
a plateful of chow or offering a coffee mug. 

"Thanks, but no thanks. I've already eaten. Meyers chili is quite
sufficient for good nourishment. And I've had plenty.." Brice said
drawly and smoothing down his spotless shirt over 
his non existent paunch. "But I will take you up on your offer of 
coffee. We've had quite a night."

"So have we.." Marco moaned. "An explosives factory fire."

Brice nodded. "I heard your run toned out. Then later, I heard
Johnny's Code I over the radio..." Craig set down his mug
without drinking from it and asked. "I know it's against regulations
to divulge information about patient conditions.." Craig
broke off, trying another way to express himself and what
he wanted to know.."But we got a fire of our own before I heard 
any news about Gage."

Chet couldn't resist. "Brice.. You? Seeking to bend the regulations?
Now this is very interesting.." he said rubbing his squeaky clean 
mustache. "I never would've dreamed that you even cared about 
Johnny in the slightest.."

"Why wouldn't I inquire about a colleague's health? I'm only asking
out of professional courtesy.." Brice shrugged, nonplussed. "So
I ask again, if I may, Captain. How is Mr. Gage doing?"

The others moused down with amused grins when Cap hesitated 
on his reply.

"Maybe I can answer that.." Roy said from the doorway, smiling as
he tossed his helmet onto the top of the squad's roof without looking.

The gang celebrated his return with congratulations and 
heart felt warm back slapping. 

DeSoto took the chair and coffee and steaming supper offered
to him graciously.   "Johnny asked me to tell you all how he's 
doing so any special rule no longer applies, Cap. He's got
a mild concussion and some smoke inhalation but nothing else
to really sweat over.  Brackett says he can be released in the 
morning for light duty. Megan the little girl's gonna be ok, too. She 
woke up off my support after five minutes under aggressive 
hyperbaric treatment and now she and Johnny are roommates in 
Room 405, pediatric floor."

Chet guffawed, "The kid's wing? Oh, he's gonna hate that."

Roy smiled slightly. "Now I wouldn't say that. I ran into Dixie
again just as I was finishing my followup exam and she said 
Johnny and Megan are getting to be fast friends. She said
their laughter's so loud you could hear it all the way out
to the nurse's desk." he giggled.

The guys fell silent. 

Chet spoke up to break the quiet. "Now are you sure she's
sure what she heard up there? The Johnny I know wouldn't usually
come within ten feet of a kid unless they were in dire need of
rescuing or something."

A chorus of agreement from all the guys, including a nod from
Brice, chimed in around Roy making him throw up his hands in
defense. "I know what Dixie said and I'm inclined to believe her.
There's something special about Megan. I felt it when I was
with her, even when she was unconscious. She made my parenting
instincts surge big time, e-even more than they usually do for
any kid I'm taking care of."

"Yeah?" Marco said, taking a last bite of his refried beans.
"That's neat." he smiled. 

Chet was solemn. "Maybe Megan will rub off permanently on
Gage and he'll run out and get himself married to some chick
 just so he can have his OWN kid."

"Stranger things have happened.." DeSoto grinned, playing
with his marriage band around his finger. "At any rate. I think
Johnny's got himself a new lifelong friend. Dixie says they're
bonding pretty tight."

"This I gotta see." Kelly piped up, reaching for the phone.

Cap grabbed him by the elbow as he passed by his chair.
"Hold on a minute there Kelly. Didn't you see what time it is?
Visiting hours are over. Now let's do the dishes before---"

 Eeee   Oooo   EeeeEEEEeeeeeeeeee.
##Station 36. Engine 10. Stations, 51, 112. Foam truck 127.
Battalion 14. Stations 8 and 99. LAX reports an airliner in
distress en route to Los Angeles from San Diego. 
Los Angeles Headquarters reports a Condition Orange
is now in effect.##

"Let's go!" Hank said, hustling his men. "We'll get where
they want us on the move.."

Roy shivered a deep chill and he and Brice's eyes met in 
a glance. "A crash is imminent..."

"Yeah, but where are they projecting one?" Brice asked 
as he handed Roy his helmet before sliding into the squad's 
seat. 

"Now that's anybody's guess.." DeSoto said flipping
on the squad's lights and siren so they cut urgently into
the night as they headed down the boulevard towards the
direction of the LAX. 

Unbidden, Boot uncharacteristically jumped inside
the engine as Chet was coming aboard her. 

Stoker had the Ward in motion before Kelly could shoo
him off. "All right ya crazy mutt, you're along for the ride.
But in you'll stay!" Chet admonished the dog from
where he sat, gripping the station mascot's chin as they
both bounced as the engine turned streetward.

Silently, the station main doors rolled shut in the darkness
as both emergency vehicles sped away.

--------------------------------------------------------

Photo: Cap, Roy talking with Brice in the kitchen.

Photo: Chet and Marco discussing a matter.

Photo:  The Station at night.

Photo: The Engine and Squad rushing down a night street.

Photo: An airliner in midflight, too close to the ground.

****************************************************
From :  Cassidy Meyers <killashandrarey@hotmail.com> 
Sent :  Friday, December 19, 2003 6:58 AM 
Subject :  Wing and a Prayer 

The fire chief in his speeding car, called the red phone
in the main LAX air traffic control tower over his closed
frequency CB radio. "Ground Crew Three, this is L.A.
County. What do you have? We're en route and deployed
in a full radius surrounding the airport."

Another fire department captain, manning a communications 
panel next to the air traffic controllers handling the inbound 
emergency, spoke. "A Boeing 747, suffering hydraulic malfunction
in its right wing elevators. The flight crew reported only partial control
of their aircraft. Two minutes ago, the controllers received an
automated cabin decompression warning and so far, they've 
only had a quick spotty transmission back from the pilots specifying 
the number of souls on board. 135. Apparent damage has made
all further communication with the cockpit impossible, the tower
says they're receiving, but the pilots are not answering 
comm anymore."

"Sounds like they've got their hands full just flying. Where are they?"

"Twenty nine miles out at about 2600 feet and closing on a final
approach vector,....oops a change, now turning .....070 degrees NW." 
he replied from what he saw on the screen.
Captain Robert Osby replied to McConnikee. "They're losing altitude 
more than they're maintaining a level." he said, parroting what 
his tower aide was telling him in his other ear.

"Ok.. worst case scenario applies.." Chief McConnikee. "Let's
assume they won't make the airport. Give me impact locations.
Best guesses. I have seven stations out."

Osby rubbed his lined face and studied the radar, watching
where his aide pointed. "Batallion, tower says the Torrence
neighborhood. East of the 101 expressway."

"10-4. That's where we'll be.." McConnikee said. "Keep me
posted. Good luck with your crews if they manage to land."

McConnikee relayed his new information to L.A. dispatch
and one by one, the responding stations rolling diverted 
to waiting positions surrounding the affluent suburb. The
chief himself placed his unit on an exit ramp in sight of the
airport and the main bowl of the city of Torrence. Shortly
afterwards, black and white police cars roared up his exit 
ramp to help open traffic for Station Ten, following just 
behind them.

The chief tipped his white hat when the engineer blew 
his airhorn twice in a salute as he rushed by in a flurry
of red lights.

The chief picked up his main mic. "Station Ten. Position 
yourselves east of Dwight, along Nile Street. Park and wait. 
You're gonna be spotters until she's down."

##Engine 10, 10-4. ##
## Squad 10 stands ready.##

A heavy feeling gripped McConnikee's gut when silence
finally fell a minute later when all units reported they were 
set in place and position.  He committed their locations 
and identities to memory. "It'll be a cold day in h*ll before 
we're through here."  

The chief scanned the night sky now emergency cleared of traffic 
for the out of control incoming airliner. A wavering, unsteady
point of light from a lone aircraft's transponder and alarmingly
flickering cabin lights caught the chief's attention to his left and 
he held his breath when his radio crackled.

##We've a visual on 182. Looks like they're nose down.##
came Osby's tense report. "1600 , .....1550..."

"I see them. They're above Torrence proper over the restaurant
district. They've cleared the freeway." McConnikee confirmed, 
kicking his car into gear as he sped onto a main avenue,
following the flight path he could see. Then he lost
his line of sight just as he heard the roar of over compensating
air brakes through the open window. Several buildings were in 
the way of the smoky exhaust trail he could see spinning groundwards.
The noise of jet engines in desperate compensation began to
echo around the structures McConnikee could see. "May G*d have 
mercy on their souls." he whispered softly as the plane sank lower
and lower.  

----------------------------------------------------------------

At the intersection of 38th Street and El Cajon Boulevard where
Stoker had the engine idling in wait. Chet Kelly climbed
out and carried Boot from the back cab to Cap's side of the window. 

"Guess who came along for the ride..? Hiya, Cap." Kelly said, 
waving one of Boots paws through the window pane at Hank. 

"Hey hey..Wonder why he did that?" Cap said, opening the door of
the Ward and stepping out to scrub Boot behind the ears.
"That's a good dog but you aren't winning any brownie points for 
coming with us. Yess.."  he crooned, forgetting for the moment
the disaster to come. His face lit up with the flashes of red from
the engine's lights and with a short faint smile. 

Hank looked up as Brice and DeSoto joined them to lean 
against the Ward. They still had their helmets on.
"Have you heard how long, Cap?" Roy asked quietly.

Cap's expression fell into business and he said. "Kelly, put
Boot back inside and buckle him and yourself up. Could be 
anytime, Roy. Chief said he'll broadcast once he has a better
idea of where they'll end up. He has a channel open to the tower."

Roy rubbed his arms in the night chill and glanced around at the horizon.

In the distance lay familiar outlines of buildings he knew well, with their
lights glowing brightly in the darkness amid the blue fire of the street 
lamps. "I hope at least someone manages to make it." he
said quietly to the warming wind rising from the engine's chassis.

-----------------------------------------------------------------------

Photo : Cap on an HT by the engine at night.

Photo: A speeding squad 51 and engine in a quiet midnight
            neighborhood.

Photo: A night sky full of stars.

***************************************************
From :  patti keiper <pattik1@hotmail.com> 
Sent :  Friday, December 19, 2003 11:17 PM 
Subject :  [EmergencyTheaterLive] And Then There Was One... 

Kel Brackett and Dixie McCall were
in the nurses lounge watching a bit of the Tonight 
Show on their late night break when the EBS radio
down the hall in the base station went off in a rare 
unscheduled dissident whistle tone and repeated
in a series of triple bleeps bone chillingly.

Both of them slammed down their coffee mugs
and cigarettes and ran to overhear the official 
address issuing forth from the speaker above
the main reception desk and so did a crowd of 
emergency room staff a few seconds later.

Noisy babble from people demanding to know what
was happening made the radio sound
dampened and muted. ## ...advises a confirmed 
Condition Orange. Nature of emergency is an LAX 
inbound flight Boeing 747 with 135 passengers.... ## 

"Shhh.. I have to hear.." Brackett snapped at
the milling throng of medical people around him.
"Folks.. Just pipe down.. Now!"

Dixie was a firm directive with an even louder voice
of authority. "This is a Condition Orange Alert and it's 
real and that's all you staffers need to know. 
Everybody scatter to your assigned positions and duties.
Pronto. " Dixie's face waxed pleading and reluctant. "And
try to keep those families and patients here in the ER happy. 
I don't want there to be more trouble than we already have
going on right now."
 
Joe Early, Mike Morton quieted into what qualified as 
listening while those nurses, interns and residents in lesser 
departments started scrambling for extra supplies,  and set about
preparing the still open treatment rooms for double duty.
Three student nurses began summoning more staff in on
emergency recall from off duty by telephone.

Brackett, Morton and Early leaned in once more into
the EBS address speaker. ##....evidence of cabin 
decompression. Potential heavy casualties on the ground 
are expected. Flight 182 has overshot all sparsely populated 
regions and has been spotted losing altitude over a municipally 
classed residential zone. All fire and military emergency response 
stations have been activated....Repeat...This is a Condition 
Orange Alert..##

Rampart General was kicked into overdrive and ready for
anything in the space of just short minutes. Dr. Brackett 
was equally as coolly efficient."What's our current capacity?"

Joe rubbed his hand in deep thought. "Admissions
says we're at 91% occupancy.  UCLA Harbor is
at 95%, L.A.City Hospital is sitting at 97% And Bayside 
General's the worst of all.  They're topped off completely
and redirecting all ambulance run traumas and major 
medicals to other emergency care providers."

Dr. Brackett frowned. "Hmmm, Guess we're on our own
for the majority of any potential mass casualty admissions. 
Rampart's at 91%?"

"Uh huh.." McCall nodded.

Mike's chin wrinkled firmly. "That leaves ......50 beds 
open for us. How many surgical wards do we have 
available?" Morton asked.

Dixie's answer was swift. "Seven. Room Fourteen's just
finished up on a bronchoscopy patient
left over from 51's warehouse fire from this afternoon. 
She's just arrived in recovery."

"Get that team ready to receive, too." Kel ordered.
"Joe, Mike, those rooms have priority. If those airliner
passengers are given opportunities of making it off that
wreck with a pulse, I wanna make sure that ours 
have at least one chance each of surviving the ordeal."

"Right." said Morton, Joe and Dixie. They darted in
three directions to implement the changes.

"Oh, and Dix..." said Brackett.

"Yes, Kel?"

"Let's keep all new arrivals from the crash site
out of the pediatric ward. They've dealt with 
enough noise for one night.."

A smirk played across Dixie's classic features.
"Are you referring to a certain young dashing paramedic
and his equally rivetting four foot two child accomplice?"

Brackett's face contorted. "Yes..!  It's good enough
they're mostly by themselves in that part of the wing  
because of all the new construction. There's not many 
around them tonight to suffer the consequences of being 
within earshot! Dix, send someone to quiet them down, huh? 
Send a candy stripper, an orderly,...the pizza man! Or anyone.. 
for that matter. Just get me some peace and quiet at that nurses 
station..! Dr. Mendelson from neurology says he heard the entire 
why did the chicken cross the road one upmanship contest wafting 
down through the elevator shaft without even trying hard."

"Sure. I'll have the new LPN, Cheryl Adams, pay them
a goodwill visit.." the head nurse winked, remarking 
mildly.  Then her expression turned mischievious.
"Her fifth one so far.." she purred.

"What?!" Kel said, already buried in the disaster protocol
manual from the drug cabinet. His explicative was distracted
and half hearted but still icy with anger.

"Just kidding..." Dixie said in humor, and she headed 
briskly off for the elevators to direct supply carts and newly
arriving off scheduled staffers to where they would be most 
needed. 

Kel twitched.

"I was joking..." Dixie trickled, smoothing out the wrinkles on
his shoulder.

Brackett's reply was just a long suffering growl. "Go..."

"I'm gone.." she puffed.

Controlled chaos filled all three doctors' senses
as they waited for the fire department paramedic
base station in the glass cubicle to light up in sudden
urgent multiple summons.

------------------------------------------------------------------------------

A deep chest rending roar bent the palm trees over Station
51's crew's heads as 182's smoking fuselage of street lit 
red and silver shot by at 360 knots barely 200 feet above 
them.

The entire aircraft was inverted upside down.

"Holy mother of..." Marco gasped.

CRASHHH-HHH-HHHHHhhhhh!!

*screechHHHh*   
 
BOOM!!!

A wave of explosive concussion slammed the waiting
firemen against the engine and making them fall to the ground
in a protective duck and cover, while the ground shifted
and shook in a outgoing wave of reaction.

Before the ugly yellow and lava colored fireball nimbus had 
faded, Cap knew where the jet had impacted. The one
building outline flared impossibly bright by raw plasma
had been unmistakably familiar to him. "Rampart!!"

"What?!" gasped Chet Kelly for the stunned others.

"Shush a minute and let me talk. "
Captain Stanley silenced him.."Do we have any injuries
among us?" he said sharply.

"Uhhh,..n-no." said Lopez for all of them while they brushed
off dirt and freshly shorn palm fronds from their backs, legs
and faces.

"Then on your feet, gang. Now!..We haven't a moment to
lose. To answer your question., *cough* Yes, they went down 
at Rampart!" Hank sobbed, barely in control.

"Are you sure?" Brice said, rising and running for
the squad two steps behind Roy. "That explosion
could have gone up anywhere. There's dozens
of office buildings in that direct--"

"I know that silhouette better than my own station's, Brice!
I'm more than sure! Now get the lead out and just go!" Hank 
shouted, sprinting for the Ward La France's side door. "Stoker.
Once around the rig to make sure she's intact! Then 
put the pedal to the metal, pal. Avoid the main drags. 
Gawkers are bound to snarl those big time. The night life
crowd's in full swing. Get us there side streets! My guess
is that kind of route's gonna put us two and a half miles out.

"I'll get us there in four mics, Cap."

"Make it three.."

"Done."

-----------------------------------------------------------------------------

Johnny Gage felt the rumble before he heard it. He had
slipped into just a pair of jeans to feel more at home
when the hairs began to rise on the back of his neck.
"What th--?"  His face turned unbidden toward the 
venetian blinds in the window and a patch of fire orange
growing there.

Megan stirred in her half sleep. "What's the matter, Mr.
Gage? Is it 'nother quake like the one we got last week?"

In slow motion, Johnny's hand parted the curtains.

The outline of a disintegrating flaming jet was
cartwheeling vertically towards them as if in
a horrific nightmare, crushing cars in Rampart's 
parking lot into smaller exploding gasoline
stains as it came.

"Oh Sh*t! !! ..Megan...!  Get down!"

Johnny Gage had time enough to snatch the little
girl and her IV bag with him into a crouch behind a bed when
all the glass windows on that side of Rampart imploded
inwards in a rain of ballistic metallic debris and raw fire.

------------------------------------------------------------

Photo :   Rampart's Emergency Department driveway
               by day.

Photo:   An airliner crash explosion near a white building.

Photo:   Dixie McCall and Kel Brackett watching TV in the 
              nurses lounge.

Photo:   Joe Early on the EBS red phone with Dixie nearby.

Photo: Johnny screaming in closeup, surrounded by fire.

*******************************************************************
From :  Roxy Dee <laterrapincabesa@hotmail.com> 
Sent :  Friday, February 6, 2004 11:25 PM 
Subject :  [EmergencyTheaterLive] Aftermath~~  

Captain Stanley licked his lips nervously as Stoker 
sped the Ward around increasingly damaged
patches of earth. He saw no other red lights yet in the 
area. ::Looks like I'll be the highest ranking official in the area 
for at least a little while. So I'd better have at it.::

From behind him, Cap heard Marco breathe a sigh of relief.
"Looks like the hospital's still intact. Only the windows are
knocked out. Their power's still on."

"Yeah, but is it from the main towers or their backup generators?"
asked Hank over the roar of the sirens. 

"Does it matter?" Chet retorted, straightening his helmet as
the engine wove its way closer to the forty foot wall of fire
hiding the airliner's impact crater."We'll be able to see what 
we're doing man.."

Cap snatched up his microphone and broadcast wide band.
## L.A. Station 51 is at scene, approaching from the south. Our
aircraft has impacted nose down in the parking lot and seems 
to have effected part of the adjacent neighborhood of ....Dwight 
Street and Nile. We're seeing multiple jet fuel and magnesium 
based debris fires and a dozen automobile ignition points in a two 
block radius. As yet, we have no evidence of survivors from the 
plane. Beginning initial search for ground victims and laying down
immediate water source reconnaissance. I repeat, fire is not 
evident inside Rampart Hospital. Noting window damage only. ##

Hank spigotted the radio mic and heard Chief McConnike
start his plan of attack using his reported information.  Cap
coughed on the stench of kerosene and smelled citrus trees from
the nearby yards baking in the fire. But he was relieved to hear
his superior begin the stream of relief and rescue to the disaster 
zone nightmare of scent and sight and noise that was assaulting 
his senses.

He signalled Stoker to lay in regular air blasts from the engine's 
siren apparatus to encourage survivors and notify other companies 
as to his station's position despite the choking columns of smoke
concealing their lights in the lurid nighttime darkness.

Chief McConnike's voice was still clear and calm, not effected 
by the rising fumes that marked the place where passengers from
the plane had perished, when it came over the speakers seconds
later. ##All companies approach line of sight encircling the debris field 
in a full 360 degree radius. Use the black areas away from fires' glow 
upwind of smoke to find safe places to set up your command posts. Foam 
Units 127, 36, 118, 95 and 106 move into the main crash site by Station 
51. They're near ground zero and blasting their air horn to mark their 
location. Begin your covering support and knock down any burning 
automobiles first to make a path for the second wave rescue teams.

I'm hereby ordering 51 and Station 8 to sweep first line in for any casualties 
originating from the ground. Recovery teams, keep from disturbing any 
found fatalities as much as possible. Mark and cover the remains only.

Companies moving in from the perimeter, make no attempt to use water 
on the magnesium blaze surrounding the Boeing's shell. It'll have no effect. 
Secondary stand by rescue squads and ambulance teams, coordinate with law 
enforcement authorities to keep all non essential civilians out of the 
immediate area.  This includes all the press types and military personnel
who aren't fire departmentally trained.

"Inner response teams: Prevent absolutely everyone from trying to  
leave the hospital proper. They'll all be much safer inside the structure 
than outside because of the large quantity of ignited jet fuel present
amid all of these still potentially explodable cars sandwiched around 
the south side of the building. ##

Echoes of radio hails and acknowledgements bounced off
the city light and fire reflected white hulk of Rampart eerily. From where
he stood, McConnikee could see patient faces numbly peering down at 
him from the shattered ruin of all the windows. Soon, white and blue
garbed others came to take those shocked eyes away in evacuation to
safer areas across the opposite corridors.  ::This is H*ll on Earth folks, 
I know. But not for long. Just hang tough and soon you'll see the City of 
Angels fight back for its own..::he thought fervently. ::All 406 of us.::
he calculated counting the flashers of all the engines laid out in a ring
around Rampart.

------------------------------------------------------------

Chet Kelly startled when unexpected vertical movement
amid expected carnage caught his jumpy eye. His
shock quickly turned to anger when that motion spelled
out spectator over possible victim. Fury exploded from
his lips as he adjusted the hose path he and Mike Stoker
were using off the neighborhood corner hydrant at their
assigned row of torn houses given to them to search through.

"Already they're starting!  Man.. I just hate that.
What kind of sicko does it take for someone 
to go out looting in a place like this ?" Kelly spat,
kicking up dust around his boots.

"The ones who think they can get away with
it." Stoker's quiet reply came back, equally sharp
as he moved their fanning spray over some 
violated lawn.

"Yeah? Well not while I'm on the job, they're not."
Hit  'em Stoker..  " Chet challenged. "Feel free.."

Mike jerked and shouted. When his commands to leave
immediately were ignored by the looting crowd, he let loose with 
an untapered knifesteam of icy water at all their full hands and turned
backs, scattering their ill gotten booty across the debris field. He
made sure that they couldn't retrieve anything again by
sending loudly protesting black clothed forms rolling away into 
the darkness under the naked force of his hose. A shout rose
up as one male cry marked the audible but unseen location of
a bruising impact.

"Oooo.. Easy Mike... What if you hurt them doing that?"
Kelly winced.

"What if they hurt victims' relatives even more by taking the
deceased's wedding rings and other stuff?" Stoker countered,
not letting up his barrage on those he could reach.

"Oh. Good point. Go ahead and nail it home, buddy. For them." he
said, sweeping a glove over the sad remains of the plane 
passengers lying twisted and bare all around them.

Hank Stanley's sharp retort came rapidly..
##Engine 51, I said no water near the airliner!##
crackled Chet and Stoker's HT's.

Chet peeled off a soggy glove and thumbed the talk
button. "Sorry HT 51, just...we were just, well, cleaning up.."

"Cleaning up what? We were told to disturb as little as possible."

"Cleaning up pond scum, Cap, the vilest kind."

##Oh....## came a chastened reply when Hank finally got
the message.## That's different. Keep it up then, but don't
fry your keesters in the process in a magnesium flare.##

"We won't."

##Good men.  Eerrr.. How's it coming?##

Chet fought his way over yet another pile of shattered
wood and metal smoulders which he shouldered out of his way.
"Think we found one that's a death on the ground. Cap, under
a blown in door inside the house designated B west of the main 
intersection."

##How can you tell?##

"Looked like a senior who'd been burned fatally, she's still 
holding a phone receiver."

There came a noise of pain from the other end of the HT
that was quickly stifled. ##Mark her location down on your notes
and search on you two. Keep reporting the ground and plane
DOA's like you are and wave on recovery personnel for live ones.
Squad 51's handling the fuselage vicinity on the remote chance 
anyone aboard survived the impact.##

"Yes sir. Marking...House B as ground victim number five. We're 
now on the move at... Dwight and...Victory Lane.."

## Ok, I've got your current position noted. ......HT 51?## came a 
further hail.

"Go." Stoker said tightly as he watched Chet cover the woman
in the house even as he glared at the soaked retreating looters.

##I'm sending Vince and a full support team your way to flush
out any more of those rats. Save your water for the spot fires 
when you can.##

"We'll be glad to have them. Looks like we found some more 
with full sacks just ahead." He grinned when a telltale, unmistakable 
collection of noises drifted his way on the bitter smelling night wind. 
"Sounds like the lot of them are getting sick behind the row of 
smouldering palm tree stumps by House D down the road on 
your side. Serves them right for even coming in here."

##10-4. Watch for the police from the north, Kelly. ##

"Like a hawk." he coughed quietly.

##And keep your everloving rears safe, you two.
Shots have been heard on your side of the debris field,
west of the air liner's impact crater.##

"You're kidding." Mike interjected into his plastic covered
walkie talkie, dragging the laden hose further along towards
the sound of stunned looters.

##Wish I was, pal.##

"Understood." Kelly added firmly.

##HT 51 out.## 
  
Mike Stoker and Chet Kelly could almost hear their
Cap's nod over the closing company frequency.

------------------------------------------
Roy tried not to look at the fourth floor of Rampart where
he could hear shards of glass hanging from their frames
tinkling like windchimes amid the fire thermals from the
parking lot. ::Johnny.. I wish I'd catch your face sneaking a peek
down here from your room. But, knowing you, you got your hands
full with protecting little Megan right now.::

Roy's boot was about to take another step forward around a
seat cushion when Craig Brice's touch on his back stopped him.
He pointed to Roy's left with his torchlight into the darkness.

A motionless man in the wreckage, still wearing a plane oxygen mask, 
presented himself as more or less the sole intact shape amid the separated
parts that lay strewn about from most of the other dead passengers.

Roy began using his hook to throw aside debris between him and 
the man when Brice's grip tightened on his air bottle, pulling him back. 
"DeSoto. A moment." he heard in his ear.

Still wearing hope's blinders, DeSoto gasped.
"What? He might be one who's made it. We have no time to lose 
here." he shouted behind his mask. He blinked when a swirl
of fuel smoke ruffled his hair.

Roy could see Brice swallowing deeply behind his air mask.
"Look farther down below his waist. That car's front is lying across 
his lower half and ...and...the hood's level to our thighs and the pavement.
You can see that plainly from here. He's been crushed badly.
I'm sorry. He doesn't look it color wise, but he's ..he's ..undeniably 
dead."

Roy checked once again using Brice's analyzing flashlight as
a guide, and saw that Craig's observation was the correct one,
illuminating fully dilated and blood cloudy pupils. Life had indeed 
fled for the man almost instantly when gravity and inertia had brought 
the car tumbling down onto his passenger seat.

::J*sus. Just how many fatality presentations am I gonna see
tonight that they don't teach you from a textbook?:: Roy's mind
interjected mercilessly. "How about giving me one that we
can turn around here." he mumbled at Craig in muted thanks for
saving him some useless exertion.

"Working on it. Praying for it, too." came Brice's reply. "Give me
time. I always find a live one. You know that."

"Just don't fail me partner. I need a lift right about now."

----------------------

Kelly moved forward into House C, a neighbor of the phoning victim,
and jolted his body and nerves yet again when an 8X10 
photo suddenly drifted down from the air, hitting him on the helmet. 
Reflexively, Chet caught the bit of paper and turned its soggy
gloss into his torchlight.

It was a picture of four stewardesses that could only have come 
from the ill fated airliner.  Each of them wore pink and orange
polyester mini skirts with matching gogo boots and gay, brightly
colored navy type hats amid stylish curls.

Kelly gasped and froze in horror, until Stoker felt the drag 
of the hose behind him fall slack when Chet let go of his end 
of the charged line.

"Find something?" Mike asked quietly, knocking his
annoying hanging mask yet again away from his knees.

Kelly lied.. "No. Let's just get to the next house."
he said shoving the photo into a crack almost violently,
away from him.

Chet knew right then that he had been stabbed in the heart. 
Those frozen smiling two dimensional faces plunged deep inside 
his protective mental veneer and he shivered involuntarily 
as his world suddenly swam at this confrontation of his one weakness
as a firefighter. :: No! No more reminders like that, please. :: he 
whispered to the stars above the smoke like  a litany. .::Let them 
all be faceless... Please.  I don't want to recognize anything about these
people lying around me. It'll be easier. Please.. No faces.. N-no  f--::
   
It was Kelly's turn to bump into Stoker at their next
turn bending into a collapsed garage still filled with
a shiny silver parked BMW.

"Got someone.." Stoker said gruffly. "Go look while I snuff out this
small fire.."

Chet worked his way around aircraft metal and roofing beams
until he could peer inside the car through a windshield smashed
inwards from the outside. Kelly saw pink and orange cloth on 
just a torso. "Plane..." he said, backing hastily away.

"You sure? That was awfully fast."

"D*mmit Stoker. Yes, I'm sure. I saw a photo back there in
the rubble of the last house of the plane's flight attendants.
And they were dressed like... like..." his voice strangled into
a sob.

Mike Stoker gripped Kelly's shoulder tightly while his other glove
handed Chet the trickling hose. "Here. Just hold this and don't watch,
Chet. " Kelly closed his eyes in spinning horror as he fought his monstrous
inner fear and just willed himself to breathe to prevent himself
from passing out.

Mike's voice was almost soothing and cut through the 
roaring in Chet's head like a balm. Kelly anchored onto it like
a lifeline. "I'm pulling a tarp over this and someone else now. I got the 
hose fully drawn up to us. Just go. The fire's out." Mike said
gently.

"Appreciate it, man.." Chet said making tracks for the
rising daylight they could see flickering above the clouds of ash 
and soot coming from the devastated neighborhood and hospital
parking lot. He could barely contain his nausea.  "Why is it always the 
photos which get me?" he asked himself. "I'm a rock with anything
else.."

::Because you have photos of friends and family just like they do 
in your wallet..:: came his own ruthless conscience silently.

::Sorry I asked..:: his mind whispered to itself as Kelly finally
found balance in an unscathed flower pot still sitting where
it rested next to a dewy copper metal watering can on 
House D's white porch railing. Water drops from his hose
made the shasta daisies inner eyes glow in the dawn sunlight.
"Who's the second one, Stoker?"

"Pilot."

Sighing and shaking, Chet Kelly raised his HT to his lips
and reported the finding of two more air plane victims.

Then his firefighting cool reestablished itself when his
brain began working again. "Stoker..."

"Yeah?"

"If we found those two, the cockpit can't be far away.
Won't officials want to get their hands on the flight recorder
as soon as possible?"

"They sure would."

"What color is one from a Boeing? I can't remember."

"Red, I think."

"Terrific.. I wonder what the lame brain who thought
up that shade was thinking when he designed it."

"Don't be morbid."

"Kinda hard staying positive just about now. I'd do anything
to find someone with a pulse."

"Reach over and feel mine then. Anytime. I'm really glad
you're here with me, too." he said sarcastically, barely
abreast of his own fear and stress.

Kelly chuckled and groped for Stoker's carotid. "Just so
you check mine, too, periodically. I feel like I'm numb all over."

"Numbness is bliss at a disaster scene. Wish for that pure
emotional novocaine each time at one, Kelly.. What's my rate 
at now? Feels like 180 just slamming into my chest."

Chet's hand never touched Stoker's skin.
"Would you look at them?" Chet said, his grin at Mike's
rejoiner falling away once again into deep tortured pain.

"Look at who?" Stoker coughed, peeling off his hot 
helmet to let the hot wind dry his hair.

"Them..." Kelly said pointing.

A rescue searcher and his dog crouched tightly in an embrace,
comforting each other across the street on a block of concrete
raised slightly above the level of the dead.  As yet, the human
had made no sound. But the labrador was trembling.

"Come on, let's give them some privacy." Chet said.
"Looks like they've already checked that last side of
the block ahead of us. Let's try and find that recorder 
thing like good little fast firemen, hmm?"

------------------------------------------------------------------------------
Roy looked up to see what row of cars they were currently
next to in comparison with the hospital's outline looming above. 

He could just see the fourth floor and Johnny and Megan's patient
room window.  It was one in the shatter zone. ::Be safe, junior.
We're coming. Just whatever you do, don't get the crazy
idea in that idiotic head of yours to move around with the girl
to free yourselves from what you think is danger. I never
versed you on the realities of a large plane crash scenario and
about the fires that come from one. Magnesium burns can't be 
barrelled through, Johnny. They're far far hotter than you can ever 
hope to expect ..or survive.::

---------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Unseen, behind a preoccupied Cap and Chief McConnikee,
Boot wormed his way out of the Ward and went arrowing towards
Ground Zero and Rampart as fast as his hairy legs could carry him.

----------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Photo:   Cap giving an order in closeup. 

Photo : Tumbled cars by a shattered building in daylight.

Photo: Impact crater of an airliner into a residential neighborhood.

Photo: Chet looking down, sad and quiet.

Photo: A photo of stewardesses in 1970's uniforms, pink and orange.

Photo:  A rescue worker hugging his rescue dog.

Photo: Roy looking up, tense, in an air bottle.

Photo: A deceased airplane victim lying on the ground. 

***************************************************************
From :  patti keiper <pattik1@hotmail.com> 
Sent :  Wednesday, February 11, 2004 11:55 PM 
Subject :  [EmergencyTheaterLive] One Step At A Time... 

Johnny Gage coughed, and pushed a fallen bedstand 
table off his shoulders. He immediately looked down.
"Megan?" 

The tiny burden in his arms stayed quiet, her eyes half
lidded around tinges of blood. 

Gage bent close over her nose and mouth and he
sighed gratefully when he felt slight puffs of warm 
wetness dampen the stinging cuts on his cheek from 
her strong even breathing. 

He eased the nine year old off his knees 
and onto the floor gingerly, his eyes sweeping her body for
the reason why she was unconscious. Apart from places
where the window glass had sliced her skin, his
hands only found her over full coloring pen pouch bag that 
she was still wearing around her waist like a fanny pack
and no other sign of serious injury.

The hallway outside their patient room door was amass
with shouts and seniors crying down the hall. Hustling nursing
staff around the central desk were trying to regain control of
the crowd of patients awakened by the plane crash.

An orderly's voice was loudest, and it was coming nearer, 
checking the one room down the construction
scaffolded hallway that he knew was occupied and
facing the direction of the crash. "Hey! Anybody 
still down here?!" boomed an African American
voice. "You gotta move to a room across the hall
to get away from those broken windows.."

Gage wiped a trail of blood out of his eyes and looked
up at his room's door, scratched and impaled by the 
shards of glass that had been driven there from air
pressure. 

The light over Megan's bed sputtered fitfully from 
debris that had damaged its ballast. It only enhanced
the pale color of the little girl's cool skin. "Yeah!  In 415. 
Me and a little girl! Get us out of here! The smoke's 
coming in."

"All right, I'm almost there. Stay put mister!" came the
unseen voice of the orderly. "I'm coming in. You two
hurt any?"

"Megan's out but I've got a good airway on her. 
She's gonna need some serious O2. She took 
some glass into her eyes and yes, her IV line's 
intact."

"How about you?"

::Yeah, how about me?:: Johnny thought. He hadn't even
considered himself. ::I must look a sight right about now.::
He ran experimental hands over his chest, head and back 
and they came away bloodied but sharp pain or areas of
numbness didn't announce themselves. "Not finding anything 
at all. Just some leftover dizziness from a sleeping pill 
I took an hour ago. I'm not shocky in the slightest."

"Sounds like you're very certain of that." came the voice
and soon came rough aggressive noises that showed the hospital
man was pushing aside construction tarps, shelving and paint
carts out of his way right by Gage and Megan's room.

"I should sound certain. I'm a fireman paramedic. *cough* 
Hurry, the air's going to turn real bad. We gotta get her out 
of here." Gage got back down onto the floor and rolled Megan 
onto a sheet he ripped free from his bed and he started 
dragging her behind him across the floor towards the door 
just beneath the oily smoke layer that was pooling into the 
violated room.

"Working on it. Looks like people panicking out here pushed 
an equipment cart over into scaffoulding and the whole lot's
tipped against your door! See if you can crack it open." came
the man's exerted voice. "I got most of it gone."

Johnny felt once more for the quality of Megan's carotid
pulse before he crawled nearer to the wooden door that
he could see bouncing in its hinges from the impacts
the orderly was making trying to free more space around 
the door's handle latch.

New stabs of pain bit into his blue jeaned knees and his
bare palms as debris shards cut them. He moved closer
to the orderly's position getting ready to rise.Johnny kept his 
head down in the clear air pocket near the floor only long 
enough to snatch a breath of untainted air. He decided to
risk standing up into the blinding smoke's gasses to try his 
luck at speeding the escape from their room.

The rush of air that sucked in from the window when
Johnny cracked the door slightly open, rapidly caused 
an awful stench of death to gush inside the room.  
::Too close. The plane's too close to us. Aw, man..::

Briefly, Johnny saw the tangling jumble of equipment  
and the construction rack that still blocked his way
as the fetid wind from outside finally picked a direction 
to flow. It decided to flow inside the hospital, thickly.

Gage shouted, not being able to see the orderly at all
around the smoke that suddenly came billowing out of 
415's open portal that lay between them.  
"This is gonna take too long, *choke* This door 
can't stay open, the toxic fumes are flooding in and that's 
the last thing we need in the hallway with all those sick
patients out there, all right? Is there another 
way out of here for us?"

"What?"

"Just- Just think on it. We've got a minute or
so to get out of here." Gage said calmly.

" Yeah.. Yeah, I think so. In the bathroom, straight back. 
There's an adjoining access door with a lock. Yeah, I know
it for sure. Take this to open it."  Johnny felt a key ring and chain
being pressed into his hands. "After you get through that
door, go left along the service hall. It runs behind a surgical
store room. The firedoor at the end leads to the glass elevator.
You can get out that way. ..uh, wait a minute, no you can't.
D*mmit! I just remembered. That whole outside shaft might 
be damaged and non functional. It's on the crash's side." the 
invisible orderly quailed.

"Good enough for me. I'll take my chances. If not, I'll park us
in that store room and we can wait it out safely enough.
Now seal us off again so we can save what good air we 
have left. It's enough to get us out of here." Gage commanded.

"Just be careful, man. I'll tell security you'll be showing up 
anywhere along that route. Oh, and don't try to leave Rampart. 
We've been ordered by the fire department's city dispatcher 
to keep everybody inside no matter what."

"This is why. The powerlines in the area have to be down
just about everywhere. Now, go. We'll be fine. You gotta continue 
your search for others who may still be trapped. We'll get out fine 
now that we know how."

"But,.."

"Don't worry about the little girl, she's stable.. Just go."

"Ok." The door thudded shut and Gage slid gratefully back 
down into the good air around his knees to try and breathe
regularly. 

Already, biting jet fuel was swelling up his throat and
lungs. ::I'll worry about that later.:: Johnny said,
clenching the key in his teeth. ::Thank G*d I'm used
to eating smoke.:: he sighed. "Megan,...we're getting 
out of here. If you can hear me, just keep breathing real 
shallow all right?" he said coiling up a corner of her drag 
sheet around the better of his two lacerated wrists.  

Then he remembered, his station's gang would be 
looking for him just as soon as the whole disaster scene 
had been given a quick once over for survivors. "I know 
Chet, he'll try ta sneak some of the guys in here at their 
first rest break to try and look for me for sure. But d*mmit,
how can I tell them I got out ok?"

Then a brainstorm. Johnny reached and pulled out a 
handful of Megan's markers and quickly patterned
out an arrow with them on a patch of floor he cleared free
of black dust with an edge of Megan's sheet.
"That'll clue them in.." he grinned. "I remembered my
boy scouting days just fine.."

Johnny wormed his way into the bathroom with
Megan's limp crevat and slammed the door shut behind 
them, sealing off the choking fumes.
 
As promised, the other door was there.  Gage reached 
up and turned on the wall light. 

He startled when he saw himself in the mirror.

There wasn't an inch of him that wasn't dusty with black
and blood.  Quickly, he unlocked the service door with
the orderly's key and the two of them fell into the still pristine 
air of the brightly lit hall that lay beyond it. It was utterly 
quiet in there and everything was eerily devoid of any 
sign of the ongoing disaster outside.

Johnny pocketed the door key into his jeans and 
bent down to recheck Megan's status. "Megan...sweety.. 
You with me yet, hon?" He dug a knuckle into her breast 
bone. Megan didn't stir, but her chest still rose
and fell regularly. "That's all right. It's ok that you're
unconscious, I'm gonna be happy your heart's still 
beating, kid. Let's go."  

Gage gathered her up into his arms, holding her grimy 
IV bag in between his teeth as he barefooted it on tender, 
wounded feet down the corridor towards the surgical store 
room he was told to watch out for. He paused only long enough 
to make another arrow of markers showing the direction
that he and Megan were traveling in. 

As he looked for the next door, his other hand turned 
up Megan's IV port to wide open when the carotid pulse
beneath his finger skipped a beat.

The way along was not hard to find and the next light switch 
Gage flipped on, revealed a stainless steel and tiled walled 
anesthesia gas bottle store and a cart full of surgical dressings.
"Bingo.. but no phone." Gage coughed. "Oh well, Nothing
says we can't take time for a rest stop. We're safe now." 

Johnny carried Megan over to some crates and dug around 
a few of them until he found the right bandages to dress her 
eyes and her bigger still oozing wounds and even some of his 
own lacerations that refused to clot up. 

The markings on one of the huge gas bottles surrounding 
them caught his eye. "Wait a minute.. That one's green. 
I'll just bet that's oxygen!"

It took a search but soon, Johnny located a regulator
that fit the giant O2 tank. He snatched an anesthesia
mask and tubing from a blue surgical paper wrapped
bundle that he recognized from working in ER treatment
rooms.  And a child's oral airway just the right size for Megan 
from a plastic covered recharging crash cart. He
rapidly set up the apparatus and tested it on himself,
breathing deeply from the O2 to make sure it was the right
gas and that the gas flowed well. He took a short while 
longer working on the mask to clear an alarming,
rising congestion in his chest.

Then he secured Megan's airway with the oral tube
and strapped the too large adult black rubber mask 
as well as he could over her face.  Then he tended 
the child with a more thorough exploratory exam. 
"Looks like just your eyes, hon..as I thought." he 
concluded, wrapping both of hers up carefully with 
kerlix around her head until they cushioned them
thickly. "These cuts are nothing." 

He grabbed a BP cuff from the defib cart
and took a quick palpated reading on the 
child to further ease his paramedic worries. 
"72. Fair enough for me.." he sighed,
coughing as traces of acrid smoke lingered
his chest. "A few minutes of this oxygen and
I promise we're gonna get you out of here
lickety split. We got a date with our coloring 
books to keep and we sure can't do that in
here."

Grogginess from an unexpected quarter made
Johnny sway and suddenly, there were two Megans
lying sheeted swathed on top of the cleaning
boxes. "Well maybe after I treat myself too."

He set a cannula off the regulator and strung
it onto himself, breathing in the rich oxygen it
delivered to try and clear his head. 

He leaned on the crash cart as his head sagged
down to his chest. "Maybe I'd better sit down on
the floor." And suddenly, he was there, his butt
bruised from falling. "Terrific.. a smoke inhalation
downer already? D*mn.. W- wonder what my 
pressure's sittin at..."  Groping, he felt his own
wrist.

"No radial pulse.. that's ..that's...lower than ninety.."
he gasped, suddenly air hungry.  He felt a little
higher up his arm and pressed down under
his bicep at the pressure point. "Just
a weak brachial.. that puts it.. somewhere near
the low 80's ...*cough* systolic. Just...just wonderful.
Last thing I need is to black out. And Megan needs
to get to a doctor asap." ::And so do I..for that
matter..:: his inner voice added.

The bright blue tile and steel room swam before
his eyes chaotically and Johnny slid the rest of
the way down the crash cart, slumping onto his back. 

On the way down his elbow caught the cart and it 
tipped over on top of him. He grunted as a drawer of 
drugs shot out from their housing and hit him in the chin,
making him see sudden stars until he rolled over
to try and get some blood back into his head.

One packaged syringe rolled by his nose and
it begged a familiarity to his foggy senses. "What
the h*ll is that one? Can I even guess? I'm feeling
pretty crappy here..."

Johnny drew in another deep breath on his O2
and strained to read the labelling. "A..t...r...o..
*cough*..p...i..    oh, atropine.  Point five milligrams.
Easy one.." he grinned as his consciousness faded. 
"I sure could use some of that right about now.."

Gage's world went black before his hand obeyed
a mental command to try and reach out for the 
medication.

-------------------------------------------------------------

Dr. Brackett looked up from the smoky, fire lit
emergency doors as neighborhood residents
and rescue personnel brought in highway and
residential house victims in a steady stream, 
with annoyance. "Where's Dixie?" he snarled at 
a rushing candy striper, her hands full of trauma 
packs. "She picked a h*ll of a time for a coffee 
break!"

The young teenager just shrugged and fled from
his rage offering a tidbit from the hospital grapevine.
"Dr. Morton said she was headed up to Pediatrics
for some reason. Hope that helps you, doctor." And 
she was gone amid the jumble of screaming
patients and calming hospital staff in seconds.

"Yeah, I'll say it helps. It helps me raise a little
blood pressure..." Dr. Brackett mumbled. He
peeled off his pair of bloody gloves from the last 
hallway patient he briefly examined, who had been 
tagged triage yellow, and dropped them, without
thinking, onto the floor.

He spied Mike Morton standing with a puzzled look
in front of strangely quiescent silver metal elevator doors.
"Aren't these running?" he asked Kel as the senior
physician sought him out to find out why.

"Nope. Compliments of the Los Angeles County
Fire Department. They want no one getting any
bright ideas in their heads about heading down
to ground floor trying to escape the hospital. A
control measure I guess. "

"It's a d*mned stupid one if you ask me.." Mike
flared. "It's hampering our patient room checks."

"I'm on your side, doctor.." Kel said, holding up
defending hands. "Ease off a bit." Then he fell
to guessing why Morton was still staring at the 
closed doors. "Why are you here, Mike. Isn't
there plenty that you should be doing?"

"I just got a call from Security. They say they saw
someone in white getting in the elevator before
the lockdown, trying to ride it after the prohibition
on use announcement. Only now, they report
they can't tell on camera whether or not someone's
still in there."  Morton said.

"A panicking patient?"

"They don't know."

"That's odd." Kel said. "Usually the camera
has a pretty good view inside the car, doesn't it?"

"Key word, pretty good."

"What's the disparity?" Brackett wanted to know.

"Anything knee high or lower,. Probably
because some crazy designer thought the 
emergency floor phone was good enough to
cover for the oversight."

That sent a chill up Kel's spine that he didn't like.
"I now see why you're over here."

Morton nodded gravely, folding his hands over
his arms.  "Maintenance is on the way with a 
service key so I can get in there. Everybody else
is busy."

"How about trying to get a fire captain? They 
always carry universal elevator keys."

"No one's around, Kel. But someone did report
a fire dog running around our floor somewhere.. 
Is that close enough?"

Dr. Brackett made a face, "Hardly.."

Kel heard a shout down the corridor from a nurse
calling his name. He started off to handle the
problem. "Let me know what you find out."

"I'll do that.." Morton said, drumming his fingers
impatiently on the inoperative buttons in front of him.

The phone at the unattended desk across from him
started ringing. Morton tried to flag down a nurse
to answer it but everyone was too busy with patients 
or crying visitors to notice.  

The sound finally grated on him and he 
jogged over and picked up the receiver.
"Emergency. This is Dr. Morton."

##Doctor! We've been trying to reach 
anybody we could. This is Carol from
Pediatrics. Is Dixie all right? We saw
her take some glass in the arm when the 
windows blew out. I wanted to help her but 
she just wrapped a towel around her arm before
I could see anything and said she could handle 
it on her own. Then she got into the elevator
and I lost track of her.##

"How long ago? Just now?" Morton demanded.

##No, maybe ...five, six minutes ago..##
Carol reported.

"What? She never arrived down here!"

##Doctor? I don't understand..##

Morton dropped the phone and grabbed
the maintenance man he finally saw wandering
aimly through the frightening sea of
casualties.. "Come on, mister. Move it.. 
We have a nurse who may be down in here."

Mike almost opened the door through sheer
super human strength as the chastened worker
slowly cranked the doors ajar using his spanner
jack as fast as he could get his shaking hands
to turn it.

Mike jammed his skinny torso inside the growing
crack in the doors and both feet almost slipped 
on the tan carpet that was almost completely soaked 
in fresh blood.  A huddled unmoving female 
form, just as red, lay in the center of it. "Dixie?!"

"Oh my G*d." gasped the maintenance man.

Morton dropped to his knees and carefully
turned Nurse McCall onto her back as he opened
her airway to listen for any sign of breathing. She was 
doing so, very well. ::Point for us. Now..::
Just as fast, he felt her neck pulse and found it 
tachycardic. He looked up to the maintenance 
man and said, "Get in here and hold her head
back so she can breathe good enough."

"Doc, I-I can't.. There's gore all over. I'll
check out."

Mike eyed the man's name tag quickly with
anger. "Do it, Jenkins ! She's bleeding to death 
from somewhere and I'm gonna need both my 
hands to find and handle it!" 

He did so in seconds, grimacing at the warm 
sticky wetness soaking his knees.

Morton cut away the sleeve on Dixie's left
arm and located a glass shard protruding
from a gaping laceration. Blood was spurting
out of it. "The main artery's been cut."

Very pale, but still upright, Jenkins offered 
Morton his office jacket for a compress.

Mike shook his head and just pointed to the
knife of glass embedded in Dixie's arm. "Won't
work that way, don't wanna push that in anymore." 
And he lifted up her arm high enough to reach its 
pressure point and rapidly bore down with both sets 
of fingers, pressing the vessel beneath tightly against 
the bone. 

Then they both began shouting for all they
were worth to summon some very fast help.

-------------------------------------------------------------
"Mr. Gage..?  Mr. Gage? Can you hear me?
Stop playing dead and talk to me.. I'm really
scared.."

"M...Megan?" Johnny's voice was a croak.

"Oh thank G*d. I woke up and heard you
breathing funny down on the floor. What
happened to us and why are my eyes all
wrapped up?"

"Plane crash in the lot outside.. Glass dust
in your eyes. Keep those on..." he said,
trying to lift his hand to stop Megan's from
pulling them off. 

"Ok, I will.. What's that tube doing around
your face? I felt it checking you out."

"Oxygen.. I got us out of a lot of smoke..."
Gage said weakily without moving from
where he lay. " Do me a favor huh? Do
you hear that hissing sound on your right?"

"Yeah,, what is it? Gas?"

"No, it's the oxygen mask I gave you when you 
were.....uncon-- uh,...sleeping.. Give it to me
for a sec..."

Gage saw Megan's groping hand locate it
through blurry vision.  He took it, foregoing the
nasal cannula for its use instead. Johnny
curled around the mask, sucking in great
breaths from it, waiting for his head to clear 
enough and his body's resources to push his 
increasing state of shock away.

"Mr. Gage...Mr. Gage.. are you all right?
What's wrong with you?" she said, shaking
him.

"Took in some bad air hon.. I'm...just gonna be
a little sick right now for a little w--"  His face went 
slack and Megan felt her fireman friend go limp.

"Mr. Gage?.. Wake up...." She started to cry.
"Don't scare me like this.. I...I don't know what
to do..."

But then she picked up the flowing surgical
mask and held it over Johnny's nose and mouth 
when she figured out that he must have done 
the same for her earlier. "Maybe this'll help him 
get better."

--------------------------------------------------------------------

"Dixie.. 

 Dixie....

 Try to wake up."


McCall moaned, the sensation of still being alive 
coming back slowly to her spinning senses.

" We've managed to stop all the bleeding in your
arm. You're going to be just fine.." Dr. Brackett soothed 
as Dixie opened her eyes to blink up at him blearily.

"W-Where am I?  Oh... my head.."

"Easy.. Just lie still." Kel suggested, and slowed
down the flow rate of her Ringer's IV.

Mike Morton grinned, taking a blood pressure
reading on his patient. "You're in Treatment 
Three. Pressure's up to 94 over 70, Kel."

Dixie was too muzzy to analyze much
of anything. "What happened?"

"We found you in the elevator."

"How'd you find me in there?" She said through
an annoyingly dry mouth from her nasal cannula.

"Security spotted you going down on the camera.
Err,, rather, they didn't spot you passing out."

"What was I doing in there..?"

"I guess you were headed here from the fourth 
floor after you got hurt, judging from readout panel.
But then further explosions caused the FD
to use the emergency stops to control our supposedly
panicky people flow and that unfortunately trapped 
you inside."

"The fourth fl-- Oh my G*d.. 405.  Kel, I was
up there trying to find John Gage and Megan 
Miller. Their room's facing the fire. I found
their door blocked shut by fallen scaffolding!"

Dr. Brackett and Dr. Morton both grabbed her
shoulders to keep her from rising. "They got
out. An orderly who helped us with you told us
so. Most likely they're outside in the lobby 
somewhere just hanging around, waiting for 
a check up."

"No they aren't.. Because I ..." Just as fast,
memory eluded her. Dixie sighed, giving up 
trying to sit as she sank back onto the bed. 
"Because I'm certain that we---"

"Dixie, just hold on and think about the whole
thing for a moment. Do you really have cause to
worry about those two? Or is this moderate
shock kicking in? The nurses at that desk say 
everything's 10-2 on that floor. Has been for 
at least twenty minutes."

"Well,, I still can't shake this feeling, not exactly..  
It's just that...something's not ...right." she frowned
in confusion.

"Dix, you just had minor surgery to repair
that brachial artery. You lost over 1000cc's
of blood. You're bound to feel a little off kilter."
Mike Morton said with a grin and more than
a little insistence.

"Mike, I know what I'm feeling now. Do me 
a favor. Just go up and check on them, ok? 
It'll only take a few minutes.."

Kel shook his head. "Wish I could spare the time,
Dix. But the E.R.'s packed, and we're still deep
in triage mode. I'm sure Johnny can take care of 
things by himself for a while. You know how fireman
are. They're really really good at keeping on their
feet. Now no protests, Mike and I have to get right 
back at it a.s.a.p. You were something of a priority 
case for us and that's the only reason
why the both of us are here."

"Kel, Mike.. I.."

Mike looked up and said, "Are we gonna trust
her to stay parked?"

"H*ll, no. So let's encourage her strongly, 
shall we?" And both doctors, to Dixie's chagrin, 
strapped the bed belts around her legs, waist and 
shoulders to guarantee compliance.

"Guys, you can trust me. How about if I promise
to be a good patient and not go any---"

"Rest, Dix. And that's an order..." Brackett said,
tempered by a smile. "At least until your IV bag finishes
up. Then you can start to think about hobbling
around to bark orders at the other nurses all you like.
We're gonna need your bed space. Until then we're 
keeping you strapped in until that arm decides it's going 
to stay clotted up. When the chaos clears up a bit, we'll 
come back and do a neater job on those artery sutures."
 
The two doctors stripped off their gloves they had donned
for Dixie's repair job and hastened from the room into
the triage filled bustle of the outer wards.

Dixie sighed, eyeing her arm splint and wrap
job critically.  "That's just great, you two." She took
a deep breath from her oxygen and the elusive 
memory that had haunted her came flooding back.
"Oh no.. Guys! Come back!  I know what I saw in 
that back corridor now!  Children's drawing pens 
don't lie around littering the floor for no good reason..!"
she shouted. 

Feeling weak, Dixie whispered to herself in defeat.
"How can they when regular patients can't find a way
into that restricted part of the hospital without help?"

A few minutes later, she set in again for someone
to search the fourth floor loudly, but Dixie's words never 
reached any ears that really wanted to hear her out.

--------------------------------------------------------------------------
"Mr. Gage! Now I know you can hear me. I've been
telling you all my best riddles. And I'm getting tired of
doing that to a quiet audience.. I--I  DARE you to open
your eyes and laugh at them. You have to remember
them so you can tell Chet your friend when you
get home,..ok..? 

Mr. Gage..? Come on, wake up. My
hands are getting tired holding this oxygen mask. It's
so heavy and it's too big for you."

"Uh....hhhh." Johnny groaned and he coughed once
when Megan accidently bumped a painful cut
on his cheek with her elbow.

"That's it. That's it. I knew you could do it. Tell me.
Tell me what I can do to get you better faster. I
need you, Mr. Gage. I need you to get us out of
here, now.." Megan pleaded, shaking his shoulder
with both hands.

Gage pushed away the oxygen mask and rolled over
onto his side, getting ill all over the floor.

Bravely, Megan didn't back away from the sounds.
She just held his head on her lap. "It's ok, everybody
gets upset stomach now and then. Mommy says
that a little 7up always makes it better. I'll get you
some when we get out of here."

Johnny's breathing rasped, frightening her,
when he didn't speak again.

"Hey,.. are you ok?" Megan asked.

Huge wracking coughs kept Gage from talking
right away.. Then he said softly.. "No,.. I... I'm not,
Megan.  I...must have gotten ....more toxins from
the smoke ...than I had.....originally....planned on.
Chest's...*choke*..filling up fast.."

"What can I do, Mr. Gage? Come on, tell me. There
must be something I can do..." the little girl sobbed.

"I....I.. can't.....think.."

Megan's voice took on a quiet tone and she
started talking, keeping the mask tightly over
Johnny's face as he tried to pull himself together.
"That's ok... I'm nine years old. I'll do the thinking for
both of us.. I'm used to taking care of my younger
brothers and you're only just a bigger kind of brother
to me.... Only,...only.." Megan's face screwed up under 
her bandages and tears began to soak through, making 
them damp and pink.
"..I don't know what to do now, Mr. Gage. I - I just keep
right on hearing that awful low rumbling sound that
came before that jetplane fell out of the sky.  I'm scared 
Mr. Gage. I still am.. It sounded so much like something to 
be afraid of." she sobbed.

"D-don't ...be   afraid.. I ..I ...*gasp* I...know what to
do now. Megan...I...need you to find me a ...uh,  
a shot, ok.? You know, the kind with medicine in it.."

"What?" Megan said, brushing dirty hair out of Johnny's
eyes. "I don't understand."

But Johnny didn't realize he was confusing the girl.
He just blearily kept mumbling. "It's like your dad's coffee, 
only stronger..." he gasped, pushing the oxygen away... 
"It's called...a-atropine.... Go get the shot, Megan. Get
it now. It's...it's..got to be nearby.. I just ..saw it."

"Where? Mr. Gage, I can't do that.. I can't see anymore."
her lip trembled.

"It's ok, hon. Oh,...I see it right here, just out of reach 
about six feet to our right. Can you sweep around for
it? Wait a minute, d- don't reach so far, you'll
pull out your IV. Go slow.. A little farther.. There, feel
it? It's like a plastic pack of silverware from the fast
food restaurant. Yeah, that's it..."  Johnny let his
head fall back on Megan's lap and he closed
his eyes, exhausted from the effort of picking up
his head.. "Take it out of the paper and hand it
here. You're gonna have to help me take it.."

"No,.. I can't do that.. I..hate shots.. Even watching
them.." Megan protested.

Johnny gave a little laugh. "Well, we won't have
that problem now, will we? Your eyes are wrapped
up.."

"Oh, yeah. That's right. But I know it's gonna feel
gross anyway.." she reasoned.

"Not that much for you to gross out with, now
is there? You aren't going to be on the receiving 
end of it.." he coughed, trying to put a laugh
into his tone. He failed to hide his weakness.

"Oh...h.." Megan quailed.

"Now,... I gotta take this in the hip. And
I'm too beat to get my jeans loosened.
You're gonna have to help me." Johnny
said gasping.

"I'm not going to undress you!"

"Megan, you won't see anything.."
he gasped in frustration.

"No, but I will know what's going on and
that's bad enough.." she yelled right back,
more angry than embarrassed.

"Ok,...ok...ok.. *choke* Change of plans.
Calm down. I won't make you do anything
you aren't willing to do. Geesh. Relax a little."
Gage snaked out his hand until he grabbed
a pair of clothes shears that had fallen from 
the crash cart when he fell against it. "Just
let me... get my breath back ...it'll only
take a bit.."

After some time taken to use the black
O2 mask on high, Johnny spoke again.
"Ok, here's the s-scoop. Can you cut away 
my jeans pocket on this side? Here's a 
pair of scissors I got...from the cart.." 

"I don't want to cut you..!" Megan said
vehemently.

"Megan, these are paramedic's scissors.
Feel that? There's no sharp points on these,
they're blunted with skin guards. Now.. go
ahead. I...gotta....hurry....Getting h-hard to..
breathe now..." And Johnny exaggerated his 
true condition by breathing noisily to get Megan
over her qualms about ruining his jeans.

He eased off his acting when he felt cool
air over his hip after much tugging and
slicing on Megan's part. Soon the job
was done. 

Johnny began to realize that
his respiratory distress wasn't all himself
faking it. ::Edema? Too soon. Too..::
 "M--Megan.. pull off the cover from the 
needle.. Now..push the plunger until you
feel the medicine squirt out the top."

"Ooops sorry.."

"That's...o..ok.." Gage puffed. "I-I'll dry off 
soon enough when we get out of here.." Gage 
said.

The room started retreating again.

Johnny could feel his chemical burned 
bronchioles closing off despite of the O2 
and suddenly another blackout threatened
to swallow him up. ::I need the atropine..
Now.. or I'll quit br--::  "Megan..feel
where there's a padded spot on my hip 
and give me the s-shot where ..*gasp* you 
feel the skin isn't b-bony.."

"I can't do that!"

"Megan, I'm gonna faint on you ...right
now... I can feeling it ....c-coming on.. Now,.
just do it. Come on, there's a good
g---"  Johnny's laboring lungs suddenly
snuffed out his consciousness in mid sentence.

Megan felt Gage's hands fall away from
hers and she heard the mask tumble off
his face to the floor and his breathing suddenly
quieted alarmingly. "Mr. Gage? Are you
ok?.." she asked in horror. "Don't go to sleep.
You gotta show me how to do this..."
she whimpered.

Then something integral made Megan let go of 
the "child" way of thinking and a new budding
"adult" side of her kicked in. 

With only slightly shaking hands she stuck the needle 
firmly home and injected all the atropine in the 
syringe into Gage's hip muscle. Then she jerked it 
out and flung it away in absolute disgust.

Weeping, Megan Miller hugged Johnny Gage, 
listening to the rapid and weak wheezing noises 
coming from under the mask she had quickly 
returned to his face.  

"Please don't die..." she whispered.

---------------------------------------------------------------------------

Photo:  Johnny in jeans, no shirt and hurt, seated.
 
Photo: Unconscious girl of nine, bleeding and bandaged.

Photo: Patients on beds crowding a hospital hallway

Photo: Morton treating a hurt Dixie on a gurney.
 
Photo: Airplane crash field, up close.
 
Photo: An animated syringe giving a shot to the air.

*************************************************************  
Date: Thu, 12 Feb 2004 16:43:28 -0800 (PST) 
From:  "Sam Iam" <lafddispatcher@yahoo.com>   
Subject:  A Glint In The Light 
 
An obnoxious squelch over the open frequency made
Chet Kelly startle as he and Stoker climbed over the
airplane debris field colorfully marked in fatality sheets.
"J*sus H Christ... That's too loud!" he articulated as
his hand shot into his turnout pocket to pull out his HT.
His face was hot and streaming inside his air mask
that he still wore. "Gonna be a scorcher today. Feels
like 80 and the sun's just coming up."

"Could be because of all the fires, Chet. Relax. Feel
like going for another air bottle change out yet?"
Stoker asked, wiping a sooty glove over his faceplate
so Kelly could see the glint in his eye that was an
attempt to lift his spirits.
  
Kelly stared at his radio accusingly as L.A. did its first 
communications check in with all the rescue and police 
personnel on scene of the jet crash.  ##L.A. Stations:
99, 36, 118, 12, 127, 8, 51, 10, Battalion 14, Ladder
90, Brush 5, One Adam Twelve, One Bravo Three,
One Tango Six...#... the list droned on and on...

"Man, Stoker. I'd thought I'd never be on a response 
this big. I mean, how can they ever keep track of 
everybody? It's hard enough just keeping our own
station's chatter on sub band 51."

Mike Stoker stopped in his tracks and turned a
circle in place just like he'd been doing every
twenty steps for the last two hours, looking for
magnesium hot spots that might endanger 
their boot material. He eyed the signs of carnage
and rubble alike with a professional dispassionate 
distance that Chet knew he'd never be able to 
master. "That's what the Fire Chiefs are for.
L.A. can only ferry transmissions, not organize
them all."

"I know, I know." Kelly said, hooking yet another
piece of plane metal away from a tiny fuel blaze
as they searched for their current assignment,
looking for the flight recorder. "Maybe I'm just
on edge because we haven't found a live victim.
I really didn't need to see that rescue worker 
and his dog all busted up like that. It kinda gets
a guy down. Know what I mean?"

Mike Stoker motioned that their way forward
was clear of hazard without saying anything.
He started counting out their twenty paces
out loud once again as the lead man on
the recovery team.  His left foot stumbled
on some baby clothes and he only hesitated
briefly before walking on, using his hook as
a support.

"Ah, man... I should have been a farmer.."
Chet said softly as he regarded his crewmate's
hunched over back. "This stuff's for the birds."

He hurried to catch up to Mike to give him
an affectionate pat on the shoulder.

---------------------------------------------------------------

They were on the east side edge of the triage
area outside a SafeKo store.

Roy DeSoto and Brice patted the back of the
Mayfair after sealing off its access doors. 
"Go, go go!" the weary, ginger haired paramedic
urged the driver as he stepped back away
from the tires. Then he leaned over, catching 
his breath with his hands on his knees.

Brice whistled, getting Roy's attention.
"Need this again?" he asked, lifting a
demand valve mask from a coil wrap
he had just finished making in their O2
case.

DeSoto shook his head, and waved him
off with a gesture. "Nah... I'm fine..."
and he parked his soiled backside on
a spent foam unit casing to rest. 
He rubbed his face. "It's just... that last
one really got to me.  I mean, who'd figure
a four year old boy going to his first day
care center would ever end up on the receiving
end of all of this..." he said, throwing up his
hands at the chaos around them. 

A sharp support volunteer quickly darted over
from a supply tent and handed both paramedics
plastic water bottles, already opened. They
were luke warm.

Roy and Brice nodded their thanks mutely.

Craig rubbed the dirt off his face and made a
half hearted attempt at rubbing some more off
of his usually pristine uniform. "It doesn't pay
to get emotionally involved with a patient while
treating them."

Roy flared, "Does it look like I'm treating anybody
right now, Brice?" he shouted, sharp. "No..."

Craig studied his feet and then just knelt and 
finished putting away the O2 apparatus. A long
pause seemed to isolate the two men despite
the roar of fire and echoing radio transmissions
and hissing hoses and idle-ing engines surrounding
them. But then, his face altered and opened up.
"Sorry. There I go again, offering stupid advice
where it isn't welcome."

Roy lifted his head and just shook it, brushing off
the apology. "We're tired. We're all tired. And 
things really seem like they can just.....go on forever.."
His eyes wandered over to ground zero where
he could just see a crane trying to lift
the tail section of the airliner away from an
alley full of body parts. "Not your fault lashing
out.." he said softly. "I just did it myself.." he said
with an unconvincing familiar smile.

Brice's back just stayed stiff as he slowly 
stowed their gear back into the squad
side compartments.

Roy got up and walked over to recollect 
his soggy coat from where it lay on the roof
of the squad in a futile attempt to dry it off.
"Come on, let's go grab some coffee. Dwyer said
they have a refreshment tent already set up. 
Anything's gotta taste better than these things."
he said draining the last of the water from his
bottle. "We'll keep our talkies with us in case 
we get any more calls. I don't know about you,
but I don't wanna be tied to the squad's radio
for that. I wanna move around a little."

Craig finally grinned and looked at Roy.
"Same here. I thought I was the only one
getting ansy."

"Not by a long shot.." DeSoto smirked.

But then Craig's face fell into another 
disturbed frown that DeSoto noticed.

"What's wrong?" he asked Brice.

"I....can't put my finger on it. But have
you been listening to all the radio 
checks? There's not one voice going
on the air that I recognize.." he told Roy.

Roy tipped his head, thinking a bit.
"Well, there are a lot of us here.."

"Yeah, perhaps you're right. But I can't
shake the willies I've had ever since
we both got here."

"Body recovery blues?" DeSoto asked.

"No..no.." Craig said carefully. "It's 
different.."

"Well, a little sugar might help. We're
both a little transparent right now. Not
hungry, but hollow. And we still have to
do our vitals sets on each other looking
for hidden trouble spots because of
all the complex smoke around here."

"We'll do that after the break." Craig 
nodded in decision.

Roy shrugged back into his damp jacket.
"Ok.." he grinned. "Let's go."

------------------------------------------------------
Chet Kelly passed by mountains of steaming
rubble, house and plane and nothing he
saw was familiar. "We've been all over
the place, Stoker. I don't think we're gonna
find it. Maybe we should let the Feddies.."

"We haven't been on this side yet, Chet.
I know, I would have remembered passing
that.." he said, pointing down to a charred
car that had a severed fire hose lying by it.

Kelly leaned in a little closer. "What happened
here?"

"Hose burst. The crew manning it must have
touched a mag fire."

"Oooo." Chet winced in sympathy, peering
into the windows of the car. "Looks like
they got out a live one. There's IV and EKG 
papers all over the place. And I'm seeing
a used suction cylinder in here. "

Mike hooted. "Whoo Hooo! There's one
LESS for ya, Grim Reaper! " and he 
celebrated by raising his fire hook in
triumph.

Chet raised his eyebrows in silence before
mumbling, "Always gotta watch out for the 
quiet types, man.." but he smiled just a few
seconds later.

Unfamiliarity reigned across the landscape 
on the ground with nothing recognizable, 
but all the fire and smoke was all too
familiar to them as they resumed search.

One section to the west under a rising column
of an as yet unbattled fuel fire caught Chet's
attention. A shape sticking out of the mess
that bothered him. "Hey, Stoker. This way."

"Kelly, we'll mess up our pattern.."

"Just come on.. I may have spotted something."

Mike Stoker followed line of sight along Chet's
arm. Then he shrugged. "A firefighter. So.."

"Stoker, think a minute.. Do you see a truck
around here anywhere. No one leaves
the hundred foot perimeter from the engine
in an unknown hazard scene."

Stoker once again eyed the figure picking its
way over the debris field, shimmering in the
early morning heat thermals. Its helmet
almost seemed to big.  "Looter?"

"I'll bet fifty bucks on it.." Kelly complained.

"Now, I'm really mad...." Stoker frowned.
The mild expression on his face hadn't changed.

"Good,  glad it's unanimous. Shall we
do a little city property recovery mission?
Not like we're really needed victim scouting
and I'm fed up with trying to locate a needle
in a haystack with that flight box." Kelly sighed.

"I'm in.."

------------------------------------------

Three minutes later, Kelly and Stoker
closed in their ambush on the lanky teen
who was saundering around the crash zone
in stolen fireman's gear.  He looked almost
comical with his bloody white Adidas
shoes sticking out of the tan pants.

"Got ya!" Stoker said, using the severed
fire hose as a lasso. 

Chet brandished both fire hooks like 
medieval lances and he framed the startled 
young man with them keeping him from running 
into one of the live powerlines twitching on the 
ground. "Stupid kid. Start stripping, right now!
And be fast about it."

"Ok, ok, What's the big deal? I was just having
a little fun ya know?  My friends couldn't get
anywhere near here because they didn't have
the right threads.." the teen sputtered, giving
up and hastily peeling off the contraband.

"Where'd you get it?" Kelly demanded.

"I don't know.. Somewhere back there.
Near the nose cone. Nobody was watching
it. These things were just lying on the ground...." 

That disturbed both of 51's firefighters into
muteness, briefly.

Mike Stoker freed the boy from his restraints.
"Now listen carefully, your life may depend on
it."

"Sir?"

Kelly threw down one of the hooks until it
connected with a hidden power line and 
livid gold and blue sparks crackled and roared
to life around it until the energy kicked the
metal end of it away.

The teen flinched and paled considerably.

"See that? This whole place is littered with
live electrical lines and fuel puddles just
waiting for some dumb kid to come along
and fry himself to death just for stepping 
in the wrong place at the wrong time. 
Kapesh?" Stoker snarled.

The kid rapidly grew terrified. "Uh, huh..uh h-..uh."
he nodded quickly. "I can see that...." he squeaked.

"Now get out of here.. Follow along on top of
that dead fire hose to the uneffected streets pronto. 
And don't come back..... And I do mean ON TOP.
You just may make it out of here alive..." Mike
said softly.

The kid fled.

"Oo, man... Stoker,.." Chet laughed once the cowed
teenager had gone considerable distance away
from them. "Remind me to never be reborn as
one of your kids, ok? You make the wrath of G*d
Moses felt seem t--"

But Stoker was no longer listening. He had
lifted the jacket from the ground and was
wiping the soot over the letters on the back of
it, away, with a wet passenger sweater.

Simultaneously, the rising sun's light 
touched the curving mass of a severed 
chunk of the airplane and glinted off twisted 
metal of red and silver chrome, something
not found on any aircraft.

Kelly gaped. "Ohmyg*d.."

Stoker's HT flew to his mouth and he
thumbed the talk button over the steady
radio traffic buzzing from the speaker.
"Break! Break! Break! HT 51 to Battalion 14.
Unit down. I repeat.  Unit down. We've just
found a fire engine under the nose cone.
ID is Station 10!"
--------------------------------------------

Photo : Crash debris field..

Photo : The severed nose of a downed 747.

Photo:  A mangled fire engine in early dawn.

***************************************************
From :  Cory Anda <andacory@hotmail.com> 
Sent :  Friday, March 12, 2004 1:29 AM 
Subject :  High Rescue  

 Megan stirred from where she lay across 
Johnny Gage's chest.  His hand had gripped 
the base of her throat, feeling for the big 
pulse point that she knew she had there. 
"Mr. Gage? Are you all right?" she asked 
lifting her bandaged head and eyes 
from the fast rise and fall of his breathing. 

A grunt of pain from a dry throat greeted her ears. 

"Mr. Gage? Did you hear me?" 

Finally, she got a croak in response. 
"*cough* I... was just....about to ask you the same 
thing, Megan." said his voice, muffled by the black 
rubber surgical oxygen mask Megan had strapped 
onto his face. "Are we still safe in here? I ..kinda l-lost 
track of time." he moaned, sliding the flowing mask 
off his mouth to his chin so that she could better 
understand him. 

"Sure are. I've been crawling to the door every five 
minutes to check it for hot spots or smoke coming 
from the bottom of the door." 

Johnny opened his eyes blearily and blinked away 
lingering grogginess that still fogged him from his 
exposure to the chemical smoke from the patient room 
Megan and he had escaped from. 

Experimentally, he took in a deep breath. Immediately, 
bubbling liquid made him choke in reflex but the spasms 
that had plagued him before the atropine injection 
didn't rematerialize. "Good job with giving me that 
shot Megan. I- I think I've turned the corner." 

Gage saw Megan's hands blindly grope around on his 
stomach until they located both of his caked palms in 
a tiny and sweaty grip. "I was so worried Mr. Gage. 
I- I thought your lungs were going to stop getting enough 
air for you.  It was scary hearing those noises. 
They were all whistles and squeaks and you got really 
sweaty and cold, too, for a long time. I tried to cover 
you up but I couldn't find a blanket." 

Johnny glanced with irony at the shelves of surgical 
sheeting that were folded on the linen racks just 
above Megan's eye wrapped head's height. "That's ok. I... 
feel better now. You've nursed me through just fine here." 
and he leaned over to cough and spit some thick 
mucous out of his mouth. "How'd ya.. how'd ya 
keep track of when to recheck the door again 
for fire and smoke with your eyes wrapped up like 
they are?" he asked, shifting slowly to hands and 
knees, testing his body's strength and condition to 
see if he could manage standing. 

Right then, Gage's watch went off and he startled 
as its shrill, trebled diving alarm pierced the stillness of 
the store room. 

Megan's bandaged face split into a toothy smile. 
"I recognized your diving watch, Mr. Gage. My dad's got one 
just like it and I knew which button to hit to set the timer 
for a five minute low air interval warning." 

"Oh yeah? Those are mighty big words for a nine year old." 
Gage scoffed, teasing her. He threw partially focusing eyes 
downwards to make sure that Megan had indeed pulled out the 
syringe needle from his hip before he turned off the 
alarm buzzing on the watch. "Don't know if I believe you." 
he said with a grin, not being able to help himself. He wanted 
to make her think of something else other than him to bolster 
her own confidence, mentally and physically. 

"Oh yeah? Well I can tell you that I checked that door five times 
since you decided to nap on me. And yes, I've been told I've 
got a mighty big brain for school learning, especially 
when I write and talk about all of daddy's diving trips to the 
Bahamas." Megan said with indignation. "You better 
believe me cause it's what happened. You were out for 
all that time." 

Gage reached out with come here hands. "Hey..I'm just kidding. 
I forgot you can't see the smile on my face.  Really,.. 
I'd have you on my engine crew watching over my rear in 
a house fire any day of the week, Megan. You really 
saved my bacon a half hour ago and I'm not going to forget 
it anytime soon. Come here. A grateful guy wants to dish 
out a hug or two in thanks, all right?" 

Megan rushed into Johnny's arms as he stood up 
on shaky legs. "There..." he said. "I'm all right and 
so are you, hon. No need for tears. Now. Let's get the 
heck out of here like we both wanna do." he complained. 

He set her briefly on the stack of boxes as he turned off 
the oxygen tank they had both used and he checked both 
their vitals signs to reassure paramedic curiosity about himself 
and his young charge's status. 

She was stable and her eye dressings were no longer 
wet with new oozing plasma under the older dried blood stains 
covering her eyes. His own B/P was in the hundred range 
palpated but all the cuts on his bare chest and shoulders and 
the areas above his jeans and on his face had clotted up well. 

As an afterthought, Gage grabbed a new D5W 
bag to replace Megan's limp one along with 
another atropine syringe package for himself in case 
his toxic gas pulmonary edema flared into crisis again. 
"Ready to go, princess?" he asked her when he was 
through fussing. 

"And how. People out there are probably wondering 
where we are." 

::I'm counting on it.:: Johnny thought to himself as 
he hefted Megan's light weight onto his good hip. 

He grabbed a fire extinguisher from a wall compartment 
on his way out of the surgical supply room after 
deciding he'd keep the route ahead hazard free with
it as a backup. 

"What's that for?" Megan asked when she recognized 
the familiar ching of metal nozzle on metal cylinder. 

Gage said. "Ever heard of an insurance policy? 
Well, this is a non paper kind. Hang on to me tight. 
We're headed out." Johnny felt Megan clench his hair 
painfully as he moved down the fitfully lit hallway and 
back into a faint bank of bitter sweet smelling smoke. 
"You're forgetting the Santa Anas are in full swing. 
They'll wrap any fire higher than a skyscraper if 
the wind's strong enough. There may be hot spots 
around where we're going." 

An orange glow at the end of the corridor showed Johnny 
the location of the glass elevator. The doors separating its 
shaft from the maintenance corridor had been ripped away 
and the nightmare vision of the burning plane and 
surrounding neighborhood gaped through like a surrealistic 
hellish painting that made a lump knot deep in his throat. 

Gage didn't let the relaxed but mute Megan know that his 
eyes and heart were already crying. ::All of them, dead?:: 
he thought in thinly veiled despair and shock. He could 
tell by the color of the smoke columns that more than 
metal and wood burned in the magnesium fires that marked 
a sickening outline where the plane had embedded its 
length into the parking lot concrete and across the yards of at 
least six homes that he could see in the distance from his 
vantage point from the fourth floor of Rampart. 

The scene was hugely bloated with chaotic ruin that 
hungrily swallowed all signs of the rescue work that was 
ongoing, for there wasn't even the slightest sound of radio 
barks nor the faintest flash of red lights from fire engines 
carrying up to where Gage and Megan slumped 
in the passageway. 

A hot wind whipped a vile stench up the shattered shell of the 
glass tube that once housed the glass viewing elevator panes. 
Rungs of metal where the broken sheets of tempered glass 
were once hung, were completely intact. "Those are 
still climbable!" Johnny said, looking down, tracing the 
route his eyes picked out through the darkness and 
firelight flickers. "We can rappel down." 

"But we're so high up.." Megan wailed. 

Gage shouted, seeing hospital figures below running triage 
in the hastily converted outdoor cafeteria just below him. 
"Hey! Up here!" But no one looked up towards the upper 
floors at all and the roar of fire and water covered the sound. 

Then Johnny spotted a familiar shape sniffing and searching 
through the rubble and papers littering the grass. "Boot! 
Hiya boy!.. Up here!  We need help!" 

But the shaggy, weary dog didn't hear him. 

Desperate, Johnny said, "Megan, gimme more of 
your coloring pens. Quick." 

The girl unzipped her fanny pack and gave him the 
last of them. The green ones. "Here." she sobbed 
in sudden fear, understanding the tactic at once. 

One by one, Johnny launched pens into the air, 
trying to hit the ground near Boot. Several 
bounced off the torn, tipped over umbrellas out of 
the dog's sensory range. 

But the very last green pen finally clattered right 
underneath Boot's front paws. The stressed dog 
startled at the impact but immediately afterwards, 
his nose started working earnestly until he located 
the thrown missile as it rolled under a canted over 
cafeteria tree pot. 

Boot whined when he recognized Johnny's scent 
mixed with blood on the pen. 

"Atta boy! It's us..  Good boy.." Gage grinned. 
"Get a good whiff. Yeah, that's me and 
yeah, I'm in trouble." 

Johnny could just barely see Boot begin a 
tracking circle around the bustling gurneys and 
moaning patients crowding the triage area in 
a concerted search for his whereabouts. 
His pacing was headed away from the ravaged 
side of the hospital. 

"No, no.. we're up here, Boot!" and he waved 
sharply, leaning over the edge of the windy precipice 
inside of the elevator shaft. "Come on.. Use that 
mug of yours. And those ears...!"   He brought 
a bloody hand up to his lips and he whistled fiercely. 

Boot's head jerked at the sound that only he could 
hear over the crash site's din and his head lifted, 
trying to pinpoint the source of echo of the familiar 
call that he knew. 

Gage whistled again and he saw Boot's black 
nose twitch in a rush of wind that swept down 
the side of Rampart's shattered face from 
where Megan and he huddled against the 
fire and sun glowing building. 

Then the two of them connected eyes. 

Johnny saw but didn't hear Boot begin to bark and 
fuss in earnest in sudden frantic activity. "Atta boy. 
Go get help! Yeah, we're up here boy. Gonna need 
a way down. Go, boy. Go! Get some help. Yeah, 
I got a victim with me and I know how much you can't 
stand not being able to reach one." 

With a last emotionally torn howl, Boot arrowed off to the west, 
shooting around doctors' legs and oblivious civilian 
casualties in search of some true fire people from an 
engine crew who would do more than just kick him 
away in irritation. 

"Go.. Boot.. get Cap or.. anybody..  That's the way.." he 
gasped, sinking down to crouch on the edge of the cold 
concrete above the elevator track, cradling a mentally shocked 
Megan against his shoulder. He laid the child on the floor onto 
her left side and covered her with a stack of plastic bags from 
an abandoned mop cart to help keep her warm in the smoke 
breezy hallway. Deftly, he hung her IV on a door jam above 
her. "Megan, stay put. I gotta rig a line of some kind for us 
to use." 

Gage crawled over to the far wall and yanked open the 
emergency fire hose panel and peeled its long but empty 
canvas'ed length away from its hanging hooks. 

Absently, his trembling hands began to fashion a safety harness 
using the fire hose; a tandem one big enough to hold both 
Megan and himself. "If they're not here in ten minutes, we're 
getting down ourselves. Can't wait long for treatment. 
Neither one of us. That O2 we shared off the tank was 
just a stop gag measure. This new smoke's gonna effect us 
being still caught up this high if we don't get underneath 
the worst of it real soon." 

When Johnny was through with his constructing, he tied 
the male end of the hose to the big red water nozzle wheel 
coming from the stout red painted pipe inside the panel cabinet. 
He quickly secured a firm hauling hitch. 

Then, he gently awoke Megan, murmuring reassurances. 
"Set to go? It's ok. I won't let you fall. I do these 
kinds of things all the time in all kinds of places and I've 
never dropped anyone from a high place without a reason." 

Megan scoffed, making a face. "What's a good reason?" 

"Uh,... When we had to use a life net." he said through 
pursed lips. 

His answer didn't alarm her in the slightest. 
"Why don't you get one of those now, Mr. Gage?" 

Johnny's hesitation was a long one. But truth won out. 
"Because no one knows yet that we're even up here. 
Except Boot." 

"Boot who?" Megan coughed weakily. 

"Our station's dog. He's a sort of mascot who's 
our pet,.. er.. well, ..he's actually a stray who shows 
up on occasion right when we need him." 

"Like now?" 

Gage felt his young charge begin to shiver as 
he tied the final hose loop around both himself and her. 
He eyed the hazardous way down the side 
of the building inside the shattered, dangerous 
glass elevator shaft. The car itself was at the bottom, 
unused, parked and forgotten in a safety measure. 
"I sure hope so. I gave him strong enough hints 
about where we were thanks to your bunch 
of coloring pens. I tossed them down practically 
on Boot's head." 

"I'm gonna miss them." Megan sighed, suddenly 
sleepy. "Especially my green ones. And 
my brother and my d--" her voice trailed off. 

Johnny was alarmed, quickly. "Hey,..Megan? 
Can you hear me? " he asked her, leaning close and 
feeling the waning strength of the pulse at her carotid. "Now 
don't go out on me here.  I need you to--"  he broke 
off when he felt the girl go limp despite of his 
shouting and pain rubs. 

A closer check proved the child still breathed but  
it was shallow and fast because of the increasingly 
acrid air swirling around them. Gage half considered 
retreating back to the surgical store room but changed 
his mind, thinking suddenly of Boot. ::He's gonna need 
something to go point onto when he gets back with some 
half convinced doubting firefighter. It's gonna be a needle 
in a haystack for him to find someone I know who'll believe 
him that there's trouble involving me, so I gotta make 
it as easy for him as possible to prove... by staying 
visible..:: he thought. 

Johnny snagged Megan's IV free from the door hook 
and turned its port wide open, tucking the bag and tubing 
inside of her fanny pack which still hung above the 
level of her loosely dangling arm. He tested her 
consciousness level and found it at an even lower 
glasgow rating of three. "Oh, no you don't." 

Gage fished the oral airway he had saved in 
his back pocket that Megan had needed earlier 
and reinserted it over her tongue carefully. 
"You're gonna keep moving air." he sighed. 

A minute later, he was breathing hard with the effort of 
easing himself and Megan over the side of 
the window ledge and into the shattered frame 
of the elevator shaft.  He scrambled his way 
down into the clearer air at the third story, and 
then a bit farther down to the fullest extent and 
reach of his jury rigged hose and there, they hung 
unseen by the overtaxed hospital workers milling 
about underneath their feet. "Boot ... I sure hope you 
got the message. There's no turning back for us." and 
he eyed the fourth floor where he had just left as another 
thick bank of smoke and fuel fumes obscured the 
doorway they had exited. "I don't think I can get 
back up there if my life depended on it." 

To Johnny's dismay, a huge choking smoke cloud swirled 
down Rampart's flank to meet them and completely covered 
them up from view from any potential spotters on 
the ground. 

Gage felt himself getting fuzzy once again 
as the hot brightening dawn wind around them 
suddenly grew too poisoned to breathe. 

----------------------------------------------------------------------

Photo: Johnny caring for an unconscious girl.

Photo: A shattered high rise surrounded by overturned cars.

Photo:  A shirtless Gage next to an outside glass elevator
             at night in smoke looking down four stories.

Photo: Boot barking hysterically.

Photo: A wall housed fire hose cabinet setup in closeup.

***********************************************************
From:  Katherine Bird <kathbird01@yahoo.co.uk> 
Date:  Sat Mar 13, 2004  8:11 pm
Subject:  Mascot Mayhem..

 Mike Stoker's radio sprang to life with
animated voice. ##10-9 last transmission?!##
came at least three lieutenants who were
supporting shotgun as battalion relay backups.
Static and warbles spat from both the 51 firefighters'
HT's but nothing else that was legible got through as
command voice after command voice walked on
each other trying to be the first to deal with Chet
and Stoker's emergency. 

The warbles became an unmistakable tangle.
Mike clicked his talk button in a test but nothing
happened at all when the wind suddenly 
changed, shifting the debris and plane parts piled 
up on top of the fire truck.

"D*mn. We're in a blackout area?! Must be because
the engine repeater's been damaged.." Stoker
guessed. He quickly cased the ground for danger
as he picked his way over fallout to reach the
crushed Crown where he saw her.

Chet pushed his helmet up in frustration on his head
and he ripped off his air mask to shout to anyone
from the luckless station who might be lying hurt and 
trapped in the immediate area. "Hey!..  All in ten's!  
Yell if you can hear me, man.. We see your engine!!" 
he gasped, accepting Mike's hand to haul him over 
a section of plane skin in between two small mag fires.

Only the sound of fire and scorching wind hissed by
their ears. The lack of human voices replying 
spurred Kelly and Stoker into an even more frantic 
search for 10's possible fallen. 

Kelly resealed his SCBA mask over his lips but it didn't 
conceal the anger on his face while the telecommunications 
on his HT's band fell apart when just about every firefighter
at the crash site crowded onto the channel, demanding
more information about the Unit Down call. 

Finally, L.A. broke through with a tones squelch, silencing
the clamouring talkers crowding the line. ##All units, radio
silence... All units, radio silence.. Battalion 12, go ahead. 
Your channel and HT 51's has been put on a signal boosted 
protected band.. Go..##

Numbly, Kelly clutched the fireman's turnout he still had in
his hands and he mumbled.. "This is Bob's.." he said,
his gloves twitching shakily over the grime and blood on the
jacket. Soot smeared Bellingham's name. "That stupid kid
got it away from him somehow...." he whispered in shock.
"Oh Stoker, I'm afraid this is gonna be the thing that freaks 
out the walking rule book.. Brice is gonna sh-"

"Quiet, Chet. I'm on.."
Mike Stoker's voice held no hint of the fear that was
sweeping across his face. His baritone stayed firm
and controlled as he spoke rapidly. "Battalion 12. Engine 
Ten is clearly impact crush damaged.  We are located at 
the nose cone end of the airliner. There was a looter with 
one of ten's turnouts and that's how we found the pumper. 
Also sir, as yet, there's no sign of the jacket's ...uh,...owner 
or the other firefighters.."

##Scene safety?## came the deep stonorous voice of
the assistant chief who was Battalion 14's right hand.

"Minor mag fires, live lines down 18 meters south. There's
a lot of fuel fumes over here blowing downwind of the tail
section. Air bottles are going to be critical for those moving
in." Kelly added. 

##Understood. I'm putting your situation on priority. Inform
me the second you find anybody. I have Squad 51 and
Station 8 responding..##

"10-4.." Mike replied, flinging aside the cumbersome HT
onto a multilated Samsonite luggage case. He fire hooked
tangles of framework away from Engine Ten's back grill,
the only part they could see. 

Kelly shouted.. "Hold it! Hold it Hold it!! Power line!" he
warned. Stoker froze, while Kelly threw Bellingham's
jacket over the sparking electrical cable Mike had 
uncovered. "O.K., it can't writhe free now. Go ahead!"

Stoker got to the engine and climbed into the first hole
he saw, shouting as he went as loud as he could. "Hey!
Can anybody hear me?!  It's 51's!!"

Kelly quickly joined him in the dark space Stoker
had jammed himself into. Finally, he reached the cab's
back window and he rubbed it clean with a sleeve, crushing
his nose against the spidered glass so that he could peer
inside.. "She's empty!!" he said joyfully. "They either got
out or they weren't here when the plane hit..." he sighed
through his sweaty mask.. "My G*d. Battalion 14 must be
out of his mind about this, Stoker.  No one put two and two 
together that the jet crashed where he told 10's to station 
keep!" 

"Who could have?" Mike grunted as he pushed himself back
out the way he had come carefully retracing their route off
the roof of the devastated Crown. "There's over twenty
County and City units here... It's nobody's fault. Just really 
sh*tty bad luck.."

"I know.. I know.. " Kelly said, accepting Mike's soggy glove
for balance as he, too, got down off the engine to resume
their victim search. "But my head hurts anyway. And there's
a poker jammed through my chest that's nothing physical,
about all this."

"Me, too...*gasp* Just keep looking.." Mike said. "They
gotta be around here somewhere.."

"Who says? They're probably scouting the houses like we 
were doing earlier." Kelly said, finding something to ease 
his barely contained fear for their fellow station mates.

"But how do you explain Bellingham being out of
his turnout?" Stoker frowned grimly. "He might be
one who's still around here somewhere.."

Chet and Stoker finally stumbled to the front of 
the buried engine, their eyes confirming that no
firefighters lay as casualties near the big truck.
"Man,.. I wish we could've wrung it out of that kid's
neck about where he found the jacket.. Bob would
never take it off if he was healthy.."

"It could've caught fire..." Stoker theorized. "You know
how insidious magnesium burns are. Or he could've
used it to cover a live victim to stave off shock but
then forgot about it when the stokes recovery teams
moved in."

"Always nice and positive, Stoker. That's what I like
so much, about you. But my instincts are screaming,
man. Don't you feel yours? Something's wrong. And it's
about one of us..."  Kelly insisted, pale and small in
his fire gear, as they began once more, their hazard
scene search pattern's hunt for anything human in
the debris piles.  "I just can't shake it either."

Mike Stoker didn't say anything. He froze a minute
later when he spotted something embedded in the
twisted heart of the violated Crown pumper. Chet
followed line of sight down Mike's arm.. "I don't
believe it.."

"Yeah? Well, call it in and don't touch it. The feddies
will nail our *sses if we disturb anything near it." 
Stoker grunted. "F*ck, why do we find this and not 
Bellingham??"

Chet was impressed with Mike's usually hidden trucker
mouth as he lifted the HT to his faceplate. "L.A. and
Battalion 12.  No sign yet but we have located the
flight recorder. Looks like Engine Ten's hood was the
bullseye."

##Copy that.## Battalion 12 answered. ##Check in at
minute intervals.##

A sterner, foreign voice took over the line. "HT 51.
Touch nothing while you're in there. Our people are
intercepting you now for its recovery.."

Kelly's eyebrows climbed into his hairline.
"You were speaking of the Feds?" Chet said sarcastically.
"My, aren't they speedy.." he growled. "I hope they all
step on a power l--"

"Chet, they're our tax dollars, hard at work.." Stoker
teased, trying to lighten the increasing knot of dread
that he was experiencing as Chet's non-ignorable bad 
feeling took root in his stomach. "It behooves us to
let them... officiate.." he articulated for lack of a better
word.

"Why don't they concentrate on developing better
airport transportation vehicle protocols or something else
that's useful, huh? Hindsight investigation does precious 
little to help the folks we're seeing smeared all over the 
county. I'm almost half tempted to hook that power line we just 
found onto the red box just to fry it so the truth about this crash's 
human/plane maintenance shortcomings will never hit
the media! You heard how those compensators were straining
when she flew over our heads. The victims' relatives deserve better 
than a sterile statement of apology six months from now from 
the FAA, you know.."  Unconsciously, his eyes fell on a
very familiar place inside of Engine Ten.

Mike Stoker took Kelly's trembling arm and led
him away from the cab seat that was the twin of
the one Kelly usually took when on a call on Engine 51.
He noticed that it had been shredded by myriads of metal
shards the length of his arm, some of which were still 
impaling the leather sickeningly. ::That could have been
us, in E 51..:: he realized. ::Someone's watching out
for somebody today, that's for sure.:: he thought and 
he crossed himself, as Roy would've done. "Come on,.. 
we'll try and go back to where we intercepted that teenager. 
Won't be hard to find his footsteps in all this soot and blood 
to trace a trail back to where the jacket might have come 
from. If Bob's still in trouble, chances are better that 
he'll be closer to there than here.. agreed?"

Kelly nodded tightly, fighting his emotions as he
let Mike lead the way. "Glad at least one of us is
thinking clearly.."

"Let's go.." Mike said gently.

As they passed back by the engine, Stoker paused 
only long enough to spray paint her side with the bright
symbol for no bodies found for the other workers, who were
bound to come there anyway they could, just to ease 
their own minds about her current status and situation.

The two of them all but ran back to the depressing
open area where they had found the looter.

It took them four minutes to find Bob Bellingham's
length stretched out in a puddle of fuel face down,
eight meters from where they had corralled the teen
with the severed hose.

Chet and Mike carefully rolled him over onto his back
and Chet dug into Bob's shirt for a carotid. "Still
got one." he grinned. "Looks like his air mask kept
him from drowning in the stuff."

Bob groaned when Mike placed his gloves under his
head to keep his spine still and straight. "Well, that
explains a few things. He's got a goose egg the size
of a grapefruit back here."

"That lousy fink!" Chet exploded, turning his masked
face towards the neighborhood where the rebel teen
had long since departed. "What kind of kid would
mug a firefighter just to get some gear to put on to
go body gawk?"

"A thrill seeker from a broken home?" Stoker ventured.

Chet made a face. Then he turned his attention back
to Bellingham when the man's air-tank-is-empty whistle
began to sound. He pulled off Bob's mask and replaced
it with his own. "Brilliant Sherlock Holmes.. That's a brownie
point for you. This one's his now, Stoker." he said, tapping 
the face plate he held pressed over Bob's nose and mouth 
around the jaw thrust he was maintaining on the mostly out
paramedic. "Gimme yours so I can buddy breathe in peace 
and quiet ok? We'll trade off every two breaths like the usual. 
Do me a favor huh? Keep theorizing this crime scene to 
yourself. I'm so mad at that kid right now, I just might curse him 
with that hex Marco's mom once taught me that Lopez says
always seems to work for her." he cocked his geared head
in another thought. "Or I just might give the other Station
Ten guys his description when we find them and let THEM
deal out a little justice before the cops come."

Smiling and rationing his breath, Stoker lifted his HT to 
report that a Station Ten man had been found alive.

------------------------------------------------------------------------------

"Brice! ... no.." Roy said firmly, grabbing Craig's arm.

They had both just heard Mike Stoker's report on finding 
Bob Bellingham injured soon after the stunning shock
of news announcing Engine Ten's demise. 

Now, the straight laced, usually bureaucratic eye glassed
paramedic was anything but reserved. He almost shook
free of DeSoto's hold on him ; the only thing which
kept Brice from running off into the debris field to get
to Bellingham's side. "Roy, Kelly and Stoker aren't
paramedics. They don't know the first thing about
secondarily surveying a patient! Getting that right is 
critical! "

"True, but they DO know the primary one. You remember..
the one about the A B C's..?" Roy grinned. "Bob's in good
enough hands until Squad 8 gets there. They did say they
had breathing, a regular pulse and that Bob was reactive 
to pain.  He'll get through just fine without you going barging
in there and taking over.." he said necessarily sharp.

"How would you feel if it was YOUR partner lying there
as a victim?" Craig said, not caring how he sounded to
the civilian volunteers milling about them. "I'm sure if
the tables were turned and you were in MY shoes, that
you'd try to expedite a rescue as quickly as possible
yourself, just like what you're accusing me of doing right 
now. Listen to your radio DeSoto.. Hear all that chatter?
That's the sound of three dozen other firefighters who
feel exactly the same way I do right now. "

Roy led Craig out of the food tent by the elbow to
stand near the squad. "Craig.. Craig.. " he interjected
between Brice's long drawn out speech. "Craig.. I- I
understand. But this is triage. We go where they
tell us and not a moment before. I heard Battalion
12 say he was planning on sending us out. So all 
we have to do is sit tight and wait for the word go.. 
all right?"

Right then came a harried rookie from the city
in dusty yellow with an air bottle strapped on
the wrong way. At his feet was Boot, barking
loudly.

"Hey, 51.." said the young rookie. "This your
dog? Listen, you'd better take charge of him
cause my captain's had it up to here with him
grabbing all our pant legs for no good reason.
He's really pissing the guys off.  Broderick almost
blasted him with the engine cannon to clear him outta
our space..."

"What?" Roy said, taking charge of Boot's collar.
The ragged dog was whining and carrying on.
And he was breathing oddly, like he was choking.

The rookie just threw up his hands and walked
away mumbling. "Just keep him away from us,
Truck 226, and you'll have no problems. If he
comes back and becomes the main course on
the chow line, don't come looking for me..."

Craig had already crouched down by Boot's side.
"His name's Boot?" he asked Roy, grabbing the dog
by the head and pulling his chin up to see the cause
of Boot's physical distress.

DeSoto nodded.

Brice pulled a green ink pen out of Boot's mouth
briefly before the dog fiercely retook possession of
it, only to resume his whining and pacing before the two
paramedics with even more urgency.  "I don't know dogs, 
DeSoto. But he's obviously stressed, maybe because 
of all the fatalities around here."

Roy also stooped and petted Boot's back to calm
him but it didn't work. "He's really worked up about 
something. What was that you got out of his mouth?"

Brice suffered a brief tug of war with Boot but finally
yanked the ink pen out of the mutt's maw and he held
it up before the leaping canine snatched it away again.
"Just an ink pen.. how strange.. There's thousands of
better kinds of sticks lying around. Why did he choose
that to play with?" Craig wondered.

Roy got a sudden sinking feeling in his stomach.
"He doesn't play, and when he's onto something like
this, it's because he's tracking someone."

"What?"

"Boot's done this before. When he first started hanging
around the station, on our first call, he actually found a
hiker's backpack along the roadside. Without him, we
wouldn't've ever found the victim. He was eighty feet 
down a beach cliff following a fall..." Roy said absently.

Boot suddenly pushed the pen into DeSoto's hand
and then began to tug his pants leg in earnest, almost
to the point of tipping him over. His whines and frantic
barks continued even more loudly.

Craig said. "What now? We can't keep him in the squad.
It's too hot.." Then he scratched his head. "I know, I'll
tie him up to the running board with a tow line.." And
he finished carrying out his idea.

"Let him go.." Roy said, feeling something dreadful.

The pen that he held up into the rising sunlight was
full of blood stains.

Craig shrugged and then cut the rope in two with his
belt pocket knife.

Boot took off towards Rampart like a shot, but only
along a route that the squad could follow.

DeSoto grew certain.. "He's onto someone who's
in trouble, someone no one else knows about.. Get
in. We'll follow him.."

Brice said, "DeSoto, this is highly illog--"

DeSoto slammed the driver's door after stepping into
the squad and securing his helmet. "Maybe. But we
have no reason to go anywhere else until we're 
formally authorized. Buckle up.."

Soon, Roy pulled up in a clear spot alongside the
outdoor cafeteria out of the way of the line of
ambulances and supply tents and the morgue area.

Boot hastily ran into the cafeteria's courtyard.

"Oh, boy.." Roy said. "The doctors in there aren't gonna
like that.."

But Craig and he got out of the squad, complete with
their air bottles on anyway, to find out where Boot was
headed.

Roy hesitantly stopped at the barrier sealed off entrance
and waved a sweating doctor over to his side.

The M.D. said, "What can I do for you, paramedic....."
and he fished for a name, peering at Roy's sooty name
plate.

"DeSoto.. " Brice supplied when Roy wasn't fast enough.

Roy exchanged looks with Craig in gratitude. "Doc, this
will only take a second. uh,,, H-Have you seen a dog 
in here?"

The blond haired man tossed his head over his left 
shoulder. "Oh, you mean that one?" 

Roy and Craig glanced over to a section of grass
along the brick wall that bordered the eatery. A bloody
collie lay stretched and silent in death near a garbage
can.

The doc went on. "She came in here about two hours
ago looking for her owner most likely. Died of her
injuries before she found anyone.."

Roy blinked..."Uh,, this one's living... about two feet
high, shaggy brown.."

A commotion near the center of the triage section drew
all of their eyes.

Boot was scrambling on top of a table hastily stacked
with emergency supplies and then, impossibly, he
leaped up onto an adjacent umbrella, still stretched
upright and shading patients lying beneath it.

"Hey!!" snapped the doctor. "Get down! Now!" he
yelled, fearing that Boot would slip off and land on
the stokes victims underneath the umbrella.

"Oh my G*d.." DeSoto blurted and he and Craig rushed
forward to drag Boot off his precarious perch.

As they were reaching, they saw where Boot was
staring and barking....up the side of Rampart.

"Johnny!!!!??"  DeSoto cried out.

Brice's HT was in his hand in seconds and he
was talking before Roy drew another breath.
"L.A. , we have a man trapped outside the fourth
floor above the triage area. Also a child. Both
are unconscious and in heavy smoke.. Squad 51
is at scene.."

Roy and Brice barely heard the Battalion Chiefs'
reply nor the unit L.A. was dispatching to aid them.

DeSoto started running for the doors of the hospital
when he felt a sharp jolt as strong hands stopped him.

"Roy,.. what did you just inform me about five minutes ago?
I suggest strongly that we stay put." Brice said evenly.

DeSoto let out a sigh of exasperation, but finally just
joined Boot into staring up skyward, looking for signs of life
in the two still forms dangling from a tied off fire hose, 
above him.

The doctor couldn't tell what was louder, Boot's frantic
barks or Roy DeSoto's urgent yells to the man that
they had discovered in jeopardy. All he knew was
that in a few minutes, he'd have two more victims 
on his roster to worry about.

-------------------------------------------------------------------
Photo :   A red flight recorder nestled in a niche.

Photo :   Battalion 12 on a phone.

Photo:    Brice looking frantic with messy hair.

*********************************************************
Date: Thu, 25 Mar 2004 12:29:43 -0800 (PST) 
From: "Sam Iam" <lafddispatcher@yahoo.com>  
Subject:  Aftermath 

Brice tapped Roy DeSoto on the shoulder to
get around the hindering sound dampening SCBA
tank the paramedic had on. "DeSoto.. Gage's line,
such that it is, looks secure. Let's go meet the bucket 
at the entrance and start clearing a path through
the gawkers for the truck to get in here." he shouted.

Roy, grabbing Boot and praising him ecstatically, 
nodded his masked head vigorously. "Ok. Sounds
like a plan." he said, aiming a powerful flashlight a
quick thinking intern had handed him from a supply
cart, up into the smoke. "I'm not seeing cyanosis on
either one of them. They've got to be breathing."
he added. "Let's go."

The two fully geared firefighters heard Battalion 12
organizing their new rescue priority around the one
Kelly and Stoker were managing, in stereo, from
their cranked volume handi talkies. The radio
commands echoed eerily up the concrete flank of
the hospital and echoed back down to them faintly
over the sounds coming from the triage station
around them. They were only slightly louder than
the moans issuing from the walking wounded lined
up by category along the cafeteria wall.

Soon, ironically, Truck 226 pulled up and Roy and
Brice were met with a familiar sight leaping off the 
rear bumper.

It was the rookie who had "returned" Boot. "Hey,
51.. " the young curly haired man shouted. "Listen..
Sorry about earlier.  I- I didn't know what your mutt was 
up to. I'll do everything I can to get your man down from 
there as fast as I can. Don't you worry. ." and he began 
to rapidly place the anchor plates down on the dusty 
asphalt for the truck's descending stabilizer legs.

"Forget it, kid.." Roy grinned as best he could. "I'll be
the first to admit that Boot DOES get annoying when
he's on full bark and tug mode."

Right then, Truck 226's captain jogged up. He noted
the air tanks Brice and Roy were using and he frowned.
"No one told me jet fumes were blowing downwind into
the triage area.."

"I think they were too busy to realize that, Cap." DeSoto
said, throwing a hand at all the frantic doctors and nurses
working on the rows of patients stretched out in between
all the tipped over dining tables and umbrellas.

"Changing all of that right now.." the gray haired captain
promised. He toggled a talk button. "Truck 226 to Battalions
12 and 14. The wind's shifted southwards from the impact
site towards the hospital and triage area. I recommend you 
set up a series of water curtains to divert the worst of 
the smoke and fumes away from all the patients inside and 
outside of Rampart. They're in a direct line of risk."

##10-4. Truck 226. ## came a dual reply.

Dimly, Roy heard Engine 8 being dispatched to his scene
with three other stations as well as his own. ::I'll just bet 
Bellingham's on his way here right now if they've been 
freed to respond to us.:: 

Slowly, 226's engineer lifted the arching white span of
the bucket's arm upwards from his place inside of it.  
He nodded with satisfaction when he saw Brice peel 
off his gloves to get the two demand valves set up for 
Johnny and the girl. The rookie firefighter insisted on 
those going up with them. 

Soon, both the basket and the three firefighters in it, 
disappeared into the smoke. Unconsciously, Roy lifted 
his HT. "Squad 51 to HT 51. Radio check.."

Craig immediately replied back and his distant figure
suddenly reappeared in a hissing gust and Roy saw him
lift an arm in an affirmation wave as he spoke. ##Loud
and clear, 51. Stand by for info. We're almost there. I
can see them.##

There was a long pause, and Boot in Roy's arms sliced
it wide open with an impatient frantic whine. "Yeah,
I know how you feel, I hate waiting, too, boy."

Then.....

##Squad 51. They're alive. Carotids on both..## came 
Brice's relieved voice.

Roy let out the breath he had been holding and he joyfully
shoved Boot into the squad before grabbing his gear out
of the side compartments. He laid them on a yellow treatment 
tarp on a section of uncluttered grass. He knew he'd be
treating long before the triage doctors even had a space
for his two victims.  He got on the biophone just as Engine 51
pulled in to begin setting up the water curtain to protect
the triage area from the thickening chemical smoke.

Roy gave Captain Stanley an indication of who one of the 
victims was by tapping the number on his helmet. He immediately 
tempered that with a hasty thumbs up to Cap without speaking.

DeSoto saw Hank visibly relax.

Brackett replied to Roy's hail.  ##Squad 51, Go ahead.##

Drumming relieved gloved hands on the squad's hood, 
Stanley nodded at DeSoto in a thanks for the news and
then he scrambled Kelly, Stoker, and Lopez into support
operations.

Roy did one double take as Bob Bellingham was
carried in by Engine 8's crew on a long board. He wasn't
even fitted with an airway underneath the oxygen mask. 
::That's good.:: DeSoto thought. He saw the still and 
wounded paramedic placed on the grass in the line of 
victims classified as red tagged to await his turn for
more aggressive treatment and further assessment. One 
of Station Eight's paramedics parked with him but soon 
automatically volunteered himself to monitor those 
victims in his same row without being told to do so by 
a doctor. 

Dutifully, the medic dragged Bellingham's gurney
into the yellow triage tagged line when the burly man 
awoke and began to ask him legible questions.

Roy sighed and replied to Dr. Brackett.
"Rampart, we've a Code I and a little girl of nine
from a previous rescue. Right now they're inaccessible
but both of them should be freed in a few minutes. 
Please stand by."

------------------------------------------------------------------------

In the Base Station, Kel's face furrowed when he
heard about the child. "Is this the girl from the factory fire
that Joe Early handled earlier?## he demanded to know without 
giving out too much information over the very public biocom 
channel he knew the fire chiefs and L.A. were both monitoring
because of the declared disaster level emergency they
were all facing. 

"10-4.." Roy answered.

##I'm getting her chart now..## Brackett affirmed and 
he turned to tap on the window for Betty, Dixie's stand-in.

"Don't bother.." said a voice near his waist. Kel whirled
to see an arm slinged Dixie McCall in a wheel chair, 
sitting next to him. She nonchalantly held Megan's 
patient slate out to him with her good hand. "I took the
liberty of grabbing this on my way in here."

"Dixie! Just what the h*ll are you doing out of bed?! Who
let you loose?" Brackett boomed.

"Kel, do you think I'm stupid enough to even hint at that
person's name? Besides, I didn't break your orders. My
I.V. finished up just fine and my pressure's holding so here I 
am. Gimme..." and she wriggled fingers for a note pad and 
pencil.

Kel Brackett figured it out. "You sly little vixen. You turned your
Ringers to wide open, to drain it faster, didn't you?"

Dixie merely blinked straight faced at him, not admitting anything.
Then she said. "Now how could I have done that? You had
both my arms strapped down."

Kel didn't even blink back. "Someone else did it then.." he
started to smoulder.

"Ease off, Kel." she pleaded with a half whine of weariness. 
"That firefighter and little Megan both need us right now so
just can it, Kel. Shut up and let's get to work!" she said just 
as brusk, breathing hard.  But then she smiled and the faintest 
hint of pink flushed rapidly into her cheeks.

That convinced Kel as to the progress of her recovery so
he gave her what she wanted sheepishly. "Glad you're back,
Dix, we've missed you."

"Unlikely.. Now, has Roy given you any data yet?"

"Nope. Victims are still stuck high up." Kel said, checking 
the circulation in Dixie's fingers to see how his suturing was 
faring. "Any seepage?"

"Nope.." Dixie said, trying not to wince at the exam. "You
did your usual thorough job, Doctor Frankenstein. Very
neat rows. Looks like I was stitched up by a sewing machine,
instead of by you."

Kel grin's split even further. "I aim to please.." he said, gently
releasing her arm.  "How did you know I'd need this?" he said, 
hefting the metal chart of Megan's.

"Oh, Kel.. I tried to tell you and Morton both about Megan. That's
the whole reason why I went up to the fourth floor after the plane
hit. Let me fill you in. Johnny's the Code I, so get boned up.
That orderly who attended me, with you earlier in the 
Treatment Room, told me more about how Gage and she were 
trapped in their room by fallen scaffolding. Only one back hall 
leads out of their bathroom and that was the one..."

"... that leads behind the glass elevator shaft... hmmmm.." Dr. 
Brackett said thoughtfully. "There's also a supply room in there. 
Something must have happened to effect Johnny's reasoning 
ability or he'd still be in there holing up with Megan."

Dixie had an answer for that, too. "It did. There's a block long 
water curtain going up on the crash side of the building. I remember
seeing those only used to divert toxic smoke away from people
back when I was still training paramedics on ride alongs."

Brackett frowned, and toggled the switch. "Rampart to Squad 51."

##Go ahead, Rampart.##

"Just learned about the bad air outside. What are your victims'
consciousness levels?"

##Both are out, doc. Brice and another fireman's got them on 
positive pressure ventilations assisting their own inhalations.
Both have unimpeded airways, adjunct supported. They say
no signs of laryngospasm are evident . Oh, and the little girl's still 
got her I.V. line. It's intact. Brice said Johnny's signature's on it 
marking it as a new bag. Uhh,..it's I.V.#2..Timed forty five
minutes ago..##

"10-4.  51, I'm fore-authorizing you for 1 cc epinephrine, adult's, and
.3 cc's peds if that condition develops in either victim. Continue 
to update me as your rescue progresses and notify me
as soon as you have patient access. I'm assuming position
as their attending M.D. I'll be faster than those assigned out by you
in the triage area. If I'm needed by you and Brice, I'll be out 
there. Rampart out." 

He sighed and quickly read Megan's patient information
with a practiced flipping of pages. Then he leaned against
the counter with the recording machine and switched it off
to await Roy's next transmission. He regarded Dixie
thoughtfully as she jotted down the last of his orders to
Squad 51. "Just how did you know beyond just his and your
guessing, that Johnny and Megan had gotten into that hallway? "

"The orderly went down to the security office and had them
aim a camera onto the floor to look for biosigns on the tiles.
They found some blood, and an arrow of coloring pens,
pointing in the direction of the elevator shaft."
  At Brackett's puzzled look, she elaborated. "This afternoon,
I sort of...snuck up there to check on Johnny by taking over 
some of Megan's lab work and saw that they were arguing
over custody of a green pen that she had on the table.  I just
put two and two together.." she said bowing her head fractionally.

"I don't know whether to congratulate you or throttle you for
leaving the ER twice, unannounced, during a crisis alert."
Kel grimaced, waving Joe Early into the room to order him
to take over as ER head while he went to rendevous with Roy.

"I did pay the price, Kel. I argued with a window losing a battle
with a crashing airplane." and she lifted her splinted arm in
emphasis.

Kel fell silent and brooding without anger. "Pain getting too much?"

"Nope.." she trickled instantly. "This one isn't an ankle. I can take an
arm over a foot any day of the week. That time bothered me. This time,
it doesn't." she said evenly. "Besides, what's my color showing you?"

Kel stroked her cheek in a brief show of affection. "That you're hungry.
Go eat. I promise I'll call you the moment Roy calls back in. I'm clearing
you for some oral intake. If you don't spill anything on my suture job, 
I'll forget you were ever AWOL." he said marking down his
orders on the run sheet he pulled down from the file box next
to the EKG monitor.

"Deal, I'll be back with some coffee just for you."

"Good luck. All the pots are empty..." he grinned without
looking up. "As of three hours ago."

"No, they're not. I know all the hiding places.
I'll do some acting as the poor hurt head nurse and beg
some off the student squirrelers." 

The last part of her sentence was punctuated by the
sound of a fast opening door onto the busy ER.
Kel thought. ::Oh no she doesn't...::
"Hey!" Kel yelled after Dix, holding the glass door of
the base station open so that he could see her retreating
back. "You forgot your wheel chair.. And why don't you
fess up and tell us doctors about those hiding places..?"

"Nurses' autonomy.. Live with it and accept that you're 
simply SOL, doctor." her voice floated sweetly 
back to him. "Thanks for lifting my chow restriction,
I'm starving!"

Kel launched the empty wheel chair out of the little 
transparent room and narrowly missed hitting Joe
Early with it as he breezed in.

Joe didn't bat an eye and deflected the wheeling
obstacle away from his knees with a foot neatly
agile. "Problem, Kel?" he asked picking 
up the orders Brackett had just finished dictating.

"Head nurses and firefighters.. Who can live with them?"
Kel said without elaborating further.

"Us, Kel. Can't live without 'em. Remember that when 
you're old and gray like me." Dr. Early smiled mildly.
"They're your bread and butter for the whole paramedic
program which you created, by the way, doctor." he said 
cheerfully.

"Don't remind me." Kel grumbled. "Better have someone
get a forklift to pull Johnny Gage's chart from Records again.
He went down while playing Batman on the side of the
building."

"What's he doing out there?"

"He got a kid out of the only patient room endangered
by that mess outside. His own. Smoke made him attempt
his current idiotic stunt gone bad, and he's now hanging,
out cold above triage instead of staying nice and safe in  
a supply room."

"Terrific.. I'll get Respiratory Therapy ready. Want a couple
of bronchoscopy trays set up for your jump bag? I assume 
you are giving me the entire ER's reins while you go play
Doctor Do Right out in triage."

"You guessed right."

Right then, a candy striper trotted into the base station
alcove with a mug of steaming coffee. She went right
to Kel Brackett with it. "Compliments of Dixie, doctor."
and she sailed right back out again.

Joe melted. "Oh!  That's real coffee! Where'd you manage
to materialize that, Kel? I've been licking the dry coffee
ring in MY mug for hours." he asked drooling.

"Go see, Dix, Joe. She's the head of a secret society 
of illegal java poolers."

"Huh?" Joe blinked.

"Never mind. Just look for the sky blue splint and you'll spot
her if you want to get some for yourself."

"Splint?! She's hurt?" It was Joe's turn to get sharp.
"Why didn't anybody inform me?"

"There wasn't time. Morton and I handled her surgery 
ourselves."

"Dixie was hurt enough for surgery?!"

"MINOR surgery, Joe. So don't get your shorts in a knot.
A brachial tear from glass. Easily repaired. Now shoo.
Go be my leader. "

"But.."

"Dixie'll tell you about it all herself no doubt before I'm
through with this call. And she'll probably yarn about 
Johnny here, a bit, too. " he said, tapping the biophone 
radio receiver and the run sheet he had scribbled
the firefighter's name onto.  "Oh, and did I tell you that the
child he had with him is actually Megan Miller? I know you 
saw her this morning but I'll be seeing her now out in triage 
after you take over for me."

Dr. Brackett wisely closed base station door on 
Early's scowling face as Roy's voice sounded in
once more on hail, grinning like a banshee at the 
sight of his colleague absorbing the double whammy
news shocks like a trooper.

He took a deep breath to fortify himself and flipped
the  recorder back on.
##Go ahead, 51. I read you loud and clear.## 
Kel toggled, answering Roy's request for contact.

 
"Rampart, we've extricated both victims. We're getting
both on EKGs on simultaneous telemetry.  The adult male's 
via the defib paddles and the girl's through the Tetronix. He's
tachycardic and I don't know why. He's got a weird 
V-Tach with a pulse."

##10-4, .....uh.. 51,....I know the identity of your Code I. Given
his past surgical history, I'm ordering you to draw a red top
for a cross match for a prelim RBC count. Then start a 500 
cc D5W I.V. on him but keep it TKO until we've determined  
the cause for his arrythmia. I'll be right out there in three 
minutes after you send me those strips.##

"10-4. Transmitting both now on Lead Two.."

##Link established..## Kel confirmed.

He was still studying the EKGs when Joe showed up and
parked Kel's favorite jump bag into the wheel chair still
partially blocking the way into the receiving alcove.

Joe paused long enough to look at Megan's strip before
he darted off to run the ER department in Kel's stead.

Brackett abandoned his post and hurried past
the security checkpoint and out into the cafeteria commons. 
He pushed the wheel chair full of gear along with him 
and also a spare O2 upright apparatus that he found 
unclaimed against a wall. 

It was still full with ample suctioning tubes and a cleverly
added tracheotomy kit around its regulator.

----------------------------------------------------------------------

Roy DeSoto didn't even reprimand Brice about where
he placed Johnny and Megans' mutual stokes. They
were lined up in the red row adjacent to where Bob
Bellingham was lying in the yellow one. ::That's bending 
the rules a bit but if the situations were reversed, I'd be 
doing exactly the same thing by trying to get close.
He's gotta know how his partner's doing.::
he admitted mentally.

DeSoto lifted the paddles away from Johnny's ribcage,
his strip reading send now complete. Brice had already
assessed Megan and found her the more stable of
their two patients. Now, Craig was sweeping down 
Gage from his head on downwards, pausing only long 
enough to get in a fast pupillary check.

Roy decided to speed up finding out what was wrong
with his partner by beginning palpation of his abdomen.
His gloves were just about pelvis level when Craig 
shouted. "Freeze, DeSoto. That lump in his pocket
may be a drug needle. His pupils are constricted 
and that with his odd tachycardia might spell atropine.
He's smelling like anesthetic similar to a surgery store 
room."

How Brice smelled that over all the acrid 
chemical smoke leaking off Gage's blue jeans,
Roy couldn't even begin to guess at. He just
chalked it off as another quirky Brice talent.

"Johnny, self treated himself for sure?" Roy asked 
aloud.

Roy checked carefully in the suspicious pocket and 
he blinked when he indeed, found a .3 mg syringe packet 
full of atropine. Its needle was lacking a cover. Brice had 
just saved him from a nasty, unpleasant injection
and needle stick.

"Yeah.. It's almost guaranteed. His blood pressure trend
confirms it.  Up there, we got not even orthostatic changes 
happening while we were securing him for lowering. 
B.P.'s still unmoving and rock solid at 92/58." he said,
taking the stethoscope out of his ears. "That was very 
smart of Gage to use atropine. There was enough
cyanide in that smoke up there to choke a horse. Our
jacket indicators changed color right away."

Roy didn't miss Brice's quick glance towards his partner
lying so close and yet so far away in the next row of
victims.

He got up and knelt so that he was in between Megan
and Gage's stokes. Then DeSoto said, "Go, Brice."

"What?" Brice stammered, still adjusting the I.V. on 
Gage while his other hand stuffed it under his shoulder.

"Go visit Bob. I won't tell. I'll just give you a heads up when I
eyeball Brackett coming our way." DeSoto offered.

"Thanks, DeSoto." Brice said uncomfortable about
breaking a rule. But that didn't stop him from scooting
over to Bob and donning a new pair of gloves so that
he could do a once over on Bellingham himself under 
the eye of the paramedic attending Bellingham.

Roy saw Brice take Bob's hand into his own
as he spoke quietly to him, in tearful relief.

Right then, Gage twisted his head out from under
the demand valve being used on him by an Engine
8 man, and spat out his oral airway, groaning.

Roy immediately bent down close to his face.
"Johnny.. you're both safe on the ground. You gotta
tell me. How much atropine did you use on yourself?
Your rhythm's racing and we want to know why."

"Megan fir--" Johnny croaked, getting testy with 
the firefighter hovering above him when he
tried to replace the oyxgen over his face.
He swatted it away. "Megan first.."

"She's stable and breathing. No airway
problems. Talk to me about it now, Johnny.."
Roy said no nonsense.

"Ok, ok, ok.. Point Three. Once. Had to.
*cough*  I had a..*gasp* sh*tload of edema..."

"I heard the rales. You got em on both sides."

Gage moaned. "Oh nooo" he gushed in disgust. 
".. that means aspirant pneumonia in my future for sure.. 
That means two weeks more time set for me in the hospital, 
Roy." he said in a high, complaining whine.

"I know.. just let the man ventilate you some more.
Morgan. Switch to an ambu and help him on the in's.
15 liters." he ordered.  Then he smiled mischieviously 
as he moved over to recheck Megan's progress under
her vents with a stethoscope. "Brice thinks your using that 
med saved your life, Johnny. Way to go, junior. "

Johnny shifted his weight on the uncomfortable mesh of
the stokes and tried to grin. 

The smile suddenly wiped from Roy's face. "Johnny, 
keep still, you're in un-specific V-tach. Brackett's on 
his way here now to personally check you out himself.
It may be a chemical reaction from the smoke with
your blood and your atropine shot because you've no 
splenic backup volume to counteract it."

Gage eyeballed the defib paddles in between
his feet and shuddered. ::V-tachs can be tricky.
And I've never coded. That's in Roy's history. Not
mine.:: Johnny forced his brain to think quieter, 
calmer thoughts. "Is a blood transfusion in the 
works for me, too?" he whispered.

Roy's lips reclaimed his mirth. "No, probably just
a course of sodium nitrate to burn the CN out of
your system."

"Wish Boot were here. He'd make me feel a 
whole lot better about all this."

"He IS here. In the squad parked nearby."

Roy gave a nod to the nervous worried rookie
from Truck 226 still hanging around. He tossed
him the squad keys. "Here, 226. Why don't
you go let him out for my partner here."

"Right.." said the curly kid eagerly. He took
off so fast to do the task that his mask detached
from the air bottle and thunked into the dust.

Boot scrambled over, retrieved the mask
for the rookie, passed it off, and then promptly
returned to Johnny's stokes, laying his weary
head on his bare stomach with a wavering sigh
of relief.

"Ok, Roy, quit biting your lip. I'm shutting up right now."
Johnny sighed. "Pump away, Morgan. " he said when he 
saw that the Station Eight firefighter had finished setting up 
the new oyxgen equipment for him. "I'm all yours.." and he 
submitted to his assisted lung expansion treatment under
the bag valve mask with loosely closed his eyes. 

DeSoto saw Gage relax into a post atropine stupor.
"That's right, sleep and you'll wake up on a nice comfortable
bed later tonight. I promise."

A snore peeled out from under the ventilation mask.

-------------------------------------------------------------------------

Turning heads alerted Roy to Brackett's vectoring approach.
He whistled loudly so that Craig would hear him.

Brice slunk back like a combat soldier under fire 
to rise up at Megan's side in an immediate act of never 
having left as Kel wheeled his gear and chair next to them.

"Status?" he barked at Roy and Brice.

Both rattled off sets of vitals and treatment times
and the new finding of atropine use prior to 
rescuing, in Johnny.

"Hmm, I'll have to have a talk with him about that
later.." Kel said, resetting the paddles on Johnny's
blood flaked chest to see how his heart was doing.
"Working for now. But we're not moving him until
most of these PVC's go away."

Roy volunteered information. "He's got receding rales
on both sides, doc." he emphasized pointedly. "Those rales 
used to be loud ones. You know with that level of
edema, untreated, he would've been a dead man half an 
hour ago.." he said brandishing the second unused 
atropine packet that he had pulled out of Johnny's jeans 
pocket.   

"Maybe I won't be talking to him later about that."
Brackett suddenly amended, pulling back Johnny's
eye lids to see the extent of his smoke inhalation 
sleepies under a penlight.

Roy nodded with satisfaction.

Brackett and Roy both turned their attentions to the
little girl.

Kel nodded to the fireman ventilating her on the demand
valve and set his wheeling O2 apparatus next to him. 
"Switch to an ambu, like Gage's. It'll be easier on her
alveoli if they've been burned by the smoke. Here's a 
peds BVM and mask. Is she still pulling easily?" he 
asked the man at her head.

"Yeah, doc. She hasn't been sick. I'm
not smelling anything. Her voluntary rate's about 30 
and only a touch shallow. I've been bumping her up
to 36, while keeping everything I do light."

"Good. That'll drive out the cyanide a little faster
and clear that fluid from her bronchial passages.
Most of that is probably from the I.V. Johnny wasn't
able to turn back down again before he passed out
on that wall up there."

Roy nodded and absently lifted a sweat loosened 
EKG pad on Megan's side long enough to dry her skin 
with her cut away patient gown before replacing it back
down more firmly. "I checked for infiltration on that I.V. 
site, doc. There's none."

"Well, seems even half dead, our Johnny's a star paramedic.
His rappelling didn't even jostle Megan's I.V. out of that vein?" 
he asked again while he tried to awaken Megan with
a sternal rub.

Roy laughed. "Not at all."

Brackett afforded the sleeping Johnny a grudging look
of respect that he would never have given Gage while he
was awake, just for Roy and Brice's benefit.
"Roy, get that head wrap off Megan. I wanna 
see how responsive her pupillary reaction 
is on that oxygen."

Megan's face slowly scrunched up into pain after Dr. 
Brackett gave her the epinephrine Roy handed
him that he had prepared on his earlier orders. He tried
another rub on her breast bone and got an arm jerk.
He deftly pulled out Megan's airway and the Engine Eight 
man got a working suction tube ready in case Brackett 
needed it .The fireman set his BVM in between his knees 
for a moment when the girl started talking softly.

"...Mr. Gage?"... Megan coughed.

"Easy, hon. He's ok. And so are you..." Brackett
soothed.

Boot noticed the change in the child and immediately
padded over to lick her face in encouragement.

Megan's sooty face broke out into a terrific smile.
"Who's this?" she wondered.

"That's Boot. " Brice offered. "Mr. Gage's firehouse's 
mascot. He's the one who made sure we got
there to rescue you two off the fourth floor."

"Good boy..." she said, reaching up shakily to pet his
coat. "Good boy.." she coughed again, liquidly and that
made Kel order the girl's assisting O2 to be continued.

Right then, the station 51 gang jogged up to sneak in
a visit on their coworker like Brice had done with
his partner, the Animal. 

Megan's face burst into a wide smile at the sight of
Chet Kelly. "Oh, you're Johnny's friend! Hi! *gasp*
Don't worry. He's ok.. I took care of him real good.
I gave him the shot and he got better fast."

"You did what, hon?" Kel Brackett blinked.

Megan's face fell away in sudden worry.
"That was ok, wasn't it? He was making funny
noises and his lips were turning purple. I just 
had to do what Mr. Gage asked me to do."

Dr. Brackett, Brice and Roy's faces all beamed.
But Chet was the one who spoke. "So,.. we've
a real hero in our midst." and he crouched down
beside the little girl.  He uptook one of her damp
hands after shoving his helmet a little higher onto
his head to loosen its chin strap enough to take
it off in tribute to the child. "Anyone who saves my 
friend is definitely a friend of mine. Nice to meet 
you little lady.."

"I've jokes to tell you, mister. Mr. Gage said to memorize
them for you."

"Jokes? I collect jokes. All kinds. But I think we oughta
do that later until after you're all better. Ok?" Kelly
suggested. "These folks here look kind of busy right
now."

"Sure, mister." and Megan closed her eyes. "We can color
later, too, with green pens cause they're Johnny's favorite."
she added before drifting off again under the oyxgen mask.
 
"Geesh," Marco remarked. "Gage is sure good with
all the chicks. Even the little ones." he chuckled.
"She's absolutely tickled with Johnny. A real friend
for life.."

The gang chuckled.

Cap gestured and said. "Ok, break time's over.
Move it out. We've got a water curtain team to exchange
with. Roy, you and Brice can stay put. The prelim 
search's over scene wide and our smoke control
is working well enough just as we are for right now."

"Find anyone from the airplane alive?"

Hank's face softened in sadness. "Fraid not.
But there's good news. Only seven on the ground
were killed. And then just these few dozen in here
who got hurt."

"Thanks for the update, Cap..."

Hank started to herd his men away but Roy
stopped him.."Uh,, how's Battalion 14 handling
the Station Ten thing?"

"He's not, emotionally. But the chiefs decided 
right away that his hands were too full at the time 
to realize that unit's missing status as a possible casualty.
Nothing official will be reprimanding him, except for
perhaps, his own conscience. Besides, no harm's
done. No one except Bellingham was anywhere
near that truck when the jet crashed. And HIS lumps,
Stoker tells me, are from a looting mugger."
And he turned to leave.

Marco took charge of their mascot as they left.
"Come, Boot. Good boy. Thanks for finding
Johnny and that little girl for us. Come, on.. quit
dragging your feet. They're all right. Are ya hungry?
Thought so. Let's go get some chow and a long
drink."

Lopez didn't even have to tug on Boot's collar to
get him to follow him.

Before Station 51's gang was out of sight,
Dr. Brackett had Johnny's heart rhythm stabilized 
from the assortment of drugs in his bag.

Megan and Gage were moved inside by Station Eight's
crew while Roy, Brice and Dr. Brackett remained outside
to treat those still awaiting care in the cafeteria.

Slowly, the rising column of acrid smoke and flames
from the impact crater in the parking lot lessened
enough to stop threatening them all and those watching
from inside the broken windows of Rampart.

The sun was almost set when Station 51 was cleared
of the disaster area for some well deserved rest and
recuperation. They, as one of the original responders, 
weren't assigned to body recovery detail at any time
that night, much to Chet Kelly's relief.

---------------------------------------------------------------------------

Soon, it was four days later, and the stationhouse
was pretty much back into its regular routine of responses.

Operations at the crash site and in that neighborhood 
continued without their having to become involved 
in them any further.

Then,..a commotion came from the vehicle bay..
 
----------------------------------------------------------------------------

Photo : A triage scene with ambulances and firetrucks.

Photo : Roy in an air bottle leaning over. 

Photo: A triage tag.

***************************************************************
 From :  patti keiper <pattik1@hotmail.com> 
 Sent :  Friday, March 26, 2004 8:49 AM 
 Subject :  [EmergencyTheaterLive] Above and Beyond.. 

....that got all the gang's attention. It was Johnny's voice,
accented by a lighter, happy treble one. Chet bounced
to his feet, abandoning his burger and he said,  
"Come on, you guys! I've waited days to meet Megan 
Miller officially, so let's get the lead out.." 

Kelly scurried out of the kitchen so fast that his shoes
screeched on the floor, leaving behind long, trailing black
skid marks.

Marco hissed through his teeth. "Aww, Chet! Look at
what you're doing to my floor! Cap,.. make him clean it
up.."

"I will, I will, pal." he gestured with two hands diplomatically.
"Just, let's go greet our little guest and find out why Gage's
not still flat on his back at Rampart."

Lopez moped verbally but plodded after his calm, contented 
captain dutifully.

Brice matched Hank in cool as he, too ambled into the garage.

Megan was with Johnny Gage over by the side door, and with
her was a white shaggy mop of a dog whom Boot immediately
started barking suspiciously at from the kitchen doorway.

The white dog howled once that made Boot twist his head in
puzzlement until the newcomer sank his chest onto the concrete
in an invitation to play. Boot was won over and in a flash, the two
canines were scrabbling happily, playing tag under the vehicles,
in a chase, all the while leaving chicken scratch black marks all over
Marco's nice and shiny, washed concrete.  

"Cappp!" Lopez groaned in long suffering.

Hank's charming smile for the little girl fell into one of irritation.
"Lopez, just what am I supposed to do here? Lasso them with
a rappelling line?"

"It's a start.." Marco said, flailing his arms, trying to round up
the happy dogs as best he could. "Come on, guys. Help me out
here. They'll shred my wax job!"

He was ignored.

Craig Brice squatted down in front of Megan and offered her
a handshake. "Hello, Miss Miller. Are you well?" he said
over Marco's howls and the dogs loud gleeful barking.

"Oh, yes sir. Daddy came and got me out of the hospital yesterday
and Mr. Gage was released on his own.. recom,.. recop.." she broke
off, looking to Johnny for some grammar aid.

"That's reconnaissance, half pint."

"No kidding.." Cap said, his eyes asking volumes.

Roy crossed his elbows, smiling just the same, but not
understanding Gage's glib comment either. All he
knew what that Johnny was still suffering pneumonia
and hiding it badly.

Johnny saw their questioning looks and elaborated. 
"Oh, it's gonna be the latest thing Dixie says. 
Home healing. You see, Dr. Morton asked for some volunteers
for patients to go home a little early to recover. You only
gotta do a phone check once a day to a doctor so he can
see,..er. hear how you're doing. Heh. Anyways, Dix says that I'll 
just get better faster because I'm in more familiar surroundings.."

Craig's eyebrows rose. "In that bachelor heap of yours?"

"Brice..." Johnny hissed warningly with a smile to hide his
insulted reaction. "It's a new program starting up in
the hospital.."

"You're a liar, Mr. Gage." Megan said evenly from where
she was sitting on the engine bumper and telling Chet all her 
jokes. "We were kicked out. For being noisy."

The gang laughed.

"Thanks, Megs. " he said sarcastically, like only one friend
could say to another. "But I was kinda trying to..."

"..not tell the truth. I know. But that's sooooo wrong." she
said sweetly.

"Yes,.. uh, ..yeah. I guess it is.." he stammered.

Chet suddenly let out a peel of mirth. Slowly, he
circled Gage like a sargeant conducting an inspection,
eyeing up the changes he was seeing in Johnny's
manner. "Man, she's really got you, Gage, you know
that?  Are you jumping through hoops to try to become
a decent human being for the first time in your life?"

"No.. I was just... just.." Johnny blushed.

"Keeping your friend happy, I know. I saw it. All of
us did." he said as he cracked a toothly smile.
"Right guys?"

Murmurs of agreement bubbled around the bay 
like a brook over pebbles.

Chet's eyes fell lower, eyeing up something new
in Johnny's plaid shirt's pocket. "And what's this,
might I ask?" And quickly, he snatched up a green
pen that was only one of several sticking out of it.

Roy said, "Hey, that's the pen that Boot found at
Rampart. I can tell by the tooth marks."

Cap and Marco and Stoker and Kelly were clueless,
so Brice filled them in. "Johnny threw that down from
where he and Megan were trapped the day of the
crash so Boot would go get help."

Megan piped up from  a three way tug of war
she was in with the two dogs, and a rope scrap. 
"Yeah,.. I'm slowly teaching Muffin here how to do
the same thing. "

"Muffin?" Chet eye's goggled at the large white
sheepdog bullpenning around the garage.

Megan didn't hear him, but continued her conversation.
"Those pens are Mr. Gage's lucky rabbit's feet now.
He promised me that he would keep them with him
for always so he wouldn't ever forget me."

Johnny's face blushed even redder.

Kelly dove in like a shark. "Aww, how sweet of
you, Gage. Didn't know you had it in you."

"Yeah, charming." Cap grinned warmly.

Brice nodded a tiny bit, still all professional.

Roy and Marco just rubbed their lips thoughtfully,
saying nothing.

Gage cleared his throat under the uncomfortable
scrutiny. "Listen, Cap.. I got your phone call.. you
know, about..." and he jerked his head over his
back a couple of times in a particular direction.

"What's the matter, Gage? Sudden palsy?" Chet
quipped. "Hey, Roy. I think you'd better check him
out. He might be having a relapse of lung poisoning."

The gang rippled in giggles.

"Very funny, Chet. Now, Cap.." Gage insisted more
urgently, adding fingers to his jerking head. "Remember?"

Slowly, Hank realized that Johnny meant Megan.
It dawned. "Oh, oh oh..." he said, "That's right.  My phone
call. " and he cleared his throat knowingly. "I'll be right
back." he said, smiling amicably, and he hurried off to 
his office for a moment.

"Great, Cap.. just...uh,  great.." Gage mumbled.

"What's that all about, Gage?" Marco asked.

"Shhh.. or she'll catch on.."

Megan heard Johnny and just winked at the 
other guys when Gage wasn't looking.

"You know, Johnny. I think she's already caught on.
Megan's sure is one bright cookie." Chet guessed.
"I learned that the other day."

Roy just went into another direction to fetch a certain
box from the mop closet that they touched only seldom
and he set it down at their feet.

"Hey, that's.." Marco interjected.

"Shhh." Gage silenced him with a hand over his mouth.

Captain Stanley returned, wearing his captain's hat
and gestured for everyone else to don their dress hats
in kind and to form a line standing at attention.
In his hands was a blue velvet hinged box with
gold embossing. "Would you join us for a moment, Miss
Miller?" he asked the child after they all retrieved their
proper sized hats from the box on the ground.

Megan looked up from her game. "Oh,.. certainly.." she
said, tossing the ropy shred away from her so the dogs
chased after it, instead of her. "What's going on?"

"Do you see this, young lady?" Hank said grandly and opened
the box. "This is a gold cluster, the fireman's medal of valor.
It's the highest honor that we can bestow on anyone showing 
courage above and beyond the call of duty. And the Los Angeles 
County Fire Department would like you to have it."

Megan's breath sucked in and her eyes teared up.
"For me?"

"For you." Hank said softly. "You saved the life of my
paramedic the other day, remember doing that?"

"Just because I gave Mr. Gage that yucky shot?"

"Yeah, it was a yucky shot." Gage said. "Hurt like
hel-- uh heck.. But I'm grateful.. Truly I am. And..this."
he pointed to the medal and box in Megan's hand.
"Is the only way I can show it good enough to you
that's still allowable by the fire department."

"Oh, Mr. Gage..." Megan sobbed. "I don't know what
to say.." she said, fighting back tears. "I've never won
anything so valuable in my life before."

"That wasn't won, little miss." said Brice, "That was
earned... Congratulations.." and he bent low to shake
the little girl's hand. One by one, all the gang took
and shook her palm, too, sweeping off their hats in
respect as she made her way down the line.

"Oh,.. just wait until I show Daddy!" and she rushed
off to the back lot yard where the little girl's father was 
waiting for her in an idling Grand Torino.

Muffin took off after his mistress in a cloud of white
fur. 

"Megan, wait!" Gage called out after her. "Don't
you want to stay for some cookies and milk?" he
asked shouting. 

The girl was oblivious.

"Megan?!" Immediately, Johnny bent over into
a spasm of left over chest coughing that didn't ease
until the gang helped him into the kitchen with Stoker
and Marco helping arm sling support him into Cap's 
black leather recliner.

Marco hastily handed him a glass of water.
"Here, Gage. This might help."

"Oh, thanks, Marco.." and Gage drank it down
in one gulp.

Brice asked Roy. "DeSoto. Should I go grab
a BP cuff or a stethoscope so we can listen to
his chest? That sounds like deterioration."

"I can get oxygen.." Stoker volunteered.

"Yeah, you go do that.." Cap insisted. "And
grab the biophone, too."

Roy shook his head and dismissed the question with
a short flurry of fingers. "Guys, guys.. He's fine.."

"He is?" Marco asked in amazement. "He still 
sounds like death warmed over to me. And them."

Chet wasn't buying Johnny's sick act in the least
being firmly in Roy's camp, too. "Come, on. Johnny.
Quit faking it. I don't think Megan's coming back so
you can give up this broken wing act. I think, for
her, it's a case of baubles over buddies, pally."

"Who's faking it? I'm a sick man here. Come on,
Chet. As-pir-ant  pneu-mon-ia. I know you can say it
out loud and I know you know what it is. It sucks,
big time." and he pitched over in another paroxym
of huge wet coughing that made even Roy begin to
doubt his first assessment, as Johnny's face began
to redden up.

Brice's frown began deepening, too.

....until Johnny suddenly got better and straightened 
up with a mischievious grin. "Got at least some of you
that time. Thanks for the chair, Cap. It's real comfortable.."
he said, folding relaxed arms up and lacing fingers behind
his wavy haired head. "Now I really feel like I'm back home
again."

He barely ducked in time to avoid the sheer rain of kitchen
towels and newspapers that came flying into his face.


FIN  

-------------------------------------------------------

Photo : Megan with a white sheep dog in her arms.

Photo : Marco mopping.

Photo: Brice looking analytical.

Photo: Stoker Johnny and Roy with a green pen.

Photo: A gold fire departmental medal of valor.

Photo: Boot lying down in the garage.

*****************************************************
 
            
           
              :)    This episode is dedicated to 144 souls who perished
                    on September 25th, 1978 when PSA Flight 182
                    collided with a Cessna airplane. They fell out of the sky 
                    into a residential San Diego neighborhood. This was a real 
                    life event which took place six months to the day after 
                    Emergency!© aired its airliner disaster movie entitled 
                    Survival on Charter 220, depicting the same scenario.             :)                                                                                                    :(          

@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@
 
The Story Unfolds...

Season Two, Episode Ten..  
      
  From Loaves To Fishes 

 
******************************************************
Date: Thu, 8 Apr 2004 18:56:43 -0700 (PDT) 
From: "Jeff Seltun" <finiterider@yahoo.com>  
Subject:  Needle In A Haystack.. 
 
 
Chet Kelly took a firm bite into his donut and ambled into
the predawn of the station's backyard. He was still sleepy
and rubbed the crusty stones out of his eyes.. Then he
rubbed them again.  

A strange pickup truck was parked in the usual spot
where Gage's land rover was usually angled in and 
Johnny was perched in the load bed, holding...

"...A pitchfork?.." Chet gaped, then he began to chuckle,
waking up more fully. "Hey guys,  come out here and get a 
load of this.. I swear, you aren't gonna believe this one bit."

Johnny just paused in his assigned chore, knee
deep in sweet smelling straw, spreading the bed evenly
throughout the back of the truck..."..wonderful..." he mumbled
sarcastically. "There goes Kelly, always sticking his nose
in things. Maybe I should've waited on doing this until later."

Kelly was soon joined by coffee wielding firemen fresh
out of bed. Henry's snores, could just be heard through the
open screened kitchen window. Chet turned around 
at a scuffle of gravel and glanced back towards the shadowy
silhouette of the station.

Stoker was running fingers through sleep matted hair and
Cap was already foaming his jawline with a cream brush for
a straight razored shave, a neatly folded white towel slung 
over a shoulder. Marco was just plain yawning and Roy was 
not far behind Lopez, buttoning into a fresh uniform top.

"Kelly?" Hank asked. "What's the problem? Did you check the
meter yet like I asked you to?"

"No, Cap. Check this out first. Just take a good look around, ok?
What do ya see?" Chet said expansively, gesturing about the yard 
with broad spread arms.

"Ahhhhh.." Cap said scratching his head. "The rush hour
on the freeway? Sounds like it's backed up over an hour
longer than normal this morning. Odd. It's not even the 
weekend. Maybe a crash just occurred. We'll know about it
in a few minutes if that's the case."

"No, no no.. nothing so obvious, Cap. Now just open your 
eyes bigger for just a second. Look what one of your 
paramedics is doing right over there.." Kelly
sputtered in frustration.

Cap's eye fell on Roy, who was immediately to his
left. "..Ok.. uhh, That one of the new uniform shirts, Roy?"

Kelly turned purple. "No.. Gawd. Aww come on, do I 
have to spell it out for you fellas? Cap, you 
usually aren't this slow. Don't tell me that
you're tired." Chet bemoaned.

"Chet, at this time of the morning. Yes, I am. You know
I haven't gotten a hold of Marco's coffee pot yet.
Not until I get myself at least halfway presentable
for day shift do I fire off enough brain cells to
matter."

Marco said, "Yeah, that's right, Chet. He doesn't."

"Stubble and java just don't go well together, Chet.
And neither will you and a mop if you don't start
cutting the chaff! It's cold out here.."  Captain Stanley
grumbled rubbing the goose bumps erupting out on
his bare T shirt exposed arms.

Chet was cowed, but only on his face. His voice was
still thoroughly annoyed at his crewmates' lack of
observational skills.  "It's Gage, man. He's up to 
something fishy, I know it."

Hank spun his gaze around, squinting into the darkness
towards Johnny, who was still pitchforking apart a
bale of straw inside the rental truck. "No, I'd say 
he's doing only what I asked him to do.."  

And with that, Cap and the rest of the gang retreated 
once more back into the oven warmed kitchen, leaving
Kelly behind with his mouth hanging open.

"Better close that real soon or you'll start drawing flies 
in.." Johnny quipped, cracking a crooked smile while he
worked. Dusting his hands off, Gage gave a satisfied
grunt and leaped down out of the truck's bed to the ground. 
Only then, did Chet see that Gage wasn't in his paramedic's 
uniform. 

Johnny ambled slowly towards Chet, swaggering, with his
fingers hooked through his jeans belt loops. "So, are you 
going to ask ME anything here, Chet? You already failed at 
getting it out of them. It would've been easier doing that
instead of harrassing the guys about it in the first place."

Chet made a face and rubbed his nose. "Would you
have answered me?"

Johnny's face fell into serious lines.. Then his
lip curled up wickedly in a grin and he headed for the 
kitchen door.  "Nope. Just go ahead and ask now. Won't
hurt you any to give in a little to get what you wanna 
know."

Chet paced a full meter behind Johnny for long seconds.
Then he almost whispered.. "You working today?"

"Nope." came Gage's quick reply.

Chet set his hands on his hips.. "Well you answered THAT
question just fine. "

"That's the only question you've PUT to me so far, Chet.
I'm not a mystic, you know."

Kelly groaned and rolled his eyes painfully, accepting
his current oneupmanship lump with a decent sized shred 
of grace. 

Luckily, the lack of sunlight prevented Johnny from 
seeing the meager defeat writing across Kelly's features.
"I'm gonna go shower. Remember, I'll kill ya if you grab
that last chocolate donut from the green plate."

"No ya won't,.. because you're a paramedic.."

"OK, I'll kill ya first, ..THEN... I'll bring ya back....
Slowly..."

Chet wasn't too reassured by that subtle change of detail.

He decided to keep on a low profile to learn what he needed
to learn about the new day's mystery playing out where he
couldn't reach it.

Kelly slunk back inside into a chair next to Henry and 
tickled their rotund mascot awake.

------------------------------------------------------------------------

Hank was completely shaven and he had a stack of papers
in front of him, twenty minutes later. "Listen up folks. What
you've all been waiting for.. Details on this year's Fireman's
Picnic Event.."

"Say, Cap." Marco inflected. "Isn't that this weekend?"

"It is.."

"Where's it gonna be this year?" Roy asked, wiping crumbs
off his shirt.

"At Bailey's Park in Anaheim."

"That's the new amusement park off the 405, isn't it?"
Stoker asked.

"Yep. And the Fireman's Board has already gotten a hold of two dozen
tickets for us and our families as well as enough for our YMCA 
sponsors, too. Food's already planned, and so's one minor detail. 
Gage is kindly providing us with a pony from home."

Chet looked up eagerly from the newspaper he was pretending
to read. ::Pony? So that's what all that straw is for..::

"Not a pony, Cap, uh,, sir.  A Falabella." Johnny corrected
scholarly and full of meek respect.

Lopez reached over and patted Johnny on the back as
he sat down. " Yeah, Good going. I couldn't remember that term
to tell the rest of the guys. Gracias, Gage. Luis is going 
to simply love you. He says it's his final Make A Wish 
request to ride a horse."

Kelly's forehead furrowed more deeply as he listened in.
::Gage is still not dressed in his uniform. The Picnic isn't 
until this weekend... so why isn't he scheduled a shift today?.::

Right then, Johnny spoke around his long ago targetted donut,
chewing loudly. "I'm gonna go out to the ranch and pick up Cochise
right after breakfast. I'm sure Henry won't mind him taking over
his pad for a few days."

Chet just about choked on his toast, eliciting a few curious
glances of inquiry from Cap and Stoker. :: How the h*ll can 
a horse fit in a medium sized doghouse?:: "I'm fine. I'm fine..
Henry just bumped me, stretching. I coughed it all out. " and he 
covered his surprise and puzzlement with a stocks section 
again before anyone else noticed him in closer scrutiny.

"Don't forget his grain, Gage. I've already cleared it with 
the chief and the city to keep your Falabella on property 
for the two days we'll have him until then." Hank reminded 
Johnny. "Provided all shifts keep up with all his uh,... bodily 
functions."

"No problem, Cap. Cochise's a stallion but he's really a 
pussycat, in all ways that matter, including that one. And
he does know how to use a litter box." he said mysteriously.

Chet's frowning expression only deepened behind the 
sports page.

"Say, Cap. On second thought, I can have my foreman
deliver Cochise for me. It's not too late to send Dwyer
back to his station. They've extra crew with that
rookie paramedic training this month."

Hank looked up from where he was scrubbing Henry's
ears affectionately. "You sure? You usually detest overtime."

"Not this week. I've a spring hayfield planting to pay for."
Johnny groaned.

"Ok, go get changed, I'll log it into the books later this afternoon."

Dwyer came in from the showers a few minutes later
and he saw Johnny with his uniform shirt on, unbuttoned
and shoes not yet tied. "Hey. Hey..." he celebrated.
"Cap, does this mean I get to go to my son's little league
practice after all?"

"Sure does. Do you mind?"

"Nope. I don't. Any extra time with Andy's a treat. He's
growing up so fast, you know?"

Cap nodded. "Have fun Dwyer, thanks." 

Right then, the tones went off.. Long ones.

Dwyer said, "I'll do the dishes..." And he jumped
to his feet. "I'll feed Henry, too, before I leave
while I'm at it."

"Good man.." Cap said, trucking out of the door
after his men. 

##Station 51, Station 36, Brush Truck 114, Engine
110. Fuel truck overturned on the overpass. 1/2 mile 
south of Turner's Peak. Mile marker 226. 1/2 mile south
of Turner's Peak. Mile marker 226. Timeout, 07:14.##

Fifteen minutes later, they all could see just what
they were heading into.. 

--------------------------------------------

Photo : Johnny and Roy in street clothes.

Photo: Chet looking bugged.

Photo: A highway fire with rescue vehicles en route.

********************************************************
From :  patti keiper <pattik1@hotmail.com> 
Sent :  Friday, April 16, 2004 1:11 AM 
Subject :  Quick Silver.. 
  
Captain Stanley saw that he was the first of
high-ish rank on scene. He quickly sized up the
accident while Mike Stoker took the engine in
a wide C around the fire and the dangerous spreading
ignited fuel streams spidering from the crash. He 
could just see the truck, a heavy barrelled tanker, on
its flank, jammed against the mountain. It must have
just passed underneath on the road, before it lost
control. No other cars were evident.

Hank thumbed the radio mic, "L.A., Station 51.
We're at mile marker 226 at the foothill exit
of an interstate bridge by Turner's Pass. We have a
lone 7,000 gallon fuel tanker on its side with a fully
involved, working fire. We'll need two additional 
pumper units with brush capability in a second 
alarm assignment. Tanker cargo is spilling burning 
unleaded gasoline into the river canyon. I'm reconfirming 
that air fire support is positively required. Curtail your
ladder response, we're in the open against a
mountain side."

##10-4, 51. Notifying second alarm with air 
support. Brush stations 19 and 26, are responding.
Helicopters Nine and Twelve are now in route. Air ETA,
15 minutes. All second in ground, in 10. Engine 51, your 
incident time is 0 plus two. Time : 07:36. ##

"Noted.." and Stanley tossed his microphone down
onto the engine's seat as Mike found a safe staging
area 800 feet away from the flaming maelstrom that
was once a metallic silver fuel truck. He plowed out
of his seat and ordered everyone into SCBA tanks
and gear. "Nobody goes in there without foam first.
Gang? Be prepared to abandon at any peep of a code 
red tone over your HTs, we don't know if the main 
payload's gone up yet or not."

"Cap? Any sign of the driver?" Roy asked donning his
faceplate and connecting his inhalation tube to the connector
over his mouth. He flipped up his collar when he felt
the intense heat of the fire blazing, even from their safe
distance.

"No.. Don't think he made it out. There's a spot in the cab
burning yellower than the rest of it.." Hank replied.

"Oh, I smell it now. Think you're right, Cap.." Johnny said
grimly. "Looks like zone protection duty for us, Roy.  Then 
rehab backup later after the others get here." he predicted.
"I'll delegate rehabilitation setup to 36's. They've been on 
duty longer than we have. We're less tired."

"That's the plan." Hank nodded, then he lifted his head when 
he caught sight of Brush Truck 114 and Engine 110 closely 
followed by Station 36, all of them roaring towards them.  

They were barely visible in the thick rolling, black smoke.  

Cap cast his eyes around long enough to spot a thin white and 
red striped pole sticking out of the chaparral off the roadway. 
"Only one hydrant?" 

Stoker affirmed. "So far. It'll take a few minutes to locate
the rest. Looks like the Highway Department's behind on
brush control again this year."
 
Cap sighed. "Kelly, get and install an eductor. Engine 36 will
be your booster tank water."

Chet nodded. "I'll get out the bins."

"Until 110 lays foam and is set for us, Stoker, a single line lay. 
Lopez, pull Stoker's inch and 3/4's WITH a Gate Valve.. Don't 
know where the other hydrants are in all this brush and no way in
h*ll do we want to tie up 110 one iota."

"Right, Cap.." Marco said, hopping into action, with a hydrant 
wrench clanging against his air bottle.

"We're not attacking this?" Johnny asked Hank.

"We were first in. I'm Incident Commander until one of
the chiefs gets here. Somebody has to direct everybody
who's incoming " Stanley said ruefully. "In the meantime, you 
and Roy, go on a Primary Survey. Case the area on a buddy
line. Get no farther than fifty feet from any working hose at
all times.  We gotta find all the hotspots ..."
Johnny started eagerly away but felt Cap's grip on his
arm that halted him solidly. ".....and keep your ever 
loving skins intact, Kapeesh? That goes double for you, 
Gage. I'm still remembering last month's medical leave
figures."

"I hear ya.. I hear ya.." Johnny grinned lopsidedly 
through his air mask. "I got Pally here to drag me out
if I do something stupid." he gestured. "Besides, this
isn't a building with a saggy roof. It's on concrete. 
What kind of trouble can we get into on that?"

Roy just rolled his eyes. "Grabbing irons.. A lot
of the wreck looks like it's off the road."

Cap gave both his paramedics a gloved thumbs up, but 
then turned back to reporting details to the fire watch
at L.A. Headquarters. "L.A., Engine 51. Send in a
Code K. At least one Code F's at our location in
the truck." 

##10-4, Engine 51. Investigations has been notified.##

"10-4, Standing by."

"Stoker get a wyed line to 110 through Chet. They're
ready."

On cue, 110's engineer and pumper man grabbed
Stoker's supply line and laid it into a triple wide,
fuel spill specific foam unit.  Slowly, the machine hummed
to life, flooding the road with its cooling repellent which
washed over the boiling flames.

"Watch it! Watch it!" shouted 110's captain. 
A tongue of ignited flowing fuel was coursing along the curb
edge of the roadway on the outside turn, narrowly catching
the boots of the advancing foam team.

The men hastily danced out of the way and smothered
the phalange with foam liberally.

Cap waved in Marco and Chet on an attack line off 36's 
engine to start washing the fuel byproduct away a few steps 
behind the foam crew.  Kelly groaned. "Geez, that was
close. And we're 900 feet away from the truck. Just how
much fuel's outside of the tank? I'm surprised that creeper
got out this far."

Cap overheard Kelly's complaining shout to Lopez.
"Most of it, hopefully. " he grinned through his faceplate.  
"Roy and Johnny are in there, checking it out."

Chet and Lopez turned their eyes to the column of midnight
black soot looming eerily into the daylit sky.
------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Roy got as near to the truck as he dared. ::Not much
of the cab left.::  and he jogged along one side of
the tanker while Gage checked the other for leakage
from the mother valve in the undercarriage of
the fuel tank. It was intact. ::Great. A slow leak.::

He lifted his HT to his mouth. "Johnny? How does
your side look? I've got a trickling main valve, but
that's all.."

Gage raised an arm over his head as a flame flare
shot out from the passenger side of the cab as
a gust of wind swept through it while it burned.
##I can't tell. I can't see anything. All I know is that
there's more fuel here than what's accounted for.##

"Let's get back together on the tail end. I'm getting
a little nervous." DeSoto admitted into his talkie.

##You and me both.##

But their plan never happened. The mountain got
in the way. A raw face of rock and blistering fire 
rose up out of the smoke before both firefighters.

##Roy?##

"Yeah.."  

##You seeing rock?##

"Yep. What I can see of it through all the smoke."

##Then why is it so windy over here?##

Right then, the column of smoke twisted away
revealing a yawning mouth of blackness in the shape
of a square, 20 feet high and the width of the road.
In the dimness, Gage could just make out a hotspot.
And it was heating the unmistakable shape of a
chassis.  ##Roy hoof it back and follow my route! There's a 
TUNNEL my side and at least one burning car located 
about  two hundred feet inside of it. ##

Roy switched over to the command frequency.
"Squad 51, to Engine 51."

##Battalion 14 for Engine 51.##

::Ah, change of personnel. Cap will be relieved
to be able to fight this fire instead of directing it.::
"Chief.. we've found more vehicular involvement.
Gage and I have just located a tunnel that appears to
go through the mountain.  Wasn't clear before
because the truck and fire were blocking sight of it."

##Survivors?##

"Still too soon to tell."

Hank Stanley joined in on a side band. 
##Get to safe ground and wait for hose
support. Air currents in tunnels are too tricky 
to mess with. Fire could backdraft a lot farther 
than you'd expect if a gas tank or something
else hidden, goes up.##

##Keep me informed, Squad 51. Go
in with the recovery team once your safety is
secured.##

"10-4, Battalion. " Roy acknowledged.

Soon, DeSoto had made it over to where
he could see Gage climbing up over
the mouth of the rocky tunnel and onto a 
ledge just above it that was clear of fumes
and flame. He pulled off his mask after
feeling the coolness of safe air against
his neck. "What do you think? See anything?"
he asked his sweaty partner, who was equally
pleased to pull off his SCBA.

"At least one car... " he said rubbing grit from
his mouth and cheeks." Roy, it's a raging inferno
only partway down, that completely fills the tunnel.
I doubt if anyone is alive in there. There can't be
air to breathe."

"Must be something if that fire is burning."

Gage squatted down, watching a hasty hose
and foam team advance towards them from the staging 
area and the engines that were preconnected to each
other from Stoker's hillside hydrant. On a thought,
he raised the antennae on his handytalkie and hailed
out. "Squad 51 to Battalion 14."

##Battalion 14... Go ahead.##

"Chief.. Do you know how long this particular tunnel
is? We're seeing active fire and are wondering about
the chance of casualties being on the other side of it."

##Still in the process of I.D.ing the exact specs. The sign
bolted to the rock beneath you has been charred beyond
recognition.##

Surprised, Johnny looked down the shallow cliff over
his feet. A wall of heat punished him for looking and
he coughed, hastily sucking in a restoring breath from
his mask as he fell onto his butt to get away from it.

Roy sighed, "You ok? That wasn't very smart, Junior.
Heat rises.."

"I know that. I know that.." Johnny coughed defensively.
"I was just.... I don't know..checking it out.. Like what we
were ordered to do.." he said, wiping streaming tears from
his face.

"Didn't include checking out the sign ..."

Johnny didn't dignify his partner with a reply but instead
thumbed his radio. "10-4, Battalion 14. Standing by for
details. So far, we've got clean smoke. Ok, for teams
to proceed."

Roy chuckled, parking his butt on a butte right next
to Gage. "Gage, the mine hole canary. Say, you could
ask Cap for more hazard pay. I think you've just invented
a new job duty.."

"Oh would you just shut up." Johnny growled.

Slowly his coughs subsided as the air from
his mask got rid of the fumes he had inhaled.

Then the mountain started rumbling..

"Uh oh.. I don't think I like the sound of that.."
Johnny peeped.

---------------------------------------------------------------------

Photo: Burning fuel coursing down a rural road.

Photo: Cap and Johnny in brush on talkies.

Photo: Engines working in heavy smoke.

Photo: Roy and Johnny inside fire in SCBA.

Photo:  A fire deep inside a tunnel and an involved truck.

Photo:  Burning yellow orange tongue of fire.

******************************************************************
From :  Roxy Dee <laterrapincabesa@hotmail.com> 
Sent :  Tuesday, May 18, 2004 2:25 AM 
Subject :  Heart of the Beast 

Their walkie talkies sprang to life in a treble tone
all call of an electronic heads up, piercing and sharp. 
Static spat only half of Captain Stanley's urgent shout
over the din of the flames and the hillside's new, sudden
deep belching.  ## Rockslide! Abandon location! 
Gage?!  DeSoto?! ##

Roy didn't mince words. "Move! Johnny, move!"

"Where? The d*mned truck fire's flaring over the
ledge outta here." Gage angrily said. Fear tinged
more of his face than his voice.  Johnny slipped
as the two firefighters whirled around for an escape
route. He hastily righted his balance using Roy's bigger
frame by grabbing a quick hold of his shoulders.

"Jump straight out!" Roy yelled, ducking as the first
wildly bouncing boulders sliced through the brush
surrounding them. A pine tree near them severed as
a rock the size of a car shredded it into an explosion
of dirt , twisted limbs and flying wood splinters. 

"The tunnel? You must be crazy." Johnny said.
But his feet and hands flew in that direction over
the trembling ground as his slender body skidded
over mesquite and outcroppings.

"You'd rather be flattened than burned to death?
Johnny, I'm surprised at you.." Roy huffed.

Before Gage could think of another rejoinder,
the ground before them ran out. Johnny froze,
but Roy gave him a firm push fowards into
the small of his back.

With twin shouts, both men fell over the lip
of rock over the tunnel's keystone and
down past the licking flames near its roof.

They fell heavily onto their air bottles in a graceless
back flop onto the highway eight feet below. Missiles 
of stone smacked onto the pavement in a thick rain, 
noisily annihilating themselves against the burning 
road around the fallen firemen. 

Roy lifted his HT even as Johnny dragged them both
through the dust into the very dubious shelter beyond. 

His free hand grabbed their helmets which had been 
jolted from their heads when they fell.
"Cap! We're going in!"

Then the rockslide's quicksilver bulk cut off the outside
and daylight as its bite sealed DeSoto and Gage inside
the violently burning tunnel. 

Gage and Roy dropped to their bellies as the new
interior fire reached out to grab them. 

Johnny's stunned gasps whistled under his mask 
as he fought to regain breath and bearing. "Roy?
You ok?"

"Yeah.." came a reply, just as shaky and strained.

"Did you crack anything? Your regulator? The main
valve? Your mask's steaming up already." Gage
said as both men clung glove to glove as they
maintained contact in the murky superheated black.

"My air's still good. Yours?"

"It's fine. It's ok.." Gage panted. 

Both men stayed still until their eyes got used to the 
saturine fireglow coming from the flaming ceiling.

Moments later, a furnace blast of heat boiled against
them from the heart of the multi-automobile fire they 
could both see a hundred twenty meters away. Outside 
atmosphere was no longer the cooling protection it
had been before the mountain caved in. 

"Ahh!" They both snatched their hands under their armpits
as they crawled using knees and elbows, to a tunnel wall. 

"We gotta find an access door before we cook." Gage
said.

"There's one every hundred feet if I remember correctly."

Gage groaned, "Yeah, but which hundred foot part are 
we in? Before or after one? We're at a mouth end." 
Bruises made the paramedic lag behind more
and more.

Roy grabbed his partner's overcoat collar and pulled
him along with him as he scraped his shoulder along
the rocky wall as a directional guide. "Don't slow 
down. We're nearly out of time. It's gotta be near
180 F in here already." 

"Coming mother.." Gage squeaked, exhausted.

Roy risked frying his gloved fingers as he opened 
them to feel for the recess of the maintenance door's
frame from the lumpy wall.  Sizzling metal, bit into
the material of his glove when he found it. "Aghh, here!"

And he pulled out his jacket halligan to break the
emergency key from its glass housing box by
reaching only an arm up into the boiling heat above
them. 

Gage winced as glass shattered musically onto
their helmets and a brighter bounce in front
of him showed him where the key was. "I got it."

Roy gave out an involuntary yelp and snatched his
air burned arm back down to the much cooler ground 
level.

"My turn." Gage said.

"The lock may already be warped." DeSoto panted.

"I'll get us in.." Johnny said fiercely, psyching himself
up for the punishing pain of heat up near the door's
handle. Blindly, he groped. When one arm burned,
he traded arms, stubbornly alternating them as he tried
to insert the tiny key into the lock with his thick gloves.

Then, a subtle click came over the rock echoey fire.

Gage took a breath and got up onto his knees long
enough to snatch the metal door open. ::Don't melt, 
don't melt.:: he willed to his faceplate's rubber fittings.
Johnny hit his chin on the floor when he quickly dropped 
back down into their safe air afterwards. "Go. You
first. Your mask may be damaged."

Roy went. 

Gage kicked the door shut behind them and sealed
them off into total darkness. The cooler air inside
felt like a balm against their seared jackets and pants
legs. "Hah! Not today. " he sneered at the blocked
fire. "Today's not a good day to die.."

Roy smiled as he rested face masked down against 
the floor. He could feel sweat turning blessedly cold 
against his neck. "Is that more of the trademark
Gage Indian mysticism?"

"Huh? No. I'm not Cherokee. That was 100%
genuine Anglo Saxon literal English. I just don't
want to die right now. Do you?" Johnny smiled
quirkily.

"Not if I can help it. Come on, let's find a light switch."

"Think the power's still on?"

"Yeah. That fire out there hasn't been burning long
enough for Rural Station Utilities to deal with it."

"No problem. I'll just use my innate Seminole tracking
skills to find us a light source." Johnny's voice laughed.

Roy was big enough not to laugh when he heard the
unmistakable sound of a skull bouncing off a 
stair railing. 

"Owww!" Gage said as he clicked the lights on.

"What? Don't those innate skills of yours extend a bit
of agility into the equation?"

Johnny just shot him a dirty look.

"Don't worry. I won't hold it against you. Never have
in the past. I just keep bailing your butt whenever you
can't get it out of somewhere." Roy replied cheekily.

It took a full minute before their eyes got used
to the bright industrial flourescent purple light strips
hanging over their heads.

Gage didn't deign to reply as both men rose to their 
trembling feet, using the short stairwell's banister for 
support. Above their heads, was a wide bright silver
ventilation shaft curving away into the ceiling.

Black smoke was slowly oozing out of the grilling.

"Well, " Gage sighed. "You bought us some time at
least. Thanks for shoving me over a cliff, Roy."

"Anytime." DeSoto suddenly remembered the HT 
still strapped around his wrist. He reached up
to remove his helmet and mask so he could speak
into it.

Johnny's grip suddenly stopped him. "No, Roy.
At our feet. Don't you see that?"

Roy looked down.  A hazy murk was pooling around
their ankles. "Smoke?"

"No man. It's yellowish green. Are you color blind or
something? That's chlorine gas unless I missed my 
guess."

Roy was silent behind his mask.

"You are? Oh, geesh. How did you ever get that
by the fire department qualifiers?"

"It's not a requirement of the job." Roy shrugged.  
"Let's just find out where that gas is coming from.
If there are people still alive in here, this's gonna
be real bad for them."

Right then, the hissing of Roy's air bottle, ran out.

"You were saying.." Gage said with a frown.
"Come on, before you start choking." And he
took a deep breath off his own mask before peeling
it off to offer it to Roy. "We gotta find those tanks in 
order to know which direction to go in to get away from 
them. Maybe we can shut off whatever leak's there."

"If we can. The explosion which destroyed those
cars out there in the tunnel may have damaged the
cooling lines beyond repair."

"Ever the raging optimist. Come on. My guess is
that we've got six minutes of my tank air left 
before that runs out."

Roy stopped in his tracks. "Wait a minute. This is
a rural mountain highway tunnel, isn't it?"

"Yeahhh." he said sarcastically flippant.  "We've got lots of
pine trees, a biggish lump that looks suspiciously like a 
mountain. Gee, Roy. What--"

"Hear me out. We're far from any fire station." Roy said
brightly in between their mask sharing. "There's gotta be
spare air in here somewhere. It's all in the haz mat manuals."

"It is?"

"Junior, " Roy said craftily smart. "How did you ever
get past the fire department qualifiers without
knowing that?"

"Oh shush. I just hit my head buddy boy. I'm allowed to 
forget a few things here."

"Uhh.. That one was kinda important.."

"That's what YOU'RE there for. You're my PARTNER.
Firemen partners remember things for each other."

"Not THAT often." Roy mumbled under his breath.
"I seem to recall that I do it more for you than you do
for-"

Boomm... came a sound only a short distance away
down the access tunnel. The lights flickered.

Both firemen ducked against opposite walls and covered
their helmets with their arms.

"Where was that?" Gage asked. "Our tunnel or was
that the fuel truck outside?"

"Don't know. It's too hard to tell in here." Roy said,
peering at the ceiling to make sure it didn't come down
on top of them.

"We gotta know. If it's one, the blast may have reopened
the way out, if it's the other, any folks left in here are dead
and we've no further reason to go in deeper to check for
survivors. That was too big to live through." 

"Only one way to find out. But we've got our priorities here."
DeSoto said practically. "If we find those civilian air bottles.
We can investigate that. If we don't, it's in our best interests to
fix or block off that chlorine gas. Six minutes, remember?"

"How can I forget that, Roy?"

"Just checking. Head knock assessment."

"Save it for later." Johnny grumbled. "I feel a lump
but it's nothing big. Let's move."

Linking arms, the two paramedic firefighters moved 
deeper into the well lit tunnel after their goal.

As they went, the greenish heavy gas rose a little 
higher up their ash dusted legs. 

A few minutes later, they broke into a cabinet 
full of ventilation apparatus using brute force
and a fire axe. 

"What's the yield on these?" Roy asked of
their new white and blue air bottles slung over
their arms. Their yellow ones, they had abandoned
behind them.

"Says..  twenty five minutes."

"How many do we have?"

"Ten." Johnny counted carefully. 

"Sweet. After we deal with the chlorine, let's
stock pile them along our route. We may find
surv--" 

"Roy! Look.." Gage pointed.

A sooty maintenance man was slumped upright
against the wall to their left. Surrounding him was
a cluster of chlorine coolant tanks. He didn't look
conscious.

Gage grabbed a spare air bottle and both ran forward.

Johnny peeled off a glove and felt for a carotid.
"He's alive."  His hand dropped lower. "Breathing."

"Let's get him out of here." Roy said.

"You do that. I'll stay here to see if I can find that
gas leak. We've gotta be close." Gage replied.

"I'll meet you by the place we found the air bottles.
They may have oxygen in a first aid bag behind the
controller's desk."

"Try your HT. Maybe that's not so far inside
the mountain there. Maybe there's a wall phone."

"I'll check it out. Come on, get him up onto me."
Roy ordered. He had fitted the air mask of their
third tank over their victim's face.

Gage helped DeSoto lift the limp man over
a shoulder and wedged him in between Roy's
back and the new air bottle. He handed Roy
the man's air supply. "Be careful. I don't
like this separating idea one bit. Cap's not
gonna like it."

"No other way. He comes first.." DeSoto said,
throwing his helmeted head upwards.

They parted ways.

Gage was swallowed in silence as Roy retreated
back the way they had come.

"Ok.. first tank. What do we have here?" he said,
talking to himself as he bent down to check the
pressure guage of the chlorine receptacle.
"Full. D*mn. Onto the next.."

There were five tanks in the tiny anteroom. None were 
leaking. "Oh, boy. That leaves a coolant pipe somewhere.
Not gonna be easy finding that." 

Johnny found a flashlight in the utility cabinet and
began using it when the next room he wanted to enter,
didn't light up when he flipped the light switch. "Bingo.."
he celebrated. "Electrical damage. Bet that pipe's
in here."

Gage entered the room.

--------------------------------------------------------------
Roy placed his heavy burden onto the desk itself.
"Let's keep you away from floor level." He could
see murk drifting around his shoes that he could
only assume to be more chlorine gas.

He positioned the man onto his back and used
a stack of files underneath his shoulders piled 
high enough so the unconscious man's head 
flopped back and his airway stayed open.

His attempts to awaken the man failed.

He pulled his walkie talkie out of his jacket pocket.
"Squad 51 to Engine 51. Come in."

Static splashed instead of clear radio air after
the talk button's bleep.

"Squad 51 to Engine 51. We're ok in the south
side maintenance tunnel. We have one casualty.
Over.."

No voices came through.

"Too deep." Roy sighed.

Right then, the lights went off.

--------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Photo : Chained chlorine tanks.

Photo: Animated gif showing a gas tank leak.

Photo: Roy near a sitting unconscious man against a wall.

Photo: Johnny peering around with a flashlight in daylight.

Photo: A rockslide over a tunnel's mouth.

*************************************************************
From:  "patti keiper" <pattik1@hotmail.com> 
Date:  Thu May 20, 2004  12:32 am
Subject:  Improvisation

Gage's retinas burned from lack of stimulus.
He couldn't see four feet in front of his toes.
    
"This isn't good.. " mumbled Johnny. "I hope
Roy managed to get a hold of a flashlight.." he
said, clutching tightly to his own.

He cast his light beam downwards, looking
for the telltale chartreuse fog of chlorine hugging
the floor. He found nothing off color. Moving to a 
fusebox, Johnny checked the biggest master circuit 
breaker that he could see. But it wasn't tripped. 
"Now why did the lights go off?"

His eyes glanced down to his wide black strapped 
watch. "It's been....twenty three minutes since we
arrived on the fire scene. Could it be the Rural Station 
Utility Company ending a risk for our growing disaster 
call?" In hindsight, the move got Gage angry and
he began complaining out loud as he walked.
"Don't they know that there could be motorists still 
inside the uneffected part of this tunnel? We won't 
be able to see them well for rescue operations in here, 
except by firelight and I'm d*mned sure that there isn't 
much of anything else that can burn beyond the gasoline 
still inside those cars on the highway." he reasoned.

"You're forgetting one thing.." said a voice behind
Gage that was thick with gruffness and fatigue.
"Chlorine's combustible with metals if it's got
water. And heat. Especially with the copper piping 
running through the ceiling of this maintenance tunnel."

Johnny nearly levitated and whirled around, aiming
his light towards the open door of the store room.
"Sir.. are you ok?" he finally said when he saw
that the man was wearing the familiar gray coverall
of the highway department.

"I was just about to ask you the same thing, mister."
replied the scba masked worker who seemed
near the age sixty to Gage. "You're on the wrong track,
sonny. A mountain tunnel is always graded to the south. 
Any of that leakage you're looking for will flow in that 
direction instead of pooling where you can see it."

"Thanks.." Johnny said appreciatively. "Might I ask
what you're still doing in here?  My guess is that during 
any declared emergency, all console operators 
should be the first ones to bail out of this tunnel 
for safety reasons at the first sign of trouble."

"Nothing was declared. There wasn't enough time. 
Five of us died when the cars went up. I guess momentum
kept the truck that started it all skidding long enough to
make it to the tunnel's mouth and past it to the outside."

Gage stepped nearer so that they could share
illumination as he motioned for the man to 
follow him back to the controller's booth where
Roy had taken refuge with the unconscious
worker. "Are you hurt?"

"Not physically.." he snorted, wearily rubbing
the back of his neck. "Say, listen. Did you
come across another guy dressed like me?
He's about 5 foot 2. Caucasian, with curly brown
hair styled like Mark Spitz?"

"We found him unconscious. What's his name?"

"Benny. He's one of the new kids. He was the first 
one I told to get the h*ll outta here on account of his
age!" shouted the man angrily. "I guess he just 
doesn't ever listen too well."

Johnny nodded in understanding. 
"Looks like the chlorine got to him before he
could make it out. My partner's with him now. 
That's where we're going." Johnny said matter of 
factly. "Hi, I'm Fireman John Gage and I'm with the
Los Angeles County Fire Department."

"Joe Dawson." And the man held out his
gloved hand to Johnny's. 
 
Gage grasped the worker's hand in friendship
as well as in a test assessing the man's health and 
strength. Then he pointed back down the hallway he had 
used in coming as they walked. "We're almost there.." 
Johnny said. "I know they're this way past these 
sealed chlorine tanks."

-----------------------------------------------------------

The lack of illumination that came was so abrupt 
that Roy almost felt himself lose his sense of balance.

Roy Desoto bent low immediately and
took off his gloves. One hand went to
the beat in his patient's neck, and the 
other slipped under his shirt to pause on the 
rapid rise and fall of respirations he still felt
and heard coming from the sooty man. 

It was inky. Completely. And Roy felt 
the darkness press in claustrophobically 
against his face through the scba mask
he wore.

He strained to hear anything useful
coming from down the corridor. Dimly,
Desoto heard a peculiar hissing. ::Equalizing
pressure?:: he wondered.. ::It's from somewhere 
above my head.::  Mentally, he ran through all
the possible reasons for pipes in the tunnel.
::Steam pipes? Coolant conduits? Are
the ventilation air shafts reacting to the fire 
out there? Are the waste management pipes 
from the wayside rest up the mountain draining 
out because of the rockslide we encountered 
earlier?::

Nothing seemed definite nor did anything else leap 
out suddenly as the most likely answer. 

A new sound drew away Roy's attention 
from waist level. A quiet gurgling from Benny 
faded into a loud silence.  

"Mister?!" Roy shouted, not really expecting an 
answer in the pitch blackness. His left hand still resting 
on the man's stomach, fell in height and didn't climb 
upwards again.

Roy threw away caution and pulled off his mask
once his lungs were full. Immediately, his eyes
began to burn and water perfusely. ::So, chlorine's
in here after all.:: he decided and Desoto promptly 
forgot about the gas. Screwing his eyes protectively 
shut, Roy freed the man from his breathing apparatus
and listened by his nose and mouth even as he
reconfirmed no movement in the man's chest
under his palms. ::Figured as much.::

Jamming his own mask under an arm, Roy
gave the man a couple of breaths mouth to
mouth before rechecking the fluttering pulse
in his throat. Then gasping, Roy took ample good
air from his own gear for himself before he did it 
again. And again. 

Minutes dragged by and Roy relived some
self chastisement; kicking himself mentally for 
not having any airways or any other useful stuff
in his turnout's pockets.  On a sudden thought,
he drew out his pen light from his shirt and he
checked for signs of vomit as an explanation
for the bubbling he was hearing on all his
inhalations. He found nothing abnormal.
::Pulmonary edema? Let's hope it's just
chemically induced.::  Under his anchor hand, 
the pulse in his victim's neck was growing 
irregular. : That arrythmia must be from the chlorine. 
I can't block it all off.::

Another long stretch of seconds passed
as Roy considered his options, which were
slim to none.

Roy's tank ran out and he quickly switched 
to the man's still lying abandoned in a pile at 
his feet. ::Now what? I've no epinephrine or
atropine..::

A murky spear of wavering light cut through
the haze inside Roy's midnight colored 
room. "Johnny?! Hurry up. He's respiratory 
arrested!"

"On the way!" And Johnny's sharp reply was
punctuated with echoing footsteps that
were music to Roy's ears. Gage's running 
sounded like a whole calvary's.

Roy finally glanced up in between his
breaths as a second shadow slid in
next to Johnny's. The lanky paramedic
had filed in next to Roy. DeSoto was 
immediately punished, as a new wave of 
lances knifed into both of his eyes. "Aghh!" 
he cried out. "D*mned chlorine gas!"

"Want me to take over?" Gage asked evenly.

"Just find that first aid pack we theorized
about earlier.." Roy mumbled as he
got a better grip on his patient's
face and nose. Desoto retreated back into
the shelter of his air mask, coughing.
But immediately, he shared his tidal
store in yet another breath for the very
pale young man stretched out beneath 
him.

"Joe?" Gage asked as he pivoted in the
silver haired man's direction.  He didn't like the color 
change occuring in the older maintenance man's 
cheeks. "Did you hear that?"

"Yeah.. yeah.. uh, one of the ranger boys,....
you know the sierra wilderness types from
110's? ..they left a pretty good one behind for
us for just this kind of medical emergency 
happening in the tunnel.." 

"Where is it? Are you all right? You look
like you're gonna faint." Johnny said, keeping
one glove on Roy's back, the other on Joe's
elbow.

"I-I'm fine. I just know Benny's mother. That's
all. If he dies, I'm the only one who's a friend
enough to break the news. Know what I mean?"
Joe shuddered, absently bumping his fingers
against his faceplate, trying to rub his forehead.

"The kit, Joe.." John ordered. "We need it."

"Oh, uh huh. right. It's right there, John. Under
the supe's desk in the corner. But don't we gotta
get Benny to a doctor? You two are just firemen.
And with him not breathin and all, it's gettin real
scary..real fast!" he said, his voice rising higher
in panic. "Let's just carry him outta here. Come
on, I'll do it. I'm bigger than the both of ya. So
just tell your buddy ta move out of the way.." Then 
Joe actually tried to lift Benny up into an arm carry
to remove him from under Roy's hands.

Gage snatched him away from the desk quickly.
"Joe! What the h*ll do you think you're doing?!
Benny's better off right where he is where we
can deal effectively with his hypoxia. Just go 
get the bag."

"But..." the balding man sputtered through
his mask.

"It's ok.." Johnny qualified. "We're paramedic
firefighters. We can treat him right here. Enough to 
stabilize him. Then we can think about figuring out a 
way to get us all out of here. Until Benny's condition 
falls one way or another, we're staying put!"

Clunk!  The big blue bag full of medical supplies
landed in Gage's lap.  Johnny's pen light found
his teeth as he dug through it to the bottom using
its meager beam. "This is heavy Roy, I'll just bet that 
it has--" a clanging sound greeting his ears as his
questing fingers found a fair sized oxygen cylinder
and a valve wrench tethered on a chain. "..Yep.
O2."  He snatched it out and set up its demand
valve, replete with a hard black rubber face mask. 
"Here. I got an oral out, too." And Gage gave Roy 
the two pieces of equipment. "Joe, go get my 
partner a new air tank. That one's getting too low."

Roy gratefully let Joe slide the new scba mask
back over his head and face, coughing thickly
as the clean air slowly washed away the strongest
chlorine fumes he had been suffering eyewise.
He shook his head to shake the face plate into
place vigorously around his temples. 

All the while, his hands never missed delivering a 
breath to Benny using the new positive pressure 
apparatus they had found.

"Roy?" Johnny asked, checking out the breathless
man's eyes with his light for their responses.

"I've still got a bounding carotid on him."

"Thanks for the update. But I was asking about
you. How're your eyes? And your chest?" Gage
said wrapping a bp cuff over Benny's near arm.

"Both'll pass with a push.." Roy said, his voice 
starting to grow hoarse and cracky. "I don't think 
I got a whole lotta chlorine."

"Once we get Benny going again, you're gonna
grab some of that 02." Johnny said firmly no 
nonsense.

"We'll see. So far, he's deserving all of it."
Roy rasped.

"Step it up then and turn him around, so you 
guys can share.." Gage quipped half serious.

Gage leaned into Joe and whispered to him
out of the corner of his mouth so Roy wouldn't
hear him. "Joe.. go stand by Roy and light up
his face a little. I wanna see his color."

Joe rose, smiling, but Johnny stopped him with
a tight grip. "Do it subtlely or I'll never hear the
end of it.." he hissed.

Joe nodded, his earlier panicky reactions 
finally easing down a little. He moved around
the desk to the other side. At Roy's curious
glance up at him, Joe remarked, "I wanna
see what yer doing.." And he casually aimed
the flashlight's rays down on Roy's hands
so that its icy white backwash lit up his features.

Johnny's eyes flickered up from the breath
sounds, to which he was listening, up to
Roy's features and back down again  
in a crafty scan. He feigned being interested
in searching for burns on Benny's bare chest
as he asked. "Since when did you start hiding
the fact that you've got a couple of broken ribs,
Roy?"

Desoto looked up in surprise, and the sudden
motion made him wince. "How'd you know?"

"Oh.." Johnny said matter of factly, continuing his
secondary survey down Benny's pelvis and legs,
"I kinda knew when I threw Benny here onto your
back to get him away from the chlorine containers. 
You were favoring his weight on your good side. I also  
noticed you were double timing your mouth to mouth 
to make up for your shortness of breath and now you got 
a bit of cyanosis starting up on both your lips that's not 
from any kind of chilling cause it's not cold in here. Far
from. " Johnny tilted his head in question.
"Which ones did ya crack clear through, Roy?"

Roy stopped concealing his hunched over posture.
"Floating ribs, left side, bottom three." he sighed
painfully.

"Did they get into your spleen?"

"Don't know yet. My shoulders hurt but I think it's
from wearing this scba gear for so long. Doesn't
feel like I've got any real kind of belly pain yet." Roy 
said.

Joe frowned. "Say, ah.. how'd uh.. how did he get
hurt so bad?"

Johnny and Roy both exchanged knowing looks.

Gage was the one who broke the news.
"Uh, we were forced to retreat inside from a fuel
fire at the tunnel entrance when a rock slide
took us by surprise.. Here, gimme that Roy,
I'll take over breathing for him. Take a break."

Joe paled even more and sat down on his rump
into a nearby chair. "You mean we're sealed
in here with that raging inferno out there threatening
to burn the cement wall in right through to us?"

Roy gingerly set aside the over coat he had peeled
off. His scba tank was nestled in between his
knees. He looked almost comical wearing
just the face gear in a blue paramedic's shirt that was 
torn and ripped in a dozen places from the fall he had 
taken. "That's putting it in a nutshell.." he grimaced, 
feeling out the painful locations of his own rib breaks.

Johnny was quick to optimism,, "Uh, that's if we can't find
another way outta here." Gage glared at Roy.. Then he
snapped rapidly into a sham of counseling charm. 
"Joe, there is another way out of here.." he prompted.
"Almost has to be. This is one h*lluva big mountain.
Right, Benny?!" he added shouting into the young man's ear.
An answering stomach belch from his artificial respiration
came out in reply.  "Good boy.." Johnny said, patting the 
unresponsive man's face. He had done so to break Mr. 
Dawson out of his bystander funk as much as to test
for any telltale responsiveness in Benny.

Joe's eyes stopped glassing over in emotional shock
and he actually stifled a smirk over the odd humored 
joke Johnny shared about his coworker. "Yeah, there's bunches 
of ways outta here. What does the D.O.T. look like? We're far 
from being a bunch of numb skulls. We built plenty of bolt 
holes into this monstrosity.." he said expansively waving his 
hands up at the tunnel's infrastructure arching all around them. 

"Which way to the nearest?" Roy buzzed hoarsely, barely
loud enough to be heard through his air mask.

"Down fifty meters south, right fork, three doors on
your right, then up the stairwell to the plateau overlooking
the valley. It's the same route we take every month. It
leads up to the radio tower." Joe rattled off.

Roy smiled. "We could sure use clean line of sight. Our
HTs aren't working down here." he said.

Joe's eyes got bigger and he sat up straighter in his
chair. "Well why didn't you tell me before that your
radio jobbies weren't functioning. We gotta phone
right here." And he opened up the drawer to the left
of Johnny's knee, displaying a red emergency colored
hand receiver phone that had been stuffed into it. "We use 
this to report any newly sparked forest fires while we're 
working the span. The boss says it connects with a fire 
chief or someone like that, down in the city."

Gage sighed.

And so did Benny.

Johnny's face popped wide open. "Benny?"
he said, lifting the demand valve away. "Can 
you hear me?" he asked. He slid his hands out
of the way just in time to see Benny spit out
the oral airway that was gagging him.

Roy saw that he didn't need to be tipped over 
for nausea. "Benny?"

The young man groaned at the sting of chlorine
fumes he started feeling in his eyes, nose and mouth 
while Johnny quickly strapped Benny's scba gear 
back on him with one change; he stuffed a balled 
nasal cannula line inside the young man's mask,
leaving it in a knot under the man's nose, set to a 
light flow, as a breathing booster. Johnny watched
as Benny lapsed into an adequately respiring but 
unconscious stupor similar to the state that he had 
been in when they had first found him. Johnny
reinserted another oral airway carefully to avoid
spasms.

Gage fitted the demand valve's working end
to a new feeder mask and handed it out instantly to 
Roy. "Start clearing your chest out, partner. Looks like 
we've quite a hike coming up real soon." Johnny 
grinned.

He picked up the landline phone to contact L.A. 
::I've waited a long time to relay our status 
in to Rampart and the firecrews still working on the
fuel truck. Cap's gonna smile bigger than the whole 
state of California when he hears from us.::
he smirked. 

He winked at Joe Dawson and was very happy to 
see the older man relaxed enough himself to wink 
back. 

Unknown to all of them, the hissing from above,
grew louder. 

------------------------------------------------------------------

Photo : A tunnel fire and a schematic of its ventilation system.

Photo: Roy and Johnny working on a victim.

Photo: A man being ventilated mouth to mouth through a pocket mask.

Photo: A burning highway bridge in daylight with brown smoke.

Photo: Two gray coverall-ed men wearing SCBA in a flaming stairway.

*********************************************************
From: "Cassidy Meyers" <killashandrarey@hotmail.com>
Subject: Deliverance..
Date:  Tue May 25, 2004  8:48 pm - 2048 (PDT) 


"How's Benny doing, John?" asked Joe Dawson.
"He- he-he.. still looks kinda sick ."

Johnny Gage rechecked the amount of oxygen
left in the ranger's tank by reading the valve by
penlight as he said. "Well.. he was awake 
enough to feel us fussing with his face and fight the 
airway for a bit. That's a good sign. It'll be 
up to Rampart Hospital to decide whether or not 
he'll come down with complications once we get him 
to our docs there by helicopter. I'll be on the line with 
one of them in just a minute or so." he nodded.  

Joe's dirty face beamed. "Outta sight."

Roy coughed, splinting his side with an elbow to
ease the pain as his ribs protested.
He couldn't quite hide the new agony.

Gage looked up. "That reminds me. " he said,
shouting through his SCBA gear. He held up an
incriminating finger at DeSoto. "You're victim number 
two, pally. Get a vitals set on yourself..." he ordered,
peering at Roy's face in analysis. "Or... I can do it if 
you think you're too laid up to manage."

"I'll manage. Just talk.." Roy said hoarsely. "The
O2's working." he said, taking in another shot of
oxygen from the positive pressure valve. "My 
head's clearing now and there's no more blue here." 
he said waving a few fingernails under the torchlight
in his lap. "My ribs aren't flailed."

Gage squinted, appraising Roy for a long moment 
and DeSoto was smart enough not to look away.

Johnny saw that the vitality in his partner's eyes 
remained steady and unwavering. "Ok. The job's
yours."

The native american  paramedic turned his pointing arm towards 
Dawson. "How about you? Any knocks, bumps I should 
know about that you didn't share earlier?" he asked. The
tone in his voice held a partially serious jest at Roy for 
doing the same sin.

Roy rolled his eyes, unamused, and didn't rise to the bait
as he began shifting in his chair to get comfortable
enough to take a BP reading on himself.

"Pick up the phone, Mr. Gage, and call us in. Your
casualty number ...is gonna be only two.." Joe said
defiantly, holding up that count before Johnny's face
and shaking it. "I'll be watching Benny for ya so
your partner can rest."

The rugged tunnel man sat down in the desk chair by 
Benny's head to check the young man's mask's seal around 
Gage's jury rigging and he began staring at the shallow 
rise and fall of Benny's chest to pointedly ignore Gage,
ending the discussion.

Gage was satisfied. He picked up the red landline.
"This is Squad 51 of the Los Angeles County
Fire Department. Emergency. I've updated fire
information with two people injured in this tunnel's
operations base." he shouted loud enough for
his voice to carry into the phone through his face
plate.

The voice on the other end rapidly acknowledged
Johnny's call sign and he was immediately patched
through to L.A. and onto Rampart Hospital once he
had relayed enough information to the fire dispatcher
to tell Cap and Battalion 14 of their status. Gage
heard the call frequency click into a familiar mode
as it rang the red wall phone near Dixie McCall's 
emergency desk. 

--------------------------------------------------------------------

The furry voiced RN looked up in surprise 
from a coffee mug when the rare critical use
line began ringing. She padded over and hefted
the phone's receiver. "Rampart Emergency."
She cocked her head as she listened closely
as she recognized Johnny's voice. " Johnny!
Are you four in a safe location?  Is there anything
you need me to tell the chief out there?... Ok. ..ok. 
Got it. Now, what do you have? I'm set here." she 
said snatching up a pencil and pad for note taking.

As she did so, she flagged down an orderly to
go fetch the nearest doctor to report to the call.

--------------------------------------------------------------

 
Johnny bent down to his note pad under penlight
and read his data.

"Dixie, it's chlorine gas on both victims one and two.
Victim One is an unconscious male who's approximately 
nineteen years of age. He was briefly respiratory arrested 
but now he's breathing on 6 L's of O2 via SCBA. No trauma. 
Vitals are : BP 88/64, pulse 120, respirations are 22 and his
lungs are wet on both sides. No signs of aspiration. 
Victim Two. It's Roy, and he's got possible fractures of all the 
lower left lateral floating ribs, sustained in a fall. He denies 
lung or abdominal involvement but he's showing a strong positive 
for crepitus.  Dix's he's been oriented times three throughout
and he's now on fifteen liters O2. He's dealing with some upper 
pulmonary tract swelling that also seems to be effecting 
his throat and larynx. I'd say his exposure was around two 
minutes despite having tanked air. He had to do some
resuscitation. Victim One's duration with the chlorine is 
unknown.  Roy's vitals are : 120/74, pulse 90 and respirations 
are shallow due to pain. Color is now good on
both. Uh,, just a side note, we've only rudimentary gear, a
ranger's pack, basic life."

-----------------------------------------------------------------

Dixie studied her note pad, writing furiously as Johnny
talked into the red receiver cocked on her shoulder.
"10-4, Johnny. Hold on, Joe's here."

Dr. Early peered over Dixie's back as he took 
the phone, reading. "Johnny. How bad's the fire? 
Are you going to be able to extricate yourselves 
soon? The faster you're all out of that gas, the better I'll 
feel." he said, chewing on his pencil.

##Soon, doc. A man with us knows a safe way
out. We'll carry the young man out on a door if
we have to. He and I can manage ok and Roy's
ambulatory.##

Joe Early nodded, despite of only being tied to the
paramedic through a telephone wire. "If you
can, get a good look in your medical pack.
If it's a standard forest rescue ranger's bag,
it should have IVs and a bee sting kit inside.
Use that kit's epinephrine on the teenager. Give
him 1 mg. IV push of that if it's 1/10,000, into an IV 
of normal saline, then set it TKO. It may bring him
around enough to stabilize him for the trip out."

For Roy, if you need to, 5 mg's MS, IM. The bag
oughta have that, too. I know the head ranger
on that mountain who's a paramedic.  Make
sure Roy drinks nothing by mouth. Not until he's 
evaluated. Chlorine turns to hydrochloric acid in the 
mucosal tissues when exposed to even a slight amount
of water so be aware of that and watch for signs of 
choking. It may develop fast in both your victims. Watch
your step around any fire hoses, too. Water fog
may be enough to cause further burns in the lungs
because of the chlorine sitting in them."

Joe rubbed his lips. "Oh, and be sure to take out
all of your loose pocket change." he added with a 
slight grin of embarrassment. 

Dixie was only puzzled.

----------------------------------------------------------------
"Pocket change?" Roy coughed. He was near
enough to be able to hear the voice on the other
end of the phone.

Gage shushed him as Joe Early elaborated, his
quiet calm voice filling the dark smoky circle
of space around all four men. The flashlight set
on the table between them fizzled fitfully as
it struggled to stay lit in the smoke.

The paramedics and Joe Dawson hung on Early's
every word.

##I've had people before stuck in a chlorine cloud. 
With a hidden complication. ## the doc
went on. ##The chlorine grew concentrated enough on the
scene to cause the copper in the pennies in their jeans 
to spontaneously ignite their clothes. So get rid of your 
coins or risk getting a hot seat. Literally. Silver change
suffers the same effect. Only they go off later on. 
So get rid of those, too.##

Joe Dawson hastily flung his vending machine money
away into the darkness. Where they landed on the floor,
little fires popped and erupted as their substance burned
under the layer of green chlorine hanging over the floor.

Hastily, Joe got Benny's pockets cleared, too.

And Roy and Johnny rapidly did the same self
purging. They all flinched when the coins rolling
around them, caught flame and melted in noisy
tiny explosions.

Gage sighed in relief. 
"We're ok, doc. That was very good advice. Thanks."

##No problem. Let me know updates at the slightest 
changes as you go topside when your walkie talkies
start working again, ok? ##

"10-4, doc." And Gage repeated his medical orders
back to Dr. Early quickly. 

##Good luck.## Joe said, and the phone in Johnny's
hand clicked off.

Gage quipped. "That Doctor Early,.. He's a regular
007, you know that.. exploding pocket change.. Geesh."
Then on a thought. "Say,.. I could have a little fun
for the future knowing that. Next time Chet and I are 
in a chlorine spill, I think I'm not gonna warn him."
He bent with industry to get his IV, laced with epi, 
going on Benny.

Joe Dawson split a gut.

Roy found a second bee kit, smiling. 
"There's more than one of these."

"Good. Put your name on it. If you get yourself 
wet, you're gonna need it." Johnny said seriously. "Man, 
first I've ever heard. Firemen avoiding water vapor like 
the plague. I wonder if Cap knows about it."

"I'm sure he does.." Roy chuckled, his laryngitis 
staying thick. He wrapped up the O2 and put it away 
for later use into the blue medical bag and put back on
his air mask. "We're under extenuating circumstances.
Normally, we aren't stuck under a chlorine gas cloud 
for long enough periods to worry about it. And any
wash downs conducted are always done under safe air 
conditions so no dangerous amounts of acid are ever 
formed enough before they're washed away entirely."

"Yeah, but it's still weird. Being temporarily allergic 
to water.." Gage snorted.

"If you can put it that way.." Roy agreed. "The allegory
fits. In a sense, Benny and I ARE sensitive for the time 
being."

"Ok.." Joe said suddenly. "Does your sweat count as water?
If it does, I'm not waiting around to find out the effects.
Benny, let's go." and he picked up the young man into
his arms. "I'm moving us out. Now." he said firmly
as he grabbed the boy's air tank from the floor as well, 
and slung it over his shoulder around them both.

DeSoto hastily handed the older worker the IV bag
Gage had begun on Benny while Johnny snatched
up the blue bag quickly to keep the man from
ripping the oxygen tubing off the cylinder inside.
"Slow down! Don't pull out Benny's oxygen!"
Johnny said. "Joe! Roy can't move that fast."

"Yes I can.." Roy said, painfully rising from the
chair.

"Oh. Uh. Ok. Guess that means you can give yourself
your own morphine. Here." Johnny said, handing over
the capped syringe to his partner with his one free hand.

Then he was yanked away by the stretched cannula
tubing between Joe, Benny and the ranger bag, into
the darkness.

DeSoto shook his head, amused even in crisis
as he rolled up his turnout sleeve as he walked to 
inject himself into the meaty part of his forearm.

He shuddered when the metal needle from the injection 
tube evaporated into flame as it hit the floor after
he was finished.

The four men moved down the dark cracked
tunnel, comforted only by the small nimbus of
torchlight as it swirled in the chlorine around
their ankles.

They reached a junction where the ceiling hissing
was louder.

"Uh oh. That's water I'll bet." Joe said, pointing
upwards. "That d*mned chlorine's eating all
the pipes!"

"Oh, I get it, acid baths for everyone.." Gage said
sarcastically. "Those pipes copper?"

"Don't ask.." Joe said, gently cradling the comatose
Benny a little more protectively in his arms.

They walked a little faster past the area.

Joe paused in the darkness. "Here. There's
a stairwell."

"How far up?" Gage wanted to know.

"Again... D--"

"Don't ask.." Roy parroted simultaneously,
smiling grimly.

Joe opened the door into the landing
and looked up. 

Right then, the pipes in the ceiling gave way
and let loose a flood of water.

The older man and Johnny leaped into
the safety of the stairwell but Roy was a 
little slower because of his injury and medication
and got water onto his arm as he jumped.

The forearm on his turnout began to smoke
from newly formed hydrochloric acid.

"Ahhh!" and he pulled his arm up out
of his sleeve and inside his jacket,
while Johnny pulled the acid singed
material away from Roy's body with
his coat halligan. "Joe! Close the door
behind us. Roy, don't move! I got it!"

DeSoto froze in place where he lay sprawled
on the concrete steps, breathing painfully
in high pitched wheezes of panic as he
remained still and watched his jacket
bubble and steam.

Johnny reached into the ranger bag and
pulled out some clothes shears. Ruthlessly,
he cut off the smoking sleeve and it dropped
to the ground. Then he knelt, cupping his
hands around Roy's face plate, "You ok?
Roy? I got it off. Can you still breathe ok?"

For several numbing seconds, Roy couldn't
reply. Then his helmeted masked head nodded.
"It didn't get to me. And my mask kept out
the water vapor."

Joe Dawson reported out loud, too. "Benny's 
still ok. He's breathing the same."

Gage, didn't doubt the man, but placed a hand on
the teenager's stomach anyway subconsciously
in a check. "We were lucky." he panted.
"Come on. Let's get to the top. Joe, if you get
tired. We'll trade. I may be scrawny, but I'm strong.
I can carry Benny.."

"You just go right on playing bellhop. I'm doing fine."
Joe said, barging past the two paramedics. He
started climbing the stairs strongly. "I can carry
him all day if I have to. I owe it to him and his
ma to do my absolute best." his voice echoed.
He turned around and just waited for the other
two to catch up to him.

Johnny Gage gave Roy DeSoto a hand up from
where he curled on the floor. "Wow. With devotion
like that, I'm surprised you never joined the
fire department, Dawson." he said.

"Not enough pay.." spat the older man.

"Really?" Gage said, stopping in his tracks.

"Yeah.." Roy gasped. Then he staggered.

"Roy?" Johnny startled, grabbing him.

"I'm ok, it's just the morphine."

"You sure about that?"

"Yeah. I'm not shocky. Come on, let's
go." Roy insisted. "Benny can't be delayed and 
it's gonna take a while for any help to get to
us once we're out on the mountain. It's 
probably getting dark already." he coughed,
and immediately doubled over in pain.

Hefting the blue bag and its precious tether
of oxygen from Benny a little higher on his shoulder, 
Johnny pulled Roy's still sleeved arm over his
neck. "Easy. Don't drop your head like that, you're gonna
make yourself black out. Now take a big breath.
That's it. Ready? Ok. Up. First this stair. That's it.
Now the next. Roy, pick your right leg up a little
higher. Ok, now you're doing it. Good."

Slowly, the four men made their way up out
of the heart of the burning tunnel and soon, they
found themselves underneath the scented canopy
of a spectacular boreal forest of slash pines.

They all threw off their air masks gratefully
and sucked in cool earthy air that was
tinged with tannin and a hint of rain.

Gage's heart sank. "We gotta go higher.
The talkies won't reach anything under here.
These trees are huge. And thick. 
Joe, where's the nearest ridge?"

Joe turned around in a circle with his limp
burden, Johnny keeping pace, as he caught
his bearings. Then he threw his filthy haired
head upwards. "Up there. That's Devil's Head
Trail. A ranger station's at the top. With any
luck, ...Tim Cassidy's still there."

"Who? " Roy asked, resting against a spicy
tree trunk.

"Tim Cassidy.." Joe elaborated. "He's the
assistant head ranger. A real short wicked kinda guy 
at times but he's got a real level head. He'll help
us out in a flash. Who knows, maybe Julie Beck's 
up there. She's working today."

"Julie Beck?"

Joe filled him in. "Remember the medic the
doc said he knew who packed out this
medical bag for us? Well she's it."

Gage's mouth fell open. "That ranger
paramedic's a..a...woman?"

"Yep." Joe said distractedly, still
holding Benny.

"And she's a ranger?"

"What's the matter with your ears, John?"
Joe asked quizzically. "You going deaf
with fatigue? Yeah, a real Sierra Nevada
forest ranger. One of the first ever stationed
at Devil's Head. You'll like her."

"I'll bet.." Johnny said, warming to the idea.

"Does that tower have a radio?" Roy asked, still catching
his breath. " We may still be out of HT range of Cap 
and the chief from up there. Our truck crash's on the 
other side of the mountain where we might not
be able to reach them."

"It's got one. You see, that station up there
is the state's best lightning research base in
the entire country.." Joe said proudly.

"Lightning?" Gage's smile fell away.

"Yeah, happens all the time. Especially this
time of year. Something to do with the way
the weather patterns fall around these parts."
Joe said.

"How long will it take for us to reach it?"
Roy asked.

"Oh, about ten minutes. It's just up that
trail that way."

"What trail?" Gage said, seeing only
massive boulders and lumpy juts
of steel colored outcrops with no level
surfaces underneath the monster pines. 

"That one. See the sign?" Joe pointed.
"It's right up that way. It's not far at all."

Johnny's hope for an easy rescue was
dashed. A tiny weathered, tilted wooden side
proclaimed the trail's head up the mountain.
The way was difficult and gnarled by car sized
playdoh ball stepping stones.

"I see it, Mr. Dawson." he said unhappy. "But 
first, set Benny down. I wanna get another set of 
vitals. On him and Roy both."

"Ok.." Joe said cheerfully. And he gently set
Benny's quiet length down on a giant mossy
log near them.

"Better sit down, Roy, while I get yours next."
Johnny said, taking the teenager's carotid pulse
as he studied his wrist watch. "Looks like we got 
a long couple of hours ahead of us. Try to catch 
your breath back." Johnny told him.

Roy just hung his head and he let the morphine take
over. It swept over his body in a rush and took the
edge off his pain. ::Just a little. Only,...just :: he
thought wearily. ::I wish I could take a nap like Benny
here.  Right now, I don't feel like I'm much use to 
anyone. I hope I can make it to the top of all that.::

--------------------------------------------------------------

Photo :  Dixie listening to a red phone.

Photo:  A firefighter's jacket smoking with acid.

Photo: SCBA'd firefighters supporting a man on a spiral stair.

Photo:  A ranger's tower high on a rocky cliff with stairs.

Photo:  A steep rocky trail under pine trees.

Photo: A height of stairs going up a cliff.

Photo : A ranger showing a child a jar of lake water.  

*****************************************************
From:  Jeff Seltun <finiterider@yahoo.com> 
Date:  Thu May 27, 2004  8:35 pm
Subject:  Search and Rescue..

 
Gage gently shook DeSoto's shoulder, "Hey... Roy.."

"Huh?" he replied, bleary eyed from the depths of
a deep nap. He looked up to see Johnny wearing a
stethoscope and the oxygen was out again at his 
knees. Roy felt his face to find the bag's mask there 
on a flow and his shirt was flung open, his chest 
exposed to the growing chill of the late afternoon 
forest.  "What happened? Was I out?" he wheezed.

"Nope. You came around to a rub with me
barely touching you. My guess is the pain killer's
messing with you a little bit. I only got this on 
ya to make waking up a little easier. You were 
sleeping more than soundly." Gage said, repositioning
the mask over Roy's nose and mouth absently.
"So I took another vitals set a minute ago."

"What are they now?" Roy asked, tossing a 
careless hand towards the stethoscope around 
Johnny's neck.

"Better. BP 124/ 78. Resps normal at 14."
Johnny replied. "Your pupils are sluggish though 
because of the morphine."

Roy looked down at himself and started buttoning up his
shirt. He glanced up in a question about the rest
of the infomation concerning his chest.

Gage waved a dismissing hand and turned off
the O2 on Roy. "I was only listening to that edema 
you've still got. Benny's showing the same thing. Only a little
worse. He says he's bubbling on the left side
but he refused to use any of this." Johnny said,
rapping on the O2 tank with grimy knuckles.
"You still have no signs of a tension pneumothorax 
showing up. Start counting your lucky stars, pally."
 
Roy sat up a little higher against the log he 
was slumped against. His ribs ached only dully 
and it no longer felt like a vise was wrapping
around him. "Benny's awake?"

"Umm hmm and hungry." Gage nodded, taking
Roy's pulse and scribbling his reading down
on his notepad. "Seems all this fresh air out
here's all he needed to make a fantastic recovery.
He's already asked when we can begin heading
up to the ranger's station. I told him just as soon
as you felt like walking again."

"How long has it been since we stopped?" Roy 
wondered. He couldn't tell from his muted down
aches at all.

"Oh, about forty five minutes or so."

Roy struggled to his feet, pulling off the mask.
"An hour?! My G*d, Johnny. Cap must be outta
his skull with worry about us."

"No he's not." said Gage coolly. "Remember my
conversation with Dixie at all? She said she'd
relay our game plan to escape to the engine
crew and the chief. I told her that we had a sure
fire route out of there with no possibility of
any problems cropping up."

"You're forgetting the water pipe bursting in
on us making all that acid rain out of the 
air."

"That didn't get you. Only your jacket. That 
wasn't a problem at all." Johnny countered
mildly, staying calm.

"Close enough!" Roy flared. He immediately
regretted his reaction when his ribs reawoke
into agony. "Sorry, I'm not myself."

"I noticed." Johnny said, the slight smile
never leaving his face. He put away the mask 
and tubing into its pouch and began repacking 
the portable tank into the blue satchel. "Come on,
gimme the arm on your good side and I'll
help ya to your feet. You can sleep all you'd
like once we get there." 

"Can't we wrap me up first?" Roy asked
hoarsely.

"You won't be able to breathe freely enough
for all the exercise we'll be doing climbing
those rocks on the trail. You'd never make it."

"What makes you so sure I'll make it now?"
said DeSoto with a foggy head.

"Because of the sheer fact that you're arguing
with me about it, Roy. Anyone truly off their
feed would never do that."

Roy's stomach rumbled right then, betraying
him.

"So that makes four of us who're starving."
said Joe, moving nearer to the two paramedics
when he finally saw Roy maneuvered to his feet.
"Man, I hope the tower's got good chow. I've never
been up there."

"Wait a minute. Wait a minute." Roy started up
again. "If that's true, how do you know this is the right way
to get there?" he said tossing a head at the tree log
sign declaring the existence of a path in front of them.

"Those d*mned stairs tell me so, mister fireman."
Joe said with a wink, pointing.

Roy's eye finally focused on a precarious flight
of maroon stained wooden staircases meandering
through tangles of boulders and into a chasm.
He could see them all the way to the top of the peak
to which they were heading. "Oh." DeSoto muttered
weakly. "Didn't see those."

"Not surprising with that shot giving you a close run in
with the sandman." Dawson retorted. "Benny
says he can make it ok without help. How about
you? I offer you a shoulder up."

Roy shook his head after pushing off the tree
he was leaning on. "That trail's single file.
I promise I'll sit down if it gets to be too much."

"I'll be the one right behind ya." Joe said, grabbing
up Roy's tossed aside turnout.

Johnny watched Joe speak quietly with Benny,
offering the young man Roy's jacket for warmth.
Gage leaned in dangerously to DeSoto. "Want
mine?" he mumbled.

"No. I'm not cold."

"Ok.. ok.. just doing those weird first aid things you already
know about." he said smirking. "Race ya.." and he dashed
off after Benny and Joe with the blue bag and both helmets
clattering around the air bottle he had forgotten to take off
his back.

Roy shook his head ruefully and followed after.

About half way up the mountain, it began to rain.

-------------------------------------------------------------------------

"Ho.. in the tower!" Gage cried out as they mounted the
final stairway in the driving rain. The sun, to the west,
was fleeing. "I've injured people!"

Tim Cassidy and Julie Beck both, came out of the glass
enclosure of the watch tower and out onto the
balcony. They saw the four men and immediately 
recognized all the fire gear despite chlorine staining
and water marks. "Coming!" said the red long haired
woman. 

Julie Beck immediately grabbed hold of the teenager
and helped him up the final steps into the dry interior
of the ranger tower. Tim Cassidy, took over for
Johnny and helped Roy out.

Tim recognized Joe right away. "Mr. Dawson?
That truck crash was in your tunnel?"

"Don't you two monitor your radios?" said
the maintenance man harshly. "Of course
that was my tunnel. The fire department
scanner should have told you that right off."

"They had to be relocated before they could 
mobilize the two of us down there."

Gage said, "What?"

Julie Beck nodded. "Mr. Gage. Captain
Stanley told us you were coming. I'm Julie Beck,
head rescue ranger and this is Tim Cassidy,
my local side kick. I'll answer all your
questions just as soon as we've taken care
of your injured partner and Joe's tunnel worker first.
I wanna get the four of you out of those
wet things and into dry clothes." And she
opened a locker and pulled out a box
full of spare civilian fall clothes in plaids
woven with thick, warm wool.

Roy's teeth were chattering so loudly
that Gage didn't protest. He went right for
them as Roy began peeling down. 
"Just how long is it supposed to rain 
a-anyway?" DeSoto asked.

"Not long. This is just an isolated cloud
front. Maybe... another few minutes. Then
the real show starts." she replied cheekily.

"What real show?"

A sharp vivid crack of purple lightning struck
very nearby and hit the rod on top of the
tower. Thunder jolted and made everyone
except the two rangers jump.

Tim Cassidy smiled. "That one. Happens 
every two days or so right around this time
after the sun goes down."

The rain, as quickly as it had come, departed.
But the lightning only grew stronger and happened
more often.

A machine whirred into life on the ranger desk that
reacted similar to a seismograph but it went ignored as
the two rangers helped Roy and Benny change
and get under blankets.

Johnny took the opportunity to get his bearings
on just how high up they really were.

A spectacular 360 degree angled view of jutting buttes
and a broad pine valley filled the look out
and the sight took Gage's breath away. To the east,
was a dark smudge of purple pink smoke and
a tongue of fire a mile wide. "A wild fire?" he gasped.
"Is that why rescue operations at the tunnel were halted?"

Julie Beck could only nod sadly. "Yes. The truck fire
started up a minor brush burn, but then this lightning
did the rest. The whole valley's about to go up."

"What about us?" Gage asked.

"Oh, we'll be safe enough up here. There's nothing
but bare rock around us for a quarter of a mile.
Only lightning can reach us. And we're far too insulated
to be effected by that." Julie said.

Cassidy got on the short wave radio to let the
distant fire stations know that Gage and DeSoto and 
their victims had made it to Devil's Head.

Roy looked up from his blanket wraps where he
sat on the couch. "Johnny, I don't like it. We only
had two brush assignments called out. And that
bluff over there looks really bad."

Beck had abandoned the view Johnny was 
transfixed by and was digging inside another
locker for all of her medical gear and medications.
"Captain Stanley thought the same thing. He didn't
know the condition of Roy and Benny here so he
ordered your crewmates to hike in to meet you
here. Lopez and Stoker and Kelly should be arriving
in about ten minutes, last radio call."

"Can I talk to them?" Gage said, surprised yet
again. "They might be in trouble."

"They're fine. They're not even in that threatened
valley, Mr. Gage. The lightning will knock out
their HTs for a while so you're gonna have
to trust me as to their ETA. They're here because 
I've formally asked for help." Ranger Beck said.

"What for?" asked Johnny. "Not for us, surely."

Tim Cassidy shook his head. "Not you."
"There's a kid's camp at Happy Hollow along
the Verdigris River and they haven't had time,
like you four did, to get out of the way. On the
last transmission from the camp counselors,
seven kids are still unaccounted for after
the camp was evacuated."

Julie laid out her paramedic gear and two
fresh O2 tanks for Johnny. Then she rose 
and hefted a laden backpack full of climbing
and extrication gear and set it by the door.
"You can contact your hospital base station
using that short wave radio right there.
I've IV's in plenty and I've also most of the narcotics
you fellas are used to from your squad drug box.
Make use of them and your doctors." she said
and she reached for some rain gear.

"Wait a minute," Roy said. "Are you and Mr.
Cassidy planning on going out there?"

"We have to. No one but us knows the
mountains as well as we do. If anyone can
find those kids, it's us."

Gage turned from his inspection of all the medical
supplies and he quickly got to his feet.
"Hang on a minute here. Don't you think that
we'll have a better chance at finding those
kids if we wait until our engine crew gets here?"

"Perhaps." Tim said thoughtfully, pausing by
the door.

"Then let's do that.  The guys aren't slackers
when it comes to rappelling and rural extrication
operations." Johnny insisted.

"All right, we'll wait.." Julie decided, tossing
her auburn shoulder length hair out of her eyes.
"Why don't you fill us in as to your injured friends'
conditions here and we'll see about getting dinner 
on the stove, all right?"

"Deal.." Johnny replied.

--------------------------------------------------------------

Fifteen minutes later, Stoker, Kelly and Lopez,
with full brush fire gear, drip torches and portable
fire shelters, arrived at the ranger tower 
from the steep trail's steps.

The wind was hot and no longer smelled like rain,
only ozone and sky bound electricity.

"Man, Gage..what a trip in.." came Kelly's
puffing, excited and very welcome voice. "Is DeSoto 
all right? And the other guy? L.A. didn't tell us
much from Dixie's report from Rampart."

"Yeah, nothing like worrying to make a guy
run faster.." Lopez said, ducking into the 
ranger's tower and out of the raging summer
night wind. "So spill the details."

"They're fine guys. Roy's got a few broken
ribs and Benny here's over some chlorine
gas exposure. Nothing dire." Johnny reported.

Stoker didn't say anything at all but went 
straight for the short wave radio and
hefted the microphone. "Station 51 to Base.
We're situated. Gage and his victims are
all right. The new fire's completely blocked
the foot of the trail up leading here so if you send
more men, have them come up an alternate
route. Over.."

##10-4, Station 51. We read you. Stand
by for air support's report on the spread of
the ridge fire before you head out with the park 
rangers on your SAR mission. They
offer its ETA in ten minutes.##

"Standing by.." Mike replied.

Julie was fast at handing out sandwiches and
pop cans to everyone in the room as the
lightning continued to crackle in a dry rage
around them. Soon, they were all eating.

Everyone ate but Johnny, who didn't until
he reached Rampart with his update and 
new medical data on Roy and Benny. Dr. 
Early was still working on the night shift and 
he was eager to learn the details. Then,
he dismissed Gage until rescue parties
could reach the camp kids after breaking
through the growing fire dipping into
the valley below the rangers station.

Benny went right to sleep. But Roy, 
feeling much better, joined in on the plan
of attack at getting to the camp before the
larger fire got there.

Tim seemed confident. "We've been down
to this camping ground before. Earlier
this spring. When a little girl went missing
from her parent's trailer. Julie and I were
called to be guides along the river bank."

"Did you ever find her?"

Tim hung his head. "Yes, she washed over
the falls three days later."

"I'm sorry." Roy said. "Thanks for the clothes."

"No problem. We always keep spares in case
a rainfall catches hikers coming up here by surprise."
he smiled. "How are you doing? Sounds like
the gas really did a number on your voice."

"I sound worse than I feel, believe me."

"What's Benny's etiology?" Julie asked from
as she took Benny's blood pressure from where 
he slept on the couch under the watch windows.
"I placed him back on some light 02 since he was
breathing a little fast."

"Simple suffocation. He turned around right away
with a few minutes of active ventilation. That edema
you're hearing, my partner says, isn't aspirant. It's
only a chemical fluid reaction from the chlorine.
A little albuterol should clear that up."

"And we got permission to use that Miss Beck."
Johnny piped up from where he and Tim and
the other three firefighters were still planning
their plan of attack to go hike down into
the valley after the missing kids.

"Understood." Julie said aloud, then she looked
thoughtfully at Roy. "That pain med still working?"

Roy decided not to lie. "No. But I'll manage.
I may be needed on this hike, too. Having seven
potential victims leaves us a little short handed 
in the paramedic department."

"It does." Julie said evenly. "But I could call down
and have your captain ground you based on my 
findings."

"Please.. don't.  I have kids of my own and the thought
of anybody else's lost on this mountain just turns my
stomach."

"Amen to that, Roy.." Lopez piped up. 

"He's going.." Kelly said in no short terms to Beck.
"We'll watch him for ya and I'll personally make sure 
he doesn't do anything stupid climbing."

Julie Beck smiled. "How can I resist an offense like
that. You know you firefighters are really something,
you know that?"

"I already know that.." Joe Dawson piped up. "They
saved Benny when I thought he was a goner for sure."
he said from where he was watching Julie care for
his young coworker.

Mike Stoker motioned Johnny to the radio.
"Gage, it's Cap."

"Fireman John Gage." Johnny said into the receiver,
knowing it was being routed through L.A.'s monitors.

##Gage, here's the latest report. Seven confirmed 
missing. Last seen kayaking by the north shore of
the lake near the river's mouth. Now the counselors
think the kids saw the fire coming even as the 
thunderstorm broke down on them and they believe
the children may be trying to head for higher ground,
to get away from the flashfloods.##

"But the ridge fire's up there." Johnny said despite
himself.

##I know that Johnny. And that's gonna be your
conundrum. Plan accordingly. The park rangers
with you assure me that they can negotiate around
this fire and the cliffs enough to reach the areas
the kids might be in without excessively putting
you all in danger. Now I'm ordering Stoker to remain
behind with your injured civilian while the rest of
you go on this SAR assignment. Think Roy
can handle that?##

Gage replied wryly. "I believe he can do whatever
he puts his mind to, Cap."

##Good enough. Now Mr. Cassidy says that
our radio contact will be sporatic at best during
this rescue operation so rely on visual flares ok?
I'll be on the west side of the valley working in with 
a staging team and I want you five with the 
rangers to work across the east side in a search pattern. 
I have ample brush fire crews moving in and three water 
choppers are now available for your sole usage should 
you need an emergency water drop in a hot spot.##

"Cap, I.."

##You five'll do fine. I've all the confidence in
the world that you and the rangers can pull this off.
Make the department proud and impress
the Sierra team. You're all those children've got.
Engine 51, out.##

Tim Cassidy let the closing line click off the air
and he shoved the hand mic out of the way.
"I can hardly wait to meet this captain of yours
Gage. He sounds like quite a man."

"He is. Believe me, he is.." Kelly quipped.

"Are we ready to go?" Marco asked.
"I've got six bottles of spare air and
an O2 tank in each backpack along
with your portable medical gear, Miss Beck."

"Thank you. And yes, I do feel we're set
here. Mr. Gage? DeSoto? Anytime you are."

And Julie Beck indicated the door  
as a wild stab of lightning filled the sky.

--------------------------------------------------------

Photo: Tim Cassidy forest ranger walking at you.

Photo : Julie Beck, forest ranger in desert.

Photo:  Purple colored lightning bolt at night.

**************************************************
From :  Sam Iam <lafddispatcher@yahoo.com> 
Subject :  [EmergencyTheaterLive] And then there were five.. 
Sent :  Saturday, May 29, 2004 2:31 AM 


Mike Stoker spoke quietly from where he
was leaning against the radio transmitter table
on the desk. "Benny's on an I.V. Should he
be left with me, like this, while having one in?"

"We're not going anywhere just yet. " DeSoto
said. "And your answer's no. A patient with
an intravenous line can't be left unattended
by a paramedic. Looks like protocol's rubbing
off on you pretty well, Stoker." and he grinned.

"I just remembered arguments between you
and Johnny a few years ago about how 
pointless call prioritizing was for a while there
in the system." Stoker remembered. "And
Roy brought up that point about I.V.s and
how it ties up service unit availability."

"How can I forget?" Chet snorted. "It was
the first time I've ever seen Gage passionate
about anything."

"Oh ha ha.." Johnny said with a glib expression.
"The way we got calls that summer WAS stupid.
I still remember that construction worker dying
of a heart attack when I was working overtime
for Station Eight's just because we didn't have
a rescue squad and a defibrillator there on time.
I was so angry that 110 was busy with just a simple 
syncope case who's M.D. ordered a start of a 
normal saline I.V. They had to escort her into the 
hospital because of it and our man died."

There was a sound of tenor voice from the couch.
"Then take it out. I no longer want it.." said Benny,
rubbing the sleep out of his eyes. "Don't need this
either." and he pulled off the oxygen that Julie
had placed on him earlier while he napped. "I 
appreciate all the care you guys are giving me,..
Joe said that you did a lot to save my life.. but those
kids down there need you more than I. Please,.."
and the young, dark haired man raised his taped
arm up. "Take it out and go. Use the fact I'm
refusing treatment if you have to justify not running
this change by a doc first. I'll be fine. I feel fine. Really."

Gage blinked, torn between his sense of precautionary
protocol and the instinct of prioritizing Cap's order
to the foreground. Common sense won out. "Ok... this
will only take a second." and he knelt down by Benny
and discontinued his I.V. "This is nearly gone anyway.
But promise me that you'll keep drinking fluids while
you're here."

"I will."

"Good man." and he pulled out the catheter after 
ending the flow and taped a cotton wad over the site.
He folded Benny's arm up in half. "Hold your arm like
this for a few minutes until things clot up again."

Benny sighed, and hid a cough. 

Mike?"

"Yeah.."

"I want you to get Benny down from here the first
sign of any more trouble vitals wise on him. Use a 
helicopter pickup soon as the weather breaks if you have 
to. We've found a place a chopper can land on the map
over there."

Mike Stoker nodded assent.

Then Johnny rose to his feet, appraising the teen
with reluctant ambivalence. "Benny, Mike's real good 
taking over and keeping people's conditions stable. 
He's quiet, but he's an all right kinda guy once you
get to know him. I trust him with all my patients."

"And he's a fabulous cook.." Marco added. "Makes
my little old mother from Pasadena jealous. So ask
him to make you some more food if you're still hungry."

Benny laughed, looking away shyly.

"Julie, we're clear to leave. Lead the way.."
Roy said, licking his lips.

Gage grabbed the backpack Roy was about
to lift. "I'll handle that thank you. Unlike Benny,
you ARE still under my care. You just make sure
you don't jar those ribs. Last thing we need is to
stokes you back up here. Walk ahead of me.."
Johnny fussed. "Stoker, stay on the communications
band. We'll be trying the whole way down. These
may not be able to reach the staging area, but
they'll sure as h*ll reach the tower."

"Check in every ten minutes.." Stoker recommended.
"I tested the frequency to the camp. It's still patent."

"Good going. See ya. "
Gage nodded and opened the door.
He left following after Kelly, Cassidy, Beck
DeSoto and Lopez, ducking only twice at
the lightning zinging around the angry night
sky. Thunder drowned out his enthusiastic 
farewell for Benny, but Mike and Benny 
saw his wave.

------------------------------------------------------------
Julie paused at the bottom of the long stairs
near the trail's foot. She gestured to her left.
"This way.. I've a method to my madness.
We'll be running a risk taking the main river path
due to high water but it'll be an added safety
measure should we run into a firestorm in 
this wind!" she yelled to them all.

Roy was panting with their exertions but
Gage saw his color never paled. DeSoto
asked, "How far do we have to go to reach
the camp's headquarters?"

"About three miles. The trail's rocky and
passes through a narrow gorge, but the
lack of rain's in our favor. It won't be
muddy." Tim Cassidy replied over
the noise of the lightning and the wind from
the storm. "Are you doing ok?"

Roy nodded and shooed the brown haired
ranger onwards. Gage, kept up at the rear.

"Plan C.." Julie said to all the firemen, "..is that
we all take the horses at daybreak and leave
from the lodge stables out on search as soon
as the light's good."

"Me? Ride a horse?" Chet startled. Then
his face broke out into a huge grin. "Far out.."

Johnny just moaned sarcastically. "Yeah.. that's
if you don't get yourself tossed off or something
and break a leg, Kelly."

"I'm not worried. I'm surrounded by paramedics."
Chet said as he picked his way over the trail
with his heavy supply pack. "And with a real 
pretty one, too."

"She's married.." Tim Cassidy grinned, looking 
back.

"Oh, too bad." Gage mourned truly, disappointed.

Julie was oblivious to the exchange, intent as
she was with checking her compass for 
their orientation and coordinates.

A sudden bolt of heat lightning lit up the way
ahead and they could see the glint of water
raging over a cascade in a smooth tongue
of dark amber water beneath them.

"We're at the river. Careful now." Julie
said. "Watch your step."

They had gone down the trail fifteen yards
when Tim suddenly shouted. "There! One
of the kids!" 

Everyone glanced up from their feet to
see a sprawled boy on his back on a 
shallow water sandbar.

Tim and Julie both dropped their packs
and rushed forward. "Look around, there
may be more. The camp teaches a buddy
system..."

Soon, Gage and Roy found a little girl, 
just as wet but alive. She awoke easily 
at a shake but was very, very cold to the 
touch. "It's hypothermia.." Roy said over
the storm. "See how she's drooling?"

"Yeah.." Gage drew out a thermal sheet and
wrapped the girl tightly inside of it.

"I'll carry her.." Roy said, "She's not heavy."
he said, murmuring encouragement to
the mute and numbed child.

Gage shouted out to Tim and Julie.
"How's yours?!"

"He's alive.. He's got spidering burns 
on his left leg. Looks like a near strike's
effected him. He's got a good carotid
and respirations." Julie shouted over
the strong wind.

"You gonna backboard him?" Gage
asked.

"Yeah.. We can use a backpack's rack
and bandages." she answered.

Soon, the boy was on O2 and immobilized.

Lopez and Kelly took both ends of his
improvised stretcher and Julie followed
at his head with a hand on the boy's pulse,
monitoring him. "Let's go.. We gotta warm
him up just as badly as we need to do her."
Beck said.

Johnny and Roy started off again in a tight 
pair around the semi conscious little girl 
leaning against Roy's chest. "She's not
even shivering anymore.." Gage said,
feeling inside the blanket for the girl's arm.

"I know." DeSoto replied. "Just hurry. I'm
watching her consciousness level closely.
Go.."

Gage reluctantly picked up his packs again
and hurried off after the other five ahead of
them.

Soon, the dark bulk of a well lit main lodge
of a log cabin style campground materialized
out of the darkness and storm strobing pine 
trees.

It was a relief to get out of the wind and all
their ears rang in the silence.

Johnny Gage whipped out his HT.
"HT 51 to Tower Base. Do you read me?"

Stoker's reassuring voice crackled into being.
"I read you."

"Contact L.A. and the search commander.
We've found two of the lost children. Both
are alive. Set up a relay to Rampart. They're
gonna need treatment right away.."

"Hang on,.. I'll be set in a couple of minutes.."
Mike replied.
----------------------------------------------------

Photo:   River rescuer watching a waterfall pass.

Photo: A red haired boy lying in a mud puddle.

Photo:  A little girl in a purple dress floating in water.
 

****************************************************
From :  patti keiper <pattik1@hotmail.com> 
Sent :  Tuesday, June 1, 2004 12:46 AM 
Subject :  [EmergencyTheaterLive] Let the River Run. 

DeSoto nodded with satisfaction as
Stoker's promise faded away over
the speaker. 

He carried the unconscious boy over
to the bed and began cutting off his clothes
for a trauma survey while Julie coaxed the fatigue
muted little girl out of her wet dress and got her 
under a thick pile of covers to begin the process
of rewarming her. 

Johnny tossed down his handy talkie
onto the desk with a clatter. "That's done.
Mike's getting us Brackett most likely.." he said 
to Beck and DeSoto. They nodded, knowing the 
senior physician was the top most expert on 
pediatric medical emergencies.

Gage moved to the pale little boy and
placed him on a new tank of oxygen and
checked his pupillary reaction.  His earlier smile
at Stoker's efforts waned into a frown of frustration.
"Fat lot of good it'll do having the doc on the
horn. There's not much we can do about treating 
these kids without their parent's consent."
Johnny bemoaned.

A ripping sound attracted all of their attention.

It was duct tape being pulled down from a screen
mesh.  "They knew we were coming.." said Tim
Cassidy, marvelling. He hefted up a manilla colored
cardboard folder in triumph. "This was taped to the 
lodge door and it's full of papers.These could be the 
go ahead we're looking for."

Gage said, "Chet, leaf through that.. See if
all seven kid's consent forms are in there.
Julie, I need you to help me check the boy's
reflexes, I have to concentrate on his vital
signs, and Roy's cutting corners, getting his I.V.
ready."

"Babinski's?" Beck guessed.

"Yeah. Both feet." Johnny replied. "Brackett's
gonna want to know about any keraunoparalysis.
I'm seeing bluish tingeing here on his legs."

Julie nodded. Then she turned to the little girl.
"Ok, honey.. I'll be right back. You just stay
snuggled down deep and this nice ranger will
be here to keep you company, all right?" Beck
said to her patient.  

The girl was too cold to reply. Or do much
beyond blinking a few times when Julie stood
up as Tim Cassidy took her place.

"I'll make sure she doesn't go to sleep."
he said to Beck.

Satisfied, Julie went to tend Johnny's request.

Marco had finished completing his examination
of the large pine wood panelled room. "The staff
really knew we were coming. Or at least the fire
crews. There's boxes of medical supplies and
tarps and extra hose and directions to the water
hydrants." he mentioned. "And a backup generator
for the radio to go along with the one it's attached
to already."

"Nice.." Chet said. "Johnny, to answer your question,
yeah, there are seven forms here. With a note from the
camp counselors wishing us luck and a copy of the
order the staff received from Batallion 14 to clear out."
he said, waving a transcript in the air.

"So the camp's abandoned.." Tim Cassidy said,
stroking the hair away from the tiny girl's muddy face.

"Yeah.." Marco replied.  "Would you stay behind if
you had that looming over your heads?" he asked
forking a thumb out the window to where the blood
red and orange glow of the valley fire glowed despite
of its distance away from the camp.

Nervously, the others glanced up to see the progress
of the thunderstorm fueled blaze.  Stories high flames 
across the valley tangled aggressively with the lightning's 
dry flashes and row by row, pines were disappearing
underneath them, utterly consumed.
 
"Power's been shut off.." Kelly said, checking out
the spacious lodge's fuse box. "I'll get a fire going in 
the fireplace. It's bound to get cold before it gets hot.."

No one laughed at his joke.

The radio on the table crackled into life again.
Tim Cassidy picked up the line. Mike Stoker
spoke quietly. He had their direct line to Rampart
utilizing the ranger tower's mile eating repeater in a
two stage relay. Stoker mentioned next to the paramedics
that he would be their message dispatcher to the doctor
at Rampart. 

Soon, the little lightning struck boy had his I.V.
started and a successful esophageal airway inserted.

The male child was deeply in a coma, but on the 
EKG monitor, his heart rhythm was steady and
stable with no deviations.

Julie rubbed his hair motheringly. "You'll be ok, 
sweety." she sighed in relief. "Keep fighting like
you are and try to wake up soon. We're all here."

Mike Stoker radioed in with the finishing instructions
from Dr. Brackett. ##51, do you have the boy fully
immobilized? He's concerned with blunt trauma that
hasn't begun to display any signs yet.##

"That's affirmative, Stoker." Gage replied into
the HT cocked chin tight to his shoulder. His other
hand was stringing the Ringer's line to the child's
needle port that he had started in the boy's jugular
vein. "On a back pack frame. Vasoconstriction 
seems to be confined to his limbs only. Dendrite
burns show the strike entry site was situated on 
his right shoulder and the exit was through a contact
point on his left lateral ankle about three centimeters
in diameter. A second exit burn is on his left medial
gluteus."

Roy put dressings on those, while they waited for
Mike to share their update with Brackett.

At Rampart, Kel looked up in relief at Dixie.
"That explains the great looking EKG we have
on him. The lightning didn't bolt through the heart."

Kel toggled the talk switch to the ranger tower.
"Stoker, tell 51 to elevate the boy's limbs to slow
his intimal damage. Last thing we need is deep tissue
necrosis setting in from internal hemorrhaging from
his extremity muscles.... Also, ..."

Stoker suddenly hushed the doctor with news
from the valley camp. ".. Doctor, DeSoto's
noting a change.. He's seeing nonspecific ST-T 
wave segment changes and a prolonged QT interval
on his monitor.."

Dr. Brackett pursed his lips, thinking. "Wish I could
see it.." he mumbled to McCall. "I don't like us
being in the dark on this one."

"Trust the boys," she said with a reassuring nod.
"You taught them well on how to interpret cardiac
telemetry. Rely on that now, Kel." 

Brackett studied Dixie's face seriously for a long moment,
then he opened the channel back to Mike Stoker.
"Ranger Tower, tell them to administer .3 mg's of 
magnesium sulfate I.V. push until they've reached normal
sinus rhythm. Tell them to watch for a loss of his deep tendon
reflexes in his arms as a signal to know when to halt
the drip in the port. That moment will be the indicator
of effectiveness. Do not exceed the dosage delivery
beyond that point."

##10-4, Rampart..## Stoker replied. ##Stand by..##

A long two minutes dragged by for nurse and doctor.

Finally..   #Normal sinus rhythm's been established..##
burst from the radio speaker.

Dixie celebrated with a beaming smile even as Brackett
leaned on the base station counter and dropped his
head in relief. "10-4, Ranger Tower. We read you.
Tell 51 to keep the patient warm and to keep watching 
for signs of heme pigments in his urine. I want to know
the minute any of those show up."

Soon, Mike Stoker finished his relaying information 
task and the boy was relegated to monitored status while
the report on the little girl went out.

Julie happily relayed the child's excellent vital signs
and findings and normal EKG. She even received an
order to begin warming her by mouth with hot beverages.

"How would you like some hot cocoa?" she asked
the cocooned girl.

Slowly, the petite child's eyes beamed in an
anticipatory shy smile at Beck's cheek caress
with the question. Julie was rewarded with a whispered,
"Yes, please.."

By the door, monitoring the fire's progress, Chet Kelly
was less than calm. "Gage,. Beck, we gotta move, now.
The edge's just crested the ridge top. And it looks like
it's moving in the canopy."

That alarmed all of them. Tree top fire storms were
horrible for their reputation, travelling speed
and ability to snuff out all the oxygen in the air.
 
"The danger of suffocation if we get caught
underneath all that's pretty good, I'm afraid.." 
Kelly added.

Roy said, "I'll stay behind. I'll only slow you down if
I was one to go. If things get outta hand with the fire, 
I'll radio Cap for a rush on his progress getting here."

Johnny nodded, rose, and put his helmet back on.

Julie accepted the helmet Roy gave her, and his
turnout coat. She turned to Cassidy. "You make sure
to get the calmest horses. Spook, Molly, Diablo
Dot and Flash will be the best ones to go. They didn't
go out on trails this afternoon with the kids. I'll start
picking out the first likely places for us to search
on the wall map."

"Give me ten minutes and they'll be set.." and Tim 
dashed out to saddle the horses.

Gage went out with him. "I'll help. I'm an old hand
with horses. I own a ranch."

Tim's doubt on a fireman's ability with horses
registered on his face only briefly before both
men began to run for the peach stucco-ed stable.

Just a short time later, Kelly, Lopez, Gage and both 
rangers grabbed ample climbing ropes, medical gear, 
air bottles and 02 as they went out the door.

Roy and Johnny exchanged lingering looks of worry
with each other about the remaining five kids and the
very rapid progress of the massive forest fire flowing down 
to the camp's valley floor level as the screen door banged 
shut between them.

Then there was no more time for hesitation.

They departed.

-------------------------------------------------------------------------

The wild night was inky despite the wildfire ringing
around them. Immense trunks of protesting pine
loomed on the dirt trail Julie led the rescuers upon,
heading for their first destination to search. The river.
And the kayak launching beach where the camp held
their lessons.

"It's not much farther!" Julie Beck shouted back at
the others. "The river eddies into a calmer pool here
before the rapids and the waterfall. There's no other
building around here that they could've gone to..." 

Tim Cassidy said. "There's also a cave up there on
that scrub ledge just above the boat shed. We'll
split up. Kelly, Gage, go with Julie. Lopez, come with
me. We'll be faster that way..! Don't worry about the horses,
they've been trained to ground tie.."

"They'll stay put through this weather?" Chet asked as he 
slid awkwardly from his mount, Molly, jarring his helmet 
almost off his head when his air bottle bumped off the mare's 
side.

"Like I said. Ground tied. They work with kids, remember?"

"Oh,... yeah..right.." Kelly said, rubbing his chin to dim the bruise
pang he received there.

Tim went on. "Just keep on your radios. We'll have a range
maximum of a mile until the fire's within 800 yards."

Lopez launched off Diablo's back with the same agility as
Johnny off Spook's.  

Tim's horse Flash minced his head in nervousness when
the stallion didn't feel Tim leave his back as well. "Whoa, boy.
You and I are med pack couriers for whoever finds a kid
first." he mumbled to the horse. "Easy boy." he
clicked his tongue inside his mouth to encourage Flash
forward after Marco running already for the cave's cliff.

The group rushed off in two directions before their 
flashlights calling loudly for the names of the missing five 
children. Julie remained on Dot's back for a high
vantage point as she cantered the filly after Lopez
and Johnny's swaying flashlights in the darkness.

Johnny and Kelly skidded to a halt at a bizarre sight
on the river bank. A little boy wearing a green ranger's
hat was sitting and fishing the river by the light of 
the looming fire on the ridge above. Next to him
lay an empty plastic bag of Wonder Bread.

Gage and Julie both ran to the boy thumping
onto their knees by him, while Kelly grabbed a 
blanket out of a horse's saddle bag.

Julie grasped the little boy's face to get his
attention over the blowing wind coming
from the rushing river below but the boy
angrily thrust his chin out of her hands.
"Let go.. I gotta get some fish. They'll be
better. Our bread's run out. Pete'll be getting
hungry. He's already so cold."

"What?" Julie said to the little boy. "Kevin,
what are you saying?"

"He's in shock.." Gage said taking the indian
blanket from Chet and wrapping it around the 
child. "I'll stay with him. Kelly! Go with Julie
and scout around.. Pete's gotta be nearby
here somewhere.."

Gage made no move to take the cane pole
away from the boy where he intently stared
at the bopper twisting in the river's current.
Instead, he wrapped a hand around Kevin's
wrist to take a pulse while he spoke softly to
him. "Kevin, it's ok.. Now we're here to help
you and Pete get out of here. The fire's not
going to get you. We've real strong horses 
who're gonna take us all out of here just as
soon as we find Pete. "

The staring boy didn't seem to register
Gage's presence.

"Kevin? Where's Pete? Can you tell me
that?"

Then, a flicker of recognition when the tiny
boy realized that something warm was
holding his wrist. His trembling lips spoke
so quietly, that Johnny barely heard him.
"He's hiding. He got sick after we ate all
the bread for lunch."

Johnny looked all around them hastily, but
saw nothing but wind torn forest.
"Which way, Kevin? Tell me ... which way
did Pete go after he ate with you?"

Kevin unwrapped one of his arms  from
inside the woven blanket and pointed.

Johnny lifted his HT. "The river! Head upstream!
Kevin says Pete is there!"

##10-4.##

Julie and Chet didn't go very far when the glint
of metal flared under their flashlights by the
water's edge. "Belt buckle! Over there!" Kelly
shouted.

Beck drove Dot through the marsh grass to where
Kelly was pointing and dismounted the mare,
searching and shouting. "Pete! It's Ranger Julie!
Shout if you can hear us! We're gonna get you
out of here!"

There was no reply.

Chet and Julie followed the point of sparkle
near the ground to the river's beach head.

Pete lay head and shoulders under the water,
sprawled beneath an overturned kayak.

"Oh, no...." Julie moaned and ran.

Chet Kelly radioed Gage in a pico. "We found him. 
Submersed in shallow water, face down. Hang on.."

Back at the high bank, Johnny's face didn't change
from its gentleness as the bad news reached
him as he sat with an arm around the silenced
Kevin. He didn't even turn around when the
sounds of aggressive suctioning and CPR began
in the bulrushes behind him. All his attention was
on the small child in his arms.

Kevin whimpered. "I gotta catch a fish. Bread's
not enough. Pete'll be so hungry come morning.
I don't know why he's still sleeping there.." he
sobbed weakly.

"Kevin.." Johnny said, resting a warm chin on
the boy's hat covered head that was sticking out 
of his warming bearhug.

"....a  real big one.  A brookie.. With shining spots
and ..and.. and.. a gold tail... Just like Ranger Tim 
said we'll find here in the middle of the willow pool.
See? I got my bobber out real far. Right to the very
center. I'll get one. It's only a matter of sitting real
still and keeping quiet and.. and..and waiting it o--"

"Kevin.. I gotta share something with you.. It's
gonna be some news... I'm afraid, some ....
really really bad news... about your friend..."
Gage whispered softly. He could feel the boy's
shivering grow more slight in fear.

He glanced over and saw the trouble Beck
was having trouble inserting an endotrach tube
because of an odd stiffness in Pete's neck
and the lack of pinking in his skin from Chet's
more than ample one handed CPR. A wide 
open oxygen line hissed anew when they 
saw the lack of effective color, too.

 Kevin's voice rose in his plans for helping Pete
get food enough to eat, louder and louder, trying 
to drown out what the paramedic holding him 
was trying to tell him. "...and we'll get a good campfire 
going. And we'll cook that fat trout up real nice until it's
so juicy you can just spit!"

Chet and Julie both looked up at Kevin's
agitation, but continued to revive the cold,
blue little boy beneath their hands. Julie
switched to using an ambu bag and a
simple oral airway when the better one
failed to thread. 

Johnny saw the long IC epinephrine syringe
unsheath, and get used after a short 
conversation on the radio.

Gage held Kevin even tighter and gently
hushed him. "Shhhhh.. it's ok. We're not hurting
him. We're just being his heart and we're breathing
for his lungs because they can't do that right now.
Pete's too chilled."

Bright tears sprang from Kevin's eyes and
he flung the fishing pole away into the water
and he whirled to hug Johnny fiercely around
the neck, burying his face in the fireman's 
shoulder. "I didn't want Pete to drown.. I- I..I
told him ....*sob* we shouldn't use the kayaks by
ourselves. But he..he..he wouldn't listen.
He sneaked us away when we were supposed
to leave camp after Counselor Sue told us that 
the fire was coming. I tried to drag him out, but 
he fell back in."

"Chet, stop CPR!" Gage heard Julie shout. "I'm
getting a whole lot out of his stomach. Roll
him." 

Panting, the two rescuers turned the boy to drain
his nose and mouth. A flashlight bumped and spun
around on the ground, casting light onto Pete's
bared skin. A dull purplish stain sharply drew itself 
down the bottoms of Pete's legs, butt and back.
What it was was undeniable to both the paramedics
working on him.

Chet didn't catch it right away. "Ok, Julie, I got
his airway clear.. turn him back over."

Julie remained frozen where she was huddled on
the moss, not really seeing the signs her eyes
were looking at.

"Come on, Julie!" Kelly said, "I gotta start up
again. Let go of his shoulders now.. What's the problem?"

"Oh, no. There's pooling." Julie's shocked voice
gasped as she ran her fingers over Pete's skin
in disbelief.

Chet didn't understand. He was deep in caregiver mode.
"Beck. Turn him over. I'll take over on the bag. "

Julie's words finally made Gage look over his
shoulder at them and the signs Julie was examining.

Chet didn't hear him, intent as he was. "Beck, start
the chest compressions. We've already waited too
long here."

Gage yelled, knife sharp at his coworker. 
"Stop! It's lividity, Chet! Open your eyes and get a 
good look at him. It's over. Can't you see that Pete's 
really g--." But  he broke off.

Stunned, Chet's face fell out of urgency to one of profound 
sadness as the suction tube slipped from the boy's
mouth and dropped to the sand from his gloves.
He lowered his head... and the curly haired 
fireman lifted his hands away from the boy.

The wind died then, and the forest filled with a smoky brooding 
silence and a strange blackness.  The grownups tensed as the 
sound of the approaching hungry fire grew, hissing and popping.
It made their ears ring with its fiery noise.

The only thing louder was the violent, choking
sobs of a little boy whose heart was broken.

"Kevin.. it's ok to cry..." Johnny said to him,
almost reluctant to touch the angry frightened
little boy who was shrinking away from him.
"Pete's in a better place now.. There's nothing
else we can do. He's not cold or hungry any more."

"..no..."

"Kevin.. we have to go now." Gage said in 
a firmer voice, rising to his feet, bending over
to grab the cocooned Kevin's shoulders.

The boy, looking up at the adults with his eyes 
red and weeping as he tore out of Johnny's grip.,
snarled. "I'm not leaving Pete! Ranger Tim says that
you never, EVER leave a buddy. I'm not going!"

He turned to run but the river stopped him.

"Kevin.. Look.." came a woman's call.
"I brought Dot with me so she can take us home.
I know it's very dark but can you see her spots?"

"What?" Kevin sobbed.

Beck held out her hands and the reins lying there.
"Show Dot how to get back to camp. She's lost
and..and I don't think she remembers the way. She 
needs you.....*sniff* .....Here."

Again Julie offered Kevin the reins of the horse.

Bravely, the tearful boy nodded and he accepted them,
mounting quickly in front of Julie on the saddle.
Beck turned her horse and galloped towards
the direction of Tim and Marco and the cave site.

Behind them, Gage and Kelly put Pete's covered
body into an uprighted kayak and launched it into
the river followed by a hastily made anchor of rock
and a long length of rope. 

Gage nodded at Kelly when they were through.
"The fire won't be able to reach him out there. A recovery
crew can come back to get him later."

The two firemen grabbed their horses and hurried
after Julie and Kevin.

-----------------------------------------------------------------------------

Cassidy and Lopez found the other three children in
a cranny deep inside the shallow granite cave at the top
of the cliff. It took very little effort for Gage and the
others to climb up, reach them, and harness them
down safely to the pine needle carpetted valley floor.

They were dirty, and scared, but uninjured.
Two fireman each took a child and so did one ranger
ranger as front passengers aboard their mounts.

The five horses were galloped quickly back to 
the trail..

But the fire had beaten them first.

Tim's horse Flash, reared as a fireball of burning tree
crashed to the ground in front of them. But he
held on to the little girl in his arms so tightly, that 
she didn't fall off.

The air immediately grew too thin to breathe.

"*Cough*! Fire storm! Get back to the river!" Tim yelled. 

"*Choke* Masks!" Lopez ordered. "Share yours with the 
kids!" he said, controlling Diablo's head so he wouldn't jar
the child sitting in front of his knees.  The air bottles
immediately provided breathing room for the humans.

But the horses began to stumble; to trip in the lack
of oxygen as sparks flew down from the fire in the
pine tops.

Julie gave a shout and smacked a rope so loudly
on Dot's haunch that it startled the other horses
into a bolt after her. "Go back! *Gasp*! We gotta
reach the river and go across. It's the only way we'll
find any breathing room for the horses." She whirled
Dot the appaloosa around in her tracks.

"What!? Away from the camp? That's nuts! We're 
leaving Roy and those two kids behind!" Kelly shouted,
trying to slow his chesnut mare's flight after Dot.

"Cap'll get em, Chet! He's on the way with
the fire crew and a stokes team remember?!"
Gage shouted.

Kelly let go of his hold on Molly's bit and started
kicking her flanks. "Ok, come on, girl. Move!"

Johnny clucked urgently, leaning down to encourage 
Spook into greater speed. "Easy boy, just a little 
*cough* farther." he said, giving his mask to the
child in front of him.

The fire became a live animal and writhed above,
boiling the air and stripping the pines into black
ember impaled skeletons of char in seconds.

But the massive fire column twisting in the sky 
did not descend to consume the rescuers
and children into its fierce dance.

A wall of heat began to burn the hides of
the laboring horses on their rears.

Then..... Sploosh!

The water's surface offered its layer of breathable air
when the five horses splashed into the river's current 
and began swimming for the shelter of the opposite 
side.

Looking behind him, Johnny could just see the orange
dot of Pete's kayak safely moored by the beach in the 
center of the willow pool. Then smoke obscured it.

Blowing hard and coughing, the camp horses bore
their riders onwards, gasping in effort and frothing.

Then they were staggering up the far side's knotty
boulders and into the peaceful forest whose fire hadn't 
yet the strength to endanger.
  
The firemen and rangers glanced back only once at the
raging inferno they had left behind. Two singed deer
stood in the river, looking back at them, frightened 
of the humans but even more frightened of the fire. 
The mulies didn't even move at all.

Julie and Tim took them all to a very high bare rise of 
rock where Gage dismounted gladly. He took out a 
cherry flare from a pocket and ignited it for the distant 
choppers. Its light burst out into a red star from the wax 
seal and the wind carried away the steam trail into the sky.

As they watched, collapsed, and holding the horses,
drop planes and water helicopters cut a hole in
the fire line with chemicals and liquid suppressants
until the way to the ranger tower was clear of flames.

Soon, they were overrun with rescuers and vehicles
and brush firemen, who rushed to take the children
to the command center down the highway where
the ambulances and flight helicopters were waiting.

---------------------------------------------------------------------


Gage coughed as he sucked in more oxygen from
a mask an aid worker had given him in Fire Relief
Receiving.

Roy sat on a cot next to him, still covered with dirt
but he was still far cleaner than his partner was.

DeSoto smiled. "So, how did it feel to be on
horseback like that with the rescue gear on and all?"

"What do you mean, Roy? I was on horseback yesterday
at home when I worked out Eagle."

"You know what I mean. I've always wondered about
mounted firemen at forest fires... using horses to get around at
the fringes of a blaze, then using them to go on
rescues..."  he hinted. "I- I - I know rangers already have
a mounted service. I used to think that was really kinda neat.
I was just wondering that maybe I should suggest to someone
about the forest fire department maybe starting one up, too...." 
he said, very reflective. Then he smiled with shy curiosity at Johnny.
"So..how did it feel?"

"You know Roy, quite frankly, I don't remember much.
All I kept thinking about was those children and and..and..
keeping the fire off us long enough to save all our skins." 
Johnny admitted, cock eye grinned. "But I'll admit that deep
down inside, I felt a bit like the Lone Ranger because I 
had a mask on and everything." he joked.

The two paramedic firemen laughed together about
that mental image until Julie Beck and Tim Cassidy came
into the tent following their medical checkups. 

Gage smiled. "Hey.. how are the horses? I figured we
ran em pretty ragged out there."

"They're fine. Dot took a burn on the hock but the vet
says it'll heal cleanly." Julie said. "The rest of them just
have melted hair damage. No wounds."

"That's good."

Tim took off his ranger's hat in a gesture of respect
that made Johnny and Roy sit up straighter. 
"Well, we've got to get going. We've piles of reports to 
fill out about all this back at Devil's Head. 
Listen.. I appreciate all that you guys tried to do for Pete. 
It means a whole lot to me and Julie." Cassidy said 
meaningfully. The hint of sadness about the boy's loss 
still covered his voice.

Both Johnny and Roy got to their feet and accepted
the rangers' handshakes of farewell.

"It's our job to try, Mr. Cassidy. Next time, we'll beat
death. Like we always do ....the majority of the time."
Johnny emphasized.

"It's been a real pleasure.." Roy said. "Who knows,
perhaps we'll work together again in the future."

"Count on it." Beck beamed, wiping away her
tears with a kleenix through a smile.
"Take care.."

"You two.." Gage said. "Stay gold."

The rangers departed.

Sighing, Roy and Johnny vacated the
medical tent and stood outside under the 
stars. Already, the forest fire to the east, was
dimming as cool blessed rain fell in abundance to
snuff it out as the light of a rising dawn grew brighter.

"Hey, would you look at that.." Johnny said in mild 
surprise. He started smiling ear to ear.

"Look at what?" Roy asked, crossing his
arms over his dusty uniform shirt.  He winced when 
he bumped his taped up ribs.

"Over there, in the camp evacuation block.
That's Kevin, one of the little boys we rescued
on the mountain. He's in that tent under that pine
tree playing with one of the search dogs."

"Oh yeah.." Roy smiled in pleasure. "Looks like
he's doing fine now. Looks like his parents have
found him already."

"Yeah..."

A clattering of hooves on pavement broke their 
reverie on the soothing sight of a healing child
as Chet Kelly rode by on Molly, the brown camp stable
horse. "Hiya fellas!!  " he shouted enthusiastically.
"What'ya say Johnny.. Think you can hire me out
to exercise your barrel horse once in a while? I think
I'm really starting to get the hang of all this riding stuff.
Yeehhaaaaa!" and he asked Molly to rear in a trick
he had discovered that she knew.

The mare's stunt startled several passing firefighters
on the way to the firelines and caused a water
truck to screech to a halt in alarm.

"Chester B Kelly. Get down from there!" ordered
a booming, couldn't be denied voice. "You're making
the whole Los Angeles County Fire Department
look like a bunch of cowboys.." growled Captain 
Stanley from the nearby command tent.

"That can be a good thing, Cap..." Johnny murmured
secretively, thinking of Roy's earlier views.

"Johnny, you just hush.. Kelly, down off her and
get that ridiculous ranger hat off your head. I wanna
see hooves back to the shelter corral so fast that
horseshoe sparks'll still be lit on the asphalt long
after you're gone. Or do you like the idea of being
assigned drip torch detail on the fire line for the rest
of the day before you get breakfast?"

Kelly and Molly were ballistic missiles.

Cap felt the breeze of their departure ruffle his 
overcoat as they galloped away.

Stanley grinned in satisfaction and entered the chow
tent with a happy wave at Johnny and Roy. "That felt
wonderful. Always a good thing to let off a little steam
after a bad fire.." he quipped.

Roy and Johnny moved away from the fire command
tent and accepted plates of food from the aid workers
as they sat down in front of a bon fire lit by some
of the valley camp's staff, for warmth.

Roy chewed, after finding a comfortable position,
then he asked. "So... are you gonna do it?"

Johnny was inhaling his food like a vacuum cleaner.
"Do what?" he asked, chipmunk cheeked. He burned
his mouth on some coffee that was too hot and Roy
had to grab a handful of ice from a water cooler to
put out the fire.

"Let Chet work out Eagle.." DeSoto continued.

"Oh,. Huh. That.." Gage chuckled. "Thanks for the ice.
Don't think I scalded myself more than a little bit. Heh.
Uh.. I think I'll.....I think I'll let ....Chet handle my horse.."
he reflected.

"Your prized appaloosa barrel racer?" Roy asked,
wide eyed in shock.

"No, not him. I think I'll let Chet manage Cochise,
the Falabella. He comes about knee high. He's
a miniature horse, Roy."

Roy burst out laughing to the point of crying
out in pain when his splinted ribs shook. 
"Oww.www.. Ha.! hehe. Ow..  ouch.. I don't think
Chet's gonna like that idea very much. I think Chet
had in mind that he wanted to ride some more."

"Nah uh.. no way. Not on my horses. He can just
play amusement pony ride manager for Cochise
at the Fireman's Picnic event and be happy."

"If you say so. Johnny.. Come on, let's go get
cleaned up and hit the hay.. I'm bushed." Roy said
standing up and walking away from the campfire
to make room for new hungry firefighters.

Gage said, scooping up a donut from a box as 
he hurried after his partner. "Ouch. Roy, I'm
speared clear through... That hay pun wasn't very 
funny at all. " Then.. his voice lifted in an idea. 
"Sayyyy,, " John's purred in discovery, "If I play my 
cards right.. maybe I can get Chet to be my new stable 
boy at the ranch. He'll pitch plenty of hay then for sure 
if I can convince him that it's worth it." he grinned.

"Better be prepared to pay.."

"Pay what?"

"A wage. I don't think Chet'll do anything with horses
for free unless it's strictly riding them."

"Who says?"

"I do.." DeSoto said frankly, biting into an apple.

"Wanna bet?"

Roy stopped in his tracks and set both hands as
best he could on his hips and regarded Gage through
slitted, calculating eyes. "After a full night's sleep I will."
he challenged, chewing slowly.

Johnny matched his stance, just as scrutinizing, through
equally slitted eyes. His finger came up and poked Roy
on the chest. "How much?" he asked with a cat that ate
the canary smirk.

Mike Stoker strode by, in fresh turnout, towelling
off his shower fresh, damp hair. "Don't go for it. He'll
rob ya." he called out mischieviously.

Gage never changed his position. "Don't listen to
him. He's just an engineer. How much?" he asked
Roy again, without even glancing at the gesture taunting
head shaking in the negative Mike rounding the corner 
away from them.

DeSoto studied Mike and then angled his jaw in
a final decision. "See you later this evening when our 
night shift starts." Roy told Johnny and he resumed 
his slow, rib favoring walk.

"Aww Roy, pally. Come on, what's a little bet between 
friends?" Gage asked, stepping comically as he fluttered
around his much larger companion.

"A whole lot. Night, Johnny. Go saw some wood." and 
the tent door flapped shut in Johnny's face as Roy passed 
through it.

"I'd rather burn some...." Gage said, smiling. He turned back
around to look towards the civilian tents. "..in a campfire,
roasting marshmellows, with a little boy who really really
really likes to fish. I'll just bet little Kevin'll love riding Cochise
at the Fireman's Picnic Event next month."

                      FIN    

Episode Ten..   From Loaves To Fishes

--------------------------------------------------------------------------

Photo : A boy and dog in an orange kayak, in smoke.

Photo : Boy in a green ranger hat, fishing.

Photo: A firestorm bearing down on two deer in a river.

Photo: A woman crossing water on a spotted white mare.           

Photo: Chet and Johnny negotiating.

Photo: Men relaxing around a night campfire in the woods.

Photo: Roy in a cowboy hat, smiling.


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


FIN

 :)     This episode is dedicated to Hubert Joerg, a family
                    friend with a thick Norwegian accent who died of
                    an MI while doing yardwork. CPR couldn't save him.
:(     Please, learn this skill as soon as you can,.. and be ready  :)   


@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@
 
The Story Unfolds...

Season Two, Episode Eleven- Shadows of the Past
 

 ******************************************************
From :  <DJSBuick@aol.com> 
Sent :  Wednesday, June 2, 2004 11:19 PM 
Subject :  Re: [EmergencyTheaterLive] Episode Eleven Preproduction begins.. 


As the sun rose over the city of Carson, CA, the six men assigned  
to LACoFD Station 51's A-shift, were already awake, eagerly 
awaiting the end of their shift.  The previous night had been busy, 
with several MVAs and one particularly nasty warehouse fire that 
had kept the boys hopping until nearly 2AM.  But, in spite of the busy 
night, none of the men were showing signs of exhaustion.  Quite the 
opposite was true.  Captain Hank Stanley, Engineer Michael Stoker, 
Firefighters Marco Lopez and Chet Kelly, and Paramedics Roy 
DeSoto and John Gage were almost buzzing with energy.  Today 
was the start of a long vacation.  Ten whole days, and the guys were 
pumped up with excitement.  They had brainstormed and came up 
with the idea of a camping and fishing trip to the remote, but beautiful 
area that Roy, John, and Chet had gone to a few months ago:  Santa 
Rose County.  Roy, John, and Chet had visited the area and ended up 
saving a few lives in addition to some great fishing.  Everyone had 
agreed that it sounded like a wonderful idea, even Cap, who hated 
fish under the best of circumstances.
 
    "Man, I can hardly WAIT to get a lungful of that clean, mountain air!" 
said dark-haired paramedic John Gage.
 
    "Bet it tastes a lot better than the faceful of soot you ate last night, 
Gage" snickered Chet Kelly, unaffectionately known to his shift-mates 
as The Phantom.
 
    "Chet, ANYTHING would taste better than this sludge you call coffee," 
sniped Gage.
 
    "Children children, enough bickering," interrupted Cap.  "Marco, 
would you please make some drinkable coffee?  I'd like to drive up to 
Santa Rosa County without falling asleep at the wheel."
 
    "Sure, Cap," said Marco.  "Good thing my culinary skills extend to 
coffee."
 
    "Yeah, Marco," said Roy.  "Even Henry could make better coffee 
than Chet."
 
    Henry looked up at the firemen from his perch on the sofa and 
yawned, causing Mike Stoker, usually the quietest man on the shift 
to pipe up, "See!!  Even Henry agrees."
 
    "I don't think regaining consciousness is exactly agreeing, Mike," 
laughed Johnny.
 
    "Whether Henry agrees or not, can we at least have breakfast 
before we start debating?" said Cap.
 
    With that, Cap got up and walked to the refrigerator and opened 
it, looking inside to see what he could whip up for a meal.  Spying a 
carton of eggs and a slab of bacon, he pulled them out of the 
refrigerator, only to bump into Chet Kelly, who was standing right 
behind him.  

    CRASH!!   The eggs fell to the floor and broke, spreading out in a 
slimy puddle of yellow, dotted with shell fragments.
 
    "KELLY!!!  Watch where you're standing, you twit!!"

---------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Photos:  None.

*******************************************************************
From :  Maggie H <hutchtx@comcast.net> 
Sent :  Thursday, June 3, 2004 1:15 PM 
Subject :  [EmergencyTheaterLive] Shadows of the Past -- scene 2 


"Perfection!" breathed Johnny Gage as he slipped down into
the camping chair, a beer in one hand and a sandwich in the 
other.  

In front of him, the sun was sinking behind the mountains, and the 
the pale hues in the sky promised a gorgeous sunset in a matter of 
minutes.  Orange and reddish sunlight rippled across the lake.  A 
short distance from the shore, the silhouette of a boat and its two 
occupants bobbed up and down.  Chet and Marco, who had been eager to 
get out fishing since they'd set off from Roy's house at 9am that 
morning.

Behind the dark-haired paramedic, laughter echoed from within the 
long Skyliner camper that the guys had chipped in together to rent 
for their 10-day excursion.  It was parked some 300 feet from the 
lake shore, and it could provide a fairly comfortable "base
camp" for them, as they hiked and explored the area.  Heck, 
it even had a generator that could keep a fresh supply of cool 
beers on tap for the end of each day.  And even six men could 
comfortably sleep in the huge camper.

*Pretty cool,* thought Johnny as he sighed and watched the sky blaze 
a dark orange and fiery red.  

The sounds of laughter and voices blossomed as the door to the 
camper opened, and Roy, Mike, and Hank headed out and down to the 
lake shore.  Plopping their chairs down, they settled in next to 
Johnny.  

"Do you think they'll actually catch anything?"  mumbled
Johnny after a bit.  The boat was slowly disappearing into 
the darkness as the sunset faded into night.  A lantern in the boat 
had illuminated a few minutes previously. 

-----------------------------------------------------------------------------

Photos:  None.
 
******************************************************************
From :  Cassidy Meyers <killashandraRey@hotmail.com> 
Sent :  Friday, June 4, 2004 2:25 AM 
Subject :  [EmergencyTheaterLive] Things That Go Bump In The Night... 


"I wouldn't hold it past them.." Roy chuckled matter of 
factly. "You know, Chet's been working hard at reading 
all those Outdoor Life magazines. Maybe he's picked up 
a little from them." 

Hank chuckled as he sipped his icy Pabst beer in its 
plastic cup."I've never seen anyone strike a beeline for a 
boat faster than him. You hadn't even shut the motor off on 
Gage's rover here when Kelly and Lopez's rears were on the 
boat cushions, roaring off into the sunset. I wonder what they're 
using for bait though. He forgot these.."  and his foot kicked 
the styrofoam container full of swarming leeches. 

Johnny grinned, gulping half his beer before he set the rest 
down in the sand next to his chaise lounge chair. "You're 
forgetting he's still cringing about ruining breakfast for us 
this morning by dropping those egg cartons. Chet's never taken 
the steam that blows out of your ears whenever you're mad 
very well." 

"Really?" Cap wondered, his face suddenly vulnerable with 
reflection."Do- Do I really have that kind of effect on you guys?" 

Immediately, the other three squirmed in their chairs. Mike 
Stoker took this as an excuse to clear Johnny's empty plate 
full of fried chicken bones. "Gotta go wash before this crusts 
over." and he disappeared into the gathering warm darkness. 

Gage leaped at the chance, "I'll help." 

That left Roy in the hot seat, who bore it bravely. 

Around the corner of the camper, out of eye line, Gage and 
Stoker leaned in to listen to DeSoto's reply like eager playground 
kids watching a bully go to work. 

DeSoto kept sipping his lemon iced tea, considering Cap's 
question. "It depends..." 

At Hank's go on nod, Roy plunged into a man to man analysis. 

"At times, let's say the leaning in heavy is fully justified. Especially 
when you're dishing out the chorelist and the other guys have 
antsy feet about it. But then there's this morning..." and DeSoto 
trailed off, waving his dewy drink in significance. 

"Roy, I was hungry. We all were. And the stores were all 
closed because of Memorial Day. Now tell me the honest 
G*d's truth. Those BLT sandwiches minus the L and the T 
were disgusting, right?" 

"Well..." 

"Thought so. Henry seemed to enjoy what was left well 
enough. But d*mn it, Roy. Dropping those eggs was ...sheer 
carelessness." his voice rose in passionate ardor. 
"If he'd been carrying a hose nozzle and clunked it on the 
ground at a fire scene, a whole lotta guys would be in serious 
danger for lack of water because of a dented ring!" 

"Cap..." Roy informed softly. 

"What!?" Hank replied, a little red above his T-shirt. 

"We're on vacation..Can you simmer down? I think you're still 
putting the fear of the All Mighty into them." and he jerked a 
thumb over his shoulder meaningfully at the invisible Gage 
and Stoker lingering nearby. 

There was a clatter of a tin metal garbage can tipping 
over noisily as the two with their cover blown made tracks 
hastily. Gage went inside the camper and Stoker took cover 
inside the Satellite near the propane gas grill bottles. 

"Oh, uh. Right." Cap sputtered, taking a huge gulp of his 
beer to fortify himself. "Guess I should glance down and 
take a look at what kinda clothes I'm wearing before I spout 
off like that. Thanks for reminding me." 

Roy glanced at Hank askance. "You needed reminding 
when you're surrounded by all of this?" he asked in mild 
surprise. 

A sharp piercing call of a Red Tailed Hawk punctuated 
the air and a wave curled musically up onto the beach 
from a boat's wake as if on cue after Roy's question. 

"Well.. yeah.." Hank said meekly. "Do you remember 
the last time I went on vacation?" 

Roy turned his head and studied Marco and Chet's 
nodding profiles in the indigo twilight from where they 
were anchored sixty yards out on the lake. He could 
just see Kelly fussing with a fly on the end of his line. 
"Uh.." 

"Well, I don't. Emily tells me that I went to Pasadena or 
something for an expo about the time you showed up 
at the station..." Cap confided. 

"Really?" Roy's head jerked around. "That's ...that's 
a long time ago.." 

"You're darn shootin, it is.. No wonder I'm a little short 
in the wick department lately. Now perhaps, I'll get a 
chance to ..." and he sighed expansively, stretching, 
"..unwind a little." He sat in his beach chair, trying to 
look at ease, but failed miserably. 

"Yeah, well do it soon.." came Gage's voice as he exited 
the camper in his swim trucks. "We're all tired of hearing 
you pop your relief valve at every stupid tiny thing that 
happens." he counseled gently. "Watch me, Roy. I'm going 
kinda far out. The water's cooler out there." 

"Ok.." 

Gage dove neatly into the lake and swam deliberately 
away from Chet and Marco's fishing boat. 

"Maybe I should go for a swim.." Cap considered. 

"I can only watch one of ya at a time.." Roy replied. 
"Besides, maybe you shouldn't go in just yet. Four beers 
might cause a few problems." 

Cap slumped back in his chair, and looked at the finger 
full left in his glass. It had gone warm in his hand. He poured 
it out onto the beach in an out of the way spot and asked. 
"Is that Lipton stuff any good?" 

Roy's nose wrinkled just then. "Do you smell something, 
Cap?" 

Hank's long proboscis lifted and his nostrils flared. "Am 
I hallucinating? That smells like.." 

"Heyyy!!"

Both men turned out to see Chet and Marco flailing from 
the boat, and their motor kicked in immediately back 
towards the shoreline right at them. 

Roy and Cap didn't understand what Chet and Lopez 
were pointing at. 

"Behind you!" Marco shouted over the boat motor's roar. 

"Geez, turn around you guys! There's trouble!" Kelly 
yelled in frustration. 

Roy and Cap finally got the message. They turned around 
and looked back towards the camper parked underneath 
the swaying birch trees. 

The biff was on fire. 

"Ohmyg*d. Mike's in there..isn't he?" Cap asked. 

"Stoker!" DeSoto called out, rushing forward. He paused 
only long enough to grab the fire extinguisher that was clipped 
to the camper's trailer frame between it and Johnny's rover. 
"Hey, answer me!" 

"What are you guys waiting for?!" came Johnny's yell and his 
water slicked slender body booked high speed for the burning 
outhouse. He stumbled only once over the rocks where the 
beach ended and the forest began. "Just tip it over and 
he can get out that way.." 

The three firemen were quickly joined by the other two and in 
a flurry of shouts and hissing fire repellent and brute strength, 
they broke the satellite's concrete clamps enough to create a 
gap near the ground large enough for a coughing Mike Stoker 
to crawl out. 

Marco and Johnny dragged him away by the pants butt and got 
him to his feet. "Whew..do you smell... are you ok?" Gage asked 
him. 

Mike leaned over and spat stench out of his mouth and coughed. 
"Yeah, I'm fine.. How did that get started?" 

Roy stopped spraying the ABC extinguisher on some wires he 
had found touching the fiberglass shell of the biff. "I believe here's 
the problem. Some of this insulated wire on this timer valve's 
been worn bare." 

"You mean I almost fried with my shorts down because of a 
faulty propane tank regulator?" Mike said, still worked up a little. 

"Yep." Roy shrugged. 

"Why.... I....Oooo..!" Stoker sputtered. 

"Stoker... Easy, pal.." Cap soothed, taking his engineer by the 
shoulders briefly before thinking better of it because of his 
odiferous bouquet. "You gotta learn how to unwind a little.. 
Here, have my beer." 

----------------------------------------------------------

Photo : Stoker making fried chicken.

Photo:  Cap confiding in Roy.

Photo: An outhouse on fire.

Photo: A Pabst blue ribbon beer can.

*************************************************************
From :  Jeff Seltun <finiterider@yahoo.com> 
Sent :  Wednesday, June 16, 2004 10:11 PM 
Subject :  [EmergencyTheaterLive] Night Visitors 


There was a commotion in the darkness.
A rustling sound, from the woods. All six
firemen turned to face it.

It was a woman, her page style hair dishevelled from
a panicked run, that came dashing from the deeper shadows
into the campfire light. She was dragging behind her a 
running hose they recognized from the fishhouse. 
"Oh, my gosh. Oh my gosh.. Are you guys all right?!"

The gang's eyes oggled for the young woman was very
pretty for her age of twenty or so years. Roy and Cap 
immediately became politely discreet, for the young gal was
in a very short mini skirt and western blouse. Mike Stoker finally
jerked his head stupidly, answering their surprise visitor.
 "I'm fine. Not even singed."

The girl didn't stop and kept on rushing past the stunned men. 
"Good. Here, let me wash down these sparks still smouldering 
on the grass. Oh, I've got to hurry..  I don't want Beauford, 
he's the fire spotter across the lake, to see this. Knowing him, 
he'll raise holy Caine for sure if he sees a glow not inside 
a fire ring on the beach. He'll call in every fire station in the 
county for no good reason at all and having the campground 
crawling with firefighters in the middle of the night is the 
last thing I need the sheriff finding out about." she blithered. 
"I'm sick to death of dealing with fire boys. I've seen far too 
many of them this summer as it is on my resort's land. "

The gang from 51's shared looks of irony about the 
firefighter comment. Then Captain Stanley took a step
forward. "Uh,," and he cleared his throat. "..thank you Miss,
for the water. Here, let my friend Mike Stoker here finish that hose 
soaking while you sit down and take a breather.  You look like you're 
about to fall over. My friend Roy's got some iced tea chilling on 
the table over there. Help yourself. Please. You look like you 
could really use some. I'm Hank Stanley by the way."

The panting woman gave one last worried glance at
the smoking outhouse and back once more at the far shore of the
quiet lake before she accepted Hank's offer of a lawn
chair.  "Nicola Sommers. Charmed. Thanks." she sighed, 
dropping into the chair with a healthy collapse and sprawled
into an undisguised state of sweaty exhaustion. She wiped some dirt 
off her upper lip, while her other hand snatched the ice tea tumbler
Cap had offered to her from the picnic table. "Cheers. " 
And she downed Roy's whole glass of Lipton Lemon Twist as 
rapidly as she could.

The guys watched her every swallow. Especially Chet Kelly. 

The charming Nicola was oblivious. Then her head whipped
around to look back at the hose dousing Stoker was just finishing up. 
"Look, are you sure he knows what he's doing? Embers under
all this meadow grass can smoulder for hours.."

Johnny Gage came up aces.. "Stoker's a real pro, Ms. 
Sommers. You can kinda say that he ..uh....plays with water for a 
living... In fact, we all do.."

Marco smacked Johnny on the arm and he hissed under his
breath so only Gage could hear. "Don't spill the beans that we're 
firemen. We might lose her as some real good company."

Chet Kelly covered for Lopez's mumble loudly, covering
it up. "Nicola, did you come from the cottage house perched
all the way up there on the ridge?"

"Yeah. I had to. Luke, my bassett hound, starting carrying on
something fierce and that usually means trouble on the beach
so I started running when I saw the fire starting up."

"Wow, you made it down here to the lake in record time. 
You sure are in incredible shape.." Kelly continued and his eyes 
flickered downwards the length of her body, admiring her black 
leather boots to go along with the rest of her. Gage smacked Kelly  
discreetly on the back of the head for his indiscretion.

"Ow..." Chet complained, glancing back at Gage.

"Ow  what?" Nicola said, oblivious to the exchange. She
looked up from the empty ice tea glass she was returning 
to the table.

"Mosquitoes.." Gage supplied.
"Nothing." Chet said simultaneously.

They immediately reversed a verbal tumble.
"Yeah, d*mned bugs." Kelly burbled.
"He's sore from fishing." Gage admitted at the same time.

::Uh oh..:: they both thought. ::We're caught for sure.::

Cap and the other guys froze like spotlighted deer,
waiting for a defensive reaction.

But the young woman sitting across from them just
smiled sweetly and pushed out her bottom lip in acquiesence.
"Happens to the best of folks..." Nicola agreed, leaning
back and breathing expansively of the pine scented night
air to begin cooling herself further. "Especially city folks 
like yourselves. My guess is that you're all from L.A. or
very close there abouts."

Gage was surprised. Smart chicks really threatened him,
and his question popped out before he could wrest it
back inside of his mouth. "How'd you know that we were from 
Los Angeles?"

Ms. Sommers tossed her head at the Rover
still hitched to the rental camper. "Only city
cars are stained that dark from smog dust. And the only city
that's so smoggy this time of year is L.A. I spotted
your rover and camper this afternoon when you drove by my 
house on the way to the lake access road..." Her eyes twinkled
as she added more. "I wouldn't speed so fast next time.
Sheriff Bittner's new deputy is always on the lookout for
new out of towners to ticket."

"We'll keep your advice in mind. Had enough?"
Hank asked about Nicola's drink.

"I'm topped off. Thanks. That was really good."
Nicola tilted her dainty chin and high arched 
cheekbones delicately in challenge. "I'm the caretaker
of that resort you can see up there on the ridge. It's got
seven cabins and a pine log lodge and a trading post.
I sort of inherited it from my step father when he died 
earlier this past winter. "

"I'm sorry to hear about that, Ms. Sommers. " Roy
mentioned politely.

Nicola rubbed her nose absently.
"It's ok. We hardly got along as it was. It was just the two
of us for a long time. And it's taking a while to get the hang
of running the whole business. Foreign investors keep stopping
by saying they'll buy my land and everything on it to save me some
grief but the sheriff says that I shouldn't sell. I ..quite frankly, I'm 
growing to love it up here. Almost as much as the sheriff does... 

Say,.. what made you guys choose Santa Rosa County Park for a 
vacation hot spot? Can't say much about attractions around here. 
Except our sunsets, which are made to absolutely die for." Nicola 
laughed.

Hank laughed. "Sheriff Bittner recommended this campsite.
Johnny Gage and Roy DeSoto over there .." the two paramedics waved,
grinning in the fire glow as they were introduced, "...went fishing with him
last year after an adventure or two while working with him and fell in love 
with the place. Myself and Chet Kelly, Marco Lopez, and the man 
you already met watering the grass over there, just had to see what 
was so magical about Santa Rosa County, this year."

"Well, glad to make your aquaintance gentlemen." Nicola
said, getting up and shaking their hands one by one in greeting.
"Thanks for the tea, Mr. DeSoto. Lipton's my all time favorite."
She brushed some weeds and burrs out of her skirt. "Well,
I think I'll be heading back since everything down here is
a. o. k. " and she folded up her lawn chair.

The gang immediately rose to their feet.

Hank said, "It's almost completely dark now. Are you sure it's
safe to wander around the woods at night? We'd- We'd be happy to
offer you one of our tents to crash in until morning.. See?
Chet Kelly's got one already set up over there.." and he pointed.

"Oh, yeah. My sleeping bag's real warm." Kelly nodded.

Nicola's askance look at Chet's school boy oggling of her
unique attire made her raise her eyebrows and that gave the
gang her unspoken answer to the offer.

Marco piped up. "Don't worry about Kelly here, Nicola. We were 
just being neighborly.  Helping folks comes naturally to us. Part of
our jobs you could say. He didn't mean anything by that."

"Yeah, Kelly usually puts his foot in his mouth at least once during 
the day. Only now, he's on vacation and had to wait until now before
he embarrassed us all by doing it again." Gage said, with a glare
at Kelly.

Nicola was not offended. In fact, in the rising moonlight, she
smiled, still at ease.

Right then, an unearthly set of howls in the distance made the
whole gang start. Chet actually took a few steps closer
to the camp fire.

"And there you have why the campsite has up the no tents restriction
sign this week. Guys, I'm suggesting strongly to you that you all
sleep in the camper at night." Nicola said, pointing toward the
park's roofed regulations board. "The ranger put up that new
notice about two hours before you got here."

"Wh--What was that? Wolves?" Chet shivered.

"Something like them I suspect." Nicola said. "As long as you stay by
the lake and keep a fire up or stick inside your camper when it's
dark, you'll stay safe and sound. The sheriff and I have been working
on this little unwelcome wildlife problem for three weeks now. It's
just a matter of time before we find them all."

The gang was too busy getting serious chills over the eerie howling
chorus bellowing at the moon to ask Ms. Sommers any more
questions. Even Hank Stanley was mute and listening.

Nicola was getting her jollies over the city folks cowering
at the night woods. "See ya fellas. Have a nice vacation.." 
And Nicola strode into the night pine forest cheerfully. 

But, just before she vanished out of the fire's light, she turned and 
shouted back at them, feeling guilty about getting enjoyment out
of their discomforture. "Tell you what? If you're too afraid to cook 
supper, eat light of sandwiches or something for tonight 
and then come hike up to my cottage tomorrow morning.
I'll put on a hearty breakfast for all of ya.. I'm turning the lodge into 
a bed and breakfast inn. Sheriff Bittner says it's a concept
that's all the latest rage in the North. You fellas can be my first 
customers to try out my new menu.  On the house."

The gang nodded warmly and waved, saying that they'd be
there by first light.

Nicola was hardly gone a minute when the six of them fearfully ran
into the camper and slammed the door shut behind themselves.

The morning couldn't come fast enough for the gang of 51's. 

---------------------------------------------------------------------------------

"Say, this is gonna be a real swell inn, Ms. Sommers."
said Chet Kelly as he stuffed another poppy seed roll into
his mouth. "I mean, you got moose antlers on the walls and
everything.." he admired. Then his head nearly split in two
with a monstrous yawn that drowned out another compliment.

Nicola chuckled. "Somebody didn't sleep well last night.
Not used to roughing it, Mr. Kelly?"

"I slept just fine.." Chet said with a frown. "That's only after
those wild animals finally quit yapping at the moon around
four a.m."

Nicola whipped off her flour dusted apron and sat down
to join the gang eating. "The sheriff and I are going out this
afternoon to deal with those creatures. Don't you worry.
He's coming right after breakfast and we're going hunting."

"Is it the season for that?" Mike Stoker asked, chewing on
a ripe strawberry.

"It is when two town kids get ambushed walking in to school
from the outskirts and can't give a clear description of what
kind of animals attacked them." Nicola said. "I'll be glad to
see them gone."

Johnny Gage took a sip of his black coffee. "Were they hurt
bad?" he said, remembering the tiny doctor's office that he and
Roy had used for their injured the last time they were passing
through Santa Rosa County. "Was the doc in to treat them?"

Nicola showed some surprise. "You know the doc?"

"Sure do." Roy said, wiping a milk moustache off as he pushed
his empty plate away. "We ran into him helping a few climbers,
and folks from an auto wreck and then two more from a fishing 
mishap. We met up with Doc Frick three times in the same day."

Nicola set down her fork and stopped chewing. "Oh,.. so you're
the fire department boys Bittner keeps on talking about over
chili at Rosie's Bar.  He's still all hot to trot about that para.. para
medical operation he wants to set up between the area ranchers."

Johnny lifted a hand, pointing. "You mean he was serious about
what we told him last year? Roy and I thought he was just humoring
us because we didn't get in any decent time to fish like we had
planned on doing."

"Sure the sheriff was serious. Dead serious. I was even in the first
responder program for a few months. That is, until my step father
died. After that, I kinda got too busy to worry about that kind of
thing with running the resort and working on this new bed and 
breakfast business idea." Nicola said. "And I had to forget all
about that to concentrate on myself."

"Too bad. Santa Rosa could use more than just a few first aid
trained people." Johnny said. "I'm sure the doc would love 
to have all the help he can get."

"Nice try recruiting me back into the fold, Mr. Gage. But I
have to think about floating my resort and lodge first,
my college major second, before I even think about doing anything
fancy like volunteering in any spanking brand new rescue
program. No matter how good it is for the community. Learning how
to stick a few bandaids on people isn't going to pay my bills any
or my tuition. " she nodded empathetically. Then she
thought better of her distain to her guests and leaned in closer.
"Sorry. You know, about last night. You didn't have to hide the fact 
that all you were in the fire department business, guys. I knew that 
the moment I laid eyes on your fishing boat moored on the beach."

"Uh oh, more detective insights.." Kelly groaned teasingly light.

Nicola's eyes sparkled in a laughing smile.
"Yep. Locals don't include fire extinguishers and first aid kits 
as part of their fishing tackle's staple gear."

Johnny nearly spit out his orange juice. "Just by that?"

Nicola waved an absent hand, smiling. "That and the way
your friend Mike Stoker over here snuffed out those
embers. He used a fanning spray and not the end of a hose's
stream like anyone else might do. Training tells, guys.."

"I'm seriously glad for that, Ms. Sommers. Being their captain,
I'd be sorely disappointed if it didn't." Hank snorted.

Right then, the screen door opened and Sheriff Bittner,
the familar personality that Roy DeSoto and Johnny Gage
knew so well, entered the sunlit dining hall.

Everyone got to their feet to greet him.

But the rosy cheeked sheriff wasn't smiling. He opened
his mouth and said...

---------------------------------------------------------------------------

Photo : A page haired woman in western clothes.

Photo: Half the gang sitting in chairs.

Photo: The other half of the gang sitting in chairs.

Photo: Animated howling wolf at the moon.

Photo: Sheriff Bittner talking with Johnny and Roy.

Photo: A full rural bed and breakfast dinner spread.

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

From: "Roxy Dee" <laterrapincabesa@hotmail.com>  
Date: Thu, 24 Jun 2004 21:14:31 +0000 
Subject:  [EmergencyTheaterLive] Frick Frets And What Every Mother Gets.. 


"Nicola! Let me in to use your phone!" Blaine sputtered,
ignoring who was around him and barging past through
the cottage's dining hall and into the parlor where he
knew an antique phone rested on a table.

"What?" Ms. Sommers ejected. "What's wrong,
Blaine? Another attack from those--"

"Nope. But just as bad little Missy. It's Mrs. Caine.
She's hard up in labor at Ender's Pass and I can't
raise Doc Frick on the radio. I got his gear from town,
he said he'd meet me, but that was a half an hour ago."
he said loudly, picking up the phone's brass receiver. 
He bellowed to the switch board operator to try 
Dr. Frick's office one more time. ".....and don't dawdle, 
Mable!" he told her. "You know how fast Mary's kids 
come when it's their time."

All the guys listened with interest, keeping quiet, learning
more. Then Hank Stanley spoke up, gripping the chubby
law man's shoulder, getting his attention. "Sheriff,
can we help at all? My men and I are Los Angeles County
Fire Fighters and I believe you already know my paramedics,
here. This is Roy DeSoto and Johnny Gage."

Blaine Bittner blinked and did a double take, throwing down
the chattering panicking operator on the phone when he
heard yet again that there was still no answer at Dr. Frick's
clinic. "Why land sakes alive, I do believe my prayers have
been answered.." the sheriff. "Hiya boys." He said to Roy 
and Johnny. "It's nice ta see ya again. You've been missed. 
Can't you tell?" and he held up the now dead phone. "Let's go.
I can use all the help I can get." and he bolted out of the door, 
slamming the cottage's screen door shut in Cap's face in his hurry 
to get on with his emergency call. "Mary sounded like she was 
screaming to high heavens. Nearly frightened old Mable half to
death when she called."

Chet said, "I'll go grab the Rover, Cap. We can all go."

Gage grabbed his arm. "Wait a minute. Wait a minute.
Cap, we can't just go rushing off to ..to.. see this woman. 
We'll have the same problem we had last time and not be
certified at all to work in this county as paramedics enough
to treat her. "

Marco piped up. "You heard the Sheriff, Johnny. Didn't
he say that Ol Doc Frick's on his way to this lady's
house, too? He said that he had the doc's medical
gear in his car.."

"Yeah," said Mike Stoker. "And that means, he can
be your doctor once he gets there. We can just be
first responders and have things set up for him
ahead of time."

"End of discussion, Gage. Move.." Hank crooked a
thumb towards the door.

The gang piled out onto the porch only to see
a great big cloud of dust the sheriff's car had left
behind in his haste to get to Ender's Pass. His
speeding vehicle up the interstate was nowhere
to be seen.

"Uhh,, " Roy said, scratching his chin. "Ms. Sommers,"
he asked Nicola, "You wouldn't happen to know where
Mrs. Caine lives, do you?"

"I sure do. I visited her a couple of days after her
little boy was attacked in the schoolyard." Nicola
said. "I know the way to her place really well."

Before anyone could ask. Kelly took off running.
"Wait right there. I'll have the rover unhitched 
and up here faster than you can count to twenty!"

The whole gang heard him break branches noisily
as he tore down the path back to the lakeside camp ground,
cutting corners through the hairpin red dirt turns 
weaving into the valley.

"Easy Chet! Don't break a leg ! Stick to the trail!" Cap
hollered after him. "Man, if we haveta haul his butt out
of a ditch somewhere, I'm gonna be really mad." he
said, huffing out his air in frustration when the
commotion in the pines didn't let up as Chet
made his way downhill.

Roy snapped his fingers. "Say, maybe we can call
Mrs. Caine. See how she's doing. I'm assuming there's
a telephone in her bedroom, right?"

Nicola said. "Of course, that's probably how she called 
the sheriff in the first place. I don't see her making it to
the hobby shed's short wave radio in her condition.."

Johnny Gage went all analytical. "So she's close to full
term?"

"Very.." Nicola said rolling her eyes.

"How many children has Mrs. Caine had before now?"
Roy asked as they all piled back into the picturesque
little country cottage. 

"Uh,,, two, I think."  Ms Sommers said. "She had
Jeremy.. the little boy I met last week in the hospital, and
I remember her mentioning that she had to go to town
to get some new shoes for an older daughter. "

Gage sighed, looking at his watch. "That doesn't leave
much time left.."

Nicola was puzzled. "How do you mean, Mr. Gage?"

"A third baby coming to the same mother usually doesn't
wait that long before coming out and surprising everybody."

Nicola's eyes got real big. "Oh..." she said, the concept 
dawning."Well, how long do we have?"

"Anywhere from a couple of hours.." Roy began..

"To a couple of minutes.." Johnny completed.

"Well, why didn't you guys go after Chet to get to
your car?" Nicola said, her voice rising.

"Calm down. Chet's real speedy. He knows 
we have to stay here to call Mrs. Caine.. to 
see how thing's are progressing." Roy said.

"Roy?" Cap asked.

"Yeah?"

"We'll wait for you outside. We gotta glean
some directions out of Ms. Sommers here."
he said taking the chatting woman's arm
as she kept asking questions and giving
opinions about how worried she was about
the current emergency.

He picked up the receiver and dialed out 0 for 
the operator. He immediately got a still flustered
Mable who talked his ear off. "Maam, I don't know
yet. Yes, I'm a stranger ....a paramedic from
Los Angeles County. The sheriff..."he broke off
when the operator's yammering got really loud
and frantic. "...maam, yes...I understand the need
for urgency. So if you could just..connect me up
to Mrs. Caine we can get things going here, all
right?"

Soon, DeSoto's face fell into one of relief when the 
phone against his burning ear fell into person to person
ringing.

Right then a crack of lightning came from the mountains
and the sun disappeared. 

"Wow, storm's brewing.." Lopez said.

"Yeah, they come up real fast." Johnny said to
him. "Well, a little rain never hurt anybody. And
Mrs. Caine's inside a nice warm snug house."
he grinned.

The guys leaped back for the porch overhang 
when a strong bank of rain suddenly whipped out
of the sky and wet the sandy ground in a torrential
sheet.

"Good thing I got radials on the rover.." Johnny
grinned toothily. "We'll get there in no time."

Roy came out of the house. "Well, she says her contractions
are about three minutes apart. She says she's not bleeding
at all or anything like that. But she says something doesn't
feel right inside and she's straining."

Gage grew concerned and his voice matched it.
"You told her not to push, didn't ya?"

"Yeah. I told her. And I told her the sheriff and the
doc, and us, are on the way to her."

Nicola had calmed down, a good rain soaking having 
helped with that. "Who's with her?"

"Nobody.. That's why she called the emergency operator
instead of her midwife or husband. He's in town at
the hospital with the older daughter, looking after little Jeremy."
DeSoto replied. "Mrs. Caine said that Mr. Caine will be
real disappointed if he misses the birth of their third child."

"So will we, Roy, if Chet doesn't hurry it up." Gage
quipped.

--------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Gage insisted on driving his own vehicle after the six of
them, plus Nicola, crammed aboard and they roared in a
raging downpour to Ender's Pass and up the ranch road
leading to Mrs. Caine's house.

There was the sheriff's car. But no red station wagon belonging
to Doc Frick.

"Ok, everyone. Pile out. Let Roy get out first." Johnny
said as everyone jumbled arms legs and torsos around
to free up the paramedic from the land rover.

Johnny got out next, not bothering to set a park brake
and hurried over to Bittner's squad car to see if the
man had remembered to take in Doc Frick's obstetric gear
or not. He had. "Nice.. Guys, let's go. It's all inside."

The five dripping firefighters in summer wear piled into
the warm ranchhouse after Gage.

Roy was already taking a respiration count on Mary
and she was set on O2, high flow. "Hi fellas, meet
Mrs. Caine. She's having a little trouble breathing
but her pulse's good. I haven't done much else yet,
Johnny."

"Hi..boys.. OhhhhHHHHHH! Make it stop!" said the
red haired Mary Caine, sweating and writhing on the bed.
"My first boy and girl never hurt this bad.. Mr. DeSoto, 
tell me, what's wrong with my baby?" she gasped.

"We'll know soon. Just try and pant short breaths
under that oxygen around the contractions. Don't
bear down and we'll get thing's set up to find out,
ok.."

"S...sure..." she panted. But soon, another rippling
screech parted her lips a lot sooner than the original
three minutes projected by phone earlier.

"Uh,...the three of you can wait outside.." said Cap and he
shoo'd the others out of the room, leaving
himself to help Johnny and Roy. He spread out the medical
gear they looked like they needed. ::Santa Rosa
township may have a small town clinic
and a hippy for a doctor, but their emergency medical
gear's top notch. :: he thought.

Gage dragged out the neonate
resuscitation gear and gloved up.
"Mrs. Caine. I'm gonna haveta check you out, ok.?
I'm Roy's partner, Johnny Gage of the Los Angeles
County Fire Department."

The heavily laboring woman just nodded her head, 
beyond any shred of modesty, deep in her pain, "I know.
I ...don't care. Just help me.. Please.. I'm scared for
the baby.."

Johnny draped sheeting around Mrs. Caine's knees
from the O.B. kit Cap handed him and he lowered the
bed's blanket to help get her into a delivery position with
himself sitting her up under the arm pits and Roy supporting
her knees until she was comfortable.

Cap continued to spread sterile sheets from the doctor's
kits around the foot of the bed. He helped Roy into
a pair of gloves when Roy's hands, damp from stroking
Mary's hair, made it hard to do solo.

"Johnny, I got a rate of 134 on Mary. Respirations are 26
and short. Contractions are full duration every minute now."
Roy said calmly, keeping a tight hold around Mrs. Caine's
shoulders. "Cap, take my spot." he said.

Hank did so, adding his quiet reassurances. "I'm a father,
so I know what to expect from a mother with the baby on the
way. Don't worry about breaking my hand squeezing it. I'm
immune."

Mary laughed, blowing out her air in a wavery attempt to smile.
But just as fast. She sucked it up again. "Oh, the baby's coming!"

"Don't push.. Don't push...!" ordered Johnny from Mary's knees.
"Roy, I can't see the baby's head. Only part of the cord,
preceding it." he frowned.

"Prolapse?"

"Yeah... Definitely that."

Roy and Johnny kept the bad discovery from showing on their 
faces. "Ok. Cap, get those pillows under her hips. We have
to raise her pelvis higher than her head."

"You got it." And he helped Roy accomplish it.

Meanwhile, Johnny was telling Mary what was happening.
"Mrs. Caine. Mrs. Caine.Can you hear me? Now, the baby's
getting a little over eager right now trying to be born. The cord's been
pushed out first. That's probably what you were feeling earlier.."

"oh, NnnOooo. How's the baby? Is my baby still alive?"

Johnny gently placed a glove on the shimmering purple,
white and pink cord showing outside and felt no pulsations.
"Mary, I'm gonna see. Now you'll feel a bit of pressure here. 
I'm just gonna check the baby's pulse a bit." he said loudly,
over Mary's moans. Quieter, he added. "Roy get me an O2
line, I'll get an airspace down to the baby's nose and mouth."
And he reached inside the birth canal until he felt the
curvature of the still baby's nose and mouth between
his middle and index fingers. He lifted the baby's head
and immediately, the cord draping across his wrist began
to pulsate. "Mary,.. Mary,.. listen to me. The baby's
fine. I can feel a good pulse. But you can't push and
you can't move around any. I'm keeping the cord from
being crimped off until the doc gets here. Ok.?" Johnny
grunted, sweating.

Mary began sobbing and her eyes suddenly drifted shut
and her breathing silenced. DeSoto grabbed the 
base of her throat. "She's ok. Just fainted. Carotid's
still around 120." and he tightened the oxygen mask
a little more snugly around Mrs. Caine's pale face.
"I'll get a new BP on her and a heart rate on the baby.."
he said putting a stethoscope into his ears.

From somewhere muffled, a telephone in the house
rang. And shortly there after, from the phone next
to the bed. No one had hands free to answer it.

But on the second ring. Someone else in the
house did.

Second snicked by and Cap swallowed, still
clutching the adult ambu bag he had gotten out
from the doc's jumpbag when the mother blacked out. 

Roy smiled. "No problems here. The baby's rate is
148. And her pressure's 110/74. No shock for either
one of them yet."

All three firefighters sighed and Hank sat back
down by Mary's head to test her consciousness.
"Mary, can you hear me?" He pinched her arm 
and got a weak half groan back in response. 

Roy nodded in thanks for Hank's check as he
placed the delivery syringe bulb near Johnny's
free hand where he could reach for it if fluid
pooled over the baby's face. "Any meconium?"

Johnny spoke around the tube in his mouth.
"Not a whole lot. Her amnionic fluid's still fairly
clear." Gage admitted, straining against Mary's
muscles to keep the passage open to the air
for the baby. He had the O2 line in his teeth,
blowing its oxygen stream towards the opening he
had created in Mary's birth canal. "I'm feeling hiccups.
I think the baby's trying to breathe in there."

"Is that working?" DeSoto asked about Johnny's
hold and oxygen.

Right then, Mary began to mumble words and
feel her painful contractions again. 

"Yeah. ..Hey Mary, wake up. Your baby's
doing the Twist in here. A real dancer.." Gage
mumbled.

"That's my girl...." Mary smiled groggily,.."Or
boy... OwwWWWWW." and her muscles jolted
in a tight contraction that she couldn't control.

Johnny felt the space between his fingers and
the baby, close off. The cord went limp and white.
"Mary.. Mary.. Don't! Quit pushing. The cord's
blocking off!"

But Mary was beyond caring in her faint, lost
in her body's reaction.  Cap took control of her
head as she blacked out again, pulling her chin back
so she could keep breathing well.

Johnny tried desperately to regain an open path
but failed.  He withdrew his hand and stood,
lifting Mary's hips higher onto the pillows. He began 
pushing on Mary's lower abdomen gently, firmly around
the contraction, until he felt the baby internally slide 
backwards through Mary's skin. 

The pulse returned into the loop of birthing 
cord that he could see.

He peeled off his now dirty gloves and put on
another sterile pair before he reached in and
regained a hasty path to the outside for the baby 
to breathe in. He no longer felt the tiny hiccups
in the baby's neck. "Baby's quieter Roy. No
movement. But the cord pulse's back."

He nodded getting a new BP on Mary.
"It's down. 90/52. Something's changing."

"Not from here. There's still no blood."

Right then the Sheriff burst through the door
with Nicola, peeking his head through. "I was
in the kitchen. That was the Doc. He's on
his way."  He paled when he saw Mary
lying so silent with sweat covering her features.

"How far away?" Johnny grunted, keeping the
tenuous length of space over the cord so
it wouldn't be sealed off again.

"Stephen's Road." Bittner mumbled, staring in
shock. 

"That's two minutes away.." Nicola added, her
sculpted face equally stunned as Blaine's. "Oh, and
I forgot to tell you, Mary's a diabetic.."

"What?!" Gage said, glancing up at Sommers sharply.

Roy and Johnny and Cap saw a pair of hands drag
the two speechless Santa Rosa citizens back out 
of the bedroom and the door quickly closed shut again.

::That's a little medical history a little too late. Good riddance.
Last thing we need is another pair of fainters. Thank you Marco, 
Mike and Chet.:: Gage thought. "Smell anything on her, Cap?
Any ketosis?"

Hank bent low, lifting the moaning mother's 02 mask 
and he sniffed lightly. "No.. her breath's not sweet."

"Hypoglycemia?" Johnny said looking at Roy.

"Most likely."DeSoto said, looking at Mary's
eyes under a penlight."She's working pretty hard here."

"Yeah, and she's too out to give her any oral glucose
paste. Where's the Doc when you need him?" Gage
said sarcastically, eyeing up all the IV bags and needles
that they presently didn't have the authorization to use.

Roy's hand reached for a bag of Ringer's and tubing, 
and a glucagon syringe. 

"Roy, don't. We can't.. Not yet.."

DeSoto had almost touched them when the bedroom door 
flew open to reveal Doctor Frick himself, covered in blood.

Roy snatched up the bags in a quick report. "Diabetic.
Prolapse on the baby. Fetal heartbeat's up to 170. Hers
is at 140. Real tachy. Her LOC's dropped 4 Glasgow
points and the baby's quit moving.. What happened to you?"
he added, eyeing up the doc's soiled sweatshirt.

Dr. Frick said."IV Ringer's one arm TKO.  500 ml
of an IV D5W on the other at 200 mls an hour
and give her all of that glucagon in a push. Another
little boy got worked over by the pack of feral dogs
Nicola and the Sheriff have been trying to hunt down.
He's gonna live. I got him in the living room being
watched by your firefighter friends out there on
an oxygen tank."

"Feral dogs?" Cap asked. "Is that what we were
hearing last night?" he asked in horror.

"Yes. We've been hearing them every night." Doc Frick
said gloving up rapidly and he kneeled next to Johnny.
"What do you got?" the long haired hippy like
moustached doctor asked Gage.

"Prolapse, four minutes old. Lost a pulse in the
cord once. Felt the baby attempt respirations but
now I can't feel anything. Not one twitch since
that happened about two minutes ago."

"All right. Getting tired? We can trade off. You
can hand me supplies as I need them." said Frick.

Johnny unencumbered and stood back, peeling off
his body fluid slick gloves and trading them
for a third clean pair.

"Ok,.. Both IV's and the glucagon is in, doc.
I've marked down the time and rate on the bags." 
Roy said.

"She's an insulin dependent diabetic, fellas.
Most likely, she skipped lunch for being excited
about this being another birthday. That injection
and the IV's will bring her around shortly."
The doc took his place maintaining the baby's
birth canal and cord integrity. Then he reached in
more fingers. "Got the baby's chin." and he reached
in a tip of a pinky into the baby's mouth. Immediately,
he felt sucking. A huge smile erupted from his face.
"We got ourselves a fighter! Roy, get a new fetal heart
rate for me, would you?"

From the bed came.. "A fighter?. " said Mrs. Caine
weakily as she recovered from her blackout. "I thought
you said my baby was a dancer.." she smiled..

"Yeah well one's just as good as the other.."
Johnny smiled right back at her. "Feel like some
pushing? The doc's here."

"Oh, is he?" Mary asked around Cap's hands
cradling her face to help her breathe easier.
"Anytime. I wanna surprise Jack when he gets...
owwWWW."

Roy announced. "Doc, the rate's 220 on the baby." 
he said urgently.

"Here we go.." Doc Frick said, gently pulling as
the baby's head advanced, until it had emerged
into the open to the neck. Johnny rapidly suctioned
out the tiny baby's nose and mouth with the bulb.

The doc pulled another loop of cord he discovered
from around the baby's neck with a couple of fingers. 
He frowned when he didn't find it beating. 

"Roy, there's nothing now." he whispered without
sound about a pulse rate. Then aloud he said.
"Mary..pant now and don't push anymore.. We have to 
let the baby's head rotate around for delivery. Won't take 
long."

"....*gasp*...kay.. Just say ......when.." she groaned.

A minute went by before another powerful contraction
spun Mary's child into the proper position. Frick's eyes
jerked over to the resuscitation gear and then at Roy in
a subtle hint to get ready for some new trouble.

DeSoto rose and got things ready.

The baby's face had turned blue.

"Ok, Mary. Push.. Push as hard as you can!" Frick
urged. Cap let Mrs. Caine use his chest as a support
and he held her up as she strained one last time in
a supreme effort to finish the job.

The baby's shoulders came easily with a lift and shove
from side to side by the doctor. The baby's limp body
slid out of Mary in a rush of fluid onto the bed. "It's a boy
Mary! Nice job.." Johnny said, forcing a smile onto his face.

"How is he?" she panted. "Can I see him?" she said
through her O2 mask as Cap eased her back down onto
her back.

Again there was more suctioning. Gage quickly threaded
in an infant airway as Roy attached a neonate ambu bag to the
end of it.  They both clamped off the cord with two clips as
the doc checked for a baby's pulse quickly with a stethoscope.


"Got one." Frick said at last.
"He needs only those vents. Turn the O2 to 100%
and hyperventilate him until he pinks up Roy.  I think 
your son only needs a little brisk encouragement, Mrs. Caine.
Give us a minute to cut the cord." Frick said."What's your new
son's name gonna be, Mary?"

"Darren. Darren Joseph Caine." she sighed.

"That's a wonderful name. Same first name as my grandfather's."
he said, snipping the cord in two between the clamps. 
"Now, how  are you feeling? Your blood sugar got a little low there
at the end."

"Perfect.." Mary said muzzily, drifting into a happy sleep.

"Well so is he..." Hank grinned. "He's got all his fingers and toes
so rest easy. We'll stay to watch over you until the ambulance
arrives."

Tiny puffs of Roy's pure oxygen into Darren's lungs from the ambu 
finally drove away the deep blue from the baby's face, trunk
and limbs. He actively began to thrash his arms and
legs, gurgling, entirely flushed a healthy reddish pink.

Doc Frick tugged out the airway and drained Darren's
lungs of their remaining fluids. Soon, the baby's back was slapped 
as he hung by the ankles and that brought a thin powerful cry
out the gaping mouth. "That's more like it. Apgar 2 to
a 10. Welcome to Santa Rosa County, Darren Joseph."

And the baby wailed anew when a great peal of thunder 
crashed just outside the Caine house as he was laid
across his mother's breast in a cocoon of warm white
blankets.

------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Photo : A birth fresh baby, still coated.

Photo: A passed out pregnant mother being tended.

Photo: Roy and Johnny delivering a child.

Photo: New baby on mom's chest.

*******************************************************************
From :  patti keiper <pattik1@hotmail.com> 
Sent :  Saturday, June 26, 2004 2:17 AM 
Subject :  Guess Who's Coming For Dinner? 


Sheriff Bittner was on the phone again, trying to
get an ETA of the ambulance long overdue to arrive at
the Caine house.  His voice was growing in volume and frustration
when he learned from Mable the switch board operator, that
the storm warning had elevated to flash flood warning. "I don't
care WHAT it takes to get them here, Mable. Just do it.
I have a badly injured child now that the doc brought in 
as well as Mary and soon, her new baby, and they can't be delayed!
No sirree. Now get on it and call when you get through to
them.".. his pudgy flushed cheek twitched when he got
another wail of panic from Mable. Blaine toned down his voice
to a quiet calm level and he added."Maybe you can call up one of those 
new fangled helibirds from the southern counties to make a flight up here 
when the weather clears. Now I've got to go. The doc and
the good fire boys who came with us need me. Do the best you
can." and he clicked the phone down onto its receiver.

-------------------------------------------

Out in the living room, Chet Kelly, Marco 
Lopez, Mike Stoker and the resort owner Nicola Sommers were
all clustered around the small boy that Dr. Frick had entrusted to 
their care. 

He was stretched out on the couch on his back and his arms and 
neck were liberally wrapped in ace wraps and kerlix. Kelly was making 
sure that the oxygen he wore still flowed from the small tank at his feet. 
Marco was busy wrapping the rain soaked boy snuggly in afghans.
Stoker was taking a pulse on the boy while he slept with his father seated 
by his head.
 
The man was upset and talking, twisting the hem of the quilt covering
his son in barely contained anger. "I told Aaron not to go to the
swimming hole until the Sheriff said those pack dogs were all trapped and
killed. He knows better! As soon as the storm breaks, I swear to
G*d that I'm going to go out and put a bullet between the eyes of every 
snarling mongrel I run into. Look what they've done to him!" he 
cried.

Nicola rose from her crouch. She had been making sure that Aaron's
pressure dressings were still tight and controlling his bleeding.
"Mr. Johnson, calm down. Now I made a promise to this town and to the 
Sheriff that I'd do everything possible to make these woods safe again 
for our kids. And I absolutely mean to do that. But a hunt of this size takes
time, .." she said empathetically spreading her hands wide, "...resources.."
We're going to have to do it Bittner's way or soon there will be more than
just our town's children getting maimed out there. Stealth is the answer,
Nate, quiet stealth. These are DOGS going wild out there, not wolves or
coyotes! They most likely KNOW about people and how to avoid
traditional hunters."

"Yeah? Well that's not good enough Ms. Sommers.. Just how many
little boys have to get shredded like my son here to prove to you
and Blaine that this little domestic wildlife problem's a little more than  
just an isolated incident?!" said the angry father.

There came a moan from the couch. "Daddy?.." said Aaron sleepily.
"Are ..are they really gone? I'm so scared.." and the boy started
crying. "My arms and neck hurt so bad." he sobbed.

Nate Johnson leaned down and cradled his eight year old son and
kissed his forehead. "Shhh. Easy Aaron. The doc will be right out
to give you medicine to make that pain go away. I promise, but right
now he's a little busy with...."

A slap and then the cry of a baby came through the bedroom door that
everyone could hear audibly.. Smack! " Wahhh....*gasp*  WahhhHHHHhh!"

"Now that's more like it..." celebrated Sheriff Bittner as he returned
to the living room. "I tell you the Caines always have fine strong
children when they have a mind to.. Hehe." he chuckled.

Everyone's faces lit up with joyful smiles. Included Mr. Johnson's.
"Do you hear that son? Mary's baby's finally here. Just think. In
a few days, we can invite the Caines over for dinner and ..and 
then you can get start to get to know another future playmate. 
How does that sound?"

But Aaron was beyond consoling. His terror from the feral dog 
attack was still very fresh in his mind. He didn't open his eyes
and he began to tremble. Marco Lopez rose to start a fire
in the Caine's wood stove.

Nate stroked his son's forehead and didn't care when the rain
water from his hair mingled with his tears as he let loose
all his emotions quietly.

Bittner observed Nate and silently motioned to Nicola to join
him at his side. She did, grabbing a sweater and
jeans to slide on over her skirt and plaid top that
she had grabbed from her hastily snatched backpack on the 
way into the house earlier. Blaine's face was grave. 
"The ambulance might be delayed. Now we're gonna haveta 
figure out a way to get all these folks outta here and into town 
so the boy can get the surgery the doc says he'll need
to repair his injuries."

"Sheriff, just how bad is the weather out there?" she
asked softly.

"Bad enough. The valley lowlands are most likely to be flooded 
out. Probably already are. Mable mentioned warnings of the type."

Nicola threw her head up in frustration after pulling on
the thick woolen sweater over her head. "If only we were
at my resort. I've plenty of survival gear and a solid Power Wagon."

Blaine chuckled. "That's my girl. That's why you make such a
good sworn deputy. Always the provider.."

"Well, I'm not providing enough. Blaine, the boy's border line
shocky according to what we've found. If the doc medicates
him, he's not going to be in any shape to go anywhere." she
confessed.

A new voice spoke up from the living room door. "He'll be ready,
Ms. Sommers. " said a newly shirt changed Doc Frick. "I'm
going to start an IV on Aaron right now since my first priority's
been taken care of.. It's a boy..." he said aloud to the room.

Again smiles and celebration filled the air.

"How's he doing?" asked Sheriff Bittner with undisguised glee.

"Terrific. He's a big strapping example of the solid Caine family line."
Frick said proudly." I wouldn't be surprised if he tips the scale
at over nine pounds when we finally get a chance to weigh him."

"Mary?" Nicola asked.

"No complications. At least not birth wise. She became hypoglycemic
because of all of her labor but a good hot meal should take care of that."
Frick admitted. 

"Looks like I'll get a chance to fix one, Doc. We may be stranded. The
storm's gonna flood the area up to our eyeballs.." Ms. Sommers said
dryly.

The doctor's face fell into concern. "Really? I thought this was just
a little downpour."

"Of biblical proportions according to Mable.." Blaine huffed.

"Ok.. uh... I'll get started making Aaron more comfortable right now."
Frick said, scratching his hippy beard absently.

Johnny Gage and Cap quietly crept out of the bedroom and closed
the door behind them.

"I'll go get dinner on." Nicola said, eyeing up the black iron stove
and antique kitchette across the room where they stood.

"I'll help." Stoker volunteered. "Doc, his pulse's been in the 120's
the last few minutes. But that might be because he's still upset."

"Thanks,..uh.."

"Stoker. Fireman Mike Stoker. Nice to finally meet you. Gage
and DeSoto have told me all about you.." he said secretly,
with a wink and he took Doc Frick's hand up in greeting
for a second before joining Nicola huddled inside the frig.

Doc blinked briefly."Looks like my reputation's preceded
myself again I guess. I'll be glad to tell you the REAL stories
Mr. Stoker. Later. Just to set the records straight."

Gage paced over to the Doc's side. "Do you want me 
to start Aaron's IV? Roy says Mary's just about delivered
the baby's placenta."

"Yeah, go ahead. I'll go draw up his Versed for an IV push.
It'll be better than MS if we're going to be packing it out
of here."

"We are?" Johnny startled.

"Yeah..Flashflood's due any hour now. The roads might
wash out before the ambulance gets here." Frick said, with 
resignation.

"Marvelous.. Now I know why I moved to L.A." Gage admitted.

"Why, because of those wonderful ripping Santa Ana
winds you guys suffer every summer?" Frick asked wryly.

"No, because of the lack of Noah's flood coming every spring
like it seems to do up here." Johnny rejoined.

Hank Stanley couldn't help but overhear. He frowned.
Then he turned and got the other firemen's attentions.
"Gang. Go turn the rover around and unload all 
the camp gear we got in it. That'll be our
backup ambulance if they aren't here within the hour."
 
"Right, Cap." Marco said, motioning to Kelly go
come with him for a fast dash outside to get
the white vehicle set for travel. Then he turned to
the doctor. "Will the baby be all right in all this
rain?"

"He'll be fine. We can offset any further breathing
trouble he might have by making an incubator out
of a dresser drawer and a dry cleaner's plastic bag
with an O2 tank. Roy's keeping tabs on his 
condition while Mary finishes up with the afterbirth."

"Want that too?" Gage piped up.

"Yeah, it'll make Mary's ob gyn exam later easier.
I want to make sure she's got through delivery as well 
as I think she did."

"ok, I'll take care of it after I get to Aaron."

"Good deal." Cap said.

Hank waited by the door until a soaking Kelly
and Lopez returned from outside.

"Man, it's raining torrents now." Chet said, 
shaking off rivers of water from a raincoat he
had thrown on from the rover. "Johnny I brought
this coat and your spare for Mary and Aaron if
we need em getting out to the truck and we
parked it at the head of the driveway."

"Thanks, Kelly." Johnny said, hanging up the
I.V. he had begun on the dozing boy onto the
edge of a lampshade above his head. "Doc,
all set for ya."

Doc Frick kneeled to give the boy the medication.
"Nate. This isn't a sedative. This will simply help
Aaron,....not remember his discomfort as soon
as he feels it."

"Thanks, Doc. I appreciate it." Mr. Johnson said.
His eyes were dry and he was calmer now that
a plan of action had been formulated.

"Gage." Frick said.

"Yeah."

"Mark down.." and he looked at his watch.
".03 mgs Versed into that D5W at 16:09 hours.
After his drip runs in an initial 20cc's bolus,  
turn it TKO. He only lost around 300 cc's blood
from his bites before I bound them up. None had 
arterial damage. Have a Ringer's on standby piggy back
if his pressure drops below 80 systolic. No need
for a survey. I already know his history."

"Right." Johnny said, using one of his green pens
that never left his side. He grinned at the luxury
of having a live doctor at hand instead of just a voice
on a phone. "You'll be fine, Aaron. Just give that
medication a chance to work it's magic." he
said to the child.

Aaron Johnson sighed in his sleep and rolled over
a little deeper into his pile of blankets. Nate began to snore, 
too, from where his head drooped onto his chest in an armchair.

Gage rose and began to pack up all the
sheriff's medical gear to take with them.
::I sure hope we don't have to rely on that
ambulance. The rover's far far better at roughing it.::

The thunder booming around them began to recede,
with a drenching solid rain taking its place. Nothing could
be seen outside the windows.

Then the sounds of howls and clicking, pacing claws 
on the wood walkboards outside the house, began.

"Oh, no.." Nicola said from where she froze by the stove.
A snarling doberman was glaring at her through the window.
"Looks like we have company for dinner."

------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Photo :   Roy, Chet in vacation clothes.

Photo : Roy with a neck injured boy.

Photo : Nicola in a maroon blouse, whirling in fright.

Photo: A small cabin kitchen and window.

Photo: A lunging Doberman, raving made, peering
          over a wooden fence.
 
****************************************************************
Date: Sat, 26 Jun 2004 16:03:54 -0700 (PDT) 
From: "Sam Iam" <lafddispatcher@yahoo.com>  
Subject:  Tooth and Nail 
 

"Dag nabbed varmit!" shouted Sheriff Bittner angrily.
"I knew I should have shot the blood hound in
the pack when I had the chance! "

Nate Johnson sat bolt upright in his chair, wrenched
from sleep from a dog's impact on the wall
behind his head. "Aghh! Aaron?" He was horrified by the 
snarling dogs milling around outside. The man picked up
a fire place poker to stand over his son nervously.

Nicola addressed Blaine's comment. "How do you mean?
Why didn't you?"

"I wasn't sure if he was Elmer Rackett's dog sent out
to work out a quail that night or not. I couldn't tell. It was too dark."

That disturbed the whole gang. Even Roy came out
of the bedroom, pulling the door open from where
Mary was nursing her newborn baby. He was immediately
drawn by the look of remorseful regret on the sheriff's face.

"Blood hounds never lose a scent. They've tracked the
boy here." Sheriff Bittner said, drawing out his pistol.

Sure enough, the dogs excited barking was punctuated
with the baying of a coon hound announcing that
he was locked on.

"That one must be the alpha male now." Nicola said.
"I shot the old alpha, a pitbull, who attacked the first town boy, 
a few days ago." Her face twisted in anxiety. "I..I..thought our
problems were ended after I did that. Feral packs always
disband and die off once they lose their leader. They
don't have the same survival instincts to save themselves 
like wolves do."  Her eyes fell on Aaron, lying awake now,
and terrified under his oxygen mask. "I'm so sorry.."
Ms. Sommers whispered, tears filling her eyes.

Nate Johnson rose nervously and immediately went to the
woman's side. "It's not your fault. No one could have predicted
this." and he caressed her arm in forgiveness.

Roy hushed Mary with a gesture when she began to
ask a question. "Cap. What's going on?"

"Remember that lovely chorus of supposed coyotes we were
serenaded by last night?" Hank asked wryly.

"Yeah. They ruined all of our sleeping."

"They weren't harmless coyotes. They're dogs gone
wild. Little Aaron here was their latest target. And
now they're here to try and finish the job." Cap said
low and tense.

"Not if I can help it." Bittner said from where he was
watching the door. "We've got protection." and he hefted
his gun.

Nicola scoffed, rubbing chilled arms around herself, through
her sweater. "Oh, please.. with six bullets? We don't know
how many of them are out there."

"Easy way to find out." Chet Kelly piped up. He turned
towards the bedroom where Mrs. Caine lay on her bed.
"Excuse me, maam?" he asked from where he could
see her. He dipped his head. "Uh, congratulations about
the baby." he broke off, uncomfortable with bothering
the exhausted new mother.

Mrs. Caine nodded, encouraging him to go on with
his question even as she hugged Darren to herself  
tighter as her fear grew.

"Do you have an attic upstairs?" Chet went on.

"Yes."

"May we go up there to look around?" he asked.

"You don't have to ask me for anything, sir.
Do what you must. Keep my baby safe." she
sobbed.

Kelly turned to Cap, who still hadn't put two and two together
yet. "We can open the upper story window and get
on the roof to see how many there are. I know there's one
over the half roof because I saw it when we got here. 
Maybe we can even secure the sheriff out there with ropes 
so he can shoot down a couple. Might scare the rest off."

"Bound to be slippery." Cap said.

"I'm willin to risk it." Blaine replied instantly.

Hank angled his jaw, nodding the more and more
he mulled it over. Then the rising din coming from
the scratching, digging, hunting pack made up his
mind for him. "Lopez help the Doc get Mary and Aaron set to
move. Gage, Stoker, Kelly, come with me and we'll get things
started in the attic. We don't want them still out there
when those ambulance attendants arrive. In fact, we're
no longer gonna wait. Bittner can radio town to cancel the call.
We'll take them out ourselves. It's too dangerous
here now with those animals and all the localized flooding 
going on."

"Right." they answered.

The five men ran up the wooden stairs as fast as
they could go with the sheriff hastily loading his gun.

"Nicola? Would you get the baby into that drawer incubator
the doc talked about.." Gage said as he rushed after
Cap.

"I sure will." she said, untying her apron and turning off
the stove. She hurried into the bedroom to join Roy
at Mrs. Caine's side. "I know my way around medical gear so
maybe I can help out that way, too." she told DeSoto.

Roy nodded. "Now, first things first. We have to get
both of them in as many warm clothes as possible."

Doctor Frick did likewise with his patients in the
living room to get ready to flee with Aaron and Mr. Johnson. 

---------------------------------------------------------------------------------

"Easy now! We got ya.." Gage grunted as he, Cap, Kelly
and Stoker hung onto the makeshift line holding the sheriff
fast on his feet on the rain streaming roof. The sheriff was
soaked and bedraggled but his aiming eye was true.

He soon ended the life of the questing blood hound in
a second. The gang winced at the yelp that echoed up
to them. Bittner's face was grim. "I got five shots left.
Let me watch them for a while to figure out who are
the aggressive leader types. If I get them, the rest'll run."

Hank nodded. "Take your time. We can hold you all day."

"I know ya can.." Bittner said with confidence and an
undisguised affection for the firefighters. "I've read all
about the kind of training you guys do down in the big city."

The gang watched, uneasy, as the sheriff started assessing
the pack's members. "See that greyhound? She big, but shy.
Her tail's down. She's a follower. Now that German Shepard,
he's been wild a while, his coat's full of burrs and it's patchy
from a fire. Hasn't been one here since last winter. The huskies
are new. They're still wearing their collars. They're no threat and
just along for the game. Probably joined up with the rest of them
this morning. Now there's one. See her boys? That great big 
black dane's rallying them."

He began to squeeze the trigger with the snarling dog in his
sites who had locked eyes on him. A mat of shingle moss gave way
under Bittner's right foot and he went down, his shot going wild,
and he skidded over the edge of the roof. The milling dogs converged
into a knot, racing to where he was falling.

The gang flattened when the bullet bit a chunk of wood frame
inches away from their heads. Kelly yelped, "Don't drop him!"
And they strained to get back onto their feet. Lopez and Stoker
were the first to stand and get the rope wrapping firmly around
their wrists again to arrest Blaine's slide off the roof.

Bittner's hat fell off and hit the muddy ground below. It was
immediately torn apart by the dogs.

Cap called out. "Sheriff, are you all right down there?!"

"Yeah.. Get me up. I still got my gun!  Ahh!" he said as
the Great Dane leaped up and tore one of his pants legs.
"And be quick about it! They're reaching my legs!"

With concerted effort the four firefighters inched up Bittner's
soggy bulk, hand over sweaty hand, until the lawman could 
throw a leg up over the gutter and crawl back onto his hands 
and knees onto the rain streaked cedar shingles.

Thinking a moment, the sheriff threw his line around
the base of the brick chimney for leverage in case he slipped
again.

"You hurt at all?" Hank hollered.

Blaine wiped rain out of his face and ran fingers through
his hair to get it out of his eyes. He looked down at
his shredded pants leg. "Nah." Then he drew out the gun
from his holster again. "I anchored myself round the 
chimney. You boys got some purchase now. Hold me fast!"

And he aimed with great deliberation over a forearm.

Bang! Chinggg..... a bullet riccocheted off Doc Frick's
red station wagon and impacted dead center into the 
black dog's ribcage. The Dane leaped up, bit her side
and then he fell down into a heap and didn't 
move again. "Got you you little piece of Cain.." he whispered
with a tight grin.

"Four left sheriff.." Chet called from the window.

Blaine's sense of irony struck him and he glanced
back at the curly haired fireman with a wave. "I know.
I know young man. Thanks for keeping track.." he joked.

An emaciated Doberman looked up from the hat he
had just urinated on. He connected with Bittner's eyes
and began to growl low in his throat.

Blaine didn't break eye contact. "Sorry I gotta do this
fella. That kind of behavior's just too rude for me. 
You're next in line.." And another shot snuffed out the 
pack member's sad fated life.

Yelping, the others broke and ran around the house
away from Blaine when the Doberman died but
a German Shepard remained behind, standing guard over
her mate's carcass. She, too, growled a warning at the 
man on the roof, her white teeth dripping. 

Sheriff Bittner took careful aim.....

------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
Roy was just finishing getting the baby into the dresser
drawer resting on the bed, fussing with the oxygen tubing
under the plastic in with the baby, when Mary suddenly
screamed from where she was standing with Marco's help
by the foot of the bed.

A creamy white body burst through the bedroom window in
a shower of glass and water.

The growling filthy dog, knocked the new mother to the carpetting,
attracted by the scent of blood and body fluid on her skin.

Roy snatched up the baby's drawer and tossed it heavily to Marco,
who caught it with blind luck and backed slowly out
of the room. "Mary, don't move!" DeSoto said, spreading his 
arms wide to stave off the dog's growing idea to chase after Lopez.

Mary trembled but lay still on the rug. She flinched when
the growling dog sniffed at her waist and set a paw on her. The whole
time, the dog kept his eyes locked on Roy, who was the only
real threat in the room.

Sniffing, the dog's attention wavered when it smelled the
afterbirth inside a white plastic bag set on the floor. 

There was a sharp recoil of yellow and orange and a puff of
gun powder and the white dog flew backwards into the
wall, dying.

Nicola Sommers stood in the doorway, feet planted apart,
with a gun firmly gripped into both of her hands. She didn't
stop pointing the gun until a book thrown at the curr failed
to rouse it. Then she saw Roy and Mary's frozen looks.
"Nice ranch house. Guns in every corner." she remarked.

Roy unlocked his muscles and knelt by Mary's side when
the woman began to sob uncontrollably from where she
lay on the floor. "Mary, are you all right? Did you hit your
head? Are you hurt anywhere?" 

Mrs. Caine didn't answer, lost in a hysterical outburst of relief.

Doctor Frick and Marco Lopez peeked through the door. 
"Did she get it?"

"Yeah," Roy said, sitting Mrs. Caine up and hugging her
to his chest to calm her down even as he took a pulse at
her wrist. "I think she's ok, too. The dog didn't have time
to bite her." He checked Mrs. Caine's I.V. It was all right
and still running.

"Glad I was watching you, Roy. The baby's upset but the Doc
found no bumps or bruises." Marco said. "Darren's ok, Mary.
Nate's watching him in the living room. He's ok."

Mrs. Caine just sobbed weakily, letting her arms hang limply
by her sides as Roy picked her up into an arm carry out of the
room. "Let's get her out of here. And close that door Marco.
The dog might still be alive."

"I doubt that.." Nicola quipped, rechecking how many shots
she had left in the antique revolver she had found. 

Four shots from upstairs rang out in regular deliberation
faintly. Then it was quiet. Soon the others returned down
the stairs, out of breath and sweating.

Doc Frick saw Bittner's leg and greeted the sheriff with
a warm blanket which he placed around his shoulders.
"What in h*ll did you just do, Blaine. I told you no
heroics with that angina you got.. Come over 
here and sit down!" he said angrily.

Meekly, the dripping sheriff did so. 

"Now open your shirt.." Frick ordered, slipping on a stethoscope.
"How do you feel?"

"Terrific. The worst of them are all dead. And the others
won't be coming back."

"Shh!!" Frick hissed, listening to Blaine's chest.

Chet Kelly's eyes got huge. "You mean we let a man with
a bad heart hang from the roof just now?" 

"Shhh!" Cap shushed. "Let the doc get in his exam."

"It was all my idea. You're free and clear young man.." 
Blaine said as he struggled to slow down his breathing
rate. He was smiling but then his face twisted into one
of pain as his hand absently gripped his gray maned chest.

"Hmm.. thought you could fool me, huh.." Frick said, reaching
into his pocket. He pulled out a bottle of nitro pills and he dug
out one. "Here.. Melt this under your tongue.. Gage, could
you get a pressure on him. We'll see if he needs a second once
after we get our initial BP."

"Sure, Doc. uh... Is he ok?"

"Blaine here? Oh, yeah. He's fine. Did his open heart surgery myself. 
A quadruple bypass. He's unlikely to have another M.I anytime soon. 
That is, if he ever stops thinking he's some kind of Superman. 
That was a really stupid stunt you just pulled on these boys mister
lawman."

"Sue me old bones. Those feral dogs aren't ever gonna seige anyone
else ever again." Sheriff smiled closing his eyes as Stoker set him on 
some oxygen. "All thanks ta me."

"And me.." Nicola glared with mock outrage. "What an ego.
Geesh.." and she crossed her arms together tapping a leather
booted toe on the rug.

"Ok. ok.. I'll give Annie Oakley over there some credit, too. She 
killed the original alpha male, a big rottweiler, when it dragged down
a prize steer last autumn at the Fair Grounds. That's how we
found out about the whole sorry feral dog mess in the first place."

Roy said. "Chalk up one more point for Nicola, Sheriff."

"Huh? What for?"

"She took out one that came through the window at us
in the bedroom."

"It was the cream, Blaine. I told you he was brains behind 
the whole pack. He leaped through the glass and got inside
to get at us just like I said he might do."

"Ooo. well, ok.. You called me on that particular
nasty brand of dog, too. I stand corrected."

"And I'm grateful to BOTH of you." Mary said quietly from her 
arm chair where Marco sat with her. "You get better and recover
fast, Blaine. You've got a christening to go to." she scolded.

"Thank you, Mary.." the sheriff said instantly, cowed.

Gage sat back from where he had taken the sheriff's
blood pressure. "That nitroglycerin lowered his pressure
a little bit. What is it usually?"

"140/98." said doctor and patient simultaneously.

"Well it's twenty millimeters mercury lower than that now.."
Johnny grinned.

"Fine. Blaine, have a second pill. You're still clenching
your teeth." Frick fussed. "Come on now, open wide."

"Aw, Doc. I hate the taste of those things."

"They're better than baby aspirin." Gage quipped.
"Those'll be next if your angina doesn't settle down."

"Nope. Ain't gonna."
Bittner grumbled, shaking his head and fighting 
the doc's attempts to put the pill into his mouth.

Roy smiled. "Say, doc. Got an EKG/Defibrillator 
in that red station wagon of yours? Maybe we
can jolt him into compliance."

Frick rolled his eyes. " I don't think we need it. He's just
being mule headed. I can wait a little longer." he said
parking the pill onto a napkin in his hand so that it wouldn't
start effecting him. "His pulse is very regular. And it'll stay
that way if he stops carrying on like a crazed maniac
at every little crisis cropping up in and out of town."

"Doc, I'm the sheriff!" Blaine protested.

"Who's got a sworn deputy who's so bored for
something to do, that she's redesigning a resort
into a bed and breakfast. Come on. You're sixty nine
years old. And I've already ordered you medically to start
easing off the job responsibilities. Try another little cack handed
stunt like ya did on the roof just now and I swear I'll
turn a report into the Board tendering a request for your
early retirement.." the doctor warned.

"You wouldn't dare.."

"Just watch me.." Frick said without looking away or
lowering his finger.

"Hey,, Blaine. Go ahead and do something stupid.
I kind of like the sound of my future title. Sheriff 
Nicola Sommers. It's got a nice ring to it."

Blaine stuck a tongue out at Nicola.
And Doc Frick immediately tossed in the second nitro pill.

"There's a good boy. Now stay quiet for
ten minutes. Thanks Nicola. That little
schtick works every time."

"Nothing like a man with an overblown pride for his profession."
the young woman grinned toothily.

Blaine's face screwed up at the bitter taste
in his mouth. But he obeyed and didn't say
anything else as he dissolved it and swallowed.

Hank tapped the Doc on the shoulder. "So he's stable.." 

"As a rock. All of this is just precautionary." said Frick
absently of Blaine's oxygen and the nitro pill bottle he
had in his hand.

"Ok. We'll leave when he's pain free again, splitting
up into the three cars. Mr. Johnson's just agreed to help 
get Aaron into the hospital using his vehicle."

"And I got the extra hand held radios we'll use."
Sheriff said, raising a finger, in addition.

"Sweet." Frick said. "Thanks Nate. So the Porsche'll
get a little muddy. So what? It's for a good cause."

"Speaking of cars getting messed, there's a new bullet hole in 
your car, Doctor Frick." Chet said. Mike Stoker slapped him
on the arm for his bold line.

But the Doctor was unsurprised. "Oh, another one? It's not
the first time, boys. The ding'll just add more character.
If it got on target bouncing off my fender, all is fine with me. "

"It did. The head b*tch went down without a hitch."
Blaine nodded.

"Hey, did he just swear a curse word?"
said little Aaron. "Dad, we should tell ol Mable on him."
She'll wash his mouth out with soap for sure."
And the tiny boy started laughing hysterically.

"That the Versed talking?" Nate asked Roy.

"Uh huh.." said DeSoto, burying a chin into his hand.
"Don't worry. It'll wear off in a little bit."

---------------------------------------------------------------------

Twenty minutes later, the three laden cars slowly
made their way onto the highway almost invisible
under a flowing sheet of rainwater.

------------------------------------------------------------------------

Photo : A dog snarling over a woman's stomach.

Photo: Roy hefting a child to safety.

Photo: Dead dog in front of a truck.

Photo: A woman with a gun.

Photo: Land rover driving through flood waters.

Photo: An old man on a nasal cannula.

******************************************************************
From:  "Cassidy Meyers" <killashandraRey@hotmail.com> 
Date:  Wed Jun 30, 2004  3:41 pm 
Subject:  Let the River Run..
 

"Geez," said Chet at one particular deep section
of water lying across the road. "I hope they know
where they're going up there." he bemoaned to his coworkers
in the land rover about the silver porsche in front of
their three car convoy. They were last in line, following
Frick's eccentric red wagon. Johnny didn't say anything, 
thoroughly concentrating on the road ahead of them. 
Already, it was barely visible in the building rain and darkness
surrounding them.

Marco still clutched the handy talkie that was one of three
that linked Nate's silver porsche, Doc Frick's red
station wagon and Gage's truck all together. 
"Johnny, Roy says that the baby, Aaron and Mary
are doing just fine. He's already gotten permission from Doc 
Frick to discontinue the two I.V.'s on the boy and the mother."

"Thanks." Gage replied, not moving his eyes from
the car in front.

Cap sighed, keeping his eye as well on the red fender of
the station wagon Frick was driving. The doc had Sheriff
Bittner as a passenger so he could keep an eye on
his heart pain.  "Nate Johnson said that he knew the high 
places to travel during storms like this. We're just going 
to have to trust him to know what he's doing men. If
you think about it, only a local would know their way 
around these parts come nightfall."

"Doesn't mean I have to be comfortable with it." Kelly
grumbled. "You should've sat with them, Cap."

"Not my place to. The Sheriff's in charge of this rescue
operation. Whether we like it or not, we're just along for
the ride." Hank added, rubbing his damp nose.

Mike Stoker gripped Cap's seat back and said.
"Let's just hope we make town as soon as possible.
I don't like the look of the mountainside to our left. 
Last sign we passed said  'Danger, Rockfall.' "

"You're a bundle of comfort, Stoker. That's my side
of the car." Kelly quipped, sinking down into his seat 
a little lower under his rain gear.

"Better than my side near the drop off." Mike replied 
cheekily.

Gage said loudly,, "Hang on!" and he swerved the
five firefighter's rover around a fallen tree trunk.

Chet hit his head. "Owww! Gage. Watch it!"

"I AM watchin it. " Johnny panted.  "Just shut up and 
let me drive or maybe you'd like to do this instead?" 
Gage glared into the rear view mirror. 

"Cut it out you, two." Cap ordered. "Kelly, he's doing
fine so hush. Make yourself busy with reading a map
or something if you're bored."

"I'm not bored.." Chet parroted. "Lopez, did I say
I was bored?"

"Not exactly, but you're a little too fidgety for my liking." 
admitted the spanish fireman.

"Thanks alot, amigo, same to you. If you roll down
that window one more time checking to see how
hard it's still raining I'm gonna--"

"Do nothing, Chet. And I mean now..!" Hank snarled.

All the men crowded in Johnny's muddy rover piped
down. They knew when they had crossed a line
when they heard that voice from Hank, on or off duty.

"Thanks, Cap. Now maybe I can avoid obstacles a little
easier.." Johnny huffed. "Is his head ok?" he asked
of Kelly.

"Right as it's ever gonna be." Hank admitted, still 
pinning Chet into vocal silence with his glare. 

"Ok. Just asking.." Johnny said, missing the joke
entirely as he fought road and water.
"Just passed a sign giving mileage distances.
Looks like we've only got nine left to go before
we hit town."

--------------------------------------------------------------

Roy continually checked with Mary Caine and
her new baby still inside the improvised dresser
drawer incubator sitting on Nicola's knees. He had
little Aaron in his lap where his body heat
could keep the child warm and away from the
chilled seat leather of his father's Porsche. 

"We've only one bridge crossing to go, Mr.
DeSoto, then we'll gain some elevation
away from all this flash flooding." Mr. Johnson
said as he gripped his cow skin wrapped steering 
wheel.

Roy nodded.

Nicola drew her wool sweater around her shoulders
a little closer about herself as night fell. There
wasn't another set of headlights anywhere on
the mountain above them that she could see.
"Do you think they've already evacuated the
valley's highway because of the warning? I'm
not seeing anybody out there."

"Check with the sheriff. He said Doctor Frick's
got a CB radio in his car that can link with the weather
station." Roy replied, handing Ms. Sommers the
police HT he had used earlier to talk to Lopez 
and the Doc.

Nicola palmed the radio, and hailed. "Sheriff, got
your ears on?"

##Yep. As if I'd EVER not have them tuned in, little lady.##
he answered back from the red station wagon behind
Nate's car. Despite some stress, his voice still sounded
cheerful to Nicola over the walkie talkie.

"How're the roads on the broadcast radio, Bittner? 
The way ahead looks deserted to us on the higher 
grades." she asked.

##They are. Just got word from Mable. No driving
is advised. People who were stuck in town are taking 
shelter at the hospital to wait it out.##

"So they know we're coming?" Nicola asked double checking.

##Absolutely. The fire department's waiting on the outskirts, 
set for an intercept. They'll be the manpower we'll need
to switch out our patient transport vehicles. I've ordered both 
ambulances to report, too.##

"Ok, Nicola out." and she released the talk button.
She tapped Nate on the shoulder across the driver's
seat. He turned his head. "Just us out here. You
won't have to worry about people coming down 
the mountain at us, Nate. Blaine's just confirmed it."

"Great. Clear sailing. Did you hear that, son?" he said. 

"Mmmm.." Aaron mumbled sleepily.

-----------------------------------------------------------------------

The river between the mountain and the town
was an angry morass of brown and froth. It
lapped at the foot of the bridge span hungrily
as it spun shattered debris and trees against
the girders.

Nate Johnson slowed his acceleration and flashed
his lights so the two cars behind him would know
to do the same. "No police barricades yet. Good,
we can go across."

"Nate, wait. I don't think I've ever seen the river
this high before. Something's not right." Nicola
said.

Roy looked up from where he was holding
the sleeping Aaron in concern. He drew up a hand
and rubbed out a steamy place on the window to
look out. "Do you see cracks on the bridge asphalt?"
he asked Sommers.

"No.. it's ...call it intuition guys. I don't care. I think
the flooding's higher out there than it looks."

"Let's take a vote.." Nate said. "Radio the others."

Soon, everyone knew about Nicola's misgivings.

But then Mary said. "Please, Darren can't wait.
He needs rest somewhere warm and safe. This
car's no place for a newborn. I say we go on
and into town. The sooner the better."

##All right, Mary, if it's what you want." said Sheriff
Bittner over the radio. #Nate, you heard the lady.
Vamanos.##

The three cars travelled cautiously onto the small 
steel and concrete bridge stretching across the
valley. Just beyond, they could see town.

The first car got to the other side. There, the banks 
were already overflowing the wetlands at the bridge's foot.  
To Johnson, the sheeting water just looked like a thin
veneer over the road.  He inched forward.

Suddenly Nate's car dropped into the swift water over the road. 
It was far deeper than he realized and the Porsche 
began to slide sidewise off the highway with the flood water
up to the bottom of the car doors. Mary began to scream.

"No!" yelled Doc Frick, who floored the gas on 
the heavier station wagon. His momentum missed connecting
with the Porsche in an attempt to push the lighter car 
to high ground, and he overshot Nate, screeching
across the wet exposed road just beyond.

The doc and sheriff leaped out of the red car to run to the
edge of the water where Nate's car was floating away.
"Nate! Roll down your windows. Before you sink!"

Johnny gunned his gas pedal, to reach the safety
of the far bank like Frick had done.

But the country bridge's concrete bed suddenly 
dropped on its cables, its suspended road way tilting 
sharply when an unseen submerged house hit it with its
full water logged weight. The force jolted Johnny's land rover 
over the edge and into the river's depths.
  
Soon, the sheriff and the doctor, were alone by
the red wagon, perched precariously on the drowning
highway partially swallowed by the raging river, screaming
the names they knew at the night, listening for a reply.
 
There was none returned except the full throated 
roar of the flood as it destroyed the river bridge.

----------------------------------------------------------------

Photo :  Roy in a car holding an injured boy's bleeding neck.

Photo :  A rainy bridge from inside a car.

Photo :  A flooding river.

Photo :  Johnny's land rover, underwater.

Photo :   A struggling man under water.

*************************************************************
From :  Cory Anda <andacory@hotmail.com> 
Sent :  Thursday, July 1, 2004 12:39 AM 
Subject :  Separation 

Johnny felt the land rover shift under his
hands. "We're going over! Watch o--"

But then the white truck was plummeting down
like a stone underneath the wild night river's surface.

Cap gasped when the car landed on its side
on the river's bottom. His ears hurt from
the water pressure but he could still see lightning
reflecting from the sky down to them. "Everyone
all right?!" he coughed, feeling in the pitch blackness
for movement in the seats around him. "Tell me you're all
still conscious.. Hey..sound off!" he shouted over the 
hiss of water seeping in gushes from the window 
cracks into the cab of the rover.

"Yeah.."
"oh my g--"
"What happened?" 
"*sputter choke* Still here."

"The bridge gave way and we fell in. " 
Cap said, spitting mud and water out of his mouth. 
"Gage? You ok?"

"uh,, yeah.. I'm not pinned."

"Good cause we're gonna get out of here. Now.
Before we get hung up on any debris on the bottom.
Stoker. Grab that tire iron. Take a window out. My
side's turned up. Feel it?" Hank strained as he cut
himself lose from his seatbelt with a pocket knife.

"Yeah.." coughed the engineer. "How far's the surface?"

"Not too far. I'm seeing a glow from the lightning."

Kelly was terrified, "Not....ready..." he cried softly.
"I ...can't breathe.."

Marco grabbed him by the shoulders and hauled
him into his arms. "You're fine. You aren't hurt.
I already checked ya. We'll go up together."

"No.. please just wait. I ...can't. I don't think I
can do this." Chet gasped, hanging on tight
to Lopez's arms from where he lay across the car seat.
Water rained down on his face, blinding him.

"Ok.. ok.." Cap said, floating nearer the top end of
the rover's cab as the water grew deeper around them.
"We got rope in here?"

"Yeah. " Lopez said.. "I'll go get it." and he dove underneath
the black water to the back of the rover in the storage area.
He shot back to the top with a coiled length.

Gage snatched Chet's head and pulled him onto his shoulder,
floating both their faces in the remaining air space above them.
"Chet. Start to hyperventilate yourself.. You're gonna need
to because you're getting yourself worked up."

"What? *gasp* Of course I'm getting worked up! We're
about to drown in a raging river who knows how deep and--"

"No one's gonna drown cause we're gonna tie ourselves together."
Cap thundered. "Marco, here. Get him secured and Gage too. I already 
got myself anchored in a hitch. Set? Ok, Mike, pop it open. On the count 
of three."

"Too soon.. I'm not--!" Chet sputtered, tight in Johnny's grip.

"One.." Hank nodded grimly to Stoker.

"Cap.. don't .. I--" Chet pleaded.

"Two..."

"....can't catch my breath. I'll suck down water
for sure and die.. I just need a little more t--"  Kelly begged.

"THREE!"  Cap shouted.

Stoker swung at the window above them with
all of his strength.

" AghhhhHHHHHH!" Kelly screamed as
the river flooded in. The five hapless firemen were
swept out of the under water land rover and carried 
downstream inside the twisting river's under tow. 

Swimming blindly, Cap felt a yank on his rope 
as they were all tugged and tumbled in the current. 

A hidden tree limb smashed into his ribs and he lost most 
of his air. Desperation made him kick frantically in the 
direction that his escaping bubbles were now travelling in 
the water. 

Up.

Hank's head broke the surface into a storming,
fast moving h*ll.

The pine forest rushed by as the river carried the
firemen swiftly in its grip. Near them, the great bulk
of the sunken house that had ruined the bridge, paced them 
at their same drifting velocity.

He moved away from the house, worried about
getting himself and his men crushed against it when it
finally ground to a halt on a shallow bottom.

One by one, the other heads of his men shot
to the surface, and he heard them begin to gasp 
as they struggled to replenish precious air back
into their burning lungs. "All here?" Hank asked.

Gage shouted. "Cap! Chet's out cold."

"Did he get nailed by something on the way up?" Hank 
said as all of them linked arms, passing the limp Kelly
into the center of their floating circle so they could keep
his mouth and nose up into the air more easily.

"I don't think so, nothing got me." Johnny said.
"Maybe he just fainted. He was pretty scared down
there."

"So were we all. Keep tabs on his breathing. The rest of
us'll kick for shore. Gather the rope's ends back up. I
don't want us to get dragged back under on a snag."

Johnny shook extra water out of his hair.
"Ok, Stoker,.. open his shirt. I wanna keep tabs on him 
by feel. Marco, make sure he isn't bleeding anywhere."

"Right." they answered.

--------------------------------------------------------------------------

Nate was horribly frightened. "Freeze. Everybody, don't move!"
he panicked as the vibrating lurch of his tires dragging sideways
ended. In a blur, he saw the red station wagon and Doctor
Frick and the Sheriff recede into the distance as his car 
was gripped by the flood.  "Get the baby out!  Aaron?!"

Mr. Johnson reached for his son as water spilled violently 
into the car.

Roy hefted the infant over his head, wrapping Darren 
up in the plastic covering that had been over the drawer.
"Mary.. get out the window. I've got him. Nicola?!"

The Porsche slammed into a tree trunk and hung there,
canted sharply up stream. Roy got out and found
the water was to his waist. He held Darren in his
arms and Mary waded out, terrified but watching
DeSoto holding the baby. 

A shout from the shore showed Doctor Frick and Sheriff
Bittner flinging a rope in their direction. Roy grasped it
and handed it to Mary. "Go. I'll hand him off..." he 
ordered, fighting to stay on his feet in the swift water.

Mary went and Roy tossed Darren over his head
to land safely in Bittners wide arms. The baby squealed
in fright but soon calmed down as he was taken up
by his mother's soothing hands.

Roy waded back out to the car where he could
see a partially submerged Nate shoving his
son out the driver's window. Of Nicola, there was
no sign. "She still in there?"

"I ...I...I don't know.." sputtered Nate Johnson.
"I think she got out." 

Roy made a grab for Aaron's arms and snatched
the boy up to the shore. "Take him." DeSoto told
Bittner. " I gotta get--"

Then the Porsche suddenly rolled out of sight, carrying
a screaming Mr. Johnson and an invisible Ms. Sommers 
with it. "Nate! Nicola!"  The power of the current startled him.

DeSoto dove back into the swollen river, 
tying the sheriff's rope around his waist. He ducked under
the waves, holding his breath, and felt the car slip over a 
muddy bar and away from him downstream. 

At the same time, a shard of bridge material shot by and 
sliced his safety rope in two with knifelike precision.

Roy disappeared.

Sheriff Bittner and Doctor Frick ran down the shoreline,
tracing where they could see the tumbling silver Porsche
log rolling in the rapids, calling out to them frantically.

---------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Nicola Sommers coughed and roused. She was on her back,
at the very edge of the raging river. She barely remembered 
pulling Nate Johnson free of the car before it sank into the depths.  

Dimly, she remembered that she had heard a loud sound on shore
after she had dragged a limp Mr. Johnson onto the bank.

It had been a dry rasping buzz that made her recoil in fright. 
Soon after, something unseen in the darkness had struck her 
left hand sharply.

Groggily peering down, Nicola saw only a small smear of blood there. 
The slight wound she found burned only faintly, but her heart 
was pounding.

::Where is he?:: Sommers wondered, dizzy, about Nate. She
 winced, when a lump the size of a grape on her temple, argued 
with her louder than her throbbing hand. ::And what's that awful
smell?:: she thought, shaking her head to come more
fully awake.

With her eyes, muzzy and unfocused, she realized that she
was just below the water treatment plant. It was
still  completely storm unscathed and the raw sewage stench 
coming from the reservoir pools swirling at the top of the hill 
was as strong as ever. Nicola gagged.

Sneezing, she flipped over onto her hands and knees to
clear her mouth out of foul tasting mud.

Her right hand bumped into Nate Johnson's waist.
He was lying motionless and blue next to her under a knot
of severed electrical wire. "Oh, G*d." she cried and scrambled 
for his head. "Mr. Johnson?!"

He didn't react to a firm chest rub so she leaned down and listened
over his cobalt lips, opening his airway carefully. ::Hypothermia?::  

No sounds of active breathing rewarded her. "It's worse 
than that? Nate. Don't do this." she mumbled to herself.

Nicola gave him two breaths of air mouth to mouth and then
she dug a set of fingers into his neck. She verbally snapped, 
angry, but also half fearful. "Nate. Cut it out and breathe.
You gotta live for your son. No way am I gonna let you 
stay and almost drown like this."

Seconds later, she confirmed that Mr. Johnson's heart
had stopped. "Nate! You're out of the water!" she shouted
"Come on. Snap out of it." and she began to administer CPR
after freeing him from his mud smeared shirt.

After the next set of breaths, Nicola shouted for help into the 
dripping, still functioning HT dangling around her wrist. 
"Sheriff?!  Doc?!  Nate's down! No pulse. I'm just south of 
the bridge junction about... two hundred yards. Right
below Pig's Eye Plant. He either drown or a power line 
got him."

##Any sign of Roy DeSoto?## 

Nicola shifted around, searching, as she continued her
efforts.

"No. None... I haven't seen him since the bridge fell."
Nicola gasped as she continued to maintain Nate. 
"Hurry. I don't think I can keep this up much longer.
I've hit my head among other things."

##We'll be right there!## the sheriff promised. 
##The wagon's intact..##

Nicola counted off a minute, two minutes, then five
as the world narrowed down into a tight focus until it was just 
the lifeless man lying underneath her palms. "Nate.. Come back." 
she gasped. "You picked a stupid place to die in. The air's foul.
Dead fish everywhere.  This whole beach's a complete
sh*thole. Disgusting! Pick it up, d*mmit!" she gagged,
still working hard on keeping her compressions effective.

Doctor Frick and the Sheriff came running down the hill,
skidding and grimacing at the smell of the treatment
plant, laden with all the medical gear they could carry.

"Down here! He's gonna need an esophageal. He's getting
tight with inhalations."

Frick and Bittner soon took over for Nicola who gratefully
staggered a short distance away, finally allowing herself
to get sick onto the flood soft mud as she let her roiling stomach 
take over. Then she folded into a heap, falling unconscious.

------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Roy DeSoto sped through the darkness in the river, his strength 
waning. His outdoor clothes constantly caught on trees and
debris floating around him. So he shed all of them down
to his bare skin, including his shoes, saving only his orange rain 
jacket for some protection when he finally got to shore. 

Ten minutes and many bruises later, a struggling plow horse
nearby in the water got his attention and he grabbed its mane, 
letting the exhausted but placid animal swim him to what 
appeared to be a boat landing mooring site.

Shuddering off its excess water and mud, the big brown horse fled, 
leaving Roy to stagger on his own out of the water.

 A renewed roar behind him made Roy run faster away from the 
flooding river as the bridge and the house that had pulverised it made 
the flood surge even higher up the mountain slopes. 

He fled with icy rising water lapping at both of his bare heels. 

Minutes later, after a period of unthinking panic, DeSoto realized that 
he was in town, inside a city park. A sign was posted declaring a roadside 
shelter a few hundred yards away. 

Groaning, Roy limped slowly in that direction, wondering whether 
or not his coworkers and the other Santa Rosa folks, had survived.

--------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Doc Frick worked on reviving Nate with his defibrillator
while Bittner gathered up Nicola into his arms to
figure out what was wrong with her. "Doc, she doesn't
look so good."

"How so?" Frick said, giving Nate another jolt from
the defibrillator. The second time rewarded him with a viable 
rhythm. "Gotcha." He smiled when Mr. Johnson also began to 
breathe through his EOA. "Blaine, set her down over here before 
you strain yourself into another angina attack."

Bittner shrugged and set her down, placing her head into his lap.
"She's ok vitals wise. Just not awake." he puzzled.

"I'll take a look at her as soon as I take a set of vitals
on him. Why don't you get on the horn and tell those
ambulance boys to meet us here at the plant?"
Frick suggested.

"Good idea, doc." and Blaine dug the walkie talkie out
of his pocket to hail them.

-----------------------------------------------------------------------------------
The gang had freed themselves from the flood.

They were walking down the rainy highway towards the direction 
of the bridge crossing they had been swept away from almost 
fifteen minutes ago. 

Chet had recovered fully from his misadventure and was gabbing as 
fast as he usually did to the other four firemen with him.
"So the Porsche took a dive, too?" Kelly wanted to know. "Oh man. 
If they went as deep as we did, they're goners for sure. I didn't see 
any tire iron in the back of Mr. Johnson's car when we were
loading it earlier."

The unwelcome speculation grated on Johnny. 
"Chet.  Thank you for bringing up such an unpleasant thought.
My partner was in that car."

Kelly immediately amended. "Oh, but I have every faith in
the world that DeSoto bailed all of them out. He's a big
guy, Johnny. One of the biggest. I don't see a flimsy
car window standing in the way of--"

Marco Lopez interrupted him. "I keep thinking about the
baby."

That made Chet and the others go silent.

Cap filled the pause with a quiet bit of wisdom. 
"Let's just cross that bridge when we come to it.."

"We did.." Chet said furlatively. He wasn't trying
to be funny. "And look where it got us? Roy's
missing along with Nicola, Mary, Nate, Aaron and
the baby. I just hate to think of what might've happened
to all of them, not just little Darren."

Hank studied the road and just listened to the sound
of all their soggy footfalls as their water logged shoes
paced the pavement as they walked. "Ok, let's talk
about something positive, all right? What's something
that we've never talked about before, huh?"

"Gee, I don't know, Cap." Gage said quietly, trying
to smile for everyone's benefit. "Being together so
long, there really isn't anything we haven't covered."

"Yeah, Johnny's right." Mike Stoker said.

"Ditto." nodded Marco.

Hank was firm and insistent and he sighed.
"We've got at least ten minutes walking until
we get to where we lost the others. And I'd do
anything to pass the time more quickly. Don't
you? Come on, gang. We can think of something
new.  I know.. why don't we talk about....."

---------------------------------------------------------------

Photo:  Family in a flashflood with plastic wrapped baby.

Photo: Man and boy in a flooded truck.

Photo: Girl doing CPR on a man.

Photo: A rattler biting in a strike.

Photo: The gang laughing.

****************************************************
Date: Thu, 1 Jul 2004 10:25:59 +0100 (BST) 
From: "Katherine Bird" <kathbird01@yahoo.co.uk>    
Subject:  Fish Out of Water.. 


"..the fact that we're gonna find Roy before dawn.." said
Chet with sudden finality and conviction.

Hank blinked, actually pausing in his tracks.
"Oh, ..uh, yeah. That's a positive statement."

"And it's new." Marco agreed.

Johnny Gage rubbed his nose. "Scared me
for a minute, Chet. For a second there, I thought
we were going to have to fess up to each
other about how we all became firemen."
and he grinned a cock eyed grin.

"Now why would I do a dumb thing like that
Johnny? Knowing why you do what you do
for a living is sort of personal, isn't it?
I'd never violate that sacred trust." Kelly nodded 
solemnly. 

Gage stopped Chet with a finger. "Now wait
a minute. You mean all those years of..of..of
baiting me with practical jokes as the Phantom
and all that other stuff weren't abuses of the
trust between friends?" he emphasized throwing
fingers back and forth from himself to Chet in
a gesture to clarify his point.

Kelly mulled it over, wiping mud off an elbow.
"No.." he said mildly. "Come on, the big guy's
waiting." he said and he led the way ahead of
the gang along the road leading back the way
they had come. "Every second we delay is
a second longer not knowing what's happened to
him. Get the lead out!" he boomed over the thunder
sizzling around them and he swept an arm forward
to rally the rest of them.

"This coming from a man who was a snivelling
nervous wreck half an hour ago." Mike marvelled.

"That's because forty feet of muddy river water isn't 
flowing over his head right at the particular moment."
Gage said wryly to Cap, shrugging.

Johnny began to whistle as he nonchalantly followed
after Kelly.

----------------------------------------------------------------------

Doctor Frick was satisfied with Nate Johnson's progress
out of near death. He heard only residual rales in
the man's chest. "Most of the water's already absorbed
Blaine. I won't need albuterol."

"How's his heart? Wasn't he down a long time?"
Bittner wanted to know.

"We won't know that until we run his lab tests at
the hospital when we get there. Now.. let's see how
Nicola's doing..." he said, reaching to do a head
to toe survey on her.

"Ho! Doc! I'm all right." shouted DeSoto, jumping out
of a tan police car. He was wearing dry clothes, jeans
and a gray button down shirt. "I got a ride back from
the highway patrolman coming to barricade off 
the bridge causeway. Only I told him the causeway
was already gone." Roy grinned. Then his smile
immediately fell away when he saw Nate intubated
and Nicola deeply unconscious. "What's their story?"
he said snatching up a pen light to check out Sommers
when the Doc pointed to her first. 

"Nate was nearly drown. Nicola found him in full arrest
and kept him going until Blaine and I arrived with
the defibrillator. Now, she's just collapsed after
getting sick."

"Not surprising with that around.." Roy said,
throwing a head toss towards the treatment
plant. "Gotta love that country air.." he quipped.
"Speaking of a hospital. The ambulance crew following
us encountered Mary and Darren and Aaron. 
They're already on their way into town. They'll be 
back for all of us.."


"That's a relief. I haven't checked Nicola over yet beyond 
the primary." Frick told him. "Could you finish up?"

"Sure will." Roy said, grabbing shears out of a bag.

The CHiP was speaking to Blaine a short distance
away about the ETA of the two ambulances Roy
had promised them.

"Can I help?" said another voice. It was Johnny.
"My are you a sight for sore eyes." Gage sighed in
relief when he got close enough to see who clustered
on the beach. He crouched right away and began to
cut away Nicola's sleeves and pants legs next to Roy.

"Two are faster." Roy smiled. "Her story's a mystery.
Doc here says she was lively enough to perform some
CPR on Nate over there but then blacked out soon
afterwards. Doc said that she became extremely nauseated
fairly quickly." he told Gage.

"Not the air?" he said wrinkling his dirty nose.

"Nope. It's something else.." Frick said. "Bad smells don't
make people faint."

"But bad sights do." Cap said as the rest of them caught up
with Johnny from the road.

Kelly cleared his throat nervously. "Aww, Cap. Do you have
to tell him?"

"Fraid I do, Chet.  Syncope's nothing to shake a stick at,
especially when one was under water doing it." Hank said.

"Chet fainted?" Roy frowned.

"Yeah." Marco said. "For a whole six or seven minutes.
We had to swim him ashore."

"Chet, is your chest clear? How's your head?" DeSoto
asked rapidly.

"Yes and fine. Concentrate on Nicola and Nate buddy boy.
I'm far from being a casualty." Kelly said no nonsense,
setting some O2 over Sommers face from the doctor's
satchel. 

"Hang on a minute Chet, I have to check something."
DeSoto said. He crouched over Nicola and peeled back
her lips to find cyanosis and a growing ecchymosis building
along her gums inside of her mouth.

Johnny saw it, too, holding the young woman's mask.
"A toxic exposure of some kind?"

"Who knows in that water.." Marco said.

"The water treatment plant's perfectly fine, Marco, or it 
wouldn't still be in operation." Chet told him. "Gotta be
something else."

"Bingo.. " said Johnny. "Doc, take a look at this."
and he shivered. "Thought I smelled one on her."

"Smelled what Gage?" Mike Stoker asked, kneeling
by Nate's head to monitor him.

"Snake. Looks like a bite on her left hand. And it's
bleeding freely."

"Into a vein.." Frick said, taking a look. "Most likely a
rattler. We've got a ton in the river bottoms. The flood
must've washed one out from under the bank hollows."

Frick noticed Johnny's complexion. "You ok?"

"Yeah, I'm fine. I...just have a bad history with snakes.
That's all. It was a rattler that nearly kept me from
reaching my twenty eighth birthday."

Frick nodded. "Constricting band. And lower her arm
below her heart. Start an I.V. Ringers on her and run it
wide open. Her vital signs are shocky and her rate's
well into the V-tach range."

Roy said. "Got it here. Want me to lance this and apply
suction?" he said, indicating the snake bite on the woman's
hand.

"Nah, it's too late at this stage of the game. She was
exerting herself and anything the venom's gonna do, it's
already well on the way to doing it." Frick sighed.
"I'll be sure to get ten to twenty vials of antivenin set once
we get into the ER."

"What kinds of tests do you want?" Johnny said
holding Nicola's head back so her harsh breathing came
more easily. "I can tell them once we get there to free
you up."

"Oh, the same as what your city docs usually order. A CBC, 
PT, a PTT, electrolytes, glucose, and a renal function 
study series." he said.

"Don't forget to mark my skin at the leading edge of the bite 
with a pen every 15 to 30 to find coagulopathy and progressing
edema.." mumbled the woozy girl on the ground.

Gage smiled. "Welcome back." he said releasing her head.
"Now don't make me have to tell you to keep still or to keep
this oxygen on your face." He held her down when she
remembered Mr. Johnson.

"Nate?!" Nicola shouted, her memory returning.

"Nate's fine. He's got a pulse and he's breathing on his own."

Nicola fixed Roy and Johnny with a stare. "Now why do
I have to keep from moving? I didn't hurt myself."

"No, but a certain scaley one did, Ms. Sommers. A snake got
your hand."

Nicola let her head clunk back onto the ground. "Oh, so
that's what it was.. a diamondback."

"You certain of that?" Dr. Frick said, drawing a red top
from Nicola's arm when he started to hear the sound
of sirens growing in the distance.

"I'm more than sure. I heard the d*mned rattling before
a tree limb landed on my head." she said empathetically.
Then she winced when Roy applied a tourniquet to her
forearm above the bite. "How's Mary and Darren?"

"Safe. Most likely in a warm hospital bed as we speak."
Blaine said, turning from the CHiP officer he had
been speaking to about everyone's adventure in the flood.

"Boy that sounds good." Sommers sighed, falling asleep. 
"I think I'll doze and make it happen faster."

"Roll over on your side, Nicola. In case you get an upset
stomach again." Frick told her.

Nicola was beyond hearing already, so Gage and Roy
gently turned her underneath the blankets that the highway
patrol officer had given them.

"She goes first. Nate's stable." Frick told the paramedics.

Johnny and Roy nodded.

---------------------------------------------------------------------------------
It was four days later and it was nearly the end of the gang's
luckless vacation week.

"Boys, " said Blaine over chili at Rosie's. "Let me make it
up to you. There ain't no finer fishing guide here than Ms
Sommers." he professed.

Nicola cradled her arm in its sling, blushing."Well, what else
have I got to do but fish in the summer time. It's not like
I'm busy in school or anything then." she admitted.
"I'd be happy to take you out on the lake. I know where
all the holes are. Like lake trout?" she said leaning into
Cap.

Hank swallowed dryly. "Uh, maybe that's a question for
my men, Ms. Sommers.  They're the ones who think
they can eat em.."

Nicola redirected her eyes at the gang.

"Oh, I like them just fine, maam." said Marco.
"Sure do.." said Chet.
"When I can catch em.'' Johnny chuckled honestly.
"Only when my wife fixes em up." Roy admitted.
"Or when I do..." Stoker followed up on the cooking
comment.

"How do you boys prepare them?" asked Doctor Frick.
"You haven't lived until you've slathered them in Pabst
batter and have them deep fried on a griddle over a camp 
fire. Maybe we can do that tonight at the campsite."

"Sure.. It'll take at least until morning for the rental
car company to run another truck out to us to
haul the camper back to L.A. on Saturday." Hank
accepted for his men.

"Great. It can be a beach party."

"Just as long as I don't have to get wet or
anything like that to attend." Kelly goggled 
distastefully.

"Not unless you want to." Nicola soothed.

"Or unless the boat tips over again, dumping
us in like it did last time." complained Lopez.

"You guys tipped over that night?" Gage said,
smiling like a hawk over a rabbit.

"Yeah, off the point. Guess we must have been
out of eye range." Marco detailed.

"Kelly, no wonder you were so cagey when you guys raced
up the beach to help us with Stoker's outhouse fire.
You had just had another water scare. Explains why
you overreacted today in the river."

"Not very d*mned funny Gage." Chet said with only
half heat. "Ask anyone here. I didn't overreact at all."

"Oh yeah? Then why were you the only one who
checked out getting free of my rover?" Johnny challenged.

"I.......I... had trouble breathing, that's all. Stoker wailed
out that window faster than I could get ready for it."
Chet said defensively.

"You were breathing fine when we all hauled you
up to the top.." Stoker chipped in. "You didn't sound
like any dyspnea case I've ever heard. He had smooth 
pipes, Gage. Real smooth. The whole time."

"Thanks for sticking up for me, Stoker. I'll remember that
the next time you draw chrome detail before a monthly
inspection." Chet gestured pointedly.

Soon, the gang was debating semantics with each other
at the top of their lungs, gleefully and deadly passionate, 
while a contented Hank watched on.

Dr. Frick reached over and shook Cap and Roy's hand.
"Looks like you've been thoroughly initiated by Santa
Rosa County now. You've been baptized in our waters."

"Some more than others.." quipped Nicola, making a face
as she remembered the Pig's Eye plant.

"Well, be that as it may. I'm sure glad we stopped by." Hank
admitted. "You were just what these city fireboys ordered."

----------------------------------------------------------------------------- 

Photo : Woman fainted with two above her.

Photo: A fat brook trout.

Photo: Roy, Blaine and Johnny eating chili.

Photo: A fisherman landing a fish in a net.

Photo:  A row of resort cabins.

Photo: Roy in a cowboy hat.

Photo: Nicola Sommers with a sheepish look.

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

FIN
                 
                                                              
                                      Shadows Of The Past

              :)   This episode is dedicated to the EMSLive.com website             :)
                    for providing superior online paramedic radio programming 
              :)    through out Canada and abroad.                                                :)                                                                                                                          

@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@
 
 
The Story Unfolds...

Season Two, Episode Twelve..

§§ Crossing The Red Line  §§
 
 ******************************************************
From :  Joan <chetspet@myway.com> 
Subject :  [EmergencyTheaterLive] A Test Of Wills
Sent :  Saturday, July 3, 2004 1:05 AM 


The day was a typical day at Station 51. It was 2pm 
and they had had three runs, 2 rescues and 1 fire, none 
of which were bad, without any Code I’s. 

Even Johnny came away unscathed, so far..

Chet, as usual, had drawn latrine duty, for having 
sprung a water bomb on the Cap that was intended for 
Johnny. As he mopped the latrine, he grumbled to himself,
"Man, how was I supposed to know the Cap was gonna open 
the cabinet before Gage? MAN!"

Johnny and Roy were checking through their equipment 
to make sure all their supplies were in order, while Stoker was 
polishing ‘Big Red’.

Cap was in his office trying to catch up on some of 
his never-ending paperwork, while Marco was in the kitchen 
making his famous chili for dinner. 

The guys were all able to enjoy their dinner for once.

Suddenly the klaxons sounded and it turned out to be a 
call for the whole station.

"Station 51. Unknown rescue at the Carson City 
Hall. 534 East Carson Street. Cross Street Avalon. Time 
out 1803."

While everyone ran to their assigned duties, Captain 
Stanley acknowledged, "10-4 Station 51 responding. Carson 
City Hall 534 East Carson Street. Cross Street Avalon. KMG 
365." And he then ran to the engine.

The men arrived to find the mayor and his secretary 
waiting for them,while police and security guards were 
trying  to keep people calm and away from the scene.

Captain Stanley went up to the mayor and asked, "Mr. 
Mayor, I’m Captain Stanley of the fire department. What 
seems to be the trouble, sir?"

"Well, Captain Stanley, the thing is I am not really 
sure. All I know is I was in my office dictating a memo to 
Linda, my secretary, here when this young man came 
running into my office yelling. I thought maybe he was a
disgruntled citizen with a complaint of some kind, you 
know."

Captain Stanley nodded and then introduced Roy and John as the
paramedics, and said, "Go on with your story Mayor Johnson."

"Ok, well, as I said before, I thought that but it turned out he was
yelling for help. Seems he was sick or something, cause within a 
minute or two, he passed right out on my floor and started foaming 
at the mouth. After a few seconds, he appeared to wake up and yelled 
at me, "Mayor Johnson, you need to tell everyone there is a wild rabid 
dog running out right outside this building. I was cleaning the back 
up and out of nowhere he attacked me!" After he said this, he again 
passed out, and is now lying in my office and hasn’t moved since he 
said that. I called you guys right away and I hope I’m not too late.
I have the animal patrol searching for the dog now. Please go
help him, but be careful of that dog. I have no idea where he could be."

Roy and John assured the Mayor they would attend to the stricken
man immediately and Captain Stanley had his guys assist with the 
search, telling them all to be very careful.

While John and Roy were upstairs, the animal control people had
found and corralled the dog and put him down, as he was too far-gone 
to be helped.

Their patient, although stable, had never regained consciousness
and Rampart had ordered the dog’s body brought in as well; to 
be sure it was rabies and nothing else.

With Roy in front and John in back, they began to transport the
victim. While doing this, John’s foot became entwined with some 
loose carpeting in the stairwell and he tripped, losing the stretcher. 
As it was only three steps to go, Roy was able to safely put the patient 
down. 

In the meantime, Johnny stumbled down and landed hard on his left
leg, and hearing a SNAP he fell over, saying, "Oh, Man! I think I 
busted my leg, Roy!"

"Ok, Junior, just let me maneuver around you and the stretcher 
and call for some help ok? Will you be ok for a minute?"
 
"Yeah, yeah. Man, what a dumb thing to do! You know, maybe 
I should sue city hall."  And he laughed.

"Glad you are in good spirits there, pal. I’ll be right back."

-----------------------------------------------------------------------

Photo:  None offered.

***********************************************************
From :  Cassidy Meyers <killashandrarey@hotmail.com> 
Sent :  Thursday, July 15, 2004 9:11 PM 
Subject :  The Unknown Factor 


Johnny watched Roy depart, wheeling the
stretcher out into the large lobby of city hall
to where he could see the gang milling about
outside with the Mayor through the paned
glass windows. The ambulance attendants who
had been outside cleared a path through
the crowd of onlookers and took over the 
fair haired paramedic's stretcher and the big 
Mayfair angled on the curb was quickly loaded up.

Immediately, Johnny saw Cap nod a few seconds
after Roy shouted something to him.  At an order, Marco
and Chet ran off to grab the splint box out of the squad. 
He almost blushed in embarrassment when he saw Cap 
plaster a face against the doors to see how he was doing. 
Seconds later, he saw Mayor Johnson lead the way to show
the firemen the stairway Roy and Gage had used to reach 
the office and the mysteriously stricken man.

Cap was right on their heels. "Gage? You ok?" he
boomed no nonsense.

"I'm fine. Just my leg. Might be a fib fracture. It
didn't sound loud enough to be anything else."

"This from the voice of experience.." Kelly nodded.

"Oh,.. cut it out. The carpeting here, came up on
the stair. See?" Johnny waved a hand at everybody to
distract them from looking at how red his face was
becoming under their penetrating eyes.
 
The mayor did see. He leaned over and told Linda
the secretary to go get an employee with a camera 
to take pictures of the area. "Don't you worry about
a thing, Mr. Gage.  I've been at the maintenance 
department for weeks about how loose that was.
I'll have your medical bills covered. I set aside
some of my own party's funds to handle all insurance 
claims filed for accidents occurring inside the building
a few weeks ago once I found out how badly I was beating
my head against the wall trying to get things done around
here fixing city hall's architectural problems, including that stair."
Just let my secretary know about your bills when they 
arrive." and he handed over a business card. "And that 
includes any lost wages on the job." he said empathetically. 
"I'll have this carpet nailed down in half an hour or my name 
isn't William A. Johnson, Jr." He waved over one of the security 
guards to stand over the spot until environmental services could
place a caution sign over the area. "It's just a shame that such
a dedicated city servant like you, had to get hurt first to 
expedite things."

Johnny took the card, meekily, in awe that he had
such a response so fast from such a high up city official.

Kelly nudged his shoulder with an elbow while
he and Marco splinted up his left lower leg.
"Start moaning. Maybe you'll get more." he
whispered, sotto voce. "Roy told us about what
you said after it happened while he was loading up
the guy."

Gage scowled. "Chet, I was only kidding about that.
Ow, not so tight! Guys, get my shoe off so I can
see how my circulation's doing under that splint."

Cap came back after radioing on ahead for
a replacement paramedic to take Johnny's
place at the station when they all cleared from
the call. "I had to let Roy go on ahead to Rampart with
the victim. He started right back into another convulsion.
Eight's is shadowing him in their squad in case he gets
into hot water. They were a minute away just off a 
cancelled call." He watched with interest while Kelly
and Lopez gingerly peeled off sock and shoe from
Gage's foot. "Is it an open fracture?" he asked,
leaning over to look for blood on the leg.

"No, closed and simple." Johnny grimaced, wiggling his 
toes in a neuro and circulation check around the air splint
Lopez and Kelly had applied. "Ok, get me on my feet."
he told them. They helped him up, slinging Johnny's shaking 
arms over both their shoulders. "Cap, I can go in the squad. 
I'm still fine pain wise."

Cap studied him closely. Gage felt a trickle of cold sweat
pour down his face, betraying him. "I'm not objected to
you calling in another squad to get to some pain meds."

"Cap, this is embarrassing enough as it is without the
entire fire department finding out yet again about another 
Gage mishap. It's a stigma I've been trying to erase for 
years now."

"This wasn't your fault." Cap reasoned.

"I know that. Neither was just about everything else
that's happened to me. But the other stations are still
keeping bets on my tally. Somehow, they've already found
out about the snake, the monkey virus, my fall off the ladder 
because of that flashover, my hit and run accident...."

Mayor Johnson piped up. "Don't forget to tell my attorney
when he calls about your pain and suffering, too. I'll not have 
that unaccounted for in your compensation figures." he said
before he hurried away to harrass the just now gathering
maintenance crew.

Gage winced when he realized how that must have
sounded to the frustrated city mayor. He immediately
felt guilty. But the queasy feeling growing in his
stomach made being tactful nearly impossible.

Johnny tried not to frown as Marco and Chet aided
him out the very crowded antehall and back outside to
the vicinity of the engine and the squad. Cap followed behind 
with Johnny's helmet and his sock and shoe. With every hop, 
Gage's bound leg felt like it was on fire. ::The splint's on right. 
What's the problem?:: he thought, thinking things through.

He made them set him down on the squad's seat with
the door open long enough for him to do a self blood pressure 
check when Cap wasn't looking. It was oddly low, and when he
weaved from where he sat, he wasn't surprised when
Mike Stoker suddenly ran up with the engine's spare 02
and clattered it open. Gage never felt himself being lowered 
to the ground. 

His companions' urgent voices swirled away
into a loud hissing that was announcing the arrival of a 
complete and utterly terrifying blackout. His heart started
pounding frantically, rising into his eardrums. Then silence
slammed down over his awareness and he knew no more.

---------------------------------------------------------------------------

"What the--" Cap startled from his place leaning on the Ward's
doorframe. He had just finished informing L.A. of their status.
He snatched up his HT just as he saw the guys cradle
Gage to the sidewalk under the squad's passenger door.
"Kelly, what happened?" he said as he watched Stoker
set a demand valve over Johnny's nose and mouth and begin
to punch the button on its regulator, delivering fully assisted
breaths.

Chet looked up from Gage as he and Marco got Johnny's
shirt open. "Don't know. He took his own pressure, gasped,
and then keeled over. Now his heart's racing and Stoker
says he's barely breathing."

"What was it?" Cap asked of the blood pressure reading
his afflicted paramedic had found.

"Eighty palpated." said Lopez.

Hank thumbed his talk bar on the walkie talkie. "L.A. Engine 51. We 
have a Code I at our location. Respond an additional squad and
ambulance to 534 East Carson Street and Avalon."

##10-4, Engine 51. Time out, 18: 51.##

Then Cap looked down and saw a spreading rash quickly appear over
Gage's skin and across his chest and neck. "Hold it, hold it."
he ordered when he saw Kelly and Marco starting to free their hands
up for possible CPR. "Guys, keep your gloves on. That looks like 
a toxic chemical reaction."  

In horror, they both looked down.

A gust of wind rose, fluttering Gage's opened uniform shirt and cut
apart T shirt. Chet suddenly groaned and looked away, grabbing
his face. "Oww! My eyes!"

Cap shouted to the security guards to pull the crowds back
from around the firemen, firetrucks and Johnny. "Get them
back!  Way back! There's an unknown chemical effecting us! 
Start clearing out all the areas that victim we treated may have
been in contact with. And that includes the stairway! Move
out all civilians using other routes! Do that before
you do anything else!  Mayor Johnson stays on scene.
It'll be your ever lovin' rears if he doesn't. He's possibly been 
exposed to whatver this stuff is the same as we have!"

The many city hall guards hastened to follow Cap's orders.

Hank grabbed an air bottle off its exterior rack behind E51's cab
and slid it on. "Marco, get into your air gear, first. I'll get Mike's.
THEN deal with helping Chet wash out his eyes. Whatever this
chemical is, it's potent.."

"I thought something was fishy about that guy.." Chet
coughed, eagerly snatching the reel line Cap dropped
by him to start washing his face and eyes clean. "Rabies
infection doesn't ever set in that fast.."

Air masked donned, Cap got on the radio once again. 
"Engine 51, L.A.  Call in a full Hazmat Response Team immediately 
and three additional fire stations. Two firemen are down with symptoms 
of sudden toxicity. Evacuations of the first floor city hall and second floor 
office suites have been initiated by city security personnel. An immediate 
Battalion Chief is requested at my scene. We may have an unknown number
of casualties inside the building."  He dropped to his knees, pulling
up his turnout's collar and he bent over Gage to take over his
ventilation care while his engineer hastily got into his SCBA gear.

##10-4, 51. Time out, 18:54.  Response ETA of the rescue squad
is estimated at six minutes to your location. Hazmat and Battalion 
reports an arrival in ten.##

"10-4, L.A. Engine 51 out." Stoker answered for Cap on the 
abandoned HT near Cap's knees. "How are you feeling?" Mike 
asked Hank ironically as he shoved on his bottle's air mask.

"I'm fine. Calm as peaches, outwardly.." Hank joked.
"You?" he said giving Gage another breath with the ventilator
when his chest didn't rise high enough on its own for his liking.

"Nothing on my end." Stoker said. "I got him.." 
and he took over for his captain, gripping Johnny's
pale, dripping face firmly under his gloves to keep
a good open airway.

"Just keep all skin exposed areas on yourself, covered up." 
Hank said, rising, his adrenaline heightened breaths whistling 
noisily behind his SCBA's face plate. "Marco will stay in case he 
crashes further." he added when he saw Lopez's thumbs up from 
the solid wash he was giving Chet's head and hair. 

Kelly's shirt and coat were abandoned on the sidewalk
and he was down to his white T shirt, kneeling over
the curb to let the hose outwash flow into the sewer drain.

Cap went on, keeping verbal contact with Mike through
both their air masks. "If Kelly checks out ok, I'll put him on 
communications until the other stations get here. 
Need a relay to Rampart?"

"Yeah, Johnny's throat's getting tight. He may need
to be intubated before the squad gets here." Stoker
said. 

"Aren't you glad you've been cross training in the 
experimental intermediate paramedic program of Brackett's? 
That's been just as innovative this past month as Kelly's cross 
training as a backup engineer for us behind DeSoto. I guess 
now's your time to shine." he said without a smile. "I'll grab 
the spare resp kit from the engine."  

Cap rose in a hurry and tapped Marco on the shoulder,
jerking a gloved thumb over his shoulder at Gage
and Stoker. 

Lopez nodded to Kelly, who was shaking his
head like a dog to shed off his contaminated water. "I've got
to go. Gage's in the weeds. Stoker's getting a tube out."
And he dropped the hose into off before he started running.

Kelly slid into his air mask and bottle that Cap had clunked by his
feet and blinked water out of his eyes. "You, too, Cap. Go on.
I'm ok now.. That strange burning's gone."

"You sure?" Cap asked, keeping a safe short distance between
himself and Kelly.

"Yeah.." Chet voice hissed as he tested his air bottle's regulator.

"Ok. Get on the horn and raise Rampart. Stoker's gonna
need a doctor for.."

"I know.. Marco's just told me." and Chet rushed back to
the other firemen.

A minute later,  Stoker had an HT tucked under one helmeted ear on 
open talk mode to Kel Brackett when Cap said. "Ch.. r*st All Mighty. 
I forgot about Roy! He's still with the guy who started all of this." Cap 
straightened up on his knees and started to call the Mayfair, now half way 
to Rampart, speeding Code Three. He whipped up his walkie talkie. 
"L.A. Engine 51. Clear me on Tactical to Squad 51's HT. Emergency!"

##Engine 51. You are on Situation First - Go.## came Lanier's crisp
reply.

Hank shot to his feet. "Engine 51 to HT 51. Do you read me? Over...."

He barely saw Mike Stoker and Marco Lopez being talked through
Johnny's endotracheal airway insertion. He didn't envy the difficulty
they were facing being stuck inside their work gloves and wearing
their steamed up air masks.

"Engine 51 to Squad 51. This is Captain Stanley on Priority Override. 
Do you read?"

-------------------------------------------------------

Photo :  City Hall types on a carpeted stairwell.

Photo:  Mayor William A. Johnson, Jr. 

Photo:  Carson City's real City Hall.

Photo:   Cap calling urgently on the radio,
             crouched low near the squad.

Photo:  A speeding Mayfair ambulance rushing 
            down the road.

*****************************************************
From:  Sam Iam <lafddispatcher@yahoo.com> 
Date:  Fri Jul 23, 2004  12:36 pm 
Subject: Threading the Needle

Mike Stoker shouted into the handy talkie perched
onto his shoulder. "Rampart this is Engine 51." he
yelled through his SCBA mask. "My victim is
unresponsive to pain and under full ventilation 
support. I have access to basic airway equipment
as the squad is off scene. Victim is showing
a sudden onset rash across his torso and neck
with no evidence of hives. Chest rise is nominal.
There is no obstruction we can see.."  he said
as he got an affirming nod from Marco who
checked yet again for the effectiveness of
the demand valve's seal over Johnny's face.
The latin american firefighter was watching
closely for signs of movement in Gage's limbs
or eyelids and for bad airway trouble in the form 
of chest noise.

The engineer sighed as he watched Cap run fast
to coordinate the evacuation of city hall with
a hand held megaphone. He could see Hank was torn
between learning more about their inadvertent chemical
problem and conducting the start of a Level 1 CIS setup.
As yet, there were no other engines, nor batallion chiefs
within earshot. Stoker and Kelly and Lopez never felt
so alone as they did in that moment when Cap
disappeared in the crowd.

## 10-4, Engine 51.. uh, is this Mike Stoker ?##
came Dr. Brackett's face.


---------------------------------------------------------------------

Dr. Brackett tilted his head in surprise at
Dixie. He lifted his finger from the talk button.
"I wonder where Roy is?" he frowned at McCall.

Dixie handed him a chart. "Joe handled his call.
He's on the way in with an unconscious.  A male of
about 45. Roy said he was an unknown type seizure 
with psychotic episode with no known etiology
other than possible rabies.. Six minutes out."

##That's affirmative, Rampart.## came Stoker's
muffled reply on the radio to Kel's question.

Kel lost all doubt in the firefighter's abilities.
"Stoker. You know the drill. Have your head man start
hyperventilating him. I'll walk you through best
I can. I know you've never done one in the field but
I have full confidence in you. I should know, I trained
you. Now things'll be harder to see on a live
person than what you were used to from the
program. At no time do you hurry. The soft palate's
sensitive in some cases of collapse and the last thing 
we need is a laryngospasm clamping down and really
making things difficult. Let me know when you 
see the vocal cords, Mike.. You have a minute after
Johnny stops getting vented in order to get in a successful 
route. If you can't get one. Wait. Just hyperventilate again for 
another two minutes and then try it. Suction is critical if he
vomits from his chemical exposure. Be sure to watch out
for that."
---------------------------------------------------------------------
Stoker's jaw set into a firm line. He didn't even notice
a hose dripping Chet insert himself between Marco and 
his arms to start applying crycoid pressure. "I got
this. And a flashlight so you can see what you're doing.."
Kelly coughed and he threaded his second gloved arm 
through Mike's hands to light up Gage's face.

Marco had already placed an engine block under
Gage's shoulders to keep his head fallen back.

"Are you hurt?" Stoker asked Kelly, without looking up 
from the blade of the scope he was placing carefully into
the right side of Johnny's mouth. "Give me the time."

"Twenty eight seconds since the last breath. And no..." 
Chet said. "Just handle Johnny. L.A. says that 24's 
four minutes away. Can you see them yet?" he
mumbled through his breathing gear as he kept
up the hold that now showed Mike the only 
passageway down.

Stoker's forehead began to sweat. "Where are they?"
he whispered to himself, moving the strangely 
foamy palate away with his blade, searching for the 
pearly white vocal cords. Louder he said, "Marco, hand 
me a size 7.0 and peel it.  D*mn.. Grade 2, I'm not seeing 
all the cords, he's swelling a bit.."

"Take your time, man. Gage's ok, his color's still very 
good." Lopez said quietly. "Here. I got it near your left 
hand."

Mike slid the MacIntosh blade a little lower and
groped for the endotracheal tube. Suddenly,
Johnny's throat locked up and clamped shut.
His mouth fell open in an astonished "oh.." that
translated into the handy talkie.

##What's the problem, 51?## came Brackett's
voice.

"Spasm.. It happened when I lifted the scope. I
can't see anything.." Mike said a little too fast.

##Relax, Stoker. You must've bumped the superior
nerve. It'll ease in a bit since he's not chilled. You guys
haven't given him his hose bath yet. Just bag him
gently on ambu until it loosens. Bound to from hypoxia.
Flood him with O2 and try again.## Kel said firmly.
##We've plenty of time..##

"Should I let go?" Chet said of his pressure hold.

"No..." Mike said. "You're probably keeping him from
getting sick. Don't want him aspirating. Keep his
esophagus sealed off just like you're doing."

Kelly was nervous and took the suction wand up
into his free hand nonetheless. Gage's chin twitched.
"Is he waking?"

"Nah. Doc said it's all reflex in class." Mike gasped as he
kept a cross fingers scissor between Johnny's
teeth to keep him from injuring himself on the blade's
guide.

##Try pulling back a little, 51.## Dr. Brackett said.
##There'll be less stimulus..##

Mike eased back just a bit and withdrew the blade up
an inch and suddenly, a vocal cord popped into view when 
Gage's neck muscles stopped cording. "There! I'm 
threading it." he announced with more confidence than
he felt. He tried to keep his hands from trembling.

Kelly looked at his watch. "52 seconds."

Stoker slowly advanced the tube until it settled
onto its mark. "I'm in." he said. "Hand me the 
ambu.." he said, inflating the airway's internal bottom
cuff with a syringe.

Marco grabbed for it, making sure the oxygen flow
was very high and passed it off to Mike.

Stoker snapped the bag's feeder end onto the tube and
gasped. "Ok.. Check both sides. Is it all right?" he asked
quickly, giving the paramedic rapid, full breaths to
get his blood back to normal.

Kelly listened with a stethoscope. "He sounds like a
seashell to me. Nice and even, too. Left is the same 
as right."

"Stomach?"##Stomach?##" Stoker asked at the same time as
Brackett.

"Nothing.."  Kelly smiled, grinning as he pulled
off the earpieces.

##Nice work gentlemen.. Keep an eye on his pulse
and then slow your vent rate to 12 a minute in 30 seconds.
Tape it off to keep the tube from sliding out when you transport
him.## Dr. Brackett smiled verbally.

"I got that." Marco volunteered. He looked over his shoulder.
"Cap, he's pink and beautiful and both lungs are accepting." he 
shouted. "There's no problems at all.."
 
Hank visibly relaxed and stopped double taking as he issued
orders to the security guards on where to tell people to go.

Kelly left the suction tube laying over Gage's chest and rose
from knees to his squatting toes. "Radio me if he changes. I'm 
sure Cap'll want us by him if that happens." he said smacking 
his own chest and waving a hand at an already distracted Marco 
Lopez.

"Go.. I'm good now.." Stoker said, inwardly smiling at his
success. "Piece of cake." he said shakily.

Chet had to peel his fingers off Gage's throat crycoid cartilage
ring with his free glove. "Just call me a leech. Sorry, Gage."

"Worth the bruising. I'm sure Johnny won't mind when he
finds out what we all did together." Mike said.

"I don't want Gage or DeSoto's job anytime soon, thanks
anyways, Stoker."

"Yeah, but it's nice to know we're effective backup."
Stoker nodded, dropping a glove to Gage's carotid
to time its rate.

Stoker watched Chet Kelly join Hank as he tried once
again to raise Roy's Mayfair, this time, using the ambulance
radio frequency and not the HT's.

A minute later, Squad 24's sirens grew in the distance and
two paramedics swiftly approached where Mike and Gage were
in the street. The older paramedic pointed down when he saw
that Gage was intubated so neatly. "Who did this?" he demanded
through his SCBA faceplate.

"I did.." Stoker grinned. "My first."

The graying maned man's eyebrows climbed into his hairline
but a knowing smile played at his lips as he and his
partner busied themselves with getting a full set of vitals.
"Ok, genius. Congratulations. Now go play fireman and leave US
something to do, ok, Slick?"

Mike Stoker floated back to Cap's side.

--------------------------------------------------------

Photos :   None.

***********************************************
From :  Cory Anda <andacory@hotmail.com> 
Sent :  Saturday, July 24, 2004 12:58 AM 
Subject :  The Lit Match Effect 
 
 
"Is he doing good?" Captain Stanley asked his two men
who joined him to stand in a trio as the flood of people
poured out city hall exhibiting a rainbow of emotions.
None were tempted to ask the firemen the reason for
their sudden eviction from work. 

"His pulse was regular, and full, Cap. I think so.
Won't know until the squad paramedics get done
checking him out." Mike Stoker admitted.

"Fine, fine. Go string two inch and three quarters with
a Y connector. Let's play this like Hazmat's gonna wanna
scrub everyone in sight." Hank ordered, clapping a glove
over his engineer's shoulder. "Nice job, pal." he said
seriously. "Sorry you were thrown into the deep end as
paramedic intermediate so soon.."

"I'm just glad I was there, Cap." Stoker said, rechecking
the dial on his air bottle to make sure his own supply wasn't
low because of the heightened stress level he had felt then.

"Go.." Hank said, waving Mike off. Kelly started to follow
Mike to help when Cap whistled, getting his attention. Chet whirled
and then spotted Cap waggling come here fingers with his 
command HT still pressed tightly over his helmeted ear 
around his mask straps. "Kelly. Front and center!"

Kelly had on a new jacket that he got from the rear
compartment of the Ward. He jogged over to Hank
and rested, bending over with his hands on his knees
as he listened to what he had to say when Cap leaned
in close.

"I still can't raise Roy. We gotta get em back here pronto.
I'm not about to let possibly contaminated people into a 
hospital setting."

"What about that man's care?" Chet said before he could
bite his tongue and retract it back again.

"We'll call the docs here, into the Rehab Area when it's set up.
Keep trying for me.. The other engines are arriving, I have to
go tell them and the chiefs what's going on here." Cap shouted.

"Ok." and he took out his handy talkie and turned it to the same
frequency that Cap showed him.

Hank ran to the middle of the street, orchestrating the arriving 
engine companies parking formation. He sent them to the ends
of the block on both sides of his Ward, which was positioned 
centrally.  Then he heard the tones from L.A. to change to
the situation commander's frequency for Batallion Ten and did
so.

Chet Kelly moved to set a foot on the step of the engine near
where Stoker and Lopez were tending the hydrant outside city hall
and he spoke. "Engine 51 to HT 51 on Mayfair Channel One. Over."

On the highway, speeding down the Ventura Expressway, the
driver of Roy's ambulance heard. He thumbed the mic on his
CB radio. "Mayfair Six with Squad 51." 

Kelly glommed onto the connection. "Recall back to our scene
Mayfair Six, Code Three. Your victim and paramedic 
may have been exposed to hazardous chemicals. Report for 
immediate decontamination.  Hazmat is arranging a doctor to
cover your situation at our location. Over.."

"10-4. Recalling for Hazmat decon.." said the white coated driver
and he made a controlled U-ie off the next major exit.

Naturally, Roy DeSoto opened the patient compartment window
between them. "What's the problem?"

"It's one of your people, declaring a Hazmat condition on us.
I'm heading back right now." the driver told Roy.

DeSoto oggled for a second, then nodded and shut the partition to
sit back down in the cab seat at the man's head. His patient was quiet now, 
Dr. Early's diazepam having done wonders for his convulsions. Having 
been warned, Roy began to rinse his hands from a saline bag before
donning protective rubber gloves for himself. Sorely wanting information,
he switched his HT to the paramedic scanning frequency to listen in.

He was shocked to find Squad 24 talking about a Code I and when
Brackett called Johnny by name, Roy almost slipped out of his
seat belt. They weren't yet using the biophone channel which didn't 
surprise him due to the new crisis situation preventing such a luxury. 
He hung on every word. He began to curse the benefit of the
HT private band call, which handily allowed identities to be named 
over the air.

##.. 24, is Gage showing signs of consciousness yet?##
Kel Brackett asked.

##Negative, Rampart, despite the hosedown. ## replied the
man Roy recognized as Brice's partner, Bob Belliveau.

## Has he started breathing adequately on his own yet?..##

##Negative, he's still on ET ambu. ##

"What?!!" Roy exclaimed aloud. The window into the driver's
compartment snapped open. "Nothin.." he snarled when
the attendant peered in at him.The driver shrugged and closed 
the slot again.

Roy kept his eyes on the EKG monitor and his ear to the radio
when he heard the order given for Narcan and Atropine.
"Yeah,..yeah, that'll do it. Even if it's a pesticide or something just
as bad." he mumbled. "Johnny you better start breathing again 
or I'll kill ya."

His self reassurance did nothing to make him feel better.
He could only will the Mayfair on to a faster speed.

-----------------------------------------------------------------------------

Kelly shouted loudly to be heard over the crowd moving
away from them. "HO!" he yelled, getting Cap's attention.

Hank rubbernecked.  Chet drew a circling motion in the air
and saw Cap give him a thumbs up before he started speaking
with the CIS commander again about plans.

Soon, the out of service Squad 51 was moved to a side street 
and Captain Stanley motioned his men into a huddle so they
could hear each other. "Thank god for the public's tendency
to overreact. Fortune's in our favor, gang. The yokles in
city hall security not only cleared out the effected floor but the
whole place. You three sweep in and see if you can locate 
the source of the problem in lifelines."  Kelly, Lopez and Stoker
started away but Cap snagged their shoulders. 
"With FRESH air bottles, understood?"

Three masked nods greeted him.

"This is an internal search until we know more. Do this hoseless.
Stringing them'll only eat up too much time. Pull out at the 
slightest sign of trouble, got that?"

More nods and furlative glances swept toward the now empty 
tan brick building.

Cap said, "We're the only station in the middle of the block.
The others have squared off on all points north, south, 
and east of us for the primary attack set up. Only Squad 24 is still 
with us until Johnny's stabilized. Everyone else is on a block end. 
Move."

Lopez, Stoker and Kelly strung out rappelling ropes from the Engine's
store and tied them on. All three entered the building and began a
search pattern, starting with the second floor office where they had
first encountered the man. Nothing seemed amiss. Then Lopez got
everyone's focus with a whistle when he spotted a stairwell door
ajar that led into a no exit basement, incongruent with the possibility
that any evacuees could have used it. "That's open guys. Don't you
think that's a little odd?" he yelled over the hissing of his air bottle.

The other two agreed. And followed him down the brightly lit stairs
which led into the sub basement.

They searched the boiler room. It was clear. Then the electrical room.
It, too, was fine. Then they tried a storage room labelled Spare Mail
Store and found it barricaded shut despite the open lock turning
door knob. Kelly shouldered it wide open and staggered into a room
full of homemade chemical laboratory equipment. Excessive trash 
including large amounts of antifreeze containers, lantern fuel cans, 
red chemically stained coffee filters, drain cleaners and duct tape 
littered the floor and the stench of acetone was almost overwhelming,
even through their faceplates. The tables were a collection of chemical 
bottles, glassware, hoses, and pressurized cylinders, including modified 
propane tanks, and stolen city hall fire extinguishers. 

Chet took one look at the blacked out basement windows before he said. 
"It's a g*d d*mned crank lab in here."

"Should we go air it out?" Lopez asked him.

Stoker snatched them both back into the doorway. "No! There's
cooking going on. Look! I'll just bet that stuff over there's red phosphorus
and iodine! Let's get out of here.." and he pointed out the ominous 
glow of an active open flame bunsen burner.

The three firefighters suddenly knew that their lives were in
great danger. Kelly almost thumbed his radio to give a report when
Marco slammed his arm down. "Don't! A spark from your HT might set
it all off! Let's go!"

Chet went.

The firemen pummelled out of city hall at breakneck speed and down
the front steps a minute later shouting the bad news. Their panic spread
through the fire station ranks and they looked up at the motion and
sudden voices.

Cap was charting his slate by the engine. 

Stoker shouted. "Get back! Get back! Meth lab and it's still cooking!"

Hank startled and ducked behind the engine as his men joined him.
"What?! "

"It's huge, Cap.." Marco gasped, leaning down. "We guess over
a half a ton of ingredients and white gas."

"We'd better get out of here. Stoker. Drop our hoses from the bed.
We'll motor out to the other units on Big Red." Hank said calmly.
He whistled through his teeth. "Man, who'd've figured? In the middle
of sweet little old downtown city of Carson?"  He raised the engine's 
mic to call out their discovery to the HazMat units yet to come
and the fire stations already there.

----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------


Roy began to recognize the neighborhood. He tapped the window
door and it opened. "Let's head to the west side. That's where my
station was. Most likely they've been picked to be the decontam wash
truck, being nearest. Head down that way.." 

The driver turned down a sidestreet and turned off his siren, finally
spotting the familiar side of the stately building. 

Squad 51 and Squad 24 were still angled at the foot of the city hall
steps. And a body was on the ground on a yellow tarp with a cluster
of air bottled firemen over him ::Johnny!:: Roy thought. Then he
ordered. "Stop here. They're in masks. We don't wanna take in any 
fumes if there are any.." he cautioned, and the brakes of the
Mayfair squeaked metallically as it halted in the center of the road
perpendicular to the road the fire trucks were on.

Then Roy spotted something strange. Engine 51 was speeding backwards,
and away from the squads whose personnel suddenly kicked into high
gear in a desperate escape with their firefighter paramedic patient in a 
stokes, some running with him, the others piling into the two rescue 
squads. 

 DeSoto was about to turn his radio back over to the main CIS channel to find
out why, when city hall suddenly disintegrated into fragments of raw fire and 
a plume of glowing vapored debris.

A tremendous explosion ripped across two whole city blocks, rupturing subterranean
gas mains and causing side explosions to crater the street curbs into long
flaming fissured trenches deep into the earth.

A pregnant fiery orange and black mushroom loomed a hellish head
over the Mayfair, Engine 51's vehicles and Squad 24, before Roy's vision was 
knocked out from a massive concussion wall of displaced atmosphere and heat 
that roared through the open ambulance door. 

The kick slammed the rear Mayfair hatch closed and the ambulance jolted,
throwing around the two ambulance attendants,  Roy and the man
on the gurney.

Then a heavy blanket of debris, dust and roaring fire snuffed out their view
to the outside as it covered them, until they were locked into a tomb that
was completely lightless and airless.

-------------------------------------------------------------------

Photo :   A neighborhood in Carson City, skyline.

Photo :  A photo of a collapsed building with a crowd in front.

Photo :  Cap ducking behind the engine in a flinch.

Photo : A massive mushrooming explosion.

Photo: Roy and two ambulance attendants wounded in
            a Mayfair.

***************************************************************
 From :  patti keiper <pattik1@hotmail.com> 
 Subject :  [EmergencyTheaterLive] Out of the Frying Pan and Into the Cooler.. 
 Sent :  Thursday, July 29, 2004 7:49 AM 

Mike Stoker managed to swing the front end of the Ward away 
from the concussive wave of the methamphetamine lab explosion 
that destroyed Carson City Hall.  His gloved hands cranked on
the wheel hard to the left as the swollen belly of the building sized
fire ball swept low over the top of Engine 51.  

The engineer couldn't help it. He flinched. So did Chet, Marco,
and Cap.

"Hang on!" Hank's voice cut loudly, as a rock on rock, hollow like sucking
roar overtook their immediate vicinity. All he saw was fire out the
windows. Then a ball of heat lifted the hair around his helmet and
ruffled it and fogged out his air mask as the dew point was met,
exceeded, then water dessicated. ::Mother of--  I hope to h*ll the 
others got under some cover in time.::  

Marco Lopez instinctively pulled the four of them around Stoker's
driver's seat in a body hugging huddle that protected their exposed 
faces as the massive blast blossomed, expanded and annihilated
itself over them. "Madre Dios! Too close. Too close! We've got
to get out of here!"

"Working on it.." came Mike's gasping voice through his SCBA.
The firetruck's engine was laboring over the thin air, sputtering as
the motor dug for atmosphere to burn in. Stoker kicked it into
the lowest gear. "The air's a different color over there. Heading 
over to it!"

"Ahh! Keep your masks on!" Kelly said. "An empty water bottle by my 
feet just blew up!"

"Vacuum effect! Open your mouths up as wide as you can!" Hank 
shouted to his crew, clutching the handy talkie he couldn't see
in the lava glow darkness. Captain Stanley no sooner said that
when a second explosion rocked the accelerating Ward from
the left and pressure stabbed spears of agony through their
eardrums.

Then the way ahead was clear. A center calm in a ring of fire
at an intersection. Mike Stoker took the richer air route and
plunged them all into a parking lot, bouncing over a curb with
both axles. Equipment inside the cab jostled, and fell from
their storage hooks. Others did the same, clanging loudly 
from inside their rear engine holding compartments.

"There! There! A loading dock is open!" Kelly shouted.

"Can we clear it?" Hank yelled, gripping the dark red seat back
in a fierce hold.

"Yeah!"

"Then in we go!  Watch for Squads 24 and 51. They were 
riding in our wake."

"I see em!" Chet shouted. Two sets of flashing lights cut
through the orange cloudy murk before a roof of black
shut out the sun.

A sign flashed by that was tacked onto the building and Hank
gave a nod of satisfaction as they shot inside the loading area.
"Of all the dumb luck.."

Mike Stoker screeched Engine 51's brakes inside the low ceiling
garage and he canted her at a forty five, so that the two squads
could get by into the interior.

The last bumper no sooner cleared the edge of the door when
the retracting door descended in a bang as an emergency cord
was pulled on the door's automatic opener.  The ebony smoke
and deafening noise roiling in behind them was choked off.  

A new voice and figure in medical blue came running towards
them. "Are you guys all right? Oh my G*d. We saw City Hall go
through our windows. It was only by chance that I spotted you."
said the very fit white haired man before their bumpers.

Cap peeled off a sweaty mask as they piled out of the engine,
catching their breaths. "Appreciate the shelter, doc. Help us?
"We've got a wounded firefighter here..." he said, pointing to
the paramedic on the roof of Squad 24, checking over Gage's
airway patency and carotid status as he bagged him.

Doctor Scribbs hastened to help the Station 51 four unload 
him to the ground. 

Chet was peeling off his mask, too, staring dumbly at
the mattressless steel gurneys lined up on the wall and
the sparkling black hearse parked under the flourescent
lights. "Aw, Cap.. Didja have to pick the morgue for us
to hide in?"

Hank erupted, "I didn't think of in here! Stoker did.."

"Guilty.." said the engineer, coughing lightly.

"And a smart thing, too. " Hank grinned.  The ME office has its
own internal air and ventilation system, at least in the morgue
areas. That's where we'll be heading next. In there will
be the perfect decontam station for Gage. Scrubbing drains,
solid thick walls, a refrigeration unit so we won't cook. We
couldn't have found a better haven than this. We'll even
have our own power generator. This place needs one to 
keep the chiller running at all times for obvious reasons."

Chet's face fell into a barely veiled blend of disgust and 
apprehension. But he bit his tongue from issuing any rejoiners.

Station 24's Bob Belliveau nodded at Gil Sheppard, his partner. 
"Did he take any detriment, Gil?" he asked about Gage.

"Nah.. it was hot only for a few seconds." said the short stocky
paramedic. "His vents never quit although I had to snuff the oxygen
off. The two assigned with us from our engine are fine, too." he said,  jerking 
a gloved thumb over his shoulder at the men gathered around Captain 
Stanley. He yelled over to the tall man from 51's, issuing information into 
his radio. "That's everyone who was with us, Cap!" he related. Then 
he stooped to reassess John Gage in a closer survey, reapplying his own
air bottle's faceplate before he did so, maintaining a barrier distance.

"Nine for a head count and all here.Thanks." Cap proceeded to report 
out to outer fringe fire stations that had most likely seen them horrifically
disappear under the fire ball.  "L.A., Engine 51. We're ok. Squad
51 and Squad 24 are with us inside the Medical Examiner's Office
Garage. All hands are accounted for. One victim and eight men.
We're sitting tight to wait it out. Note we're in a very safe place.
Make our break out priority a bit less."

##10-4, Engine 51. The Incident Commander on Foster Ave has
been notified. Battalion asks if you are attack capable. ##

"Not known at this time. My engineer's doing a walk around. Stand by."

##Standing by, Engine 51. Your frequency is being relayed to
the CIC. Transmit at need after the open channel prompt.##

"Copy, L.A." Hank said, leaning heavily on his knees as
he swept his eyes over the firemen spreading out through
the garage bay to make sure the raging fire outside wasn't
coming in.  Soon, the triple treble of an on air signal sounded
from all their HT's. "Sounds like they're linked with us out there. 
Now let's see how we're doing in here. Stoker? Is she intact?"
he asked as he carefully felt the chassis of the Ward for heat
and blistering. He kicked a tire.

Mike's hands flew over the chrome controls.
"Yes, the hoses weren't melted and the panel's showing
green on all dials. Neither of our tanks are reading as 
compromised. Fuel or water."

"Then hook her up to the water main over there." he said pointing
to the emergency stairwell leading up to second level of
the county building. Stoker could just see a fire hose accordianed
on hooks in the landing behind glass. "Use their lines for now."
Cap ordered.

"I'll leave them uncharged until we know what side of the building
we're going to attack from."

"How about from the roof?" Hank suggested. "That's where
the spot fires will be and that's well above the street gas line
ruptures. I'll just bet the CIC has a vertical attack already
planned out. I'll radio out in a few minutes to see if our building's in
the Hot Zone, not counting whatever space Gage will end up in."

Five minutes later, the task was done. A long, inch and three quarters
soon noodled neatly on the concrete floor. 

Right then, the garage door sucked out in a convex bow with
a loud smack of aluminum as the air inside the coroner's
building evacuated violently out to the fire outside. The door
groaned at the stresses being applied to it. But it held admirably.

"Everybody inside! We're out of time in our current spot.." Cap.
"That's probably a backflash encroaching. Grab what you can. 
We'll come back to fight the fire only when we're able."

"What about the spare air bottles, Cap?" Kelly asked.

"Grab just the 02 tanks for Gage." he replied. "And anything
else that's critical for triage. Later we may become a disaster
station. Doc, right now, consider us all contaminated.
Gage got into an unknown chemical exposure from a meth
lab. It was in the spare mail room in the basement of city hall."

Scribbs face opened in shock, then anger. "A crank lab
was operating five hundred feet away from here? That's 
appalling!"

"That's what I thought when Lopez and Kelly and Stoker here
found it." he smiled sadly. 

The fire fighters gathered both squads' medical equipment in
a rapid assembly line into the stairwell as the two still masked 
medics carried Gage into the morgue rooms one level up.

Chet Kelly wasn't one with Johnny's litter and he needed a strong shove
from Marco before he entered the suite, his eyes huge. "T--T-There's 
bodies in here.."

"No kidding, Chet. Out of the way. Or better yet, take this biophone
over to where Belliveau and Sheppard are setting up. They're
gonna need it."

Hank grabbed the medical examiner's arm after he was certain
that the doctor was the last one to enter the suite of rooms.
"Listen, doc. Is your staff upstairs, safe?"

"Oh yes.." said Scribbs. "I shooed them out the front doors
the moment it happened. They're all past the perimeter. It's just
me my clients left now." and he shot meaningful eyes over
to several sheet shrouded forms lying on tables at the far
end of the room.

Cap worked a miracle keeping his expression from changing.

Doc Scribbs chuckled at the curly haired fireman's reactions. 
"I only lagged behind to make sure the fire didn't get to them. 
That's why I was about to close the bay door when you and your 
singed bunch showed up. Welcome to my parlor, boys. Let's get 
down to business now, shall we?" he said as he swung the morgue's
protective heavy metal door shut with an echoey bang. "I've showers 
for everyone."

All the firefighters shuddered.

"We can set your young injured fireman here on the main table. 
We can do him first." said the energetic medical examiner.

Kelly peeped. "But, there's somebody already on that table.."

"That's all right. " Scribbs trickled. "I'm sure you two strong
fellas can manage carrying her back to the cooler. I  finished
her autopsy this morning. I'll just neaten up after a bit
before you transfer your friend out of the stokes. Oh, here. 
Let me open the cooler door for you."

Kelly and Lopez gulped.

Cap's face was about as pale as his mens'. "You heard
the man. Move.."

They went, shifting the grisly burden in their arms, ready to
lift her weight.

"Doc, we don't have to worry about anything.. uh, any
bits tumbling out, do we?"

"Oh, no. I sewed her back up again. I used just a lazy S
incision for a standard weighing."

"Oh,... thanks.." said Lopez in a small voice as they hefted
her up and disappeared with her into the dark chiller.

"Boys.. " shouted Scribbs after them. "Don't forget to put
one of the wooden blocks from the shelf under her head so she'll 
hard-- uh, present on a pillow in her coffin properly later on."

There was no reply to that.

The doc began cheerfully whistling at the novelty of having guests
who could talk back for once. 

The paramedics busied themselves with stripping Johnny down
when the doc was ready, for a thorough warm, soap and water
head to toe scouring. Afterwards, they bundled him up in the only 
thing available for insulation.  They put him inside a clean canvas 
cloth body bag. 

Cap excused himself from the proceedings once he felt Gage's
medical and hazmat care were well underhand and he drew Stoker
aside a few minutes later after hearing about a frightening development.
"Mike, go to the window and see if you can spot Roy's ambulance."

"What?!" Stoker startled, remember the h*ll they had just escaped.

Cap imposed an immediate clamp down.
"Now, don't alarm the others. Everyone's jumpy enough as it is 
with us being cooped up in here for the duration with all the cadavers.
Just do a reconnaissance from what you see. If you do spot him.
We'll be going out there so prepare yourself. We'll do the engine later.
No doubt we'll be testing the limits of the Ward's design specs when
and if it comes time for us to go back out there. No one asked how a 
Ward engine would work from INSIDE a flaming holocaust."

Mike nodded and quietly went over to the small port and sat down
with a pair of binoculars from the brush fire apparatus case
and got right down to an intense search.

Belliveau noticed him, for another reason. "How's the view?"
he said, looking up from Gage's EKG monitor.

Stoker said, "Busy. But it looks like the perimeter's been
determined. All the fires I see are roof points only, a few
cars involved. The subterranean gas mains are off. I don't see
any more explosions from the street curbs. Ah,, there's
an aerial now. Looks like they've been assigned to protect
us."  On cue, the window splattered with a few drops of
cool water, hissing as it fell. "And that means, that few
bystanders or motorists got nailed when the lab blew."

"That's a relief.."

Stoker returned a glance at the two paramedics. "How's
Gage doing?"

"Better. Vitals are improving. His pressure's coming up.
Whatever it was that was suppressing them is gone now.
Though I'd wish to heck that I knew what it was that we're 
dealing with."

"I'll try to find out." Stoker said, raising his HT.

The older medic turned away.

Mike went back to fretting about finding the missing Mayfair.

A handful of minutes later, he spotted an incongruent patch of
white and orange with a broken antennae sticking lopsidedly
above it. "Cap.." he motioned, pointing.

Hank moved to the engineer's side and took up the binoculars.
"That's him. Go shower up and meet us in the stairwell, in
full SCBA. You're the last to get one. I'll have the others 
check out the garage to see if it's still safe down there."

Stoker nodded.

---------------------------------------------------------------

Dripping and clean, the six non medic firefighters made their
way back to street level. There, Hank broke the news of the
discovery of Roy's buried ambulance on the street between them
and where city hall used to be. 

"Is he still alive?" Chet asked. "There was no air out there for a while!"
he panicked.

Cap raised appeasing hands. "We don't know. Stoker saw their
radio antennae but it was split."

"What about the biophone?" Marco asked, more calmly than
Chet.

"Out for the same reason." Cap answered. "Now check your air masks.
Switch out for fresh ones once we get down there. Stoker, charge
the stairwell water hose into the engine as a supply line. We'll take the
one you strung earlier with us when we go."

"Well, what are you waiting for?!" Kelly said. "Roy and everybody will
fry if we move any slower. Come on..."

Hank told Battalion the new situation and their plan of action.
He was told that the aerial on the other side of the building had no way
to move in as backup. 

They were on their own, working off E-51, solo.

A quick survey showed that a down draft between the sky scrapers
was creating a clear circle of air that pushed the ring of fire inside the
crater where city hall used to be away from the coroner's office parking 
lot. 

Mike Stoker shared the good news, "The way's open and workable."
he said through the crack of the warp bulged garage door. 

The fully SCBA'd firefighters set to with tools and axes to knock down 
the only barrier between them and the debris covered Mayfair under 
Stoker's cooling hose fan. He made them halt at the opening while he
shot a stream into a pile of debris in a test. No hissing or discolored
gases reacted to the water raining down on it. "Whatever was in
that lab, Cap. It's not volatile to water out this far."

"Good. Last thing we need is more outgassing." he said remembering
Chet's stinging eyes from before. "Let's advance ten feet and start
picking away this debris with pikes. Watch for power lines. Odegard!
Take over Mike's lead. I'm having him take out the Engine behind us as
we advance!"

The way before them wasn't easy. Shards of glass from the explosion
damaged windows above them constantly rained down on them and
wind blown bits of burning roof material. Foot by foot, they neared the 
place where Stoker said the Mayfair lay buried.

 A tumbled burning billboard sign sliced the supply line in two when it 
impacted the pavement and the stairwell side of the hose started bucking 
around the garage door frame opening. The half feeding the engine, went limp 
and useless, tattered and dragging on the ground.

"Leave it!" Cap ordered. "We'll pull just off the engine's tank for now.
Our recovery push has the priority!" Inside, he wondered. ::Just how
long can our 400 gallon water reservoir last in all this heat? Guess 
we're gonna find out.::

===================================================

Roy DeSoto coughed, shaking himself awake. The first thing he did
was give an order to Malcolm, the attendant in the back with him, "Shut off all
the oxygen! Do it now!" he said, groping around the spilled medical 
supplies around him for a flashlight. Roy could see active fire licking
the back windows. He flicked on the torch to find them sitting
on the side wall of the ambulance, the gurney still latch clamped
to the floor with his patient hanging there from his straps. Not surprisingly,
the man was awake. "Get me out of here! I'm gonna fall...*cough* "
moaned the man.

"The main valve's off.." Malcolm told Roy, cradling a broken arm.

"You sure?"

"Yeah. I just bled the regulator by feel. It's dead." the ambulance
attendant assured him. 

Roy nodded at Malcolm's injury but the rippled haired man 
waved him off. "Check on Art. I haven't heard him at all yet."


Reaching out in the darkness, DeSoto found the yellow air bottle that
he had taken with him in his haste to leave for Rampart. It was
something he always did in brush fire season. Just to have it
between his knees, even riding inside the squad within city limits.
Now, it was going to pay him dividends. He slipped into its mask.

Roy suppressed his own fear and ignored the cut he felt throbbing on his
forehead. "We're gonna be fine." he told them both. Then he pinned
a stare at his patient, who was ripping off his EKG pads and wires. 
" I'll deal with you after I check out our driver, ok, mister....." he dug 
for information.

"..Smith..." said the worker evasively. " John B. Smith. " when he 
realized by the outside lab smell filtering in to him on just what his 
current situation was. "Let me outta here now!"

"Mr. Smith... Quit thrashing around. Malcolm's gonna free you.
Now we're much safer in here than we'll be out there so just
relax.  Let me get by to the front. You hurt anywhere?" he asked 
him. The man's head shake answered back. "Good. 
Now just hang tight for a sec. Art?! You ok up there?" DeSoto said 
pounding on the narrow peek window of the ambulance.  He
opened it.

A wall of bitter, burning smoke rushed in and all Roy got was a glimpse 
of spidered glass, twisted metal and blood where the front end of the 
Mayfair used to be.

The cab was completely flattened and so was the roof, right
over where Art had once been sitting behind the wheel. A person 
shaped charcoal colored mass fully on fire lay across the seat now.

DeSoto slammed the window shut with a gasp. His look told
Malcolm all he needed to know.

"What's that new smell?" complained their impatient patient. 
" I think I'm going to be sick." 

 Roy  covered his nose and mouth with a hand to hide
his stunned reaction. "Try to breathe slow, Mr. Smith. You're only
going to pass out again if you keep hyperventilating. How do you
feel?"

"How am I supposed to feel? Like sh*t! Now, I-- I-m trapped
in what looks like an ambulance that got caught when our
crystal meth cookery blew up. And here we are tipped ov--" 
Mr. Smith broke off when he realized what he was saying.

Roy's eyes narrowed as he took a pull off his air mask,
handing it to Malcolm so that he could breathe in a clean lungful.
" Mr. Smith. Am I hearing you right? Now I believe you better start 
levelling with me right now. A lot of lives are in danger from that 
noxious mess that you and your chem cooking buddies created
so carelessly. Now, the hazmat team handling this's gonna haveta 
know what main ingredients you were using and how much!"

"Ain't gonna talk without my lawyer." the shifty man said flatly
with only a little intelligence. "I'm choking here. Give me some
air like you're giving him."

"No, you're contaminated with something that I don't know about.
I don't wanna increase the risk to Malcolm and I by sharing with 
you." DeSoto replied quietly.

"Just what kind of paramedic are you withholding care from me?!
I'll tell my lawyer. Just how would you like a charge of malpractice on
your hands Fireman DeSoto.." he glared, reading Roy's dusty name
tag. "And I'll charge your friend here, too. He shut off my oxygen."
And Mr. Smith reached for the valve that would turn on the flow
to the mask hanging around his neck.

Roy tackled his arm away. "There's fire out there! Are you sick or
something?!"

The man nodded animatedly, yanking out his I.V. with a jerk and folding
his arm up. "Ummm Hmm and crazy.. Why do you think I staggered
into the supe's office and collapsed on the floor? I was feeling lousy. 
Mac mixed something that wasn't pure."  Again the bald headed lanky
druggie clamped a hand over his mouth to silence himself.
He immediately started coughing when the stench from the forward
cab began to leak through the cracked window. "Come on! You guys
are already contaminated from touching me because of the way
we're all pretzeled together around this gurney. Gimme some air, I--I'm
..*gag* choking on the dead guy.."

Roy's mouth pressed into a firm line as he took his turn to suck on
his SCBA tank mask.  "Not until you give me a list of everything in 
that lab, starting with the largest quantity medium first."

--------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
The six firemen watched the fires raging above them intently. The
sky had grown grayer. They first thought it was smoke but soon 
it proved to be a rare California cloud burst. 

The rain fell but was evaporated before it hit the ground in front of
them and the fire started from the building debris began 
igniting a cocoon of fire around them and the engine.

"Into the cab! Into the cab! Now!" Cap shouted. "Get up onto
the hose bed if you have to. Kelly, Lopez ! Knock that down
before we burn!"

Two of the firemen climbed onto the roof as Stoker advanced
Engine 51 ahead. The moment the way was clear and just
steaming, they leaped onto the Mayfair patient compartment.

Hank was just as fast on HT as he was on his feet. He joined
24's men on pounding on the skin of the ambulance. "Roy!
Can you hear me?" he shouted into the HT on Roy's band.

Muffled solid pounds answered back to their great relief.

Three times, the swirling fire igniting the debris in the parking 
lot threatened the ambulance while a K-12 split open the shell 
encasing Roy and the others before Kelly and Lopez's single line
pushed it back again.

"Benzene, Cap!.. Gage got into benzene!" said, Roy thrusting
a rumpled bill of lading through the sizzling gap. "He had 
this in his pocket. The whole damned * choke* list."

"Got it.. Radioing it out." Then Cap was back reaching into
the hole for Roy's arm. "You guys ok in there?" said Cap quickly. 
"We already know about the driver. Any back or neck injuries?"
he said while his men worked to fold back the skin.

"Malcolm's got a broken arm. Just get us out of here.."
Roy said. "How's Johnny?"

"He's doing ok. Stoker intubated him."

"What?! Any complications? I mean.. d- did it work?"
DeSoto said as he was pulled outside. 

"Course it worked! I'm Brackett's star pupil remember?"
Mike grinned enthusiastically from inside the idling Ward. 

Then the water ran out and his smile faded instantly.

"Our welcome's just got jaded pal. Ready to move?
Side fires are pressing in, Roy." Hank said.

DeSoto crouched down looking back through the
hole in the Mayfair as 24's men hoisted an arm splinted
Malcolm out. "Yeah. But our crook's not cooperating. He
said he wanted to stay in there when you guys showed up."

"Oh really..." Cap said glowering.

A ladder hook to the shirt collar soon fished the reluctant
patient out.  Malcolm and Mr. Smith were given SCBAs
to wear and everyone climbed onto the Ward's hose bed
as the fire mounted around them.

"Go! Stoker Go!" Cap said, as he smacked the roof of the engine
cab. "Back to the garage. Ram the billboard clutter out of 
the way if you have to. Just get us back inside in one piece!"

Stoker reversed direction after Kelly and Lopez cast off the useless
hose. The tires on the engine began to smoulder as she was moved
slower and slower due to reduced visibility.

Mike Stoker shouted. "I don't think the engine can take much 
more of this, Captain!"

"She's gonna have to!" Hank said, huddling down with the rest
of them on top over the injured Malcolm and the blubbering Mr.
Smith. "Put the pedal to the metal, Pal, even on rims!"

Everybody swatted cinders landing on everybody else for
long seconds. Then a current of white frothy liquid from an 
unexpected source covered them in a drenching cold deluge. 
A team of fire fighters using alcohol foam from the roof of a 
nearby house coated Engine 51 and put out her fires.

The Ward swept into the morgue garage moments after.

Soon, it was back into hiding for all of them while the Carson
City fire raged on.

-------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Photos :    The Hazmat placard for benzene.

Photo :     Cap and another cap near engine. 

Photo :     Cap, Roy and Johnny lowering stokes.

Photo :     A building fire being attacked by foam hoses.

Photo :    Roy, livid with a face cut.

Photo :   Blood on a shattered windshield.

Photo :  A picture of an empty morgue room.

Photo :  A picture of a morgue cooler.

Photo : Chet looking apprehensive in an exam mirror.

***********************************************************
Date: Thu, 5 Aug 2004 10:37:09 -0700 (PDT) 
From: "Patti or Jeff or Cassidy" <theaterhost@voyagerliveaction.com>   
Subject:  The Subtle Differences 


Doctor Scribbs immediately looked up as the engine crew
returned with Roy, Malcolm, and Mr. Smith. "In there." he said pointing
to a second autopsy room that had a shower ring already placed
and running over the exam table. "I've got things set up for
their decontamination. Gentlemen, I suggest you all take 
another round of scouring yourselves. I've fresh scrubs for
you all to change into." the medical examiner said no nonsense.
"Like these.." he said pulling on his own top.

"Thanks. " Roy said, immediately recognizing his
benefactor. "Hiya, doc. Thanks for putting up with us."

"Gladly, Roy. You and your patients all right?"
said Dr. Scribbs. "Belliveau and Sheppard have 
Gage well under control." he said crisply.  "He's showing
signs of waking according to them, but his pupils are still
a bit dilated and sluggish and he has decreased 
deep tendon reflexes."

"Benzene'll do that. Any arrythmias showing up on
the monitor, Sheppard?" DeSoto asked the Station
24 medic.

"No. He's one lucky b*st*rd. No pulmonary edema either."
said the tan haired man sitting by Gage's head. "He's
breathing now. Began to happen almost as soon as
we got the stuff off of him. Starting to react to pain."

Roy nodded, glancing at Belliveau who had already started 
Malcolm's decontamination after a quick vitals set and a switch 
to a new clean arm splint. Marco and Chet helped Malcolm steady
himself where he was seated under the shower ring. 
"He never lost consciousness, Bob. Did real good the whole 
time." he reported.

"Thanks.." Belliveau said. "And you?" he said, motioning to
the cut on Roy's forehead.

"I'm ok. I had a brief blackout but I'm not the least bit nauseated.
You can fuss over me once we get these two taken care of."
Then DeSoto excused himself and took the fastest scrub of
his life.

While the gang decontaminated once again, Dr. Scribbs
filled in Hank Stanley. "The Support area's been established
outside. A doc and a head nurse are coming here to handle 
our situation. Coming in by bird. Some hot shot named..uh..."

"Brackett.." Cap guessed."Good. He handled Gage previously 
with Stoker on the HT band. Although I don't know how they're 
going to get in here. Your front entrance may be in the Hot Zone 
from the meth explosion." Cap admitted.

"We're not. The chief says all LEL sensors are showing zero
on our block. There's a bunch of firemen upstairs and a Batallion 
Chief setting up a base in my office right now. They've cleared 
us." Scribbs affirmed.

"Terrific.. You don't know how good that sounds. I'll be right back."
said the sweaty fire captain. "I'm joining them after washing up. 
Keep this radio handy. I'm putting you in charge of keeping me
updated on all of my men."

Scribbs noticed and appreciated the trust 51's captain was
imparting to him. "You got it." said the no nonsense M.E. 
"You'll know faster than they will of any status changes. I'm a keen 
observer.." the doc added, jerking a thumb over at the paramedics 
tending Malcolm and Gage.

"I have no doubt about that." Hank grinned. "And keep an eye
on that turkey over there. He's a criminal of the worst kind.
He's one of the ones responsible for the disaster outside."

"Oh, really.." said Scribbs darkly. "Looks like there'll be
no pot of coffee open for him.  Nothing P.O. for any injured
patient, right?" he asked sarcastically. "I think I'll doubly
enforce that right now.." he said, moving off to verbally let loose
his two cents opinion in a furious tirade to the blanket wrapped
man about the meth lab in city hall.

Stanley cringed. "Ooo. I'd hate to be on the receiving end of
that. Scribbs'll dissect him, piece by piece, for sure!"

----------------------------------------------------------------------------------
Roy sat down on a stool by Johnny Gage's side and immediately
set his hands on his chest to feel his breathing while he checked
out the shifting movements of his partner's eyes beneath their eyelids.
He felt Mike Stoker's presence behind him and the engineer's worry 
practically rolled off of him like a scent. "Stoker, you made all the 
difference in the world. Relax. Johnny's almost the way back
to fighting his airway now. The perfect one you established, I'll
remind you."

Caught lingering, Mike almost whispered. 
"Could he have hurt his throat after that spasm? I mean, I had
that scope down past his soft palate when it happened." Mike 
asked.

"Nah. His muscles would've pushed it out before any injury. I've
had that happen a million times. Not your fault he cramped up.
Benzene makes things a little sensitive to bronchospasms and
throat lockups." Roy said, listening to Gage's chest. "He's still 
clear here. No edema.." he smiled.

The quiet engineer visibly relaxed and took a place on Johnny's 
free side just to be near him. Roy didn't fail to see the grip Stoker
made to check for a beat in Johnny's wrist. "I thought I screwed up
majorly." Mike sighed as he reassured himself that Johnny's
BP was indeed on the rise.

Roy shook his head. "Here. Have a listen to where your tube is."
he offered, passing the stethoscope over to Mike to use.
"You got it just above the bronchial split and there's no gastric
bubbling at all behind it, so the endotrach's straight and not
bowing against the esophagus through his trachea like what
sometimes happens when a size too big is used. You guessed
Johnny's need for a seven french like a pro. Like I said, he's 
got an absolutely perfect airway all thanks to you." 

Mike watched his crewmates across the room get cleaned
and changed. "You know. I don't know how you and Johnny
handle all the pressure. I mean, I handle that myself, but
it's pressure of the water kind, not a gush of emotion like I felt
when Johnny went down." 

He set the stethoscope down unused.

"That's normal." DeSoto said. "I'd start to worry if you hadn't felt
that. The intensity of it diminishes with practice and in time you...
....learn to deal with it. ....and push it aside. Your training will
get you through every time. You'll be so busy thinking ...what
next? that you'll hardly have time for self doubt. Stoker, you're
just new. And what I've seen today.. Your instincts are right on
for a paramedic intermediate rookie in this stage of the game.
You didn't freeze up nor buckle under one h*ll of a snap decision. 
I think Kel Brackett knew you better than you know yourself.
You can handle it. And you did." he chuckled, pointing to where
Gage was bundled up inside the warm body bag. Roy frowned.
"Although I don't think Johnny's gonna like the choice of bedclothes
here when he wakes up. Could ya find me some blankets or
something? Maybe we can disguise the cadaver table here
a bit so he won't notice."

"Sure.." Mike said. "Thanks for the pep talk.." he said, leaning
over so Sheppard didn't hear him.

"Anytime. Thanks for saving my partner's life. I owe you one."

"Who's keeping score?" Stoker shrugged, and went off
searching the morgue's cabinets, whistling aimlessly, 
his hands in his scrubs pockets. 

Roy smiled and rechecked Johnny's liter of normal saline
drip flow rate for the millionth time unnecessarily. DeSoto
lifted his head when he heard the sound of helicopter blades
slicing the air as it landed on the medical examiner's building.

---------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
Dr. Brackett and Dixie McCall swept into the morgue with
full jump bags. "Ok, what do we got?" Kel ordered.

"Johnny's breathing and starting to fuss." Sheppard announced.

"Tidal volume without support?"

"Full and clear."

"Ok. extubate him. Gently. Benzene'll make him extra sensitive
to vagal stimulation and may cause another spasm. If he
goes into ventricular tachyrhythmias, avoid epinephrine completely.
Use a beta blocker. His pressure above 90?"

"Yeah, I got a wrist pulse.." Stoker volunteered to Dr. Brackett.

"Nice work earlier on the endotrach, Stoker. Ok, Sheppard, turn
down that I.V. to an infusion rate of 150 to 200 mL/hour. Have
Diazepam, a 5 to 10 mg i.v. dose handy in case he seizes. Repeat 
that every 10 to 15 minutes as needed when and if he does. Use a light 
metaproterenol inhaler for any bronchospasms. Benzene
has an anesthetic action on the central nervous system in high enough
doses. That's most likely why he collapsed and quit breathing on you
so fast. Now that he's washed, he'll come around fairly rapidly."

"Right.." acknowledged Sheppard with a nod.

Dr. Brackett frowned. "I just wish I could run a few tests here.." he 
mumbled.  

Dr. Scribbs overheard. "You can, doctor. This may be an L.A. County
autopsy lab, but Sam and I have state of the art analysis equipment 
that's the rival of anything you have at the hospital. Including an
electron microscope. What do you need?"

Kel blinked, watching Dixie get vitals on Roy and Mr. Smith.
"Oh...Uh. ..ok.. Think you and your assistant can handle all of these?
A CBC with differential, Hct, Hgb, serum erythrocyte count. 
Erythrocyte indices, three of them, an MCV, MCH, and MCHC along 
with a platelet count? We're gonna have to check for developing 
pancytopenia."

"Easily.." Scribbs punctuated.

"Ok, how about a BUN, blood calcium, creatinine series. Liver function 
tests of these two types,.. looking for hepatic aminotransferase levels..
..AST, ALT. A search for elevated bilirubin, and a prothrombin time. 
Also a urinanalysis check for phenol. That's a byproduct of benzene
as it decomposes in the renal system. " Dr. Brackett rattled off.
"Percutaneous absorption can contribute to total body burden."

"I'm aware of that metabolite and fact, Dr. Brackett."

"Oh. You are? Sorry. Oh, .. and  I'd like to pin down signs of 
paroxysmal hemoglobinuria."

"No problem." Scribbs fired off.

"How about checking for intravascular hemolysis? We'll have
to give him 50 to 100 mEq of sodium bicarbonate intravenously 
to his I.V. to initiate urinary alkalinization to stop it." Kel
asked, still deep in concern and concentration.

Scribbs laughed out loud noisily to get the Rampart M.D.'s
attention. "Doctor, there isn't one test we can't do here. Just 
because we deal with deceased persons, doesn't mean that
we're limited medically speaking in the slightest way."

"Whoops. I never said you were." Kel said automatically.

Dixie McCall shot back. "How about having the ability
to make a decent cup of coffee? It's something the hospital
stinks at."

Kel made a face at Dix in conmiseration.

Scribbs rolled his eyes self consciously. "Now that's one 
procedure my assistant and I haven't been able to master."

"Too bad.." McCall grinned, getting the needed blood
and urine samples from Gage efficiently. "These boys
look like they could use a bit of something to warm up a bit."

"I'll turn up the thermostat." and Scribbs rushed off to
show Kel Brackett where the testing equipment was
located. "Uh, that's if someone would be so kind as to
shut that storage cooler door up first. Right this way,
Mr. Brackett. The lab stairway's right through here."

"Wait a minute." Brackett stopped Scribbs. "I'd like to hear
about my other two patients first if you don't mind."

"Oh, right. Sorry. I'm so used to one "patient" at 
a time. This triage concept's a little foreign to me."
he admitted.

"Nothing to it. Belliveau? How's your three?"

"Mr. Smith's vitals are a bit elevated but he has
no traumatic injuries. Roy here on the other hand,
suffered a black out when the ambulance overturned."

"Roy's vitals are normal. Pupils are equal and reactive." 
Dixie supplied to end Kel's frown about hearing that.

Kel nodded. "And Malcolm here?"

"A simple radial ulnar break I think. Circulation, sensation 
and motor ability in the hand is intact." Bob answered.
"No loss of consciousness in his history at all."

"Great news." and Dr. Brackett looked up. "We'll save the rest of
our I.V.s for walk in casualties. " Then he fell to rubbing his chin,
"Say I wonder if we can get that fracture x--"

Scribbs was quick. "We can..  I'll get Roy's full skull series going, too.
If you two gentlemen will follow me." he gestured to the ambulance
attendant and head bandaged paramedic respectively. 
"Malcolm, you stay right there in that wheel chair with that arm splint 
propped up. No one that needy ever walks in my office."

"Of that I have no doubt.." rejoined Chet Kelly.

Marco Lopez and Mike Stoker laughed at his joke.

-----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
Upstairs, Captain Stanley was only half heartened by the
solid rain falling from the clouds. "That'll end the roof fires, chief."
he addressed Batallion. "But what about any chemicals reactant
to water?"

"We're letting the heart of the Hot Zone burn. That'll decompose
most of what this bill of lading has listed. The perimeter units, Foam
127 and 110 are covering the spread of that. The only risk factor
I see is the benzene, with its outgassing ability and the fact that
it's heavier than air. It may flow into the street craters where the
gaslines blew and reignite isolated pockets of liquid gas on
lingering sparks." the chief said.

"Fill the trenches with foam. We've plenty. I just heard L.A. City's
here."

"Might work." Batallion admitted.

"I know it will." said the surgical scrubbed garbed captain.
He absently adjusted the helmet that still perched on his head.

The chief had a chuckle at Hank's clothes. "You know, you look
like a doc from a television soap opera wearing those."

Hank looked down at himself subconsciously and whirled to
see if any other of the bustling firefighters going in and out of
the building were staring. But none were. "Sorry, chief. It was
all they had."

"The hat's enough for your rank identification. Tell me. How
are those two Code I's of yours?"

"Fine,.. well, one is fine. Roy DeSoto took a knock on the 
head but it's minor. My other paramedic is.." and he shrugged
when his voice choked off.

The chief patted Hank's shoulder as Stanley busied himself
with not reading the city map festooned with the red fire point 
stick pins, spread out on the communications desk before them.
"I overheard your engineer on the radio. Tell me, does he always
play paramedic for your station?"

Cap immediately blushed. "Uh, Chief. Stoker's been fully authorized
by the head of the paramedic program, Kel Brackett. I--I'm surprised
you didn't get the memo.."

"I haven't had time. With the San Bernadino brush fire season in full
swing. I'm behind doing a lot of things."  the wizened chief's eyes
alighted on a tray of packaged sandwiches being carted past
by a relief worker. "Including finding some grub. Hungry Hank?"

Stanley was not slow. He intercepted the tray of food that
surprised the young tunic'd woman for a few seconds when
the weight left her hands. She saluted and did an about face
to head outside for more sandwiches. "Thanks, maam. Could
you run a tray to the morgue? I've several downstairs with
patients."

"How many?"

"Just under a dozen.."

"I'll be there.." flashed the young woman's smile
in the smoky lobby. "Give me four minutes."

"Appreciate it." Hank waved, munching on
a ham and cheese.

Batallion was equally engaged with a roast beef
on rye. "Umm, nothing like deli on a busy work day."

"Even inside a morgue?" Cap asked.

"Even in a morgue, Hank. Location's never stopped
my appetite before. Never has, never will." The chief
hefted up his sandwich in a mock toast. "Here's to
light civilian casualties and a rapidly dying fire."

"Here, here." Hank celebrated. And the whole room of
firefighters concurred from whereever they were.

The chief bellowed. "Get back to work all of you slackers!
We still got a full week's hazard cleanup to do.." he yelled
with an unserious grin. "Now where was I?" he asked Hank
over the map.

"Hot Zone center cleanup."

"Oh yeah.. Right. Now the best angle of attack I can see
for clean up is to continue the EMS personnel's evacuation
of stragglers for full decontamination in the Green Zone.
I'm convinced we won't need Level A barrier isolation for
either the Decontamination nor the Rehabilitation Stations.
Gloves and aprons will be enough." the chief reiterated.
"We'll just keep using polybags for the evacuees' leather
clothing articles. Benzene will stay concentrated in those."

Hank nodded. "And I have the third alarm units gathering
names and addresses and the businesses on all of
them so we can get our headcounts and check for any
other potential missing people."

"Good. Good." the chief nodded. "I've already had L.A. call
a clinical facility to handle all the hazardous waste we'll create
with our soaking sandpiles and demolishing operations."

"And I've instructed L.A. City Fire Departments Nine and
112's to continue to check for airborne contaminants down
wind."

"Their findings?"

"Mostly carbon monoxide and some tetrahydrocarbons. 
Nothing in the OSHA risk ranges yet. I'm most happy
with the fact that the benzene is dissipating. The foam units
are doing the trick. Only one backflash outside the back
alley has been reported." Captain Stanley said.

"Hmm, the one that you boys drove through getting back
here. Is your engine bad off?"

Captain Stanley was silent.

"Don't worry about E-51. I'll handle her repair paperwork
personally. I'm sure Charlie the mechanic and his lackies
will make her a priority. He loves your station's vehicles you
know."

"I know he does.." Cap complained. "The way he jumps all
over my men on every visit proves that. " and he broke
off into an imitation of Charlie's gruff New York taxi driver
accent. "You boys're gonna stop jamming the squad tires up 
against the curbs on rescue calls or I'm gonna come jam your 
skulls along side of the backyard walls the first chance I get!"
Hank parroted. 

"Ooo, " grimaced Batallion in sympathy. "He's that obssessed
with the Ward and Dodge?"

"Yep. Almost as much as I hate getting surprise insp--" he broke 
off, suddenly pale with embarrassment.

The chief cleared his throat, pretending that he didn't hear
Hank's slipped comment. "I'll curb Charlie, too during
the repair job. Your whole station crew today has done
the department proud. I'll be issuing commendations for
each and every one of you as soon as my staff can 
get to it."

"Thank you, Chief." Hank said, lowering his head
in humility. "I'm sure my men will be thrilled see those
during the next monthly meeting."

"Keep them a surprise." Batallion ordered.

"Yes sir."

Right then, Hank's HT, connected to the one
in the morgue, came to life. It was Dr. Scribbs
with news.

##Mr. Stanley. Your paramedic's awake and talking.
The M.D. you got here's a real efficient man. Knows
his stuff better than I know mine. Just thought you should 
know. You're busy so I'll sign off now.## 

Click.

Batallion started grinning. "Hank..."

"Huh..?"

"Get down there before you burn holes in this
map of ours. Your body's home but your brain isn't.
Go see your man. You'll be no good to me until you've
reassured yourself that he's out of hot water." the chief 
chuckled. "You have three minutes.. Go....I'll assume your
command assignment until you get back."

Hank went.

-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
Johnny Gage was still vocally protesting where he was.
"Oh, ughhhHHh.  I'm on a cadaver table?! Get me off of
here. A stokes suspended between two chairs'll be just
fine.."  Marco and Kelly hastened to move him but
Kel Brackett halted them.

"Ah, ah ah.. Not so fast. You're still suffering some myocardial 
sensitivity Johnny. Any unnecessary motion might send you 
into V-fib." Kel warned.

"I'm willing to take the risk. You've got a defibrillator right there.
I'll just slide over into the basket here and--"

"You just freeze right there, Johnny Gage..." Dixie glared,
pushing both her hands down onto his chest so he couldn't
rise up onto his elbows.

Mike Stoker whined. "Aw, Gage. Don't make me live through
a second endotrach on you again. The first time was scary
enough.."

Gage blinked, shifting his blankets around over his bare
body. "You..did ..did what? Where was Roy?"

"Elsewhere." DeSoto grinned.

"Oh yeah?" Gage asked, frowning at Mike. Then he
slid a tongue over his front teeth. "I think you screwed
up a bit Stoker. I feel a chip here."

Mike Stoker's face started to fade into a look of horror
when Gage smiled, letting him off the hook.

Dr. Brackett crossed his arms in a no business attitude.
"Leave him alone, Gage. Or I'll sedate you myself and let
him take another run at you. Now lie still. And that's an
order you can't ignore."

Gage realized his cause was lost. "All right, all right. You win.
Just.. gimme some eye covers or something. I don't wanna
see what's in those jars over there. And a nose plug." he mumbled
through his oxygen mask. 

Dr. Scribbs looked up from admiring Dr. Brackett's triage
chart with a wounded look. "My ward's spotless Mr. Gage.
Not a trace of odor anywhere. I personally disinfected your
table myself before you were transferred onto it."

"Charmed, doc. It's not the physical odor I'm talking about
it's the..."

"...psychosomatic one.. I know.." Scribbs sighed sadly. "I hear
that from absolutely everybody non department who comes
in here." he sniffed. "And I've even tried to cheer up the place,
too, for all the clinical residents I get visiting me each week."
and he threw a hand at a prominent Garfield wall calendar 
tacked up under a stark white, round two handed clock.
"Doesn't it help?"

Chet Kelly started an empathetic no, but Mike Stoker
stepped on his foot to silence him.

Gage let his head thunk back onto his paper sheeted pillow.
"A little... I guess.." he replied when Dix put on a little visual
pressure with a do it or die face.

"Oh, what a relief. I can only decorate so much you know.
It's because of the nature of my work."

"If you're so hung up on decor, why don't you go be
a mortician in a funeral home. That kind of place is
total lavish. Satin coffins, velvet curtains, carpetting.."
Chet needled Scribbs.

Scribbs refused to rise to the bait. "I like problem
solving too much to be satisfied with just corpse restoration
for burial. Here, I can determine cause of death and there's
nothing, gentlemen, more intriguing than that." he
said with a grin.

Mike Stoker cleared his throat. "Yes, well. Uh... Chow's
on. Looks like Cap sent us down a tray.."

Gage reached for a sandwich eagerly.

Dixie slapped his hand away. "Not so fast, Near Death Boy.
You've orders for nothing PO."

"Aw,, Dix. I feel fine.." Johnny said.

"Yeah?" Kel admitted. "Well the tests Dr. Scribbs and I
ran on you say otherwise. If your blood alkali normalizes
within the next hour, I'll see about you eating anything.
Until then, that I.V.'s all you're gonna get."

"Ok, doc, you're my doc."

"And so am I." glared Scribbs. "er... for the time being."

Johnny mock saluted them both, grumbling while
everyone but Sheppard moved away to fill their bellies. 

Malcolm declined his food saying he
might lose it when his arm was reset.

Dixie dove into her egg salad. "Suit yourself."
she told him.

Johnny threw a needle cover at Mike Stoker's
back to get his attention when the others had
gone. He didn't mind Gil Sheppard remaining
for Gage trusted the paramedic to have selective
hearing while he dove through the sports pages.

Stoker swallowed his last bite of chicken breast on
wheat and he sat by Johnny. "Need something?"

Gage studied his hands. "Yeah, your ear." he said
timidly. "Look, I didn't mean to critique all you did for
me. This chip's nothing the dentist can't fix. I have
soft teeth I'm told. And you must've had to hurry or
something."

"I did. You quit breathing less than ten seconds after
you dropped the BP cuff.." Mike Stoker said.

"I did?"

"Yeah. That must have been some benzene dose you
took. Something in liquid form I suspect." Mike nodded.

"Was anyone else effected?" he asked quietly worried.

"Chet was. Both his eyes.."

Johnny's face screwed up in complaint.. "Well why does
he get to eat?! For crying out l-- That's not fair.."

Mike hushed him. "His tests came out negative for phenol."

Johnny relented and suppressed a cough so the EKG monitor
wouldn't set off a PVC alarm and send the others running.
He just thought about what he was going to say for a minute
and then he looked up at Stoker. "Thanks for bailing my 
butt, Mike. I could've died today."

"Well you didn't. And even if you had, no one does for long
under MY c.p.r."

"That much is true.." Johnny chuckled, seriously. "Still.
Thanks, pal." And he held out his I.V. taped hand.

Mike Stoker took it into a clasp, moved far beyond easy 
words, so he didn't speak. A nod sufficed. But then he tilted
his head and he stuck out a pinning finger. "The first moment
you're back on your feet and back on duty. You're gonna drill
me on the mannikin. I wanna get a full intubation done in less
than the minute they give you. And I wanna learn how to NOT
cause a laryngospasm."

Johnny warmed up to the new subject heartily and his
cardiac monitor sped up into an excited range. "That's
easy. Here, move closer. I wanna tell you how I do all MY endotrachs.
Roy's method's good. But a tad slow. I got a few seconds on him
and he's been in this line of work longer than me.." he grinned
lopsidedly. "Now after you've visualized the cords there's
a positioning trick you can do with your elbows where you just
cock your non stylus hand up a hair.. like this.. Here let me
show you.. Gimme your hands.. Are you with me so far?"

Mike nodded.

"Ok, so you've got your scope blade in and the tongue's
pushed to the right out of the way.. now all you have to do
is..."

---------------------------------------------------------------------------------
Roy DeSoto listened to his crewmates quiet babble from 
the far side of the room with contentment while he sipped 
the well deserved cup of coffee Dixie had given him. She
was with him now, helping DeSoto keep an eye on Gage's
EKG monitor and she caught his slight smile of pride.

"What?" she asked, mirroring with one of her own.

"Nothing. They're bringing back some memories that's all."

"What kind of memories?" Dixie pegged, challenging.

Roy was caught like a dog on a pole and noose.
He sighed. "I remember talking shop with Johnny about
paramedic stuff, just like they're doing right now."

"Does it feel good? Or bad?" McCall asked with a mixed
look on her face, half worried and half horrified.

"Both, actually. I taught Johnny everything he knew and now
he's got a chance to teach Stoker the same thing. In one
respect, that proves that I made a good teacher. On the other
hand, it makes me feel really ...old.." DeSoto mused.

"Oh, rubbish.." McCall said. "If I felt that way everytime one
of my student nurses suddenly figured it out and became
well seasoned, I'd never crawl out of bed in the morning.
Just,.. let it happen,. and be done with it.."

Kel Brackett interrupted them from the autopsy reports he
was reading through that Dr. Scribbs was showing him
like a proud papa. "That's what I do, Roy. Look how I feel.
I'm a great grandfather now.. First I trained you. Then you
trained Gage. Now Gage is training Stoker... See? Great
grandfather. And I never wallow in an I'm getting older
pity pit."

"Yes you do.." Dix peeped.

"I do not!" Kel said, setting down his report slate.

"Sure you do. Whenever you graduate yet another
paramedic class, it happens every time. Carol tells me she
hears you doing it all the time."

"Well,," Dr. Brackett sputtered. "That's ..that might
be true.. But I try to curb it."

"Relax, doc.." Roy smiled, leaning forward. "I won't
let anyone on to the fact that we're all human beings."

Dr. Brackett frowned sarcastically and reburied his
nose into the autopsy reports.

Scribbs added his own opinion. "I know the value of
human sentimentality probably more than the both of
you put together, since I see just how mortal each and 
every person,.. truly is." And he raised his cup in
an invite. "Here's to life. And our mutual fight to thwart 
death."

Roy and Dix and Kel all raised their mugs of coffee 
and joined the medical examiner in his toast.

---------------------------------------------------------------------------------
Chet Kelly sat in his chair, well away from the others
and the corpse cooler, watching Stoker and Gage run
through an intubation call at his tableside. Something
inside of him made him get up and walk over there.
He interrupted their conversation self consciously.
"Can I listen in?"

Mike Stoker and Johnny Gage fell silent.

Chet stammered. "I ..I..I mean.. I was there, too. Maybe
I could learn a thing or three... like... like he is." he 
shrugged. 

Mike Stoker smiled and pulled up a second metal
stool. "Why don't you find a third seat for Marco. We'll 
all learn together." And Stoker's eyes twinkled in the 
lights.

It wasn't long before a newly arriving Hank Stanley was
 just as rivetted as the others to Gage's helpful hints and 
entertaining expertise on the finesse of good advanced
life support techniques.

And it seemed like no time at all before the whole quarantined 
bunch was bound for Rampart aboard the helicopter, 
soaring high above the Carson City skyline.

                          FIN
------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Photo: Brackett getting into a helicopter.

Photo:  Close of Dr. Scribbs, L.A. County M.E.

Photo:  Cap and a Batallion Chief by an engine.

Photo:  Bob Belliveau, fire paramedic, by a med cabinet.

Photo:  Gil Sheppard, paramedic, with his partner, seated.

Photo:  Roy and Marco smirking.

Photo: Roy smiling proudly.

Photo: The gang loading patients onto a helicopter.

*********************************************************************
 
 
                           CROSSING THE RED LINE

              :)  This episode is dedicated to all personnel who deal with            :)
              :)     hazardous materials world wide. May you stay safe and well.  :)                                                                                                                                                                      

@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@
 

The Story Unfolds...

Season Two, Episode Thirteen..

§§   THE WHITE ENGINE     §§
 
  
******************************************************
From :  Cassidy Meyers <killashandrarey@hotmail.com> 
Sent :  Saturday, August 14, 2004 4:34 AM 
Subject :  Like Kids in A Candy Store 


Johnny Gage arrived to work, automatically buzzing himself through 
the fire station's side kitchen door, while unbuttoning his shirt. 
"Morning, Chet." he greeted.

Fireman Kelly didn't even look up from the collection of gadgets
and bits of machinery strewn across newspapers on the table.
"Hmmm.. " he said, closely joining together a wire and spring
with a soldering iron. "Eat on a tray. I'm busy here. Touch nothing."

Gage skidded to a halt, naturally, to see what Chet was up to.
"What's this?" he said, picking up a small black case fitted with
a pressure dial.

"ah ahH  AHH! Gimme that!" the curly haired fireman snapped
defensively, snatching the homemade part out of Johnny's grip. 
He carefully placed it back into the order he had laid out before him.
"Boy, you sure know how to listen to directions, Gage. Cap, I think 
you oughta send Johnny to Rampart. I don't think his ears are
functioning." he complained.

Hank Stanley sniffed from where he was sipping coffee in the
easy chair, his lap full of snoring Henry . "What else's new?
Goes along with both of his feet, Kelly." Cap glared at Johnny, 
waving what he was really reading on top of the stocks section.
"Your accident report for the week is already three pages long.
Have you been getting more sleep like I ordered ya to?"

Gage forgot his curiosity over Kelly's impromptu project  and
frowned right back. "Yeah, Cap. Plenty.. I. "

"And how about remembering to take those multi vitamins Dr. 
Early suggested we all start taking." Hank added.

"As if I'd forget. Roy left a note on my bathroom mirror a foot
wide, reminding me about em." Johnny snorted under his breath.

"Good. Now eat. Stoker brought in danishes for breakfast. They're
over there on the counter." Stanley said, lifting the paper up in
front of his face to end the conversation.

"Danishes? Roy loves danishes. And there's a cheese one left."
Gage interjected as he chewed a raspberry one loudly. "How 
come he hasn't taken it yet before Lopez does?"

"He's busy.." Chet Kelly answered, penning some molten soldering 
onto his tiny invention. A plume of bluish smoke rose up and started 
off the fire detector on the ceiling. "Oops!"  Kelly shot up and
stood in his chair while he pulled the lid off to silence the alarm.

Stoker came pelting in with the fire extinguisher from the vehicle 
bay.

Kelly didn't even look up from his work. "Now there's a set of 
tightly bundled reflexes. Gage, you can learn from him."

"What?" Stoker asked. "Where's the fire?"

"False alarm, Stoker. Everything's fine.." Cap said from
the chair, still buried in his paper.

"Oh..." Mike gaped.  Then his expression fell into one of irritation
that matched Gage's when he found out the reason for the noise.
"I thought Chet fried some snow skiis again or something."

"Very funny.." Kelly told him. "Nah, what I got here is going to
revolutionize the entire fire department, Stoker. It came to
me during last Thursday's fire."

"You mean at the factory where we all got a chest full of smoke
for nothing after rescuing Moreno's abandoned turnout jacket when
we thought he was trapped in there?" Gage supplied.

"That's the one. Too bad that almost perfect recall doesn't work
so well with the rest of ya." Chet quipped, pointing his steaming
pen at Johnny in emphasis.

"Speak for yourself. You got Cap here so conditioned to your
continually setting off the fire detectors here, that he 
doesn't even blink any more."

"Wrong Gage. I blinked. I just chose not to react." Hank grumbled.
"Stoker leave that extinguisher where Chet can reach it.
Then you can go back to studying up."

"Right Cap." and Mike left the kitchen with two danishes.

"Hey, Stoker. Leave the cheese one for Roy!" Johnny admonished.

"I'm bringing it to him out back. Wanna come along?"

"You mean he's not in the locker room poring over the horse
racing column?"

"Nope." Mike Stoker said through a cheekful of pastry.

"What's he doing that's so important that he's forgetting his
breakfast?" Gage asked the station engineer.

Stoker said nothing and just motioned to Johnny to follow him.

------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

The first thing Gage noticed was the gaping space yawning floor
to ceiling in the bay. It made the squad seem very small.
"Where's the Ward at?"

"In the shop. She needed a new water tank. It was rusting out."
Stoker said, picking up a basket ball and shooting it into the 
hoop above the shower room doorframe.

Johnny glanced over at the speaker grill and saw the glowing
ready light pulsing there on active mode. "We're on active duty?
How can we be with no engine handy to take out on calls?"

Mike Stoker just flung the basket ball over to the open door
garage button leading out into the backyard, activating it.

The screeching massive slats retracted revealing a blinding
white light. Johnny's mouth fell open. "What the h*ll is that?"

"Our loaner." Stoker said with a grin. "Roy's at the back panel
learning how to work all the new gadgetry." He couldn't help
but show all of his teeth like a kid in the candy store. "Isn't
she beautiful?"  

Johnny followed Stoker dumbly out into the morning sunlight with
the berry danish in between his teeth, remaining unchewed.

Stoker gave a running account of what he had discovered
since coming to work. "Meet the "Ambassador" Ward LaFrance 1000.
She's got a six cylinder Cummins Diesel engine with an automatic transmission, 
a 2000 GPM  two stage Hale Class Water Pump with a 500 Gallon
capacity reservoir. And get a load of this, this baby's got a IDLH atmosphere 
attacking repetoire consisting of  a FOUR inch diameter hose- 500 feet in
length, a  2 1/2" at a 1,000'.  Plus an 1 3/4" topping 450' ! Awesome
killing power."

"But..but..but...." Gage sputtered.

Mike didn't hear him. He was too deep into his stint of fire truck
admiration to pay him any heed. " ...Did I tell you that she can seat all 
six of us, including all of your medical gear from the squad? The 
chief's already authorized duplicates. See?" and he popped
open a shiny chrome door behind the engineer's cab which
revealed everything in its proper place.

Gage slammed the door shut again.

"Hey, take it easy! Do you want to damage Ivory before she's
even broken in?" Stoker said, protectively rubbing off
Gage's fingermarks with the chamois that miraculously
appeared from his back pocket. "We've got the honor
of being the first station to get her off the assembly line you know."

"Ivory? This ugly thing of an engine's got a name already?" 
John asked incredulously.

"Sure, why not? Our regular Ward's got one.." Marco
Lopez said from on top of the huge truck, startling
Johnny. He was seated in the chrome sprayer chair,
testing out the still dry cannon.

"But.. but... but... she's......*ugh*... a white fire engine.
When I signed up for the department I was counting
on serving the kind of engine I always saw all the other 
guys working on. An honest to goodness fire engine that was
RED colored, not.. this, this frosty kind! You need a 
pair of sunglasses handy to get anywhere near her here."
he said, wiping his eyes free of bright light tears.

"Got 'em..." Hank grinned, joining his men outside, pulling
out a pair from his uniform shirt. "Here's yours, Gage."
and he tossed them to his flustered paramedic.
"Roy's already got his."

Johnny's disgust only grew when Stoker, Marco and Cap
all shoved on the beach lifeguard mirror shades before
they climbed aboard.  Gage's list of grievances only grew
and the others patiently let him vent until he was done.
"So how long are we gonna be stuck with her?" Johnny 
said in the end with his hands on his hips.

"Don't know. Chief says could be a week, or three.." Hank
smiled, enjoying Johnny's shock and dismay. "I told Charlie
to take his time with Ol Red. He couldn't blame me. Ivory here's
state of the art and he trusted no one else but Stoker to
be her test driver."

Mike Stoker was suddenly rivetted with repolishing his new
intricate engineer's panel. "Hey Roy.." and he whistled
in his teeth. "Breakfast!" and he launched the covetted
cheese danish high into the air to free up his other hand.

"Stoker! What are ya doing?" Johnny yelled. "For crying 
out----! "

A deep hum of moving parts and gears suddenly kicked
on and a part of the engine that was almost invisible because
of the snow white paint suddenly .. unfolded.

Mike Stoker drew near Johnny's elbow, chewing. 
"Did I tell you that we are now the proud loaners of
a genuine 84 foot Addison extension ladder too?"

It was Gage's turn to start to drool. All of his earlier
complaints and carrying on, melted like sugar
under water. "Oh, boy. An Addison.." 

A hand shot up from the basket of the rising ladder
sections and caught the danish neatly.

"Nice catch, Roy." Cap shouted up. 
" I'd say you got the controls on that thing mastered. Now 
come down. It's Johnny's turn. He's the last to get to 
play ladderman." Hank ordered, walking back into
the station to finish his interrupted stocks column.

"Do you forgive her color now, Johnny?" Roy grinned,
setting the ladder into neutral as the gears glided down
across Ivory's back. The basket nestled snugly behind the
passenger cab.

Johnny was speechless and he dropped his danish 
to Henry who suddenly knew to be there and flashed over
to the back control alcove. "Yeah,.. I'll forgive her.
Wow.. Is it really my turn?"

"There goes those problems with the ears again..."
Chet Kelly said, grinning like a Cheshire cat.

"You heard the Cap." Marco said. "Take her up."

Gage bubbled as he helped Roy down from the scoop
stand. "How do I operate this? Quick, Stoker. Help me out."

"It's simple. Just think stick shift. Forward for up. Back for
down. Left and right for side to side. Nothing to it." Mike
said laughing. "Try to touch the top of the hose tower with
the basket. All of us got it up there in less than fifteen seconds."

"But that's sixy feet high at least.." Gage stammered.

"So?" Chet scoffed, grinning. "We've got 84 feet of vertical to 
monkey with. Go for it. I'm timing ya..   3,.....2.....1.." and he 
studied his watch closely. "Mark when I say go.."

Gage shoved on the work gloves Roy handed him and
grabbed the controls just as Kelly yelled "Go!"

The gang cheered Johnny on as he got used to the feel
of the white fire engine's best feature. But then the
call tones went off and Gage's concentration wavered.

The bottom of the rescue basket bumped the top of
the hose tower and all the hoses hanging there were
jolted off their hooks. Six of them sphagetti-d like noodles
to the ground in noisy splats, making all of them duck.

"Oh, good going, Gage. Guess who gets to climb back
up there to rehang all of those." Kelly said.

Johnny shot Kelly a sarcastic look. "I'll use the basket to
redo em later."

Stoker was already in his overcoat, behind the wheel,
sliding into his helmet.

Cap ran from the station bay with his on and he began
shouting. "Let's move. Roy get that ladder down now. 
We roll in half a minute. Then it's you two, in the back. 
The squad stays behind. Chief's orders."

"What?" Johnny blurted, confused. "We're gonna need
that if it's just a medical call."

"No we won't. From now on until the old Ward gets back.
We're on every call, together. Kapesh?" Cap said in
a no nonsense tone.

Johnny nodded leadenly.

"Great, now  get in." Cap bellowed, jerking a thumb back
behind him as he opened the sparkling new engine's
door.

Gage started to beeline for the squad to get his jacket but
Marco stopped him by flinging it and his helmet across
his chest. "I took the liberty of moving yours when I 
did mine, Johnny. Here."

Johnny nodded an embarrassed thanks and slid dutifully
beside Kelly in the spacious back cab. The yellow of their
air bottles looked comical against the snowy metal.

##Station 51, Station 8, Truck 127. Structure fire. 
1700 East Beckner Avenue. Cross street Caine. 1700
East Beckner Avenue. Cross street Caine. Time out, 07:06.##

Cap thumbed the radio mic, "L.A., 10-4. Engine 51-A is responding.
We're KMG 365." And he released the talk button. "Let's get the 
show on the road gang. Sounds like a bad one. That block's
right on the marina.." Hank got in next to Mike on the passenger's 
side but his door lingered open a little longer while the rescue
call directions were broadcast. He reached down
to grab Henry's loose scruff as he hauled him aboard.
"Isn't this great? We finally got enough room for him.
Now he can be a proper fire dog.." Cap chuckled.
"Ok, Stoker. Move it out. Go through the garage and
then punch the auto down once we're on the boulevard."

"Wait a minute. Where's Roy?" Johnny startled. "He 
didn't follow us inside the cab."

"Course not." yelled Kelly gleefully. "Somebody's gotta
steer our back end. For today, Roy's designated wheel
man!"

Johnny's face finally fell into another smile, one of jealousy
as the news sunk in. "A wheel man. Just like I used to dream
about when I was a kid."

"Well, now you get to indulge yourself Gage. We all do.
Just like the big boys in the city.. Wah..HoOOooooo!"
Chet shouted at the top of his lungs. 

Henry the basset, in between Caps knees, barked like
a mad thing in excitement at finally being able to follow his
humans to whereever they were going.

"Wow, would you look at that?" Marco shouted, adjusting
his helmet over the noise of the powerful engine and 
shrill triple tone and whistle siren. "Henry's a puppy again.
He's acting like he's years younger." he celebrated.


The white engine roared down the freeway top speed. Her shockingly
bright non color was scattering the traffic out of her way like harried
chickens long before the siren's wail ever got there.

Gage smiled, noticing. "Maybe there IS something in painting
a fire truck white."

"Not to my way of thinking, Gage." Kelly said, overhearing. "You're forgetting 
how much the dirt is going to show up on Ivory's flanks when we're through.
Stoker's gonna keep us busy buffing and polishing her up for hours."

Johnny's happy little boy look faded into a look of horror.

-------------------------------------------------------------

Photo : Station 51's backyard.

Photo: Johnny in an empty, open vehicle bay.

Photo:  A white fire engine, front side out.

Photo: A ladder going up on a Ward.

Photo: The ladder's rear truck controls.

Photo: Johnny talking with Roy outside.

Photo:  A warehouse fire, full blown at night.

Photo: Cap with Henry on the couch.

**********************************************************
From:  "Cory Anda" <andacory@hotmail.com> 
Date:  Mon Aug 16, 2004  5:55 pm 
Subject:  Other Things Are White, Too
 
Stoker had no problem finding the fire. The tang of salt from 
the ocean was mixed with the bitter smell of tricolored smoke that 
was the signature of a spanish beach stucco and tile house fire. 
The burning plume of ash was wafting over the pacific coast highway, 
making traffic slow as gapers rubbernecked the stilted house perched
on the clifftop.  

Cap gestured, "Stoker, can you get us through on the margin?"

"Yep." and Mike hauled the large wheel around until they had by passed
the driving gawkers. The airhorn he used every hundred feet elicted
cheers each time he used it. All the people stuck in the morning 
and fire traffic did this as they passed in the usual California motorist 
reaction to seeing an emergency vehicle moving on through.

In the back, highly visible to all, Roy restrained himself and tried not 
to wave back.

Hank was relieved to find that he wasn't the first one on the scene.

Captain Ben Stone's Station Eight crew was there, already milling about
in the scrub surrounding the house for the water hydrant pipe.

"L.A., Station 51's on scene. We'll be attacking from the northern exposure."
Stanley made his arrival known.

##10-4, 51. An ambulance has been dispatched to your location. ETA 
nine minutes.## came the dispatcher's reply.

"Copy, L.A. 51, out." Cap replied, collapsing down his walkie talkie
antennae as he stepped from the engine's cab. He was about to slam the
door shut when a deep woof arrested him. Henry dropped his heavy
bulk to the smoky street and he immediately ambled over to a wide 
place on the grass where he sat himself down by a eucalyptus tree, 
to begin intently watching the fire.

Ben Stone noticed, in between shouted attack orders issued to his men. 
"Oh, so you've only just managed to spring your resident couch potato 
off his perch for this one?" he teased Hank. "It's been what? Three years
since he showed up for dinner?"

Captain Stanley shouted to get Roy's attention. "DeSoto! Ladder up! 
Unmanned bucket. We'll use the auto cannon to cover the roof. Then
get down and set up fire standby medical gear."

"You got it, Cap." Roy answered, waving a glove.

Then Cap answered Ben. "Sure. Why not? You can see how
he's enjoying himself."

"That I can." smiled the big dark skinned captain immensely.

Gage motored on by at a run, when he saw Squad 8's compartment
doors wide open which was a universal sign that a victim had been found
and was being treated. 

Johnny crouched by Craig Brice and Bob Bellingham who were both struggling 
to offer a flowing demand valve 02 mask to an old lady covered with burns.
She was sitting upright and supported in Bob's arms to make her breathing
easier.

"Now, maam. You'll feel a whole lot better if you breathe some of this
in.." Bob urged, pulling the tiny woman's arms down as she tried
to push away the mask in her fight to get air into her lungs.

Craig Brice nodded, getting out a blood pressure cuff to take a vitals set on
her. "Please, hold still. I know those leg burns are painful. We're trying 
to help you."

The woman in the paisley dress and white knit sweater ignored him,
choking and coughing louder and she fought them with all of her
small frame's strength.

Johnny gripped her arms and tried some charm which didn't work.
"Maam. It's ok. You're out of the fire. Don't worry about the house.
We're gonna knock it down. " The lady's distressed eyes caught 
Johnny's eyes desperately and she only moaned louder again turning
her face away from the mask as she gasped from smoke inhalation.

"What's the matter? Easy. Just calm down." Gage asked her."We're trying 
to understand ya. But  first breathe some of this in. It'll get rid
of that shortness of breath you got. I promise you that."

The tiny old lady yelled louder, pleading something of him in
mumbling words that he didn't understand.

Her verbal shouts caught Marco's ear as he dragged down hose 
from the white engine's hose bed. He tossed down his looping armful
to the lawn and he pulled off his work gloves. "Chet take over. I gotta 
check out that victim over there. I think she's speaking spanish."

"Ok." Kelly said, picking up the uncharged water line while running 
to the middle of the front yard.

Marco let Cap know with a hand signal what he was up to.
Hank nodded. Then he ran over to Squad Eight's flank.

Lopez tapped Brice's shoulder. "Let me try. She's frightened about 
something. Maybe I can find out what it is. I don't think she knows 
any english." And he spoke to her urgently with rapid questions in 
Spanish.

Paying attention, Henry started to bark and howl, jogging up
to the firemen. After sniffing the woman's skirts once, and he 
began staring at the house, then back at the woman nervously.

"Uh oh.. " said Cap, catching on at once. "I hope that reaction 
from him doesn't mean what I think it means."

The white haired lady began to sob, hanging onto Marco desperately
and she spoke the first comprehensible words to him, in relief that
someone finally could talk with her. After a short exchange, Lopez 
looked up at Cap. "It's ok, she's not fussing over anyone else who might 
still be in the house. She's worried about her cat."

Cap relaxed his tense crouch with a sympathetic smile for show. "Tell her 
we'll do everything we can, Marco. Go ahead and ask her where she 
last saw it." he encouraged.

Marco got the information. "Back bedroom, on the ocean side,
the room above the swimming pool, second floor. A three year old tan tabby." 
and he went back to soothing the woman and soon, he got her to accept breathing 
in the pure oxygen being offered by paramedics' hands. "You need me 
yet?" he asked Cap, looking up from the frightened woman's face.

"Nah, stay with her. Brice and Bellingham may need you to be an interpreter
before she gets too shocky to talk. We're fine for now. Kelly, did you hear 
that about making that room a priority point?!" Hank relayed in a shout.

"Yep. I just radioed Roy on our band to hit that side of the house with the cannon!" 
Chet replied,  gesturing to Mike Stoker that he was ready for his hose to be
fully charged. Two from Station Eight's crew joined Kelly on his newly stretched 
line.

DeSoto diverted the bucket until it hung above the house out of flame
range and he diverted the cannon nozzle's powerful water stream until it connected 
with the second floor's veranda window. Glass immediately shattered on impact
and the fire glowing space within started to hiss clouds of steam as it
started to be smothered by water.

"Hold it right there, Roy. You're in position. Lock her down, pal." Hank shouted.
"Go help Gage, ok? Looks like they've a victim needing an extra pair of hands. 
I've already got eight's and one twenty seven covering the other three sides."

Roy waved and nodded, and froze the ladder maneuvering controls. Soon 
he was at Johnny's side in listening mode.

"Dona Arana. Nosotros estas a ayudar mirar por su gato. Shhh." Lopez
soothed as he clutched the old woman's hand tightly as she writhed in Bob's 
arms due to her severe pain.

"Go ahead and get those burn packs on, Bob. Brice's got his hands full 
on the biophone. I'll take over keeping her elevated for ya." Johnny offered,
taking over holding the oxygen valve over the restless woman's nose and 
mouth as she fought to breathe without coughing.

Roy grabbed a two liter saline bag and helped Bellingham pour the
solution over sterile sheets Brice had laid over the woman's charred
legs, as fast as he could. He knew that its relief would only be
temporary. "Does Craig have his order for some MS yet?"

Bob shook his head minutely as he worked. 

DeSoto sighed. "Must be a busy day at Rampart..." he speculated. 
"My goodness." he complained. "What's the hold up?"

"Craig's got a new doctor on the line. Someone covering for Joe Early. 
He's sure taking his time mulling over our signs and symptoms on her."

Quite suddenly, the old woman pitched over with a groan, going limp.

"I got her.." Johnny said, catching her head and neck and lowering her
to the ground carefully preserving an open airway. He began to get fuller
breaths of 02 into the woman's bubbling chest and her color immediately
improved. "She's ok.  I've still got a good pulse."

"Now there's our wish for mercy being granted." Bob confided in 
DeSoto. "I was waiting for her to black out. Hand me those shears, 
Roy. I'll get her ready for the EKG leads."

Roy reached into the trauma kit and found them.

Brice was getting miffed, his cool crumbling visibly to the others.
"Rampart, this is a repeat of our victim's LOC. Unconscious, and
yes, with a gag reflex. Request permission to insert a nasopharyngeal
airway. Marked pulmonary edema is most definitely evident.." he 
hinted with beginning irritation to a young sounding unfamiliar 
male resident on the hospital line. Craig's head jerked up and down 
and his hand swept round in some "oh come on" circles in the air as 
he mentally encouraged the man on on the other end of the biophone 
to hustle it up.

Johnny, losing patience next to Brice, broke some rules and intubated 
her anyway after gelling the tube.

Brice startled, covering the phone receiver.  He said, "Gage, that's not 
regulation..!" he hissed.

"Neither's delaying life saving treatment. We'll say her throat was
swelling up if we have to." he remarked, checking the placement
of the tube in the woman's sooty nostril. "Just hang up on that jerk.
Make it sound like we've hit a communications failure or something.
Happens all the time this close to the beach. We've got all our critical 
orders already.  Her IVs, burn irrigation, and that atropine to boost
her respirations. Roy, did you hear the doc say go ahead?"

"I sure did. He grunted. Clearly."

"There you go, Craig. And I know you're with us on this wholeheartedly. 
It'll be our experienced three against his very youthful one." Johnny said, 
pointing a finger at the shoulder buried phone receiver in emphasis.

On cue, the woman's breathing grew striderous and noisy, but
working, because of the presence of the NP.

Brice gaped like a fish but finally he said, "Rampart, you're breaking
up.." as he dropped the phone into the box and pulled out the
radio antennae. He looked up a little stunned. "I just may be
in significant trouble now for doing that I'll have you know."

"I doubt that." Gage said. "Do you see the captains looking this way
right now?"

"Hank did. For a moment." Craig admitted, swabbing the old lady's
arm with alcohol. "He knows what we did."

"Course he knows. He saw us save her airway. He won't say anything
if we don't. Welcome to our world of little white lies, Craig. Sometimes 
you gotta do what you have to do." Johnny said, stone faced as
he kept on delivering careful oxygenated ventilations through the demand 
valve to help the woman out.

Bob Bellingham smiled and took the Normal Saline 1000 ml IV bag from
Craig's numb hands. "I'll take that, Brice. Thanks guys. Craig would've 
never allowed me to do that kind of stunt myself. Not in a million years."

Craig was still unconvinced.

So Roy reiterated. "Brackett'll back us up after he hears the transcript 
without question. That doc was dangerously slow. And that'll show
on the recording."

"I supposed you're right." Craig finally replied, rubbing the sweat and
dirt off the woman's skin with some gauze to be able apply the heart
monitor patches.

"Now there's a first.." Gage teased. "I thought I'd never hear the 
day when paramedic Craig Brice sided with someone who
wasn't following the book to the letter."

"I am capable of making amendments when somebody's life's on the line."
Brice protested mildly.

"I know. I saw you save my crewmates last year when that warehouse
ceiling caved in on them." Johnny smiled. "Thanks for that. I don't think
I ever properly expressed my gratitude back then."

"You did." Brice grinned.

"I did?" Johnny asked in surprise.

Roy mouthed silently. "I sent him a card on your behalf." and he pantomimed
a square in the air with two fingers. He quickly busied himself with adjusting 
the IV. flow when Craig looked up.

Johnny gushed in a neat cover.
"Oh, that's right. I forgot about that card. Heh. Must've slipped my mind.
I was still recovering in the hospital from my own mishap. That time was
for my leg, I think. Sorry I didn't recall it sooner, Brice."

"Quite all right, Gage. I'll forgive you for being forgetful if you forget the ...er
 deceitful atrocity that I just committed with our medical director today."

"Deal." Gage said enthusiatically, but then he thought about the word
atrocity some more and fixed Roy with a puzzled stare. "Atrocity?" he
mouthed back at Bob and DeSoto.

"To him it is.." Bob silently mouthed back, and Roy bobbled his head
in agreement.

-----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
Henry's frantic barking finally got Hank's attention. He knelt by
the basset hound's side. "What is it, boy? What's got ya all excited?"

Henry suddenly took off out of Captain Stanley's grip and loped high
speed around the burning house and up into the hillside brush beyond.

"Henry! Get back here ya crazy mutt." Cap shouted, starting to run after
him. But then he stopped in his tracks, rubbing his nose. Hank decided to 
delegate a solution before any other station crew noticed the new
embarrassing development. ::At least he's not at risk from the fire up there.::
he hoped.

Chet Kelly answered Cap's private band hail. "Go ahead for Kelly."

##Chet. Henry's taken off up the hill above the house. Go after him.
Make it look like you're just laying spray to protect against a brush
burn ignition from the house.##

"Got it, Cap." Kelly said. He craftily directed his hose team to
follow him while he cased the rough scrub for Henry's familiar
brown and white hide. "Just a little bit farther fellas, the grass is
real dry here." he remarked. "Oh second thought. Let's just catch 
this whole side, ok, gang?"

No one on the team caught on to Kelly's impromptu search pattern
for Henry and continued the sweep.

------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
Behind the burning house, the wind was picking up and Henry's
sensitive nose was working full time as he paced along the ground.

He got about ten yards from the flaming structure immediately 
next to the swimming pool when...

 ------------------------------------------------------------------------

Photo :  Fire behind a stucco beach house. Engine in driveway.

Photo : Chet on a hose closeup.

Photo: Johnny with the old woman who's burned.

Photo:   Captain Stone of Engine Eight helping Johnny
               resuscitate someone.

Photo: Henry the basset, outside and pointing.

Photo:  Brice Roy and Johnny all in dirty turnout.

Photo:  Cap sitting in the engine cab in deep thought.

*********************************************************************
From:  "patti keiper" <pattik1@hotmail.com> 
Date:  Thu Aug 26, 2004  4:11 pm 
Subject:  Straight from the...

 
...Henry heard something. 

His ears perked up, tracing frightened high pitched sounds that were 
laced with vocal distress.  Barking furiously, Station 51's mascot lumbered 
heavily across the singed and burning ground, sneezing from the heavy 
smoke as he went closer to what had attracted his attention from the street.

----------------------------------------------------------------------------------


Captain Stanley monitored his radio. He had sent Johnny Gage
into the house with Mike Stoker from the aerial bucket to case the 
upper story for their woman victim's cat. She had come to, 
refusing to transport to Rampart by Mayfair until her tabby was 
accounted for, one way or the other, as Lopez had put it in translation.

Hank put Marco in charge of making sure the woman kept
wearing her O2 as she watched the firefighters work. DeSoto had
long since joined the perimeter teams in preventing a spread of
the structure fire into the cliffside brush above and below the 
flaming beachhouse and had left the biophone near Lopez in case 
Brackett had more treatment to offer during their victim decided 
waiting delay.

Roy inwardly hoped that the senora would black out again
because of the deep 2nd and 3rd degree burns on her lower 
calves, giving them an excuse to transport her in legally.  

Captain Stanley reciprocated DeSoto's impatience, reading the
expression on his older paramedic's face. "I know, you 
don't have to tell me, adrenaline's keeping the fiesty ol gal awake 
and that's why you're all still here."

"You hit the nail on the head, Cap." Roy sighed, watching the water
pressure guages on the white engine cycle through as the teams inside
the bungalow used their lines off and on to suppress the fire surrounding
them inside the house. "Even Brice's no nonsense approach didn't
work with her. Nor did Marco's natural Latin American male charms."

Hank sighed. "Go see what Chet's up to. I haven't heard from his
team for four minutes."

"Still a minute early for checking in, Cap." Roy grinned, putting 
on his helmet.

"Call it an instinct. There's a reason why Henry rocketted out of here
and into the backyard and I wanna know why. Go. I'll take over the pumps
here for ya."

DeSoto needed no further encouragement, slipping on his SCBA mask
as he circled the route he remembered the basset hound taking
when he took off away from them.

---------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

"Vicki. Jump!  *cough* He's telling us to!" said a blond haired little boy from
the high crook of the eucalyptus tree where he and his best friends had
taken refuge when the Dona Arana's beach mansion had exploded.
Now their safe haven was aflame on top and in the grass below.

Barely visible in the rising smoke, Henry the bassett kept on barking
at the children far above him.

"I'm not jumping!" said the sports jerseyed seven year old girl. "I'll
break something." the tiny child sobbed, her face soot streaked.

"We gotta do something or the smoke'll get us for sure! *choke* Stevie's
asthma's already getting real bad.. Just use the climbing rope. I don't
think those firemen on the hill see us yet for all our waving."

Henry was enveloped with smoke and he disappeared. But
the children still heard him barking.

"Where do you think he came from?" Vicki said. "He's barking so mean."

"He's not mean. He's angry that we're still staying in the tree with the fire 
getting closer. I know that sound. That's what Apollo does when I climb up 
onto the garage roof when I'm not supposed to." said Christopher. "He's ok.
He's just trying to tell us to get down from here."

Stevie's head drooped a little lower inside the fourth child's arms.
Becky shouted to her three other friends. "His medicine's not working any more." 
the brown haired girl said, " I think it's because of all the smoke blowing up here."

Christopher made up his mind and he hung from his arms in mid air until
his ankles gripped the rope hanging from their club tree's horizontal branch.
"I'm going for help. Becky! Don't let him fall! Vicki, come with me!"

"I can't!" the tiny girl wailed.

"Yes, you can. I'll just bet this old hound dog'll let you pet him once you
get down here. Now come on!" Chris yelled right back.

Terrified by the thickening smoke, Vicki scrambled like a monkey
after her braver friend. "I'll be right back, Becky. Just keep Stevie
warm as you can. Mom says that helps with sick people."

Becky wrapped her legs even tighter around the gasping boy's
waist where they sat in the crook of the giant tree. Sparks rained
down around them, alighting tiny fires on wind whipped limbs at
their level. She screamed.

"Becky! We're all right! We're almost to the bot--" came Chris's voice from 
somewhere below under the thick blanket of smoke underneath them. 
But then the voice choked off as smoke stole his ability to speak and
started a fit of desperate coughing.

The scared, following Vicki soon fell into the same breathing trouble.

"Stevie. Hang on. I got you.." Becky squeaked. "I promise we'll stay up 
here where the air's good.  I won't let you fall."


Chris was blinded, he couldn't see. Smoke burned his throat and eyes to
the point where he lost all sense of orientation.

Then he felt a grip of canine teeth take hold of his ankle. He smiled,
gasping. "Vicki we're there! Let go! The hound's got my sock to show
us where the ground is." Chris celebrated.

A burning branch smacked down from the tree above onto Henry's back
and he yelped, letting go of the boy.  Chris and Vicki fell to their knees 
and brushed the smoking embers off Henry's coat, then they began
to crawl in the direction he led them, uphill.

They struggled to breathe but then they were out of the thick layer
of smoke on a slope.

Henry began barking in earnest at something up hill.

It was a hose team.

Chet gladly ordered the others to drop the hose to intercept them,
yelling over his radio. "HT 51 to Engine 51. Henry's led two children
to my location directly east of the house." he said, pulling off his air 
mask to offer it to the smallest child who was unable to stand.
"Both are suffering severe smoke inhalation."

##10-4. Two pediatric fire victims. Meeting you on the fly!## came 
Hank's radioed reply. ##Brice and Bellingham are with me.##

Another fireman scooped up the older boy as he fainted, making sure
that his masked offered air was being taken in with a listening check.
"He's still breathing."

"Get him outta here then. I got her.." Kelly shouted. He carried her
in his arms. Chet bent down to stroke Henry's coat. "Good boy!
*cough* You're such a good boy. Come on, Henry. Stick close
behind us." and he rose to jog to the street. "We gotta get this
little gal to Cap and some O2." his voice trailed off as he ran 
away from the dog.

Henry's happy grin fell. He glanced with a whine behind him.
Chet hadn't heard his renewed barking at all. The basset gave a 
slight cry of pain and  indecision before he loped for a second time 
back into the choking blanket of blue white fire smoke filling the tiny
hollow around the big tree.

---------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Johnny Gage was just handing the senora a very soggy tan Persian
cat when Chet and his team fireman burst out of the yard with the
two coughing children under their air masks.

"Over here!" Brice called out, waving Kelly over, "I'm already set up!"

Gage smiled at Marco. "Looks like her ride's gonna wait longer.
We've more victims. Call me if she changes."

"Right." Marco said to Johnny.

Kelly set his little girl in a sitting position leaning against Squad Eight's 
rear tire. "Craig, she's still clear. Not bubbling at all. But the boy fainted
on the way back. I think he took in a little bit more than she did. His
words aren't making any sense yet."

Brice nodded, handing his partner a second flowing oxygen mask for
Christopher even as he gave Vicki her own. "Understood. Bob, would
you determine his consciousness level while you deliver this? Thank you, 
Kelly. Now if you'll excuse us. We've got to contact Rampart base now." 
and Craig bent to his work over the biophone receiver.

Chet rose in relief just as Johnny Gage and Roy DeSoto ran over.
"They ok?" Johnny asked. 

Kelly nodded, testing his air regulator for remaining volume. "They're
just fine. Bit of smoke but that's all. If it wasn't for Ol Henry here, we
could've had a very different story to tell you."

Roy rubbed his nose around his helmet strap. "Henry?"

"Yeah, he found the kids and led them to my hose team, isn't
that right, Henr--" Chet broke off. "Aw guys, I swear he was right 
behind me. I even told him to follow us back out to the street."

Roy and Gage didn't lose their smiles. "Well, Henry does have a mind
of his own.  Why don't you go check for him by Cap and the engine.
Maybe he's already stretched out on the driver's seat getting praises 
galore from Stoker and Hank."

"Yeah. Maybe you're right. But keep an eye out for him, okay?" and he 
walked to where the white Ward still gleamed brightly in the sooty sunlight.

Five minutes after the kids and the old woman with her tabby shipped out
code three with Brice and Bellingham, Johnny and Roy noticed Chet 
was still frowning.

"Kelly? Problem?" Gage asked the quiet fireman. 

"Yeah. Cap hasn't seen Henry at all since he took off. Not yet anyway."

"That's odd." Roy said. "I wonder where he could be?"

Johnny rubbed his chin. "Any idea where he might've scented those
kids initially?"

"I haven't a clue, Johnny. All I know is that he came at us out of a lowish bowl
with those two kids hanging on to his hide. He had dragged them out of 
the worst of the smoke."

"He did what?" Roy said incredulously. "That's amazing."

"I know. Tell me about it." Chet's head bobbled.
Kelly glanced around where Cap was talking with Captain Stone.
"Look this fire's practically out. I'm going out back for a bit to take a
look around. Maybe he's chasing spooked jack rabbits or something
now that all the grass is gone."

"I'll let Cap know your 20." Johnny said. "Call me when you spot him.
I'll round up all the guys and we'll help you herd him back to the engine.
Until then, I think he deserves to enjoy a little fun, don't ya think?"

Chet's nod was small and uncertain.

Roy noticed. "Look if it makes ya feel any better. I'll circle around
from the other side of the house, and I'll meet up with ya, ok?"

Kelly didn't say anything and he paced off, still slightly worried.

"What's eating him? You didn't have to do that, Roy." Gage said.
"Henry's able to take care of himself. And he doesn't need Chet or
you fussing over him."

"I know that and you know that. But why am I starting to get all
nervous here? " Roy stated flatly. "He still hasn't come back
despite all of Cap's whistling."

Gage's grin faded away into a frown of doubt and concern,
"I'll let Cap know the game plan."

-----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Roy DeSoto saw them before he heard them. His radio's talk button
was depressed and over his mouth before he actually knew what he
was looking at. "HT51 to all units. I've spotted two more kids trapped 
over a smoke pocket in a tree. A hundred meters south of the house."

The frequencies from Engine Eight and 51 burst through his channel.
##Their conditions?## came Cap's voice.

"One little girl's all right. She's just crying. The boy with her seems
unconscious and he's breathing with difficulty."

##What'd'ya need to reach them?## came Gage's question.

"Lifeline and belt. Bring the O2. I'm heading down." said Roy.

##A rescue party is headed your way, Roy. Keep in touch.## 
said Captain Stanley.

--------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------


Roy put on his SCBA mask as his head slipped beneath the thick
layer of fire smoke and he found the tree by its shadow and
relative coolness. His shoulder smacked into it. Groping, he
found the rope and headed up in a climb.

At the fork in the tree, Roy removed his mask. The wind was
blowing fresh air off the ocean to where he and the two
children could breathe it in easily.  He pulled himself up
the last two meters. "Hi. How are you doing? My name's Roy
DeSoto and I'm a fireman. Can I look at your friend here?"

Becky nodded tearfully. "His name's Stevie."

"Can you breathe ok? Sounds like you're coughing a bit 
there."

"I'm ok. The smoke's not bad now. It was worse when
that dog first came and found us."

"Dog?" Roy asked.

"Yeah, that funny hound dog. He made Chris and Vicki leave with
him to go find us some help." Becky whimpered.

"You said when he first came by..."

"Yeah, mister. He started to bark at us again a while ago but he 
must've gotten tired of doing it. I haven't heard him for a couple
of minutes since you showed up."

Roy placed that bit of news about Henry's possible whereabouts
in the back of his mind for later. He pulled the boy's head into his 
lap where he straddled the tree trunk's fork. He found a rapid pulse
in Stevie's neck and saw retractions when Stevie inhaled, pushing
in above his collar bones. "Honey, what's your name?" he asked
the sweaty scared little girl. " Your friend's doing ok. My partner 
and others are coming to help me get you both down from here."

"It's B- Becky. Stevie's got asthma real bad. He says all it takes
is a little dust to set it off. I guess that's what happened to him.
We climbed up here to watch the fire. I thought we were
high enough. Christopher said we were." she sobbed.

Roy bent close to the boy's nose and mouth and smelled
medication. "Did you kids give him a blast using his inhaler?"
he said, replacing his air mask over Stevie's pale face.

"Yeah, Stevie told me to give him one."

"Where is it now?"

"It fell down there. That crazy dog found it and tried to hand it
back up but he couldn't reach high enough to give it to me."

Roy peered straight down and saw nothing but solid
gray waist high murk as the fire reacted to being washed down 
in the nearly extinguished house uphill with billows of steam. The
smoke layer rose to caress his ankles. "Johnny! Over here.
In the twisted tree down below. It's the only tree top sticking out
of the smoke down here."

"I see ya. Hang tight! Chet and I and Cap are getting down 
over there right now. How is he?!" Johnny shouted from his rocky 
perch in the sunlight, looking into the shadows. "I've got a stokes 
coming."

"His breathing's tight. Asthma attack. But he's moving air. He's 
gonna need a bronchiodilator a.s.a.p.!" DeSoto shouted back.
"He got some earlier but it's starting to wear off."

Roy cradled the stridorous boy against his shoulder, leaning
the boy's head over it backwards as he monitored Stevie's condition
and listened with an ear. "Just keep breathing Stevie. You're all right."

DeSoto heard a creaking rope and Johnny Gage's gloves appeared
out of the smoke layer. "Gimme him. I got the stokes right here!"

Roy handed Stevie down from the tree by the back of his collar.
Then he grabbed Becky and carried her down with him to the ground
following after. He felt Chet tie a life line to his belt as he kept his eyes
closed protectively against the air's sooty sting.

Then he was out of the tiny depressed clearing, helping Johnny
carry Stevie's stokes up the slope to the road beyond.

Cap radio'ed L.A. "L.A., This is Station 51. Respond an ambulance
Code Three to our l--"   Roy's shout stopped him in mid sentence.

"Not enough time, Cap. We can take him in Station Eight's squad 
as soon as we've stabilized him. We'll be faster that way."

"Belay that request, L.A. My paramedics will be taking in a child
with breathing trouble directly to Rampart using Eight's rescue squad."

##10-4, 51. Time out  09:32.##

Chet was peeling his air mask off, carrying Gage's unused medical
gear to put it away, when his foot struck a heavy warm body. 

It was Henry, lying completely still, covered in dark soot. 

Kelly got on his radio immediately. "Cap, Gage! On the double! 
I found Henry! He's down! Bottom of the hill along the stokes line."

Chet lifted up a leg and felt the dog's stomach for signs of 
movement and found only a weak rocking as Henry tried to breathe. 
Reaching down into the dog's mouth, Chet hooked Henry's tongue 
clear with a gloved finger until he got it hanging out between his teeth. 

Henry whimpered, choking on mucous. But then he woke up.

"Easy, boy.  It's ok, I'm right here." Chet whispered, kneeling
by Henry's face. "Stay down, boy. Stay still." he said, holding
Henry's singed muzzle. Kelly glanced down and saw Stevie's inhaler 
next to Henry's shivering front paws. "You found this boy? Good dog. 
I'll be sure Johnny and Roy get it just as soon as you're squared away
yourself."

Henry tried to wag his tail.

Chet took off his coat and covered up the nearly smoke suffocated
station mascot. "It's ok. You're gonna be fine, Henry.."

Johnny Gage and Cap pounded down the hill along the climbing 
rope with the O2 apparatus held between them for leverage.

Kelly shouted. "Over here!"

Johnny knelt quickly, taking Henry's muzzle between his hands
in a precautionary move to protect himself from a bite. 
"Did he fall?"

"I don't think so. Man, he went back for those kids," Chet
sobbed, "..and this.." he said, holding out the little boy's
tooth indented inhaler.

Gage ran careful hands over Henry's coat, looking for
liquid. "He's not burned at all. I think that smell is just his
hair. Cap, you got him?"

"Yeah." Hank said gently, taking over the hold on Henry's head.

Kelly said. "He wasn't breathing too well when I got here. Tongue
was in the way."

Cap nodded. "Johnny.... think we can move him?"

"Yeah.. I'm not a vet, but he's not tensing up anywhere with me
touching him like this. I think he's ok trauma wise. Sounds like
his only problem is the smoke he took in. I think you can let go,
Cap."

Hank did so, exchanging his hands grip for a valve mask on high
flow over Henry's muzzle. He looked up. "Kelly, Roy's ready to 
transport the boy. Go drive him in."

"But Cap.. I wanna stay with H--"

"That wasn't a request, Chet. Johnny and I'll handle Henry
and the little girl. Now, go.." Cap said, tossing Kelly
the medicated inhaler Henry had carried.

Chet went.

Captain Stone came running down the hill with a short board, 
passing Kelly going the other way. "I heard. Is he ok?"

"He will be if we can get some good air in him and 
warm him up some." Gage admitted with a grin.
"We'll take him to the V-E-T-S once we have that done.
Thanks for the doggy stretcher.." he smiled, taking
the kendrick board from Stone.

The three firemen slid Henry onto the board and strapped him
in for the trip up the hill. Cap followed keeping the O2 mask
nearby for Henry to use while he slowly woke up.


At the top, Becky met them, sitting next to Mike Stoker.
"There he is! Our superhero dog! Is he ok?" as they set
him on the ground, freed him off the board, and wrapped 
him up in thermal sheets for insulation.

"He'll be just fine, little miss. Although right now, I'm afraid 
he's got the same problem you do." Johnny said. "You both've
more smoke than air in your lungs then what's actually good for 
ya so before we get to see a doctor and the vets, you both
are gonna clean some of that bad stuff out of there, ok.?"

"Ok.." agreed Becky, brushing the hair away from her face
and the nasal cannula she was wearing.

Cap held Henry personally in his lap when Captain Stone
volunteered to take over the clean up detail on the house.
"Stoker, we'll give them five on this O2 and then we'll take
them in with the engine. We'll relay the girls vitals via radio
patch. Marco, get us set to travel."

"Right, Cap."

----------------------------------------------------------------------------------

On the trip in, Henry suddenly went limp two minutes
away from Rampart. 

Marco tried to keep the commotion up front in the cab away 
from Becky's notice as his crewmates hustled to help him.

"Are we almost there yet?" she asked Lopez.

Marco was watching what Cap and Johnny were doing
with Henry so closely, that he almost didn't hear her. "Hmm? Oh.
We've a block to go. We'll be pulling up to the ambulance 
entrance. Can you see that door yet?" he asked the child.

Becky plastered her eyes and nose and cannula against
the glass, peering out. "Not yet.."

Lopez thought. ::Please Henry. Don't be dead. Not yet.::

-----------------------------------------------------------------------------------


Roy was hanging around Dixie's desk when Lopez and
Stoker appeared around the corner with a devastated look
on their faces. 

Chet Kelly ran over to them instantly. 
"How's Henry?"

"He's out cold. Happened a minute ago. It's something past the 
smoke inhalation. Cap's with him now."

"Where's Johnny?" Roy asked quietly.

"He's with his patient in room three. You know he 
can't leave a victim until a doc gets there."

"Show me. Maybe I can do something.." DeSoto said.

Dixie, at her desk, overheard them. She followed the sooty 
firemen to the emergency entrance doors and out
into the driveway beyond.

Her heart just about broke when she saw Captain Stanley 
trying to ventilate the limp basset hound stretched out 
on an empty gurney with a mask two sizes too big.
 
She snatched up a pediatric sized resuscitation kit from a 
crash cart and tossed it to Roy. "Roy! I'll make a few phone calls! 
The doc at the animal shelter still has a link set up tied to our base 
station."

 "Through the HT this time? That'll work." DeSoto nodded and  
he threw his handy talkie on the bed,  tearing open the airway adjunct 
bag as the doors shut between them.

The firemen experimented and a baby ambu with hastily wrapped 
bandage tape around Henry's muzzle created a good enough seal 
for them to finally pump in oxygen.  Henry's gums began to pink up once more.
Roy could still feel a pulse in the artery at the point inside 
Henry's rear thigh. But it was irregular. "What?" he said
aloud. "That can't be." he sighed, as it thudded erratically against his thumb.

Cap noticed, looking up from Marco who was bagging
Henry carefully. "What's the problem?"

Kelly looked scared. "What is it?"

Roy swallowed, "I think Henry might be having a heart attack."
 
---------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Photo:  Henry barking up at something.

Photo: Four kids stuck in a tree's fork.

Photo: Chet yelling about something in the brush.

Photo: Henry down on the ground.

Photo: Henry with hands around his muzzle.

Photo:  An old lady giving a sheet wrapped Henry oxygen.

Photo : Roy looking shocked wearing a stethoscope.

*****************************************************************************
From :  Champagne Scott <chameleonkate@hotmail.com> 
Sent :  Friday, August 27, 2004 7:09 PM 
Subject :  Fast Times at Rampart Base : The Dog Day Afternoon 
   

Dixie McCall made the fastest phone call of her life.
And then she glared the fiercest that she had ever glared 
at the back of Kel Brackett's head. He was just completing an 
in house phone call with the new resident assigned to the 
paramedic base station. ::Boy, I sure wish Joe could've been
here or I wouldn't have found myself in such a ridiculous bind!::

Dr. Brackett finally rubbed the back of his head in sympathetic
heebee jeebies. He turned to find the source of his chills.
"Oh, no.." he moaned in warning at Dixie who was already
batting her eyes diplomatically. "What are you up to now?
I've lunch in five minutes."

"Nothing much." Dix demurred. "A single phone call. Just 
take it. Here." she said passing over the phone to Kel without 
meeting his eyes.

Kel took it as if it were a live rattlesnake. "Kel Brackett, Cardiology."
he said into the receiver.

##Doctor Kel Brackett! Land sakes! Am I glad it was YOU that sweet
young nurse found milling about the place. Now let's get down to
business, shall we?## said the voice on the other end of the phone.

Kel buried the red phone line on his shoulder. "Dix who the h*ll is
this? His voice sounds familiar, but I can't place him."

"That's Barney Coolidge. Don't you remember? Bah-ah-ah-ah-ah-ah-hhhh."
she said in a fair imitation of a Pygmy African wild goat.

Kel shuddered as the sound sent chills up and down his arms as
the memory speared home in recollection. "You didn't.." he warned.
"I thought I told you I'd tender a three day suspension on anyone on the 
staff, including you, who brings the next animal of any kind into my hospital's 
emergency ward!"

Dixie didn't ruffle one iota. "There aren't any animals in here. 
I didn't break any rules. I followed your stipulations to the letter."

"Good."

"Henry's not inside, he's outside on a gurney being barely kept alive by ambu."

Kel Brackett's face scowled into pure steel and he ground his perfectly
white teeth together. Already, the eggs from breakfast decided to sit
like stones in his stomach. "Dixie. Now cut it out."

She cleared her throat, tapping her foot and calmly indicated the live phone
on Kel's neck. Soon, Dr. Brackett's better sense of decorum 
among peer level colleagues finally won out over letting loose one of his 
legendary tantrums. "I'll deal with you later.." he promised voicelessly to his 
conniving head nurse, who hardly fought to keep a smile of triumph off of 
her face. 

Kel picked up the chatting phone and said falsely cheerful, "Ah, Doc 
Coolidge. What can I do for you this fine day?"  

Dixie smacked him on the arm for interjecting sarcasm.
Then she rapidly kicked on the speaker phone to keep Kel at bay with
civility as the conversation included any nearby overhearing sets of ears.

Dr. Brackett glared again at Dixie but stayed silent verbally when
Barney realized that he had the cardiologist's attention back. 

Coolidge gushed his needs. ##We've got to hurry. Now dogs don't
have myocardial infarcts in the same sense that people do. They simply
don't live long enough, even with their all meat diets, to build up 
the necessary plaques to cause one. Besides they all have collateral circulation 
of the coronary arteries..## he bubbled, ##..which allow the clots to "go around" an 
occlusion that would cause an MI in a human being. No, most likely
this basset hound is suffering something congenital brought out
by his sudden exposure to that fire smoke. Now what have you found, 
doctor, vitals wise?##

Kel stabbed down the speaker button until it clicked off back into phone
mode and he parked it once more onto a muffling shoulder. "Dix, how
much haven't you told him? I'm not going to look at that dog now, later,
next week, or even next year! I'm a busy man ! And a hungry one who's 
over five minutes late for his lunch hour." and he turned to leave, forgetting
about the phone.

Dixie caught the receiver as it slipped off its precarious perch.
"Kel, This isn't just a dog in need. This is Roy and Johnny's stationhouse
dog. Their beloved mascot. And he just saved the life of that asthma case
you just saw in Treatment Two. Along with three other children's lives. Now he
deserves a fighting chance! If you won't treat Henry right this instant, I'll
find Stan the new resident intern and ask him to take over."  She slammed
a hand down on the transfer button which sent the connection from
the animal shelter onto the HT frequency monitor board. Then she hefted
up a handy talkie reserved for mobile communications meaningfully.

Kel Brackett stopped her. "I'm the senior physician here! No one
is going to tell one of my residents to do anything." he groused.
"I forbid you to do it,  Nurse." he threatened.

Dixie's eyes flamed. "Ok. Shoo! Go on. Leave now for the cafeteria. I dare you.
Bon appetit. I hope your meal sits well after you're done cause later
you're gonna hear six full grown firefighters bawl like babies when their favorite
mascot dies for want of decent medical care a hundred feet away from
one of the best cardiologists this hospital has ever seen!" she hissed.

Kel's face twitched and his rage immediately simmered to non existence.
He growled and snatched away the live radio from Dixie's hand.
"Coolidge. Stand by. I'm going to talk to a paramedic who's been
with the dog right now."

##Roger that, we're standing by. Both Laura and I.## Barney beamed
through the channel.

Brackett sighed like a steam engine and bowled over half a dozen slow
staff members as he moodily plowed out the emergency entrance doors
as fast as his legs could carry him.

Roy DeSoto and the other firefighters stood shell shocked and rigid 
and there was only the sound of the hissing ambu working for Henry 
evident after Kel's stormy appearance. They all froze, locked eye 
to eye, in anticipation of Kel Brackett's wrath.

The blond paramedic licked dry lips. "Uh, hi doc. I got this Mayfair
all set up. Dix thought of i---  Uh... Let's see... I assume any care will fall around
pediatric cardiac standards.  I got alligator clips for the EKG monitor since
pads won't work,..a-a-and plenty of defib gel so a signal can get through
Henry's...thick.....coat hair.." he trailed off as Kel Brackett's face twitched
again as he took in the expressions of all of Station 51's men who were partially 
blocking his ambulance entrance with an obscene white fire engine.

"Dix.. " he finally sputtered. "This is absolutely.. the last time I ever-" he began.

"It sure is.." McCall peeped. "Thanks a bunch."
"Here, doc. I got the paddles ready so you can get a quick look for the doc." Roy said.
"He's ventilating well, doc. No aspirating." said Hank.
"Starting to twitch in his tail even.." piped up Chet.

Brackett's voice rose in a level above the babble.
"Everybody just... ShhhHHHHH! "

Everybody hushed. Except for Marco, who was being Henry's lungs. He kept counting.

"Get him inside here. And close the doors before anybody sees us.
Roy, in with me. And get Gage in here, too, from that treatment room. 
Stat." ordered Kel, embarrassed when gawkers saw the patient wasn't a child
needing a fast unload from the parked ambulance.

"I'll handle that.." said Dixie, dashing back through the automatic doors.
As she sidled past, she landed a wet grateful peck on Brackett's nearest 
cheek in gratitude. "I love you, Kel. Dinner tonight's on me!" she squealed,
slamming the ambulance door in his face after she clambered out
of the Mayfair.

##Doctor. Speak to me.." commanded Coolidge's voice over the HT.
"We haven't much time to play with from what I've heard.## came
the disembodied voice from the speaker.

"I'm here, Doctor Coolidge. What should I do first?" Kel asked over
the radio.

Roy stood by with his, as a backup source of information.

##Get me an EKG over the biophone. Now I know it already works,
since you got one off little William the goat just fine last year.##
said Coolidge.

Kel's face twitched again as he remembered his acute embarrassment
over the biophone when Johnny Gage had told him who the patient was
during that little fiasco.

Roy's face flushed crimson.

But Doc Coolidge caught none of the theatrics. ##Now from
right lateral recumbancy, place the monitor clips on elbows
and knees. Put the negative on the right arm, the positive on 
the left arm and both commons on both legs. Got that?##

"Second nature, Coolidge. Same as a small child's."

##Right you are!## Barney said. ##We'll get him squared away yet.
Now, send me a strip. I have a few theories as to what's ailing him
and I need your help to help me rule em out. Oh, and if he loses
that inguinal pulse, have your defibrillator there set to 200 J's at
the initial, then go to 300, then 360 stacked if necessary ok? The
cardiac meds are the same with lidocaine, epi and atropine. Just
use a two year old's dosages in a Ringer's IV.##

"Roy, got that?" Kel barked.

"Already on it." DeSoto replied. He hefted his talkie. "Doc.
Ringer's IV? How much to run in on the onset?"

##Best place for a puncture is the cephalic vein, top of the
foreleg halfway up. 200 mls for starters. I don't know if Henry's
been pulmonarily challenged.##

"His chest is clear." Kel said, listening to the still basset's
sooty ribcage. 

##Fine. Fine. All the better.##Barney dabbled over the radio.
##Now.. what's your strip showing on your people zapper?##

Brackett's eyes rolled up at the reference. But he dutifully applied
globs of conductive gel over Henry's shoulder and haunch and set down
the paddle rims over his body. "I'm reading some wide or tall P-waves; 
wide or increased amplitude QRS complexes and a few short-coupled 
PVC's with frequent ectopics. Hear them?"

The monitor gave a fluting bell every time the comatose basset's heart
skipped a contraction.

##Umm hm. I'm getting the same thing over here. Doctor Brackett, listen close.
I'm trying to narrow down the field of cardiac problem candidates
for Henry by being certain there's no chance of these three possibilities:
an atrial tumor, that's hemangiosarcoma to you Dr. Brackett, an electrolyte 
imbalance, such as hypokalemia from breathing so poorly during the fire, or a 
splenic tumor to get to my original suspicion of arrhythmogenic cardiomyopathy. 
That's fairly common in middle aged males such as Henry.##

"What's that?" Chet said from the ambulance driver peep window.

Coolidge heard. ##It refers to a recurrent or persistent arrhythmia in the setting 
of a normal left ventricular ejection fraction or an irregularity in how Henry's heart 
pumps oxygenated blood out to the rest of his body.##

"Oh, I get it." Marco said as he checked the flow of oxygen to Henry's
ambu tubing from the port in the ambulance's wall.

Cap was hunched as small as he could be at the foot of the cot where
Henry lay. "Want me to take over, Lopez?"

"Sure, my hand's cramping." Marco said.

Cap and he traded places at Henry's head.

Kel and Coolidge were oblivious to anything else around them.

Barney leaned into the radio speaker. ##Doctor, have your paramedic
begin treatment with a bit of nitroglycerin paste under the tongue.
Works wonders without the risks of Lidocaine. Oh, and have him
wear some obstetrical gloves administering it or he'll drop into
a faint when the medication bottoms out his blood pressure.##

"He knows." Kel said grinning.

##Let me know when it's been done. I wanna look at how Henry's EKG
responds.## said Barney the shelter vet.

Everyone held their breaths as Roy shoved in some nitro paste around
a hole in the tape wrapping Henry's muzzle with a cotton swab.

Everybody jumped when the rear doors flew open and Johnny Gage
climbed into an already crowded Mayfair patient's cab. "How's he
doing?"

"Got a pulse."
"Not breathing."
"Ruling out trauma specific cardiac injury." said Roy, Cap and Brackett
respectfully.

"Ok. Gimme.." he said to Cap, taking over Henry's airway care.

Hank sat back down onto his butt, sliding his helmet off onto
his lap and he just watched, biting his lip.

Kel continued his conference with the shelter vet. 
"Want a central line in to get a working blood pressure?"

##Nope. Won't help. There's already been some neurohormonal cytokines 
activation going on because of Henry's myocardial failure and continued
limited cardiac output. The EKG's pointing to that.##

"I concur. Just wanted to see if your angle agrees with mine." Brackett agreed. 
"How about initiating some cardioprotection at this stage of the game while 
we're waiting for that nitro to kick in."

##Sounds good to me. Get him armored while he's still ticking. I recommend
sotalol as a beta blocker to control Henry's tachyarrythmias. 10- 20 mg
by mouth every twelve hours...## said Barney.

"But he's still unresponsive.." Kel reasoned over the radio.

##That's no obstacle...## Coolidge's voice bubbled. ##We'll use procainamide, in
through his IV, in conjunction with that oral. Have someone inject half a mil for now. 
Slowly. Titrate it gradually after the sotalol's fully dissolved orally. We're doing so
non push, because that beta blocker is a negative inotropic. Don't want to
cause Henry to go into sudden death, now do we? He's fought so hard
today to make it to nap time.##

The firemen around Brackett chuckled.

##Don't be shy about giving Henry some taurine, Dr. Brackett. Its lack
can sometimes bring on ACM. Especially in dogs of the couch potato 
variety as these boys say Henry is.## Coolidge chuckled.

"I'm on it." Dr. Brackett grinned, injecting the vitamin into Henry's
I.V. line.

A minute later, all medications were delivered and the alarming
bleeps warning of PVC runs faded away.

"I think it's working, doc." Roy said, eyeing the monitor.
"Henry's beginning to breathe again on his own. Listen."

Brackett did, tapping Henry on the eyelid to see if he blinked.
He did, slightly. And then he yawned, craving more 02 as
his metabolism sped up.  

Johnny removed the rest of the encircling tape and left the oxygen 
tube near Henry's nostrils after he disconnected the ambu bag from it.

"Atta boy. Come back to us." he said, rubbing Henry's coat
and head briskly. His ministrations rewarded him with a moan
of anxiety as Henry muzzily came to. He was aware enough to
make a face at the bad tasting medication in his mouth.

"He's gonna live!!" crowed Chet Kelly. "All right! I'll radio Station
Eight's right now and give em the good news. And I'll tell Stoker 
to move Ivory off your door step, doc." The peek door between 
them snapped shut again.

The rest of the guys and both doctors celebrated. But Barney didn't for long.
He grabbed Brackett's ear once more. ##Now for diagnostics, Dr.
Brackett. We're going to need thoracic radiographs for his workup...##

"Chest Xrays?" Brackett said warily, knowing that no machine existed
inside the Mayfair.

##Umm hmm and a packed cell volume test.##

"A CBC.." Kel said in affirmation, using his human terms.

##Yep..and we'll have to get good serum biochemistries to rule out
congenital heart failure, thromboembolism or hidden complications in 
Henry's other internal organs. Oh, and an echocardiogram. I'll have to get
an accurate fix on measuring Henry's true LV ejection fraction to map
out future impact for a quality of life estimate for your fireboys
after today's little misadventure. Least I can do for such a valiant 
mascot.##

 
"Doctor Coolidge..."

##Oh and we'll need more taurine to add as a nutriceutical into
some new low salt food for him. If he's going to be responding
with his crew on fire calls regularly, he'll have to get in tip top shape
to prevent a repeat of this ACM crisis.##

"Doctor Coolidge!" Brackett stated more loudly.

##Yes, my boy?##  came Barney's reply.

"I'm afraid I'm going to have to draw the line with
emergency treatment only here. My board of directors
will have a hey day if I do anything more. I could be in serious
trouble if any of them finds out I'm even doing what I'm doing 
now."

##Oh, I wasn't meaning for you to run the tests there..## said Coolidge
on the handy talkie. ##You can transport Henry here to me so my staff and 
I can do it. After all, you're already conveniently inside of an ambulance.
That was very clever of your ER nurse to think of doing that ahead of 
time.##

Brackett's ears began to steam.

"Doc, I know you skipped your lunch in order to help us out. " said Hank.
"Tell you what, you've a very large, very loud, fire engine at your disposal 
to scatter any traffic out of your way going to the shelter and back again.
Please stay and help us with Henry until Coolidge takes over. Deal?"

And he held out a sooty, grimy hand.

Brackett just stared at it, feeling very outmaneuvered and outnumbered.

'I'm coming along, too." said Dixie from the peek window. 
"I'm the designated driver of this outfit.." she said, wearing street clothes.
"Hang on." and she flipped on the Mayfair's reds.

"Oh, no you're not." Kel boomed, immediately apologizing to the dog
when Henry sat up in surprise. Henry bolted for Roy's arms while
the others struggled to keep him from tangling his I.V.

"Oh, yes I can. My shift ended for the day five minutes ago." Dixie
McCall stuck her tongue out at her now powerless superior. "So sit down,
buckle in and play doctor quietly, Kel.  The sooner we leave, the sooner
we'll get back."

"You aren't authorized to drive a Mayfair!"

"Wanna bet? You authorized me as a field training nurse. The state says
I can. Hang on.."

And they were off under the vanguard of the white engine. Stoker belligerently 
rendered the street clear before them with a healthy chorus of horn blasts and 
sirens.

-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Photo: Dixie during a do it or die glare.

Photo:  A baby African Pygmy goat.

Photo: An angry manipulated Kel Brackett.

Photo: Roy and Johnny in an empty Mayfair.

Photo: A close up of Barney, "Doc" Coolidge, the shelter veterinarian.

Photo: Henry sitting in close up.
 
**************************************************************************
From:  "Roxy Dee" <laterrapincabesa@hotmail.com> 
Date:  Wed Sep 1, 2004  3:46 pm 
Subject:  The Shriek Box~~


Johnny Gage came whistling into the kitchen area and
helped himself to a hefty portion of Dale's Everything deep 
dish pizza which was Cap's meal offering for his turn at KP 
food detail.  "Must be Thursday afternoon." he said to no
one in particular, "I can set my watch by when the delivery
guy come with these."

"Speak for yourself." Roy said, overhearing from his checkers
match with Marco Lopez by the television table. "I'm getting
so good at guessing time of day by activity that I can guess
the actual minute by that pizza's physical temperature.." he 
bemoaned. "It's exactly 2:15 in the afternoon." he sniffed.

Gage huffed in amusement around a food stuffed cheek.
"Huh, don't blame me for the slow week we've had. Blame
dispatch and headquarters. They're so worried that we'll scuff
up the crown jewel of the fire department that all we've been given
is medical calls."

"I wouldn't say Ivory is the crown jewel of the department." said
Stoker from where he was doing the dishes. "She's more like..
a backup while we're waiting for Ol Red to finish up in the repair shop."

"Believe what you like. I'm just hoping you guys aren't bored and all
with being support O2 and bandaid backups for Roy and I when we
do get out of the station.." he emphasized.

"Thing's balance out, Gage. Give it time. It always does. " Hank
said from where he was working on a miniature ship in a bottle
model he was working on. "I don't know about you. But I'm enjoying
the light week of duty. I haven't seen a stretch like this since Woodstock
weekend."

The guys laughed.

"Well, at least we're getting in some good hobby time." Johnny decided.
Then Gage suffered a bout of deja vu when he spied Chet 
Kelly bent with industry over the same pile of gadetry and wiring 
that he had been working upon on the day that Ivory the white engine 
had arrived.

Being sly, he walked slowly and silent past Kelly so he could
get a good eyeful without being caught prying his nose into
Chet's self professed secret invention again.  Johnny spied
a new device that looked for all the world like a mini handy talkie
with a large red light attached to its face and a very long
radio antennae, longer than what the Battalion Chiefs used on
their high powered HTs at a fire scene.

Barely reining in an unbearable curiosity, Gage sidled away
from the table to sit by Henry on the couch to check his remote
EKG monitor on the harness he was wearing around his torso.
The holster was about to send a cardiac reading to Doc Coolidge
at the animal shelter. 

Roy noticed and excused himself from
his game. "I'll be right back, Marco. This'll only take a sec."

"Fine by me. I thought it was time for Henry's betablocker pill."

"Nah, that's at three. Forty five minutes from now." DeSoto
clarified.

"Glad you're keeping Henry's rehab schedule straightened out
in your head. I'm totally confused on what he needs and when still."
Lopez complained with a smile.

"It's a paramedic thing, Marco. " said Johnny from
where he was connecting Henry's canine EKG module to
the new phone they had rigged on the magazine table by
the brown leather couch. "To keep track of treatments and 
med deliveries. It kinda becomes second nature after a while. 
Though I'll admit, having Henry as a patient for this long's novel."
he admitted.

Henry looked up and whuffled in excitement as he saw the two
men moving to fuss over him again and he rolled over for a belly
rub, making it hard for Roy to connect the phoneline feed to the
transmitter.

"Hey you crazy hound.." Gage said, scrubbing Henry's ears.
"Back onto your belly. Roy's trying to get you set here."

Chet fixed the problem by tossing Gage Henry's favorite huge
rawhide bone without looking up from his busy project building.
He announced its airborne trajectory with a whistle.

Gage barely caught the bone with which to lure Henry's attention.

"Thanks." Roy said when Johnny only glared back at Chet for
the stunt.

The gray phone next to the couch rang. It was Barney, the shelter vet.
DeSoto picked it up and set it onto the table while he
plugged in the EKG wire from the readout into the module
wired to the send only phone. 

A few minutes later, the transmission of Henry's nightly cardiac record
completed and Roy hung up the phone receiver again. "Hope the
doc's happy with Henry's progress. I know I am. He's had no PVCs in four 
days now. I think he was right with that diagnosis of arrhythmogenic 
cardiomyopathy on him. His heart's no longer acting like an M.I.'s."

Gage disconnected the holster wire from the phone and wrapped it up
again into its bundle compartment on the side of Henry's EKG monitor
harness. "He's eating fine, drinking even better. Heck he even went
after a few of Stoker's ball tosses in the yard this morning, without getting
out of breath even once." he said, playing tug of war with Henry and the bone.

Cap smiled from where he worked. "Of course he is. He's in the best
paramedic firehouse in the whole county. I wouldn't expect any results
less than perfect from my men on a medical patient that stable."
he joked.

That brought up a question from Chet. "Hey Cap, are we getting billed
at the station for Henry's Mayfair ride to the Animal Shelter last week?"

"Nope. Doc Coolidge found some dog loving sponsors at a local
school to cover our costs. All it'll take is letting those kids visit Henry
once he's back on a clean bill of health to get the money." Hank
mentioned.

"Nice. How'd they hear about Henry getting sick?" Marco asked.

"One of the nurses walking by the ambulance that day saw us working
on resuscitating him out in Rampart's driveway, took up the cause
on her own through friends and relatives. And I believe that new medical
resident you guys tangled with the day that old woman was burned was
very instrumental in bailing our butts out of Henry's treatment bills, too."

"He was?" Gage said, surprised. "That's incredible."

"Yeah, Dixie McCall said that he felt guilty for being so new to
answering calls at the base station that he wanted to make it up to us
somehow for making us work her airway needs around him without an order." 
Captain Stanley related. "Miss McCall called and told me the whole story 
last night after we got back from that seizure call."

"And Brackett ok'd that?" Gage said, incredulously.

"Why not?" Roy smiled hugely. "Maybe that resident's on probation for
endangering his patient and finding funds for Henry could've been
Brackett's version of assigned community service as his unofficial 
penalty."

"Yeah? Well what about the official one?" Gage complained, remembering
the risk he took that day acting as a paramedic first with Brice without
a doctor.

"You know medical residents have immunity against incriminations
for their first six months working solo. That old woman suffered no
lasting ill effects." Roy reminded his partner.

"For that time, maybe." Gage interjected. "But what about the next time we
get him on the biophone line?"

Roy shrugged. "We'll just have to repeat our findings. Twice if we have to,
and...help him out. I've already talked to Brackett about having a senior
physician standing by next to him when he does take another of
our medical calls. So you can say that yes, I thought of you at the last
paramedic's meeting, you know, the one you missed for having to 
stay here with Henry on his first night back from the animal shelter."

"Thanks." Gage said appreciatively. "Brice'll sure be a lot happier
with that arrangement."

Right then the kitchen side door rang.  Chet Kelly left his work table
to go answer it.

Dixie McCall came into the station. She was dressed in earthtones
and her hair was down.

All the gang rose to their feet.

"Hi Dixie.." Roy said. "What brings you out here?"

"Oh, I wanted to see my favorite mascot.. that's why.." she crooned,
sitting down next to Henry and smooching his ecstatic freckled face
deeply. "How are ya doing, baby?" she asked, holding his head.

Henry's tail thumped loudly on the couch cushions as he ate
up the attention.

Then Dixie looked up at Roy and Johnny. "Got copies of Henry's
latest EKG strips handy? Dr. Brackett admitted to me last week that
he wanted to see how he's coping on Coolidge's rehabilitation plan."

"No kidding.." Hank said. "The way he grumbled last week, I didn't
think Dr. Brackett cared a bit about him."

"Stand corrected, Captain Stanley. " Dixie demurred. "Kel's just a big softy 
at heart once he's been proven wrong about a patient. Even if that patient's
cute, fuzzy and has big long floppy ears.." she said, smooching Henry's
silky head loudly where it nestled on her lap in between her arms. "Oh, 
he's looking a lot better today." she crooned. She leaned over to look
at the table side of the couch. "And you boys have stopped hoarding the 
spare defibrillator down here. Guess his cardiac readings are checking out?"
she guessed.

"They sure are." Roy said. "We just sent today's reading in a few minutes
ago."

"Well, I've got to go get to work. I only had a few minutes to spare."

"Here." Johnny said, scooping up the paper bag with Henry's old
EKG strips in it. "Give these to Kel when you see him. We'll pick
them back up again next rescue call."

"I'll do that. Thanks, fellas." Dixie said, leaving back out the side
door and waving.

"Wow, Dixie came all the way out here from her apartment to
see Ol Henry?" Gage said.

Chet quipped. "Yeah. Unlike some people I know, Henry's a real 
popular guy for a dog."

"Very funny. "Johnny said, squinting his eyes at Kelly.
"So what have ya been working on all week? The guys and I
are just busting out all over with curiosity over those things. Right
guys?"

No one else spoke up in support over Johnny's admission.

"Ok, ok. I'll admit to being the only one. So what is it?" he
pegged, poking a finger at Chet's shoulder in emphasis.

Chet Kelly looked up from the metal dust and oil he was
rubbing off of his fingers with a cloth rag to see all
of his crewmates regarding him eagerly for an answer.
"All right. All right, ya nosy bums. I'll let ya in on it, seeing
that none of you have the capacity nor the desire to put
any inventions on the market like I do."
Kelly motioned them over to the table. "Come on over
here and I'll explain a few thing to ya. Only don't touch
anything. Gage, that goes double for you.."

The gang gathered around.

Kelly slipped into lecture mode which actually suited him
this time since he was so passionate about what he
was working on. "You guys all remember the incident with
Moreno two weeks ago. Where we went rushing into
a vertical fire thinking that he was still in there, only he
wasn't, just his turnout coat?"

"Yeah, I remember that very well. " Hank said. "Stoker,
Lopez and Gage here took in more smoke than necessary
searching pointlessly for a man down who wasn't even inside
the building anymore."

"Exactly, Cap. That's exactly the word I'd choose. Pointless. Pointless
and dangerous. We all would've been a h*ll of a lot better off
if we knew as a department where everybody was at all times
without tying up the radio so much checking in to central command
every few minutes with position reports. That's always been real messy.
Now I was stuck in traffic the other day and I saw a bunch of surveyors
working in a ditch. You know the guys, the ones who measure how
much the roadside ditches slip after all our earthquakes we get all
the time?"

Everyone nodded.

Chet went on. "Well I had a long look at them while they were working
and I saw something interesting when one of them got himself caught
in a land sink by the legs and fell down. I was gonna rush out over there
and help him get free when his crewmates, ones that couldn't even see
him at all, suddenly arrived and got busy with their shovels."

"How'd they get there so fast?" Gage asked, entranced with the story.

"He sure as heck didn't use his radio. That got buried when the sand
gave way. I noticed something when they finally got the guy out. The man
reached down and touched something on his belt and I saw a light
go off. Bingo! I thought. That's how he did it." Chet said, sitting on
the edge of the top of a chair.  "It was a sheer revelation guys, I'm
telling ya. The whole way home I kept thinking,.. why is it that the
fire department's always be nine steps behind the other guys? It's not
fair. So I figured, we can make that kind of invention work for us, too!"

The rest of the guys scratched their heads. Johnny finally spelled it
out for Chet. "I don't get it."

"He had a locator on him, Gage. Plain and simple. About yey big
and attached to his belt with wires sticking out of it. Antennaes,
I suspect."

Hank's forehead creased. "Ah, I see, a motion detector."

Chet nodded eagerly. "Yeah, one that knew that he had become
still and sounded an alarm. That thing on his belt must have been
some kind of personal alert safety system that kicked in the moment
he got into trouble."

"Wow.." Marco remarked. "But how does what you saw apply to
us, Chet? We don't work with land surveying, not often anyways,
unless we're called to a cave in."

"I'm getting to that." Kelly said. "Just hush a minute and let me
show you what I've got." and he pointed to the two or three black
boxes on the table including the modified HT that Johnny had
noticed earlier. "Now I figured out a few things on my own.
A simple motion detector that works can run on a tiny 9 volt
battery in a nested compartment here. Reads anywhere, even
through smoke. I tested it in the shower."

"The shower?" Gage chuckled. 

Kelly held up a hand. "Hear me out. Just hear me out. Where
else was I gonna find safe smoke? Steam works just as well.
I hadta test out heat bearing ability, too."

"Well how does a motion sensor help us as firefighters, Chet?"
DeSoto asked reasonably.

Kelly held out a small box, "Here, put this on." he said.
"Now go walk around and don't stop until I tell ya. Just flip on
the little switch on the side until that red light comes on."

"Ok," Roy said and he did what Chet asked.

The guys watched Roy move around the table in circles.

"Nice invention, Chet." Hank quipped. "Now we'll be able
to tell just how many miles we cover each week to measure up
to how bad our aches become." he said sarcastically light.

"I'm not finished, Cap. Hang on a minute." Chet motioned.
"Ok, Roy. Now go down on the floor. Like you were in
 a fire and a roof fell on top of ya."

Roy crouched down and got onto his belly. "Like this?"

"Yeah, like that.." Kelly said. "Now don't move for 30 seconds."
Then he didn't say anything and simply pointed to the second radio 
like device that he had switched on that rested on the table. It had a 
yellow light that was blinking on top of it. 

Very shortly the large talkie device on the table had a loud
shrieker device go off that just about shattered all their eardrums.

Henry protested in earnest with howls of his own.

Kelly scrambled and apologized, turning down the device's volume
control. "Sorry about that, guys. Sorry, Henry.. I forgot I tested this
receiver outside this morning."

"Congratulations on inventing an airhorn, Kelly. I'm proud of ya." Gage
said thoroughly unimpressed and shaking out his ears. He moved
to the pizza platter again for seconds after helping Roy back
up onto his feet.

"No, wait Gage. Come back here. It's not done cycling yet. Listen."

A speaker came to life on the side of the unit and started a pre-recorded
message in Sam Lanier's voice that they all recognized as having
originated along a relay from the main dispatching offices. 
##Mayday. Mayday. Mayday. Detector number two has been activated.
Attempt radio communications to locate a fireman detected in a 
horizontal position and motionless for longer than 30 seconds.
May day. May day. May day. ##

Captain Stanley startled. "Wait a minute there Kelly. You mean to tell
me that you linked that funky radio gadget straight to Headquarters?"

"No, Cap. This is just a side band that Sam and I rigged on a spare
transmitter. We're off the official air. He was just as enthused about
this whole man locator device I learned about, as much as I was. In
fact, he was the one who was all gung ho making this recording
and airing it from work with his manager's full approval." Kelly said.
"We're unofficially calling these things shriek boxes."

"Shriek boxes?" Gage asked, chewing.

"Yeah, well I knew nobody would warm to the idea of
naming them Kelly boxes. Especially you, Gage."

"You're right about that." he said without barbs.

Now the gang was mystified, when the transmitter kicked
on a light on the belt unit that Roy wore, telling him that
the message had been delivered to the tower.

Cap picked up the broadcasting radio receiver and switched it
off. "Just what kind of range do your belt things have to reach
the transmitter?" he asked in a hushed voice.

"I don't know, Cap. I haven't tested it yet in the field. Sam and I
are still pulling the paperwork to get these testers approved
by the chiefs to work at an actual scene."  Chet said.

Stoker was frank. "Cap, if the bugs are ironed out, do you realize
how many firefighter lives this device of Kelly's could save?"

"I'm trying not to get too excited." Hank admitted, peering at
the device in his hand, marveling at the simplicity of it.
Then he met Chet's eager eyes. "Can we do that live test again?
I mean, is Sam ready for it?"

"Cap, that was a pre recording on automatic frequency set to
channel nine. The same nine on our handy talkies. We're clear
to use that channel for another three days he said. That's why he
left the loop open when he went on vacation. Yeah, we can do another
live test, anytime. As long as we're under Sam's home repeater tower
umbrella. That's the only one he's allowed access to for this home project of
ours."

"How does it work with water? I mean does it still work, getting
wet? We are usually swimming in hose wash." Marco asked. 

"I haven't tested them yet that way either." Chet said. "I only got to
the level liquid mercury switch to activate on that remote announcement
setup when the bubble hits either of the terminal brackets inside.
I used old transistor radio chips to serve as triggers."

"Let's go find out, shall we?" Hank said, motioning for Chet
to gather his tester units into a bundle. "Who wants to
be the lost man to wear the belt unit? We can rig the reel
line from Ivory for a light spray out in the backyard."

Everybody's hands went up just as the call tones went off.

---------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Photo:  Dixie hugging Henry.

Photo:  Gang chatting in the kitchen.

Photo:  Chet Kelly's PASS device.

Photo:  Cap with a huge amused smile.

Photo:  Johnny with his mouth full of food.

Photo:  Chet confiding details to Gage in a close up.
 
**********************************************************************
From :  patti keiper <pattik1@hotmail.com> 
Sent :  Thursday, September 2, 2004 10:33 AM 
Subject :  [EmergencyTheaterLive] The Markers Move 


##Stations, 18, 36, 99, 24,..51. Library fire. 12400 Washington. 
Cross street Milton. 12400 Washington Ave. Cross street Milton. 
Citizens report persons are trapped. Time out. 14: 27.##

Johnny Gage quickly grabbed some of Henry's dog food and
wrapped up his pill and tossed it to him on the way out. "Early's
better than later, Roy. He's set."

"Sounds like it's gonna be a hot one this time." remarked
Chet. "They probably had no one else to spare for a fire call. Looks
like we're going to be polishing Ivory up a storm come supper time."

Not having any place better to put them, Kelly hung onto the four
shriek boxes and radio transmitter device, bringing them with him 
as he ran for the garage.

"Looks like." said Mike Stoker, throwing on his jacket and running
over to the white engine. "I promise I won't get picky about the chrome."

Cap snapped out an order. "Gage, DeSoto. Follow in the squad. 
With all that paper, this is going to be a real fast fire with the heaviest
kind of smoke. We'll need your spare air bottles and lifelines. Go call 
us in, Roy."

"Right, Cap." and he picked up the acknowledging mic. " L.A., 
Engine 51-A and Squad 51 are responding. KMG 365."



Soon, they were charging down the boulevard to the east where
already a plume of ink stained the sky, adding a widening tail to 
the city's smog belt.

In route, Captain Stanley overheard another engine get to the
scene. ##L.A. This is Station 24. We've multiple victims of
smoke inhalation. Respond three additional ambulances and
a sixth alarm. Fire containment's a priority!## called out that
captain. ##Engine 51-A, what's your ETA on your aerial cannon?##

"Stoker?" Hank asked.

"Four minutes." the engineer replied over the roar of the engine
and sirens.

Hank gave the estimate over the air and stated that extra paramedic
gear and oxygen was arriving with Squad 51. He heard Craig Brice's
entire station called out for the sixth assignment.

Then, they were there.

People were scattering like milling pepper from the stricken three
story glass and steel structure and fire crews already on scene were
hard pressed to get them clear of exploding glass. Cap pulled out
his HT from his jacket pocket. "Engine 51-A and Squad 51, on scene."

##Station 51, Your time in : 14:36.## bookmarked L.A.

Captain Stanley spied a chief's car and he pulled off his mirrored
sunglasses. "Battalion Nine, where do you want us?" he asked
over the HT.

##Hank. Cover the west side, main entrance. Most of the victims are 
being recovered through there. Have your engineer rig your four incher 
from Engine 99 for a heavy attack and I'll send another over to man your 
ladder's water cannon. Tell your men going in to use caution. The roof is 
unstable. We've had multiple explosions.## said Battalion.

"10-4. Setting up on the western exposure." Cap nodded.
Then he contacted Roy and Johnny over their vehicles' band.
"Engine 51-A, Squad 51. Join the paramedic search teams with 
full air gear. Marco and Kelly will dog you on an anchor hose from
Ivory. I want solid life belts on all four of ya, doubly knotted."

Johnny, Roy, Chet and Lopez all copied Hank's barked order
over their radios and rushed to carry it out.

While they were gearing up in the shadow of the trucks, Kelly
jogged over, passing out his novel shriek boxes. He clipped one
onto the SCBA harnesses of each of them. "Don't rely on these at
all. This is the water test fellas. Sorry it's gonna be such a b*tc*. 
If you drop to crawl around flames, tell Cap on channel nine
and he'll reset your unit manually. I already got him monitoring the 
transmitter's band. The units are tagged one through four and will 
label themselves. I got three, Marco's four, Roy and Johnny's are one 
and two respectively. Got it?"

Johnny grinned as he fitted into his face plate and tested
the air flow out of his regulator. "We're gonna do this testing
thing around the chief?"

"What better way to sell something than to demo it
up front, eh? Cap's all for it cause this fire's just begging a
collapse chance greater than normal. He said that he'll take any 
insurance he can get. " Kelly quipped.

"Think these things are gonna work?" Gage asked Roy
on the side when Chet was busy replacing his helmet
and out of earshot.

"Who knows. Trial by fire, I guess." DeSoto smiled craftily.
"If they don't work, it won't matter. We've more than enough
fire crews milling about to bail us out. Hey, looks like Brice and 
Bellingham are on our quad's team. We're gonna be totalling 
six very soon."

"That'll be a whole h*ll of a lot safer. Now I know why I love
Battalion Nine's style of command. You take Brice. I got Bellingham." 
Johnny groaned. "I don't think I can stomach Craig picking apart 
Kelly's invention once he gets wind of it."

"Protective of Chet's little gadget, aren't we?" Roy teased.

"You're d*nmed straight I am. What happened at the station's
simply incredible. I think the idea'll spread through the whole
entire fire department like wildfire, Roy. And not only in California."

"Gage, the raging optimist." 

"I'm not the only one. Look at Chet. He's grinning like a kid
in the candy store."

"About picking a flank man." Roy teased. "You're gonna take
whom you're gonna get." 

"Ok.  Anchor's in." Marco said, passing Kelly the uncharged
four inch from Ivory's bed already laid out from Ivory where Stoker 
had mated her to the Y line from 99's. "Mike's set for us. We're 
enabled for full pressure on demand when we want it. I just verified
with 99's."

"Let's do it." Kelly said, getting ansy as he saw two more firemen
leave the stricken building with multiple walking wounded for
the ambulance crews. As yet, there were no criticals being found
to warrant immediate paramedic attention. The team of six stayed 
on the job as a point to point search team.

Roy glanced back as the blocks and feet on Ivory were extended
for the ladder's deployment. It was a soothing comfort to feel the bucket's
looming presence hanging over all their shoulders. Soon, a high
force arch of water stabbed into the fire's gut and split the worst
of the roof burn into two weaker halves. 

Desoto heard the snarling blaze's growl falter into a belch of steam. 
::One point for us. I'd rather it rain runoff on us in there instead of 
all that burning chaff from the ceiling tiles.::  He gripped his ceiling 
hook even tighter as they approached the flame pocked library.

Then, they felt the perimeter firefighters shove them in the right 
direction towards the axe gutted main doors of the library. 
Roy sighed in relief when he saw that body sheets weren't dotting 
the sidewalk before lurid smoke swallowed them up.

Craig Brice's glove gripped Roy's shoulder. "To the left.
I see some doors that aren't chalked off yet." 

DeSoto nodded, giving Chet and Marco behind them 
a sharp signal, showing them where he and Brice were 
headed to next.

To their right, Gage and Bellingham branched on the parallel
row of doors to that side of the ascending fire engulfed staircase.

Bookshelves and carpetting both, were alighted with hungry
fire. Marco and Chet had their work cut out for them. They
set their nozzle to the largest fan and snuffed out a path
for both parties to navigate through. All the while, Kelly
kept one eye on the uppermost story ceiling. So far, no smoke
seeps or heat stains were warping through the grid of
tin tiles above the darkened suspended chandeliers.

"Man, what a shame.." Chet shouted to Marco. "This is such
a classy Victorian building. Must be a hundred years old, at least."
 
"It is. We passed the foundation plaque on the way in."
Lopez replied. He snapped back into a close attention of
the way ahead when a gust of smoke visually smothered all four
paramedics' locations. Chet drove the hose fan over their
heads to push the smoke up away from them. 

When it cleared, he saw five doors were open and yawning fire 
as the two teams kicked them ajar one by one beneath
the stairway and fresh hot pink chalk marks glowed in the firelight.

Then he heard Johnny over channel nine.
"Shriek Two is crawling, Cap. I think I see something!" he
told Hank, monitoring the safety unit's transmitter channel.

Johnny didn't move until he saw the yellow reset light flash
on his shriek box. Then he dropped down to the floor 
and crept under a studying desk. There he found a man,
unconscious, lying unmoving on his back. "I got someone!" 
and he pulled off his glove to feel for a neck pulse. "He's alive.
Cap send in a team fifty feet forward. Tell em to hook 
a left ninety behind the grand stair case. I'm at the third door."

##Gotcha, pal.## said Captain Stanley. ##They'll be
there in thirty seconds. Stay inside. Roof's fine out here.
Another squad's here take over your man's care.##

Gage shared his air with his found victim while Bellingham
shared his with Johnny as they monitored the man's 
struggling breaths. Then the reply team arrived to
take him away and they helped lift him onto a large
firefighter's shoulders for the trip out. Gage let go of
his carotid reluctantly.

Johnny heard Roy give out a crawl warning just as
he had done, and he held his breath. 

But that was all that came over the radio. 
No other person had been located.

"Ok, Bellingham." Gage gasped in his air mask. "Let's keep it going."

Craig had finally noticed the changed channel on  HT and the
yellow light flashing on Roy's SCBA straps. "What's that?" he
asked.

"A lucky charm. I'll tell you about it later." DeSoto grinned.
"Something one of the guys cooked up. Now let's get out
of these study rooms before we cook."

Chet suddenly whistled, off the live frequency, and it carried over 
the crackling fire.

Immediately, Roy and Brice along with Gage and Bellingham
jogged back to Kelly for news, who was still on the main fire
fighting channel. Chet  motioned for them to lean in close
and he peeled off his mask. They parroted him for better hearing 
ability. "Second floor's been searched." Kelly coughed.
"Two found and safely out. We've been ordered to go to
the third. First floor's now clear thanks to us. You just searched
the last final areas that were left. Ready to head up?"

The four paramedics glanced up the carpet flaming staircase.
"Yeah.." said Gage. "That doesn't look too bad. Go ahead
and hit it."

Chet gave a thumbs up and slid his mask back on.
Kelly and Marco braced themselves and swathed the wide
wooden rail staircase with cold water, snuffing the fire stripe
they saw burning there until they were replaced with steaming curls.

They all jumped with a bookshelf from the second story fell over
the loft rail and down to their level. Chet hit that, too, to keep their
reverse escape route open.

Johnny and Roy poled checked each stair's surface as they climbed to 
test for weak spots. But there weren't any.  They rose past
the second floor. Then they wrapped up to the third.

A set of ornate wooden doors greeted them at the top.
Brice, in the front of the team, peeled off his glove and felt the 
door for heat.


An explosion blasted them backwards and set Craig's hand on
fire because he was reaching for the still cool door handle.

All six firemen went down. And just as quickly, they got up again to
beat back the fire in the doors with an aggressive water stream.

Gage and DeSoto and Bellingham dragged Craig into the 
raining hose water to drench him down thoroughly. After a delay,
Brice began to yell when he realized that he'd been burned.

Gage whipped off his mask and grabbed Brice's shoulders.
"Craig. *cough* Let me see you. How's your face? How's your face?
Is it ok?"

Brice nodded, moaning. Finally he relaxed his arm enough for Johnny 
to check his left hand. "Second degree on most, Craig. Third only on 
your thumb. No, quit fighting me. We've got to keep it under the water. 
We gotta get the heat out of it."

Chet Kelly shouted. "How is he? Is everyone else ok?"

Roy replied. "We're fine. It's Brice's hand. Flames caught it
just when he went for the door handle."

"Shut them back up again. Steam'll from the water I just
sent in will knock out all the fire in the room. Nobody's
still alive in there. It's too hot." Kelly said. 

Roy swept an eye down to all the 51 gang's shriek boxes. They 
were still showing steady red. ::Functioning, despite a bath. 
Second point for us.:: he thought.

Marco Lopez was watching the ceiling above them grow
molten."I'm seeing some sag. Let's hug a wall guys. Now..
We'll have to find another way out of here with him."

The six firemen dashed with Brice supported between 
to the nearest wall, just as heavy pre-flash smoke descended
to below their knees. 

"It's gonna go!" Gage shouted, looking up towards the roof.

"Yeah, but which part?" DeSoto asked, gasping. "I can't see
anything."

Chet Kelly gripped all of their shoulders. "I've got an idea.
Gimme your shriek boxes."

"What are you doing?" Johnny said.

"Hear me out, Johnny. I'm gonna use em as markers. There are four 
pillars in the room, one in each quadrant of a square around the room, 
remember? I'm gonna put a shriek on each pillar and then we'll wait until it's over
right here, where we're safer. The ones that finally holler after things are
done is where the ceiling came down. Cap can tell us which ones went
off! Then we'll be able to get out through the spot that's still showing shriek 
quiet. We won't need to see where we're going."

"*Cough* I just hope to G*d you don't get them mixed up, Chet. Or
we're bacon. One. Two. Three. Four. North. South. East. West."
Gage suggested.

"I'm way ahead of you, man." Chet said, crawling away from
the others on his life line with the four shriek boxes in his hands.

Roy radioed to the outside on channel nine. "Cap. We're gonna
sit through a flash. Looks like the ceiling's gonna cave centrally."

##Get out of there!##

"We can't. Not yet. Brice's injured and we'll be too slow to
reach the entry doors. We're along an exterior wall that's
safe enough and we've got a plan, now listen close..." Kelly
gasped, taking a breath of air out of his loose dangling mask.

A low growling rumble made the ceiling fire ripple and the 
monster backflash finally came. 

All five firemen fell onto Chet's rope as a furnace
hot belch of fire rolled low over their backs. Marco lifted it
away from them with the upturned hose water fan as it passed by, 
yelling in defiance.

Then it was over and the smoke thinned and lessened.

"Chet!" Gage called, tugging on the rope snaking across
the floor. His grip on it was tugged back. Twice. Gage
smiled. "He's all right out there."

"Thank God. " Bellingham said, holding Brice's injured hand
under water where it trembled to cool it. Brice began to droop.

"Hey. hey..hey.." Johnny shouted. "Stay up, Craig. Fight it." he told
Brice. "You're gonna haveta help us get you out. It's bound
to be a longish climbing obstacle course out there. I'll letcha black
out once we're outside."

"U- Understood.." Brice mumbled as his partner gripped his
face to encourage him back to full consciousness.

Kelly crawled back into their arms just as the ceiling fractured.
All six firemen felt the air gust and change color around them 
when all that tonnage hit the carpeting. The smoke went from 
orange brown to gray black and the temperature dropped by
dozens of degrees.

Chet pulled up his legs to his knees as a main beam from
the ceiling bounced on top of where he had just scrambled.
"OH, that was too close.. Ahh. I hate this job! " A few breaths later,
he delivered what they all wanted to hear. "It's done guys. 
Got em in place. Keep an ear out on that HT band on nine."

Soon, Hank Stanley's voice called out shakily
over the HT. ##Kelly, Units one, four and three are barking. Your
butts intact in there?##

"10-4. All six souls. Gotcha. Moving out to the south. Thanks
for the info, Cap. I owe you more than one. "

##Quite the reverse, pal.## said a very relieved Captain Stanley.

Roy added onto Chet's transmission. "Craig's going shocky. 
We'd appreciate some med gear to use when we get out there. 
It's Brice's hand and he's suffering possible explosive impact effects."

##Consider it done.## 

----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Johnny Gage and Roy DeSoto finished loading up Craig Brice
into the ambulance and into Bellingham's transporting care.
The groggy paramedic had checked clear of any internal injuries 
and was only on light O2 with just a precautionary I.V.  His hand
was badly burned but they all thought it would prove fully salvagable
in a few months time.

The 51 gang watched his Mayfair depart. 

Then Captain Stanley set a supporting glove on Chet Kelly's
shoulder. "I'm sorry your pet project had to burn. But you sacrificed 
them for a very good cause. That was one of the smartest ideas I've
ever heard come out of your lips, Chet." 

"Thanks, Cap. I appreciate it."

"So do I. " said Gage as he and Roy cleaned up where
Brice had been treated to get set for the next walking
victim from the fire.

"What shall I do with this?" Cap asked Chet, holding up
the shriek box tower transmitter.

"Give it here. I'll give it to Sam next time I see him. Maybe 
he can put it up on his fireplace mantle or something as a souvenir. 
I'm done playing the mad inventor. But it sure was nice while it lasted."
he grinned, rubbing some soot off of his face.

"There's always next time, Chet. Those shrieking things were a sound 
idea." Gage smiled. "Promise me that you won't give up on it entirely?"

Chet studied the ground with disappointment showing bright on his 
weary and flushed face.

"There's always someday." Roy reassured, laying along side Johnny's 
remark.

"Yeah, someday I guess." Chet Kelly sighed, then he looked
up at the smouldering gutted building thoughtfully and
a sparkle returned to his gray blue eyes.
"Maybe when I'm older. And grayer."

"There's the ticket." Johnny quipped, turning to
greet their next victim being helped to walk by the 
strong arms of Vince Howard, the policeman.
"How does it feel to be a future millionaire, Chet?"

"Don't know. I've got too much soot in my eyes to even
think about it. Right now, the only thing I can picture is a 
hot shower, a soft bed, and maybe a rivetting chess match for 
later. Are you game? I'm officially challenging you." 

"Right after I win my match against Roy." said Johnny.

"You're on."
               

                                 FIN

--------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Photo:    Johnny and Roy in air bottles, tense, looking at a fire.

Photo:    Chet in firefighting gear with another fireman.

Photo: A factory fire view from over the hood of the squad.

Photo: Brice and Roy looking at each other in the squad.

Photo:  The whole gang climbing around after a roof collapse.

Photo: Cap and the whole gang grinning in turnout.

Photo: Gage on the biophone in smoke.

Photo: Chet and Roy and Johnny recreating at the station.
 
*****************************************************************************
 FIN                                     
                                             §§ The White Engine  §§

                     :)   This episode is dedicated to the inventor of                        :)
                           the PASS device which saves countless firefighter 
                     :)    lives every day.                                                                       :)                                                              

 
 The Story Unfolds..

Season Two, Episode Fourteen..

§§   Twisted   §§
 
 ****************************************************** 
From: "Roxy Dee" <laterrapincabesa@hotmail.com>    
Date: Wed, 08 Sep 2004 07:24:13 +0000 
Subject:  [EmergencyTheaterLive] Dr. Orange to Emergency STAT~~ 


Dixie McCall sighed expansively as she took an
elicit sip from her cup of ice cold coffee. ::This tastes 
absolutely heavenly.:: she thought, as she dragged yet
another chart from the stack carousel out for viewing.
Not even aware of it, she began mumbling. "Let's see...
an ankle in Room Three. X-rays ...Ordered. In Two,
an arm laceration that Joe's suturing as of..." she
peered at her delicate silver banded watch. "..five
minutes ago... Kel's in Radiology viewing the latest
chest films on Station Eight's downed fireman. Who
was that again?.." She flipped a few pages, checking on
that.

"Paramedic Craig Brice. Smoke inhalation from his playing
the hero game. And no, he won't be needing a bronchoscopy
session with Dr. Irons." answered Carol Evans as she
returned from answering a patient light down the hall from
the emergency ward's main desk.

McCall startled, then caught herself when her coffee spilled
over her hand and onto the formica desktop.

"Oh my word! Dixie! Did you just burn yourself?" Carol gasped.

Dixie smiled. "I know better than to hang onto a cup for too long
around here if it's still piping hot.  This, is nowhere near that."

Carol made a face. "Ugh.. How can you drink it then?"

McCall looked up at her senior nurse over the bridge of
her nose. "When you inherit my head nurse's position someday,
you'll find out the answer to that one." She didn't skip a beat,
"What was the light for? I saw it but I knew you were closer." 

"Bedpan, Room Four. The Iverson boy needed some help
using it. He's the left tib fib fracture that's still waiting to be set."

Dixie's smile fell into one of self admonishment and she snapped
a couple of fingers in sudden memory. "I knew I was forgetting
something." And she reached for the phone.

Carol stopped her. "I've already called Orthopedics. Dr. Allan
will be down to cast him up in ten minutes."

Dixie sighed, patting Carol's hand in gratitude. "Thanks. You're
a dear. I'm just horrible with organizing anything on slow days like
this." she said, mopping up her hand and the desk counter with a
wad of tissue.

"Now that's something I understand completely, Dix. How about
we mosy into Five and see how Dr. Morton's doing with that
fever case? We still need to do a full chart on her."

"Sounds like a plan. Then, afterwards, it's two cups of HOT coffee
for the both of us in the nurse's lounge." Dixie promised. " I gotta
jump start the inside of my head sooner rather than later. My right
big toe's itching and that means we're gonna get busy.."

Nurse Evans laughed. "Really?"

"Oh yeah. I've learned to read the tiny little signs I get physically
when all my intuitions and instincts slam shut upstairs on the
slow business days." Dixie said, closing her chart and returning 
it to the carousel.

"Gee. I don't think I ever know what my feet are doing, unless
they're barking at me for covering a double shift." Carol conmiserated.

"Doubles? Heh. Try working a 36 hour shift. Then, you'll learn the
true meaning of foot agony." she quipped. "I usually have to crawl
home."

The two nurses had almost passed by the bulky corner of
the all glass paramedic base station when the seldom used
red phone on the wall rang by the paramedic line's reel to reel 
transmission recorder began to buzz urgently. Dixie
waved off the student nurse supplying the drug cabinet to pick
up the call herself. "Rampart Emergency. This is Nurse McCall."

Carol watched when Dixie's face lost all expression and took
her cue from that. She got on the white phone to the operator.
"Yes, this is Carol Evans from Emergency. Could you page Kel
Brackett to report down here stat? We've a major in the works.
Thanks." and she hung up the phone about the same time Dixie
did.

"It's a train wreck. One of those new fangled Amtraks or whatever
they're called. The DOT says that each hospital in the district could
expect to see up to a dozen patients incoming." McCall reported.

Carol nodded. "I've put out the page about it."

"Really? How'd you do that so fast? I just told you what we're gonna get."

Nurse Evans scoffed. "You may be the guru when it comes to
stomaching evil concoctions from the brewing pot and feeling
the ER weather with your digits. But no one is better than me
at reading coworkers. Your poker face firing up gave it all away."

"Hmm, I'll have to work on that." Dixie said without grinning.
"Who did you get?"

"Brackett. He was only going over films, remember?"

"Good choice. His grumbling over the disaster alert will
be the best medicine I can take to get over my brain fog."

"That's why I picked him. Two birds with one stone." Carol 
agreed.

"Perfectionist." Dixie teased with feigned indignant sarcasm.

"I learned from the best." Carol smiled sweetly.

The two nurses flew in two different directions to bustle
the staff into shape for a full blown Condition Orange.

-----------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Dr. Mike Morton was helping a restless, sweaty young African
American woman back down onto the gurney from where she had 
sat up in a moan from malaise caused by her very high temperature.

"Easy maam. Why don't you just ....lie back down again. Just
like that. That's it. I don't want you to hurt yourself." Mike 
soothed. "Now, does your head hurt at all? How's your neck?
Does it feel like it's tight or cramping up on you?"

The stricken woman on the bed made eye contact but
didn't make an indication that she had understood him.

Morton frowned, looking up at the orderly attendant with him.
"Hmm. She's borderline on delirium now. It's ok. I got her, Malcolm.
Why don't you call us a nurse to set up an immediate ice bath?
First thing, that fever spiking's gonna be stopped. We'll do
it after the spinal tap."

The burly blond orderly nodded and moved to the treatment
room phone.

Morton pulled the thermometer out of the woman's mouth 
where he had been holding it alongside a jaw spreader. He
held it up to the light, peering at the tic marks over the mercury.
"It's 104. Tell them to hurry it up some."

Dr. Morton moved the still wrapped spinal  tray closer to
get it set for the staff that was coming to help him with it.
To kill some time, he began to speak to his patient. 
"Now don't you worry. I've got people on the phone lines
trying to find out who you are right this minute. The sooner
we know that, the sooner we'll get our answers."
he sighed, still clutching her restless hand across her
chest to partly monitor her breathing and partly to keep
her flat. 

The woman's eyes never failed to leave his over
the oxygen mask she wore and she moaned again in
unconscious misery. 

"Shh.. It's ok, honey. I'm a doctor and I promise you that I'm
gonna find out what's wrong with you just as fast it's 
humanly possible."

Dixie's head poked in the door. 
"Mike?"

Morton didn't look up. "Coming to help us out?"

"Don't I wish. Trouble's brewing, doctor. Big trouble.
The fire department dispatch's just notified us of a 
train wreck east of here."

"Do they have any casualty numbers?"

Dixie minutely shook her head. "It's too soon to tell."
Then her practiced eye noticed a trembling in Morton's
patient's legs. "Want some diazepam for that seizure?"

"It's mild yet. Her BP's yo yo-ing and I don't want it to take 
a dive."

"How about some quarantine control?"

"Yeah, get that going. This might be meningitis in full swing."

"Oh, boy. You know you two have been seriously exposed."

Morton huffed. "Yeah, we know. And so was half the waiting
room when she stumbled in here from the outer doors. We'll
decontaminate in the next room and slip into a couple of masks
to help out there just as soon as we're through managing her
in here."

"I'll tell the bath and spinal tap people to gown up before entering." 
McCall said, letting the door shut between them as she turned 
on the negative air flow button in the treatment room next to the cabinet.
 
Morton shouted after her. "How about a sign for.."

"The infection warning's already hanging on your door."
came Dixie's rushing voice. "I had a gut feeling."

Rampart General Hospital began shoring up for a large
disaster response. Administrators immediately started   
calling all their available off duty hospital staff to report in for 
emergency triage work. Multiple med evac helicopters 
were summoned to the parking lot's landing pad.

 --------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Joe Early burst out of Treatment Two, peeling off his bloody
suturing gloves and he tossed them into the hallway
biohazard receptacle. "Dixie?" he inquired.

"The base station's quiet yet. Apparently, all this has just
happened. I have FEMA's radio frequency called up on
the scanner and all the senior staff's been properly notified.
We'll have everyone but Dr. Morton."

"What's tying him up?"

"Spinal Meningitis in Treatment Room Five. He didn't spot it 
fast enough to get covered up. Malcolm's been exposed, too."

Dr. Early rubbed his hand and the rings there thoughtfully. 
"That shouldn't be a problem. They're both young and strong. 
The chances of them catching it at their ages and conditions 
are low."

"Still. They're gonna work in masks and gloves when they get
out here. For OUR protection." she teased. "We're the oldsters
in this outfit."

"I can order some interferon boosters for everyone you think's
been exposed."

"Don't bother, there's too little time left. The bell's just about
ready to go off on the train pileup." she said, throwing a hand 
over her shoulder towards the buzz light over the glass paned 
paramedic radio  room. "Let's just hope Jane Doe's germ is a 
weak one. Cross your fingers and coffee up, you're gonna need
it." she said gulping down hers.

----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

"I concur. There's absolutely no sign of solid aspiration. No ash.
No glass dust. Amazing."

Kelly Brackett smiled. "That's Craig Brice for you. He's a h*ll of
a fireman. Almost as good as he is a paramedic. I suspect he
got some SCBA gear from that roof line as soon as his victim's
stokes was pulled free from it. It's just like him to haul his bacon
out of a fire at the last possible moment, unscathed except for
a few minor things. Another paramedic of mine's green with envy
over his almost one hundred percent non injury track record."

"A charmed life." Dr. Michaelson of Radiology interjected, 
peering at the films of Brice's lungs closely.

"So far. And I'd like to think it's gonna stay that way."
Kel admitted, crossing his elbows.  

"It will. I see nothing here that indicates a future risk for 
secondary pneumonia."

"Great news. I'll tell him after he's transferred upstairs."

Michaelson nodded.

Dr. Brackett suddenly heard his name called by the house operator.
##Doctor Brackett. Report to Emergency Stat. Doctor Brackett,
Report to Emergency Stat.  You've a conference with Dr. Orange.##

Kel and Dr. Michaelson both stood from their stools and ignored
the row of Xray films hanging under the purple white light in
front of them in alarm. 

"Now just what kind of disaster is it this time?" Brackett asked sharply 
as his worry suddenly exploded. He headed for the exit across
the darkened viewing room.

"I'm coming with you." said Michaelson, grabbing his white lab coat.

---------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Dixie heard a commotion coming from the outer doors and she 
and Carol and Dr. Early hurried to meet whoever it was as
fast as they could get there.

The emergency ambulance entrance doors parted to reveal....

 -----------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Photo:  Joe, Dixie and Kel frantically at work at the base station.

Photo:   Morton tending a young African American woman.    


Photo:   Dixie reading a chart near another nurse.  

Photo:   A Mayfair Cadillac ambulance backing up to
              the ER doors at Rampart.

Photo:  A helicopter view of a massive train wreck with
             EMS and Fire crews on scene.

******************************************************
From:  "Cory Anda" <andacory@hotmail.com> 
Date:  Thu Sep 9, 2004  10:08 am 
Subject:  The Best Laid Plans of Mice and ....

.......a fire department squad backing up in the space 
reserved only for resupplies pickup.   

Dixie snapped a cord mentally. "Oh, for crying out loud,
don't they know what's happening?!" she groused, turning
on a heel and disappearing back into the hallway.

Carol didn't exactly throw up her hands but she frowned, too,
at the bit of normalcy arriving in the shape of Johnny and Roy.
"No victim?" she asked Dr. Early half heartedly.

"No victim.." Joe replied, smiling.

"I guess I'd better go cool Dixie down. Already, she's wound
up tighter than a top." Nurse Evans admitted.

"You do that. I'll take care of the boys here to bring them
up to date." Joe leaned into the squad. "Hiya boys."

"Hiya doc." Roy said. 

"Wow, that was some welcoming committee. First Dix, then 
Carol, now you, heh. Won't be long, we just came for a couple 
of Ringers that we both forgot to grab that wasn't on our last
run's paperw-" Johnny started to explain. 

"You mean you haven't heard anything yet?" Joe interrupted.

"Haven't heard what?" Roy asked, his face going slack.

"There's a condition orange in effect as of right now.
An amtrak derailed a few minutes ago." Dr. Early told them.

"No kidding. You're serious.." Gage shook his head.

"Very serious. Dixie has all the staff scrambling. I'm surprised
your station hasn't been called out yet to respond to the accident."
Joe said scratching his nose.

Gage immediately got out onto the running board and checked
the antennae on top of the squad's roof. The aerial, was missing.

"D*mn it. I knew we were in kinda tight on that last fire hazard call.
There was enough mesquite on Old Man Foster's property to choke
a horse." Johnny exclaimed. "We must've knocked it off when we
left."

Roy immediately turned on his walkie talkie to hear a hail of
out going tones for  L.A. and Los Angeles County's outlying stations.  
All three of them listened carefully but the tones for 51 didn't sound off.
"Maybe we can learn more by listening to your emergency scanner, doc."
DeSoto said.

"Be my guest. Not much going on yet. It's too soon."
Joe nodded and opened the squad door so Roy could get out.

Quickly, the three of them went inside and soon were gathered around
Dixie's main desk. Dr. Brackett was there watching Dixie pull out
the disaster management book from its storage envelope for him
to read. "Evening, boys." he greeted.

Johnny and Roy both waved half heartedly. Gage got down to
business. "Doc, what have you heard? Our squad radio was
knocked out. But apparently, we haven't been missed yet. Our
station's still at the station." he laughed at his pun.

"Not much." Kel frowned. "You know as much as I do."

"Anything we can do around here to help out?" Roy said as
nurses, doctors, orderlies and patients all in motion, 
milled about because of the soon to come emergency traffic.

"Yeah, help me load up the helicopter with supplies?
You can grab yours while you're doing it." He said noting the
empty box that Roy held under his arm. "I'm dragging Dixie
along with me to the scene. There's absolutely no doubt that
we're gonna be needed, and in a hurry." Brackett
said. "I'm just doing a little anticipating gentlemen." he said
hefting up the disaster protocol manual. "I suggest you do 
the same thing."

"Where's the wreck located at?" Gage said as they moved
to the entrance and the outer pharmacy.

"West side of town, but east of here, still in the suburbs." Kel 
pointed as they bundled up boxes of medical gear onto a 
gurney. Once it was full, the two paramedics and single doctor, 
hurried outside, pushing the fully laden stretcher before them.

Johnny craned his neck into that direction, shading his
eyes from the brilliant late evening sun. "I don't see any 
smoke."

Roy shook his head. "You don't have to see any to
have a really bad situation, Johnny. An Amtrak has no 
cargo to burn."

"Oh yes it has. You're forgetting all the people." Johnny said 
grimly, fiddling with the strap on his walkie talkie where it 
dangled on his wrist.  He was the very picture of frustration
as station after station, all but 51's, was called to respond.

They got near to the landing pad so they ducked
as low as the gurney's mattress to protect their heads from 
the whirling blades and so did a rushing Dixie, now wearing
a heavy field sweater emblazed with her medical staff emblem.

Kel Brackett helped Dixie inside the roaring chopper.
"You boys better get back. We're good to go. Thanks for
the loading help. No doubt we'll be meeting up again." he 
shouted over the wind and rotors of the rescue helicopter.

"You can count on that for sure, doc." Gage promised
with fervor.

Roy and Johnny back stepped until they were well away
from the launching pad, each holding a walkie talkie to
their ear as fire units continued to be deployed to the site
of the crashed train.

A full minute after Brackett's helicopter disappeared,
there was still no word for their engine or squad.

"I don't get it.." Johnny complained. "Did L.A. forget
about us? Maybe we should just head on out there
and be done with it."

"I think we should stick tight. Who knows? We may
be just assigned to cover someone else's service
grid. Not all of us can go." Roy said reasonably.

"Maybe that's true, but I don't have to like it." Johnny
said as they went back into the busy emergency
room that was in full preparation for a massive influx 
of patients.

Joe Early was reading his own copy of the mass casualty
incident manual by the paramedic station when Gage and 
Roy got to the main reception desk. The silver haired doctor 
looked up. "Still no word?"

"No." said Gage crankily. "Roy seems to think we're being
held back in reserve."

"Good thing you were. Your antennae was out. It could have
been very bad if you were called out and hadn't answered."
Joe reasoned.

Johnny refused to be placated and just harrumphed in 
his throat, pushing aside the full coffee mug that Roy offered
to him from the pot. "I'm not thirsty. I'm mad. Thanks, anyway.
But, no thanks."

Joe chuckled. "So, paramedics feel just as much like the
preverbial football with superiors as we doctors do."

Gage wasn't angry enough not to smile at Joe's glib comment. 
"Doc, you mean to tell me that you have a boss to worry about?"

"Yep. The big man upstairs. And I'm talking about the one
smoking the expensive cigars wearing suits by Georgio, 
not the one surrounded by harps and angels." he joked.

"Huh, I didn't know that. I thought that once you become a 
doctor, you become your own boss with nobody to pay
attention to but yourself and your patients." Gage gaped.

"Maybe someday. But as long as my salary is paid by
what the hospital charges for my services and skills, I'm
always going to be at somebody's beck and call."

"You know, that- that's not right. It's not right at all. 
There's something fundamentally wrong with that idea." 
Johnny scoffed. "I mean, you save lives and all.. I mean, 
yeah, Roy and I do, too, but not in the same way. I think you 
should form a physician's union doc, and force a few 
changes or two to gain a little independence."

Joe quickly picked up the white phone. "Want to suggest 
that to the big man upstairs? I can put ya through..." he
said dialing up.

Gage sputtered and grabbed the phone from Joe's hand.
"Funny man. A real comedian."

"I try to be. It keeps me from going absolutely nuts around
here sometimes. Oh, by the way. Did your captain remember
to cook some extra clam chowder for me and the missus?"

"Huh?" Gage said, still digesting the doc's logic. "Whaa? Oh.
yeah. Stuck it in the freezer for ya. You can pick it up in the
morning."

"That's if we're allowed to be 10-8 in the morning." Roy reminded
Johnny. 

Gage looked at his partner without comprehension.

Roy elaborated. "Someone has to let Dr. Early IN to get to
the refrigerator."

"Oh, yeah, right." Johnny sniffed, pulling un-necessarily on his
utility belt. "We'll try to have someone there for ya, doc. But
seeing that everyone's at the train wreck..." his face retwisted
into a seethe at the thought of being excluded from such a major
run. "...we may not be able to accommodate you."

"I can wait. Chowder keeps a week, Hank tells me, if it's
flash frozen."

"His was." Roy nodded.

Carol Evans, who had been busy answering phones and directing
staff to their assigned areas, piped up. "You know, Craig Brice
is still here in Room 512. Maybe you boys can kill some time waiting
for word from your dispatcher by visiting for a few minutes with him. 
You know how annoying getting over a chest full of smoke can be. 
It's compounded ten times over when one is confined to absolute 
bed rest."

Joe's eyebrows rose. "Now that," he said stabbing a finger at
Carol. "...is a fine example of the manipulating I regularly suffer.
And she's not even my boss. I know a thinly veiled dismissal
when I hear one, boys. Feel offended."

Evans face quirked. "That's right. Now you paramedics know
who's the real head of the emergency department." she said 
without batting an eye. "How can I get any work done around
here with that idle chatter of yours distracting me. Oh lord,
I'm starting to sound like Dixie already and I just took over
for her."

Roy and Johnny laughed.

"512 did you say?" Gage asked.

"512." Evans answered, dipping her neatly coiffed brunette head 
elegantly. 

Joe Early slipped into melodramatics. "Oh adieu, my fair maiden,
parting is such sweet sorrow, I should cut my body to pieces to
call you once by your name.."

"Just Nurse will do, Doctor." and she made shooing motions. 
"I'm sure your missus wouldn't want you to call me anything other 
than that." she said dryly.

"How sharper than a serpent's tooth!" Early postured.

Carol hissed at him making cat's claws.

Joe fled, feigning fright, into a treatment room whose
patient needed his attentions.

Carol's claws turned into a friendly double wave as she
watched Gage and DeSoto disappear into the elevator.

-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
Johnny Gage inched up onto his toes, peering out the fifth floor
window blinds, at the end of the hall next to Brice's assigned
patient room.

Roy smacked him. "Would you cut that out? We'll get
there when we get there."

Gage rubbed his sore arm vigorously. "Ow. I was only
trying to get feelers out on what we're heading into."

"Who says we're heading into anywhere?" Roy argued.
"The HT's still quiet on that issue!"

"Yeah? Well YOU'RE not so quiet about it, that's for sure.
And not so quiet vocally either." said Johnny, popping a chocolate 
he found abandoned in a half eaten box on the hallway crash cart. 
"This is a hospital. Show some respect would ya? There's a lot 
of sick people around here."and his angry scowl turned into 
one of amusement when he realized he got Roy's goat yet again.

It was Roy's turn to seethe, feeling royally had. Then he started
laughing. He barely got things under control when Johnny snatched 
up the box of sweets on his way in to Brice's room and shoved 
them behind his back as they entered.

"Hi Craig. How're ya feeling?" Gage asked. "It's not every day ya get 
to receive a little mouth to mouth from your own station captain now 
is it?"

Roy stepped on Johnny's foot, who promptly ignored him.

Craig Brice, decked out in a white gown replete with blue florets,
set down his magazine. "Gage. DeSoto. What a pleasant surprise.
Why aren't you at the railway accident scene yet?"

Johnny's grin fell away into one of disgust. "Now, see?" He pegged
a glare at Roy. "Why do I get the feeling that everybody who's 
anybody knows about that wreck and how incongruent WE are for 
not being there?"

Roy pretended that Johnny wasn't even there to help curb his
high flowing embarrassment. "Hiya Craig. Carol Evans thought 
bringing him up here to see you would cheer him up. Have some 
chocolates." and he yanked the open box away from Johnny's 
concealing hand and offered Brice the lot by sliding it across 
his bedside eating table.

Brice blinked around his nasal cannula. "I should think that by now,
you'd know that John Gage never cheers himself up unless he's 
ready to do so on his own, DeSoto. Thanks for the confections."
and he helped himself to the smallest piece, chewing carefully.

Johnny didn't know whether to be insulted or to agree with his
old nemesis. He opted on stuffing another candy into his other
cheek. "Well, how are ya anyway? Any pulmonary edema?"

"No."

"Any laryngospasms cropping up?"

"No."

"Any arrythmias fluttering in your chest?"

"No. Do you see me wired to an EKG monitor?"

Gage flared. "You mean you don't even have so much as a
sore throat for your troubles?"

"I don't. Thanks for inquiring." 

Gage sputtered indignantly, remembering his own miserable
symptoms whenever he was laid low by smoke exposure.

Roy covered for him. "I guess he means that he's really glad
you're feeling better." DeSoto said mildly.

"I fathomed that angle a minute ago, DeSoto. Thanks. I
am almost back to optimal conditioning. I'll go home this
evening Kelly Brackett says. And I've been cleared to 
return back to work tomorrow morning."

Gage turned apoplexic and he couldn't speak.

Brice rose from his bed and only stopped because he
still had an I.V. line in. "Are you choking?"

Roy shook his head and then did a double take at
his color changing partner. "Are you?!"

Gage nodded, finally grabbing his throat with the
universal crossed hands sign subconsciously.

Both Roy and Brice smacked a fist into Johnny's back,
bending him over the snack table and two mostly chewed
squares of caramel and chocolate flew out of Johnny's
mouth.

Johnny straightened, sucking in huge breaths as he
regained a hard won equilibrium. 

Brice calmly got back into bed, pulled the covers back over
his knees and peeled off his cannula. "Want this?"

Johnny batted it away with a glare and finally coughed.
"Funny man. Never let it be said that Craig Brice doesn't
have a sense of humor. You and Dr. Early should get together
sometime on that." he rasped, leaning a head into his
hands against the tabletop.

"You ok?" Roy smirked, still hanging onto Johnny's belt.

"I'm fine. I was just a little hungry I guess." he said lifting
his head.

"No, you were more like a little jealous I'd say." Roy said.

"Of what?" Johnny said, cleaning up his spit out candy from
the sheets and magazine cover on Brice's lap with a kleenix
from the table top tissue box.

"Of my faster than normal recovery period, Mr. Gage. It's
not often I'm in the hospital like this. The only other time
was when I had the roof fall on top of me after I pushed
your partner out of the way from under a fire weakened 
section at the Gilmore Factory Fire on June 8th, 1975.
It's nothing to be ashamed of.  I, in turn, admire you, too."

John blinked in surprise. "Uh, you do?"
Roy said the same thing in stereo. "Uh, you do?"

"Of course. John Gage's a prime example of what an ex-juvenile
delinquent can become when given the proper chance. 
The paramedic program's been an absolute boon for you.
You're almost a model citizen when it comes to true character."

--------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
"I oughta go back there and KILL him once and for all."
Gage spat.

"Why?" said Roy in amusement. "And undo all that nice work
the docs did for him? That'd be a waste of energy."

"Not in my book." Gage grumbled.

"You should be happy. We've been called to respond to
the train wreck."

"Finally.."

"Well, why aren't you happy now?" Roy asked.

" Because NO paramedic should get to an accident scene a whole
half hour AFTER the nurse and doctor does. It's bad for business."
he said, staring out the window of the speeding squad.

Roy just rolled his eyes.

---------------------------------------------------------------------- 
 
Photo:  Dixie Roy Johnny and Brackett in hallway.

Photo: Roy in a waiting room closeup.

Photo: Johnny looking cheeky at Rampart.

Photo: Brice in a hospital bed wearing a cannula.

Photo:  Johnny Gage in a helmet, seething, in the squad.

Photo: Roy grinning in the lounge.
  
***********************************************************
From :  patti keiper <pattik1@hotmail.com> 
Sent :  Thursday, September 9, 2004 6:49 PM 
Subject :  [EmergencyTheaterLive] Red, Green, Yellow or Black... 
  

Roy pulled up the squad two blocks away from 
the intersection to which they had been assigned.
It was four blocks away from the first aid station
set up near a high school foot ball field that was
large enough to accomodate the medical helicopters.

Engine 51 was already parked at an angle near a
hydrant but her hoses were still in her hose bed.

Roy and Johnny got out, grabbed their gear and
reported in. Johnny spoke into his hand radio.
"Squad 51 on scene at Vajalla and McGinty."

Immediately, Hank Stanley intercepted them on
the frequency. ##Engine 51, Squad 51, we've been
ordered to search all the train cars between Vajalla
and Hwy 9. Use triage protocols and set up your
gear in a safe area. We're working at car forty five.
Cars one through forty four have been cleared and
evacuated. Do you copy?##

Gage frowned. "10-4. Loud and clear." he replied, pressing
the talk button. They started walking fast with absolutely 
everything that they could possibly carry from the squad
towards the train tracks. 

Roy looked at Johnny, ignoring the dangling air bottle mask
swinging around his knees. "Car forty five? Just how big
is this passenger line? I'm not seeing many fire crews
past ours here." he said throwing a head towards
the Ward La France where she was sitting idle. 

They rounded the next corner of the block and stopped
dead in their tracks. "Oh my word,  would you just look
at that?" Gage exclaimed. Ahead of them, they could see
accordianed silver and blue trains cars indicative of Amtrak
knotted eerily like some bizarre kinked snake above the 
railroad tracks. Hundreds of people who had been on the train 
were milling about, trying to leave towards the first aid station
or for the line of police cars that they could see trying to
coordinate rescue activities, paralleling the railroad tracks.

"Could have been worse." Roy commented. "Looks like
most of the cars are still basically near the tracks and
fully intact. Tipped over, but not on fire."

Johnny began to hit the fringes of walking wounded
that police officers were escorting towards the high school
to their right. He shouted to a motorcop in the middle of
a huddle. "Hey!" he said, getting the officer's attention,
by pointing to the green number on his helmet to identify
himself as a paramedic. "You got any victims that need
immediate attention?!" he gasped shifting the heavy weight
of gear in his hands. 

The cop shook his head. "Nah, these folks are minors and
can walk. Here." he said, clipping a bundle of white tags
that had green, yellow and red strips on them onto Gage's
air bottle straps. "A nurse working up ahead asked me to 
give these to you." and then he was gone into the crowd.

"That must have been Dixie." Roy exclaimed, searching 
with his eyes over all the heads of dazed people and shouting 
cops for any sign of her and Brackett. He couldn't locate them.

Johnny looked down at the wires and tags swinging
from his belt. "Triage tags. The train must've cracked
open somewhere along its length."

"It would have only done that if it hit an obstacle before
it derailed."

Johnny spun about, searching for more signs of trouble
past the row of pitch angled passenger cars jutting 
out in every direction from the railroad tracks along
the row of neatly tiled houses in the neighborhood.
"How about that highway to our right? Could the locomotive
engine have hit a car?" Johnny theorized as he stuck his
head above the crowd of frightened, but mostly uninjured
people moving away from the twisted train to try and spot
a reason.

"Possibly. I think that intersection's a ground level crossing.
Come on, I think I see Cap's helmet." Roy puffed as he moved 
the O2 cylinder from his side to his shoulder for easier 
carrying. 

Then they were there.

Gage heard a shout from Lopez to his left. "Over here! We've
got a woman down, bleeding very badly out of her legs, looks
like something heavy crushed them." the Latin American 
fireman said. "Follow me. She's over by the Mayfair, on the 
ground."

Roy and Johnny hurried over and crouched over a twenty 
something year old. A young man with their victim was upset 
but coherent and he held her hand. "She your girlfriend?" Roy 
asked him, reading the red margined triage tag fluttering in 
the wind on her shoulder. 

"Yeah. Her name's Cindy. Ohmyg*d. Is she gonna be all right?"

Johnny made himself smile once he recognized Dixie's work
of double tourniquets tightly bound above both the girl's knees.
"We're here to give her every chance. Have you had first aid 
training of any kind?"

"Some. Uh, a few years ago. I'm a boy scout pack leader."

"Fair enough. My partner's gonna start Cindy on some oxygen.
It'll help her get her breathing under control. That panting's just
from some blood loss which we're gonna build up again by 
starting a couple of I.V.'s Keep tabs on her pulse and breathing
rate, would ya? We're going to be busy down here for a bit."
Gage said, indicating the area of Cindy's badly broken legs.

"Anything I can do.." said the frightened young man.

Marco kneeled on the ground and helped Roy cut away
the woman's shirt sleeve so Roy could get access to
her arm for a blood pressure. Johnny got on the land line.

"Rampart, this is Squad 51. How do you read?"

Joe Early came on the phone almost immediately.
##Go ahead, 51.## 

Johnny skipped preliminary information. "Triage victim, number sixty
three." he read from Dixie's hastily applied tag. "A female approximately 
twenty years of age. She's semi conscious due to crushing injuries to
both legs. Double tourniquets have been applied to her mid thighs. 
Stand by for the vital signs."

Gage buried the phone onto his neck and glanced over to where he
could hear Cap and another paramedic crew working on what
sounded like a steering wheel being bent with a K-12 and chains.
He couldn't yet see the car through the throng of people and
rescuers shifting around the silent train through the growing evening 
fog.

Marco said, "Johnny, that driver's not bad. We're putting him on a long board
just as a precaution. His leaking gas tank made him something of a
priority . I guess a train car clipped him when it jumped off the tracks."

Johnny nodded as he took the note pad from Roy containing what
he had found on Cindy during his secondary survey.

Marco spoke, shifting his head to the right to where the many rescuers 
beyond Rampart's doctor and nurse had not yet reached.
"I've got to go. Dixie's three cars from here, working her way
towards the locomotive with Dr. Brackett. They're on the leading
triage tag team." 

"Go." Roy told him.

"Wait." Johnny contradicted. Lopez skidded to a halt.
"Just how many cars are on this train?" Gage asked. 

"The DOT counted 102 from the air. The middle section's
on fire a half mile from here. Those Amtrak cars impacted
a light industrial propane tank. Most of Los Angeles City's fire
departments are handling that. Our units from the suburbs are on
just triage and extrication detail."

Gage nodded, waving him on. "Radio us if you find another red
tagged victim." he shouted. "We'll be done here in five minutes."
he said pointing to the two ambulance attendants waiting next
to the Mayfair that was shielding the girl victim from the milling 
crowds.

Lopez took off at a run.

"Well there's a tender mercy. We'll be nowhere near the fire."
Johnny said to his partner. Then he began relaying vital signs
to Rampart from what he read off the small pad of paper.

Two large bore I.V.s later and a neat feat of carefully positioned 
splinting kept the woman's circulation going into her feet. Johnny and
Roy had to fight instincts to let city paramedics be the girl's main
caregivers to the hospital.  A yellow jacketted paramedic from
Pasadena said, "We'll take real good care of her. She's got the first
row for a helicopter flight in." And then they were gone in the rig
with her, reds flashing, for the impromptu high school football field
landing area.

Roy and Johnny quickly packed up their gear again and headed
north on the strength of Marco's news about Dixie and Kel Brackett's
whereabouts.

A yellow tagged man with a splinted broken forearm grabbed Roy 
as they went by. "Please, you gotta look for my son. He was in
car number 49. Please. I can't find him...."  

DeSoto set down his gear and supported him. "Easy, mister.
Now where did you come from? You're headed in the wrong
direction. Medical help is that way."

"He slipped away from me.." said Vince Howard, running up to them.
"I got distracted by a couple of red tags. I can tell you more. His son's 
name is Jeffrey Mathers." he said taking the father's shoulders. 
"Come with me, maybe he's at the First Aid Station already. Let's 
go look for him. Stop bothering these two gentlemen."

"Please. Firemen. He's about eight years old, wearing a blue T shirt
and y- yellow pants. I just gotta find him.." mumbled the injured man.

Johnny and Roy watched him get swallowed up by the fog until
it seemed that it was only just the two of them alongside the twisted
bulk of the train. DeSoto broke out a flashlight to locate the search
marks crews ahead of them were leaving on the skin of each car
to show the ones cleared of people. 

"Sun's going down. It's gonna get cold. Man.. I hope we find 
everybody in time." said Gage. "This fog's getting thicker by 
the minute."

Roy found another rectangular shape jutting eerily up
into the indigo sky. "Car 49. " he read on the side door. 
"And there's no search mark yet. Let's check it out."

Roy and Johnny left their gear on the rail road rocks by a lit cherry flare
and together, they pulled open the train car door and went inside.

--------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
Dr. Brackett was a whole train car ahead of Dixie, and he was 
shouting and calling. "Is anybody in here? Shout if you can hear me. 
I'm a doctor from Rampart Emergency!"

Dixie, too, was calling for anyone to hear, but she started to lag
behind the much bigger Kel as she struggled over seats with
her flashlight.

She had just climbed over a tangle of them when a ghostly figure
ahead of her blocked her path. "Bellingham?" she said, stunned,
recognizing the off duty paramedic. She grabbed his arm in
the darkness. "Are you ok?" she asked, seeing blood running
from his mouth and the large bruise on his head. She couldn't
work it through her head that he was actually a passenger
on the luckless train. 

"M-My daughter. S-she was caught under me." said the bloody
T-shirted man. "She.. she was fine a minute ago..."

"Where is she? Easy, Bob. Everything's gonna be ok." Dixie gasped.

"I'm keeping her...warm..but..." he said numbly, in heavy emotional shock.

Dixie McCall looked down to find an infant lying limp in
his arms, her lips, feet and hands already turning blue. Dixie snatched
the tiny baby's body from him and into her arms and pressed a couple of 
fingers against her chilled upper arm. "Kel ! Can you hear me?!  
I got a pulseless infant back here." she shouted out loud. 

There was no reply from the way ahead.  

"Kel! Answer me!"

Nothing but echoes replied in the horrible silence of the Amtrak.

Dixie fell into an upright seat and set her flashlight until it aimed at
the metal ceiling, filling her arms with a bright white light so she
could see clearly what she was doing. Right away, she tipped 
back the baby's head and tried to gently get breaths inside of the 
still, clammy chest. Nothing went in.

Bob began to sob. "I-- I know about that.. I...can't seem to.......move."

"She's obstructed. I'm going to clear it." Dixie said quietly, rapidly
turning the limp infant over and beginning back blows and chest
thrusts. On the third attempt, Dixie's shaky puffs of air finally got in.
"Just sit there and relax, Bob. I'm sure help is on its way."

The Rampart nurse began the baby's CPR while her shocky 
paramedic father simply sobbed, watching them, with tears in his eyes.

---------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
Johnny Gage startled when the third train door parted under their collective
tugs to reveal a conscious victim, blinking up at them from the murk,
under his flashlight.  "Blue and yellow he said?"

"Yeah." Roy replied. "Jeffrey Mathers?"

The boy began to cry from where he lay in the rubble and he
stuck out his arms towards DeSoto, reacting like a frightened boy 
half his age. "Help me...  I can't find Daddy..."

DeSoto's paternal instincts soared and he reached out, gathering
the damp shivering boy into his arms. "It's ok. Your father's fine.
The doctors are taking care of him at a First Aid Station. How
are you doing? Do you hurt anywhere besides that cut on
your arm?"

The boy stayed mute, frozen with fear and he kept his eyes shut
tight and his arms locked in a death's grip around Roy's neck.

Gage ran a flashlight over the boy's head and body. "There's
a lot of blood here, but I don't think much of it is his at all." he said
reaching around and taking the boy's carotid. "Pulse's fast but strong 
here." He pulled out a green tag and wired it to the front of Jeffrey's
T-shirt with quick notes on the boy's injuries and his name.

"Whose is it?" Roy asked cradling Jeffrey's head on his shoulder,
softly calming the boy. "Shhh.. You're all right. We're going to 
someone who can take you to your father right now."

Jeffrey nestled into Roy's arms a little deeper and he sighed,
but his trembling didn't ease.

Gage cast his flashlight around in the fog.  It alighted on a young
shirtless teenager sitting upright in the next car with his head
thrown back. Johnny hurried over, his mask dangling air bottle clanging 
as he crouched down and felt for a pulse at the teenager's pale creamy 
neckline. He shook his head and pulled out a penlight, showing Roy the
fixed and dilated pupils he knew were there. Sighing with disappointment,
he tipped the teen over, looking for the reason why he died. 
He found it when a hole six inches wide became visible in the small of
his back. Blood still dripped from the wound. "Looks like a seat
brace or something impaled him through the lower abdomen. It must've 
drilled right through his lower aorta."

"Come on." Roy said, making sure the young child's head was 
turned away so that he wouldn't see the dead train passenger.
 "Let's get Jeffrey outside. We can wrap him in some sheets from 
the burn kit to deal with this mild shock of his."

 Johnny nodded, and gently returned the teenager's body to
the position he originally found it in before he attached a black edged
triage tag to its shoulder.

----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
Marco Lopez was bounding ahead in the treeline in a short cut back
towards the train when he spotted movement in the brush. A blood spattered
woman in navy walked out from under a pine tree. "Hey! Maam.. Are you
ok?"

She gave no sign that she had even heard him.

Marco ran to her side, gripping her arms, "I'm a fireman. Let's get you
out of here to some help."

The woman began to struggle and flail at him, screaming incoherently
and Lopez was forced to protect himself by restraining her wrists.
"Hey, hey hey. It's all right. You're out of the train and you're safe.
I got you..." he told her. 

Sobbing, the woman sank to the ground and her head drooped in
unrelenting grief. "He's dead... Ohmygod..." she cried. "They're all
dead.." 

"Listen to me. You're ok and that's what's important right now.
I'm Marco and I'm with the Los Angeles County Fire Department. 
Shh, easy hon. What's your name? Can you tell me that? Once you let 
me check to see if you're ok, we'll think about finding your people  
on the train, all right?" he said, keeping a light arm around her 
shoulders. "Come on, can you tell me what it is?"

The woman gave a deep sigh and some of the dazed look left
her eyes. "C--Candace Mallory..I'm from Santa Barbara..." and
she started to cry again actively.

Marco penned down her information onto a green labelled
triage tag for he could see no other injuries past a face
cut and some scratches on the woman's arm. "Candace? My
neighbor's named Candace." he smiled. 

"Really?" she smiled.
Candace felt an itch and reached up to scratch her face
and startled when her hand came away bloody. "Oh, my g*d,
I'm bleeding! OH!" she sobbed, starting to panic again.

Marco grabbed her hand and covered it with some gauze,
wiping it clean. "Candace, you've only got a small cut on your
lip. You're ok, really. See? I'm taking care of it. It'll stop very
soon if you hold this right there. Yeah. Hold that 4X4 
over your lip just like that."

"Ooohhh." Candace sighed, calming down. "What happened
to us? One moment we were laughing and the next, the cars 
were screeching and...lurching.. " her face grimaced into fresh
tears as torturing recollection returned in snatches..." We 
crashed, didn't we? What made it happen?"

"I don't know for sure. But I do know that everyone's getting help
as fast as we can get it there. That's why I'm here." he
reasoned. " And I can get some help going for you, too."

The woman smiled, suddenly seeing Marco as the firefighter he
said he was. "You're from the fire department..?"

"That's right."

Candace suddenly gripped her leg. "Ow.."

"What is it? Your ankle?"

"I-- I think so. Hurts.." 

"Here, let me take a look at it." Marco said, gently feeling the joint.

Candace winced slightly but that was all.

"Not broken. Do you think you can walk on it?  I'd like to get
you to some friends of mine down in that neighborhood below us."

Candace immediately panicked. "No! NO! I-- I can't go back down there!
It's too dangerous!  Crashing! There's so many people .... lying hurt... or 
much worse! Please, don't make me go back down there...." she begged.

"Easy, ok. ok. We'll find a way to go around." said Marco, planning ahead, 
checking out the terrain around them. He could just see Cap clearing from the
automobile wreck from his vantage point. He pulled out his walkie talkie.
"HT 51 to Engine 51." he hailed.

##Go ahead, Lopez.## came Captain Stanley's reassuring voice.

"I found a walker up here on top of the hill. I'm bringing her down.
Green tag."

##10-4. We'll keep an eye out for ya. Watch yourself in the fog. It's
getting pretty thick down here. Engine 51 out.##

Marco shrank down its antennae and started to stuff the HT back into
his jacket pocket.

Candace was looking at it with fascination. "You mean, I'm really going
to get out of here?" she said reaching for it.

Marco let her have it. "Yes."

The shocked woman hung onto the radio tightly as Marco helped
her to stand. She wobbled, but then walked with more assurance
faster and faster as she clung to the chattering radio like a life line.

"Come on, let's go this way.." Lopez told her quietly, placing his
jacket around her shoulders.


----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
Dixie kept on working on the baby. And somehow, she had managed 
to get through to Bob Bellingham that Dr. Brackett was on the train
with them.  Bob's voice rang out louder than Dixie's.

"Dr. Brackett! Come quick. It's my baby daughter!" he yelled in
full emotion. Fear gave him volume that Kel finally heard from where
he was.

Kel Brackett returned back the way he had come. "Bob Bellingham?
Is that you? Where's Dixie?!"

"Over here. Pulseless nonbreather. About twenty weeks old." she
gasped as she worked, her fingers pumping firmly over the baby's
breastbone.

"Keep going. Let's get them both out of here and to a chopper.
You ok to continue her CPR?" Kel asked his nurse as he gave
Bob's eyes a quick check where he sat numbly on the floor next
to Dixie's passenger seat.

"I'm fine. Just move.." Dixie told him. "Just heard Johnny and
Roy in the area. I think they're right outside!"

Brackett tried to peer out the train windows but fog made it
impossible to see through them.  Brackett pulled out
a cherry flare, lit it and tossed it outside. Then he took the whistle
from around his neck and blew on it hard, three times in several
triple series. "That should bring em cracking with their full 
medical gear. Just keep going on her. Her pupils are reacting."

Kel helped Dixie navigate through the darkened car with words
while he guided Bob by the shoulders through the same route.

Then they were outside under the night sky.

Leaping at his communications pack, Kel Brackett grabbed
his walkie talkie the Base Commander from the Fire Department
had given him. "Car 51. Baby down. Full arrest. Get a crew in
here for a chopper run, fast!"

Then he bent to put a nasal cannula on Dixie so that she
could give the baby more oxygen with each breath she
delivered by mouth. "Let me know when you get tired. I'm
going to go give Bob a once over, looks like he's going to
black out on us."

"I will." she promised.

----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
Cap met Marco and Candace in a backyard. "I got her Marco.
Go north! I just got a call from Stoker and Roy at Car number 50.
They've a woman pinned under some debris and she's gonna need
full spinal immobilization. They've got their hands full keeping her
airway clear. Go help them out."

"Right, Cap." and he dashed off after taking his radio back
from Candace.

Cap gently guided the slightly wounded woman towards the 
street where the rescue operations were ongoing.

"Wait.. where's he going?! I need him to help me get out of here!" 
she said with rising panic. "Please!" she struggled with
Hank, not knowing who he was.

"It's ok. He's one of my men. I'm his captain. I'm taking over
for him. Shh. It's ok. I got you. See? There are ambulances
over there. There's no problem. " he promised. "Just calm 
yourself down a little. You're ok. You're going to get out of 
here right now.."

The panic slowly died out of her eyes but hot tears returned.
"I am?"

"Yes, right now. Chet!" Cap said to a running form he
recognized in the darkness.

"Cap?"

"I've a walking wounded. Take her over to the triage line, pal.
Go easy with her. She's still a little confused but I don't think she's 
hurt seriously. Marco has her green tagged."
 

"I've got her." said Kelly. He aimed his flashlight on her triage tag.
"Candace Mallory.. Hiya Candace.. My name's Chet. Right this
way and I promise to lead you to some warm blankets and
a soft bed. Would you like that?" he asked.

Like a child, the emotionally traumatized woman nodded
yes and let herself be guided.

"After you get her over there head north. Stoker and Roy
have a tricky one needing extrication." Cap ordered.

Chet waved his understanding as he took Candace's uninjured
arm.

--------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
 
Photo: Train wreck residential - An Amtrak.

Photo:  Johnny Gage and Cap treating many in a  triage setup.

Photo: Triage tags.

Photo: Roy and Johnny treating victims near the train by a Mayfair.

Photo:  Bob Bellingham in a T- shirt with a pulseless infant in his arms.

Photo: A victim in the train, a boy, looking dazed and bloodied.

Photo:  Marco sitting in the woods with a walking wounded.

Photo: Cap giving an injured walker over to Chet in heavy fog.

Photo:  Stoker, Roy and Chet working on a badly injured lady under debris.

 *********************************************************************************
From:  Jeff Seltun <finiterider@yahoo.com> 
Date:  Tue Sep 14, 2004  7:27 pm 
Subject:  Fast Track..


Johnny Gage ran from out of the fog heavily
laden with medical gear. "Hey! Whoever blew
that distress, give a yell! I'm coming!"

"Johnny?!" Kel Brackett shouted. "It's Brackett! Get 
over here! Dixie's got an infant CPR."

Gage ran, shifting his medical gear until the drug
box was in his right hand. He spotted Dixie,
sweating and bent over a very young baby in her lap.
He slammed down onto his knees and clattered
the drug kit's lid open. "You ok there?" he asked her as
she worked. "How's your O2 supply?" he said
seeing the glint of a cannula tubing around Dixie's
face.

"It's fine.. Just hurry.." Dixie puffed.  "I'm still
not getting a pulse from her."

Kel looked up from where he was cutting away Bellingham's 
shirt to look for injuries. Bob was mostly out, and moaning
and there was a fresh pool of vomit near his head. "Glad
you're one who heard us, Johnny. Where's Roy?"

"On an entrapment. Two cars from here."
Gage did a double take when he identified the man on the ground
as being Craig Brice's fire paramedic partner. "Bob? I thought
he was on vacation..." Johnny said, digging through the
drug box for what he knew Brackett would order for the baby.

Dixie gasped, trying to smile. "So did we.." She shifted 
her position until the baby lay across Johnny's splint box, using 
its hard surface to help her efforts. "Come, on honey.. Breathe." she 
encouraged the limp infant under her compressions.  "Daddy's 
really missing you." her voice begged. "And so am I."

Kel gave Gage the info he needed. "Bellingham's got nothing serious 
yet. Concussion maybe. But first things first. Johnny, skip the baby's 
airway, she's handling fine without one. We need to bump her heart
into course V fib or better and we need to do that right now. Go right to 
her .01 mg epinephrine I.V. 1/10,000 into a 10ml Ringer's bolus line, without 
the bag. Scalp stick would be best.  Follow it up with a two milliequivalent per 
kilogram of .5 bicarb in a push. Then take over for Dixie and get that baby 
onto that chopper ASAP! " he hollered over the roar of the helicopter 
landing in the street near their location. "Joe will take her first thing once 
you fly in. I just got done talking with him. He's got an endotrach set up and 
rewarming measures already waiting with a team. He'll deal with any 
hypoglycemia once she's intubated."

"Right, doc." Gage said, biting the plastic off a lactated fluid syringe.
He angled his head around Dixie's and established the l.V. line during
one of her ventilation pauses. "Epi's going in..." he shouted to Kel, grabbing 
up the baby's arm to feel for a brachial beat. His other hand taped 
up the Ringer's catheter port against the baby's temple."Ok, hold it a 
second, Dix." he nodded and then he plunged the medication's needle into 
the injection bulb, depressing the syringe's plunger. "I'm checking her!" 
he updated Brackett.

The nurse and paramedic held their breaths as they studied the
infant for any reaction. The baby pinked and twitched. But
her chest didn't rise at all. "Got her back, doc. But still no breathing."
Johnny told Kel as Dixie once again took that over. "Bicarb's next."

"Good enough first step for me. Get that done and I'll be
more than happy. Great going, you two. That's the chance we've been 
hoping for." Dr. Brackett smiled as he waved over some firemen who 
had run in top speed after hearing the distress whistle. "Over here!" 
he told the arriving crew trying to find them with their flashlights. 
"Adult male. Full C spine and a backboard. And all the spare O2 you 
got!"

The Pasadena men hustled over, speaking quickly into their radios.

Johnny stuck two EKG monitor pads over the baby's chest and abdomen
and wired the infant for a quick peek and punched on the unit with a 
smack, breathing fast. Then he smiled. "Rate's just over 140, doc. 
Terrrrrific.." he celebrated.

"Sustainable." Kel agreed. "Any distension we need to worry about?"

Gage swept a couple of fingers over the baby's stomach. "Not
much. Dixie's vents are still working ok."

"What's she at?" he asked about Dixie's rescue breathing rate.

"24 or so a minute." Johnny replied.

"Get a BP for me and then get her out of here." Kel ordered, nodding
his satisfaction.

Johnny rushed, scrambling, and soon, he got one. "62 Systolic."

"That's flight adequate. Stable enough. All right. Dix, let him take over." 
Dr. Brackett said, getting the firemen's 02 to Bellingham through a 
non rebreather as others fitted the now unconscious man with
a cervical collar and got him ready for a log roll. "Gage, run..." 
he ordered. "Leave without us. I'll call a ground ambulance for him."

The exhausted RN pulled off her nasal cannula as Johnny continued
where she left off with the baby's mouth to mouth and nose ventilations,
and she fitted it around his face, tucking the O2 bottle under his
arm. She pulled the EKG patches off the baby girl's sweaty skin, tossing
the wired leads aside and then she nodded. "Johnny, you're set. I'll help you 
carry your gear." she panted, shouting over the roar of the rescue 
chopper, blowing leaves and debris over them, as it sped up rotors
after Dr. Brackett waved a signal for its pilot to get ready for a fast 
priority lift off.

Johnny wrapped the baby into a blanket and ran, maintaining
careful ventilations. Dixie followed him with the drug box and Gage's
HT. "Dr. Brackett's now on your channel." she told him. "Use him
if she worsens again. I'll keep an ear out, too."  she promised,
transferring the baby back to him after he leaped high enough
to board the hovering helicopter.

The last sight she had of Bob Bellingham's tiny daughter and Johnny
was when their two silhouettes merged into one as the focused 
paramedic gave the baby the breaths she so badly needed as 
gently as he could without harming further, her already resuscitation 
bruised body.

Then they were gone in a swirl of dirt into the night sky.

--------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Photo: Gage giving mouth to mouth to a baby.

Photo: A rescue chopper buzzing the squad.

Photo: Brackett in an intense closeup.

Photo: Dixie holding something in a yellow shock sheet.

******************************************************************************
From:  Sam Iam <lafddispatcher@y...> 
Date:  Wed Sep 15, 2004  9:43 am 
Subject:  The Flip of a Coin..

 
Roy DeSoto glanced over his shoulder to where
Jeffrey Mathers lay on a burn sheet. "How are ya doing
over there?" he asked the boy in the blue shirt and yellow 
pants who was just a lighter shadow in the middle of a darker
one on the ground about thirty feet away from the tangle
of metal that held Roy's current top priority.

"I- I'm ok... Where's dad?" the eight year old blinked up
into the darkness. "Why aren't we going to him right now?"
he said, still afraid of moving on his own.

"Because we're a little short handed." Roy replied, looking down.
Stoker and Chet were handling his trapped victim's airway 
suctioning while he held the badly injured woman's head still. 
"And we've a lady here who needs our help just as soon as we 
can get it to her. Just keep wrapped up like you are and you'll warm 
up soon, I promise. Someone IS coming for you." hissed the fire 
paramedic when his knotting forearms started cramping up.

"ok.." said Jeffrey Mathers.

The three from Station 51 were worried.

Chet grunted. "Ughh.. I can't get it lifted any higher. Something's
really wrong down here. I think this whole section's attached to
the strut pinning her under here. We're gonna need a portapower or a
K-12 to make any progress at all.  "

Roy nodded in agreement as another fireman fitted the woman with
a cervical collar to free up DeSoto's hands. "This train car is buried too 
deep. Nothing short of heavy equipment is going to do much of anything."

Mike Stoker glanced up at his crewmates with a frustrated look.
"That won't work either. The ground's too soft around us. Something else's
gonna have to be done."

Roy dragged over a battered suitcase with a free hand and used that
to hold the woman's head in alignment with her body. She lay
partially under two heavy crossbeams from the chassis of the train 
car on her left side and her face was pressed almost completely 
against the train car's skin.

Stoker dropped the suction wand onto the woman's chest and
quickly replaced the oxygen mask over her nose and swollen mouth.
"I got her clear. She's breathing fast and shallow but well enough."

"Is her jaw fractured?" DeSoto asked, as another trail of blood
started dripping down to the dirt. 

"No, I think she just bit her tongue. All of her teeth are there."
Mike replied.

Chet Kelly got on his HT from where he was jammed up between
the beams and the semi conscious woman while he supported her 
torso with his knees to ease her labored breathing. "HT 51 to Engine 51.
Cap!" he hailed loudly over the sound of hammering and hand tossed debris
as the rescue workers around them tried to dig down to the trapped
woman's level from the other side.

##Go ahead, 51.## said Hank.

"We're gonna need all the tools ASAP. A bobcat is definitely out.
Stoker says we're over a sand pile."

##10-4, Marco and I will run a set of em to ya ourselves. Two minutes!"

Chet coughed and set the radio down quickly next to his head on
a metal sheet as he tried once more to lift some mass off the
woman's stomach. He failed.  

The woman's breath gushed out of her mouth at the return of weight 
and she moaned when she couldn't inhale any more. Her eyes rolled
up into her head.

"It's slipping!" Chet gasped. 

Immediately, two diggers wormed their way under the creaking car
to Chet's location and joined him in a desperate attempt to stop
the tipping, barely counter balanced, car. The edge of the train 
chassis lifted up six inches.

Roy helped the woman revive by helping her breathe with
an ambu bag until her eyes started regaining focus once more.
"It's ok now. We stopped it. Just relax. We're gonna get you outta
here." he said insistently into her ear. 

Soon, the woman pushed the face mask away and struggled to
blink clarity back into her vision."S--Something's  squeezing.... 
*gasp* ...me." she gurgled. "ahhhHH!"

"I know. I know.. We're trying to get down below your waist to
see what it is and deal with it." Roy said. "And about your pain,
I've a doctor on the way who'll take care of that just as soon 
as he gets here. What's your name?"

The woman didn't answer, working hard to breathe. She spit 
continuous blood out of her mouth. Roy helped her once again
on the bag from where she hung face sideways.

He motioned for another fireman to take over for him while
he got another blood pressure reading on her free arm. It
was ominous and matched her rising tachycardia.

He climbed out of the hole and grabbed two I.V. bags of
Ringer's and started to prep them. He shouted down to
Chet. "Kelly, see if you can find any I.D. on her. If we have
a name we'll have a chance to learn what her blood type is
off some medical records to pave the way for a possible 
transfusion."

"Will do.." and the curly haired fireman's feet disappeared
back into a hole at the diggers' feet. He came out with
a battered tan wallet, passing it off hand to hand until
it got into Roy's grip. "That was in her front jeans pocket." came
Kelly's muffled voice.

Roy flipped it open and startled.
 
"Mathers?"  his eyes involuntarily shifted back into the direction
of the scared little boy resting out of sight nearby. He bent close
to the woman's ear. "Julie.. can you tell me if you have a little
boy or not?"

"I.... yes. It's Jeffrey." she said muzzily during a lucid moment. "The 
three of us just wanted...*cough* to take a little trip..." she groaned.

Mathers screamed when something on top of her under the train car, 
shifted. Immediately the men around her, froze, listening to the creaking 
mass around them.  Bloody tears leaked out her eyes and Roy saw 
tiny blood vessels start to burst in them.

::Traumatic crush injury..:: DeSoto identified.
"Julie," said Roy urgently. "Listen to me. We've got your
son out. He's ok. And so's his father. We...Jeffrey's right here at
the top of the hill. Do you hear me? Jeffrey's ok.. And Mr. Mathers
only has a broken arm. He's waiting for us at the First Aid Station."

"J---ff?  And Jared?" she gasped hoarsely. She began to fade again
and so did her brief smile. Mrs. Mather's eyes began to close as
breathing suddenly became more difficult.

"No, no.. no. " ordered Roy. "Julie? Open your eyes. Can you hear me?"
he said, rubbing some knuckles into her breast bone. "You've got
to stay awake as long as you can. We need your help."

Julie jerked and blinked. "W-where's Jeffrey?" she panted, then a jolt
of pain made her cry out.

"Thirty feet away from us. He's safe." Roy replied, cupping her face 
into his hands. "Just keep focusing on me and not the train, all right?"
replacing the lighter oxygen mask tightly over her mouth. "We'll have
it off of ya as soon as we can."

"I--I want to see him." she bubbled, gripping Roy's hand tightly
with her own bloody one. DeSoto didn't know what was best.
::Should we spare the boy? By not letting him see his mother
like this? Or should we bring him down here? In order to give 
her a good reason to live?::


Right then, Dr. Brackett and Dixie McCall arrived. "Roy, what do you got?!"

Roy's head shot up. "Traumatic chest or abdomen." he answered
instantly. "B.P.'s 104. Respirations 26 and shallow with active oral 
bleeding. She's positioned left lateral, recumbent. Something's 
pressing her down badly. There's petechiae all over. Scleral, too." 

"Two large bore Ringer's Lactate I.V.s, wide open. But only if her
chest's clear."

"Got them right here. Her lung sounds are still dry. That blood's
from a tongue bite."

Brackett's face twitched. "Ok, get em in and running."

DeSoto had to peel off Julie's powerful grip on his hand, which had
left bruises behind.

"How's her consciousness level?" Dixie asked from
another direction above him.

"Awake, groggy. Drifting when she gets tired of trying
to breathe. We've been helping her. Also, she's feeling a fair 
amount of pain here." Roy said, swabbing down places on
Julie's arms for the I.V.s. 

"I'm coming down there with some MS." Kel said, aiming 
a flashlight at Julie's face. "Keep that ambu handy. How soon
until she's extricated?"

Roy looked to Chet.

"Don't know Dr. Brackett. She's in here real tight. A whole
crew was radioed a few min-"

Cap's shout interrupted him.

"They're right there." Kelly amended, continuing to dig with his
gloves at Roy's feet, dog paddling dirt away from a hole as fast 
as he could so a circular saw could fit inside of it easily.

Kel leaped into the space Chet had made and soon
injected the pain medication. "What's her name?" he asked Roy.

"Mrs. Julie Mathers." said four people.

Brackett glanced around with a nod and he crouched down next
to Roy. A firemen handed him a helmet to wear and he put it on.

"Mrs. Mathers. I'm Doctor Brackett. I just gave you something to
help with the pain. Tell me, can you feel your legs or anything below
your waist?"

Julie nodded. "I feel....everything." she grunted with effort. 
"Where's Jeffrey? Please.. I want to see my son right n--" and she 
stiffened as another shift in the car jolted through her.  Mather's eyes 
bugged out when an inexorable pressure landed on her stomach. 
She started to purple and her consciousness suddenly struggled, 
desperately.

Brackett yelled. "Get it off her now!" he shouted, gripping her chin
around the cervical collar as two sets of hands began using the ambu 
bag to try to get oxygen back into Julie's lungs. Animation left
Mather's features and she started to convulse as blood flow
began to cease going into the lower half of her body.

"Anything getting in doc?" Roy asked, snatching up an endotracheal
tube.

"No tube! The problem's because her lungs are being compressed.
Get it off her guys ASAP. We've no ventilations!" Brackett yelled.

Captain Stanley and Marco worked the fastest K-12 cutting arcs they
had ever made, one from each side, until they met in a semi circle
at the top. Many hands punched the severed piece in and then lifted it
out as soon as it cooled enough to touch.

Julie's chest rose suddenly when the wall section's heaviness left it.  
She was quickly hyperventilated until her color returned to normal 
and until she began to resist it once more, moaning in feeble complaint.

A floodlamp from above then illuminated the newly freed gap 
leading inside the train.

Dixie gasped.

Brackett and Roy and all the rescuers paused in shock.

A four inch by four inch pole had been driven through Julie's 
stomach just below the level of her diaphragm on her right side.

Kelly's voice shouted bright and scared. "There's another victim 
in here! He's been impaled on this thing, too! Through his lower 
abdomen." and he grabbed the nearest body part to him, a 
man's bare foot, that was jutting out from under a chunk of metal, 
to test for circulation.

The new victim's voice began to scream. "I'm here. I'm alive! Agh..
Get me out. Please. Get me out of here! I've been s-stabbed."

-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
Kel Brackett's mind was racing. He had done everything he could
to arrange things. Julie Mathers merited an emergency surgical attempt
to save her life lying right where she was. But so did the second 
man lying beneath her.

The Rampart physician took the stethoscope cups out of his ears
slowly. ::What should I do?::

Scott Kincaid was dozing fitfully under his two I.V.s and he
was still mumbling, begging for escape.

The firemen had asked Kel repeatedly if he wanted them to cut the pole
between the two with their saws in order to get them out of the train
but he refused to let them.

"The vibrations and movement from any cutting will most likely kill
both of them! You know as well as I do that the pole is acting as
a tourniquet internally. No, we're gonna have to operate on them
as soon as we get it freed using something with less impact, an
arc welder perhaps. Then we can slide them both off it when it 
collapses." Brackett outlined to the fire and rescue crews.

All the men looked at each other uncomfortably.

Roy grabbed Kel's arm. "There's only one of you, doc. They will both
bleed massively once they're freed. And there's no way you can operate
on both of them at the same time...not fast enough.." he urged, the 
situation was already very clear in his mind in a surge and Brackett 
saw that his senior paramedic's eyes were painfully haunted.

"I know that. This is triage, Roy..." he said, filling the noisy hole
with a sudden calm horror. "Pick one."

"Don't ask me to make that kind of choice, Doctor Brackett." DeSoto 
whispered hollowly, stepping away from the bloodied doctor, angling 
his dusty head. "I can't. " he gasped. "Not ever."

"Then let me make it for you. You are relieved of the responsibility."
Kel said firmly, hardening.

"You can't play god with their lives..." Dixie said to Kel forcefully,  
her face paling. "No one should."

"What other choice do I have?" Kel said a little loudly, crouching
between his two now stabilized, gravely injured patients. He swept
both his hands out into a frustrated shrug.


From the ground below them, a weak feminine voice sighed.
"You can let US decide who. It's our lives, doctor. Not yours. "

Julie Mathers and Scott Kincaid were lying quietly and both their
sets of eyes were silently watching them all, glazed from pain medications.

Between them, their hands were clasped calmly together for comfort 
as if Julie had never uttered such a horrible statement.

"But first, let me see my son." the mother requested.

----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Photo:  Cap with a porta power.

Photo:  Marco crouched with a crowbar.

Photo:  Victim getting a C collar.

Photo:  Man's foot sticking out of debris.

Photo:  Roy feeling a carotid on a woman.

Photo:  Brackett with bad news.

**************************************************************************
From:  "Cassidy Meyers" <killashandraRey@hotmail.com> 
Date:  Thu Sep 16, 2004  10:08 am  
Subject:  Miracle Baby..

Dr. Early and Dr. Morton met Johnny Gage at the emergency
desk at a run. They both were in blue surgical gowns, but
Mike already wore his blue mask while Joe's was still dangling 
around his neck. Johnny puzzled at that odd observation for a 
total of two seconds. Then Dr. Early spoke, breaking his curiosity.

"Treatment Four, we're already set up, Johnny." Joe told
the busy paramedic. "Has she started breathing on her
own yet?"

Gage spoke between the puffs of air that he was giving 
the baby and he let himself be guided to the right place. 
"About one every four, doc. She's really cold. But her 
pulse's hanging in there." he said, pulling off the cannula he
wore for the infant. An orderly took the oxygen cylinder
out from under his arm just as it fizzled out the last psi.

The doors to the treatment room opened on a surgical 
setup.

"This isn't sterile, Johnny. Set her down." said Joe, patting
the exam bed while he gloved up and put on his mask.

Mike Morton got busy with a warming probe and
he started calibrating a respirator to the baby girl's 
size and age. "She's young.."

Gage nodded. " Dix said she's about twenty weeks old.
This is paramedic Bob Bellingham's little girl. He was on 
the train because he was off duty on vacation. My guess is 
that he was on his way into the city for a pediatric doctor's 
visit."

"H*ll of a way to get one." said Morton through
his surgical mask while he flicked the baby's feet 
to test for her awareness level.

Gage carefully set the limp baby girl down on the
treatment bed, supporting her head and spine.

Joe Early immediately listened to her chest with
a stethoscope while Morton set a neonate positive
pressure O2 mask over her face. "I've a rate about 150. " 
he said, looking at Johnny for a reason why it was so high.

"I looked her over really good. Her sternum's
swollen but intact." Johnny said. "That tach's not trauma related. 
Brackett ordered some serious epinephrine. That might be
why she's racing."

"How much?" Morton asked.

".01 mg  of 1/10,000. " Gage replied, as he stuck baby sized
EKG pads and leads onto the distressed infant lying
between them under the exam light.

"Ok, thanks Johnny, we got it from here. Nice work
bringing her back."

"No problem, doc. Bob'll be flying in to you on the next trip. 
He's been in and out of consciousness. I just thought I'd
warn you. He might be a handful trying to find out where
his daughter went to."

Mike nodded. "I'll tell Carol once we've stabilized her
condition."

"Is it bad out there?" Joe asked Johnny.

"Yes. We're still doing Initial Triage, with Dixie
and Brackett at the head of the main team. We're 
at Car 52 out of 102."

Morton whistled through his mask. "That's a big
passenger train. Get set for massive casualties
once you hit the sleeper cars."

"Sleeper cars?" Gage said, watching the two doctors
examine the baby for injuries beyond the obvious ones.

"Yeah. Amtrak commuters pay a premium for a two
by five foot cubby bunk recessed into a wall."
Mike gave a shudder. "I never get a ticket
for one myself. Reminds me too much of a coffin."

"Maybe those provided some protection to
the riders.." Johnny thought. "Being that they
weren't in a lot of space to get thrown around
in too much during the derailment."

Morton shook his head in disagreement, making
a noise of negation. "Most likely that snugness backfired.
Doesn't take much to crush in the roof of a train car."

Johnny frowned at that. Gage sighed, mentally letting 
go of his tiny patient. "I'd better get back. Chopper's waiting.
You're sure she's gonna be all right?" he said pointing his
talkie antennae at the bed as he backed up reluctantly,
not wanting to leave his patient.

Joe grinned. "I guarantee it. She's checking out over 90%"

"Good. That's real good, docs. Thanks." Johnny said,
looking very paternal.

"Say, Johnny.." said Dr. Early.

"Yeah?"

"When you get back, check in with Dr. Brackett, ASAP.
He mentioned something about emergency field surgery
at Car number 50."

"That'll be Roy's case. He was working with an entrapment.
I'm on it." and then Johnny turned with an effort and was gone.

"Devoted, isn't he?" Morton remarked.

"That's what makes him one of the best." Joe commented.

The fluting tones off the EKG monitor rose another
ten beats a minute and Joe ordered the baby sedated
to rest her metabolism and heart. He got down to
business and started to intubate the tiny baby.

Mike blinked around his surgical cap and mask.
"Will she need the crich?"

"No, a 2.5  worked just fine. Let's get her hooked
up to the bird." he ordered. "Set it to fifty percent in
case she's got some pulmonary bruising from the 
CPR."

Joe smiled and stroked the sleeping infant's face with
a finger. "What a lucky little girl. Six fragile pounds against
400 tons of crashing locomotive and all she's got to worry
about is a little hypothermia.. Absolutely amazing.."

---------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Photo:  Joe in scrubs talking to Gage in a treatment room.

Photo:  A baby on positive pressure vents under a stethoscope.

Photo:  A baby getting intubated in a surgical setting.

Photo:  Crowds of people around a crashed Amtrak.

Photo:  A crashed train car can spray labelled as "empty".

*************************************************************************
From:  "Champagne Scott" <chameleonkate@hotmail.com> 
Date:  Thu Sep 16, 2004  2:02 pm 
Subject:  How You Leave the World Behind...


Dixie lowered her head so the sudden tears erupting in
her eyes, wouldn't be seen.  She waited to see how Kel
reacted to his patients getting involved in their own life
saving or death decision.

Dr. Brackett immediately addressed Julie's concern.
"I have no intention of keeping you separated from your
son, Mrs. Mathers. In fact, I'll send my paramedic right now
to go fetch him." and he nodded up at Roy to leave the hole
and get the boy.  "We were just simplifying things until we
learned the physical conditions of both you and Mr. Kincaid."

"Simplifying.. Yes, " Scott coughed into his oxygen mask.
"That's what we're going to be doing, isn't it?"

Brackett remained silent, as he took first Scott's blood pressure,
then Julie's to mark the new readings on their triage tags.

Julie started weeping and Dixie went immediately to her
side to hold her hand. "Shh,.. we'll figure this out. I-It doesn't
have to be this way.." she whispered. "Let Dr. Brackett think a
moment."   Mrs. Mathers' weeping created spasms along the 
pole spearing her and she grasped at it reflexively in a choked
silent scream. Dixie helped hold it still, along with Marco.

"Give the morphine time to work." Kel said. "Another five minutes."

Scott was shocky and bitter. "Is that how long we have? Another five
minutes?" he gasped, helping his attending firemen hold Julie's
pole that was impaling him, too, steady, while others bound his
wound to control his bleeding. "Forgive me doctor, for a little
gallows humor on my part. It's just that these circumstances are
more....*choke* than bizarre. I'm a lawyer and so this strikes me
as just a bit......funny. I didn't expect to go this way when I got 
up this morning."

Julie almost started laughing through her grief and fear
because of shock and the morphine. But then she filled
with uncontrollable sobbing when Scott's joke silenced.

Mr. Kincaid caught her grief and magnified it.
Scott kept tight hold of Julie's hand the whole time he spoke to
his rescuers. "We're perfect strangers," he said of himself
and Mrs. Mathers. "And yet I feel like I can't ever let go of her."

"Mr. Kincaid.." Kel began. "I'm so sorry. But we have to hurry.
The hemorrhaging you both are experiencing will soon reach
a critical point. Surgery will have to begin immediately."

"Scott. We can't let them go through....*gasp* what we're going through.
It's..not right for us to make them choose........who lives......and who
dies.." Mathers groaned making eye contact with the man.

Kincaid's face twisted in sudden remorse and sadness.
Then he mumbled. "Can you all leave us alone for a moment?"

Reluctantly, the firemen, nurse and doctor retreated out of the hole.

When they were gone, Scott drew a bloody coin out of his pocket 
and he opened up Julie's fingers one by one tenderly before he set it 
onto her trembling palm. "This is the only thing I can think of for us to 
do. I guess I can live or die by the outcome. Money always talks anyway. 
*cough* Heads or tails?"

"Heads." Julie said woozily. 

"Ok, I've got tails. Ready?" and Scott hefted their joined hands up for a 
toss of the fateful quarter into the air...

"Ready.." she replied.

*Pingggggggg......*

The flying piece of bloodstained silver glinted in the light.

-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
Roy arrived back with a bundled Jeffrey Mathers following along
behind and he knelt by the boy and told him that his mother
was under the train. "Don't be afraid, Jeffrey. Your mother's
been given some medicine and she isn't feeling her injuries.
She's... she wants to see you."

"Is she going to get out of the train?"

"We're still working on it." DeSoto answered truthfully.

"Yes, sir.." said the frightened boy.  He took Chet Kelly's hand long
enough to climb down under the lantern lights and into the hole.

At the sound of her son's approach, Scott and Julie both covered
where the pole had gored them with a free blanket so the child
would not see it. And then they both let go of their desperate 
stranger bonding hand clasp.

Julie quickly dried her face and held out her arms to her son. "Jeffrey?"

Jeffrey rushed into them and into a deep hug. "Mom. I was so
scared, but they took really good care of me. Dad's ok.  A policeman
is trying to find him right now so he can come see you, too, but they
said it might take a long time to find him."

Julie started crying anew at the mention of her husband.
"That's ok." she said smothering him full of kisses and she smoothed
his hair down around the dried blood and dirt that had crusted there.
"And soon, you'll get to the hospital where you can get cleaned up.
Won't that be nice?" she said, hiding a grimace of pain from the pole
getting bumped by Jeffrey's back.

Jeffrey looked up from his mother's embrace. "Who's that?" he
asked pointing to Mr. Kincaid lying nearby.

"That's Scott, another train passenger. He works in the city as
a lawyer, just like what you want to be when you grow up."

"Hi Scott. "

"Hi Jeffrey.." said Mr. Kincaid. "Are you ok?"

"Yes." replied the dirty, bloody boy. Then his fingers found his mouth, 
"Are you and mom ok?"

Julie and Scott suddenly met eyes and rejoined hands and they
both couldn't stop the tears from flowing down their faces. 

"Jeffrey, honey. I have always told you the truth about things
whenever we talk right?" Julie began.

"Yes." the boy said, touching the oxygen mask around his
mother's face.

Scott blinked and a fit of coughing interrupted mother and son.

Then Mrs. Mathers spoke. "Well I'm going to tell you something
now,...that is going to be very very hard for you to understand or
even to think about. But,... I have to say it now while I still can."

Jeffrey started to cry, instinctively sensing the worst. 
"Are you hurt very badly, mom?"

"Yes, Jeffrey, I am. And so's Mr. Kincaid. And ...and..the doctor 
here can help only one person get better because we're so
far away from the hospital."

"...no..." murmured Jeffrey, clinging to Julie's neck. "Shut
up, Mommy. Don't say that. I don't want you to."

"And Mr. Kincaid and I have decided.... who ..stays behind."

Next to them, Scott's head began to sink lower and lower
as unconsciousness began to set in.. and he
whispered over and over again. "I'm sorry, Julie.. I'm
sorry............Julie...."

Jeffrey's mouth gaped open in wordless grief when he heard
Scott's faint admission and he began to wail and cry desperately. 
"NO.. make them save YYyoou, mom.. Please...Make them save--.."
and he began to hold tight to Julie's shoulders, tangling his fingers
into her damp hair.

Julie felt bad jolts of pain but she managed to speak.
"Shhh, Jeffrey. You have to go, so the doctors can start  
to work on Mr. Kincaid.  I...just wanted to say goodbye.
And to tell you how deeply I love you ..and Daddy." she weeped.

"Noo, MOm..... no..!" Jeffrey wheezed, trying to bury his
mother's words under the oxygen mask with his cheek and hands.

At his cries the rescue personnel returned. And Johnny Gage
was among them. No one had to ask what the outcome of the 
private decision had been.

Quietly, crews swirled around Scott Kincaid and Dr. Brackett
barked orders for more I.V.'s and a new one of whole blood
of Scott's blood type.

Julie said to Roy as he approached, "You take really good
care of him...." she demanded, hot tears burning her cheeks.
"Jeffrey.. I  love you..." she whispered into her raging son's ear
and then he was torn away from her grasp by the firemen.

Julie lay back down in shock as a numbing darkness began
to nibble at the corners of her awareness and she watched 
Jeffrey's struggling form under the paramedic's arm as if
it were a silent slow motion movie.

The doctors were ready to drape Scott's abdomen when 
Dixie noticed that Scott had Julie's hand once more in an 
unbreakable grip.

"Hold it. Hold it.." she snapped and McCall leaned close to Scott's 
ear. "What is it, Scott?"

"Help her instead. I........have no family...." and then he fell unconscious.

Dixie's face fell under a flood of tears with high emotion and she shouted. 
"Dr. Brackett! Did you--?"

"I heard." he said bruskly, already transferring positions to crouch over
Julie Mathers while he threw on a surgical gown, mask and sterile gloves.
"Everybody. We're gonna cut her free without waiting for the arc welder. 
Don't worry about spinal immobilization. This is life saving measures first. 
Get set for heavy bleeding and have hemostats standing by. I am almost 
one hundred percent certain that only one lobe of her liver is involved. 
There's no time to lose! " he snapped. 

Then he paused briefly and looked at Chet after studying Scott Kincaid's 
slack face with an unreadable expression. "Fireman Kelly, please stay with Mr. 
Kincaid after we move him out of the way." he ordered gently. "Have him brought
out to a paramedic team. There's always a remote chance that somebody else,
apart from us, can still save him."

Julie Mathers didn't hear any of the last two minutes. Her eyes had closed
and she drifted away into a deep coma under Dixie's hands.

--------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
Roy and Johnny laid Jeffrey Mathers down onto the ground.

DeSoto felt for his pulse. "He's fainted." the emotionally overcome
paramedic said hoarsely.

"Cover him up." said Gage, equally effected. "Dr. Brackett's going
to need me in there. Joe ordered me to help him."

"Go.  I'll stay until the boy's father arrives.." DeSoto said protectively
cradling Jeffrey's head while he monitored the boy's shallow breathing.

::A nightmare. I can't believe this is happening.:: Roy thought.

But then the radio next to him crackled.  ##HT 51 to Squad 51##

"Squad 51." Roy acknowledged. It was Johnny and he said four
simple words. 

##They went with her.##

Roy dropped his head into a grimy hand. "10-4." And he started
breathing faster. His chest hurt in sympathetic pain, as the great
emotional burden that he had been an unwilling witness to, suddenly lifted
away at his partner's terse statement. The radio fell bonelessly from
his hand.

A few minutes later he began to gently stroke Jeffrey Mathers' forehead
to wake him gently, as his father would have done had he been there.

Roy hastened the boy's recovery with a soft lullaby that only they could hear.

-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Photo:  Firemen over a bloody boy on a ground stretcher.

Photo:  Woman being given oxygen by a rescue worker.

Photo:  A man with a flail chest and petechiae flecking on his skin.

Photo:  Brackett and Johnny Gage gowning up into surgical clothes.

Photo:  Dixie, Roy and Johnny listening to an HT, looking left.

*******************************************************************************
From:  Katherine Bird <kathbird01@y...> 
Date:  Mon Sep 20, 2004  10:23 pm 
Subject:  Salvage


Hank Stanley gripped Chet Kelly's shoulder when
he saw the stokes carrying Scott Kincaid being lifted
from underneath the train. He noticed how unusually drawn
the fireman's face was as he verbally stepped up the
pace of the silent extrication team.

51's captain was about to ask him about it when Roy
DeSoto, ambulance loading a young boy, gave his head 
a miniscule shake. "That man's downgrading into a black tag, Cap."
the paramedic said, pointing to the bundle of triage tags swinging 
from his jacket's halligan tool for clarity. "Brackett's asked Chet 
to stay on a one to one with him...until there's an outcome, one
way or the other."

"You mean those paramedics working on Chet's victim won't be 
able to save him?" Captain Stanley asked.

"Probably not.  He has a penetrating abdominal hemorrhage 
that only rapid surgery can rectify."

"But isn't Dr. Brackett working down there with you guys?"
Hank puzzled.

Roy looked down as he closed the ambulance doors containing
Jeffrey Mathers and his father.  "He's operating on a woman
who has the same thing. This is her husband and son right here." 
he replied softly, smacking the back doors of the Mayfair to let
the driver know that he could leave for Rampart. "That man told
our team to rescue her instead of him. It was.... incredibly brave,
what he did."

Hank didn't know what to say and he watched Chet kneel down
beside Scott Kincaid's head when the man began to stir as
the high flow IVs started performing their function. "How long?"
Cap asked, feeling sympathy for Chet and his difficult task.

"Any time now." Roy DeSoto answered. Then he grabbed up his gear 
and joined Dixie, who was just as pale and emotionally glazed as 
Chet, for moving on to the next train car for triage categorizing.

Hank caught Chet's eye and held up his radio and tapped it with
a finger in supporting emphasis before he returned to the Command
Post to get word on the next extrication site assignment.

-----------------------------------------------------------------------------------
Scott looked up and saw a fireman crouched over him.
"So you're the lucky guy, eh?" he coughed.

"Sir, just try to relax.." Chet said, taking off his helmet.

Kincaid started to laugh weakily, in acceptance of his situation.
"It's really not so bad, you know."

"What isn't?" Kelly asked.

"Dying." whispered Scott, trying to focus his eyes.

A paramedic from Ninety Nine's working over Scott's stomach
immediately spoke up. He did not yet know how bad Scott's
injury really was. He made a sound of negation. "Wrong
answer, man." he warned his victim. "Nobody speaks the D
word when my partner and I are on the job. It's a real downer."
he firmly aimed at Scott.

"Would you tell him how it is?" Kincaid tossed his head at Chet.
"Better to burst their bubble now then later, kid." 

Kelly licked dry lips and interjected a reply when the Asian paramedic 
asked his partner about mechanism of injury findings. "Guys,
Mr. Kincaid was freed from a four inch diameter pole that was
driven completely through his body. This injury has a large exit wound 
which is hidden from the packing Brackett tried to use to staunch the 
bleeding. You can't see it because of the stokes sheeting. Kel tagged
that black color for a reason. It's far too late to do anything."

The paramedic didn't even acknowledge Kelly's input and he mumbled
to his partner. "Everyone's an expert." and then he tuned Kelly out as
they took vital signs readings on Scott and opened up a biophone channel
to their hospital.

Mr. Kincaid lifted a hand to the glove Chet had placed on his shoulder 
and he gripped it. "Promise me you'll get Julie to her son and husband."

"Sir.. " 

"Promise me, fireman."

"I will, Mr. Kincaid."

"Tell her that it was worth going. Ladies are ....always first into the life boat." he grimaced 
sharply. Then his eyes widened and the shallow breaths under the O2 mask quickened. 
"My G*d, It's beautiful over there." he said looking at a point beyond his feet at
the train. "Do you see all those people? I wonder who they are..."

Chet looked up and saw only the damp fog and cherry flares lying on the ground
in front of the Amtrak car. "Where?" He saw no one. When he looked
down, the animation had faded out of Scott's eyes.

"V-Fib!" shouted one of the paramedics, studying Scott's monitor.

"I got the paddles.." answered the other.

Kelly felt a smack against his stomach. It was an ambu bag.

The blond paramedic said, "Do I have to show you how to use this?" he
snarled.

Chet reluctantly took Scott's face into his hands and began bagging
the arrested lawyer.  Aggressive CPR soon followed with multiple shocks, 
including an IC epinephrine order, but the look of peace never left Scott's 
bloody face. It was that expression that Chet concentrated on until he was 
shoved aside when it came time for the ambulance doors to be closed by 
attendants.

The Cadillac hearse ambulance bearing Kincaid's body lurched onto
the roadway and filled the night with its obnoxious lights and siren.
It retreated around the fire trucks into the distance.

Chet watched it go for a long time before he rubbed the tears out of his
eyes. Then he peeled off his work gloves one by one methodically and
left them abandoned on the bumper of a fire truck.

The smoky fog swallowed Kelly up as he turned to go look for Marco, 
Stoker and Captain Stanley.

----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
It was two days later at a rehabilitation check point. Station 51 had been
on duty a full forty eight hours with only brief periods granted for rest and 
recharging in a nearby tent next to a chow trailer. All the passengers on
the Amtrak had been located and processed. Dr. Brackett and Dixie
McCall had gone back to Rampart as soon as all the train cars had
been cleared.

Johnny Gage rubbed his dirty face and nudged a dozing Roy with a foot
where he was slumped uncomfortably on some boxes. "Want to go back 
to the First Aid Station and make a phone call?"

"To ask about Julie Mathers ?" DeSoto wondered, fatigue lining his face.

"Yeah. 
Day before yesterday, it looked like she was being resuscitated 
when they got her onto that chopper."

"That was because of the anesthesia, Johnny. Not because she crashed."  
Roy mumbled, reaching for a wrinkled pear from a food box. "She's
doing fine."

Johnny frowned in irritation. "And you know that for a fact huh..." he
said with mild exhausted sarcasm.

"I do. I saw the EKG monitor when they passed by. I saw nothing
atypical in her rhythm. She was just being breath supported."

Johnny shot to his feet. "Yeah, well. That call will lift a whole lotta
weight from my shoulders, and yours. Let's go."

"Johnny now hold on. Y-You don't even know to which hospital she
was flown."

"I can guess." Gage answered after a short pause. "Didn't most
of the victims from that section of the train go to Bethseda?"

"The non critical ones did, yes. And most of the bodies we're
recovering now are going there, too. But I heard all the priority cases 
went to other places. They rerouted randomly on to the next available 
trauma department when any hospital reached its capacity. First Aid 
won't have that information attached to any victim names. It's too soon." 
DeSoto reasoned.

Johnny sat down heavily and set his head against the wall, closing
his eyes. "I hate this aspect of my job. Not knowing how people turn
out."

"It's the price we pay for being first responders I guess." Roy said,
getting up. "Come on, we better resupply the squad and go on
stand by for the salvage crews in case there are any injuries."

"I'm so tired, I can barely register how many fingers I'm
holding up." he groaned, not moving.

"We'll grab some more coffee once we get there."

Johnny slowly followed Roy out to the squad.

---------------------------------------------------------------------------------
Captain Stanley was positioned by the two Amtrak
locomotive engines when his walkie talkie beeped with
an emergency call.

##Engine 51, L.A. ##

"L.A., this is Engine 51."

##Engine 51. Recovery crew spotters report an accident dust
cloud near your vicinity. Possible vehicular. At the intersection
of Court Crossing and Hwy 38. ##

Hank scratched his chin, waving over Chet, Stoker and Marco,
giving them the sign that they were moving out on an active engine
call. "Any ideas on how many people are involved?"

##Negative, 51. You will be first on scene. Time out : 11:17.##

"10-4, Engine 51. KMG 365."

And they loaded up and moved out full lights and sirens.

----------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Photo:   Amtrak double engines. 
 
Photo:   Cadillac ambulance on the road.
 
Photo: Fire gloves on a bumper.
 
Photo:  A victim getting ambu bag cpr.
 
Photo: Roy and Johnny near a Mayfair 
  
Photo: Chet with Dr. Brackett.  

******************************************************************
From:  Sam Iam <lafddispatcher@y...> 
Date:  Wed Sep 29, 2004  10:59 am 
Subject:  Seat of the Pants

Craig Brice sat in the nurses' lounge with Dr. Morton,
puzzling over an observation that seemed like only he
was noticing. Brice sipped his plain hot black coffee.
He watched as staff members by the droves came and went
from the room calmly despite the disparity leaping out
at them. 

Finally, Brice just had to ask. "Dr. Morton..." 

"Hmm.." said the young interned resident without looking
up from the top patient chart he was reading from a 
stack of a dozen.

"May I ask a personal question of you?"

Mike's eyes shot up in surprise.

Craig immediately amended. "Stop me if I over step
any boundaries."

Mike grunted, giving the on duty paramedic his whole
attention.

"Why are you wearing a surgical mask?" asked Craig.

"Oh, this.." Morton said, feeling the blue paper covering
subconsciously. "I've grown so accustomed to wearing one 
these last few days that I had forgotten it was still on."
he sighed, reaching for a beverage mug that naturally,
wasn't there. "I was exposed to an unknown strain of 
meningitis from a patient with no I.D. The train crash 
emergency slowed up my being able to get a hold of her lab 
results before she was shipped out to another hospital. 
This is locally imposed isolation by Brackett's order 
until I get the information."

Craig frowned. "You mean you can still work, even though
you've been exposed to her illness?"

"Sure, viral meningitis is very hard to catch, unless you're
a care giver examining someone like I was for her. I'm just waiting 
to hear back whether or not Jane Doe's bug is Neisseria 
meningitidis or Haemophilus influenza Type B. The first is highly 
contagious through the air, the second, isn't, and other strains
are usually unremarkable."

Brice nodded his head, taking a bite of the pecan pie chunk 
he held poised on a fork prong. "Neisseria can kill in less
than a day, I've read."

Morton shrugged. "Dr. Brackett's given me some covering 
antibiotic. A cephalosporin called cefonicid. If it's viral,
I'm not worried. I'm not geriatric or pediatric aged."

Craig carefully considered. "Cefonicid. Dosage, 500 milligrams 
to 2 grams every twenty-four hours IM or IV."

"That's right." Morton replied, unsurprised at Brice's encyclopedic
memory. "And, I've been instructed to stay away from Johnny Gage."

"Oh?"

"He's had his spleen removed. If I'm a carrier, he'll be susceptible
almost one hundred percent to any meningitis germ if he gets into close 
contact with it."

"I didn't know that." Brice said. "Thank you for informing me of that 
fact."

"Any time."

Then it was Morton's turn to ask Craig about Bob Bellingham
and his baby daughter's conditions.

"They're both stable. Bellingham suffered only a moderate concussion.
His little girl was just hypothermic and hypoglycemic. Dr. Early said
she turned around vitals wise almost immediately after rewarming measures."
 
"That's a relief.. Usually train wreck neonates fair poorly, even when
they're not injured physically." Morton replied.

Right then the white phone rang on the wall over the coffee machine.

Craig got up and answered it, being closest. "Nurse's Lounge,
L.A. County Firefighter Paramedic Craig Brice." He angled
his head glancing up at Morton. "Doctor Morton, it's for you."

Morton took the receiver handed to him as the other man returned
to his seat and snack. He listened for a moment, and soon hung up.

Then Mike peeled off his isolation mask and balled it up into
his lab coat pocket.

Brice smiled. "So, it wasn't Neisseria or Viral meningitis."

"Nope, hers was Streptococcus pneumoniae, the bacterial form
that's the least deadliest. The Bethseda lab boys have just told 
me that my prescribed antibacterial med bailed me out of the spreading 
risk category yesterday afternoon."

Sure enough, two new nurses filing into the lounge noticed Morton's
liberation and they both said, "Congratulations, doctor. How's
Jane Doe?"

"Alive, she lost some hearing but she's gonna make it.  The 
PD took her finger prints this morning. They said they'll have an 
answer about who she is by nightfall."

"That's wonderful." said Carol.

Brice looked up at the assistant head nurse. "Ms. Evans. Is
Miss McCall around?"

"Yes, she's back at her desk. You still need your supplies from
pharmacy.." she guessed, squinting at him in a calculating look.

"I do." Craig nodded.

"Not anymore, Mr. Brice. I anticipated a bit and they're all set for you. 
I went around the supply nurse downstairs. Geez, she's got all the winning 
personality of a snail. I don't know how you boys deal with her at all. "

Morton chortled over his coffee cup. "It's only ingrained training
and a re-enforced sense of etiquette that holds us at bay, Carol.
Trust me."

"Well, I certainly don't trust her. Craig, your squad supplies are 
all in an ambu box on Dixie's desk, including that IC epinephrine 
you used on your last run. Now you better eat that last bite and then 
scoot before.."

**Beep. Beep. Beep.. Squad Eight. Stand by for response.**
came L.A.'s rich radio voice over Craig's handy talkie.

 "Thank you, Nurse Evans." Craig said. "And you, too, Dr. Morton.
Doctor, we should get together soon so you can tell me more about
the clinical aspects of spinal meningitis. I'd like to be prepared
further for any future field encounters with it." He rose and ran 
from the room to grab his squad's supplies.

-----------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Craig tossed the box to Belliveau, his temporary partner in
the squad's driver's seat, as their call came through.

Brice got into the truck, buckled up, and strapped on his helmet.

**Squad Eight. Unknown vehicular accident. At the intersection
of Court Crossing and Hwy 38. At the intersection of Court 
Crossing and Hwy 38. Time out 11:19. Engine 51 is responding
to your incident. Their reported ETA is three minutes. **

"L.A., Squad Eight, 10-4. KMG-356."

Brice and Belliveau spun tires out of Rampart's ambulance
bay driveway and onto the freeway.

---------------------------------------------------------------------------

Photo: Morton and Brice talking in the Nurse's Lounge.

Photo:  A grumpy supply nurse.

Photo:  Brice putting on his helmet in a rescue squad.

*****************************************************************
From :  Cassidy Meyers <killashandrarey@hotmail.com> 
Sent :  Wednesday, September 29, 2004 10:44 PM 
Subject :  Intersect 

Mike Stoker hit his airhorn to startle the mass
of bystanders away from their response scene as
he brought Engine 51 down to a hissing crawl about
thirty feet away from the rising steam they could see
from the accident site.  The crowd parted with shouts
and waves of urgency. Others, fearing incrimination,
ran.

Captain Stanley jolted when he recognized the shade of
red glinting under the bright sunlight.  He shouted immediately
out his window even as Chet Kelly and Marco Lopez beat
him out of the Ward.  "Get an inch and a half on that smoking engine 
right now! No wait, it's not that bad. Let's check it out first." 

Squad 51 sat in the middle of the intersection, its windshield
smashed and spidered with its cherry red hood V folded up from 
a front end collision.  A motorcycle lay a short distance away
from the rescue truck, with a casualty, whom Mike Stoker 
immediately crouched down beside to check for lifesigns.

Cap got on his walkie talkie. "L.A. we have a fire department 
vehicle involved in a motorcycle versus rescue squad. As yet, there 
are no signs of fuel leaking. Respond two ambulances to our location."

##10-4, 51. Ambulance ETA is nine minutes. Time out 11:23.##

Squad Eight came back with an immediate follow up. ## Engine
51, we are four minutes away. Just crossing Williams. Heading 
onto the Hwy 38 on-ramp.##

"Engine 51, 10-4." Captain Stanley replied. His voice had cracked,
but it went unheeded by anyone.

Hank pelted over to the squad's driver's window, pulling on his
work gloves, shouting as he leaned in. "Johnny?! Roy?"

No one was inside the truck. 

Captain Stanley whirled around, yelling at the crowd of neighborhood 
people on the curb. "Did anybody see the two paramedics who were 
driving this squad?!"

No one stepped up to reply.

Marco yelled again to the others, "They're firemen, dressed like us!.. 
Where did they go?" Seeing the nationality majority of the onlookers 
surrounding the fire engine and the accident site, he switched to spanish,
barely containing his fear and anger.

"Chet, see if you can find where either of them went. There's blood 
all over the cab." he said as the Irish fireman ran up to him
with O2 for the victim on the ground. "Stoker.. Is that man alive?" 
Cap demanded.
  
Mike sadly shook his head from where he was crouched
over the man's face. "The biker's dead. Broken neck.
I'll go call the cops in. Looks like he was looting, Cap. Must've
been hit trying to leave on a fast getaway from the train."

Kelly hit an idea. "Cap. Maybe they still have their radios if 
they got their jackets on. " 

"Worth a shot..." Cap said, waving him to it.

Chet lifted his HT and started a hail.. "Engine 51 to HT 51, 
do you copy?"  

Marco gathered near his coworkers, shaking his head
about his lack of success with learning anything new from
the bystanders.

Kelly hailed yet again. Only fresh static met his ears.

Then Captain Stanley noticed something. A cluster
of heads bending over together in a group on the opposite
curb under the shadow of the intersection's tall trees.

He started running.  He found a bloodied Gage bending
over a collapsed older woman, trying to talk to her, over
his own severe grogginess.

Hank announced his find to the world over the HT frequency
and he heard footsteps running and saw that Marco was 
coming fast to his aid.

Cap crouched beside Johnny and grabbed his shoulders.
"Johnny? Hey.. It's Captain Stanley..." Gage didn't seem
to understand him and fresh blood ran down the side
of his face from his hair. Cap took off Johnny's helmet
and took his face into his hands. "Hey.. pal. Can you 
hear me?"

Johnny mumbled, not able to focus his eyes. "I...gotta... 
check her out.. She...that was her kid on the bi...  I think 
she's..  shhhe's got......some crushing chest p--"

Hank shouted. "Stoker!  Grab the resuscitation 
gear from the squad. We've a female victim here.
Possible coronary.."

"..Ugh....gotta get..." Gage groaned, shaking uncontrollably.

"Easy. Don't move your head around. Just stay
sitting like you are. I got a hold of ya. Gage, listen to me.  
Where's Roy? Don't worry about the woman. Stoker and Marco 
are here and they're taking over her care. Eight's on
the way.  They'll be here in two minutes. You just relax."

Shuddering, Johnny tried to pull Hank's arms down away
from him, and he was looking at the woman in muzzy confusion. 
"Her pulse's off.. Irreg...u... Let me over there!" he said
weakly angry. He was trembling.

Cap sat down on the grass next to Gage, never looking away 
from his eyes nor did he let go of the support he was giving his 
wounded paramedic's head and neck. 

Hank pulled his captain's HT close to his lips. "Kelly, any sign 
of DeSoto yet? Johnny's conscious but out of it."

##Still looking. Found a blood trail behind a house
over here. I'll let you know. The cops are here. I've
told them what's up and they're helping me look around
now!##

Marco scrambled over to Hank and gave him a flowing
oxygen mask from their supply for Johnny. "Cap,
I'm needed over there. The lady speaks only Spanish
and Stoker's busy hooking up the EKG monitor on her.
I've got to get the defibrillator set up in case she goes bad."
 
"This'll do for now. I'll just have to wait on a collar for him. 
He's cooperating with me." Hank said holding the clear plastic 
mask up to Gage's nose and mouth where he sat rigid against
Cap's supporting hand with his eyes closed. "Go.." he
ordered.

Cap lifted his eyes to the annoying crowd that was blocking his 
view of their distant surroundings. ::Chet. Hurry. I don't like this 
one bit.:: 
------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Photo:    Engine arriving, men pointing up.

Photo:   Squad 51 with a crushed front end.

Photo:   A motorcycle flattened in the grass with an ambulance
              in the distance. 

Photo:   A crashed motorcycle fatality on his back.

Photo:   Cap helping a wounded Johnny away from a scene.

Photo:   Chet Kelly yelling in urgency in hillside brush.

*************************************************************************** 
 From :  patti keiper <pattik1@hotmail.com> 
 Sent :  Thursday, September 30, 2004 3:28 AM 
 Subject :  [EmergencyTheaterLive] When in Rome... 


::It feels like a riot brewing.:: Hank thought, eyeing the
restless crowds around them. 

Vince Howard came running. He had his pistol out
and it was aimed up into the air in visual warning. He was 
the only policeman moving in the open areas. 

Vaguely, Cap saw him run to the fire engine, and open one
of her side compartments for an asbestos tarp. The fire captain 
saw him use this to cover both the dead hispanic teenager and 
the pounds of jewelry which lay strewn around his body.

Hank saw another police officer take a position behind
a squad car to cover Vince as he made his way across the
street at a dead run, to Captain Stanley side. He had a 
weapon out, too. One with a spotting scope.

Mike Stoker looked up from the woman he was taking
a respiration on. "What's happening?" he asked the
street officer when he got there, his eyes getting bigger.

Vince Howard flanked them, his gun once again drawn
and displaying at the subtle angry crowd around them.
"Put your back to mine, and keep a close watch on the
people around us. I've backup coming. They'll be here in 
moments. For now, Schaffer's got us covered with an assault
rifle."

Hank shifted position until he had done what the policeman 
had asked. "Vince? What's going on?"

"How bad are they? Give me that, then let me relay the
information to my sergeant. Then I'll tell you. For now, don't 
make any sudden moves. " the freckled African American 
street cop ordered. "For the moment, none of us are going
to be allowed to leave."

"Johnny's got a possible head injury. This woman's the biker's
mother and there's a good chance she's having a serious heart 
attack. Where's Roy DeSoto? He's gone missing, Vince."
Hank asked. He bit his lip while the police officer contacted
his boss.

Howard met Cap's eyes reluctantly. "This crowd thinks Johnny 
and Roy hit the San Pedro gang's leader on purpose. We're in the 
heart of their territory.  We think the rest of the gang dragged
Johnny and Roy out of the squad when they saw it happen to
get even. This woman tried to stop the gang from lynching them,
but then she went down. Another bystander, a recovery worker, 
called us out here when they saw the gang attacking your paramedics."

Hank glared up at the crowd around them angrily, but Vince regained
Cap's attention urgently. "Don't provoke them. Here's how it is.
A neighborhood elder, like this lady, holds a lot of sway over the gang. 
They listen to her. That's probably the only reason why you
fire boys are still here in one piece. They want you to help her."

Cap eyed up the pipe wielding young Hispanic men with a new light. 
One of them set his length of chain down when Cap met his eyes.

"Is Roy all right? Have you seen him?" Hank asked Howard
urgently. "He may not be the only fire fighter in jeopardy. I just sent 
one of my men over there to try and find DeSoto a few minutes ago."

"One of my deputy's has your man Kelly taking cover behind a 
squad car. We're holding Squad 8 back as a bargaining chip in 
order to be given Roy DeSoto in exchange.." Vince said.

"What?!" Hank bellowed. "You know where he is?!"

Johnny moaned in surprise at the shout and started struggling
anew in his half conscious state against Cap's shoulder. Hank
immediately shushed Gage quiet again and told him to
remain still. A part of the injured paramedic understood Stanley,
and soon, he obeyed the snap of authority in his ear.
"Yeah, never m- move any...trauma.." he whispered. 

Hank looked once again to Vince. "What can we do to
help you and the other officers bail us out of here?"

"Just keep your cool. We'll definitely get out of this whole nightmare 
situation without any more injuries, I promise you.The gang's used to our 
style of ..official negotiating." he said with a smileless good humor. 
"It'll just take a little time to play the game to their liking to fit their 
current mood." Howard said evenly.

"We may not have the time to spare, Vince. She needs cardiac 
medications and a paramedic. Right now, " Marco protested. "This 
EKG's not normal." he said, tipping the Tetronix up so the police 
officer could see its restless uneven track.

"Do the best you can until my superiors finish negotiating.
Keep her breathing or we'll find ourselves in the middle of a 
shoot out with Roy DeSoto being the hostage in danger."

"Is he injured badly?" Cap said.

"I don't know. We spotted him on someone's front porch
six houses away from here being watched by some gang
members. I'm afraid he's on his back and he hasn't moved yet.
Our line of sight's horrible so we can't tell if he's still breathing
or not."

Cap grabbed Vince's arm. "Is Roy still in his turnout?"

"What?"

"Vince, is he wearing a tan jacket like this one?" he said,
tapping himself on the chest.

"Yeah, I think a detective gave that in a description for him."

"Then he's got a radio like mine. And most likely, it's
still on. Can I try to talk to him?"

"Hang on.." Vince said and he contacted his senior onlooker.
"Go ahead. Roy's arms aren't tied from what we can see."

"Stoker. Open a line to Rampart. Get a doctor up to speed.
I'm going to kill two birds with one stone. I wanna get Roy's
health status and if he's able, I want to use him to determine
how bad SHE is." Hank said, pointing to the sweaty, grimacing
dark haired lady lying on the ground. "Marco, you interpret anything
said for the woman's benefit. Got that?"

The fire engineer and hoseman nodded.

"This is the last time I'm ever gonna be caught in the middle of 
an unsafe scene. Smashed vehicles are fine; easy to figure out
for safety's sake. Man, I didn't expect any nearby PEOPLE to 
become my potential powder keg." Stanley grumbled. 

Vince rubbed his sweaty forehead and he glanced at
51's captain in sympathy. "It happens. How often do you
fire boys find yourselves in the city?"

"Not often enough, I guess. We never saw this coming."
Stoker admitted, setting up the squad's biophone.

On the ground, the woman groaned suddenly in fierce
pain, and her skin turned a darker shade of gray around
her mouth.

Marco gripped her hand and he tightened the O2 mask
around her face. "Esto vá  a aydarle a respirar. żLe falta aire?"

"ˇSí!" she moaned. "AhhhHH."

Marco smiled at her in convincing confidence.
"Respire profundo para dentro y afuera." Then
he looked up and his smile fell away the moment his
face was turned toward Cap.

"What's the problem?" Stanley asked Lopez.

"She's getting short of breath. I told her the oxygen will
help her even more if she breathed in and out a little 
deeper." Marco replied. "We have to do something
for her. Now."

Vince offered advice. "Make it sound like it's fire fighting
business or they might not let DeSoto answer you."
Howard snapped his fingers. "Better yet. Mention your new 
victim. It just may allow Roy some conversational freedom if
they realize we have an Elder's treatment ongoing."

Cap got on the HT. "Ok, here goes.... Engine 51 to Squad 51.  
I require an immediate response on HT. We've a woman
down at our original location. An Hispanic female, aged 
approximately fifty. Possible heart attack." and he bit his
lip as he lifted his thumb away from the talk button.

They all poised waiting for a reply over the open line.
The silence was only broken by occasional taunts from
the onlookers and moans from the elder lady.

Then... *Spap* ## Engine 51,...I read you, ...*cough* Loud 
and clear. I'm....10-2. Situation ..ok..## Roy's voice
was thick sounding as if from a swollen lip but no one
minded at all.

The firemens' expressions were ones of great relief and
they had to fight themselves from moving joyfully. Hank 
motioned for them to tone it down. Vince upped their ante 
by putting his own gun away and clearing his hands to the 
watchers near Roy's porch.

Cap started relaying information to DeSoto over
the radio. "Two victims. Victim One, Code I, non urgent." 
he emphasized, letting a hint about Johnny worm into
the transmission craftily. "Victim Two. Conscious, collapsed 
with chest pain. Cyanosis about the mouth and fingernails. 
Difficulty breathing. On 15 liters of O2. Vitals are : " and he 
slowly took a notepad from Stoker in plain crowd sight to 
read the finding. "Pulse 130, weak and irregular, respirations 
are 22 and shallow, B/P is 158/106." 

Captain Stanley could almost see Roy absorb the patient
information like a sponge. Heavy breathing on the line showed
that Roy had some pain he was currently dealing with, but
his voice's tone was lucid, unlike Johnny's disjointed comments.

##Victim Two. Find out .....what kind of pain she's feeling. This
isn't necessarily a cardiac case. Could be a pulmonary embolus, too.
Ask her when the pain started and whether or not it travels away
from where it is now. Find out its severity. Then ask about any taken 
medications, get a medical history if you can, and ..and ..and, ask 
about any allergies. My status, I was 10-7 for about 10 minutes.##

"10-7?" Vince asked.

Cap made a gesture, "That means out of service. I'm taking it to
mean the period of time of how long Roy thinks he was passed out
after he was beaten up.." he began once more into the radio. 
"Vitals on Victim Two.."

##ˇNo otro hombre! Ella solo!## came a furious reply over Roy's radio. 
(No other man! Her only!)

Marco hissed. "Cap. Stop! Talk only about the woman.
Someone over there's figured out what we're doing with 
all the ten codes."

Hank preceded more cautiously. "Comprendo. I understand."
he radio-ed back. "Squad 51. Please stand by."

Roy cleverly kept the talk button down so the others could
hear the police negotiating in the background at his location.

Marco immediately turned to the woman. "żLe duele más cuándo
respira profundo?"   (Is your pain worse with a deep breath intake?)

"No, es mismo." she gasped.  
(No, it's the same.)

"żHa tenido alguna vez un ataque al corazón?" Lopez asked gently.           
(Have you had a heart attack before?)

"Sí, en la primavera." she admitted.  
(Yes, in the springtime.)

"żCuándo empezó el dolór?" he asked about her pain.  
(When did this pain begin?)

"A las once en la manańa."
(At eleven this morning)

"żQué tipo de dolor tiene?" he questioned.
(What does this pain feel like?)

"ˇMi pecho es apretandó! Y presión!" 
(My chest's squeezing. And pressure.) 

"żSe mueve para algún lado?"
(Does it go anywhere else?)

"Alrededór mí izquierda brazo."
(Around my left arm)

"żHa tenido nauseas?"
(Do you have any nausea?)

"ˇSí. Tiene mucho!"
(Yes. A lot)

"żToma medicinas y tiene alergias a alguna medicina?"
(Do you take any medications and are you allergic to any?)

"No. AhhhHH!" The woman suddenly arched off the ground.

"żQué le pasa?" Marco asked her. 
(What's the matter?)

"Siento que me estóy ahogando.." 
(I feel like I'm suffocating..)

"Ok,..no tenga miedo. Nosotros hablamos a el doctor ahorita."
(ok, don't be afraid. We are talking to a doctor right now.)

Lopez quickly handed Cap the note pad he had transcribed.
"She's dyspneic now. I think you should tell them both that fact 
first."

Cap told Roy everything and then he handed Stoker
Marco's interviewed information to read off to Dr. Morton, 
who was waiting on the phone line.

A minute later, both paramedic and physician said the same 
thing over two sets of speakers. ##Try nitroglycerin for now until 
the other squad is allowed in. ##

Stoker had been walked through on how to connect the 
woman's EKG leads into the biophone.

Morton took responsibility so Marco and Stoker could give the woman 
the angina medication orally. ##That's only if her pressure's above 100 
systolic..## Morton punctuated over the speaker. 

## Repeat once every five minutes up to three tablets as long as that 
B/P reading stays there, fellas. ## added Roy.

Lopez dug around the drug box until he found the tiny brown
pill bottle marked NTG. Then he tapped one out onto
his hand and crouched over the woman. "Senora. Habre los ojos.
Esta medicina vá debajo de la lengua. Venga en, abra la boca. Esta 
siente mejór después de tomar la medicina."  (Maam, open your eyes. 
This medicine goes under your tongue. Come on, open your mouth. You'll 
feel better after you've taken this medication.) 

The woman gagged for a moment on the nitroglycerin tablet but
then her face smoothed after half a minute and her cheeks flushed a 
more healthy looking ruddy color. They all saw the rhythm on the heart 
monitor even out just a touch. Marco felt her hand, gripping his own, 
ease off completely before she finally let go.

"żSe siente mejor?" Marco asked once she had relaxed.
(Do you feel better?)

The sweaty woman nodded. "Gracías bombero."
(Thank you fireman.) Then she reached up and grabbed
Cap's radio. "Primos. No pegaron el gringo paramedico no mas. 
Vamos al hospital Rampart, el y yo. Necesitamos ir ahora. Ellos me 
han ayudado. Usted debe sentirse la vergüenza para sentir la 
necesidad para la venganza. Carlos ha pagado el precio para su 
falta de honradez cuando él robó del tren. Su muerte era el hace de Dios.
Permita que mí apene con la honradez. " (Cousins, don't hit the white 
paramedic anymore. We're going to Rampart Hospital, he and I.  We 
need to go right now. They have helped me. You should feel shame for 
feeling the need for revenge. Carlos has paid the price for his dishonesty 
when he stole from the train. His death was the will of God. Let me grieve 
with honesty.)

All around the street, weapons were dropped to the pavement
as the elder's weeping plea was echoed around the police's
and Squad 51's HT frequencies. Seconds later, Squad Eight
roared up with an ambulance following close behind.

Hank snapped an order. "As soon as she's stabilized,
bring all three in together." he ordered the paramedics
from Station Eight. "This is Vince's suggestion so
we're cleared away from here as fast as possible."

"Understood, captain." Craig Brice replied.

The elder's IV was quickly started by Brice and Belliveau 
and heart meds soon leveled the arrythmias shooting across
the EKG screen. 

Johnny Gage was lowered onto a backboard once a cervical 
collar had been applied and then he was tucked into a handy stokes 
for a side bench transport. Captain Stanley personally carried 
Johnny's I.V. bag during his packaging and loading until
it was time to hang it on the rig's wall hook. 

Hank leaned into Vince. "You know we didn't really need
Roy to treat the woman. We could've gotten permission
from Dr. Morton directly. We had the biophone right there."

"I knew, Hank. I knew. " said Howard. "The ruse worked. Didn't it?"

"This time. What about for the next time?" Cap wondered morbidly.

Vince sighed. "We'll cross that bridge when we come to it."


Roy DeSoto denied any head symptoms.
He was allowed to ride to the hospital sitting up, once his
many cuts and bruises had been poked and prodded and
covered up and after he had his vital signs checked out.

Marco, was busy until the very last minute. "Lo siento, pero no 
podemos llevar mas personas atras. Ella vá estar bien." (I'm sorry, 
but we can't have any more people in the back. She's going to 
be fine.) he told the elder's claimed next of kin.

The double doors on the Mayfair closed, leaving Brice alone
with a sick woman, a dazed paramedic and a second, very 
very  very,..quiet one. 

Roy was mute the whole way in as he let Brice do all the work
of keeping his goose egged partner awake and within the realm 
of verbally responsive consciousness. 

Finally, DeSoto said something just before the interns and
orderlies opened the ambulance doors up for wheeling them
all into the treatment room hallway. "I really...hate ...the city now. 
I'm gonna move Joanne and the kids a little farther out towards 
the high country just as soon as I can. I think I'll start making plans 
next week."

"Thinking about leaving the department, DeSoto?" Brice
asked him.

"No, just the ambience of the sadder part of Los Angeles.
Thank you very much." he said sarcastically.

Brice took that to mean that Roy DeSoto wasn't too physically
hurt to feel a real true anger over the attack he and Johnny had
just suffered at the hands of unthinking people.

------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------


"So, this is a reversal.." said Gage from his hospital bed at
the street clothes garbed DeSoto and Brice and surprisingly,
Chet Kelly. "Didya bring me any candy like I brought for you
last week, Craig?"

"Nothing you can choke on." Roy quipped. "Have a taco.
Marco cooked up those special,  just for you." he said,
handing his head bandage wrapped partner, a tupperware 
full of steaming, south of the border, delectables.

Johnny made a face. "I'm just about latin american-ed out for
a while. Between accidently killing one, to getting beaten
up by a whole gang of em, to being saved by one, I've had
just about all I can stomach on that theme for the rest of the 
year."

"Don't tell Marco Lopez that. He might get offended." replied
Craig Brice seriously.

"Brice, I'm just not hungry yet. They just ended my D5W  I.V. 
a couple of hours ago, you know."

"Good." said Chet quickly. "Then you don't mind if
I dig in a little, pal? Thanks. I'm still starving." he said, grabbing 
the yellow container out of Johnny's hands and opening it. "You 
fellas want some? Here, let me grab some paper towels from the 
bathroom." he said chewing noisily. He held up the food so Roy and 
Brice could partake in a second round of feasting, too, before
disappearing into the depths of the rest room for a roll of towelling.
    "Man, Gage. You've been missing out on some radical fire duty. 
We may be done with the Amtrak wreck and it's....uh, associated 
resident gang members, but we sure as heck have been starting 
a record week of station burn calls. We've been roaring, non 
stop, for just about every kind of fire imaginable. Dumpster fires, 
brush fires, mine fires, stove fires, even a pool fire when some dork 
mistook a can of charcoal starter for a jug of dechlor solution. 
Geesh, what an idiot he was..." Chet rambled on. 

Gage swore he could feel another near coma coming on,
just listening to his enthusiastic coworker. ::But I'd rather feel some 
nauseated, twisted insides over some as yet too early food, than 
experience anything like that twisted train or gang, ever again.:: he 
concluded. ::At least, not until I've been well fed, well slept. And not
until I'm completely without a single aching muscle or pulsating bone left 
anywhere in my entire body. Only then will I think about re-tackling the 
big stuff. But, ..not  today. I deserve a break more than they could ever 
possibly know.::

Gage reached for one of Lopez's mild green salsa tacos with 
a good heart and he bit off one end, very carefully.

                                           FIN

              Episode Fourteen, Twisted,  Season Two

-----------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Photo:  Vince by a house looking alerted.

Photo:  A dazed propped up, Johnny Gage.

Photo:  Cap on the biophone line behind a car.

Photo:  Marco and Stoker, pleased, by the engine.

Photo:  Roy under duress in smoke, crawling.

Photo:  Marco with a cooking pan, smiling.

Photo:  An old lady being gurney loaded by a caregiver.

**************************************************************************
FIN 
            
                                                              
                                                          §§  Twisted  §§

                      :)    This episode is dedicated to Fire Chief James O           :)
                             Page who was often noted as the father of modern 
                             emergency medicine in the fire service. He served 
                             as technical consultant and writer for the "Emergency!" 
                             television series. In 1979, he founded JEMS (Journal 
                             of Emergency Medical Services).  Jim was found      
                             unconscious in a swimming pool at a spa. A nurse in 
                             another swimming lane started CPR and 911 was 
                             activated, but the spa had no AED available for the
                             bystanders at his side. Please support installing 
                             AED defibrillators in your work place and learn the skill. 
                             Absolutely anyone can take the class and kids as
                       :)    young as twelve years old can safely operate one.         :)                                                              

 
 The Story Unfolds...

Season Two, Episode Fifteen..

 §§   00:51   §§
 
 ****************************************************** 
From :  Cory Anda <andacory@hotmail.com> 
Sent :  Monday, October 4, 2004 1:40 AM 
Subject :  Dixie's Day Off... 
  

Dixie McCall stretched languidly on her raft just soaking in
the southern Californian sunshine. ::It's just been far...too... long.::
she sighed, listening to the birds nearby playing in her apartment
complex's birdbath. Max, the caretaker's cat, seemed to agree with
her, stretching a single paw down from his perch on the poolside
lifeguard chair.

Children's laughter rang like belltones in her ears as she dozed
under her sunhat and occasionally, the yips of the excited dogs 
watching the other tenants sharing the same pool, splashed and 
played on the sidelines. Sighing, Dixie let the sun fry out her aches, 
one by one. ::If I ever work another double shift like the one I had last
night, may monkeys fly out of my butt.::  she thought. "Ohhh, I hate
head colds." Dixie sniffed, ignoring yet another tickle running down
her throat. She shifted on her inflatable, easing a sudden gut cramp.
The tired nurse let the noonish summer's day work its magic, and 
ignored it. "Guess what, Kel?" she mumbled to herself, still quite
alone on her side of the pool. "I'm cancelling dinner plans. This
day is gonna be just ..for......ZZzzzzz...zzz.."

The lulling waves returned her to a state of blissful somnolence.

Dixie didn't know how long she had drifted, when an uneasy pup's
whine sliced through her dreams. McCall made a face.

Then the kids started screaming. Dixie shot up onto her hands, blinking
in the torrid sun's glare, her eyes tearing. She cast her head about towards
the frightened children, shouting in alarm. "What's the problem here?!"

One petrified boy pointed to someplace behind Dixie. McCall turned.
One of the Miller dogs was still whining, standing rigid on a second
floating rubber raft, looking at something down under the water. 

Dixie saw a wavering form shimmer, sprouting legs
and motionless, drifting arms. 

"Mr. Miller!" she gasped, twisting off the raft. Dixie swam as
fast as she could across the pool, shouting as she went, "Call
the Fire Department Rescue Squad! My patio door's open!"
she told the children. One of the oldest started running for
the phone.

Dixie plunged into the pool's depths, opening her eyes. It was
deep at that end and Gerald Miller was no tiny teenager 
when she finally reached him and started hauling his spasming
lanky body to the surface.  She kicked through a plume of red.
::He's hit his head?:: McCall analyzed.

The side cramp biting her earlier made a comeback. Dixie
grunted bubbles, cursing. But then her hand caught the edge
of the pool's rim and her chin broke into the air. The stench of
chlorine poured into Dixie's stuffy nose and she opened her mouth,
spitting out luke warm water.

"Is my brother ok?" asked a tiny blond girl in active horror.

Dixie threw an arm over Ger's shoulder and rolled his slack
face out of the water, taking care to not jar his spine. The
teenager was unconscious now and he fountained water out
his nose and mouth when she turned him. ::Drowning.:: she 
thought. Holding him still, the nurse beckoned to the kids.
"Push something over to me!" she ordered, treading water. "I need
a support surface to lie him on. Even a lounger will work."

But the chairs along the sunning area were chained to the fence.
Dixie swore. "There! Use that." and she jerked her head towards
the blue raft from which the frantic dog was barking.

Two young boys leaped in and shoved it close.

Dixie managed to get it floating perpendicular under
Ger's chest with his head splinted level in both her hands.
She didn't bother to drain him further and started right in
with a breath attempt. Ger gurgled, but his chest rose.

McCall's fingers found the groove in his neck.
::Sh*t. His pulse's almost gone.::  Dixie kept holding
the teenager's head in alignment around her jaw thrust.
She lifted rushing eyes to the panicking children surrounding
her."Kids, we gotta get him out. Now. Remember how to
do that? Like I showed ya in kidscouts.. We're gonna make
a ramp out of the pump pipe cover by the shed. All right? 
Go get it!  I gotta keep helping him." she said, blowing another 
breath through the suffocating man's chest water.

Ger's color had grayed before her eyes by the time they
got back. "No, Ger. Keep fighting!" Dixie hissed into his ear 
as she pushed air into his lungs.

The oldest boy ran back outside."The operator said that
they're on their way! I got through!"

"Terrific.." McCall grinned up at him.
 She used the other children swimming around
her to keep Miller's head and back unjostled. 

Between the five of them, the slippery teen slid off
the long piece of plastic onto the deck quickly. "Watch his
head. Don't move his neck around..." Dixie told the older
ones.

"He's bleeding!" cried the youngest.

"It's not real bad. Head cuts are just messy." Dixie said 
automatically.

"His neck beat's gone! His neck beat's gone!" shouted
Ger's brother, knowing enough to check.

"I know. He's just gone out. Don't be scared. Now. He'll need 
that CPR stuff I taught you all, so girls, dry him off your beach towels, 
especially around his chest. Then nest them about him to soak up 
all of this water." Dixie said rapidly, thinking ahead for future 
defibrillating.

Hauling on a rope of floats, McCall flung herself out of
the pool. She scrambled over to the teen's head and
reopened an airway by lifting his jaw bone. "Michael, now take
over here. Hold his chin just like this when you give your 
breaths, ok? Move nothing else. I'll start here." Dixie told the
boy, beginning compressions. "Don't be alarmed if water
squirts out after a bit. Let it come. The more of it, the better."

Dixie's cramp was a vice now, and her nose ran, so she
lifted one leg and crouched on her right foot to ease it. Already,
McCall was sweating and beads of it stung her eyes. She
glanced up as Ger's brother delivered another breath mouth
to nose. "That's fine, Mike. Give those a little deeper. Keep 
going. Good job." McCall panted, keeping up her CPR.

After each pulse check, Dixie lifted her head toward the
veranda's main gate listening acutely for the sound of sirens.

--------------------------------------------------------------------- 

Photo :   Dixie on a pool raft, sunning with a hat over her eyes.

Photo :   Birdbath full of bluebirds.

Photo :   Panicking kids at a pool's edge.

Photo :   A dog on a raft seeing a submersed victim.

Photo :   A sunny apartment poolside with palms.

Photo :   Dixie, talking urgently.

******************************************************
From:  "Roxy Dee" <laterrapincabesa@hotmail.com> 
Date:  Thu Oct 7, 2004  8:32 pm 
Subject:  The Narrow Path..

   
Dixie McCall reached down yet again to the drowned teenager's 
throat after another long minute. Her chilled fingers found a thready
carotid. "Michael! Trade places with me. He's got a pulse.
Hold his head still, in between your knees, as I keep ventilating
him." she requested, keeping in line stabilization with her hold
on his airway. "Keep talking to him, hon. He's in trouble but he can
still hear us."

Stuttering nervously, Michael leaned down to his brother's ear.
"Ger. I promise I won't tell anyone what you did in the house. 
Just wake up, ok? Dad's gonna be so mad you jumped head 
first into the shallow end like we're not supposed to."

McCall looked up at the nine year old, about to ask him what 
that house comment had meant, when the wail of sirens and 
squealing tires heralded a paramedic squad's arrival.

It was 51's. 

"Johnny! Roy! Non-breathing, but with a pulse now! 
He was under, I'm guessing,.. less than two minutes."

DeSoto and Gage flew into the yard, 02 tank clattering, with a
police officer in tow, lugging the defibrillator and a backboard.

"Officer, set those by his head." Johnny ordered. Then he 
wrapped a thick cervical collar around Ger's neck without 
getting in the way of Dixie's mouth to mouth resuscitation.

Roy moved immediately to kick the drying blankets the children
had used out of the way. "Dixie? We thought the address was
familiar." 

"Sorry for scaring you fellas but this was pressing.." she replied,
delivering another breath to the boy carefully.

Johnny felt the teen's distended stomach. "This getting in
the way?"

"More and more."

Gage got busy setting up the demand valve to take
over for the nearly exhausted nurse.

Roy finished hooking up the EKG monitor and he put the 
defibrillator on charged standby. Then he set up the 
biophone's antennae and began a hail. "Rampart, this
is Rescue 5..1.."

##Go ahead, 51## answered Brackett over the line.

"Rampart, we have a male approximately fourteen 
years of age. Victim of an apparent diving accident."

Dix waggled her head in agreement at Roy's guess
at mechanism of injury as she accepted the positive 
pressure mask from Gage and began using it.

Johnny flung open the I.V. box and grabbed out what 
he needed rapidly. 

Roy continued his report. "...He's been under active
resuscitation, non-breathing now, but with a regained
pulse following CPR. He's on 15 liters of assisted O2.
Spinal precautions have been taken. Please stand by
for the vital signs."  He set the phone onto his shoulder
as he tore pieces of IV tape off a dispenser to stick
in rows onto his leg.

##Standing by, 51.##

McCall rattled off Ger's pulse and its quality, and
his consciousness level."120 and thready. No reaction
to pain. Pupils, reactive, but sluggish."

DeSoto nodded, getting a quick B/P while Johnny
did a rapid head to toe survey after listening to
the boy's breath sounds via scope. "I'm getting rales
bilaterally." he said.

"He took in a lot of water.." Dixie confirmed catching
her breath back as she used the ventilator on their
patient.

Gage went on. "Negative Babinski's." he said after
he ran a pair of forceps points up the bottom's
of both of the teenager's feet.

Dixie sighed in relief. "One point in his favor.."

Gage rewrapped the stethoscope around his neck. He 
peered at the blood oozing from the boy's temple. 
"This looks minor. There's no depression." Then he
looked for cerebral spinal fluid out the ears and nose.
"No CSF, Roy."

"Ok, Johnny. Better call out for the engine. His B/P's
sixty over P."

Gage jerked his head in affirmation and grabbed 
his walkie talkie. "L.A., This is Squad 51."

##Squad 51.##

"Respond Engine 51 for medical assistance to
our location."

## 10-4, Squad 51. Time out, 12:51.##

Everyone ignored the broadcast tones over the
frequency, double echoed through the squad's
Motorola Converta-com and the HT as Captain
Stanley acknowledged the run and gave an ETA.

Dixie felt a wave of fatigue. "Johnny, I'm tired." she
shivered. "I gotta give it up."

"All right." Gage said, eyeing her up, a little
self conscious because of Dixie's skimpy
made-for-the-sun, two piece bikini. "Rescuing's 
hard work. Why don't you..uh,, wrap up, sit
down and rest a while. We got it."

The motorcop smoothly took over teenager's 
mechanical ventilations.

Dixie barely felt the kids throw a flannel quilt over 
her shoulders, offering her their gratitude with timid
pats and hugs as she parked on a lounger by
the edge of the swimming pool. McCall shook her
head, thinking out loud. Then she snapped her 
fingers. " Amy Miller, can you go get that consent
form your mother's got hanging on the frig? These
firemen are gonna need it to give Ger some 
medication."

"Ok, Dixie. I'll be right back, Ger!" cried the tiny
child before she ran off.

DeSoto got his first orders. 

##51, Start an I.V. Normal Saline with an insulin
drip. I'm gonna assume he was coding longer than
two minutes. I want to terminate any catecholamine
release effects before they complicate things for us.
Go ahead and administer 1.0 mg Lidocaine IV push
to control any intracranial pressure he might have from
that possible head injury. Prepare to insert an esophageal
airway and send me a strip. Add 1 mg Sodium Bicarb,
then turn his drip to TKO. Let me know when you've
secured your airway. ##

"10-4, Rampart. I.V. Normal Saline with insulin, Lidocaine
and Sodium Bicarb. This'll be lead 2."

The reassuring sound of the Ward Pumper's deeper siren grew
then fell away with the bark of her airhorn. 

##L.A. Engine 51's on scene.## came Stoker's transmission.

##10-4, Engine 51. Time is 12:55.## replied L.A. Dispatch.

The pool kids, except Michael, went running to fetch the 
other firemen to show them the way.

Roy lifted his HT. "Cap, we'll need all hands and
the spare O2. Active resus."

##10-4, HT 51.##

Ger suddenly started to seize and his stomach rippled.

Gage startled. "Is he vomiting?" he asked the police
man, with his hands full of supplies.

"No, there's nothing here yet. ....But.."

"But what?" Roy asked, impatient.

"I..don't think I'm getting a chest rise anymore.." the
officer admitted. "Just started happening."

"D*mn!" Johnny swore, feeling Gerald's throat for
the beat and double checking the jaw lift. "Try
another vent again."

The cop triggered the thumb button. Despite a
tight seal over skin, the demand valve failed
to accomplish a finished breath. The officer
shook his head. "See? Just like I told ya."

Johnny flew into action. "Roy, ask for a nasogastric
tube. He's really blocked and in a convulsion from
hypoxia. His gums are blue. I wanna drain that 
distension now."

Roy hurried and updated Dr. Brackett about
the new developments.

## I confirm rising tachycardia on the scope, 51.
Relieve that intragastric pressure with an NG tube
and watch for signs of an obstructed airway..##
Kel snapped crisply.

Working together, Roy and Johnny inserted a well
lubricated catheter into the teen's unbloodied
nostril and got it down past a sudden odd resistance.
Frothy pink emesis welled out of the tube's end and
onto the concrete in a noisy involuntary belch. Then
Ger's bulging stomach fell flatter than it had been.

"Ok, try him now." Gage told the policeman as
he quickly drew the tube back out again and suctioned
out the boy's nose and mouth. Difficult breaths went
in.

Stoker, Chet and Lopez immediately knew what
to do at a mere glance of the area. They shifted the
backboard until it lay flush with Ger's back as Johnny
and Roy log rolled him onto his side for more
active suctioning. Swiftly, the head block, chest, waist
and leg straps were settled and tightened into place.

Leaning down, Johnny examined the stain on the pavement.
It was sweet smelling. "Roy, he's been drinking...." he
said flatly, not happy.

DeSoto's face tightened. "He's just a kid."

"I know."

Roy picked up the phone again. "Rampart, we've
positive evidence of ETOH ingestion."

Brackett returned a long sigh of resignation
and sadness. ##10-4, Roy. Then we're all the better
for that insulin drip counteracting things."

Roy had the advanced airway prepped and gelled. "I'm
gonna need one of you for a Sellick's maneuver."
he told the gang.

"Me." Marco volunteered and he peeled off his coat
and gloves and kneeled down.

DeSoto had foregone the EOA for an endotracheal tube.
"Stoker, why don't you take over on the O2? Thanks,
Officer Palmer.." he read from the man's name tag.

"No problem." The officer stood back to begin his
incident report, allowing the more experienced firefighter
engineer to take over the task.

----------------------------------------------------------------------

Hank noticed Dixie McCall bundled up on her chair.
"So much for the day off, eh?" he grinned for her benefit.
"Nothing like a little excitement to liven up an afternoon."

Dixie just coughed at Stanley's encouraging humor
while avoiding the bright sun beating down on
her from his direction.

She felt a glove on her shoulder that made her jump.

"You ok there, Dixie?" Cap asked. "Sorry. I didn't
mean to startle you."

Dixie afforded the helmeted captain a smile. 
"I'm fine. Just a little worried."

"About what?"

"About him." she gestured with her head.
"If we can't get that airway in......"

----------------------------------------------------------

A weak, choking jolt upset Roy's positioned
laryngoscope and the paramedic yanked it out
to prevent a sudden mouth injury. "Marco, keep
up that cricoid pressure, whatever you do. Johnny!"

"I'm on it! Rampart, our victim's seizures are worsening. 
So's his color."

##Have you established that ET tube yet?##

"That's negative, doc. We're experiencing some jaw
clenching." Johnny sighed in frustration.

##Knock him out, 51, for a rapid sequence induction.
Point one mg's of Vecuronium IV push. That'll paralyze him 
enough for you to get one inserted. Know that you'll be 
completely responsible afterwards for maintaining his 
airway with adequate ventilations.##

Roy, next to Johnny, gulped.

"10-- uh, 10-4, Rampart." Gage affirmed. "RSI
with .1 mg's Vecuronium IVP."

Stoker spoke up suddenly. "Gage! Laryngospasm!
I'm getting in nothing now."

"What?!" Johnny felt around Marco's Sellick hold. 
He felt a foreboding rock stiff hardness surrounding
Ger's adam's apple. "Roy, ...positive on that... 
Obstruction's total!"

"Rampart, standby... We've a fully obstructed airway."
DeSoto dropped the phone.

##Push the Vecuronium, now! Double it if you have to!##
commanded Kel. ## The increase may help your clearing
attempts..##

Johnny straddled the dripping immobilized teen while Kelly
hastily undid just the abdominal straps of the longboard, 
allowing Gage access to Ger's lower abdomen. The paramedic
delivered four sharp upward thrusts under the teenager's diaphragm
with both hands while Stoker and Chet pinned the boy's head 
and neck still.

Roy sent the muscle paralyzer into Ger's high flowing I.V. 
and hung it dangling on the fence. "It's in. Is it working?"
he looked to Mike Stoker.

The engineer shook his head and demonstrated the 02
gushing out around the mask quickly with some triggering.

Johnny tried a few more abdominal thrusts. Then he
scrambled to Ger's head with a long shafted pair of
Magil forceps in his teeth. He used a jaw screw to open
the shaking teen's mouth to get at the deeper part of his
throat. The lengthy, scissors like instrument was guided
down, but stopped short only along half its usable length.
Gage grimaced as he probed, biting onto a pen light
so he could see what he was doing. "There's nothing
here, Roy. I'm not seeing any vocal cords. It's gotta
be just a laryngospasm. These aren't threading down."
he said of his Magil forceps.

DeSoto nodded, licking dry lips. "Second dose then,
ready?"

Gage nodded, backing off so Stoker could use
the demand valve yet again.

Roy injected a small orange labelled syringe into
the rubber intravenous delivery port deftly. "It's in!"

Stoker and Johnny struggled to offset the teenager's
cyanosis with some chest rise, but they were 
unsuccessful, no matter what they thought to try.

-----------------------------------------------------------------

In the base station, Brackett eyed the running EKG strip
and became ansy. He had to force himself not to interrupt
his hard-at-work men just for an update.

-----------------------------------------------------------------

A dragging minute passed under the firemen's
sweaty exertions. Then Stoker detected a relaxing
jaw. "He's loose.." and then he started to force as many
feebly reaching ventilations as he could into the boy's
lungs. He kept it up until the ominous dark blue began to
fade from Ger's face and lower extremities.

Johnny snatched up the abandoned endotracheal tube
that Roy had left on the teenager's chest and said,
"Hyperventilate him a minute more, Mike. Then move
aside."

Stoker nodded.

Roy lifted the phone. "Rampart, our victim's still
partially obstructed and we can't find what it is.
The paralytic agent's beginning to work, but we're getting
vents into him only with difficulty. Johnny's attempting
another intubation. Both the boy's work of breathing and
his seizures, are now absent." Roy reported, seeing
a quiet, fully drugged stillness, settle over his patient.

Kel let out the breath he was holding. ##Avoid any
stimulus that'll trigger V-fib. He's sensitive to that
now.##

Gage accidently poked the back of Ger's soft palate
with the ET tube as he was visualizing for his vocal
cords.

Roy's head shot up when the EKG monitor warbled 
an arrythmia alarm. "Brady! Back off, Johnny!"

Gage froze and yanked out the tube, digging for
a carotid artery in the boy's neck with his other hand.
"...Stupid!  ..I'm ...stupid...." he grunted.

DeSoto flew to the open drug case when the 
boy's cardiac rate continued to sink into the forties. 
"Rampart!"

## I see it, 51. Point five milligrams Atropine. Speed
him back up again. What I'm seeing here, is vaso vagal 
in origin. It's not an adverse Vecuronium reaction.##

The betablocker soon boosted Ger's heartrate back up
into the low, irregular seventies. Everyone sighed in relief.

## D/C trying the endotrach. I'm authorizing an immediate
needle cricothyrotomy.## Brackett went on..

Gage tossed the ET tube aside.

##....Set up your supplies. Have your head man keep
hyperventilating your victim as best he can. Roy, 
you've told me in the past that you've done one of
these before ..in Nam. You've got the ball once again.##

"10-4, Rampart." Roy replied back, wiping sweat off his lip.

Johnny was a pure professional. He wasn't offended in
the least for being asked to step down during a primary
treatment action. He wanted a resolution to the problem
too badly to even care. He un-papered an adapter to a
7.5 mm sized ET tube, a 10 ml syringe, and a 14 gauge
needle catheter.

Reaching down, he slid a finger on a free hand over the hard
thyroid cartilage running down the midline of Ger's throat until
he found the soft depression of the cricoid membrane. "Ok,
Marco. Keep his trachea from moving around and put
one fingertip,.....here.." And he guided Marco's index finger
to a precise spot on the teenager's sweaty skin. "Mark
that landmark and don't lose it.."

"Believe me, I won't..." Lopez admitted eagerly.

"Ok, Roy. We're ready for you." Johnny said looking 
up, screwing together the puncture lancet."Lopez has
got the trachea splinted." Then Gage handed the whole
rigging over to his much calmer partner. 

DeSoto spoke. "Johnny, could you draw up a mil of
water into the syringe for me, please? I gotta trick
I like to use."

Johnny nodded. "Stoker, is he adequately oxygenated yet?"
he said, filling Roy's needle with a pull of its plunger into
another unused, sterile IV bag.

"As best as he's able. His pupils are still reacting but he's
a little too cold now to judge by his color."

Gage fitted the syringe back into place into the guiding
shaft, curious as to what purpose Roy was going to use
it for. ::Not for med absorption into the lungs, Kel hasn't
ordered any ET drugs yet.:: he thought.

DeSoto took over pressing a finger on the landmark Marco
was guarding. Then he moved his fingertip just enough to 
place the point of the needle directly over the membrane
he could feel. He angled the syringe, end down at 
a forty five towards Ger's feet, and advanced the needle
into the skin, all the while aspirating the plunger upwards
with his pinky and ring fingers. He stopped instantly when
the upward welling suctioning drew up pearling air bubbles.
He smiled. "I'm in the trachea.." he announced.

Roy slid a 3mm endo tube catheter inside the syringe and 
threaded it until it was well into the air passage below,
angled downwards. He withdrew the long needle, passing
it off to Cap to dispose of into the sharps bin.

Johnny flew into action once again. "Ah, now I see what the
water was for.." he said, listening to the teen's chest as
DeSoto fitted the ET adapter's  syringe and catheter's end
onto a high flow oxygen circulating ambu bag. "A better visual."

"Yep." DeSoto blinked.

Lopez helped Roy tape the inserted tenuous airway to
Ger's throat amply and then he took sole charge of
stabilizing it with both hands so that it didn't budge
a single centimeter out of place.

"You're pure cement, Marco." Gage ordered.

"Solid, man. This is going nowhere." he said, 
watching Stoker rapidly make up for lost
ventilating time. "How's he doing now?" the
hispanic fireman asked, marveling at the heavy
bag's ability to work through such a slender tube.

Johnny took the listening ports of the stethoscope
out of his ears. "He's got minimal chest rise. But it's
enough to keep him alive until we get to the hospital. 
Nice work, pal." he grinned. "Thanks everyone."

"Mike, I'll break you." Roy said. "I know just how
to get the most inside without distension happening.
It's a narrow band force of pressure with this sized catheter.
It's just like a newborn's.."

"I'll learn it for next time.." said Stoker as he traded places 
with DeSoto.

Johnny picked up the phone. "Rampart, we have an airway.."

##Congratulations, guys. Now get him in here. I want a vitals
set every five minutes in route. Keep vigilant for good or bad
lung sounds, any sign of expanding hematomas, or subcutaneous
air under the skin. ##

"10-4. We're on our way, Rampart. The ambulance has just
arrived.." Gage said with a smile.

That smile fell away when Dixie McCall suddenly sagged
backwards from where she was seated out of her blanket.
She tumbled limply into the pool when Hank Stanley failed
to catch her in time. "Dixie?!" Johnny yelled.

------------------------------------------------------------------

Photos : None.

*****************************************************************
From :  patti keiper <pattik1@hotmail.com> 
Sent :  Thursday, October 7, 2004 8:44 PM 
Subject :  [EmergencyTheaterLive] The A.M.A. 
  
 
Cap started to get out of his turnout and helmet to go
after her when Gage shouted. "I got her!" He swan dived
into the shallows.

Very quickly, Dixie McCall was conveyed to the surface
and to the edge by many hands. She was lifted up, set
onto the ground and rolled onto her back.

"Dix?" Johnny shook her firmly, monitoring her carotid.
He wiped streaming water away from her nose and
mouth as she began coughing and moaning.

McCall was almost as white as her alabaster swimsuit.

"She's ok.." Gage told the others. Stoker jogged over
with the engine's O2 apparatus. "I think this's just an
episode of syncope, she's waking up already." he
said. "Let's move her to one of those chairs and
get her wrapped up before you start her on that Mike."

Roy looked up from where he and Marco were
still watching and working on Ger. "Johnny?! What's
the problem?"

"I don't know yet!" he shouted, letting Stoker, Cap
and Kelly transfer Dixie from the concrete to a 
head raised sunchair. "Let me check her out."
he coughed. "Keep packaging him for transport.
I'll call a second ambulance for her if I have to."

Cap reaffirmed Johnny's plan, setting an oxygen 
mask over McCall's nose and mouth. "That's
gonna be the call."  He waved on Stoker to notify
L.A. of their need for an additional Mayfair or
Cadillac. "I don't like her breathing rate. It's labored."

"Umm hmm, something's definitely going on here.." 
Johnny agreed. "Dix, can you hear me?"

She didn't answer past a few groans.

Chet Kelly continued to try to get a legible verbal
response out of the nurse while Johnny got a B/P
off her arm.

The children were scared but they stayed out of the
way, remaining maturely silent.

Gage saw that Roy was ready to go. "You keep
the biophone."

"She stable?"

"Yeah. Her B/P's no longer low. Take Marco with you for
that airway support. Kelly can follow me in the squad
later after the other ambulance gets here."

Roy was a bulldog. "Use a landline, ok? The kids can
bring out a phone to you for you to use for her." DeSoto 
said, shuffling along behind the gurney leading attendants, 
carrying the defibrillator and the drug box.

"I know. I know.. Just go already. The sooner you leave,
the sooner I'll find out some answers on her. Don't
worry...I'll contact ya on HT as soon as I find out anything."
Gage grumbled.

"No, I'll do that.." Cap promised.

"All right." Roy replied, waving the ambulance men
on again. "I'm going..."

Johnny paid no more attention to him as Ger was carted
off Code Three to Rampart Hospital.

----------------------------------------------------------------------
Cap and Johnny turned back from watching Roy
hustle away to find Chet inexplicably armed with a mug
of steaming coffee, which he was waving underneath Dixie's
nose near the O2 mask on blow by so that she could
smell it.

Dixie sputtered, shifting her head from side to side.

"Kelly, cut that out this instant!" Hank boomed.

Gage gave out an exasperated shout of mild disgust and he grabbed
the cup away from Kelly. "Chet, would you knock it off!? Where did you
get such a crazy idea in the first place?!" he demanded, gently
replacing the mask as McCall's eyes fluttered open.

"From them.." Chet shrugged.

"Yeah," said the oldest child standing nearby. "It was my idea.
We do this coffee trick all the time when Miss McCall won't wake
up after sunbathing. She told us to so she wouldn't ever be late
for work."

"Well kids, I hate to break it to ya, but today is Dixie's DAY ..OFF!
Thanks for all your help. We got it from here. Now, sCRAMMM!"
Gage exploded.

The children, all three dogs,..and the caretaker's cat, took fright
and all of them ran away as fast as they could with screams, barks
and a yowl.

"That wasn't very smart." Hank interjected when the noise died away.

"Huh?" Gage double taked. "Why not? They're out of our hair..Unlike
some people.." he glared at Chet.

"We don't have our outside phone yet, you twit." Cap said, smacking 
Johnny lightly on the back of the head for emphasis on the word, "twit."

"I'll get it." said Stoker. "I think I remember a phone being in the pool
party hut from last year. It most likely has a cord on it long enough to
reach us.."

Johnny didn't even hear him. "I'm not the twit. Chet's the twit.. Geesh,
Cap. Think about it. Reviving someone with coffee fumes? Now I've 
seen it all."  He kept glaring at Kelly. "Just what were you thinking?"
he asked Chet sarcastically.

"It worked, didn't it? She's almost speaking." Chet countered.
"At least java's kinder on the old nostrils than an ammonia capsule.
I should know. You've used enough of em on me as the Phantom
in the middle of the night when I was still sleeping..."

Hank just rolled his eyes and asked L.A. for the ETA on Dixie's
ambulance.

"No...ambulance.." coughed Dixie, sitting a little straighter in
her chair. A flush of growing embarrassment was staining her cheeks
and erasing all of her remaining questionable clinical signs red tagging
problems. "I'm......fine, fellas. Really!" she protested, peeling off her 
oxygen firmly. 'I'm awake, I'm aware.. I know who I am, where I am and 
what happened....I'm not going anywhere.." she hissed with a little of 
her normal heavy guns tone. "If I see that hospital one more time this 
week, I'll rip all my hair out for sure.." she promised.

Johnny tossed his paramedic's notepad that he had been
writing in over a shoulder and threw his hands up, rubbing his face 
in exasperation. "I don't believe this is happening, Cap.." he whined.
"We gotta get her t--"

Hank held up his palms. "Now, Gage, you know the law as well as 
I do. The little lady's obviously fully cognizant enough, legally, to decide
what's best for hers----"

"Little lady?!" Dixie fumed.

Hank shrank in his overcoat. "Sorry. Poor choice of words? To me,
everybody's little." commented the lanky fire captain sheepishly.
"I apologize if I offended you but the important thing right now
is finding out whether or not you're really ok. We can hash over
how this is being handled afterwards, all right?"

Dixie drew up a glare. "Cancel that Mayfair, Hank. I have a cold....
That's all." she said dangerously.

Cap felt the back of his neck smoking from the strength of her
ire. "Ok.. canceling. ." he said reasonably and fully respectful
of her wish to end the medical call. "Gage, she's allllll yoourrsss."

"Thanks, Cap.." Johnny was thrilled. Not.

"Kelly," Cap barked. "...let's give them a little earshot distance.
Come on, pal.."

"Aww, Cap. I wanna stay and help out.." Chet whined.

"Now, Chet!" Stanley snapped.

"...coming..." Kelly peeped.

The two firemen packed up the O2 and turned for the direction
of the Ward just as Mike Stoker came panting up with the private
phone rigged onto a bright orange extension cord. "I got it..
Hang on while I dial o--"

Stanley didn't even bother to turn around. "Jolly well. The
gang's all here. Now put it back. I guess she's a refusal, Stoker."

"What?"

"Is there something wrong with your ears or mine, Mike." Cap
snarled.

"Mine, Cap." Stoker bellied up.

"Fine. Clean up this mess around here and cancel the second
ambulance while you're at it." He began to tromp away. "Oh,"
he said, retracing his tracks. "You're deaf to those two for the 
next minute or so.." he said tossing a hand at Dixie and Gage.

"I sure will be.." chirped Stoker, recognizing a pending bit of
paramedic hardball to come when he saw it. He stooped only 
long enough to use a water puddle to wash off some blood
after he had policed the area free of medical run fallout. Then
he was gone, with Cap being his bigger shadow.

-----------------------------------------------------------------------------------
Gage willfully stopped drumming his frustrated fingernails on the
arm of Dixie's poolside chair. He laced his hands together in an
unconvincing show of amenability. "Ok.." he smiled, falsely fake.
"Now where were we?" he purred, ..tightly.

"Talking about how normal I am right now.." Dixie said, crossing
her arms together.

"I wouldn't call keeling over backwards into a swimming
pool in a dead faint, quite normal, Dixie. Quite the opposite."
he growled.

"Look..." Dixie purred, just as deadly serious. "I just got
done with twenty five solid minutes of aggressive, rapid CPR."
Would you still be normal after doing that?" she fired back at him.

Johnny gaped like a fish, then he pursed his lips, scratching 
his head. "Well...." he admitted, his voice sliding up a few notes
on a scale. 'I-- uh, I'll give you that...... particular point."

"Good! Then go away cause I'm telling you, I'm perfectly--"
Dixie sneezed and immediately, she gasped, grabbing
her stomach.

"Oh, really?" Gage moved in for the kill. "That was normal,
eh?.. Come on, Dix. Let me see your stomach!" Johnny said, 
reaching out for palpating check.

McCall whipped up the blanket to her chin, deflecting
Johnny's hands as she resumed her angry stare.
"Touch me, and I swear I'll bite your hand off!
Today is gonna be all MINE!" she yelled, barely 
keeping it below a quiet roar.

--------------------------------------------------------------
"Is there a problem here?" came an authoritative
voice.

Both the battling Dixie and Gage looked up, kinda 
startled for a moment. They had forgotten about
the cop being there. And his report.

"No..no.."
"Nope. Not at all." they both stuttered. 

"We're through.." said Dixie firmly. Johnny said
the same words, meekly obedient. "We're through,
officer.. uh,...I guess.."

"Okay, then you wouldn't mind if I go over a few
details with Miss McCall here about the Miller boy.
That's if.. you found that she's still medically ABLE to.."
the police officer hinted.

"I AM." Dixie punctuated, dismissing Johnny with
a wave.

Johnny cleared his throat uncomfortably. "Go right
ahead, officer." Gage postured, backing away and
wrapping up his stethoscope.

He fired off one last glare at her when the cop wasn't looking.
"You call us back if ANY of those symptoms return. Understood?!"
he hissed, stabbing down a finger at the air. That gesture 
immediately turned into a farewell wave when the police man 
glanced up at Johnny with a disapproving raised eyebrow.

Dixie celebrated. "Mother's keeper.." And then she stuck out
her tongue at him. "In...your....dreams..." 

------------------------------------------------------------------------
So, having chalked up one save and another one as unresolved, 
Station 51 tucked their tails back between their legs and
left the neighborhood. The engine returned to base as unavailable
and the squad remained 10-7 to Rampart until everyone was
freed up from their mutual responsibilities.

Gage continued to pore over Dixie's symptoms.

"Maybe I should let one of the docs know about her." he mumbled
to Chet on the way back.

"I wouldn't if I were you. You still have to WORK with Dixie later on,
man. Do you really want to face her once she's over that cold
of hers?"
---------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Photo : Dixie falling into swimming pool.

Photo: Johnny soaked to the skin.

Photo : Dixie in a faint in Gage's arms.

Photo:  Cap on the HT outside close by the Ward.

***************************************************************************
From :  wone3 <jwilds@prodigy.net> 
Sent :  Sunday, October 10, 2004 3:38 PM 
Subject :  [EmergencyTheaterLive] Nagging Doubts 
  
  
"You are right, Chet." Gage told him with a bit of hesitation. He 
didn't want to face the wrath of Dixie. 

He had faced that wrath too many times as an injured party in 
Rampart's emergency room, avoiding being admitted for injuries 
received on the job. She would use that no-nonsense-she-was-right 
attitude, much like she did a few moments ago. 

Still something was nagging at him that she was injured more than 
she'd let on. ::Call it intuition:: he thought for a few more 
minutes, planning on stopping in to check on her after the shift 
change, as a friend. He figured that maybe he wouldn't receive quite 
as much wrath as he would've if he were on duty still. He'd run all of 
his suspicions by Roy first though, and maybe they could come up 
with a better plan together. 

The drive to Rampart moved on silently as Johnny drove and Chet 
looked out the window.
--------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

The police officer, eyeballing Dixie and deciding she still wasn't 
quite right, decided to keep his questioning short and to the point. 

Dixie was sitting a bit more straight in the chair than she had been
while Johnny was there. "Can you tell me what happened, Ma'am?" 
he asked. 

Dixie told him everything, including about hearing what one of 
the teens had said to the injured boy, of not mentioning what had
happened in the house. After finishing her story, Dixie kind of fell 
back into her chair in an exhausted state. 

The officer, seeing this, thanked her for her time after getting her 
contact information and gave her his card. He mentioned that if anymore 
information was needed, he'd come by to get it from her, and then he 
turned and left to return to his car to drive to the hospital.

After they had all left, Dixie decided, in her exhausted state, that 
she'd had enough sunbathing for one day. She was still feeling the 
gripping pain in her stomach and her cold like symptoms weren't 
letting up, so she went inside to lie down for a bit. "Maybe this 
is all I need to lessen a few of these symptoms," she said to 
herself. 

After locking her patio door, Dixie snuggled up in her bed 
and soon fell asleep.

----------------------------------------------------------------------------------
Roy and Marco were quietly talking in the ambulance as it sped away 
from the apartment complex with Roy watching their patient closely. 

Marco asked, "Do you think  Miss McCall will be all right, Roy?"  

Roy reassured Marco,"Johnny is there to look out for her and he 
won't let anything happen that he couldn't do something about."

The entire crew of 51-A held this nurse with a great deal of caring 
and concern, as it seemed like they dealt with her frequently, due to 
injuries on the job. She seemed to always be there for them, whether 
they were the injured one or one of the waiting room party. 

Roy couldn't help but feel as though something more was going on. 

He would check on the situation once freed up in the emergency room. 

Fortunately, the ride to the hospital was a short one and their 
patient did not grow any worse from the trip. Dr. Brackett was 
waiting for the ambulance to pull up and he told them to go to 
Treatment Room 2. Roy took a look at the desk as they sped by 
and noticed Carol was busy on the phone. 

He'd go check with her to see if Johnny had called in as soon as he 
was free. 

The gurney reached the treatment room and soon the patient was 
lifted over to the examination table and the ambulance attendants 
left the room. 

Carol entered the room with two other nurses. 

Before the doctor could give out orders, Roy asked Carol, 
"Have you been on the phone with Johnny?" 

Brackett looked at Roy quizzingly about that statement. Roy then 
debated with himself about how much he should tell the doc. He had a 
suspicion there was more than friendship between the doctor and the 
nurse and what he would say would really get to the doc. He also 
knew, though, that Brackett wouldn't let it go until he heard the 
truth. So Roy hesitantly started to tell his tale.

"The run we responded to was at Dixie's apartment complex. We 
found her performing CPR on the patient with a group of kids 
assisting her as much as possible when we arrived," he 
continued. "After we had finished contacting you about the re-
establishment of the teen's airway, Dixie seemingly fainted and fell 
into the pool. I know she was coming around when I left but I know 
nothing more than that," Roy finished, knowing the anxiety he was 
causing everyone in the room. 

Carol answered Roy question, "I've been on the phone ordering tests 
and checking on patients inside the hospital and I know that Johnny 
hadn't called in when I came in here." 

That bothered Roy for a minute but he knew Dixie had been 
coming around as they left, he thought to himself. If she was feeling fine 
and stubborn, Dixie wouldn't let them bring her in for something non 
critical in her book. He assumed that was the case and figured the 
squad would be there shortly. 

Roy's story also concerned Brackett for a brief moment but he needed 
to fully concentrate on his patient. 

"I'm meeting Dixie tonight and I can check on things." he told the 
room. ::I won't leave her until I'm COMPLETELY satisfied that she's 
doing just fine:: he continued in his thoughts, and then he refocused 
entirely on the patient. 

------------------------------------------------------------------------

Photos:  None.

************************************************************
From :  Cassidy Meyers <killashandrarey@hotmail.com> 
Sent :  Wednesday, October 13, 2004 1:07 AM 
Subject :  Connections 


It was an hour later, not long after the Miller boy had been 
stabilized cardiac wise from respiratory acidosis. He had gone 
on to Broncoscopy for a thorough check on the extent of the 
alveoli damage that he sustained from his aspiration of 
chlorinated pool water into both his lungs.

Kel was very happy with the teenager's labwork, C spine
and chest x-ray films. He was being kept under the paralytic
agent to thwart another surprise occurance of intubation
laryngospasm. The boy had been reunited with his family
and things looked good on the EEG. Dr. Brackett was almost
certain that no brain damage took place while he had been
arrested. ::Helps that someone was there to work on his resuscitation
so quickly.:: he theorized. ::My gut feeling on his neurological status
will just be confirmed when he wakes up tomorrow morning.::

That line of thinking reminded Kel yet again of his short,
revealing conversation with Roy DeSoto about Dixie McCall.

The four firemen from 51's had gone back to the station as soon 
as they were freed from the Miller kid's care and paperwork, 
jammed together in the rescue squad.  He had wished that
he could've talked to Johnny Gage directly about his head nurse's
symptomatic findings, but he had been too tied up with his
teenaged patient's surgical intubation procedure.

Kelly Brackett excused himself from the Emergency Department
floor, letting Carol know that he'd be in his office for a few minutes.
His simple nod and gesture toward its ornately polished dark oaken
door guaranteed that Carol would indeed notify him the moment
another patient case announced itself either by paramedic biophone
or via the waiting room.

The babble of hospital activity was mercifully muffled when he
shut the door behind himself. Kel Brackett immediately went
to the olive green phone on the desk.

His fingers danced over a familar sequence of numbers on
the rotary dial and he impatiently sat through four telephone
rings before he finally heard a sleepy voice pick up. "Dix?
It's Kel." he began. "Talk to me."

He heard a tired groan on the other end of the line followed by
a tight cough and a rustling of blankets when McCall's gravelly
voice finally addressed him. "...hmm. Kel? For Pete's sake, what
time is it?"

"Time for your attending physician to get some answers pronto."
he said firmly. "Just what were you thinking when you sent the 
paramedics away following your little stunt nose diving into
your apartment complex's swimming pool?"

In a point assuredly in her favor in Dr. Brackett's book, Dixie
McCall immediately got angry. "Give me one good reason why
I shouldn't hang up on you right now, Kel Brackett. I was sleeping
soundly for the first time in..."

"Roy DeSoto. He was worried enough about you to let me know
what had happened to you in the Treatment Room after your neighbor
was brought in." Brackett fired back.

"That b*st*rd!" and there was a silence on the other end of the phone.
" Whatever happened to patient/paramedic confidentiality?! I didn't know
Johnny Gage was such an irritating example of a gossiping SOB!"

"Pipe down! He only did his job like any paramedic worth his salt 
should've done. He notified his attending medical director of a potential 
medical problem. The fact that he did it through his partner's a moot point 
and you know it."

Dixie quieted down, thinking of her unexpected rescue victim. "How's
Ger doing?" she asked, sitting up in bed, smothering up a wince so
it wouldn't be apparent vocally. 

The lamp turning on in her darkened bedroom did more than just stab into her eyes.
It brought on the mother of all headaches and a wave of unexpected 
deep nausea which the nurse fought down by putting a hand to her mouth.

She bore through Kel's ire bravely.

"I'll get to Gerald Miller as soon as I know that YOU'RE all right. If you
were symptomatic enough to red flag Roy and Johnny, you automatically 
red flag me. So again, I say, talk to me.." he said no nonsense.

Dixie sighed, pulling a waste can full of used tissue and half eaten cough
drops into her lap. "There isn't much to say, Kel. What's so unusual about
having a stomach virus?"

"When did that come on?"

"Yesterday morning at work."

"What are your symptoms and vital signs?"

"Oh come off it, Kel. Quit being a mother hen.  I'm not a hypochondriac
to take notes on every little incidence of the sniffles."

"Humor me."

"Kel....no." she spat tightly. "This is my day off, and it's gonna stay that way. 
We're not going to be getting together over dinner tonight. No police officer's
gonna stop by for more details on Ger's drowning. And no pesky off duty
paramedic is gonna come calling to my front door. Nada. End of story.
I know my rights as an ex-emergency medical patient."

"What about my rights as your closest friend? Does that matter any?
Forget about my white coat, Dix. That and my stethoscope are still
hanging up on the hat rack across the room!" he boomed.

McCall sighed, resting her head onto her bare knees. "I'm sorry, Kel.
I get cranky with colds. When I get them.." she bemoaned.

"Oh, so now you're telling me that you've got a cold and not a stomach
bug. Which is it?"

"I don't know.. and I don't care. All I want is twenty four hours uninterrupted
down time as is due me on my off day. Is that such an unreasonable request?
The fact that Ger Miller's accident interceded has absolutely no bearing on
the issue!"

"You're right, Dix. It doesn't." Kel agreed rapidly, toning down the frustration
in his voice. "And thank you for being there. He's gonna make it with flying
colors.."

"Paralysis?"

"None. His films are clear."

"Coma?"

"There're no signs. You guys were absolutely amazing with keeping him
one hundred percent oxygenated. Just be grateful to Brantigan and Grow for
Roy's military needle cric technique that he so kindly shared with me during
the last paramedics meeting. Miller's already been decannulated and 
there's no indication of any subglottic stenosis at all. Now enough about him."

"Kel, read my lips, or at least listen to them. Go away. I'm fine. I'll call
you after sundown in an update. Just keep Johnny and Roy outta my hair
tonight and I'll think about staying your best friend. Good night or good 
afternoon and good riddance!" and she slammed her elegant white and 
gold Victorian phone receiver down and cut off the connection.

Kel Brackett winced at the vigorous slam of noise into his ear. He
held the phone in his palm for a few seconds, half considering calling
Dixie back again. :: Do I have the right to bother her any more? She 
sounds like she knows what she's doing. And I'll get my second phone
call in five hours.:: he thought, looking at his watch.

McCall barely made it to the bathroom in time before vomiting and
suffering a bout of miserable diarrhea. "Oh, god I hate the flu bug.."
she groaned. Long minutes later, wet from the shower and naked,
Dixie crawled back into bed and pulled the covers over her head.

Making a decision, Dr. Brackett decided candor was the better part of 
valor and he dialed the number out to Station 51.

-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

"Los Angeles County Fire Department, this is Fireman Mike Stoker. 
Can I help you?" Mike glanced up, "Gage. It's for you. It's Brackett."

"It is?" he said, his mouth full of burger. "It's about time I heard from
him. Roy, did I ever tell you I love you for spilling the beans about Dix's
little fainting stunt to him?"

"No. But I think you can refrain from expressing yourself. Joanne
might get a little jealous." DeSoto quipped. 

Johnny jogged to the phone, dodging around all the gangs' shoulders
in his hurry to cut physical corners to reach the doctor. "Dr. Brackett?
Johnny Gage."

"Gage. I talked with her."

"And?"

"And...there's nothing more I can do at the moment. She's adamant about
refusing to see me or any other doctor for her illness."

"That's sheer craziness, doc." Johnny said, spitting out his mouthful of
burger into a napkin. "She's gotta be seen sometime. You weren't there.
I was. She was paler than anything once I rolled her face out of the
water."

"Did she breathe any of that in?"

"No. She woke up too fast for that."

"Did her BP stay bottomed out?"

"No. It got back up into the low hundreds."

"And that was sitting up, right?"

"Yeah, doc. Look. Now you know as much as I do. So 
bottom line. Are ya gonna do anything about her?"

"I can't. Not by law."

"I'm going over there."

"No you aren't. You'll only get hauled off for
trespassing. Dixie mentioned something to that effect."

Gage threw up his hands. "Wonderful. Now how are we gonna
have any guarantees that she's all right?"

"I sort of got one."

"How...?" Gage asked sarcastically.

"She's gonna call me at sundown with an update."

"Fair enough. I'll call off Roy, too, from going over there only so
long as we hear from you as soon as you hear from her."

"Consider that a promise."

"Thanks, doc."

"No problem. I'll hear from you next rescue call. I got 
the floor from lunch time through the rest of the night."

"Bye, Doctor Brackett. Talk to you then." 

Johnny hung up the phone.

He wandered back over to his chair and sat down,
ignoring the bowl of potato salad that Chet pushed over
to his end of the table to cheer him up.

Cap inquired finally. "So, how's she doing? Is she gonna
get checked out?"

"No."

Roy looked up from his lunch. "You're kidding."

"Wish I was, pally. Kel just made me promise that
you and I won't stop by over there in between calls."

"On the strength of what guarantee?!" Chet whined.

"On the fact that Dixie's promised to keep phone tabs with
him every couple of hours."

"And Kel Brackett bought that line of malarkey?" Cap
sighed sarcastically.

"Yep." Johnny said, balling up his napkin and tossing
it onto his plate in irritation.

Roy had some input. "You know, fellas, this could be a case of
personal feelings getting in the way. Those two did date once
you know. Maybe they're dating again. It could explain the doc's
lack of medical bulldog tenacity because it concerns someone
he truly cares about. He doesn't want to offend her."

"That's just stupid, Roy. If you were Dixie right now, being sick
and all, stepping on eggshells is the last thing I'd be doing
about you. I'd be busting down your door with a full med kit."
Johnny interjected loudly.

"I don't think it'll come to that." DeSoto grinned reasonably.
"After all, Dixie's a veteran registered nurse of twenty years.
She'd never let an illness go on untreated if it were truly serious."

"I'm still not comfortable." Gage said, narrowing his eyes.

"Neither am I." said Chet, fully in agreement. "I think we should
go around the both of them and let Joe Early in on this. No one
will be held accountable if he's the one who suddenly shows up
on Dixie's doorstep. He's gotta go over there tonight anyway."

"How so, Kelly?" Marco asked.

"To deliver a box of tickets for the Fireman's Annual Picnic
Event. Dixie's one of the primary sellers this year since Gage
didn't come forward and volunteer himself for it like he did
for last year's."

"Why should I have? I'm a rotten seller." Johnny defended.

"Ummm hmm, but you're too good a paramedic not to
meddle with a friend who might be in trouble and I'm too
good a fireman to let someone burn themselves unnecessarily.
I'm gonna go call Joe right now." he said, getting up. "Look, you
two have done your job, and so has Dr. Brackett. It's now my
turn to go to bat. Calling Joe'll only take a minute. Excuse me.
And Gage, if you touch my burger, you're dead meat.."
Chet warned as he dialed the phone without turning around.

The others laughed when Johnny snatched his creeping hand  
back into his lap.

Roy leaned over the table. "This sorta compromises the patient
paramedic confidentiality thing. You feel good about Chet
getting Dr. Early involved, Cap?"

"You bet your *ss I do. Somebody's gotta take a stand. Cause who's 
gonna watch out for Dixie's, if we don't?" Hank replied, biting into a 
potato chip. 

------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Photo:  Kel Brackett on the office phone.

Photo: Dixie in off duty clothes.

Photo:  Mike Stoker, answering the station phone.

Photo:  Chet Kelly in close up, serious.

Photo: Johnny stuffing his mouth with food while Hank watches.

Photo:  The gang eating lunch under a sunny kitchen window.

******************************************************************
From:  "Cory Anda" <andacory@hotmail.com> 
Date:  Wed Oct 13, 2004  4:17 am 
Subject:  The High Angle Woodie..


The dishes were just about done when the overhead speaker
mounted above the payphone in the kitchen, issued tones.

Errr! Uuhhhh! Eaggghh! ##Station 51, Truck 99. Unknown type 
rescue at the Colossus County Fair. 24500 Town Center Drive.
Cross street.. the Valencia exit of CA Interstate 5. 24500
Town Center Drive. Cross street,  the Valencia exit of
CA Interstate 5.  Park operators recommend arrival
to the West Gate. Time out 15:06. ##

The whole gang abandoned towels and newspapers and
left for the vehicle bay on the run. 

"So, whatdiya think, Cap? Another ferris wheel accident?"
Kelly shouted as he pulled on his turnout gear. "If it is,
that'll make it the fourth time this year."

"Hard to say, pal. L.A.'s details are sketchy. Or he
would've told us more. Sam can only go on what's reported." 
Hank said. Then he picked up the alcove mic. "Station 51, 
10-4. KMG 365."

Marco countered. "We've never gone here before, Chet.
I know that for sure. I remember because Mama lives
out near there. She can see the coasters from her front
porch." he said getting into the Ward.

"Ooo, yeah, gosh. Now I remember this place. Isn't that
the home of Colossus, the western United State's tallest  
roller coaster?" Mike Stoker asked.

Kelly nodded as the squad ahead of them pulled out to
lead the way. "Yep. I know that ride like the back of my hand.
The highest point on it is 125 feet. Its largest drop, of fourteen hills,
is 115 feet. The track's 4325 feet long with a maximum speed of
62 miles an hour with a rated G force of 3.2. Enough to make
you lose your lunch if you aren't prepared."

"You sure know a lot about that ride, Chet."

"When something scares the bejeesus out of you,
you remember everything about it, Marco. I took a date
there last month. I don't know who was more scared, me
or her." Kelly shouted over the sirens as the engine picked
up speed.

Cap had been listening and grinning like a feral cat.
"Who says this is a coaster incident?"

The radio barked into life. ##L.A., Station 51.##

Hank snatched up the microphone. "This is Station 51."

##Station 51. Civilians report an unconscious woman. With additional
information. Your situation has been outlined as a high angle rescue 
on a wooden structure. No mechanical failure or fire is involved.##

"10-4, L.A. Station 51's ETA is nine minutes."

##Station 51.##

"Oh boy." Chet gulped. 

"What?" Marco asked.

"That's where we're headed, guys."

"To where?" Stoker asked, hitting the air horn 
to scatter a particularly stubborn motorist putzing in front
of the light blazing fire engine.

"To Colossus. She's their brand new coaster. Opened
last June. Solid wood, man. She's the only ride in the 
park made of it."

##So, out goes another ferris wheel extrication and
in comes a problem with real sphincter value.## quipped
Gage to Roy, who had been listening on live cab to cab
band. ##Outta sight.##

All the firemen laughed, easing tensions.

Hank barked out authority. "Ok, you clowns, pipe
down. Chet, what else can you tell me about this
Colossus ride."

"Well, she's got an up to four person capacity to each 
passenger car, with six cars per train. "

"Twenty four people, huh? I wonder if I should request
additional help?" Hank scratched his chin around
his helmet's strap as he bounced around in his seat.

##Let's wait until we get there. ## Roy suggested. ##We'll
get a better picture of it all once we've talked to somebody.##
he said over the radio mic.

"Oh, yeah, six trains are always running at any one time."
Chet added, licking his lips.

"Not now they aren't. Not if that woman was spotted out
cold as a rider." Cap interjected. "That coaster operator must 
be smart. He's realized that bringing her train down would  
only increase risk of injury. She can't guard against 
hard knocks or jolts to her head and neck anymore."

Johnny Gage finished the thought. ##...so he left the train
in a semi level area and called for help.##

"Most likely on top of one of those hills Chet mentioned."
theorized Marco.

"And into that high angle rescue profile L.A. told us
about."

"125 feet... Do we have rappelling gear enough to handle that
height?" Stoker asked.

"What we don't have, we can grab from Truck 99. They are
strictly a rescue rig." Hank resolved.

"So that's it, then." Chet said. "We're set."

## I sure hope so. ## replied Gage. ## For the victim's
sake. ##

----------------------------------------------------------------------

Photo:  The gang doing dishes and cooking.

Photo: The Ward roaring down the freeway.

Photo:  Cap on the radio mic.

Photo: Roy, and Johnny on the mic, in the squad.

Photo: The Colossus coaster in a panorama.

************************************************************
From:  "wone3" <jwilds@prodigy.net> 
Date:  Wed Oct 13, 2004  10:38 pm 
Subject:  Joe's Visit

Meanwhile across town, and oblivious to all of the excitement that had
gone on that day, Joe Early was enjoying his day off. He was spending
it mostly out of the house and therefore he missed Chet's urgent phone
call. He had the boring, home maintenance chores to do, like paying
the bills and mailing the checks and weeding and mowing touch ups;
but he also had some fun things to do, too.

He had stopped off at the bookstore to get a book from his favorite
author that he knew had just come out and he was coveting. Instead of
just running in for it, he spent like two hours exploring the store and
looking at other books and he bought a few more besides the one he 
was looking for.

He also stopped off at his favorite liquor store and had gotten
several bottles of wine, including a few of Dixie's favorites. He was
planning on stopping by her place on the way home to give her a
bottle of it as a thank you for a few things she'd done for him in
the past few weeks. He was just about finished with his errands.
So he headed for his next-to-last stop, at Dixie's place. He left his 
last stop next, to be the grocery store, because he wasn't sure how 
long he'd be staying at Dixie's.

------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

He arrived shortly in her parking lot and stopped his car. He grabbed
the small bag that held the single bottle of wine and the box of tickets 
that he'd promised Chet that he'd deliver, and Joe walked to her front door. 

He knocked on the door pretty loudly the first time, not announcing 
himself. He was surprised when Dixie hadn't heard him. He
tried a second and after a few minutes, later, a third time.  And each
time, Dixie didn't answer the door. Joe tried the door one more time
and still, he didn't get an answer. 

Joe grew a bit concerned, since he knew that it was her day off, too, 
and he that knew she'd planned on doing nothing but relaxing at her place.

------------------------------------------------------------------------

Inside, Dixie was shivering, though her forehead, if it were touched,
felt like it was burning up, under the covers of her bed. She thought 
she'd heard the door but she chose to ignore it, knowing that
none of her friends would be showing up after the warning she'd
passed onto Kel Brackett. 

She heard the second knock and opened her eyes. 

Her nasty headache was still with her, and as she started to sit
up, a massive wave of nausea hit her. She managed to get to the
bathroom and vomited for a few seconds as it turned into dry heaves.

She hadn't eaten anything since breakfast. She hadn't felt like it.
That had come up earlier. 

She heard the door the third time and cleaned up in a hurry. 

She was going to yell at either Johnny and Roy or Kel for coming over 
even after she'd stated her demands to Kel. She started to open the 
door, wincing a bit from the pain that was still with her.

----------------------------------------------------------------------------------
Long ago, Dixie had entrusted Joe and Kelly Brackett with a spare key 
to her front door to be used in case of need only situations. Joe was still
digging for it, just as Dixie angrily opened the door.

Joe said, "Hi Dix.  Sorry to surprise you like this. Did you just get
up?" as he took in her appearance. He noticed her sunken, dark, but
glassed over eyes, her pale ashen skin that looked like it had a wet
sheen to it and the red nose of being sick. :: She must have caught
something quickly:: he thought. He knew she hadn't looked like this
yesterday during work.

Noting the surprise in Joe's face, she reasoned that he was here of
his own free will, and not because he was asked by two busy body
paramedics and one mule headed doctor. Dixie let her guard down
significantly, but not completely, as she answered him. "Hi Joe, this
is a surprise to see you. What's up?"

Joe answered, "I stopped by to drop a few things off. Chet asked me
to drop this box of tickets for the fireman's annual picnic. He told
me that you were doing them a favor by selling them. I also wanted to
drop off a thank you gift for the things that you helped me out doing
the past couple of weeks." he said as he held up the bag. "Are you 
feeling OK? I won't stay long since you look like you are absolutely 
miserable." 

He'd seen her hiding a bit of a wince as she'd opened the 
door but he didn't feel entirely right about pressing the issue with her. 

While Kel Brackett was the type to play hardnosed with Dixie, Joe 
treated her with 'kid gloves' and respected her to have some 
knowledge as to when she needed medical attention.

Dixie answered him, "Thank you for dropping the tickets off. I did
promise the guys that I'd help them out. Also, thank you for the gift.
You didn't need to do it, Joe. I was very happy helping you out. Also
you are right, I feel miserable from this flu bug. I have been
sleeping for a bit, and I probably should go back and catch a bit more
sleep. Otherwise, I AM fine and I just wish to be left alone." 
She said that last bit, with a touch of defensiveness, as she knew Joe 
would want to examine her further if he felt any doubts.

Joe took his cue from Dixie. He knew that while he wasn't happy with
what he saw, he shouldn't press the issue with her. He told Dixie
that he'd see her later. He also asked her, if the symptoms got worse
or didn't dissipate soon, to please call one of her friends, either
Kel, Roy or Johnny if she didn't feel she could drive in to the hospital, 
or himself. 

Dixie reassured him that if that was the case, she'd make the call. 
And she stressed that she didn't feel like it was needed right now.

Joe then took his leave as Dixie gently shut the door. 

She headed for her bathroom as the nausea returned. As soon as it 
dissipated, she grabbed two more aspirin, hoping they'd stay down 
and rid her of her headache, and headed back for her bed.

---------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
Joe decided not to stop at the store right away, instead he headed
straight home to place a call to Kel and see if he knew what was
going on with Dixie. He had Kel paged and waited somewhat 
impatiently as Kel got on the line.

"What's up Joe?" Kel asked.

Joe answered him, "Have you talked to Dixie recently today?"

Kel told him that he had especially after a call the crew from
station 51 had been on. Kel then went through the details of the day
including Dixie's "nosedive" into the pool, the deal he had made with
her, and his conversations with Johnny and Roy about what they saw.

Joe said, " You might want to rethink it. She looks like h*ll. I bet
she's worse than when Johnny saw her last. Someone needs to push her
to get medical attention though she won't do it unless she feels like
she needs to." Joe then went into detail about everything he
observed. He told Kel about how she looked and the wince that she
tried to hide from him as she opened the door.

Kel said, "You know how she is when she's in that stubborn, no-
nonsense mood. We aren't going to get her to change her mind. We need
to think about this and figure a way to get her to realize that she needs
help worse than she thinks right now."

They both stayed on the phone for a few minutes thinking, but soon
Kel was getting called for a case. They agreed to continue thinking
on their own and to call each other once they had a potential plan.

Then they both hung up.
--------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Photos: None.

************************************************************************
From :  Sam Iam <lafddispatcher@yahoo.com> 
Sent :  Tuesday, October 19, 2004 10:56 PM 
Subject :  [EmergencyTheaterLive] The Domino Effect 


Cap stepped out of Engine 51's cab even before
it rolled to a halt. The two fire department vehicles were
flanking the massive back turn of the roller coaster's structure
next to the towering white bulk of the ride's main wooden 
track.

They had followed an amusement utilities department vehicle 
to get there.

##L.A., Station 51's on scene. ## Stoker said into the 
engine's radio mic.

## Station 51. Time out. 15:22. ## L.A. replied.

##Truck 99, break out your rappelling gear. Looks like
we're gonna need it.## Hank Stanley requested on his
hand held.

All the gang bunched together in between the squad and
engine and looked up.

The Colossus's rails were silent, and two of its six red and yellow roller 
coaster trains hung eerily suspended and stationary, on the 
tops of the two highest hills. It seemed glaringly unnatural in
the middle of all the normal crowd noises and amusement park 
cacaphony.

Cap pulled off his working gloves. "Looks like that's our
target up here. The nearest one's people are waving us down.
Marco, go find the ride operator. Tell him to make sure the
emergency stop is fully activated. And tell him I wanna track
walker, double checking the manual braking bandit arms on
both of these coasters, ASAP. Radio if you learn any medical
details."

"Right, Cap." and Lopez jogged off towards the ride's primary
colored, circus themed entrance.

Hank turned, "Ok, the rest of you. Johnny, Roy, head on up.
Best way you can. I'm sure there's an open gate around
here somewhere."

DeSoto was studying something intently. "Cap, I think
I spotted her. She's in the front right side car. She's not
moving at all."

Hank shielded his eyes from the mid afternoon sun's rays
and peered in the direction Roy was pointing. "Man, they're
really high up there. Climbing's gonna take way too long, guys."

"What other choice do we have?" Roy asked, tightening his 
chin strap and putting on a life belt.

Johnny Gage spun a circle in place, looking at their 
surroundings. He stopped suddenly with a jerk of discovery.
"Cap, what about using that Sky Ride? Those gondolas are
running right by the trapped train we need to get to."

Hank turned and considered the viability and safety of
Johnny's suggestion. Then he nodded, "You know the
Park Director isn't gonna like having two rides shut down
at the same time."

Gage sniffed, "He'll live with it." he said dryly.

"That he will." said Cap. He lifted his HT. "Marco, 
we need the Sky Ride's operator over here pronto.
I don't care how you do it. But find him. We're commandeering
a gondola for a rope launch and tandem rig over to the 
roller coaster."

##That might take a few minutes, Cap. ##

"That's good enough 'cause the alternative is us taking 
twenty minutes going it on foot."

Johnny Gage already had the stokes out and he
and Roy were loading it up with gear.  He didn't
stop looking up at the unconscious woman six stories
over their heads. One of her arms was dangling over
the side of the coaster car and he thought he could
see it swaying slowly back and forth. "She's still
breathing. Her arm's moving and there's no wind."

Roy and Cap nodded. "Let's hope so. Our delay's
already been too long." Hank said with conviction.

The Sky Ride address system suddenly gave an 
announcement via its music speakers about the rescue
operation to come that would require a halt in all the gondolas.
No one complained. And all heads that were already turned
towards the fire departments' flashing trucks nodded
encouragingly without any protest.

A shrill whistle got their attention. Cap and the others
not gathering up rope coils and pulleys cast about for
the source of the sound.

"Hey, firemen! Up here!" It was the Sky Ride operator.
He had a white painted gondola halted on the roof of
a nearby shed. "I got this one set for ya. No people!"
the gray haired Swedish accented park worker shouted.

"Mister, we'll be right up there." Cap said through the 
bullhorn. "How much weight can one gondola carry?"

"Your whole g*dd*mned fire truck if it had to. And I'm not
talking about the little flashing red one. This ride is
top quality Swiss craftsmanship. She's not from some 
cheap American made, one of a kind, assembly line."

Hank and the others grinned. "No insult intended, sir.
Just looking out for safety measures!" Cap gestured.

Chet Kelly got a small house ladder from
the side of the Ward and jogged it over to the small
shed under the eucalyptus trees. Roy and Johnny
got into the gondola with the operator and took
the rope gun launcher and plenty of rope inside
with them before they moved off on the restarted 
ride.

"You help her young fellas! She looks bad.." said
a granny from a nearby red gondola as it
passed the white one the two paramedics were in.

"We will ma'am." Roy said, tipping his helmet. "As
fast as we can."

Then the two gondolas separated too far for
hearing or talking. 

Gage and Roy kept their eyes rivetted on the woman
as the Sky Ride operator took them up higher
and higher towards the roller coaster track's far
turn hill, the one the unlucky train was on. Roy finally
got a closer view. "Yep. She's breathin. But something's
not right beyond her being passed out. She's awfully 
flushed for the temperature out here today. It's not that hot."

"Oh, yeah?" Gage said, ducking his helmet down to see 
around the roof's edge of the gondola. "What do you
think the problem is, Roy?"

"I don't know. When we get closer, we can ask the other 
riders."

"Good idea." Johnny said, putting on his lifebelt.

Right then, there was a snap when the emergency 
trackwalk worker, on a loop two hundred yards farther up
the ride, leaned in on the second coaster train while telling 
its passengers what the hold up was.

He fell onto his face when the coaster suddenly jerked
into motion because of a downward slope and gravity.

The worker went running desperately, trying to catch up to 
the slowly speeding up train to flick a brake switch and
bring it to a halt again. But the coaster was too fast.
 
"Roy! We've got a runaway!" Gage said, pointing,
his voice growing tense and rising into a higher register.
"I don't think that track walker's gonna make it to the
next junction in time to throw the brake before it 
gets away from him!"

The Swede gave his control bar a kick and all
the Sky gondolas jerked and picked up speed.

Gage gritted his teeth, helpless. He watched, as the 
horrified passengers on the out of control line of cars,
suddenly discovered, that they were barrelling down on 
the other stalled coaster. They started to scream in panic.

"We can do it ourselves if we get over there!" Johnny
shouted.

"We're not gonna make it in time!" Roy shouted.
"We're rising too slowly!"

----------------------------------------------------------------

Photo:   A gondola sky ride, passing overhead.

Photo:  A sky rider operator, waving.

Photo:  A roller coaster on a track, out of control.

Photo:  Roy looking up apprehensively.

*******************************************************
Date: Wed, 20 Oct 2004 04:34:24 -0700 (PDT) 
From: "Jeff Seltun" <finiterider@yahoo.com>   
Subject:  Outside Aid.. 


A zooming roar filled their ears, making Roy and Johnny
wince and duck.  A raucous voice filled their HTs full
volume. ## Chopper 19, HT 51. Halt your cable ride. Pilot
is soft touching onto the tracks. We have a ride operator
on board!##

The Swede peeked over the edge of the fireman's
gondola, still covering his ears. "Holy mother of..
Vat is dat?!"

Gage grinned from ear to ear. "That... is a Firehawk H-60!
You better do as the man says." he told the frightened 
sky ride operator."You ok?" he asked, setting a hand
on the old man's shoulder.

"Ya. Are dos tings always so loud?" he chirped, bringing
the gondolas to a gentle stop. He was still gripping his
chest.

"Yep." Roy said, smiling huge. Then he turned to Johnny. 
"I wonder who brainstormed up the chopper idea? That's 
gonna make all the difference in the world."

"And I wonder if those braking things can stop a train going 
full tilt?" Gage asked.

"We're gonna find out." Roy replied, watching the yellow,
black and white Firehawk gingerly maneuver itself sideways
towards the crest of the hilled rails near the coaster train holding 
the distressed woman.  The Los Angeles County craft barely
got one rung on a strut on top of a maintenance hut jutting
out from the coaster course, when the sliding side door
opened.  A young man wearing a white cloth visor in
a maroon, navy and white polo leaped out of the hovering
helicopter into a crouch. He put his head between his
knees and waited for the powerful bird to pull away.

Then he got up and ran to a ladder that led to
the main track below. All the while the youngish man kept
his eye on the second train bearing down on them. He didn't
go to a brake along the rails, he went to a special one
on a platform sheltered by a hut at the top of a bend just 
before a steep dip and fall of the rails.

He quickly powered up a console and ansted until all
lights were green. Then he grabbed a long ratchet arm
controlling rod attached to wires beneath the track and
threw it backwards like a bandit's as soon as the train
passed by a lighted yellow beacon.

All the firemen watched the runaway lurch, jerking the 
riders heads forward as the emergency brakes below
the wheels of their train bit down on the steel rails. Sharp
sparks flew from the coaster's underside as all the
pads on the cars strained to stop the train. But it was
still coming fast, full of kinetic energy left over from
a large hill it had gone down.

The coaster man threw the bandit controller back one
more time. Again, the sparks beneath the flying train 
arched out in a noisy squeal of metal on metal.  The riders 
heads jolted even harder despite the bracing of many locked
arms on the padded bars in front of them. A chorus of frightened
cries burst out from the coaster's people at the second jerk.

Then the roller cars hit an uphill and reverse inertia began to
work. The sparks trails shooting out lessened as the train
started to finally slow down below sixty miles an hour.

One hundred yards, ninety yards, eighty....

The distance gap between the two coasters was still
narrowing dangerously.

"Come on,...come on... " mumbled Johnny through 
gritting teeth. "Come to a stop..."

The swede next to him got into the moment and shouted,
too. "Put some muscle into it, Ivan, or I'm not worth the
time and energy I put into trainin ya!"

Roy looked away from the dramatic spectacle despite of
himself, "Who's Ivan?"

"He is!" declared the Sky Ride operator at the brave teenager
braking the runaway. "My first born son. If anyone gets hurt up
there, it'll just tear him apart. He's got the best safety record
of all of them. His riders have gotten nothing worse than a
bruise or two for trying to stand up on all the dropoffs. Ivan!
Do you hear me?!" he roared.

The young man seemed to. He opened terrified eyes below
a sweat beaded forehead and glanced at his father's gondola
very quickly. Then he threw his whole body onto the brake.

The runaway protested, screeching chalkboard sounds as
it went by the teenager at nearly forty miles an hour.

Twenty. Ten. Seven yards. Six...

"no....." grunted the teenager through slitted eyes. "You're
still too fast..." he said, leaning on the control bar. His
back was nearly level onto the track and his arms
knotted and shook with the effort. "Slow down!"

Five yards. Four. Then... bang!  An emergency crash stop
flew up from the  track in between the two roller coasters
as the runaway finally reached a critical twenty miles an
hour.  The train slammed into the short barrier in a sudden 
stop three feet before it collided with the unconscious woman's 
train. 

So did the riders, into their shoulder bars. The force knocked 
some of them out and their heads hung limply in between the 
padded bars and a few hands fell limp.

"Good boy, Ivan!" shouted the Swede across the sixty
feet of air separating them. "You did it.

Roy and Johnny winced in sympathy, immediately assessing
them visually. "Ouch.." DeSoto. "That had to hurt."

"Yeah, but they didn't pancake. Count your blessings, partner.
Getting the wind knocked out of ya is better than dying. Okay, 
sir. Let's go! Let's go!" Johnny urged.

"You don have to tell me twice.." said the Swede and once
again the Sky Ride gondolas began their ascent to Colossus.

Roy lifted his HT. "HT 51, to Chopper 19. It worked. Thanks
for your assistance."

##Anytime, 51. We're touching down in the north parking lot
for your injured to come. Standing by, running hot.##

"10-4, Chopper 19. 51 out." DeSoto said, breathing heavily.

The firemen's white gondola reached its highest point and
Roy and Johnny got to work. They shouted instructions over
to Ivan to protect himself while they fired the head of
the rope launcher over to the coaster platform and how
and what to tie off the heavier corded rope onto. Thankfully,
Ivan was a farmhand and got a handle quickly on the knot
tying directions.

"You go first." Roy said. "I'll string the stokes between us."

"All right." said Johnny.

Beyond them, Ivan quickly got to his feet again after locking 
down the electrical emergency braking panel and he ran out
to the trains with a fire extinguisher just in case friction
had set any wood aflame.

Gage attached his belt hook and feed line to the aerial
Ivan had tied off after testing it thoroughly. The Swede
threw open the gondola's door. "Be careful, fireman.
That's six stories to fall if you aren't."

"Believe me, I'm well aware of that. My partner and I
work in places as high as this all the time."

And with that, Johnny stepped off into air, letting go
of the warm metal of the sky gondola.

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

Photo:  An H-60 Firehawk Helicopter in the air.

Photo:  A roller coaster operator.

Photo:  Stunned people sitting in a roller coaster.

Photo:  A man hitched to a rappelling harness.

Photo:  A rappeller inching down an aerial rope bridge.

************************************************************
From :  Roxy Dee <laterrapincabesa@hotmail.com> 
Sent :  Thursday, October 21, 2004 3:47 AM 
Subject :  The Angry Cloud~~ 


Johnny Gage grabbed the stokes and jerked it along
the pulley line behind him. "So, how are we
gonna manage this? You take one coaster, and
I take the other?"

Roy DeSoto grunted a reply, pulling himself along the 
horizontal rope tethered between the sky ride gondola
and the Colossus' hilltop track structure. "Yeah, that's
the way I figure."

Another helicopter appeared from the direction of the
parking lot. Gage could see four heads inside its 
windows. "Looks like we won't be alone for long. Cap's
thrown some men in a second chopper." He pulled
out his walkie talkie from his pocket. "HT 51, Chopper 11.
What kind of gear and personnel do ya have on board?" Gage 
shouted into the radio to be heard over the sound of spinning 
rotors.

## Three spinal immobilization boards, six stokes, the full
contents of your rescue squad's medical and trauma store
and four firefighters. L.A. reports another fire department rescue
squad has been dispatched to our location.## answered the
pilot on the headset patched into Johnny's frequency.

"Good deal. Good deal. Tell the guys we want the drug box
and airway gear out first!" Johnny said as he continued to
pull himself one handed along the line.

## I copy, 51. Relaying your message.##

"I'll keep touch with ya on HT, Roy." Gage said, out distancing
the more methodical paramedic on the horizontal rappelling line.

Johnny began to hurry even more when he saw a frantic panic
start on the first coaster. "Hey, just calm down over there! 
Tell me what's happening!" he shouted over to them.

No one even tried to answer him and five people from the 
woman's train suddenly lost it and wormed their way out of 
their seats.

Ivan noticed from his vantage point. "No! Stay put! It's
not safe to walk on anything but the center boardway!"
And he began running, to intercept them.

He ran smack into the center of a pack of bees.
"AhhhHHHh!"  And he, too, started to swipe and slap
himself, trying to get them off.

"What the h*ll?!" Johnny mumbled as he completed
tranversing the distance to the rails. He unhooked himself
and immediately took action. He turned back towards his
partner. "Roy!  Yellow jackets! A whole swarm of them!"

And he ran over to where Ivan was flailing. Gage picked up
the fire extinguisher that the young teen had dropped and
used it on him to freeze the bees off of his body. He did
the same for anyone under attack.  Then he set the red 
cylinder aside, upright for Roy to find when he caught up to 
him.   "Ma'am..?" he asked the original dark skinned unconscious
girl as he shook her. "Can you hear me?" He bent quickly
to listen to her breathing while he got a grip on her carotid.
The woman had one, but it was thready. And there was
a new symptom beyond the flushing he had noticed
earlier. Swelling and bumps were erupting on her face,
neck and upper arms and signs of blood bright urticaria. 
"Anaphylaxis!"  

Johnny positioned the girl's head so she had the best airway 
he could manage on her and then he got on the HT, wide band. 
"I've got a full blown allergic reaction on Victim One, Train One. 
I need a drug box and a clear access to Rampart, right now.."

## Establishing the link, 51. ## said Chopper 11's pilot.
## Fire personnel are en route to you with a biophone
and your drug box from the east track. ##

"10-4.." Gage said, glancing up quickly for their progress
and Roy's, looking away from the sun.

The older lady next to the girl began to calm down from
the fright she took from the bees. "Ohmyg*d. They came 
back..." she gasped.

Johnny immediately took notice. "What do ya mean they
came back?" he asked the rider next to his top priority
patient.

"The bees... Our coaster passed by a nest back there.
We all saw it. They were so angry. They must be worked
up because of all the trains rumbling by them every couple
of minutes. We passed through a cloud of them and they
started stinging us. Then this woman here suddenly gave
a shout... I couldn't understand her.. it was Pali or something
from India, and then she slumped over."

"You mean she passed out right after the bees got to
you the first time?" Gage asked.

"Yes. Almost right away.." the lady nodded shakily.

Gage lifted his head. "My name's John Gage and
I'm a paramedic with the Los Angeles County Fire
Department. Now there's a whole buncha firefighters
coming and we'll get you all down from here just
as soon as we can." Then he told the coaster operator
he had helped out. "Hold this woman's head, just like that. 
I'm gonna be letting go so take over. Keep tabs on her 
breathing. I'm gonna talk with these other folks to see if anyone 
else is allergic to bee stings. I'll be right back with ya in less 
than a minute.."

He jogged to a central point along the train's length
and yelled, "Is there anybody who's sensitive to
insect bites or stings here who's gotten stung?"
 
None of other fifteen people on his train spoke up.

"How's she doing mister?" said one man with 
three bee stings around his eyes.

"She's alive and help's coming fast. You can stay 
standing there but don't go too far from the train." Johnny
said. Then he ran back to the roller coaster operator,
while he got out his radio to deliver a casualty number report 
to Cap waiting below once he got some initial info from Roy.
 
He read the young teenager's name tag. "Ivan. Is she still 
breathing ok?" he said working down the line of people 
to give them the same orienting speech. "Go ahead and listen
to her chest if you have to. I'm wondering about any
funny noises, like wheezing, or any signs of choking.."

Ivan listened. "I hear whistling Mr. Gage. Is her
throat swelling up?"

"I won't lie to you, Ivan. And I don't wanna scare you. 
Yes, it is. But it's very important for you to not panic. I need
you to tell me the first second her gums or nail beds lose color
and start to turn blue. That'll happen if she begins to quit trying 
to breathe on us. She'll get a shot that'll fix all of that, in less 
than a minute, once the others get here. Just keep calm
and keep close tabs."

The trembling ride operator nodded animatedly,
unable to speak. He was still coming down from his 
adrenaline peak that had surged through him while he was 
desperately braking the second train. He adequately
managed the black haired girl's airway despite his shakes.

DeSoto had already started his quick checks of
the motionless people on the second coaster. He had two.
And four others in his train who were in varying degrees of 
wakefulness.

"Roy! Whatcha got?" Gage shouted.. 

Roy started his list of severity in worst order first.
"Two in the front car are out cold, good airways. Possible 
coup contra coup on both. I got unequal pupils with blood 
out the nostrils. Pulse and breathing are slowing on one
of them. Two cars back, a forty year old female has some 
dyspnea and is reactant to pain. Broken left collar bone. Her 
abdomen's also distended. The other three in the back are 
uninjured or just minor. " Roy said eyeing up the last few visually 
as they regained their bearings and started asking him questions.

He vaguely wondered what physics had come to bear to
save those farther back from getting as hurt as those in front. 
And a mental ghost of an answer touched on the idea that
the hitches between the cars had shock absorbed the impact
energy successively. 

"I'm leaving all six of them in their seats. The cushioned shoulder
bars are doing a good job of keeping them immobilized. And 
it'll be easier to treat them this way, too, until we can get em 
out of here." DeSoto concluded.

Johnny pressed his talk button. "Cap? We've got seven
victims! Including the original woman."

##Affirmative. Turning back three ambulances and
keeping one. ##

"Johnny?!" came Chet Kelly's voice. "I got the drug box."
he puffed, gingerly tire stepping over the wooden slates
and air spaces. "Rampart's on channel two on relay from
Copter 11. And Stoker's right behind me with the
O2 and airway kit. Marco's got the IV box. Loaded
with Ringers."

"Great. Let me see the drug kit." and he took the handle 
from the firefighter. "Here, change the radio over for me and 
get a doc on the line. I'm grabbing her epi."
Gage tossed open the lid of the black box and snatched
out a prefilled white papered syringe and tore it open
with his teeth.  "Ivan?"

"She's still doing it." said the teenager, still carefully
holding the woman's swelling head back over the
seat pillow. "But I think she's breathing worse.
It's definitely faster. Around 22 times a minute."

"Ok. Just hang on. I've only gotta get a say so
from a doctor. Then it's instant solution time.." he said,
holding up his needle covered epinephrine syringe.

A man from Truck 99 came with the three light wood
backboards and three C-collars. The helicopter pilot 
and his crewman were busy hovering a distance
away, lowering a half hitch on a safety with the six stokes
sandwiched and bundled together on a fall line.

Mike Stoker jogged in and knelt by Johnny, only long 
enough to slip in an oral airway on the unconscious bee 
stung girl of Gage's along with a high flow oxygen mask before 
he ran to Roy's side to set up the rest of the three tanks of 02
that he carried with him.

Johnny cursed under his breath after Chet had given
a hail to the base station in Torrence twice. "Come on,
doc. Get the lead out."

----------------------------------------------------------

Gif :        *animated* A restless yellow jacket bee.

Photo:    Roy and Johnny working on someone
               in a stokes.

**************************************************
From :  patti keiper <pattik1@hotmail.com> 
Sent :  Tuesday, October 26, 2004 7:34 PM 
Subject :  [EmergencyTheaterLive] Cupid....Draw Back Your Bow.... 

Johnny Gage elicited Marco's help. "Lopez. Grab
her legs. I wanna get her to the ground now. And
stick around. She may need some help with breathing
by demand valve. I'm gonna have epi going in as soon
as Chet gets Rampart notified."

Marco nodded, and he carefully took the slight woman's
shoulders, and together, paramedic and firefighter lowered
the allergic reacted young woman to a flat area in between
the roller coaster's tracks. Lopez automatically took
the woman's head and checked her status. "Thanks."
he said to Ivan, the ride operator. "I got it from here.
Why don't you go over to my coworker and see if he
needs any help waking those other people. His name's
Roy."

"O-Over there? uh, ok.." said Ivan. "Mister, is she gonna die?"

"No.." said Johnny with conviction up at the teenager.
"We caught her early enough. This med will turn her around
quickly and we'll avoid any chance of cardiac arrest." he said,
putting the unused epinephrine syringe on the girl's stomach while
he grabbed out the Normal Saline I.V. components he'd need for
maintaining her hemodynamic stability.

Ivan offered a weak smile before he jogged over to the impacted
roller coaster.

"Chet? Anyone on the line yet?" Angrily, Johnny pulled off a bee
that was still stinging the Khmer girl with his bare fingers. Then he
hastily got a set of vital signs on his patient after cutting her shirt
open down to her elastic tube top with the shears from his holster.

Chet shook his head. Then he shouted a little louder into
the biophone's black receiver. "Rampart, this is HT 51." said Kelly
into the biophone for a third time. "Do you read?!"

Marco gave Johnny some information. "Her airway's
still clear from what I can feel, Johnny." he said triggering the
thumb pad on the positive pressure O2 mask that he had
pressed over her nose and mouth. "Respiration's thirty,
irregular and shallow."

"Keep up supporting her inhalations. That's too fast a rate to do
any good." Gage ordered Marco.

The helmeted firefighter nodded, licking dry lips.

Finally, Dr. Brackett's welcome voice toggled into the frequency.
##Go ahead, 51.##

Johnny waggled gimme fingers at Chet for the phone. He got it.
"Doc, analyphalaxis. Small female early twenties. From multiple
bee stings." he said rapidly.

Kel immediately understood the need for haste. ## 0.3 mg of
epinephrine 1:1000 solution sub Q. Then a large bore IV Normal
Saline wide open for follow up boluses of epi 1/10,000 for a minute.
Stat.##

Johnny dropped the phone and snatched up the syringe, delivering
the badly needed adrenaline into the soft tissue of the girl's abdomen.
He continued to listen to Dr. Brackett's orders issuing from the phone
receiver by his feet while he established a very fast I.V. from the set up
and bag that was hanging from his teeth.

##If she's non reactant to pain, go ahead and insert an esophageal
airway. Especially if she hasn't turned around after a minute or so. Give
me a set of vitals when you can.##

Kelly anticipated and picked up Johnny's notepad from on top of the biophone
lid. He also propped up the girl's limp blue jeaned legs onto a gear box to
offset the increasing signs of hypotension he saw developing in her.
"Rampart, vital signs are: Blood pressure, 70/48. Pulse is 140. Respirations
are ..." he paused, setting a hand on the woman's stomach for a count...
"..30 and irregular. She is under active ventilations on 100 % O2 at twelve
times a minute." reported Chet.

##Standing by, 51..## answered Brackett.

Johnny handed off the running I.V. to the girl's seat passenger to hold and
he crouched over her chest to listen to her breath sounds around Marco's
hands. He froze there, waiting for the slight sounds of stridor and wheezing
to go away, listening intently with his head lowered, through a stethoscope.

They finally did after fifteen very slow seconds.

Johnny Gage smiled. "Rampart, Squad 51. Her dyspnea's actively
easing and there's no signs of laryngo or bronchial spasms forming."

Dr. Brackett let out a long sigh of relief and he straightened up out
of a worried two palmed lean on the base station's counter.
##All right, Johnny. Guess we're gonna get lucky. Belay that EOA
and send in a strip as soon as possible. Start an aminophylline
push,.....5 mg i/v then .5 mgs on a slow drip. I want to prevent a
biphasic reaction even before it happens and I wanna lock out
any refractory bronchospasms permanently for this exposure.

If you feel you need to give her another covering dose of epinephrine
as a bolus, make it 1/10,000 at .5 mg intravenously every ten minutes
as necessary. Also, if pulmonary edema shows up or any multilocal
ventricular tachycardia, have 2 mgs propranol IV standing by.
Remember if arrythmias develop, subsidence of the ventricular
effects may be followed by atrial tachycardia and atrioventricular
blocks. So watch for that transient bradycardia as a secondary
epinephrine overdose earmark. Don't be afraid of it. Preserving
her airway and ending any adverse vasoeffects are paramount
in this stage of the game.##

"10-4, Rampart. Stand by for an EKG on Lead Two."
Gage replied.

He pulled over the blue Tetronix monitor and opened it.
Then he wiped down sweaty places on the woman's
shoulders and ribs skin with her own shirt before attaching four of its 
electrode pads. He deftly snapped on their sensor wires. Gage 
plugged the EKG in to the biophone and adjusted a dial in the 
red case to a good send frequency for their apparent altitude 
above ground. "Rampart, transmitting now." he said to Brackett.

Dr. Brackett read his feeding cardiac strip. ##So far
so good, 51. Give me a second vitals set after you've
delivered your I.V. meds and transport as soon as possible.##

"10-4. We'll be bringing her in by chopper. ETA's approximately
ten to fifteen minutes, doc."

##Understood. I'll consider myself on hold for any preflight info.##

Under Marco's hands, the woman coughed and the fingers of
both her hands, resting on the hot sun lit railwood slats, twitched.

Johnny immediately bent close and pulled out the short
oral airway in her mouth before she could gag on it. "Heyyy.. How 
are you doing? Can you hear me yet? What's your name?"

The girl sputtered, shoving away the O2 mask vaguely, moaning.
"....hhghhh.  Can't....br--"

"Marco, raise her up..." Gage told him. Lopez did so, leaning
the girl's weight against his chest. He switched out Marco's hand
held ventilator for an elastic banded simple clear mask. "Is
that better, hon?" Johnny asked her. "What's your name?"
he repeated.

"...*gasp* Lathika.." she whispered. "...oh, those horrible..
*cough* things. My father said they could kill...me..." she
sobbed softly, with a heavy India accent. Some wetness 
ran out of both her eyes. Sweat and tears. 

"Yeah? Well, this time they didn't." Marco smiled. "Just relax,
Lathika. You've been given some medication that's ending
your allergy attack. You'll feel better soon. The swelling's already
going down on your face and neck."

"Is....he right?"...Lathika asked Johnny. "I still can't open
my eyes all the way."

"Absolutely.. Now don't move around too much. I got an
I.V. started in your arm."

Startled and still very shaky, the girl looked down. "Oh!"

"Shhh, it's ok. It's ok. You're doing fine. You were only out
for a little while.." Gage lied. "You've nothing too serious
going on. Now we're gonna get you comfortable and to the
hospital so the doctors can check you out, all right? You're
going to be flown out to them. Ever been on a helicopter
before?" he grinned encouragingly while he took her wrist
pulse and eyeballed her breathing rate.

"No.. " she gasped.

"Well, it's pretty fun. Noisy, but fun." he told her. Then
he slipped into paramedic again. "How's your breathing
now? Is that suffocating feeling going away yet? Your voice
doesn't sound as hoarse as it did just a few seconds ago."

"I...I think I'm ok..." she coughed wetly. "How's my heart? I've
got some problems there. I had rheumatic fever as a child."

Gage and Marco exchanged a flickering glance and both
their eyes fell on the EKG screen, but only normal sinus
tach was registering. "What kind of problems?" Johnny
asked quietly, holding still.

"Father says I've got a murmur. He's a doctor back home
in New Dehli."

Gage relaxed. "Oh... ok. Thanks for mentioning that. Lathika,
your EKG looks pretty good for becoming the one of the first
human ballistic pin cushions in the whole entire history of the
Colossus County Fair." he joked about the bee attacked
coaster accident she had nearly been in.

Lathika laughed weakily. "Where am I?" she whispered
hoarsely.

Ivan had returned and he was kneeling by the girl's feet.
"Still on the highest hill of the roller coaster ride. I'm
the one who spotted you blacking out and called the fire
department."

"Thank you...sir..uh,.. Mr.." said Lathika shyly, suddenly
taken by her new, unexpected attentive guest who was
more her own age than the helmeted firemen around
her.

"Svenson..But, please, call me Ivan." offered the 
Swedish accented teenager.

"Thank you, Ivan. For watching out for me. And all
of you other men as well. Father will be grateful. And..
so am I..."  she said and then she smiled the whitest
smile Johnny and the others had ever seen. No one
noticed the hives or any of the swelling at all on her face
and were thoroughly dazzled by her emerging exotic
beauty.

"No problem.. " they all said, surprisingly effected by
the charismatic Khmer girl.

Ivan was tongue tied.

Then Gage took firm charge again. "Lathika, we're gonna
get you set up into a stokes. We're gonna carry you up to the
chopper hovering at the top of the coaster hill. Just relax and let
us do all the work, ok?"

The first frown appeared on her face. "I'm....so cold."

"We'll get you covered up in a second. " Marco said. "There's
a blanket right here."

"That'll pass." said Gage. "The epinephrine I gave you made all
your blood vessels constrict while making your lung passages dilate.
It's bound to make you lose some heat. Its what's making your heart 
beat so fast right now."

"I wouldn't be too sure of that.." said Chet, sotto voce to Gage.
"Just look at those two love birds."

Ivan and Lathika were locked eye to eye, both grinning, with gently
clasped hands. Their eyes were full of the undeniable, heart felt look
of love at first sight.

Johnny smacked Kelly. "Go radio the pilot that we're ready for her
pickup along with four of these other coaster riders." he said warningly,
half in a smile. "We'll load her off with the new paramedic on board
before we go help Roy out."

"Roger that.." said Chet, still politely admiring the two oblivious
teenagers in between them.  Kelly rose and helped Marco and
Gage lift Lathika into the yellow plastic wrapped nested stokes.

Johnny hurriedly gave Dr. Brackett a second BP
and other vital signs along with his news of the nearly
complete turn around in the girl.

Then he was busy with Ivan, Marco and Chet, with carrying
Lathika's gear loaded stokes into Chopper 11.

Soon, the rest of the roller coaster rescue operation began
in earnest.

----------------------------------------------------------------

Photo :  Johnny, Chet, Marco, looking down.

Photo: Johnny with an unconscious girl, pupil check.

Photo: A winningly beautiful Khmer teen girl.

Photo:  A shy Swedish teen boy.

Photo:  Cap, Roy and Johnny lowering a laden stokes.

**************************************************************
From:  Sam Iam <lafddispatcher@yahoo.com> 
Date:  Wed Oct 27, 2004  11:28 am 
Subject:  Evac

The bee stung girl's complete name was Lathika Senaveratani. 

Gage made sure to turn down her I.V. to TKO before the co-pilot 
took over her head. He helped Johnny load her up onto the rear deck 
of the hot running H-60.  Marco and Kelly each set gloves on Johnny's 
back as the three of them backed away from the aircraft, crouched 
down low to avoid the rotor wash. Vocal communication was 
impossible. So, as the chopper sped up its top blades for liftoff 
for the parking lot, to let out the first batch of uninjured riders, Gage 
gave the paramedic on board her, Lathika's treatment plan and care 
history via HT. Then he took his medical gear back after a transfer to 
110's. 

"HT 51 to HT 110," said Johnny into the walkie talkie as Chet, he
and Marco were bent over while jogging back down the hill towards Roy 
and his victims.  "Her rhythm's stable. I gave her only one dose .5mg epi I.V. 
1/10,000 on the way up to you at 15:41. She's chilled somewhat and just a 
little anxious. You've got a copy of my care notes under her shoulder, wrapped 
around the I.V. bag.  The victim's father is out of the country but,...she may 
have a new friend she'd like to contact once she's at Rampart . His name's 
Ivan Svenson." he said. "Do me a favor and hook those two up if
you can." he said with a grin at Kelly, who gave Johnny a thumbs up.

"Johnny the match maker. Didn't know you had it in you, Gage." chuckled
Chet. "I'm sure Dixie'll learn about this pair of turtle doves on her next
shift and who to thank for it.."  he yelled over the helicopter's noisy
preparations.

Gage just rolled his eyes. "Who am I to argue with true love, Kelly? I
just wish that someday, it'll happen to me." he yelled back, smiling huge.

##Chopper 11 to HT 51, paramedic signals message has been received.
You're clear of my danger zone. Good luck with your other victims.## 
said Chopper 11's pilot as Lathika's flight took to the air.

Hearing that they were in the clear, Marco, Johnny and Chet began to
run back down the hill in a controlled descent along the tracks to
the second, still occupied roller coaster near DeSoto.

Gage set down his tank of oxygen with a clang. "Ok, Roy, which one
first? Kelly, start putting C collars on all the ones Roy has opened
the shirts on." he said.  Then he looked up, "Stoker? Any not 
breathing well?"

"This one." he said about a young teen aged man in yellow with
a bald head. "He's worsening. Breathing's Cheyne-Stokes. Carotid's
forty two. Roy's already got an intubation order and another for atropine." 
Mike replied, giving the boy another carefully assisted breath with a
demand valve. "He hasn't vomited any more. Last time was two
minutes ago and that was only liquid. No food."

"Go to Stoker's teenager!" replied Roy, giving his victim albuterol.

Gage hurried over and eyed the young man's already hanging
Ringer's approvingly. "He's perfusing good enough, cardiac wise.
Ok, let's get him going. Endotrach, Roy?"

"Yeah. Size 7 French. It's on his lap along with the larygoscope."
DeSoto said. "I got an asthma case here turning around with
a poor airway with a palpable deformed alignment at C-5. She's 
my top priority." and then he was on his HT once again to
Dr. Early at Rampart.

"I'll be right with ya.." Johnny said. 

Marco had already recruited Ivan to help hustle the uninjured 
passengers away and to a ladder where climbing teams of
firefighters from Truck 99 were ready to show them the
way down.

Stoker kept up the boy's ventilations manually as Johnny
impatiently waited for Kelly to immobilize the teen's neck. 
"Man, how am I gonna do this? The impact bars around his 
shoulders are keep him fully head upright." Gage mumbled.

"You need him flat, sir, to help him?" asked Ivan, running up.

"Yeah, can you do that without jarring their C spines?" Roy 
asked. "He and the man next to him have bad head injuries."

"Sure, I can. Like this..stand away for a moment." and Ivan set a firm 
foot on the edge of the coaster car and released a hidden spring. The 
whole car smoothly angled feet up along a rocking cradle and in seconds, 
the teen's whole passenger row was "seated" horizontal. "That is how we 
get the riders out at the loading terminal. Just let me know when you want 
me to release the shoulder restraint bars. They all lift off at once for every 
seat on the train."

"Thanks, Ivan." said Johnny and then he and Mike Stoker quickly got the 
boy airway secured and fully support medicated. 

His color improved at once. Johnny left him under Mike's watchful eye and 
moved to DeSoto's side to help him with the asthma case with the broken 
neck.

Five minutes later, the three seriously wounded, in stokes, were on the 
way to the hospital in the belly of Chopper 19 with Roy DeSoto, Johnny
Gage and 110's second paramedic aboard. 

The rescue helicopter arched its trajectory into the setting sun,
heading for the Torrance city skyline. ##Chopper 19 to Rampart Base, 
we've three serious landing at the pad in four minutes.## said the flight 
commander. ##Three minor are arriving via ambulance in eight.##

All the rescue personnel heard Dr. Brackett and Joe Early's voices
in triplicate over radios, headsets and HTs as the doctors 
acknowledged that they were ready to receive all incoming victims
to their emergency ward at Rampart General Hospital.

--------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Photo:    Loading Chopper 19.

Photo:   The H-60 helicopter pilot.

Photo:   The Colossus roller coaster as viewed
               from the air with Station 51 and choppers.

Photo:   Roy and Johnny Gage putting on life vests
              inside Chopper 19.
 
Photo:   Chopper 19, LaCoFD's firehawk helicopter, in the air.
 
*************************************************************************
From:  "killashandrarey01" <killashandraRey@hotmail.com> 
Date:  Wed Oct 27, 2004  5:05 pm 
Subject:  After Hours..


Rampart remained busy with the Colossus County
Fair accident victims until long after sundown. Dr.
Brackett and Joe Early were so deep in their diagnoses,
and stabilization surgeries, that they had forgotten about 
Dixie McCall, still lying sick at home.

---------------------------------------------------------------------

Dixie McCall awoke to a full darkness, broken
only by the pale moonlight streaming in through
the lacy curtains of her bedroom window. Her bleary
fever dry eyes, made out the time on her nightstand
clock.  00:38.  She tried to move, in a reach for a
half full, luke warm water glass, when the sharp belly pain
doubled her up making her grab around both knees, 
in a surge of choking nausea.

"Owww..." she moaned. "Ok, enough's enough.." she
grunted, half sobbing. She hugged herself under the 
blankets in suffering, burning agony. "I give up. I give in.
I'm going to see a doctor. I promise....Just...just
ease up and let me dress." she said to her stomach.

Her belly pain, had moved. It was now pinpointed, in a 
spot between her right hip bone and her navel. 

She frowned, unable to make the significant connection
with that new finding. Her mind was too muddled. 

Dixie had pulled on pants over her pajama shorts and had 
snatched up her car keys from the dresser, 
when the pain toppled her onto the rug.

She lay there, curled in a ball, soundless, as wave after
wave of pure agony swept over her. Her bedroom
furniture and the moonlit ceiling blurred. "No, not gonna
black out. Oh, boy. Kel's never gonna forgive me for
trying to wait it out." she cried, leaking tears of misery.

Dixie crawled trembling fingers across the rug until they
reached the phone cord trailing from the Victorian receiver on
her nightstand. With a jerk, she pulled the phone down
from the table. It clattered in a tangle of cord around
her head. "...ohhh..hhh..." McCall moaned, dragging
the phone and its hand held receiver to her face.

She dialed seven numbers, leaving the phone tipped 
over sideways, out to the only number she could remember
entirely.

A male voice came on the other end of the line, questioning,
and concerned, when Dixie didn't answer.

Dixie passed out close to the receiver, where her strained
breathing could be heard clearly, in fevered distress.

-----------------------------------------------------------------------------

Photos:  None.

****************************************************************
From:  "wone3" <jwilds@prodigy.net> 
Date:  Wed Oct 27, 2004  1:40 pm 
Subject:  The Call out

The number Dixie remembered and dialed was Station 51 and 
she had been really lucky as the whole station was just returning 
from a vacant house fire with no injuries to be transported that had
occupied all of them for the last hour or so.

Mike Stoker had just pulled the engine in place and raced to pick up
the phone beating Captain Stanley to it.

He heard the distressed breathing on the other end and when he tried
to get the person to talk, he received no answer from the other
end. "Can you please tell me who you are? " he said into the phone.

Suddenly, Johnny realized that they hadn't heard anything about Dixie
since being called out for the coaster incident. "Do you think it is
her?" he said aloud. "Ask the person if it is Dixie." he said.

Mike called into the phone, "Dixie, Miss McCall is that you?" He
heard a quiet groan on the other end.

Roy, who was right beside the receiver heard the groan, too, and grew
concerned that it might be Dixie.

Roy called over to the Captain, "Cap, can you call us in a silent
alarm for Dixie's place? We should go check it out to be sure. Could
you also call over to the hospital? Doctors Brackett and Early will
want to know what's going on, we promised to keep them in the loop as
they promised us."

Cap reassured them that the docs would be called as he hurried to
call the alarm into dispatch. "Dispatch this is Station 51, calling
in a silent alarm for squad 51 to 213 Elm Street, Apartment 6."

Dispatch answered, ##10-4…. Squad 51, time out, 00:51.##

Captain answered, "10-4, KMG 365." He went over to the squad with 
the call slip as the guys were waiting in it. Marco ran over to open the
bay door for the squad to exit.

Cap told the guys, "Be careful, but get there quickly. We'll make the
call. If you need to take her in, you can stay available from the
hospital. Call us once you find out anything though, OK?"

Both Johnny and Roy echoed, "We will, Cap, and thanks." They 
then sped out of the bay on a speed trip to Dixie's apartment.

---------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Photos:  None.

********************************************************************
From: "Jeff Seltun" <finiterider@yahoo.com> 
with "Patti Keiper" <pattik1@hotmail.com>
Date: Thu, 28 Oct 2004 01:26:32 -0700 (PDT) 
Subject:  Hindsight is NOT Better Than Foresight... :)
  

On the way, with lights and siren running, Roy DeSoto
had a thought. "Johnny, do you think we'll need PD for
this call? We might freak out a lot of Dixie's neighbors
if we force our way into her place without alerting em
ahead of time."

Johnny let out a big sigh, crumpling up the address slip.
"It is the middle of the night, and you know how we need
the police for most of our other calls like this. I'll raise em 
on the horn." said Gage with a nod.  He lifted the mic,
"L.A., this is Squad 51."

##Go ahead, 51.##

"Send out a squad car to our silent alarm's location. We may 
need official authorization for a break in." he said and then he 
hung up the microphone head onto its spigot.

##10-4, 51. LAPD says their ETA is fifteen minutes.##

"What?!" Johnny said in exclamation. "That's sheer craziness!
What if Dixie's condition's serious? We can't wait that long just
hanging about outside her patio...." he empathized out loud
as he listened to L.A. notifiy a police patrol car about their
medical emergency private home entry request.

Roy said. "If we can't see her in the window, that's what
we're gonna haveta do, junior. A phone line with a history 
of heavy breathing doesn't mean a life or death situation."

"But it doesn't negate it either." Gage said, very unhappy,
as he clunked a jacketted elbow down on the open edge 
of his passenger window. "You told me you and Stoker
definitely heard a groan on that line."

"It IS near Halloween, Johnny."

"Yeah, but why would kids prank call a firehouse? Usually
kids think we're really cool and...leave us alone." Gage
said.

"I can think of half a dozen crank calls B shift's had over the
last two months that started up just like this one."
Roy just shrugged. "We'll have at least some answers 
in...." he looked at his watch in the glow of the bar lights
reflecting off the squad's hood. "....four minutes....."

"I got a better idea....." Johnny said with a finger snap.

"What?" Roy asked, glancing away from the road.

Johnny picked up the radio mic again.

-----------------------------------------------------------------------------

Engine 51 roared off the freeway ramp and pulled up behind 
the squad in front of Dixie's apartment complex. The noise
of her arriving Code Three woke up everyone within ear shot
to a distance of two hundred yards.

"Is this your idea of a brilliant idea?" DeSoto asked Gage
while they wound through the night clothed crowd of people,
now milling about the pool area, fully loaded with gear.

"Yeah..." Johnny grinned. "Now we have witnesses..."
"And Cap's just as concerned about that phone call
as we are. He's not gonna yell. Not in the slightest."

"You're right about that." Roy considered. "It's not like
it's a busy night for firehouse calls. Being available here
or at the station's pretty much the same thing I guess."

"Exactly.." Johnny said.

As they neared apartment six, the gang piled out
and went immediately to the front entryway to ring
the doorbell while Roy and Johnny covered the back 
patio facing the moonlit pool to see what they could see.

Johnny upped his ante. "Would someone turn on the lights
out here? We gotta see what we're doing!" he shouted to
the babbling, gossiping crowd of residents around them.

The off hours overhead suddenly kicked on over the
party hut at the far end of the pool, lighting their way 
through the thick palms and bushes surrounding Dixie's
patio. 

"Thank you!" shouted Roy. Then he mumbled. "Geesh,
talk about an abundance of bystander help."

Johnny's HT came to life in his jacket pocket. He
pulled it out. It was Cap. ##No answer at the front door
at the bell or with the knocker. And we've no windows
to look inside. How about on your end?##

"Still getting there. I wouldn't say Dixie's a premiere..."
he grunted as he forced O2 tank and com box through
the hedges.." gardening type. It's a sheer jungle over
here, but we're getting there." Johnny told Hank.

"She does like her privacy.." Roy grinned.

Gage sighed and finally his shoes reached the concrete
slab of her patio. "You know, there's another reason
why I used the engine to wake everybody up."

"Why's that?" Roy asked as he, too, fought through
the bushes to join his grinning partner on Dixie's 
back yard landing.

A commotion on the sidewalk of fast stepping slippers got
their attention and a thick, hidden ivy covered gate
that neither Roy nor Johnny knew was there, suddenly swung 
open onto the patio where they were, revealing a woman in a 
robe of quilted pastels with a thick ring of keys in her hand.

"That's why.." Gage pointed at her. "I figured one of these 
crowd folks just had to be the land lady.." Johnny said, tilting 
his head. "Dragging out the Ward, too, just bettered our 
chances in finding her.."

"Will wonders never cease.." Roy sighed with a half smile,
pulling off his helmet. He quickly explained the situation to
the land lady about Dixie McCall.

"Oh, sure.. Here, let me let you in. The poor dear. We all
thought she was just tired from saving Gerald Miller. The
kids saw her go back inside right after you fellas left."

Johnny was still peeking through the windows, shining his
flashlight. He couldn't see anything. "Thanks, Ma'am, for
coming. You see, the cops are delayed a bit. And this can't
wait."

"No, of course it can't.." said the landlady. "Here you go boys.
Can I come in? I'll be your entry witness.." she volunteered.

"That's what we had in mind, Ma'am.." Johnny said as
the landlady opened the glass patio door with a flick of
a long skeleton key.

Roy and Johnny immediately went inside, shouting Dixie's
name. The landlady trailed behind and turned on the lights
for them.

"She's not in here.." said Roy, leaving the bathroom.
"Looks like she's been vomiting." he said about an
unflushed toilet. "Some diarrhea, too." He flushed it
away after Johnny had a look at it.

Johnny let in Cap and the others through the front door
and quickly, the gang cased the living room, den,
the closest bedroom.... 

Finally, they found her on the carpetting, face down with a 
phone receiver in her hand, in the farther one.

"Cap, we'll need an ambulance.." Roy said.

"You got it, pal. I'll be right back."

Johnny unwrapped the phone cord from around Dixie's 
body and hung up the phone into its cradle, setting the whole
thing back on the nightstand while DeSoto knelt down, feeling 
for a carotid. "Dixie? Can you hear me?"

Together, he and Johnny gently rolled her over onto her left
side from off of her stomach, supporting her head and neck in 
a line, carefully, leaving her legs bent up to her stomach as they 
checked to see if she was breathing. She was, shallowly.

Dixie just moaned at an arm pinch. "Altered level, Johnny.
Marco," he asked looking up. "..can you get her on some O2?"

"Yeah."

"Make it high flow."

Hank returned after his HT call outside and
crouched down, "Can we move her to the bed? It
might make it easier for you two to work."

Johnny got done sweeping Dixie's head, neck and back
for any blood or misalignment. "Yeah, I'm not finding anything
here. She didn't hurt herself falling at least. Her c-spine's clear."

The gang lifted her to the bed with a sheet, leaving
the others pulled down. She was placed onto her back and
Roy and Johnny piled the gear around her after the O2 was
set over her face.

Stoker thought ahead and placed pillows under
Dixie's knees to keep them bent, remembering her
unexpressed pain from earlier in the afternoon.

Cap began a hail out to Rampart while Johnny loosened
Dixie's clothes and pants for breathing's sake and got an initial 
set of vital signs. "Chet, see if you can wake her past groaning. 
I don't know why she's not conscious yet. The oxygen should've 
helped her regain more awareness a full minute ago."

"That's if this is just another syncopal episode." DeSoto said
as he got a blood pressure off of her. His expression changed
into a more serious frown. "78/52. She's real warm, too."

"Sepsis?" Johnny guessed.

"Maybe. Check her abdomen. You remember what happened
to her this afternoon better than I do." DeSoto admitted.

"Not really. She wasn't very revealing." But Johnny checked.
He found mild rigidity in the lower right quadrant and
he heard noisy bowel sounds through his stethoscope.

"Ok." Kelly began talking to McCall loudly. "Come on. Dixie,
can you open your eyes for me? It's Chet Kelly from Station
51. We got your call ok. Everyone's here. Hey, open those 
gorgeous peepers of yours and say hello to your house guests. 
Millie the land lady's here, too. Johnny, hand me your penlight.
I'll check out her pupils for you."

Gage tossed Chet his light. "What'dya got?"

Kelly reported a finding after a few seconds. "P.e.a.r.l."

"Figures." Johnny huffed in frustration. "Keep at it.
We'll need her talkin to learn anything more."

"And... she's starting to flinch." Chet continued.

"That's a little better. Just don't kiss her. She may get 
mad at ya." Johnny said with volume, trying a bad
joke to get any kind of a cognitive reaction out of 
the sick nurse. 

"Why not? She's pretty enough.." Kelly quipped,
going along, equally loud.

Dixie blinked and then she coughed. And then the
pain returned, full blown. "Oh, guys. I ..thu  you'd nev ...here.."
she moaned, drawing her knees up even higher than
the pillows. "Oh ..gaa ..make it sto-- p p.." she sobbed,
with the emotions hardly reaching her features as much as
it did in her voice.

"Dix?" Johnny asked, "Open your eyes.." he said,
shaking her. "Tell us what's happening.." he
ordered firmly.

She just made a non-sensical noise and shuddered
in a fever chill.

Hank got a reply on the biophone. It was Dr. Morton.
"Stand by, Rampart. I'll pass you off to one of
the paramedics now. We've got a thirty two year old
female with an acute abdomen, non traumatic." he
informed. Then he mouthed the word "Morton" at
his men when they looked up from getting a Normal
Saline I.V. ready.

Roy took the phone. "Rampart. Our victim's semi-conscious.
Non responsive to verbal commands. B/P's 78/52, Pulse's 90. 
Her respirations are 20 and shallow and both pupils are equal 
and reactive. There's no signs of falling injury but there is evidence 
of gastric and intestinal upset with a fever. We found mild guarding 
in her lower right quadrant. She's on fifteen liters of O2."

Morton nodded his head and then he pressed the talk button
in the base station. ##Maintain her O2. Start an I.V., 51. Normal
Saline. Administer a 250 to 500 cc's bolus and titrate until her
pressure's at least 90 or better systolic. Then turn it TKO.
Conduct a head to toe survey and get a better neurological
assessment. Look for any abdominal distension or signs
of pulsatile masses. Palpate her flank on the effected side for 
any CVA tenderness. Also, draw a red top for analysis. She's 
been vomiting and losing digestive material intestinally, so I'm 
gonna assume it's been a while since she's eaten anything. Give 
her some Dextrose at 50%. 25 gms in an I.V. push. Let's hope her 
stuporous state's due to hypoglycemia and that it isn't septic 
involvement. 100 mgs Thiamine won't hurt either. In fact, give her 
some. And get an oral temperature for me if you can, 51. Monitor 
her on EKG for any altered rhythm. Report back to me in two 
minutes with any new details. If not, transport her as soon as 
possible. ##

"10-4, I.V. Normal Saline titrated to the hemodynamic status 
margin minimum. A red top followed by 25 gms Dex50 I.V.,
and 100 mgs Thiamine. EKG check followed by a condition 
update and immediate transport."

Millie wanted to know. "What's all that stuff?"

Cap answered, "Salt water and sugar, with one of the B vitamins,
a heartbeat reading, and then a fast ticket outta here."

"Huh...Whatever happened to the good ol smelling salts and
patting the wrists routine? That worked fine in reviving folks 
awake in my day.." Millie interjected.

Johnny and Roy just smiled.

They got down to business re-examining Dixie for problems
visually and by feel and found only a few bruises on her palms
from the CPR she had given Ger and a few minor scrapes
on her hips from when she dragged the boy out of the pool.

No masses or pulsations were found anywhere in her abdomen
beyond the rigidity that was just starting to become apparent.

After they had given her a good once over and had connected
Dixie to the heart monitor, they covered her up with a sheet
for warmth.

A minute later, following the energizing Thiamine,
all the sugar and the actively pushed fluid bolus, Dixie finally showed 
some mental life. Her eyes  fluttered open. For good measure, 
she jerked her hand out of Kelly's concerned one." I heard that 
joke, you two nutcases. I just couldn't answer.." she growled. 
"Not yet, anyway.  Just how much is all this attention gonna cost
me? I've never needed an ambulance before.."

"Hardly anything and ...we're glad you liked it.." Johnny said.
"And everybody ELSE'S glad that you're conscious. Now you
know the routine. Quit griping and answer my questions already."
 
Dixie sighed under her O2 mask and lifted her knees a little
higher at a particularly viscious pain stab. "Go.."

"What are your symptoms? We already know about
the fever, diarrhea and the vomiting."

"Abdominal pain. Surprise!" 

Roy and Johnny made a face. Chet just laughed.

"Do you have any allergies?"

"No."

"Are you on any medications or have you taken anything
for this?"

"None and no."

"What kind of abdominal history do you have? Anything like a 
past incarcerated hernia, intussuception, cholecystitis, cystitis, 
duodenal ulcers, diverticulitis, abdominal aortic aneurysm, 
kidney infections, kidney stones, pancreatitis, 
pelvic inflammatory disease...."

Dixie just rolled her eyes at the last one.

"Sorry.. And I know you haven't had any kids recently.."

She glared at Gage indignantly.

"..ever.." he amended self consciously, clearing his throat.

Dixie let him off the look-that-could-kill hook.
"None on all counts, Johnny. All I know is that I hurt.
Horribly. And I'm so hot I feel like I'm gonna die." she
whimpered instead.

"No you're not. Your pressure's sitting at an even 100
now. Up twenty millibars." Roy grinned.

"Speak for yourself. You aren't hurting." she snivelled.

"He could be if you punch him one.." Chet suggested.

"Don't tempt me.." she spat.

Right then, Johnny tested for rebound tenderness over
her stomach and found a definite positive finding
when she shoved his hand away with a sharp intake of
breath and suddenly grew five shades paler. " Uh huh.. 
And right over McBurney's point, Roy.."

Dixie met both the paramedics' eyes with a blank stare.
"You've got to be kidding. Appendicitis?" she pegged.

"We don't know that and none of us will. Not until after a 
battery of testing.." Roy admitted. 

"Cap, how long on that ambulance? She's.. VERY..
stabilized now." Gage asked, putting a bored chin into a 
hand on an elbow lean. 

"Let ME find out for ya, Cap." and Kelly neatly exited the 
apartment to avoid the storm to come. "I'll....just.. show them
the way through darkest Africa out here..." he said.

"My garden's not THAT bad! Oww.." Dixie fired back,
doubling over when her shouting irritated her side again.

Gage returned to his questioning. "Last oral intake?"

"Uhh,, I don't remember.." she sighed weakily from the pillows.

Roy rubbed his nose. "Morton called her diminished 
LOC right on the nose. Hypoglycemia.."

"Not him, too...?! Ughh!" Dixie denied. "It's bad enough having Kel
and Joe snooping around and finding out about this.." she winced.
"But to have that beside mannerless automaton knowing
about it.."

"Shall I relay that message?" Johnny quirked, holding out
the biophone receiver. "He's listening.."

Dixie paled even further.

"No, he's not. I covered the phone when you started up
about him. Aren't I nice?" Gage sniffed. "Events leading
to your illness?" he continued, scribbling into his note pad.

Dixie sputtered, recovering on all tracks but the physical.
"Let's see, over work, under pay.." she ticked off on her
fingers.. " a tiny head cold and now I've got a big problem 
with a certain bunch of real pesky firemen.." she blathered.

Johnny ignored her. "When was the onset of your pain?"

Dixie finally got intimated by the proceedings and started
answering without bristling. "Started mid line bilaterally
around 11 am, right after work, yesterday."

"What provoked it?"

"Moving." she snapped.

"What does it feel like?"

"Awful."

Now it was Roy's turn to roll his eyes.

Now Gage poured on the purest kind of paramedic mule headed 
cussedness. "Does it radiate anywhere?" he asked through gritted 
teeth, staying outwardly professional beyond that one anomaly.

"Not anymore. You found the X that marks the spot."

Johnny bit his lip. "How severe is it?"

"Bad."

Cap started chuckling and had to amble away.

"Does anything make it better?" Roy tried when
Johnny began boiling.

"Unconsciousness did, Roy, and I got you two to 
thank for dragging me kicking and screaming out of it." 
Dixie said quite honestly, ripping off her oxygen mask.
"Excuse me, I'm going to go puke.." and she started
to get up.

Both Johnny and Roy.... and Cap... stopped her by
grabbing and laying across her chest, knees and
legs. "You're not going anywhere, Dixie! You've lost
your right to make a judgement call." Hank thundered.

"Who says?!"

"We all do!" Gage shouted. Then he narrowed his eyes
in a challenge. "Let her go, Cap. Roy, you too."
Reaching over, he shut down Dixie's running I.V. to TKO. 
"Ok. Prove it."

Dixie eyed Johnny suspiciously. "Prove what?"

"Prove that you're fully medically competent to handle
this health matter..." he said firmly stabbing a finger
down on the bed sheets in between them. "If you can
stand up on your own two feet, without blacking out,"
he said waggling a finger in her face."...all of us will just 
pack up.....and we'll leave..."

The silence in the room was palpable.

Dixie's hand snaked over and dialed up the I.V. to a fast 
gush in the drip chamber. 

"Ah, ah ah.." Johnny said, jerking the tubing out of her hand 
and he redialed it back down to TKO. "Without any outside help 
or adjunct." he clarified.

Then he pulled her sheets down and invited her to swing her legs 
over the side of the bed.

Dixie froze like a deer in the headlights. 

Then her jaw clamped shut and the insult she was about to 
hurl died aborning. She yanked the covers back up to her chin 
and her teeth started to chatter. "You boys make sure neither Kel 
nor Joe does my surgery.."

Johnny relaxed his finger pointing stare and he planted the 
abandoned O2 mask that was hissing around her neck to back 
over her face. 

She didn't protest. "Promise me..." she asked of her two hands on 
hips posturing paramedics.
 
"Ok.." Roy shrugged and he turned up her I.V. to a shock fighting 
level again.

Feeling a bit like the devil, Johnny added, "We'll let Morton do it."

Dixie nearly levitated off the bed.

Right then the elegant Victorian phone on Dixie's nightstand
rang. 

"Uh oh." trickled Cap.

Johnny picked it up, reluctantly, after it rang six times. "Oh, hiya doc. 
Uh, what do you mean what am I still doing over here? Uh,  that's kind 
of a long story. You see...."

--------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- 

Photo :  Gang around a Dixie on a bed.

Photo:  Chet with a You've got to be kidding look.

Photo:  Johnny infuriated.

Photo:  Morton casually listening on the landline.

Photo: Roy chewing his nail.

Photo:  Cap with Johnny on a Victorian phone.

**************************************************************************
From :  wone3 <jwilds@prodigy.net> 
Sent :  Saturday, October 30, 2004 1:55 PM 
Subject :  [EmergencyTheaterLive] Kel's Call 
  
 
Kel Brackett had just finished with his last patient from the 
fairgrounds, stretching and yawning after the long session of 
patients he had dealt with during this crisis. He checked with the 
staff to make sure the patient was going to be moved to a room 
shortly and started to leave the room for the elevators. Joe Early 
had just finished with his last patient shortly before Kel and was 
waiting by the elevators for one to arrive when Kel walked up. They 
engaged in small talk about their patients until the elevator door 
opened and the bell rang. They both stepped into the elevator with 
Kel pushing the button for the first floor ER and Joe abruptly 
changing the subject. 

"I wonder how Dixie is doing? Have you heard anything? I haven't and 
asked Carol if Dixie called to just let me know." Joe asked.

Kel answered him, " I haven't received a call either. I'm hoping that 
Carol did and we were all too busy to deliver the message. We can 
check once we return to the floor or call her from my office if she 
hasn't called in. Dixie has too many symptoms for it to be minor and 
I'm concerned that she doesn't realize it."

The elevator arrived at their floor, the bell rang as the doors 
opened and they walked out. They headed straight for the nurse's 
station. They both saw Mike Morton in base station apparently talking 
to a paramedic team. 

Carol saw both of the doctors arrive and before they could ask the 
question said, " No, Dixie hasn't called in and Dr. Morton is on with 
51's at their silent alarm. I don't remember the address but I think 
it was an apartment." 

Joe asked, "Are we that predictable?" 

Carol just rolled her eyes and laughed as she returned to the 
paperwork before her. Dixie had taught her well about the doctors. 
Both doctors just laughed as Kel said, "I guess so." They walked back 
to his office to make the phone call.

Joe followed Kel into his office and shut the door behind him. Kel 
sat down at the desk and dialed the numbers from memory to Dixie's 
place. The phone rang and rang. Kel was growing concerned as the 
number of rings climbed up to 6 and then someone picked up the phone. 
It was Johnny Gage and that confused and concerned Kel even further.

Kel asked, "What are you doing there?"

>Johnny answered with hesitation, "Hi ya doc, what am I doing here? 
>Well it is a long story. You see"

Kel interrupted Johnny, "You mean she finally came to her senses and 
called for help?"

Johnny answered, "Well sort of, she must have blacked out after she 
dialed our station number. We couldn't get a response from her over 
the phone and came over. The landlady let us in and we found her 
collapsed beside her bed. She got lucky to get us; we had just come 
back from a house fire that had taken us away from the station for at 
least an hour. We have been talking to Morton to treat her since 
then."

Kel could hear Dixie yell from the background "Kel, you and Joe, and 
I know Joe is with you, aren't going to perform surgery on me when I 
get there."

Kel acknowledged Johnny by stating he knew because he had checked by 
the nurse's station before calling. He then asked Johnny to give 
Dixie the phone and Johnny did. Dixie stated, "Did you hear me Kel?"

Kel interrupted her, "We tried to do things your way, and you haven't 
gotten better but instead worse. Now it's our turn, and you are going 
to have to deal with things the way we want to do it. You are the 
patient and nothing more from here on out until this is finished." He 
growled at her. Joe tried to get him to calm down in the background. 
She quietly acquiesced, she knew she had caused too many problems by 
his time, her fight nearly gone, and her fever-reduced haze was 
playing tricks on her mind, and handed the phone back to Johnny.

He told Johnny that he'd check with Mike about everything that had 
been done thus far and asked why they weren't on the way yet. Johnny 
told the doc that the ambulance wasn't there yet and was delayed a 
while, once it was there they were more than ready to go. Kel 
acknowledged it and told the paramedic that he'd see him once they 
got here and hung up. He went to find Mike Morton.

Just as Johnny hung up the phone, Dixie's eyes rolled back and she 
blacked out dissolving into unconsciousness once again.

----------------------------------------------------------------

Photo:  None.

***************************************************** 
From:  "patti keiper" <pattik1@hotmail.com> 
Date:  Sun Oct 31, 2004  7:17 pm 
Subject:  Here's to Jack O Lanterns and Internal Organs..

 
Johnny Gage noticed, "Dixie?  Hey--" and he reached
out to touch her chin when Roy DeSoto stopped him.

"Why don't we let her be, Johnny?" he smiled. "Looks
like she's finally given in to that long rest her body's been
demanding that she'd better have. She's comfortable
enough and breathing fine on her side just as she is without
us messing around with an oral airway. We'd be disturbing
her if we did any further monkeying."

"But--" he bit his lip, considering, and checking a sudden retort.
"Ok, convince me. What's her pressure now?" checking McCall's 
pupils again in a search for how far down she'd gone.

"116/72.." he said pointedly amused. "The I.V.'s HAS done its work. 
And see? On the monitor...." Roy invited with an eye glance.

Johnny studied Dixie's tracing EKG reading on the scope and his 
critical analyzing frown slowly turned into a light smile. "Sinus rhythm... 
finally." he sighed. 

"Yeah, her rate's about 58." Roy agreed. "Not stressed any longer
at all.."

"Now that's what I call sleeping.." Kelly remarked.

"Chet, what would you know?" Gage commented. "You're not a paramedic 
like us." The irritation on giving into his partner's low impact patient care 
plan was still festering a bit under the skin. He liked his victims awake 
and talking when they didn't have vitals that disfavored maintaining that status.  

"No, but I know good vital signs notes when I hear them." he said, unoffended. 
"I got the smarts when I need em. Don't you worry yourself about that, pally." he 
said, winking at Roy to let him know he was in a needle Johnny Gage 
mode again now that all the excitement was over.

Gage rapidly starting cleaning up and tidying while Roy readied 
Dixie's apparatus for gurney loading. "No, you're definitely pumpkin positive, 
Chet..." he mumbled.

"What? I didn't quite hear ya, Johnny? What the heck's pumpkin positive 
mean?" he grinned, giving motions of a gimme more gesture behind Gage's 
back where the dark haired paramedic couldn't see it.

The gang just folded arms together to watch the verbal tennis match with 
the same grins on their faces.

And Johnny walked right into the baiting, hook, line and sinker. "If a doctor 
writes 'Pumpkin Positive' on your notes, Chet, they mean if they shine a penlight 
into your mouth, they would encounter a brain so small that your whole head 
would light up."

"Oh, uh huh." Kelly said, mildly, completely unruffled. "Gee, that's really interesting, 
Gage. But what IQ scale fits your place at the shallow end of the gene pool...?
You didn't even see that Dixie's just snoozing right now until Roy here, pointed 
it out to you."

"Chet---"

"Ok, enough's enough." Cap intervened, chuckling. "If you two carry on in here 
much longer, you just might DO what Roy says not to do and you'll wake her up. 
You guys can go play debate team after the call's over. Come on, Kelly. Back 
to the engine. Stoker and Marco are already waiting for ya. "

"But--"

"But nothin, I'm only lagging behind because I wanna make sure that Dixie's 
place get's locked up again once the PD gets here. You know my signature's
needed on the house entry form. "

"That's all right, sir. I can take care of that.." said Millie the land lady..

Cap blinked and her comment didn't register under the hard thinking and 
disciplining he was still embarking upon. " I'll take the squad in so Roy and 
John can fuss over her at much as they'd like on the way in. Now, shoo.." 
Hank said, jerking up his chin in a firm, I'm the captain look.

"Cappp..." Chet whined. "Are you gonna let Johnny keep 
picking on me?" he said in jest.

"No, I'm gonna let YOU take a time out on HIM. That wasn't 
a request, Kelly.."

"No, it was an order, I know.. I know." and he trudged out the door, 
putting on his helmet again over his smoky curls. "Why spoil my fun? I was 
just trying to lighten the tense mood radiating out from a certain someone 
still leaning over the bed. And Dixie hasn't been disturbed. She
hasn't moved since Roy tipped her head back."

"Go.." Cap pointed, his stenorous baritone cracking out.

"Yes, sir.." Kelly said automatically at the undeniable
tone of command. He snapped his fingers in self chiding
annoyance when he realized that he was still so well 
conditioned, that he actually jumped to attention at it.

"Weellll, maybe there's a few seeds in the jack o lantern
after all." Gage shot back after him. "You understood
that ok.."

All the firemen raised their heads when the sound of 
the Mayfair responding to their rescue call appeared
and finally pulled up just outside. 

"Gage, zip it." Cap coughed, trying to hide a smile.
"You're falling behind. DeSoto's got the I.V. box
already put back together and the attendants are
only seconds away."

Millie rubbed her chin. "I guess all the acid banter means
that Dixie's really ok?" she asked with a knowing smile.

"It sure does.." Roy said, standing up from one last
check on Dixie's respirations. "I'll leave a note with
her about your involvement in resecuring the apartment.
The policeman coming is just a formality. Cap's only 
got a few lines to fill out on the officer's report."

"All right. Thank you, gentlemen, for helping Dixie like
you have. It really was sitting in the back of my mind, that 
something wasn't right. I was just too timid to inquire and 
intrude, you know?"

"Yeah, we know." Johnny said. "It's a trait of being
American, that respect for any individual's home privacy. 
No harm's done, ma'am."

"Thank goodness."

------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
"Dixie..

 Dixie.. Can you hear me? Look what I brought..." said firm
 but quiet male voice.

Dixie opened her eyes and peered around a flowing oxygen
mask.

And saw a grotesque swollen pink and purple worm, floating
in a jar of preserving fluid..

"GahHH!" she jerked, throwing her hands up. "Get that thing
away from me." and she immediately winced when stitches,
external and internal, snagged on her innards. "Ooo.."

"What? It's not a prop from the little shop of horrors, Dixie." 
said Joe Early with a chuckle. "This was part of you fifteen
minutes ago."

"I know what it is, Joe. It's just so... yyuck.." she shuddered, coughing
up a plume of anesthetic gas from her chest as she got a radar
on how truly awake she was becoming.  Her nursing side finally
got the better of her. "Ok, so what did ya find?" she gave in.

Kel Brackett, to Joe's left, also seated on the bed, answered her.
"Well, your appendicitis was uncomplicated. We found no fecaliths, lymph 
node involvements, or any signs of appendiceal perforation. You just had 
some moderate suprefaction of the mesentery that didn't effect the
peritoneum. We did a WBC and a flat plate, which was negative
along with a UA for blood which came completely clear of red cells.
Your kidneys,..are fine."

Dixie blinked, still very groggy. "Would you explain that in plain 
english? I think I'm still a little hollow in the head right now."

"Rest, Dix." Kel said, getting up. "We'll just leave your souvenir
on the bedstand for you to analyze later."

"Don't forget to use a pillow on your abdomen when
you have to cough up some of that phlegm. And yes, we
made sure the incision was made below the bikini line." Joe added.

"You're all heart." she grumbled, rolling over to sleep some
more. "And if I hear one crack about the mickey mouse shaped
beauty mark I know you saw down there coming from the nursing staff,
I'll personally feed you both half of my appendix floating around
in that specimen jar."

"She's awake, Kel. I think we can leave now. No one who's too
sleepy to breathe ever musters up a threat."

"You're right, Joe. Sweet dreams, Dix, and get better fast.."

The only reply was a blissful mumble followed by a rub of
a few fingers on her nose.

The two Rampart doctors left the recovery room on scrub paper
covered shoes, gingerly.

-----------------------------------------------------------------------

Photo :   Kel Morton looking down to treat someone.

Photo:    Joe Early in a suit and Kel in scrubs, talking.

Photo:    Appendix surgery in progress.

Photo:    A removed infected appendix specimen.

Photo:     Dixie, Johnny, Roy and Joe Early around a vending machine.

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

FIN
                                                           §§  00:51  §§

                      :)  This episode is dedicated to the Epipen. Created to                   :)
                           save literally thousands from dying of anaphylatic shock, by
                           putting the power of an instant cure in the hands of everyday
                           folks.                                                                                                    
                      :)                                                                                                              :)

@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@
 
The Story Unfolds...

Season Two, Episode Sixteen..

 §§   Devil's Due   §§
 
 
*************************************************************************
From :  Champagne Scott <chameleonkate@hotmail.com> 
Sent :  Wednesday, November 3, 2004 6:35 PM 
Subject :  [EmergencyTheaterLive] The Cooped Up Cage Jitters.. 


"Man, I am soooo bored.." sighed Johnny Gage as he emptied
the waste paper basket in the wire bin onto the couch for the
fourteenth time, to retrieve the wadded up paper balls that he had
been arching into it from various distances around the rec room.

He chose a place from over by the strategies chalk board
as his next launching point. As usual, Bonnie, the Boston Terrier
watched Gage with intense doggy puzzlement, half torn between
trying to chase the flying overhand tosses, or not to.

"Careful, Johnny." said Roy DeSoto, intently reading the stocks
section of the newspaper. "You just may jinx us." he said rubbing 
his nose.  The fair haired paramedic looked up when Marco Lopez
set another full mug of coffee down in front of him. "Thanks, Marco."

"How can I jinx us? The rain's already doing that for us.." Gage
complained, finally missing a basket. He jerked a restless head
out the window where the blinds were retracted to let in some
feeble gray tinged daylight to offset the flourescent bulbs 
in the ceiling to show the others, that the steady downpour that
had started when their weekend began, was still with them.

Chet Kelly ambled into the rec room, still yawning from a short nap
that had turned surprisingly into a long one.  He was still disoriented
and rumpled. "Ack,...how many tones calls did I miss? I woke up and
I found you guys were gone and the beds were already made."

Mike Stoker calmly intercepted Chet's trajectory toward the coffee
pot on the stove in the kitchen and redirected him before he cracked
a sleepy shoulder into the wall by the payphones. "A big fat zero, Chet.
Open your eyes before you give Roy and Johnny something to do, 
all right? Your higher motor skills are still out to lunch."

Chet got to the stove safely, then he peered at his watch, eyeballing
the time. "Holy cow. Five pm Saturday? I slept for fifteen hours?!"

"Yep. And we enjoyed every minute of the resulting peace and quiet,
too." said Johnny, as he kept up his basket making shots with the
paper wads.

"It wasn't for that full time, Chet. I admit I snuck in there around one
last night to feel for a pulse on ya. You were lying so still that you were
scaring Bonnie.." Roy admitted.

"Arf!"  said the diminuitive Boston. She caterwauled a few happy whines
and then she skidded across the floor on slippery running claws to
go trapse around Kelly's stocking socked feet in an enthusiastic welcome.

"Geesh, you think Bonnie thought I was away forever, man." said Kelly,
rubbing the sleepers out of his eyes. 

"Wish it had been forever, Chet. That'd make my working life just a bit more
tolerable." Johnny grinned, looking at the other guys for brownie points.

No one bothered to participate.

"Oh, ha ha, Gage. Very funny. I won't even go into how I feel about having
you as a working bud." said Kelly, gulping his coffee down despite its
boiling temperature in order to wake up faster.

"Kelly! Where are your shoes?!" admonished Cap, arriving from the
vehicle bay with his journal log book. Coffee was on his mind. For
he stole Roy's outright and started sipping while he glared at Chet's feet.

"Uh,.." he said looking around sleepily, " Ehheh. Right where I left em?"
he replied meekly.

"Go put them on. Then its another session with the manikin for all of 
us in ten minutes.." Hank frowned. Then he turned on his heels and 
retreated back into his office.

Gage gave up the shooting game and pulled up a chair from the table, 
reversed it, and then sat down on its back edge with his feet on the seat 
support.  He studied the direction Cap had gone analytically, not smiling. 
"Has he always been such a task master during slow shifts?"

"Yes.." replied Marco, Chet, Roy, and Stoker, all at the same time.

Even Bonnie barked.

"Count your blessings, Johnny boy. We could be cleaning every inch of
the station instead." Marco admitted.

"Nah, we did that yesterday. Remember?" Chet said. "Or was
that the day before?" Kelly frowned, remembering his long coma
of a nap.

Johnny didn't hear them.
"We've retrieved that Annie from the roof, under the engine, we worked
her code, splinted every limb, probed every inch of her, and now he wants
us to run another scenario? What have we got left to do now?"

"An OB case.." supplied Roy, not looking up from his newspaper.

"Ohh  ho.. lucky us.. Let's hope it's just another obstructed
airway with a broken neck scenario or maybe even a femur
fracture exercise." Gage said unenthusiastically, setting his chin 
onto a palm. "I hate getting powder on my hands from pulling
that doll baby free."

Still ansy, he got up and walked over to the payphone. He picked 
up the receiver, listened on the line for a moment. Then he hung up 
and walked back to sit back down at the table.

"What'd do that for?" asked Chet.

"Just...checking for a dial tone. You know how these winter
rains sometimes knock out a repeater or broadcast tower.
If I didn't hear one, we'd have the perfect reason for why we've
been so dead on business for the last past two days."

"A repeater failure wouldn't effect a payphone, Johnny."
said Roy. "They're hard wired underground and wouldn't
be effected by it."

Johnny got defensive because he was embarrassed that his
telecommunications knowledge wasn't as good as Roy's.
"Well then how ELSE do you explain the fact that we haven't
gotten a single run, for anybody, since early Friday morning?"

Roy lowered his paper and grinned. "The law of averages..."
he said, squinting meaningfully. "The means balance out
the extremes eventually."

Johnny's face twisted in incomprehension that made
the other guys chuckle from whereever they were.

Gage scooped up Bonnie and started massaging her 
head for some moral support. But the Boston Terrier wormed 
her way out of his grip to go follow Chet on his actively searching 
mission to relocate his shoes.

"Gage, did you-?" Kelly asked from where he was
checking out the space underneath the leather couch.

"I didn't touch your shoes. How could I? They were
on your feet the whole time you were sleeping."
Gage answered.

"They were? Oh, ok. Then I think I know where they are
now then. Thanks, pal." and he jogged out of the kitchen.

Lopez said, "You actually helped Chet out of a bind? What's
the matter with you, Johnny, you sick or something?"

"Yeah, I'm sick. I'm sick and tired of being cooped up in this joint 
for forty eight straight hours with absolutely nothing better to do. 
Especially with you guys. It's worse than a high school lock in party."

"Well.. " commented Roy. "You could always stop drinking coffee.
So far you've inhaled three whole pots just by yourself in a little
under three hours. That might explain the feelings of claustrophobia 
and anxiety you're suffering."

"Roy,.." complained Johnny. "You're such a.......a.... paramedic 
sometimes, you know that?" Gage said pointed an animated finger 
at his quiet partner.

"All true. And you're such an interesting case study in the mis-
management of a potentially healthy lifestyle that I just haveta keep 
right on analyzing ya." DeSoto said, leaning back and stretching in 
his chair.

"Well, stop it. If and when I do get addicted to caffeine, I'll be the first
person to let ya know about it."

"You just did, with all that pacing and abundant running commentary.
Why else would you have such a nasty track record when it comes to 
your on the job injuries frequency rate?" debated DeSoto easily.

"You know, I think I'm gonna go take the squad into Rampart on
a supply run. By myself.." Gage said, leaving the kitchen area.

"What about that session with Annie the manikin coming up?!" 
Stoker needled, thoroughly enjoying the sniping banter.

"She can go stuff herself!" came Gage's voice out of the vehicle 
bay.

He almost collided with Chet, coming back towards the 
kitchen replete in his newly found squeaky shoes.

Roy got up with a sigh and followed after his partner so that they 
wouldn't get separated. "I'd better go with him. He might get strange 
ideas and want to drive the squad or something."

"Nothing wrong with that. Go ahead and let him. Then when he 
plows you two into a telephone pole, that'd give the rest of us 
guys an engine run to go on." Chet said mildly.

"I'd rather let Annie drive.." Roy said plainly, the smile wiping off his 
face as he accented the statement with a finger jamming Chet's chest.

"Better hurry up, Roy.. I think I hear the door opening up."
Marco offered helpfully.

Roy got into the squad with Johnny, passing by Cap's closed
office door without incident or interception from him. He decided to 
not announce their supply run to L.A. until they were out of sight of 
the station. He turned the wheel of the rescue truck into the slightly
lighter rain soaked western sky, towards Torrance and
Rampart, and they drove off together.

Roy chuckled. "That was brilliant, Johnny.. I knew acting
irritated and wired loudly enough would cause Cap to
let us leave to go on an unnecessary supply run."

"I wasn't acting.." Johnny said through pursed lips.

Roy began to watch Johnny more than he did the road
the whole trip into the ER. 

He only hoped that happenings there would keep Johnny 
entertained long enough to survive his excessive java intake 
symptomology. ::A huge fire will dry him out like a prune if he 
doesn't come down from it before we get a call for one.:: he 
thought.

He decided to temper Johnny's jitters against the only person
who could tame them. On Dixie.

-----------------------------------------------------

Photo:   A bored Roy in closeup.

Photo:   Stoker and Marco playing chess.

Photo:   Gage and DeSoto in a chess war with Chet
              watching from the TV counter.

Photo:  Cap lecturing Roy and Johnny at the veggie sink.

Photo:  A resusciAnnie manikin.

Photo:  Bonnie the Boston Terrier closeup.

Photo: The squad rolling out from the POV of the engine.

*******************************************************************
Date: Thu, 4 Nov 2004 21:08:01 +0000 (GMT) 
From: "Katherine Bird" <kathbird01@yahoo.co.uk>  
Subject:  The Other Department... 
 

Dixie McCall sized up Johnny Gage in about two
seconds when they were still over thirty feet away from
the Emergency Room front desk. She leaned over to
the two guests visiting with her and mumbled. "Ok,
you two officers are looking for something to do, right? How
about keeping a couple of bored firemen out of my hair
while I get some charting done? That way, I won't have both
public service departments breathing down my neck at the 
same time." she said to her charming companions. "The worst
of this pair is gonna be from the dark haired one. I don't have
to be a doctor to know that he's been sucking down the 
Sumatran Dark a little too much lately."

Reed chuckled, glancing back at his partner Malloy. 
"He sounds like the Sarge on slow days, Dixie. What's
his name?"

"Johnny Gage, Jim. Just get ready. He'll be an earful.
Excuse me..." the demure nurse said, turning her back
and pretending to organize the rescue reel to reel recordings 
next to the pharmaceutical cupboard.

"Howdy, fellas." said Pete Malloy to the two approaching paramedic
firemen. He waved a greeting with the antennae of his HT
which looked very much like the ones Roy and Johnny carried with
them, dangled around their jacketted wrists.

Gage actually turned a circle in his tracks, thinking the dark uniformed
police officer was speaking to someone else. "Oh, you mean us, hi
officer. Uh, officers.." he amended, dipping his head. "How are the
streets faring today?"

Roy deviated his arrival time and went over to the chrome drinking 
fountain alcove for a sip of cold water.

"We've been absolutely hopping, hose jockey." Reed lied. 
"Please, call me Jim. This is my partner Pete. How are the 
firecalls going today?"

Johnny sighed, trying to look over the two officer shoulders to
get Dixie's attention. "They aren't. We haven't heard a peep over
the intercom except for a wakeup call test, since Friday night. 
I'm Johnny Gage and that camel sucking down the water over
there is Roy DeSoto. We're both paramedics with th--"

"We know. We get to clean up after you folks all the time."
Pete beamed.

Johnny didn't quite know how to take that comment so he
changed the subject. "Hi Dix.." he said, arcing up onto his toes 
to see her better. 

Malloy and Reed tightened the gap between their shoulders
so Johnny wouldn't be able to nudge through.

Gage frowned and couldn't figure out why he was doing so.

Roy immediately caught on and he started to laugh. "Johnny.
Don't you recognize a couple of body guards when you see
them? Jim and Pete are running interference.."

"Oh, really.." Johnny said, his voice getting a little less cordial.

"Yes, really." said Dixie, turning around with an empty I.V. box
full of sound recorded clear plastic tape reels. "Thanks Pete.
Thanks Jim, for trying. But I'll handle him from here."

"No problem. Thanks for the coffee, ma'am. It went down swell."
said Jim. "We gotta go. We're on a break from a stake out 
assignment. A pair of detectives are covering for us while we're
on lunch."

"No kidding." Roy said. "Are you gonna get the bad guy?"

"Yeah, mostly likely before sundown. Snipers usually give up 
by then because of poor target visibility." replied Pete.

"Snipers?!" jolted Johnny. "We didn't hear anything about
a shooting spree going on..."

"That's because we've been very good at not alarming
the general public about this character. So far, he's
only taken a couple of pot shots at our squad car lights
and a few park squirrels. No one's been hurt yet." Jim Reed
answered Gage.

"Ooo, stay safe out there guys." said McCall. "And give these
donuts to those two covering for you. I can't stand police types
who decide their work's more important than their stomachs."
she said, shoving over a box of them across the desk counter.
Johnny made a grab for the lid but Dixie slapped his hand away.
"Ah, ah ah. You two already had your lunch."

"How can you tell?" asked Roy mildly.

"Johnny's got mustard on his chin and you still have potato 
chip salt on your shirt." she grinned, handing over the pastries
to the Adam-12 pair. "See ya fellas.."

"Later, Dix.." they replied, walking out the ER door entrance
to return to their beat.


Roy and Gage got the chills. "Now I know why I became a fireman."
DeSoto said, refusing Dixie's silent offer of coffee.

"Oh? Why's that?" asked the frosted bunned nurse.

"Police work's just far too dangerous to monkey with. Joanne
made me promise years ago that I'd never consider becoming
one."

"Now firefighting's just as dangerous as police work, Roy." said
Gage.

"Not really. At least with firefighting. You can see the danger coming
and can avoid it." said Roy.

"Usually." Johnny agreed finally.

"Not in your case, Johnny Gage." replied Dixie, wide eyed."You've 
been banged up what? Six times already this past year. And I'm not 
counting the monkey virus nor that snake bite. Those were 
unavoidable consequences."

"In who's book, Dix?" Roy teased. "Not misplacing an HT could've 
prevented that bite and wearing a pair of rubber gloves could have 
made all the difference in the world whether or not that contagion took 
a hold."

"Now, Roy. Don't start in with that scene safety first and that body 
substance isolation lecture again with all that unnecessary glove 
wearing and stuff. I tell ya, adding those as permanent changes to 
our paramedic protocols is never gonna wash. I mean, that's like 
saying the art of mouth to mouth resuscitation's gonna become 
passe.  Not in a million--"

"Don't you get sick of getting all sticky and soiled head to toe 
on runs all the time?" Roy said, folding his arms over his elbows mildly 
in conversation.

"Well, yeah, sometimes it gets a little annoying changing out uniforms
so often. I only got four sets.." he grunted in consternation.

"This topic of conversation's absolutely rivetting gentlemen, but I've got
charts stacking up higher than my-"

"Sure, Dix. We were just leaving.." Roy said, grabbing Johnny's arm.
"We only wanted an excuse to get out of the station for a while. Cabin
fever don't you know." he grinned toothily.

Gage protested the whole way back to the squad. "Now, Roy. We could've
at least grabbed a cup of coffee.." he growled. "That wasn't polite leaving
her in the lurch like that."

"She wanted us to, Johnny. Didn't you get any of the hints thrown our
way?"

"Uh, what hints? I'm so wired I'm surprised I'm even seeing straight."
Johnny coughed.

"Then aren't you glad I got us out here again." Roy said, opening the
door for his partner and guiding his back inside the squad. "Coffee's
the last thing you need."

"Well, how about a chili dog at Max's? I'm starving.." Johnny said, putting
on his helmet.

"Max's it is.." Roy conceded, getting behind the wheel. "You're paying."

"Why am I paying? I thought I bought lunch for us both last time!"

"No you didn't. Your forgot your wallet at home. I-It ..it was the same morning 
you broke both your shoelaces.." DeSoto said, thrusting a finger out in
a telling gesture.

"Oh, yeah. Last Thursday. I always remember when I break my shoelaces."

"So do I. Because I'm the one who always has to hand ya some replacements."
Roy complained. "Geesh, I'm getting jittery and I haven't even had more than
ONE cup of coffee.."

"Want me to drive then?" Johnny said obliviously.

"No."

"Then buy us lunch and I'll shut up. Both actions'll be good for your nerves."
he told Roy, closing the maneuvering trap, that he'd been calculating and laying
down to spring upon DeSoto, all the way to Rampart.

Roy sighed a sigh of long suffering, feeling black. "All right. But I get a little
peace and quiet starting right--"

Beep! Beep! Beep!
##Squad 51. Stand by for a response. L.A. P.D. requests paramedic backup
at the corner of La Monte and Shelby. Details to follow en route.##

"Here we go!" hooted Johnny. "And we got one before the engine! I win
that bet, too. The guys haveta fix the dinner chow for us now and not the
other way around. Wa...Hoo."

"Wait a minute! Johnny, you got me involved in a chore bet that I didn't
even know about?"

Johnny nodded animatedly, eyes twinkled and bright.
"And we won. Doesn't it feel great?"

DeSoto glared at him for long seconds and then he let
out a long resigned sigh. "Silence is golden, huh.." Roy mumbled to 
himself as he turned the squad around from the hospital pull up and 
flicked on the red lights over their heads. "Why am I the only one who 
treasures that?"

"What?"

"Nothing. Put your helmet on." 

"Oh. ok." said Johnny a little too fast and it took a few
tries for him to fasten on the chin strap properly.

"You sure you don't need some Narcan or something?" Roy 
asked aloud.

Johnny gave him a dirty look. "I'm fine. This adrenaline rush 
I got from finally getting a call'll burn off all the coffee. Thanks
for caring about me, pally. " he said sarcastically. "But no
thanks."
 
"Suit yourself. And I'm going to be starting any I.V.s that might 
come up so ya won't be in danger of poking yourself."

"Fine." and Johnny clammed up, reaching for the notepad
to scribble down the tenative neighborhood address they
needed to reach. "I'll do the easy stuff just to please ya 
and to keep Cap on an even keel about me sneaking us 
off like this. He can't yell if I don't do anything wrong."

"And they say never to say MacBeth right before a performance."
whispered Roy.

------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
 
Dave was running full tilt, as fast as his blue and white Adidas could
carry him after the man running away from him.  His Smith and Wesson 
39- 9mm was out and pointed up to the sky in his right hand as he 
pounded the alley he was chasing through.

Ken had the red unmarked car with the red flashing dome light on top
speeding right on his heels.

"Metford! Give it up! We got ya surrounded!" Dave bellowed around 
painful sucking gasps of air that he pumped in and out of his chest as he
leaped over the trash in his way and around obstacles.

"Never copper!" said the man, turning and firing back from behind a telephone
pole.

Ken angled the car sideways and flung open a car door for his partner to
hide behind as the bullets riccocheted off the tin garbage cans around them.

Three shots from the sniper ex con spidered the windshield, making Ken
duck and swear. "Oh, man..! Not another window bill!"

"It could've been the paint job, buddy boy. Quit complaining."
said Dave to Ken as he curled up behind the car door. "Thanks for
getting me some cover."

"I wouldn't've had to if you hadn't gone off after the guy when
you knew he was armed to the hilt." spat Ken.

"Yeah, but that was only because I know Metford likes taking hostages. 
We're already too near the college campus to make me comfortable."

"If Metford was gonna take pot shots at the students, he would've
done so already, partner. Not just singed the hair off a few squirrels."

"Yeah well I don't like anything parallelling up to the Watch Tower 
Massacre of 1970. That day still leaves a real bad taste in my mouth."
Dave shored up a line of sight across the open window rim of
the door with a primal scream of frustration and he let loose a volley 
of shots that soon ended those winging back at them. He thought he
heard the sound of a body hitting concrete. "Got him!"

"Get in and I'll get us there." shouted Ken, peeling the rubber of
the red car in a squeal.

Dave dove into the front seat and slammed the door shut as
Ken smashed over a rack of garbage cans to get them there
faster.

Ken and Dave both threw the dome flashing car into park and dashed 
out of the car after divesting it of her keys in the direction they thought 
their shooter had gone in.

Dave puffed to a halt and went instantly pale as he neared the
spot that had echoed the sound of collapse they had both heard.
"Oh, g*d, no." he groaned, rushing forward to crouch over someone
lying in the scraps of paper and newsprint littering the alleyway.

It was a woman, with a fresh gush of blood coursing down her
left temple.

He dropped his gun in disgust after engaging its safety to reach
gingerly for the young woman's carotid while Ken jogged
a careful check around them looking for Metford. 

"He got away. D*mm*t!" Ken swore. Then he turned to crouch near 
his shaking partner.

"I shot her, Hutch. Ohmygod." said the curly haired detective.

"Who's to say that's a gunshot wound, Starsky? Quit snowballing
things. This girl was around the corner so how could your
shots've been anywhere near enough to score on her? Metford
could have done it just to get us to stop chasing him."

"There's enough metal around here t--"

"Shh.. Is she breathing?" Hutch asked, reaching for the still
woman's wrist.

"Uh,.."

"Tip her head back, without jarring her neck and have a listen. I'll
go call for an ambulance. She's still alive. Do you hear me Starsky?
She's alive. Do what you can to help her." Ken Hutchinson shouted.

Kenneth leaped toward the white striped tomato Gran Torino and snatched
up the radio mic. "Zebra 3. Zebra 3 to Headquarters. We've a woman
down in the alley at...." he looked around for roadsigns."...6th and
Parsons. Over. We've lost Metford! Roll all units in a point by
point grid search for him immediately!"

Nearly under the sheltering bumper of the white striped red orange car,
the other plain clothes detective was almost crying.
"Sweety? Can you hear me? Hang in there. We've got help
on the way. Just hold on. I've got you." begged a very frightened
David Starsky. 

Starsky felt a very poor answering gasp brush his cheek out of the 
girl's lips and he gripped her head even tighter when an unnatural
blue shade began covering her face. 

"No..don't die on me, miss. Come on.." and he began to give her 
fast breaths mouth to mouth to turn back some of the lifeless coloring 
he saw in her skin and eyes. "Hutch! Get down here and help me stop 
all this scalp bleeding. She's not trying to breathe for me anymore."

It wasn't long before Squad 51 heard from L.A. about the woman
down from a possible shooting.

---------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Photo:   Dixie with Jim Reed and Pete Malloy from Adam-12.

Photo: Dixie with Johnny and Roy at the ER desk.

Photo: Close of Pete Malloy.

Photo: Close of Jim Reed.

Photo:  Roy and Johnny leaving out the hospital entrance.

Photo:  A sniper, kneeling and shooting.

Photo: Dave and Ken in a red car chasing and pointing.

Photo:  Hutch and Starsky ducked behind the car.

Photo:  Starsky with gun up checking cautiously near
              the Gran Torino.

Photo: Starsky reacting seeing a woman on the ground,
             shot in the head.

Photo:  Hutch radioing out for help while peeking undercover.

****************************************************************
From :  Roxy Dee <laterrapincabesa@hotmail.com> 
Sent :  Friday, November 12, 2004 3:03 AM 
Subject :  Starsky Stresses 


Hutch reached into the back seat of the Torino 
and grabbed up his black street clothes duffle bag and 
tossed it onto the roof of the car. He snatched out a folded 
T shirt that lay within and ran with it back over to his partner 
working on the girl. "Ok, I got this.." he said, pressing the 
shirt gently against the gushing wound on her temple.

Starsky gave the woman another breath and the last
of the dusky cyanosis on her face disappeared a few
seconds later. "Her heartbeat's real slow, Hutch."

"I noticed that. Just keep going." Ken said. "Metford
was here. She's been roughed up. There's bruising
on her throat."

"A hostage who fought back?" Dave said after his
next breath.

"Probably. This doesn't look like a penetrating bullet 
wound or even a graze. There's no friction burns."

"Let's hope so or .............Captain Dobey's gonna kill 
me..............Temporarily blinding one girl once with a bullet
was ........................definitely enough for me partner." 

Quite suddenly, the girl gasped through her unconsciousness, 
as if breaking through a resistance.

Startled, Dave let go of her face. Then he caught hold of 
himself emotionally and started carefully relifting her jawbone so 
that the girl could breathe freely. "Hello. She's back.." he blurted 
out in his nervousness. 

"Good job." Hutch reached a hand around Starsky's to a neck 
pulse that wasn't under a bruise. "Pulse's still very slow."

"How's that bleeding?"

"I've got it controlled. She isn't losing any more."

"From there..." Starsky snorted.

"Yeah, well, the paramedics can figure out her other problems 
once they get here. Just keep up that airway hold."

"You don't have to tell me twice.." Dave said empathetically.
"Hey, miss.. Can you hear me?"

The woman twitched and started to moan, breathing shallowly
but well.

"Easy, hon. Don't try to move." said Hutchinson.

Welcoming sirens grew in the distance and the two plain clothes 
detectives could make out the familiar red outline of a Los
Angeles County Fire Department rescue squad heading into
their direction from the side street. They saw its front tires
thunk over the slight curve leading into the alleyway once they 
spotted the Torino and its red flashing light. They were aided 
on where to go by one or two officers in front of L.A. City black 
and whites starting to cordon off the area with crime tape.

"G*d I hope they remember their crime scene approach
protocols.." mumbled Starsky.

The driver of the rescue vehicle followed the Torino's
direction of travel and skid marks perfectly. 

"He has.." smiled Hutch. "At least this pair's smart enough
not to disturb anything." he raised his voice. "She's breathing
now! Semi conscious.." he yelled out to them. "So far, possible 
head and neck injury! We think she was in a struggle."

The two detectives watched as the paramedics gathered 
medical equipment that matched the situation, the 02 
apparatus, defib and EKG, a wooden long board and C collar, 
along with their usual biophone, drug and I.V. boxes.

The two paramedics hugged the chain link fence tightly,
off the beaten track, until they were even with the Torino,
then they cut over to the woman's side.

Johnny Gage immediately knelt down with a pen light
after setting a high flow oxygen mask over her nose and
mouth which Starsky held on manually. "Hi. I'm Johnny
Gage and this is my partner Roy DeSoto." he said to
the two police officers.

"Detective Ken Hutchinson.. Homicide. And my fretting, pale friend 
over there is Detective David Starsky. Also with Homicide." he 
teased, trying to make his partner more at ease with it all. "And
we're trying to prevent another one here in the girl."

Gage nodded. "I assume we're all safe now..and that we're 
not about to get our heads shot off by some crazed thug type?" 
Johnny asked quickly.

At that comment Dave cringed slightly, a subconscious 
gesture that only Hutch saw. "We're safe.." Starsky said quietly. 
"There's enough cops around here now to fill a barn."

"Ok. Just checking. Gimme some history on her, Detective.
But keep her head still just like you're doing." he ordered
Starsky.

"We think she was roughed up by a real low life with a history
of violence who was trying to get away from us. She may have
been in the middle of our exchanging gunfire."

"Male or female assailant?" Gage asked reasonably.

"Does it matter?! Just help her fellas. Fast." Dave flared sarcastically,
his adrenaline rush still making him jittery.

"It could. And we are." said Roy calmly. "Just take it easy. What you're 
doing is making a huge difference on how she's managing now.
But a few questions answered will let us provide care that targets her
medical problems quicker. So humor us a bit ok. She's stable now
from what I can tell so far." he said, taking a quick respiration count
with a hand on her stomach.

Johnny waggled his head in agreement as he slipped a cervical collar
around the girl's neck after a brief examination of the bruising Hutch
pointed out to him that was now taking the shape of a large man's
finger grips. "It was a man. She's been strangled. And this head wound's
probably the result of her being pistol whipped." he said, briefly lifting 
up the shirt Hutch was holding over her left temple. 

Starsky sighed in relief. "You sure about that?"

"Pretty sure.." Johnny said, smiling. "An x-ray will tell that for certain.
There's no bullet path cratering. I can see the edge of a gun grip's
impression on her skull where the skin's torn... Roy, negative on 
Coon's eyes or cerebral fluid out the nose or ears. Hmm, her pupils 
are equal, but sluggish."

"Late hypoxia? I'll ask Rampart if we can hyperventilate her with
that possible meningeal artery involvement.." he said pointing to the wound 
on the girl's head. "Dave, you can let go now. She's maintaining ok on her 
own and the collar'll keep her head and neck still. Dave? Did you
hear me?" Roy said a little louder.

"He answers better to Starsky.." Hutch said, slapping a free
hand against the dazed detective's arm. "Starsk.."

"Huh? Oh, ok." said Starsky, finally catching up on the 
conversation. He reluctantly let the girl go, and used part of Hutch's 
T shirt compress to wipe the girl's drying blood off of his hands.
"Sorry. I was...just thinking.."

"Yeah, about the ways we're gonna nail the b*st*rd who hurt
her." said Hutch.

"So right.." admitted the curly haired detective. "Uh,, she wasn't
breathing so hot when we got to her. Her face turned kinda blue."

"For how long?" Johnny asked, rechecking the flow of oxygen
to her mask for a good seal.

"Half a minute or so. I had to help her out for a few minutes. Then
all of the sudden, she sorta gasped ...like she only just then, caught 
her breath back." Dave said, trying to explain it well.

Roy grinned. "She probably got the wind knocked out of her. 
Happens sometimes when victims are shoved to the ground
hard enough by an attacker. "

"What about the strangling?" Hutch wondered. "Could that
have caused her to quit trying?"

"Most likely not. You said this man was running to get away
from you. He wouldn't have had time enough to suffocate her."

"But that is why her pulse's so slow." Gage added, taking a blood 
pressure."Roy, 64/40. Pulse's 42. Respirations still 18. Her carotid 
sinus must've been contused."

"Say what?" asked Starsky.

Johnny began to explain while Roy started cutting off the woman's sweater 
and pants. Both detectives averted their eyes and looked around anywhere 
but down in typical bystander self consciousness.

DeSoto noticed. "Here, cover her with this shock sheet once
I'm through. I'm just gonna look her over for a fast check for other 
injuries she might have."

He saw the detectives relax once he was through and had her
bundled up again, neck to toes, in the plastic blanket.

Gage went on.." .....the whole area inside the carotid artery
along the side of the neck's richly innervated with the sensory
bundles that regulate the body's blood pressure so that
it doesn't have wild swings one way or the other. Now hers
has been injured on one or both sides and that has brought on
vasovagal responses, that slow heart rate you felt and the low B/P
we're getting on her now."

"I see.." said Starsky, clearly not understanding the jargon.
"But she will get over it?" he pressed.

"Eventually." Roy said of the carotid sinus syncope syndrome.

Starsky smiled in relief.

Gage rubbed his chin. "...It also depends on what her 
head injury involves, too. That laceration of hers is very
large."

Starsky's grin turned into a frown as he sagged in relief
into Hutch's arms. "At least she wasn't shot. Namely by
me. Oh, Hutch. I don't think I could've lived through that
again. Thank heavens for small mercies."

Both paramedics exchanged puzzled looks but then 
they politely ignored the detectives' private conversation
while they got busy with the rest of the woman's patient care.

All four of them heard a light cough and right then,
the woman's eyes fluttered open.

------------------------------------------------------------------------

Photo:   Starsky and Hutch asking questions in a closeup.

Photo:  The torino pulled over on a city street.

Photo:  The squad in an alleyway shed.

Photo:   Roy and Johnny giving care to a victim on the ground.

Photo:   Starsky, Hutch, DeSoto and Gage with the woman
              on the ground with a backdrop of palm trees and white sky.

**********************************************************************
From: "Patti" <theaterhost@voyagerliveaction.com> 
Date: Wed, 17 Nov 2004 14:08:06 -0800 (PST) 
Subject:  [EmergencyTheaterLive] Complications 


Johnny Gage bent close to the woman's face, holding her shoulders 
to prevent their muzzy patient from trying to sit up. "Hey there. Can you 
hear me? What's your name? Can you tell me that?"

The girl groaned wetly, closing her eyes, still coughing weakily.

Gage moved the O2 mask aside and cross scissored her mouth open, 
using her teeth, looking for blood or any other fluid that might be there. He 
accepted an active suction line that Roy shoved over to him with a foot but 
Johnny soon found that it wasn't needed.

"Nothing's here, Roy. Her airway's doing fine. Ma'am? Hey! Can you answer 
me?" Johnny asked again, letting go of her mouth.  He dug several  
knuckles into her breastbone. 

The girl immediately shoved his hand away with only her left arm and her face 
screwed up at the painful rub. "*choke* Ugghh.." and she took a deep breath 
from the mask Starsky replaced back onto her face. "Aaaah..." she sobbed. 
"My...hea..d-d.."

Johnny rocked back onto his heels. "I know. Easy. Just lie still. Can you tell me 
what happened?"

" I...mmmgh.." and fright suddenly filled her dirt crusty eyes as the rest of the 
woman's words faded into incoherency.

"Just try to relax. My name's Johnny Gage and I'm a Los Angeles County paramedic. 
We're gonna take real good care of you, all right? Keep holding still until I can 
check you out a little better. Tell me where your pain is besides your head. Can you 
tell me that?"

The woman, looking groggy and heavily stunned, didn't reply, but tears leaked 
out of the corner of one of her eyes as she finally tracked Johnny's.

"You're still waking up a bit. Don't be scared. Try and take as many deep full breaths 
from this oxygen as you can, ok? It'll help you focus a little better." Gage suggested to 
her as he rechecked the status of her pupils. "I'm just gonna take another look here 
with a flashlight to see how you're doing. Just relax."

Hutch picked up the girl's cut away clothes and started searching for a wallet in 
a jeans pocket. He found one. "I've got a name. Mary Malone. Age 22 from 
14 North Crescent in Anaheim. The photo I've got here matches her in a 
positive I.D. Starsky, California driver's license." he told the paramedics and 
his partner. "There's also a student's pass here to the University down the block."

Gage nodded while Roy called Rampart Base on the biophone.

After a half minute or so of watching Mary take breaths under the mask, 
Gage spoke again. "Mary. Talk to me now. Do you hurt anywhere else 
besides your head?"

Johnny noticed that she was growing more and more agitated. Finally,
her lips opened and she let out a fully coherent sentence. But it wasn't
a reply to his insistent question. It was about something else entirely
different. "...Tob... He's... Toby?!" she started calling out. "Where  are  
y---!?"

"Toby? Who's Toby? Mary! Take it easy. Don't move around so much. 
You're gonna hurt yourself!" Johnny grunted, keeping her shoulders pinned 
and immobile while Hutch kept firm hands across her forehead and over 
the dressing on top of the gaping wound ripped open on her temple.

"Mary..." Hutch started in, being closest. "Who's Toby? Easy hon. Just 
answer the question without fighting us.."

"My...my son.  He took him.." she cried frantically. "Ohmyg*d. That man 
had a gun!" and she started wailing and struggling in her panic. Johnny 
and Hutch both restrained her tightly.

Starsky took the wallet Hutch had dropped on the ground and leafed 
through its photograph section. He found several of a young boy with blond 
hair. "There's a couple photos of a kid in here,.... about four years old. He 
looks a lot like Mary. I'll put out an APB." and he got up to radio headquarters 
from the Torino.

Hutch nodded and then he looked down once more."Mary.. Mary! Lie still! 
We've got nearly a dozen police officers in the area and we'll look for him 
immediately. But you've got to start cooperating with the paramedics here so they
can start treating you! I'm Detective Hutchinson and I promise you that I'll do 
everything I can to find your son, but my first concern right now is you, and your 
injuries. Let these firemen get you to a doctor and to some help at the hospital. The 
best way for me to help find your son is for you to start answering their questions 
about what happened to you, ok?"

Mary Malone went limp, sobbing in resignation. "Please...I'll do anything you ask. 
Just find my little boy...."

Hutch sighed and so did Gage. Ken let go of the T shirt over Mary's temple. 
"The bleeding's pretty much stopped here. I'm letting go." he told Johnny. "I've
gotta go help my partner get out that possible kidnapped hostage bulletin. I'll 
be right back to help you with Mary's spine board. I'll also make
sure an ambulance is well on the way."

Johnny nodded to the fair haired policeman and got to work over Mary.
"Thanks, Detective Hutchinson."

"Please, call me Hutch. It's easier, Mr. Gage."

"O.k.." replied Johnny. "I'll remember that." 

Ken got up and joined Starsky by the Gran Torino and a couple of other 
officers who were heading up the grid search for the rifle armed Metford.
He also helped Starsky give Captain Dobey a preliminary report
of the chase and circumstances surrounding the girl's assault,
over their car phone.

Johnny bent close to Mary's face once more, wrapping a Coban elastic 
wrap around her head to hold the blood soaked T shirt and dressings 
into firm place against her temple. "How are you doing, Mary?"
 
"I...feel so dizzy, sir..."

Gage smiled at her. "Well then it's a good thing you're still lying down 
now, isn't it? How's your neck?" he added quickly.

"Sore."

"How about back here?" he said, gently feeling the bones in the back 
from the base of her skull and down to the top of her shoulders.

"It hurts just in front where he grabbed me. The left side of my neck's 
burning." and she pointed over the biggest of the angry fingermarks 
wrapping around there.

Gage checked gently for equality on both carotid pulses with a
couple of fingers. "Can you still breathe all right? Is your throat swelling 
up at all?"

"No.. I think its ok. It's just my head. It hurts real bad." she gasped.

"On a scale of 1 to 10, if one's nothing and 10's the worst, where's your 
pain right now, Mary?" Johnny asked.

"A  nine.."

"Are you nauseated?"

"Yes.."

"Ok, just let me know if you think you're gonna get sick and we'll tip you 
over."

"O.k.." and she grimaced rubbing her right arm with her left hand.

"What's wrong?" Johnny asked.

"I.. can't pick up my arm."

"This one here?" he said, gripping her hand on that side.

"Yeah.. it feels ...kinda tingly and numb."

Johnny got both her palms in both of his. "Squeeze my hands. Hard
as you can." he encouraged her.

He noticed her grip was weak but still there on the right
but her ability to keep her arm uplifted above her, was absent.

He moved down to test both her legs' strength, moving the
shock sheet aside.  "Ok, can you feel me touching you
down here?" he said pulling out a scissors point and tapping
her shins and the tops of both her feet.

Mary nodded yes.

Johnny put the scissors back into his hip holster.

"All right. Push both feet down onto both my hands. Ok, good. Now try and 
lift your legs against my holding them down, hard as you can. Good. That's 
fine." He looked for a Babinski's. Her toes curled down to his forceps point 
sweep check, normally, on both sides. 

"I'm ticklish." she said, trying to smile. The grin was nonexistent on the left 
side of Mary's face.

"Sorry." Gage grinned, looking up. He didn't miss seeing
the face droop and he didn't alarm Mary by mentioning it.

He went on to get a full medical history, which he wrote down onto a 
small tablet with his neurological findings. Gage handed it to his partner.

Roy had reached a physician through the biophone line. 
"Rampart. We've a  22 year old female. Victim of an assault. She's got 
a large left temple wound due to a blunt force blow to the head. Bleeding 
has been controlled. I estimate her blood loss at under 500 cc's.
Rampart, it seems she was a victim of a near strangling.

"She was respiratory arrested for a couple of minutes but was aided
by a bystander to spontaneous recovery. She's now awake and oriented 
to 12 on the Glasgow on 15 liters of O2. There's signs of non invasive 
crushing injury to the soft tissues of the neck. She's complaining of marked 
tenderness in the left anterior throat without airway distress. She's been 
cervical spine immobilized. Apparent restlessness has proved to be
emotional in nature.

"She's positive for vasovagal signs. Carotid pulses are equal. BP 
initially was depressed at 64/40. Pulse's now 50 beats a minute, up 
from 42,  and regular. Respirations are 18 and shallow. Pupils were 
equal and reactive, but sluggish, when we first arrived, but now the ipsilateral 
side's dilated. She has contralateral hemiparesis of only her right arm with 
partial sensation and face drooping on the left. Negative on Babinski's. 

"There's no indication of further injuries or allergies. Nor does she have 
a prior history of medical problems. She's negative for any medications."

Dr. Early replied back. 

## Start a large bore I.V., 51, of Normal Saline. Run in 500 ml's to offset her 
carotid hypotension. Then turn the intravenous to TKO. Give her mannitol 
IV 1 g/kg in a rapid push once you're in transit. After she's been long board 
immobilized, raise her head up. Closely watch for signs of a deteriorating 
consciousness level.  If she develops Cushing's, administer 1.0 mg/kg of 
Lidocaine slow IVP.  Use 5mg diazepam for any agitation.

##If her Glasgow drops below 8, hyperventilate her, 51, and make preparations 
for a rapid sequence induction ET intubation.  I'll advise you on what to use for
a paralytic agent.

##Give her .5 mgs atropine IV for that bradycardia. Get a strip for me, 51, I want 
to look for any arrythmias. Monitor her vital signs every five minutes and transport 
as soon as possible, without sirens, to prevent possible seizures.##

Roy repeated back all of Joe's orders and then he and Johnny, along with 
the two plain clothes detectives, got Mary situated onto a backboard.

A minute later, the Hearse ambulance arrived and Mary was gurney
loaded onto it with DeSoto and all the gear boxes. They used the squad's 
splint box turned onto one side to lift up the spine board's head end 30 
degrees.  Roy repeated to Gage. "Johnny. Doc wants silent mode in."

"Ok.." said Johnny, putting on his helmet onto his head.

Starsky looked at DeSoto, holding the ambulance door so the paramedic 
wouldn't have to shut it himself. "Traffic's not gonna do anything to get out 
of the way with just your ambulance reds flashing by themselves."

"We've no other choice in the matter. Mary has to stay perfectly quiet 
and calm. She's got an active intracranial bleed ongoing and any further 
excitement, like loud noises, are liable to complicate things for her." 
answered Roy.
 
"Mr. DeSoto, you have an alternative. We'll go ahead of the ambulance. 
Our siren faces forwards and isn't heard past the rear of our car. Now 
where's the girl headed?" Hutch asked, his question sounding more like 
a demand.

"Rampart General Hospital in Torrance." said Roy.

"Let see, that's.. 6th to Ventura Freeway North, to 101 North to 226th 
Street. Hang a right... Right?" Starsky asked the paramedic quickly 
after his mental map drawing. 

"Yeah, that's the shortest route. And if I can't talk ya out of an escort, I'll 
take it." DeSoto grinned and got on board the ambulance. 

"We gotta go anyway to talk to Mary for more details before she heads 
into surgery. We may not get another chance to learn from her about what 
actually happened if she doesn't make it." Hutch said grimly.  

Roy frowned when his hidden paramedic worry was stated so openly.
"If Mary's got just an epidural hematoma, she's got every chance in the world
to survive it. The neurosurgeons at Rampart are absolutely the best
surgeons around these parts."

"DeSoto, we're counting on them to do their d*mned*st to save her.
Those doctors, and my partner and I, are little different. Little Toby's now 
counting on the both of us,...to save HIM." said Hutch with conviction, 
meeting Roy's blue eyes evenly with his own.

"Let's go. Time's wasting." said Starsky gently. "Be sure to let that attendant 
know that he's following our unmarked police car. It's the striped candy apple
over there."

Roy nodded. "I'll let him know."

Hutch shut the door until it latched. He then patted the glass to let the driver 
know that he could start turning around back towards the main drag.

Starsky sprinted ahead to the Torino to precede him in the same move.
Then he picked up his partner in a spin of tires and dust and soon, the 
siren blaring Torino and silent, lights only running squad and ambulance, were off 
to Rampart as fast as Starsky and Hutch could scatter the city traffic.


In route, Roy set up an EKG tracing off Mary. She had fallen into
a litany of calling out her son's name. She no longer opened her
eyes to Roy's questions nor followed any of his suggestions.

Roy picked up the phone. "Rampart this is Squad 51, how
do you read?"

##Go ahead, 51.##

"Our victim's LOC is 9. Stand by for a Lead Two and vitals."

##Standing by.##

The paramedic sent on the telemetry to Dr. Early and
waited, biting his lip. Roy picked up his HT to Johnny. 
"HT 51 to Squad 51."

##This is Squad 51.## answered Gage driving behind
the ambulance.

"She's slipping into unconsciousness. We might have
to pull over for that intubation before we get there."

##10-4, 51. Watching out for a curbside. I'll let the detectives 
know that we might emergency halt on their Tach Two. ##

---------------------------------------------------------------------------
In the striped Torino, Starsky had one eye on the ambulance
behind them and the other on the road. He shouted to 
a slow driver in front of him. "Come on, buddy! Move it!"
he shouted, hanging his badge out the open car window
for the startled motorist to see. "What part of the color
red don't ya see?! Maybe this badge'll talk better!"

Hutch ducked down in embarrassment. "Starsky, go easy on them. 
Scaring the other drivers'll only make'em slower in pulling out of our way. 
We're making good time. I estimate Rampart's only three minutes away."

"More like six minutes, Hutch. Did you forget the seven o'clock coal train 
already? I'm speeding because we're a minute away from it cutting us off 
at the pass. Look over there buddy boy." and he pointed out to their left, 
where two city blocks sideways from their own position, the guard rails 
of the train crossing intersection, were already lowering and flashing red.

Rows of cars were damming up in front of them in anticipation of
their own street's train rails coming down. 

Then Gage's transmission about Mary's potential future ambulance 
emergency stop came over the radio through their police dispatcher. 

"O.K. Nobody's stopping for anything else that's as unnecessary as
a freight train here." said Starsky and he drove onto the sidewalk to get 
around the halting cars. Then he threw the Torino into a sharp left onto the 
railroad tracks wooden rails as he waved on the ambulance and squad to 
start coming towards the tracks normally, via the street.

Starsky jerked the wheel and spun the Torino sideways until the locomotive
conductor was sure to see the red car obstructing his way. He pounded
on the dashboard happily when he heard the blast of the train's klaxon bite 
down in rapid succession and when blue sparking arcs started to fly as
the train's emergency brakes were frantically applied.

Hutch paled, seeing that his passenger door was the side facing
the oncoming train. "Starsky, what the h*ll are you doing?!" he
shouted in a high panicked voice.

"Slowing him down. The gates won't flash for our street 
until he's an eighth of a mile away. Remember your train stats? 
I'm buying us an extra thirty seconds. At least." said Starsky.

"You're crazy! Are you sure you didn't jam the tires into the rocks?!
We might not be able to work free again in time."

The smile of success faded from Starsky's face into a white wash.

Until he tested the stick and the forward and reverse gears until the 
Torino rocked in response comfortably. "We're not stuck, Hutch. And 
we only gotta stay here long enough for the squad and ambulance to 
work past the traffic jam and get past that R/R crossing. Then we 
can rocket outta here.."

Hutch just stared at his partner and back at the oncoming train again
in a panicked flurry of glances. "St...ar..sk..That train's going over 
forty miles an hour!" he shouted.

"Just a few.....seconds.....more..." said Starsky, watching the  
intersection crossing the avenue they had just left for the Hearse ambulance
and rescue squad, in the rear view mirror. "There goes Mary.." he 
wiped his hands on his jeans. Then he started to re-grip the Torino's
steering wheel, ignoring Hutch's shouts of alarm.

The train's next horn blare all but split their eardrums.  

"StarskyyyYYY!" said Hutch.

"....and there goes Johnny..." said the curly haired detective with a 
crow of delight. "They did it.." he laughed, highly pleased. "They beat the train!"
Then he caught sight of the immense train bumper scoop and a whole lotta 
of steam boiling down on them less than ten yards away from Hutch's
passenger door.

Hutch was scared into completely frozen immobility.

"GaahhhHH!" gasped Starsky and he punched the gas pedal to the metal 
with all the strength he had in his leg. The Torino scooted off the tracks mere 
feet before the train barrelled by in a high speed squeal of sparking brakes.
He caught the barest glimpse of its terrified train conductor before the 
young stripe hatted man in the locomotive was swept past and then
beyond them.

Clouds of dust roared into the detectives' car in an angry wind and
made both men cough and choke violently.  When the dust
cleared, they both eyeballed each other from underneath a thick coating
of grit and sand. The dusty assault had snapped Hutch out of his freeze. 
"....Starsk... if ..you ...ever...." he began, holding up a now trembling
finger. Then he sneezed.

"I promise. I won't. Not ever again. Hey, let's catch up with them now, 
Hutch. I can still see them on the merge ramp leading onto the freeway."
And he spun the car's tires until they dug them off the soft soil of
the intertracks and back onto a sidewalk. He cut over onto the merge
lane and boiled up onto the freeway in long peels of noisy rubber.
A plume of dust accented their departure from the car's interior.

Belatedly, Hutch fastened himself tightly into his seat's lap belt.
"I should turn you in for reckless endangerment Starsky! I'm sure
the captain will LOVE to hear about this latest stunt." he said,
trying to brush off the dust coating his tan leather jacket in vain.

"How can you rat on me? It'll have no credibility at all. There were no 
witnesses visible for the last fifteen seconds. The dust cloud was too big 
for anyone to see through."

"I saw everything just fine with perfect one hundred percent 
clarity. That's all I'll need you big lummox!"

"You mean you'd doom our six year long partnership to a dissolvement? 
Hutch I'm thoroughly surprised at you. I only made that move to save a risk to
a life. Mary's."

"By risking ours?!"

"I had everything perfectly under control."

"Let me tell you something Starsky. If you wanna go around rescuing
lives, do it with your Wesson 39-9mm. You're far better at shooting than
you are at playing chicken."

"I am?"

"Yes."

"Oh."

Hutch was still fuming when he killed the siren long enough for them 
to slide past the speeding squad and ambulance to get back into the
leading escort position they had before the train crossing. 
"Or better yet. Why don't you join the firehouse guys to do that sort
of thing and work it out of your system?!" he snarled angrily.

"You know, that's not such a bad idea, Hutch. All this ambulance
and emergency medical stuff's addicting." And he flipped their forward
siren back on with a fancy florish. "I wonder if those two paramedics' 
stationhouse ever takes on police volunteers...." 

Hutch just stared at his partner in utter disbelief. "I was kidding,
Starsky."

"I don't think I was." Starsky replied back, keeping tabs on their
two tails in the rear mirror. "When I was a kid, I always dreamed of
becoming a fireman."

"You've got the wrong kind of badge for that kind of work. Forget
about it."

"Guess you're right, Hutch. Ah, here's our exit." And he calmly
signalled his right hand turn off the freeway.

----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
##Did you see that, Roy?## Gage came over DeSoto's HT.

"See what, Johnny?" answered Roy over his radio 
as he counted Mary's pulse at her carotid.  The woman had quieted 
significantly verbally and had accepted a simple nasopharyngeal airway 
without a fuss. So far, her Glasgow rating was staying a solid 9.

##That police car. It just took on a train so we could get across.##

"I hadn't noticed. Mary's fair. Still a 9. And Joe's still going over
her EKG. She's showing inverted T waves, and non-specific ST 
depressions. Pressure's rising."

##How high?##

"In the hundreds palpated. She's still breathing ok. I put
a nasal airway in and she took it."

##Keep me posted.##

"I will."

##See you at the entrance. We're gonna make it in without
that stop.##

"That's my call, too. Whatever those detectives did back 
there bought Mary a whole lot of time."

##I'm sure they knew that, doing it. Man, I wish I could've
become a policeman. Seems like a d*mned fun profession.
I wonder if their department ever takes on fireman ride alongs.##

"Policemen are useful sometimes, Johnny. But a lot of them
are hot headed risk takers who'll do anything for the shortest
outcome. They're not your kind of people."

##Who says? I won't know if I don't try..##

"I've never heard of volunteer fire in a police station."

##Oh. That's too bad, Roy. I'll see you in one.##

Soon, the Torino, ambulance and rescue squad were lined up
at the emergency entrance and powered down. 

Mary Malone was quickly bustled inside to Dixie awaiting there.

-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Photo:   Hutch on the radio mic in the Torino. Starsky driving.

Photo:   A Hearse ambulance. Stuck in traffic.

Photo:   *animated* A freight train passing a crossing at night.

Photo:   Hutch panicking in the car with Starsky.

Photo:   Johnny driving the squad.

Photo:   Roy on the biophone in the ambulance looking
              at his watch. 

******************************************************************************
From:  "Cory Anda" <andacory@h...> 
Date:  Mon Nov 22, 2004  7:11 pm 
Subject:  Hallway Duty


"Treatment 3." said Dixie quickly as she took the hanging I.V. from
Roy DeSoto's hand so he could manage his chattering HT radio. 
The two other men, she recognized as police detectives. " Gentlemen, 
Dr. Early's called for a neurosurgeon and I'll be the one helping you fill 
out your crime report after we're through examining Mary. Johnny, 
could you stick around and help x-ray out with her films? I've already set 
out an extra lead apron."

"Sure, Dix."

"How's she breathing?" Joe Early asked as Gage and DeSoto wheeled
Mary's gurney into the indicated room. 

"All right." Roy replied. "Still reacting to pain on both sides of her body. 
All except that one arm. She was talking a minute ago, but now she's
 just mumbling." And the three of them disappeared inside the treatment 
room.

Detective Hutchinson sped up his walk until he was parallel with Dixie.
"Ma'am. Is there any way my partner and I could ask Miss Malone a few
questions? She's not unconscious yet."

"That's seriously doubtful." Dixie said, as she whirled to prevent the two 
men from entering after Mary and the two paramedics when they tried to 
follow them. "Excuse us. We've films to get and then she's going straight 
into a ward for an immediate craniotomy."

She nodded to the two policemen she had anticipated needing to thwart
the detectives' meddling, to stand fast on either side of Mary's door.

"Miss.....McCall." said Starsky after reading Dixie's name tag 
quickly.  "You don't understand the urgency of the situation! Malone's four 
year old little boy has been kidnapped by her attacker and only Mary 
knows the critical details.  This'll only take a couple of minutes. If she dies 
before we find out anything...."

Dixie's hand slammed into the frame of the treatment room's door.
"She'll die for certain if you two delay us or her treatment for even a minute..." 
she snarled.  "Please! Go sit down in the waiting room! If she says anything 
during her exam and stabilization, I'll send Johnny or Roy out here to let you 
know about it!" 

The richly varnished set of doors swung shut into their faces. 

Starsky was about to go barging in after Dixie, when Hutch grabbed 
his shoulders, and stopped him. 

Starsky knocked his hands away. "What are you doing?" he said with a 
low warning glare. "You know we've gotta get her side of it for the boy's sake."

"Starsky. Think about it. Just how much could Mary've learned from Medford 
during the brunt of the attack? He was strangling her."

"Adrenaline sometimes does some pretty powerful things on memory, partner. 
I'm banking on Mary having had a total recall effect because of her mother's 
instinct firing off for her child's protection." and he started to push on the doors 
around Hutch's larger frame.

The two very large officers started to tense up their well muscled arms.

Hutch once again prevented his smaller partner from moving. "Don't, Starsk. 
Be happy. We've managed to save Malone long enough for the doctors to 
get their shot at finishing the job.  Let's go grab a cup of coffee."

"No way in h*ll, Hutch. I'm not getting the wool pulled over my eyes 
by skipping an interview with another material witness against Metford again. 
Not this time. We lost the last one when he died on the surgical table."

"I insist." said Hutchinson, spinning his partner around toward the front
reception desk of Emergency's ward. "Sorry officers. He's a bit gung ho
when it comes to cracking female victimization cases.  Come on, Starsky.
I smell coffee brewing over here and you look like you could seriously use 
some right about now."

Starsky let himself be herded, finally realizing that he should retreat 
rather than embarrass them both with a public scuffle with two fellow 
policemen. Then he shivered. "I am kinda cold."

"Stress'll do that." said Hutch matter of factly, grinning at the nurses
who hurried by them, going about their business. He absently patted  
Starsky's shoulder reassuringly as he guided him away from Mary's
room and the two head nurse appointed guards. "We've been hunting 
Metford down like an animal for ...what? Two days straight?"

"Three. I remember that because that's how long it's been since  
either of us got any sleep." Starsky grumbled unhappily. Then
he shrugged out of Hutch's grip, cooperating at last, and he adjusted
his brown leather jacket back into comfortable place around his fatigue
slumped shoulders.

"Homicidal maniacs always give us a run for the money. It's the price we 
haveta pay before we get to nab the bad guy." Hutch reasoned. "Haven't
you ever noticed that?"

"No." Starsky reached out an arm in a grab and collapsed his weary butt on an 
empty gurney stored along the side of the hospital hallway with a sigh, before 
they had even walked thirty steps. He toppled over onto his side, nesting a cheek 
on an elbow and then he closed his eyes. "Wake me when those two fire monkeys 
get back out here, Hutch. I want a decent prognosis on Mary for Captain Dobey 
a.s.a.p. You know how he makes our life a living h*ll until he hears the final results 
or at least some decent progress news on any of our felony cases."

"That may take a while. They've got to clear her C-spine before they
can even move her."

"That's ok by me. Why don't you grab the other end of the bed and lie down. 
This feels....absolutely....divine...."  he murmured sleepily, curling up under 
the wheeled gurney's antiseptically clean white sheet.

"Starsky?" Hutch inquired, staying on his feet. "I don't think you should 
be doing that.. I mean, what if it gets busy later and they need this stretcher?"

A loud snore peeled immediately from Starsky's lax face. 

"Starsk?"

There was no answer.

Hutch finally yawned uncontrollably and then he gave in to a mild grin. "All 
right. I guess you deserve a nap, pal. Looks like we've a long night ahead of 
us." he said angling Starsky's chin, so he slept silently without noise.

To keep nosy hospital staff at bay, Hutch threw the sheet over his partner's
face, took over a chair, and snatched up a magazine to read. Then he sat 
next to Starsky's gurney as if on a corpse watch.  

The shining detective's badge that he put out on his shirt's lapel kept anyone 
from asking any questions about either the man shaped lump under the 
crisply pressed sheeting on the bed, or him.

-----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Photo:   An x-ray of a linear skull fracture with a parietal epidural hemorrhage.

Photo:   Hutch muscling up two guards in front of a hospital room door
              as Starsky watches.

Photo:   Dixie inside a treatment room in front of a centesis tray.

Photo:   Dr. Joe Early frowning beside a surgical emergency door.

******************************************************************* 
Date: Tue, 23 Nov 2004 15:20:34 -0800 (PST) 
From: "Jeff Seltun" <finiterider@yahoo.com>    
Subject:  The Lead.. 


Dr. Brackett was already in the Treatment Room on the phone.
"Joe, I've got an anesthesiologist coming right now to get
her squared away with an endotrach tube."

"Thanks, Kel." said Joe as he began a funduscopic exam on
Mary. "The sooner the better. There's retinal petecchiae in
evidence."

"Intracranial changes?" Dr. Brackett offered.

Joe nodded. "At the very least, a linear skull fracture. I'm feeling a crack
that's non depressed right along her parietal bone just above the left ear. 
With that same side dilated pupil and partial hemiparesis that Roy found, 
I'll bet there's a strong possibility that she's got an active epidural bleed 
going on." 

"No bet." said Kel. Then he turned to Dixie while he continued waiting for
the X-ray tech to lay out the lateral and frontal cranial film series on the light board.
"Dix, I want you to set up a foley before she hits the OR. Take care of that once
she's under and intubated. Also draw blood for electrolytes, blood urea nitrogen, 
creatinine, glucose, a complete blood cell count with platelets, prothrombin time, 
activated partial thromboplastin time. Have the lab do a toxicology screen and 
serum alcohol level and get a blood type and crossmatch. Her chart's not up from 
records yet." said Brackett. 

"Right away, Kel." and she went to the wall phone in the back of the room.

He moved to the woman's right side and uptook her hand and fingers. 
"Johnny, what's her pressure?"

"It's up, Dr. Brackett. 150/98. Respirations are only ten now. The heart 
rate you already know." he said pointing to the audible cardiac monitor
that they all could hear pacing off a slow beat.

Joe completed his physical check of Mary's head and he moved to
her legs to test their reactions with a reflex hammer. He looked up
when the anesthesiologist arrived with his equipment.

Brackett pressed his thumbnail on top of Mary's middle finger nail bed, 
sliding it along until his clicked over the end of hers at the finger tip. The
rest of Mary's fingers on that hand flexed, transiently exaggerated. "Joe,
I've a positive Hoffman's response."

"Both sides?"

Kel checked. "Yes."

Dr. Early frowned. "That means there's a problem at C5 or above
in addition to her head injury."

"Good thing she was collared." Dr. Brackett said. "Did you get cervical
plates, too?"

"Yeah, they're almost set. Hang on."

"Mike. Get her ready, fast. Cushing's is just around the corner." Kel
said to the anesthestist.

Right then, Mary moaned. Roy, by her right side, leaned in close. 
"Mary... can you hear me? The doctors are right here. They're gonna
take real good care of ya. We're at the hospital now."

Mary got more agitated, as if feeling Dixie's tap for the lab's arterial blood,
and she started to fidget restlessly. "Tttt----Ttttoobbbb "

"Keep her down." Brackett warned the two paramedics to hold her
still. He drew up a 3 mg syringe of pentobarbitol and injected it into Mary's
I.V. "Mary. Mary. Listen to me. You hurt your neck when you hit the
ground. It's very important for you to lie as still as you can and don't move."

"TTttttt---oob. Money's on the dress...e..r. Tooower's  Plaazzz-zz."

"Shhh.." Kel soothed holding her forehead. "Don't try to talk. We've
given you some medication to relax you."

"Brrrrriing....ittt  th---"  Mary's face slacked off with a sigh as Brackett's
sedative took effect and she quit fighting actively. 

Mike deftly took out the nasopharyngeal airway and 
suctioned the blood and saliva out of her mouth and nose. 

He prepared for an in-line intubation with the endotrach airway tube he 
had ready to place. He nodded to Kel to signal that he was ready for the 
doctor to inject the second syringe full of succinylcholine to paralyze her 
the rest of the way until her breathing stopped.

Gage pulled the sheet down so the anesthesiologist could see her
chest for landmarks and its eventual rise for when the ventilator was turned 
on. He read off the numbers on the billows gauge. "She's got 
mild hypocapnea..   I'm reading,...30- 35 mm Hg, doc."

"That's fine, Johnny.." said Joe Early. "That carbon dioxide level will
prevent any severe vasoconstriction and it'll eliminate her existing cerebral 
ischemia. Do you have good breath sounds yet for Mike, Roy?"
he asked as the tube doc finished his work.

Roy listened carefully over both of Mary's lungs and her stomach
with the stethoscope he still had around his neck.
"There's no gastric gurgling. You've got your placement right first time." 
he shared. Mike nodded and taped off the breathing tube so it wouldn't 
move around during her transit into surgery.

"Ok, let's go. Dixie, make sure the lab results and those X-rays meet
up with us while we scrub up. We'll stall with starting Mary's tapping
burr holes as long as we can."

Dixie nodded as the two paramedics bundled Mary up again in
warm heated blankets and helped the orderlies gather all her
tubes and IV from around the wheeled bird vent.

-----------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Hutch rose immediately from his chair hopefully, as Mary was wheeled
out into the hallway. But his smile died when he saw that she
was tubed and not breathing on her own, hooked up to a machine.

"Do you need us any more, docs?" Gage asked Joe Early and Kel Brackett
from alongside her bed.

"We got it from here." Kel said, helping to keep Mary's airway from jostling.

"Tell those two detectives we'll give them a call as soon as Mary hits the
Recovery Unit." Joe added as they put some fast distance between
them.

"Will do.." said Roy and the two fire paramedics slowed their pace as
the surgical entourage entered the metal doored elevator.

Hutchinson met up with them as the doors snicked shut on the sight of
Mary's pale, still face. "Gentlemen? Did she speak anymore?"

"Hmm?" Gage said, looking up thoughtfully. "Oh, oh.oh. Uh. Let me
think back. We really had our hands full. Uhhhh. She was
really worried about her son, Toby." he offered.

"Yeah, she called out his name a few times." Roy agreed. "And..and
and.. she mentioned something about some money.."

"About what money?" said Hutch starting to walk back down the hall
to where he had been reading. The two firemen followed, next
to him.

Gage blinked a few times. "She didn't specify.. but 
I think she said something like, 'It's on the dresser.' "

"Yeah, and about a place that it had to go to." DeSoto frowned, rubbing
his head wearily.

"Did she give an address?" Hutch asked, pausing by the gurney along the
wall.

"Not exactly. We had a hard time making it out." Roy admitted.
"She was getting doped up pretty good by that point. It was
just a few syllables."

"Where?" asked Hutch amicably.

"Well,... it sounded like Tauser's Pass or... Tower's...Pl..." Gage
broke off, trying to remember.

Hutchinson snapped his fingers. "Tower's Plaza?"

"Yeah, that might have been it..." Roy nodded.

"Thanks fellas. We'll get right on it."

Gage stopped Hutch before he turned away again.
"Uh, who's we? I don't see your partner around here anywhere."

Hutch took his radio out of his pocket and said, "Zebra 3 to
Headquarters. We've a lead on the Malone kidnapping. Tell
Captain Dobey to call us on our automobile phone in two minutes.
We're headed to Mary's residence right now. Come on, Starsk, rise 
and shine..." he said, tickling something on the gurney. "We've a 
ransom to deliver."

Johnny Gage startled badly when the "body" moved and became
Detective Starsky pulling off the sheet in a tangle of bleary panic.

Roy steadied Gage as the two hastily departing detectives 
ran quickly down the hallway for the ambulance doors. "Easy,
pal. Don't have a coronary. We've got that dinner bet to collect
on, so don't die of fright on me. I don't wanna work that hard."

"D-dd-ddid you see that?" Gage said, breathing fast and pointing
down the hall. "Why'd they pretend a body was a sleeping guy like
that? What a nasty trick."

Roy shrugged mildly. "I don't think it was a trick. More like an inadvertant
crash. I've seen you do it enough times around here."

"What?"

"Nothin. Come on and walk it off. Let's go, I'm getting hungry." DeSoto said,
thinking about how bad the end of rush hour traffic was going to be
and how long their ETA back to base was gonna take. "L.A., Squad
51's available."

##Squad 51.## Spap.

----------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Photo:   Roy and Johnny at Rampart looking overwhelmed.

Photo:   Starsky and Hutch figuring it out.

Photo:  Joe Early in close discussion.

Photo:   Kel Brackett looking intent.

Photo:   Doctors operating on a patient in surgical blue.

***********************************************************************
From :  Cory Anda <andacory@hotmail.com> 
Sent :  Wednesday, December 1, 2004 1:57 PM 
Subject :  Mary's Deal  


Starsky and Hutch ran up the stairs leading to Mary Malone's
spanish shingle house and to its vine wrapped front door. 
In their hands, they held a property search warrant, fresh from Captain
Dobey's hands. Lock picking the door, they went inside steathily, guns 
drawn and hugging the walls.

They put them away when they saw that things were completely
undisturbed in every room they could see. Together, the two
detectives sighed in relief.

"Metford hasn't been here yet." said Hutchinson.

"How could he come around to look for the ransom money?
He's got a kid in tow. And one who probably isn't very happy 
about being apart from Mary right now. Besides, Metford still 
knows he's got every cop in the city looking for him." said Starsky.

Hutch frowned. "There's one thing about this whole affair
that really stinks." he said, as he and his partner searched every
dresser in each room for anything resembling something that
could hold hidden money. 

"And what's that, Sherlock?" smiled Starsky.

"If Metford kidnapped Toby on the spur of the moment, how
could Mary have had time to make arrangements to have
money available on hand to try and get him back so fast? We've all
been assuming that attack on her was a first meeting between 
the two of them." reasoned Hutch, leafing through the stack of mail
sitting on Mary's desk for clues.

Starsky didn't like the feeling that washed over him. "A prior
relationship of some kind?"

Hutch nodded. "Not necessarily a romantic one. I can't see a college 
student getting involved with a man Metford's age. He's old enough to
be her father. Perhaps she knows him as some shady, obscure family 
acquaintance?"

"I'll buy that. But if that was true, why didn't she tell us about knowing him,
when we were there, right up front?"

"She had a head injury Starsky." said Hutch. "I speak from experience
that you can't always think clearly having one. I was amazed that Mary
could even talk after coming to like that after not having been able to 
breathe at all."

"She sounded pretty lucid talking to that dark haired paramedic for
those few minutes. What was his name again?"

"John Gage." supplied Hutch, moving on to the next room.
"Let's try looking in the bedroom."

"Ok, Hutch,  I'll go along with your line of thinking. So, ....You're saying,
she changed her tune, once she woke up the rest of the way in that alley, because 
she wanted to try and handle the situation with Metford on her own. I'll buy that. She was 
scared for her boy." Starsky surmised. "But then, at the hospital, the seriousness of her 
condition must've convinced her to change her mind about getting some help with him 
when she realized that she was heading into surgery. She must've figured out that going 
under the knife would run over being able to keep Metford's ransom delivery deadline."

"Most likely." 

Both detectives stopped when they spied a very masculine black briefcase,
sitting on a nightstand by the bed that didn't jive with the rest of the
floral or child's home decor around them. They rushed over to it and
flipped open the lid. Jewels and a large sum of money sparkled up at them.
"Bingo." said Hutchinson.

Starsky picked up some documents lying next to the case and started reading
out loud. "I, Mary Malone, co-signer of the contents of of this safety deposit 
box, so avow, affirm and agree that I have made this withdrawal in good
faith and sound mind...."  He looked up at his partner. "Metford coerced her
to get  her dead grandmother's savings withdrawn."

Hutch had found a notepad next to the phone, written in a curling feminine 
hand that was also shaky looking with stress. "This says eight o'clock, tonight, 
Starsky. At Tower's Plaza.. the 1010 Interchange Building." and his face fell into 
shocked angry lines. "This whole day's turning out so like Metford's usual MO. 
A targetless shooting spree for kicks to celebrate a heist going his way...."

"He's gonna conclude this deal and then go back into deep hiding again where we'll
never find him. We're taking all of this with us! Who's to say Toby won't get on
his nerves and get beaten up like Mary did?" Starsky said, shutting the briefcase 
and snatching up both the bank withdrawal papers and the phone notepad along with
the money and jewels. 

"No one." said Hutch. "That little boy's still in danger even if it isn't deadly danger."

"We don't have time enough to go to headquarters to get the FBI in on this whole
deal.  It's 7:10, Hutch."

"We're gonna haveta find time," he said. Then, in a burst of an idea. "I know, we'll make 
arrangements on the way to the Plaza through Captain Dobey and call all the watch
dog units to close on in." agreed Hutch. "Most of those offices in that tower 
are empty now and unoccupied. It's way after their business closing hours."

"We'll startle Metford out of any target practicing on the streets by calling in
the fire department."

The two detectives ran out of the house, secured its front door tightly, and 
raced for the red Gran Torino as fast as they could in the falling night time 
darkness.

------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
 
Photo:  Starsky and Hutch on the steet in a night time neighborhood.

Photo: An arrest warrant in close up.

Photo:  A briefcase full of money and jewels.

Photo:  Starsky and Hutch in their car on the radio at night.

*************************************************************************************
From:  Katherine Bird <kathbird01@yahoo.co.uk> 
Date:  Tue Nov 30, 2004  4:50 pm 
Subject:  Ring of Fire

Roy DeSoto and Johnny Gage skidded into Station 51's kitchen,
each doing fair imitations of Bonnie scampering claws on the slippery
floor, but with their shoes, in their hurry to get to their plates.

Marco was grumpy, having just finished peeling twenty potatoes to
go along with the steaks Kelly had grilled up. "Hey, watch it you
guys, you'll scuff up the tiles! I just got done mopping that."

Gage and DeSoto ignored him as they scooted their wooden
chairs a little closer to the table and their silverware.

"Ah, I can't wait to sink my teeth into... Sorry for winning the bet, Chet. 
This looks absolutely fabulous." he said tucking a napkin around his neck.
"What didya sautee them in?" he said reaching for the steaks platter for
a taste of the marinate glistening there.

Chet smacked his fingers. "Shittake mushroom and yellow onion. Mitts
off until you get served." he said. "Cap wasn't too pleased about being
suckered into the bet.  But he did his part. He's got a couple of bowls
of salad chilling in the frig."

Johnny looked around, stuffing a dinner roll into his mouth as Kelly
forked over two steaks onto the paramedics' blue and white swirled
china plates. "Where is he? Usually he'd be here pulling rank on all of
us to get the biggest steak."

Mike Stoker looked up from some carrots he was shoving into his
mouth as quick as he could. He mumbled. "He's on the phone
with somebody named Captain Dobey from the Bay City Police 
Department. Do you know anything about that?"

Gage and Roy exchanged glances. "A fair amount. That police
medical standby call turned into an assault and kidnapping. Our
victim was a mother and her four year old son's now missing.
The cops think he's being held by her attacker."

"Ooo, that's rough. She gonna make it?" Kelly asked.

"Yeah. Rampart was really on the ball today.  Her anesthetist was
already in the room when we got to the hospital. She's got a head
crack that seemed to be just epidural in nature. Easily mended." Roy 
replied, cutting his steak calmly and chewing on a center piece stabbed 
onto a fork. "Pass me the pepper, Stoker. Thanks."Johnny was eating so 
fast that Roy was amazed that he didn't choke.  DeSoto frowned a little 
and tried not to watch.

Johnny added his two cents worth. "The whole run was just plain
weird, guys. Bullet casings lying around us like scattered acorns. Cops
running around everywhere. Our two detectives' car had its
windshield shot through with a couple of bullet holes. "

Marco's eyes got real big. "We're you in danger?"

"Nah. It was over by the time we got there." Roy reassured Lopez.

"The shorter cop reminded me a lot of you, Chet. Complete with moppy 
hair and tennis shoes." Gage interjected.

"No kidding..." Kelly said with feigned interest. "Didn't know I had
a twin out there. What'd he do for you guys?"

"He got our lady breathing again. She'd been choked and thrown too hard
onto some concrete. Starsky did pretty well considering the fact that he 
thought he shot her with his gun the whole time he and his partner were
helping her out."

Stoker chuckled. "Starsky. What kind of name is that?"

"It's probably Jewish." Marco guessed.

"Probably. His taller partner was named Hutch." Roy nodded reflectively. 

"As in a piece of furniture?" Chet laughed, stuffing a pile of potatoes into
his mouth.

"I think it was a nickname." Roy said. "But I sure appreciate them both
and what they do for a living. They ran escort for us on the way in and
played chicken with a train to slow it down long enough for the squad
and ambulance to get over the tracks before the gates came down."

"Now that took guts." Gage agreed. "They seem like a real crazy
pair of partners. Funky and impulsive."

"Kinda like the pair of partners sitting in front of me right now, huh?" 
Chet quipped.

Johnny nailed Kelly in the shoulder with a towel. "I meant that in a good
sense."

"So did I." Chet said, mildly, tossing the kitchen towel right back at
him. The whole thing turned into a tossing war between the two,
until Cap's entry into the room, suddenly ended it.

Nonetheless, Cap's eyes had missed nothing. Hank hurried to his chair 
and sat down. "No horseplay at the table, you two. You know the rules."

"Not unless you can get away with it.." Chet said under his breath to
the others.

Cap was too busy filling his plate with food to notice him.

Hank ate half his steak, before he flipped open a file filled with hand written
notes that he had hastily scrawled onto a blank log sheet. "Johnny.
Roy. Gang. We're all on special duty for the rest of the day. Apparently
there's a man hunt going on downtown for some nut case the cops
want real bad. They think they've cornered him in a high rise office
building somewhere near Tower's Plaza and we're gonna be part of a
fire back up response crew in case any tear gas's needed."

"That's probably our kidnapper.." Johnny snorted, chewing his third
dinner roll loudly.

"What?" Hank asked. 

"Nothing, Cap. When do we move into position?" Roy wanted to 
know.

"They'll call us just as soon as they get a bead on their perpetrator. He 
could be anywhere inside that building. And sixty stories is a lot of 
ground to cover manually. We'll probably make it through dinner."

"Knowing the pace our two detectives like to work at, better
hurry up with your steaks everybody. We're bound to be called
out sooner than you'd think.." Roy warned.

The tones went off. 

All the firemen stood bent over their food and they shovelled in a few
last hasty cheekfuls, before they fled for the vehicle bay and their trucks.

##Station 51. Truck 99. Foam 127. Battalion 14. L.A. and Bay City 
Police request a non code R multiple station response to 1010 Tower 
Plaza Drive. Cross street Interchange Blvd. 1010 Tower Plaza Drive. 
Cross street Interchange Blvd. Time out: 19:12.##

"10-4, Station 51, KMG 365." said Cap into the alcove mic.

They rolled out.

----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Photo:   A steak dinner.

Photo:   Gage with his feet up on the kitchen table.

Photo:   A police MO file on a suspect.

Photo:   Starsky and Hutch reading and investigating 
              at their office.

Photo:   Captain Dobey, Starsky and Hutch's superior,
              looking stressed and angry. 

********************************************************************
From: "Patti or Jeff or Cassidy" <theaterhost@voyagerliveaction.com> 
Date: Wed, 1 Dec 2004 11:34:03 -0800 (PST) 
Subject:  [EmergencyTheaterLive] Conference Scene Shots I - V... 

 
Starsky and Hutch beat the responding fire departments to the Plaza 
Tower. They pulled up well away from the police barricades surrounding
the one block radius around the skyscraper and both detectives
got out with the Malone ransom and the two evidence documents and
soon met up with the central police command trailer sprouting antennaes
and hastily wired telephone lines snaking up to the telephone pole next to it.

They flashed their badges to the uniformed cop guarding the command
post's door and went inside. Once there, they met the rotound, dark skinned
Captain Dobey, seated at a small cramped camper table, across from a 
very familiar figure that they all knew very well. It was Huggy Bear.

Without ceremony, Hutch threw the case down in front of the two
of them and flipped it open. The street wise African American informant's
eyes got real big at the sight of all the riches. "Whooo wee, Hutch! What
cat did you knock off to procure these shiny baubles and greenbacks?"

Starsky, out of impatience, grabbed the front of Huggy's threads.
"These came from the dead grandmother of one very frightened
young mother whose child's is now in very grave danger up in that skyscraper
right outside, Huggy. Now tell us what advance knowledge you know
about his kidnapping! You'd better have a very good reason why you
didn't tell us about it before Metford went on his little shotgun, joy riding
foray this afternoon or I'll--"

Captain Dobey reached out and yelled right back. "Starsky! Let go of
him! He knew nothing until he saw Metford dragging Toby by the arm past
his night club down the street, twenty minutes ago. His involvement in it this
time, is as a first hand witness only. Lay off!  Now! .....or I'lI LET him press
charges of illegal harrassment AGAINST you."

Starsky's face fell from crafted fake rage into one of grinning apology.
"Oh. Sorry, Hug. I'm a little worked up right now." And he let the street
toady go.

"That I can tell." Huggy Bear said, straightening up his stylish flashy
outfit. "No hard feelings, man. I'm just as mad at that dude as you are.
He's way uncool. Captain Dobey was kind enough to fill me in and I'm kind 
enough to offer my services with the next stage of the game already scoped 
out!" he said proudly.

"Services? Doing what?" Hutch asked, leaning back to let a uniformed
officer by him as a phone rang up in front of the command trailer.

"I'm your delivery man who'll go to Metford,.." soothed Huggy. " with these..." 
and he slid over the briefcase full of riches closer to where he sat, licking
his lips in anticipation and reaching for its contents.

Starsky slammed down the lid of the case forcefully, making Huggy yelp
and yank both of his hands back in alarm. "Ok, I consider myself ordered to
go along with this entire, absolutely ridiculous charade, Captain. But you,..." 
and he whipped up a finger in front of Huggy's nose, ".. don't haveta go 
fondling the goods unnecessarily. It hasn't been counted yet." And he 
cooly passed the case off to an FBI type whose job it was to do just that.

"Don't you trust me, Starsky? They all do.." Huggy gestured at the rest of
the fuzz milling about inside the trailer.

The panting and exhausted detective, said nothing. Then,..
"Cap, I assume you're gonna wire him." Starsky said, not breaking 
off his angry eye contact with the naturally fidgety street informant.

"Not a chance, Starsky. Metford'll be onto that angle in an instant. He's
not your average unintelligent city joe. I was thinking of using all those firemen
coming to pretend a precautionary fire evac to throw him off long enough for
you two to get a bead on him anyway you can. Both of you are gonna 
be dressed up just like them, going along. And Huggy here can be the panicky
witness who spotted the smoky room in the building."

"What?!" Hutch said. "Cap, that's ludicrous! There's no way in h*ll Starsky
and I can pull off acting like real firemen!"

"And why the h*ll not?" snapped Dobey. "That fire captain of theirs said that
you four got along real chummy like while you cared for Mary, just like
you were the best of friends. Why won't it work? They can coach you
on what to do while you hike it on up there to the thirty fourth floor." he
roared, pointing to the ceiling.

Starsky quieted instantly, and blinked. "T-T-To the thirty fourth floor?! 
On foot!? Whatever for?"

"Because we've been receiving threats from Metford from a phone line
coming from up there that's defying any closer trace and because during
a fire evacuation, elevators are never turned on for public use. You're
gonna haveta keep up the proper appearances!" roared Dobey.
"Man, I'm roasting in here. You there! Yes, you! Bring me a desk fan
A.S.A.P in five minutes or consider yourself demoted!" he shouted to
a very very young police cadet to instill a fear of compliance into him.

"Yes sir!" and the young cop fled clumsily for the supply truck outside.

"Cap..." said Hutch.

"What?!"

"You can't demote a cadet. They're already the lowest ranking
police officer you can have."

"It worked didn't it? Just shut up and let me finish getting you
up to speed here." and he mopped his overheated chubby face. 
"Any questions before you guys go outside and meet Captain Stanley?
And I do mean questions! Not complaints!"

"Aww, Cap, we've been up for over forty six hours. Straight!" groaned
Starsky. "I'm never gonna survive climbing up that many flights of stairs
wearing an oxygen bottle."

"That's air bottle, Starsk. SCBA tanks are always full of just air." 
Hutch whispered sotto voce.

"I don't care, Hutch. I'm gonna need oxygen if you two make me do 
that.  I'm tired. I'm worse than tired. If I climb those stairs in
all that turnout gear I'm gonna hurl worse than your sickest smelliest 
curbside wino! I'll die, sure as sh--" the curly haired partner protested. 
But he was cut off by a move that made his vision swim.

Huggy had grabbed Starsky's leather jacket and he hauled the detective a
little closer to his taller, sweating face. "Think of that poor little kid, Starsk. 
He needs ALL of us right now to guarantee his very survival. And very 
badly, I might add. Now will you go along with us?"

Starsky froze defensively, resisting ripping the hands off of his
lapels. Then he smiled wanly. "How can I refuse, Huggy? You ask so 
nicely. " he said sarcastically. "Ok, Hutch. Let's go." and he checked his
weapon to see if it was still fully loaded.

-----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
Starsky squared his shoulders as he and his partner walked
bravely over to the fire engine numbered 51. "Which one is
the captain, Hutch? I feel ridiculous..." he said, shoving up his
helmet once again so that it didn't flop down into his eyes.

"The Batallion Chief said that Captain Stanley would have a
skunk stripe on his helmet." said Hutch, still trying to figure out
how to rig his gun holster underneath the tan fire turnout he
wore over his usual clothes.

"Skunk stripe? What the h*ll is a skunk stripe?" Starsky
grumbled.

Hutch pointed as a tall man in fire gear came striding over
along with Johnny Gage and Roy DeSoto. "I believe that
would be it.." Hutch said with amusement.

"Oh. So that's a skunk stripe.." mumbled Starsky, eyeballing
the bright white crest on top of the black plastic of Stanley's 
helmet. It was glowing under the street light. "You do all the
talking. I don't feel like chatting right now. Maybe later. I
gotta conserve my strength for the big climb." he snapped.

Hutch frowned at Starsky and rolled his eyes with a sigh.

"Captain Stanley?" introduced Hutch as four firemen left the side
of one fire truck and started moving in their direction. "I'm Ken 
Hutchinson and this is David Starsky. We're the detectives Captain 
Dobey spoke to you about concerning the storming operation
that we're gonna do into the Plaza building....." 

"Oh, yes. Hello." and Hank pulled his gloves off to shake both
detectives' hands warmly. "I hope that anything the Los Angeles 
County Fire Department can do tonight will be good enough to 
get that young woman's boy down safe. I believe you already 
know paramedics Johnny Gage and Roy DeSoto."

"We remember." said Hutch, smiling.

"How can we forget...?" whispered Starsky, complaining.

Hutch jabbed his partner in the ribs sharply.

"Your Captain Dobey has already briefed them on the 
situation and what they're gonna to do up there during the ransom
delivery. They know to keep out of sight if and when bullets begin to fly."
said Hank. "We're good at duck and covering." he joked.

Neither detective caught the humor in it.

 "Eh. Hmmm." Hank cleared his throat awkwardly.

"Shall we get the show on the road?" smiled Hutch for both himself 
and his mute partner. "First, did we get these SCBA bottles things 
on right? Could you check em out? Can't say my partner and I have 
ever had the pleasure of wearing anything like these in the past."

"Oh, that's easy. Here." said Chet Kelly, moving on around Starsky
and jerking on the straps animatedly to test their attachments.
He goosed Starsky with the two leg straps, accidently. 

"Hey! Careful.." said Starsky, grabbing his crotch.

"Now those two are in the wrong place, Mr. Starsky." said Kelly to 
his curly haired companion, shaking his head. "Want me to redo 
em?"

"No..no..no.. I'll handle it. I got em.. Just ....show me how you did 
yours on you, Mr..."

"...Kelly.  But call me, Chet. Please." said the fireman cheerfully. He
was the same height as Starsky. "Glad we're gonna be working 
together. Don't worry about a thing. You're always gonna be safe
with a crew of firefighters workin with ya. Here, this is how I did mine."

"Ok,..Chet.. I think I got it." said Starsky tightly, making the corrections.

Eventually, the two detectives were geared up properly with a few
adjustments to their outer coats so that they'd be able to reach their guns 
easily in an instant's notice.

Mike Stoker showed them a fast run down on how to hold coiled hose
on a shoulder for stairclimbing, with one side of the loop bunches
slung over the air bottle tank's top, above their helmets.

Captain Stanley handed the two detectives a couple of fire HTs. "Use these
to contact any of my men. They're set to the frequency our engine operates on
and I'll be listening, too. Your captain says he'll be tapped in as well,
monitoring, from the FBI trailer."

Gage noticed Starsky's tired condition. He leaned over to Roy while testing
his air mask for show for Metford in case he was watching from far above.
"You know, I think we're gonna haveta shoulder carry the short guy the rest of 
the way up before we get to the tenth floor, Roy."

Roy watched the smaller detective shake his head to rid it of mental cobwebs.
"We can always give him a couple of shots of O2 so he can make it to the top. 
We will be carrying our medical gear with us for when we find the boy."

"That's gonna slow us down some." Johnny sighed.

"Not by much. There's a lot to be said about honor between departments.
Looks like the boys in blue are gonna have to muscle up to the men in brown.
He'll last, all right, probably without us even interfering."

"I hope you're right, pal. You trail behind Starsky. I'll keep an eye on Hutch. He
looks the stronger of the two and seems like he'll be easier to manage." Johnny 
said. "Oh, by the way, ya got those fake smoke canisters handy for when we get 
up there?"

"Yeah. I showed Huggy Bear how to light one off, too. In case we're still 
separated when he flushes out Metford with the briefcase." said Roy. "He's
the one over there dressed like a business executive holding the ransom
payment."

Soon, Johnny, Chet, Roy, Starsky and Hutch along with Huggy Bear, were
climbing up the stairs of the west side of the Tower Plaza Building following 
a loud, bold announcement that Batallion Fourteen gave over the megaphone, 
as he would've done to any evacuating sky scraper population. It was their cue
to go.

----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
By floor twenty two, Detective Starsky was weaving, and Roy DeSoto
had both hands fully against his back, pushing him up stair by stair.

Gage was losing patience. "Detective Starsky. We can always rest ya know. 
It's only twenty til." he told the dark haired policeman. "A minute either way isn't
gonna kill us."

Starsky could only puff. ".....* pant * ..I'm..  * pant*... fine... *gasp* In fact, .....I even
think I'm ...* cough* ..waking up a little.." he said, pausing at the top of a landing.

Chet just grinned, "Ok.. but keep in mind that we firemen do snort oxygen
from time to time in real life for a stair climb. There's no shame in doing it. Here. 
Gimme your hose. Just hand it on over. I'll carry it up the last twelve stories for ya."

"No. *gasp*" said Starsky.

Hutch grabbed Starsky's other glove and he started hauling. "Sorry, he's so 
stubborn. It's what makes him a better than average cop."

"Please, don't apologize. My partner Johnny here tells Captain Stanley exactly 
the same thing all the time about being a paramedic." chuckled Roy.

At the next flat landing, Starsky eyeballed Huggy Bear, still bounding stairs 
easily ahead of him. "How come you're not dragging your ever lovin rear like I 
am?"

"I dance. A lot. How else can a night club owner impress all the ladies?"

Hutch and the three firemen laughed.

-----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

A sharp burst of static from the handy talkies in all their gloves,
arrested them. It was Hank Stanley. ##Engine 51 to Squad 51.
Condition Red! A bomb threat's just been made by Metford! And
the FBI says that he has the know how necessary in order to make
and set one. Use the utmost caution and your elevator keys if and
when you have to get out of there in a hurry. Whatever you do, don't 
make a descent. Go up towards the roof! Metford claims it'll go
off if you're late even five minutes. The call came from the same
general area as the others.##

"Oh boy.." sighed Chet Kelly. "Where is it?" he asked fearfully.

"Isn't it obvious?" Johnny said to him. "Somewhere between the 
ground floor and Metford's hideaway on the 34th floor. You sorry
you decided to come with us, Chet?"

"I wouldn't miss out on all this for the world." he interjected 
sarcastically. But he was grinning.

Starsky at once pulled himself together. "34, let's see....
That's one floor above us. Ok, Huggy. Go out here and get into an 
elevator. Use your fire key to reactivate it. Take it up one to floor 34. 
And for Pete's sake, keep your hands out in the open. Keep talking 
until Metford hears you. See if you can find out where the boy is.  
Remember Metford likes to bully more than he likes to kill. He's usually 
all bluff."

"That's small comfort. Psychopaths are always crazy." Huggy said.

"Go." said Hutch. "Send the elevator back down to our floor if you
spot him or back down to the ground floor if you don't. We'll wait 
here for your signal after we set off the smoke canisters. Make mention
that you smell smoke clearly."

"Got it."

"Time?" said Starsky. "Set your watch, Huggy."

All three firemen looked at their watches and said. "7:52 pm."

"Ok, go!" said Hutch.

Chet Kelly and Johnny Gage started setting up their hoses and attaching
them to the one coiled near a water valve behind glass in the stairwell. They 
did everything but prime it.

The firemen gathered behind Hutch and Starsky as the two detectives drew
out their weapons and entered the darkened floor on 33. "Ok, it's clear."
said Hutch, waving everyone else on in.

Chet launched a smoke canister right under an air vent, putting on his mask
and motioning for the others to do the same. Then the five of them moved
into clear air, watching the indicator on the elevator to see where it stopped.

The doors opened on their floor. Getting a ladder from a closet, Gage set it up
near another ceiling vent where loud conversation could be heard through it from 
Huggy and unmistakably, another man who was growing desperate. The talking 
went on for several tense seconds. 

"Now I delivered the money and jewels in good faith. I owe it to Mary to get
her son back. She's my dearest friend, Metford. Where's the boy?!" said
Huggy.

"Stay right there, company man." snarled Metford. "I have the controls to 
the bomb right here so no funny business!"

"I'm unarmed. See? I just want to see the boy."

"The boy's safe. He's only a few rooms from here. Go
get him and bring him back here."

"Where? There must be at least two dozen doors in this hallway alone."

"Then you're gonna haveta search for him in a hurry. You've only got six minutes 
until we both go out in a blaze of glory, money man. Make the best of it."  

"I'm telling you, I smell smoke. I was wondering why the fire department was
here." Huggy said. "We don't have time for this. Look." and he pointed to
where smoke was billowing out of a floor vent at their feet. "The fire's
all around us now. We have to find the firemen coming our way 
to get out of here safely."

"To each his own destiny...." said Metford. He set down the bomb's control box,
after activating a peculiar set of switches on its face, onto the carpetting at 
their feet. And then he fled into a stairwell that wasn't the one the others 
were hiding in. Huggy couldn't tell if the criminal had gone up or down. He didn't
really care at that point. It was the farthest thing from his mind. 

The thin black man snatched out an HT from his suit pocket and he started 
yelling. "Starsky! Hutch! We've got trouble! Metford's gone, but the bomb box 
isn't. He says the boy's on my floor!"

The stairwell door burst open and Huggy barely shoved Hutch out of the way
before his fire booted foot stepped on the bomb controller. Chet Kelly stood by
while Starsky and Hutch pulled off their air masks and knelt down by the red
glowing device. "It's countdown says twenty minutes to zero." said Hutch.

"No problem. We'll get the boy and clear out using one of these highspeed
elevators." smiled Starsky. "Piece of cake." Then he dashed off after Johnny 
and Roy to go kick down a few doors to locate Toby.

Hutch whipped up his talkie. "Captains Stanley and Dobey. We found the 
bomb's controller. It shows T- minus nineteen minutes. It's a touch trigger.
Metford's gone with the money to somewhere else in the building..."
his voice trailed off when the power suddenly went off.

##We copy you. Have you found the boy yet?## replied Stanley.

"Oh, brother.." said Chet in the pitch blackness. "Now we know where
he went. The generator room." He strode over to the wall map, carefully
overstepping the countdown device, and read its index by handlight. "He's 
two floors below us."

Hutch got right back on the radio."Negative, 51 and Command. We've
a problem. We've just lost all our electrical power. And we can't tell how
many floors this effects."

##All of them, detective. The entire building's just gone dark.## said
an unfamiliar voice from the FBI's end of the frequency.

There was a pause and then came a tight shout from Captain Stanley.
##Tell my men up there to get out their elevator brakes! They know how
to raise an elevator car up manually. You all can get to the roof an--##

##Belay that Hutch! It'll take too long.## came Dobey's equally concerned 
voice. ##When you find the boy, run! To a window! We've got a police
chopper on the way that you can jump into using ropes..##

The banging doors kept on moving down the pitch black hallway.
Then a shout. "I found him!" said Roy. "He's alive!"

The others saw the paramedic's wavering flashlight as he and 
Johnny and Starsky ran back to the elevator lobby area. Roy was carefully
carrying the boy in his arms. "He's pretty dehydrated. We found him on an 
overturned mattress under a blanket in an office." he said. 

Johnny snatched out a pen and checked his eyes.
"This's just a faint. He'll maintain ok without an oral."

"Ok, let's get going then.." said the two detectives. They went in
one direction and the firemen went into an elevator.

"Wait a minute. Wait a minute! What are we doing here?!" asked
Starsky. "We can't split up." 

All of their flashlights lit up the lobby in eerie black and white
shadows.

"Detectives. I strongly urge you to come with us. In fact, I'll tie you
up if I have to." said Johnny Gage seriously. "The elevator car will
give us some protection if that bomb goes off.  Being near that window
at the end of the hall's sheer craziness. A chopper pilot won't be
able to carry away all of us."

"You're right." said the dark haired detective and he bent over
offering up his laced fingers for a boost so someone could
reach the car's roof access panel above their heads.

Hutch set his watch to match the timer on the bomb control and
then he and Chet manually shoved the elevator doors shut with
their hands.

Roy crouched on the floor and monitored the boy.

Gage got to the top and reached down to pull up Starsky
and then Hutch into the elevator's shaft to the pulley jimmey
there. "Here. This halligan fits here. We'll take turns."

"Up or down?" asked Starsky, pulling his fire helmet a little tighter
over his head.

"Up. Because explosion debris always falls." decided Johnny."My 
captain was right about trying for the roof. Put your air masks on.
And detective keep giving us a countdown! If it gets too close we'll
leap back in and cover up with the rest of ya." he told Roy and Chet.
"How's he doing?" he asked about Toby.

"He's breathing fine." said DeSoto, holding an oxygen mask over
the boy's pale face. "There's no signs of bleeding or trauma. I'll wait
on getting vitals for obvious reasons."

"Kinda figured that." said Gage with a grunt as he and the two
detectives worked to raise the car, foot by foot with their jimmeying.

"T-minus fifteen and seven seconds." said Hutch with a glance
at his watch in the torchlight coming from inside the elevator.

They were nearing the fifty first floor and passing it, 
when their time ran out.

A muffled BOOM shook the shaft around them.

"Here it comes!" shouted Gage, "I sure hope that brake
holds! Everybody, hang on!"

Starsky, Hutch, Chet, Roy and Johnny all huddled on the
floor of the elevator car cradling the boy and watched as the
ceiling panel above them puffed in with displacing air as
the fire created by the bomb, roared up the elevator shaft
to meet them.

--------------------------------------------------------------------------------

On the street, onlookers startled as the thirty fourth floor of
the Plaza Tower disintegrated in a ringing nimbus of fire. All the 
windows of that story blew out in an explosive rain of glass and 
debris. The police helicopter, still waiting by a window, hastily
banked away to safety.

"Holy, mother of---!" shouted Batallion Fourteen. "Get back!
Everybody, get back!"

Fire crews had already been prepared and had taken cover.

Captain Stanley immediately got on the walkie talkie.
"Engine 51 to Squad 51, what's your status?" he said into
the live channel. Static met his transmission. He waited
agonizing seconds, before hailing again. Still, nothing came.

Looking up, the firefighters heard a muffled hissing begin
from every shattered window over the flames.

The building's internal water sprinklers kicked in, quickly snuffing
out the flames as they were designed to do and kept on pouring water
by the hundreds of gallons per second. They would keep on showering
until the floor's internal heat sensors, registering points in the red for 
high internal temperatures, gave out an all clear and cease order.

Metford lost the race to get the master generator restarted on
the thirty second floor. His plan to ride an elevator down using
Huggy Bear's fire access key, wasn't even a faintly possible option. 

He went running, passing by some exterior windows, when a rush of air 
and fire coming down the stairwell he had used, simply expelled him out 
of the building in a ball of fire. He was dead before he hit the ground by 
the lush courtyard fountain.

The ransom briefcase fared better, it bounced on the carpetting as it 
was dropped and it rolled to a stop under a desk as the fire suppression 
system activated around it, putting out the flames in the room. It remained
dry and sealed tight.

"Engine 51 to Squad 51, do you read?" came Cap's quiet, urgent voice.

Dobey and the agents in the trailer remained silent on their end, letting 
the fire department take a lead over the air waves, trying to reach the 
group in the elevator car.

-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

The elevator car shuddered, throwing the three firemen and two detectives
and Huggy back down onto their hands and knees. The brake above them 
squealed and sharp, frightening metallic pings and snaps echoed above them
as the ascension cable unfrayed and gave way. It parted in two, tangling
around the pulley block they had been using to rise. The car dropped ten
feet in free fall, then caught against the passive wall brakes on either side
of the elevator shaft's track grooves.

"What was that?!" shouted Starsky through his air mask.

"One of the cables gave way! I think it was the lifter! Stay down!" shouted
Roy through his.

The elevator car groaned in tortured metal and started a slipping, jerky
descent as its mass surrendered to gravity. It dropped, plummeting a few
feet, and then it would catch again on the brakes long enough to lose 
some dangerous momentum. Sitting up proved to be impossible without 
everyone getting jarred.

Hutch managed to lift an HT to his faceplate. "Engine 51, we're falling!
The emergency brakes aren't catching smoothly. We're in elevator number 
three!"

Johnny saw an orange glow through the cracks of the jilted metal doors.
"Here comes the 34th again. Cover Toby against the heat!" he shouted
in painful whistling gasps around his air regulator.

Sparks flew through the top of the roof access panel as the tangle
of steel from the parted cabling melted with friction and grew brittle.
Pieces of it flew apart and their fall speed suddenly increased, carrying 
them safely by the burning, hissing floor and beyond it.

Roy let out the breath he was holding. He had been afraid that
the elevator shaft would be warped on that floor, trapping the car
in the middle of fire. He reported in over his radio. "We're still sliding. 
Below the thirty fourth! Still somewhat controlled by the braking system 
we set manually! Our fall speed's about a quarter floor a second!"

## 10-4! We're on our way to the basement to get you out!## yelled 
a relieved Captain Stanley. ##Injuries?!##

"None so far.." shouted Johnny into his own HT. "A little rough going.
We'll see you at the bottom..." he joked tightly.

"We're dead.. we're dead!" Huggy gasped, in a whisper, through
his air bottle's faceplate.

"Not yet we aren't." said Hutch, trying to smile through his.

"We're good at elevator ditching. We aren't going to die."
promised Gage, patting the soaked street informant on a shoulder.
"Just keep your helmet on."

The firemen were caught unprepared by the amount of water pouring in
from the bombed floor's level. It gushed on top of the car and into it
rapidly. It also made the emergency brakes clenched in the car's tracks, 
steam angrily.

Hutch coughed, even though his face was protected from the deluge.
"Where'd all this come from?"

"Be glad its there.." said Roy as he clung to the boy's head, shielding
it from the wet raining water cascading around them. "That water
kept us from frying on the 34th."

"It's the sprinklers, They've kicked in.  We're getting inundated 
because they're designed to drain their discharged water into all the 
elevator shafts to minimize water damage." Johnny told him.

"Isn't this a very large amount coming in?" Starsky asked them.

Neither firemen answered right away. Then Roy said, "A little bit.."
he shrugged, trying to calm the detective.

"What happens if we don't stop on the street level?" asked
Hutch.

"We'll fall into the sub basement and into the impact cushions there."
Gage answered. 

"That doesn't sound very comforting, does it Hutch? I guess
we'll get to find out what the preverbial sudden stop feels like 
after a freefall." joked Starsky morbidly.

"What if all that's underwater, my man?" Huggy Bear asked quickly, still
hanging one hand onto the grip bar above his head and the other 
over his air mask.

"Then we swim." Gage replied. "Don't worry. We're good
at that, too."

-----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Bubbles. And a deep penetrating cold, with a bitter taste of crude oil.
That's all Starsky felt and knew after a numbing jolt slammed him to the 
floor of the elevator car. He flailed and swam about blindly as he tried
to hold his breath far past the point of consciousness. 

But then he blacked out.

------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

"Did ya find him?" shouted Roy from where he clung to
the side of the flooded elevator shaft. Toby was awake
and floated easily in his arms. Huggy Bear was holding
a dazed and wounded Hutch in his grip, keeping his face
above water as the blond haired man tried to come to.

"Not yet..." said Chet Kelly and then he dove once more
under the surface of the water. Johnny Gage did one better
and entered the flooded car going all the way to the carpetted
floor, sweeping around with his arms. But he found just their abandoned
air bottle tanks which knocked painfully against his fingers. His head hit 
the squad's medical gear boxes floating near the roof, more than once.

Gage exited the submersed car, breaking the water's surface 
in a gasp.

"My turn again." said Chet Kelly. "I'll check inside the track grooves
next. Gimme your flashlight! Mine shorted out."

Johnny handed it off as he swam to a shaft wall where they all
floated, almost at ground level. He could hear banging as
fire crews started to force open the elevator doors above them
and a deep part of him wished that they could do more than
just bang on a pipe back at them for a current status report.

Chet took in a huge breath and went under.  Seconds later, he found 
Starsky's blue striped Adidas shoes sticking out of a dead end service 
door that had opened for him into a tiny room that had unfortunately 
been flooded completely with sprinkler runoff. He grabbed the unconscious
detective's waist and shoved him up into the air as high as he could 
over his head, so the others would see him. Then he kicked for the 
surface.

"There!" shouted Huggy. "Right there!"

"Where? I don't see anything.." Gage coughed and shivered.

"Right there. In the very middle!" said Huggy Bear.

"To your nine o'clock, Johnny!" shouted Roy.

Johnny spun around in a circle, treading water until he saw Starsky's
head breaking the top of the water where Chet had pushed
it. Starsky flopped face down into the water for only a moment as
Kelly swam himself up to the air. His pair of hands righted the detective's 
slack face and lifted it onto a firm shoulder and at the same time, he
tipped Starsky's head back.

Johnny swam over to help. "Is he alive?"

Chet spat out water in a half nod. "But obstructed! I got nothing in
down there."

"Want me to--"

"Yes!"

"Watch him!" Johnny ordered. Gage reached around and began modified
heimlich abdominal thrusts, with his arms wrapped around Starsky's waist, 
pushing up in sharp forceful movements. 

Kelly continued to hold the detective's head backwards over Gage's
shoulder until a gush of water spurted out of his mouth. Then he 
attempted a breath, mouth to nose. It went in with an abundant 
chest rise.

"Keep going!" Johnny told him as he swam both of them to
a wall where a narrow beam made a ledged surface. They
heaved the rag dolled Starsky up onto it as fast as they could 
onto his back. They began freeing up his chest out of the fire turnout 
and shirt, when Johnny thought of something important.
 "Hold it! Hold it. Not so fast. Let me get rid of this."
And Gage drew out and tossed away Starsky's 9mm. 
It sank with a splash.

"How is he?" shouted Huggy from the other side of the shaft.

They didn't answer him.

Roy did. "He's drowning. But they're clearing him out and he's
got a pulse." 

Chet had given Starsky another two breaths more, when water poured 
out of his mouth. It was followed by a weak bout of coughing. Together the 
two firemen rolled the shuddering policeman onto his side to drain 
and they let him vomit up all the water he had swallowed. The effort woke 
the chilled detective up the rest of the way.  

"Easy, man. You're gonna be fine.." mumbled Chet. "Are you hurt 
anywhere?" he asked as Starsky tried to struggle up into a sitting 
position. He couldn't control his muscles. Gage and Kelly helped him 
up the rest of the way and held him against the wall firmly, 
so he could breathe more effectively.

"* cough* ....no.... *groan* ..Hutch?"

"He's waking up with just a few scratches." answered Kelly.

Starsky leaned over and started coughing violently. "I don't
feel so good. What was it Charlie the Tuna said on all those
TV commercials?...Chicken of th--- *choke*.. That's me, ..
oooh..hh. I hate.. the water. Now I know why Mama told me
to take a land job."

"Just relax. Breathe deeper breaths and that shortness you're feeling 
will go away faster. We'll be outta here in a few minutes. A stokes crew's
right above us." said Johnny. "Huggy, why don't you swim Hutch
over here. " the paramedic said, glancing back over his shoulder.

"Sure thing, bro." said the street man.

"....then I can check them both out a little better. Kelly, keep the
detective upright even if he passes out again. He can't sit up on
his own, he's too cold now."

"I got him." said Chet, hauling himself out of the water next
to Starsky where he could keep monitoring his pulse at the wrist.
He wrapped an arm around the policeman's shoulders and he set the
groggy man's head onto his shoulder. "It's all right. Sleep if you
have to, man. I promise you'll wake up in a nice warm..--"

Starsky drifted, feeling supported and off danger's hook.

The last thing he saw was Hutch's scuffed face staring back at him.

---------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
"I believe this, is yours, little lady.." smiled Detective Starsky
at Mary Malone from where she lay on the hospital bed. 

Her son Toby sat curled up in her lap and his eyes got real big when he
saw all the money and jewels that were piled inside the smoke stinking
briefcase.  "What's that, mommy?" he asked curiously.

"Oh, where did you find it?" Mary sighed, running loving hands over
a particularly old but lovely brooch.

"I didn't find your grandmother's heirlooms. The coworkers of these 
three fine gentlemen to my left, found it." said the curly haired policeman 
from his outpatient wheelchair. "I just thought I'd do another good deed on my 
way out. I'm just the messenger. Captain Dobey ran your briefcase here 
from Headquarters in a squad car as soon as he could swing the paperwork."

"Oh, how can I ever thank you?" Mary said, hugging Toby and smiling up
at the plain clothed firefighters. "Now I'll have enough to pay for our
medical bills."

Hutch, from the next hospital bed, cleared his throat. "What
medical bills, Mary? The guys on the force...."

"...and at all the stations...." added Johnny Gage..

"....gathered up some donations after they'd heard your story
and we kind of sorta ...paid for everything.." finished Starsky, 
grinning from ear to ear.

Mary started sobbing, holding her bandaged head.

"Ooo, sorry..." said Johnny, almost reaching out
to steady her. "I know that still hurts."

"I'm not in pain. I'm h-happy.." she said tearfully.

Johnny, Roy, Chet, Starsky, and Hutch, took to blushing in 
abject humility under the power of her beautiful smile.


END   Episode Sixteen, Devil's Due..

FIN     TV Series Crossover Special One

                                       
                                                          §§   Devil's Due   §§

                      :)     This episode is dedicated to police detectives everywhere
                              who risk their lives to save others in the line of duty.                                                                                              
                      :)                                                                                                              :)

 ==========================

The Story Unfolds...

Season Two, Episode Seventeen..

 §§   That Latin Flair   §§
 
Debut Launch: December 1st 2004.

-------------------
*********************************************************************
From:  "Robert Gutheim" <rguthei1@twcny.rr.com> 
Date:  Thu Dec 2, 2004  9:00 am 
Subject: Green Christmas  

Chet as usual checked around for a certain dark haired paramedic
before he went and filled a balloon with water intending to rig the
paramedics locker so that it would spring out and get him wet when he
opened the door. 

He was having a little trouble setting up the spring
mechanism though when he heard a voice behind him.
"You do realize, Chet, that a certain white bearded man in a
red coat is watching. You wouldn't want to get a stocking full of
coal on Christmas morning. Or worse, latrine duty, if Cap finds out
about you trying to pull a phantom act on me yet again," a voice said
causing Chet to startle and the water balloon to fall on top of him.

"Gage, you don't actually believe in that whole Santa Claus
bit do you. After all, your wha? Almost thirty? Plus you are half
Native American." Chet pointed out.

"I know. But we celebrated Christmas using the non-religious
aspects like other human beings," Gage said as he started to put 
on his uniform.

A few minutes later, they were gathered with the others for roll call.

"OK, everyone, let's start with a few memos from various
Headquarters." said Cap. "First off, no egg nog is to be found 
on any departmental property by order of Chief Houts.

"The Departmental Christmas Party is at Headquarters in the main commissary 
on December 22nd all firefighters off duty are required to attend and on duty 
firefighters are encouraged to stop in, so long as their rigs are on hand.

"McConnikee wants me to remind everyone to keep a careful eye out for
any holiday related fire hazards. Now the fun part, daily chores. Cooking, Stoker, 
Dishes, Lopez. Apparatus Bay, DeSoto. Hose Tower,Gage. Latrine Duty, Kelly."

"Ah, Cap, why am I stuck with latrine duty? Isn't it obvious I'm the one
that is wet, not Gage?" Chet moaned.

"I know how you tend to be, Chet. Now get going, or I will stick you
with latrine duty from now until Christmas." Cap threatened him.

The tone box went off right then.

##Station 51. Car crash with injuries. 2300 E 223rd Street. 2300 E 223rd
Street. Cross Street, Alameda. Time out, 0810.##

"Station 51 KMG365," Cap said, before the engine and squad rolled out
of the station.
-----------------------------------------------------------

Photos:  None. 

*******************************************************************
From :  patti keiper <pattik1@hotmail.com> 
Sent :  Thursday, December 16, 2004 11:30 AM 
Subject :  Snap! Crackle and Pop.... 


Station 51 pulled up at a curb deep in the heart of Carson.
The accident had occurred as reported, but involved only one
car and a power pole on the outskirts of the landfill /junkyard 
which flanked the L.A. river bed. The pole was down and
sparking. Cap kept a nose and eye out for gas pools even
as he informed Headquarters with what he had. "L.A. Engine 51."

##Engine 51. ## 

"We have a single vehicle overturned on the boulevard. Lines are
down. Have the electric company cut power to the east side
block of Alameda between 223rd street, and Franklin."

##10-4, 51.## came a reply after a short pause on the air
over both the station's vehicle radioes and all of their HT's. 
## Power utilities says electrical power will be cut in five minutes.##

"Copy that. Engine 51, out." and he threw the HT onto the seat of
the open door of the Ward LaFrance. "Gang, circle and look for
any victims a safe distance away. Stoker, draw out the reel line
and wash down all this grass only when those lines have been
powered down."

"Right, Cap." said Mike Stoker.

"The rest of you. See what you can see without getting too close!"
advised Stanley, yelling over the angry hiss and crackle of violated
powerlines from the toppled pole which leaped and tangled with
themselves on the pavement. 

Johnny Gage and Roy DeSoto walked to the down wind side of
the wreck with a healthy thirty feet between them and the downed
pole and writhing wires. It was a tan car, resting on its roof, in the 
middle of a grass island which split a fork in the road into a Y. A 
man lay on his stomach and his legs were pinned by the heavy 
weight of the crashed car. It didn't seem like any live wires were 
touching the car or the man. 

Gage sniffed carefully in the breeze blowing in his face as he 
pulled on his gloves. "Can't tell if he's still alive. There's too
much wind moving his clothes around. No gas, though. We're
lucky that way at least."

Roy shouted to the victim. "Hey! Can you hear me?! Don't try to
move! There are wires down all over the place. We'll be right
in to get ya, just hang on a bit and don't panic!"

The two paramedics circled the wreck site even as the rest of the 
gang laid protective hose and got the heavy extrication equipment 
lined up in a safe area. Johnny picked up a flashlight and aimed
it onto the man's face in spite of the bright sunlight. "I see sweat
beads. He's gotta be alive still. Anyone dead would've been dried
off already in this wind." 

The two pacing firemen backed away from the accident site even
further when the wind rolled a bucking wire into their direction.

Johnny threw an axe on top of it to pin it to the cement, and then
leaped out of the way.  Cap's head snapped up at the clanging
noise, but then he gave Gage a solid thumbs up of approval.

Roy had taken the flashlight from Johnny and he was trying to
see into the dark recesses of the car's compartment. "Where's
the driver?"

"What?" said Johnny, from where he stood, resting his gloves
on his knees, as he studied how they would begin to get
their victim free once the area was safe.

"Our victim's the passenger. See? That seat belt is still 
around his waist. Broken free, but still around him." said
DeSoto, as he played the light over the bluish belt and into
the car. 

"I think you're right. Even if the car flipped, there's no way he
could've slid over fast enough if he were driving to get pinned
like the way he's pinned now. It doesn't add up." Johnny
rubbed his nose.

"Cap!" shouted Roy over the angry spitting from the wires.

##Go...## said Cap from the other side of the scene, by
the station trucks, over an airwave.

Roy belatedly pulled out his walkie talkie and hit the talk button.
"We're a victim shy. This is the passenger, Cap. Belt confirms
it."

##Ok,  I'll assume a possible ejection and call out a search. 
Stand by for news..##

Roy could just make out Cap verbally sending Chet and Stoker 
into wider and wider scouting patterns, looking for blood and other 
traces the driver might have left behind. Cap himself jogged over to 
the police officer keeping away the public to see if any of those 
people had seen anything about what might have happened.

Marco got ready with a plastic tarp and extrication gear. He
left a stokes next to a longboard in case the man's legs were
too badly broken for easy securing once they got him out from
under the car.

Then he stood waiting by an idling K-12 for signs that all
the electricity was turned off. It was hard to tell in the wind which
lines were hot and which were not. It seemed like all of them were
swaying. So Lopez used the spot where Johnny's axe was
connecting and kept an eye on the blue orange sparks dancing
around the head and handle.

Chet came back with a clump of hair in his glove and he showed 
Cap. "It's human...too fine to be dog.. and I think I smell
Johnson to Johnson's on it. "

"Where'd you find that, pal?!" asked Hank, shouting over the noise
of the electrical wires.

"Between us and the river bed!" replied Chet, dropping the clump of hair 
to the ground.

Hank sighed, turning so he could see the long barb wired wall of
fencing marking proximity to the river spillway. "Oh, boy. Better start casing along 
the edge. The brush's pretty thick down there. The driver could be anywhere if he 
flew out of the car in that direction." Then he rubbed his face. "Tell you what. You 
and Stoker grab some ropes and rappel down on in. The flood gates won't be released 
until noon for this part of the city. See what you can see and keep in touch by walkie. 
Johnny, Roy, Marco and I will handle the passenger ourselves. It'll take at least
ten minutes for more help to arrive on this."

"Will do, Cap." said Kelly and he jogged off to the engine to get two harness sets.

Cap called out onto the rescue channel. "Engine 51, L.A."

##Engine 51.##

"Respond an urban rescue truck and air support to our location for
a victim search. We may have one in the river bed."

##10-4. UR reports an ETA of four minutes. Chopper 10 has been informed.
Pilot has your canyon in sight. He reports an arrival time in two.##

Marco, Johnny and Roy all stood by, antsy and restless, all staring hard
at the man on the ground for signs of life beyond the cold sweat pouring
off of his pale skin. Then a hand twitched and his lips moved in a gasp of pain
as some awareness returned. 

Cap shouted, getting their attention. All three firefighters whirled towards the
engine. Hank gestured a cut throat motion across his neck and then pointed to
Johnny's axe. It had quit dancing and there was no sign of high voltage fire 
encircling it any longer.

"Ok, let's move out. Marco.. grab the K-12. We already know there's no
gas leaking. Try and get that weight off of his legs while we stabilize his
C-spine for his extrication...It won't take long. He's already laying in a line." 
Gage mapped out.

"Ok, Johnny." said Lopez, hefting up the seventy pound tool onto a shoulder.

The three men carefully stepped over the wind swaying wires in case the 
power came back on. They could see Cap talking with a police officer, trying
to find any witness to the moment of the crash to help pin point the river bed
search.

In a test, Roy leaned over and spit on a wire. Nothing happened. "So far 
so good." he said, pulling off a glove to test the quality of the man's carotid.
"Johnny, 126 and thready. Breathing's real shallow at 22 and he's diaphoretic."

Gage nodded, running his hands over the man's back and arms until
finally he reached in to see if he could locate the man's feet to see if
they were still attached. They were. "I got pulses in both ankles."
and he started to cut away the man's shirt, sleeves and pant legs to 
look for further injuries. He found a few pieces of glass embedded 
in his hip. Those he left alone. 

Roy got the man onto some oxygen, right where he lay on his stomach, 
and contented himself with getting an initial set of vital signs while
Johnny worked to get a more complete assessment. All the while,
the fair haired paramedic talked to his victim. "Easy, mister. My
partner and I are gonna take real good care of you. Just try to relax.
We're looking for your friend right now. Just don't try to move around
too much. We're gonna get you splinted up here in a minute or so
once a firefighter's cut you free. So get ready for some noise.
I'm gonna cover your face for protection, all right?"

The man on the ground moaned a reply and his fingers crawled
on the grass in affirmation. Roy took off his turncoat and 
lay it over the man's head and body. He used the edge of the biophone
to keep an open view of the man's face to watch for any color changes
there. 

Marco Lopez fired up the circle saw and tapped Johnny on the shoulder
to get out of the way. Gage scrambled to join Roy by the gear boxes
at the man's head and there he busied himself with getting a double
set of I.V.s  laid out and ready for a doctor's go ahead.

Lopez lowered his face shield and dug the blade into the car door's
hinges to slice them apart.

A loud crackle made everyone yell.

A brief repowering surged through the power pole wires and one of
them touched the car and sent Marco flying. The K-12 spun into
high gear where it was wedged into the car and sang angrily.

The electricity also made the man cry out and twist up in a spasm.

Johnny and Roy jerked away from the car and the man. Gage took a risk
and used both his gloves, wadded up, to flick off the K-12 so that it wouldn't 
cut itself free and fall on top of the man. 

Roy whirled, crawling around the once again live wires to Lopez's
side. "Marco?!" The hispanic firefighter was on his back, cradling his 
hands into his lap where he lay. Roy crawled on top of him to protect him
from any more wires. "You ok? Did any of that power get to you?"

"Ahh!... yeah. A little bit. I'm ...kinda short.....of breath.. And..
Ow!..*gasp*  I think I jammed one of .....*gasp* ..my fingers." 

Roy looked down and saw an index finger jutting out at a ninety in
a direction that it wasn't meant to bend in. "You did more than that.
Just try to keep your head down!" puffed Roy.  He held Marco's legs still
with his own when a muscle spasm jerked through the fireman's
body involuntarily. He kept a hand on Marco's wrist to monitor the 
bounding pulse there. "Easy.. Don't move. I can see Cap running
to call the power company back. I'll help hold you still. You managed
to land in the only safe spot in the area..."

"Roy?! You guys ok?!" came Gage's voice. 

Roy didn't dare lift his head. "Yeah... Marco's conscious..
You?!"

"We're fine. G*dd*mned power company. I'll kill em as soon
as we get out of here!"

Roy chuckled, "Let's just concentrate on getting out of here first
junior! Worry about the rest later.."

There was a pause around the hissing popping noises. 
DeSoto didn't dare try to see where they were coming from.

"How's he doing?!" Johnny asked from that direction.

"Some cardiac changes. He's SOB." Roy said, burying his
face a little deeper into the smoky grass. "Awake for now."

Marco's face contorted as another series of muscle cramps
shot through his thrumming body. An involuntary groan slipped out.

Then the radio snapped into life from Roy's pocket. ##Hang in there
fellas. The power's going back off. A construction crew down the road
didn't realize that we were on emergency shutdown. I see you're
all ok and that Marco's still awake. Just keep still with your helmets 
on and I promise you a solution in less than a minute. ## came Cap's 
welcome, amazingly calm voice.

::Guess that's why they pay him the big bucks.::
Roy tried to lighten the mood where the two of them huddled on the ground.
"Hell of a way to earn a little vacation time, Marco, you know that?" he said, 
flinching when a snaking wire swung a little too close near their heads.

Marco tried to laugh but a convulsion got in the way. Roy turned
him onto his side and just hugged him closer, loosening his turnout
and uniform shirt collars away from his neckline. "Keep still. Just
a minute or so longer.."

Lopez began to fight to breathe as his muscles cramped up from
the voltage's earlier violation and the pulse under DeSoto's fingers
started to skip beats.

"Marco?"  Roy asked from where he lay across the fireman's stomach.

-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Photo:  A car accident with downed powerlines.

Photo:  The L.A. river bed, choked with brush.

Photo:  Marco carrying jaws.

Photo:  Roy over a downed Marco.

Photo:  Johnny and Roy stunned, and lying on their backs in smoke.

Photo:  Roy huddled down close on top of something, scared stiff.

***************************************************************************
From:  "patti keiper" <pattik1@hotmail.com> 
Date:  Sun Dec 19, 2004  4:22 pm 
Subject:  The Other Side...

offstory-
 
Medical Researched Material Linked to  M.D. Consultants : 

BENOIT BAILEY, MD, MSc, 
PIERRE GAUDREAULT, MD, 
ROBERT L. THIVIERGE, MD
Paris, France
  
onstory-

Marco's eyes weren't seeing anything, staring and seemingly
sightless, pointed upwards to the sky in an unfocused gaze.
His whole body spasming took on a unified tetany and then, 
he froze that way, extending every muscle. "R---r,  g-get off 
my chest.  Cru---sh---ng me."

Roy, keeping low and away from the lashing wires spitting
electricity so near them, subconsciously glanced down in worry,
even as he held down Marco's shoulders to keep him from
touching any of the swaying power lines buzzing angrily around
them.

DeSoto was nowhere near Lopez's upper torso to cause any pressure 
there. Not with any part of his body. "Marco...can you hear me? Are 
you having chest pain right n--?"

Marco hissed, the color draining from his face as
he contorted at its unexpected arrival. "Y---sss!!" he gurgled.

The pulse Roy held at Marco's wrist, disappeared and Marco
gasped, suddenly air hungry.

Shifting onto his stomach, the flax haired paramedic immediately 
reached higher up on Marco's arm, grabbing for the groove where 
Marco's brachial artery lay. He found the pulse again. It was 
fitful and way above 150 beats a minute; his rhythm, oddly disjointed.

Tipping his head way back didn't help with Marco's shortness of breath
in the slightest. His attempts to breathe were still hitched and irregular,
barely adequate.  Roy tore away his shirt, tearing off buttons as
he got down to Lopez's heavily sweating skin.

DeSoto put an ear to Marco's ribs. He heard the liquidy rubbing
gravely sound of rales beginning to take an ominous hold inside 
of the fireman's lungs.

His head whipped up. "Johnny,... Marco's V-tachy! Over 150 with
irregularities, with marked rales. No radial pulses. LOC's way down.
We have to manage something for him...now! I've no head room 
to work if he goes into cardiac arrest!" he said, keeping shifting,
panicky eyes on the swinging cables sparking around him.

Gage tried shouting over the roaring ping of raw power zinging
in cabled tangles over his helmeted head to Cap. He couldn't
move or get eye contact because of the crumpled bulk of the
automobile. He had to stay laying over his own victim, the dazed car 
passenger, to fend off the wires as best he could with a piece
of the splintered telephone pole. "Cap!! Hey!..We gotta get
Marco out of there, now! He's unstable!"  

But Hank's back was momentarily turned, shouting orders to 
the growing neighborhood crowd, to get further away from the 
area.

As yet, there was no sign of Chet and Stoker reappearing 
along the ropes cast over the riverbed's wall. Johnny wasn't even 
sure if they could hear the snapping and popping of electricity 
shooting into the downed powerlines.

Fruitlessly, Johnny searched his turnout jacket for an HT.  But he 
didn't have one with him. The squad radio was in the hands
of his partner, who couldn't let go of Marco's head at all or
risk losing a tenuous open airway.

Yelling in frustration, Gage's gloves shot out and he dragged the 
biophone on the grass nearby into ready reach. Then quickly,
he hailed out. "Rampart, this is Squad 51! Come in!"

A long space of fifteen seconds passed before the voice of Dr.
Brackett replied. ##Unit calling in, this is Rampart. Go ahead..##

Johnny abbreviated his out transmission. "51! Male Code I, electrical shock.
Fall : standing to the ground. Unstable V- tachyarrythmias. 150 plus. BP 
under 90. Conscious! I'm separated from Roy, who's on him. I'm with all 
gear under loose live voltage wires out of direct access! Orders?"

Dr. Brackett shoved the phone a little closer to his ear. He squinted
and straightened up in alarm at the hair raising din of energy howling
almost completely over Johnny's voice. ##Are you within tossing
range?## 

"Affirmative!!"  yelled Johnny, as he pinwheeled an arm round and 
round, until Cap finally noticed him.  He whistled, pointing to Marco,
making a cut throat gesture, then jerked a thumb over his shoulder
to show that Lopez needed an immediate out.

##Ok, Johnny. Now listen close......## said Kel over the phone.
Johnny plugged his other ear in order to hear him better. 

Gage saw Hank's head cast around rapidly for a ready answer and 
he held up a hand in a hasty I got it, wait, move.

Johnny heard Hank recalling Chet and Stoker to the engine distantly
over Roy's radio. It echoed around the houses on the block, lacing
through the spits and whines and howls of power curling in the air
around them.

Then he did something else which made Johnny nod in complete
and total agreement.. "Yeah.. yeah.. That'll work. Bring it on in!"

Brackett's voice over the landline was terse, focused.
## Six milligrams, adenosine rapid IVP into a Normal Saline line! Flush
through 10ml NS bolus. Then recheck for conversion. If none in 1 to 2,
double it with a second flush!  Get him out of there, 51! I don't care 
how you do it. With those findings, his crash potential's a guaranteed 
certainty in as short as five! Forget about any C-spine precautions! 
Saving his life's more important! His contact with a wire at ground level, 
most likely didn't break anything critical. ##

"6 of Adenosine in NS IV. Push 10ml's same solution. Double in 1 to 2!" 
Johnny spat back in intense concentration.

##Confirmed. Move, Gage! Re-contact only when you guys have him!##
shouted Brackett.

Kel heard the clatter of the phone onto something made of metal and
the line went dead, or so he thought, but then the liquid lava spit of electricity
burned his ear. He gripped the phone in frustrated anticipation.

Johnny Gage snatched a hand each into the IV and drug boxes and
pulled out tubing, a fluid bag, needles, and three packs of pre-mixed 
adenosine in the right dosages. 

He stripped off his belt and bundled the pack together tightly. 
Then he swung the medicines around his head like a bolo
and he horse whistled, piercingly, until Roy's head shot up
again from where he crouched over Marco's chest and face.

Lopez was no longer blinking, nor moving,.. and his color was
almost completely, the washed gray of old river mud. Only his
chest rising and falling in unregular jerks showed that he had 
any shred of fighting life inside of him. Thin choking moans
trickled out of his mouth, which Roy soothed away with fast
encouragements and what he was doing to help him. 

Johnny let the bundle fly at the top of an arch and it arrowed
through the maze of snaking power lines through the air
at Roy....

The bag of I.V. saline slipped out and impacted a wire
in an explosion of steam, which made both paramedics flinch
sharply. But the rest, Roy caught with all the skill of a practiced
soft ball catcher. ::Thank you, Chet.:: Roy thought, ::For making
me be your soft ball umpire in the backyard all summer long.::

Johnny swore, and grabbed up a second bag, which he
threw it like a football into a gap between the wires.
It got through and sailed into Roy's chest, and bounced, undamaged
into his hands. Then Gage crouched once more over the biophone 
while his other hand kept tabs on the car victim's carotid.

Roy moved until he could keep Marco's head tipped at the proper
angle with his knees. He began to work leaning on his elbows
over Marco's shivering body.

"Marco. I got help right here. Keep still while I start your I.V."
said DeSoto, breathless and strained. Lopez didn't act like he 
heard Roy and he screwed up the arm Roy wasn't pinning down 
with a shoulder, against his chest in renewed pain. "No.. don't 
fight me Marco!..." Roy grunted. "Can you hear me?!"

"AgggGG-gh! *gasp* Make...it.....st-----"
Something in Marco's eyes shifted, moving from agony, to fear
and all of his muscles loosened, just a tad. It was all Roy needed.
He spoke again as he pushed a fast needle into a vein using
a strip from Marco's torn shirt as a tourniquet.  He strung a line,
barely bleeding it fully of air before he injected the internal cell 
energy hormone into the infusion chamber followed by the plasma
bolus wash. The increments on the two syringes couldn't empty
to zero fast enough for Roy and he yelled in frustration at the slowness
at which they were delivering. He killed the time by talking, urgently soft.

"This'll med'll do that.. As fast as I can get it into ya... Try to do something 
else for me that might ease that pain in your chest." Roy urged. "Take a 
deep breath and blow it out against your nose and mouth without letting any 
air escape...."

Marco sobbed, unable to control the muscles of his lips to obey Roy. 

"Take another breath in. Bigger.. That's it...now...hold it." And Roy covered 
Marco's nose and mouth firmly so air couldn't escape. "Blow it out, hard,
against my fingers. That's it.. Do it for ten seconds and I'll let ya go."

Roy followed up the valsalva attempt by leaning an arm over Marco's
abdomen to increase the pressure just enough inside of him internally,
to make Lopez tighten his face with resisting effort, but not with any pain.

"Ok...let it out... let it out...easy....." said Roy, pulling his hand away.
His other one monitored the racing tachycardic pulse in Lopez's neck.
".....blow it out slow... Now breathe, best you can, like normal..."

The skipping beats underneath Marco's skin slowed, almost to normal, 
for long seconds.. But then the crushing chest pain and shortness of breath 
and the dangerous rain of rapid beats, returned to reinstate themselves
with a vengeance. Lopez choked as he re-immersed into difficulty.

Roy turned him over onto his left side. "Ok, ok...it didn't work. Just relax.
I got you..That move usually resolves any tachycardia on the first try. We
won't do that again. Sorry for giving you nausea... Johnny! Tell Brackett! 
Valsalva and first dose. No effect!.. I'm timing it for the second!" he
shouted, looking at his watch while he held Marco's head still in his lap.

"Got it! Stand by!" hollered Gage.

DeSoto's head snapped to the right as a new sound of power filled his
ears. It was the squad, thunking tires up onto the curb, with Cap behind
the wheel. He was coming to get them. "To your left! Your fenders will
push the wires away! Then I think I can get Marco into the cab with
us!" ::Smart idea.. the tires'll insulate us from any wire he drives over.
I can tell him when none are in contact with the chassis for the rest of it.::
Roy decided.  He shouted directions until he was absolutely sure
the rescue squad wasn't getting infused with electricity. 

Then he snatched open the passenger side door in a guts move.
Cap's eager hands grabbed Lopez by the collar and back of pants
and dragged him into the squad belly down. He shifted him upright
against himself into a hug and caught the I.V. bag and line Roy was 
protecting as Lopez moved. "Get in!" Hank shouted. "Then roll up
the window, tight! Use this asbestos tarp to insulate yourself and 
Marco away from all the exterior metal, Iike I did with mine.

Roy did so, flopping Marco's head back over his shoulder,
once he was done. Hank had had the foresight to grab an ambu
bag and this Roy began using to help Marco with his inhalations.
The IV bag continued running,  just over KVO, hanging from DeSoto's 
teeth.

Lopez fought the mask over his face but Hank and Roy managed to
pin down his arms enough for it to work and some of the worst of the grayish
blue coloring began to recede.  One handed, Captain Stanley
made a U- turn away from the crashed car so they wouldn't endanger
Johnny with the wires they were accumulating in tangles against
the hood and light rack of the squad.

Hank pulled far enough away to break all the wires knotted around them
from the energized transformers. Then he got out, and between him
and Roy, they shoulder walked Marco to an open space and lowered
him to the ground as carefully as they could.

All the motion roused Marco enough that he managed without the
ambu breathing support but Roy didn't count on that lasting and hurried
to connect it up to some oxygen from the engine's apparatus.

Johnny had completed getting his medical orders for the man 
under the car so he accepted the rope Kelly tossed in order
to tie off the biophone so that it could be dragged into the safety
of the street for Roy to use. The same went for the drug box
and other gear.

Right then, the power went off in the main neighborhood line
and all the writhing lengths of electrical wire dropped into 
smoking, stinking stillness.

Chet and Stoker wasted no time in helping Gage get
the car accident victim's extrication by K-12 going again, 
followed by a thorough long boarding evac complete
with a C-collar and the one hare traction splint that they had
found that they needed for a left femur fracture.

Roy re-established contact with Rampart in seconds.

##Johnny's already told me about the valsalva maneuver and the 
adenosine not working well enough. Any further improvement? ##
the worried doctor asked.

"None.." replied Roy, as he watched Cap start to hook Marco
up to the EKG monitor. Marco was only gasping, no longer
trying to speak, on his back under a flowing oxygen mask.
"He needed assistance breathing a few minutes ago."

Roy couldn't wait... He kicked open the defibrillator with a foot
and got out the paddles for a quick peek, and he settled them
onto Marco's panting chest. He spoke into the phone receiver
that he had perched onto a shoulder. "Rampart, I'm reading 
gross multifocal ventricular bigeminy with a rate of 160.
Stand by for telemetry on your end to confirm it." DeSoto, said,
shoving the I.V. bag under one of Marco's shoulders. 
He bumped it up into wide open to get set for more meds.

There was a long pause as Cap and Roy both fumbled to set
the EKG Tetronix's controls on strongest signal and to wire
the unit into the biophone output port. 

Johnny kept looking up at them as he and the others worked
to free the man completely from under the car. He only vaguely
heard Chet acknowledge that Chopper Ten was starting a run
along the riverbed, looking for the car's tossed out driver. He
was very concerned by the audible chaos coming from Marco's
cardiac tracing. "Roy? What does it show?"

DeSoto told him.

"Man, Brackett's gonna order a cardio--" Johnny started to say.

## I concur with you wholeheartedly, 51. Unstable ventricular
tachycardia. What are the rest of his vital signs?"

"B/P ......." Roy spoke, breathing fast,....." ..'s  78 over P. Rate's
still the same with barely palpable carotids. Respirations are irregular
and work of breathing's marginally poor on fifteen liters of O2."
 
## Looks like we have no choice, 51. You're gonna have to
give him a shock to cardiovert him into a more stable rhythm before 
you transport..##

Cap's eyes didn't like the sound of that. They filled immediately
with alarm. "Can you do that while he's still awake?"

Roy licked his lips and nodded reluctantly. "When we have to.
It won't be too fun at all. For him, or for me."

## 51, is your victim still conscious?##

DeSoto lifted up the receiver once more. "That's affirmative, doc. Very. 
And he's feeling....a lot." cracked Roy's tired voice.

A long thoughtful, I don't like it sigh was heard clearly over the
biophone line. ##....ok, Roy. Let's get the job done. Now I don't have
to tell you twice. Get set for a full blown ET intubation in case this doesn't 
work out. Prepare for v-fib, the worst case scenario. Make sure you have
enough personnel on hand to handle it...##

"10-4, Rampart...uh, we do." Roy said quietly, looking to Cap, who gave a
silent command for Kelly and a policeman to peel off their coats in order
to provide CPR help. Hank himself, crouched at Marco's head, setting the 
waiting, clear rubber, O2 filled ambu bag, onto his knees.

DeSoto didn't like the idea. 

::Who knows how badly his heart's already been damaged by all that electricity. 
Simply adding more might throw him into unconvertible fibrillation due to 
excessive energy induced ischemia. :: Roy thought.

Roy found his eyes being met by Marco's in a strange moment of
clarity.::Do it...:: Lopez seemed to say through them.::I trust you, Roy::

DeSoto looked away from Marco's face and almost started pumping up the 
BPcuff again just to bury his burgeoning negative emotions into such a familiar 
task. :: In less than two minutes, I might be cutting Marco's life short, permanently.::

Kel Brackett broke him out of the frightening, nightmarish possibility.
##Roy, I'm now seeing a wide complex tachycardia in the range of 170.
We can't wait. We can't allow this to go on. His system won't tolerate it
much longer.##

"Doc, I've never done one of these before in the field. Johnny's gutsier,
maybe he oughta be the one t--"

##Johnny isn't here. He's up to his elbows in extrication gear trying to save
the life of our victim number one. Now bone up and save victim number two
and push any personal feelings you may have aside. If you haven't learned to 
trust the orders of your attending MD in eight years working as a full fledged 
paramedic, you'll never learn it.  I'll walk you through the whole thing, as it
happens, just like I do any first year resident physician. ##

"I'm not a physician."

##No, you're an extension of one. A fully authorized, long arm coming
directly off of........me... So quit stalling.  Listen carefully...
The difference between defibrillation and cardioversion is 
that the countershock is synchronized to the QRS complex which 
allows the electric current to be delivered after the R wave and 
before the period associated with the T wave. There's a toggle 
I didn't show you in training on the back of the defibrillator. Switch
it on now.  See the yellow flashing light on your monitor screen?
You've just  engaged the synchronization button. That blinking yellow dot
is a marker that appears only when your victim's heart reaches the R wave
of the heart beat cycle. When you deliver your shock, do it only when that dot 
appears. This will insure that counter shock is delivered during the QRS 
complex, the most optimum time to regain a normal sinus rhythm. 
Now keep your strip on. I wanna see what you get through the whole thing.
Set your charge to 100 watt seconds and gel up. We'll perform the
actual cardioversion once we get your patient prepared properly.
Any questions?##
 
Roy was speechless.

##Fine. I'll take that as a no. Do your standard first. 100 mg's Lidocaine
IV push and let's see what happens.##

Roy gave Marco the medication as fast as he could, as pure nervous
adrenaline made his fingers fly. "No change, doc. He's still the same."
DeSoto reported shakily.

##Ok, let's abandon that approach. Give him some Propofol 2.5 mg/kg IV
...on my order only.  Now this sedative will be extremely short acting. 
Four or five minutes tops after the initial sixty seconds following its delivery into
his blood stream. His breathing will be suppressed, so help it along.
This dose will buffer him from recollecting the pain that'll come from the 
countershock but it won't knock him out. We need him awake because he'll 
be less apt to vomit during the counter shock : a complication from which he could
die due to aspiration. He'll recover from the propofol momentarily if we're
successful, but his BP will fall below where it is now. Bradycardia might
set in afterwards, too. But don't worry, we'll cross that bridge when we come to
it. Give him another 100 mg's Lidocaine at your next five minute mark.
After we cardiovert, switch over to a ˝ Lidocaine dose of 50 mg's every
five because he's still in shock, up to another 100 mg's. I'll allow you
to attempt synchronized cardioversion up to four times. First
the 100 joules, then 200, then 300 and finally 360. If he doesn't catch,
we'll try something else medication wise. Remember, if your clinical
conditions go critical at any stage of the game, go to unsynchronized
shocks like you normally do for v-fib. Ready?... Give him the propofol, 
Roy.  His R on T's are greater than 6 per minute now. Roy,..remember all 
that I've told you...you .....you................you....##

In a haze, Roy gave Marco the sedative through his gushing, richly flowing I.V.

Then he reached for the defibrillator paddles and held them up for Cap
to gel once Marco stopped tensing and began swallowing mechanically.

Cap gave the lightly sedated Lopez two breaths on ambu, then
he lifted its mask up in the air to get out of the way..

Roy set the paddles down onto the framing positions around
Marco's heart.

----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
::Mama!  I don't want to die!::  cried Marco, deep inside..

A warm rush of energy lifted him up that was almost a noise
and the horrid thudding in his ears faded away into silence.

Puuffffhhhhhhh....  Air went into his lungs. Effortlessly.

Puuuufffffhhhh..  It was getting easier. He didn't have to work so hard anymore.

Puuuufffffhhhhhhhhhhh..... So Lopez .....gave up and just let it happen.

Marco opened his "eyes" into a bright white light that offered
the purest peace and comfort...and saw.......and ............saw.........

.......  ::Papa?::

Tears filled Marco's eyes at the sight of the man he hadn't seen
since the night he died just two days after his tenth birthday.

Lopez reached out to touch his face lovingly.

JOLT!

------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
Marco's body arched upwards under Roy's hands, accepting
the gift of change, reacting to the conversion energy and
the sedative with a myoclonus effect. A flood of tears poured
out of both Marco's eyes.

It surprised Cap, who almost didn't offer Lopez another
breath on the bag while it was happening.

"Dr. Brackett..." started Roy in alarm over the phone on his
shoulder.

##It's all right on my end. I think it's working. Pay no mind
to that muscular reaction. Keep maintaining his airway
and breathing. He'll come out of it.##

Immediately,.. an  innocent innocuous unadulterated sinus rhythm 
of fifty started knitting itself across the defibrillator's EKG monitor.

Roy sighed........and smiled the most heartfelt grin Cap had
ever seen on a fireman.

Marco soon after, started breathing well enough, on his own.

Just in time for Gage to see as he trudged by with a 
patient loaded stokes headed for a Mayfair.
"Did it work?"

"You have to ask?" remarked Chet. "He's doing absolutely terrific
now. Look......."And Kelly pointed out the regular clockwork squiggles on 
Marco's rhythm strip. "And we got Roy and Doc Brackett to thank for it, too." 
Kelly added.

"Don't forget the big man upstairs..  You forgot Him again, Chet,
I'm a professed Lutheran." Roy reminded him.

"Oh, yeah, Him, too.." and Kelly hastily crossed himself.
"Man, I wonder if Marco realizes how close he came to biting the big one..."

Johnny smirked as he walked by. "Guess we'll have to ask him once
he comes to mentally in the ambulance. Nice work, Roy. I couldn't have done
better myself."

"Oh yes you could. Brackett's one hell of a doctor. He'd make Kelly here
raise the dead if it was possible." said Roy, taking another blood
pressure reading on Marco.

"I shudder the thought...." muttered Cap, switching out the ambu bag for
a regular non-rebreather. "Lopez's set. He's at 18 a minute again. 
I better go head up the search for the third victim...... Kelly.."

"Hmm?"  said Chet.

"Come with me."

"Oh, uh, ok, Cap."

-------------------------------------------------------------------

Photos: None.

********************************************************
From :  Roxy Dee <laterrapincabesa@hotmail.com> 
Sent :  Wednesday, December 22, 2004 3:59 PM 
Subject :  The Christmas Gift~~ 


There was a distant, high pitched wailing in his ears. 

Frowning, Marco coughed and opened his eyes in
puzzlement. He found himself staring at a double set
of sunlit windows over his toes from where he was
sitting. He was propped upright on something soft and 
yielding, under his butt and legs. ::An ambulance cot.:: he 
realized. Two I.V. lines were swinging against the side of 
his face and bumping his cheek, so he lifted a hand to
push them away. ::I don't understand...where is he?::
he thought muzzily. :: Father was right here..::

"Marco...." said a masculine voice. "Are you with me yet?"
it asked and then Lopez felt a warm grip stop his hand from
touching the I.V. tubing.

Lopez blinked. He knew that voice and tried to speak, but
it came out as a nonsensical liquidy groan. A face leaned
in and blocked out the bright glow from the windows and
tugged on something hissing until it cupped around his nose
and mouth more tightly. ::This's O2. I'm hurt?:: Surprise
registered on Marco's face and he finally formed a question.
And a name finally popped into recall of who was sitting above him
along with half a dozen emotions. ::That's Roy..:: and he shifted
restlessly under the beige blanket, feeling straps snugged
across his body. Anger and fear, coursed through him.
"How'm I ...d-doing?" he gasped.

"Easy. You're still coming out of sedation. Don't be surprised
if you feel agitated inside emotionally. That's normal. Did you 
feel me shock you a few minutes ago?" asked Roy.

"Didn't...feel a thing." Marco said, still clearly remembering the
soft lines of his father's face that he had seen in that strange 
soothing nether light when he had given up. "Roy..."

"Yeah.." Roy said, looking up from the blood pressure he
was taking on Marco.

"Did I die?"

DeSoto's eyebrows went up at the question but the smile
he offered Marco on his face, didn't shift a single millimeter.
Roy shook his head. "We never lost a pulse on ya. You went
from VT to NSR instantly without a hitch. Cap only had to help
you breathe a couple of times on the bag when the sedative's
full effect hit ya. There were no complications at all." he grinned.
"That chest pain left yet?"

"It's gone." Marco sighed. 

"Figured it was just that rapid heartbeat doing it..Let me listen
to your chest to see if your lungs have cleared up yet."

Marco blinked, nodding. "What have you got me on? I still feel
kinda strange.."

Roy chuckled. "Doc ordered a little MS for ya. You got a little
combative when we were loading you up because you were still
a little out of it. And you're on a Lidocaine drip to keep a normal
rhythm...Ok, take a deep breath.."

Marco did.

"And another one.." said Roy, sliding the drum of his stethoscope
over to his left side along the side of his ribs.

"And again." Roy said, leaning him forward so he could listen
to Marco's back. Then he rocked back onto the caregiver
seat and jotted down a few notes. "Your edema's clearing
nicely."

"What was that from? I wasn't in any smoke...." Lopez coughed.

"Sometimes when your heart races too fast, fluid can build up
in your lungs. That was one reason why we had to slow it down
pretty quick."

"So I'm all right now?" Marco asked, keeping still and 
studying the tape holding his arm straight on an I.V. board.

"You're stable." Roy admitted. "Dr. Brackett will give you a 
good going over once we reach Rampart to see if there are
gonna be any secondary cardiac side effects from the shock 
you took from the power lines. He'll look for signs of internal
damage coming from other areas. Your muscles might have
suffered circulation problems that won't pop up until later. You
remember those spasms that kept coming?"

"How can I forget? They hurt like h*ll. Now I know what Cap
went through when he messed with a power line."

"That's a good sign."

"What, that my pain was so bad?" Lopez grinned faintly.

"No, it's the fact that you remember what happened to you 
at the scene that's good." DeSoto replied.

"Oh..." said Marco. "I remember a few other things, too."

Roy shifted in his seat, staying respectfully quiet while
he kept an eye on Marco's live EKG monitor. Not a single
PVC was marching across the screen as it had been doing
by the dozens before his emergency cardioversion. Feeling
confident on the strength of the turn around, Roy closed up
and packed away the defibrillator resting between Marco's
legs and set it onto the rider's bench next to him. Then he
folded his hands together and just listened, meeting Marco's
eyes gently with his own.

"Do you believe in the afterlife, Roy?" Marco said after
a few seconds.

"I do. You don't grow up going to services once a day and twice
on Sunday without having a pretty strong faith in an idea like
that." Roy grinned.

"I'm Catholic. Maybe not as devoted as you and Joanne
are to the Lutheran faith. Mama and I go to church once a month, 
maybe twice if we can afford it, and go cook for the congregation. 
In fact, we've just finished organizing a dinner benefit ....for Christmas
coming up in the next couple of days. But what I'm saying is.... 
I think I died, Roy. Maybe just for a split second. Because 
whereever I was..I saw my father, as clearly as you and I are 
seeing each other right now. And he's been dead for twenty five
years. It was so real. I could smell his cologne...I could feel the heat 
coming from his cheek when I tried to reach out and touch him,
and it made me cry, Roy."

"Hypoxia does funny things to the mind when a person's in shock.
You had a short time in the squad where you weren't getting
enough oxygen. We had to hold you down to force some
air into ya until your color pinked up again. You didn't die, Marco. 
You were conscious the whole time I was with you. This EKG strip
shows that you had a constant heart beat throughout your
treatment. Take a look..."  and he pressed the red gridded white
paper roll into Marco's hands and he helped him scroll through it
to the point where the bigeminy was shocked into a sinus rhythm.
"But it doesn't matter if you were clinically dead or not. That's not important. 
If you know you saw your dead father, then you did. Perhaps it was your mind's 
way of getting you through a life threatening crisis that was at the time, extremely 
unpleasant physically. A self preservation instinct, if you will. But the experience 
you had holds the same significant meaning regardless of what brought it on, 
Marco. And you're gonna have to figure out what its impact is gonna be and find 
out why it happened to you in order to understand it fully through a way that
works best for you."

"What did you feel, Roy?" Lopez said, fingering the place on the EKG 
strip where the tracing had gone from a life threat to a normal state.

"I'm afraid I don't understand." DeSoto admitted, leaning on his knees
with his palms.

"Last year, you were dead for several minutes after you hit that line
and fell off the roof during that house fire. Karen the trainee said that
you had no heartbeat at all when she found you and brought you back
using the defibrillator. Did you see anything like what I saw, during it?"

Roy looked down at the question, studying his shoes, when he got
Lopez's reference. He laced his fingers together thoughtfully in front of 
him. "I remember feeling scared for the woman in that bedroom
with me. I wasn't thinking clearly about the fact that the ladder under
my foot wasn't one of ours. It was a stupid mistake. I was surprised
I wasn't written up for it later on after I recovered."

Marco heard the sirens over their heads shut off as they entered
Rampart's back driveway from the boulevard. "Roy..." he insisted,
wanting an answer before it was too late to get one.

DeSoto replied. "Easy, don't get worked up. It'll mess up your blood pressure.
I'll answer your question." And he started to take down Marco's I.Vs. 
from the ceiling hook, transferring them to the cot pole. "I saw someone 
that day, yes." he whispered. "And ...it was just a little boy. A stranger,
with...with....with red hair, about four years old. And this is the odd part, Marco...
I knew ...without a shred of a doubt, that that little boy standing in front of me...
was going be my future son in two years time. A second son for me and 
Joanne, slated to be born on Christmas Eve.....1977."

Lopez's mouth flopped open. "That's next year.."

"How's that for a mysterious life after death experience....?" Roy 
asked seriously. "Count your blessings, Marco. You could've had a 
vision like mine." he said quietly. "Joanne and I still don't know
what to make of it."

Lopez crossed himself and said a silent benediction.

Soon, no further talk was possible on the subject because rushing 
orderlies pulled open the doors of the Mayfair once it completed its 
backing maneuver, to wheel Marco into Dr. Brackett's awaiting 
treatment room.

---------------------------------------------

Photo:  Roy bagging a patient inside a Mayfair.

Photo:  An overhead shot of the squad and ambulance
             parked in the emergency entrance lot.

Photo:  Rampart's ambulance entrance door, open next
             to the squad.

******************************************************************
From:  "Champagne Scott" <chameleonkate@hotmail.com> 
Date:  Mon Jan 10, 2005  6:31 pm 
Subject:  A Matter of Perspective

Captain Stanley collapsed the antennae of his walkie 
talkie radio and he put it into his pocket with a sad sigh 
of discovery.  

The helicopter pilot had found the third car victim. 

He lay face up and battered at the mouth of a culvert 
in the shallows one fifth of a mile away from the accident 
site.
 
There was no mistaking the pale china blue rictor
of death and his fatal color. "Kelly! Stoker! Let's give it up!" He shouted 
to his two searching firefighters struggling through the river
channel's brush and debris islands with probe poles lofted straight
up over their heads. "He's been spotted by Chopper Ten.
And there's absolutely nothing in the world we can do for him." he 
motioned grimly, peeling off his helmet and gloves.

Hank tried not to look at the heavy disappointment that bloomed over
his men's faces. 

Cap knelt down near the high edge of the spillway
over the rappelling ropes hanging over the concrete wall.   
"I've been ordered to let L.A.P.D. and the coroner's department 
handle his body's recovery. They say they're gonna need the area 
around him intact and undisturbed for photos." he told Stoker and 
Chet quietly. "They just found a pack of cocaine in the trunk."

"We hear ya, Cap. Where is he?! We don't see him. " Chet yelled back. 
"Don't wanna step too close." he frowned, fighting to get out of the thick 
bulrushes and rhododendron tangles choking the riverway.

"In the storm drain, pal. To your one o'clock. Up on a small waterfall.
Looks like your way back to me's entirely clear of automobile debris so
don't worry about that." hollered Cap.

Kelly nodded, finally finding an open space in the wild growth
to push through. He took both Cap's offered grip and the rope and 
hauled himself up onto dry land.

Mike Stoker climbed onto the rusting gate covering the water redirect to 
catch a glimpse of the dead man for reporting's sake. Then he accepted 
Chet and Hank's firm hands for a pull out of the river basin.

"How's Johnny's victim?" Mike asked Cap, scraping the scummy mud off 
of his shoes on a twisted rock as he retrieved their climbing ropes into
potable coils.

"Stable. His rig left for Rampart soon after Roy's did. Marco's still doing fine.
He's awake now, and talking..."

Chet started to open his mouth. 

Cap stalled his question with a pointed index finger. 
"And yes, we'll be taking the engine there. I told L.A. that  we'll be 10-7 
for an hour and a half until Lopez's replacement can join up with us at the 
station."

Chet grinned, wiping muck off his chin. "Cap, taking the pumper to
the hospital without an official reason to? I'm surprised at you." he chided
teasingly.

Hank's eyes demonstrated being put on the spot and he cleared his
throat subconsciously. "I don't need one. I'm a fire department captain.
My station can be anywhere I put it in our service area. " he gruffed. 
"Unofficially, I'm doing it for a short welfare visit for morale's sake to cheer 
myself up. Now get moving and drive the squad in. Stoker can finish stowing 
the gear. He's a little faster than you."

"Yes, sir."

-------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Sleep would claim him, if he let it. Marco had only to close his
eyes and lean back against the softness of the gurney's pillow.

But he couldn't. 

He felt Roy's hand on his stomach, taking a count of his respirations 
yet again as he drifted.
  
Marco studied the age lines wrinkling on his coworker's forehead as 
DeSoto tipped his watch into a better viewing angle but they
blurred into nonsensicality. "..ohh...." he groaned, his arms and
legs jumping underneath the covers.

Biting his lip, Roy held Marco's I.V.s in the other hand so the ambulance 
attendants would be free to transfer Lopez onto the treatment bed that 
Brackett had already wheel locked into position. "Easy, Marco.
Almost there.." he said with another gentle touch on his patched in
shoulder.

Marco barely heard him.

---------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

More than anyone else knew; more than he himself knew, so much 
had changed within him, in ways that Lopez was only beginning to 
understand.

The need for rest weighed heavily across his chest. But Marco knew why he
put it off, why he tried to forestall its inevitable approach.

When he had been between twisted heartbeats, there had been the 
smallest possible glimpse, as his heart had passed through chaos back
into shocked order, of an instant that had been both remembrance and eternal 
non-time. For just that brief flash of consciousness, he had seen that which 
had been shown to him, so long ago in early childhood. Warm, happy
experiences of being snuggled in the firm security of his
father's loving arms as he laughed, while being tickled to death.

Lopez closed his eyes, ignoring Kel Brackett's questions and shaking, willing
himself towards that memory path again.

He had seen his father, his mother's beloved, inside of there. In a moment 
snatched from those years forever lost to him, in those few seconds, when
Bernardo had still been alive.  Bernardo had turned to Marco, one hand reaching
back to his, smiling as if he were about to say something...

There hadn't been time enough to hear what his words would have been. 
The vision of his face had gone as quickly as it had appeared; Marco hadn't
really even been conscious of it, until the jolting shock of the defibrillator  
came shooting through his body.. 

Only now, when he could allow his thoughts to sort themselves out, had
he remembered completely, what he had seen. What had been granted
to him. 

Marco wondered what it meant. Perhaps nothing, an oxygen and blood starved 
hallucination, perhaps a gift, a blessing.. Marco smiled ruefully, to appease a 
suddenly worried Kel and Roy before they resorted to a pain check. "I'm o.k...I'm 
just a little tired. Gimme a sec to get myself together." he whispered.
"And then I'll try to cooperate..." he grunted.

He saw their faces move away into a paramedic/doctor consultation.

It would have been just like Bernardo Lopez to have given him something
like that, something that would enable him to go forward and accomplish 
what he had to afterwards.

Falling now, Marco let himself sink. Toward that bright world, the other one,
inside of him, where he could hear the tender words that had been-- and
always were-- about to be spoken to him.

--------------------------------------------------------

"Kel." said Dixie, lifting her head. "Looks like he's going out."

Dr. Brackett moved to Marco's head, peeling a penlight out of one pocket.
He ran its white beam over his pupils lightly before he stepped
closer to examine the extruding EKG strip running out of the monitor.
"Go ahead and get another pressure, Dix, but I think he's ok. His eyes 
seem like they're in rapid eye motion, like they do when someone's
in a deep sleep state." he remarked in surprise. "Hmm, that's something 
that getting an electrical current overload won't account for."

Roy crossed his arms over his elbows, fidgetting, but he let himself smile.
"It's ok, doc. Marco always falls asleep like this after an injury. Even
for minor ones. He did this the last time he was in here, too."

"Really.." Brackett chuckled.

"As I recall...Last time was just last year from that accident at the gas station?"
Dixie remembered.

"Uh huh." Roy replied. "Marco never seems to ever pass out at all. He only 
does so when things are getting really bad like when his air bottle runs out in a 
really hot fire." 

"Oh, now I remember Marco's strange tendency. Mike said he snored up a 
storm. Morton said he got overly frustrated, until he finally tipped Marco's head 
back over the end of the table long enough to finish examining him." Kel
shared about Morton.

Roy just nodded, doing the same action to prevent any problems
after he transferred Lopez's oxygen supply line to the humidified
port in the wall.

"Ok." Kel sighed.. folding up his stethoscope and putting it back into
his lab coat. "His lungs sound almost entirely clear now. Dix, call the lab.. 
I want a chest X-ray and a full twelve lead cardiac study. Draw blood 
enough for a BUN and creatinine, CBC, cardiac electrolyte serum, 
blood glucose, and have them get some clotting indexes in case he 
needs surgery for that finger reduction later. Also, grab a UA by centesis 
after I get done giving him this sedative to calm these tremors down."

"Right away, Kel. His pressure's 100/76." Dix reported before moving to
the phone to order the tests Marco needed.

Kel glanced up. "Roy, you say he wasn't thrown far? I'm not noting
any signs of abdominal tenderness or guarding here." Dr. Brackett said 
palpating Marco's stomach carefully.

"That's right. Only about ten feet backwards from the car, onto some 
patchy grass and dirt. He was using the K-12 when it happened."

"Hmm, we got lucky there.." he said, moving on to look at the fractured
finger on Marco's hand. "This doesn't look so bad either. The burns on
his hands aren't even blistering."

"How's his neurological status?" said Dixie, returning to the bedside.

"Good to excellent. We got pretty philosophical on the way in."

"About what?" Kel asked.

"Marco thought he had a near death experience, doc. He said
that he saw his dad. Is such a thing possible with his kind of situation? 
I mean, his heart rhythm didn't ever stop on us."

"It is. He couldn't have been breathing too well with a tach rate that
fast. Slight hypoxia is all that's needed to cause changes in the brain
enough for someone to feel they've had an out of body experience."

Roy grinned. "Are you saying that you don't believe in all the stories
of people seeing things after they've been dead a short time?"

"That's exactly what I'm saying." Kel said. "I'm too practical, I guess,
to believe in such nonsense."

"Don't knock it until you've been there, doc." Roy said, without looking
away from Kel's skeptical eyes.

"You mean, you had a life after death encounter Roy?" asked Kel,
raising his eyebrows in surprise.

"I did. When I was in his shoes, last year." DeSoto said, gesturing
at Marco's sleeping form.

"I didn't read anything about that on your chart, Roy." 

"That's because...." Roy started up loudly..."..that's because.."
he whispered so he wouldn't wake Marco up." I thought I was
nuts at the time."

"Why would you think that? Who did you see in yours?"

"My future son." DeSoto said with tightly clenched lips. "And I'll also 
tell you, doc, that my experience wasn't entirely all warm and rosy 
like Marco's." Roy had to force himself to get out of Brackett's 
light while he completed Marco's care."I felt very uncomfortable
seeing him."

"Oh.. Uh...Sorry about that.  Well...don't worry, Roy. It's over
and done with. Uh...We'll keep up both of Marco's I.Vs. at a rate 
sufficient to offset myoglobinuric renal failure. I'm not going to allow 
any fasciotomies that might be needed on his arms because of 
compartment syndrome developing later on just because
of an unstable B/P that we can easily stabilize now. Here, help me 
turn him onto his side for those coming chest plates. Then we can 
get his course of meds going before he transfers to the ICU."

"The guys'll wanna see him, doc,.." DeSoto insisted. "..before he goes
upstairs."

"I'll allow that. There'll be time while we wait for the x-rays to develop."

"I guess I'd better collect Johnny and go meet the gang outside before
they get crazy ideas into their heads about trying to pile on in here." said
Roy, excusing himself.

 "I'll let you know when we're set." said Brackett. "Tell them Marco's
gonna be fine in a couple of weeks. Especially since he has
no keraunoparalysis."

"I will."

Roy left the treatment room to go stand by the ambulance entrance
to meet the rest of the gang. A quick status check to L.A. showed
them as already en route to Rampart Hospital.

He flagged down Johnny as soon as he reappeared from his
treatment room and moments later, DeSoto was 
telling him the good news about Marco.

----------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Photo: Doctor Brackett looking uneasy about a subject matter.

Photo: Roy in a treatment room in closeup.

Photo: Dixie bending over a bed near an I.V. setup.

Photo: Engine 51 driving right at you.

**************************************************************************
From:  "Cory Anda" <andacory@hotmail.com> 
Date:  Mon Jan 17, 2005  7:33 pm 
Subject:  The Gift of Life..
 

"Guys...Set the kettle down over there on
the back stove. Yeah, that's right. Then Marissa can
get the soup going and still have the front burners
free for saute'ing." suggested Marco from his comfortable 
chair in the center of the spacious room at Father Murphy's
Catholic Charities Soup Kitchen. "We are gonna be cooking 
for a hundred people before sundown, and not just 
for a few dozen or so."

Johnny mumbled around the fake smile he wore for
show for the hovering chattering church women who were
volunteering for the charity's dinner. "Roy,..are you
regretting helping out as much as I am right now?" he said
as he and Roy grunted under the heavy weight of the
enormous soup kettle that they were maneuvering between
them.

Roy, chided his partner, flashing a one hundred percent
genuine grin. "Where's that holiday spirit Johnny? I know
it's in there somewhere. You know we were the only ones able 
to help Marco out like this on such short notice. The rest
of the guys are still pulling a shift at the station. He's still 
under exertion restrictions, remember?"

Johnny's face locked down even tighter on his glued in
smile. "For a tiny jolt taken from a power pole? Roy, your 
defibrillating counter shock mixed up more of his brain 
and cardiac cells than that ever could of done."

"Shh, do you want him to find out that meeting his father
in the afterlife was actually an artifact from the paddles?
That'd doom any faith he has in the church and then some."
DeSoto reasoned, keeping his voice down to a quiet 
friendly sounding whisper. "Just pipe down and let's get
this done. They're opening the doors to the streets in an
hour and we'd better be ready with things on time."

"Ok, ok. Just...just let me get better leverage down here. 
Ugh.. Tip it back.. I got it on the bunsen coil. Right in the
middle." Gage strained. Then he said a little louder, "How's
this, Marco?"

"Perfect, amigo. Gracias." he said amid a chorus of gratitude
from all the women.

Soon the massive metal cauldron was surrounded by the bright
colorful aprons of the shelter volunteers descending in mass,
as they began dumping pounds of chicken, noodles, vegetables and
boullion into the pot. Rapidly, the gas line fire was poofed into
life underneath it.

Marco Lopez looked up from the hot chocolate one of the
church ladies had given him to go along with the afghan
now wrapping around his shoulders. "Thanks guys. the
neighborhood women and I really appreciate you coming out
tonight.." he said sipping from his steaming mug. "Here, 
take a break. Looks like I got a whole pot to myself.." he 
said shoving the cocoa tray and mug stack closer to Roy
and Johnny with a slippered foot. He plunked down his own 
mug and Marco reached over to begin peeling potatoes at top 
speed with a paring knife.

"Ah,, easy with that..." Gage said, pulling the blade out of
Marco's hand. "You're gonna cut yourself rushing like that.
Here, I'll do it.."

"Thanks, Johnny.." and Lopez rose from his chair painfully to
move over to the floor bound soup pot to do some light stirring 
with its three foot long steel cast ladle while the ladies around 
him filled it with delectables.

Roy grinned. "He's not on Valium you know." he said sotto voce
to Gage. "Just some Tylenol 3 for his muscle aches."

"Oh, hush. He's was napping five minutes ago. He might still be
groggy enough to get a little clumsy."

"Yes, mother Gage.." teased DeSoto, taking up a second peeler
to help Johnny add to the pile going into the soup pot. "Your
paramedic side's showing itself again."

"So's yours. You kept him from doing any lifting at all today."

"Then we're in the same boat now, aren't we?...Relax, Johnny,
in an hour, we'll be eating a truly well cooked meal with 
all the street folks and their families and we'll forget all about 
our sore backs."

"Do me a favor and keep reminding me of that, ok? Right now
my back's talking something fierce, all over that supposed 
angelic little voice of mine that's trying to praise me for doing all 
of this on our only day off." Gage said, stretching out a 
kink or two.

"Consider it done."

----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Darkness was falling softly over Los Angeles County when Father
Murphy finally threw open the doors of his charity to the line
slowly straggling in from the avenue. He laughed heartily in his
Santa's suit for all the kids shyly coming in with their guardians
to share the rare seven course feast.

Marissa, a red haired bubbly helper, threw off her apron just in
time to fan out coloring books and crayons for the youngest comers
along with a wrapped present or two for each, containing toys that
would survive their lives spent on the move and on the streets. 
"Here you go, loves. Come on in where it's warm. Dinner's almost 
ready." she said.

And soon, the tiny brick hall was filled with people sitting down in
front of the many plates and silverware lined up along the
simple folding tables setting in rows before the kitchen's
open counter.

Roy and Johnny and Marco were just about to duck out of the
way of the volunteers running by with steaming foil pans full
of food when Father Murphy dragged all three of them to the front
of the room before a tiny rainbow lit white Christmas tree.
"Folks, please. Can I have your attention for just a bit before
the nightly prayer?"  The Santa garbed padre held them firmly
in place with a friendly arm over their shoulders.

Ski capped heads looked up everywhere and all three firemen 
immediately flushed at being an unexpected center of attention.

"Now for this year's Christmas feast, we've been blessed with
the presence of some of Marco Lopez's closest firefighter friends, 
who've been helping us tirelessly all morning and through 
most of the day. Everybody, a big warm welcome for Roy 
DeSoto and John Gage, from Station 51 located in the suburb
of Carson. This is their first year volunteering with us and I'd like
to say, I couldn't have asked for a more dedicated pair of workers
than they. It's been said no one works harder than a firefighter
and I've been overwhelmingly ...moved.. to find that this wonderful
sentiment, is an absolute G*d given truth. Roy and Johnny 
everybody.."

Marco Lopez, with tears of gratitude in his eyes, starting clapping
first for them with warm nods of appreciation, which only increased
his coworkers' embarrassment at the memory of their earlier
grumbling.

Soon, shrill cheers and applause from all the volunteers and diners
alike, nearly brought the hall down. Roy and Johnny found that they 
couldn't escape fast enough into the sanctuary in back of 
the kitchen to recover their inner dignity.

Marissa, the street child activity coordinator winked at them as she
handed them two full plates, "Welcome to the family, boys. Here,
eat up and refill your plates as often as you like. Nobody goes
hungry on Christmas Eve."

"Wow,..." said Johnny.. "I...we., I mean, Roy and I ..sure 
appreciate this, Marissa. Thanks."

"My pleasure.. Excuse me fellas, but my place is with the kids.
I'm nanny to them all whenever they come to Father Murphy's 
so their real parents can relax and take a break for a while.
And now, this is time for yours. Don't worry about doing any dishes
at all. We've hired out some of the city's crime serving teens for 
that task. It'll be part of their community service obligations 
debt to the police and Ju-vee Hall to help us out tonight."

Johnny and Roy nodded their thanks and they settled in 
to the folding chairs Marco managed to petal in around 
the warm soup pot. It was almost surreal to have
a three foot high cauldron of food steaming fragrantly in
front of them and they revelled in it. "Thanks, Marissa.
Glad we could be here." said Roy. "This is a wonderful
charity you're offering up to all these street folks." he said 
shyly. "I've driven by this hall everyday on my way to work  
and I never even knew this place existed. We're....
very touched by your intense sense of dedication and
commitment, ma'am."

"Ah,, it's G*d's work, not mine, that I do, Mr. DeSoto. 
I'm just a messenger and caregiver to the youngest ones
and I, just simply, try be there whenever I can. It's folk like you 
and your coworkers who are the real life savers. I just keep 
people on track going about the business of wanting to live that 
life day to day, in truly bad times." Marissa said thoughtfully. 
"If you would excuse me now?.. Little Stevie's flagging me 
down."

All three of the Station 51 gang rose marginally from their chairs
as the cheerful young woman departed for the main dining
area and the children.

Soon, well fed and content, the three off duty firefighters
joined all the volunteers in handing out presents to
those who didn't have any yet from Father Murphy's red
velvet Santa's bag.

------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

In the kitchen, two scruffy teenaged boys ate from the serving
platters greedily.

"Is he watching?" said the first to the second.

The dark haired teenaged parolee casually eyed the police officer
standing in the main hall against a wall. The officer was laughing 
along with the others as presents were opened and displayed.

"No, man. He's feeling the Christmas spirit too much to notice us."

"Cool.. Then we can have a little fun." said the first, taller teen.

The second eyed his juvenile hall roommate distrustfully. "What
kind of fun?"

"The walking on fire kind. I betcha you can't do what I can do..Let's
see what kind of cajones you have, Punto."

"Hey, who are you calling Punto, Gordohead? I can do anything you
can do."

"All right..." and the oldest reached into his jeans pocket around
his sink apron and pulled out a dime. Lightly, he tossed it into
the deep french fryer that was full of boiling liquid lard. "Get it, and it's
yours. A symbol that earns my protection for you from the others
who are beating you up every night in the exercise cell."

Familiar with gang initiation and pledging, the second reached
for a scoop wire spoon for the task.

The first boy grabbed the second boy's wrist. "Not with that..
With your bare hand."

The second teen's eyes got real big. "Are you plain loco? I'll
get seriously roasted!"

"No you won't. You see, I'm sharper than your average jefe, caballero.
Use this on your skin first. Watch me, and then it's your turn."
said the light eyed leader boy.

He reached up onto a spice shelf over the cooker and pulled down
a jar of vasoline. He liberally spread it thickly over his arm
and fingers, until he was wearing a glove of goo. Then, lightning
fast, he plunged his hand into the hot bubbling vat of grease.

The leader's companion gasped, but the boy's hand came up
rapidly, with the dime, dripping but unharmed. The silver coin 
plunked with a flip toss onto the countertop, following a string of 
mirthless laughter. The leader had enjoyed horrifying his audience. 
"Your turn, amigo. Nothing to it."

"You're pure loco, man. I'm not doing it!" gaped the younger
of the two toughies.

"Does this feel burned to you?" said the oldest, gripping the younger's
hair in his greasy hand. "I'm offering you a one time only...offer for my 
personal kind of protection against your enemies. You know you'll die 
without it, despite of a fuzz being your shadow. This is your last 
chance and I suggest you take it,.."  he spat into his ear. "..friend..."

"Ok.. ok. ok.." bubbled the second teen, in fear, and he pulled
his head free from the leader's grip just before the police officer's
eyes glanced once in their direction in a bored presence check
and away again.

He reached for the jar of vasoline with a shaky hand.

-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

A blood curdling scream from the back kitchen sent the adults into
a scrambling flurry for the kitchen annex.

Johnny, Roy and Marco were just in time to see a young teen aged
boy dropping a steam scalded dime limply from his fingers 
right after he violently pulled his arm out of the french fryer. 

A plume of grease arched onto the floor and splashed the simmering
soup kettle's burner and the amber liquid immediately
caught on fire and crawled rapidly along the floor tiles, igniting an
even bigger puddle pooled there in front of the grinning
older teenager.

"Somebody get a fire extinguisher!" yelled Johnny.
"Marco, call the fire department!"

Roy tackled and then flung a towel over the screaming boy's arm
to snuff out the grease burning there that hadn't yet reached
any skin.  Then he pulled him away from the flaming part
of the floor to the water sink where he quickly flooded the
teen's fingers with a stream from the cold tap.

"What a stupid monkey!" celebrated the leader teen. "You
forgot to let go of the dime and it burned ya anyway!" he 
laughed at his younger companion.

Johnny heard a commotion from the hall and accepted the fire extinguisher
that Father Murphy tossed him, quickly ripping free its nozzle tie. 
He was about to use it when he saw what kind of extinguisher it was. 
"Roy, this is a water can.. We can't use this at all.." and he threw it 
away in disgust, dancing away from the flames. "We gotta get everyone 
outta here. If that soup ring's gas line flares...."

"I'm on it." and DeSoto rush guided his stunned, only finger 
seared teenager out of the room on Marco's heels.

Johnny threw away the useless extinguisher and  
whirled to push the laughing teen ahead of him into the police
shaparone's arms; ultimately to the front exit of the dining hall.

"Merry Christmas, Mister Cop and Fireman. " mocked the leader 
teen. "Hey, Father! How's that for a holy light?" he chuckled, 
maniacally pleased, throwing a hand back at the spreading grease fire.
"I kinda like it better than that paltry excuse of a Christmas tree
in the dining room."

Father Murphy's face barely contained a puzzled incomprehension
before an urgent panic to evacuate the street folk diners took it
over.

------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Marissa stood by the doors, holding them open as panicking people
fled the smoke filling charity hall. As men, women and children ran by,
she made sure she silently head counted.

Father Murphy had already lined up the first group along the far side 
curb, checking on how bad some might have been effected by the
thick smoke. He had torn off his Santa's hat and beard and was 
running from person to person, who was sitting or lying on the 
pavement, or coughing violently.

"Is that all of them?" Marco shouted to Marissa over the screams.

"Oh, my G*d..Meghan and Stevie are still inside. They were at 
the head table!" and Marissa struggled to get past Marco to go 
back inside to look for them.

"No.. get out of here. Johnny and Roy are checking for any
stragglers."

"But.."

"Just go, Marissa. We know what we're doing!"

She back away, reluctantly and was gone.

Right then, Johnny and Roy shoved the officer and the two
juvenile delinquents out the main glass doors and into Marco's arms,
exiting, too, from the black smoked cloud still regurgitating from
the kitchen with a vengeance. "Did you manage to get to
a phone, Marco? Here, grab him. He's getting all worked
up emotionally."

"Yeah. I got through.*cough*  I got him. Is that everyone?"

"We think so. Getting too hard to see anything."

Distracted, Marco and the two paramedics bore the grease 
singed boy away from the hall and suddenly to the ground 
when the overwhelmed boy fainted from psychogenic shock.

When no one was looking, Marissa ran back into the kitchen,
full of fear for the mother and child still missing on 
her own initiative.

Using her damp apron as a mask over her face in a 
desperate attempt at helping out best as she could,
she disappeared into the murk, unwitnessed.
 
-------------------------------------------------------------------------

Roy and Johnny's heads snapped up from the teenager
lying on the road when a soot covered mother, carrying 
a kicking little boy in holiday green in her arms, 
staggered against the glass of the door.

"Marco..make sure he wakes up..." said Roy, pointing down
to the silent shivering teenager still cradling his fingers.

Gage and Johnny pulled open the superheated door and
dragged out the gasping mother and writhing child, both 
pulling them away from danger. Fire was now becoming just 
visible on the roofing tiles, glowing over the rusty bricks.

Sound of sirens covered those of the hungry flames 
eating the interior.

Johnny tried to snatch the child out of the woman's hands.
"Let go of him! Let me take a look at him!" He said peeling off
her fingers one by one, trying to reach his head and 
neck. "He's having trouble breathing!"

The mother coughed violently. "He..'s....might be
choking! He was eating potatoes when the scream
and smoke startled him! I tried...* cough* to do what
I ....." Her voice cut off as smoke inhalation strangled
her into speechless silence. Her own breathing trouble 
loosened her grip and the purpling boy tumbled into 
Johnny's arms.

Father Murphy ran over and drew Meghan's panicky attention 
to his kindly face while Roy and Johnny worked swiftly on
the little boy.

Scooping Stevie in front of him, Johnny began firm
thrusts with closed fists repeatedly on the boy's abdomen, 
trying to dislodge whatever food was blocking the boy's airway,
dangling him in front of his own legs in a back to stomach
hug.

Nothing worked.

A squeal of tires rousted DeSoto's attention from the boy
when he recognized the sound of rescue squad doors slamming.
"Over here! Foreign body obstruction. We need the peds kit!"

Engine 51 had come along with Squad 18.

"Roy's he's out...." panted Johnny. "I'm not getting it.
Catch his head. Catch his head. Get him down."

DeSoto helped his partner straighten the now unconscious
boy onto his back and he quickly got to the boy's head,
looking to see if he could spot anything in the glare of the
engine's headlights in the boy's mouth. "Nothing yet."

Johnny continued to apply sharp heimlich maneuvers,
even as he pulled up the boy's shirt for clearer access.

"Magills! Small! And suction!" Roy shouted to the
paramedics rushing to their side. He got the gear box
he needed.

Snatching up the long scissor like snubbed instrument, 
Roy threaded its gripping shaft down Stevie's throat after 
nodding to Johnny to stop his clearing attempts for a moment.

He pulled out a chicken bone.

Gage pressed down on the boy's ribcage and air hissed out
sharply. "That was it. Pulse?"

Roy felt for one even as one of Squad 18's medics 
grabbed an oxygenated child's ambu bag and oral airway 
and started using them to get effective breaths into the boy.
DeSoto shook his head. "No carotid."

Gage began one handed chest compressions, while the
second medic began to hail Rampart on the biophone.

Captain Stanley ran up to Marco by the teenager. "Who
else is there besides this teen boy and the child and mother?"
he said laying down an O2 apparatus for Marco to use
on the young man.

"Maybe a few minor SI's on the curbside, Cap. I think
we got everyone out." Lopez said. "Careful in there.
Grease fire and an active floor gas line from a soup
cooker! We didn't have time to get the main breaker shut
off.."

"Ok, pal. Hang tight. I've another two alarms on the way.
Including L.A. City. We're on the edge of their jurisdiction 
out here." he said eyeing the brick church like building that 
housed the burning soup kitchen. Hank then called for 
the gas company to shut off service to the entire city block 
over the engine's radio microphone.

Right then, Father Murphy looked up from where Meghan
was sobbing and reaching for Stevie. "Captain.. I...I- l.. don't
see Marissa.. She...she'd never abandon a child in trouble.
In fact she'd be the last one to leave them.."

"Are you saying that there might still be someone inside of
there?" Cap clarified.

"Yes!" said the padre.

"Chet, Moreno...gear up! There's possibly one more victim inside
the building. Keep in mind that there's still a flowing gas line some
where near a soup set up and a grease fire along the floor. Be 
extra careful searching around in there! You have two minutes."
Cap ordered. "Then we pull out and wait for backup. This one's
going vertical by the looks of it. Stoker! Back her up a hundred 
feet. This building's got a false front!"

"Right, Cap." said the engineer.

Kelly nodded at his orders and the pair of firemen swiftly geared 
up into SCBA bottles and masks. With a charged inch and a half, 
they knocked out the front window glass and entered the dining 
hall following a covering fan of protective water.

Gage and Roy traded tasks, back and forth, on the boy's CPR while 
they let Squad 18 handle the child's main care treatment, working 
quietly through all his resuscitation medications after they'd received 
terse medical orders from Dr. Joe Early. They paused only for three 
quarters of a minute in their efforts when Cap had them all evacuate 
the front sidewalk for the opposite one to get them out of a potential 
debris zone.

##Squad 18. Defibrillate. 100 watt seconds. As many times
as it takes. Don't wait for an ET intubation. Sounds like you've got 
more than enough hands helping out.## the doc said as he heard 
an off duty Roy and Johnny confirming and reaffirming verbally how 
they were coordinating efforts on the child.

"10-4, Rampart. Stand by for an EKG if we're successful."
reported Squad 18's head paramedic.

"Roy..still getting a pulse with my compressions?"
Gage asked in the background.

"Yeah. They're going good. His airway's still clear. No
food matter down here at all. Ok, Marv. We're standing off 
for ya." Roy replied, raising the ambu off Stevie for the 
countershocking with the low powered paddles. Johnny 
lifted his palm away from Stevie's sternum, making sure 
that Meghan wasn't touching her son with his other one, 
for the first shock to come.

"Oh!" cried Meghan, gripping her oxygen cannula'd face in
her hands in worried despair at the sight of her boy jumping
convulsively. 

Father Murphy hugged her tightly.
"The Lord's working through these men, Meghan. If they're
granted, Stevie will be returned to us very soon. I've seen
these kind men working before."

On the second shock, Stevie gasped and his hands twitched
on the cool gritty sidewalk and Roy's smile announced the
presence of a very viable heartbeat under the grip he had
on the boy's neck.

Meghan immediately began sobbing in relief and Father
Murphy bent his head in a prayer of thanksgiving.

Roy swiftly patched the almost suffocated boy into
the heart monitor and Johnny helped Marv spike an I.V. for
the child's continuing maintenance meds.

Then they stood up, "You good here now, guys?"
asked Gage.

The two medics nodded. "Yeah. Thanks, fellas. See you
later at the station." answered Marv. 
"Stan, why don't you check on the teenager over 
there. The fireman with him's indicating that he's awake
and fully conscious now." replied Squad 18's head medic.

Marv's partner left to start the teenager's care.

"Ok.." and Gage and DeSoto rose to stand by Cap,
who was studying the building, intently eyeing the
hose feeding into the shattered window frame. 

Marco had already joined Hank, too. And he was biting
his lip.

Lopez said, "Roy, Johnny.. Carlos Moreno 
and Chet have gone in after Marissa."

"What?!" Gage said, whirling around. "I didn't
see her go back inside...I thought I saw her out here
with you, Marco."

"You did. She was out here at first. Father Murphy 
gave Cap a run down on her personality type about not 
ever leaving behind any kids. So everyone's assuming 
she went back in to look for Meghan and Stevie here.
And for you two. " Lopez said, filling Roy and Johnny in.

"That crazy, stupid girl. She's gonna get herself killed. That
fire's hotter than anything..!" Gage fretted. "Cap, do
you mind if Roy and I throw on a spare set of coats and 
tanks at all to be your second team in stand by?"

"Can't harm anything. I'll add you to the board. Gear up
but hang back for now. Put on trousered boots over those 
jeans! Lopez can help me keep watch."

"Thanks, Cap." Gage replied for both Roy and himself.

An ominous rumble made Cap's head snap up.
He brought his walkie talkie to his lips. "Kelly, Moreno.
Out. The upper story's about to go!" he ordered.

There was no reply. Cap immediately frowned.
"Can't be that noisy in there. It's all one room, right?"

"That's right.." said Roy, buckling up his turnout.

"Kelly! Moreno! Respond HT!" Hank tried again.

A small roof explosion flattened Marco, Cap, Roy and Johnny 
against the engine in a tangle of protective crouches. He was
about to send in Roy and Johnny when the false front
of the building finally gave way under the heat of the fire
and came tumbling down onto the front sidewalk in
a pile of sparking black bricks.

Roy was about to go rushing inside when he saw 
Chet Kelly, helmetless and gloveless, carrying Marissa
in his arms towards the open air. Her white kitchen
clothes were in shreds.

Hank and Stoker both rushed forward to help their
dazed coworker walk over the fallen building
debris with his unconscious burden.

Roy reached for her head and chest for signs of life.

Kelly wasn't feeling his reddened and blistered palms 
one iota, even as the others were wincing for him. 
"Roy, she's alive. Breathing, too."

Where's Moreno?" barked Cap.

"He ducked out the back way. He was too far from
the front door. I was closer." Chet mumbled, stumbling
slightly, licking a contused lip."Father Murphy.. I got her 
out.."

"That you did, son. Now sit down and let me bundle you
up until your paramedic friend's ready to see you."
the father replied.

"Johnny! Tank up and go check out Kelly's story. Meet
up with Moreno. Radio me immediately the first second 
you find him." Cap called out behind him. "Then clear
the h*ll out of there until the other alarms get on scene."

"I'm gone.." said Gage.

And soon, he was.
 
-----------------------------------------------------

Photo: Soup kitchen store front.

Photo : Bums eating dinner at folding tables.

Photo: Kids piled over coloring books and art stuff.

Photo: A bowl of chicken soup in the hands of someone.

Photo:  Kitchen charity workers slaving over a stove of food.

Photo: A collapsing false front at night on fire.

Photo:  Woman doing CPR on a boy.

Photo:  Roy, Stoker and Cap helping Chet get a woman out.

**********************************************************
From:  Katherine Bird <kathbird01@y...> 
Date:  Tue Jan 25, 2005  10:21 pm 
Subject:  That Molten Snare...


Johnny Gage darted quickly around the burning brick city building.
He kept one eye on the roofline, making sure that nothing that
had a wall was gonna fall on top of him. He sang out over the
HT frequency as he went. "HT 51 to 51-Moreno. What's your
10-20? Over..." he shouted over the roar of the fire jutting
from the lower windows. His voice sounded muted through
his air mask.

Water fog from the overhead ladder nozzle from Pumper Eight 
broke out into a steaming bouquet over his head, and followed
his progress. Gratefully, Johnny tucked his radio under a flap
of his jacket and continued broadcasting and sweeping a
flashlight from side to side in front of him to attract Moreno's
attention.

A smudge slightly less dark than the rest of the fire lit 
surroundings separated itself from between two cars, 
shedding brick fragments.

"Carlos?!" shouted Gage, hurrying to that location. "You ok?
Kelly said you bugged out to the rear..."

Coughing, the air masked fireman ripped off his own face mask
when the air fizzled out on his tank, giving a cut throat signal
to Gage with some fingers across his neck. Johnny offered him 
his mask for a few clean breaths of untainted air. " *choke* I'm fine. 
D*mned grease slick. I slipped following Chet and ran out of 
escape time or I would've helped with getting her free. She still 
alive?"

"Yeah.. Roy's got her. What happened to Chet's hands?" said,
Gage, guiding the exhausted Moreno safely back to the path
he'd found under the water bucket.

"He got down on the floor to see better and crawled right into
that hot grease in the kitchen. It set his gloves on fire. We got
them off as fast as we could. What happened in there? I thought 
you and Roy were working a dinner."

"We were, pal. Only a pair of obnoxious teen gangers decided to turn
stupid with some kind of twisted initiation rite and there you have it...." 
he gestured grandly to the now fully involved structure.

"What did they do?"

"Dared each other to stick their hands into an active french fryer
using vasoline."

"Stupid!"

"I know. That's what Roy and I thought. And look what it's
gonna cost Marco's congregation and the city to repair.."
He took a breath himself off the SCBA before he broadcast
out to Cap on the curb down the alleyway. As they went, both
firefighters gave the bucket man a thumbs up for the 
water curtain along their route. 

"HT 51 to Engine 51."

##Engine 51.##

"We're in the clear and heading out."

##10-4. Your two victims have medical orders from
Rampart already set.##

"10-4. I'll be right there!" shouted Gage over
the noisy water raining down onto them from above. 
"Moreno's completely uninjured."

##I copy that.## came Cap's highly relieved voice.

Soon, Gage and Moreno made the safety of the main
street and separated, patting each other on the back
with the parting. Moreno jogged over to the engine for
a new air bottle and to give a fast report to Cap about
the status of the interior fire degradation.

Johnny peeled off his dripping coat, air bottle and helmet.
He tossed his HT to Cap as he ran by, heading towards Roy 
and Marissa. She was now lying on her back, on a rich O2 flow, 
with both her feet perched up on top of a fire hydrant. He quickly 
got to work assessing her consciousness status. "She shocky 
a whole lot?"

DeSoto shook his head from the I.V. he was starting on
the shelter worker. "Nah. Pressure's still in the nineties.
She's beginning to cough and she never needed the demand
valve."

"How's her chest sounding."

"Wheezy, but open."

"Ok..." sighed Johnny. "Guess we're in business."
He quickly got to work on raising her consciousness level.

--------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Marco was cooling down Chet's burn sheet covered
hands with a bottle of saline where Kelly sat on
the engine's bumper. "Oo, Chet. Do they hurt yet?"

"I definitely feel like a french fry, Marco. **Ummhff!* but
I can wait. Help Roy and Johnny out with Marissa first.
I'm fine. I'm only worried about what Cap's gonna think 
when I tell him I lost my helmet again."

"He's not gonna say anything, Chet, you were rescuing
someone. Besides, you've just waded through an edge 
roofed wall collapse. Your helmet probably got knocked 
off by a brick or two hitting your head."

"Yeah, you're probably right. I do remember a few
louder than normal noises from the usual. Oww.."
grimaced Chet and he coughed wetly.

"How's your breathing? Do you need some O2?" Lopez
asked.

"Nah. I'm phlegmy, but ok. Probably gonna be hoarse
for an entire week. Tell Roy that I'm lung clear once you're through 
wetting my hands down, cause I am." Chet insisted, leaning his sweaty 
sooty haired head against the chrome grip bar. He closed his eyes in 
exhaustion and just concentrated on thinking cool thoughts to
ease the throbbing fire shooting through his hands.

"Ok,..but I'm leaving the oxygen tank here in case things
change. Cap'll have my hide if it's not offered." Lopez
said.

"Man," said Chet, grinning. "You in working mode already? Get
outta here and go be a civilian again. No doubt the cops are
gonna need a statement from ya about what went on in there
so you'd better act the part, pal, before Cap notices ya fussing
with me."

"See ya later."

"Yeah..." grunted Chet as his irrigated, blistered hands were 
slowly chilled to blissful numbness in the foggy night air.

-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
Gage began a fast sweep, looking for burns and wounds on Marissa
after cutting away her seared clothes. He found none. A log roll to 
expose her back, revealed nothing except dirt also. Johnny set
down a burn pad underneath Marissa to insulate her from the cold 
pavement then he covered her lightly with a plastic sheet to help 
preserve her body temperature when the fainted girl began to shiver 
from the cold.

Johnny picked up the resuscitator and began using it in
time with Marissa's inhalations to stimulate her awake once
Roy had a flowing I.V. going.

The sensation of being ventilated woke the groggy girl up
the rest of the way and she began coughing violently. Her
panicked thoughts continued where they had left off from 
when the smoke had snuffed out her consciousness. 
"Meghan?! Stevie?! Ohmyg*d! Get em out!"

"Easy...easy.. Marissa? Marissa!.. They're both fine. Understand 
me?" Roy said, holding her shoulders down. "Meghan and Stevie 
are already on the way to the hospital,ok? Just try to relax."

"*choke* What happened?" Marissa blinked when she realized
that she was on the street with a dozen bystanders gawking
at her amid the flurry of red fire department lights.

"You ran back inside and got overcome by a little smoke."
grinned Johnny, taking her blood pressure from where he
crouched over Marissa's head. Roy palpated the result from
where he was on the biophone, reaching across Marissa's 
waist and relaying it to Brackett on the phone.
"Now I'm not gonna lecture you on how stupid a stunt that was. 
I think you've learned your lesson." said Johnny. "How's your 
chest feeling now?"

"Like I was chain smoking rubber bands.." she rasped.

"That'll go away in a bit. Just keep taking in deep breaths
on this oxygen and it'll happen faster." he said switching out 
the demand valve for the clear mask again.

"How's Stevie? Meghan said he was choking!" Marissa panicked.

"We got it out. He's fine. He's fine. Now don't get worked up
fussing about that. Meghan and Stevie are gonna be just fine.
No one is hurt bad, including you. We're gonna be taking you
to Rampart for a checkup in just a few minutes to be sure
you're all right, ok?"

Marissa's lip quivered. "Oh, Father Murphy's gonna be so sad.
We just found that office space for our soup kitchen. Tonight
was our grand opening.." she said, bright tears in her eyes.
"It'll be a miracle if the church raises all those funds a 
second time. We're not rich at all."

"Insurance companies can work miracles themselves nowdays,
Marissa." Roy reassured her. "Try and get some rest. Johnny and
I promise. We'll stay and watch you the whole trip in so you won't be 
alone. In fact, I'll ask Marco to join us, too, to keep you company."

"I'd like that." coughed Marissa, "We have so much to talk about
....rebuilding....everyt-...."  and her eyes drifted shut.

"Marissa?" Gage asked in a gentle check.

"Just napping..." Marissa sighed. "I'm feeling....so tired...Let me sleep."

Roy checked the rate and visual on the EKG monitor. Then he said, 
"Sure. Sleep will only do you a world of good." DeSoto said. "Night,
Marissa."

"...n-night, ...*yawn*...fellas."

---------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
Photos: None.

********************************************************************************
Date: Wed, 2 Feb 2005 09:23:58 -0800 (PST) 
From: "Jeff Seltun" <finiterider@yahoo.com>  
Subject:  Pavlov's Dogs 
 
It was Thursday, one week after the soup kitchen fire.

Captain Stanley stood by the station's main chalkboard. 
He was the image of no nonsense authority as he outlined 
station's business briskly with some speed before an incoming
run interrupted. "Ok, is everybody perfectly clear on their duty 
assignments? Marco, welcome back. You're on the engine, light 
duty. I want no direct attack fire fighting from you. If there's a 
call for a victim search, pass it off to someone else. At no
time do you go into a fire scene."

"Aw, Cap. I feel fine. The doc says I'm almost one hundred 
percent." Lopez protested.

Hank's coffee brown eyes and bushy eyebrows rose in
consternation. "Almost's a word, in my book, that means
ain't gonna happen, Marco. Not in a million years. There's
a reason for the pickiness of the clean bill of health order 
from McConnike. Gee, fellas," he remarked sarcastically, 
"I guess the Order Nine's just window dressing. Marco, you 
know as well as I do that the chief kicked out that to prevent 
the sidelined from doing anything dumb before they're healed 
enough to handle it. Just look at Chet, pal. He's not grumbling 
being my look out and chart man."

"Oh yes he is..." mumbled Johnny Gage, from where he slumped
on the couch, laughing.

Hank, still deep in his fire suppressing strategy lecture, missed
the low banter going on behind him.

Kelly elbowed Johnny in the ribs to shut him up. "Says who."
he hissed in annoyance. "I've been a perfect angel in spite
of these." he said, holding up his water proofed bandage 
wrapped hands. "My burns are already crusting over."

"So's your mood, Chet. Shhh. I can't hear the Cap.." 
mumbled Murphy, Chet's stand in replacement on the engine.

"Arf! " barked Boot in a tattle tailing woof.

Cap swept down his map pointer in an exasperated huff.
"All right. Who's flapping their gums?" he moaned in long
suffering. "I told Boot to keep an eye out for chattering, so 
consider yourselves caught red handed."

Gage and Murphy and Kelly looked everywhere but
at Cap's directed gaze.

Roy raised amused eyebrows. "I don't think Boot can
point out the perpetrators, Cap. He doesn't have any fingers."

"Yeah, well if I hear another bark from him, None of you are
gonna have any fingers left, cause you'll be scrubbing the 
vehicle slab by hand with toothbrushes! Kapeesh?

No one even breathed.

"Now let's finish the usual monthly yada." he said, smacking
the chalkboard with his stick, "and let's get done with it. I'm
getting just as hungry as the rest of you. Whatever Dixie's
cooking smells absolutely divine..." moaned Cap.

"Don't rush on my account.." came the smoky voiced reply from
the nurse bustling around the station kitchen. "This is Roy's
Beef Borgeaunon recipe. It only gets better the longer it simmers."
and she licked the gravy off of her finger tips.

Hank swallowed in sheer torture, and his stomach growled. Loudly.
"Yes...well..ok, now...where was I?"

Chet burst out eagerly. "Engine assignments just wrapped up and
you were showing all of us how you contain an east facing interior 
warehouse magnesium fire under Santa Ana wind condtions exceeding
fifteen knots,.. hypothetically supposing that the source material's ignition 
point was actually a multiple story high stack of wooden crates containing 
self heating military rations, Cap."

Hank's eyes waggled in sheer amazement. "..wow.. I'm glad
somebody was paying attention here. Cause there's a test on
it after lunch."

"What?!" exclaimed Marco, Murphy and Gage.

"Gotcha.." said Hank. "There's more than one way to flush out
cover hiding birds. And I don't have to be Boot to do it. You three,
consider yourselves on garage floor detail the rest of the week for 
talking at a meeting."

"Aw, Cap.."

"Wanna make it two weeks?"

Silence reigned.

Cap eyed the three firefighters shifting uncomfortably on the
cushy leather couch and smiled, real big. "Thought so. Guys,
I'm almost done. So bear with me, huh? Then we can dive into
that wonderful New Year's eve meal that Dixie, bless her heart,
so kindly made for us. Gimme thirty seconds more.."

All eyes finally rested on his own. Including Boot's.
Cap nodded with a sigh and held up his last update report.
"Marco, this one might be of interest to you. This is the coroner's
report from that car accident where you got injured. Turns out
that the driver's friend wasn't a friend of his after all. The passenger
was a murder victim. Killed the night before. The driver was
going to dump him in the river course anyway when he hit that 
telephone pole getting there to get rid of him."

"Those two were drug handlers?" asked Gage.

"Yep. The cops found some cocaine in the trunk, remember?"

"Yeah..." said Johnny aghast, his memories of saving the man
pinned under the car slowing turning into something ugly. "I
remember. I remember.. it's just that.. He seemed like such
a nice guy. He didn't strike me as the murdering type."

"Tell that to the passenger we went hunting for in the river bed."
said Mike Stoker. "I'm sure if he were still alive, he'd tell you the 
same thing." Mike sighed, crossing his arms over his elbows.

The stunned look didn't lessen on Johnny's face as he absorbed
the news, until Boot's suddenly offered comforting tongue washed 
it away.

"That about wraps it up. Let's eat.." said Cap.

The gang rose from their chairs and the couch when a run of 
short tones went out for the squad.

"Oh, man..." said Johnny, eyeing up the steaming bowl of
delectable meat stew that Dixie was centering on the table.
"I'm gonna starve to death..."

"No you won't. Just think..it only g--" started Dixie.

"I know, I know. Only gets better the longer it simmers.."
said Johnny as he followed Roy out of the room at a fast jog
for the squad. He tried not to drool on his shirt as he ran by
the others settling in at the table.

Dixie called out after them. "Oh, boys.. avoid the locker room
when you get back if you know what's good for ya.." she warned
with a wink. She wasn't beneath priming her favorite paramedic 
pair for a surprise or two.

"Huh?" gaped Johnny, skidding to a halt at the remark.

Roy's long arm jerked him into motion again. "Come on, Einstein.
You can analyze that one on the way. Let's go.."

Soon, the speeding rescue squad was roaring code three
onto the sunny, holiday traffic sparse boulevard from the drive.

##Squad 51. Man down. 1414 North Pacific Boulevard...##

"Left, Roy, left." pointed Johnny.

"I know. I know. Kinda figured it wasn't gonna be anything
in the business district today. Everybody's all at home because
of New Year's eve, remember? That's why Dixie took sympathy 
and came out here to cook lunch for us on her day off."
complained Roy.

##1414 North Pacific Boulevard. Cross street Cocoa Beach.
Time out: 1355.##

"I realize all that. I was just trying to help ya navigate Roy, geesh.." 
snapped Johnny.

"Yeah, well you should know I'm never too terribly 
accommodating on an empty stomach."

Johnny cracked a grin. "You and me both. Say, here's an idea.
There's no cops out today to catch us speeding in a school
zone. Step on it."

"Too right." Roy thumbed the acknowledgement microphone 
from the dashboard derisively."Squad 51. 10-4. KMG 365."

##Squad 51.##

-------------------------------------------
Photo:  Dixie at the station, close, smiling.

Photo: Boot, barking.

Photo:  Cap giving a lecture to the gang.

Photo:  Johnny laughing on the couch.

Photo:  Roy on the squad mic.

Photo:  A grumpy Gage and DeSoto driving
            to a rescue.

************************************************
From:  "Cassidy Meyers" <killashandraRey@hotmail.com> 
Date:  Wed Feb 2, 2005  9:10 pm 
Subject:  How the Mighty Fall...

Johnny and Roy rushed down the sidewalk leading
to a rustic suburban house loaded with their complete
array of medical equipment. And then some.

"Roy, did L.A. give us any more information about what
we got?" puffed Gage, hurrying to the front door of
the house a little faster.

"Nope. You know as much as I do." Roy said tightly.

"Man,...*whew* Getting a call about a man down can 
mean just about anything.." Johnny sighed in frustration
as their shoes clicked quickly on the cobblestones.

"Tell me about it..." grumbled Roy. So did his stomach.

Johnny laughed as they climbed the stone steps of
the residence. "Was that you?"

"Fraid so. I'm so hungry, just the idea of these sugar
I.V.'s being in my hand are setting me off."

Johnny split a gut. "Really? Just don't embarrass yourself 
in front of whoever..." Gage quipped. "The fire department 
has a professional image to uphold you know."

Roy didn't deign to reply to that comment. He set down
the defibrillator, resuscitator and trauma box and briskly
knocked on the front door loudly. "L.A. County Fire
Department!"

There was no immediate reply.

Automatically, the two paramedics split up to peer into the
nearby curtained windows to see if they could see anything.

A monstrous barking greeted Roy's sharp knuckle raps on
a stained glass window pane.

A woman's frantic voice soon wove itself over the large dog's.
"I'm coming. Hurry. Please. It's my husband. He won't wake up!"

"Open the door, ma'am. It's still locked." Gage shouted.

"Oh,,...." the housewife trickled. "I- I'm sorry.. I.. There! It's
open!" And the door flung wide open on a living room of olive
green shag carpeting and beadstring doorways.

The huge slathering maw of a gigantic canine launched in a leap past the
two paramedics heads when the way to the outside porch was clear.

Gage and Roy flinched as they each got an impression of a great
St. Bernard in full motion. But then the dog was gone in a flurry
of scrabbling claws. 

"Faust! You come back here! Oh, bad dog! BAD dog! Not the
mail man!" the petite flower aproned, red haired woman quailed.

Johnny and Roy gulped down the scare in seconds, barely registering
the sight of a mailman across the street rapidly making for a sturdy tree
to scale, trailing flying envelopes and bills. Faust cleared the yard's 
white picket fence easily, in pursuit of his daily quarry. 

"Oh no!!.. Not again. Uh, I'll worry about Faust later. Please.. Hurry.." 
begged the very young housewife and she disappeared in a frantic 
run for a den workshop located just to the right of the front door.

"I just about had a heart attack seeing him. Didn't you?" Gage 
whispered to his equally rattled up partner.

"Can't say that we weren't tipped off. Keep breathin'. You'll survive. We'll 
rescue the mailman after we're done here. Either that, or we can call in 
the engine to get him down." Roy shrugged, not even giving the dramatic 
fiasco of dog versus mail carrier a second glance.  

"Oh, nooo.. I can do without a hungry Cap breathing down my neck."
Gage said. "Whatever you do, don't call for the engine."

"Ok." Roy agreed.

------------------------------------------------------------------

They found a young man lying face down, slumped under a
running buzzsaw on a bench. Not knowing if the man's
problem was electrical shock or not, Johnny used an uncut 
pine board to knock the tool's plug out of the wall. "What 
happened?" he asked the housewife.

"I don't know! Jerry gave a yell and I ran in here and found him 
like this. He- he- he wouldn't wake up, no matter how hard I
shook him. Oh! Is he ok?! I thought he fell down stone
dead." she sniveled, still very hysterical. "He's so pale."

Roy and Johnny moved the woodworking bench away
from their patient and they both bent close over him, feeling 
for signs of life.

"He's got a pulse." DeSoto said.

"He's breathing.." added Johnny without moving him and he went
straight into a head, neck and spine check, running his hands over
the husband's body and along his limbs, looking for trouble spots. 
"Doesn't seem like he fell. I'm not finding any blood anywhere and 
nothing's out of alignment here."

Roy nodded, setting up the biophone after getting the man on
some oxygen.

"Hey!" Gage yelled in the man's ear. "Jerry, can you hear me?!"

Jerry didn't move.

Reaching down, Johnny tried something else.

The man finally moaned weakly with a firm sternal rub.

"Hey, Jerry.. Open your eyes. Come on. Can you do that for me?!"
Johnny shouted.

He didn't open them. Nor did he moan again to anything 
that was just verbal.

Carefully, Johnny turned the passed out husband onto his side and 
opened his shirt up, checking for problems down the front part of 
Jerry's body. "Ma'am. Does Jerry have any medical problems that
you know of? Diabetes, old injuries, any breathing problems?"

"No, nothing like that..." she sobbed. "Jerry's a very healthy man. In
fact, last night, he was telling me how pleased the airforce doctors
were with his physical. He's just been approved to be a test fighter pilot.
Oh, my G*d. What's wrong with him?"

"Ma'am. We're gonna get some answers real soon. My partner's
getting a doctor on the line right now. Just calm down a little. I think
you'll do a little better sitting down on that chair over there, don't you?"
Johnny suggested. "No need to get worked up. He's doing fine so
far."

The tearful housewife listened and immediately took a seat when her
rubbery knees finally failed on her. "Please help him. I didn't know
what to do except get on the phone to the operator."

"You did fine doing that. We're here now. Missus...." Johnny fished.

"Mrs. Kaftan.,  uh, J-Joyce. I'm Joyce."

"All right, Joyce. I'm gonna take a set of vitals on Jerry here
for our doctor on the phone and we'll all get at least some clues
about what's causing this blackout of his." Gage told her.

"O-Ok.." she sniffed.

"Rampart, this is Squad 51. How do you read?" said Roy calmly
into the receiver. Outside the window, Faust was still woofing
angrily. Roy hoped the carrier outside had reached a safe height
in the tree in time.

Joyce was torn between watching the two paramedics assess 
her husband and yelling reassurances to Clarence the mail
carrier who was glaring death's daggers at her from the eucalyptus 
tree in the neighbor's yard. "Just hang on, Mr. McFeely. Jerry's sick. 
It'll only be a minute and I'll get out there! I'm so sorry Clarence. 
Please don't be mad at me...Faust. Get down!" And she horse 
whistled piercingly. "Bad boy! You're a very badddd boyyyy!"

The dog went right on ignoring her, raining showers of foamy
slobber all over the ground beneath Clarence's refuge as he
leaped and jumped, trying to clamp a full set of teeth on
a pants leg cuff or any other body part dangling from the flimsy
tree.

DeSoto cupped the receiver to cut down the noise surrounding
him. "Rampart this is Squad 51, how do you read?"

Finally, Morton's mellow reply answered him. ##Go ahead, 51.##

Roy filled in the resident with what he already knew.

Johnny meanwhile, discovered some more medical 
history on Jerry from Joyce. "Are you sure about that last 
part?"

"Yeah. The airforce doc said that he only had an acute subungual 
hematoma from getting pinched last week in a hanger door."

"Roy, did you get that?" Johnny asked.

"Yeah.. I think so... doc did you hear that last bit? An acute
subungual hematoma from one week ago? Whatever that is,
we're not finding any signs of cranial or body bruising on him 
anywhere. His pressure's 88 over 62." DeSoto reported.
"But his pulse and respirations are normal."

There came a long sigh from the biophone receiver.
##51. Check the patient's hands. A subungual hematoma
is a blood bound fingernail. Your man's blackout could be
syncope if he smashed it again with ..say a hammer. You did 
mention that he was working with chemical-less tools. His vital
signs and lack of obvious injury fit that pattern. Wake him up
with smelling salts and advise him to visit his family doctor
to trephine the nail to release some of that pressure for pain
relief." Morton said firmly with a trace of irritation.

Blushing with embarrassment, Johnny located the offending
implement lying just to the right of the man's waist. He held it
up to Roy. "Oops."

DeSoto soon located the dark maroon colored swollen nail on Jerry's
left hand. "So that's what subungual means." he smirked covering
the phone. "10-4, Rampart. Advise a trip to the family doctor."
and he disconnected the line as fast as he could before they
both received a lecture about brushing up on medical terminology.

With an amused florish, Roy broke out an ammonia capsule and 
very soon, Jerry was among the world of the living once
again. "I think you can manage from here, Johnny. I'll
go check on Clarence to make sure he didn't have
a coronary or something waiting for us to bail him out."

Johnny didn't know what was funnier, the sight of a very
beefy air force pilot cradling his pinky finger in his lap, moaning,
or the sight of Roy attempting to cage the cagey Faust against 
the picket fence long enough to snatch a grip onto the massive 
dog's leather collar so the silver haired mailman could climb safely
on down to the street.

----------------------------------------------------------

Photos: None.

******************************************************* 
From :  patti keiper <pattik1@hotmail.com> 
Sent :  Thursday, February 3, 2005 3:01 AM 
Subject :  The Nursing Elf.. 
 

Johnny and Roy couldn't get back to the station fast
enough. They decided not to spoil their healthy appetites
with gas station candy bars, opting instead to gorge on
Dixie's wonderfully exquisite station cooked meal.

Soon, all the gang were either slumped in chairs or snoring on
beds in the bunk room, trying to digest the food they had 
practically inhaled like air.

"Geez, you would think firefighters would know how to
feed themselves. What am I? Manna from heaven?" she
said of the guys settling in around her with magazines and
sections from the daily newspaper.

"You sure are..." grinned Cap. "We all harbor a passionate
hate for leftovers so we couldn't let your good food go 
to waste."

"But you fellas ate four whole gallons of Beef Bourgenon!"

"A little padding never hurt any firefighter. I promise you that we'll
burn off the extra weight easily in a couple of days. All it takes 
is one three alarm fire to trim a body down in mere hours. Have 
no fear for our cardiovascular health. We've been down that road 
before.." Cap said, glaring at Chet meaningfully.

"Geez, Cap. When are you gonna let that dates and vitamins diet
craziness I once tried working for Morton, die?" Kelly complained
out loud.

"When I'm old and gray." replied Hank. 
Gage opened his lips in a rejoiner for the left wide open comment 
from his captain, but Hank beat him to it. "Never mind. You never 
heard me say the when part of that last bit.  Gage, you just hush."

Johnny grinned and said, "I wasn't gonna say anything about 
anything. Besides, all of us already know how you're getting along 
in years so any further commentary on that's a moot point."

Cap cleared his throat dangerously.

Roy saved the day."Say, uh, Cap. Did the paperwork go through 
on that latest requisition sent in by Marco and I?"

"What paperwork?"

"The holiday dinner charity form. The one Marco needed approval on
in order to help out his ch--" DeSoto replied.

"Oh that form... already done. The event's tomorrow night and I'm
now ordering all of you to attend. You know where it is. Be there at six
o'clock sharp. Bring a party hat and kazoo for the stroke of midnight
everyone. It's gonna be a great time for everybody."

"Am I not invited?" Dixie mused, looking pouty. "I think I've done my fair
share for the department."

"Ok,.. you can come." said Chet Kelly teasingly. "Under one stipulation.
That you let all of us do the cooking."

"I hope you fellas remember to bring the stomach pump if that's the case." 
McCall teased. "Which way to the head guys? I've forgotten."

Stoker, Lopez, Gage and DeSoto rose to point out the way, each of
them giving her directions at the same time. "The other side of the 
vehicle bay, straight ahead, and then turn left first door. Go through 
the shower room to the stalls." they said at the same time in a jumble.

"The one on the end's specially made for women.." Johnny said
awkwardly, still pointing over his shoulder. He won only disapproving
frowns from the gang for the odd comment.

Dixie rubbed her nose in apparent confusion.
"I don't think I quite got it fellas. You were all talking over each other
too much. Would someone ..be so kind as to show me the way there?"

The guys fell over each other to be the one to guide her. Soon,
everyone accompanied Dixie to the locker room entry door.

Gage was the first one over the threshold and quickly, Dixie
darted forward, grabbed his head in between her elegant
hands, and kissed him full on the mouth.

She quickly did the same thing for the second-in Roy DeSoto 
before he caught onto her amourous intentions.

Johnny pulled away from McCall's long nailed grip in a scramble. 
"Whatja do that for?! Ya kissed me!"

Roy just chuckled good naturedly, rubbing the lipstick off his lips.
"Oh, my.... Johnny? I think we've been thoroughly had."

"Sure you were." shrugged Dixie. "And you had no choice in the 
matter, Johnny."

"Oh, really..." Gage chided. "Why is that?" he said in dismay at
being lip covered in ladies' makeup.

Hank cracked up and so did the rest of the guys who strangely,
hadn't stepped over the portal leading to the bathroom's hallway.
"Gage...."

"What?!" the Native American Indian snapped.

"Use your legendary paramedic's skills of observation and look up."
Cap commanded, still laughing.

Johnny and Roy both glanced up and only then did the two of them see 
the huge clustered sprig of fresh mistletoe that Dixie had tied there 
while they had been gone on their  rescue call.

"I did warn you two." Dixie soothed, rubbing off the lipstick stick
on Johnny's chin. 

He waved her away, fully in the wounded male's
self consciousness mind bent. "Cut that out, Dix. I can wash 
my own face." Johnny fluttered."Now are ya gonna get by me 
for the toilets or not?"

"Don't have to. I went earlier. Ciao..." and she left the station
through the yard's rear exit, followed merrily by a scampering
well-fed-on-beef-bourgenon stuffed Boot. "See ya at the party
at Headquarters tomorrow night. And captain, I promise to leave 
the rest of my mistletoe at home." she grinned cattily. 
"Thanks for letting me pull one over on Roy and Johnny. It was fun."

"Any time the mood strikes you." Cap said cheerfully. "I'm sure
my men enjoyed every minute of it."

"Says who?" giggled Roy. "I'm a happily married man."
And at the same time,.."Says who?" moaned Johnny. 
"I'm a tragically single bachelor."

"My work ....is done. Happy New Year's fellas." Dixie purred.
Then the still Christmas infected imp from Rampart, was 
gone.

Who's to say who smiled longer, Cap for getting a joke
in enough to score on his paramedics using Dixie, or 
Chet, for not being the butt of the preverbial joke this 
time around.

Gage wiped that smile off Kelly's face with a single
comment as he passed by Chet to go wash his face. Johnny 
winked at Roy to pay attention to what he was about to say 
next so that he could feast fully on the outcome, too. 

"Man is she a great kisser. I still got goose pimples!"

 -----------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Photo:  A sprig of fresh mistletoe.

Photo:  Johnny getting smooched by Dixie.

Photo: Roy getting smooched in a closeup.

Photo:   Cap standing by a still shell shocked Gage and
             DeSoto in the vehicle bay.

Photo:  Chet and Roy standing in a station doorway.
 
**************************************************
From:  Jeff Seltun <finiterider@yahoo.com> 
Date:  Thu Feb 3, 2005  5:42 pm 
Subject:  The Bond Beyond Kinship... 


Marco Lopez separated himself from the others engaged
in lively conversation at the Year's End party at L.A. Headquarters.
It had been many days since his near death experience, but 
it hadn't, as yet, left him free of introspection for a single solitary 
moment. And his lined, tired face, reflected it.

Casting a glance around the room, Lopez found an open space
where he could sit down by himself, away from the noise and 
oddly jarring gaiety.

He found solice in a pocket of quiet inside a room full of unused chairs 
behind the dispatching station. Gently, Sam Lanier, the dispatcher, still 
on duty, turned down his scanner radio to deepen the quiet that Marco
was seeking. 

And there, in the brightly lighted store room, he found another small
person seeking the same kind of balm. 

Lopez saw his own complex expression perfectly mirrored on a 
hispanic boy's face and instantly recognized it for what it was. 
His tiny features, too, were blanketed with a pale sadness.

"Stevie? Are you ok?"

Without looking up, the nine year old sighed. "Yeah, Mr. Lopez. I'm fine.
I guess I'm just tired, that's all. Tonight I think I need some time to just go
over the things painted in my head instead of celebrating, you know?"

"Kind of what I was picturing for myself, too. May I join you?"  Marco asked, 
indicating the plastic chair next to the despondent boy. 

"Sure. Have a seat..." Stevie gestured absently.

Several minutes passed and the two of them just stared at the walls,
perking up only when the familiar buzzing notes of a rescue call
came out from Sam's board for a nearby fire station.

Then Marco felt a tiny hand slip into his own. 
"Wanna talk about it?" asked a treble whisper into his ear.

Marco nodded in quiet acceptance, laying his other hand over
the tinier one. "Yep. No one else understands at all what I'm 
going through. I figured that you would, seeing that we both
have gone through nearly the same thing."

"You mean the bit where we almost died last week?"

"Yeah." Marco said, moving an arm over the boy's shoulder to
draw him nearer into a warm embrace to end his shivering. 

Stevie did the same, and for more than just mutual comfort's 
sake. He was reaching out, to the only one capable of understanding
the unique angst that was still dominating his very soul.

"I sure wish I got a note from the other side. Clear as pictures, senor.."
muttered Stevie, his own deep brown eyes connecting slowly with
Marco's. "Father Murphy says he can't tell me what what I saw means,
since he wasn't there. Now isn't that the craziest thing you ever
heard? A man of the cloth being totally clueless about the afterlife."
the boy scoffed.

"He hasn't seen the other side like we have." Marco said gently,
lacing his fingers into the boy's. He offered him a Coke from
a chilling cooler nearby but the child shook his head no.
Marco sighed, not feeling very thirsty either. At least, not
in a physical sense. "Stevie, what did you see out there?"

The boy's eyes filled with an emotion that Marco couldn't identify,
yet Lopez seemed to feel the child, inside of his heart, in an inexplicable
way that usually wasn't possible with complete strangers who
hardly knew each other.

"You first..." said the vaguely troubled boy.

"Well, " sighed Lopez. "I saw ...my dead father...and...I was absolutely
overwhelmed by something that I can only describe as a pervasive,
all encompassing sense of peace. It was as if Bernardo and
I ..suddenly had the same mind and body...for an instant. "

"I could feel what he felt...and hear what he was saying. I was seeing,
what he saw around him, effortlessly, and thinking what he thought.
And- and and it was a two way street. He could experience my life's
events as acutely as I had lived them. And I saw how he had lived his.
But soon, it was if he began weighing my life's worth, and deciding 
whether or not I should go on into the light with him."

"Then I was pulled away from Bernardo's arms while in between
a heartbeat. I think it was then my friend Roy gave me an electrical 
shock to get my heart beating well enough so that it could sustain 
me again. "

"The first thing I heard was Captain Stanley saying that I was finally
breathing ok for them. Then I knew nothing for a while until I woke up
in the ambulance."

Throughout his tale, Marco saw Stevie's eyes get bigger and bigger
as parallels eerily lined up with his own sharp memories. The boy's eyes
watered in grief and sadness. "I should still be out there, Marco!" 
he sobbed. "My being down here with everybody still alive 
is so painful to me...  I don't think I can stand it.."

Marco drew the boy deeper into his arms and kissed his hair. "Shh, querido.
It's ok. I think that this pain's just us, getting used to our bodies
again. It'll go away. It has to, like everything else bad always does:
I think it'll be a little like falling until we've figured out how to walk again."

Silence stretched between them, but there was no distance at all.

Marco broke the stillness. 
"What happened to you when you found yourself...'outside'?"

The child's face flushed red with distress and he shifted 
violently on the chair."People don't know how much those 
who've gone on are still a part of them!" Stevie cried. "My abuela 
was over there and she said to me that it wasn't my time to go yet. 
She said that I had to stay with mom and my brother, until I've
done something I'm supposed to do. Only she couldn't tell me 
what that was... I felt like I knew, Marco, absolutely everything."
his face twisted. "But now I've forgotten it all and that's now 
the pain I got in here..." and Stevie pointed to his head, 
"and here.." and his shaking fingers rested on his chest. 
"And if I don't figure it out, I know it's gonna kill me again...." 
he choked.

"It's ok, querido. I think the pain's supposed to happen, so you
can learn from it."

"How?!"

"Just talk to me. And tell me what you know...." Marco
whispered.

Stevie slowly relaxed and his eyes seemed like they lost their focus.

"Grandma was an angel, and she was so bright!" shared
Stevie. "I didn't want to leave her."

"I didn't want to leave my father either. But now, I see that
I'm not ready to go where he is now. Don't you feel that too?"

"Yeah.. a little. I can feel that it's in your mind and it's 
making that awful pain leave you. Bit by bit." sighed Stevie, 
wiping his tears away with a hand. He snuffled in the way
of the very young and that endeared him to Marco 
instantly.

"That's right. And I think I know the reason why. When I 
think of my father, I can see what's truly important now.
Family, love, creativity, was the impression I got." he
smiled. "It's really hard to have a bad day now since then.
Frankly, I simply can't have one because I realized that
I had awakened, still breathing. All because of what my
father said to me in those last moments."

"He said, 'Marco, go live your life as I have lived mine. I will 
still be here, watching over you and your mother, every step 
of the way until we are meant to be together once more. 
There's nothing to fear from death. It is simply a change in you
where your body recedes and your mind grows up. Don't 
worry about any of it. Everybody who loves you will support your 
needs fully when the time comes around for good.' "

"Stevie, your grandmother probably told you the same thing, but
you've had a longer way to travel to get back to your mother.
Abuela's message will come when your body's settled again.
I know it will."

The small Hispanic boy sighed and stopped crying, still nestled in
Marco's warm arms. "You know what? I’m not afraid to die now."

Lopez threw on a wry look for his benefit. "I sure don’t want to, quite
yet, even though it was a very wonderful thing."

"I think everyone should do it." Stevie voiced with finality. 
"Well, ...at least, ...someday."

"Don't be afraid to talk about all of this with your mother
like we are doing now.  No one will ever look at you strangely
for doing this. Tell her especially the part about your grandmother
being an angel."

"I will Mr. Lopez. I'll try real hard."

--------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

In the weeks that followed in church, Marco Lopez often heard
Stevie tell his friends about the time when he was dead. Hearing
the child's tale, each time, helped him connect with his own story
and it got stronger and stronger, easier and easier with each telling 
to the support counselors or to his fellow firemen at the station.

At first, Marco was fearful that the folks around them wouldn't
understand their stories and become withdrawn after the listening. 
But that didn't happen. 

Rather, they got a profound, softened look on their faces that 
always came with a smile.


FIN   
Season Two, Episode Seventeen..

 §§   That Latin Flair   §§


:)     This episode is dedicated to the late William Boyett, who  :(
        played Chief McConnike on the Emergency TV Series. 
                                                                                             
:(                                                                                                  :)

----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

The Story Unfolds...

Season Three, Episode Eighteen..

 §§   A Fish Out Of Water   §§
 
Debut Launch: February 1st, 2005.

-------------------
*********************************************************************
From:  "Maggie H" <hutchtx@comcast.net> 
Date:  Sat Feb 5, 2005  2:50 pm 
Subject: An Angel's Fate
 

"Carly?"

Bright blue eyes gazed up into Julie Hanson's face, and cheeks
bloomed with a smile.

"Carly, are you ready for lunch?" The teacher pointed to the
small group of students already waiting with their assistant, 
Lisa, at the door.

"I'm ready for lunch, Mrs. Hanson?" The girl answered, her
words correct, but her tone imitating her teacher's question. 
She stood from the rocking chair, where she had been sitting 
after finishing a lesson with Julie. "I'm ready for lunch!" This 
time the intonation was perfect. Carly trailed behind the group 
as they exited the classroom, repeating to herself, "I'm ready 
for lunch, Mrs. Hanson. I'm ready for lunch, Mrs. Hanson."

As Julie followed the four students down the corridor towards the
cafeteria, she watched Carly, especially, thinking how nice it was
to finally have her back. The girl had had a rough time over the
holidays and had missed the first two weeks of school. Like her
three middle school classmates, Carly had autism, but unlike the
others, she also had a seizure disorder and took a combination of
medicines to stable her moods and prevent her seizures. Lately, her
medicines had not been working quite right. She had had several
explosive episodes, putting holes in the wall in the classroom and
the hallway, as well as a fair share at home. Thus, the doctors had
placed her in the hospital to try to figure out a better combination
of medications.

After being back for a little over a week, now, things had been
good, Julie reflected. Her mood has been much more stable;
although, the new meds tended to make her sleepy in the afternoons.
That, at least, they could work through by taking frequent, short
walks.

Lunch was uneventful, and the group returned to the small, self-
contained classroom, where they would work on leisure skills by
playing a group game, after a short break. Carly's favorite break
activity was a wooden puzzle of the United States. She could do it
repeatedly without getting tired of it and she could do it in
about two minutes flat, when she wanted to. Today, as she sat down
at her desk, though, her eyelids drooped a bit.

*Better watch her,* thought Julie. *She's got that sleepy look
again.* She was usually fine up until lunch. But then she would
practically nod off on her feet. She gazed at the girl as she
slowly picked up the puzzle pieces, examining each, tilting it left,
then right, before placing onto the puzzle board. Soft blond hair
fell about her shoulders, and Julie could see that Carly was smiling
slightly and humming to herself. For all the world, she looked like
any other pretty 12 year old.

The phone rang, interrupting her thoughts. She glanced around to
see Lisa busy with another student and moved to her desk to pick up
the receiver. A question from the counselor. It took only a few
minutes.

When Julie turned back around to check on Carly, she noticed that
her back was slumped slightly. ::Dozing already,:: the teacher
thought to herself as she placed a hand on the girl's
shoulder. "Carly, wake up," she said firmly.

The girl did not move.

Julie felt her heart beat accelerate as she took a closer look.
Carly sat, eyes practically closed, Tennessee gripped between her
fingers and poised over its location on the puzzle board.
"Carly," she said, "open your eyes. We don't sleep in middle school."

The girl blinked and murmured something.

"Let's put the pieces in together," Julie said, guiding
Tennessee to its spot. Carly glanced at her teacher, but 
then gaze away, her eyes staring off at nothing.

Julie took a deep breath and let it out slowly. "Carly, look at
me," she said firmly.

The girl did not move. And there was no mistaking the rigid lock to
her eyes as they gazed off to her left. Her lips hung open and drool
pooled at the corner.

"Lisa!" Julie stood upright and motioned to her assistant.
"Call the fire department, and then get the nurse! Carly's having a seizure!"
-------------------------------------------------------------------------------- 
Photos : None.

*********************************************************************
From :  Pam <miladyjag@yahoo.com> 
Sent :  Sunday, February 6, 2005 10:47 PM 
Subject :  Chapter 2     
  
Lisa ran and called the fire dept.

::L.A. Fire Dept. What is your emergency?::

"L.A. School for Learning Disability. A child is having a seizure." 
Lisa stayed as calm as she could knowing Carly needed her to be so. 
After she gave the address to the dispatcher, she hung up.

The new dispatcher, training with Sam Lanier, placed the call to the 
units needed.  

::L.A. RESCUE 51-POSSIBLE SEIZURE. L.A. SCHOOL OF 
VOCATIONAL REHABILITATION 1157 CROSSWIND 
ROAD. ELEVEN FIVE SEVEN CROSSWIND ROAD,  
CROSS STREET CARSON. DRIVE TIMEOUT: 0722. SHERIFF'S 
DEPARTMENT HAS BEEN DISPATCHED TO YOUR LOCATION. 

Roy responded from the rescue squad. "Rescue 51,KMG 365." Johnny 
wrote the address as Roy replaced the mic into its cradle and began 
giving directions to the school, avoiding the detours caused by road 
work from a broken water pipe under the street they would normally 
travel.

"10 calls and we haven't been on shift for 5 hours; man looks like 
the full moon curse is early this time." Roy could always tell if 
Johnny's superstitious side was showing-especially if he saw a black 
cat...something that really caused a miniature rant to begin.

"It's not that, and I know it, it's this abnormal heat wave we're 
having." Roy was glad "The Phantom" had yet to play a joke on 
Johnny...opps "Pigeon" as Chet called him.

"Turn here, should be on the right." Both saw the school and were met 
at the door by the principal and Vince Howard.

"It's Carly, she's had a seizure in class. This way!" She began to 
run with the medics and officer as they went towards the classroom in 
question.

Soon as they were inside, they saw a child laying on the floor and 
furniture moved away from her. Several of the children were swiftly 
moved into another classroom soon as Lisa and Ms. Hanson saw what was 
happening, and to minimize the possible trauma of seeing this happen 
to a friend; also giving the men room to work swiftly.

"Sweetheart, can you open your eyes for me?" Johnny knelt beside her 
and began to take her vitals.

----------------------------------------------------------------------------

Photos:   None.

******************************************************************
From :  Cory Anda <andacory@hotmail.com> 
Sent :  Wednesday, February 9, 2005 5:25 AM 
Subject :  The Other Rescue Service 


Dawn was just past. The sea was choppy. It sucked 
greedily at the slender kelp strands shimmering in the warm 
morning sunlight while fleeing tendrils of fog still drifted over 
the newly reborn shoreline. The restless surf almost drowned 
out the sound of  vehicle navigating the beach. C.B. hails and 
responses punctuated the endless  song of the waves.

Garner Ellerbee was on patrol.

Garner looked like any other cop wearing a light blue polo 
shirt enblazoned with an iron on "L.A. County Police Department" 
badge. His three wheeler bike was similarly marked in white and 
gold paint. There, the comparison to regular police dress ended.
Garner's ebony legs poked naked out of navy Bermuda shorts 
and into navy knee socks and high top Nikes. His dark face and 
sharp crew cut contrasted with his mirrored shades and the soft 
blue of the sky. Garner scoped the shore up and down the long
line of light blue lifeguard towers running north and south.

They would be coming soon. A lot of them.

The stocky black man chuckled to himself. It was going to be 
another beautiful June day in southern California. Every day for 
the past twelve years, Garner made this morning survey of his 
sandy beat before the tide of public people came. His department 
worked in close conjunction with the mammoth lifeguarding 
operation of the Coast Guard network.

   Garner's beach was home to its headquarters, a high, gray 
planked building at the very midway point of an eight mile section 
of sand declared Roy Rogers State Park along the PCH.Huge one 
way glass windows cocooned the tip two stories and a single, white 
sign adorned its seaside face, "Baywatch Headquarters" it said in 
neon orange blocking. The watch windows were masking the hubbub 
of activity within.

   Garner soon noticed a fleet of yellow beach patrol trucks filing 
out of the base's garage bay. His eyes drew seaward. Already, the 
bright yellow rescue boat cruised a quarter of a mile out, covering 
the off reef waters with its usual visual surveillance. He waved to the 
vessel and was rewarded with an enthusiastic return of greeting.

Garner knew them all. He knew every lifeguard team on assignment 
personally. He hefted and thumbed the C.B. mike, "Mornin' to each 
and everyone of you lycra clad bodies. Ready for some fun in the 
sun today? Garner stats coming your way...."

The radio suffered a multitude of groans and moans from boat and 
trucks from all the lifeguards within them. 

"Surf's swell is lovely with 4 to 6 foot crests and the in-reef water 
temp is steady at seventy two. Headcount; Beaches are clear. 
Truck seven, you have four or five cart people in the tunnel between 
towers 14 and 15. I rate them a mild headache on the nuisance scale. 
They'll be no trouble for your flockers. Hey, hey,.. I almost forgot! The 
San Pedro gang's on vacation in the beautifully rustic city jail sunshine. 
Aren't we lucky ducks?"

Some hoots and cheers kissed his ears.  "That about wraps it. " Garner 
went on, "I hope happy, uneventful guarding fills your day."

A tenor voice piped on line, "Hey, Garner! Aren't you forgetting something?"

Garner Ellerbe felt about two dozen binoculars target him.  "Whaa?  Oh 
yeah."  He got off his bike seat stretching the mike's cord behind him. With 
his back to his motorcycle, he whirled the mike in the air like a lasso, 
grumbling to himself. He bit his lip in concentration. At a crucial
point, he let go...

The mike arched high, bounced once off of the black leather seat  
and up again. The mike tail spinned and neatly hung itself up on its 
own dash spigot clip.  Snick!

A thunder of applause, whistles and hoots drifted across beach 
and water and from the radio.

Garner bowed graciously. Then he sat on his trusted "chariot" 
to reflect.He had lost count of exactly how many water rescues, drug 
busts, gang fights and missing craft calls he had under his belt. 
The burly cop only knew that a lot of his reports or testimonies
proved to be the glue of making his criminal cases stick. A few of 
them had even become his closest friends.

The C.B. radio came alive in excited voice, "Way to hang it, Garner! 
What was that? Twentieth in a row?"

Garner smiled. It was Jill Riley, a veteran Lifeguard of thirty. He could 
almost see her strikingly fresh smirk and flaxen ponytail.  "Yeah.." he 
answered her. "Something like that. Where are you posted today?"

"Backside rim, D@mn it all. If you are here in three, maybe I'll still 
have enough chocolate eclairs left for you...."

"Shush, woman! My gut heard that. Don't you know I'm on a diet?!"

Jill answered knowingly, "Sure I do. That's why I'm having so much 
fun trying to break it."

"You demoness..!" he moaned.

"Weakling pawn!" she taunted, "Try not to drool on your shirt."

Click.

Garner chuckled again, patting his stomach. That shrewd woman 
would be the death of him sooner or later. He headed out to her tower 
with a chorus of seabirds smoking over his head.

It was going to be a beautiful day indeed.

-=-=-=-=--=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-
South, at the very edge of the public beach, was Jill Riley's  
vision of h*ll.

Right next to her assigned tower was the exclusively private, 
Billingsly's Club. Its peach adobe grounds and Queen's palms 
smacked of the very eminence of money.

The beach there was filled with neat white metal tables and chairs, 
shadowed under black and white striped umbrellas. An outdoor 
bar nestled in between them on an island of black marble tiles.
Closest to the water was a decrepit, sun-peeled watch chair of white 
wood seven feet in height.

Jill groaned aloud at the sight of it for the chair belonged to the 
club's very own, personal, Australian lifeguard.

"Trevor Cole.." she said aloud. The name was an oath in her mouth. 
The man was attractive enough with his short, curly blond locks and 
laughing green eyes,....but,.. Jill groaned again, even louder. The fact 
that he was short was no comfort. The man was a walking gonad.

Trevor charmed every pretty thing on the beach with his greek physique 
and Aussie drawl. Teenaged girls would fake a sprain in order to 
have him pay attention to them. And he gladly embraced them all,
literally. Jill had even heard Cole had had one or two statutory rape 
charges in his past; it was why the county would not let him 
become a lifeguard on the public beach.

Jill looked at her watch. It was nine o'clock. There was already a 
crowd of swimmers in her water...and his.... She looked about.. 

No Trevor.

Jill sighed and shifted her chair to give herself a clear view of the 
club's ocean front as well as the county's area waters.

"Mornin babe?  Missed me?" a colorful voice asked.

Jill turned. It was him. She didn't miss a beat. "Can't say that I 
did. I'm sure THEY missed you." She indicated the people 
wading in front of his watch chair.

Trevor ignored the barb, "My..my..my. Don't you look lovely in a 
red bathing suit."

Jill regarded Trevor's black and white striped boxers with a 
grimace, 'New dress code, eh. Can't clash
with the umbrellas now can we?"

Trevor's smile never wavered, "How about dinner tonight?  A 
little wine..  a little music...."

"..A little PEACE.." she countered, "You've been trying to ask 
me out for over two months. Give it up, Trevor. I'm not 
interested." Jill put on her sunglasses and looked out to sea.

Trevor laughed and strode over to his chair and climbed up into 
it. He made a big show of flexing all of his visible muscles 
noisily, affording Jill a sideways glance every now and then. He 
caught her looking at him stretching his deltoids. "I know you 
want me. So why don't you just face the facts..?"

Jill gave him a double take in utter disbelief and gagged in disgust. 
She promptly picked up her director's chair and put a whole tower 
wall and two hanging beach towels between herself and Trevor 
Cole. "This is definitely the tower assignment from H*ll...." she 
muttered.

-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=
Across town, many miles from the ocean, a museum got a 
nasty surprise. It was missing a crate of artifacts for its 
new exhibit, Atlantis, Myth or Fact?

The curator turned on the UPS delivery man in a barely 
contained fury,"Why does this always happen?! Whenever 
we pay for a rush in advance, we always get shortended! 
This is the third time this month, now,... I want  you.. to 
go back to base...and tell your superiors that they have 
two days to find it or else they are going to be minus one 
very big client!"

The man snapped to attention without thinking, "Yessir!" He 
turned on his heels and left.

The curator took a deep breath and regarded his now cold 
pasta rigoletto and rumpled cot in one corner of the 
receiving alcove.  He put a hand to his sweat drenched brow,
"I have to stop living like this.."  

Resigned to his fate, he turned back to his shipping order.

-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=
"Boy.. I could live like this forever.."

Eddie Kramer leaned out over the west rail of tower 34. 
Water kissed sunlight glinted from the ocean and dappled his 
tanned face and chest with vivid gold sparklets, "This is where 
I belong. Right here. In the sun. Right now." he thought with 
smug satisfaction. It was an easy day. Eddie had only had to 
go out to warn two little boys away from the pier's barnacle 
encrusted pilings. And that had been three hours ago. He bent 
over and pulled a cold St. Croix with lemon out of his cooler and 
tore the cap off with a twist. Its cool wet iced his throat with a 
silky caress all of the way down into his stomach. He shivered 
with a delicious chill, "Ooo.. that hits the spot."

Two girls lounging under the shadowing ramp giggled at his 
antics. Eddie smiled and politely ignored their idle interest. 
Secretly, he reveled in it. To his ears, that sound made the usual 
beach babble dance. Life was definitely going easy on Eddie 
"Buns" Kramer these days. It  hadn't always been that way.

It had taken Eddie most of his life to get the inner city 
Philadelphia rebel out of his system. Eddie was an ex-con. As a 
teen, he found himself thrown in prison for what he thought was 
a healthy venting of steam built up from living in a shattered home.

At nineteen, Eddie Kramer was going nowhere. He was nobody.

Eventually, he learned that his old man had taken up with 
prostitutes and drug dealers and his world became an endless 
stream of failed suicide attempts. When Eddie was released from 
prison, he was ordered to do community service. The only thing 
that appealed to him even slightly was working at the municipal 
public pool. He chose it solely for the fact that it was out of doors. 
He figured he had spent too much time behind far too many locked 
doors as of late.

Once there, Eddie's life took an unexpected turn. The pool 
was a place of ...magic. People from all walks of life untouched 
by abuse sought refuge in its cool waters. They did nothing but 
screech and splash. A few just floated on their fat. But they were 
happy...

Slowly, as a lifeguard, a beaten down half Chicano, half German 
kid became a true guardianover their long hours of liquidy delight. 
Eddie learned no misery could ever exist for long in that warm 
crystalline blue. Some days, burnt red from the sun and stinking 
of chlorine, all he wanted to do was quit and never come back.

But he didn't, because finally, Eddie Kramer had become.....somebody.



Eddie Kramer sighed contentedly and carefully sighted his target 
with his frigid bottle of ice water.  He flicked a wrist and casually 
sent an icy stream squarely down the center of a tawny back. A 
high pitched screech rewarded his efforts.

Shauni McLane sat bolt upright barely securing the ties of her 
sodden halter top,"Eddie Kramer!  That was the most....low down... 
rotten sleazy trick you have ever pulled!"

The accuse just snickered from behind his binoculars. It was fun 
pulling a fast one on a fellow rookie. Eddie scoffed and just 
smiled some more. He liked what he saw. Shauni was a real 
looker; she was an ex-model gone athletic. Her hair never ceased 
to fascinate him. It was platinum and was always twisted in a 
french braid in defense against the sea winds.

Best of all, her eyes were light filled, with the warmest shade 
of the purest crystalline blue.


"That was nasty and you know it." Shauni breathed, gasping 
from the chilling river still running 
into her shorts.

"Oh yeah?" came a new voice from the tower. Craig Pomeroy 
stepped outside the door carrying a director's chair under one 
arm, "So's sunbathing half naked for all the eligible bachelors 
on muscle beach to see right in front of your fiance.."

Shauni's jaw dropped in utter astonishment, "Craig, I can't 
believe you said that!" She made sure her sodden towel she 
was shaking out flung wet sand all over the pair of them.

Eddie reached down over the top rail of the deck and caught 
her in an affectionate bearhug, "He's right darlin'.. You've got 
me insanely jealous of every man who merely flicks a tiny muscle
at you."  He smooched her lips dramatically.

Craig smirked, "You're gonna haveta get used to it, Eddie. It's 
part of the package that goes along with one of these.." He 
waggled the finger tht held a wedding band significantly.

Eddie cocked his maned head, "Is that so?...." he leaned 
farther back on his chair's legs, "Well,....maybe I should......
take it BACK!" He charged Shauni down the angled ramp 
grabbing for her engagement ring.  

She shrieked in mock fear, "No you don't! No way am I ever 
going to part with this! I've had you on my line long enough, " 
she grew soft and let herself be captured, "And... I'm not ever 
going to let you go..."

"Oooo , that sounds so romantic.." Eddie crooned.  They kissed.

Craig smacked his forehead and looked skyward, "I can't 
believe these two were voted the most professional lifeguard 
team of the summer's rookie crop, I mean looked at you ... All 
gritty and smoochy..  Eeooww..    You are definitely behaving 
like ....juveniles...I'll have you know.."

-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-
A raw blob of hamburger sailed through the air and plopped 
with a wet splat into the frying pan."And he SCOORRREEESS!! 
Yes!  Hobie Buchannon is breaking hearts all over the basketball court
tonight, folks. That's two for O, dad. Go for it."

Mitch Buchannon smoothed his brown touseled hair and flashed 
a withering look at his eleven year old son, "Now you're a 
heartbreaker and Wilt Chamberlain? Well, prepare to  eat....my....
dust...."

Hobie planted his brown eyes into the most doleful expression 
he could muster, "Dad, do you know how ridiculous a thirty seven 
year old man looks balling up a chopped up wad of slimy cow guts
into a snowball?"

Mitch tried to ignore the innocent comment and failed at the 
last second. His ball of hamburger decorated the kitchen 
window in lovely strings of meaty gore.

"Got ya!" the boy smirked.

"No fair psyching out the competition!" Mitch laughed as he 
pinned Hobie into a headlock and messed up his blond hair. 
Mitch's hazel eyes reflected Hobie's energy and love of fun.

The petite boy broke free of the hold and plunked himself 
down into a dining room chair in front of a food laden table, 
"Rule number nine: No horseplay at the supper table unless 
you can get away with it. Dad, your elbow twitched that time."

"No it didn't."

"Yes it did." Hobie reminded him again. "Same as last week."

"No way..." Mitch said dishing up a serving of potatoes onto 
his plate, "I had everything under perfect, " he thunked another 
scoop of mashies onto his platter, "control.."

Hobie pounced, "So why'd you miss?"

Mitch regarded his son over  Sports Illustrated, "Smart Alec. 
Aren't you going to be late for Junior Lifeguards today?"

Hobie rolled his brown eyes, "Dad, as a lieutenant at work, 
aren't you supposed to know when programs like junior life 
saving, end for the week? Eddie called here last night to remind
you."

Mitch Buchannon laughed to himself, thinking.

Lieutenant, he thought. Newly promoted, kicked out of thongs 
and shorts for a desk and phone. Was it all worth it? Was it 
worth missing all of the action as an ex-beach guard? Mitch 
glanced over to a framed eight by ten of Jill Riley, Garner 
Ellerbee, Eddie Kramer, Shauni McLane, and a few others in 
formal lifeguard uniform, all pouring champagne over his head 
from their bottles. 

They sure threw him a good party when they'd heard the news.

Still, being in charge of Baywatch Operations was fascinating..
Mitch was the one who handled tower and boat assignments 
and coordinated water rescues. It was a far cry from just watching 
water for ten hours a day. And two weeks out of a year, Mitch 
could stilll get his feet wet manning a tower with a rookie-in-training.....


"You're right, Hobie. I did forget your courses ended today. I 
guess I have to eat more of these things.." Mitch stuffed a 
huge forkful of fish sticks into his mouth. 

Hobie chuckled, "Yeah.. mom used to be really good at keeping 
you on track with stuff like..." he broke off with a pained expression, 
looking up t his father with wide eyes, "Since...you know."

Mitch put down his magazine and put it away, "It's o.k., Hobie.
Talking about mom even though we're separated isn't  forbidden 
or anything. Besides, open communication is the "in" thing now days
and yeah, she was good at that.  Have some milk."

Hobie was silent.

Mitch felt his discomforture and spoke just to fill the quiet, 
"Listen Hobie. I'm....thinking about inviting her over for a while 
to stay a few weeks in August before school starts. Gail's 
already said yes, and.."

Mitch noticed how hard his own fingers were gripping the table's 
edge. He forced himself to relax them, "You can't know how 
much she misses you.. Have you read any of the letters she's sent
us?"

"No.." came the sharp reply.

Mitch tried not to show that his son's answer stung, "Wh-- 
Why not ? Hobie,,, Wh--"

"Because I didn't want to. " he replied. Hobie couldn't help 
glancing up at his father's face. He saw the hurt barely concealed 
in his eyes. A sudden stab of guilt coursed through him and he 
found himself saying, "She can come here. That is, if she can 
stop drinking so much."  The boy's tears flooded forth, unbidden, 
"I- I- I miss her too, dad. But it gets so hard acting normal around 
her. When she's here with you, I can't help but feel like some 
kind of football being bounced around between you guys whenever 
you fight over me."

"Hey...hey..hey.." Mitch wiped a tear away from Hobie's cheek, 
"It doesn't have to be that way any more now that I've...got 
custody.  Maybe this visiting thing will be a chance for us to try to
become friends again. At least, it can be a start..."

Hobie thought of all the bad times the three had experienced 
going through the divorce. And now, he was just about sick 
of facing it any more. But...he thought, people do change for the 
better. It was something both of his parents had taught him.

Hobie looked at his shoes, "O.k...let's.....give it  a shot.."

His dad's smile washed away any remaining doubt in Hobie's 
mind, "Let's go for it!" the boy shouted.

"One for O, Hobster... Come here..." Mitch embraced his son.  

Hobie tapped him on a shoulder.

"Hmmm?" Mitch mumbled from inside their hug.

"She can come on one condition..."

"And what's that?" Mitch asked.

"Hamburger rallies are our secret.."

"Deal."

-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=- 

Photo:  Dawn at a lifeguard tower.

Photo: Empty L.A. public beach.

Photo:  Baywatch headquarters and a banana tree.

Photo:  Lifeguard Jill Riley from NBC's baywatch show.

Photo:  Lifeguard Trevor Cole from NBC's baywatch show.

Photo:  Eddie Kramer from NBC's run of Baywatch.

Photo:  Shauni McLane from Baywatch first season.

Photo:  Hobie Buchanon from Baywatch. 

Photo: Mitch Buchanon, from Baywatch.

Photo: Baywatch beach cop Garner Ellerbe on a four wheeler.

**************************************************************
From:  "lafddispatcher" <lafddispatcher@y...> 
Date:  Wed Feb 9, 2005  2:19 pm 
Subject:  Confluence...

>"Sweetheart, can you open your eyes for me?" Johnny
>knelt beside her and began to take her vitals.

Immediately, Carly folded up into a grand mal seizure at just
a touch of his hands. "Roy, gimme the resuscitator. She's
gonna need it.." he said sharply, turning the convulsing twelve
year old onto her side to drain her mouth of food. Then
he looked up once Carly was ventilating well enough under the
positive pressure. "When did she eat last? I'm getting more
than just a bit under this suction."

Julie Hanson flushed red with stress and trepidation.
"We just finished having lunch with the other children. Is she
gonna be all right?"

"Ma'am, we're doing everything possible. Now, what
can you tell me about her medical history? Tell me everything
you can." Roy said, listening to her breath sounds over the
skin of her chest. Inside, he was happy the teachers had
had the foresight to remove her clothing down to her
underwear for safety. "Johnny, her lungs are clear. She
breathing?"

"Not very well. I've taken that over." Gage replied,
struggling to keep adequate oxygen pushing into
the girl's shaking body without injuring her.

Julie Hanson spoke quickly, moving her very upset
assistant, Lisa, to a chair to steady her. "Her name's
Carly Davison, and she's twelve. She's autistic because
of early seizures from a time when she had stopped
breathing. She's had none now for almost a year, until
today. This one is..is real bad.." she whispered, her fright
making her voice tremble.

Roy looked up from where he was laying out an
endotracheal tube in advance, even as he set up
the biophone to call Rampart Base. "Has Carly had
any other history of previous metabolic disturbances? Has
she eaten anything strange or new? Or played with a new
kind of school supply, like paint or with latex based clay?
Has she taken sick, developed a fever recently?" Roy probed.

"No, nothing like that. Her mother Cory's been scrupulous about
keeping her daughter well cared for despite of being a paraplegic
and jobless, herself.." said the school nurse.
"Can you stop the convulsions? Carly's doctor told me that they
shouldn't be allowed to last any time at all. We were given these
to use in case Carly ever had a seizure while at school. But I haven't
had time to administer them yet." And she handed Roy a plastic
baggie full of torpedo shaped white capsules. "And here's the
authorization form signed by Mrs. Davison and Carly's doctor."

Gage took the bag and read the inscription on back of the silver
foiled packet and only glanced at the consent form.
"Valium, suppositories. Point four milligrams." Then he looked to
Officer Howard. "Vince, take over for me. We're gonna be busy
trying to get an I.V. started. She'll manage easy enough for
you in spite of these muscular contractions. Whenever her head
flips backwards between your knees, give her a shot from the valve."

"Got it." said the large sized African American policeman. He took 
off his helmet, tossing it onto the lunch table and got to work.

Lisa, nearby, started trying to hide the fact that she was beginning
to cry. "Oh, Julie, things were going so well. We were supposed to
leave to go to the Santa Monica Beach tomorrow for the kids' yearly 
Junior Lifeguards camping trip."

Johnny's head snapped up in surprise at their destination, but
he couldn't afford to comment. He got right down to getting
a second blood pressure off Carly as best he could while Roy
got on the line.

"Rampart, this is Squad 51. Come in."

##Go ahead, 51. ## said Dr. Joe Early, almost immediately.

"Rampart, we have a twelve year old female, with a history of
a prior severe seizure disorder which has led to early childhood
hypoxic autism. She's currently in a grand mal under active
ventilations on one hundred percent O2. Uh, Rampart, her air
passages are free of spasming and clear of any gastric debris."
reported Roy. "And her last bad seizure was over a year ago.
BP's at least 90. I'm getting a radial. Pulse's real tachy."

##10-4, 51. Do you have parental consent?##

"That's affirmative, Rampart. A written note from a school
RN via a doctor to treat for this condition."

##Understood. Does she phase clonic long enough to initiate
an I.V, 51?##

Roy looked up at Johnny, who shook his head in an answer.

"That's negative, Rampart. The convulsions are now growing
too violent for needlework. However we do have the child's
prescribed rectal Valium. Its dosages are in .4 mg/kg increments."

##Ok. Use a first and second, 51. But don't exceed more than
1 mg per minute trying for her sedation. After those two doses,
wait it out, until you can establish a Lactated Ringer's I.V. TKO.
See if her breathing returns. If it doesn't, sedate to paralysis by
any route Valium to get her ET intubated and supported
on ambu. Keep in mind that she may just as quickly regain
consciousness after the postictal state into a full recovery.
Be prepared to handle that particular outcome if you do
utilize that airway. Treat her for shock. I want vitals every five
minutes and transport as soon as possible.##

"10-4, Rampart. Rectal Benzodiazepine times two.
On apnea after cessation, ET intubate following
full sedation; otherwise, manual ambu only. I.V. Ringer's
to maintain." Roy looked up at the sound of an ambulance
approaching. "Rampart, looks like our ride's here. Our ETA 
will be ten minutes."

##Bring her in without sirens, 51. Draw a purple top
for a glucosal analysis, antecubital A.S.A.P., and an ice
slurried red for an arterial blood gas. Bring both of
them, Carly's forms and any other medications belonging
to her along with you. Send an EKG en route.##

"Affirmative..Draw a purple and iced red, transport consent and
prescriptions. Lead two is coming in ...two minutes.." said Roy. 
He set down the phone to help Johnny glove up and position 
Carly best to sedate her.

 Soon, the medication started working and Carly relaxed
out of her active seizuring and she immediately began to
sigh occasionally around Vince's gentle mask placed breaths.
Her chest started to move with a regular rhythm that everyone
could see.

"She's finally breathing." Gage said, placing a hand on the child's
stomach. " We'll get by with an oral just fine.." and he reached
over to the oxygen case for a short oral. He placed it deftly over
Carly's tongue and traded out Vince's ventilator valve for a
simple plastic non-rebreather mask. "Thanks Vince. You're
as handy as always."

"Anytime.." and the cop stepped back to begin filling out
his report and taking an account from Julie Hanson.
"Ladies, if I could just get a few words from you before she
goes to the hospital..."

Soon, the tiny white blond girl was bundled warmly, dried of
all moisture, and strapped onto a long board inside of a cervical
collar to keep her safely secured for the trip across town
to the ER.

On the way out the door, following the ambulance attendants,
Johnny leaned into Lisa curiously. "Did I hear you correctly
that all your students are headed out to Malibu beach
tomorrow to attend some kind of lifeguard program for kids..?"

"Yes, that's right.." said Lisa. "Little Carly was so looking forward
to bringing her mother to the beach."

"Carly's got a good chance of going along. She's had no serious
complications today that a good night's sleep won't cure. Everything
we did was just supportive, uh..." and Johnny held out his free hand
out around all his packaged up medical gear.

"Oh,, Lisa.. Lisa Gibbons." and she returned his handshake.

"Nice to meet you Ms. Gibbons." he smiled graciously,
"Perhaps my partner and I will see you out there.
You see, our whole station's been assigned to help out
that program with teaching CPR to all the kids coming in
for a week...Well, that's along with attending a firefighter
convention at the convention center in town in the 
evenings."

"Julie and myself won't be going..." blinked Lisa, wise 
his flirting already. "There are lifeguard teachers at Baywatch
who will be substituting for us and serving as parental
guardians while our school kids are there."

"Oh, I see.. Well, I'll be sure Roy, uh, that's my partner
and me, my name's Johnny Gage, will keep a really close 
eye on Carly while she's attending all the activities."

"Thank you." said Lisa politely. "We and Mrs. Davison
would really appreciate the extra paramedic eye 
watching over her."

"It'll be no problem at all." smiled Gage toothily, still 
locked and lost in Lisa's brown liquidy gaze. He didn't
care if they were still red from stress.

Roy whistled, loudly. Johnny looked up. "Let's
go, Dudley Do Right. The horse can't wait for ya." DeSoto 
said, already most of the way across the school's expanse of 
sunny lawn, following the attendants swiftly. They were towing 
Carly's gurney to the street.

Johnny startled, and dropped his helmet, which Lisa
stooped down and promptly returned to him. Then Gage
dropped his green pen from the notebook he stuck
between his teeth in order to retrieve his navy jacket
from on top of the drug box. "I'll be right behind ya
in the squad, Roy. I know the way, remember?!"

But the ambulance had already loaded up and
was moving away silently with only its lights flashing.

When Johnny Gage turned around to thank Lisa for
his helmet and pen, she had gone to go comfort a now 
visibly sobbing Julie, sitting frozen in a desk chair. 
Scooping up a business card from the occupational school's 
entryway, Johnny said, "Don't worry. I'll call both of ya with 
progress reports on how much fun Carly's having. We both 
promise to... Ok?"

Both tired, numb women finally offered a pair of slight grins. 

Johnny left the school at a fast run, hurrying to stow his 
equipment fast enough to catch up to Roy's rig without 
speeding drastically. 

Vince gave him a wave as he returned to his own squad car. 
On the passenger's seat of the car, was the same convention 
flyer that Station 51's men had received along with their orders 
from Headquarters to go do community service and get in a bit 
of career shadowing with a sister service at the lifeguard network 
hub. Howard's assignment on the beach, was going to be a little 
different. He was assigned to learn how Malibu actually polices a 
ten mile long stretch of soft powdery sand and pounding tidal surf
zones that regularly saw the feet of over half a million people 
each day of the Caifornian summer.
::Maybe there'll be even more folks showing up because of
all this heat we've been having lately. A little swimming time to
cool off while I'm there's definitely in the cards. But it'll sure be 
weird trading my uniform pants out for a pair of bermuda shorts:: 
Vince thought ruefully.

Vince Howard's night shift was just over, so he made
his way home eventually after grocery shopping
to pack a very full suitcase for the upcoming convention
event called Trading Stations.

---------------------------------------------------- 

Photos:  None.

*********************************************
From :  Roxy Dee <laterrapincabesa@hotmail.com> 
Sent :  Thursday, February 10, 2005 6:47 AM 
Subject :  Beach Shennanigans~~ 
  
On the beach, things were heating up. 

It was the longest embrace Craig had ever seen. Craig Pomeroy 
smirked. "Three minutes! That's got to be a record or something. 
Hey, Eddie.. Maybe this year, we can hold a kissing contest at 
the big picn--" He broke off. 

They were ignoring him. 

He tried again. "Guys, don't you come up for air at all? 
Shauni?? Hey--"  ::Yep. Deaf as doornails. :: 
Craig looked skyward. Then he got a devil of an idea. 
He thought of a particularly nasty lifeguard captain who was 
notorious for firing rookies on the spot for the slightest infraction. 
He gasped. "Uh oh. Thorpe alert. Thorpe alert." 

The results were spectacular. The two entwinees sputtered 
and flew apart rearranging various items of intense concern 
such as loose hair strands and clothing. "Where?! 
Wh--??" Eddie blurted. 

A towel cracked inches away from his face. Its master, Craig, beamed. 
"Sorry guys. I just played a mean dirty trick on you BOTH. Aren't 
you lucky that ol' Thorpe is on vacation for a whole month!!" 

Eddie's face looked rather pale from his initial shock but then he 
began to grin dangerously. The couple collapsed in limp relief into 
each other's arms. "Would you mind not doing that?! You know, 
this joking thing might turn into something you may not like buddy, 
ol' possibly-ex-partner-of-mine." 

Craig was candid. "Yeah? Right. No horseplay on deck now. Listen, 
I'm serious." (He wasn't) Guys... it's pretty hard watching the water 
alone, no offense Shauni, but when you're around, Eddie's 
useless to me." 

"I am not!" Eddie protested. 

Craig grinned evilly. "Prove it." He tossed over a pair of binoculars 
to Eddie, who barely saved his face from eating eight inches of 
black metal and glass. 

Then he glanced up at the ocean. He immediately frowned. He 
tossed a second pair to Shauni as well. "But I'm not on duty..." 
she stated. 

"You are now. There's the start of a rip out there. Let HQ know 
about it." 

"Right." Shauni said and jogged up the sky blue ramp into the 
tower and picked up a phone receiver just inside the frame doorway. 

Sid, the switchboard operator answered. "Baywatch, HQ." 

Shauni was brief. "Rip at 34. We need backup surveillance. 
Swimmers are clear." 

In the nerve center of the watch station, Sid affirmed his latest 
call. "Righto, Shauni. I'm on it." He hung up, writing the info 
down on a piece of paper. He swiveled in his chair at the sound 
of approaching footsteps behind him. He greeted Mitch. 
"Boss, we've got a potential hot spot." 

"Where?" 

"Tower 34." 

"Who's manning it today?" 

"Craig and Eddie." 

Mitch thought hard, "Ok, no biggie, ah... keep me posted. I 
wanna know the minute something does down, " Mitch 
started away, then he turned back, "OOo, no pun intended." 

Sid smothered a laugh, "Of course." 

Mitch left neatly. 

Sid turned back to his switch board, quietly giggling to himself. 
"I hear ya." 
--  --  --  --  --  --  --  --  -- 

Craig hefted a red neon rescue can onto a shoulder, "I'm going 
on patrol. Eddie, check with the other towers, see if they've got 
heavy water developing, too. Shauni, get the flag up." 

The two nodded and watched Craig jog down the ramp and begin 
a scouting run along the water's edge, keeping his eye on the muddier 
water of the abnormal current he had spotted and its relation to where 
the sea bathers were. So far, things  were normal. 

According to his wife, Craig was the only transplanted Manhattan 
lawyer whose closet was half filled with power suits and half with 
ragged beach wear. He had to admit, even the maid scoffed at 
umpteen paris of sandy toe thongs lying alongside three hundred 
dollar eelskin shoes. 

Craig combed some fingers through his salt powered, light brown 
hair as he ran. So far, he was lucky. As well as he could tell, the 
bay was still behaving herself and was cooperating with her usual 
fair day swells. There were no surprises, .......yet. 

He returned to his thoughts. 

Craig couldn't give up lifeuarding for the life of him. He took the 
gentle jabs dished out by fellow colleagues at his law firm in food 
humor, He chuckled at some of them" The surfer who never grew 
up, Hey sea bum! Ya do any heavy breathing to a gorgeous babe 
today? 

Pomeroy made no excuses. He loved the work. It was in his blood. 

He had come a long way. 

  Mitch Buchannon and he had been old college roommates back 
in the early seventies. Back then, the two were avid surferheads desiring 
nothing but a rad wave and an occasional one night stand. Together, 
they had the dubious honor of throwing the best beach parties around. 
Craig laughed to himself as he remembered all of the swimming races 
he and Mitch used to hold to see which one of them was the stronger. 
It seemed only natural for both of them to wind up as lifeguards with 
the county. The job suited their spontaneous egos. 

They were one of the best lifeguard teams for many years. 

Beach bathers, especially junior high aged ones, came to know them 
as the "Dynamic Neon Dudes". It must have looked funny seeing a 
tall, brawny Mitch next to a tall, but lithe Craig, running down the 
beach in tandem with matching black shades and red neon trunks. 
many female eyes were turned and it wasn't long before one particular 
black-haired girl carried Craig's heart away to the altar. It was Gina 
who took him to New yark to finish his PhD in law. 

But the lure of the ocean remained and he soon returned.... to 
his beach. His sand. 
It felt good under his feet. 

Craig's eye followed the curl of the rip current flowing against 
the incoming surf.  All of the swimmers were safely away from it, 
a good six hundred yards distant from the dark trough of out 
going muddy surge. He'd make sure that no one ventured into it... 

He signalled the tower by waving his hand and gesturing with 
his life buoy by drawing a line straight above his head and down 
again three times. 

Shauni saw him through her binoculars and signalled back, raising 
the red and yellow flag to half mast on its pole. One by one, the 
bathers heeded the cautionary and moved away from the rip. They 
moved north of the flag to where safety remained. 

Craig relaxed a little and let them stay in the water. 

--  -- --  --  --  --  --  --  --  --  --  --  --  --  --  --  --  --  --  --  --  --  --  --  --  -- 
Cory Davison drove her motorized wheelchair along the ocean 
view walkway.The ocean gave her the tranquility that was so absent 
now from her life. Cory found herself watching the snorkling instructors 
and their students learning the art of diving way out among the waves. 
She brushed an errant red strand of hair away from her eyes as tears 
threatened suddenly. 

No, Cory Davison, ex-dolphin instructor for the Point Loma Naval 
Cetacean Institute, would never know the joys of swimming again. 
Thanks to a stupid accident, her legs were dead.  Oh, it really wasn't 
the fault of the institute that an orca was turned loose by an animal 
rights activist into the tank she and her dolphins were training within. 
No, security had been as tight as it had always been that day. 

Cory shivered against the memory. 

She had reacted reflexively, without thinking, and she had put 
herself between the confused semi wild whale and her dolphin 
charges.  The powerful wake left by the whale's flukes as it veered 
off sucked Cory into an open running filter grate and her back was 
broken in two pieces. Full restitution had followed naturally and the 
settlement had been a big one.... 

So now, Cory had her life back. 

She was without the freedom to pursue her life's ambition. Eight 
years of cetacean research had gone to waste. 'What a shame..' 
her colleagues had said in the hospital when they thought she 
was too sedated to hear them. "What a shame..." Cory the 
current quadraplegic echoed out loud. Quickly, she blinked 
away the sea and turned up the radio she had on a special mount 
by her head. It was the news of the hour and the weather report 
was next,  "...This just in. The Naval Institute is missing a dolphin 
this afternoon from their highly classified testing facility. Charles 
Isaac, co-leader of the Greenpeace movement, was caught releasing 
the animal to the open sea while chanting animal rights slogans. The 
County Court House is expected to hear the case on Thursday. The 
amount set for bail is not yet known.... Moving on to the weather..." 

Cory caught her breath, "Koko?  Gone?" 

She began racing her chair down the boulevard to the stony point of 
land reaching far out into the water. Once there, Cory began searching 
the breakers eagerly for any sign of dolphin.    But only a wild pod 
of them were schooling fish beyond the reef in their usual fashion. 

Cory's heart sank. But something inside of her would not die. 

She took out a slender chrome whistle of high tech design on a 
matching chain from around her neck thoughtfully. 

--  --  --  --  --  --  --  --  --  --  --  --  --  --  --  --  --  --  --  --  --  --  --  --  -- 
It was one o'clock in the afternoon. At 327 South Seventh Street, 
sunlight poured through a tiny flat's bay window that over looked 
the ocean. Its beams washed over therapy equipment against one 
wall and then onto a light walnut table. 

There, a sun-warmed walnut frame glinted in the sun revealing a 
portrait of a slender girl in a wheelchair and a medal of valor from 
the Navy draped on a ribbon across its edge. Next to it was
a picture of a smiling twelve year old little girl, Carly.

This was Cory Davison's home. A place where her sharp realities 
could be escaped, if only for a little while, through the creation of 
pastel drawings. Hundreds of chalk dolphins etched on paper 
swam in a river of pages over the tan bedspread. 

The papers were weighed down by a small crate of wood which lay 
on a pillow. An address label on its nearby lid read, "Attn. El Cajon 
Museum of Cultural History, 327 North Seventh Street, La Jolla, CA." 

A rich treasure trove of artifacts lay within the box, glowing under 
the light, only partially packed in shipping sawdust. 

No one was home. 

Suddenly, a shadow marred the harmony of sunbeams inside the 
small cabana. A figure was standing at the window. 

Black gloved hands tested the window latch and found it unlocked. 
White lamay curtains billowed in the wind, concealing the figure 
as it stepped inside the room. Paper dolphins flew everywhere 
and into the intruder's face as the crate was lifted into black 
clothed arms. 

The robber grunted and nearly dropped the precious find in surprise. 
The eyes did not see a heavy object fall onto the bed from the crate 
before a drawing tumbled in the seawind from the open window and 
covered where the artifact fell. There was no time to waste. The 
crook had what was sought by so many. 

The dark figure left the way it came. 

A last breeze from the closing window cleared the bed of sketches, 
revealing an object of beauty which sent the sunlight sparkling into 
all corners of the room. 

It was a foot high sculpture of a dolphin leaping within a curling wave 
and the light it cast so brilliantly from the sunlight, graced the bed 
richly. The ancient statue was made of the purest gold. 

------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Photo:  Craig Pomeroy, lifeguard, smirking.

Photo: Lifeguard rookie 
           Shauni McLane, standing over a watchtower railing.

Photo: Lifeguard rookie Eddie Kramer, sitting, embarrassed.

Photo:  Riptide warning flags on a beach, with a surfer in background.

Photo:  A woman in a wheelchair, cruising the shoreline.

Photo: A gold dolphin statue of great age.

*************************************************************************
From :  Cassidy Meyers <killashandraRey@hotmail.com> 
Sent :  Thursday, February 10, 2005 12:13 PM 
Subject :  [EmergencyTheaterLive] Foggy foggy dew and lifeguards, too. 


Johnny Gage hefted up his knapsack and blinked into the
misty morning. He was toes deep in ocean sand and feeling
more disoriented with every passing second.  A loud
rawkious noise assaulted him and he ducked as a pair of
bold seagulls dive bombed his head, looking for handouts.

"Ahh! Go away...!" he snapped at them, flailing his arms
over his head in irritation.

"Can't go away, we're supposed to show up here at
Baywatch Headquarters to greet all the kids as they come in."
Roy's figure appeared out of the murk and he calmly drew out
a portable airhorn from his pocket and kicked it off, frightening
away the birds.

A treble screech of surprise made Johnny look down to
about waist level towards the noise. "Chris DeSoto? What
are you doing here?"

The boy just smirked and watched his father peer about into
the fog making sure the birds were gone for good. "Heh.
Dad figured the camp children would be intimidated by
seeing men firemen teaching em something and too awe struck 
hero worshipping the life guards to concentrate enough to learn 
anything, so that's where I come in. I'm gonna show those guys
all the CPR steps and help teach it along with dad."

Gage rubbed a sleeper out of his eye. "Huh, might work. Roy,
you'd better hit that airhorn again to get someone's attention up
there through all this fog. Cause my knocking hasn't been doing
anything yet so far. Besides, my heart's pounding so fast from
that air attack that I can't move my arms yet."

"You're kidding.." laughed Chris. "I love seagulls. They never
take any crud from anybody. And they sound neat, too. Their
calls can put me to sleep at night."

"I can't see seagulls as calming unless it's at a distance." Johnny
admitted, ruffling Chris's hair.

"I love the brassy noises gulls make. Nothing but positive memories. 
Not many sounds give ya that kind of effect." Roy countered.
"Ready?"

"Yeah."

"Maybe this'll wake you up more, too, while it's being our doorbell.
You've never been much of a morning person." Roy let loose 
another wail from the horn, making sure it wasn't in a set of three 
blasts that would cause an emergency to be declared by the watch 
guard.

Finally, the lifeguard station garage door opened.
"Roy DeSoto and Johnny Gage?" a beaming Jill Riley greeted
quizzically.

"And son." said Chris DeSoto, taking the lifeguard's hand warmly.
"Yep. We're your first aid teachers for today."

"Great. Captain Stanley told me to expect you. The rest of your
station crew's already inside with us having breakfast. Come on in.
Don't worry about being late. The fog's delayed the student busses
arriving from the Hotel until mid morning. We've plenty of time to
work out a teaching itinerary."

Gage shook the woman's hand. "Glad to meet you, Jill. Tell me,
is there a Carly Davison on your list of kids for our CPR class
today?"

Riley checked her lifeguard slate. "I believe she is. Do you know
her?"

Roy smiled. "In a matter of speaking. We took care of her
yesterday in school on a run and we've promised her teachers
that we would keep an eye on her."

"That'll be all of us watching then. We got the heads up on
her seizure disorder and we'll have a beach truck nearby in
case anything happens to her again." the tall blonde ponytailed
lifeguard sighed. 

"Let's go. I didn't know where to put the CPR manikin so I left
it in our rover." Johnny said.

"That's ok. I'll send down one of the rookie guards to collect
it after we eat."

Shivering in the early morning chill, Johnny began to anticipate
putting on a lifeguard jacket over his fire uniform. "Man, is it
always this foggy at six am? This stuff's thicker than pea soup."

Jill Riley laughed, showing them the way upstairs to the main
Headquarters area in front of all the spot windows. "Only on
days that are gonna turn out to be real scorchers. It's called
a land/sea breeze. It'll burn off by eight thirty or so. Don't worry.
We'll still be able to hold class on the beach as we planned."

"Good deal. Come on, Chris. I'll bet they have your Wheaties already
on the table." Roy said, shoving his son forward ahead of them
on the gray blue painted wooden stairs.


In the main rec room, all the lifeguards not on towers were
there along with the rest of Station 51's gang. Chet greeted
Roy, Johnny and Chris by saying....

----------------------------------------------------------------------------------
Photo: A fog bound coastline.

Photo: Johnny and Roy in the squad, lost in fog.

Photo:  Attacking seabirds.

Photo: Chris DeSoto in a blue T shirt.

Photo: Jill Riley, lifeguard, inside Baywatch headquarters.

************************************************************************* 
From:  "chameleonkate01" <chameleonkate@h...> 
Date:  Sat Feb 12, 2005  3:36 pm 
Subject:  Breakfast Banter
  
"Well, well, well. Look who finally decided to put in an appearance. 
I think I'm gonna haveta talk to the dispatcher here and see 
about hardwiring your hotel room's phone into L.A. so you guy'll 
start receiving our usual station wake up morning check. Say,
Chris, did you throw those pillows I told you to try to get these two 
sleeping beauties out of bed?" Kelly grinned.

Gage and DeSoto, stuck in the presence of strangers, had
to be politely civil and curb their first instinctive sarcastic replies.

Chris DeSoto smiled toothily. "Yeah, sure did. Took three
pillows to get "Uncle" Gage up. Thanks for the suggestion."

"Anytime. Keep those good ideas coming, Chet. I know how the 
vacation syndrome works, first ya can't slow yourself down, and 
then you can't get moving again, for days..." said the dark haired 
boy.

Johnny cleared his throat loudly in embarrassment to atone for
he and his partner being late. "Must've been all that good sea
air druggin' us into a stupor. Our lungs didn't know what to make
of the absence of all the usual city smog.." he grinned. 

Baywatch Captain Thorpe, sitting to Hank Stanley's right, wiped
his mouth free of scrambled egg and pushed his empty plate aside.
"It's quite all right, young man. I saw the kind of business your 
firehouse pulled in the last twenty four hours. The two of you went 
on more rescues in a day, than my whole lifeguard tower crew force 
did in three days. You were bound to crash hard and that, is something
that's entirely excusable."

"Thanks, Mr. Thorpe. At least somebody understands the workload Roy
and I have been handling." Gage said, smiling and throwing eye 
daggers at Kelly.

Hank nodded. "17 runs in 20 hours. That's definitely a station record..."

"For what, Cap? What about our fire engine's record day?" asked Chet. 
"In 1970, we did a 25-er that year; when we got all those brush fires 
in the hills. While Roy and Johnny were messing around with that baby 
goat call, we put in at least a dozen hot spot appearances."

Stanley afforded Chet a no nonsense, don't cross me glance, highly 
tempered."....for any shift's paramedic squad, Kelly. You didn't let me finish 
my sentence. Please clam up and eat. Our guest hosts are going to be 
splitting us into our teaching and tower shadowing assignments before the
sun clears the horizon. Eleven's when all the kids come in for guard camp."

Chet bobbed his head in cooperation, giving up on needling his two
favorite targets.

Jill Riley changed the subject, but she was grinning. She fully understood
what ribbing meant. "We've some clock radios handy gentlemen, if
you think the Tropical Paradise Syndrome'll KO young Mr. DeSoto here,
too."

"Those'll work.." said Gage quickly, glomming on to a solution to a serious
problem. "Thanks, Miss Riley."

Roy shoved a milk carton near and opened it for his son, before
he winced and caught himself in the act for being too parent-y.
"Chris's all green lights. He pulls CPR sets even cleaner than we do."

"Ain't that the truth. Mike Stoker here's the one who drilled him."
Johnny said through his food full mouth.

Mike Stoker cracked a few knuckles in unabashed pride, staying
silent.

Lt. Mitch Buchannon walked into the room holding a sheaf of papers
from his office desk. "It's all set people. Oh, hiya guys. Looks like our
two guest paramedics finally got here. Hobie. Go eat." he said.

Chris's eyes got real big at the sight of another boy his age, wearing
a junior lifeguard's outfit. "Wow, is that you, Hobie Buchannon? I saw you
in the newspaper a couple of months ago for saving that little girl who
fell off the pier..." he said with big eyes. "I don't know how you did that.
I would've completely chickened out jumping off from so high a place."

"The secret's keeping your feet together and folding your arms around
yourself when you hit." said Hobie, instantly bonding with Chris DeSoto.
"Here, let me tell you some other pointers.." and the two boys fell into
animated conversation much to the amusement of all the adults.

Chet split a gut and kept on chewing.

"It'll sure be nice having some medics around this week without having to
wait for an ambulance on all our surf victim calls." said a rookie girl.

Captain Thorpe held up his hand. "Now, now now. Station 51 is here
to learn from us and us from them in a kind of....cultural exchange while
they're here for their firefighter's convention. They aren't here to pull
a full working shift."

"No, but we'll help out whenever possible. We have to by law anyway,
We're still in Los Angeles County." Roy said matter of factly.

"Ok, but only for the serious ones right in and around HQ. I won't
have you fellas overextending yourselves unnecessarily." Don said.

"Spoken like a true captain.." said Stanley. "A man after my own
heart. Glad to make your acquaintance, Don.." Hank said, offering
Thorpe his hand. "I think we'll keep all our people in sharp enough
order easily enough without them playing too much in the sand."

"So we will, Hank. I've already sent for someone who'll be able to
spy on them to keep tabs on how they're getting along with the 
kids. He's teaming up with your own service area's Officer 
Vince Howard. A Sergeant Garner Ellerbe. A good man and a very solid
dependable sort of beach cop. They'll be cruising around on all terrain
bikes every day while all the children are here." Don teased. "My
lifeguards'll have their hands full enough just watching the public ones."

"Where is Vince now?" asked Hank.

"Getting fitted into his beach uniform downstairs. I heard his voice 
asking Garner about what colored socks'll go best with Bermuda 
navy shorts." Don said. "I've already given him a radio set to the
same frequency as the towers and to our camp staff's active channel.
Also, after you and your men, and...little Chris DeSoto, here, get fitted
into your lifeguard jackets,..Sid Malone, our dispatcher on
the switchboard'll hand out one to each of you."

"Looking forward to it.." Cap smiled, speaking for his hungrily eating
men.

---------------------------------------------------------------------

Photos : None.

************************************************************
From :  patti keiper <pattik1@hotmail.com> 
Sent :  Saturday, February 12, 2005 4:58 PM 
Subject :  [EmergencyTheaterLive] The Mirage.. 
 
It was noon, exactly.

Trevor Cole, the private club's Australian lifeguard, 
was having an excellent day. He was looking for the day's 
perfect ten. 

He scanned his water and saw her.... a gorgeous blonde 
almost lost in the foamy breakers. He smiled and waved at her. 
She waved back, all teeth and golden tresses.

Trevor cat called.

Jill, still stuck in the tower next to him, rolled her eyes with a look 
of long suffering. Totally avoiding a glance at Jill, Trevor checked 
the angle of the sun and noticed it was lunch time. He signalled 
his replacement, a zitfaced eighteen year old named, Matt Brody. 
"Yo, Matt! Front and center." he drawled in his Aussie accent.

The knobbed kneed kid grabbed his sunglasses and started 
jogging in macho style over to his partner and promptly tripped 
over his huge feet. He scrambled upright and managed to make 
it to Trevor without losing too much face, "Shift change?" he 
drooled eagerly.  

Trevor shook his head ruefully. Whoever hired this dolt for 
lifeguarding surely had little in the brains department. Trevor 
figured he'd better tread lightly, though, for the kid might turn 
out to be the club owner's son for all he knew. At any rate, he 
couldn't resist a barb or two, "Stop sticking your chest out, kid, 
or you'll wind up cracking a few ribs."

"Oh,... ah, " Matt articulated, "I remembered my binoculars 
today, Trev."

Trevor smiled blandly, "Good. Every good lifeguard ought to 
have 'em, don't you think?" 

"Heh, heh, heh." I know, buddy boy. That's why I brought 
them."

The Australian decided not to press the issue, "Fine."
The blonde barbie was still giving him the eye so Trevor 
decided to pay his bathing beauty a personal call. He tossed 
his head seaward, "Hey Matt. Ain't she a looker?"

The freckled teen looked and saw no one in the water except 
Mrs. Fishmeyer. "Her?" he laughed, "You must have a thing for 
grandmotherly types."

Trevor glanced out again and saw his perfect ten still smiling 
at him from the seafoam."Matt. Quit kidding with me, all right? 
Tell me you see a young, blonde woman out there by the reef buoy."

Matt searched again. "No, man." he frowned. "You must have 
been in the sun too long or something. How about going in for a 
swim to cool yourself off?"

Trevor, still seeing his dream girl, nodded confusedly, "Yeah, 
right. I I-I think I'll do just that."

He jumped down out of his chair, letting Brody take his place and 
he waded out into the water in front of them. He swan dived into 
the waves marveling at how well the woman was holding her own 
in the large, white breakers out there. She was both head and 
shoulders out of the water, beckoning to him with both arms. 
Trevor shook his head. "Oh, well." he thought. "She's a mystery, 
but I'll soon find out." 

He swam powerfully out to sea. "Hey,..what are you doing way 
out here?!" he shouted. She didn't reply but wavered tantilizingly 
close, flashing him a winning smile. Trevor tried again with an 
even bigger smile. "What's your name, doll?"

Trevor was very near her when she laughed and ducked beneath 
a wave. "Hey!" he cried. He waited expectantly for dainty hands 
to pull at his trunks. A minute past. But still, he felt no fingering 
caresses. Trevor grinned like a cheshire cat, "So, it's hide and 
seek, eh? Two can play that game."

He dove under for a peek and saw a figure swimming masterfully 
over the coral shoals far beneath him. He caught a glimpse of 
shimmering green, and a......tail?!

Trevor shot upwards. Now he really WAS confused. It was far too 
shallow for tuna to be around. And just where did the girl disappear 
to?  Then he heard silvery laughter behind him. Whirling, he saw a 
mass of hair and an incredible smile beneath the water.

Her beautiful face was framed by the noon day glare from the 
surface and his eyes watered heavily as he tried to look past it. He 
squinted, and suddenly, she was gone. "What th--?"

Then a huge whirlpool sucked him away. 

He had forgotten about the rip current! Its strength was terrible 
and Trevor was helpless within it.

--  --  --  --  --  --  --  --  --  --  --  --  --  --  --  --  --  --  --  --  --  --  --  --  --  --
At tower 34, Shauni McLane had just finished changing into her red 
lifeguard suit. She was starting for the door when the phone on 
the inside door frame started ringing. "I'll get it Eddie!" Shauni 
shouted, and answered it, "Tower 34, McLane here."

A voice babbled into her ear.

"A WHAT was sighted by Crystal Pier?!" she exclaimed. The voice 
reiterated details."Ok, I'll let him know. Oh, one more thing. I got 
shanghai'ed into duty because of the alert, would you put me active? 
Thanks."  She hung up the line.

Outside, Eddie Kramer was in a director's chair keeping tabs on the 
bathers and noting where his partner was patrolling the shoreline. 
He saw that Craig Pomeroy was still jogging slowly south in a very routine 
sweep. So far, everybody was playing it safe by not going into the 
rough water. Still, Eddie could remember past alerts where one or 
two people, who thought they were being macho, ended up getting 
stuck within a rip. Maybe this time, things would be different. 
Heartened, Eddie relaxed his vigil a notch. 

Shauni came out to lean on the rail near him, "Hey Eddie. You're 
not going to believe this! HQ just called with a very weird story."

"Oh yeah? Try me. There's not much going on out here." he said. 
He took a swig from his water bottle and set it down next to a 
chair leg. 

Shauni took that as an invitation and sat down in the chair beside him.
"Apparently, HQ saw a Coast Guard clipper out in front of Crystal 
Pier chasing something in the water. At first, they thought the boat 
was going after some hot shot jet skier. A closer look revealed 
that they were actually trying to capture a dolphin with
a noose! Imagine that!! Chasing an animal with a rope and five 
hundred horses of screaming boat engine. How cruel can 
anyone get?"

"Imagine that..." Eddie said as he fell into a paroxysm of chuckles.
Shauni cocked a confused eyebrow, "Eddie, I didn't get the joke here."
Eddie elaborated. "Oh, ha, ha (Choke).. It's Flipper.. Making a run 
for it. Maybe he got tired of all of those slimy sardines his trainers 
were feeding him."

For Shauni's small size, she slugged him a good one. "Eddie, the 
poor thing must've been terrified having those men roaring down 
after it like that... I hope it got away."

Her fiance' was slowly recovering, "What would the Coast Guard 
want with a dolphin?"

Shauni speculated, "Maybe it was coming too close to the 
leisure craft lanes and they were afraid of it colliding with a 
speedboat."

"That's pretty far fetched wouldn't you say?" he commented. 

Shauni's face soured, "Oh, and I suppose you can think up a 
better reason..."

"No, I probably can't. Wait a minute. I know why headquarters 
was watching them so closely so far out of jurisdiction.."

"All right. I'll bite. Why?"

Eddie began to laugh helplessly again. His smile was infectious. 

Shauni grinned. "Spill it funny boy.."

"Well," Eddie howled, "A dolphin taking out a cruiser would certainly 
give us a little business to take care of, now wouldn't it?"

Shauni surprised him by saying nothing. "Finishing the story..." 
she continued distantly, retrieving something off of the floor, 
"..the watchman also said she gave them quite a run for their 
money.."

"Now "it" is a "she"? Why can't Flipper be a "he"?"

Shauni only looked at him. 

Eddie humored her, "Ok, ok, What was Flipper doing during 
the big chase?"

"Oh,..." she said, seemingly only half interested, "She 
was seen weaving in and out of the pier pilings getting 
everybody thoroughly..." She flung something at him. 
"...SOAKED!!!!" 

A flood of water from Eddie's own bottle cascaded down his 
front. Eddie jumped to his feet, "Aggghhhh ! I guess I 
deserved that."

"You sure did. It's a shame that was WARM water." Shauni 
burbled, "The bottle I wore this morning was slightly colder."

Blinded, Eddie coughed and groped for a towel, "And here 
I thought I was getting it for the crack about the dolphin..."

"I never forget a slight, dearest.." Shuani waved the towel 
just out of reach, "Looking for something?"

Eddie groaned and stopped groping around. He wiped his 
streaming face on an arm, "Ha. I can't stop laughing.." he 
said sarcastically, "Can I sit down now, Pool eyes? Thanks.." 
      
He sat.

Nearby, Shauni was laughing so hard, she couldn't breathe.

--  --  --  --  --  --  --  --  --  --  --  --  --  --  --  --  --  --  --  --  --  --  --

He couldn't breathe. Trevor tried to reach the surface of 
the water, and failed. Darkness swept him away.....


On shore, Matt was laughing with a few of Trevor's flockers 
when he looked up, sighting for his partner. Trevor was nowhere 
to be seen. Matt stood up in the chair, scanning with his 
binoculars to the rip. He saw a flailing leg break the surface 
once and sink again. "Jill!!!"

The tall woman shifted away from her water irritably,
"What now?" she snapped.

"It's Trevor! He's in the rip!!"

Jill glassed the area and saw Trevor's hand reaching feebly 
into the air. His head wasn't visible. ::Oh, sh*t. And I got
one of the firestation's medics here to babysit through this.::

She shot an urgent glance at Roy DeSoto sitting in a chair next
to her and said. "Trouble."

"What?" asked Roy.

"It's our local beach pest who thinks he's a lifeguard. Rip's got him.
Go ahead and kick the phone, Roy. Take it off the hook. It'll alert
Sid at HQ to our location." she said rising and peeling off her
jacket.

"Got it. I'll get the gear set up from the responding beach
truck once it arrives. Anything else?" Roy said calmly, reaching
for his radio.

"Not yet.." stressed Jill, as she glassed the curling rip 
intently to get an accurate placement of Trevor's location
as he was pulled out to sea.

Matt Brody, stumbly with panic, started for the water.

"No, Matt! You don't have a can. Call in the details on your radio!" She 
grabbed a rescue can from its hook on the roof corner of her tower 
and hit the breakers, porpoising powerfully out to the dark tongue of 
ripping water. The huge waves made it difficult for her to 
keep sight of Trevor's location, "Hold on!! I'm coming, Trevor!"


From the beach, Craig saw Jill go in from the corner of his 
eye. He unraveled his lifeline and slipped the elastic band 
over his shoulder. He spotted her target victim. 

"Trevor." he said through clenched teeth, "If this is a joke, 
you owe me two plane tickets for Gina and me, for an entire 
Las Vegas weekend."

Throwing his tethered life buoy behind him, he rapidly
swam out after her.

---------------------------------------------------------------------------------
Eddie and Shauni were now aware of what was happening in the 
Yacht Club's waters and called Sid for the rescue boat and a 
beach unit. They began watching all other areas for other trapped 
people. There were none. The two guards sighed in relief. They 
divided their attention between the oblivious crowds and Jill 
and Craig's run, being thoroughly stuck with staying put at
their post.

"Come on, hurry..." Shauni urged. She couldn't even see where 
Trevor's body was hitting the top anymore. The siren from the 
beach truck grew from the north. She could see Mitch coming 
fast and Roy DeSoto, running down Jill's tower ramp, to meet him.

-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
Jill Riley treaded water at the last place she saw Trevor Cole go 
down. The currents were very strong and they were pulling 
her farther and farther out and away from the safety of the beach
head. 

She let them, knowing the launch would pick them all up beyond 
the coral reefs. Jill took a deep breath and dove deep, hoping to 
catch a glimpse of pink skin or striped shorts.

She saw nothing.  Jill resurfaced.

Craig was stationing nearby looking further out along the rip 
streaming out past them. "Jill! Do you see him anywhere?"

She shook her head, "No, Where did he go? Chr*st, " she looked 
at her watch. "...it's been four minutes already."

Craig cursed, knowing that they were now well within the brain 
damage window time frame and he urgently looked out towards 
the kelp reef again.  He saw the launch already scanning its outer 
edge beyond the rough water where the rip's energy was dying. 
"The boat's covering the rip outlet. Standard search pattern. 
Go!" 

And he dove deep to the left.

Jill searched to the right.  A long half minute passed and they 
both saw nothing but murky brown blue. They resurfaced, 
gathered sustaining lungfuls before trying again. And again. 
Unsuccessfully.

Jill said, "Corkscrew. Up rip. From the bottom. We've got to risk 
it before we get too tired to try!"

"Ok.." Craig said. He knew the added risk she referred to was 
one he willingly gave on many rescue attempts. "Let's do it. I'm 
with you.." He gave the corkscrew sign to the launch so that they 
would plan for the lifeguards' safety as well with scuba geared 
backup if something should go wrong. He got his thumbs up 
from Newman in affirmation.

Jill and Craig began their dangerous free dive to the base of the 
rip's belly. Arching their sweeps in ever widening circles, they 
past each other from opposite directions thirty feet below the  
surface and each spiraled upwards in a column back towards 
the sunlight glimmering far above, letting the rip's force sweep 
them along its submerged tongue. Long seconds later, the sinking 
cap of current flattening his hair finally eased. They were almost 
at the terminal outlet!  Trevor most likely was already cast out of 
it ahead of them near the rocky seafloor.

Craig's lungs burned as the silence of the cold water around him 
turned the blood in his head into a shrill ringing in his ears from 
oxygen debt. He would have to come up for air soon. The pain 
in his chest was almost ruling him when a blessedly darker 
shape crossed his eyes.

 Jill's arm struck Trevor's limp body about the same time Craig's 
did. They each grabbed a pale purple arm and bore the Australian 
hastily to the surface.  The long trip up seemed to take an eternity and 
each moment that passed was a living hell for both the senior 
lifeguards as they ascended as fast as they could go. Was Cole 
dead? They saw no sign of motion in Trevor's limbs at all through 
the murk. 

The loud seawind's whine and the blinding white noon day sun 
immediately greeted Pomeroy as he broke the top. He shook 
stinging salt out of his eyes and he hyperventilated desperately 
to end his own frantic air hunger demand. Then he willed strength 
to drag Trevor up next to himself. Jill,  just moments later, pulled 
both their red rescue cans close for their buoyant, supporting help.

His trembling hands fouled on something cool and heavy 
around Trevor's neck as he rolled the man's unconscious face 
out of the water. "What th-?" Craig blurted out in surprise. A 
strange, intricate pearl and kelp necklace adorned his throat, 
not the fishing net or other sort of similar debris he had been 
expecting. ::This thing doesn't float at all.:: "Somebody had to 
have put this here." he coughed. "Might explain why he couldn't 
get out of the rip on his own or lift his head out."

Jill was nonplussed, "Forget it for now. Is he breathing?" she 
said, pulling the odd glimmering jewelry away from the front 
of Trevor's neck and chest. They were heavy. The gold filagree 
chain they were woven into, was too well made for either of 
them to break or even lift free from their victim. Gasping with 
effort, she helped Craig tip Trevor's head back over one of 
their rescue floats so that they would get the clear airway they 
needed. 

Craig listened carefully by Trevor's mouth and was surprised that 
he didn't see any of the deep blue of suffocation on his lips. 
Seconds later, comforting breath's mist warmed his cheek and 
below, he felt good movement in Trevor's chest from the tight 
bearhug he had around him. "Yeah. He's... uh... he seems to 
be fine. He's just out, that's all. Weird.. He's not even aspirated. 
There's no water in his mouth." he said, looking up at Jill 
with utter surprise. "I don't get it. He was under for five minutes! 
He shouldn't be breathing,.. But he is.." He laughed in sheer 
amazement.

"Are you sure?"Jill asked. "It's pretty wavy out here. Maybe the 
bumpy water's tricking you." and she stared hard at Trevor's 
mouth and chest trying to see what Craig could feel. She didn't 
trust the pulse she felt under her fingers to be one that wasn't 
in danger of fading away. 

"See for yourself. He's not even cyanotic." Craig shrugged and 
he waved unnecessarily for the launch's pickup approach.  Jill 
did another kind of check and covered Trevor's mouth with hers 
while sealing off his nose with a pinch. Almost immediately she 
felt a resistance to a test puff of air she blew into his lungs. An 
exhalation from a breath already healthily drawn met her own 
going in, with a conflicting rush of pressure. Jill released Trevor's 
face and looked up, wide eyed in disbelief.

Trevor WAS breathing easily, in no distress at all. 

Craig smiled and trilled the twilight zone theme spookily. "And 
the spectre of death shall have no power over any man 
who has no fear of the briny deep."

Jill set her mouth in a firm line, "Oh, ha ha.. " she said dryly, "Let's 
get Aquaman here ashore. If air exchange isn't his problem, this 
cold water sure will be soon enough."

--  --  --  --  --  --  --  --  --  --  --  --  --  --  --  --  --  --  --  --

Mitch and Matt and Roy met the launch as it ground to a halt on the beach.
Mitch hardly looked at Trevor as he grabbed him under the arms,
"We've got the resuscitation equipment laid out by the truck. If
we hurry, we can--"

"You won't need it. " Craig drawled.

Mitch hesitated., shifting his grip as they carried Trevor over to a
backboard waiting on the sand. Craig sounded more...bored than 
anything else. "What?" Mitch blinked.

"He's breathing regularly like clockwork, Mitch. Only he's out like
a light."

The four of them eased Trevor onto his back and centered him on the
long board. Mitch put an 0/2 mask over his face and secured an 
airway. He felt for a carotid pulse in Trevor's clammy neck even
as Roy DeSoto started setting up a portable suction unit near
his easy reach.  

It was there. Mitch looked up, his face full of question marks. 
"I've got a pulse?"

"We can't understand it, either." Jill commented. 

Roy DeSoto, checking out Trevor's pupils for signs of hypoxia,
sighed. "Maybe he was getting to the top longer than you expected."

Matt hovered close, "How is he? I'm the one who spotted him. 
I got Jill a-and.."

Mitch couldn't believe what his eyes were telling him. Here was a man
who had been caught underwater for over four minutes. And he was
still breathing... He shook his head, "I don't know.. I...he's...breathing
just ...fine," he didn't meet Jill and Craig's triumphant conspiracy of smirks.
"We'll have to wait until the rest of the paramedic gear gets here to be sure 
he's out of danger."

Roy DeSoto saw Trevor was deeply unconscious but in good shape otherwise.
He wasn't dyspneic even slightly and there was a new unnatural bright shade
of red rising into his face and chest. :: Acute sunburn?:: he wondered.
::I wonder if he heat stroked out there.::

Mitch cleared his throat, meeting his lifeguards' eyes in all serious business.
The anger rose up only then, "Just what the h*ll was he doing in the water?!
Matt said that there was no one in the area who was in trouble!"

Jill and Craig fought to keep straight faces.

Craig spoke up, combing some fingers through his hair, "Beats the
h*ll out of me.. Maybe there WAS someone else going down out there. I
don't know. I sent the launch back out on another sweep just to make 
sure."

Matt had noticed the strange necklace around Trevor's neck. He pulled
it free and held it up and his mouth flopped open, "Will ya look at these?!
They must be worth a fortune!" He pointed to an ornately marbled pearl 
that was the central piece, "Wow! This is a black pearl. Look at the size
of it!"

The pearl hardly fit into his hand.

"That bauble isn't our concern right now." Mitch told him, "Trevor is. Now
put that thing in the truck for safe keeping and go get a thermal blanket,
will ya?"

Matt blinked, "Oh, yeah, ..uh, right."  He went.

Mitch's walkie talkie crackled. It was the launch boat, 
##Tower 34, this is Rescue One.##

"Go ahead, Rescue." the lieutenant replied.

##Yeah, this is Kip here. Ahh, ...We've circled the perimeter of the rip,
and...there's..no sign of another victim.## The voice sounded sad and
uncomfortable.

Mitch reassured him, "Kip, tell the guys that there was a good chance
that this one was an error, that the club guard may have been ill, ok?"

Kip was heartened, ##Will do. Returning to base.##

Mitch wrapped up the run, "HQ, our man's ashore. Water sweep's clear.
Recall all responding lifeguard units to base. Tower 34 out."

Craig crossed his arms together, "So there goes that theory. If anyone had
been in trouble, the patrol would've found them by now." He frowned,
"Matt, what did Trevor see out there?"

The teen had finished laying a foil blanket over his partner's still form, 
"A perfect ten." he answered.

"Hmm?" Mitch queried.

Matt clarified, " 'A gorgeous blonde.' " he said. I didn't see anyone 
except Mrs. Fishmeyer. And all of us know that Mrs. Fishmeyer is
far from being blonde, or a perfect ten."

The men laughed. Jill kicked Matt in the butt, "Cute, Matt, Th-that's 
real cute." she said sarcastically.

Matt went on, ignoring Jill, " I figure he got a little too much sun. He 
was acting a little funny."

"He ALWAYS acts a little funny." the rest said as one. Everyone 
exchanged surprised looks at their mutual outbursts echoed out
of everyone else.

Mitch shrugged off the jinxed moment, "Well how do you explain
that strange necklace?"

No one had an easy answer.

Roy nodded for Mitch to move his body out of the way while
he listened closely to Trevor's ribcage for breath sounds with
a stethoscope from the O2 bag. "He's still clear. So far so--"

Under Mitch's hands, Trevor began coughing and struggling wildly.
The 0/2 mask went flying. It took all of them to hold him down.

"Hey, hey. Hey." Craig yelled, "Just take it easy. You're out and 
on the beach."

"NO!" Trevor screamed, "You don't understand! SHE'S out there.
Y-You've got to get her out of there!! *gasp*"

"Stop fighting us a second, Cole." Jill shouted firmly.

Trevor quieted, rolling over onto his side to spit out some salt.
"..oh.." he moaned.

"Easy.." said Roy, helping him get it out.

Everyone else, except Mitch, began talking all at once.

The whole situation was a little too weird, even for the one who
was supposed to have seen it all before. Mitch rubbed his face with
a hand in irritated frustration, "Wait a minute. Wait a minute! Just..
Shhh!" he hissed.

Everybody moused down. Silence reigned except for the waves
and seabird cries. 

"Not you, Trevor! I want you to shed some light on this whole
thing!"

Trevor croaked meekly, "Well...what do you want to know?"
he said, turning back over onto the board.

Mitch let out all of his breath in one long, controlled sigh,
"Trev,...WHO'S out there?"

"A girl. My girl, uh..." he changed track. "A dreamy blonde.
She was out there by the reef buoy.." Trevor answered dutifully.

"Annnd?" Mitch encouraged with irritation.

"A-and she wanted me to go out....."

Mitch smiled, "That's better." Honey dripped from his voice.

"....there." Trevor finished, pointing out to sea.

"WHAT?!"

Jill piped up, "Whoa. Whoa. Mitch, ....let me try." Jill was dubious. 
"Trevor, when we got to you, you were alone. The launch just
confirmed it."

Cole looked at all the faces riging around him one by one, "No
way. No way!" his voice cracked. "Guys, I KNOW what I saw..."

Jill stood, "Yeah? Right! This is probably just another stunt of yours
trying to get me to start paying attention to you. Well, I've got news
for you. It's not going to work. "Going out into that rip was really
stupid, Trevor. You know that?"

"Jill, keep it down." stage whispered Craig. "You're gathering a crowd."

"We ALWAYS gather a crowd, or haven't you noticed?" she tossed
back, acidly sweet.

Mitch was determined to keep things civil, "Uh,.please don't..." he
pleaded. Craig and Jill stopped. Inwardly, Mitch gawked. His two senior 
guards actually listened to him for once. Mitch could've gaped at them 
all day..but there was pressing business at hand. "Trevor,..from the top..."

Trevor dropped his head, with a hollow clunk, back onto the long board,
"I tell you, I saw her. There was something.. a big green fish or--... You
see, ..there was this tail....a-and..."

Craig speculated, "It was pretty choppy out there. It was hard to see
much of anything, let alone fine detail. Perhaps one of your teenaged
devotees was playing a practical joke on you..."

"Good for her.." Jill quipped. "She almost managed to end your 
useless l-"

"JILL!" Mitch roared.

The blonde woman stifled into tolerable rumbles.

By now, Trevor was nearly overcome with shaky exhaustion,
"I tell you.. I-I never saw that girl before in my life!" Tears
threatened to burst free, "She w-was so beautiful.."

"Try and relax now." Roy DeSoto comforted, feeling Trevor's wrist
for an updated pulse quality check. "Help is on the way. You'll
feel much better if you don't try and move around too much."

Trevor grabbed his arm, "So beautiful.. like a siren from Greek
Mythology."

Jill had had enough. She wasn't buying another minute of such
b*llcr*p. "Oh for Pete's sake! You're not really going to BELIEVE
him? Next, he'll probably tell us he saw a frickin' MERMAID!...I'm
going to go wait for the ambulance until it comes. Call me if
you need me."  She stormed off.

Mitch was muttled. He tried a different tact. "Listen, Trevor.. we all
know how sometimes a skipped workout or forgetting to take in fluids
can sometimes cause a cramp. So, why don't you just drop the charade
and adm--"

The distraught man nearly levitated, "I haven't missed a single morning's
workout and I never, EVER go on duty without drinking PLENTY of water 
before, during, and after my working shift. Just ask Matt here!"

Matt Brody smiled in unconvincing support.


::Uh oh.:: Craig thought. ::Mitch absolutely hates conversations like this.::
He decided to sit out the coming ringside rounds by putting away the
0/2 apparatus. Craig was securing the last strap in its housing when
something glittered into the corner of his eye from the sand at the 
waterline. 

Curious, he strode down to the hard pack and scooped up
the object before the next wave scurried it away.

Mitch and Trevor were still at it when he sauntered back over to them.

Roy gamely got a blood pressure off of the downed lifeguard despite all
the noise. He chose to keep out of the conversation wisely.

"All right, already!" the shaken Australian shouted. "Perhaps the sun
WAS a little too warm today. Perhaps I didn't see anything. Perhaps....
I was hallucinating! But I tell you, it was the most realistic hallucination
I've ever seen. I mean, I could HEAR her, smell her perfume.."

Mitch narrowed his eyes, shrugged, and mulled over it, licking dry lips.
Finally he said, "You'd be surprised by what sunstroke can lead you
to believe.."

Trevor was incredulous, "Sunstroke? Sunstr--?!" he broke off, miffed.
"All right, have it your way, guys. I didn't..see..a thing. To Jill, I was 
playing up to her. To you Mitch, I had a cramp brought on by too much
sun! Ok. Fine! I didn't see ANYTHING real at ALL!"

Trevor let his head fall back, ( Matt missed catching it) with a heavy
clunk (Roy winced) and folded his arms crossly.
  
"Then how do you explain this?" a voice interjected. It was Craig.
He tossed the object he had found onto Trevor's chest.

It was an exquisite ivory comb encrusted with what could only be
myriads of emeralds, rubies and more of those eerie black pearls.

The group was stunned. 

Trevor stuttered. "Q-Quit joking with me, guys. This isn't funny."

"Well, neither is this!" Matt said flinging the intricate pearl 
and seaweed shell necklace to Cole. "We found THAT, around
your neck."

Trevor paled at the heavy weight and undeniable reality of the
crusting jewels held in this hands.

Mitch extricated the delicate comb from Trevor's numb fingers.
He gave a low whistle of appreciation. "This has got to be worth
millions..Craig, I think we should give Garner Ellerbe 
and Vince Howard a call."

"Yeah.." he entoned, slinking off to the Venice Beach skate 
path to do the errand.

Trevor laid back down again, "I-I-I don't feel well all of the sudden.
uh...This isn't happening to me." and he started shivering even as
his rich tan washed into transparency.

Mitch pulled the blanket more snugly around Trevor's shoulders,
"Whoops, it's shock closing the gap. Don't fret, mate." he soothed.
"Maybe that girl you saw WAS a mermaid."  He laughed heartily
as he replaced the fallen resuscitator mask back onto Trevor's
face.

Trevor Cole didn't smile. 
For once, Trevor Cole had nothing to say.

Roy DeSoto picked up his radio and notified Sid in dispatch
of the vital signs he had taken and asked for the ETA of
the ambulance coming to the beach tarmack parking lot near
their lifeguard tower. "Baywatch, I've a male, around 24 years of age.
Submersion blackout, now conscious with possible associated 
sun poisoning. Vitals signs are : BP 90/54, Pulse 120. Respirations
are normal at 16 on ten liters of O2. Notify the attendants that
we may need cooling measures."

##Copy, Baywatch 7. Relaying to Malibu General Dispatch.##

--  --  --  --  --  --  --  --  --  --  --  --  --  --  --  --  --  --  --  --  --  --  --  --  --
Photo: Craig Pomeroy swimming.

Photo: Jill Riley running with a rescue can. 

Photo : Jill searching underwater for a victim. 

Photo : Mitch on a close rescue on the sand.

Photo: Roy DeSoto, on the beach. 

Photo: Matt Brody, spotting trouble. 

Photo: Trevor Cole, choking on the beach. 

Photo: A mermaid girl. 

Photo : A lifeguard huddle giving beach care, aerial shot.

 
****************************************************************
From:  "Roxy Dee" <laterrapincabesa@hotmail.com> 
Date:  Sun Feb 13, 2005  5:36 pm 
Subject:  Something Fishy..

 
Hobie was free.  It was Saturday; he didn't have to worry 
about anything at all. No chores, no junior lifeguards,..
nothing except the smooth ribbon of concrete weaving under
his lime green roller blades. And about his two new buddies, who
were an infuriating fifteen feet in front of him, "Chris! Carly!
No fair ducking underneath couple's arms. We race the straight
way, up the middle!" Hobie sucked in the wind between his teeth 
and skated like mad down the asphalt path after his two friends.

Carly laughed, doing a 360 around a bikini clad, walkman 
infested jogger, "What's the matter Hobie? Getting old? Let's go!"

"Yeah!" Chris DeSoto echoed, "Hurry up or we'll miss her!"

"Miss who?" Hobie wheezed as the three of them hit the top
landing of the Fifth Street stairs starting the descent down 
to the beach sand dunes below. They vaulted over the edge....

"AhhhHHHHHH!!!" Their three kid voices sang in terrified treble.

Plastic wheels vibrated down the stone steps, threatening to
rattle the neon helmets off of their heads. Rocketing momentum
carried the trio bladers down and across the sidewalk flats at the
bottom, startling a mob of frisbee players collected along the 
ocean wall, "Hey, look out!" one of them yelled, "What are ya
doing? Trying to kill someone?!"

Hobie sliced up the sharp curve with ease, "That's the idea, mister.."

"Yeahhh!" Carly hooted. 

"You guys are only worth ten points, though." Chris added.

"How come only ten?" a blonde stud asked.

Chris howled, "Because you look like a Neanderthal, man. My
dad's got better lookin legs than you do."

"Why you--!!"

The brown-headed boy easily dodged a low flying beer can.

Hobie smirked. He was pulling ahead, "Come on you slackers! Get
the lead out!!"

The seabirds were getting louder by the second now. Hobie looked
down the path in eager anticipation. Deadman's Curve lay ahead
and he knew he was going too fast... He couldn't help it, a blood
curdling scream got out, "OhhhHHH  SHHIIIII---------!"

Fortunately, his skates banked the sharp left through no volition
of their own. Hobie felt his right skate clip the leaves off an
overgrown border hedge inches away from the retaining wall's steep
drop off. He opened his eyes and was amazed to find that he was 
still alive. Buoyed, Hobie surged ahead. "Ha!" he thought, "Now I'll
show them. It's time for the grand finale."

A second flight of stairs neared. Hobie swiveled, backwards,
"Top this, dudes!" he challenged.

He was airborne.

Chris and Carly gaped as their friend spun once, high in 
the air. Hobie landed neatly at the bottom. Still grinning, the blonde
boy smiled at his own tenacity. He saw that his two pals had chickened
out at the last minute, buzzing the stairs nose forward. Hobie
Buchannon crowed, "Scud wads! I'm champion of the world!"

Hobie turned ahead, pleased with his success, when the sidewalk 
ran out. 

He had a brief impression of tan sand and blue sky. Twice. Then
he hit like a ballistic brick. A huge plume of granite crystals sprayed
high into the air. And down in a powdered arch of golden color..

Two teenagers sat up from their towels with a cry, their piled backs
festooned in earthen khaki sparkles.

"Bummer, man." Carly called from the safety of the landing. 

Chris squeaked in mirth, unable to talk. 

Hobie was further humiliated when two highschool aged girls rushed 
up to him, "Oh!" they fluttered, "Are you ok, little boy?"

Hobie sat up, spitting out sand, "Yeah," he said holding up his detached
red helmet, "Saved by five pounds of fiberglass." Hobie faked a moan. The
girls huddled in closer. "Do me a favor, huh? Would ya kiss my owie?" he
pointed to a scraped knee.  

His would be rescuers straightened, "We're not that stupid. Don't 
press your luck, kid. Why don't you flag down that more attractive 
lifeguard over there?" They jogged off. 

Hobie looked toward the nearest tower with brightening eyes, "Hey, yeah,
I never thought of that ang--"

A huge Arnold Swartzenegger type was assessing Hobie's status 
through his binoculars. Hobie shot to his feet and waved his healthiest
hand vigorously. The lifeguard turned away.

Carly and Chris died on the sand, 
"Crashed and burned!"
"Strung and hung!"
"Shut up!" Hobie scowled.
"Ooo, we're quaking." Chris teased.
Carly looked up from the skate she was unlacing, "Are you two snagwads
finished yet? Look, uh, Hobie, when you're done feeling sorry for
yourself, she's right over there."

Hobie chucked off his last skate, "Where?"

"Over by the jetty, man. You blind?"  

Carly was already light years ahead of the two of them, stepping
over the rocks at the foot of the jetty. She began gesticulately wildly,
"There she is! Come on you guys!!"

Hobie stood, but he didn't move.

"What's the matter, Hobe?" Chris asked.

"I-I can't go out there.."

"Why not?"

"It's too dangerous."

"Awww, who says?"

"My dad does. He says the rocks are loose out there. You could
fall in."

"Oh," Chris huffed, an irate hand on a hip, "And for that we're
just supposed to forget the whole thing? Not me. Suit yourself."
The irish boy lugged his skates onto a shoulder and took off for
the jetty.

Hobie fidgetted. If he was spotted on the jetty by the lifeguard,
his dad would probably find out about it. Most likely, he'd be
grounded for a whole month! But he really wanted to know who
"she" was....

Gingerly, Hobie looked up and down the beach. He saw that his
lifeguard sentinel had gone into the water for a workout. And
there were no beach patrol trucks in sight... Maybe if he was only
out there for a minute.. then immediately back again..

Hobie made up his mind, and ran after his friends.

---------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
Garner was eating lunch. A huge chili dog and onions, insisted on
spilling all over his shoes. He groaned, trying in vain to stuff two
thirs of it into his mouth as he walked the beach. A seabird dove
low at his face."Akk! Get away!" Garner only succeeded in losing 
even more cheese onto his shirt, "Ah, wonderful. Just.."

He heard the sound of truck tires behind him. He turned. It
was Craig Pomeroy on pier patrol. With him was Vince Howard.
The slender lifeguard grinned in recognition. "Hi, Garner. How's 
it hangin'?" His eyes flickered to the mess running down the 
policeman's shirt. 

"Very funny. Did you see that? I nearly lost an eye to one of
those d*mned seagulls!"

Craig shrugged, "Well, you are eating on their beach.. and you
do look well fed and kinda slow."

Garner stopped chewing. "What does that supposed to mean?"

"Good pickings. You were easy to steal from."

Vince Howard stifled a chuckle. "A paramedic friend of mine
considers them just as foul feathered as you do."

"Glad somebody shares the sentiment. They're an absolute menace!
They should trade places with the Passenger Pigeons, man,
and become extinct!"



A commotion drew away their attention. They heard thrashing
inside some bushes from behind a retaining wall in one of the
beach front backyards. It was followed by furious watch dog 
growls and sounds of struggle. There was a hollow thud, and
suddenly, the frantic barking ending in a keening whine and 
silence. 

Garner instinctively ducked behind Craig's truck. He opened 
the passenger side door, keeping low, "Something definitely
odd's going on over there."

Vince drew out his gun and set it muzzle forward onto
the dash board, leaving the safety on. "Let's get under some cover."

Craig nodded, waiting for Garner to get inside of the cab. Then
he drove the yellow truck into the shadows beneath some low
fronded palm trees a short distance away from the beseiged house. 

They all froze as a wooden slated crate dropped right in from of 
the truck's bumper. Two black trousered legs inched down the wall 
and a unmasked robber dropped onto the beach sand. The figure's 
eyes were so intent on the beach crowds that he never noticed the
beach truck behind him. Hands picked up the crate and the
prowler started creeping down the fence line. Garner motioned
Craig to sink down into his seat. Then he too, drew out his gun. 
"Freeze, mister! Police!"

The intruder whirled and saw Garner shielded behind one truck
door, Vince behind he other, and the wink of two badges. 

He ran out into the bright sunlight.

Garner flew out of the truck, "He's unarmed! Call it in!" he shouted
after putting his gun away. Ellerbee took off after him, motoring
powerfully. "Halt! Or I'll shoot!" he said anyway. Vince followed
him close on his heels, holstering his weapon as well.

The robber ignored him, gaining speed in spite of having the heavy
crate in his arms.

"Aww, man." This was just what Garner hated. An unknown assailant
loose in crowds of innocent people. He forced himself to go faster.

"What's the problem?!" Vince shouted to him as they ran side by
side together in chasing pursuit.

"A far too common tactic. He's trying to ditch us in the crowd!"

Craig saw them chase onto the sand along the water. He grabbed 
the C.B mic, "Baywatch! This is Pomeroy! I'm just shy of the seventh
street cul de saac. Garner and Vince are in pursuit of a man in a black 
jump suit. It looks like a robbery in progress. A pet dog was probably 
killed. Roll police jeeps my way on the double! The suspect's heading 
north."

"10-4, Craig, " Sid answered, "They're on the way."

Craig spun tires as he went after them. He didn't know what to
do except be a visual reference for the coming police units.
He followed the chase a short distance away, clearing the beach
with his lights and siren. Beach flockers fled to either side of the 
activity with startled cries. Garner felt more confident with each 
passing second. So far, the robber either had no other weapon, or
he wasn't planning on using it. And the man didn't appear to be in
the greatest of physical shape either.

The intruder stumbled and grabbed a child. He hurled him into Garner
with one arm, holding tightly to the crate with the other. Garner caught
the screaming little one and absorbed the impact by rolling with him
onto the sand. He sat up cradling the boy's head, checking him over,
"You're ok, son." Garner ferociously waved Craig on ahead to intercept
the burglar. "He's ok. He's ok! Craig! Vince! Go on!"

When Craig saw the tiny boy go down, something inside of him 
snapped. "..No.." The he saw Garner wave that the child was
uninjured and to stay on the man. 

He did so, literally. He cranked the sirens to full volume and
sped inches away from the man's heels...

Garner was left behind.
 
Vince jumped onto the landing of the lifeguard truck, hanging on
by the mirror so Craig could get him closer. "Get me closer!
I'll try to tackle him!"


Up ahead, breathing hard, the running crook saw the red flashing 
lights up the beach from the other responding police units coming 
toward him from the north.

He swerved away from the ocean, making for the pedestrian tunnel.

"Oh, no you don't!" Craig cut him off and the robber's hip bounced 
glancingly off the truck's fender.

It was time to end this chase, once and for all...

"Hang on Vince, I'm about to try something.." he warned
the Los Angeles County cop, clinging like a leech, to 
his passenger door.

----------------------------------------------------------------------------------
Hobie negotiated the last of the salty stones at the end
of the jetty. 

"There she is!" Carly called in triumph.

Hobie couldn't believe his eyes.

A small, gray dolphin frolicked in the water. Her
body was fully covered with steel blue freckles from
nose to tail and a light pink flushed her belly. She
was quite near the humans, chuckling merrily.

"Close your mouth, Hobe, or you'll gather fruit flies." 
Chris quipped.

"Huh? I wonder if she's tame."

"Of course she is, Dumbo. Why else would a dolphin
like to follow people?" Carly smiled. "When we left
her this morning, she hung around by us all the way
back to the beach."

"She followed you?"

"Sure. Watch!"

Carly and Chris started down by the water's edge to
a ledge traversing the length of the manmade jetty. It's
width was very narrow.

"Be careful you guys." Hobie cautioned, as a wave sprayed
them all in a cloudy mist.

"We will." Carly said, "But you're going to have to come
with us or she won't go along."

Reluctantly, Hobie jumped down to the ledge, clinging to the
back wall like glue. The waves made him dizzy.
"Come on!!" His friends yelled over the sea's crashing din.
Hobie went. Deep inside, he was thrilling at the nearness of
the cavorting animal. She seemed to stick closest to him, 
chattering to herself all the while.

They made it to the pathway at the foot of the jetty near
the concession stands in three minutes.

"Whew," Carly sighed, "I'm thirsty. Let's go get something
to drink."

"Yeah!" Chris cheered.

Hobie stopped them with a hand, "Wait a minute." he
beamed. "I've got a great idea!"

"What?" came two echoes.

"Let's go get some fish to feed Suzy."

"Why did you name her that?" Chris asked.

"Because I liked it. Well, how about it?"

His two buddies agreed, "Let's do it."

They ran around the concession stand to the bait shop
behind it. The three children had barely enough money to buy
fifty small mackerels in a styrofoam bucket.

"Must be a good day for fishing, eh, kids?" the baitman
laughed, "Gonna catch a big one for sure?"

"We already have." Chris said seriously.

"Oh, yeah? How big?"

All three of them stretchd out their arms as wide as
they could reach. "Bigger than THIS!" the blonde haired
Carly claimed, as they ran away excitedly.

"Yeah, sure." the fat man mumbled as he turned back to
his work, "Everybody's a storyteller these days."


Hobie and his friends had a wonderful time feeding Suzy.
They were so absorbed in their task, that they failed to
notice a shadowy figure sheltering under the concession 
stand eaves. The figure spoke. "She's being a pig, guys, 
but I'd go easy on the mackerel. She might get a sore 
stomach if she overeats."

The children whirled about. The dolphin started a happy
chorus and began leaping in huge archs over and over 
again in a noisy spectacle. Hobie couldn't figure that out.
Suzy wasn't acting that way before the woman came,
"Boy, she really seems to know you.." he exclaimed.

The seated woman smiled and began braiding her long
blonde hair, "Coincidence, I'm sure. See the ripples next
to the sea wall? The dolphin's spotted a school of scalpin
there. That's why she's excited."

Carly and Chris were a shy act and stayed by the dolphin.
Hobie went nearer to the skinny lady. Only then did Hobie
see that she was confined to a wheelchair. He didn't ask
about it. "What's your name? I'm Hobie Buchannon."

"That's a solid sounding name. Glad to meet you, Hobie.
I'm Cory Davison."

"Hi. The two rude ones over there are Carly and
Chris."

"I know. Carly and I are very acquainted with each other."

Hobie went on eagerly, not really hearing what Cory had 
just said. "They're the ones who found Suzy..."

The small woman frowned, "Su- Suzy?"

"Yeah, the dolphin. I named her." Hobie clarified.

"That's not her name." Cory said softly.

Hobie didn't quite catch what she said, "Pardon me?"

"Oh, nothing."

Hobie smiled politely and went back to his friends. Chris
poked him in the ribs with a discreet elbow, "She's
a little on the weird side, wouldn't you say?"

"Her?!" Hobie asked, jerking his head over to Cory.

Chris nodded. 

"Nah,..she's just a little preoccupied, that's all." said
Hobie. "Something's made her very very sad, I think."

---------------------------------------------------------------------- 

Photos: None.

*************************************************************
From:  Sam Iam <lafddispatcher@y...> 
Date:  Wed Feb 16, 2005  11:00 am 
Subject:  A Story To Tell..
 

Craig decided to get the man into his element. He pulled hard 
on the beach truck's wheel to the left, forcing the fugitive to
either head for the water or get run over by two tons of Chevy
truck.

A high wave tripped the robber, making him drop his precious
load. Pounds of jewels and museum artifacts poured out onto
the sand and kelp piles.

Craig's eyebrows rose, "Just look at that, will you?" he mumbled
to Vince as dozens of beachgoers scooped up the glittering booty
in greedy handfuls.

Two black and whites burst into the circle of looters,
"Don't move an inch, people!"

The arrival of the police jeeps froze everyone in their tracks.

The treasure hit the sand musically as people abandoned their
finds.

Vince and Craig and a third police unit stayed on the thief's trail,
keeping track of the man's whereabouts even through the ensuing
hubbub of the excited crowds.

Craig timed the waves and drove the truck as far onto the hard
pack as he dared.

Quite suddenly, the man dove directly into the sea, heading out.

"Got you!" Craig said as he screeched to a halt, flicking off the siren.

He stepped out of the truck but kept the rover's lights flashing 
brightly for Baywatch backup to see from the tower.

Garner caught up with them, puffing badly, "He's getting away..."

Craig just smiled. "Not in those clothes he isn't." he sighed in
effected boredom, "Shall I go get him?" he asked, putting on the 
elastic band of his rescue can, "You're too tired to go for a swim."

"Ha. Ha. Just be careful. He may have a knife or something."
Garner said.

Vince, just stood there, laughing. "I get it. He's as good as sunk.
Literally."

"You guessed it." said Craig. "I'll be right back."

Pomeroy went in, neatly diving under the huge waves. The man
in black, on the other hand, was taking the full force of each wave
into his face.  The man sputtered, feeling the pull of his weighted 
clothing , trying to bear him down.

Craig noticed his troubles. "Hey mister!" he shouted across the
twenty feet separating them. "You're gonna haveta kick off your
boots and pants soon, or you're not gonna make it."

The robber coughed, "I'm doing * choke* fine.. Just stay away, ok?"

"Look, uh, sir, either you can come back to the beach now or I'll
get you after you sink in a few minutes."

"Just shut up, lifeboy. I'm trying to concentrate here."

Craig shrugged amicably, "Suit yourself.." He waited patiently, floating
easily on his can.

The exhausted robber took in a mouthful of seawater and nearly lost
his fight to remain at the surface.

Craig hovered near, pushing his float towards the man, "I think you
oughta take this now. You get any more water into your lungs, and
you'll end up getting pneumonia for sure."

"I said shut up!" He lunged for Craig, who neatly pinned him in 
a shoulder tow grip. The robber was effectively immobilized.
All the fight went out of the man and he went limp, out cold, from
emotional stress.

Craig kept the man's head out of the water as he swam him to
shore, "Why do you thief guys always do this the hard way? You can't
win." He tightened his grip, "Hang on, we're almost there." he said
out of pity into the man's ear.

On the beach, a second lifeguard team had seen Craig begin his
game of wait and fetch and was now set with a warm blanket for
the comatose crook. 

Johnny Gage was with them, standing over medical gear. 

Craig couldn't help but snicker at his leisurely accomplishment. 
He would be sure to not let Garner hear the end of it any time soon.
The lifeguard looked down and felt a surge of compassion for
his victim. "I wonder what drove you to steal that stuff?"

On the hot sands, Garner Ellerbe wasn't so nuturing, he just itched to 
slap on a pair of solid steel handcuffs around his quarry's wrists. "Did 
ya have ta hurt him at all?" he asked Craig, pausing before he even 
touched the robber's limp hands.

"Nah, he fainted before any blows were needed." Craig answered.
"Go ahead and restrain him."

"Simple syncope?" Johnny Gage asked Craig, waiting for the cops with him
to search the man for hidden weapons or more jewels from the museum
crate.

"Most likely. His pulse's real regular. But he might be a bit bubbly. He 
was breathing in water more than he was hurtling threats. I'd say a 
mouthful or two got in."

On cue, the man woke up, rolled over, and promptly puked on the sand.

Gage scrambled backwards a few feet and moved to the man's other
side to take a blood pressure. He grinned, "Sir, never ever swim on a full 
stomach. It'll always come back and bite ya. Didn't your mother ever tell you 
that?" His next question to the groaning crook was straight to the point, "How
are ya doing?"

"Just peachy.. thanks. I want my lawyer. Now!" he gagged.

"You'll get one, mister, have no doubt of that. Can you tell us
your name?" asked Vince.

The robber buried his cheek in the dry sand, trying to rub some
of the wet sand off his mouth and lips. "I've a right to remain 
silent.. I've a...*cough* right to an attorney. Anything I say can
and will be used against me in a--"

"..court of law. Yeah, yeah. Ok, Johnny, you can go ahead with
that oxygen.." said Vince. "I'll get his I.D. from the wallet they
just found in the yard next to the home owner's.. 
*he winked at the others*..dead dog." he said listening to his radio.

"That mutt's not dead!" came the robber's muffled angry reply. "I 
only tranquilized him with a dart gun." he spat through his oxygen
mask.

Vince crouched down near the man's head. "Thanks for the confession, 
bud. Let's see, evading arrest, assault of a minor, and now ARMED 
robbery added as an upgrade." he said, writing into his report book 
with a delighted flourish. "Keep it coming, mac. Honesty's real good 
for the soul."

The robber clammed up, gritting his teeth hard for flapping his
gums too much.

Vince went on, "Craig, they doubly tied up the dog. According to
a neighbor, he's a watch dog tracker, who might decide to come 
after a few pieces of this guy as pay back."

"That's fair enough justice in my book. Turn him loose!" Garner said sharply,
smiling hard. Then he guffawed loud and long to beat the band.
"I recognized the crate, boys. I ran by it where it was sitting on the hood
of a police jeep, while getting that kid back to his mother. It's from the 
La Jolla Museum's Atlantis exhibit. Those artifacts were on our photo 
briefing board at HQ as merchandise to watch out for on the black market 
and in Venice Beach pawn shops."

"No kidding. Anything missing?" Vince asked him.

"Don't know yet. My boys are going over the sand with metal
detectors right now. We'll check that house out later, too,
for any more stolen items." Garner replied.

Gage cared for the man until the next set of paramedics
on the arriving street ambulance took over. "Simple faint. Mild
seawater ingestion. Elevated BP. Negative on cardiac symptoms.
The O2's precautionary for the syncope.." he reported.

Then he stepped back and the robber was carted off.

After the rig's sirens had died away, he turned to Garner, smiling, 
"Any bet on your lunch still being intact on top of that picnic table? 
I saw the birds harrassing you from the watch tower."

"You fellas were watching me?" grumbled Garner, trying to be happy.

"What else were we supposed to do? We're firemen trying
to learn about your trade. Of course we were watching you, we're
supposed to be acting like lifeguards, remember?"

Garner wasn't pleased that anyone saw the reason why his chili 
spilled down the front of his shirt so he said nothing, concentrating
instead on getting the sand out of his shoes, socks and shorts
by brushing his hands over them and much body shaking.

Craig crossed his arms over his chest and just waited for
the outcome of the current conversation. This was deep into Garner 
pet peeve territory. ::If Jill Riley were here, she'd think this
was funny as h*ll.::

The Los Angeles County firefighter paramedic stopped needling
Garner immediately and surprisingly turned politely accommodating.
"Tell you what. Let Vince and I buy you a replacement lunch.
We've learned more about beach policing today than we're ever
gonna learn at our convention. Maybe you and Craig here can
share a few more beach tricks of the trade. Like that herding stunt 
both of you used to end the chase. Chet Kelly was literally rolling 
on the floor because he was laughing so hard at the sheer simplicity 
of it." Johnny smiled. "You should've heard him. The lifeguards thought
he was having a down and out coronary." he chuckled.

Craig Pomeroy blinked in utter astonishment when Garner Ellerbe 
took them up on the offer, chattering animatedly. "O.k. Done. 
Who's this Chet Kelly fellow?"

"Uhh, you'll like him. Needles worse than I do and he's a master
prankster. And he really looks up to authority figures. Cap makes
him cower all the time." Johnny related. "I tell you, he'll be the 
perfect listening audience for all your stories, Sergeant Ellerbe."

----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Photos: None.

 
***************************************************************************
From:  "Cory Anda" <andacory@h...> 
Date:  Wed Feb 16, 2005  12:30 pm 
Subject:  Girl Talk and Guy Talk
 
It was busy in the breakroom. Two radios were going at the
same time. Most of the male lifeguards were clustered around
the coffee machine, listening to the Oakland A's game and they
were getting louder by the second. 

Shauni McLane turned up the volume on her own radio. It was
a news update on the status of the escaped dolphin last seen
around Crystal Pier.
 
##...........Coast Guard officials lost the marine mammal when the
animal disappeared into a coral cove too shallow for the 
capturing clipper vessel to continue following. ##

"Yeyy! She got away!" Shauni celebrated.

Jill looked up from her Smithsonian magazine, "Hmm?"

"The released dolphin some crazy guys let go from the Naval
Institute. It's still free.."

"Oh, oh. oh. ok." Jill sniffed, figuring it out. "It's a shame 
it won't live for long."

"Won't live f-- Jill, what do you mean?" Shauni asked.

Jill chewed on her reading glasses, "Think about it. All this
creature has known is the confines of an eighty by three
hundred foot tank. There, it knew no sharks, or fishing nets,
or even the reality of a large, open area. The sheer size of the
sea has got to be overwhelming to the poor thing. Yeah, I'd
say the odds are stacked against him."

"Her." Shauni corrected, clearly becoming distraught at her
friend's speculations.

"Whatever. Shauni, it sounds like this is really getting to you.
Maybe you should stop listening to all the new flashes until 
things settle down."

Shauni sat a little straighter in her chair, "I don't think I'm over
reacting. It's just that dolphins are ...so....cute.."

Jill stifled the broad smile threatening to surface, "Uh, huh. And..
you want to know what uses the Navy might have planned for her
in case she ends up back at the Institute?"

"Well, that thought did cross my mind." Shauni admitted.
 
Jill relaxed into her seat, once again amazed at people's
curiosity over dolphins. 

---------------

As a graduate student, Jill Riley had once been as attracted to them. 
In fact, Jill had spent four years on an exploration vessel traveling 
the world, filming the friendly animals.

And she had past up one or two marriage proposals because of her
rich devotion to her work. Jill liked to think that those failed 
relationships hadn't effected her; she was wrong. Eventually, Jill
linked up with a biology professor at the University of San Diego
as a teaching assistant. 

One day, Dr. Croft and she were in his office, grading papers, when
he suddenly collapsed from a massive heart attack. Jill was horrified.
She didn't know what to do for him. She had never taken a first aid class
in her life. It took only two minutes for CPR trained people to arrive but
nothing seemed to help. Dr. Croft was pronounced dead at the hospital.

Jill never forgot that day. She felt herself entirely at fault. She couldn't
stop thinking that somehow, her own ineptness could have possibly
contributed to her mentor's early death.

She abandoned her job at the college and enrolled herself into every
first aid class she could find, vowing never to be caught unprepared in 
such a situation ever again. Her new schooling took her into the budding
paramedical field with Karen, the first female paramedic in Los Angeles,
and then onto beach lifeguarding.

That had been seven years ago; but she never forgot her time with
the dolphins. They were always going to be a part of her, like Professor
Croft had once been.

-------------------------------------

Jill Riley smiled at her young friend, "Uses for dolphins,.. oh, let me see now."
She met Shauni's gaze with a reluctant look, "What do you want first? The
good news or the bad news?"

"Give it to me straight, " Shauni breathed, "I can't stand it."

"Well, ... the navy has been known to...strap bombs on their backs..and--"

Shauni sucked in her breath, "Ooo, they don't!" she fervently wished.
 
Jill bit her lip, nodding. "Yeah, they do. I once saw some photographs
from Pig's Bay, Cuba, where a dolphin took out a passenger ferry
liner accidently instead of his target dummy boat. I mean, there was
absolutely nothing lef--" she broke off. "I'm sorry, you didn't want to
hear that." Jill frowned.

Shauni held up her hands in supplication. "No, no. It's all right.
I asked for it." She took a huge gulp of her coffee and grimaced;
it was cold.

Jill was at a loss for words. She opted to remain silent. 

Shauni frowned in a sudden thought, "How can our government 
let this stuff go on? It IS still going on, right?" she answered her
own question, "It HAS to be or why else would the Institute be so
secretive and their training programs for dolphins.. There's got
to be a reason why those activists have been causing trouble over
there for so long... Man, there's got to be an easier way than using
animals for military research and development."

Eddie Kramer came walking by with a bag of popcorn. He had overheard
part of their conversation. He held out the rare snack. "Found a packet
that no one else knew about.. Want some?"

Jill dug in eagerly. Eddie noticed Shauni's unusual lack of interest
in the buttered morsels, "Shauni?"

She didn't hear him, eyes growing full and moist.

Jill spoke up around a crumbly mouthful. "She's worried about
the dolphin."

"Oh, " Eddie nodded. He turned to his fiancee and hugged her
from behind, waving the steaming bag under her trembling chin.
"MMm, don't these look good?" he snatched up a few and held 
them to her mouth, "Come on, eat me." he said in a tiny cartoon
voice, pleading in baby talk, "Eat me, Shauni, plleassse..."

Shauni's face showed a whisper of a grin. 

"There you go, " Eddie said in a normal tone, "Got one out of you
that time. I love your smiles. I never get sick of them. Come on,
quit worrying about poor ol' Flipper. She'll soon be safe at home."

"At home just in time to be a living bomb!" Shauni countered.
 
Eddie scratched his head in confusion, his attention was already
half back onto the Oakland game, "Shauni, don't make such a big
deal out of all this. Some animals.. are... are just meant to serve man."

Shauni scoffed, eyes blazing. "As pieces of meat to torture
and maim all for the sake of science?"

Eddie covered his mouth in horror. ::Oh, boy.:: he thought. ::Now, I 
really opened up a can of worms.:: He tried to reiterate, "I didn't
mean that. I-I- I'm just as opposed to rabbits and mice being used
to test new make up products as ..as..as you are." He smiled at
his own reasoning ability, "And I'm sure that there are plenty of
roles that dolphins fill that are good, too. Am I right, Jill?"

The blonde woman looked up from a volley ball game on TV, "Hmm?
Oh, yeah, uh, plenty. The Navy had a dolphin in the sixties, named Tuffy,
who was actually a deep sea "lifeguard" of sorts. He used to carry a rescue
line to divers who became lost in the murk around a sea station and showed
them the way back to Sea Lab in just a few minutes. Tuffy was creditted 
for saving twelve lives."

Shauni brightened measurably. "Really?" she sniffed.

Jill nodded vigorously. "Absolutely."

"Maybe that's what our dolphin does and maybe that's why they
want her back so badly. Cause she's so valuable."

"Could be. Could be." Jill touted, happy that Shauni was perking
up.

Shaui began eating what was left of Eddie's popcorn. She
got a far away look in her eyes. "Yeah, that's what she does.
She saves lives. Just like me.."

Sitting behind her, Eddie got a little too enthusiastic over the game.
"Way to go, team! What a way to blow them to smithereens!!"

Shauni's smile paled into a shocked look and she erupted into
tearful, sobbing keens.

Jill slugged Eddie with her magazine, "Way to go Mr. Psychology,
now you've REALLY cheered her up a whole bunch!"

Eddie regarded his co-workers with a genuine dismay and he
promptly enveloped Shauni in a deep hug, stroking her hair and
murmuring reassurances. "What?! What did I say now?
Shh, baby. Easy. Don't cry. You know I hate it whenever you do
that."

"It's the old social foot in the mouth again, Shauni, so give him
some slack. Guys are completely clueless to that genetic blunder
because a little of their gray matter was sacrificed solely for
the inclusion of more muscles. They know not what they do."
Jill sighed, in whispered confidentiality to her young rookie 
lifeguard.

Shauni laughed and nodded, reaching for a kleenix.

-------------------------------------------------------------------------

Photos: None.
 
***************************************************************
From:  "Clairissa Fox" <canaryyello01@yahoo.co.uk>   
Date: Thu, 17 Feb 2005 07:53:06 +0000 (GMT) 
Subject: [EmergencyTheaterLive] The Shirt Trick... 


Shauni had made it back to Tower 34 just in the nick of time.
It was three o'clock on the nose. Eddie had gone on patrol and
had left her alone for a short time. She glassed the water with a 
practiced sweep. The rip current had died to harmless swirls. 

The alert, was over. It was easy to relax. Even the swimmers sensed
the sea had become calmer, for they laughed and splashed louder
than ever among the tide's incoming waves. Shauni scanned for
trouble spots and looked to the slate stone jetty in a routine check.

She delighted in what she saw. The errant dolphin was there
spouting streams onto three kids at the jetty's foot. A woman in
a wheelchair was with them but she remained well away from the 
edge of the steep rock piles. Shauni noticed that one of the boys
was Mitch Buchannon's son, who wasn't supposed to be out by
that part of the beach. Shauni shrugged, she didn't know why
Hobie wasn't allowed to hand around the jetty neighborhood.
He was playing it safe enough by staying on the cement causeway.

The blonde lifeguard put on her sunglasses and refocused her
attention back to the shallows in front of her tower. She made a
mental note to ask Hobie how much fun it was to play with and
feed a tamed dolphin. She couldn't help but feel a little envious.
::Oh, well.:: she thought. ::There'll be time for that later.::

---------------------------------------------------------------------------------
They had run out of fish from their third bucket. Hobie felt that
Cory had enjoyed feeding the dolphin more than the rest of them
put together. Suzy acted differently towards her. Between mackerels,
she always returned to a certain spot, just touching Cory's outstretched
hand with her head, before racing off again after a tossed fish.

It made him feel a little jealous. Chris and Carly had already become bored
and had left for Baywatch HQ. He considered doing the same thing.

"Wait a minute. Want to see something neat?" Cory asked him.

"Yeah, sure."

Cory looked around in her hand bag, not finding something,
"I wanted to show you a trick that all dolphins can do with a little
encouragement. I need something to wrap up one of these rocks
down here by my feet."

"You mean this rock?" Hobie asked as he hefted a grapefruit sized
chunk of stone.

"Umm. Hmm. " she accepted the boulder. Her grip was surprisingly
strong, "Yep. Now I need a piece of cloth to put this in. Find me a 
scrap, and I'll show you something that'll knock your socks off."

Unceremoniously, Hobie peeled off his shirt and presented it to 
his new friend.

Cory blinked, "I can't use this. It's going to get wet."

"That's ok, I can always dry it when I skate back home
again for dinner." 

"All right." The crippled woman bound the stone within Hobie's red
striped shirt. When she was through, she tossed the stone into the 
water beside the dolphin. "Now," she breathed. "Raise an arm over 
your head and pretend that you're throwing a baseball. Then tell
Suzie to fetch the toy. She'll do it."

Hobie was skeptical. He couldn't even believe he handed over
his favorite shirt. He figured it was gone for good, so he had
nothing further to lose by humoring her and doing what she asked,
"Fetch, Suzie! Fetch the toy!" He swung an arm out over the water.

Unseen, Cory put something to her mouth and blew. 

The dolphin moved.
And dove deep, disappearing for several seconds. 

The sodden mass flipped out to land by Hobie's feet. The dolphin 
chattered happily.

"Wow! How did she do that?" Hobie said, retrieving his soaking shirt.

"Dolphins are really intelligent animals. Rather like a family dog."
Cory replied.

"But dogs have to be TRAINED to do tricks." Hobie insisted.

"You've forgotten. Koko is tame."

Hobie spent a minute wringing out his shirt. "I know SHE is, but
..what I want to know is h--?"

A scuffle of thongs on pavement broke his concentration. It
was Eddie Kramer, "I see you found the little daredevil everybody's
been looking for. She gave the Coast Guard boys quite a chase."

Hobie looked up and grinned, "Yeah.. Cory here says th--"

"Who?"

Hobie looked around. Cory Davison was gone.
"She was here a minute ago."

Eddie fixed Hobie with an all business glower,
"Uh, huh, and your shirt just happened to blow into the water
way over here by the jetty on its own while you were just roller
blading." 

"Well, ..ah,...no."

"I'm waiting, then how did it get wet?"

"The dolphin fetched it for me. She's real smart! Er,.. That
woman, er, who's gone, ..wrapped my shirt up around a stone
and.."

Eddie was unmoved, "Sounds like a line to me..."

"No, really! It's the truth!"

"Hobie..." he warned.

Hobie shut up.

"I thought you were supposed to be a junior lifeguard. You know
the dangers out here by the jetty better than anybody. Your
dad isn't going to like this."

The remorseful boy looked at his stocking feet. "So you're
going to tell him?"

"Maybe," Eddie said, hefting his can onto a shoulder, "Maybe not."

Hobie looked up, a desperate hope in his eyes, "You mean?"

Eddie interrupted him, "Provided that you are out of here in five
seconds. I'm counting.. one,.....two...."

Hobie scooped up his skates and made tracks, "I'm gone. Bye, Eddie."
The boy disappeared instantly.

Eddie shook his head ruefully, "Kids today; they'll do anything."
He turned toward the sea and was greeted by a treble warble. He
crouched down, "Hey ya, girl. Are you going to cause trouble for me?"

The dolphin chirped companionably.

Eddie smiled. "Yeah, well, I think I'll stick around for a little while."

His instincts were right on. It wasn't too long before he was nearly
run over by a cluster of excited children, cheering over their 
discovery of the famous dolphin from the new flashes.
"Hey, hey, hey. Be careful, " Eddie warned, "Those rocks are
slippery." He looked to the hyperactive creature by his feet.
Then he laughed, "It looks like you're gonna be a pied piper to 
every kid in the neighborhood." 

The marine mammal leaped happily.

"Ok, guess I can stick around and make sure you all stay safe."
Eddie retreated to an open space to keep an eye on things.

------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Photos:  None.

************************************************************************
From:  Jeremy H <skydivingstreaker@y...> 
Date:  Thu Feb 17, 2005  2:44 am 
Subject:  The Dawn Spell

Trevor awoke the next morning in a cold sweat. All night he
had dreamed of swirling water and of the beautiful woman in the surf.
He turned to the clock on his nightstand and found that he had only slept
three hours. He laid back down again..

Sleep came next to impossible. Finally, he got up and threw on a flannel shirt 
and a pair of Levi jeans.

Trevor Cole walked to the beach to listen to the calming sound of the waves.

He sat on a well known rock to watch the newly rising sun. The sky was a 
brilliant pale red behind him and the seafoam was dashed pink at his feet.
He looked around him, surprised that so few people were enjoying the dawn,
as he was.

Trevor heard a splash to his left. With a sudden start, he peered out into
the water. He was just in time to see a tail slide under the surface. He ran
closer to the waterline, his heart hammering in his chest. ::Not again.:: he
thought. 

But he saw nothing else. "A sea lion, yeah. That's what I saw." he said aloud.
His head still hurt from his near drowning two days ago and a cough
came up unbidden from deep inside Trevor's lungs. He sat down once
more, shivering. The doctor had said Trevor had been very lucky. He had
only suffered a mild case of sun poisoning. 

It was his fever that had driven him into the water. The Australian suffered
another chill, recalling that day. The whole numbing experience still had a 
very powerful hold on his emotions. There was a dim fear that wasn't ever
there before.

The off-duty club lifeguard stood and began to walk, ghosts hounding every
step.

He ended up at Crystal Pier. Here, too, was devoid of people. The restaurant
at the end of the walkway was still closed. Trevor leaned over a rail and looked
deeply into the sea. Warm winds caressed his face, making his eyes water.
Slowly, a semblance of peace settled gently over him.

He thought he was alone, until he saw her.

A blonde haired woman sat, almost obscured, in one corner of the deck.
She was staring at the horizon with a far away expression on her face.

"Hello." Trevor smiled.

The woman jolted, a shocked look on her features."Oh, hi!..I- I didn't hear
you approach."

"I didn't mean to frighten you, sorry."

The young woman brushed away the hair from her eyes, "You haven't. 
I just didn't expect to find anyone up so early."

Trevor smiled politely but didn't say anything in return. He rested his forehead
on top of his arms propped along the white railing. The headache was
back again, and growing. 

"I've come to this place every day for the last ten years, and I've never 
seen anyone so depressed by the beauty of a dawn on the ocean. 
Want to talk about it?" Cory finally said.

Trevor sighed. "Am I so transparent?"

"Yup."

He regarded this stranger in a new light. She had long hair the color
of the purest fire. Her eyes were the greenest he had ever seen. Her 
oval face was set with a quiet patience and she had wrinkles by her 
mouth that told of an almost perpetual smile. She was wearing a jacket
that matched her eyes and a blue plaid blanket lay, covering her lap.
Strangely, Trevor found himself spilling out his soul to her. He discovered
she was hanging on his every word, intently.
"....so then I got a clean bill of health and was released from the hospital.
You know, I still can't figure out who or what I saw out there."

"Maybe your friend Mitch was right.. Perhaps you were seeing things.."
Cory whispered.

"No chance of that, the other lifeguards found a weird piece of jewelry
around my throat when they dragged me out."

The small woman said nothing.

It was beginning to cloud over; California was going to get its share of
rain. Trevor looked at the sky. "Say, it's really getting dark. How about
I walk you home?"

She looked up with a wry smile.

"What's so funny?" Trevor asked.

"That's going to be a little difficult to do.." she said, folding up her
blanket.  That's when Trevor Cole realized she was in a wheel chair
with her legs locked tight into it. Taken aback, Trevor apologized and
offered to push her home."Thanks, but I'll manage. Say, listen. If 
you ever want to talk again,I'm here this same time just about every 
morning." She turned to wheel away. Just then, a shaft of sunlight 
burst through the cloud cover and bathed the both of them in a golden haze.

"Hey, do I know you?" Trevor asked.

But the woman was already out of earshot and blending into the fog
as she moved away.

Trevor succumbed to the wishes of his body and sat down once
more on his favorite rock to rest a few minutes later. His eyes closed.
He blinked and a frighteningly vivid hallucination of a wolf, sniffed
at his bare toes buried in the sand.

Sweating, Trevor screwed his eyes shut until the growling stopped.
He finally acknowledged that his fever was back once again to plague
his very thoughts.

A truck pulled up along side of him and he snapped from his reverie. He
recognized Craig Pomeroy from the public beach and Roy DeSoto, 
the paramedic from the suburbs who had taken care of him the
day he had fallen sick, "Hi.." he ventured.

"How are you feeling today, Trevor?" Craig asked, genuinely concerned
for his former charge. "We saw you out here by yourself, looking a little
green."

"I'm not going swimming again if that's what you mean." he smiled weakly. 
He frowned. "Maybe I am still sick.." Trevor looked up with worn eyes. "I
imagined I saw something in the water again today."

"No you didn't." said Roy DeSoto, answering easily. "There's a tamed dolphin
loose. He's been wreaking havoc on us for three days. People keep drowning
themselves to see him."

Trevor had to smile at that.

Craig opened the door of the yellow beach truck. "Come on, How about coming
to HQ with us for a cup of piping hot coffee? It looks like it's going to rain
any second now."

Trevor felt the first drops fall onto his shoulders. "Sounds like a plan." He stood.
"Are you sure all the women won't lynch me once I'm there?"

Craig grinned. "Been that much of a pest to the lifeguards, eh?"

Trevor slowly eased himself into the cab seat next to Roy. "Guess I must've
been a big one. Say, fellas, on your way here, did you happen to see a blonde
haired woman in a wheel chair leaving the pier's beach area?"

"Nope. She a friend?" Roy asked Trevor.

"Nah, I just met her this morning. But I swear to you, I've seen her 
somewhere before."

"Did you catch her name?" Craig asked. "Maybe I know it."

Trevor frowned. "That's funny... I don't KNOW what her name is." He 
moaned in frustration. It was one more thing to worry about. 

"Don't get worked up about it." Roy soothed. "A few aspirin to lower 
your sun fever and two cups of caffeine ought to jar your memory. If 
you'd like, I'll take a look at you to see how you're really doing once we 
get there."

They drove off.

Behind them, the song of a dolphin mingled with the rain.

-----------------------------------------------------------------------------

Photo:  Trevor in the arms of Cory Davison.

Photo:  Wheelchair view of a pier and ocean water.

Photo:  A wolf running the beach near a man's bare feet.

Photo:  Roy and Craig Pomeroy with a beach truck.

**************************************************************
From:  "Roxy Dee" <laterrapincabesa@hotmail.com> 
Date:  Thu Feb 17, 2005  10:45 am 
Subject:  Life's Lessons~~


Cory wheeled up the ramp of her apartment. It was the first time
she had been home for days. She had stayed with her old friend
Linda and helped her dog whelp fifteen Labrador puppies while
her daughter Carly was away at junior lifeguards' camp.
  
There was an official notice on the door frame. Cory ripped it
down with shaking hands. It outlined a search warrant and a 
copy of the police report telling of the robbery that had occurred.
And of the drugging of her dog, Kujo.

Cory unlocked the door after reassuring herself that Kujo was
fully recovered and well fed. She hurried inside frantically. 
Inside, she found all of her things were undisturbed, except 
for the crate. It was missing.

Cory eased herself onto her bed. Her dolphin drawings had been neatly
stacked in a pile and a handwritten note from one of the visiting officers
lay next to them. It scrawled how much he had admired her artwork
how he had personally made sure the house was re-secured with locked
windows.

Somehow, that innocent intrusion was nerve wracking. She hugged
one sketch tightly to her breast. It was a pastel of the little golden
dolphin statue.

Cory's will snapped and she started to cry swollen tears without
a sound. The drawing swam before her eyes, "Oh, Koko, they've
found me. I-I was going to give all of the treasure back. It..it was
wrong to keep it for so long.. I wasn't thinking.. I  wasn't !!"  Cory beat
her dead legs in frustration with hard fists. The pain in her hands
finally made her stop.

She lay back down on her pillow, staring deep into the eyes of
the dolphin drawing, "You are the answer to all my dreams. 
Koko, I won't let them take you away from me!"

-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
The rain had completely burned away in the brilliant sunlight.
Mitch's office glowed in yellow warmth. Mitch Buchannon got up
from his filing and twisted the venetian blinds shut.

There was a knock at the door. "Come in.." Mitch invited. He looked up.

A black and white photograph appeared in the open doorway.
"Look familiar, Mitch?" Garner said as he stepped into the room
with Vince Howard.

Mitch made his guess, "Yeah. Isn't that a photo of the jewelry we
pulled off of Trevor Cole's neck? And that's the comb Craig found."

"Right on." said Vince. "The stuff is priceless. The comb alone is
worth a cool 2.6 million."

"Whoa...." Mitch's boggled. "I wonder who's losing sleep at night over
these things."

Garner smiled. "The La Jolla City Cultural Museum. They reported one
of their shipping crates as missing earlier this morning."

"No kidding." Mitch said, "Why'd they wait so long to report it?"

"Now that's the interesting part of the story.." replied Vince, shuffling
through the arrest folder he had brought with him.

"Try me. Coffee, gentlemen?" he held out a cup to Garner first.
The ebony policeman shook his head vehemently, "No thanks. You 
lifeguards keep feeding me enough as it is.." He split a gut, remembering
the chase Mitch had only read about. "Ha! Mitch you should have seen
Craig pulling out our man, looking as smug as you please."

"You mean the robber who dumped all of his goods out onto the beach
while trying to get away from you guys?"

"Umm hmm. Trevor's necklace, comb and that crate belong to a new exhibit
opening up next week. The missing artifacts were accidently SENT to the wrong
address by courier. Our robber had a serious beef with the UPS system and he
figured he'd right things properly, once and for all, on his own." Garner related.

Mitch gawked. "Not the museum curator?!"

"The one and the same." said Vince. "All he had to do was check out the only
other address in town that was nearly identical to the museum's own address.
N. Seventh Street as opposed to S. Seventh Street.. All of the stuff was there
except for one thing, a small gold statue of a dolphin."

"And you found the statue in the house."

"Yes," said Garner, "And before you pounce all over me, the search and seizure
we did in your district on the beach was legit, although the owner wasn't home
at the time. We're still trying to locate her. The residence belongs to a one
Cory Davison, an ex-Navy scientist of eight years."

"It gets stranger.. and it's probably nothing. But my boys, Johnny Gage
and Roy DeSoto treated her daughter, Carly, the other day in school for a 
near fatal flare of a preexisting medical condition."

"Small world. She ok?"

"Who? The house owner or the daughter?" Garner asked.

"Both."

"They're fine. Carly's at Baywatch right now in camp and the watch tower
says that they saw house lights go on over at the Davison house
earlier this morning. Cory's finally returned home. At least, she was
there then. They haven't seen signs of her since."

"Gonna go talk with her?" Mitch asked. "What does she look like?"

Vince Howard handed him a dossier and a photo of Cory.

"She's beautiful. Are you going to press charges for mail theft?"

"No. During the search, we found a letter she had written to the museum.
She was going to send the crate back to where it belonged when she
was ripped off." Vince said.

Mitch set Cory's photo down onto the corner of his desk.

There was another knock at the door.

"Come in." said Garner and Mitch in stereo. They looked at each
other in a mild double take. 

Two Coast Guard officials entered. One of them said, "Excuse me, lieutenant?"

"Buchannon." Mitch finished for him, taking his hand in return greeting.
"What can I do for you?"

"One of our helicopter pilots has sighted an escaped naval dolphin in your area.
I'm sure you've heard about it."

Garner piped up. "We sure have. He's been running these lifeguards completely
ragged."

Mitch agreed wholeheartedly with Garner. "As he so bluntly put it. Yes, we have.
We've heard and seen the results of your dolphin's encounters especially."

"Yes, sir. It, unfortunately, got away from us. We were wondering whether or not
a joint operation could be set up to recapture the animal using our trainers and your
lifeguards. You see, we were thinking about using nets and--"

"Look out!"

Hobie Buchannon skated into the room and collided with his father's desk. He
came nose to nose with Cory's photograph and read the name typed in bold
print at the bottom, "Cory Davison, huh.." he breathed. Then he saw the military
men with the Naval Institute's logo all over their uniforms. His heart took a leap.

They were coming for the dolphin! He tried not to show the trepidation on his face.

Mitch was startled. "Hobie? What are you doing here? Can't you see that I'm
a little busy right now?"

Hobie was crestfallen, "Gee, dad. I thought we were going to have lunch
together with all the firemen, both paramedics and Chris DeSoto."

Mitch edged around the desk, "Excuse me gentlemen. This will only take
a moment." He grabbed Hobie by the shoulders and started wheeling his
son out the door, "How many times have I told you not to skate inside
headquarters? You'll scuff the floor." Mitch smiled politely over his shoulders
at his visitors.

Hobie was oblivious to the finer points of etiquette, "You'll never guess what I
found yesterday...."

"A dolphin."

"Yeah, how'd you know?"

"I'm clairvoyant. Now would you mind getting out of here? Tell Station 51
to take a raincheck. Craig'll be more than happy to take them all on the 
noon day sand sweep in my place. Besides, he makes a better cross
occupational ambassador."

"Sure, no problem. One more thing, dad."

But his father was already half inside the office again. "I don't have time
to talk right now, Hobie.."

Hobie called out after him, loudly. "It's about the picture of the lady on your
desk. I ran into her a few days ago. I think she's a dolphin trainer who's
worked with the escaped dolphin!" 

But Mitch wasn't listening anymore. "Later!" came the faint reply.

Hobie shrugged and skated for the front door. He nearly ran into
Shauni around the corner.

"Whoa there!" she burbled as she caught him and saved them both
a tangled fall to the floor. "Where's the fire?"

"Sorry, Shauni." Hobie wriggled out of her arms and got out of there.

She preceeded on to Mitch's crowded office.

Hobie's voice floated back towards her, "I wouldn't go in there if I were
you..." he warned.

::Uh, oh.:: she thought. Another father/son disagreement. 
She knew well, how those went. They still happened between herself
and her OWN dad.

--------------------------------------------

For twenty one years, Shauni had had to butt heads with him.. over
everything: Which school she would attend, which cheerleading team to 
join, what clothes she was to wear. It was all very nauseating. She had
absolutely no sense of individuality because Daddy had created her in
the image that he wanted to see. Just to appease her own frustrations,
Shauni started carrying out interests of her own, secretly. Like her modelling.
::Now that had fit well with Daddy's wishes.:: she thought ironically.
::Not.:: Shauni didn't even bother to tell him the amount of money she landed
as a clothed exotic dancer in a nightclub her senior year in high school.

The real problems began when she had started dating. Every guy had to be a
doctor or a lawyer straight out of Yale with a six digit paycheck. ::Daddy
was always the perfect matchmaker.:: Shauni frowned.

But it was plain ol' Eddie Kramer who encouraged her to break away from
the well do to Mr. McLane's devices to become whomever she wanted to be,
no matter what. One of the first things they did away from Daddy McLane,
was to go through lifeguard training together and then she moved out,
despite a storm of protests. Only the law and the fact that Shauni was
already a three years legal adult that kept Daddy McLane from 
pursuing them and taking her home again with him to the McLane Mansion.

Naturally, Shauni fell in love with Eddie. For he was the first person who 
had ever respected her as the separate, living, FEELING individual she
was who still had hopes and aspirations going on that were very different 
from those of his own. And he had never, ever stifled her; not even once.

And that made Shauni feel truly loved for the first time in her life.
::Now the true test'll actually be marrying him and then having children of our
own.:: she mused. ::Will we allow our kids the freedom to be themselves
too?::  Shauni hoped that she had learned that lesson well enough in
time for them.

She smiled, thinking how wonderful it would be if they would turn out
as free as Hobie Buchannon seemed to be.

--------------------------------------------------------------------------
Shauni steeled herself and entered Mitch's ready room.

Four heads in close conference looked up. 

"Shauni, what can I do for you?" Mitch piped up.
She handed him a stack of index cards, "Here are the rescue
cards for the last past week. You requested only those ones
that involved the tame dolphin in some way."

"Ah, great." Mitch smiled in relief, "Just in time." He took them from
her and slapped them into the palms of the highest ranking navy official.
"Nine people have nearly drown because of your freed dolphin. One of them, 
was a beach front lifeguard. I'll do anything to get rid of it." he said
firmly, his eyes sparkling with anger.

The big man aquiesced, "Ok. Let's get to work then. Here's what I've
got outlined so far." and he started to recite his plans coordinating
lifeguard clippers and coastline helicopters.

Shauni turned to leave, then she turned back again after a slight hesitation.
"Uh,, Mitch?"

"Yes?!" he whispered, in barely contained fury.

"I saw Hobie hanging around the jetty neighborhood yesterday."
she said, thinking she was being protective of the child. "I thought you'd
like to know that."

"Hobie? He knows he's not supposed to go there. Where is he?"

Shauni pantomimed rollerblading, shrugged both shoulders, and left.

Mitch really had a hard time concentrating on the schematics of the 
huge dolphin "safari" operation after that.

The official's voice droned on, "So, would this course of action be
acceptable to you, Lieutenant?"

Mitch looked up, "Hmm?"

Garner and Vince nearly choked on their donuts, laughing hard 
behind his back. 

They retreated to the sanctuary of their beach four wheelers before
they could destroy any more of Mitch's dignity.

----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- 
Hobie, minus his skates, dejectedly tromped up the ramp leading to 
Eddie's tower. He slumped wordlessly into the canvas chair next to
him.

The older red trunked man mimicked the boy's actions and slumped
just as low into his own chair. Hobie was mildy surprised when Eddie
didn't ask what was bothering him. In fact, it looked like Eddie was
feeling a little down, too.

The boy broke the silence. "Did you lose a swimmer today?"

"Nope." Eddie said, not looking at him. "Lover's quarrel."

"Oh."

Hobie killed a moment by juggling with Eddie's sunglasses,
binoculars, and a civilian CPR book.

"Neat trick." Eddie said unenthusiastically.

"Thanks."

Pretty soon, Hobie got bored with counting all of the gorgeous babes
he saw walking by in front of him. "Wanna talk about your problem?"

"If you talk about yours." Eddie countered. "You first."

"Ok, pretend that you are dad."

"Shoot."

Hobie took in a deep breath, imagining his father's face in front
of him. "Dad, you told."

"He did?!.....uh, I mean. I did?"

"Yeah! Two muscleheads are with you now going over the big dolphin
hunting trip details!"

Eddie ran some fingers through his hair, "Oooo, rough, uh.. *cough*
What can I do, son? She has to go. People have gotten themselves in 
a lot of trouble trying to get closer to her. Would you want to be held
responsible for their lives?"

"No."

"Well, I am, Hobie. I have to worry about the thousands of people who
come to the beach every day, expecting me and my guards to keep 
them safe."

Then, a big, almost grown up, eleven year old boy, started to cry.

Eddie startled, pulling his feet down from the tower railing. "Oh, geesh.."
He put a reluctant hand on Hobie's shoulder. He hated it when kids cried
too. He saw at least ten of them every day. He hated it especially when
one of them was a close friend. "Aww, Hobe. Show some backbone.
Just think, she'll be going home soon now and won't be starving anymore."

Hobie's tears flooded anew. "But I wanted mom to see her!!"

"Look, I know how difficult this is for you; when you want something so
bad.. that...that ..that you can almost taste it." He nodded encouragingly.

"No you don't. *sob*"

"Sure I do. Listen.." Eddie guided Hobie's head to his red jacketted shoulder
and held him close. "When I was nine, I found a puppy that didn't belong to me.
I had him for two whole months before my dad located his real owners. My dad
then told me, that I had to give him up..  That night, they came to take him away.
I ran to my room and locked the door so I wouldn't hear them come inside the house
to get him. When the front door closed for the final time, I couldn't resist peeking
out my window. There I saw that the pupply belonged to a little boy, even younger
than I was, and that he was crying...because he was so happy to see his
Little Lucky again. Later, in school, I kept picturing how many nights that boy must've
stayed awake worrying about Lucky and wondering whether or not he'd ever see him
again. ...Then I understood, Someone ELSE needed that puppy more than I did and
that it was very wrong to keep him apart from those who originally loved him."

Hobie slowly stopped crying and just sat there, nestled in Eddie's arms.

Eddie didn't want to move, "So you see, Hobe. That dolphin has a place
where she belongs and it's up to all of us as lifeguards, to take her back there."

Hobie thought hard about the boy, and the puppy, ...and Suzy.

Finally, he found his inner peace.

------------------------------------------------------

Photos:  None.

***********************************************
From:  "Cassidy Meyers" <killashandraRey@hotmail.com> 
Date:  Thu Feb 17, 2005  10:57 am 
Subject:  The Glow in the Water..


Captain Stanley and the rest of the gang was enjoying
toying around the strand in their beach trucks, paired
off by twos together and shadowed by trucks, driven each, by
a Baywatch team. Stoker was driving the sand hose truck,
a sort of lifeguard fire jeep that had compressors that could
pump out seawater from the ocean and turn it into fire
supressant foam from short nozzles anchored onto
a frame on top of the yellow truck's rooftop.

They were surprised by how large Baywatch's service area
was, ten whole miles running north and south along a narrow
stretch of beach.

Soon, the gang stopped at the far north end of HQ territory,
where the public beach ended and the private neighborhood's
began.

Six beach trucks pulled up for lunch near a large effluent 
storm drain sticking out of a cliff face at the surf line.

"Phew.." Cap complained to Craig, the senior guard who
was heading up their roving day trip on the beach. "Do
your storm drains always smell this bad?"

Craig Pomeroy shrugged. "That's part of the reason why I brought
you and your men out here. We're to collect water samples
from that to see what kind of effect it's having on the
reef out by the jetty. We typically test for fecal coliform 
counts, too. Once a week. The last samples of hair collected
from surfer fatalities from this spring has shown elevated 
levels of heavy metals coming from this pipe."

"Yeah, but I'm smelling something different today." said 
Captain Stanley. "It's more like raw petroleum runoff."

"Really?" asked Craig, "I can't tell. My nose's still plugged up from
hitting the water so much pulling people out from around that
dolphin yesterday."

"Would you mind if me and my men take in some equipment 
from the trucks and go check it out?" Cap wondered. 
"Something's not right here."

"Be my guest. Assessing pollution leaks, aren't exactly, our forte'."
Pomeroy admitted. "I'll radio in our plans to HQ after we've
got lunch grilling. Then, I wanna check out that jetty. There are
kids out there again who're ignoring the high sea wave warning
signs. Can your pipe inspection wait until after lunch?"

Cap turned his head into the wind appreciatively and was
soundly fooled by the ocean's salty tang. "I guess another hour 
won't hurt any. Let's eat. Mike Stoker's already volunteered to fry 
the chicken."
 
------------------------------------------------------------------
Hobie was on the jetty.

He didn't know why he was there, it just turned out that way.
He was on the storm ledge again, working his way out to sea.

The violent waves made him dizzy, splashing on either side of him.
He closed his eyes to steady himself. When Hobie reopened them, he
saw that he had found what he was looking for.

--------------------------------------------------------------------

Mitch walked onto the main deck of Baywatch. He went over
to the main duty watch guard at the windows, "Bird eye my son,
would you? I need to talk with him. Real bad." His foul mood
permeated the room.

Every lesser ranked lifeguard tried to disappear behind slates and
retaining walls. Mitch split the air. "Have any of you guys seen Hobie?!"

Jill and Trevor Cole looked up from their coffee cups. Jill responded,
"I saw him at Eddie's tower a half an hour ago. He looked pretty upset."

"Upset? I'll show him upset.." Mitch growled. "Trevor, you're with me.
Jill, go call Eddie and see if he can spot him, will ya? Hobie's got some
explaining to do." He grabbed up the required red rescue can he had to 
keep with him into his palm. Mitch turned on his walkie talkie and hooked it
to his belt, "We'll be on the boulevard, Jill. Buzz me when you find him.
Come on, Trevor.. Move it!"

A rookie spoke up to no one in particular. "Eee, I feel sorry for Hobie."

"Hobie?" jibed her companion, admirer's hearts in her eyes, "I feel
sorry for Trevor.."

Jill spit coffee all over her newspaper.



Trevor had to run to keep up. "Why are you using me as a partner on
foot patrol?"

"Because the rest of my men are with a group of firemen on the far side
of the beach taking water samples, that's why.."

Mitch didn't even hear the bustle of the crowds whizzing around him
on their bikes and skates. His binoculars were glued to his head. 

Trevor peeled off his shirt as their fast walking pace drew sweat. "Why
are we going to see Hobie?" he asked.

Mitch told him, "Because I just found out that he didn't level with me
about being at the jetty a bunch of times this week with his new camp
friends. My son's never lied to me this badly before." He jumped when 
his radio beeped. He answered it, "Riley? Go ahead."

##Eddie said he left to the north about five minutes ago.##

"Ok, thanks. I owe you one." he turned to his companion, "How much
do you want to bet he took his friends out to go see that dolphin again?"

"He's spotted it?"

"I'll say, Shauni's said that he even fed the thing fish to keep it around."

They continued toward the jetty neighborhood. Mitch put down his binoculars,
remembering something. "How are YOU doing? I forgot that you're still on
the sick list.." and he slowed down his ferocious walking pace to a crawl, out
of deference to Trevor's less than top notch condition.
"Going back to work soon?"

"Day after tomorrow. I figured that going back to work as soon as I'm cleared
will help me get my mind off that woman I saw."

"Still think she was real?" Mitch wondered.

"I don't know. That memory's still a real fuzzy mystery."
Trevor admitted, wiping sweat off of his brow. He only 
faintly started puffing, out of breath from their exertions.

This time, both of them jumped when Mitch's radio beeped
again. 

"Buchannon. Go ahead."

It was Manney, the watch guard in HQ. ##Lieutenant. We've
found Hobie.##

"Where?"

##Climbing on the 5th Street Jetty at the beach terminus with
Carly Davison and Chris DeSoto..##

Mitch scowled. "That tears it.. I'm gonna kill him.."
He walked faster.

They were almost there when Garner Ellerbe and Vince Howard
flagged them down..

----------------------------------------------------------------

She was there, swimming in the last place Hobie had seen the
dolphin. It was a woman with long blonde hair in a shimmering green
bathing suit. Her back was to all three of them.

Chris DeSoto went closer to her, "H-Hey there.. H-Have you seen
a dolphin around here anywhere?  We saw it yesterday and--"

The woman turned to face the three children, a look of surprise on
her face. It was Cory Davison!

Carly was shocked. "Mom, you're the one Hobie says the police are looking for?!"

Cory shook her head in desperate denial, moving away from them.
A sleek dolphin erupted to the surface, blowing powerfully.

The paralyzed woman was sitting on its back!

She cried out. "Oh, no!  Carly, take your friends home! This was
supposed to be OUR secret!" and she tapped Koko's head with
her hand and blew on her whistle, making the dolphin turn around
to start heading for deeper water and the concealing late
afternoon fog bank that was forming there.

Hobie scrambled along the ledge, trying to keep up with Cory
and Koko, "Hey, Cory! Wait a minute! I just want to help you--"

At that moment, a stench of strong fuel from the nearby effluent pipe
filled his nose and made him gag. His foot slipped on a slick boulder
and he tumbled head first into the deep froth. He had no time to cry
out.

"No!" Cory screamed. "Koko! Forward!" She and the other kids tried
to grab him but a wave swept him away out of sight. Cory guided Koko
nearer to the jetty. The animal swam with great strength over the next
wave's crest and down.

But Hobie was gone.

Just then, a nearby street jogger on top of the beach cliff, tossed down
a lit cigarette carelessly to dispose of it into the ocean.

Instead of landing on water. It landed inside the drainage pipe.

And ignited it.

A huge explosion ripped out of the five foot high tube of concrete
and fire spread on a gushing oil slick spurting out onto the surface
of the sea. It surrounded the jetty where the two frightened children
were standing. They started screaming.

-----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

"Hey Garner? What's up?" Mitch asked, tossing his can into the air.

Garner puffed as he caught his breath, "I just wanted to tell you
that we found out more about Cory Davison. Apparently, she's
a dolphin trainer who knows the escaped animal."

Mitch stopped in his tracks, "Hobie KNEW that. He tried to tell me.
I wouldn't listen." He started moving again. "Hobie's probably with
her and the dolphin right now trying to fix things up."

"Great! Perhaps she can help us capture it.." Vince said. The four of
them rounded the last bend leading to the overlook.

Trevor went white as a sheet, looking through his binoculars, and
stumbled.

"Trevor?" Mitch asked. 

Garner and Vince grabbed the Australian's shoulders in support.

"What's wrong? Are you ill again?"

Cole stared blankly ahead, letting the binoculars fall through numb
fingers. "It's her.." he pointed to a far distant woman in the water
near the jetty. "She's the one I saw in the surf the day I almost drown."

They all beheld what looked for all the world, like a mermaid. Complete
with a gray tail.

Then the walkie talkie sound an alert.  A swimmer was in trouble somewhere.
Sid the dispatcher's voice came over the radio. ##To any available unit.
We've a boy off the jetty. Who's rolling?##

Mitch choked. "Hobie!!" He started running, dropping his radio, using
his can as a barrier to protect his legs and face as he slid down through
a tangle of bushes choking the length of the sandy cliff's face, to the 
beach below.

He didn't hear Eddie come over the line, but Garner and Vince did.
##Truck Two, responding. We're on our way. Baywatch, we see 
a 10-92 at the same location. Repeat, a land and sea 10-92 in 
progress at the jetty! Multiple casualties in the water!!##

"A fire?" Trevor gasped, staring down the beachhead where Mitch
had hastily descended. "From where? There's nothing but rock
and concrete out there!"

"Come on, we'll give you a ride!" shouted Garner and Vince.
"We'll get there faster than Mitch will, using the four wheelers!"

Without thinking, Trevor Cole scooped up Mitch's abandoned radio
and leaped on board Vince's sand bike. "Ok, let's go.."

--------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
 
The whole 51 gang, on the beachhead, flinched and hit the sand
when the effluent pipe lit up in their faces with the angry explosion 
of fire violated fuel. The air over the beach soon filled with burning 
fuel droplets that rained down onto all of them from far above their 
heads.

"Into the water! Go.. go ..GO!!" shouted Craig and the other lifeguards.

Chet Kelly shouted when his curly hair caught on fire. A nearby
lifeguard tackled him under the water and snuffed it out.

Another lifeguard had grabbed a special navy blue meshed bag
full of tiny yellow cylinders before all of them were forced to abandon 
the six beach trucks as the oil slick fire slithered onto both sand and
water, growing dangerously larger by the second.
 
Suddenly, a new burning outpouring gush from the pipe cascaded
down into the water and a burning sea of flames surged towards
all the lifeguards and firemen desperately splashing water 
over themselves by the shallow end of the jetty.

It encircled them, rushing towards their faces.

--------------------------------------------------------------------------------

On the jetty, Carly Davison and Chris DeSoto 
were terrified out of their minds.

Between them and the safety of land, the entire sea was
catching on fire.

"Mom!  Swim away! Swim away! It's too dangerous!" shouted
Carly. Already, in her head, that odd buzzing aura that always
made her mouth go dry and sour, was rising. "Chris.. I think
I'm gonna black out!  Help me!"

Chris DeSoto leaped into action, tearing his eyes away from
the last place he saw Hobie Buchannon go down. "Carly?!"

------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Photos: None.

*******************************************************************
From:  Constantinos Bouras <kb9ora@yahoo.com> 
Date:  Thu Feb 17, 2005  11:49 pm 
Subject:  The Drama Continues

   
Meanwhile, back at Baywatch HQ, Sid, continued to send
additional units to the scene unfolding, and picked up
the phone and pushed the speed dial button for L.A.
County F.D. Dispatch as the force of the explosion
rocked the building and knocked him out of his chair.

"What the- ??????" He yelled as he got up and looked
out the window, seeing the growing plume of smoke.

At that moment, the radio traffic went into overdrive
as all the units in the area reported they were
rolling. He pushed the speed dial button on the phone
a second time.

##L.A. County F.D. State your emergency.## 

The call taker responded. "This is Baywatch HQ, we have 
a explosion and fire at the 5th Street storm drain, in Malibu.
Stand by... Ok, we have petroleum products involved,
that's spread to the ocean. We also have some kids on
the jetty there. Give me everything you can!!!!!! We
also have reports of lifeguards and the county
firefighters that are with us involved!!!!!!!!!"

##Copy, help is rolling.## came the reply as he got
the appropriate box number from the sheet and passed
the info to the dispatcher at the console. "Better
get boat 110 and whatever L.A. City boats they can
send." he said.

"Right." was the reply.

##Station 69, Station 65, Station 70, Station 71,
Station 88 Station 99, Squad 67, Squad 51, Copter 11,
Boat 110, Boat 310, Battalion 5...Respond to the 5th
street storm drain in Malibu for an explosion and fire
with people trapped. L.A. County lifeguards are
on scene. Time out : 1230.##

##Battalion 5, L.A.##

"Battalion 5."

##Be advised, L.A. City F.D. is sending Boats 2, 3, 5 and 4 to
assist. You also have 4 ambulances responding.##

"Battalion 5, 10-4. Start move ups and start the Coast
Guard in also with their chopper to assist."

##10-4, Battalion 5.##

Meanwhile, back at the jetty..

Craig turned on the canisters of emergency air and
passed them around to the firefighters of engine 51
and the lifeguard escorts, and included a mask.

"Ok guys, this should give us some clean air to
breathe, while waiting for the backup to arrive.
Should last 15 minutes, and there are more in the bag.
Just time your breathing right and you can make it
last longer, just like your SCBA tanks that you wear."

Just as they were preparing to dive under, they heard
a scream from the end of the jetty from Chris DeSoto,
who had spotted them, "HELP!!!!!!! HELP!!!!!!! HELP
US PLEASE!!!!!!!!!!!"

"Look!!! Down there at the end.." Marco yelled. "Isn't
that Chris DeSoto???"

------------------------------------------------------------------------

Photos: None.

***************************************************************
From: "Patti or Jeff or Cassidy" <theaterhost@voyagerliveaction.com>  
Date: Sat, 19 Feb 2005 12:21:54 -0800 (PST) 
Subject: Inch by inch.. Second by second.. 

As they rushed over the sand, Vince and Garner and
Trevor could see the lights of Eddie's truck
as he sped through the wave splash to join them.

Mitch made for the beach, stripping off his tan uniform
as he ran. Now, they could all see that Cory was on
the back of a dolphin and that she was screaming
for them, "Hurry!! I can't find Hobie! He was right under
me..!"

Buchannon backstepped to a halt before the flaring flames,
not seeing anything but the sea ...on fire.. and Cory. He made his
choice and peeled shoes and pants down to his red trunks.
"Hobie?!"  He unraveled the line on his rescue can and slipped 
into its band. He hit the breakers, swimming in powerful strokes
towards her. Mitch's plunge into the water, upset the dolphin. 

Koko went wild with fear when fire splashed near her eyes and
Cory tumbled off, "Kok-- Come h--" A wave slapped her in the face.
She started to drown.

On the beach, leaping off the police bike, Trevor saw her fail, too.
He, too, shed shoes and shirt. He knew that Mitch needed help now,
for Hobie was nowhere in sight. He dove in.

Garner and Vince snatched up fire extinguishers and fought for
clear paths over the smoking sand to the ocean. They saw that the beach
was empty of bodies. "Where are they? *cough*" Vince choked
over the smoky fumes. "I thought Mitch said all the fire boys would
be down here somewhere.."

"They are.. Look!" said Garner, pointing to the water. "But I don't
know how much longer they're gonna last. The fire's closing in on
them! Hey!  Duck under! Now! The fire's coming fast!" he warned
them.

Roy Desoto, coughing hard on fumes, shouted towards shore.
"Vince! Get to Chris! He's holding Carly up. Something's wrong
with her!"

"Got it! Now save yourselves!" shouted Howard through the smoke.
He leaped and jumped over burning sand to get to the jetty
and he started running towards the two kneeling dots of white
that were the children on the far end, dancing quickly over the rocks
as fast as he dared. "L.A. and Baywatch has the whole calvary coming!"
he said, listening tightly to his radio pressed to his ear.

Johnny Gage let out a shout and forced his own and his partner's
heads down into the next wave before Roy had a chance to
refill his lungs again. A hissing caressing bubbling sheet
of orange skinned over the surface of the water they had
just left. Fire was now burning directly above them on a thick
oil pool.

Roy DeSoto kicked out of Johnny's arms, trying to head out
to sea to outswim the spreading fire, but Johnny grabbed
his ankles, holding him in place. He pointed into
the murkiness to their right.

Another baywatch lifeguard, wearing a mask of glass, swam
over to them and thrust the mouthpieces of two yellow
emergency spare air cylinders into their mouths, and 
hovered there, waiting for them to signal that they were
all right and breathing ok.

Roy thought that air had never tasted so good.

He felt an underwater Cap, Chet, Marco and Mike join them,
with linked arms, similarly sucking on the tiny spare
air tanks that the lifeguards had handed out, and
one by one, they all gave the guards the ok signal.

Then they began the long submerged swim up current 
to reach the part of the sea that was away from the fuel fire
to get plucked out by the rescue boat.

Two guards stayed with the firemen while four others kicked
back towards the jetty to help Mitch and Trevor Cole locate
Hobie Buchannon's drowning form.

---------------------------------------------------------------
Mitch kept his eye on the woman. She was having a lot of trouble
staying afloat. He was torn between diving to search for Hobie, 
and helping her. He chose to go for Cory.

"Here! Hang onto the buoy!" he commanded her.

"Can't! Paralyzed..Too tired.." She slipped under.

Mitch took a breath and went down after her, dodging clumps
of burning oil. He grabbed her waist and pushed her to the surface.

She sputtered, sucking in huge lungfuls of air, choking on the acrid
smoke around them. 

"Easy, I got you." he encouraged.

"*choke* Carly! How's Carly?. She seizes whenever she gets too excited...."

Mitch shot a look over to the jetty. "She's still on the rocks. A
policeman's there with her, she's still ok." Mitch said as he brought his 
float in front of them.
The swirling water was deafening. He agonized over leaving her, "Cory!
Listen! You've got to try and hang onto this. I've got to go after my son..!"
He tried to release her but she had no strength left. Mitch couldn't leave her.
He spun them both around to drive away the fire, searching desperately 
for any sign of clothing. "Hobie!"

"Wait!" Cory shouted, growing more clear headed with her renewed ability
to breathe while in his arms. "Koko can find him." She blew her whistle and the small
dolphin surfaced next to them. Cory commanded her. "Koko. Seek! Retrieve the
toy!"

Mitch was beside himself, "What are you doing?"

"Just trust me! Koko, now!" she sobbed. She made a sweeping gesture
and the dolphin suddenly dove under the burning waves.

Trevor Cole got to them both, seconds later. His hair was singed but
he was still very very full of adrenalin. Cole saw that Cory was in
pretty fair shape, managing to keep her head above the water despite of
her paralysis. "Take her!" Mitch said. He took off the lifeline float and gave
it to Cole to use for Cory. "Look for the dolphin!!"

"What?"

"Just do it!" Mitch twisted in a circle in agony, still searching for Hobie.

"I'm so sorry. I did it again.. I'm....s-sorry.." cried Cory.

"Shhh.. Just relax. Let me do all the work. Concentrate on breathing
lightly. This smoke can still knock us both out." Trevor hissed.

----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
Photo:  Cory drowning.

Photo: A dolphin under the waves.

Photo: Mitch Buchannon grabbing a rescue can.
 
****************************************************
From:  Jeff Seltun <finiterider@yahoo.com> 
Date:  Tue Feb 22, 2005  4:03 pm 
Subject:  Beached!

 
Ten feet away, the dolphin broke the surface of the sea, bearing Hobie
in her mouth by his shirt. Trevor spotted them, "Mitch! Over there!"

Mitch got to his son and turned him face up. The boy was limp and unconscious.
He tried to see if Hobie was breathing, but a wave full of fire suddenly swept
over them and he was forced to cover up Hobie's nose and mouth with a hand
to keep them submerged until the danger passed. Mitch held his breath, hearing
his own heartbeat thud rapidly, waiting for the deadly swell to pass by. 

It pushed them nearly to the sharp rocks. He and Hobie burst into the air
a few seconds later. Rocks loomed at them horrifically. Without thinking,
Mitch grabbed onto Koko's close offered dorsal fin and the animal tail kicked
them away into some calmer, fire free water. 

There was more time between the waves.

Mitch tipped Hobie's head back over the dolphin's flank and listened. Hobie
wasn't breathing. After the next wave, Mitch gave him a breath. "Oh, G*d. Breathe!"
He couldn't tell if Hobie had a heartbeat.

Mitch began to swim to shore, looking behind him for incoming swells or other
lifeguards. He found his rhythm, giving Hobie two breaths in between each wave's
duck and cover move.

He got him ashore just down beach of the oil fire. Garner helped bear him out
of the water, "Is he breathing?"

"No.."

They stretched Hobie out onto the stained hard pack. Garner felt Hobie's
neck after the next breath. "He's still got a pulse."

Mitch nodded, continuing his efforts. "Come on, Hobie! Breathe!"

The boy remained still.

Eddie and Shauni arrived and the siren ceased. They skidded to a halt
a few feet away from Hobie. They leaped out of the truck, grabbing 
equipment they would need.

Johnny Gage dropped to his knees with an ambu bag and oxygen. He
tapped Mitch on the shoulder. "Ok, Mitch, I've got him.'

Mitch was in unreality. Hobie was going to die if he stopped and 
all he knew was that someone was now trying to pull him away. 
He fought back, grabbing at his son's head again.

"Mitch!" Eddie cried out, "Let us use the O2 on him! He needs it!"

Garner dragged his friend away forcefully, using an arm lock to 
control him, "Listen to Eddie and Johnny. They're going to help 
Hobie.."

Mitch shook violently and came back to himself. "All right.. I'm 
all right.. Let me go..."

Garner released him.


Eddie and Johnny Gage worked desperately. Shauni took the boy's
hand into her own. "Hobie? Can you hear us? Hobie. Come on, honey.
Take a breath. You're out of the water.."

They all looked at his fingers. They were motionless; only the ambu bag
hissed as Johnny Gage delivered breaths. 

Then Hobie squeezed her hand.

------------------------------------------------------------------------
 
Trevor had Cory near the beach. He picked her up and carried her to
the sand by Eddie and Shauni's rescue truck. She was coughing violently.
"You're going to be ok. Both of us are. Concentrate on breathing slowly."
He laid her down just before he had to lay down himself. He felt Roy DeSoto
offer him oxygen even as Captain Stanley gave some to Cory as she blacked 
out.

Mike Stoker and Chet Kelly helped Vince carry a limp
Carly Davison in all their arms, in a line, and then into the clipper 
boat tethered to the smoking rocks. 

Koko leaped over and over again in concern for the humans
and for her missing trainer until the boat finally ground itself ashore 
near where the others were working on Hobie, Cory and Trevor.

Then Koko just lay quietly on the hardpack, squeeing softly on
her belly as she watched everything going on.

"She's ok, Roy." said Vince to DeSoto about Carly, the little girl.
"Just a faint from smoke. No signs of convulsions at all. 
We gave her some 02 on board the launch."

"Set her down over here. I'll take her vitals as soon as I've taken
Cory's. Chris.. nice job keeping Carly from falling into the water.
I saw the whole thing. You make a pretty good junior lifeguard,
you know that?"

"Thanks, dad. What happened to you? You're all wet.."

"It's a long story. I'll tell you about it on the way back to Baywatch.
Can you start getting blankets for anyone who's lying down?
I'm sure Garner and Vince'll help you before they have to fill out
their reports." Roy suggested to his son.

"Ok. I'll get things started." smiled Chris. 

-------------------------------------------------------------------------

Gage and Buchannon bustled Hobie onto a backboard after 
immobilizing his neck with sandbags. Things looked good. Hobie
was breathing on his own, taking oxygen well. And he could move
all of his limbs. Hobie was loaded onto Eddie's beachtruck for the 
short trip to Headquarters to await an ambulance while Gage
and the others tended to his I.V. starting and crash recovery
medication delivery.

---------------------------------------------------------------------------

"You have some hard explaining to do, young lady.." Garner
gruffed. 

Cory looked up from the sanctuary of her blanket, "Yeah,
I guess I do." She was lying propped up on an ambulance stretcher.
Cory felt better. Her head was clear again.

Her daughter, Carly, was sleeping lightly under a lifeguard's
careful scrutiny on the passenger bench in a stokes stretcher.

Trevor appeared from around the rig's door. "You?!" Cory gasped.
"You're the one I saw on that beach that day?.. I didn't mean to
get you in trouble. It was just....I was so happy to be swimming again."
She looked away, uncomfortable.

"With the dolphin?" Roy asked, puzzled, he had already discovered
Cory's partially paralyzed state in the few minutes it had taken
her to decide to wake up again.

"And a scuba tank. I used to work at the Institute before...."
Cory looked down at her legs in shame.

Trevor bit his lip from where he was getting some minor burns
attended to on his forehead. "Look, it was my fault for getting caught
in that rip current. Not yours."

"But I distracted you.."

"It's not your fault!" He said angrily. He pushed away Roy's hands
and walked away to deal with the crowd gathering to watch 
the firemen from 51's fighting the fire with foam alongside the lifeguards
they were already familiar with.

Garner fixed her with a stare. "It's about time you were straight with us. 
What really happened out there? Why did you do all this?"

Cory sighed, caressing her sleeping daughter's damp hair. "After I heard on
the radio that Koko had been freed, I went to look for her, with this..." 
She showed him and Vince Howard the silver chrome recall whistle and 
chain she clutched tightly in her hands.

Silence stretched for several seconds. Cory shifted, restlessly, and pulled
off her oxygen mask. "Officers, you can't know how much I've missed being
in the ocean. I had to know that feeling again. Do you understand? With Koko,
I was free.."

Vince was a study in seriousness. "Talk about Trevor."

"I was feeling good that day. I had found the crate at my doorstep.
I couldn't believe what I saw inside. Such beautiful things. And the statue
of Koko. I wore the comb and necklace to celebrate my first swim since
the orca whale accident. I don't get the attentions of many men anymore.
That's why I teased Trevor. I thought he was cute." she looked away embarrassed.

"Go on." Garner said.

Cory looked up at the brightening sky, "But then he got caught in the current and was
swept away. I thought, My G*d, I can't let this man drown. He was almost
unconscious when I managed to get a hold of him. I gave him air through my
regulator, but he passed out. He looked so beautiful in the water, like an angel.
Before I knew what I was doing, I put my necklace around his neck and I kissed him.
Then I saw the lifeguards coming and I pushed him into their arms."

"Why didn't you stay with them?" Ellerbee asked her.

Johnny Gage shoved past Garner. "Excuse me, Sergeant Ellerbee, We've
got to go. The boy's already left for the hospital."

Garner relented and so did Vince and they both stepped back as Roy
got out and closed the ambulance doors. They saw a last glimpse of 
glistening green eyes as Cory began to cry for a great many things that 
would be no more.

"What will happen to her?" Shauni wanted to know. Vince and Garner had
forgotten that she was still there. 

Garner smiled at her. "Oh, I have a sneaking
suspicion that the courts will go easy on her."

Vince nodded his head, agreeing with his colleague. "After all, she did help
save two lives."

Shauni nodded and together, Roy, the two officers and Johnny Gage watched 
the manned Malibu paramedic ambulance disappear into the distance up the tarmack.

The firemen and lifeguards didn't know what sounded more mournful,
Koko's crying distress whistles at being separated once again from
Cory Davison, or the wind blowing through the dying waves.

-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Photo:    Mitch diving underwater.

Photo:    A child being supported in the water by the belly
              of a submersed dolphin.

Photo:    A lifeguard and his victim being dwarfed by monster waves.

Photo:     Closeup of a girl listening to a child swimmer's airway.

Photo:    Johnny Gage, soaked to the skin.

Photo:    A lifeguard diving off a rescue boat in huge seas.

Photo:    Roy soaked to the skin in close up.

Photo:     Cory Davison out cold, being breathing checked by hand contact.

Photo :    Chris DeSoto, standing in frothy water, dripping.

****************************************************************
From:  "patti keiper" <pattik1@hotmail.com> 
Date:  Tue Feb 22, 2005  6:28 pm 
Subject:  Pure Fishy-ness

 
Mitch and Hobie were at the zoo along with the whole gang from Station 51.

Dolphins leaped in their enclosed pool. The water danced in the sunlight. They
chattered excitedly, begging Hobie for more fish. Mitch hiked up his son so he
could more easily reach over the fence. His son threw in a sardine and three
dolphins played tag with it.

Hobie grinned. "Wouldn't it be neat if all dolphins were as smart as Koko?"

Mitch laughed and set his son down, "Yeah, it sure would. Maybe the dolphins
are the smart ones and we're the ones who need to do all the learning."

"Think so?" wondered Chet Kelly.

"Yeah," said Chris DeSoto. "Aren't their brains larger than ours or something?"

Hobie looked up from the dolphins, "Jill says it's too close to tell."

All nine of them leaned on the rail, watching the light play on the dolphins'
faces.

Hobie chuckled, reaching up to hug his dad's neck. "You know, I think mom's
going to like it here."

"I know she will Hobster, I know she will."

The firefighters of station 51 smiled broadly, recognizing that a small
rift had been mended between the burly lifeguard and his son.

Gage grinned. "Hey, Roy.."

DeSoto didn't looked up from the sardines he was feeding the milling
hungry mouths in the pool below them. "Yeah.."

"You know what?"

"What.."

"I think we oughta.. sign up for a tour with these Baywatch guys again.
I never got to hold one of those big red rescue can things and actually use
it going after a victim.." Gage frowned.

"You aren't a certified lifeguard.." Roy smirked.

"Well between that nasty drain pipe oil fire, and treating all the drowning
cases hauled in by em, I certainly feel like one." he chortled.   

"Can you do a pier jump? Or leap out of a hovering Coast Guard 
helicopter? Or make a 1000 meter swim out and around a reef buoy
at full waxing tide?"

"..no.. Roy, that's not the point." Johnny sighed. "The point is..."

Captain Stanley broke into the conversation, nipping the escalating
debate in the butt before it was overheard by the Buchannons.
"..the point is.. that ya had fun. We all did and the best part about
it, is that nobody died. Now quit yapping, ya twits, and enjoy yourselves,
or I'll make a few heads roll. Consider that a ..friendly order from
your directly supervising superior. Gimme those fish, Roy, I wanna try
that."

Chet's eyes boggled. "Cap, I thought you hated touching fish, or  
the thought of even looking at one."

"Not any more. Cory Davison's been.. conditioning me with handling Koko. 
I can even pet her now." smiled Hank.

"Cap, Koko's not a fish, she's a--"

"SHhhh!" Cap said. "Quiet, Chet. You'll ruin all her good hard work
getting me over my fish phobia. Don't say it's not working, Kelly.
Can't you see that I actually have a food fish out by the tail?"

"Quit cheating and open up your eyes, Cap." teased Stoker.

"Give me a minute.. I'm working up to it.. It's just that a sardine's so...
slimy.."

"So's a fire hose in a brush fire and that's never stopped you.."
Roy interjected.

"Telling point.." Cap said, cracking one eye open to look at
the fish he was moving over the dolphin pool. "Thanks, DeSoto,
for your vote of confidence."

"Anytime. Sorry for these guys, Cap. I do keep trying to teach them
em all the finer points of reverse psychology, but it's kinda hopeless
sometimes." Roy smiled.

Gage and Kelly glared in mild irritation at him, but held their tongues,
because they'd been ordered to.

"Keep at it. I like the thought of that end goal when they'll become
as tactful as you about my personal affairs and the odd quirk or
two." Hank sniffed.

Marco snuck up behind Cap and said very loudly,
"BOoO!"

Hank leaped up about six feet, and the fish went flying.
It was snatched up by a hungry maw in seconds even
before it hit the water.

"Lopez! Would you ..CUT..THAT...OUT?! I'm trying to
concentrate here...." Cap sighed, catching his breath as he
leaned heavily on the zoo railing.

"What, I didn't do anything.... Maybe the Phantom followed
us all to the convention."

Cap sighed, deciding to ignore his man, and he bravely reached
into Roy's steel bucket for another fish.

Lopez leaned into Roy, "Hey, how was that for a bit of psychology?
I was thinking it was sort of like how you scare someone to forget
about the fact that they're hiccupping..." he whispered.

"Crude.. but I think this situation calls for more ....subtlety.."
Roy admitted.

"Oh. I'll keep working on it."

Gage started laughing so hard, that he had to sit down.

--------------------------------------------------------------------

Mitch Buchannon and Hobie glanced over their shoulders
and saw that the Los Angeles County firemen were finally
relaxing out of the stress filled tension that they all
had when they had first arrived at Baywatch. ::A grueling set of
workshifts'll do that to ya. I knew the balm of the ocean
would set em all to rights. I'm glad I invited their crew out.
I think I'll do the same for the other shifts at that station.::

Hobie Buchannon coughed lightly, clearing his still raspy
chest and he felt his father's hand grasp his shoulder protectively.
To reassure Mitch that he was ok, Hobie reached up with a 
grip of his own and squeezed it affectionately.

To his thoughts, Hobie gave. ::Koko. I'll never forget you.::

In his head, the memory of the dolphin's smile, seemed endless.
 
------------------------------------------------------------------------


                 FIN

                 Episode Eighteen..

                 §§   A Fish Out Of Water   §§


-----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
 
Photo :    A dolphin leaping out with a camera mounted on a flipper.  
  
Photo:    Mitch and Hobie in a heart to heart talk by a railing.
 
Photo:   Gage brandishing a fish at Cap.
 
Photo:   Baywatch headquarters front.
  
Photo:   Baywatch TV logo.

Photo:   Emergency TV logo.
 
******************************************************************** 

***This current episode has just ended.
***Keep watching here daily for new episode
***scene installments.  To see other episodes
***we have produced, please see the links
***below. Music and screengrabs accompanied.

**************************************************
  
This is the pre-production period for..

Episode Eighteen,  Season Two
  
         §§   A Fish Out of Water   §§

Debut Writing in Progress Launch : February 1st, 2005.


            
                            End Credits --  Episode Eighteen  (Third Season)
                                      
                                              §§   A Fish Out Of Water  §§

                :)     This episode is dedicated to lifeguards everywhere who      :)                              
                        save lives by the multitudes from the world's unpredictable
                        rivers, lakes and oceans with a devotion bordering on the
                        obsessive. May all the victims in their arms right now...survive.
                                   
                :(                                                                                                    :)

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

 The Story Unfolds...

Season Three, Episode Nineteen..

 §§    Sacred Ground    §§
 
Debut Launch: March 1st, 2005.

-------------------
********************************************************************
 From :  katalyia <katalyia@aol.com> 
 Sent :  Tuesday, March 1, 2005 10:19 PM 
 Subject :  Sacred Ground-opening scene
 
Johnny slowly opened his eyes, wondering what had awakened him. After 
a few moments, he realized that he was thirsty. Slowly, he sat up and 
stretched a bit, before swinging his feet over the edge of his bed 
and standing up. Quietly, he shuffled his way through the dorm, 
across the apparatus bay, and into the kitchen.

Even though he was still half asleep, he didn't have any trouble 
finding a glass and getting the necessary drink. Once he was done, he 
placed the glass in the sink, turned and made his way back to the 
dorm.

As Johnny was making his way across the bay, his foot bumped against 
something in the dark. He paused as he tried to make out the slight 
noise it made. Deciding that he would find out what it was in the 
morning, and wanting to get back to bed and catch a few more hours of 
sleep, he started once again to the dorm, unaware that the object he 
knocked over was directly in his path.

A moment later, Johnny felt the surface under his right foot move and 
realized he had knocked over the slide board for working under the 
squad. As his foot went out from underneath him, he turned and tried 
to grab the railing that ran along the top of the squad. But the fact 
that he was tired prevented him from reacting quickly and he missed 
as the momentum threw him into the side of the squad.

Johnny heard the crack that his jaw made as it connected with the 
edge of the squad and the bang that followed as his head and shoulder 
met the side as he headed toward the floor. He hit the floor, as his 
hands went to his jaw and the air was knocked out of him with a 
whoosh.

*******

Roy jerked awake as he heard what sounded like a bang come from the 
bay. Looking around he noticed that the others were also awake, 
trying to figure out what the sound was. Except for Johnny, who was 
not in his bunk.

Deciding that his partner had probably tripped over something, and 
that was the source of the noise, he started to lay down.... started to, 
as the next moment a muffled pain filled scream, echoed through the 
bay.

Roy bolted out of bed as the light was slapped on by Stanley. 
Reaching the door mere seconds before his Captain, he saw that Johnny 
was down, that he had been holding his jaw, and that blood covered the 
lower portion of his face.

--------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Photos : None.
 
********************************************************************
From :  Cassidy Meyers <killashandrarey@hotmail.com> 
Sent :  Friday, March 4, 2005 10:35 PM 
Subject :  How Sharper Than a Serpent's.... 
   

"Oh, L*rd, what now?" Cap exclaimed, rubbing 
frustrated fingers through his hair when he spied 
Johnny lying flat on his back just past the hallway 
leading from the bunkroom into the large vehicle bay. 
He had just about stepped on one of Johnny's outflung 
hands. 

DeSoto hurried forward, bending low. Gage failed to move 
at Roy's touch, shout or to a sharp knuckle rub to the 
chestbone. 

Chet's eyebrows rose in concern. "Seriously beaned, man." 
He leaned forward to crouch down by Johnny's head. "Looks like 
he wiped out on the mechanic's creeper, Cap. It's no longer leaning 
against the tool locker by the mop bucket. It's by his foot." 

Hank sighed, "Now who managed to bump it down 
out of the rack and onto its rollers like that?" He kicked it away 
under the squad in irritation and it clattered metallically 
on ball bearing wheels as it hit the far wall in a scooting ricochet. 

"Probably accidental." Stoker replied. "Maybe Boot 
horsing around in here again, jarred it free. You know how 
he likes to go after the damp mop heads hanging in the cleaning closet to 
dry. Roy, is he breathin' ok for you? Carotid pulse's fine." And he reached 
for Gage's jawline with two sets of spread fingers to get a cleaner airway 
on him. 

Roy stopped him, "Wait a minute. There's more than just a bit of 
blood here around his mouth. Let's stabilize his head and roll him over 
onto his side instead to get him opened up better. Kelly, go get the 
O2, a C collar, the backboard, and the biphone." 

Cap wasn't worried much, yet. "I don't think he's deeply unconscious, 
guys, he's not snoring any. I'll go call in a still alarm." Hank said, 
rising. 

DeSoto stopped him. "No, Cap, not yet. It'll take all of us to turn him 
without bending his neck at all until I get this collar on. It'll only 
take a minute..." 

Carefully, moving firm but smoothly, the five men tipped Gage's 
quiet form onto his side, keeping everything about him in a line 
while Roy gingerly secured the soft cervical collar and fastened 
its straps. Johnny's mouth sagged open then and a flow of bright tinged 
saliva and blood bubbled out from between his lips. 

"Is that blood coming from his tongue?" Lopez said, getting 
a hasty demand valve on full passive flow ready for use. 

Roy and the others finished getting Gage strapped securely 
onto the light oak spineboard.  Kelly didn't let go of Johnny's 
face until Gage's head was fully sand bag blocked and strapped 
firmly still. 

"No,.." said Roy, settling a hand on Gage's stomach 
to monitor the change in his breathing following a deft bulb 
suctioning. "His lower lip's not split either. I think just the upper side of 
his right jaw impacted hard on something. It's just beginning to balloon 
up a bit here with a bruise right at the cheekbone by his ear." 

"Look at your squad door, Roy. That dent's the same size 
as Johnny's face." Marco said in exasperation, wincing. 

"At least that part of the chassis's hollow. " Roy sighed. 
"Ok, get that O2 going, he's clear enough now, but don't 
tip him off his side until I'm done checking out his head 
here." 

Marco held the oxygen mask firmly over Johnny's nose and mouth 
and let the stunned paramedic breathe it in on his own without 
any thumb triggering, which wasn't needed. 

Roy was finishing a set of vital signs, when Gage moaned 
and coughed weakily, trying to move. 

Everyone began talking all at once, urging five different 
kinds of encouragement, or stern warning, to keep still. 

It made Johnny screw up his eyebrows in irritation as he 
came to. Angrily, he choked on something, startling Lopez, 
who dropped the mask. Gage spit out a bloody tooth, complete 
with its double forked yellowing roots. 

It rolled like a playing di across the shiny cement and clicked 
against Kelly's shoe. Chet picked it up. "Well, I'll be darned. 
It's a whole complete molar!" 

"More like a wisdom tooth.." said Roy squinting with expertise. 
"His upper right one." he sniffed.

Chet cocked his head like a dog twerking to an oddball sound. 
"He's just as pale as us, man. Is he doing ok?" 

Roy glanced down between his backboard supporting arms to 
get nearer to Gage's ear. "Hey.. Johnny. Talk a little. We got 
your C spine. Where do you hurt?" 

Gage sucked in a catching breath and his eyes fluttered 
opened. "Whaa.. happhh..nd? I can't moou--bb!" he blinked 
from around the demand valve's face mask. "Oh..spineborth?" 

Roy grinned. "Yeah. You fell. Again.." he rolled his eyes. "I told you that 
you needed to get some sleep to avoid hitting your trusty ol klutz in 
the dark button. Now answer the question. What hurts besides your 
jaw here?" 

"Nuffin..." 

"What?" 

"I saith..nuffin!" Johnny winced. "Owww.." and he closed his right eye. 
And his tongue probed around a little. "Hey, Roy? I think I losth a toof..!" 
he said in high alarm. 

DeSoto straightened up in sudden, relieved, exasperation. "I think we can set 
him on his back now, fellas, don't you? He got that one right." he added dryly. 
"Cap, go ahead and call Rampart. He's doing good enough neurologically 
now to manage without the gravity aid." 

Chet was thinking about Johnny's last horrifying self discovery comment. 
"You sure did you lucky son of a--- Johnny, ....Roy here says you lost 
one of your wisdom teeth..See? It's right here." Chet said, holding it nearer 
to Gage's eyes like a fine jeweler would a precious gemstone to 
a watching buyer. 

"Eeooowww. Get thath away frob me or I'm gonna puke on ya!" Johnny yelled 
half in a mix of horror and genuine anger. 

"Why? It's just a tooth..." Chet said reasonably and puzzled. 

"It's not just any toof.. It's MY toof!  Uoohh no.." And he turned green. 
"Here I goOOOU..  GAAAAAuhgghhh......." And he fake vomitted, jutting 
out a gory tongue, just to shock Chet into dropping the thing out of eyesight 
and fingers reach.  He stopped pretend gagging before Chet hit his own 
personal gross out point. Then he started laughing at how successful he 
was in getting Chet's face to wash ghostly white. 

He let Kelly off the hook."Of all the wayths to thave a little money by 
avoidin a thit to the dentith, guyths. Oh,, maaannn *Cough*" 

"You sure you're all right?" Roy asked him after exchanging a few words and
sentences with Dr. Brackett on Johnny's almost completely normal vital signs. 

##How's his Babinski's?## came the firm bass voice of Kel. 

Roy licked his lips, "Doc, I haven't got that far yet. Hang on a sec." 
and he quickly covered the jarbles of irate physician with his other palm, 
deciding quickly that preventing hurt partner from getting irate was a far lesser 
evil than any mere doctor rage. 

"I'mm no-- hurth!" Gage insisted around his fattening cheek. "Jus 
hath the win knockth out--me." he wiggled in the C collar. 

"You weren't even twitching when we all found ya. 
Stoker, here.." and DeSoto tossed Mike his penlight. 
"Go check his eyes for any mismatching or misreactions.." 

Gage sighed around the 02 mask. "Lope... I don't nee thisth..!" he 
said plainatively. "I'b fine.." 

Roy sighed, too, rubbing his tired face with his free hand.  He froze 
for about a quarter of a minute, meeting Gage's staring eyes that 
were singularly boring through his own. They didn't even blink or wince 
once, even when Stoker checked their pupillary responses with the 
overly bright pure white glowing L.E.D. illumination. 

"Perfectly p.e.a.r.l., Roy. I checked twice." said Stoker seriously. 

##Transport, 51! If you can't give me all the details now, transport, 
and we'll definitely be talking about him and how you've 
managed my transmission later!!## 

"I'm.......not......GOING!!" hissed Gage so vehemently that 
both the pink and the black and blue cheek puffed out in 
passionate obstinance around the demand valve. "It's 
Friday, around three am ...and I'm lying on the friggin floor 
in the middle of Station 51.. in the heart of industrial ... 
Carson City!" he rattled off, in barely contained apoplexy. 

Derisively, DeSoto plugged his phone receiver ear to block out Brackett's 
booming beratement while he said, "Gage's refusing, doc. One hundred percent. 
Sorry about that. Disregard this whole patient contact call. Squad 51, out." 
And he hung up the black phone in seconds. 

Click. 

A loud silence overtook the vehicle bay. 

Hank didn't know whether to fold his arms in a glare or mince 
his fingertips with worry in front of his suspender-ed T shirt. 
"Roy... can he--" 

"He can. He just did. I can't treat him if he refuses. Any more than 
I can treat any patient who's awake, conscious and fully aware 
of his surroundings. Guys, set him free.." he said, getting up 
from his knee aching squat on the hard chilly cement floor. 
"And let's save that O2 for somebody who really needs it, huh? 
Lopez get a ice bag for that face purpling from the freezer. I'm 
sure he won't argue THAT recommended treatment to death any. 
I'm going back to bed." he grumbled. "Thanks, Johnny, 
that was real funny...." he said deadpan sarcastic."Can't say it 
was one of your best gigs. It stank. Royally." 

Roy's sleep dishevelled shadow shuffled sleepily back 
into the bunk room. His was followed by Boot's and 
the methodical click of bored claws. 

All the rest of the guys watched them go, all wearing the same 
expressions of sheer dumbstruck muteness, including the 
strap and block immobilized Gage. 

Then, one by one, all the gang got equally in a huff. Grinning 
secretly in unspoken sudden conspiracy, the four of them swept up 
Johnny and his long board into their arms... and hung him on 
the wall off a jacket hook. 

Yawning, they turned to go, imitating Roy to the point 
of actually leaving John in the dark with the flick of the light 
switch...... for several minutes. 

"HeyyyyYY! Ya aren't just gonna leave me here!?" Johnny 
rattled against the bricks. "I didn't plan anything.. Well, 
maybe the fake chunk blowing part.... Guys.. I'm 
getting real uncomfortable!!! If you don't want me going 
into shock for real, you'd better g--!" 

Laughing at his ire, the guys hastily returned and laid him 
back down on the ground to undo his arms and legs and 
pull off the collar. Stoker and Marco helped Johnny up with a 
double grip of their hands, chuckling evilly. 

Kelly said, "If you're feeling well enough to call off an ambulance, 
why don't you go put the gear away like a good little non-patient 
before you shower up to wash all that blood off." 

Then the gang DID leave Gage alone, exiting stage center, full 
back. 

In irritation, Johnny got rid of the last of his throbbing jawline 
sinus headache with a few snorts from the oxygen tank mask. 

Then, in a re-inflamed case of the willies, he started cleaning 
up all the rescue apparatus, all the while cringing in anticipation 
of one of his bare heels suddenly crunching down onto his now 
truly lost, luckless tooth. 

To add insult to injury, Boot didn't even leave his warm place 
curled at the curve of Roy's butt, to help him find it. 

-----------------------------------------------------------------------

Photo:  Hanging upside down from a longboard stretcher.

Photo:  Gage looking greasy in a T shirt, and confused.

Photo:   Cap and Chet grinning in relief and amusement.

Photo:   Brackett in scrubs over the phone, listening closely.

Photo:  Johnny, irritated, sucking on O2 in the vehicle bay 
             with Roy laughing about it.

***************************************************************
From: Roxy Dee < laterrapincabesa@hotmail.com >
Sent :  Wednesday, March 9, 2005  3:46 PM 
Subject :  The Sacred Ground


Gage was the last one to breakfast. 

He had spent the better part of a half hour poking 
and prodding in his mouth using the bathroom mirror
in and around the gap his knocked out tooth had left
behind. The cheek bruise, he wasn't worried about.
It was the fact that nothing behind remained of
his tooth, that did.

He sat, holding the long since warmed ice bag
Marco had given him last night over his bruised
face self consciously, as he sank down in his
chair.

Roy immediately zeroed in on him while he spooned
out a hefty portion of hashbrowns onto his plate.

"Headache gone yet? If it's not, you've earned
yourself another mandatory vitals check. Cap's orders."
DeSoto said.

"Yeah, it's gone. My face doesn't even hurt anymore."

"Then why the long face, Johnny? You're not the one
who's going to get the shop bill when Charlie comes to pop
out that door panel on the squad this afternoon."
Kelly ribbed, taking a sip of milk. "Man, nothing like
taking a midnight header into a solid object.."

Johnny frowned in irritation at Chet's light humor, tossing
the spent ice bag into the trash so that it narrowly missed
smacking the curly haired fireman on the shoulder.
Kelly dodged it easily without even looking up. Gage
waited for a reaction, but didn't even get one. "So,"
Johnny said. "Didja find it before ya mopped the garage
out this morning?" he demanded.

Kelly kept on chewing.. "Hhmm. Chewy omelets, Cap.
Glad I got enough teeth to manage it..." 

"Chet!" Marco chastised. "Knock it off.. You know how
much this is bothering Gage. Quit teasing.."

"All right.. all right.. I'll give. Geesh.. How else can a guy
get his fun around here? Yes, I found it. It's in a glass of
water by the stove over there..." Kelly pointed with his fork.
"But I already called the dentist's office. They said it's 
far too late to do anything about saving your tooth. Nothing 
short of an ambulance ride to the dentist chair would've saved
it in time and that trip...you nipped in the butt before anyone could
say anything about it last night."  Chet admitted honestly. "So, 
what'cha gonna do with it? Raise it on animal skin scaffolding out
in the woods somewhere to dispose of it? I know how much
the physical body and its parts mean to your people."

Gage flared. "Chet, you don't know what you're talking about.
I don't have to bury or burn it. I just have t--" he broke off,
getting even more self conscious.

Cap wiped his mouth with a paper napkin while he munched
on buttered toast. "To do what, Gage? Now don't clam up. 
You've got us all curious about it. Might as well 'fess up 
because you owe me one for not filing a report on that header 
you took out in the vehicle bay." Hank said no nonsense. 

Gage looked properly abashed, even though his eyes rebelled
against it. 

Cap went on . "Beside that, I let you sleep in to recover some. And..
I'm not subjecting you to any of the usual A.M. chore details. Heck,
Stoker even made you some soft boiled eggs so you could actually 
eat something this morning."

Johnny accepted the plate pushed in front of him meekly. 
"Thanks, Mike, Cap. But I really can't talk about it. What I gotta
do is something that's.. real personal and private."

Hank stabbed Gage with a piercing glare. "I almost threw it out
for being a biohazard in the station."

"What?" Johnny said in shock. "Cap, you know where I'm angling
and yet you're trying your d*mnedest to make me talk about it."

"D*mned straight I am. How many times have I told you to
turn some lights on in the garage at night when raiding the refrigerator."
Cap countered.

"I wasn't raiding the frig. I was getting a glass of water."

"Moot point. Your accident, was totally preventable." Cap replied.

"So's just about every other one Johnny's been in.." Chet chuckled.

"Hush." Hank huffed at Kelly. Then he simply turned eyes on Gage
in firm insistence, to spill the beans.

"I...have to make a personal totem offering to the Spirit World." 
Gage mumbled.

Chet didn't miss a thing. "A what? You mean you have to burn your tooth up
in a bonfire or something while dancing naked under the moon in warpaint?"

Gage just made a face. "No,, Chet. You make it sound as though my people
were still living in the dark ages. I just have to make a prayer sack and wear
it for a couple of days. No big deal.. Uh, that's if I can wear it under my uniform,
Cap."

"Sure.. Why not.." Hank said throwing up his chin. "No different than Marco
wearing his gold crucifix under his t-shirt. But I absolutely prohibit any
noxious weeds or other highly offensive olfactory offerings going into the 
bag. We've a public image to uphold."

"I think I can get Nakoma to make me one that's subtle." Gage said.

Stoker lifted his head from the paper. "Who's Nakoma? Some sort of
medicine man?"

Gage started to look uncomfortable. "No.. he's an elder in my family
who has the sacred responsibility of burying us when we die."

Kelly laughed. "Ah, I see where this is going. He'll even bury just a 
tooth?"

"Yes." said Johnny seriously. "That especially. My tribe considers
the head to be closest to the Creator Spirit. It's where our soul
truly rests while we're alive."

"Well what about the fighting spirit?" Marco asked. "I remember reading
somewhere that Seminole warriors believe that aspect lives in the blood 
and heart."

"It does. But I'm not a warrior. So I don't have to worry about my blood
when I lose it. Only..." he broke off.

"Only physical body parts.." Kelly continued where he left off. "I get it.
Radical, Johnny. I never knew you were such a religious fanatic."

Gage sighed while he gingerly slurped down his steaming eggs.
"Very funny. I got an appointment with Nakoma to get my prayer sack
today. I gotta go get it before the sun hits noontime or there'll be 
h*ll to pay with my Aunt."

"She already knows about your tooth?" asked Roy.

"Yeah.. I called her last night after you guys went back to bed.
I had to. It was my duty as her nephew to let her know that a part
of me had just died."

"Gage. That's so morbid.." Kelly squirmed.

"Chet. I didn't expect any of you to understand any of this so why don't
you just shut up and forget about it. Let Roy and I handle this ourselves."

DeSoto, set his jelly knife down onto his saucer with a clatter.
"What do you mean let me handle it with you?"

"Roy.. you're my oldest friend.. And...whenever there's a sacred 
ceremony on the Grounds with Chief Elder Nakoma, a non married 
tribesman always has to have his closest friend in attendance..to...show that
he's lived his life honorably by having someone who's already proven themselves 
to be a ..true soulmate." Johnny blushed. "I mean, what else can we be to each other? 
We've saved each other's lives a dozen times over."

Roy smiled. "I'll be happy to stand with you, Johnny Gage. Wouldn't have
it any other way." he said sipping his coffee. "Just so long as I don't
have to run around naked, wearing beads around my neck 
or anything like that, roasting my skin off in a sweat lodge."

"You won't have to do anything but be there and smoke a pipe briefly...Thanks." 
Gage said, without looking up.

The rest of the gang continued eating in respectful silence...until
Chet piped up. "So, you both gonna have to wear face paint for
this tooth memorial ceremony thingamabob going on today?"

------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------


It was ten A.M. and Johnny clutched the saline filled jar holding his
tooth in his hand nervously. "Roy, I hope to G*d we don't get another
squad run.." he said, pulling off his helmet while he and his partner
drove for a resupplying stop at Rampart. "There's only two hours left
until my spiritual appointment's deadline."

"Easy way to fix that. We won't eat any food. It seems we never get a run 
when we're not eating..." Roy joked.

Gage surprisingly didn't laugh. "There is that.." he said seriously.

"You're really worked up about all this, aren't you?" Roy asked.

"Of course I am. All these years since leaving the reservation, I've
never even once had to visit Nakoma. When I was a boy, he used
to make me nervous..." Johnny said.

"Why? It's no different than say, me, meeting my pastor."

"It's a lot different.. Nakoma just doesn't oversee tribal religion. My aunt
says that he can see into you.. Directly. Up close and personal.
And he doesn't even have to know anything about you..." Gage
sighed. "I guess I'm afraid that my life so far won't measure up.
I haven't done anything for back home.. since..since I left.." he said, 
throwing up his hands and pulling off his overcoat.

"A dereliction of duty, huh?"

"You can call it that.." Gage said uncomfortably.

"Well, no matter what happens. I'll be with ya." DeSoto nodded.
"After we've restocked I.V.s we can go to Nakoma's shop, ok.?"

"Ok.." said Johnny nervously..." ok." he said to reassure himself
mostly. "Oh,...man.."  He fumbled setting his tooth jar into a cup
holder and almost dropped it onto the floor. Only a hasty catch
saved it.

"Relax.. or do I have to get Dr. Brackett to prescribe you a sedative?"

"I'll be relaxed once I have that prayer amulet sack and things are
under way. This whole process will take a week. We gotta fast,
and be outside during certain times and the whole works.." Gage
admitted.

"We do?"

"Yeah..."

"Cap isn't gonna like this fasting part.." he scratched his nose
as he drove the squad into the hospital's driveway. "And I don't
think I'm gonna like it much either. I think we oughta grab some
chow in the cafeteria while we're here because we still can."
Roy said evenly.

"No!  No.. Roy, you said it yourself. We'll get a run then for sure.."

"I was joking.."

Johnny didn't hear him and immediately flung his squad door open
the moment Roy had backed it to a halt near the ER's ambulance
doors.

Gage rushed inside, seeking out Dixie McCall..

----------------------------------------------------------------------
Photos : None.

**********************************************************
From:  "Cory Anda" <andacory@hotmail.com> 
Date:  Tue Mar 15, 2005  5:40 pm 
Subject:  Body Part Paranoia
  
Johnny Gage made his way through busy bustling Rampart
with all the skill of a medical worker to the ER's front
desk.  "Hey Dixie.." he said without preamble.

"Oh, hiya Johnny. How's it going? You fellas made good
time from Anaheim for this time of day. Traffic must be real
light. I got the supplies you requested right here. Double check 
me. Two bags of Ringers, six Travenol set-ups. An ET sized 
7.0 French. Two epinephrines, at 1/10,000..  Three MS adults, 
and a box of cardiac electrode pads." she said. 

"Missing a peds Narcan dose." Johnny said, fidgetting with
a couple of pens like a drummer would a pair of drumsticks on
top of Dixie's latest metal patient chart. He didn't look at
the relaxed nurse, nor did he beg off for a cup of coffee from
her.

That got Dixie's attention faster than a fainter in the waiting 
room. "Ok, what gives, Johnny Gage? You're jumpier than an addict 
on heroin this morning."

"Whaa.. say, listen, Dix." Gage said, still rubbernecking down both ends of
the hallway. "Are Early and Morton nearby? I gotta talk with them. It's
kinda urgent."

"I'm not replying to that question until you actually show signs 
that at least one of your ears are still working." she said, noticing
the deep, dark bruise purpling the right side of Johnny's face.

"Dix.. this is important!" Johnny insisted, leaning in on her.
"I gotta track down my last M.D. surgery notes A.S.A.P. before it's too
late to do anything about it."

A puzzled frown knitted itself across Dixie's face. "That might take
a while. Your patient records are buried somewhere in the depths of Medical
Records, inactively status-ed , because you're currently 100% perfectly healthy."

"That'll change in....an hour. Exactly."

"Are you hexing yourself for some reason or do you just love me
so much that you want to get that nasty face bruise looked at right away?"
McCall squinted suspiciously, reaching for it, trying to use humor to
curb her own sudden, rising worry about him. 

Gage jerked his face away from her long fingernailed grip. 
"I'm fine. This is nothing."

"No it's not.." offered Roy, finally catching up with his partner."I think
that cheek bump is the first case of frontal brain pan concussion in
the history of modern medicine..." DeSoto quipped. "Trip and fall
last night. Minor." he confided to the head nurse. "Relax, Dix. I already
gave him a once over before he pulled a refusal on me."

"Oh. So his fidgetting here, like a five year old in a dentist office, is normal?"

"Yeah, he's got an appointment he doesn't want to go to.."
Roy said, collecting the box of medical supplies from Dixie
after signing off on a requisition form.

"With Morton or Joe Early?" Dixie asked, watching Johnny
mince uncomfortably. "I noticed the tooth jar in his hand and he's
asking where they are right now."

"Neither. He's got a date with a close relative concerning a  
personal matter. At noon."

"What can be so personal that's got Johnny wound up this bad?"
Dixie wondered while they both watched him get a drink that he
didn't need from the hallway drinking alcove. Then she remembered
what he had just said to her. "Locating a surgical record...?" she 
mumbled, answering her own question with an even deeper puzzle.

"Huh?" Roy jerked his head around.

"Johnny was plugging me to drop everything, including today's
admitting chartwork to snag the surgical notes from his last
visit here when he was under the knife..." Dixie said. 
"Specifically, Joe and Mike's surgical notes..."

"He was?"

"Uh...huh." Dixie blinked slowly with a confiding nod.

An uneasy light flickered on in Roy's eyes.
"I think you'd better humor him and get them. This may get ugly."
 
"What'll get ugly?" Dixie demurred.

"I don't think I'm allowed to talk about it."
"Shh. Here he comes again...Keep it down." DeSoto hissed. 
"Hi Johnny. Cup of coffee?" Roy asked brightly, feigning 
a cheerful casualness.

Dixie McCall got busy on the phone.

"Nah. No thanks." said Johnny glumly. "I'm not thirsty.. Dix.. any 
luck in finding them yet?" he said grasping the tooth jar so tightly
that his fingers were turning white.

"Careful! " Roy shouted, snatching the jar out of Gage's hand.
"Or you'll shatter it and earn yourself a place in the waiting room."

"What? Oh, sorry.." Johnny said, still searching worriedly for Joe
Early and the young African American resident. "Dix?"

"Working on it. Betty says she's calling an orderly right now to
run it up personally. A burly one." she joked.

"Oh. ha. ha. My chart's not that big..."

"Oh, yes it is..." said Roy and Dixie together.

Johnny pursed his lips, refusing to be cajoled into a better mood.
"Just so I get that sheet."

Right then.. Dr. Morton left Treatment Room Five, drying his hands
with paper towelling. He tossed it away into a medical waste bucket.

"Just the man I wanna see..." Gage muttered and he quickly crossed
the few steps between them with Roy and Dixie tagging along behind,
trying to stop him. "Doc.. you gotta help me..!" he began.

Morton took one look at Johnny's face and took Gage under the arm.
"What happened here? Orderly! Get a wheel chair! Stat..."

"No...not for this thing. It's just a bruise." Gage said, feeling up his
purpling face and under eye.

"H*lluva bruise if it knocked one of your teeth out. Roy was smart
to bring it in with you.." Morton said. "Now sit."

Johnny shrugged and tried to deny the need for himself be 
wheeled into a nearby empty treatment room. "I don't need to. 
I need you for ANOTHER reason real bad.."

"Sit down. Shut up. We'll talk about it." Morton commanded darkly.
"Or do I have to call in another musclehead to get you in order?"

The orderly pushing Gage's summoned wheelchair flexed his biceps 
meaningfully.

Johnny sat. 

Embarrassed, Roy and McCall both followed doctor, orderly,
and Johnny into the darkened room. Morton flicked on a light switch
with an elbow and immediately started probing Johnny's tender face.
"What'dja stop with your face? A truck fender?"

"Yeah..The squad's." Roy said firmly sarcastic. 

"Mind explaining that one to me? How the h*ll did he get under
your front tires?" Morton jibbed.

Roy minced in frustrated irritation. "Doc. He's not here to be seen.
He's here to..."

Morton interrupted him, pulling out his penlight. "I'll be the judge of that.
Roy, I'm surprised at you. His pupils are showing that he had a black out
about eight hours ago. Why didn't you bring him in as soon as this happened?"
he snapped at the blonde paramedic.

"He didn't want to go. This is all nothing! Really!  Just ask Dr. Brackett. 
He'll vouch for me."

"I'm gonna do that..Right now." Morton withered them both with a trademark glare.
"Johnny, don't move outta that chair.." He made his way over to the phone 
on the wall and started dialing. "Dix, get a left arm blood pressure reading."

"But.." 

"That's an order, Miss McCall!" the young physician resident pointed a sharp
not to be denied finger at her before turning back to the operator.

"Right away, Doctor Storm."

Morton ignored the jibe.

Dixie's mouth was still hanging open in confusion. "You both lost me
minutes ago at the front desk. Care to clarify?" she said wrapping a
BP cuff around Johnny's arm.

"He's gonna kill me..." Gage mumbled, reclaiming the jar that Roy
held, into a tight protective cradle of laced fingers.

"Oh, come on.. Morton's not that bad.." Dixie breathed. "Well,..maybe
that bedside manner of his is. He's never been a good listener." she sighed. 
"However I AM, so spill it Johnny. The whole sordid tale.."

Gage swallowed. "I need my spleen back.."

Dixie nearly dropped the stethoscope in her hands. "What kind of
crazy comment is that? And I thought I'd heard everything."

"Look, do you think it's still in Pathology Store from this spring or not? 
I know how you guys like to save organs for teaching all your medical 
students. Plleeaaasse say that it might still be down there." 

"Johnny. Calm down.." Dixie she said, patting his arm, trying to get a
BP around his wild gesturing. "It might be. Though I can't be sure that you
even signed the right forms for that then. You were pretty out of
it the night that car hit you."

"I remember signing a donor form when I first signed up for the fire 
department!" Johnny yelled, his voice getting louder.

That made Morton, in close discussion with Kel Brackett, look up.
"Is he getting combative? I'll be right there...."

Roy and Dixie both denied that observation vehemently.
"No..no no no no no no.. He's fine. Just mad. Emotionally mad.
Uh, he's just...fine doc. Heh. Look I'll prove it. His pressure's
140 over 96, doctor.."

"Hmph." And Morton turned back to the phone, getting the rest of
the details about Johnny's accident and jotting the notes down in
his pocket notepad.

Johnny was still plenty worked up, biting his fingernail.
"I gotta fix everything.. Make it right before I go over there." he mumbled.

"Just what the heck are you talking about?" Roy asked. "I thought
you were angling being hurt to get a new nursing student in here
to fuss over you so you could cheer up a little. I wouldn't put
a stunt like that past you."

Johnny grabbed Roy's collar and hauled his face down
to his level. "I gotta get my spleen back or prove that Joe and Morton 
cut out my spleen knowingly in writing or they'll be h*ll to pay. He's 
gonna know, Roy!"

Now Roy was looking at his partner askance, the same way the
doctor and nurse were. "Are you feeling ok? Maybe I missed 
something on you last night."

"I'm fine. Roy. I just need either of those two things within...within..."
he looked at his wrist watch. "ohmyg*d forty minutes, or I'm dead meat.." 
Johnny panicked, fussing in the wheelchair. His activity earned another 
sharp glance from the rapidly talking young doctor across the room.

Dixie frowned, setting a gentle hand on his heaving chest.
"Who's out to get you?"

"Nakoma. And very soon after that, my aunt'll be."

A light bulb went off inside Roy's head and he buried his head in
his hand against the wall. "Oh no. Not the burial rites thing..."

"Yes, the burial rites thing. Roy, the more I think about it, the more
trouble I think I'm in. No one has ever not atoned for a body loss
before in my family. And now I know I have. I allowed a splenectomy 
done on me."

"You were in life threatening shock, Johnny. You had no choice.
It was either that or...." Roy began.

"I know that. Dixie knows that. And so does Morton here. He
and Joe are the ones who cut it out of me..." Gage said with exasperation.
Then he froze still in discovery.. "Say.. maybe Morton can come
along with us today and confess what he did to me. Or..do I need Joe Early
too? As his co-murderer?"

Roy's face twisted in searching, very unwelcome, disbelief. He couldn't
quite fathom what his ears were telling him.
 
Dixie was a little faster absorbing details.
"Won't that chart entry be enough? Joe nor Mike can't leave the ER
right now. Kel'll more than have a fit." Dixie insisted. "Take it
easy, Johnny...I think I can put a rush on it.."

Johnny clamped down on Dixie's arm in a vice grip. "That might
not be fast enough, guys!" he agonized."Nakoma's traditional to
the last. He might not even know how to READ a chart entry let
alone accept one from the outside world."

"Johnny.. this is the 1970's. Everyone reads. Especially curio shop 
owners in this day and age, or their taxes would never get done." 
Roy said no nonsense.
 
Johnny froze, considering. And then he relaxed a whole nine yards.
"Oh, yeah. You're probably right. I must be snowballing..." 

"You are.." said Dixie and Roy in one breath.

"Enough to freak out Dr. Morton here. And that's not easy to do.."
McCall quipped.

"Oh. I am? Gee, I guess I'd better let him off the hook, huh?" Johnny 
said mildly. "Hey doc.." he called out.. "Doc..."

Morton barely looked at him.

Johnny horsewhistled sharply between his front teeth.

"What?! I said I'll be right with you, Gage." said Morton in irritation 
from his phone conversation. "Malcolm? Watch him. Closely.."
he snapped to the orderly. "I'm almost done."

Gage poked Malcolm the orderly in the stomach. "You can't touch
me. That would be assault and battery. Hey doc, guess what? 
I'm refusing again... Bye.." and then he, Dixie and Roy hurried
out of the room as fast as the wheelchair could move.

Morton was left behind, helplessly tied to a highly re-annoyed Kel 
Brackett who had overheard Gage's parting shot over the phone line.

-----------------------------------------------------------------------------
Photo:  Johnny Morton and Roy talking at the base station
             desk.

Photo:  Johnny in a helmet chatting with Dixie.

*****************************************************************
From:  Katherine Bird <kathbird01@yahoo.co.uk> 
Date:  Tue Mar 15, 2005  6:35 pm 
Subject:  Elder Encounter
 
Johnny Gage didn't trust himself to not fidget. "Roy, did ya remember
to bring my chart log?"

"Right here. Relax, junior." Roy sighed as they left the street where they
had parked the squad curbside. He held up the surgical notes that
Dixie had copied for his partner up in the air as he ambled up to the
door of Nakoma's curio and trading shop. He tried to peer inside
around the ornate gold lettering and tribal designs stenciled on
the door's glass. "Hasn't he opened yet?"

"Not to the public. This morning is reserved all for me..." Gage
said nervously. "Oh, man. I'm wound up worse than what I was for
my first day morgue clinical for paramedic's class.."


"That's good." Roy said. "Then you won't say anything you might
regret. You have a tendency to clam up when you're really flustered.
Just think, now your foot won't be able to get wedged so tightly in your 
mouth once we're standing in front of him. Ready?"

"No.."

"Open your eyes, Johnny. I'm reaching for the door knob right
about....."

A sharp tone on both their belted HTs, came to life. ## L.A., Squad 51.##

Johnny jumped and was shaky enough to not be able to reach his
radio's release clip fast enough to reply.

Roy answered the hail. "Squad 51.."

##Squad 51. Message from the L.A. Shop Office. Standby for communications
patch.##

"Standing by..." said Roy, with a puzzled look.

"Oh, no.." groaned Johnny.

"What?"

"That's Charlie I'll bet. He's probably itching to get at the squad to pop
out your door."

"The sooner the better. "

"I don't know who's gonna be worse.. Charlie the mechanic or Nakoma here.."

Roy was a friend enough to not laugh. "I promise I won't tell him exactly how 
it happened or who was actually responsible for the dent.."

Gage completely missed it. "Roy, Charlie'll never yell at Boot. He loves
that dog more than his own mother. Didn't you know that Boot camped out
at the Engine Shop for a whole two months and got so good at anticipating
Charlie's fire department repair routine, that he started being able to hand
out the tools Charlie needed to work with before Charlie realized that 
he was even thinking about using em.."

##Squad 51, I have your patch to 602.##

"Copy 602.." Roy told L.A.

## Hey slackers! Where the h*ll are ya?## came Charlie's irate New York 
sounding taxi driver's voice. ## I got my truck idling in the back yard waiting
for ya..##

"Grab some lunch with the fellas, Charlie. It's Cap's chowder today.." he 
dangled. "We'll be around in..." Roy looked to Johnny for a time estimate.

Gage silently mouthed.."One hour."

"...an hour." DeSoto said over his talkie. "See Stoker for the damage photos.
They're on Cap's desk so you can guess how much time you're gonna need
in order to--"

##Already saw em, fireboy. Just get your butts back at the station with my 
poor abused squad in an hour, five, or there'll be Hades to pay. Don't think
there won't be any because I'm a smidgeon away from accruing overtime that 
I don't need! And do me a favor that I won't regret...## boomed Charlie.

"What's that, Mr. 602?" Roy said with an amused expression on his face.

##Be sure to wash the blood off Lil Red's paint job before it cakes on
any worse in the sun before ya get here. Next time, slow down enough to nail 
the d*mned squirrel with your front bumper, not with the door with any speedin' 
up trying to get away from it.##

"Squirrel?"

" * squeak..squeak..* " Roy teased Gage, covering the speaker. "Well, well
well. Will wonders never cease? Looks like Chet managed to turn your 
dramatic escapade last night into something mundane enough to chill 
that temper of Charlie's. Good for him. I think you owe him one, Johnny."

Gage was too nervous eyeing up the curio shop's dark animal taxidermied
and artifact filled windows to pay any attention to Roy.
 
##602, Squad 51. Did you two bozos copy my last transmission or not?!##

"Squad 51 to 602. 10-4. Squad 51, out...." DeSoto replied. "Our ETA is
confirmed at an hour, five."

## It'd better be. ## snapped a barely mullified Charlie. In the background,
Roy could hear dishes being served up onto a table and sounds of bubbling.
In spite of itself, DeSoto's stomach growled. :: I'm missing chowder! ::
Then the open line cut out and Sam Lanier's voice came back onto the frequency.
## 602 signals automated termination at his location. Do you affirm?##

"We do, L.A... Squad 51's now 10-8 at the 1100 block of Lerner and Oseola."

##10-4, Squad 51. Noting your change on the grid. L.A. out. * Spap.* ##

Gage startled at the severed line click from Headquarters. Then he
squared his shoulders and said, "Let's get this over with..."

His hand reached down and turned the intricately Seminole pictogram
carved door handle.

The two paramedics made their way into the shop. A low growl met their
ears. Turning, Roy and Johnny came face to face with what looked like 
a wolf lying in the doorway leading to the back of the trading post's
counter.

Unbidden, Johnny's left palm came up into the air in a respectful 
benediction before his own forehead. "Ko-wah-yah- lot to chené 
pahén empom. Numpagalaale laknalon."

The hybrid dog's hackles slowly fell and it sank back down onto its
belly, and licked its lips in resumed boredom.

Roy unfroze.. "What was that all about?"

Johnny shrugged a shiver of incomprehension. 
"I dunno.. It just came to me without my even thinking about it.
Seemed right to say that somehow.." he said, licking suddenly dry
lips.

"Not quite right, Ya-laahe Kowechobe. You just told Nageela that flowers
are yellow and that three horses are eating hay in your gift mother's tongue."
said a voice, stepping out of the shadows. It was a shorter older
Seminole man dressing in colorful beads, silverwork, ribboned pants
and an airy mauve speckled shirt opened at the chest. "You should
be ashamed of yourself to let your native language slip so badly.
It dishonors all your ancestors."

Johnny paled to almost Roy's skin tone. 
"Nakoma!  I meant no offense. I'm feeling a little off balance here. Look, can
we go outside for some air? I-I..I was working a house fire this morning and 
haven't yet cleared out my lungs good enough yet to think straight."

"So you now fight Ee-te Yo-ga-hé, Orange Panther? She said as much.
That, at least, is a step in the right direction. Fire is an enemy not many men 
are brave enough to face. But that is no excuse to shun your aunt's desire to 
impart some wisdom about your heritage through Speaking."

"I'm sorry, Nakoma. I haven't had much time to keep up my lessons with Kehayke."
Johnny said like an eight year old school boy in front of a chastising school
teacher. "I could honor my pledge to gain knowledge if only Snow Hawk
wasn't so stubborn about moving into my ranch house so I could take
better care of her..."

The wizened old tribal elder simply held up a gentle hand to silence him.
"She is a piece of the West Wind, Johnny Roderick Gage. And I now see
that the same wind is in you, too. No one can tame such as that easily. Not
even one whose birth embraces it. This speaks much to me of your life,
Panther." Nakoma studied Roy closely with a wrinkled, piercing gaze that 
sank deep. "So, your closest companion is Miccosukee, Johnny. Honorable 
that you've chosen him of the Other People whose homeland now dances
with our own. Nakoma bids you welcome, Roy DeSoto..."

Roy blinked in surprise when his name was spoken out loud without
an introduction. 

"I read your name tag, son.." said Nakoma with a toothy grin. "And I see
you carry the spirit proofs I'll be needing." he said, indicating both the tooth 
jar and the folder containing Johnny's patient notes in Roy's hands.

"Uh, yes sir.." sputtered Roy, rubbing his nose in embarrassment.

"Come. Nageela will show you the way into my Sun Circle.. uh, my personal 
garden. I've already set aside some refreshment.." he said with a slight angle
of his whitening head. "After we've eaten and are filled from the pool's waters, 
we can begin your purification rites. I have Young Opa Henle, helping
me today. He is a most promising initiate."

----------------------------------------------------------------------------

It was forty minutes later, Johnny was almost completely untensed
after the simple meal of palm hearts and fried corn cakes. The sun felt
warm on his back as he listened to Opa and Nakoma say the sacred
chant of Atonement for his behalf. He hadn't even coughed when
the ceremonial pipe of herbs passed between the four of them.
::Guess all this fresh air's finally doing something for me.:: he thought.

He closed his eyes for a few seconds, fending off a slight drowse.
A steamy puff of summer wind made him open them...

And he came face to face with a slabbering, roaring maw of a six hundred
pound grizzly bear. 

"YahhhhHH!" he shouted, flinging himself backwards off of the coarse,
brightly colored woven prayer mat.

Nakoma, Opa and Roy fell to laughing as the tame bear began snuffling
Johnny's outflung hands, begging for any shred of leftovers.

"Where did that bear come from?!" Gage gasped.

"From under that tree, Panther." said Opa, the young indian man.
"She was lying under it the whole time to keep herself cool. You mean
to tell me that you never saw her there? Miccosukee did, right away.."

Roy chuckled. "You'll have to forgive my partner. He.. injured himself
yesterday enough to addle his brains. Always takes a day or two for 
Johnny to sort himself out."

Nakoma patted the affectionate giant bear's dusty coat fondly.
"Yes, I saw the battle marks on his face that showed how his tooth
was taken from him." he gestured with a ceremonial ribbon dressed
hawk's feather. "And Coo-Wah Shoke here knows she might get
some food from one who's still slow from his wounds.." he said.

Gage laughed. "Big Pig? Is that what you call her?"

"Yes, for that is her nature. How she gets with food and her love of 
wallowing in the mud. The city says I can have her as long as she
never goes into the shop and stays behind my gated fences. Are
you still frightened of her my boy?" Nakoma asked.

"A little. Let's just say bears and I haven't ever gotten along. Lions
and tigers don't like me much either.." Johnny said, uneasily.

Clucking his lips, Nakoma sent Coo-Wah Shoke away from the
food fire on the tiny willow tree ringed shore of the garden's pool. 
"Go for a while. This one needs my healing without his fear of animals
rising, my old friend. He'll be all right.." the old man told the bear.

Roy and Johnny looked at Nakoma thoughtfully until the elder
explained. "She worries about those who're heart sick and is
drawn to them. I'm afraid you were enough to break her sleep,
Panther. Tell me of your old transgression that effected you here.."
he said, motioning to the general area of where a spleen would
be located. "You will not be judged by me for that is not my place
in the World.." said Nakoma. "I see that part of you has been missing
for a half circling of the sun."

Roy handed Nakoma the medical records Dixie had managed to
scrounge up. "I don't know if we have time for you to read all of
these doctor notes. Johnny was hit by a car and had to have
emergency surgery to save his life. I was there when it happened."

"We will have time. The Creator will send those who might need your 
medical healing and fire fighting to the others in your House. It always
happens that way." said Opa with certainty, briefly touching the broad
cast monitoring HT that Roy had set on a rock by their blanket. 

Gage blinked and so did Roy. "We did eat without getting a rescue call.
Think it'll last?" he joked to the young man.

"Until we are done here. Yes." said Opa with fervor.

"Wish I had your confidence.." Johnny murmured, as Opa took away
his grass woven food plate and pottery fired water cup.

A cloud passed over the sun, and its shadow chilled the air,
making the pleasant sweat on Johnny's face turn uncomfortable.

Nakoma's eyes opened and he fixed Johnny with a sad stare.
"I am sorry.There is little I can do to restore your Spirit's balance, 
Johnny. It is because the circles that you move within have been
disrupted for too long."

"Disrupted? How?" said Johnny, his old apprehensions about keeping
the tribal appointment coming back in a flood. 

"Your body takes on its hurts and pains often. Does it not?"

"Well, yeah, but.. I've always sort of had a klutz gene."

"Not always. It is only since then. 
When you did not see me when the first Loss of Body happened. 
It does not matter that it was the Miccosukee doctors who took your 
body's spleen without your knowledge then. What does matter, is that 
you did not atone for its loss, until now." Nakoma said. "I can erase 
that old transgression now. But the harm that comes often to your Great 
Circle, will stay near for a time."

Gage felt uneasy. "I'm sorry.. I didn't think that my surgery was a critical
matter for the tribe to have to worry about."

"There is always a serious cost for delay when the spirit/body is concerned. 
You as a city healer, as a paramedic, should know that. But, what's done is now 
done and I cannot lessen the imbalance. I'm afraid I can see that you will 
suffer more in that which surrounds you, before your spirit circles come into 
balance again." said Nakoma. "For every neglect, comes a price," said the 
old tribal elder,.." In blood or in its ties.."

-----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

The warm sun had fled, and a dreary, inadequate rain fell on Station 51.
 
All the gang only half heard a complaining Charlie the mechanic banging 
away on the squad door, finishing up its restoration work out in
the vehicle bay. Johnny Gage thought that sipping a mug of Cap's 
chowder would cheer him. It didn't. So he started talking instead. "Roy, 
what do you think he meant by that?"

"Do you mean Nakoma's doom and gloom statement that he shared with us
before we left him or Charlie's last oath in Italian?" Roy grinned.

"I'm talking about Nakoma.." said Johnny quietly.

The smile on Roy's face died. 
"I don't know. I'm not good at understanding mystical stuff....and about
what happened earlier today.. I understand, even less. Maybe he was just 
trying to scare you into spending more time with your Aunt to learn your 
native language like she wants you to."

"Roy, Nakoma's a respected elder. He wouldn't stoop to such pettiness
to get anybody back in line. "Johnny said. "A man doesn't become a 
Spirit Elder by being manipulative. There's only one born
in every generation, and that is earned with years and years of dedication
and study.  Nakoma's the free-est spirit I've ever encountered."


"I've heard of one freer.." smiled Roy, looking up at Johnny.

"What?"

"Nothing. I wouldn't worry much about what Nakoma said. 
No one is subject to manifest destiny. We all have free will. 
I sincerely believe the choices we make in our lives are always 
made free and clear from anyone's influence, except perhaps,
sometimes, our own."

"You really think so?"

"Yeah."

Johnny didn't say anything and just toyed with the steaming soup
with his spoon. 

"You look hungry again," Roy said gently. "Eat your soup before 
we get called out on a---"

The tones went off.. and the call that followed them began to
transmit over the speakers as the whole gang piled out of
the kitchen. 

Charlie the mechanic grabbed Boot's collar and got both himself
and the shaggy station mutt, out of the way of traffic.

## Station 51......     ##

----------------------------------------------------------------------

Photo:  Johnny and Roy talking by the squad.

Photo:  A spleen diagram.

Photo:  Nakoma the elder and Opa assistant, grinning.

Photo:  The elder by a camp fire with Opa, nightfall.

Photo:   Johnny and Roy answering a call squadbound.

Photo:    A trading post curio shop.

Photo:    Close up of the squad's radio.

****************************************************************
From :  Champagne Scott <chameleonkate@hotmail.com> 
Sent :  Sunday, March 20, 2005 5:48 PM 
Subject :  Boot the Dog's Sixth Sense  


##...., Truck 9. Possible suicide attempt. 18 West McGinty. Cross 
street Lawrence. 18 West McGinty. Cross street Lawrence. Police 
on scene advise no lights or sirens. They specify a boy is involved. 
Timeout, 1437.## said Sam Lanier quietly. There was a slight 
hesitation in the L.A. dispatcher's usually calm voice that 
that showed uncharacteristic emotion or something else, that 
all the humans simply missed in their haste to gear up 
and get belted in. 

Before the echo of Sam's voice died away, Boot suddenly whined, rising 
to his feet. He began to bark deep authority filled woofs to hasten the 
gang into faster action like he did only for a located victim whenever he was 
at a rescue site. But this time, he was looking up the wall where the giant city 
map frame hung, intently focused on the speaker grill. 

Mike Stoker gaped as he slipped into his overcoat. "Why is he 
doing that?" he asked Chet and Cap and Marco piling into 
the Ward around him. "Crazy mutt. There's nothing up there, 
not even a flying moth to go after." 

Cap shrugged. "Boot's a veteran fire dog but he's getting 
older. Maybe he's just in anticipation for us to hurry it up 
a little. This is a kid call and he's smart enough to know 
what the word "boy" means without any encouragement 
from anybody." 

"Probably." said Mike, and then he was all concentration on 
checking out the boulevard through the opening door ahead 
for approaching traffic. 

Chet and Marco continued to stare in puzzlement 
at the stiff legged, on-the-point barking Boot as the engine 
pulled out after the rushing squad. But then there 
was no more time to wonder when an update from the police 
department came over the radio. ## Seven Mary Three, Station 51. 
The child's guardian is on scene and accessible.## 

"Engine 51, Seven Mary Three, 10-4." replied Captain Stanley as he 
tightened the strap of his helmet more firmly against 
the rainy wind pushing through the engine's open window. 

The outer door rumbled shut, muting the busy traffic sounds, 
and relative quiet returned to the station bay. 

Charlie the mechanic tried to pet Boot's back, but the shaggy, 
tan and red dog shied away from him quickly, only to resume his staring pose 
and urgent barking fit. "Hey, boy. What's the matter? You hungry? 
Come on, I'll feed ya a can of Rival. Don't worry about the boys, they'll be 
back. Firemen return to the coop even faster than carrier pigeons 
do, ol' fella. Just give it em couple of hours for this one. 
I'll just bet that kid's got himself up in a high place somewhere 
while he's working through being a runaway or something. You 
know how parents can get sometimes. He's probably just scared 
witless." 

Boot ignored him and continued to stare and bark oddly at the 
grill, until an unbidden stomach growl brought the juices flowing into his 
mouth at the word 'Rival'. He cut his barks off reluctantly. 

"Huh." smiled Charlie. "Thought so. Your chow'll be under the 
payphones in a second. Then I'm gonna go read the sports pages. 
Just let me wash up a bit." mumbled the greasy palmed Charlie 
as he ambled towards the kitchen, whistling an aimless tune. 

Boot finally padded after the blue shirted grizzle haired mechanic. He 
offered one last whine of concern to the rain gray light in the air as it 
dimmed in the garage. 

---------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Photo:  A rainy river bridge from a car driver's perspective.

Photo:  Boot, barking frantically.

Photo: The engine and squad traveling down the expressway.

*********************************************************************
From :  patti keiper <pattik1@hotmail.com> 
Sent :  Monday, March 21, 2005 10:49 AM 
Subject :  [EmergencyTheaterLive] Miracle from the Sky.. 


Hank radioed Squad 51 when they were a half mile
away from the high rise ivory brick office building
where their incident was taking place, to begin 
dark and silence mode. The complex was located
in the clover leaf of the busy expressway and already,
cars were honking and slowing down to gawk at
the sight of the crowd milling about and pointing upwards
towards a floor much higher than the speedway ramp. 
"DeSoto, Gage. Pull up out of sight in the park on the east 
side of the building. Take off your helmets when you go meet 
with PD. We don't know yet if this young man gets agitated
at seeing uniforms or not. Err to the side of caution.
E 51'll station down the block with Ladder 9 until
you give the word."

##10-4, Cap.## replied Johnny using the radio mike
from the dashboard. The falling rain was easing into
a fine chilly mist that muted details of the top stories
of the building.

A new transmission cut in. ## Station 51, this is Seven Mary Four
from the sixth floor. I'm moving the mother in close enough
on the boy's level to begin a talk using a megaphone. We can
only see him through a plate glass window that extends out the
whole dimensions of this room. Suite 615. He's located in a 
recessed corner under the horizontal flag pole on the south side. 
Stay your personnel until we get a good feel about this.##

Captain Stanley quickly scooped up the engine's mic.
"Seven Mary Four, Engine 51. 10-4. Truck 9, hold your position 
until further notice but go ahead and enable the Eddison
to vertical on your side of the building. I want to give that
boy an option of climbing down by himself if necessary
once my men are up there. Looks like CHiP PD will give us 
an order to move in."

## Truck 9, Engine 51. We copy that. You'll have your access
route in five minutes.##

Cap nodded in satisfaction and waved over Kelly and Marco.
"Guys, go get belts and ropes. But keep under tree cover.
The fog layer between us and that boy could thin to clear 
at any time and we don't yet know how far the boy can
see from his perspective. Lopez, hand me the binoculars 
from the brush bag. I'm going around into the crowd to see
what I can see."

"Ok, Cap."

Meanwhile, Roy and Johnny had shed their helmets and donned
their non descript navy shirt jackets. They pushed their
way through the spectators to the front rotating doors and hurried
inside.They wasted no time using their fire keys to take over one 
of the public elevators. They quickly established a patch to the
two CHiPs up with the mother. Speaker mode allowed them
to overhear what the mother was saying while they rode up
to the sixth floor.

##Baby, daddy and I aren't mad at you. We just want you to come
back home. Please, move away from the edge, you're frightening
me..##

##Good!## came an angry shivering boy's voice full of rage.
##I'm sick and tired of all the doctors poking and prodding
me all the time. I'm sick of all the needles! I'm sick of all the tests
that I know won't make me live longer. You said it yourself, ma. My
brain tumor's cancer and I read in my chart that it's 
gonna kill me before Christmas. So why wait? I don't want those
terrible pains to come back again.## screamed the distraught boy.
## So, I'm gonna jump before that happens..## he sobbed, almost
hoarse and shaking with cold under the falling light rain.

##Eric. You're scared. You can't possibly understand everything
that was written in there. I can't, and I'm a librarian. But I know
enough. You won't feel anymore headaches. Doctor Early
says that he can operate and turn off those parts of your brain
that will try to do that when the tumor gets big. Did you read
his notes about it? He said he'd perform a craniotomy with Doctor
Alfans to-##

The tone of the boy's voice through Roy and Johnny's HT as
the elevator rose agonizingly slow, grew quieter. "Enough mom!
I want to die now and get it over with. I hate what's in my head.
It's eating me away bit by bit...*sob* I'm starting to feel like
I'm no longer me anymore." he whimpered, sagging down 
the dripping brick outside and he started crying violently
with a bowed head bent over his knees.

Eric's mother fell into a tortured silence and her muffled 
crying was the first thing the two paramedics heard in person 
when they entered the suite office, cautiously avoiding windows.

A CHiP named Frank Poncherello motioned them to a marble
pillar out of the boy's direct range of sight. Roy and Johnny ducked 
behind a desktop and scrambled over to the policeman's position.
Johnny asked him, whispering. "Is there a removable pane of glass
around here anywhere?"

Ponch shook his head as he guardly watched Kelly and Lopez
enter the room as stealthily as Gage and DeSoto had with
the rappelling gear. "Nah. He picked the CEO suite to fall apart
in on purpose. This is his dad's office. He knew there wouldn't
be an easy way for potential rescuers to reach him from here."

Roy asked, "Where's Eric's dad now?" as he looked around
for another man in the room who wasn't PD, trying to keep out of 
sight.

A blonde CHiP name tagged Jon Baker replied. "In Houston. He flew
out on an emergency flight for a trip this morning. Guess he forgot
to tell his wife and son where he was headed to."

"Nice time to forget.." said Johnny. "Sound's like that kid has borderline
altered himself into a crisis at finding out the bad news just at a time
when he needs his dad most. Brain cancer's a serious load." Then
he checked himself. "No offense, ma'am.." he addressed Eric's mother.
"I'm Johnny Gage of the Los Angeles County Fire Department. My partner,
Roy DeSoto and I, are paramedics."

"Oh no. Not paramedics... Eric will know you for who you are in seconds.
He had a seizure two months ago that began this awful nightmare and
two men like you came to treat him." her face twisted. "Please.. don't let 
my son see you... I beg you..." she pleaded, nearly hysterical.

Roy hung onto her shoulders.. "Shhh. Easy.. Keep your voice low
and try to calm down a bit. Your son needs you and the four of us are here
to help you help Eric, too, ok?  Please. Sit down right over here and get 
your thoughts worked out. We won't have to look at your son directly.
These two officers have already filled us in on exactly where he is
and how he's positioned on the ledge. So far, he's hugging the wall because
of the high height out there."

Johnny nodded, adding further encouragement. "He won't jump, maam. Not
if we don't agitate him. Depressed children his age have a hard time 
overcoming the survival instinct left over from early childhood long enough to
actually kill themselves. I know it sounds bad right now, but he's only asking for help
in the best way he can work it out right now.."

"Oh, g*d.." the mother sobbed, her knees gave way and Roy and Johnny
gripped her arms long enough to guide her down to sit on the cushions
of the office chair. "I can't take this right now. This is all surreal.."

Gage immediately bent on curbing her denial, before shock could set in
and cause her to topple in a psychogenic faint. They needed the mother's
voice of reason. "Now, Mrs. Benoit..." he said, reading the name plate sitting 
on the desk next to them. "Quit snowballing the situation here. You gotta pull yourself
together. Your son's wet, but he's not in any deadly danger. That ledge is 
over eight feet wide. It's not as narrow as you might think. My partner and I 
are very familiar with the buildings on this block. We use them for climbing 
and rescue practice with other fire stations all the time."

"You....do..?" she whispered.

"Yes. Here, drink this. Officer Poncherello got some coffee for you. Take
a few sips and then we'll begin talking to your son again, all right?"
Gage encouraged her. "He's scared but I know he'll listen carefully
to whatever you'll say next. Why wouldn't he? You're the only mother he's
got.." Johnny smiled at her. He dabbed away the worst of her tears with
a deftly snatched kleenix from a box near them. "And besides that, it's
freezing out there..." said Johnny teasingly, chattering his teeth as an unfeigned
chill washed through him.

Mrs. Benoit, briefly smiled bravely at the four men. "I'll hold out a blanket for
him.." she sniffed before another wave of crying gripped her. Officer Jon Baker 
slipped a second one for her around her shoulders and refilled the coffee cup 
that had splashed mostly empty, because her hands were trembling so strongly.

A crash from outside startled them all.

Jon Baker rushed to hug a wall and parted the rich venetian blinds to peer outside.
Benoit remained frozen in a horrid fear. "It's ok.. That was only some lightning. 
Eric's still nestled behind the gargoyle, hanging onto its lower feet as tight as 
he can. There's no way he's gonna let go. Roy, Johnny. I think that thunder 
petrified him. He's gripping the stone so hard, his fingernails are bleeding..."

"They are?" Gage said, rising up from his crouch in quick discovery. He
dashed over to Baker and hugged the wall enough to see the sign for
himself. "Roy.. looks like he's catatonic.. maybe even pre seizure stage."

"We gotta get out there..." DeSoto qualmed.

Kelly burst into the room, keeping low. "No problem. The office next door
has a window washer's access pane and it's open. That's how Eric climbed
outside. One of his shoes is lying on the carpeting underneath it."

"Let's go..." Roy said. "Mr. Poncherello..." DeSoto said, reading Frank's
nametag. "Stay with Mrs. Benoit. Stretch her out on the floor on her side
if she passes out on you, ok. We'll have O2 up here in a jiffy.."

Ponch nodded.

DeSoto lifted his HT to his mouth as he and Johnny followed Kelly and
Marco to the open window and were belted up. "Cap.. have someone
bring up all the medical gear. We just got our big break and we're taking it."

Jon Baker barked into his own radio link to the engine. "Captain. The
ladder's a sure thing real soon. Send it on up.."

##10-4..##

Chet frowned. "Catatonia? How long will that last?"

"That depends on how far along Eric's tumor's progressed. Could
be for minutes... or for just a few seconds.  It's ok to hurry.." Roy replied
calmly, but impatiently.

Marco whipped his hands away from the lifebelts now around 
the two paramedics' waists. "Done.."

"Go, man. We already got ya anchored!" Kelly turned to Jon Baker.
"Officer Baker? Come wrap Roy and Johnny's ropes around ya,
Lopez and I will take the weight if they fall but you'll be great as
our secondary brake. Put your belt gloves back on." he said, pulling
on his own fire ones.

Roy and Johnny both got confident ready nods from the two engine 
firemen so they inched their way out onto the concrete ledge that was
one cornerstone pillar away from Eric's dripping perch. 

Gage was the second one to step outside. He was immediately soaked
to the skin from the driving rain but he never hesitated. Roy looked back
through the access window. "Kelly! Is the boy's rope attached to a third
belt yet? We'll try to get that around him first before we do anything else.."

"Yeah, anticipated ya!..." Chet shouted back. "Here!" and his tan gloves
lifted out to Roy, a neatly coiled line and a life belt already cinched 
down to a small, child sized diameter.

DeSoto peeked around the corner of the end column, but Eric still hadn't
moved or blinked. Slowly, Roy pulled out his bandage scissors from his 
hip holster and he crept one glove around the edge of the pillar
blindly, until he felt soft flesh, giving way. He quickly withdrew them but
there was no reaction at all to his nudge. "Eric?" he whispered carefully 
over the mist.

There was no reply or any sound of voluntary movement that showed 
the boy had even heard him.

"Is he zoned?" Gage whispered.

"Yeah..." Roy nodded.

The two paramedics flew into business, hollering for a pair of 
rig stretchers over their HTs once Eric's safety rope was
securely snubbed off.

The boy did not resist them and continued to stare straight
ahead, emotionally reacting to nothing. He stayed rigid necked
and limb stiff, the whole way back through the office window on
Roy's shoulder.

---------------------------------------------------------------

It took only seven minutes for the four firemen to get both Mrs. Benoit
and the boy into the waiting ambulance. Hank Stanley gave
the departing rig a couple of hand slaps to the back to send it
and Roy on its way.

Hank turned to Johnny and the others, and said.....

----------------------------------------------------------------
Photo: Suicide kid on ledge. 

Photo: CHiPs on scene.

Photo: Cap Roy Johnny talk at fire in day turnout.

Photo: Chet high up, watching. 

Photo: Stoker Johnny Roy doing ropes prep highup. 

Photo: Roy Gage with witness, pointing. 

Photo: Gage speaking with a heartsick, seated mom. 

*********************************************************
From:  "lafddispatcher" <lafddispatcher@y...> 
Date:  Mon Mar 21, 2005  11:01 am 
Subject:  Gift From Heaven...


"..I think we owe the Big Man upstairs a whole lotta thanks,
don't you?"

"Heck, yeah..." said Gage. "I'll never complain about
a rainy rescue day, ever again..."

-----------------------------------------------------------------------

Photos:  None.
 
**************************************************
From :  Jeff Seltun <finiterider@yahoo.com> 
Sent :  Sunday, March 27, 2005 3:19 PM 
Subject :  [EmergencyTheaterLive] In for a Mile.. 



Cap was dozing in the black vinyl rec room arm chair.

Just about everyone else, was either nodding off
on the couch or onto their dinner plates while the
droning effect of the late afternoon rain on the roof
of the vehicle bay, lulled them into sleeping 
drowsiness.

Only Charlie the mechanic seemed invigorated by
the continuing dreary weather. He had both bay doors
wide open to further dry the paint on the squad 
from his repair job and he had Boot as a very eager
audience, for company.

"What's the matter, boy? Are the guys too inanimate for you?
Heh. Firemen are like that." Charlie told the shaggy dog.

Boot intently wagged his tail energetically from where
he sat with a screwdriver in his mouth. Every time the older
mechanic made eye contact, he wagged it ferociously.

"One minute, they're like you'd expect them. Running right
for you, doing the work they're hired for. But then, after only a little
atmospheric effect from mother nature, they slip into hibernation
mode and drop whereever they are. I know, fella, it's boring.
Seems like every firehouse I come to is like that when it starts
to rain." Charlie explained rubbing red paint dotted fingers to scratch 
an itch on his nose. "One of these days, I'm gonna make 
a short call to Headquarters, suggesting that an afternoon
communications check would be a good idea. Right around
mid shift. That way you mascots'll benefit and have firemen
to play with who're actually awake and functioning at
least part of the day." he chuckled.

Boot whined in agreement.

"Say, didn't I see some dog toys in the mop cupboard in a box
with your name on it?" Charlie addressed Boot.

Boot angled his head quizzically, still drooling around the
screwdriver he dutifully held in his jaws.

"Yeah, I know I did. Hang on a minute and I'll go get it out for
ya. Maybe it'll have something in there for you to do besides
getting crumbs of companionship second hand from me. It's not
like I can pet any part of you right now. I'm all gooey."

Charlie opened the wooden cupboard on the squad side of
the garage with a carefully clean rag, and almost fell over the mechanic's 
dolly, the same one that had injured Gage the night before. "Geesh! Doesn't 
anybody use the wall cradle I made for this thing that's in the closet?! 
This is gonna kill somebody some day... Stupid firemen.." he grumbled.

Boot barked in concert, giving the offending apparatus a firm
bite as he helped Charlie lift it up into where it ought to be.

Charlie reached down and pulled out Boot's toy box. Inside was
a few dusty rawhide bones, a tennis ball or two, an old CPR baby
full of bite marks and some rope shreds, well frayed and chewed.
Charlie lifted out the obsolete training baby. "Is this your retriever
toy? So that's how they get you to go find people who're lost.
I've always wondered how you do that." 

But then, to the left of Boot's box, Charlie spotted one marked,
'For Tour Kids'. Inside, there were a few interactive games. One
box, Boot instantly glommed onto, sniffing eagerly and whining.
"Oh ho!.. So you're a dyed to the wool Twister fan. I think this one
should belong in your box, Boot." he laughed. Charlie lifted out the
game, and blew the dust off its cover. "Say, I got an idea. 
If ya bark over this game loudly enough in the kitchen, I'll bet you'll 
get some signs of life outta those lazy lugs in a jiffy."

"Bark! " said Boot.

Charlie chuckled. "Here, boy." he said, handing out the Twister
game's box. "I'll trade you. Now go get the blood moving in
your buddies while I finish up out here.. And if they ask, it wasn't
my idea...." he whispered to the station mutt, taking the Phillips
tool from between his teeth and substituting the Twister box.

Boot lifted his head high, counterbalancing the tangle limbs game
in his teeth and he eagerly padded away into the kitchen at
a puppy like gallop.

-----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

SMACK!!  went the game on the tile floor right in the middle of
the cluster of the snoozing gang.

All six of them jolted from their rainfall induced naps with satisfying
alacrity at the noise. Boot barked, hastening their progress to wakefulness.

He set a paw on the Twister game pointedly.

Chet mumbled sleepily, rubbing his eyes. "Geez, Boot. If ya wanted
to play you could've got only one of us awake, a little more gently
than.. hey.. what's this?"

Gage coughed, picking up his head from the kitchen table. "Looks
like the board game we use when the school kids come here on tours."
he yawned.

"Really? I didn't even know we had this.." Chet said, pulling it away
from Boot and opening it up. "I remember this game. I used to worm
my way into victory against my sisters all the time." he said, unrolling
the floor playing mat. "Smells like our old game used to, too. Like an 
attic.."

"Bark!" Boot insisted, nosing the color spinner until it moved around
its circled panel.

Captain Stanley blearily rose, messy haired, to the stove to pour
out six mugs of fortifying coffee for all of them. "Sorry, Boot, there's
no tours scheduled today. It's Saturday, pal. Not a kid in sight."

"Bark!" Boot yapped again, pulling on a corner of the game mat Chet
had unfolded in his lap pointedly.

"Hey, Boot! Knock it off! You're gonna rip it.." Marco said.
"Then where would we be for the kids?"

"Bark!" Boot parked himself in the middle of the Twister mat and 
started a staring match at each of the gang's eyes in turn as they 
looked at him in amusement.

Stoker scratched his stubbly chin. "I wonder where he found that?"

Roy snorted, "The same place he found the dolly that KO'd Johnny
last night. The mop cupboard."

"Bark!" boomed Boot.

Chet narrowed his eyes. "Hey guys, I think Boot's issuing a challenge
or two here. There was definitely a note of insult embedded in that last 
bark."

Gage scoffed. "Oh, come off it, Chet. You're hearing things. Boot's the
nicest dog in the world. He wouldn't--"

"Bark! Bark! Woof!" Boot said, looking right at Johnny. 

Gage nearly spit out the mouthful of coffee he was swallowing and he
spun around, not believing what his ears were telling him. His
jaw dropped open.


"See?" Chet gestured at Boot. "That was pretty colorful language for
a dog, wouldn't you agree?"

"Yeah..." Gage said incredulously, wanting to doubt his ears, but
finding that he couldn't.

Captain Stanley grinned. "If he wants to play, then we'll play with him.
Nobody's gonna get any sleep around here with him making that
kind of racket."

"Woof!"

"...and I don't think he'll shut up until we play how he wants to play.."
Cap continued.

Marco made a face. "Come on, Cap. You've got to be kidding.. Us
playing Twister?"

"Why not?" shrugged Cap. "Consider it a modified fitness exercise.
Come on. I'll join in, too. The faster we humor Boot, the faster we
can get back to napping..." Hank said. "Get the drift?"

"Ok. Fine." Kelly said. "But let's liven up the pot a little for the winner.
Let's say, the winner doesn't have to patrol the yard after Boot's bathroom
breaks for....an entire week."

"No, make it longer.." said Stoker.

"How about for an entire month?" Roy suggested.

"You're on.." Kelly said.

"Wait a minute, wait a minute.. What's in it for Boot?" Marco asked.
"This game was his idea..."

The gang fell quiet, their faces falling out of their grins in a hard 
moment of consideration. 

"Bark!" Boot said, looking at the silver SCU tones speaker grill on 
the wall.

"Oh,.. now that's worth playing for.." Cap understood. "He wants to
play for a ride along. Ok, pal. I'm dealing you in..." he said to Boot,
picking up his paw and shaking it. "Let's play..."

Mike Stoker smiled. "If this works out, maybe we can use Boot's game
to wager away chores for the future.."

"Don't tempt me.." Hank grinned. "I'm beginning to warm to the idea.."

Gage frowned. "Awww, Cap. I'm still stiff and sore from my fall. I can't do
this now.." he complained.

"Are you telling your captain that you're too hurt to work today?"
Hank glowered. "I can always arrange that talk with the Chief about the
little field trip you took in the garage last night.."

"Playing's fine, Cap..." Johnny said, shooting out of his chair. "There's
always Tylenol available afterwards.."

"Thought so. Now, who's gonna spin first?" Hank asked.

"Bark!" Boot said.

"Ok.. Boot's got it. Everybody on your border marks. Watch for
it.." Captain Stanley ordered, kicking off his shoes.

Roy immediately gaped. "Cap.. that's not fair."

"What's not fair..?" Hank asked, cracking a few joints as he
stretched out the sleepy creaks from his bones.

"You. You're wearing white socks today..." Gage continued.

Cap's face immediately washed self conscious but just as
quickly, turned all captain. "I was...running late today. I grabbed
the only clean pair handy. My wife was too busy getting
dinner on the table last night to remember the laundry."

The rest of the gang frowned, unappeased.

"Ok, ok. The next time you guys forget black socks, I promise 
not to yell. But I'll only excuse ONE time.." Cap punctuated.

The rest of the gang settled into serious competitive play poses,
waiting for Boot's nosed spin.

"Blue!" Chet shouted aloud.

Six socked feet shot out,.. and the game was on.

Out in the garage, Charlie the mechanic smiled as he worked
on polishing the squad's chrome around the new fender he
had rebuilt.  The noises of tusseling, wrestling firefighters mingled
with the sounds of Boot's happy barks. "Maybe I should go into business 
as a pet psychologist as a side job. I'm getting pretty good at it if I do 
say so myself." he grinned broadly.

------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Photo: Charlie the fire mechanic, working under a hood.

Photo: Boot, with a screwdriver in his mouth.

Photo: Johnny Gage, sleeping elbow propped on the table.

Photo: Cap, frowning at his coffee cup.

Photo:  The gang and Boot, playing a Twister game.

******************************************************************************
From :  Cassidy Meyers <killashandrarey@hotmail.com> and
             Patti Keiper < pattik1@hotmail.com> 
Sent :  Tuesday, March 29, 2005 12:34 AM 
Subject :  The Fall of an Icon.. 
   
 
The guys were hard at play when the Motorola Quicktones
for a medical rescue sounded from the station control unit grille. 

The guys froze in place as the first three notes filled the air.

Cap sighed. "It's not us..." he said, from underneath Roy's waist
on the Twister board. He meant to win and he tried to concentrate on
not falling onto his butt and into the same disqualified status
that Marco and Johnny had already fallen onto. Boot was still
hopping gamely on his hind legs on the proper colors shown
by the spinner. ::It's astonishing that he knows how to play.:: thought
Cap as the speakers played out the SCU's for the call that wasn't
gonna be theirs.

As soon as the familiar voice came on, giving the address, Boot 
startled in unexpected alarm and fell over onto his back in his 
haste to rush underneath the speaker to begin the same barking 
vigil that he had done for 51's earlier child suicide call.

"You threw your game, you crazy mutt! Why'dja do that? You
were winning.." Chet moaned as he picked up the spinner and spun
out yet another color for the rest, still arms and legs tangled
on the Twister game's playing mat. "Yellow!" he said. 

He tried to pet Boot's back with a free hand, but the dog 
would have none of it, barking mightily up at the ceiling
again once he had dodged the Irish fireman's grope. Chet gave up
trying to calm Boot down and said, "Hey, Cap. He's doing it
again.."

"Doing what?" Hank grunted from his very difficult body pretzel
he was currently preserving while the others moved onto
yellow touches around him with either fingers or toes, or
a chin, in Mike Stoker's case.

"Fussing over another rescue.." Kelly frowned.

"He is? Why? Did 18's draw a kid call like ours?" Gage asked.

"I don't know yet. Sam's not done assigning it out.." Chet shrugged.
He paused with the game's spinner, as the run filled out verbally.

##Squad 18, difficulty breathing. 1710 North Barren Street. 1710 North
Barren Street. Cross street  An-Annex Way. Time out : 18:10. *Spap.*##

Gage's eyes widened, "Was that a sound skip?" the paramedic
wondered. "Hey, Cap. I think the rain's effecting the P.A. system."

"Never mind the P.A. system.. I'm worried about my muscular system!"
strained Cap. "Chet, start spinning or I--"

"Green!" Kelly gulped, giving the grille and the still vaguely whining Boot
a glance or two as he complied.

The new switch did everybody in and the whole contorted firegang fell
over in a balled heap, wiping out any hope of having a winner in the game.

Cap lay where he had fallen.. "Oww.. I may never move again.."

Roy, still leg trapped beneath his lanky captain, grinned. "You may
have to if we get a run just like they d---"

The tones pealed out. This time, the three notes spelled out their signal.
And then two more, a complete station call. Chet and Marco helped the 
others to their feet and all the firemen hastened into their shoes as they 
rushed for the garage. 

Charlie was already holding out the squad's keys..
"Aren't you lucky I planned ahead and used fast drying automobile paint.."
he said to Roy, handing the sweaty paramedic, his helmet as DeSoto 
climbed into the open driver's door. 

Roy smiled, "Looks beautiful..!" he said warmly. "Isn't that right, Johnny?
You can't even tell where our hairy collision hit anymore." he teased. 

"Don't you mean furry collision?" Charlie blinked.

Gage did his best trying to sink into the passenger seat. "OOoo, Roy,
quit it. He'll figure it o--"

## Station 51. Unknown type rescue. 4100 Upton Lane. On the college
campus. 4100 Upton Lane. Cross--ss S-Street University Boulevard.
Time out : 18:13. *Spap.*

Hank answered using the radio mic from the Ward. "L.A., 10-4. Station 51 is
responding, KMG 365."

Johnny dug a finger into his ear after he put his helmet and belt on.
"Ugh..H." he shuddered. "Hey Charlie.. can you check out the station
radio feed lines? They still sound like they're shorting out.."

Charlie grabbed a Boot who was once again growing wild, barking 
and jumping up the county wide wall map in his haste and want
to climb upwards. "I'm a mechanic, not a gaffer!"

"Yeah? Well, all right, all right.." shouted Gage over the sound of
the pouring rain out front and the start of the sirens Roy had flicked on.
"How about getting inside Boot's head a little and finding out why
he's going crazy.."

"He's probably mad because you're ditching the game I suggested
to him.." Charlie grinned, jogging alongside the squad Roy was
pulling forward.

"What?"

"Never mind.." Charlie chuckled. "Just go! I'll see what I can do.."


Station 51 roared out of the dry, lighted vehicle bay and into
a driving full dusk rainstorm.

Charlie watched them disappear into traffic and out of sight.

Thinking of Boot's current state, he slammed down the autoshut
garage door button early and then he turned to deal with the things
Gage had mentioned. "Ok, there, fella. You squirming because of
an ultra high squeal on the communications band? Maybe I oughta
go climb the station's roof to go check it out.."

-----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------


Gage squinted in the rain, fully aware that Roy and he were a visual
vanguard for the engine, following closely behind. In his hands, he
had a road map. "SoCal campus.. Yep. This is it. 4100 is not
administrative services, nor the library."

"It's gotta be a college house..." DeSoto decided, turning on the wind
shield wipers to their maximum setting in an attempt to see through
the dark and the deluge of the long duration summer rainstorm. 

"Ok, turn left here.." indicated Johnny. "This leads to Fraternity Row.
And that, bisects Upton."

Roy leaned on the hooter so a whoop of siren split the air to get
people's attention. Following suit, the Ward blasted its air horn
a few times.

Lights came up porches and one such porch suddenly disgorged a
young man who was wet and dripping. What made him stand out
was that he immediately ran out towards Station 51 in the street,
without caring to stay dry.

"There!.. At Pi Kappa Alpha.." Gage pointed.

"I see him..." Roy pulled over to the curb quickly and soon,
the engine did, too.

Cap hurried out into the rain after letting L.A. know that they had
arrived on scene. He snatched his walkie talkie and tucked
it protectively in a plastic bag from his turnout's pocket.

Hank rushed to the college aged student's side and shouted
over the rain pelting onto his fire helmet. "What's the problem?
A fire?"

"N--no sir.. This way. Hurry!" and before Cap could stop him,
the light blue clad young man ran back over the slippery lawn
towards the front door in between the greek columns of the frat
house and inside.

"Wait a minute!" Cap shouted. But the young man was already gone.
He sighed. "Roy! Johnny! Guess we bring ALL the medical gear in.
I didn't get any details at all from him! The only thing I learned is
that we aren't dealing with a fire call."

"Right, Cap.." Roy shouted.

"Kelly, you go grab the adult male sized spine board...."

Chet hurried to get it, flipping up his coat collar against the heavy rainfall 
that was all but drowning the grass.

"And some flashlights! It'll be full dark any minute!" roared Hank
after the glimmery shadow Chet made against the rain glittery
red flashing light sprayed engine.

Marco flung open the compartments Gage and DeSoto hadn't already
gotten to and snatched up the defibrillator and the heavy white 
trauma dressing case. 

"Let's go..." Cap said, motioning them all forward at a run. He lifted
up his encapsulated radio. "L.A., we're going inside. Stand by.."

##S-Standing by...##

In their haste, no one realized the vocal distortion was still there
over the wire.

--------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

The gang ran into the house, laden with gear and immediately came
face to face with a slew of college kids, partying, with alcohol. 
Amused glances and laughs at the sight of the fire department in
their midst made everyone from the fire station, but Cap, feel 
vaguely defensive.

"Where's the fire, guys?" said one drunk young lady.
"Did you come to the wrong address?" she giggled.

Pushing her gently aside, Cap sought out the young man who had
first appeared on the porch. It was easy finding him since a wet
trail of footprints showed dark on the tan shag carpeting in
front of them. "Excuse me.. pardon me.." he said, moving around
the kids.."This is an emergency... please.. Move out of the way.."
he complained.

Slowly, the crowd thinned, but the loud disco party music, continued.

Grasping the radio tightly to his ear, Cap kept tabs on the updates
coming from L.A.

##L.A., Squad 18. What's your ETA to your incident?##

##Squad 18, L.A. Our estimated time of arrival is ten minutes. We've
encountered flooded streets and have taken an alternate route.##
said the paramedic's voice over Cap's HT.

::Terrific. I wouldn't doubt that the whole city will bog down at
some point or another tonight..:: Cap sighed.

Soon, he spotted his quarry over the boogeying bodies
jiving to Shadow Dancing by the BeeGees. "Hey! Mister!
Slow down.. We're coming!"

Hank firmly pointed out to Gage and Roy, the bead covered
kitchen doorway. It was the brightest room in the whole house.

The gang shoved their way through. Beyond, a deck door
was already reopened into the night with a fresh trail of
soggy footprints evident on the rust colored tiles of the floor. 

Another set of muddy ones traced up an exterior white painted
staircase to a second floor, while the first set lead to
the yard. "He's over here!" said a rain noise covered voice.
"Please! You gotta hurry! He's dying!"

Cap froze at the forking intersection of the two sets of
footprints, aiming his flashlight down and peering into
the dark, even as the violent downpour was slowly erasing
them. "Split up. Three and three. HT when you find something! Marco, 
Stoker,..With me upstairs.. The rest of you, check out the yard. 
I can't tell where our witness's voice is coming from, so we better
check out both ways pronto.." he ordered, water dripping from
his helmet rim. "Each take an oxygen tank!"

The firemen split up according to plan.

Gage looked back briefly as he ran after Chet and Roy
and he could just make out Cap and the others entering
an upper story bedroom through the white door at the top
of the outer stair in the beginnings of a medical victim
search. "Ok..I've heard of panicking witnesses, but this
is a little ridiculous. Roy, where is he?"

Before his partner could answer, there was another shout.
"Hurry.. We're by the pool! We can't find Derrick! We
think he fell in!"

Gage and DeSoto and Kelly ran for all they were worth. 
As they did so, they peeled off their overcoats, trading
the medical gear between hands as they pelted towards
the night lit pool garden just ahead as they shed their
excess weight.

Johnny's teeth began to chatter violently the instant the
cool night deluge soaked down to his skin.  Kelly and
Roy were gear laden arrows ahead of him. The two men
set down the squad's equipment hastily and began a leaning 
search of the pool, trying to see around the raindrop craters 
pocking the night dark water.

DeSoto improvised and pulled out his flashlight, aiming its
bright spear of illumination deep into the pool. "Can't you
turn the lights on out here?"

"No..." said the young man before them. "The storm's cut
off the power out here! That's why we all went inside. Derrick
said he'd follow us in a half an hour ago. But no one's seen
him since. He was pretty drunk. And I'm scared. I called you
when I thought I heard a loud splash. I thought instantly that 
Derrick probably fell in.." quavered the water dripping 
staggering student.

Roy saw that the young man wasn't too sober himself.

Gage spoke into his HT, using his helmet as an umbrella
for his radio. "Cap! By the pool downslope- south. Possible ETOH
and drowning! We're still searching! Look for the pool lights!"

##On our way!## Hank instantly replied, barely audible in the 
fury of the storm.

Roy suddenly shouted. "I think I see him. In the deep end!"

Johnny peeled off shoes and ditched his radio under his helmet
onto a patio table and he dove into the frigid under lit pool water.

Roy and Chet could barely see Gage swimming under the rain
torn surface. The side lights flickered eerily as Gage swam
past them.

Then a reflection of another submerged flashlight lit up
a man shaped form in clothing colors sitting head up and vertical
off the bottom.

Chet grimaced. "Fatality..man.. Oh, geesh." But his hands
worked fast to set up the resuscitator mask to the demand
valve off the upright oxygen tank. "Are we too late?"

Roy didn't answer, and immediately sank both arms into
the water to intercept the drowned student Gage would push 
into his hands. "Grab my belt, Chet. I'll haul him out to ya!"

Stiff cold hands appeared in between Roy's gloves
and soon, Kelly and Roy were leaning away from the pool's
edge in a desperate pull backwards to free Derrick from 
underneath the water.

Roy and Chet had the limp form out onto the poolside lawn
and quickly log rolled onto a back when Gage suddenly
shouted angrily up at them. "G*d d*mn it! It's all a prank!
I should've figured. It's H*ll Week this week. These guys
pulled a fast one on us, and good.."

"What?!" Chet and Roy scrambled apart from their 
rope pull tumbled positions and to their hands and 
knees to crawl up their victim's torso towards his face.


"It's a dummy!" Johnny said, exiting the water powerfully.

Chet and Roy looked down.

Black plastic eyes met their own. And teeth that had never
smiled, winked back in the wavering flashlight's glow.

The panicky witness suddenly burst out into amused laughter
and a multitude of other tipsy students came out of the surrounding
bushes to point fingers and laugh at the joke that they had
successfully pulled on the firefighters.

It was into this scene that Cap and the others arrived but Gage
slammed an irritated hand into Hank's jacketted shoulder as
he grabbed up shoes, radio and hat. "There's nothing here,
Cap. The sh*the*ds dumped a manikin into the pool for us
to find.."

"They did what?!" 

"Forget it!" Roy's eyes steamed under his helmet. "We're
still closer to that trouble breathing call than Squad 18 is. Let's
go answer it."

"Awww NUTS!" Cap roared into the raging sky. "I'm gonna
prosecute this prank call to the max! Chet take pictures
and rush your butt to the engine! Now!" Hank said, dragging the
O2 apparatus by a handle violently. It clattered almost more loudly
than the lightning and thunder beginning around them.

Kelly melted into the rain to get the evidence.

Gage radio'ed out. "L.A., Station 51. We're now available and
can respond to Squad 18's call. ETA three minutes!"

Gasping, the six firemen trucked around the huge fraternity house,
slipping occasionally on the wet grass as they hurried back
to their flashing trucks still stabbing the night with their red fiery glow.

A clear channel met their ears. They could hear phones ringing in
the background. But the L.A. voice didn't return hail them.

Johnny repeated his callout. "L.A. Station 51. Do you copy?
We're taking 18's incident!"

Still no reply.

Breathing hard, the exhausted angry gang piled into the engine and
squad after throwing all the equipment back into their stows. 

Roy and Johnny tossed their soggy fire fighting jackets back into the 
squad's sunken roof space in between the yellow air bottles and climbed 
inside wearily.

DeSoto threw the squad in drive and reengaged her siren.

The engine was only seconds slower to accomplish the same.

Roy hefted the CB mic. "Maybe the rain got into your HT.. L.A.
This is Squad 51. Do you read? What's the exact house 
address of Squad 18's dyspnea case?"

Again, only silent but strangely clear air met the question.

Then a new voice crackled into the frequency.. ##Break. Break. Break! 
Squad 51. Battalion Seven in Roving Unit Delta Nine. 
I'm now assuming ultimate command of all emergency communications
traffic. Rampart Hospital has just reported a complete failure of all 
base to paramedic radio sends from L.A. in Blue One. We're assuming 
the main repeater tower in that service area has been fully lightning 
compromised or knocked down by a mud slide.  I've routed Squad 45 
to cover 18's call. I want your station to 10-19 immediately to Headquarters.
Switch your radio frequency to Carson 154.0700 TAC 21; BLUE  1 and
turn your HTs to South County & Catalina Island channel 470.5625. Respond
immediately to the COMMAND & CONTROL DIVISION at 1320 N. Eastern 
Avenue and check it out. Do you copy?##

Roy gasped. " We're ordered Code 3 to L.A. Headquarters?" He gave
a shudder of horror.

"Yeah. I know what you mean." Johnny whispered, shivering from
the cold water soaking his uniform. 

Hank Stanley's firm voice shot out of the squad's speakers, making
Roy and Johnny jump. ##Station 51. Battalion Seven. 10-4. Our 
estimated ETA is....six minutes!##

DeSoto, scared out of his mind, punched the gas as hard as he could
in order to just get there before nothing left remained of his strength
and will to do the job.

----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------


Truck to truck, Hank's tight voice was calming to his men, ##Roy? Johnny..
Spell out the headcount at L.A. ##

Gage took the mic from Roy and just let him drive, white knuckled,
through the torrid storm flashing around them. "Cap,..There
are two towers: One is the primary, and one is on hot standby. 
There are ten call taker positions,  and 9 radio operator positions
for a t-total of nineteen personnel.. For electrical and fire risks, 
the main primary tower runs through one supervisor console and one
spare radio console used for training. That power line threads
through, I think, fourteen mountaintop UHF repeater sites 
simultaneously and then it dumps directly into Carson city residents'
power supply."

##Copy. Let's hope the building's intact..Stoker has our ETA in less
than one. If there's no smell of smoke, go for an immediate in.##

"We got it, Cap.." Roy said dryly, finally finding his voice once more.
::Oh, my G*d. What's happened there?::

----------------------------------------------------------------------------

L.A.'s immaculate, earthquake defended, elevated building was 
intact, but completely dark.

Roy rushed inside the main occupied office suites and started counting
people. One supervisor even abandoned his attempts at restoring
his radio station to demand questions of Roy about the rainstorm outside
and the possible damage taken by the EMS communications grid.

Roy ignored him. "Is everybody ok?" He didn't wait for an answer.
"I assume because you're all working that there isn't a fire going on
anywhere..?"

Two feminine heads shook in the negative. "What's the matter, 51?
Why are you here? We think we've figured out what the problem is.
Main power's out but the backup generator's working just fine. 
So far, I've isolated that your controller's station three's console is still 
reading as open but it's either incapable of or not responding to any 
incoming transmissions..."

Roy hissed irritatedly at her, pushing up his helmet as he spun
around in the emergency battery lit room. 
"Eighteen.. I'm only seeing eighteen... Who's missing?"

"What?" said the gray balding haired retired firefighter supervisor
trying to stay in contact with all of Los Angeles's Battalion Chiefs
via short wave radio. "We've only fourteen repeater towers in operation
this month.." he said, mistaking the count for towers and not people.

DeSoto, threw up his hands and ignored him and the others, and he left,
beginning a room to room search for trouble. "Johnny,.. no fire." he said
into the newly adjusted frequency on HT. "Power's on backup. One 
person's missing from what I can tell."

##Any ideas on where that person is?## Gage shouted into his talkie.

"Working on it.." gasped Roy, opening doors and casing each room
carefully with his flashlight, including the floor and each room's break 
or bathroom areas.

Then he saw a sign in the dark. Controller Room Three.

DeSoto kicked down the door, and startled.

The radio console that filled most of the room was alighted with
normal functioning, but it was hideously sprayed with blood from
a man in a tan communications uniform still seated in a chair 
and sprawled on top of it.

Roy let out a small cry. "I found him. Unconscious with non-specific
head bleeding! Controller Room Three! Stand by for his status!" he 
wheezed with effort into his HT.

##Hang on, Roy. We've got all the gear coming!## Hank encouraged
DeSoto.


Pulling off his fire gloves, Roy rocked the man's head and neck backwards
in a spine protective line along his jacket sleeve to reveal the face of 
a very familiar dark skinned man in his late thirties who had gushing blood 
oozing out of eyes, nose, ears and mouth. 

DeSoto's world reeled.

::Oh, no.:: "Sam...Sam Lanier? Can you hear me?"  
::It's a burst aneurysm..Cerebral..:: said a tiny paramedic voice in Roy's 
head. 

Unbidden, his fingers felt for a pulse at Sam's gory neck even as he bent 
over his bloody nose and mouth to listen for breathing. Sam's red obscured,
half lidded eyes gaped up at Roy, one grossly dilated and huge. 
But the other, immediately shrank under Roy's trembling flashlight beam.

"Guys get in here! On the double! I've got no carotid with positive pupillary
reaction." DeSoto yelled into his radio.

His stationmates' quick replies went unheard by Roy. The numb, still rain dripping
paramedic carefully stretched out Sam's small frame onto the floor and started 
aggressive resuscitation efforts. ::Oh, m*ther of G*d. Is this what Boot sensed 
coming?:: He sobbed as he worked. "Oh, Sam.. I'm so sorry.. 
We didn't know you were having a stroke. No one paid close enough 
attention." he whispered as hot tears of grief ran down his muddy face.
::That wasn't an electronic distortion over the speakers during those calls, 
it was a stutter, a glaringly obvious pre-warning sign!:: his mind roared at him. 
 
Roy barely registered the fact that the retired fire supervisor turned
chief dispatcher, took over Sam's chest compressions after he rushed 
into the room, once the older man received a set of shocking words from 
Cap over another frequency.

Mud mingled with blood as Roy tried to breathe life back into
Sam Lanier, the owner of the voice from L.A.H.Q. that he had heard 
every single day of his working career.

------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Photo: Boot in a close shot by the engine's wheel. 

Photo: Charlie and Roy working inside the squad's engine.

Photo: The squad with an open door in the pouring rain.

Photo: An opulent fraternity house at night.

Photo:  A manikin submersed in a pool.

Photo:  Battalion Seven talking into an HT at night.

Photo: L.A. Headquarters building sign.

Photo:  Sam Lanier, the dispatcher, at his work station in L.A. H.Q. 

Photo: Roy, bent down low with a grim expression, treating someone.

***********************************************************************************
From :  Roxy Dee <laterrapincabesa@hotmail.com> 
Sent :  Wednesday, March 30, 2005 3:06 PM 
Subject :  Will of the Creator.. 
 
 
Captain Stanley was led at a run to the room from which
Roy had radioed, by people from the front offices.

Johnny Gage was in front of him and he ducked into the dimly 
emergency battery lit room to swiftly kneel by his partner. He 
flipped open the defibrillator. "What do you got? Post effect
from convulsions? He's awfully banged up." he asked, seeing 
all the blood. But then Gage caught the shocked expression 
on Roy's face and did a double take while the gelled paddles 
in his hands charged up.

DeSoto's voice was very small as he nodded while stringing up 
a rapid oxygen line from the demand valve regulator.

"These wounds aren't crime inflicted, they're from a stroke. He's full of 
intracranial petechiae. Scleral,..oral. He's probably suffering from
a bad hemorrhagic attack." he said filling Sam's quiet chest with fast 
sets of mechanical breaths. "Guys, it's Sam." he said.

"Who?!" sputtered Cap. "...no..." he said with some pain
when he saw that it was true.

The gang startled uncomfortably as their nameless victim
suddenly turned into a dying friend, making them move 
faster physically, but each felt slower by the second inside,
mentally. Heart pain bit all of them deep and caught them
fully aware of sudden and utter misery.

All six from Station 51 unbalanced.

An unwelcome chill flooded Johnny and what Nakoma had 
predicted returned full force. :: "For every neglect, comes a price," 
the old tribal elder had said,.." In blood or in its ties..":: 
The memory made ice fill Johnny's veins with a nightmarish 
wash of horror and he felt his world recede into unreality.

"How long has he been down?" Cap asked his senior paramedic
trying to regain a grip on himself.

"I can't tell. His right eye shrank down a minute ago
but now both are blown." Roy reported, his voice cracking.
Sam's blood still stained one of his cheeks from doing mouth
to mouth.

Cap took over ventilations for Johnny to free him up
while Stoker took over Sam's CPR. Kelly was silent while
he dried Sam's skin of cold shocky wetness and applied EKG leads.
"I got these, Johnny. I'll stick em on.."

Mike Stoker coughed harshly from reaction and that earned him
a scathing reply from Hank."Stoker! Even it out so I've got a good 
pulse with compressions!" he said a little too sharply. 

"Ok..." Stoker replied instantly, the tone of his voice strangled with 
emotion.

Cap bit his lip. His look apologized immediately
to Mike and it was too quickly accepted.

Roy and Johnny never even heard the exchange.

"I'm reading course V-fib. I got 400 watts!" Gage reported
loudly in the pools of flashlights now directed down around 
them from a disbelieving Marco and others. His rain spattered
face lit up in the orange glow of the shock button. "I'm hittin' him!"

"Clear!" shouted Roy.

Sam's body convulsed with a shock. His limbs lifted oddly
on the right side and none did on the left despite the energy
delivery.

"Nothing..." said Gage listening with a stethoscope. He grabbed
a held out biophone receiver from Chet. "Rampart this is Squad 51. 
Do you read?..Come on..docs, answer me now.."  He hit the charge 
button a second time while Roy got out an endotrach tube and a 
laryngoscope. He left the unpeeled airway lying across Sam's
collarbones in preparation for the order.

Hank pulled off his helmet in between vents from the mask
quickly, to see better in the darkness. He looked up at Sam's
stunned co-workers. "Did anybody hear him complain about 
being sick today? Headaches? Nausea.."

The retired fire supe shook his head. "No. Not at all. At lunch
we were joking about how hungry he was. He had two steaks on
his plate. Oh, Sam.." the older man said. He knew full well how 
bad the situation was. "Do you think an aneurysm gave way?"

The paramedics didn't answer him. Legally, they couldn't.

The fire supe swallowed and didn't interfere with them again.

"1,.....2.....3.....400!" said Chet in a firm readout to Roy.

"Clear!" DeSoto answered. 

Again, Sam was defibrillated. This time, the monitor settled into
an ominous, wavery unresponsive flatline, despite the best
CPR delivery possible.

Gage got a returning hail. ##Go ahead, 51.## came Early's quiet
reply.

Johnny handed the phone over to Roy when his voice faltered
in emotion on the first word.

Cap's eyes flashed to Gage some immediate sympathy.

DeSoto's face grew emotionless to match his voice. "Rampart, 39 year
old male. Down from cardiac arrest caused by a cerebral blow out. 
We've defibrillated times two. No recapture. Showing a fine asystole
despite CPR and 100% O2. Noting a marked lack of reflexive neurological 
signs during countershocks on the left side of his body. Pupils fixed and 
dilated but I found his right eye responsive three minutes ago."

##10-4, 51. Attempt an IV of lactated Ringer's. Intubate with an 
endotracheal tube and administer two milligrams 1/10,000 epinephrine by 
ET. Then defibrillate again. Send me a strip.##

Roy complied. "ET. 2 mg's epinephrine through a pulmonary route 
and countershock. Stand by."

The powerful stimulant was added a minute later. DeSoto suffered a
pang. The airway had gone in picture perfect without the spasming
complications that should have been there as leftovers from Sam's 
recent grand mals. He glanced at Johnny. "It's in. Too easily." he said,
letting Johnny know Sam's absent deep neuro responses.

"Got my line, too." Johnny said, hitting the charger on the defib unit
almost too hard. "1....2..." he counted off, his voice audibly trembling.
"...3....400 watt seconds. Go, Roy..."

"Everybody clear!" said Roy, and they were. Sam's body lifted up
at the shock even less this time with muscular reaction, hardly any at all. 
All the gang's eyes widened into sharp denial when the flatline returned 
from its vertical dance upwards only to fall back to a new dead even level.

Stoker and Cap started in once again on their aggressive CPR. 

##I see it, 51. Administer 1.5 mg/kg Lidocaine intravenously, 51. Repeat 
every 3-5 minutes until a total of 3 mg/kg has been given. Also Bretylium 
5 mg/kg IV.# said Joe, reading the monitor. ## Counter shock one more 
time. If we don't get a rhythm, give another 2 mgs epinephrine by ET and 
follow it with a 20 mg normal saline fluid bolus. Give one amp sodium 
bicarb IV...##

Cap anticipated. "Marco, Kelly, go get a stokes. We're not waiting for
the ambulance guys to worm their way through the building in all this
dark. Move it quick."

"Faster than that, Cap..." Chet said, leaving the second oxygen tank
from the engine already cracked with a suction tube attached and laid out.
"Marco." he tossed to Lopez a spare lit flashlight.

##10-4, Rampart. 2 mgs epi endotracheally with a bolus flush normal saline.
One amp bicarb IV. Stand by for our fourth countershock..## said Roy.

Kelly and Marco got mercifully out of earshot before they heard a repeat 
of hollow sound as Sam's unreactive body was once again injected forcibly 
with electricity. They didn't want to know the outcome they knew to be
fast arriving. Death was visiting through the storm and it was going to
take one of their own despite all of Roy and Johnny's desperate medical 
fighting. They were grateful for the rain. It was good for hiding their sharp 
tears of rising private grief.

The cluster of dispatchers hastened out of the way when Chet and Marco
returned and that broke them out of their gaping paralysis. The fire supe 
began snapping orders. "Ok, everybody. Back at your stations! Give the 
boys all possible room to work. Don't worry, Sam's being handled. But 
Battalion Seven needs us to resume service to 51's area yesterday..  
Steve, Daphne.. work on clearing the west tower of lightning interference in 
Blue 1. Burn the breakers if you have to! Bob, Scott, go kick the generators 
a few times to see why the secondary network hasn't fired up yet to full power.
Move!"

Cap shook his head sadly. ::They don't know it yet. Sam's gone. And I don't
think I'll be the one who tells them. It wouldn't be right.:: Gently, he cleared
Sam's lax face free of blood with his storm wet gloves while he offered him a 
parody of life through the ventilator. ::I'm sorry Sam. We did the best we could.::

Right then, the lights came on and full power returned to L.A. Headquarters.
Battalion Seven's voice rang out over 51's multiple HTs. ##Nice work folks, L.A. 
H.Q.'s southwestern communications network is back on normal service. All 
Battalion units, return to your bases. I'm reading all channels green and clear..##

But then Cap heard one thing that tore his heart. "Sue, take over Sam's
console until we get a replacement called in. Make sure the paramedic calls he
was dealing with have been handled." said the dispatcher manager from the other
room.

==================================================================
Roy and Johnny made pests of themselves outside Sam's treatment 
room while the crack neurologist surgical team worked. Finally, they were 
gently, verbally, pushed out of the room's doorway. 

Stoker nearly dragged himself out of the room, his T-shirt wringing with sweat 
and rain water. His uniform shirt was tied off around his waist in an effort to 
cool himself off.

"Are they still working him?" Gage asked Mike.

Stoker nodded yes and wandered off in the direction of the engine. 

Outside, the storm was giving way to a bright dawn and peeks of pink and 
lavendar from the sunrise were smoothly dissolving the black clouds at the 
horizon.

"Mike..what can you tell me?" Gage asked Stoker. Mike lifted a weary hand
and let it fall in dismissal as he walked away. He refused to answer. "Mike!" 
Gage called out again. Loudly.

Roy stopped him. "Let him go. He was in there for
almost an hour and a half, working on Sam with the others. Let him go."

Dixie was the next to open the door of Sam Lanier's emergency surgical suite.
She immediately fetched up against Roy and Johnny trying once again 
to see into the room. "Now, boys.. go on to the waiting room. No, wait a minute. 
Scratch that. Roy, go wash up first. You've still got bl-- uh,.. you're still not 
presentable enough to be seen by...visitors." she said softly, correcting herself.

They ignored her. "Dix, what's happening to him?" Gage said. "We've got to know.
Don't you know who that is?"

"Of course I know.." she hissed. "Who wouldn't know Sam?.. He's been in the 
business longer than I have." She immediately amended her sharp tone. "Sorry. 
This is going hard on all of us,..too." and she sighed quietly.

She noticed Johnny's shivering and set a warm hand on his to comfort him. A 
passing nurse offered two sets of blankets to the paramedics to wrap 
themselves in at just a glance at the blood on their uniforms. Dixie nodded her 
thanks to Sharon and spoke. "He's on full life support with an internal pacemaker 
in place." she said without cutting corners.

Johnny sucked in his breath, turning away to hide his tearful reaction.

Roy shot a look of concern at his partner but he continued to worriedly
listen to Dixie.

McCall hurried her words as if she could smooth away the bad news.
"They've started Mannitol to stave off his increasing intracranial pressure. His
EEG is still showing activity.."

"Yeah, but how much?" Roy asked softly.

Dixie lowered her eyes. "Not enough. I'm sorry."  

Johnny bit his lip, wiping silent tears away angrily with a sleeve. He leaned
against the wall, studying the posters on it without looking at them. "And now
you're going to tell us that there's always hope, right?"

Dixie and Roy stayed still, both physically frozen in the face of
Johnny's self immolating pain.

"Right?!" Gage asked again, this time meeting their eyes squarely. His
brown ones were flooded with fresh liquid grief.

Dixie gripped Johnny's hand even tighter. "I wouldn't say anything
that wasn't absolutely G*d's given truth, Johnny Gage."

"Well my Creator certainly isn't giving me mine." he snarled.
Then his hand fished inside of his shirt for Nakoma's prayer sack. 
He ripped it off violently and tossed its sodden soft deer skin's weight
to the tiled floor at his feet. It ruptured and a rumpled hawk feather 
gushed out in a spreading pool of herbal stained water. "My tribal
elder said that I would either pay in blood or lose a blood tie soon
for past sins so Dixie, don't offer me your sympathy. I don't deserve it.
There's none that I'll accept in this world or from any other one for that 
matter. I just lost a close friend today and it's entirely ..my ...fault."

Johnny Gage left Roy and Dixie staring at the broken prayer sack
he had left abandoned and bleeding on the tiles.

-------------------------------------------------------------------------

Photo:  Cap in helmet, grimacing in emotional pain.

Photo:  Johnny, Roy and Cap working in a medical huddle
             in dim surroundings.

Photo:  A grim Chet carrying a stokes stretcher and yellow blanket.

Photo:  Stoker and others performing stokes CPR.

Photo:  Johnny and Roy working a code in a Mayfair.

Photo:  Gage gelling up the defib paddles.

Photo:  Johnny holding O2 at Rampart, getting mad at Roy and Dix.

Photo:  A native american prayer sack and feather amulet.

**************************************************************************
From :  Cory Anda <andacory@hotmail.com> 
Sent :  Wednesday, March 30, 2005 10:47 PM 
To :  emergencytheaterlive@yahoogroups.com 
Subject :  The Spirit Circles 

The phone call came at noon, right when the gang had 
roused from restless sleep that was filled with dreams of 
overwhelming sadness of the night before. Everyone 
was present at the kitchen table, sipping coffee, except 
Johnny Gage. 

"I understand, Mrs. Lanier. I-I'll let them know, right away. 
Thank you for calling.. I-if there's anything that the boys 
and I can do... Yes, Shara, we'll all be there come Monday 
morning for him. And we'll bring the engine." Cap said quietly 
into the receiver. He hung up the phone. 

Marco, Mike, Roy and Chet all looked at him with close 
unwilling attention but they knew even before Hank said it that 
Sam Lanier had died on the surgical table. 

"The docs did everything they could, she told me. But 
the damage was just too extensive. They found a large intact 
aneurysm in between the two hemispheres of Sam's brain with a 
smaller one burst right at his brain stem. That's the one that 
knocked his heart and..and.. killed him." Hank reported 
to his silent men. 

"A berry aneurysm.." Roy said, nodding. "Sam didn't stand a 
chance against one of those. He probably never felt anything 
when it happened. That kind of stroke kills you pretty quick 
after making you black out." 

"Shara said that the docs told her that his having those aneurysms 
was virtually undetectable. Sam would have had no prior 
symptoms beyond a few tiny ones." 

"Like his stuttering over the radio..." Roy sighed sadly. 

"And very little if any pain.." Cap agreed. "She said that his condition 
was most likely congenital. Sam's mother died from a stroke like 
this one." 

Stoker lifted his cup to drink his coffee but it never got to his 
lips. "When's the funeral gonna be, Cap?" 

"The chiefs have set it for Monday at sunrise with full 
departmental honors and Shara wants us to be Sam's honor guards 
for the precession at the front. Battalion Seven is commissioning a horse 
drawn fire engine to be the vehicle to bear Sam's casket to the cemetery. 
He....said it was only right for a man who's earned a medal of valor." 

"Sam died while on duty. He ought to get one.." Chet sniffed, he 
looked up after blowing his nose and wiping his eyes. "Where's 
Johnny? Shouldn't he be updated like the rest of us?" 

"I thought he was still sleeping in the bunk room..." said Marco. 

"Nah, he got up with the rest of us a half hour ago." Hank replied. 
"I saw him in the bathroom, washing up." 

"Then where is he?" Kelly wondered. 

"Bark!" said Boot, standing in the kitchen doorway. He pointedly 
looked towards the vehicle garage and back again. 

Cap sighed. "He's probably in the backyard trying to warm up 
in the sun. Guess we'd better let him know the outcome." 

"We'll come with you, Cap.." said Stoker, getting out of his chair. 

The rest of the guys went with Hank. 

------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- 

Boot led the way to where Johnny was. 

They found him sitting upright against the brick wall opposite 
the garage doors on an intricate blanket of woven yarn, with a second 
one draped over his uniformed shoulders, sound asleep against 
the small maple tree. The sun on his face made Gage look worn 
and tired. 

"Oops, I forgot. I promised him that I'd come out here with him for 
this thanksgiving bit every day at noon and at sundown." said Roy, 
joining his sleeping partner, sitting cross legged on the blanket. He 
took up the lit pipe resting on a seat of rocks and held it up into 
the sun to spread a plume of its smoke to the wind before returning 
it to its cradle. Then he placed a hand totem of leather bound 
and beaded feathers into his lap and he began holding it in a reverent 
manner in between his hands. It looked strange to the others 
to see Roy doing that but somehow, it felt right and proper. 

"You gonna wake him up so we can tell him?" Chet whispered. 

"Nah. It's not like he can get sunburned..." said Roy. "I'm just 
supposed to stay here with him for a while. I'll tell him 
when he wakes up. He's pretty wiped out as it is. That rain got 
him pretty cold last night." 

"All right. Guys, let's give them a little peace to do what it 
is they gotta do with all this." Cap said, indicating the pipe, and 
the prayer blanket. "Guess this is a private thing." 

"I'll make him eat." promised DeSoto. "Keep a pair of plates warming 
in the oven for us." he said, yawning in the sunlight. 

Hank nodded and the others left for the rec room to talk quietly 
while they prepared lunch. 

Soon, DeSoto and Gage and Boot were all alone in the quiet yard, 
cocooned in the bright sunlight that was beating down on them. 

Boot circled once on the edge of the ornately woven 
blanket, facing the sun, and soon slept. 

Roy drowsed, too, almost unbiddingly. Soon, his head fell 
onto his chest and he began to snore. 

--  --  --  --  --  --  --  --  --  --  --  --  --  --  --  --  --  --  --  --  -- 
A piercing whine brought Johnny sharply to as something plunked 
heavily into the hands he had folded up in his lap. "Nageela? What are 
you doing here?" he said, burying fingers deep into the wolf dog's thick 
sun warmed coat. Johnny looked down and saw that the prayer sack 
he had abandoned at the hospital was strangely intact with fresh 
feathers and repacked with pungent spices. 

A brush of wind and a voice got Johnny's attention and he shaded his 
eyes as he squinted into the sun towards it to figure out what it was 
saying. 

The leaves on the tree behind him, weren't moving. 

Nageela whined again, studying Johnny's face intently and she sat 
back down on her haunches. The brightness of her eyes made Johnny 
blink. ::I'm dreaming.:: he thought. ::I must have fallen asleep in the yard.:: 

"..So, Ya-laahe Kowechobe. We meet again...." said Nakoma, joining 
Gage by sitting on the Indian blanket and crossing his legs in front of 
him. "Nageela is returning that which rightfully belongs to you.." he said, 
sweeping a wand of hawk feathers out to the prayer bag Johnny clutched in 
his hands. "Put that back around your neck, Panther, so it can do its work 
absolving you of--" 

"I don't deserve to be absolved, Nakoma. What you said...what you said 
came true last night. I lost a very good friend on a rescue..." he said, his eyes 
filling with tears. 

"I don't understand you..." frowned Nakoma. Johnny sighed. Sometimes 
the older elder wasn't very good with modern ways of talking. 

"I watched his spirit...just leave under my hands as I tried to save 
him. He died...." 

Nakoma's eyes flashed and he smiled warmly, showing white teeth. 
"Ah, I see now." said the old elder, reaching down and taking a smoke 
from the lit pipe. He returned it to the rocks, resting it 
near a familiar man's uniformed ankles. 

Johnny startled when he realized that Roy was sound asleep next to him, 
sitting up beside him, almost invisible in the plume of smoke rising from the pipe. 

"The west wind brought the storm that took your Speaker, Johnny. His leaving 
wasn't your doing at all. The Creator meant for him to go. It was his time.. You 
know the bravest warriors are the first to return to the Great Spirit. Even those 
who are only Miccosukee." 

"But why, Nakoma? Did I cause his death by not honoring my life properly for 
you?" Johnny cried out in grief. 

"I am not responsible for Sam's death, Panther. And neither are you. No one can 
say what circles one's spirit may travel in, until it does. Sam was not the blood nor 
the blood tie you think he represents. You have it all wrong. I was referring to your 
aunt and your sense of tradition." said the earthy clothed elder. He reached over 
and retied the buckskin prayer sack around Johnny's neck. "Your blood is your 
tribe, and she, your tie to it. If you turn away from what she holds dear, that is a death, 
too. Don't mourn Sam, but let him go. Honor him for who he was and honor yourself 
the way you are doing it right now! For that is the circle you must travel in order for 
you to find yourself. Roy has decided to be here with us. Let him help you as well. 
Boot will be good for your healing, too. For a dog is the Guardian of the Spirit. 
Pay attention to them both and remember to not be afraid of your own spirit. It is 
just circling as it must. Panther, in the next days, face to the east, and go on that path, 
for that is the way that will lead you eventually to the truth that you are seeking." 

--  --  --  --  --  --  --  --  --  --  --  --  --  --  --  --  --  --  --  --  -- 

An angry car horn from the freeway jolted Johnny Gage awake. A soft 
weight plunked down into both of his hands and smooth beadwork 
caressed his hands as it tumbled down and into his grip. 
Whatever it was, was also wet, having come from a panting, tooth filled 
doggy mouth. 

"Boot? Where did you get this?" said Johnny, sinking his fingers into 
the station dog's warm, thick coat. "Who gave you my prayer sack?" 

"I'm afraid I did." yawned Roy, coming awake next to him. "Sorry it got 
wet. Boot got a hold of it and wouldn't let any of us near it. Guess he 
just wanted to be the one to give it back to you. And before you yell 
at me for tampering with it. Dixie and I decided that we couldn't bear up 
against your aunt once you got back home from working the weekend 
without that prayer sack around your neck. So we monkeyed with it on 
our own. I..don't know if we fixed it up right. The seams came apart 
at the sides there. That was easy enough to sew up with a suture kit. 
And Dixie found new feathers to put inside of it.." 

"Oh, yeah?.." Johnny said, "What kind?" 

"Pigeon.." 

"Pigeon?" laughed Johnny. 

Roy blushed, "Yeah, well it was the best we could do at the time. 
The nurses knew where to find some since all the pediatric kids on the 
fourth floor like to leave food on the ledges outside Rampart's playroom 
windows for all the birds." he broke off as Johnny started shaking his 
head in disbelief. "Did we do something wrong?" 

Gage redraped the Indian blanket around himself and just smiled. 
"No, in fact, I think you did things just right. I never did understand 
the symbolism behind the hawk in my tribe's terms. Now, the pigeon,..I 
think I understand very well. Now that bird's self sufficient, colorful..." 

"..messy.." added Roy. 

"Just a little. But they're smart, too. They always like to stick close 
together with the others. You know, Roy. Maybe they're supposed to be 
my personal totem after all. They kinda suit me."  he said, retying the 
delicate beaded and tasselled bag around his throat. He tucked it 
underneath his shirt. 

"But I thought your name was Panther. Or something like that." 
DeSoto said, putting on his shoulder blanket so that they could 
have the tea Johnny would make in a few minutes in the proper 
manner. 

"It is.. Orange Panther. But that isn't my animal totem, that's a proper 
name, The name of the clan family my ancestors are from, in Florida. 
Nakoma said that a man's animal totem always reveals herself 
when the time's right." 

"When the time's right..." echoed Roy, his face growing full and sad. 
"Johnny, I'm afraid I have some very bad news to share with you.." 

"I already know, Roy. Nakoma's already told me.." 

Roy unconsciously looked around the yard. "He did?" 

"Yeah. Sam died an hour ago, right when it finally stopped raining. 
It was just as the sun was coming back out. I...think I felt him go..." 
Gage sighed, fingering the lump his prayer sack made under his 
uniform. 

"How do you feel? Are you still a little chilled?" Roy asked, 
feeling Johnny's wrist for its temperature even as he smiled 
gently. 

"I'm better. I'm not cold anymore. Not at all." 

"That's good. We were all worried about you when you stormed 
out of Rampart like that to sit behind the squad full out under 
all that rain." 

"So when's the funeral? There's a few things I'd like to say for him." 

"It's Monday.." 

"I'll be ready... Isn't that right, Boot?" Gage said, affectionately 
petting the mascot's sides from where he lay happily panting on 
the Indian blanket. 

Boot looked up and licked Johnny's nose. 

--------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Photo:  Johnny and Roy smiling, outside the station.

Photo:  A Seminole Indian man, staring at you in a ceremonial shirt.

Photo:  Chief Houts addressing the gang in dress uniform with
             a commendation.

Photo:   A rose draped black casket at a cemetery.

Photo: A white fire horse pulling a water pump engine.
 
----------------------------------------------------------------
From : Dr. Jeff Seltun <finiterider@yahoo.com>
Sent: Thursday, March 31st, 2005  11:06 pm
Subject: The East Wind...


They had come. As many as could be spared on a busy
summer's day. There were so many firefighters arriving,
that a larger vehicle bay at L.A.'s shops was utilized for the
memorial service.  And all work ceased on the fleet of Wards
to honor a man fallen in the best way known. By memory.

Johnny Gage wiped his hands uneasily on his suit coat before
taking Chief Houts place at the microphone. He barely saw
Sam's picture on a framed stand with the medal of valor hanging
off one edge. He tried to focus on Roy's face, but he lost it in
the crowd, so instead, he chose Shara Lanier to speak to for
somehow, that made it easier.

" I have the hard memory, of being one of the last firemen, who
saw Sam Lanier while he was still here doing what he loved
and wished with all his heart to do, and that was to be a Los
Angeles County Fire Department Dispatcher. His last call
was to my station, my squad. Someone in a storm needed
us so Sam's voice was our guide. Things went as they sometimes
do, and we were soon free to answer another call for help. But
when we reached out once more for direction, Sam's voice had been 
silenced. My friend and partner felt the same sense of ...something
gone terribly wrong. And so we went to where he was, only to find
that it was far too late to make a difference when we needed to 
most. 

A tribal elder, one with whom I have ties at times, told me that
nothing is more valuable than blood and the bonds your family
and friends give you while you go throughout your life. Well, Sam
taught me the book about just that sort of life's lesson every day
of my working life. And I will ...dearly....miss him.

Nakoma, my elder, said to speak openly of the heart so that
I may heal myself of the pain my work sometimes brings. And
so let me speak now, to honor my friend, Sam.


Oh Great Spirit, whose voice I hear in those I serve, 
and whose breath gives life to all the world, 
Hear my heart.
Let me walk in safety, so that I may be strong for others. 
May my eyes see how to save them, and nuture their life. 
Make my hands do the things you have taught me, 
and may my ears be sharp to hear you calling me on their behalf.
I am small and weak. I need your strength and wisdom. 
Make me wise, so that I may learn the lessons 
you have hidden in every trial that I may face. 
I seek strength, not to be superior to my brother, 
but to fight my greatest enemy - myself. 
Oh Great Spirit, hear me. 
Make me ready, so when life fades to a last sunset, 
my spirit will come to you, and him, without shame. 


 
I stood and I watched as a firebrother guided me,
as I always knew he would.
Then I heard that his home was in danger, so I ran to him.
He didn't die because he was old,
Or he didn't die because he was in a wreck,
He died doing what he felt was right.

I watch a wife trying to hold back her tears,
Her beloved lived only 39 years,
Her husband had died 50 miles away,
and what is there left for me to say?
Yesterday, I got down on my knees and I said a prayer,
That he was the bravest soul I knew and I let him know that I cared.

For in a past day, I stood and watched as a little boy cried near me,
He didn't understand why his life was passing on,,
Why he'd never again play with his mother on the lawn.

Looking at the little boy's tears I knew,
That a firebrother used his voice, so that I'd be there.
Fighting for that child, until I had saved him 
and little did I know that one day, I'd come, ...for him
and fight the same life's battle.  But ..I...we...lost..

Rest in honor and face the East Wind, Sam.
I'll be watching for you when it comes time for
me to leave the west, ...and come home.."

-----------------------------------------------------------------------


            
                            End Credits --  Episode Nineteen  (Third Season)
                                      
                                              §§   Sacred Ground  §§

                :)      This episode is dedicated to the real life Sam Lanier
                        who was the voice of the dispatcher for the Emergency
                        TV series. Sam passed away in 1999 and is still to
                         this day, missed by 911 operators and fans around 
                         the world. He served the L.A.Co.F.D. for over 30 years.
                                   
                :)                                                                                                    :)

 
The Story Unfolds...

Season Three, Episode Twenty..
 
 §§   Recertification    §§
 
Debut Launch: April 1st, 2005. 

 
 
********************************************************************
From: "Cory Anda" <andacory@hotmail.com> 
Date: Mon Apr 4, 2005  3:02 pm 
Subject: The Changes in the Air.. 


Dr. Kelly Brackett pulled up into his parking place under 
the Jerusalem pine row next to the fire paramedic
chopper pad. Joe Early, in the passenger seat next to
him, grabbed his travel mug and got out of the convertible.
Kel was twenty feet away from their parking space when
he immediately about faced and returned to re-key the driver's
door to roll up all four of his windows snugly, including the
sun roof.

"Kel, I don't think it's gonna rain.." teased Joe Early.
"There's not a cloud in the sky this morning."

Brackett grumbled, adjusting his wide splashy 
tie as he paced back to the silver haired doctor's side. 
"I learned my lesson about not doing this, the hard way. 
Joe, I'm surprised at you. The first time I forgot to seal up, I had so
much dust in my car from all the chopper landings that
I could leave fingerprints on the dashboard. Deep ones!"

"Guess my last name's too close to the beginning of the alphabet,
Kel. Every non-surgical doctor up to M has to park in the east 
lot, remember?" Joe said. "But that doesn't mean our cars don't
get just as filthy..."

"Oh, yeah, I'd forgotten, you guys have the honor of parking near the 
freeway ramp." he gave a shudder. "All that oil vapor's much worse." 

"Not really."

"I think so. Having to wash gummy petroleum scum off your car 
windows is ten times more annoying. I may get to park nearer the 
main doors, but I didn't expect that privilege to include free auto paint 
sandblasting.."

"Oh, hush, Kel. You love the chopper program and you 
know it."

"I'll either affirm or deny that after a cup of joe, Joe.".. he winked,
deliberately teasing Early with the pun on his first name. "It's too
early to be admiring how lovely our suburban hospital is sitting 
in the middle of an urban city setting." Dr. Brackett joked sarcastically. 
"The only thing rustic about our location is the silhouette of the mountains 
we sometimes get to see whenever the smog lifts."

"Do we need cleaner gasoline?" Early wondered, thinking on it with
a frown.  

"I know it. Just look at the middle of your driving lane sometimes. They are 
black as coal. No wonder people are dropping from respiratory and cardiac
disorders like flies."

"Job security, Kel. What's on your agenda for today?" Joe chuckled as
they walked the short distance to the emergency ambulance
doors for the doctor's lounge to pick up their white doctor's
coats. 

"A little paper pushing. A surprise meeting with Los Angeles 
County regulatory board itself. Seems the big shots from the fire 
department want to "standardize" my paramedic program to fit
their new system on how they train new firefighters.."

"Oo, I don't like the sound of that. What are they looking for?"
Dr. Early asked curiously. His mild shy smile never left his face.

"Probably how to put a bandaid on someone while simultaneously
manning a fire hose. Who knows? Guess I'll find out once I get there."

"What's there to replan? Your paramedic training candidate success rate's
been almost perfect these last past six years. Especially using fire engine
rescue men training up to the paramedic squad level. Johnny Gage is
a classic example of that."

"It's not that they're not happy with my certification numbers.The county 
claims that they have new technologies they wish to incorporate
into the department system, both on the medical and firefighting fronts. 
The most obvious being the creation of a paramedic manual with some 
pre-set standardized protocols to eliminate the usual field to doctor 
communication time delays on implementing victim treatments. Seems 
they don't like all the rehashing being done over the repeater tower frequencies
for medical clearances. They say all the unnecessary air time's getting 
expensive to regulate and coordinate."

"Oh, I get the picture. It is you or them who's embarrassed by all your 
paramedics out-thinking the doctor and anticipating your orders over the 
radio?"

"Not me. I love the fact that some of my senior medics do that. Saves 
me a lot of headaches on busy base station call days."

"Sure it does..." Joe teased sarcastically. "And the chiefs, too. They want you to
write those fixed new protocols into stone to put your county funded money
where your mouth is to save THEM a couple of bucks."

"Just call me Moses..." Kel quipped, not hiding an obvious truth.

"I don't envy you. I can see the practicality of doing a change like that. Perhaps
the biophone concept as we know it, is on the way out.." Joe theorized.

"Not in a million years." Brackett grumbled good naturedly. "How can you
improve the telephone industry? Eliminate telephone wires for everybody?"

"Stranger things have happened.." Joe said. "So, what's some of the
new stuff the fire department wants to implement into the new manual?"

"We'll find out at the meeting. Want to sit in on it? I could use your input.
I already have all the paramedics scheduled to attend the county fire heads
with the Physician's Association in a series of conferences to refine needs 
for the new guidelines I've been asked to write."

"On top of your usual ER workload?" goggled Dr. Early.

"Seniority sucks sometimes, too, Joe."

"I'm so there. Who else is going to watch your back to make sure you
don't crack under the pressure?"

"A friend to the end. Knew I could count on you." smirked Kel.

--------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

The gang had just cleared the table of breakfast dishes when Cap
came in the room with a brown paper sealed, person sized package
stamped priority mail.

Johnny Gage, being curious, asked about it. "What's that, Cap? A new
chalkboard for the rec room?"

"No, it's a piece of new equipment we're to start training on. One of several
new pieces for the engine. Grab the other end and help me open it." Stanley 
said hefting the bulky package over the table top. Marco, Chet and Stoker
hastily cleared away the napkin holder, and the salt and pepper shakers.

Gage ripped open the paper like a kid at Christmas. His face immediately
frowned. "What're all these? A new set of cave in braces?"

"No, Gage. What else does it look like? Far out, Cap. I read up on this in
the Fire Science Digest last month." Chet said.

Roy DeSoto quit rubbing his chin as the paper wrapping fell away. "It's a new
kind of stretcher.." he guessed.

"Yep. It's called a scoop stretcher. And this thing's only the first of the new
stuff that's being tested out with us in the field. Seems there's gonna be new
standards of recertification in the works for all of us simple firefighters." Cap 
said, trying to smile.

The other firefighters, quit smiling. "You're kidding.." said Marco. "You mean
learning all those engineer chemical formulas and hose pressure calculations 
weren't bad enough?"

"Apparently not." said Hank.

Gage started laughing. "Too bad, guys. Maybe you all should become paramedics
to avoid all that....on the job training suffering."

"Wipe that smile off your face, Gage. This," Cap frowned as he smacked down a large fat
notebook that they all recognized as the squad drug pharmacology manual from
his office down onto the table."..is for you. Brackett wants you to take it to the
first of several meetings to go over the new paramedic changes, starting today. 
Seems a bunch of trial senior paramedics have already attempted to pass the
new mock test recertification standards. Over half of them, failed. One of them who
didn't pass, I'll have you know, was Craig Brice."

  
The smiles fled off Roy and Johnny's faces. "What? But he's the walking
rule book. How can he-?" Gage broke off, dumbstruck. 

Roy simply sighed, closing his eyes.

Chet Kelly started chuckling. "Well, what's good for the goose.." he leaned
into Johnny's gaping face, hefting up the heavy, dusty, little used 
drug manual and sent it into Gage's arms with a toss, "..is good for 
the gander. Join in the fun, boys. Looks like it's just beginning... for all of us.."

-------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Photo:  Joe Early and Kel Brackett, conferring.

Photo:  Roy and Johnny studying manuals.

Photo:  A metal scoop stretcher.

Photo:  Brackett and a lot of paramedics in a meeting.

Photo: Cap in a closeup from the office.

********************************************************************
From :  patti keiper <pattik1@hotmail.com> 
Sent :  Friday, April 8, 2005 3:46 PM 
Subject :  [EmergencyTheaterLive] The Scene.. 


The SCU tones went off, long ones, calling out both the squad 
and the engine. As he ran, Cap couldn't quite suppress some shivers.
L.A.'s information had followed quicker than normal after the electronic
call signs for multiple stations. "Move guys. This one's big..." Hank
said unnecessarily. "Lopez, take the new scoop in with you
guys into the crew compartment. We'll stash it in storage later if there's 
no need for it. I already have the rest of the new equipment in the back.
I'll train you up as we go."

"Right, Cap." said Marco and he picked up the two halves of the new
stretcher from the tabletop. Chet helped him carry the two sections like
a ladder. 

Everyone was in full turn out even before the bay doors fully opened. 
Stoker drew out the massive Ward La France to the edge of the drive 
behind the squad and waited for the rest of the call. 

##Stations 99, 24, 10, 18 and 51 with Battalion 1. Structural collapse
at the Beverly Mall. 8500 Beverly Boulevard. Cross street, Cienega 
Boulevard. 8500 Beverly Boulevard. Cross street, Cienega Boulevard...##

Roy hung an immediate right.

##..Mall supervisors report multiple trapped casualties. Negative on fire 
occurance or main structure compromise. Triage protocol alerts have 
been issued. Incident 10-20 is the central rotunda, west entrance. Time out, 
1003...##

Cap picked up the radio mic. "Station 51, 10-4. KMG 365.." as a chorus from
the other four stations followed suit. Then he picked up his HT and flipped
over to truck to truck. "Have any of you been here before? The center's
a large-ish concrete four level behemoth on the end of the main drag."

"Yeah, Cap. The layout's a sort of lopsized diamond. The rotunda's a big
open area with two elevator shafts situated opposite on a square. If I 
remember rightly, there's glass in the ceiling latticed with steel girders above 
it over marble flooring." said Kelly. "Nothing that could burn, but I wouldn't 
be surprised if one or two water mains were effected. There is a large cafe 
like restaurant adjacent to the plaza with an open air bar extending into it."

"Anyone else have something to add?" asked Cap, hunting for more information.

Marco spoke up."Electricity may be a factor. There's an escalator hub that runs
complementary on the non-shaft sides. Right in the middle. I seem to remember
four flights of them running three decks high next to each other. There's a 
central wishing pool and a two story sculpture."

Chet added more. "I can't understand it, Cap. What could have collapsed if
it's not the roof? There's nothing major over that area."

Hank considered, then he thumbed the talk button again on his walkie so
the squad could hear him. "When was the last time you were at the mall, Kelly?"

"Around the holidays.."

"So your knowledge is six months old. Maybe there's been new construction." Cap 
interjected. "Thanks, guys." then he flipped over to Tach Command frequency.
"Station 51 to Battalion 1. Where do you want us?"

##51, the north parking lot. Go in through the restaurant to avoid the ongoing evacuation
of the effected area through the main public entrances. Also, there's bound to be congestion
from traffic due to the proximity of a small casino so watch out for that.
Lay no line until I've determined the full nature of the incident.##

"10-4, Battalion 1." said Hank. "51, going off TC channel."

Mike Stoker had overheard. Cap switched back to crew frequency. "Roy, take
her into the north lot. Head for the restaurant. We're going through the kitchens.."

##10-4, Cap..##

Gage, sitting next to DeSoto, rubbed his chin in anticipation. "I don't like
the sound of this one. I knew it was gonna be a big call but this feels REAL 
big."

"Time to earn our pay.." Roy said with a sober face. He sped up, pushing
seven over the speed limit.

"Ever been there?" Johnny said over the sirens.

Gage's unanticipated question startled Roy where he sat tensely.
"Yeah, it's a gorgeous place. An engineer's waking dream. Joanne likes
it.." he broke off, studying his hands nervously. "...so do the kid--" He
didn't finished the sentence. Both knew the chance of young victims
was probably high due to the fountain's attraction factor.

"But there's also a bar there.." Johnny said, as if reading his partner's
mind.

"Yeah..." Roy said, uncomforted. "But I still don't feel any better about it. 
A lot of people could be attending a large special event or something."

"What things go on at the center?"

"I remember Tuesday's tea. They sometimes have a band playing."
Roy sighed.

"And it would have to be Tuesday.. terrific." Gage said sarcastically.
"Dozens could be down, if not hundreds.."

------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Photo:   A neon and concrete shopping center edge from a road's view.

Photo:  The interior of a large open area mall.

Photo:  Roy on the squad mic, talking.

Photo:  The engine and squad pulling up to a scene near police
             and a battalion chief.

********************************************************************************
From :  Roxy Dee <laterrapincabesa@hotmail.com> 
Sent :  Friday, April 15, 2005 11:08 PM 
Subject :  Sifting~~ 


##To all units, this is Battalion One. We've updated information. I'm 
on scene. I'm seeing a broken water main from the fourth floor over
what appears to be a collapsed aerial sidewalk in the main rotunda.
First-in reports over a dozen casualties visible with evidence of others
trapped out of sight via eye witness accounts. I'm declaring this
scene chemical hazmat negative. L.A., Battalion One, return Hazmat 
response. Notify a heavy equipment assignment, including bulldozers.##

##10-4, Battalion One. Station 99, return.##

## Station 99, ten four.## said a travelling fire captain.

##Time out, 10:10.## replied L.A. ##*BEEP*BEEP*BEEP* Brush Nine,
Excavation Ten, aerial sidewalk collapse at the Beverly Mall.
8500 Beverly Boulevard. Cross street, Cienega  Boulevard. 8500 
Beverly Boulevard. Cross street, Cienega Boulevard. Timeout: 10:11.##
rehailed L.A. Headquarters.

Roy and Johnny tuned out the remainder radio traffic, focusing instead
on where they were going. The place wasn't hard to find. Two other stations
were already flanking Battalion One's red chief's car at the north entrance
and a heavy plume of dust was following in the wake of those evacuating
the mall's central courtyard. Already, basic framework for a
triage network was setting up. 

Captain Stanley thumbed the engine mic. "Station 51, Battalion One. On scene."

Battalion One's rich voice reverberated through the HT net from
his location inside the mall. ##Battalion One, Station 51. Tackle the 
north end of the collapse nearest the ruptured water main. We're hearing about
multiple victims in that area. Mall management indicates those who may
be trapped number less than two hundred according to ticket sales. I'm 
declaring a full emergency triage situation. Handle by priority condition only.
A canine search unit has been deployed.##

"10-4, Battalion One. Station 51 is moving in.." Hank said firmly, but his voice
betrayed anxiety over what was to be discovered. He leaped out of the cab before 
Stoker could coast the Ward to a halt. "Chet!, Marco! Ignore all hosework! Grab
extrication gear and all the medical stores we have!  Stoker, go with Roy and 
Johnny, help them get situated ASAP. Stokes oughta work going through
the restaurant. It's bound to be cramped in the kitchen.." Cap reported.

He had never seen his men hustle faster. ::Recertification, my *ss. You can't
speed any crew faster than mine.:: thought Hank ruefully. Then he
entered the mall.

Station 51 barely heard the plainitive questions coming from the cafe's
workers who were as yet unaware of the collapse out in the central plaza.
They focused on those witnesses who were screaming and running,
for details.

A man, his face looking as flat as a manikin's, under a layer of concrete dust,
stumbled against Roy as he fled the cafe's eating area.

"An old lady was on top of my ankle, screaming. I said to her, `Be 
calm. Breathe deep,' but she just kept struggling. I felt her last movement. 
She's dead!" 

"Easy, keep moving outside. There are people outside who can help you!
Go!" DeSoto said, piling his gear onto a white wire patio table that
was safely under an overhang dripping ivys and away from the fountaining
high pressure water shooting from the fractured suspended pipes spilling 
out thirty feet overhead.

Gage had grabbed another dazed witness, equally dusted in chalk white
and dotted with red wounds. "I was watching the dance contest," the woman 
said, recalling. "Thank God I'm short. I was surrounded by tall people. 
It- it, it hit them first .." she said weakily, "I saw it falling, and there was 
nowhere to go." 

Johnny gripped her face. "You're ok, you're ok.. Hey, can you hear me? Now
follow that man. You've got to get out of here, ma'am. It's not safe with all the 
debris in here."

"Oh, ok..." she said, stumbling towards a police man in rain gear who was
at the end of a human chain showing the way out.

Gage shouted to his crewmates. "Put it all here! This'll be our base station!"
he said slamming a glove onto the white metal mesh of the large patio
table. Soon, piles of gear, oxygen tanks from the squad and Ward, were
lined up and cracked open.

Roy and Johnny ran past and through the plume of escaping
water once they determined that the plaza's main power had indeed
been shut off. They carried with them, just the basics, dressings, airways
and their radios. Pushing through the blinding curtain of water, they
found a sunny open spot in the dusty gloom and headed for it.

In the glinting bright morning sunlight, on the mall's floor, 
was carnage. Dozens of victims were pinned, dying beneath the debris. 
Bodies cut in half. Broken necks, broken backs, severed limbs. 

Captain Stanley paused in shock only momentarily, wiping
away streams of pipe wash from his face and eyes. "Oh.." he 
gasped in mental angst. Then he shut out his feelings. 
"Gang, fan out sixty feet square and don't go beyond it! Remain in visual 
and radio contact. Go for those making sounds, tag em, assure any breathing,
then keep moving. I'll prioritize who gets first attention when we're set for 
cutting as the equipment gets here...Go.." he said unnecessarily.

His men followed orders explicitly, ignoring the unconscious, doing little beyond 
inserting short oral airways to those still pink with a pulse, before they reluctantly
moved to a moaning victim.

------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Outside, Battalion One was grabbed by one man ignoring his surroundings.

"Why haven't they brought her out?" the older man asked. "My whole 
life's in there." He stared blankly toward the mall entrance, holding 
his wife's purse, which she had handed to him before the accident.
"My wife just wanted to get closer to the orchestra......." 

The chief gently peeled the man's hands off his jacket and shouted.
"Hey, lieutenant!! Help this man! Non injured!" he shouted, then
he leaned the man against his red car. "Easy sir, go with this fireman,
I promise he'll do everything he can to locate your wife."

The man went.

Sighing, Battalion returned to the business at hand, directing personnel
to the disaster.

--------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

 
Some spanless time later, a rain jacketted Vince Howard appeared
at Cap's side. "I was here from the beginning, there was a big snap, like 
lightning in your back yard," said the cop. "It was the worst thing I have 
ever seen," he said. "I watched the people on the walkway grab a hold 
of it when it began to tip over. Then, they just disappeared. I think it was 
just the weight of the people that made it collapse." 

Cap took Vince's arm and turned him around, away from the main
pile of shattered concrete, twisted wire and the worst of the red
speckled shattered glass. "How many?"

"About one hundred people were dancing, and everybody else was 
sitting down," Howard said. "But the area under the walkway is 
jammed, because that's where the bar was." 

"Ok.." Hank said. He lifted his plastic wrapped HT. "Roy, Johnny.
Focus our team nearest the fallen platform. Seems most people 
were there at the bar.."

##Ok, Cap..## said Johnny in reply.

 Vince rubbed his dusty face. "No one panicked and few even 
cried. Everybody was so incredibly calm. I couldn't believe it." 

"Are you hurt anywhere?"

"Nah.. I was doing my mall beat like usual, I just happened to
be leaving the cafe after lunch when it happened. I told the first
squad cars to ignore those lying still and go after the people
covered with blood and still moving." said the dusty, wet policeman.

"That was a tough call, but you did right.." Hank said quietly.

A scream from right near their feet, shot both of them into action
and they picked their way across crunching gory glass over
to it. Hank drew out an all weather flashlight and played it down
deep underneath the red stained platform.

"Marco, help me lift this brass railing! I see a hollow space under here.
What is this spot? The top of the escalator?"

"Yeah, I think so..." said Vince. "We're situated right.." he said, eyeing
the square open air courtyard above them.

A muffled male voice filtered out. "Hey..*cough* Somebody's alive
down here! Help me, please....!"  

Cap waved over Kelly as well signalling urgently for a red hydraulic
brace beam. "Mister, how badly are you hurt?" he shouted, aiming
a flashlight in through the dripping water from the pipe. Sunlight
made a checkerboard of gray dust and red wounds over the man's 
face. "I..I..I'm..in town for a convention. I think I was struck on the arm by a 
brass railing and then by a ...by a...*gag*..falling body. It- she hit my neck."

"Don't move.. I have some men coming down to ya.." Hank commanded.
He pulled out his HT antennae. "Roy, Johnny. Over to me. I've picked
the first one. He's trapped next to the bed of tooth treads on the escalator
at its top. Bring full spinal gear. And ropes."

##On our way, Cap..## said Roy. 

Mercifully, the roaring water pipe above the rescue area slowly trickled
off, leaving behind puddles of pink as mall maintenance crews finally
shut off the flow. 

Immediately, the moans of survivors attracted the roving fire rescue 
crews like moths to a flame.

"That's a relief.." Hank said to Vince. Then he turned back to the hole.
"What's your name in there?!"

There was no answer.

"Hey!" said Cap. He picked up a twisted plaster dusted metal rod and began
slamming it against the part of the silver side of the escalator he could reach. 
"Stay with me!"

Instantly, the man's panicked cries rewarded him. "Stop it! *cough* The whole
thing'll collapse on me!" he gasped.

Cap looked farther up the debris pile and along the shape he now
recognized. "You're in a safe pocket. The sidewalk flooring capped the escalator 
when it fell. Don't worry. These steel side walls are more than strong enough to 
hold everything until we get you out of there. Just keep talking..."

"O-ok....."

Soon, the rest of the station gang was at Cap's side. 

Roy knelt, pulling off a coiled rope from his overjacketted
shoulders. "What'cha got, Cap?"

"Man with neck injuries lying along the escalator treads somewhere
under that.." he said pointing to the angled jumble of rosy marble
fractured in gigantic scale over the length of the escalator. "If he's
in there, chances are, others may be, too. They've been protected
from any crushing forces. I want you and Johnny to go in and get
him out of there. Take a belt line down with you. We'll send a stokes
when you give the word..."

Johnny nodded, shifting his dusty helmet a little higher on his head.
"Ok..   Mister. We're coming down! Just hold still!"

"Hurry..*gasp* It's getting hard to breathe. She's still on top of me.."

Roy leaned into Cap. "What's he talking about?"

"Man says a body fell on his head and neck and that's how he got hurt."

"Let's hope she's not in the way.." Gage said frowning. Then he
adjusted his belt, rope and gloves and started climbing downwards. 
"Roy..I'm using my penlight in my teeth as I go so I won't be able to
talk to ya until we get to him.."

"Ok.."

Roy, soon followed his partner down onto the pitch black, glass crunching
steel escalator stairs, underneath the remains of the aerial walkway.

Cap added his two cents worth. "And keep those radios ON you
at all times. Use them every five minutes. Got that?"

"Yeah..." both paramedics replied. Then Roy did nothing but
keep a vocal connection with the trapped man they knew lay
somewhere beneath them.

--------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Photo:  A sunny mall central court, with a flooring collapse in the 
             middle of it.

Photo:  Mike Stoker, looking pensive by the engine.

Photo:  People peering down a stalled escalator, overview.

Photo: Cap on HT, night, by the vehicles.

Photo: Overhanging view of aerial sidewalk collapse.

Photo: Johnny, geared up, dusty, on HT.

Photo: Roy and Johnny hurriedly peering down a hole at their feet.

*****************************************************************************
From :  Cory Anda <andacory@hotmail.com> 
Sent :  Saturday, April 23, 2005 6:43 PM 
Subject :  Trading spaces.. 


"Hey! Can you still hear me down there?!" Roy shouted.

There was a long pause before the injured man replied
faintly through the rubble. "Mister. Don't waste....your breath.
*cough.* I'm sure.....not."

"Me and my partner are on the way down to you. Just try to
relax..."

"Don't.....have much choice in not doing that, d-do I?" said the man's
voice weakily.

"That's something we're gonna change real soon." DeSoto
encourage as he squeezed in through the small hole underneath
the heavy slab of stone that once was the suspended mall walkway.
"What's your name?"

"Leo. W--What's yours?"

"I"m Roy. And the one worming his way down to ya is Johnny. Are you
hurt anywhere else besides your neck?"

"I-I don't know. Can't feel my legs much, because she's- ..because of
all the weight...*gasp* ..on me.."

"Can you move em?" DeSoto said, pushing a large marble chuck away
from his head as he crouch crawled slowly past the obstacles in his
way on the escalator's bed using Johnny's feeble penlight as a guide.

"Think so.. I got two feet.. right?" Leo joked.

Roy smiled and pushed on another block in his way. Something
above his head shifted and dust and sheets of leftover water rained
down onto his helmeted head.

The trapped man gave a scream. So did a few others between him
and Roy. They were muffled, detracted moans. DeSoto began shouting.  
"Cap! I hear other victims!" he reported into his radio.

##I know that, pal. Some of the conscious have relayed to us the same
story. We're more than working on it. Can you tell if some of them are inside
the escalator with you three?## Hank asked in a rush of interference on
their private band.

"No way of knowing.. All the water still coming down's making everything
echoey.." Roy said, hanging onto Johnny's shoe as the smaller paramedic
in front of him slowly wormed a torturous path open in front of them.

##The gear's coming down. O2, and the splint and trauma boxes. We've
got em on the new scoop stretcher. It's compact enough to reach you guys.##

"Just in the nick of time.. What would we have done if this whole mess occurred
yesterday?" DeSoto mumbled through the open airwave.

Cap was grace itself and knew enough not to reply.

Several stuffy, wet minutes later, Gage encountered another obstacle. A soft one
in the darkness. He spat out the penlight in his mouth, shifting it to his free glove.
"Roy! I think I reached someone..." he gasped.

"Is it her?" Roy asked, somewhere next to his waist under the marble.

Johnny squirmed his way even further, crawling head down along the jammed 
toothed metal stairs. He encountered a steamy copper pool of red near an elbow. It 
was flowing striped along the grooves as it ran down into the mechanical works beneath 
the escalator. One that was far too big for hopeful encouragement. "Leo. What's 
she wearing? We think we're near ya!"

"B-blue..dress, and stockings.* gasp* ...I'm smelling roses.." said the man with
a sob."Why did she have to go and wear that now? It smells ..so nice.." and he 
started crying.

Johnny fell silent as he reached into the larger gap around the broken form of the 
woman in front of him. He could smell the older woman's delicate perfume, too. His 
penlight beam found a bony white, concave shape, that looked like a curved plate, 
stained scarlet. And a mass of silver hair.
It was a badly crushed skull, denuded of skin and scalp. Gage lifted up his head 
with a grimace when he recognized a large patch of gray tissue lying apart from it. 
"Roy.. this is her. Definitely dead. Leo! Can you feel me touching you? I got a dark
brown courderoy pants leg in my gloves and I'm tugging it a bit.."

There was another pause in the dripping blackness. "That's....not me." whispered
Leo.

Johnny reached around and found the clothes shears from his holster at his side
and began cutting to expose a femoral pulse site in the limb. It revealed
just a leg and nothing else. "Roy... No second victim. I got no torso.." he said
in a strained voice, accepting the rope Cap and the others were feeding down to 
them as they worked. 

"Can you still get by?" Roy said, keeping his partner focused on their task.

"Yes." 

A crackled from the HT met his ears. Hank was talking again. ##Stoker's
on the way down to you with a bundle of extra hydraulic braces. He's got
a radio with him. He's gonna help ya move debris and those bodies 
out of your way!##

Roy closed his eyes and crawled past the blood and what used to be
two people, groping ahead for Leo's breathing ribcage. The man's sounds of struggle 
were almost soothing amid the horror as returned silence surrounded the two
firemen as the great pile of heavy flooring above them continued settling. 
"Understood ya, Cap!" reported back Roy. "We...won't be needing the saw.."

Gage focused on a vague movement in the dripping shadows. He soon 
laid a hand on a moving stomach. It was Leo and the dead woman's shoulders were 
pressing heavily down on him. Johnny shoved her off him with a slow push. 
Leo screamed in pain but his gasping immediately quieted and his panicky 
breathing began to slow down. "Easy! It's ok. I got her off of ya.." Johnny told him. 
"Just keep holding still. Are you bleeding from anywhere?"

Leo chuckled under the flashlight's beam as Roy directed it onto his face.
"None that's mine, fireman. Thanks for coming so fast. Being alone like that
was driving me crazy." he blinked. "I've always hated small spaces..."
Then he cramped up when his neck gave him a spasm. "Oh!"

"Just the neck?" Gage said, running his hands over Leo's head, sides
and limbs, looking for trouble spots even as he held the man still.

"Yeah." said Leo. "Not bad.. just....real annoying.." and he shivered.

Johnny found a bad laceration on Leo's lower leg. He stopped the
hemorrhaging with thick layers of dressing and wraps. "All right, Leo.
Move your feet for me.."

He did. 

"That's a good sign." Roy said, reaching over to Leo's throat to take
a carotid pulse after peeling a dusty glove off. "Let's see how you're
doing. We've got a man coming down here with a stretcher and we'll
bundle you up and get you outta here, ok?"

"Ok by me." smiled Leo. "That's real service fellas." He was sweaty and 
chilled. 

Roy couldn't tell if that was from pipe water or perspiration, so he took 
the man's smile as a gauge of apparent vigor. "Johnny, 120 and rapid.
But regular."  He lifted his walkie talkie. "Cap, we're gonna need
permission and then IV supplies down here."

##Lopez's got Rampart on the line. As soon as Stoker gets a clear
path using those braces, that box's next! Brackett's on Channel One.##

Gage immediately flipped over frequencies. "Rampart,..*cough* This is
squad 51. How do you read?"

--------------------------------------------------------------------------------


Photo: Cramped view from stair level looking up an escalator.

Photo: Men in hardhats working in a tight underground place.

Photo: Gage treating a man using his penlight amid a jumble of debris.

Photo: Roy stopping the bleeding from a man's head. 

Photo: Johnny Gage, head down in a hole, digging.

***********************************************************  
From :  Roxy Dee <laterrapincabesa@hotmail.com> 
Sent :  Monday, April 25, 2005 3:59 PM 
Subject :  [EmergencyTheaterLive] The Sharp Report~~ 


Kel Brackett had completely forgotten the leather jacket he was still wearing 
from the parking lot. He had been almost to Joe Early's car to get his presentation 
items for the paramedic recertification meeting when the call came through about
the disaster at the Beverly Center. Local authorities couldn't yet give him casualty
numbers so Brackett put out a full alert to all hospitals within a ten mile radius
around the shopping center to cover for the information gap. 

He had told Dixie McCall to expect victims arriving in taxis and buses in addition to 
out of county non paramedic attendant ambulance services working along side 
their usual fleet of fire department rescue squads. Now his attention focused on
the first voice to reach him from the site. "I read you loud and clear, 51. Go ahead."`	

##Rampart we have a male victim approximately 30 years of age. He's suffering from 
a neck injury and multiple lacerations following a suspended concrete shopping 
mall sidewalk collapse. All bleeding has been controlled and we're working on
getting him immobilized. Vitals signs are :  Pulse 120 and rapid, palpable to the brachial
artery only. Respirations are 20 and shallow and he's heavily diaphoretic. However, he's
fully conscious. Permission to start an I.V until we can extricate him to a safer location
and can get to the rest of our equipment.## said Johnny Gage.

Kel heard the sounds of moaning over the comm line from multiple victims and
the hair raising distinctness of deep throated structural damage settling. "O.k, 51.
Start an I.V. with Ringer's. Does your victim have any signs of head injury?"

##Negative, Rampart. Just the shock symptoms.##

"Administer 5 milligrams MS I.V. for pain as needed, 51. Get me a BP as soon as it's
possible and transport ASAP."

##10-4, Rampart. I.V. with Ringer's and 5 mgs MS I.V. for pain as ordered.##

Kel forged ahead. "Johnny, how many people are involved at your location? Do you
need a doctor out there on scene?"

##Doc, we've dozens or more entrapped with a large number of Code F's. Our
injured may possibly number into the hundreds, best guess. I'd say yes 
from what we know already. FD Command's still mobilizing heavy equipment
so I don't have better figures for you yet.##

"Understood, 51. I'm coming out to you. I have a nurse remaining on the line with
your HT channel for any new victims you'll find. " Brackett said loudly to be heard
over the incident noise he heard pouring in over the intercom speaker. "I'll be
there in twenty minutes..."

##10-4, Rampart.## said Johnny.

------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
Mike Stoker had reached Roy and Johnny's location quickly on his own rappelling
rope. He opened the I.V. box and handed out an infusion set and plastic bag of 
Ringer's. An MS syringe was in between his teeth. "DeSoto. I've a few more of these
in my pocket with a few of atropine and epinephrine for any others." he said. "Those loose 
sections we passed, I've jymmied tight with portajacks. The way up's still workable." 
He shoved the scoop containing the I.V. case and an ambu bag with an unopened yellow 
plastic shock sheet nearer to the two paramedics with a foot. "I'll get his O2 set up ASAP.
Here's another flashlight.."

"Thanks, Stoker. Sometimes I think you're more paramedic than engine man nowadays.
Leo, relief's on the way and I've got a blanket for us to wrap you in." replied Roy. "It'll
only take as long as my starting an I.V. on you here into your arm."

"A-Appreciate it, fellas.." gasped Leo. "When are we getting outta here?" and he trembled
underneath Roy's head stabilizing hands.

"Once we've got your neck secured in a collar and into this scoop stretcher? Less
than ten minutes. Mike, this fireman at your feet, has been shoring up the passageway
we all came down through. Your trip up should be short and sweet." replied Johnny,
finishing his recheck of Leo's condition by roving feel. "That afternoon air and sunlight'll
be just as wonderful as you imagine, I promise."

Leo sighed and closed his eyes. He didn't even flinch when the I.V. needle found a 
tourniquet encouraged vein. Leo's breathing shallowed a bit as the stress from
the ordeal started taking its toll.

Mike reached for the oxygen regulator valve but he didn't yet crack it. 
"Is the power off yet?" he asked Gage.

"Let me find out..." Johnny said ruefully, surprised at himself for not checking
on their local safety conditions. He spoke into the walkie talkie. "Squad 51 to
Engine 51..."

##Go ahead, Squad 51.## came Cap's reply.

"What's the utilities status up there? We now have the O2 with us.."

##Clear to go, all the power and the restaurant's gas have been shut off.##

"O.k, Cap. Go ahead and watch for a rope tug in ten minutes when we have him bundled up." 
he reported. "Stoker's gonna be the point man."

##Believe me, I'm all eyes.## said Hank.

In a lower tone, Johnny spoke quietly, so Leo couldn't hear him. "How bad is everything 
showing for more live victims?"

##Conditions are serious. Numbers are lower than we'd hoped. Mall officials 
have surveillance coverage that the casino captured of exactly how many people were 
on the walkway when it fell. Looks like the bar saved a few by being where it was. Hang 
tight for more info. The chief's talking now...##

"Standing by.." said Gage and then he concentrating on helping Roy get Leo situated into
his cervical collar. "Leo, here's some O2. It'll get rid of most of that stuffiness you're feeling.
Don't try to help us at all. Let us do all the work getting you into this metal stretcher here, ok?"

Leo didn't speak but he blinked and waved a few dusty fingers in weak 
understanding under Johnny's new flashlight beam.

"Roy, hand me your clothes shears would ya? Leo's sleeve is caught real good
in a crack between the stair teeth. I'm lying on mine."

DeSoto gave Johnny his pair of blunted scissors.

Mike Stoker took the spent pain medication syringe and I.V. needle from Roy
and dropped it into the I.V. box's disposal bin. "Fellas, I'll watch his respiration 
rate while you two move him. I've a good line of sight from over here." he said 
flipping over onto his side and keeping his covered head low and away from a jutting 
shard of glass. 

He began to dig with his gloves to create a smooth runway in the marble and plaster pieces 
on top of the stairs so the two paramedics had more than enough headroom in which
to maneuver.

A minute later, Leo fell asleep as the pain med he had been given started working.

The three firemen soon had the dead woman and the severed leg rolled against 
one of the guide walls and out of the way. They used a second shock sheet to mark their 
locations and covered them respectfully.

------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- 

Battalion One continued to update Captain Stanley. ##I used to work for Belger Cartage 
Service. Hank, they've got cranes we can use and they're only blocks away. Call em in.##

"You got it, chief." said Captain Stanley. He got busy mobilizing that construction crew
tip as fast as he could.

Soon, two cranes smashed through the mall's lobby windows, showering glass 
onto the bloody floor. They were driven inside until they reached the pile of dusty debris 
mounded up in the middle of the rotunda and then they started working.
Operators lowered cabled pulleys. 

As each skywalk section was raised a few feet, rescuers shined lights underneath 
and continued looking for life amid the many dead.

Eventually, a rescuer heard sounds of an injured man below an unraised slab. 

"We've got a live one!" the rescuer yelled. 

A jackhammer pounded through the concrete above him. As it bore nearer, its 
sharp tip brushed unknowingly between the victim's left arm and ribs. Then it knifed 
between his legs. The frightened man feared the next one would pierce his spine. 
"You idiots!" he hollered. "Shut that jackhammer off!" 

When the section lifted, cool air and light washed over the man's features and he
fought down nausea.

He closed his eyes, not wanting to see the bodies. "Get me out of here.." he
choked. "Please, just get me out of here. I can't stand it."

The man was the first live victim freed by the working crews.

Six others were located by using a police search dog held on his leash by
Vince Howard. The dog, named Luke, suddenly lifted his head and began barking
towards the escalator slope where Station 51's crew was known to be working 
beneath. "What's the matter boy?" asked Vince.

The dog started growling at a distant commotion in the shadow of dust haze still hanging
over the scene. Vince lifted his radio. "Murphy, Dwyer..something odd's going
over there by the casino entrance. Go check it out. Luke's on a defensive mode for some
reason. Watch yourself. It may be an imminent cave in over that area or something. He's
acting too strangely for it to just be victim contact behavior."

##Copy that..## replied Vince's mall partners and they moved to investigate. Along the
way, they helped bystanders who were leading away the slightly wounded. The police 
officers showed them the best route outlined by the fire department for getting out of the 
mall through the restaurant's abandoned kitchen.

Luke growled louder and eagerly leaped against his trace when he felt Vince
finally give him seek and scenting room.

------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Hank Stanley had just finished acknowledging his chief's report when a low rumbled
sound cascaded over the roar of the lifting cranes. He saw the broken pile of debris draping
over the escalator, suddenly start V-ing downhill in a further collapse. He could just see
Mike Stoker's head start to poke out as he began to drag the scoop stretcher out of the top
landing hole. He didn't hear the danger over all the noise and din coming from the two
lifting cranes. "No! Mike, get back!"

But the stretcher struggling engineer didn't hear him.

Captain Stanley dashed forward and shoved Stoker back down the escalator. 
Then his head shot up in alarm as the sound of bolts snapping zinged around him. 

He felt a change bodily through the air as something nearby in the darkness around Mike 
ripped free from its moorings. He didn't wait to see what it was, and started scrambling deeper.

Cap threw himself onto the escalator stairs inside the hole alongside the scoop stretcher as the 
opening leading to the outside suddenly sealed off with a roar. Pancaking heavily to the floor, 
another skywalk section spewed a gust of wind and a huge dust cloud as it slid to the mall floor
over their location.

Then, followed a sickening silence. 

 "Cap! You ok?!" shouted Stoker as he grabbed his captain's 
jacket and hauled him over onto his back.
 
"Yeah.. d*mned fool construction workers.. They're hurrying too much! Now WE gotta
got dug outta here.." coughed Cap. "Come on, let's get back down to Roy and Johnny
to give them the bad news. How's your noggin? I tackled you pretty hard there.."

"I'm fine. So's Leo. I still got my hand on him."
 
Cap told the Battalion Chief what had happened over his radio.

##Of all the-- Ok, Hank. We'll get you and your men out as soon as we can. 
Keep in constant contact with me through all developments as you check out
your situation. ##

"Will do, Engine 51, out."

Roy, Johnny, Mike and Cap met in a ring of faces above Leo's sleeping one under
an umbrella of torchlight. "Any way out the bottom of the escalator?" Cap asked
Gage. 

Johnny wasn't too pleased after learning that they were all trapped
like all the other mall victims under the debris pile."We haven't gone down that 
far yet. We stopped at Leo's level, remember?" he gestured. 

Cap sighed in frustration, grunting as he tried to get his bulk comfortable in
a space that was too small for him. "Ok, exploration'll be our new priority. Stoker. 
Stay with him. Shout if his breathing changes for the worse.."

"Right, Cap."

Johnny, Roy and Hank slowly untied their ropes from their jacket belts and they
started the slow process of crawling down the buried escalator. "Hey! I think I'm
seeing daylight..." shouted Johnny over his back, from where he lay in the lead
on his stomach.

"Where?! I don't see any. Oh, there it is. Let's go ch--" began Hank.

A sharp report and echo ripped through the chucks of debris above their heads
with a whine of seared air and cut off his words. All three men ducked, fearing another 
cave in. "What was that?!" Johnny spat in surprise.

"I don't know. I'm gonna go ahead and look.." said Stanley. He inched forward and stuck 
his head through a small hole shining in full sunlight. "Maybe it's one of the diggers trying 
to dig us out already."

*Ping!!* bit another odd sound. Johnny watched as Cap suddenly jerked as a small boulder
of "ceiling" gave way in front of him in a cloud of dust, making him drop his helmeted head to 
his elbows in a protective stomach down move.

"Watch it, Cap!" Gage yelled. "You all right?"

Hank didn't react.

"Cap?!" shouted Roy, squirming beside Gage along the small cramped space in 
the sunlight in a sudden panic. "Can you hear us?!"

"What's wrong with him?" hissed Johnny as the two of them clambored up to their
captain's side. "He's seems like he's out cold! But I swear nothing fell on him."

"I don't know yet."
Roy's probing hands slid lower underneath Cap's jacket after they had assured themselves
that he was still breathing. They came away bright with blood. "What th--?" 

Johnny drew out his shears and cut away Hank's shirt over that place. He startled over
a wound that was cratered like a geyser's mouth, bubbling out air and blood. "Roy? 
Get your head down! This is a gunshot wound!!"

As if to taunt his words, another ricchochet hit very near where they were pinned, through
the hole of sunlight and the whizzing bullet spat angrily around them as it spent its velocity
before embedding itself into the softer debris pile over their heads.

Roy and Johnny unceremoniously hauled the unconscious Cap, face down, back into
the escalator's smothering darkness by his pants belt. "Mike, get back! That noise's 
not debris settling out! It's gunfire. And Cap's been hit!" Johnny shouted.

"What!?" said the startled engineer.

"Shhh!! Get out an occlusive dressing. He's got a sucking chest wound, Mike. Right here 
under my hand." Johnny hissed, suddenly whispering to hide their location. Roy was already 
handling securing a good airway on Cap using an oral one from his turnout pocket. 
"Gimme the other O2 line off Leo's tank. On second thought give me that ambu too, in 
case Cap decides to stop breathing on us. He's out real deep."

Stoker moused down and did what he was told. 

A moving shadow covered the daylit hole forty feet away from them, making the 
three firemen freeze their positions right where they lay on the tooth stairs in fright.

::Oh mother of..:: thought Gage, as he started looking up. The gut feeling about 
who might be there with them wasn't a pleasant one. 
 
**********************************************************************************
From :  patti keiper <pattik1@hotmail.com> 
Sent :  Wednesday, April 27, 2005 3:40 PM 
Subject :  [EmergencyTheaterLive] Pinhole Operations.. 
 
 A grizzled man of fifty whirled on his partner in crime and thrust 
the arm that was still holding the smoking silencer down forcefully. 
"Mugsy! Knock it off right now! Put your piece away!  What in blazes 
do you think you're doing ?!" he said from behind a pillar in the rotunda 
a short distance away from where the mob of firefighters, rescuers 
and crane operators were working.

"Lance, it's that d*mned dog of da fuzz's. The one they're using to search.
I swear I saw him stalkin us from that hole. I saw his black fur coat, I swear. 
If we don't put a bullet in his head, he'll spoil da plan even before
we get inside the casino." said the younger thug with the twisted 
nose and uneven crew cut. "You know how they're trained to sniff 
out hidden guns.."

"Are you as stupid as you look? No, don't answer that." fumed
the gray haired ex con. "Lance, you're definitely not thinking 
again. We can't waste the mutt out in the open like this."

"Listen to me, Mugsy, no one will think anything of a d*mn bleeding dog 
once we nail him. There's too much danger and instability around
this area. You saw a part of that whole mess cave in. We'll bury him in junk.
Then we can still circle around and get right back into the wall ventilation 
shaft. No one's paying attention to us since we put these on." Lance insisted, 
gripping the construction worker hard hat he was wearing that matched 
the team of construction workers milling about on the rubble with blow 
torches and shovels. "I'll just put a clever bead on him at close range."

"Ok.. ok,..you win. Anything to calm ya down. Ok, Lance. Go have 
a look but don't use ANY lead unless you're face to face with that mutt 
and he's slobberin on ya. And I mean it, Lancey boy. Get it into your
thick skull. No more guns out in the open! Not even when we get
the high sign from the rest of da guys to slip inta the casino to start 
knocking it off."

"Ain't that why we sabotaged those sidewalks to come down in the 
first place? To give us some working cover in case we had ta knock 
off a few people wid these.." he said, patting the L shaped bulge of
his gun crammed half hazardly into his dusty shirt pocket. 
"I definitely got it now, boss."
 
"You sure didn't a minute ago."

"Cover me.." said the eager Lance with a scarred eye wink. He 
started making his way back up to the hole that he had spotted the black 
colored movement within, using a shovel and fake digging to blend in 
whenever an alert rescuer glanced up in his direction. "Once we get 
that roving fuzz dog outta the way, it'll be smooth sailin', boss. He's 
the only complication left, between us and millions, and you know it."

Mugsy mumbled to himself, "Cover him, he says.. Cover him..
Why did I ever agree to school this sorry excuse of a joe 
inta the thieving business while I was still stuck in the slammer?
He's hopeless!!" Another mental voice in his head replied back.
::Because his uncle'll mark ya for a driveby hit if you don't.::

Right then, a piercing whistle split the noisy air from a fireman wearing
a white helmet and workers everywhere suddenly froze in place. 
Even the two laden cranes became still and every single 
person in the area fell silent.

Mugsy dashed over to the foot of the debris pile. "Lance! It's another
listening check. Hold still up there, ya moron, or you'll stand out like a 
sore--"

A passing fire captain with the number 99 on his black helmet 
glanced up at him while walking by with a handful of mall blueprints.
"Problem, mister?"

Mugsy put on his best street smile. "No problem, fireman, sir. It's just
that my partner's part deaf from running da cranes tonight. I was just 
giving him a heads up for the check, sir."

"I see." said the older fireman. "Well, tell him to keep his eyes out
for signs of an engine company, number 51, up there. They've been
pinned inside the escalator track and may find a way out somewhere 
near your buddy up there. Have your man radio in if he spots any 
sign of movement." 

"Will do, sir. I'll tell da whole crew while I'm at it. Don't you worry."

The fire captain nodded and hurried away with his plans of the electrical 
infrastructure, ducting and pipes layout of the rotunda area beneath
the disaster area. "Be ready for when we break through into the escalator
from the casino vault. There's a maintenance tunnel that we're gonna use 
that runs in between to get all of 51's trapped men and their victim out. We just
got the casino manager's blessing to use their secured access routes."

Mugsy's eyes bugged out but he quickly turned away before his plot 
hungry, surprised face, could betray him.

Lance, in the meantime, was complaining loudly to himself up on
the debris pile where he stood with his hands on his hips while
he impatiently waited for the survivor listening check to be over. 
"No pieces, he says. No wastin' the cop dog out in the open, he says. 
What does an honest crook like me haveta do to get any fun in anymore?
Do I haveta start pickin the pockets of all these dead people lying around
to even get somethin to eat tonight?" His litany of grievances against his 
fellow criminals kept on as his frustration grew. 

Some of it carried into the hole and down the escalator to the trapped
firemens' ears. Johnny Gage held out a shushing hand and frowned as he
overheard the now oddly suspicious sounding non rescuer voice. 
He kept his other one on Cap's neck, monitoring his pulse.

In a flash of inspiration, Mike Stoker pulled out his HT, switched it
to emergency channel nine and then he bound its talk button firmly,
with a thick strap of I.V. tape so it would remain open and on . He tossed the
radio neatly up the escalator until it landed just short of the sunny spot Cap
had discovered. 

Gage nearly cried out a warning when he figured out what Stoker
was up to. But then nodded in affirmation fiercely in agreement.

Roy was busy keeping the drugged Leo quiet and still with soft whispering.

Johnny lifted his handy talkie to his ear and started listening on channel
nine as Stoker's open line began registering. ::What an idea..
Stoker, you're simply wasted working our engine. You shoulda made
cap a long time ago.:: thought Gage.

##......six guys to knock off a joint as small as this one, he says...## came
Lance's complaining voice. ##Not everyday you get to stir up some real 
trouble like making those sidewalks come down...Now if only that d*mned 
mutt would stick out his head out again like a nice doggy so I can blow 
it clean off his stinking, fully police trained shoulders!! ## boomed
the voice as the cacaphony of rescue work suddenly resumed overhead,
releasing the criminal to freely voice his frustrated opinions again.

## ...Lance,....## came a second quieter thick New York accented voice.
##..You're not seeing anything and you know it. Get your butt back down 
here. I think I'm onta something real big. Seems these fireboys are gonna
do all of the work FOR us so we won't have to...##

##Really, Mugsy? Ok,.. I-I ..I think I got him though. There's blood on these
marble rocks here. The dog's gotta be dead. I saw him drop real
fast after I shot up this here hole real good..##

##..Fine, .. That's great. Now get down here before I crack ya up on
the side of the head and leave ya for all these rescuers ta find and
deal with ya.. Listen close ya big lug. The Treasure Chest's gonna 
deliver right into our ever lovin greedy hands, my good man. And
soon, too. Come down and gimme your ear.##

##Coming, boss.. Now what's so all fired important that's got ya
all steamed up like a---##

The voices over the open HT faded into resumed sounds of loud rescue
work as the two mystery men left the range of Stoker's HT's transmitter.

Mike Stoker leapt up the escalator steps and snatched his HT back
down, turning it over to 51's rescue channel. "Engine 51 to Battalion
One!  Did you copy that? Those were perpetrators with guns in
the area up to funny business.  But we've a Code I down with a 
gunshot wound. He's critical! Over.."

##Just relax son, we heard but we don't completely understand. 
Are you saying you've a fireman who's been shot up?##

Gage broke into the channel on his own radio. "Yes, Battalion.
Our captain. He's taken a bullet to a lung. We're safe for the
moment but there's at least six of these guys running around by
you! Listen to the recording again and then tell the police ASAP.
Those two we caught on the air are only a few who're directly 
responsible for this whole mall disaster!"

##Battalion, Squad 51, 10-4. Stepping up your rescue's priority.##

Gage continued transmitting. "Chief, there's a hole to the outside
that's too small to break through that Cap found. We need
more medical supplies to handle him or he'll go sour on
us real fast."

##Where son?##

"Watch for a fireman's overcoat! We're tossing it out!" shouted
Stoker. He crawled to the sunny hole in the debris pile and peeled
off his coat and he kicked it outside holding his radio's handstrap
in his teeth. He watched it tumble down the debris pile even as he
put his helmet back onto his filthy head.

##Got you pinpointed boys. Hang on. Give me a report of your man's
injuries! I've just learned that a doctor sent for is only a minute away.##

Mike sighed where he lay in gratitude, and he let his dusty head thunk
down onto the escalator steps dotted wet with Cap's blood."I'm glad that
worked.."

"And I'm glad we're all safe..." Gage echoed, turning back to tending
Cap's wound and airway. "Stoker, come help me prop Cap semi seated.
He'll breathe easier that way. The bullet didn't exit so we've just this
single pneumo of his to deal with. So far, both lungs are still inflating 
from what I can make out, but that's gonna change real fast. He's got 
a lot of bright red froth present in his mouth and nose and his breathing 
rate's already over 20 a minute."

DeSoto picked up his radio. "Not good. Battalion One, Squad 51. We're 
located on stair set number seventy two. The hole we reached ya through's 
been punched through a break in one of the escalator's outer walls. 
Nothing short of a whole night's blow torching will make that hole any 
bigger I'm afraid. It's only a head wide."

##We've an alternative, 51. Hang tight.There's a tunnel that's 
accessible beneath the escalator stairs that connects with the 
casino nearby. We're making arrangements to get to you through 
there. The stair plates themselves will cut apart easily for freeing you. 
I'm estimating we'll be at your side in less than fifteen minutes. As long
as it takes to cut through the steel decking inside a vault's secondary
door that leads into that tunnel.## said Battalion One. "DeSoto, go meet 
your doctor at your hole's breach. He's being shown the way to it."

"10-4, Battalion." said Roy eagerly. "Johnny? Did you hear that?" he grinned.

"It's about time Brackett arrived. Hey, Leo, naptime's over. The doctor's
in!" he smiled. He touched Leo's forehead with drumming fingers.

"Hmm?" sighed Leo. "Terrific.. I'll tell my wife to bake him a ..a..cake.." he
grimaced sleepily from inside his cervical collar. "yeah, that's what I'll..."
Leo fell back asleep at once but his face was now truly relaxed for the
first time since the firemen came.

Kel Brackett's welcome shadow blocked out the sunlight. Two blood
pressure cuffs and another O2 tank were firmly shoved inside and onto 
the escalator's steps by work gloved hands. "Roy? Johnny? I've been 
updated. Come get these and the new tank. Gimme your fireman's vitals 
first. The others said that he took a bullet into the chest.."

"Mid left lateral, doc!" shouted Roy. "Breath sounds still on both sides.."

"Is he breathing?" asked Kel, pressing his face against the torn
metal hole to try and see around the corner.

"Yeah, but rapidly. Borderline." said Gage. "Bloody froth's now becoming
apparent in larger and larger amounts."

"Could be just a hemopneumothorax.. That's better than a tension pneumo
any day of the week."grumbled Brackett. "How's your other man doing?" 

"He's stable. Sleeping." Stoker replied, quickly accepting all the
medical gear rescuers were handing him around Brackett's
shoulders.

Brackett nodded. "Leave him be then after the first set of vitals. We've 
gotta get those I.V.s going into your second victim."

"Doc, it's Captain Stanley.." said Roy. "Knowing who he is'll help out
here."

"He's forty two years old at one hundred ninety five pounds if I remember
correctly. It sure does, Roy. Thanks. Start two large bore of normal 
saline on him in both arms. I don't know yet if we're gonna have to rapid 
sequence intubate him or not. We'll see how he does after we've got
some light fluids into him and a whole lot more of that O2. The d*mn 
EKG monitor won't fit inside, so I guess we'll have to do without it."

"No we won't, doc.." said Stoker. "We can go get him and lay him
in front of you, wounded side towards you, so you can see him for 
yourself. The patched lines will reach in that far."

"Get it done, boys. I've got the defib right here that can work
for him in the same manner a little faster. I wanna see whether
or not that bullet has compromised his pericardium. Any signs of
jugular vein distension?"

"Not yet.." replied Roy.

"Better and better. Get him up to me, pronto.." said Kel, gesturing
hasty hands through the ragged hole. He only moved aside long
enough for brightly lit construction lamps to be inserted past him 
from their connected portable generator.

All the firemen squinted painfully in the blasting glare. 
But they were grinning, too, for Cap was gonna live.

----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Battalion One stood in the doorway of the Treasure Chest Casino
next to the casino manager. The small lobby of the casino was
dotted with medical people and firemen caring for the walking
wounded either seated or lying on the carpeting.

He extended his hand out to him. "I wanna thank you for opening
your business to us, sir."

"Anytime. Anything else I can do besides getting you that vault
tunnel access beneath the rotunda?" asked the well dressed casino
man.

"Not at the moment. I'll give you the names and numbers of exactly
who's coming into those secured areas of yours for your surveillance
people. I've a man coming with that information right now."

"Thank you, sir." said the manager. "But you can have him work
with Mr. Blaze here. He's our surveillance head. Please, use
as many security guards as you need, too, to handle your
equipment. Some of them are first aid trained and are available
to help you stretcher out your people. And all of them know the way 
to where you're going. They have to remain present throughout your 
rescue attempt. The vault's a very sensitive area."

The radio head set festooned Mr. Blaze and Battalion One shook hands.

"I understand. We'll follow your procedures to the letter, sirs." said
Battalion. "Let's just hope that you can distinguish all your casino 
guests from those we detected earlier in the mall as being highly
suspect. One of our men's been shot by them."

"Believe me, our cameras miss nothing. Even more so now that
we've been alerted by the police." reassured the casino manager.

Right then, Vince Howard and Luke paced up. "We'll be keeping post
at the main door, gentlemen. No one with a gun will get through. Not with 
him standing watch." said the streetcop, pointing to the dark coated
German Sheperd seated at his feet.

The group of men glanced around at the glittering casino surrounding
them. Not a single slot machine player looked up or acknowledged
the wounded being tended near them by fully uniformed firepeople.

"Is this a normal reaction from everybody?" Battalion asked Vince.

"Oh, yeah. Medicals happen in the casino all the time . And the regulars
get real used to that. I saw a man suffer a fatal heart attack, falling out
of his chair once. The player sitting next to his machine simply took
over the man's vacated spot and started playing on his credits 
without even looking behind her to see how he was doing. 
Gamblers are real weird like that." said the policeman. "They either
ignore the clearly obvious, or they cross themselves on behalf
of the sick or dead ones leaving by ambulance."

The chief frowned uneasily after learning that.

The casino manager and the head of surveillance both nodded in
agreement, enjoying his reaction. "This way, please.." they said
after controlling their exchanged glance of humor.

The group of rescuers and the firemen were suddenly flanked by 
four security guards wearing ear bud radios who indicated the way
to go silently.

A female security officer held out an electronic name card which
triggered a magnetic door that opened onto a long metal lined
hallway. "The way in's at the end. But hold up a minute, I have to
call down a camera first, gentlemen.." And she triggered a hidden
toggle in a sleeve. "Security to 100 and Surveillance."

##Go for 100.##

"LACoFire's entering secured hallway. Six in number."

##100 copies.##

"Ok.." she smiled. "We're clear to go. I'll be here to
swipe open the doors with my access card for any stage
you need during the rescue. I'm the one going into Softcount
with you. Mr. Blaze, if you'll go ahead of me." said the security
guard.

"Thanks, Peri."

"My pleasure, sir.." she replied, holding open a second thick door
leading into the mantrap area before the vault room.

Mr. Blaze went inside with the rescuers but not the casino manager.

He went back to talk with Vince Howard to learn more about the
supposed heist that was planned to happen sometime soon
in the mall that day by the mysterious rotunda shooters.

Peri waited until every fireman was crowded into the L shaped
three-way doored access space. "The door behind us will have
to be fully closed before I can open this one. Only one of these
doors can open at any one time. Just let it shut behind you."

Marco Lopez, Chet Kelly, along with the four others carrying a K-12
and wall cracking gear shoved up tightly against each other in
the small space to allow the outer door to relock itself while Peri 
called out again to her dispatcher and the surveillance room. 
"100, ready to enter cart storage and Softcount.." she stated into
her radio's microphone.

The hidden voice acknowledged. "100 copies. Entering Softcount."

Mr. Blaze surged ahead into a room full of people who were counting
large sums of money on a clear acrylic table located in the center
of the room. They wore dark navy tunics with no pockets and they
looked up in surprise at the sight of fully dressed firefighters entering
the vault area.

The black tunic count supervisor stepped forward to Mr. Blaze. "Is there
a 10-92, Mr. Blaze?"

"No, there isn't a fire. But a walkway's collapsed out in the mall, trapping
a few firefighters inside a buried escalator. We're going to go get
them using the old utility tunnel behind that wall.." he pointed.

"We'll move the dollar bill acceptor carts out of your way then.."
smiled the vault supe. She motioned for several workers to leave
the sorting table to push the wheeled, pock hole covered metal
carts out of the way of the steel panelled wall Mr. Blaze had 
pointed to.

Kelly and Marco, meanwhile, were goggle eyeing the money bundles
sitting in clear acrylic trays on the money sorting machines and in
the workers' hands and all the eye bud domed cameras that almost
completely covered the ceiling inside the windowless room. "Man,
look at all the bread, Marco. Even just one bundle of that and we'll
won't have to work for an entire year..." Kelly whispered.

"Look at the muscles on the vault guards, Chet. If you try anything you
won't leave TRACTION for a whole year.. Mind your own business.
Johnny and Roy need us to be fast focused for Cap's sake, remember?"

"I can admire from afar, can't I?" Chet asked Peri. 

"I guess.." she smiled. "Even we can't touch the cash."

Soon, the wall was courdoned off with canvas tarps and the saws
bit deeply into the metal sheeting concealing the old access tunnel
which led to the escalator's housing room. The high pitched
whine they made cut sharply through the noise of all the money sorters 
chattering and the white noise hum of the money sorting machines.

Lopez tried not to look up as one of the camera domes lenses rotated
to focus on their cutting point. He felt more on display than he had ever
felt before in his entire life.

"You get used to it.." said Peri. "Keep in mind that they're here to help 
as well as to watch all the money." 

"Are those other two guards in the room watching the sorters 
so that they don't steal anything?" asked Kelly, swallowing dryly.

"No, they're watching to make sure money doesn't fall on
the floor to end up under a table or machine someplace where 
the cameras can't see it anymore. The counts will be off then." 
she explained. "It's up to Surveillance and the cameras to watch 
for wrong doing. Not us."

"Oh.."

Lopez elbowed Chet for being forward and he changed the subject 
while they waited for the wall crews to cut down to the hidden
tunnel door. "Are you one of these first aider guards Mr. Blaze's
manager was talking about?"

"I am. I help out now and then when I can."

"Good, cause we may need you as a go-for between our firemen
and your Mr. Blaze here. I don't think our radio frequencies match
up enough on our radioes to let us talk to each other."

"She can do that.." affirmed Mr. Blaze without turning around from
where he was watching the other firefighters work.

Marco and Chet startled. "He's sure got good ears."

"That's why he's head of surveillance..." Peri winked.

Soon, the metal sheeting of the vault room was folded down
out of the way by eager boots and Marco and Chet promptly
forgot about the female security guard and the James Bond
like Mr. Blaze.

Lopez swept his radio out of his pocket. "HT 51 to Squad 51.
We're halfway there. We're into the tunnel at stairway number..."

Mr. Blaze spoke up. "H-Vac Maintenance says this tunnel reaches
stairs level ninety, Mr. Kelly.."

"Ninety.. We're breaking through now with plenty of help.." Kelly
said loudly, impatient to see those who were trapped. "How's
he doing?" he asked before Battalion One could.

##Cap's vitals are holding, Chet. Just concentrate on getting us
outta here..## Gage said half amused. ##Brackett's taking a good
look at him now. We'll let you know as soon as we know.##

Kelly sighed in relief and then he got a shiver. He looked uneasily
at Blaze while he whispered fearfully to Lopez, "Wait a minute,
how did he know my name?"

Peri cleared her throat as she held the light a firefighter had handed
her to light the space behind the wall. "He read your nametag.."
she said sotto voce.

"Oh.. Geeshh." Marco laughed. Chet glared at him.

Mr. Blaze suddenly tilted his head at an incoming transmission,
and so did Peri's. It wasn't loud enough for either Chet nor Marco
to overhear. But their reactions were instantaneous.

Peri spoke up suddenly serious and hard. "I'll stay, sir."

"Then I'll take one of these two. Kelly, come with me. There's been
a development. We need you down in Surveillance ASAP."

"But..."

Peri took hold of Chet's arm. "When Mr. Blaze says go. You go.."
she said.

Chet went.

"Yes, Mr. Kelly. We need you and your radio. You yourself, don't
have to physically do anything. But I am going to ask you to never
talk about what you'll see in the room where we're heading into.
It's all classified information."

"Chet'll be good for that. He forgets everything.." piped up an eager
Marco.

"Good enough." said Blaze, holding open the Softcount door for
the curly haired fireman.

"See you later, Chet.." said Peri. "I'll keep you posted about your friends."

"You do that.." Kelly said feeling more than intimidated by the whole casino
feeling in the vault. The atmosphere had a pall like he would imagine the
secret service would have on any protected government place.

His last sight of the vaulted room was sets of curious eyes from all the
casino vault sorters as they straightened out and organized any wrinkled 
bills they found from the cash boxes they had keyed open.
 
It wasn't long before Battalion contacted Gage over the radio to
tell them to watch out for blow torch fallout from stair set ninety
as plates were removed to gain access between them.

------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

"Squad 51, Battalion One. 10-4. We've got Leo and Cap well
away from that stair section. We're set for ya." said Johnny.

Right then, Brackett gave a shout. "Roy! Get over here. I think Stanley's
coming to.." His gloved hands were examining the bloody 
hole in Hank's chest around the EKG wires attached to him through
the small sunlit tear in the escalator wall. Stoker was holding Cap's
side pressed against it to give the doctor the best working angle 
possible.

"On my way.." said DeSoto.

 ----------------------------------------------------------------------------

Photo: A construction worker, grinning.

Photo: A master mind criminal, dressed as a construction worker.

Photo: Brackett getting onto a paramedic helicopter.

Photo:  Casino tables.

Photo:  The casino manager, amused.

Photo:  The casino slot gaming floor.

Photo:  A security guard sitting at a surveillance console.

Photo:  A long metal lined hallway.

Photo:  A vault full of money.

Photo: Stacks of money.

Photo:  A casino surveillance camera dome.

Photo:  Chet in turnout, working in darkness.

Photo:  A surveillance head man frowning.

Photo: A surveillance room.

*******************************************************************
Date: Thu, 28 Apr 2005 06:26:03 -0700 (PDT) 
From: "Jeff Seltun" <finiterider@yahoo.com>  
Subject:  Relay.. 
 

Johnny Gage had his hands full of moaning Cap. He was
hard pressed to keep the foamy red tinged oxygen mask 
fastened over Hank's nose and mouth. "Keep still a
sec until you're awake all the way. Cap?! Listen to me. You've
been hurt real bad by a-- Roy, he spat his oral out
a few seconds ago.  You talk to him. We've got to concentrate 
to keep both our hands over this chest wound. Air's getting 
in even faster now that he's breathing harder."

Dr. Brackett and Johnny worked fast to tape a strong three sided
seal over the gaping gun shot wound shining in the sunlight.

Roy raised Cap's shoulders gently onto his knees without
getting into his partner's way to ease Hank's sense of suffocation
from the blood sitting in his chest. "I got him.. Hank.. It's Roy. 
You with me yet? I'm gonna hold ya still until you are all the way.."

Brackett spoke sharply, "Stoker, keep that side of his as near to 
me as you can! We've almost sealed this off good enough..."

"How's that?" Mike asked, straining to lift Cap's ribcage high enough
off of the metal stairs for wrapping.

"Perfect.." said Brackett, working intently.

Cap coughed wetly and suddenly made a face of pain at the jarring
he was going through while doctor, paramedic and fireman taped him
up rapidly.

"That's it, Cap. We're done. Welcome back.." smiled Roy. He angled 
a penlight into Cap's eyes to check their responses with Stanley's 
return to consciousness.

Gage finally rocked back onto his heels. "We got that dressing back
into place. It's holding, doc. But for how long?" he frowned, then he 
put on a grin for Cap's benefit as the world came slowly into focus for
Stanley.

"Who punched me?" Hank asked through the reddened oxygen mask. 
"My side's hurting like a real son of a-- wait a minute, we're still under the 
debris pile.." he remembered.

"Yes, we are Cap.. How's your breathing coming?" Roy asked.

"Like I'm....not getting enough.." admitted Hank. "*cough* Come on, tell it
to me straight. How'd I get hurt?"

Johnny and Roy and Stoker and Kel all exchanged looks of who's gonna
break it to him. But Johnny finally relented. "It was a bullet, Cap. Now that you
know I'm not gonna lecture ya as to how important it is for you to lay
absolutely still. Dr. Brackett's here and he's working on ya best he can
until we can all get ya outta here. They're already blow torching us free just
above us from a side tunnel." Gage said, draping a tarp over Cap's head 
so the sparks from the swiftly cutting tool wouldn't land on Cap's face and
be further ignited by the oxygen.

"I've...been..shot?!  By ......whom?" whispered Cap.

"We don't know that yet. But the nearby casino's working on that.
We just got word from Battalion One of possible video coverage."

"Of all the stupid ways to get laid up on the...hhhh." Hank began to 
shiver and his skin grayed a bit. Against his will, his head sagged 
back onto Roy's lap. "How's Leo?"

"Fine, Cap." said Roy. "We just need to fuss over you."

"And what's going on outside? Any more survivors?" Hank said without
opening his eyes. His voice was gurgling.

"Still too soon to tell. Heard about a dog working a while ago.." DeSoto 
said truthfully.

"That's...that's good. They got him here real .....fast.."

"Hank. Do I have your permission to treat you? Surgically if necessary?"
asked Brackett.

"Doc,...you don't have to ask that yet. I'm...awake aren't I?" said a woozy
Stanley.

"Cap, answer the man. It's important." said Gage seriously and loud.

"Yeah.. I guess so. But actually, I feel like ...like ..I'm doing pretty good.. 
Gimme my radio.." Cap ordered weakly.

"Now, Cap,..that can wait...." said Johnny, turning up the flow on Cap's I.V.s.

"Shut up, Gage. Nothing's better than a personal audio on a rescue scene this
bad. There's a lotta stunned firefighters out there pulling out a whole lotta
corpses right now. Let me show them that there's one less they'll haveta
deal with! ..In me... Now hand ..*gasp* ..it over.."

Mike Stoker flipped to the general all call and set the HT down on Cap's
sweating chest. At a nod, he kept his hand on the talk button and pressed it.

Hank opened his eyes as wide as he could. 
"This is Station 51. Wanted to show you all that we appreciate the personal
attention being given for digging ...us out. We have a live one with us and he's 
doing good. About me? I'm talking to ya, aren't I? K- Keep up the good work. 
I'm proud of what ya all are doing for us out there...I couldn't ask for a better 
set of people to bail my whole station out of a tough spot. E-Engine 51 out.."

Cap waved that he was finished and Mike took back his radio. "Thanks, pal.
Had to be done. For morale's sake, you know?"

"Yeah, I know." said Stoker. "Listen.. They're cheering out there.."

"Good." smiled Cap. Then his face lost all expression and animation and
his eyes closed softly.

"Cap?" Roy asked. The heartbeat sounding on the monitor suddenly sped
up ominously and Hank's face turned dusky. "Doc, he's not breathin.."
he said after a fast check by feel and a careful listening.

"Bag him, Roy. Gage..get out a paralytic agent.  0.10 mg/kg of Vecuronium IVP. 
We're not delaying anymore for our secured endotrach." Brackett snapped. 
"He's probably just gotten tired.  So we're going to take over for him. That's it, Roy.
Get him real pink. He's not quite there yet. Johnny, when you're through injecting 
that med, tube him. Stoker, clean out that blood in his oropharynx first."

Kel handed Gage a laryngoscope and he ansed uncomfortably through the hole
as he shoved the drum end of a stethoscope into multiple places over Cap's
chest assessing his assisted breath sounds. "As I suspected, the left lung's gone 
quiet, boys. And he's deviating. Looks like I'll have to insert a full chest tube. 
Not just the needle decompression we were hoping for."

"What? Here? You can't get to him well enough through that hole!" Johnny 
reasoned as he taped off the endotracheal airway he had finished positioning.
Roy now used his ambu bag through it.

"No other choice, Johnny. We all know he'll just get worse without one.
I've got a thoracic tray right here. So scrub up, Gage. You've just been 
drafted as a nurse." Kel barked.

"These conditions are filthy, doc.." Roy said, pumping pure oxygen into
Cap's paralzyed form.

"No matter. Antibiotics are wonderful these days, Roy. I'll just double his
dose. In fact, I'll begin some right now. Is he allergic to any?"

"To sulfas, and penicillins.. and I think some of the mycins.." Stoker said quickly.

"Any others?" Brackett grinned.

"No..." said Roy and Johnny at the same time, nervously.

"Relax, guys. A chest tube's no big deal. Think of it as a very large catheter.
Cause that's what it is. I'm not completely cracking his chest and you guys
are already handling his breathing problem. He's covered..." the doc smiled.
"Start him on a 300 milli ESN, microdrip I.V., wide open. Are you set yet, Gage?"

"Yeah,.." said Johnny, holding up a pair of sterile gloved hands.

"So am I. Let's get started shall we? Stoker, I hope you have a strong stomach."

"I've seen nothing yet that's gotten in the way of working." said Mike.

"Good, cause this rod and blade's over a foot long. Hold that light just 
as you are. I'm skipping the anesthetic cause he doesn't need it." said
Brackett, draping sterile sheets over Cap's hastily betadine cleaned 
wound that was still pressed up against the hole in the escalator wall. 
"Cutting now.."  and Kel made his incision to expose rib cartilage.
"Johnny, hand me some gauze. Lots of it. Roy, give him some epinephrine.
1 mg 1/10,000. After this is in, he'll drain better if he's been dried out."

"Got it, doc." said DeSoto. "That and the piggyback antibiotic."

"Ok, Stoker, I'm punching through his chest wall in a few seconds. 
Hold him tight so he doesn't move. I have to push pretty hard."
and Dr. Brackett unpackaged the chest blade and rod to ready 
it for use. "Johnny, get his tube and my 5.0 suture set out. I'll reach 
for them in a few seconds. We'll worry about the vacuum jar later. 
Getting that lung reinflated's more important than being tidy."

Johnny got out of Brackett's light as the ER doc made his sharp 
carving stab to gain entrance into Cap's chest cavity. Holding the 
site open with a small spreader, Brackett flicked his fingers for 
Johnny's chest tube. He got it. Kel threaded it in six inches until he 
was rewarded with escaping air and a flood of blood down the inch 
thick tube, which Johnny had end sealed off with an OB clamp. 

"That's right, Johnny. He's gotta lose all that pulmonary blood slowly. 
Take a BP. It can't be allowed to fall too low as I let this hemorrhaging 
out to reinflate that lung or he'll develop arrythmias. It's ok to break your 
sterile field now." Kel said, stitching the other end of the chest tube 
securely into place. "I'm finished."

Stoker took over for Roy to continue breathing for Cap using the bag 
valve attached to his airway. DeSoto kept track of what Hank's left lung 
was doing while Brackett made tube adjustments and continued draining 
Cap's chest clear of artifact fluid and air.

"Doc, he's eighty four over fifty." said Johnny.

"Fair enough. If it drops below eighty, give him another dose of epinephrine.
Mike, he may start gasping for you at any time. The vecuronium will soon be
wearing off. Let him make attempts on his own and help him when he needs it. 
I just gave him Versed so he won't remember from moment to moment that 
he's intubated. Don't be frightened of it. He won't know he's feeling uncomfortable 
from that airway at all. That tube has to stay in as insurance against any further 
collapse in the injured lung."

"Ok, doc. There's the first one already.." he said as Cap's chest began to
rock up under his hand. 

Roy looked up from his stethoscope check. "Dr. Brackett. I've got
breath sounds on both sides now. And the bubbling in his trachea's gone."

"Figured it was just saliva.. Sealing this off right now, nothing more's evacuating
for the moment." said the doctor. "Good going. There wasn't enough blood telling 
me that the bullet had gotten down as far as his left lung. Ok. Johnny. Go ahead and 
completely close off the patch over his gunshot  wound. We don't need to have 
the one side open on that anymore. A complete close off's better until he gets 
into exploratory surgery to handle a repair job."

Under Stoker's hands, Cap began to moan unawares, as if he was talking.

"Look at that, he's giving orders already." Gage quipped, taking another
fast blood pressure.

The others smiled and Brackett wasn't the only one who laughed.

"Ninety eight over seventy two." reported Johnny.

"Right on schedule." said Brackett. "He'll be on a bird for another
day until that chest finishes clotting up. Take turns bagging him until
we get to a resuscitator. The easier, the better. He's profusing well 
enough for real shallow assists. He doesn't need them any deeper."

Right then, stair plate ninety clattered through as a last cut was made
with a torch. Marco Lopez's head stuck through the rectangular gap.
"How's it going guys? Ready to get outta there?" he beamed. Then his
face fell into a look of worry when he spied Cap being actively ventilated.

"He's stable. That's just for a fresh chest tube." Roy reassured him. 
"He's waking up bit by bit in stages. So don't fret. See?" and he
pointed to the EKG monitor that was visible from Marco's angle.
It bleeped evenly in the eighties in unadulterated sinus rhythm.

"I'll tell the others. The lieutenant in here says that it'll take us about
twenty minutes to burn through enough stairs to get an opening large
enough for a scoop stretcher for Cap." said Marco.

"Got any water?" Gage said, licking his lips.

"Yeah, hang on a minute. These casino folks sure are quick. Anything we
need,.. and its suddenly right there...." said Lopez's head as he withdrew to
collect a large thermos with water in it.

"What's the tally so far?" asked Roy, taking his turn on the water container.

"Six alive. Not including him." said Marco, pointing to Leo. "The dog located
them pretty quick. Most are still being dug out. The minor injuries are being
treated in the casino in triage before they ship out. Vince says hi."

Captain Stanley made a noise immediately after that comment.

"I thought you said he wasn't awake." Marco frowned.

"He isn't. Not mentally at any rate. He's a little looped on meds right 
now because of this." said Stoker, tapping the bag that was giving Cap 
another slow breath under his hand.

"Oh..." said Marco in faint disgust. "Glad I'm not him. I'll be back. 
They've just gassed up the next torch and I gotta move out of the way.
See ya fellas later.."

"Later. Thanks for the water." Johnny said with a grin. "Doc, want some?"
the dirty paramedic asked hefting up the jug that finally came to him.

"I'm fine. I had too much coffee as usual before I came out here."
he grumbled, turning on a paper EKG strip so he could get an updated 
reading on Captain Stanley for his patient chart. "If I think about it too
much, I'll probably float away. Enjoy that amongst yourselves. Thanks."
he said quickly.

Gage shrugged and returned to getting an uncalled for set of vitals on
the dozing Leo.

----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Chet Kelly was turned instantly mute by the sight of the sophisticated, 
completely complicated surveillance room. Monitors covered every 
free wall, counter and lap space surrounding the five technicians 
in the room. 

But Mr. Blaze strode forward unhesitatingly and touched a tech on
the shoulder. "Show me." he said, indicating the largest monitor nearest
him and Chet.

"Happened at 1108. Looks like a definite 10-95, boss. That fireman took
it into the chest. See?" and a replay of Cap's shirt puckering up against
his skin and the sudden bloom of red showed over and over again before
the camera angle zoomed out to show the shooter himself. Lance.
Eerily, the crook's figure mouthed the only audio anyone had captured.
The frantic channel nine trick that Mike Stoker had dreamed up.

Mr. Blaze held Chet's questions pending until he had listened to the entire
segment of babbling three times. While he was listening to the last replay,
Chet's radio went off.

Kelly desperately turned down his volume but none of the casino techs 
seemed to be bothered by the addition of another radio voice. In fact, 
Mr. Blaze asked Chet to turn his up. It was Marco.

##We're through, Battalion. And all they need is water.##

Mr. Blaze nodded to a security supervisor in the room. "See to that,
would you?" 

The male supe shrugged and took a thermos from the refrigerator
right next to the extensive camera console from a recess that Chet hadn't
even seen and left quietly through the door to deliver it.

##Cap's alive. He's only not breathing because they had to knock him
out for a chest tube insertion.## said Marco. ##All in all, the rest of em are 
fine. We only need the six personnel here to get em out, sir.##

##Ok, HT 51. I'll turn back the second team on your word of assurance.
Kelly, is there's still no news of Hank's shooter?## asked Battalion.

"Uh,,,, they're on to something, chief. But it's a little too soon for
details. Please stand by on that. My end's a little busy, sir."

##10-4, Kelly. We'll be standing by. Tell the casino folks that a full
police response has been deployed, and a swat team.##

Chet Kelly looked up and realized that some of the monitors were
already showing the SWAT unit's men and vehicles in live feeds.
"I...see them, sir. Uh,..they know that already."

##Good going. Keep in touch, Kelly. Now, be sure to give me an update
as soon as you gain full access to your trapped men and start getting
them out of there. I want to coordinate the team coming in with the
additional scoop stretcher you need with the ambulance crews working
out here. Your victims will be loaded up first. Got that?##

"As clear as pictures, chief.." Chet quipped. Mr. Blaze smiled at that.
"Fireman Kelly, over and out."

It was a minute later before Chet summoned up enough courage to
ask his next question of the black sunglass shaded head of 
surveillance. "What is it that you're looking for, Mr. Blaze? Didn't you
hear? My coworkers are all safe now and are just about as good as free."

"I heard, Mr. Kelly. But my first priority is to this casino. Doubtless you
are wondering why I dragged you into the surveillance room. Well, this
is why. I suspect the men who shot your captain are going to try to
harm this establishment in an attempted robbery. We've just had two
false fire alarms due to excessive dust blowing around the ventilation
shafts over the restaurant. Looks like our crooks are on the move."

"Well, where do I fit in?" Chet asked with exasperation.

"These same men may try to use those weapons of theirs on my guests
and start actively shooting at random again. When the time comes, no 
doubt we'll be requiring more than just your two paramedics to care 
for all of them. If that happens, I want nothing but the best people available
immediately, for my patrons ....and employees. You are now our
fire department radio go between. Don't mess it up, for their sakes.
Responsibility for their lives, is now falling on your head."

---------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Photo:  Cap hurting, lying on his back being treated by Roy.

Photo: A chest gun shot wound close up.

Photo:  Dr. Brackett wearing scrubs.

Photo: A chest tube insertion procedure.

Photo:  A casino surveillance room.

Photo: Close up of a security team over monitors.

Photo: Chet Kelly looking very very put upon.

******************************************************************************
From: "Cassidy Meyers" <killashandraRey@hotmail.com>
           "Patti Keiper" <pattik1@hotmail.com> 
Date: Sat Apr 30, 2005  1:39 am 
Subject: That Personal Touch.. 


Peri the security guard stood by Marco Lopez as the last stair skirt 
was burned away and thrust aside by eager firefighter hands. Leo's scoop 
stretcher was the first of Station 51's injured to be evacuated into the casino 
vault's access tunnel leading into the heart of Softcount. 

"He looks pretty good." said Peri to Lopez.

"Yeah, he's not the worst of em. My captain is. Some criminal out in the 
mall shot him, thinking there was a police watch dog after him." said Marco,
watching the first set of four firemen take up shoulder and feet carrying
positions to walk Leo out.

"So you know about that..." sighed Peri. "Mr. Blaze was hoping to stop
those perpetrators without you fellows having to worry further about it."

"What's that supposed to mean?"

"The last radio message we received had a point going into the red  
in a ventilation shaft above the restaurant coat check station." she
replied. "Only there's no fire. The temperature gradient read
as nominal. It's just dust blowing up. Because somebody inside was
moving it around. Those unknowns are trying to get into the casino Mr. 
Lopez. Right now." she answered truthfully. "And the place where they
are is by the only way we have to get your people out to the mall."

"So what's going to happen? My captain can't wait." Marco said.

Peri the guard stepped back out of the rescue party's way in the semi 
darkened, emergency lit tunnel and radioed out. "Security to Surveillance.
They're extricating those wounded men now through the vault. Two stretchers."

##Surveillance copies. Continue the rescue operation. Know that PD swat is 
maneuvering into a surround. You have close coverage.##

Peri sighed, "That's a relief."

"What is?" said Marco, aiming his flashlight down the dusty hallway for
signs of Roy and Johnny coming through with Cap's scoop and I.V.s.

"We're not alone anymore. The cops are moving in to intercept." she
replied.

"Doesn't that put us into a whole lotta danger?" Marco fidgetted.

"Not really. Not if we pretend that everything's normal. Those robbers
won't pay any attention to us if we don't pay any to them. It's on some
form of money that they're going to focus on. Not on any people. So far, 
their MO's aren't suggesting any active homicidal tendencies. We've 
photos and names on the two involved so far with your captain's shooting."
Peri replied.

"That was fast."

"It always is. We can get right down to any moving traffic violations off a
photo sometimes."

But Marco wasn't listening. "Here Cap comes. Grab his I.V. lines. They're
going to be busy bagging him. This is Johnny and Roy at his head. 
Stoker and somebody at his feet."

"I got em.." said Peri, accepting them from Roy DeSoto. "Turn ninety to
the left once you see the money sorting table." she told them all as they 
came past her.

Captain Stanley was fully unconscious once more and lying quietly in the
scoop stretcher, being breath supported. The blood filled, sealed off chest 
tube lay carefully along his side, still protectively wrapped in the stained 
blue surgical sheets that Dr. Brackett had used beneath the spaghetti pile 
of his deattached EKG wiring. Johnny Gage had a set of fingers clamped 
on Cap's brachial pulse as he walked.

"Do you need your doctor to meet us at the main doors?" Peri asked, tapping
her ear bud and coil resting behind her neck.

Gage shook his head. "Thanks for guiding us. Your answer's no. 
He's been treated as much as he can be at the mall. Now there's just 
getting him outta here. How far now?"

"Forty yards, through secured hallway, then another ninety to the right 
down the middle of the gaming floor. You'll see the sunlight by the exit
at the main doors." Peri answered, making sure the I.V. lines were free and 
still flowing as they hurried through the maze deep inside the casino.
"Expect a little excitement on the way."

"Ooo, I take that to mean that we all should take cover getting out 
of the way when the police make their final move?" Roy guessed.

"Yeah." said Peri. "In between the slot machine rows is best, against a wall."

The two paramedics nodded as they saw another guard swipe open the 
final door out of the secured area of the vault hallway. The noise of normal
casino electronic bells and slot machine music met their ears.

Marco's hands tensed on the foot handle of Cap's stretcher. ::Now what? I
feel like a goldfish in a shooting barrel.:: He spoke into his walkie talkie.
"HT 51 to Battalion One. We're out and headed for the mall. We'll need another
oxygen tank in less than five minutes." he reported tapping the regulator dial
on Cap's cylinder.

##One will be waiting for you when you emerge.## replied the chief.

"Look sharp.." said Peri, as they were joined by more unarmed security guards
who cleared out some completely obvious, lounging slot players and pushed in chairs 
that were in their way. "Hug the wall, sirs." she told Johnny and Roy. "We have to
go around the early drop power shift over there."

Station 51's three saw another cluster of security guards working around a
very large DBA money cart exactly like those in the vault room with another team 
of navy tunic-ed machine money pullers. The area was courdoned off with yellow
plastic chains which outlined the area cameras were watching even as they kept
out the milling casino guests as full money boxes were replaced with empty ones
and shelved onto the money cart. The guests inside the chained areas were asked
to abandon their coats and coin buckets while things progressed.

The stretcher line rescue party made their way slowly by the drop detail. Marco was
more than just nervous and it began to rub off on Johnny, Roy and Stoker, who
crouched even lower over Cap without even knowing it.
 

Suddenly, Peri and the other security guards shouted a warning. 
"On the floor! Everybody, get under cover!" she said, gripping the sound 
piece in her ear, urgently.

The gang needed no encouragement. They dropped Cap and Leo's stretchers
onto the patterned carpetting and pushed them under the protective bulk 
of a row of slot machines underneath gaming chairs before they themselves
laid onto their stomachs next to them.

Mr. Blaze snapped out an order on the guard channel. ##10-91!  Lock it up!
And disappear!##

The power shift officers literally threw any loose full metal money boxes being
pulled from open slot machines onto the cart and then they slammed the metal 
doors of the cart shut. One guard locked a thick padlock on it before crawling 
away behind a row of machines. 

The hardcount team fled in all directions, leaving the cart alone.

Gage and Roy watched as Peri and the other security guards peeled out of
their conspicuous white and black uniform shirts down to their T shirts. They
immediately grabbed some guest sweaters and jackets still draped over
the voluntarily vacated chairs in the drop area and slowly put them on where 
they crouched, watching the open areas of the casino intently. In seconds, 
not a single security guard uniform was in sight. They now blended in wonderfully, 
looking like guests. Now, they were much safer than they had been before.

"What's going on?" Marco whispered at Peri.

"The robbers are headed this way. The cameras have spotted them. Do
nothing! It's not any of our jobs to confront them!" Peri said. "They're going 
for the drop cart!"

Roy and Johnny wormed their way deeper under the machines, still
keeping the ambu bag working where they were hidden, for Hank.

"We're not getting paid enough for this.." Gage hissed in frustration,
getting himself out of line of sight.

"You took the words right out of my mouth.." Peri said, eyeing the
ceiling and listening to something over her radio intently.

"D*mn it, Cap, just keep a heartbeat through all this. 
We've no headroom for any CPR.." Stoker grumbled.

"I think he heard ya.." Johnny joked. " His pulse just leaped out
a little stronger..." he whispered. "He's sure not in danger here."

"Good." hissed Stoker, his face warring between a smile and 
a scowl.

A trio of three in black lappelled jackets and gray pants arrowed
by the firemen's location, giving Peri and the other concealed
security guards a thumbs up before they just as silently moved
off for the direction of the money cart. Handcuffs winked at their
leather belts next to metallic badges.

"Who were they?" asked Marco.

"S.L.'s. Our supervisors." Peri grinned. "Looks like they're taking
action. Stay close and stay very still." she said, her face growing 
serious as she studied the direction in which they had gone.

Suddenly there was a crash and the sound of guests startling
as new suspicious figures in black, erupted out of the shadows 
in the dim casino lighting, for the money cart. The robbers!

Marco saw Peri nod at a command given to her on her radio 
and she leaped up to heave a shoulder against the heavy silver
metal drop cart. It tipped over with a thud and pinned a man in a 
black ski mask by the legs and his gun with a silencer was knocked
out of his gloved hands as he went down. 

Lance screeched in pain and grabbed the edge of the massive 
cart but he was no longer a threat.

Gage shouted out a warning. "Look out!" as another robber rushed
to attack Peri. The guest sweatered security guard went down in a 
heaping tangle of legs and collapsed into stillness as the infuriated
Mugsy started kicking her. "You stupid girl! Things were going so well!
We had it m---!"

That was as far as the mastermind got. A team of swat men buried him
to the floor and away from the security guard and he was quickly 
cuff immobilized in front of a furiously barking Luke on the end of Vince 
Howard's leash.

------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
Every television screen in the Surveillance room except for the ones
watching the vault were tuned into every microscopic detail of the 
assault taking place on the casino.

Chet practically dug his fingernails into the back of Mr. Blaze's surveillance
chair when he saw the fighting so near his coworkers and Cap.
He gave another gasp when he saw the female security guard go down.

"Relax, Mr. Kelly, things are under control.." said Mr. Blaze.

"But, but...but she's hurt! And Johnny and Roy can't get to her from where 
they are." Kelly insisted.

"She's not. Look." and Chet was shown a close up of Peri's face, where
she lay quietly waiting for the SWAT team to secure the area. She had
a predator's grin on her face. "The ground's the best place to be in
an all out kicking fight. My guards know that." he replied. "She's just
not drawing attention to herself at the moment."

Chet's mouth popped open and a smile flicked there momentarily 
before it was swept away once more into intense worry for his 
stationmates. He lifted his HT to his mouth. "Gage, that guard's fine.
Hold fast."

---------------------------------------------------------------------

Out on the casino floor, Johnny immediately halted his move to cross
the floor distance over to Peri on his belly. "What? Ok..." he said
vocally, throwing his hands up into the air. Soon, his sharp eyes spotted
the normal breathing on her and he shifted his attention once more onto
Cap and his I.V.s. 

Roy had figured it out. "Clever girl. She's just background now."

He watched as another black jacketted S.L. crawled forward to 
handcuff Lance, too, with a knee to the chest. She didn't bother to move 
the cart trapping his knees firmly. But she did look up at the firemen. 
"Left leg's broken.." she gestured. But then she gave them a stay 
gesture and froze, listening to her ear radio suddenly as a surveillance
technician updated her on a new change in her ongoing situation.

------------------------------------------------------------------------

Chet watched as the remaining four robbers abandoned their
buddies to make an escape through a nearby Safeco store on
surveillance camera. A team of swat gave hot pursuit soon after.

Sighing, Chet sank down onto an empty chair. "Does this happen
every day of the week?"

"Often enough to keep us on our toes." smiled Mr. Blaze knowingly
vague. "Your work's done here, Mr. Kelly. How about you go out
and join your friends? Just follow this guard and he'll show you
a way fast enough so you can catch up to them."

Chet didn't have to be encouraged in the slightless to leave.

----------------------------------------------------------------------------

Out on the casino floor, Roy had already crouched over Lance
with a new team of firefighters to start the robber's rescue from
underneath the hundreds of pounds money cart. Gage was too
mad at him to participate so instead, he contented himself with giving
Stoker unnecessary orders on Cap's continued care while they
loaded him up into a Mayfair.

Marco Lopez helped Peri off of the floor. "You ok?"

"Never better, Mr. Lopez. Now that, was invigorating.. Nothing like
a little action on day shift."

Lopez laughed as he hurried away to go help DeSoto get 
the splint he needed for the crook's leg. "Thanks for everything."

"Come back again. But just for fun next time. And not just on
one of our medical calls. I wish you luck with all those injured people
out there, Mr. Lopez." Peri waved, "All my prayers."
she said returning the guest sweater back to the chair it had
come from. She winked before turning to make sure the money 
cart was still secure and locked. It was quickly muscle hauled 
back onto its steel running wheels and soon the push team rapidly 
returned to mind it.

The last the firefighters saw of her was her contacting Mr. Blaze
to say that the drop cart was on the way to the vault, fully intact.

===========================================================
It was a few days later, and Kel Brackett was sitting in his office,
surrounded by charged up, worked up, worried paramedics at
the recertification meeting.

"Now gentlemen, you're all making me out as the Spanish
Inquisition! A few changes in departmental policies never hurt anybody."
declared the brown haired doctor.

A sharp clearing of the throat timed perfectly to fall clearly into a quiet
moment, from Dixie McCall, immediately made Kel blush right down to his
toes. 

"Well, all right. It bugs everybody a bit for the first few days or even weeks,
until everybody finds themselves used to it. Now these are some, for instance."
he said, handing out editted versions of the thick packet that once was
the Los Angeles County Fire Department paramedic procedure manual. 
"Outlined in here is everything that you fellas seem to do automatically even 
when one of us doctors is on the phone line with you. Getting the right I.V.s set up, 
or the correct airway for the situation presenting itself. Even down to working a 
cardiac arrest case, step by step. It's high time for us doctors to take a step back
and let you paramedics leap a few forward. You're all highly trained professionals 
at the absolute height of your best game. Gee, I thought I'd never hear myself
say this but,..now it's time to let you guys fly solo.  We're giving you your heads
to treat every medical or trauma situation to the best of your training without a constant
radio presence in the hope of greatly shortening up the time span it takes for you 
to deliver a victim to us personally. And that, gentlemen, takes a giant leap of faith.. 
Shall we begin outlining the new changes? Say, five minutes from now."  Dr. Brackett 
said.

Dixie McCall began smiling secretly to herself where she said cross legged in
a chair as the paramedics around her began to squirm. "Oh, come on, fellas. I
promise this'll be painless. I've gone through it.." she admitted.

"Yeah, and how many deaths did you die breaking old habits for new?"


"Not even once, Johnny Gage." she chided, nailing him with her eyes.
"I had fun being your victim hanging way up on that building."

Roy chuckled. "Yeah, that's after we covered your face with the tarp
so that you couldn't look down."

"That scoop stretcher's tiny!" Dixie said in mortified indignation.

"And so are you..." said Johnny. "It was a piece of cake. We had ya
down in a few minutes. Not even enough time for you to wet your shorts."

"I wasn't scared..." Dixie insisted. "And I didn't pee myself."

"No, but it woulda made your supposed unconscious state seem more real
to us."

"Don't be such a detailer.. Gross." Dixie laughed uproariously.

"All our recertification training's supposed to be realistic, right?"
Johnny said seriously.

"Not that realistic." she said making a face. "Even the moulage wounds
are rubber."

"But the fake blood's still red. I like that part.." said Gage, getting into it.

"It feels gross when you're soaked in it." admitted Dixie.

"Really?" Roy asked. "I thought Brice says it dries on pretty good."

"It doesn't. It ruins your clothes, too. I had to throw mine away."

"You mean, even that bathing suit you wore underneath after I cut your
clothes off? Man, that one was classy.." Johnny said, leaning close. 


"Johnny! I heard that.." said Brackett, ever protective of his nurse.

"Sorry.. Never let it be said that Dixie's shapely chassis is sub par."
toasted Gage with his styrofoam cup of steaming coffee.

The room erupted in cheers and cat whistles much to Dixie's chagrin.
She hid briefly behind a hand to hide her embarrassed reaction.

Then she got a look of pure mischief in her eyes and leaned in
closer to both Roy and Johnny. "How'd ya like the fake seizure I 
threw in when you least expected it?"

It was Johnny's turn to blush unexpectedly. Roy just sat back in
his chair and started laughing. "Ha! I know better than to squat over
a patient's arm and hand. Ya goosed him good, Dixie. He must've 
jumped up a mile high.."

"I did not.." Gage hissed through tight teeth. 

"You did, too. I was watching the whole time.." said Brackett from
across the room. "Remember I was your protocol tester yesterday.
Nice move, Dix. Every paramedic should learn the lesson Roy knows
already."

"I aim to please." Dixie said bowing her head with a grace that spoke
of gentle self congratulation. "Somebody's gotta protect these boys' assets."

That only made Gage blush redder. "Changing the subject. Cap says hi.
Roy and I visited him in his room just before the meeting began. Doc, nice
bit of surgery. Didya give him the bullet?"

"Of course." said Brackett with feigned insult. "He's gotta have something
to show the missus for his trouble. And it'll be a whole lotta fun for him
to show that to some new probie when it comes time to show off that medal
of honor of his during any fire training."

Roy smiled. "Do you know, he's the first one in our station to ever receive one?
I mean, the one Johnny and I got by mistake, doesn't count. It was rescinded
as soon as someone realized it. And he's proud of it, too. He thinks that
getting it'll chill McConnike for a while about remembering when Hank
burned his hat. He's hoping the effect will last long enough to get us through 
the summer without even a single surprise inspection."

"That'll be the day.." Johnny said, rolling his eyes. "Say, Dix.. Uh,..If I can
ask, what tripped up Brice earlier about all this freedom we're getting granted
working as paramedics?"

Dixie took a knowing sip from her coffee and made sure the room opposite 
Craig was preoccupied with the new manual before she answered. "There 
weren't enough rules. He choked working on his victim in the building scenario."

Gage bit his lip suppressing a chuckle. "But he's still working, Dixie. 
How'd ya get him over that kind of reaction good enough to pass?"

"I didn't goose him."

Roy spit out his mouthful of coffee all over the floor.

 

 FIN

Episode Twenty, Recertification

----------------------------------------------------------------

Photos: None.
 
            
                            End Credits --  Episode Twenty  (Third Season)
                                      
                                              §§   Recertification  §§

                :)     This episode is dedicated to those who died in the                  :)
                        real life Hyatt Hotel tragedy in 1995 and the heroes
                        who saved hundreds of them from the ruins of the collapsed
                        aerial sidewalk rumble. May they be remembered with pride..                                    
                        and love..
                :)                                                                                                              :)

 

 @@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@
 
  
The Story Unfolds...

Season Three, Episode Twenty One..
 
 §§   Devil Winds    §§
 
Debut Launch: May 1st, 2005. 

**************************************************
From: "rwein5" <rwein5@charter.net> 
Date: Thu May 5, 2005  8:18 pm 
Subject: It's a beginning . . 
  

The dry air settled over the brush and dry foliage of the mountain
range. Smog and haze were a natural part of the horizon most of the
year, but on this day it seemed thicker and stronger than ever. It
was also the time of year where the winds returned in strong, sweeping
passes between the mountains and the valleys. Despite the wind,
however, the dry, arid thickness remained determined to keep the
horizon embedded in its cloak of heaviness. There was no escape from
the inevitable happening. When the natural elements joined together
in song and dance over the parched land it seemed to always end in a
spark, and then the real terror began . . .
 

Hank shook his head again as he climbed down Big Red. Water continued
to drip from his hair and turnout coat leaving him in a very
determined mood to get dry. The clean up had been long and tedious
from the apartment fire, but he was thankful that the injuries were
minor. Johnny and Roy were finishing up at the hospital while the
engine crew worked on their own finish.

"Cap, I've got the logbook. Why don't you take what time you need,"
Mike said, breaking Hank's temporary reflection.

"Yea, good idea. Chet, Marco . . I get the shower first. I'm pullin'
rank sorry, fellas!"

Hank gave a small pause as he considered his statement but then again,
he rarely used his rank.

"Sure, Cap," "No problem!" responded Chet and Marco at the same
time. Despite their own discomfort, they deferred to their captain.
"I'll get some coffee going," added Chet.

Hank sloshed toward the locker room and stripped away the wet and
heavy clothing. He eased into the shower and let the hot water soak
in. The steam filled his nostrils and he took it in with his eyes
closed and his mind wandering. The dispatch he had received prior to
their latest run included the annual reminders of brushfire drills and
training. The heat of the water continued to soothe Hank's muscles.
He thought about the upcoming brushfire season and sighed. Despite
the calming effects of the shower, his anticipation and inner
sensibilities warned him of what was to come. Whispers of the beast
seemed to enter his thoughts and he realized that his sense of
foreboding was not the best way to end this shower.

He turned the water a little cooler and finished washing up. Burying
his head and face in the clean wooly towel seemed to refresh his tired
mind. He dried quickly and with years of experience in fast changes,
had completed his dressing routine.

"Shower's free!" Hank yelled as he walked by the day room.

He entered his office and found a new dispatch on his desk.
Obviously, Mike had put it there while he was cleaning up. Hank
started reading it and felt the tendrils of distress creep back. He
heard the squad roll back into the bay but he didn't hear Roy coming in.

"Cap? You okay?" he asked.

Hank appeared startled for a moment and then looked at his senior
paramedic. "Uh, yea . . it's just another dispatch. The winds have
already kicked up and they've spotted the first fire."

"Already?" Roy seemed surprised.

"Yea . . looks like it'll be a long season," Hank replied, not feeling
as refreshed as he did a few moments ago.
----------------------------------------------------------------------
Photos:  None.

**************************************************
From :  crash200225 <crash200225@yahoo.com> 
Sent :  Saturday, May 7, 2005 1:53 AM 
Subject :  [EmergencyTheaterLive] Adding Up

The harsh Santa Ana wind was beginning to pick up across the Mojave 
Desert area.  A Sig Alert had been issued for Highway 14, the main 
road between L.A. and the desert.  Big rigs, RVs,and buses were being 
warned to stay off the Freeway.  The wind was well known for blowing 
the large vehicles over. Passenger cars and pick up trucks had a hard 
time staying on the road, as the strong wind would make them swerve 
and shake.  Small dust devils were growing into a major dust storm.  
Long time residents knew the signs as the afternoon heat fueled the 
wind and prepared for the worst.  Most opted to stay indoors and 
heaven help those stranded outside.  The blowing sand would leave 
stinging marks on exposed areas of skin that lasted for days and eye 
injuries were a common complaint at the local ER's.

The wind picked up speed as it traveled from the desert, down the 
canyons and the Freeway towards the San Bernadino Mountains and, 
eventually, the City of Angels itself.  It had many names, but 
whatever it was called,  it meant serious trouble.  Many had begun to 
call it the Devil Winds.  It lived up to that name.  Gusts of 100 
miles per hour or more, where not unheard of.  A cigarette, 
carelessly thrown out of a car window, was all it took for the wind 
to whip an burning ember into a raging brushfire.

----------------------------------------------------------------

Cap was worried.  It had been a wet winter and spring that allowed 
alot of new plant growth in the canyons and hills.  The once lush 
plants were now just very dry tender waiting to go up in flames.  The 
brush had not been this overgrown since before he had joined the Fire 
Department.  To make matters worse, homeowners ignored the 
instructions to keep empty lots and areas surrounding their houses 
clear of the dry brush and tumbleweeds.  ::A long season indeed.::he 
thought. ::Better get started on the brush and wildfire drills::

------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Photos:  None.

**************************************************
From :  Cory Anda <andacory@hotmail.com> 
Sent :  Monday, May 9, 2005 2:48 PM 
Subject :  Divining Doom.. 
 

Cap helped himself to the pot of Jaimaican dark that
Chet had just finished brewing by taking it directly out
of the stocky firefighter's hands even in the act of pouring.
"Kelly,...hope you don't mind."

"Not at all, Cap. It'll behoove me to provide the caffeine
to the worst addict first around here. Isn't that right, Gage?"

"Yep. Eases the symptoms of withdrawal and in Cap's case, it'll
eliminate a severe case of the crankies.." he said whole heartedly,
with a frown as he ambled into the kitchen from the vehicle bay 
on Roy's heels.

"I am not cranky..." Hank insisted with a sharp tone. Then he
replayed mentally how his own sentence came out of his mouth.
"Well, maybe just a little. A hot shower only soothes so far. You
know how I hate fourplex fires. They take forever to knock down.
And there's always an interior wall collapse into the basement
to worry about."

"What I can't understand, Cap, is why you're still steaming. And I
don't mean from the shower." Johnny complained, setting down his 
as yet unread and unbundled newspaper. "Kelly's right. You HAVE 
been on edge today."

Roy gathered at Cap's side and leaned on the countertop, asking
with a silent holding of a mug thrust out, for some coffee from the 
coffee pot still tightly held in Cap's grip. "It's because of the memo
that arrived this morning. The first hot spot's official, Johnny."

"Oh now that explains everything. Sorry, Cap. I guess it's 
okay to have a snarling veneer then. I would be, too, if I had to 
organize brush responses at L.A. fire training academy when 
every other fire station in the state wants to do the same thing. 
There's no seniority between caps, Cap." and he grinned one
sided in supportive amusement.

"Don't remind me. I've had a bad feeling about the weather all day."
Hank sighed, pouring and draining his second cup of coffee from the
pot he was still holding.  He filled Roy's cup almost to over brimming.

Chet finally gave up getting one for himself when he was ignored, 
so he sat down on the couch to give Bonnie, the station Yorkie, a 
scrub behind her ribboned ears. "It's not so bad. L.A. says the Santa 
Ana wind scale's not even a condition three yet."

Hank wasn't comforted. "Yeah, well, it's not four in the afternoon yet
either, is it?" he commented, still with a sharp edge.

The other firemen didn't even flinch. They understood Cap's ire was
blowing off the steam created for being in his type of occupational office.

Bonnie barked, jumping down from the couch. She skittered over to Cap's
recliner, bounded up onto its black leather seat cushion, and immediately
sat up on her rear haunches in a wistful whining beg.

"Cap, listen to Bonnie and sit down some. She's being your second 
mother again..." Chet said  without looking up from the chess game 
he was playing with Marco. Neither fireman got up to go shower despite 
of being stinky, multiple shades of dirt color, and sweaty. 

Marco echoed the sentiment. "Yeah, go pet her to calm your nerves a bit."

"Marco, Chet,.. De-scum-ify and make your captain feel better that way, 
huh?" Hank snapped in an order as he sat down in the chair to humor
Bonnie.  He began a brisk belly rub to shut up her vocal piercing fusses
over his own stress levels. "I'll be a LOT better if I'm not smelling what I'll 
be up to my eyebrows in tommorrow morning.."

"No way, Cap." protested Lopez. "We're only gonna get all filthy again, 
so why waste the water? We're gonna need every drop we can get.." Marco 
said in challenge without looking up from the chessboard between Kelly and 
himself. He frowned when Chet took his white knight with a black rook.

Cap fell silent for the first time, unable to enforce his demand in the face of
that overwhelming truth of a thing so obvious.

Roy grinned, taking a sip from his coffee mug. "What makes you so sure that
we'll be on a brushfire assignment by then?"

"Because Mike Stoker isn't here.." Cap insisted loudly, rubbing his lips in worry.
"Just take a look around you, Roy. Do you see him in here with us anywhere?" 
He gestured with his question.

The gang looked up and glanced around the kitchen and rec room and saw that
it was true.

"Uh, oh.." trickled Chet. "He's poring over the releve' density charts again, isn't 
he?"

Gage's forehead furrowed. "What's a releve' chart? I've never heard of that.."

"I thought you went to first grade, Gage. Gee, knock me over with a feather, man.
Everybody knows what releve' studies are.." quipped Chet, seriously not 
serious at all, just to get Johnny's goat. Then he looked up and winked at Marco,
to let Lopez know that he was setting a prime baiting trap again.

Johnny fell right into the middle of it. "I know what releve' studies are.." said the dark
haired paramedic defensively. "Releve' studies are.. studies of apparent 
density, Chet."

"Of what kind?" Kelly oozed, needling. "Your last statement is one hundred percent
desperate digging on what I just said, and you know it. It didn't make any sense
at all. Just admit you don't know something for once, Johnny and I promise I'll 
drop it instantly." he said silky smooth, priming his teasing jab to the max.

Gage's face fell into a struggling expression mixed with the eternal half angry look
of a victim who's realized that they've just been outfoxed into admitting a weakness.
"It's a study of...stuff that needs measuring, Chet. So quit being irritating about it."

Kelly folded his fingers together in a scholarly look of consideration completely
devoid of any sting. "It's analyzing numbers of plant species and their distribution
population over a given area. A fire ranger throws out a one meter by one meter
PVC plastic pipe frame randomly onto a brushy slope without looking where
he's throwing it. Then he goes out and extends that square to ten meters by ten using
string and pikes and everything growing inside of it is sampled in great detail.
What species is growing there and how many. Their densities in relation to each other
can relate a whole lot as to what that slope'll do if it ever catches on fire. And when it
might go up under Santa Ana conditions."

"It does?" said Johnny, cheek full of cookie from the platter on the table in front
of him.

"Yep." said Cap, looking up, thoroughly forlorn. "Stoker's made a serious hobby of it.
Every year since he started on at the station."

"No kidding..." said Gage, finally becoming infected with Cap's flavor of intense 
worry. "Well, what else kinds of things does he learn from all that math ratio stuff?"

"See for yourself. I'm too depressed to even think about it..." sighed Cap, sinking a
damp chin into one of his palms.

Roy immediately got up and poured Cap his third cup of java in as many minutes.
"Here, Cap. Drink up. It'll lessen the sting of what Stoker's fathoming out for ya.."

"Appreciate that..." Cap said, looking up and accepting the pour eagerly.

"I think I'll go with ya...." Johnny said, all uncertain curiosity.

Chet was deprived of the cream of his crafted tease and that broke his concentration
on his chess game. Lopez took his queen with a nondiscreet pawn from the back of
the board and Marco said, "Checkmate in six moves. Sorry, Charlie." he said, rising from
his chair.  He walked over to kneel by Cap and Bonnie in the recliner to help Hank calm her
rising nerves over the new turn of imminent dry weather and the gang's even sharper 
mood changes. "Had to take the throat when it was wide open like that. Chet, don't try 
to do two things at once, especially if one of those things is playing chess. You'll lose 
every time."

"Thanks for the sage advice, Marco. You're all heart." he said, mildly miffed as he
realized the series of moves to the endgame Lopez had just foreseen. "I'll remember
that next time we're working a hose together. I'll just look the other way when
the ceiling comes down right on top of ya."

"Oh, yeah? Then I think I'll just overlook the next live wire that pops up under 
your boots when I'm your rear man for concentrating on my waterwork,
and we'll see what happens."

Roy looked up wide eyed mock shock. "Don't do that, Marco.That'll just suck us 
all into a full blown cardiac arrest case on him and we'll have to work hard for half 
an hour with CPR until we reach the hospital. Think of something else with which 
to avenge yourself. That plan doesn't work too well. There's too much coworker 
fallout." he teased.

"Oh. ...ok. I'll be devious in another direction then." said Lopez, pegging Kelly with a 
penetrating stare. The soot on his face only amplified the piercing white of his eyes
and he didn't even blink....Not once.

"W-what other direction?" Chet said, squinting his eyes as he reset the chessboard up
for a new game in vulnerable uncertainty.

"Wait and see...." said Marco mysteriously curling the end of his moustache with a 
fingertip.

Chet shuddered. "I hate it when he does that. Sends chills runnin up and down my spine. 
I think I created Frankenstein by being The Phantom around here, guys. Marco's 
learned from me."

"Then quit playin one up with ME when you're playing chess and you won't open 
yourself up to it." insisted Gage. "Thanks for the counter rib, Marco. You stopped 
him from messing around with my head again quite nicely."

"No problem. I know to stick by the one who usually has both the defib paddles 
in his hands..."

Cap snorted in mirth, still tickling Bonnie's belly until she was deep into squirming 
doggy heaven. Her rear foot began to dig the air in utter ectasy.

Roy chuckled, turning from his banter admiring lean in the doorway to finish 
his side trip to the office for Cap. "I'll go see what predictions Stoker's got 
for us.." he announced to everyone. Gage followed in his wake seconds later.

"You do that. And I DON'T wanna know. Keep it to yourself. A bad surprise is
sometimes much better than a clearly known future in my book." Hank said 
empathetically.

"Ok.. My lips'll be sealed. One hundred percent." shrugged DeSoto diffidently.

-----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Mike Stoker was out in the vehicle bay, with a rainbow array of spray cans, spread out
on the hood of the squad. He had closed the enormous glass cover on the route wall 
map in front of him and he was liberally applying layers of frothy bright color on 
specific areas of the mountains; all around their entire fire response district and 
service area.

Johnny's eyebrows went up when he saw Mike doing that without looking up from hastily
scribbled notes from what could only be a homemade releve' study packet. 
Stoker already knew their map's garage scale blind and that made what he was 
doing even more remarkable to Gage. "What's all that red mean?" he said, waving 
away the water soluable paint fog cloud fumes from his already sooty nose and mouth.

Mike didn't stop what he was doing. "That's ninety five percent probability on
complete uncontainment of any fire when the northeast santas hit anything
over twenty miles an hour."

Kelly was a paramedics' shadow without their knowing it and when he spoke
up, it made them both jump unexpectedly. "Hey, Johnny, look!" he said pointing.  
"That red paint's all over Bear Claw Canyon, pal. I guess the rest of us oughta 
start feeling real sorry for ya right about now."

"Very funny, Chet. Let me see that." And he stepped over to where Chet was squinting
through the wet glazing of the largest semi translucent crimson stain.

Johnny's ranch was right in the centermost heart of red spray paint. "Uh, Mike.. C-can
this uh, predic-- prediction stuff of yours ever be wrong? " he said, swallowing around
a suddenly dry mouth.. "Cause I got a whole head of my ranch horses running wild in the 
foothills around my place and they're not always the easiest ones to locate for weather 
sheltering."
 
"Only if we see some rain in the next two weeks." said Mike.

"Why don't I feel better hearing that?" Gage sighed, his voice quavering. 

Chet wasn't beyond rubbing in salt. "Because you know how h*llish the fall devil 
winds can get..."

"I think I'll go back into the kitchen and join in on Cap's monster 
sulking fit. Sounds like a real good idea right about now.." whispered Johnny.

--------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Photo:  The gang studying a tiny area on the garage wall map.

Photo:  Gage in a helmet with a sickening realization on his face.

Photo: A mob of ranch horses running through Californian scrubland.

Photo: A raging brush fire.

Photo: Cap looking very caged.

Photo: Bonnie, intently worried in a stare.

************************************************************************
From: "Roxy Dee" <laterrapincabesa@hotmail.com> 
Date: Thu May 12, 2005  7:51 pm 
Subject: Down the Devil's Throat~~ 

As if to taunt his words, the wind blowing outside began howling around
the station's garage and the air began to heat palpably, making everybody
rub their arms thoughtfully and look up at the ceiling and the bay around them.

"Just like last year." Lopez whispered.."The devil winds started at sunset
then, too."

"I hate being right about them coming early like this." said Stoker. 

"Doesn't mean that we'll get busy, fellas. Maybe a day or two
before we go at least, right Stoker? The brush's gotta dry out first." 
said Chet.

Mike Stoker picked his shoulders up. "I don't know. I know 
I don't like these figures I'm seeing here." he said, smacking
the notes he had gathered into a black spiral notepad."Not at all."

The tones went off.

"That was mighty wishful thinking, Chet. Too bad it didn't work..." smiled 
Roy as he and Johnny jogged to the squad for their overjackets and 
helmets.
 
##Station 51. Small aircraft out of control along the freeway. PD has positively
identified the plane as a cessna.  Aviation Tower North reports three on board
as of the last pilot contact at 1843 hours.  100 East Riviera Boulevard. Cross 
street Grant. 100 East Riviera Boulevard. Cross street Grant. Timeout : 1848.##

Cap literally ran out of the kitchen. "Thanks for trying with the coffee, Roy.
It was nice while it lasted."

"Anytime, Cap." waved Roy from the driver's seat of the squad.
  
"Let's get the show on the road." sighed Hank and he ran over to the radio 
mic by the wall map to acknowledge their response.  "10-4. Station 51, 
KMG 365."

Johnny hastily rolled up his side window as Roy took a left turn onto
the roadway after taking in a faceful of dust. "Man! Not hard to see why
that plane's going down. Pwaghh!" and he spat grime out of his mouth
into a rag he pulled from the wash kit on the floor. "We're gonna need 
googles for this one if the winds keep up this high. Notice how warm it's 
getting? It's hotter now than it was when the sun was up." he said with 
exasperation.

"Yeah.. Temp's sure rising. If the pilot didn't have a rich enough mix
and high enough rpm, it would explain why he's in trouble. I'm not gonna
even mention the crosswinds.." he shouted, hauling the wheel sharply to
the right when the rescue squad was soundly buffetted by a wind gust.
"Seems the beginning of the devils' season always brings down one or
two who weren't ready for it on its opening night."

"Does Cap count as one of them?" Gage wondered.

"Don't hold your breath. You saw how he rocketted out of the kitchen.
I made sure he had enough coffee to get him outta the blues long enough
so he'd be ready for the first santa anas call. Glad it's not a fire."

"Yeah, but people are sure gonna get hurt from this." Johnny frowned
ruefully.

"They always get hurt, Johnny. And they don't usually need the wind to do it."

"I know. It's just, ...this year feels different somehow. I can't quite put my finger
on it." said Johnny over the wail of the sirens.

"That's just Stoker's voodoo working on ya. Don't let it get your goat. In all my
thirty five years of living, I've never seen any number figure stand the test of time.
And that includes brush burn factors like his."

"You really mean that?" 

"Yeah, I do." Roy insisted, slightly worried about the eagering fishing 
for reassurance that he had heard in his partner's last question. He 
almost stopped looking at the road.

A few minutes later, they were there.

"Oh, my word..." blurted out Cap as the squad and engine rolled ahead.
The plane was down. Sort of. It was upside down and seemingly 
completely stationary in the darkness, about forty feet above the road.

Chet squinted and pushed his helmet up a little higher onto his head.
"Hey, Cap. I think that plane's hung itself up on a high power wire."

"Looks like it." said Hank. He picked up the radio mic. "Engine 51, L.A.
We're visual contact with the distressed plane. It has crashed and is 
hanging on the high tension power wires over the roadway. Respond Light 
Truck Seventeen and a full ladder assignment along with Foam Truck 127.
Have the utilities cut power along the wire span between,..." he aimed
a powerful side spot onto a plaque at the base of each of the tower poles
flanking around the swaying plane..."..substations 117A and 118B.."

##10-4, Engine 51. Will notify when the power has been cut.##

Johnny and Roy got out of the truck. For a moment, Gage thought that Roy
had forgotten to turn off the sirens on the squad but then he realized it
was the screaming winds causing all the noise roaring by his ears. 
He flipped up the collar on his turnout to block it out. "Cap?!"

Hank turned from his scrutiny of the situation from where he stood on
the seat cushion of the engine while hanging onto its roof. He immediately
issued their orders. "Full rappelling gear! But wait on climbing any 
ladder up a pole until the electric company shuts off all that juice!"

"You got it.." said Roy, turning on his spotlight, too until it aimed up
at the plane's white and yellow roof. He could see no limbs or clothes
or any sign of the plane's passengers or pilot through the windows.

Hank turned the spot to focus on where the plane was entangled.
"It's caught by the landing gear! We gotta move fast. If it twists in
the wind too much it'll..."

Just then there came a sharp rending sound of tearing steel
cabling and stressed bolts giving way. 

The firemen standing by the Ward ducked in alarm as the plane 
fell from where it was and flipped over in the wind, landing on its 
belly onto the roadway the police had cleared.

Johnny began to run forward but Cap stopped him. "Hold it! Hold it!
Don't go barging in there without a fanning water cover! There's bound 
to be aviation fuel all over the place. And that fused nose prop's still hot 
enough to catch it with a spark in this wind! Stoker, Lopez, get out two inch 
and a halves on the double!"

It was only a minute later when all was set. Cap got on the loud speaker.
"To the pilot and passengers. This is the fire department. Stay inside the 
plane and keep the doors shut. We're coming in to get you.
If you heard me and can respond, wave out a window!"

There came no movement at all. And it was impossible to hear any
shouting over the wind.

Roy and Johnny worked even faster to lay out their medical gear
and plane skin cracking equipment. And Cap helped, even as he
continued to update L.A. on what just happened.

"Cap!! We got trouble!" shouted Marco suddenly. "It's the wind!
It's flipping the plane!"

"The wind is doing what?!" hollered Cap, running around the front
of the engine.

The plane once again began to move, pushed by a powerful, almost
angry, night santa ana wind gust.

"Watch it close!! Marco, Kelly!" hollered Cap. "Follow! Follow it !! Keep the engine
and fuselage under your hose wash!! If there's even so much as a spark under 
there, this whole roadway'll go up!  Aw, gahhhhH! Roy, Johnny. Help me tie this
thing off before it lifts up on us!" 
Chet and Marco smothered the places where the plane was dragging along 
the pavement with hastily coordinated gushes of water. They barely pushed 
away the spreading fuel puddle that the wind was blowing a few feet ahead of it.

Hurrying, Cap, Johnny and Roy flung two sets of lassoed ropes over the tail 
section in a V. Each paramedic tied a rope to a telephone pole until the 
plane finally was jerked to a shuddering halt. Cap followed up by knotting 
a double strength rope over an intact wing.  Quickly, under a protective
water spray, he secured it to the engine's bumper. "Mike, back her on up! I 
want all of these anchor lines tight enough to keep the plane perfectly still 
until Foam 127 gets here!"

Grunting, working hard, Gage, DeSoto, Stanley and Stoker, finally managed it.

Like a calf pinned between a pair of header and footer rodeo horsemen, the 
fallen cessna locked into immobility between the two power poles and the 
idling engine.

Then Cap gasped, leaning on his knees. "Gage, DeSoto. Get our reel line
on it, too!  I want this asphalt washed down as good as you can get it! Under
no circumstances are you to go near the plane until she's buried to the roof
in foam. Is that understood?!"

The two paramedics nodded.

The wind suddenly rose so strong, that Chet and Marco had to aim the hose 
while lying on the ground in the darkness.

Cap returned to the loud speaker and began hailing the injured people
a second time, warning them to stay inside the plane's cabin.

It seemed an eternity until Truck 127 got there.
  
--------------------------------------------------------------------------------
 
Photo:   Marco, Cap and Chet looking up at something near the engine.

Photo:   A cessna hanging from a power wire, at dusk.

Photo:   A close up of a cessna hanging from a power line by its landing
              gear.

Photo:   Chet, Johnny and Stoker duck near the engine.

Photo:    Squad 51 near a plane down on the ground.

Photo:   Cap pulling on a taut rope, grimacing.

Photo:   Chet and Marco blowing over at night with a fanning hose.

**************************************************************************
From :  Cory Anda <andacory@hotmail.com> 
Sent :  Sunday, May 15, 2005 10:26 PM 
Subject :  The Broken End


Hank got on the loud speaker the moment 127's sirens were flipped
off. "Truck 127. We've got people still in the plane and leaking fuel
is moving downwind towards traffic! Lay your foam from the southwest
ASAP. The plane's already been heavily secured with ropes." he
shouted over the howl of the dusty wind.

Angrily, he reached into the Ward and put on his brush goggles
so that he could see everything without his eyes stinging from the 
blowing grit flying through the air. He whistled, until the rest of his 
men did the same thing.

Soon, the cloth tunnel from two foam units were liberally coating the
dark roadway and pillowing a blanket of soupy white foam 
in a thick layer around the airplane.

Captain Stanley waved Johnny and Roy ahead with their gear.
"Gage! DeSoto! Watch yourselves in there! We'll have three stokes
ready before you radio out to Rampart. Stay on your HTs continuously!"

"Right, Cap.." said Gage.

The plane's fall accomplished what the tools would've done. The pilot's
door had been forced ajar from the force of impact with the ground. Johnny
waded into the chest high fire suppressant foam and pulled it open. He
scooped the flowing foam away from the plane's cabin to see the face 
of a man lying slumped over the pilot's controls. He quickly 
peeled off a glove to feel for a carotid without moving him. Roy began to work
on crowbar popping the passengers' wing door inside the river of foam.

He began to be grateful for the googles when the wind began to pile up
the stuff up higher than his head. Roy jammed his back into the door space
between the body of the plane and the door itself 
to keep it out as he shouted to his partner. "How is he? I got two female
victims. One in her forties, the other a teenager. Both appear to be 
unconscious.."

Johnny shoved his goggles up onto his forehead as he pulled out his
penlight to examine the pilot's eyes. "He's a code F. Pupils are blown
both sides with no pulses discernable at all." he said pulling off his stethoscope.
A further check with his hands found a grossly fractured spine through his
shirt just above the man's chest level even though he couldn't see the white
splintering of bone. "An open fracture of his back is above T3. He's gone."

"Both of the passengers are still alive. Come in through my way, Johnny.
The door on the other side's been crushed like a tin can. I'm afraid we
don't have the time to take to cut through it. The mother's in Cheynes Stokes
pattern with heavy cyanosis and the girl's in deep shock. The daughter's 
got a bad pelvis injury. Her left leg's grossly turned." Roy reported as
he crouched over the older woman to aid her respirations.

Johnny slid on his goggles again and waded by touch through the flowing foam
until his gloves hit the back of Roy's canvas turnout jacket. His terse report 
out sounded muffled in the deep stuff and the wind's screaming was 
mercifully, bubble filtered. "Cap! We've two female survivors. We'll need the 
resuscitator and an ambu run in now! Get the mast suit laid out second."

##10-4, Squad 51. Chet and Marco are on their way in now.## came 
Cap's speakered voice next to his ear.

Roy looked up after giving a first mouth to nose breath to the mother through 
his jaw thrust hold. "Johnny, she's good and clear. Is the bag coming?"

"Yeah. It's thirty seconds away along with the O2.."

"Johnny!?" came Kelly's voice. Abruptly, the wind's shriek returned
when the stocky fireman burst through the wall of fire foam with the
tank and breathing apparatus.

"Over here. Hand it over. Got a short airway with ya, too?" Gage asked.

"Yeah, two are taped to the mask! I hope they're the right size.. I heard
about two females."

"Yep. These are fine. Roy!" said Gage, passing off the bag valve
mask even as he strung it to the upright oxygen tank.

DeSoto tore off one of the taped oral airways and finger scissored it into place 
deftly into the mother's mouth. He began hyperventilating the woman
with the bag while Kelly secured cervical collars on both the passengers.

Chet glanced down at the teenager's slack face. "How she doing breathing
wise? Does she need help, too?"

Gage shook his head. "She's fair. Get an oxygen mask on her. I'm gonna
look for more bleeding past this femur and hip fracture." he told Chet after
he got the girl airway secured using the second one Chet had brought. Johnny 
split the clothes off the slight teenager and found a rigid distended abdomen 
when the jeans fell away. "Guarding, Roy. All quadrants."

"She gets out first..." DeSoto said.

"I'm on it. I'll get the guys in here with her spine board..." said Kelly
and he disappeared.

Right then, the foam cocooned around the plane lit up with a soft
white light as the Light Truck got her lamp tower turned on.

Roy sighed when the mother's new skin color glowed under it with a 
healthier sheen of pink. "That's better. Always good to see what
who your working on. Johnny, the mother's pupils are equal and 
reactive."

"Good deal..She wasn't dyspneic too long. Maybe the breath
was just knocked out of her when the plane fell off the wires."
Johnny guessed.

"There's more going on here than just that. She's got a depressed
skull fracture, over her left temple. I've got Battle's sign, too."
Roy said, bagging the mother carefully. "Hey!" he shouted out of
the plane. "I need a ventilator in here ASAP!"

A goggled man from truck 127 wormed his way into the plane. "Got her.."
he said, taking over breathing for the woman using the ambu bag.
"Fellas, the foam's well down. All your fire danger's over."

"Thanks.." Johnny said, getting a blood pressure reading on the
young teen. "You guys work fast."

"I don't like being slow at airplane calls. They like to blow up far too 
often for my taste." said the fireman. "Is this rate good?" he asked
Roy. 

"Yeah, a little fast like that's a good thing. It should slow her cerebral 
swelling a bit." said the foam dotted paramedic as he ran hands over the
mother to find out her other injuries. "Watch for vomiting. She made do
some with that head injury."

"I'm all eyes." 

Soon, Gage, DeSoto, Kelly and Lopez had the two women out of the
plane on longboards and stokes with the daughter's blanketed additionally
with mast trousers. "Cap, we're gonna need the traction splint for the girl! 
This femur's causing complications. Her left foot pulse's absent!" Roy shouted 
as the bunch of firefighters assigned to the plane moved the passengers 
out of the roadway and away from the plane.

Gage looked up sharply at that even as he radioed out to Rampart.

Hank jogged over with the Hare a minute later, still wearing his googles.
"How about for the mother?"

"Just a suction set up..." DeSoto said.

"In seconds, pal." said Cap as he watched Kelly and Marco scramble to lay
the victims gently down by the sheltering side of the rescue squad out
of the hot santa ana winds. The glare from the generator lamps on the Light
Truck cast surreal shadows on the badly hurt mother and daughter. It 
made all their blood reddened wounds wash into pallid shades of purple 
gray.

Roy glanced up at Marco. "Help me stop this leg bleeding. This is from
an arterial cut so don't worry about hurting her any. The fracture's not
open. I'm going to go get a set of vitals on the mother.."

"Pressure point?"

"No. Use direct pressure. That foot's circulation's been compromised enough.
Also that sagging femur's hidden the femoral artery you'd need. If she's still
bleeding real bad after we get the Hare traction on, ignore what I said and
switch over to that groin point until it works. You'll have the bone shaft back 
to push on then."  

Lopez nodded his goggled face, tight with concentration.

Johnny shouted his hail once again to get his voice louder than the wind.
"Rampart this is Squad 51. How do you read?"

-------------------------------------------------------------------------

Photo:  Johnny opening a plane door.

Photo:  An unconscious teenager on her back.

Photo:  A rolling cockpit view of a crashing plane.

Photo:  Chet grabbing a Hare traction splint from the squad.

Photo:  Firemen spraying foam thickly over a fuel spill.

Photo:  Gage covering a dead man.

Photo:  Roy and Marco working over a victim.

****************************************************************
From :  patti keiper <pattik1@hotmail.com> 
Sent :  Saturday, May 21, 2005 4:56 PM 
Subject :  From the Devil's Mouth..  


Dixie McCall looked up from the patient chart she was
working on when the red light above the door of the glassed
in base station started flashing. She dropped what she was
doing and entered the tiny room. "Unit calling Rampart, would
you repeat your transmission?" she asked as she turned on 
the audio recorder next to the alcove receiver.

##Rampart, this is Rescue 5-1.##

Dixie punched the talk button again even as her other hand
picked up the black paging phone to the hospital operator.
"Go ahead, 51. I read you loud and clear."
Dixie began to jot down Johnny's findings with one hand and
got a doctor tipped off about the incoming paramedic call
she had. She squinted when the finer details of Gage's voice
were nearly drowned out by the high winds in his area. ::Oh, it's
started already? Kel's not gonna like knowing the Santa Anas 
are here so early.:: she thought to herself. They sounded un-usually
bad for 51, who was showing up on the frequency's indicator
in their usual service area inside the valley.

"I found I.D.s in wallets on both women.They've the same last name, 
Johnny." Stoker said, squatting down by him.

"Ok, thanks, Mike." Gage nodded.

Johnny began shouting. ##Rampart, I have three victims of 
a vertical fall from over thirty feet sustained while inside
an airplane. Victims one and two, are unconscious females who
are a confirmed mother and daughter pair.
Victim one is approximately sixteen years of age with probable 
pelvic and femur fractures with extensive abdominal guarding. Most
likely from additional internal injuries. Pulses in her effected extremity 
are absent. An unrelated arterial wound over her left leg is now under 
active bleeding control. I estimate around 800 cc's blood loss. She's 
now on sixteen liters of O2. 
Victim two is fifty,..##Gage said reading the age on the I.D. that 
Mike had found on the mother. ##Found in marked Cheynes/Stokes
respirations. She has a depressed skull fracture over her left
temple area also with early Battle's sign. She is under assisted 
ventilations. So far, we've no evidence of abnormal isipilateral 
pupillary responses.
Both victims are C-spine immobilized. Victim Three is male,...##
Gage looked up when Roy slapped his notepad against his
jacket's arm that contained pen scribbled details....##....deceased 
from his injuries.## He took it and bent it into the truck tower's light 
to read it. ##Vital signs are: Victim one, BP 76/50, respirations.. ah,.. 
28 and shallow. Pulse is 140, rapid and weak. She is acutely diaphoretic.
Victim two, BP is 152/120. Respirations unassisted are eight, but she's 
no longer showing an abnormal CNS respiratory pattern. Pulse is 
sixty and regular. No obvious signs of other injury...Rampart, note
that we have mast trousers already set up and standing by for victim 
number one.## 

Dixie's fingers flew. "10-4, 51. On victim one, go ahead and apply her
suit first, inflating only the chambers over her uninjured leg and abdominal 
areas until her blood pressure elevates out of shock. Then secure your
needed traction. For victim two, maintain assisted ventilations. Keep both 
victims' body temperatures warm after drying them off." the nurse suggested,
already knowing that a plane crash meant fuel leaks and that fuel leaks
were always handled with a light water fan raining over the rescuing 
firefighters. "A doctor is on his way to advise you further. Stand by."

##Squad 51,....standing by...## yelled Johnny over the roaring 
winds. He looked up at Cap and the others crouching over the daughter. 
"We got permission..Make it fast.." he motioned to them about the Hare 
traction splint and the antishock pants go ahead for the daughter.
"Let me know when you guys get a pedal pulse on that foot!  Stoker, get 
us some blankets, would ya?"

"Grabbing em.." he said. 

Marco spoke up, spitting some dust out of his mouth.
"Johnny, there's nothing in this leg wound at all from what I can tell." he 
said adding another dressing on top of the soaked ones under his gloves.
"I've got a whole lotta pooling. But it's no longer spurting."

"Has it stopped yet?" Roy asked Lopez from where
he was listening to the mother's breath sounds with a stethoscope.

"Yeah. For the most part. But she's wet from the hose wash, I don't
know if this cut's clotted up completely enough or not yet." the hispanic fireman 
frowned from where he was leaning over the girl using most of his weight.

"We just have to stay ahead of it.." Roy smiled at him through his
goggles. "Once these I.V.s go in, just tape that up best you can." he said
lofting a pair of Ringers and one normal saline line over his shoulder while 
he spiked three bags. Then he studied the care being given to the mother.
"Monroe, slow to normal vents on her. I'm not getting any bad cerebral swelling
symptoms here." he said watching the older woman's face and the area around 
her eyes. "And another point in our favor..She's not getting nauseated."
he said, glancing at her bare abdomen's quiet breath rises and falls, which
were entirely free of queasy tensing or rocking motions.

Gage propped the biophone receiver onto his neck as he rechecked the 
young teenager's vital signs. When he was through, Dr. Brackett had come
on the line. ##Squad 51, start two large bore Ringer's wide open on victim one. 
Draw a red top for a type and cross. Start a normal saline TKO with 0.5g/kg 
of mannitol over 20 minutes, I.V.,on your second victim. I want to stave off any 
uncal herniation from that skull fracture site on the mother. Let me know if you 
regain a pulse after stabilizing that sagging femur fracture on the daughter. 
And I want EKG readings on both as soon as you can get them."

Johnny acknowledged a reply and repeated their medical orders back
to Brackett. He nodded when he got a smile from Cap about regained
circulation in the broken leg stretched inside the Hare traction splint.

Crawling around to the teenager's chest,  Stanley began to put EKG pads
on her after drying off her skin with an edge of a blanket from several brought
by Stoker.  Hank then thought of their time factor situation and saved over a 
minute by throwing open the defibrillator. He lifted out and then set ungelled 
paddles onto the mother's ribs and stomach in their usual frame around the 
heart for a faster way to send in the second strip to Dr. Brackett after he
had the daughter wired up.

Gage vigorously nodded approval over that plan and he made the
adjustment on the biophone radio to carry the other cardiac signal from
them.

Roy shifted his attention to the teenager after passing off the mother's
mannitol piggybacked I.V. to a waiting ambulance attendant. Then he 
scrambled over to Johnny and plucked the phone from him so he could 
finish starting the younger girl's I.V.s without getting a crimp in his neck.
He picked up the pad Johnny had added to and read it aloud. "Rampart,
all medications are in. Both EKGs will be Lead Two. One hard wired, the
other through the datascope." he said.

##Understood, 51. We're all set here for those cardiac readings.## he said,
after turning on the secondary defib/heart reader next to the 
always-running-hot, usual one. 

Gage looked to Monroe. "Ok, pause for a sec while we send hers
in..." he told the firefighter working the mother's ambu bag. Monroe stopped
his vents and carefully made sure that he wasn't touching the mother so his 
own heart rhythm wouldn't read out through the defib paddles Hank was
pressing down firmly.

After half a minute, Brackett came back on the line. ##Looking good on
both, 51. I'm seeing no arrythmias anywhere and I note victim one's sinus
tach rate of 140, which is more than stable enough for me in this stage of
the game.##

"10-4, Rampart." said DeSoto. "Ok, Cap. You can put em away. Thanks.
Monroe, it's ok now to start up on her again."

Stanley sighed and repackaged the defibrillator shut. He carried it
over to the daughter and set it on the long board between her knees
next to the upended datascope still running a live feed off her where
the two paramedics could watch it. Without being told, he took the tube
of blood Roy had gotten and taped it to one of the teenager's I.V. lines
for safe keeping after marking down what time it had been drawn with
a pen from his pocket.

Dr. Brackett suffered a sudden afterthought. ##51, how's that foot doing 
now?##

Roy glanced up at Chet who was still giving the thumbs up from his place
at the ankle end of the Hare traction splint. "Pink and pulsing, Rampart."

##Good. Get both your victims in here as soon as possible, 51. Go ahead
and radio any further complications if and when they arise and gimme new
sets of vital signs every five minutes.##

"10-4, Rampart. Transporting as soon as possible. Our ambulances are 
on scene. Our estimated ETA to you is twelve minutes." said Roy.

##This is Rampart base, signing out.## replied Brackett.

There was no place more welcoming than the inside of the two
spacious Mayfairs away from the raging bite of the hot winds. Gage wasn't
aware of the tiny abrasions over his eyelids until he tried to rub them free
of dirt after pulling off his dusty goggles. He placed his live HT onto
a knee. "Roy, I'll meet you there. I've got the daughter loaded."

DeSoto replied from his own rig. ##O.K., Johnny. The mother's now breathing 
ok on her own without us helping her.##

Gage grinned at his ambulance attendant wrapping up the long boarded 
daughter in a heated blanket. "That's a good sign all around, Roy. My victim's
pressure is now in the low nineties with just Dixie's recommended 
light mast inflation. And Marco's tape job is staunching the worst bleeding 
well from the leg so far. I didn't need a hemostat for that laceration at all. But 
I wish I could wash my face and irrigate both my eyes out right about now. The 
wind's skinned me alive."

##Count your blessings, junior. We won back two out of three straight outta
the devil's mouth. Your poor hide's a small price to pay for that kind of score
card.## 

"I suppose you're right, pally. But next call, I'm donning my whole entire 
scba setup whether we need it or not.  I like to keep my face's skin in one piece 
thank you very much."

##Good idea. Think I'll copy ya, too. Betcha I'll be faster getting into mine.##

"No bet. I don't think either of us'll win that race. Absolutely nobody hates this
wind storming up more than Cap does. He leaped back into the Ward cab to 
get out of the weather so fast, I thought he broke a few hinges on the engine's
door. I honestly think that he'll be sleeping in his air gear tonight, Roy, and in 
his bunk, too. Complete with helmet and all."

##I wouldn't be surprised. Tell you what? How about we both get checked out
by a doc when we get there. I kinda banged my shoulder a bit slipping on some
foam.##

"You did? Well, why didn't you say so?!" Gage complained into his walkie 
talkie's speaker.

##Uh,, I didn't feel it, not until I got in here where it's quiet. Kinda the same story
you just related to me about your face and eyes.##

"Ok, you got me on that. I'll stop yelling cause I'm guilty of the same crime about
hiding an injury. I got more than just my face. I got my hand pinched in the pilot's 
seat getting over to him."

##Ice and elevate, partner.##

"Not until you do."

##Can't do that, my shoulder doesn't lift any higher.##

"You know what I mean..." sighed Gage wearily.

##Yeah, I know what you mean. See you at the hospital. I think Lopez's
bringing us the squad.##

"Hope he manages to snag us all a few burgers on the way in. I'm starving."

##Just don't go starting any I.V. on yourself. I'd hate to fill out all the paperwork
after a doctor finds out about you pulling a stunt like that.##

"All right, all right. I'll just choke down a "gluke" tube or two."

##Those'll work. At least eating sugar leaves no traces. I'll vouch for ya with 
the supply requisitions for getting new ones. We really had a ton of 
hypoglycemic kid calls the last few days, didn't we?##

Gage could practically hear Roy's teasing wink over the HT. He
bit the ends off both sugar tubes and starting sucking. "Wish I can hide my 
face, Roy. Dixie's gonna fuss over me something awful."

##I'll just moan a little louder over my shoulder, Johnny. That way, the problem's 
solved. She'll spend less time dabbing all that alcohol over those scratches of 
yours for worrying over me. I know how much you hate that kind of first aid.##

"I can't help being such a sensitive guy.."

##I know you can't. Now shut up and eat before you faint. Just make sure
you keep an eye on the daughter's monitor while you're doing it.##

"Mother's helper."

##Yep. I am one in this ambulance. Only makes sense to spread
the wealth around a little. HT 51, out.## said Roy smugly.

Gage leaned forward to tap on the driver to cab window of the ambulance
and rapped on it once. It opened. "Say, Malcolm. Kill the sirens, kay?
No one can hear us for all this wind anyway. The reds'll be enough. I could use
a little less noise and I'm sure she can, too." he said, pointing to his patient.
"Getting some rest is a good thing."

"Uh huh.." said the driver with mild fatigue. The flip door snapped shut.

"Typical." Johnny grumbled to the other attendant. "Be glad you two aren't
firefighters. Cause I've a feeling that my whole station'll be spending the 
the rest of the week out in that howling mess out there. You haven't lived
until your ears are ringing from Santa Ana wind shrieks. Try sleeping with
that going on. Cause that's what I've got going on right now, real bad."

Malcolm's partner smiled supportively and reached up to scratch on
the peek window with a few nails, softly.

Johnny looked up with surprise when the sirens actually turned off.

"Mine are ringing, too, man. And so are his up front. We've been waiting
for one of you paramedics to actually ask for silent mode. It took a 
smart guy like you to finally do it. And I mean that in a nice way."
said the attendant.

------------------------------------------------------------------

Photo:  Dixie picking up the red phone inside base station.

Photo: Roy and Johnny rolling a victim over in a small space.

Photo:  Johnny and Roy help a C-spine long boarded teenager.

Photo:  Malcolm and another ambulance attendant.

Photo:  The defibrillator datascope from above.

Photo:  Cap listening to something with scba gear on.

*******************************************************************
From: "Cassidy Meyers" <killashandraRey@hotmail.com> 
Date: Mon May 23, 2005  5:27 pm 
Subject: The Hornet's Nest.. 


Johnny and Roy arrived to the hospital and passed off their two patients
to Dr. Morton and Dr. Brackett, who immediately set in to get the two
fall victims into surgery.

Dixie McCall, on the other hand, was parked in her usual place at
the front desk of the emergency room, hemmed in by constantly
ringing phones. The two on the wall and the white one in front of her
were nearly jumping off their hooks.

"Rampart, emergency. This is Dixie McCall. How can I help you?"
she said into the receiver even while she picked up a second and
plunked it onto her shoulder. She flashed the two dusty, foam flecked
firefighters a look of instant desperation. "Rampart emergency, can you
hold?"

Gage immediately pointed, seeing the need for another rescue.
"Want us to answer some of those? Uh,...are we allowed to?"

"Feel free. The entire hospital switchboard's overwhelmed with calls
and every treatment room's occupied. You just gave us our last
two patients. The rest of the ambulance inbounding have been diverted
to other hospitals." she said quickly.

"It's been that busy?!" Johnny said incredulously.

"You have to ask?" McCall whimpered. "The d*mned wind's made everybody
go crazy tonight. What hasn't happened? Your downed plane was a piece
of cake compared to runs the other boys've been on." she said, throwing a
careless hand at the status board full of red and yellow magnets. Every one
of them was slid over into the on-scene column. Dixie took a deep breath
and then she set both phones over her ears and started talking. "Ok, the worst 
first. Maam, go ahead. Sir, you're second. Go." 

Gage awkwardly reached for a ringing phone with haste to ease the worst 
of Dixie's phone burden. 

Roy, in the meantime, started digging in the supply cupboard for the things 
they needed on his own. He reached around Dixie's shoulders for the supply 
forms even as he kissed the top of her head in friendly encouragement. 
"Hang in there. If you drop in your tracks, don't worry. Gage and I have
an oxygen tank and EKG monitor right here.." he said jerking a head over
to the squad equipment they had brought out of the treatment room with them.

Dixie rolled her eyes and kept talking. "You say he's got dust in his eyes from
the wind and can't open them? All right. Are you near a sink?" she asked the
woman.

Then she shifted her head and spoke with the man on the white phone. 
"Sir, we can't do anything about your insomnia. Have you tried a warm
milk toddy?"

And on and on it went. Minor call after minor call. For around ten minutes.

Marco Lopez soon arrived and waved at Roy. He caught wind of the
flood of calls and took prompt advantage of it. He sat down next
to Roy in a vacant waiting room chair to leaf through the paper, ignoring
Gage who was swamped and now wrapped in phone cords. He ignored
Johnny's looks to come help out. "Sorry, can't. I'm not a nurse or paramedic.
Not allowed." he shrugged.

By the time the phone slam was over, even Johnny was sweating for taking down 
so many notes and offering out fast and pointless first aid advice to all the petty
concern callers he had spoken to. He hung up his last caller in exasperation.
"Man, Dixie.. Have all of these phone calls been as pointless and stupid as
the nine I took?"

"Yep." said McCall, wearily collapsing a head on the desk. Gage chivalrously
got her a cup of coffee, complete with a dimpled napkin.

"I've already been stimulated enough, thanks. You drink it. You're still hungry."

Johnny did a double take. "How did you know, Dix?"

"You still got gluke paste on your lips. Here.." she said without looking up.
The paper napkin full of jaunty flowers was thrust up into his face. "Give me
a bit to reboot my brain and I'll see about getting the treatment room
you guys need for your bumps and bruises..."

"Wait a minute, how did y--" Gage was about to say. "Never mind.." he said.
"I just gotta learn that your powers of telepathy are just as good as Stoker's
weather voodoo."

Dixie lifted her hair strewn exhausted head up at that. "Huh?"

"Nothing. Roy and I just got an inside track from our engineer about how
the winds are gonna nail us..." Gage sighed expansively. Then he regarded
the coffee cup and walked fingers over to it. "Are you sure you don't mind?"
he said, hungry eyes fastening on the cup of coffee.

"Be my guest..." Dixie said, parking a frazzled head onto her hands folded
over the dozens of notes she and Johnny had taken. "Drink up! It may be
the last meal you'll ever--" Then she jerked, reaching for a phone on the 
wall behind her. 

Gage stopped her with a grab. "Dixie.."

"What?!"

"It's not ringing yet..."

"Oh... It isn't? Sorry. Thanks. I can't tell anymore. My ears are still ringing
and so's my whole head."

"Really?" piped up Roy, folding over to the horse racing section.
"Funny that. So our ours." he laughed without humor. "Say, Dixie. Ya
got any ear pl--"

Dixie's hand tipped up a box of styrofoam ear plugs that she had next
to the tissue box. It was already half empty. "Help yourself. The
other paramedics already have. Amply. Better safeguard your hearing
now, boys. Ayers is booked solid dealing with ear trauma cases. Did
you know that five cases of perforated eardrums filed on in here in
just the last hour alone?"

"No kidding.." said Marco, looking surprised. "Caused by all this wind?"

"Yep." nodded Dixie tiredly. "A straight line's perfect for kicking up
stones and litter from off the ground. City missiles.. Joe's coined them."

"Wonderful. A new malady for the santa ana's already growing list."
Roy sighed. His stomach growled, making it over the screeching of
the winds outside the entrance doors. "He should write a paper and
capitalize on it."

"He already has." Dixie said. Then she reached for Johnny's eyelid
scratched and puffing face. "Ooo, those look like they smart.." 

DeSoto immediately made good his promise and jerked in a twinge.
"Oww, d*mned shoulder!  Ooo. Next time, Johnny. You crawl under the
plane to reach someone. I'm too big to play." he fussed exaggeratedly.

It worked. Dixie immediately magneted over to Roy's side and plunked
down on the empty seat next to him. "The left one?"

"Yeah, it's nothing."

"Pretty painful nothing, Roy. Can you move it full range?"

"Enough to feed myself, which is all I'm interested in." DeSoto said,
sniffing at Marco's jacket. "Lopez.. tell me you stopped at the burger
stand.." he said indignantly. "You're not smelling like smoke here."

"Didn't have time. I got an ambulance on my butt and had to scoot in
fast so I wouldn't slow them down while getting here." Marco told him.

"What ambulance?" Roy glared, some of his humor sliding away.
"I don't see one..."

"Roy, blame me. That one was probably the one I sent to Regents
when I saw you two filing in with our last two criticals." Dixie said.
"Here, let me get you some ice.." she said, rising to get some
from a wheeled specimen cooler next to the drinking fountain.

Gage drained half the coffee pot before he remembered his
coworkers and sheepishly offered them some into two mugs.
"Do I dare ask the question?"

Roy glared again. "Don't, junior. You'll jinx us.."

"Ok.. ok.. I won't. Seems the fire radio's quiet enough though.
It's not even scanning." Gage said, throwing a head at the
all band sitting above the ekg monitor outside the base station.

Dixie kept her tongue still to honor superstition 
and pointed back at the status board with a pencil, even as she 
nestled an ice bag under Roy's shirt over his sore spot. 

Not one magnet labelled fire had been moved into action.

"That's a minor mercy if I ever saw one.." DeSoto said.
"Dix, that wind is bad. Real bad. I wouldn't be surprised
if the whole mountain range ringing us went up in smoke."

"Roy!! Cut it out. You'll make me think about my ranch again."
said Johnny, almost spilling his coffee.

"What about your ranch, Johnny?" Dixie said, distracted.

"It's in the line of  f...i...r..e." he said spelling it out. "Literally.
I just hope I remembered to renew my homeowner's insurance,
or I'll get to be the proud owner of a twenty acre pile of ashes."

"Don't fret until it's a reality Johnny, or you'll just burn yourself 
out on it."

"Too late. I already have." Gage sighed, finishing his mug.

Dixie grabbed Marco's grimy chin, examining it gently. 
"Are you banged up, too?" Her eyes drifted to the stains of
blood around his sleeves that he had gotten from helping
the daughter out.

"Nah, Dixie. None of this is mine. I'm just the squad driver." 
he answered. "I just haven't hosed off yet."

"Use the doc's locker room. You can't walk into a hamburger
stand looking like a war casualty." she sniffed.

Lopez rose eagerly. "Thanks, Dix, for the invitation. Best offer
I've had all night. I'll go shower off my jacket. I promise to 
disinfect afterwards."

"Never doubted you for a moment, Marco." McCall smiled, 
watching him retreat for the locker room.

"That's not fair.." Roy whined. "We can't do the same thing.
We got all this equipment and all these supplies to watch."

"Nice perk for being a regular fireman.." Dixie said. "Maybe 
you should quit the paramedic program and regain it back."

"Not a chance. I like my extra pay.." DeSoto grumbled.
"I've got kids, remember?"

"Hush.. you're just crabby cause you're hungry. Here." Dixie
mothered, grabbing a gluke tube out of her uniform pocket.
"Eat before Joe sees that shoulder of yours if you want to 
stay on duty. Your pressure's probably sky high compensating
for your low blood sugar and foul mood."

Roy moused down sheepishly and began slurping down the
sugar.

"Good boy... Now for some cof--" she broke off. "Guys..you didn't
leave any left for me.." she said snatching the empty clear glass
pot from Johnny's dusty hand.

Gage hastily ran for the coffee brewer to make some more just
for her.


---------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
Joe Early completed his examination of Roy's shoulder. "I don't
think you tore your rotator cuff, Roy. It's probably just a strain. It
should clear up in a couple of days if you take it easy."

"Don't think I can take it easy, doc. Not when the Santa anas
are blowing.." Roy smiled.

"Don't remind me. This is the slowest I've been all day." Dr. Early
snorted. "You can go ahead and put your shirt back on."

"So is he gonna live?" Johnny grinned.

"A long and healthy life. That is if he eats how I keep telling you
firefighters how to eat. Boys, you're getting sloppy again. I can smell
the glucose paste on your breaths from here."

Roy and Johnny both blushed a proper shade of red. "We promise
to hit the hamburger stand."

"Make sure you mean that hypothetically. I've already taken care
of a pair of paramedics who wrecked their squad when a wind gust
blew a roof down in front of it."

"No kidding. Roy, did you hear a call for that over your HT?!  I sure
didn't." Johnny's face dropped into horror. "They ok, doc? Who's was it?"

"It was out of your district. They're fine. But I can't tell you what station. 
I've been sworn to secrecy about it at their request."

"That's ok. Knowing Charlie the mechanic, we'll all find out about it
before midnight.." Roy said, smiling. "He knows nothing about
sparing anyone a little embarrassment. And that's not even his worst
trait."

"Sounds like one h*ll of a mechanic." Joe preambled.

"He is. I swear, doc. He treats the squad and engine better than we
do our patients.." Gage laughed. "Are we done?"

"Yep. That is if you still don't want anyone messing with your facial
abrasions." Dr. Early said, pointing to Johnny's eyes.

Johnny sagged. "They're only gonna get dirty again anyway during
a fire or something. Why bother?"

"Because germs aren't our friends, Johnny." DeSoto piped up.
"Doc, he wouldn't even let me clean him up."

"Maybe your Captain Stanley can convince him when you guys reach
the fire command center.." Dr. Early said.

Both paramedics stopped short. "Wh-- what do you mean fire 
command center?" Roy stammered.

Joe simply pointed to the scanner radio on top of the defibrillator in
the room. "We've been put on High Alert, boys. Seems half of Malibu's
already on fire. Go to the nurse's lounge after we're done here and
go check it out on TV. Johnny, your fire district's the only one not yet
locked into a full firefight.  So I suggest you grab some chow while you
still have the time cause I've a feeling that things are going to get a
whole lot worse before they get better. And you'll be doing it alone. 
Rampart's been put out of the picture cause we're already at full bed 
capacity. Good luck, boys. Needless to say, I'll be thinking about you 
fellas a whole lot while you're stuck up there." And with that, the 
sympathetic soft spoken doctor, left the room.

"Roy.." Johnny gasped.

"What?!" overreacted Roy even as he struggled back into his grimy
T shirt. He was still shaky from his hunger and still grumpy.

"I"m gonna kill Stoker."

"Why?" DeSoto asked, uncovering his head finally.

"Because he's proving himself right. Malibu's straight upwind from my ranch."

---------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Photo: Dixie's very busy front desk and Roy and Johnny.

Photo: Roy getting treated by Joe Early.

Photo: A raging mountain fire bearing down on the suburbs.

Photo:  A tube of insta-glucose paste.
  
******************************************************************** 
Date: Sat, 28 May 2005 13:27:01 -0700 (PDT) 
From: "Jeff Seltun" <finiterider@yahoo.com>   
Subject:  Base of Operations.. 


"You don't know that for certain. We haven't even seen
the news bulletins yet." Roy reasoned, jumping off the exam
table.

"Oh, yes I do. I got a good look at the station wall map today,
remember? Adrenaline's great for imprinting instant and total recall
of whatever your eyes are stuck on when you've been jolted by 
sheer horror like I was, seeing all that red painted over my ranch." Gage 
grumbled irritatedly.

"Johnny, those were hypothetical numbers. They weren't even real.
How can you be horrified by something you can't even taste,
touch or feel?" Roy asked as the two medics gathered up their medical
gear. Marco Lopez whizzed on by them whistling, and divested DeSoto
of the heavy defibrillator on their way out to the squad. "Give one example
of something where that's true and I'll eat my shorts."

"Carbon monoxide gas, Roy. Start salting em, cause you just lost the argument."
Gage said without a smile.

"Hmph. Can't. Or I'll get indigestion and have to have an emergency gastrectomy to 
pull em back out again." DeSoto quipped, level faced.

"Quit being so literal, Roy. I only said that because it actually made me feel 
better for a few seconds." Johnny said honestly. Then he started chewing his
fingernails again.

DeSoto slapped his hand away from his mouth. "Yuck. Nothing like foam residue
for lunch, eh?"

"Fire foam can't hurt us." Gage said, opening his passenger door and motioning
for Marco to get into the squad in between him and his partner.

"That's what they said about those asbestos tarps we used to have for years
and years. You don't see them in our trucks anymore, do you?" DeSoto sighed.

He started up the engine. Just as he was doing so, Dixie McCall came dashing out
of the emergency doors. "Boys, you forgot these!" she said, handing over the
half used box of earplugs that had been on her desk.

Gage took them from her in stride and noticed the dozen or so gluke tubes that had
been shoved inside with them with a wink. "Are you gonna get in trouble for issuing
excess supplies, Dix?"

"Nope. We're in disaster mode. You know Rampart's administrators never count 
bandaids until after it's all over. They'll just lick their wounds and write everything
that isn't a government regulated medical supply off as gone to a good cause."
McCall grinned. "And saving you three from wasting into food starved twigs enough
to blow away, definitely fits that parameter."

"Dixie, you're a miracle worker!" said Marco and he dug in eagerly for a tube to eat.

"How about telling that to the administrators upstairs, Marco?" Dixie smiled. "Maybe 
I can get a real good pay raise out of it."

"Sure will. Uh, I mean, as soon as I'm no longer tied up." and he pointed to the east.
"Looks like our calm rescue day's over fellas." A mile wide, thick column of orange lit 
brush smoke was just beginning to rise over the city margins from the foothills. Its
heavy mantel of post destruction smothered the fringes of glowing 
streetlamps gridded around the rich suburban homes of those neighborhoods.
Already, sounds of sirens pierced the night noise over the santa ana's.

"Oh, boy. Step on it, Roy. Who's closer? Mac's burgers? Or Amos's chili dogs?
We gotta scoot before we're toned out to report to the chief." Gage snivelled.

"Amos's." said Marco.
"Mac's." said Roy.

Dixie broke the tie and said. "Amos's, boys. By half a mile. Go. And stay safe
out there."

"We will.." said Roy, putting on his helmet for night travel.

"I just may see you up there, guys. And soon. It's my turn to delegate out nurses to
any evac recovery operation that might spring up because of a grade four wildlife
fire. And that certainly smells like one." she said, her limpid eyes reflecting the
mountain fire's glow.

"We'll save a pot of coffee for ya.." said Gage as Roy stepped on the gas with a 
squeal for their nearest planned source of food enough for the whole station. Dixie 
shook her head ruefully when the squad's tires screamed piercingly as it made its right
exiting, ninety degree turn under the hospital skyway.

Dixie retreated inside out of the wind to pack her field bags. Already, she could see
the head nurse relieving her from swings, on early graves, getting tangled up in 
another phone call blitz. She just hoped all of them were as uncritical and benign
as the ones she and Gage had fielded twenty minutes earlier.

--------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
"Ya got em?" pegged Hank Stanley even before the chili dog perfumed squad
had shut off its flashing backing lights.

"Plenty.." said Marco, pushing a slow Gage out of the cab. "Enough for
four dogs each." he said wiping away chili sauce from his moustache.

"Hey, Cap that's no fair.." moaned Chet. "How come Marco got to eat before
the rest of us?"

"He was faster at volunteering to take the squad in for Roy and Johnny, that's
why. Next time, leap a little higher if you're hungry and I just may pick you."
Cap said, snatching a hot dog bag from Lopez's presenting hands. He had
a dog halfway inhaled before Roy shut down the squad's power. "He's clean, too.
Remember that, Kelly. There are open showers at Rampart when it's busy.
So I don't wanna hear another gripe about taking a squad in. That chore's
packed so full of incentives I'm surprised murder isn't done whenever we
have two victims to transport at the same time."

The gang didn't even bother moving to the kitchen table for dinner.
They ate right there on top of the squad's hood, using their jacket 
gloves for snack trays.

Stoker matter of factly shrugged as he stuffed his face with food while his
other hand marked another spot with a red headed pin over the wall map
next to them showing where fire stations all around the county were being
deployed. "I'm too nice to kill anything but flames, Cap. Let the weak ones
eat first."

"Very funny.." said Chet, spilling cheese onto his shoes. "Oh, man.."

"Start slurpin', Chet." grinned Roy. "Those are the only four you're gonna get."

Johnny teased, too. "Yeah, you just go ahead and lick those shoes. If you're still
hungry afterwards, Dixie gave us all some gluke tubes for dessert."

"Really?" Chet said, whistling to Bonnie to come lap his shoetops clean.
"I claim dibs on the cherry flavored ones."

"You get what comes.." Marco said, blinding reaching into the earplug
box for his share of tubes and Chet's. He thrust his hands behind his back
without looking at what flavors he had grabbed out. "Ok, pick an arm."

"The right one." said Kelly holding still, while Bonnie the Yorkie groomed
off his shoe polish along with the chili cheese.

"Aw, nuts." finger snapped Marco. "That handful's got two cherry tubes."

"Luck of the draw, sore loser. Heghhh." he laughed in a teasing sneer.

Johnny chortled around his mouthful of meat. "Don't grouse Marco.
I can always start an IV on ya and spike it red with some koolaid or 
something to make up for it."

"Nah, that wouldn't work at all." said Lopez watching Bonnie
eat. "I don't think my veins have any tastebuds to work with."

"Yeah, but you'd be looking at it. Pysch power goes a long way if you use
your imagination." Roy teased.

"I don't like needles enough to be Gage's guinea pig for that little experiment.
I'll settle for the lemon tubes I got fair and square." sighed Lopez. 

"Thanks, Marco. Thanks, Dixie!" Chet toasted to the air with one of them. 
"Instant room temperature jelly pops. My favorite.."

Hank chided Kelly into silence for acting out his overactive sense of silliness.

Bonnie was just burping contentedly when the tones finally rolled out a brush
call standby series.

Cap jogged to his office phone to get their assignment, wiping off his mouth
with a jacket sleeve as he went.

The gang followed after him. Chet was somewhat slower because Bonnie was
still growling warnings and feeding off his chili splashed toes.

"Station 51, Los Angeles County Fire Department. This is Captain Stanley."
he greeted. "Oh, hiya Chief.." He nestled the phone onto his shoulder briefly.
"It's Houts. He's already at the command center." He lifted the phone
receiver to his ear once again. "Where to?"

The voice on the other end of the line jarbled a few questions about deployment
for Stoker, who got the passed off phone long enough to reply to the chief.
"Yes, Chief? Uh, I got em all pegged, yessir. There's only a six mile long gap 
left that hasn't been manned by FD above Bear Claw Canyon." he advised.

##Do you know the territory?## asked Chief Houts.

"Uh, not really. It's been seven or so years since that area burned, sir." replied 
the engineer loud enough so that the others could hear him.

Gage piped up. "Sir, uh, Chief?" he said, punching on the speaker phone so
that he could talk to Houts as well. "I offer my property as a base of operations.
I've insurance enough to cover and a pond that might make a good helicopter
filling point. It's in the middle of a hay field."

Hank slapped Gage's jacket in admonishment at his sneaky way of getting
the fire department onto his ranch but he had to hold his tongue or be overheard.

##Hmm. A big pond?##

"Over three acres. I've several barns, too. They'd make great bunkspace
for recuping fire jumpers. And....I'm.. right near a repeater tower direct to
L.A." Johnny buttered even further.

##Good man. Hank, didya hear Gage's offer? Use his ranch to set up
your fire district's base of operations pronto. You'll have stations eight,
ten, ninety ninety and one twenty four all under your jurisdiction. I'll trust
you to get that source of water potable for the choppers just as soon
as humanly possible.##

"Yes, sir."

##Now finish eating and get cracking, 51. And for g*d's sake start feeding
your station mascot a little better on the busy shifts. I can hear her 
complaining about the grub way over here.##

Chet Kelly piped up, "Uh, Chief, sir. That's not Bonnie's stomach rumbling,
that's----"

Hank stepped on Kelly's foot sharply and shut him up. "We're on it, chief.
Give us twenty minutes to gear up the extra hose and rescue equipment
and we'll report in. Gage, give the man your ranch address and box number.
That way he'll know where to send the others."

Johnny grinned at his success and gave the information.

When the phone hung up, no one was smiling bigger than he was.
"Let's just see my ranch burn now with five whole fire departments
and their vehicles camping out on it."

Mike Stoker just tapped the red colored region of the map 
ominously on their way out to keep Gage on a level.

-----------------------------------------------------------------------

Photo:  Roy in turnout outside Rampart's emergency doors.

Photo:  Dixie smirking mildly.

Photo:  Gage insistent and sitting from the squad's open door.

Photo: The gang gathered in the vehicle bay.

Photo:  Chili dog on a red carhood.

Photo: Johnny and Bonnie the dog, on the phone.

Photo:  Chief Houts, grinning.

Photo:  A mountain brush fire at night above a Californian city.

*****************************************************************
From: All the Voyagerliveaction Staff Writers <theaterhost@voyagerliveaction.com>
Date: Wed, 1 Jun 2005 15:49:36 -0700 (PDT) 
Subject: [EmergencyTheaterLive] Wind and Fire.. The Final Price.. 

 
Engine 51 and Squad 51 kept up tight formation as they wound into
the mountains deep in the heart of rural Los Angeles County.
Task Force Batallion came over the radio.

##Station 51. Your unit's the last one to roll in to the others on
your station's assigned call. Report to the main fire camp located
at the airfield 2 miles north of highway 14 on rural route 384. 
Your unit's designation for the duration is Task Force 2376 Charlie.
This fire's line has been plane reported as an escalating level four 
firestorm eighteen miles wide with recent accelerated fire behavior.
Use caution.##

"10-4, Battalion. Reporting to Main Incident Command. ETA approximately
fifteen minutes to that location." Stanley reported over the engine's mic.

Chet in his turnout gear gave a low whistle. "Drought conditions for
ten years and whatdidya get? H*llfire in the making and I'm not talking
about penny annie stuff. Look.." and he pointed out the window of the Ward.

The squad, roaring ahead of them, actually slowed down as the two 
paramedics rounded a corner of wild country to see what they would
eventually be facing. A black maw of pitch colored smoke 
was yawning over a tiny team of fireline fighters and their vehicles, which
were slowly retreating back down the highway to an open space at
the mountains' foothills.

Cap paused along with Roy and rolled down the window. "Can we
still get by?" he asked a worker sitting on a hill with some evacuated
civilians who were clutching pets and babies, while watching the monster
blaze approach their neighborhood town.

"Yeah, man. We saw ya coming. PD and roving FD will escort you in past
the hotspots. The road's still open but I'd recommend you get into gear
right now. The smoke's down to less than a mile visibility..." said the lieutenant.
"The reason we pulled out is for an air drop of scbas and more drip
torches."

"You heard him boys." said Cap loudly, so his paramedics could hear 
him through their open windows as well. "Ok. Stay safe fellas..." Hank 
said cheerily, hunkering down in his coat as he waved Stoker and 
DeSoto to go on. 

"We will. You too, 51." said the man.

Station 51 left the crews behind them and headed into midnight blackness.
Their first fire escort kept radio silence as transmissions were impossible
in between the steep canyon walls surrounding the valley highway.

Inky black and choking gray turned the landscape into that of the moon
with ash and darkness. The engine and squad drove forward as fast
as safely possible behind their guide's vehicle. 

At the next major highway intersection a police car suddenly flashed down
to their position from a side road. And a loud speaker boomed out
a warning. "51, detour! The fire's leaped your road quarter of a mile up.
I know a second route the way I came." said the officer.

The gang screeched to a halt and blinked as a Santa Ana lifted the smoke
veil long enough to reveal a solid fire line eating the road and the hundred
foot high slash pines on either side. The fire there was so hot, the asphalt was
already slag and ignited. "Uh, you're right. Lead the way, PD. We're on your
tail." said Cap as his eyebrows rose up into his head. 

As the engine and squad backed up back to the intersection, Marco spoke
up from his seat behind Hank. "That's a huge hot spot. I wonder where air
suppor--- Oh, there they are." he said as a fire plane and an Erickson sky
crane roared from over the clear air treeline to the highway to douse the
leaping edge in mutual attacks of red fire retardant and lake water.

The angry blaze wasn't even slowed one second.

"D*mn.. Santa anas must be feeding that firehead something awful."
said Chet.

"That's why we're not going up that way.." said Cap.

Soon, Station 51 was following the squad car through the smoke
dimmed thick pine forest. The slopes around them grew only
steeper and thicker with fire sign. Already tree top fires were
starting just through radiation effects alone.

But soon, PD broke away with a waggle and a siren squelch,
letting the station know that they had reached Fire Camp One.

Stoker coasted the Ward down the airfield to the upwind side
to gain full benefit of the clearing winds rushing in to feed the
fire on the mountain slopes above them. Roy parked the squad
next to him and the whole gang filed out.

It looked like a warzone. Yellow coated national forest firefighters 
lay whereever they had dropped to nap the sleep of the totally
exhausted in any available space they could find. On the backs
of filling pumpers, along roadside guardrails and on the bare ground
in between fueling trucks.  Dixie was already at camp with her army
of nurses, still in her white hospital uniform and cap. She was
going from man to man, as all the Rampart nurses were, to be sure 
that each fighter was well watered and not hiding injuries from
their commanders just to suit a "being macho" image that so many
of them carried like badges.

Dixie waved at Station 51 that she could see across the field
and they waved back as they reported in to the incident command
tables set near a row of airplane hangers.  

Roy announced his squad's status as being free and available 
paramedics by flinging all the gear doors on the squad wide open 
with a pair of empty stokes set up vertical against the front bumper. 
They'd be running on visible cues only from the others in camp until
they knew what radio frequencies units were assigned to for medical
call monitoring. A minute passed but not one firefighter or support
crew flagged them down. DeSoto thought perhaps it would take
a while for word to spread that a paramedic unit was on the field.

After getting the word, the gang got one each from their rings 
of twin ID jacket tags turned into the clipboard crew at the head table.
They cast their eyes about for familiar faces. Johnny soon located
one in an old man, a civilian, sitting with his white german sheperd in
a large green wooden lawn chair on top of an old battered pickup truck.

"Graben! What the heck are you doing here? Guys, this is Graben Joergg.
He's a retired horse trainer who helps me get chores done around the place
whenever I'm away at work in the city..."

"Hiya Johnny boy. Hi fellas. Nice to meet you finally so I got faces to put
with all the names. This here's Snowflake." he said, stroking the head of
a beautiful white dog who lay panting in his lap. The dog's weight didn't
seem to bother the old man at all. "He's Johnny's right hand dog whenever
he's riding back into the scrubland to check on the wild horses ranging
up there." he said, pointing a gnarled sun freckled finger up at the burning
mountains ringing them. "And before ya ask. Yes, the ranch is still there. And yes,
Command's using your pond to get their water buckets filled. Your waterhole's
pretty much drained already." and Graben began to chuckle with a throaty rasp.
"The water level's so low that the copters pass out of sight as they go
into the basin for a water pickup. Quite a sight. So far, just the sky cranes 
are actually using it. "

"I'll fix that with a quick radio report once we get our incident HTs from the
forest crews. They're being calibrated to our new call sign and the rest of
the four stations with our assigned unit." Gage smiled. "Where's Kehayke?"

"Your aunt's around here somewhere, feeding the boys. She says 
your wild horse ranch band's taken off for the high country. I was gonna go 
find them to make sure they skiddaddled but these fireboys around me 
said no one not a homeowner's allowed up there, because of the fire."

"And they're right." said Cap in a no nonsense tone of voice. "You'd
be best staying put." he said, petting the relaxed white dog gently.

"Doesn't the caretaker house we stay in count, Johnny? We don't own it
but we live there.." asked Graben.

Gage started making denial noises but then the need for truth got the best
of him. "It's possible to return. But only with a fire crew going with you. As
your boss, I can order you to stay in camp.."

"Not your aunt, Johnny. You can't order her without the police to back you
up. She's family. And I know about family. Cause they're visiting me right
now. My boy and my grandson."

The gang drifted away from Gage to give him a little privacy.

"You mean they're still at the ranch?" Johnny said with dismay.

"Yeah, where else are they supposed to go? Besides them four
fire stations are surrounding them real nice like. I don't know how ya 
did it getting em to come but that was smart thinking, boy. They're doing
a real fine job clearing space around the buildings. I'm going because
she's going and that's that." he protested.

Johnny threw up his hands. "Ok, you're right. I guess I can't convince
you two not to go back up there. But promise me you'll listen to the fire 
crews and stick with them, ok? Tell Kehayke to forget about the mountain 
horses.  H*ll they're mostly wild already after being loose all spring and
summer. They've more sense than firefighters do when fire's a factor. 
They'll get to safety on their own. Promise me that you two will just evacuate
the horses in the barn."

"I will, but it'll be harder convincing your aunt to promise that. 
She worries about those wilder horses of yours more than her own children 
sometimes. And you know that for a fact. "

A shout from Cap got his attention. "Look Graben, I gotta go. Looks like we're
finally getting our situation report. I'll try to swing an excuse to get up there 
and help ya, ok? Don't do anything stupid."

"Like I would.." laughed Graben. "I'm old enough to be your grandfather."

Johnny had to grin and he put on the helmet he'd been holding as he jogged
away to the forested clearing Cap and the others had gathered in.

Snowflake whined as the paramedic moved away. "Hush, Snow. He'll be all
right, that one. It's his aunt we need to worry about. " he said rising to
his feet. "Come on, let's go find her and deliver Johnny's message, ok?"

The old man and the white dog left for the food trailers.

---------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Captain Stanley was already meeting with a fire jumper fresh out
of the surrounding forest. Gage wandered up in time to hear the core of
the news.

"....This monster's already straining the firecamp's resources to the 
breaking point and beyond..." said the sooty firefighter. "Usual and customary 
procedures are going out the window, captain, not by design, but because way too 
much is happening in way too many places and way too fast, sir." he said.
Then he leaned forward to all the gang and whispered.  " I really don't think
Incident Command is able to grow personnel fast enough to meet 
requirements on the fire line. I've heard of way too many guys who're being
ordered to pull out and retreat, even before they've had a chance to backburn
anything."

Johnny grew immediately uneasy and cast worried eyes in the direction
of the mountain slope where his ranch lay. "How about Bear Claw Canyon?
What's happening there?"

"Don't know, medic. I haven't heard. Communications have been as patchy as
getting immediate supply and water support. Sorry." the man shrugged. "All
I need to know is that the guys from my unit are getting their *ss*s kicked.
We've three on the injured list already. Do me a favor medic, keep an ear
out for Task Force 1117 Beta. That's me. If you get a Code I, come running.
I want no one dying today.." said the man, getting more and more agitated.

His rising stress and anxiety began to prey on 51's gang.

Hank put an immediate halt on that effect. "Hey mister, take it easy. We'll do
everything we can paramedic wise. That'll be one resource that won't fizzle
out on you and your crew. Ok? I'm personally overseeing that no one within
ten miles of me goes without treatment. Just remember that this whole thing's 
workable. Eventually you'll get to the backside of the thermal curve, the fires'll 
die down, the winds'll abate. The trick is to just get through it, event by event. 

Just protect yourselves and your equipment, and, when you get the chance, 
make things better one small piece at a time. This blaze can't burn forever. 
There's not enough fuel in the world to keep it going once it reaches the lowlands 
for I know this whole part of the county's been lumbered to death wherever it 
was flat enough for trucks and crews to reach."

The exhausted dirty firefighter shook Captain Stanley's hands in gratitude.
"Thanks, again, sir. We'll be watching for you and your partner, medic."
he said, returning to his crew heading for the rest and recovery station
near the roving nurses.

Hank sighed as the newly issued walkie talkies they carried expressed a 
department wide update. ##....Strong Santa Ana conditions will drive predicted 
daytime temperatures above 90F leading up to the fire. In addition, humidity is reported
down to single-digits, and 40 mi/h westerlies are blowing from the desert toward the coast. 
Results are mass ignition, rapidly-moving fire, and extreme fire behavior, including large 
fire whirls. All elements of the fire triangle are present and at high levels, still classified :
Firestorm. This is Incident Command weather bulletin for 1900 hours and--##

Cap tuned out the rest of the broadcast. Mike Stoker folded his arms and started
rubbing his chin.

"Uh, oh. Stoker's pondering again, guys. I don't think I like seeing that." said Chet.

Mike proved him flawless in feel. "Hmm, releve' seventeen... That mountain..." he
said pointing in the direction of Johnny's canyon and ranch. "..has got a 90%
impenetrable, 12-foot-high chaparral cover. Steep canyon walls and approaching 
Santa Ana wind conditions. Fuel's dense on the ground, with dried out chaparral 
available in large quantities in the inland valleys and foothills."

"What the heck is chapparal, Stoker? Sounds like an aftershave." said Lopez.

Stoker smiled, then his face fell into a quiet seriousness. "Chaparral is a fire-adapted 
bush, part of what fire ecologists call "fire climax" ecosystems. Its ground fuel does 
not naturally rot or otherwise disappear like other vegetation. It doesn't deplete 
until a wildfire takes place and the shrub's growing cycle can start again from seed."

Roy asked the unspoken question. "What does Bear Claw Canyon consist of?"

"96 % Chaparral on firecrew inaccessible slopes." he said softly. 

The gang fell silent, growing scared for Gage. 

Johnny mumbled. "So that's why my ranch's red on the map, huh?"

"Yeah, sorry. Chaparral's an indicator species I can't ignore in all
my numbers."

"So I bought my new home on the range right smack in the middle of a 
giant tinderbox.  That's just terrific...No wonder it was so cheap."
Gage said.

"Look on the bright side, Johnny,.." said Chet. "After the fires move
through. The grass'll grow back real lush enough for all your rehabilitated
mustangs."

"That's if I have a ranch left with which to manage them." growled Johnny.

Kelly moused down and swallowed hard under Johnny's irritated gaze.

The whole station was galvanized when there came a call from
Beta 1117 direct.

"Hey, isn't that the fire jumper's unit?" asked Marco as they all ran
back to the fire trucks.

"Yep. Looks like the fire's playing more than a little hard for those
boys. DeSoto, Gage. This one's a medical. Get on it." Cap said as
he listened to his command HT's channel.

"Right, Cap." And soon, there was no more time for worry.

-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Squad 51 pulled up at a group of outbuildings on the shore of
a river. The far side was engulfed in flames and completely hostile
to human life.

Roy and Johnny pulled up and got out their gear when they spotted
a couple of Type II firefighters huddled on the ground, giving oxygen
to another one who was just starting to move.

"What happened here?" asked Roy.

"We had to abandon our spike camp.." said the firefighter at the
gasping man's head. "Jerry here was a little slow getting into
the water during our escape. We swam across. I think he got a
lungful of vacuum when the trees exploded. His tank ran out."

"Crown fires are air hogs. Was he unconscious long?" Gage asked.

"Nah, started breathing right away when we got him out of the
river. Our main concern is a check for super heating or not. His
chopper's on the way."

Gage nodded and started talking. "Jerry? Can you hear me? Can
you breathe ok or do you think you need a little help?" he said,
setting a hand on the firefighter's chest to feel for any bubbling
vibrations through his clothes.

Jerry just moaned incoherently and flung a hand over his face.

The fireman at his head pressed the oxygen mask a little tighter
over his nose and mouth.

"He vocalizing, Roy. Seems any heat didn't get that deep."
Johnny said. "But a little epinephrine will get him pink again
faster. I'll call for it."

Gage lifted up the biophone to the fire camp's doctor and
got his medication order okayed.

Johnny gave Jerry the shot into the fat of his hip and rubbed it
in. Then he fell to monitoring the man's improvement when it came.

DeSoto crouched to pull off the rest of the man's clothes to look
for burns when he noticed a silent but very closely hugging fire captain
watching their every move. "Captain? He's fine. He's now moving air
enough to know he's uncomfortable. That's a good sign. Looks like
we don't even need that ambu." Roy smiled. Then he stuck out his
hand, taking the young fire captain's dirty one into a handshake.
"Station 51. I'm DeSoto. That's Gage."

"Mitch Reed with San Bernadino County Station 286. Thanks for
coming out so fast. Our engine doesn't have much past resuscitation
gear in the way of medical equipment. We're strictly a brush
unit."

"He won't be needing much care, Cap." Johnny affirmed as he listened 
to Jerry's chest and slowly got some words out of the groggy man. 
"I'm just seeing some light burns and blisters on his neck and shoulders.
Nothing around the mouth and nose. Looking better and better, Roy."

Beneath his hands, Jerry coughed and his co-firefighter raised his
head onto his lap and held his head still. "Hey, bronco man! Rise
and shine. Guess who's bailing our butts this time. 51's all the way
from Los Angeles County. That's from half way across the state, man.
Do you believe it?" he crowed.

Jerry actually started smiling. "Cap, do for them, o-kay. We owe em.
*choke* I'm feeling pretty alive here." and he shivered. "And c-cold.
Anyone got a blanket?"

Five of Jerry's crewmates peeled off their jackets to cocoon him
thickly.

When Jerry was safely evac'd out of the fire zone to a receiving 
hospital, Captain Mitch Reed sought out Roy and Johnny as they put all 
their squad equipment away. "Say, fellas, I'm here to make good on
a promise I made for Jerry so he'd ship outta here without starting
a riot act. Uh,,.. is there anything that I can do for you two? Arrange
meals for your crew at a local restaurant? Get you to some showers
from a grateful homeowner?"

"Nothing, Cap. Thanks. We just got here this evening and we just
ate."

"Come on, fellas. Anything. I know how scarce you paramedics are
covering for the 14,000 firefighters working this fire." said Captain
Reed.

Gage's mouth flopped open. "Fourteen ..t-thousand?"

"Yep. From as far away as Montana and Washington state. How do
you like them apples?" and the yellow helmeted man began to laugh
uproariously. "Seems you boys haven't been filled in on all the details
yet."

"No, we haven't. Just a forest jumper's general weather report." Roy frowned.

"Sorry for that. I thought you boys knew. Sixteen are dead already. Several
of them firemen. So what do you say? Name it and I'll get it for you."

Johnny's eyes thought hard for a moment and then a slow crooked smile
lit his face. "What's your pull with the chopper crews in the area?"

Roy smacked his shoulder for asking.

Reed glanced at the both of them in puzzlement. "I'm their message
courier now that we've been pulled off the fire lines for being down a
man."

"Good. Here's the favor I think you can give and it'll mean a whole lot
to us.."

Roy smacked him again.

"I mean me.." Johnny corrected. "I got this ranch, you see, in Bear Claw Canyon.."

Reed grimaced. "Ooo, you mean the one where there's only four fire stations
assigned?"

Gage looked askance at him. "Uh,..there's soon gonna be five in less than
an hour if I have any say in the matter."

"Oh, I see. You want me to divert a chopper to save your place when the
heat's on because my voice is the one in authority? Consider it done,
51. As one grateful fireman to another. We can't get gifts from those
we serve and in your case, treat, so I guess it's up to us to give to each
other in my line of thinking. And apparently in yours, too." he laughed.
"Just give the word. I'm on Tach 5, 101.8. I know that ranch. Choppers have
been going there for water the last two hours."

"Sure appreciate it, captain." said Gage, getting into the squad.

"My pleasure.." said Reed, and he waved as he walked away.

Roy had finally come to terms with Johnny's machinations and he
only shook his head ruefully. "You're a lot gutsier than I ever 
thought you could be, junior."

"How's that?" said Johnny, buckling himself in.

"First, you con the chief himself to use your ranch as a base
of operations...."

"I had water, remember? That's rare in these parts, Roy. I had
to offer an option when I knew about it. "

DeSoto didn't seem to hear him. "Then you stretch those overtaxed
resources even further by trying to pull a chopper off his route
along the fire line by taking advantage of another guy who is
still an acting superior. All captains are."

"Soo." said Gage, grinning. "He offered. I took it. No big deal."

"It is a big deal when other lives might be on the line and
needing that chopper."

"No fireman's that stupid to wait that long to get into that kind
of trouble, Roy. Doesn't our training as firefighters amount to
anything? Even if we totally lose Command frequencies, we
should be able to read this fire and deal with it as it comes and
besides, Stoker's not the only one good with numbers. I've
been doing a little calculating on a few facts myself. Even if all
those choppers and tankers flying around out there hit their mark
one hundred percent of the time, they would still only hypothetically
be able to contain only thirty percent of this fire." he said smugly.
"It's just grown too big, Roy, for air support alone to contain.
Ground crews are gonna be the key in this blazing inferno as they are for
any other forest fire. So no, I don't feel a bit guilty for grabbing a bird
crane off an effort I know will be an act of futility in itself in the end."

Roy stared at Johnny, unblinking for long seconds, in utter amazement,
until driving needed his full attention when the road back to the Main
Fire Camp curved on him. "You never cease to surprise me, Johnny.
You do think things through."

"Have I ever not done that?" asked Johnny stretching with pure
satisfaction in his seat.

"I'm claiming the fifth amendment.." Roy answered honestly.

------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------


Dixie smiled and came to meet their squad when it got back
with two very very welcome bottles of water. "Are you sure
you boys don't want some coffee? I got some chilling in a thermos
by the ice baths."

"Water's good." said Roy, gratefully draining his.

"So how did it go? I heard your voice over the doctor's
radio calling for IM epi." McCall asked.

"Piece of cake. He was practically awake and all the way
breathing by the time we got there. Nothing that a good hot
meal and a solid night's sleep won't cure." Gage said.

"That and a few bandaids." DeSoto added.

"Huh?" Gage sputtered.

"You're forgetting Jerry's spark branding."

"Oh, yeah. He had a few face, neck and shoulder blisters, Dix.
It'll be good for dragging sympathy out of his wife or girlfriend."

Roy glared at him. "Or for dragging out a good long fight for
her being reminded of his being in such a high risk job."

Johnny frowned. "You and Joanne fight about your job?"

"All the time. But my love for it wins out. Needing money
really helps my end of the argument. And her love for me 
let's me stay doing it for the price of a disagreement or two
whenever I get laid up."

"Is it worth it?" Gage asked warily.

"Every second."

Johnny continued to fix a studying cautious stare at Roy.
"I hate picking fights. I never win at em. Unless they're against
a one, fireman Chet Kelly." he grinned.

Dixie chuckled. "Say, Johnny. Do you need help at the ranch? I
ran into a Graben Jeorgg about an hour ago. Said he was
heading up there with your aunt to fetch his son and grandson."

"Is there a problem we don't know about?" Roy asked reading the
guarded expression on Dixie's face.

"Yeah, high command's practically ordered the evacuation of all
fire personnel from the mountain except for the four stationed on
your property. They're gonna try to hold onto that water supply
for as long as they can."

Johnny took off for Engine 51 at a dead run, looking for Cap.

He cajoled, pleaded, argued and begged, until Captain Stanley
hunkered over to the Command tables to get orders to report in 
earlier with their assigned task force currently stationed at the ranch.

Dixie took advantage of Roy's equally rattled state and joined them.

------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Station 51 headed down the highway. Ten minutes later, Roy screeched
to a halt when the looming ghost of a burned falling tree suddenly
fell onto the road ahead of them.

The gang got out and put on their scba masks in the heavy smoke
and stood there helplessly as they considered their options.

But right then, none other than Captain Mitch Reed melted from out
of the trees with a team of axemen. "Hang tight. Save your air.
We'll get you through." And he winked at Johnny. Not spilling the beans
at all about their chopper deal.  "If you see fresh fire from the top of
that ridge to the west, don't worry. We're firing up there to start a backburn
on the edge of that slope, hoping to keep the fire from descending into
your canyon."

"Good luck." said Hank. "Appreciate the breakout captain."

"No problem." he said and soon he had his men clearing the road.

Station 51 arrived at Johnny's ranch without any further delays.

They met up with the other four fire stations already camped out
with laid fire hoses. They were concentrating on clearing the brush
and back burning pure scorch around the buildings and horse corral.

Johnny frowned. "Graben's not here yet? The work horses are not out
of the barn it seems. The corral's still empty."

"Maybe he thought better of coming." Roy said.

"No, I'm sure he's coming. He promised Snowflake a dish of canned 
Rival when he got here." Dixie countered.

"Don't know what to tell ya, partner. Let's just see what we can do."
Roy said finally as he turned off the squad's motor at the edge
of the pond for protection.

"Ok," said Johnny nervously. The two paramedics and nurse 
got out.

Cap went to the other four captains for his situation report. Johnny
told Hank that he and Dixie were going to scope out the barn and 
release the horses to the range.

Hank nodded. "Stay on radio.." he said, lifting his. Then he fell
to listening to Station 124 with the latest. 

The lieutenant was filling in for his captain who was overseeing
yet another water drop a half mile away from the lake through
binoculars. The pond had long since been drained away 
too shallow to utilize with the Erickson air cranes. "..The hill falls 
away in front of us to the south, where the fire is coming from, rather steeply. 
We had a ridge road in front of both of our fire lines for a while. But
then we discovered that the wind's blowing very lightly out of the west. 
We've decided that we can wait until that spot fire's closer, when it's clearly 
going to burn through us before firing the ridge around the houses.  Then, in 
stages, starting to the east, we plan to fire the grassy slope in front of us. 
That way the two fires will burn towards each other using up all the bush 
fuel to black before the big line gets here."

"This is your call. I'm just a city slicker.." Stanley grinned.


The other stations were tied up om the ridge above 51 when the fire exploded
 and advanced high speed towards Johnny's ranch.

Hank couldn't believe it but when he went out and looked, the fire was on the ridge 
across the canyon from him and had already spotted about half way down the hill. 
He radioed that their last hope was that the road below would hold it until the 
backburning preventative work was done.
  
Gage had a much better view than the crews east and west of him, so he called 
and alerted them to the fire's advance. "Roy! I'm going in! Dixie stay close to me.
Go to each stall, open it and step out of the way. If they don't want to run, slap
them over the rump with a stick or something. Make sure it hurts."

"Got it.." said McCall. 

The fire increased and then some of the large dead pines next to the barn
started going off like explosives. A whole tree collapsed and tumbled
into a barn window and ignited the hay loft.

Marco shouted into his radio. "Johnny! Fire in the barn! Get out of there!"
Lopez wasn't sure that he had been heard or whether or not Gage knew
the worst had happened. Lopez quickly informed Cap and soon two
engines were relocated next to Engine 51 and hoses were directed onto
the new fire inside.

Hank shouted. "Hear from them yet?"

"No! I don't think they can hear me.." answered Marco.

As if in reply, several spooked horses darted out of the barn, narrowly
missing the firefighters.

"That'd better be all of them.." grumbled Cap. Then he jogged over
to the engine and got on the loud speaker. "Gage! Dixie! Abandon now!
Hay loft's ablaze!"

In support, Marco and another firefighter positioned their hose streams 
into the same open barn door from which the horses had fled. 

A crash of noise and a bright burst of flame from all the windows made
every firefighter dash a little closer to the barn. The loft had fallen.

"Gage! McCall!" Cap continue to shout through the loud speaker.
"Get out of there now!" His anger was fierce and almost as hot as 
the fire. Finally, he hooked fingers at Chet and Roy. "Put your masks
on and get em out. Over your shoulders screaming and kicking if you 
have to. I'll deal with Gage later. Just see that I won't."

Chet and Roy were almost entering the sparking barn when the roof
above caved in, completely engulfed in flames, and it landed 
completely blocking their way in.

Captain Stanley shouted. "Axes! West side!"

Kelly and DeSoto ran for them.

--------------------------------------------------------

Johnny Gage was in the stall with the one remaining terrified horse. 
And Dixie. He clung to her. "Keep your air mask on. There's only one
way out for us. How did the fire get here so fast?"

"A *cough* tree." gasped Dixie through her scba mask. "I saw it
fall after I chased the last horse out. It took me this long to get
back to you. I think the way out's blocked!"

"Take off your tank!" 

"What?!"

"We can't ride him weighted down by them. We'll tip off."

"What do you want me to do?" said Dixie, peeling out of
the air bottle, but not the mask.

"Breathe deep, then get on behind me. I'll help you up!" Gage said.
hyperventilating in his own mask. He threw it away and shimmeyed
up the stall wall until he was high enough to ease onto the horse's
back. 

"What makes...... you think this is ......going to work?" Dixie huffed,
breathing intentionally fast from her air mask.

"He's a cow horse. He'll do anything I tell him to do."

"Even walk through fire?" Dixie trembled as she was helped up.

"Even that. I got sugar in my pocket that he'll get afterwards."

"Sure hope he's got a sweet tooth bigger than the fire."

"Oh, he does all right. Hang on tight! Here we go!" yelled Johnny.

He shared his mask with Dixie one more time before tossing it 
to the wooden slated floor. He gathered the bay horse's reins 
and dug in his heels. The stallion jolted forward.

Dixie buried her head in Johnny's shoulder, trying not to look
as they galloped toward what appeared to be a solid wall of flames.

---------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Roy and Chet hadn't even thunked in a first bite of their fire axes
when a indignant squeal of angry horse and terrified male
and female voices, in stereo, split the air. Like Ichabod Crane,
they leaped out of the barn fire and over the burning tree trunk
in a single leap and out into the smoky twilight.

"It's the lone ranger!" Chet hooted.

"Not so alone, Chet.." Marco grinned. "He's got a girl riding
with him."

"Ok, so it's the paired ranger. Way to cut it close, Gage. Cap's gonna
cut into you the moment he sees you. Are you guys burned anywhere?"

Dixie coughed and let herself be lowered by Johnny.

"Nah." he said.

"My hair's singed." said Dixie, feeling herself over good.

"So that's what I'm smelling.." Chet quipped. "Here, let me hose
you off." he said, turning his line down to a trickle to put out the
sparks in Dixie's hair. "How's your lungs?"

"Fine. We got air right up to the mad dash."

Johnny was already off the brown stallion and checking him over.
"He's got a cut over the eye. Nothing else that's major." Then
he started to grin. "And no burns.. Here you go, boy. I'll get you
a whole box full of sugar just as soon as--"

"Gage! Just what kind of stunt do you call that?!" yelled Hank as 
he barrelled over to where they were clustered. 

Johnny made it a point to get on Marco's hose so he'd look properly busy.
He sent off the horse to the freedom of the open meadow with a choice
sharp spray to the rear and ears to cool him down. "Uh,..what stunt? 
I'm anchoring now, Cap."

Dixie planted herself between Hank's ire and the cringing paramedic.
"And we got all the horses out. There's no possible way anyone could
have predicted that tree falling so hush or I'll make you hush." she glared,
still dripping from her washdown.

Stanley grumbled into silence. "That much is true." he said at last.
"Ok, everyone. Pack up. The barn's toast. Go concentrate on protecting
the houses now."

Everyone hastened to the task. Soon all five engines were laying
water and backburning desperately around the remaining buildings.

---------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Johnny turned to Roy. "Ok. it's time I made my last stand. Wish me
luck. I'm going to be on the roof of my house, laying down tarps and
water. I'll call the chopper down from there.." he said.

Roy said. "You're nuts. That fire's too big for any of that."

"I gotta try, Roy." and with that Johnny jogged over to Cap,
to get permission to start cooling down a house roof.

He got it.

The others could just see Johnny reflected in the rising red
morning light as he stood with a hose on the roof of his bungalow
defiantly. He turned to the others when he felt them watching him
and offered an encouraging victory sign that drew tears to their eyes.

------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
Gage was still feeling pleased with himself when a child's shout
drew his attention. Then it finally registered on Johnny that he
was seeing Snowflake running high speed towards the caretaker
cottage into the direction of the sound. "Nathan?!"

Gage could see the boy, one who should have never been
there, run after the dog.  He gave a shout over his radio.
"The kid's here! They're all here! Follow him!"

The firemen all did, dragging their charged hoses after them.

Johnny moaned when he saw the boy standing in front of a doorway
of fire at the caretaker cottage's front, screaming at him. "They're 
in there! They're still in there!" shouted the boy.

The firemen were horrified when they looked into the living room
window behind the child and saw the curtains ablaze. A pine bough 
had stabbed through the glass and was starting a fast fire inside.

Roy knelt by the boy. "Who's in there exactly!"

"Auntie and my grandfather! Dad went to find you guys but he
went the wrong way towards the pond and the all the squads."
the boy cried.

"Are you sure you aren't hurt?"

"I'm ok! I'm fine!  Please help them.."

Up on the roof, Johnny heard that heart wrenching plea
plain as day. Without a thought, he lifted his HT and
called for Mitch Reed and a helicopter. Then he gave
the only drop order he could.

----------------------------------------------------------------------------


The four other station captains, busy with the protecting ring, 
pointed at Hank to lead the rescue operation.

But the fire proved too hot to enter by the front door.
Then Gage's voice yelled out a warning. "Cover!
Drop and cover! A bird's gonna load on ya right now!"

Startled, the firefighters looked up to see a huge bulk
of a fire retardant helicopter hovering overhead.

They abandoned their hoses and ran out from under the
roaring bird's prop shadow.

Then the coast guard helicopter dropped its entire load of
red retardant onto the cottage's porch which immediately
snuffed out the fire.

"How in the world did one manage to get here so fast?!"
Hank marvelled.

"Don't question fate.." said another fireman as he ran back
to re-man his hose to put out all the minor hot spots still 
remaining. 

Stoker did the same with Cap as his anchor man.

Quickly, Chet, Roy and Marco got into the living room
in air bottles and found Kehayke right away lying on the couch, 
unconscious.

Meanwhile, Johnny had slid down the ladder leaning against
his house and had come dashing in after them.

Johnny didn't know whether or not his aunt had been hit by the tree
bough but there was no time for checking anything. He hefted her 
up into his arms with Roy's help and got her outside.

Marco and Kelly went in as a team to search the rest of the
house for Graben Joergg.

Johnny lowered his aunt down to the dirt and immediately got
on her head. "She's barely breathing. Cap, you got the--"

"Right here, pal." said Hank plunking down a squad's oxygen
tank and demand valve near his shoulder. Gage dug into 
the gasping woman's mouth with a few probing fingers. 
"It's just her dentures. Must've been knocked down her throat 
when something hit her or when she fell."

The moment the false bridge was out, Kehayke started breathing
hard and soon her eyes fluttered open. "Johnny? ....Oh,..."
Then she started struggling as memory returned. "Graben!" she
shouted. 

Roy and Johnny and Cap all held her down. "Easy. We've got
people in there looking for him right now. Just take it easy."

Snowflake the dog was frantic. He was running from door to window
and back again, barking at the top of his lungs at the fire. But he
didn't try to go inside the caretaker's house.

Soon a laden Kelly made it back out the knocked down living room
fire with Marco helping him. Graben was slung over his back like
a sack of potatoes.

Kehayke sat up and started sobbing when she saw him, pushing
away the oxygen mask. 

Hank contented himself with putting a nasal cannula for her to wear 
around her face. "Kelly?"

Chet shook his head grimly but he remained gentle, lowering the
very still and badly burned old man to the ground face down. He 
gestured a few gloved fingers over his face.

::Facial burns. Too extensive for resuscitation..:: Cap thought.
::He's dead.::

It took Roy and Johnny only a few seconds to realize it, too,
and stunned, Gage asked Chet to go cover him up with a sheet.

Snowflake immediately started howling and he set his milk white
head down onto his master's stomach and mourned.

---------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

It was an hour later. 

The collective attack plan of theirs had worked. The main fire
had bypassed the area and had spared a full firestorm effect over
Johnny's ranch. But the teams did spot a fire whirl or two over
the now crusted over pond.

Kehayke was awake and ambulatory with normal vital signs.
Healthy enough, that the paramedics had to respect her refusal 
to seek further medical attention.

"I'll keep an eye on her. She's still reeling from losing Graben."
said Dixie, holding the reins of the brown cowhorse that had
gotten Johnny and herself out of the barn so fast. Kehayke simply
wept against the tired horse's face.

Johnny reluctantly left them. Carefully, he avoided the tiny clearing
in the trees where his dream house was located and he took
a short detour through them, hoping to find a place to relieve
himself in private.

He met up with a very sad man in a burnt out clearing. Johnny
recognized him as Graben's son, the little boy's father.
"I tried to tell him." the grieving man said. "I told him it was too
dangerous to come back up here. But my father said that horses
were important enough to go back for."

"I'm sorry, Mr. Jeorgg. It's a horrible thing to have happen to 
anyone. I just wish that there was more that I could have done."
Johnny said, scuffing a foot in the black ash at his feet.

"You let your house burn for Graben. I saw you redirect that
helicopter so that it would dump on the cottage instead. That
was very noble of you. My father was probably already dead by the 
time my son found all of you."

"There's no knowing.." Gage said, without looking away from his
eyes.  Not saying anything else, he gripped Darrin's shoulder in 
a heart felt move of sympathy and finally hugged him. "Graben
was a wonderful person. That horse he trained saved my life
today and got us out of a burning barn. I can think of no greater
gift than that as his final one. Your father was big on giving."

Darrin smiled as best he could and left Johnny to his thoughts.

It was a long time before Gage could summon up enough courage
to watch his house burn to the ground.

-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
Snowflake had done his duty and had located the mustangs
Johnny had been worried about all day. They were safe and
grazing quietly by the lake, totally unphased by the fire helicopters
zooming in for their measure of water to combat the main fire,
which was now moving away from Bear Claw Canyon.

Dixie was playing with Nathan and Kehayke around the brown
stallion. Roy was there too, putting silvadene on the few burns
the horse had received from flying embers, while the barn burned
down. 

The rest of the gang was watching him, while they rested with
water bottles and food. They were waiting for relief crews to
arrived to continue the hot spot and digging details in the surrounding
woods. 

Johnny couldn't resist baiting them all. "Hey guys, and especially
Dixie. Guess what this old boy's name is.." he said patting the
snoring horse standing quietly next to him.

"What is it?" asked Mike Stoker.

"It's Windy.."



FIN

Episode Twenty One-  Devil Winds

-------------------------------------------------------------

Photos:  None.

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

            
                            End Credits --  Episode Twenty  One (Third Season)
                                      
                                              §§   Devil Winds  §§

                :)  This episode is dedicated to the crews and private citizens involved in  :(
                     California's largest brush fire in history. The Cedar Fire of October
                     26th, 2003.   It was started by a hunter who didn't put out his food
                     fire properly. And we pay tribute to horse rancher Nancy Morphew, 
                     aged 51, who died attempting to flee her home in her car.                                                                                                                                          
               :)                                                                                                                               :)

@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@

The Story Unfolds...

Season Three, Episode Twenty Two..
 
 §§   In Certain Terms   §§
 
Debut Launch: June 1st, 2005. 

**************************************************
From: "rampartbase" <rampartbase@yahoo.com> 
Date: Sat Jun 4, 2005  7:18 pm 
Subject: Trying again, rampart base. 
 

Kel was looking forward to his vacation. The last couple times,
things hadn't worked out. Something either got in the way of his
going or work interrupted it. He was feeling a bit burned out and
needed to get away for a few days.

---------------------------------------------------------

Photos:  None. 

***********************************************
From: "Cory Anda" <andacory@hotmail.com> 
Date: Mon Jun 6, 2005  3:06 pm 
Subject: The Deep Heat... 


Dr. Brackett sighed as he closed the medical reference text he
had been reading on his desk in the office with an impatient thud
and he rubbed his eyes in immense fatigue. ::Maybe I can get by
with just eating something. Dix's already been on me for that since
two o'clock.:: he thought. He studied his watch. ::ohmyg*d. It's five
p.m. already?::

Kel picked up the phone and dialed her desk again.

Dixie McCall looked up from the patient chart she was working on
when the olive phone next to her started ringing. "Rampart Emergency.
This is Miss McCall." she said.

##Hey, Dix.##

"So, Kel. So are you going to stop slamming books around long enough
to take me up on my offer to buy me my long overdue lunch? We can trade 
why-I-need-a-vacation-right-now stories over a pair of burnt cheeseburgers." 
said the nurse with a frown into the phone receiver.

Unconsciously, Kel quickly glanced down at the Merck's Manual he had just
abused and slowly loosened his tight gripping fingers from the book's cover.
Then he caught himself and began to smile. "So, are you tapped into the
security camera in here?"

"No. There isn't a monitor wired by me. Besides, anything that goes on in
your office lately is something I don't really wanna know about firsthand. 
I'm hearing enough about your frustrations from all my nurses that you've 
been so thoroughly berating this week, letting off some steam." said Dixie 
in a huff.

"They can handle it. Doctors are supposed to be authoritative whenever
stupid mistakes happen. It's part of doing my job."

"Not when it effects mine and makes my life miserable..." fired back Dixie
in a confidential hiss so no one else working near her could overhear.

"Sorry, Dix. I guess I have been overreacting a bit. The air conditioning's not
working in here again and I've had a lot to handle lately."

"A lot of what? You're down only one doctor today with Joe touring the fire stations
to get feedback from the medics about how they like that new rescue squad program
idea of yours. Remember that he went out into the field on your orders. Perhaps 
you should have been the one to go digging for that desired feedback in 
his place." Dix said.

"Nah," Kel said controlling his voice to be milder than a slow sizzle. 
"It was proper that he be the one. Besides, with the rate of cardiacs flooding
in here because of the heat this week, I have to stay available for all the 
angioplastys and surgeries they seem to be needing." Kel sighed. "Joe's 
been doing them for a month straight. I'm spelling him as a favor because 
he's been getting a little grumpy."

Dixie let out a little strained laugh.
"And you haven't been?! I'll let you in on a little secret. You've overtaken
Dr. Morton these days as being the worst in the bedside and deskside manner 
department in the latest buzz through the house grapevine." sighed Dixie saucily. 
"Kel, I lost two trainee nurses because of another bout of your temper this morning. 
And I don't think they'll be coming back. Just what am I supposed to do now?"

Kel remained silent.

Dixie decided to end the angry pause pronto.
"It's definitely too late for you to apologize to them and almost impossible
to soothe the ruffled feathers on me so the least you can do is humor me by 
buying me a solid hot, steaming lunch! It'll be a break for you and cathartic for 
me to not yell at you anymore. I'm done with that right now! Deal?" 

Dr. Brackett shifted in his chair uncomfortably when he remembered belatedly the
tears he had seen in two pairs of eyes when one of the newer student nurses had 
knocked a Betadine basin off of his sterile tray during a suturing repair. The dark 
yellow antimicrobial had spilled onto the floor and all over his hundred and fifty
dollar pair of Swiss made leather shoes and endangered the patient by
making Brackett jump with his hemostat held suture needle and thread that 
had been still attached deeply to skin. "I guess." he snapped reluctantly.

"No, don't guess. Just open your wallet. I promise to leave MY frustrations
behind at my desk. You do the same at yours. See you at our usual cafeteria 
table under our favorite birdless palm tree in five minutes. Oh, and by the way,...
I've got a surprise for you I think you're gonna like."

Click!

Dr. Brackett actually flinched at the sound of the terminating line because he 
was still so wound up. 

He hung up the dial tone humming dead phone and lay his head back down
onto his sweating hands. "I hate surprises. Especially when it's not my birthday..." 
he grumbled, staring into the fish tank and at the catfish that had once bitten him. 
"What are you looking at?" he snapped.

The silver catfish, of course, didn't reply.

-------------------------------------------------------------------

Photo:  Dixie, mad.

Photo: Dixie placating a flustered student nurse.

Photo:  Dixie surrounded by a cluster of nurses.

Photo:  Brackett regretting past behavior in his office.

Photo:  Dix and Kel fauning over his new office fish tank.

Photo: Dix and Kel sitting in the hospital cafeteria, eating. 

**************************************************
From :  patti keiper <pattik1@hotmail.com> 
Sent :  Sunday, June 12, 2005 5:13 PM 
Subject :  Finger licking good.. Chief boot licking, too.  


Johnny Gage and Roy DeSoto were in the locker room,
hastily changing out of shower towels as fast as they could
manage. The fire that they had just wrapped up was already
a far distant memory.

Roy leaned forward, standing over the wooden bench, propped up on 
top of it with a still soggy bare foot while he struggled to put on
a midnight colored uniform sock, until his face was inches away
from his equally awkward hurrying partner. He wobbled in place
fighting over the glue of water to don it. His dripping back crashed 
against his locker door as he almost fell in his tremendous haste.
"Are you sure? I mean is Cap sure? Ohmyg*d. He'll be here in five
minutes?" he stage whispered over Hank's shouted panicky orders
echoing through the vehicle bay.

"Yeah." grunted Gage as a stubborn damp T-shirt didn't make it
completely over his head. "He got the triple ring with nobody on
the line himself from Station Eight's on the captain's pager. 
McConnike's beelining for our station as ....we ....speak!" Johnny 
squeaked keeping his voice down desperately. He cracked in genuine 
fear. "You know the new secret code we got set up with the other stations 
about snap inspections. Don't you remember Dwyer setting up this system 
so everyone wouldn't haveta suffer an unpleasant surprise by the chief 
sneaking in? The first fire house falling under seige from even the barest 
glimpse of a creeping battalion car onto property, agrees..." he hissed.

Roy interrupted him citing the mantra. "....to give warning 
amply ahead of time for the rest of us.." he hissed.
"I know. I know. Just keep an ear out for Henry's bark from the couch!
He's already guarding the doors, listening for a Chevy idle big time."

Johnny was skinny and won his battle between wet skin and dry clothes.
He was way ahead of Roy, but cursed when he snapped a shoelace 
while hurrying mightly. "ShhHHHT!" he yelled aloud and immediately
covered his mouth to stifle it. Far too late.

Hank's voice boomed out from the garage. "I don't wanna hear a single
solitary peep from in there if you know what's good for you! Shut up, twits!
And get those clothes on, A.S.A.P. ! I don't wanna hear talking or I promise 
I'll deliver on my threat to give out tower details for the rest of your working
careers!"

Johnny and Roy both ducked into cringing curls, dressing even faster
than before, comically stumbling and rushing to get into shape in spite of
their damp skins. Gage reached behind his poster for an emergency roll 
of black electrical tape. He bit off a large piece and started wrapping his foot
snugly with his all expert paramedic long board taping skills, to hold 
his still loose shoe onto his foot.

Roy's eyes goggled as his fingers flew to button up his shirt. "Nice idea.."
he said in awe.

"Dwyer's too. He said the chief never lifts pants cuffs to check higher than
the toes for polish shines."

Then the two of them ran for the doorway. They corked in the doorjam, shoulder
to shoulder for long seconds until they unpretzel-ed themselves and ran
for the hat locker next to the squad.

Stoker was hastily scrubbing the Ward's front fender chrome with licked fingers 
and his butt, like a back scratching bear.

Hank noticed. "Forget that! The chief'll smell the fire smoke. He'll know that
we just got back from an alarm call. Get in line!" he gestured sharply at
the invisible one before the rest of the gathering gang's toes perpendicular 
to the county wall map. "And don't scuff the floor running over here! He'll see!"

Chet whistled and drew out a small dark blue bottle from his pocket. "After
shave! Spritz down, everybody! Dwyer says this trick works, too!"

The bottle was passed like a hot potato from hand to hand as it was used
then hidden snugly again in Chet's shirt pocket.

To their credit, the firemen didn't struggle with finding their different sized dress
uniform hats. They had long surmounted that little problem by using spare 
accountability tags neatly tucked into their inside crown seams. They had a whole
thirty seconds before Henry's muffled wuff from the kitchen's depths announced
the firing gun going off.

The gang quickly combed wash wrinkled fingers through their hair and inspected each 
other rapidly for the slightest deviations. Cap barely corrected the crooked
angle on the wall clock with a pinky before they all snapped to straight attention at the
sound of the side kitchen door squealing open.

Hank mumbled from the corner of his mouth. "Nice touch not remembering to D-W 40 the
hinges..." he said in admiration to Stoker on his left. 

"Figured overlooking that would be just minor points off for the maximum benefit.."
Mike replied through the corner of his.

Henry preceeded Chief McConnike, energetically seeking the chief's hands actively
for some attention as he had been secretly trained to do by Chet. This allowed
everyone to compose their inspection stressed faces into fascimiles of social smiles.

McConnike was oblivious to the dog delay ploy. He wholeheartedly greeted 51's
hound dog as only a fire station dog lover could. "Heya boy! I'm glad to see you, too,
big fella! How'ya doing? These boys feedin ya too much again? Well I'll fix that." he
chuckled, patting the snuffing, drooling Henry's ribs affectionately.
And then he looked up. 

The chief immediately blinked when he saw the silently straight backed, impeccably 
positioned firemen standing in a row, already in front of the fire trucks before him.
He knew he didn't need to draw out a ruler to measure the spacing between them
because everything was absolutely....perfect.

He eyed the bay, sniffed the air for fire smoke to dismiss the fire trucks currently
sooty conditions. And then approached Hank as was customary. But he couldn't
hide the shock of his sudden appearance failing to surprise his current inspection
targets. "Hank. Gentlemen. What's with all this?" he said, throwing a careless hand
to the air between them.

Cap cooly replied. "What, sir? Welcome to Station 51, chief, uh, sir. I hope you find
everything in its proper order." he said with barely reined in smugness. 

McConnike narrowed his eyes suspiciously, but one glance at the receiving alcove
mic panel showed that it hadn't been used for recent intra-station communication.
At all. 

"The sink's dripping in there." the chief said finally, while the gang's eyes twinkled
secretly as his puzzlement grew at their lack of nervousness.

"Stoker. Go fix that." Hank said neutrally.

"Immediately, sir.." said Mike neatly saluting. He and Henry beelined for the kitchen
in formation. Stoker coughed a smoke cough to hide his opening the fridge to reward
Henry with a piece of bacon for delaying the chief's entry. Then he tightened up
the water faucet and returned to his place in the inspection line. 

Henry retreated to his dog house to chew his savory mouthful. 

The gang stood quietly composed while the chief walked rings slowly around the
squad and engine, casually opening gear doors to check their inner contents,
without further comment. His eyes widened when he saw hose couplings, neatly
strung on tarp ties, organized by size in the engine's cab along the back equipment
hooks in between the hanging scba tanks. "Who's idea is this?"

Sheepishly, Marco Lopez raised his hand. "Mine, sir.. Do you like it?"

"Yeah, can I borrow it to ply onto other stations? I can write it in as new protocol."

"Feel free..." the hispanic firefighter replied. He was nudged with a shoe from Chet
to wipe the cheshire's grin off his face. Kelly's eyes said it all. ::Tone it down and
we'll survive..::

"Thanks, crewman." said the chief.  He slowly opened up the squad's doors to 
peer at all the medical gear on the driver's side. "Where's the defib been moved
to?"

Gage piped up, sniffing hastily. "Uh, on the passenger side, chief. Upper left
compartment. We found that a squad rider can grab it and the resuscitator more 
quickly than if the driver does it. Saves about fifteen seconds since a passenger
doesn't have to put anything into park before he does it, ....sir." he added.

"Can I use that idea, too?"

"Certainly.." Roy said, with perfect timing.

McConnike merely grunted. Then he slowly shook his head in the barest grudging 
admiration for what he was seeing around him. "Congratulations, gentlemen." He said
with an expansive sigh. "You're the first firehouse this quarter to have five or less 
points taken off on one of my infamous pop inhouse checks." 

Hank smiled broadly, but then started to frown, and broke his eyes away from
the far wall where they had been staring. "Wait a minute, chief, uh, sir. A dripping 
sink's only three points/demerits. Where'd the other two come from?"

The chief grinned, and pointed. "From the Ward. She's parked partially blocking
the doorway leading to the bunk room. That'll slow how you guys'll pile in here by
a few seconds if you all try to squeeze through one by one, getting by her, to 
answer a call."

"Stoker...." Cap said again..

Mike anticipated. "..Fix that. Yep. I'm on it." said the engineer. And he smartly
about faced once more to correct the error. Then he returned back into line
and McConnike held them all there, still at attention, while he gave their uniforms
a good eyeing over. 

McConnike noticed the waft of aftershave with surprise, but then he nodded in 
satisfaction. "Yeah. Wearing scent'll be good for calming female victims
down. Nice thought, fellas. Can I borrow--" he asked. 

All the gang murmured hasty acquiesences for that idea as the ones for
the nozzles' order and the defibrillator's store shift and then they
froze back into ramrod places.

A minute dragged by and Gage ate a drip of sweat when the chief's eye swept
over his shoes.

Hank cleared his throat finally with the barest sign of strain. 

And that, satisfied the chief's perpetual appetite to make his favorite captain
remember his burning hat sin yet again.

"I'm through. At ease. Who's making the chow today, guys?" he said, dropping
the officienado stance. "I'm starving."

Five sets of index fingers stabbed to the right. "Stoker." came the reply in
stereo.

"Fine. Fine. Hope it's fried chicken for lunch."

"Of course." Mike grumbled in amusement. "Nothing but the best for a busy
fire season."

"Don't rub it in.." Cap mouthed to him behind McConnike's back.

Stoker immediately amended. "Uh, I'm trying to recreate the batter from
a fast food place."

"Oh?" cheeped the chief. "Which one?"

"It's from a new joint called ah, uh...Colonel Sander's .." Stoker stretched.

"Tennessee Fried Chicken." Lopez supplied eagerly to help him out.

Stoker couldn't summon up the courage to correct him on the proper
state's name of the brand new restaurant.

"Hmm, guess the missus and I'll have to try that one out." smiled
the chief. 

Kelly piped in, while gathering up the hats into their customary box and heading
for the mop closet. "You can't miss it, sir. It's on Laredo and San Bernadino
Blvd in Torrance. A victorian guy looking like Mark Twain's on the sign
and the building's got diagonal red and white stripes on it around the roofing."

"I'll remember it. Thanks." And they all filed into the kitchen.

While they were eating, McConnike struck up unusual casual conversation.
"Fellas. Have you heard of the fireman's contest I'm starting up next month yet?"

Everyone admitted their negation.

"Well, the prize is a whole year of no spot inspections to the firehouse I vote
as the winning entry." the chief grinned.

"Really.." said Hank, perking in interest as he chewed a drumstick hungrily.
"What kind of contest?"

"Equipment re-designing. Game, fellas?"

"Sure am. Uh, we are.." Cap said quickly.

"And we'll win it, too, chief. Just for you.." Chet muttered out loud.
Stage whispering to Stoker, he added. "Because you gave us
such good marks this time around on our records."

Mike flashed him a warning silent hush with a greasy finger.


But McConnike had been thinking too much about filling his 
stomach to overhear that remark. "Fine, I'll send the details over by courier from 
the head office as soon as I get back. I think I'm gonna go make a hit on 
station th-- uh, down yonder next." and he rose in his chair, wiping his 
mouth with his paper napkin. He was, of course, the first to empty his plate.  
Decades of experience had made McConnike a veteran food vacuum 
at which the others could only admire. 

They hastily rose in their chairs, too, as the chief took his leave of them.

Chuckling, the chief picked up two drumsticks from Stoker's platter. 
"Might tasty, Mr. Stoker. When you declare this recipe as fitting
identical to that chicken stand, I'd love a copy of it."

"It'll be yours." promised the engineer.

"Good. I like new chow recipes to hand out at all my firehouses as much
as I like to collect organizational ideas during one of my inspections. Keep
up the good work, 51." he said, tossing one of the chicken pieces to the
couch where Henry's head suddenly emerged from the leather cushions
to neatly intercept it.

And with that, he was gone.

The kitchen door had barely closed behind him when the gang piled
against the window, to watch him pull away in the chief's car down 
the side drive to the avenue beyond.

"Left! He turned left!" Chet piped up excitedly.

"Doesn't help us." said Roy. "That still leaves either station thirteen or
thirty as his next target."

"No problem." said Gage. "We'll just warn them both with Dwyer's ringing--"

"Marco, get it done from the office. Gage use the payphone to save time."
Hank ordered, still watching out the window through the peep blinds.

"With my dime?!" Johnny protested.

"You certainly aren't going to use mine..." Cap snapped. "Now, hush
and think of the service you're doing for your fellow firefighters. Eight's
certainly done it for us. Now move."

"Moving, Cap." Gage grumbled, making for the phone. But then he
about faced. "Hey guys. I just had a horrible thought."

"What's that?" Chet asked, diving into his plate of chicken again
and licking all of his fingers like he couldn't do in front of the chief.

"What if McConnike's onto us with the ring warn network? He could've
slipped us that station's number of his planned route on purpose.
After all, he's been in the fire service long enough to know all the tricks."

That stopped everybody chewing. But then Marco scoffed with a laugh.
"What's he gonna do? Have Vince begin tracing fire station phone lines?
That's illegal. Besides, nobody's even doing any talking when we're warning
each other. Just the rings and the hangup after three."

"Still, he could trace that as having come from one firehouse to another."
Gage surmised.

"No chance in h*ll, Johnny. Our scheme's flawless for a change. Anyone
could say they were calling up a station when their own got called out
on a run, interrupting business." Kelly explained.

Gage hung onto the phone receiver and bobbed it against his chin. 
"Yeah.. never thought of that."

"Gage!"

"Cap?"

"Call. Thirteen's is only four minutes from here!" Hank growled,
eating from his center breast without looking up from his meal.

"Uh, right. Right." And Gage gave out the warning to one of the two
stations that might be next under the chief's pop inspection gun.
After he made his call, he frowned again, the devil's own
advocate. "Guys. What if the chief never shows up at either station?
Would the other fellas who had to rush butt to get into order 
remember that it was us who tipped them off falsely? They might
take that as a malicious joke and get their revenge by not
warning us about the chief's knocking on doors next time around."

That, put the others back into worry mode faster than hose water
on fire flames. 

But then, L.A. was merciful and delivered them from troubled
thoughts instantly. **Eee Ohh OOOoooooo.** issued the chrome 
holed speaker.  ##Station 51. Unknown type medical. 412 south 
Davis St. 412 south Davis street. Cross street Melton. 
Time out : 13:55. ##

Johnny beat the others to the response mic. "Station 51, 10-4. 
KMG 365." Snick. And then he said, unnecessarily. "Let's roll
guys."

Soon, the kitchen lay abandoned as they leaped for
the trucks. And the lounging dog noticed exactly what 
things had been forgotten that would really make his day a
happy one.

In spite of his short stature and great bulk, Henry used some 
brainy gray cells that he had only used once before with his
human companions and a certain missing plate of food. 

He bit into a chair leg, and tugged until its wooden seat was 
exposed. Then he leaped up with an eager moan onto the table 
top, sniffing like a blood hound.

He found the one quarter full, still steaming chicken platter in two seconds 
and started gnawing happily with bright full fledged tail wags. ::Guess my 
reward for the day just got a little bigger. :: the dog thought. ::Stupid firemen. 
They're so gullible.::

Henry burped as he ate. 

And Station 51 hit their sirens liberally as they responded to their 
assigned rescue in the immediate nearby neighborhood.

---------------------------------------------------------------

Photo:  Roy and Gage in a sharp whispering argument, locker room.

Photo :  Gage and DeSoto in a door jam pileup shoulder to shoulder.

Photo:  Stoker serving chicken to the table. 

Photo:  Chief McConnike shaking Cap's hand in the bay.

Photo:  Henry chewing on a bone inside his doghouse on the couch.

Photo:  Stoker's view of the squad's rear from the engine cab, driving.

**********************************************************************
From: "Champagne Scott" <chameleonkate@hotmail.com> 
Date: Mon Jun 20, 2005  7:20 pm 
Subject: The Sad High..  
     

Station 51 pulled up at the edge of the cliffside homes ringing the La Conchita 
neighborhood. The surrounding hillside was covered with a dense carpet of 
coastal sage shrub and some scattered trees, so thick that Johnny noticed.
"It's sure green out here. This area in a fog zone?"

"Yeah, the ocean's a mile that way." Roy replied, pointing downward
where all the roads were converging. "Builds a rain effect."

Cap flipped off the sirens when he, too, spotted the correct house address.

Hurrying, the gang helped Roy and Johnny gather their complete set of treatment
gear and they all clustered around the front door. Cap rapped sharply on the peach
colored doorface. "Los Angeles County Fire Department! Can anyone hear me?"

There was no reply.

"Chet. Marco." ordered Hank. "Check the back. Mike, let's check in all the windows."

The firemen separated, leaving the medical equipment at the paramedics' sides.

Right about then, Vince Howard showed up, pulling up quickly in his squad car.

"What's the call, Vince?" Cap asked the helmeted policeman as he alternately
peeked into every window he found while shouting his station's identity. 
The yard rang with their loud shouts of attention aimed at whoever was inside.
 
The stocky city cop said, "The neighbor next door said that he heard a woman 
screaming that she felt like she was going to die and to go get help. He couldn't 
find a way to get in here himself."

"Is there more than one person living here?" Roy asked him as he kept on looking
for a way into the house. "We're not seeing signs of any smoke."

"Yeah, a girl aged 25." Vince replied."According to the neighbor.
She lives alone."

Right then, a piercing, wrenching wail of agony jolted through a bush
heavily shrouding a veranda window in the backyard facing the clifftop.
 
It made Vince instinctively draw out his gun. "It sounds like she's getting
attacked." he said plastering to the side of the house. "Be careful fellas.
I'll cover you."
  
"Hey!! FIre Department! We're trying to get to ya!" yelled Johnny as he pushed 
through the bush to get a better look past the sun shadowed glass. "Keep making
noi--!"

The screams cut off abruptly.

"I can't tell which room she's in.." Johnny grunted as he tried once again
to futilely open the window. "I can't see anything in here."

"Cap! Nothing's open! Everything's locked down real tight." Chet shouted
as he and Marco returned at a jog.

"Then we'll have to break in..." Hank decided. "Intruder or no intruder, Vince.
That's not something we can just ignore." he said, jerking a thumb at the
bush and at the total silence curdling their blood.

"Front door." Vince nodded. "Use your helmet on a side pane." he said at last.

"Thank you.." Roy sighed urgently, stepping quickly back to the small front
porch. "Stoker.. grab the resuscitator." he said and he pulled off his helmet and
used it like a piston to crack one of the two windows surrounding the front door.

Once the frame was swiped clear of shards with a jacket halligan, he reached around
carefully under Vince's watchful eye and gunpoint and tried feeling around where
a deadbolt lock would be.

"Fire Department! Hey! Are you ok?!" Gage shouted through the opening. "Got it?"
he asked.

"No, there's more locks on this door than Fort Knox.." DeSoto said in exasperation.
"I can't reach them all."

"Then battering it down isn't going to do any good. John, don't even try. You'll
wreck your shoulder.." Cap said when Gage looked like he was hunching up. 
"Stoker. Grab the K-12, will you pal?" he ordered.

Mike Stoker ran to get it.

The firemen and cop were highly disturbed by the lack of response 
from the woman they now knew was in serious trouble. It reflected in their haste
as they split the door and its hinges and drew it away with many gloves.

Vince went inside first. "Let me check it out first." he said, keeping his loaded
revolver aimed up at the ceiling with cocked elbows. "Once I sweep a room,
then you can look for her. Not a moment sooner."

Gage ansed with the defib and drug box on the porch. He still had on his
helmet and the strap dangled in his face. "We got it. Just go.." he hurried Vince 
along with an encouraging pat on the shoulder.

There was no disturbed furniture in the living room. But a tang of rotten food
and garbage stung their noses. Room by room, Vince cleared the way for
the gang. Then he holstered his weapon. "House's clear. Nobody else is
around. Go ahead with your searching. She may be scared and hiding." Then
he raised his voice. "Diane Hart! This is the police department. It's ok, you're
completely safe. Nobody but me and the fire department are here! Come on out!"

The men paused briefly for a reply from the girl. None came. 
Cap split them up. "Try the closets, shower and laundry rooms." he suggested. 
"And the floor. Maybe it's like Vince said, and she just blacked out somewhere 
in an odd place."

Each firefighter took a room and started opening doors. "Diane?! Los
Angeles County Fire Department and Police. It's ok, we're here to help you!"
Hank yelled.

In one bedroom, Gage slapped Vince on the arm, pointing to the desk top.

A spoon and packet of powder lay in the open by a spent syringe.
Using his gloved fingers, the cop picked up a corner. "Yep. I see it. Narcotics. 
All of this is making more sense now. She's probably a junkie on a bad trip.
This spoon's still warm." he said, touching the scooped metal with the skin on
his inner wrist.

"Diane?" Johnny shouted loudly. "Listen to me. We're not gonna hurt you
at all. We just wanna talk to you. Look, a neighbor called us because he was real
concerned about how you were doing today.. Can you hear me? Where are you?"
He pulled open a linen closet and stopped short when he saw a shoe with the rest
of someone it in, in the row of neatly spaced empty ones beneath the hanging clothes.

"Roy! Hank! In here." Vince shouted.

Gingerly, Gage parted the clothes and spotted a frightened eye peering up
at him. "She's awake and sitting on this hamper." And he reached inside to
grasp her hand.

Screams and flailing arms and panicked kicks greeted his touch and he leaped
back as the whole rack of clothes tumbled down over the struggling girl.

"Easy.. Easy.. Diane.. Cut that out. We're here to help you! Now tell us what's wrong.
Don't struggle and I'll pull this stuff off of ya. Now I'm a paramedic and this is 
Vince, a policeman. We're not gonna hurt you, hon. We wanna help ya." Johnny
said.

The kicking ceased and the wild eyed girl let the fireman free her face and mouth
from the mound of clothes. She was deep in paranoia and unable to talk.

Thinking ahead of time, Gage didn't free her arms and legs right away. He
gingerly got out a penlight and showed it shining down onto his own palm as
he spoke, moving slowly closer to her. "This is just a light from my pocket. 
I just wanna check your eyes out. It's ok."

Diane flinched and pulled away, sinking deeper into the tangle of hanging 
clothes piled around her. 

Gage froze in place.  "Sorry, Diane. Easy. Listen, I won't touch ya if you don't 
want me to, I'll just look from here." and he aimed the beam from a foot away,
at her eyes.

Diane started sobbing, but she never stopped watching Gage's hands warily.

"Grossly miotic, Roy. It's heroin or cocaine for sure." he said over his shoulder.

DeSoto started setting up the biophone and oxygen equipment onto the messy bed.
"She diaphoretic yet?"

"Yeah." Johnny replied, still not moving. He swept his light a little lower and found
signs of many many track marks on both her arms. The freshest still had a needle
and plunger sticking out of it. "Roy, she's free basing it."

He fluttered a few fingers in a distracting move in front of Diane's face while his
other hand quickly jerked out the syringe buried in her arm. He held it up to the light 
in a quick check. "Lotsa residue. This is a ten mil. And all of it's gone." He tossed it
onto a dresser top so no one could get stuck by it. The familiar sound startled Diane and
she suddenly flew up out of the heavy pile of clothing and got past Johnny.

"Diane! No!" Gage shouted. Diane started to fight with what seemed like super human
strength when Roy grabbed her. "Get her on the floor where we can control her!"

Vince swept out the girl's legs with one of his own but she didn't go down.

Hart screamed inhumanly and actually tore free from DeSoto's grip. Johnny,
Stoker and Chet added their weight and pinned her back against the side
of the bed with their shoulders. Diane kicked out and her left foot connected with
a heavy dresser. The ankle snapped loudly and angulated, broken.

For one hideous moment, Diane froze in their grips, falling silent at the choking jolt
shooting from a fresh source of agony. Then she started screaming decibels.

"Grab that leg! Or she'll open it up!" Gage shouted, avoiding her raking fingernails 
as he and Roy hung onto her wrists to protect themselves. It took Marco laying across 
her pelvis sideways, to finally drive her onto her back and onto the carpeting.

Vince worked Diane's arms over her chest and held both her wrists in a hand 
lock and he crossed her elbows slowly over her neck. "I got her. Roy, Johnny. 
You can let go now."

Roy scrambled clear of the tangle for the biophone,.  "Cap. Hold that foot down 
by her knee. We'll splint it later." he said over her terrified screams and gasps.

Hank sat on top of Diane's knee.

Johnny leaped for the drug box and grabbed out a narcan pack and began setting
it up as fast as he could. He passed off the medication to Cap to hold while Roy 
got a blood pressure cuff on around the gang's tight gripping forms. Diane was beyond
reasoning and nothing she uttered was anything resembling coherent words,
so the gang stopped talking. They just clung tightly, trying to keep Diane's
head and limbs protected from her own drug overdosed, crazed struggling.

"Johnny.. Getting a BP of 174 over P. Her pulse is 160 and weak. I'm finding it by apical 
only." he reported, yelling. "She's now bleeding from the nose and from a deep cut 
on her sc--"

Diane started vomiting up half chewed sour food and her conscious attempts to 
kick and hit shuddered into huge, wracking, unconscious convulsions. Her eyes 
rolled up into her head.

Vince and the others quickly let go of the girl and Chet and Stoker rolled Diane
over to get it all out by quickly sweeping her nose and mouth with their gloved fingers.

Cap reached up and dragged the resuscitator over for the suction wand tubing.
"Here! It's on." he said, handing it over so they could use it.

Diane sagged into motionless unconsciousness as the firemen worked to
clear her throat so she could breathe again.

But Diane didn't even try when they were done. Stoker found a lack of a
pulse in her neck. "I'm getting no pulse, Johnny. Just stopped."

"Start CPR as soon as you've got her airway clear." Gage said 
quietly grabbing for the defibrillator so he could power it up.

Roy stepped up the pace on his call to the hospital.
"Rampart Base, how do you read?" He dug out his clothes shears
from his hip holster and tapped Marco on the knee with them. Lopez
snatched them up and got Diane out of her soaked sweater top and sport 
bra as fast as he could. 

The wool was barely parted out of the way when Kelly began aggressive CPR
on her. Stoker took over her blood dampened head and started using the 
demand valve to give the girl full, active ventilations on 100% pure oxygen.

"I've got good chest rise.." Chet confirmed, when it was time for delivered 
breaths a fraction of a minute later.

Roy let go of Diane's neck. "And I've been getting a pulse 
with compressions. Keep them fast and even while I get the ET ready.
Stoker, don't skimp on her. Get up to a rate around thirty."

"Vince.." Gage said. "Get a good look at the stuff on the table. Is
it heroin for sure?"

"Yeah. Fraid so. I pegged it by the smell. How's she doing?"

"She missed a vein and got an artery instead. That's where
I found that needle. She literally fried herself. Doesn't look good." Johnny 
said, gelling up the paddles. "Ok, Chet. I'm set. Wipe her dry with her shirt."

Kelly hastened to get the dripping sweat off of her chest as fast as he
could. "Ok.. I'm done."

Johnny laid the two handgrip electrodes on Diane and confirmed
the lack of a viable beat scrolling on the screen. "V-fib confirmed." 
He moved his thumbs to the shock triggers. "Everybody clear?"

Everyone was and Gage pushed the paddles down firmly with
the countershock as he pressed the buttons derisively to activate one.

Diane Hart lifted off the floor and jumped.
 
Johnny let the defib sensors connect with her skin again afterwards 
to see what the monitor showed as a response to the shock. "Nothing.. 
Guys start up on her again while we're waiting for the recharge."

Kelly and Stoker did.

"Roy, stir them up over there sometime soon." he said of the still 
as yet unanswered radio transmission. "She's not capturing
in the slightest. Now shocking times two.." He warned everybody
and again Diane's torso jolted upwards under the paddles.

Johnny studied the manual readouts for long moments. "No conversion.
Still coarse V-Fib." 

"I.C. epinephrine?" Stoker asked Gage.

"As soon as we can get it. The doc may order narcan by tube first
'cause we have to cut down on her high before we can use any other 
stim med on her." he answered.
 
DeSoto got through his abbreviated report to Dr. Morton a half minute
later "...second time to no effect. Police confirmed heroin use. Self 
administered arterially. Guessing around ten mils free based. Previously
fighting enough to break her left ankle."

Roy could hear Morton letting go a sigh of great sympathy over the phone line.
## 51, intubate her endotracheally after one more minute of CPR. Give her 
0.8 mgs Narcan with a 10cc bolus of ringers lactate with normal saline
by ET. Then countershock once again. Give me a strip as soon as
possible. I'll order cardiac meds once I see how this works. Use
caution if you restore a normal sinus rhythm. She may regain complete
consciousness quickly on you and injure herself on the breathing tube 
by struggling again.## 

"10-4. 0.8 milligrams Naloxone ET and countershock with EKG strip.
Stand by.."

Johnny prepared the narcan bolus by connecting two air evacuated
syringe halves together. He held the injector in between his teeth
as he applied the heart monitor pads they would need to send
Diane's telemetry to Dr. Morton. Hank hooked up the wires while
Stoker, Roy and Chet got Diane airway secured and drug antidote
treated. "Stop CPR a sec." he ordered his two crewmates 
when he saw Roy was waiting with a tooth blade guide.

"I've got cords.." DeSoto said using the laryngoscope. He threaded
down the thick milk colored airway until he was sure it was in the right
place. Then he nodded. 

Stoker shot two slow ventilations through the tube while Roy listened carefully 
with his stethoscope in a couple of places to hear lung sounds. 
Not yet satisfied, he pulled up on the tube an inch to get rid of some dead 
sound over the right side of Diane's chest. Breaths soon entered well after 
that and Gage quickly followed up with the Narcan injection down the tube. 
Roy listened as it trickled completely into her lungs. "Ok, Mike. Hyperventilate 
her. Chet, keep going. Give CPR until Johnny's ready to shock her."

Kelly relocated a careful landmark for his gloves and started up again.

Johnny waited until the medication had absorbed. Then he cleared
everyone and defibrillated firmly for the third time.

The green indicator shot up on the datascope and wavered for long
moments from the broad leaping electrical effect but then the tracer
slipped into a horizontal level unremarkably.

"Flatline..." Gage said.

Roy got on the phone. "Flatline post narcan, Rampart. Sending you
a strip on lead two.."

Chet Kelly grunted as he worked. "Marco, on fifteen, switch with me. 
My gloves are getting too slippery on this stuff." he said of the defib 
gel and the debris that he had wiped from between her lips.

"Ok.." And Lopez knelt over Diane, too. "I'll scrub her off during the next
vent cycle and I'll take over."

Mike Morton studied the monitor intently. The cardiac signs looked clearly 
mortibound. ##51, Give 1 mg. epinephrine I.C. followed up with one amp sodium
bicarb by Normal Saline I.V. but only if a venipuncture's successful. Countershock 
one more time. If we still don't get a recapture, continue CPR. After one minute,
administer another Narcan to airway bolus of 1 mg, then transport as 
soon as possible. Don't waste time with that fracture on scene. Immobilize 
and treat any other trauma she might have sustained from fighting, en route.##

Roy repeated his orders to the doctor.

##10-4, 51. What's the ETA on your ambulance?##

The siren outside slowed and fell away as it died. "They're here right now, 
Rampart.." replied Roy.

Johnny quickly got out the long needled syringe of epinephrine and prepared it.
Gage stabbed it home into Diane's left ventricle after calling for a cessation 
in CPR so he could deliver it safely to her heart without harming himself or
anyone else.

Then he defibrillated the girl for the fourth time. Diane jerked but her
heart didn't begin beating afterwards.

DeSoto reported in. "No recapture, Rampart."

##I confirm, 51. Switch to an oyxgenated ambu after your second Narcan 
dose. Get her in here as fast as you can.## Morton said gently. ##We'll
see what more we can do once she's in.##

"10-4, doc. I estimate our ETA in nine minutes." Roy sighed.
 
Captain Stanley and Chet began packaging up all the medical gear. Kelly
had plastic bagged his gloves up and he wore the bundle hanging from a turnout
snap out of the way for later cleaning. He handed Stoker one for his soiled pair 
when Roy final took over Diane's ventilations on a bag valve mask.

The ambulance attendants quickly loaded up Diane, leaving her bare
from the waist up for unimpeded continued CPR. Lopez stood on
the bottom rail of her gurney to work on her nonstop 
while they wheeled Diane out to the driveway.

Cap jerked a head at Kelly. "Take the squad in after them." he
ordered. "Radio me if they have to make a stop for further care."

"Right, Cap." said Chet.

An ambulance attendant and Gage took over for Roy and Lopez's
tasks once they reached the waiting Mayfair.

Stoker and Hank hefted a second O2 tank and regulator from
the engine for the paramedics to use for the trip along with
the squad gear boxes, and the defibrillator case.

They slapped the back of the rig twice in a signal once
they had sealed up the hatch latches of the ambulance
doors after Roy and Johnny got settled around Diane.

They returned to the house and began to clean the 
bedroom free of all the papers and plastic wrappers from the medications
that had been used on Diane. They were careful to not disturb
much else in the room, knowing that it was now a crime scene.

"Are you going to come with us in case she makes a turn around 
recovery in transit?" Cap asked Vince. "She may have a few interesting
things to say about where she got her dope."

"Nah, I'm going to stick around here for the backup I just called to
case out the house. Who knows how much drug money or heroin's lying 
around." he said. "With that front door in shreds, somebody's
got to watch the place until the DEA muscles in."

"Suit yourself. I'll make sure Roy and Johnny make a statement, if
she does come to, for you to check out later."

"Appreciate it, Hank."

"Anytime. See ya.." Cap waved wearily. "Come on, Stoker, Lopez. 
Let's go home."

"I think we watched a woman die on us in there, Mike." Lopez said to
Stoker once Cap had left them to go climb back into the Ward.
They heard him say the station was still unavailable for another
hour, until Diane's follow up run was over.

"I think you're right, Marco. She was probably dead the moment
she started screaming for help from that bedroom closet." Stoker
whispered sadly.

--------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Photo:  A K-12 saw on the ground.

Photo:  A frightened woman in a dark closet. 

Photo:  A woman struggling with Roy and Johnny.

Photo:  Vince and ambulances attendants loading
             a woman on a gurney with Cap nearby.

Photo:  Roy on the biophone in a bedroom, close- sad.

Photo:  Flatline on an EKG monitor.

Photo:  Johnny preparing a narcan bolus.

Photo:  A closeup of a narcan med bottle.

************************************************************************************
From: Cassidy Meyers <killashandraRey@hotmail.com> 
Date: Wed Jun 22, 2005  10:14 pm 
Subject: Alone.. 


Al the ambulance attendant heard the slam of the Mayfair's rear doors
and immediately, he flipped on the sirens and checked for his clearance
before slowly pulling away from the street's curbside. "Is she intubated
already?" he asked Roy, who was nearest his peep window. "Just 
disturbin ya to see if there's a chance we'll need to stop along the way.
Dispatch wants to know."

DeSoto didn't look up from the compressions Johnny was delivering
to the young junkie nor did they stray off the EKG monitor turned to
face him in the captain's chair. "She's as set as she's gonna get.
But try your best to avoid the bumps. This's gonna be a long CPR and 
we all gotta last until we reach Rampart." he said of Johnny, Al's partner, 
and himself.

"You got it." said Al. "I'll go a way that's big and easy. Along Santa Monica
Boulevard. It'll be faster than the freeway this time of day that's for sure."

And the window snicked shut between them.

Johnny was already drenched in sweat maintaining the rhythm. He grunted, 
fighting to keep his depth correct despite the jolting the Mayfair's travel was 
giving him where he stood over the stretcher and the girl's chest.

"Roy, you going again?" asked Flint, the other ambulance attendant.  
"Morton didn't tell us not to try and zap her back."

"You ......read....between.....the......lines.......pretty......good." gasped Gage.
"Ever thought of.....joining the para....paramedic.....program?  Give her some.
That's fifteen again." he reminded the bigger man.

Flint bagged Diane twice on the oxygen even as he pulled her lips back
to check for any sign of fluid or material working its way back into her mouth.
"Nah,..don't have the brain for all those medical calculations and I.V. ratios. Guess
I'm too old a dog to learn new tricks." said the salty haired man.

DeSoto punched the defib button once again, calling it out himself so Johnny
could concentrate on pacing himself and keep on breathing without getting light
headed from his exertions. "Charging.. One, two, three, four... Clear?"

Gage sat back onto the cushioned bench, keeping his hands well away from
the gurney frame. "We're clear." 

Roy shocked full charge, making it the fifth of the run. Flint began rebagging while
they waited for the outcome on the screen. The lit needle danced high and
settled into course V-Fib.

"Well, that's an improvement.." Gage said, resuming CPR. "Least her heart's getting
irritable again." he said breathing hard. "Flint, take over..I'll trade with ya. Roy's
gotta stay free to try and get in an I.V. line on her somewhere." He shifted
places and Flint swept Gage's hands away and set his down without missing a beat.

Johnny was sopping wet and he turned the air on in the ambulance full blast until
it blew on all three of them. "Found any veins yet, Roy? The epinephrine's done
all that it's gonna do until we get her blood neutralized a little better."

DeSoto spoke from around a needle cover set in his teeth. "Yeah, goin' for a jugular
stick. Seems she's been too chicken to shoot up there. Just about everywhere else
has been scarred too badly to use."

Carefully, Johnny turned the young woman's face away from Roy's knee until the side
of her throat was exposed at the proper angle without jeopardizing the endotracheal
airway's alignment any. He bagged unconsciously with his left hand, while his right
wiped off his face on a sleeve. Gage checked the positioning of the broken ankle. 
It had fallen off the bed on loading. He shifted it back into place by grabbing some 
pant leg as a sling and he flipped it up until it lay alongside the other foot. 

Roy called for Flint to halt his compressions while he attempted the deep neck 
vein that was still flat from lack of circulation. His long years of experience paid 
off and rewarded him with a feeble flashback. "Ok, got it." he said, planting two 
fingers over the catheter as he withdrew the needle. He let the blood run out 
freely until he was able to snap the normal saline I.V. line into its hub and tape it 
off tightly. He used a soft cervical collar to safeguard the site and a second one 
underneath her shoulders to keep Diane's head tilted back enough to not kink 
the tube in her jugular vein. "Bicarb's going in.." he announced. "Johnny, how 
long since her last Narcan dose?"

"Two minutes, twenty seconds."

"I got her next one right here." he said, He bit the cover on its fluid needle off.
And then he handed it over to Gage, from its niche in a fold of her bloody pillow
where he had placed it earlier. "ET'll be faster still. I'll check to see if she's aspirated
any after this is in."

Flint pinwheeled at a sharp turn and caught himself on the wall to avoid injuring Diane.
"Whoa! Take it easy up there, Al! I almost broke a few ribs here.." he snarled.

"Sorry, something's holding up traffic. I had ta slam on the brakes big time."
came his partner Al's muffled reply from the front. 

Flint shook his head in frustration and quickly started up compressions again,
stamping his foot on the floor to rid himself of a cramp twisted up his back.

Gage noticed, "Wanna trade off?"

"No, you're still giving out them meds. I'll call it when she's been defibbed twice
more." said the older man.

"We could be at the hospital by then.." reasoned Roy.

"Fine by me. I'm still fresh. This girl's only our first call of the day, so use me
to your best advantage fellas, while you can." Flint said levelly. Despite of his
best care, another dip in the road made his finger laced hands slip downward
too deep and a rib snapped audibly along Diane's breastbone. "Sorry, hon." 
he said automatically, without looking up. "Damn streets. You'd think the city would
remember us ambulance people come legislation day and budget in even more
than the usual meager repair funds. They don't realize how much pain we cause 
folks by running over the bad spots. There adds at least two more days in the 
hospital for you, dear thing. I am trying to be careful." he told his patient.

Gage and Roy didn't pay any attention to Flint's venting. They were deep
in lung assessments and listening to the biophone for more orders.

"Rampart, bicarb's in. Still no vital signs. Request permission for atropine."
Roy asked.

Morton countered immediately. ##Go ahead, 51. One milligram IVP every three 
to five minutes to a total of .04 mgs per cubic kilogram. Give her another 
countershock afterwards. That narcan loading should start to do something 
for you real soon if it hasn't already. Our success of defibrillation's gonna 
decrease dramatically with the passage of time if she continues her
ischemic slide downwards. The progressive imbalance in her myocardial oxygen 
supply and demand will kill her in less than ten minutes if we don't see
some positive progress soon.  I want to see a live rate in two, 51. You've got
nothing better to do now since you've already countered all the heroin in her 
blood. Pick it up, boys. Use 0.5 milligrams epi this time I.V. along with the atropine
or we're gonna lose her before you hit the freeway.##

"10-4, Rampart. 1.0 mg atropine piggybacked with 0.5 mg epi, both IVP." Roy said
quickly. He was just as determined as the audibly frustrated Morton to save the
young woman. He couldn't push a thought away from the back of his mind.
::What if it was the pile of clothes falling on her that pushed the heroin plunger 
down too deep and not Diane herself? Then all of this mess is actually accidental 
and not the usual desperate druggie's attempted suicide, if that's the case.
She'll fight hard to come back even if we give her just one more chance to make it.:: 

The Mayfair was only crawling now, at less than twenty miles an hour.

Gage snapped. "What's the hold up?!" he shouted to the front.

Al said, "Traffic jam. The ramp's a parking lot, Johnny. I don't know
why the cars are like this. Dispatch said there's nothing going on
up ahead."

Flint frowned and a drop of sweat rolled off his nose and landed on
the back of his hands. "That's strange." he said, keeping up his CPR until
the paramedics were set to defibrillate Diane again. "It's nowhere near
rush hour."

Roy looked up out of the window from where he sat timing the wide
open I.Vs drops when he saw the road sign that bore his namesake flash
by. Only it wasn't the comforting inside joke it normally was for all of them
seeing the avenue bearing his last name. For the mountains behind it,
were gone.

"Holy---" DeSoto exclaimed, almost dropping the paddles he was
re-gelling.

"Roy? What's wrong? Go ahead and get her again. It's charged to four."
Gage said sharply. "Keep it together. Take care of her, and then tell me."

Roy framed the sticky paddles once more, and fired them off.

Diane frighteningly re-animated as soon as her heart started pulsing again
following Roy's shock, and she continued where she had left off, falling
right back into the superhuman mode that had so scared all of them in the 
house. Her violent gyrations to fight and spit out her airway, threatened the 
very gurney straps that held her down onto the bed.

DeSoto shouted as both Flint and he threw themselves on
top of Diane to pin her down. She choked and air popped loudly around 
the endotrach tube in her throat, as there was no possible way for
her to talk being tubed as she was. "Pull over!" Roy ordered.

Al did so.

Gage drew out his HT to Chet. "Chet! She's fighting! Get in here!"

But the rear doors didn't snatch open like Johnny wanted them to.

There was a long pause of dead air over the walkie talkie.
Then came Kelly's voice. ##Oh mother of g*d. Johnny! Roy! The whole
mountain's come down up ahead in La Conchita! The whole friggin'
hillside!##

"Roy, what's he talking about? Diane! Diane!! If you can hear me, don't
pull out this tube! It'll damage your voice box! We'll numb ya up just hang
on a second. Diane? Do you understand me?" said Johnny.

Diane went on struggling, oblivious to her surroundings. And her eyes
never tracked nor focused on anybody's face.

"Brain damage?" Flint asked as he got her arms back down at her sides.
To calm her, he covered her completely with a light sheet up to the neck.
"It's ok, it's all right. We're taking ya to the hospital to get that junk outta
your system, hon."

Diane's severe agitation didn't ease in the slightest. In fact, it was growing
worse. The three men soon found that they weren't able to hold her at all.

Until Kelly finally got the urgency of Johnny's message about their patient
and tugged the Mayfair's doors open. Swiftly, he used his turnout jacket as an 
improvised reverse straight jacket and used its snaps to cocoon Diane's 
writhing body under the railings by fastening each fastener around the bars 
like a world war II canvas stretcher. 

Johnny was freed up to hold Diane's head firmly around the C-collar Roy 
had applied earlier to protect the girl's I.V. "Who gave you that idea?
It's working, Chet! Roy.." 

"Yeah, I know.. Get her sedation order.." DeSoto gasped, sweeping sweat
soaked hair out of his eyes.

Morton beat him to the punch. ##51, I'm getting no cardiac signal anymore 
from your end. I'm gonna guess that she's now combative. Treat her
agitation with chlorpromazine, 25 mg I.V.##

Before the paramedics could move, Diane jerked her hands up and yanked,
with both sets of fingers, at her loosely taped mouth piece. A flood of bright 
blood fountained up as her unthinking reaction caused the inflated balloon 
at the base of the endotracheal tube to tear away the soft structures on the
inside of her throat. Hart gagged and vomited weakly as her pressure
suddenly plummeted and her eyes rolled up to their white undersides.

The heartbeat still registering on the monitor slowed from its racing tach
into a vagal reflex brady rate of thirty. Diane went limp.

Kelly yelled in fear and fluttered to unhook his jacket from around the girl
as the others rolled her sideways to drain out the gushing flood of fresh 
blood.

Roy listened to Diane's chest with a fast ear.  
"The tube's completely obstructed! Get it out!"

Gage rapidly deflated the ET and drew it free to suction out Diane's 
blood filled windpipe."D*mmit! She must be a long time user. It took only the 
three Narcan doses to put her into waking withdrawal. She ripped herself 
up even before we could even think of sedating her.:" he said angrily. "Flint?"

"She's not breathing anymore." the attendant reported from where he rested 
Diane's stomach across his chest where he knelt, using his body to keep
her tipped onto her side.

Gage got out an antibite ring to hold Diane's teeth apart, then he used
just the ambu to drive some badly needed oxygen back into her lungs
without moving her position. But soon, Diane began to gurgle from all 
the blood that was bleeding out of her ruined throat and it flowed 
too rapidly for the suction wand to pull away despite of Roy and 
Johnny's best efforts to clear it.

The heartbeat on the monitor started speeding up into rapid v-tach
as profound shock set in. Gage dug a hand into her carotid. "Pulseless
ventricular rhythm. Flint, let her go. We gotta--"

"I heard.  I'm on it yesterday.." the attendant sighed sadly and
he resumed active CPR once more over the girl's bruised breastbone.

"I was afraid of this kind of thing happening. She must've taken the 
entire mixed ten mg's I thought I saw her take." said Johnny. "Now, she's 
bleeding to death for her troubles."

Roy replugged in the EKG monitor feed that had been disconnected
from the biophone in all the struggling. He handed Johnny a short oropharyngeal
airway for him to insert once he felt he could stop suctioning Diane in 
between bagged breaths. "Dr. Morton. Our victim went into acute withdrawal 
syndrome up to consciousness. But we've lost her airway. Damage is severe. 
I am estimating around six hundred cc's blood loss. Now ceased due to a 
return to an acute cardiac arrested condition.  We're reading a pulseless 
ventricular tachycardia. "

## I confirm, 51. Continue the best you can. Stop all medications and maintain
the patient's circulation and breathing manually. I'll see you in a few minutes.##

Roy and Johnny felt their world suddenly contract around them.

"Uh,, negative, Rampart. There's been a massive landslide a few blocks away
from what we can see. All routes leading to you are most likely blocked off."
Roy reported.

There was a dead silence from the other end of the phone line. "51, re-route to
another hospital then. Who's closest from your current position?"

"Rampart, we're in a gridlock. There's too many panicking people out here."
said DeSoto as he peered out the side window of the ambulance. "I don't
think we'll be able to go anywhere fast, anytime soon, doc."

A fierce pounding startled him when a hand slapped his window
and drew open the door at the back. It was a bystander, from one of the many
blocked in automobiles now surrounding them. "Hey, guys! There's a lot
of hurt people just ahead. A mudflow's covering the road. We're clearing
a path for ya!" said the construction worker. "Come on!"

"Look, mister! We can't." Johnny started to say. "We already got a p--"

But the man had already swung the doors shut in their faces. They saw
him waving animatedly through the back windows for them to follow 
behind him as he ran towards the wall of gray dust rising above them.

The Mayfair was shoved sideways from an unexpected jolt from the left.
A giant fist of earth and rock rolled over them. 

It soon blocked out the sun, plunging the Mayfair and its suddenly
overwhelming CPR plight, into semi-darkness.

--------------------------------------------------------------------

Photo:  A cloud of dust over a DeSoto Ave sign over the freeway.

Photo:  Al the ambulance driver, looking back in fear.

Photo:  Roy falling inside an ambulance away from an
             intubated patient.

Photo:  Johnny ventilating a victim receiving CPR in a rig.

Photo:  A mountain landslide in La Conchita, eating a road.

Photo: That same slide, swallowing roads from the hilltop.

*******************************************************************
From: "Roxy Dee" <laterrapincabesa@hotmail.com> 
Date: Thu Jun 23, 2005  10:22 am 
Subject: It's Not Nice To Mess With Mother Nature~~ 


Al began shouting, "Everybody out! This is a rock fall! Not mud! Grab what
you can!" cried the ambulance driver and he rushed to the back of the Mayfair.

Chet Kelly paused only for a moment at the sight of huge boulders rolling down
the coastal road from the mountain. Any one of them could've crushed a bus without
stopping. He ran for the squad to move it closer. "Get her on! Then climb aboard."
he shouted. "We're getting outta here!"

Johnny and Roy grabbed the squad gear, throwing tanks and cases on top of Diane's
gurney in between her strapped legs. Flint hesitated. "What's he talking about?" 
as he kept up CPR. 

"We're evacuating before the next wave of debris hits us. Something else's giving way
on that hillside out there!" Gage coughed. He snatched a spare french 6.0 from 
the supply rack and jammed it under Diane's pillow for later reinsertion for her new
airway. He hefted up the engine's oxygen supply and they got out of there.

The five of them got Diane lifted onto the top of the squad, stretcher and all,
that nestled into the air bottle gap storage firmly. Chet fled in the squad then, carrying 
them, using the route the excited witness that told them about. Behind them in the
mirrors, he saw the Mayfair get swept off the road by a twenty ton boulder
that tumbled down noisily from the nearby slide a few seconds after they
had started moving.

Soon, Chet parked on a section of ground he knew was stable. "There's
no pistol butt trees here. See? None of these trees are warping yet.
I'm stopping!" he shouted to those clinging on top of the squad.

Diane was lifted from the squad in between CPR sets, and the entire group headed
for a grassy slope that was undisturbed by substrate shifting. They placed her, 
head side downhill, while they worked to keep her going, so her lungs would
drain out even more.

Roy stood long enough to get his bearings and call for their nearest help over his HT. 
"Squad 51 to Engine 51! Do you read me?" His mind was still reeling with
disbelief at the moving chaos flowing around their island of calm earth.

##This is Captain Stanley, HT 51. What's your situation?##

"Mudslide in La Conchita has destroyed our ambulance. We've no injuries.
We need backup CPR assistance. Other casualties are being reported in 
our immediate area. Uh,..From what I can see, your best approach will be 
from the beach access road until you reach the edge of town. We're on the 
south side near the water tower, with the squad." he said to ease Cap's worries 
about another vehicle loss. "This slide's huge. I see at least, a dozen homes 
disintegrating."

##10-4, S	quad 51. We've just received word from L.A. about La Conchita. 
Hang tight, pal. We're on the way.## said Hank.

Chet smiled when he heard the airhorn blast briefly over the channel. "Remind me
to hug Stoker when all this is over, Roy."

"You're gonna haveta get in line, Chet, after us.." said Gage. "Flint, need a 
switch out yet?" he said giving Diane another easy breath on the ambu.

"I'm good for a while yet." the man said. "Now what? You've lost your antennae link
when the Mayfair disappeared. That biophone won't work very well in this
low spot of ours."

Roy checked over the defibrillator to read its power level for if and when they 
decided to try and use it again on Diane. "We'll improvise." he said, without smiling.
"Joe Early has been preparing us for just this kind of communication isolating
circumstances." he said, rechecking the flow of I.V. fluid to Diane. He rehooked 
up the EKG pads that had fallen off in the commotion. "We've recently been given broader 
decision making powers with a new brainstorm project of Dr. Brackett's."

"What kind of brainstorming?" asked Chet, using the suction wand to help Johnny 
work his vents a little better.

"We've new procedures being put into place. They're called standing orders. 
They're doctor's instructions given out in advance to fit specific medical findings 
in any given situation so we won't always be tied to the phone for confirmations
and permissions. Johnny and I were going to drill on them this afternoon with Dr. 
Early to make sure we had them committed to memory all right. Now we're here."
Roy explained.

"So we don't need the biophone any more?" Al asked, taking off Diane's sock
to begin splinting the broken foot as best he could with a piece of wood he
had found.

"Not now. It's dead.  We need just additional help to care for anyone ELSE we 
find in trouble. We got our engine coming. And she's just three minutes or so 
behind us." Gage nodded.

"How can you tell that? I didn't hear you get a time estimation.." frowned Al.

"The airhorn blew three times over the transmission. It's Stoker's way to tell us
an ETA when somebody else's talking over the HT. Something we set up a
while ago." Kelly smiled.

Kelly knelt down by Diane's side. "Johnny. What do you want me to do? I
got the O2 tank ya got out with ya cracked and set on wait. But that's the last
suction reservoir. Sorry. Didn't think we'd need more than the one on her."

"Be Flint's trade when he says he's tired. Roy and I have to work out something."
Gage replied, nodding.

Kelly nodded and got busy.

Johnny watched Roy drag the drugbox closer to their knees. He squeezed the
ambu bag a little faster without realizing it. "Roy, you're not doing it."

"Doing what? I'm just getting out another roll of gauze for when we reintubate her."
DeSoto said. But his fingers brushed over a bretylium syringe briefly.

"We can't use any more medication on her. Morton's live order supercedes any
of Brackett's standing ones." Gage reasoned. "I think....." he frowned.

Roy glared at his partner. "You of all people should know me, I'm like Craig Brice, 
I usually follow the book to the letter, only second best to him. But consider where 
we are, Johnny. If we find even one unconscious breathing victim from the slide,
we'll have to abandon Diane here in favor of their better chances for survival. 
We're on triage ground now."

Gage blanched at that, glancing down at Diane's still beautiful face. "I know that.
I thought we'd have more time to--"

"I know. I thought that, too. But look at the monitor, Johnny. She's asystole again.
And with pulmonary artifact this time from all the blood in her lungs. She's so
full of rales I'd be surprised if any oxygen is reaching her at all anymore. Her pupils are
blown and unresponsive. Even in this sunlight. We have to make a decision about her 
and hope that Dr. Brackett's experimental protocol is concrete enough to save our butts 
afterwards. Before we are officially locked down by fire department triage orders. 
Now are you with me or not?" DeSoto said, licking his lips. "Make a choice now 'cause 
I see a whole lot of people coming our way and some of those being carried,
aren't moving at all."

Gage looked up, startled. And saw that it was true. Patients were coming to them
from the disaster site, zeroing in on the only help they could see, the red flashing squad.
"Bretylium, ok, drawing up 5 cc's for IVP. Roy, she IS dead already but we've three
other witnesses attesting to the second flatline and we've the paper strip as our 
bargaining chip to go ahead with another attempt. Let's do it.. If we're gonna get
fired and jailed, I can think of no better cell mate to have, than you. Chet! Hit the defib 
recharge, we're trying again!" 

"Ok, Johnny. I'll re-gel the paddles for ya." Chet replied.

DeSoto prepared the D5W I.V. that they would need and he tried very hard
to stop his hands from shaking. 

--------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Cap Stanley and Marco and Stoker raced the Ward up from the beachhead along
the same street where they could see the red dot of Squad 51 in the distance. She
was parked hastily angled on the only road not jumbled forty feet high with debris.

She came trailing hose for the hydrants that were sticking out of the ground abundantly 
all aroundJohnny, Roy and the others. Hank stepped out of the cab to give Battalion
the short and thorough of what he was seeing in the neighborhood. "Battalion One. Engine
51 is on scene. I'm estimating a slide a quarter of a mile wide. It has spilled over a row of 
houses half a block long. No fire is in evidence but we're setting up in anticipation of gas 
leaks. We're 10-6 with 51's casualties on the corner of...... Topanga Canyon Drive and
Rocky Peak Road."


##10-4, Engine 51. Sending a helicopter evac to your location as soon as one's available.
Keep me posted.##

Cap Stanley knelt down by his paramedics where they were working over Diane.
"Is the squad damaged much? She's awfully dusty."

"No.." replied Chet. "But that Mayfair may be leaking some. We watched it get carried
off the road twenty five yards that way by a river of mud." Kelly said jerking his head so
he could keep going on his CPR.

"That won't be a problem for now. Being buried means no air will be around to ignite 
anything. I'm satisfied. What do you need here?" He saw that the paddles had
been used twice more on the strip growing by the foot off the monitor. But
the indicator still showed no signs of electrical activity.

At his question, Roy and Johnny's body language, fell subtly. "A tarp to cover her."
said Roy quietly.

"What?!" said Chet. "You guys just can't quit on her like this.. Don't you need a doctor's
order to pronounce somebody?" he hissed, still working hard to keep on
circulating Diane's blood.

Gage ignored him. "Cap, Roy and I have another victim right there." he said, pointing to
a pale boy looking like a cardiac case stretched on the ground on the other side of Diane's
stretcher. He was breathing but the manual read from the paddles showed him to
be throwing off what even Cap recognized as multiple PVC's.

Cap was no nonsense. "Are you absolutely sure of this, you two?" His unspoken 
statement questioning the basis for their rational hung silent on the dusty air.

Johnny was grateful that he didn't ask anything sensitive out loud. He knew Cap
knew about the experimental protocols newly put into place by Brackett as he had 
been the one to field the phone call from Joe Early asking for a date to set for 
testing Roy and Johnny out on them. "Yeah. We've done all that we can do for her. 
She's max'd out on limits for all the drugs we're allowed to give anyone in her 
situation. He comes first now." Roy said, not looking at Hank directly.

Kelly started protesting. "Captain, no! That's stupid! I'm not needed yet. And neither 
are these two.." he said of Al and Flint. "Let us work her until we can't anymore. We 
owe Diane at least that much more. I'm sure her family would appreciate it in the 
long run.." he glared at Roy and Johnny. "Who knows? She may come back again."

Cap sighed in exasperation. "Kelly!  I can't let y--- " But then he saw the fresh haunted 
look of weighty stress dragging down his two paramedics, and he relented. "..ok, but 
the three of ya are through the second another unconscious makes it over here. I'm 
sorry but she's gonna have to be lifted off of that gurney so they can change the 
sheets and get it set for the little boy. A triage station's setting up down the block and we're 
gonna need the stretcher to get him there. I'm saving all our stokes for future
victims we may have to dig outta this mess later on." he pointed out sharply. 
"You got that tank of O2 only, and that's it, Kelly."

"Enough for me, Cap. We'll be under that tree and my HT will be on." he promised.

Diane's head was stretched out on the soft earth for only a couple of moments
when Chet jerked his hands off of her chest and started screaming. Flint and Al
likewise leaped up and began peeling their clothes off rapidly. "AhHHH! Sh**t!"

Hank ran to them. "What's wrong?!"

Chet writhed on the ground, rolling. "Fire ants. Aww, man.. Get em off! Get em off!!
AhhhhHHH! I'm burning from their stings or something!"

Cap dragged Chet clear of the large pile of dirt that Diane had been inadvertantly
set upon and he immediately called for a fire hose to spray the three men 
down to get rid of the attacking ants as fast as possible. From his new angle he could 
see the warning shape of an ant nest that hadn't been clearly obvious until just then. 
He was horrified anew right along with Chet. "I'm sorry, pal. Stay still. We'll get em 
off in a minute. Looks like your turnout kept most of them off. Marco's washing 
down the ambulance attendants. No. Don't move until I'm done getting you 
soaked down. Don't worry about them. Let me get you taken care of first. Marco's 
covering them. Hold still now. Any get under your clothes?"

Chet sputtered under the water stream. "No...they just got my hands and arms and a few
crawled into my hair. Sh*t these hurt like the son of a mother. Ugh! Cap, as soon as I'm 
done we can get back there an--" he broke off, seeing the thick carpet of red feathery 
ants now swarming over and stinging the body of Diane Hart. His horror shattered 
into nausea and he looked away. "Oh, my G*d. Cap..." he sobbed.

"Come away, pal. There's nothing else we can do. If we spray around, getting her
off that mound, that whole colony will come out and attack all of us, including them..." 
he said pointing to where Roy and Johnny were working hard to save their second victim.
"And we can't allow that. I'm sorry it had to happen like this. Believe me, no one's more
sorry than I am right now."

"Cap, isn't she more important? We had her first.."

"Shh.. pay attention to me. Don't look at Diane. Stoker's covering her up. We're through. 
Now refresh my memory.. Are you allergic to bee stings? Fire ants are in the bee family 
if I remember my first aid training right." Cap said. His eyes swept over the many
raised white pustules coming out thickly on Chet's hands and arms and at the red
flushed color rising around them.

"Uh,,, I .. d-- I can't think straight right now." Chet gasped, still hunched in a ball of pain.
"I think they're still trying to bite me!"

"I got em all off. Let's just get you to a dry spot." ::And away from Diane Hart's body.::

Cap led him away from the puddle of water which was drowning the ants that had
been washed off Kelly's skin. Kelly let himself be supported and sat back down
as soon as he hit the curbside. His legs wouldn't allow him to stand for any longer.

"Chet, you're shivering. Take my jacket." Hank said peeling his off and giving it
to him. "I'll have Johnny or Roy come over and give you a once over on vitals as
soon as that cardiac's stabilized. You sure you can breathe ok? Is your throat 
getting tight any?"

Chet's was, but not from any ant venom. It was from soul pain, and that, he knew, 
would remain with him, for many many days. He answered Cap by coughing wetly 
and with a small wheeze. He started crying and gasping uncontrollably, in his grief.

"Easy, Chet. Just relax. I'll have someone over here for you just as soon as I can.
Marco! How are they?" he shouted, asking about the ambulance 
attendants, who were down to their boxers and t-shirts, standing soaked underneath
wrapped blankets.

"They're fine. Shaken, but they're not stung as bad as Chet. They're refusing to
see anyone for further care. They only got a couple of stings each." Lopez replied.

"Understood." Hank counted a quick pulse in Chet's neck as he sat next to him. Kelly
didn't even seem to notice his touch. " Marco. Come stay with Chet for a while and keep 
him company." Cap ordered."I have to get going on the landslide."

"Right, Cap."

As Marco went by, Hank grabbed his arm. "He's busted up over losing the drug victim.
He got symptoms but I don't think he's anaphylactic. But go get the O2 if you feel he's 
getting shocky past this mild stuff. Keep tabs on his consciousness level."

Lopez gave a look of sympathy for the dead woman and he crossed himself and said 
a fervent prayer for her. "I will, Cap. I won't let him stay sick like that without treatment."

Marco went to be a friend for his shattered co-worker for a few minutes 
and before he knew it, something else called him away.
 
-----------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Photo:  Boulder rolled onto the road.

Photo:  A fireant mound.

Photo:  Stung hands.

Photo: Fire ant sting whealed arms.

Photo:  Chet falling in pain in turnout and helmet.

Photo:  Roy getting out of an ambulance in a hurry.

Photo:  Cap peering at something in brush turnout.

Photo:  Roy and Johnny treating a kid on a hillside.

**************************************************
From: "Derrick" <rescueman1962@...> 
Date: Fri Jun 24, 2005  1:24 am 
Subject: In Certain Terms : It's Not Nice To Mess With Mother Nature .  

 
" Marco , Marco ! " Gage yelled .

The boy had slipped into v-fib as Johnny and Roy were working on him
and they needed and extra hand to help with ventilations as Johnny
and Roy started CPR and defibrillation .

::Oh God now what ? Not the boy !:: Marco thought to himself before
he went up the hill to help care for the boy who was now slipping
away from Johnny and Roy's hands .

" Waddya need ?! " Marco shouted back .

" Get up here . Take control of his airway. He's in v-fib ! " shouted
Gage .

" All right . " Marco shouted ." Stay right there, Chet , I'll be right back . " 
Marco said to his pal .

" Just get back here . " replied Chet .

" Cap! Gage and DeSoto need my help with the boy. He's getting
worse . " Marco said to Captain Stanley as he passed by him on his
way to help Johnny and Roy .

" All right. Go . I will keep an eye on Chet when I can." Hank replied .

Marco charged up the hill and took over ventilations from Roy . Roy
went to use his HT and he called into Dr. Brackett  through L.A.'s
frequency in an emergency patch.

Roy : "Rampart base , County 51" .

Dr . Brackett : ##Go ahead, 51 , this is Rampart .## 

Roy : " Patient update , 10 year old male in respiratory distress
due to an asthma attack . We have placed him on high flow O2 at 15
liters per pediatric non-rebreather mask and have given him 1:1,000
epinephrine SQ . As we were attempting I.V . D5/W , patient went
into v-fib . We do have CPR in progress and we're attempting to
defibrillate at 60 joules . We will be preparing to intubate . Any
further instructions ? "

Dr . Brackett : ##51 , go ahead and intubate and continue
resuscitative efforts . Administer 3ccs 1: 10,000 Epinephrine I.V. If
he does not respond from the three initial shocks . Go ahead and
administer 60mgs 2% Lidocaine I.V. Defibrillate 30 to 60 seconds
after each dose . Contact us if anything changes . ##

Roy : "Copy Rampart , intubate and continue CPR followed by 3ccs
1:10,000 epi I.V. If unresponsive, give 60mgs 2% Lidocaine I.V. and
keep you posted . "

Dr . Brackett : ##10-4 , 51. ## 

" Okay , charging 20 , 40 , 60 , CLEAR ! " Roy said .

The defibrillator delivers a shock to the boy's heart as his small
body jerks from the jolt of energy . Marco Lopez checks for a
carotid pulse and tells the two paramedics , " No breathing , no
pulse , continue CPR ."

Johnny starts compressions again as Marco ventilates with the ambu
bag . He notices the oropharyngeal airway in place as Roy hurriedly
assembles the equipment necessary to facilitate intubation . He
orders Marco to start hyperventilating the patient as he prepares
and lubricates an endotracheal tube . Marco removes the
oropharyngeal airway as Roy inserts a laryngoscope blade to
visualize the vocal cords but he sees a very serious problem .

"Oh sh*t." , exclaimed Roy . Marco and Johnny quickly glance up at
Roy, not stopping their work as he continues , " His trachea is
swelling shut and we may have to trach him . I bet he has pulmonary
edema as well . "

" Well , ..we are not gonna lose this boy ! " . Johnny said as he
signaled to switch places with Marco .

Roy gets back on the biophone/HT patch with Rampart to advise 
them of their new findings .

Roy : " Rampart , County 51.."

This time Dr . Joe Early answers the call on the second base
station console as he had just completed a difficult cardiac case
with Squad 14 .

Dr . Early : ## Go ahead, 51 .##

Roy : " Rampart , we have attempted to intubate and cannot due to
tracheal edema . We are suspecting a development of possible
pulmonary edema as well . We have defibrillated once with no
conversion and have an I.V. D5/W established . We have not given 
any meds yet . "

Dr . Early : ## 51 , give 60 mgs Solu-Medrol I.V. and keep us
advised of any changes . Continue orders from Dr. Brackett. ##

Roy : " Copy. 60mgs Solu-Medrol and keep you advised " .

Dr. Early : ##10-4 , 51 ## .

Johnny and Marco continue CPR on the boy as Roy prepares to
administer the drug . He shoots it up the I.V. line and hopes that
the swelling will subside soon so they will not have to end up
having to do a trach .

Roy decides to defibrillate again after two minutes have went by
since the last shock . Roy says, " Charging , 20, 40, 60,80 , 100,
120 , CLEAR ! "

Marco and Johnny get clear of the patient as another shock is
delivered to attempt to convert the life-threatening arrythmia . 

All of the sudden, Captain Stanley calls to Johnny and Roy on their HT,
that two more squads have arrived with three engines as help in
their area . ##Squad 51 , HT 51.##

" Squad 51 " . Johnny replied .

##We have more help arriving here, shortly . It will be Squads 36 and
45 , Engines 127 , 236 , and 18  . ETA... about 5 minutes . ##

"Squad 51 , 10-4. " Gage replied . " Still no ambulances, Cap ?"

##Negative.## Captain Stanley replied . ##No helicopters either.##

"No breathing , no pulse , continue CPR . " Marco replied .

Roy pushed the button to charge the defibrillator again and again
said " Charging 20 , 40 , 60 , 80 , 100 , 120 , CLEAR ! "

Marco and Johnny backed off as another shock was delivered . There
was still no breathing or pulse from the boy , but the guys were
determined not to give up this time , not after all they had went
through with Diane .

Johnny and Marco started another round of CPR while Roy got the
first dose of epinephrine ready to administer . As that was
occurring , Flint and Al met up with them on the hill and Flint
spoke , " We may have got bitten by fire ants , but at least we can
give you a hand."

"Great , you and Al take over CPR so Johnny and I can get to work on
this kid." Roy said as he administered the epinephrine up the I.V.
line . " Marco , go back and check up on Chet."

" Gotcha . " replied Marco . " I sure hope that this boy will make
it , and Chet will, too!  See ya . "

Roy and Johnny were so concentrated on their patient, that they
completely ignored Marco's departure . Another shock was delivered
to the boy's heart at 120 joules per second and still no response
was noted . The swelling in the boy's trachea had decreased enough
so Roy could successfully intubate the patient . They had
administered the lidocaine I.V., when just seconds after the next shock
was delivered , the monitor blipped .

Gage : " Roy , we have activity on the monitor ! "

Roy : " Okay , hold it a second ."
 
The rate and wave strength increased on the monitor as the boy's
color began to improve from deep cyanosis to a pale pink . He then
tried to show signs of purposeful movement as his eyelids fluttered
and hands trembled lightly . Gage noticed the boy's movements and
said . " Roy , he's trying to wake up . He just fluttered his
eyelids and his hands are moving a little ! "

As Al was ventilating , he stopped to check for a pulse . " I have a
pulse, guys , about 76 and increasing in strength . I think he's
trying to breathe on his own ! "

" Respirations 10 and labored. "  Flint said .

" Don't stop.  Let's keep going and I'll get Rampart . " Roy
replied .

-------------------------------------------------------------------------

Photos  : None.

*************************************************************
From :  Derrick <rescueman1962@yahoo.com> 
Sent :  Wednesday, June 29, 2005 4:50 AM 
Subject :  The Recovery Effort
  
 " What is the BP Al " ? Roy said as he grabbed the biophone handle 
with his gloved hand . 

" 70 over 40 " . Al replied back . 

" 70 over 40 ? " asked Roy .

" Correct . " Al nodded .

Roy then speaks into the biophone's transmitter . "Rampart base , 
County 51."

There was no answer for a few seconds and then Dr. Mike Morton, 
attired in surgical scrubs, responds. ##Unit calling Rampart, 
identify.##

" Rampart , this is County 51 .   We have another update on our 
patient . He is now exhibiting motor response by fluttering his 
eyelids and making purposeful movements with both hands . We now 
have vitals to follow . BP is 70/40. We have a pulse of 70 and 
slightly weak and thready , respirations are 10 and labored . He is 
now exhibiting sinus bradycardia on the monitor at 70 , oxygen 
saturation is now at 80% . Any other orders at this time ? " 

Dr . Morton : ##51, give another dose of 1:10,000 epinephrine I.V . 
at 30ccs followed by 60mgs Solu-Medrol I.V. Let us know if anything 
changes . ##

Roy Desoto : " Copy, Rampart. Repeat epinephrine and Solu-Medrol and 
keep you advised of any changes . "

Dr . Morton : ##10-4, 51.##

Roy gets the medications out of the drug box and prepares to 
administer them while Gage does a sternal rub on the boy to try to 
ellicit another motor response from him .

" Hey kid.. Kid! Can you hear me? Wake up ! " 

Mayfair ambulance attendant Flint is still ventilating the boy through 
the endotracheal tube and monitors his color which is still a pale 
pink . His partner Al, continues to monitor his vital signs and motor 
response. 

Johnny sees the boy trying to open his eyes again . 

His hands are now making more purposeful movement as his fingers make a 
clawing like figure then extend slowly out to their normal position .

" Roy ! "  Johnny exclaimed . " The boy moved again ! " 

Roy had just administered the dose of epinephrine and was about to 
administer the second dose of Solu-Medrol up the I.V . line when he 
said , " Johnny, is the motor response the same or different than the 
last time?" 

" He moved his fingers as if he was clawing at something then 
straightened them back out." Johnny replied .

" Okay , Soul-Medrol is in. Let me try." Said Roy as he now knelt 
down beside the boy and gave another sternal rub . 
" Hey kid , kid !  Can you hear me ? Can you feel this ? Wake up ! " 
DeSoto shouted.

The boy's eyelids then flickered and his fingers went into a 
clawtype position and straightened out again . Roy tried rubbing the 
boy's sternum again , " Hey kid , kid ! If you can hear me, move your 
fingers again ! " 

" Hey guys , vitals picking up." Al said .

" Give 'em to us " . Johnny replied . 

Al felt for another carotid pulse and he said " Pulse 86 and 
regular. Stand by for BP " .

Flint, who had been ventilating the patient, had observed the boy's 
facial color change to a slightly deeper pink then earlier before, 
and he said. " Come on little boy , breathe ! " 

Not soon enough , the boy's chest rose and he made a gasping 
sound and he jerked to life . 

" Hey hey ..Take it easy...We are here to help you ." Johnny said .


" Al , Johnny , Flint , let's roll him over to his side . I'll get 
the suction and O2 ready . Johnny , get Rampart . What's his BP ? "
Roy asked.

Al said. "105/70. Pulse.. 86 and regular . He's sure looking good ! " 
 
" Okay , are we in position ? Lets roll him 1,2,3 . " Roy said as he 
got to the head of the patient as the two attendants and Johnny gently 
rolled the boy onto his side . 

Johnny heads over to the biophone as Flint disconnects the oxygen 
supply tubing from the Ambu Bag and attaches a pediatric non-rebreather 
mask that was capable of delivering 90 to 100 percent oxygen . In the 
meantime, Roy turns on the portable suction machine and tells the boy . 
" I want you to stay as still as possible . I am going to remove a tube that 
is inside of your windpipe that was put there to help you breathe . I 
need you to take a deep breath for me ,  okay ? " 

The boy tries to talk through the tube and makes muffled cries as 
Roy talks to him . ::There is a concern of how his mind and lungs will 
function after such an aggressive resuscitation..But if we can save just 
this one precious life in this disastrous situation , then our  
day was worth it .:: he thought.

Johnny is witnessing the extubation procedure by his trusted partner, 
with the biophone in hand at the ready, if something else should 
go wrong with the boy . He now makes contact with the hospital .
Johnny : "Rampart , County 51." 

A very tired Dr . Brackett answers the radio , ##Go ahead, 51 .##

Johnny : " Rampart , update again on our patient that we initially 
contacted you about . We have administered another dose of epi and 
Solu-Medrol . Patient 's vital signs and level of consciousness have 
increased significantly . Vitals were BP 70/40 , pulse of 70 and 
thready , respirations were 8 to 10 and labored with an oxygen 
saturation of 80% . He was making purposeful movement upon painful 
stimuli by fluttering his eyelids and flexing fingers on both hands into 
a claw like position and extending them back into normal position " .

" Vitals are now BP 105/70 , pulse 86 and regular. We do not have 
current respirations and oxygen saturation at this time . The 
patient is displaying a normal sinus rhythm on the monitor. Request 
permission to extubate . "

Dr Brackett : ##51 , obtain respirations and oxygen saturation and 
contact as soon as possible.##

Johnny : " Standby, Rampart " .

Johnny ; " Al , what are the O2 sats ? "

Al : " 92 percent . He's got respirations of .... 18 . "

Johnny : " Okay , I'll tell Rampart . Rampart , County 51 " .

Dr . Brackett : ##Go ahead 51 , this is Rampart and it better be 
good ! ## 

Johnny : " Update on our patient's vitals . We have respirations of 
16 and his oxygen saturation is at 92 % . Requesting permission to 
extubate . " he repeated.

Dr . Brackett takes a long sigh to calm his already frazzled nerves 
and says. ##Okay, 51. Go ahead and extubate. Keep the patient on 
high flow oxygen at 15 liters by non-rebreather mask . Monitor 
his vitals closely and set up a breathing treatment  with 0.90 ml , 0.5% 
Albuterol SVN when you can .##

Johnny : " Copy to extubate , keep on high flow O2 at 15 liters by 
non-rebreather. Give an albuterol treatment at 0.90ml SVN and monitor 
vitals . " 

Dr . Brackett : ## 10-4, 51. ##

" Hey, Roy. Brackett said to go ahead and extubate. Then let's give 
him that albuterol treatment at 0.90ml. Put him on high flow O2 ."
Gage said. 

" Yeah , and let's hope that we can get him outta here " . Roy said . 
" Hey there ! " Roy said to the boy . " We are going to take the 
tube out now .  Try to take a deep breath for us and hold it as 
long as you can . " 

The boy musters enough strength to take in the deepest breath he 
could get into his lungs and with a gentle tug on the ET tube , 
paramedic Desoto places the end of the suction tip into the boy's 
mouth and suctions it out as the tube is easily removed . The boy 
begins to cough violently as Flint puts the child sized non-
rebreather mask on his face . 

" Okay , take deep breaths " . Roy instructs the boy as he coughs 
and gasps and holds the mask to his face . " What's your name ? Can 
you tell me your name ? " 

The boy takes a breath in and says " Timmy.. " 

" Timmy , my name is Roy. I am a paramedic with the Los Angeles 
County Fire Department . This is my partner, Johnny . We are going to 
help you and give you some medicine to breathe in and then we'll 
get you to the hospital, okay ? " 

Timmy then nods his head in agreement .

Johnny Gage came up to Timmy and said. " Hey, Timmy. My name is 
Johnny . I am going to listen to your lungs . I understand that you 
have asthma . Do you take any medicine for it ? " 

Timmy nods his head in affirmation to Johnny's question.

Gage says to the boy. " Timmy , can you tell me if you have allergies? 
It's really important that I know . " 

Timmy nods his head in agreement to Johnny. Al then sees an 
object near the boy that appears to be a nylon wallet . Al  
picks up the wallet , opens it and sees a medical emergency card 
inside it belonging to the boy . Al comes over to Johnny and says .
"Johnny , this might help you guys out . It looks like a medical 
emergency card. We found it here in this wallet . " 

" Timmy , is this yours ? " Johnny said .

Timmy nodded yes . Johnny and Roy look at the medical information 
on the card and Roy said. " This boy has asthma , he's allergic to 
penicillin , peanuts , seafood and pet dander . He has O+ blood type 
and takes Proventil and receives antigen shots every three weeks . " 

Gage turns to the boy and says " Timmy , did you take your medicine 
today ? " 

He shook his head no . 

" When was the last time you had your allergy shot ? Do you remember ? " 
Johnny said . 

All of the sudden, the paramedics' HTs crackled with Captain Stanley's 
voice on the air .

##Squad 51 , HT 51 .##

" Squad 51 , go ahead, Cap." Desoto replied .

" Good news. We have word on three of our helicopters. Two of L.A. 
City's and one CHP are headed to this area for a med-evac . 
Mayfair has two ground units headed for this vicinity as well . 
HT 51 out .##

" HT 51 , Squad 51." Desoto said .

" That is good news.. How are Chet and Mike doing ? " , Roy 
inquired .

##They are  trying to come to terms with the Code F . They still are 
Code I emotionally and have been taken off this assignment .##
Captain Stanley replied .  

" Mommy , mommy ! " Timmy cried  . " Where 's my mommy ? " 

" She's not far away . She is being taken care of by some 
paramedics just like us right down in the hill there . In fact , she 
will be going to the same hospital as you are as soon as soon as
the ambulance  gets here . But maybe you will both get to ride in a 
helicopter instead... " Roy said . 

" Mommy ! " Timmy cried out again . 

" Hey Timmy,..don't worry . Now  you will have to lie down and be 
quiet for us, or you might get sicker . " Johnny explained to him . 
" We are going to give some medicine for you to breathe in, to help 
you breathe better , okay ? "

Timmy 's emotional state settled down some as he replied , 
"Okay. " , in a weeping voice . 

::For a boy his age, the trauma of being involved in such a 
catastrophe as the landslide in La Conchita Canyon, and being 
separated from his mother and friends, could be more than he 
could bear .:: thought Johnny. 

The radios crackled again as Sam Lanier put out a countywide 
broadcast to all L.A. County Fire Department units from Pomona to 
Malibu , and from Pear Blossom to Palos Verde, as the dust settled 
from the landslide . Four alert beeps went off and Sam announced 
from his console at L.A. County Fire Department Headquarters .
## L.A. to all units involved with the La Conchita Canyon incident : 
Situation report from Division 2. -- All access roads have been closed 
off due to light and heavy debris making motor vehicle traffic not 
possible . There is widespread damage to existing structures and 
utilities . Broken underground natural gas mains may rupture, causing 
high risk for explosions due to sparking power lines. The main 
power station has been severely damaged, resulting in widespread 
power outages within the region . Local water supply may be subject to 
contamination. Break ...## 

Sam continues as those in command on the incident listen attentively . 
##L.A . continuing . ..As of this time, here are the latest reports on  casualties: 
43 confirmed civilian Code F , ..no firefighter Code F  .., 655 civilian Code I , 
18 firefighter Code I ...Regionwide mutual aid has been requested and is 
en-route , L.A. clear . ##

---------------------------------------------------------

Photos : None.
 
 
**************************************************
From :  crash200225 <crash200225@yahoo.com> 
Sent :  Thursday, June 30, 2005 5:50 AM 
Subject :  [EmergencyTheaterLive] I Lift Up Mine Eyes 
  
Captain Stalney had settled Mike and Chet behind some boulders where 
the two emotionally shocked men could rest.  Cap didn't want to leave 
them alone, but he had his hands full with the landslide.  He left 
Mike an HT and reassured them he would be back to check on them when 
he could.  Neither man responded, which further worried Cap.  After a 
few more reassuring words, he left to join Johnny and Roy where they 
were working on the young boy.

Mike sat Chet with his back leaning against a large tree, then sat 
back himself.  Both wore a dazed expression.  Though Chet had not had 
an allergic reaction to the fire ants, Mike knew they had to still be 
burning and stinging.  Chet never moved, and spoke not a word.  In 
Chet's mind, he was reliving the events of the past hour, over and 
over again.

The chatter on the HT was comforting to Mike, though he didn't listen 
to what was being said. Instead, he concentrated on a flower at his 
feet.  He was too numb to think and really didn't want to.  At this 
moment, it was just a flower and Chet.  That's all he would allow to 
enter his mind.  He heard a noise to the left and uphill from where 
they were sitting.  He turned his head and looked, but went back to 
contemplating the flower and a shining pebble next to it.

"You boys okay?", a soft voice asked.  Receiving no reply, the 
question was asked again.

Mike looked up at the voice and was stunned to see a young woman 
squatting beside him.

"You guys are firemen, are you hurt?", she questioned.

Mike managed to shake his head 'No'.

"What about your friend?  Looks like he got into a mess of fire ants."

Chet was still wet from the wash down and shivering.  He was still 
in his own personal waking nightmare.  He didn't speak or move. Just 
stared straight ahead.

"I got some water bottles and a couple of blankets in my backpack, if 
you need them.  My name is Jolene, by the way."

Her soft, southern accent was slowly beginning to clear away the fog 
that seemed to envelop Mike's mind.

"What's your name?", she asked quietly.  It was obvious to her that 
these men had seen something that had really rattled them.  She 
didn't want to startle them.

"Mike. He's Chet." Mike mumbled.

Digging through her backpack, she brought out a bottle of water for 
Mike and a blanket which she wrapped around Chet.  It was then that 
Mike noticed she was completely covered in dust.

"You were in the landslide?", he asked.  "How did you get out?"

"Oh, us southern girls are tough as nails.  Dern mountain came down 
on me.  Had just enough time to grab my bag."  Jolene smiled 
slightly. "Hey, got some stuff in here that'll take the sting out of 
Chet's bites.  Think he'd mind?"

Mike just shrugged. His brain was still on overload, and talking was 
never one of his strong points.

"Where I'm from, that's a yeah."  As she rummaged through her 
backpack, Sam's announcement came over the HT.  "Oh my....."

"You understood that?", Mike asked as his face paled.

"I'm an EMT, so yeah, I understood it."  Jolene's face was as pale as 
Mike's.

Neither man recognized the title she gave herself. 

"They may need you down there.  I'll contact Cap on the HT and let 
him know.",  Mike stated, thinking she was hurt.

"I look more like a victim than EMT right now.  Not certified in 
California yet."  She knew she couldn't be of much help down 
there.  "Why don't you call your Captain and let me speak to him a 
moment. I am more than what I appear to be."

After a brief conversation with Cap, it was agreed that Jolene would 
stay with Chet and Mike.  Cap was secretly relieved that someone with 
some kind of medical training was with his two men.  

"Well, it looks like you boys are stuck with me for awhile.  Let's get 
Chet taken care of and then we'll see about getting a bit more 
comfortable.  That root you've been sitting on must hurt your tail 
somethin' terrible.  At least sit on this blanket or scoot over a 
foot or so."  Jolene had taken over care for these strangers as
a good samaritan.

The barest hint of a smile crossed Mike's face as he remembered a 
saying he had once read. ::I lift mine eyes unto these hills, from whence 
cometh my help.::
 
--------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Photos : None.

**************************************************
Date: Thu, 30 Jun 2005 06:18:35 -0700 (PDT) 
From: "Jeff Seltun" <finiterider@yahoo.com>    
Subject:  Loose Ends 
  

Marco Lopez looked up the moment the child had been taken by
a secondary engine crew to the triage evacuation site. "Cap, I've
marked these oxygen cylinders as empty with a fire search crayon.
Where should I leave them for support pickup?"

Captain Stanley only briefly looked up at him. "By the road, there's
a county oxygen supply truck running back and forth through town 
and they're exchanging them for new every fifteen minutes."

Lopez nodded, setting the two that had been used on Timmy and
Diane with a clang down onto the cracked ground. "Who's that with 
Chet and Mike?" he asked, rubbing sweat and grime from his nose.

Stanley shrugged. "A girl who says she's an out of state EMT named
Jolene."

Lopez frowned, "What's an EMT? Didn't know they have any of whatever
those are, in our day and age."

"As far as I know, they don't. It probably means emergency mobile transport
or some such. Or....maybe it's offshoots of Brackett's paramedic 
program branching out throughout the rest of the country or something that
we haven't yet been made aware of, but that's a moot point. She's not certified 
to treat in California, so she says, with whatever her credentials are. 
But I'm sure glad someone who knows something medical's with Kelly and 
Stoker. They're still a bit emotionally winged. Go check on them and get a 
feel for their statuses. Roy says he'll be set to check them out in a few minutes.  
It'll be at least ten minutes or so before we're pulled out of here to go into the 
damage zone." Captain Stanely ordered.

"Right, Cap."

Marco jogged over to his stationmates. "Jolene? My name's Marco."

The dusty, plaid shirted blue jeaned girl looked up from where she was digging 
in her camper's knapsack. "Oh, you must be one of these two's crewmates." She 
read Marco's stencilled name on his turnout. "Mr. Lopez, I got some salve here for 
Chet's stings. Could you put some on? He's agreed to it. I know better than to practice 
out of jurisdiction so you can just wipe those suspicions right out of yer mind and be at 
ease. I only want to help. Even if only through the tiny legal ways I still can use. Is a 
paramedic coming soon to check em out?"

"Yeah, Roy is. He's getting set to come over here after he speaks with a policeman
about the treatment he and Johnny Gage gave a little boy without parental consent."

Jolene set out six water bottles and the rest of her blankets. She handed the tube
of anesthetic salve to Marco so he would use it in her place. "Who's Johnny Gage?"
and before Marco could answer, she figured it out. "Ah,..his partner. Makes sense now."

Marco noticed the out of state EMS i.d. she had set out next to her feet on the dirt
to thwart the PD scene patrollers from ousting her and to keep others from 
considering her a walking wounded who was unattended. "Where were you when 
that hill came down?"

"From my house, I saw the mountain pop loose." she said.
"At least four homes in that area are destroyed or seriously damaged. Including mine." 
She lowered her head as she watched Marco apply the salve to the worst of Chet's
bites. She cracked both Kelly and Stoker some water bottles and made them drink. 
"A lot of kids were on my street, too, because the schools were closed for PTA meetings."

"Can you tell me what you've seen with all the debris? The reports from L.A. aren't 
covering that part of it." 

At that, Stoker sighed, shook himself, and started paying better attention to what
was happening around him as he drained the whole bottle of water in his hand.
Then he concentrated on getting Chet to drink something, including bathing his
face with some of its icy chill and a towel from Jolene's survival pack.

The dusty young woman went on with her account. "The slide is about forty feet high.
It was very scary. It looked like that it wasn't going to stop. It looked like liquid dirt.
But it didn't surprise me too much. This south facing beach has gotten over twelve
inches of rain over the course of last night."

"That explains the fog hanging over the area even during these late afternoon hours."
Marco said.

"I saw broken bones with the crews that are working and a lot of injuries, but only one 
fatality. I've been the one directing folks to come over to your squad and engine."

"We'll, we're bringing in all sorts of heavy equipment now. So we are making
progress." Lopez said.

Cap, nearby, started giving orders out to the arriving fire stations that had been
assigned to them. ##Assess the area, Engine 236. Make sure the site is secure 
so none of our rescuers are in danger. Truck 127, stand by foam in case of fuel
leaks from the roadside oil pumping stations north of town.  Engine 18, 
grab chainsaws, and axes. Try to locate any potential trap victims.## he 
barked into his HT.
 
Jolene nodded with satisfaction at the alacrity with which Cap was delegating tasks.
He reminded her of a Battalion Chief she knew very well in Texas. "Marco, it's bad.
I found two people. I got one young girl out. Firecrews just extricated the other one."

Marco startled and looked around for folks headed into their direction.

Jolene touched his arm. "It's all right. They were on the other side of the slide.
They'll be getting to the triage station from the opposite side away from us."
she went on. "I could hear the voices. I climbed up on top of the rubble and the mud.
And two other guys came in and were helping me. She was buried. Very buried."

"Did she make it?" Marco asked as he finished putting the pain killing ointment on
the worst of Chet Kelly's ant bites. Then he pulled Chet's shirt and turnout back on, 
leaving one of his arms bare for a future BP cuff.

"She made it. They got her out."  the young first aider woman said, biting her lip.
"I have another theory about why this happened. It's not the first time you know.
Cutting a road seriously undermined the stability of the slope's mass and contributed 
to the slide. You can just see it there at the head of the scarp. There's been a long 
history of problems in this area. Some even blame the one rancher up there for
planting all those avocado and lemon trees and how he irrigates them."

Mike Stoker suddenly shook himself and pulled his HT out of his pocket.
"Engine 51 to HT 51 Command." he said.

Jolene and Marco looked at him with close attention while he twirled the stem of
a wildflower in his hand as he waited for a reply from Captain Stanley.

##Go ahead, Stoker.## 

"Cap, put me to work. It'll do a lot to ground me even faster. I can't just sit here."
Mike said non regulation.

There was a pause on the other end of the frequency. ##10-4, HT 51. Report to me
at the west intersection in one. Grab a shovel.##

Stoker smiled then, giving Chet's shoulder a caring squeeze and he let out a quavering
sigh as he still struggled with the stress of victim loss as he stood. "Tell Chet I'll
find a live one for him." he said to Jolene and Marco.

"We will." grinned Jolene, wiping some filthy hair away from her eyes.

Stoker jogged off into the direction of the sunny, fogged shrouded, Ward LaFrance for
tools. He waved as he left at Roy, who was coming from the opposite direction to
attend Chet with a drug box and vitals kit, to show the paramedic that he was fine.

Roy did a double take back at Stoker as he knelt by Kelly to begin a vitals set.
"I thought he was still pole axed mentally." he grinned.

"He was, but he got over it." mumbled a sleepy Chet. "Never underestimate flower
power. He's still got one in his hand."

Roy glanced down in a frown at Kelly. "What's he talking about?" and he started to
examine Chet's eyes with a pen light for signs of abnormal reactions from the ant venom.

"Nothing that's a fantasy. Your man used the weeds growing in front of him to focus on for
a while until he worked things through enough to shake himself out of it." answered Jolene.

"Fair enough. Thanks,...Miss..." Roy dug for a name.

"Jolene. Jolene Morphew.." she replied. "His breathing rate's twenty and even. I've
been keeping tabs on it."

Roy's eyes glanced down at the strange cert card lying on top of the knapsack,
but he didn't inquire further. "I take it Stoker cleared himself."

"Yep. And Cap went along with it." Marco supplied the rest of some vital signs.
"His pulse's still 120 and rapid, but he's cooling off. He's had some of this water 
to drink and the red rash on his chest isn't getting any larger."

Roy nodded. "Thank heavens for small miracles." he said, taking a quick blood pressure
reading off Chet's blanket bared arm. "....Well,..." he sighed. "You're not doing too bad after
being ant bait, Chester B. Kelly. It's 100/68. How do you feel now with this salve on?"

"I still feel like a pin cushion. Those things were biting and stinging at the same time, 
Roy. From both ends!"

"Yeah, well. They're gone and it'll cheer ya to know that they don't leave behind any
stingers like bumblebees or yellow jackets do."

"Oh, wonderful..." moaned Chet. "They save em for later to get the next guy, huh?
Don't think I like that idea very much."

"I don't think the state does either, Mr. Kelly. That's probably why they're still spreading
into California from Texas.." said Jolene. "No one can get near enough to some
of the larger fire ant colonies to exterminate them with chemicals."

"How's the kid? I saw you two working on him." coughed Chet.

Roy smiled openly for the first time in hours. "He's gonna make it. He was almost
one hundred percent stable when we loaded him up."

"Good.." said Chet, too quickly. "That's--that's very good news.*cough*"

Roy got out his stethoscope and checked out Chet's lungs, listening for any
signs of fluid buildup. "Shhh, and let me listen.. Take three deep breaths, Chet.
I want to know why you're coughing." The four of them fell silent as the quick chest 
exam was conducted.Then Roy looked up. "You tight in here at all?" DeSoto asked, 
gesturing to his own chest.

"A little. But it's not bad. Just slightly itchy. I think it's from all this dust." Kelly replied.

"Yeah, well. Let's be safe better than sorry. Get set, Chet. The new standing protocols 
of Early's requires that I give an IM of epi to anyone with the slightest hint of 
chest trouble."

Chet started to anse. "Oh, man.. Roy, you know I hate shots."

"You'd hate getting intubated even more if I don't nip this light edema of yours
in the butt right now. You're not reacting, but you might a few hours later on when
more of this venom leaves the fat under your skin for your blood stream. Let's
stop your mild reaction process before it decides to roller coaster on us, ok?"
DeSoto said, holding the unsheathed needle and syringe behind his back so 
Chet couldn't see it. "I promise it'll hurt less than one of those ant bites
did on ya earlier."

"Ok, get it over with. All I want is a hard cot out of the sun in a personnel recovery 
station somewhere to sleep it off. I'm groggy." said Kelly.

Roy said. "Now that's just the emotional part of things working on ya. Your BP's doing
fine for getting partially eaten alive by hundreds of insects." he quipped. "It'll come
up faster if you drink that whole water bottle. Then I won't have to start an I.V. on ya."

"Not a second needle?! No way, man. I'm not getting another one." And with that, 
Chet lifted up his previously barely sipped water bottle and started chugging away.

Jolene went on with her tale of how it happened. " The news choppers were all set on 
hover over my house and they weren't going away. I thought, how annoying. So I 
called the police department to complain...'Why in the devil are there all these 
helicopters over my house?' I asked." 
'La Conchita Canyon's had a major landslide. 20 homes wiped out. We're evacuating 
the canyon. Turn on your TV.' they said. 'Which channel?' I asked.
'All of them.' said the sergeant. Yikes....I no sooner flicked on the TV set when the 
rest of the hill came down on me." she said, brushing more dirt off of her shirt
and pants legs.

Roy glanced at her. "You sure you're not hurt?"

"Positive. Save your skills for someone else." Jolene answered. "I know
how triage works in California and how scarce the medics are around here today.
I've only seen three squads responded to our location."

"That'll be my squad from 51's, squad 45 and squad 18. The others must all 
be busy elsewhere in the city." DeSoto said rubbing his chin as he gave 
Chet his .3 mgs of epinephrine.

"Owww.." said Chet.

"You'll live. Now let Jolene get you to the road and to the rest and recovery tent.
Stay near a nurse for the next two hours in case you go into rebound, ok?"

"I will."

Roy packed up his drug box and BP cuff set once more. He got up and started
jogging after Johnny, who was headed towards Cap to get their next victim to treat.
"Take it easy, Chet. Thanks, Jolene, for watching my friends." He uptook Cap's
jacket, which had been cast aside for one of Jolene's camping blankets, to give
back to him.

"Anytime. Be careful out there." she said, helping Chet get up off the ground.
She slung an arm of his over her shorter shoulders and slowly, they got up
to head for the road. A police car quickly stopped to give them a lift to the 
first aid tents and budding incident command center.

-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Dixie McCall turned to Kel the moment the child had been stabilized.
"What's got you, Kel? You're acting like you've got ants in the pants."
she chided. "You nearly bit Roy's head off when he said he didn't have
an oximeter or resp count for you yet."

"Gee, Dix.." he replied sharply. "I'm surprised you even have to ask me
that. Let's see... I've got three paramedic teams out there with hundreds of
slide victims and none of them has a working biophone between them.
They're in a canyon shadow, remember? This kid call came to me through
an emergency HT patch through the county fire department comm board.
Now what happens if they have to treat simultaneous victims when we can
only listen to one case at a time through the intercom patching system?"

Dixie didn't even blink. "Then aren't you glad Joe started updating all of
them on the new off radio protocols last week? The only station he hasn't
gotten to on that, for final testing, is 51's. But you've no cause to fret about
Roy or Johnny's ability because they are just too d*mned good at what they
do to screw up."

"We hope." said Brackett, rubbing a headachy head. "Who knows what
happened with that drug overdose. I haven't heard any ambulance
dispatcher call her in, as arriving here."

Dixie fell silent. "Maybe she didn't make it for some cack odd reason. They
are in a danger zone."

"Maybe. But I hate not knowing." he replied.

"Join the club. I'm sure they feel the same way searching for all those slide
victims. Be glad you aren't one of them, digging out." McCall sniffed.

"Sorry, Dix. You know I hate disaster calls."

"I think everyone does." she said, accepting the apology. "But I'm easing your
sense of helplessness even as we speak.." she admitted.

"How?" asked Brackett.

"I told Joe Early about the landslide way before Squad 18 got their call to
respond. I'm sure he's now riding along with them."

"Dixie, you're beautiful!" celebrated Kel. "He can cover any questionable
treatment territory from the triage station on a walkie!"

"And you,...can finally stop chewing up your nurses. See ya.." she said,
heading for the coffee lounge down the hall before Brackett embarrassed
himself further by hugging her in public. 

Brackett sat down heavily onto Dixie's vacated desk chair in profound relief 
and chuckled ruefully.

--------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Photo:  La Conchita's landslide from road level.

Photo:  La Conchita's slide from above, eating houses.

Photo:  Roy treating someone down with a woman civilian watching.

Photo:  A tourniquetted arm getting an IV shot.

Photo:  Engine 36 arriving.

Photo:  An aerial view of diggers on a landslide.

*****************************************************************************
From: "Cassidy Meyers" <killashandraRey@hotmail.com> 
Date: Thu Jun 30, 2005  2:59 pm 
Subject: Basement Depths 

 
Captain Stanley watched Roy and Johnny run up the hill to
where he was standing along the line of fire engines working
the landslide. He directed them to task instead of to another
patient care call. "Roy, Johnny.. Stoker's working on the third
house down there. Searchers thought they heard activity
underneath it. But watch yourselves, there's still some mass
wasting coming from the cliff like scarp at the head of the slump
from unconsolidated sediment. Note this, you've got people from
the town's local fire department helping you out so you don't have
to go get tools. They're on channel seven. I'll have a link open
to them and to you. Stoker's got one of our K-12's and three air bottles
in case of a fire."

"Right, Cap."

"How's Chet, Roy?" Hank asked as they walked by.

"He's fine. He had some light rhonci which cleared up right away
with only one injection. I sent him to the R & R part of the triage
station." DeSoto replied.

"Good going. Thanks for the update." Cap nodded, his helmet strap
swaying in the breeze. Then he turned back to Battalion One to plan
out broader rescue efforts.

Overhead, the newscast crews buzzed the canyon site with their helicopters
relentless. But they didn't interfere with the landing zone set up by
the school for patient evacuations. In fact, the pilots from the televisions
stations often gave out condition reports to the incoming rescue pilots.

Gage and DeSoto got to work. They met up with Stoker right away.
"Mike? Whatdiya got?!" Johnny shouted over the din of the working
circular saw.

Mike Stoker didn't stop splitting the main beam he was slicing through.
"Witnesses said they saw a man dive in between a couple of cars when
the slide came down. I've found the two cars inside this house. I'm cutting
down into a crawl space to see if the victim's still there where he took
cover."

"Have you heard any signs?"

"Not me. But these guys from La Conchita did." and he nodded at the two
volunteer fire department men rapidly digging off jumbles of mud and a pile
of splintered wood from under Mike's spinning blade.

"He's down there." said one of them.

A creaking sagging sound of stressed roofing made all the men duck as the
cockeyed slanted floor and ceiling of the house started moving again
infinitesimally.

Roy spoke again as he took up a pike and started rolling large timbers out
of the way with his feet. "Are you sure we're on stable ground?"

"As stable as it gets. The USGS said this spot's ok. Any settling will just
be damaged house support beams giving way to gravity. The worst is over and
the landslide's energy was spent in the first couple of seconds."

"Until the next one.." said his partner ominiously. "This slide only took
five years to build up after the last one."

"Then why do they build here?" asked Johnny.

"For the money. The climate and the natural springs in La Conchita are just
too good to pass up. But I'll agree, it's stupid that they don't see the old
slide zones as well as we can. I've been at city hall for years trying them to stop
rebuilding in this arroyo because of the slide risk. Now, this happens and it's gonna
suck when I have to tell em, I told ya so.. yet again." said the local fireman.

"It sure will.." echoed his partner.

"What were you doing in the area? We didn't hear 51 get called out from the
county." said the first fireman who was helping Roy push away massive 
cracked timbers from the house's garage frame.

"We were transporting a drug case by ambulance, taking a short cut. Then the
slide hit us as we were going through town to avoid some traffic we didn't know was
related to the slide here." Gage replied.

"Oh my G*d. We saw that boulder in the road. Anyone get hurt from that?"

"Not directly. Our victim died on us when some fire ants ravaged her, a
crewmate, and our ambulance attendants, after we got out of there."Johnny said tightly,
grunting as he dug in with his shovel into the disturbed dirt sucking around his
ankles.

"I'm so sorry. Those d*mned things came with the home builders. Came on a load of
southern state lumber according to one teacher in the school who's been studying 
them. Are your buddies ok?"

"Yeah, no one was allergic. And everyone else effected will get over it."
::I hope.:: he thought privately.

Joe Early came over 51's HTs. ##Squads 51, 18 and 45. I'm on scene and will
be open for any medical traffic should you encounter a situation warranting detailed
treatment decisions. Use your walkies normally. I have been given three to cover each
of you.##

"HT 51 to La Conchita Base, 10-4, doc.." smiled Gage as he heard the other
two pairs of paramedics acknowledge Dr. Early at the same time over the airwaves.
"We've got a live one working, but he's still out of our reach. Stand by.." he
said.

##Standing by, 51.## replied Joe.

Johnny pushed down his HT's antennae and he stuffed it into a side pocket.

Roy gave a shout. "I think I see something! Mike, hold off on the K-12 a
second. I wanna hear for a bit.."

Stoker snuffed the power to an idle and set it down.

"Hey!!" Roy shouted into a deep hole that seemed to be in the basement of
the foundation jilted house. His feet rested on the roof of one of the two
cars that had been described by witnesses. And the bumper of the second
was just visible through the pile of red dirt that Johnny was sifting
through. "Fire Department! Can you hear me? Shout if you can!" he ordered.

A muffled moan to Roy's left sounded, from underneath the still buried car.

"He's alive.." DeSoto said with a tight expression. "But he's under there."
he said pointing to the still buried second car with his lit flashlight.

Gage coughed. "What I'm trying to figure out is how these cars...
got into the basement."

One of the La Conchita men replied. "Easy, the house rolled on top of
them from the cliff top upslope. This is actually the streetside curb
underneath us. See?" and he pointed to a yellow fire hydrant that was
oddly jilted against a pool table that was still standing upright next to
them. "I just hope nobody was home when it did."

"Yeah.." Johnny agreed wholeheartedly. " Uggmmhhf! I can't get to him. 
Looks like all of us are going to have to crawl down into the basement to
get to him. Let me get my belt on. Roy, tell Incident Command where
we're headed. I'm sure Cap's gonna wanna know that we're going
into a slide hole."

"Already did. He's coming himself to help us out. Battalion Two has
taken over for him." Roy replied.

Soon, Stoker, Cap, Roy, Johnny, and Marco were completely covered
in darkness inside the destroyed basement. Only a tiny hole showed
the way back to the top of the landslide's edge. Johnny began to take
heart when he smelled neither natural gas nor blood or bowel material
in the shattered room. "La Conchita.." he said into his radio.

##51, go.## said the two firemen watching the climbing ropes which had
carried station 51 down into the angled house.

"Looks like we won't need our air bottles nor the mast suit. Just a stokes!"
he shouted.

##It's on the way down.##

Roy crawled under the first car and had to drag himself from bumper to
bumper in order to reach the moaning man they all heard clearly now
under the second. He was grateful that all eight tires on the cars hadn't
been blown by flying slide debris. "Hey,.. how are you doing?" DeSoto
asked as he peeled off a glove to feel for the semi conscious man's carotid.

"I thought I .. had found myself a really...good safe ...spot." he panted.

"You did. A house fell on ya and you're not a pancake on the pavement."
quipped Johnny from above. "Can you tell us what hurts on ya?"

"My head...and...my knee. The left one. I think I blacked out for a couple
of seconds." said the trapped man.

"Can you move at all? Is anything pinning you down?"

"I can move. Just too dizzy to." he gasped. "Afraid to move.."

"You don't have to. We'll do all the work getting you outta here." soothed
Roy. "Just try to relax.." he said sweeping his hands over the man's back
and sides and limbs, looking for wet spots or deformities. "No fractures or
major bleeders, Johnny."

"Ok. How's his neck?" Gage asked.

Roy felt along it. "What's your name? Can you tell me that?"

"Martin.." said the man. "And it's Tuesday around six o'clock. Look mister,
I'm not that bad. Just got a headache. My neck's fine, just get me outta
here. I gotta find out where my brother is..."

The rescuers fell silent.

Captain Stanley spoke up from where he crouched under the low
ceiling of the broken house's floor boards. "Where was he when the
landslide hit?"

"At the school....He always goes to play on the swingsets on vacation days."

Everyone let out the breaths they were holding.

Hank smiled. "Martin. Everything's fine. The school wasn't hit at all.
In fact, I wouldn't be surprised if your brother's running around all the
fire engines parked there. That's where we have set up our triage 
operations."

Martin sighed as he let Roy check his eyes out with a penlight. "That's a
relief."

DeSoto grinned. "Well, it looks like you aren't hurt too bad. Your pulse's
strong and both your pupils are reacting normally."

"Thought I was just bumped and bruised. Can I try and get off my stomach
now?"

"Wait until I get this lifebelt around ya.." said Roy. "Then we'll get you
pulled out of there."

"Ok.."

Gage motioned in the dim space. "Stoker.. go ahead and start cutting. If we
get this fender off right here. I think we can get Martin out sideways instead
of making him crawl the same way Roy did getting to him."

"Martin, I'm gonna give you some oxygen to help push away some of
that dizziness you're feeling. Ok. Just breathe this in normally." Roy 
said as he pressed a passive demand valve over the dusty man's
nose and mouth so he could get its full benefit.

Martin closed his eyes gratefully.

Stoker and Hank got to work on splitting the car open just behind the front
driver tire.

They had pulled the chassis away when the rest of the house came down
unexpectedly, sending the two firefighters from La Conchita spilling into
the hole after the 51 gang and it motion sprawled them spreadeagle on
top of the two cars. Dirt and debris rained down, covering everyone like 
sand into the bottom chamber of an hourglass.

Gage's panicky voice rang out through the main emergency channel on HT.
##Emergency! Cave-in at 51's location. We need an immediate emergency
resp---## Then it choked off.

Dirt completely filled the basement and started to bury 
all the firefighters as the house collapsed like a falling house 
of cards.

Two minutes later.. firemen came in a barely controlled panic when none of
their hails were answered by 51 or La Conchita on any band.

They started digging at the ruins of the house's front porch as fast as they
could.

-----------------------------------------------------------------------

Photo:    Gage in a dark space, falling in turnout.

Photo:   A house collapsing on itself in a landslide.

Photo:   Cap working with Gage in tight quarters.

Photo:   Stoker watching Gage climb into darkness.

Photo:   A victim on a demand valve.

Photo:   Los Angeles County firemen digging through weeds
              to get to a house's porch door.

**************************************************
From: "patti keiper" <pattik1@hotmail.com> 
Date: Thu Jun 30, 2005  5:23 pm 
Subject: In Certain Terms... 


The glow of the setting sun, twinkling off ocean waves, now
glinted off the large brown gash that marred the verdant hillside 
above La Conchita.

The whole gang of 51's sat up in a row on the grass of the
school yard, on a curb, getting treated for suffocation effects. 
Each one wore a high flow oxygen mask and were getting medically 
treated by the remaining members of La Conchita's fire department.

Joe Early was working down the line listening to each fireman's 
chest in turn for any developing problems.

Johnny Gage was still coughing occasionally, so he was the
first to get his blood pressure taken by a rescue worker.
He pulled his mask to the side as he spit out a wad of dirt
from his mouth. "Roy, tell me again how we all managed
to get out of there. I still can't believe it..."

"Stoker dove under the pool table and found a firewood storage
bin under the stairs. He opened it up and we all piled in, jammed 
together like sardines. Guess we ran outta air soon after. I only
remember waking up here a few minutes before you did."

Gage held his arm still while a first aider took his blood pressure.
"Thanks, Stoker.. I owe you another one...." coughed Johnny.

"Pay me back by cooking dinner tonight. Then we'll be even."
sighed Stoker from where he sat a little farther down the street
curb wearing his own oxygen supply.

"Awww, man.." sighed Gage. "Not KP again. You asked for that when you
got me out of that factory fire last week."

"I stick with what works, Gage. I'm that kind of guy." Stoker said, peering over
around Cap and Roy, to peg Johnny with an ironic glare.

Gage tried to smile for his caregiver and hide some residual shaking. 
"What's it at?"

"120/74.. Coming up.." she replied.

"Thanks." he told her. Then he raised his voice again. "Hey, hey, hey.
That's seven out of seven not in bad shock. What a track record. Say, Cap. 
Wouldn't you say that La Conchita's got a faster rescue response time than 
we do? They dug down to us in two hours flat, and through rock debris, too."

"They're fast enough, or we wouldn't all be breathing so good right now."
Hank replied.

They all watched as a sleeping Martin was closely attended by firemen
getting him set to fly out to Rampart. Joe Early had long ago treated him
and stabilized his oxygen levels enough for an aerial transport.

The helicopter bearing him away had become a dot in the darkening sky
when they all turned their heads at some jaunty whistling that somehow didn't
seem out of place. It was Chet Kelly, bearing a box full of ice cold bottled water 
and some sandwiches. "I love the Red Cross. Ran into Jolene again and she 
got me these. There's enough for everybody here. Eat up.."

Gage went with that completely. "Yeah, eat up guys, I promise I'll cook tomorrow
night. That okay with you, Stoker? I'm kinda tired still."

"Fine with me, Just make sure dinner isn't pizza again like that last time. That
was cheating." Mike replied.

The others laughed, looking comical behind their oxygen masks.

Chet paused when he reached Johnny, who was the only one who had
had an I.V. started. "So you didn't wake up fast enough for them, huh?"

"Guess I didn't. My NS I.V.'s still running wide open. But gimme something, I'm 
just as thirsty as the rest of em." he complained.

Chet grinned, playing keep away for a few times until relenting and finally giving
Johnny his allotment of food and water. "Got a joke for ya'all that I've been thinking
about."

"Oh, yeah? What's that?" smiled Roy from where he was getting a small head
cut bandaged.

Chet lined himself up so everyone, including the two La Conchita firemen who
were caught inside the collapsing house with his own station's men, could
hear him. "Why is hating fire ants considered a genetic trait?"

No one knew the answer.

Kelly delivered his line. "Because they often run in people's jeans. That's why."
he said smacking his own pair that he had changed into once he was recorded
officially as a code I casualty off duty.

All the sitting firemen groaned, startling their caregivers for a moment until
their rescuers realized that nothing was actually wrong with them.

Cap sighed under his oxygen mask and toyed with his still actively broadcasting
HT. His eyes wandered over to the sunlit slope nearby that showed clear signs
of backward rotated trees that had been going on for years. "I wonder if they've
seen that..." he said pointing them out to the others.

"We have.." replied one of the injured La Conchita men. "That's plot 76-A in
the teacher's log, who's been studying the mountain. He's been my main 
supporter whenever we start crying wolf about landslide conditions cropping up again,
in city hall meetings. Seems the obvious in front of their noses still means nothing to
the mayor and his board of directors." he said, wincing as a worker splinted his
sprained ankle carefully.

"Well, I don't think anybody can ignore that, this time around.." said Hank, tossing
his helmetless head up at the gouged hillside above the town.

"Not this time.." said the passionate fireman. "It's just a shame that so many people
had to die before something constructive gets done. You can count on me fighting
the house builders in a few months so they don't make the same mistake a third 
time."

"Maybe instead of saying I told ya so to them.. you should just sit back and wait
to see what they do on their own this time.." Stoker suggested.

The La Conchita fireman laughed. "I'm nice, but I'm not that nice. They need 
their butts kicked so no more people will die.  Isn't that strange how suddenly, 
everybody's gets selective hearing whenever someone starts talking 
future-disasters-that-could-be, in council?"

"Ahh, now that's the 'what ifs' factor working..." Cap chuckled. "We encounter
that all the time working with our brand of bureaucrats about earthquake risks
in L.A. Only we don't have just a isolated hillside to think about. We have miles long 
faultlines,.. and some of them are cutting right through the heart of downtown."

"I read that. Isn't the La Brea Tarpits bubbling up from one?"

"Yep." said Roy. "Seems the smell isn't enough of a warning sign. And they
built a museum situated there right alongside the tar lake."

Chet chuckled. "Now isn't that the craziest idea you've ever heard?"

"Nope." said Gage with a wry smile. "Building at all in California's the craziest."
He started ticking off negative points on his scraped up fingers.
"We got too little water for the population, we burn up every fall with all the brush 
fires because we let things overgrow too much, and we let ourselves *cough*
suffocate under our wonderfully orange traffic caused smog cap because 
of perpetual desert/seabreeze inversions that we know we can't do anything
to eleviate. Now that's stupid."

"Speaking of ideas. I've been thinking..." Kelly went on.

"Uh, oh. Here it comes.." Marco said taking another breath from his oxygen
tank.

"No, hear me out. This is good, guys. Remember the contest the chief sorta
ordered us to enter this morning?"

"Yeah.." Roy replied for the rest of them.

"Well, I tinkered a bit in the first aid tent and came up with something that
I think will revolutionize at least one of your older paramedic protocols. 
I brought it along with me. It's right here."

At this, Gage started paying attention and stopped chewing his food.

Chet Kelly reached under himself and pulled out what looked like
a low metal stool with an opening square of bars between the support
legs in front. He picked it up and headed for the gurney that Roy
and Johnny were sitting on. "Roy, get up for a sec. Johnny, lie down
on the bed on your back. Here, I'll string your I.V. up on the pole."

"What are you up to?"

"Just something I thought about, thinking about Diane Hart." Chet replied.
"I had hours to do that you know, while they poked and prodded at me."

That quieted the others respectfully. By then, everyone knew the name
of the drug overdose fatality that squad 51 had run unsuccessfully due
to horrifying circumstances.

Johnny lay down and Chet set the modified stool over Johnny's stomach,
Then he climbed up and sat down. Its foot stands were completely on the gurney.
Then he reached down through the square gap and flicked opened Johnny's shirt,
"Hold still Gage, I'm using you as a demo." Chet framed his hands into a CPR 
position on Johnny's sternum. "See this? I'm gonna call it a CPR jack. Sitting 
up here like this makes me part of the gurney so I'll bounce at the same time 
any arrest victim does in a moving ambulance no matter how bumpy the road
becomes. Compressions will stay even constantly. Can you picture it?
You guys won't ever have to give sh*tty CPR again en route. This special seat
of mine will smooth that right out." And with that, Kelly got down off the stretcher,
lifted his invention off the gurney and he helped Gage sit up again and he helped
him swing his legs over the side and back onto the ground. He gave a jaunty 
little bow as the others slowly started clapping in utterly stunned amazement.

Captain Stanley took off his O2 mask, pulling it around his neck. "You know, I
think this idea just might win McConnike's contest, gang.." he said, getting
excited.  He startled when a rescuer first aider suddenly hurried to his side
to put it back on again, chiding him for taking it off when her back was turned.

"It might at that.." smiled Roy. "It sure would be nice if we had no inspections
for an entire year."

Johnny was so incredulous, that he forgot to cough. "We're gonna win."

"We sure are.." said Chet. "I was inspired by Diane directly, guys. 
I'll even call this the Hart CPR jack in her honor, man, on the official papers.
It's the least I can do. And when it goes to market, I'll make sure to set it up 
so her family gets all the profits instead of me."

"What a guy.." said Stoker. "That's so cool. Wish I had thought of this."
said the station's CPR expert, examining all the solder marks Chet had
made to it.

"In certain terms, I thought of it for all of us, guys. And I'm dedicating 
it to everyone who's died here today." Kelly whispered.

Thoughtfully, Station 51 and La Conchita's crew raised an impromptu toast with 
their cracked bottles of water and soon, all of them said their prayers and humble
thoughts of consolation for the La Conchita and firefighter dead, to the arriving 
night wind which was blowing up softly from the beach below them.


FIN   Episode Twenty Two- In Certain Terms


END

----------------------------------------------------------

Photos:   None.

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

                           §§   In Certain Terms  §§

                :)       This episode is dedicated to the people of La Conchita, California
                         and for all the victims and rescuers who helped the day the mountain
                         fell in spring 2005.
                                                                                                                                    
                :)                                                                                                                               :)
@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@

The Story Unfolds...

Season Three, Episode Twenty Three..
 
 §§  The One That Matters  §§

**************************************************
From: Jeff Seltun <finiterider@yahoo.com> 
Date: Wed Jul 13, 2005  2:10 pm 
Subject: Tiny Little Bundles.. 


The scents of sizzling bacon and frying eggs were already thick in
the air when Johnny Gage finally dragged himself out of the shower.
He scrubbed a white towel over his head to begin drying his hair and 
staggered by feel back to his bunk to where had already laid out a fresh 
uniform and pair of shoes. "You know, Roy, I think I should just buckle down 
and sign up to get another set of shirts or something. It's not even nine yet 
and already I've burned through two of the four of the bunch I already have.." 
he complained.  

"That's funny. In the eight years I've been working on the department, I've
never gone through all my shirts during the course of any work shift. 
Guess I'm just neat enough to make it through one without ever using them up."

Johnny threw his hair towel onto the wall in a clever flick 
and he began combing fingers through his unruly black hair to tame it. 
"It's tough some days, Roy. If I don't total em from a messy auto rescue, 
I lose em to cleanup fire grime. I don't know how you manage to stay clean." 
He eased his towel covered rear down onto the foot of his bed. 

A hostile snap of teeth and a fierce pygmy growl immediately arrested
him in the process and he shot back up onto his bare feet. He almost
lost his balance on the water dripped floor as he danced off his painful 
splinted toe. "What the h-?!"

Roy raised his eyebrows at the sight of little Bonnie, the station Boston 
Yorkie, crouched with flattened ears, on the pile of paramedic clothes near 
Johnny's pillow. "Wow. I don't get it. You weren't anywhere near enough on 
your end to make her think you were going to sit on her.." 
he said in absolute stunned amazement.

Bonnie continued to watch the two paramedics warily from her tight protective
ball. She never stopped baring her teeth. She emitted a growl or two when
Gage finally sat back down carefully onto his bunk to finish dressing. "Think 
Chet forgot to feed her again?"

"Unlikely.." DeSoto said mildly. "He knows Cap'll get on his case if she
gets cranky past the usual around him." DeSoto answered.

"Maybe she just got out of the wrong side of bed this morning."
Johnny said, still frowning at the posturing ball of fur.
 
"You mean, kinda like how you did a couple of hours ago for that trash
fire call? How's that toe ya stubbed?" asked Roy, leaning on the wall with a 
section of newspaper in his hands. 

"It's fine. You can see I taped it to the one next to it. 
I don't think it's broken."

"Good. Last thing you need is more injured days off. You've already
max'd out for the month."

"Thanks, mom.." Gage said with mild sting. "You sound like Cap did a few 
hours ago."

Roy didn't get offended, but he apologized by changing the subject.
"I only came in here to tell you that breakfast's almost ready."

"I appreciate it, Roy. But the aroma's already beaten you to it by a 
good five minutes or so." chuckled Gage.

"I can't tell. My allergies are kicking in." Roy admitted.

"I told you to take some benadryl tablets last night. I even told you the ragweed
pollen counts were on the rise." 

"I know. I know. I've just been so doggoned tired after the week we've had, 
that it completely slipped my mind to take my prescription."

"I'll remember to leave the bottle on your pillowcase tonight." chided Johnny as 
he zipped up his pants over his boxers. He blindly reached back for his balled
up socks.

Bonnie lunged forward in a viscious bluff, charging over the top of them until
they were under her furry belly and hidden from sight. Her punishing teeth 
clicked shut just a hairsbreath away from Johnny's fingers and he jerked his
hand back in shock at the attack. Then he got mad. "Hey, you little piece 
of mop scrap. Now cut that out!  Do you really want me to be late for my next
rescue call? You think you're mad, just wait until I catch it from Cap for being
slow and then I promise to come back later looking for something else to 
dump out my frustrations on and you'll be it!" he said, stabbing a guarded index
finger in Bonnie's direction.

Bonnie was unimpressed. She even went so far as to stuff the oversized ball
of black socks into her mouth and went on glaring at the two men standing
above her. Her soft growls became only slightly diminished. 

Gage sighed hugely. "Now what am I going to do? My others are still hanging
over the shower rod."

"I'll go get a pair of mine you can have." Roy said, puzzling over Bonnie's 
odd behavior. "I don't get it. She's not hungry..and she's definitely not sick."

Gage agreed empathetically. "Not with that kind of energy. She could drive off
our mail carrier with that act." 

"Hmmm. That's females for ya. I married one...but I can't say I understand 
em completely yet. I'll be right back with your socks."

Johnny didn't even see him leave. He went right on staring strangely at
Bonnie and she went right on glaring back and salivating angrily. Until
Gage couldn't take it any more. "Hey Cap?! Guys! Get in here ASAP!
I need ya!" he hollered loudly.

The gang came in on the run. Some of them still chewing food.

Hank started up. "What's the problem?" he said in immediate concern.
"Is somebody hurt at the side door?" he said, looking up at the one they
never used exiting the bunk room. 

"No, it's nothing like that. It's Bonnie, Cap. Watch this. And Chet, if you start 
laughing, I'll kill ya and I won't let Roy get anywhere near ya enough 
to bring you back."

Kelly's bushy smile spread into one of mischief anyway. "I won't know if
I'll do that until we all get brought up to speed on exactly what the problem
is here, Johnny.." he said deadpan in tone, but his face was already deep
in gonna getcha mode.

"Cut to the chase, John. My eggs getting cold." Hank ordered.

"Sorry, Cap. Here.. Watch what she does.." And he wrapped his hand protectively
in one of his shower towels before he brought it  down towards where Bonnie was
guarding the sock bundle.

Bonnie immediately let loose and latched on like a tiger in a fierce bite. Then
she scrambled back to pick up the pair of socks into her mouth again. The others
leaped back in surprise. All but one.

Chet started laughing.."Nothing mysterious here, Gage. I'm utterly surprised at
you. I mean with you being a paramedic and all." he grinned.

Gage's face fell into a frown, not liking that he was being baited, once
again by Chet, who knew something he didn't.

Roy returned into the room and handed Johnny his loaner pair. "So you had
to drag the others in here to witness our poor dog who's just having a bad 
day?"

"Kind of?! Roy, she's an absolute menace!" Johnny said, taking the socks and 
putting them on where he stood. He winced when he had to pull the first over 
his sore toe.

"No she's not." Chet said quietly, still smiling. "She's being broody."

"Broody? I know she's crabby. We can all see that."

"Not that definition of broody, Johnny, the other one." said Kelly smugly.
"She's growling for another reason because it's the season, man,
...for lovvvee." he crooned. 

The other firemen started chuckling and they left the room. Chet
stayed behind to enjoy the fallout. Everyone but Gage, had understood
him.

"Quit using twenty dollar words at me, Chet, and speak plain language
already." Johnny flickered, rubbing his chilling arms.

"Ok, I'll spell it out for ya. My uncle's dog used to do this all the time when
it was her time each month. She's adopted your socks in lieu of the puppies that
she now wants to conceive or already has conceived." he said knowingly.
"Her mother's instinct is roaring to the foreground and in that state, she'll guard
the first thing handy. In this case, it's your bunk and socks, Johnny."

Roy stayed quiet and waited for the punchline while that last digested inside 
of his damp partner's brain. Then it came out, wholly satisfying. 

"No way. She's not pregnant. She can't be! She--" then he broke off, remembering.
"Oh, no... Roy, I thought it was odd that Boot came back to the station away from
his favorite laddertruck at sixteen's. Remember two months ago?" Johnny asked.

Roy started frowning. "Yeah.. He didn't take a nap under the engine like he always
does, waiting for Stoker to come out and feed him. He went right for the b--"

Chet completed his thought gleefully. "The bunk room." he said, nodding 
eagerly. "Uh, huh. It's making sense now, isn't it?"

DeSoto's face fell, figuring it out finally. 
"I thought that was kinda odd behavior, even for him."

Johnny's mouth flopped open. "But how could he? I mean, how could
they-- He's three times her size, guys.."

Kelly stopped laughing and headed for the door, his mouth quirked in
mirth. "Where there's a will, there's a way, fellas, and that's all there is to it.
Hey Gage, looks like you're just gonna have to face the facts. Your
little Bonnie here's about to become.... a mother."

"On my bed?!"

"Looks like it now.." remarked Roy speculatively.

"Oh, Roy..."

"Oh, Roy, nothing." said DeSoto. "Sheets are replaceable."

"I'm not thinking about that, I'm thinking about the size difference here."

"Johnny, that's sick." 

"No, I mean the puppies....not what... happened earlier between them." he 
said clearing his throat uncomfortably. "What if they're too big for her
to deliver naturally? It could explain why she's so mad. She might be in a lot
of pain here." Johnny said in a new light.

On cue, Bonnie folded up onto her right side and moaned pitfully. 
The ball of socks rolled out of her mouth limply.

Roy's whole demeanor completely changed.

Gage started to anse nervously. "Hey guys! Get back in here. I think we've got
a real problem now and I'm not kidding this time! Stoker, bring the gear and the
O2 apparatus on the double!"

Cap ran in irritably. "Now what? Gage, if this is some stunt to get back at
Chet I'll--" he broke off when he saw Bonnie, seeming to strain and pant.
"You mean this broody stuff of hers is the latter case?" he guessed.

"Uh, huh... and she's probably already laboring, too." Roy said, trying to 
get near the now distressed dog. Bonnie was so deep in her misery that 
she finally allowed Roy to touch her. He took a fast leg pulse and respiration
count.

Stoker and Marco came dashing in with everything. "Not the defibrillator
and the biophone you dorks.. We can't use those!" Gage snapped.

"You know,.. 'Bring the gear's pretty vague there, Johnny." said Marco.
"What's up?"

Chet's forehead was wrinkled in concern. "Bonnie's actually having...puppies?!"
he said licking his lips. He had said that like he didn't believe it himself.

"What?!" said Hank. "I didn't even know she was pregnant."

"Who could have known under all that fur.." said Stoker. "Cap, permission to--"

Cap sighed. "Yeah,...go ahead. We can grab another tank from the closet
to replace this one."

Mike Stoker got to work and fitted a peds oxygen mask to the regulator
and laid the flowing mask on the pillow near Bonnie's lolling tongue.

Johnny was able to feel her tensing muscles and the bulging shapes
moving there. "I think I feel three very large puppies, Roy. And one of 
them seems to be stuck head and shoulders down inside of her."

That got Chet thinking. "She's having em now?! Where did her water break then?"
he said, looking across the shiny floor.

"Probably in the yard, Chet." said Cap, stroking Bonnie's head, murmuring
reassurances to her. "She was out there alot this morning sniffing around."

"Yeah, but now what are we gonna do? It's Saturday. Our vet office's closed."
Roy asked. "I don't know much about dog deliveries but I've heard that
C-sections are common in tiny dogs like Bonnie."

Bonnie gave out a cry of pain that cut through everyone and her tail
arched into the air and trembled. 

The gang immediately fell to soothing her and carefully positioning her
body so that she could breathe in the easiest possible way.

Cap didn't even hesitate. He picked up the mic from the bedside radio console
and thumbed the trigger. "L.A., this is Station 51. .."

##Go ahead, 51.## said the dispatcher's voice. It was the very familiar Sam
Lanier on duty for them and for that Cap was eternally grateful. It would make his
next request only that much easier.

"L.A. we need a patch over to Rampart Hospital on a personal medical call over
to the emergency desk. This is not a still alarm. Can you put us through?" Cap
asked.

##Stand by, 51.##

A few seconds later, the phone rang on the table. Cap picked it up. "Hiya Dix,
listen, I know you're puzzling over why I had the fire dispatch connect you to
through this radio. This is why. Bonnie's pregnant. Not only is she pregnant,
she's very pregnant and having extreme difficulty giving birth. ......I know this
sounds crazy but none of us even knew she was expecting.. Can you help out
at all here?"

Amazingly, Dixie could.  And soon she outlined her plan. ##I'm off duty in five minutes.
Mike Morton is, too. I'll swing him by with a full animal OB kit from the lab. Captain,
keep her on her left side. That much I know about dogs. It'll take the pressure off
her heart and lungs if you do at least that. She should stop panting. At least that
worked when my dog was having her puppies last year. Try that and we'll be over
in fifteen minutes. Keep trying to reach an on-call vet, too. Morton was only a vet 
candidate when he gave it up to intern here. He might not be able to do much
for her on his own. ##

"Will do, Dix. Thanks for the suggestion and the aid. I'll have the boys get the
rear garage door open for ya." And Cap closed the connection on the radio mic.
He didn't even have to jerk his thumb to get Marco to crack open the station.
"Gage, Dix says to put her onto her left side. She's coming with Morton."

Roy got busy with a stethoscope. "Don't know if knowing this'll matter but
I'll try to pinpoint how many heartbeats there are. Johnny, you said three puppies?"

"Yeah, the stuck one's stopped moving a few seconds ago. Stoker, turn that liter
flow a little higher would ya?" Johnny said. "Maybe it's just keeping still
to protect itself. Better safe than sorry."

Cap stood back and said, "I'll get water boiling."

Chet looked up with an worried expression. "What for?"

"Don't know, they do that in the movies, don't they?" Hank said.

"We could use it for clean up later.." Gage shrugged as he shifted a limp
and moaning Bonnie onto her back and to the proper side.

Her gasping eased off just a bit. And the first obvious contraction that the gang
could see twisted her body in waves. Bonnie gave a pitiful shriek, trying to 
suppress it. "Easy girl.. that's ok.. You're doing fine, we're just trying to help ya."
soothed Chet, as he stroked her head. "Are you seeing anything?" he asked
Gage.

Gage looked. "No, not so much as a single foot." he admitted.

"That can't be good.." Kelly said.

"This whole situation's not good, Chet. Do you know how hard it's gonna be to
find a vet to treat her on a weekend?!" Johnny said rubbing his face in utter
frustration. He still had one bare foot getting cold on the tiles.

"Could get even harder if we get another run to go on." said Cap seriously.

"That's probably why Dixie and Morton agreed to head over here." Johnny
nodded. "Roy, what do you think? I.V. with saline? Or Ringer's? We could keep
it TKO."

"Make it saline. I don't know what a dog's electrolyte hemostasis level is..."
DeSoto admitted.

"250 of normal saline. Ah,.. there's a cephalic vein right here. Chet, can you
shave her leg bare using your razor. She'll hate the sound but we'll hold her 
down."

"My razor? Why are we using my r-- I'll be right back." he amended after he
got a glare from everyone else.

Cap issued another order. "Marco, take over for Stoker. Mike, go make sure
all the food's off the stove. And see if you can call around for a nearby vet.
We'll notify animal control to take her there if we have to."

"Isn't Les and Dave in our area today?" Chet asked.

"Yeah. Yeah! I think so. I think they have all the city pound duty 
assigned for our neighborhood." Gage said, looking up from 
Bonnie's belly.

Roy smiled, "Then there's our standby doggy ambulance."

"Great idea, Kelly. That's using your noggin. Mike, why don't 
we call em sooner rather than later." said Cap to Stoker.

Stoker left the room at a run. 

Roy frowned and took the stethoscope out of his ears. "There's
not much more we can do until everyone gets here. That
third puppy's heartrate's sinking fast. And Bonnie's is rising."

-----------------------------------------------------------------------------

Photo:  A closeup of Bonnie the Yorkie growling.

Photo:  Captain on the radio in the bunkroom.

Photo:  Dixie reaching for the phone.

Photo:  Gage and DeSoto making beds in the bunkroom.

***************************************************
Date: Thu, 14 Jul 2005 10:13:23 
From: "Roxy Dee" <laterrapincabesa@yahoo.com>  
Subject:  The Other Rescue Squad.. 
 

Across town, towards the heart of L.A., the phone rang on the desk
of Sandy, at the Animal Shelter. "L.A. County Pound. Doc Coolidge's
office..." she stated after picking it up.

##Hey, Sandy. How's my favorite dispatcher doing?## said a deep
saxophony voice into the receiver.

"Dave Gordon, don't tell me you're bored already. You and Les 
just got to Carson City on patrol half an hour ago.." she said with
her hands on her hips. Then her face blossomed into an eager smile.
"So tell me, how do you guys like the new truck? It's not everyday the 
state commissioner commissions one for us. And not everyday that
we put one into service for the first time."

For fun, Dave hit the speaker phone button on their brand new white
and green squad's radio panel so Les could hear the whole 
conversation.

## We're liking it real fine.## Gordon said, flashing white teeth
from his ebony face in the sun at his tanned blonde haired partner 
sitting next to him. ##You know, maybe we should scrounge up 
another tiger like the one we rounded up for the fire department
at that meat market last year. Seems the publicity has done 
us nothing but good. Just look at our new wheels, man.## he said
throwing his palms up in celebration.

Sandy was a firm counter to his jubilation.
"Don't push your luck, Dave. You're forgetting the fines we almost
got for conducting surgery over the radio for the baby goat that 
that same fire station rescue squad pair brought in to that
human's hospital." 

##We brought William in, Sandy, remember? Those paramedics had
done everything they could for him, even over the ire of their medical 
director. I know. I watched them use their defibrillator to get a heart reading. 
So if you want to blame someone for that stunt. Blame us. They were
completely innocent of the crime.## spouted Les.

Dave agreed wholeheartedly. "Yeah, How could we have refused a 
handicapped little girl in need? Those paramedics sure couldn't.##

Sandy softened, even audibly, over the airwaves. "That was one
expense the Doc was happy to pay, eagerly. He compensated
Kel Brackett for the anesthesia and medical supplies we used up in 
William the goat's care."

Les's face melted into genuine dismay. ##You never told us that. Why that
inhuman human doctor! Didn't he understand the meaning of the word
humanitarian back then?##

"Les. Les..." chided Sandy. "Now before you go charging off to Rampart
to confront that heart surgeon, let me let you in on a little secret. Dr. Brackett
had to account for the missing supplies somehow for insurance purposes, or 
it would've meant his license if it was ever found out that he used them for
an unauthorized surgery, kapeesh? I know that hospital administrator they
have upstairs on the ninth floor, and he's a real task master! Kel put his job
on the line or at the very least, his reputation, I'll have you know!"

That quieted down the passionate flaxen haired animal control officer.
##Oh. Well that's different, then.##

"Thought you might think that." said the vet office secretary. "Now, what's
on the agenda for today?"

##Not much.## said Les Taylor. ##We just completed our first rescue call.##

"Would that have been one of the mewling kind?"

##No. We didn't have to rescue any kittens from any attic today. Not yet,
anyway.  We had to relocate a gila monster from a public swimming pool
back to the foothills before he bit someone.## said the African American man.

"Now that's exciting! Makes me wish I could join you sometime. But," Sandy
sighed. "..someone's gotta man the phone calls. I can't see any of you guys 
or the Doc, as having enough patience to sit through some of the more irritating 
ones."

##For all your years of passionate service and dedication, our hats are off to 
you, Sandy. ## said Les, smiling widely in mock exaggeration.

"They always are when you're patrolling, fellas! But,..thanks for the tribute. I'll
keep you posted if anything really good comes in today. The Doc should be
in by three."

##You do that, 240-Sierra, out.## said Gordon, thumbing off the microphone 
connecting them to the animal shelter.

Les grinned at Dave as he rounded the turn leading into the industrial section
of Carson City by the Arco refinery plant. "Well, another day, another dollar,
partner."

"Yeah, but in such luxury? Feel that blissfully cool air conditioning!" said Gordon.

"Believe me, I am. I wonder if the fire boys have that ability in any of their trucks..." 
said Les as he saw that they were driving by a fire station on their left. He couldn't
read the number on it but he recognized it as being one of their county's.

"Nah, they're probably used to the heat from working all those fires, man." said 
Dave. "Skin tough as nails, remember?"

"Yeah, you're probably right." said Les, looking away from the brick station
receding behind them.

--------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Mike Stoker set down the receiver after getting just rings at six animal hospitals
that were near by the station. He decided to ignore proximity and time factors
and abandoned the phone book. Instead, he dialed the Los Angeles County 
Animal Shelter and he finally got a pleasant sounding woman named Sandy 
as his last resort. After all, it had been Cap's orders to call in a team from there
if nothing else worked.

Mike reiterated his situation.

Sandy spoke carefully. "A Yorkshire Terrier in advanced labor? I'll let them 
know. I've got a med vet truck patrolling very close to you. Expect their ETA 
in just minutes.."

"Tell them to come into the yard in the back. The door's open.." said Stoker.

"I will. Station 51, right?"

"That's right."

"Watch for them. They're driving a white and green truck fitted with 
yellow flashers."

"Like a hawk."

"Oh, there's one thing you should know, mister. Our vet won't be in 
until three. He's attending a veterinary conference in Anaheim and
won't get back until then."

"That's okay. We've got a doctor of our own with some vet experience on the way.
He'll be handling Bonnie long enough to make sure it isn't dangerous to move
her. And a nurse, too."

"That wouldn't be a Rampart physician and one of his top ER nurses coming 
over, would it?"

"Why, yes.. How did you know?"

"Let's just say I've experienced some of the compassion that particular hospital
staff seems to hand out by the ton indirectly and let's leave it at that. It's nice to
know that Kel Brackett rubs off on his juniors occasionally when not rubbing them
the wrong way."

"You haven't met Mike Morton, then. He's still a little rough on the edges."

"Huh?"

"Nothing. Never mind. " said Stoker. A shouting from the bunk room got his 
attention. "Sandy, I've got to go. Something's happening.."

"Sure. I'm hanging up right now. I'll have the treatment bed waiting for 
Bonnie and any of her puppies A.S.A.P once all this sorts itself out ! "  

Click.

Mike left the kitchen at a run for the bunkroom. 

He skidded to a halt when he spotted a street clothed Dr. Morton and 
Dixie rushing into the garage from the backyard searching around the Ward 
LaFrance for the rest of the gang. "She's on a bunk in there!" he shouted.

Then the phone rang again. This time, on the wall by the large county map.
Stoker jogged over to answer it.

-----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

##240-Sierra. 240-Sierra. Come in.##

"Go ahead, Shelter Base.." said Les Taylor, picking up his microphone.

"More business already? That was fast.." said Dave Gordon.

Les shrugged.

Sandy's voice returned to give them the call assignment. ##19 over to Station
51 at ...2049 E. 223rd Street just east of Wilmington. They've a b*tch in 
severe birthing difficulty. She might be a small dog C-section for the Doc.##

Les startled. "Hey, didn't we just pass them? They're three blocks behind us."

Dave gripped the wheel. "Hang on.." and he flicked on the lights and tapped his
horn as he did a uw-ee in the avenue. Dave took over the microphone so his partner
could drive. "Ok, Sandy. We got it. We'll bring in the vet box with us."

##Good going. Let me know updates when you know them, okay? You know how
I feel about new puppy calls. They've got some human doctor and nurse arriving,
too. So be nice.##

"We will. 240-Sierra out." Dave replied and he hung up the receiver onto its spigot.

"Man, speak of the devil. We were just talking about firefighters." Les shivered.

"Try not to get too weirded out over it, partner. Relax and try to remember that
we are all working for the same goal. We both save lives when we can." 

"I know. I know. But what two departments are farther apart than we are under
the county's jurisdiction? Still feels awkward when we get together. I feel
a bond better with a cop than I do a firefighter." Taylor frowned.

"That's just you. To me, we are all on the same team. Here we go......" said Dave
as the animal squad straightened out to turn into the fire station's side drive.

--------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Photo:  Animal control rescue truck driving away.

Photo:  Dave Gordon, close up, animal control officer.

Photo:  Les Taylor, medium shot, animal control officer.

Photo:  Barney "Doc" Coolidge, animal shelter vet.

Photo:  A sooty Roy and Johnny treating with paddles and a stethoscope.

Photo: A picture of an African pygmy goat wrapped in a shock sheet.


***********************************************************************************
Date: Tue, 19 Jul 2005 15:00:45 -0700 (PDT) 
From: "Sam Iam" <lafddispatcher@yahoo.com> 
Subject:  Reaching Out.. 


Mike Stoker picked up the phone receiver.  "L.A. County Fire 
Department, this is fireman engineer Mike Stoker speaking..."

The person on the other end of the line never started talking.

But Mike heard the sound of an open line, and some soft
brassy wind chimes moving faintly in the background. A 
male canary was singing joyfully over it.

"Hello?" Mike said again more loudly. "Is this a wrong number?"

Thinking that one of Marco's family was calling to chat, but was 
taken aback by getting another english speaking firefighter,
he repeated the question in broken, halting spanish.

The phone clicked dead a few seconds later and the dial tone
buzzed harshly in his ear. "Huh..." he shrugged, hanging up the 
black phone. 

Glancing up, Stoker returned to the bunkroom detouring only
long enough to grab a stack of folded bathroom towels from
the locker room.

==========================================================

The scramble around Johnny's bed, and Bonnie, was noisy.

Dr. Morton and Dixie were already in vet gloves that Les
and Dave had given them eagerly. 

"Just how do you check a blood pressure on a dog?" Johnny
said, shining a utility torch down on Bonnie's tail end, so Dr. Morton
could see what he was doing in his exam.

"Doc, I got the I.V. in and taped the line up around her leg so she
can't pull it out..." supplied Roy at the same time. "Set it at
the drip you want.."

Les and Dave piped up even before DeSoto finished his thought.

"Doctor, do you want us to transport her to the shelter? Our V.M.'s
not in yet. Coolidge comes at three." said Dave.

"Dave, she's breathing awfully fast, I think that it's already too late to
transport." said Les. "Just look at how close those contractions
are together... It must be less than ten seconds in between each one."

Dixie placed soft hands on either side of Bonnie's panting face
and crooned. "There, girl. Easy. We'll find out what's wrong.
Stay down. Stay. It's ok to be scared. I would be, too, if I had three
babies one sixth my body size working their way out of me."

Morton surfed calmly through all the chatter. "Everybody pipe down.
Thanks, Roy. Don't need one, Johnny. No, Dave, it's too late to move
her. I see that, too, Les. That's right, Dix, distract her. There's a problem
down here."

"What did you find?" Johnny asked quietly, all professional.

"She's pushing out two puppies at the same time..." Carefully, he lifted
her tail at the height of a contraction and they all could see a 
pair of birthing sac bulges peeking out briefly before they slipped back 
inside of her. "Probably a leg and a snout.." Morton said, palpating
the area gingerly. "What kind of heart sounds did you get?"

Roy answered, passing off the stethoscope to Morton as soon as
he remembered that it was still framing his neck. "I don't know what
normal is on a dog. But Bonnie's heart rate is much faster than it was 
just a few minutes ago and one of the puppy's sounds slow and 
depressed..."

--------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Closeby, Cap leaned into Stoker. "Who was on the phone?"

"Don't know, Cap. I got a hangup before I could find out anything."

Hank sighed. "Figures. Why don't people have the common courtesy
enough to apologize when they do that?"

"Because of some embarrassment?" Stoker suggested.

"Only in the very young or very very old. I think that people are just 
getting sloppy nowadays and get rude without meaning to."

Mike mumbled to himself with a half smirk. "That was the nicest rude
canary I've ever heard..."

"Huh?"

"Nothing, Cap. Just thinking to myself."

The two fell to listening to the huddle around Bonnie again.

--------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

"Marco, tip her head back a little more. Dixie, let's slide her to
the middle of the bed." ordered Morton.

"Got it.." said Dixie.

Morton frowned. "I'm a bit out of my element here. It's been years since
I worked in a vet clinic. And even then, I was just a technician."

"But can you help her out?" asked Chet.

Mike pulled his hands away from Bonnie's heaving stomach
and started to examine Bonnie's eyes with the penlight that he had deftly 
snatched out of Gage's shirt pocket. "I'll do the best I can, but I
can't guarantee anything boys. She's in a real bad way.. I think.."
he amended. "She's not yet shocky but I don't want to risk a Cesarean
section under these unsterile conditions. The resulting infection would
only kill her later on."

Marco moved the oxygen mask closer to Bonnie's mouth and nose on
the pillow case. "Poor girl. I know it hurts. Hang on.. The doc's gonna
figure out something.."

Mike Morton shot him a sharp look, feeling uncomfortable with the 
confidence the others were giving him to solve the situation. Then his
features settled into resolve. "Dixie, your hands are smaller. I want
you to do this next part. I'm going to try to turn these pups in utero.
I want you to hold back this one's head in the birth canal while I twist 
this second one's hind paws right out of her. It may return the endangered one's
umbilical circulation flow to normal before his heart stops completely.
Then I'll figure out how I'm going to free the first for delivery.
Fellas, I'm not going to rupture either placenta at all until we've got just
one puppy into position. We need the cushioning in there to safeguard
the third still waiting inside. If these suddenly burst, all the cords will start 
shunting blood into all the puppies. And that may bloat them too big to 
pass through Bonnie's pelvic arch. Each sac is supposed to break
only when its attached pup's nose and head is pushed outside into the
air."

Hank blathered. "W-What ever you say, doc. You're the expert."

"Far from.. I'm on one hundred percent guessing ground territory here.
Don't get your hopes up.." Mike grunted. "I'm afraid this dog might still 
die before we're through if things don't start moving along a little faster."

Dixie smiled quickly to soften Mike's bluntness. "We'll do everything
we can to save her guys to the best of our abilities. I promise." she said, 
kissing Bonnie's nose affectionately.

The gang was still uncomfortable. So were Les Taylor and Dave Gordon.
"I hate getting calls like this. D*mned if you do, d*mned if you don't. And
none too fun for the pups."

"Got any sage advise for me?" Morton asked the two shelter officers
uncharacteristically.

"Yeah, start praying." said Les.

Dave, was more thoughtful. He rubbed his chin. "I remember one time
when the doc had a mother straining like she is with some large pups."

"Oh, yeah..?" Mike said, still working feverishly with Dixie to unknot the
two glistening twin bulges peeking out under Bonnie's writhing tail.
"What did he do to help her?"

"He got her warmed up. To relax the worst contractions long enough for
him to right the pups positioning to normal. Worked better than any drug
I've ever seen.." said the sweating African American man.

Gage flew into action. "Roy, how about a burn pack from the squad.
We can fill it with hot towels straight out of the shower.."

"Sounds like a plan.." said DeSoto.

"Here." said Mike Stoker, passing off his stack to the two paramedics
who rushed to soak them. He handed them a plastic wrapped yellow
bundle as well. "No need to run for this. I already got a burn pack. I 
thought we'd be needing it for a stretcher."

Right then, the tones went off..

"Oh  noo.." Chet fretted angrily. "Not now.."

##Station 51, unknown type rescue. At the high school. 1701 Western
Ave. 1701 Western Ave. Cross street Lincoln. Time out 0940.##

Hank Stanley fumbled with the bunkroom radio mic until he got
a good grip on it. "Uh,, 10-4, L.A.. Station 51 is responding, KMG 365."

Gage reluctantly tossed the towel bundle to the two animal control
officers. "Les, Dave.. could you?"

"We're on it. The showers are where?"

All the gang told them eagerly and nervously, talking over each
other. 

Dave held up his hands. "I got it. We'll radio on Tach Two with news 
when we can. The doc here can fill us in as soon as he's able to."

"Appreciate it.." Hank said as he and the others ambivalently retreated
for the fire vehicles. They shoved into one another like a comedy act
before finally pulling themselves together emotionally and physically
for the run.

Soon, the county animal team and Rampart's team were left alone
to deal with Bonnie's ineffective labor.

----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Photo:  Stoker on the payphone.

Photo:  Dixie in street clothes at the station with the gang.

Photo:  Morton in close up at the station.

Photo:  Two birth sacs sticking out of a dog.

Photo:  The gang hovering over an animal on a station bunk.

Photo:  Cap answering a rescue call on radio.

Photo:  Johnny and Roy pulling on turnout at a scene. 

***************************************************************************
From: CONSTANTINOS BOURAS <kb9ora@yahoo.com> 
Date: Fri Jul 22, 2005  1:42 am 
Subject: The Story continues  kb9ora 
  

As the Engine and Squad sped out the door, Morton
placed the warmed towels around Bonnie to help her get
warmed up after Dave returned with them from the
bathroom.

---------------------------------------------------------

Back at the shelter, Sandy's phone rang and she
answered it "L.A. County Animal Shelter, can I help
you?"

"Sandy, it's me, Doc Coolidge, calling in to check my
messages. Anything important?"

"No. No calls. But Dave and Les are on a call at L.A.
County F.D. Station 51, for their female Yorkshire
Terrier that's in labor and having a difficult
delivery. I understand Rampart also has a doctor and
nurse on scene also." Sandy replied.

"Oh, great! And I'm still three hours away by vehicle.
Do you have a phone number to reach them at ? Maybe
I can call them and help by phone." Doc Coolidge
answered.

"Sure it's (310) 830-3170." Sandy told him as she passed the   <--- <yes. That's the real phone #.>
number from her directory.                                                                    <ETL Hosts>

"Thanks." as he hangs up his phone, then places a call
to the station.

-----------------------------------------------------------

Meanwhile, at Rampart General Hospital, Doctor Brackett
asks Dr. Early if he has seen either Dr. Mike Morton or
Dixie.

"No Kel, sorry." Dr. Early replied as Dr. Brackett
walked away searching for his missing nurse and
doctor.
 
------------------------------------------------------------

Photos:  None. 

*************************************************
From :  Cassidy Meyers <killashandrarey@hotmail.com> 
Sent :  Monday, July 25, 2005 4:35 AM 
Subject :  Eye to eye... 

Kel made his way over to the nurse's desk in emergency in 
a last ditch effort to find his head nurse and youngest resident 
doctor. He saw Carol's retreating back as she guided a father 
carrying his son with a pillow cocooned broken arm into treatment 
room five and trailed by Joe so he squashed the plan to ask 
her their whereabouts. 

Frowning, he turned to Sharon Walters, the large dark eyed 
lip gloss oiled brunette in a blue nursing student smock, working 
on resupplying the drug cabinet behind the main desk. 
"Miss Walters, have you seen either Dixie or Mike in the last half 
hour?" 

"Yes, doctor." she replied. "They both had their coats on and both 
said that they had an urgent errand to run. They told me to give you the 
Greggerson chart that they finished up together for you." And 
Sharon handed Doctor Brackett a steel chart holder opened to the 
prescription ordering page along with the blue pen that she had been 
chewing on thoughtfully while she worked. 

Dr. Brackett took the lip gloss smothered, tooth dented pen politely 
after only a short, half smiling hesitation. "Thanks. I WAS looking to add a 
med to this. How'd you know?" he asked changing the subject to get 
his mind off the masticated pen. 

Sharon shrugged. "I saw that Mrs. Greggerson's w.b.c. count was high 
enough to get an antibiotic order since that wasn't started by the paramedics 
who brought her in. Then I saw that your name was on the base 
station log as having dealt with their call.. The rest was pretty 
easy to figure out." 

Brackett gave her a rueful grin. "That's Dixie rubbing off on you,.. 
all over." Then he threw back his head and laughed. "Sharon, you're 
turning into the epitome of efficiency around here. " he quipped. 

"Thank you, Dr. Brackett. I have a good mentor in Miss McCall. 
Second only to you." 

Brackett was good enough to blush with the compliment. 
But then he frowned again. "I wonder why Dix and Dr. Morton left so 
soon.. Their ER rotation doesn't end until six o'clock this evening." 

Sharon just blinked her shy, mascara heavy eyes at him. 
"It's Thursday already, Dr. Brackett. Doesn't time fly when you've 
been having fun working all night?" 

Dr. Brackett looked as if a sudden realization leaped up 
and bit him in the pants and he sighed expansively in unpleasant 
discovery."Oh,.... it's ......Really?" 

Sharon went on apologetically nodding her head yes. 
"Today makes it their payday "friday." And on fridays, both Dixie 
and Dr. Morton get off by nine fifteen in the morning for their..." 

"...their subjective weekends. That's right.  I still feel like it's Wednesday. 
Did I ever tell you how much I hate the graveshift effect?" 

Sharon batted her eyes with a shiny smile. "Frequently, doctor." 

"I do?" 

"About as much as you used to yell at me for making a mistake." 
she said. 

"Well, let me compliment you again on your foresight to start offsetting 
that past negative balance..." Kel grinned, hefting the patient chart 
for which he had been looking so intently.  "I can be an ogre but 
that's..." 

"...that's what helps shape unconfident students into confident nurses.." 
she echoed along with him and she started laughing. "I know. Dixie says 
that's one of your personal mantras that you'll never sway from in practice. 
Brackett mantra number thirty seven." 

"Thirty seven?!" Kel said starting to boil with a lit wick. "I know Dixie likes to 
psycho analyze me to death, but spreading around what she discovers 
about me on you nurses is ...is...taking things a little too far into personal 
territory!" 

"Doctor.." 

"What?!" 

"Please don't yell, I think the people over there in the waiting room can 
hear you..." Sharon said, without ruffling. "Besides, it's all been for a good 
cause, doctor." 

Fuming, Brackett just turned redder the more he tried to whisper angrily. 
"Oh yeah?! Well how do you figure that?" 

"Well,..there hasn't been a student nurse quitting because of one of your famous 
tantrums in over three months.." she said honestly. "Because Dixie's deflated the 
fear in practically everyone in my nursing class by continually reciting these 
B mantras she attributes to you to each of them over coffee. Including me." 

Kel was struck speechless. He just handed back the order scribbled chart he had 
just finished penning without a word, gummed the air a few times, and walked away 
with all the dignity he could muster, until he reached his office across the hall. 
::I'm gonna have a long talk with my supposed head nurse. I can't believe she's made 
good on her threat to make things go softer on all the nurses during training. If she keeps 
that up, pretty soon they'll all start questioning doctor's orders as soon as they get them 
for thinking that they know it all fresh out of nursing school!:: he thought vehemently. 


Soon, he had the hospital operator spill the beans on the latest base station call 
that Dixie had last recorded in an attempt to find out where she had gone. 
He was told about the land line call from Station 51. Soon, he was on his 
own landline to her, directly. 

"Dixie..Come on now! Spreading ANY kind of rumor or grapevine about 
me is just short of insubordination in my book and you know it.." 

##Uh huh! Brackett mantra number nineteen, DOCTOR. And I don't 
care what you think about what effect MY nurse training methods are 
having. I never tell you how to do heart surgery!## 

"Touche, Dix." Kel just had to smile at her verbal ire even through his 
own stung ego."Thirty seven, Sharon said... I have that many?" 

##No, Kel. You have thirteen MORE. Just call them the fifty deadly vices of Kelly 
Brackett and be done with it. I had my reasons. And I have an even bigger one to 
hang up on you because Bonnie's about to become a mother in just about five minutes. 
And I'm not there to help Mike out with her because I'm tied up on the phone .. 
arguing....with you!  We'll talk about this on Saturday when I'm not busy doing 
something that's really none of your concern right now that's on my own personal 
time!## 

Click! 

Dr. Brackett's ears stung with the reverberation. "Oh, for Pete's sake. 
Who the h*ll is Bonnie?!" he said, hanging up the phone grumpily. He pegged 
a guess in the wrong direction about that name and his little reputation problem. 
"Next thing you know, they'll be hiring female firefighters to go along with the 
female paramedics already filing through! It's gonna be ..pure matriarchy 
for sure. Between them and all my nurses! And a living h*ll for every doctor 
who'll ever hope to train with me at Rampart for the next decade!" 

Kel drowned out his sorrows in a cold bottle of spring water from his office 
frig and tried very hard not to think about the word ..."mantra." 

============================================================= 

Photo:  Kel Brackett at the desk base station with Sharon Walters.

Photo: Dixie on the rec room couch with Henry and Johnny Gage.

Photo: A closeup of Brackett looking perplexed outside his office.

***************************************************
From :  Roxy Dee <laterrapincabesa@hotmail.com> 
Sent :  Monday, July 25, 2005 9:52 PM 
Subject :  The Wrong Crowd~~  


Station 51 rolled to a halt at the high school across town. The sirens
had already attracted most of the school's inner students, who were in 
between classes, like flies to a roadkill. They clustered around
the firemen as they got out of their vehicles, quickly.

Cap was hard pressed to locate the call originator in the front cul de 
saac parking circle. He approached the nearest person old enough 
to look like a school employee. "Captain Stanley of the Los Angeles
County Fire Department. Did you call us?"

The gray haired man nodded and replied. "I'm the superintendant here. 
I thought he'd never listen to reason. Oh, ...thanks for coming so
fast."

Roy DeSoto spoke up. "Sir. what exactly is the problem here? Is there
a fire? We can't tell whether all these students are out here because of
an alarm or because of the fact that they saw our trucks pull up."

Nearby, Chet Kelly was almost pushing the crunch of kids away from the engine.
"Hey, guys. Step back onto the curb. You're crowding the h*ll out of us.
We can't work without space. Please, just step back. You can see fine 
from the lawn and sidewalk across the street. Now move for your safety
until we figure out what the problem is.."

At least some of the hundred or so chattering curious, rowdy excited teenagers 
did what they were told.  Stoker finally scattered the rest of the large milling 
group off the driveway with a blast of the airhorn on the Ward set at full freeway 
volume. 

They didn't stay there for long and soon returned to smother the firefighters.

The superintendant tried to answer Roy's question but got bumped strongly
by a pair of horseplaying young men who were shoulder wrestling. Marco
steadied the man. "Hey! Knock it off you guys!"

"Says who?" replied one of the mock fighters, who promptly ignored Lopez
and turned away, waiting for his sporting game to start up again.

Hank immediately got on his HT. "Engine 51,...L.A., Respond a police unit to our 
location for crowd control A.S.A.P. They're interfering with our ability to ascertain
just what our current situation is." he said in hurried frustration. He ran interference
to protect their contact caller by jamming himself between the play shoving teens
and him without touching anyone with his hands.

##10-4, Engine 51. L.A.P.D.'s reports their ETA as three minutes.##

One of the boys bounced off Hank's broad back and glared at him in mild 
irritation for spoiling their fun. Cap stared back as his men began to probe
for information from their contact again.

Gage hung onto the superintendant to be heard over the noise of all 
the teenagers boiling around them. "You ok?"

"Yeah, stupid kids. Don't worry, mister. The bell's gonna go off right about....."

RIINNNGGG!

As if by magic, the students suddenly looked up in horror and started rabbiting
back into the school in droves, parting like a river around Station 51's crew.

Soon, they were alone. The superintendant sighed hugely and wiped the 
sudden sweat off his forehead. "Whew! That's a relief. It's not a fire.. 
or anything like that, guys. The call was from our coach. Out there.
He says he's got a player down on the field.." said the man, pointing across
the very car congested parking lot to a full to capacity outdoor bleacher stadium
filled with game attendees at an active football match. "Glad you called
the cops, captain, because I don't think the father's gonna let anyone near his
son long enough to treat him. He's dead set on him continuing to play.
You know the type. Macho ex military.."

"What happened?" Roy asked.

"Bad tackle. I think the kid busted his leg real bad. Coach said when he got 
his shoe off, his toes were already turning blue."

Cap jerked into motion. "What's the best way out there? If that leg's circulation's been
cut off, that kid's gonna have major problems."

The superintendant shifted his urgent gesturing. "Through the utility gate. There's
an access road that leads right to the fifty yard line to the north. All you'll have to
deal with is a few picnic blankets and lawn chairs from those who couldn't get 
bleacher tickets. Come on! I'll open the gate for you. I have the key.."

"Uh, huh. And what does this coach look like?"

"Green jacket. The downy kind. And gray hair like mine!" shouted the witness.

"Ok, thanks a million. Now let's move.." Cap urged the man.

Roy and Johnny were already beelining for the squad, peeling off their helmets 
and overcoats. They threw them inside before restarting their ignition.

Hank shouted to Roy. "You want us to follow you?" 

"Yeah, we'll need the extra hands if active traction's gonna be involved. A stokes
wouldn't be a bad idea either. That player may be pretty far out onto the field."
  
"Ok, You lead the way after him." 

Cap gestured to Stoker, still sitting in the cab, to follow the squad that was quickly 
dogging the hurrying superintendant's back. The sweating man soon got hold of the
the privacy blinded chain link fence sealing off the access road and had it pulled
out of the way.

The engine and squad roared with lights and siren down the red rock until they cut
a sharp right onto the grassy expanse around the stadium. They soon were leaving 
deep muddy gouges on the pristine grounds that had just been sprinklered.

Behind them, the superintendant put his hands to his face. "Oh, no. Not the lawn.
Just look at those furrows. The nightshift groundskeeper's gonna kill me."

Cap got on the horn as he and the rest of the gang bounced wildly as the engine
alternately had its opposite tires sink into the water soft ground as it moved. 
"Engine 51, L.A. we have a football player down with a serious leg injury. Respond an 
ambulance to our location at the outdoor stadium at the end of the high school's 
side maintenance road to the north. Update P.D. to our new twenty. Also
tell them that we're not out of our little crowd problem yet either." he added
as he spotted an illegal bottle rocket arching into the air from one of
the bleachers. "I'm seeing pyrotechnics.."

##10-4, Engine 51.##

Hank looked at Mike when he had rehung the radio mic onto its spigot in
front of them. "How do the treads feel? Are we gonna get stuck?"

"Not a chance, Cap. Torque is still good even in first."

"Ok, just take her slow."


------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Gage and Roy found the gap between the bleachers and pulled up as far as
they could go to the painted field boundary. "Man, they're really into this
game now, aren't they?" he shouted to Roy over the loud booing roar from
one side of the high school's wooden risers. And it wasn't from the home team.

"Sounds like this football team's just as aggressive as the book learners
around here."

"Yeah.. if those two wrestling clowns were any indication.." Johnny remarked as
they gathered up all of their medical gear.

Hank snapped out orders. "Chet, Marco. Lay some line and cover spray all
the garbage you see under the bleachers in a complete 360 around the stadium.
Connect off to the hydrant by the concessions stand. If any sparks from those rockets
firing off reaches the paper debris down here...."

"No one's gonna burn past emotionally in this game, Cap.." Kelly promised.

Cap nodded in satisfaction. "Stoker give me a megaphone and then go grab
a stokes out for them as soon as you can. Getting a hare traction splint's not a
bad idea either. We've a fifty fifty chance on this being a femur fracture."

Hank got his portable loud speaker. ###You there in the bleachers. This is the Los Angeles
County Fire Department! Stop lighting those fireworks off now! It's too dangerous 
in such close proximity to all the spectators!###

He was met by jeers from the few people who even bothered to peer down through the
bleachers slates at the boring pair of fire vehicles beneath them. He was shocked to
see full grown adults, obviously parents, in the home team crowd misbehaving right along 
with younger teenaged ones.

The bottle rockets continued.

Soon, Cap, Stoker, Johnny and Roy got their first look at their surroundings.

To their absolute amazement, the game was still ongoing in an active charge.
They winced as green and white jerseys colliding in bone jarring, no stops
bull in a china shop momentum.

"So where are they?!" Gage shouted back at his crewmates over the angry buzz
of the crowd. "I can't see anything yet.."  He had to dodge a full paper pop cup
that suddenly hurdled down onto him, full of chocolate shake.  "Look out, Roy!"

DeSoto wasn't fast enough and got a face full of ice cream.

"Knock it off you idiots!!" Gage shouted up to whoever threw the drink.
"We're on a rescue call!"

Cap took Roy's gear boxes and tossed them into the stokes he and Mike
were carrying and hurried after Johnny while Roy cleared his eyes enough 
to see and follow. "You ok, pal? D*mn that crowd. I should have called for 
six squad cars!"

"Cap, now that wouldn't be good PR to cast a nuisance fine on the high school 
like that. I'll live and we haven't been delayed enough to matter here." Roy 
sputtered. "I'm not hurt.."

"You may not be. But a few more of them might get that way if this animosity
between teams keeps up like this." Cap growled.

Another bottle rocket went off into the sky.

"CUT IT OUT LAUNCHING THOSE ILLEGAL FIREWORKS!  YOU'RE GONNA 
START A FAST MOVING BLAZE RIGHT UNDER THE BLEACHERS IF YOU KEEP 
DOING THAT!!" Hank bellowed through his megaphone. 

"Cap, I think you oughta tone it down. We're on the wrong side if you know
what I mean." Stoker yelled. "They realize we're gonna be helping one
of the rival team's players.."

"What a bunch of... And this is their own home game?! Just what kind of
high school is this?" Cap complained.

"A very very cliquey one, Cap." Stoker said, pressing foward, as he lowered
his helmet to shield himself from a raining box of popcorn that suddenly
started pelting down like confetti to compliment the ample bottle rockets
continue to hiss into life around them.

"They're gonna fry if they keep this up. And they don't care. What
monsters!" Hank said in exasperation. "It's only a matter of time before one 
of those spent works reaches the trash under the bleachers. And then we'll
really have a hot time."

"That's only if Marco and Chet are slow wetting the stuff down, Cap. 
And they're never slow when it comes to a potential fire risk."

"You got that right.." Cap muttered angrily.

Stoker and Stanley heard a series of indignant squawks from above them when 
Chet shot all the bottle rocket launchers and the drink and food throwers
in the butt with a sharp icy stream from his hose under the seats. The home
team boos choked off, and ones from the rival team across the stadium 
shifted to the opposite point on the compass into light mirthy jeers.

They got the rest of the way out to the tight coach and staff huddle over the 
downed football player unmolested, amid a jumble of cheers and shouts of
encouragment from his team's onlooking spectators. 

"Yey, they're here!"
"Don't worry, we'll protect ya on this side!"
"Is he all right!? My g*d that leg looks awful. He's got a second knee! 
I think I'm gonna be sick!..."
"We'll cream 'em in the second half time for injuring our star 
quarterback like that. Just you wait. "  said several.

Just shy of the rival team's fifteen yard line, the firemen finally got
to a team of three coaches kneeling over a navy jerseyed african 
american teenager. One of the coaches was making gestures in an 
obvious can-you-breathe-ok? motion.

Gage shoved past him with the O2 and quickly got some on him by the 
faster demand valve around the teenager's screams of utter agony.
"Ok, Move aside. We got it from here. You down there, keep 
holding that leg still until my partner can take a better look at it."
he ordered, crouching over the boy's white helmeted face. 

Roy ignored the pointed curious stares he got from the coaches as
they eyeballed the pinkish brown goo dripping out of his hair and 
down his shoulders. One of them threw a towel over his shoulders 
to use quickly so he could work. 

"Sorry about that." said the man who could only be
the coach who requested their response on scene. "I've been trying
for six years to get my boys' family and friends to behave nicely at 
these games. Believe me, it's been a war this whole season keeping 
them civil. I'm surprised murder isn't being done yet judging by how
your partner looks." he told Johnny.

Another coach spoke up around him, a woman of thirty with short brown
hair. "He's real shocky. His pulse's 126 and bounding. I've tried to get
Lance's breathing slowed down but..."

Roy turned to her. "Thanks for the information ma'am, we appreciate it.
Now could the three of you step back a little? We can't work with you
folks sitting shoulder to shoulder with us like this. He's gonna be just fine.
He won't suffer with this for long here. We have pain meds that can take
away all of his pain in seconds. Lance? I know it hurts, but my partner is 
gonna have to check you out to make sure you don't have a head injury
working on ya before we can handle any of your discomfort. Ok? Now
how old are you?"

"OwWWW!  *gasp* S-seventeen.. Mister.... I can't feel my foot anymore.
Ohmyg*d my leg hurts!! It's real bad. Something's wrong inside."

"I'm trying to help that down here." said Roy, gingerly manipulating the
leg even before he cut open the teenager's leg wraps and tights to
see the extent of the thigh bone's misalignment. "This is gonna hurt but
I'm gonna try to get the blood flowing back into your foot by moving it
back down the way it rests normally."

"Just do it!" gritted the heavily muscled dark skinned young man. "I 
wanna play ball again without facing a lifetime on crutches-S-S as
a total crip, man, understand me?! AghH! Just fix it!"

Roy carefully drew the leg down to neutral position and smiled tightly
when the foot began to pink up very weakily in a surge of rapid pulses.

Lance started gagging and nearly blacked out.

"Lance!.. Lance!! Now breathe in this oxygen to get your mind off it. The 
pins and needles'll go away in a min---" Gage started to say.

Lance rolled over onto his side and was violently sick. Johnny barely slid
his knees out of the way in time. Stoker quickly handed Gage a suction 
wand in trade for the demand valve so Johnny could rapidly clear food
out of Lance's lolling mouth.

He bent close to make sure Lance started breathing again when it was
all over. "Easy.. easy. We're done, Lance. We're done.. Spit the rest of
that out. I'll get it out of the way."

Lance groaned and full consciousness returned cruelly once the oxygen
was settled back onto his face.

Roy looked up as the boy lifted violently off the ground with a return of more 
sensation in the shattered bone. "Where's his father? We can't treat with any 
medications here without a parent's--"

"I'm Lance's step father." declared a big beast of a man who suddenly barged
through the trio of smaller coaches. "He don't need no dope for his leg. He'll take his
lumps like a man. He won't be showing no weakness to those heckling jackals in the 
stands by taking junk. Ain't that right, Lance?"
  
"Y-yes, dad. I'm just....*egff* fine the way I am..." he grunted as another gush of
cold sweat poured off his straining face.

That set Johnny off the deep end. He glared fiercely up at Lance's father and said....

------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Photo:  A high school football field.

Photo:  A jeering bleacher's crowd in closeup.

Photo:  Coaches treating a wind knocked, stunned player.

Photo:   A spilled chocolate shake.

Photo:  An ice cream soaked Roy.

Photo:  Cap ordering police on an HT by a concessions stand.

Photo:  Johnny looking up from treatment at someone above.

Photo:  An angry inner city man outside, glaring.

***************************************************
From: Patti or Jeff or Cassidy <theaterhost@voyagerliveaction.com> 
Date: Wed Aug 10, 2005  8:44 am 
Subject: The Winning Combination.. 
 

"Stoker, take over for me on his mask." Then he rose
to his feet, pointing angrily at Lance's step dad. 
"Listen mister! If this pain goes on much longer, shock's gonna set
in worse than it has already and the circulation to this leg's gonna stop
completely and there'll be no chance in h*ll then to save it!  Let us do 
our jobs! Is your pride over looking weak worth your son's future?!" 
Johnny growled up at him.

"He ain't gonna die, fireman. Even I know that. Not while you're still here. 
I know how paramedics work. And besides that, a broken leg never kills 
unless fever sets in." demanded the massively tall man.

Johnny tried to go over the truth of the danger of Lance possibly
having a torn femoral artery again but Cap held up his hand to hush him.

The frightened boy on the ground sighed under the demand valve
as Mike eased his head back for easier breathing. "Dad,..*gasp*
I tried to be what you wanted to be.. but now this has happened.."
Lance swallowed around the bile in his throat. "No one can be perfect 
in the game, dad. Don't you see? We've had two chances to live
a dream. But now it's over.. Pleas--please.. Let them help me..
I don't wanna be crippled. I don't wanna end up like y--..."

"Shut up, boy! It's not over until I say it is!" shouted the step father.

Right then, Vince Howard, his partner, and four other officers arrived 
in three squad cars. He sized up the situation in moments when Gage
gave him a significant glance at Lance's grossly swollen leg and the
drug box.

Vince barked with all the authority he had. "Fireman Gage, is this boy's
life endangered?"

"His leg is. This gentleman here is keeping us from treating his son
with anti-shock medication. If Lance's pressure falls into black out
levels, the leg will start dying." he said truthfully.

"Treat him. He's now under police department protective custody.."

"What?!" spat the step father. "You can't do that.."

"I just did. Or would you rather face reckless child endangerment 
and parental neglect charges in front of a board of inquiry?" Vince 
shouted back. "My other officers can see what's going on here clearly 
enough. They'll be my witnesses to the judge about your lack of 
judgement on providing humane care to a minor under your 
responsibility." the officer shouted back, just as street sharp.

The gang didn't know whether or not Lance's dad backed down because 
Vince was his own nationality or because he had finally thought things 
through as he felt up the permanent brace he wore on his left leg. But 
step back he did, and he broke away all eye contact with the officers 
and the kneeling firefighters.

They got to work.

Roy quickly got another blood pressure reading on Lance. "80/50, Johnny.
I'm leaving this pumped up for an I.V. stick. I got the MS right here."

"Right.." and Johnny ignored Lance's father as he directed his crewmates
on applying the Hare traction splint swiftly. "Lance.. once this goes on,
the pain will lessen significantly once the bone's put back into better 
alignment. Just hang on. "

"...O..ok.." said the boy.

"Ok, Cap. Start cranking on that knob until I tell you to stop." Johnny ordered.

Roy made a hasty call to Rampart. "...Doc, we've got a badly fractured 
femur complicated by muscle cramping due to severe pain. Circulation's 
twenty percent at best. Request permission for some MS a.s.a.p. to calm 
our patient down before applying pull on the traction splint. He's shocky
with a systolic pressure around 80."

Dr. Early asked a question. ##What's the nature of the break?##

Roy replied, "It's closed, Rampart, but convoluted from an excessive tackle
in a high school level football game." the paramedic told him to let him 
know the forces involved.

Joe mulled over that. ##Do we have parental consent?##

Hurriedly, the now cowed father nodded briskly, aware that his honor 
and reputation were now risked in a more binding, legal way.

Roy sighed. "We do."

##Go ahead with ten milligrams morphine sulfate, 51, into an I.V., half 
Ringer's Lactate, half Normal Saline,.. set to wide open. Monitor his 
breathing rate closely and support him on one hundred percent 02 if 
necessary. Let me know when the traction splint becomes effective in 
returning the leg's normal blood flow. Then transport as soon as possible. 
I'll have a vascular and an orthopedic surgeon standing by when you 
get here. If his vitals don't improve promptly, place him in antishock 
trousers and inflate only the chambers over his abdomen and the good 
leg until he regains 90 systolic at the minimum or higher. And I want a 
set of new vitals every five minutes.##

"Already drawn up, doc. 10 milligrams MS I.V. into a Ringer's Normal Saline
bag. Anti-shock trousers on stand by for possible use to regain low normal. 
10-4.  I estimate our ETA at fifteen minutes. I'll have a full set of 
vitals once we're moving." DeSoto said.

##10-4, 51. Standing by.##

Roy soon established an I.V. and he began to administer Lance's MS into
the piggy back hub.

Johnny had his hand on Lance's popliteal pulse as Cap and Marco adjusted
the clicking tension on the Hare splint. He halted them when a beat 
appeared under his fingers. "Ok, right there.. right there.." he said. "Lock 
it off."

Lance groaned at the relief of pain from both his narcotic injection and manual 
realignment and his wet face sagged under Stoker's hands, into a numb stupor.

Lance's father started forward in alarm, grabbing his son's sweaty arm in
both his hands. "Lance?!" he choked, his voice now full of worry and
a genuine panic any father would have for his hurt child.

Mike smiled. "He's ok. He's breathing just fine. And look at his leg. It's 
straightened up well. Johnny's getting a good pulse down to his foot now."
he told the man as he watched the American Indian paramedic checking
the splint's settings and straps. 

"No kidding? His leg's fixed now?"

"Not by a long shot. This splint's just a temporary measure until an 
operation to repair the bone with rods and pins can begin." Johnny told 
him.

"That's not like any splint I've ever seen. That one's got a crank or 
something on it. Mine didn't have anything like that when I broke my leg 
in this stadium eighteen years ago when it was applied by the coaches. 
In fact, it didn't help at all and now I'm half the man I was." And the distraught, 
tearing man lifted his pants leg to reveal a steel metal brace strapped 
around his upper leg.

"It's called a Hare traction splint. Remember that when Lance starts walking 
again in a few months after some physical therapy. And the name of the 
medication that released the muscle spasms cutting off your son's leg's 
blood flow. That one's called Morphine. Because together, those two things 
will make sure Lance gets to the surgeon's table in one living piece. He'll 
most likely play football again,....someday. But you're gonna have to be 
more patient with him from now on, and a little more forgiving. Don't push 
him so hard next time, ok?" Gage grinned respectfully.

The step dad said nothing but Gage could see that he was chewing over 
what he was seeing and hearing around him as food for thought.

And when the ambulance attendants started wheeling the boy's stretcher
out across the infield to the waiting Mayfair, both sides of the stadium
suddenly started cheering.

"See?" Roy said to the father as he held up the boy's high flow I.V.
over his pillow out of Stoker's way. "No pride lost at all. I don't think 
they've forgotten all about you yet like you think they have. They know 
a pair of heroes when they see them.  Both the home team and the away's."

================================================================
Subject: And Then There Were Four... :)
From: theaterhost@voyagerliveaction.com
Date: Thursday Aug 11, 2005  11:42 am 
 

Les, Dave, Dixie and Mike Morton were still all alone in the bunkroom
at Station 51, working feverishly. The only difference was that someone 
had kicked on the sleeping room's light switch with a foot while they 
attended the hard birthing Bonnie.

They had been successful untangling the puppies internally 
but no one was smiling. Bonnie lay barely trying so Morton
helped her with an injection of saline into her uterus to stimulate
effective contractions.

Dr. Morton's hands flew. "Here comes the first one. Les, Dave.. take
puppies two and three since you already know how to do this.
Miss McCall, take the first. Your hands will be faster. Dixie, now when 
it's fully born, take the bulb syringe and clean out its nose and mouth
free of fluid by doing the nose first. Then take a towel and rub the puppy
briskly all over. It'll act like CPR and resuscitation all at the same time. 
A puppy this young's still all cartilage.." said the sweating doctor. "...so 
don't worry about hurting it. The harder the better. Its got to start breathing
within a half hour or the mother's surfactant inside of its lungs will dry out 
and kill any hope of further alveolar oxygen/CO2 blood exchange. The pup
needs to be breathing by then to make more of its own."

Dixie rubbed a drip of sweat off her chin with an elbow and got a nest
hammock of towelling draped over her palms by the sandy haired 
LesTaylor. "Gimme.." was all she said at last, pure determination making
hard angles of her face.

The youngest animal control officer put the worried nurse at ease.
"It's easy to revive a newborn, ma'am. Just watch me when I get mine to
get an even better technique once you get started." said Les Taylor.

Dave Gordon smiled when Mike Morton snipped the first limp puppy's
cord and scraped some gloved fingers over the small form to get off the 
placental sac and a lot of the mucous from around the puckered looking 
head. "It's a boy!"

"Here, Dix.. Take him." ordered a brisk Morton. "I've cut and clipped
him off. Whatever you do, don't pull off the umbilical clamp until all the fluid's
done crossing over into him."

Dixie made a deeply unconscious maternal sound. "He's so limp. My g*d,
the poor thing's all distorted." she murmured, teary eyed, working fast
with the blue syringe bulb to get air in a clear string down inside the male
puppy. Two suction pulls later and only air gushed out of the bulb.

Dave reassured her. "He'll shape up. They always look a little crunched
at first." 

"Good. Now pick him up with some stimulation." Morton told her from the 
corner of his eye while he watched and helped Bonnie deliver the second 
puppy's head. He used a pair of blunted scissors to tear open its tougher 
than normal birth sac. Brown green rectal meconium poured out. A sign of a 
difficult birth. "This one's stressed and apneic, too. Les, you get this one. 
You're closer to me."  The second puppy's nails, skin and cord were stained 
a sickly yellow.

"Think rolling bread dough." coached Dave at Dixie, holding her shoulders
while she scrubbed and rubbed the small still pup with the folds of her towel. 
He watched his partner get the second pup into his own nested towel.
Then Dave showed the very jumpy nurse how to safely hang the puppy's 
head down low to drain him out even more. "And drying off one of the kids.
There, just like that. Put a finger on either side of his shoulders like a
whip cream can so he won't fall."

"I don't have any kids.." Dixie said softly. "And this is nothing like that at
all, Mr. Gordon." she said even louder in her fear.

"Okay, picture drying off your own head after a shampoo. It's the same 
motion." soothed the calm officer. "That's right.  See how he's not getting any
paler around the mouth and gums? That's you, acting as his heart and lungs
until he figures things out on his own." Dave told her. "Now, keep it up.
If you get tired, we'll have one of the fire boys take over. I hear them
pulling into the garage."

"Oh, thank goodness. A paramedic when you absolutely want one." Dixie
babbled.

Les Taylor's eyes went up as he worked on his own limp newborn. "Give yourself
credit, Dixie, you're doing a wonderful job. You can't screw up. That one's either
gone already or he'll come back real soon. Just give him time. " Then he cried
in discovery. "Mine's a girl! Hey, sweetheart! Come back to me and mama..!"
he chuckled.

Dixie ignored Les's amused candor. She was all analytic. "Mike, is Bonnie in
danger from all that waste material inside the birth canal?"

"No. Dogs are different than people. At the very most, she'll catch a urinary
tract infection that'll clear up on its own in a couple of days." Morton said, pulling
out the third puppy for Dave and he opened up its placenta like a podded specimen 
with his delivery scissors. "This one's lively. Dave..." he prompted, holding out the 
last pup as it squirmed  and opened its tiny mouth mutely in his glove. "Come take 
her. And yes, I checked proper for gender this time."

Gordon left Dixie's side to gather up his own towel and Morton concentrated
on making sure Bonnie didn't bleed out by massaging her abdomen firmly
while she lay under the oversized pediatric oxygen mask.

"Is she breathing okay?" Dixie asked Dave about the third puppy. 

"Yes, she's trying. I just have to get out some of this fluid so she can talk a little."

A few seconds later and a loud peeping protest erupted from the healthy girl
pup. It acted like a jolt in Bonnie, who shot bolt upright onto trembling legs.

"Easy girl.." Morton told her. "You're not going anywhere until you've finished
the job." Then he used the fact that Bonnie had heard one of her new pups
and tested out a teat. It generated ample colostrum and a little milk. "We'll
give them back to you. Don't worry. We're all friends here..." he said distractedly.
Then he looked up. "Well, her mother's milk is good enough. Dave, give me
your puppy when you're sure she's cleared out. There's nothing like a mother
dog's tongue to do a proper job of drying out dog hair."

Dave gave baby three to the doctor who set the pup to one of Bonnie's nipples
and offered her a squirt after he showed the pup where to find it.

Bonnie immediately was all mother and she finally tolerated the human doctor
fussing down below, checking to see if she had torn herself with the birthing
effort. The newborn puppy started suckling hungrily with strength right away.

Dr. Morton got busy assembling all the parts of the puppies' afterbirth onto
Bonnie's burn sheet.  "Well, for a first time mother, she's thorough. Everything's
here." he announced. "And I'll have no stitching up to do."

Les and Dave sighed in relief but Dixie didn't know what to think, still curled
quietly around her lifeless puppy on Roy's bed, rubbing desperately all along
its wet sides and face.

Les's puppy sprang into weak voice that stereoed the last puppy's cries
still fresh in their memories and she, too, was put to a breast to calm 
under Bonnie's attentions. 

That left Dixie's puppy, still lying limp and nonresponsive despite vigorous
stimulation.

Mike Morton heard the garage door rumble shut. "Gage! DeSoto! Bring the drug
box.. double time!"

Soon, the whole suddenly panicked bunch of firefighters, minus Roy, who had
beelined for the nearest shower, appeared behind Johnny, skidding on the
tiles with the asked for equipment. "She crashing?!" Gage minced.

"No....no. no.." Morton said, putting him at ease. "It's the first pup, the one
that was stuck. Nothing's bringing it around fast enough for me. Grab out a spent
epi from your sharp's bin."

"What?" Johnny gasped. "Can we do that?"

"Sure, why not? I heard you used some on that teenager to boost his breathing
en route to Joe a few minutes ago. Your captain was kind enough to leave 
the scanner on for us to listen to so I know you have that syringe handy. So
crack open that bin and get it out. Time's wasting!" 

For a moment, Gage jumbled with its lid and almost reached inside the
disposal chamber when Cap smacked his shoulder and handed Johnny his
own forceps from his utility holster. "Use these.." snapped Cap. "Clever, doc.
This way Brackett's form happy minions won't ever catch on that we used
epi from our stores in an unauthorized way." 

Morton's head nodded.. "Umm hmm. There's more than enough left
in this syringe to turn this little guy around." he said, fitting a new needle into
the injection hub.

Gage's face flushed with embarrassment that he hadn't thought of that
way to protect himself from a contaminated needle stick. "Well, what
about the I.V. we're using on Bonnie?" he said a little sharply. "Don't
we have to account for that?"

"Got a plan for that, too." said Morton.  "The I.V. fluid
we can account for. Don't be so clumsy next time,
Johnny, you stepped on the bag here without watching, 
and broke it earlier on one of this morning's rescues. I'll file
that incident report myself for the supplies people."

Johnny started sniggering. "Who says you're not the devious type,
doc. You're a sheer genius when it comes right down to it."

"Anytime. Now.. Dix, let me see the little fellow, but don't stop
what you're doing.." Dr. Morton ordered.

The gang crowded around Dixie's towel and tiny charge.

Morton opened the limp puppy's mouth, grasped its tongue
and shot some drops of epinephrine from the recovered syringe
deep into the lingual tissue there.

The reaction was instantaneous. The puppy coughed, wretched,
then pinked up and started breathing weakly after dumping out
a gush of meconium from under his twitching tail.

"Got you!" crowed Les Taylor. 

"Ah, I knew he was a fighter from the start." Dave murmured softly,
admiring the markings on Bonnie's first born son.

Johnny snatched away Bonnie's no longer needed O2 and held
it over the pup's face on blow by. "What liter flow?"

"Four will do. Watch him though." Morton ordered, pointing to
the injected pup. "When he sucks on your finger, Dix,, stop
the rubbing and put him with the other two to nurse. It'll keep Bonnie 
from bleeding out any more. Keep all of them warm. Except Bonnie. She 
needs to cool down or her milk'll fail. I'm going to go wash up.." said 
Morton, peeling off his obstetrical gloves.

Johnny adjusted the mask's flow and handed it off to an eager Kelly,
who took over his place next to Dixie when Gage rose up. "Uh, doc. Roy's
in the shower.. he got a little messy after a run in with some irate fans."

"Is he hurt?"

"No. Just a little ice cream spill over."

Morton's face looked as if he was going to ask a few more details on
that one but he finally chalked it up as another story of the weird and
said. "A sink'll do. I showered before I left work. I'll stick around
long enough to discontinue Bonnie's I.V. But then I got to split.
I've got a hot date tonight.." celebrated Morton.

That made just about everyone do a double take in disbelief
and amazement.

"Dix, you showering after Roy?" Johnny asked finally, after clearing
his throat to get by the stunning announcement.

"Are you kidding? I'm married to the little guy here until I'M sure he's
all right. I'll sleep in my clothes on the couch if I have to." she
promised.

Cap's eyebrows went up. No nurse had ever stayed overnight at
the station before. And for that, he knew he had to make some changes.
"Chet, go rig a tarp in front of the rookie's bunk down there.
And do the same for the spare locker and extra sit down toilet."

"Captain Stanley. You don't have to go through the trouble..." Dixie
began.

"No trouble Miss McCall. You did us all a favor by bringing him." he
said jerking a thumb at Morton's back as he grabbed a few leftover
clean towels to bathe with. "..so the least we can do is feed ya and
offer you a place to sleep tonight if it comes down to that... or is Bonnie
and her puppies relocating to the V-E-T-S before then?" he asked Les
and Dave.

Les picked up the phone next to the bedside radio station 
that reached an outside line. "I don't know. Let's find out. It's way after
three p.m. The doc's in now."

All of them gathered around Dixie and her furry brand new patient
and around Bonnie to satisfy their worry that all was now truly well.


Dave soon gave Sandy, the shelter receptionist, the good news
and was on the line to the man he most wanted to talk to right then.
"Heya, doc. It's done. Three live pups with no complications on 
the mother. The human M.D. did a fine job and only needed fractional epi
on one of them. Do you want to see the whole bunch now?"

Doc Coolidge chuckled. ##Nah, why bug them? We'd just be disturbing the
mother/puppy bonding stages. A whole firehouse crew, a nurse and
two paramedics are plenty to monitor and succor to them. Tell me
the play by play when you get back here after supper..##

"Supper?"

##Yeah, sure.. Use some of your animal rescue clout and make those boys
over there to feed ya real good. After all, this emergency squad call of yours 
will be free of charge. My gift to the men in tan for a job well done. Tell
them they can get a free check up for her and her pups from me in
a couple of days.##  

"I'll tell them, doc. And I'll have my report on your desk by sun up."
Then Dave hung up and addressed all the firemen and the seated nurse.
"Doc says a checkup's not necessary right away since things went
just fine all things considering. He's offering to check them out for
nothing in forty eight hours. All you have to do is swing on by."

"Wow, that's terrific." said Hank. "Can we offer you boys some
barbecue? It's Stoker's night for KP and he's already started grilling.
Dixie, same offer extends to you. Marco, go see if Dr. Morton's got
time to chow before he heads out. I don't know of one hospital resident
who can't pack away more than one meal when given the chance. They
all just plain work too hard not to be able to do it."

Marco headed off to ask him.

======================================================

Lopez peeked his head into the bathroom where Morton was
lathered up like a surgical scrub down. "Doc, what time's your date
at?"

"Ten p.m. We're going to the late show." replied Mike.

"The dinner table's open. Ribs. Are you game before you leave?"

"You have to ask? And I'll bring my raging appetite, too.
Thanks Marco."

Marco nodded and turned to leave. "Hey Roy!" he shouted over
the rush of steaming water in the shower stall.

"What's the matter? Is it Bonnie? I'll be right there."

"Relax, pal. She's fine. She delivered two girls and a boy who came
back with only a little puppy CPR and leftover epinephrine from the trash."

"Glad to hear it. Bonnie's a real trooper. I wasn't worried at all."

::Sure you weren't.:: Marco thought privately. ::You would've stayed
sticky with chocolate malt in defiance of Cap for the next run if he
hadn't've put his foot down to get presentable, in order to be there for her 
delivering.:: "I'll go set the table. Our four guests are staying to eat."

"Ok. I'll grab out more soda from the cooler in the yard when I'm done
changing..." bubbled DeSoto under the hot water.

================================================================
Subject: A Home For Each...
From: theaterhost@voyagerliveaction.com
Date: Friday Aug 12, 2005  1:52 pm 

It was two hours later in the depths of early evening.

"Come on fellas. You've stopped stuffing your faces so drink up some 
of this soda. The case Roy brought in's already starting to get warm.
What's the matter? You got a sudden aversion to carbonated prune 
juice or something? Hmmm, this is yummy.."

No one even looked at her from where they sat burping or reading
or playing checkers. So Dixie improvised, trying to get some bodies 
as thirsty as she was."Drink Dr. Pepper,..BE-eeee a pepper... " croon 
sang Dixie, to the others while sipping on hers. "Well, maybe not you. 
You're still on just the soft stuff." she babytalked to the snoring scruffy 
coated puppy nestled in her arms inside the shock blanket.
"I think I'll call you, Max. You're definitely gonna be mine after all I 
went through trying to save you." she murmured. 

The guys didn't protest. Gage smiled as he turned off Max's
wafting oxygen source. He had just finished drifting 
over for the fifteenth time to monitor his hind leg pulse.

Dixie smiled. "Hey, check this out. Little Max thinks I'm Bonnie 
or something and he's looking for some insta-dinner. Isn't that 
the cutest thing you ever saw?"

He was just barely visible in between all of Dixie's curves.

Johnny's grip on the regulator valve slipped and the tank key
clanged loudly against metal on its chain when he dropped it 
as Gage contained his shock and surprise at the casually 
mentioned observation.

Every male in the room ( except Morton ) suddenly found themselves 
studying the walls, the ceiling, the floor, anywhere....but towards the 
couch.  ( Nothing humanly body functional...ever surprised a doctor. )

Johnny started in awkwardly, thick with embarrassment, 
when Dixie finally decided to shift Max to her shoulder for a 
cuddle. "So u-uhhh.. *cough* What are we gonna name the other 
two? I mean, Dixie's got dibs on him. Uhh, congratulations to you." he
said deadpan. He looked everywhere but at Dixie as he spoke.

"Why thank you, Johnny..." McCall demurred. "He's definitely the best
of the bunch."

Chet piped up, the first fireman to sound somewhat normal in several 
seconds. "I dunno, Johnny. Whatever names we decide on, I guess. 
Maybe we should make em the epitamy of cuteness so that they'll be 
sure to adopt out when it comes time to give em away or sell them."

"You got a dog allergy like Mama Lopez or something there, Kelly?
That's why Marco can't take one. His mother'd only get sick." Cap 
asked."Why don't you take one of the girl pups for yourself? All I 
know is that I can't myself. My wife would kill me."

"Mine, too." piped up Roy.

"Oh, no..." Kelly evaded."You guys aren't gonna stick me with doing
this. My cat Bruno will eat that tiny ball of fuzz for lunch. He doesn't
tolerate having other animals around. At all."

Gage laughed lightly. "Nor any of his dates either.." he joked, letting
the others in on a little secret.

"Very funny, Gage. But uh,, speaking of the subject, you're a bachelor. 
Why don't YOU take one of Bonnie's puppies home?"

Johnny became uncomfortable, now that the tables were turned.
"A puppy'd only get lonely for sure at my house. I'd be outside minding
the ranch all the time and besides....I'd .. probably'd never 
remember to feed her on time. I'm just too dog-goned busy
with my horses for that kind of thing." 

The guys didn't relent in their disbelieving stares. Chet shrugged
"Is that a pun, Johnny? If so, it wasn't a very good one."

Gage went on babbling and pretending that he never even heard
Kelly's jab. "I swear I only go inside the house to sleep."

"Among other activities.." Chet implied with innuendo. "You're
not always alone, Johnny." said Kelly, revealing a little secret of
his own.

Johnny stabbed Chet with a glare to silence him but Dixie caught onto
Chet's implied observation and laughed richly. 

Gage was stung.

Dave Gordon raised his hand. "I'll take the third born. I kinda feel like 
she's half mine already. My heart strings are already getting pulled 
too hard to ignore." he admitted. "She's definitely woven
her spell on me, the little witch. I think I'll call her Sabrina."

"Glad you joined my adopt a puppy club.." Dixie said, raising her pop 
can into the air.

"Anytime.." Dave replied, lifting his own in a toast to match.

"That leaves one puppy left." Kelly tallied. "Uh..."

"The last's a girl, Chet. Wanna check again?" Gordon said,
moving Bonnie and her basket of babies a little closer to
them on the kitchen table.

Marco spoke up. "You know I can't take her. Like Cap said, 
my mama's deathly allergic. How about we check to see if there's a 
still a fire station around who doesn't have a mascot yet? A puppy'd 
be the perfect thing for any crew to have to baby to death to burn off 
excess stress on the job." 

"I don't think there is one." Hank said. "Boot's done a lot making 
everybody want a dog just by his visiting their stations. So that's 
what they all went out and did. They each got a dog.  And as I recall, 
the chief brags constantly at meetings that there isn't a single solitary 
firehouse in the whole county that Boot hasn't yet influenced in that way. 
McConnike swears up and down that we were his absolute last stop 
when he arrived for that cliff top rescue two years ago."

Gage stared at the garage in utter amazement. "Why that sneaking
little ball of fur..."

"Not so little.." Roy intoned.

Johnny ignored him. "If I had known two years ago that I'd be forking 
out thirty dollars a year in dog food expenses, I never would've even 
started scratching those flea bitten ears of his.  And now there's this 
fatherhood thing he has with Bonnie. I wonder if he even knows he 
HAS any puppies."

Roy smiled. "I'm sure he does, Johnny. He does get around. Who knows
how many Boots are running wild through the streets of L.A. by now. I'm
surprised that none of us even guessed what he was up to."

"How do you mean?" Johnny asked Roy.

"What better way to guarantee his own survival than to train us firemen to take
in station mascots for him to play with. Especially if they're females ones."
DeSoto grinned.

Morton started laughing. "And I thought I held the market for possessing 
a high grade of cleverness. Boot definitely had all of us fooled. Right from 
day one, I hear?" he teased the firecrew. 

They pointedly ignored him.

Morton was nonplussed. 
"I still can't believe you fellows didn't even realize that Bonnie was pregnant."

"Did she look pregnant to you?" Johnny and Roy asked the Rampart folks
simultaneously.

"Yes." replied both Dixie and Morton.

Dixie chortled. "And you two call yourselves paramedics... How could
you miss her belly settling? She was practically dragging the floor with
it when she walked." McCall said, returning Max to his anxiously
waiting furry mother. He already wore a ribbon in his hair, like Bonnie's.
Only it was blue.

Morton grew serious faced. "Uh, boys. I wouldn't let Brackett find out
for all the world about your little slip up. He just might sic Craig Brice on
the both of you for some retraining in the paramedic skills canine lab."

Roy and Johnny paled.

Mike Morton let them off the hook by bursting into a huge toothy
smile with a guffaw bellowed out at the top of his lungs. "I'm
joking, guys. Got ya, good."

The others fell into a giggle fit.

Morton went on. "And before you ask. Pets aren't allowed
where I live."

"Same here." said Les Taylor, the blond headed animal 
control officer.

Chet wiped tears of mirth out of his eyes. "That leaves one left
to speak up.  Mike.. what's your excuse for not taking the last pup?"

All eyes turned to Mike Stoker.

The soft spoken fire engineer didn't move in his chair. His answer
slammed them all into complete silence. "I don't like dogs.."
came his reply. Even as he petted the snoozing Bonnie's head.

"Why ever not?" Gage asked incredulously. "Dogs are great.."

Hank said. "Stoker, you've absolutely stunned us flat with that kind
of remark. Care to reiterate?"
 
Mike Stoker lifted suddenly sad eyes and said..
 
************************************************** 
Subject: A Call For Help...
From: theaterhost@voyagerliveaction.com
Date: Saturday Aug 13, 2005  12:31 am 

"Whenever I've gotten a dog in the past, something
bad always happened to me. I guess.. I ...sort of ...built 
up a negative association with dogs that's now become
impossible to ignore. I know this sounds stupid and even 
a bit crazy. I've tried to get over it, but I find that I can't." 
he replied. "Not even for a moment.."

Cap was matter of fact, "A defensive mechanism?"

"Maybe.." agreed Roy, analyzing.

"And Mike is the shyest of the shy at times. It makes 
sense." Hank angled in.

"A man of few words.." murmured Chet.

"But big on heart." Morton added.

"Mike why didn't you share this with us before?" 
asked Marco. "That's what friends are for. We never would
have agreed to keep Bonnie, or Henry or even Boot for
his few weeks of visiting for that matter for one single minute,
if it meant that you'd feel any pain by having them near you."

"Amen to that.." snapped Cap wholeheartedly.

Mike Stoker studied the floor, but one hand strayed to
Max, to keep tactile tabs on his shallow napping breaths.
"Forget I even said anything. Guys, I ..don't know what to
tell you about it."

"You don't have to." said Dixie with sudden conviction. 
Her tone was all friend and not even a hint of nurse colored it.
"Sometimes, there are things people have to keep to themselves
in spite of everything else."

That made Stoker stand up, unusually uncomfortable.
"Ok. I'll take her home with me."

"Are you sure?" Cap asked, angling his head. "Wasn't
that rather sudden?"

"No, it wasn't. And yes, I'm sure. Maybe she'll get me over 
this negativism I have once I grow to love her like I do all 
my hutch rabbits."

"You have hutch rabbits?" Chet chortled with a laugh.

Gage smacked him.

Stoker ducked his head shyly but then he grinned.
"I do. They're the best pets in the world, Chet, I'll have you
know. And they'll never ever claw you to death like your cat
does to you whenever you p*ss him off with the garden hose
when you shoot it at his window." Stoker said with a smile.

"I do not!"

"You do, too. I see you do it whenever you have me over
and you think I'm still just sleeping in the hammock."

He made a graceful exit to the armchair that Cap had vacated
and retreated behind the entertainment section of the newspaper.

"Why that shy little snitch..." Chet grinned. "I had no idea he
was watching me."

"Have you ever heard of a fireman engineer who stopped watching 
a fellow firefighter?" quipped Cap.

"No.." Kelly answered.

"There you go. Stop looking so surprised then." Roy said with
a smile. "So now you know that Mike Stoker never stops watching 
anyone he cares about. Something we all learned about years
ago."

"Yeah, all except you, apparently.." Gage mocked at Chet
with a predator's smile.

Chet made a face at his still gathered tormentors.

---------------------------------------------------------------------------

On the wall, the outside line payphone, started ringing.

Dixie sprang up off the couch and scooped up Max joyfully
in a short dance of happiness. "I'll get it..." She positively floated
to the phone, giddy with the idea of having adopted a shaggy
mini version of a Boot/Bonnie combination. "Los Angeles County
Fire Department. This is Nurse Dixie McCall. How may I help you?"
she asked shifting the whimpering Max to a shoulder to soothe him.
The smile on her face instantly wiped away and disappeared into
a haunted, barely contained mask of shock. "Honey.. honey, can 
you still hear me? Please, whatever you do, ..don't hang up.. I'm 
not going anywhere, ok?"

That attracted everyone's attention instantly and they all started
speaking at once, asking questions. Dixie silenced them desperately
and mouthed two totally silent words, "Suicide attempt.."

Cap dashed out of the kitchen, "I'll let the phone company know."

"Get Detective Crockett, too, Cap." Gage urged in a whisper. "He's
got our district on shift tonight."

"I know! He's gonna know second. Now shhHHH!" he hissed back. "Give
Dixie your pocket pad and pen so she can take notes!" he ordered.

Johnny stayed with Dixie, crouching cautiously near the receiver in
her ear so he could make out their conversation as it happened.
He handed over a green pen and pointed to his back so Dixie
could start writing, using him as a desktop. Max, he put into
her shirt pocket, having no better place to put him where
he wouldn't cry out for Dixie's body warmth.

The guys split up. And Roy went to the phone in the bunks room with 
Morton so that they could eavesdrop in on the conversation to see how
far the caller had actually gone into harming himself or herself by listening
to how they sounded.

Marco went to the communications alcove and put the station out
of service for an off site still alarm suicide attempt via phone call.
Something that headquarters might be able to trace on their end.

Chet got a chair for Dixie and set it down for her to sit on. Then he
freed Johnny up by carrying over an end table after setting its lamp
onto the floor. Dixie immediately started scribbling, using its new
conveniently horizontal surface as a desk.

In a sudden thought, Kelly ran out into the garage and opened the night
doors so police negotiators and Detective Crockett could enter without 
ringing the visitor's doorbell.

Johnny read what was on Dixie's paper. 

..Female. Younger than fifteen by the quality of her voice. 
Maybe fourteen. No other sounds except windchimes and a 
bird of some kind...

"A bird?" Johnny mouthed.

Dixie nodded. "A nice sounding one. A nightingale or a mockingbird
or something expensive.." she whispered, then aloud she shouted.
"I'm listening honey. What's your name?"

##I'm....not dumb...enough to...tell you that. I... I just called in order to 
have someone to talk to... Only you.....aren't him...Why couldn't you have
been him? To...tonight ..of all nights..## said the unseen,
groggy sounding girl. "Oh,... I feel ...so sick.... I shouldn't've-" There came
the sound of vomiting and it was a fairly long time before Dixie heard
the sounds of the girl's difficult breathing again.

Dixie didn't waste time reestablishing dialogue to dig for information.
She opted on delaying long enough for a trace to be successful.
"Who's him? Can you tell me his name? Hello? Who's the one you 
wanted to speak to tonight?"

Johnny mouthed two words. "Stall her." and threw his hands apart
in a growing expanding gesture. 

Dixie nodded in an exaggerated, irritated, I know that already move.

They could both hear Cap on his private office line with the phone
company, setting up a trace to their kitchen phone's number echoing
quietly through the vehicle bay and a twin voice from Lopez, setting up
the slower second trace via L.A.. over the station's alcove mic.

##...Mike..... Mike Stoker..## sighed the weak voice answering Dixie's
question.

Dixie's eyes flashed panic. 
..Should he get on the phone?..
she wrote in a panic.
..Where is he?..  

"I know him. He's a good friend of mine.
And yes, he's still here.....working.." Dixie told the girl. "But
he's out of the room. Can you hold on a moment while I find
him?"

Gage wrote back on a pad that Chet gave him from his pocket.
..He went to move the engine into the driveway to run her hot if
we can trace this call and find out where she is.. He'll be right back..

##No tricks.. What's your....name?##

"Dixie. What's yours?" she tried again, while Johnny hugged his
head near hers to listen in.

##Uh uh. No clues. I'll only talk to him... I know him.... See?" gasped
the girl. ##Put him on... Now..## demanded the short of breath caller.
## I...I don't think I have much....time left..##

Gage scribbled a furious suggestion. ..Tell her he's hanging hose
and that it'll be a few minutes while he climbs down for the phone..
It's dark outside..

Dixie told her.

##Ok,... I'll wait ...those couple of... minn.. utes..  But no more! I don't 
...trust you, yet, Dixie...*gasp* Only him..##

------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Morton sat still and contemplative next to Roy where they were at
the little writing desk in the bunkroom. The tiny lamp was on
and an HT was in Roy's lap already connected to Cap's in the office.

And he was listening intently. He had already unscrewed the talking
microphone in the mouthpiece of the dial out phone receiver 
so that he and Dr. Morton wouldn't be overheard by Dixie or the girl.

"Does this happen very often?" Morton asked DeSoto. 

"Not very often. This is maybe the third time it's happened since I
started in the department. And all three of those calls came to this
station. Enough for us to develop our own game plan on how to try 
and handle it..." said a paling Roy. "It's ironic though."

"What is?" asked the Rampart doctor. "You okay?"

"Yeah, I'm fine. It's just that Johnny and I were going to take our new 
"suicide call to the station" protocol ideas to the fire department 
board of directors tommorrow on our mutual day off. So we could
fine tune things for just this kind of worse case scenario."

Morton nodded in sympathy. "She sounds bad.."

"Yeah. There's no denying that this isn't real. Do you think it's pills?"

"No. She's speaking too lucidly for that. Dixie can't seem to trick her
into releasing any information here."

"Natural gas?" Roy guessed again, grasping at straws.

"No, we're not hearing any hissing in the background. Anyone who
wants to die that way usually sits in the same room as the source.
Besides, that bird singing in the background would've asphyxiated 
long before she'd even START to feel the effects of that."

"The minehole canary idea?"

"My modern day version of one.." Morton remarked darkly.

"I don't think I like the way your mind thinks, doctor. It's too morbid."

"Sorry, I was trained to think clinically, using symptoms. And right
now, her symptoms are too vague to pin anything on." Morton
said. "I'm stuck with pure suppositions."

"Let's concentrate here. Maybe her breathing pattern'll match
something. We know she's already vomited enough to sound
projectile."

"A chemical irritant..." Morton agreed.

"Right. With no head injury. Ruled out and refuted. Again, 
due to the current level of her talking ability. So no gunshot
wounds there or ...." Roy thought hard.

"But what about a knife? She could be bleeding to death.."
Morton asked. "Slashed wrists? Could she be a cutter?"

"Nah, bleeders never vomit, not until near the end." Roy said.

"Now who's getting morbid?"

"Doctor, let's keep our Sherlock Holmes/ Dr. Watson observations
to ourselves and start paying closer attention here. This girl's 
life's in danger."

"I haven't forgotten that for a moment, Roy. Let's keep listening and
see what Johnny and Dixie can come up with.."

**************************************************
Subject: Birds Of A Feather.....
From: theaterhost@voyagerliveaction.com
Date:  Sunday  Aug 14, 2005  08:06 am 


Dixie was beside herself physically, but emotionally, she 
instilled false calm into her voice, an ability born only of
long years spent working in the medical field. "Can you tell
me how you're feeling?"

##Why should you care? You don't even know me..##

"I'm here at the fire station." Dixie countered. "If I didn't
care about helping people, why would I stay here to
answer the phone even a single day?"

But backward logic seemed lost on the suiciding girl
and growing beyond her. ##What?!## and she screamed
in overwhelming pain. 

To Dixie, it sounded like someone who had crippling 
abdominal pain."Hey! Tell me what's wrong.. Is it because 
of something you ate? Maybe I can do something for you!"

##You'll only tell mom and she'll tell my shrink and then I'll
end up in the hospital again with a bunch of people who get
paid trying to figure out what's going on inside my head. 
I know ...how you nurses ...work..## she panted. ##You only
push paper and ....give shots and never ever do you really
get to .....know the people you treat. Oh!## the girl wailed.
## I hurt.!! It's not supposed to hurt this ...bad.##

"Tell me. What did you do?" 

There was no reply. 

"Hey, listen to me. Are you alone?" 

Again, came only the sound of shuddering half breaths.

"Is there anybody with you?" McCall asked.

##No one to care...## sighed the pain wracked girl. ##Just
Raphael..and he always cheers me..*gasp* Do you hear him?
He's my ....dearest pet. ## she said through a slurred haze. ##Mom 
travels.. you see, and she's never home for me when I need her.
I hate being alone by myself in such a big house...## she wailed.

---------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Captain Stanley met Detective Crockett at the door, who asked.
"How long has she been on the line?"

"Just under five minutes. She's on the payphone in the kitchen."
Hank replied.

"A payphone, huh? That's gonna make things a little more
difficult for the phone company to trace. Public communications
cabling has checks and balances and other security systems to thwart 
just exactly what we're trying to do here." said Crockett. "It's not anything
that was planned for in the designs. It just turned out that way because
the phone companies are now out to protect themselves and their
businesses these days."

"My man, Roy, one of my paramedics, has an open HT to a voice
pickupless speaker phone in the bunkroom. They've been listening in..." 
said Cap and he turned up the volume of his handy talkie. 

"Have you been able to determine the method she's using?"
the African American police detective wanted to know.

Hank's face fell. "No. Not yet. Whatever she's doing. It's bad enough."

The two men froze, listening to Dixie's desperate dialogue with the
troubled, isolated girl and caught the scream that made both of
them wince in horror.

"Ok, captain. Me and my men will take it from here. You get your man Stoker
talking to her as soon as possible. Make him use her payphone only.
As we learn clues, I'll put out squad cars in a grid around the immediate 
neighborhood. That way we might get close by enough to respond in time 
to reach her." said the man. "Increased numbers is the idea.."

"And buy us time to get there with our rescue squad once your officers 
find her. Ok.. What do you want us to do?" asked Stanley.

"Listen close, here's the plan..." said Crockett.

-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

"So you live in a big house. What is it? A mansion? Or simply a big
split level bungalow?" McCall plugged.

##Definitely...a ...bung.. An- and the only thing I ....like.. here is... that
Raphael can watch the sun come up every morning because we're so 
high up..##

-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Crockett snapped his fingers as Cap turned the volume down low again.
"She sounds close. Within a couple of miles or so. Camden Bluffs is the 
only house neighborhood I know of in your area that's on clifftops."

"Mike Stoker would know more about this. He lives out that way.." said
Cap. Hank shouted. "Mike, front and center!" 

A pale, worried Stoker ran in from the driveway. "I pulled up the squad,
too, Cap."

"Good. Now get ready. Yes, you're gonna be talking to this girl. From
the kitchen. But first, tell us about Camden Bluffs. How many houses are 
up there?"

"Is that where she says she's from?" Stoker asked.

"Not specifically."answered Crockett. "We're just guessing. She sounds 
very near. There isn't the usual city static sound of distance on the line.
She doesn't sound tinny. Not even a little bit. We think she's in the vicinity
of the Camden neighborhood because she says she lives in a bungalow
high up."

"There's around sixty houses up there. I live on the outskirts on the east
side..." said Mike.

"East, did you say?" broke in Crockett.

"Yeah, why?"

"This girl said that the view was the only thing she liked about her
house, because Raphael could watch the sunrise from the window."

"Who's Raphael?"

Crockett gestured absently.. "Oh, just a family pet..."

--------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------


What does she do?" Dixie asked the girl. "Your mother..."

## Her job's......not im--p portant. Dixie, I thought you said...
th-- I was.##

"You are, hon. Please don't forget that already. Your mother
might not be there but know that I am, ok? Tell me what you
like to do...." McCall stalled.

##Where's Mike..? Y-You promised that he'd be there. Or did
you lie to me?!## she gasped.

"He's here! Don't hang up. I'll get him to hurry up... Mike!
I need you on the phone, now!"

Mike Stoker ran into the kitchen at a jog. His face was gray
with fright and in his hand, he held an HT with Stanley's name
on it.

Dixie showed Mike her notes with her last question asked
written on it , encircled thickly with ink. Stoker took the phone
from Dixie and repeated it.  "Tell me what you like to do."

##Is that you, Mike?## 

"It's me." he said simply. 

##Oh,..I'm so...glad. * cough* I was too chicken
to talk to you directly earlier ....t-today..##

---------------------------------------------------------------------------

Cap looked up in shock. "Mike had her on the phone
this afternoon?!"

"Did she speak for long? The phone company may have
a recording of it. They always record what calls go into
fire stations, for obvious reasons." the policeman said.

"No, he said that he heard no voices. That it was a hang up."

"About what time was that?" Crockett asked.

"Oh, about five minutes before we got the high school 
leg injury call."

"That's a lead! I'm on it. Is your man Marco still on the air with
L.A.?"

"Yes. I told him to stand by with a live channel in case we 
needed to patch in to this girl remotely." Hank answered.

"Ok, get set for the next stage. I'm going to find that recording's 
calling number's imprint.. Give me three minutes.."

"That's up to her.." sighed Cap as the passionate 
detective left his office at a dead run.

----------------------------------------------------------------------------------


##I make...things. From...th- the garden.## sighed the girl.

"Ah, do you mean you bake from it?" Stoker asked shakily.

##No, silly. Don't you remember? I craft from it. J-Jewelry and
stuff. Didn't you get my ..my present? I ....sent it through the mail
to your .....stationhouse. ##

Like a heavy shot to the heart, Mike remembered. "Gage."
he hissed. "There's a package from her that I got yesterday.
I haven't opened it yet. It's sitting on the wall over my bunk.
I moved it to get it out of the way for a nap and forgot all about it.
It's got to have an address on it at least!"

Johnny ran.

--------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Dr. Morton and Roy were still listening for clues when Gage
burst into the room and skidded out on the floor tiles onto his
butt.

"Johnny! You ok?" DeSoto shouted. Together he and Morton
got him to his feet but he quickly broke out of their double grasp.

"I've got to get to it."

"Get to what?" Morton asked.

"Mike's package. The girl on the phone sent it to him! It's right
there!"

---------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Mike Stoker heard the sound of wretching and it was followed by
the sounds of a short seizure. "Hey.. are you ok? Talk to me..."

The thrashing ceased.

"Talk t--"

##I'm...st- here. But I'm sooo scared, Mike. It's got blood in it.." she
sobbed.

"What does? From what you threw up?" Stoker asked.

"No, the ....other way..." and she began to cry.

"Diarrhea?"

"Yeah. And I can't ...go anymore. I haven't for two hours.." she cried.

-----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Morton and Roy met in close conference over the bunk desk,
thinking. "Renal failure? Intestinal blood?" DeSoto listed her
symptoms. 

"It's got to be an organic poison of some kind.." Morton guessed.

Johnny Gage slammed the box down and snatched for the mail 
opener. "There's no postmark or return address."
He grabbed Roy's HT. "Mike? I'm opening it!" he yelled into it.

He got a clickback in return.

The two paramedics and doctor quickly pulled off the neat brown
wrapping and got to a white paper box, hand drawn in colored 
marker, filled with ornate designs of garden flowers
and butterflies: a child's work. Then they got down to tissue paper
and a carefully wrapped bundle that was meant for the engineer.

Gage ripped it open and a necklace made of natural materials
fell into their laps.

Morton snatched it up, staring. "Are you thinking what I'm thinking,
Roy?"

"Yeah,... aren't those seed pods on that string castor beans?"

Gage held his breath. "Oh, that poor girl. Ricin! Her mother must
have some adult plants growing in the garden. If she's bitten into
even one of those seeds..."

"Let's go tell the others.." Morton commanded.

-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

"They couldn't get it. She wasn't on long enough for them to
trace from the recording this afternoon." Crockett told Cap 
when he had returned from the receiving alcove. 

"Let's check and see how the others are doing then, shall we?" 
Hank said. "I refused to believe that we are plumb out of options.
Things just don't ever work out that way."

--------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Morton, Roy, Johnny, Cap and Detective Crockett all
got into the kitchen as rapidly as they could. They entered fast
but quietly, so as not to disturb the trembling Mike, who was
still on the phone with the still living soon to be dead girl if
they didn't find out where she was located in time.

"Beans.. Ask her about the beans.." Morton told Stoker
with no preamble. He waved the necklace in front of his face.

Stoker noticed that the doctor wasn't holding the necklace
with his bare hands. He had it clutched in a pillow case to
protect his skin. "I will.." he squeaked.

Captain Stanley noticed. "Doctor, are those dangerous to us?"

"No, the poison only causes local skin reactions in this form.
It can only spread by being inhaled, injected or ingested. Mike,
find out how many she swallowed..." 

Dixie added. "Oh, no..these have no anti-toxin.."

"Then what do we do once we get there?" Johnny asked intently.

"Treat the symptoms and wait it out. A stomach pump would
be more than nice.  Are you fellows issued one?" Morton
wondered.

"No."

Crockett spoke up quickly. "Don't worry. You'll have one yesterday. 
I'll radio one of my officers and get one from Rampart immediately. 
Whereever we all end up, he can just meet us there with it. " and Crockett 
ran out of the room back to Marco Lopez's dispatch radio to get it done.
"Give me the hospital's exact address. I may know where it is
but that officer might not know it."

"1000 West Carson Street, in Torrance!" Captain Stanley shouted
after him.


Mike Stoker was about to ask the girl about the pods she
had taken when a beautiful canary burst out into full voice on
the phone at a flare of heat lightning that flashed both
over the station and over the girl's clifftop house. 

His face went white as a sheet. 
"A canary?  Is Raphael a pet canary?"

##.....yes....he's so beautiful.. He's my yellow angel. Always
there to keep me saf---## the girl broke off when she slipped
into another convulsion.

Stoker shoved the receiver back into Dixie's hands.
"Cap, I think I know where she is! There's a white house above
mine to the left about a quarter of a mile. I swear to G*d when
the wind is right, I can hear a canary in the mornings. And
windchimes...."

"Can you take us there, pal?" Hank asked.

"In a heartbeat.."

--------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Station 51, with a vanguard of two squad cars, one bearing
Crockett, the other bearing a stomach pump and nasogastric
tray from the hospital soon wailed through the night towards
a fourteen year old girl on the brink of death.

Mike Stoker was beside himself so Cap did one thing more
while his engineer drove fast, breaking the speed limit
with permission. "L.A., Engine 51. Patch my station's live phone
through to my HT unit three, priority band one, over all units. 
Notify Battalion of the override! Clear all frequencies on Tach 
5 at 101.8 ! We need an immediate link to our suicide attempt."

## 10-4, Engine 51. You have the band now at 20:07... Mark.##

L.A.'s soothing baritone left the air and soon, the joyful canary's
confused song over the lightning, returned. Chet Kelly held
the HT over Mike's mouth as he drove the Ward towards
the block above his house.

"Hey,.. listen to me." Stoker shouted over the engine's sirens, until
Cap flicked them off. The two flanking squad cars and the
preceding rescue squad, holding Morton, Roy and Johnny
were more than enough to ensure their safety
on the dark road in front of them. "Are you still there?"

## ...*moan* It's...over soon, Raphael. We'll show mom that
it's never..... ever..right to abandon me at home for ....weeks at
a time. I'm so...lonely now. It's nice to know you're there, Mike.
But..I think....I'm ...going to...die....##

"No you won't." Mike promised. "We're coming! What's your
name? At least tell me that." he begged her.

There was no reply for long moments, until Dixie's voice
on the payphone cut in. ##Listen, honey. Do you want a new
pet to care for? I know people haven't proven to be any
good for you but listen... can you hear her?##

The sounds of whimpering and puppy talk filled the cab of
the rushing engine. 

## We can bring her to you, just as soon as we can. All you have
to do is tell us your name.## repeated the shaken nurse.

Crockett, in his speeding car, leaned into the scanner, with
a pen from his pocket poised over his notebook.

Silence reigned over the air wave. And Mike was oh so
aware of how many breaths he was breathing in the
stretching interval that follow. He was about to burst,
so he blurted out. "She's my puppy. Born a few hours
ago. I'd like you to have her in exchange for that secret
necklace you gave me. Please, will you tell me? I want to
know what to call you before.." Stoker broke off, overcome.
"...before it's too late."

##....promise....  ?...? ## came the softest whisper.

"Yes.." 

They all heard the sound of a door opening to the storm
growing outside and the sound of a body dragging across
textured concrete. And the sounds of lightly wind stirred waves
as they rippled along the edges of what could only be a
a closeby swimming pool. And the haunting wind chimes
that Mike had mentioned earlier.

##It's Soledad....## the girl sighed. ##Soledad Martin.. Ah, Raphael..
Keep singing. Keep singing until I can no longer.......hear you...##
whispered the seed poisoned artist girl who admired a firefighter
from afar.

The phone line issued a terrible splash and the HT fuzzed into
a piercing signal lost squelch when its transmissioned channel
snuffed out as the girl's body fell intentionally into the deep end 
of the pool.

"No!!" yelled Mike, even as Chet whipped away the radio so Mike
couldn't hear her struggles anymore. He briefly grappled with him 
to get it back.

Cap grabbed his arm firmly. "Keep your mind on the road! We'll get
there just as fast as humanly possible, Mike. But we have to get
there in one piece first. Understood, pal?" he said, his eyes weeping.
"You've got eleven tons of fire engine sitting under your butt and you're 
driving. Hold it all together until we get there!"

Mike Stoker nodded blindly, his eyes wet with  
incredibly fresh grief of his own. "Ok, Cap.." he sobbed. 
"I hear you."

Cap then beckoned for the radio from Kelly. "Dixie,.. let us know if
you hear any more sounds. Any at all." he said grimly. "We're three
minutes away at the very least!"

-----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Crockett was practically eating his microphone. "Madeline! I want
the address of a Soledad Martin, a female minor living in Camden Bluffs
and I want it NOW! She's just thrown herself into a pool to drown and
we're nowhere near enough to save her yet!"

The frightened police dispatcher finally gave the information as fast
as she could push it from between her lips.

-----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

They found her at the very bottom, drifting almost peacefully under
the water. 

Captain Stanley wouldn't let Mike Stoker anywhere near
her as they worked to get a clear airway and later, to get a dried off 
chest for an EKG reading on the pulse they had recaptured on her using 
the manual defibrillator.

Dr. Morton let Roy and Johnny establish an ET first before he
threaded an NG to extract the offending seeds that Soledad had
consumed. Six beans spat out into the collection jar. And to his
immense relief, all of them were unbroken and entirely free of bite 
marks.

Mike Stoker began to weep. "She swallowed them whole, doctor?"

"Looks like it. If she manages to last three to five days, that'll see
her over the worst of it."

"How can you treat a poison that can't be cured?"

"You wait it out. Her condition appears young and strong. She seems
to have kept herself well fed from what the police found in her refrigerator
in spite of being left to her own devices." Morton replied as they watched 
Roy and Johnny package up the girl even while they breathed for her.

"Those d*mned plants are everywhere. Glad you pointed them out to me,
Dr. Morton." said Cap, stepping near. He was putting on his jacket again 
after having been the one to be Soledad's chest compressor for her CPR. 
"I'll know what to watch out for in the ornamentals around houses on
unknown child down calls from now on. They just might be these, then. 
Pretty things, aren't they?"

"That's the trap..Grownups cultivate them in their gardens and kids
find them irresistable." Morton sighed, holding up the jar of deadly 
beans he had taken from Soledad's stomach. They glistened in the 
moonlight, beautifully coated with an appealing speckled seagreen 
and maroon. "Kids and crafters everywhere like to make them into 
jewelry. And they wrongly think that just because castor oil is safe, 
that the plant's beans are, too."

"How..how does the toxin work, doctor?" Mike Stoker asked as he
watched the slight girl get wheeled away and rushed to Rampart
by his coworkers.

"Just one milligram of ricin, one of the main toxic proteins in the plant, 
can kill an adult. The ricinus lectins act by inhibiting protein synthesis 
by destroying a cell's ribosomes. The seed is only toxic as the outer 
shell is broken or chewed open. Or baked and glazed as they usually are
to make top selling jewelry for all the art shows. People are dumb enough
to be ignorant and they buy them. Then the many children playing with 
these homespun necklaces get sick and die after they eat the attractive 
seeds, thinking they are actually the candy pieces they appear to be." 
Morton said sadly. "Early symptoms are the gastric upset and later 
there's kidney and circulatory failure along with seizures and acute 
respiratory distress syndrome, if not complete apnea in all cases 
after severe exposures."

Crockett sighed and folded his arms together. "I know of at least one
man who's been killed by ricin." he said thoughtfully. "He's on all
of our books and his death is now a subject to be taught about at
the police academy.. Bulgarian Georgi Markov, was 
a communist defector working for the BBC World Service, last year.
He wasn't considered a popular man by his countrymen because
he was a playwright and satirist who had broadcast scathing accounts 
of Communist high life to Bulgaria abroad. He was killed by a poison 
dart filled with ricin that was fired from an umbrella in London last spring,
1978. Markov's assassination was detected only because the pellet 
carrying the poison had not dissolved as expected properly into the 
muscles of his thigh. It took him four days to die and he developed a 
very high fever and the most hideous symptoms. That's why I became 
so distressed when I learned that the girl had taken some of this in the 
form of castor beans."

"I don't know what horrifies me more, doctor. The fact that ricin is so
deadly or the fact that Soledad knew about them from her mother
and tried to take some to end her life.." Mike said, stroking the
brilliant brass cage that housed a now silent Raphael.

The brief summer storm had long since passed without spilling a 
single drop of rain and that explained the bird's sudden quiescence.

There was no more lightning for him to mistake for a rising dawn.

Stoker smiled. "And this little guy, deserves a reward. He saved
her life you know. I never would have put two and two together if
he hadn't've burst his heart out when he did."

"Miracles do happen." Chet Kelly grinned, picking up all the paper
wrapping from the medications and stimulants that they had used
on the girl. "Seems like us crew of Station 51 got a real
good quality one today.  Man..." he puffed, stretching like a cat.

"Kelly.."

"What, Cap?"

"Make yourself scarce."

Kelly missed nothing and realized that a conversation never meant
for his ears was about to take place. But that was ok in his book 
because he knew that fire captains sometimes needed private 
times to talk and sort out problems with the men under him. Mike 
didn't look happy, but that was ok, too. Chet would fix any ruffled 
feathers he found on him later, when they were alone. "Ok.." said 
Chet and he disappeared back into the house to help the police 
locate information on the whereabouts of Soledad's mother.

When he was gone, Cap turned to his engineer and met his eyes.
"What are you going to do now, Mike? I mean, when she comes
back home again, you'll still have your secret admirer problem
looming over your head." Cap asked with a faint smile.

"I'll cross that bridge when I come to it. But you know, I think we
both should become friends anyway, Cap."

"Why? You know how obsessive types usually get with us. We usually
have to get a restraining order to keep them away from the station."
Hank said matter of fact.

"I know. But she's young. Only fourteen. I don't think she'll get
too bad. Not with state psychologists chaparoning all our visits
together. And I think that she'll be able to teach me how to love dogs 
again through that pup I'm giving her as much as I can show her
how to love other folks again. Maybe we can learn a lot ...
....from each other."

"Admirable, my man, simply admirable.." grinned Detective 
Crockett with a large smile. The policeman's face lit up the 
night sky like a beacon. "Outta sight."


FIN

Episode Twenty Three

§§  The One That Matters  §§

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

            
                            End Credits --  Episode Twenty Three (Third Season)
                                      
                                              §§  The One That Matters  §§

                :)     This episode is for those who weren't saved from suicide and the
                        the families still living with the burden of that memory.
                :)                                                                                                                               :)

@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@ 
 
The Story Unfolds...

Season Three, Episode Twenty Four..
 
 §§    S.n.a.f.u.    §§
 
Debut Launch: August 1st, 2005. 
 
**************************************************
From: "Mark" <golfersluve2@yahoo.com> 
Date: Fri Aug 12, 2005  12:41 am 
Subject: ( Episode 24 opening scene )


Dr. Kelly Brackett stumbled into the shower. His head was pounding
and he knew his temperature must be at least 102. He grabbed the
bottle of Tylenol and swallowed them with a gulp of water. He felt
that he had to get to Rampart, not as a patient, but because the ER
was short staffed. Mike Morton had left for vacation in New York
last Saturday and wasn't due back for a full ten days. 

It didn't enter his fevered mind that Dixie would take one glance at 
him and chew him out for even attempting to come to work. Perhaps 
most of the lecture would take place the NEXT time he came to work
though. After putting on his plaid suit, Kel picked up his medical bag 
and trudged out to his car. Checking the clock, seeing it was 11:30 
p.m., he muttered. "If only I hadn't scheduled myself on the graveyard 
shift."

He got in his car and carefully backed out his driveway. After
driving for a few minutes Kel started to wonder if he was doing the
right thing. He stopped at a red light and started to alertness
when the car behind him honked. It was a couple of teenagers in a
convertible. He looked up and realized that the light had turned
green already. As soon as he passed through the intersection, the
other car whipped around him, effectively cutting him off. Kel
grimaced as he saw one of them make a rude gesture at him. He
slammed on the brakes to avoid a collision.

Shaking from the near miss, it occurred to him that maybe he had not
made the right decision. "I'm so tired of feeling this rotten," he 
stated to the empty road. Flexing his stiff neck he slowly
continued down the road. ::Oh, no.:: Kel thought, as his physician 
mind kicked in, ::Please don't let this be meningitis.:: His dread grew 
as he added up his symptoms. Suddenly he realized he was driving 
much too fast. 

His car careened, narrowly missing an oncoming car.
Unfortunately, feeling the way he did, his reactions were slowed and
he realized too late, that he had launched his car over the curb. As his
car began to flip, it glanced a parked car, then crumpled into a large
tree. 

The car landed on its right side, the front of the car crumpled in, 
breaking both legs. His windshield shattered on impact,
spraying Kel with glass. Pinned against the steering wheel, he drew
a ragged breath. He knew he had broken ribs. Pain ran down
and radiated through his body. 

::Why is a tree branch sticking out of my shoulder?:: he 
wondered, as the darkness claimed him.

------------------------------------------------------------

##Station 51, single car accident, 110th block of Torrence Blvd.
Time out: 23:59.##

John Gage bounded into the driver's seat, joined by Dwyer because
he knew that Roy was at home recovering from a minor injury
that he had taken on a prior shift. He led the engine
out of the bay, unknowingly, to rescue his boss and friend.

"Station 51 at scene." Captain Stanley radioed to dispatch.

John and Dwyer looked at crumpled heap of metal in front of them. A
feeling of dread came over Johnny. "Please don't let me be
right," he spoke out loud.

"Right?" Captain Stanley said, "What do you mean, John?"

"I think that is Doc Brackett's new car," John replied.

------------------------------------------------------------

Photos:  None.

**************************************************
From :  wone3 <jwilds@starpower.net>
Sent :  Sunday, August 14, 2005 10:59 AM
Subject :  [EmergencyTheaterLive] The Start of an Long Night 


As Dr. Brackett's accident was happening, Dixie McCall was pulling 
into Rampart's employee parking lot. Though she loathed the graveyard 
shift, she still scheduled herself to the shift in regular intervals. 


It was one of many reasons that she had the respect of her nursing 
staff, as most supervisors wouldn't work the shift unless they were 
needed. Of course it didn't hurt that both Kel Brackett and Joe Early 
were working the shift with her. The three of them were the closest 
of friends and did a bunch of activities together. Dixie looked 
around the parking lot and spotted Joe's car almost immediately but 
didn't see Kel's.  

:: That's strange, he's usually here by now in his 
office.. :: she thought. :: Of course, he could have had car trouble 
and his car isn't here. :: she continued her thought process. 

She knew the only way to find out was to go inside. She exited her station 
wagon, locking it up as she went and headed for the emergency room 
doors to get ready for work. As she headed for the nurse's locker 
room to change, she walked by Dr. Brackett's door. She noticed it was 
shut, but knocked at the door and tried turning the handle. She was 
surprised to find the door locked but figured that he must be running 
later than she was and went to get ready for work. 

About ten minutes later, she left the room ready for work. As she 
exited the door, she nearly ran over Joe Early in the hallway. "Hi 
Dix, I see you got stuck, too, huh?" 

"Yeah, Joe. I scheduled myself to work with my two favorite doctors 
though, so at least the shift would be bearable. But it looks like I 
might be pulling a double shift since I hear we are down four nurses 
due to this flu going around. Hey Joe, You haven't seen Kel yet have 
you? I needed to ask him a question." 

Joe was about to answer when they were interrupted.##Dr. Early and 
Nurse McCall to the Base Station, stat. Dr. Early and Nurse McCall to 
the Base Station, stat.## 

They both hurried down the hall to answer the call.

------------------------------------------------------------

Photos:  None.

**************************************************
From :  Champagne Scott <chameleonkate@hotmail.com> 
Sent :  Thursday, August 18, 2005 2:35 PM 
Subject :  The Woody Jumble.. 


The night was thick with late evening darkness.

Gage peered into the cab of the shattered maroon sports
car and recognized Brackett's leather jacket and cologne
right away. He heard an effective rate of labored breathing
but the doctor didn't answer to his name at all, nor did Gage see
any attempt at voluntary movement, from where he crouched.
"It's his. Positive I.D., Cap."


Cap tried some wry humor. "Looks like lightning's
struck twice here for the doc, unfortunately. Ok, let's get to 
work, gang!" Stanley immediately stopped Gage with a hand
on his arm when the dark haired paramedic stuck his
head in to climb inside. 

Johnny licked his lips with uncharacteristic stress and more 
than a little dread.

"John, you guys gonna be all right working on him
like this?" he asked, realizing the huge weight knowing
a victim would have on his paramedic team.

"Cap, don't call another squad." swallowed Dwyer. 
"We'll handle it. In fact, we'd rather know what's going on with 
Brackett, good or bad, than let a total stranger station learn 
about it first.  Besides, who can care for him better than the best
possible people he's trained personally to date?" insisted Dwyer 
as he began to jack open the driver's door frame with a crowbar. 
"Roy's not here, but I'll do.."

Hank hesitated, but as the sounds of difficult breathing began to 
falter due to the awkward positioning Kel lay in, he held up a 
warning finger. "Just this once...Let me know what you need the 
instant you figure it out." he ordered.

Dwyer and Gage nodded mutely and squirmed into the car 
even before the gas had been pushed away with water.

Their flashlights disappeared inside as they got to the
injured doctor's side.

  "Marco! Stoker! Get a covering inch and a half. There's
gasoline all over the place. Then grab the spreaders!
We're not using a K-12 on this tree unless we absolutely 
have to!" Cap got on his handy talkie. "L.A., Engine 51. We have 
a single vehicle crash with a live victim. Notify the ambulance 
company. Station 51's out one hour.."

##Engine 51. Your ambulance ETA is reported at twelve minutes.##

"10-4, L.A."

Hank got busy grabbing the resuscitation gear.

--------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

"Oh, man. Would you look at this?" Johnny said to his partner.
"A tree branch's been shoved clear through a shoulder."

Dwyer immediately got on Brackett's head, opening his airway
with a modified jaw thrust and provided firm immobilization for
his neck. "The left side...Above the first and second ribs?" he
asked as he bent to listen closer for the exact quality of Kel's
shuddering respirations.

Gage knew that below meant cardiac damage, a pneumothorax, or
worse. He got out his clothes shears and started cutting. "Above,..
and the blood's not bright or frothy."

"Brownie points for us. Come on, Kel. Show us more......" Dwyer mumbled,
as Johnny searched lower, slicing down to bare skin as he got
rid of the doctor's clothing.

"Some rib involvement, but no sucking chest wound ......
and two broken legs.." Johnny spoke swiftly as he gingerly shucked 
off both of Brackett's shoes to check for a Babinski's.  His reflexes, were 
normal. "Back so far, seems clear.  Let me check it out closer. "
said Johnny as he felt and examined Brackett's spine under
the bright swathe of flashlight illumination. "Any pulmonary blood?"

"No, but he's getting cyanotic for some reason, in spite of a good
airway. And he's awfully warm to me." Dwyer said.

"Head injury?" Johnny asked, adding the elevated temp and
slow, noisy breathing symptoms together.

"Don't know yet without a BP..."

"I'll get it.." murmured Johnny, hurrying even faster than before.
"Check his head once Marco gets in here with a collar."

Dwyer shouted into the air. "Cap! O2 on the fly! His color's turning!"

Hank fed the unit through the side window that Stoker had just
compromised. "Here.. He awake?"

"Sort of.." Dwyer stated, "He makes noise on pain. See?"  he
demonstrated by rubbing a firm knuckle into Kel's breastbone. At the 
same time, Johnny pinched his Achilles tendon, hard.

Brackett moaned but didn't try to push the saliva or blood, out of his
mouth. This Johnny drew away with suction. "Cap, tell Rampart
that he's reactive only to pain. And read this off..." he said, handing
his notepad out of the car. "We'll have vitals for ya in a second.
We're gonna vent him for a minute or so until his color improves
before we do that."

Hank set up the biophone and started giving a report to a very
very quiet Joe Early. 

Gage professed confusion as to Kel's mild stridor. "His chest's
clear." he said pulling off his stethoscope. "No artifact at all.
I can't tell if his heart sounds are muffled. Not with all this noise
going on.." he said of the working jaws and chain springing the
dashboard away from them.

"I'm putting in a nasopharyngeal on the right side. His gag's 
negligable." Dwyer said.

"Here's the demand valve. I got a mask on his stomach whenever
he's set for that. Marco!" Johnny shouted.

"Yeah!" hollered Lopez.

"Get in here with a short board and that C-Collar. We're ready
for ya!" he said as both he and Dwyer checked the placement of
the NP and the effectiveness of the light ventilations Johnny
was triggering on Brackett's inhalations. "He's gonna need full
spinal immobilization! And that's after we deal with a shoulder
impalement! It's got him pinned in here real good!"

"You got it, pal. Collar coming first."

---------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Hank could drop a pin over the airwaves as the gray haired physician
and mouse quiet nurse stayed that way while he reiterated his
patient report off of Gage's notes.... " C-spine's clear so far,
all reflexes are intact. However, he needs some airway support
with an NP."

Joe's voice literally cracked after a sigh of relief that he couldn't hide
to save his soul. ##...10-4, 51. What are his vital signs? ##

Hank got another scrap of paper from the dark hole and he plugged
his ear as he read the information in the glow of the Ward's headlights
for Rampart. "..BP's 88/46, respirations unassisted are deep at nine.
Pulse is 130 and thready. Rampart, my paramedics note that our victim
is semi comatose but febrile without a head injury."

--------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Dixie was afraid to move while she wrote down the information in a
haze of surreality. "Sounds like he's got that d*mned flu going around.
Maybe that's why he crashed..." she whispered.

Joe thumbed the talk button again on the base station receiver.
"51, I suspect an infectious etiology to explain the fever. Ignore
that for now. Monitor vital signs, splint both legs and get him
on a spine board, with full head, back and neck immobilization.

Start two large bore I.V.'s of normal saline, on the uneffected arm.
Run them in until you've reached his haemodynamic stability level.

Immobilize the tree branch, without removing it, as best you can,  
once you get him free. Re-evaluate his chest , heart and lungs 
every minute. Keep an eye on his consciousness level and let me 
know when either that or his cyanosis improves. Any muffled heart
sounds may indicate developing tamponade. Watch for it
and treat accordingly."

##10-4, Rampart. Two I.V.s of NS, leg splints, complete long board 
and relative stabilization of the stabbed shoulder. Re-examine
breathing and heart sounds continually. Stand by for another vitals set,
Rampart...## came Captain Stanley's voice.

"Standing by."

In the few seconds that took, Dixie started shaking. "Oh, my god, Joe.
This is really Kel, isn't it? I- I mean ....couldn't they be mistaken about
him? It's full night out there."

"What do you think, Dixie? Now you know and I know that those
firemen out there are just too good to make a mistake like that.
Ever. Let's just concentrate on getting Kel the best surgeons possible
and take things one step at a time, once we get him in here, ok?"

Dixie nodded, but then she frowned. "Can you treat your best friend, Joe?
Regulations say no."

"The regulations be d*mned. It's nearly midnight and there's no one else
readily available with my qualifications. I'll weather that administrative
storm once Kel's been stabilized in surgery and is resting comfortably."

That ended the conversation most effectively. 

Both the stunned doctor and nurse turned back to the speaker phone 
and tried not to bite their lips as they heard the sounds of shouting, 
sawing and orders coming over the open phone. 

For some reason, Cap hadn't muffled the mouth piece.

--------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

"Get a hose on that, now!" Hank yelled to Chet. 

A spark had ignited a puddle under the door opposite the driver's open 
one.

"Cap!!" shouted Johnny and Dwyer. Gage pinched off the O2 line, even
as he pulled in his feet from the bottom of the fire on his side of
the car. "We've got a burn here!"

##Kelly's on it! Keep sawing in there..## Cap reassured through his belt HT.
##He's pushing it out from under ya as we speak!##

Johnny blinked as blood droplets sprayed his face from the wood
and bark stake's base as Marco bit into it once more with a handheld 
hatchet saw. "Easy...easy... go slower! His BP's dropping with all the 
vibrating going on!"

Brackett began to moan in pain. And he began to speak. 
"..fire, Johnny....got to get out.." he gurgled on dirt and blood.

Gage sucked it away with an active wand.
"Doc. We're ok. They're not gonna let us burn. How's your chest doing?"

"You mean ...besides feeling that d*mned tree driving ...clear through it?"

"Yeah.."

"I'm still breathing..." he gasped.

Johnny cracked a grin. "A lot better than you were before."

"What-- what else is wrong with me?"

"You've got a broken tib on the left, a tib/fib on the right. Both closed. 
And some uncomplicated rib fractures on the left. How's your head?"

"I....got a headache. But Johnny.. I had that before....the crash.."
Kel whispered. "I think I'm sick... Very sick. You both protect yourselves.
You hear me?"

"Too late for that, doc. We're already in the thick of it. Besides, there ain't
a bug alive that can keep a fireman down. I speak from experience, 
remember?" Gage grinned. "Now you just concentrate on breathing in 
this oxygen. We're starting to get signs of pulsus paradoxus on you 
and that may not be just because we're moving this maple off ya."

"H-how bad?" Kel gasped.

"Around a twenty point drop in your systolic on every inhalation..."

Brackett sighed.. "I'm tamponading or..I've...most likely got ..an aortic
contusion going on. How's my pressure ..reacting in my arms and legs?"
he asked weakly while Marco slid a Kendrick short board next to his
head around the snugly fastened collar the doctor now wore.

Dwyer responded, looking up from a set of thigh BPs he had just taken. 
"All four are equal, doc. No drop in the legs and no hypertension in
the arms."

"That's a relief... but, we all know I'm....not out of the woods, yet.."
he said swallowing around the uncomfortable soft rubber 
nasopharyngeal airway hanging partially down the back of his throat.

"That a pun, doc?" Lopez quipped.

Brackett tried to smile. 
"Who's on, tonight, who's....got me?"

"It's Joe, doc.  An ortho and thoracic surgeons team is already
standing by." Johnny replied.

"Let me talk to him.."

"Sorry, doc." said Dwyer, turning up both of Kel's I.V.s. "Can't
oblige. Against regulations. And besides, there's a fire
between us and the phone.."

"No there isn't....about the fire, I mean. I just heard Chet Kelly
announcing that he smothered it out a minute ago with some foam."

"Still too far away.." Gage teased seriously. "Cap's out
there and the reception'll probably be cut off in here. So, answer's
still...nope."

"Come on, Johnny. I order y--"

"Wrong, doc. You're not my doc anymore. Not since you started bleeding
and we started trying to stop it. So hush up and quit twitching your good arm
around like that. You'll infiltrate your I.V.s." Johnny said.

Brackett's ire was squashed as a fresh jolt of agony lanced through
his shoulder as Stoker shifted a large piece of tree 
away from his body. His awareness started to fade. "Round two, later, Johnny.
Use an ET, rapid sequence,...if  I ...." 

Kel blacked out.

"Dr. Brackett?...Dr. Brackett?" Johnny prompted, feeling for his carotid.
"Can you hear me?" he shouted over the loud buzzing of the jaws.

-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Photos:  None.

***************************************************
From :  Mark <golfersluve2@yahoo.com> 
Sent :  Monday, August 22, 2005 3:36 PM 
Subject :  [EmergencyTheaterLive] The rescue continues.... 


"His pulse is weak and thready." John announced after checking his 
carotid.  "We need to get him out of here, NOW!  BP has fallen some. 
84/40."

Fortunately the last piece of the tree Mike had removed left only 
about a foot sticking out of Kel's shoulder.   The back side had 
already been cut to enable them to get the backboard in place.  

Dwyer took a careful hold, supporting Kel, securely holding the 
backboard.  Johnny quickly wrapped the portion of the tree limb that 
still impaled Kel, securing it in place and immobilizing Kel's arms.

The car gave one final jerk as the engine crew worked the jaws, 
prying the dashboard off, freeing Kel.  Johnny carefully placed the 
splints on and secured Kel's legs to the board.

"Let's get him out of here." Johnny said tersely.  ::I never dreamed 
how hard this rescue would be.:: Johnny thought to himself.  ::I 
hope I never go through the rescue of a person I know again!  If I 
can't have my partner, I'm glad it's Dwyer here. But I sure wish Roy 
was here instead.::

They carefully lifted Kel, setting him on the waiting gurney.  

"Cap, let's get the equipment in the ambulance." Johnny 
requested.  "We'll update in route." Cap quickly transferred the 
biophone to the ambulance.  Marco handed in the rest of the 
equipment.  Johnny and Dwyer climbed in.  Captain Stanley shut the 
doors and gave them the traditional two thumps.

"BP is still 84/40." Dwyer advised.  "His pulse is the same - 130 
and thready."

Johnny listened to Kel's heart and lungs again.  "Drat!  I'm hearing 
more stridor." Johnny said.  He picked up the receiver to contact 
Rampart.

"I'll get him patched in." Dwyer said.

"Rampart, this is Squad 51." Johnny called in.

##Go ahead, 51.## answered the anxious voice of Dr. Early.

"Rampart we have extricated victim and are in route.  Our ETA is 10 
minutes.  Just prior to extrication patient was conscious and 
oriented.  Patient advised he had a headache before the crash and 
believes he is very sick.  He advised us to use safety precautions.  
Patient has lost consciousness.  BP is now 84/40, pulse 130 and 
thready, respirations are labored with increasing stridor.  We have 
him patched in and are sending you a strip.  This will be lead two."

##10-4, 51.  We're standing by for your next update.##

-----------------------------------------------------------

Roy DeSoto was awakened by someone pounding on his front door.  
He'd just dropped off to sleep after spending an hour tossing and 
turning.  "I'll get it." he told Joanne.  He threw on his robe and 
went to answer the door.  Opening it, he saw his neighbor, Bill, 
anxiously standing there.

"Bill?  What's wrong?" he asked.  

"Judy's in labor." he told Roy.  "She says it is time but our car 
won't start."

Roy smiled and held up his broken left wrist.  "It's your lucky 
night, Bill!  I should have been at work, but for this.  I'll be over 
with the car in a flash."

Roy dashed back to his bedroom.  "Judy is in labor." he told 
Joanne.  "Bill says the car won't start so I'm going to take them to 
Rampart."  He quickly dressed, leaned over to give Joanne a kiss, 
and then headed out.  He grabbed his keys and wallet from the 
kitchen and hurried to the car.  He drove next door, jumped out and 
helped Bill get Judy situated in the back seat.  They quickly headed 
to Rampart.

"They told us to come to the maternity entrance." Bill advised Roy.  

"Sure thing, Bill." Roy said.  The drive was short and soon they 
arrived at Rampart.  Roy dropped them off.  "Give me a call when you 
need a ride home, Bill."  Roy told him.

"Thanks for everything, Roy!" said a thankful Bill as he helped Judy 
out of the car.

::It's after midnight and I'm wide awake:: Roy thought.  He drove 
around the hospital and found himself going past the emergency 
entrance.  ::Oh, what the heck. I might as well go in and see who is 
here.::  He parked the car and casually strolled in the 
entrance.  ::It doesn't look very busy right now:: he thought to 
himself.  

------------------------------------------------------------------

Kel moaned, starting to surface to consciousness once again.  "Wake 
up, Doc." Johnny said.  He gave Kel a sternal rub again.  "Come on, 
Kel!  Talk to me." ordered Johnny.  

Kel looked up into the lighted ambulance and moaned, "My head 
hurts." he complained.  "Ahhh, the lights!"

"Hang in there, Kel.  We're almost there." Johnny told him. 

"Oh man, Johnny.  I really messed up this time, didn't I?" Kel said.

"Hey, Doc, give yourself a break." Johnny replied.  "You're human.  
You know as well as I do that when a person gets sick, they don't 
always use the best judgment.  Remember, you're talking to the man 
who rappelled down a high rise with that monkey virus."

"Yeah, you're right." Kel sighed.  "Dixie's gonna have my head on a 
platter, though."

"It's o.k., Doc." Dwyer chipped in.  ::I need to think of something 
positive for him to focus on.:: thought Dwyer.  ::I know!::  "You'll 
be able to make it up to her with a nice dinner.  You know how much 
she loves that swanky restaurant you've taken her to in the past."

"Rampart, this is Squad 51." Johnny spoke into the biophone.

##Go ahead, 51.## 

"Rampart, victim has regained consciousness and is complaining of a 
headache as well as light sensitivity.  Vitals remain the same."

Kel found himself suddenly feeling very nauseous.   He tried to 
voice his difficulty, but as he opened up his mouth to say 
something, he realized he was too late.  He weakly began to vomit.  

Johnny dropped the biophone and grabbed the suction wand.  Dwyer 
quickly unstrapped the backboard from the gurney and turned Kel up 
on his side.

 ------------------------------------------------------------------

##Easy, Kel.  We've got you.## Dix and Joe heard Johnny say over the 
sounds of retching.

"They'll be here soon, Dix." Joe commented looking at his watch.

"Treatment one is ready." Dixie answered.  "I'd better prepare the 
nurses."

##Rampart, this is Squad 51.## 

"Go ahead 51." Joe answered again.

##Rampart, vitals remain unchanged.  Patient has vomited.  ETA about 
1 minute.##

"10-4, 51. We'll be waiting." Joe replied.

Dix went out to the desk.  Carol and the newly promoted
nurse, Sharon, were at the desk.

"We have a patient coming in." Dixie told them.  "This one isn't 
going to be easy for any of us.  The patient is Dr. Brackett.  He has 
multiple trauma injuries and probably some kind of infectious 
etiology.  We'll be taking him straight into room one.  Please head 
in there now and double check that everything is in order."  

"Yes, Miss McCall." came the shocked reply from both nurses.  They 
hurried into room one.


Dixie looked up to see Roy heading down the hall.  He stopped at the 
desk and gave her a grin.

"Quiet right now, huh?  I just brought my neighbors into maternity." 
he said.  "It's their first baby.  Guess it is a lucky thing I broke 
my wrist last shift because their car wouldn't start."  Roy stopped 
and studied Dix.  It dawned on him something was not right at all.
"Dix?  What's wrong?" he asked.  Roy had rarely seen Dixie this 
upset before.  ::The last time I saw her this upset was when Joe 
needed heart surgery.:: Roy thought.

"It's Kel, Roy." Dixie said.  She bit her trembling lip.

"Dix?" Roy anxiously questioned.

"Johnny and Dwyer are bringing him in now." she told him.  "He crashed 
into a tree.  Probably because he is pretty sick."

Shocked, Roy could only say, "Oh, no!"

Joe came out of the base station.  "Hi, Roy."  Joe paused and took a 
deep breath and tried to mentally prepare himself.  "Let's go.  
They're here, Dix."  He said.

They heard the ambulance backing up by the doors.  

"We're set up in room one." Joe called out as the ER doors opened.  

They rushed him into the room and quickly transferred him to the 
treatment table.  

Kel gasped for breath and cried out, "I...."

--------------------------------------------------------------

Photos:  None. 

 
***************************************************
From :  patti keiper <pattik1@hotmail.com> 
Sent :  Wednesday, August 24, 2005 4:14 AM 
Subject :  The Heart of the Matter is..... 


"What, Kel?" Dixie said immediately after she pointed
to Carol and Sharon to switch over Brackett's oxygen
supply to the wall's port hub. "Can you tell us what's 
happening now?"

But Dr. Brackett wasn't able to voice anything more.

Joe Early looked to Roy, who had followed them into
the trauma room. Early quickly listened to Kel's chest for
signs of why he was having so much trouble breathing.
"Roy, would you call for the respiratory therapy and
anesthesiology team stat? He can't wait until he gets to 
surgery for that endotrach tube. We need to put him
under sooner rather than later. "

"You got it.." DeSoto said, moving swiftly to the phone.

"Want me to help him, doc, until they get here?" Gage
offered.

"Yes, on that ambu again, but real light. I'm hearing a 
definite pericardial friction rub with Kussmaul's and Ewart's
sign with developing aortic regurgitation." Joe said firmly as 
he checked and double checked the entry and exit points of the tree 
branch into and out of Kel's shoulder. "Something's bringing
on this cardiac tamponade but it's definitely not trauma related. 
His vitals don't add up for that. He's got an area of dullness 
to percussion at the tip of the left scapula and a clear rise in JVP on 
inspiration forming. See?" said Joe as he pointed to the veins in Kel's 
neck ballooning out when Johnny helped him breathe in on the bag.

Dwyer whispered. "Sorry we missed that out there, Doctor Early.
Things were noisy with the jaws and all the car cracking."

"Effects nothing. This is probably a new finding that just started 
happening because he's been physically active trying to vomit. 
You fellas did an absolutely terrific job out there...and from 
the both of us,..we thank you wholeheartedly." Joe said about
Dixie and himself. Then he began to snap out lab orders to Carol 
and Sharon. "Carol, draw bloods and have the lab run a creatine 
kinase and isoenzyme levels series, a CBC with differential, 
a PT, a PTT, an antinuclear antibody assay, and an erythrocyte 
sedimentation rate."

"Yes, doctor." Carol said.

Early turned to Sharon. "Let's stave off volume depletion, right now.
Confirm type and cross him off the I.V. line then set up a piggy back
TKO blood transfusion. Then I want you to begin another NS with 
dobutamine at 0.5-1 mcg/kg/min IV and titrate until you hear better 
compliance in his pericardium by auscultation. That med will 
definitely get his heart, stroke volume and cardiac output increasing 
without dilating the blood vessels in the rest of his body where 
any internal bleeding we don't know about yet, might take hold."

Sharon the R.N., nodded. "Yes, Dr. Early. Right away."

Johnny tried to smile around his obvious, silent worry. "You 
have a medication that acts like a chemical mast suit? I didn't 
know you guys had stuff like that in your drug arsenal.."

"It's a brand new therapy, Johnny. Kel okayed the preliminary 
human trials himself two months ago. I'm just glad the whole
experiment worked out fast enough to help the man who instigated
it all. " Early said calmly even as his hands worked fast to
assess his best friend.

"And how..." Dixie said in agreement. 

Joe went on. "Dwyer.. get him going on a twelve lead. I wanna see 
the whole picture as soon as we can get it." he looked up. "Roy, 
add a cardiologist and senior radiologist specialist to interpret the 
films we'll be getting of his chest, complete spine and bilateral legs 
and get Kel's cardiothoracic surgeon in here a bit faster!" he
called out to the paramedic.

DeSoto picked up his pace with the switchboard nurse over
the black stat phone.

Meanwhile, Dixie was getting another set of vitals and she 
wrote them down on the skin of Brackett's shivering stomach 
with a pen so the surgical team would have them in plain sight
along with the time they were taken. "Kel, try to settle down and 
let Johnny do the work of breathing for you. Just a few more 
minutes,.. then it's off to sleep. It'll be a fast end to all this pain 
you're feeling, I promise you."

Brackett ignored her in a shock delirium. "Joe.. *gasp*..
J-.." he waved a weak hand to his sweating forehead and
his eyes asked, ::What about the fever?::

Joe grabbed his hand and pulled it back down under
the backboard straps. "I know, Kel. I know. I don't think
what you have is contagious. Think about it. You have
a classic Beck triad going on....Little, if any chest pain, 
in spite of this shoulder involvement, along with a
prominent fever and chills without any other clearly obvious 
cold or flu symptoms.. What does it add up to? And no,
this isn't meningitis. Your stiff neck was probably just you
sleeping twisted up wrong on a pillow last night. Your
deep tendon reflex reactions don't float that theory
one iota."

Brackett's eyes squinted into a faint frown of confusion.
Then his features folded into self discovery as he put
two and two together.

"Yep." said Joe. "You've probably got an acute case of
purulent pericarditis going on. The blood work will show us
exactly what bacteria's the annoying culprit. Although I'm
suspecting Neisseria since you felt lousy enough to wrap
yourself around that tree with your brand new sports car." 
he quipped. "I'll have the surgical team tell us what they
plan on the table when they explore and repair that left
shoulder so we can tell you all about it when you hit recovery. 
Ok? You aren't gonna die here. Not with these findings.
That falling tree missed the bullseye and the whole target for
that matter. And I'll prove it to you with your slides. I'll just
bet your left subclavian and left carotid arteries' integrities 
are unscathed apart from a little bruising. And I now know
that you have absolutely no aortic hemorrhaging going on.
Look..." he said, tearing off the running EKG strip that Dwyer
had collected.  He held up the roll like a scroll over Kel's
pillow so he could read it. "You're just in sinus tach with simple
PR segment depression with an alternation of your QRS 
complexes, in a 2:1 ratio."

"Electrical....alternans?.." gasped Kel. He used the next
breath Gage gave him on the bag to whisper. "...are you
...sure?"

"Is my hair gray?" Joe smiled. "It's alternans. Your heart's
slipperier than an eel inside its sac. But not grossly so. And I didn't
hear any aortic complaint, at all. Not even a whisper of any. 
Your tamponade will be an easy fix. Maybe just an echocardiographically 
guided pericardiocentesis. I'll authorize the Swan-Ganz catheter myself 
anticipating Dr. Weathers. That way we can sclerosely effuse your
pericardium with a family of tetracyclines and corticosteroids through the
pericath to get ahead of whatever heart germ you've managed to pick
up. There'll probably be no chest cracking this time around, you 
lucky son of a---"

Kel tried to chuckle and finally, he let go of his consciousness. 

Gage changed his head hold to compensate for that as he kept 
Kel's lungs expanding enough to matter without causing any more
jugular vein distension with all of his ambu work.

The ekg began to slow from its frightening, racing level.

Dixie sighed in relief as she handed Kel's stat chart for Joe
to sign for all the labs and treatments Carol had scribbled down at 
his recitation. "Now that's the only benefit I've ever found having a 
doctor for a patient. I've learned a milestone lesson this morning 
everybody. Seems no one can calm a doctor down ...better than 
another doctor."

Joe ordered another medication set. "Sharon. Start him on Ampicillin, 
given IV every 4 hours plus Gentamycin, given every 8 hours. It's
time we nip this transient pericarditis in the butt."

And about Dixie's calculated commentary, he telegraphed absolutely
nothing at all ...past a pair of faintly raised eyebrows.

Soon, the x-ray, respiratory and surgical teams got working as one
in a smooth, orchestrated knot of aid, around Kel. 

----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- 

Not long after, the three paramedics retreated back to the station
to come to terms with the whole unreal ball of wax with the rest
of the gang.

Roy was more than willing to hang out and talk about it. 

He said....


------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------ 

Photo:  Joe outside the surgical emergency room.

Photo:  Another paramedic in a close up. Chosen to be Dwyer.

Photo:  Brackett in a hospital bed.

Photo:  X-ray slides of a tamponaded and a normal heart.

Photo:  A tamponade ekg strip of a 134 beats a minute.

Photo:  Dix, Joe and Gage surrounding a treatment gurney      
             with a chest bared, cardiac monitored Kel.

*************************************************** 
From: "Cory Anda" <andacory@hotmail.com> 
Date: Wed Aug 24, 2005  12:09 pm 
Subject: The Cookie Chat.. 

 
"I still can't believe I walked into that stone cold and still
managed to function properly.." DeSoto laughed, sitting
at the table sipping on coffee.

The rest of the gang, now filled in on the surgery Kel was
heading into, chuckled good naturedly. 

Chet Kelly pointed to the cast on Roy's left hand. "So
how's the old wrist? I still get shivers remembering how it
sounded when you popped that bone catching yourself
on that rappelling rope when the gear gave way."

"This?" Roy said waving his arm around. "The ortho says
it's just a stress fracture, a crack in one tiny bone. I still 
have use of the hand and all. This splint's just a reminder
to keep it still to keep all the swelling down. I'll be back on
the job on light non fire duty after the weekend."

Dwyer spoke up. "And that'll be just in time, too. You know,
Roy? Gage is driving me nuts. Talks about you constantly."

"I do not. Did I even mention Roy once while we were getting
Doc Brackett out of his car? Huh?"

Dwyer ducked his head. "Well, no. But that's because you
were so busy, you didn't have time to."

Roy smiled. "Wow..Gee, Johnny. I ...didn't know you cared so
much." he teased mildly. "Usually you complain about all
my bad habits when I'm around."

"The grass is always greener...." Chet quipped.

"Oh, knock it off." Johnny said. "I'm just used to working with
him and miss it a little bit, that's all." he said to them all,
flinging a careless hand at Roy.

"More than a little bit.." Dwyer said. "Anyhow, just two more days
and I can get back to B shift."

Hank Stanley got up and refilled everyone's coffee mugs. "So,
Dr. Brackett's gonna be fine? Really?"

"Really.." said Gage. "He's probably just got two bandaids, one
on each side where the tree branch was sticking out and another
one where the cardiac needle went in draining out his pericardium."

"It's a little more involved than that, Johnny boy." Dwyer prompted.

Gage relented. "Well,...Maybe a few stitches in front under his collar 
bone and a support wrap for his ribs. He'll have a needle cath for his I.V. 
and blood supply, another very small tube for the shunt
draining and treating the sac around his heart ...and a foley in.." 

The guys crinched.

"But that's only until he wakes up from his anesthesia." Johnny added
hastily. "He'll probably be back to work in a week just like Roy, on
light duty, consulting on cases from his wheelchair."

"That's a relief. He looked pretty bad when we were there." Hank replied, 
snatching one of Stoker's chip cookies from the platter in front of him.

"That was just the heart infection working on him, making him a 
little too tired to breathe." Dwyer told him. "And he got a little cold
waiting for us to spring him free to get him onto that backboard.
That's why he looked gray."

"I thought he was a goner man, the way Johnny kept hollering."
Chet said. "You think he thought the doc was dying."

"There was every chance he was....until a certain point." Gage admitted. 
"I didn't know what was going to happen until Dwyer told me all the blood 
pressures in his arms and legs were reasonably fine and equal."

"Well, what did that mean?" Stoker asked. 

"It meant that he wasn't heart stabbed.  Sometimes the aorta above
gets nicked and people bleed out into the pericardium and are
dead in very short order. They just up and quit with little warning
and no amount of defibrillating and CPR gets em back. You had
two cases like that last year, remember Dwyer?"

"I remember, I thought I was cursed."

"Yeah, I remember you telling me about them. That's the first
thing I thought when I got to Brackett's side and saw that tree
branch sticking out of his chest." Johnny said. "I couldn't
trust my instincts about him at all, thinking about it. That's why
I was yelling so much at Kel, Chet, trying to keep him awake. I
was getting myself convinced that he really wasn't gonna
crash on us because of a cardiac bleed out."

"Well, I'm sure when he wakes up in his room, that he'll
remember you cared to a great degree." Hank said to Gage.

"Yeah, that's probably after he nitpicks the kind of care Dwyer 
and I gave him earlier."

Roy spoke up. "He'll do nothing of the sort. Johnny, Dr. Brackett's
not the complete ogre everyone thinks he is. He's good at
what he does and he tries to draw that out in others, but he's
no Craig Brice to tell a guy about how to do it. Not when it boils
right down to the fact that he found himself on the receiving end
of it from Joe Early."

"Hey,,... I never thought of that.." Gage said, snapping his fingers.
"That's right. Didn't Kel think he was coming down with meningitis
or something like that on the way in? He sure mumbled something
to that effect.." he said, looking to Dwyer.

"He did. I passed it off as a shock effect."

"Well, then we can go visit him with a clear conscience without fear."
Johnny said, stretching back into his chair with a sigh. "I'm feeling
better about the whole thing already."

Mike Stoker spoke up. "Hey, guys. We all got the weekend off. 
I got a great deal on a bunch of steaks before shift last night .
Why don't we all get together at my place to celebrate Brackett's
recovery with a genuine backyard barbeque. Maybe we can get 
in a few rounds with a set of clubs, too. I live on a golf course."

Chet brightened. "Oh, yeah! Didn't you tell us that you built
an incredible outdoor stone fire place along with the outdoor
kitchen patio last week?"

"I did. Only everyone was so engrossed in the Marco versus
Johnny chess game, that I thought no one even heard me
say it."

"I did, Stoker. Didn't you see me nodding?" Chet insisted.

"No, I was watching Marco here swooping down to murder
Gage's black queen."

Johnny squirmed in his seat uncomfortably. "And she died
a noble death, too. I tried to take out Marco's attacking bishop
before he moved onto a pawn to checkmate my king. I don't
like to lose my patients or my chess games."

"No one does." Roy remarked. "Say, Stoker. Count me in.
A steak dinner sounds absolutely fabulous. Can I bring the
kids?"

"Uhhh.." Stoker stammered. "Well..."

"No problem. The newly post pregnant neighbors still owe me 
a favor.  I'm sure they can keep an ear out in our yard for the kids
in between their newborn's diaper changes." DeSoto said. "But
I get out of doing dishes. Walking wounded, remember?"
he said, holding up his wrist.

"But I thought you said that you have full use of that hand."

"The cast still isn't waterproof, Johnny. I wouldn't want Brackett
to get mad at me for wrecking all his nice handywork. You know
how he reacts to people ruining their broken bone casts. He
practically chewed up the last guy who went surfing with one."
said DeSoto. "If we're gonna visit Kel, I want my cast still smelling
like new plaster, if it's all right with the rest of you guys."

"Fine by me." piped Stoker. "Dishes are my game. Cooking, too, for
that matter. "

Chet spoke up from the depths of the frig where he was hunting
down some milk for his pile of cookies. "Stoker, I'm not
coming if you aren't grilling chicken."

"I'll get some just for you, Chet." Stoker promised. "Just show
up without your rubber ones."

"Deal. The Phantom needs to take a break for a while. I need a
night out to relax some."

"Then it's a plan. Sunday afternoon..." Cap said rubbing pleased hands
together.

Stoker jumped in happily. "My place. Bring your own beverage... 
I hear the weather's gonna be fine.. And the golf fees after dinner, 
are on me.."

----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
 
Photo: Chet and Stoker eating at a table.

Photo: Cap and Roy talking at the table.

Photo: Dwyer with a book on the couch.

Photo:  Stoker close at the table, couch behind.

Photo: A golf house view patio.

Photo: A backyard stone fireplace and stove.

Photo: A golf house deck.

Photo: Johnny grinning like a cat.

Photo:  Brackett putting on a wrist wrap cast in close.

*************************************************** 
From :  Roxy Dee <laterrapincabesa@hotmail.com> 
Sent :  Wednesday, August 24, 2005 2:47 PM 
Subject :  [EmergencyTheaterLive] Out of the Blue~~ 

 
Soon, it was Sunday, under a glorious, cloudless blue sky
around two p.m. in the afternoon, at Engineer Stoker's
house.

"Man, that was fantastic, Stoker.." belched Cap from the
wooden bench as he lazily stared into the stone fireplace
on Mike Stoker's earthen patio. "Can I hire you on
as my personal house chef?"

"Sorry, not enough pay.." Mike replied.

"But you're not making any kind of pay now, Mike,
as an engineer. Maybe becoming Cap's kitchenhand
and butler has its merits there, pal." Chet chuckled.

"No thanks. I prefer a firehouse setting or a natural one
for cooking. That's why I moved out here to Torrence.
So do you like the new place?"

"How can you keep up with the payments, Stoker? Man,
this house is simply..incredible! And you've got a den, too."
Gage sighed in amazement.

"I don't live alone. A pair of stewardesses help me with the 
mortgage payments. They fly PSA on weekends and are
home when I work during the week at the station."

Chet nearly choked on his beer. "St-stewarDESSES? As
in female? Wow, didn't know you had it in you, Stoker. Living
in sin...." he egged.

"We're just roommates, Chet. Just like Three's Company the
show? With the cost of living nowdays, getting a pair of roomies
seemed like the smartest thing to do. I even had enough 
saved up to design and build this stove and fireplace for the
backyard."

"I like it." said Marco.

Cap jerked his head back at Johnny and Chet still mulling over
Stoker's living arrangements with two members of the opposite
sex. "Say, you two. Why don't you copycat like him for a while.
L*rd knows I can use some peace at the station from you two 
yammering all the time about how poor you are."

Gage froze, considering his libido. "Uhh, I don't think that would
work out too well for me."

Roy sniggered. "Why, don't you trust yourself to behave like
a gentleman, Johnny?"

"Well,..no, it's not that I don't trust myself, it's just the fact that
my place is so small.. Th- there'd be no room for two more people
moving in." Gage said.

"Uh huh, a likely story.." said Stoker. "We all know how you are,
Mr. Nurse Stalker. Maybe it's a good thing that you lock yourself
away from society in that apartment of yours all alone."

"Very funny. Why don't you go....play golf or something and make
yourself useful."

Grinning slyly, Mike did. "I'm up for a few rounds of golf. Cap? You
coming?"

"Sure. Let me get my jacket. How about the rest of you guys?"

"Too full." sighed Marco.

"My wrist's itching. I'd get distracted and probably hit one
through one of Stoker's expensive bay windows." said Roy.

"I think I'm too drunk to play. I'd probably do the same thing
as DeSoto. " said Chet.

"Don't look at me. I play chess, not golf. In fact, I don't think 
I've ever played a game of real golf my whole life." said Gage.

"Suit yourselves. We'll be back in half an hour." said Stoker.
"Come on, Cap. We'll catch up with these guys later. We'll 
leave the second golf cart here in case any of these turkeys
changes their mind and decides to join us."

Hank grinned and soon, they were gone, zipping away in the 
first golf cart, for hole number one. 



A few minutes later, Gage fell back from the stone balcony
railing and into a contented sigh. "Boy, this is a slice of heaven. 
I hope Stoker knows how good he has it."

"He does. He put in all of this stonework, remember?" 
Roy said, snoozing in a plastic and metal slat chaise lounge. 
He set his bound wrist up over the back of his head to ease the 
itching. 

"I remember, I remember." said Gage irritably. "I'll ..go
do the dishes or something. Chet, burn off some of that alcohol
and get up and help me or you won't be fit to drive home later
tonight."

A snore peeled from Kelly as he lay on the wooden bench in
front of the cozy outdoor fireplace.

Johnny kicked his foot with his sneaker. "Come on, up!  Show
some hospitality and help me dry all the dishes.." Gage told
him as he filled the chrome steel outdoor kitchen sink next
to the mesquite coal glowing grill, with soapy water. "We can
probably clean up and have dessert laid out by the time they
get back."

Kelly snorted and finally sat up and reached for a towel.
"Do I have to? I'll get all hot and s-sweaty working like 
that, man. I wanna snooze. "

"Yeah, it is kinda humid, isn't it? That's odd." said Gage,
peering up into the pure blue sky.

"Don't worry about it, Johnny. I'll help ya." said Marco,
moving to tie on the apron that Stoker had left hanging on
a hook off the stone chimney.



Lopez had just moved away from the side of the patio where
Chet and Roy were snoozing, when a bolt of energy from
the sky cracked down and blew apart the pine tree
framed by the deck. Johnny was thrown backwards ten
feet by the concussion and his ears began ringing even
as his nerves vibrated with a furious buzz of electricity.
::Lightning!:: he thought frantically as he rolled over.

He lifted his head dizzily. "Marco?!"

"I'm right here next to you!" Lopez shouted over the
ringing his own ears were suffering. 

"You okay?"

"Yeah!  What was that?! A power surge from the circuit breaker?"

"No, It must have some lightning. Just look at that tree!" Gage 
coughed. He dragged himself off his stomach.  "Did any of it
touch you?"

Marco rubbed bark out of his eyes and he, too, coughed on
ozone. "No. I think I'm ok...How are the others?"

"The others?!" Johnny shook cobwebs out of his head.

Marco crawled over to Chet where he lay and touched his
shoulder. Kelly immediately began screaming. "I can't see?!
Oww!! Ohmyg*d. Am I talking? I can't hear.. Ohh hoo...GGHH!!
I can't feel anything!!"

Marco grabbed Chet's shoulders. "Go check out Roy, Johnny. 
I got him." Shaking his head, Lopez looked up onto the golf course
to see a bunch of heads turning in their direction. He looked
up higher and saw that Mike Stoker's chimney as well as his Ponderosa
pine tree, were smoking. And he noticed that there wasn't a single 
solitary cloud in the sky.  Not even a white one. ::How can that be?::
he wondered. Then Chet's panicking drew his attention downward.
"Easy, Chet. I'm here.. Lie still.  I got you. You're ok.."

Chet erupted into a new horror. "I can't move my legs, Marco. I'm
deaf!..*gasp* ..Blind!  I can't move my--" his body seized into a spasm
and he grabbed Marco by the arms, yelling in pain.

Johnny ignored them both. He staggered to where he could see Roy's
feet lying toes down underneath the lounge chair. The cast on his
wrist was completely blown away. Fine bits of dust and debris 
from it had settled onto his clothing. And his jeans were shredded 
down one pants leg.  DeSoto wasn't moving. 

"Roy?!"
Gage got to his side and rolled him over, feeling for a carotid
and he quickly began using some fingers to feel at his nose and 
mouth since he still couldn't hear well. "Can you hear me?"

Marco waved at Johnny to get his attention while he held Chet 
down with a second hand on his chest. "How is he?"

"Just a sec! " John gasped, trying to get the stink of heavy
ozone out of his chest enough to talk louder. "He's got
a pulse......but he's not breathing. Not at all... Must have been
some step voltage shooting down the tree into his chair.
It's knocked out his respiratory muscles.." 

He bent down, tilted back Roy's singed head, and
gave him a couple of firm breaths until he got his
chest to rise. He kept at it while his ring finger kept tabs
on Roy's heart rate while he worked to support his
partner until his nerves could recover the ability
to breathe again.

"Chet's paralyzed, Johnny! What do I do?"

"Stay with him. Make sure he keeps breathing. It's 
probably..........keraunoparalysis working on him big time. 
He'll be ........all right. It's all temporary. Keep him from hurting 
himself!" Johnny said, still keeping up his mouth to mouth.
"When he calms down, go inside and call for help. I'm 
fine here......... Roy, come on now. Start breathing! Tell me
you can smell my morning mouth! ..........Start waking up for me, 
pal. The main part of that bolt missed ya completely!" he told 
him. "..so.........I know you aren't hurt that bad. Come on. Pick 
it up again.."

Roy stayed still and Johnny was forced to stay on his head,
and stay being his lungs. ::At least you didn't sick up when you 
fell off the chair.::

He could hear Marco talking to Chet and holding him down onto
the stones until Kelly could get a grip on himself. Finally, he 
heard Chet ask a question. "Marco? Are Johnny and Roy ok?"

Lopez took that as his cue and took off running for the house.
And the phone.

Then, just as fast, he was back. He said. "I'm looking for Cap 
and the others. I think I see them on the second hole. L.A. 
says Station 127's on the way!"

"Good going! Yes! Go get them!" Gage shouted, pushing the 
seared chair out of the way of Roy's legs. 

In between delivering breaths, Johnny felt down DeSoto's limbs 
for fractures or other problems. He knew that tetany of the strength 
that convulsed his partner would have done some kind of harm if 
the current had been strong enough to cause it.

He found only spidering burns on both of Roy's ankles.

He got up and dragged Chet closer to him so Kelly would
know that he hadn't been abandoned. Then he concentrated
on outwaiting Roy's breathing paralysis by offering breaths
every few seconds. He knew they would return by themselves
soon. ::That's how it works. If I prevent secondary hypoxia, we got 
it made. He won't lose a pulse a second time..:: he thought eagerly. 
::There's no way that bolt didn't zap his heart still the first time. It must 
have started up again when he hit the ground so hard.::
 

Two minutes dragged like years, but then Gage spotted Marco's
cart coming fast with Stoker's immediately behind him. "Get my
kit from the land rover!  I got airways in it!" he shouted to them.

The dots they were, quickly grew larger, until suddenly,
they were all there.

-------------------------------------------------------------------

Photo:  Lightning striking a tree in daylight.

Photo:  A stunned Chet on the ground in closeup.

Photo:  A golfer down on the grass.

Photo:  Johnny supporting a hurt Roy's head.

Photo:  Dendritic burns down a leg and ankle.

Photo:  Gage giving mouth to mouth to a man.

***************************************************
From: "Mark" <golfersluve2@yahoo.com> 
Date: Wed Aug 24, 2005  3:17 pm 
Subject: Kel to the rescue   

 
A young paramedic was brought into the room Kel was
occupying while he recovered from his illness and injuries. ::Not
again.:: he thought. ::Last time I was in here, it was young Romeo,
a.k.a. Johnny Gage, whom I had to room with.::

Kel recognized him from the last training class. The harried nurse,
realizing Kel knew the man, told him, "He will be fine. He has a
slight concussion and is dehydrated. I think he will probably sleep
for awhile." She hurried out of the room before Kel could ask her
any further details.

"Dixie would have stayed and talked with me at least for a bit." Kel
mumbled to himself. 

It had been a long quiet Sunday. Drained from the last few days 
of recovering from his illness and the surgery, Kel had been sleeping 
most of the day. Now, however, he was awake and feeling quite 
bored. The nurses that had been in had done the minimum they 
had to do with few words. With the flu going around they were 
covering many extra patients. "Not to mention they really
don't know how to react to having me as a patient." Kel groused. 
"You would think I'm Simon Legree or something." He decided then 
and there that he was not going to make "rooming in" a habit.

After reading from a medical journal for awhile, Kel drifted off to
sleep. He was still quite exhausted from his long ordeal.

Kel wasn't sure what woke him. He looked over and realized the
young paramedic was dreaming. "No, not dreaming, he's having a
nightmare." he said out loud to himself. He watched as the young
man started to jerk. Kel heard him call out something about being
trapped in a fire. Worried, Kel pressed his call button to summon
help.

Kel called out to him, "It's ok, you're safe now. There isn't a
fire here." 

Unfortunately the young man was still caught in the
dream and jerked him arm, breaking off the catheter from his IV.

"Nurse! I need help in here right now!" Kel yelled loudly. Unable
to reach the intercom that would enable him to call for help, Kel
wondered what he could do. ::Maybe I should just go ahead and
attempt to get to him anyway. No, I'd probably fall before I got to
the other side of his bed. I know!:: Kel picked up the phone and
dialed the number he knew so well, the ER phone number.

"I need help in here!" Kel called out again as he waited for
the phone to ring. 

"Rampart Emergency." answered Joe Early. Kel knew the few 
nurses on duty were nowhere near the base station phone.

"Joe, this is Kel. The paramedic they put in my room yanked out his
IV and broke the cath off in his arm. No one is coming to my call
light and nobody's hearing me!"

"I'm on my way, Kel!" Joe responded quickly before hanging up.

"Johnson! Eric! Wake up!!" Kel ordered.

"Huh?" murmured the paramedic, still sleepy and somewhat lost from
waking suddenly.

"Johnson! This is Dr. Brackett. Put your arm down at your side.
You've broken the cath off in your arm. My legs are broken so I
can't get over to you to help you."

Eric looked over at Kel. "What did you say?" he asked.

"Put your arm down towards the floor NOW Eric! Raise the head of
your bed, too, if you can.

Eric, used to following orders, did as he was told.

"Don't worry, I've called for help." Kel assured him. No sooner had
he finished speaking, when Joe burst through the door. Kel,
relieved, relaxed back into the bed. "I managed to get him to wake
up and put his arm down and raise the head, Joe." he stated.

Joe quickly fastened a tourniquet on. "Ok Eric, we're going to take
you out for an x-ray and see where that catheter is at." He examined
the remaining portion hanging from the IV pole. "It looks like you
broke a fair sized piece off. There is a chance it has snagged on
some vein valves."

An orderly with a gurney came in the door just then. Together, Joe
and the orderly got Eric transferred to the gurney, and then the
orderly took him out to have the x-rays done.

"Good job, Kel." Joe commented. "I'm glad you got him awake enough to
respond to you. I'm also very glad you didn't try to get out of bed
to take care of him. That sure wouldn't have been good for those
legs."

"I admit the thought crossed my mind when I couldn't get help here."
Kel confessed. ::I'm not going to admit that the only reason I
didn't was I thought I wouldn't make it.:: he thought. "Luckily my
next thought was to call ER on the phone. I'm just glad I got you."

"Well, I'd better go see about that venous cutdown. We'll
undoubtedly be bringing Eric back later." Joe promised. "Now try to
get some rest. You still have a long recovery ahead of you." Joe
hurried out the door to catch up with his new patient.

Just then Dixie entered the room. "I finally have a day off, Kel. I
thought maybe you could use a little company."

"Hey, Dix!" Kel greeted her with enthusiasm. Kel stopped and
studied her. "You look..."

------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Photos: None.
 
**************************************************
From :  Cassidy Meyers <killashandrarey@hotmail.com> 
Sent :  Thursday, August 25, 2005 3:30 AM 
Subject :  The Best of Friends... 


"....like a sight for these sore eyes. Glad you came so soon."

"Oh? Bored already?" Dixie asked, surprised. "Or is
there something wrong with your pericath?" she said
fussing with the patient gown draped across his chest.

"Nothing's wrong with it. I'm fine. Your first guess was
right on the money so stop acting like a fussing nurse."

"Sorry, it's second nature. So, what's on the agenda for tonight? 
I brought over some more journals for you to read.."

Brackett made a face. "I just had a live case history in
here a few minutes ago..."

"What?"

"Never mind. It's over. Shall we play a game? Sharon
brought me over some from pediatrics. They're in the closet."

A look of mischief came over Dixie's face. "We haven't played
a game since Monopoly over caviar."

"Last year, I know. I'd like to start up again. That's if, you
don't mind." he said self consciously.

"I don't mind.." Dixie smiled. "Not at all, Kel. I was
waiting for you to say that again to me some day."

And gracefully, she settled down onto the bed to take
hold of his hand.


----------------------------------------------------------------------------------


Roy coughed as a firefighter gave him a sixth breath
on the demand valve. "*cough*  Wh--? What happ...ened?
*cough*  Sorry-- Was I caught ...napping again?"

Gage grinned from every dirty pore. "You weren't napping, 
Roy, you were fricaseed.... By lightning. Now hold still for the 
nice paramedic and don't move until we've checked you out." 
Johnny sighed. "Marve, his C collar's secured. Do you 
want to call Rampart? Or shall I?"

Marve cracked a smile. "Who's on duty, Mr. Gage?"

"You are." Johnny answered truthfully with a matching grin.

"Then you have your answer. Hand it here." said
the big burly medic from 127's, holding out his hand for
the biophone receiver. "I'll letcha cut your partner's clothes 
off." he teased, handing Johnny the clothes shears, from his
belt holster.

Gage just made a face and didn't take them. "He doesn't need 
a strip down and you know it. Just patch him in. I'll be back soon. 
I gotta tell your captain where the bolt struck so the truck
crew can check out the area and Stoker's roof, for lingering sparks."

Roy frowned at his surroundings, but he seemed
to have all five senses, unlike Chet. "Wh-where am I?"

Gage's expression fell into worry and analysis. 
"Anterograde amnesia?"

"No, Johnny, you're done.  I'll fill him in." said Marve. "Why don't 
you go help my partner get Kelly squared away. Roy's vitals are 
stable now that he's breathing and I actually believe ya that he 
never lost his color. Justlookatthosereactivepupils." he gushed, 
checking out Roy's eyes with his penlight with a flourish.

Johnny's frown started to falter into a wisp of a smile. But then 
DeSoto winced at the beam and made out a few facts.
"Ok, I'm hurt. How hurt am I?"

Johnny started to open his mouth.

"Ah, ah ah...Johnny boy. Leave him to me." Marve said.
"Just go." he grinned.

Johnny stood, wiping cast soot off of his hands. He held up a mock
threatening finger. "If he throws off so much as a single PVC..."
he warned.

Marve threw up innocent hands. "I hear ya. I'll tell ya. Now shoo.."

Gage walked over to the second ambulance trying to hide
how sore his muscles were with all the dignity he could muster.

Marco Lopez was still with Chet and holding his hand tightly.

Lopez glanced up when he heard Johnny coming. "He
still can't see or hear. He's pretty frightened. He only
seems to calm down if someone's touching him."
he said, adjusting the flowing oxygen mask over Chet's face.

"I'll get a sedative order.." said Bill, Marve's paramedic partner.
"But I don't know how I'm gonna get it into him because I don't
know how to tell him that he's gonna have an I.V. started. Not
with him being out of the loop like this and all." he teased Gage.

"I know how.. Just gimme that, you....crazy character. I appreciate
you and Marve trying to make me feel better about them.  I can
solve this problem. It's easy, man. Just act like normal. Watch.." 
Gage said, taking a latex band from out of Bill's shirt pocket. 

He made an obvious show tying it off around Chet's bare upper 
arm and miraculously, Kelly froze still, recognizing the pressure band being put
around his arm. He started fussing when Johnny began smacking the
bend in his elbow to raise a sluggish vein. "Oh, no.. not an I.V." he whined.
"If the doc says I gotta have a med, do it IM. I know my rights.
Last thing I want is having my muscle cramps breaking off an
I.V. catheter in my arm.." he quipped even as another full body spasm 
twisted him up onto his side on the gurney. "I may be a male Helen Keller
right now but I'll be d*mned if I'm gonna be mute about it." he added.
"Johnny, shame on you. You know how much I hate I.V.s. You should've
told them I won't accept one unless my life's in danger."

Bill, the paramedic, just rolled his eyes. "Heaven help the nurse 
who's gonna get stuck taking care of him."

Gage flashed 127's senior an annoyed look. "I'll give him
the shot if you get me an order for it. Chet doesn't mind me
giving them to him. Just tell me what for.. and the dosage."

"You might wanna DOUBLE it.." Bill winked as he moved
to his partner's side to take his turn on the biophone.

Despite himself, Johnny burst out laughing, but then he staggered,
falling against the fireman monitoring Kelly.

Bill grabbed Gage's arm. "Whoa..whoa. Hang on just a minute
there. I thought you said that the lightning never touched either of
you guys."

Marco suddenly sat down, too. "It didn't." he said. "Oh, I'm dizzy.."

Captain Stanley hurried up with a resuscitator tank already fitted
with two demand valves. "You twits, I told you not to cover
your symptoms from them." Then Hank eyeballed Bill. "Both took in 
pretty good lungfuls of ozone at fairly high concentrations for a few 
seconds."

"Huh.." Bill mulled that over. "Gonna be some touchy arrythmias in 
their future. For Roy and Chet, too."
 
"Don't I know it." Cap grumbled. "Gage! Lopez! Get ventilating and 
then get yourselves checked out! Looks like you both earned yourselves
a free ekg reading and a night's stay at Rampart. So lie down and shut up."

"I think I will." said Johnny, turning green. He never felt a second firefighter
help him down to the ground or felt the mask that Cap set quickly 
over his face.

Dimly, he was aware that Marco, Roy and Chet had fallen into the same 
state and were being cared for.

---------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------


A few hours later, fate had dealt a funny hand out at Rampart. 

Eric Johnson hadn't come back. He had to go to the intensive
care unit when another surprise piece of the catheter fragment 
suddenly showed up in one of his lungs.

That had left five beds free in Dr. Brackett's six bed room.

Brackett was still grumbling over his and Joe's bad luck concerning 
Eric the rookie paramedic, when all four firemen from 51's were wheeled 
into the recovering doctor's room. "You've got to be kidding me. 
Dix, did you arrange this?" he snapped.

"Me? Kel, we've been up here playing Yatzee together all afternoon. So
how could I have arranged for-- Fellas, ohmygosh. What happened to
the four of you?" she said oggling the four EKG monitors attached to
Chet, Johnny, Roy and Marco's upper torsos.

"Four birds with one stone..." Hank explained, holding the door open
for Mike Stoker. "Or should I say, bolt of lightning."

"Oh my.." Dixie gasped. "I didn't know it had even rained."

"It didn't. It was a freak bolt. Caused by some daylight ground fog
and built up tetonic static." Hank replied.

"You should have seen them, Dixie." Mike said of his coworkers.
"After they got done rescuing each other, the ozone poisoning set in. 
They each puked for half an hour. Straight." Stoker smiled.

"Ah, so that's why they all got I.V.s.  How are they doing?"

Hank filled her in eagerly. "Roy got lung trigger knocked for a while.
No damage past some sizzled skin since Gage was on hand to take over.
Chet here's temporarily blind and deaf. He's only a noodle from the 
waist down...."

"That'll pass, too.." Brackett said through his annoyed cross armed stance
before he could stop it.

"Yeah?" murmured Dixie, sitting by Chet's bed to take his hand in
hers. "Poor guy. He looks so lost and helpless."

Chet Kelly immediately smiled when he recognized her perfume. "Hi,
Dixie. Wish I could ask you how you're doing, but I can't hear any
answer you might give me yet. Sorry.."

She kissed Chet's cheek slowly and made him blush into muteness
after giving him a shiver. "Ok, so what's the story about the second half 
of the room?" she said, rising to go check on Roy's oxygen supply
while he slept fitfully under a CPAP.

"Gage and Lopez had just that bad gas exposure and both are waiting 
for their cardiac rhythms to settle back to normal." Stoker told her.

Dixie adjusted Roy's I.V. so it was no longer kinked against the bed rail.
"Ah, I see.. so that means that we all get to throw a sleepover party
tonight in Kel's room, is that it?"

"No, Dix.." sputtered Dr. Brackett. 

Dixie ignored him. "Yes. Why don't we have some fun for once. I can 
take the empty bed here and Cap, I know there's a couple of spare cots 
in the closet , for you and Stoker, so, any decision making's now final." she 
purred. "Kel, they're staying." she said iron voiced. "I'm sure you'll agree
with me real soon. After all, these men did save your life."

Dr. Brackett finally ground his teeth together and uttered........

------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Photo:  A firefighter being given oxygen by an ambulance attendant.
             (Real life NY fireman looking a lot like Randy Mantooth.)

***************************************************
From :  wone3 <jwilds@starpower.net> 
Sent :  Wednesday, August 24, 2005 10:12 PM 
Subject :  [EmergencyTheaterLive] The start of reckoning 


"A sleepover, Dix? At least, you could have called it something else. 
It sounds too little girlish to me." 

The entire group chuckled. 
Probably most of them were surprised that the Doc even knew 
about such things considering he was the confirmed bachelor.  

Dixie then kicked Cap and Mike out along with herself, telling the guys 
she'd see them in the morning with hopefully their release papers. "All 
except you Kel, you have a few more days here," She grinned. 

Kel just gave her a look thinking, ::Last time it was bad enough getting 
stuck with young Romeo, but why do I have to get stuck with the whole bunch? 
I just hope we have a quiet night. :: 

Kel was lucky, the whole incident took enough out of the guys that they 
went to sleep all night and were all discharged the next morning with the 
stipulation that Roy and Chet were going to miss at least the next shift.


---------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------


It was around 6pm that evening when Dixie wearily walked into Kel's 
room. Joe had been up to check on Kel several times and let him know 
that he had planned on letting him out of the hospital with a few 
restrictions tomorrow. Kel had also noticed the other night that 
Dixie looked a little tired but she had put on a good show for the 
guys when they came in. This time she couldn't hide it. She had the 
classic symptoms of being tired and run down; especially glassy eyes 
with dark circles that make-up couldn't hide.

"You look like something the cat dragged in. What's going on?" Kel 
asked in a concerned tone as he took in Dixie's appearance.

"After the past several days that I have had, you'd look like this 
too, Kel. Pulling a couple double shifts, worrying about friends who 
have been in accidents over several days, and being called back in 
after pulling the first double shift; has not made the past few days 
fun, Kel." Dixie answered trying not to raise her no-nonsense temper. 

Dixie curbed herself. Kel didn't entirely need the lecture and it would 
just show him how vulnerable she felt that night when she and Joe initially 
received the call. They were in the middle of one of those "off stages" in 
their "on again- off again" relationship and she didn't want his pity 
as a motive to start the relationship back up.

Kel had been waiting for this ever since the day after the accident; 
he knew Dixie wouldn't go into it right after surgery. He just hadn't 
figured on dealing with her after a couple of double shifts, the guys 
from 51 being in the night before as patients, and a call back 
in shift. "I'm sorry," he started to apologize.

Dixie interrupted, "Look, Kel, I know that you are sorry for putting 
both Joe and I through h*ll especially initially, but you need to 
face facts, even if it deflates your ego. You aren't Superman or God 
and when you are sick, as much as I suspect you thought you were when 
the accident occurred, you need to stay home and be sick. This place 
will survive if you have to take a few days off, Kel, trust me." 
Dixie's voice eased off to her gentle caring one that she seemed to 
only display for him.

"I know I deserved that, Dix. You are right in saying that I'm not 
Superman. I think I just need the reminder once in a while." Kel 
answered. It brought a smile to both of them.
"Look, let me make it up to you. Let me buy you dinner at Manny's 
soon and we can talk more. It will be nothing more than a friendly 
dinner." Kel said, knowing how Dixie would hate to restart their 
relationship over something like this. ::It's strange how we really 
do know each other way too well:: "What caused you to be called in 
after a double shift anyway, Dix? That almost never happens."

"Same reason for the first unscheduled double shift in the first 
place. I am down nurses to this darn flu. Started with four being out 
when you were brought in. It's now up to twelve. The call in was for a 
nasty pileup on the 405. Something like, at least, forty cars involved. 
We had to bring everybody back with the shortage of personnel, both 
doctors and nurses." Dix answered with a sigh.

"How much longer are you on shift, Dix?" Kel asked.

"I just got off, and wanted to check on you before I left. I also 
wanted to let you know that Joe told me that he's letting you out of 
here tomorrow. I can give you a ride home and I can stick around for a bit. 
I also accept your dinner invitation." Dixie answered with a yawn.

"Dix, are you ok enough to drive home? I don't want hear that one of 
our guys had to bring you in after wrapping your car around 
something." Kel said.

Dixie smiled, "I'm fine Kel, but I am going to go straight home. 
Good night, Kel."

Kel answered with a smile, "Night, Dix. Drive carefully."

Dixie then walked out of the room, shutting the door behind her. She 
headed straight downstairs to her car and drove home, all the time 
thinking how lucky they were, that Kel was still around to talk to. 

A few short minutes later she pulled into a parking spot, parked her 
car, locking it as she exited, entered her apartment and headed 
straight to bed for a good night's sleep.

---------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Photos: None.

********************************************************************
From: "killashandrarey01" <killashandraRey@hotmail.com> 
Date: Thu Aug 25, 2005  1:00 pm 
Subject: Fish Eggs and Morning Mouth... 


It was Tuesday morning, two days after the lightning strike
and the morning after Dixie had had a good night's sleep.


Hank Stanley buttoned up his work shirt swiftly. "Come on,
come on... If we're gonna get this done before lunch time
or another call, we gotta leave now."

Marco sniggered. "Cap, are you sure we aren't breaking any
rules by showing up at Rampart with the vehicles on a non
emergency call?"

Hank stared at Lopez as if he had grown a third eyeball.
"How many years have I been a captain, Marco?" was
all he said.

"Uhhh...."

Gage, next to him, whistled low under his breath,..
"Too many..." so Stanley wouldn't hear him.

Cap, covering for any rank differential fallout, offered his
excuse belatedly to stave off any further criticism.. "Headquarters 
knows the two of you have to get your final checkout at 
Rampart...."

"Hi, guys..."
"Mornin, all..." said two voices from Roy and Chet as they
came walking in through the side door from the backyard
parking lot.

"....Correction, the four of you."  Hank amended.

DeSoto fielded enthusiastic greetings from the others
as he quickly caught up changing into his uniform. Chet
was a few seconds faster. "The four of us, what?"

Marco told him. "As soon as we're set, we're stationing
at Rampart so the four of us can get our final medical
clearances from Joe Early to work today.."

"No, kidding? Is there a parking space big enough to
hold the Ward?" Kelly asked like a kid catching another
doing something naughty.

"Yes, there is.." answered Stoker with a "duh" tone in his voice.

"Of course." breathed Chet. "Our engineer would know."

"What a memory, Stoker.." admired Marco. "It's been, what?
Five years since that fire at Rampart in the research buildings.
Through all that chaos, in the middle of the night, you still scoped 
out the REGULAR parking places?"

"Yep. I gotta learn all the fast outs on any scene in case the chief ever 
orders a pull back." replied Mike. "Consider it an unwritten rule of 
the trade."

"That's why I keep him on.." winked Hank at the others. "He
keeps expensive property whole without my telling him to."

Stoker smiled at the surprise compliment.

Roy spoke up, "Speaking of memory...." and he glared at
Johnny to his right. "Your answer is yes. I did smell it."

"Smell what?" Johnny asked in confusion.

"Your morning mouth..." DeSoto snapped. "Next time,
drink a little water beforehand before you help someone out."

Chet Kelly looked up in confusion. "Just what the heck
did that mean? Hey,....Cap? I think DeSoto's still got a few
brain cells addled."

"Yeah, well. It'll be up to Joe Early to determine that."
Cap said, not getting it. "That's why we're leaving, 
remember?" he teased.

Gage just closed his mouth with a grin and didn't say
anything. He ignored Roy's continued glare at his back
while he dressed.

Marco got it, though. He whispered to Johnny.
"I keep forgetting how good unconscious people can
recall things during a rescue.."

"I was counting on it that day.." Gage admitted to
him. "Roy wasn't listening to me then. At all. So I
had to do something drastic to get his attention."

Roy just slammed his locker shut and went out on
Cap's order to the squad.

"How's the wrist doing?" Gage hollered after him.

Roy didn't answer him, intentionally.

Lopez said, "And he's not listening to you now."

"What else is new?" Gage sighed.


"Let's go, Stoker!" hollered Cap in the bay.

That hustled the rest of the gang with their socks and shoes 
and belt instrument gear. They had to hurry to keep up.

Marco turned to Kelly. "Did you get it?"

"Of course, I got it. Is he still in the same room?"
Chet asked.

"Yeah, Dixie called this morning and said so."

"So what did you get? Vanilla or chocolate?"

"Both, in a swirly. I couldn't decide.." said Chet.

"That'll be good enough. Chances are, Brackett
will throw the cake in all our faces for even bringing it."

"Nah, he won't." said Chet. "People change when
they come close to dying and survive it."

"It didn't change Roy." Marco sighed.

"Huh?"

"Never you mind. Put your seat belt on.." said Lopez 
as he buckled his.


Soon, the engine and the squad were rolling.

"L.A., this is Station 51." called Cap out on the mic.

##Station 51, this is L.A.##

"We'll be 10-8 to Rampart with both. Base location
will be there for an hour. We are available."

##10-4, 51.## came Headquarter's reply.

Behind Cap's engine seat Chet muttered.
"Well, that was easy."

"Course it was. L.A. knows how to roll with the punches."
Hank sighed contently. "I knew that would work."

"Do they know we're having a going home party to
go along with all the medical checks?"

"Nope." smirked Stoker. "Why should they? We're doing
everything by the book and anything else is.... at the 
captain's decretion."

"D*mned right it is. Step on it. I'm getting hungry for
cake. Dessert first, I always say."

Chet's mouth dropped open. "Cap! How'd you know
I got a cake for Dr. Brackett?"

"I'm aware of anything new entering the station."

Kelly and Lopez gave Cap suspicious looks and 
they grew uncomfortable. "H-how does he know?"
they whispered to each other.

Cap let them off the hook. "Guys, I only knew because
I had to chase Henry away from the rear compartment
before I climbed on board a minute ago. He only
scrabbles at the engine doors when he's looking for food."

Stoker whirled around in the driver's seat."He was
scratching my engine's paint job?!"

"No, no..no.." Hank grinned. "I stopped him before
he got even two paws up on the panel. Aren't I nice?" 
bubbled Cap.

Stoker was barely appeased and he took the last corner
leading to Rampart a little fast.

Chet complained. "Hey, Stoker. Slow down! You'll spoil
the frosting!"

---------------------------------------------------------------------------- 


The gang left their overcoats in the trucks to avoid worrying
the public folk in the hospital and soon, the gang was
knocking at the door of Dr. Brackett's patient room, with
the cake.

"Ok, everybody, now pipe down. Is everybody here?"
Kelly asked. He turned his head and saw Dr. Early, Carol, Sharon
his whole crew and even the x-ray techs, all present and 
accounted for. "Ok, I'm opening the door..."

"Surprise!!" shouted everybody. "Happy going home day!"

Their mouths just about fell open when they swung into the room
and found Dr. Brackett, fully in street clothes, reverse entwining his arms
with Dixie's, while they both ate crackers smothered with caviar, over
an open Monopoly board.

Brackett opened his mouth, raining fish eggs and cracker crumbs 
and he said...
 
---------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Photos: None.

********************************************************************
Date: Thu, 25 Aug 2005 09:57:19 -0700 (PDT) 
From: "Jeff Seltun" <finiterider@yahoo.com>     
Subject:  Reflections.. 
 

"Oh, that's just great, the gang's all here! ...Again!" he groused in
his worst doctor mode. Kel's face turned multishades of
angry that matched his blistering tone.

Everybody in the doorway, froze.

But then the most miraculous thing happened, Kel Brackett's
face softened, and then he actually smiled.

Eyes darted everywhere, but no one moved for being 
still in the grip of the shocking sight, stunned.

Dixie finished popping the fish egg smeared wafer into
her mouth, chewing. Then she wiped off the crumbs from Kel's
brand new striped shirt, "I was wondering when you'd show up.
Did you bring it?" she asked.

"Uh,....yes?" peeped Sharon, who had been in on the whole thing.

"Hiya, guys. I got the plates already set up on the next table. Come on
in..." Dixie said brightly after that. 

"Gotcha!"  said Brackett, "I was only kidding. Dixie's been giving
me lessons on how to pull a fast one.  Ah, Joe. I see you brought
your doctor's bag. Are you here to give me a clean ticket outta bed?"

Slowly, the gang realized that they had been had and filed
into the room. Joe Early was quickest to assume normalcy.
"That and four others. For the boys here, too." he said, throwing his
head over his shoulders at Chet, Johnny, Roy and Marco.

Kel grinned as he helped Dixie clear the board game and
the crumbs from the made up bedspread. "Chet, how are
your eyes doing? Have they stopped giving you problems
with long distance?" he asked.

Chet Kelly was bold and reached for some of Dixie's caviar.

She slapped his hand, "Do you know how much this stuff costs?"

"Yeah.." Kelly dipped his finger into the roe anyway, to taste it. 
"Doc, the eye chart you gave me still wavers on me when I look up
first thing in the morning, but only for a few seconds. Then it's all peachy 
for the rest of the day. But don't worry. I don't drive anything at work 
and I'm not going into any burning buildings for a while. Cap won't 
let me."

"That's for your own good." Dixie waggled a finger at Kelly.
"Both Kel and Joe were in on that one."

"I kinda figured that." Kelly admitted.

Mike Stoker came forward with the cake. "Dr. Brackett, this is
for you. Uh,..I'm afraid the baker didn't know what a K-12 was
or even a jaws tool for that matter for the frosting picture, but
we gotcha a toy stethoscope for a decoration.. Here.." he
said handing the heavy cake over onto Kel's patient table.

"Oh, thanks guys. Although I think you've got things all backwards
here. You saved my life, not the other way around." Dr. Brackett
grinned.

"We were thinking about the others times, Dr. Brackett.." Roy
said. "From other years..." he whispered.

Joe Early missed nothing. "Hey, where's MY cake then? I saved
a fair bunch of you then, too." he chuckled.

"We'll share.." said Kel, being a mediator.

Soon, they were all eating.

Joe had set up a small exam tray on the other side of the room with
a live EKG monitor decorated in balloons and ribbons that Sharon
had wheeled in behind her. "Kel, you get the first clear all reading. Sit 
down.." he said, patting a chair next to the bed. "Chet, would you get 
Kel's BP? That way, I'll know you remember how to do one, and I'll 
be able to tell whether or not you got your whole hearing back or not, 
ok?"

"Hmmm, trusting a firefighter to examine me? I don't know..." Kel frowned.
But then he laughed. "Give it a go, Kelly. This is your test." he said
while he watched Sharon, Dixie and Joe patch him into the EKG. 
"Joe give Kelly your stethoscope."

"Ok.." laughed Dr. Early. "The pointy things go in your ears."

Chet smirked. "I think I got that part down ok, doc. Thanks."



Kel unbuttoned his shirt a little wider for the last EKG lead.

Everyone took in a gasp.

Gage squinted at Brackett's chest and said, "See guys? I told you, three
bandaid holes and a row of stitches under the collar bone. Just like
I said..." he exclaimed, pointing. Then he said, "Say, doc... They did a 
nice job on the sewing..."

Brackett chuckled. "I get only the best, I guess. Who's work is this, Joe?"
he said, trying to peer at the stitches where the pericath used to be, 
still glistening under their steristrips. 

"Ryder's. He insisted."

"I should have known." said Kel. "He's a lefty. All the suture knots are 
tied backwards. But they sure are even.. Maybe I should save some of
this cake for Ryder,.. to thank him."

Joe studied Kel's EKG strip silently, not letting Kel see the monitor
at all. "Nah, It might inflate his ego a little too much...."

"Well?" Kel asked of Chet Kelly and Joe Early after another minute
had gone by.

"NSR, Kel. No abnormalities whatsoever." replied Early...
"136/98..?" replied an only slightly fumbling Chet, pulling off Joe's 
expensive stethoscope.

"Congratulations, gentlemen. You both passed... Next...?" Joe said.

"I'll go.." said Roy, stripping off his button down and pulling up his
T shirt. 

All the nurses in the room cat called.

Roy just rolled his eyes. "Don't let my wife catch you doing that, or she'll
probably have a complex." he teased.  DeSoto sighed and good naturedly 
let them patch him into the datascope monitor. At the same time, Joe
listened to Roy's lungs. "Take a breath. And.....another one...."

Kel leaned forward, reading Roy's screen. "Hmmm, I don't know, Joe."

"What..? What do you doctors see?" asked DeSoto, suddenly worried.

"He's got a pulse. Think that might be a problem?" Dr. Brackett quipped.

Dixie smacked him on the arm. "Oh, Kel...Roy, you're fine. The QRS intervals
are normal.."

"Since when did you become the cardiograph expert?" Kel asked Dixie.

"Well," said Dixie. "..since I first started dating one, six years ago..."
she whispered, and then she kissed him full on the lips, right in front of
everybody.

The whole room burst out laughing, a few, with a crow of mock innuendo.

Kel was good enough to blush.

Marco and Chet and Gage were examined and given clear bills of health 
in short order. Then the whole room filled with the buzz of animated 
conversation as everyone broke off into splinter groups to finish their 
cake and ice water.

Joe was in a group with the five he had medically okayed and he found himself
listening to Roy while the others looked on.

"Doc," said Roy. "What I can't understand, is why that lightning didn't kill
me outright. I mean.." he crossed his arms shyly. "..I feel pretty normal inside,
all things considering..."

Chet broke into the conversation. "What Roy means to ask you, doc, is
why did Gage find him with smoking shoes and clothes but nothing at
all coming from his hide...?"

DeSoto nodded. "Y- Yeah. Thanks, Chet. That's it. That's it exactly."

"Anytime, bro.." Kelly replied, wrinkling his nose with a grin.

Joe sniffed, popping into lecture mode, and he said. "I've found that lightning 
doesn't usually enter the body on strike victims, but flashes over the exterior 
instead. Sure, some charges may leak into the body via the eyes, ears or mouth, 
to cause senses loss, as in Chet's case, but most of the current from a lightning 
strike passes over the surface of the body in an external flashover. 
Burns are usually superficial, and usually caused by objects heating up
close to the skin, ...belt buckles, bracelets, rings. It is not uncommon to not have 
severe burns, but on the other hand, clothing can be blasted from the body.
Such as that cast you used to be wearing.."

"Oh,..uh, that.." said Roy subconsciously. He began to rub his wrist when 
he remembered that he no longer had it on.

Dr. Brackett crossed his arms, crossly. "So.., you wanted out of your cast
bad enough that you just had to go invite a lightning strike to get it off?!" he
mocked roared.  Then he smiled. "Come on, let me see it."

Roy gave Kel his left arm. Dr. Brackett began to manipulate it gently in
an exam. "Does this hurt?"

Roy was honest. "It's stiff, and the spongy bone itches something fierce, but no,
it doesn't hurt."

"Can you bear weight on it ok?"

Chet Kelly spoke up again. "We ran a few CPR sets on a manikin at Roy's house.
He did just fine, doc."

Roy just held up his hand at Chet to say "what he said."

Dr. Brackett nodded. "Mr. Kelly, could you let Roy answer this next question?
It's kind of important."

"Sure, doc.." said Chet, not taking any offense at all.

"Ok..." said Dr. Brackett. And then he sat knee to knee with Roy. "Do you
remember everything that happened to you on Sunday afternoon? Tell me
as much as you remember. The paramedics who treated you said that you
were demonstrating signs of anterograde amnesia. Joe and I just want to
check to see if you still are. The effects of the lightning should've worn off
by now if it was going to."


Roy took a breath and started speaking. 
"Well.... I remember eating a really nice steak. Stoker's recipes are the best.." 
he grinned nervously. "But then I think I decided to take a nap on a chair under 
the pine tree.. Then, I began to think that something was starting to get a little
funny."

Hank spoke up, "Yeah and around that time, I got the impression that something
wasn't right, too.  I glanced back at the house and I saw Stoker's TV antennae 
throwing sparks!  I thought, those dorks, they're overloading a fuse box..

I started running back for the golf cart. But before I could do that, about 1,000 
feet away, I began to feel a strange, intense, pressurized sensation around my 
head. My hair stood on end, and I immediately crouched into a low ball with only 
the bottom of my feet touching ground. The barbed wire fence across the golf 
course sizzled with sparks; and I thought I was going to die any second. Then,
I knew the energy build up for what it was.. Lightning.."


Roy nodded, "I didn't know it was building up so far away, Cap. I remember  
shouting. I was blasted off my feet in a roaring vortex of energy and sound. 
I felt my body hit the ground and as I did, a searing heat and burning began 
passing through my left side through my rib cage. I was surrounded by a force 
field blanketing me to the ground. Either the current was going through me or 
electricity from the ground was meeting the bolt in the tree. I couldn't tell for
sure. 

I thought to myself, I can't believe I just said this and it's happening! 
There was a humming I felt more than heard. My body vibrating, and the 
intensity of the searing heat was scaring me.  All along I thought if it stopped in 
time, one of the guys could help me. And luckily the current began to lessen. 
My side felt scalded and puffy.  I could see the sky and hear the wind, 
and it was over... 
 

The next thing I knew is that it was dark, calm, and quiet and that I wasn't breathing. 
Like something had knocked the wind out of me ...but with no pain.. I started to 
think that it's time to breathe now, so I tried to concentrate on that, but I couldn't. 
After what seemed like ten or fifteen minutes, I got my first breath and the lights 
went back on in a bang, but I couldn't move or feel much of anything."
Roy looked up. "Was I talking, Johnny?"

Gage met his eyes evenly. "After a while. After we put a lot of O2 into ya."

DeSoto's eyes clouded again. "I felt like I was in a dream..... that I wasn't able
to wake up from.  I did notice a strange, sweet burning smell..."

Johnny cleared his throat uncomfortably.

"Not you.. that was something different. It was all the ozone, doc, at that point." 
Roy said. "Later at the hospital, I was able to see the spider web tracks across 
both my feet and lower legs, the only sign of what I had gone through."  
Roy blinked and returned back to the present. "Fortunately, they faded rather 
quickly." he said. "But I still feel like I've been kicked by a mule! " he chuckled.


"Be glad you aren't a horse, Roy." Hank commented.

"Why?"  DeSoto asked.

"Because your legs aren't very far apart. Sitting on that chair like you were,
protected you somewhat. A person who has one foot closer than the other to the 
strike point will have a potential difference between the feet so that a current may 
be induced to flow through the legs and body. This is a frequent killer of large livestock 
such as cattle and horses because the distance between their hind legs and forelegs,
is so great." Stanley explained.

"Oh, so you mean, because I was crossing my legs, the lightning, sort of,
skipped over me after brushing my feet?"

Joe agreed. "Something like that, yes."

Roy stretched in his chair. "Boy, I never knew that having bad posture
would someday save my life... My mother used to tell me that
crossing my legs was bad for circulation.."

"It is.. but only if you have circulation problems." admitted Joe. "Kel,
he sure remembers a whole lot more of his near death experience
than most patients I know. I'd say he's recovered enough to be able
to work today.. What do you think?"

"I agree, Joe. Roy, how do you feel?" Kel asked seriously.

"Well, I still have problems sleeping. Seems like since the strike, I...
can't seem to doze off for long periods before waking up again."

Marco spoke up. "That's been happening to all of us.." he said, pointing
to Gage, Chet and himself. "We've talked about it."

"It has?" Cap asked.

Gage nodded.

Joe spoke up again. "Some people can be slightly injured by lightning and not 
have a scratch on them. It's like a computer damaged by a power surge.
On the surface, the hardware appears fine, but when the machine is rebooted, 
the software malfunctions. And insomnia is the most commonly reported side
effect following a lightning hit."

Johnny was shocked. "Then, does that mean Marco and I were hit, too?"

"More than likely. You probably just don't remember it." Kel answered.

Gage and the others fell silent.

"But,.. I wouldn't worry about it. That's probably a good thing. There's
nothing critical that Joe and I noticed today that could possibly effect
your day to day activities." Dr. Brackett said. "In fact, you guys appear
normal in just about every aspect that matters."

"That's right." Joe said. "Lightning-strike survivors can suffer from over 
ninety symptoms. And some, don't start cropping up for weeks or even
years. But, if you don't feel like you're suffering from any.."

"A symptom which doesn't feel like a symptom.." Kel recited.

"...IS no symptom. I know.." sighed Johnny. 

Chet was fussing in his chair, quietly. "Does this mean that I'll
need glasses at some point in my future?" he asked the doctors.

"Oh, Chet, everyone does at some time or another.." Gage
said in exasperation. "It's no big deal.."

"If the early morning blurring starts to bother you, we can
certainly prescribe a pair for you." Dr. Early offered.

"Just for reading, of course." Brackett tempered.

Roy was thoughtful. "Chet, I don't think you should snowball
on things concerning this. Please. Let's all just give this some time, ok?
I'm not glad you're hurt," he said softly to him, "but I'm glad that I'm 
not the only one. That way we can talk about it whenever we feel like it."

"That's the spirit." Dixie said. She had been listening to
Roy's account, with tears in her eyes. "Come on, boys, 
we've got a party to enjoy."


--------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- 

 Photo:  Lightning in a daylight sky.

 Photo:  Man in a lightning crouch.

 Photo:  A split tree, ground level.

 Photo:  Johnny and Brackett talking in hospital.

 Photo:  Roy, serious shot, at Rampart.

 Photo:  Caviar and crackers.

 Photo:  A Monopoly board in play.

**************************************************
From:  "Patti K"     <pattik1@hotmail.com>
    and.. From: "Mark"      <golfersluve2@yahoo.com>
    and.. From: "wone3"    <jwilds@starpower.net> 
Date: Thu Aug 25, 2005  (afternoon hours- pm) 
Subject: The Defining Run... 


Station 51 went roaring down the highway with sirens blaring
and lights flashing to their next call, which was being
broadcast even as they left Rampart General Hospital.

 ##Station 51, Station 8, Station 99, Station 36, Truck 127,
Battalion 14, Dam burst, Castaic Lake at Hughes Lake Road.
Multiple persons stranded, injuries reported. Ambulances are
responding as well as police. Time out, 10:37.##

"Oh, man.... 
Roy, this sounds like a really bad one." Johnny moaned.

"I'm afraid so, Junior, I'm afraid so." responded Roy sadly. "It's
times like this where I'm both very glad I'm in this line of work as well
as wanting to hate it with all my being."

"I know what you mean, Pally. I know what you mean." agreed a
solemn Johnny.

It wasn't long until they reached Hughes Lake Road and took in the
horrible sight. Many people were leaving in a complete panic.

"Where on earth do we start, Roy? I sure don't envy the Chief right
now." Johnny commented.

"Me either, Johnny. Well, let's go." he said as he pulled 
over the squad.  
 
They got out and proceeded to pull some gear as the engine team
pulled in behind them. People were running toward them with a
scared look in their eyes. 

The rest of the engine crew held back as Captain Stanley grabbed 
one of the lesser frightened bystanders and asked. "What happened?"

"Everything was great. It was a clear, relaxing day. And then all of
the sudden, the alarms by the dam started going off. No one could
understand why. And then I could see some cracks forming in the dam!
There were people on top of the dam, also, from what I could see. Once
I saw those cracks, I just ran just like everybody else." he said.

"Roy, John.." Captain Stanley started. 

Nothing more had to be said as the guys grabbed the basic gear 
they had pulled and headed toward the dam, following the trail while 
avoiding the stampede of people. 

The trail had a pretty big turn and once they rounded that turn they
saw..

-------------------------------------------------------------------------

Photos:  None.

*************************************************************
From Patti or Jeff or Cassidy  <theaterhost@voyagerliveaction.com>
Date: Mon, 29 Aug 2005 19:05:41 -0700 (PDT) 
Subject:  [EmergencyTheaterLive] S.n.a.f.u.s. Compounded... 


...a large earthen dam, oddly colored in newly applied, bright, 
red, white and blue colors that spelled out words that Cap 
couldn't yet make out.

"What th-?" Hank blurted. 

The male witness started stammering self consciously.
"Please don't have us arrested!  W-we didn't mean any harm
climbing on the dam. W-we just wanted to celebrate the 
bicentennial. You know, as a joke. So we painted it. 
To surprise everybody."

Captain Stanley nodded his head grimly even as he smiled.
"Your dam defacement stunt's probably gonna save a lot of lives, 
mister. If you hadn't been up there, no one would have noticed
those cracks forming at all, until it was too late. Good job!"

The man's jaw fell right open.

"Now tell me just how many of your bunch is in danger. I've
got men making their way down there right now."

"Four. No, five... I think.  Oh, I don't know!" he panicked, rubbing
blue paint across his face that accompanied the gaudy red
and white splashed all over him.

"Go find out, or people are gonna start drowning if we can't find them
just as fast as we possibly can. There isn't much time left."


The man started blithering. But then he moved.

Cap ordered. "I want you back here as soon as you know more!"

The man ran to locate the others in his group.

Hank had a thought. He pulled out his HT. "Roy, Johnny. Watch
for victims who might be covered with red white and blue paint! 
:: If they've been hurrying as much as this guy to commit graffiti, 
they're most likely coated in the stuff just as bad!:: he mused. 
"Be sure to keep a firm tie off on your lifelines while you search 
below!"

##10-4, Cap.## said Gage over the handy talkie. Shortly, Roy
skidding downwards on the dry dust of the river's edge, replied
as well.

Cap updated L.A. "L.A., this is Engine 51. We've located
the incident.  Breach is on the downriver side of the Prado dam. 
Not the larger expanse. Repeat. The main resevoir is uneffected.
Only the riparian causeway's structural integrity is failing. 
Large cracks are evident in the spillway dike twenty feet high. 

We're getting reports of at least five victims in danger of being 
swept away by escaping water. As yet, we haven't been able to 
spot them. Respond a seventh alarm assignment and an all terrain 
extrication team a.s.a.p!"

##10-4, 51. USAF has been notified. Also, Chopper nine is available
for your victim search. They report their E.T.A. as four minutes.##

"10-4, L.A. Engine 51 out." Cap shouted over the hissing of
violated churning water. He stood on the edge of the basin and
started scanning the washfield with a pair of binoculars so
he could direct his crews to the unseen, trapped people he knew
were still below. ::Four minutes is an eternity! Those people haven't 
got four minutes. Two if we're very, very lucky.:: he thought unhappily.
::Battalion 14's not gonna like this one bit.::

He knew the Prado dam's specs. Changes and additions to the flood control 
earthfill dam, built in 1941, now bestrided three California counties: Orange, 
Riverside and San Bernardino. Then, only 100,000 people lived downstream 
of the dam in areas that were affected by flooding on the Santa Ana River. But today,
he knew over 2 million people lived downstream of the dam, in an area full of homes 
and businesses and places like Disneyland and Knott’s Berry Farm.

He heard the National Weather Service issue a flood watch along the Santa Ana 
River over his radio. Soon, an evacuation center was set up at Corona High 
School, and residents could be seen jamming the few streets out of the evacuating
neighborhoods. 

Hypothetically, Hank was aware that the crack's flood breaching over the 
levees could flood 110,000 acres from Anaheim to the ocean, and had the
potential to kill as many as 3,000 people.

The dire possibility was very clear in his mind when he remembered Battalion
14's briefing accounts of March 3, 1938, which was, back then, the date when
a flood of massive pre-dam proportions, had became Orange County’s worst 
natural disaster. 

The town of Prado had simply disappeared. 

That night had been a turning point for Orange County, which was situated on one 
of the most vulnerable flood plains west of the Mississippi River. In its aftermath, 
the government built the massive Prado Dam. And its bulk had, to date, offered 
enough protection to launch the development of modern day Orange County.
"But now we've reached today. 1976.." Cap sighed nervously. "So much
for the 190 year protection hype claim. I've always known that I didn't trust 
earthen made constructions." he mumbled. "Especially earthen dams."

Captain Stanley heard an excited hail from Kelly, scoping out
the west side of the spillway. "Cap! Your two o'clock!
A news chopper! Can we use them until ours gets here?"

Cap shot his head around. Then his walkie lifted to his
mouth once more. "L.A., Engine 51. Looks like Air Channel 
Four's in our airspace covering this. Can you see if they can 
spot anything?!" he shouted.

##Stand by, 51.## said L.A.

About a minute later, Cap saw the news chopper jerk closer out
of the respectful field it normally flew and over the moving 
fire vehicles still arriving to 51's solitary patch of high ground.

L.A.'s welcoming calm voice advised him of newly learned details.
##News 4 reports four victims on a caisson about four hundred feet
to the east, below your location. They are being inundated.##

"Copy that, L.A.. Gage! DeSoto! Did you get that?!" he shouted
over the radio.

##Working our way down, Cap! Heading for the eastern
side caisson!## Gage puffed as he scrambled in his rope
and harness gear over the rocks and concrete tangles.

-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

"There! There! I see them, Roy. On the rocks to the left of the 
spillway!" Johnny shouted. "Marco! Gimme more slack!"
he shouted back over his shoulder as he slid down
the angled concrete slope leading into the main water channel.
"Cap! We're gonna need the rope gun!" he hollered into his HT.
"I think we can get it over one of these pylons!"

Chet Kelly reported a new victim find a thousand meters away
in the wetland brush along the rising Santa Ana River downflow.
##Stoker and I have got another one down here. We're bringing
him up! Notify Rampart of a boy around twelve years old!
No vital signs..##

Johnny looked over to his partner. "Roy? You wanna go back
up and handle him?"

"Just as soon as I get you squared away. Cap and the others
can work him until we've started rescuing these four." DeSoto
said, thinking about priorities. "Once the rope and tackle's tight,
I'll go.." 

The two paramedics could just barely hear the sounds of
the trapped men on the scrap of rock sticking out of the churning
water. They were controlled and not yet panicking and every one
of them was splashed liberally in bicentennial colored paint.
"At least it's easier to keep track of them looking the way they
do."

"Fortunately for them." Roy agreed, getting set to fire the rope
gun that Cap had lowered down to him on a tether.  

Cap prepared the men on the rocks. ##Rescuers are going to
fire a line over to you, attached to a rope. Catch it and secure it
to the most stable object you can find!## he hollered over
the engine's loud speaker.

One of the men waved an affirmation.

A safety goggled DeSoto shot the line from the shoulder gun
and it zinged out across the gushing flash flood and then in 
between two of the college students.

They scrambled desperately for the light line before the current
swept it away. In their panic, one of their number tumbled and
fell into the froth.

##One's in! One's in, Cap! Get some people downriver, now!!## 
DeSoto frantically radioed. 

Hank looked up to the freeway bridge above the dam basin
and got on the horn. ##Man in the water! Truck 99, get set with
your catch rope move! He's twenty meters center but still
on the surface!##

Firecrew dots on the overpass of Highway 10 buzzed into
motion and distantly, Cap saw tan firecoats converge on
either side of the concrete river bed as they drew a rope
taut across the channel. The flailing man tumbled by
in the rapids but managed to catch the lifeline in his armpit
and he hung on for dear life. Firemen on either side strained
to hold his weight in the swift water.

Battalion 14 shouted out encouragements to the man over
bull horn as his crew hurried with a dam maintenance boat 
they had found to go get him. "We're coming to get you.
Don't panic. Try to wrap your arms and legs around the rope!"

There was nothing else Cap could do for that victim, so
Stanley concentrated on gaining status information on the
drowned boy Station 36's paramedics were working on. He
got a shake of a head and a gesture indicating nonreactive
pupils from one of them as they bagged the young child 
and aggressively kept up attempts to revive him on the long 
board he had been hastily strapped into. 

He updated his own men about that. ##DeSoto, boy's a code F.
Stay with your situation.## he commanded. 

Hank saw Johnny and Gage briefly pause on tying their belt
ropes when they heard the bad news but then they started
hurrying again. 

Marco and Stoker quickly strung block and tackle pulleys 
onto the now fast river line the trapped men had secured.

Gage shouted. "We're coming over! Stay put!" he told
them over the roar of the water springing from the gaping
crack in the spillway near them. He could see that the
water corps of engineers had opened the flood gates
a while ago to ease the pressure on the smaller dam's
back face. It hadn't yet effected the water levels around
the trapped painters. But it made for high noise levels
and there wasn't much that could be effectively 
communicated well without a radio between them.

Soon, Gage and DeSoto were hand over knee crawling,
upside down on the line stringing between them and
the victims, like tree moles. They were wearing extra
belts, harnesses and lines along with life preservers
enough for all of them, while extra fire crew stabilized
their lifelines.

There was no chance for stokes work. The swelling
swirling rapids didn't afford a level water surface for
that kind of thing. Velocity and movement made
stretcher extrication impossible.  And the victims
were too close to the unharmed mother dam for a 
lowered chopper basket.

"Gimme more slack!" DeSoto shouted.

A rolling wave from the flashflood reared up and
drenched him, nearly causing him to lose his clinging
grip on the horizontal crawling rope. He coughed as
his head broke the surface once more.

"Roy! You ok?" shouted Johnny, remembering his
still freshly healing left wrist, as he hung upside down
just ahead of Roy.

"Yeah, I'm ok.." DeSoto sputtered, hooking that elbow
around the rope instead of using his hand on that side.
"Keep going! I'm not gonna get swept off. I'm hooked
on.." he said of his belt snaffle on the tow line.

Soon, one by one, Gage and he tandem hung the men on
the river line, barely three feet above water, and had
them hauled to the edge of the dam basin and onto
the concrete riverbed slope, safely.

Gage was supporting the last college student as
he stood in the twisting water to unhook his belt off the rope,
when a rogue wave toppled him off the concrete island.

Johnny made a fast grab and barely caught his wrist
in time to save him before the flood carried him away.
"I got you!  Pull yourself up!" he shouted to the young
paint splattered, red, white, and blue man in his grip.
"Give me your other hand!" he grunted.

Johnny's helmet fell off and landed with a splash into
the water.

It startled the rescue crews downstream when they saw
it rush by their rope catch point.

Cap immediately hailed. ##Truck 99! Stand down. Just
a helmet..## he told them.

He saw them give a thumbs up in reply through his binoculars.

Kelly was running to get out of the flood zone where he
and Stoker had found the boy, when he shouted over
his HT. "Gage!  Woman in the water! See her?! She's gonna
rush right by you in---"

Johnny quickly shoved his victim's control rope into
Roy's hands. Then he let go of the line above him
until he hung arms and head down towards the water.

He snatched at the nape of the limp woman's clothes
at the neck and grabbed her by the hair. He fought
until he got both legs wrapped around her tightly.

Then he pulled up on a braid to get her face out of the 
water.

He shouted and immediately let go of the woman 
when he saw a second smile beneath her jaw and ugly 
phone cord ligature hog tying her arms and ankles 
together behind her back.  Her weight splashed back
into the river, causing Johnny, Roy and the last man to
rebound up in a slow bounce on the rescue line.

DeSoto shouted tightly over his radio. "99! Here
comes another one!"

Just as fast, Gage countered with another radio burst.
"Belay that call. Do not risk the attempt!" he told
them and Battalion 14. 

"What's the matter?!  Why'd you let her go and call
them off?!" DeSoto shouted angrily at Johnny.

Johnny gasped, trying to recover from what he saw.
"Just keep pulling, Roy.  There's no point. That wasn't
a dam casualty at all. That was a murder victim!"

"What?!" 

"Her throat was cut ear to ear and she was bound up
with a phone cord. Let's just get out of here." Johnny said 
without strength.

The trembling young man strung between them stiffened
and he could only let the two paramedics drag him along with
them. "She's ... been killed by someone?"

"Yeah..." Gage told him softly. "Come on, we've got to
hurry before that crack gives way any more."

"I know..." shivered the battered paint coated young man.
" And I know what you both are probably thinking. We didn't do it."

"Never said you did, kid. " Johnny told him. "She was rigored 
already. Probably been gone for days." Gage said quickly. 
"Just keep crawling. Right now we've got our own lives to 
worry about saving. She'll be something for the police to figure 
out later when they do a body recovery."

The young man met Gage's eyes dully. "That's if they ever
find her again."

Soon, all five men were carried to safety and treatment
began to stave off shock and hypothermia from the cold flood
waters.

Battalion 14 ordered all units to back away out of harm's
way and they all retreated back to the highway overlooking
the resevoir river valley. But the final destruction never came
so Station 51 concentrated on caring for their victims and
their gear until the call was over.

-----------------------------------------------------------------------------------
Dixie took another sip of her coffee while she and Dr. Brackett
and Doctor Early conmiserated Squad 51's adventure at the 
Prado locks a few days later.

Roy was talking animatedly about it with a hint of a chill. "Turns
out that woman wasn't the only murder victim..."

Johnny reflected seriously. "Yeah, they found a whole bunch of
remains, all along the trail along the river bottoms. Nine more
women. Crockett says the way the bodies were killed 
indicates the work of a serial killer or some other kook.
The FBI seems to think they might be another lead on Idaho's 
unsolved Green River Killer." 
 
Dixie gave a tiny shiver and set her mug of coffee down without
drinking it. "Eeoow, then those happy go lucky dam painters ended up
benefitting society far, far more than they originally intended."

Kel pursed his lips where he sat in his wheel chair. "I kind 
of feel sorry for those college kids. All they wanted to do was 
create a little bicentennial spirit without creating waves and they 
ended up preventing a major catastrophe AND undercovering
a mass murderer's work."

"You know," said Joe Early. "Stranger things have happened."

"Yeah, I know, when you least expect it." Kel smiled. "Just look
at what happened to all of us.."

Gage was thoughtful. "You know, this week hasn't been all
that bad."

Roy was incredulous. "Just how to you figure that?"

Johnny said, "Well,..it's just a little snafu effect taking hold. 
Nothing to shake a stick at."

"I beg to differ.." Dixie glared back. "I've been through h*ll this
week worrying about the whole lot of you. Snafus aside." 

"Well, things can only get better from this point on." Roy
reasoned with a shy grin.

"Shhh, don't jinx us." Gage said, smacking his arm.

"You know, Johnny. That's part of the problem right there."
said Roy.

"What is?" Johnny replied defensively.

"You're just plain too superstitious for your own good. 
If things are gonna happen, they're gonna happen and that's
just all there is to it. Coincidence is just a man made thing.
Like time. Something that's not real, but we truly like to believe
it is, just for the thrill of it." he concluded.

"Speak for yourself. I didn't know that Dr. Brackett was almost
gonna die this week, or you either, for that matter.." Johnny said
indignantly. "No one can predict the future." he frowned.

Roy held up his finger and poked Johnny on the nose. "That's
precisely my point, Junior. Right there. Learn from it.
See ya, Dix, Doctor Brackett, Dr. Early. I'm gonna go wait for 
Gage here to stop preambling in general, out in the squad.
Bye.." he waved.

"Take it easy, Roy." they said.

Johnny was left scratching his head at the ER counter
while everyone else ... got back to work.



FIN

Episode Twenty Four

S.n.a.f.u.

--------------------------------------------

Photo:  Gage climbing with an ambu bag in his teeth.

Photo:  Dam flood gate open.

Photo:  Animated rope gun river rescue.

Photo:  Roy and Johnny sliding down a slope.

Photo:  Five victims coming out of water.

Photo:  Roy saying I told you so in Rampart hall.

Photo:  Beautful creek sunlight and small waterfall.

Photo: Joe Early grinning like a cheshire cat.

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

***This current episode has just completed.
***Keep watching here daily for new episode
***scene installments.  

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

            
                            End Credits --  Episode Twenty Four (Third Season)
                                      
                                              §§     S.n.a.f.u.    §§

                :)    This episode is dedicated to the survivors and rescuers currently   :)
                       enduring the aftermath of Hurricane Katrina in the United States.
                :)     May as many lives as possible....be saved.                                        :)

  
The Story Unfolds...

Season Four, Episode Twenty Five..
 
 §§   The Overhaul Principle     §§
 
Debut Launch: September 1st, 2005. 


**************************************************
From: "Roxy Dee" <laterrapincabesa@hotmail.com> 
Date: Sat Sep 3, 2005  6:27 pm 
Subject: The Transfer~~ 


Nine p.m. was only half an hour old when Johnny Gage decided
to beg off a Sunday night challenge of cards and chess with the 
others. "Night all, I'm going to bed. I can't keep my eyes open
any more."

Chet Kelly looked up in surprise from the seriously aggressive war
game he was currently engaged in with Marco Lopez. "What's the
matter? You sick or something?  Roy, are you paying attention here?
The perpetual night owl's turning in before any of us for a change."

Roy, engrossed in the Bogart movie on the tiny black and white,
didn't even look up. "I heard ya.. Enjoy the peace and quiet 
while it lasts.  Chet, he's not sick. If Johnny was sick, he'd be 
complaining about how bad he feels to everybody with every gory
detail of symptomology. You know how he is.."

"Thanks a lot, partner.." Johnny grumbled, rubbing his eyes as
he shuffled to a halt by the kitchen door leading out to the bunk 
room. "Nice to know I rate a full vote of confidence around here."

"Only when you're on a firehose or at the working end of a 
defibrillator, Gage. Don't get so bent out of shape. I mean,
who knows your personality better than the guys who work
side by side with you just about every day of your life?" Kelly
said. "You should take advantage of this free status check from us, 
Johnny. It might teach you a few things about yourself that you don't 
usually know about when your physical chips are down. We can see
how you really are when you're not even aware of it." Kelly added
secretly, right as Marco cleaned him out of a set of aces at the end of 
a three stacked face off in their war game. "Marco! That's not fair. 
You already have two others.."

"That's how the cards fell, Chet. Sorry." Lopez grinned, 
completely unapologetic. He eagerly scooped them up into
his discard pile. "Johnny, don't listen to them. Hope you sleep
sound. Don't worry, I'll keep him quiet for ya." Marco said tossing 
his head at the fidgetty Chet.

"Thanks, Marco. I appreciate that. And I think I will. The
weather's cooling off for the fall and it took me by surprise.
This time of year always makes me bushed when it does that. 
Hot during the day, then down right freezing at night. Messes with 
your metabolism.." Gage mumbled while yawning.

"That and a few other things.." Chet quipped.

Cap looked up from the sink where he was washing dishes.
"Shush, Kelly. Let him go to bed unmolested or I'll send you to yours
too, for picking on him when he's not dishing it out to defend himself."

Kelly plugged it up.

Johnny just threw his hands at them all in sleepy disgust without
looking at anybody, and scratched his frumpy hair. 

Gage never remembered hitting his pillow.



That was a distinct disadvantage when he was awakened hours later
by a cool set of fingers digging into his neck for a light pulse check.
"Ahh!! Get off me..." he mumbled, shoving the hand away angrily.
"I'm fine, don't be stupid." he said without even looking who it might be.

A mild voice, neutral of reaction, met his comment evenly. "I've
been called many things, Mr. Gage, but I believe that's the first
time anyone's ever called me unintelligent."

Recognition flared unpleasantly clear and Johnny rolled over
and shot up bolt upright in shock. "Brice? What the heck are y--
Why are you here now?" He shook cobwebs out of his head
and immediately tempered his sarcastic tones for sake of civility.
"I mean, wait a minute, I knew you were coming to the station, but
I thought you were transferring into C shift on the other rotation.."

"I was, until yesterday. Then I did a little more calculating and 
decided that my financial budgetting would best be managed,
if I took A shift. Captain Stanley was kind enough to push my 
paperwork to the proper channels necessary to accomodate
my needs." Craig said, pushing up his glasses. "If you're 
wondering why I'm sitting on your bed, the explanation is
that Captain Stanley asked if I'd check to see if you were
still breathing since you slept right through what they called,
the midnight popcorn feast.." Brice frowned in confusion.

"Oh, Brice.. He was just kidding. Why do you always have to take
things so literal all the time? If I was sick, do you think I'd be
in here by myself, being allowed to sleep, unmonitored?"

"That's true. You'd be evaluated at Rampart for any detrimental
health effects and then you'd either be allowed to stay at work or
be sent home on doctor's orders, to recover from them." Brice 
reasoned.

"So they got to you, too, huh..." Johnny said mildly, pulling the
blankets a little tighter around his shoulders.

Brice said nothing, freezing in place at the sudden sharing of
confidence.

"Don't worry about it. Sometimes their joking gets under my
skin, too. You should have seen me when the water cans were
flying thick.. But between you and me, I know humor's not your 
strong point."

Brice finally looked up from adjusting the pair chrome silver
pens he carried a little straighter in his paramedic's shirt pocket. 
"I appreciate your honest observation about me. But how are we going 
to...." he bit his lip and said without emotion."..get back at the other guys?"

"By doing nothing." Johnny's sleepy face cracked into a huge devil's grin.
"Or better yet.. Grab a bunk.."

The dim light from the moon outside glinted faintly in Craig's glasses.
"I'm afraid, I don't understand."

"Copy what I'm doing. It'll drive them crazy trying to figure it out.
That way, we both can get our revenge on them for teasing you into
vitals checking me." Johnny grinned.

Brice thought about it without moving, but then he suddenly fell
into a convincing yawn. "Gee, I'm suddenly feeling a little tired.
A nap sounds like a good idea. Who's bunk shall I take over?"

"Definitely Kelly's....Opposite Roy's directly across other side of 
the aisle." said Gage, rolling back over to bury
his head under his pillow. "If this works, Roy'll be in here
himself with a penlight and stethoscope to check on BOTH 
of us inside ten minutes. Sometimes, I think he's more gullible
than me at stuff like this. Don't worry, Brice.  We won't have the 
wool pulled over our eyes for much longer. All we
have to do to is just go to sleep to get it all back."

Brice was soon snoring as loudly as Johnny from where
he laid out neatly on his back with his hands folded over
his chest. 

------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Photo:   Roy and Johnny reading in the kitchen.

Photo:  Johnny having a nightmare.

Photo:  Craig Brice leaning over somebody by the squad.

Photo:  The gang putzing in the kitchen on off time.

Photo:  Station 51 in the dead of night.

******************************************************************
From :  Cory Anda <andacory@hotmail.com> 
Sent :  Sunday, September 18, 2005 9:42 PM 
Subject :  Double Indemnity.. 


The two paramedics never got a chance to see their counter
move joking ruse bait, bitten. The tones went off before another 
half an hour had gone by.

Gage groaned as he threw on his night trousers, attached 
suspenders and boots. He was about to check aloud verbally
about whether or not Craig Brice had dug his own out of consignment 
yet from Headquarters, when he realized that the door leading from 
the pitch black bunkroom was already swinging back and forth from the
sandy haired fireman's rapidly disappearing departure. The natural
level of irritation he normally felt around the man flared even greater.
:: He's way ahead of me as usual again, d*mn it.:: Johnny thought as he 
squinted and rubbed bleary eyes as he jogged to the squad's passenger 
side fender. He opened the door and then stopped when he found the 
center seat between him and Roy empty. "Where's Brice?"

"He'll be riding with the engine until you two work out some kind of
rotation about who gets to ride where when we respond to all of
our rescue calls." DeSoto replied with a grin. He was enjoying his
partner's major sleepies immensely. "You missed a really good
late show and a whole lotta popcorn."

L.A.'s information broadcasted as the station klaxon tones
completed their cycling. ##Station 51. Unknown type rescue at the 
gravel pit. 128 Live Oak Avenue, cross street North Western Avenue.
128 Live Oak Avenue, cross street North Western Avenue. Time out,
0256.##

Hank's ringing radio acknowledgement of the call and slamming fire 
vehicle doors finally jolted Johnny into full wakefulness."I'll live. All
I need is a little fresh air. Maybe we'll get a high angle extrication so I
can just hang out and get a lungful or two.. And speaking about passenger
riding, why won't you be rotating on and off the engine with Craig Brice's
new work schedule?"

"Seniority ranks, Johnny. But I wouldn't pull that argument for yourself
in front of Cap if I were you. I bet if you look at the numbers, Craig's been 
around longer than you have with the department."

Gage was about to smart off a retort when the truth of that fact bit home.
He tried to content himself with rolling down the squad window so the cool 
smoggy autumn night blew into his face. He set a grumpy elbow on the 
edge of the door frame after writing down their response address on a 
piece of paper.

"Sleep well?" Roy asked as the squad straightened out on the boulevard
and sped for the nearby highway.

"How do ya think? Take one good look at these bloodshot eyes and just
take a wild guess, pal. I hope Brice gets assigned a bunk down Cap's way,
because he snores louder than Chet does when he's sleeping." Johnny 
snapped.

"Glad I've got a set of ear plugs under my pillow." DeSoto sighed, not
reacting to his partner's grumbling. "I've told you a hundred times to go grab
a pair from the pharmacy at Rampart along with the shoelaces you're always
borrowing from me to replace the ones ya break all the time."

"I will. I will." Gage insisted self defensely. "Trust me. I'll go get a pair the next
time we resupply at the hospital. How else am I gonna get any sleep any more?"

"You could always go a few rounds on the punching bag Stoker hung out in
the yard." Roy said. "I'm sure that'll work out some of the restless overtired
energy I'm seeing pouring out of ya tonight."

"Energy? You call this excess energy? I'm plum beat, Roy. That nap did 
absolutely nothing for me."

"Sorry, I couldn't tell. You hardly seem different from the usual."

"Very funny. Just drive and keep your thoughts to yourself, okay? And hang 
a right here on the off ramp. The Peck water conservation park's around 
the corner past those trees."

Roy smiled bigger and shook his head ruefully as Johnny's groggy attempts
at hasty finger hair grooming finally panned out and he watched as
Johnny belatedly remembered to shove on his fire helmet. "That sign
we passed a couple of minutes ago beat ya to it. I'm way ahead of you."

"So's Brice it seems..." Johnny grumbled.

"What did you say?" Roy asked over the loud wail of the squad's sirens.

"Nothing!" Gage said, pulling on his chin strap. "Pretend I'm just sitting here 
looking pretty.."

Roy curbed another amused grin to spare Johnny a last shred of dignity. 
He never understood why broken sleep always brought out the worst in
Johnny. ::Or in the rest of the gang for that matter. Maybe I got my immunity
from it for having two kids to raise the last eight years or so.:: he decided.

Soon, they were there.



A construction foreman immediately ran up to Cap, taking Hank's
immediate appearance and physical stature, as the one 
man in charge. "We're so glad you guys are here.." the man gasped 
under the night lights of the gravel quarry. "The problem's two fold. 
One of my workers is stuck and a child's trapped under one of our transfer 
conveyor belts in a car over there."

Cap understood the first part, but the second, took him aback."What? 
A child? In a car at the bottom of a gravel pit?"

"Yeah, the city gang buries cars in here all the time to try and 
hide em from the heat when they steal em. They think covering them up 
with gravel's the smartest idea in the world for their auto hustling ring.
We try to thwart em with dog patrols and security guards, only the place's
so big we can't watch over everywhere and we never usually find
them all until the gang sneaks back in to collect em. We're guessing
that this kid must've snuck in here playing earlier in the afternoon and 
got caught by the gang while they were hiding one. Twenty
minutes ago, one of us heard shouting under the rock pile beneath 
this belt's fall/dump. Only our man got in trouble trying to find him.
We're guessing that this kid's been locked up inside a trunk."

Cap held up his glove. "Get back to your victims' locations. Show us 
where." he ordered.

The anxious man, surrounded by a core of determined tool wielding workers,
motioned quickly. "This way." And around the firemen, the pit crew 
suddenly split into two groups arrowing into the surrounding spot lit darkness.

Hank immediately dissembled. "Brice, Roy. Check out that child's situation.
Chet, help em out. Johnny and the rest of you, come with me with all the 
tools you can carry and plenty of rope!"

"Don't bother. We've got plenty in use right now, mister." the foreman
said hastily with a hint of anger. "Come on, come on! Marty can't wait much
longer. He stopped screaming a couple of minutes ago."

"Ok..ok. Calm down a little. Getting excited's the last thing that'll help these
people, ok?" Hank said gently. "Gang, you heard him. Skip the extrication gear. 
Let's move."

As Cap's group ran to the accident site, the sweating highly agitated 
foreman filled them in. "This belt became overloaded causing the electrical 
breaker to trip!" he shouted over the roar of chistles and jack hammers hastily 
being applied from an area just ahead of them in the heavy dusty gloom. "I shut 
down the entire line and Marty went to try and fix everything, like he always does, 
to clean away spilled material on the sides of the belt with a front end loader, 
only this time, he was assisted by Scotty, d*mn it all." 
The foreman bit his lip in sudden guilt and worry. "The kid's a truckdriver 
recently hired by the company. He didn't know what he was doing down there. 
Scotty told Marty that he was going to the breaker panel to turn the power 
back on after the jam was clear. He told everybody specifically to stand 
clear of it while he went to start up the belt again."

"I don't understand." said Cap. "I'm assuming Marty's your man who's trapped."

"Yes, yes. Here's what happened!" urged the foreman as the firemen strode
deeper and deeper into the heart of the central gravel pile underneath the conveyor
belt. "The electric panel for the conveyor belt's at a location out-of-sight of this
far end. There's always a few minutes delay when someone does a restart because
of this long walk over to the panel area. Only this time, Marty must have noticed that 
the discharge chute from the incoming belt was also clogged. We figured
that he must have climbed up onto the belt to clean the secondary chute. When he
did that, Scotty didn't know about it and turned the jam breaker back on. Marty fell 
down on the moving belt when it jerked to life again."

Cap started shaking his head in pure high level professional frustration as 
the tale unfolded unpleasantly. The foreman noticed. "You gotta understand. 
Marty's a very big man, in excess of 300 pounds. He couldn't easily get up or 
jump off the belt. Marty tried to yelled at Scotty, who ran alongside him, to shut off 
the belt from the other end, but Scotty wasn't familiar enough with the conveyor 
system and he couldn't find the emergency shut-off switch in time before--"

Johnny hastened to the point. "Ok, that's how it happened. Just tell us
how Marty's hurt. That's the most important information right now."

The foreman wiped his face with a filthy rag from the back pocket of his overalls.
"Scotty says Marty rode the belt for about 30 seconds, the entire length of the 
conveyor, before being pinned under an end angle iron motor bracing."

Gage winced. "Traumatic asphyxiation for sure, Cap." 

Stoker ran back towards the engine. "I'll get the O2 tank and the intubation kit."

"And a full adult sized spine board with sand bags. " Cap added.

"Hurry!" Gage shouted after him. Soon, the wiry paramedic and the others
reached the spot where Marty's gravel dusty leg protruded from a knot of
belt cloth and metal. Already, gravel works employees were frantically digging
with shovels, crowbars and brute force to try to free their coworker.
"Has he moved?" Johnny shouted to them.

"No." one of them replied. "Not for a long time." 

Gage, being the skinniest firefighter, took off his overcoat and helmet and
crawled onto the halted gravel strewn belt into the feeder hole on top
of Marty's partially pinned body and stomach. The whole way inside,
he felt for signs of respiration with his gloves. He found none. "Not
breathing. I'm going for his head!" his muffled shout echoed from out
of the hole.

Cap snapped an order. "Marco, get in there with him. Help him any way
you can."

Lopez peeled his coat and helmet, too. Hank stopped him with a touch on
the leg. "Take this with you!"  He passed off a pack of oral airways that
he always carried in his turnout's jacket pocket. Then he pulled out his
HT. "Roy, Brice. Our victim's spotted, not breathing. Gage and Marco
are going in to aid him. Let me know the first second you know what 
you have out there with the minor. I'll call PD for you to get a court
ward consent for treatment on him or her but note this...
after your word only....that we have a survivor."

##10-4, Captain Stanley.## replied Brice over his radio.

There was grunting from the hole and Cap hung onto Gage's
and Marco's boots and they worked deeper into the tiny space
at the end of the gravel shunt feeder bin nearest Marty's head.
"Easy. Easy.. Some of this loose stuff's working its way down."

"Ok, Cap. We almost have his head freed up!" Marco shouted
in a strained voice.

Cap didn't like the tight quarters. He turned to the guilt ridden foreman,
gaining assurances. "Do I have your absolute guarantee that that
feeding circuit breaker's locked off?"

"You do, I locked the panel access cage up myself before I came
running outside to meet you.. Oh my G*d, Marty. I got ya in so
much trouble. I'm so sorry. I- I knew I should've been more firm
with the boss about making the changes you pointed out around here.
I- I know we should have had the starting and stopping of the belt possible 
from the same location."

Scotty, the new employee, was standing nearby and was thoroughly 
tear stained and crying. "That starting should have also included a 
warning alarm, Miller! And I should've been briefed on where all the
switches were before you even put me to work on the line!"

"It's my fault.." mumbled the foreman. "It's.." he stumbled against a
shaft piling. "Oh, my G*d. What have I done?"

"Don't you mean what DIDN'T you do?" snarled Scotty.

Cap ignored the pit men and began poring over his two men with Marty.
"How is he?" he shouted into the gap along the belt where the two 
firemen were struggling to unbury Marty.

There was a long delay inside the hole. Then Johnny's voice came
over the HT. Two short words. ##Code F.##

Cap sighed and slammed both gloves against the side of the inert gravel
belt and he lifted his head to fight down a crush of emotional pain.

The foreman got back onto his feet. "Code F? Wh-what's a code F? I-is
that some kind of rescue code?" he asked hopefully. "If there's anything
I can do for Marty, just a---"

Scotty interrupted in a rage and a new flood of tears. "That's F for fatality
Miller. Marty's dead!  Remember that for the rest of your pathetic life. 
A good man died today because of your unwillingness to confront your
boss, and his death is entirely ..your ...fault.  I sure hope someday you
can learn to live with this, cause I know I sure won't. Not ever....."
he glared softly dangerous. "I quit right after I talk one to one with the cops.
There was no excuse for this happening, Miller. None. I've never seen 
such a shoddy excuse for a twenty four hour gravel operation in all my 
working days."

Hank and the others broke out of their listening shock between the two
gravel works men and fell into immediate action. Cap grabbed first Gage's 
legs and then Marco's to hasten their progress off the belt. Then he yelled at
Stoker over radio to get the resuscitation and spinal gear out to DeSoto 
and Brice instead. Cap added one thing more. "Gage, leave your clothes 
shears on his chest so the MSHA investigators know that we got in there 
first for a victim's vitals check. Disturb absolutely nothing else getting 
back out here, guys. Remember everything you did in there in close 
detail and what you touched." he said in barely controlled fury.

Gage and Marco soon fled for the site of Brice and Roy's situation
with Cap running close behind them. 

They found...

-------------------------------------------------------

Photo: Cap speaking with a helmeted construction worker.

Photo:  A gravel works emergency stop panel.

Photo:  Two workers digging in a very large deep hole.

Photo:  A working conveyor at the bottom of a gravel pile. 

Photo:  A dirt buried car.

Photo:  Brice, Roy and Johnny in turnout gear, getting ready
             for a rescue operation.

********************************************************************
From :  Champagne Scott <chameleonkate@hotmail.com> 
Sent :  Wednesday, September 21, 2005 1:11 PM 
Subject :  Saved From a Tomb... 


...them easily under the gravel pit's night spotlights three
minutes later.

Roy didn't even ask why his partner and Marco had returned 
so quickly from the conveyor belt site. He already knew.

Brice was directing gravel workers and Chet on where to dig
to try and locate landmarks on the buried car so that they could
reach a window or even better, the rear trunk compartment. 

But it was like shoveling inside of a sand funnel. As fast as gravel 
was removed, more slid in immediately to take its place back
into any hole made by the workers.  

Kelly shouted. "We got problems, Cap!  This pea gravel's
like water. We can't make any headway!"

Hank jogged to where Roy and Brice were kneeling on top of
the hood of the buried stolen automobile. "Wanna cut into the 
car from up there?"

"I don't think that'll be a good idea, Captain Stanley." said
Craig Brice. "The interior'd only get buried as well. If we
can get by with a visual looking inside, that'll be good enough
to determine where the child might be trapped."

Hank nodded in agreement. "And I'm sure the car's owner
would appreciate minimal damage as well." He rubbed his
lip. "How about a front end loader, digging a channel to 
the trunk? The foreman mentioned they use one of those 
a lot to find these cars when they encounter them."

"Bring it on in, Cap. And hurry. We don't know how long our 
child's been in these low air conditions like this." Roy fretted.

Brice looked up from lying on his stomach. He had peered into a
window from its top edge, looking upside down with a
flashlight. "The car's empty! I'm only seeing beer cans, 
spent shotgun shells, and I'm smelling a whole lot of alcohol 
in here."

"What nice car crooks, gang. Don't ya love it?" snapped Johnny.  
"Not only do they hide what they steal from the police, they mess it 
up, and then endanger kidnapped small children while going about 
their business as usual. Makes you wanna--" 

"Easy, partner." said Roy. "First thing's first. I promise I'll let you
get into a few faces once the cops find them later on. Right now let's
just concentrate on undoing some of the mischief by rescuing that kid 
first."  Then he froze in place. "Shhh.. I think I hear something." he
said, angling his helmeted head.

But then the front end loader started approaching, and drowned out
all chance of anyone hearing any subtle noises.

Gage looked up for the heavy equipment driver eagerly. "Over
here! Over here! Nice and easy.."

Brice scrambled out of the way of the work crews and shouted.
"I'll call Rampart and let them know we almost have a victim. Sir,
making that phone call now for court authorized treatment might
be prudent."

Hank nodded, only slightly raising his eyebrows at Craig's formal
demeanor, and jogged over to the squad's cab for a quiet place
to call L.A. and the police department.

Johnny and the others watched as the front end loader slowly bit
into the flowing rivers of gravel. Its appetite soon won a solid dirt 
path leading right up to the very rear of the gang buried car.

Stoker went running, "I'll get lines from the engine. We can pull it out
using them tied around our bumper and their loader's, in reverse
gear!"

"Make it happen!" Hank agreed, missing nothing from where he sat.

Marco yelled. "I'll get a crowbar!"

Chet said, "I'll get the gear laid out." And he fell to
work spreading a yellow plastic treatment sheet onto the damp
dirt of the roadway. He quickly placed the resuscitator, defibrillator,
trauma and drug boxes out with their lids open.

Cap finished making his call to L.A. and to the emergency court
system and he told his men good news. "Gage, DeSoto, Brice! Do what 
you have to do. That child's now under federal court authority for being 
a kidnap victim. All you need now are doctor's orders.."

"Thanks, Cap." said DeSoto. "Let's hope we won't need to do much."

The firemen hurried to secure two fast rope lines to the Ward and the
front end loader once it had completed clearing away what gravel
it could from the back end of the stolen car.

"Ok,, ok.. ease them back, slowly!" said Cap to Stoker and Marco, who
had joined the gravel vehicle's driver with an HT so they could hear
Cap's instructions the same time Stoker did.

##10-4." they both replied.

"Easy... easy..." said Cap as he watched the tension in the tug ropes
increase, and finally grow taut. Soon, the intact car groaned, shifting
under its deep cocoon of heavy gravel with ear piercing nails on 
chalkboard squeals as raw rock pellets scratched into the chassis
relentlessly.

Everyone covered their ears at the sounds. 

"Ooo, there's goes the paint job." Chet shivered as he opened
a second sheet pack into thirds on top of a backboard in case
they needed spinal care on the child. 

Brice smiled from where he was hailing Rampart. "A problem easily 
remedied. Just picture what the owner of this car would have thought 
if we had decided to flower petal open the roof to saw through the 
back passenger seat and frame, looking for this minor."

"You got a point there." said Kelly, grinning. But then his grin fell away
when he saw Cap raise his glove in a halting gesture. He shot to
his feet quickly. "Here we go.." he said, grabbing an iron bar with 
which to help Lopez jimmy the trunk release.

Brice watched his crewmates as he talked with Dixie McCall. 
"Rampart, we're a minute away from extricating a child of unknown age 
from an automobile trunk that was found buried under five or six feet of 
loose gravel. Please stand by until we free our victim. And yes, we 
have official court permission to render any treatment authorized by you."

----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

::Well, if that isn't clairvoyance, I don't know what is.:: thought Dixie
when Brice's last statement anticipated her next question neatly.
##10-4, Squad 51. We're standing by.## replied Dixie when she saw
Joe Early making his way over to the base station at her urgent wave.

The frosty haired nurse readied a note pad and set the record button
on pause. Joe entered the glass alcove, read the basic information
Dixie handed to him, and then they both began to wait restlessly.

----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

The trunk cracked open and its springs shot the rear hood up with
alacrity.  A wave of hot, fetid sour air met the firemen's noses in the
darkness. But an odor wasn't about to stop them in the slightest.
Gage threw aside loose objects that the child had kicked around in
his struggles and peered down under Roy's flashlight beam as he
felt for a neck pulse. "He's alive. But it looks like all this rock did
absolutely nothing to protect him from daytime heating. He's got 
all his clothes torn off."

Chet quickly set a resuscitator mask of pure oxygen over the boy's 
face as soon as the two paramedics had him carefully turned onto 
his back, while he still lay in the trunk. "Is he breathing ok on his own?"

"Help him a bit. It's irregular." replied Gage. "Go 20 a minute, and someone
tell Stoker to rig a reel line! We've got to get his high temperature down
with a hose as soon as he's been spine immobilized!  Roy, I'm seeing blunt
force bruising here. His left eye's orbit, right side rib cage and right thigh
so far. And he's got a broken index finger on his left hand."

Kelly tried not to seethe. "He's been beaten up, too?"

"Looks that way." said Roy, holding the heatstroked boy's head
still until Johnny could get a pediatric cervical collar around the child's 
neck. The tall quiet paramedic was ready to kill in his eyes but
his hands remained firmly gentle as they moved the boy onto a long
board and strapped him in tightly with sandbags and belts.

Chet was a tick with the demand valve, sticking to the child's face
and minding his airway aggressively while he delivered light, fast
breaths. "No problems here, Johnny. O2's going in easy."

"Keep them light until I listen to his chest a little better. We've got
to rule out traumatic chest injury." Gage told him.

Mike Stoker was ready with cold water and he stood close by for
the word to begin cooling measures by the time the three firemen
carried the boy over to all the medical gear and Chet's treatment tarp.

"Start with his legs, arms and abdomen only, Stoker. A very light wash.
We don't want to chill him too fast here." said Roy. "If you see him
start to shiver, stop immediately and get him snuggly wrapped up.
Keep an eye out for any active blood flow into your water. We haven't 
checked him out very well yet for other injuries past these bruises and
that hand."

Mike Stoker began his bathing with just an inch wide trickle from 
the end of the red hose's nozzle. "Got it." said the engineer
softly. "Is he resisting Chet's vents yet?" he asked DeSoto.
  
"No." said Roy with a worried frown. "We'll try to change that with
some I.V. epinephrine real soon. Craig.." he said, wiggling fingers
for the biophone receiver.

Brice handed it over and then got busy with Roy's stethoscope on
assessing the flushed red boy's lung sounds.

DeSoto never took his eyes off the boy while he spoke with Dr. 
Early. "Rampart, this is Rescue 5-1."

-----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Joe Early flicked the recording machine off pause and said, "Unit
calling in, please repeat."

##Rampart, this is Squad 51.##

"Go ahead on your pediatric suffocation victim, 51. I've been updated."

##Rampart we have a male approximately four to five years of age.
Unconscious and unresponsive, being ventilated on 100% O2. He's
markedly overheated with blunt force trauma in evidence. Looks like
a beating. I'll cover exactly what areas are involved after initial vital signs.
BP is 150/102, pulse is weak and rapid at 134, breaths unassisted, were
at eight and very irregular. Our victim is currently undergoing a cold water
washdown over his extremities and abdomen to allow us to start to get 
a handle on a very high body temperature.##

"What is it, 51?"

##Stand by, Rampart. We've got to work around some spinal precautions to
ascertain that.## 

"10-4. Let me know what you find. Has your victim shown any indication of prior 
seizure activity?"

##None, Rampart. No signs of incontinence or unequal pupillary reaction 
are apparent.##

"Ok, 51. Start him on an I.V. of..........

--------------------------------------------------------------------------

Photo:  Brice and Roy working by the squad with the drugbox.

Photo:  A front end loader digging away at a cliffside.

Photo:  A car's trunk, opened and full of junk.

Photo:  Rescuers carrying a stripped boy away from danger.

Photo:  A child getting ventilated by demand valve by the gang.

Photo:  Dr. Joe Early listening to a transmission wearing glasses.

Photo:  Roy frowning in his helmet at night.

Photo: Marco and Chet in full rescue gear, waiting for orders.


***************************************************************
Date: Fri, 23 Sep 2005 13:25:04 -0700 (PDT) 
From: "Jeff Seltun" <finiterider@yahoo.com>  
Subject:  The Saving Grace of Professionalism.. 


....Lactated Ringer's at TKO and another of 50% dextrose
in water. Protect his airway judiciously, 51. There's a strong possibility
of respiratory alkalosis developing from your active ventilations. They
might bring on secondary hypokalemia. Are there any signs of deep
tendon reflexes?## Joe asked.

Brice checked, running a blunt scissors point up both the boy's bare
feet. He also pinched the skin sharply behind both the boy's knees
while holding them bent and upright. Not one twitch manifested. Craig
shook his head. 

DeSoto shared that news. "Negative, Rampart."

##Ok, go ahead and intubate him with an EOA. Sounds like he's already 
largely in a coma from his exposure. What's his core temperature
reading?##

Johnny took out the thermometer probe from the child's rectum and 
read it under penlight. "41."

"It's at 41°c, doc." Roy told Dr. Early, biting his lower lip.

##Continue his cooling measures aggressively, 51. Halt all irrigation
when his body temperature reaches 39°c and let it drop no lower. 
I want an EKG as soon as possible. If he develops seizure activity,
use a benzodiazepine variant such as Ativan 0.1 mg/kg I.V. 
If hypotension sets in refractory to cooling and initial fluid boluses, initiate 
a Dopamine drip and titrate to maintain a systolic BP greater than 90 mmhg. 
Once you've sent me a strip, continue monitoring vitals and maintain his 
full 02 support. Bring him in as soon as possible.##

Roy confirmed his orders. "10-4, Rampart. Point one mg's Ativan I.V. on 
posturing, a dopamine drip to raise any developing basement BP to 90, 
and an EOA. Stand by for his EKG, lead two. I estimate our ETA at twelve 
minutes."

##Standing by, 51.##

Johnny was way ahead of Joe Early. He already had the still child's
chest dried and patched in and it was only moments before he flicked on
the datascope monitor and linked it into the biophone.

Roy spoke once more into the phone. "Transmitting EKG, Rampart."

##10-4.##

Gage, Brice, DeSoto and Kelly all leaned into the screen to read its tachy
signature. Johnny let out a worried sigh. "Frequent PAC's and look at this. 
Doctor Early called it right on the money. He's very low on electrolytes."

DeSoto picked up the receiver. "Rampart, we are reading marked
flat T waves with prolonged QTs and prominent U waves on a V tach of
140 with PAC's. There is possible evidence of Cor pulmonale manifestation."

##I concur, 51. Bolus in 100 cc's of that Lactated Ringer's. Most likely
the heat's damaged his lung tissue, causing atelectasis and that backup
into his right descending pulmonary artery. That's probably why we are
seeing a poor breathing effort and the Cor pulmonale. It is paramount, 51, if 
he crashes, that you avoid using sodium bicarbonate on any defibrillation.
He's low enough on potassium or magnesium as it is. 
Use Dobutamine 10 mcg/kg/min IV infusion for circulatory support with 
your first stacking dose of epinephrine should any be needed.##

Roy re-outlined the doctor's treatment and plan if the boy 
suffered a cardiac arrest. Then he added, "Rampart, we've examined
all exposed surface areas on our victim. He's got bruising of the left 
orbit of his eye, right lateral ribcage, and on the skin over his right thigh 
with no evidence of obvious fractures except for a midshaft bone break 
on his left index finger. Also, we've found that he's slightly guarding the 
lower left hand quadrant of his abdomen."

##Might be splenic involvement. I'll have a surgeon standing by.##

"10-4, Rampart." Roy practically threw down the biophone into its case
in his eagerness to get the boy intubated and moving out.

Gage re-read the thermometer again, taking it from in between the boy's 
frogged legs where he lay in his moistened shock sheets and he held up 
his hand. "Ok, Stoker, that's good." he said, and he motioned for the 
engineer to take away the cold water stream.

Roy took a small ambu bag from Chet's hand and fastened it to the
end of the boy's esophageal airway once he was through inserting it.
He gave it a few short squeezes while Craig checked the tube's placement.
"Ok, Chet. Take this over again." he said in a hoarse whisper.

Brice gave a curt nod. "It's positioned correctly, DeSoto. ...Ready?" he asked 
Gage and the others who were bundling up the boy's sheets, I.V. tubing and
EKG monitor wires away from the pooled water running around his body.

He got all nods around the circle of quiet firefighters.

The heatstroked young boy's spine board was lifted and laid straight onto a 
half height raised ambulance gurney, and soon, they started 
on their way to the hospital.  Marco quickly followed behind them in the 
rescue squad, adding his red lights and siren to the ambulance's. 


The foreman sighed as Cap stepped away from the Cadillac ambulance doors
that he had just double slapped. "I hope he makes it, mister. Cause if he doesn't, 
then Marty died for nothing and my losing my job over him will just be 
another tragedy this company'll bear quietly in the private sector..."

Hank just stared at him, and displayed absolutely no sympathy.
"Your poor man didn't have to die at all today! Haven't you gotten that fact in 
through that thick hard hat of yours yet?! This whole rescuing situation was
all ....completely... and utterly.....preventable!"

"I didn't put that car into the gravel pile! That stupid city gang did!" said
the foreman, defensive and trembling. "Why are you all looking at me like 
I was the one who kicked that kid around?"

Scotty, rendered angrily mute, turned his back as he began talking to the 
police officer newly arrived on scene.

Cap just jerked his head for the other firemen to pick up all the medical 
waste wrappers, labels and needle covers without saying another word. 

He headed off to give out a station's availability ETA to L.A. over the engine 
cab's chatter filled radio and soon, they were free of the sad gravel works
company, ...forever.

-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
 
Photo:  Roy on a biophone, surrounded by rock.

Photo:  Firemen fighting to save a nonbreather with a construction worker.

Photo: Roy bagging a victim in a cadillac ambulance.

Photo: Cap grimacing in barely caged rage.

Photo:  A cadillac ambulance driving away.

Photo: Gage and DeSoto fighting to maintain an EOA in ambulance.

****************************************************************************
From :  crash200225 <crash200225@yahoo.com> 
Sent :  Saturday, September 24, 2005 4:35 AM 
Subject :  [EmergencyTheaterLive] Waiting 
 

Marco backed the squad in next to the ambulance just as the boy was 
being unloaded.  The intense look on both of the paramedics' faces 
spoke volumes.  The child's condition must have deteriorated during 
transport.  As he followed the gurney through the emergency room 
outer doors, Marco heard the sound of distant thunder.  He turned 
back to the squad and rolled up the windows.  There was no way of 
knowing how long they would be there.

Not seeing Roy or Johnny in the hallway, Marco found a seat in the 
nearly empty waiting room.  Having left his helmet in the squad, he 
ran his hands through his hair, then over his face.  

The rescue had effected him more than the others knew.  His close 
friend had died in an 'industrial accident' several months earlier.  
Though the circumstances were vastly different, the cause was the same.  
Incomplete training and stupidity on the part of the supervisor.  
He hadn't told his crewmates about it, not that they wouldn't 
understand.  He knew his friends would try to console him, but he 
didn't want that.  The rage he still felt drown out the sorrow that 
would eventually surface.  He just wasn't ready to face it, not yet. 
When he was, he knew they would all be there for him.

Closing his eyes, an image of the child came to Marco and his barely 
controlled anger threatened to overwhelm him.  He thought about who 
could do something so horrible to a little child, just a baby 
really.  He took a deep breath and let his thoughts drift back to his 
friend.  

 ---------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
"Marco," Roy said for the third time, "Are you all right?"

He had become lost in his memories and had not heard Roy calling his 
name.  "Yes, just tired.  How is the boy?"

"Dr. Early stabilized him.  He's on the way to surgery now.  Johnny is 
getting supplies.  He won't be much longer."  Roy knew they were all 
shaken by the rescue, but now was not the time to dwell on it.  It 
was a kind of unwritten rule not to mention the bad runs for awhile 
afterwards.  They would talk about it at some point, but not now. 

Five minutes later, the three men were on the way back to the 
station.  Johnny seemed to fall asleep before they had left the 
ambulance bay, head against the window.  Marco was in the center seat 
and asked Roy, "You sure he's not sick or something?  He's 
usually 'Mr. Can't-Sit-Still'".

"He was okay in the ambulance and at Rampart.  Like he said, he's 
bushed.  Nothing some sleep won't fix."  Roy answered with more 
confidence than he felt.  He knew how his partner could be sometimes.

"What about Brice?  He went to check on Johnny and fell asleep 
himself.  Maybe there is something going around."  Marco reminded him.

Roy thought about it for a few moments before saying, "I guess it 
wouldn't hurt to check them both out when we get back."

Neither man saw the smirk on Johnny's face.  He hadn't quite gone to 
sleep, but before he knew it, Marco was shaking him.  They had 
returned to the station and Roy had the passenger door open.  He was 
taking Johnny's pulse.

"Aw, Roy, Marco, leave me 'lone. Tired is all.  Lemme sleep."  he 
grumbled.

Roy shook his head and sighed.  "We just thought you might want to 
sleep in your bunk instead of the squad."

"Huh?"  Johnny looked around before stumbling out of the squad and 
straight to the sleeping quarters. He didn't bother to strip down to 
his t-shirt and boxers.  He dove onto his bunk and, for the second 
time that night, didn't remember his head hitting the pillow.     

----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Photos:  None.

**************************************************************************
From :  Roxy Dee <laterrapincabesa@hotmail.com> 
Sent :  Saturday, September 24, 2005 8:57 PM 
Subject :  The Haunted Chat~~ 


Johnny heard a motion in the darkness in the bunk room
where he lay. ::That's Cap. Is he restless!  And Marco's none
too relaxed either.:: Gage thought as he blinked sleepers
away.  His roving eyes studied the ceiling and flicked to
the window, which was still glowing street light blue.
::Dawn's nowhere near yet.:: 

The dark haired paramedic rolled over to eye his partner, Roy,
snoring lightly nearby on the next bunk over. Immediately, his 
overlarge eyes spied an HT on standby lying on the table 
between them ::Got you! :: Johnny grinned quietly. 
::You finally went for the tired act Brice and I crafted hook line
and sinker if you have a radio in here with ya.::  

Trying not to laugh aloud, he glanced over to Brice's bulk on
the bed kitty corner from him next to Chet. Craig was quiet,
and his glasses were off. ::He must have continued the joke
after I "staggered" in here if Roy was concerned enough 
to keep close communication cover in the bunk room after
checking up on me. Wish I had been awake when he
finally came in for me. Oh, well. Maybe Chet was
there watching him. I can get the play by play about what
happened during breakfast when it's light out.::

Contented with the progress of his mother hen fostering joke,
Gage flipped back over onto his back and closed his eyes
in a sigh and soon returned to a much needed slumber.

------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
Ten minutes later, Captain Stanley flipped back his sheets, 
pulled on his suspendered pants, and shuffled into the bathroom
on his boots. Hank was shocked to find that his face was covered 
in a sheen of fine sweat in the mirror. Slowly, he realized that his 
heart was still pounding in his chest. ::Why am I still mad? We're
well done with it!:: he thought about the dead man at the gravel 
works. The nightmare from which he had just awakened was still 
playing shadows of strong emotion behind his eyes.

A commotion made him quickly turn on a sink flow in a pretend
face wash to hide his damp skin. 

It was Marco, just as unsleepy and concealing the fact that he
was actually disturbed. "Hey, Cap. Can't sleep?" Lopez asked him
as he startled at finding him up.

"Just thirsty I guess." Cap sighed, hiding the reason why his
sleep had been broken. "I'm headed into the kitchen for some warm
milk. Uh,... want me to fix ya some? Stoker told me we gotta finish 
up that gallon before it goes bad on us tomorrow afternoon."

Instead of shaking his head, Marco nodded yes. "I think I need all
the comfort I can get after tonight's run." the hispanic firefighter finally
admitted.  

"Oh?"  Cap startled.
He rubbed a tightness in his chest that was coming oddly 
with his boosted heartrate in a pretend scratch through his t-shirt. 
"Wanna talk about it?"

Marco eyed him with a haunted look and his eyes flickered over
the hand Cap was using to grip his shirt's front in an attempt
to silence the hammering under his ribs. That grip, matched his
own, on his own shirt, that was trying to do the same thing. "Yeah.." 
he said softly, meeting his eyes. "I ..think I need to, Cap... And... 
I think you need to, too."

Hank stopped drying his face in a towel with his free hand 
and ended his charade of false calm. In a rush, whispering 
confidentially, Cap let loose.  "Oh, it was awful, wasn't it? 
I-I- I really think that I wanted to kill that foreman, Marco. With my 
bare hands.  And I've never lost my cool on a rescue like that before. 
Not ever. Not even half mentally! So why did I feel something like
that tonight? I still feel plenty angry about it now. And it's two 
hours later!"

Marco surprised him by taking Hank's sudden deep admission in stride.
Lopez waved it away with a dismissive hand and a tiny smile.
He touched Cap's arm, and started leading him to the more private
space offered by the still warm kitchen and rec room. "Believe me, 
I understand completely, Cap. I just lost a good friend a few weeks 
ago due to circumstances alot like those that killed our park gravel 
worker. I've been feeling a little trapped myself lately over him."

Captain Stanley's eyes radiated instant sympathy and caring. "I'm
so sorry, pal. Abou-- about him." he said as they both padded silently past
the quiescent engine and squad in the bay and then through the kitchen's
swing door.

"It's ok. I....think I'll get over it. Only I haven't figured out how yet."
Marco said, looking shell shocked and vaguely numb as they both
moved over towards the refrigerator and the stove after squinting
painfully when the autolights came on.

"Think we should call a CISM counselor for a late night session?" Hank
asked frankly, opening up uncharacteristically to his troubled coworker.
"I know it's been a while since we as a shift, have called for one."

"Nah, having a shrink come to the station would only wake the others. 
And embarrass us further after they nose around a little 
for the reason why. Maybe we could...just have it out just between 
the two of us, and see if that'll do any good before we try anything 
drastic enough like calling for one of them." he said, mincing a salt 
shaker around pointlessly on the eating table.

Captain Stanley blinked, his back still to Marco, as he got
out two empty glasses for their drinks. Hank coughed, trying to 
relieve the tightness he still felt in his jaw. The nausea which always
came with any stress he dealt with began to rise and it finally made 
him speak as he busied himself with the crumpled milk carton marked 
"Use Now." and a sauce pan over a low gas flame on the stove. So he
finally gushed, wide open. 

Cap turned around, met Marco eye to eye, and opened his mouth. 
"Oh, man. I was completely stunned over feeling the way I did in 
front of that foreman. Blind rage, rising grief. A whole gauntlet of 
emotions. I- I didn't actually know what to do with myself after we 
found out that our first victim had been killed because of sheer lame 
brained stupidity and total inaction. I've seen people die for
dumb reasons in the past as a captain, but nothing like--" he choked 
off, slamming down a lump that threatened to make his eyes water.

"This was simply the last straw for you, Cap, and very nearly mine."
Lopez said very quietly. Tears flowed unabashed down his face
as he drank the heated milk Hank finally handed out to him. 
"And we've got to figure how get it all out somehow, before it 
makes us both too hobbled to work well enough to save those
we can still do something about."

Cap found he couldn't release his grief. Not yet. Not even 
a half an hour later when Marco and he finally returned back to 
the sanctity of their beds and the warm roughness of their beige
woolen blankets.

Trying to ignore the weight of stress still bearing down heavily 
on his chest, Cap let go of himself into an unrestful sleep.

In the blackness across the room, Craig Brice watched them both,
thoughtfully analytical and soon, privately worried.

------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Photo:  Johnny, lying in bed in the dark.

Photo:  Cap and Marco, looking unhappy on a rescue scene.

Photo:  Cap closeup, looking stressed.

Photo: Marco leaning against the kitchen sink, thoughtful.

Photo: Cap trying to rest in bed.

Photo: Craig Brice, looking down.

****************************************************************************
From: "Monster Moofie" <monstermoof4me@comcast.net> 
Date: Sat Sep 24, 2005  7:01 pm 
Subject: Monday morning breakfast 


Meanwhile, back at Rampart the night shift had just
ended. Dixie had called Kel Sunday night and made arrangements
for him to come meet her and Joe for breakfast. Dix hurried and
changed out of her uniform and met Joe at the front desk.

Waving to Mike Morton, Joe and Dix headed out and drove to the
diner.

Having enjoyed a peaceful night, Kel waved to them with a smile. He
held up the pot of coffee as they approached. "I secured sustenance
for you two!" he said with a grin. "How did the night shift go?"

Joe sighed happily as he grabbed the cup of coffee Kel poured
him. "It was fairly uneventful for once. 51's brought in a kid
who had been found trapped in a gravel quarry. He was in pretty
rough shape when they brought him in but it looks like he will be
fine."

"I had a few minutes to talk with Johnny Gage while he was gathering
supplies following the rescue. Would you believe they have added
Craig Brice to 51's A shift?" Dixie queried Kel.

"You're kidding me, Dix!" Kel said in disbelief.

"Nope, she sure isn't, Kel." Joe responded.

Dixie hurried to explain further, "The really funny thing is that
apparently the rest of the guys, including Roy, tried to pull a joke
on Johnny and Craig. Johnny told me he was feeling the change of
season and just in a sleepy mood so he went to bed early last night
instead of staying up for movies and popcorn. The rest of the guys
sent Brice in after midnight to check on Johnny. Once he realized
what was going on, Johnny convinced Brice to set up a joke on the
guys by crawling in Chet's bed and joining Johnny in slumber.
Unfortunately, they got the call out before it worked."

Kel laughed hearing the firehouse antics. "Johnny and Brice joining
together to pull a joke?! That is certainly funny! It was hard
enough when we saw Brice working with DeSoto when Johnny was out
because of the hit and run. I have a hard time imagining Brice and
Gage working together, let alone planning something together! Those
two are like a cat and its prey."

Still laughing at the idea of this unlikely pair, the three friends
finished their breakfast. After paying their bill they headed out
to their cars. About to go their separate ways, they noticed the
white land rover that pulled into the parking lot. It parked and
they saw Johnny get out. Johnny approached them with a grin.

"Hey Docs, Dix! You are just who we wanted to see." Johnny said.

"We?" Joe asked Johnny. "I don't see anyone with you."

Johnny grinned and pointed. Unnoticed, Craig Brice had come in from
the other direction.

"Dr. Brackett, Dr. Early, Miss McCall." Craig greeted them.

The Rampart staff, surprised, greeted him.

"You are right, John. They would be the perfect people to help us
pull off this joke. I know all three of you are planning on
attending the upcoming fireman's fall harvest." Craig said referring
to the upcoming fund raiser, "A Safe Alternative For Kids", 
planned for October 31st.

Shocked, the trio could only reply.

-----------------------------------------------------------------

Photos:  None.

***************************************************
From: "patti *mimic* " <pattik1@hotmail.com> 
Date: Sun Sep 25, 2005  6:09 pm 
Subject: The Final Baiting.. 
 

Inwardly, Dixie tried not to gawk when she heard Craig Brice
of all people, refer to Johnny Gage by his first name. But
outwardly, she smiled, really big. "Johnny, just what the heck
are you and Craig up to now?" she asked first, being the
most eager to get social fast enough to satisfy a deepening,
healthy curiosity.

Joe Early blinked, and nudged Dixie, leaning into
her ear so she would be the only one who heard him. 
He disguised his comment as a hug and a cheek smooch 
for her paying his part of the diner bill. "I can't believe you 
mentioned the two of them inside the same sentence." he 
murmured.

Dixie elbowed him subtly back to hush up.

Oblivious, Gage went on eagerly. "Oh, nothing much. We're
just gonna finish what we both started two years ago."

Brackett, fairly familiar with most of the firehouse pranks
that usually occurred associated by station number, took
a crack at it. "Would this have anything to do with the
publicity grudge you pretended to have whenever Brice
was mentioned in the newspapers?"

Dixie and Joe Early had to scrape their jaws off
of the pavement when they heard that comment escape Kel's
lips.

Craig Brice pushed his glasses up onto his nose. "It sure
does, doctor.." looking pleased but a little self conscious
at the same time. He seemed to Dixie a little like Roy just
then.

"Yeah.." bubbled Johnny. "You see,... the guys think that I
still hate him on a professional level. I know that because 
Cap asked me that very question indirectly on my last 
departmental review, about whether or not I still harbored some 
ill will and jealousy towards Brice, during my formal/informal 
psych test."

"The way Mr. Gage behaved concerning me, was pure bunk." Brice 
smirked in a tiny grin. "Uh, no pun intended, Johnny."

"None taken.." Johnny rocked back on his heels in a mutual
self congratulatory stance.

The Rampart three just stared in incomprehension at the firehouse
two.

Johnny explained. "We're trying to make the others think that we're
both laid up in a minor fashion somehow physically and we've 
been using the bunkroom as the setting, doc, to bait the guys." Gage 
told Brackett, who was starting to grin as he learned of just the
smallest twist of shamming currently developing at 51's. 

Kel's eyes twinkled, as Joe and Dixie finally understood the ramifications.

Joe's finger began pointing. "Oh, so I see. You acted irritated about anything
to do with Brice here two years ago, just to set up a larger bait of a broken 
wing act with both of you, tricking them, now." Early guessed.

"You're on the right track, doc. Only it doesn't stop there." Johnny 
crowed. "We need to take things up to a new level now that the guys
are teetering off balance. We need to cap it all with the final blow. And 
that's why we stopped to visit when we saw the three of ya. To get ya to 
deliver the coup de grace on this third phase of ours. The broken wing bunk 
acting is just to throw the rest of the gang off of our true intentions.
We're starting to be the lures to lead the hounds off the fox trail."

Dixie started to frown. "Oh, boy. Do I even want to learn what you two
are cooking up now?"

  "Yes."
"Yes." chorused Joe and Kel at the same time.

The two doctors looked at each other and started chuckling.

"All right, so here's what we want you to do. But it's important to
spring this during the parade REHEARSAL for that fund raiser of 
yours Dixie... That event, uh,..".A Safer..." Gage began.

"...Alternative For Kids"..that I planned on the 31st." Dixie continued.
"All right, I'll bite. What do you want us to do? And I'll go through with this
as long as nobody gets hurt or embarrassed too badly."

"Oh, they won't, Miss McCall." said Craig. "Their uniforms won't even get
wet."

Gage and Brice fell into a paroxysm of laughter at the famous reference 
to the Phantom water can legacy that had ensued between Chet Kelly
and Johnny the year before and they nearly fell over themselves trying
to contain their giggling.

"Here. You're gonna need this. Follow the instructions to the letter on
the very day, ok?" Gage said when they had regained their ability
to breathe.

Kel eagerly snatched the paper that Craig held out to the three
of them at Johnny's words.

Dixie's eyes got real big and very fearful. "I don't want to read it.."

"That's ok, Joe and I will." Brackett shrugged. " You can decide if you
want in after your gotta-know nose festers for a while. Come on, Joe. Let's
read this and go over it before the three of us have to go back for our 
overtime at the hospital." and the two of them headed back to the side of 
the parking lot where their two cars waited. 

Dixie's mouth flopped open and her hands took positions on either side of
her hips. But just as quickly, her eyes lit up. "Is it a good one?"

"The best..." Gage winked at her. But it was genuine, without the slightest
hint of deception. 

And that, finally convinced her.
"Ok,.. I'm gonna go catch up to Joe and Kel. But what, uh,  what ARE 
you guys doing here this time of the morning? Besides, getting us involved
in your latest practical joke war. I thought you both had a 48/96 going on."

Brice pushed his glasses up onto his face a little higher. "We are
working a two days on/four days off rotation. Uh, hospital
staff, especially upper level medical staff, might be able to afford the
prices in there...." he said, pointing to the posh diner Kel, Dixie and Joe
had just breakfasted inside of. "...but us poor firemen, are after the true
cuisine.." he winked amicably.  His other hand pointed to the far end of
the lot. At Davey's Diner, the tiny run down one, located on the corner.

Dixie made a face. "You're going to eat chili dogs? Now?"

"We were busy last night.." Johnny shrugged. "We need comfort food.
And Brice tells me that Marco and Cap probably need it more than the rest
of us."

Nurse McCall's expression softened in sorrow. "Bad call yesterday?"
she asked remembering the child that Joe Early had spoken of.

"Not about him." Gage said, studying the ground, suddenly serious. "It was
about a man we couldn't help at the same scene. Craig says the loss's
taking physical lumps out of Marco and Captain Stanley in a ...how exactly
did you put it?...in a detrimental way."

"Yes, that is the description I utilized." Craig agreed.

"...so we're doing the friends first thing by offering food and being
there without prying, until they decide to dump onto us what they're
feeling." Johnny smiled, wanly uncertain.

Dixie rocked forward on her nursing shoes and kissed him full on
the cheek. "That's so .." her eyes watered. "...sweet, you guys. 
Let me know how they're doing, ok?"

"We will.." Brice promised.

A brash car honk caught all of their attentions. Dixie whirled.
"Oh! Kel's leaving. I've got to go. We came together..."

"So are you?" Johnny pressed, with a cat eating grin.

Dixie smacked him with her purse as she pulled out her head scarf.
"If you must know..." she started to grin. But then her head didn't
move in an up or down nod, or with a shake in the negative, about a 
romantic relationship, in the slightest.

She simply, walked off, with quiet dignity, tying the scarf around her
elegant head.

Gage blustered. "Oh, come on, Dixie. That's not fair..!" he hollered after
her. "We tell ya the nitty gritty about all our relationships... Just look
at what you found out about Craig and me today with this joking thing!"

But the nurse only slid into Brackett's convertible and waved jauntily
as the three of them departed in their two cars.

----------------------------------------------------------------------------

Photos:  None.

****************************************************************
From :  Cory Anda <andacory@hotmail.com> 
Sent :  Tuesday, September 27, 2005 4:55 AM 
Subject :  Pomp and Circumstance.. 


Johnny Gage was still smiling when he and Craig Brice
climbed back into his land rover for their trip back to
the station. "Don't spill those, Craig, or we'll have
spent our four dollars for nothing."

"I can honestly say that I've never wasted anything 
meant for a humanitarian cause." Craig sniffed ruefully, 
sitting ramrod straight in his seat with the cardboard 
carton holding the seven chili dogs in his lap.

"I believe you. But usually things that ya want really bad
to happen, have a tendency to blow up into your face, Craig.
And I'm one of the most well known people around, department
wide, to suffer frequently from that effect. Let's not tempt fate, 
all right?"Johnny wasn't convinced that his newly retuned old
shocks would be merciful or not so he reached over and 
belted Brice in so the paramedic didn't have to let go of any 
of the food he was cradling. "Let me fasten this for ya. Hold still. 
Ok, got it."

"Are you talking about the jinx gene?" Craig asked seriously.

"Jinx g--? Oh, you mean my klutz gene, the one that usually fires
up and causes me to get sick or hurt all the time whether I want
it to, or not?" Johnny said, starting up his ignition.

"You know that is a complete fallacy." Brice said no nonsense.
"Anyone can make bad things happen for themselves just by
thinking about it too much..." he said checking out the intersection
ahead of them. "Road's clear my side. Go ahead and blow through
this yellow light, our food's already dropped by about ten degrees 
Fahrenheit." he declared.

Johnny stepped on the gas instantly, causing both of them to
flatten against the back window of the rover.

Brice blinked, glancing over at his latest, shared, paramedic partner.
"That exact mind set used to trip me up all the time until I decided that the 
effect wasn't going to rule me anymore." he said. "For the first two years
I was with the fire department, I was... exactly... like you for wracking up
a lot of injured days."

"Really?" Gage gaped. He found that he had a hard time concentrating
on driving. "Well, h- how did you manage to get over it? I've been wracking my
brains for about six years trying to figure out how to get sheer bad 
luck to leave me alone for a little while."

"I just let myself think.. 'It won't happen, because I won't allow it.' 
And it never does. Every time."  Brice said with firm conviction.

Gage just slumped in his driver's seat with a defeated sigh. "Easier
said than done. Guess I've never had the will power strong enough
to psych myself outta thinking anything. I always seem ta get caught
up in an idea and then I get completely lost, obsessing about it."

"Yeah, I noticed.." said Brice candidly. "I think that's part of the reason
why we get along so well."

Gage didn't know what to think about that particular 
Brice comment from the peanut gallery. But then he offered
a nut of his own. "Nah, I think we get along so well because 
I never know what's gonna pop outta your mouth until you say it, Craig.
....So,.. are we gonna eat without nosing into Cap and Marco's emotional 
business to give them some space to think about it some more?"

"Yes, I think that would be the least problematic for now."

"I concur." Johnny said deadpan. Then he shook his head. "Geesh,
I'm even beginning to sound like you, ...partner." he grinned in a tease.

"That's not a bad thing, John. The more we think alike, the better
we'll function together as a paramedic team." admitted Craig.
"I see similarities between you and DeSoto all the time."

"You do?"

Brice nodded.

"In what w--? Oh, never mind. Ok, so it's breakfast,.. How about we 
get to Rampart for all the daytime supplies we need afterwards?" 
Johnny smirked, asking the question.

"Sounds like a good plan of action. That'll buy approximately....
one hour fifteen minutes of time where you won't suffer any bad luck."
Brice announced.

"Huh?"

Craig reiterated. "You chose a direction to go without wavering, Gage.
Your klutz gene will be so busy being efficient for once, that it won't have
time to get you into trouble for at least that long."

"Oh." Johnny sighed, not getting the full benefit of free counseling. "Uhhh, 
if you say so.." he said with incomprehension.

Craig Brice returned to smiling out the window mildly, and enjoying 
the aromas coming from the steaming cheese chili dogs in his lap.

Gage completed the drive back to the station, in thoughtful silence.


-----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
The hospital was busy for nine a.m.

Joe Early was making his rounds in Neurology, gathering the latest
test results for all of his non-emergency ward patients on the fifth floor.

Hounding the nurses station, was a whole plethora of visitors, orderlies,
student nurses and x-ray techs all wanting a piece of the floor's head nurse
working there.

Joe felt more than a little sympathy for Carol Evans, Dixie's official second,
as he reached around the stretched phone cord between her and
the countertop for his pile of lab results. "Sorry, Carol. I'll ...be right over
here, reading these. I promise I'll put them back in exactly the same order
so I won't mess up your filing..."

Carol barely afforded the silver haired doctor a glance. She was
concentrating very hard on the person speaking to her on the phone
just then. "I know you just had your stomach surgery Monday.. But Mr.
Stephan, you just can't eat anything your family brought to you. It'll only
cause serious complications..." she told the man in room 602. 

Carol pulled the phone away from her ear when the strong greek 
accented man realized that a mere woman was trying to tell him what 
to do.

Joe held out his hand, to spare her a tirade, asking for the phone. He said
five words. "No, because I ordered NPO." and he hung up the phone.
He nodded curtly to Ned, the orderly. "Go confiscate the take-out from
room 602. And make sure you check all the women's handbags for
handouts, too."

"Yes, doctor." replied the orderly.

Carol finally found a brief pause in her work load as she finished giving
directions for one visitor, fielded another call from the lab, and handed
Dr. Morton the chart he couldn't find in the piles sitting on her countertop.
"Oh, thanks, Dr. Early. He's been trying to speed up his GI tract and recovery
all morning. Only he's too dull witted to understand how dangerous it is to
eat before regaining peristalsis and bowel movements."

"I can understand his apparent haste. I just saw the medical bill his
insurance company's getting." Joe chuckled.

"Isn't that crazy, doctor?..." Carol said in a side whisper. "What in
the world are medical insurance companies thinking nowadays?"

"Dollar signs.." Joe sighed ruefully, drawing double Nixon fingers in 
the air.

"Almost makes you wanna work for free just to spare the patients grief,
doesn't it?" she whispered.

"Well, almost.." Joe laughed.

A commotion from down the hall made both of them lift their heads in
surprise. Someone screamed.  And then, shocking sounds of strange 
sharp bangs that they couldn't immediately identify, ricchocheted 
around them.

Dr. Morton and Dr. Early immediately went running down the south wing
towards the sound of the noises. Carol snatched up the red phone
from the wall and called for hospital security stat to fifth floor Neurology.

Then, she too, went running down the hall with most of the orderlies not
tied up with other patients.

She rounded a corner, skidding on her shoes, and saw Joe Early
crumpled on the floor, inside room 602, lying on his back beneath
a crash cart, with blood on his head. 

Carol Evans let out a scream of her own. "Dr. Early!" 

But then the room's swinging door shut out the sight of him and 
the angry woman standing over him with a bedpan.

Just as rapidly, Mr. Stephan, complete with a walker, smashed into Carol
with enough force to knock the wind out of her and drive her to the ground. 
He brandished a small handgun in the air, causing instant mayhem.

Then he disappeared into the ensuing, panicking crush of people
that he had caused.
 
Carol coughed, violently, trying to get her breath back. She pointed
to the wall as Dr. Morton tried to help her to her feet. But her awareness
started fleeing from pain. Mike eased her back down onto the floor
by his knees from where he was ducking behind an empty gurney
and he shouted. "I got it.. Lie still if you're hurt." He jerked only high 
enough into the air to pull the fire alarm that would signal an instant 
emergency evacuation for the entire floor.

The hospital operator's voice came overhead a second later. 
##Code Red. Code Red. Fifth floor. South wing. Code Red. Code
Red...##

Morton yelled at an orderly who had managed to scramble behind
the nurses' desk. "Call security and tell them we have an armed man
at large in the hospital shooting up the place! A.S.A.P.!"

Then he turned back to Carol to get her true consciousness state
and he tried to figure out exactly where the orderly was that Joe had 
sent into Stephan's room. 

"N-ned..d?" she mumbled. "Oh...n--"

"He's probably been shot.." Morton guessed 
as he lifted Evan's eyelids one at a time peering at her pupils
to check their reactions while he held her neck carefully still. 
"Shhh, Carol. Don't talk. Save your strength. We gotta wait 
until fast help gets here before we can do anything else."

Carol blacked out before she could tell Mike about Joe Early.

-----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

The tones went off, large and long in a multiple station run.
##Stations 99, 8, 24, Engine 2, Engine 39, Engine 20, Battalion 1, 
Battalion 14, Battalion 9, with Station 9, and Station 51. Unverified 
fire alarm at Rampart General Hospital. 1000 West Carson Street. 
Cross street 223rd Ave. 1000 West Carson. Cross street, 223rd 
Ave. Security reports an evacuation has begun. No further 
information is available. Time out:  0912. ##

Cap didn't even swallow his last mouthful of chili dog. He spat it out
into the kitchen sink. "Whoo boy! Move it, move it. Brice! Grab 
the triage pack and kits from my office!" he snapped unnecessarily.
"I'll call us out."

Soon, Cap's booming voice filled the apparatus bay. "Station 51, 
10-4. KMG 365.."

The gang pulled the fastest mobilization rollout that they had ever run.

---------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Photo:  Hospital hall full of patients.

Photo:  Engine 2 running by.

Photo:  Engine 39 coming at you.

Photo:  A fire alarm wall pull box.

Photo:  Joe Early, thoughtful close.

Photo:   Rampart's driveway in daylight.

Photo:   Squad 51 roaring through a parking lot.

Animation:   A firing handgun.

Photo:   A hospital patient room.

Photo:   Triage kit and vest.

Photo:   Triage kit, rainbow tape and tags.

Photo:    Triage tag.

Photo:  Brice, marking time on his watch, in the squad.

****************************************************
From: Sam Iam <lafddispatcher@yahoo.com> 
Date: Tue Sep 27, 2005  4:51 pm 
Subject: Condition Dr. Black.. 


Dixie McCall's head snapped up at the declaration of a 
possible fire on the fifth floor of her hospital by the operator.

She got over an instant of heart pounding sheer denial but
then got busy right where she was at the main emergency
room desk, to start delegating priorities for the soon to
ensue evacuation of that level.  Dixie made sure a smile
stayed plastered on her face for those few waiting room
and outpatient visitors who glanced up curiously at the
Code Red general announcement. ::Like that code stuff
really fools anyone.:: she scoffed deep inside. ::They know
there's trouble somewhere. We're not fooling anybody.
Someday someone should decide on a new page code for 
emergencies around here. These are archaic.::

She told the operator to flash a condition orange voice
and wall beacon code at all nurses stations displaying
patient call lights, to run things by the book. ::That way, our people 
will take the assigned positions called for by our steady state 
evacuation plans.:: she nodded mentally. She no sooner had 
that completed when she saw sharpish movement out of the 
corner of her eye.

Kel Bracket burst out of the minor surgery treatment room
where he had been washing up. "Dixie.. real or false alarm?!"
he asked the second he was within comfortable earshot. Brackett
kept glancing around offering smiles to non-staff passers by even
as he minced inwardly as the emergency situation progressed
around him. It began subtly, with a greater frequency of stairwell
doors opening and closing along with the elevators'. 

"I haven't heard yet from security or any staff member from
that floor yet." she admitted, glancing self consciously at
the ivory phone still resting quiescent in front of her. ::Odd.
Someone should have at least told us down here if
anyone was smelling smoke or seeing it out the patient
room windows.:: she thought.

"All right. Let's assume worst case scenario. Dixie, get
all the free nurses and orderlies stationed at all the stairwells
until the fire department gets here to confirm that we're actually
on fire. I want extra gurneys and wheelchairs surrounding the
elevators to hold those evacuating those wings so we can move
them outta here."

"Already done, Kel." McCall said. "A minute ago. I called
a condition orange just now."

"How many stations are coming for this?"

Dixie threw her head up at the always on fire and police
scanner parked on a remote relay EKG monitor. "Five stations,
and three engine companies along with three of their battalion
chiefs, probably to organize things on each flank of the building."

"Quite a response for a possible false alarm." Kel frowned half,
ruefully and half amused. 

"It was told differently this time. The fire dispatcher added that 
an evacuation was underway on the all call." Dixie blinked.

"Has Security called yet?" Kel wanted to know.

"No, strangely enough. I wonder what the trouble is.." 

"I'm going up there. Hold the fort?"

"Kel...." McCall began, beginning to feel uneasy for some reason.

"Dix, I'm going to use the stairs, don't worry. Besides, Joe
and Mike are up there and they might be able to tell me what's
going on a little bit faster than security would if they're being
beleaguered by the public like they always are at every
possible fire alarm."

"Keep in touch with me." Dixie said reluctantly, pointing to
the red phone hanging on the wall by the glass alcoved base
station.

"Don't I always?" he grinned, as he disappeared up the nearest
stairway for the fifth floor.

Then Dixie moved to the waiting room to calm down the visitors 
who had begun noticing the growing stream of gowned patients 
and orderly pushed gurneys leaving the freight elevator doors.

A scream from one of them attracted her attention. Her head whirled
and she spotted a blood covered orderly falling out of a side stairwell.
She ran forward after yelling at a nursing student to go get a doctor
or resident.

It was Ned, the orderly.  He was trying to staunch a rapid flow of
blood from his lower abdomen with his arms and elbows where
he had fallen. Dixie immediately pushed him over, grabbed a blanket
off a nearby unused gurney and began applying pressure over the
wound using the floor and her hands as leverage. "Ned... Ned.. It's
Dixie. What happened to you?"

"A....cr-crazy man. He shot me!" Ned gasped quietly, mindful of
the public ear ironically even though he was in full gory view. 
They were already gaping and horrified. 

Consciousness was creeping away from him. 

"Easy, Ned. Lie still. Let me control your bleeding..." 
Dixie snapped at a nearby security guard, who was glued 
to his shoulder radio. "Get over here and take over!" she 
told him. "Do what I'm doing. I have to notify the police about 
what's happening now.." 

Another fast thinking nursing student found a trauma pack and tore it open
for McCall and showed the security guard how to use it, freeing
up Dixie to do her new automatic designation as head triage for the ER.
That had fallen onto her shoulders the moment Ned had tumbled into
her arms. 


Running for her desk, Dixie broke out a small triage case filled with
priority tags and colored strips of ribbon. ::Now's the test of this 
new system of the fire department's.:: she thought.  She handed
out a red plastic arm strip and triage tag to the student nurse 
who had stopped to help, from the wired spooled bundle in the
bright orange box.

"Red tag him! Write down Ned's name, vitals and time, and where his
wounds are located.." Dixie told the student. "Then get some muscle 
to help get him onto a gurney until a doctor gets here." she ordered. 
"When he does, take them all into Treatment Three. Stat! When you give
him full flow oxygen, use a portable tank in case we have to evac 
down here as well. And good job on getting out those trauma
dressings so fast. He'll live following some surgery."

"Miss McCall." the nervous nursing student said, ducking her head
with an almost non-existent smile as she rushed to carry out her orders.

Dixie rubbed the loose hair out of her eyes with an elbow while she
wiped the blood off of her hands on a clean surgical drape from the 
neatly folded stack on a gurney near her desk that had been waiting 
to get put away by supply. Then she voiced to all the public. "Leave or 
stay. Your choice. Think about your safety first! If you need immediate 
medical attention, there are fire paramedics outside to aid you!" 

Almost everyone, left the hospital, in a hurry.

Soon, the ivory phone in front of her rang.

Dixie snatched it up. "Dixie McCall. Emergency." she said quickly.

##Dixie! It's Morton! Four staff members and I are pinned behind the 
fifth floor nurse's desk, under cover, from a man and a woman, both
with handguns. The male assailant's a patient of all things from room 
602 ! Tell the FD that there is no fire at all. Get some police support 
for us A.S.A.P.!! It's not safe! Let absolutely no one come up here. 
I've been sending those patients and visitors that I can still reach, 
down only! So far, we've heard no more shots fired past the four
or five initial ones a few minutes ago. ##

"Any more injured?" Dixie asked outwardly calm as she watched
orderlies and a doctor, who had come from the direction of the 
cafeteria, as they knelt beside Ned to begin his trauma care. 
"A shot orderly just collapsed in the waiting room. It's Ned."

##Just Carol. She was shoved against a wall by the jerk who
started this whole mess!##

Dixie's heart leaped into her chest. "How is she?" the nurse asked 
before she could stop herself.

##Stable! A moderate concussion only. She's already starting to
wake up for me. Now go!  Pass the word along!##

"Mike, Kel's on his way up there! He doesn't know what's going on
yet!"

##I'll try to intercept him.## and the phone clicked off line in her ear.

Dixie picked up the red phone on the wall to the hospital operator,
who had halted all non emergency pages in deference to the conditions
red and orange in effect. "ER front desk. Notify the police of two armed
suspects running rampant, last seen, on the fifth floor. Then notify the fire 
department of the same thing. Be sure to tell them that there's no active fire...." 
Dixie held her breath. "That's right. Now all page a situation Dr. Black on 
all overheads." McCall didn't even pause at the gasp from the operator 
who recognized the 'weapons wounding staff' emergency code. She hung 
up immediately.

Dixie left her desk when the freight and regular elevator doors all started 
opening in earnest, disgorging its passengers who had fled the fifth floor.

The operator's falsely steady voice started paging the unreal Dr. Black.

She sighed gratefully when security guards appeared and started manning
the stairwell doors and elevator lobby for any possible gunshot danger.

She held up two fingers at them so they knew the number of suspects
and so they'd check through the window doors and as elevator doors opened 
for their dangerous presence before letting any evacuating people leave 
through them. It went unspoken that if the gunpeople were spotted, to bar
their way into Emergency by any means possible. ::They aren't police,
and aren't supposed to risk themselves for us, but I know they will, 
regardless of their own safety.:: Dixie thought quietly as she tried not to 
worry herself and those visitors and outpatients milling up to her asking 
questions.

The evacuation continued. 

--------------------------------------------------------------------------- 

Captain Stanley heard an update from his station's battalion chief over
the line. ##Battalion One to all stations District One 
responding to Rampart Hospital's incident. There is no fire. 
Repeat: There is no smoke. However, the fifth floor is the scene of an 
ongoing seige and shooting. Deploy on standby and assist the 
evacuation process, using appropriate precautions. ##

Johnny, Roy and Craig Brice immediately ducked their heads and moved
around the side of their squad facing away from the hospital. They saw
their engine crew, do the same thing. 

Captain Stanley motioned. "Move in. Check it out." he told them. "Engine
crew, assist evacuees only. Gage, DeSoto, Brice.. go in and see if they
need paramedic assistance. Report what you find immediately as you
learn it, over HT and keep your heads down!"

The three station 51 paramedics nodded.
They used the trees and the skyway's underside and the side of the building 
as heavy cover away from the story windows to reach the ambulance 
loading doors of Emergency, carrying only their triage tags, vests and 
radios in with them.


In the distance, they heard a new batch of sirens growing from the east, 
from an ample police unit response to the hospital.

And then they were in the building.

--------------------------------------------------------

Photos: None.

****************************************************
From: Katherine Bird <kathbird01@yahoo.co.uk> 
Date: Thu Sep 29, 2005  9:33 pm 
Subject: The Black, the White... and a whole lotta Red... 


"Dixie!"  Gage called out as soon as Roy and he had spotted her
through the frightened hospital visitors and the hurrying medical
staff directing them. They headed for her.

Brice, decided on a more practical approach. "Johnny, I'm going
to go find a police officer for a report. We can't move around
if it's not safe..."

Johnny spun, high in adrenalin, and spoke up. "You do that. Let
us know that aspect via HT. We'll go find out the medical needs end
of it."

Craig nodded and departed for the front entrance of the hospital
and the receptionist, who would be the first person to notice the
presence of any police officers who began a storm inside.
 
Roy noticed the blood splattered on Dixie's navy colored nursing
sweater. "Are many people getting injured by this shooter?"

"Yeah, good question. Where is he?" Gage asked angrily, repositioning
the air bottle and its dangling mask a little more tightly around his waist
by the straps.

"Fifth floor south, and not just one gunman, but two. And they know each other. 
Roy, there's only one shooting victim who fell out of a stairwell and 
a nurse concussed when she got in the way of someone leaving in a hurry."

"Ok, we'll start sweeping for other injured in the stairwells once the police
have cleared the way ahead for us." Johnny told her. He blinked when he
noticed the bright orange vest that Dixie now wore that had Triage Commander
stamped in black across her breast pocket and in bold print on the back. 
He radioed out to Incident Command. "Squad 51 to Battalion One. 
Head of triage reports only two casualties so far. She has a radio.." he said, giving
her a spare from his jacket pocket. "My partners and I will give further details as 
soon as we know them. Our captain has our incident tags on his clipboard. We will
be heading to the fifth floor, south wing when we are well under police protection.." 
he told him.

## Battalion One, Squad 51. 10-4. I'll have all pumpers and laddertrucks
standing by. I'm sending in your captain to relay to us through you during 
your sweeps. Keep us fully advised on any possible developing fire
situations or other potential life risks.##

"Squad 51, Battalion One. We will advise." Roy answered their district chief.


Dixie  grabbed the sleeve of his turnout. "No one's heard from Joe Early 
since all of this began. He was last seen in the south wing. Kel's gone up
after him." 

"Stupid!" Johnny muttered. "And he's the one who taught the two of us
about considering a scene's safety first." 

"Johnny..Joe's his best friend. And mine. Assign blame when this is all over.
In the mean time, we've a h*ll of a lot of people needing guidance before
they go panicking further. It's partially up to us to make sure they don't 
go hurting themselves trying to get out of here." Dixie changed her ribbing 
tone and said. "I've activated triage protocols hospital wide." she said, 
patting the kit sitting on the desk in front of her. "Using the system."

"The chief's already authorized us to use ours.." Roy said. "Ahead of
time. We knew to bring ours along the moment a large building full of
people was implicated."

A clatter of leather shoes on tiles ended the conversation. Six police officers
with their guns drawn ran into the ER for the elevator lobby and the two stairwell
hubs following Craig Brice, who was acting as their guide. 

Dixie recognized two officers. They came up to the desk. "We're your scouts,
firemen. Stay behind us until we say the coast's clear." said the fair haired
one firmly. Then he smiled. "Hi Dixie.." said Pete Malloy. "Who ticked off
a patient this time? Dietary? Or the billing department?" he joked.

Jim Reed, Pete's squad car partner, gave a quiet nod and started ordering
the public away from the stairwell and elevator lobbies to give them room
to enter. "Pete! I'll take two of these firemen, and you take the other pair."
he said, carefully keeping his loaded gun pointed up at the ceiling.

The paramedics looked around and saw that Cap was quickly 
jogging his way over to them from the crowded entryway.

Malloy motioned Brice and Johnny to go with his solo search. 
"Our other four officers are going for the roof, west and east stairwells, 
and the basement level to see if we can either negotiate with these two 
characters or take them out."

Dixie took a deep breath in sharply, but she knew that lethal force
was in the picture. ::That's ever since Ned ended up with a bullet in his
gut.:: 

"What are their names?" Reed asked Dixie, ready to commit anything
to memory.

"Philomena and Georgio Stephan." she said, checking a chart with fingers
that were already starting to shake, not something she usually suffered from,
no matter how hairy her department became during a work shift.

Gage reached over and squeezed her hand. "It's ok. We'll get him down, and
in one piece, too." he said, nodding at Malloy's hand gesture to begin 
following behind him for the trip up the stairs. "And that goes for Joe, too."
he promised, heading up the stairwell after Pete but before Craig.
Brice pulled the landing door shut behind them with a snick.

A second echo of the same sound repeated a few seconds later over
the loud evacuation babble, when Officer Jim Reed, the junior most half 
of Adam-12's patrol team, took Roy and Captain Stanley with him, 
doing the same search casing, in the opposite stairwell. 

Dixie guessed that it would take them less than three minutes to reach
Dr. Morton's level, even stealth checking around every corner with a muzzle
of answering fire power pointing the way ahead first.

Dixie jumped when the nursing student returned and tapped her lightly
on the shoulder. "Here, Dixie. I thought you'd might like to clean up a little."
said Karen giving her a small bowl half filled with warm water and a
green bottle of Phisoderm and along with another surgical towel.
"Oh, sorry. I didn't mean to startle you."

"It's ok. Today's the kind of day that'll make anyone jumpy. Including me."

"But you're so... experienced, Miss McCall.. I thought..." 

"Well, you thought wrong. I may be wearing these collar insignias but
I'm still human and can still feel everything happening around me just
as acutely as you can." Dixie told her, a little harshly. Then it was her 
turn to apologize. "Sorry right back. I don't need to vent just yet. The fact 
that I just did's freaking me out a little. How's Ned doing?"

"Dr. Theilen says that the bullet missed the descending aorta and only
lodged in a section of his large intestine without damaging the liver
or bladder. He's earmarked for surgery and he's very stable. 
A surgical resident's monitoring him while we wait for an outcome
in case he needs to be moved from three for someone more critical."
said Karen.

"Good girl. Now how about pouring us a round of coffee?" Dixie smiled, 
fingering the hand held radio that she had craftily turned to Squad 51's 
band. Know-how told her that she could always flip back to the main 
incident channel if a battalion chief wanted to speak with her by listening 
to the scanner that was still on behind her for their hail. Right now, she 
wanted nothing better than to be able to see through four hospital floors 
to the nightmare drama probably unfolding over all their heads.

"Can we even think about drinking these during a time like this?"
she said, pouring two cups from a well heated coffee pot.

"Sure, why not?" Dixie asked. "I'm afraid this whole mess will be with us
for a long while before it's finally over. It'll do our patients no good if
we get overtired and exhausted for not eating or hydrating properly
like we have to do anyway. Just think about it, if we get out of 
commission, then who'll be left to help all of them?" she asked, throwing
a chin out at those moving by the desk for the exits.

The very young student nurse, Karen, smiled nervously. "That makes
a whole lot of sense, Dixie. I- I'm sorry I questioned you."

"Go right on asking questions, Karen. After all, I'm still one of
the senior preceptors for you, even though I'm now wearing this 
triage vest."

"Speaking of that.. why aren't the top end fire chiefs in here inside
the hospital, coordinating efforts to solve our alarm and evacuation 
problems?" she asked.

Dixie sat down on her desk stool, dragging the radio, ivory and black phones
a little closer to her.  She invited Karen to take the one next to her from its
storing place underneath the pharmaceutical cabinet. 
"Well, because in this case, a paramedic outranks any senior ranked fire 
chief wearing a white helmet. You see, when the first units arrive at a 
multi-casualty incident, they are certainly going to be overwhelmed. 
Just look around you." Dixie said casting a hand at the ambulance doors
where a confusion of fire fighters, police officers and reporters, milled about.

"There is a temptation to set up the management levels of the 
organization first, so the operational levels will have supervision when 
they are assigned.  Like what you thought, on their current absence 
in the building.  

"If they wanted to do this, most organizations have to use personnel 
from the first or second wave of responding stations. This removes 
them from the triage / transportation / treatment provider role, creating 
a delay in getting patients to primary care. After 10 to 20 minutes, it would
be a sad sight to see many rescuers in ICS vests, setting up their operations 
and no one attending to the victims.  

"Remember that it is not necessary to assign mid-management 
positions until the maximum span of control is exceeded. An incident 
commander like me in an ER triage role, can easily handle 5 to 7 
direct reporting positions before an Operations Chief or medical group 
supervisor from upstairs or outside, is needed. Assigning your first 
arriving operational units to hands-on functions as much as possible 
will speed up your ability to triage, transport and treat your patients.
That is why Johnny, Roy, Craig and only one fire captain, Hank, was
sent inside to rendevous with us."

The young nurse to be just frowned, biting her lip.

Dixie smiled and closed the young woman's hand around her untouched
coffee cup.  "Karen, if you think about the things that need to be done 
before you can transport a patient, it becomes clear where you need to 
assign your initial resources.  Here's the most critical mantra of triage.
Learn it, because Dr. Brackett will expect you to know this better than
you know CPR...

       "Before you can send a patient to a hospital, you must have an 
        ambulance available and get a destination from an area coordinator. 

      " Before you can get a destination, you need to know how many of what 
        category of patients are loaded in the ambulance. 

      " Before you can identify what category a patient is in, they must be 
        tagged and carried to the ambulance loading area. 

       "Before they can be tagged, they must be triaged...."


Karen's eyes got a little wider. "And no one is better trained to triage
already,.. than a..."

"...a paramedic." Dixie said with a little bow of her head in a knowing grin.
"That's right. They're better than doctors. In that respect. They won't
get tripped up on diagnoses when sorting out any sick or injured. They stick with
just the basics on determining survivability and nothing more. Now let
me tell you how our triage system works now. This is a new system our
administrators just accepted from the fire department.. That is why those
condition orange lights are flashing over all our work stations. Ready?"

Karen nodded her head.

-----------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Pete Malloy hit the top stair and dropped onto his stomach after 
turning the knob ajar on the stairway door above him. He glanced down
to make sure that Brice and Johnny were well below him by two full landing
turns, before he cracked the door open with his night stick.

The door swung open with a creak onto a pitch black fifth floor to his
great dismay and chagrin, absolutely nobody appeared to be around.

Malloy squinted in the dimness, eyes casting around for the 
nurse's station, where the hospital operator had said that four staff
members and one injured nurse were trapped behind.
 
-------------------------------------------------------------------------

Photos: None. 

*************************************************************
From: Patti or Jeff or Cassidy <theaterhost@voyagerliveaction.com> 
Date: Fri Sep 30, 2005  9:46 pm 
Subject: Endgame.. 


The Los Angeles County police officer risked
speaking softly. "Hey..." he stage whispered. "You
behind the desk. Where are they?"

He heard the sound of a woman's muffled moan and
that made him duck his head even lower against
the floor between the frame and the door.

"He's down the north wing. We think by the surgical
store closet." came back another whisper. Pete Malloy 
saw the glint of glasses in the dark reflecting the bright 
light of the stairwell. It was Dr. Morton.

Pete put the safety back on his handgun, and belly 
crawled to the desk and then, he, too, took cover
beneath its high edge. "You put the lights out?"

"Yeah, figured we'd make less visible targets."

"That was smart thinking."

Another moan made Malloy look down and the policeman
saw a penlight briefly turn on in someone's hand that
illuminated the face of a dazed nurse. "How is she?"

"She'll be okay. Hit her head when Stephan decided
that he had had enough of his expensive hospital stay." 
Mike whispered, still cradling her head in his lap with a 
few fingers monitoring Carol Evan's neck pulse. "I don't
know where his wife is. This surgical tech swears up
and down that she hasn't left the room yet."

The young man huddled next to the african american
doctor nodded, vigorously. "One of our doctors may
still be in there. No one's seen him since the first shots
were fired." he fretted, keeping his voice low.

Pete set his lips in a thin line, holstering his gun for
the moment. "First things first. We should get this
nurse and all of you, out of danger. Can we move her?"

"Yeah, her back and neck weren't injured..." declared
the tech, while Morton worked to soothe Carol into
keeping quiet.

Pete pulled his hand held radio off his belt and turned the
volume way down. "744 to Squad 51. The coast's clear
so far. Beeline only from the stairwell straight to
the desk. Eat the floor coming over so you're not
spotted. Tell your firefighters friends that we need some
way to get an adult female who can't walk down the
stairwell. She's breathing and semi-conscious. I'll watch
your back while the two of you get this nurse and the 
other staff here to safety."

Morton grinned when he recognized Gage's voice
over the handy talkie. ##Already got that covered with
a stokes. Here we come....##

"Anyone else up here with us?" Malloy asked the
frightened hospital workers.

Morton shook his head. "They all got out except for
our missing doctor."

"Ok, we'll look for him next." Pete promised.

Pete saw Brice briefly stand to unscrew the light bulb
inside the stairwell on their level so that they could 
open the door without being exposed by back lighting.

Then he saw Gage prop open the door with a jacket halligan.

The two paramedics softly stomach dragged their bare 
stokes across the open space of the dim hallway between
them, taking care not to rattle the straps inside the 
chicken wire mesh. They quickly got under the cover of the
nurses' station and the eerie condition orange beacon
flashing there and they drew their legs up protectively
to their chins.

Pete motioned ahead of them. "Wait to get them outta
here until I give the high sign. I'm gonna make sure our
friends out there don't get any more bright ideas about
shooting anyone else."

"How's Ned, the orderly?" Mike asked.

"He's still alive last I heard." Malloy told Morton. "Ok, hold
fast until you hear me tap my nightstick on the floor."

Morton and the others nodded.

Pete turned and spoke once more into his radio on the quietest
volume. "744 to 2430.."

##Reed here.##

"I'm making my move from the nurses' station, headed your
way, on the north side of the wall along the bottom. Firemen 
behind me will be getting the desk nurse and medical staff outta 
here down the same stairwell I came up in. Then Brice and Gage
are gonna take cover back behind the desk..."

##10-4. I'll cover you. Any sign of those other doctors or the two
suspects?## asked Jim, Pete's partner.

"No, 'fraid not..." Malloy sighed. "Here I come.."  

##Go.. I see you now.##

Brice and Gage froze in place with their fire gloves on Carol to
keep watch over her while Pete scrambled over to the cover
of a tipped over gurney and then further down towards the 
south wing at the crossing intersection of the two fifth floor 
corridors. 

They held their breaths and Johnny tried to shush Evans 
in her half state with a hand over her mouth while they tried
to keep an ear out for Malloy's sharp signal.

From what seemed like an eternity later, came three taps 
and the flash of dull blue metal of Pete's shotgun as he 
redrew it and pointed it towards the deeper shadows of 
the south wing. 

"Ok..that's us. All right. Ready?...I got her shoulders, 
Craig..." whispered Johnny as he and Brice and Morton 
lifted Carol up and placed her into the stokes basket 
on the floor. Then they began the slow process of dragging 
her stretcher across the tiles, keeping on both of their 
stomachs. Fortunately, the waxed linoleum made it
relatively easy for them.

A minute later, and Carol was firmly in the hands of a 
series of firefighters in the stairwell, being passed down 
hand to hand as she was conducted to Emergency
as fast as they could move her out of danger.
 
Gage reluctantly let her go. Brice got his attention 
with a tap on the shoulder as the rest of the fifth floor 
staff passed by him. 

"Be careful you two. Here." said Dr. Morton, shoving a 
small airways and emergency kit into the paramedics' 
arms. "For when you find him.." Mike said about Joe Early.
"And Kel's being stupid, too. He's somewhere up there
trying to find Joe."

"We know.." said Johnny unhappily. "Dixie told us.
We'll find em. After all, we are experts on search and
rescue, remember?" Gage whispered sarcastically.

That only made Morton grin as he disappeared 
down the stairs. Then the doctor's face was all business
as he once again got ready to focus on Carol Evans' 
well being and care.

The false bravado Johnny put on for Morton's benefit washed
away in a wave of nervousness that made him jittery. He
ducked back down to the floor imitating Brice for their trip
back to the nurses' station. "When I joined the department
and said I wanted some excitement, I didn't mean this 
particular kind of 'fire' fighting." he complained to dump 
a little stress.

"That's what the men in blue are for, Johnny. To run us some
interference so we don't have to worry about it." Craig smiled 
back."...much." he added. "Officer Malloy wouldn't have told us
to stay in a place that he felt wasn't safe. As long as we remain 
here, nothing'll happen to us."

"We hope.." Gage mumbled.

A flash of gold white light and the thunderous barrage of two fired
shots in close quarters startled the firemen, who kissed the ground
underneath the counter. The echoing violent whines died away
into a frightening silence.

Swallowing around his dry throat, Brice lifted his radio to his ear
for word of an outcome. No voices came out of it.

Johnny stayed Craig's hand when he wanted to speak aloud to
the two officers on the band with them. Gage put a finger to
his lips, listening to an area just ahead of the desk.

A man in white, vivid enough to see, stumbled barefoot down the hall
in front of them, trailing a torn I.V. line. It was Mr. Stephan! And the
shadow Brice and Johnny could see coming from him, 
showed the outline of a small revolver clearly..

Johnny's breath whistled loudly in his throat as numbing near panic
almost crippled him. But the two firefighters didn't move a muscle, 
instinctively locked into a freeze.

Grunting in anger, Mr. Stephan staggered past the desk and down 
the stairwell propped open by Johnny's jacket tool.

Brice didn't wait. He got on the radio. "He just went past us down
our stairwell!" he whispered sharply.

##Understood. Reed's gonna follow! Hang tight. And get ready
for the lights to come back on. We're gonna start evening the odds!##

The whole floor re-illuminated in a hum of power, right down to the
ringing telephones. 

Brice reached up over the counter, and yanked them, one by one
off their receivers with fast tosses to re-silence them for the two
policemen still deep in their hunt for the Stephans. Jim Reed
ran by in a duck as he began his careful chase after Georgio.
"It's safe up to Room 601. Let Malloy check out 602 before you
search down the hall any farther than that first room!"

The two paramedics nodded, still staring at the ceiling
pointed gun in Reed's hands. 

Johnny managed a little bravery. "Were those shots yours or 
theirs?"

"Theirs.." Jim grinned craftily. "We wouldn't have missed."

And then he was gone, leaving the two paramedics alone
and huddled on the floor in each other's arms.

Slowly, Brice and Gage unfolded to begin searching for
Brackett and Early within the area Reed told them to.

----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Dixie was still doing a fine job keeping Karen, the student nurse,
calm. "Managing a scene with multiple patients can be 
frustrating and difficult. There are just a few steps needed that
will help you systematically triage and treat each patient. Now I'm
sure you're familiar with the red tags, those suffering from life threatening
conditions that might die if not treated as soon as possible. Well, there
are two other colors, yellow/delayed, and green/minor..."

Karen began to shift uncomfortably on her seat.

Dixie immediately soothed her.
"It is important to recognize that you are not abandoning patients by 
assigning them the Delayed or Minor category tags. Remember
that they will be directed to the rescuers that have been assigned to 
handle those kinds of patients.  They will also continually monitor
all the yellows and the greens and re-assign them to the red/immediate 
category if they start to deteriorate, ok?"

Karen nodded nervously. 

Dixie went on.. "Now, yellow is delayed, strictly for those patients
whose respirations are under 30 per minute, with capillary 
refill under 2 seconds and able to follow simple commands. Now
for the green tags. Remember that patients with minor injuries 
are still patients. Some of them may be frightened and in pain. Reassure 
them as much as you can that they will get help and transport as soon 
as the more severely injured patients have been transported first...
Lastly,.. black tags are for the deceased.." Dixie shared. "Now....
For triage sorting..ask those who are not injured or who have only minor 
injuries to identify themselves. If they can,..tag those with minor injuries 
as minor/green..."

Karen tried very hard not to fidget as the noise in the ward began
to grow from some kind of new development down the hall..

Dixie drew back her attention gently.. "Go to your next victim..
and think.. respiration first. Determine if the patient is breathing. 
If yes, immediately check the respiration rate.

"If there's none, reposition the patient. If he or she does not start breathing 
spontaneously, do not start CPR. Any patient not breathing after 
repositioning, you'll tag deceased/black. Move on to the next victim.
Not starting CPR may be the hardest thing you must do at a multiple 
casualty scene. But if you perform CPR on one patient, many others 
may die for the sliver of a chance that your pulseless victim may have.
It isn't worth the price to pay in stopping to help that kind of 
physical finding." Dixie told her.

"Even with so many doctors and others around to help us figure things
out?" the student nurse asked.

"Even then. You can only run a code on a triage scene if you have the
personnel to cover it and still do what needs to be done without pause."
Dixie said.

"But what if they have a neck injury.. or--"

"You will have to position the airway without manually stabilizing the 
cervical spine. This is counter to what you have been taught and may 
result in worsening a cervical spine injury. But if you don't reposition 
the victim immediately, the person will die in the field. You won't have 
the personnel to carefully stabilize the C-spine and you can't afford to 
let other victims die while you take time to do it yourself. 
If the patient begins breathing spontaneously after repositioning, tag 
the person immediate/red and move on. If necessary, ask an uninjured 
victim to help maintain the open-airway position. So, to reiterate...
if a person begins breathing after repositioning, tag immediate/red."

Karen tried not to pay attention to the police officers suddenly rushing
in from surrounding areas around their desk. She stared only at
Dixie's face for a small measure of calm that she wasn't feeling herself.

McCall was a rock. "Next victim.. If the victim is breathing when you 
approach, but has a respiratory rate of more than 30, tag immediate/red
and move on. Don't take time to formally count the respirations. 
If the rate seems too fast, tag the victim red and go to the next person.
So... a respiratory rate greater than thirty is a...."

Karen parroted mechanically, trying not to panic outwardly at the commotion
going on near them. "Red tag, immediate.."

"Right... Good." Dixie said. "We're not in danger, Karen, so ignore
all the fuss over there. It's not our concern right now. Triaging is. Let's
continue... Umm, where was I? Oh, yes...perfusion.
If you can feel a radial pulse, move on to the mental status assessment.

"If you can't feel it, the blood pressure's at shock levels below 90 systolic.
Tag the patient immediate/red. If you have an uninjured victim near you
then, have them put direct pressure on any visible, serious bleeding 
and then move on to the next patient. In sum at this step:
No radial pulse at the wrist means.... red tag/immediate.
 
"Next, check for capillary refill by squeezing a nailbed.
If capillary refill takes more than 2 seconds to return to normal,
tag the patient immediate/red and have another put direct 
pressure on any visible, serious bleeding so you can 
move on to the next patient.  Capillary refill that takes greater
than 2 seconds to normalize is a red tag/immediate.
But, If capillary refill is less than 2 seconds, move to getting
a mental status..
 
"If the victim is unconscious or can't follow simple commands, 
tag them immediate/red and move on to the next victim. 
Now, you're probably wondering about these yellow tags, huh?"
Dixie said, fingering those in her kit.

Karen nodded. 

Dixie completed her thought. "If the victim can follow simple 
commands, tag them  yellow/delayed and move on to the next victim.
And that's all there is to it.." she smiled.

"That's all?" Karen gaped.

"That's all. Triage isn't rocket science, it's one hundred percent
common sense. And this new system of the fire department really
works. Now we may not have to use it today, there's always hoping."
Dixie said, her eyes getting a little wide with irony.

"And how.." gushed Karen with stress. "Now that I know what to do,
I hope not to have to."

"Good girl. Drink your coffee.." Dixie told her. 

Karen gulped it down. 

"Ok, do you have any questions for me about this triaging system?"

Before Karen could open her mouth, Carol was brought in via stokes
and then there was no more time for talking.

-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

They found Joe Early where he lay in 602 by line of sight but 
nobody couldn't approach him, for Mrs. Stephan was standing 
over him with a gun.

Malloy was all cop, his nose barely sticking around the edge
of the doorframe. He motioned Brice and Gage to get into
the flanking rooms to open both connecting doors ajoined on
opposite sides of Room 602 so that all three of them could see 
each other yet still be out of the line of fire from the very upset
woman. "What's the problem ? Your husband was
receiving the best care possible for his cancer.." the cop 
asked.

"You american peoples! All you care about is the money in
your pockets! My husband is in pain! Not the kind that hurts
him here.." she pointed to her stomach where Georgio's stitches
were. "But the kind that hurts him here!" and she pointed to 
her temple, alarmingly, using the same gun she was brandishing.
"And I don't think I can take much more either.." she weeped.

Pure fury consumed her and she picked up a steel bedpan
and hurled it randomly across the room. It clattered with a racket
and bounced right in front of Craig Brice's hiding place in
the side doorway. Johnny Gage ducked in sympathy on his
side of the room in the mirroring alcove entryway as Craig caught
the flying thing before it nailed him.

"Easy, Philomena, take it easy! Now let's relax and think about this, 
shall we?" Pete asked her without showing himself once iota from 
around the door frame. "Acting hasty will only get more people hurt.."

That acted like a pistol shot in Philomena and her mouth flopped
clean open. "My Georgio hurt somebody?" she asked in her
thick Greek accent. The gun in her hand fluttered from her temple,
back down to at her side. 

Malloy used the distraction to motion the firefighters to take a
better look at Joe who was still motionless on his back, lying 
partially underneath the crash cart, his face full of blood from
a freely bleeding head wound and split lip.

Gage cocked his head and was alarmed to find that the semi 
comatose doctor was gurgling. "Doc! Hey! Roll over!" he
shouted, unable to stop himself. "Or you're gonna suffocate
and choke to death on all the blood!"

Philomena startled, whipping up her gun to point at the source 
of the sound. Malloy, just as fast, whirled into the main doorway
from the hallway, pointing his own gun straight at her. "Hold it
right there. I don't want to hurt you. That's just a friend wanting
to help that man right over there.." Pete told her, throwing his eyes
at the strangling Dr. Early. 

Philomena's hand never wavered. Neither did Malloy's. 
She didn't even seem to care that a gun, just as lethal as
her own, was aimed right back at her chest in a line of kill shot.
"What man?" she asked.  She didn't seem able to comprehend
that her husband's doctor was lying in a pool of blood at
her feet. All she cared about was her husband.

Malloy changed tactics and he left the two firemen paramedics
to figure out Joe's urgent dilemma on their own. He had to worry 
about his own skin, first. "Where's Georgio, Phila? Can you tell 
me that? It wouldn't be right if he keeps on trying to hurt the 
people who are only trying to help him, would it?"

Philomena tipped her head in high emotional distress."No,
it wouldn't be right. But I have to protect him.. don't you see? I'm
his wife." she sobbed.

It was then the police officer and two paramedics realized
that Philomena was deep in the early stages of a complete
acute, nervous breakdown.

Johnny snapped his mind back to the present. ::Joe'll die
if I don't do something fast..::  He continued to shout. "Joe!
Roll over! You're bleeding real bad into your mouth. Can
you hear me?! Joe?!"

But Joe only choked, his breathing attempts growing weaker
as he drown in blood. Then he stilled, turning blue.

Thinking fast, Gage retreated back into 601 and fumbled
with that room's crash cart, grabbing up a whole box of 
endotracheal tube guide wires. He ripped it open and
began to twist them together. "I'm gonna hook his belt,
Brice, to drag him over here! But I'm gonna need a distraction
first."

"What kind of distraction?" Craig asked him. 

"I don't know! Think of something. You always tell everybody
indirectly how smart you are...so live up to it." Johnny grunted, 
groping cross the floor with his swifty improvised tether, still 
keeping under heavy cover away from Mrs. Stephan's line 
of sight. 

The hooked end of the wire flipped open Joe's white lab
coat almost instantly, but complete missed snagging 
a belt loop.

Groaning, Gage tried again while tuning out the desperate
dialogue carrying on between Malloy and Philomena, still 
locked one on one beneath mutually pointing gun muzzles. 

------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Captain Stanley felt alone in the crowd of e.r. folk. He cast
about, only half listening to his HT when he caught word that
Mr. Stephan was on his way down the west stairwell, still armed.
And that, cast pure lead into his chest. "This has to stop. This
has to stop now.." he mumbled.

Not considering his own safety in his emotional turmoil, Cap
snuck by the security guards and started jogging up that 
same stairwell to take matters into his own hands.

------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Jim Reed was pure stealth on the stairs. He took the steps
quietly, one by one, letting his gun's muzzle aim whereever his
eyes were looking as he pursued Mr. Stephan down the landing.
He didn't say a word, knowing that any noise he made might be
rewarded with the snapping crack of a bullet sent his way. He
didn't like going downwards in an active gun pursuit. He never did.
Going in a downward direction was never good because 
balance wasn't preserved.

Maybe it was because he was thinking so hard, but the next
turn, brought him face to face with a charging madman in a patient
gown. 

Jim Reed raised his gun and braced on the steps to fire at
Mr. Stephan at point blank range. But he didn't pull the trigger.
Not yet. He began to search for a reason for a need to shoot 
in those few precious seconds while he looked for the telltale glint 
of blue black metal Georgio's hand.

---------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
On the third try, Johnny did it, snagging Joe's belt firmly with
his improvised dragging wire. "Craig! I got him! Distract her
while I move him over to me!"

Brice, looked around desperately for some means but then his
eyes alighted on the bedpan next to him. He picked it up.

---------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Malloy told Philomena a simple thing. 

A lie.

"Mrs. Stephan, your husband has given up to our officers."
he told her, holding up the radio he carried in his other hand
slowly. "I just heard him do it." said Pete, keeping his bead
on the distraught woman.

"What?" Philomena blinked. "No..." she started to fret, suddenly
dropping her gun's muzzle away from her silver badged target. 
"That's impossible! We agreed that we would not do this thing 
until the doctors promised to help him using assistance from 
your government for all the bills. They... they are growing 
too much.." she wailed.

From out in the hall, the sound of distant shots fired, drifted into the room.

The effect on Philomena was dramatic. "Georgio?! Why are you killing 
people?! The war was over twenty five years ago..." she whispered in
agony, dropping her eyes away from Reed while her chin lifted in
an attempt to peer down the hallway.

Brice reacted, and threw the bedpan at the code blue button over 
the patient rumpled bed. It activated and soon the hospital operator 
began her urgent page. ##Code blue. Code blue. Room 602. Code 
blue. Code blue. ##

At the same moment, Gage pulled back on the wire, dragging Joe
Early swiftly across the floor toward him.

Startled at the sudden activity, Philomena whirled and fired blindly.
Two bullets bounced off the floor in between Joe's shoes as
he was dragged to safety. 

"Drop it!" roared Malloy, taking the safety off of his gun.

With a sob, Philomena cast down her gun and fled out the open
window onto the ledge outside the hospital.

Malloy just as quickly ran over to the fallen gun, and disarmed it.
He got on his radio. "744 to Battalion One. We've got a woman
on the east side of the building on a window ledge. Possibly suicidal.
The gun threat in room 602, is over." he told them.

##10-4, LAPD. Sending up a ladder and bucket team a.s.a.p.##


Brice saw that the coast was clear and he ignored the drama unfolding
outside the window. He got to Gage's side as fast as he could. 
"Johnny?"

Gage had Joe Early flipped over onto his side, draining out 
a lot of free blood and saliva. "He's able to breathe.......now.
Just gotta get some more of this out." he added more 
sarcastically. "What about Philomena?"

"She's no longer our problem." Craig said as he and Johnny 
helped Early.
 
They held his mouth open while he worked liquid free, mouthful
by coughed mouthful as he began to wake up under their
ministrations.

Soon, the code blue team arrived from an emergency freight
elevator into 602 to assist the relieved paramedics on managing
Joe's recovery.

------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Jim Reed's finger was just about to press on the trigger when
a sudden blast of water from a fire hose suddenly pinned the
crazed man against the wall. 

The completely surprised officer whirled to find a determined
Captain Stanley standing next to an equally pissed off Dr. 
Brackett, helping him on the firehose nozzle.

A huge smile filled the young officer's face when they finally
turned the water off. Mr. Stephan dropped his gun and started
clutching his side where the water had stung his surgical stitches
and tore a few open. "Now's that's a novel way to clean up the 
picture." said Reed.

Kel started to laugh. So did Cap, until a spasm gripped him around
his throat and chest. He bent over and fell against the wall, dropping
the charged firehose.

Dr. Brackett grabbed him. "Captain Stanley? What is it?"

"My chest.." Hank hissed. "It's been hurting since last night.."

"Put your arm over my shoulder. Let's get you downstairs and I'll
take a look at you. Can you walk?" Dr. Brackett asked. He motioned 
for a firefighter to help him with Cap even as a whole slew of cops 
ran up past them to help Officer Reed cuff Mr. Stephan.

"Yeah..yeah. I think so.. This is weird.." he gasped. "I'm healthy
as an ox I tell you."

"Maybe so. But if this is a new problem, I wanna know all about it.
Let me run a few tests on you?"

"Fine by me.. Oooo." Cap grimaced.

Brackett caught more of the captain's weight. "Orderly! Get a 
gurney over here on the double!" he said as they exited the
stairwell. 

----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Roy DeSoto had been the first firefighter on the ledge to handle 
Mrs. Stephan's situation. And he was still talking to her as she
cried, holding onto the ledge's thin steel safety railing, the only 
barrier between herself and the five story fall to the ground. 

"Mrs. Stephan. Your husband is fine. I don't know what you 
thought earlier in the room, but..I- I just got word that he's 
been taken into safe custody by the police. He hasn't been
killed like you say you think he has. No one else has been
shot. Just the one orderly. And he's gonna be fine."

"Georgio...?" she whispered. "My Georgio..." 

"He's ok. Please, d- don't do anything hasty. We all just wanna help 
ya." Roy said from the window, stalling, as he watched the 
bucket, still three stories below, rise slowly up towards them.

Philomena made a face and suddenly looked down the front of
her blouse, noticing the splatters of blood just then on her hands
and sleeves. "What...what did I do?.. " she asked softly, trembling.
"Did I hurt someone?"

DeSoto carefully turned up his radio as he listened to Johnny
and Brice give a care report to those down in the e.r. base station
through the HT. He heard his partners mention the fact that Joe
wasn't shot anywhere, only beaned from something that had
inflicted blunt trauma. Johnny guessed over the airwaves 
that Joe had been knocked out with a patient's bedpan from 
what blood he had remembered seeing on the one Philomena 
had thrown. "Uhh,..not badly. Anger does sometimes get the best 
of people. It's nothing to be ashamed of. You're under a lot of 
stress right now and some of that could just be coming 
out in an odd way." DeSoto reasoned with a small smile. "It's 
really ok to be feeling the way you are now."

But Philomena wasn't listening. "I... beat up..somebody?" she 
asked again, in growing horror. She had very good hearing and
she had listened to every word coming from Johnny and Brice's
HT transmission while they worked on Joe Early, inside.
 
Without a word, Mrs. Stephan rose up from her crouch on
the window ledge and leaped off the height before anyone
could stop her.

----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
Joe Early and Captain Stanley lay on matching beds in the same
treatment room. Roy was taking Hank's blood pressure.  
Kel bounced back and forth between his two patients, chattering
worse than Dixie in a firm mother hen mode. Cap's EKG was 
on audible and his I.V. was T.K.O. 

"I'm seeing nothing out of the ordinary, captain." Kel concluded,
pulling off his stethoscope. He began folding up the cardiac strip
for Hank's patient chart. "You're absolutely fine. Most likely your 
symptoms are all just psychosomatic because you're holding in
something that's bothering you, like the chaplain said you were 
doing."

"Mind caused? Whew.. that's a relief.." sighed Cap on the table. 
"For a minute on those stairs, I thought I was a goner. Guess 
I'm just feeling old today."

The hospital chaplain stood, acting his role as a CISM
counselor for both Cap and Marco. And they were finally
talking together freely.

The man of the cloth continued his counsel and he chuckled.
"I frequently run into the old 'dinosaurs,' who says, 'I don't need 
this, but I'll be here to see you kids through it.' Then, during 
debriefing, the dino'll bring up a car accident that happened 30 years 
ago, and he'll recall every detail. I can't stress enough the 
need to talk it all out, fellas." he says. "I don't care if you talk to your 
steering wheel, your dog, your partner or your spouse. Part of the whole 
macho image in emergency services is having this mindset about 
not taking your work home to the family, but our entire team tells 
people, 'When you've had a tough call, your kids know as soon your 
foot hits the door that something is different with Dad. They 
aren't sure what and don't understand all the ins and outs, but we always 
strongly encourage everyone to talk to their spouse and kids about 
the call. The more you talk about an event, the easier it is for you to 
park it in the right spot. It's having the attitude of, 'I gotta suck it in; I 
gotta keep it in my gut; I can't talk about it,' for fear of being a wimp 
or not 'one of the boys' that's self-defeating." said the chaplain.

Dr. Brackett agreed with him.
"I see emergency services folks having heart attacks at age 59 
and cirrhosis at age 56," said Kel. "They're chewing up their bodies over 
20 years of service, because they didn't go park stuff.  Bottling things
up had literally eaten away at them. So keep what the chaplain's telling
you in mind. Every time you talk about an incident, it'll take a little 
more of the load off your shoulders."

"CISM is not a magical thing that cures all. But neither is it a stigma, boys. So
use it. And use me. Now. Both the good doctor and I are after the same thing
here. It's all about keeping healthy people like the both of you, 
healthy and strong." said the chaplain. "You see, the principle of all this
is that sometimes decent folks like yourselves just need to get a little mental 
overhaul or two done to learn how to handle the emotions which can come 
barreling down on a truly bad call.  Please, call me anytime you want to talk about 
one of those and I promise, I'll drop everything I'm doing and stop by 
the stationhouse or at your own home." and the chaplain handed Captain 
Stanley a small light blue business card.


"O.k." promised Marco and Hank.

Joe Early was thoughtful. "So, Johnny. The nurses are telling me that
you signalled my potential code by throwing a bedpan at the code blue
button on the wall?" he chuckled as a nurse cleaned up his face and a 
resident got a local ready to stitch up his lip.

"I didn't think of that gem, doc. Brice did." Gage complained.

Cap laughed. "And I thought I was the one acting a little odd with my 
reactions. I wouldn't call that a by the book protocol, Craig. What happened
to your personal mantra of being letter perfect in all that you do on the job?"

Brice just shrugged, finding himself at a loss for an answer.

"There's being perfect and then there's being a genuine menace 
to society, Cap." sighed Roy DeSoto. "I don't think a flying bed pan'll
count for too much in the long run."

"Guess it won't." Cap agreed.

"Not unless you're dying under another crash cart and we're being
held at bay by gunpoint again." Gage quipped to Joe Early. 
"Then, it just might become another standard emergency medical 
hospital protocol if people begin to see how useful that little trick is."

Dixie and her student nurse Karen, just rolled their eyes.

----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
It was three days later,

Gage and Brice were drying the dishes early in the morning in
the kitchen, when the sound of an engine pulling up in the backyard,
garnered their attention. "Shh, here they come.."

Brice snickered. "I wonder how it went. Did Brackett and the others
live up to their word?"

"They must have." laughed Gage, as he peeked through the blinds
at the angry expressions he was seeing on the rest of the gang
as they hopped off the old refurbished engine in their dress uniforms.
"Well, well, well. Looks like this joking stew is well seasoned and
ready to eat."

Brice smiled and handed Johnny another clean towel.

Gil, filling in for Marco while he took a few days off to talk with
the CISM counselors some more, asked. "What did you two do?"

Gage, started smiling. "We didn't do anything. Dixie, Kel and
Joe did all of it for us.." he said, without elaborating.

Gil cracked Johnny in the butt with a wet towel for being evasive.

Gage howled, rubbed a nether cheek, and then, finally, answered. 
"They took an empty box, put a couple of full soda cans in it 
to weigh it down and tied it to the back bumper of our old engine 
with some string. They then wrote on it with black marker 
"FREE KITTENS. just before the start of Dixie's parade event.."

"They didn't." chuckled Gil.

"They did." said Brice laughing even louder, his voice barely
a squeak when it came out.

Cap, once he got inside the station, made sure he glared
good and hard at Craig and Johnny. 

But no one glared harder at them, than Chet Kelly.

He said. "We left the station this morning and got pulled over 
by the fuzz about ten miles down the road I'll have you know. 
Clowns, Cap. The both of them!"

"Well, what happened?" asked Gil, fighting to keep from smiling.

Stoker told him. "The cop at first was furious, but then saw 
he Johnny and Brice's little joking stunt and couldn't stop laughing. 

"And we went through that whole d*mned parade trying to figure 
out why people kept pulling up beside us, yelling." Hank scowled.

"Well, well well, Mr. Craig T. Brice. Guess we can rest on our laurels now."
grinned Gage. "That prank of yours, has simply got to be the best joke I've 
ever had the pleasure to help sow." Johnny said with a lopsided smirk. 
"Congratulations, Craig. I think we pulled it off in grand style,..like
true masters." and he started to laugh aloud to the point of tears.

Brice had only one thing to say to that. "Phantom, read it and weep." 
he told Chet and the others, winking just his left eye..."...for I do 
believe that you all......have just been seriously ...had."
 

FIN
 
-------------------------------------------------------------------------

Photos: None. 

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

            
                            End Credits --  Episode Twenty Five (Fourth Season)
                                      
                                              §§   The Overhaul Principle     §§


              :)   This episode is dedicated to the designers of                       :)
                    the START Triage System..   The Simple Triage 
                    and Rapid Treatment (START) program was 
                    developed by Hoag Hospital and the Newport Beach Fire 
                    Department, Newport Beach, CA.  http://www.start-triage.com/

               :)                                                                                                         :)


The Story Unfolds...

Season Four, Episode Twenty Six..
 
 §§  The Shallow Light    §§
 
Debut Launch: October 1st, 2005. 

 
**************************************************
From: Patti Keiper <pattik1@hotmail.com>
Subject: Burger Wars..
Date: Thursday, October 6th, 2005. 08:48 CST USA

 
Johnny Gage was eating his hamburger as fast as he could
stuff each humongous mouthful into his mouth. He was being
watched uneasily by the owner of Davey's Hotdog stand.

And Roy, ignoring Johnny completely, was watching the diner
owner in very high, almost laughing but silent amusement.
DeSoto leaned closer to his partner. "You think he's wondering
when you're gonna start choking on that?"

"Huh?" Johnny asked Roy, raining a few bun crumbs and wiping a
smear of ketchup off of his chin with a few fingers. He fidgetted
a bit, trying to figure out where to clean them off until Roy handed him
a napkin from the dispenser sitting on the picnic table in front of them.
Then he looked around and pegged whom Roy was talking about.
"Oh. Him. Hasn't he ever seen a firefighter eat before? Man, that's 
rude just staring like that." Gage said with both cheeks 
stuffed to capacity. He deliberately pushed another hamburger
into his mouth, making a face at the owner while doing it.

"Maybe he doesn't know that I'm a paramedic and can fix a choking
before it'll even have time to drive away all of his other customers."
Roy reasoned.

"Very funny. I'm only hungry. I don't like people staring at me while I
eat. And I don't think that's why he's staring at me." he raised his voice. 
"Whatcha staring at over there? Is there a problem?" he asked loudly 
at the owner to be heard over the busy afternoon traffic running by them.

The owner of the diner still looked uncomfortable and uneasy and
he tried three different ways to fold his arms across his chest trying
to look nonchalant. But then his face hardened. "I'm trying to figure 
out how many burgers you're gonna stuff down that maw of yours 
before you choke on it."

"See?" Roy shrugged at Johnny.

Johnny made a face back at DeSoto and turned to set the diner owner 
straight. "Listen, Mac, or whatever your name is." he said swallowing
and gulping down half his soda pop. "My partner and I have been
coming here for nigh on six years now, giving you our business and
hard earned cash. I know better than to draw unwanted attention to
folks coming to your stand."

"Oh, really? You mean that big flashy red truck, loud blue shirts, and
shiny silver badges winking in the sun, aren't bad enough to attract
a little attention?" Mac asked. "I just watched five businessmen walk 
right on by just now when I know that they usually stop in to get something."

"Now hold on just a dog goned minute here!" Johnny said holding up a 
finger, his ire rising.

Beep! Beep! Beep!  hailed the HT in front of the three.
##Squad 51. Child down. 1450 McKenzie Way. 1450 McKenzie Way.
Cross street Reynolds. Time out. 13:09.##

Roy rose, neatly tossing away his empty paper tray and crumpled
napkins. "Come on, partner. Save the showdown until later. Do you
really want to lose the convenience of having such a cheap 
food stand located so close to the station?"

Johnny blinked. Twice.

"Thought so." DeSoto said. "I'll let you finish these on the way
without telling Cap you ate in the squad." he said grabbing up 
Johnny's remaining two burgers and his soda into one hand.
He answered L.A. with the other. "Squad 51, 10-4. KMG 365."

He had to drag Johnny away from his deadly earnest glare at Mac.
Only the nature of the call and the urgent wail of the sirens tempered
Johnny into civility as they hurried away.

Gage put on his helmet after taking his food tray from a hand that
Roy had hefted up like a waitron, holding it, while he drove the squad 
one handed, deftly, through the heavy lunchtime rush hour. "I was
only trying to prove a point."

"So was he. And I think he would've won that argument. He has you
wrapped around his little finger because of the size of your appetite,
Johnny." Roy smiled as he sped up a little faster.

"Says who?"

"Me. And most likely him, if he were here. Watch yourself Johnny.
Didn't you see the naval "I love mama" tattoo sticking out from
under his sleeve?"

"I was too busy trying to work up an appetite around all that bear
grease of his dripping in his hair.." Gage admitted, eating quickly and
throwing all of his crumbs and stray bits of meat out the squad window.

"He's trying to look dapper and neat for his customers."

"No one greases their hair back anymore, Roy. No one. Not unless
they're sixty years old or something."

"Well, how do you explain Cap then?"

Johnny opened his mouth but nothing came out.
Then he shrugged. "Well... Cap's a different guy. That's all.
Besides, he looks good slicking his hair back."

Roy did a double take in surprise.

"Well, you know what I mean." Gage said, finally finishing his hasty meal.
"Makes me almost wanna do the same thing. I'm getting sick of my hair
always blowing in my face while on a rescue."

"Cut it short then." Roy said with finality and a straight face. "Like
McConnike keeps warning ya to." he said, turning around a corner
automatically, without needing to look at the road.

"I will. I will in time. Don't push me." Gage blubbered. "First things
first. I gotta get through my date later this week without making any
drastic changes in myself before going on it so she won't get mad."

"I don't think any amount of drastic change will make her 
think any better of ya." Roy mumbled.

"What?" Gage asked, not hearing Roy over a particularly loud
crescendo of the code three sirens.

"I said we're about to make fantasic time here. Five miles in two
minutes? That's gotta be a squad record." Roy said.

"Must be. Here we are. There!  Over there... There's a mother running
out to meet us." Johnny pointed.

Roy pulled the squad over as quickly as he could along the curb of 
the affluent surburban neighborhood home and was surprised to find a 
police officer already on scene. Fearing the worst, the two paramedics
dragged out all the medical gear, including the resuscitator and the
defibrillator while the frantic mom gave her very panicky story.

She said.....

------------------------------------------

Photo: Close up of the squad's door.

Photo:  Roy smirking at his partner.

Photo: Johnny eating a burger very fast outside.

Photo: A diner stand owner staring with a funny look on his face.

Photo:  Johnny Gage holding a panicky mom.

*********************************************
From :  Cassidy Meyers <killashandrarey@hotmail.com> 
Sent :  Monday, October 10, 2005 12:38 AM 
Subject :  Reading the situation.. 


"Hurry! Please! It's my son! He can't breathe!" Then, in
sheer anger on top of the fear, she stabbed a finger towards
the curb angled squad car and a black uniformed L.A. cop
sitting inside of it, speaking quickly on his radio. "He had
the nerve to say that I was panicking my own kid and...and..and
then his partner just....locked me out of my own house!" yelled
the young mother as she struggled in Johnny's arms, in just that
kind of high panicky state herself.

"Easy, ma'am. Calm down a little. I'm sure there was a very
good reason for what he did." Gage disassembled, pulling
off his helmet. He took advantage of a person's natural 
instinct to take whatever's handed to them and shoved it
into the mother's palms. "Here. Hold this while we carry
our medical gear."

The trick, worked like a charm, and Johnny was free to rush
things along. 

At the same moment, Vince's partner jogged up 
from his squad car and retook possession of the mother's
flailing arms when she threw Johnny's helmet angrily
into the rescue squad to get rid of it. "Sorry, boys." 
said Nate.  "I had to call another squad car to
look after the rest of this mother's children. She's beyond
listening as you can see, and yes, I have the whole story. Vince 
recognized the child's problem immediately. It's not a choking
in the slightest and she says.." he said throwing a chin down
at the mother.." he's got a history of high fever 
along with severe swallowing trouble. Mom said that
he wasn't eating at all or playing with anything in his mouth
when his trouble began.  So far, the kid's still managing to breathe. 
Barely. Vince is holding him sitting straight up. And that's 
the only thing that keeps him breathing at all. He's calm, only if she's not
within eye or ear shot. The mother's agitation seemed to make 
him worse."

"How old?" Roy asked as he hurried in picking up the resuscitator
case and I.V. and drug boxes. Johnny snatched out the EKG monitor
and defibrillator and rushed on ahead to the shut front door.

"Five years or so." replied Nate the officer, grunting as he got a better
hold on mom. "Ma'am. I'll give you another minute to start settling 
down!"

"He's four and a half! Let me go!!" fought the mother. "You can't
keep me away from my baby like this! I'm his mother, you horrible
men! My husband Alan's a lawyer! He'll have your badges for this!!" and
she let out a heartrending, blood curdling scream that brought looks
of surprise and suspicion on the part of all the onlooking neighbors
gathering on the sidewalk. A few even started to get angry on behalf
of the mom. Nate immediately changed their minds on interfering, with
a warning touch to his gun holster. The mother even tried to bite Nate. He 
stopped it, of course, giving the mom every chance to get a hold of some
of her stupider emotions.

Johnny nodded firmly. "Keep her out here until we've checked him
out. Ma'am, can we treat him?" he shouted over her cries.

"Why the h*ll do you think I called for help in the first place?! Idiot!"

"Hey!" Nate told her sharply. "Enough of that. Keep your voice down
or I'll arrest you right now for disobeying a police officer and interfering
with a medical call."

It was the wrong thing to say. That set the mother off the deep end verbally
and she began a litany of trucker talk that would put the most veteran
fireman and police officer to shame.

Gage ignored them both and Roy and he went pelting up the sidewalk,
fully laden, until they reached the porch. They set down their gear and
Johnny reached up to knock to be let in, but then thought better of it,
thinking of the child's explained presentation. For a few seconds,
Roy and he were at a loss on how to get to him, after they tried to push
on the expensive brass handle and the door didn't open.

Just then, the calm, soothing baritone of Vince Howard came through the
open screen. "Push the doorbell like button to the left. It's an electronic
lock. Stay quiet as you can. He does a bit better that way. Ditch your badges.
Mine only scared him.." Then they heard a strange comment. "Got the suitcases
mommy wanted for Mikey and me?"

DeSoto, not yet knowing what the problem was that Vince had spotted, went along.
"Yes, the red, white and black ones. We'll bring them in to you.."

From inside the house, the two paramedics started to make out high pitched
squeals and sounds of very tired attempts to breathe by the little boy.
Roy hit the button and the massive carved door buzzed open a crack.

Gage angled a head, listening to the window as he unpinned his fire badge
and put it into a pocket. "No coughing. This definitely isn't croup, Roy. No
seal's bark at all. Drug related? I'm smelling crack cocaine smoke." he
wondered as he watched Roy take off his helmet to leave on the railing.

"That may be her doing but not his. Not if he's sitting up."
Then the nature of the child's emergency, dawned on Roy the second he
noted the way the boy had arranged himself in Vince's arms. The child
appeared very toxic with flushed skin, leaning forward with his mouth open 
and chin extended in an effort to maintain his airway and he was drooling long
unswallowed strings of saliva onto the lush carpeting over his limp, elbow
tripoded knees.

"Epiglottitis.." Johnny said softly to DeSoto, even as he smiled in an 
act for the wide eyed, glassy fright barely held at bay by the child. "I'll just set
our luggage behind the couch here, Roy." he said a little louder and very
feigned friendly.

"Okay, Johnny. Then let's meet Mikey here because mommy invited us
in to meet him." he explained to the child.

Vince held very still, holding the boy's forehead and chin in his hands.
"It is what I figured?"

"Classic." DeSoto agreed. "You were definitely right to get mom busy
with the mail outside. Any commotion could have definitely set off
a laryngospasm." then he grinned artificially, keeping just as subdued
and calm as a reader in a library. "Hi there, Mikey. I'm Roy. Can I feel
your skin to see how your fever is before we play with you?" he asked.
"Mommy said you weren't feeling well today.."

The boy's eyes darted everywhere despite his body being totally 
drenched and exhausted from his work of breathing. But Mikey didn't 
flinch and only blinked when Roy gently looked at his face for the quality 
of capillary refill and the extent of cyanosis in the boy's gums through his 
gaping mouth. Those tissues were still pink but his tongue was turning 
liver purple with every fast exhalation. 

::There's the oropharyngeal edema effects compromising his trachea.::
DeSoto thought. "Johnny, almost got our suitcases unpacked over there?"
he asked Gage quietly. "I'm ready to play."

Gage looked up from behind the couch. "Almost. Got some 
new toys out that we brought with us." he said for Mikey's benefit. "Here's
the blow up football for Mikey." he said walking over and handing Roy a 
disassembled pediatric ambu bag. Mikey allowed it to be placed
in his lap. While he was distracted with that, Johnny placed a laryngoscope,
endotracheal tube, the rest of the ambu's mask portion and a syringed paralytic 
agent behind Roy's back, where the boy couldn't see them. He slid them over
until they touched the bottoms of Roy's kneeling feet so that he knew they were
ready in case the child obstructed suddenly at a loud sound they couldn't prevent
fast enough.
 
"Wow, we sure brought you a nice football, Mikey. Look at that, it's green." Roy 
said, pointing to the ambu bag in the child's lap. "I'll let you play with it first." 
he said, connecting a running tube of oxygen to it so the flow leaked richly 
around them through its open tubed end.

The child watched but didn't try to pick up the ambu. He was too weak physically
to grasp it even though his eyes were fully anxious on the edge of terror. Vince 
had to hold the inflatable between the boy's hands for him so the oxygen stream
coming from it could reach the boy's face.

Glancing over, DeSoto saw Johnny choose to pick up the lamp table's 
phone and not the squad biophone line in order to raise Rampart for the call
in another clever way to keep their patient calm until they got their treat
and move orders. He was still staying behind the couch, getting the defibrillator
open and a needle cricothyroidotomy setup the proper size, out of the boy's
line of sight.

Gage hailed the base station on landline. "Operator, this is a Los Angeles County
Fire Department Rescue Squad. I'm Fireman John Gage. I need an immediate
patch to Rampart General Hospital's Emergency Department in Torrance 
about a sick child ASAP........Yes, I can give you the proper number." 
And he did.

Roy, in the mean time, managed to get a wrist pulse and the child's
belt off for breathing ease. He wrote the rate down on a piece of paper.

Vince, started talking. "So how do you like my two friends, Mikey? I told
you they would bring you some toys you haven't seen before."

Mikey didn't smile. But his painful, rasping stridor didn't get any worse.
Then he tried to say something. Roy quickly shushed him with a finger to his 
own smiling lips so the child wouldn't cough and obstruct.

Vince bit his lip realizing what he had almost done. "Sorry." he mouthed
silently. He concentrated on seeing through the lacy curtains of the
living room window and noticed that Nate had finally had enough of being
Mr. Nice Guy. The mother was getting handcuffed against the rescue squad
while the newly arrived backup police unit kept the now just curious 
neighbors under a careful watch.

Howard's eyes drifted towards the crack pipe that he had found ignited
on a plate across the room. It had snuffed out nicely under the overturned
clear Cheerios bowl that he had dumped out to use to smother it to rid the
air of its taint. The cereal had been dried out and sitting in days old soured milk.
::The boy hasn't eaten obviously. He'll get a meal in a couple of days in intensive
care.:: thought Vince. ::That's if he makes it that long.::

Gage thought of victim counts and he looked up at Vince, waving a few
fingers to get his attention. "Where are Mikey's siblings?" he mouthed.

"In the bedroom. They're sniffly, but not like Mikey. I turned on Seasame Street 
for them." Howard replied.

Johnny nodded and got right back to his phone call as Dr. Brackett gave him
his initial instructions. ##Securing an airway is the overriding priority, 51. 
Obtaining vital signs or any other diagnostic procedures are to be considered
completely secondary to that primary concern. Physical examination should be 
kept at a minimum with careful attention so as not to increase the child's anxiety. 
Skip placing your EKG leads. It may cause him to cry and obstruct.  If you can,
leave him in his mother's arms, it'll keep him calm.##

"Uh, that won't be possible, doc. She's currently a crack addict going off the 
deep end." Johnny told him when he caught onto Vince's subtle point to the 
tabletop and as his eyes alighted onto the pipe. "But he does tolerate Roy and a 
police officer so far. Rampart, would you call us a second ambulance for
the mother through dispatch for us?"

Kel Brackett nodded at Dixie and the trim nurse took the note he
scribbled down. ##It's done, 51. Are you able to get ahead of
his oral cyanosis? I know you told me that he's still conscious and attempting
his own ventilations.##

"Somewhat." Johnny replied, seeing Vince trying to entice Mikey to keep
the "football" nearer to his mouth and nose. "However, his acute stridor
is continuous with intercostal retractions. There is very abundant drooling,
but only moderate perioral cyanosis."

##Ok. Do not attempt direct visualization of the epiglottis by depressing 
the tongue, at all, Johnny, unless he blacks out or he'll tighten up fast. 
We'll assume that you've pegged the correct diagnosis until it's ruled out. 
This situation's far too volatile for us to add paramedic/doctor frills. 
Perform a nasotracheal intubation under controlled conditions, if necessary, 
with the patient seated absolutely upright during the procedure to avoid him 
sealing off until it's in place. Only attempt orotracheal intubation or a needle 
crich in a complete obstructive emergent situation. I've assembled the 
necessary personnel on my end, including an anesthesiologist on standby 
and an endoscopist in the event of a difficult intubation. Expect a frank 
respiratory failure at any time, Johnny. Keep him warm, oxygenated,..
and get in here as soon as possible. We'll worry about the I.V. after we've
guaranteed his airway. Transport non code R and cushion him from all jars
or bumps. Let me know about the mother as soon as you get her lined up
in the second ambulance.##

"Uh, doc. One more thing. The police say there's a few more kids who 
are sick here, but not as bad. Want them to ship with me?" Gage asked.
"Or will that be too much of an exposure risk for the boy from 
his infectious condition and their potential ability to startle him?"

##Put them with the mother. Hopefully they'll calm her down enough for
all of them to tolerate a transport. I'll check them out after the boy's stabilized.
Is the mother still combative?##

"Verbally. But she's now restrained." Johnny replied when Vince crossed his
wrists together in a gesture to let him know the lay of things with her. "I suspect 
our ETA is..... as soon as we get everything and everyone packaged up and 
we get over to you. We're about four miles out."

##Bring the boy in first. No delays. Have Roy bring in the mother and siblings
at his own pace as needed. We'll be standing by.##

Johnny and Roy soon reversed their luggage ruse and an afghan soon
snuggled around the boy in Vince's arms. He was hugging the ambu
"football" tightly in his fright, but it was near his face. Roy helped
the boy keep his chin up with a soft firm grip, as the two men slowly walked
outside the house into the sunlight. Soon, Mikey was seated safely in 
a quiet Mayfair with Johnny and Vince. Roy gave the mother a quick
once over where she was handcuffed to a stretcher and soon, he 
recruited the remaining cruiser officers to round up the other kids to
go along with them.

"How's Mikey? Don't you take him away from me! The State tried that once,
but I won him back, fair and square.." she challenged. "You just wait,
we'll all be back together before the sun goes down." she told Roy.

"I highly doubt that, ma'am. You see, we found some incriminating evidence
in the house, and signs of child neglect in some rotten food that you left 
sitting out." DeSoto told her as an officer sat down on the treatment bench next to
him. The female officer smiled and held up the crack pipe evidence bag
she had gathered.

The frantic, agitated mother, for all of her earlier noise, fell completely 
silent for the rest of the trip to the hospital.

--------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Dixie met Johnny at the outer doors of Emergency. "Treatment One."
she told him, as Johnny and Vince walked in with the completely head 
covered and blanketed boy in their arms. The filled ambu bag and
drape were being used to make an incubator around him. 

Just as they rounded the corner by the x-ray machine, the boy's stridor 
ceased abruptly.

Gage and Vince, began to run with their burden.

Dr. Brackett saw them coming and he said......

---------------------------------------------------------------------------

Photo: Boy coughing with cyanotic tongue.

Photo:  A crack pipe.

Photo:  Vince entering a house.

Photo: Johnny using a landline.

Photo:  Roy asking questions in a house.

Photo: Brackett and Dixie taking notes at the base station.


**************************************************
Date: Thu, 13 Oct 2005 17:06:24 -0700 (PDT) 
From: "Sam Iam" <lafddispatcher@yahoo.com>   
Subject:  Treatment Doubled.. 


"In here!" Kel motioned for them, holding the door.
"How long ago?" he asked about the change with
the child's lack of effective breathing effort.

Johnny set the small limp boy down on the almost perpendicularly
head raised bed in the brightly lit treatment room that contained
an anesthetist and he tipped back his tiny head gingerly.
"Just now, as we were coming around the corner."

"Help him on that ambu. Long slow ventilations, Johnny.
We'll be set in a moment. Let us know about his responsiveness 
level while you're doing it." Dr. Brackett told him as Dixie and 
another nurse quickly set up a tray of specialized intubation 
equipment for both him and the anesthetist that they had called
to come to Emergency. He nodded to Vince, smiling his thanks, 
when the police officer switched the boy's oxygen tubing 
from the squad's portable D tank, to a flowing port on the wall. 
"Vince, that's right. Set him at fifteen liters. Johnny? Are they working?"

Gage sighed, feeling how the bag sent very careful breaths into the boy
as Dixie cut open the child's shirt so he could see chest movements.
"They're going in well enough, doc. Mikey!..Mikey.. Open your eyes!"
he shouted. "Can you do that for me? Mommy's right outside waiting
for ya!" He tested the boy with a pinch to the back of 
his upper arm behind the elbow. The child pulled away a bit in
a normal reflex. Gage shared what he had found with the doctors. 
"He feels pain somewhat. He's not responding to verbal.
And...he's offering no more attempts to breathe on his own here.
He's too tired."

Dr. Brackett spoke up.
"Fair enough. Keep maintaining him easy. Everyone, maneuver for 
a single portable endolateral neck x-ray, before we even try to directly 
visualize for epiglottitis. If he's positive for it on the film, Bob," Kel told
the anesthetist, "..go ahead and anesthetize with your inhalation anesthetic 
and take a look at the supralaryngeal area using a bronchoscope. My guess
is that he'll tolerate us going in nasotracheally with a tube for an intubation
before he laryngospasms. His fever's not that bad yet. Dixie, after 
he's been airway secured, start an intravenous line of normal saline and 
draw blood for a complete culture for Hemophilus influenzae type b and a CBC..
Also get an antibiotic going once you find out from his chart what his
tolerances are. Ceftriaxone, 75-100 mg/kg via his IV every 12-24 hours."

"Right, Kel." answered the frosty haired nurse crispy. She got busy with
her own tray set up to await the moment when the boy was guaranteed
a good airway. 

The x-ray didn't take long. Five lead aprons protected those who had to 
stay in the room to aid the critically threatened child. Soon, Bob and
Kel gathered around the image under flourescent light. "And there it is, 
Bob. The classic "thumb sign" from Mikey's swollen aryepiglottic folds 
and arytenoid cartilages showing a partial marked upper airway obstruction. 
I'll just bet you're gonna see cherry red supraglottic structures, including the 
epiglottis in a minute, after you tube him."

"No bet." Bob moved immediately to the bed to secure Mikey with an uncuffed 
endotracheal tube after a squirt of Hurricane spray once Johnny had hyperventilated
him on oxygen. Kel nodded for the one orderly in the room to start the boy on 
mechanical ventilation to free up Gage so he could return to available service.

Kel got a few cultures of the epiglottis and throat from Mikey around the tube
using a laryngoscope and he gave them to a nurse to run down to the lab for 
immediate gram negative staining for the illness organism he knew with almost 
one hundred percent certainty, that might be making the child sick.

"Let's move him to intensive care, people. Stat." Brackett ordered.

------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
Joe Early had gotten off the phone with Dr. Brackett. He moved
to the bed that contained Mikey's mother where he had just given
her another vitals check from the quick injection he had given her.

The mother's handcuffs were off, but Vince and his partner stayed in
attendance during the whole conversation to assure Joe's safety while
she burned off the crack's influence. Joe stayed a few feet away
from her while he shared his knowlege. "Your son is out of immediate 
danger, Mrs. Brown. However, epiglottitis is often a multi-event illness. 
During the bacteremic phase of the disease, other foci of 
infection are possible. To give him some rest, his artificial ventilation will
be continued and we'll directly visualize his epiglottis on a daily basis 
until the edema resolves, generally within 24-48 hours. Systemic antibiotics 
will be given to him for approximately 2 weeks to be sure the infection's
completely gone from his bloodstream."

"My boy's on a ventilator?" asked the mother meekily, still bleary eyed
from her smoked drug use. The tension in her manner was growing.

"Yes, but... Peri, being breath supported like that isn't hurting him.
Respiratory isolation for the first 24 hours of antibiotic treatment, is necessary,
so he can recover from whole body exhaustion. His CBC was remarkable for 
a leukocytosis with a marked left shift and the rapid latex particle agglutination 
we got from his blood serum was positive for H. influenzae or, HIB."

"Is... that a bad germ?" asked Peri Brown, hugging her other two children 
nearer to her as they sat on the gurney next to her.

"Only if you're vulnerable, like Mikey was. Epiglottitis caused by HIB has a 
unique distribution in that it typically occurs among children aged 2-7 years."

"You mean my other children...might get sick like little Mikey?" she gasped.

The nurse near Peri, touched her arm to calm her. Peri took her hand gratefully.
"Control measures for invasive H. influenzae type b are very important since 
asymptomatic carriage in the sinuses of household contacts is quite high.
We can stop this illness from spreading in them and in you if you let us."

Joe wore his best white jacket smile. "Chemoprophylaxis with rifampin given 
once daily for 4 days eradicates H. influenzae in approximately 95% of carriers. We 
can do nasopharyngeal cultures on all of you before any treatment. But, 
chemoprophylaxis should be instituted as soon as possible after diagnosis of H. 
influenzae type b is made. It's unfortunate, that this happened to Mikey. But one day, 
I believe a vaccine to prevent H. influenzae disease may be developed. But until then, 
complications associated with epiglottitis including otitis media, adenitis, meningitis, 
pericarditis, and pneumonia, are bound to occur in your other children." Joe admitted, 
"..unless we treat everyone with antibiotic therapy now."

"Treat him. And us." she said quickly, growing scared. 

Peri began to look frantic, fast, so Joe tempered his lecture by adding more.
"The mortality risk for Mikey now is only about one percent because we have 
him airway secured and ventilation supported. And the risk for the rest of you,
now that we know what's going on, is negligible. So relax. Everything's ok."

The oldest boy, Mikey's brother, clinging to his mother to avoid sight of the 
policeman he knew was arresting his mother, spoke up. "You mean my brother 
really has quinsy?"

Joe knelt down by the boy with a look of amazement. "Quinsy? My, I haven't
heard that term in a long, long time. Hello there." he said, taking the young boy's
hand in a handshake. "Yes, Mikey has quinsy, but he's going to be just fine, 
young man. How did you ever come up with that idea for your brother's 
breathing illness?"

"I learned it in school. My teacher said that President George Washington
died of it when he got real old and she said that he had sounded like a
squeaky rabbit when he was in trouble. Like Mikey did before the ambulance
people came."

"That was very perceptive of you." said Joe, tickled. He raised significant eyebrows
for Vince and Nate to note that the children had been exposed to regular school
as a point in Peri, the mother's favor. "Only today, we call what your brother
has, as a peritonsillar abscess, or epiglottitis..instead of quinsy."

The child withdrew his hand shyly, still in awe of seeing a real white
coated doctor.

Peri began to tear up. "C-can I see my boy, before.... before the social
workers come for my kids, doctor?"

"Sure. I'll have a nurse show you the way up to intensive care to sign his
admittance papers. Don't worry, Mrs. Brown. Mikey's going to be over 
this in less than two days, I promise you." Dr. Early said. "The danger
to his life, is past."

"I trust you, doctor. I-It's just that, I don't know if I can trust myself anymore. These
policemen say that I haven't fed my kids in days because of...." she broke off,
rubbing her nose when it started running from her withdrawal symptoms."..my
smoking habits.." she cried.

She took the kleenix the nurse gave her and used it.

"We can help you with your crack addiction, too. The narcan I gave you
only has a temporary effect holding the drug at bay. It's not too late to make
a change, Peri. I can link you up with counselors and doctors 
who can help you break the habit eventually. Would you like that?" 
Joe asked.

Peri Brown nodded and started crying. "Oh, please. Yes.."

"Ok. Let's go see Mikey and afterwards, I'll get you admitted. While 
the police get what information they need out of you, I'll also have 
Dixie McCall, my head nurse, take your children down to the cafeteria 
to get some food."

"I can help with that." volunteered Roy eagerly. "I'm..pretty good with kids."

"Thank you, doctor. Mr. DeSoto. I never meant for my life to get so screwed up.."
Mikey's mother sobbed. "It just sort of happened that way before I even realized 
how bad it was going for my kids. " Peri gave them tearful hugs when Dixie 
suddenly appeared. "Go with the nice nurse and fireman, Davey, Suzy. 
They'll take real good care of you for a while. Mind everything they say.
I'm going to a hospital room upstairs after I see how Mikey's doing so I can 
be treated, too, for smoking the pipe daddy left behind."

The two older children went quietly out the door without a fuss. 

::Hunger's a good behavior modifier.:: thought Joe sadly. But then his 
thoughts brightened. ::There's hope for this family yet. I'll make sure Vince
and Nate know how much this mother tried despite appearances. She
shared a lot with me after she came to.::

-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
 
Photo:  Mother depressed.

Photo:  Joe Early looking kindly.

Photo:  Dr. Brackett and Johnny working in a treatment room.

Photo:  A swollen epiglottis, laryngoscope view.

Photo:  An xray of epiglottitis, endolateral.

Photo: Roy, offering to help in a treatment room.

**************************************************
From :  Monster Moofie <monstermoof4me@comcast.net> 
Sent :  Friday, October 21, 2005 11:09 AM 
Subject :  [EmergencyTheaterLive] A Grey Cloud of Doom Arrives 


Four days later, the ‘A’ shift was back on duty again.  Johnny 
arrived early, in a terrific mood despite the torrential downpour 
outside.  He had taken a long ride in the nearby mountain before 
the rain started, and then spent the rest of his days off working in 
the barn on his ranch.  The date he had told Roy about last shift 
had gone very well, resulting in plans to go riding with the girl the 
next nice day off they had.  In addition, he managed to one up the 
Phantom at his own game by successfully avoiding a water trap in 
his locker and placed a new trap where it was sure to get Chet.  

"Chet must have put this here before he left last shift," Johnny 
remarked to the empty room with a huge grin.  "Won’t he be surprised 
when he gets in today?!"  Johnny gleefully finished getting dressed 
and headed out to the dayroom.  Unfortunately, he met a grey cloud 
of doom as he entered the dayroom.  ::Uh oh.:: Johnny thought.  
::There is only one time of year Roy looks like this.  It must be time 
for the dreaded mother-in-law's visit.::  

Johnny decided to cheerfully greet Roy anyway.  He hoped maybe 
some of his cheerfulness would spread. "Good morning, good morning, 
good morning, gentlemen!" Johnny greeted the guys.  
 
"Good morning?  You’ve got to be kidding, John!"  Roy growled.  "What 
on earth is good about this morning?!  It has been raining since noon, 
our first day off. I’ve had a very lengthy 'honey, do list' to complete. I had 
a flat tire I had to change this morning. I tore my nice jacket in the 
process. AND my mother-in-law will be at my house by the time we get 
off tomorrow.  I can’t think of anything good about today!"  Roy quickly 
stalked off to the locker room to change, swinging the door hard in the 
process.
 
Captain Stanley, Mike, Marco and Johnny watched the door swing in 
shock.  They all knew that Roy got cranky when his mother-in-law was 
coming but this was far worse than usual.
 
"Yikes!" 
"Wow!" 
"Ouch!" came the simultaneous remarks from Cap, Mike and Marco.   

"Please tell me I’m not THAT bad when my mother-in-law is here!" Cap 
added.
 
"I think we’re all going to be walking on eggshells today," Johnny 
said to the guys.
 
Just then, a disgruntled, "Gaaaaggggeeeee!" was heard from the 
locker room.  
 
Johnny grinned and stated, "I do believe the phantom just got 
caught again." He headed over and grabbed the last jelly donut 
and a cup of coffee as the rest of the guys erupted in laughter.
 
"The Phantom will repay his pigeon in triplicate!" a dripping 
Chet stated as he entered the room.  He grabbed a cup of coffee, 
only to have Captain Stanley call them to roll call.  "Drat!  The 
pigeon is REALLY going to pay now!"  Continuing to grumble, 
Chet headed into the bay with the rest of the guys.
 
"No new announcements today," Captain Stanley told them. "Mike,
 you’re on kitchen duty, Chet and Marco, hang the hoses; Johnny, 
you have the dorm.  Roy, sorry pal, the latrine is all yours today.  
‘C’ shift had a pretty busy night and both vehicles need a good 
once over.  Let’s get to work!"
 
Johnny and Roy headed to the squad.  Roy sighed and softly 
said to himself, "Figures, latrine duty today, and on a muddy 
day no less.  What else could possibly make things worse today?"
 
Grabbing the equipment out of the squad, the two paramedics 
performed the morning inventory and calibrations.  

"We need to make a supply run," Johnny informed Roy. "We’re short 
on D5W and MS."

 After informing Captain Stanley that they were headed to Rampart, 
the two headed back to the squad.  Johnny couldn’t resist. 
"Shall I drive today, Roy?"  he asked with a grin.  As he expected, 
he was met with an icy glare.  Roy didn’t respond verbally at all, 
but rather just got into the squad.  Johnny jumped in and Roy drove 
off into the downpour.

----------------------------------------------------------------------------------- 
Entering Rampart, Johnny and Roy headed for the nurses' station.
 
"Good morning, Dix!" Johnny smiled his famous grin at his favorite nurse.

"We’re here to get supplies, Gage, not spend all day chasing nurses!" 
Roy grumpily advised his cheerful partner.  He stalked away, heading 
to the lounge to grab some coffee.
 
"Did someone get up on the wrong side of the bed today?" Dixie 
questioned Roy’s shocked partner as she grabbed the supply list 
from his hand.

"I’ll give you three guesses but I think you can figure it out in only one."
 
Kel and Joe approached the desk, having witnessed Roy’s 
uncharacteristic jab and then Johnny’s statement to Dixie.
 
All three of Rampart’s staff figured out it had to be the annual 
visit of Roy’s mother-in-law.
 
Dixie said, "It’s that time of year already?"

"Yep, I’m afraid so," Johnny confirmed.

"Is it just my imagination or is Roy a whole lot more out of 
sorts from this impending visit than usual?" Dr. Bracket asked.
 
"Yeah, Doc, he does seem to be worse this time," replied the 
puzzled paramedic. "I have no idea why.  Although, he did 
comment he had a bad morning.  Not to mention the weather."
 
"I certainly hope things will improve soon," Dr. Early stated what 
they all were silently hoping, "With both Roy AND the weather!"

"How is the Brown family doing?"  Johnny asked.

"Mikey is much improved," Kel replied.  "We were able to 
remove him from the vent the night before last.  He is doing 
excellent."
 
"The rest of the kids were placed in a good foster home.  Mikey 
will be able to join them when he is released," Joe added. "Peri 
entered an excellent treatment program.  I think when she 
completes it there is hope social services will help them be reunited 
as a family."
 
"I’m glad to hear that, docs!  Maybe that will help take a little 
grump out of my partner." Johnny responded.

"Well, guess I had better not get caught ‘chasing nurses’ now," 
Johnny said with a laugh.  "If you dare, tell that partner of mine 
I’ll be in the squad."

"We don’t get paid enough to put our lives at risk Johnny!"
Dixie smarted off to the departing paramedic.

Momentarily, Roy rejoined Johnny in the squad.  Silence reigned 
as they pulled out of Rampart’s driveway.  ::This is going to be 
an incredibly l-o-n-g day.:: Johnny decided.  

Shortly, they were back to the station and performing their assigned chores.  


----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
For a day the skies decided to downpour on Los Angeles, the tones 
stayed remarkably silent, resulting in a slow, tedious day.  All of the 
guys stayed well away from Roy, not wanting to be in the path of his 
ire.  Even Mike’s famous spaghetti failed to pull Roy out of his funk.  

Much later that afternoon, as Johnny was busy elsewhere, the Phantom 
decided it was time to strike back.  Unfortunately, it resulted in Roy 
falling victim to the attack.  

Chet turned tail and ran as he realized what had happened.  

Roy could only stand there and mutter, "What else could I possibly 
expect today?"  Roy returned from changing his shirt and Cap, the only 
one who dared approach him, said.  "We've decided we would like 
to have those chili dogs for dinner tonight.  I'd like you and Johnny 
to head up and get them now," Captain Stanley commanded.

 "Come on, Johnny let's get this over with," Roy said with a huff.  

They headed out into the rain once more, heading to bring the food 
back to the station.  They had nearly reached the food stand when 
the tones went off. ##Engine 51, Squad 51, Station 36, Truck 110, 
Squad 45; mudslide, multiple cars over the embankment, Hwy 10, 
just south of mile marker 75.  Police and ambulances are 
responding.  Time out 16:55.##

"Wow, I’m glad we are fully supplied," Johnny said as he pulled 
on his helmet.

"Yeah," Roy agreed.

Roy maneuvered the squad past the heavy Friday afternoon traffic.  

Fortunately, the cars, although already backed up more than a mile 
as people headed out of the city for the weekend, managed to get 
over enough for the squad to pass.  

First on the scene, Squad 51 pulled up, parking the squad well away 
from the slide that was blocking off the full width of the three lane 
highway.  The two paramedics pulled on their turnout coats and 
grabbed their gear.  Looking up, they saw the sky showed no signs 
of letting up.  

::If anything, the weather is worsening.:: Roy thought.  ::Sure wish 
I hadn’t wondered what could be worse about today!:: 
 
Multiple cars, unable to move because of the slide and the traffic 
behind them, were stopped in front of the squad.

"Hey, Roy.." Johnny said as he pointed above them, "I really don’t 
like the looks of this mountain.  I think this section could go at any time.  
These cars can’t move yet because of the traffic, but I think we need to 
get the people out of them and back to where they will be safe."
 
"Yeah, I agree, Johnny." Roy responded.  

"Listen up, folks!" Johnny called out.  "We need everyone who is 
between our squad and the slide to please get out of your cars and 
move back behind the squad.  This area isn’t safe for you to stay."  
 
Fortunately, most of the people listened and proceeded as 
Johnny had asked them.  

The paramedics surveyed the cars that they could see off the 
embankment as they walked towards the slide.  The embankment 
was steep, but not a cliff.  As far as fifty feet down the hill they could 
see multiple cars, as well as a few victims that looked like they had 
either been thrown or crawled out.  Another fifty feet below they 
could see the northbound section of Highway 10.

A four door Buick sedan was buried under the debris, a large 
rock on top of the hood and windshield.  Roy reached in and 
confirmed what he feared.  "Johnny, the driver is a code F."  

He continued to check the other cars on the road for any victims.  
Johnny headed back to the squad and grabbed the climbing 
gear they needed.  As he headed back towards the slide, Vince 
drove up and parked by the squad.  He was immediately followed 
by Engine 51.

Cap joined Johnny and surveyed the scene while the engine 
setup for the upcoming rappelling.  They spotted movement just below.  
A muddy woman crawled up the embankment.  Johnny reached out to 
help her back onto the road.

"My car was the last one that went over," the woman said.  "It was 
stopped by the big tree there," she pointed about ten feet down the 
embankment.   "I’m fine.  I just cut my head on the window as I crawled 
out of my car.  The people in the car in front of me didn’t look good.  
I heard someone moaning.  Please, don’t worry about me, go help the 
other people." she implored.
 
Meanwhile, Vince spotted the car containing the code F.  He noted 
the license plate and told Roy, "This car was involved in the kidnapping 
of a five year old girl!  She is still missing!"

----------------------------------------------------------------------------

Photo:  Gage laughing in conspiracy. 

Photo:  A crabby Roy in the squad in helmet. 

Photo:  Chet, getting nailed by a water can in a locker.

Photo:  Gage, talking to Dixie in a hallway.

Photo:  Brackett and Johnny chatting in consternation.

Photo:  Chet, setting up a water trap by Mike Stoker.

Photo:  Multiple cars in a mudslide.

****************************************************************
From :  Cassidy Meyers <killashandrarey@hotmail.com> 
Sent :  Wednesday, October 26, 2005 3:01 PM 
Subject :  Muddy Mire, No Fire.. 


"Vince, there's a ton of people in trouble down there!" Roy said.
"We'll get to her when we can. Could you make sure that any of 
the guy's potential weapons in that car have been disarmed? Last 
thing we need is a firefighter shooting himself later on in the middle 
of doing his body recovery."

Vince nodded, wincing uneasily up at the oozing mountain above the
section of road in front of them. He could see that the cars in the
gully hadn't been in the brunt of the main ongoing mudslide. That
one, was still in progress like a large tongue of slow gooey lava 
in a slate colored river, moving across the highway two hundred 
feet away from the flashing fire trucks. 

Howard could barely see the spots the engine crew had aimed on 
the tangle of cars through the fierce rainfall that wasn't letting up. 
"I'll make sure to check the whole car out as soon as I get this lady 
into the squad car out of the rain."

"Have Stoker check her out a little better and tell him to stay with her
until the ambulance arrives!" Gage said as he and Roy started down
the buried hill already spread knee deep in mud. "Ma'am, go with
the police officer. He'll get you to a safe place and get that cut
on your forehead treated by one of our engine crew. If you start to
feel worse or faint, tell them and either my partner or I will come back
to take a better look at you." he told her over the loud rainfall flooding 
down around them.

The shaken woman was nonplussed. "I meant what I said. I'm o.k.
I wasn't even jarred when my car got shoved off by the slide. Just ignore
me."

Cap had to smile at her tenacity. ::As if he could.:: He stepped forward
to take her shoulders from Johnny's firm grip. "Miss. First things first.
Let's get you dry before you start shivering any harder. Vince here
will get you into some warm blankets and I promise you he'll get the 
heater going. While you're in there, if you remember anything about
victim numbers, tell us using the policeman's handy talkie."

The dripping woman nodded, accepting the 4X4 Mike Stoker starting
pressing gently to her wound to stop the thick bleeding she wasn't yet
aware of. "This way.." Mike told her, and Vince and he led her
away from the area.

Gage was already counting the number of injured people doughed into
the pools of mud around the cars. "...four, five, six.. Roy, none of
them are moving but none of them are face buried at least."

"Points in our favor.. Cap!" Roy called out.

Stanley came back, running from the engine. He had been calling
for another alarm assignment, a heavy equipment crew to handle
the moving mudflow, and another six ambulances.

"I think we're gonna need all the resuscitation gear, drownings
are most likely gonna happen in all this." DeSoto said about
the flooding rain.

"I'm way ahead of you. Marco's getting everything now. Want
a tank to go down with you initially?"

"Yeah." Roy nodded, letting Kelly quickly tie off a lifeline to his
belt from the engine's wench. "Put it in a stokes, we'll drag it
along with us while we check out the victims thrown free of their 
cars. The ones still inside vehicles are gonna haveta wait a while.
They're sheltered at least."

Lopez hustled and guide-roped a bare stokes' head end with fast
knots to the engine's bumper. He got a canvas web sling snapped 
into place along with packages of folded yellow shock sheets for 
when they chose the first person to rescue and extricate. "Here's
the first rigging, guys. I've got four demand valve tank regulators
cracked open and set in here."

Gage and Roy nodded as they studied the hill for the safest way
to slither down it using their lifelines. "Lower it down to us as we go!
We'll signal ya what we find."

Chet returned Roy and Johnny's HTs, wrapped in plastic bags.
"Waterproofed fellas. Go.. We got ya.." he told them as he and Hank
took up their waist ropes.

DeSoto and Gage wasted no more time, slipping deep into triage
mode.

Roy shouted, "I'll take these three!" he said, crawling through
the mud towards the nearest twisted group of victims sticking
out of the muddy morass.

Gage waved to him as he high stepped through the mudflow
down to the lowest cluster of victims that he could see. He
carried a resuscitator with him, from the stokes Marco was
sliding down alongside them. He put an oral airway in between
his teeth as he scrambled, to keep it relatively clean.

Johnny reached the first man and tipped back his head from 
where he lay on his back. He didn't bother with spinal precautions
when he realized the man wasn't breathing, lying as he was,
partially submerged in muck.

He crouched down hopefully over the man's nose and mouth
to see if he started breathing again. He didn't. And a set of
gloved fingers to the neck proved the lack of a pulse, too. ::Dead.::
Gage thought.  He rose up only briefly to his knees in the muck
to give Cap a cut throat gesture about the man in front of him so
Hank would know about his killed status and mark the dead man's
position on his chart for the coroner. He threw an unopened blanket
packet onto the man's chest to show other workers that he had
been assessed as a fatality and then he moved on.

The next woman lay on her side, gurgling weakily. Gage scooped
away water and mud from her nose and mouth and immediately
tipped back her head further until she started gasping in stronger
more relieved breaths. He left a flowing oxygen mask over her face 
to shield out the rain and he used the oral airway he had carried
with him. He decided to leave the first demand valve unit behind 
for the extrication firefighters behind him to find and use on
her later should she need it.

Johnny moved on again, pressing through the mud with his 
hands for the location of another victim to check.

---------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
Roy reached his first victim, a young teenager. The girl immediately 
reacted when he touched her face and head to listen for breathing. She
screamed. DeSoto froze. "Easy, calm down. I'm Roy DeSoto, a Los 
Angeles County fire fighter paramedic. A bunch of my crew behind me are
gonna get you out of here before anything else happens with that hillside up
there, ok? Now tell me, where is this pain of yours coming from?" he 
asked with a gentle smile, wiping away mud and blood from her lips with 
his gloves. 

"My l-legs. I think they're broken!" she sobbed, breathing fast.

"Ok, lie still. I promise I won't bump them again. How's your back or
your neck? Do they hurt anywhere along here?" he asked carefully probing
over and behind her head and on down her spine underneath the mud 
while he held her forehead still.

"No..*gasp* ...no.. Just my legs." she trembled. "Oh, g*d. What happened?"

"Mudslide. We're off the side of the highway about thirty feet down. 
Hold still as you can while I cover you in this sheet to warm you up a bit. 
Some other firemen are on their way down to come stretcher you out 
of here, ok?" and he turned to crawl to the next form lying in the mud.

The girl grabbed the back of his jacket. "You're not leaving me?!" she 
startled in fright. She immediately winced and screamed when her 
shattered legs jolted her. Roy grabbed her shoulders, pulling the sheet 
over her face so the rain would stop drowning her. "I have to. Others 
may be hurt worse than you nearby. I won't be far. And it'll be less than 
five minutes until the next crew gets here to get you out of this mud." he told 
her when he saw that there was no active arterial hemorrhaging happening 
from her broken legs in the water pooling up around the craters their
bodies were leaving in the thickening mud.

The girl's eyes connected with his for a moment as she tried to talk again, but
then she suddenly sagged into unconsciousness underneath his hands.
"Hey.. are you still with me?" Roy shouted, pinching the skin of her neck. 
She didn't wake in the slightest.

DeSoto cross fingered an oral airway into her mouth and left a high flow 
oxygen mask in place once he was assured her breathing continued. 
He raised her head up onto a torn free car door to thwart the rising level
of the mud flowing around her. Then he used his HT. "Cap! This girl first. 
She's real shocky!" he said when his fingers failed to find a pulse lower
than the crook of her elbow.

##Two men from thirty six's are coming down for her. We see you! So far,
Gage's got one alive.## replied Hank from the talkie's speaker.

"She's airway secured. No apparent spinal injuries." Roy told him. 
 
##10-4, pal. They've been notified. Keep going with triage.##

DeSoto crawled away from the teenager, feeling the tug of not wanting
to acutely, dragging another muddy oxygen tank case along behind 
him.

A man called out to him from a filling hole. He was buried up
to the waist in muck. "Hey, fireman! A little help here?"

DeSoto whirled, almost losing his balance and falling in
the mud until he spotted the man. "You hurt at all?"

"Nah, I'm not a driver from one of these buried cars.
I'm a bystander who wanted to actively help instead of
gape like those morons are doing up there. But I was 
stupid enough to get stuck stepping into a hole."

Roy continued to slide his eyes around for his third victim as
he talked. "We'll get you out of there real soon. Just keep
still so you don't sink down any deeper. Grab this rope."
he said, tying one off to a tree over the man's head. "Keep
yourself on top of all this mud. I gotta keep searching here for
other victims."

"I know.." said the muddy man. "Check over by that shrub.
I thought I heard coughing over there a minute ago."

"Over here?" Roy asked the trapped man, spitting out
the rain streaming into his face. 

"Yeah. Sounded like a kid." he replied with a shiver.

Roy found a child eight feet further along under the branches
of a chaparral. He knew he had found Vince's kidnapped girl 
by the way her mouth was taped with her hands tied behind her 
back. 

Giving a cry of instinct that only another parent would understand, 
he pulled the tape off her mouth and listened for signs of respirations 
while he felt for a pulse. He found very weak ones under 
icy cold skin. ::She's hypothermic already.::

He opened the resuscitator case and began using it, fast. The 
oxygen slowly boosted the unconscious little girl's color away 
from cyanotic gray. 

The trapped bystander wanted to know. "Is that person alive?"
he asked, unable to see Roy clearly through the driving rain.

"Yes, thanks for the tip. It was a near thing but I think she's gonna
be ok."

"A woman?"

"No, a little girl. One the police have been looking for."

"Good deal. How about that..." chuckled the man. "I'm stuck,
but I'm a hero, too. Kinda makes feeling like an absolute fool
all worth while."

Roy was relieved enough to laugh along with the well meaning
bystander. Moving her as a unit, DeSoto pulled the little girl into his 
arms and into the warmth of his wrapped overcoat and body heat as 
he stood up with her to meet the extrication crews coming down to meet 
him. "Tell Vince I'm coming up with his kidnap victim! There's two live 
victims down here besides mine. One ok, one unconscious and 
breathing secured."

The roped firefighter team nodded and Roy recognized them as
part of 36's engine crew. They had a stokes between them and
shovels.

"Where are your paramedics?" Roy asked.

"Topside!" they replied. "Waiting for your partner's two victims!
Need help with her?"

"I got him.." shouted Marco, skidding down the hill with a child's
backboard. He set the board on top of a car roof while Roy
kept up ventilations on the girl and strapped her in tightly for
the trip to the road. As a precaution, a rope had been tied to
the head of the board and a fireman from Truck 110 manned it. 
"Roy, how's she doing? She arrested?"

"No. Breathing too slow. I don't think she's hurt badly. She's
just real cold." Roy replied. "Looks like she ran over here from these 
footprints. Probably fell into the mud when she got overtired from 
panicking after she got away from the dead kidnapper's car. 
How's my first victim?"

"Squad 45's already transporting your leg fractured teenager out by 
ambulance. All helicopters are still grounded because of the weather 
at the airport."

"I'm not surprised." DeSoto sighed grimly. "Though we sure
could've used one to spot more slide victims. What does Johnny 
have?" Roy asked, giving the little girl another careful breath on 
the demand valve as Captain Stanley rappelled down the hill 
toward them to aid their climb to the top of the gully.

Lopez tipped a flood of rain off his helmet away from the little girl's
face. "A water drowning and a possible conscious cardiac."

"Anyone spotting any more victims inside of cars?"

"All of the ones we're seeing exposed, are empty."

Soon, they got to the road and quickly to a blasting heater's 
warmth inside of an idling Mayfair.

It had its doors open flush with the doors of Gage's so
the two paramedics could see each other's victims. Medics from
Squad 99 that Cap had called appeared and jumped in to
help them with their four victims which included the first
head wounded eye witness.

DeSoto picked up the biophone while Marco stayed to ventilate
the tiny chilled girl on the small backboard. ##Rampart, this
is Squad 51. How do you read?##

----------------------------------------------------------------------

Photo:   Gage, sitting muddy on a Mayfair bench.

Photo:   Roy, muddy helmet by squad in daylight.

Photo:   A little girl on an EKG.

Photo:   Cap on HT by a muddy hillside.

Photo:    A warm heated interior of a Cadillac ambulance.

Photo:   Close up of a woman getting jaw thrust airway opened.

Photo:   Roy DeSoto in turnout under heavy rain.

Photo:   Two men, stuck neck deep in muddy waters.

*****************************************************************
From: Roxy Dee <laterrapincabesa@yahoo.com> 
Date: Thu Oct 27, 2005  11:54 am 
Subject: Mud Salvage 


Joe Early looked up when he heard the double incoming
transmission buzz begin over the ER base station. He
saw that the red light was flashing urgently in a triple
call rescue pattern.  He turned to Sharon Walters next to him.
"Sharon, looks like we've a multiple casualty rescue
coming in. Go get Dr. Brackett and Miss McCall to help
field these, stat."

"Yes, Doctor." she replied and she hurried off to find them.

Joe entered the room and toggled the first switch on the band.
"This is Rampart Base. Unit calling in, please repeat."

##Rampart, this is Rescue 5-1.##

"Go ahead, 51."

##Rampart, we've four victims of a mudslide involving vehicles.
Trauma isn't grossly apparent but exposure symptoms 
are present to various degrees in all of them.## DeSoto said. 
Then he motioned for his partner to go on ahead with transmitting.

On a separate biophone, 99's, Johnny added his patient info.
##Victim One is a male, approximately fifty five years of age, 
complaining of severe mid substernal chest pain with 
shortness of breath. Conscious on oxygen at 15Lpm. He's
got an irregular pulse by palpation at the wrist.

"Victim Two, is a semi-conscious female, around twenty, fresh water 
near drowning, breathing on her own in good color on O2. Breath
sounds indicate mild pulmonary edema bilaterally with growing 
rhonci. Pulse is regular but mildly tachycardic. Victim Two denies 
any cervical spine or back pain.## 

Roy got a nod from Johnny to take over on their own biophone 
while he stooped to get a set of vital signs on his more urgent 
cardiac case. DeSoto spoke loudly, to be heard over the rain
pounding down on the roof top of the ambulance. 
##Victim Three. Female aged five in protective police custody.
No obvious bleeding but she's moderately hypothermic under 
assisted ventilations. The child is spineboard secured. Note that 
she was in a car that has sustained a traumatic fatality. 

"Victim four. Female. No injuries beyond a largish head laceration 
above the left eye...," Roy added more when Stoker pointed to his 
helmet and waggled iffy fingers at him about the first woman who 
had walked out of the gully...." but noted on her by a firefighter is some 
anterograde amnesia post accident.## He looked away when Mike 
nodded in affirmation at the kind of memory loss she was experiencing.

Joe Early looked up from the fast notes he was taking with
a pencil. ##Go ahead with vitals on Victims One and Three to start.##
he told both paramedics.

Johnny took the airwaves first. ##Victim One. Vitals signs are: Pulse is
arrhythmic at 54. Monitor shows.... a junctional escape rhythm. It has normal 
QRS complexes with inverted P waves, on lead two. BP is 96/50.
Respirations are shallow and rapid at twenty two. Pain is at eight of ten
and is described as building.##

Roy spoke quickly..##Victim Three. Pulse is 46. Respirations 
unassisted are at eight. BP is 60/42. Passive rewarming of her extremities
has begun. Skin is cool to cold, but now dry.  We are attempting to
get a core body temperature. An EKG reading is ready. Non specific 
brady without irregularities..but it is not improving to oxygen and 
ventilations.##

Joe hit the talk switch. ##DeSoto, send your strip by telemetry. Gage,
give me his using the defibrillator paddles to save time.##

Dr. Early got Brackett on the line with Gage's acute MI with
a finger point and a pass off of the feeding strip from him over 
the remote monitor. He also gave the attending his notepage 
on the man.

Kel sized up the findings in seconds. "Johnny, his BP's too low
for nitroglycerin. Give Victim One 325 mg. children's aspirin and start
an I.V. of 5% Dextrose in half normal saline TKO. Give 0.5 mg atropine. 
Also morphine sulfate with 5 mg titrated to obtain pain relief. 
If you gain no resolution of his PJC's after a minute, administer 
Dopamine 10 mgs IVP. We'll try epinephrine and an isoproterenol 
drip only if you begin noting a Type II second degree or third 
degree AV block. Watch for respiratory depression or any further 
signs of deepening hypotension and guard against it aggressively
with positive pressure ventilations and a fluid challenge if 
necessary.##

Gage kicked back the instructions through the phone propped
onto one muddy shoulder, while he spiked the I.V. bag that 
the shivering, moaning man needed. 

Joe advised Roy on his small child. ##Roy, on Victim Three.
Establish an I.V. of lactated Ringer's and infuse at 150 ml/hour.
If despite oxygenation and ventilation, her heart rate falls below 
60 bpm with poor systemic perfusion, give her some epinephrine 
I.V. of 0.01 mg/kg 1:10,000, 0.1 mL/kg. You may repeat every 3 to 5 
minutes at the same dose to a third injection. Add Atropine 0.02 mg/kg 
which you can repeat once if you still don't regain that minimum pulse 
rate. Avoid all rough movement and excessive activity around her. 
Jostling could move chilled acidotic blood around and cause 
ventricular fibrillation. Keep in mind if she arrests, defibrillation and 
anti-dysrhythmia medications should not be used until her core 
temperature has been raised to at least 86° F. 
Monitor her core temperature. Switch to warm, humid oxygen via ambu.
Start active rewarming of both her axilla, trunk, and groin areas
and heat your I.V. fluids to 106°F if at all possible under your conditions.##

"10-4, Rampart." and DeSoto repeated his orders back to
the listening doctor on the other end of his line. "The girl's temperature is
currently 84.2°F and rising." 

Chet Kelly used a spare fire glove that he had thrown onto
the Mayfair's dashboard heat vent to steam as an improvised, insulated 
I.V. pouch. He tested to make sure it wasn't hot enough to melt the 
child's I.V. bag, like one would test a few drops of bottled milk for a 
baby on an inner wrist, and Roy found that he had to smile at that.

----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Dr. Early turned to Kel about his patient. "What do you think?
Bradycardia's a late sign of severe hypoxic deficit in a small 
child. Think the cold saved her from getting brain damaged?"

Kel frowned, studying the countertop. "Depends on how she became
dyspneic in the first place. We won't know a definite outcome 
until we get a true esophageal temperature reading and warm
her up back to normal using aggressive peritoneal, chest tube and 
bladder lavage."

"I was afraid you might say something like that." said Joe.

"I wouldn't tell you anything but the absolute truth in this kind of
matter." Kel replied.  "In your shoes, I'd be hunting for a little 
optimism myself." Then he turned back to the radio. "51, Victim
Two. Go ahead with her vitals set and findings."

------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Gage finished injecting the heart attack victim's medications
as he spoke. ##We've got her head elevated and it's helping
with her shortness of breath. Level of consciousness is improving.
Pulse is 120. EKG remains unremarkable. But respirations are 22 
and mildly labored. Her BP is 100/70. Body core temperature drop is 
negligable at this time. Seems the blankets and all the heaters
running full blast in here are starting to work for her.##

Brackett told Johnny to start an I.V. saline lock as an open window
for future meds and to give the woman a dose of Albuterol to ease her 
bronchospasming. ##Dirt and debris might be the cause of some
of her difficulty, Johnny. Guard against further aspirations and keep
treating for shock.##

Joe handled the last victim after he got vital sign details. 
##Roy, check her neurological status and watch for other signs 
of mental deterioration with that possible head injury. Immobilize her
head and neck and place her onto a longboard with her head raised
just as a precaution. Start her on O2 and check her blood glucose.
It may be that exertion under these frigid conditions have caused
a little hypoglycemic imbalance in her bloodstream.##

"10-4, Rampart. Squad 99 is riding with us in assistance." replied DeSoto.

Brackett wrapped up their treatment call. ##Both of you, survey
all victims head to toe for other hidden problems you haven't
noted yet. Keep everybody warm and dry and continually monitor
their vital signs every five minutes.  Keep ventilating those with 
airways in place with warmed humidified oxygen. Transport 
as soon as possible. What's your ETA, 51 and 99?##

"Fifteen minutes max for both ambulances. All air support has 
been grounded by storms." said one of 99's paramedics using
his HT on the biocom frequency.

##10-4.## Brackett replied. ##We'll be waiting.##

Dixie McCall picked up all the care notes the doctors had started,
leaving only two blank supplemental sheets for them to add on to
as they stayed inside the base station alcove to monitor the
rescue squads progress to the hospital. "I'll get treatment rooms
two through four set for everybody. I've already gave Morton a
heads up. He's on lunch. And I've notified a pediatric neurologist
about our hypothermia case." she told them.

"Efficient as usual. Thanks, Dixie." said Joe. "Have you heard an ETA
on Squad 45's victim with the bilateral tib/fib fractures?"

"She's here and has already been anesthetized for an emergency 
exploratory. Dr. Weathers planned ahead of time that he wouldn't 
disturb you boys while you dealt with the multiple casualty call. And
before you ask how you never heard anything on them while they 
rushed in here,..he handled her radio traffic from security dispatch."
Dixie told them with a gracious head incline.

Dr. Brackett grinned ruefully. "That was ingenuous. Saved us a bit of
noisy confusion in here. I hate it when we've got more than two calls
running at the same time. This room's too small for comfort or 
concentration's sake."

"That's what he figured." Dixie demurred. "I'd better go get things
set up asap. We're gonna need a lot of hot water along with all
the warming measures equipment." And she left the two doctors 
behind to mull over plans of attack for their latest mudslide cases.

------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- 

Photo:   A junctional complex cardiac rhythm.

Photo:  A pair of fire department rescue squads.

Photo:  Closeup of an ambu bag being used.

Photo:  Roy DeSoto carrying a small child.

Photo:  Paramedics loading victims onto a Mayfair.

Photo:  Dixie and Joe taking run notes at Rampart's base.

Photo:  Roy and Johnny treating many people down.

**************************************************
From :  patti keiper <pattik1@hotmail.com> 
Sent :  Thursday, October 27, 2005 9:02 PM 
Subject :  The Dogging Emergency.... 


Captain Stanley watched Squad 99 treat patients 
alongside his men until he knew it was time to move 
all four ambulances out. He had just wrapped up the last
victim in blankets when Squad 36's paramedics came 
out of the gloom.

"Do they need us?" one of them asked him.

He shook his head. "How's your new man?"

"You mean the less than smart guy who piled on down
the hill to try and play the hero?"

"Yeah."

"He's got a sprained ankle. Refused transportation." answered
the second taller medic.

"Well, he's gotta save face somehow. Can blame him too much
for beating a hasty retreat. He can still smile plenty for finding that 
little girl for us over a nice hot dinner cooked by his adoring wife."
Hank quipped.

The two from 36's chuckled. "Any more victims, captain?"

"Nah. 99's engine crew says no more are being found on top of this 
stuff. You can stick around if you like, just in case." Stanley kidded.

"We're gonna have to. Our captain's the tenacious type. He won't 
let us leave until every inch of that slide's been probed and checked.
Think about us when you're showering up in a half hour and count
your blessings that yours was the first station on scene, okay?"

"There's always next time. You know how it works. The medically
treating station gets to leave when their squad leaves while transporting
victims."

"We do. Won't be so slow next time. Just you watch. Second arrival 
search duty's gonna be yours. Count on it." they promised without sting.
"And we'll be sure to make it during a frosty night in the mountains on
brush detail." they laughed good naturedly as they returned back 
the way they had come with their gear boxes.
 
Captain Stanley winced in sympathy. "Stay warm, fellas." He drew out
his HT. "Engine 51, L.A., Station 51 out one half hour."

##Station 51. *Spap*##

"Come on, gang. Let's wrap up our end and clear out of all this rain.
I swear my socks are shrinking." Hank told Marco, Kelly and Stoker.

The three soaked and muddy firemen left for the engine with 
absolutely zero prodding. Just the idea of slide clean up made their
upcoming station vehicles wash detail seem like a cakewalk.

--------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
Johnny Gage walked out of the hospital staff locker room in
fairly dry clothes. He was carrying the resuscitator rack from the
squad that they had been using on the little kidnapped girl.

He leaned into Vince, who was seated in a chair outside of her treatment 
room awaiting the arrival of her anxious parents. "She's doing a whole
heck of a lot better. So don't think you'll have a corpse anytime soon
on your hands. Roy and I have a pact not to lose any kids at least until 
spring."

Vince visibly brightened. "Really fellas? She's ok? She looked like she
was dying when you rushed her in there." he said, hooking a thumb
over the dry mud on his black uniformed shoulder.

"Kids turn blue when they're cold." Roy shrugged. "The EEG looked 
normal to Dr. Early and so did all of her motor and nervous responses.
She's even breathing on her own now with a temp of 94." he celebrated.
"Now that's a fast rewarming trend."

"I'll take your word for it." Vince said. "She talking yet?"

Gage shook his head. "She's still too busy shivering. I'd wait
a while to get a statement from her about her kidnapper. Maybe
ten minutes more. Besides, you'll have to go through Dixie to get
to her for that one on one investigation, and she won't allow that
until her body temperature's regained normal levels."

"Thanks, guys. See you later." the police officer told them.

"Any time." they replied.

Roy exited the ambulance emergency room entrance doors 
before he started stamping some of the dried clods of mud off of
his pants and jacket. Gage, took things a little further. He wandered
out from under the hospital roof's overhang until he was getting
deluged by the rain again.  He even took off his overcoat
and laid it over the hood of the squad to be scoured. Then he
pinwheeled around, taking his helmet off, letting the water soak
his uniform clear through. DeSoto chided him. "What are you
doing?"

"I'm getting showered off. Geesh. Can't a man get clean using novel 
ways without getting the third degree from his partner? Better the mud
gets off into the parking lot than in the squad, don't you agree?"

"The squad doesn't have to listen to you in a couple of days when
you catch a bad cold and piss and moan about every gory symptom."
DeSoto complained.

Gage made a face. "Thinking about your mother in law already?"
he deflected.

"No, I'm not." he lied. Then, "Yes, I am. Seems the kids and Joanne
have natural immunity to her while I don't. Johnny, having her with
us for a whole weekend's gonna be pure h*ll I tell you. She really
gets under my skin.."

"Like this rain's doing?" Johnny joked.

Roy just glared at him, wrapping his turnout a little tighter around
himself even as he hunched down inside of it to keep the cascading
water from running down his back underneath the collar.

"Maybe we'll get real busy and get a big fire or something  that'll 
take two days to knock down."

"Fat chance! I know how my luck works. We always get real quiet
at the station when Sylvia's here."

"Sylvia?" Gage laughed, taking off a sock and wringing it out around
one of the squad mirror's posts. "That's your mother in law's 
name? No wonder you hate her so much.."

Roy clamped his mouth tight, controlling his temper as he got
into the squad and slammed the driver's door. The impact made
Gage lose his grip on his rain laundered sock and it flipped off
the mirror rung and down onto the river running asphalt.

Thinking the clear watering concrete made a good washboard,
Johnny took off his other sock and began scrubbing it into the street
with both of his bare feet. "Here, Roy." he said, tapping his now dripping, 
but squeaky clean shoes against his window until DeSoto grumpily opened
it and grabbed them from his hands. "Thanks. I'll be done in a minute.
Then we can go grab some take out for dinner."

"What makes you think I feel like eating anything?" demanded Roy.
"I'm a big guy. My digestion takes longer than yours to finish up
a meal."

Right then, DeSoto's stomach growled. Big time. DeSoto froze
in place. Not moving his hands off their irritated grip on the
steering wheel, DeSoto tried not to look away from Johnny's 
suspecting eyes. Roy fiercely hoped that his partner couldn't hear 
the rumbling sounds that had the potential to betray what his lips
had just said. 

"That does." Gage said deadpan, shaking rain water out of his hair
like a dog. "Paramedic hearing's a b*tch, isn't it?"

Roy grunted in sheer exasperation and immediately 
rolled up the window, muttering epithets that would've curled Dixie's
hair if she had been listening into the conversation just then.

Gage knuckled the glass in a couple of raps, undeterred by the physical
weather or the storm coming from his long time paramedic partner.
"We'll stop by Dave's Dogs again, ok? It's the closest." he grinned in 
high amusement. "Last thing I need is you passing out behind the wheel 
from acute hunger." 

There was no reply from the shadowed figure behind the steaming window.

::Big guys don't need to eat so often my a@%.:: Johnny thought with amusement.
Then he turned to slapping his soggy turnout against a fender rhythmically
to rid it of all of its now water thinning mud.

---------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

The sun made a grand appearance just as the still light brown mud
caked and dripping squad squealed up alongside the curb that somebody
had painted in festive colors that complemented Johnny's favorite chili 
dog stand.

Roy hadn't even turned off the ignition when the agitated Mac made a hasty
appearance to ward them away from his flaking, pastel painted picnic tables.

"Oh, no. You're not sitting on my seats, guys. Not like that. Not in a million years.
I don't have to accept business from any customer who isn't one hundred
percent publicly presentable. So get away from here before you get
mud all over the place."

Gage smacked Mac against his chest with an expressive hand.
"Oh why not? We're following your sign's instructions to the letter. See? We've
got shoes. And...we've got shirts. So give us some service. We're hungry
again.."

And with that, both paramedics firmly sat down at the nearest picnic table
and pulled out a set of laminated menus from behind the ketchup squeeze
bottle and the tiny chrome paper napkin holder.

Mac wiped the sweat off of his brow around the foldout paper hat he wore
on his head to appease the health department and licked his lips nervously,
as several of his regular businessmen customers started giving the
two filthy firemen looks of consternation and disgust. "I'm fresh out.
I got my eldest boy making a grocery run for more hot dog buns.."

"Fresh out, huh? Then what'didya call those hanging right there off your
roof overhang? Hallucinations?" Gage pointed.

A cluster of still freshly sealed bun bags hanging like cotton candy at
a carnival, swayed in the bright sunlight, glinting a little.

Mac went ballastic. "Listen guys, let me be a little forward here. You're
very bad for business. I mean, you pay good and tip well and all. But you're
still bad for business. The plain clothes cops that normally keep kids from
stealing the pickles outta my dill barrel disappear everytime you show up 
because you're so conspicuous and draw too much attention to them while
they're undercover working on my case."

Even Roy had to gape at that fact. "You hired a couple of detectives to
try and bust school aged pick pockets?"

"Well, yeah." said Mac defensively. "Do you know how much it costs to
get a pickle barrel delivered these days?  Eighteen dollars a barrel!"

A businessman that the hotdog stand owner hadn't seen arrive at
the ordering window, bellowed. "Hey, Mac. Are you gonna chew the fat
with those sparkies my whole lunch hour? I want to get my order in before
my hair turns gray!"

A couple of young mothers with babies in strollers, who were going to 
stop for some food from the stand changed their mind when they heard
the loud business executive's very audible complaint. They left
quickly with more than a little nervousness.

Mac immediately poured more sweat and his agitation grew by tenfold. "Ah, 
sorry, Ben. I'm coming. I'll be right there." Then he spied the departing
moms. "Ladies! Ladies. Do come back. It was just the tiniest of misunderstandings."

But they didn't return. 

Mac's anger, barely suppressed, grew and he gasped with barely contained
rage as he made his regular's order as fast as he could make it.

The change from a dollar bill he normally got to keep, was taken away
and Ben stormed off in a huff of affront.

Mac's glower sharpened and he began to breathe even faster.

Gage and Roy, oblivious to the ruckus they were creating, were deep
in their plans for an opulent supper off their menus.

Johnny's hand snapped the air over the top of one of them. "Mac?
Uh, say Mac. Looks like you're through there. Can we order now?
My partner's famished and so am I, finally. Nothing like a good rescue
to build up an appetite."

"What makes you think I'm gonna do anything for--?!" Suddenly,
Mac doubled over the counter, grabbing his chest and he started
panting for air rapidly.

Roy and Johnny's heads shot up at the sound and they dropped
their menus, making a beeline for the small door at the side of
the small stand. "Mac? Are you all right?!" Roy asked loudly
as they hurried over.

Gage went to Mac and held up his shoulders. "Mac? What's the 
problem? Is it your chest?" he said, leaning the owner against
the window frame while he felt for a wrist pulse. Johnny saw
that his breathing was very labored. "Now don't fall over
onto the grill here. Roy's coming in to get you and help you
outta there asap. Easy.."

"Can't......breathe.."

"I can see that." said Johnny. "Just hold on. Now put your arm
over Roy's shoulder and come out with him. Let him do all the 
work. He can hold your weight and then some."

"Ahh, why can't ...I ......breathe?" panicked Mac. 

Gage let go of Mac and met them at the tiny door. The two 
paramedics sat the pale, sweating hot dog man down
at a basket and garbage strewn picnic table.

Johnny looked up at a transfixed secretary at the same table
who had stopped chewing her lunch at the sight. "Ma'am. Do 
me a favor and go to that squad over there. Reach in 
for a radio lying on the seat. I need my walkie talkie to get 
some fast help for this man. Can you do that?"

"Uh, sure." she said, wiping her mouth free of mustard self
consciously. She slowly rose to go get it, yanking off the napkin
that she had tucked in around her neck.

She clattered away on stiletto heels.

Roy and Johnny both crouched over Mac, loosening his
clothing and apron from around his waist and neck. One
of them took his paper hat off, too.

"Mac,.." asked DeSoto. "Do you have any history of heart
trouble? Are you feeling any kind of chest pain right now?"

"Heart trouble?!" startled Mac, still gasping in huge lungfuls.
"Is that what's wrong with me? Oh, no...*choke* I'm gonna die..."

Gage placed both hands on Mac's shoulders. "Now, Mac. Mac.
Listen to me. We don't know anything yet. That's what
we're trying to learn about by taking a look at ya. 
Just take it easy and try to calm down a little. Getting excited's
only gonna make you feel a lot worse when you don't have to."

Mac nodded in resignation, and he began trembling. Especially
when he saw that both paramedics were opening up his shirt in
preparation for an EKG reading.

"Tell us about what kinds of things you're feeling right now." 
Gage commanded. "Roy, how about some oxygen?" 
he asked softly, thinking about possible symptoms.

"Yep. I'll get the biophone, too, among other things." he
hinted about a defibrillator and the drug box.

Mac totally missed the interplay. "My... mouth's...all numb.
And.. my fingers and toes are tingling.." he admitted, while
Johnny took his pulse again at the wrist. 

Gage looked up in discovery at that. Then he began smiling,
but just to himself, very slightly, and his natural paramedic's guard
completely lowered to the ground. "Feels like you're suffocating, huh?
Like you're not getting enough air?"

"And how. Please. H- Help me. I'll do anyth-- anything you ask.
Just.. don't let me die. I love my life.." pleaded the breathless Mac.
"I'm a real healthy man. I don't smoke. I don't drink. My blood pressure's
always been good. So's my cholesterol according to my family doctor.
I don't even get colds like other folks do." he muttered, panting.
"In fact, I don't remember the last time I had even so much as a sniffle."

Gage took a respiration count, and his smile suddenly got bigger.
But he quickly suppressed it when Mac looked up at him in distress
as he was examined.

Roy returned, setting down their medical equipment just as the
bystander came back with their plastic coated, muddy walkie talkie.
"Thanks. " he told her as he took it from her hand.

The woman retreated, wiping the slimy mud off her hand with
an ample clump of napkins. 

Roy crouched down and got out an oxygen mask from the resuscitator.
A clear, plastic one on full flow. He started to string it out from the regulator
to put on Mac's face, when Johnny's hand stopped his from doing it.
DeSoto's face frowned in puzzlement until Johnny starting speaking.
"Mac, I think I know what your problem is. I think you're 
suffering from acute hypocapnia syndrome. Roy, do you concur?"
he asked his partner. Then he winked at DeSoto. On the side that
Mac couldn't see. ::Go along with this.:: it said.

Roy blinked. Three times. "Uh,...whaa.. ahhhhh...yeah?" he guessed. 
Then he set aside the HT he had snatched up, back onto the table. 
Without saying anything, he studied and soon found what Johnny 
had found on Mac. But there was one tiny little question still floating
on the tip of his tongue. "Johnny, why are you doing th---?"

Mac was beside himself. "I need oxygen,..guys. Help me!" he begged
in genuine panic.

Gage played their sudden ace to the hilt. "Ok, just relax. And let me
get this on you here. Roy's gonna get a blood pressure off ya."

Johnny turned the flow on the regulator to twenty five liters a minute,
the top aperature, and then he put the mask onto Mac.

Roy's eyes got real big and he bit his lip and he began hiding a smile 
when he finally put two and two together about what his crazy partner was
up to.  Narrowing his eyes, he took that BP. But he also put a steadying 
grip on Mac for the dizziness he knew was going to strike from an 
overabundance of 02 into Mac's system. "I've got.....132/86."

Johnny did, too, on his other side.

It didn't take long. Mac soon swayed in his seat, feeling faint.
"Oh,. This is it.. I'm......dying. Oh, mama. I'm sorry. I wanted to tell
you how much I really love you. But I didn't know I was gonna kick
the big one today..." he mumbled.

Gage leaned into his ear. "Mac. Mac... Can you still hear me? 
Is it true you'll do anything if we save your life?"

"Yes... yes! I don't wanna die.. Not yet... I'm sorry if I made you feel
unwelcome. I just wanted to stop losing busin---* gasp!*" And his
eyes got real big in the precursors of a blackout.

"Anything at all?" Gage plugged, holding the oxygen mask and Mac's
shoulders.

"....anything..." whispered the terrified hot dog stand owner.

"How about a whole year's worth of free chili dogs for both me and my
partner and the rest of our gang, always delivered...with a smile?" 
Gage said, dropping the clincher.

Mac nodded yes, and promptly passed out into their arms.

DeSoto and Gage were ready for that and caught him. They lowered
him to the paper and french fry strewn pavement and they placed Mac
onto his back. Johnny left the oxygen mask on Mac's face and his other 
hand deftly shut off the flow of gas to it. Moisture from condensation 
began to steam solidly around the fainted man's nose and mouth.

Roy couldn't hold himself back anymore while he tipped back Mac's
head so he could breathe a little better with a patent airway. "Johnny,
that was pure evil and completely dirty handed."

"So.... A little humility's good for the soul. Especially a meesly money
grubbing hot dog stand owner's. We didn't do this to him. He brought it
on all by himself...by being so..." he broke off, searching for the right
words to explain what he meant....."so..prejudiced against guys like us
and what we do for our daily living.  A little hyperventilation faint has 
never hurt anybody, and you know it. After all, anyone in one is about
as far away from incurring ischemic brain damage, as one can possibly 
get." Then he nudged Roy's shoulder."Just look at what this one eensy weeny 
little blackout will get us, Roy. Think about it!  Finally, firemen will have some 
place to eat for free like every cop does everywhere else, just because 
of the nature of the job he holds. Now, that.. is delivering sheer poetic 
justice for once, wouldn't you agree?"

"At the expense of someone else's pain and suffering?" Roy challenged. 
But he was starting to grin the precursors of 'I-like-it.' even while 
he chided his second half firmly.

Johnny was unphased by the berating. "Sure, partner. This didn't hurt 
Mac one iota. We're still doing our jobs like he asked us to do, Roy.
We're still helping him out by the fire department book. This other tactic,
it's....well,.....call it a little free attitude adjustment if you will."

"I don't think Mac's the one who actually needs it." Roy mumbled.

Johnny looked up from the pulse he was monitoring on Mac. "Huh?"

"Nothing. You better make sure that Mac here doesn't have something
truly wrong with him to cover our butts."

"WAYYy... ahead of you." said, Gage, flipping open the EKG monitor. He
stuck on the pads with a flourish and wired Mac in. He flipped on
the machine to audible and turned up the volume to the loudest
gain so that it would start to work on waking Mac up.

Roy appeased the last of his concern for Mac's well being by
studying the rhythm flowing across the screen. 

It was entirely unadulterated NSR. 

DeSoto grunted. "You got lucky. You weren't wrong this time."

"I'm never wrong."

"Uh huh..." Roy grinned. "Now that you've had your fun? What's next?"

"This..." Gage said, scooping up the paddles just as Mac groaned
and awoke as his blood's carbon dioxide levels normalized. He placed
them onto Mac's bare chest and held them there after he made sure
the machine was completely, uncharged.

Roy bit his lip, fighting to keep a straight face while Gage completed
a scheme worthy of the best Chet Kelly could ever possibly dream up.

He looked away and pretended to fiddle with the now turned off oxygen
supply so he wouldn't spoil it.

"Mac! Mac!" Johnny shouted as he held the paddles down firmly onto
the man's chest. "Can you hear me now?!"

Mac opened his eyes blearily and startled when he saw what Johnny
was doing. "Ackhh!" he shouted, shoving them off his chest. "Get those
things off of me!  I'm fine now." He also pulled the non flowing oxygen
mask off of his face and started to struggle to his feet, peeling off
the EKG pads eagerly. His face was a mask of sheer embarrassment
but now, a little gratitude, mixed in.

"Are you sure?" Gage asked, throwing the paddles back into 
their case. He genteely helped Mac return to sitting on the
picnic table bench.

Mac winced for each tacky sticker he yanked off his chest
that pulled out some chest hair.

Yank!
"Ow.."

Yank! 
"Ouch! Yes, G*d d*mn it!"

Roy's back started jiggling as he tried to keep his uncontrollable
giggles completely hidden. He decided to occupy himself
by putting away all the rescue gear.

Gage started to button the buttons up Mac's shirt again, one 
by one."You're a very lucky man, Mac, that we decided to have
dinner with you. We almost didn't come here because
we wanted to shower off so bad."

"Oh, yeah?" grinned Mac sheepishly. He was a completely
different man now. "I wanna thank ya fellas. You saved my
life. Do you have an address where I can pay the bill?"

Johnny held up his hand in negation and he smiled craftily.
"What bill, Mac? We didn't transport you to the hospital
in the ambulance. No ride? No bill. That's how it works with
all of us paramedic types. "

Mac beamed up at Gage with tears in his eyes. "Gratitude
works, too. And I still remember my promise to you both..
I mean, about feeding ya lunches for a year."

Gage demurred. "Aw, Mac. You don't have to do that."

"Yes, I do. A deal's a deal. From a grateful businessman
to a fireman, even if he is a little muddy around the edges."

And then Mac stuck out his hand.

Roy stayed in the truck, containing near guffaws. Just barely.

"Ok, I can't argue with you. I promise we won't come everyday,
all right?" Johnny told him, taking the palm offered to him in a 
returning grasp.

"Ok." said Mac, feeling like he had a whole new lease on life.
He got up and started to clean up his stand and surrounding
picnic tables, with new energy.

Johnny got into the squad and closed the door behind himself
with complete and utter satisfaction. "There ends the war, of all wars.
I do believe Johnny Gage has declared a truce on that particular
hot dog stand."

Roy grinned as his tone belied the further beratement he 
wanted to deliver. "I still think that little stunt was evil."

"You won't be saying that later on when the whole station's filling
up on those wonderful chili dogs every week." Johnny said, lacing
contended fingers behind his head.

Roy started up the ignition but then paused as he jerked the squad out
of park. "Does this mean that Mac now has to feed every shift? Or just
ours?"

Johnny's satisfied smirk fell into one of instant dismay. 

------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Photo:   Roy and Johnny discussing a sensitive matter 
              outside by the squad. 

Photo:   Roy looking incredulous.

Photo:   Johnny looking down at a victim in the sun in turnout.

Photo:    Johnny fake defibrillating a man on a sidewalk.

Photo:    DeSoto and Gage treating a possible cardiac.

************************************************************************
From: "Cory Anda" <andacory@hotmail.com> 
Date: Fri Oct 28, 2005  5:52 pm 
Subject: Feigning Grace.. 


The gang was bored.....again.

There had been no calls for six hours since the big mudslide.

And it was looking more and more likely that Roy was going
to have to go home for the weekend to spend it with his
wife and kids ....and with Sylvia, Roy's mother in law.

Gage was currently bragging about how they had pulled the
wool over Mac's eyes to the others, but only Chet Kelly
seemed to enjoy the tale thoroughly.

"Just feel lucky that Mac didn't press charges of malfeasance,
Johnny." Cap said sharply. "He could've you know. There's
a state law that says anyone who suffers unconsciousness has
to be evaluated by a physician if at all possible on a paramedic
run."

"That's only If, Cap. If...they give you permission. Mac directly refused.
All right, ok.. not verbally mind you,.. but he sure pulled off those
patches and that oxygen mask fast enough." he chuckled.

Kelly gave him a high five in admiration for carrying off such a
gem stunt. Then he said. "I'm gonna go shower fellas."

"Again?" Cap groaned.

"Yeah, why not? I'm still spitting out sand here from between
my teeth.." Kelly exclaimed back. "Excuse me while I go freshen
up. Geesh.. What a grouch.."

"He's only hungry." Johnny explained to Chet's retreating back.
"I think Cap's kinda crazy for not going down to the dog stand for
a free weiner."

"I'm not going to go there to eat because it's not right, Gage. Not
after you pulled off that kind of thing."

Gage just grinned and spun a quarter into a spin on the table
some more, absently humming to himself while he downed milk
from a carton.

"I wouldn't celebrate so hard, Johnny. It's always easy to get
into trouble when you start to criticize and judge people while treating
them with less than the respect you normally would, just because
they're a little different than you. So don't begin to view them in
such a shallow light, Johnny. You'll only regret it in the long run."
Roy said gently.

"Says who? Chet seems none the worse for wear for his pranks.
Watch." and he held up two fingers to his mouth so he could deliver
a sharp piercing whistle. It was so loud, an echo of it returned to them 
from out of the vehicle bay. "Hey Kelly! Get back in here. I wanna
talk to ya for a minute."

DeSoto just sighed and buried his nose into the stock pages.

Kelly jogged back into the kitchen and barely managed to hide
the tools that he had been using to wire up another water can in
one of the toilet stalls for Gage to find, into his back pocket.
"What now, Gage? I'm a little busy. I wanna get clean.."

"I'm through, Chet. No more wars. Concluding the one between
Mac and I, got me to wondering.... about whether or not the two of
us, should do the same.."

Chet immediately squinted and angled his head suspiciously.
"Roy, did he crack his head working on any of those slide victims
earlier today?"

"Nope." DeSoto replied, still reading. "He's injury free, Chet."
he yawned. "Today.." he glared back from over a newspage.

"And I'll stay that way. I promise, guys. And that includes not
getting any more bruises from unexpected flying water bombs.
Chet.." he shot back at Kelly. "So this, I vow. It's over. No rubber
chickens, no more short sheeting the bed. No dresses on CPR
manikins, or touchy mousetraps....nothing...ever.....again." Gage
told Chet mildly with conviction. "Starting......now."

"Well, what about this Phantom thing of ours?" Chet asked, shifting
uncomfortably onto his other foot. "I mean, things were just getting
good.."

"Didn't you get soaked enough in all that rain earlier on?" Johnny
frowned at him.

"Well, yeah. That's different. One's water from a cloud, the other's
water from a c---"

Johnny halted the very words out of Chet's lips when he held up his
right hand in a native american benediction over the middle of his
forehead. "I swear on the grave of my forefathers to never play another
prank on Chet Kelly, ever again."

The genuine solemnity of his voice gave chills to the rest of the gang
and they all stopped whatever leisure activity they had been partaking
in at that particular moment.

Chet just slowly turned around and left the room, affording Johnny
a sidelong glance back at him every once in a while.

"It's a start.." Roy said without looking up from his reading.


A few seconds later, Kelly peeked back through the door to
look at Johnny suspiciously, who was still holding his prayer
summoning hand up in the way of his people with his eyes closed.
He spoke again. "You're staying one hundred percent dry from
now on, Chet, so you mark my words. Hear it again from me.
It's overrrrrrrr.."

The face in the door disappeared.

Peace reigned once more over the warm kitchen....until....

##Station 51. Possible suicide attempt. 6101 Sharon Road.
6101 Sharon Road. Cross street Benedict. Time out 17:55##

The gang dropped everything and ran for the trucks.

------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------ 
The rain, had returned, with strength. It was so dark and the way
ahead so obscured, that Johnny had to remark on it. "I sure hope
you know where you're going, Roy, because I sure don't."

"I do. Sharon Road's a street one of my daughter's best friends
lives on. In fact, the house we're going to just may be a neighbor
friend of hers. We'll be there in four minutes."

"What do you think we got?"

"Someone who's very unhappy.." DeSoto said. "Suiciders
always seem to be that way when they start trying to kill themselves."

-----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
offstory-

The following rescue call was based on the true life experience of EMT,
"Roger Stuart" <rstuart@swfla.rr.com>

Thank you, Roger, for such a realistic, true case. You are truly an asset to
the EMS field. I can tell by the way you handled this boy.


Onstory-


Soon, the engine and squad pulled up at the house. Stanley
was relieved that the cops had preceded them, assuring scene
safety.

The gang entered the house on the invite of a crying mother.
"It's Michael.. Please, he's on the couch..." she sobbed. "He's
taken his grandmother's heart medication.."

Johnny motioned for Stoker to place the resuscitator by the
young teenager's head while he knelt beside him. "Michael,
Michael! Can you hear me?" he said, feeling for a wrist pulse
with his own arm draped also over the boy's stomach. "He's
breathing.." he told the others. "Normal so far."

Then Johnny moved to further test Michael's awareness level.
He rubbed a knuckle into his breastbone. The boy groaned
and purposefully shoved away Gage's hand, but his eyes
never opened.

"Huh..." Gage thought. ::That groan is a very good sign for
someone in such serious trouble..:: He bent to take a
blood pressure while Captain Stanley got an oxygen mask
set and flowing for him to grab later on, if necessary.

Michael's mother was sobbing to the police officer in the room
with them. "I can't understand why my son would ever do such a
thing. He's a good boy. Please...*sob* Is he going to survive this?"

"Ma'am, we're going to do everything in our power to make sure
he does that. Ok?" Johnny told her. "Why don't you sit down in this
chair over here. I promise we'll tell you absolutely everything
that we're doing for Michael as we're doing it. Marco, can you
come guide her over there?"

"Yep." and Lopez did.

"Thanks."

Roy stood quietly by, while his partner worked, since the teenager's
status was nowhere near a crisis point yet. He took a closer
look at the lamp stand near the boy's head.

The first thing he noticed, was that the grandmother's
prescription bottle, laying on the table, was turned onto its side
in plain sight amid recently used kleenix tissues and a T.V. guide,
with the cap screwed on crooked.

::Well, that explains things.:: Roy thought to himself.

He glanced at the boy's closed eyelids and saw both eyeballs
moving randomly under the lids.

::He's a very aware supposed unconscious. I'll just bet
this pill bottle arrangement is a purposeful sign of a staged 
suicide attempt.::

DeSoto counted the pills and about eight were missing from the
number count on the bottle. The prescription had just been filled two
days before and the drug on the bottle was labelled "Furosemide",
better known as "Lasix".

Roy then knew with little doubt that Michael was faking it. :: I can't think
of a worse way of dying than p*ssing yourself to death on water pills!::

So, DeSoto leaned over the kid and palpated his lower abdomen. Sure
enough, his bladder was as tight as a drum. He knew that Johnny was buying
into the dramatic tension oozing from the mother, thinking the worst, and
that had caused him to go deep into paramedic mode. ::He's thinking more
about the ALS equipment than the findings.:: Roy thought. ::I think I better
set him straight before he does any unnecessary biophone calling.::

Within ear shot of his partner, Roy whispered to the kid.
"What you took are water pills. If I press right here any harder, you're
going to pee in your pants."

That caught Johnny's full attention.

Roy went on, still keeping his voice down as Gage opened
the teenager's eyes to check them with his penlight. "Michael, we
have to assume that you are critical and know that my partner and I
will do whatever it takes to save your life, unless you can tell us
differently."

Now Johnny realized that his patient needed to drain his bladder in
the worst way and Roy couldn't resist the temptation to make a
faker tell the truth, so he continued and said to Michael a few more
things. "That means we will have to stick needles in your veins, shove
tubes up your nose, down your throat, to pump your stomach with
charcoal. We will also have to shove a hose up your ..well, you know,
before your bladder ruptures." Then DeSoto mildly applied pressure
on his bladder and said. "We don't have to do all that if you can snap
out of it and tell us how many pills you took."

Michael opened his eyes a crack and started weeping. "Four.."
he said, and he held up four shaky fingers as well.

Roy smiled gently. "Since you took those pills, you need to
go to the hospital to get treated for at least dehydration and an
electrolyte imbalance."

Johnny, was now fully onto the situation, once he realized that
Roy had solved the mystery for him with just a scene check.
"So how about we load you into the ambulance and I'll give you
a urinal."

The kid abruptly nodded his head affirmatively.

It took every ounce of energy for Roy and Johnny to keep their
faces straight. Gage looked at Cap who asked. "Load and go?"

Roy nodded. "Yep, he's a Code 2 transport."

With that comment, the gang started putting away all the squad
gear.

Roy handed his notepad to the cop, winked at him, and asked.
"Can you take mom to the other room and get his information while
we load him up?"

When his mom left the room, Michael opened his eyes for the first time,
looked at the two paramedics and whispered, "Please hurry."

Gage and DeSoto loaded him up. And Roy volunteered to be the
one to ride in with the boy. He jumped in as Cap said, "You're writing
this report." and he closed the door from the outside.

Soon, Roy was alone with Michael.

Things quieted then in the driver's cab, as the ambulance began
to move.

Finally, DeSoto was able to say.. "Ok, the coast is clear." Michael
sprang to life, unable to drop his drawers fast enough under the
blanket to relieve himself.

As the Cadillac driver took off, he tapped the siren a few times for
no other reason than to give the Michael's mom one more step of a
truly adolescent, unfolding drama.

Once they turned the corner and had gone out of her sight, the driver
turned off the lights and Roy and the teenager were driven
casually the rest of the way to Rampart.

Along the way, Michael sighed, feeling much more relieved after
voiding more than a liter of fluid. The slightly built teenager
laid his head back down onto the pillow and said, "You're
awesome. I thought you were gonna bust me for being a fake."

Then, he started crying as he told Roy the story of his plight.

DeSoto shared with him. "Sometimes, while growing up, I thought
I had clueless parents, too. I know how life, as a teenager,
can actually be pretty miserable a lot of the time. And I know that
your parents probably remained ignorant of your feelings until
today, until you tried something like this."

Michael looked away from Roy with a resurgence of sadness.

Roy told him. "It's not so bad, Michael. You've probably succeeded at
re-connecting with your mom. But trying a suicide trick next time
will most likely turn into a real suicide because you won't ever know
what you're doing. I could very well be thumping on your chest right now."

Roy couldn't count how many times Michael apologized to him
then.

DeSoto said. "Be sure to explain the things you told me just now
to the psychiatric people who are going to evaluate you at
the hospital."

"Why are those kinds of doctors gonna be there? I'm not sick."

"They won't be seeing you for that, Michael, they'll be there
because you need to be assessed for being suicidal." Roy
clarified.

"They're going to think I'm nuts." he said.

"Yes, they will. Are you ready for that?"

"I'm gonna have to be." said the boy, with tears glistening in
his eyes.

-------------------------------------------------------------------------------- 
Later that night, Johnny and Roy returned to Rampart with a
new patient from another medical call. DeSoto told Johnny
that he wanted to stop by Michael's room.

Michael's mom was there and they were hashing out their
problems.

When Michael saw Roy, the first thing he said was, "They
hosed me." and he pointed to his urinary bag, obviously
angry about it.

Roy laughed good naturedly. "At least, some good looking nurse
did it here instead of one of us doing it on your living room couch
right in front of your mother."

Michael dropped his head, and sheepishly said. "Point made."

Dixie entered the treatment room with an intravenous tray and
the teenager promply offered her his arm. He certainly had
no complaints of having an IV after his first encounter with a Foley
catheter.

The boy was admitted for two days to monitor his electrolytes and for
a psych evaluation.

--------------------------------------------------------------------------------

The next morning, Roy got a phone call at the station from Michael.
##Hey, Mr. DeSoto. My parents want to invite you home sometime
so we can talk together over dinner.##

"I'm sorry, Michael. But I don't think that's a very good idea. You see,
here at the fire department, we're not allowed to get personally involved
with the patients we treat, but I appreciate the offer and I'm glad to
see that you and your mother are beginning to work out some of
those problems we discussed in the ambulance."

##You know something, Roy?## said Michael.

"What?" the paramedic smiled.

##I'm joining the paramedic program at the fire academy and it's
all because you directly inspired me to better myself.##

"Now that's a scary thought. I wish I had that same effect on both of
my kids."

##See you later?##

"No, but feel free to call here anytime, when you think you might be
having some of those old troubles plaguing you again and I'll promise
we'll talk more. Ok.?"

##I will. Thanks for saving my life, Mr. DeSoto. And please,
thank your partner, too, for not embarrassing me in front of
my mother when he realized I was actually awake.##

"Sure. Take care of yourself, Michael. Goodbye."

Roy hung up the phone and allowed a small smile to touch his lips.

Johnny, who was still up with Roy for the late show, mulled over Michael's
case. "You know, that boy had me completely fooled with his true medical
status. I had no idea he created the whole incident for us to find himself."

Roy didn't rub it in.
"I've found a good many suicide attempts, with teenagers overdosing
on pills, are usually staged because they're having a personal crisis.
They, almost ninety nine percent of the time, have absolutely no intention
of killing themselves, Johnny." Roy told him. "They create this kind of scene
just because they are going through something emotional that they think
they can't handle any more, and this is the easiest way for them to cry
out for help while trying to resolve it.

"Don't beat yourself up for not seeing through his ruse, Johnny. I'm just a
little more experienced than you are about these kinds of kids, probably
because I see milder versions of tantrums in my own kids so often. I think
I spotted the gist of things so fast because all the classic signs for a
pill stunt were there for his call."

----------------------------------------------------------------------------

Photos:  None.

**************************************************
From: "patti keiper" <pattik1@hotmail.com> 
Date: Fri Oct 28, 2005  6:41 pm 
Subject: Just Desserts.. 


Roy and Johnny couldn't believe the changes that had
sprouted around their favorite hot dog spot during the 
past seven days. 

New, trendy rice paper lamps and genuine car lot, 
triangle-plastic-flag banner strings, framed themselves over 
absolutely pristine, brand new, white wicker metal patio tables. 

Gone were the decrepid, peeling picnic tables of yore. All of the 
new shiny furniture, was sprawled underneath vinyl palm tree 
themed umbrellas, and accented occasionally with vases of real 
birds of paradise blooms.

Every day, when they could, between calls, Roy 
and Johnny, and sometimes even Chet Kelly made the sojourn
to Davey's stand for the free handouts that had been
contrived craftily by Gage's possibly very questionable 
medical deceptions.

"Well,.." Gage sighed expansively to DeSoto as he
leaned back in one of Mac's newly redesigned
and poshly cushioned seats. "I guess there's something
to be said for the positive life changes that can come about 
whenever someone believes that they've truly had a life after 
death experience. I mean, just look at this old place of Mac's. 
It's ...it's simply...incredible, Roy! Don't you think so, too?"

"Yeah, but I also ...still feel kinda bad about how we egged 
Mac on, just to con him out of some free food like this."

"Oh, Roy, there's no harm done. In fact, I'll just bet that ol 
Mac's making more cash now in a single day than he ever 
did in an entire month! The cost of feeding us has got
to be the merest drop in the bucket on expenses for him."

"Shh, he's coming back with our order." Roy cautioned,
trying to smile in spite of his still contradictory feelings about
the whole affair.

"Just the one dog today, fellas?" Mac beamed. 

"Yeah, we're splitting it up. We're not very hungry this
afternoon." Johnny chuckled. "It's been a very slow day
at the station, Mac." he said, sipping a straw noisily on a Dr. 
Pepper thermos advertising the new look for Mac's stand.
"We saved only....what?" he said, turning to Roy, who was 
trying to duck behind the new ice cream dessert menu..
"Just...two lives today, Roy? Is that right?"

"Yeah. A trucker wrapped around a viaduct pylon and an alcoholic
street bum who was suffering a cerebral vascular accident." DeSoto
replied reluctantly.

"Wow, my two very own personal heroes have pulled a couple of 
miracles yet again. Very impressive, fellas. Do you know how 
proud I am that I can call you my very dearest of friends these days?
Here, let me tuck that in all nice and neat for you, Mr. Gage."

"Oh, that's very nice of you, Mac. Thank you." Gage
smiled, allowing his now expensively poiffed, after shave splashed 
patron, to fuss over the unfolded napkin hanging from his collar.

Mac smiled and cooed, "Anytime, Mr. Gage." 

But then Mac did a most peculiar thing...

He set knot cording fists on either side of his 
neatly ironed, aproned hips as his usually good natured manner
decayed into something truly frightening. A full, very p*ssed 
off naval sargeant's bark exploded from his frothy lips. 
"Enjoy that delicious chili dog, boy, 'cause that's the last one 
you'll ever get to share with your pal here!"

"Uh, wha-- what do you mean.. Mac. Uh,...exactly?"
Gage stuttered, and then he completely obstructed on 
beef link.  

Roy thumped him in between the shoulder blades to 
rescue him quickly back into the world of the still 
conscious and breathing.

Mac clarified, in a dangerous voice carried softly enough, 
so that his regular and brand new crowd of business 
executives, wouldn't overhear him. "You twos was faking 
things on me the other day. In fact, I've known just what kind 
of nasty trick you two clowns actually pulled on me last week, 
all week long." he said knowingly in an unintentional verbal 
redundancy.

Roy immediately spat the very savory hot dog out of
his mouth and into a napkin and he managed 
to mumble.. "Y-you knew?"

"Yeah, I knew. Only I didn't find out about what you
two did, or more like what you didn't do to me, until 
later on that day, when I was taking my usual nightly 
bubble bath."

"Oh, uh...yeah?" Gage muttered lamely, a flush rising 
high and deep into his face.

"Yeah." Mac punctuated firmly. 

"How'dya find out?" Johnny asked him in a cowed squeak.
"Did a hospital staffer point out how common is it to black out
on pure oxygen while you're in the midst of hyperventilating?"

"No. I found out about your little stunt, because I didn't find 
none of them red defibberatin' circles burned into my everloving
hide... Nor did I find any sign of slimy spots anywhere on me,
which I've since learned from kindly coroners, that are supposedly 
left over from that jolting jelly stuff you fire guys always use 
when you're electra-jumpstarting fresh, dead folks." 

Roy and Johnny both gulped uncomfortably.

Mac's good natured grin sharpened into something
entirely hard. "My grandma always used to say, 'If someone
steals a dollar from you behind your back. Turn around and
give them your entire wallet, too, with a full smile. For it'll
make that thief's later shame and guilt burn that much brighter
about carrying out the crime in the first place.' I fed ya for nothing
all this time, just to make the revenge pot a little sweeter for the 
savoring. You know, my grandmother was a very wise woman, 
don't you think? 

"So enjoy the burn, you pathetic pair of cocky paramedics. 
Especially you, Mr. Gage. Because after that last delectable 
bite passes those pearly white, native son molars of yours, 
this establishment is swearing off giving ANY service 
to anyone who's of the firefighting persuasion, FOREVER!"
he roared. 

And with that, Mac strode purposely back to his neat as a pin, 
freshly painted, now very popular, trailer stand.

"Oh, boy.." Roy said, placing his stunned chin on his two 
thoroughly miserable sets of palms and elbows. "Did
we deserve that one." he murmured with a long, painful sigh.
Then he added. "Still feel terrifically great about this wonderful
day we're having?"

"I've got only one thing to say about being permanently 
banned from Davey's hot dog stand." Johnny swallowed,
suddenly feeling his meal sit like a heavy rock in the pit of
his stomach. 

"Oh," Roy conmiserated. "And what's that?"

"Doggone it." he whimpered.


FIN


The Shallow Light,
Episode Twenty Six,  Season Four
 

----------------------------------------------------------------------------

Photos:  None.

**************************************************
                 §§    The Shallow Light       §§


              :)    This episode is dedicted to Denis Gerzewski, who is                 :)
                     fighting lymphoma and leukemia for the chance to
                     live a life of joy and fulfillment for at least, a little while longer.
              :)                                                                                                               :)
 
@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@

The Story Unfolds...

Season Four, Episode Twenty Seven..
 
 §§    Heavy Duty     §§
 
Debut Launch: November 1st, 2005. 

 
 
**************************************************
From :  katalyia <katalyia@aol.com> 
Sent :  Tuesday, November 1, 2005 8:58 PM 
Subject :  [EmergencyTheaterLive] Heavy Duty 


Roy pulled Squad 51 to a halt, barely aware of the Engine doing the 
same behind him. He opened the door, and hopped out, knowing without 
looking that Johnny had beaten him out the door and was grabbing the 
lines out of the back, as he studied the side of the building. 
Following his partner's gaze, he wondered how they were going to get up 
there.

"How did they manage to get themselves stuck up there?" Johnny asked, 
as he looped the rope over his shoulders. "Do you see where they're at?"

"Yeah," Roy answered, following his pointing finger. "It's not going to 
be easy to get them down.

"You're right," Johnny responded, glancing back toward the engine and 
watching as Stanley approached. "What do you think, Cap? Want us to get 
up there before the snorkel gets here?"

Cap studied the situation for a moment, then answered, "You think you 
can make it up there?"

"Sure," Johnny answered, after a moment. "We can reach the top if we 
follow that path and then Roy can lower me down."

"Roy?" Cap asked, glancing at him.

"Sure," Roy answered, not liking the idea.

"What's the problem?" Johnny asked, picking up the slight hesitation.

"I don't like it. If either one of us slips, it's a long way down."

"But do we dare wait?" Johnny asked.

"No, we can't. Not with them that close to the edge."

"Then let's go," Johnny answered, heading off toward the only way up.

Roy sighed, not liking it, but knowing that Johnny was right, and 
followed him up. It was a rough climb and both of them had a problem at 
one time or another, to keep from getting stuck themselves. After what 
seemed like hours, but was only about thirty minutes, they reached the top 
and looked over the edge.

As Johnny put on his life belt and threaded the safety rope through the 
loop, Roy studied the area, hoping to find an easier way to reach them. 
By the time Johnny was ready, he had to accept that there was only one 
way down, and they were it.

"Ready?" Johnny asked, as he handed the rope to Roy.

"Yeah. You?" Roy shot back.

"Yeah," Johnny answered looking over the side. "I hope they stay put. 
Hitting the ledge from this angle is going to be hard enough without 
worrying about landing on them."

"Just be careful," Roy reminded him, bracing himself as Johnny slowly 
started down the incline.

"I will," Johnny responded, focusing his attention to a spot just to 
the right of the victims location.

All talking ceased as Johnny concentrated on maneuvering his way down 
the incline. He was basically climbing blind as he couldn't see more 
than three feet below him. He had only been working his way down for a 
few minutes when his left foot slipped out from beneath him and he went 
down and he hit the side of the incline. He gasped as the tension of 
the rope tightened around him before easing.

"Johnny!" Roy called down, as the rope went slack again. "Are you all 
right?"

"Yes!" Johnny called up, remaining prone as he wiped the dirt off his 
face and spit some from his mouth. "I'm all right!" Then glancing down, 
he saw he had about a foot to go. "Just another foot or so and I'll be 
there!"

"Okay! Taking up the slack!"

As soon as the slack was taken up, Johnny carefully brought his feet 
beneath him and started back down. A few minutes later, he had reached 
the ledge and looked into the two frightened faces looking up at him. 

"Hi! My name's Johnny. What do you say about getting down from here?"

-----------------------------------------------------------------------

Photos:  None. 

***************************************************
From :  Roxy Dee <laterrapincabesa@hotmail.com> 
Sent :  Thursday, November 3, 2005 1:50 PM 
Subject :  Birds of a feather~~ 



"We're not going unless they can go, too!" cried the blond haired 
girl.

Johnny had to blink at that. "Uh,.." he mumbled, looking around 
and wiping the ample sweat off of his brow with a glove. "Who're 
they?"

"Them!" said the boy in Gage's arms, pointing. "Right over there.."

"They need us!" insisted his young female friend. "They're hurt. Not 
us!"


DeSoto rubbed dirt off his exertion runny nose. "Did we miss a head 
count here, Johnny? I thought the corner cop said that there were only 
two kids stuck up here."

Roy and Johnny both twisted on their ropes, mindful of snagging, 
until they eyeballed the side of the building's escarpment cap upon 
which the stately stone skyscraper gargoyles sat.  

Gage came face to face with a nervous peregrine, backframed by 
the flowing traffic, far below. "Agh!" he shouted, when the bird promptly 
took to the air and started dive bombing both the firemen paramedics.
"Would you--!" He bit off his explicative when he realized that an angry
bird of prey wasn't all that good on the english language.

Roy ducked, too, and swayed, causing both their anchor ropes to jostle
and ripple down the building.

Cap's voice immediately shot out of their belted HTs, its sudden booming
immediate voice driving off the oddly furious falcon. ##Engine 51 to Squad 51!
Are you all right up there?! Do you have a struggle on your hands?##

Johnny fumbled for his talkie, spinning on his line ridiculously, until he
planted both feet on the powered down radio antennae that they had
just climbed past to still himself. "Affirmative and negative! We just got--" 
and he broke off, at a loss for words.

Roy, still rotating on his lifeline slowly, got out his own radio and
completed the sentence Johnny couldn't finish, neatly. "..shown off
by a peregrine falcon. Must be a nest around here somewhere
nearby."

##I'm beginning to understand things a little better here. Kids and
birds' nests are like powercords and outlets. They're gonna get into them.##
sighed Cap. ##O.k. Do what you have to do while you secure those kids.
If the air attacks get bad, let us know and we'll send a stream up through
the bucket man. 110's snorkel is half way up to you already. It will be 
extended to meet you as far as it can reach, at the halfway descent point.##

Both paramedics threw their chins down to gape between their hanging
feet and saw that it was true.

##Any injuries? Do you want an ambulance?## Hank asked.

"Affirmative, Cap. Looks like the boy here's got a face lac. Let's go through 
the motions for mom's sake, when you find her." Roy said, starting to seethe 
at the idea that two children under ten were unattended long enough to get 
themselves stuck on a ledge sixty storys up a very tall building.  
"Are you his sister?" he asked the little girl while he roped and lifebelted
her in. He had noticed the close resemblance between the two.

"Yeah, I'm Nan and that's Stan, short for Stanley Dean."

Johnny caught onto his irritated mood in kind. "Listen, doesn't being 
this high up bug you two at all?" he asked the boy while he lifebelted and 
hooked the child safely snugged to his own.

"Why should it? My sister says you can't fall if you don't move. So why 
be afraid of it?"

Roy started grinning despite himself but then his fierce disapproval of
unshaparoned minors got the best of him. "Does your mother know where
you are?"

"Sure she does. She's one of the biologists who's been studying Zoom 
here." said Stan, accepting the helmet that Johnny put onto his head.
"She just left a half an hour ago to get us lunch. We didn't mean to fall. 
Honest. Usually, we're very careful. We just go out to make sure the eggs 
are staying warm."

"Every day." agreed Nan. "Only today, Stan twisted his ankle and fell 
down to the ledge. That's how we found out that Zephyr and one of his babies 
were hurt from a cat that tried to eat them. Zoom's just trying to protect her 
family. She didn't mean anything.." insisted Nan. "Please, please you gotta 
get Zephyr and the hurt baby down. That's what we wanted to do in the
first place."

Gage started up. "Now listen. We're people paramedics, not peregrine
paramedics! And besides, birds' of prey talons are very dangerous if
you don't know what're doing. And I'll admit, I don't know what I'm doing
even being up here, guys!"

Nan crossed her arms. "You climbed up here because a cop told you to
do it. I know how it works. Mom and us, we always get harrassed by them 
about studying the three confirmed falcon families around town."

Roy's eyebrows went up at that fairly informed answer. It spoke of an intelligence
that belied age. "Ok, so you think you were given proper permission to
hang on the side of a building just because your mother has a license to? 
Well, let me share something with you, it's against the law for folks your age."

It was Stan's turn to cross his arms, except for when he had to swat away
Johnny's hand for fussing with his small cheek cut with a square piece of
gauze. "What law? There's no ordinance against falcon studies."

"Oh, yeah? I'm not talking about urban nature study regulations, I'm talking
about reckless child endangerment!" said DeSoto, glaring firmly.

Gage, meanwhile, still had his hands full. " Hold still, Stan. All right. I'll stop 
monkeying with your laceration until we hit the ground. Lemme see your ankle. 
Now which one is it?" he said, beginning to spin on the axis of his rope again 
until the firefighter manning it below muscled in the reverse rotation, 
to slow and stop the effect. 

"The left one."
"The left one." replied both kids. But then Stan added more. "Don't think my
foot's outta commission, buster. Because I'm gonna start doing a whole lotta
kicking here, square into your gut, if you don't rescue Zephyr and his son
before you two turkeys leave with us on this 'rescue'."

Johnny framed an arm around his middle instinctively. "That wouldn't
be the smartest thing to do, now would it?"

"When two lives are on the line?" Nan huffed. "You bet it is. Go get em! Or
I'll add biting to his list! But, take me with you when you go to the nest and
I promise I'll keep Zoom from taking a chunk out of your scalp."

DeSoto sighed and then signalled to the firemen watching from the
bucket snorkel below that he was going to be making a lateral move.
"Take your sweater off. I'll use that to wrap the tiercel in. You handle 
the hurt chick. I need both my hands to do the climbing. I'll put him
into my helmet and hang it off a jacket snaffle or something. Just
stay quiet and unmoving while I'm doing it."

"Thank you, sir." said the little girl politely.

 Stan started up. "See, Nan? I guess firemen aren't so bad after all. They
actually listen to ya unlike those corner cops we constantly dodge to
get up here."

Zoom, the female peregrine, started screaming when her mate and one 
of her chicks suddenly disappeared from her sight a few minutes later.

But she didn't charge ballastically any more, past the one armor beaked 
stab she took at Roy's departing shoes as he left the nest site. 

Zephyr, the male falcon's head, now kid sweater covered, caused the bird 
to twitter softly in question and that calmed down much of the flying female's 
fire directed at the two adult human intruders, after that.

-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

It was a long trip down to the snorkel. 

Johnny and Roy didn't know exactly what they were going to tell Captain 
Stanley in explanation when he finally eyeballed the two bleeding birds 
with them. They unspokenly decided that the problem was beneath notice.

All they cared about was that two more kids hadn't become another set of 
sad urban fall fatality statistics. 

-----------------------------------------------------------------------

Photo:  Gage hanging from a rope in the sky.

Photo:  Roy near a ledge trapped man.

Photo:  A peregrine falcon, staring at you, backdropped by traffic.

Photo:  A falcon dive bombing from a fire stairwell.

Photo:  Roy talking to a kid calmly.

Photo:  A falcon attacking someone's escaping shoes.

Photo:  Roy reaching for a boy on a ledge on a ladder.

Photo:  An Addison ladder and bucket, fully extended vertically.

Photo:  That same ladderview, straight down towards the engine.

Photo:   Cap, peering upwards, intently, in a helmet.

**************************************************
From: "Cassidy Meyers" <killashandraRey@hotmail.com> 
Date: Mon Nov 7, 2005  4:35 pm 
Subject: The AMA girl.. 


Roy and Johnny were divested of their problem in the
form of the children's mother, who strode into their
midst wearing a bland, I-expected-this-to-happen-someday,
matter of fact expression.  "Nan?..Stanley?.. ah, there you are. 
Oh, hi fellas. Excuse me a second and I'll be right with you." 
She immediately knelt by her son's cot and examined the 
softly warbling bird in the boy's arms. "Oh, no! Don't tell me,
the penthouse caretaker's cat?!  You poor thing..." she cooed
at Zephyr, gently manipulating the falcon's wing out to inspect
all the blood tinged pinions. "Stan, he's ok, this doesn't look
serious. Just a few nasty skin scratches."

Roy and Johnny exchanged disbelieving looks with each other.
Then Roy DeSoto cleared a thoroughly climb weary, dusty throat 
and took a step forward while his partner, Gage, stood by with 
the bio receiver phone open to Rampart, and muffled against 
his thigh. He knew that Roy, by far, was the best choice to
play the public service diplomat. Johnny tried to content himself
with nursing his cramp riddled shoulders and forearms.

"Ma'am?" DeSoto smiled timidly, through the grime on his face.
"Can we talk a moment? We can't treat the boy here until we do."

The long haired ornithologist finally looked up, a warm grin on her
face now completely free of birding worry.  "My son can handle getting 
a few bumps and bruises without fussing or bothering folks unnecessarily. 
I'm ...pretty sure he must have told you already that his scrapes are 
nothing by now. He knows enough to tell someone whenever he's really 
hurt. I can tell he isn't, or he would've shared that with me already, 
Mr....uh.."

"Mr. DeSoto. Fireman paramedic Roy...DeSoto." he added, still plastered
in a mild public smile and pulling on his shirt's name tag.

"Yes, I think I understand the nature of your occupation." the mother 
said demurely with a winning freckled grin as she hugged her daughter 
and kissed her head. "Good job getting help for Zephyr and his son, dear. 
I'll call the vets right away as soon as we're done speaking with these 
fine firemen." she told Nan as she next held and examined the 
fluttering white falcon chick. She looked up with the first frown the firemen
had yet seen. "Uh,, do either of you have some cotton or a clean cloth
handy? I can't see what I'm doing here."

Johnny ran frustrated fingers through his hair and thrust out an already 
opened and corner taped four by four for her.

"Oh, thank you so much." said the mother and she taped up a bare spot of
ripped away down on the tiny bird's back. "There, Nan. Stop fretting. This'll 
hold well enough to keep him warm until we get to the university lab."
Then she stood. "I believe, sir, that your station has an against medical
advice form that I have the option of signing that'll release you from all of 
your legal responsibility regarding my children. I'd like to do that now if
I may."

Gage blinked, and found himself caught in a coughing fit when the mom's
comment thoroughly surprised the snot out of him. He waved away
Roy and the mother both when they looked over at him in concern.
"Ahhh, ..about his ankle, ma'am..."

"Which one?" she sniffed curiously, looking down. She was 
completely worry free.

"The left one. Uh, right there." Johnny said, pointing and pulling up the 
dusty boy's pants leg.

"Stan, is your foot still sore?" the mother asked her adventurous boy.

"Nope. It's better now. See?" and he stamped his paramedic unsneakered
foot against the pavement in a few solid smacks. "And a bandaid will
fix the nick on my face. It's not even bleeding any more." 

"I'll get you one out of my knapsack once we're in the car. Come on, we
better not waste anymore of these fine gentlemen's time. The longer we
wait to get Zephyr and his son treated the slower their recovery period'll
be." And she scribbled on the line Roy pointed to on the form, efficiently 
swift.

Cap couldn't hold himself back any longer. He approached. "Ms..,do you
realize how much it costs citizen taxpayers to haul out three fire 
stations for a high rise building rescue?"

"I didn't call for you. They did.." she neatly told Cap, pointing to
the glaring traffic policemen, without breaking her bubbly expression. 
"Take it up with them." And with that, the biologist mother bustled up both 
birds, both of her kids, and promptly made herself gone.

Cap sighed through tight lips and actually sat down on the engine's side 
bumper in full view of all the curious business district onlookers currently 
on their lunchbreaks who were out to view the fire department's unexpected
showing.

Gage joined him, and Roy, too, folding out of their sweaty paramedic turnouts,
into utterly exhausted piles on either side of him.

"How do you feel about this one, Cap?" Johnny groaned, a hand over his 
eyes.

"Just terrific..." he growled sarcastically,  replying as he rubbed his own. Then
Cap lifted his HT. "Engine 51, L.A. Snorkle Truck 110, Stations 8 and 51 are 
now one hundred percent...available."

##Engine 51.##

A long interval of stupefaction overtook all three firemen as the call's tensions
drained away.  Then Hank spoke. "You won't hear this from the cops or from 
our dear departing ditching victims, either, I'm afraid. But,... nice job up there, 
you two. That was absolutely fabulous high angle work you did for them."

"Thanks, Cap." Roy said, not moving.
    "Appreciate it.." Gage echoed, just as immobile. "Ow,..I think.."

Cap rose and helped each of his climb rubbery men, to their feet.
"Come on. We've got to clear out of the streets. A set of showers isn't much 
to offer, I know. But I'll turn your bunks down myself for the naps you two have 
just earned yourselves big time."

But the naps the squad crew rightfully earned would never come that afternoon.
Because then, something happened that no one could've ever predicted.

----------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Photo:  Cap, saying why me in front of the engine.

Photo: Johnny and Roy getting ready for bed.

Photo: A peregrine near a rooftop nest.

Photo: Johnny, exhausted, outside by the engine.

**************************************************
From :  wone3 <jwilds@starpower.net> 
Sent :  Monday, November 14, 2005 7:20 PM 
Subject :  [EmergencyTheaterLive] Roller Disco 


At Rampart Hospital, the day had been moving along. 

While not totally overly busy, the doctors and nurses on duty had seen 
their fair share of patients but still had time for short breaks in 
between. Doctors Kel Brackett and Mike Morton were presently among 
the ones on duty along with Head Nurse Dixie McCall. Joe Early would 
be coming on later in the day after having a day off. He was 
substituting for another doctor on vacation that week. 

Presently, Kel and Dixie were in treatment room two with a patient, a 
Miss Stephanie Miller. Stephanie had been watching the latest show on 
TV where the dancers were performing roller disco and had decided to 
go outside and try it herself. She wasn't going too badly until her spins got 
totally out of control and her legs got twisted. She then went 
tumbling to the cement trying to catch herself on the way down. She 
was sitting in the treatment room with her left wrist and both ankles 
splinted, awaiting surgery that the x-rays indicated she needed. Kel 
had thought based on a few observations that Stephanie might be 
anemic based on her vital signs and asked for samples to be taken down 
to the lab. The x-rays had returned, but the lab results hadn't yet, 
which was totally unusual. Kel Brackett was getting impatient to get 
his patient up to surgery to set the breaks that the x-rays revealed, 
and Dixie could tell. 

"Doctor, do you want me to go down to the lab and see what the hold 
up is?" Dixie asked.

"If you would, Nurse," Kel answered and then quietly leaned in and 
said, "I'll meet you in the lounge to share a cup of coffee after 
you return with the results."

"Ok, doctor. Let me make sure the base station is covered and I'll 
go down." she replied with a knowing smile as she exited the 
treatment room.

Dixie walked down the hall and noticed Carol by the base station. 
Dixie told Carol where she was headed and asked her to stay by the 
desk since she knew that Station 51 was out on a call. Carol 
reassured her that she'd stay at the desk, and Dixie headed to the 
stairs leading to the new basement laboratory. 

The basement laboratory was down a rather long hall once Dixie 
reached the bottom of the stairs. There were several storage rooms 
and former abandoned labs between the stairs and the new lab. A 
couple of the storage rooms still had oxygen stored inside and one of 
those rooms was an old lab that still had old, usable wiring. 

However, the wiring in this room hadn't been checked in a very long 
time and the safety coating on the wires had worn away exposing the 
bare metal. Electricity was still flowing through this room and 
several rooms adjoining it, including a storage room near the new 
lab. 

A technician had gone into the adjoining storage room and turned 
on the light to retrieve something, sending electricity through the 
entire circuit. The wiring in the old lab couldn't take it and 
sparked, setting the wiring in the wall on fire. The fire in the wall 
spread quickly outward to the wall's surface and down the wall coming 
closer to the stored oxygen. 

As Dixie passed in front of the door to that lab, the fire reached the 
stored oxygen causing a big, loud blast. The blast took the door of 
that room off of its hinges, slamming it into Dixie; and slamming both 
of them into the wall across the way. Dixie immediately blacked out.

Upon hearing the blast Kel said...

---------------------------------------------------------------------------------
Photos: None.

********************************************************************
From: "Monster Moofie" <monstermoof4me@yahoo.com> 
Date: Tue Nov 15, 2005  6:58 pm 
Subject: 51's new clothes 

A clothes line above 51's crew snapped, raining down its contents
onto the unsuspecting guys. Johnny now was wearing an underwear
hat, and Marco was covered in pink, polka dot and zebra striped
socks. The line could not have fallen any more perfectly onto Chet,
allowing a size 28 dress to float onto the unsuspecting fireman,
fitting over his turnout coat perfectly. Unfortunately for Johnny,
Chet and Marco, the clothes had just been hung and they were still
soaking wet.

Cap's jaw fell open as he watched his crew be clobbered with
clothes. He couldn't help it and dissolved into hysterical
laughter, along with Roy, Mike and stations 8 and snorkel 110.

A crewman from 8's said to Chet, "Madam, would you have this dance
with me?" causing the rest of the crew to nearly collapse on the
ground in laughter.

Red faced, Chet threw off the dress and headed back to the engine
and got in. Johnny and Marco followed suit, followed by a bunch of
laughing hyenas.

Johnny muttered as he went. "So much for a nap this afternoon. I'm
too awake now and the guys won't stop laughing until a month of
Sundays has passed."

"We really ought to make a supply run anyway, Johnny," Roy advised
his sulking partner. "Remember? We didn't have time this morning."

"Ok let's go." Johnny replied. "Cap we're going to make a supply
run." he advised.

The crews got in their vehicles, heading back to their respective
stations. Squad 51 headed to Rampart.

Shortly, Squad 51 was pulling into Rampart's driveway. Watching the
ER grow larger, Johnny said, "I sure hope they have a fresh pot of
coffee! I could sure use a cup about now." 

Roy backed up and parked and the paramedics were getting out of 
the squad when an explosion shook the building.

Johnny looked at Roy and saw the look of dread mirrored in Roy's
face that he knew must be on his own. He picked up the microphone
and radioed dispatch.

----------------------------------------------------------------------------------
Photos: None.

***************************************************
From :  Cory Anda <andacory@hotmail.com> 
Sent :  Wednesday, November 16, 2005 11:10 AM 
Subject :  Underground.. 


The shake that had rattled Kel's teeth, died away. 

"What the--?!"
Then Dr. Brackett remembered his limb fractured young
skater and immediately curbed his first natural instinct to
get loud in his shock about the concussion he just felt and heard
through the floor tiles. "Easy. I know that sounded a little frightening.
I'm going to go out and find out what that was. Stay here, Miss Miller. 
I'll have an orderly let you know what's going on just as soon as I do."
he promised with a barely believable smile.

Kel fled the treatment room for the front desk.

-------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Dr. Llewellyn, the orthopedic surgeon Kel had asked for, was
shouting at the panicking nurses gathering around reception.
"Quiet! Security's already on the way down there to see
if the way's open to that level. But no one, absolutely no one
else is allowed to go into that area until the fire department
says it's ok to enter there!" said the jowled white moustached
doctor in scrubs. "I will not add to any casualties intentionally.
Is that clear?!"

Kel immediately shouldered into the bunch taking charge. 
"Benjamin. What happened?!"

"Explosion. In the south lab's outbuilding basement, 
offshooting the main hospital proper." said Llewewllyn quickly.

"How do you know that?"

"Because I stuck my head out the doctor's lounge window, and 
I looked! Don't get stupid on me, Kel. I know you're worried about
Dixie McCall. We all are. That's at least half the cause of all the
pandemonium going on around here." replied the older doctor 
saucily. 

Kel took a deep breath, one that he could feel down into his very
heels and he barely curbed an angry outburst. "Ok, ok...you're right.
I'm not thinking clearly yet. But I'm gonna change that right now by
getting a hold of the fire department." he said, grabbing up the
red phone only used in the worst emergencies.

Ben grabbed his arm. "I'll let you know what the security guards
discover, I promise that, Kel. But after you make the call, triage must
take the priority. The junior M.D.'s can handle patient management
without us while we get everything ready to run hot. Morton's already
applying his unique brand of diplomacy as you can see.." and the
surgeon pointed to the waiting room. 


Dr. Brackett saw that Mike was in his deepest professional colors,
issuing orders to his staff and reassuring those in the waiting room
that their immediate safety was not in jeopardy. "Yes, there's a fire.
But it's in the next building. Please, everybody remain seated and
calm. There is no need for an evacuation as yet. I'll have a spokes
person fill you in once help arrives and after they've assessed our 
current ongoing damage. Please, if you'll excuse me.." he shouted
over the noisy babble of people. "I'm needed by my superiors."
Dr. Morton neatly extricated himself from the public's eye to join 
Ben and Kel.

Dr. Brackett saw that he already had soot on his face as he hung up
the phone with the fire dispatching center. "How bad is it, Mike?"

"Bad enough." said Morton.

"Did you see any sign of--"

"No, Kel. I didn't. The stairwell ceiling's partially caved in, in that underground 
tunnel walkway. But the smoke didn't smell like chemicals to me. Only like 
burning cardboard. If Dixie had time to make it down there after leaving
your treatment room, she won't have inhalation poisoning to deal with."

"No, only one tiny complication...called a roaring fire, Mike." he growled,
clearly not happy in the slightest as he kept the worst of his agitation
low so no one not medical would overhear. 

Morton had nothing else to say. So he put his attempt at reassurance 
into physical action. "I'm going to meet the first fire crews at the ER
entrance and let them know what we've got."

Ben Llewellyn added more. "And I'll go up to the sixth floor to get the
blueprints of the tunnelways under the parking lot leading to that lab
building."

Dr. Brackett nodded. Then he spotted Roy and Johnny, masking up
in scba gear, jogging down the hallway towards them with fire extinguishers
in both of their hands.

Gage wasted no time. "Doc, help's already on the way."

"I know." Brackett tried to grin. "They told me. Guys, can you go check
it out? There's a good chance Dixie might be trapped. No one's heard
from her since it happened. " His face twisted in horrified guilt. 
"I asked her to go check on some results down there."

Roy was level headed. "Dr. Brackett. What's in that lab?"

"Just tissue sampling equipment and storage. The basics. Nothing
substantial like fuel or other volatile chemicals. But there's a supply room of 
surgical gas tanks right next door on the same level in the sub-basement. That's 
probably what went up." Kel said, mincing on his toes as he fretted.

"What about biohazards?" Gage asked as he tested his mask's air flow regulator
with a few taps. 

"The fire will take care of the small stuff. Don't worry, the type fours are all well 
away from the fire in another unconnected building. Including samples of your 
monkey virus, Johnny. All the cultures Rapid Lab deals with are your usual
garden variety emergency room ache and moan bugs, exclusively."

"I think we can handle the sniffles, don't you think, Johnny?" Roy joked.

Kel immediately took solace in DeSoto's shammed calm. "I'll hand you
the kleenix boxes myself. Can you just go? I thought you guys can scout around 
without a captain's order as long as you have a charged hose."

"We can." said Gage.

"Good." said the older, listening bone surgeon. "There's one in the west stairbay. 
But, uh, don't try the east way down. Dr. Morton says it's blocked by ceiling 
debris." said Dr. Llewellyn.

The silent Dr. Morton, next to him, nodded.

"We're on it." said Johnny. He and Roy ran back outside to the squad to
grab tools and irons. 

Together, they ran into the smoke pouring out of the lab building in
Rampart's shadow as the sound of responding fire station sirens began
filling the air.
 
--------------------------------------------------------------------------
 
Photo:     Brackett, Gage and DeSoto in an urgent huddle
                at Rampart in the hallway.

Photo:     Morton, seated, looking urgent.

Photo:     DeSoto's jacketed back as he is grabbing gear out of the squad. 

Photo:     Gage and DeSoto in full scba gear, heading down to
                a lower level floor in an elevator. 

***************************************************
From: "Roxy Dee" <laterrapincabesa@yahoo.com>
Subject: Plan of Attack
Date:  Fri Nov 18, 2005  1:53 pm


Battalion 14 rose out of the driver's seat of his red chief's car
and surveyed the scene around the lab building as arriving fire
stations filled in around him on all quadrants of the fire site
that was showing clear of blast debris. He got on his
radio mic's bullhorn. ##Station 36 : See if you can determine
an estimate of the numbers trapped and their possible locations.
Engine 8 : Ascertain the type and extent of the damage to the
building, any hazards and where they are. Battalion One: Get on 
top of what rescues are currently underway right now. L.A. specified 
that two from Squad 51 are in the immediate vicinity and responding. 
Engine 51: Cover the north exposure and lay out two inch and a halves 
in a water curtain over the main tunnel entrance. Use extreme caution.
This is a hazmat priority one until we find out otherwise.## he 
ordered. ##Ladder Nine : Cover the west side with your equipment
for an external attack only. Stations 24 and 18 : Start handling these
walking wounded in the parking lot and remove all other
casualities from non-difficult situations as you find them. Do not
enter the fire area with scba until we get Squad 51's initial scene status 
report. Engine 10 : Search areas of high survivability, blocked by light 
debris only, until after we've received positive feedback from Squad 51.
Anyone else: Report anything critical to note, directly to me.## 

The chief of the district nodded in grim satisfaction as all phases
of the operation around Rampart took shape and acknowledged his
overall plan. To his practiced eye, it was bad. ::The subterranean tunnel
networks in these hospitals always beg for trouble whenever one of
them goes up. And it looks like this one has, the whole way under
the parking lot. My secondary concern is the stability of the asphalt
infrastructure over the tunnels leading directly to the lab building.
Cars can and will tumble into the fire zones underground if the
temperatures underneath rise high enough. And then we'll have
exploding gasoline tanks from collapsed cars to manage as further
risks.:: he reasoned. But he kept his worries to himself while his eyes 
drank in the disaster site for more information. His right hand clutched 
the now live HT tuned to Squad 51's duty active frequency in a grip of 
iron. Tightly.

Glancing over his shoulder, he spotted some hospital staffers already
setting up triage inside Rampart's helicopter hanger. Some were milling 
about behind his car with laden gurneys and ambu bags. He flagged down
a pair of them who seemed to have a doctor in their midst judging
by the stethoscope around one silver haired man's neck.

He gestured the blue jumpsuited team over. 

"Chief?" asked Dr. Joe Early. "I just got word. Any victims yet?" he
asked the white helmeted fireman as he checked and rechecked
airways and crash cart medications under the stretcher's buckled
straps.

"Squad 51's on a rapid recon to find at least one. Stick arou--."
A sweeping plume of dust like a wind devil suddenly billowed
around them and all three of them started choking. The chief shielded
his face, using a hospital blueprint map as cover. Battalion 14's
voice shouted over a sudden roaring sound in disbelief..
"Is that chopper running hot?"

"Yeah." answered Dr. Morton, who was teamed up with Joe, glancing
over to the hospital's roof and eyeing it. "Guess they figured they'd
be ready for any critical evacs once we fill up."

The chief immediately got on his full, wide bandwidth channel. ##Copter 2. 
Power down immediately! Your backdrafts are raising dust that'll suffocate  
our exposed victims! You and you alone are grounded until this scene's 
fully contained. Shut down all systems and report to triage to aid operations!##

The pilot complied instantly. He had been unable to see the effect of his 
rotor wash through all the smoke spilling from the violated lab.

Battalion 14 turned back to the sheepish doctors. "He meant well but that 
was inexcusable. I've been telling the county to train pilots as firefighters 
but they never listen!"

"Someday, perhaps." Joe admitted. "Look how long it took Kel Brackett
to get your department to accept the paramedic program."

"Point taken. I guess progress is always slow when you want things to
move along faster than the established bureaucracy. How many victims
can your teams handle in triage?"

"As many as you can give us, chief. We've recalled all available hospital 
staff in for this emergency." empathized Morton.

"Good man. I'll let you know when those in the building are finally outta there."

"We'll be waiting." said Joe Early.

The two doctors retreated to the chopper's hanger to radio from their portable 
base station to the paramedic one inside Rampart about the walking wounded 
being rushed through their propped open ambulance doors.

Battalion 14 turned back towards the fire. ::Okay boys, I've done my part.:: 
he wished at Squad 51's men. ::Now tell me what you're doing for yours..::

-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
Photos:  None.

***************************************************
From: "Champagne Scott" <chameleonkate@hotmail.com> 
Date: Fri Nov 18, 2005  8:47 pm 
Subject: Debris Pile... 

 
Roy turned from his fast rummaging through the squad when
his partner tapped him urgently on the shoulder.

"Would you look at that?!" Johnny mumbled, his face going slack.

DeSoto looked. "The upper story's going?"

"That's got to be an elevator shaft. I thought Brackett said
that all the passages leading to the effected building are
underground."

"That was my impression. Let's get going, junior." he said,
hefting up an extra set of scba air bottles to leave by the
entrance for themselves. "Time's more than wasting."

"You don't have to tell me twice." Gage said empathetically.

They noted the arriving fire response with a sidelong glance
and then they had their masks on and found themselves embedded 
in the sublet staircasing leading underground. Immediately, the 
smoke grew thick. But it was white. 

::Clean burning.:: Roy thought automatically as he tied off both 
their lifelines to a railing at the foot of the parking lot's stairs. He 
left the bright yellow clump of airbottles as a conspicuous marker 
to show other units where they had entered the fire zone.

"Dixie?!" Gage began to shout as they began their search of
the rooms immediately around them with sharp kicks to locked doors
and hastily scrawled 'room empty' chalk marks.
They started working quickly towards the orange fire glow remnants 
that they could see left over from the initial explosion. As they got
nearer, the atmosphere around them grew clearer and more free of
billowing smoke.

"There's a hole to the outside around here somewhere." Roy grunted
through his respirator's mouth piece at Johnny.

"Yeah, and it's gonna fan up the bad stuff." he said kicking away
a pile of lumber that had fallen from the ceiling after making doubly 
sure no live wires were crisscrossing through the middle of them. 
"I wonder if the hospital engineers know to shut off the utilities and 
power down here?" Gage shouted. "Dixie?!" 

"If they don't, Battalion will be sure to remind them." DeSoto replied back,
making another chalk marked "X" on the door of the room that had
proven itself to contain no downed victims. "Dixie! Can you hear me?!"
he chorused right after Johnny.

There was no reply from the missing nurse in the relative quiet.

Gage was growing more nervous. "I don't like this, it's too easy.
Where's the heart of the fire, Roy? The explosion's origin?"

They came to a T junction intersection of hallways where they faced no
possible good choice, but to split up, in order to still rapidly cover 
the search area. 

"One thing at a time, junior, one thing at a time. Whatdiya want?
Left side or right side?" DeSoto said falsely confident.

"I'll follow my writing hand." Gage said turning left. "Keep in contact,
partner, over the HT every thirty seconds." he panted with
effort. "I say, too, that we pull out for our next set of air bottles in....
six and a half minutes..Tops."

"Done.." Roy gasped.

They separated, following the oddly normal looking corridors of the lab's
reception area, casting about for audible moaning or the sight of 
singed bodies on the floor.

A minute later, Gage's voice came over the frequency. ##I got one, 
Roy! He's in the freight elevator! You were right about that change. The 
fire's vertically climbing around the shaft!##

DeSoto didn't stop his own searching, and he stumbled over debris;
some unseen carts and a couple of concussion tipped towel storage shelves 
lying in piles in the dimness. "Need help with him?" Roy shouted into 
his walkie.

Johnny's breaths came in whistles over Roy's radio as he hefted up
the semi conscious orderly's back against a wall using the sooty man's 
feet as anchors under his own so he could tumble him between his shoulder
and his air bottle in a fireman's carry. ##Nah, I'll be faster on my own. 
Keep looking for Dixie! I'm headed outside with this guy and I'll be 
right back! * cough.*cough* ##

"Ok, I'll be watching for ya!"

Gage's breathing came painfully rapid due to the fatigue that he had been
fighting since the skyscraper climb after the peregrine falcon admiring kids.
He rested for a long moment at the foot of the short stairs leading up to
the parking lot before heading back into the daylight with his half out
victim.

Captain Stanley met him there and Johnny was rapidly divested of his
burden. "He breathing?"

"Yeah!" Gage gasped, peeling off his mask. He folded into an indian style
crouch onto the ground, sucking in the much cooler, fresher air now swirling
amply around him as he recovered from the rescue.

"Ok, give me the short of it." Hank ordered. "What's in there?"
the tall commander demanded as they both watched Chet and Marco
carry off the luckless lab orderly to the nearby triage center 
set up in the heliport hanger, on a backboard. Cap and Gage watched
as the man  was richly ventilated with pure oxygen from a demand 
valve in time with his own weaker inhalations as he was carried away
from them.

Gage stretched out onto his side, not even bothering to remain seated as 
he talked. He began checking and rechecking the integrity of the knot
on his lifeline that was still whole and attached to his scba's harness. 
"There's no sign of discoloration in the smoke or flames, Cap. So no 
chemical spills there, but we can't seem to find the center of things either. 
It's real weird inside. Blast damage is all around us concentrically, 
not located just in one or two places..."

"Hmm." said Hank, thinking. "A large scale trigger field, huh? Perhaps 
the news is true then, that a faulty wire in the surgical gas store room 
along with a slowly leaking oxygen tank, is the cause of it all. There'd be 
little flame in a situation like that after the flashpoint."

"That's a thought." Johnny said. He grabbed Hank's arm. "Cap, I think 
everybody got out. There wasn't a single soul down there,.. except for him."

Cap started to grin.

"And maybe...Dixie McCall."

"What?!" Hank uttered, horrified.

"Brackett says Dixie came down to this particular lab after some results 
on a fracture patient.  He mentioned that there's a good chance she may 
have been in the lab itself next to Surgical Supply at the time of the 
explosion because she hasn't been seen by anyone since then." Johnny 
told him.

"Have you two searched down that far yet?"

"Roy's working on it."

"How are you two doing fatigue wise?"

"We're....fine." Johnny lied.

"What about THAT fire?" Cap said jerking his head at the blaze 
sputtering out the top window of the freight elevator shaft.

"That's only the greased cable burning and then probably 
the start of the roof of the shaftworks room. It's doesn't have
a lot of fuel to go anyplace else, Cap."

"Ok,..Get back in there. I'll have a hose team on your backs in two minutes." Cap
promised. "See you in four when you change out your bottles." Johnny rose and
turned to leave when he felt Hank jerk him to a halt by a bottle strap. 
"Wait! Gimme your out tags first!"

Johnny sheepishly handed Hank both Roy's and his, metal id incident tags for
the chief's status and personnel board from a special clip on his jacket.  

Cap patted Gage's back encouragingly and gave him a push back down the
subterranean stairs after his paramedic had reapplied his air mask and had his 
helmet returned to his head tightly. Then, he got on his HT on the squad's 
frequency. "Engine 51 to HT 51 DeSoto! Your position?"

Inside the crackling, but only fitfully burning, shattered lab, Roy studied a door.
##Suite 9-A, heading, uh,... heading towards the east wing.##

"10-4." Hank said watching his best rescue man return down into the smoke 
with trepidation.

------------------------------------------

Back inside, Johnny quickly caught up with Roy. "How's your air, pally?"

"Five minutes left. Yours?"

"Same. Let's go." Johnny said, yanking on his trailing lifeline so it wouldn't
snag on obstacles. 

"That corridor's clear! There's no one else." he said when Johnny wanted to
continue where he had left off.

"Ok," Gage gasped, hurrying alongside his partner down the final wing still
left unexplored.  Soon, they spotted a form on the carpetting next to a warped, 
force torn, now floor stretched, door. "Female victim! Ohmyg*d. Is that Dixie?"

"Sure is!" Roy celebrated through his steamy mask.  
But then his great fear bit home."Dixie?! ....Hey, can you hear me? Dixie!!"

She was lying face down and didn't move in the slightest at the sound of their 
yelling voices or noisy, tanks clattering approach.

Johnny swiftly knelt onto his knees after kicking burning cinders away from
her hair with his feet and he peeled off a glove to grope at the angle of her 
neck for a carotid. Frowning, he groped again, digging deeper. Finally..."She's 
alive. But her pulse's very weak and thready."

Roy let out the breath he was holding as he carefully started untangling her limbs
enough for them to log roll Dixie onto her back to look for life threatening injuries past
the unconsciousness and for a quick listen and feel for signs of adequate breathing.

But then, a belching roar of fire suddenly vomited expansively out of the supply room 
along the ceiling over their heads, making the two masked paramedics immediately
duck to cover their heads and torsos over Dixie's smoking body.  

A full sized monster oxygen cylinder gave way and blew up, shooting 
through the ceiling, on fire.

"Let's get her out of here!" Gage gasped. "Before another one of those
tanks works loose, falls, and fires at us like a rocket!"

Swiftly, they pushed bits of ceiling and gas cylinder chains off 
the shattered door that had impacted outwards into Dixie, and gently, they 
eased her in a safe spine line onto it for use as an improvised emergency 
stretcher. A few seconds later, they jog carried her lying on it, to the safety 
of the T junctured hallway. They both settled onto the floor over her instantly
then, so they could get back on McCall's head for a more thorough breathing 
check.

Roy opened her airway further with a modified jaw thrust. "She's still doing it." 
he said, studying the slight rise and fall of her stained uniform's chest. He 
quickly placed his air mask over McCall's face in a clean air offering. "No 
coughing though."

"That's far better than being dead, Roy. Count your blessings. Dixie?" Gage 
prompted, feeling up McCall's arms and legs for fractures or major bleeding. 
"Can you hear me? It's Johnny Gage. We've just found you in the lab."

She didn't respond to him, not even to a pain check.

DeSoto got on the HT. "Squad 51 to Engine 51. We found our victim! 
She's deeply unconscious and in severe shock. We're in the south corridor, 
thirty yards and ninety degrees left from our exterior stairway."

##Sending in a stokes backup team now!## Hank replied over the radio.

Roy was about to insert an oral airway into Dixie's mouth from his jacket's pocket,
so they could leave with her without the worry of a tongue/airway obstruction, 
when a fierce cascade of explosions from behind, rocked them both off of their 
knees. 

It also caused the corridor's ceiling to start raining thickly down in pieces 
around them. 
 
Sickeningly, a lightweight truck from the parking lot above slid into the gaping 
hole newly made in the ceiling, and pinned all three of them underneath a vast
debris pile of rafters and the Ford's smouldering gasoline tank, now impact jarred
free of the sunken 4 X 4.
 
The two paramedics didn't even have time enough to scream as the vehicle
came tumbling down in a massive roar of dirt and shattered cement 
blocks.

--------------------------------------------------------------
 
 Photos:  None.

***************************************************
From: "finiterider" <finiterider@yahoo.com> 
Date: Sun Nov 20, 2005  9:03 pm 
Subject: Two Bulls in a China Shop.


Kel Brackett was beside himself with more than just
a little worry for Nurse Dixie McCall. He was so preoccupied
with listening to the fire department scanner over the main
ER desk for any word about her, that he never heard the 
soft tread of Dr. Fred Hathaway arrive until a gentle hand 
set onto his shoulder.

"Kel?"

"What?!" Brackett startled, whirling on the seat of his stool. He also 
bumped his elbow smartly against the cardiac telemetry monitor in a 
sharp crack. "Ouch! GaaHHhh !  D*mmit! Now I've done it.." and he curled 
fingers around it and locked his body up in a grimace from the arm pain.

Fred immediately stabilized his coworker's elbow in a concerned
automatic surgeon's reflex. "Ooo, geesh. I'm sorry, Kel. I should've 
given warning ahead of time. I know how keyed up you get during a 
blitz like this. Let me take a look at that." he offered in a not-a-question
tone.

Dr. Brackett ...reluctantly, ...rolled up his sleeve. "It's not your fault, Fred.
I should know better than to let myself get that way in the first place."
he sighed. His irritation put gravel into his voice and all degrees of
his trademark gruffness. "Feels like just a knock on the nerve. It's nothing."
he deflected falsely.

Fred softly checked the bony structures of Brackett's elbow and 
eased the joint through a small range of motions. He stopped when Kel's
face twisted tightly. "Pretty unfunny for just a funny bone, Kel. You're ballooning
up here transversely......  I think.. " he said, feeling around carefully. "..that you 
actually ...managed to dislocate this, my friend."

"No way.." Brackett looked up, fiercely. 

But Fred noticed that he didn't move his arm an inch. He watched as five 
shades of red shot through his coworker's face in utter mortification. 
It made him instantly want to remedy things.
"I can reduce it before it stiffens on you.." Dr. Hathaway said, ducking
down in equal confidence, keeping low so no one would discover the
situation with Kel's arm.

"Fred, I can't leave now. Are you insane?!" Kel whispered so no one
would notice them and his present embarrassing difficulty.

"I'm a surgeon specialist, remember? I don't need a surgical ward or tools
to realign a dislocated elbow." And with that, Fred took hold of Kel's armpit
and forearm and gave it a practiced, firm jerk that literally picked Brackett
up off of the stool. A bright jolt of pain shot across Kel's eyes but then,
the agony was gone. Just like that. It was as if the arm had never been
injured. 

Kel blinked then, suddenly aware of Fred holding him upright by the 
shoulders, waiting patiently until Kel got his full senses back.

"Need a few smelling salts, Mr."Fainter"?" whispered Fred.

"No." Kel spat acidly, whipping his repaired arm away from Fred. "I'm
fine!.. Uh,.. thank you. Your trademark trick still works like a charm. Now go
get me some coffee and tell me why you're down here." he said, changing 
the subject swiftly with some real anger.

Fred got the fortifying drink promptly. He set it down before Kel whom he
knew wasn't about to take sips from it.
"You know why. I came down here to find out about a mutual acquaintance
of ours. You know her. She's got blonde hair, an absolutely stunning smile 
with a pure saxophone silky voice to match?" 

Kel pretended ignorance as he turned up the volume of the fire scanner
to drown out Fred's voice. He remained stonily silent, clearly displeased
with being in such close proximity to his companion.

Fred kept going relentlessly, still mild and cheerful. "Am I ringing a bell? 
She's got a five letter word for a first name beginning with a D and ending 
with an--"

That was quite enough for Kelly Brackett. He turned and pegged his
best glare of full fledged professional irritation that wasn't professional
in the slightest in actual reality. "Fred. Let's get straight to the point,
shall we? I don't know anything yet. Would I have both ears glued 
to the L.A. county fire monitor if I knew the slightest scrap of anything 
at all?"

"No. I guess you wouldn't." Fred agreed. But then he changed the subject.
"I thought we were friends, Kel. So I was the one Dixie turned to after she
left you. So what? It's no big deal. I'm also standing in the dumped beau
line right after you, so lighten up a little. Let's put our mutual emotional 
differences aside and worry about posturing later after we find out whether
or not the woman we still both have some feelings for is still in the land 
of the living, all right?"

Kel said nothing.

"I'm sure Joe Early would have a lot to say about how we're behaving right
now if he were here. I may have fixed Joe's heart but he sure knows the state
of the two of ours concerning Dixie I'll just bet."

Dr. Brackett sighed hugely, groping at some ghosting humility.
"You're right. We're acting like a couple of kids in the school sandbox." 
he said, rising to fiddle yet again with the empty patient information clipboard 
waiting on the table for the first paramedic team's call from the base station. 
"I'm just disgusted that it took something bad happening to Dixie in order to 
get us in the same place at the same time, in the same room together, Fred. 
Don't you feel that way, too?"

"I do." Fred said, biting his lip, looking suddenly vulnerable for the first time.

Kel met his eyes in a matching look, mirroring the same emotion. "Care
to go out there for me and poke around a little after her?"

"In a heartbeat." said the cardiovascular surgeon with a grin. "I'll keep
her safe after they get her to us, and I'll tell you absolutely everything I'm 
doing for her treatment wise while I'm doing it, ok?"

"I'm holding you to that. As doctor to doctor. " Kel said pointing a finger 
up in emphasis.

"Consider it done. After all, you're the boss." 

And with that, Fred was gone.

-------------------------------------------------------------------------

Photos: None.

***************************************************
From: Sam Iam <lafddispatcher@yahoo.com> 
Date: Wed Nov 23, 2005  1:11 pm 
Subject: The Different Eye 


Chet Kelly came running. "Cap! Cap!" he shouted.

Hank Stanley felt an instant stab of dread even before he
addressed his man about what the problem was. "Kelly!
Why aren't you on the stokes crew assignment for Roy 
and Johnny's new victim?"

"Infrastructure's collapsed right over their position." he
panted, sweating profusely. Only then did Stanley see that
the curly haired fireman was coated with plaster dust and
insulation fibers. "We were almost there when a truck in
the parking lot melted through the ceiling."

"You guys got water going into there?"

"Yeah. Marco and Stoker are fanning the pile right now 
through the asphalt."

"Ok, I'll get the chief." Hank told him, patting Chet on the
shoulder while he leaned over and hacked up pulverized
building material from his mouth and throat. "When you're
set, head back there to dig them all out." Cap ordered
as he toggled his HT. "Engine 51 to Battalion 14. Emergency! 
Cave in at HT 51's location. Thirty yards south of a ninety from 
their ground point entry, going left. We're gonna need all the man 
power we can get for an underground operation. Our possible total 
victim number trapped is a count of three. Two are Code I.  
Note that ample water cover is in place."

##10-4, Engine 51. I'll route personnel your way a.s.a.p.
Stand fast at your posting to give the arriving crews 
details of your situation.##

"10-4, Battalion 14. Engine 51 out."

Soon, L.A.'s tones sounded out the upgrade alert over every walkie
talkie and truck radio in the area. ##L.A. to Station 36 and Engine
10 : 10-19 the southern exposure with Engine 51. Multiple trapped 
victims have been reported underground. Situation : Code I plus 
one. Time out. 13:56.##

Hank was grateful for the dispatcher's hint that firefighters were
involved. ::That'll make them arrive that much faster to me.::
Captain Stanley turned to where he could see Chet Kelly, Marco
Lopez and Mike Stoker clustered over the gaping smoking hole
in the middle of the parking lot, raining a thick fan of water down
into it, trying to suppress the active flames they could see erupting
from around the rear bumper of the truck sticking out of the hole.

He looked at his watch and saw that there was only two minutes left 
on his mental countdown. After that, the air in both Johnny and Roy's 
bottles would run out and they would both fall into serious breathing 
shortage rapidly. ::Why didn't I tell Johnny to take in the spare scba 
tanks with him going back in?:: Then another voice in his head told 
him the reason why coolly. ::Because you knew that they had Dixie 
McCall to find. Don't be surprised that you'd get absolutely the fastest 
way to rescue such a close friend in that kind of danger involving
some risk. It's only natural. :: said his conscience. ::You're still doing
your job properly.::

Hank hated that inner voice. It took away the guilt he wanted to feel
just then and it sounded a lot like his wife's voice the more he thought 
about it. Then the emotional pain truly gripped him. :: Roy's wife will be 
devastated if she thought I let anything happen to her husband.:: That
put fear deep into his chest. He lifted his HT again, quickly.
"Engine 51 to Battalion 14. Uh,.. CIS channel?"

##Switching over.## replied Battalion 14.

Captain Stanley fidgetted until he heard his chief come over the new
private frequency. 

##What's up, Hank?##

"Chief, I read last month that Ladder Nine was trial testing a new
device that reads heat. Do they have one with them now?"

##That just might be a winning ticket, captain. I had forgotten about
that thing. I'll send them straight away. Get that hallway your men 
used cooled down well so the image contrasts will be cleaner. ##

"Copy that, chief. Thanks."

##No, thank you. That was original thinking, the kind that 
always saves lives. I still think you're wasted at the captain's level. 
Don't turn down the next promotion when it comes, Hank. I'd still love
to have you wearing the white before I retire. ##

"I've got a year to think about it. You're not sixty four yet, sir."

##Good luck with the IR camera. I'll be crossing my fingers
behind my back. All of them.##

Cap grinned. "Engine 51 out, switching back to main channel."

Hank got the fire companies newly assigned to him, cracking,
when they appeared a short time later.

------------------------------------------------------------------------

Photo:  A firefighter with an infrared imaging camera.

***************************************************
From: "Cassidy Meyers" <killashandraRey@hotmail.com> 
Date: Wed Nov 23, 2005  9:26 pm 
Subject: The Inactive Action..  


Dr. Hathaway made his way around the barricades marking the
boundaries of the hot zone until he came to the triage center.
Already, he could see seventeen or eighteen being treated.

None of them, was Dixie.

He turned to the nearest doctor he saw; Dr. Morton.
"Mike, you got things in hand here?" he asked with his
voice. But outwardly, his eyes were still casting about for
the lost Nurse McCall. ::Oh, my G*d. Where is she?:: his
mind raced. ::Why are things taking so long?::

"Yeah, pretty much. Did Kel send you for an update?" the
blue jumpsuited resident asked.

"Something like that." he evaded and quickly stepped around
a young woman being treated for smoke inhalation. Before the
young doctor could ask Fred more, Hathaway walked swiftly
away from him towards his next target, Dr. Joe Early.

"Joe, what have they told you so far about Dixie? Have they located
her yet?"

Dr. Early looked up from the leg he was splinting on the orderly
that Johnny Gage had rescued from the laboratory tunnels. "Not yet.
But things have just gotten worse. There's been a cave-in reported."

"A cave-in?! Oh, Joe.. I've got to get over there!"

"Good luck crossing the fire line." said Early, not even looking up. 
"I already tried that, until my sense of duty about taking care of these 
casualties got the better of me."

"I want to help, Joe. But just over there. How can they turn down a doctor's 
help? They'll listen to me, I'm sure of it. I know the lay out of the labs. 
They can do things my way. I just want to offer them another opinion."

Joe turned on the EKG monitor that he had hooked up on the moaning 
orderly and he started studying it intently. "I'm sure that the fire department 
will set you straight instantly if you try to take matters into your own hands."

Fred sighed, running fingers through his hair. "Don't you care about Dixie?"

Joe Early looked up with a flash of fury. "Of course I do. We all do, Hathaway.
But first we have an obligation to fulfill here. And if that means providing triage
for the fire department then by G*d, I'll provide it, because that's our job and
oathsworn responsibility now by all hospital procedural duty and definition."

"Not mine. Kel ordered me to..." Fred flickered a few agitated fingers. 
" ....snoop around and investigate a little. So I'm not going to let him down. 
Or her either, for that matter." he growled defensively.

Joe glared at Hathaway fiercely.

"Call me if you get a critical." Fred sniffed with an angry frown, holding up his 
triage radio. "It's too bad us surgeons have to wait around for orders and 
surgical case approval from one of you guys first before working 
any. But hey, triage handles life threats before scheduling those patients' 
operations, right?"

Joe remained mute. A part of him wanted Fred to be his eyes, too. For Dixie's
sake.

"See you later." said Fred finally. He dashed off into the smoke. "I'll be careful."

Ben Llewellyn, working a short distance away, bandaging a young lab technician's
head, said. "That was brainless." he told Joe.

"How so? I warned him." Joe insisted.

"Yeah, but you didn't stop him." said the crusty, blue haired doctor.

Whispering softly to himself, Joe Early looked up into the direction Fred
had disappeared, with tears filling his eyes. "I couldn't."

Down in another casualty row, having overheard the tale end of the 
conversation, Dr. Morton became pure fire. "I would've! Now we'll
all get into trouble for letting him go! So much for swearing to watch out
for each other my fine, fanciful colleagues. I'm utterly embarrassed
and ashamed to think that the fire department is a whole h*ll of a lot
better at it than we are."

Joe thought he had a backup plan. "We could always call him, saying
that a hospital administrator's ordered him to return."

"With what, son?" snorted Dr. Llewellyn. "Fred's left his radio on top of the 
crash cart over there."

"Are you sure?"

"Are two doctors always doomed to fall in love with the same nurse?"
murmured Ben.

Joe Early left his victim's side for a moment to pick it up to confirm
the name engraved on its bottom surface. 

It was Hathaway's.

-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Photos: None.

**************************************************
From: "Roxy Dee" <laterrapincabesa@hotmail.com> 
Date: Wed Nov 23, 2005  9:45 pm 
Subject: The Opposite of Fire Is~~ 

There was the sound of quiet coughing echoing in the darkness.

After images started burning Roy's retinas before he realized
that he had come to. "Dixie?!"  He struggled up from where
he lay crumpled flat on his back.  A jolt of pain through a trapped
leg, stopped him. ::Something's pinned me.:: he thought, reaching
in the murk for his feet. A searing hot gas tank branded his gloves.
"Ahh!" He whipped his hands away and lay still once more, listening
to the noises around him.

To his left, he could hear breathing, about three feet away from
his right elbow. Then DeSoto realized that the weight on his stomach 
was Johnny's face. "Johnny?" he gasped, pulling off his face mask
when the low air alarm started going off.

The electronic howler awoke his partner, who flinched and immediately
grunted when he found his legs pinned, too. Roy held him still with both 
gloves.  "You ok?"

"Yeah,...I think so..*cough*."

"Gimme your mask, mine's through.." he croaked. "Gimme a breath,
then let's shine our lights around us to look for Dixie."

Gage moved into immediate motion as full recent memory of McCall's 
condition, returned. "Where is she?" he said, pressing the air mask
to Roy's face so he could get some relief from the smoke.

"I hear her breathing to my right. *cough* It's labored. Liquidy."
Roy said hoarsely, sucking in the fresh air from Gage's bottle 
greedily.

"We gotta flip her over. Can you reach her?" Johnny gasped,
taking the mask back for himself.

Roy sobbed, feeling the full extent of pain from what felt like a snapped ankle.
"Ugh!... No. Neither can you. Both of us have a full gas tank and half
a ton of rafters lying across the lower halves of our bodies."

"We gotta do something, or she'll choke in a few minutes on that blood."
Johnny said, aiming his penlight onto Dixie's pale face from where he
and his partner lay tangled in the beams from the ceiling.

Roy looked around their small enclosed space carefully. "I've got
an idea."

"What?" panted Johnny, laying a dizzy head back down onto Roy's
hip so he'd wouldn't be a burden to his breathing.

"G-Give me....your belt."  Roy told him. "I've already got mine off."

"What are ya gonna do?" Johnny said, squinting as he kept watching
Dixie's respirations.

"Fusebox.."

Johnny grunted, feeling where the tremendous weight of the vehicle
pressing down onto them, had him trapped. "I don't get it."

"We shut off the master switch and we ...earn the ability to crank up
the ..." Roy grimaced when a spasm shot through his leg. "..oxygen in 
the room. This is a surgical supply store, remember?" he smiled
weakily. He shook his head to clear it.

"I'm stupid. DuhHHhh. Can you reach one of those cylinders?"

"My head's lying on one." Roy grinned, tapping it with a knuckle
so Johnny would hear. "The regulator key's in my hand. But first..."

"Yeah, I know we gotta get the power off.. so sparking risk's minimized."

Roy tried to laugh but nothing came out."You're worried about 
us causing some with all this open flame around?"

"Do you see any fire, Roy? It's pitch back in here. That last explosion
must have snuffed it out."

"Wondered why I couldn't ....see too well." Roy drowsed. "Don't
think my vision's clear enough for your belt buckle tossing idea, 
Johnny."

"I'll do it.." he said tightly. "I'm more awake than you. Hyperventilate
on that and then hold your breath. I'm gonna need the mask for a bit 
while I try to snag the handle of that utility box. Keep an ear on 
Dixie. Her breathing rate's picking up into the crisis range."

Roy gorged on the mask's flowing air and passed it over.

---------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Stars were parading thickly across his vision from hypoxia when
he felt Johnny push the mask back over his nose and mouth. He felt
his chin get tipped up until he had a clear passage through which
to breathe.

"Roy? I did it. Get your senses back. You get the last of the scba's
supply. It's got thirty seconds left. Then crank on that O2 full blast when
you can. Dixie's up to twenty four a minute."

Roy's limbs felt like pure lead and it was impossible to respond.

"Roy? Can you hear me?"
 
He felt Johnny's hand push under his jacket to rest on his stomach,
monitoring him.

DeSoto finally answered him with a cough as the last feeble stream
of waning air from the face plate revived him somewhat. "Sorry. ....
lost track for...a few seconds."

"The air's bad in here. My guess is that it's only from a lack of 02. The 
explosion used it all up in those flares. Doesn't help that I shut
off the ventilation system when I deactivated the power in that fuse box. 
Come on, you gotta get that done now before we both black out."

Stubbornly, Johnny refused the mask Roy try to hand back to him with
a firm grip. He held his partner's eyes with a no nonsense look about
it until DeSoto gathered up the strength he needed to lift up his arms.

Roy reached over his head. His hands were bloody and shaking.
::Is this from me? Or from Johnny? Dixie wasn't bleeding that badly from 
her tongue bite.:: Gasping hugely, he managed to turn the valve on the E 
tank until it was wide open and it started pouring out its pure, cool oxygen.

Immediately, clarity returned to both paramedics.

Roy's pain doubled and so did Johnny's, but together, he and Gage
shifted the green cylinder's weight on the gravel debris lying 
underneath them until it was shooting out the oxygen gas right
over Dixie's liberally fire ashed head.

They both began shouting to grab the first of her attention.

Dixie emitted a single, weak cough a minute later, finally reacting 
to their shouts of encouragement. "Dixie? Wake up! Listen to us. 
Breathe deeper! You're way too shallow to do any good." DeSoto 
said loudly.

Dixie's suffocation struggles grew as she began to panic in
her half state. Stronger and stronger, she flailed her limbs.
Then they began to weaken and she started turning a deeper blue.

"No.." Roy yelled, trying to reach McCall with either hand. 
He failed. "Dixie....!"

Gage got an idea and took up a length of splintered wood. He began to
poke her in the shoulder firmly. "Dixie! Come on now! You need to roll 
over onto your side. You've got to get rid of all that cr*p in your mouth or 
you'll start to breathe it all in."

Dixie's index finger lifted an inch, involuntarily, under their penlights.

"Dixie! Do I have to leave bruises?!" Johnny yelled, losing his temper.

He was about to smack her across the hand with the flat of the board
when Dixie gasped. Adrenaline finally made her jerk and flip
over onto her face. She landed inches away from the oxygen tank's
nozzle and the sharp breeze from it started bringing her around.
The sounds she began uttering were only half nonsensical noises. 

The other half was a healthy bout of swearing. "@#$%!*&" said Dixie.

Roy and Johnny began to smile only then and they both fell back 
onto the ground with a complete sense of relief. 

Vocalizing was a good sign in anybody. 

They began to watch her closely as she recovered from almost 
drowning from her tongue's bite wound. A large amount of mouth 
blood trickled in a stream from between her teeth, to land sizzling 
in the embers underneath her that were glowing brightly in the 
oxygen stream.

"Feel like talking now?" Johnny asked her a few minutes later.

McCall didn't answer.

"Come on, I won't bite. You already did that to yourself so I
won't, I promise. How's the tongue doing? Are you still bleeding
out badly?"

Dixie stayed quiet, sucking in the rich oxygen gratefully. 

Johnny started up again. "I know you can hear me, Dixie.
Your eyes are twitching."
 
Dixie sighed without opening them. "Get...me...out.. of here. NOW."
she said quietly, because of the intense pain still shooting through 
her head.

"Sorry, we can't really oblige ya. You see, uh, Roy
and I both have a truck lying on top of our legs..."

That made Dixie pick up her head. "What?! A truck? How
did th--OhhhHHH!" She immediately set it back down again 
when a sharp wave of dizziness sent a gush of vomit into her 
throat. She spat it out, turned away from her rescuers, and
impatiently waited for the bout of nausea to recede.

It finally did.

"How's your back and neck? We've already guessed about
the concussion.." Gage said.

"I'm ok that way." Dixie swallowed dryly. "Why isn't Roy talking
any more?"

Johnny glanced over at his partner. Roy was dozing, but his 
skin remained warm and dry under Johnny's touch. "He's tired.
That's all. He got our oxygen supply going so give him a break."
Gage said grimacing, laying his head back down onto Roy's
upper leg. 

The nurse in Dixie started reappearing. "Speaking of circulation,
how's it in you guys below both your waists?"

"If I didn't know you better, I'd be taking that as a distinct attempt
at a pass, Dixie." Johnny joked, trying to get a rise out of her.

"Really? You're not my type. I reserve all my flirting strictly 
for men of the white coat persuasion, Mr. Paramedic."

"Huh. Figured that one out years ago. Kel's one h*ll of a lucky guy."

Dixie didn't deign to correct him on exactly where her love life stood
just then. "Seriously, Johnny. Will you answer my question? I don't 
want to have to worry about anyone but myself here, ok?"

She heard Gage sigh, trying to hide a cry of pain.
"I can feel everything, down to my toes.*gasp* I assume he can, too. 
Or he would've mentioned that he didn't."

"There's a small mercy. Do they know we're down here?"

"Yes. Roy got out our position before the second explosion
separated us from both our walkie talkies."

"Any bleeding on you two?" she asked.

"Nope. Just scratches."

"Spinal injuries?"

"None."

"Broken bones?"

"Uh,...let's leave that one for the attending once we're outta here."

"Johnny.." Dixie warned. 

"I ...don't know.  I can't reach Roy's lower half to find out and he
can't reach mine. You wouldn't happen to be free from debris enough
to check on that for us, would you?"

"I.. think I am. But there's this little problem called vertigo happening."

"Oh. In that case, never mind. Prop your head up onto
that tank. You need to keep it up with a head injury."

"Practice what you preach. I can see the bruise on your forehead
from here." Dixie said. "Lemme spend half a year crawling over
to you and I'll help you keep an eye on Roy's pulse. I can do that
at least. It doesn't require me to keep my eyes open."

"Lazy." Johnny kidded her.

"No, I'm just honest enough to acknowledge my current limitations."

A sharp hiss and a sudden shift of settling weight made the metal 
of the fire heated truck in the ceiling groan sickeningly.

Roy's eyes shot open when something pressed down even harder
on his thighs. "Ow. Ow. Ow.. sh*t!" he writhed. Then he closed his
eyes, and let a string of profanity gush out freely. "Of course it 
would be me get the lowest end of the truck's bumper on my lap."
he hissed. "Hurry up, gang, if you know what's good for you.." he grunted,
throwing up a look at the ceiling in the direction of the working firefighters
he thought he heard digging down to their chamber.

"Hey, nap boy. Morning..." Dixie joked, waving a weak hand at him in
the dimness. "Guess who's awake?"

Roy cracked an eye open and waved back. "Oh, it worked? Hi Dixie.
Excuse me while I vent a little m---" and he choked out another bout
of bad language. It faded into a soft moan when light shock finally 
came to give him relief.

"I think your run of trucker mouth was better, Dixie. It had more class."
Gage chuckled as he took Roy's pulse while he worked through
the increased change in pain. It began to speed up. Johnny frowned 
and looked at Roy's face. Cold sweat was beginning to bead on his 
forehead. "Roy? Are you hurt worse than just your legs?"

"I think ....something's in ......my lower back. I can feel it when I breathe."
Then he blacked out.

"Roy?" Johnny said, getting a grip on Roy's neck pulse. "Roy?! Can
you hear me?"

DeSoto didn't reply. 

"D*mn it!" Johnny said. He immediately reached into his partner's jacket
pocket for one of the oral airways he knew Roy kept in there for rescues. 
He bit off its plastic wrap and used it on him. "I knew something wasn't going
right with him."

Dixie started dragging herself over to the two firefighters, fighting nausea
the whole way. "Dig." she said with urgency. "Let's dig a hole under him
and see what it is. Maybe it's just something he's lying on."

"All right.." said Gage evenly, seriously. "But the moment you get tired,
I want you to stop. I don't want you overexerting yourself. I'm still kicking
myself for letting him do the same thing by letting him crack open that 
oxygen tank without checking him out first."

"We were suffocating, Johnny. Time wasn't yours to waste."

"Well, now it most definitely isn't either. Hey!!" he began to shout, picking up
the ripped up board to hammer it soundly on a pitch angled wall near him. 
"We're right here! Hurry up! H---" Agony from his left leg locked Johnny up.

"Johnny. Quit that. Serves you right. You're a trauma victim, too, whether
you want to be one or not. So shut up." Dixie ordered.

Gage smiled from the ground where he had curled up around his pinned
leg. "Now I know you're getting better. You're beginning to sound more 
like the Dixie I know."

"Speak for yourself."

"I thought I was doing that." Johnny said, loosening up Roy's jacket and 
collar from around his throat. "Here, take this board. Use it to deflect some 
of that oxygen stream Roy's way. I want it in his face."

"Think it'll wake him up like it did me?"

"There's always hoping." Gage said sharply. Then he looked up at
the dark hole above them again. "I wonder what's taking them so long
to get through to us. It's not that far up to the parking lot's level from here."

In answer, a falling pipe of drinking water, the lab's two foot diameter water 
main, fell down over their heads, rupturing wide open. Hundreds of gallons 
of water began to bounce off the roof of the mangled truck and onto the 
three trapped below.

The water began to rise rapidly around them, filling up the hallway.

-------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Photos: None.

***************************************************
From: "patti *mimic*" <pattik1@hotmail.com> 
Date: Fri Nov 25, 2005  4:47 pm 
Subject: Morpheus Effect.. 

Dixie let out a startled scream. "What's happening? Is this
from a fire hose?"

"No, there's too much of it. I think this is from a subterranean water main!
Don't you smell the chlorine?" said Johnny. 

Dixie nodded that she could.

"Reach him, Dixie. Cover Roy's face with his air mask. He can't protect 
his own airway from all this water while he's unconscious like this."

Grunting, Dixie shifted on her stomach, until she got a hold of 
the emptied scba bottle. She began using its face plate like
an umbrella , holding it over DeSoto's nose and mouth
to start deflecting away the cascading water. 
"I got him." she coughed, shaking frigid streams from her eyes 
like a wet dog. The cold of it drove away the last of the nausea she 
was feeling and surrealistic terror took over. Oddly enough, McCall
felt her brain begin to function. "Johnny. Use the water! It's softening 
the debris layer underneath him."

"I know. I'm already down here." he grunted, digging under Roy's hip
and lower back with both muddy gloves. "I'm gonna try to free him first."

Dixie helped him with a heel of her foot. 
"Is he really stabbed on top of something?" she gasped, struggling to keep 
the air mask off of Roy's face even while the falling water tried to beat it 
down forcefully.

Gage didn't answer, coughing in whistling, frightened gasps while he
dug a hole underneath DeSoto, using his penlight for illumination.
The dull gleam of an opaque white cylinder revealed itself, etched with 
familiar horizontal black lines. It was stuck vertically down from Roy's back.  
"It's a 100 ml syringe of some kind. The needle's impaled him and 
it's partially full of something."

"Get it out!" McCall quailed. 

Johnny didn't like the idea of disturbing an object inside of Roy's
lower abdomen, but the thought of whatever that solution was, injecting 
more of itself into him, was too much to bear. Slowly, he pulled out syringe's
embedded needle carefully; straight down, and back out the way it had 
come. One inch, two inches, three... Finally, the end of it pulled clear.
"This looks like a bicarb needle, Dix. It's six inches long." he said, 
holding it up quickly into the light of his flashlight. He snapped the sharp 
lance's hub off and threw it away violently.

"It looks like an anesthetic." she said taking it from him to study it. 
"A lot like one of the preps they use before doing spinal punctures." 

"I'm saving this then." Gage said, stuffing it into his turnout pocket.
He knew it would have to be analyzed to discover what drug it contained.
"How's he doing?"

"Still breathing. But it's very slow, shallow."

"That might be because of all this oxygen saturating the air.
He's still pink enough."

Dixie coughed, thinking of an idea. "Give me your penlight."

Johnny handed it over, barely able to reach Dixie's hand far enough
to do it.

Dixie flattened herself over Roy, using her body to shield him from 
the raining water burst, and ran its beam over Roy's pupils, checking 
each in turn without disturbing the lay of his oral airway. "They're 
pinpricked, nonreactive."

"So it's a narcotic working on him." Gage sighed. "It fits his symptoms.
Let's hope he didn't get enough for an overdose or he'll lose all vital 
signs eventually." he said with dismay. 

"All three of us might suffer that if this water gets any higher. I can feel
that it's almost up to his ears already, Johnny." Dixie grunted, struggling
to keep the scba mask over DeSoto's head. "We've got to hurry."

The two of them began to dig out from underneath the fallen truck even 
faster, shouting for help as loud as they could at the hole that was flooding
them out rapidly.

-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Photos : None.

**************************************************
From: Patti or Jeff or Cassidy <theaterhost@voyagerliveaction.com> 
Date: Sun Nov 27, 2005  7:44 pm 
Subject: To Dixie.. With Love..  


Marco Lopez looked up from where he and Chet were
washing down the sinkhole in Rampart's parking lot
when a portion of it suddenly collapsed again; the
fire glow that they could see, turning into more steam 
than their own water cover could account for. "Chet!
Substrate's shifted! We've got a pipe burst! Get back!"

They staggered backwards in a panic as the tarred ground 
beneath their feet gave way before them. They both fell 
onto their backs and were immediately helped to their feet 
again by fire crews so their hose wouldn't get away from them.
They both fumbled until they could man the nozzle again, enough
to shut it off.

Running back to the new edge of the subsidence in between
the parked cars, Lopez stretched himself out onto the ground,
peering down, "Johnny?! Roy?" he shouted into his walkie 
talkie on the squad's band. 

There was no reply. Only the sound of tons of water 
escaping infrastructure at high speed. He nodded to Stoker
to report the change.

51's engineer spoke quickly with Battalion 14 and filled him in.

##Engine 51, is Ladder Nine setting up at your position?##

Mike looked up and saw a team from the city in yellow opening
up a high tech, foam cushioned equipment case. "That's affirmative."

##Hang tight. I have a couple of Rampart's designers here with me.
We'll work out exactly what water main's involved and try to get it
shut off a.s.a.p.. Note your stable ground and get a vertical wench
situated.## ordered the chief.

"10-4.." Stoker affirmed.  He rapidly got what he wanted and clusters
of helping hands set up the rapid access tripod and pulley over
the hole.

A new voice interjected through the chatter of the firemen as they checked
and rechecked their set up. "Let me through! I'm from triage. We
need an update on your situation."  It was Fred Hathaway. "What's
happening? Why aren't your people going down there to start digging?"

Marco rose from where he crouched next to Stoker and Kelly who were
threading lines into the portable winching gear and hooking up lifebelts
and stokes to it. "Hey, not so close. The ground isn't safe here." Lopez
cautioned holding up a damp glove.

Fred used his greater height to peer over Marco's helmet. "How bad is it?"
the surgeon asked. "We heard the tunnel ceiling gave way."

"Mister, we're about to get your staff nurse out of there." Kelly told him.
"We're gonna peg her position with an infrared reader and then get
our team down. She's not alone. Believe me when I tell you that. Johnny 
and Roy, our paramedics, are simply the best in the business and they're 
right down there with her. "

"Wait a minute, that stuff coming out of the hole's not fire smoke. That's a
water vapor cloud!" It was only then that the blonde haired surgeon smelled
pipeline moisture. Fred panicked, instantly understanding that the firemen 
were dealing with a rapidly rising flood, and flames no longer. 
::Dixie!:: Fred quailed. "Somebody, get down there now!" he said, pressing
nearer. "They're drowning! Let me over there!"

Stoker grabbed his shoulders. "Doctor! Stay put!" he growled. "You're not
going anywhere. Let these people do their job. Your interference isn't helping
matters.." he told Fred as they grappled.

Vince Howard, manning the public traffic away from the rescue site, looked
up. "Is that man causing you a problem?" he asked Kelly and Lopez from
his traffic directing post.

Fred pushed away from Stoker's grip, throwing his hands up in surrender.
"No problem officer. I was just.....leaving." said Hathaway, and he put his
hands into his triage tunic's pockets. Fred strode away, weaving in between
cars in the parking lot in a general direction back towards the triage hanger.

As he had hoped, the firemen's attention fell away from him and back to
the rescue ongoing over the pavement collapse site. He saw a firefighter
lift up some sort of camera to an eye, looking through the billowing water
fog.

Hathaway immediately ducked behind a large van and made his way
over to the south entrance of the lab building. As he suspected, there weren't
any fire personnel over there anymore. All were at the hole, helping out
with the active rescue team at the winch.

Slyly, Hathaway uptook one of the spare air bottles Gage had 
left at the top of the stairs and put it on. Then he took hold of the end of 
Johnny's safety rope that was still tied off on the underground stairway's 
banister and Fred began following it down into the tunnel, feeling his way
by touch in the steamy darkness.

No one saw him go in.

--------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Gage was still digging around Roy's legs. It was harder, since everything
was now under two and a half feet of water.

Dixie was holding Roy's head up against her chest. "Johnny! Hurry. I can't
sit him up any higher." she sputtered. Rushing water was now up to her chin.
And Roy's neck.

"I'm going as fast as I can." Gage said, taking another huge breath. He dove
underwater and swam under the truck again to chop with his knife's blade once 
more around the plastic truck bumper still stubbornly trapping his partner's legs. 
He rose for another gasping breath."Keep getting his face out of the water!  
I've almost got him free."

Johnny's own foot, had been easy to untangle. The water had acted as
a lubricant, softening his shoe's leather. Cutting it away was all that
had been needed to rescue himself from the debris pile's grip. Now, he was
working frantically to save Roy.

A wave of dizziness swept through Dixie and her fingers slipped on Roy's
skin. His head slid off her shoulder into the water. With a cry of dismay, Dixie
thrashed about with her arms, searching for him in a blind panic.

"I got him!" said a new voice.

Dixie gasped and startled when she suddenly felt strong arms supporting Roy's
heavy weight. She knew immediately who it was. "Fred! Get him up! Get him up!
He can't maintain his own airway. He's been drugged."

The doctor grunted, lifting, until Roy's nose and mouth reappeared at the 
surface of the water. The paramedic gasped involuntarily then, through his 
unconsciousness, and they watched as he started to breathe again in the rich 
oxygenated air. 

"OhmyG*d, How'd you get down here?" Dixie said, returning DeSoto's head
to her shoulder. "Are the others coming?"

"Not the way I came through." said Fred, blinking in the torrents of water raining
down on them. "It's all submerged now and there's been another ceiling collapse."
he said, slipping behind Dixie to support her back to help her with Roy's
weight. "How's that head of yours?"

"Never mind that. You're very stupid to come down here after me. Johnny's
gonna be p*ssed when he runs out of air down there after digging, comes up,
and finds out about you."

"Who?"

Gage's head burst to the surface and he sucked in huge lungfuls as he shook
the water out of his eyes. "I'm almost done! I think I can get him free this last
try once I catch my br--" he broke off when he realized that Fred was
there. "Dixie? Who's this? A survivor?!  Mister, are you hurt?"

"No, I'm not. Just concentrate on your friend here. Time's wasting. Time that we
just don't have." Hathaway barked. "I'm estimating another minute for
him before the water gets up over his head the rest of the way. Get going!"

Gage didn't try to fathom out the odd look in Dixie's eyes, nor the one on the 
stranger's face. He just took another breath, and dove down again with the 
knife in his teeth.

Roy began bubbling and choking as the water slapped over his chin and 
trickled down his short airway tube. Dixie cried out. "Oh, no."

Fred was firm. "I got his shoulders, Dixie. Let him go. Concentrate on 
helping him by mouth to mouth. Seal him off in between breaths when you 
come up yourself for some. If you get dizzy, let me know and we'll switch 
places." the surgeon shouted."Whatever you do, keep that airway in place, 
it'll prevent tongue spasms."

Dixie nodded in fright and ducked under the water, starting to give Roy quick, 
light breaths after pinching off his nose firmly. She kept going as the water
began to climb higher and higher up her arms. Dixie found that she had to 
pull herself down deeper and deeper each time to reach his lips and
the hard plastic of the tube she was blocking off with her fingers.

Gage burst to the top again, seeing sparkles from the lack of air. He saw
Roy's head had submerged completely and that he was being aided already
by the two Rampart staffers. Hyperventilating by the hissing oxygen bottle's 
underwater bubble stream, Johnny forced himself to recharge his lungs for 
only a few seconds before he dove down one last time to cut free the cloth 
still twisted around Roy's legs.

Above him, the truck settled, sliding down with a groan of tortured metal.
Johnny inchwormed out from under it at the last second with a fist gripping
Roy's pants leg cuffs, dragging both feet out of the way. 

But then a block of ceiling cement impacted him in the small of his back,
pushing Gage face down, onto the submerged floor. 

He began to struggle.

Fred saw the change. "Dixie! Johnny's in trouble. Hold this guy. I'll
be right back." And he porpoised underwater after Gage.

Dixie began shouting. "Fred! .....*gasp* Fred! " But then she had to deliver
Roy's next breath again and that effectively ended her screaming 
out Dr. Hathaway's name.

Johnny grunted as the crushing weight pressed down excruciatingly.
He lost precious air from his lungs as he tried to get his feet under
himself to get out from under it.

Then he felt a pair of hands lift it away and pull him to the water's
surface. "Easy, fireman. You ok now?" asked Fred.

"Now I am. Get back to my partner, Roy. He's free. 
I'm climbing up onto the truck. I hear a winch line and belt coming 
down to us!"

Fred let Johnny go. "Ok, be careful. Try not to fall playing the hero." he
teased. 

Gage flashed him a grin that was only half worry then, for Roy. Soon,
his feet disappeared through the ceiling and above the shattered
waterfalling pipe.

The surgeon waded back over to McCall to cradle her as she worked 
to maintain DeSoto. He was now a near drowning case and not breathing 
on his own even though his face was easily floating on top of the water. 

She told Hathaway why. "He landed on a filled needle, Fred. We don't
know what was in it."

Hathway was soothing to Dixie, to calm her. "Roy's still got a pulse here. 
Need a break yet?"

"No.. just keep holding...........me up. I won't be able to do the same for
you. I'm too weak yet." she gasped, keeping hold of Roy's chin and 
nose.

"Fair enough. Blow harder. It'll push what water got in,.. out of his lungs."
Fred directed. "He's not distending, so don't worry about that."

Dixie was ever grateful for an anesthesiologist's wisdom. It felt strange
being in Fred's arms again and it brought back memories and sensations
that she had long since forgotten. Emotions rising to the foreground made
her start to cry from stress and shock. Her breaths to Roy faltered.

"Shhh, you're doing fine." Fred told her, kissing the top of her head gently,
shielding her from the falling water with his body. "I'll help you count.
One, two, three...four..five.. Breathe.."

Dixie breathed.

She let Fred's voice guide her through her mental haze and fear.
::Roy's not going to die, Johnny. I won't let him.:: she promised.

-----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------


Gage got within arm's reach of Stoker. "Mike! We're here. Lower the rope
farther! Roy's in trouble. He's apneic being assisted. He goes first!"

Stoker bubbled his worry ...and relief.. and started snapping orders. 

Kelly, next to him, frowned as he looked at the IR imager's screen. 
"Johnny, we're reading four heat signatures down there. I thought it 
was just you two and Dixie.."

"Some triage doctor came down after us.." Gage shouted back up.

"That crazy mother---" Vince blew up. He had heard Johnny's comment.
"I'll arrest him as soon as you fellas get his sorry butt back up here!"
he roared.

"Gimme more slack.." Gage said, "And get this stokes outta here. There
isn't the room for it! We'll go with just the belt and pulley. He's hurt his
leg and a foot only."

Chet couldn't contain himself. "How's Dixie?"

"Concussed but fully conscious. She's the one breathing for Roy."

Hank was beside himself. "Oh, L*rd... Need an airway, pal?"

"No, we got one in." said, Gage, guiding the winch lowering cable down
past the truck.  

"That's right. That's probably one from Roy's pockets." Cap said. "I forget 
how much he plans ahead for things like that being an ex Viet Nam medic
like he is. Stoker go grab a resuscitator. Then call a doc to get over
here from triage to manage Roy as a critical. And find another paramedic
team to handle our wounded. Gage isn't going to by himself. I won't allow it."

"Right. Back in two minutes." Mike dashed off.

"Cap!" said Johnny once again from the hole.

"Yeah?"

"Catch this!" Gage said. He tossed up the syringe that he had pulled out of
Roy's back. "Roy got himself stuck on the stuff when the ceiling caved in.
He got a good dose of it, enough to wipe out his breathing. A lab's gonna have
to analyze it so we know how to counteract whatever drug's effecting him."

Hank caught it deftly. "Lopez.. Run. Tell the chief and then make this
your top priority." he told Marco.

Marco took it one step further and radioed ahead about the syringe 
coming to the ER.  "I'll stay with Brackett until he has an answer 
for Johnny. I'll have him radio on it as soon as he knows. And
I'll tell Stoker to bring the rest of gear from the squad with him."

Cap nodded. "Ok, sounds like a plan. Move."

Marco needed no encouragement.

----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Time was standing still. The only thing that seemed to move for
Dixie, was Roy's chest as she made it rise and the gushing water
from the pipe that tried to beat it down again. Even sounds seemed 
to still.

Dimly, she heard voices. Johnny's as he slipped a lifebelt around
DeSoto's waist, and Fred's as he helped the paramedic fireman
ready the winch cable.

She hardly felt Gage place a belt around her own waist and she actually
protested with a short cry when he snugged it tight and accidently
disturbed her rhythm of breaths. She allowed them to put a fire helmet
onto her head after they had Roy rope attached.

"Ok, Dixie. Let me at him. You're about to drop." Gage told McCall.

With an effort, Dixie tried to let go. Her cramped hands didn't want
to fall away from Roy's face...until Fred's warm ones peeled them 
gently off.

Johnny leaned down and hyperventilated Roy a couple of times mouth
to mouth,.. giving him enough oxygen into his system to last for the fast 
winch trip to come through the ceiling. 

Roy's feet and knife shredded pants disappeared up into the hole
and into many firefighter hands.

Fred unexpectedly, shouted. "Fireman, you go next. " the surgeon
told Gage. "I'll get Dixie up. You gotta get up there for your partner's
resuscitation care and to act as a go between sharing info with
everybody about that syringe Roy poisoned himself on."

"I can't leave until you two do. You're crazy!" Johnny told him no 
nonsense.

"Yes you can. I'm a doctor and I'm giving you, as my paramedic,
a direct order. Go. Leave here. I'll assume full responsibility."

"You can't do that."

"Sure I can. I'm not a victim of yours. I came down here of my own
free will as a fellow rescuer, remember? So my doctor's authority
is still acting over you most thoroughly."

"You're leaving before me. And that's that." Johnny yelled,
thrusting the winch cable at the surgeon.

"Like you're gonna stop me, Gage?" Fred grinned. "I'm bigger than you
by at least hundred pounds." Then he smiled as he cradled Dixie,
who had started shivering violently in a sudden odd muteness. "Someone's
gotta stay down here to make sure her line doesn't foul. Go,
it'll only take a minute. I'll watch her feet as she moves through.
She's getting shocky and I'll never forgive you if she blacks out
from hypothermia due to your delaying." glared Hathaway. "I promise you 
I'll come down full guns on you discipline wise if you try anything to 
interfere with my decision here. Anything at all. So don't do it."

"Fred..."

"Don't tempt me, paramedic!" Hathway interrupted. "I will file
an official reprimand if you don't go in five seconds. One,..two...
three.."

A small whimper from Dixie and the sight of her glazing eyes 
decided Johnny. He reluctantly climbed the rope and uptook the one
on Dixie belt. He shouted to the firemen above him. "Another victim's
on the line. Take up my slack! .." He crouched briefly on top of the 
crushed truck's hood and met Fred's eyes with a long look of 
indecision and reluctance. But then he grew too busy with Dixie to 
remain frozen with doubt for long. He climbed up out of vision to 
aid in the rope guiding. "Fred, I'll be back for you in less than a minute. 
Be ready for my rope. Coil it twice around your belt's loop hook!"



Dixie was halfway up out of the water when the fallen truck tipped sideways
and started falling towards her with a slow creeping roar. 

Fred didn't hesitate as he leaped at the nurse to tuck Dixie's feet safely 
up into the ceiling and out of danger. He sighed with a smile when his 
hand fell away from her shoes as he came down again.
::I did it. I saved her. This is more than a fair enough trade. My life for hers.
Thank you, G*d, for letting me be there for her one last time. Goodbye, Dixie.
All my love. Kel, you take good care of her, you hear?:: he wished.

Hathaway had a few seconds to turn then, to fully embrace the truck that
was inexorably cascading its five ton weight down the debris pile, on its
slow approaching way, to killing him.

Fred was still smiling when the impact forced the air out of his lungs
and bore him deep under the dark frothing water.

------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
Gage startled. He was by Stoker, who was crouched intently over Roy, 
giving him badly needed supported breaths with the demand valve. 
He had heard the deep throated grind of falling weight that had 
belched from the hole. "Did you get him?" he demanded of the fire crews.

"We're still pulling up the slack..." admitted the fireman manning the winch.

Just then, engineers managed to shut off the water main and
the flood died away into soft drops which echoed off the truck
below. 

Cheering, the firefighters picked up their retrieval's pace.

Inch by inch, the surgeon's rope was coiled on the wheel.

On the ground, nestled in a stokes and being blanket and oxygen 
tended by paramedics, Dixie saw ....the torn, frayed end of it come into 
view. The life belt that should have been around the surgeon's waist 
had been ripped clean away from the line and it was missing.
The fibers there were red with blood.

"I've just lost the heat signature! I've lost sight of the last victim!"
cried the camera operator, still looking through the infrared imager's
viewscreen. The full meaning of what that meant shadowed painfully on 
Johnny's face, driving the full impact of the reality of Fred's sudden 
death, home to McCall.

"No!!!... Oh, G*d, no...." Dixie sobbed. "Fred...? Fred!!"

The surgeon couldn't.. and would never,.. respond to her cries.

Johnny, knelt by Dixie's stretcher, and took her hand, numbly.
"Dixie, I'm ...so....so sorry. He left me no choice but to leave...."

Dixie's turned a shivering, tear filled gaze onto her friend and 
rescuer. "I knew Fred would do that. I think I knew that the moment he 
started arguing with you. That's why I went so numb.. I...Oh, G*d, 
don't blame yourself. He was ...always pushy, Johnny. And that's 
why I loved him so much..." she choked up, crying in gasps as 
her waterchilled shock began to rule her once more.

"Dixie...." 
 
"Go take care of your partner, Gage. Don't let that man's sacrifice 
be for nothing, ok?" snapped the paramedic working on the nurse. 
"Or I'll start doing some butt kicking,.. real fast."

Johnny went.

-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Photos : None.

**************************************************
From: "wone3" <jwilds@starpower.net> 
Date: Mon Nov 28, 2005  11:54 am 
Subject: Absolution and Grief  

Johnny kept Stoker aiding Roy's breathing even as the medic team 
started to move Roy to triage. 

Marco had made record time in getting to Dr. Brackett and getting 
the syringe analyzed. Fortunately for all involved, it was a benzodiazepine
derivative that wouldn't pose any other side effects.

Brackett had the medication's name, Versed, radioed over to the 
triage team in short order and ordered incremental intravenous bolus 
injections of flumazenil to counteract the symptoms via I.V. 

Based on the estimated dosage that Roy took into his system, Kel 
knew that Roy would only potentially have troubles for the next six hours 
or so. :: He will most likely sleep through that entire time and be fine 
when he wakes up.:: Dr. Brackett thought. 

It was during the syringe analysis that both Marco and Dr. Brackett 
heard of Dr. Fred Hathaway's demise through Marco's HT.

-----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

 
Dixie was next moved back to the triage area. The entire triage staff
felt as though the weight of the world was off their shoulders and there 
was a general sense of relief seeing that particular stretcher. 

Joe Early saw her stokes coming and he couldn't have been more 
thankful to see one of his best friends still alive.

As he came up to her, he saw her red, tear filled eyes, noting her shivering
body. And he could see the concussion signs that he had been radioed
about before she arrived. Joe knew what had basically happened
at the hole as well. "Hi, Dix. I should ask you how you are feeling emotionally 
but I think I have a clue at least a bit about how you feel. Fred was a
special doctor and I know you cared about him quite a bit. How are
you feeling physically though?"

"Hi, Joe, I have a big headache that just won't quit, and my body's
cold and numb. But as far as I can tell, no broken bones or internal
injuries. I was knocked unconscious for a while though."  The tears
came to her eyes again as she started to speak about the now dead
doctor. "He pushed me out of the way of the falling truck and took
the hit himself. Why, Joe, why?" she said in a sorrowful voice that 
had been crying seemingly nonstop.

Joe placed his hand reassuringly on her shoulder as he continued his
evaluation of her. "I'm not entirely sure of the why Dixie. I do
know that he came here looking for you before he went over there. I
also tend to think that, even though you two broke it off between yourselves,
that you both were still harboring feelings for each other. Am I right?" 

Dixie did all that she could do between her sobbing gasps,
and that was just to carefully nod her head. She didn't do it too much 
as the headache she had, still wouldn't quit.

Joe finished up with the exam and told her that she'd be spending
the next day or two upstairs in the hospital. "Today will be just for the
neurological checks. You'll stay tomorrow, too, so you can catch up 
on sleep from the checks and so we can make sure nothing else 
creeps up." he explained.

Dixie didn't even put up a fight, which kind of surprised Joe. But he
understood with the mood that she was in after all that happened. He
motioned to the two orderlies to take her inside Rampart and he told them
to let admitting know that he'd fill out her paperwork once he was done 
triaging. 

They took McCall upstairs to her room for the night, afterwards.

-------------------------------------------------------------------------------
It was several hours later.

Kel was out checking on some last minute details on a few patients 
before he left for the night after his absolutely nightmarish shift. 

He couldn't believe that Fred Hathaway was gone. 
But was he was thankful that Fred had come through for Dixie.
Just like he'd told Kel that he WOULD do.

And Kel wouldn't have had it any other way if it helped his other 
friends. Johnny had told Brackett most of the story of what had happened 
to Fred while being checked out by the doctor. Kel had known about the 
water and Johnny's near mishap with the truck, too. ::Johnny couldn't 
avoid trouble if he tried. :: he thought. 

Dr. Brackett had been saving two patients for last on the rounds; partially
out of the guilt trip he was experiencing and partially because he
wanted to spend more time with Dixie, Johnny and Roy, who happened 
to be, what he considered as close friends. 

Johnny and Roy he still had to thank for risking their lives saving
Dixie. And as for McCall, he felt he had to apologize for getting
her into that situation in the first place. 

Perhaps he would add some reassurances to all during the rest of 
the chain of events to come. 

He stopped by the nurse's desk on their floor and grabbed his
patients' charts. They were only a couple of doors down from each
other. Kel went to the paramedics' room first, mainly because it
would be easier to deal with them and get the thank you out of the
way. He was not relishing the idea of facing Dixie yet, as he wasn't
sure of the words to use for both apology and reassurance.

Kel came to the partially shut door and knocked. He entered even as
Gage acknowledged him with a come in call. 

Roy Desoto occupied the bed still recuperating from his Versed 
intake and an ankle injury. Roy wasn't awake but he was sleeping 
peacefully, off the ventilator finally.

Kel saw that Johnny Gage had taken residence in the chair next to his 
partner. ::Has he been there ever since I allowed him to leave the ER?::
he asked himself mentally. ::I did tell Johnny and Captain Stanley that 
Johnny would have to miss the next shift after all that had happened 
down in the hole.:: he surmised. Johnny had put up his usual fuss but 
Kel knew he wouldn't get his way.

"Hi, doc. What brings you through here this time of night?" Johnny
said as he slowly took in Kel's appearance. Gage could see through Kel's
tired guilt ridden eyes and facial features. He realized Kel still hadn't
granted himself absolution over the entire situation with Dixie yet.
The paramedic knew that he'd have to step carefully in part of the 
conversation to come.

"What are you doing here, Johnny? I thought I told you to go home and
get some rest. I came to check up on Roy mainly. But it looks like 
I also guessed correctly that you'd still be here. I hoped to talk to you both. 
But I can tell now that I'll have to wait until later to talk to Roy." Kel
answered with both a sense of purpose and a bit of joking.

"You look like you really have something else on your mind though,
doc." Johnny answered.

"Yes, I do have something on my mind, Johnny. I want to say what I
have to say to you without being interrupted if possible, o.k.?"

Johnny nodded as Kel continued.

"I want to thank you for taking your life into your own hands, 
saving Dixie from the fire. I know she means a lot to both of you.
She means a lot, to a lot of people and I am not sure what we'd do
without her. Fortunately, this time we won't have to find out, thanks
to you two and the rest of the firefighters who responded. And
don't say you were just doing your job. Because, from what I heard is
left of the lab space down there, you had to have been doing 
something special just to survive then. I also hope you aren't 
blaming yourself for Dr. Hathaway's death. He was the type of 
doctor that would stubbornly give up everything to save a patient 
and this time, ....he did." added Kel with a touch of melancholy.

Johnny decided to be blunt in responding, "We WERE just doing our
jobs, but I am glad you think we did something special down there. 
Dixie does mean a lot to me, ..to all of us; but I think she means 
even more to you, doc. I'm glad none of us had to find out what 
life would've been like without her around. I'm just sorry that we didn't
get Dr. Hathaway out in time before the truck got him. And you're right, 
I do feel guilty about that, but I know that I'm not G*d. Every situation is
not going to be a happily ever after scenario. Doc, the fire wasn't 
your fault and Dixie being down there getting hurt wasn't either. Dixie 
was doing her job, checking on those results. It was simply her being 
in the wrong place at the wrong time, and yes, I do know about these 
things...."

Kel thought about what Johnny just said. He cracked a smile and
started to chuckle. "You are right, Johnny. Especially about that
part of her being in the wrong place at the wrong time. Don't stay too
long. Go home and get some sleep. Your partner will be fine here."

Johnny couldn't help but get caught up in Kel's laughter, "Go talk
to her, doc. She'll tell you the same thing about the fire. And she
really needs you to deal with Dr. Hathaway's death I think."

Kel walked to the door and turned around, "That's where I'm headed
now, Johnny. Thanks for the talk." He walked through the open door
and shut it behind him. He left it as he had found it when he first entered.

----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
 
Kel walked down the hallway past a couple of doors to Dixie's room. 

Again the door was cracked open but Kel went ahead and knocked as
he entered. He could hear Dixie's quiet crying as he entered. 
:: I know Fred meant a bunch to you, Dix, but something must have 
happened down there that I don't know about. I need to tread carefully 
with you through this:: he thought to himself. 

Dixie took in Kel's appearance through red eyes. She could see guilt 
hidden in his eyes and his melancholic facial features. :: I know you so well
Kel. You are feeling very guilty about me having been downstairs when the
fire started. :: she thought. 

She saw that he had what she assumed to be her chart in his hands. 
And she knew that he'd start with small talk first using that before 
he would try to apologize. ::I'll let him start. :: she decided.

"You're doing good, Dixie. Your concussion symptoms seem to be
lessening and nothing else is showing up. After another day in here 
and a few days at home, you should be just fine physically." he told
her. ::Thank God:: he mentally added. "Dix, we need to talk. I want
to start by saying.." he voiced.

Dixie interrupted in a firm tone, though not in her typical no nonsense
tone, but one that still had some authority behind it. "Kel
Brackett. Don't you think about starting to apologize to me. There
is nothing to apologize for. And yes, I have been talking to Joe,
Mike, a few other concerned doctors, and my nursing staff about how
you have been acting since this whole thing started. You aren't G*d,
Kel. You can't stop time just when things go wrong. You're human
and you have feelings like the rest of us. There is no reason for
this guilt trip you're harboring. So it's time to drop it. Right here in 
this room and right now. I was doing my job, just like everybody else 
in this hospital was doing when the fire broke out. It was just a case 
of my being caught in the wrong place at the wrong time.... I.." She 
paused for a second as that last bit sunk in, realizing what she had 
said. She started to break down again, crying. "Gee, I sound so much 
like Johnny saying that. How are the guys doing by the way?"

Kel cracked a very small smile as he listened to her talk. :: I
knew this would come from you, Dix. You know what to say to me to get
my mind straight again. We do know each other way too well. :: 
"They are both doing fine. They're just a couple of doors down from you.
Right now, Johnny is watching out for Roy for a bit, even 
though I told him to go home a few hours ago. Gage's going to miss 
one shift, though, just as a precaution. And Roy shouldn't suffer any 
side effects from the Versed dose that he suffered. He should 
be able to go home in a couple of days and he'll be back on shift 
most likely, within a week."
He paused then to carefully change the subject. "Johnny told me the
story of what happened down there as far as he knew it. I think
there is something else going on here though. Something that maybe
only you know about. Fred was a great guy. He told me that he'd get
you out of there and help you and he did." 

With that Dixie broke down and started sobbing even more heavily 
if it were possible. 

Kel just held her and tried to reassure her.

She kept on crying for several minutes.

Once Dixie regained her composure, she went on. "Fred and Johnny 
were arguing about who should go out last. Fred ordered Johnny to 
go up so he could help on top with Roy and play the go between as 
the only information source on what had happened down below. Fred 
even told Johnny that he'd watch my rope for me and that he alone 
should be the one to do it. I went quiet at that point to make it easier 
for Johnny to decide. I was so scared for both of them then, Kel. 
I know Johnny wasn't happy, but he went. Then I was next and 
as I was halfway up..." The tears started to threaten to return and 
a lump hit her throat but she continued. "...as I was halfway up, the 
truck which had pinned Roy and Johnny in, started to sway and 
it headed right towards me. Fred pushed me up as far away from it 
as he could reach. Then ...I- I think he took the hit of the
truck full force, Kel. He pushed me out of the way... Why, Kel?" The 
tears started, but not as heavily as she had cried before.  

Kel tried to reassure her, "Fred and I talked about you as things
were happening. We both admitted to each other that we still had 
feelings for you. Fred knew that I couldn't go look for you. He 
knew that he could, Dix, so he promised to do me that favor. 
He told me before he started out that he'd make sure you'd come 
back and I think that we both know that he would've done whatever 
he had to do to live up to that promise. I'm not sure what in his mind made
him think that your life was more valuable than his during those last
moments, but I am sure glad that he did what he did do to get you out
of there. Dix, Fred needs some sort of recognition and I think a memorial 
service of some sort would help all of us deal with what he did for us
that caused his death. What do you think of that idea?"

"I like the idea of memorial service for Fred. And I am glad to hear that the 
guys are going to be just fine. That certainly helps making Fred's death 
feel not quite as bad you know? " Dix stated softly with a yawn as she 
really took in his appearance. "You look so tired, Kel." she sighed.
He DID look exhausted to her. And she knew he must have had a busy shift 
past the incident which had occurred at the hospital to look so haggard.
::His guilt .. or his relief over what happened to me is just sinking in. 
Perhaps he's feeling a combination of both.:: she thought.

"Well, this is the end of shift for me and I'm going home to bed for some
sleep, which something that you need to do, too. Your yawn has just told
as much. So I'm going to bid you a good night, Dix. Try and get some
sleep. Even if you're still feeling bad about all this. Hold on to the 
thought of how much a whole lot of people, including Fred, cared about 
you then." he told her with a special twinkle in his eyes as he crossed 
the room to the door. He opened it just enough to exit. 

He heard her call out good night to him and then the small sobbing continued 
as he walked down the hall. He knew that she would probably cry herself to sleep
but as he stopped at the desk to replace the charts, he saw that Joe had a
very mild sedative prescribed for Dixie once the neurological checks were done 
for when she really needed help falling asleep. :: Good thinking, Joe. I guess 
she told you about everything, too, huh? :: He thought to himself.

Kel continued to walk down the hall after his stop at the nurse's
desk and he started to make plans for the service.

-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Photos : None.
 
***************************************************************
From: "Champagne Scott" <chameleonkate@hotmail.com> 
Date: Wed Nov 30, 2005  11:00 am 
Subject: Food for Thought..:) 


It was a week later.

Johnny and Roy had just dropped off a sprained elbow
into treatment room five into the hands of Dr. Morton when
a shocking sight stopped Gage right in his tracks.
He slapped his partner's chest to get his attention. "Look
over there, Roy. Wow, I wonder who's chart that is?" he asked.

Both of them eyeballed Dr. Brackett as he staggered a bit
with it until a passing orderly craftily kicked a wheelchair his
way in a strong hint for him to use it to cart the thick bundle.

Dixie and Joe Early rushed from the ER's front desk to help
him with it.

The two paramedics ambled into that direction.

"Hi docs. Dixie.." said Roy.

"Oh, hi fellas.." McCall greeted warmly. "So it's back to
business as usual today. No more restricted duty?"

"None." Roy said. "I feel like a million bucks today."

Johnny leaned into Brackett as he centered the foldered pile
in the middle of the seat so that it wouldn't slide around.
"Private citizen's? Or firefighter's, doc?" he whispered about
the massively thick chart.

Kel looked up and smiled at the question. "Neither. This is
the usual adminstrative claptrap that any department head goes
through whenever anyone tries to petition management to
up the annual spending budget."
 
"You have to go through THAT much paperwork just to get a new
lab building built?"

"Yep. And that's not all I have to do. There will be a formal investigation 
into the final actions that Dr. Hathaway took that were against hospital
protocol to safeguard such an occurrance from ever happening 
again in the future." said Kel. "I have to submit a personal deposition
on that outlining my supervisory role that day and how I could have 
prevented the incident." 

A pause silenced them all when Dixie sharply looked away at the 
unexpected mention of Fred's name. She fought back a stab of 
bubbling grief that made the firemen uncomfortable simply because
they had witnessed her still vulnerable emotional weakness.

Johnny gave her a hug around the shoulders with an arm offered
in pure companionship. He didn't have to say anything aloud
to comfort her. The way she relaxed against him as she wiped 
away the saltiness from her eyes was all he needed to feel.

The others pretended not to see Dixie's emotional slip that had
gotten out in public.

Roy changed the subject, and shammed looking relieved. 
"So,..all that's red tape? Whew. For a minute there, I thought you 
were carrying Johnny's chart to add closing notes to, Dr. Brackett."

Gage let go of Dixie, indignant at his amused, larger partner.
"Very funny, Roy. You know, after this week, I think the size of
yours is fast catching up to the size of MY patient record."

"Not quite, Johnny." said Dixie. "Roy's is still a few pounds shy
of yours on tipping the scales." McCall teased.

"I win that argument. I got you beat with this one, guys." said Kel, 
hefting up the finance requisition forms folder that he needed to 
peruse in order to get construction repairs going on the new 
subterranean wing.  "And it'll take about three hours just to 
skim read it all."

Gage's mouth flopped open.
"Can't you get someone else to do that? What about your
physician's assistant? Can't she do that for you enough
to show you where to put all your signatures?"

"Nope." Brackett replied evenly.

"What a load of--" Gage sympathized.

"Well, it's the money that counts in the end, Johnny, not the thought." 
Kel nodded.

"And in Fred's case, it was the thought that counted, not the 
recklessness, Kel. And I'm gonna tell the board exactly 
how I feel so his immediate family will still get all of his
life insurance benefit."  said Joe. 

Brackett grinned. "I'll help you on that one.
The other good news is that no one is going to get sued 
for anything even remotely related to the fire. The whole thing
was ruled as an accident concerning that leaking oxygen tank
and responsibility for that electrical wire shorting out was found 
to be nobody's. It was ruled that its deterioration was just the
simple effect of normal metallic aging."

Joe Early cut in. "I'm starving. Who wants to go to the cafeteria
with me for a little lunch? It's time for my half."

Everyone raised their hands while the two paramedics raised
their HT antennaes.

--------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

The five of them clustered around the biggest table under the
eucalyptus tree and as soon as they sat down, they dove into
their trays with abandon.

Nothing was said for long minutes as fries, soda and chips
disappeared in rapid order. 

Then McCall opened up conversation.
"Did you know that Kel actually got down on his knees and proposed
to me twice this week?" she tossed out to them, laughing.

"Really?" said Johnny, perking up at that particularly unexpected
gossipy news.

"Yeah, he was helping me with my socks then when I couldn't bend
over without feeling like my head was gonna pop off."

"That passed." Kel told her.

"So it did. But I can't say that I don't miss the special attention."

Roy and Johnny cleared their throats and just bit into both their
burgers as they watched a full rise of red color Brackett's face.

But then, Kel surprised them all by saying. "Ok, I can fix that
Dixie. You and me. Tonight. At my place for a steak dinner. And 
don't bring the wine. You aren't ready medically to handle 
metabolizing such a stuporific yet."

"Of course, Dr. Brackett. I wouldn't deviate from one of your patient
care plans for all the world." Dixie giggled. Then she leaned into
Roy and Johnny. "I promise to tell you how the date goes.
Watch for the high sign when Kel's not looking tommorrow." 
she whispered.

"Well, I'll tell you one thing, doc." Roy said, suddenly becoming
mischievous. "You aren't gonna be disappointed at the end of the
evening when it's time for the big goodbye. Dixie's an absolutely 
fabulous kisser. And I'm speaking from experience."

"You remember me helping you?!" Dixie asked, stunned, growing
pale with mortification.

Roy just winked at her and said nothing at all.



FIN

Episode Twenty Seven, Heavy Duty

Emergency Theater Live
 
------------------------------------------------------------
Photos: None.

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

                          End Credits --  Episode Twenty Seven (Fourth Season)
                                      
                                              §§     Heavy Duty     §§


              :)     This episode is dedicated to nurses everywhere who are        :)
                      there to succor, heal and care for all who are in great need.
              :)                                                                                                               :)

********************************************
   
The Story Unfolds...

Season Four, Episode Twenty Eight..
 
 §§    Smoke Screen    §§
 
Debut Launch: December 1st, 2005. 
 

**************************************************
From: "Robert Gutheim" <rguthei1@twcny.rr.com> 
Date: Thu Dec 1, 2005  12:05 pm 
Subject: Trouble for Johnny 


Johnny's Landrover was full of gas. 
::Which isn't always cheap, especially around LA.:: he thought.  

Gage was driving into work that morning, hoping to get there 
as early as he could so he could avoid the wrath of The Phantom 
of Station 51.

He was almost there when he heard a strange explosive like 
sound coming from a nearby alley. Gage pulled up nearby and ran 
into it only to find a badly wounded woman lying on the ground of 
the trash filled alley. 

He ran over to her and began checking her vitals as best 
he could without a BP cuff.  Her respirations were either extremely 
slow or nonexistent. Then he sighed. ::Not that it would have helped 
much since I'm not getting a pulse anymore. And there's no way
she can stay alive with a head wound this bad.:: he said, seeing
gray matter sprayed out on the pavement near her shoulders.

Not too far from the body, Gage concluded that he was dealing 
with a pistol shooting when he saw a weapon on the ground.
It was barely visible underneath a piece of box cardboard.

Contrary to regulations, Gage picked up the gun with a
pen through the trigger ring , worried about safety. 
::It can't hurt anything if I move this a few feet out into the open 
into plain sight. I don't want it to get kicked by those who're gonna 
respond to this mess. I still remember all too well what happened 
after a head knocked Officer Vince got a hold of one of these that 
was allowed to stay too close on scene..::

He was so engrossed with moving slowly so the safety
disengaged gun wouldn't jostle off his pen, fall, and go off, 
that he didn't notice the sirens of a police car pulling up. 

"Put down the gun, sir." a voice called out as a tall, dark 
haired husky looking man in plain clothes walked up with
his weapon drawn. It was pointing at Johnny.

Johnny realized then what he must have looked like and
he carefully set the gun and pen down at his feet, muzzle 
pointed away from the newly arrived policeman and his partner. 
"I was checking the victim's vitals to see if she was still alive. 
You see I'm a paramedic with the Los Angeles County 
Fire Department." Gage explained, getting out his ID. 
"You are?"

"I’m Sergeant Joe Friday, Los Angeles Police Department.  
This is my partner Bill Gannon. If you don't mind, we'd like to take 
you downtown to answer a few questions." Sgt. Friday indicated.

"I'm on my way into work actually." Gage informed the 
detectives.

"We'll explain things to your department chief." Gannon 
promised him. "Please come with us."

His look told Johnny that he had absolutely no choice
in the matter otherwise.

---------------------------------------------------------------

Before too long Gage was being "interviewed." He was 
surprised that he felt like he had to defend himself.
"Look, detective, I was simply driving into work when I heard 
an explosive like sound coming from the alley. I stopped and 
checked to see what it was, you know, in case anyone was hurt..."
His attempt at irony was lost on the detectives, even when
he tapped his paramedic's I.D. that they had taken out of
his wallet that lay on the table in front of him. 

They said nothing. 

Johnny sighed, doing what they had asked and went 
on with his statement of account. "First thing I did when I found 
the woman lying there was to check her over to see if she had 
any vitals signs. "

The detectives looked at him blankly. 

"You know, to see if I could get a pulse, or respirations,...
that kind of thing?" 

The clarification finally registered on them and they both
nodded in understanding.

"Did you feel so compelled that you had to disturb a 
crime scene like that past a pulse check?" asked 
Gannon. 

"Yeah, I had to see if there was more I could do for her, guys.
I wasn't equipped to check her blood pressure without a bp cuff 
and stethoscope since I don't carry them when off duty. And
I didn't like the way that gun was buried under all that trash. 
I didn't want anybody to step on it. Folks can get themselves 
killed doing stuff like that."

Gannon and Sergeant Friday just looked at each other with
raised eyebrows and that made the young paramedic 
all the more nervous. ::Why am I sweating? I didn't do anything 
wrong. Not seriously, anyway.:: he thought to himself.

The silence going on between the two detectives 
began to bug Johnny and it made him start rambling like
he always did when he got uncomfortable about a situation.  
"You know maybe I should look into carrying them with me. I 
don't think they would take up all that much space really. Then 
it would be much more then a just simple first aid kit with me..."

Gannon and Friday said nothing and started whispering to
each other in conference.

Gage added more lamely, "...don't you think?"


-------------------------------------------------------------------

Meanwhile, at Station 51, Cap was not in a good mood.

"Any of you seen Gage around? The rest of us are all set for roll 
call and that twit is nowhere to be seen!" Cap roared to 
the rest of his men, including Gage's partner Roy DeSoto.

Hank pegged the blonde paramedic with a stare. He didn't
have to ask the question again out loud. He didn't have to.

Roy sang out. "Nope. Sorry Cap. I don't know where he is. 
And yes, by now he IS usually screaming for Chet's blood 
after getting nailed by one of the Phantom's pranks." Roy 
explained, pointing to Chet, who was still standing at 
attention to avoid catching flack from Hank's agitated ire.

Just then the phone rang.

Mike Stoker fell out of line from in front of the Ward
and jogged into Cap's office to answer it.
"L.A. County Station 51. Firefighter Stoker speaking."

##Stoker, it's Gage. Is Cap there?##

"Yes, he is John. And he is not happy with you right about 
now. I'd look out for him if I were y--" Stoker said as Cap 
grabbed the phone.

"Give me that, you twit." Cap insisted. "Gage, where are you?!"

##Can't talk too long, Cap. It seems I'm being booked on 
murder charges of all things.##

"What?!" Cap startled, almost dropping the phone.

Gage explained. ##I'm using up my one phone call to let you know 
the scoop. Could you call the Fire Department lawyer for me to
come down here? I'm with a Detective Gannon and a Sergeant
Friday..##

"Gage, sit tight. I'll talk to McConikee and Houts see what I can 
do to get you that lawyer. Don't do anything further to make it 
any worse, you twit." Cap said before hanging up.

Johnny grinned despite himself. :: Cap's four letter apellative
only comes out when he's emotionally riled up but thoroughly
in your camp.:: he thought. ::Now why aren't these detectives
in mine?::

-----------------------------------------------------------

Photos: None. 

**************************************************
From :  Roxy Dee <laterrapincabesa@hotmail.com> 
Sent :  Wednesday, December 7, 2005 1:22 PM 
Subject :  The Holiday Rigmarole~~ 


##Ladies and gentlemen....
The story you're about to read, is true.

Dragnet : The documented drama of an actual crime. For the 
next thirty minutes, in cooperation with the Los Angeles Police
Department, you will travel step by step on the side of the law 
through an actual case from official police files. From beginning
to end, from crime to punishment, Dragnet is the story of your 
police force in action.  

You're a detective sergeant. 
You're assigned to the homocide and burglary division.

You've already received a call about a shooting in an alley 
down the block where you found an off duty Los Angeles 
County firefighter paramedic, caught red handed, holding a 
revolver by a pocket pen, standing over a recently deceased 
young hispanic woman. The victim was later discovered to 
have died of a single gunshot wound to the back of the head.  
The dead woman has yet to be identified by the county medical 
examiner's office. 

Your soul suspect's name is Johnny Gage who claims to
work out of a county firehouse, 51's. So you check it out.
That station agrees with your man's account of current employment
and you confirm the entity to be located nearby in the outlying 
surburb of Carson City : an affluent community, that is most often 
perfectly crime free by your recollection. A puzzling background
origin for a possible rampant murderer.

To you, your perp is nervous but he has yet to give away something 
with which you can peg on him that links the apparent suspicious 
actions that you witnessed on scene earlier, to the killing. 
So far, Mr. Gage seems to be just a case of a good samaritan who 
got there too late to do anything to help a damsel in distress. 

But that could change. You've always realized that leads usually pop 
up into existence when you least expect them to.
 
You also get a call that an important piece of religious art has been stolen 
from the oldest church in Los Angeles. There's no lead to its whereabouts 
either. Your job? Find it and solve your woman in the alley's murder before
Christmas time......##

--  --  --  --  --  --  --  --  --  --  --  --  --  --  --  --  --  --  --  --  --  --  --  --  --  --  --  --    

::It was Wednesday, December 24th. It was cold in Los Angeles. We were 
working the day watch out of the burgulary division.  My partner's Bill Gannon. 
In the front office is Captain Mack. My name's Friday. I'd gone across 
the street to buy stamps for some Christmas cards I was sending 
out. It was 9:15 a.m. when I got back to Room 45; Burglary.:: thought 
Detective Joe Friday. ::I sat  out on a table in the squad room and I started 
to address the cards when Bill Gannon walked in carrying a stack of Christmas 
boxes.::

"Hi, Joe." greeted Bill Gannon.

"Hi."

"Christmas cards, huh?" chided Bill to Detective Friday. "A little late
aren't you?"

"Well, I was gonna send them out Monday, but we had that stakeout." grunted 
the brown haired Joe Friday,  who still musing over Johnny Gage's case file, 
photos and the notes he had taken while talking to his fire station's captain, 
out of the corner of his eye even as he carefully wrote down his addresses 
on his sparkling glittered envelopes. 

"Take a look at this." Bill said tossing down a magazine of a newer brand 
down in front of him.

"What's this? A comic book?" Friday asked, picking it up as if it was going
to bite him. 

"No, you look through and there's a picture on the next page." Bill demonstrated
for him.

"Oh, yah. I've seen those on the newstand." he said, no longer peering 
through the department store's magazine cover's peek hole.

Bill was still grinning. "They have cloth pasted in them."

"Cloth?"

"In the ads." Bill elaborated with a finger florish. "If you want to buy a suit
sample, it's right there." he said, indicating what had captured his eye on 
the way to work enough to buy the issue.

"Hhmm, you mean you can feel it?" Friday asked.

Bill nodded. "Where you can try it out and feel it. There was one
for two hundred dollars."

"A suit?"

"Sure. The cloth comes from Scotland."

Joe tossed down the magazine in disgust. "What's it made out of?
Solid gold?"

"No. They got a special kind of goat over there. It's real smooth."

"Not a goat, Bill. A sheep."

"Well, a special kind of sheep then, cause it costs two hundred dollars."
Bill said, still enamoured with the sample he had found.

"You gonna get one?" Joe asked. 

"I told Faye. She said wear the sample." Bill sighed ruefully.

Joe Friday's eyes twinkled in a glad I'm not you look. He returned
to torturously addressing his Christmas envelopes. And he
was good enough not to laugh. 

"You ought to get married, Joe." said Bill, going through the packages
he had brought with him from the locker room. 

"Yeah?"

"Laundry, meals, cards.. All taken care of." Bill surmised, handing to his partner
an ornately wrapped blue and gold foil present, that was elongated the length
of his palm.

"Might help." Joe agreed, taking the gift, his expression still dead pan. 

"Wanna open it now? I always open a couple the day before." Bill smiled.

Joe pegged him with a stare, ignoring his partner's brevity. "Stanley.."

"What's that? Your guess on what I got you for a present?" Bill asked.

"The answer's no. I'm not guessing that this is the Stanley wrench and 
screwdriver set I asked for. It's too light. Stanley's a fire captain, at 51's down
in Carson, the boss who lines up our current murder man consideration,
Johnny Gage, with daily jobs to do with the county. You remember Hank?
Cooks the best chowder this side of West Hollywood." Joe admitted. 

"Oh! I I remember him now. Didn't we speak to him about a case of a rescued
bum whose mattress was found to have contained eighty thousand dollars
in cold cash last year?" Gannon asked, snapping in fingers in discovery.

"We did. While he fed us that wonderful soup. I thought that Johnny Gage's 
nervousness seemed familiar. Just got off the phone with Hank. He sounded
just like our medical man does in there. " Joe said, pointing to the interrogation 
room behind them that had still had its one way glass view of the talking table
lit up with Johnny Gage leaning both elbows onto it from his chair while he
continued to fidget.  
 
"He must have learned the anse trait from Hank Stanley directly." Bill said,
studying the paramedic carefully.

"Doesn't make him a murderer. A lot of people are a little jumpy under stress."
Friday said. 

"Wouldn't jumpiness like that be a bad thing to have in a fire fighter?" replied 
Gannon.

"That's what I asked his captain. And do you know what his answer was to me, 
Bill?"

"No, what?"

"He said he's put up with four years of Gage's twitchy mannerisms and has
yet to see a character flaw that he didn't like in the guy. Then he proceeded to tell
me just how many people his paramedic has been accredited with as having 
saved."

"How many?"

"1,017." Joe replied.

"That many?" Gannon gaped.

"Yep. Just got off the phone with the fire department division chief, too. Mr. Houts.
He came up with the same quote when I asked, when I checked up on Stanley's 
statement from the phone call before."

Bill sagged onto the desk and set down his Christmas packages. "Then we're
back to square one on our alley girl."

Joe nodded.

Gannon wrinkled his forehead. "Tell me again how we're able to hold murder 
charges over this Gage fellow?"

"He was holding the gun. The woman's blood was on his hands. Because Cap 
says we gotta go through the motions. And because there were no witnesses to 
support his alibi. "

"None that we know of." Bill said, staring off into the distance as he leafed through
the folder containing their second assignment, to solve the church art theft.

"Say again?" 

"We found Mr. Gage at 0700, right?"

"Right."

"Well, doesn't holiday mass let off right about then? Maybe our murder victim 
was a member of the congregation." Bill said. "This church's in the same alley."

Joe immediately got up from his desk, abandoning his cards. "Then let's
kill two birds with one stone. Release Mr. Gage on bail. Say on five hundred 
dollars worth. He should be able to afford that on a fireman's pay. If he can't 
cover it I'm sure his stationmates will do it for him."

"Aw, Joe. You're such a softy. You're letting him out so he can be home for 
Christmas."

Friday looked up without expression. "I'm afraid things won't be so merry yet for 
him for a while, Bill. Even if he's innocent. He's got a guilty conscience a mile 
long and for things he didn't even do. Come on. Let's get to the church and see 
if we can get some of the right answers to our questions that our squirrely Mr. 
Gage couldn't really answer for us."

"Anything else on the alley murder showing up?" Gannon asked.

"Nothing else."

"I hope it stays quiet. I got more shopping to do." Gannon says, reaching
for his detective's jacket. 

--------------------------------------------------------------

Photo: A spanish Los Angeles church.

Photo: Gannon and Friday leaning over a desk.

Photo: A ribboned blue foil wrapped Xmas gift.

Photo: Johnny Gage in a T shirt looking depressed.

*************************************************** 
From: "Cory Anda" <andacory@...> 
Date: Wed Dec 7, 2005  6:16 pm 
Subject: The Ties That Bind..  


The police man and the detective were on the boulevard, 
heading back to the crime scene locales of both their currently 
assigned jobs when another question just begged Bill to ask it. Joe 
had remained silent while he considered the legal options for the 
young paramedic that he knew both he and his partner had already 
found to be liked immensely by all concerned, including themselves.

Gannon broke the stillness as he drove the Fairlane.
"Anything doing?" he asked, pointing a nose at the quiet
police CB radio in the car.

Joe picked up the chin he had resting on his hand.
"Hadding and Pryor were in on that market holdup."

"Did they come up with anything?"

"Nah, the city's not talking much tonight." Then
he held up a package that he had already wrapped for
someone in delicate fawn yellow from out of a voluptuous
pocket in his trench coat. "Do you see that? Real rice 
paper pages with persimmon perfume. Leather binding."

Bill raised both his eyebrows over the steering wheel. 
"Joe, you'll never learn." he said, clucking his lips in sympathy.

"Well, what's the matter?" Friday asked, not changing his
position or the present's, which he was holding up for Bill to 
admire.

"No woman wants a stationery set. Get her something personal."

Joe started up with petulance. "It's got her initials on it..."

Bill smiled. "No, no. You want something more sentimental. 
Romantic..." he began to soothe gently in advisement.

Joe didn't move, talking fast from the corner of his eye,
immediately changing the subject. "WhatdidyagetFaye?"

"It's different in my case." pursed Gannon with a stiff lip.

Joe insisted. "Whatdidya ..get ..Faye?" he said more slowly.

Bill sighed. "....A sewing machine..."

Joe's face never changed. "That romantic?" he asked monotone.

Gannon had the grace to look uncomfortable. "Well, it is in a way."

"Why didn't you buy a catcher's mitt?" Friday replied dryly.
Right then, the car phone went off. Joe picked up the receiver and turned
up the volume. "Burglary. Friday. Yes, that's right. You've got the 
right department.....Ok, Padre. We'll be right out. No you can tell us
about it there. Good night." and he hung up the phone. Then he turned
to his partner, "It's the Golden Church. About the theft. We're closest."

- -  - -  - -  - -  - -  - -  - -  - -  - -  - -  - -  - -  - -  - -  - -  - -  - -  - -  - -  - -  - -  - -

::Bill and I checked in with the office and rode over to the church
at the corner of Sunset Boulevard and Main...:: narrated Friday's thoughts.

::The Old Mission Plaza Church. Founded in 1781, the year Los Angeles
became a pueblo.  The outside was typical early spanish design,
complete with scarlet azaleas lining the walls. They called it the Nuestra
La Senora Reina. Her founders had been mostly from Mexico. And their 
ordained priests still held services there. They had flattened and old stable 
floor and had added grapevines, trees and flowers. A young priest crossed the 
courtyard to meet us. He had been sitting on a stone bench reading his morning 
prayers as padres have done here for one hundred and seventy two years. 

We asked for Padre Xavier Rojas who had communicated with us and we were 
told that he was inside. We entered a side door..... 

The church seemed to glow with the hundreds of moulded candles flickering on 
both sides of the altar and in the shrines throughout the church. 

It was empty except for a few people praying. Surrounding the main altar were
several old oil paintings in gold frames. The air was heavy with the scent of
advent flowers. We found Father Rojas near the sanctuary looking at the
nativity scene. He told us about the crib. It was a seventy dollar duplication
of the scene at Bethelem. The parishioners had taken up a collection for it
thirty one years ago. Every year it was put up December 22nd and taken down
after the holy season. 

It was beautiful.....  Except that one of the shepherds had lost an arm.. The 
sheep was old and cracked. And the infant J*sus was missing. Father Rojas 
led us back into the sacristy... ::
 
- -  - -  - -  - -  - -  - -  - -  - -  - -  - -  - -  - -  - -  - -  - -  - -  - -  - -  - -  - -  - -  - -  

"I'm sorry to bother you men..." said Father Xavier Rojas.

"It's all right, Father." said Bill.

"...especially now, the holiday season." 

Joe gave a small nod for Rojas to go on. "We cashed our checks,
Father. Will you tell us what happened?"

Bill elaborated more. "Or what you think happened?" 

Xavier sighed, folding over his intricate red and white robes.
"I discovered the statue was missing right after the six o'clock mass."

"Did you say the sixth?" Bill asked Xavier about being its officiary.

"Yes. I started the collections, wrote them into the directory and 
then last of all, I usually stop by the crib to pray." Father Rojas
said. 

"Was the statue missing before the mass?" Joe asked him.

"I don't know. But it WAS there last night."

"How late is the church open?" Gannon wanted to know.

"All night."

Joe brindled a bit. "You leave it wide open so any thief can walk in?"

"Particularly thieves, sergeant." smiled Xavier.

"You say it was there last night, Father? How late?" asked the
younger detective.

"Ten or eleven o'clock. We had confessions." 

"No one saw it after that?"

"One of the altar boys. He says it may have been there.   
He thinks it was."

"Did he see it?" Friday clarified.

"He's not sure." distressed the padre. 

"What's his name?" Bill asked softly, touching the priest on
the arm to calm him.

"Hefferman." Xavier led the two detectives over to a plain, heavily scratched
desk, and slid over an open ledger for them to view. "Here's the schedule.
You'll find him in the names for every mass there." 

The two detectives made use of the information and leafed through
the pictures of the congregation included in the margins. One particular
image halted them of a young female singer with a face they immediately
recognized. Her name was Maria Angel Lopez. Their young murder victim.

Joe did his best not to sigh in reopened pain.
"Was there a big crowd at the six o'clock mass this morning, Father?"

"Why do you ask?"

Friday and Gannon both exchanged uncomfortable looks with each
other.

"Padre. I'm afraid we have some ...very bad news. Have you known
this young woman long?" he said holding up the dog eared photograph
of Maria in a christening veil up so the father took it into a gnarled hand.
"It's important."

"Why, yes. This is Maria Lopez. She's a cousin of one of the firefighters
who attends church here twice a month with his mother. She's such a sweet 
child, and one with G*d. I've known her all her life. I was the one who
christened her a few days after she was born." he grinned happily in
remembrance.

"She's related to a firefighter?"

"Yes, to Marco Lopez from Station 51, one of the county's I believe,
located a few miles down the road."

Joe's face fell even more dead pan and he rose from his seat, setting
down an offered cup of tea that had grown cold. 

Bill took the older man's shoulders. "Father, I think you should sit down."

"Something's happened to Maria? No!" the padre immediately guessed.

"Yes, padre. She was killed by gunfire only this morning around seven,
right after mass in the alley immediately behind the church."

Xavier's breath caught deep in his throat and he caught himself on the
edge of the desk. "And do you know her killer yet?"

"We don't. Not for sure. There was only one man found standing over 
her body when we got her shots fired call."

"And who was he? If he's not a patron of my church, he shall surely pay 
with eternal d*mn*tion." 

"His name is John Gage, and he's also a firefighter. And we've learned
that he's a paramedic, too,..." Bill said softly, reluctant to add the
rest. Finally, he said it. "...from Station 51."

Xavier's face blanched pure white and the two detectives thought that
they would have to catch him falling into a faint. But that never happened.
"Oh, my goodness. Has someone let Marco know about Maria's murder yet?
This is simply ... terrible.. I--"

"Here, padre." said Friday, giving over the tea that would have been his.
"Drink this. It'll help."

Bill went on. "We didn't know about the connection between Johnny Gage
and Marco Lopez until now. Rest assured that we'll get to the bottom of this,
Father. We don't think that Gage is Maria's murderer. His basic character
doesn't fit the profile."

"I hope not. Pitting friend against friend can scarcely be imagined, 
detective." he took in a big breath. "Do you want me to tell Mr. Lopez about
his cousin? He is working today at the station."

"We'll do it. Mr. Gage's probably already met bail and may be headed there.
We'll share the information with the two of them in the presence of their
superiors for moral support." Gannon said, rising. "Thank you, Father."
said Friday, rising from his chair.

"And about the statue, we'll solve that mystery, too." Bill promised.

"Was there a large crowd of people here after the six o'clock mass?"
Friday questioned Rojas before they lost him in fresh grief.

"Not many. Uh,...People are usually going to work." said
the tearful padre.  

"Did you notice anyone strange hanging about Maria
in particular?"

"Not especially. I came back here,.. I took off the vestments.
I suppose it was ten, fifteen minutes before I went back out
into the church. She had stopped singing by then."

"Was it empty?" Bill plugged, looking desperate for any new suspect. 

"No, people were coming in for the seven o'clock." Xavier sighed.
"I'm so ashamed that I didn't even notice that Maria had gone missing,
too."

"Can you check with the other priests, Father?"

"I can."

"Please do. It's very important that we find the killer or else this
young paramedic may pay the unfortunate price."

"I shall, believe me. I will most diligently."

"Just for a check on the pawn shops, on our second task, 
how much is the infant statue worth?" Bill asked Father Rojas.

"In money?" Xavier frowned, genuinely surprised by the odd question.
He was still stunned by the news of the murder of Maria, the
most devout celebre' of his congregation by far.

Friday smiled then. "That's the point in pawn shops, Father."

The older gray haired man sighed and wiped away an escaping tear.
"Only a few dollars. We could get a new one, but it wouldn't be the same.
We've had children in the parish: they've grown up and married.
It's the only J*sus they know."

"We understand." said Friday.

"....And we've had children who died....Like her.." the Padre choked 
up as he hugged Maria's choir picture. " It was the only J*sus they 
knew....So ...*sob* many of the people who come here are simple 
people. They wouldn't understand, sergeant. It would be like changing 
the evening star. "

"We'll do our best, Father." promised Bill Gannon.

"That's why it would mean so much to the Lopezes, and to the
church, to have it back for the first mass on Christmas..." 
Rojas said.

"That's not very long, Father. Less than twenty four hours." Bill
frowned.

Friday silenced his partner with a small shake of his head. 
"If anything turns up, you know where to get in touch with us."

"Yes." Rojas sighed. "It's sad, isn't it?"

"How's that?" asked Bill.

"In so short a time, men learn to steal and kill."

Friday allowed the grieving man of the cloth a look of hope.
"Yes, but consider us, Father."

"Us?"

"If some of them didn't, you and I would be out of work. Now
let's try to save a paramedic, together, so he won't find himself 
out of his." Joe said with conviction.

Next to him, Bill Gannon's eyes shone with the same passionate light.

-----------------------------------------------------------------

Photos:  None.

**************************************************
From: "Patti or Jeff or Cassidy" <theaterhost@voyagerliveaction.com>  
Date: Thu, 8 Dec 2005 13:07:07 -0800 (PST) 
Subject:  [EmergencyTheaterLive] Brown Against Blue 

 
Captain Stanley was more than grateful that the station 
hadn't been called out of the house yet while all personnel he 
had requested from L.A. Headquarters, came.

Houts was hanging about in the office and the lawyer
that Gage wanted was still gathering background information
from the others on shift. :: Man, ...Marco, Stoker, Kelly
and Roy, are taking this bombshell event rather well. Wish I
could say the same for myself.:: thought Cap. 

For the third time, he cleared his throat and leaned on the
map outside his own office door, waiting for it to reopen.

The side door buzzer rang, making him jump.

"I got it!" called Chet and he skidded on the garage floor,
colliding with Boot, who was just as eager to get there, to
see if Johnny had arrived yet from the police station.

His face fell when he saw that it was two men, holding up
detectives badges. Stanley pulled up on his belt, fighting
a lump in his throat that had formed ever since he had received
the phone call from Johnny about the murder wrap. He dropped
all pretense of formality. "What's new, fellas? Can I interest you
in some coffee? We've a fresh pot in the kitchen on the stove."
he tried to grin.

Joe Friday surprised him by looking around the vehicle bay
before speaking. "Is Fireman Marco Lopez available, captain?
It's rather important that we speak to him immediately."

"About what may I ask?" Hank said, sweeping nervous fingers 
through his hair.

Right then, a happy disturbance interrupted the three of them
when the gang celebrated Gage's appearance through the
station's kitchen door.

Bill stopped smiling. "Uh, I think it would be better if we all
talked together about this captain. It'll be best for all concerned
if we do. After all, fire crews harbor no secrets from each other, or
so I was led to believe by Chief Houts."

"That fact is definitely true, detective. Uh,... This way..." he said,
showing the two investigators to the kitchen table.

The animated babble surrounding Johnny that was filled with
worry, encouragement and energetic advice dropped into silence
instantly when Gannon and Friday took the chairs Cap offered them.

Hank's face fell. "Fellas, have a seat. These two gentlemen have
something to say that can't wait until later. Marco, this is meant for
your ears, too, so don't go wandering off."

Uncomfortable and clearly uncertain, the gang did as they were told,
filing in around the kitchen table. Stoker immediately handed out coffee
mugs to everyone, but forgot to pour anything. 

No one noticed the oversight.

Chet Kelly got up quickly, "I'll......go get the Chief and Johnny's lawyer.
Is that ok if I do that, pal?" he said looking at Gage.

Gage was still deciding how to place his arms in front of him through
his agitated state of worry. "Yeah. By all means! Uh,.. if that's all right
by you guys....heh." he said without humor to the two policemen.

They nodded. "That might be a good course of action. We don't want
to interfere with anyone's rights under the law." replied Bill Gannon.

When Chief Houts and a young, fresh faced lawyer with a side part sat
down, the nervousness in the kitchen grew palpably. Especially when
Houts, a department icon, refused a fill into his coffee cup. 

Hank cleared his throat. "Detectives, Bill Gannon and Joe Friday, 
everybody. I've been led to believe that they're working on the case 
against Gage here." he said carefully, taking his own chair awkwardly. 

"Not against Gage. We're simply a neutral investigative party. It'll be up to 
a courthouse judge to decide Johnny's eventual guilt or innocence. We're 
merely here to seek out some details to answers that haven't been made 
clear yet." He looked to the fire department lawyer who had taken a seat 
near his nervous client. "May we proceed, sir?"Joe asked the lawyer.

He got a nod from him. "Go ahead. For your records, my name's Trenton 
Cogley of the Los Angeles County Fire Department. I'll be representing Mr. 
Gage through any formal proceedings until there's a resolution found in this 
case."

Joe's gaze cast around the room and he took in everybody's faces one by 
one in careful measure. Then his eyes stopped on Lopez, the only man of hispanic
descent, in the room. "Mr. Lopez, I presume. Please confirm for my partner and I
that your first name is Marco."

"Uh,.. yes, uh, it is. And I vouch for Johnny Gage here completely. He wouldn't harm
a fly let alone some woman in a city alley." Marco insisted, licking his lips.

"She was no stranger, I'm afraid. Especially not to you, Mr. Lopez." Joe said bluntly.

Unpleasant nausea that couldn't be explained caught Marco fully as he tried to
work his brain around Friday's last sentence."Wh-?" he gasped. 

Johnny Gage immediately became vocal when the implication came to him first
about the dead woman and Marco."Now wait just a dog-goned minute here! 
That's no way to drop a--"

Bill Gannon broke in. "I'm sorry, Mr. Lopez. But the woman your friend couldn't
help this morning has just been positively identified as your first cousin, Maria Angel."

Lopez went white as a sheet and choked. He got one step out of his chair before his eyes
rolled up into his head into a dead faint. He went limp and noodled, straight down.

Johnny and Roy's chairs slammed backwards into the couch as they both 
scrambled to catch him before his head cracked against the floor. 

The kitchen erupted into pandemonium as Captain Stanley, the lawyer and the other
firemen started arguing angrily with Gannon for his tactless way of delivering bad news.

Only Chief Houts remained measured. He got DeSoto's attention, who was crouched
with his partner over Marco as they loosened his collar so he could breathe without
restriction. "Do you need your medical gear and a Mayfair's response?"

Gage, still numb but functional, nodded. "Yeah. ...uh, yeah, chief. I mean, sir.
Stoker! Go grab it all." Then a bizarre thought struck him. "Chief, am I able to 
work still?" he asked Houts.

"Of course. Until I see real evidence that proves otherwise. Keep helping him."

Captain Stanley was still glaring at the two city detectives as he got on the pay
phone. "L.A., Station 51 is no longer available. Still alarm at our location. 
Respond one ambulance and--"

Houts held up his hand as he stood to help the others move the kitchen table 
and Boot out of Roy and Johnny's working space over Marco. "Hank, don't
worry about getting Lopez's fill in. I'll do it. I already know Gil Robertson's signed
up for replacement duty here. He thought he had to do it for Gage."

Stanley looked up sharply at Hout's "extra man" plan already in place,  
and all he could do was nod stupidly. "....that's all for now, L.A." Hank 
said into the receiver. "Yes. Thanks. My timeout for the log book is 14:55. 
Got it." and he hung up the line. Then he turned his back purposely
on Gannon and Friday and looked to Roy, who was fitting an oxygen mask 
over Marco's pallid face while Mike got his shirt open. "Is he ok?"

"As well as he can be, given the circumstances.." Roy said angrily. He got
back to taking Lopez's blood pressure. He frowned when he found how low
it had become. "Johnny, we might need an I.V." he said, reaching out to his
shaky partner's sleeve. "Johnny,...did you hear me?"

"...uh,...right, I'll make the call to Rampart. Stoker, keep an eye on that EKG. 
His system's had quite a shock. Mine, too, for that matter." he said, rubbing his
face fiercely to drag his thoughts together. "That's right, cover him up,
Chet. He's going to need a blanket. Boot! Get outta here! You're getting in
our way!" 

Chet, nearby, was seething. He jerked a thumb over his shoulder in irritation 
at Gannon and Friday. "Cap, do we need these two hanging around any more? 
I think they've done enough damage to the station for one day."

Stanley held up his hands in sarcasm. "Not my place to say, Chet, now is it?
Chief?"

"They stay. Cogley still has to get in an official conference with them 
to get all the details for the formal court proceedings. 
Do you need anything special for that task Trent?" Houts asked Trenton.

"No. That is, if Mr. Lopez here is nothing more than just a relative of the 
deceased."

Joe Friday replied. "That's all he is."

"Ok, uh, Then I'll need nothing else. Let's get to work, shall we?" Cogley said with
mild sarcasm, trying to ignore the sharp emotions in the room as the cluster of 
firemen tried to restore Marco to some semblance of normalcy with shouts
and shoulder shaking. But Lopez did not awaken.

Cap knelt by Roy's shoulder. "Is this because he's still hungry from sleeping 
overnight on an empty stomach with all this bad news? We did get back 
from that multiple MVA awfully late. I know for a fact that he didn't eat before
crashing then."

"Probably. Rampart'll order a check for glucose in the ER 
after we give them some vitals." DeSoto said. "That's pretty standard."

"Ok. Let me know if you need anything. I'm going to go pop open the front
doors for the mobile rig when it comes." and Stanley jogged out of the kitchen.

Johnny finished getting Marco turned onto his left side so an airway wouldn't be
needed over his tongue. He handled his crewmate gently, going overboard with
being the caretaker to protest the detective's manhandling of Marco's emotions.
Then he got on the biophone Chet had deposited at his feet.
"Rampart, this is Squad 51. How do you read?"

Gannon and Friday were oblivious to the proceedings, deep as they were in 
deliberating with Cogley about the strength of the murder rap against Johnny. 
Trenton had the good manners to keep concerned for Gage's coworker even 
as he got details from the detectives' notes down onto his own ledger.

##Go, ahead, 51. We read you loud and clear.## replied Dr. Early.

Johnny opened his mouth, but nothing came out.

Roy took the phone from Johnny when he choked for being so furiously 
upset at how Marco had been treated by the Dragnet pair. He spoke 
instead. "Rampart. One of our own. A thirty one year old male. Down from a 
syncopal episode due to psychogenic shock. Patient did not strike his head 
when he passed out. Vital signs are : B/P is eighty two by palpation with his legs 
elevated. Pulse's 110 and respirations are twenty and shallow. He's on 15 L's of 
O2. EKG is showing only slight sinus tachycardia with normal T wave elevations 
but he's still proving as unresponsive to verbal commands. Request permission 
to start an I.V., Rampart."

##Go ahead, 51. An I.V. of Lactated Ringers at a rate of 120 ml/hr. Run in an initial
250 ml bolus, or more, until his blood pressure returns to normal. Administer a course 
of 100 mg Thiamine IM as a precaution. I heard your station had some fairly 
heavy duty during your last twenty four hour shift. Give him glucagon 1 mg IM if his 
LOC doesn't change appreciably within five minutes. Push D50, 51, at 50cc IV if you 
still don't see improvement en route after an appropriate interval following those first 
two treatments. Get a full medical history and any medications he might be currently 
taking. Resend a set of vitals if they continue to downcurve. Keep him warm and 
transport as soon as possible. ##

"10-4, Rampart. I.V. LR at 120 with 250 bolused to low normal of 90 systolic.
100 of Thiamine now. 1 mg Gluc IM in five if no change. D50 push at 50 if still
unresponsive en route. Our ETA is...."

Captain Stanley heard the sound of an approaching siren. "....less than five minutes."
he said tersely.

"...five minutes." Roy finished neatly.

##We'll see you then, 51. Rampart out.## replied Joe Early.

Roy and the others quickly directed the arriving ambulance attendants into
getting Marco situated on the wheeled gurney once he was I.V. line tape
secured and fluid, mineral and sugar treated fully. 

Johnny Gage couldn't wait for the sanctuary of a quiet Mayfair cabin in which
to try and pull together his tattered thoughts. If events had seemed surrealistic
before, they were feeling absolutely out of any shred of his control now.  

Marco coughed then under the mask and Johnny used every breath 
sighing from Lopez as a steadying support for his nerves.

---------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Photo:  Mad Cap and Gage leaning on the frig.

Photo:  Marco looking lost with questioning Chet.

Photo:  A fresh looking man in the engine bay with Chet and Cap.

Photo:  An angry Roy in the kitchen.

Photo:  Joe Friday and Bill Gannon with case files, talking.

Photo:  Boot helping out with medical gear.

Photo: Mike Stoker, looking down in concern at the station.

Photo:  Johnny Gage reacting to a fallen Marco.

**************************************************
From: "Roxy Dee" <laterrapincabesa@hotmail.com> 
Date: Wed Dec 14, 2005  7:49 pm 
Subject: The Truest Color Of Devotion~~ 


Dr. Joe Early sighed as he and Roy and Johnny left the treatment room
that held the sleeping Marco Lopez. "And you say that Marco
fainted right after hearing some news? That doesn't sound like
the kind of thing that would usually bother him normally. He's been a 
firefighter too long to be that vulnerable. But his tests, past
the basement level serum glucose reading, are all coming back as 
negative which forces me to believe his symptoms were as you say,
all psychosomatic. But surely, he must have some pretty thick skin 
working for him by now. What did he get upset about if I may ask?"

Roy and Johnny shared a conspiratory gaze and clammed up. "Uh, doc.
We're on sensitive ground here and I guess by the chief's orders, such
as they are. He's effectively gagged us. We can't talk about it. 
At least, not yet." said Johnny, raising his eyebrows matter of factly.
He bounced on his toes and fidgetted with the buckle on the front
of the oxygen demand valve case he was still holding.

"But I promise, we will soon, hopefully." Roy reiterated. "Sorry, doc.
But the matter is rapidly stepping into Johnny's personal territory 
and into the professional range of another higher agency in authority."

"I understand perfectly. I realize that even a doctor can fall under a need 
to know only basis. I hit walls like that with juvenile court, priests and 
nursing home administrators all the time and quite frankly, I'm almost 
getting used to it." Joe grinned. "You told me all that was necessary in 
order for me to effectively treat Marco and that pretty much nails the cap on 
what a doctor SHOULD do, boys. So don't worry about it."

"So is he gonna recover in time to start tomorrow's shift? If he can't, he's sure 
gonna rail about missing getting in some good holiday overtime." Gage 
grinned wanly. "He's gonna wanna work after tonight. Trust us that Roy and 
I know this as a concrete fact, doc."

Joe met both paramedics with an even stare. "Physically, I'd say yes. But our
chaplain, who was in when you two stepped out of the room briefly for the lab
tech's draws, says no for the emotional side of things, for at least a couple
of days." Joe was unhappy with that kind of prognosis from a man who was 
a healer of a kind, like himself, and it showed on his face.

Johnny opened his mouth, about to say something to his silver haired 
mentor, but immediately shut it again.
 
Joe didn't press him one second further, at least, not intentionally.
"Let me know if there's anything I can do to help all of you when you can, 
ok? It's the least I can do past the non-charges I'm going to file for him 
for that precautionary ambulance ride, your treatments, and the use of 
that exam room." he said jerking his thumb over his white coated shoulder.

Both paramedics brightened from their listless distant look enough 
to thank Dr. Early with a heartfelt sincerity. "Thank you, doc, on Marco's 
behalf. I'm sure if he wasn't medicated right now, that he'd think the same 
thing I was thinking, uh,..I mean, about thanking ya and all." said Gage.

Joe Early nodded, accepting the vague explanation gracefully and they
could see that he was chalking up the whole conversation as one
from a couple of men truly caught between a rock and a hard place.
"If I don't see you again before midnight, Merry Christmas, fellas." 

"Merry Christmas, doc." said Roy, waving as the mild mannered M.D. returned
back to his normal rounds. "Thanks for everything."

"From me, too." said Johnny, trying to smile as he watched Joe's
back retreat cheerfully away from them.


------------------------------


"I suppose we'd better get back. Your lawyer's bound to get 
fairly expensive if we keep him waiting too long for us to return here."
Roy jibbed, attempting a joke. He started to head for the squad with
the ekg monitor after taking a sip of water from the fountain in the wall.

Johnny leaned on the door of the treatment room, pressing his nose against
it to fight back tears that had surprised him by resurfacing. He ignored
Roy's comment completely as he busied himself by watching Marco's 
breathing rate and its count through the glass window. 
A floating floor nurse was still in the emergency room with him. She was waiting 
for his pressure to stay level enough to discontinue Lopez's flowing I.V.  
It was almost empty. ::That's kind of like how I'm feeling right now.:: Gage 
thought. Suddenly, he started actively crying...quietly to himself, without 
making a sound. 

Being closely attuned, Roy noticed Gage's absence at his side 
immediately, and made his way back over to him through the heavy Christmas
Eve waiting room crunch. It was then, that Roy noticed Johnny was 
shaking in a delayed reaction. 

Gage's mind was a whirlwind. ::Why didn't I know the dead woman 
was part of Marco's family? I'm usually pretty good about noticing odd 
coincidences like that. Why didn't I look for a wallet for a form of I.D. like I've 
done on calls thousands of times before?:: 

He felt Roy rest a hand on his shoulder softly and his head shot up
with a jolt, both reddened eyes glistening in the lights.

DeSoto dropped a balled handkerchief down his front subtly while he 
pretended to fiddle with his online HT with the other one, waving cheerfully 
at passing nurses who were noticing Johnny's droop against the door to 
show them that he was fully aware of the situation and had it in hand enough 
without needing them. He kept his back to his partner, so he could save some
face and have some privacy while he gave into some healthy venting.
"You had a gun drawn on you for Pete's sake." Roy replied as if he were
clairvoyant. "I honestly can tell ya my shorts wouldn't've been as clean
as yours if I turned around to find a police detective with an oozy aimed
at my head. Quit blaming yourself. You can't know everything. Let's go.
You can roll down the squad window and let the sun dry off your face before 
we get back to the station. Take comfort in the fact that nobody'll see 
you if you start blubbering again in the squad, except me."

"I should say something to him." he said, throwing a chin up at Marco,
still looking at Lopez through the window's clear pane.

"Do you think now's the best time to offer Marco platitudes? Come
on, Johnny. Get real. You know how crappy folks feel for the rest of the
day after suffering a faint. Especially one as deep as his. You can tell 
him anything you want once he's been discharged. Now, come on."  
And Roy tugged on his arm. "Let's get this detective/lawyer interview 
thing over with. Houts hasn't got all day available to babysit us like
he's been doing already."

Johnny used the cloth and chucked it into a red plastic lined 
bio-bin nearby. "No, let's go grab a cup of coffee first. I gotta get
something to settle my stomach that's not liquid drug box anti-acid.
I must have chugged a whole bottle of it on the way in."

"Ok, but only for a few minutes. And milk'll be better for you."

Johnny started to gape but Roy interrupted him.

"Before you open that yap of yours in pointless protest, I'm buying. 
So get moving." Roy told him.

----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Dr. Brackett was working on his chart stack at Dixie's center desk when
a pair of police officers approached him. Kel looked up. "Can I help
you, gentlemen?"

"Yes, we're looking for a paramedic who's recently brought in one
of his coworkers from his own fire station. A guy by the name of Johnny..."

"Gage? Yes, I know him. I think I saw him and his partner, Roy DeSoto,
walking that way towards the cafeteria. They're here for what?"
The two officers didn't like that he had missed their prior information.  
They started to head away, when Kel grabbed the officer's arm. "Uh, 
if I may, what's all this about officer? Is my man in some kind of trouble?"

"Well, I don't know if I can tell you our business, doctor.."

"Dr. Brackett. Dr. Kel Brackett, head of emergency."

The Los Angeles street cop still looked un-reassured.

Brackett reiterated his position clearly.
"Technically, I really am the boss of every paramedic who delivers 
patients to Rampart Hospital. I trained up most of them myself. 
So anything that effects any of them legally, effects me, in a way."

"Ok, doctor. Guess we can tell you. Your man Gage's free on bail
over murder charges for killing the cousin of one of his fellow firefighters, 
a Marco Lopez from Station 51. Apparently, this Lopez collapsed a half
hour ago and was treated by Gage's Squad 51. We want to ask Lopez a 
few questions about the victim and about what might have caused his
own illness. You see, we have reason to be suspicious of Johnny's off duty
whereabouts over the last day."

Kel reeled and barely covered the shock which bloomed in his chest at
the bland statement.  "Who's overseeing this investigation officially?
I've a right to know if this effects one of my out-of-hospital employees."

"Detectives Bill Gannon and Joe Friday from the downtown precinct,
Los Angeles."

"Johnny? Trumped up on homicide charges? You're sure barking up
the wrong tree! Gage's never harmed anyone his whole life."

The taller officer leaned in on the desk. "Did you know that before
Johnny Roderick Gage became a rescue man with the county, he served
three years probation for offenses he committed as a teenager?"

Brackett's face twitched. "No, I didn't."

The two officers started smiling at the doctor's chagrin.

Kel erupted. "For what? Double parking or drinking and driving underage?"

"For disorderly conduct, doctor. Which is well known to be a precursor 
for a later tendency ...towards violence."

Brackett became speechless.

"Excuse us, doctor, we've a couple of paramedics to catch."
and they walked away, leaving a very rattled Dr. Brackett holding
the worst possible of ill tidings.

Dixie happened to notice him as she passed by and immediately,
she went to his side. "Kel? Are you ok?"

"No. Not by a long shot. I've found out something incredible recently
about Johnny. And it involves his fellow crew member, Marco Lopez." 
Dr. Brackett proceeded to tell his nurse about the whole situation 
as quickly as he could. "Apparently, Johnny just treated him."

"Marco? He's here?"

The thought of working an easy ER night shift on Christmas Eve instantly 
became the most remote one for both doctor and nurse soon after that.

"Yes. And the only possible one who could know about that is.." Kel
said.

"....Joe. Come on, I think I know where he is." Dixie finished for him.

They practically ran for Joe Early's office to speak with him.

-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
Hank Stanley was still steamed. He had already sent Chet Kelly out to
the yard to hang hose to work out some of the hostility that had shown
in his voice when he directed his humorless comment about the detectives. 

And he had received word that Marco Lopez was fine, well, and resting
comfortably in one of Rampart's short stay emergency treatment rooms.

His office door had barely closed behind himself, Chief Houts, Bill
Gannon and Joe Friday, when he went off. "Is it common practice to
devastate relatives about a victim's shotgun murder so thoughtlessly?! 
My g*d, didn't you two see the kind of effect your just the facts mentality
had on him?! It was as if you had hauled Marco Lopez against a wall 
and shot him with a gun yourself!"

"At ease, captain..!" Houts snapped.

Hank immediately went rigid at attention. "Sorry, sir, I thought I could 
speak freely in my office because we're well away from the rest of my 
crew's ability to hear."

"Not when you're yelling that loudly, you're not. Sound always 
carries through the pipes in stations this new." he said jerking his finger
up at the ceiling where a few white painted ones threaded through above
the flourescent light. "Captain, I appreciate you wanting to protect your firefighters
being incriminated and investigated. It's only natural, given your station. And
I don't mean that as a pun, Hank."

Stanley had to smile. Wearily he sat down in his chair without asking,
and Houts didn't harp on him for doing it. "Sorry, Gannon, Mr. Friday,
it's been a stressful day. Every Christmas Eve gets this way. I just wish
you would've found a gentler way to tell my man about the death of
his cousin. Marco's very attuned to his family. It was bound to have
effected him the way that it did."

"How else are we going to catch Maria Angel Lopez's killer? Every minute
we delay is one minute more for the trail to get cold. We wanted to speak
with Marco as well as the rest of your men about what happened this morning
with Gage on his way to work. Can we get to it please?"

"Ok, but talk with them all in a group or they won't be talking I'll have
you know." Hank warned. 

"Firefighters are fiercely protective of each other." Houts added.

"You don't have to tell us that. We see that in you." said Friday deadpan.

"Oh. Yes. Well,.." Cap said sheepishly. "sorry I blew up just now. 
I just thought you did a little too much straight sided talking over the 
kitchen coffee, that's all."

"And how are we going to solve this crime if we don't talk?" Gannon
asked quite frankly and dotted with a little sarcasm. Like the firemen,
he was very hungry.

"You don't learn ANYthing by talking. You learn by listening." Cap
said with a touch of heat. 

Behind him, standing quietly under the clock, Chief Houts, nodded
slowly in agreement. He was deeply pleased for Hank's bit of cool 
wisdom.

That got Gannon and Friday's attention. "Just how do you propose
we do that?"

Hank's eyes sparkled with newfound energy. "Let's discuss it over
a pot of chili, shall we?  My station never gets called away on a run
while we're eating five alarm chili."

Houts added more, trusting his favorite captain and trusting Hank's 
absolute faith in his men. "I promise you that we'll make such head
way into your investigation, in just an hour, that your ties'll start 
spinning."

Finally, the two detectives looked up from the watches they wore.
"You have one hour to prove your point of view. After that, we do
things ...our way."

"Deal." said Hank, leaning over his desk. He thumped his fist onto
its surface so hard, that Chief Houts' picture retilted on its nail above
the file cabinet. He immediately flushed, muttering apologies.

Grinning at Cap's embarrassment, the Chief put it to rights with
a few fingers and straightened his hat. "Let's hit the chow line.
Hank, go invite that young lawyer to dine with us. No doubt he's
gonna ask to ride along with Gage and DeSoto on squad runs 
so he can hurry things along a little faster before tomorrow's 
holiday break."

"I'll do that right now." said Stanley, opening the door for his very
official guests. 

The four of them were struck speechless when they found Boot,
the station dog, sitting square in the absent squad's parking 
space, waiting patiently in the sea foggy afternoon chill for Johnny 
and Roy's eventual return. His gaze never left the cars on
the boulevard as he searched for the two paramedics' truck.

Gannon was impressed. "Does he always do this?"

"Always. And only for those he cares deeply about." winked Hank.
"He dogs anyone in trouble and stays with them until he finds that
they're finally out of it."

Houts grinned, shivering in the seasonable cold seeping in from
the open garage doors. "Boot here has been creditted with saving
fifty five people by leading fire department vehicles right to them
on rescue calls."

"Really.." said Friday. "Was he trained to the skill?"

"No. He does it on his own. You're looking at a genuine, one
hundred percent unadulterated, wandering alley mutt, gentlemen. 
But he always comes through for us in the end. And he is never
wrong about those he thinks are in trouble."

"Impossible! You say he's here for Gage?" asked Gannon. 

"Most likely. You know how a dog's instincts can sometimes
get." Hank said. 

"That I do. Mind if we borrow him when we take Gage on a re-visit
to the crime scene when he gets back?" asked Joe Friday.

"That my friend, is up to Boot. He comes and he goes as he 
pleases around here." Houts told the detective.
 
--------------------------------------------------------------------------

Photos:  None.

*************************************************
Date: Fri, 16 Dec 2005 14:14:35 -0800 (PST) 
From: "Jeff Seltun" <finiterider@yahoo.com>    
Subject:  Just the Simple Facts... 
 

::17:15 pm. Johnny Gage and Roy DeSoto had reported themselves 
as available according to the fire department dispatcher a half an hour
ago. But still, they hadn't returned from the hospital after caring for
Mr. Lopez. My partner had a theory about that. They must have stopped 
at a burger joint on the way back to the station. One of the regular fireman,
a Chet Kelly, seemed to agree with this assessment. So Bill and I checked 
out the two altar boys from the day's masses while we waited for a 
phone call from the fire captain as soon as DeSoto and Gage were
confirmed as return arrived back in their base of operations.

The first one, James Cormeen, said that he knew nothing about 
the missing statue. The second one, Joseph Hefferman, was 
not at home. His pharmacist father said that he had a part time 
job but he'd have him get in touch with us right after dinner.  

By 18:00 pm, we'd run out of book procedure. We had a killer to 
find. Our only clue; that the murdered victim had been to church. 

18:07 pm.. We checked the phonebooks for the names of religious
stores in the area. Two of them were closed. We tried the third.
When we got there, the only person in the store was an elderly
man sitting by a table. In front of him was a large beautifully carved
chess set. ::

----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Joe Friday drew out his wallet when the white whiskered man 
finally looked up from the move he had been contemplating.
"We're police officers. My name's Friday, this is my partner,
Bill Gannon."

"Great to see ya." said the man, not looking up from a letter that he
was studying intently past a cursory glance to take in the fact that
the men speaking to him were actually who they said they were.
"I'll be with ya in a minute. You caught me in the middle of my 
big chess match."

Bill smiled, looking at the empty chair across from the man.
"Where's your partner?"

"At work in a church boiler room. We've been playing for years." 
said the old timer.

"Same match?" asked Joe.

"No. Just two or three months on this one. What I meant was that we've
been playing different matches for years.." he said proudly. 

"I see." said Friday.

"You know, we do it through the mail, since he's autistic and can't leave
the church sacristy and Father Xavier Rojas's direct care officially. He
sends me a move and I send him one."

"Must keep you on your toes." Bill said rubbing his chin thoughtfully.

"Except during the holidays when the mail gets all fiddled up. That's 
no good."

"Guess not." said Bill.

"Slows things down. That's no good. I like to catch him off guard."

"What's his name?" asked Joe.

"Leonard Baptista."

"Really. Is that his real last name? Kind of ironic since he's a ward of
Rojas's church down the street." Gannon probed.

"Yes. That's his, and that's the honest to G*d's truth." smiled the white 
whiskered man, crossing himself. 

Bill looked up at the storefront window, squinting for a moment.
"Are you Maximillion J. Lorentz?" he guessed suddenly, returning a 
studying gaze at their store proprietor.

"How'd you know? We've never met." declared Maximillion with surprise.

Joe grinned. "Your name's on the window up front."

"Mr. Lorentz, we've checked with the other two religious stores in this
neighborhood. They're closed."

"This is the best one anyway. Fifty percent European items." said Lorentz
proudly.

Joe smiled. "We're checking the stores around the Mission Church."

"For what?" asked their chess player.

"A statue of the child Jesus." replied Bill. "Do you have one we could look at?"

"Sure.." said Max and he stepped to a cobwebbed but shiny brass display
case with no glass and held out the nearest one he had for sale. It barely
fit into the palm of his hand.

Joe piped up. "No, sir. A larger one."

Max blinked. "You don't want a large one. Unless it's for a church. That's
where you want a larger one." he declared, thinking the two detectives were
actually going to buy.

Bill smoothed some feathers. "Could we see it, please?" he asked gently.

Max went away and came back with one about a meter long. Too big
to be one that would fit in the Mission Church's manager. "It's not my
due to butt in, but unless you live in a big place, this one'll make your
living room all the killer. "

Joe and Bill exchanged ironic looks at the use of that word. "Yes, sir."
said Joe. "Do most of the people who go to Mission Church trade here?"

"A good many of them. Especially kids."

Friday was puzzled. "Why kids?"

"They're more religious." said a surprised Max at the detective's daftness.
"Check on it yourself. See if kids aren't more religious than you."

"That'd be so." agreed Joe.

"That's what's wrong with the world. Oh, I don't mean you're wrong
with it. Everybody!" said Max spraying some spittle in his fervor. 

Bill nodded. "Yes, sir. But I wonder if we could stick to the point, Mr.
Lorentz."

"Sure. A lot of people from the Mission Church come in here." said Max,
cooling down and cleaning his face with an old, but tidy handkerchief.

Joe dug into the lead. "Do people ever come in here to sell BACK a
religious article?" 

Maximillion rubbed his scraggily beard in puzzlement. "You mean like
a prayer book or rosaries?"

"Yes, sir." Friday nodded.

"Second hand you mean?" asked Max.

"Yes, sir." Bill confirmed.

Max shook his partially bald and graying head. "Not since I've ever
been around. That'd be silly." 

"Why?" asked Gannon.

"People don't have religious articles so they can get rid of them.
They have them so they can HAVE them." reasoned the old man sensibly.

Bill pressed his point. "But if a man had a statue and wanted to sell it..
would he come to a place like this?"

"Sure. But he wouldn't want to sell it." Max said, not changing his beliefs
one bit. 

Joe added more. "He would if it were stolen."

Max vehemently shook his longish, hobo looking hair underneath his floppy hat.
"No sir!" he said, the first touches of anger coloring his voice. "If a man were
to steal a statue, he'd be crazy or something like that. The only place he'd
want to go is where crazy people are."

Joe saw that their contact was getting riled up unnecessarily rendering him
too clouded for reliable information. "You may be right, Mr. Lorentz." 

But his placation did nothing to settle Max's roused ire. "I don't know
what you fellas are looking for. But if it's somebody who stole a statue, he's
crazy and you won't find him. You won't find him as long as you live. Not in
a million years!"

Joe raised his eyebrows in sarcasm at their impossible assignment. 
"That should cover it." he said in resignation and he and his partner excused
themselves with a nod of thanks to Lorentz. "Sorry to have disturbed your game,
sir. I hope you can get back to it soon enough to enjoy it again." he said of Max's 
agitation.

"I will, gentlemen. I just need a snort to compose myself. Sorry. I always get this 
way whenever I find somebody's thinking stupid.  Uh, no offense meant.
It's how I feel about banks, too. I don't trust em either when THEY'RE stupid!"

"Well, isn't that the way you feel about your slowish friend, Leonard Baptista?"
Bill asked, puzzling on an apparent contradiction.

"He may be dim witted, but it's not the same thing. He's innocent of the crime
of stupid thinking. He's too pure of a soul for that. It's why I like him and our
chess games."

As Bill Gannon and Joe Friday left the store, Bill leaned into his partner and
remarked. "You know. I'll just bet he's the type to stuff his life savings into
a mattress to sleep on it at night."

"I wouldn't be surprised." Joe said, rolling his eyes. "Come on, let's get
back to Station 51 and wait on our two paramedics to come home. Maybe
after we eat on that captain's invite, they'll show up in time for dessert."
 
--------------------------------------------------------------------------

Photo:  A boiler room with a fire going.

Photo: Maximillion J. Lorentz getting riled up.

Photo:  The Dragnet detectives interviewing a witness.

Photo:  The station doors propped open, showing engine
             and squad. 
  
********************************************************************
From: "Patti or Jeff or Cassidy" <theaterhost@voyagerliveaction.com>   
Date: Wed, 21 Dec 2005 18:48:20 -0800 (PST) 
Subject:  [EmergencyTheaterLive] Looks Can Be Deceiving.. 
 

Dixie McCall and Dr. Brackett were no more clarified
on events circulating around Johnny Gage than before
they had spoken with Dr. Early, twenty minutes earlier.

Both nurse and doctor slumped as they wandered back down
the hallway to the elevators above the emergency ward.

"Well, I guess that ends that." Dixie sighed. "So much for
trying to go for the coveted proverbial friend in need cause."

Brackett matched her look of disappointment. "Never knew how
much of a stickler our hospital rules about confidentiality were
until I ran up against them myself. And I can't blame Joe
for clamming up on Marco's case and about what he overheard 
earlier in the hallway from Roy and Johnny."

"Look who's talking." Dixie said, pushing the elevator button.
"And I thought I was onto something that would solve everything
for all three of them." She buried her head against Kel's shoulder
once the doors were closed behind them. "Having a sense of
curiosity sucks, Kel. Don't you feel the same way?"

"If I did, I never would have become a doctor." he smiled,
giving her a comforting hug. "I guess we'll just have to let our
firemen get themselves out of this bind on their own. All we
can do is be two sets of ears when they do decide to open up
to us later on and offer all the best advice we can."

"I still want to do something to help."

"Maybe we can."

Dixie looked up in puzzlement.

"No one says that we can't look in on a patient to get
a vitals set or two for the charts. We can always say that
we were short nursing assistants today." Kel reasoned.

"That'd be the truth at least." Dixie said, pulling away from
Dr. Brackett as they reached the ground floor. "But do we
have the right to involve ourselves here? Talking about
whatever upset Marco with him may just make his holiday 
even worse despite our best intentions."

"You know, I would have never even thought of that."

"Being empathetic sucks, too. Now I can't go against my better
judgement either." she complained miserably.

Kel sighed hugely, and both of them eyed up the room where 
Fireman Lopez was. They knew he was most likely changing 
while the reception desk awaited Joe's paper orders to officially
discharge him from the hospital. "Neither can I.  But we still can
do something on another track."

"Oh? And what's that?" McCall asked..

"We can talk to those detectives on the phone directly, to get
some answers."

"How are we going to know where to call them, Kel?"

"Easy. We ask that police officer who was hunting down Johnny.
By law, he's got to say why he's on private property like this for
somebody legally freed on bail. And I'm just the man he's got to 
explain himself to. All of the sudden, I'm feeling hungry. And gee,...
from the looks of your pale-ish skin... You are, too." he lied.
"Come on, let's go to the cafeteria for some pie and coffee to get
ourselves unhungry and in better shape to handle things."

"Best news I've heard all day." said Dixie.

With their faces set firm in determination, Dixie McCall and Dr. 
Brackett set off on their self appointed errand briskly.

-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Johnny Gage couldn't eat.  He couldn't believe it when a police officer
sat down at the table behind him and started to stare at his back,
without looking away, while he drank his coffee in slow measured sips.

"Now that really burns me." said Gage to DeSoto. "He's just sitting
there. Why is he looking at us?"

Roy glanced over his shoulder and shrugged. "Why don't you get up
and go ask him."

Johnny turned back around with irritated energy. "Oh, no. I'm not gonna 
play his game. So, being out on bail still means guilty until proven 
innocent? Ok, all right. Two can play that game. Roy, let's leave a little bit 
early."

"What? I thought we were going to wait for Marco until he's through filling 
out the paperwork so all three of us can go back to the station together."
Roy insisted.

"We are, we are. Not so loud. He'll overhear you." Gage hissed, over 
his corn bread and chili.

"He already knows what's going on." Roy said through tight teeth. "Don't
make such a big deal out of this. You've done nothing wrong. If ya had,
you'd still be locked up in jail tonight for Christmas Eve."

"Well, then, if I'm so innocent, why are those two detectives still hanging 
around us? They're more than just starting to get on my nerves, Roy. Think
about what they did to Marco."

"That was an accident. They had no idea how close Maria and Marco were."

"Well, they should've checked before they notified next of kin like that of
her death. If they had, they'd have realized that it was just him, her and his 
mother living in the same house together."

"Maybe they took that into consideration, Johnny. Who better to tell than a
younger son and not some poor old frail mother about her passing?"

"They did check." said a voice nearby. "It's standard policy to notify a healthy
next of kin with distressful news to prevent any unfortunate adverse reactions."

The two paramedics turned around with a matching set of strongly 
disapproving double frowns and both pegged onto the policeman 
who had just spoken.

Johnny went ballistic. "Thanks a lot for eavesdropping on a private 
conversation Mister Squad Cop. The least you can do is tell us why 
you've been ordered to dog us like this."

The smile fell away from the police officer's face. "I thought I was being 
polite by letting you eat before clarifying a few facts that I've been asked 
to get by the coroner's office. They need your detailed positional and 
physical findings so they can completely fill out Miss Lopez's official death 
certificate."

Gage shot to his feet. "That's it. Roy, let's go..." he said dangerously. "If I don't 
leave now, I'm gonna start getting real mad here."

"Ok, ok.. Sorry about that, officer.. You see, my partner's upset about how your 
superiors handled breaking bad news about your deceased's status to a friend 
of ours. So you're gonna have to forgive him for acting uncooperative. He's just 
had to treat that same friend for falling into moderate to heavy shock because of 
it." DeSoto offered apologetically to the man in blue.

"Ok, now I know. Thanks for telling me what happened to Mr. Lopez. That's 
another question I had been wondering about."

Roy blinked five times, getting hold of his own emotions."Uh,..you know where 
we're headed, right?"

"I do." said the man, motioning to his own partner that they were going to follow 
the rescue squad men and the truck numbered 51 whereever it went.

"Ok, ...Then I guess Marco, me and Johnny will meet ya there." Roy smiled 
artificially meek, as his partner all but yanked his arm out of its socket 
as he successfully dragged him out of the cafeteria.

As the two paramedics and the two policemen left the dining area, Dixie
and Dr. Brackett were coming in. 

Dixie was crushed. "Oh, no.. Now where are they off to?" she quailed.

"They probably have a response to handle. They.. are.. still on duty. I heard
Roy call their squad available over the base station radio as we were
coming here." said Brackett.

"They can do that with Marco as a passenger?"

"Sure, why not?  His replacement's already at the station taking over.
I heard that from Captain Stanley himself about his personnel change  
over the same channel to their Battalion Chief. Marco'd just be tagging 
along, Dixie, and still resting under their direct supervision."

"Not what I'd call a great way to spend Christmas. It's cold out there tonight."

"Whatever their trouble is, at least they're together. And we're just
gonna have to live without knowing anything more until after the holidays,
Dix."

"Somehow, I'm not feeling so merry anymore." said Dixie with a sad pout.
"And I won't be anytime soon, not until I learn that they're all truly ok." she 
promised, wiping a sudden wetness out of her nose and eyes.

"Shhh," Brackett soothed her. "That's no way to spend Christmas. Tell you
what, let's spend it together come midnight at my house, and I promise you 
that I'll make a few well placed phone calls using my supposed considerable 
paramedic business clout around city hall."

Dixie nodded blandly, barely appeased, and together, they left the food line 
for their mutual work stations in the busy E.R..
 

-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Detective Joe Friday leaned on Captain Stanley's office desk and polished
one of his shoes by swiping at it with a clean handkerchief. "We can't wait 
for your men to return any longer, Mr. Stanley. Our other assignment has a 
very firm deadline that we must meet.  We have to have that second case 
fully solved by midnight."

"Just what do you expect me to do about it, fellas? I'm not a mind reader.
I don't know where my men are." Hank protested. Boot, in his lap, started 
whining. "Shh, easy Boot. These are the good guys. We can trust them, 
I think." he muttered.

"Murder is never pretty, Mr. Stanley. Believe us when we tell you that we'll
do everything in our power to make sure your man walks free from these charges.
It's only a matter of time before the real murderer steps forward."

"Oh, really." Cap scoffed. "Have you found any witnesses to that effect?"

"Not yet." said Gannon softly. He set down his nearly empty chowder mug
and he spun it around morosely on the desk with a calloused thumb.

"That's why we want to borrow Boot here." admitted Friday at last.

Cap's eyes squinted. "You're going to use him to track scents in that alley?"

"Yes. Very astute of you." said Joe monotone. "Using dogs to solve crime 
scenes is something I've been trying to get the department heads to buy for
years. Maybe Johnny Gage's case will finally be the one that shows my
superiors the true worth of a canine's incredible sense of smell. I know they 
can fathom out clues where none remain obvious to the rest of us human 
detectives."

"And we'll take along Johnny as encouragement for your dog. You said he 
works hard for the people with whom he's formed an attachment." Gannon
added. "Please, captain. Call your Squad Unit 51 and tell them to report to
the alley where it happened in five minutes. We'll be meeting them there."

Stanley fingered the live HT on his desktop with an empty, pained look.
"You know my man Marco's with them."

"We know. In fact, we're counting on his presence as positive 
impetus for Boot to perform. Lopez's emotions should drive out the instincts
in him that we need to help us disprove the state's case against Johnny
Gage one hundred percent." Gannon said.

Without saying anything more, Cap opened a drawer next to his knee and he
drew out a hardly worn black leather collar with a fire department trumpet on it 
and a light rope leash. He held it out to Gannon firmly for him to take. "These are 
Boot's. He knows that he'll be asked to actively work a scene once he's wearing 
them."

"Thank you, captain." said Friday. "We appreciate this greatly. Boot may
yet prove to be the big break we've all been waiting for." he said.

"I dearly hope so, for Johnny and Marco's sakes." nodded Hank seriously.

He watched as Bill Gannon clipped on the leash and collar on the wanderer fire
station dog. Boot immediately sat up with interest, looking up at the detective
and then towards the engine bay. "Ok, you do your part captain, and I promise,
we'll do ours." said the gray haired man. The two detectives left the station
with a very eager Boot on their heels for the unmarked tan Fairlane which was
lying hidden and parked in the station's sidedrive.

When they had gone, Hank lifted up his HT and called Squad 51.
"Engine 51 to Squad 51. Report."

##This is Squad 51. Still 10-8. ## came Roy's puzzled voice over his
handheld radio.

"Squad 51. Rendevous to a Code 6A with Unit H/5K. They are on Tach 2. 
Respond a Code 2-High, on my order, a.s.a.p., to their twenty."

## 10-4, affirmative. Switching to Tach 2 for H/5K. We will advise L.A.
when we're on location. Also, uh....our Code I is very 10-2, Engine 51.
He is currently 10-12.##

Cap dropped his head in utter relief at the news that Marco was fine
and discharged from Rampart officially. He wasn't too pleased with the
fact that he was with Roy and Johnny on the way to another foray into
Dragnet's current murder investigation. ::But then again, beggers can't
be choosers.:: he decided.

A whooping holler of pure delight echoed resoundedly through the vehicle
bay. It was Chet Kelly. He came running into Cap's office. "I heard! I heard!
Yey! Marco's ok, fellas! Roy just said as much over the radio."

Cap rose from his seat and hung in the doorway, studying the rest of the
gang as they gathered around the wall map excitedly to talk. Kelly was 
working on straightening out the spare I.V. box and oxygen equipment 
with Gil Robertson, Marco's replacement for the evening. He couldn't help
but smile.

Gil Robertson looked up from the rag he was using to clean the chrome
on the resuscitator. "You're not the only one good at police codes, Kelly.
H/5K?...hmm  that's Homicide/Detective Support Section and a Code 6A
is ..."

"..'Out of Car on Investigation, Requires Assistance.' " replied an equally radio
savvy Mike Stoker. 

Kelly's smile never wavered, "Right, and Code 2-High means top priority but
with no lights or sirens. And Marco's still with em in the squad." then his face
fell. "I wonder what they're up to?"

Cap happily filled them in. "You've been hearing our detectives' work up to here 
all day. Now they're saying it's time for a little bloodhound action from Boot in 
that alleyway."

"To catch a thief?" Gil guessed eagerly, still in the dark about everything.

"To catch a killer." Cap corrected. "Chet, fill Robertson in on the latest concerning 
Gage. I'm giving you permission. D*mned if I'm going to keep a secret from one
firefighter concerning another one."

Kelly fell to with Gil in a huddle with Stoker and the animated talking began.

Cap restlessly ambled over to the open garage doors with his hands in his
pockets to fill his lungs with the cool night air blowing around him. The 
heavily darkening sky was filled with moonshine and the oddly sharp 
light from a single bright star, rising in the east. 

Try as he might to believe otherwise, Hank swore up and down, 
that it was winking at him.

--------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
::Thank goodness it's too dark to see the bloodstains.:: thought Johnny. 
::I don't see any. Maybe someone's already washed them away with a 
garden hose to keep the curious from lingering.:: 

On the way in, they had learned about Boot coming to meet them in the 
unmarked detective's car through one of Cap's updates to L.A..

Soon, they were there. Gage, Marco, Roy got out of the squad at
once, turning off the ignition. It was quiet in the alleyway; broken only
by the sound of the police squad car that had followed them from Rampart
as it pulled up behind them. And by the sound of Boot, running joyfully 
to them from someplace else that was out of sight. He was dragging his
working leash behind him.

Johnny and Roy were worried for Marco's sake about seeing where
his young cousin had died, but Boot stayed near and helped distract
him from thinking about it too much.

"So where are they?" Johnny demanded of the two police officers.
"My friend hasn't got all night. He needs a place to lie down 
in the worst way." he said about Marco, exaggerating a bit.
Lopez subtly kicked him in the ankle to pipe down. "Johnny.. I'm 
fine..." he hissed.

"We'll check on the other end of the alley for their car." said
the cop and he and his partner turned on flashlights for the trip
towards the church. "If your dog is here. They're here." he said.

Soon, they were swallowed up in darkness.

Johnny smiled when he looked up at a familar outline of a brick building
on his left next to its steeple. "Hey, Roy. Look. My old apartment
building."

All the windows were dark, except for one. In the topmost left corner
story, a brightly festooned Christmas tree was illuminating it from
a lightless living room.

"That's my old place. Nice to know someone's still living there."
he said, pointing to the apartment displaying the glowing tree.

"You used to live there?" Marco asked, stooping to pet Boot for
some comfort. The shaggy dog nuzzled the place where Marco's
I.V. had once connected. "It's ok, boy. I'm better now. So don't
fret. Go with the detectives. You're working for them tonight."

Boot whined indecision but then he turned and faced the alley way.
He didn't have to go very far. The two cops had located the two 
detectives.

"Let's start this, shall we?" asked Friday, gathering up Boot's lead.
"Can you get him going for us?"

"Sure.." said Johnny. He knelt by the brown dog and said one 
command. "Seek, Boot. Go find what's wrong. We'll stay right here. 
Ok? Go, Boot."

Deftly, Friday released the leash's catch from the station dog's collar. 

Boot went.
 
Bill Gannon, Joe Friday, Johnny, Roy and Marco were just watching
Boot's third pass around the alleyway around the body silhouette
tape outline and yellow and black plastic barrier square fluttering in
the wind from orange cones, when a man stepped out of the shadows.

Joe Friday started. "Mr. Lorentz.. What are you doing out here?"

"I'm going to Christmas mass a little early. Father Rojas says
his two altar boys aren't feeling too well this evening. Says both
have a fever or something working on em. I may be needed to stand
in their place for the candle service." said Maxmillion. "What are you
doing with Johnny and Roy boys? They aren't being blamed for
Maria, are they?"

Gannon's suspicions were raised. "How did you know why we're here,
Mr. Lorentz?"

"I didn't for sure. I just tricked you into telling me. Johnny, did you get
the money for your bail ok?" Maxmillion asked Gage.

Roy and Johnny finally recognized the old man. "M- Max? What are y--  
Are you the one responsible for doing that? I thought Roy and the rest
of the guys from B and C shifts were the ones who put up my bail." 
wondered Johnny. 

Maxmillion the bum and religious store proprietor crowed in pure 
glee. "Ha! HA ha ha ha..I finally found a permanent way to pay you two 
fellas off for saving my life last year. That bail is completely nonrefundable. 
So don't even try to give it back to me. It belongs to the state of California 
now."

"Excuse me, Mr. Gage, Mr. DeSoto. Just what is your relationship to this
man?" cut in Joe Friday.

"He's our victim!" said Johnny, grabbing the old man's blue veined hand
and shaking it gratefully. "I mean, he was. Uh, it's a little hard to explain."
he said, grinning from ear to ear. Then he ignored the detectives's questions
while he caught up on news. "That smoke didn't give you pneumonia, Max? 
We were worried about ya. All of us were. The last we heard, they were 
bussing you off to the state old folks home for the homeless."

"Never happened. Heh. You see, I'm not quite as homeless as you and they
thought I was." winked Maxmillion.

"Oh.. uh, ... really?" asked Johnny.

"Really." said Bill Gannon. "Mr. Lorentz is the proud owner of that religious
curio shop right there behind us."

"He is?" rubbernecked Roy, squinting to peer at the dim storefront around
the parked rescue squad.

"I truly am. What else did you expect from me? Did you think that money 
you boys found while rescuing me, was all I had? I'm not stupid enough to 
leave all my eggs in one basket there, sonny. No siree. I have my adopted
brother to think about providing for, now don't I?" said Maxmillion.

Both detectives frowned. "Who would that be?" 
"Who would that be?"  asked both Johnny and Joe Friday simultaneously.
They both looked at each other in irritation.

Roy and Marco just smiled a bit through their tiredness at their mirrored 
reaction. They welcomed Boot into their arms when he had finished his 
trained thorough circuit of the alley way with vigorous pets and rubs 
onto his broad hairy back.

Maxmillion told them proudly. "Why it's good ol' Leonard Baptista,
my fine upstanding P.I.s. You remember me talking about him, my 
best-est friend and chess partner.. He's the one."

Gannon and Friday both sighed and shook their heads ruefully.
"The church boiler man."

"Huh?" asked Gage.

"Never mind." said Max looking more and more distressed when he
thought about his two paramedic saviors' predicament. "Say, Mr.
Fried Egg.."

"Friday."

"Whatever. How can you pin Maria's murder on him? They found children's
prints on the gun. And them only." declared Max, putting a protective arm
over Johnny's uniformed shoulders.

"What?" startled Johnny.

Bill and Joe didn't move.

Gage immediately got mad, so did Marco and Roy. And Boot, too,
when he sensed the change in his firehouse humans. His growl
spoke for all of them.

Johnny got angry, fast. "Why didn't you tell that to any of us in the first place?
Here I was, fretting it out in jail and then at the station and even over poor 
Marco here while we treated him for hypotensive crisis and you just sat
there keeping this information to yourselves?! Oh, ....man.."

"Some kids ...killed my cousin?" whispered Lopez.

Roy and Johnny immediately flanked him.

Marco waved them away. "Whose were they?"

"We don't know. They were smeared and only partial prints."
Bill Gannon said finally. 

"How did you know they were child sized, Mr, Lorentz?" Joe
said, looking at Maxmillion.

Maxmillion hung his head, deflecting his answer. "I heard
about your troubles, Johnny, on my fire department scanner 
and I wanted to help these investigators clear your name. 
You see I never got around to tellin ya fellas that I'm also
a closet P.I on the side." And he pulled out a richly polished
leather wallet. Inside lay a very high level detective's I.D. One
that Friday and Gannon knew only by reputation. And it was real.
"I work for 1K4Y directly." he said simply.

Joe raised his eyebrows in the first expression of amazement 
his partner Bill had ever seen. "Organized crime intelligence at 
investigative services headquarters? Sir, I'm honored." he
said, lifting his palm up to shake Max's.

"I don't get it." said Johnny. Even Lopez seemed shaken out
of his unpleasant thoughts surrounding the setting he found himself
standing in.

"Boys, think about it. I was heavy undercover during a deep
police sting operation when that fire broke out in the warehouse 
where you had to rescue me." Lorentz explained.

"But... but... what about all that money?" Marco asked.

"That was mine. I used my own because I didn't want to do it
any other way. You see, the part about my not trusting banks is still true.
You could say my first name describes my REAL financial standing."

"Maxi.....million?" Roy peeped.

Maxmillion J. Lorentz just nodded and smiled toothlessly. "Yep."
"And I plied my credentials at the forensics lab, 714 and 4848.
That's how I know about the small hand prints on that murder weapon."
he said fiercely. Then his face softened and he set a gentle hand on
Marco's shoulder. "Sorry, Marco.. I still don't have all the answers for
you. But I'm trying. And I'm trying real hard to clear you, Johnny, and 
come up with the reason why Maria died. There just aren't enough 
clues t--"

"Do you smell something?" Johnny asked when he saw Boot, sitting
at his feet, sniffing and sneezing, too. Boot began to bark in earnest
toward the tall apartment building looming over Father Rojas's church.

A sickly orange cast was just started to stain that solely lit holiday 
decorated upperstory window. And it jarred discordantly with the 
gay colors sparkling there.

"..oh, no...." Johnny moaned, as he recognized the sight and smell for
what it was.

It was a fire,.. starting quickly inside of the Christmas tree. 

Johnny started shouting at the detectives. "Call it in! Call it in! We
gotta get up there, now!"

"What? What are you seeing?" Gannon cried.

"A fire in my apartment unit!"

"A fire where? I thought you lived in Bear Claw Canyon.." Joe said
quickly, trying to see where Gage was pointing.

"I meant in my old apartment! Where I used to live. Up there!"
and he rushed to the squad as fast as he could run, throwing open
a gear compartment to get out his turnout coat. Then he jumped up 
top in the back to grab down two air bottles.

"Grab one down for me..." shouted Marco, gesturing.

"No way, Marco. The chief hasn't cleared you yet to work. Let L.A. know
that Johnny and I are going up there on a landline with scba gear!" 
ordered DeSoto.

Not happy, and holding tightly onto Boot's collar, Lopez made the call.
  
--------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Photo:  Brackett and Dixie discussing a matter over the base station.

Photo:  Johnny trying to drink coffee with a cop laughing nearby.

Photo:   Cap looking incredulous.

Photo:   Det. Bill Gannon explaining things.

Photo:   Det. Joe Friday looking caught.

Photo:   Chet and Gil Robertson cleaning the resuscitation gear.

Photo:   A blocked off body crime scene.

Photo:   Maximillion J. Lorentz, the gang, and a bag of money.

Photo:   Johnny Gage startling, looking up by the engine.

Photo:   An apartment with a Christmas tree on fire. Interior shot.

**************************************************
From: "Cory Anda" <andacory@hotmail.com> 
Date: Thu Dec 22, 2005  1:15 pm 
Subject: The Fire of the Soul... 


Roy hurried into full gear as fast as he could change into it. Already,
he could see that panicking, still sleepy sets of families were
making good their escape down the building's exterior stone staircase
as smoke in the stairwells started filling the air from the ceilings
on down. "Keep going!" he told them as he got out coils of rope 
for him and Johnny to use. "Head across the street and go into 
the church, you'll be safe there."Then he shouted at Johnny. "How 
many apartments do we have here?"

"Forty. Arranged four units deep each wing, two wings each floor
to ten stories."

"Sprinkler system?"

"Yes." he said as he and Roy jogged to the front entrance.
"And no elevator to speak of. It's one of the reasons why I
moved away from here."

Marco grabbed up their two life lines into his hands. "Be careful
in there, you guys. I got your backs. Here's a squad radio." he
told them, tossing Roy an HT. "The engine's two minutes out."

"Thanks, Marco. Don't get hit by falling false wall debris. There
are a pair of gargoyle corner stays right above the fire up there."
Johnny told him.

Lopez looked up, spotted them, and moved aside fifteen feet.
"I see them now." he said wrapping the ends of his coworkers' ropes
around both wrists. "Man, what a shame. This place has gorgeous
architecture."

"It isn't too late yet. Marco. It's not over until it's over." he grinned.
"Ok, in we go. Standard tugs ok?"

"Two for good going every three minutes." agreed Marco, buttoning 
up a spare overcoat he had grabbed from the squad. "I got the second
radio so we can keep in touch with one other."

Johnny and Roy both gave him a wave as they entered the building
with their masks on and ropes tied off to their waist harnesses.

"Roy, about where we're going.. the fire's tenth floor, 
apartment two on the end left corner. Two windows, one east
of the front door, one north directly opposite."

"Do you know how many people live there now?"

"No, I haven't a clue. Wish I did, Roy. Know what I mean?" he
said, hustling up the interior stairs right behind his partner. They met
several families coming down in the opposite direction, fleeing.
"That's right, keep going to the lobby!" Gage hollered. "There are firemen
down there at the bottom who'll help you get out of here! Move, keep down
by the floor in the thicker spots and you'll be able to breathe!" he told
them.

Soon, they were passing no more families. They had reached the tenth floor.

----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

The Dragnet detectives and the two street cops immediately began
to guide people away from the smoking building in droves. They soon
had help, when the sounds of arriving firefighting companies attracted 
the attention of church goers from their service. 


Father Rojas threw his doors wide open for refugees. "Come in, come in. 
Please, sit down. Who's hurt?" asked the kindly Xavier as he hustled his 
congregation and the holiday choir singers to attend and care for the 
evacuating families until the fire crews and paramedics and ambulances 
were ready to handle them. "Maxmillion? Could you go get the stack of
blankets from the sacristy? We should have about a dozen altogether."

Lorentz just nodded, helping one tearful mother in her holiday best sit down
with her baby onto a pew's seat. "I'll be right back." he promised the
frightened woman. "Don't worry, ma'am. You two are safe here.
We won't let anything happen to you. Good help's arriving soon. 
Is your baby daughter ok?"

"Y-Yes.." she said. "Uh, I think so."

"Is everybody in your family out of the building?"

Again, the crying mother nodded. "Everyone. It was just my husband 
and my stepfather at home. Apartment 120." she sobbed.

"Ok, just rest here a bit. There are four policemen here who'll help you 
out with her very soon. Ok."

"All right... Thank you Max.." she sobbed, clutching her sooty crying infant
to her damp cheek. "Shh, honey, it's ok. We're well out of there and safe.."

--------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------


Engine 51 arrived and received its working orders from Battalion One.
##Engine 51, lay two supply lines for Ladder Nine on the eastern exposure.
This will be an exterior attack only until we know the extend of the fire zone.
Stations 99 and 8, assist Squad 51 with victim evacuation from the south
and north entrances.## said the chief.

Cap immediately had Stoker pull the engine up to their assigned hydrant.
Chet Kelly grabbed the ends of the engine's two hoses and wrapped a 2 ˝
inch supply line around it, then he whistled. Mike pulled ahead using the
hydrant for leverage to yank folded hose down from the hose bed. The 
connections were swiftly made between hydrant, 51's reservoir and into 
Ladder Nine's active pump. Stoker got on the panel to coordinate their 
water feed when the bucket man was ready to charge the water cannon.

Hank paused briefly right outside the Ward's cab as he showed Gage's lawyer
how to fasten up his turnout jacket. "Sorry we had to drag you along, Mr. Cogley.
But your ride's here." he told Trent, pointing out the detectives' Fairlane, parked
in the still uneffected alleyway next to the compartment door opened rescue 
squad."Stay out of our way and stay clear of any charged lines. If you don't 
watch out, they're sure to buck and knock you flat."

"I understand, Captain. Where's Mr. Gage now?"

Stanley smiled. "Knowing him? He's most likely already up there." he said 
jerking a thumb at the flaming apartment that was starting to light
up the night sky. The bright star shining above, was now completely
hidden from view. Hank frowned.

"Can I speak with Marco when he's free?" asked the lawyer, still fumbling with
the helmet strap around his chin.

"Only if he wants to. He's officially not on duty. But, he's probably rather busy 
at the moment anyway, covering my paramedics' rears at the front entrance.
Where you can't go." he said firmly, to be sure the man did nothing stupid on
his fire scene.

"I'll wait, sir. Make sending him to me last." Trent said empathetically. "All
these other people come first."

"Glad to see lawyers don't have the idiot gene like some claim, Mr. Cogley. 
I'm going over to talk to him." 

"And I'll be at the church with the detectives if Marco chooses to talk to me."

"I'll tell him."
Hank adjusted his mask onto his face and his harness firmly 
over his coat. He jogged to Marco's side of the street, where he could see 
Lopez holding onto both of Roy and Johnny's lifelines. "How long have 
they been in there?"

"Three and a half minutes, Cap. I got their tank start up times right here. He said,
pointing to the skin on his wrist where he had written them down with a pen.
coughed Marco. "So far, Johnny says it's just the one apartment." he said
holding up his HT meaningfully. Then his face screwed up as acrid smoke
from burning cloth stung his unprotected eyes.

"Ok, I got these. Go get out of here and out of this smoke." he ordered. "It's too 
thick now to go unprotected." he said, tapping on his faceplate.

"But, Cap."

"You're inactive, Marco. On the injured list. You know the rules. Go." Cap told him.
Then he looked over Marco's uniformed shoulder. "Robertson! Kelly! On the double.
Man DeSoto and Gage's lifelines. They're on the tenth floor." he told his men.
Then he meaningfully snatched the chattering paramedic handheld radio out of 
Marco's fingers. "And by the way, our resident lawyer wants a few words with you."

Reluctantly, Lopez got out of the billowing smoke drifting down the building's side,
accepting a mask handed out to him from one of 99's men for a few snorts.
The firefighter was going in with a dry attack line coil for the stairwell hose 
connector on the top landing. "You ok?" asked the man as Marco coughed 
and pulled a few clean breaths of air from his scba gear. "I saw you face naked
from all the way over there."

"Yeah. I'm not on duty. But I was here when it started. Thanks." he said, taking in a 
last shot of good air. He returned it to the fireman with a nod. "I'm headed for the 
church to see what I can do over there."

"I'll let the chief know." promised the man. "Are you one of 51's?"

"Yes. But on the inactives' list. My captain knows where I'll be."

"Ok..I'd hold off on a chat with the chief then." waved the man as he 
put his mask and helmet back on and nodded to his fire bud that they could
leave.

"Good luck in there.." Lopez gave the team a thumbs up. They left his side
and disappeared into the smoke and darkness filling the alley way. On a thought,
he stopped by the squad, where he had shoved Boot for safety, and took him out
on his leash. ::Maybe he can calm all these kids down.:: Marco thought as he saw
the building's residents being helped into the church's well lit annex.

He went inside, going to Father Rojas's side at once.

---------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Rojas immediately approached him. "Maxmillion's gone to the sacristy
for some blankets for the youngest ones. Is there a paramedic team 
coming for all these folks yet?"

"I can sure find out, Father." said Marco, looking to the entrance where a street 
cop was standing as a guide. He could hear his belt radio clearly.

Maxmillion ran up to the both of them. "Marco. There's a baby over there
coughing from the smoke. Can you see what you can do?"

"Of course..Here, take over Boot's leash from me." said Lopez and he 
quickly spotted the nervous mother and the infant. He waved over one 
of the police officers who had followed them from Rampart and told him to 
radio out to Battalion to get a fireman in with some oxygen tanks for the 
worst of those smoke effected. Then he took the baby from her 
mother and started calming both of them down by speaking in soft Spanish. 
All the while, he watched the child carefully until the time came for one of 
the paramedics to stop a crowd status sweep, long enough to prioritize her. 

He then started to notice that several people had taken to lying down on
the floor in front of the altar on their blankets. He gave the baby back
to the mother with a smile. "I've got to go now. She's not having any trouble
breathing here. I think she's just a little scared because you are..."

Lopez excused himself and went over to the open space by the altar. "Hey.. is
everybody ok over here? I'm with the Los Angeles County Fire Department."
Five exhausted heads lifted from the floor quickly and most nodded that they
were. But then Marco noticed two youngish boys bundled up on the first pew.
What attracted his attention was the fact that they both wore church robes.
"Boys. What's wrong? Are you sick from being outside too near the fire?" he
asked them. 

The first just moaned. "Whaa?....a fire? Oh, I feel sick." he said 
without opening his eyes. "Let me go back to sleep, ok.? I promise I won't
make any more.. *gasp* ...noise, Father.." he whispered hoarsely, misidentifying
who Lopez was.

The second altar boy, didn't move.  "Hey.." Marco shouted, shaking the 
blond haired child's shoulder. He recognized him at once. "Joseph.. Joseph 
Hefferman.. Can you hear me?" The boy didn't react. Marco lifted his head 
and began yelling for Father Rojas and the policemen. "Father! Both your 
altar boys are in serious trouble. Get help!"

Lopez noticed that the boys' faces were hot and flushed. There 
was a damp stain of vomit on the edge of the blanket under Joseph that he 
almost missed. Marco carefully tipped back Joseph's head and listened closely 
for any attempt at breathing. The ill looking boy was doing it, weakily, so Lopez
balled up the blanket and wadded it under his shoulders to keep the boy's
head fallen back enough for a good airway while he monitored his wrist pulse
with worry.

Father Rojas came instantly when he heard his name with a firefighter in tow
who was carrying a portable oxygen case. 

Marco and the lieutenant quickly got two masks set up, a flowing nonrebreather 
for the partially awake child and the demand valve, he set up for Joseph so 
Lopez could aid him at will."How long have these two been like this?" Marco
asked Xavier as he watched the firefighter call for a paramedic to come to their 
location. He frowned and began to ventilate Joseph with a thumb trigger 
when his chest suddenly began to bubble under his ear.

"They were just sleeping, Marco. I sent them both over here to nap during the 
mass. Joseph did say that he and little James weren't feeling too well. He said
it felt like the flu coming on."

"In both of them?" Marco asked.

"Yes. The boys didn't want to raise a fuss by calling
their fathers to come take them home before the services were over." fluttered Rojas.

"They're not sleeping now, Father. Something's making them black out."

"What?" said the old priest, bending closer for another look. "They weren't
this bad a few minutes ago. Joseph was just blowing his nose. Oh, my word."

"Have they been playing anywhere strange today? This is important, Father.
I already know that they haven't gotten into any of that smoke out there. James 
didn't even know that there was a fire going on outside."

"Well, no, nothing comes to mind, ah..." he gripped his head. "It's been a busy 
day. We've all been tired since early morning." said the Padre. Then he coughed.

Lopez looked up sharply. "Xavier are you nauseated, too? With a headache?"
he said, handing over the resuscitator to the fire lieutenant to take over. He
rose to his feet and held the churchman's shoulders.

"A little bit. Funny, I.. didn't feel this way a half an hour ago."

Marco quailed. "Father Rojas. Get everybody to open up every door 
in the church. All the windows, too."

"What? Why?" he said as he motioned well trained robed assistants to do just that. 

"If I'm right, there's poisonous gas building up in here from somewhere."

"Impossible. We don't use gas. We have all electric."

On the bench, little James stirred restless underneath the steadying hand of
the firefighter working on his best friend. "..Leo.. Leo!....Go get Leo. He's sick, too.
Real bad... Joseph and I couldn't get him out of bed for the Christmas mass."

A feeling of dread overcame both the firefighter and Marco. "Oh, no. Does this 
place have a boiler room?" guessed the fireman venting the little boy.

"Yes. Blocked flue or chimney for sure. That boiler's brand new..." said Lopez rising 
suddenly. He grabbed his HT. "HT 51 to Battalion One. Possible carbon monoxide
leak at my twenty! At least four victims. We need an immediate fire company 
at the church!"

"Marco! Leonard Baptista must still be down in the basement. I thought it odd 
that he wasn't here to listen to the singing tonight." said Xavier.

"Ok, ..I'm gone with him. Soon, they'll be, too." said the firefighter nodding at
the evacuees, as he lifted up Joseph into his arms. He kept up his mask delivered 
breaths on the boy as the policeman picked up the other boy and the tank. "Outside, 
everybody back outside!" the lieutenant shouted, stirring up the groggy sleepers on 
the floor with a boot. Then he turned to Lopez. "Take off my air bottle. You're gonna 
need it if you check the lower level for that man. I'll get back to you with a full team 
as soon as I get these two to a paramedic."

Boot, the dog, was coughing now, even at the main doors, and Maxmillion J. Lorentz,
noticed it. "Hey, boy, don't pull at your leash so much. We're ok here. At least, I
think so. " Then the words "...bad boiler.." echoed down to him from the rafters from 
somewhere near the back of the church. Their significance didn't sink in until he saw 
little Joe and James being rushed out of the church, both with oxygen masks pressed 
firmly against their faces, their gold and ivory robes fluttering in the wind.
"Baptista.. you crazy ol codger. If you've killed yourself, I'll never forgive you!" he 
hissed, tying off Boot's leash to a lamp post on the street. He craftily followed
the repanicked crowds abandoning the church, going with the flow, until he
reached a special side door which led to the basement. Taking a deep breath,
Maxmillion, slipped inside.

---------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Detective Friday, heard a door slam at the church from where he and his
partner were watching from a good vantage point. It was one that he knew 
which opened from the dark alleyway. "Come on, Bill. That didn't sound right."
he said, throwing his cigarette away. 

"What didn't?"

"That slamming door. I think someone who's not a firefighter went down
after Leonard Baptista."

"Was it Lorentz?"

"None other. Look, Boot's tied up on that street light . A minute ago, Max was
still holding him."

"Gonna tell somebody?"

Joe didn't reply. He just opened the Fairlane's door that he had been
leaning on and got on the CB, switching it to the fire command frequencies.
"744 and 4848 to Battalion One. Urgent."

##Go ahead, H/5K.## said the fire chief.

"We just eyeballed one of our men doing something stupid at the church.
He's gone into the basement after a man possibly trapped in all that gas."

##10-4 on that. Speeding up our response teams. Battalion One out.##

The two Rampart police officers met up with the detectives and Trent Cogley
to keep out of all the firefighters' way. "What's new?" Trent said, still in the
dark about the church gas leak and Maxmillion's disappearance.

"Maybe another pair of DBs." Joe replied. He wasn't beneath shocking 
the frilly laywer.

"What?!" Trent choked spitting out the mug of coffee he had been given by
a church volunteer. "Whose this time?"

"A retarded boilerman in the church basement."

"And probably soon, his best friend. He just rolled the dice by going 
down after the guy while trying to brave a sea of carbon monoxide."
Bill Gannon told him.

"He won't make it." said one of the cops. "I've seen this a thousand times.
CO can kill in less than ten minutes in high enough concentrations."

"Ah, but these fire boys know they're down there. Maybe that'll make em
just a little bit quicker on the draw." Joe hoped. "And maybe, they'll both
make it out of there."

Joe angled his head, seeing an altar boy being loaded onto an ambulance
stretcher. "Say, Bill. Isn't that James Cormeen and little Joe over there?"

Gannon jolted. "It sure is."

"Who are they?" Trent Cogley asked.

"Two altar boys who served at mass the same day Maria was killed." said 
Bill." I wonder what happened to them." he replied. "They look bad."

"Let's find out." Joe nodded. He and Bill and Trent 
left the two cops behind at the car and soon, they were kneeling by both 
ambulance gurneys as they awaited loading by the two paramedics caring 
for the apneic boy. "L.A.P.D." Friday announced himself to the paramedic 
team. "How are they doing?" he said, putting his badge away after the busy
medic had gotten a good look at it.

"One's been intubated as you can see. He's most likely down from carbon 
monoxide asphyxia."

"And the other one?" asked Bill, studying James Cormeen's reddish face.

"He's got a better chance of recovery. He got less gas we think." replied
Station 8's medic.

"Mind if we talk to him?"

The paramedic sighed. "Yes. We gotta get these two to a hospital a.s.a.p. We
still don't have consent to treat for either one."

"You do now." said Joe firmly. 

"What?"

"I've just put them into protective custody. Treat away." said Friday.
"Starting those I.V.'s will give us time for some questions."

The paramedic rubbed his sooty nose. "Just don't wear him out or you'll
have me to answer to." he warned, handing off the biophone to his partner
already in the Mayfair, venting Joseph one handed. "I know how you
investigators work. You're ..all ..dry and facts hungry."

"Actually, he's real gentle under that iron exterior." Bill grinned wanly.

Eight's man grinned faintly. "I'll believe it when I see it. The boy's 
a bit confused, but if you go slow. He'll answer you. His name
is James." he said, getting another blood pressure off the moaning
altar boy.

"We know." said Joe, then he crouched down by Cormeen's side.
"James... Can you hear me? It's the police. It's really important that you
answer a few questions about your illness. Why were you two in the 
boiler room with Leonard Baptista?"

"We had ...to make sure.. he was ok. We've been protecting...him."
sighed the boy under the breathing mask. "We don't want him
to get arrested.. "

"Why?" smiled Bill, holding the groggy boy's hand. "What for?"

James' face screwed up, startling the medic, who instantly checked
his airway status with a hand to his chest. "..It's all .... our fault."
sobbed the boy. "Joseph and me... We found it in Leo's cookie jar.
We didn't mean to do it. Honest.."

Joe's eyes glinted softly. "You mean you found the gun."

"Yes. We didn't mean to hurt her. We were aiming at all the garbage
cans. We....didn't even know she was there...Joe thinks one 
of the shots bounced off one of the loose bricks lying in the alley and 
hit her." he cried, bright tears flowing down his face.  "Oh, G*d..
We just wanted to know what it felt like to shoot like the Lone Ranger
does. He looks so cool with his." he cried, gasping.
 
"What happened this morning after you saw Maria fall to the ground?"

"We dropped it and ran away. There was a man in a white jeep coming."

"Johnny Gage..." whispered Trent Cogley in Joe's ear.

Joe nodded. "It's ok, son. Maria's death was an accident. Try to relax now.
You've gotten it off your chest. But...one more thing, can you tell me if 
Leonard's still alive in the church's basement?"

"Yes.. Joseph and I saw him at the seventh cantas."

Bill looked at his watch. "That was fifteen minutes ago."

Father Rojas stepped out of the shadows, and he had heard every
word. "G*d forgives the little children, detective. When their hearts fully
realize their sins."

"You're forgetting Marco and his family, Father. What about them? If any
real forgiving's to be done, the absolution must come from them as well."
Joe said. "Or the boy won't be able to find his peace. He's too young to
understand anything else."

"You might be surprised, Detective. The soul knows more than you think
when its been properly guided. James was Maria's best vocal student.
A lot of her is already deeply embedded inside of him. He loves life 
too much to let it go like that. Faith can bring one very, very far along
at times."

"Then why are you giving Joseph here his last rites?" Friday asked cynically.
He pointed to the purple satin stole around Xavier's neck as the Padre
motioned the sign of the cross over the second still boy getting bagged 
by ET on an ambu.

"Because I must when I find that a soul's in mortal danger. It is one of my jobs
on this earth. Just like it was yours to uncover those who accidently took Maria's."
said Xavier sadly.

----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Marco Lopez could hardly see through his air mask. But he knew the church 
well enough to get where he wanted to be in less than a minute.

Leonard Baptista was only inside the next room, he knew, with his cot near the
boiler for added warmth. ::I only hope I get there in time.:: he wished.

----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Photos: None.

**************************************************
From: "Roxy Dee" <laterrapincabesa@hotmail.com> 
Date: Thu Dec 22, 2005  8:58 pm 
Subject: Times Two~~ 


"Leonard!?... Leonard!! Can you hear me? It's Marco Lopez..." he shouted,
shoving his shoulder against the door he could see chain secured which led
to the small dormitory next to the large round boiler. As he feared, Leonard
was lying face down on a simple, unadorned cot devoid of sheets or blankets
inside the tiny clean white washed room.

He broke the chain on the second try using the air bottle on his back as
a battering ram against the door. A quick snatch on a lever above the huge 
church boiler on the chimney flue made it open easily with a yank and a crumpled 
bird's nest along with several dead pigeons fell into the fire from the ventilation
hole leading to the roof. :: Those birds must have knocked this shut accidentally
somehow. Especially if they had been trying to warm themselves there.:: A knock
of his helmet against the window popped open its panes and the cool night
air began to flood in and flow up the newly opened chimney. ::That'll get rid
of most of this gas.:: Marco thought.

Then there was no more time to waste. Lopez didn't even bother with a vitals check
on Baptista. He grabbed up the man and balanced him between a shoulder
and the bottom of his air bottle and ran for the spiral staircase leading back up
into the church proper.

He had no sooner gone when Maxmillion came crashing through the opened door
from the hidden back stairwell and straight into a pool of carbon monoxide that had
settled there from the temperature change. Lorentz slipped on a fallen newspaper
and landed on his rear. It caused him to lose the breath he was holding. Maxmillion
struggled to his feet when he saw that Leonard wasn't on the bed any longer and
he panicked, trying for the window and the fresh air that Marco had just liberated.

He failed to get there in time and the insidious, invisible fumes wafting about
the still stuffy room snuffed out his consciousness. Maxmillion slumped to the floor 
in a graceless heap, limp.

--------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Outside, Boot was frantic. His barks of warning had gone unheeded by the hustling
firefighters dashing through the darkness around him and he leaped and strained
against the leash bound to the street light.  All of his attention was focused on
the alley way where Maxmillion Lorentz had gone. 

Hank Stanley looked up toward Boot. ::I wonder what's gotten him so riled up?:: 
A few seconds later, word finally came out from Marco in the church that the 
basement CO victim had been found over a police radio. He ran for the steps of 
the pueblo style church and intercepted him, motioning for one of 99's paramedics 
to meet them with full medical gear.  ::So that's why. A victim's coming out.:: he 
guessed wrongly. He petted Boot's back in affection as he jogged by. "It's ok,
boy. We got him. He's coming right here." Hank told the excited dog.
 
Lopez soon appeared out of the church and was helped with his burden 
by several masked firefighters. "I know. I know, Cap. I'm off duty."

"I didn't see anything, Lopez. Hurry up and let go of him." Stanley said firmly.

Baptista was lowered to the ground and Cap immediately got on the man's head as
an oxygen apparatus was cracked and set next to him. Lopez shed his scba and
opened Leo's shirt so they could clearly see the upper half of his body. Cap knelt 
low as he listened to the red, sweaty man's nose and mouth. "Nope." he told Lopez
and the paramedic waiting with a positive pressure valve mask. "Not breathing."


Leonard immediately got ventilated while Hank slid his fingers into the groove
next to the man's adam's apple. He soon waved Marco off the man's chest where he
had laced still fingers in a waiting for CPR position. "Got a carotid, but it's thready 
and irregular." Cap told the medic and Lopez both. Marco took his hands
away, sighing in relief, finally giving in to the effort that it took to rescue his victim.
He sagged onto his butt on the pavement.

"We've got him from here, guys." said 99's partner, who appeared from around 
the corner at a run with an HT cocked to his ear. "Thanks."

"O.k., we're clearing." sighed Hank and he got back on his feet. Then he turned to
Lopez. "What did you find in there?" he said squatting down by Marco. He helped him
unbutton his turnout so he could cool down a little.

"Birds and a nest. They must have knocked the flue shut. I reopened it. I also
got the room's only window thrown open."

"Good going. That'll do whole bunches for airing out the rest of the church on our 
level." said Hank. "Now do I have to tell you to sit down for a while? You're
as white as he is." Stanley quipped, throwing a head over to Leonard who was getting
prepared for an endotracheal intubation on a doctor's order.

"Sitting's real nice, Cap. You don't have to tell me twice." Marco coughed.
The commotion Boot was making finally got through to Hank and Marco. 
Lopez lifted his head. "Wait a minute, where's Maxmillion?" he asked Stanley.

"Who?"

"Lorentz. You remember that old bum we rescued from that burning mattress fire
last year who had it stuffed full of money..."

"Yeah, I remember him, the crazy coot." admitted Hank. "What does he have to do 
with anything?"

"He's not what he seems, Cap. He's a detective and he's been helping Johnny, too.
He was supposed to be right here, watching Boot for me. He said he'd do it while
I got his friend out."

Boot's loud barks continued unabated and only then did Lopez and Cap realize what
that meant. He was focused on someone else in trouble.

Captain Stanley rubbed his forehead. "Uh, oh. Are you thinking what I'm thinking?"

"Yeah, and I don't think I like it at all." declared Marco, slipping on his air mask again.

Quickly, Captain Stanley drew out a jack knife from his belt and sliced through Boot's
leash, freeing him. The search dog immediately tore for the alleyway. "Yep. The old
geezer's up and done it. He most likely went in directly after you, Marco. Go. Take 
Gil in as backup. He's right by our engine over there. And bring Boot inside with you. 
He'll find him faster."

"What about all the monoxide, Cap?"

"It's probably cleared out by now. You did say you got the window open."

"Right." Lopez took off at a run, hand signalling to Robertson to follow him for
a victim search.

In the same instant, Battalion One came over the handheld frequency with the news 
about a second victim possibly being in the basement of the church as reported
by Unit H/5K. ::Those detectives again?:: thought Captain Stanley. ::Man, they sure
get around. But Boot's beaten them to it this time.::

Hank forced himself to trust his men to keep themselves breathing safe for the 
second run into the church. His attention focused back onto the apartment building
where Roy and Johnny and others were fast sweeping through for lagging victims.
::Come on, come on. That tree's pure tinder. I give that living room about a minute
more to remain livable. Then it'll be too late for anyone, victim or firefighter, still 
caught inside.::

----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Photos: None.

**************************************************
From: "patti keiper" <pattik1@hotmail.com> 
Date: Sun Dec 25, 2005  4:21 pm 
Subject: Miracle on Alleyway Street.. 

 
Captain Stanley couldn't wait any longer to hear from his medical
men on the tenth floor. ##Engine 51 to HT 51. Just exactly, where 
is the fire? The aerial bucket is lining up her nozzle as we speak!##
shouted Cap into his handheld.

Gage gasped as he and Roy rounded the last bend to stop 
before the still closed front door of the renter's apartment. 
"To the right of the exterior window along the outer wall as you're
looking at it from the street!" shouted Johnny in reply into the talkie's 
pickup as he ran and tugged his lifeline into reach behind himself. 

##Will do. Watch out for flying glass! We're charging and firing in 
full water now!## said Hank.

"Maybe that'll buy us some more time here." coughed Roy in his mask.
"This door's real hot. Almost too hot."

"Yeah, well, here's hoping. I'm kicking it in!" Gage yelled as he backed 
up.

On the third try, the door popped open and a searing mushroom
cap of fire belched out the top of the doorspace as the air from
the hallway rushed in and fed its raging appetite.

They found the only two occupants, conscious and huddled in
the bathroom under a running stream of cold water. 

Throwing a large bedspread over themselves and their two
air masked covered victims, Roy and Johnny got out of there as 
fast as they could. Seconds later, the hose team rushed in to
battle the living room fire with an ample fan of water.

"HT 51 to Battalion One. Bringing out two live ones. Both conscious.
Have two ambulance gurneys waiting in the street for us. They have
moderate heat exposure but only mild smoke inhalation." DeSoto 
declared happily to the firemen outside over his HT. "Engine 51. FYI..
we're coming down the fire escape on the north side if you want men 
to meet us there."

##Copy that, HT 51. Nice work. O2 is standing by.## said Stanley.

----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
Marco Lopez and Gil Robertson shoved their way past unseen
spilled garbage cans in the alleyway, until they forced their way
into the stairwell door that Boot had nosed open.

"Boot! Sound off, boy!" Lopez yelled into the darkness as he
and Gil clattered down the stairs in their scba gear.

"Bark!.. Bark!" came an echo just down the narrow basement
passageway.

"Straight down, to the left. The left!" Marco gestured eagerly at
Robertson. "The room's lit up. Second door."

Gil and he soon saw Boot's urgent, whining form as he licked
the face of the comatose Maximillion lying on his back on
the floor. "There he is. Right there." pointed Gil.

The two firefighters rushed to the old detective/bum's side and
pulled off their gloves to feel for a pulse and signs of respirations
through the man's shirt. "He's ok. He's ok...!" Marco declared.
He let go of Lorentz's stomach and soon, the two of them were
carrying the man out of the church by his legs and arms followed
by a worried prancing Boot, the whole way out, to where a rescue 
squad waited with a yellow tarp and spread out medical gear.

Once laid on the street, Lorentz was reassessed and given a flood
of oxygen until he started grunting in protest at the fussing his head 
and face were getting from the ventilating fireman.

Marco leaned in close to his ear. "Maxmillion. It's deja vu all over
again I'm afraid. Guess who's shaking some sense back into ya?" 
he grinned.

"My money!" Lorentz startled as he awaken fully on the next breath.

"It's safe and still whereever you've hidden it this time. Now I'm telling
you to lie still to let Roy and Johnny take more than just a good look 
at you on the monitor, ok?" Lopez said in half warning. Then he smiled 
fully and felt all of his fatigue melt away like water.

"You sure about that? Where's Leonard? I..." Lorentz coughed.

Roy DeSoto piped up from where he was dressing light burns on
the hands of the two victims he and Johnny had rescued. "Breathing
and on his way to Rampart Hospital. Which is where you're going
too."

"Not gonna argue with you. Don't think....I have enough puff ...with
which to do it." gasped Maxmillion. "But I am ...gonna say...
thanks. From him.. and me..*cough cough cough*"

"You're welcome.." Lopez told him. "Roy, how many victims
shall I say are coming to the hospital?"

"Three. These two should be evaluated, too, as soon as possible 
for some smoke inhalation."

"You sure got them out fast." Marco said, picking up the biophone
antennae and plugging it into the receiver port.

"They were easy to find. They were using a shower curtain as
a smoke screen under some running water." Gage shared.

"Wow, that was clever thinking. Most people hide in the closet 
and bake a bit first before they realize that it's a bad idea getting
into a tiny space." Lopez replied.

----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Joe Friday let go of the hat he had been clutching tightly, rolled like
a log in his hands. "Wow. I had no idea what firefighters go 
through on their actual day to day. They really stick their 
necks out, don't they?  Guess a fire's not like a bullet at all, 
which you can sometimes see coming. What do you think, Bill?"

"I knew there was a reason for that larger paycheck of theirs. 
I just don't think I've ever realized it, until now, you know? Don't 
think I'll complain to the city payroll about the difference again. 
I just wouldn't feel right about it. They sure are something special."

"Yeah. Six lives saved in one night's work? Incredible. 
Especially notable on this night of all nights. I hope their superiors 
realize what kind of men they have at their disposal. They're way 
beyond just being good at what they do." said Joe, lighting up a 
cigarette and offering the flame to his partner who had pulled out one 
of his own. 

"I'm sure they see that. Hank Stanley in particular. Did you see the way
he protected his men from even the slightest bit of harm? Our own captain 
could learn whole chapters about looking out for Sam Small from him." 
nodded Bill with conviction.

"I personally, have never seen him treat junior officers or public P.I.s badly.
Are you saying our captain lacks character, Bill?" montoned Friday.

"No. All I said was,  Captain Mack IS a character who could learn a lot
from that fire captain right-over-there's example." Bill said.

"I thought that that was what you said. Thanks for clarifying." Joe replied
dryly. But he was smiling.

"No problem, Joe. " As the nearly bald, hawkish detective opened his car door,
the crowds still waiting along the street for the fire crews to give the final word on
their progress in airing the two buildings, grew quiet and suddenly respectful when
the young mother with the baby Marco had held earlier, started to sing a touching,
soft solo of one of the oldest Christmas carols known.  A tentative, unaccompanied 
old ballad, ..Silent Night. It was quickly picked up, joyfully, by Father Rojas's church 
choir, still standing in a group on the curb in their sparkling holiday robes. 

And immediately, the two downtown detectives knew that it was to thank all the fire 
stations for all that they had done. "Oh, would you look at that?" said Bill, as the
overhead eastern star made a reappearance as the smoke from the upper story 
apartment steamed and fizzled away into nonexistence above them. "It's just 
going on midnight. It's Christmas Day." said the younger investigator. "Ohhh,
it's so beautiful out here now, Joe. Look.." he whispered, pointing to the strong
powerful light coming from the star glimmering in absolute purity over the city's 
nightscape.  Joe saw that he had true tears forming in his eyes. Bill sighed, suddenly 
moved beyond words. Gannon took off his hat and clutched it in feeling on the roof of
their unmarked car. "Merry Christmas, partner. Now that's what I call one h*ll of a gift." 
And he turned his head so he could hear the collected voices from the church and 
apartment evacuees more clearly on the soft rising winds.

"Merry Christmas, Bill. I do see it. And her... The singing's lovely.." he nodded 
genuinely. For once, the famous Friday monotone was nonexistent and full of emotion.
"So...Where to?" Joe asked quietly, reluctant to destroy the almost tender, miraculous 
moment. He was referring to their last as yet unsolved assignment concerning the 
nativity statue still missing from the church manger.

"Well, I don't know." sighed Bill with a sad, wilting frown as he dragged himself back 
to reality. 

Friday was gentle, and willing to ease the sting of it. "We could stay and work on it 
tonight."

"Wouldn't do any good. We won't find it...Will we?" Bill paused, his foot on the 
driver door's runner.

Joe nodded in agreement. "I don't think so."

Bill sighed. "No use kidding the priest. It'd build his hopes up." he said.

Friday got into the car and buckled in. "We might as well go tell him now."

Behind them in the rear seat, Johnny's lawyer, Trenton Cogley, was all smiles. "Merry 
Christmas, fellas." he said gayly, fully ignorant of the bad tidings the two men now had 
to deliver.

The two detectives dipped their heads at him, without saying anything.

-----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

:: 12:04 pm. We found Father Rojas. Bill told him how it was, that we didn't get 
the statue back; nor could we by morning, but that we'd keep trying during the 
week. He said he understood. We told him that we had to get on. As Bill and I 
started to leave, the doors to the main entrance of the church opened. It was a 
good two hundred feet away, something making a wheeled noise on the 
ceramic tiled floor. It was hard to be sure, but it looked like a small boy 
drawing a bright red wagon behind him. When he got closer, you could see 
he was no bigger than a pint of milk. He was a luminous eyed little Mexican 
boy with a face as young as yesterday. The priest suddenly knelt, and crossed 
himself with a gasp. 

::In the back of the wagon, was the missing statue of the child, Jesus. He picked 
it up gently and walked over to us.::

The boy spoke with innocence, holding up the delicately painted statuary to 
Father Rojas. "Feliz Navidad, Padre Rojas.." he said sincerely. "Aqui, 
triago por tu, senor." (Merry Christmas, Father Rojas. Here, I brought this 
for you, sir.)

Rojas glanced up at the detectives. "This is Pablo Mendoza. Another altar 
boy from the parish."

Joe joined them both on the boy's level. "Ask him where he found it."

Xavier and the boy exchanged a dialogue in lilting, musical Spanish. Then 
Father Rojas looked up. "He didn't find it. He took it."

"Why?" asked Friday.

Rojas addressed the tiny, simply dressed boy again in his own language. The child 
replied, fingering the face of the statue in the Padre's arms thoughtfully while he spoke 
his mind. Soon, the priest had his final answer. "He says it's because of that wagon. 
He promised himself that if he ever got the wagon, he would give Jesus the first 
ride in it."

The detectives' eyebrows rose in mild amusement, touched by the innocence of boy's
acting motive for the petty larceny. 

Seeing that the strange men before him were from the police department by the sight
of the guns shadowed in holsters underneath their jackets, Pablo spoke once more,
pointing at the main altar behind them, still covered with advent flowers.

Rojas translated. "He wants to know if the Devil will come to take him to H*ll." said the
priest, pointing to the detectives belt hanging handcuffs.

Bill pulled his jacket shut and Joe, next to him, did the same to calm the child. Then
Gannon smiled. "That's your department, Father."

Rojas grinned, glad that no example would be made of his parishner. And he absolved
the boy softly with reassurances with a stroke on the cheek. He rested a light hand 
on his head, and smiled at him. 

::We crossed over to the sanctuary. With the help of Father Rojas, the young boy replaced
the infant Jesus in its rightful place in the crib of the nativity scene. Bill and I could have 
been wrong, but.. the small plaster statue seemed to approve. Mary, Joseph, Elijah, 
Gaspar.. Malteer, Balazaar, the old shepherd, the young shepherd, the peasants.. They 
all seemed to approve. 

::The priest told the boy to go home. He took hold of his wagon and Pablo started the long 
walk out of the church. There wasn't much we could say. There wasn't much TO say... We
just stood there and watched him go. Half way up, he turned to look back. Then he went 
on out.::

The huge granite doors slid shut with a resounding echo behind him and the three 
men of honor were left nestled in a soft, peaceful silence under the warm candlelight
from the side alcoves.

Bill was hushed. "I don't understand how he got that wagon today. Don't kids wait for
Santa Claus anymore?"

Rojas beamed, still looking at the tall doors. "It isn't from Santa Claus. The firemen in
all the surrounding stations fix up old toys, making them look like new, to give to all
our church children. Paquito's family? They're poor.." he shrugged in explanation self
consciously. 

Joe met his eyes evenly and a knowing sparkle seemed to shine out from
deep in their depths. "Are they, Father?"

--------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
It was very early at dawn on Christmas Day, Dr. Brackett and Dixie were jolted out
of sleep from where they lay stretched on two separate couches by a ringing
telephone. It was Trenton Cogley for Dr. Brackett. Kel replied to the fire department
lawyer, instantly. "Yes, I'll be there, Cogley. First thing come Monday morning. 
Merry Christmas to you, too. Goodbye."  And he hung up the phone.

"Who was that?" murmured a sleepy Dixie as she rose to clear the plates full of
food crumbs still scattered on the living room coffee table.

"Cogley. He says the case against Johnny is pure bunk. Turns out a couple of
mischievous altar boys are truly to blame for Maria Angel's killing." Kel replied, 
grabbing up the empty wine bottle and glasses that they had used to toast in the 
new holiday. "It's panning out so far, as purely accidental."

"Ooo," Dixie sighed. "Will the authorities go easy on them, Kel?"

"They'd almost have to. Both are laid up in the hospital with heavy cases 
of carbon monoxide poisoning taken in at Marco Lopez's church during 
Christmas services yesterday."

"Oh, ironic. That's .. really rough. It'll take weeks, ..months.. to determine 
how much damage was done by their exposure..." Dixie frowned.

"Don't I know it.." Brackett said, "I'll call Joe to see what their blood 
carboxyhemoglobin percentage levels are sitting at to help him figure out 
how things might go when we return to work tomorrow."

"It'll tear Marco apart if either one of them dies. He probably knows both 
boys well."

"He's not going to press charges. Not now and not ever. Cogley told me as 
much just now. He got Lopez's angle on how things'll stand, while at 
the scene of a fire. 51's still there now, cleaning up." Dr. Brackett said.

"That's a long night of duty. And on Christmas, too. How on earth are they 
gonna celebrate anything for being so tired like that?" McCall demurred.

"I don't know, Dixie. Maybe a few grateful residents from that fire 
will give them a batch of holiday cookies or two to take back home with 
them." Kel replied.

--------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

The gang returned to base just as the dawn came and swallowed up the mysterious
star that had overseen the events of the past night. They dragged themselves
out of engine and squad, moaning in fatigue. Marco had come, too, to collect
his car and to put the two pies they had received from the church congregation into
refrigeration for later.

"I'm bushed..." Cap said, sitting on the foot guard of the engine next to Stoker, who
was doing the same thing. "Everybody, forget the usual vehicle clean up. Top 
priority is a round of hot showers .. and it's off to bed. That's it."

"Sure, Cap." Roy said, "But I am gonna check out the drug box to make sure we
have enough supplies with us for the next call."

The much fresher Gil Robertson, leaped in. "I'll... go fill up all our oxygen cylinders.
We used, what? Four at the fire?"

"Something like that." Gage sighed, sitting opposite the others on the squad's step
grill.

Chet Kelly saundered over to Johnny. "So, how does it feel to be a real free man?"

"Absolutely wonderful. I couldn't've asked for a better Christmas present."

"Wait a minute, Johnny." Marco said. "I thought as a Native American, that you didn't
celebrate Christmas. At all."

"I can honor the spirit of the day. Nothing in my belief system says that I can't do
such a thing. All the well wishing and the giving sentiment, is very reminiscent of my
own people's sacred days when they come." Gage said, chuckling. Then his stomach
growled. "Wow, I'm hungry now?"

"Why not?" DeSoto grinned. "I can't imagine the food in that jail was any good."

"It wasn't. I couldn't eat a single bite of it."

Cap coughed some soot out of his chest and rose to his feet. "You know that
sounds like a terrific idea. Eating, I mean. How about we cook up leftovers and 
then enjoy some of that pie before we detail ourselves clean, ok fellas?"

"I'm for that.." said Chet and so did everybody else in other ways.

The gang entered the kitchen, rubbing Boot's still smoky coat in firm praises,
when they all stopped dead in the doorway leading from the vehicle bay.

Standing in the rec room, were Detectives Friday and Gannon, flanking a fully 
decorated, and delightfully alighted, Christmas tree.

Bill was solemn and he nudged Joe to pull his hands down from behind his back
to present a more sincere picture. "Uh, hi fellas." Gannon began. "I suppose
you're wondering why we're here. We, uh,.. wanted to apologize to Mr. Lopez
directly and to the rest of you for our earlier behavior towards him. 
It was thoughtless and very unbecoming of a police officer to have done what
we did."

Joe nodded gravely. "Same from my end, too. I'm sorry to have caused so much
trouble. We had no idea that you would be sickened so badly, Mr. Lopez."

"Apology accepted, sir. Uh, sirs.." said Marco. Then he stepped forward. "Wow,
what a wonderful tree. How long did it take you to put it up and decorate it?"
he asked.

"Not long." answered Joe Friday. "We had help. Father Rojas's church choir was
here en masse not too long ago. They figured they could express their gratitude 
that would agree with departmental polices about gratuities in this tree, for saving 
Leonard and his friend and the two altar boys. Technically, this is just a little
sidework that could be classified as redecorating."

The firemen grinned then and Marco Lopez was the first to take the detectives'
hands to shake them in heartfelt forgiveness. Then everyone was lost in the heady 
smells wafting from the heavy pine needles, from sap and from the bright clusters 
of holly berries making the Christmas tree's branches fill with the spicy scent... 
of Christmas.

--------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
Dr. Brackett reported first thing that Monday morning to the paramedic regulatory
board. He had a loose end to tie up concerning the discipline the committee wanted
to lay on Johnny Gage for his apparent recklessness in trying to come to Maria
Angel's aid. 

He set the committee heads straight onto their ears.

"I know things were dangerous for my paramedic. Name any firefighter paramedic
who never encounters at least some danger while working on the job. I concede
that Johnny Gage took on a lot of risk to himself unnecessarily. He just didn't
clearly know the possible legal ramifications that his actions would have at the
time he had to act. All my paramedic wanted to do then, was to help, as he was 
trained to do, by me. So I offer you a compromise, ladies and gentlemen on the 
board, ..if you lay aside his written reprimand. 

"I offer you an amendment proposal to the paramedic program, officially. 
I can submit to you, this..."

With that, Kel Brackett approached their long table of deliberation set up
in the back of the city courthouse with a packeted outline that he and Dixie had
created together on Christmas Day. "I propose to you the following new protocol.
No paramedic shall attempt to render aid to any victim until such time as the scene
is declared fully safe to enter. Attempts will be made to secure the scene by using
the police department, where necessary, before any care is rendered whatsoever."

Eyebrows went up all around the committee table. It surprised each and every one
that such a common sense idea had escaped them so completely. And it drove
its credibility home even more to have a real life bonafide practicing medical doctor,
show it to them so poignantly.

It was no time at all before the disciplinary paperwork, halfway 
in the works for Johnny, was dismissed soundly into the shredder. 

As he left the judicial offices, Kelly Brackett could only smile as he took hold
of Dixie's arm tightly on the return trip to the parking lot where his convertible
was parked. "Well, looks like we found a way to help out Johnny and Marco, without
stuffing our noses directly into it."

"I'm sure glad we finally did. But let's not tell them anything, ok? It'll be our little 
secret." she whispered. "Merry Christmas, Kel. That was showing absolutely 
the best kind of Christmas spirit."

 --------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

::You have just heard Dragnet, a series of authentic cases from official files.
Technical advice comes from the office of Chief of Police W. H. Parker, 
Los Angeles Police Department....:: 

--------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------


FIN

Episode Twenty Eight, Season Four
Smoke Screen

Emergency Theater Live
 
------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Photo: Vince and Cap studying a burning building at night.

Photo: Roy giving a rescued boy air from his scba.

Photo:  An aerial bucket's view of ambulance attendants.

Photo: Close of Maximillion J. Lorentz, the money bum.

Photo:  Roy and Johnny treating victims by the squad.

Photo: Joe Friday and Bill Gannon talking at night. Close shot.

Photo: Fire witnesses watching at night.

Photo: Father Rojas by a cross, listening.

Photo: A little boy with a statue of Jesus in his hands.

Photo: Brackett at his house on the phone.

Photo:  Dixie and Brackett enjoying Xmas day on the couch.

Photo: Cap and the gang standing stupified in the kitchen 
            doorway.  

Photo:  The Dragnet detectives with a Xmas tree in Station 
             51's rec room.   

Photo:  Brackett at an official hearing in front of a committee.

Photo:  A Xmas tree ornament reflecting a fireplace on a branch.

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

            
                            End Credits --  Episode Twenty Eight  (Fourth Season)
                                      
                                              §§     Smoke Screen    §§


              :)       This episode is dedicated to the late, great, Jack Webb, 
                        creator of television's Dragnet and Emergency series. 
                        May the fruits of his talents continue to shine here at ETL 
                        and the whole web over for decades to come.
                        
              :)                                                                                                               :)
 
  
The Story Unfolds...

Season Four, Episode Twenty Nine..
 
 §§  Where The Wind Blows   §§
 
Debut Launch: January 1st, 2006. 
 
********************************************************
From: "Derrick" <rescueman1962@yahoo.com> 
Date: Thu Dec 29, 2005  3:36 am through
           Wed Jan 4, 2006  12:29 am
Subject: Up and At 'Em  

 
Johnny Gage's alarm clock radio popped on in his Marina 
Del Rey apartment at 5:30 in the morning. 

It was time to get up and prepare for another shift at Station 51. 
And his radio was tuned to KROR 99.9 FM "The Roar", one of the 
FM hard rock station in Los Angeles, where Ken Kruiser, a popular 
morning dj, was on the air. 

The dj said to his audience. ##Wake up L.A., it's half past the six 
o' clock hour. Time for you working folks to get up for another day 
of work, and for you kids listening, to get your butts to school on this 
windy Thursday morning. Here is your weather. The weatherman is
calling for patchy morning fog along the coastline and partly cloudy
skies inland with a slight chance of a shower or two after the noon
hour. Your highs today in the City of Angels and surrounding vicinity 
will be in the upper 60's along the coast to the mid 80's inland.
The overnight lows will be from the low to upper 50's, with those pesky
Santa Ana winds kicking up in gusts of up to 50 miles per hour by
this afternoon. A red flag warning is in effect for the hills and canyons 
so be careful with fire.##

::Now he tells us.:: thought Gage. 

With that in mind, Johnny knew that it was going to be a long day.

-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Gage arrived two minutes too late at the station for the start of his shift 
and said. "Well, good morning all. Windy out there, ain't it? I--"

Captain Stanley interrupted Gage and said. "Good morning to you,
too, Johnny. I don't want to ruin your day but may I remind you that you
are now three minutes late? That means that you have exactly 
two minutes to get in uniform and report to the living room. 
You too, Chet."

Chet Kelly tried to make up a good excuse for his tardiness,
replying. "Cap, you know how hard I try to be here on time, but
the traffic is murder out there!  Especially with the wind blowing!" 

Gage agreed with Chet. "It's still early, you know what I mean?"

Then Captain Stanley stated. "Well, o.k. But don't make it a habit.
McConnikee has been on my back about this. And I agree, this new 
starting time for our shift at seven in the morning just doesn't make 
sense." The captain yawned as he finished his conversation. "I
kind of cut it close getting in here myself. I'm still tired."

As Kelly and Gage entered the kitchen for coffee and exchanging hellos
with the rest of the crew, Marco Lopez was looking out the back door
window. He said, laughing. "Geez , you've got to see this. The
wind just picked up a trash can and tossed it like a rag doll down
the street! There's trash everywhere!"

"No kidding?" said Roy DeSoto. "Our neighbor had a tree branch
land on a power transformer early this morning and it knocked
the power out to the whole neighborhood for two hours."

"Two hours? Why so long?" Marco inquired.

"Because that's how long it took before Pacific Gas and 
Electric could get out there with a boom truck to get it down
and restore the power. As a matter of fact, they had just turned it
back on when I left this morning. The guy told me that they were
already ten calls behind and they were still getting calls for more
help by the time they got to us."

"Wow, looks like we may be in for a busy day." replied Marco as
Henry the station's basset hound mascot sunk his head into the couch
in a sign of pity for the guys.

Chet Kelly scratched his nose. Henry's too.
"I remember one time when I was over at 7's when a power pole fell
onto a house up in the hills near Bel Air. Huge house. And it had
squished it right in half! The wind took the pole right off of its base 
and we had sparks flying and arching wires everywhere. It was 
absolutely a miracle that no one got killed." he added.

Mike Stoker had another story to tell.
"When I was up at 69's, we had Santa Anas up to seventy miles per
hour. We had a whole family with seven kids in a station wagon that
had blown off Altadena Pass Road and rolled off to the side about ten
feet down an embankment. That was a miracle there too because the way
it looked, we thought that everyone would be dead or at least, badly hurt. 
But it turned out that everyone only had just a few bumps and bruises.
That's all. We were glad to be out of there with them when a spark 
caused the gas tank to explode, which then caused a five alarm 
brush assignment! I think we were there all night putting that one out."  

Hank swallowed a bite of donut.
"When I was working at 58's, we had an assignment where one of
those steel power poles somehow blew over onto the tower of that
shortwave radio station in Idaho Canyon. McConnikee was walking 
up to inspect the damage to the tower itself when a gust of wind 
caught him off guard and blew him right onto his rear. We all got 
a good chuckle out of that! Like the saying goes, once a b----- ." 

Captain Stanley was interrupted as the station's tones sounded.
##Station 51, Engine 95. Antennae on top of a structure. Two 
seniors trapped. 11864 Pocohontas Circle. 11864 Pocohontas 
Circle. Cross street, Alta Vista. Time out: 0714.## 
 
The firemen scrambled to both the squad and engine as Captain 
Stanley acknowledged Sam Lanier's urgent dispatch. 

"Station 51, 10-4, KMG 365."  he replied on the mobile radio
inside the Ward La France engine. 

Both the squad and engine left with lights flashing, sirens wailing, 
and air horns blasting on the way to the scene which would take 
them seven minutes to get there by the fastest route.
::But seven minutes can seem like an eternity for those in need
of help inside the damaged home, especially if you are elderly.:: 
thought Cap. 

According to the mail box, the house that the firemen could see they
had the response to, belonged to Mr. Frederick Risenborough 
and his wife Carolyn. Cap saw that it was a modest home, most 
likely with a couple of bathrooms, a den, maybe four bedrooms, and 
a large backyard with a barbeque pit and wooden deck. There was
also a three car garage, some fireplaces due to the type of chimneys 
Hank could see, and a built-in swimming pool round the side.

Now, it was a pile of rubble. And the fate of its occupants was still 
unknown according to the police over the radio.

Soon enough, Station 51's crew pulled closer onto the scene
where they were greeted by Officer Howard as they exited their
vehicles.

Officer Howard explained that the upright base station radio antennae
in the back yard of one of the next door neighbors had snapped near
the base and had landed on the roof of the house. He said that the
neighbors had built and used it to pull in ham and shortwave radio 
transmissions. "It used to be about seventy feet tall." he said. 

Captain Stanley noticed that the antennae was also lying across some 
power lines. He told Officer Howard. "Well, Vince, before we do anything 
we have to get the power turned off. Are there any other outages in the 
area?"

"None that I know of, Hank. But there may be in the rest of the 
neighborhood. Anything I can do?"

"Why don't you keep any onlookers and cars out of the area except
for immediate witnesses.  Also see if you can get a crane to clean
this mess up later on. O.k., pal?" asked Captain Stanley.

"Will do." Vince said.

Cap got back in the engine cab to give out his report.
"L.A., Engine 51. I have a heavy steel radio transmitting and
receiving antennae approximately seventy feet tall on top of a 
residential structure with two elderly people perhaps still trapped 
inside at this time. Send a truck company for assistance in rescue 
operations and an ambulance. Notify PG and E and have them 
expedite if all possible. Advise of their ETAs."

##10-4, Engine 51.## dispatcher Lanier replied. 

The firemen tried to find their way around the house safely 
to make their initial damage assessment so they could identify 
how to gain access and locate potential hazards, including the 
antennae on top of it. They also had to decide what resources 
they would need as far as equipment and manpower was concerned.

Roy called over to Captain Stanley. ##Squad 51 to Engine 51. We have
located a way in on the west side of the house. We will need the
Porta-Power, air bags, K-12, and the Hurst tool to gain access to
the victims.## he said over his HT.

"Engine 51, Squad 51, 10-4. Engine 95!  Assist my crew in any way 
you can." Captain Stanley ordered as he spotted Engine 95 was 
coming on scene. 

##Engine 95, 10-4, Engine 51.## the engine's captain replied.

The scene action progressed. 

Chet Kelly, with his gloved hands, used a crow bar to break out a 
bedroom window to allow the firefighters to get inside the house. 
He peeked inside the bedroom to look for obstacles that might 
impede their advance toward the victims and found a bureau 
dressing drawer in the way. He crawled through the window, able 
to pull himself up and through the couple of feet that separated the 
window from the ground. 

Engine 95's crew hustled with a ladder to aid their fellow co-workers. 
Then they retreated with Station 51's crew to get more equipment to 
set it up. 

Chet and Marco moved the dresser out of everyone's way, shoving 
it into a corner wall.

-------------------------------------------------------------------------

Johnny got out the biocom and called into Rampart near where Dixie 
McCall was standing within earshot of the radio. The light flashed and
the alert buzzer sounded as Johnny said. "Rampart base, County 51."

##Go ahead, 51.## Dixie replied.

"Rampart, we are at the scene of a rescue operation. We have a seventy
foot steel antennae that has fallen on top of a house. It has trapped
at least two victims inside. We are working to gain access at this
time and will let you know when we have contact with them.
We're estimating about a forty minute extrication time. Over."

As the conversation kept going on, Dr. Morton listened attentively
as Nurse Mc Call stepped out of his way for him to use the radio. 
##51, this is Rampart. We read you and are standing by. Is an 
ambulance there yet?##

"Affirmative, Rampart. It just arrived along with an engine, 
a truck company, and the Battalion Chief." Gage told him.

##Okay, transport as soon as possible but only after you give 
us a full report on your patients.## said Mike.

"10-4, Rampart." replied Gage and he headed from the squad back 
to Roy and the rest of the guys at the house.

-------------------------------------------------------------------------

As the firemen made their way inside, Captain Stanley stood at the window
where they had made entry as Chief McConnikee arrived to be filled
in on the situation.

"Hank, what have you got?" McConnikee asked him.

"Bill, I have a seventy foot radio antennae that has collapsed on top of a
house with two people trapped inside. My men along with 95's and 
the truck company I called are still gaining access. I've heard that they are 
older people." said Hank glancing over to the worried bystanders
across the street. "I hope that we can get to them while they're still alive."

Chief McConnikee surveyed the damage to the roof and sighed, 
"I sure hope so."

Inside the house, the firemen made their way down a short hallway that
had serious damage to the interior walls in which crumbled sheet
rock and cracked paint and plaster lay. Ahead of them, there was 
a huge pile of rubble in what could have been the living and dining 
room. It was where the tower had landed. Roy called out to listen for 
a response from the victims they all thought were trapped there. 
::I hope someone's conscious so we can have an open line of 
communication to them until we get there.:: thought Roy. "Hello. 
This is the fire department. Can anybody hear me?" he said. 

There was an eerie silence. 

"Hello! Fire department! Can anybody hear me?!" Roy DeSoto 
shouted louder.

There was still no response. ::We're not going to give up
that easily.:: Roy decided mentally. 

Johnny Gage, following behind Roy, shouted as loud as his 
voice could carry. "Hey! This is the Los Angeles County Fire 
Department. We are coming to get you out!"

Ten seconds later, there was a muffled cry ; a female voice
within the rubble. 

Roy, Johnny, and Marco heard the elderly woman with
difficulty, but they smiled. They knew she had survived and 
perhaps her husband, too, if he was anywhere near by her.

The firemen urgently, but very carefully, placed their equipment down to
get it ready to get to them both.  They were especially careful to not 
cause any sudden moves.  

The Battalion Chief, watching his men work, thought. ::A further collapse 
would endanger the lives of the other rescuers inside if they aren't.:: 


Johnny asked the woman. "Are you trapped?" 

The woman replied. " ..*Gasp*...yes, help me. My husband is, too.
He is out cold." came her muffled voice.

Johnny then asked. "Is he breathing?"

"...yes, but not that good..*gasp* I feel ..short of ....breath. Please get 
us out of here!"

"Okay. Stay still and we will have both of you out in a few minutes. 
There is going to be a lot of noise. That will just be the equipment 
we'll have working to get you out so try to relax." said Johnny
through the tangle of debris still between them.

Captain Stanley said. "Chet, Marco. K-12 and easy with it.
Henderson and Briggs from 95's, man the inch and a half just in 
case we spark something and the rest of you, start clearing out some
of this debris as we go. Stoker, standby the biocom to Rampart."

"Okay, Cap." he replied.

All the firemen then busied themselves with their tasks.

---------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

The wind outside made the shrubs, tree limbs and power lines dance. 
All loosened debris around them was being hurled through the air by 
it as it suddenly gusted up to forty five miles per hour. 

-----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Inside the house, there was a loud creaking that seemed to be
coming from the threshold leading from the hallway into the living room.

Captain Stanley, who was standing nearby, heard it and went to
investigate. He knew that the supports to the roof had been pretty 
weakened and that the whole roof could cave in at any time, trapping 
everybody inside. He heard another groan above him just seconds 
later and ducked instinctively. He got on his portable radio to Chief 
McConnikee, who had since gone outside to head command the incident 
while standing on the street in view of the house. "Battalion 14, HT 51." 
Captain Stanley's voice crackled into his radio.

##Battalion 14. Go ahead, Hank.## McConnikee said.

"Battalion 14 , the roof on this structure is weakening as I speak
and can go at any time. I have sixteen men getting to the victims
inside and it will be at least another thirty minutes before we gain 
contact. But we maybe have fifteen to twenty only to get them out before 
this place falls down. Any suggestions?"

---------------------------------------------------------------------------

Vince, overhearing Captain Stanley's radio conversation, said to
Chief McConnikee. "I have men up on Alta Vista and Loma Prieta 
shutting down traffic, except for you guys, to come through. I put in 
for a crane to come even before you arrived. They should be here in 
twenty minutes." Vince said, looking at his watch.

McConnikee glanced up directly into Vince's eyes and replied. 
"I don't know if these guys have twenty minutes. Hank Stanley says
that roof can go at absolutely any time. Is PG&E here yet?"

"They just got here a minute ago. They should have the power off
by now." Vince said to him, looking around for the flash of utility
lights.

It was then, they both noticed that the sparks and arching of the power 
lines that had fallen down because of the windstorm and the
antennae, had all but died away. 

:: Hmm.Things are now a little safer for everyone.:: Bill thought. 
:: But the peril of the roof collapsing remains.:: the chief worried.
Battalion radioed inside to Captain Stanley. "HT 51, Battalion 14. 
The power has been turned off. Repeat. The power is now off."
 
##HT 51, 10-4. What now?##

"HT 51, you're going to have to step it up but be careful. Do
you need additional manpower?" asked the chief.

Hank Stanley surveyed the scene in front of him and knew with 
about sixteen men, that he was fine. He conferred with Engine 95's 
Captain Eddie Green, a 26 year veteran, working near by.

Eddie nodded to Cap. "Another engine company would be nice. But 
we don't want too many cooks spoiling the pot. We'll be outta here 
sooner with just ours if we can push it a little."

Cap lifted his head sharply in agreement and turned back towards
the victims' pocket. "Hey, let's hurry it up in there. The hallway roof's 
gonna go real soon and bring down the one above us with it." Hank Stanley 
warned everyone. Then he turned to Green. "Let's give these guys a hand, 
Eddie, ok?" Finally, he answered Battalion's question over the radio.
"That's negative on additional manpower, Battalion 14." 
 
"HT 51, 10-4." McConnickee answered.

"Cap. We've made it to the victims!" Gage yelled.

"How are they?" Captain Stanley shouted back.

"....The lady is semi-conscious, but coherent. The man is
unconscious. Responds to painful stimuli. Looks like they are
both pinned down. The tower debris is lying on the lower part 
of their bodies. We'll need ....the airbags, jaws, ......and the 
Porta-Power to just lift it up off them a bit so we can get em' out." 
said Johnny.

Roy DeSoto then filled the captains in with their medical priorities 
and he said. "The older man goes first!  We'll need O2 for 
both of them."

Captain Stanley ordered Mike Stoker out to the squad to get the
O2 and he told Chet Kelly to retrieve the O2 kit off of the engine. 
Then he advised the chief on the portable radio about their 
reaching the victims inside and what their conditions were as 
both being trapped by their lower extremities. He shared also 
that Kelly and Stoker were on their way out of the house to get the 
medical equipment.  ::Come on. We now have just fifteen minutes at 
the most to get them out before the roof collapses for good. 
Time's not on our side.:: worried Hank.

##Okay, Hank.  It's too windy for me to be standing out here. I'm
coming in to help." McConnikee replied.

Hank Stanley was suddenly concerned about his Battalion Chief.
::Wow. I wonder if he can still hack it with the rest of the guys.::
Cap thought. Then he keyed the mic on his handheld. "All right, 
Battalion 14, 10-4. But be careful."
 
Outside, Chief McConnikee popped open the trunk of his red
battalion chief's car by pressing a button inside of it. He 
walked briskly to its back and put on his bunker pants after he 
had taken off his coat and helmet to get their suspenders onto his 
shoulders. Then, putting his bunker coat and white helmet back on, 
he made his way into the house with Stoker and Kelly who then 
followed behind him with the oxygen kits. 

"Chief?" Lopez asked. "What are you doing in here?"

"I'm gonna help you guys. Maybe teach you all a thing or two while 
I'm at it. Hurry it up!" McConnikee said to Stoker behind him.

The chief got behind Captains Stanley and Green who were working 
the Porta-Power and he said to them. "Good. Keep going. Just a 
little more." 

"Yes, Chief." replied Green.

"Henderson, as soon as you get the tower up a little with the 
jaws, get a good bite on those poles and a good lift on the 
tower struts. Stoker and I, with the other two guys here, will get those 
bags into proper position. We don't want any mistakes." Bill added. 

"We've got four more air bottles off of the squad, chief. " shouted 
a young rookie firefighter of Oriental descent from Engine 95 as
he propped them upright for the porta-power's hydraulic use.
 
"Good, Tse. Set them up for 51's guys and fill the lift bladders 
fast." said McConnikee. 

Gage returned to the biocom once again to advise Rampart of 
their current situation. "Rampart base, County 51.."  he said.

Dr. Morton, still in charge of the base station over the call, 
re-entered the radio room and replied, ##Go ahead, 51.##

"Rampart, I am updating you about our situation. We have made 
contact with our victims and they are being extricated at this time. 
We have a shortened revised time of ten minutes due to the danger of roof 
collapse. As far as I can tell, we suspect both our victims' conditions as
having critical lower extremity injuries and possible internal injuries to their
abdominal cavities. The female is still semi-conscious. Earlier she was 
somewhat incoherent. The male is now responsive to verbal stimuli. We 
have them both on 15 liters of 02 via non-rebreathers. Over..." reported 
Johnny.

##51, can you visualize their upper extremities?## Dr . Morton 
inquired as Dixie and Dr. Brackett walked into the radio room to 
listen into what was going on. 

"Uh,..stand by, Rampart. We have another development." Johnny 
replied at a sudden cessation in sawing noise behind him.

##Okay. Keep us posted.## Morton answered. 

"What's going on?" Brackett asked Dr. Morton.

"Do you know the case we have been working with 51 for 
almost a half hour now?" Mike asked him.

Kel nodded. 

"Well, it seems that they have gotten access to the patients 
and are extricating them now."

Brackett sagged in relief. 

Mike shook his head. "However Kel, they are in immediate 
danger of having the roof collapsing right down on top of them. 
They're saying that it can go at any time." 

Dr. Brackett and Dixie bowed their heads in deep concern.

Dr. Brackett sighed then, looking up."Well, I know that the boys, 
with enough help, can really get the job done. Let's hope for the 
best." he said. 

-----------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Meanwhile, the air bags were ready. The large black squares 
marked with an X to indicate area of placement, had been inflated 
fully. And with the other equipment in place, they had finally lifted 
the heavy antennae off of the victims. They had provided 
just enough space for the firefighters to move in to remove the 
injured couple. 

"Okay, that's enough! Let's get them out of here." McConnikee 
shouted, bending low to see into the victims' gap. "Gimme the 
extrication collar for this man,.. uh-ah , what's your name?" the 
chief directed at Chet Kelly.

"Chet Kelly." Chet replied.

"Kelly. Right." The chief said. "Chet, get the second one while you're 
at it, too." 

The chief shouted with dismay as another groan came from the roof 
above him. It seemed to be much louder than the first one heard by 
Captain Stanley, who was still working on locking off the Porta-Power 
with his friend, Captain Green. 

Truck 11's Captain Marlon Hankins ran into the house. He was 
one of just three African-American captains that Hank knew about; 
a 20 year veteran of the County F.D.. Hankins ordered two of his men, 
Fisher and Jenkins, to get 51's back boards propped up against the 
wall behind the two other captains and nodded as Battalion told him 
the names of the victims that he had read off of the house's 
streetside mail box. 

McConnikee made sure that he said them loud enough for all the 
rescuers around to hear as well.

Chief McConikee slipped the first collar easily behind the old man's 
neck, making sure to get the trachea hole facing center forward on it.
He wrapped it around the man's neck then, to immobilize it. 
He spoke to Mr. Risenborough as Roy maintained manual traction to 
the man's head. "Sir, please don't move your head. I'm placing this 
collar around your neck just to remind you to keep your head still." 

"Oh ,.... sonny . Please help. I hurt..... all over. I still can't...... move 
.....my legs! What's.... that..... board .....for ? " Mr. Risenborough gasped.

Roy explained to him.
"It's to make your whole body immobile so we can keep your
head, neck, back, and body straight, okay? We are going to roll 
you onto your side and place you onto this. Then we'll support
your head with a head immobilizer and your body with straps. 
All right?" 

The old man didn't reply. His attention was starting to drift.

McConnikee, Lopez, and Jenkins, rolled Mr. Risenborough easily 
onto the backboard as Johnny placed a HeadLoc device and its 
straps on that were still needed to safely remove him from entrapment. 

The old man was soon carried out of the house and set onto the front 
lawn where it was truly safe. 

The small crowd of onlookers, a few houses down, standing on a neighbor's 
plush, newly mowed lawn, applauded the firefighters as Mr. Risenborough 
was brought out. They had seen that he was in and out of consciousness; 
still alive.

Johnny, Chet, Hank, Wally Tse, and Tony Fisher were hard at work
preparing to remove Mrs. Risenborough from the wreckage of the home. 
Davis, Truck Company 11's tillerman, dragged the biocom nearer to both 
the woman and the paramedics.

The roof let out a really loud groan above suddenly and some light roofing 
material showered onto Gage, Chet, and Fisher. They hit the floor protecting 
Mrs. Risenborough with their bodies as the others inside protected 
themselves by covering their helmeted heads.

"Everyone all right?!" Gage shouted, looking up, heavily frightened.

"Yes." Chet yelled after he had checked with the other guys 
in his group. 

"Are you, too, ma'am?" Johnny asked Mrs. Risenborough.

"Yes! Just get me out of here. I ..*groan*...don't want to die now." 
she cried. 

"You're not going to die, Mrs. Risenborough. We're taking you out 
of here right now." Johnny said . 

"How's Fred? Where is he?" she asked, blinking in the falling dust.

Johnny said. "My partner Roy and some other firemen are taking care of 
him outside. I can tell you that he is alive, but he may be hurt bad." he
told her truthfully.

Mrs. Risenborough's face twisted at the news.
 
Gage reassured her. "Easy. We will do everything possible to help him 
and you, too. Okay?" 

"Thank you. You paramedics are just wonderful." the old woman said. 

"Thanks." said Johnny, trying to smile at her.

Johnny and the guys soon rushed Mrs. Risenborough outside and 
they placed her onto the grass next to her husband, positioned so
that she could see him. He had had splints applied for fractures 
to his legs, hip, and for an ankle. 

Gage could see that Roy was readying an I.V. of anticipated 
Lactated Ringers, that covered Dr. Morton's usual silent standing 
orders, stringing it out for him.

::I'll probably need one of those as well.:: he thought. Johnny began 
his full updated primary and secondary patient survey on Mrs. Risenborough. 

Privately, 51's paramedics were also concerned about the status of the firefighters 
still inside. They both could see that only Captains Stanley and Green and two other
of 11's firefighters were reported as out of the wreckage with their Porta-Power. 
Gage and DeSoto knew that Captain Hankins, along with his crew firefighters 
Henderson, Brown, Bridges, Collinsworth, Gentry, and Terrelli and a couple of 
others, were still inside taking down equipment.

::I hope they get out of the house before the roof collapses.:: Johnny thought 
as he treated his patient. 

Time was running short. 

Again, the roof gave out another loud and menacing groan, dumping more 
shattered material into the inside of the house. 

Chief McConnikee, nearby, shouted into his radio.
"HT 11, Battalion 14 . Get the h*** outta there, now! You might only  
have three minutes or less. Move it!" he told Hankins.

##Battalion 14, HT 11. We have gathered the gear and we're 
coming out now.## Captain Hankins replied.

As Hankins' firefighters and Stoker made their way, without incident, to 
the window through which they had all come, Johnny started
relaxing while Roy got back on the biocom to Rampart.

----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

The incoming buzzer sounded at the hospital.
 
Dr. Morton finished his second medical case off quickly. 
It was one from Squads 110 and 36, in which four patients had been 
injured due to an auto accident on the San Diego Freeway. 

While he talked, Mike motion invited CHP officers Baker and Poncharello 
to listen in on Johnny's radio transmission. Mike had seen the two 
officers at the nurses station, filling out an unrelated accident report.

##Rampart base, County 51.## Roy called.

"Go ahead, 51. This is Rampart." said Dr. Morton.

##Rampart, we have extricated both victims successfully. 
Patient number one is a semi-conscious, but arousable 
seventy two year old male who's a critical trauma patient. He was 
trapped for approximately thirty five minutes due to a fallen 
radio tower antennae that collapsed from its base onto a house.
It caused the roof severe structural damage. The victim 
was unresponsive when we initially arrived, but his LOC improved 
when O2 was given to him during his extrication.

##At this time, he has a fracture to his left ankle, left hip, and right 
femur. He is complaining of pain in the cervical spine but we're 
finding only tenderness. There's negative deformity to it. We also 
have found some abdominal swelling. He has no signs of distention. 
Negative on absent bowel sounds. Vitals are as follows : BP is 92/70. 
Pulse rate 116. Slightly abnormal, are respirations at twenty eight
and shallow, but his SaO2 is at 98% on O2. He's on 15 liters per 
non-rebreather. The patient has a history of arthritis in his back for 
which he takes over the counter medications as needed. He has no 
known allergies. We have him fully immobilized on a long spine 
board with an extrication collar via HeadLoc, and straps. A Sager 
traction splint has been applied to the right femur fracture and the 
leg's now stabilized. Vacuum splints are also immobilizing the ankle. 
We're supporting the hip fracture, too, for pain relief. Any further?## 
DeSoto asked about medical orders.

Dr. Morton glanced down at the toggle switch and pressed it.
"County 51, start an I.V. of Lactated Ringers, followed by piggyback 
I.V. of 250 milliliters D5/W t.k.o . Administer 5 milligrams 
Fentanyl I.V. Monitor his vitals and get him set to transport."

##10-4, Rampart. Stand by for patient number two.## replied
Roy.

Johnny took over the biocom. "Rampart, County 51 with 
patient number two." he reconfirmed for the radio log.

"Go ahead, 51." Dr. Morton answered.

##Rampart, patient number two is a conscious, but somewhat disoriented 
seventy year old female. She's a potentially critical trauma patient 
from the same incident with the same length of entrapment to extrication 
time as patient number one. Her chief complaint is severe pain to 
her left femur, right foot and its tib-fib. She is complaining secondarily
of minor c-spine and general back pain. She has pain in her left wrist 
and left hip. On exam, I found her to have an open fracture to the left 
femur with gross deformity. Absent distal pulses were present on first
arrival. She has an open fracture of her right tib fib with moderate to gross 
deformity of the leg. Noted initially there, too, were no distal pulses. She 
has a closed fracture with deformity above the right foot. She also 
has tenderness and slight pain in her neck and back with a small contusion 
and swelling on her left side neck. And Rampart, she has moderate 
pain with any slight movement of the board.## Johnny added about her 
awareness level.

##There's a large deep bruise on her left hip with severe 
swelling and acute tenderness but with no pelvic deformity. Her vitals 
are : BP 122/92. Pulse 110. Her respirations are also at twenty six 
with an SaO2 at 98% on oxygen. Patient has prior history of migranes 
and has taken Cafergot. She says she's also allergic to horse dander. 
Reaffirming at this time, we have her in general c-spine precautions and 
we've immobilized the left leg with a Hare Traction Splint. The wound's 
covered with dressings and is bleeding controlled. The leg's distal 
pulses are still showing and limb color and temperature to that foot 
are normal. We have the right open tib-fib fracture immobilized with a 
full leg vacuum splint which is likewise dressing covered and bleeding 
controlled.

##Distal pulses have just returned there with half normal limb coloring and 
temperature. I have an ice pack applied to the left hip contusion and she
states some relief from pain in that area. We also have the wrist splinted 
with a short vacuum splint, sling and swathe. There's ice there as well
which is gaining pain relief. Note, I have her on 15 liters of O2 
per non-rebreather. Any further instructions, Rampart?## asked Johnny.

"51, start an I.V. Lactated Ringers on patient two along
with a piggy back of 250 milliliters of D5/W t.k.o. Administer 5 
milligrams Fentanyl I.V. for discomfort. Monitor vitals and transport both
patients as soon as possible. What is your ETA?" Dr. Morton asked.

##Ten to fifteen minutes, Rampart.## Johnny said. 

"10-4. Get them in here." said Morton, smiling at the two highway
patrol officers.

------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

As soon as Johnny got off the biocom with Rampart, there was 
a loud crash and a big cloud of dust emitted from the doomed house. 

The roof had caved into the bigger section of the house and what was 
left of it was no longer standing. 

Gage sighed. ::But I'm not gonna be worried any more. The chief's 
relaxed and that means that everyone got out of the house with 
no one getting themselves in any kind of peril doing it.::

---------------------------------------------------------------------------------
 
At Rampart, things were wrapping up.
"Wow! This is like being right there in the action, Docs." 
Poncharello said with his trademark smile. 

"Almost. But we still can't see the patients until they get here. 
Someday when video telemetry comes along, we will have that 
ability." Dr. Morton replied. 

"Every one of these squads you see listed on our board; 14, 24, 
36, 45, 51, 99, 110, 116's and these two L.A. city R.A.s, work under 
our licenses. And here we provide them with on-line medical direction." 
said Kel, resting a hand on the recording base station terminal.

"We also share equal responsibility over the patient in the field 
with the paramedics until he or she comes here. Then, they are ours."
Dr. Morton grinned with mock threat.

The two highway patrolmen chuckled.

"We've known Johnny and Roy for a little while. They are great to 
watch at work." Baker said, nodding. 

"They're the best we've got. But I can't leave out the others." 
Mike Morton said.

##Rampart Base, Squad 45.## The base radio beckoned. 

"Excuse me, gentlemen. I'm wanted again." Dr. Morton smiled 
as he stood over the flashing radio toggle to answer the squad 
call. 

Quietly, the other three left the glassed cubicle, leaving Mike
to his work.

------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Back at the scene, everyone stood momentarily gaping 
at the house which had been thoroughly reduced to a pile of rubble. 

McConnikee shook his head and turned to the three captains.
"You know, I hate to see beautiful homes be destroyed by an act of 
nature like this. I know their owners usually have enough insurance 
to rebuild... but.. It just goes to show you that everything, no matter 
what it is, it has an ending." 

Green, Stanley and Hankins agreed with him in mutual nods.

They all watched as the Mayfair ambulance EMTs, Harold and Malcolm, 
came up to Roy with a wheeled gurney. Mr. Risenborough was hoisted
onto it and placed him on the cot side of the ambulance as Roy sat 
in the jump seat in back of his patient. Then the EMTs brought out a 
flat stretcher to take Mrs. Risenborough into the ambulance, too. 
Johnny stood in the jump door stairwell as Mrs. Risenborough was 
set gently on the squad bench. 

Marco and Chet brought their equipment to them and Captain Stanley 
ordered Chet to drive the squad into Rampart.  "Kelly, go."
He then told him that they would follow in behind to pick him back up 
again after the transport.

The ambulance doors closed and Marco Lopez gave Malcolm the 
"all clear" signal to drive away. 

The Mayfair took off code three towards Rampart. 

McConnikee said, as Engine 51's crew starting leaving, to all 
except Chet Kelly whom he had noticed was driving the squad into 
Rampart. "Hey, Hank. I'll meet you back at the station for some 
of that good coffee you guys make? I need to tell you guys 
something about this incident that will interest you." 

"Sure. Come on down, Bill. Make yourself at home. Henry will be 
glad to see you." Captain Stanley said with a smile. 

"See you there." Chief McConnikee said. Then he picked up the 
mic on his vehicle C.B. "L.A ., Battalion 14. This incident's under 
control. Police and PG&E are to take over with Fire Investigator 
3 on scene. Time out : Forty five minutes at 0800."

##Battalion 14, 10-4.## Sam Lanier replied over the radio.

Captain Stanley then got on the Ward's mobile radio and added. 
"L.A., Engine 51. We're clearing the scene and are en route to 
Rampart Hospital to briefly pick up a crew member."

In his usual fashion on their private station channel off the main
one, Dispatcher Lanier replied. ##Engine 51, 10-4. Good job, guys.##  
 
------------------------------------------------------------------------

As soon as the ambulance took off towards Rampart, Roy DeSoto got
on the biocom. He waited until the yellow busy light was off before speaking
since he knew that Squad 45 was using the same frequency for their 
patient report. As soon as the frequency cleared, he got on the air. 
"Rampart,County 51." Roy said.

##Go ahead, 51. This is Rampart.## replied Dr. Morton.

"Rampart, we are in route with our two patients now with a seven
minute ETA. There' are still no changes in our victims' statuses
since we've last contacted you. Please have the trauma team standing
by, over."

##51, yes. They are standing by.## Dr. Morton replied.

"We'll give you another update when we are two minutes out."

##10-4, 51.## Dr. Morton said as there was another flurry of activity 
at the ER entrance.

-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

It was growing busy at the hospital.

Dr. Early met Squad 116 and their elderly patient whom the 
paramedics said had a history of mental illness. She had 
apparently slipped and fallen in the bathroom where she 
broke her ankle. She was singing "Amour" from Biset's opera 
"Carmen" as paramedic Bailey and an EMT from Goodhew 
ambulance named Hills, brought her out of the ambulance. 

As she was being wheeled in with Hills, Bailey, and their respective 
partners, she saw Dr. Brackett and Dr. Early waiting for her arrival 
at the triage nurses's station. She instantly broke out singing. 
''@Oh, sweet mistery of life, I'm so glad I've found you@."

The doctors both shook their heads and Dr. Early said to the 
incoming crew. "Put her in three." And then he went with them 
to look after his patient.

Dr. Brackett sighed as he met Dr. Morton and Dixie McCall back at
the nurses's station . "I don't know if it's the wind that's bringing 
in these crazy patients, or if I'm going crazy myself, Dix."

"Is there a full moon out?" Nurse McCall asked.

"No, first quarter." Dr. Brackett said.

"It seems that every time the santa anas kick up, we get every
strange character under the sun with at least some kind of odd 
problem." Dr. Morton replied.

"Well, Mike, you are kind of a strange character, too, since you
are the only junior resident we have currently at the hospital." 
Dr. Brackett chuckled.

"I resent that!" smiled Dr. Morton as he stood in the doorway of
the base station cubicle with his arms folded. "Still being inexperienced
in some cases doesn't automatically mean that I'm that odd. 
Maybe someone who's odd is a doctor who claims to have seen it 
all before." he winked, pointing an index finger at Kel.

"Hey, let's not pick on each other!..." Dixie said with a smile.

------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Photos:  None.

*************************************************
From: Patti or Jeff or Cassidy <theaterhost@voyagerliveaction.com> 
Date: Wed Jan 4, 2006  10:37 am 
Subject: Shuffling The Patient Care Cards.. 


"....We've enough work to do without poking jabs at the home team
while the bases filling up." she told them both. Then the amused
smirk fell completely off her face. "I'm putting 45's near drowning
into five, Mike." McCall added. "That way, we'll have the x-ray
machine in three open for someone else who really needs it."

"Ok, that'll work. I'll go call respiratory therapy to line
up a bird for her." he replied.

"How's she doing? I only heard part of that run while those two
motorcops were in listening with you." asked Dixie.

"45's said that she still wasn't breathing on her own during their
last transmission to me." Morton nodded, quickly disappearing
into that room to get it ready for that patient's full resuscitation care.
"but they also said that her v-tach was stabilizing on adenosine."

Dixie pursed her lips. "Boy, that was lucky for her."

"Real lucky." said Mike. "She'll survive this with a little help."

It was right then that Roy and Johnny arrived with their two tower
collapse trauma cases.

Kel saw them coming and he called out loudly. "Guys!
Don't bother bringing them into the "stabe" room. We've got two
O.R. and anethesiology teams set and waiting for them upstairs.
Any support work we have to do, we'll do up there in pre-op. Move
them into here. It's on pause." he said about the elevator in which
he was standing.

DeSoto and Gage did, passing off their patients run charts over
to Dr. Brackett who quickly read them while they all piled into the
patient freight elevator still being held open for them by an orderly.

The two ambulance gurneys were steadied by many hands
as the doors closed behind them.

------------------------------------------------------------------------------- 
 
Jon and Ponch from the highway patrol felt themselves backed
against a wall by the crush of patients who seemed to be arriving
to Rampart from every exterior door.

"Come on, partner." said Francis. "If it's this busy in here, just imagine
what the streets are probably getting like."

Jon Baker rubbed his nose, reshifting his motorcycle helmet under his
arm while he sipped his hastily grabbed coffee. "You really want
to go back out there again? It's boring. You know how it works for us
whenever the fire department units get swamped, we never get anything
to do ourselves."

"That's true. And when we're busy, they don't get any calls at all."
said Poncharello.

Baker's face sobered.
"Let's go. It's time we left this to those who are actually
handling it." Jon said, throwing a open palm out to all the bustling
doctors, nurses and arriving fire department rescue squad pairs
rushing around them. "I'm feeling like a extra left boot."

Ponch nodded. "Just watch how fast I can disappear. Race ya
back to the freeway." he said walking fast out of the emergency
entrance doors.

"Ponch, go slow. You don't want Sergeant Getraer on your case again,
do you? You already have two speeding tickets issued out from
our own police cruisers on your records." Jon said, chasing after him.

"I do? Oh.. yeah. I had forgotten about those. Ok. Just for you then
partner, I'll be a pure featherfoot." Ponch grinned toothily.

The two highway patrolmen left Rampart, turning right under
the skywalk, with an accelerating thrum of rev-ed up motorcycle
engines.

-----------------------------------------------------------------------

Photo:  Brackett and Gage in a hallway with a defib in 
             the background.
 
Photo:  Johnny arriving in hallway with a victim.
 
Photo: Roy, Gage and a nurse in the elevator. 
 
Photo: Docs operating on a patient. 
 
Photo : Chips highway patrolmen, Ponch and Jon
             on the scene. 
 
Photo:  Morton treating an old man while Gage and
             Roy watch in the background.
 
**************************************************
From :  Roxy Dee <laterrapincabesa@hotmail.com> 
Sent :  Thursday, January 5, 2006 4:30 PM 
Subject :  Heart to Heart~~ 


Roy and Johnny reappeared back onto the ground
floor of emergency services. They left the elevator with
their two station backboards, already sprayed off and
germicided by a thoughtful surgical technician.

"Man, those two are the luckiest building collapse
victims I've seen in a long, long while." Johnny remarked 
while they walked down the hallway towards the
desk to resupply their I.V.s and cervical collar stores.
"The vascular surgeon got great pulses in both
their legs and feet using that sonogram. You can't
get any better results than that. And they both could
still wiggle their toes, too."

"I'm usually not one to be a raging optimist in trauma
cases as severe as theirs, but I think you're right. This
time." he held up a warning finger so Gage would know not
to get his hopes up so high for a future run that proved
as bad conditions wise. "I think they had a lot going for them
because they weren't dwelling so much on themselves as
much as they were worried about each other. How you handle
things psychologically in adverse situations has got to say
a bit about what kind of cards you'll be dealing with afterwards.
I've been in the business long enough to start noticing certain
patterns. Remember that hand stab last week who was so 
shocky, that we had to ventilate her a bit whenever she 
fainted on it?"

"Yeah, I remember. Talk about panicking. She drove herself
into not breathing so hot." Johnny sniffed as they both paused 
at the main desk. "And how about that soy farmer with the severed 
hand? Walked right into the ambulance without so much as breaking
out into a light sweat with normal vital signs? That was weird."

"Not really. That was an example of positive will power at work. 
Just what I've been talking about here. I wish half the patients we 
treat would learn that same mind trick." DeSoto grinned. "It would
make their rescue experience with us a whole lot more comfortable."

"In your dreams. Think about it from their perspective. You're
suddenly slammed into an unexpected emergency that possibly
threatens your life. Nine times out of ten, you've never been in
that kind of situation before. Now how in the heck can anyone have
enough previous experience in their life to not let that kind of thing get 
the best of em? Especially if it happens to them kinda fast like 
it usually does. You've got to be absolutely stunned while it's still 
going on. It's only natural." replied Gage.

"That's what WE'RE good for, Johnny. To do all the thinking 
and worrying for them. I keep thinking that if we find the right way
to explain things to the conscious ones, or even those that aren't,
that they'd do a little better for us on the way in. But there isn't yet 
a surefire book on reverse psychology for covering any of that. 
Everybody's personality's different." 

"Exactly my point, Roy. That's why I think those two up there
in that operating room are so lucky. They figured it out." he grinned
hugely.

"I just wish I could. I don't enjoy seeing downward vitals trends."
DeSoto grumbled.

"No paramedic does." agreed Johnny. "Let's start experimenting on
that ok? Promise?"

"Ok. I'm game. But who're we gonna experiment on in between
response calls?"

"The guys.." Johnny nodded seriously.

"The guys? Johnny, they're not even hurt or anything. How can
they be of any use to us?"

"They hurt, Roy. Just like we do, when we all lose someone on
a station run. It hasn't been that long since we lost those two 
swimmers in the reservoir. We can use that as impetus if the 
topic crops up again at lunch today."

"The CISM counselors have already made all the rounds they're
gonna do. No one was interested."

"True, but that doesn't mean they're not hurting any. That means,
they've decided to get mule-headed about it." Gage said, raising
both eyebrows without a smile.

Roy fell silent, listening to the whispers of his own pain still just
under the surface. "They were kind of young. And such a pointless
boating accident, too. I mean, who ties off an innertube rope on 
an anchor's drag handle so close to an outboard prop? That 
was...uh..." the memory of how badly mangled they were, returned
in a flash. "....pretty stupid."

"Yeah, it was." Johnny said, getting faintly angry and sad at the same
time. "So there's some hurt we can sink our teeth into. Maybe easing
some of their stuff will ease ours."

Roy looked up at Johnny and gave him a miniscule nod and the
two of them fell quietly thoughtful. His look told Gage that he was
more than game to try.

Dixie wasn't around, so DeSoto and Gage helped themselves
to the base station coffee pot. It was full and fresh, a sign of a
busy shift. Johnny held it up so Roy would get the same sign he
did about the E.R. to explain why Dixie or another nurse wasn't 
there to fill a supply order yet.

They filled only two cups since Chet Kelly had already rejoined 
the engine crew and had accepted their drive-by pickup. They 
had heard as much through the radio traffic coming from their HTs
while working on their two seniors in the pre-operation room.   
 
About three minutes later, someone did come to help them out.
But the nurse who came, wasn't Dixie.

::That's too bad.:: Roy thought. ::I wanted to pick her brain about
how SHE calms and relaxes people down.::  

--------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Soon, DeSoto and Gage were back at the station and they were 
surprised to see Chief Bill McConnikee still hanging around the 
chower pot.

Johnny's defense against the mild depression that he and Roy had 
reflared was to grab the long dusty guitar out of Chet's locker. 

Without preamble, Johnny sat down in a chair, and started playing.

Badly.

-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Photo:  Johnny playing a guitar while Stoker and the gang listens
             over a chessboard.

Photo:  McConnikee sitting with Cap at the kitchen table.

Photo:  Roy and Johnny treating a shocky child. 


************************************************************************
From: Sam Iam <lafddispatcher@yahoo.com> 
Date: Fri Jan 6, 2006  7:35 pm 
Subject: Hardball.. 
 

Henry, the couch potato bassett, immediately sat up
and started howling at the teeth jarring, scalp twisting
absolutely wrong chords and notes Johnny plucked out
of the sorry looking wooden guitar.

Of all of them, Roy DeSoto was the only one who didn't wince.
::He's starting our psych pick me up experiment already?::
he wondered.

Chief McConnikee wasn't fooled either, his eye didn't miss the
feathery dust wafting up from the guitar strings as Johnny's
uncalloused fingers stoked them into a knotted bluesy
jive. He started grinning. "Why Hank, I didn't know one of your
boys was such an officionado of one of the finer arts. That's-
that's really starting to come along here." he said gesturing at
Johnny's closed eyed, oblivious playing. He tried a wink at
the paramedic to tell him that he knew the game of emotional 
probing hard ball was on, but Gage's enthusiasm slowed 
how attuned to the chief's hint he was, unintentionally.

"I didn't know, either." said Stanley, reliving a powerful, 
would-like-to-have-forgotten-it-instantly memory of when 
Gage had been on his one time and one time only music kick. 

McConnikee upped his ante'. "Say, Gage. Did you know that
some of the best, longest serving fire fighters I know are all 
talented musicians? When I talk with them, they say playing helps 
them initially cope a bit with their excess day to day baggage. 
Is that what you do, too?"

Johnny's chording faltered even more when his shock at the chief's
correct guess at what he was up to, sank in. His playing died away.
"Uh,..really. Didn't know that.. And yeah, I've... been known to dabble
with this ..sometimes. Uh, sir, uh, what do you do whenever
you know, whenever you feel like you just wanna rip out all your hair?"
Gage asked loud enough to be overheard by everybody. Then
just under his breath he added, "...what's left of it." he mumbled.

Chet Kelly's face went white as a sheet at that comment and unbidden,
his left shoe under the table, started tapping sharply on Johnny's shin 
to shut him up.

Even Henry dropped off into utter silence and his ears perked forward.

But the chief didn't seem to have heard the jab.

Roy barely hid a smirk and covered himself by folding interested 
hands together across his chest to mask his amusement as he 
waited for the chief's response.

Johnny's throat wasn't even dry. He was banking on the fact that the
chief was playing along with his and Roy's plans to.....talk. The kind
of talk that firemen usually never shared with each other without some
kind of official counseling mediator, sent from headquarters, hanging 
over their heads. He subtlely slid his chair over to the right to
get out of Chet's kicking reach in order to hand over the old guitar to 
Bill, who was literally reaching for it with wiggly fingers.

Bill McConnikee settled the ornate country western strap over his
broad shoulders and after a brief, swift retuning of the flaccid strings, 
he coaxed a very bright, jaunty prison feeling number out of it. "I just 
learned this one last week from some fresh faced new fella playing 
an open stage in a bar." he said. "Said he was making his big break
with the record company. Played something called Leaving On a Jet Plane
with a trio of others. I think he was a singer, too." And his playing shifted to 
the melody he just mentioned.

"Hey, I think I know him, chief. But I can't remember his name right off 
hand." Johnny remarked.  

"I've forgotten what his was, too." said the chief. "But I remember
that I liked his music set immensely."

Henry, instantly collapsed into a heap onto his side in pure
beastly bliss at the sweet sounds whispering out of the guitar.

Everyone but Johnny and Roy just stared at Henry and the chief.
Both of them. Back and forth. Like a tight tennis match.

Only Johnny and his partner were playing things cool. The door
was wide open. "So...." Roy stammered, "You find this allows
you to get whatever's bugging you off your chest pretty easily?"
he nodded in encouragement for Bill to dive right on in. "Nice tune.
Never heard it before."

"As I said, that musician was going places. And I always pay attention
to people who're doing just that." he winked at Cap, tapping his white
inspection hat that he always wore when he was visiting a station, even
when he wasn't conducting a surprise snap inspection. 

Hank immediately blanched, and the past sin of committing mayhem by
the burning of Bill's old absent hat came slamming back into his brain like
a freight train. ::The chief's paying close attention to me still for that?!::
he thought in sudden horror. ::I thought he was here to talk about our last
rescue call. I didn't know he was out for my bl---::

"Music's always a balm. Never forget that, guys. Gage may be still be
new at it. But he's on the right track here. You should follow his example."
the chief grinned, taking off the guitar strap. He held out the instrument
by the neck, passing it off to Gage.

Johnny took it.

"I think I will." Chet Kelly said, snatching it quickly out of Gage's fingers.

"Give me that..." Johnny smiled, which wasn't really a smile at all as
he snatched it back. He started playing again. This time, he plucked
a very hesitant version of the first song the chief had strummed for them, 
but at a molasses snail's pace. With every third note a half key off.

"That's the way, Gage. Wrong notes don't matter with the blues. They just
seem to fit." McConnikee grinned. Then he looked to Roy to continue
what was afoot between him and the two paramedics.

DeSoto's stammer was even more pronounced than Johnny's. He
found himself tongue tied. "Yeah, uh, Chet here, collects barbed wire
as a hobby in order to relax. Somedays, he completely fills up the kitchen
table to show them off to all of us. Uh, what do you do, Cap, to blow off
some steam?"

"I yell..." he said with narrowed brows and a firm press on his lips.
He wasn't smiling.

All the gang froze. 

Then Hank's mouth opened up and he laughed great guffaws at his own
joke.

Bill was the only one to join in.

The chief poured himself some more coffee from the steel pot sitting
in front of them from its place on a gingham pot holder. "Funny, Hank. That's
a good one. Yep. Guitar playing.... Collecting bits of antique wire... It all helps
a great deal, guys. I should come up with a stress relief program demanding
that you fellas practice some kind of hobby to do religiously so I know you
all have a relief valve going for ya." Then he leaned into the table from his
chair in a confidential air. "I hate those CISM shrinks, too." he admitted, "with
a passion. But they do know their jobs and Headquarters seems to like em."

He sat back with a sigh and studied the two speechless paramedics in front
of him, just waiting for them to delve again. But neither of their lips moved.

Bill decided that they were giving up on the emotional probing and he changed
the subject. "Now about the way that earlier tower tumble was handled..." he 
said, lifting up a finger with a stern face.

The gang's eyes got bigger and they re-petrified.

"Nice job, all. I got word on my way over here that those two victims we dug out
together are doing just fine. That's a thing I always like to hear." Battalion said.

"We do too,..Bill." Gage peeped, smiling faintly, slapping an affectionate hand
onto McConnikee's shoulder.

Chet kicked his shin again. Cap did, too.

"I mean, Chief, uh, sir..." Johnny amended, pulling back his hand as if it had
burned him. He started playing again as if his life depended on it.

The chief's gray eyebrow furrows narrowed stonily, but then Cap said...

----------------------------------------------------------------------------

Photos : None. 

**************************************************
From: "Cory Anda" <andacory@hotmail.com> 
Date: Tue Jan 10, 2006 7:52pm 
Subject: Struck... 


"Chief, at our last call, you said that you had something
that would interest me about the response we just wrapped
up an hour ago." Hank deflected.

Bill looked up, effectively diverted. "Hmmm? Oh, yes, I did
say that, didn't I? A change in the department, captain. And
for the better."

"Oh?" Stanley asked, his eyebrows raised.

"By next week, no fire department will ever have to haggle with
a city or suburb via Headquarters in order to turn off gas or
electrical utilities at the scene of an incident.." McConnikee
smiled. "They will have already been shut down even before
any firecrew gets there."

That shocked everybody. 

"Really?" Kelly asked.

"How'd they manage to do that?" Stoker added. "Don't tell me
that all the public utilities suddenly turned clairvoyant.."

Bill looked up at 51's engineer with a frank frown. "In a way, they
have. Gentlemen, yesterday, I was informed that within soco city 
limits in all L.A. County Fire Department service areas, that we've
finally entered a new age of infrastructure regulated technology. 
They've gone fully computerized, boys. The minute there's
a disruption of any kind in the power net or in the gas flows, safety shut
offs are triggered on both sides of the trouble spot and plant operators
are notified soon afterwards."

Cap celebrated. "Terrific! No more ripping my hair out waiting
for the proverbial tinder box to unfuel itself under other fingertips
while chewing on my own."

"Wow.. " remarked Roy. "When did all that automation happen?"

McConnikee grinned expansively. "Little by little over the past three 
years.  Believe me, I was shocked as snot myself when I heard the
news. That whole robotic communications net they have up now, is
a lot like the monitoring network usually in place in a subway transportation
system."

"Something of which we don't have in California due to all the
earthquakes..." DeSoto smiled.

Bill nodded. "We been behind the times on how the city senses itself.
But not anymore I'm pleased to say. And that's a boon for the whole department."
He rose in his chair and subconsciously, so did the rest of the gang.
"Well, I'd better be getting back. I've a stack of captains' exams to plow through
from Division 2 to get done before sundown. See you fellas. Stay safe out there."

"Thanks for helping us today, Chief." Hank said seriously. "Your hands
on bit probably made all the difference in the world for those two people 
we dug out this morning. There's nothing like having a higher up around to 
motivate things to move along a little faster."

"It wasn't about that, Hank. Your station has one of the best track records
for speedy extrications. I wasn't worried about that. I only wanted to get
my hands dirty again for once. I've missed getting into all the action, especially
since new paperwork, like the new city automation alert packet I just told you about, 
seems to ...magically pile up by the pound in front of me onto my desk.
Seems like there's more and more of it every year, too. It sucks, gentlemen. 
And the main consequence besides burning the eyes out of your head for
all the reading, is gaining a big one of these.." Bill said, smacking his ample 
waistline.

All the gang chuckled.

"Well, I'd better go. Maybe I can bug 116's after dinner and help out on one of
their brush fire assignments while I'm delivering the good news about the
new utilities management system to them. See you, thanks for lunch and coffee."

"No problem, chief." said Captain Stanley as he opened the kitchen side door
for McConnikee. "Thanks for lightening my radio load."

"Any time, Hank. Any time." said Battalion as he returned to his chief's car parked
neatly facing the avenue in the side drive. "I like being the bearing of good tidings."

They watched, as McConnikee pulled away from the stoop, waving at his tip of the hat
he gave them as he drove off.

"Ooo, Cap.." gushed Chet. "Does this mean you're gonna find a way to lighten our
radio traffic load so us guys can enjoy something just as nice as that bit of news
was for you?"

"I'm working on it." Cap said after a thoughtful pause. "There's a new fangled
thing called a passage device or some other name that some yokel dreamed 
up last month. It's still in the testing phases."

"What will that do for us?" Marco asked.

"Don't know the answer to that quite yet. Its designer claims it'll revolutionize the
whole fire department. He's hailing it as a new kind of life saver."

Johnny sniggered. "You mean there's something more revolutionary than a blind
insertion luminal airway? I heard about that new paramedic tester device from 
Brice yesterday. He says it's being used in the surgical wards at Rampart right now
to learn its versatility."

"Apparently so." Cap said, finishing off his cup of coffee. "I guess we'll all just have
to wait for the final word on both of those things when they finally filter down to
us as official gear."

Kelly started clearing the lunch bowls. "Meanwhile, the waiting's intolerable.
It'd be nice for a little job improvement more often than once every five years.
The last thing we got was that our asbestos tarps were taken away."

"Hmmm." Cap snorted. "We got a change. Roy and Johnny here got themselves
free of being tied to those dangerous glass I.V. bottles last month."

"I'm talking about something for us common fire guys, Cap. Everybody knows 
that it's the paramedics who get all the experimenting benefits when they crop up."

Gage had a compliment to cheer Chet and he shared it. "How can you improve
perfection? Maybe engine firefighting's honed to the sharpest it can be already."

"So where's the pay raise then? Geez, guys. Think about it. We're in the forgotten
multitudes." he sighed at Marco and Stoker. "I'm bushed. Who's up for a nap after 
someone volunteers to help me do the dishes?" Chet auctioned off.

All hands were fully raised just as an injury tones call went out for the station.


##Station 51. Man down at the shipping yard. Dock workers report 
an explosion occurance without fire. 6610 Busch Blvd... 6610 Busch Blvd. 
Cross street, Canal 5 Causeway. Time out : 13:11.##

The gang rolled out of their chairs, abandoning the kitchen lunch table.

Roy got in an acknowledgement at the alcove station. "Station 51, 10-4.
KMG 365."

Soon, both the Ward and rescue squad were flying down the boulevard towards
the nearby industrial ocean canal district.

----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
They were met instantly by the loading dock boss. "This way fellas. He's still out."
said a big burly yellow hard hatted man wearing tan coveralls. "I think he's
hurt real bad."

"What happened?" Cap asked, as he shut the engine's door.

"We don't know. Mac was unloading those crates from Europe over there
using the ship's roof crane when Kablewy! Something went up. It caught 
my brand new man here real bad in a flash and knocked him flat."

Johnny and Roy immediately got their medical gear and the oxygen over
to the clustered group of dock workers holding another young man on the 
ground's head still. 

"Did you move him?" Gage asked loudly.

"No. They didn't." answered the dock boss. "I'm not that stupid. I know about 
the possible broken neck and back thing happening in any fall or bump 
my men might take. I told them to lay off him past making sure that his tongue wasn't 
blockin' off his breathin."

Cap got the boss's attention again. "What do you think caused this mess?"
Hank asked, sweeping a glove and active HT over the shattered debris dotting
the canal waters and the concrete immediately upwind of them.

"Larry found this.." said the boss. And he handed Cap a bill of laden.

Cap read it quickly. "Aww, nuts!  Gang, get your air bottles on before you
go anywhere near that fallen pallet. I got a CAS number of 7439-95-4."

The boss immediately got alarmed. "What? Did we screw up somehow moving
that junk?"

Cap took his arm and spoke gently. "You had no way of knowing this clearly.
The crates are marked totally wrong. Stoker! Call a foam unit. We've got
pure, loose magnesium powder of an unknown quantity, right there!" he said, 
stabbing a finger at the jumble of splintered crates. Then he turned to the boss
and the small group of dock workers still hovering over Roy and Johnny
and the unconscious man, sprawled on his back. "Mister, I want you to get
everybody who's outside within three hundred feet of him.." he said,
pointing at the injured man. "...well back. Better yet get them all inside the 
warehouse and close those main bay doors."

"I'm doing it!" said the boss man, running and shouting. He soon had the area
cleared and locked down tight so the firefighters could work.

Gage was still tossing the wooden boards off of their explosion victim while
his other glove rested on the man's stomach to monitor his shallow respirations.
"Cap, you want us in scba, too?"

Hank shook his head, squinting at the color of the sky. He set up the oxygen 
tank his paramedics needed. "You're safely downwind. The day's land/sea 
breeze is already rock solid. It's not going to shift with the Santa Anas shearing 
like they're doing on its topside."

Gage finally got to their patient's head as he shooed the last first aider away.
His fingers found a careful jaw thrust lift that eased the man's fitful gasping
soon afterwards. Then he did a double take, when his eyes caught sight of
the man's face. "Ohmyg*d. Is this man who I think he--?" he broke off when he
realized the dock workers had already retreated to safety on Cap's order.

Johnny leaned in closer, making sure the man was breathing well in a listening
check.

Roy smacked his arm, holding out an oral airway and handing Johnny
a flowing oxygen mask. "Here. I'll check out his back next. Cap, would you 
go get a C-collar from the rear stow?"

"Yep." said Hank. And he jogged to the squad to get one.

Johnny was still gaping and he stared at the young, round eye glassed, page
styled, blonde haired man under his hands for long moments.

Roy finally lost patience and snatched back the oropharyngeal from his partner. 
He cross fingered in the short oral himself and planted the oxygen mask down 
over the pale man's nose and mouth.

Gage slowly reanimated. "Roy, don't you know who this is?"
he said, throwing a chin downwards while his hands continued to hold the 
face bruised man's head and neck still.

"No." DeSoto said, working swiftly in a check for broken bones and other
problems.

Gage dissassembled. "This here's Jimmy Colorado! The one and only."
he grinned.

"Yeah, well whoever he is. He knows you're not acting very professional right
now while you're drooling in amazement, all over him. Sorry, sir. Forgive, 
Johnny here. We ARE taking good care of you." he said to the unconscious 
man's closest ear. "Try to pick up your breathing a little. You're doing ok
for us. I'm not finding any bad problems yet past a swollen right knee so far.
Can you hear me?" he asked tapping a light finger over one of his eyelids
a few times after he gingerly removed the man's round glasses for safe keeping.

The man didn't move or swallow around the airway in the slightest.

Cap returned with the cervical collar and a backboard. "Marco, Stoker. Grab
some sandbags. Once we get him moved outta here, we'll worry about the
mag spill."

Soon, Gage was freed up hands wise so he could get an initial complete 
blood pressure past a pulse estimated one. His earlier starstruck gape, 
was disappearing and he was fully back to business. "Roy, 92 over 66. He's not
reactant to pain either." Johnny shared, after pinching the underside skin of
the man's upper arm firmly between a few fingers. "He's not diaphoretic
though despite this pallor. Resp rate's twenty two and regular."

"Ok.." said Roy, finishing up a Babinski's on the man's feet that he had bared
for a CMS check. "So far so good down here, too. No apparent fractures. 
But I think we should splint that knee up anyway. It's getting pretty big. Marco, 
can you handle that before we check out his back and log roll him onto the 
board?"

"Got it." said Lopez.

Gage added more. "And see if he's got his I.D. on him in one of his
jeans' pockets, too." he ordered eagerly.

Roy threw his eyes skyward. "That can wait. We're rapidly getting out, 
remember?"

"Finding a wallet's important, too. He.....might have a preexisting condition 
we need to know about to explain all this wheezy breathing." Johnny 
stammered as a little of his recognition stun came back. 

"He got the wind knocked out of him when the crates went up most likely." 
Roy shrugged dryly. "Come on, focus here, Johnny. Ok? ..Chet. Fellas. 
On the count of three, we'll tip him my way. One, two... three...
Cap, keep those legs in an easy line. He's twisting a little."
Roy quickly scissored away the man's shirt back and pants to look
for more injuries and bleeding. There was none. "Ok, that's
it. He's clear. Roll him back down. Yeah, he's centered. Ok. Let's get 
those straps on next."

Soon the comatose man was safely long boarded and head tilted up onto
the splints box by the squad behind the secure shielding bulk of the Ward.

Cap and the others went to tend the hot spot in air bottles.

Gage silently brandished a found wallet at Roy and set it open onto Jimmy's 
stomach and turned it so Roy could read the driver's license himself while 
they opened Jimmy's shirt to set him up for an EKG reading. 

Roy ignored his partner with a sigh of long patience and picked up
the phone to Rampart to give their opening hail.

---------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Photo:  Roy and Johnny treating a downed man in a ship yard.

**************************************************
From: Sam Iam <lafddispatcher@yahoo.com> 
Date: Wed Jan 11, 2006  5:31 pm 
Subject: Hazmat 


Captain Stanley got on his HT to Headquarters. "L.A., Engine 51."

##Engine 51, this is L.A.## answered the dispatcher's calm baritone.

"We have a positive I.D. of several hundred pounds of pure magnesium
exposed to the air and sitting on a wet pier. There are signs of recent 
explosive hydrogen gas effects. Respond a Haz Mat crew for 
decontamination and clean up. I have a foam truck standing by should 
this spill ignite other combustibles in nearby shipping crates of unknown 
content." Hank told him, cocking his head. He had heard Foam 127 pull 
up at the same safe distance his own vehicles were positioned at 
around the corner of the large sea facing warehouse. He motioned for 
their captain to come on over once he saw his men air bottled.
"For now, holding dry and seeing about getting large quantities of sand."
Captain Stanley made sure he was upwind and pulled off his air mask
long enough to eyeball the pier boss and crook a finger to draw the man
out of the building from where he was watching anxiously, to commandeer a 
front end loader to deliver just that. The boss took the hint and exited a side
door away from the canal and he circled around until he had met Hank
behind the bulk of the engine. He had on his own contamination air bottle 
of short acting duration, the kind normally issued to ship firefighters.

Immediately, a triple beep intercepted the transmission. ##L.A. This
is Battalion 14. I'm in the immediate area. I'll be responding to fully
assess the situation for escalating fire conditions. My E.T.A. is 
four minutes.##

##Battalion 14, 10-4. 51's incident address is 6610 Busch Blvd. 
Cross street, Canal 5 Causeway. Your time out : 13:19.## said L.A. 

##Battalion 14. KMA 116.## acknowledged Bill through his wailing 
siren over the frequency.

Captain Stanley replied. "Engine 51, Battalion 14. I note your response
and estimated time of arrival. We've only one injured civilian who's 
been confirmed as contamination free. Ambulance is not on scene. I'm 
getting bills of laden handed to me right now for all cargo inside the hot 
zone. We're located on the north side of the causeway. Our wind is north 
to south banking west and then out to sea away from most line of sight 
cargo barges and all buildings. Please notify responding units 
of our local weather conditions from the coast guard. In fact, having
them come out here themselves isn't a bad idea. They could 
oversee operations."

##Copy, Engine 51. Keep your men in scba and fully outfitted 
outside the radius you've marked. Have them wait until your sand arrives. 
A three hundred foot circle should just about cover it.## McConnikee 
advised Captain Stanley.##And I already have a Coast Guard Dolphin 
crew, their closest cutter and Fire Boat 110 en route to your position
with an E.T.A. of under two minutes. Watch for them.##

"Engine 51, 10-4, Battalion. I will advise you of all changes." Hank 
replied. Then Stanley put his mask back on as he turned to the pier 
boss to discuss getting one of his pier firefighters to drive in a 
front loader to dump sand and air smother the magnesium spill 
until it could be scraped into an empty cargo container in the 
canal for safe water decomposition and later disposal.

127's captain jogged on over, placing his helmet over the
air straps fastened around his face. Hank leaned into him, grabbing
him around the shoulders and soon they got into an immediate plan of 
attack huddle with the pier boss and the new paired pier firefighting 
team the warehouse boss had summoned through the harbor
master by phone.

Battalion 14's lanky red car soon pulled up behind them and their
efforts were joined.

Then they broke apart. Hank got on his walkie talkie to advise his
own men, waiting in a line along the landside of the La France.
"Engine 51 to HTs 51, all. In two minutes, a front loader will be
coming in from the shipping yard with his first load of sand. 
Marco, Stoker, Kelly, follow him with a charged inch and
a half each time he moves in to dump his sand but do not 
release any water over him. Do that only if a fire erupts to turn 
away any explosion from him. And if fire does happen, do not eyeball
any flames directly or you'll burn your eyes. The brightness 
flaring from the burning mag will flash sear your eyes in seconds, 
faster than an arc welder's. Foam 127 will be covering you should fire 
get around your cover before you make good your escape with the 
driver. Secondarily, wash down those blue crates..... right over there, 
when he goes back for more sand without getting any of the original 
fallen ones dampened in the slightest. Make sure all the runoff you 
make goes straight into the ocean. Those second bins contain 
fresh shrimp." Cap told his men. 

Chet groaned. ##Oh, no. Iodine? Those'll smoke the mag for sure
if the wind blows any powder over there.##

Hank grinned ruefully through his air mask. "That's probably what
made the initial explosion go off when the magnesium crates fell off 
their unloading cables the first time. So, the sooner we wash the 
fish juice away, the better off we'll be. Go.."

Marco, Stoker and Kelly soon had their hose set up ready and waiting
for the silver hazmat suited and air bottled pier firefighter to start
up the heavy machinery.

---------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Photo:  Coast Guard helicopter and boat in the ocean.

Photo:  Cap yelling over a bullhorn while his men watch by engine.

Photo:  McConnikee and Cap and Gage standing by squad.

Photo:  Roy and Gage patching a man into the monitor and on O2.

**************************************************
From: "patti keiper" <pattik1@hotmail.com> 
Date: Wed Jan 11, 2006  7:18 pm 
Subject: World of Silence..? 
 

Roy lifted the biophone receiver and plugged in the antennae.
He was just about to speak when Johnny looked up from
the eyes of their victim that he had been checking out with a penlight.

"Roy,..he's gone tachycardic.." Gage said suddenly. "Just started
happening." he said, getting a grip on Jimmy's carotid as he
looked at his watch to time it.

Roy set the unused receiver onto his shoulder and he looked 
at the EKG monitor which was set to visual tracing, studying it for 
long moments, then he flicked on the audible mode so both 
could follow what was happening without looking away from 
what they were doing by listening to its sounds. The beat was 
racing at 150, and it was bounding. "Adrenaline effects? He 
might be waking up some. His breathing's still ok. It's not 
causing this V-tach." DeSoto told him.

Johnny shifted his attention from his patient's vital signs to 
neurological ones. He tried another pain check with a firm
sternal rub in between two of the man's EKG pads. He was
rewarded when Jimmy jerked both of his hands under the
backboard straps. Deftly, Gage slid the oxygen mask aside
and pulled out the oral airway before he could gag on it.
"Jim?...Jimmy? Can you hear me? Open up your eyes. Can
you do that for me?.. Hey.." he said, rubbing knuckles once 
more, grinding a couple fairly deep into Colorado's breastbone.

A weak groan trickled out of Jimmy's cracked lips and he kicked
out both legs. Pain from the knee finished the job of arousing
and he was suddenly awake. "OhhHHh...  nghhH. *cough* "
The heartbeats coming from the monitor speakers jolted a series 
of slow beats at the cough, then started racing once more when 
a sudden new panic filled Jimmy's face. Fear poured into his eyes 
as they snapped open and started watering under the sun.

"Hey,... take it easy. You're all right... You're all right." Gage said,
firmly, grabbing one of Jim's shoulders to keep him still. "That 
explosion's over. You're safe. Tell me what's happening to you, 
ok? Can you talk?" he said, leaning close over his face.

Jimmy's eyes met and tracked Johnny's easily. But he didn't speak. 
He remained obviously frightened and it reflected in the monitored
heartbeats, which climbed even faster.

"Are you in pain? Is it your leg? Or is it your neck or back?" 
Roy tried asking him, taking a hold of his other shoulder.

Jimmy Colorado gave a cry of dismay. 

Then he froze, taking in an unpleasant breath of discovery. 
"Guys, I can't hear you. At all. Are you yelling? I can't.....hear ....
anything.  I... my ears were ringing before. Now they're totally quiet!" 
he panicked in a rich sounding tenor voice.  The paramedics saw 
that he wasn't even the slightest bit confused mentally from the blackout 
disorientation that they were used to seeing on people who finally 
decided to wake up for them.

"Ok. ok.." Johnny said. "Just let me put this oxygen mask
back on. It'll start slowing your heart down some. I'm going to 
check your ears out right now. Just try to relax. You're not hurt bad 
at all. We've just got you on a backboard and in a C-collar as a 
precaution." he pantomimed with two hands wrapped around his 
own neck to demonstrate what he was talking about visually.

Jimmy's eyes took in the straps over his chest and the wires
feeding the Tetronix display and a hand worked free to
feel the oxygen mask sitting over his face tentatively.

It was more Johnny's reassuring smile than his words that
made the man settle a bit. Fright was still very highly evident on
the EKG monitor, but Jimmy no longer tried moving his arms and
legs. He was watching both paramedic's faces intently instead.

Johnny knelt down with his penlight and check both ear canals.
Then he looked up. "Roy, bleeding in both. Perforated eardrum 
on the left side. Contusions and swelling on the right." he reported. 
Then his hands slid under the collar to palpate the back of Jimmy's 
head. "There's no stiffness in his neck, or Battle's sign. Negative 
on CSF in any of this drainage." he said, looking at the reddish 
stains Jimmy's ears had left on the sand bags holding his head still.

Roy took another blood pressure. "It's up. 140/100."

Gage nodded and then he turned his attention back to communicating.
He pulled out his writing pad and a pen. With it, he wrote Jimmy
a few facts and asked a few questions while Roy slid the round 
glasses back onto his face so Jim could read the note being written
for him.

Jimmy gasped. "No, my neck and back don't hurt." he said,
his eyes growing wide. "I just can't hear myself talk. But my knee's
old news. I hurt it last week getting tossed off a horse. Are
my ears going to be all right? You see, I'm a musician and I
play and sing for a living."

Johnny wrote. ~I know. I recognized you when we first got here.
Just take it easy. Is it okay if we start an I.V. on you? The doctor 
we're gonna call may want one for you because you were knocked 
out for a while.~

"Yes. How long was I out?" fretted Jimmy.

~Around twenty minutes according to your boss.~

"Am I ok?" Mr. Colorado asked with alarm.

~You must have a very hard head. You're doing just fine, Mr.
Colorado. But we were wondering about that wheeze you've
got in your chest.~ Johnny wrote.

"I'm not used to the California smog yet. I've a dust allergy. 
I've only been in the state for a couple of days so I guess it
must be flaring up now."

~Do you have any other problems we should know about?~ 
Gage asked in words.

"I've hypoactive thyroid in the wintertime. I take a pill for it
when my energy's low." said Jim.

~Ok. How about pain. Are you in any?~

"My head, a little bit. Guess I cracked it when I flew backwards.
And both of my ears are stinging badly. Is that why I can't 
hear anything?"

~The explosion put a hole in your left ear drum and bruised
the right one. Once we get to Rampart General Hospital, a doctor
will examine you much closer to see exactly what is causing 
your deafness right now. And he'll get you out of this
contraption, too, after a couple of x-rays.~ Roy answered 
on the note pad after pointing to the longboard.

Jimmy sighed and closed his eyes. "All right. I hope they can
fix whatever's wrong soon. Music's my life... Annie, my wife,
will kill me if she finds out that I have to give any of that up."

Gage tapped his shoulder again to show him another question.
~Do you want someone at the hospital to get a hold of Annie 
once we get there?~

"Yes. Could you arrange that?"

Johnny nodded.

"I want to thank you for caring for me like this. I never thought
I'd see the day where I'd need a couple of Los Angeles 
County paramedics called out to look after me." Jimmy grinned.

~That's what we're here for, Mr. Colorado. Welcome to California.~ 
wrote Roy. 

Jimmy managed his first full smile and the racing audible heartbeat
finally slowed to near normal. "I'm ...a little tired.  I was up all night 
playing a gig with my new band. We were practicing for cutting a new 
record when I remembered that I had my first day of work to report to 
at the pier. I barely got here in time. Is it ok if I sleep a bit?"

Johnny and Roy both nodded that it was safe for him to doze.  

Their patient relaxed instantly, his face going slack with released 
strain. His breathing evened out and his slight gasping went away.

"He's a very busy man." Gage remarked to Roy.

"I guess so. Who is he again?"

"A famous country western singer. Remember the second
song the chief played for us? That's his."

"He still doesn't ring a bell." DeSoto said, looking at their patient's
face again.

"Roy, you need to get out of the house a little more. You're
sure missing a whole lot." Johnny frowned, cutting away
Jimmy's sleeve for his future I.V. "This young man here's 
gonna be as big as the Beatles someday. Mark my words.
I got his first album and his second one, too, I think." Gage
thought out loud. "Yeah, I played 'em both last month."

"I may be behind on the music scene, but little else escapes me."
DeSoto teased Johnny with a straight face. "You should loan
me those records sometime. Joanne and I like to try new things 
every once in a while."

"Deal. He's real good. You won't be disappointed."

Roy got on his HT. "Squad 51 to L.A. Can I get an estimated
time of arrival on our ambulance?"

##L.A., Squad 51. Mayfair Two reports an E.T.A. of four minutes
to your location.##

"Squad 51, L.A., 10-4. We'll be set. Our scene is safe."

##Squad 51.##

Roy got switched over to the phone on top of his shoulder. 
"Rampart this is Rescue 5-1. How do you read me?"

----------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Photo:  Roy in scba gear by squad on the biophone.

Photo:  Johnny looking down at someone.

Photo:  An eyeglassed man in a C-collar on oxygen 
             in a closeup close.

*********************************************************************
From :  Derrick <rescueman1962@yahoo.com> 
Sent :  Tuesday, January 17, 2006 12:46 AM 
Subject :  Where The Silence Is

There was a brief period of silence. "Rampart base, County 51. 
How do you read?" Roy repeated.

##Go ahead 51, this is Rampart. We read you loud and clear.# 
replied Dr. Early. 

"Rampart, we are at the scene of an explosion at an imports pier
involving powdered chemicals. We have only one previously 
borderline critical patient at this time. Our victim is now a conscious 
and oriented late twenties to early thirties male trauma patient. He 
was thrown back onto his head from the force of the blast and was 
initially unresponsive for twenty minutes prior to our arrival. At this 
time, his chief complaint is stinging pain in both ears. On a scale of 
one to ten he rates his ear pain as a nine.

"On examination, he has active bleeding in both ears with a 
possible perforated eardrum on the left ear and swelling in the 
right with profound early tinnitus and deafness. He has 
swelling in the right knee, now splinted, and facial contusions. 
But we have found negative findings of any stiffness in his neck, 
battle's sign, CSF fluid drainage, or signs of pain with his 
neck or back. There are no other injuries, past these, detected ..but  
we have him longboarded with a C-collar for his protection." 
said Roy. 

At Rampart, another doctor was with the carefully attentive 
Dr. Early. It was Dr. Brackett, listening in.

They heard Roy add more to his radio conversation "Vital signs 
were : BP 92/66, pulse 150 and regular, respirations twenty two 
with wheezes detected in all fields. We now have a BP of 140/100,
pulse is 110 and regular, respirations are twelve and normal. His
chest sounds like it's clearing. O2 saturation is at 98% on six liters of 
O2 via non-rebreather mask. On that right knee injury, it is from 
one week ago following a fall from a horse. He also expresses a history
of hypothyroidism. He is allergic to dust and takes thyroid medications 
for his condition only occasionally. We request an I.V. and affirmative, 
I will be sending you a strip. Over." 

Dr. Early replied. ##Squad 51, do we know what chemicals were 
involved?##

"Rampart, distilled powdered magnesium as far we can tell." Roy 
replied. 

##51, are any of you or is your patient contaminated?" Dr. Early queried. 

"That's negative." Roy answered as Mayfair two's electronic wail 
siren tone shattered the air. "Rampart, this will be Lead II." 
Roy said as he sent the EKG strip over the radio. 

------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
Joe Early and Kel read the strip as it came over the telemetry lines and 
they interpreted the rhythm to be mostly a normal sinus rhythm at a 
rate of one hundred ten without ectopi, with intermittent periods of sinus 
tachycardia. 

Kel thought. ::That's probably due to the fact that their patient's worried 
about his sudden loss of hearing. His vitals are too good for this reading 
to be anything else.:: Brackett saw that his mental conclusion matched 
Joe's by the expression on his face and they shared a look without 
needing to speak.

Dr. Early replied. "51, start an I.V. of Lactated Ringers TKO at 30 to 
60 cc/hr. Monitor for any changes and transport as soon as possible."

Roy answered.##10-4, Rampart. Copy an I.V. of Ringers at 30 to 60 
cc/hr, monitor patient vitals and transport. Our ambulance is here
and our E.T.A. is twelve minutes.## he added. 

"10-4, 51." Dr. Early said. 

---------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Roy had just gotten off the air with Rampart as Johnny double 
checked Jimmy Colorado's sensory, motor functions, and 
immobilization effectiveness to the long spineboard. He told 
Johnny. "Early wants Ringers, TKO."  Then he handed him the 
I.V . bag, microdrip tubing, and a 20 gauge needle. He knew 
the reason for the infusion of small fluid volume to their patient was
because of the fact that Jimmy might have sustained a head injury. 
It was his goal and Rampart's to prevent any swelling in his brain 
which could lead to disastrous consequences. That would change
though if their patient went into a poor breathing shock level on
the way in. Then Colorado would have to be rapid sequence
intubated and hyperventilated as an increased intracranial pressure 
preventive measure and a faster flow on the I.V. would be dialed up.

~Okay, Mr. Colorado.~ Johnny wrote . ~I am going to start an I.V. 
on you. You're going to feel a big pinch here in your arm for a 
couple of seconds. That's just me putting the needle inside the 
the inner elbow vein in your arm.~

Colorado froze, looking away from the needle. His trepidation
was plain on his face. Then came the sharp stick, ..but he didn't 
move. "Ow. That stung a little. But no worse than getting a shot at the 
doctor's though." Jimmy Colorado replied nervously, gasping 
as he released the breath he had been holding.

~Believe me, they do sting. I've had em', too.~ wrote Johnny 
Gage with a smile after he secured the I.V. catheter with tape to 
Jimmy Colorado's right arm while holding pressure on the 
lanced vein above it. Gage attached the I.V. bag and its drip 
set after he flushed out the tubing to the catheter. He adjusted 
the drip's rate after the fluid chamber was half filled to start the 
I.V.'s challenge.

Mr. Colorado's face expressed relief the ordeal was over. 
"I truly hate needles. Sorry for flinching."

Johnny then signaled Harold and Malcolm to move in with the 
stretcher. ~No problem. But I'm glad you felt that to tell you the 
truth. It means you're waking up well for us and have absolutely 
no signs of upper body paralysis to speak of.~~ he joked on
his notepad.  

In a test, Colorado wiggled his toes to reassure himself 
and the paramedics both that he was still fine the rest of the 
way down, too.

Gage smiled at that and looked up at the waiting ambulance 
attendants who quickly picked up the longboard after dropping 
the foot guard flat on their mattressed stretcher.  "Guys, he was 
in an explosion and got knocked off his feet. He has injuries to 
his ears, possibly the head, and a bum knee that he got last week. 
We got loose dressings to both ears, just that knee splint, and he's 
on light O2. He's pegged for a continuous read on the monitor 
and will remain fully immobilized. Note that we're going to Rampart 
and it's a rush. Be careful." he told them.

Chief McConnikee walked up to check on the progress of his favorite 
bar singer. He examined the loading scene and said to Roy as he 
was picking up the biocom and trauma kit to hand to him. "How's he 
doing?" 

"He seems to be doing better now. We're taking him to Rampart and 
we'll know a lot more later. But I think he's got nothing serious that 
can't be repaired or healed, most likely." said Roy. 

"Before you go, I want to warn you that as big as he is getting, 
there will be a ton of media at the hospital. Maintain your silence 
about meeting him, both of you, unless he personally says you can 
do otherwise." The Chief told them as his eyebrows furrowed with 
a straight face. "I'll be back at the station in a couple of hours to tell 
you how to report his run in the logs to fully protect his privacy to 
prevent someone in our internal departments from leaking his 
misfortune to the papers."  he added. 

"I'll drive the squad in." Johnny told his partner. "Get to know him,
Roy." he grinned. "Here's a once in a lifetime chance that I'm
just handing out to you. Remember that."

"See you there." Roy said unimpressed, as he and Malcolm 
stepped inside the ambulance to transport Jimmy Colorado to 
the hospital. 

Vince Howard arrived at Roy and Johnny's location and gave the 
ambulance the all clear, double slap signal as the ambulance 
pulled away with red lights and siren towards Rampart with the 
squad leading the way.  

McConnikee afforded one more look of concern for their 
young, rising, from out of state singer. Then he put his white helmet 
back on and strode back to work on the long hazmat cleanup 
ahead with engine 51 and the other units covering the incident.

------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
Their Mayfair's arrival at Rampart took a couple minutes longer 
than expected because of the strong head winds and low visibility 
from blowing dust that slowed down the squad and ambulance's speed
as they travelled. They also had a couple of unexpected obstacles to 
overcome, like a windblown trash can and a road strewn cord of firewood 
that some motorist had lost unintentionally that had blocked lanes of traffic. 

However, Roy's celebrity patient remained stable throughout transport 
and there were no unforeseen events. 

When they arrived at Rampart, the emergency entrance looked like a 
used car lot with three squads and four ambulances parked there. 

::It looks like business is still picking up.:: thought Roy. ::I wonder how
busy it is now.::

----------------------------------------------------------------------------

Photos:  None. 

***************************************************
From: "Derrick" <rescueman1962@yahoo.com> 
Date: Wed Jan 18, 2006  1:33 am 
Subject: About Jimmy   


Harold, who was driving the ambulance, looked in the Emergency
entrance lot, wondering where to park so no passers by would be
gawking to see who was being brought in. A Schaefer Ambulance EMT
saw the Mayfair's situation and she hinted to Harold that she was
moving her van ambulance to the side lot so he could get in with
Jimmy and Roy.

Dr. Early was standing in the doorway with Kel Brackett to greet his
patient. The ambulance doors came open as Roy was writing 
his last note to Jimmy. ~Well Jimmy, here we are at Rampart 
Hospital, the best in the county. The doctors will take good care 
of you here. It was nice meeting you. Come see us at the station 
when you get better.~ he said, pointing to the number on his 
bench parked helmet.

Jimmy said, with a grin. "You can count on that."

As Jimmy was unloaded by Harold and Malcolm out of the ambulance,
Joe directed them. "Room Two. Is this our explosion victim?" he asked
the attendants. 

"Yes, doc." said Roy, appearing out of the dark interior of
the rig. He got out and went into the doors, following his patient.

Dr. Brackett curiously followed behind him.

"Those face wounds look ugly, but there still is no change in the 
degree of his tinnitus and deafness. He remained stable and alert 
throughout transport. I also got something to tell you privately when 
we get inside." Roy said to both of them.

The sextet entered the treatment room that was used for lesser injured
trauma patients as a backup to the main trauma room. Rampart
was experimenting with a new trauma center concept, an idea 
whole-heartedly embraced by all three of her main ER doctors.

Jimmy was transferred off the ambulance gurney onto a hospital one.
Kel looked at Jimmy again, then he turned to Joe and said. "Joe, 
do you know who this is? It's Jimmy Colorado."

"I was about to tell you the same thing, Kel." quoted Joe.

Joe went to a drawer and pulled out a ruled style notebook. 
Reaching into his doc's coat pocket, he pulled out his pen
and wrote in capital and small printed letters. ~Mr. Colorado,
can you tell me what happened?~ he began, getting an 
awareness level check in.

"I was starting my day job at the pier, when boom,  there was an
explosion. The next thing I knew, I couldn't hear anything after the 
paramedics woke me up. My ears were hurting and ringing 
something terrible when I found I could talk again." Jim said.

~Do they still feel that way?~Joe asked in writing.

Jimmy's face wrinkled as he grasped how he was feeling and he said, 
"The quiet's about the same, but some of the pain has gone away a 
little bit."

Then, a stunned Dixie McCall walked in and gasped when she saw Jimmy
Colorado lying on the gurney. Despite of who he was, she asked. 
"Jimm--? What happened?"

Joe Early filled her in. 
"There was an explosion at the pier. He got blown off his feet and it 
looks like it injured both of his ears. He can't hear a word we're saying, 
but he can talk to us.  I'm going to take a look at his head, back and 
neck in detail, even though there are no acute signs of injury there."

A concerned Dixie grabbed a stethoscope and a BP cuff and took
Jimmy's vitals. "BP's 140/90, pulse's 100 regular,...respirations are 
twenty and normal." she said afterwards.

Roy was busy with the new trauma room's pulse oximeter machine
and a thermometer. "O2 sat is still 98%, .. and his temperature's 
98.7 degrees F." he said.

Kel did a sensory/motor assessment on Jimmy and he ran the list
of what he found through his head. ::Good capillary refill, normal 
limb color and temperature to the extremities, all with purposeful
movement.:: The last test he said out loud. "Negative on Babinski's. 
What next, Joe?" he asked Early, who was in charge of Colorado's 
case.

"I examined his eyes already, Kel. His pupils appear to be equal, round,
reactive and conjugate. Skin temperature's still normal and dry to the touch.
Let's shift him to our monitor so Roy can have his back. Dix, call Radiology. 
I want a full skull series CT scan with special attention given to both his middle
and inner ears.  Also see if they can get me an anterior and lateral view 
of that knee."

Brackett spoke up. "Also, Dix, call the lab to set up a spinal tap, I want to be
sure this deafness isn't being caused by a slow subdural or epidural bleed.
Draw blood for a full count CBC, platelets, and hemoglobin. Call Dr. Jones 
and have him set up for an EENT consult please, stat, after he views all his
slides and images." Kel ordered.

"I got it." Dix replied as she finished marking the tests on Jimmy's chart.
Then she busied herself dialing out on the treatment room's phone.
"O'Brien's on today for ears, nose and throat."

"Do you two have a minute?" Roy asked both doctors.

"What is it, Roy?" Dr. Brackett asked, looking up from the dressings
he was removing from both of Jimmy's ears.

Roy led Dr. Brackett into a corner in the treatment room and
said. "Bill Mc Connikee says that there will probably be a media 
circus very soon, all over this place, wanting to know something about 
our patient's condition. The chief wants us all to keep a tight lid on it for the 
sake of privacy because of Jimmy apparently being as big as a star 
as he is. Can you arrange that?"

"Roy, you know you've got my word to keep everything confidential. 
Did you hear that, Joe?" Kel asked Early, hooking a thumb at Roy.

"Absolutely." Joe Early replied.

"And I'll hear, see and speak no evil, too." Dix replied as she got off the
phone. 

"I'll be sure to tell Mike Morton about the press and staff gag order 
which I guess by now has already been forwarded to our ER desk directly 
from Fire Chief Houts. Mike'll probably let Dr. O'Brien know the same 
order upstairs as soon as he gets it." Joe said while he hooked Jimmy 
up to the monitor so a suddenly treatment room door appearing Johnny 
could retrieve the squad's.

"Where have you been? Did the wind take you away like Dorothy to
Oz?" Roy chuckled at his partner.

Johnny smiled at Roy as the hospital attendants came to transfer 
Jimmy to the brand new, experimental CT scanner lab down the
hallway. Being clever, Gage tapped Jimmy's shoulder in warning
with a wink, then he flipped Jimmy's blanket half over his face and 
the oxygen mask to help better conceal his identity from uninvolved 
hospital staff and from the public wandering the halls around the 
ER waiting room. "I, partner, was having a meaningful conversation 
with a beeeauutiful chick outside who's an EMT with Schaeffer's. 
She said she likes me. And she told me she'd like to get into the 
paramedic program one of these days. And....we have a date for 
next Saturday night!" he said happily.

"Oh? What's her name?" Roy asked.

"I've memorized it already. Matilda Emily Lynn Volskeld. The
nurses call her Mel for short and they say she's a tomboy with a mouth 
like a sailor."  said Johnny. "I think I'm in love...."

"You go for that type? I thought you like to go for the brainy,
sophisticated, feminine kind of girl. Like that air hostess we met
coming home from that paramedic convention or that newspaper 
journalist writing about firefighters from last year."

"Or like Valerie?" Johnny reminded him sourly of their past 
hit and run victim, the mother of three, that they had responded 
to when she had been struck by a motorist right in front of their squad's 
bumper. "Heh. I've broadened my horizons a bit since then."

"I remember befriending a young lady like that." replied Dix 
as she got into the conversation, reflecting on her younger years 
when she was actively dating. "She used to tell m--"
A page went out for Dixie to report to the CT room, and she smiled. 
"I'm needed to help with Colorado's scans apparently..." 
     As she left the room with Roy and Johnny, she finished 
her previous line of thought, "Back then, fellas, I was sweet and
treated people with the utmost respect and dignity." she said 
batting her long elegant eyelashes. "But after hanging out with 
Maude for a while, she showed me the real value of things whenever 
I needed to get angry to speed things up at work..." She slipped into 
a mock, but convincing Brackett like roar. "They didn't mess with me then 
afterwards. And please don't mess with me now!" she said in clear 
birdline earshot of a curious knot of floor nurses who were tightly whispering 
about whom they thought they just saw, at the desk outside the CT 
scanning room. "This place has been an insane asylum all day, 
DATGUMMIT!" Dixie then slammed her charts on the nurse's station 
desktop to scatter them.

The gossiping nurses broke apart and fled before they learned anything
concrete about who the man was in the CT room.

Roy and Johnny looked at McCall in amusement and she
winked secretly back at them. Then they all sighed at each other, 
knowing that the day's stresses weren't over yet for her. :: Or for
us either.:: thought DeSoto. The two paramedics shifted the weight 
of the gear in their hands so they could both wave a quick bye 
for now to her.

"Well, let's get outta here, Johnny. Let's head back to the station. The
rest of the guys should be back in an hour if all this the wind cooperates." 
said Roy. "A nap sounds real good. Chet had the right idea about all 
of us getting some sleep earlier at lunch time."

"Yeah, I'm even more tired now." Johnny said, yawning.

The bright afternoon daylight made them squint as they neared
the ambulance doors.

"Whoa! Look at the wind out here." Johnny said as he and Roy walked 
outside the short distance to the squad. "It must be blowing sixty five
miles per hour!"

"I guess so. Let's get in here in a hurry." Roy said after horsewhistling
to get his weather gaping partner to pay attention to him. He tossed 
Gage the ignition keys so he'd take the hint to take over driving the 
squad for him. "My hair's being blown all over my head and it's 
really bugging me." Roy replied.

"Put your helmet back on your head." Johnny teased.

"It's too late for that now." DeSoto grumbled.

The paramedics hastily put their gear back inside the squad and
entered the cab. Johnny, as usual, had picked up the radio mic to report 
themselves back into service when he noticed that the wind was
shifting the squad a little as stiff gusts blew by it. "Man, do you 
feel that?" he asked Roy as he started the squad up.

"Feel what?" asked a freely dozing, hand and elbow face
propped Roy.

"The wind. It's rocking the squad!" said Johnny.

"Big deal. It will take a tsunami to tip this thing over." said Roy.

"You're right about that." said Johnny. Gage pressed the button 
on the mic and said. "L.A., Squad 51's available."

##Squad 51, L.A. clear. KMA 896. ## replied Sam Lanier on
the other end of the channel.

"So tell me, Romeo. What does this dreamy new date 
Mel look like?" Roy asked Johnny as they pulled onto the 
boulevard.

"Well, she's about five foot five. She has long shiny brown hair
almost down to her waist. Not to skinny, but not too fat. Just how I
like 'em. She's been working for Schaffer's only for a year she says
and her old man's a captain with the fire department in Daley City." 
Johnny said, gripping the steering wheel.

"They've got a good department up there." Roy said. "Let's see
if you'll hit the jackpot with her this time and fare better than you
did with single mom Valerie."

"As a matter of fact, Jimmy Colorado is supposed to be playing a
gig next weekend at the Beer-A-Bye-Bye uptown and I plan on 
taking her there. I'm buying the tickets as soon as I get home." Gage 
said. "You and Joanne can come along, too, if you like. We can
call it a double date."

"You know, Junior. You amaze me. I'm not much into music, but after
I got to know Jimmy a little bit on the way to Rampart, he's
made me a real fan. He's got something about him that's ..real honest
and natural. Know what I mean? And it most likely shows in his songs,
too, if the one I heard at the station is any kind of indicator." Roy replied. 
"But I doubt if he'll heal up in time enough for that bar performance of
yours. He may have to cancel that one and schedule it for a later date."

Johnny, feeling let down said.  "Oh. You're right, pal. It might take 
a while for his ears to heal up enough for all his hearing to come 
back by then, if it ever does. But you never know." Gage said with a
smile. "Surgery's wonderful these days."

--------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Meanwhile at Rampart, Jimmy's CT scans came back to Joe Early.
He and Dr. Brackett were looking them over with Dr. Nathan Jones
and the ear doc, O'Brien, in the CT viewing room.

"Well , what do you see, Joe?" Kel asked.

"A little deviation to the cochlea here. The left eardrum is perforated
all right. But the right ear is appearing just as soft tissue trauma. Oh, and
there are no abnormalities in the head and neck area. That knee will 
just need an Ace bandage and a cortizone shot. He's lucky."  Dr. Early.

"What do you think, Nate? Steve?" Kel asked. 

"Well, needing surgery's out of the question. The hole's too clean.
But there's still going to be a little bleeding over the next day or two 
as his ears begin to heal, but it's nothing that I'm concerned about.
The tinnitus and deafness are probably just temporary effects from 
the fluid buildup that came as a response to the explosion's concussion 
wave." said the specialist, O'Brien.
 
"So,... what I'm going to do is just keep him here until maybe later on 
tomorrow night. I'll start him right away on antibiotics and pain reducing 
ear drops. Tobradex'll do. He should start hearing things by tonight 
after those I.V. diuretics drain more out of his middle ears. My final 
diagnosis? He'll heal up good as new within the next four to six weeks." 
Dr. Jones said, too.

"Well, let's go tell Jimmy the good news." Joe Early said. "Dixie's 
with him now managing his crowd control." he quipped.

"A crowd? Already? That was fast." Kel remarked.

"News travels fast when you're popular I guess." said Early.

-----------------------------------------------------------------------------

Photos:  None. 
 

***************************************************
From: "Cory Anda" <andacory@hotmail.com> 
Date: Thu Jan 19, 2006  9:01 am 
Subject: For the Love of Music.. 


Dixie McCall entered the holding room next to the CT scanning
suite. The lights were subdued, but her eyes didn't miss the
sight of Station 51's backboard leaning against the wall. 
::I'll take that out with me when I leave in a few minutes.:: 
she decided mentally.

Jimmy Colorado, was dozing on a head raised, pillowless
gurney in the center of the room. He was no longer wearing oxygen
but another I.V. now hung next to the one Johnny Gage had given
him. Walking quietly across the fawn carpetting, Dixie checked its 
flow rate against the notation Dr. O'Brien had marked on his orders 
page. ::Diuretics. Hmm.:: thought Dixie. ::That probably means that 
the spinal tap they did in here after all the scans came back negative 
on blood from a head injury. Well, that's very good news, at least, 
...so far.::

She saw that the doctors hadn't yet visited Colorado with their 
findings on his ER exam or CT tests yet. She was about to leave
him to sleep more quietly when she saw a hastily scrawled notation 
from Johnny Gage on the run sheet to locate someone named Annie, 
Jimmy's wife, to let her know about his accident. 

Sighing, Dixie sat down on a stool next to Jim and gently woke him
by pulling his blankets, which had tumbled down below his waist, back
up to his shoulders.

Jim's eyes opened, but the fatigue she had been expecting, wasn't there
in the slightest. His face opened up in a bright smile. He said, "I remember
you. You came into the room in Emergency when all the doctors were
checking me over to see how I was doing. Hi, I'm Jim."  and he held
out his I.V.less hand.

Dixie took his and shook it. Then she wrote on a spare notes page.
~Hi, I'm Dixie, the head nurse around here. How are you feeling now?~

"Oh. I'm a little sore still. But the breathing treatment I received and
the ice packs for my knee are helping. The doctors told me they 
have me propped up so I won't get a headache from that back needle 
test they did on me a bit ago."

~That was a spinal tap, Mr. Colorado, and it's used to rule in or out
internal head injuries and illnesses.~ she wrote to him.

"So, how did I do?" Jimmy asked.

~I'd say pretty good. See this?~ she wrote, pointing to the second I.V.
hanging piggybacked alongside his first one.

Jim nodded.

~That is giving you a medication that'll get rid of all the excess fluid in
your circulatory system in about a half an hour. Seeing one of these
ordered by your assigned ENT, Dr. O'Brien, is a good sign. He only drains
middle ears like this when surgery's not indicated.~

"So, does that mean that I'm going to get my hearing back, Miss...McCall?" 
he asked, squinting to read her nametag without his glasses.

Dixie was honest. ~I can't say for sure, Jimmy.  I'm not one of your doctors.~
she scribbled. ~But do give me your wife's telephone number. Then we can 
call Annie together to let her know what's happening.~

"Right now?"

~Right now, if you'd like.~

"Oh, yes, please. She's probably worried sick if any of this has gotten on the 
news." he said with an anxious frown, writing down the number for her on
a paper towel using the pen she had with her.

~Nothing has, Jim. You and your records are being isolated from everybody
except those directly involved in your recovery. You'll see myself, an orderly
or two who are guaranteed to not wag their tongues, and only your four 
doctors from this point on until you're discharged. And that's it. I'm telling
you the truth that no reporters, at all, have been knocking on your door.~ 
she wrote.

"How'd you arrange that?"

~Let's just say I learned a few things from a TV soap doctor last year about
hiding folks when they desperately need to be hidden for the good of their
health.~

Jim laughed. "I appreciate what all you folks are doing for me. I'm not a star.
I don't think I care to actually become one to tell you the truth. All I know is that 
I want to share the music that's inside of me to those who'll listen. And if
a record or two will help pay the bills for me, my wife and for my baby daughter, 
so much the better."

Dixie smiled, and picked up the phone. ~Shall we call your family now? I'll 
be your relay. You just tell me what to say so she knows I'm really legit, o.k.?~

Jimmy nodded.

A few minutes later, the phone call was completed and Jim relaxed for the first
time since he was injured. Absently, he began humming an unthinking melody
while Dixie took another set of vital signs for his progress chart. Dixie began
smiling. Then she handed him the writing sheet. ~That's lovely. Is that one of
the songs you play regularly?~

Jimmy blushed. "No. I haven't ever sung it out loud to anyone yet. I wrote it 
thinking about Annie, last week, in about ten minutes, while on a ski lift." he admitted 
with an amused grin. "I think I can still sing a bit of it in spite of being deafened like this. 
My pitch's usually pretty good. This is about how it goes, Dixie." he said. 
And then he softly filled the room with a bright, love filled, very softly sung ballad 
of incredible beauty.....
"You fill up my senses like a night in the forest.
Like a mountain in spring-time
like a walk in the rain
like a storm in the desert
like a sleepy blue ocean
You fill up my senses, come fill me again.

Come let me love you, let me give my life to you
Let me drown in your laughter, let me die in your arms.
Let me lay down beside you, let me always be with you.
Come let me love you, come love me again......
 
...There. And that's all of it." he shrugged. "It's so different from anything else 
that's ever come to me lyrics wise. I honestly don't know how my manager will 
feel about it when I tell him that I came up with it in just a couple of minutes."

Dixie opened her eyes and fiercely started to write. 
~Mr. Colorado. If you don't produce that song, you will be losing a very fine 
chance to teach others about one of the truest lessons in life : how precious 
it is to love someone else without condition.~

"You really think so?" Jimmy asked, surprised.

~Look at the tears filling my eyes, Mr. Colorado. And you did that without
being anywhere near your guitar. Any song worth its salt will move
people beyond words without a single solitary note of accompaniment
playing along with it. Trust me on that one.~

Jim looked at her face for a long, delving, soul searching moment. 
Then he handed her a kleenix from the box on his patient table.
"Wow. That's sound enough endorsement for me, Miss McCall. So,
as soon as I'm better, I promise, I'll set up a recording session and get 
it down on tape. For the last thing I want to do is disappoint a busy nurse 
in her own hospital." he grinned.

Dixie laughed warmly and dried her eyes just a few seconds before the door
opened to admit Joe Early, Kel Brackett and the two specialists coming
to deliver their glowing prognoses.

----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- 

Photo:   Dixie, smiling.

Photo:  A blonde, page style haired man in 
             round glasses, laughing.


**************************************************
From :  Roxy Dee <laterrapincabesa@yahoo.com> 
Sent :  Friday, January 20, 2006 4:22 PM 
Subject :  On The Cliff Tops~~ 


It was two days later at the station.

The gang was feasting on Marco's spaghetti with gusto
and all were freshly showered and in new uniforms following
a routine abandoned house fire.

Roy and Johnny were talking to themselves, being vague on
details. DeSoto raised his eyebrows while he gulped down
a large swallow of milk. "Was there any word on him yet
from her?"

"Yeah." answered Johnny. "Dixie says he's no longer in 
the hospital. He got out yesterday. But she was tight lipped
about any further news on him."

"She would have to be. Its those privacy laws, remember?" 
Roy sighed. "If it were that easy for paramedics to get information 
about a previous patient, lawyers everywhere would be suing us 
left, right and center for unlawful practice."

Cap immediately knew who it was they were talking about. He
framed a silent "shhh" to hush them.

"Pass me the Caesar's dressing, please." said Chet, stuffing
his mouth full of french bread and butter.

"Look at that everybody. Chet's hungry enough to use a full 
set of manners at the table." quipped Stoker. "Record that
for posterity, folks. I can't remember the last time he asked
before grabbing."

"So says the man who usually doesn't talk much, with his mouth full." 
Kelly grumbled, wiping his with a napkin.

Cap's comment, topped them all, only barely tempered with
a smile. "Shut up and eat, you twits, before we get another--"

RiinNNNggg!  rang the phone.

"I'll get it.." said Gage, shoving away his empty plate with
a belch.  "L.A. County fire department. This is Fireman John
Gage." A few seconds later, he nearly dropped the phone.
"Oh, uh.. hi there Mr. Colorado. Uh, wow. You're finally talking
to me." he immediately bit his lip. "I....didn't exactly mean it
the way it sounded. Heh. I meant it the other way meaning that
I'm ....very happy you got your full hearing back."

Cap spun in his chair with a scrutinizing glare at Johnny 
and he narrowed his eyes curiously at the name he had heard.

Gage said, "Uh huh.." whipping out his notepad from his back
pants pocket. Furiously, he began to scribble down some 
information. "Uh...huh." he punctuated.

Roy piped up. "Johnny?"

Gage whirled with a hasty silencing gesture and he gripped the
phone receiver even tighter against his head while plugging the
other ear. "Sure.. I have a couple of my own. Are you sure you
won't mind my bringing two, one each for Roy and myself?"
There was a pause. Then Johnny smiled hugely. "Sure. Tomorrow
morning would be fine. We both get off at nine tonight. Ok, 
I'm glad you're on your feet and doing so well. Roy and I were worried
about ya. Yeah? Ok. Thank you. Thank you.. Bye.." and he clicked
the phone down into its wall cradle with a bang.
Then he collapsed on the wall in a sag of disbelief and celebration.
"Ooo, Roy. Do you know you that was?!"

"You kinda told us." Hank snapped. "Should you have told us?"

"Yes. He said I could." said Johnny. Then he scrambled over to his
partner,  waving his paramedic note pad in the air. "So our official
gag's lifted as of right now."

Cap's serious peg didn't let up.

Gage shrugged. "If you don't believe me, run a trace with the
phone company and listen to the conversation yourself, Cap.
I wouldn't lie about a thing like that. I mean, after all, who do 
you take me for?"

"A total nutcake." Chet chuckled.

"Very funny, Chet. And it's too bad you're not invited."

"Invited to what?" Marco asked.

Hank told them briefly about their pier explosion victim of the other day.

"No kidding?" Lopez said. "You met HIM? My mom really likes his music.
She cranks him up on the radio stations every chance she gets."

Cap's mouth fell into firm lines. "What exactly did he say? If this is about
showing gratitude for helping him out, you know where the department stands
on that one."

Gage's happy smile died away. "Well, Cap. I uh, he didn't exactly use...words
to that effect.." he laughed weakly. "All he asked was whether or not I knew
anyone who could show him how to ride a horse on the beach."

"You didn't..." Roy stared, flabbergasted.

"Well,... why not?" Johnny said unapologetically. "Naturally, 
I said that I could help with that. I do own a few of them."

"And what about that part about having one enough for me as well?"

Gage fell silent, feeling the weight of Cap's unwavering stare and Roy's ire
most acutely. "I was doing you a favor, Roy. Didn't you say you had become
an instant fan of his to me? I thought you might enjoy actually talking with him,
now that we can."

"I'm not a cowboy." Roy said, not looking away.

Hank started laughing hugely and broke off his captain's scowl. "Ok, I understand
things a little better now. And that's not receiving a gift for services rendered. 
I'd say that's unofficial professional advisement on another topic. Have fun, Roy, 
and don't forget to bring a pillow along with your first aid kit for when you fall off."

--------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
Roy and Johnny pulled up in the rover that was hauling the double horse
trailer containing two of Johnny's most trusted mustangs. Johnny put the
truck into park and said, "This must be it. The sign back there said Starwood
on Aspen. Now there's nothing to horseback riding at all. All you gotta do
is relax a bit in the saddle and let the horse do all the work."

"Easier said than done. A horse isn't a bicycle. Which is about all I'm 
able to handle riding wise. I never said I was a country boy."

"Well, Jimmy does on the radio. All the time."

"Huh?"

"Never mind. Don't be such a cynic. You'll have fun. Just think, if you fall 
off, you'll have me around to care for you. We got the jump bag in the back, 
remember? And a CB radio. I also got ropes. Jimmy says he wants to
show us an eagle nest he's discovered that he thinks no one else knows about.
And Bess will be able to handle you. She takes the city kids' mane tugging
real fine and she doesn't even blink at saddle tippy seating."

"It's not the horse I'm worried about." Roy sighed. Then he changed the subject.
"What a name for a ranch. Sounds like a penthouse party event." said Roy.
"Does he own all this?"

"Nah, he's just renting a couple of stalls here. He said he leased his horse
at this coastal ranch because it and its name reminded him of the 
mountains back home where he's building a house in Aspen, CO. Here."
said Johnny, handing Roy his cream colored five gallon hat that he once
wore in Santa Rosa County. "I took the liberty of grabbing that out of your
locker when we left the station last night. Shall we unload the horses next?
Jimmy said he'll be saddling his appaloosa in the driftwood corral located
nearest to the beach."

"You lead Bess. She's bound to .... nip at my hair again."

"Can you blame her? It IS the color of straw.." Johnny smiled. "She's probably
hungry from the trip."

-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

There was no mistaking Jimmy when they found him. He was wearing khaki 
colored pants with a loose white dress shirt etched with an ivy vine design.
His head was bare to the ocean breezes.

Roy felt conspicuous in his hat. He didn't feel as comfortable in it as Johnny
seemed to be in his black one. But then he relaxed when he saw that Colorado
wore boots just like they were wearing to ward off the wet. Johnny tied
off both Bess and his horse, Eagle to the tangles of driftwood that
made up the rustic fence.

"Hello there fellas! Glad you could make it out here today." greeted 
Jimmy. "I didn't think I'd get lucky enough to find real horsemen smack dab
in the middle of Los Angeles. I hope your captain doesn't mind that I'm 
borrowing you two for this. He might get the wrong idea about my intentions."
said Colorado.

"No.. no. no.. We straightened him out about that right from the start when
you called." Johnny grinned. "It's a real pleasure to actually be able to
get through introductions this time. I'm Johnny Gage, and this is Roy DeSoto,
that other man you met that day who was on the hospital phone." he kidded.
Then they offered Jim each their firm hand shakes in genuine heartfelt welcome. 

Jimmy sighed. "I'm glad to finally be sociable like a man ought to be. 
I had a rough day with a headache yesterday but then both my ears 
decided to come back right at noon, just shortly before I called your 
work place to ask about where to find some horsemen." said Colorado.
"I just couldn't wait to start trying to figure out my little horse problem 
again."

"Oh?" said Johnny. "He seems trained enough and he's real calm here, even 
with us being on his offside like this." Gage remarked with a practiced eye 
for the black and white rear spotted appaloosa standing before them. 

"Oh, I wasn't referring to Stud Spider here. He belongs to James Brolin,
a good friend of mine. I meant my problem of being a little apprehensive
about getting him to take on moving waves. I keep thinking he'll take
a tumble or something and pitch me right off. I tried that with him at the lake
back home and that's how I wrenched the heck out of that knee you guys 
found on me earlier last week at the pier."

"How is it now?" Roy asked, pointing to his right leg, in professional
curiosity.

"I have a brace on it. Just a light one. And an ace wrap. I've been
cleared to ride as long as I don't overdo it." admitted Jimmy.

"It's a piece of cake, Jimmy. All you have to do is point his head
at the water and relax his neck reins a bit. His natural instinct to
wanna roll in the water will get him playful and then he should start
listening to you real easy." said Gage, stroking the singer's glistening
gelding's face.

"I sure hope so. Roy, you ride much?" asked Colorado.

"I know how to drive a rescue squad. Does that count?" he laughed ruefully.

"It sure did for me the other day. Thanks, you two, for then and now."

"No problem. Shall we take that spin on the beach? Bess and Eagle are all
set to go and I've already checked their hooves out. They're stone free."
said Johnny.

Jimmy nodded.

The three took to their horses. Roy, a little bit more slowly. But he managed.

They spent a wonderful half hour, rushing their horses through the sea foam
and through the ocean shallows, casting up spray that liberally coated
everyone's slacks up to the knees.

They were starting to cool down their mounts in the sharp breeze coming
in from the water by leading them from their reins when a ranch hand they
didn't know rushed up to them on a horse of his own. 

"Jimmy! Jimmy! It's Ike. He's just radioed from his pickup half way up in the 
hills. He says he's spotted a hiker down from a fall up there. Looks like he 
was trying to light a camp fire when the wind took hold of it and fanned it up. 
Cougar Rock's ledge's burning and we think that he had to jump to avoid 
getting fried by the flames."

"What?" Gage startled. 

The ranch worker went on, panicking. "I'm glad I found you. I've been trying 
to find some of the ranch hands to ride up there with me to go help him out."

Roy said, "Can we help? We're paramedics from the Los Angeles County
fire department and we've climbing gear and first aid equipment 
with us."

"Really?" sputtered the man. "Oh, man. Just when we need ya. Let's
go." he said, starting to wheel his horse's head about.

Johnny shouted. "Wait a minute. Let's go to my rover first. We'll
notify our dispatcher and get a full rescue response started out here."
he said, getting into his own saddle. 

Jimmy and Roy followed suit and soon, they were on their way.
 
-----------------------------------------------------------------------

Photo:  Johnny riding a horse.

Photo:  A blonde man riding a horse at the beach.

Photo: Roy DeSoto in a cowboy hat

Photo: Johnny in streetclothes with horses in the background.

Photo:  The landrover with Roy and Johnny in it.

Photo: A hiker down on a cliff face.

Photo:  A raging new brush fire in dry scrub land.

********************************************************
Date: Fri, 27 Jan 2006 06:26:45 +0000 (GMT) 
From: "Clairissa Fox" <canaryyello01@yahoo.co.uk>   
Subject:  Sticky Business 

A shot fired in distress rang out clearly over the roar of the wind.

"Someone else's noticed the fire or the hiker. He might not be alone." 
DeSoto said, pulling up to listen more closely.

"Let's just get there before we start worrying about someone else 
doing something stupid." shouted Gage, driving his gray on a little faster.

 It wasn't five minutes later when the hard blowing horses finally
reached the top of the wide tableland billowing fresh brush smoke.

Jimmy dismounted soon after the ranch hand did. "Where's this
hiker, Lou? I don't see him at all."

"Right there!" said the older man. "Just under that pine tree on
the flat to the right of the cliff face." he said pointed.

"All right. We got him." said Johnny, grabbing two coils of hundred
foot rope. "Roy, what do you think? Just the basic equipment?"

"We're gonna have to. That fire building up may not give us time for
anything else except dragging him out of the fire's way." answered 
DeSoto.

Colorado's cool was shaken. "Is it really that bad of a burn starting up?
I'm familiar with ones back home. Usually they take a half an hour or so
before working into anything serious." 

"You're overlooking a crucial factor, Jim. There's about a hundred times 
less water present in the soil and foliage here in California than back near 
your home in Aspen. Fires always get bad when they get going in thick brush 
like this. And they get bad fast. So do us a favor; man our anchor line and 
don't try to follow us. If we need something from the horses, we'll signal ya for it." 
he told the quietly worried singer and the frantic ranch hand.

"All right. I'll tie the horses by the road so the fire stations can easily
spot us when they come." said Jimmy. "I'll keep an eye on him, too. He
looks a bit anxious to just dive right on in with you." Colorado said, casting 
his head at the ansy rancher shouting up at the distant prone hiker.

"Fair enough." Gage said, sighting along the ridge face for the best, safest 
way up the cliff that wasn't downwind of the gnawing flames building in the grass
niched in its crevasses. 

They left the others behind on the horse trail, quickly jogging for the vertical 
cliff face Lou had shown them. Soon, they rounded a bend and the accident 
slope became visible. Johnny sighed in frustration."Our victim's a city slicker 
all right. He's hardly tan and there are no rocks above him around the fire pit 
he tried to light up. Looks like he tried to use charcoal starter in spite of the 
warning signs about all this breezy weather. I can see the can lying at his feet 
from here. It's still leaking."

"Is he moving?" Roy asked.

"No. And it's too windy to tell if he's still breathing or not."

"Let's just hope none of that fuel got on his clothing when he fell. If a
spark from one of those burning shrubs gets a chance to land on him..."

"Don't even think it, Roy. I'm scared enough as it is going into all this smoke 
without knowing where the head of the fire's at." Johnny frowned.

Soon, the two paramedics began to climb the rocks, foot by careful foot. 
Johnny led the way, being the nimbler of the two and every so often, he 
tied off on a snug tree that wasn't dead to be a backup rope support for 
the medical pack equipped Roy. 

The ledge was even narrower and more angled than what they had
initially feared. Many times, the two firemen slipped, sending rocks and 
small dirtfalls cascading to the trail floor down below. Only the ropes kept 
them on their hand and foot holds.

"Gimme more slack!" DeSoto called out as he skirted around a 
smouldering pine sapling. He started coughing as acrid smoke
began to grow thicker. "I'm * cough* almost over to him!"

"How far?" shouted Gage, still out of sight around a fold in the boulders.

"About twenty five feet." Roy yelled back. "He's alive. His legs are 
trembling. Looks like fracture spasming and contractures."

"I'll be right there in a minute. I'm tying you off so I can send down a line 
to the others for the rest of our gear."  

Roy methodically negotiated the bare rock face on toes and fingertips
until he found good purchase. Then he reached over to the shivering 
man's neck for a pulse quality check.

---------------------------------------------------------------------

Photo:  Johnny climbing a rock face in street clothes.

Photo: Roy and Johnny climbing in homemade gear.

Photo:  A man in a cowboy hat, sitting in grass, looking up.

Photo:  A brush fire burning through shrubs.

**************************************************
From: "patti keiper" <pattik1@hotmail.com> 
Date: Fri Jan 27, 2006  2:46 pm 
Subject: Catch 22... 

"How's he doing?" Gage asked, crouching by Roy's 
side. He started unstrapping the knapsack full of medical
supplies from his partner's back without asking.

Roy leaned forward and dug out some loose dirt and
pebbles out of the unconscious man's mouth with a few fingers.
"He's shocky. Breathing for now although how long he'll be able
to keep that up once the air gets worse up here.." Roy said, blinking
the stinging smoke out of his eyes.  "I turned him onto his side. 
He seems clear neck and spine wise. He took the impact to both feet 
when he landed. See the blood smears?  Looks like he struggled 
then stopped moving when he realized both his legs were broken."

Johnny knelt down and got out his clothes shears from his
hip holster. "Good thing for him he's passed out." he said quickly
cutting away the man's blood soaked jeans. "This lower bone shaft's 
open and comminuted right at the knee. The other leg's been spiralled. 
That break's closed. It's most likely his femur. It's angulated. 
But I've got a good femoral pulse with this."

"Do you have circulation in the first leg anywhere below that knee?"
Roy said, feeling along the man's upper body for other soft spots
while he checked also for telltale skin tears and bleeding.

"No. His foot's dark. And it's getting more than just a little cold." Johnny 
said grimly, peeling off a tarp that had wrapped their backpack's frame. 
He used it to cover up the man snuggly to start preserving his body 
temperature.

Roy tried moving the pulseless leg into better alignment.
"Feel anything now?"

Johnny shook his head after feeling at artery points on top of
the foot, around the ankle and behind the shattered knee. "Nothing.
At least, an artery's not torn. He isn't hemorrhaging badly from 
anywhere down here through these bone lacerations. I don't 
understand it."

"Compartmental syndrome?" Roy sniffed, thinking.

"Already?" Gage frowned, bending close to make sure the man
was breathing well in his new left side shifted position.

"It has to be that. You know how bad joints swell up after taking a hit.
Especially if it's a knee." 

Gage lifted his head, feeling how the broken bones lay tangled just 
under the skin. "I'll get a splint. Maybe we can keep, at least, 
his upper leg viable enough to save."

"That's what we're gonna have to do. We've no other choice
in the matter." Roy agreed.

Johnny horsewhistled loudly, and got Jimmy Colorado and Lou's attention.
He pinwheeled an arm sharply in a gesture. "He's alive! Send up the first 
bundle! The splints pack!  No, not the green one yet. The long, flat 
orange one!"

Colorado finally got the right duffle tied off and Johnny began the long
chore of hand over hand pulling it up on its rope.

A scuffling on the rocks above them sent a small cascade of sand down
onto Roy's head. He protectively threw his body over the injured hiker's 
head as he looked up for the source of the disturbance. A dangling foot of
a practiced climber lowered quickly into view. 

Roy saw that their new arrival had expensive cleats on and he barely 
registered the fact that the man could only have come from the hot, flame 
burning campsite on the ridge above the ledge. "Where'd you come from?" 
he blurted out, helping the man's feet gain a grip on the narrow ledge. 

"I was about to ask you the same thing." he grinned, pulling something off 
from around his neck. "Glad you heard my gunshot and came up here, too.
I was wondering how I'd get Stuart down from this ledge all by myself." 
he said piling a coil of light mountain rope near the cliff's drop off.

"Wait a minute. Isn't the fire fully involved up there? How is it that you're
still breathing?"

The climber reached into his jacket and pulled out a small cylinder. It
was green. "With this. It's portable oxygen. I grabbed it from our cessna
while getting a few other things I needed and I wore the mask until
I got into the clearer air blowing up the rock face. Get it on him. I assume you 
have medical training. Stuart looks like he's been effectively evaluated." he 
said, throwing a well groomed head at the neatly split clothing skirting 
Stuart's bruised arms and legs.

"You sound very much like a close paramedic friend of mine." Roy mused,
smiling. "His name's Brice."

"And you're one, too?" guessed the man.

"Yep. So's my partner. He'll be right back. He's getting some splints up here
from a pair of horseback riders waiting down below. I'm Roy DeSoto. From 
Los Angeles County." he replied, turning the dial of O2 on after he had the 
small mask snuggly fastened over the hiker's nose and mouth.

Johnny reappeared from around the corner, flattening to the rock wall with all
the clinging power he could muster in the sharp breeze. "I got them and some..."
he broke off as Roy and the stranger both reached down to help him up onto
leveler ground. 

"This is Johnny Gage from my same fire station. 51's in Carson City. And you 
are?" DeSoto interjected neatly.

"Dr. Lance Baldwin. I'm an orthopedic surgeon. Stuart's a med student of mine, 
originally from Chicago. I brought him up here to see what the back country 
looks like but I didn't quite bank on his suburbanite upbringing getting in the 
way. I told him not to light a fire until the Santa Anas died down for the night." 
said the doctor tightly as he immediately knelt down by Stuart's ruined knee. 
"Still no pulse in it?" he asked them.

"No." Gage replied. "You wouldn't happen to have any I.V. solution bags with 
that oxygen do you, doc?" he said, crouching near with a serious expression 
on his face.

"Sorry. Fresh out. We can always improvise and make some at the ranch 
once we're out of danger until your coworkers get here to give us replacements."
he said opening a small red plastic case that he had pulled out of his jacket
pocket. "I've got a sphyg and steth in my backpack. Take a vitals set, would ya? 
I'm gonna try and save this leg if I can." he said, getting out a long sterile syringe 
and needle pack.

"What are you gonna do?" asked Roy, frowning.

"I'm going to try and draw out some of this excess fluid buildup here. If I can
do that, blood may flow back down into Stuart's leg. Knee fractures create a lot
of clots. If I can remove most of them..."

"His foot'll probably make it then. I get the picture. Need my help at all?" 
asked Roy.

"Yes, go get that empty water bottle blowing around. We can use that to hold the
blood and debris I'll get out of the joint. But first, swab down the entire knee with
this betadine. I'm going to go in from the front." said the surgeon, holding up the 
still safely sheathed syringe. 

"Will that evacuation work?" Johnny asked, looking up from a blood pressure he
had taken along with the rest of the basics. "80/54.....22 and 124."

"Yes. I do these all the time on the operating table to prevent nasty unnecessary 
amputations. Let's hurry a little. Stuart'll kill me when he wakes up later and finds out 
that I couldn't keep him from having one of THOSE done on him. There's still time 
to reverse this leg's compromised blood flow." said Lance. "And he won't get 
cardio-hyperkalemic on us if I manage to do this fast enough."

Soon, the leg was set and the doctor began the emergency procedure. He 
advanced the long needle under the skin after a sharp pop, until a pulling up 
on the plunger produced a flashback of thick redness. "Hold the leg still, while 
I get the rest of this eviscerated marrow out."

Johnny and Roy both used their hands to still the twitching muscles of the oxygen
starved leg with firm grips. Clot after thick soupy clot entered the syringe's chamber
until nothing but clear fluid followed. Gage slipped a hand under Stuart's popliteal
artery. "I've got a pulse now." He looked down at Stuart's bare foot. "And there's
refill almost faster than two seconds in all five of his toes. I think that did it, doc."

"It usually does." smiled Baldwin. He pulled out the needle and plungered pushed 
its contents into the plastic water bottle Roy held out to him. He dropped in the 
whole injector set, needle and all into the container and screwed the water bottle's 
cap down to seal it away so no one would stick themselves on its sharp end. "I like 
to stay thinking that I'm pretty good at doing knees, boys. Ok, let's get him set to 
move out. I'll take one of those splints of yours to wrap this leg up myself. I know 
just how to position this kind of bad break for the best perfusion. Don't worry, we've 
plenty of time to do this now."

 A sharp gust of wind sent a swirl of burning loose grass tornadoing around 
the four of them. Johnny threw the tarp over Stuart's head so the oxygen gas 
wouldn't ignite the skin on his face off an ember. The fire surged and lapped over
the edge of the ridgetop only twenty feet above them making all of them duck
into a huddle instinctively.

"I think.. we just ran out of time. The brush fire's right on top of us." Gage quailed.

Then the opposite ends of the ledge burst into flames.

-----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Photos:  A fractured knee being needle evacuated. 

Photo: Marrow and blood in a water bottle.

Photo:  A well splinted knee using homemade cloth strips.

Photo:  A firestorm spilling over pine trees.

Photo:  Roy, Johnny and another man crouched on a cliff ledge.

**************************************************
From: "Cassidy Meyers" <killashandraRey@hotmail.com> 
Date: Sun Jan 29, 2006  2:00 am 
Subject: Good Things Come In Small Packages... 


"He's gotta get down now!" Johnny shouted to Roy and the
cringing doctor.  "We won't make it running away from here 
if we're carrying him!"

Baldwin swiftly began wrapping Stuart's legs together
with his belt. "I got some mailing bubble wrap in my pack.
Between that and the straps off of it, I'll splint his legs well enough 
to keep his pressure in compensation for any rough hauling. 
You guys just get that rope I set over there ready for him."
said Lance, reaching into his emergency satchel for a
nasopharyngeal airway. "I got this working..." he said firmly,
threading the rubber tube into Stuart's nose to secure him
better breathing wise.

Roy heard a shout of panic drift up to the ledge. 

It was Lou, yelling louder than ever. "Get down! Get down from 
there!" screamed the ranch hand. "The trees are going up! It's 
a fire storm!"

Thick smoke billowed in like a sour fog, blocking their view
of the horse trail utterly and the heat began to build.

A sputtering spark alighted in Johnny's hair as he worked to 
fashion a fast, crude body harness. He uttered a cry and fell to
the ground as he used the sandy dirt to snuff it out.

"You ok?!" DeSoto coughed.

"I'm fine. Just keep working..*choke*. We may bake for a while 
here lowering him down, but at least in all this wind, we've got 
air to breathe." Gage puffed, getting to his feet and shaking
dirt from his head.

"I can think of worse ways of dying as a firefighter." Roy quipped,
grinning. "But I never thought I'd find myself wishing that the Santa 
Ana winds would keep on blowing."

'Yeah, well that's one wish I'll join in on wholeheartedly."
Johnny said, tying one last knot into their improvised rope harness.
"All right, my side's done. Let's get this on him."

Lance was folded on the ground, sucking in the cool air uprising into
the fire. Stubbornly, he had kept the oxygen on Stuart while he waited
for DeSoto and Gage to finish their preparations.

Roy crawled over to him. "If you're short of breath, go ahead and use
his O2. You can't rescue anybody if you let yourself get into trouble first." 
he told the doctor as he peeled off the young man's mask to hand it
to him.

"Wait!  What are you--.." Lance protested. But then he accepted that 
firefighter lesson instantly when the oxygen Roy suddenly pressed to his 
face drove away a bad wave of dizziness. He let his face drop nose down 
into the dirt as it left him.

"You ok?" Roy asked him, pulling himself nearer. "It's gonna take
all three of us to handle his weight with all this bad air around." he said,
keeping the mask in place. "Is this helping?...Baldwin?...Hey.." 
He started to call out when Baldwin didn't move or reply right away.
"..Johnny.."

The doctor held up a just-give-me-a-minute finger without lifting his
head as he started coughing, trying to get his lungs free of the acrid smoke. 
"I'm.....*gag* ...fine. Don't slow ....your partner down at all." he whispered.
Then he rolled over onto his back and took three more breaths off the 
oxygen mask Roy was holding for him. "I don't have a pair of firemen's 
lungs yet like you two seem to have. Guess I'm.....just unlucky enough
to be in the wrong kind of business here." he grunted uncomfortably.

Roy bent lower, watching him closely. "Do you have asthma or any other
kind of COPD I should know about?"

"No." Lance lied.

DeSoto wasn't fooled.
"I'll give you a minute more on that. Then we have to---"  

"I'm ready now.." Lance said, sitting up abruptly. He pulled off
the mask. "Give this back to him for a bit. Until he's over the edge.
Then we can take it and save it for our trip down, ok?" he begged 
DeSoto. With an effort, he suppressed his coughing long enough to 
show Roy that he could still control his breathing rate.

Gage suddenly reappeared and dragged himself into their midst 
through a thick plume of smoke. "Stuart's set. Gimme that." he said,
reaching for the oxygen.

Lance gave it to him.

Johnny took a few pulls and pushed it back. "Here, set it back on him.
Roy doesn't need it yet."

With a sober look, Baldwin did it. Stuart's color improved visibly a few
seconds later. "He's feeling this smoke, too. I still say we should keep
the tank on him."

"Lance, he's not breathing as deeply as we are. He's got more tolerance
then we do right now believe it or not. He'll do fine for a while. Just help
Roy and me roll him over the edge. I've thrown a rock. The others saw its 
impact so they know we're still all right and that he's coming down."
Gage snapped.

Lance tried to smile. "Imagine that. A paramedic's finally giving orders to 
a physician."

"I won't tell if you won't." Johnny quipped with the same brave smile.

They got to work.

Roy added more. "I got a note tied around Stuart's arm saying to send 
up our last pack, Johnny."

"Good, we're gonna need it." Gage said quietly, scared.

"Need what?" Baldwin asked.

--------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Jimmy Colorado and Lou managed to lay Stuart down on the trail
in between the horses. They cut his rope away to save time and they 
saw Roy's note.

The smallish square green pack was soon secured by its hook to the hauling
line still disappearing up the cliff's face in the thickening smoke. The
ranch hand gave the line a firm couple of jerks.

Slowly, foot by foot, the pack was retrieved.

"What are they doing now asking for that?" Jimmy wondered as he
knelt by Stuart's head to keep tabs on his condition.

"I don't know. Maybe they're pulleys or something so all three of
them can rappel down from there all at once." Lou shrugged. 

"They'd better hurry. The fire's burning right down to them. 
If they don't get out of there soon..." Colorado said.

"Easy, son, don't get all worked up over nothing. Have a little faith. Those
are firemen up there. I'm sure that they probably know what they're doing.
Think about it. If they didn't, they never even would have made the trip 
up there to try and save this guy." chuckled Lou. But then his face
lost all trace of humor after they both lost sight of the dragging bundle
knotted at the end of the rope.

Above them, the fire began to roar like an angry waterfall. 

They were forced to retreat many yards down the trail towards the roadside.

::Please be ok. Please.:: Lou thought privately as he desperately tried
to peer through the huge bank of smoke twisting visciously into the sky. 

Then the tongues of flame began to rise higher than the trees.

"Oh mother of--!" Colorado gasped as they watched in a panic.
"Lou, please tell me they're good enough to survive even this." he moaned 
softly.

The horses behind them panicked, straining against their reins tied to a tree. 

-----------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Photo:        *Animation*: A firefighter pulling up a mylar shelter 
                    around himself and falling to the ground. 

**************************************************
From: Sam Iam <lafddispatcher@yahoo.com> 
and Cory Anda <andacory@hotmail.com>
Date: Sun Jan 29, 2006  10:39 am 
Subject: Plume From Heaven.. 


"That'll be up to the wind, Jimmy. It's holding all the
cards now."

"The ....wind..?" Colorado murmured. "Oh, the wind. Yeah,..
uh, right." he said weakily, sagging to the ground next to 
Stuart. "This man's still alive. And he's....breathing ok for 
us." he said taking a wrist pulse with his other hand on top 
of Stuart's stomach.

"That's good. You just keep on thinking positive thoughts,
son. It'll work out in the end for those paramedics 'cause 
that's just the way things follow through for guys like them." 
Lou said with a fervor he didn't feel.

Then the horses' frightened chorus whinneys splintered 
off key under some new growing sounds. The sounds of fire 
department sirens......

------------------------------------------------------------------------

Up on the ledge, Gage was clawing at the pack blindly
because he couldn't see very well at all through the smoke, 
but he was smiling. "Roy, that's 105! And our engine. I know 
those sounds ....*cough* anywhere."

"105's the magic number we were waiting for, junior. She's gonna
be our ticket outta here." Roy was just as quick to help him while 
Baldwin conserved his strength lying on his side. Lance's face 
was overhanging the ledge inside the stream of speeding fresh 
air flowing up the mountain. And Roy was still firmly sitting on the 
rope tied around the doctor's waist."Let's hope she's faster than 
the fire, Johnny. I don't wanna have to use the brand new aces 
up our sleeves."

"What? Don't you trust 110's brush captain to come up with another 
smart, effective invention like he's apparently done? I don't know
about you but I'm awfully glad we commissioned to get some of his new 
FS's. Those brush assignment boys of his alone swear up and down 
that these things work like a charm."

"I don't wanna tempt fate any more than I have to." Roy told him softly, 
coughing.

Johnny forcibly turned Roy's head with his hands until he had DeSoto 
looking directly up into the inferno enveloping the doctor's plane and 
campsite. "Just look at what we're gonna face, Roy. In about three 
minutes we won't have much choice to do anything else about it." Gage 
said loudly. "Come on. No use whining now. We got these. And I know
you're really glad you have em, too. I know you are, ...somewhere." he said 
unconvincingly. "You always trust new technology whenever it's handed 
to us. Just like I do. You knew that when we got up here or you never 
would have written that note we sent down with our victim."

It had taken half a minute to explain why there wasn't time enough
for anyone to climb down the clifftop. DeSoto could still
remember the end of their conversation.

"....The ropes will catch on fire and burn through with us only half way 
down. Think about it, doctor. Do you want to end up like Stuart or worse?" 
Roy had asked. "We're far better off sticking around and waiting for 
help to arrive."

Lance had shut up after that. He no longer said anything much at all.
Neither did he attempt to cover up the obvious fact that he was slipping 
further into a bad asthma attack. He just crawled over to the ledge's lip
and rested there on his stomach, gasping. It was as good a solution as
any. Cold air usually worked for him. ::Now why didn't I grab my inhaler
along with the plane's emergency surgical kit?:: he wondered. 

Johnny broke Roy out of his reflections with a smack of a plastic
bound package against his chest. "Open yours. I'll open mine. And
then we'll both tell him how to use his. Is he still conscious?"

"Yeah. He's trying to get a hold on his fright right now so he doesn't
tighten up worse than he already is." DeSoto replied, keeping a hand
on the doctor's respirations where he lay. He tapped him. "Baldwin,..." he
said. "Come on and get on your feet. We gotta show you something.
Real fast. And yes, it's gonna save our lives here. I can read your mind."

The two paramedics opened up billowing silver triangles of mylar supported
with tent shaped wire frames and both of them stepped onto elastic cords
stretched across the ends of their fire shelters. "Here. Do what we're doing
now. Grab a tight hold of yours so the wind doesn't pull it out of your hands."
Johnny told Lance.

"What? I don't--"

"These are emergency fire tents, doctor. It'll block out all the flames. No matter
how hot it gets outside, inside these, it'll only be 275 degrees.. Just pull it over
yourself once you get on the ground and let it cover you completely. Like
a tent would."

"Wonderful." said the gasping doctor, getting to his feet. He soon caught 
up with them on setting up his own experimental fire shelter. "That solves
the fricasee problem, but what about ....the air ..*gasp* ..we need to breathe?"

"That where she come in.." Gage said happily, pointing downwards
through the smoke just as a loud klaxon burst through the roar of the fire.
He stuck out one of his hands that contained a flare gun and he fired it 
off away from the mountain where he knew it would arch in clear air and 
be seen. "105's already on the job. Just get in. Get in!" he urged as he 
dropped to the ground "Doctor, you're on your own now." he warned. 
"The fire's here! Trust us. These will buy us the time we desperately need." 
Then Johnny disappeared underneath his shelter. Roy had already done 
so under his silver triangle of flimsy seeming mylar. "Just relax and breathe
slow off the oxygen's tank once you're under it." shouted his voice through 
the shiny material.

Baldwin finally decided to use his emergency fire shelter moments before 
a wall of fire, dipping on the wind, covered him utterly in a snarling blast of 
red hot flames.

-----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Captain Stanley got out of the Ward LaFrance and instantly, his face
turned toward the mountain as he felt the others gather around his side.
"Chet, Marco. Circle around and see if you can spot where they are up there.
Bellingham, Brice, and I will start this man's care until 84's squad gets here 
to help us out." he said opening the squad's medical gear doors. "Stoker,
get our water hooked up to 105's pump immediately."

"Right." said 51's engineer.

"Cap. I hope they're doing ok. This fire looks like she's shaping up
into a bad one." Marco said. "They managed to find the hiker and get him out
ok, but they might not get so lucky here."

"Yeah, well, it might not be so bad yet. The only tinder's up there on top. 
A point in our favor always.. concerning coastal pines like these. Get going 
up the trail. Chet's already heading towards the ocean." Hank told him. 
"Radio to 105 with a new orientation if you see any signs or anything at all 
about where they are." he said with a full, quiet worry coloring his voice.

"Got it." said Lopez, gripping his HT even tighter. He ran off away from 
the light smoke pouring off the mountain slope.

Station 105 continued to prepare for her rapid rescue.

------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Kelly had pushed through a thick bush when he spotted a blood bright
flare as it came bursting out of the rising smoke column above the canopy
blaze. He froze in his crouch and started yelling into his handy talkie.
"HT 51 to Laddertruck 105. I've got a flare! Seventy five feet above you
directly. See it? The wind's pushing it westward rapidly."

##We see it and we're shifting position. Our bucket's live and all aerial 
hose lines are charged. ETA to your men's elevation, one minute.##

"Come on, come on. Burn those hydraulics, captain." Chet mumbled
as he started running back for the engines and squad. "These are my
personal friends' butts we're bailing.." he said to himself.

----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
The tall, pure white, swan like neck of the Addison on Ladder Truck 105 rose
high into the sunny air and was soon bissected by the fire's thick brown smoke. 
Her operator was uneffected, wearing full scba. Even before the full panel 
directed height was reached, the bucket man plumed his hose on full force stream
into a massive fan. Supported by Engine 51's ample supply, he sent tons of water 
down onto the mountainside over the invisible ledge the flare had apparently 
fired from. The falling water snuffed out the rising flames in great fountaining 
hisses and suddenly, three singed, deployed silver fire shelters became visible.
"I don't believe it." he muttered. "They managed to get em up in time. But
who's under the third shell?"

Still providing cooling cover in a curtain, he lowered his bucket to the rocky shelf 
and landed on it with a thud. "Hey, can anybody hear me? Rise and shine!"

--------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
Johnny Gage was firmly delivering breaths, using the ladder bucket's positive
pressure demand valve, to Doctor Baldwin. The small oxygen tank that Lance
had used had run bone dry. Then the smoke had done the rest of its suffocating 
work. Roy was on 105's HT.  "Cap! Get permission for albuterol and a tracheal 
intubation a.s.a.p. We've a status asthmaticus. Acute!"

##Brice's got Brackett on the horn. I'll relay.## replied Hank.

There were no sweeter words Roy could have heard right then, except those.

Baldwin and Stuart would live to fly another day.

-----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Photo: A ladder truck with its aerial deployed delivering water.

Photo:  105's bucket cannon in a close up.

Photo:  A rescue flare firing off into the sky.  

Photo: Chet Kelly radioing into his HT under bushes. 

Photo: A man in a cowboy hat, sitting in the grass. 

Photo: A laddertruck coming up a dusty hill. 

Photo: A bucket in active resuscitation, touching down. 

Photo:  A fire shelter victim lying in an upturned mylar tent. 

 
**************************************************
From: Patti or Jeff or Cassidy <theaterhost@voyagerliveaction.com> 
Date: Sun Jan 29, 2006  9:31 pm 
Subject: Walk Like A Man...  


It was Saturday. Six weeks later. 

And things were definitely looking up at the Beer-A-Bye-Bye 
club in uptown L.A. The entire A shift, plus four others, were 
with their associated dates or spouses at tables surrounding 
the talent night open stage where Jimmy Colorado was holding 
the last newspaper promised concert of the year, in California.

 It was intermission, at the half way point, which allowed time 
for the down to earth singer to rest and drink water to get set 
for the more vocally intense second half of his one man show.

"Johnny, you are absolutely right about him." murmured Joanne
DeSoto about Jimmy Colorado. "His music makes you want to
smile or cry in the blink of an eye. And I'm not one to be swayed 
easily that way."

"Sure you are." said Roy. "You weep listening to classical music
all the time while you do the dusting..." he insisted.

"That's not because of the music, you ninny.  You know I have a dust
allergy. I turn on that music so I can distract myself from sneezing. If
I didn't do that every week, the housecleaning would never get done." 
Joanne laughed.

"Really.. so I married an insensitive domesticator? That's news to me."
Roy grinned, biting into a Cheetos nugget from the woven snacking
basket in front of him.

"Oh, you..." Joanne said, smacking Roy affectionately on the shoulder
in mock insult.

Dixie and Kel Brackett had overheard and McCall whispered to Joanne.
"Jimmy's singing effects me the same way and I first heard him a capella."

Nearby, Kelly sat with his sister and he leaned into Johnny secretly. 
"Psst. Hey, Gage." he said, pretending to tie the laces on his splashy
two toned shoes.

"What?!" Johnny replied in irritation at his coworker. He was deeply
into making ga-ga eyes at his date, the EMT from Schaeffer's.

"Is that Matilda Emily Lynn Volskeld? Man, is she a looker.." and Chet
gave him a thumbs up before he leaned back into the darkness once
more to give them a little privacy to continue on with what they were 
doing.

Johnny Gage just smiled with a smug modest look and started kissing 
his date once again over a glass of red wine. "Thanks. I think she's real
nice, too. That's why I brought her here tonight, Chet." he whispered.

Mel blinked quizzically when they finally broke apart. "Who are you talking
to?"

"Nobody as important as you are to me right now." he said cheekily sly,
sipping his wine without looking over at Kelly.

"Aww, that's so sweet." Mel said, and she gave Gage another peck on
the lips.


"Way to go to charm the ladies.." came another silky voice from the darkness
on Johnny's other side. It was Craig Brice, still relaxing at his own table.

Johnny turned around to grin at him, too, when he realized that Brice's date,
who had been late, had finally arrived.

"Hi, Johnny.." said a familiar bubbly blonde. It was Valerie, the three kid
single mom who's dating stint with Johnny ended horribly during her oldest 
child's dog bite rescue call.

Gage did an unpleasant double take. "Uh, hi." He said the first thing that
came to mind. "Uh, I hope you enjoy the rest of the show, Valerie. Glad
you could come..." Then he turned right back around, with social niceties 
satisfied. Then he thought very softly to himself. ::First thing I'm gonna
do tommorrow morning is get Valerie's picture out from behind Smokey
the Bear's poster in my locker. If Craig finds out that I have that still...::
he shuddered.

"Oh Jimmy's dreamy, Johnny. And his voice is, too. How many albums did 
you say he has out already?" asked Valerie innocently.

"Two." Johnny replied, trying to smile at Mel again over his wine glass, without
turning around. He could feel his lips pursing angrily at the further interruption.

"You know, I think I'm gonna go out later this week to go buy them myself."
Valerie tittered. "I never realized that I could get into country tunes.."
Then she mercifully turned back to Brice, and started snuggling a blush
overbrushed cheek against his shoulder.

Johnny had a further thought. ::Should I warn Brice about her?:: Then his better
half decided discretion was the better part of valor. ::Oh, well. No one warned me.
Experience is the best teacher they always say.:: he said giving a mock mini 
toast to the air as he sipped his Cabernet solo at the idea.

------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

The MC for the club got back on the microphone parked on the black
varnished stool sitting center stage. He was wearing a Woodstock tie dye
T-Shirt with a peace symbol in metal on a chain around his neck. He had
a red biker's bandana tied around his forehead but his hair was nothing like
a biker's, it was close trimmed with elegant sideburns. "Hello all, I hope you
all got the right burger orders. We have a new waitress on the floor tonight."
he joked, pointing at the bar's newest employee just to embarrass her." No,
really folks, Peggy from Anaheim did just fine on her first night waiting tables.
Please show your ...appreciation ...the best way you know how later on, she thinks
she's going to med school in the fall..." he teased. Peggy blushed even brighter.
"It's almost time once again for this evening's very special guest performer
to return onstage to finish the very latest repetoire of previously unheard
and soon-to-debut radio songs. Ladies and gentlmen, remember that 
you heard them first right here at the classic, Beer-A-Bye-Bye in wonderful
uptown L.A. I give you once again... the one, the only, Jimmy Colorado, folks."
and he started applauding in cowed respectful admiration as the singer, still 
limping lightly, came out from behind the wings with a bright blue guitar to take
over. He sat down on the black stool, returning the microphone back to its
mic stand in front of him. 

Jimmy sat down with a bit of stiffness from lingering muscle aches. He politely 
acknowledged the over enthusiastic whistles and applause coming from his 
fans and invited firehouse and hospital guests. Then he began to speak.
"You know. I'm going to be honest with you tonight if I may."

"Sssure... Gao ahead!" yelled one drunk audience member. "I'm listhening.."

Colorado chuckled when he spotted the tipsy man, after shading his eyes
from the spotlight. "Ok, guess I can dump out just about anything now. Thanks."
he said cheekily with a touch of shy embarrassment. Then his expression sobered
into one of serious gratitude. "There was a good chance, a very good chance a
few weeks ago, that a bit of a mishap could have kept me from performing here tonight
for this show or for any other future one, for that matter, if it hadn't've been for a 
bunch of good, kind folks who helped me out of the unexpected rut I had suddenly 
found myself in."

Cries of dismay from the younger adolescent crowd burst through but Jimmy 
staved them off with a reassuring hand. "I'm fine now. Really. Thanks. I can only 
say that ...that ..I have a truly new sense of appreciation for all kinds of music 
these days, .. and especially for my own, ..because of them. So I figured I'd
return the favor, doing a good deed......for ...a good deed received. Johnny.. could
you come up here for a moment? ....Folks? Is Johnny Gage out there in the audience
tonight?"

Johnny looked pinned but he finally stood in his seat when the roving spot light
located him when an overeager Chet showed the techie where to point it.

"Ah, he is. Come on, don't be shy now. Because I know you're not. I've
seen how you work." Colorado quipped. 

That brought a spate of laughter from the firehouse and hospital portion
of the crowd.

Jimmy then gestured to a stage hand to come on out with a second
stool, microphone.. and....Chet's beat up, hastily polished guitar.

Captain Stanley quailed, along with the rest of 51's gang. They all 
remembered what had happened the last time Gage had a guitar in his hand.

"Oh, no.." Kelly moaned. "He's gonna make a fool out of himself. He
can't play worth a dime.." he hissed at Lopez. 

"Should we stop him?" Marco asked Chet. 

Stoker shushed them both into silence.

Bill McConnikee just winked from a rear table in back of the club
where he sat with his wife in a private booth. He raised his glass
in a toast to Johnny before Gage stepped onto the stage and into
the pastel lights splashing sparkles across the black tiled floor.

Johnny wasn't nervous at all. In fact, he appeared almost....smug,
and everyone he knew soon began to wonder .....why.

But then Jimmy Colorado started talking again. "I'm sure some of
you are scratching your heads right about now, wondering what I'm
up to.. and this is it." He started to strum a few chords of a new
never heard before ballad when he remembered something." Oh, sorry.
I've forgotten someone. Craig Brice? I hope you remembered your
bongo set. I haven't forgotten that you helped me teach him everything
he now knows." the singer said mysteriously with a wink at the front
tables.

"Everyone, Johnny here is about to accompany me, 
playing on his guitar, during a very, very special new piece that's growing to 
mean a completely whole new world to me. He helped me come up with 
the melody during these past few weeks...while I finally got all the words
down on paper. These lyrics came to me believe it or not...while I was 
watching someone struggling to live....during a brush fire...
 
"Folks, without further delay,.. we bring you the next main signature song 
from my as yet to come third album,......Ladies and Gentlemen, 
This...is 'Windsong.'" smiled Jimmy.

The gang from 51 cringed as the first notes of the tune started to
emerge from Johnny's fingertips but the jarring they were all expecting,
never arrived. As one, the two guitarists stroked, chord for chord and
then they broke off into independent, bright, melody and harmony, 
interweaving call and responses as the opening measures began, with 
Craig Brice's soft bongos delivering a light, lilting tempo. 

Under the rainbow show lights, Brice and Colorado almost looked like....twins.

"When did Gage learn how to play like that?" Kelly asked everybody, 
thoroughly dumbstruck. He sat forward and shook his head a little, not 
believing his ears as perfect, professional quality musicianship, filled 
him with ....actual wonder.

"Guess he got a few lessons in somewhere along the line. Jimmy did
mention that Brice and Gage were in on the song's creation. For that matter,
I think Bill McConnikee was in on some of it, too. Did you see the odd way
he raised his glass to--" Marco guessed.

"Shhh...." hissed Hank, ending the conversation most effectively.

Very soon after, the whole club was carried away, lost in the delicate
power and beauty of Colorado's newest song. It was surely destined 
to become one of the most popular tunes he wrote that year.

Inwardly, Johnny Gage tried not to smile too big......when it was over.

He took the following standing ovation, like a man.


Episode Twenty Nine- Where The Wind Blows 

FIN 

-----------------------------------------------------------

Photos:  None.



            
                            End Credits --  Episode Twenty Nine  (Fourth Season)
                                      
                                              §§    Where The Wind Blows    §§


              :)        This episode is dedicated to the multi-platinum American         :)
                        singer John Denver, who died suddenly in an experimental
                        plane crash in October 1997. His messages of tolerance and
                        environmental awareness still ring joyfully in the songs he
                        created for each and every one of us to enjoy.  His works still 
                       transcend far beyond his own death.  He moves us still into 
                       realizing the spirit of life fully while all who listen to his music 
                       continue to be captivated by the power of his voice.
                       
            :)                                                                                                                     :)
 
 
The Story Unfolds...

Season Four, Episode Thirty..
 
 §§     Eligibility     §§
 
Debut Launch: February 1st, 2006. 

 
**************************************************
From :  patti keiper <pattik1@hotmail.com> 
Sent :  Friday, February 10, 2006 4:29 PM 
Subject :  [EmergencyTheaterLive] The Little Wager... 


Rec-time at Station 51 was in full swing...with a catch.

"You guys are all absolutely nuts, you know that?!" warbled Cap
across folded arms from where he was leaning just inside of
the ample curtain of rain falling from the lip of the rear garage
door's opening. "I should have McConnikee come out here right
now to see this to evaluate the whole lot of ya for sudden crisis 
behavioral changes. Stress is definitely playing a factor here."
he chided, without an ounce of humor.

"What stress, Cap? We haven't had a run all day." said Stoker, grinning 
as he readjusted the blue hat on his head to deflect more of the 
lightningless shower threatening to drown out his line of view of homeplate 
by the old engine. "We're playing a little game. Softball to be exact. 
Even ol' Henry's getting into it. See?" he blinked through thick streams
of cascading downpour.  Stoker was soaked to the skin along with the rest 
of the gang, and grinning like a banshee. Mike pointed to the ample 
bellied bassett, who was rolling with pure doggy pleasure in a rapidly
filling rain puddle with an out of play ball clenched firmly in his teeth. 

"Ohmyg*d... Guys, he's rolling in pure mud!" Hank fretted like a cat
spooked hen. "Who's gonna mop up all his paw tracks afterwards?"

"That's what fire hoses are for, Cap." Marco chuckled, opening his mouth
to catch enough of the rain to fountain it out of his mouth again in childish
pleasure. "They're real good for fast cleanups."

Hank just harrumphed low in his throat and took another step away from
the open backyard doorway to avoid getting his shoes wet.

Gage got into needling Cap, too. "Yeah. We promise we'll open up the front 
doors and .....blast them all away into the street when we're done." he crowed
absently, almost giddy from the ample downpour that was practically drowning
him.

"Oh, and can you do that in thirty seconds after we get toned out...?" 
Cap shot back acidly, "Around both the fire trucks and everything?"

"Come on, Cap. Look..He's loving every second of it here. And so are we I
might add. I feel at least, twenty years younger." smiled Roy, leaning up 
to the garbage can lid that was serving as a plate for his turn at bat. 
"Just think, it's the one kinda bath Henry'll take here without causing us a 
major battle." he grinned toothily, blinking away the warm rain's deluge.

Cap had a comment for that, too. "Oh no!" he quailed. "Now look at him, ya twits. 
He's rolling in the ash pile. He's gonna smell real good come the third inning. 
I oughta order you all back in here right now.." he threatened with a note of 
seriousness.

Chet, just grinned as he wiped away thick droplets of rain that were
trickling into his eyes from his water flattened hair. "Aw, Cap. Don't go
and spoil things for the rest of us just because you don't like to get wet
without good reason. We can't help it if your dislike for fish and what
they live in runs through ya like water.." he grinned at his own pun. "Why
don't ya come out and join us?" Kelly challenged, pulling down his catcher's
mask again over his face and spitting out a stream of mouth gathered rain.
"Don't knock it unless you've tried it. It's great! Roy's right about feeling 
invigorated. I feel like a million--"

"Five minutes.." finger stabbed Cap. "Five minutes, and then it's back into
the locker room for all of ya. I'll never live it down if we show up at some
poor old lady's house on a kitten stuck in a tree call looking like a pack of 
drowned rats."

"I don't think a cat's really gonna go out into weather like this, Cap." Gage remarked
honestly with a straight face. The others were trying to hide infectious sets of grins.

"Oh, you all know what I mean.. My order stands. Just make sure you obey it
to the letter.." he growled. Then he disappeared into the bowels of the apparatus 
bay. Moments later, they heard the coffee pot jangling when Cap snatched it 
off the burner it was warming on to pour himself some.

The five firemen frolicking in the storm immediately got back into the thick of
things and the current play in the game.

Chet smiled. "That was easy."

"It always is when Cap's had a bad night's sleep. All that wool muddling his brain
conveniently gets in the way of his handling us during station downtime. Remember?
You know he only gets sharp as a tack mentally during a fire or medical call on days 
he seems like that." chuckled Johnny.

Roy bit his lip. "I wonder why he's tired today... It's not like we were busy or anything
last night. Not at all. I wouldn't count the three dumpster fires we responded to 
as having been very taxing."

"Cap? Tired?" Chet piped up, tossing his softball up and down into a testing catch in
the rain. "Man.. Roy, he slept like a newborn babe last night. Didn't you hear how 
loud he sawed the wood around two am? And that was only about five seconds after
his head hit the pillow. I think he was studying those mystery books of his again."

"What mystery books?" asked Marco.

"Don't be dense, Marco. You know what books. There's probably a 
chief's spot opening up at Headquarters and Cap's probably
been trying to hide the fact that he's putting in for such a promotion from us 
by drilling from them whenever he thinks the rest of us are all still sleeping.."
Kelly replied.

"Hey,.." Lopez looked up, puzzled. "I just thought of something else."

"What, Marco?" Roy asked.

"If Cap gets that white helmet spot he's supposedly going after, 
who'll get his skunker stripe spot here?" Lopez wondered. 

There was a pause in the storm for a long, single beat.. Then..

Chet and Gage eyed each other in a new light of appraising competition
instantly that had nothing to do with the storm sewer cover softball game.

Kelly smacked his rain wrinkled hand into his soggy ball glove. "You gonna go for it,
too, Gagey boy?" he said, narrowing his eyes at Johnny and not looking away.

"Yeah,.. I think I will." Gage said, beginning to grin. "Let's put a ....friendly little
wager on it there, Mr. Chester B. Kelly. And may the best man.....win."

Roy's eyes got real big. "Oh, boy. Talk about opening up your can of worms here."
he said, looking from his far too serious partner looking back at an equally, 
pure ironized, Chet Kelly. "Uh, guys, you're just kidding about following through
with all this becoming-a-captain stuff,....aren't you?"

The clap of thunder that finally drove them all pell mell into the safety of
the garage, punctuated his feeble statement, soundly.
 
---------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Photo: Chet and Gage playing softball.

Photo: Marco and Stoker playing softball.

Photo: Animation: Falling black rain.

Photo: Gage and Chet nose to nose in an argument on
            the kitchen table.

*************************************************** 
From: "Monster Moofie" <monstermoof4me@comcast.net> 
Date: Sat Feb 11, 2006  12:43 am 
Subject: Who is Johnny's date? 


Three days later, 51's A-shift was back on duty.  The day, however,
bore a completely different change of weather and call-outs for them.
The weather was beautiful and the station had been run ragged for 
the last twenty four hours. And for a change, even Johnny and Chet 
had arrived early.

Captain Stanley called the guys together for roll call.  After
giving out the assignments, he advised. "Hey guys. Just so you know, 
C-shift has been as busy as we were slow the other day.  It looks like
we're going to be kept hopping today.  Also, you two twits can
put 'gonna be captain' thoughts out of your minds," he looked 
directly at Chet and Johnny."We simply aren't going to have the time 
for any of that today."  Hank said, biting his lip.
 ::Heck, when we DO have time, I'll be glad to place some wagers
on them myself.:: Cap thought.  "I'm going to go do some paperwork 
I need to get done." Cap advised the guys as he headed towards 
his office.  "I suggest that all of you be ready to take over from 
C-shift on the fly when they get back."

----------------------------------------------------------------------------------

"How in the heck did Cap know about our little wager?"  Johnny
pondered as the five firemen headed into the kitchen.

"He always knows everything going on around here it 
seems. At least, to me." Marco commented.

"Yeah, I think you are right, Marco." Roy agreed.  "Well, we'd better
grab some coffee and donuts while we can." 

They all dug in, enjoying the usual station morning ritual of Chet feeding 
Henry pieces of his donut.  "At least Cap can't complain about 
Henry being muddy today," Kelly stated to the others.

-----------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Several hours later, Johnny was in an ambulance heading to Rampart
with a trip and fall patient.  "You are going to be just fine, Mrs. Jackson."
Johnny calmly soothed the anxious woman.  "It looks like you've
broken your leg but the baby seems to be ok.  We're arriving at
the hospital now.  They'll take good care of you."

The ambulance doors opened and he quickly wheeled the gurney 
into treatment three with the attendants, where Dr. Brackett was 
waiting for them.

"I'm Dr. Brackett." Kel introduced himself to the expectant
mother as he smiled. "Betty, please get me another set of vitals
on her."

"Doc, do you need me?" Johnny asked from the door.

"Nope. See you later, Johnny." Kel responded as he prepared to check
the mother's fetal heart-tones with his stethoscope. After a minute, he
said.  "Your baby's heart sounds just fine. He or she seems to be very 
active right now.  We've contacted your doctor and he'll see you 
when you get up to Maternity.  Meanwhile, we are going to get your 
leg x-rayed and then get that bone reset."

-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Johnny headed out of the treatment room and was joined by Roy who
was just entering the hospital. 

::It has indeed been an extremely busy shift for the entire station.::
DeSoto mused to himself. ::Thankfully, the weather's beautiful and its 
forecasted to stay that way for several days.:: he thought.  

Now that they had delivered their latest patient into Dr. Brackett's care, 
Roy and Johnny decided to dare taking a break.  

They had been going non-stop since their little donut-fest that morning.  
Ten minutes after Cap's little talk, the squad and engine, manned by C-shift, 
had pulled in and their own shift had been toned back out just two minutes 
later.  

Besides Mrs. Jackson, Squad 51 had responded to :  a house fire, 
thankfully with no injuries, a man who had cut himself with a jigsaw, 
a toddler who locked herself in the bathroom, two heart
attacks, and an MVA. They hadn't even had time to stop for lunch,
although they had been back at the station for five minutes at noon.

::Just long enough to hope for a lunch break and then have those hopes
dashed.:: Johnny sighed mentally.

Heading into Rampart's staff lounge, they grabbed some coffee and
fruit and sat down with another weary pair who entered the room as well.

"You two finally caught a break, huh?" Dr. Early asked the two
paramedics.  The hospital had been equally busy and Joe and Dixie
were enjoying their first break of the day.  Both had been on duty
since 6:00 a.m. and had been running non-stop.

"Doc!  You'll jinx us!" Johnny exclaimed.

Dixie laughed at Johnny's paranoia.  She didn't address it out loud,
however, choosing instead to ask, "So how are the plans for the
fireman's ball coming?"

"It's looking good, Dixie." Johnny replied.  "We've got the hotel 
ballroom rented and we've got a nice little band reserved.  They'll 
play quite a variety of tunes.. everything from jazz to some of 
the modern pop numbers. I'm really looking forward to it."

"Lucky for us, Joanne and Cap's wife, as well as several other firemen's
wives from C-shift, have taken over most of the planning," Roy stated.  
"They've taken on the menu, all the decorating and buying the prizes.  
Pretty much all we guys have to do, is show-up in our tuxes."

"Now that's the kind of planning I like to do." Dr. Early said with a
laugh.  "I've asked a friend to go with me.  It'll be nice to take
her out to a ball like this.  I hope this band's jazz is good."

"Kel is taking me, Joe. And I know he bought our tickets already." Dixie
added. "I'm glad for the excuse to go shopping for a new formal
dress tomorrow.  Not to mention the fact that I'm looking forward 
to dragging Kel away from this hospital!"  Changing tactics, 
she slyly said with a smirk, "So Johnny, who's the lucky lady?"

Blushing, Johnny stuttered, trying to think of an appropriate
reply.  He really didn't want to reveal who she was just yet.  The
guys had been trying to drag her name out of him for weeks and he
had been successful at deflecting their inquiries.  Dixie, however,
was another matter.  "Well, Dix, let me tell you about her." he
replied.  "She's...."

##Squad 51.  Stand by for a response.## squawked the radio.

"Squad 51, standing by." Johnny answered as he and Roy quickly headed
out the door.  "Thank goodness!  Saved by the bell," Johnny muttered
under his breath.

"Wow,.. that break lasted almost five minutes!  See you later Dix, Dr.
Early.." Roy called as the paramedics rushed out the door.

"Ohhh that darn radio!  Joe, did you get the feeling Johnny didn't
want to answer my question?"  Dixie asked.  ::I'm going to have to
look into this.:: she thought.

"Yep, I sure did." replied the thoughtful doctor.  "I'm not sure why
though.  I guess time will tell.  He's an eligible bachelor, so I
suppose anything is possible."

----------------------------------------------------

##Squad 51, Engine 51, child trapped.  3414 Parker Avenue, Cross
street, 212th.  Timeout :15:20.## came the call a short time later. 

Arriving on the scene, Johnny and Roy were met by the frantic mother
of a trapped little boy located inside a residence.

"Please, hurry!  You've got to help my son!  He isn't moving
anymore!" she cried.

"Ma'am, please, you've got to calm down." Johnny soothingly
said.  "Why don't you show us where he is?"

Quickly gathering their gear, Roy and Johnny followed the distraught
mother into the house.  Leading them into the family room, she
pointed towards the floor.  A small pair of sandal clad legs
hung out of what appeared to be a heating vent, approximately a foot
above the floor.  Around the vent, was a large, heavy bookshelf
full of books.  They could see telltale prints showing how the boy
had scaled the bookshelf to reach it. Lying on the ground beside 
the bookcase, was an ornate brass vent cover and a screwdriver.

"I was in the kitchen doing the dishes when I heard a thump in
here.  Johnny was supposed to be taking a nap! 
I checked on him not half an hour ago and he was asleep!"

"There's the engine," Roy said as he headed for the door.  "I'm
going to get the tools and talk to Cap, Johnny.  I'll be right back."

::Oh great, if this kid turns out to be fine, the guys are going to
have a field day with me about us having to rescue a stuck kid
with my same name.:: Johnny thought as he appraised the situation.

"Johnny!  Can you hear me? My name is Johnny, too." Johnny called out
to the boy.  Seeing a step stool nearby, he shoved it out of
the way and kneeled down, checking the pulse in the boy's leg.  
"Ma'am how old is he?" Johnny asked the mother as he felt its
quality under his fingertips.

"He is six and a half." she replied.  "Please get him out of there."

--------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
Meanwhile, back at Rampart, Joe and Dixie were already returned
to work.  Joe headed upstairs, having been called to consult 
on a case in the Neuro step-down unit. Dixie headed back to her desk 
in the ER.  

Kel was there, making notations on a chart.
"I just sent Mrs. Jackson upstairs to maternity," he
commented.  "Looks like she is going to be fine but they want to
monitor her for a day or so.  And yes, the cast should be off her 
leg by the time she has the baby."

"Poor lady.  It must be hard enough to be pregnant, let alone 
breaking your leg, too, in a fall." Dixie observed.  "By the way, 
don't forget that I'm off tomorrow.  I'm looking forward to a full day 
of shopping.  It isn't everyday a girl can look forward to being 
escorted to a fancy ball, and by a handsome prince no less. "
she grinned at him. 

Brackett was good enough to blush.

Dixie leaned closer. "You do realize we're going to have the 
entire Rampart staff and half the fire department speculating 
again about whether or not we're an 'item'." she said saucily.

Kel laughed.  "I'm glad you are looking forward to it." he
commented.  "You definitely deserve a fancy ball after all you do
for us around here.  Oh, by the way, be sure to let me know what
color dress you come up with.  A pretty lady deserves some pretty
flowers to go with them.  As for all the speculation, let them wonder!
I don't care if they think we are having a torrid affair or not.
They were going to gossip even if we never spent any time together.
Actually that probably would have made things even worse. 
Then,.. they would think we were having a wild affair while 
acting like we didn't like each other.  So,.. we might as well just spend 
our time together when we want to and hang all the gossip!" he grumbled.

"True on all counts.  I'm glad you feel that way. You are pretty important 
to me, too.  Although I do have to say one thing...There had better
not be any emergency deliveries or any other such thing this time
once we're there." Dixie stated.  "With my luck, the ball will 
end up like our lunch did last month at Manny's."

Just then, they were interrupted as the ER doors opened and a woman
entered.  She looked barely able to stand and they quickly ran to meet
her, attempting to get her into a convenient wheelchair before she
collapsed.

Barely able to speak, the woman moaned. "He's in my car.." 
Then she passed out.  She would have fallen if Kel hadn't been
there to catch her.

Dixie grabbed a gurney and they got both the woman onto it.  

Typical for the way the day had been so far, the base station 
chose that moment to start squawking.  Fortunately, at its beeping,
there appeared several other nurses and Dr. Morton.

"Here we go again!" Dixie said to no one in particular as she started
taking the fainted woman's pulse while Dr. Brackett ran outside
to the still running car.

---------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Photos: None.

***************************************************
Date: Thu, 16 Feb 2006 10:09:51 -0800 (PST) 
From: "Sam Iam" <lafddispatcher@yahoo.com>  
Subject:  The Control Factor 
 

Kel Brackett had to search only a few seconds to find the car the 
woman had spoken of. It had crashed into the wall outside of 
Emergency and was steaming from a violated radiator. He glanced 
into the back seat where a man lay sprawled only long enough to 
reassure himself that he was still breathing. "Hey,..what's the problem?"

"M--my chest.. Hurts...real bad." gasped the man. His pallor was gray 
and he was sweating profusely.

"Ok, I'm gonna get you out of here. Did you get hurt when she hit 
the wall?"

"N...no.." he moaned. "But I think ...my daughter did. She hit her 
head on the steering ...wheel." he whispered.

"Ok, I'm getting you out of here. Just let me do all of the work. The car 
might not be safe anymore."

The slight sized, sick man nodded and let Kel take him into his arms 
like a child. 

Dr. Brackett stood with his burden and moved quickly into a patch of 
sunlight and turned in a circle until he spotted a couple of hospital staffers 
arriving to work from the employee parking lot. He whistled. "Hey! I need 
some help here with this man!"

The young intern and an orderly ran the remaining distance to the emergency
entrance, dropping their books and bagged lunches, and took the gasping man 
from Kel. "What happened?" they asked, rushing to support the man's head and 
airway so he could continue to breathe without any problems in their arms.

"Possible cardiac. Looks like a relative panicked and smacked their car into 
the wall trying to find some fast help. Bring him inside.. Dixie'll tell you 
where to put him. I'll be right in. Max, get him on some O2 a.s.a.p. and inform 
Joe Early. I gotta handle this car first."

Kel paused only briefly to watch the two staffers carry away the older man.

Then the dark haired doctor leaned down to shut off the running motor. He 
kicked the gear into neutral so he could push the overheating Oldsmobile into 
the center of the ambulance lane away from the building. Sure enough, there 
was leaking gasoline underneath where the car had been.  He barely had it
a safe distance away from a parked ambulance and a squad when it burst
into flames under the hood.  Brackett snatched down the fire alarm lever
next to the ambulance doors.

A few seconds later, 99's paramedics, whose squad it was in the receiving 
space, dashed out at the sound of the alarm. They immediately ran for the 
hospital's exterior glass encased hose, giving out the situation they were seeing
through their HTs to L.A. as they turned off the auto-alarm with a jacket key 
so a hospital evacuation wouldn't start unnecessarily. One of them shouted to 
Brackett. "Anybody inside of there?"

"Not anymore." Kel sighed, resting in a crouch leaning over his knees. "There's
some spilled gas on the ground all the way up to the Cadillac ambulance parked
next to your squad. I had to push the car back out of range."

"Good thing you did, doc. If this explodes, it'll only take out itself now."

"Need anything else?" panted the doctor.

"Nah, we got it from here. Go treat the people who own this car. The rest of our 
station's only a minute away." said one of the fire paramedics. "Most likely, we'll 
have this out before our engine arrives on scene." he told Kel, pouring hose water 
over the engine his partner had exposed by popping the smoking hood open 
with a crowbar from their nearby squad.

In an angry growl, the car exploded, chasing Brackett into the safety of the hospital's
entryway. The firemen, were fine, having known instinctively where to stand
to wait it out to attack it afterwards with the charged emergency fire hose.

Dixie noticed the orange flare from where she was taking a blood pressure on
the woman, who was still unconscious. "What was that, Kel?"

"Nothing we need to worry about. How's she doing?" he said as the two of
them began to push her gurney toward the same treatment room as the man's.

"BP's low and staying there. Too long for just a faint. Did she hit her head?"

"Yes. She decided to argue with a wall on her way in here."

"She what?"

"Never mind. Let's get cracking. The man she was with's a possible MI. And
he's even more critical than she is.  Any sign of Joe down here yet?"

"Yeah, I saw him go inside the man's room a few seconds ago. He's
got an intern and an orderly with him, I think." Dixie said, reaching down under
the gurney for an oxygen mask to start on the girl. 

"You're right about who else is with him. Those two, I flagged down from the 
parking lot." Doctor Brackett said as he connected the mask's tubing to
the oxygen tank latched at his end by her feet. "It's high flow, Dixie."

"I'll chart that just as soon as we get back in control of things here, Kel."
Then she wrinkled her nose. "Are you ok? You smell like a barbeque."

"I've got nothing that a long, hot soapy shower won't cure." he said, wiping
his sooty hands along his white jacket's front to clean them enough so a future pair
gloves would slide on a little easier. "I had to play fireman for a bit out there with
this girl's father. It made me glad I'm just a simple city doctor." he said, keeping
a grip on her wrist to monitor its weak, rapid pulse. 

"Fireman? Kel,..what happened out there?" Dixie chided.

"I'll tell you about all of it...later. That's if, we ever get another break in today."

The door of treatment room five soon opened after they pushed the woman's
gurney against it. They found they had walked straight into a full cardiac 
arrest response on Kel's man from the car with Joe Early orchestrating 
things efficiently at the head of it. "Ok, zap him again..." Early said to
the attending intern standing next to him.

Kel and Dixie started right in caring for their injured girl positioned
next to the man once the outer door snapped back shut behind them.

"Any recapture, Joe?" Brackett shouted over the aggressive CPR and
noisy ventilations being given to the man.

"Not yet. Stop CPR. I'm going in with an eppy IC." he told the orderly and
intern.

"Let me get her squared away with finding a decent reason for her syncope and 
I'll come over there to help." Brackett offered as he checked the daughter's pupils
with his penlight.

"What happened to you? You're filthy." Joe asked, finishing his IC injection 
of epinephrine into the man's heart. "Ok, begin CPR again.." he nodded at the 
orderly.

"I decided to try out Roy and Johnny's other job description outside a few 
minutes ago. I can't say I like that kind of work. I didn't feel in control of anything
out there. Not at all."

"And you think we all feel that way in here today, Kel? You'd be wrong. What's her 
story?" asked Early, as he watched the intern hit the charge button to get the 
defibrillator paddles ready to fire off again.

"A full blown case of daughter panic with a little MVA to spice things up a bit."

"Oh, so that was the fire alarm I heard going off...Don't tell me. The wall parked
the car for her." said Joe. 

"You got it." said Kel, checking out the girl's neck and head. He found a small pool
of blood under the skin just above her forehead under the hair line. "Looks she's got
a front impact concussion. But there's no fracture here." he said, palpating 
the area gently. "Dixie...."

"Already ordered. A full upper C-spine and skull series." McCall answered from
the black lab phone. 

"Ok, is everybody clear? 400 watt seconds.." Early said calmly. Then he 
delivered his fourth defibrillation attempt on the girl's dad after taking the paddles
the intern handed out to him once more.

Shock! And the man's body jumped on the bed before it settled down again.

The intubated father's EKG wavered into sputtering life with a slow rate of
thirty. Early snapped out his orders. "Max, get an Isoproterenol Drip going into that
I.V. Dixie, could you call for a respirator for him? He's not picking up that part of
things yet." he said, listening to the father's chest for lung sounds not
being made by an ambu bag. "On second thought, I don't think he's gonna do any
breathing today. I'm reading a third degree right bundle branch block creeping in
on his monitor."

"I'll get a bird right away, Joe." replied Dixie. "CCU for him or surgery?"

"CCU. He's perfusing well enough for me for the moment. I want to get his strength
up a bit before cracking into his chest."

"I'll take a surgical ward for my gal if her x-rays don't pan out." Kel volunteered.

"I'll reserve one." McCall nodded. "Labs, Kel?" she said, looking at him.

"The works." Brackett answered.

"For dad, too." Early piped up. "We didn't have time to get any done before he 
arrested on us." said Joe.

"I'll do them myself." Dixie said. "I'm faster." she said seriously.

--------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
Out in the receiving alcove, it was just as busy.
Doctor Morton leaned into the biocom. 

"Unit calling in, please repeat." he said, thumbing the radio's talk button.
 
Chet Kelly's voice came over the frequency. ##Rampart, this is Squad 51.##

"Go ahead, 51." said Mike as he pulled out a notepad from his pocket.

##Rampart, we've a child approximately six years old trapped in a heating
duct. He's unconscious and still partially inaccessible to our paramedics at
this time. We have rudimentary vital signs. We've found a popliteal pulse of 
142. We're assuming that he has adequate respirations. The boy's color 
in his lower extremities remain shades of fair to good without strongly evidenced 
cyanosis. Please stand by for more information.##

"10-4, 51. Standing by.." sighed Morton. He reached over and pulled up a stool
and tried not to look up at the chaotic emergency ward bustling around him
through the glass windows.

-----------------------------------------------------------------------------

Photo:  Joe, an intern, Johnny and others working a code in
             a treatment room.

Photo :  An animation of a burning car.

Photo:  Dixie, talking to a hastily washing Kel in a room.

Photo:  Animation of a real EKG monitor in V-fib.

Photo:  Chet Kelly on the biophone.

Photo: L.A. Headquarters front door.

***************************************************
From: "andacory" <andacory@yahoo.com> 
Date: Sat Feb 18, 2006  5:16 pm 
Subject: Spelunking For Children... 

 
Johnny Gage looked up as Roy returned
with the gang and a slew of manual extrication tools.

"How's he doing?" Roy asked, pulling off his helmet.
He got out a thigh blood pressure cuff to take 
a quick reading off one of the boy's exposed legs.

Johnny glanced up, very aware of the fact that the boy's 
mother was watching and hearing every word. "He's still 
unconscious, but I'm not finding any obvious bleeding from 
anywhere that I can reach. Don't worry, ma'am. We get children 
out of tight spots like this all the time. The only thing that makes 
your son's situation different from others is that ..." he grunted 
while he pushed and prodded around the child's limp legs.."an 
application of soap's not gonna be the obvious answer for getting 
him outta here. I'm afraid we're gonna haveta make due with just a 
Phillips screwdriver." he said with a grin, holding up the one the 
boy had used to twist open one side of the heat vent cover.

The mother laughed a short nervous laugh and sat down
onto the bed next to the bookshelf. "Johnny is just like his father.
Always tinkering with things around the house. But this..." she
said, her composure breaking again into sobs."..is something
else."  

Cap knelt by her and smiled. "It's ok to be a little upset by all this.
But my men and I will have some answers soon about how he got this 
way and how he's doing now. But first, there are some questions you 
need to answer for us.."

Roy stepped right into the medical history opening. "Does Johnny have
any illnesses or pre-existing medical conditions that might be causing
this unconsciousness? Any allergies?.. Is he on any medications or
has he been sick or hurt recently?"

"No.. no. Nothing. The only thing I can think of is that he's 
autistic. He never gets into anything that would be bad for him.
At least, not intentionally. He always listens to what my husband and I
tell him very closely. Only this time, I think his overwhelming curiosity 
about mechanical things got him into this trouble..." she sobbed.

Roy looked up. "Johnny. 90/52. Pressure's normal. Ma'am, is he 
severely autistic?"

The mother looked uncomfortable. "Well..he's not bad. M-maybe
moderately according to his doctors." she shrugged helplessly with
more than a little embarrassment. 

"It's nothing to be ashamed of." Roy smiled. "I've a neighbor who's
daughter has some autism at about the same level. She's the best painter
I've ever seen. I have one of her landscapes hanging in my living room."

"Oh?" sniffed the mother. "How old is she?"

"Only about a month or two older than your son is here. And her condition 
doesn't effect anything she's truly interested in. Johnny seems to be very 
handy for his age with these tools. Maybe giving him his own garage 
workshop after today'll keep him from exploring the ventilation ducts." 
DeSoto said, helping Johnny unscrew the outer rim of the vent.

"That was my husband's idea, too. If only I had listened.." she sobbed.

Gage motioned for Chet to give him a flowing oxygen tube without
a mask on it. This he shoved under the boy's shirt back through a gap
in the intricate brasswork mesh and fed it further until the end of the tube 
thrust out around the boy's collar to poke against the child's cheek. "Ma'am. 
Johnny's doing fine for us so far. It's probably a simple reason why he's 
out cold like this.. " Johnny said. "He might have gotten scared a bit at 
being jammed in here so tight. He could have suddenly discovered 
some claustrophobia he didn't know about before and just fainted. 
His vital signs so far, are matching that profile."

"That might be true.  I.. I.. don't like small spaces much myself."

"At any rate, I'm not worried quite so much about his condition as I am 
about how we're gonna save all your ductwork getting him outta here." 
Johnny smiled.

"Please. Tear away. My husband will have a fit about having to replaster 
the wall. But if Johnny helps him, some of the sting will work out of having 
to do the repair."

"Now that's what I call being optimistic, ma'am." said Cap kindly.
"This probably isn't as dire an emergency as you first thought it was.
Kids getting stuck in weird places always looks scarier than they sometimes 
actually are. I think we can get him out of there without demolishing anything."

"I dearly hope so, captain." said the mother.

Even after the screws were removed, the venting cover still 
didn't pull free, even with an encouraging crowbar.

"Man,.." Gage grunted. "This is really nailed down here."

"Yeah, but I'd hate to cut this grill. It looks like an antique." Roy
replied. Then he reconsidered. "Maybe there's another way to
approach this.." He looked up. "Cap?"

"Yeah?"

"In split level ramblers like this, aren't the heating ducts built double 
wide for better air exchange when the furnace kicks in?"

"I'm pretty sure they are. What are you thinking of?" Hank asked.

"Maybe we can get through the vent opposite this one from the room 
behind this wall. We might be able to spot the rest of him and figure out 
how to get him out without damaging the ventilation system unnecessarily." 
DeSoto speculated. "I'd hate to cut into things when we might not have to."

"Give it a try." Hank said, "Marco, Stoker. Go with him with the small tools. 
He's gonna need another screwdriver most likely."

"Ma'am?" Roy asked. "Could you show us the way to the other vent?"

"Oh.. uh, sure... That would be the master bedroom. I'll show you."
she shouted. "Johnny...Mommy will be right back. Please wake up for me. 
Mommy's so worried about you."  Then she bravely left her son in
Johnny, Chet and Cap's care. 


Meanwhile, Kelly gave Dr. Morton an update. "Rampart, we have more
on the little boy." Then he read the notes Roy had written down onto
his notepad. "Unconsciousness remains but he's got an oxygen supply
near him. Blood pressure's 90/52, obtained from a leg. Pulse has now 
settled to 70 and it's regular. There are no signs of active bleeding or injury. 
Uh,..another footnote. The child's mother says he has moderate autism."

##10-4, 51. Fear and anxiety stemming from his autism may have 
precipitated a syncopal episode.## came Morton's voice over
the biophone. ##Let's hold off starting an I.V. until you've freed the child 
and have assessed him more throughly while out in the open. His vital signs 
don't suggest the need for aggressive therapy yet beyond preserving that 
good breathing source of oxygen that you've already set into place.... 51, 
when he's free, see if you can wake him up by the usual means. If he 
doesn't regain consciousness quickly or easily, transport him as soon 
as possible. Otherwise, if he appears normal and oriented times three to
his normal baseline, advise his mother to take him in to see a family 
physician for a follow through exam TODAY. Make sure it's not tommorrow 
or some other time when she decides to go.##

Gage nodded his understanding and Chet relayed his response verbally.
Then he set down the phone and knelt down next to Cap to help him
aim a flashlight deep into the vent to see if they could see anything of the 
boy's face to judge how his true skin color appeared now that he was breathing 
in pure oxygen.

Johnny tried a pain pinch in the fleshy part of the boy's calf. Little Johnny 
flinched and moaned slightly, jerking that leg. "Well, looks like he's waking 
up a bit." Gage grinned. "Hey, Johnny? Can you hear me?" he called out, 
rolling his eyes at Kelly in advance of his reaction.

"Johnny? You mean, this boy is named Johnny, too?" Chet chuckled when 
he heard the name.

"Shush, Kelly. Hush up and help Gage with him." Cap said no nonsense. 
"Your voice carries better."

Chet began shouting right along with the paramedic. But little Johnny didn't 
move until a second pain pinch was applied as encouragement. His eyes 
never opened. Nor did he articulate anything new past a quiet moan.

"Ok, that's all, Chet. Leave him alone. I got my estimate. He's sitting at about 
Glasgow ten." said Gage sharply.

Kelly ignored his coworker. 
"Roy? Can you hear me? The boy's waking up a little over here."

------------------------------------------------------------------------------------ 
In the master bedroom, Roy had the heating grill off. His head was stuck 
through the opening and a flashlight's beam was fully lighting up the small 
space. "I hear you! And I can see him. Looks like it's big enough for me to 
get inside. Did he just move his legs a bit?"

"Yeah.." Gage shouted back. "Glasgow 10."

"Better and better. I'm going in!" DeSoto yelled in warning.

Sliding on his stomach and inching forward with his toes, Roy buried
himself in the vent. Then his fingers reached the boy's collar. "I got him! 
Taking him out my way. Let go of his legs!"

Stoker, next to Roy, grinned and said. "I'll go get the O2."

"Wait on that, he's ok. I'll bring him back over there." Roy said, leaning 
his face near little Johnny's to double check his breathing status. On a 
thought, he checked the boy's pupils with his penlight. "They're dilated, 
Johnny! And there's no bleeding anywhere just like we figured!" he yelled 
through the jammed grill where the others were huddled. Then he mumbled 
to Stoker and Marco. "Classic sign of a recent blackout, these eyes of his. 
Ok, guys, haul me out of here. He's in my arms.."

And soon, he was in his mother's and stretched out on the boy's own 
quilt in the original bedroom under a richly flowing oxygen mask. It wasn't 
any time at all before the challenged child was asking her questions about 
the nightmare he thought he had dreamed in the dark, stifling hot cave that 
he had found under the bookshelf.

Station 51 left soon afterwards, without their patient.

----------------------------------------------------------------------------- 

Photos: None. 
 
**************************************************
From: "patti keiper" <pattik1@hotmail.com> 
Date: Mon Feb 20, 2006  6:38 pm 
Subject: Like A Pride Of Lions... 


The wonderous smells from a well cooked meal permeated
Station 51's kitchen and the primary cook, Chet, stirred some
mash potatoes into consistency in a bowl as fast as he could 
whip his wooden spoon.

The others, gathered around Kelly in a hungry circle, waiting
for the spuds eagerly.

Gage made a snatch for the bowl and got it. "These are done
already." he pounced and ducked with it to the table and
the others leaped just as fast into their own chairs to eat.

"Hey! I haven't tasted the seasoning yet.." Chet protested.

"We can season our own." said Marco.

The bowl of potatoes shifted from hand to eager hand as it
was dished out.

Chet reluctantly untied his apron and sat down. He frowned when
the potato bowl finally got to his seat, empty. "What about me, guys?
These are gone. Do I look like I need to lose some weight here?"
he complained.

"Yes.." said Gage, stuffing his mouth. He immediately snatched up
a water glass to down when his mouthful of steak proved too hot to 
chew. "Ahh.."

Cap immediately glowered. "Gage, quit burning yourself into a still
alarm. Eat slower. I wanna get through a full meal and dessert once
and for all,.. and today's the day!" he mumbled through a slice
of well buttered Italian bread.

Johnny ignored his superior, recognizing a non threatening threat
when he heard it. "Oh, sorry, Chet. Here you go. Have some of mine."
and he forked over the tiniest mound of potatoes onto Kelly's plate.

Chet didn't even blink an eye. When Johnny was still busy reaching
for a saucer of mushrooms, Kelly made off with Gage's entire lunch
plate, trading it for his potato-less own, and dashed off with it to 
reseat himself next to Cap for what he considered the ultimate protection.
::No one ever tries a retaliation around Hank while he's ravenous.:: Chet
thought gleefully, shovelling in his newly stolen food.

Roy grinned when Johnny started cutting into the steak in front of him
without realizing that he'd been victimized. "Johnny."

"What?! Can't you see I'm eating here?" Gage insisted, chipmunk cheeked
and chewing desperately hard in an attempt to fill his gnawing stomach
as quickly as possible like everybody else was doing.

"Try looking down." said Stoker, chuckling.

Johnny did, and immediately started sputtering. "Chet.. now give it--"
he broke off when Cap fired off the look of death with no bones about
it. "I - I mean.. uh...pass the steak sauce." he wilted verbally, even while
his eyes shot flames.

"Sure, Gage. No problem. Here you go.." said Chet straight faced, "And
here's some extra napkins, too, pal." he added with a smirk, ducking around
Cap's larger shoulder.

Johnny all but shredded them out of Chet's hand.

Cap tuned out the reaction, having gotten the quieter conversation he
demanded while he ended starvation.

Marco ladled out some green beans for Gage. "Here, Johnny. Have my 
portion of these. At least, they're fiberous. I like potatoes better anyway."

"So do I..." hissed Gage from the corner of his mouth. Then softer, "Thanks."
"I'll get even with him later."

"There might not be a later if you get blocked up on that whole shitake." Roy said.
"Cut it up already."

"Why don't you just mind y--" Gage immediately piped and his hands flew 
to his throat.

Cap's head snapped up. "Gaagggee, are you choking on me?" he growled.
"What part of 'no still alarms' at the lunch table don't you understand?!"

Roy smacked Johnny's back over his lungs with a firm whack that cleared 
him out violently and the offending fungus sailed clear over the table and 
across the room. Henry's beefy head shot up from the couch and intercepted 
it in midair gleefully as a token handout.

"... I..got..the..hint..clearly, ..Cap..." Johnny rasped hoarsely as he coughed
to find his wind again. "I'm..*cough* fine.." he peeped, downing the last of his 
water.

"Good, now shut up and eat." Hank said, tucking his napkin neatly at the collar
so he wouldn't soil it with sour cream.

Chet snorted. "Aw, Roy. Why'd have to go and save him for? If Gage kicked off, 
there would have been more food for the rest of us guys."

"You got plenty enough already." Johnny said, feeling his neck for damage.

Hank instantly dished out discipline. "Kelly, you just lost your part of the apple 
pie to Gage here for wisemouthing."

"Aw, Cap..I--"

"Doyouwantafullmopassignmentwithnolunchinexactlytwoseconds?" Hank
gushed lightly with some dangerous speed.

Kelly's face flushed bright red just a little bit faster than his lips as they
clicked shut.

Gage grinned. "Cap..." he said with admiration. "You gotta teach me that dressing
down wither real soon. If I'm gonna be making Cap when you get promoted to
the chief's spot, I'd better be ready to handle these turk--"

"Who said I'm leaving the department?" Hank asked matter of factly, letting
his knife sharp glare at Chet fall away.

The gang moused down.

Roy broke the pregnant pause. "Well, Cap. It's not exactly a secret that you've
been studying from manuals none of us have ever seen before."

"You know about that?" Cap asked sheepishly.

"Yes.." said absolutely everyone.

"What gave me away?"

Marco lifted his head from blowing on his too hot cup of coffee. "We can't 
sleep somedays without hearing your snoring, Cap." Lopez shrugged.
"On those days, we usually wake up and find that you've gone into the 
office."

It was Cap's turn to blush. "I do not snore."

Henry, from the couch, barked in betraying negation.

Hank lowered his eyebrows, "Oh... I do. Uh, ok. Geez you two.." he said
pinning a stare at Roy and Johnny accusingly. "You're both paramedics.
Why don't you ever flip me over or something to stop me from doing it?"

"We're usually too tired to, Cap." sighed Johnny. "Putting pillows over
our heads is far easier than braving the chill in our underwear just to 
get up to correct your noisy airway."

"Huh.." grunted Chet. "Don't they have nose tape nowadays for dealing 
with that kind of thing?" he said, scraping his plate clean of the last of
the mushroom gravy with a soup spoon.

"Well, why didn't any of you tell me that I had a problem at night?" Hank
asked.

"It wasn't erotic dreams mumbling or anything to tease you about. So why
bother?" Kelly said.

"I do not have erotic dreams."

Henry wailed one out again, this time, two times louder. 

The rest of the gang stayed politely silent, giving their entire attentions
to clearing their divested plates from the table.

Only Roy met his eyes sympathetically. "We're all men, Cap." And then
he got up to help wash the dishes. "It's no biggie."

"Oh, yes it is." said Chet sotto voce. But no one heard him.

Gage laid out the still warm apple pie with a flourish
with a pair of red checkered pot holders and started cutting it
into six pieces. Then he checked himself. "Oh, that's right. I'm
supposed to cut only five pieces now outta this." he said straight
faced.

Chet sighed. "Ok, Gage. Touche. Now let's talk about our little 
becoming the-new-cap-of-51's-competition in earnest, shall we?"

Roy winced in embarrassment for Stanley out loud. "Guys, he's
not going anywhere yet. The tests are still a week away for
just the preliminaries of battalion chief consideration."

Chet wiped his mouth and reached over for Marco's coffee pot.
"Well, you know what younger pushier male lions do whenever 
the dominant one in the pride shows even the slightest hint of aging." 

"Uh oh." Stoker trickled.

"I beg your pardon." Cap scoffed in surprise.

Chet eyes got big when he realized that his mouth had led him
astray once again. He immediately grovelled. "Well, I uh, I..uh.
Cap, I didn't mean it quite ...the way things sounded.. I
was speaking figuratively... hehehe, of course..." and he sank
deeply down into his chair.

"Front and center.. Right now." Cap said, getting up in stiff anger,
stabbing his butter knife very near Chet's vulnerable spread fingers.
"Marco. Go grab both of our Manikin Andys. ASAP."

Kelly yelped and tucked them into his lap. "Oh..boy. Cap..what're you
gonna do with me?" he peeped.

Hank's eyes narrowed and the guys couldn't tell if he was actually
being serious...or not. "You wanna challenge me for my job?" he said, 
not using his greater height to press into his much smaller man, at all.

"Uh, no, Cap. Uh, that's not how it's done I thought. I thought that HR had
to--"

"Directly?!" Hank roared quietly. "Ok... you're on. Let's do it."

Chet's eyes got real big in real fear. "Let's ...do...what?"

"On the floor. On your knees. Right now." he said cracking his knuckles
meaningfully.

"Cap. You don't mean to do that..." Stoker said, catching on instantly.

"Oh yes I do.." chorused Cap, taking the place opposite Chet in a like
position. "Marco lay them out right here." he said smacking the ground.

Lopez grunted with the heavy weight of the two manikins locked against
his chest with laced fingers. He dropped them and they fell on Kelly.

Chet flailed a bit until he got them off. "What's the meaning of this?"

Roy and Johnny started grinning and they began to help turn the Andys
until both dummies were lying parallel to each other on their backs.

"I had to go through it when I got engineer, Chet." said Mike Stoker.

"Had to go through with what?" Kelly said suspiciously.

Hank cracked his knuckles again and said. "You got three seconds,
Chet. You wanna play games? Fine. Go longer than me and I'll
help you study for the captain's test even before I get my promotion
paperwork in order."

"Uh,,. I don't understand.." Kelly murmured, feeling his knees press
into the hard floor. 

Henry thumped down from his cushion sympathetically and came 
over to lick Chet's face.

Hank met Chet's eyes and held them. Then he gestured. "Your man
right there is in full arrest." Cap said, poking Chet's Andy in the chest.
"This guy's mine. He's got the same problem and the squad's ETA is 
ten minutes. You have no gear whatsoever to work him past your bare 
fingers. Got it now?"

Chet squeaked. "Uh,, this is a CPR exercise scenario?"

"You bet your a**." Cap said no nonsense. "Gage, give us ten seconds
so we both can start in fairly. Chet, you wanted to test yourself against
me saying I'm the weaker one? You're on." And he ripped his manikin's 
snapped shirt open. "This exercise will include all the necessary 
rescue breathing, too." Hank glowered. Then he nodded at Johnny.
"An inadequate chest rise will count as a failure. So will
mis-counting or missing any compressions."

"10...." Johnny began.

Chet blithered. "Cap, should we be tiring ourselves out like this?"

"9..." said Roy, too, joining in with Gage.

Kelly went on, "I mean, what if we get a huge fire call to go on? Neither
one of us will be in any shape to even pick up an empty hose.."

"8...7...6... ! " chimed the rest of the guys. 

"Are you saying that you're too out of shape to handle your firefighter's
position, Chet? Hmm, this might put a different light on things entirely. 
Nothing that a tiny board of inquiry can't investigate in more detail.."

Chet gulped.

"...3....2.."

"Don't miss your mark.." Hank hissed.

" 1..!  Go!" hollered the gang, getting into things big time.

Kelly sweated and bent down to listen in a breathing check.
Henry bent down, too, with all his bad breath glory. "Eeoow.
Henry, ya big bum.. Get outta my face!"

Henry just wagged his tail a little harder.

Chet forced himself to begin his mouth to mouth, under duress,
miserably, and with high fear of falling behind Cap's own dummy
CPR. 

Chet was feeling for a "pulse" when Henry laid down contentedly
right on top of Chet's manikin's lower stomach. "Cap.. look
what he's--"

"Consider him a piece of fallen debris, Kelly. Work around it!"
he said, groping his Andy's neck for the required ten seconds 
monitoring.

Kelly whined. "He's gonna make chest rise harder for me."

"Too bad.." Gage whispered. "Pretend it's a developing
pneumothorax.." and he started laughing to beat the band.

Compressions began in earnest at 100 a minute and both firemen
worked in perfect concert to each other. 

Five long minutes passed under the din of the gang's cheering
and enthusiastic egging. Then Cap issued a comment. 
"Just like arm wrestling contests, eh, Chet?" he said giving
his Andy a full set of breaths. "How are your butt cheeks 
faring right now, hmm? Are they burning yet? If they are, 
that means you're really FAR outta shape, pal.." he mocked.

::Oh sh*t..:: Chet thought as he felt a bead of sweat splatter
off his face to land right in the most inconvenient place in
the world. Right on Andy's rubber sternum where it posed a
slipping danger. Kelly wiped it off with a calf during his next
breath cycle. ::Why did I open my big fat mouth?:: he gasped,
beginning to feel another kind of burn from lack of air deep in
his lungs.

The CPR war went on..  And on.. until..

------------------------------------------------------------

Photos: None.

**************************************************
From: Jeff Seltun <finiterider@yahoo.com> 
Date: Thu Feb 23, 2006  4:07 am 
Subject: "Watch Me Pull A Rabbit Out Of My Hat." 
 

Henry suddenly looked up with his ears perking back towards 
the station house.

He barked three times in a new urgency that was very different 
from the kind of excitement that he had shown during the CPR 
contest.

"Visitor's doorbell." Mike Stoker said.

Cap broke off immediately and got to his feet."Which one?"

"The front office's entrance by the street. He's looking that way."

"I'll get it." said Roy and he jogged off with Henry trucking alongside of 
him with a firm doggy determination.

"We'll go, too." said Marco about himself and Stoker.
They disappeared after Roy. 

"I don't know about you, but I got thirsty just watching you two. What do 
you say I pour a pair of tall ice teas with lemon for the both of ya." Gage 
said. "I'll leave them on the kitchen table after I check out what the buzzer's 
all about." and he ran off after the others.

Chet covered his true out of breath state by laughing. "Henry's better 
than L.A. for intercepting incoming traffic, don't you think, Cap?" he 
said, not getting up from where he was kneeling on the ground. He was
practically folding over his middle in an effort to loosen cramps.

Ruefully, Cap offered him a hand up. "Come on. Let's see go what the 
problem is along with the rest of them."

Kelly allowed himself to be pulled off the ground. "Thanks.. *gasp*.. 
Why aren't you puffing yet, Cap? You were pulling mean sets there
same as me."

"I'm a good faker, Chet." Hank said, finally gaping his mouth to suck in all 
the air he could get in a few cleansing breaths. "Here's.....*gasp*.. some advice
for .....you. A good captain never lets his men see the full extent of ........how 
tired he is after doing something having anything to do with the business."

"But, Cap, you're letting me see it."

"That's because I like ya, Chet. You don't give ground under pressure, 
in spite of how you might act outwardly." he grinned. He looked behind him and 
started walking as fast as he could for the bay. "It's too quiet over there 
for just some casual housecall. My sixth sense is starting to fire off big time here."

"Mine is, too." said Chet, following, rubbing away the goose bumps dotting his
breeze chilling skin.

---------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Roy started running for the window framed entryway next to the garage door 
when he heard a constant car horn blowing. It cut off alarmingly. DeSoto got
there just in time to see a frantic woman pounding on the glass. 

"Please... Please! Help us.." she cried when he jerked the door open and 
propped it to stay that way with a loose brick from the flower bed.

"What's the problem, ma'am?"

"It's my husband." she said, trying to calm herself down in his steadying grip. 
"He's having some bad chest pain. I - I was driving him to the doctor's office 
when he began throwing up and sweating. It's not the indigestion he says it is.." 
she told him.

"Cap!.." DeSoto shouted. "There's a medical situation out here. One victim!"

Gage skidded on the floor after punching open the main doors. "I'll pull the
squad forward into the drive out until it's out by you, Roy. Is he conscious?"

Roy looked over the woman's head and saw a fifty something year old man 
sitting in the passenger seat with a worried look on his face. " Yes!" he 
shouted to Johnny.Then he focused his attention back on his panicking 
visitor. "Ok...It's all right. Why don't you have a seat on this stone bench 
right here by the flag pole." 

She was almost beyond listening as she let herself be guided to sit. "I had to 
do something fast. I knew I couldn't wait to reach the doctor's office even 
though it's only three minutes away.."

"Ma'am, you did the right thing by stopping when you did. We can take care of 
him right now." Roy said soothingly with a calming smile. In the background,
he could hear Cap in the communications alcove calling out a still alarm.

"I figured that you, over anyone else nearby, probably could. My mother told 
me that you guys have specialized doctor training or something similar to
that." The woman startled when Henry interceded his wet nose under her
hand for a pet. 

"Yes, ma'am, I'm one of those trained as a rescue paramedic with the department. 
I'm gonna go have a look at him right now, ok? Good ol' Henry here will keep ya 
company along with Fireman Lopez, all right?" DeSoto said, seeing Marco 
taking a seat next to her. 

She nodded quickly, her tears just beginning to come.

Roy pulled open the passenger car door and knelt in front of the man. "How 
are you doing, sir?" He saw that the man was ashen and drenched in a cold 
sweat in spite of the heat of the afternoon.

"Not... so hot, fireman. I've.. had this.." he winced in a spasm that made Roy
reach out to open his collar and undo the man's belt for breathing ease. 
"..pain for about forty five minutes."

"What does it feel like?" Roy asked, glancing over as Johnny swiftly parked
the squad parallel with the car with its lights turned on so the ambulance would
be able to spot them better from the road. He heard Chet Kelly and Captain 
Stanley begin to break out a full array of gear onto the pavement next to him.
Bending down, Roy set the emergency brake on the manual stick driven car
for added safety.

Mike Stoker opened the driver's side of the car and crawled in with the resuscitator
case. He unlatched it and got a nonrebreather mask going for Roy to use
as soon as he had his initial impression.

"It's bad.. Crushing me.. Right under the breastbone."

"Does it radiate anywhere else? Mike, go ahead and put him on that. 15 liters."

"No." replied the distressed man. "I've had these chest pains before. The docs
at Rampart performed one of them angioplastys on me nine months ago.....I
don't understand it. Why am I having problems now? They tell me I had a very
easy rehab."

"I don't know the answer to that question, but a doctor soon will.  We'll hook
you up to a monitor and let him take a look at what your heart's doing to figure
out why you're in so much pain now. Just breathe deep and regular. This
oxygen will help you feel a little better." Roy took the slumped man's pulse 
at the wrist and found that it was very slow. "Johnny. I've got severe bradycardia. 
His shirt's saturated but he's got no jugular distention or any difficulty breathing."
he said, opening the man's shirt. 

"I'll tell him.." Gage said, holding up the phone receiver from the biocom.
"I've got Brackett on the line."

The husband tried to relax his clenching fists. "The....only other problem I had
was some high cholesterol. The day I heard that test result, I started eating that
Promise margarine right away." he chuckled. "But I've never felt pain like this 
before. It's a ten outta ten, mac.." He stiffened in another surge, gripping his
chest with both hands. "I was ....dragging the garbage cans out to the street when
all of this came on.." he said through his oxygen mask. He didn't even notice Stoker
climb into the back seat to keep tabs on his carotid around the headrest.

Cap got busy pulling the leads out of the Tetronix case. He tried to apply the
electrodes using the manual pads but they wouldn't stick to the man's chest.
He ran to go get a rag from the mop closet to dry off his skin.

"Johnny.. Hand me a benzene swab so I can dry him off a little faster here 
until Cap gets back." DeSoto said reaching behind himself with a look
for the foil package.

A groan from the man under his other hand drew back his attention. The sick
husband's body had arched up into an active shudder. Suddenly, he fell limp
and became breathless. Stoker cried, "I'm getting no carotid, Roy."

Together, he and Mike pulled the man out of the car and laid him out
gently on the driveway, in a patch of full sunlight, on his back. Cap shadowed 
them with the oxygen equipment he had snatched from the car seat.

"Alphonse!" said the wife as she tried to get up. 

Marco grabbed her firmly by the shoulders and prevented it. "Easy.. let's keep 
giving them room to work. They're going to do everything they possibly can for
him, ma'am."

"Cap. Let's skip these." DeSoto said about the manual pads. "Let's use
the combination ones from the monitor." He quickly intercepted the clump of 
stickers and wires that Johnny had already pulled out of the EKG pouch. "Mike?"

"I got him.." said Stoker as he began CPR. Chet Kelly started active ventilations 
using the heavy, black rubber demand valve after he had pulled the other clear 
oxygen mask off.

"Rampart.. Our M.I.'s gone into full arrest..." Roy heard Johnny say behind him.

DeSoto sighed when the pads proved to be gummy enough to stick to the
husband's clammy skin with good contact points on all three leads. He accepted
passive paddles from Stanley who had tackled the defibrillator setup after being
shooed away. "Ok, Stoker, Chet. Hold off for five seconds and let me scope him. 
Turn the screen so Johnny can see it, too." Roy told them as he laid uncharged 
paddles on the man's dripping ribcage.

"Yeah," Johnny agreed while still on the phone line. "Rampart, this will be
lead II." Gage leaned forward from where he was writing down doctor's orders 
and he got his EKG interpretation faster than Roy could tell him about it. "We
have a confirmed ventricular fibrillation. I'm sending you a strip now." he
said turning a dial on the biophone's communications panel.

##Defibrillate, 51.## ordered Brackett over the phone receiver, loud enough
for the rest of the firemen to hear.

Hank hit the orange charge button and called out the rising wattage. "One, two...
three,..four hundred watt seconds."

Roy yelled out, "Clear!" and shocked the man firmly. The erratic bouncing line jolted
in a snarled peak but then fell ominously level again. "Nothing. Continue CPR."
he ordered. Stoker and Kelly immediately started in again with their care.

"Charge it again, Hank." DeSoto whispered hoarsely as he regelled the paddles 
himself by using some teeth to re-unscrew the lubricant tube's cap. "Make sure his
EKG wires aren't touching the car. Henry's sniffing around in there."

"They're not....Henry, get out of there.." Cap hissed at the dog tail he could
see waving through the window next to his ear.

The basset hound dutifully returned back to Marco and sat down uneasily by the 
wife's side. His instincts were telling him to guard the fallen man.

Captain Stanley got his final number. "Ok, 400.."

Roy got his clearance and delivered a second shock. The dying rhythm rose up
at the energy jolt but otherwise didn't respond as he was desperately hoping that
it would. He could still see V-fib on the monitor. "Going for a third, Johnny. He's 
still in V-fib." he announced in a update without turning around to look at Gage. 
"It's quickly becoming a fine one."

Hank sighed as he held the I.V. bag that Johnny was swiftly setting up. 
::Fine V-fib? With that, he's nearly asystole with hardly any cardiac activity. 
That's always real bad.:: Cap thought as he spared the wife a sympathetic
look. He could see Lopez offering her an accepted comforting hug. 

Kelly anticipated Johnny, and in between breath to compression pauses, 
he switched out the positive pressure valve for a gentler transparent green 
latex ambu bag. He pointed to the array of wrapped endotrach tubes in the 
case with an elbow and Gage answered his unspoken question. 
"He's an eight French."

Chet read a label and got out the proper one and unpapered it, laying a 
laryngoscope along with the airway onto the man's stomach where Johnny 
would have easy reach of them when he was set on his medication syringes.

Hank helped prime the I.V. tubing while Roy grabbed a tourniquet, tape and
alcohol prep to start the man up with his fluid access point.

Gage set down the phone. "All right. Roy's ready to intubate him, Mike. Brackett
wants an ET as soon as we get him on a long spine board. Kelly, we'll lift at 
the end of the next CPR cycle. Just slide that underneath him. Cap's got it in 
his hands. We're gonna need it for his transfer to the gurney later." Johnny told 
them.

"I'm waiting.." said Chet, never slowing on his squeezed ventilations.

"So am I." replied Stoker, keeping his compressions even.

At the end of a fifteen set and two breaths, all the firemen lifted the husband
rapidly by his clothes until the longboard squared him. 

Then the core of the medical work began. 

Cap raised the head of the board up onto the splints box just enough
so DeSoto would have a way to drop the man's head back for his intubation 
attempt.

Roy used Cap's abandoned closet rag to wipe away a splash of vomit left
behind after suctioning. The he quickly tubed the man using the strong
early evening sun that was still lighting up the top of the man's head. 
"How's that?" he said, folding up the laryngoscope and tossing it into 
the case next to him.

Johnny left Cap holding the I.V. bag and an array of sheathed syringes 
while he checked for equal lung sounds. "Pull it up a bit, Roy. The left's 
muffled. Chet go easier for a few breaths until we're sure of his placement." 
he said to Kelly, glancing up from where he crouched low using his 
stethoscope.  

DeSoto jostled the ET out an inch, not getting into Chet's way where
he was bagging and applying cricoid pressure. "How about now?"

Gage paused, moving the drum around Stoker's stationary laced
fingers as he listened. "Ok, he's equal bilaterally. No sounds over
the stomach."

Mike continued his CPR at a nod from Gage.

"That's placed at twenty two centimeters.." Roy said for Johnny's notes. 

"Got it." he replied. After writing, Johnny took back the I.V bag and medications
from Hank. 

Roy secured the man's airway with an ET holder and bite block. A minute later
he asked. "Cap, found a vein site yet?"

"No. He's flat everywhere on both arms and legs." replied Stanley. He had
cut away the man's pants legs and sleeves with Roy's shears looking for 
possible sites.

"Ok, we'll go ET for his epi loads." DeSoto decided. 

"Yep. Brackett wanted those first. Here." said Johnny passing off two epinephrine
1:10,000 doses that he had cap popped, air squirted  and screwed together 
a few minutes earlier. 

Roy grabbed them both. "Ok, Stoker. Stop CPR. Chet, go ahead and pull
off the ambu for a second." Then he injected both syringes down the airway 
through its mouth port. "Give him three breaths now. Make sure they're deep."

Kelly did so. "Ok, Stoker. Start up again." Chet said when he was through.

CPR resumed to begin circulating the stimulant.

Roy shook his head at the monitor. The V-fib still hadn't coarsened for
them. "Ok, I'm shocking again." and he hit the charge button on the defibrillator
until its whine built up to the top level. He delivered the charge, but afterwards,
the fine ventricular fibrillation returned to plague him horribly. ::Not another
death so soon. Please...:: he wished mentally. Then his knee bumped the man's 
head as he was setting down the paddles. He let out a grunt of discovery. "Oh, 
would you look at that." It was one of the nicest jugular veins he had ever seen. 
"Johnny, I got one." 

"It's about time.." Johnny murmured as he wrote down another order
from Brackett. "I was beginning to wonder if we'd lost our touch." he grinned.
Then he set about getting a new course of medications prepared.

Roy swiftly inserted a sixteen gauge catheter in the man's neck and attached 
the tubing. He dialed up a wide open to see what would happen. He got a rapid 
flow of fluid with no swelling or infiltration to the site. He quickly secured it with 
tape and turned the rate down to TKO.

He barely noticed Johnny delivering Brackett's one amp of sodium
bicarb right behind his taping. He was pure thinking instead. "Does he
want Lidocaine or the new one?"

"The Amiodarone. 300 mgs I.V. push." Gage replied.

Roy pulled two vials of 150 mgs and snapped the tops off their glass
ampules, drawing both into a syringe. He stopped himself when he 
remembered that the anti-arrythmic had a tendency to foam on pressure 
without a saline bolus. He calmed it down with 10 cc's from the I.V. bag
Cap was holding up for him. Then he filled his mix the rest of the way
into his injection syringe. The foam disappeared. A glance told him that 
V-fib still existed on the monitor around the CPR waves. He injected all 
of the cardiac stabilizer and ran in fluid wide open to complete its delivery.

They all started gaping in disbelief when the fine V-fib started to grow
into a very coarse pattern.

"There's our window. Defibrillate him again." said Johnny. Post shock, the
V-fib remained coarse. "Ok, it's been four minutes." he said, popping the caps
off another Epi 1:10,000 and twisting them together. He shot the stream into
the air before giving it into another port on the I.V. tubing.

The man was shocked again with the same result on CPR. 

"Let's go with what works." Roy muttered, cracking open another ampule of
Amiodarone. He glanced at his watch. "Here's his second shot. The time of his 
half dose, at 150, is 17:03." he reported to Johnny as he pushed it into the I.V.'s 
med port followed by a saline flush.  

Cap looked up at Henry's bark. "The Mayfair's here." A minute later, a siren
began to build from the distance, coming fast from the east.

The next shock showed a change from V-fib to a more normal looking sinus type
rhythm. Chet checked for a pulse, but found none. "It's not there yet." he said.

"Resume CPR." DeSoto said, looking up, leaving the I.V. set at a wide open rate
to encourage all the medication. "We'll ready him for transport."

"Four minutes since the last epi." offered Hank, looking at his watch.

Roy gave the man another loading dose of epinephrine to keep up the 
required stimulant intervals that Brackett liked his paramedics to use.

Captain Stanley planned out their next move. "Chet, Mike, stay with DeSoto.
We'll follow along in the engine in case he crashes again. You'll need
a CPR switch off with us if that happens. Stoker, you ok for now?"

"Yeah, I'm fine. Guess I'm used to long CPRs now." Mike replied.
"No thanks to you." he teased under his breath so only Cap and
Chet would hear him. Then he winked at them both.

The husband was carted off without a break in his CPR to the waiting ambulance.
Once he was situated and locked down, Roy rechecked the tube's placement.
It was still secure with good breath sounds. Marco quickly got the wife into
the Mayfair's passenger seat. The ambulance attendant took over
Chet's cricoid pressure hold to prevent the man from stomaching his oxygen.
Johnny remained on the side bench getting another dose of epi and
bicarb set and ready for Kel's next move.

The Mayfair took off for the hospital Code Three.
 
In transit, Roy was all business. Hopefully, he checked for a carotid.
And found one. "Hold off, Mike. I think he's got a pulse of his own now."

Stoker stopped while Kelly kept bagging.

Roy nodded again, smiling happily at the neck pulse bounding under his
fingers. "It's there."

Johnny looked at the monitor. "He's in the nineties. All right.." he celebrated.
He followed up with a blood pressure check. "98/48." He snatched up
a smaller 250 ml bag of normal saline and added 250 mgs more of Amiodarone
with a microdrip set. He piggybacked it into the main I.V. line. He left it
at a rate of 60 gtt to keep up the perfusable rhythm with 1mg of the
medication a minute for some patch maintenance. 

The tweeking brought better results. Roy checked and got a second BP 
reading. "108/50. He's on a definite recovering curve."

All four of them looked at the EKG. It was showing a very good normal sinus
rhythm. Seconds after, the man started gasping with some chest rise through
his unconsciousness. Chet shifted to assisting him with light vents on inspiration
with his ambu.

Johnny got back onto the biophone. "Rampart, vital signs are responding towards
wakefulness with the rhythm you can see. Respirations are beginning. Our ETA 
is one minute."

##10-4, 51. We'll be waiting.## replied Kel. ##Nice job, fellas. Congratulations on
a successful turn around. We have cardiac catheterization specialists standing 
by. Rampart Hospital, out.##

-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

The next day, Roy and Johnny asked Brackett how their surprise visitor had
fared. 

Kel replied. "A twelve lead indicated an acute inferior MI. We drew labs and did
his second angioplasty, which revealed numerous blockages of the right circumflex
artery. He went through a triple bypass last night. He should be fine once
again after a bit more of extensive rehabilitation."

"Wow, was he lucky." sighed Roy.

"He sure was." Gage said, equally impressed. "I thought he was a goner for
sure the way he crashed like that."

"Well, it helped that his arrest was witnessed and that care was rendered 
immediately to rectify the situation." said Kel, beaming.

"Kinda makes you smile knowing that you've got so many paramedics 
around these parts nowadays, doesn't it doc?" Gage asked Dr. Brackett.

"Smile, Johnny? He gets positively effusive at everyone whenever he thinks 
about it." replied Dixie McCall, looking up from her chart. "It's a welcome 
change from his usual grumbling mood, let me tell you."

-----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

That night, the gang slept the sleep of the dead, warm in the glow of
pure self satisfaction. 

That is, until something else unexpected happened....

----------------------------------------------------------------------------- 

Photos: None. 
 
**************************************************
From: "Roxy Dee" <laterrapincabesa@hotmail.com> 
Date: Thu Feb 23, 2006 5:19pm 
Subject: The Cheynes-Stokes Scare~~ 
 

Henry began to whine softly in the darkness. 

From his bunk, Chet groaned. "Oh, for Pete's sake,
Gage. Did you forget it was your turn to let Henry out
earlier?"

"I let him out. I let him out.. Two hours ago. Maybe he's
just bored or something.." Johnny said flipping over onto
his back. "It is kind of unusual that all of us went to bed
at the same time. Maybe he's just picking up on that fact 
as being a little odd."

"Yeah, well, let's just hope for your sake that he settles
down." said Kelly as he flipped back over.

Johnny smiled in the blackness surrounding them,
stretching a little. Then he thought of something. "Hey, Roy.
You asleep?"

"I was. What do ya want?" DeSoto complained sleepily where 
he lay half out on his stomach.

"I was wondering whether or not you know what's eating Henry
up so bad. I mean, there's no reason for his fussing. Know what
I mean?"

Roy gave a sigh of long suffering. "I'm amazed that you even
heard him. Usually you sleep like a log when it's so quiet in
here."

"That's it. It's silent! I'll just bet Cap snuck off to the office ten
minutes ago to study the chief's books again. That explains 
everything." Johnny said, sitting up."Hey Marco... Hey!  Is Cap 
over there?"

Lopez flipped over in irritation. "Oh, for crying out. l- Ok, I'll 
look if only to shut you--" he broke off. "Uh, guys.. he's still 
here."

Something in Marco's voice made a chill flow down all their spines.

Lopez immediately pegged the problem for what it was. "Why isn't
he snoring like he usually does?"  Marco sat up, and peered the
four feet over to his left to Cap's bunk. "Guys, I don't think he's 
moving."

Gage and the others shot to their feet but no one was faster than
Chet. "Hey, Cap?!" Kelly said loudly as Roy waved the lights on
at the radio table next to the window. "Gage, I don't think he's
breathing." said the curly haired fireman, going nearer.

That alarmed Roy and Johnny and they hurried over to his bed,
and they both kneeled down on either side of Hank, pulling
his covers down and off of his chest. They were about to shake
him when Stanley shifted in an involuntary jerk where he was on his 
back. Then he choked oddly and started gasping violently through 
a half open mouth without waking up. And fell into the normal snoring 
pattern they all were familiar with hearing at night. 

Johnny glanced up at Lopez. "Are you sure you weren't seeing things?
He's just fine. Geez, Marco. Thanks for scaring the h*ll out of all
of us like that." said Gage, hurrying back across the cold floor to get 
under his blankets again. 

"I know what I saw." declared Marco. "How could Henry and I both be 
wrong? How else would you explain why he's so uneasy. We all
felt it a moment ago. That's what probably woke us all up."

The bunkroom erupted in loud conversation when everybody began
debating about the real reason why they had crawling skin.

Then the expression on Roy's face stopped them all. His head was
tilted as he listened to something they weren't yet aware of and his 
eyes slowly fixed on Cap's face. His snoring had gone completely 
absent and Cap lay still as concrete. Then they all noticed that
he wasn't even trying to draw breath in any more. 

"Holy sh*t." Johnny immediately gulped and jumped out of bed 
and he flew back over to Cap's side. "What's the problem? Roy, is 
he sick?"

"See? I told you." said Marco as he joined the others in a rush for
Hank's bed.

Gage was just about to touch him when Roy stayed his hand. "Wait
a minute. I think I just figured something out about what's happening
here. I don't think we have to wake him just yet. I wanna see if I'm
right about my sudden idea."

"Are you crazy? Let me at least open his airw--" Gage protested. 

*Choke!* came the odd noise again from Cap. 
They all froze when Hank once again sputtered and gasped as if he 
were partially throat blocked for a few seconds. Then his snoring 
became once again what was normal for him during sleep.

Narrowing his eyes, Gage thought about it. "Every minute he does
that?"

"Apparently." Roy said, folding his arms.

Chet was nervous. "Shouldn't we wake him and see if he's really ok?
I mean, it might be a stroke or something."

The rest of the guys just rolled their eyes at Kelly. 

"Oh, Chet, please, he's as healthy as an ox." Johnny scoffed, folding his
arms like Roy was doing but for a different reason.

"Be that as it may, I'm gonna go get the O2. Just in case." Kelly said,
jogging out of the room. "Unlike the rest of you, I'm getting ready for
the unexpected."

Roy sat on the edge of Cap's bed and felt his pulse. "Normal. His
color's good, too."

Gage figured it out. "Nah, it can't be."

"Only one way to find out." admitted Roy.

"Find out what?" Stoker asked, carefully watching Hank for any
further adverse changes from where he crouched on his toes.

"We'll see in a just under a minute if what we think is up happens
again." Gage told him.

Kelly came clattering back with the oxygen apparatus and he was 
intercepted instantly by Roy and Johnny and made to keep quieter.
They took the equipment from his hands. 

"What're you doing? We probably need that for him." Kelly snapped.

"Shhh! No we don't." Johnny hissed, jerking a thumb at where Cap lay 
slumbering. "Just hush up and watch him along with the rest of us, ok?"

"Watch for what?" Chet whispered, still scared.

From the other side of the room, Henry started whining again.
Faintly, and worried.

Cap's loud snores grew more and more labored over time, but
he didn't wake, his eyes rolling under their eyelids. Then he seemed
to relax and his chin fell onto his chest again like usual. But while
doing it, he fell silent and didn't draw in another breath. For ten seconds,
fifteen... twenty..

Roy and Johnny watched tensely, still monitoring Hank's pulse, which
was picking up.

Chet ansed. "I don't like this one bit. What's wrong with him?"

"Chet,...we don't know for sure. But Johnny and I see that he's not
in any kind of danger yet. His color's still real good." Roy answered.

"What?"

"See for yourself." Gage said, gesturing.

"But he's not breathing." Kelly insisted.

Roy nodded in agreement. "If I'm right, he'll start up again in
five seconds.."

Unconsciously, the others looked at their watches.

Mike stood in nervous anticipation, glancing at the oxygen gear
in a brief flicker.

Gage was about to fidget himself when Cap repeated the violent
recovery cycle of his strange seeming affliction without waking up 
in the slightest. 

Roy timed the rate they all saw and heard as he resumed snoring.

Kelly squinted suspiciously. "Is this what I think it is?"

"You mean about him probably having a bad case of sleep apnea?"
Roy asked. "That's what we both think it is." he said, pulling
a BP cuff and stethoscope out of the desk drawer. He also grabbed a 
tape recorder, set it on the table, and hit the record button. "We're 
gonna document this right now and play it back for Cap in a few minutes 
when we wake him up. If we don't have proof of something odd going on, 
he'll never go to the doctor's about it. You remember how he was last 
year with the tendonitis he found in his hands. It almost took a catapult to
get him in to see Dr. Brackett. Now, everybody, pipe down. Let's
get two minutes of this recorded, ok?"

The rest of the gang twitched nervously, but they held their tongues.

Johnny showed pure paramedic skill when he got a blood pressure
reading off Cap without disturbing him. "It's fine. 130/90." Then Hank's 
odd breathing started rising in ever increasing apparent difficulty. 

Until he quit trying to do it at all. 

It took everything the others had to hold their own breaths so the tape
recorder caught everything without giving into their training to fix Cap's
situation with a firm head adjustment.

A half minute went by where Cap didn't breathe. Then suddenly, he did, 
just like he had before in great shuddering inhalations until he was
resting peacefully.

The gang watched this agonizing cycle once more before they couldn't
hold themselves still enough to wait any longer.

They woke him. Swiftly.

Hank shot up onto his hands and butt blearily. "What?" he mumbled, 
rubbing a very sleep heavy face."I didn't hear anything. Did I finally 
sleep through an alarm call here?"

"Not exactly.." said Marco after a pause.

"No, wait a minute, Marco, that isn't exactly true, now is it? Cap, for a
few minutes there, we thought you were one." Kelly said in exasperation.

Cap's eyes squinted in a don't-you-go-kidding-with-me look. Then he noticed
the oxygen apparatus by his bedside and the cuff still wrapped around his
arm. "What's this all about? Are you playing some kind of joke on me,
Chet?"

"Wish he was, Cap." Gage said, rubbing his face. "We all think you got a little 
problem coming out that needs you to start paying attention to it. It also
explains why you've been feeling so tired lately. Just listen to this."
said Johnny, rewinding and playing back the tape for Hank to hear.

The captain's face fell from embarrassment to actual horror when he
heard himself stop snoring so disturbingly for so long. Henry's quiet
moans in the background only increased his fright. "That was me?
J*sus!" he sat up a little straighter, hugging his knees. "I sound like
I'm dying. No wonder you guys dragged that in here." he said, jerking a
thumb at the resuscitator apparatus next to him. Then he blinked as
he absently calmed an overjoyed Henry with a few pets. "Uh..  
Why am I doing that kind of thing?" he said, flipping off the tape with
a shudder.

Roy sighed, folding his fingers on the bed. "Have you ever heard of
sleep apnea, Cap?"

"Yeah, isn't that what people develop when they get a little too overweight?"
Hank guessed nervously, coughing. He was a still a little uncomfortable with
everyone staring at him like they were still doing in serious concern.

DeSoto shrugged. "Deviated septums, enlarged tonsils, abnormal REM
cycles, sleep ailments..any number of things can bring it out if one has
a tendency for it."

"Well,.well.. uh.. What's a guy supposed to do about it in the meantime?
Is it dangerous?"

"For you, not yet." said DeSoto. "You don't develop cyanosis when you quit
breathing because your body fights back and starts it up again before even
a minute goes by."

"But you probably never get a chance to hit REM sleep, Cap, before you're
half jolted awake enough to fix your own airway by harder snoring. I'll just
bet you can't remember the last time you dreamed about anything. How 
could you? You never get into that state which allows it." Gage said,
rubbing his chin thoughtfully.

"Sure I do. I last dreamed about..." he broke off, rubbing burning eyes. "Well,
I'm sure I dreamed something last week.. or was it last month?" he sighed
in confusion. Then he sagged back onto his pillow and peeled the BP cuff
off his arm. "I'm too tired to think about it any more, guys. Me with sleep apnea?
I just can't believe it.. I mean, well,...why doesn't my wife notice this? We sleep
together in the same bed."

"Maybe she's just a sound sleeper." Roy suggested.

Cap made a face. 

"It might be true you know. Most likely, your dog'd notice things before she would.
Because he isn't so habituated. I mean, that's what happened to us, with Henry. 
He's the one who woke us all up to check you out in the first place." said Johnny.

"He did?"

The rest of the guys nodded.

Then Chet said. "We thought you had gone into the office again to study. Just
imagine our fright when we found you still in bed, not moving. You scared the h*ll
outta Marco here."

"Sorry, Marco." Cap winced. "I didn't realize."

"Well, now you do. You should schedule an appointment with a doctor in a sleep
lab a.s.a.p." said Roy firmly.

"Oh, now, don't go starting that go see a doctor business up with me again."
Hank stiffened.

"Do you like feeling tired all the time?" Johnny insisted, getting frustrated instantly. 
"Sooner or later, your fatigue's gonna start effecting your job, Cap. And quite, frankly,
I don't think Headquarters is gonna be too keen on letting you get a chief's spot while 
still suffering from uncontrolled night apnea."

Cap seemed to shrink in his underwear. "What do I do in the meantime..?" he whispered.
"I'm so tired tonight, I - I, I can't even think straight anymore." he said, his lower lip
quivering with an uncharacteristic waver. "And we still have a full day to get through 
tomorrow."

Gage nodded at Roy knowingly, until DeSoto said, "We can do this, Hank." and
he handed Stanley a plastic oxygen mask. "Just for tonight. Setting the regulator
at half a liter a minute should get you through until dawn without another episode. 
When you're fully rested in the morning, we'll talk about it some more then, ok?"

"I can't use this. I'll look stupid having to explain things when A-shift sees a 
discrepancy in oxygen tank usage in the equipment logbook in a day or two."

"So?" shrugged Gage. "We can cover for ya. I know at least one intern who owes
me a favor for letting him go on a ride along. We can bring your emptys to Rampart
in the squad and I can have him fill them up there each day until you finally get 
evaluated and treated." 

"You don't have to do that for me." Hank sighed. "I - I can always stand up to
them on A-shift, and, and- and be evasive. I am a captain after all."

"Yeah, but why risk such a glowing record as one by lying to another shift
at your own station. That won't wash over well with McConnikee once he finds out. 
And find out he will once Brice figures things out about what we're doing on our 
end." Roy told him.

Cap couldn't say anything else as a huge yawn threatened to crack his
jaw in two. Henry yawned right after him, and curled up on his stomach with a
worry releasing sigh.

Gage just ended the conversation by turning on the oxygen and hooking it
up. "Here. Go to sleep already. Once you are, I'll sneak back over here
and turn the recorder back on to see how the bumped up oxygen helps ya.
The doctors will wanna know what makes it better and how much. The tape'll
tell them."

"I can't sleep now! Not with knowing about this.." protested Cap.
His body immediately refuted that statement into a lie by making
Hank yawn again.

"Oh, yes, you can." chuckled Stoker. "Come on, roll over or I'll go call
Dixie to come to the stationhouse just to tuck you in."

"Yes, mother.." growled Cap through the mask he set reluctantly onto his
face. He turned away from everybody and curled his arms around himself
as he got comfortable on his left side. "Pretend this never happened, ok?
I'm embarrassed enough as it is."

The gang respected that and turned off the lights. They all laid down
to sleep again, except for Gage who sat indian style on top of his blankets,
waiting for the moment to switch the recording machine back on.

Softly, he whispered. "You take good care of him, Henry. Woof when he's
asleep for me, ok? I can't see him very well from over here."

Henry sneezed. Johnny took that as a yes for his answer. 

Then Gage turned towards the window to pass the time and he let the sight
of the slowly rising moon fill his eyes.   

----------------------------------------------------------------------------- 

Photos: None. 
 
**************************************************
From: "Cory Anda" <andacory@...> 
Date: Sun Feb 26, 2006  5:34 pm 
Subject: Start of the Day. 

It was five fifty six a.m. 
Station 51's kitchen was in full chaos mode.

The gang, except the still slumbering Cap, had unspokenly 
agreed sometime in the night to KP without him. Stoker took
the brunt of egg frying while the others juggled carefully contrived
waffle searing and general mayhem with the bacon.

Johnny rubbed his nose as he began to set the table for
all the food. "Man, are we lucky no calls have come in.
Cap's still sleeping like baby in there." he chuckled. 
"And before you ask, Roy, yes, I made sure that he's not 
tangled up in tubing."

Roy looked at his watch. "At least that worked some. I heard
second part of his sleeping tape while shaving. Do you think 
we should disable the overhead in the bunkroom so he gets
in a little more pillow work? L.A.'s morning communications 
check is due in four minutes."

Johnny opened his mouth, gesturing with a fork.

"Noooo wayyy, Gage. Don't do it. " interrupted Chet. "Do you really 
wanna face Hank's wrath once he learns he actually lived through 
one of his worst Captain's fears? You heard him last night. He never 
wants to wake up to the day he misses hearing a call. Even if 
it is just the usual county a.m. wake up tones."

Stoker was mischievious. "Why not? Let's go ahead and live dangerously."

Gage snorted in laughter. "No thanks. I think what we already do
for all our jobs is excitement enough. So,.." he said turning around
a chair at the table so he could butt perch on its highback edge with his
shoes planted on the seat. "What's gonna be the gameplan for
getting him into Rampart for a sleep study test?"

Chet shrugged. "We could always hook part of a ceiling on
an extinguished fire call down on top of him when he's not looking.
You know, just to wing him a little bit into a precautionary ambulance trip.
That way, Brackett can get his meaty claws locked onto him a little easier."

Roy smiled. "That'd be attempted murder charges, Chet." he kidded. "At
the very least. But I don't think we're gonna have to get quite so drastic
getting him in to see a doc about his apnea. That tape did all the scaring 
work for us."

"Nah, I'll believe it when I see it." Chet said, stealing a bacon strip off
the sizzling grill. He burned his fingers on it. "Ouch!"

"What a dummy." said Marco, throwing him a wet towel. "Why don't you
wait for your food like the rest of us?"

"I'm used to pilfering. That's how I survived growing up competing
with my much older big sister." Kelly replied. 

"What'd your parents do? Starve you two?" asked Gage incredulously.

"No, we both like drumsticks. And after dad got his there was only one
left to grab. I got good at it." said Chet.

"Boy, don't I know that. I'm still missing yesterday's potatoes."
Gage mumbled.

"I'll make some more just for you at lunch later on today. Deal?" Kelly
said, running his seared fingers under the tap. Then he shook his
head. "Man I never thought I'd see the day where I renegged on a
food snatch. Mark it as a landmark moment everybody."  

No one did.

Then Stoker did a Radar O'Reilly. "Wait for it. Not for us.."

##Rrawww OOO EEeeeeeeo.#### said the SCU tones. 
##This is L.A. testing with Stations, 24, 99, 18, 110, 8 and 51. 
Your time check is now 0700.## declared the speaker grill.


A minute later, they all heard the clattering of the oxygen
apparatus as Cap put it away back into the squad's gear stow.

Hank soon shuffled in and sat down, fully dressed in uniform.
He looked self conscious for only a moment, thinking about
what had happened to him in the night but then he said, "I
put the empty tank away and covered the top of it with a biobag
so you guys won't accidentally grab it on a medical call." he 
said to Roy and Johnny.

"Thanks, Cap." said Roy, not looking up intentionally from
his folded newspaper.

Then Gage neatly changed the subject. "So, who's ready for
the Fireman's Ball? I got my tux rented."

Marco smiled. "I am. My mother's gonna pick it up for me
today from the rental place at one since I'm working."

"That was nice of her." said Cap. "Wish my wife would pick
up mine."

Chet frowned. "What's wrong with the one you wore at your
brother's wedding? I thought that one looked just fine, Cap."

"The wife doesn't like gray." shrugged Cap, dishing out some
peaches from the large can opened on the table into his bowl.
"She says it'll clash with everything she's got in the closet."

"Well, there's no accounting for taste these days." said Chet
"I think she just doesn't realize the impeccable fashion sense
you possess, Cap."

Cap set down his spoon. "Are you saying that to try and butter
me up into helping you study for the captain's test?"

"Yes." said Gage.

"Shut up, Gage." said Chet with no sting. "I'm brown nosing here."

"It's not gonna work.." Johnny said relentlessly. "Cap doesn't
like that kind of thing."

"I don't like fake sentiment either, Johnny. So don't buddy up to
me by reverse association. I'm onto you as well. If you want help
studying, the same resuscitation challenge's waiting for you."
he said.

"No thanks. I know my own abilities with that and how good a
student I make while studying on my own."

"I'll vouch for that." said Roy. "He did graduate paramedic class
at the top of the pile."

"Who's side are you on, Roy?" Kelly wondered sarcastically.

"His." DeSoto said, pointing at Johnny while chewing without breaking off
from his reading. "He's the better man for the possible captaincy
here."

"What makes you say that?" asked Cap in amusement to Chet's
chagrin.

"Maybe it's because I know him so well. Anybody with bad habits
as transparent as his has gotta have something going for him inside 
any command chain. Any men who find themselves under him will see 
right through those and automatically learn the good habits."

"Thanks a lot for the personality profile, Pal." Johnny told Roy. 
"If that's true, then how do you explain him?" And he jerked a thumb
at the pondering Chet.

Stoker did another precog. "This one's us..." he warned.

Then Henry barked. 

The gang got to their feet, abandoning breakfast.

"Rrawww OOO EEeeeeeeo." said the SCU tones.
##Station 51. Unknown type rescue. 1457 Marx Way. 1457 Marx Way. 
Cross street. Jefferson St. Time out : 0709.##

Cap muttered as he pulled on his turnout coat. "That sounds
like a house address."

"It is.." said Stoker, fingering the wall map for a route trace. 
"It's in the West Carson neighborhood by the ballpark."

The station rolled out.

------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Photo:   Cap getting on suspenders and trunks.

Photo:  Stoker and Chet eating.

Photo:  Gage worried and listening to Roy on squad bumper.

Photo:  The tones speaker.

Photo: Stoker pulling out of the bay at the wheel of Engine 51.

Photo:  Both the engine and squad rolling down the highway.

**************************************************
From: Patti or Jeff or Cassidy <theaterhost@voyagerliveaction.com> 
Date: Wed Mar 1, 2006  11:02 pm 
Subject:  Sleep Eternal... 
 
Roy and Johnny were two minutes into the trip when Johnny said,
"Man, I got a real bad feeling about this one." he said, rubbing
his lips nervously. "Hair's prickling on the back of my neck."

"Are you sure it isn't because of the word 'unknown' being used
on a call. That's all it takes for me. It's only slightly better than
responding to a domestic disturbance and getting there before
any police arrive." Roy said, gripping the steering wheel.

"It's more than that, Roy. I haven't felt like this since I looked
down and realized that it was my best friend lying in pieces
on the side of the road in a patrolman's uniform."

"You're just tired, that's all. We did have a restless night
thinking about Cap and how to best monitor him last night." 
Roy smiled in an attempt to cheer him. "I saw the way you 
were still watching him when I got up this morning. You didn't
have to do that. He was just fine. And so are you right now."

"Then why do I feel like I have to throw up?" Gage asked with
a little fear. "A lack of sleep doesn't explain that away 
at all."

The two said nothing while Roy simultaneously kept tabs on 
the engine speeding at a safe distance behind them and the
turns they were carefully taking as Johnny directed their route
by pointing, nervously.

An unwelcome tension began to permeate the squad. 

---------------------------------------------------------------------------------
Captain Stanley tried to ease the anxiety quotient on their rescue
call. He contacted Headquarters. "L.A., This is engine 51."

##Go ahead, Engine 51.##

"Do you have any more information regarding the nature 
of our current call?"

##Engine 51. Negative. Your response was designated as unknown
when the caller left the operator on an open line. However, I've
notified the police. A squad car is responding to the same address. 
Their approximate ETA is two and a half minutes.##

"10-4, L.A. Engine 51 out. Will advise upon arrival." sighed Hank.

He shook his head at Stoker to share mutual frustration while
the engineer skillfully maneuvered the Ward through the busy traffic
surrounding them.

Dawn had burned away into full daylight when there was no more 
distance or time left for which they had to wait. Cap saw the squad 
jam its tires up against the curb and park there. As protocol demanded, 
they didn't immediately get out. Instead, they watched and listened for 
a response from inside the house reacting to the sounds of their sirens.

But Stoker's blasting airhorn summoned no one's face to either
window by the door when they turned them all off to listen.

Just then, Vince pulled up in his squad car and drew out his gun. 
"Wait right there until I check it out, boys.." he said. "Turn down 
your radio scanner for a minute, all right?"

Hank nodded and gestured a glove at Mike to lower the volume
quickly. Then everybody got out on the street side of their vehicles.

They watched as Howard hugged the bushes, keeping under 
close concealment as he moved towards the house's white painted
porch. He found the front door open and went inside, his gun preceding
him.

Peering around the engine's fender, Cap held the others back and got on
his HT. "Engine 51, to squad 51. Stay behind the squad until we get
word from Vince to follow. Get all the gear you can reach over there
on that side of the truck only.." he ordered.

##HT 51, to Engine 51. We're standing by.## said Gage into his own HT
with every syllable of his answer showing how unhappy he was at
having to freeze in place and not act on anything. He smacked
a frustrated glove against the mirror frame of the driver's door 
where he was crouched next to Roy.

"Easy." said DeSoto. "We'll get in there and at an answer soon enough. 
You know how this works."

Johnny ignored him and pulled the resuscitator apparatus even closer to 
his side.

Then, a shadow appeared in the doorway. It was Vince, waving them
in.

L.A.'s voice erupted over the loud speakers of both trucks and all
their walkie talkies. ##Station 51.  LAPD reports a child call with
a mother in attendance.##

"10-4, dispatch an ambulance times one to our location as soon
as possible." confirmed Hank over the radio. "We've no fire."

##Engine 51.##

"Go..guys.. Move it." Cap said unnecessarily to the others as
he helped carry the EKG monitor and defibrillator while they
gathered the rest of the squad's medical equipment and followed
the rushing paramedics.

Vince said. "The baby's not breathing. But mom seems to have
been trained well enough. She's doing some pretty good CPR
on her."

Without another word, the gang entered the house and got into
the bedroom Vince indicated.

It was a sheer shock when the mother looked up in almost
blind terror. "Roy? Johnny?" she whispered hoarsely. "What
took you so long? I...can't get ..my daughter going
anymore." she sobbed through stringy sweat soaked hair.

Gage and DeSoto startled as they ran to the bed when Chet
said something that explained the mother's odd familiarity towards
them. "Karen Overstreet?"

It was the paramedic trainee who had saved Roy's life the day
he got electrocuted and fell off of a rooftop two years ago.

Captain Stanley immediately grabbed her shoulders. "Hand her over
to them, Karen. Let them see her." he told her firmly, pulling
her hands away from a small, limp infant who was only weeks old
from where she lay on the blanket rumpled bed. "They can help her now."

"No!!" she said, trying to pull her daughter back. Vince got
her away from the firefighters and gently tripped her leg so
she would fall seated into a nearby chair. "Jennifer..?!" Karen
screamed, trying to get up again. She was restrained by both 
Marco and Vince instantly. "Let me go!.."

Roy immediately saw the tiny child's bluish color and he placed
a stethoscope over the baby's chest. He shook his head at
Johnny and quickly started manual CPR, nodding to the others
to get out the neonate resuscitation gear while he gave the
baby careful breaths through his lips and restarted light compressions 
using his thumbs while he worked the baby on top of the defibrillator 
case.  

There would be no using that equipment, Johnny knew. The child's 
body size was far too small to handle even its lowest shock setting.

Gage lowered his voice to calm her when Karen finally stopped 
fighting Vince and Lopez's grip and giving into hysterics. "Karen.. 
Karen. We're getting her on some oxygen right now." he said, watching 
Cap and Chet getting some set up and flowing into a newborn's ambu 
bag. "You gotta tell us all you know about what's happened. How 
long do you think she was down without a pulse before you
found her?" he asked, holding her arms tightly by the shoulders.

"I don't know. I don't know.." Karen cried, only being able to
focus now on the floor in front of her bare feet.

Gage gripped her chin and forced it up until she met his eyes.

"Johnny, I'm so scared..." she gasped, sucking in a ragged breath.

"Easy, Karen. We're here now. It's ok to be frightened. But you gotta 
guess what time was it when you first noticed that your baby was in 
trouble." Gage told her firmly.

A second startling sight above them almost dragged his attention away
from Karen when his eyes spotted the paramedic's certificate
hanging on a frame and a medal of valor for fire services 
rendered, perched in a case next to it on a bookshelf. 
 ::Well, I'll be, she made it through the program and then some.:: 
he thought. He fought and regained his focus in seconds.

Overstreet trembled, grabbing onto Johnny's gripping hand
with both of her trembling ones."She was asleep, that's all.
Jeff just left for work. I.. uh, it was ..then was six. He always 
leaves at six." she said, in fear. 

Johnny soothed her. "Tell me more. Then I gotta get over
there to help Roy out with her."

Karen just about fell apart, trying to keep herself talking.
"Ok..*gasp* ..ok..  I think the time was 2:00 a.m. when Jeff came to bed. 
I don’t know exactly at what time I awoke, but I reached for Jenny. Just 
something that I always do. I reach out and touch my children when 
they're sleeping with me. I was groggy but she felt so cool. I thought she 
had just kicked the covers off. So I went to reposition her and snuggle 
her up against me. When I did, I could tell something was wrong. She was 
so limp..." she sobbed. "Oh, Johnny,.. I remember so many things about 
that moment. Her little face was turned in toward the sheet, but I don’t actually 
know if it was that way before I started to reposition her or if my repositioning 
did that. When I first reached out to rearrange her I didn’t have my eyes open. 
I scooped Jenny up, turned the light on and I said, 'Jenny's cold... Jeff?' But
he had already left."

"After six am? Or was it later? Your call reached us at 0709, Karen." Hank asked
from where he crouched over the bed, watching Chet work the bag while
he himself did CPR with his thumbs over the breastbone, his large 
hands encircling Jennifer's tiny chest. "It's important for the doctors to know--"

"Don't you think I know that!" she screamed. "You guys supposedly taught me 
everything I know." she cried bitterly. "You made me into one of you and
I went kicking and fighting all the way!"

The firefighters fell silent, working only for the child.

Stoker spoke up softly while he set up the biophone. "Karen, we're not
going to lie to you. It's bad, but she may still have a chance. We have to find 
out whether or not Jennifer may be a victim of SIDS or not, in order to treat
her more effectively."

But Overstreet was beyond listening. She mumbled. "I remembered that your
station's rescue squad was less than a mile from my house, so I dialed the
operator and I told her.. 'Oh, G*d! Please hurry!.'  They've got to come. I said 
to myself. They've got to come fast..." she sobbed, rocking her face against her 
knees. "Then I don't remember anything, guys. I can't even remember now.."
she cried, fresh tears re-staining her face.

Vince took a quilt off of a love seat and covered her up. "I'll go call 
mobile crisis from the hotline for her to meet us at the hospital." he 
offered. "I'll try to track down Jeff, too. Won't be hard. Looks like she's 
married." he said, tucking in Karen's left hand under the blanket where 
she sat dazed and rocking and twisting the wedding band on her finger 
numbly.

"Mike, keep an eye on her. Watch her for further signs of shock after
you're through with your initial hail to Rampart." Hank ordered.

Stoker hurried to obey.

Vince had a million thoughts running through his head. ::Observe
the scene. Take note of what was moved and how. The final determination 
of SIDS as the cause of the baby's problem will be based on possible evidence 
at the scene.:: he chided to himself. ::Just because we're hastening to resuscitate 
the infant, evidence can easily be destroyed and valuable information lost. 
Document what you found when you arrived; it may prove invaluable later. 
Remember the beginning? We needed to move the patient, and a few other things 
in the room, like the mother. Note it! Then go out and lock your car. You're
going with them. But first, clean up the mess being made. Last thing this
mother needs are reminders of today when she returns back home again.::

Karen spoke up as she felt Johnny leave her side for the bed. "ALTE! She's
got ALTE..It's come three times before." she gushed, struggling to stop shivering.

"Got it.." said Johnny as he took the phone from Mike. He spoke softly
to the doctor who had answered the call. "Rampart, this is Squad 51." 

##Go, ahead, 51.## replied Joe Early.

"Rampart we have a female infant less than eight weeks, down. She has 
a history of multiple apparent life-threatening event incidences. Uh, the mother
was performing effective first aid upon our arrival. We've no vital signs,
but there isn't clear evidence ruling in algor mortis. Livor mortis
is not apparent either. CPR on one hundred 02 is in progress." Gage told
him.

##10-4, 51. Start an I.V. of  Ringer's Lactate, O.S and give a 5 ml/kg fluid bolus. 
Make sure you angle your needle to avoid damaging the epiphyseal plate. 
Establish an endotrachael airway and deliver by intraosseous infusion: 
0.01 mg/kg of 1:1,000 solution epinephrine. If there's no response in three
minutes, make your second and subsequent doses 0.1 mg/kg of 1:1,000 
solution. Repeat every 3-5 minutes. Get me a cardiac reading from more 
than one lead. 

"Administer sodium bicarb as a one time bolus 1ml.kg-1 of an 8.4% solution
if you're absolutely sure the child is being effectively ventilated or
paradoxical intracellular acidosis will result. Transport as soon as possible 
continuing full resuscitation en route.## said Joe.

Gage repeated the orders he had written down. He eyeballed Roy.
"Epi, .01 of 1:1,000 through her tibia, Roy. I'll get her ET in a sec after
Rampart's got her half minute strip. Bolus in an 8.4% solution bicarb 
neonate O.S."

The paramedics tried not to look at the absolutely flat asystole scrolling
across the screen as the tube threaded down too easily. Cap resumed
compressions while Kelly ventilated and the paramedics delivered all
their death correcting medications in rapid sequence. 

Stoker ran back in with a KED short board and Jennifer was transferred
onto that and physically bandaged to it using soft gauze rollers by her head, 
upper legs and armpits without hindering her CPR. 

Karen followed them out the door and jumped into the passenger side of
the Mayfair's work door. She took to the rider bench immediately
and Vince sat with her with Mike Stoker on the other side. They didn't
stop her from holding Jennifer's hand and made ample room for her
while they worked fast to secure fluid lines, cardiac wires and 
oxygen over the small baby.

Chet traded his ventilating spot at the baby's head with the non-driving 
ambulance attendant. "Do your best." he whispered in his ear. "We know 
the mother."

Then he was gone to drive the squad in, with Marco following, driving the
engine. Roy relieved Cap from his two fingered compressions and watched
as Cap got out of the ambulance and closed the doors between them. 
Two slaps came soon afterwards and then the Mayfair took off code three.

Hank Stanley's lanky form dwindled in the window to a tan spot
on gray asphalt. He was the very picture of the grief they all felt
starting to rip through the tenderest parts of their souls.

Roy didn't know at what point Karen quit listening to them when 
she realized that her daughter was going to die. ::She knows
we're not going to be able to save her.:: he thought.

----------------------------------------------------------------------------
At the hospital, Karen Overstreet sat in the waiting room,
waiting. Rocking, praying, bargaining with God. ::It didn't
work.:: a small voice with no sound shouted at her. 

She remembered few things of the ride in to Rampart. The corner streetlight 
was backed up where she normally turned at with patients, while she was
working her station shifts. ::That driver took a different route to get us here.
Working in EMS, we know lots of short cuts.:: she thought numbly. 

She watched as a very concerned, professionally smiling Dixie tried to reach
her husband who worked sixty miles away to tell him that Jennifer had been 
taken in to the hospital. 

::Wasn't I just grand? When we pulled up at the entrance I sure ran in the ER 
entrance like I owned the place.:: Karen's mind started crying. ::I have to get to 
Jennifer soon, she's probably so scared. I have to see those big blue eyes 
light up at me.::  Overstreet blew her nose. Then she looked up and let 
the quilt from home drop from her shoulders. ::That police officer's taking my hand.:: 

Then Karen knew she was in real trouble. Two other doctors flanked her 
sides and she remembered someone touching her elbow as they told her in the ER 
hallway that Jennifer didn't make it. Karen saw a tech come out of the room at that 
moment with a grim look on his face carrying a pediatric cardiac pacer tray. It still
had the blinking battery unit on it.

::Oh G*d they had to heart stab my little baby!::  Karen started crying softly.
"I have to see her! This can't be real. I promise I won't start screaming or faint."
she told them.

Overstreet could feel that her daughter was gone but she didn't believe it. 
She watched with detachment as they led her into the nurses' lounge 
and told her that she could call anyone she needed to.  There were 
others in the room that she recognized as the hospital chaplain, and 
the family crisis counselor from the ninth floor.

Karen ignored Dixie as she gripped the red phone. "Jeff, I need you here, now."

##False alarm, huh?## asked Mr. Overstreet.

Karen couldn't reply, his statement had caused the second biggest blow 
to her soul in as many minutes.

A small whimper trickled from her lips as tears blinded her. 
"What should I say?" Karen asked the chaplain.

##Just tell me, Karen.## demanded Jeff, growing alarmed. 

Mrs. Overstreet did very quickly and she heard and felt Jeff falling 
to the ground to scream in pain through the phone. 
At that moment Karen thought. ::I want to launch the
rescue helicopter to go and get him.::  But out loud she said, 
"Please don't let him drive in such an upset condition." she
told them all. Her own voice sounded so calm in her ears, 
that it amazed her. "He'll just hurt himself more." she said,
hanging up the phone receiver.

Vince replied. "I'll go get him, ma'am, if you'll give me the address."

Numbly, Karen handed it to him from her purse. "Thank you." she told
him as he left. Karen didn't think she could breathe another minute being so 
far away from her husband even though she was surrounded by two doctors,
so she desperately started talking again. "What exactly did you do for
Jennifer? I'm....trying to reconstruct what happened. You see, I just
completed a neonatal resuscitation course a few weeks ago and I want
to make sure .." her face twisted in pain as the white hot grief she had prevented
knotted up once more in her throat.."that you did everything correct."
 
The tears came then, unrelenting.

------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Roy and Johnny and Cap went into the room with Karen. 
The police officer, Vince Howard, was guarding her door.

The baby was so tiny ...laying on the stretcher in the ER. 

Dixie handed Jennifer to Karen and they watched her sink to the floor rocking
her baby in her arms. Within moments, the chaplain entered the room 
with Jeff Overstreet and he started praying with and for all three of them.

Roy's face was a mask of pain.
::My insides are tearing apart. I've never in my life hurt so much as holding that
baby’s lifeless body.:: he thought looking at her. 

Jennifer's eyes were ever so slightly open and she was still pinkish; just a tinge 
of blue at her eyes and lips. 

Karen's mind wailed. "Oh, I want to look at her tummy, arms, back, and 
everything. But I'm so scared. I'm scared that she won't look the way 
that she should. I want to change her diaper."  She didn't. "I want to nurse 
her!" She couldn’t. 

Johnny saw her shrivel and felt horrible, too. ::So much physical pain comes with 
emotional pain. And there's not a d*mned thing I can do about it.:: he 
thought. Then he went to crouch down next to Karen, just to be near in 
support. Gently, he combed a few fingers through Jennifer's hair to 
neaten it with a soft caress.

Cap turned quickly away and had to leave the room before it became too 
much for him to bear.

Karen's mind raced. "Why couldn’t it have been me?! What did or didn't I do?!"
she demanded of Jeff and the chaplain and Dixie. Now it was guilt's turn to rule
her. "I just want to hold her forever. I don't want to see death come!" she sobbed.
"Please bring her back. Please. Oh, Jennifer... I'm so sorry...." she said, flooding
her infant daughter's still face with kisses.
 
Time both crept and sped by for Karen.  Jeff had left the hospital for a little 
while because he wanted to go home and hold his two older daughters and 
get them out of school. 

Karen understood that, but knew, too, that she couldn't leave Jennifer.. 

Mrs. Overstreet had to go several times to the bathroom but didn't want to let 
go of Jennifer, "I don't want her to be lonely." she sniffed.  

Roy offered to hold Jennifer while she went. 

Gage knew it took guts for him to be there because he knew he had a red 
headed little boy at home. The same red hair as Jennifer's.  

When Karen's husband returned to the hospital, Jeff Overstreet said, "The 
girls are waiting. They want to know what happened and they're asking 
me if Jennifer had to have a shot." Breaking down, Karen and her husband 
sagged into each others arms around their silent baby.

Ten minutes later, holding hands tightly, they left with their
infant child to tell them together, leaving the chaplain alone with the 
firefighters and Dixie.

-----------------------------------------------------------------------------------

It was after 10:00 a.m. when the medical examiner came to get Jennifer's 
body for the autopsy. 

Karen Overstreet had words to share with him.
"I can tell you that fourteen hours of hard labor is nothing compared to the 
pain we feel right now, doctor. I don't want to give Jennifer up, but we both 
want to know what happened to take our baby girl away from us. She was 
so healthy. She....she was current on all her immunizations, she always 
slept on her back and is...was..breast fed. Every precaution the experts 
advise you of, we followed. And it still didn't help." said Karen leadenly 
with a low anger.

But her hands were soft as she touched her daughter for the last time.

"I promise, I'll find the answer for you." said the M.E, taking
the blanketed bundle.

Then he and little Jennifer, were gone.

------------------------------------------------------------------

The Overstreets slept very little for the next week. Bit by bit,
details came back to them.

Karen mulled over yet another untasted cup of tea. ::I still have problems 
sleeping now a month later. I notified family and friends. I remember 
one of the firemen, Chet Kelly, the prankster, telling me the news hit him 
so hard he wanted to puke. That coming from a fireman who is trained to 
remain calm in most fiercesome of situations, seemed appropriate and 
were just the right words to describe that time. Was it the day of the 
funeral that I found out Jennifer died from SIDS? In a small way, it's a 
relief because I don't think I could handle her death occurring due to 
accidental abuse or neglect coming from one of us.::  

There had been three ambulances and Engine 51 at baby Jennifer 
Overstreet's funeral. The entire fire station had turned out in uniform. 

Jeff commented. "The town must think a fireman had died."

Karen smiled. "I carried Jennifer all through paramedic school 
and she was born in between station clinicals. G*d, what those 
station boys must think of me. Then, I was a real b*tch. In a way, 
I think a paramedic did die."

Jeff Overstreet laughed out loud. "Really.."

Karen slapped his arm and hugged her daughters closer to herself.
"Think about it, honey. Jenny frequently attended class with me, and her 
daddy kept her on the days I had clinicals. She probably knew more
about para-medicine than I do. She changed our lives, Jeff. She
drew us closer together, made the world a wonderful, exciting place in 
vibrant colors. And now, it seems like everything is in black and white 
and fuzzy. But I know someday there will be color again and clarity, 
but that's still a long way down the road."

"We'll all be happy again, Karen. I promise you that." said Jeff with tears
in his eyes. He kissed her head tenderly.

Karen sighed sadly. "She was with me and I was with her.. 
She is not with me anymore, but there is such a part of me that is still there,
Jeff, where we were."

After the funeral, at home, Jeff talked with the medical examiner over 
the phone.

The doctor replied, "If I were to give you my opinion on what happened 
to Jennifer, it is that her heart just stopped, Mr. Overstreet."

Later that night, Fallon, Karen's youngest said, as she was
falling asleep, "Jennifer knew she was going to die, Mommy.
She talked to God about it. She just had something inside of her
that went up and down...and up and down ...and up ...and down.. 
and then it stopped."  

Karen's sadness almost burst out of her chest. But then her mind smothered it
absolutely with a question. ::Now, how did my five year old see that in Jenny?::

The answer came on the soft wind blowing in from the lacy window. 
::Because they were bonded together, more deeply in love by their 
thoughts, than later spoken words could've ever hoped to achieve.::

----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
It had been a grueling week, and Cap still hadn't gone in to get
evaluated in a sleep lab for his bad snoring problem. So one
afternoon, Roy and Johnny and the rest of the gang decided to stick 
him to it with a little artful persuasion in a joint effort.  

They started by discussing the emotionally charged atmosphere
surrounding all SIDS calls like Jennifer Overstreet's. 

"Handling the scene in such a case involves much more than our normal 
protocols, Cap." said Johnny passionately. "I don't think we have the
resources in place yet to cope with that."

"How do you mean?" asked Cap, sipping his coffee thoughtfully.

Roy spoke up, quickly. "Some in EMS do not realize that when we treat 
a patient, we treat the whole family."

"Yeah, amen to that, brother." said Chet ruefully. "Boy, did I learn about 
that. Never leave a grieving family alone without emotional support after 
the death of a child."

Cap began to look uncomfortable. 

"What's the matter, Cap?" asked Johnny. "Thinking about Karen's baby
again?"

"No, I was thinking about what killed her. This SIDS.. uh, do adults ever
get that?" he asked, thinking about his apnea.

Roy was about to answer when Johnny stopped him with a touch on 
the foot with his heel. Gage put on a straight face. "Well, the experts
don't rightly know, Cap. Uh,.. you see, not a whole lot of money ever
makes it in committee to devote itself to that topic of study."

Roy caught on instantly. "Yeah, the only way to find out for sure is
to study people who are at risk for that sort of thing." he said
vaguely.

"Meaning...people who're like.....me?"

The gang all disassembled and stared at different parts of the room
without giving away the whole pot of beans. No one said a single word.

Finally, Cap sighed and said, "Ok, Gage. Gimmee the phone and
what's the number?"

Roy and Johnny both spoke up quickly. 

"Five, five..uh." stuttered DeSoto.

"Five five four...three. " parroted Gage.
"No Roy, you tell him. I'm gonna go stow Cap's latest drained oxygen 
tank in the side squad compartment and out of the front cab. If we're 
getting him to Rampart to get sleep evaluated this afternoon,.." 
Gage said happily. "..we're gonna need to make room if we're taking 
him in ourselves."

"So soon?" Cap gaped.

"Yeah, why not?" counted Roy. "The sooner the better." he glared back.

The rest of the gang muttered pretty much the same thing in various
shades of emotions.

"Ok, guess I've been out maneuvered and out numbered."
Hank told them. "But I wouldn't count on Rampart having any bed
space open for me since it's already Saturday. I might not even 
get in today.."

------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Fifty minutes later, Cap was face to face with Dr. Brackett
and Joe Early. And they were both smiling.  

Hank was asking plenty of questions, still feeling like a cold
germ under the microscope. "What is a polysomnogram?"

Joe warmed up to the subject. "Sleep apnea is 
diagnosed using a special test called a polysomnography. 
Polysomnography involves sleeping overnight with various leads 
or wires attached to your head, face, chest and legs. Stretchy bands 
are placed around your chest and stomach to detect breathing effort. 
Polysomnography testing is usually carried out overnight in order
to get a polysomnogram reading. Or PSG." he answered. 

Brackett continued. "All the leads will detect how you are 
breathing and sleeping. Leads and bands gather information to 
assist the doctor in making the diagnosis. A video camera assists 
the doctor or his tester in knowing your sleeping position.
While you sleep, data is gathered about the number and length of 
apneas or other problems that disturb your sleep. The morning 
after such a test, we'd be able to explain the results of any PSG 
and suggest the best treatment."

"What's the catch?" Hank asked warily.

Brackett's cheek twitched, when he realized that he would
have to share a less than popular factual detail about the apnea
lab. "In some sleep disorder centers, a "split night" study is done 
when continuous positive airway pressure (C.P.A.P.) is placed on you 
at some point during the night. The tester explains before you go to 
sleep what will happen and fits the mask before the test begins."

"Wait a minute! Johnny, Roy, you didn't say I'd have to wear
another mask for all this monkey business. I'm getting outta--"

"Now Cap.. hear them out. It's not as bad as you think." Gage
started up, putting his hand square against his chest to
stop him.

"He's right, captain." said Brackett. "That kind of testing is
not bad at all. During a test you will find that: 
None of the leads or wires hurt, you can sleep in any position, 
you can go to the bathroom, sleep is disturbed as little as 
possible by the test itself, and based on your test results your 
doctor may suggest lifestyle changes that can help with mild 
sleep apnea or treatment for a more moderate to severe type
of condition."
 
"Really, doc. I'm sure it's not the easy street you make it
out to be or else it wouldn't cost eight hundred dollars to
get yourself evaluated.." Cap scoffed right back.

DeSoto and Gage whistled in feigned shock, then
started cackling. 

Hank ignored them."I'm still not entirely convinced that the two of
you are for me." he said looking back at the two doctors 
with abject ambivilence. Cap narrowed his eyes and got back 
on the exam table. "What's the worse case scenario, if- if- if.. 
I go ahead and listen to you guys?" he asked nervously.

"Come on, Cap. You're not terminal." chuckled Gage.

Cap made a face.

"....at least, not yet anyway.." added Roy with a hint of the devil.
He disarmed Cap by winking at him.

"Quit teasing me!" roared Cap.
"Quit teasing him.." roared Brackett at the same time.

Both men looked at each other and laughed.

"Now where were we?" asked Kel.

Joe told him.

"Ah, yes. Treatments for sleep apnea. There's the 
C.P.A.P. machine..." Brackett began. "While sleeping, 
the patient wears a plastic mask or nasal prongs connected 
to a positive pressure device with provisions for adjunct therapy 
with supplemental oxygen or humidification of inspired air. Positive 
air pressure is delivered through the nasal passage forming an air 
splint of the upper airway to provide air exchange during the patients 
sleep. Flow rates ranging from 20 to 60 L/min generate pressures of 
2 to 20 cm H2O pressure. With monitoring by PSG, the pressure level 
is titrated to a level that restores airway potency, improves arterial 
oxygenation, and ensures uninterrupted sleep. Patients must be followed 
regularly to assess treatment efficacy and to verify compliance. 
Part-time or inconsistent use of the device does not adequately control 
OSA. The C.P.A.P's sure proved it's worth over recent years."

Cap's eyes started to cross in incomprehension. "Let's start that
last bit from the beginning.. Excuse me,.  a ..C.P.A.P?

"Uh, that's - Continuous Positive Airway Pressure." elaborated Joe.

"Thank you, doctor." bowed Kel graciously at Early.

"No problem, doctor. You're welcome." said Joe, equally charming.

"Would you two cut that out! You're talking about something that might 
potentially effect my life here. And I find it's no joking matter!" Hank 
yelled at them.

"Your life's already been effected if that tape we just heard is any good
kind of indicator. Just ask your men here." Brackett shrugged blandly,
crossing his arms together.

Both Roy and Johnny nodded vigorously, clamming up so they wouldn't
say anything else that was offensive.

"Then there's always the dental devices,.."

"Soccer mouthguards.." hissed Roy helpfully.

"....the radio frequency procedure.."

"Melts your uvula.." Gage added sotto voce.

"...and other various kinds of surgery that makes throat structure 
corrections that either eases or eliminates sleep apnea entirely." 
Brackett concluded. "The most common one's called a U.P.P.P."

"Sounds complicated." Cap frowned. "What happens if I
don't do anything at all?  I mean, I've survived just fine for
years with the condition so far without risking anything or anybody."

Gage and Roy both cleared their throats meaningfully.

"Well, almost fine." Hank amended under their less than
subtle hinting.

"Hank," said Joe no nonsense.. "The results if left untreated: 
high blood pressure, " he ticked off on his silver ringed fingers,
"heart problems, heart attack, stroke, car accidents and 
work-related accidents due to sleepiness, a poorer quality of life.
Especially marital wise." he nodded seriously.

Brackett nodded in agreement, "Umm hmm and obstructive sleep apnea, 
O.S.A., patients, prior to diagnosis and treatment, use 2 ˝ times more 
health care resources than patients without O.S.A. because they
usually have more doctor visits racked up because of nagging fatigue
and lingering, unexplained pain-like symptoms."

Right then, the hospital chaplain played his trump card by
coming in the door at the appropriate moment. 

Cap took one look at him and just threw his hands up into the air.
"Ok, here comes the speech. Lay it on me.." he said with fluffed up
sarcasm.

Father O'Malley's eyes just twinkled. "This is for your charming wife.
Remember it and share it with her, won't you?" Eh- hem.. Helping a 
partner with sleep apnea. Wife or husband, you can help your partner 
be successful with the treatment for sleep apnea. The following are 
a few ways to help: 
Reassure your partner that using C.P.A.P. does not affect how you 
feel about them or alter your view of them. 

"Encourage your partner to keep up the treatment even though it’s not 
always easy. 

"Offer to attend meetings, support groups or doctor’s appointments 
with your partner to learn more about sleep apnea. 

"Enjoy your partner’s extra energy by planning activities together. 
Support your partner’s efforts to lose weight or exercise. 
 
"Marriage can be challenging at the best of times, but these same 
challenges can be overwhelming when trying to cope with a chronic 
disorder. It is common to become overburdened and exhausted 
and to get so wrapped up in our own problems that the disorder 
can begin to separate couples.

"The person with sleep apnea may feel alone and isolated - 
often feeling frustration and guilt that they may have caused marital 
disharmony by having Sleep Apnea. They may feel misunderstood, 
afraid and angry. It affects how they see themselves and their 
masculinity/femininity. Some get wrapped up in self-pity and begin 
to shut down from the world." said the chaplain passionately.

"Boy, I'll say if the bunkroom follies have been any indication.."
said Gage loudly enough to be heard by all. 

"The healthy spouse often shares similar feelings but from a 
different perspective. Some feel guilt for their own wellness or feel pity 
or resentment towards the spouse, and they take on more and more 
responsibility to compensate. Some feel anger at the disorder and 
the burden it has become in their lives. Some feel frightened and 
confused at the prospect of perhaps having to be the responsible, 
healthy care-giver in the relationship.

"Whatever couples may be feeling, the most important thing is to keep 
communication lines open. Involve your spouse in your feelings and 
challenge one another to be open and honest. Share your hurts and 
pains as well as your strengths. Be supportive to your spouse. Learn 
together about the disorder, and develop coping strategies to help 
you through rough times. Become involved in the disorder by showing 
compassion, concern and caring. Be kind to one another keeping in 
mind that no one requested this disorder to come into your lives. 
Remember to enjoy the important things in life like memories shared, 
time spent, and continue to dream and plan for the future adjusting to 
accommodate the disorder. Using the treatment for sleep apnea can 
relieve stress and tension and help both of you to relax and enjoy each 
other..."

Cap coughed out of a catatonic state. So did all the others. "That's it?
Uh, I mean. That's it. I think I'll stay for...whatever test I need to do next."
amended Cap leading wise. "Uh, that's if it's ok with the both of you two,
docs."

Brackett jumped right on in, blinking out of his own mind fuzz. 
"Sure. First we'll have to determine how deprived you actually
are from getting any rest. We'll test how fast and likely you are to dozing
off or falling asleep in common everyday situations. Then we'll
contrast those findings to how you feel when you're just feeling tired.
To do this we run two studys, The Multiple Sleep Latency Test, the MSLT,
which measures the speed of falling asleep and the second one, The Maintenance 
of Wakefulness Testing, the MWT, is a quantitative measurement to help 
a physician determine how long wakefulness can be maintained by the 
patient."

Gage piped up. "Oh, I see. How fast does he crash and how long can
he fight it?"

"Exactly." Kel and Joe said at the same time.

"Whatever. Let's just get on with it, shall we?" Cap fidgetted as
he rustled the sheets around his hospital gown restlessly.

Soon, he was counting sheep with the best of them.

-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

"So, how'd it go?" asked Gage in the locker room a few days later
as he and Roy walked in.

Cap was shaving in a mirror across the way, brushing on foam for
the straight edge that he always liked to use. Strangely enough,
he didn't turn around to chew them out for prying into his private
affairs again.

"Hey, .. Cap.. you deaf or something? My partner thought he asked you
a question here." Roy laughed.

"I heard ya. I'm....just busy.."

"Oh, yeah? Busy doing what?" Gage asked moving to a sink
to go wash his hands clean of the shoe polish that he had just got done 
using. 

Cap oddly angled away from him again, showing his two men only
the back of his head in a careful contrivance. 

While avoiding the paramedics, Hank forgot one crucial direction.
The door they had arrived through.

In sailed Chet Kelly. 

"OhmyG*d, Cap, you got a nose job.."

"He did what?!" snorted both Roy and Johnny incredulously.

Abandoning whatever they were doing, Roy and Johnny cornered Cap 
craftily and spun him around so they could all see. 

Johnny started laughing. "It's true.." he breathed aloud. "Nice bandaid 
job. What'd they do? Correct a deviated septum?"

Hank's glare fell away and his shoulders, squared in anger, wilted. "Yep." 
he said simply. 

Marco and Stoker had heard the shouting and had come to investigate
all the hubbub.

"Say.. Cap...." said Lopez in admiration. "They did a nice job, fixing ya.." 

Mike added more. "You may look and feel like Pinnocchio, but I'm sure
I can rig something up with your helmet to hide your schnoz from
the general public. Maybe one of those face plates that Hazmat wears
all the time."

"Very funny." Hank said.

Henry waddled in right then, took one look at Cap, and ran out in
a panic.

"Now don't start feeling more self conscious, Cap. He's just a dog."
said Roy hurriedly.

"My feelings are crushed here." Hank said for real. "And it's 
gonna take about two months of me using a C.P.A.P. machine at 
home and here at the station while I heal inside before I'm deemed 
normal again by all the docs."
 
"You're kidding.." sighed Kelly, his eyes going wide. "Gage, you know 
what this means, don't you?"

"No. What?" Gage asked, having lost interest in Cap's situation. He was 
concentrating completely on polishing his teeth with some Pepsodent.

"It means that I'm not getting promoted anywhere for another year." 
elaborated Hank meaningfully. "You can both kiss all your becoming a 
captain pipe dreams goodbye." And he left the room, laughing up a storm, 
for the coffee pot.

The others followed him.

Chet didn't stay downtrodded for long. He started sighing in a haze at 
a private memory once he had re-found the ticket stub from the Fireman's
Ball they had attended the day before in his shirt pocket.

"Are you still thinking about her?" Roy asked in irritation.

"And how..." answered Chet. "Gage did you see Dixie's dress? Man,
guys were falling down all over the place. Including me."

"I wasn't." muttered Roy sharply. "I'm a happily married man."

"Suuurreee you are." Chet teased. "Bet you were thinking the same 
thing all the rest of us were the second she showed up at the top of
that stairs landing. Woooweee..Dixie can sure be one 
hot babe when she sets her mind to it. I thought Brackett was gonna 
stumble down those stairs right after her for a second there. But
Joe caught him nicely. Cap didn't you see her? Talk about your
stunning night gowns. Hers was the mother of--"

"Nah, missed it. I must have been taking a nap." sighed Cap sadly, 
and he walked away.



FIN

Eligibility - Episode Thirty
Emergency Theater Live
 
----------------------------------------------------

Photo:  Stoker and Gage at a run with the gear 
             from the squad.

Photo:  Paramedic Karen Overstreet, crying.

Photo:  A dead baby on a bed. (simulated)

Photo:   Roy treating someone in a bedroom. 

Photo:  Gage, very sad, in a close up.

Photo:  Karen, the trainee, smiling.

Photo:  Roy and Johnny in the hallway at Rampart
             with bad news.

Photo:  Cap asking, "What?" with an incredulous look. 

Photo:  Julie London in a knockout old time ball gown.

**************************************************
 
***This current episode has just begun.
***Keep watching here daily for new episode
***scene installments.  

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

            
                            End Credits --  Episode Thirty  (Fourth Season)
                                      
                                              §§    Eligibility    §§


              :)         This episode is dedicated to all who've lost a child due       :)
                          to SIDS. Surviving afterwards is a testament to true love.
              :)                                                                                                                :)
 
@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@

The Story Unfolds...

Season Five, Episode Thirty One..
 
 §§  All That Glitters  §§
 
Debut Launch: March 1st, 2006. 

 
**************************************************
From: "crash200225" <crash200225@yahoo.com> 
Date: Sun Mar 12, 2006  3:39 am 
Subject: Gold Fever  
   

The men from Station 51's A-shift looked down at Johnny as he
squatted next to a wide, shallow bucket half filled with sand,
pebbles, and water.  In his hand was a small pan with sloped sides
that he carefully swirled.

"John," Cap sighed.  "You want to explain, again, why you are panning
for gold in a bucket in the station's parking lot?"

"I'm just practicing."  Johnny said as he continued the
swirling.  "You know Jim Hanes out of 110's? He and his wife, Pam, go
dredging for gold every spring and summer.  They invited me to go
with them to the Kern River for a few days to help them out in about 
two weeks."

"Doesn't the water run too swift until July?"  Roy asked, knowing his
partner would dive into anything without much thought.  "I know they
have a sign up near the road saying how many people have drown in the
river."

Johnny laughed and said, "Jim and Pam are both experienced.  They'll
keep me out of trouble.  Besides, the upper Kern, that is the river
above the dam, is off limits to dredging.  We'll be going to a small
creek that feeds into the lower Kern, below Lake Isabella.  It's all dry
except for when the snow is melting off the high Sierras."

"Isn't a dredge a large machine that suctions out the bottom of lakes and
stuff?"  Marco asked.  "It can't possibly fit into a creek, can it?"

Johnny answered,  "They make them in many sizes.  The one Jim has is
made for prospecting.  It had two pontoons about six feet long.  It
uses an engine and air compressor to power the pump, and keeps the
person under water supplied with air.  It's a little like scuba diving, only
in shallow water and instead of air tanks, there are air lines going
down to the diver's regulator. Pam said it has a three inch intake
tube that is thirty feet long. She also said you wouldn't want to put any 
body part in front of the intake. She'll be in charge of keeping the gas tank
full, because if it ever stopped, the diver digging under the creek 
would have no air.  She'll  also watch the baffle for large nuggets that 
might not get caught in it."

Cap cleared his throat and asked, "So what's your hand panning 
here got to do with it if the machine does all the work?"

"It can't do it all.  Jim said it's easy to pick out the small
nuggets, but you still gotta pan the old fashion way to get the fine flakes
that the baffle may not catch.  You pan the sand and small pebbles
that flow off the end of the conveyor for the majority of the flakes."

Chet couldn't resist.  "You're a flake, Johnny, for getting caught
up in all of this. I hate to inform you, but the great Californian 
Gold Rush was over two hundred years ago."

Johnny ignored him. Pointedly.

Mike shook his head at Chet's remark and inquired,  "Isn't a baffle
kind of like a sifter in rapids with all the gold settling heavier than the 
rock and sand? Don't the larger nuggets stay in the bottom of this 
baffle thing while most of all the rest flows over them and off the dredge?"

Johnny grinned.  "Yep, except the baffles are thin and metal.  Kinda
like rungs on a ladder that have been laid flat."

"Well, Johnny, sounds like you know a lot about this."  stated
Roy.  "Sounds like it might be kinda fun doing all that."

"Yeah, it does sound like fun.  I can't wait." Johnny replied.

"You're going to have to, John.  Get this cleaned up.  You have cooking
duty and it's almost lunch.  I don't know about the rest of you, but
I'm starved."  Cap said as his stomach growled.

"Be right in, Cap."  Johnny sighed as he started cleaning up the 
mess he had made.  "Man, you should see some of the gold nuggets 
they've found already. They're beautiful."

Roy smirked.  "I think you've got gold fever, you know that? You're
practically salivating here just talking about it."

"No, I don't." said Gage, putting dripping hands carefully onto his hips.

"Johnny, I'm telling you, you have gold fever.  You should see your
eyes when you talk about it.  They light up like, well, sun glinting
off a piece of gold."  Roy retorted, still smirking.

"No, they d-..."

"Gage. Lunch. Now."  came the voice of Cap from the bay door.

"On my way."  Johnny mumbled.  "Gold fever. I do not have gold
fever.  I'm gonna get rich.  Maybe I'll even find the motherlode
all the stories say is still up there."

Roy just shook his head as he followed Johnny into the station. He
knew he'd be listening to his partner for the next two weeks about
this adventure he was going to go on.

------------------------------------------------------------------------

Photos: None.

**************************************************
From: "Roxy Dee" <laterrapincabesa@hotmail.com> 
Date: Thu Mar 16, 2006  11:17 am 
Subject: Red, Red, Wine, You Make Me Feel So Fine~~ 

 
Lunch was in full swing and Johnny was trying his hand at
making something that wasn't a natural recipe in his family.
Spaghetti.

"Here, Chet. Come help me add these roma tomatoes to
the sauce. It's almost ready." Gage said, holding out a paring
knife.

"It's not my day for k.p. detail. It's yours." Chet said, opening up
the refrigerator in a hunt for something to drink before lunch.
His stomach rumbled audibly.

"Quit being so stubborn here. By the sound of all things gastronomical, 
you're hungrier than Cap is." Johnny said in exasperation. "Now help me
out before the sauce bruises."

Hank gave a snort from where he was reading his newspaper. "Sauce
can bruise?"

Roy piped up from a shoe he was polishing. "I think he means scorching."

"No, I meant what I said." Johnny insisted, still holding out the knife for
Chet to take while he quickly stirred the pan with the simmering hamburger,
the pot with the boiling linguini and tossed the wooden bowl holding fresh 
nearly whole romaine and raddichio greens to coat them with Caesar 
dressing. "You know, where the sauce turns dark from under attention."

"Scorching." Roy mouthed silently to the others as he shrugged again, 
without looking up.

Gage stalked over to Chet and opened his palm and handed him
the vegetable knife like a surgical assistant handing off an operating
tool. "Go slice 'em up, wouldya? Please? I only got two hands ya know."

"All right, Johnny. Don't have a cow. I will. But under protest. Everyone, you're
my official witnesses. This means I get to ask Johnny here to do something
next time it's my turn to cook." said Kelly.

"Done." said Cap. "Hurry it up, Kelly. Me and the rest of the gang are still 
starving."

"I'm hurrying. I'm hurrying." said, Chet, glancing down at the cutting board
as he chunked up the smallish tomatoes and added them to Johnny's
sauce pot. When Gage wasn't looking, he added more burgundy wine
to the hamburer in a quick splash and turned up the heat to denature the 
extra added alcohol away.

Johnny glanced back at the fresh hiss of steam but didn't catch on at all.

Then the oven buzzer went off. Gage hurried over and shut off the knob.
He was so frantic about making sure nothing burned that he forgot to
remember using heating pads when he reached for the bread tray.

Hank bellowed out loud. "Gloves!"

Gage immediately snatched his hand back with a wince. "Sorry, Cap. I
forgot."

"Yeah? Well one of these days, you're gonna remember on your own."
Hank chuckled. "The oven's no different a place than inside a car wreck
for safeguarding yourself. Aren't you sick of getting stitches at Rampart
yet?"

"Apparently not." Roy giggled, turning around to toss the pads to his
partner so he could take out the garlic french bread length from the
oven.

"How often do I cook here? I'm entitled to a few mistakes. Usually I rate
all the latrine detail."

"That's for being tardy, John. Not because we don't like your cooking."
Cap corrected.

Chet chuckled.
"He's not the brightest bush in the woods, DeSoto. I don't know how
you've managed to work together for so long without him managing to 
chop off one of your arms or legs with a roaring K-12."

"I'm bigger than he is. Whenever it inadvertantly points at me or a victim
I usually wrestle the blade away from our danger zone in time." replied Roy.

"You shouldn't have to. " Chet said looking up. "That's the point I'm mak---OwW!
Cr*p." he said, dropping the knife and putting a smartly cut finger into his mouth.
He left the back counter to go sit down on the couch near Henry. "I'm through."

"You're not done yet." complained Johnny.

"There's only one tomato left to cut up. You do it." said Chet mumbling around his
index finger. "I'm a little busy right now stopping this from---" he broke off
what he was saying when a strong squirt of blood gushed out from between his
teeth and down his chin. Kelly immediately paled and he pulled it out, staring
dumbly at his fountaining finger. He groaned, "Oh, ...I.. think I did a Gage, guys.
I think I'm gonna be--" Then he crumpled and sagged, landing chin up with his 
head flung over the back of the couch. He stopped moving and his eyes fluttered 
shut.

"Chet..quit kidding." said Marco. "So you nicked an artery. That cut's small
enough for you to handle."

"Chet?" Roy said, looking up.

Henry whined and started sniffing at Chet's lax face, ignoring the bleeding finger.
Then the color washed completely out of Chet's lips, too.

All the guys slammed out of their seats and rushed over to him.

Cap snapped out an order. "Gage, turn off the stove first. Then you can
get over here." he said as he crouched down next to Kelly. He put a hand
to Chet's neck to feel for a pulse. He expected it to be fast from  
typical faking it while joking tension, but it wasn't. "It's slow." he said, 
looking up in surprise. "Very slow."

"I'll go get the gear." Roy said. He grabbed a towel from the table. He tossed
it to Lopez. "Here. Stop that finger hemorrhaging. Wipe his mouth
out, too, so he can breathe a little better. I'll be right back."

"You mean he's not faking, Cap?" Johnny said, the smile leaving his face as
he got to the couch.

"Not this time. What happened?" Hank asked, a little worried.

Johnny frowned as he pulled out a penlight. "Dilated pupils? I don't know
yet. Let's get him onto the floor. Marco, quit messing with his face. The blood's
all mopped up already. His throat sounds clear. Concentrate on that finger 
instead. See if you can tell how bad it might be tendon wise once it stops 
bleeding."

"Gage. It's nothing. I can tell already. Looks like a pinprick." Marco said.

"Then it's just a lucky poke then." Johnny sighed.

"You mean unlucky." frowned Stoker. "Want me to get the O2?"

"Not yet. He was hyperventilating a little. Remember? He was sure
arguing up a storm with me. Last thing we wanna do is flood his
system with too much."

Roy arrived with the trauma box, the biophone and the EKG monitor.
"How's he doing, Johnny?"

"Still blacked out."

"His pressure coming back up yet?" asked Cap, keeping Kelly's
head tilted back gently so he could breathe without problems.

Johnny felt at the wrist, and when he felt at the brachial groove, he still 
felt nothing. He moved to another check at Chet's carotid and found a weak
sluggish beat there. "Nope. It's still sitting somewhere below seventy."

"Doesn't make sense. Chet's not squeamish. Not at all." said Marco.
"So why did he pass out? Is it because he cut his finger?"

"There must be another reason why he fainted. Something we haven't
found yet." said Roy, unbuttoning Chet's uniform shirt. He was going to
cut apart Kelly's t-shirt with his clothes shears, but checked himself 
and pulled the material up loosely around his jawline instead. Then he 
reached for a blood pressure cuff from a gear box."Nicking an artery where 
he has usually doesn't hurt at all."

Then Stoker pointed out something. "Look at his left arm, Gage. Is
that a bandaid?"

Johnny turned Kelly's arm while Roy started to get a blood pressure reading.
"It sure is." He pulled it off. "Looks like a needle mark or something here.
Right at the crook of the elbow."

"He's got one over here, too." said Marco, pointing to the right arm.

"What the heck?" Johnny rocked back onto his heels in exasperation.
"Now I know Chet isn't some kind of cheap street junkie. What are these
for?"

Cap, fiddling with Chet's t-shirt to expose his chest area further for the 
monitor's pads, found the final clue. It was a red sticker with white lettering 
on it. "I think I got the answer to that. Found this sticker on his shirt here. It 
says," and he squinted as he read the fine print. "I gave blood today."

Johnny asked. "Does it have a date on it?"

"Yep. And a time. This morning. About two hours ago." Hank replied with a
relieved sigh. He began tapping Chet's face lightly with a few fingers. "Hey..
Chet.. Come on, pal. Wake up now. You're doing just fine." he said, keeping his 
steady airway hold on him using both of his knees like a vice on either side of
Chet's head.

Kelly finally moaned weakily. He tried to cough then, beginning to come to.

"Atta boy. Try to open those eyes. Lunch's getting cold waiting for us." smiled Hank.

Chet began to breathe in deeper and deeper but remained half out.

"So that's why he was digging in the frig for something to drink early. He probably
didn't take the juice the nurse handed out at the blood center like he should
have because he was late coming in to work." Gage said, noticing how he
was waking up.

Marco got busy with the limb leads. Then he hesitated. "He's gonna need
a shaver. He's more furry than an Italian stallion here. I can't find places to stick
these."

"I'll get one." said Stoker, rising to his feet. He jogged out for a disposable one
from the locker room spares box.

Johnny got up and got two of the couch cushions propped up under Chet's feet
and legs. "This'll speed things up a little faster. Roy, his pulse's still forty.
But regular."

"Vasovagal?" DeSoto asked, pulling the stethoscope down and out of his ears.

"That'd be my best guess. Still wanna call Rampart?" Johnny asked, holding up
the unactivated phone receiver.

"Do you?" Roy asked, looking a little shell shocked and slightly annoyed.

Coughing self consciously, Gage tossed it aside a few seconds later. "Let's scope 
him first and see what we got. Then we'll decide on things. He's not that sweaty yet.
The color's back in his lips. Hey, Chet. You with me yet?" he said, digging a firm 
knuckle into his breastbone.

Chet twitched his arms and groaned, but didn't open his eyes.

Mike returned with the shaver. He bent down to begin work when Roy stopped him.
"He'll kill us all if we do that." Then he pulled out a small bottle of Arrid 
extra dry from his back pocket and an alcohol pad. He spread some on like defib
gel in the right places before wiping it off judiciously with the finger's towel. After the
same move with alcohol and another wipe off, he added a second coat from his sample
sized Arrid roll on. "Ok, now try them, Marco."

"Where'd you learn that trick?" asked Cap as the pads stuck through the furry mat of
Chet's chest hair.

"In Nam. From a very saucy nurse major named Hot Lips Hoolihan." Roy grinned.
"She taught me a lot of front line medic tricks like that one. Those pads are gonna keep
on sticking for at least a week." he said, flipping on the scope. "Still got brady showing, 
Johnny. But nothing grossly abnormal is really apparent here."

"Let me see."

DeSoto turned the scope so Cap and Gage could both see it. The rate was rising but
still a bit sluggish.

Henry barked loudly from his place sitting up on the remaining couch cushion and 
that made Kelly twitch into consciousness, working better than smelling salts. 

"Oh,.. my head." Chet coughed. "Dizzy..." Then he realized where he was.
"What am I doing on the floor?"

"You fainted." Johnny grinned, picking up Chet's hand to examine the finger
nick. "Right after you did this.." he said showing Kelly the tiny wound.

"I did not."

Cap laughed. "You sure weren't sleeping any. How do you feel now?"
he asked, releasing Chet's head.

"I feel like something Henry dragged outta the trash."

"That's normal." Roy said. "Takes a few minutes for the body to regain its equilibrium
after an episode like this. Got any nausea?"

"A little." Chet said, rubbing his eyes.

"Next time, don't suck on a wound. Swallowing your blood is what makes you green."
Johnny told him. 

Chet tried to sit up.

"Ah. ah. ah.. Not so fast. Your pressure's low." Cap said, keeping him down.

"What's it at? Come on, guys. This is embarrassing. Let me up." Kelly whined.

Roy finally got irritated. "It's fifty over patent pending, Chet. Now that's a fairly
deep faint for just donating a little blood to the blood bank. How many bags did
you con them into taking out of you this morning?"

Chet was silent.

"Answer him, Chet. Cause if your BP doesn't rise to near normal in five minutes, you've
won yourself an I.V. wide open and a trip into Rampart. You can't keep your internal organs
under perfused for very long." Johnny growled.

"Well, you see.. I had extra bills to pay and so I went twice."

"You what?!" exclaimed Cap.

"I changed my clothes into a new disguise and went to a different 
nurse a half hour later."

"How many.." Gage pressed, getting angry.

"Five. I think, uh,... five pints." Chet peeped.

"Without eating or drinking anything?" DeSoto asked incredulously.

"Uh,.. yeah. Look guys, I really needed the money."

Hank got livid. "I don't think the fire department would enjoy dishing
out injured pay to someone stupid enough to donate on a work day
who'd actually be dumb enough then to try a scba sweep of a house fire 
afterwards. They have rules for that kind of incompetence. Stoker, 
go get him that gallon jug of orange juice. Now. He's gonna stay right here, 
on the floor, until he drinks the whole thing while we're watching."

"Aw, Cap. I'm not thirsty any more."

"That's because you're in shock, Chet. Psychogenic and maybe even
some slight hypovolemic shock."

"I am not."

"The monitor's bleeping out your brady big time." Gage insisted. "Here,
let me turn on the alarms for ya..." he yelled. The Tetronix warbled and
whistled fluting tones to beat the band over the supressed cardiac rhythm 
which only made a very worried Henry start howling. 

Until Cap turned them off again. "All right. Enough of the sand box routine.
Guys, is he serious enough to be put on the sick list?"

"No.."
  "Nope." said DeSoto and Gage. "Not for simple vasovagal syncope 
syndrome."

"Are you sure that's what this is?" Hank roared.

Gage stuttered. "Uh,.. r-reasonably sure. We'll know more after
he eats and drinks a whole ton.." he glared at Chet.

"Ok. guys, lift him into a chair. We're feeding him lunch. Is he ready
for that yet?" Hank asked no nonsense.

"Uh, hang on. Let me check." Roy said, grabbing up Chet's wrist. He
could just barely feel a pulse there. "He can sit. Pressure's back up
to at least ninety."

Kelly protested when the guys each grabbed a limb while Johnny followed
behind them with the cardiac monitor. "Oh, come on. I can walk just fine."

"No, drink and chew first. And that's an order." said Hank, pulling out a kitchen
chair. The guys set him down from their four man arm and leg sitting carry
before they hurried back to their own plates to pile them high with spaghetti. 

Johnny made it a sore point by plunking down the EKG monitor right next
to Chet's lunch plate so he could see its now tachycardic rate leap across the
screen. He turned on the periodic alarm so that it bleeped at him full volume.
"You got five minutes to make this shut up." he said, tapping the screen
with an angry finger. "Or it's Brackett's and a Ringer's time to take over. Eat!"

"And drink all of that." Roy punctuated, shoving the jug of orange juice he 
had just warmed up in the oven over to him. 

Chet suffered Marco tucking in a napkin over his T-shirt. "Ok.. ok.. I learned
my lesson." he said sheepishly. "Sorry, Cap. Didn't mean to pull a fast one
at the blood bank. I just needed to make rent I'm behind on."

"Well, why didn't you ask us all for a loan?" Gage sighed. "We would've
helped ya."

"It's not easy for a guy to ask for help money wise, is it? Gimme a break."
Chet said in complaint, holding his head as he forced himself to drink
a few large swallows straight out of the jug. Then he put it down. "So why'd
I black out? Seeing blood doesn't bother me."

"Of course it doesn't." said Roy. "Not coming from others. It's a whole different story
when it's coming out of yourself. Tell me quite truthfully, when's the last time you
cut youself wide open at an artery?"

"Uh.. I don't think I ever have before."

"Now that's pure deja moo." scoffed Stoker.

"Pure what?" Kelly asked. "What's deja moo?"

"The feeling that you've heard that line of bull before."
Stoker replied, putting a bandage over Chet's punctured
finger to keep it from bleeding out again.

"No, truthfully. I haven't. I've lived a charmed life wound wise.
And so have you, Stoker. I don't even remember the last time you
managed to hurt yourself." sniffed Chet, shoveling in his food around
some lingering nausea. A few swallows of juice later and the EKG 
monitor's alarms silenced as the rate fell below 120. "There. See?
I'm fine."

"Now you are.." mumbled Marco.

Kelly chewed a slice of bread and blushed. "So, what do they call 
what happened to me?"

"Syncope." said all the others in stereo.

Chet made a face at his orange juice. "Yuck, this stuff's putrid luke warm.
Lopez, grab me a glass of ice cubes to chill this down, would ya?"

"Sure, pal." said Marco, getting up.

Roy and Johnny both shot out of their chairs and blocked off access
to the freezer. "No you're not. That'll make him faint again."

"What? That's sheer craziness." Kelly protested. "Marco, go ahead
and grab some out for me."

Cap interceded. "No, belay that."

Chet threw up his hands. "Ok, tell me why I can't drink cold stuff."

Johnny and Roy sat down again only when Marco did first. 

Gage glared at him. "It's because your vagus nerve runs from 
your eyeballs to your butt, Chet. Ever heard of the diving reflex?
Anything monkeying around your trachea and esophagus like
cold or touch will set off another faint by dropping your heart rate
down into the basement again. Especially if that nerve's still freshly 
irritated like it is."

"What? I didn't drink cold liquids or swallow anything before.."
complained Kelly.

"No, you triggered your vagal faint for being low blood sugared and
then thinking about that active bleeding in your finger." Roy countered.
"How is it by the way? Has that finger bleeding stopped yet?"

"It has." answered Stoker for him. "And he's got full circulation,
feeling and function in it, too."

"Thanks, Mike." said Roy. "It must have just been a spurting nick then."

Gage was evil. "Better watch out, because once you've figured out how to 
do that mental trick fainting one time, Chet, you'll be able do it again." he said,
trying not to grin.

Kelly fell for it, hook, line and sinker. "You mean at the sight of blood?
Every time?" he asked genuinely crestfallen.

"Not every time. Only when you bleed out yourself. It's called negative 
association." Johnny chided. "Kids develop phobias from bad experiences
like that all the time. It's because of the way your synapses impress while in
the shock state. It sets up a spontaneous fainting tendency into your nervous 
system."

"Yeah, well I'm not a kid." Chet said defensively, feeding Henry half a bread
slice to calm him down. "That wouldn't be a good trait to have being a firefighter 
like I am. Cap, that could get nasty if I'm in a rough spot somewhere when it happens."

The others kept their silence, seeing the value of tough love.

"Gonna take work beating that new reflex." Johnny went on.

"I'll do anything you tell me." Kelly said gratefully.

Johnny primed the pot. "Pull off those EKG pads. You've recovered."
he said, shutting off the now unbleeping EKG monitor.

Chet yanked on his wires and yelped immediately. "OwwWWW! That smarts!"

The gang burst out into loud laughter, pointing at him. Sympathetically,
Marco patted Chet on the back to ease the joke's sting.

"You mean I won't be an easy fainter after today?"

"No, you won't. Just don't give blood without eating or drinking anything
again like you did this time." Roy rescued him. "Just pull off the snaps. 
Leave the pads. I made some improvised glue to get through all that chest 
fur of yours. Figured you wouldn't mind waiting for them to fall off over waiting 
for the hair to grow back in."

"You thought right." Kelly insisted, checking out his chest unfruitfully, 
because his neck wouldn't bend that far down to allow him to see anything.
He contented himself with tucking his T-shirt back in around the pads 
and rebuttoning up his blue outer shirt. "Thanks for not splitting open my 
underwear, Roy." he said. "Uh,.. I meant, my T-shirt."

"No problem." DeSoto said, buried once again into his newspaper.
His food was already gone and milk glass empty.

Cap sighed, pushing away his own plate. "Marco, after you finish up,
put the med gear away, ok?"

"Sure, Cap."

The tones went off.

Hank kept a hand on Chet's shoulder to keep him in his chair when 
Kelly failed to realize right away that it was a call for just the squad, 
without the engine company.

Gage snatched up the EKG monitor and neatly wrapped the wires into
a coil before snapping it shut for potability. Marco helped Roy
gather up the other gear boxes to put them away into the squad's
side compartments. "Guys, keep an eye on him. Cap, make sure you
make him sleep it off after that orange juice jug's gone."

"I will." Cap promised. 

##Squad 51. Biker down at the Glen Helen Motorcross Park. 1700 West
Carlsbad Way. 1700 West Carlsbad Way. Cross street, rural route,
McKenna County 5. Time out: 12:11.##

Cap rose to acknowledge L.A. for his paramedics so they could speed
up their belting in. "10-4. Squad 51 is responding. KMG 365.." he
said into the alcove mic.

Squad 51 roared out into the brilliant morning sunlight.

------------------------------------------------------------------

Photo:   Johnny cooking souffle.

Photo:  Cap lecturing Roy and Johnny over cutting veggies.

Photo:  Chet down.

Photo:  Johnny looking down at someone on the floor in the station.

Photo:  Cap holding Henry, with oxygen and a blanket.

Photo:  The tetronix EKG monitor, turned at ya.

Photo:  The squad leaving the bay right at ya.

***************************************************************
From: Sam Iam <lafddispatcher@yahoo.com> 
Date: Fri Mar 17, 2006  5:49 pm 
Subject: Getting There.. 


Johnny started laughing spontaneously in the squad for 
no apparent reason. 

It made Roy smile when he figured out why. He glanced
over at his partner. "I know. That was sheer stupidity,
wasn't it?" he smirked.

"You think I'd be used to Chet's antics by now. But that little
stunt took the cake and ate it, too. Boy, I'm sure glad he's
all right." Gage giggled. 

"Me, too. Well, you got a chance to get your revenge out of it for
him scaring us all out of our wits like that..Have no fear."

Johnny looked at him askance. "I don't get it. How do you figure?"

Roy elaborated."He's gonna look like a vampire for the next few 
days due to his anemia. You can take advantage of that and 
get back at him for it."

Johnny blinked, totally not comprehending. 

"You know, like he teased you about being Native American 
a while back with that crazy peace pipe gag." Roy tried again. 
"Y-you can use a vampire theme."

"Oh.. Heh. How exactly do I do that?" Johnny said, leaning an elbow 
out the sunny window, seriously listening.

"You could always be subtle at the start. How about hanging garlic 
strings around your bed or... how about leaving a wooden stake 
and crucifix under Chet's pillow. "

Gage warmed up to the idea offering a thought of his own. "..or exchanging 
his sheets for a body bag.." Johnny smiled mildly. "I'm surprised at you, 
Roy. In all the years I've known you, this is the first time I've ever seen you 
trying to be sneaky. You're actually helping me plan and pull a series of fast 
ones on Kelly." Johnny gaped.

"Why not? I'm enjoying the war. And so are the rest of the guys." he sniffed,
turning back to watch the road as they sped along code three. "I'm
gonna try everything I can to keep it going. For Cap's sake."

Johnny's amused grin fell into one of wary suspicion. "For Cap's sake? 
Why uh, H-how does he fit into all of this?"

"He's got a betting pool running on the two of you." admitted Roy with 
a mild shrug.

Johnny shifted on his seat in dismay and readjusted his loose helmet
strap impatiently when they hit a series of railroad tracks without 
slowing down. "You've got money down on us?! Roy, that's unethical.
That's.. that's tacky.." he complained. Then his face completely 
changed expression. "So, who did ya pick to win?"

"You." Roy pointed. "Chet doesn't have enough class to outlast ya."

"How long do I got to beat him?" Johnny asked mildly.

"Can't tell ya." DeSoto smiled. "Because that would influence the outcome
and possibly throw off the entire contest. I don't want to skew the results 
one way or the other."

"You're all heart."

"I try to be." Roy said just as fast. "Earning a little extra cash at the expense 
of others harmlessly sure takes the sting out of the memory of all those 
short matchstick-long matchstick chore drawings I always manage to lose."

Johnny's mouth fell clear open. "Roy, you haven't managed to lose even
one of those drawings in my recollection." he said incredulously.

"Really?"

"Yes.." Gage said empathetically.

"Oh. Guess I'm remembering wrong then."

"You sure are.....Man.." Johnny sighed. Then he pointed business-like
at a turn in front of them. "Take a left here. It's a short cut and it'll save
us a minute or two."

Roy dutifully squealed the squad into the turn. "How far are we?"

"Four minutes. Tops. We should start seeing the track in the distance 
up the mountainside in a few seconds. Look right to your one o'clock."

Roy soon spotted their objective. He gave a low whistle under his breath.
" *WheWWwww* What a terrain."

Johnny nodded in agreement. "Looks like we'll have a huge crowd to 
wade through, too. Just look at all the cars! There must be ten thousand
or more folks here."

Roy silently agreed by altering their siren's slow screaming wail to a faster 
oscillation so it would be heard more clearly over the babble of excited,
highly distracted people. "Look at all the motorcycles. They must be nuts!
Did you see how high that last crunch of bikers leaped off that jump?"

"I sure did. Ouch." he said, pressing his nose against the windshield. "I think..
I think...they all made their landings ok, though." Then he squinted.
"But I can't seem to spot where the officials are waving our yellow caution flags."

"Easy way around that. We'll just drive onto the course from somewhere and run 
along it ourselves until we find them."

"What?!  Roy, no. The race is still going on. We'll kill somebody for sure."

"No we won't. Because everybody has an innate respect for anything painted
red that's bristling with pretty flashing lights. Including all the riders." he said 
cheekily. "Find me a gap in the safety fence, Johnny, would ya? Time's wasting."

Gage corked any further protest and concentrated on guiding them in.

-----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Photo:  Aerial shot of a large motorcross event.

Photo:  Crowds at a motorcross race.

Photo:   A motorcross rider leaping into the air.

Photo:   Motorcross race leaders cresting a dirt hill.

Photo:  A motorcross rider sitting air.

Photo:  Squad 51 running down a dirt track behind a crunch of
           motorcross bikers.

************************************************************************
 From: Jeff Seltun <finiterider@yahoo.com> 
Date: Sun Mar 26, 2006  6:27 pm 
Subject: Much Too Little, Too Late 

Johnny slowly let go of his tight hold on the dashboard and window frame
as the squad successfully made the track and was deftly avoided by
the bouncing, flying, motorcycle racers. Soon, the main pack outdistanced
them and disappeared over the crest of a dirt hill. "Whew.. glad that's over.
I was half expecting one of them to land on top of the squad or something
from that hilltop turn back there."

"It would never happen." grinned Roy. "We're throwing off a warning 
dust cloud five times the size of one of theirs. Anybody'd be a fool to
take a jump into something like that." DeSoto kept to the very center of
the track, moving carefully forward, waiting on his speed until the dirt plume 
billowing in front of them from the departing riders dissipated. Soon, they
had a clear view of the wide course snaking on ahead of them.

A white and red glint attracted Johnny's attention. It was a retired cadillac
ambulance parked prominently on the sidelines. Its attendants were oblivious
to the rushing rescue squad as they watched another serpentine bend in the 
track where all the riders were competing with each other for the front spot in
between spectacular aerials acrobatics. One of the white clothed men
was taking rapid photos of the leapers as they passed the sun faded old
ambulance by. "Well, at least they have all the insurance angles covered. They've 
got a volunteer crew over there. But I don't think they have radios on them.
I'm not seeing any antennaes on the roof of their ambulance." he said, peering
after the red bandana head wrapped men.

"Maybe they're working CB from the broadcasters booth. Those TV announcers
would have the best view of the track of anybody from their building." suggested 
Roy.

"Yeah, but let's still use our own service with Mayfair when we get there all right?  
The idea of letting those public ambulance attendants handle one of my patients, 
gives me the willies."

"If you say so. They're still trained properly, Johnny. Or the state never
would have issued this motorcross event their racing permits." said Roy.

"Doesn't mean I have to work with em. Would you? They both have just
sneakers on." he complained. Gage suddenly pointed. "There! There! Officials 
are waving a whole lotta yellow flags along the right margin on the straightaway. 
And it looks like the crash bales have been knocked out of their alignment."

"That's it." said Roy, looking into his peek mirror to be sure that no straggling
bikers were moving around them before he hauled on the steering wheel to
get over there quickly.

Gage was out of the truck even before it stopped moving. "What's happening here?
he asked the nearest one. "Is this the right place for us?"

"Yes. A biker lost control in the air and landed wrong. We're getting him uncovered
a little better for ya." said the polo shirted official, pointing.

Roy and Johnny both glanced over in that direction while they rapidly pulled off
their helmets and left them on top of the squad while they got all their medical gear
out. A sea of backs from well meaning volunteers were clustered around a tangle
of haybales. Gage saw a pale, limp arm flop down in between a couple of feet.
He roared. "Hey! Don't move him around like that! All of you, just back off! What
if he's got a back injury or something? You wanna paralyze him?!" he said, rushing 
over to a helmeted young man lying on the ground. He had one booted leg still 
draped over a straw bale.

Murmuring apologies, the audience crowd gave him space and belatedly, 
a couple of police officers rushed up to push them back behind the sagging
chain link fence.

The downed rider was unconscious and bleeding heavily from his chin. 

Hearing the sound of weak choking, Johnny pulled out an oral airway from the
squad's resuscitator case and curled it carefully over the man's tongue to ease 
his difficult, rapid breathing. He told the referee who had tried in vain to keep
all the worried spectators from interfering, now at the rider's head, to keep holding
the man's helmet still while he suctioned out some saliva and dirt from the man's
mouth with an active wand. Then he placed an oxygen mask over the rider's nose
and mouth on high flow. "Roy. His legs are shivering. Pulse's weak but
regular."

Roy moved some of the fallen hay off the man's sun sweaty body. 
"Priapism's starting up. If he didn't have one before, he's definitely got 
a spinal cord compromise now." he said grimly, glaring up at the race 
enthusiastic, beer perfumed crowd who was now ignoring them. :: Someone's 
gonna have hell to pay for moving this injured man.:: thought Roy. ::I hope the 
TV cameras are still recording the incident. It'd be nice if this man's family 
had a legal recourse to follow up with later on. That's if we can get him
to survive that long.:: "I've found a left femur fracture and open left tib/fib ....
His chest seem to be clear though." DeSoto shared, lifting his stethoscope 
away from the man's lungs. He tested the man's pelvic stability and found 
an outward softening motion. "Possible pelvis, too." 

"I'll get a pressure. 130 at the carotid. Breathing's 22 and real shallow." said 
Gage.

Roy nodded grimly, looking at the stunned track official. 

"I'm sorry. I tried to shove them off of him but they wouldn't listen to me. 
Most of these people watching the race are drunk." said the man.

"You let alcohol in during an event like this?" Gage said, venting some 
frustration and anger as he cut away the man's nylon jump suit to unstrap 
the man's knee and elbow crash pads to look for more fractures and 
bleeding.

"I don't make the rules around here. I only try to enforce those they tell me 
about. I guess the sponsors feel that this race is no different than a baseball 
game as long as the riders don't drink anything themselves." said the dusty, 
head holding official.

"Yeah, well here's some fallout for you to go tell all of your sponsors once 
we're through treating this man. He's paralyzed now, however indirectly, 
because of that little ruling of theirs about beer and alcohol being allowed 
for spectators. Maybe if that fence line over there were in better repair, 
the general crowd might not have been able to swarm onto the track to 
monkey with this injured rider in the first place! How about them apples, 
huh?" Johnny hissed quietly into his face. Then Gage turned his back on 
him to set up the biophone to notify Rampart of their victim.
"Rampart, this is Squad 51. How do you read?"

##51, this is Rampart.## came Dr. Brackett's voice. ##We read you loud 
and clear.##

"Motorcross biker down. Please stand by. We're set to immobilize a freely 
breathing spinal injury." said Gage.

##10-4, Standing by.##

Johnny set the phone receiver down.

The track man's bland haughtiness fell away into one of shock and he 
glanced over to the sideline margins as if seeing the tattered metal chain 
link fence for the first time."I never even considered that aspect... I-."

"It's not your job to do that. It's theirs." said Roy. "At least, you're helping 
us with him right now and that's what matters here. Don't feel guilty about 
this, ok? You tried your best to do what you could with what you had to 
work with. We can still make a good difference if things decide to go our 
way. He's gonna have to fight if he wants to live after today but live he 
will with a little help from all three of us, mister, if we're lucky. 
Ready to help us roll him onto this longboard? Johnny and I are going to 
be busy using these sand bags next. We're gonna immobilize his head 
and neck safely in a good line without taking this helmet off so things can't 
be made any worse for him after we get him centered on the board inside 
of these mast trousers."

"O- ok.." said the official numbly. "I'm ready. I've got a real good hold 
here." he added eagerly. He was gripping the pale biker's helmet so 
tightly that his tanned fingers were turning white.

Roy poked Johnny with an elbow while he connected the biker to the 
EKG monitor, hinting for him to soothe the track official a little. Gage 
looked at him. "I never said it was your fault. I just wanted you to be a 
messenger, sir. For all this track's future injured riders' sakes."  
Johnny managed to put on a convincing smile and all it took was a 
brief touch on the shoulder to make the man relax whole yards.  

Soon, the unconscious rider was bundled with the mast suit's first 
chamber ready to inflate on Kel's order.

Roy began filling the hospital in with their findings...

-----------------------------------------------------------------------------

Photo:  Motorcross sideline referees.

Photo:  Motor biker down in tangled haybales.

Photo:  A biker's unconscious face with an oral airway.

Photo: Roy on the biophone while Johnny treats in the background.

Photo:  Brackett leaning down into the base station receiver.

**************************************************
From: "patti keiper" <pattik1@hotmail.com> 
Date: Wed Mar 29, 2006  10:01 am 
Subject: The Fudge Factor.. 

"Rampart, we've a male, approximately 25-30 years of age weighing 
150 pounds. Unconscious and unresponsive to pain. Multiple trauma's 
apparent. He's got a head injury of nonspecific origin with a laceration 
on his chin, a possible pelvic fracture, also involving his left femur directly. 
He has an open left tib/fib with circulation. Uh, there are also positive signs 
of spinal cord insult originating below the waist. He has non-essential tremors 
evident in both lower extremities. Vitals signs are : 
BP is 74 systolic. Pulse rate's 140 and weak. Respirations are 22 on fifteen 
liters of O2. Pupils are reactive but sluggish on the right. Our victim has 
been helmet and long board immobilized, Rampart. And that's affirmative, 
we have him placed in a PASG par your standing orders." said Roy over the 
roar of racing bikers and the crowd's cheering.

##51, you've anticipated my next question. Go ahead and inflate the abdominal
and right leg chambers one at a time, starting with the pelvic compartment first. 
We need to get that BP up now in spite of the risks. Start two large bore I.V.s
of Ringer's Lactate in both arms and send me a strip. Also, draw a red top
for a type and cross if you can.## said Brackett. 

"10-4, Rampart. This will be lead 2." said Roy twisting a dial inside the comm
box so the hospital started receiving what they were seeing on the scope.
Then he abandoned the phone. "Johnny, would you start pumping up the 
suit here? We'll do his stomach first before that uninjured leg. Go slowly. 
I'll monitor his BP while you're doing it. We can't go higher than 90 with
that possible head injury.  Are you able to find a vein on him?"

"Not yet." said Johnny, searching swiftly for one with temporarily tied off 
tourniquets. "He's getting too shocky in his arms and I think his jugulars have 
already started collapsing. I couldn't find them well enough for a good stick."

"Go IO on his right leg then. We'll leave worrying about trying something new 
before it's officially become official for later. You ok with doing that?"
Roy asked him, making sure that he had definite eye contact with Gage.

"Like we have any other choice. He'll die without getting I.V. fluids." Gage 
scoffed, working fast. Soon, he had a set of running lines into the man's tibia 
just below his right knee. "How's his pressure doing now? I got these patent
using sixteen gauges." he said, securing the flowing lines with double the tape
to hold them still. He hung both large bags off the side of a stack of hay bales.

Roy looked up from the sphyg dial and pulled off his stethoscope. "It's 84/50. 
Let's hold off on inflating that right leg. We can't do that side now because
we've got those I.V.s there."
 
"And we can't put on a Hare traction splint either on the left because
of that pelvis break. Ok. I'll monitor his respirations get him suctioned out
a little more." A few seconds later, Johnny spoke aloud to Roy when his guilt 
was highest. "Roy, I might as well give Brackett a head's up on what we did
that deviated." Gage sighed. He reached for the phone his partner handed to 
him. "Rampart, Squad 51."

##Go ahead, Johnny.##

"His pressure's in a climb, but only into the eighties with very poor extremity
perfusion even with the MAST's abdominal cavity inflated. We had no choice 
but to go intraosseus, doc."

##That was jumping the gun a bit on protocols but I'll cover for your actions. 
You both were more than right for going that route. He's in no shape to follow 
the usual run of the mill standards.## Kel said bruskly. ##Did you get both the 
lines in?##

"That's affirmative, doc. And both are on full flow."

##Support his respirations as necessary and get him in here by air.##

"10-4. Uh, we're not in a location suitable enough to call for a chopper. We're
in a large crowd." Johnny told him."Our ETA is at least fifteen minutes by land." 

Johnny heard Brackett let out a huge frustrated sigh. 
##Do what you can to keep him stabilized, 51. I'll have a surgical ward 
open and waiting upon your arrival. Bring him directly there.##

"We're on our way, Rampart." Johnny said.

----------------------------------------------------------------------------------

They were loading up the Mayfair they had summoned when the track
official ran up to them again. "Guys, don't go yet. A report about a couple
of kids colliding on their bikes has just been called in to the main booth."

"More motorcrossers?" asked Johnny.

"No, this time it's two children on the side lines. A camera man told me 
that one of them is still lying down on the ground, not moving."

Roy let out his breath. "Johnny, use your HT and I'll relay to Rampart about what
you find as long as I can while we're still within range of each other. I've got him." 
DeSoto said, pulling out what drugs he thought he might use if the racer suddenly 
lost a pulse. "I'll take out just some crash doses."

"Keep the defibrillator, too." said Johnny. "I'll call for another squad if I have to.
I'll use the track's ambulance as my backup for an extra pairs of hands." he added
as he took back the drug and trauma boxes.

"All right. I'm set. Good luck with them." he teased about the civilian ambulance
crew.  Gage made a face as his partner closed the rig's doors. Johnny delivered
two loud 'I'm locked up.' signal smacks against the door so the driver in front knew 
that Roy was now ready for departure.

He didn't even watch as the Mayfair sped away with screaming sirens for he had
turned all of his attention to the track official. "Here. Put this on and get in." Gage 
said, handing off Roy's sun warmed helmet to the fretful man as he put the
gear boxes back into their side storage racks.

"What? I'm riding with you in there?" blubbered the man about the squad.

"Yes. Because you're the only one of the two of us who knows where we're going.
Would you just hurry a little and buckle up? Kids go sour real fast, mister."
Johnny urged him, jogging to the driver's side door.

Soon, they were on their way and off the main track. But in seconds, they found 
themselves surrounded by the thickest of the milling crowds and they were forced
to slow way down. 

Johnny was relentless and leaned on the horn and whooped the siren at times 
to get their attention. "Don't people know we're responding to a medical 
emergency?!" he said slamming his hands down onto the steering wheel as they 
were stalled by a crush of bodies yet again.

"I suppose they do, but they're too distracted to pay any attention." said the 
track man. "Wait, I have an idea that might work. " He pulled out his private 
band walkie talkie and asked for concessions. 

"What are you doing?" Johnny asked in exasperation.

"Shh." said the man apologetically. "Gimme a sec, ok? This'll work.
Hiya, Stu? We need a Pabst truck asap to the western concourse. We're
bone dry. Would you get on it? Ok, thanks." and he shoved down his
antennae on his radio. "Problem solved."

"No, it's not.." insisted an agitated Gage.

"Sure it is.. Look."

A huge semitruck dripping refrigerator fog through an open rear door
slowly lumbered to a position in front of them. Painted in a broad image
across its side in advertisement, was a case of dew dripping beer bottles.
All the truck driver had to do was tap his horn once and the crowd parted
like the Red Sea before Moses. 

Gage began to smile. "Heh. Guess it is. I'm right on his tail." he said, 
putting the squad into drive once more. 

"Yep. You got the idea all right. People will always listen to their stomachs.
I'm surprised you didn't know that being a paramedic and all." he said
in amazement. 

Johnny just laughed.

Two minutes later, they found the accident site. Bikes were the mechanism
involved only they weren't the motorized kind. One bike was pink and the other was 
green and both had foot pedals. "Oh, I see now. The kids were trying to emulate 
the big guys by making their own track and jumps?"

"You got it. Right here in between all the campers.." sighed the official.

Gage hurried out of the cab with his HT and the 02 apparatus and 
went to the side of a small African American boy still entangled in the handle 
bars of his fallen bike."Hey, son. You doing ok? Can you hear me?"

The boy started to move where he lay on his back. "...Yeah.. Ow..
I wanna get up. I'm ok I tell you."

"Don't move yet." Gage said, holding a hand against his chest. "Let me 
check you out first to see how hurt you are."

"Who are you?"

"I'm a paramedic. My name's Johnny. What's yours?"

"Keenan." groaned the boy. 

"Is this your boy, ma'am?" Johnny asked, finding the woman who most looked
like his new victim.

"Yes, he is."

"Did he lose consciousness at all when this happened?"

"I don't think so. He just said he hit a jump wrong and landed on another girl
and her bike. He walked back here to tell me that and then he just sort
of fell over again and the bike came with him." said the mother.

"It did? Uh, Ok. And where is this second girl?" Gage asked, 
plying for more details. 

"Right over there." offered the boy's mother.

Johnny turned about on his squatted toes. Then he spotted his 
other victim. "I'll be right back, Keenan, ok? Just lay still for a minute 
more. Falls like this can get tricky. They can come back and bite you." 
he told the boy with a nod. "Are you dizzy?"

"No. Never was."

"Just so you know, I AM gonna take another look." he said firmly.  
"Only I can clear you of everything so don't hide the slightest 
thing from me when I get back. I'll be able to tell."

Keenan just sighed where he was still stretched out in the dirt. 
"At least, get this bike off me, it's getting heavy."

Johnny set it up and applied its kickstand.

Gage hurried over to the little girl. Two first aiders from the track
were already attending her where she sat stunned on the ground.
"Is she all right?" he asked them.

"I don't think it's anything we can't handle, sir." said one of them.

"That boy's mom over there said that he just landed on her with his bike." 
Gage told them. "That kind of force might have done quite a bit of 
damage to her internally even though her consciousness level seems 
ok so far. The only way to tell is for me to get a vitals set on her.
Is it all right if I take a look at her first before you bring her and
her parents to the first aid station?" 

"Sure, don't you outrank us or something?" smiled one of the men.

"Guess I do, I never thought of it quite in that way before." he grinned.
Gage looked the blonde girl over carefully. But the only thing she was
complaining about was a bumped chin and a couple of scraped up palms.
"Stick around, would ya. I'm gonna go take a vitals set on the first boy
and then I'll be back to get hers."

The ambulance men and parents were amenable so they waited, the
first aiders giving a status update to their department heads sitting in 
the announcer's booth.

Johnny returned to the boy's side. "How are you feeling now?"

"All right. Is it ok to move anything yet? This sun's getting too bright for
my eyes." complained the boy.

The track official took off his fire helmet and used its shadow
to block off the sun over the child's face.

"Thanks." sighed the boy as Johnny put away his penlight
after a pupillary exam.

"Do you hurt anywhere down here?" Johnny asked, feeling the long bones
in the boy's arms, and legs. He took a pulse at his wrist and found it
to be normal. "Can you feel me touching your feet?"

"Uh huh."

"Ok, move them for me. Just a little."

The boy's reactions came quickly and he didn't seem to be in any pain.

"How about your hands and arms? Can you move them as well?"

"Yeah.."

"How's your neck and back? Did you hurt them at all?"

"Nope. Just my pride.." groaned the boy. "Just gimme some ice! That's
all I need! I keep telling you guys that I'm fine. Why aren't people 
listening to me?"

The other bike girl piped up. "Because we're just kids, duh. Don't be stupid." 
she grumbled. "Look what you did. My hands are all messed up!"

"I didn't do nothin!" said the boy, sitting up. "It was your fault you
didn't follow my right of way rights. I can't help it if you were dumb
enough to ride past an active jump."

"Hey, hey, hey. now. Just settle down, the both of ya." Johnny 
shouted. "The important thing isn't trying to figure out who was right 
and who was wrong here. The most important thing is about seeing who's 
hurt and who's not, ok? So how are ya?" he asked the boy, grabbing his 
shoulder to get his glaring attention back. 

"I keep telling ya. I'm fine. I just didn't get up again because everybody
kept telling me not to so I wouldn't get paralyzed or something worse."
the boy said angrily.

The track official just shrugged self consciously. "Uh, I did make that
kind of announcement to all my employees on wide band while
you were treating the first injury.. Sorry."

"Don't be sorry. You did right by doing that. It's always better to play
things safer. I'm just trying to make sure things are really ok and all. 
Son, is it just your butt?" Gage asked, whispering so the still angry
little girl wouldn't overhear.

"Yeah. And yes, I can still firehose ok, too. Don't have to find out
about whether or not I can do things the other way because I already did."
the boy complained, reddening in fury.

A rising waft of wind shared that fact with Johnny right then, clearly. The
paramedic bent low, placing a hand over the boy's shoulders.
"I would have been scared sh*tless, too, if I saw I where I was going to 
crash. Don't feel bad about it." he whispered again, trying not to chuckle
at the boy's embarrassment.

"Have you ever--?"

"Of course. And it happened when I was much older than you are right now."
said Johnny animatedly. "I think I was twelve."

"What happened?"

Johnny admitted. "I wiped out waterskiing in a reservoir. Gimme
your arm. I've got to take a blood pressure reading. Then one of 
these fussy men over here will get you that icepack donut you want 
so bad."

"They'd better. I'll use it after mom gets me another pair of Under Roos
and jeans. But I don't know where I can change into them. We aren't camping
here."

"Tell you what. I'll hold up a fire tarp around ya so you can do that." Johnny 
promised. Then he got his reading. "100 overrrrr......72..." he announced.

"Is that good?"

"Yep. Let me go get your friend checked out and I'll help you with your changing."

"She's not my friend! These were my favorite pair of jeans!"

"I'll buy you a new pair, dear." soothed Keenan's mom.

"That won't be the same. It never is." whined Keenan, getting gingerly to
his feet. He limped away behind a camper to shake some poo out of
his pants leg. 

Gage sighed. "Uh, ma'am.. This man will get you that tarp from my squad's
compartment. Sir," he addressed the track official. "It's in the second from the
last compartment on the passenger's side at the top, folded up. I'll be right 
over here with her for a couple of minutes if you find you need me." he said, 
pointing to the little girl.

"We'll be ok. Keenan's very independent for his age." said his mother.

"Yes, ma'am, I'm sure he is." he smiled. "He's nicer than most seven year 
olds. Very level headed."

Johnny went to check out his second bike crash child in detail.

She had ended up with just what he figured; a bruised chin, two road rashed 
palms, a slightly bitten tongue, and a huge steaming shorts load ...
just like Keenan's.

Johnny thought only the best as he was packing up, his paramedic's
perspective putting the healthiest slant on things. ::Ah, but that's a good 
sign in these two. I'll take a fudged child victim's embarrassment over their 
being totally silent, any day of week.:: 

--------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
 Photo:  Roy Johnny treating a kid fallen off a bike.

 Photo: A girl down in a campground being treated by trackcrew near a bike.

 Photo: Johnny outside, looking alert at something.

 Photo:  Oxygen gear by a bike. Kid scene angry mom.
   
Photo: A  motorcross girl crash closeup.
  
Photo: A motorcross track mayfair ambulance.

**************************************************
From: "Cassidy Meyers" <killashandraRey@hotmail.com> 
Date: Wed Mar 29, 2006 4:37pm 
Subject: Hoisted By His Own Petard.. 


Johnny wandered through the ER entrance at the hospital,
looking for Roy. He found him standing in the hallway, talking
to Dr. Early.

"How's he doing?" Gage asked them both, already knowing what
the subject of converstation was about.                                                                                             SP!!

"He's in surgery with Dr. Rhodes to handle a lacerated hepatic vein
that they found on one of his radiographs. It was a life threat." Dr. 
Early replied, waving hello.

"What happened with that?" Johnny wanted to know.

"He developed marked rigidity in all quadrants soon after arrival, and
his packed cell volume, after a four quadrant abdominocentesis test, started 
far exceeding his peripheral packed cell volume counts. That told us that it 
was very likely that he had either a splenic, hepatic or renal parenchymal 
laceration with hemorrhaging. Rhodes and Brackett found a liver rupture
with a lot of frank bleeding just a couple of minutes ago."

"Which the mast suit slowed down." Johnny added.

"And what your aggressive through-a-bone I.V. fluids push offset. Nice job." 
Joe smiled. "Kel told me about that move before he left for the operating
room."

"How about that paraplegia we found on him?" Gage asked, diving in
a little deeper.

Joe looked down at his hands apologetically. "It's too soon to know 
how he'll pull through on that evaluation. But he's got an abnormal 
Babinski's only on the left side."

Roy nodded. "Then there's a chance that the cord in his lumbar spine
wasn't completed severed."

"That's right. It may just be bruised with some swelling going on. You both
sound pretty relieved. What happened out there with him? Was it a
bad extrication?"

Johnny shook his head. "No. He got a little too much help from bystanders." 
Gage said seriously. "He was moved around off some haybales before we 
got there in time to stop them." he said, looking away uncomfortably.

"Oh, that's too bad. I'm sorry to hear that. But listen, he's has absolutely
every chance still going for him. Those leg fractures weren't anything
a few pins can't handle. He's almost guaranteed to survive now that 
all his internal hemorrhaging's being stopped."

"Yeah, but will he want to later, doc, if he stays permanently paralyzed 
in that same leg? That's the burning question now, isn't it?" Johnny sighed.

Joe conmiserated with Gage. "Yes, he got a bum deal, but there's 
always hope for anybody in his kind of case." Then Dr. Early licked his 
lips thoughtfully. "You want me to poke around in a few days to find how 
he turned out so I can tell you guys later?"

DeSoto looked surprised, it was almost a breach of confidentiality on Joe's
part. Almost. Roy opened his mouth once or twice, but then he said. "Uh, no
thanks. It would only get us both down in a bad way if we found out that his
spinal outcome wasn't anything but rosy."

Beside him, Johnny agreed with his partner a nod. "See you later, doc. 
Thanks for offering."

"Sure. No problem. See you later, fellas." Dr. Early waved and he
started walking away.

"Bye." they both said. They gathered up their medical gear that
was still resting on the countertop of Dixie's desk to carry it outside.
Another nurse there briefly smiled a greeting at them.

Johnny stopped in his tracks. "I wonder where Dixie is?"

"It's Sunday, her day off." Roy answered. "She'll be back at
midnight."

"Oh, that's right." Johnny said, snapping his fingers."I forgot that again?"

"You forget a lot of things." Roy told him to his face.

Johnny ignored him, and set down a coffee mug that he had
filled from the standing base station pot. He had it polished off
in seconds.

DeSoto shook off a depressed air. "So, how did your kids run go?"

"A couple of skinned knees and palms,.. among other things. Nothing big."
Johnny sniffed, taking a finishing sip of water from the drinking fountain.

"I take it neither of them transported because I never heard anything 
over the radio from you." Roy said.

 "You'd be right. Although I did almost have a full blown riot between
those two on my hands." Gage smirked.

"Why? It was a bike accident. What would two kids fight about over 
that kind of of situation?"

"A favorite pair of jeans." Johnny leaned into him meaningfully.

"Oh. I got it." Roy said, immediately understanding that idea. "The boy's, huh?"

"Yep."

"Now that WOULD be a matter of pride. The love of a good pair of jeans 
comes first they always say." Roy chuckled as they put away their equipment
out in the parking lot. 

"Yeah, and then it's the love of a good car a few years later." Johnny grinned
lopsidedly.

"That much is true. But what about the love of a first special crush in between 
them right in the middle?" Roy said, getting into the new topic happily.

"Some guys aren't lucky enough to hit that stage, Roy. I have to admit
that I was one of them." Gage admitted, smiling.

"Really? Us guys figured you grew up being a natural born lady killer.
But then we all thought that you must have lost it somewhere along the 
line soon after you hit puberty." Roy grinned.

"Very funny. Nah, I think my problem striking out with the opposite sex stems 
from wanting to deal with the opposite sex so bad in the first place. Once I figure
out how to uncondition myself out of being so overeager about falling in love
with one of them, I think I'll be able to manage them just fine."  Johnny said 
analytically.

"I'm afraid that that's the heart of the problem right there, Johnny. You can't 
manage women. They'll always insist on managing themselves." 
Roy said, grabbing the microphone off the squad's ConvertaCom.

"I know. I know.. I was...speaking hypothetically. I meant 'charm' not 'manage'. I
just picked the wrong word and ...misspoke myself.." Johnny said empathetically.

"I sure hope you did, or you'll be in for years more of sheer disappointment." 
DeSoto shared. "You almost ....have to get married first ....in order to 
understand women a little better." he teased.

"Well that sure makes a whole heck of a lot of sense now, doesn't it?"
Gage scoffed sarcastically, getting frustrated.

That only made Roy's grin larger.
 
DeSoto thumbed the mic. "L.A., this is Squad 51. We're available."

##Squad 51. At 13:33.## came Headquarters' reply.

----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Roy and Johnny sailed into the day room, whistling. Most of their
troubles had already been forgotten. Gage tried to sneak in with
two grocery bags full of something but the smell gave him away.

"Whew.. what's that stench? Is that garlic? I know it's not mustard gas.."
Cap complained.

"Would you just ...Shhh! Or Chet'll hear you. I'm trying to play another joke
on him."

"It won't work. Try putting those garlic strings outside until you're ready
for them. Or he'll smell em for--" Hank broke off when Kelly entered the kitchen,
still brushing his teeth after the nap he had enjoyed.

Chet didn't bat an eye. "Oh, cooking lunch again? Smells good. I'll expect
my plateful soon. After all, we can't have me fainting dead away a second time. 
Thanks, Gage. That was real nice of you." and he walked right back out 
of the room.

The others started chuckling as soon as he was gone.

Marco spoke up, "So, what are you gonna do, Johnny? Not cook 
anything? He'll know a vampire gig's up for sure then."

"How'd you know about that? Roy, did you tell em' about my coming prank?"
Gage said, poking a finger into DeSoto's chest.

"How could I? I was riding in the squad with you for the past two hours."
Roy fired right back. 

Stoker spoke up. "You know, it doesn't take a genius to guess that Chet's 
blood loss incident would set you into teasing him about blood suckers
in general. I say you just wasted your money on all that garlic for nothing."
he said, with a glint in his eye. "That is, if you're going to cook with it."

"Not you, too." Gage pegged at Stoker.

"Hey..." said Mike. "I didn't start anything. I was merely offering a simple
observation based off of Chet's reaction just now." he smiled, holding up
innocent hands in a surrender.

"So,.. what's it gonna be, Gage? Are you going to blow the joke or start grilling 
all of us some hamburgers?" Cap said,rubbing his hands together hungrily. 
"I'm always hungry these days." he grinned at him.

Johnny shot him a dirty look just before the tones went off..

##Station 51. Station 10. Structure fire. 90210 South Beach.
Cross street, Fruitland Park Drive. 90210 South Beach. Cross
street, Fruitland Part Drive. Time out : 13:57.##

Cap got on the acknowledgement instantly, leaving Gage to
throw his two awkward grocery bags full of garlic strings back 
into the refrigerator by himself.  "Station 51, 10-4. KMG 365."

Kelly was already miles ahead of them all, sitting in his seat in
the Ward engine, looking like a king. 

Johnny could see that he was already in full turnout, and wearing a 
Cheshire's smile to match.

Roy, next to him, started laughing. "That was brilliant. Sheer 
brillance. He got you good that time."

"Oh, for pete's sake. Why don't you just shut up and drive already?"
Johnny said sourly.

Roy did. Still grinning like a banshee, he flicked the squad's lights
and sirens on as they left the garage. 

They were off and running, headed north.

------------------------------------------------------------------

Photo:  Roy and Joe Early standing in a hallway
             at Rampart.

Photo:  Garlic strings bags.

Photo: Johnny cooking in the oven and not liking it.

Photo:  Chet smiling matter of factly.

Photo: Johnny pissed in the squad.

Photo:  A house fire nearly gutted.
 
**************************************************
From: Jeff Seltun <finiterider@yahoo.com> 
Date: Wed Mar 29, 2006  9:33 pm 
Subject: Turnabout is Fair Play 

The house, when they arrived, was going to be completely 
gutted.

Cap let Stoker pull the engine flanking the exposure
that was upwind in the best way possible. "Ok, pull her up
here." he said to the engineer.

He stepped away from the truck and met with Captain
Stone, filling in from eight's for Station 10. "What do we
got?"

"Single story structure. Most likely electrical. Nobody's 
inside according to the neighbors." said Ben. 

"All right. Where do you want us?" Hank asked.

"How about attacking from the south. There's a grove of
trees back there that won't take too kindly on being
showered with downwind sparks." he said, pointing 
into the sun.

"What about cleanup?" Cap wondered.

"I've got two of my men already cooling the roof to get it
ready for axe hole ventilations. Should be safe to go up
there in a few to finish up."

"Ok, we'll get right on it. Any surprises on property?" 

"Just an old car in the garage and a couple of gas cans.
Those must have blown up before we got here. The garage's
practically skeletal. This must have burned a long time before
somebody even bothered to call it in."

Cap nodded and he started to turn away to start work.

"And Hank?"

"Yeah.."

"All the utilities are turned off."

"Thanks."

Cap began issuing orders as soon as he returned within earshot
of his men. "Stoker.. South side. Lay two inch and a halves for
the trees. 10's crew will set up and charge the hoses. The rest 
of you, poles and axes with your tanks on, and enter inside
only when it's entirely clear. Is that understood?"

The gang nodded and jogged off. But Kelly was stopped with a gloved
grip to the shoulder. "Not you. You're still too blood poor for anything 
fire related. Stay and help Stoker man the panels."

"But Cap.." Chet protested. "This is an easy fire. It won't hurt me at all 
if I just--"

"But Cap, nothing. You broke the rules this morning, so you don't get to
play with the rest of the boys. And that's the end of it." Hank told him.
"Now get going and unscrew that hydrant over there for our wye-line
so we can feed Engine 10 all the water she needs."

Kelly sighed, hung his head and finally went along with the order. He 
didn't do it gracefully and grumbled about it the whole way across the 
street.

Hank couldn't help but smile to himself. ::Ah, one day he'll learn.:: he
thought. ::It's my job to fuss and keep my crew safe. Especially when 
they've acted stupid like he did before coming to work.::

Ten minutes later, the fire was out in the garage and the house
was mostly extinguished but still festering in places, fanned by the 
moderate winds blowing down from the surrounding canyon.

Two of ten's men were working around the chimney with anchor ropes 
while they chopped holes in the shingles to let out dissipating smoke.
Suddenly, there was a cry when one of them fell through a soft spot.

Both fire captains whirled towards the sound and Stone cracked out
orders over his HT. "Get some men up there with a ladder and
all the ropes you can spare. We'll go in after him via the roof.
The front entrance's too unstable and involved to enter through 
that way.."

Cap touched Roy on the shoulder. "Go help them. They don't
have their rescue squad here yet. They may need a paramedic."

DeSoto put on his air mask and quickly joined the effort to rescue
the fallen man.

A voice suddenly burst through all the scene chatter. ##HT 10 to
Engine 10. I....think I'm all right... I...  It's just my shoulder.##

Stone spoke into his radio instantly. "Where are you?"

##I think I'm in the attic.. I've sunlight on me.##

Stone motioned the others on the roof to move to the attic
windows to see if they could see the trapped fireman.

"He's over here!" shouted a grunt to the east. "Towards this end.
He must have crawled over there to get away from the fire."

Roy asked. "Can he reach us through this hole?" pointing to his
venting square still actively spilling out smoke past 
their boots. 

"No. It's a vaulted ceiling!" replied 10's newest man in fear.

"All right. We'll wait for the ladder and winch. It's coming up
right now. " Roy said. "Just calm down. It's ok. He's conscious 
and not in any immediate danger down there. Just relax 
a little. Last thing we need is for you to get yourself into a 
rough spot for not thinking straight." he said, setting a glove
on the man's tank. "Move your left foot. You're on a weak spot."

"I am?" And he jerked it off. "Right. Gotta relax.. Ok. Thanks, 51."
The rookie jiggled his head, still breathing hard through his mask,
worried for his crewmate. "I'll try to pull it together fast..Really, I will."

"I know." smiled Roy through his steaming faceplate. "It sucks
when it's one of your own crewmates who gets injured. You'll find
a way to tone down your reactions whenever it happens eventually.
Don't worry so much about it. It just takes time." said Roy, overseeing
operations down in the hole.

The kid firefighter nodded again, slowing his breathing rate 
by a concerted effort, even more, but his face was still pale. 

He smiled for the first time when he heard the sound of his
station's squad arriving on scene from whereever they had 
been.

Then it happened.

An overhot water heater blew in the house, sending shrapnel
and debris out every window.

A piece of ejected wood hit Kelly on the back of the neck, 
when he wasn't looking, just under the helmet, and he went down.

"Hey! Johnny! Chet's down!" Cap shouted from his place in
the yard.

"What happened?!"

"Debris hit him in the back of the head!" Stone added.

"I got him.." Gage said, peeling off his scba gear.

Squad 10 had seen Chet fall and they skidded to a halt right
next to him along the curb. They began snatching out all
their gear.

Johnny rolled Chet onto his back, while supporting his head
and neck in a line. He bent down low to check for breathing and
he found it. "He was knocked out." he told the arriving paramedics.

"We know. We saw him drop right after that plank hit him."
said one of them.

-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

On the roof, Roy was distracted by the incident on the ground
and almost stepped off the edge of the roof. He felt a strong
hand grab him by the arm as it hauled him back safely on top.

The rookie next to him grinned. "Like you told me. It really 
sucks when a Code I's one of yours." he grinned. 

"Yeah.. Thanks." DeSoto said. And then he didn't look Chet's
way again.

Ten's man was almost free. His hurt shoulder had been bound and he
was already waist belted for the trip up the pit ladder.

-----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Johnny started acting strangely. "Just leave your gear out for me.
I can handle him from here."

"Not by yourself, man. No one can long board anybody without help.
Besides, we're grateful that your partner's up there helping get
one of OUR guys out." said paramedic Mahoney. "I'll just sweep
him for you and--" he broke off when he got Chet's shirt unbuttoned.
He gaped. "What are these?" he asked, pointing to the EKG pads
that were already in place on Kelly's chest.

"Uh,..combination pads?" Johnny offered lamely.

"Now I know you didn't have time to put some of ours on because
our defibrillator case is still latched shut."

Johnny dug for a reply. Finally, he said the first thing that came to mind.
"Uh,.. Chet here. You see, he's the kind of guy who likes to be prepared
for any contingency..heh.." he shrugged unconvincingly. "He's sort of a 
Craig Brice type if you know what I mean."

Mahoney cocked his head, vaguely disturbed. "He patches himself
every morning just in case he gets hurt later on? That's a little 
weird...don't you think?"

Mahoney's partner, slipping an oral airway into Chet's mouth, started
chuckling under his breath as he got Kelly on some oxygen and into a 
C-collar.

Gage turned five shades of red. "Not really.. I..."

"And how do you explain these?" Mahoney glared, stabbing a finger down
at the bruised needle marks Chet still had on both of his arms.

Johnny qualmed. Last thing he wanted was Cap getting in trouble for letting
a man work the same day after giving blood. It was a potentially serious
fire department policy violation for him. "Chet. He.. volunteered to be stuck 
today. Just for practice."

"Uh, huh.."said the no bones Mahoney in a tell-me-another-one-I-don't-know
tone of voice. 

"Our station doesn't have a manikin that can do that yet." Gage concluded
truthfully. 

"You won't mind if I draw a little blood for the hospital to check, do you?"

That got Johnny mad. ::Chet's not an addict!:: his mind raged."Go right ahead.
He's as clean as they come, man." he said mildly on the outside.

"Ok. I think I will.." and his eyes narrowed at Gage as he felt for Chet's carotid in
a quality check without looking down. "I trust you. We're both paramedics
after all, right? But that doesn't mean I trust him." said Mahoney, throwing a look 
down at the comatosed Chet. "Can you get a set of vital signs for us while we 
sweep the rest of his body for other injuries?"

"Sure thing. I'll get right on it.." Gage said through lax lips. ::Cap. 
You owe me one. Big time. :: he thought, thinking of Hank. ::Perhaps even
a very large favor. Like cancelling a practical joke wagering war. Yeah,
that'll do just fine. Thanks, Chet, for getting beaned on today of all days.
Because soon, nobody will be smiling bigger than I'll be smiling when 
you find out that all the joke bets are permanently off.::

Roy came by, helping the wounded man walk, with another fireman,
to 51's rescue squad's rear bumper. "How's he doing?"

"Fine. But he won't be feeling so hot later on tonight." Johnny grinned.
"It sure won't be because of a splitting headache I can tell you."

Roy's eyebrows rose. "This oughta be good. Tell me later." he
said moving away with his patient.

"Oh, I will. Believe me. You'll be the first one to know, Roy." Johnny 
chuckled.

Mahoney and his partner were so bugged by Johnny's behavior
that both of them almost hit their heads on their engine's ladder for not
looking when they stood up to flag down the Mayfair and both captains
to offer up a status report.

------------------------------------------------------------------------------------ 

Photos: None.
 

**************************************************
From: Patti or Jeff or Cassidy <theaterhost@voyagerliveaction.com> 
Date: Thu Mar 30, 2006  2:26 pm 
Subject: Let The River Run... 


Johnny Gage got excited from moment one after he arrived and 
found himself overlooking the tawny banks of the aquamarine 
colored Kern River. ::Gold's under there. And soon, I'm going to 
get to mine it out of the streambed myself with my own two hands.:: 

He had driven almost two hundred miles into the foothills where the 
old 49'ers used to camp and mine with their mules, pans, pick axes 
and shovels over a hundred years ago.

Jim Hanes, the rugged firefighter from Station 110 and his wife
Pamela, waved when they saw Johnny's rover pull up to their campsite.

One of their crew was taking a break from Jim's small underwater 
gold mining operation and that had formed the basis of the invite Gage
had received from Jim to fill in for him, two weeks ago.

"Hiya, Johnny. How's business at 51's doing? Is she still the number 
one station in the county for call volumes?" he laughed hugely.

"Not this month. 86's beat us out by eleven runs. But we'll catch em
again next month and probably stay there for the rest of the summer."
Gage said, shaking Jim's hand and then the hand of Pam, Jim's petite 
wife. He was amazed at  how strong her grip was and he remarked about 
it. 

"Oh, sorry. That's from hundreds of hours manning the sluice box  
and the suction hose support booms on the Pro-Mack as a dredge
tender." she grinned, brushing away the light brown hair that was
covering her freckles. "Sometimes I don't know my own strength."
she murmured shyly.

"And that's why I married her." said Jim, giving her an affectionate 
squeeze. "Always so modest."

Gage laughed along with them. Then he asked. "Uh, where can I
leave my tent and sleeping bag and the rest of my stuff? I brought
along extra food, water, raingear, a CB radio, and a first aid pack."

"What? Are you worried that we can't take care of ya?" Jim guffawed,
slapping the much slenderer Johnny on the back with a big beefy
hand, making him catch himself to avoid falling.

"No, I'm just not so sure that I can keep my own skin intact while
learning all of this awesome gold digger's stuff." Johnny said 
enthusiastically."What do I have to do to start?"

"Not much." Pam smiled. "We'll explain everything clearly...Before
we do." she said, looking for all the world like a 49'er in her red plaid
jacket and battered tan miner's floppy hat.

Twenty minutes later, Johnny was led down into a tiny rainwashed
gulley to the creek, where rushing white water spun itself into 
a surprising roar. Gage's face fell quickly into doubt when they walked
by the sign that Roy had mentioned about drowning statistics in
the region. All he had to do was look at the water to feel it.
"We're going to be dive mining under that?" he asked.

"Sure.." Pam said. "It's not as bad as it looks. The water out
there to the hardpack streambed is only about eight feet deep.
And we always have a weight belt to keep us down while we dig
out the sample holes. But the most effective way to maintain your 
position in fast water is to streamline your body properly, with your 
head and chest close to the river-bottom and your rear end slightly 
elevated. This posture allows the water-flow to push you down, toward 
the bottom, so you can get a better footing."

"Sounds complicated." Gage said, trying to smile.

"It's all about sheer common sense, Johnny." Jim said seriously. "And
we've been coming to this spot for, what would you say, Pam, nigh on six
years? We know the stream bed like the back of our hands sometimes.
And I'll tell you something else, Gage, that's a deep, dark secret that I want
you to spread to no one.." Hanes warned with a held up beefy finger. He 
leaned in confidentially to Gage, grasping his shoulder. "Pam and I have 
known for quite some time, that pay streaks, often very rich pay streaks, exist 
in these faster waters. Because dredging rapids is more difficult, others are less 
likely to have mined there before you, including those rascally old timers of 
yesteryear. For this reason, fast water stretches like this little creek are actually 
modern day virgin gold territories just aching to be found. And we did it!"

"Really?" said Johnny, his eyes brightening.

"Just look at these beauties. The product of last summer..." and he reached
into his jacket, pulling out a cloth sack full of nuggets. Pam, giggling, went
to a pack and got out a miner's pan. She knelt by the creek to moisten its
surface. Then she brought it to Jim, who tipped out the sack, spilling gold
out liberally so Johnny could touch it.

"Holy cow..." Gage gasped, picking up one of the gold rocks.

"And we also get placer gold by panning the leftovers." Pam told him.

"Placer gold?" Johnny asked.

Jim shifted his weight to another boot. "Gold found in streambeds is called that. 
Found in flake form, usually about the size of flattened grains of rice and smaller. 
Some deposits carry a larger amount of such flakes and fine gold. Other deposits 
carry substantial amounts of larger pieces and nuggets like the ones we're
showing ya."
  
"You got all of these here?" 

"Yep." said Pam, her eyes twinkling.

"With that dredge machine you told me about over the phone?"

"Yep. And you're gonna get a few days' share of whatever we find as
payment for helping us out of a tough spot, with us being one man short." said
Hanes. "Everyone’s gold income depends directly upon how much 
material we can get sucked up by our main hose. It's not that easy,
but it'll be worthwhile in the end." he promised.
 
"Well, Jim, I...I.. really don't know what to say.."

"Say nothing. Just learn. And don't worry. It's hard work but we promise
we'll try to make it fun for you."
 
Jim hurried along the trail, dropping their lunch and safety
and first aid packs on a section of well trampled beach on a
white sand bar that had piles of tilings from previous expeditions
mounded up into small hills around them. "And there she is, Johnny.
The Sierra Madre.. aka the Pro Mack 2000, streamlined with a lot
of floatation keeping the floats as narrow as possible."

"Wow, is she a beauty! But those narrow pontoons, why is that?"
Johnny asked.

Jim warmed to the subject. "Well, it's because we're working in white water
rapids. One of the main considerations when adding flotation to a creek 
dredge is to avoid increasing the drag of it against the current because it 
puts more strain on your dredge, frame, tie-off lines, and diver airhoses.
We like to use inflated tire inner tubes, PVC pipe material, and styrofoam.
They work the best. 
"When you are set up with the dredge positioned off to the side in some pocket 
of slower water, your suction hoses will be running perpendicular, at least to 
some degree, to the flow of the fast water. That much hose exposed broadside 
to the current creates enormous drag, which can cause the suction hose... and 
our air hoses to kink at the points where they connect to any kind of machinery 
or inside of an air hose loop curled by the water."

"Sounds like a continual problem, sort of like keeping a charged firehose
flowing when you're traversing up a stairwell." Johnny thought out loud.

"The principle's exactly the same." smiled Jim. "Now breathing air hose kinks,
you can avoid by not turning around in any circles while working under the 
dredge. And any silt suction hose kinks can be avoided by rigging one or 
two extra ropes down from your main tieoff line that's holding the dredge in 
place in the creek. Those ropes you see out there allow the suction hose 
to be flexed back by the current, but not to any critical kinking point. 
You see, it's the hose kinks that cause plug ups which are rocks that jam in the 
dredge’s suction-hose or powerjet. This bend in the suction hose is what allows 
you the movement to expand the size of your gold dredging hole."

"Using the boom is nice." said Pam. "Because then you can move the entire 
dredge and suction hose harness as a unit, when you take the equipment 
forward downstream as your dredge hole progresses farther along."

"Sort of like a stokes and pulley system on the side of a building."

"Right again, Gage. You're catching on fast." laughed Jim.

"So the Pro Mack essentially sucks up streambed material : rocks, sand, 
gravel, silt, ..and gold.." Johnny's eyes bugged out. "and passes it up through 
that main suction hose, and runs it across the recovery system floating at the 
surface?" 

"Yep. Pieces of gold, which are nineteen times heavier than the water
and six times heavier than rocks, are separated from the other streambed 
materials and trapped over the conveyor riffles, as the gravel and other 
material wash through the recovery system and then we just wash the 
leftovers back into the stream." said Pam. "The whole process is
completely nonpolluting."

"What about the silting effects?"

"Storms and floods do the same thing and what's one tiny little dredger
to compare to the power of all that?" Pam teased.

"Point taken. How do you provide breathing room for the divers? Us?" 
he wondered, tapping himself on the chest, chuckling.

"Air for breathing underwater is generated by an air compressor, and 
passed down through an air line and then through a mouth regulator, similar 
to the SCBA we use in fires, Johnny." said Jim.

"So we aren't going to be that deep. I don't relish the idea of getting the
bends way out here in the middle of nowhere."

"It'll never happen." Pam reassured him. "We dredge only in ten feet of water 
or less and any rocks too large to pass through the suction nozzle are moved 
out of the way by hand."

"Couldn't you use a cutter head like they use out at the marina for digging out
holes?" Gage asked.

"A cutter-head's rotating series of hardened-steel blades that are designed to 
cut into sand, clay or classified gravel and will just get bogged down or damaged.  
It doesn't have the capability to deal with hard-packed streambeds which are 
made up of oversized rocks and huge boulders. Also, any blades would be
continuously up against rocks that must be moved out of the way by divers.
And we don't like those risks. It would be too dangerous to put divers into
a hole in fast water where a cutter-head is operating."

"What kinds of other problems to you come up against when you're digging
under the creek?" 

"Two things." Pam exclaimed. "Those rock plug ups and people who have
a tendency to nitpick."

Johnny laughed. "Nitpick? Underwater? No one can talk down there."

Jim chortled. "It's a new definition that us gold diggers have coined. It means
anyone who keeps dredging around and around rocks which are locked in 
place by other rocks that need to be freed up first by hand."

"So, what's my job gonna be this weekend?" Johnny asked.

"One of two jobs, your choice." said Jim. "The nozzle operator is 
responsible for getting as much material up the suction hose as possible
and it's he who directs how the dredge hole is being taken apart. The second
job is being just a rock person who has the responsibility to help the nozzle 
operator by removing those rocks that are immediately in the way of production
by using prybars, and brunt force."

"That sounds like me. No different than wrestling with a fire hose." he
said with humor.

"As we move our hole forward, we dredge layers or top cuts off the front of 
the hole, while we try to leave a taper ramp behind us to prevent rocks from 
rolling back in and on top on us. You as a rock person will be responsible
for deciding which rocks and boulders could potentially roll in and remove 
'em before they have a chance to do so."

"Sounds simple enough. I could handle that."

"Smart man, being the nozzleman's awful at times. And there
are things you gotta do when you take a lunch break or knock off for the day.
The most annoying one is remembering to anchor your suction hose and nozzle 
by either piling rocks on top of it or tying it to a large rock in the bottom of the 
dredge hole. It's no fun to start a production dive by having to work against the 
current to get your suction hose back into your dredge hole, because the fast 
water blew it out after your last dive."

"Don't have to work with that kind of effect at the station. Wind's never
powerful enough to move hoses around."

"Are we lucky that way? Heh." Jim guffawed. "But I beg to differ.
Hanging hose in the drying tower when the wind's making them
sway, really sucks!"

"That's when you con someone else into doing that chore for ya."
Gage said empathetically, making Pam laugh. "But being down a hole 
like that in such fast water... Is it truly safe?"

"No. But then again, is anything guaranteed one hundred percent safe?
All right. I'll tell you about the risks you'll be running. One of the most 
serious dangers to a dredger is the possibility of being pinned to the 
bottom by a heavy rock or boulder. All of the oversized rocks that can’t 
be sucked through the dredge nozzle must be moved out of the hole by 
hand or with the use of winching equipment. When undercutting the streambed, 
or taking apart the dredge hole, there is the possibility of larger rocks rolling in 
on top of you. This possibility increases when you are working in turbulent, fast 
water. The erratic changes in the pressure that the water exerts on the exposed 
streambed material, inside and around the dredge hole, can cause boulders to 
loosen up and roll into the hole. Generally,  rapids make you begin creating 
your dredge hole as soon as you can dig one out. The hole will eventually 
help anchor you in place because the water is much calmer inside of it. "

"So the larger you dredge the hole, the easier it gets." Gage surmised.

"Yes." Pam said happily. "My, Jim, you are right, he is a fast learner."

Together, Jim and Johnny said the same thing. "Firefighters have to be."
Then they shared a macho high five, just to tease her.
 
"How long do you work at a time during any one session?"
Gage asked Jim.

"Oh, in two or three hour dives at a time. We rest up in between for two
hours to get over the fatigue from the cold and battling the current."

"So, your man who's not here, is usually your rock person?"

"Yeah, and he's great at it, too. We use hand signals to communicate.
When I give him the plug-up signal, he always races to the surface to 
quickly clear the obstruction in the suction hose. He's funny that way,
always swimming around pell mell with an exaggerated sense of urgency.
Even when he's just returning to the hole when the plug-up's free. 
Sometimes, he even grabs the pry bar and start breaking rocks free for me
just one rock ahead of the nozzle tip so the water doesn't cloud up with
silt, that would block our view." Hanes told him.

"Show me those signals." Johnny said, rubbing his chin carefully.

"Ok, this one means.. there's a plug up in the suction hose, this one means
there's one in the power jet, and this one means that we're moving the
dredges forward to the next spot." Pam said.

Johnny learned them quickly and added one of his own. "How about
this one? It is ever used?" and he wrapped his hands around his throat
in a universal 'I'm choking' grip.

"We don't have to rehearse that one. It just happens." laughed Jim. "Here,
let me show you how to pop off a weight belt in case that happens to
any of us while we're working." And Hanes showed him. "See? It's
just like a parachute release handle. Right at the chest. You may 
also find that it is better to first remove your work glove before 
trying to release your buckle in an emergency."

"Heh. That's a laugh. I usually get into the biggest trouble for taking
my gloves off during an operation. So,..if you're the nozzle man, and 
I'm the rock person, what will Pam be doing?" Johnny asked, pointing 
at her as she offered him some hot chocolate out of a thermos. "Thanks. 
It is chillier up here than back at home."
  
"Oh, I'll be the dredge tender up top. It'll be my job to monitor the water volume 
flowing through the sluice box. If it visibly slows down, I'll be suspecting a plug-up 
and then I'll look for it and clear it. Also, I'll be paying close attention to where
you dredgers are working at all times in all this fast water. Do, always, keep an 
eye on Jim while dredging down there. When we dive, we make sure we keep 
track of each other and everybody else on the team. If you need to leave 
the dredge hole or go to the surface for some reason, always let someone know 
you're going." she said seriously.

Jim added more. "If you or I suddenly disappear, Pam will immediately go 
looking for a body."

Johnny nodded, accepting that bit of reality well.

"A person in serious trouble underwater only has about thirty seconds to get it 
together. That isn't much time at all." Pam told him.

"There is no margin for error." Gage agreed. "You are either breathing air or 
you're not." Then he began to mince uncomfortably about the idea of diving 
and breathing through a very thin hose underneath raging rapids.

Jim noticed. "It's not that bad. I've been doing this for so long in water
moving so fast..." he tried to soothe. Then he went a different track,
"Sometimes, air bubbles created by the turbulence eliminate ALL
my visibility. It's funny, Gage. It feels exactly like a night fire in thick 
smoke after you're done sweeping an apartment on your hands and
knees. After diving in really turbulent water, my equilibrium goes 
and I get so disoriented I can hardly stand up without weaving when I 
crawl out of the water."

"And that's when I break out the oxygen tank." 
Pam touched Johnny on the arm, to get his attention after the laughing
was over. "One of the main concerns when dredging in fast water is having 
your mask and/or regulator swept or knocked off your face. This will cause
you to panic, especially when it happens for the first time. The masks we use
are larger than oceanic ones with substantially more surface area to
encompass the mouth regulator to reduce hose tugging on the head. 
Know that it will be likely to get accidentally dislodged from your face. 
This can happen when the mask is bumped by someone, or a rock, or 
when turbulent water catches it, especially from the side."  
 
"I'll be careful. I'm used to air bottles and heat/cold suction effects
from working a fire." But Gage was not soothed. "I have to ask this.
What about finding yourself suddenly swept down stream?"

They all chuckled. "Everybody asks that question." Hanes smiled.
"Contrary to what many people believe, being swept down river by 
the current is not the major concern. This is a normal happening in 
fast water dredging. As long as you have your mask clear and your 
regulator in your mouth, being swept down river by the current is generally 
no big deal. That is, of course, unless you are dredging directly 
above a set of falls or extremely fast water." he teased.
"In most cases, the fast water you are in is not a steady flow of current. 
It is usually turbulent, varying in direction and intensity. A swirl can hit you 
from the side and knock you off balance. Or, sometimes it can even hit 
you from underneath and lift you out of the dredge hole and into the faster 
flow. If you get swept down river in fast water, you usually just need to grab 
hold of the river bottom and work your way over to the slower water, nearer the 
bank. This movement is best done by continuing to face upstream, into the 
current, while you point your head and upper body towards the river-bottom. 
That posture will drive you to the bottom where you can get a handhold on 
rocks or cobbles to anchor yourself down. Then, you can work your way 
upstream, through the more slack current near the bank, and back out to your 
worksite again. After three or four times getting caught, it'll all become
pretty much routine." shared Jim. 
 
Pam had more to add, "By the way, your air line will also be your direct 
connection to the dredge and to safety. When you connect your air line 
to the dredge, wrap it around the dredge frame several times before attaching
yourself to the air fitting on the dredge. Then you can use your air line to pull 
yourself to the dredge in an emergency."

"That's nice to know. But what about using regular ropes?"

"Ropes are unreliable underwater around divers. You'll find your airline, however
is actually an extension of yourself. Please, please, Johnny, especially in fast 
water, it is very important that you not allow your air line to tangle around parts 
of the dredge, underwater rocks, or around Jim's airline in the dredge hole."

"And always be sure to get all the loops out of your air line before starting 
your dive. Otherwise, the current can pull these loops into kinks, which can 
immediately cut off your air supply." added Jim. 

"Ever been in a cave-in out there?" Johnny asked, casting his head toward
the beautiful, fast blue water creek.

"Nope. When you dredge a hole down through loose streambed material, it will
keep sliding in on you. But when you finally break through to the hard-pack, 
the streambed will generally hold up the wall surrounding the hole. In fact, many 
of the old-time operations a hundred years ago tunneled underneath hard-pack. 
This was called drift mining. Sometimes they even tunneled directly under active 
rivers!" Jim shouted.

"Even in 1846? That's incredible." Johnny exclaimed.

"They were daring back then. That's why it's so fun coming up with ways
of doing what they did that isn't so gosh darned dangerous." Pam laughed.

"So,..." sighed Johnny expansively. "Is it all worth it? I mean. How much
gold is possibly left in these hills? They were picked over with a fine
toothed comb and then microscoped to death as far as I know."

"They were. But gold depositing is ever replenishing, Johnny. And I'll
explain to you how it works." said Jim. "With the kind of dredging
we have now with machines like the Sierra Madre, gold doesn't have 
to be as concentrated as it once was to be lucrative because we can
move hundreds of times more material than any 49'er ever could with
his pick and axe." 

"So how does it work, Jim?" Gage asked.

"Because of its enormous weight, gold tends to follow a certain path of its 
own when being washed down a waterway, and will get hung up in various 
common locations where the water force lets up enough to drop gold. One 
example is the inside of a bend where a stream makes a turn. Another example 
is at the lower end of a section of white water. Gold will form pay streaks in 
areas such as this, where the water slows down on a large scale during large 
flood storms. Generally, a winter storm, even a large winter storm, will not 
create enough turbulence and force in a river, creek or stream to redeposit 
the compacted streambeds that are already in place along the bottom. 
Flood storms of the magnitude to redeposit streambeds do not occur often.

Pam placed laced fingers in front of her mouth, getting excited about
gold mining all over again. "We believe that the last time that a substantial 
amount of hard packed streambed was formed on this creek was during the 
1964 flood."

"Hey! I remember that." said Johnny, snapping his fingers together. "It rained
for days on the reservation when I was ten years old and all of the low
country was flooded out for an entire month."

Jim nodded in agreement. "I remember it very well, too."
"In most of the channel along the Kern, from which this creek runs, 
the 1964 flood layer was laid down on top of a much older, harder packed, 
virgin streambed that formed perhaps thousands of years ago. So, it takes 
a major flood storm to move and lay down a hard packed streambed. 
And, it takes a super major flood storm to create enough force and turbulence 
in a river to break up ancient streambeds and redeposit them as newer 
hard packed streambeds along the course of the waterway. This happens 
only very rarely.The reason that hard pack is important to a prospector is 
because gold nearly always concentrates at the bottom of hard packed, flood 
layers. At some point during the storm, gold becomes trapped out of the 
turbulent flow by dropping into irregularities, cracks and holes that are present 
along the surface over which it is traveling and it will always be beneath 
a hardpack. You can find the signs because most of the flat rocks will be
lying horizontally and slightly tipped downward in the direction of the current.
If gold traveled in that part of the waterway, we find it concentrated at the bottom 
of the hard pack, sitting on top of the tailings. Underneath, we find loose cobbles 
with sand and silt between them. These usually go all the way to bedrock. We find 
very little gold on bedrock because it has already been mined. Because of 
this, we have found the best means of production is to dredge the hole down a 
layer at a time. This is the top cut we mentioned earlier. If you take down a broad 
horizontal area of the streambed together, you uncover a whole strata of rocks which 
are interconnected like a puzzle. Then, you can see which rocks must be removed 
first in order to free the others more easily."

"Sounds like doing it that way would be far safer, too." Gage guessed.

"It is. But, the only time I intentionally slow things down is when I am uncovering 
the gold. I have to keep an eye on that to follow the pay streak. If the streak 
is good, I also point out the gold to my rock person as I uncover it. Now that," 
said Jim, grinning gape tooth wide. "..is very fun. Everyone deserves the boost 
because gold eventually gets spent..."

"And the memories last forever.." sighed Pam. 

"I'll bet." said Johnny.

"Now here's the quirky part.." Jim chuckled. "Areas where the 
water runs fast during low water periods are likely to be drop zones for 
gold during high water. This explains why you can often find pay streaks 
under rapids when the river is flowing at low water levels. It also explains 
why you seldom find pay streaks within the first slow water area below a 
set of rapids when the river is running low. At first, this may seem 
contradictory to the general belief that high grade gold deposits form in 
areas of the waterway where the water slows down after a stretch of rapids. 
Just keep in mind that pay streaks are created during major floods."

Johnny's eyes lit up in discovery. "And during a major flood, a sudden 
dropoff edge in the bedrock can cause a very good gold trap, like the riffles 
in a sluice box, but on a very large scale!"

Pam put her chin on her hand, sighing. "You know, I've been married to
Jim for fourteen years, been mining for six and I still don't get how
that effect works.."

Jim explained it once again. "Here, let me put a firefighter twist on things,
Pam, because you sure know a heck of a lot about me that way
already." he teased.

"Oh, you.." she said, slapping his arm affectionately.

Hanes flinched good naturedly and went on. "Pam, if you turn on a fire 
hose at slow speed, the fastest water area is found directly where the water 
flows out of the hose. Right?"

"Yeah, I can see that...."

"Now, here's the analogy,..when you turn the water pressure up, momentum 
forces the water farther out. This condition occurs within the river during 
a major flooding, another reason why you are likely to find gold in fast water.
It's pushed farther out from the rock which formed it."

"Oh, I see it now.. Duh." Pam laughed. 

"And if you still want to be traditional, you can get placer gold
into your pan from the shallows by sifting through loose streambed material. 
Paystreaks can happen like that, but they're rare, and almost always the result 
of winter storms, and the related run off, eroding away the hardpack streambed 
cut in along the bank. It washes the gold down 
into the waterway to rest with the loose material,.." he said marching
his finger from the nearby hilltop, down to the shore and finally
to the waterline.." right on top of your most favorite sand bar, love."

"Aww,," sighed Pam, kissing Jim. "He's so sweet, isn't he?"
 
Blushing, Johnny stood up off of his creek rock seat.
"Ooo, my head's hurting from all of this stuff. Can we eat first
before we go dive prospecting?"

"Sure, I'll go get dinner ready." said Pam.

------------------------------------------------------------------------------------ 

It was one day later at the creek camp and it was high noon.

Johnny had survived his initiation period and was finally broken
in well as a full fledged dredging rock person. He no longer
minded the churning rapids roaring about his ears. 

In fact, the water in that part of the creek was so swift that he and Jim
both were swept out of the dredge hole time after time after time.

And Pam took each "accident" when it occurred, like a trooper, 
running along the bank with a poolside sheperd's hook, with her
long sandy hair flying, to snatch them back onto shore with it 
whenever it happened. After the fifth time, Pam started to get
worried. "Jim, shouldn't we call it a day? I think the creek's
lowering, the water's definitely getting faster as time goes by."

"Why stop, Pam? The area downstream only gets deeper. We
can't get crushed against rocks that aren't there, honey. We'll
be fine. Besides, Johnny and I have found a really good paystreak
that we're afraid may get buried if we slow down for even a minute."

"I don't like it, Jim. I don't think it's safe enough any more to 
go on." she said, frowning and biting her lip.

Jim smiled from where he stood in the shallow water, up to
his waist. "Tell you what, ten minutes more, and we're done.
Ok? Johnny has to go back home tonight anyway and I think
we've found enough gold to make the trip worth his while. So
yeah, I'll halt operations then. Does that satisfy you now?"

"No. But I know I can't stop you. Go have fun." she smiled.

"That's my girl." he said, putting his airhose regular and mask
back onto his face.

Johnny was moving a particularly stubborn watermelon sized
rock when it happened. Jim was uplifted out of the hole by 
an errant welling of creek current and he was carried away
so fast, that he didn't have time to untangle himself from his air line 
before he reached the end of it.  And the air line got
tangled around his neck. Hanes lost what breath he had in his
lungs in seconds.

There he was, flopping around in the current, like a flag snapping 
in a stiff breeze, tethered by the air line around his neck and he
started struggling, unsuccessfully, to regain his footing in three 
feet of water. But the flow of rushing rapids proved to be too strong.

His mask was ripped away, leaving him blind. But his teeth
clenched down on his regulator causing a kink about five feet
above his head. His air supply was abruptly cut off.

Above, floating on the dredge, belly down, Pam screamed.
"Johnny!"
 
Gage got a funny feeling down where he was and he
turned towards the front of the hole, looking for Jim.

All he found was empty space. 

Quickly, he dropped his weight belt and hung onto the suction
hose, riding it like a long sinuous snake, until he drifted down
stream towards where he could see Jim fighting to free himself.

He got there and released Jim's weight belt with a powerful tug.
He grabbed onto Jim, gripping him with both legs as he tried to
pull the hose from around Jim's throat. Jim gave him the choking
signal weakily.  Thinking fast, Johnny grabbed a hold of Jim's air
hose and pulled it in towards the both of them and then he let it 
go. The pressure was temporarily removed from Jim's hose kink
and he watched as Hanes received a hard won breath of air and
the expression on his face fell from utter panic into one of 
immediate relief.

Gage did this several times to get Jim more awake,
before he reached to the surface to get a knife from Pam. 

By the time he had sliced the hose free, Jim was unconscious
and limp.

Struggling, Johnny and Pam used one of the dredge's floats to
bear up his body to the surface and together, they rode the creek
down to calm water, hanging onto him.

Gage got Hanes to shore and got on his head in a listening check.
"Go get the medical gear..." he told Pam.

Sobbing, she ran to get it.

Jim wasn't breathing anymore. Johnny tried to get a first breath in
but it didn't work. Repositioning Jim's head, Johnny tried again.
"Come on, Jim. You couldn't have gotten that much water inside.
I didn't see your mouth open."

Then it dawned on him. Jim was suffering laryngospasms.
Straddling Jim's stomach, Gage started delivering a series of
firm but slow abdominal thrusts to encourage his windpipe
to open up again.

A rush of air gushed out after the fifth one. Johnny moved back
to Jim's head and tipped up his chin high. Then he started
mouth to mouth after pinching his nose. This time, he was rewarded
with a chest rise.

A quick check showed that Jim still had a slow heartbeat in spite
of his bluish color.

Pam clattered back with the small resuscitator case, Johnny's 
first aid pack and his portable CB radio. "Is he ok? Oh, Jim!"

Gage got out a demand valve and began using it without stopping
to put in an airway first. Soon, the rich flow returned a pink shade
to Jim's face and hands. "He's got a pulse. I think he just had
some throat spasming. I'm not hearing any water in his chest at all.
If that's the case he should be waking up any time now. He wasn't
apneic for very long. Maybe two minutes at the most. This oxygen
should turn him around fairly fast."

"Thank G*d. Jim is so afraid of water drowning. He has nightmares 
about it sometimes." she shivered, grabbing the radio to call for
help from the nearby ranger station. "Jim.. come on, wake up
for Johnny. You're out of the creek.." she sobbed.

Jim stirred under the ventilations seconds later and started
coughing. Gage moved the mask away. "Jim, how are you
doing now? You're out of the water...."

Hanes sucked in a huge tortured breath of air with a pained
expression on his face and then he began to laugh out loud
and long. "Do I still have it..?" he crowed, choking
on saliva and some sand, crying.

Still dripping, Johnny sat him up off of the ground, supporting 
Hanes from behind so that his breathing came easier.
"What the h*ll are you talking about? Jim, you almost died on us."
he said, holding the oxygen mask back over his face.

For an answer, Jim opened up one clenched fist and
showed them what was lying there.

Johnny and Pam almost had breathing troubles themselves
as their disbelieving eyes took in the glinting fire of pure gold.

It was a solid high grade nugget the size of an apple.

Jim Hanes face split into the greatest look of joy Gage had
ever seen. "Guys, I've found the motherlode!!" 

Then he fainted into Johnny's arms, falling into an utterly
exhausted sleep.

--------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

It was Monday, at Station 51.

Chet Kelly sat in one of the kitchen chairs, shaking his head in
disbelief. "Johnny, you mean to tell me that after only two days
working on a mining dredge, about which you know practically
nothing, that you managed to break even on all costs of operation
for absolutely everybody?"

"Yep." smiled Gage, biting into a red apple and relishing every
moment of it. 

No one could figure out why he was studying a simple piece of fruit 
so hard and for so long with such a ridiculous smile plastered
onto his face.

"Ok, so you can't tell me where you went, and you can't tell
me exactly how much you found, what can you tell me?" Kelly
asked in exasperation.

"I'll give you a little hint, Chet. A top of the line, three inch hose diameter
gold dredge, and the miscellaneous gear needed to run a small 
dredging operation, for an entire summer, can be obtained for just under 
$5,000. "

"Yeah, so?" Chet said. "$5,000 split four ways still isn't very much."

"I'm not finished yet.." said Gage holding up a finger to shush him.
"Jim and Pam have been running that operation for six YEARS.
Now do the math.." 

Stoker was the fastest. "No way, Gage.. No w--"

"Yep. Split four ways. And I got a bonus, too." he grinned.
"On my last day as a rock person, behind Jim, I found
this, just lying at my feet under the water." 

Johnny reached into his uniform pocket and drew out a
marble sized water roughened blue star sapphire. 
He held it up like a prized jeweler doing an appraisal. 
"How do you like them apples?" he grinned.

"Is that real?" Cap said, getting up out of his rocker chair.

"Yep. I'm gonna be a really rich man for a good long while." 
smirked Gage at the rest of them.

"I don't believe it.." Chet whispered, his eyes filming over
and mouth falling slack. "I never knew that creeks in
California still give up rare and precious gemstones.."
 
 Johnny started laughing gently at them all..
"Well, that just goes to show ya, Chet, my man, that all that 
glitters..." and he trailed his voice off, laughing with sheer 
celebratory delight as he walked proudly away, tossing his
gemstone up into the air and catching it again. It glinted
prettily blue in the light.

"...ain't gold." Chet finished, his eyes still bugging out. Then
Kelly smiled a bucktooth sort of smile, mumbling as he sat back
down on the couch to go play with Henry and his well mauled tennis
ball some more... "Man, I tell ya, Roy. That Gage,..he's something 
else somedays, ain't he? Wow.." he exclaimed, blowing through
his lips in admiration.

"He sure is, Chet,.." DeSoto smiled gently. "He sure is.."


FIN

Episode Thirty One, All That Glitters
Season Five, Emergency Theater Live

--------------------------------------------------------------

Photo:  Johnny frowning outside.

Photo: Underwater gold dredgers in a creek.

Photo:  A woman panning gold.

Photo: Gold nuggets in a pan.

Photo:  Divers hose suctioning a hardpack streambed.

Photo:  Closeup of underwater gold getting sucked up by a hose.

Photo: A diver in trouble, hose tangle.

Photo:  A diver getting swept downstream.

Photo:  Johnny swimming with a drowning victim

Photo: A large museum quality gold nugget.

Photo:  A hand holding up a raw gem into the sun.

Photo:  The gang standing over the couch.

Photo:  Johnny grinning like a banshee in the kitchen.

************************************************** 
       
***This current episode has just completed.
***Keep watching here daily for new episode
***scene installments.  

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

            
                            End Credits --  Episode Thirty One (Fifth Season)
                                      
                                              §§    All That Glitters   §§


              :)           This episode is dedicated to hose jockeys everywhere..    :)
              :)           For all the obvious reasons and everything in between.       :)    

************************************************************************
 
The Story Unfolds...

Season Five, Episode Thirty Two..
 
 §§  Water Day Saints  §§
 
Debut Launch: April 1st, 2006. 

**************************************************
From: "Roxy Dee" <laterrapincabesa@hotmail.com> 
Date: Wed Apr 5, 2006 0:53am 
Subject: Drooling For Donuts~~ 


Johnny Gage sailed into the day room in the best of moods.
"Morning. Morning all. Isn't this the most terrific morning, guys?
Boy, last night I think I had the best date I've ever--"

"You're late.." grumbled Cap. "We're just about to begin the meeting
the chief's asked us to have about lining up another fundraiser for
the station."

Completely unphased about his tardiness or the growled complaint,
Johnny snatched up the warming coffee pot from the stove and sat
down in a spot next to his partner. "Oh, Cap. Not another one. I still
have nightmares about how badly the one we tried to set up selling
fireman's picnic tickets at Rampart."

Chet and Stoker, who were still whispering confidentially about
something together in close conference, broke off when Johnny got
curious enough to peek at some papers they had laid out on the table
in front of them. Kelly protectively snatched them up and stacked them,
keeping their information a secret. "Only you did so badly, Gage. The rest
of us breezed through selling our ticket packets. We had no problems at
all. Who knows what your excuse was."

"Maybe Johnny's just not a born door to door salesman." Marco scoffed
kiddingly.

"Ain't that the truth.." Chet goggled. "I mean, who'd buy from a fireman with
that smile coming at em.."

"Hey...." Gage protested immediately. "Cap.. now that was uncalled for. 
Chet just--"

"Cap just nothing, Gage." said Hank, no nonsense."I'm not responsible for
Kelly's flapping gums."

"Yeah, there is such a thing as the First Amendment in this country, Johnny.
Did you miss hearing about that in school when you were growing up?"
Chet grinned, trying to snatch a donut waiting on the platter in front of
them that was to be their reward for getting company business done.

Hank smacked a butter knife across his knuckles instantly.

"OwW!" Kelly howled.

 "Not until we're done. You know the rules. You should know 
them better than anybody else around here." Cap told Kelly.

Johnny laughed, celebrating Chet as he nursed his knuckles
in between his lips. "And who's been assigned to this station
longer than anybody else has been, except Stoker?" he teased.

Bonnie, sitting on the empty chair next to Johnny, was practically
salivating as she stared at the freshly baked donuts Cap had
set out intentionally as a powerful meeting attendance incentive.

Kelly just glared at him for a few seconds, then fell into blatant
ignoring as he and Stoker brought their heads together into animated
conversation about something that seemed to be a project that
they were working privately on together. Roy seemed to know
what it was, for he began nodding to himself when he overheard
a term or two outlining a specific that they were hashing out.

Gage couldn't help but be cattish. "Ok, so what're you working
 on?" he asked them.

Stoker and Kelly didn't look up. They might as well have been
a news broadcast for all the response they gave Johnny. 

Hank, however, immediately glommed onto Gage's interest and
set him straight. "They're working on what the chief asked them
to directly. And that project's gonna be the meat of this whole
meeting today. We're gonna raise money so Stoker and Kelly
can continue working on it with the department's blessing. So the
sooner you zip your lips the sooner we can get eating the donuts
I brought in for all of us."

Marco's stomach couldn't keep silent any longer and it growled.
"Sorry." Lopez mumbled. "Guess I'm just as bad as Bonnie here."
he apologized.

Chet Kelly eased Bonnie's self inflicted torture by sweeping her
into his lap and petting her affectionately. "I'll start this meeting
off, Cap. Stoker and I have already come up with our preliminary
figures. We figure we'll need around five hundred dollars to complete
phase two. That'll include paying for Brackett's time evaluating
our invention and the cost of materials to build it."

"What invention?" Johnny interjected clearly into a pause in
conversation.

"If you needed to know that, I would have told ya. Now shush."
Cap glared at him. "Drink your coffee and cork it."

Gage immediately whispered animatedly to Roy. "What's this
all about? Geesh,.. I was only trying to-"

"Shhh." Roy said mildly. "I'm trying to listen to this.." he stage whispered.

"Listen to what? They haven't even given us a real subject matter yet."
Johnny countered.

DeSoto shut his partner up by pouring way too much sugar from the
table dispenser into Johnny's mug with intentional moderate malice.

Gage sighed and rubbed his face in irritation at the stunt.
Then he started fidgeting in his seat, when he began to realize
that he'd be unable to dump out his coffee into the sink just yet
with the meeting officially going on to go pour himself a new one. 

He finally fell to silence.

Hank conducted the next natural question."Does anybody have
any ideas on how we can get half a G by the end of next week
to fund this brainchild project submission?"

Gage decided to hasten things along. "How about a barbeque or
a fish fry at the supermarket?" he suggested sarcastically.

Chet didn't even blink a mild eye. "That'd cost us personal
money first, Johnny. And you already know how hard that is
to swing getting ANY money from the other shifts."

"I agree. So some kind of cookout's out." Cap said empathetically.

Johnny threw up his hands. "Well, what other option have we got?
Anything we plan to do's gonna cost us money, even if we just 
host a handpainted backyard carnival dunk tank and cheek kissing 
booth."

Stoker looked up at that enthusiastically. "Now that's getting a little
closer.." he said brightly.

Roy raised his hand slowly with confidence."I got it."

Hank called on him with a nervously chewed on pencil eraser. 
"Shoot it out."

"We declare a fire department holiday for kids and spruce up
the usual station tour rigmorale to make it more fun. Then ask
for donations from all the parents." DeSoto smiled.

"Hey. Now that's one heck of an idea.." Kelly grinned toothily.
"Stoker, I think we're back in business here." 

Gage blinked into another pause. "Back in what business?"

"Never you mind." Stoker said, flipping a chin at him. "You'll find
out about it soon enough when the time's right."

Hank clattered his drained coffee mug on the table to call
things back into order. "Ok,.. sounds like a great idea, Roy. What
shall we call it when we sing out about it with an advertisement tarp 
hanging from the flagpole?"

Roy looked a little uncomfortable then and he crossed his arms
across his chest shyly. "Well, I don't exactly know, Cap. I.. sort
of didn't think it through that far yet."

Marco piped up. "I got it.. why don't we call the holiday pitch Water
Day? The kids'll get it right away. Getting chances to fire off real
fire hoses despite of the drought restrictions.. It'll be perfect!"

"It sure would.." said Cap, enthusiastically. Then he snatched for
a donut faster than the speed of light. "Meeting's over.. Gage, you
were late so you get to design and paint the tarp banner. Solo.
Give it to Stoker when you're done so he can string it up and
fly it by tonight."

"What!?!" Johnny sputtered.

"Don't press your luck, Johnny." Roy warned him with a grin, 
reaching behind and over his back for the coffee pot to give 
to Johnny so he could get a fresh cup to replace the one 
DeSoto had ruined. "You just may learn to regret it."

"But..." Gage gasped.

Bonnie barked.

"Uh oh.." said Hank.

The tones went off. ##EEE, ooo AArrrrroooo.## 

The gang grabbed two donuts in each hand and jogged
out of the kitchen. 

Before he left, Chet broke off a large piece of one of his
for the diminutive Yorkie still sitting patiently in her chair.

Bonnie wagged her tail at him and yipped in appreciation.

##Station 29, Truck 8, Heavy Extrication 20, Station 51. Battalion 1.
Multiple car traffic accident with injuries. Highway 580 and 
Ventura  Freeway. Highway 580 and Ventura Freeway. 
Time out 0915.##

Cap felt his blood begin to pump as he hauled on his turnout
jacket. "Let's move. Sounds like a big one." Then he
got on the radio. "Station 51, 10-4. KMG 365...."

The rest of them needed no encouragement.

Soon, the squad and engine were driving down the boulevard
with all their lights set to maximum, their sirens screaming
for space through which to dart around the morning's choking
rush hour.
------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Photo:  The gang sitting around the kitchen table in a meeting.

Photo:  Gage with Chet Kelly holding Bonnie in his lap.

Photo:  Stoker and Chet listening to conservation closely.

Photo:  Gage agonizing over not knowing something by the engine.

Photo:  Roy pouring Johnny a cup of coffee by the stove.

Photo:  A large car pileup under a viaduct in daytime.

Photo: Station 51 arriving on scene from the distance.
*************************************************** 
From: "patti keiper" <pattik1@hotmail.com> 
Date: Thu Apr 6, 2006  8:15 pm 
Subject: MCI Level 1 

The hair started going up on the back of Hank Stanley's neck
as they got closer to where they could see the morning
rush backing up. "Oh, L*rd. There must be a dozen
cars involved in this one." he said to everyone in the Ward's
cab. He got on the mic. 

"L.A., this is Station 51. We're arriving on scene.
I'm seeing a multiple MVA pileup in excess of ten vehicles just
south of the Highway 580 viaduct. I'm officially declaring a 
Level One Multiple Casualty Incident. Infrastructure has
collapsed on top of vehicles and at least one semi truck of
undetermined type. The command post will be Engine 51 
with the same call sign until further notice. Note the best 
route of access is from the north along the outside lane's 
margin, going southbound."

There was a slight pause as Sam Lanier, the dispatcher of
the day, digested Cap's information. ##10-4. Confirming
MCI Level 1. I copy victim numbers ten or more vehicular. 
Responding four additional paramedic stations, a full 
hazmat team and two air support units.##

Fluting tones rang as the county wide issue came over 
on Station 51's frequency as the high level incident was radioed 
out to all available EMS in range. It was followed with rapid radio 
traffic as additional police and highway response crews were 
notified of the call and acknowledged it.

##Engine 51, Battalion 1. My ETA is still four minutes out. I'm giving
you permission to assume the scene as Incident Commander. Install 
your posts ASAP.## said the chief through his car radio.

 "10-4, Battalion 1. L.A. an update. There is no smoke. 
I repeat. No smoke as yet." annunciated Cap clearly to his superior.
::Last thing we need are fires breaking out.:: Then he turned to
his men, gathering around him with full turnouts, tanks and gloves.
He spoke urgently quiet. "As I assign you, put these reflective vests
on."

Captain Stanley's mind kicked into high gear and he took action,
giving rapid orders. "Roy, take over as Medical Group Supervisor. 
Order any needed resources through me, such as law enforcement
or coroner's aid. Establish communications through a secondary 
control channel and designate yourself as DeSoto HT 51 to L.A. 
Make three staging treatment areas for triage, red immediate, yellow
delayed and green minor. Use the squad's triage kit for taping.
Gather the bottom halves of all triage tags with their patient
information and have them brought to me. When Battalion gets
here, he'll coordinate evacuations as Operations Section Chief."

Roy nodded, breathing hard as his eyes took in more
and more of the damage laid out about them.

Hank turned to his left.
"Stoker, you're my Safety Officer, sweep the area and determine
casualty numbers and all hazards and report them to me directly.
It'll be your job to make sure no one, including rescuers, gets into
danger while working out there. Direct units to handle any
problems you see through my channel. You arrange critical hazard 
mitigation, deal with any fire threatening survivors and all critical 
exposures, ongoing hazardous substance releases, and 
any further structural instabilities. Manage all of that 
before performing any nonambulatory victim rescues." 

"Right, Cap." said Stoker putting on his scba mask. He snatched
up his HT and went running for a slope above the pileup to
get a birdeye's view of the whole area.

"Chet, you're the Transportation Supe. Create channel Kelly HT 51. 
You'll be responsible for loading ambulances by priority triage tags 
and sending recovered victims off to the appropriate assigned 
hospitals. Coordinate with Rampart, Mercy General and Mount Sanai
Hospitals direct." Hank directed. "Roy will send victims to you
as you call for them."

"Got it, Cap." said Kelly. He swiftly decided that an adjoining viaduct
cloverleaf circle would make the perfect helicopter landing zone
and ambulance disembarkation point. He ran for that area, changing
channels on his handheld as he hurried into his scba mask.
 
"Johnny, you're the head treatment unit leader for triaging on
Gage HT 51. Use the first two arriving paramedic units and make
them a part of your team. Declare yourself now and have them report 
to you out there directly. Go. Grab the Ward's triage kit and tags
with just minimal airways and trauma dressings. The rest 
of any squads' gear will be brought to triage shortly."

"I'm gone." said Johnny, heading for the nearest car to their location.
He didn't hurry, but first looked to Mike Stoker for a thumbs up to
make sure the area he was entering was truly safe. 

Then he got his hand signal to proceed in and suddenly all the 
rest was as if he was wearing blinders. 

Set on his new channel and connected with those
rescue squads coming to report to him, Gage reached his first victim...

It was a woman, twisted and moaning in the driver's seat. 

"Maam, stay still. I'm a paramedic with the Los Angeles County
Fire Department." he said, reaching into the shattered car window.
"Can you understand me?" he asked the panting, bloody woman
as he grabbed her by the sides of the head to check her true 
consciousness level. 

Her respirations count was twenty and he got a pulse at her 
wrist easily but she didn't open her eyes for him or attempt
to answer any of his loud questions. Gage swept down her
body and limbs for problems. He found and tied off a bad 
bleed on her right thigh. Finding nothing else, 
Johnny got the young lady's license out of her purse, wired it
to the woman's triage tag and wrote down the controlled
bleeding's location and the time, and left a triage tag untorn
as red immediate around her upper arm.

Her companion was on the floor, unmoving. Jerking the passenger
side door open, Johnny crawled inside the car and climbed
on top of the seat. He checked and found no breathing with
his hands. Ignoring the finer spinal protocols, he tipped up the man's 
chin with a jaw thrust and listened for air exchange. He found none.
Johnny left the man with a short tag torn down to the black color
and a time.

There was no one in the back seat in spite of a child's restraint
chair strapped in. Johnny marked the car's roof with an
orange spray can. ' R X 1,  D -- 1.'

----------------------------------------------------------

On the hill, Cap noticed Johnny's first marker. He got on his
hand held radio. "Engine 51 to Engine 29. You're assigned 
extrication. Head for the white two door Chevy Impala that's 
been marked, immediately next to Squad 51. One victim critical."

##Engine 29 to Engine 51. We copy. Our crew's moving in.##

Cap noticed Heavy Extrication Unit Twenty rolling in with her sirens 
blaring. "Truck Twenty. Head for the broken viaduct. We're seeing
two pinned cars by that jackknifed truck. Determine all hazmat 
risks, live victim numbers, then radio back to me. I'll send no
paramedics into your area until you secure full scene safety."

##Truck 20, Engine 51, 10-4.##

----------------------------------------------------------------------------------
Roy DeSoto was animated. He spoke into his frequency,
requested, and got a reply back for a doctor and nurse to
fly in from Rampart. "I'll use both of them for victim treatment.
Vince can head up being morgue manager. Looks like Johnny's
found the first Code F." he mumbled to himself. 

He contented himself with laying out multiple tarps and 
medical gear upwind of the crash site into three rows. He squared
these off into three sections with red, yellow and green tape on
sticks thrust into cones. Moving to Squad 51, he unloaded 
absolutely every piece of medical gear it had and organized them 
opened and ready to use in a row along a center aisle which ran
through the middle of all three tape colored areas. Thinking 
ahead, he asked a couple of policemen to go to any
other light flashing rescue squads parked away from the crash site to
gather their gear and courier the equipment to the triage station.

Then he waited with a command slate for the first fire teams to 
arrive with a victim's stokes. When he saw two firemen 
coming from the white chevy, he called for a paramedic team 
to intercept and treat the red tagged woman without using their
biophone. "Treat her briefly here then contact MD control when
you're in route. Brackett's on the way to the scene if you find 
anything life threatening that needs immediate intervention with
a doctor's order." he told them.

Squad 29's medics handed Roy half of the woman's triage tag
outlining her designated color and the ID notes Johnny
had jotted down along with her driver's license. He got on the 
radio to Chet. "DeSoto HT 51 to Kelly HT 51."

##This is Kelly HT 51.##

"I've a red tag. She'll be ready to move out your way in.." 
Roy peered closer at what the paramedics were doing for her with
an I.V., oxygen without an airway, and additional dressings to
her one wounded leg and guessed at her possible departure
time."Four minutes. Altered LOC. Bleeding controlled. Triage tag
number #1. An Evelyn Samuels. Age 54."

##This one a fly out?## asked Chet, writing down the woman's
information on his command slate.

"No, we've stabilized her. A ground transport will do." Roy told him.

##I've a Mayfair standing by. Two spots. A rider bench and a gurney.##

"Send those attendants on foot for her." DeSoto told Chet. "She's 
in a stokes. I'll try to get another red tag for you to go along with her."

##They're on their way.## Kelly promised Roy. 

------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
Johnny moved rapidly through the next two cars, there were
three green tags, panicking assuredly, but he managed to convince
them to remain where they were inside the glass cracked vehicles
until other firemen arrived who could help walk them out to the triage 
station. 

"Meyers! I got a non-mover over here!" Gage shouted to another
paramedic that he had assigned to work under him. "Boy of ten
or so. In the black convertible!"

"Where are you?" asked the voice through the steam of violated
cars and dust.

"See my tags? I looped them onto the car's radio antennae!"

"Got you." shouted the man.

He rushed to the car door that Johnny was struggling to open and
helped him yank it ajar. Both men got inside in seconds and
crouched over the crumpled boy in the back seat. His shirt
was bloody. Gage knelt and listened close to the boy's face.
"He's not breathing." Johnny told him as he opened the child's
airway with a modified jaw thrust.

"Does he have a pulse?"

Gage felt for one at the boy's carotid. "Yes."

Meyers bent low and gave the boy five ventilations mouth
to nose, pressing the boy's lips closed to prevent escaping
air. "How about now?" he asked maintaining the boy's open
breathing position.

"That did it. He's around 46 times a minute." Johnny smiled.

Meyers sighed and slipped in an oropharyngeal airway in 
between the boy's teeth. The noisy breaths continued.

Gage cut away the child's shirt, looking for the reason
for the dampness staining the boy's clothes. "Pneumo.
Left side. I can feel it sucking in and out." he told Meyers.

"Only one?"

"Yeah."

"Here's a vasoline dressing." said the man, handing it to Johnny. 

Gage slapped it onto the child's chest wound on his back
and then wrote down his information onto a red tag.

As they were leaving the car, Meyers asked. "Where's the boy's
parents? Front seat's empty."

"Maybe they were walking wounded before anybody got here."

Meyers frowned intensely. "I hope they're found. This kid needs 
parental consent." 

"Roy'll call a police officer into the triage station to cover situations
like his to take protective custody. He'll do that with of all unattended
minors brought to him." Gage reassured him.

"Really?"

"He's real good that way with things like that. He's got two kids of 
his own." Johnny said. 

The two paramedics reluctantly left the gasping little boy alone in
his car to move on to the next one. They left their spray painted
marker for Cap to see and left.

Stoker began shouting and hand signalling to some crews over by 
the worse area of the pileup. Something was happening that only he
could see by the semi truck and it was bad.

"Uh, oh.." Johnny noticed, looking up to the hill to where the engineer
stood with Captain Stanley.

----------------------------------------------------------------------------

Photo:  A triage kit with tape, tags and vests.

Photo:   Roy on the biophone inscba.  
 
Photo:  Collapsed car and highway sign.
 
Photo:  Gage opening car door wearing turnout. 

Photo: Cap pushing down an HT antennae by engine. 

Photo: Car smashed into an obstacle. 

Photo: A helicopter in the air over the Ward engine.
 
Photo: Another triage kit, with case, markers and color ribbons.

***************************************************
From: "Cory Anda" <andacory@hotmail.com> 
Date: Mon Apr 10, 2006  6:43 pm 
Subject: Extended Rescue.. 

Captain Stanley's voice suddenly came over Johnny's band.
##Gage! Civilians are being stupid trying to render aid to 
someone under a pickup truck next to the east end of
580's viaduct overhang. Stoker says they're trying to use 
an oxyacetylene torch on something directly over him.##

Gage's head snapped up. "It takes all types. Where
are the cops when you need em?!" he said in frustration
to paramedic Meyers."Let's go." He got on his radio.
"Gage HT 51 to Engine 51. 10-4. We'll be there in
less than one minute.."

##Follow Stoker's flares in a line. They divert around fuel
spills. Don't worry about the steaming semi. That truck's 
been declared Hazmat neutral. Its payload's just milk
and the condensate's only thawing frost. You can
D/C both your scba apparatuses.##

"Copy that.." answered the first-in team. Happily,
they dumped their bottles into a conspicuous open
spot for easier equipment recovery later on.

Johnny and Meyers picked up their light triage packs and began 
to run. They stopped only long enough to point out moving victims 
to the other roving paramedic teams also assigned to search 
through the piled up cars. 

Soon, they were there. 

A dusty automobile driver ran up to them, pointing. "A driver's been
thrown headfirst into a rotating cement mixer. He's been buried alive under 
fresh cement. He's entangled in the mixer's motorized agitator.. My friend
and I are trying to help him."

"Show me.." said Johnny, his face growing tight. "Has it seized up?"
he asked about the barrel agitator.

"Yes. The blades aren't turning anymore around the shaft which 
I think's been cocked at an angle." said the man.

"Great, now get out of here. Make for those two firemen you
see on the hill by following along these cherry flares."

"But.." 

"It's for your own safety. There's more than enough people 
here now who can help that man." Gage snapped. Then
he noticed the cut over the man's eye. "We'll tend to you, too.
Take this tag and show it to them." Johnny said, passing off a 
hasty green tabbed triage tag. 

The man hesitated, looking at the other firemen jogging towards
them.

Gage gestured urgently. "Don't worry about him. We know what to 
do. Get yourself out, ok? Please, mister,...move!"

The man went.

Johnny and Meyers were shocked when they turned a corner around
the rolled over milk truck and saw the cement mixer. They could see only 
the victim's left hand and right leg extended and moving out the top of the 
hopper. His head was partially protruding through a small discharge port 
on the bottom. And there was a lot of dripping blood.

"Gage HT 51 to Engine 51.. We've a man heavily entrapped and in critical 
condition inside a construction agitator under hardening cement. I'm
declaring an extended rescue.." Gage told Cap.

Realizing the scope of the incident, Hank quickly called Headquarters'
communications center to land a medical evacuation helicopter near the 
scene. ##10-4, notifying L.A. and Truck 20 to report to your location.## said 
Cap.

As Gage and Meyers climbed to the top of the mixer, they encountered a 
beefy construction man attempting to free the victim by cutting the agitator 
shaft with a flaming torch. Molten metal from the shaft was flying through the 
air and landing on top of the moaning man, causing very obvious third 
degree burns to the exposed paling skin around his neck and back. 

"What the h*ll do you think you're doing?! Get away from there!" Meyers
said, hauling the torch out of the man's hands. "You're burning him!"

"But I was just trying to get a hole open down to him for you fellas."
said the worker. "He's bleeding ta death!"

"Are you crazy? There's a ton of fuel spilled around here. Didn't you
consider where all your sparks were blowing? You did more harm
than good, man. Get outta here. Now!" Gage shut down the torch and 
flung it away from their victim in disgust.

One of Truck 20's firemen immediately removed the worker from the area.
 
The two rescuers could see the victim's upper torso had pinned between the 
lower half of the mixing unit and the agitator shaft. He was trapped face 
down, from his head to his waist, under the agitator. His back was bent 
backwards under the shaft, and agitator blades had impaled three 
inches into his left shoulder. Johnny could see that the metal pistons would 
seriously limit the space available to rescuers for cutting operations.

Gage could hear the victim's muffled screams for help. 

"Hey, hey. Take it easy. The torch's gone. We got rid of it. Can you 
breathe ok?" Meyers asked the frightened man.

The man gasped, shaking his head. "N-no. Smothering me.." he gurgled.

The two paramedics positioned themselves on either side of the man's
head and discovered that the motion frozen agitator was causing a nasty
problem. The cement covering the victim's body had begun to dry, putting 
pressure on his lungs and diaphragm. And more of it was oozing onto his
face as he spat and choked and tried to turn his head away from it.

Meyers and Johnny knelt quickly to scoop wet concrete from around the man's
mouth and nose with their gloved hands. 

As they also removed cement from around their victim's body, they found his 
left arm was badly mangled. This was the source of the tremendous bleeding
pooling under the mixer. Johnny drew out a tourniquet and used it on the
man rapidly. "We need an oxygen tank at our location as fast as possible." 
he radioed out to Cap.

##It's on the way with Truck 20. They're also carrying a full squad's gear. 
ETA is half a minute.## Hank promised.

"Understood..." Johnny replied.
Gasping in effort as he worked to ease the man's breathing difficulty, Johnny 
looked up to see the heavy rescue truck equipped with a hefty complement of 
specialty rescue equipment, including hydraulic tools and lifting bags, arriving.

::Good, they're bound to have an exothermic torch for us to use.:: he thought.

-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Battalion Chief One arrived to the command hill shortly thereafter. He had 
heard Johnny's declaration of an extended rescue situation. He had received 
a face-to-face briefing from Cap minutes earlier and had assumed his 
full incident command. 

Cap said to him off channel. "Johnny tried to describe the victim's 
position in the mixer and.. Well, Chief, you just have to take a look for 
yourself."

------------------------------------------------------------------------

Soon, Battalion had. "Tricky. What's your plan?" he asked 20's head
rescueman and officer. 

"Me and my men'll cut that 300 lb. agitator shaft here to create a space 
between the blades and his chest. It'll give the medics more working room for
their I.V.s and gain them better access to determine the extent of his other 
injuries.." said the helmeted fireman.

"Make it happen, boys." agreed Battalion. Then he knelt down
next to Johnny. "How's he doing?"

"He's barely holding, Chief. We've got to get him out of here fast.
This cement's started drying and it's crushing down on all of
his arms and legs." answered Meyers.

"We're working on it." soothed Battalion. Then he looked
up. "Here's your medical gear." he said, motioning quickly
for the courier on the extrication fire truck to hasten in with his 
full arm load.

"Great.." said Johnny reaching for the O2 apparatus. He
placed the mask over the man's face and began to help him
breathe using the ventilator. In spite of the help, the man blacked out.
"D*mn it. Stay with us, sir. Hang on. We're working hard on
getting you out of there."

But the man didn't open his eyes at all.

Truck 20's rescue crews tried to use hydraulic cutters on the agitator shaft. 
Then they attempted to use hydraulic mini-cutters to sever the blades 
impaling the victim's body. But the blades and shaft proved to be too thick. 

They plied in again with a reciprocating saw.. Still, they had no success.

Finally, they placed a fireproof blanket around the victim and used the 
exothermic torch to cut the impaling blade. The procedure worked well, 
but the crew had to stop two minutes later when they became concerned 
about reburning their victim as they cut closer to his torso.

Battalion was thoughtful. "How about placing a wooden wedge between the 
blade and his body? A Partner K-12 saw would be a cinch to finish cutting 
the shaft. Don't you think?"

"That'll work.." agreed the truck officer, motioning for a free fireman to
go retrieve a chock from storage.

The firemen soon removed the heavy agitator shaft from the victim's
back, but the blade remained impaled inside of his shoulder.

"That hole's big enough. We gotta get in there." Gage fidgetted.
"He needs fluids yesterday."

"Ok, men. Step back. Let the medics in to work." ordered the chief.

Meyers and Johnny eagerly upended into the mixer, questing
for more information with what they could see and feel with
their slurry soggy gloves. 

They were soon disappointed.

With no blood flow to his severely damaged left arm and with his right 
arm pinned under his body, the paramedics couldn't establish an IV
on the man. And they soon discovered that the cement mixer's U-shaped 
drum made it nearly impossible to completely assess him from the waist 
down while he remained entrapped upside down like he was.

Meyers bit his lip. "This is taking too long." he mumbled to Johnny.
"I know." Gage agreed. "But we don't have much choice except to 
wait it out."

The crews stepped in once more at a wave from the chief,
to resume chistling concrete and cutting out twisted metal, 
bit by bit.

Johnny stayed on the man's head. "Let Meyers patch him in,
next metal-cooling break. We'll be monitoring him using the EKG 
so we'll be out of the way except for whoever's ventilating him." he 
said to the head rescueman.

The firemen nodded. He said. "Maybe all of this concrete's a blessing 
in disguise."

"How so?" Johnny asked.

"Ironically, although the drying cement's hindering us. It's probably
saving his life. His bleeding's being kept in check."

Johnny smiled. "Yeah, let's hope there're no cuts on a leg outside
of the ooze, or he'll exsanguinate further and lapse into irreversible 
shock."

"I'm all for that idea. Raging optimist. Know what I mean?" said the 
older fireman, giving Johnny an enthusiastic thumbs up.

To ease the rescueman's worries, Johnny echoed the 
gesture with a soft smile.

---------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
A few minutes later, Meyers looked up from his handheld where
he had been relaying updates to Roy on the trapped man so
DeSoto knew what to tell Dr. Brackett when he arrived at the triage
station. "Vitals?"

Gage said. "Pulse at the neck. 120 and thready. Respirations
unassisted are eight." he told him. "No reaction to pain. His
airway's clear. Hanging upside down like this, everything's running
out of his mouth well. But the demand valve's the only thing working 
for him. The ambu didn't provide enough internal chest pressure to 
afford him an adequate breath."

Meyers nodded and relayed the findings. Then he looked up. 
"Brackett's here. Just checked in. He says he's on his way to 
help us out. ETA in two."

"Thank youUuuu." Gage intoned with a low whistle of gratitude. 
"Now maybe we'll get the ball rolling."

But things didn't happen that way. 

Long after the rest of the car crash scene had been sifted through, 
hose sprayed down, and cleared of all its injured and dead people, 
Johnny's team and Truck 20 were still hard at work an hour and a 
half later...

------------------------------------------------------------------------------- 

Kel, looked up grimly at Gage and asked. "What's the scope showing 
now?" he shouted over the noise of dismantlement as the rescue crews 
struggled to take the cement mixer apart piece by piece from around 
the man.

Johnny looked up, pulled the stethoscope out of his ears, and then...

-----------------------------------------------------------------------

Photo:   Roy helmet scared close. 

 Photo:  Gage extricate man in car.jpg 

Photo:  McConnike talk to scba'd Cap.jpg 

Photo:  K-12 cutting close.

Photo:  Brackett, Gage with man c-spine car. 

Photo:  Child being longboarded. 

**************************************************
From :  Cassidy Meyers <killashandrarey@hotmail.com> 
Sent :  Friday, April 14, 2006 3:53 AM 
Subject :  Aftermath... 

Gage sighed.. "I'm seeing peaked T-waves, shortened QT 
intervals, and some ST segment depressions. He's at 
a rate of 130 and thready." 

"ahhHH,.." Brackett scowled, "Crush injury syndrome's setting
in already?"

"Could be just hypovolemia..." Johnny told him. 

"But hyperkalemia's a definite possibility in his case. That 
left arm of his is very close to being completely destroyed. Ok, Johnny. 
Here's what we'll do. I'll start another I.V. subclavian of Normal 
Saline. Hand me a 1000cc bag, would ya? Dial it wide open.
We'll try calcium chloride at 5 mL of 10% solution IV over two minutes.
The effect should last half an hour to an hour to control any electrolyte
induced arrythmias. Add Sodium Bicarbonate 1 mEq/kg piggyback.
Stop titration of either one if he slips into bradycardia. We're gonna
offset any possible rhabdomyolysis even before he starts it."

"Right, doc." Gage nodded, grabbing for the drug box a fireman
had brought very close to where the doctor and paramedics were
working. 

Brackett took a blood pressure reading on the man's thigh.
"It's holding. The cement's still having that compression effect.
It's acting like a mast suit." Kel grunted, reconsidering his options.
"Keep a close eye on his EKG for any bundle branch blocks. He's 
bound to widen his QRS-s and flatten P-waves if we aren't real 
careful getting him outta here."

The extrication team milling around the trapped man became quieter,
overhearing. "He's motion sensitive now?" asked Truck 20's captain.

"Yeah." said Meyers. "But we'll handle changes as they happen and
treat for it. He won't arrest on you. Just concentrate on getting him free,
in one piece, and we'll handle the rest."

The truck captain nodded.

Brackett frowned as he stabbed the needle home and got his
subclavian line. "Meyers, let's buffer him with glucose and insulin.
That way some of the potassium in his blood will shift back into
his body cells temporarily. Administer 1-2 amps D50W and 
5-10 U regular insulin IV. Once we get him out of here, we won't
waste time with an intubation. He's maintaining just fine the way
he is on that ambu, now that the cement's been thinned out."

The fireman, breathing for the man, agreed with Brackett's 
observation.

Ten minutes later, after carefully disentangling and extricating 
the victim from the mixer, the rescuing personnel rapidly assessed 
him. 

"He's still out, boys. He won't need any morphine." Kel told the
two paramedics as they cut away the man's crusty clothing.

A severe laceration to the man's buttocks was so large that Brackett 
had to use both hands to shovel hardening cement from inside 
of the injury to check its full damage extent. Then they immobilized 
him onto a long board.

Johnny itemized what he found for Brackett. "Right arm, humerus
fracture. Dislocated left ankle. Just that glut laceration, doc. These
welder burns here, and then just what you see on that left arm. 
Still no pulse in it."

Meyers quickly splinted what they found, using volunteers.

"Go ahead and straighten it out." Kel ordered. "Turn that palm up. 
How about now?"

"I've got refill.." Gage said as he saw blood begin to ooze out
of raw abrasions on the nearly severed hand's fingertips.

"Good enough. Watch the monitor. If he goes abnormal EKG wise,
boys, titrate a second dose of calcium chloride to turn it around
and flush the I.V. afterwards." Brackett said.

----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

By a miracle, the man didn't die on the way to Rampart despite his
being trapped for nearly two hours, hanging upside down, with critical 
injuries, inside a crushing, suffocating mound of raw, wet cement.

Roy, Johnny and Dr. Brackett, all conferenced in the hallway once
the helicopter crew had departed with their unloaded gurney.

Gage made a face. "He's in for seven hours of surgery?"

"Yep. And I think we'll manage to save his bad arm, too." said Brackett, 
grinning. "At least Joe seems to think so. His angiograms came 
back as completely workable."

"That's incredible. Johnny told me the whole story on how it happened.
And I still don't believe it." said Roy, raising his eyebrows.

"Oh, he's got a few rough spots to get through before he'll completely
heal." Brackett grinned. "His doctor will have to monitor him for
internal infection for four years at least, because lime from all that 
cement's been found to have entered his bloodstream."

"The effects'll linger that long?" Johnny gaped.

"Yes. Lime's caustic to tissue. And bone. Necrosis will still be an 
ongoing risk for him. It can act like battery acid that can concentrate and 
cause damage anywhere inside his body for a long while yet. But 
eventually, it'll accumulate as precipitate into his larger bones, 
out of harm's way."

Roy whistled. "Sounds like it was one a h*ll of a rescue, Johnny. I'm
sorry I missed it." he said with a horrified awe.

"It was a real challenge, Roy. We had obstacles every inch of the way.
Our victim's body position, the severity of his injuries, the inability to immobilize 
his cervical spine, the hardening cement that was compressing him, the tight 
quarters we had in which to treat him and from which to cut him free.." Johnny 
ticked off on each of his fingers.

Brackett waved farewell when he heard his name being summoned by
intercom to handle a walk-in case. He melted back into the hospital
crowds.

"See ya, doc." said Roy, lifting his HT. "L.A. This is squad 51. We're
available."

##Squad 51.##

Johnny waved goodbye to the E.R. doctor belatedly. "Where'd Dr. Brackett 
go? He tells that rescue way better than I can." 

"Duty called." smiled Roy mildly. "Come on, let's go. I'm sure
the guys'll be more than happy to be your captive audience once we get 
back to the station."

"Say, yeah. Maybe I can...submit this one up as a new extrication problem for
all the teaching manuals..." Johnny said, his eyes lighting up.

"Truck 20 already beat you to it." DeSoto told him.

Johnny blinked. "What makes you say that?"

"I saw them taking pictures of the truck and cement mixer after you had
left in the ambulance with your victim for the landing pad. And the chief was 
there drinking up all the nitty gritty details the extrication cap was telling him."

"Oh." said Gage, crestfallen. "That's .. that's too bad. Oh, well." he shrugged,
making for the squad. "I wonder what's for lunch.." he smiled, putting both
hands into his pockets. He whistled an aimless tune as he ambled away.

Roy rolled his eyes, and followed him. Unbidden, his stomach began to 
growl in earnest. "I'm beginning to wonder that myself.." he mumbled,
strolling out the ambulance entrance doors after his partner.

-----------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Photo: Paramedic with a car pile up victim.

Photo: Hyperkalemia on an ECG.
 
Photo: Marco using jaws on a car. 

Photo: Ambu bag on your face.

Photo: Johnny, Roy and Brackett in Rampart hallway.

Photo: Roy and Johnny driving the squad in the rain.

**************************************************
From: "patti keiper" <pattik1@hotmail.com> 
Date: Wed Apr 19, 2006  4:16 pm 
Subject: Water Day.. :) 

It was finally the long awaited Water Day.

All the gang were in their turnouts and helmets in front of the station, 
lined up along the brick wall framing the open driveway. And 
across the lawn. 

Engine 51 and the squad were both pulled out under the sun with
all their gleaming equipment doors ajar so milling kids could 
explore inside of them at will. Gage had set out a training
resuscitator filled only with air so the older kids could try out
the cool demand valve thumb trigger and mask on the manikin 
that he had thrown out onto the grass next to the yellow 
street side hydrant.

The sight of what looked like kids working a medical call only
served to attract more customers. Johnny began smiling at
his own cleverness at the idea. It was his idea also to post
a sign right next to Cap's ticket table that already answered 
the most frequently asked parent and child question. It simply
said. 'No, we don't have a fire pole. Sorry.'

Marco Lopez was already hard at work, entertaining the kids
at a spare picnic table, putting out lighter fuel fires inside of jiffy 
pop pans using a fire extinguisher and letting his young charges
do the same soon after.

Every so often, an appreciative motorist driving by would honk
and everybody would look up from whatever they were doing
and wave back, especially the bathing suited kids manning 
the red reel line Roy had pulled out for all the water games.

And above them all, snapping in the brisk, warm summer breeze,
was the banner Johnny had designed for the flagpole, declaring
that Saturday as Water Day.

For effect, Chet Kelly had rigged up four HTs on monitor in a square
around the driveway at its corners so the sounds of active fire station
broadcasts reverberated with nifty delated echoes around those
still waiting their turns and all the mothers standing at the admissions
table, where Cap was collecting the three dollar donation fees. 
Each mother or father was eagerly handing over for this,
the first ever, Station 51 Water Day event.

Marco laughed from where he stood by the squad, guarding all the 
medical gear. He pointed to the advertisement banner flying
beneath the state flag near Johnny and himself. "Where'd you come
up with that idea, Johnny? I think the symbolism's kinda neat." 

"Oh, that? Really? Heh. I guess." Johnny said, trying to not look at it.

Roy rubbed his chin thoughtfully as yet another kid took over his low 
pressure fire hose to play the Great Chicago-fire-save-Mrs.-O'Leary's-cow  
game. "Yeah. I wonder how many people have made the connection 
that your water drop logo is from all the 'San Bernadino Waste 
Management is your friend' posters."

Chet laughed with delight. "How's that for plagarism?" he teased.

Gage glared at Kelly and didn't deign to comment further.

Mike Stoker, standing as a guide near the engine's open
doors, did. "You know, I thought things would be total chaos
with us hosting all of today's activities so close to the street."

"Nah, Stoker, you got it all wrong." said Chet, helping some more
kids color fire safety rules cartoon pages and directed others to
draw even more fire colored chalk hopscotch games onto the 
driveway's baked surface. "Chaos doesn't mean that things'll go 
wrong. Chaos actually means..The Chiefs Have Arrived On Scene."

The rest of the gang chuckled loudly as they played with their
laughing young charges.

"Shhh," Roy cautioned Chet. "Not so loud. Cap could've heard
that." he warned Kelly.

"No way, DeSoto." said the helmeted Marco as he gave yet another
kid a try on his reel line fire hose to knock down the hinged toy 
flames surrounding the wooden cutout of the Chicago fire cow.
"He's so busy counting money to see if it's enough to
fund Chet and Stoker's mystery project, that he's tuning us out 
completely."

"You better hope so." laughed Gage, glancing over at Hank who
was just about overwhelmed with eager parents wanting to pay
"admission" for their kids. 

Roy rubbed his eyes free of water spray. "Aren't you glad we 
struck a deal with the arco refinery so all of these families can 
park their cars across the street without troubling traffic?"

"That was my idea." said Chet proudly. "Last thing I want to
see is another car accident for at least a little while."

Stoker, meanwhile, was telling jokes while he set each interested
child behind the wheel of the Ward so they could pull the airhorn
chain. He said to his latest child. "What kinds of ears do pumpers
have?"

The little boy gave up after only a few tries at an answer.

Chet piped up from the lawn. "I know the answer to that one, Mike.
You're so predictable. The answer's 'engineers' little boy."

The child laughed so hard that the oversized helmet on his head 
almost jiggled off his head.

Attracted by the slow, rubber necking traffic and the sight of a lot of 
helium balloons tied in bundles and held down by spare helmets 
around Station 51's front lawn, Vince pulled up in his squad car for 
a visit. 

The burly white helmeted cop grinned up a storm when he read the 
flag banner for the reason why there was such a festive atmosphere.
"Hey boys. What a nice idea for a fundraiser. Water Day, huh?
Does the city know about this yet? There's kind of a drought still
going on."

"Yes, we have our permit permission slip. It's right here."
Cap's face slacked off into instant mortification as he thanked 
another young mother for paying her two children's admissions. 
"Are you here because of a traffic complaint against us?"

"Nope." said Vince. "It's just natural born human curiosity working this 
time, Hank. All the drivers are on their own today. It's a weekend. I figure
they should be used to traffic jams and surprise holdups happening
on those days by now." he winced when a particularly close blast
of hose water from DeSoto's direction sprayed at him on the wind. 
"Whoa." he said, backing up a few steps.

"Sorry, Vince.." hollered Roy, grabbing onto the hands of a little kid
still mastering the hand bar valve on the reel hose he held between 
his knees.

"That's ok. That water felt good. It's hot out here this afternoon."
chuckled the policeman. " And I'm sure that both your of own kids are 
deathly afraid of getting in a water gun fight with you!"

"So right. I use that to gauge my efficacy as a real fireman." DeSoto
grinned at him toothily. 

Without being asked, Vince took advantage of the station's event 
on his beat and decided to take a few minutes to help out. He got 
Bonnie going on a game of doggy tag with a couple of kids starting 
to get frustrated with waiting in line for the engine tour.  

Two children nearby began discussing Bonnie's station duties.

"They use her to keep crowds back." insisted one youngster. 

"No, they don't!" said another angrily. "She's just for good luck." 

A third child brought the argument to a close. "They use the dog," 
she said firmly, "..to find the fire hydrant." she said crossly.

Their mothers, monitoring nearby, laughed at the charming 
misconception.

A few minutes later, Cap got up when the last family group had 
gotten their triage tag admission bracelets tied around their wrists 
and he wandered slowly over to Charlie the mechanic, who was 
helping the gang out with facts and trivia about the vehicle bay's 
closet scattered gear and offering complete encyclopedic litanies
on both the fire trucks. 

Charlie had left his maintenance Dodge, which looked very much
like Squad 51, in the back yard parking lot so it wouldn't be confused
for being the real one. He sighed expansively, sharing yet another
work related story of his days when he was a fireman before he became
a mechanic. "When I got on the job our oldest piece was a 1958 Mack. 
I loved the idea of driving a truck that was actually older than I was. 
It was an open cab, and we called the steering 'armstrong' steering, 
because it was so freakin difficult to steer! It came with a full cab but 
the chief at the time thought it was 'wimpy' for firefighters to be protected 
from the elements so he had it cut off! Heh." Then aside, Charlie leaned into
those of the gang listening in. "And you wondered why your ol' Crown
was made that way? He's why. They told me it cost $2000 bucks to
shave off yours."

"No way." said Stoker in horror. "Wasn't it hard to do that to her?"

"Not really. It was a reserve piece when I got on, and ideal for driver training. 
It was in service one night when I was assigned as the driver during one of 
those torrential, numerous call summer storm nights. It was raining so hard 
the wipers couldn't keep up and I remember half-standing so I could see 
over the windshield. I had the door open so the water could run out. 
One of the best memories of my career. Wouldn't trade it for anything."
he laughed.

Stoker shouted out from the driver's door of Engine 51 where he
was helping kids climb around the engine cab. "I don't miss her."
he said empathetically. "I hated getting wet."

Gage crowed. "Oh, so that's why you became an engineer."
he quipped. "I've always wondered about that." Johnny smiled
at him.

"Very funny. I did it for the better money actually." said the shy 
Stoker.  Then he shot forward inside the engine. "No..no no no.
Don't key up the radio mic. L.A. will wonder who the crazy caller
is and send out the looney bin truck after you. Complete with
straight jackets." he goggle eyed his captive audience of kids.

They all laughed at him, pointing at his odd and funny face.

By the time the day was over, nearly one thousand dollars had
been raised.

"Wow.." breathed Captain Stanley as he locked up the cash
box. "I think I'll store this in the office." he said, while the
others were cleaning up the lawn of decorations. He saw that
Roy was washing away any chalk mark driveway artwork and 
games that hadn't yet been scuffled away by the wind or
the many pounding tiny feet.  

One last mother and her son had lingered.

"Ma'am. Did you forget something?" Johnny asked her.
He had already handed out several pairs of forgotten shoes
and a beach towel that someone had left draped over the bushes.

"Oh, no. It's nothing like that. May my son use the restroom? 
We've still got to get across town."

"Oh, sure.. sure." Johnny told her, holding out his hand towards
the open garage. He raised his voice. "Chet?!"

"Yeah?" called out Kelly from where he was stuffing the manikin away
into a closet. 

"Can you show this nice young lady and her boy the head? It's
for him."

"Sure thing, Johnny." said the curly haired fireman, now divested of
his helmet and turnout coat. He led the two towards the locker room
door and safely around where Mike was backing the two station
vehicles, one by one, back into the yawning shelter of the apparatus 
bay.

Chet Kelly returned to join them all in the driveway while they watched
Roy casually spray the reel line around, scrubbing the pavement. Once
or twice, just for fun, DeSoto made them dance, using the water stream,
along a hopscotch or two while they were talking to each other until
they caught on to what he was trying to pull.

Finally, all the cleanup was complete. Bonnie ran into the garage
carrying the last bouquet of floating balloons and Marco
helped her to let them go to float up to the ceiling in the kitchen. 

------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Cap was about to close the main bay door for the night when
a frantic female shout startled them all. It was the mother,
sounding embarrassed, yelling for some help from inside
the bathroom.

The gang hurried in. Gage was so intent with finding out
what was wrong, that he left his helmet on his head.
 
"Thank you for coming. I just wasn't sure what else to do." 
said the red faced mother. "I only had my back turned for
a minute. I only wanted to wash my own hands at the sink."

"What happened?" asked Cap.

"You'll see. I still can't believe it myself." she said.

They followed her down the short wood panelled 
hall, to the bathroom, where a sobbing little boy had his 
arm and head inside the toilet bowl, stuck almost up to his 
shoulder. Roy and Johnny looked at each other and just smiled. 

Roy sat right down cross-legged on the floor, eye level with the little 
boy. "Wanted to see where the water went, did ya?" 

The boy nodded his tear streaked face. 

Gage asked Cap if they still had any cooking oil. Hank nodded his
head. "Marco. Go grab it. That and a toilet plunger." Stanley ordered.

 "I already tried soap. I think I tried just about everything in here to
get him free." sighed the mom. "Even someone's shaving cream."
 
Lopez returned. "Want a silent called, Cap?"

Hank shook his head minisculely to spare the mother more
embarrassment.

The mother was making a face. "He hates the idea of getting
exposed to germs. I have no idea what came over him to
do THIS kind of stunt." she snapped.

"Son, I cleaned the bathroom myself a few hours ago with a very
strong germicide. Nothing's gonna get you sick." Hank chuckled
at the inverted child.

Sighing, the boy shook his head in relief. 

Gage told Marco to hand the small jar of Crisco over to him, 
"I have some of that 'special fireman's oil additive.' that we use 
all the time, right here..." he winked at the boy. 

The child looked at him with interest, intently watching Johnny 
as he took a small white plastic bottle from his pocket. Gage
made a show of "adding" it to the jar of oil. 

Gage knew that the child was tensed up, and probably involuntarily, 
had his hand in a fist. Whenever the mom tried to pull his arm out, the 
anticipation of pain would cause him to scream and tense up more. 

The mom, not being able to bear causing pain to her son, had then
stopped. Johnny knew if he could get the child distracted and calm, 
he'd relax the arm and the fist, and Roy could probably then 
maneuver his arm out of the toilet's wash hole.

::Stoker's standby Plan B of course, would work too, but that would 
definitely do some unnecessary damage to the toilet fixture. K-12's 
are anything but subtle.:: Johnny mused to himself.

Gage put on his best paramedic smile. "There are magic ingredients 
in the oil now. It's gonna get you unstuck real fast." he said, while 
Roy rubbed a handful of oil down the boy's arm. 

At the same time DeSoto was feeling the angles of the child's 
arm, trying to picture how it was turned inside the drain hole and
to check to see if it still had a pulse in it.

Johnny just talked to the little boy, keeping up a steady stream of 
banter while he kept smiling eyes on the child, making sure that the 
boy's eyes were on him exclusively, and not on his trapped arm. 

Roy had gotten it out to the elbow, when the boy screamed in pain. 

The mother jumped. 

Roy immediately stopped probing, holding the boy's face out
of the water when his head dropped down in a reaction.

Gage took a breath, and studied the boy's face closely.
Johnny kept talking. "That only felt funny, it didn't really hurt 
did it?" 

The boy sobbed. "My neck's getting tired."

"It's ok.." said Roy. "I got your head. I won't let you drown on us.
Don't worry." he soothed, trying not to laugh. "Stoker, could
you see if you can plunge down some of this water away from
him so he feels more comfortable?"

"Sure." said Mike and he gingerly sent the remaining bowl's
water down the hole around the boy's arm using the toilet
plunger Marco had found in the locker room.

Gage soon continued where he and the child had left off. 

The mother was getting frustrated. "I don't care if you have
to smash the toilet. I'll pay for any damage. Just get my son out!"
 
But Cap knew there were risks involved, and hoped to avoid that 
scenario. "We'll get him out, ma'am. We just have to wait for
his muscles to relax a little. That's all." said Hank mildly. "Here.
Have a seat on this changing bench."

The mother's frustration caused the boy to tense up again. 

And Johnny had to get him calmed right back down again.

At one point, the child asked him. "Why do you have a helmet
on in the firehouse?"

 Johnny laughed, "I must look silly with a helmet on in the bathroom!
You should see me when I take a shower..." he said, bugged eyed.

The little boy laughed, and at that moment, Roy got the rest of his
arm out. "I got it.. There.. that wasn't so bad now, was it?"

"No.." said the boy with disgust as he held his soggy arm out
for Marco and Chet to dry with a few bathroom towels.

"Did you hurt your neck or head at all when you fell in?"
Johnny asked, gingerly feeling the vertebrae in the child's neck
and through the boy's hair as he felt for potential problems.

"I'm fine. Just let me outta here." said the boy, shooting to his
feet. "Mom. I'll wait for you by the flagpole." he said crossly,
now fully embarrassed about what had happened to him.
 
When the small family was leaving across the street for
their car, which was the last one left in the lot, Gage tipped 
his firehat to the mother, and he teased her, "So...,Mom..., 
where does the water go? We'll be free of charge if you
answer that one for your son." he grinned.

Cap smacked Gage's arm in a mock discipline for being mean.

As the mother opened the green Matador's door, he 
heard the boy asking her just that same question. 

"Mom.. could you 'splain it to me? Please?" he begged.
"I only wanted to know."

The slamming car door closed on her answer. Soon, they
were gone with a squeal of tires on the boulevard.
 
Roy and Johnny laughed as they joined the others
still standing in the driveway. 

"So, what was the magic oil additive?" DeSoto asked. 

Johnny took the white bottle out of his pocket, "Tylenol!" 

DeSoto told him. "You should have given it to the mother."

Then Chet asked sarcastically amused, "So, you think 
this story will make the front page on this month's Firefighter's
Magazine?"

Gage replied, "Oh, h*ll, yeah! We were d*mned heroic. Ouch.
I think I lost all the feeling in my legs sitting on the floor like that."
he said rubbing his thighs.

"That's gotta count for something." said Roy to Cap and the others,
who were immensely enjoying the growing night's soft breezes and
their rising cases of sunburn.

They stood in silence for a while, smiling to themselves, admiring the
twinkling summer stars.

Then Chet asked, with a straight face. "But Gage, seriously...
Where does the water go?" 

-------------------------------------------------------------------

Photo:  Station 51's front sign.

Photo:  A water hose squirting out at you. 

Photo:  Kids squealing in joy while getting wet.

Photo:  Charlie the mechanic in street clothes with Roy.

Photo:  Water Day kids games. O'Leary's cow.

Photo:  Kids peek into engine compartment. 

Photo:  Roy and Johnny on a bathroom detail. 

Photo:  Kid stuck in the toilet.

Photo:  A toilet cross section getting plunged.

Photo:  Stoker, Chet and Marco cleaning engine parts. 

Midi Music File:  'Any Second Now' by Depeche Mode.

**************************************************
From: Jeff Seltun <finiterider@yahoo.com>
Date: Thu, 20 Apr 2006 16:41:51 -0700 (PDT) 
Subject: Chaos Night..


Rampart was anything but quiet. Dixie was fielding
five ambulance patients as they poured in the red
flashing light filled entrance. "How many more?"
she asked the latest set of attendants bearing in yet
another bus accident victim.

Sam, a cauliflower eared veteran, sighed and shrugged.

McCall grumbled under her breath. "Ok,. uh. Let me take
a look at them all again before I start giving out
destinations.. Hang on.."

Dixie blinked when she realized that all of them were
broken legs. "Front end crash?" she guessed, mumbling
to herself. Then she ran plans off out loud as she awaited
the two doctors she requested by emergency page.
"He can wait, she can wait, she can wait.. Ah, tib/fib? 
Let's wait, too."

"Right here in the hallway, Miss McCall?" asked one of
Station 10's paramedics. 

"Yep. We're triaging here since you didn't have time to 
there." she told him. "Keep your victim's I.V. TKO. His
EKG's looking good." Dixie looked up. "Who's got
the short of breath?"

Station 99's medics raised their active rain wrapped HTs.
"Us. We do."

"Ok, you first. Into Treatment Four. I've got a defib set up
and an intubation tray. Dr. Early will be right with you."
she promised.

"Dixie? What do you have?" shouted Kel, jogging out of
an opening elevator.

"Bus crash. Transfers from Mount Sinai Hospital. They're
at capacity. I've got four lower leg fractures, and one
possible cardiac slated for Joe in Four." Dixie told him,
handing off her phone notes that still had wet ink from all
of her scribbling. It had been only four minutes since she
received word that her department would be receiving the
overflow.

The waiting teams of paramedics were patient, keeping up
on their vitals sets as the two organized their response.

"Ok..." said Brackett. Then he looked up. "Joe. There's an 
SOB in Four."

"He conscious?" asked Early, hurrying out of the cafeteria
annex corridor near them, where he had been eating a very 
late meal. 

"No.." said Dixie and one of 99's medics at the same time.

"All right. Where's his run sheet?" asked Joe.

"Under his pillow." said the second paramedic through the door
he had been holding ajar in anticipation of Joe's arrival.

"Ok, get it out for me, wouldya boys?" Joe smiled. 

"Thanks, Joe. Sorry about dinner.." shouted Kel as he
checked the run sheets on two of Dixie's wall parked
gurney patients.

"No problem. Guess it's time to start earning my pay." said 
Early.

The white haired doctor disappeared into the red priority room.

Brackett looked at the trauma on the legs of two, seeing blood
stains under their sheets. "Surgery for these." he pointed. "I've
got surgeons on standby up in the suites. The head OR 
nurse'll intercept you. She goes by the name of Carol Evans."

"Evans? Right.." said a newer paramedic from 24's. 

Dixie couldn't help but smile as she remembered all over again
that her good friend and ex-second in command of the ER had
been promoted upstairs only last month. "And I wish her all
the luck.." McCall whispered warmly under her breath.

"You said something?" Brackett asked as he listened to some
fast breath sounds on his remaining two patients.

"Nothing critical. You want these two in Three? It's clear. I just had
the headache case moved to the floor." Dixie told Kel.

"Yeah, you read my mind. That room's closest to the portable X-ray."
Dr. Brackett said. "Is Mike on the way?"

"Yeah,.. He said he's hitting some traffic.." said Dixie.

Kel frowned as he checked the pedal pulses and Babinski's on
the two waiting to transfer into the room. "Wouldn't that be
ironic if he's driving by the scene of this very same accident?"

"I'm trying not to think about it." McCall said. "Uh, oh." she said,
glancing up at another flash of red lights as they pulled up at
the ER entrance and killed their sirens. She saw two very, very
sooty firefighter paramedics get out of a Mayfair in a hurry, carrying
two large bore I.V.s. "What's 110's doing here? I heard Mercy copy
their call." she grumbled.

Sharon Walters apologized. "Sorry, Dix. Mercy's just declared an
all full status. I was going to tell you but..." said the dark doe eyed,
light blue smocked young nurse intercepting the new team at the doors.

"Oh, terrific.." Kel said. "Dix, would you--?"

"Yep." said McCall, giving the order for the two remaining leg cases
to go into Treatment Three. "Gimme your orders you wrote down. I'll
have the labs started ahead of time on these two for you."

Dr. Brackett went running for the new arriving patient, who was 
dark with ash and being bagged. "Is he a burn case?" he asked
the two paramedics. 

"No. Smoke inhalation." said one of the paramedics. "He was
converted from full arrest four minutes ago."

"Couldn't get a tube down?"

"Didn't have time. He was a load and go right now. Orders from
our Battalion Chief. We were lucky enough just to get these I.V.'s in,
doc." said the gasping exhausted, smoke stained firefighter.

"How big was your fire?"

"It's a crack house. Single story. This guy's got a friend still
coming. He was a little out of touch with reality due to better living 
through chemistry but he was conscious and stable." said 110's
senior medic. 

Brackett sighed, painfully aware of a growing problem with
Rampart's own available remaining bedspaces.
 "Ok, take him into One. I'll join you. Sharon.. have respiratory
therapy called to bring down a respirator for him. Looks like
I'll have to intubate him myself." said Brackett. "Then call
the administrators and let them know about our own rapidly
diminishing patient bed capacity. Get an exact count of how
many we have left and let me know directly!"

"Yes, doctor." Walters said swiftly as she held the door
open for the fire case and Dr. Brackett both.

The hospital staff began to hasten around Dr. Brackett, 
settling into a new mode of activity without having to be
prompted.

Automatically, L.A. County Fire Department's air fleet was
notified of a possible re-routing relay operation, from Rampart's
parking lot, for the moment the hospital was declared full. 

The only other option after that was flights out of the city into
the surrounding suburbs to all of the Level Two trauma centers.
"Let's hope it doesn't come to that." Dr. Brackett murmured, "or
all the fire departments in the area will have to take on those
extra long transports themselves untilizing the private ambulance
services."

Kel Brackett shouted the moment the doors closed shut on all of
his room's staff and his fire case. He had glanced at the EKG monitor 
Walters just hooked up. "Boys, stick around a minute." he told 
Squad 110. "I'm seeing--"

"Doctor.. he's in full arrest.." said Sharon, handing the paddles 
over to Kel. 

The two paramedics took over the man's ambu bag and chest
compressions.

Dr. Brackett gelled his paddles and drove down the first shock
to the man's clammy skin. ::Dixie. I hope you're faring with your
cases better than I am right now. My batting average is awful.:: 
thought the sweating doctor.

----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- 

Dixie had her hands full in Treatment Three. One of her leg cases' 
morphine dose had worn off and it was taking everything she and
two orderlies had to keep the large man on the bed. She told a
passing nursing assistant, who had run into the room at the commotion,
to call security for extra help.

McCall looked up, with an angry thought, even as her voice began
a calm, placating reassurance she hoped would relax the man.
::Doctor Morton. Where the h*ll are you?:: she demanded privately.

------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Doctor Morton hit the ER entrance doors at a dead run, slamming
his palm into the emergency release switch to make the doors fly
open faster. "All right. Where's the worst?"

Five sets of fingers pointed down the hallway. Mike skidded to a halt,
his Levi jacket still on, and it was then he saw the retreating backs 
of two security guards rushing into Treatment Three. He followed 
them there, moving fast.

"Doctor!" yelled Dixie. "This guy has bilateral leg fractures. 
He's not combative. Only in pain."

"I got him!" said Morton, drawing up a fast injection of MS into
a syringe.

"His I.V.'s gone..." Dixie said, holding the man's fighting head.

"Then we'll have to do this the hard way.."

"I.M.?"

"Yeah.. Hold him down people.. Tightly. Dixie, cut away his pants."

McCall did so as the man grunted and screamed and tried to throw
off both of his splints.

Morton delivered the narcotic, double dose into the man's hip, and 
rubbed it. And then he helped the four men hang onto the man while 
they all waited for the medication to take effect. "How's victim number 
one?" Mike gasped, looking over his left shoulder at the other
gurney in the room.

"Stable.." said Dixie, backing away to recheck that person's
vitals status. "She doesn't have spiral fractures like he does."

"Just how many new people did we get in the last fifteen minutes?"
Morton asked sarcastically, getting concerned despite his frustration.

Dixie sighed, trying to catch her breath. "Five from a bus crash.
One from a house fire. Who knows how many more we'll be getting.
Mercy's full and so's Mount Sinai."

Morton whistled under his breath. "Helicopters on standby?"

"Yes. The fire department's been notified." McCall answered.

"Where's Joe and Kel?"

"Joe's with a possible cardiac in Four. Don't know where Kel
is. Last I saw, he was working over 110's redirected SI case
in the hallway." Dixie replied.

"Ok, first things first. This guy's gotta settle down. Boys, go
ahead and strap him down. I'm authorizing restraints for his
own safety." ordered Morton to the orderlies and the security
guards.

They did so. A minute later, the man sighed and passed out
and Dixie automatically opened his airway and slapped on an
oxygen mask. "How much did you give him?" she asked with
wide eyes.

"Fifteen milligrams." Morton grinned openly.

Dixie let out a surprised look of admiration and shook her head
ruefully.

"He's a big boy..." said Morton. "Milt, go ahead and put in his
oral airway. Take his vital signs and give me what you got."
Then he dismissed the security pair. "Thanks. We'll call you
for the next one." he told them bruskily as he got to closer
work on his two patients.

The two guards departed, adjusting their uniforms and finger 
combing their hair back into place before exiting the room.

-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
Station 51 was quiet by comparison.

The gang was....

--------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Photo:   Dixie, Kel and Sharon Walters discussing cases.

Photo:  Joe and Kel looking at a cardiac case.

Photo:  Morton, fighting with a man on a gurney.

Photo:  Dixie McCall on the red crisis phone.

************************************************** 
From: Patti or Jeff or Cassidy <theaterhost@voyagerliveaction.com> 
Date: Fri Apr 21, 2006  1:28 pm 
Subject: Sweet Tooth. 

....just finishing up with the dinner dishes. Stoker and Kelly
had long since disappeared into the bowels of the locker 
room, where they had set up handyman's tools and of
all things, a sewing machine.

Johnny could hear it echoing clearly around the ceiling in
the large bay surrounding the fire vehicles. And his curiosity
was nearly getting the best of him...for the second time.

Roy noticed his discomforture. "Oh, now don't go starting
that up again. Cap'll eat you for a snack for sure."

Gage abandoned his soggy dish towel and snagged another
dry, crisply folded one from the utensil drawer to replace it
while he dried the last pot. "Can a guy help it if he's curious
about just what the heck his friends are working on? Aren't
you dying to find out just what kind of contraption is so good
that it makes a full Battalion Chief order up a new fundraiser
event, our Water Day, just to finance it?"

"No." said Roy, blandly, pulling the rubber stopper out of the
sink. The water there started gurgling with a noisy suck down
the drain. "We're finished here. How about some ice cream
everybody?"

"Here. Here." said all the rest of the gang appreciatively.

Even Bonnie barked from her place on one of the bright yellow
orange varnished kitchen chairs.

"Ok, I'll dish them up." said Roy, smiling. He pointedly ignored
his partner's growing restlessness about the preverbial project
carrot, dangling just out of sight of his nose, in the other room.
"Cap? Chocolate or vanilla?" DeSoto asked, looking up.

"You need to ask? What color is my coffee in the morning?" he
gruffed.

"Brown."
  "White." said both Roy and Gage at the same time.

Marco, working on a crossword puzzle nearby, started chuckling.
"Shows how observant you two are." he teased. "Roy, he wants
chocolate. Cold enough to stand a spoon in it. Just like the java he
pours into his mug and always leaves in the freezer for a few minutes
before he drinks it."

Johnny made a face. "Eeoow. Cap... Iced coffee?" he shivered.

Roy opened the freezer, found Cap's chilling coffee pour about which
they had all been pondering, and handed it to him. "Sure, best thing since
Sunday morning breakfast sometimes. Especially in the summer.
Would you be drinking hot coffee with a sunburn as bad as Cap's?" 
he whispered on the side to his partner, pointing even as Hank
rubbed an itch gingerly on a still painful ear.

"Uh,... NoooOO." Johnny said, his voice moving up a scale. "Actually, I 
think I'd rather prefer lemonade, heh, heh." he said, rubbing a few 
fingernails on his water drop dotted uniform shirt to polish them.

"We don't have any." said Roy, tightening his lips into a scowl.
"And quit fidgetting. You're making me nervous."

Johnny threw up his hands, stalked over to the couch, scooping
up Bonnie along the way, and he plunked down onto the leather couch,
starting to stroke her cinnamon and black streaked coat aggressively,                     **
much to her obvious delight. "Oh for Pete's sake, guys. Doesn't anybody 
even care what Frankenstein-ian invention those two are crafting up
in the changing room?!" he said to the room at large.

Nobody answered. They were all enjoying Johnny's comical
reactions too much to end it so soon.

Roy finally offered up a tidbit. "Whatever it is," he said, licking
frosty but melting Baskin Robbins off of his fingers. "We get
to take it into Rampart for the next stage of testing tonight. It's 
gonna be done by Brackett himself if he's not tied up." DeSoto 
told Gage.

Johnny's hand on Bonnie's back stopped stroking and the tiny
yorkie yipped in dismay, shoving her nose back under his palm 
eagerly to demand a resumption of attention. "Oh, sorry, girl." 
said Gage, guiltily plying in once more. "What's gonna be done?"

"Hush, Gage. You'll see it at the end of your next patient 
call after you get in to resupply." Hank said with finality. "Honestly? 
Your nosing's getting more annoying than my kids' nagging at me to 
buy them something from the new mall one of these days." said Cap, 
accepting his bowl from Roy with a smile. "Thanks, Roy."

"Anytime.." DeSoto whispered, thoroughly enjoying Johnny's self
made predicament. "And yeah, I'll get you some Solarcaine for
your ears then, too."

"Thanks. You read my mind." Cap said appreciatively.

"I'm a good paramedic." Roy told him.

"I would sure hope so." Hank fired back. "Or you wouldn't be working here."

Right then, Stoker and Kelly walked briskly into the kitchen. "Ah ha!"
said Chet in discovery. "I thought I smelled Cap's coffee curdling in
the cold. It IS time for dessert. Anything left?"

"Tons." said Roy. "Help yourselves." he told them.

Chet rubbed his hands together and cleaned them free of what looked
suspiciously like glue to Johnny on a damp dish towel. "I put them both
in the rear squad compartment, Roy. Inside a spare stokes."

"Ok, I won't forget they're there." replied the sandy haired paramedic, 
putting the finishing touches of his own two scoops of both vanilla and 
chocolate into his carved wooden bowl.

Bark! said Bonnie.

"Oh, yeah.." said Roy, setting the ice cream crusted scoop down onto
a saucer for Bonnie to enjoy. 

The dog was out from under Johnny's hands in an instant.

Chet burst out laughing. "Roy, that's mean. What if her tongue gets stuck?"

"I rinsed it a little.." DeSoto told him. "What do you take me for? A sadist?"

"Yes." said Johnny. "The worst kind for not sharing privileged information..."
he hissed through his lips as he jerked a pro-offered ice cream bowl out
of his grinning partner's hands.

Roy didn't rise to the bait. "Patience is a virtue..." he said, holding up a
lecturing index finger. "You'll see everything soon enough. And you're 
gonna love it." DeSoto promised him.

"Yeah... I do." piped up Marco.

"Not you, too..." Johnny glared in irritation at Lopez.

"They demo'd it for me this afternoon in between kids during a pause 
in all the water games. I think it's a really, really good idea.." Lopez
said, slurping up his ice cream as only a hose jockey could.

Gage glommed onto the hint. "AhhhhHHhh. It's a device of some 
kind. Something that a firefighter's gonna be using eventually." Johnny
smiled brightly, finally thinking himself the cleverest of all firemen.

"Duhhh." said Chet. "What else would we have fundraised for in a firehouse?"
said the curly haired Irishman sarcastically.

Johnny's face fell into irritated dismay and got even worse when Cap
laughed hugely out of his newspaper.

-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

It was hours later, and the gang was deep in slumber when
the automatic lights came on, rocketting them out of bed
and into their attached suspenders and boots.

EEE.Ooo.OoowwwwWWWwww. ##Station 51. Foam 127. Station
9. Tanker fire. At the intersection of 101 and Riverside. 101
and Riverside. Time out:  0306.##

"What time is it, Cap?" sniffed a sleepy Chet.

"Listen up, you twit. Sam just said it over the airwaves."
Hank replied, equally fuzzy as both men rushed for the trucks.
"And for that, I should make you enter this one into the log book
for lat-- oww." Cap winced as he bumped a sunburned shoulder
against the doorframe as he went out after the others.

Kelly dashed under his arm as Hank froze in pain. "You shoulda
worn sunscreen like I told ya, Cap!" Chet said gleefully.

"Mother's keeper.." muttered Hank as he yanked open
the Ward's passenger side door.

Station 51 rolled out.

-----------------------------------------------------------------------------

Soon, they were very near. And Cap had received an update.
He thumbed the truck to truck mic. "Guys.. I've just been told it's
a diesel truck. Overturned. Possibly propane." he advised 
everybody and the squad.

##10-4, Cap.## said Johnny through the patch. ::Oo, this'll be a
fast one if we don't have any serious injuries. Then it's
back deep into slumberland for all of us..:: he thought happily.

Hank's voice boomed out once more on the main channel.
"Don't get out until we're all sure what we're facing!" he ordered.

As the Ward and Dodge turned onto 101, the gang could see 
smoke, but no fire up on the Interstate. 

::That's odd.:: thought Cap to himself, running through his options
on how to fight a truck fire when it couldn't be seen so very well
in the night's utter darkness. ::Huh. It would have to hit lightpoles.::
he sighed. He toggled L.A. "L.A., Engine 51..."

##Engine 51, this is L.A.##

"Respond Light Truck 90 to our location. Mile marker....34. Eastbound."

##10-4. 90's ETA is six minutes.##

Hank held up his glove for Stoker to hold them off a goodly distance
from the roiling black smoke to keep a very healthy and safe breathing
margin. He got out and sniffed the air. "That's not fuel." he told the 
others as they gathered around him, donning full scba. "That's--"

Headquarter's voice burst through their Converta-Com. ## Engine 51. L.A.##

"L.A., Engine 51." Cap mic'd quickly. 

##An L.A.P.D. patrol car's just confirmed that your tanker is carrying 
a single payload. 10,000 gallons of....pancake syrup.##

"Pancake syrup?" Chet asked incredulously.

L.A. went on.## There's a report of one minor driver injury on the
shoulder.##

"10-4, we'll keep an eye out for the victim. Engine 51 out. Ditch
the air tanks, boys. Don't think scorching carbon's gonna do all that 
much harm to us in the short term." laughed Cap.

"Smells like burning marshmallows.." said Marco, grabbing some
hose.

Cap, was still standing by the LaFrance's cab. 

Stoker had handed him the HazMat book without asking and 
was helping him riffle through it.

Gage caught on, determining their wind direction. "Yeah. 
How in the world DO you put out a pancake syrup fire?" 

Roy shrugged, grabbing out the biophone, oxygen and the
light dressing case. "With batter?" 

Everybody shared a laugh. 

Roy and Johnny soon found their dazed, scuffed truck driver.
A male. And they set to work assessing him while the others
worked to snuffle out the hidden fire hissing softly under
the smoke rising up from the large, slowly spreading pool of 
superheated tree sugar.

Soon, the fire was knocked down and Cap cancelled the foam
truck and second alarm assignment.

The Battalion Chief arrived. "What happened?" McConnikee asked.

Cap couldn't help himself. "Fire."

"Oh?" said Battalion, starting to smile. "This had
better be good."

"Oh, it is." Hank chuckled. "We've just this guy who's
a little singed, but unharmed."

Soon, the veterans of the hose were joking about hot maple
syrup and going back home to get containers.

Then, Vince arrived on scene. He had shown up for traffic control
but had missed a few transmissions. "So, what happened?"

The Chief and Cap looked at each other. "Fire." Hank informed
him cheekily. Then Battalion bent down and scooped up a fingerful of
the glop and ate it. "Tastes like Mrs. Butterworth's."

"You're kidding." chuckled Vince.

"Would I be eating anything on the ground like this, mister, if I was?" 
laughed the Chief.

Nearby, Johnny was pumping up a BP cuff on the man they had laid 
down onto the ground for safety's sake. A passing motorist, sliding by the
now declared unhazardous crash site, hollered out. "Is he gonna die?"
to the working paramedics.

Gage looked up in utter shock and irritation. "Sure he dies...in 
about 80 years..." said the angry paramedic to the annoying bystander.

Roy got fed up at another one who was rude enough to open his
mouth while they were loading up their patient into a Mayfair.

"What happened?" asked the second motorist. 

DeSoto erupted. "Plane crash!" he shouted back.

The driver shot Roy a pissed off look and rolled up his window
again.

"Nice.." admired Gage as he buckled in their man.

Of course Vince arrived belatedly to hush up all the coasting 
gawkers with his intimidating bulk.

Before the double doors of the ambulance were shut firmly by Hank, 
Chet shared a gem with everyone. "Hey.. who's up for some pancakes 
for breakfast? That truck smells real good.."

Even the bruised, sticky, and blanketed trucker laughed.

---------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Photo:  Gage getting laughed at by Stoker and Kelly.

Photo:  Gage bothered by a mystery while coffee pours.

Photo:  Overturned hose washed tanker.

Photo:  A pool of amber syrup on the ground.

Photo:  A bottle of Mrs. Butterworth's pancake syrup.

Photo:  Marco and Roy at an overturned tanker's window.

Photo:  A man being splinted by Roy.

**************************************************
From: Patti or Jeff or Cassidy <theaterhost@voyagerliveaction.com> 
Date: Sun Apr 23, 2006  2:37 pm 
Subject: The Shattering.. 


Dixie McCall and Doctor Brackett were in the ER nurse's lounge,
nursing steaming cups of satisying Folgers instead of 
screaming, fighting, leg bleeding people for once. 

"So, did he live?" Dixie asked, smiling with her eyes closed 
while she gave herself a java treatment strictly by inhalation.   

Kel was so tired that he was almost mesmorized by the way
the flourescent lights in the room glowed off the steam curls
wafting around Dixie's eye lashes. "Which one?" he chuckled.
"Mr. 'Bus M.I.' or the street bum on the curb who suffered a 
stroke watching the first guy stagger away from the accident 
site?"

"Both." McCall amended.

"They'll be fine. The first was just a junctional problem and the
second is responding to steroidal and anticlotting measures."

"That's good. All my leg cases are gonna recover, too. Except
perhaps for mine. I ache all over." she complained, finally taking
a gingerly sip of her stale coffee.

"Tell you what? We both get off in two hours. Why don't you grab your
swimsuit out of your locker and I'll fire up the hot tub on the deck. Just
for you."

"Hhmm. Tempting. Do I have to cook?"

"Lord no. Not after a night like tonight. That's what takeout's for."
grumbled Kel.

Dixie's eyes twinkled. "Deal. But first you and I gotta take care of
one more thing before we go. Remember you said you'd--"

The breakroom door opened. It was the dark eyed Sharon, calmer now
but still with dishevelled hair. "Dixie? Roy and Johnny are here. You
asked me to let you know when they dropped off their latest patient.."

Kel finally remembered his prior arrangement. "Oh, that's right.Thanks, Ms. 
Walters. We'll get right with them. Do they have a stokes with them?"

Sharon looked sideways, thinking for a moment. "Uh,. Sort of." she
said mysteriously. "Does what looks like a sheet covered DB count?"

Brackett and Dixie burst out laughing. Kel's mirthful mouth split open
in amusement and he gleefully got to his feet to rinse out both his 
and Dixie's drained coffee mugs in the tiny sink next to the fruit vending 
machine. "Those two." Brackett smiled. "You think a couple of firemen
wouldn't get embarrassed about wheeling a CPR manikin into the emergency
room."

Sharon frowned. "Now why would they be doing that?" still holding the door
she had cracked opened.

"Wanna find out?" Kel asked her.

"Sure. I've got a few minutes. Oh. Uh. Dixie. Carol says hi, and all our treatment 
rooms have been cleaned up and are ready for the next wave to show up." Walters 
reported.

"Shhh." Dixie hissed. "Or you'll curse us with more patients too early. We haven't
had a decent chance to catch our breaths back yet."

"Sorry.." Sharon apologized while she ducked out of the room to show
the two senior staffers where DeSoto and Gage had holed up.

Brackett and Dixie soon followed her to meet up with 51's paramedics, padding
down the still disarrayed hallway, piled up with extra supplies and gurneys. The
waiting room, thankfully, was back down to normal density for walk-ins. And Morton
and Early were deftly thinning down those numbers as they met their cases as
they came to them.

Kel tapped his watch at them and held up ten fingers. Joe and Mike nodded their
understanding.

Sharon took them to the vacuum isolation room, now brightly lit with its windowless
door propped wide open.

Johnny Gage was leaning over the single center bed while he manhandled 
every inch of something wrapped around the training manikin's torso.
The disguising sheet was shoved down around the doll's ankles and Brackett 
could see that everything Chet and Stoker had sketched out for him had been
made and was in order. 

"Did you remember the defibrillator battery?" Kel asked Roy. 

"Yeah. I got it." replied Roy. "I pulled one out of the recharger we keep in
Cap's office."

Gage chattered, high speed.
"Ok.. I'm truly fascinated. Now what is this invention of Stoker and Kelly's, you 
guys? Some kind of splint?" Johnny said, pointing to the thick band of white 
canvas tarp encircling the Andy's chest. He could see the ends of it feeding 
into some kind of gray painted metal board and mechanism lying under the 
rescue doll that stretched from its head to its waistline.

"Not exactly, Johnny." grinned Kel. "Do you remember the old style
thumpers we used to use out in the field? You two did utilize one the very night
the paramedic program became officially ratified during that mudslide
mining tunnel incident." he said, plugging the bulky battery into a terminal
at the head.

"Yeah. I remember em." said Gage. "I remember I didn't like them too much
for all the damage they did to someone's sternum, all for the sake of automated
circulation. I can still hear the sound of crunching bones even to this day."
he grimaced.  

Brackett said nothing for a moment and pulled out a compression meter 
common to an electronic Resusci-Annie and plugged it into Roy and Johnny's
station manikin, right into the cable port. "Gimme thirty, Johnny. Do the best
CPR you can manage and I'll get a strip of it. I'm gonna show you something."

"Ok." Johnny shrugged, stepping up onto the gurney rungs. Roy opened the
doll's shirt and Gage started in after getting a landmark through the new
invented band. "Need ventilations?"

"Nope. Just those." Roy told him.

After a half minute of compressions, Johnny stepped back and waited for
Brackett to show him the paper strip he had made off the manikin. Feeling
cocky, Gage even folded his arms up with confidence, grinning. "Gonna
be in the green. Every one of them. Stoker was a good teacher."

"They are." Brackett said, looking up. "But, did you ever notice this line
on the graph paper?"

Frowning, Johnny looked. "Well what does that squiggle mean?"

"It's the line for intrathoracic pressure. And that solid, darker line above it
is the point where passive refilling of a heart starts to occur on any relaxation
period following a compression cycle. Do you see where your trace's
at?"

Johnny squinted. "Yeah.. it's.. it's somewhere around 12 millibars."

"That's right. On averaging. Now did you know that the passive pressure
inside someone's chest needs to reach 23 millibars in order to have
any blood return, at all, to the heart during CPR? That's what this solid
yellow line means on the second graph grid located below the one 
you're used to seeing." Brackett told him. 

The implication struck Johnny like a blow. "What? You mean I wasn't
doing a good enough job with my CPR just now?"

"You were according to the standards that we have in place
currently. You did the required fifty/fifty up and down depth ratios, the
required rate and position with only the usual consequences of 
a cracked rib or two." Kel said, crossing his arms together thoughtfully,
waiting for his point to sink in.

Roy was already smiling.

Gage looked confused. "But that means--" he began.

"That's right. Your patient was still nonperfused ineffectively despite
of everything you did." Brackett told him.

Johnny's mouth fell open in shock.

Roy leaned forward. "Johnny, haven't you ever wondered why we only
manage to save two percent of all our witnessed cardiac arrest 
cases whenever CPR's used?" he told his numb partner.

"Well, sort of. It was in the back of my mind. But to tell you the truth, I never
really gave that particular statistic much thought.." Gage said quietly.

Dr. Brackett frowned in agreement.
"That's because having such a low number's so incredibly depressing.
No one wants to think about it for very long. But your station fireman and 
station's engineer did." Dr. Brackett shared. "That's what this meeting's
all about." he said, throwing a hand over the bed. "Roy, would you
hook up that thumper next? Don't worry about the band. It won't
effect our readings. Sharon, would you help him set it into place. It'll
be good practice for you."

"Sure doctor." said Miss Walters. 

"Ok." said Dr. Brackett. "Now we'll run the same thirty compressions using
purely mechanical means with the thumper. Ready? Johnny, when it's
done, tell us what's on the strip below the compression depth telemetry."
Kel ordered.

Kel hit the start switch after setting up adult chest compression depth controls.

Soon, the trace was complete. 

"What does it say?" Dixie asked with curiosity, swinging away the piston arm
when the test interval was over.

Gage sighed, his new dismay apparent. "Hardly better than mine. Somewhere
around 15 millibars pressure."

"Umm hmm." nodded Kel. "And that's only because the machine delivers compressions
with absolutely perfect timing with no hesitations or different delivered depths to
the sternum."

"Well, how about changing the way we do CPR nowadays to something else?
Maybe thirty to two? Instead of five to one? That way maybe intrathoracic
pressure can build back up in the circulatory system over time." Roy suggested.

"Not enough time's being devoted in studies to examine that angle, Roy."
said Brackett sadly. "It may be thirty five years or so before anyone gets
frustrated enough with all the poor CPR save counts to actually re-examine 
and question the status quo because the people who matter are continual
suckers for established tradition and methodology. Especially in the firefighting 
and medical fields. There's bound to be tremendous resistance to ANY new 
CPR idea when that day does come."

"But that thumper still didn't do good enough.." Sharon whispered, 
just as stunned as Johnny as she saw that the readings had 
stayed the same dismal pressure as Johnny's hands on CPR. 

"You mean we've been thinking we've been successfully maintaining these 
CPR needy people all these years with manual CPR and by automated thumpers 
when actually we weren't doing them a d*mned bit of good?" Dixie rasped in shock.

"There've been no confirmed cases of a CPR turn around when it was used all by itself 
until a defibrillator could also be used to correct the heart conductivity problem." 
Kel answered. "Our CPR attempts do help... But only a little bit."

"I don't understand." said Johnny.

Brackett held up a hand. "What happens to someone's blood when they
exercise?"

Johnny was quick on that one."Carbon dioxide builds up and oxygen levels drop
as the body demands more to sustain itself. Breathing picks up and the heart rate
accelerates to meet increased need for metabolism."

"Exactly right. Now make that same person cardiac arrested and lying on
the ground. What's happening now?" Kel challenged.

Johnny, Sharon and Dixie looked blank.

Roy replied. "Nothing. Oxygen isn't being used up because there's
no circulation. Carbon dioxide isn't building up as fast as it could be
like it does with a person who's still breathing. Oxygen need at this point
isn't so critical. That's probably why the way we do CPR now seems to get 
enough oxygen to the brain to gain at least our current two percent survival 
rate with defibrillating capability."

"Precisely. At the moment of arrest, some of that still oxygenated blood
gets to the brain and then any subsequent movements of a person's
body helps minutely to get that last fully oxygenated heart's full sized 
volume where it belongs. But then, the heart gets emptied on the compressions 
and the super long pauses we take starting I.V.'s and intubating people 
drops off even that tiny bit of faint circulation to an arrested brain."

"And that's why the two percent.." Johnny said with stunned realization.

"Yes." said Brackett softly. "Now look at this.." he said, turning on a button
to a machine box attached to Kelly and Stoker's invented manikin board.

The canvas band began to shrink until it just snugged around the chest.
Then it began to regularly compress and release the whole ribcage; its
top, sides and all, like a hangman tightening a slip noose. Kel adjusted
it for the proper rate and for a single thirty compression sample cycle.

Gage nearly tore the paper strip printer out of the Annie reader getting
the third test result. "Oh.. " he peeped. "It's showing 30 millibars. That's
incredible!"

Sharon blinked and startled into a smile. "You mean the heart hypothetically
is refilling after every compression now?"

"Yep." said Brackett. "I was intrigued when Stoker and Kelly came to me
with this circumferential band compressing idea, but I honestly didn't know how
well their device would actually work, until today..." he said. "And quite
frankly. I'm very.....very pleased with what I'm seeing here."

Gage was stupified. "Wow, what about the force being delivered? Aren't
all of Andy's ribs getting pulverised right now?" he said, flipping on
the new board's power switch again to see a repeat demo.

"Nope." said Roy. "Put your hand under the band while it's working like
this."

Johnny looked at him askance. But finally did. "Hey. It doesn't hurt at all.
It only feels like a snug hug when it's bearing down pressure."

"That's because the band's got a larger surface area. Not just a tiny
piston's circle or the palms of somebody's hands on a sternum."
said Kel. "The lungs are also getting squeezed and released right along
with the heart."

Roy grinned. "So some breathing's also being done by this thing and
providing a slight bit of adequate carbon dioxide and oxygen exchange.." 
he told his partner.

"Do you realize what we've just seen here? This band machine's gonna
revolutionize the whole fire department, probably nation wide!" Johnny
gaped.

"I had a notion.." said Kel, his eyes very merry.

"Doc, we gotta test this out in the field. Roy, does this thing set up pretty
fast?" Gage wanted to know, getting into it eagerly.

"Yeah.. takes about as long as a thumper does." DeSoto replied.

Johnny's face brightened into an excited beaming, but then it fell
into dismay a second later. "Doc, what about ventilations? There's
no time for much chest rise here."

Brackett chuckled. "You're forgetting the lung squeezes. He's already
breathing somewhat. You won't need to ventilate anyone under this
band when it's active much at all. I'm speculating that only a six to eight 
times a minute assisted breath rate'll be needed on pure oxygen."

"We gotta test this some more.. See what it can do on a real person!"
Johnny said.

"I've already made those plans and got permission from the hospital
administration to try out our next step." said Brackett. "Sharon. Go 
get one of today's med student donor specimens from downstairs. I think 
they're still in the prep room, waiting for tomorrow's physiology lecture."

"The adult male?"

"Or the woman. Makes no difference. Anyone who's the best unchilled will
work for our purposes optimally."

"Right away, doctor."

Johnny ansed, pacing the tiny confidential room, rubbing his lips in barely
contained excitement. "Oh, Roy.. this is ...this is absolutely astounding. Do you
realize how much money could be generated for the sake of the fire department 
when folks'll start marketing this thing?!" He immediately checked himself. "Oh,
and.. for the hospital as well....heh." he amended.

"And also for our spreading paramedic program.." Dixie added in
wonderment.

The few minutes it took for Sharon to procure the cadaver seemed endless.
But then she came.

"Did you put a chux under her?" Dixie asked Sharon. 

"Yes, ma'am. I have fresh sheets, too. And suction if we need it." 
answered Walters.

"Ok.. Let's hook her up." said Brackett, opening the corpse's lab
hospital gown for her physical shift onto the invention's working metal 
board. It took only a short time for them to fit the new band into place.

Johnny had a thought. "How long has she been dead?"

"About twenty four hours. We'll still receive good data despite of all 
her degraded internal chemistry changes. We needed someone past the 
rigor mortis stage." Brackett nodded. "Ready? Roy, turn on the new unit 
and the paper tracer."

Roy did so.

Johnny's eyes bugged out. "Oh, my..she's.." And he automatically 
reached for the body's carotid artery before he stopped himself. 

"Regaining a good color?" grinned Brackett. "I knew she would.."

Dixie actually grabbed a fingernail and did a capillary refill check.
"I got some?" she asked incredulously.

"Yep." said Roy, checking the other hand. "And all this lividity's travelling."
DeSoto noticed. "See here on her stomach where we've touched her?"

"She's getting a pulse also. Down to the wrist." Brackett added, checking it.

Johnny was stunned utterly speechless. "Oh, boy. We gotta tell someone, 
doc. We gotta tell someone today about this whole thing." he muttered, 
falling into a seat next to the body's bed.  

"We've got a long way to go before we demonstrate anything, Johnny."
said Brackett. "What Firemens Stoker and Kelly have done here's a very
novel start but any device based on their idea created commercially's gonna 
be crazy expensive: a very high price tag per use factor just to gain EMS
a few more pink corpses in the field. And that my fine friends, will no doubt
be given a very, very low priority by any brainchild organizations because
their hands are already full regulating and promoting our still infant staged 
paramedic program."

Johnny was unbowed. "How much above the two percent you think we
might gain with this band device when it DOES get developed by the powers
that be for those folks who were witnessed arrests and receiving CPR?"

"High. Johnny. High." smiled Brackett. "I'm guessing around a thirty
percent save rate in conjuction with the usual cardiac arrest protocols."

Gage goggled.

Roy pushed the next happy thought. "Ok. So it'll take more than just
a few years to push anything more on this band thing. What are we 
all gonna call it when all the talking sessions DO begin in meetings
a decade or so down the road?"

The room erupted in thoughts. "Robobeat?" "Heart belt?" "Autopulse?"
suggested Johnny, Dixie and Sharon.

"I don't know." said Brackett, pleased, turning off the band's cycling motor.

They all watched as the woman's skin waxed once more into the original 
chalk and purpling pallor it had been when they began the test. 
"My guess is that the honor of naming anything will fall to the highest paying 
sponsor and developer. In any case, Stoker and Kelly will be well compensated 
eventually for their role in making this prototype for the county to see. The 
hospital can definitely keep Kelly and Stoker's machine safe here in storage 
until its final stage paperwork can be presented and pushed for the appropriate 
legislative and marketing levels when the time is ripe."

"Wow.." is all Johnny could dare himself to say. He was still shaking
in reaction at the profoundness of all of it.

Brackett set a comforting hand on Johnny's shoulder. "Would you
thank Chet and Michael personally for me for making two bands
for the machine. This second one we'll have to throw away."

"Sure.. sure doc. Heh. I'll tell them that. And a whole lot more, too.
I didn't know those two had it in them to do this kind of thing!" he
gasped incredulously.

Roy smiled. "Well, you know what they say about all the quiet types
and clowners of the world.."

"What do they say?" scowled Johnny, getting mad that his still
flying high enthusiasm was due to someone else's good idea
and tremendous luck.

"I'll leave that answer up to your infinite and ultimate wisdom, 
junior. Come on, let's help the doctor and nurses return this room 
back into working order. We can take Andy back out in his stokes the 
same way we got in." DeSoto sighed. 

"Oh, yeah? But then we've got a cake to get to share with
everybody here and at the station to celebrate. The chief's
gonna freak when he hears that this invention's actually gonna work."
Johnny crowed.

The two paramedics and the hospital staffers respectfully packaged
up the donor body for the return trip back to the morgue. They washed up, 
disinfected everything, and went on with their respective work shifts with
very light and happy hearts. 

The experience in the isolation room had utterly banished all signs of 
fatigue and stress in absolutely each and every one of them. 

---------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Photo:  Stoker Roy doing CPR in the station vehicle bay.

Photo:  Gage and Roy working with a CPR thumper in a cave in.

Photo:  Johnny, frank and happy, in a treatment room.

Photo:    Brackett, Roy and Johnny talk in treatment room.

Photo: Nurse Sharon Walters falling, Dixie Kel watching her.

Photo:   Headless CPR. Fireman joke photo.

Photo:  A heart compressing band device and short board.

Photo:  A heart machine control panel.

Animation:  A heart circumferential band compressing device at work.

**************************************************
From: "Cory Anda" <andacory@hotmail.com> 
Date: Thu Apr 27, 2006  6:04 pm 
Subject: End of Day..  

Dr. Brackett sighed two hours later as he finally reached
the cool, dark sanctuary of his private office. ::I'm through
for the night. Good riddance. Let the younger, fresher 
doctors play all the be-the-hero roles this morning. Dixie 
and I are gonna hide.:: he thought with a tired smile. 

He was barely settled in his chair with his feet up with both 
burning eyes buried deep beneath his leather jacketed 
arm, when the door flung open to admit a fast retreating Dixie 
McCall. 

"Kel! They're after me!" she said, slamming the door shut and
leaning with all of her weight against it. 

Dr. Brackett didn't even move. "Are you off the clock?"

"Yes. I punched out in the locker room, while begging a cigarette off
of Carol. But hers are all gone."

"Then you're Scot free. You can let go of the knob. The door 
locks now. Had it installed yesterday, right after an amorous 
druggie tried to get to know me a little bit better past just 
the usual doctor to patient relationship." 

Click! snapped the lock as Dixie turned it. The hurrying footsteps
that had followed her, wandered away finally, a few seconds later.

"Who were they?" Brackett asked, his voice muffled. 

"I'm not gonna tell you. You'll only get mad. Then you'll go out there
to fix their problem yourself and not get paid for it." Dixie explained. 
 
Kel sighed unhappily. He was the very picture of fatigue. 
But one hand snaked into a drawer and pulled out a pack of Menthol 
100s for Dixie. He gave them to her with a tattered book of matches 
without even stirring from his comfortable slumped pile in the chair or
opening his eyes.

Dixie chuckled low in her chest. "Thanks, Kel. But now that I've got em, I
think I'm way too tired to smoke. I just might black out on you if I even try." 
And she tossed them right back into the open desk drawer with a practiced 
flip. 

McCall exactly matched Kel's sag by sliding into the guest chair, 
opposite the desk from him. She slung her legs over the cushy 
orange arms as she slipped off her thick, tan, high heeled pumps. 
"Ooooh. This feels so good." she melted, letting her head fall over 
the seat's back. She began loosening the straight pins out of her 
bun to release her long, flowing frosted hair out of its constrictive 
style.

Both nurse and doctor let the sweet silence, now filling the room, 
stretch between them for long treasured moments. 

Then an unintentional thump on the wall from the hallway made Dixie 
jump. McCall flew up, startled, to her bare stocking feet. "Ahh!" She 
immediately winced with a tension headache. "You wouldn't happen to
have any morphine in that cigarette drawer, would you? Or a valium?"
she said, sitting down tightly, still holding her newly throbbing head.

Brackett opened his eyes, pulling his arm down. "You know the answer
to that one, Dixie. All pharmaceuticals must be regularly stored in the--"

"...in the locked cabinet at Emergency's front desk. Yes, I know. That was
just one hundred percent pure wishful thinking on my part. I'm trying to trick
my head into believing that I'm actually on the way home right now." and
she let out a small groan of pain.

Kel got up from his chair, smiling gently. He padded over to stand
behind her, in his own stocking feet, and he started to massage her still
knotted up and tensed shoulders and neck. "So, how are you coping 
without Carol as your second in command these days?"

"To tell you the truth, Kel, after today, I don't think I can take it any more."
she whimpered without any tears. "Our two mutual triage incidents today 
only proved to show just how much I've relied on her all of these years to 
help me out, in running the place. I just didn't realize how much I really 
needed her, until she was gone." Dixie said grumpily.

Kel chuckled softly. "Do you think Sharon's gonna be the right candidate to 
fill her shoes? She's come a long way from being that awkward, giggling candy 
striper, who always tripped over herself whenever things got a little busy."

"She's the one." Dixie sighed. "Of that I have no doubt."

"Oh? What made you finally come to that conclusion?"

"Because I see in her exactly the way I used to be." Dixie said, letting Kel
massage away the night's stressful memories. "She's a good nurse, and
she'll be an even better leader eventually. I think I've just forgotten how 
long it takes to shape a promising protege' for the assistant head nurse spot.
Carol picked it up instantly, probably because she spent so much time over
in..uh,..in ...Nam. Roy even ....r- remembers seeing ...her." McCall's words grew 
slower and slower as actual sleep started threatening to overtake her.

"Dixie?" he smiled. Dr. Brackett lingered a touch on the pulse at Dixie's neck.
"Are you still here?" he teased. 

"Barely.." she whispered, falling completely limp and pliable in both of his 
soothing, massaging palms. 

Kel kissed the top of her head affectionately. "Believe it or not, I've got you 
calmed down now. You're below seventy." he said, letting her go with a last 
shoulder squeeze. "So, you wanna just hang out and watch nonexistent cobwebs 
grow here at the hospital? Or are you ready for us to begin our late evening/early 
morning time out at the Green Pagoda?"

"Food. Now. Please." she said, letting him put her shoes back on. "There's
no debate. Not any more. My nicotine shot nerves can just go straight to--"

"I promise you fried wantons in fifteen minutes." Kel grinned, helping her
back onto her sore feet as he opened the office door to the loud 
distinctive sounds of a still very busy waiting room.

"When I get my brain and blood sugar back, I wanna get excited all over
again about that resuscitation device Station 51 cooked up, ok? So start preparing
your skin shivery lecture all over again. I still can't believe what can and might 
happen with that device of theirs soon. But honestly? Your voice's about all I 
have the energy for right now."

"I'll change dinner to egg drop soup and green tea. That way you won't have to 
chew anything." Dr. Brackett promised her as they walked out of the emergency 
doors to the parking lot and paced slowly for Kel's dark green sports car.

"Perfect." she sighed, linking her arm into his. "I wanna be soup, too, in 
your hot tub."

"Already arranged, hon. I had the landlady fire it up ten minutes ago."

"You're such a good friend." Dixie burbled sleepily, almost weepy with
tiredness. She leaned her head heavily on his arm and let him support her.

"You're not so bad yourself as one, either. I like fussing over you, Dixie.
Haven't you learned that by now?" he told her."You always make my 
day." he said, opening the passenger door for her. "No matter how bad
it gets."

Both of them smiled when they saw that the sun had already started rising 
for the new day. 

::Thank God, it's Monday.:: McCall thought, buckling in. :: At last.
Now we can both just collapse, and rest for a good.. lonnggg while.::

--------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
The kitchen at Station 51, was a hot bed of activity. Chet's
mouth was still gaping open over the sight of the rescue squad 
decorated cake that Roy and Johnny had picked up on their way 
back to base from their latest non-transportation call.  Stoker was 
handling it a little better, and like Kelly, he was still grinning like 
a banshee.

"Tell me that again, Gage. Our machine.. It really worked?" asked Kelly.

"Yep. Like a charm." replied Roy. "The cadaver was dead a day and your
band machine still started moving every single solitary drop of blood in her."

"You mean if she'd been alive, it would have saved her?" asked Chet.

"Dr. Brackett seems to think so. Well enough for all practical intent 
and purposes." Roy nodded.

Stoker's eyes bugged out, still tickled pink, and he smacked Chet's
arm in celebration. "How about that, Chet? We actually did it!"

Gage winked at them. "Even I was impressed." he said.
 
"Well, that's not saying anything." remarked Chet. "It doesn't take that
much to ever impress you, Gage. You're such a simpleton." the 
fireman teased with a straight face.

"Yeah.. but I'm such a smart one." Johnny fired back with no sting. "Smart
enough to do you a favor by getting Brackett and the hospital
administrators to appraise your machine. Aren't Roy and I gonna get 
some thanks for doing it?"

"Thanks, guys." said Stoker. "And I mean that."

"You're welcome, Stoker. Thanks for the experience." Johnny smiled,
but then he glared at Chet, full guns. "I've never seen anything the like 
of it before. Not since the birth of plastic bagged D5W."

Kelly just chewed his piece of cake, and grinned. "Hmmph.. Like he 
said.." he mumbled, jerking a thumb at Stoker, spraying crumbs out of
his mouth and all over the floor.

Bonnie began immediate cleanup detail around his feet.

Johnny had to be content with not hearing two certain little words from
his cohort. But on this morning of all mornings, it didn't really seem
to bother him all that much for once.

Cap was just about to comment on how kid-cute-ly the cake had 
been decorated, when the intercom tones went off. 

It was for..

-------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Photo:  Close up of a congrats cake with a rescue squad decoration. 

Photo: Brackett hugging Dixie affectionately. 

Photo: Gage sulking around Chet.  

Photo: Stoker throwing on his overcoat at a tones call.

**************************************************
From: Patti or Jeff or Cassidy <theaterhost@voyagerliveaction.com> 
Date: Sat Apr 29, 2006  6:40 pm 
Subject: Trial by Error 

...one of the most dreaded calls a fire department could
ever hear come into their station.

##Station 51, Station 9, Truck 127, Battalion 1. Foam 110,
Station 24. Gas leak at an elementary school. 2780 N. Nellis Blvd.
2780 N. Nellis Blvd. Cross street Arroyo Grande Boulevard. The
gas company is reported as having arrived on scene. Time 
out : 0659.##

"10-4. Station 51. KMG 365..." said Cap into the reply radio set into
the wall next to the large map of Los Angeles County. Stoker didn't
have to trace their route this time. He and the rest of the gang
already knew the way.

"Roy!" Gage shouted. "Is that the school both of your kids are going to?"

"No. They're in another district." DeSoto sighed, rushing into his smoke
scented turnout with a speed only a father could accomplish. "Don't
tell me we're dealing with M&M Construction again. I thought OSHA
shut them down for good last week." he said, waiting for the bay
doors to rise high enough to admit them outside. He made his
immediate right turn in the squad, squealing a few tires.

Behind them, Cap pretended that he didn't notice when the Ward
did the same thing, lurching into the fast lane at slightly higher
than normal speed. 

Inside the engine cab, Stoker was grumbling. "It's gotta be those construction
crews again. That school's in their territory, Cap. I know the court ordered
them to check ahead of time to get the location of any gas lines
and display that proof on site before they started any wash grading, but
I'm getting one of my little feelings again."

Chet smacked a gloved hand against both of their red leathered driving
seats. "Stoker, now cut that out. Don't you know that all six of us are in really 
good moods this morning for once? Now we don't need your natural born 
precognating juju firing up so soon to spoil it."

Marco rubbed his tense face, frowning. He tightened his helmet's
chin strap with a nervous grip. "I don't think he's worried about just
his own head firing up, Chet." he commented ominously. "That
neighborhood's got houses that're really closely packed together."

"How could I forget that, pal? We've shown up for every mock
evacuation drill that school conducted every spring and fall for
the last past five years." snapped Kelly.

Hank held up two hands around his seatbelt to get his men to
calm down a little bit. "Hush, you two. Let's not count all our possible 
disasters scenarios before they happen, ok? I for one, am gonna remain
strictly optimistic. The wind's not blowing all that bad for us yet." he
said, sniffing appreciably at the dew damp sunlit dawn blowing
into the cab.

"Wait'll the sun gets a little higher..." murmured Chet, settling into his seat
glumly as he watched the scenery pass in jerky movements by his window.

Unpleasantly overhearing, Stoker upp'ed their siren volume and pushed 
the safety envelope between them and the speeding rescue squad, letting
Roy and Johnny know his change with a few blasts on the airhorn.

Squad 51 needed no urging. She leaped ahead, crisscrossing over
whole driving lanes as she tracked the shortest possible route through
the traffic lights.

------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

"Oh, nuts! It IS them.." Cap spat as Stoker brought the engine to a halt
the customary two hundred feet away from a danger spot. A backhoe
loader surrounded by bright flourescent orange cones was being eerily lit 
by a roaring plume of invisible natural gas, dust and metallic debris, shooting
high into the sky. He sent Marco, and Chet out of the engine to snag out
all six of their scba bottles and spares from the squad.

Hank rolled up his cab side window.
"Stoker. Stay in the engine. We're gonna sweep this block with an 
evacuation order. Looks like the PD's not here yet to do it themselves." 

The tight lipped engineer nodded, already turning the huge pumper in
a large U'ie in the middle of the road and back towards the downwind 
direction of houses they had just passed.

Already, the mercaptan indicator odor was reaching near choking levels, 
even in the open air. "They must've hit a 16 inch line or greater this time. 
I'm seeing the glint of coal tar enamel coating that pipeline." he said, looking
through a small set of binoculars."That's got to be at least a 300-pound 
pressure line that's been severed or I've missed my guess." he told his men
with dismay when E-51 had reached her final mid-block position, cock-eyed
at an angle to block off curious motorists.

Stanley grabbed for the radio cab mic and keyed it up. ## #This is the Los
Angeles County Fire Department declaring an evacuation emergency! Leave 
your homes and classrooms immediately! Move on a route heading north towards
 21st Street and Main in the direction of the high school. Do not stop to open any 
windows and do NOT under any circumstances, turn any appliances, or
lights, on or off. Take all ringer phones off their hooks.# ## he added, thinking
about electrical sparking and the sheer volume of frantic parent phone calls
that would come once the newstrucks starting airing the school's escalating 
incident. 

Hank finished his initial recording into the dash tape recorder and looped it 
into the Ward's P.A. on continuous playback. Then he leaped out of the 
idling cab to accept the tank an air masked Chet already held out for him. 
Cap coughed away the rotten egg smell stinging his nostrils, retreating
quickly into the cool sanctuary of his flowing faceplate.

From the corner of his eye, he could see Station 9 gearing up and reporting their
situation to Headquarters and to the white helmeted chief just getting out
of his cherry red Chevy. Cap didn't waste any time contributing his own input.

Building evacuation was automatically specified in the manual as his station's 
first course of action due to the intense explosion risks now running.  

And Hank was truly worried about the clouds threatening to overcast them. 
He knew the wind would soon pick up then in the canyon and start to blow 
the escaping gas, both from the severed massive pipeline and venting of the 
existing line's contents, out of the surrounding homes and school's gas flame 
interrupted water heaters and furnaces. ::If any air at all snuffed out pilots lights,
we could be in for a potential multiple-ignition-point fire four blocks wide. And
all it takes for that to happen is one careless cigarette smoker, lighting up.:: 
he qualmed.

It was only a matter of time before the rest of the stinking cloud carried into other 
buildings by gaps around their outer doors and through the fresh-air intakes on their 
roof-top HVAC units. Thankfully, Hank was peripherally aware of police 
and the other assigned fire units conducting rapid traffic control in a very confused 
intersection down the block from the gas leak's volcano-ing excavation site. 
He could vaguely see streams of escaping children being helped away by 
bright vested adult crossing guards and by the police. Stanley knew that it was 
progressing well because there were few sounds of startled screams
cutting through the hissing sound of the rupture belching violently in the ground.

Stanley formatted his evacuation plan out loud.
"Marco, you're with me. We'll check all the houses on the east end of this 
block. Roy, Johnny cover the west side.... We're all gonna get people 
out and look for possible casualties. These fumes are getting real bad. Fast." 
he shouted, his voice muffled by his air mask. 
"Search and move together within visual eyesight of each other. 
And gang. Listen to me closely. Shut your radioes off and keep them 
that way. The gas pressure inside of any room will be very low, less 
than 1/2 of a pound per square inch, but spark risks are still very much there.
We do have some margin of safety working for us. Natural gas 
requires a very precise air-to-fuel ratio to allow for any kind of combustion. 
You'll know when you're in a trouble spot because the smell of it
will become unbearably strong just before the atmosphere becomes 
explosive. People you find in these areas will be very, very sick. 
Recover them as quickly as possible and get out of there. Don't
even stop for a pulse check. There's no time. Is that understood?"

All of Stanley's firemen nodded.

"Don't use your hand helds until you know you're back out in 
very, very clear air and use them only if you have to. Get everybody 
out into the street so they can be evacuated and treated.
I'll be watching out for all of ya with constantly updated reports on the leak's
repair from the gas company." he said. "Once we're declared population 
clear, go back over your territory and locate all the meter shut-off valves. 

For this neighborhood, it's usually the first fitting on the gas supply pipe 
coming out of the ground near the mint green colored meters round the side 
of each house. Give a long-handled wrench one-quarter turn in either direction 
on the valves so that all levers are crosswise to your pipe to reach 'off'.  
And shut off all stop valves labelled "WOG" behind appliances as you find 
them."

"At least, there's no ignition or explosion yet, Cap." Roy told him, eyeing up the
shortest routes that he and his partner would take across the house lawns to 
reinforce the loud, recycling evacuation announcement.

"Believe me, I'm Hail Mary-ing that blessing this morning with the best of em."
Cap smirked briefly. "Go. We'll start PPVing classrooms and houses only when
the leak's been contained and repairs have begun." Cap said. "If you've
finished up your houses, go help pull kids out of the school windows. Looks
like they're jamming up the fire doors."

Kelly jogged up. "Cap, we've got a few owners who want to go back in to
get their pets out."

"Where?" asked Hank.

He turned around in place with one eye on his two departing coworker 
pairs and the other he put into the direction Chet was pointing. 

"At the Promontory Point Apartments over there. Those ugly peach 
adobe ones located behind the school." Kelly told him.

"Too close. Signal the police to tell them 'no' any way they'll take it."
Kelly started to jog away when Cap snagged the back of his air tank,
and hauled him back around using his greater size.
"Ah, ah ah. Tell them from here with a hand gesture because I need 
you to set up every on-scene truck's medical gear, strong on respiratory 
equipment. And grab out all our own oxygen supplies." Stanley told him. 
"We as L.A. County have far more than the non-paramedic stations do. 
So offer our extras up to any firemen showing up with victims."

"Right, Cap..." said Kelly running to the squad and engine to break out
their stokes stretcher stores and oxygen apparatuses. He gingerly set 
metal cases and basket beds down on top of asbetos tarps to prevent 
any chance of an errant pavement spark happening inside a sudden 
tendril of migrating invisible gas.

----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Roy and Johnny began to run for their nearest house, keeping pace with 
Marco and Hank's progress on the opposite side of the street. They
widely circled around the violently hissing pipe hole in the center island's 
machine graded ditch.

DeSoto tapped his partner's shoulder when they reached the first porch.
"You know,  Any air in that pipe line could allow an explosion if a malfunction 
in an appliance allows its flame to flash back upstream. They're gonna have
to seriously purge that big line once they get it shut off..." 

Johnny nodded. "Air definitely does not belong in a gas line. But I can think of
a worse situation for us to be in. Remember the last gas call involving 
M & M when they were accidentally flushing the water mains last year
using their utility truck?"

"Yeah, I remember. They backpumped pure gas into everybody's toilets
and garden hoses for not knowing a hydrant's normal water pressure. It's
a wonder nobody was killed during that stunt." Roy gasped as they 
approached a front door.

The two paramedics didn't bother to knock. They just entered. By any 
movement-quiet means possible. 

"Hey! Is anybody in here?! Fire Department! You gotta get out now. Pipe leak!"
they shouted.

A sleepy young mother with her baby staggered out of a bedroom. "What?!"
Then she started coughing when the sour rotten egg of gas sidled into
her open front door. "Oh, no.**choke*"

Gage immediately covered the baby's face with an offered 
air mask and showed the mother out to the safety of the cluster of light 
flashing fire engines. He choked a few times on the room's gas stench but 
soon, he was back at Roy's side breathing tanked air. "Any more?" he 
asked as he saw Roy leaving the mother's back rooms. "No. The rest 
of the house's empty.." DeSoto whistled through his steaming face plate.

"Ok, let's mark this one's main door with a search sticker and move to 
the next house..." Johnny said, smacking one onto the front door and 
leaving it conspicuously ajar. As they were leaving for the neighbor's,
along the way, Gage overturned a few lawn chairs to clue in other firefighters 
as to the first house's completed victim search status.

Seven minutes later, there was only one house left to check. The one
immediately in a direct downwind coming from the rupture. 

Kelly had taken to following Roy and Johnny along the curb with demand 
valve cases, staying available for them and offering keen observations
for them from the street. He shouted. "There's somebody home over
there. A jacuzzi's still on, with a pair of men's shoes around it."

Johnny and Roy ran inside the house, tanks clattering. "Check that out, 
Chet, for anybody blacked and drowning. The fumes are getting really 
bad over here." Roy said, seeing a couple of dead sparrows on the grass.

Kelly dropped his two oyxgen cases to the grass and ran to the house's 
deck. He grabbed a bird feeder pole out of the ground and used it as a 
probe, sweeping it from side to side in the steam bubbling tub's water.
"It's clear..." he told DeSoto and Gage as they disappeared inside the
dwelling.

"Ok, we'll be right back!" Johnny shouted to him.  

Roy did a double take at the family name on the front door. "Did you 
see that?" he asked his partner.

"H--?" Johnny blinked. "I'll check in here, you check down the hallway." 
Gage said distractedly, looking towards the pine tree shadowed living 
room.
 
DeSoto wasn't to be denied giving news."Johnny the welcome sign said 
Brackett!  Doesn't he live out this way?" Roy hesitated.

"Oh, sh*t.. Uh.... Maybe.." Johnny gasped through his mask. "But doesn't he 
work today?"

"Nah.. it's his weekend. He's still gotta be here. There's a car in the driveway."
Roy shouted back. 

A few tense searching seconds later Gage yelled, pulling Roy away from his
own room searching.  "Got him...!" Johnny said quickly, seeing a pajama 
tangled form in a blanket on the couch. 

A TV set was still on and ironically, it was covering the gas leak
incident on the news. 

"Hey,.. Dr. Brackett?!...Can you hear me?.." he shouted, bending
close and shaking a shoulder. But Kel didn't move. "He's unconscious, 
Roy."

"Let's get him outta here..." said DeSoto, grabbing his legs. 

Johnny got a hold of Brackett's head and armpits and soon, they 
had him outside.

Chet met them both running, and he helped lower the pale doctor to
the asphalt. "Holy cow, isn't that---?"

"Yes, Chet. It's him. Just shut up and get out the resuscitator.
He's getting cyanotic." Gage grunted as he and Roy laid him
out onto his back and opened his shirt. All three firefighters
ditched their scba gear.

For the few moments it took Kelly to get things ready, Johnny 
did a breathing check after tilting a clear airway on the 
Rampart doctor. Gage froze, listening and feeling intently. 
"He's not breathing.." he told them. 

To save time, Johnny gave Kel two hurried, light breaths, mouth 
to mouth, to see if he could get a decent chest rise. He did. 
Then a quick gloveless grope at a cold sweating neck also 
proved fruitful. "He still has a strong carotid..." 

Roy and Chet sighed in relief at that finding.

"That was close.." Kelly whispered. "Always better half gone than
all gone..." Chet quickly took over Kel's care using the thumb trigger 
valve. "Ok, he's regaining good color, guys." he shared as Roy and 
Johnny caught their breaths and finished summoning help. 
"And there's a definite voluntary gasp. I think he's coming around 
a little already."

"Just keep helping him." Johnny directed. "He's not out of the 
woods yet. Gas suffocation's funny that way."

Johnny rose up on his knees to a greater height and horsewhistled, 
getting Cap's attention to get a couple of firefighters with a empty 
stokes on the fly so they could get their patient over to the rest of 
the medical gear and closer to a defibrillator.

Hank's face opened in shock at the sight of who they were working on.
"Kel Brackett? Is he all right?" He crouched down to be sure Chet 
was making the proper rate and volume of ventilations around
the doctor's own feeble attempts at weak breathing.

"He will be. We got to him in time. Nothing that a little epinephrine 
won't fix." Roy said. "His pulse's still real good."

"Where'd you find him?" Hank asked.

"On the living room couch."

"He a bachelor?" Cap asked, wondering.

"Yeah. He lives alone.." DeSoto replied, fully expecting the question.

"All right. Move him out, boys." ordered Cap to the firefighters he had
brought with him.

Before they got even halfway to Chet's cache of waiting medical equipment,
Brackett came to and began to struggle, almost worming his way out 
of the stokes he was being carried in. The firemen lowered him
to the street in a controlled drop before he could fall and hurt himself.

"Doc!  Doc! It's Johnny Gage. Take it easy. You're doing fine." Johnny
said, taking hold of a bleary eyed, now coughing Kel, by his shock
dampened shoulders. "Here. Breathe in more of this oxygen we're giving
ya. You weren't doing it so hot a moment ago..."

Kel twisted up and choked, turning red, as huge coughs finally cleared
the rest of his chest free of the burning smell of gas. Then he relaxed 
physically. But mentally, he was very agitated.

They all watched worriedly as he grabbed his T-shirt in a powerful grip.

"What's the matter?" Roy asked him. "Does your chest hurt?"

Kel took another breath of oxygen from the offering mask. Then he
began to fight it, actively pushing it away. "D-D-D-....." he
stuttered, shivering in a sweat chill. A firefighter covered him with
a yellow sheet, thinking that was his complaint.

Johnny leaned in closer, thinking he heard something different.
"What was that? Can you say that again?"

Brackett's face contorted.. "...dixie.." he moaned, wincing.

The paramedics misunderstood. "Dixie? Easy, doc. 
Yeah, don't worry. We'll call her just as soon as we've stabilized your 
vital s---" DeSoto started to say.

Kel caught his collar in a death grip. "Go..get her out! Came home
with me.." he whispered painfully as he tried to struggle to full 
awareness. Then he let go, his head falling to one side into a lapse
of returned breathing difficulty.

Chet's face paled. "Oh, ...no ..way...." Kelly gaped in disbelief, eyes
sliding back to the silent, white porched house.

Hank was iron. "Kelly. Go check it out with your air on. Check out the
bedrooms first. I'll take over here." Cap said, starting to ventilate 
Brackett once more when his chest failed to move well enough for him.

Chet ran.

---------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Kelly got into the house.

"Dixie!" he shouted. His breaths whistled loudly in his mask as
he quickly searched for a direction in which to head. Then he
saw a baby blue glow coming from the bathroom stabbing into the 
room that was its opposite. The new sun's dappling light was 
illuminating a fallen pillow on the carpeting. "Bet she's in there.." 
he mumbled to himself. "Probably knocked it down trying to
get out of the room."

He found Dixie sideways on the bed, nearly hidden by sheets. 
She was in a one piece swimsuit and still wearing rubber sandals. 

"Gone to sleep after hot tubbing it, huh? Well, getting gassed by
a neighbor isn't exactly what I call the nicest way to unwind. Not 
by a long shot." Chet told her coughing, half out form as he hauled 
her up and hung her face down into the perch between his air bottle 
and a turncoated shoulder.

Dixie groaned at the jarring disturbance.

"Easy, Dixie. I got you." Kelly said, making tracks for the front door.
"Just keep breathing.."
-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Twin sounds of demand valve ventilations punctuated the air
around the fire department broadcasts near the high school.

Roy and Johnny were just beginning to treat their current
and past bosses when a young student wandered up from the other 
kids still in the group awaiting buses that would take them safely back 
home for the day.

"Hey, are those people going to be ok?" asked the little girl
as she looked down as Stoker and Marco lightly aided the nurse
and doctor's shallow respirations.

DeSoto smiled as he adjusted an EKG reading on a yellow shock
sheet blanketed Dixie. "They sure will. All that escaping gas's 
just made them a little sleepy. Don't worry. Those oxygen masks 
will help them wake up from their naps in a couple minutes." he 
promised.

"Good." said the little girl, satisfied. "I'm glad. I didn't think there
was anything you guys couldn't do.." she told them matter of factly.

Hank started chuckling. "Huh, what a concept." Then he asked
the child. "Who put that thought in your head this morning, young 
miss?"

"My teacher." she replied, thoughtfully chewing on a ponytail.

The firemen looked polite and didn't comment on that 
further like nice little firefighters, while they quietly worked to 
ready Dixie and Kel for a code three transportation to Rampart.

The happy girl shared more. "Didn't you know? You're 
famous. That day we played together got on the news. And 
today, my teacher says the reporters are all calling your Station 
51, the house of the Water Day Saints on TV." she 
said proudly.

"Well, how about that gang?" Stanley grinned. "Tops
even that cake we still have sitting out, getting stale, 
in the kitchen." 

 
FIN

Water Day Saints, Episode Thirty Two
Emergency Theater Live
 

------------------------------------------------------------------

Photos: None.

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

            
                            End Credits --  Episode Thirty Two (Fifth Season)
                                      
                                              §§   Water Day Saints   §§


             :)    This episode is dedicated to LaDonna, who died too soon and touched  :)
             :)    everyone who knew her with her dignified poise, gentleness, and charm. :)     
                                                                                                                                                                  
************************************************** 

The Story Unfolds...

Season Five, Episode Thirty Three.
 
 §§ California Dreamin'  §§
 
Debut Launch: May 1st, 2006. 

**************************************************
From: "Roxy Dee" <laterrapincabesa@hotmail.com> 
Date: Wed May 3, 2006  5:11 pm 
Subject: The Wall Crawling Remedy~~ 


It was a slow afternoon at Station 51. 

The whole gang had long ago given up newpapers and 
checkerboards and were falling into round two of aimless television 
watching and taking catnaps whereever they happened to be sprawled 
around the rec room.

The only three people showing signs of active animation were Johnny,
Roy and Chet. The tinny volume from the station's cheap television 
set held them rivetted, nonetheless. 

"Would you look at that?!" Gage exclaimed in exasperation at the 
current news story. "People are just nuts these days, I'm telling ya." 
he said throwing a careless hand at the television screen.

A news broadcast was showing footage after footage of people waiting in
line at the gas pumps to fill their trucks and automobiles at filling stations
across the nation. 

"Now that is just plain craziness.. We're not out of gas yet, so why the 
ridiculously high prices?" Johnny wanted to know.

"Aw, Gage. Don't you know how politicians work these days? They're probably
taking hand offs from all the big oil companies to look the other way. And while 
that's going on, it's the average guys like us who have to own up to their tabs 
by paying them out through our gas tanks." Chet summed up.

"I don't know.." said Roy thoughtfully as he crunched a carrot from a plateful of
cut veggies and dip. "They say this is a true energy crisis going on because
of the oil embargo overseas. I'm not so sure this is just gas gouging."
Desoto frowned. "It'll probably blow over in a couple of weeks."

"Easy for you to say.." said Johnny with exasperation as he sat up to steal a 
peanut buttered celery stalk from Roy's snack table. "You've got just 
a tiny sports convertible to worry about."

"Hey.." protested Roy. "Go get your own!" when he missed grabbing Gage's
stealing hand.

Johnny ignored him, chewing happily. "You guys don't own a gas hog like I do. 
My rover costs me twelve whole dollars to fill sometimes."

Chet just leaned back in his kitchen chair turned cock-eyed toward the TV and 
stretched."Yeah, well that's what we monkeys get for digging in the dirt and 
depending ourselves and most of our machines on a fossilized mineral 
slime. I say we deserve what we get."

"Oh, that's deep... that's really--" began Johnny with irritation.

"Would you guys keep it down a little?" asked a sleepy, booming voice 
from behind them. "Stoker and I are trying to get some shuteye in the 
bunkroom. We heard you guys commenting on things from the 
peanut gallery all the way over there.." grumbled Captain Stanley
loudly. He wasn't yawning.

Johnny was so startled that he started slipping over backwards 
from the two rear chair legs he was balancing on by the bookshelf. 

Hank had no sympathy for him when he finally lost the battle over
gravity and thunked over, bruising his tailbone. "Ow, d*mmit! Why did
you have to startle me like that?" Johnny fumed.

"I'll try harder to tip toe next time, just for you." said Cap disappearing
back into the garage, heading for his bed. "In the meantime, pipe down, 
ok?"

Kelly just smirked as he watched Roy get up to help Johnny right his chair
and himself from his undignified heap on the floor."Anything startles you, 
these days, Johnny. That's because you're always wound up like a top 
from drinking too much coffee."

The body on the couch laughed out loud. It was Marco.
"That much is pure fact."

DeSoto glared at Lopez. Then he looked down.
"You ok?" Roy asked his partner. "You didn't hit your head, did you?"

Gage nodded no. "I managed to keep my neck up."

Chet mocked with a newscaster sounding voice. "That hollow sound we all 
heard, folks, was just the skinny rack of bones Gage calls for a body coming 
to a complete stop." Then he took on normal tones. "Should be familiar 
enough to you by now, Roy. He always gets into mishaps these days. At 
least once a week on the job by my reckoning."

"Very funny. I'm not going to even dignify that with a comment." Johnny said,
rubbing his rear. 

"It's true.." insisted Chet. "We can always give Rampart a call and get the
official tally to see if I'm right."

"Oh, why don't you just shut up for once!"
Fed up, Johnny exited the room, moving to the equipment closet with alacrity
as he searched yet again for something worthwhile and productive to do.  He
ended up grabbing a still clean and full mop bucket and he started scrubbing
the floor in the corner by the front glass entryway door and Cap's office with 
angry sloshes and wringouts.

His amusement wiping away, Roy followed him out into the vehicle bay. 
"Wanna talk about it?" he said eventually, leaning up against the squad's 
bumper.

"No. Nothing to talk about." said Gage tersely.

Roy bit his lip. "Come on, Johnny. I know you better than that. What's your
problem? I'm a good listener, maybe I can figure something out for you..."

"Now that's it right there, pal. Why does everybody think they always have
the answers for me?!" Johnny said, splashing his mop back into the wash 
bucket so agressively that Boot ansed away from the spreading puddle he
was checking out with curiosity. "Sorry, Boot." snapped Johnny. Then he
continued. "If it's not suggestions on how to manage my love life, it's razzing
about how klutzy I am when things aren't actually my fault at all in the first 
place.."

Roy respectfully stayed quiet while Johnny ranted.

"That snake bite wasn't my fault, neither was that monkey virus or my broken
leg last year. The only incident I can recall that was entirely my mistake was
reaching into that car in the L.A. river bed and cutting my hand wide open.
That.. was my fault.." spattered Johnny. "I wasn't wearing my fire gloves."

DeSoto decided not to mention that soap foam was getting sprayed onto
his shoes and pants legs. "Don't let Kelly get the best of ya. Why don't you
always do what you normally do to defuse him and craft a joke or two to play
on him? You always get the best of him. Well, every time except for that
once when the Phantom wars were going on."

Johnny didn't even look up from his rapid, irritated floor scrubbing. "That's not 
even an option any more, Roy. Because, I'm sick and tired of stooping down 
to his level just to control him.."

Roy's eyes narrowed. "Are you sure you didn't hit your head earlier?"

"Oh, for Pete's sake." exasperated Johnny. "Now even you won't take me
literally anymore. Do me a favor.. Just go away."

"All right.." said Roy, getting stung. "I will. Enjoy your tantrum. 
I was just trying to help out. Geez.." DeSoto said, moving around the 
squad's front end to get to the equipment stow. He dragged out the 
defibrillator case and the biophone to do a telemetry check. He hooked 
up the antennae after he had the defib paddles charged on their metal 
test plate and made his call. "Rampart, this is Squad 51 for an afternoon 
Tetronix check, EKG and live paddles."

The two paramedics made it a production of not looking at each other.

Dixie's voice came over the line. ##Squad 51, we read you loud and clear.
We're set for your signal and shock.##

"Rampart, this'll be a lead II calibration, followed by a 100 watt shock!"
Roy yelled at her, slamming the phone down on the squad's roof to turn a dial.
Then he waited to hit the shock buttons.

##Squad 51, your strip's coming through as testing all channels. Go ahead.##
she told him, her puzzled tone at the anger in his voice apparent.

Sighing loudly, DeSoto placed the paddles on the test plate and fired them off.

##Cardioversion's registering properly, 51.## she said no nonsense to get
him to shape up mood wise without using other words.

"10-4, Rampart. Squad 51, over and out." Roy said softly apologetic to her.
Then he hung up the phone receiver back into its red metal case and latched
it shut.

Johnny paused in his furious mopping. "Leave those charged up for me, 
would ya? I'd like to use them on Chet's head.."

DeSoto made a face, and put the EKG and defibrillator cases away. He then
drew out the resuscitation apparatus and a clean rag from the stow. He turned
on the oxygen flow and tested the mask on himself at the middle liter delivery
rate. It was patent. Satisfied, he turned it off and wiped out the inside of the 
rubber face mask with a flourish. "Sounds like we all need a vacation.." he 
told Johnny with an angry mumble.

Gage glommed onto that idea eagerly, suddenly very unangry and excited.
"That's it. That's it right there.. I don't think any of us has gone on one 
since last Christmas, and it's what? Mid-May now?"

"Yep." said a confused Roy at Johnny's sudden about face mood change.
He added the drug box to his array of gear to check out on the floor.
He started to inventory their whole set of supplies against a check marked 
laminated card stuck with a magnet to the ceiling of the gear stow compartment. 
"Maybe we SHOULD just get away somehow. You know, re-bond with each 
other or something. It might do away with some of this wall climbing we've  
been doing lately."

"I wouldn't go so far as to say that any of us needs to do that, Roy. It's more 
like, needing to do another activity that's not so my-life-depends-on-you-to-do-
the-right-thing kind of thing." Johnny said, slowing down his mopping 
thoughtfully. 

It was the calmest Roy had seen him since he fell out of his chair.

DeSoto smacked his lips in agreement. "Ok, where can we go that's 
cheap enough so the gas prices won't kill us off?" DeSoto asked.

"I don't know.. Uh,..Up north for a little skiing?"

DeSoto shook his head. "Stoker, Cap and Marco hate the cold. That's 
why they moved to California."

"How about a little mountain fishing then?" Gage threw out.

"Nope. We've gone twice and have gotten saddled with medical
emergencies happening. And thoroughly stuck with saving all the locals.." 

"Oh, that's right. I'd forgotten." Then his face brightened. "I know.. why don't 
we all go to a hiking camp? We've never done that before."

"Where is there a park that's close?" DeSoto asked. "The nearest state park
I know of is in Santa Rosa County."

"We don't have to go far to find someplace really good, Roy. The place I'm
thinking of is only twenty two miles away." Johnny asked.

"Where's that?" asked DeSoto, scratching his chin.

Johnny pointed westward, out the open garage door. "Catalina Island, pal. 
Didn't the Catalina Island Conservancy finally buy up the whole interior to save 
it for posterity and all the wildlife?"

"Yeah, I think they did it last year. They're putting in another pier eventually."
Roy said.

"Then why don't we go there? It's close, wild, and as far away from 
firefighting as you can get."

"I don't know, Johnny. Does everybody even have camping equipment handy?"

"If they don't, we know we both do. We can share with em. And maybe we
can even get in some rented hang gliding time, too. All you need are a pair of
inexpensive permits to go inside Catalina so the Coast Guard knows 
that you're there. Dead easy to set up."

Roy looked skeptical at his partner, pausing in his count of paper sealed 
narcotic syringes. "I'm still not so sure that's the best idea." he said thoughtfully.

"Roy, why not go? We can go for just a couple of days. Let's set it up for 
the middle of next week. We all have that stretch off anyway for that firefighter
convention L.A. ended up cancelling on us." Gage said. "Boring time to get 
unintentional leave, for there's no live ball games set on the bill for then. There'll 
be nothing for anybody to do except sit at home and twiddle some thumbs."

::Spoken like a true bachelor..:: mused Roy. Then he spoke up again.
"Ok,..I'm in. I'll leave it up to you to approach the guys since going to the island 
was your idea. I'm gonna be there anyway, because Chris's gonna be touring 
with his grandpa by plane who's a pilot by trade." 

"Is he now?" Gage grinned with surprise.

"I've already been made to promise that I'll let those two fly around by 
themselves on all the fair weather days."

"What about Joanne and your youngest?" asked Johnny.  

"My daughter's not into that kind of thing. She'd rather stay home and be
domestic." DeSoto smiled. "And-and Joanne's simply content just being
with her, too, while she studies her english writing and takes ballet."

"Then it's settled. We're all going for an excursion into the great wild out of 
doors. It's gonna be fun, Roy. I just know it."

DeSoto returned a mildly excited grin. "I think you're right. I can't wait. Now the
guys'll finally be able to meet some of my family. Chris's sure growing up fast
these days."

----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
 
Photo: The gang watching tv all together.

Photo: Chet, Roy and Johnny by the TV and playing games.

Photo: Gage mopping the bay aggressively.

Photo:  Roy and Johnny checking the drug box in the bay.

Photo: Catalina Island and a ferry.

Photo: A rural beach on Catalina Island.

Photo: Cap listening to a rope tying Johnny and Chet.

**************************************************
From :  Cory Anda <andacory@hotmail.com> 
Sent :  Monday, May 22, 2006 11:26 PM 
Subject :  Turn About.. 

It was three hours later and Johnny was impressed that
the rest of the gang actually warmed to the idea of a
camping getaway. 

Chet had a few words on that matter. "I'll go as long as you
pay for my ferry, camping and hang glider fees. I'm strapped
for cash this week because of paying property taxes, remember?"

Gage scowled. "All right. Fine." he replied from where he
was regarding Boot with intense, feigned disinterested scrutiny.
"I'll pick up your part of the fees. Are you happy now?" he
said, without looking away from the shaggy, equally eye to
eye glaring station dog.

Kelly didn't answer him. Instead, he made a face. "What are 
you doing to him?" Chet asked about Johnny's studying an
increasingly emotional, uncomfortable Boot.

Gage rubbed his face with frowning irritation. "I'm trying to figure
out why Boot doesn't seem to like me."

Roy snorted around his sipping from a coffee mug. "Maybe that's
why he doesn't like ya."

Johnny ignored both his coworkers and reached out a hand
absently to stroke Boot's head.

The dog gave a short growl of warning as he immediately
leaped down off the kitchen chair he had been sitting on
and fled for another part of the station.

"See?" Gage scoffed, throwing a hand in the direction Boot
had departed.

Marco had some sympathy. "I don't know, Johnny. I've seen
you and Boot squaring off over nothing through three of
his station visits now and I still can't believe you two aren't
getting along."

Captain Stanley offered up his view. "Maybe you're just trying too 
hard with him, Gage. Try acting like you're his best friend. Spoil
him a little."

"I do. I do.." Johnny insisted, pouring himself a cup of coffee from
Roy's pot grumpily. "I bought him a bone from the butcher's last
week, didn't I? And what did he do? He buried it out in the yard 
out back and peed on it."

Kelly and Cap and Roy chuckled.

Stoker said. "Maybe he was saving it for later by marking his territory."

Lopez was a bundle of suggestions, too. "What do you expect, Johnny?
A bone's pretty slim pickings when you consider that he's probably used
to getting stuffed on beef fillets from the firefighters in all the other stations 
he goes to see on his neighborhood rounds."

Johnny refused to be appeased. "Maybe I should go in there right
now.." he said, jerking a thumb at the doorway leading to the apparatus
bay,.."and drag a rope around in an invitation to play."

"Good luck." coughed Hank. "You can't just pick and choose your friends, 
Johnny, and expect them to reciprocate. They have to pick you, too. It's
a two way street."

"Well in Boot's case. It's more like a dead end alley." sighed Johnny.

Roy looked up from his plate of nachos and smiled. "Why don't
you give Boot a little more time? I think he might be like a cat in 
this case. If you ignore him completely, he'll hate it and double over
backwards to become pals with you."

"You think so?" Gage asked, brightening.

"I know so." said Chet from the couch. "That's what worked for me."

"Chet, you don't know anything. I don't know why I should even listen
to y---" Gage mumbled through tight, angry lips.

The station tones went off.

##Station 51. Altered level reported on a man at the supermarket.
1719 South Caine. 1719 South Caine. Cross street Burnett. Time out :
9:56.## reported L.A. 

The whole gang leaped out of their seats and ran for their vehicles.

-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

On the way to the call, Gage rubbed his chin around his helmet's
strap. "Which kind of rescue call is worse, Roy? This one were going 
on right now? Or whenever we roll on a domestic disturbance?"

"It's hard to say." said DeSoto tracking the traffic around them as he
drove the squad through busy intersections. "More of a toss up. I guess
it depends on what the situation happens to be in the first place. If it's
just two newlyweds having their first dish throwing argument, I don't
ever have a problem with it. But if it's ever kids getting used as a 
punching bag..." he let his words trail off.

"Yeah." said Gage, sighing. "I'm hoping our man's just some bum for the 
drunk tank. I'm not in the mood for any excitement this morning."

Roy looked over at his partner. "Don't tell me Boot's starting to bother
you. Boot's just being.. well, Boot. Nothing to eat your stomach out over."

"That's easy for you to say. He lets you pet him." Gage glared.

A blast on the airhorn from the Ward LaFrance behind them made both
paramedics look into their sideview mirrors quickly.

"Huh.. I wonder what Cap wants." Johnny said as he got the hint to switch
over to their station's private truck to truck band. "Go ahead, Cap." he
said into the hand radio mic.

##I just got off the horn with L.A.P.D. They're gonna be delayed getting
to our call for at least five minutes. Looks like we're gonna be the
ones first in. They have a 211 in progress at the bank a mile down
the road.##

"Ok, Cap. Thanks for the heads up." replied Johnny and he switched
back to the station dispatching channel on the main frequency.
"So much for peaceful Sunday mornings." he grumped.

"Look on the bright side, Johnny. We're not working a useless junkyard
fire or anything." DeSoto grinned.

"Shhh.." Gage hissed. "Or you'll jinx us for real."

Roy lifted a puzzled face. "Now how does that work?" he whispered to 
himself as he gripped the steering wheel more tightly for a turn off the 
freeway.

Soon, they were there.

It wasn't hard spotting where to park the squad and engine. A grocery store
manager wearing a bright yellow produce apron was standing in the middle
of the widest part of the parking lot, surrounded by a couple of bag carrying
housewives, gossipping about some spectacle unfolding right in front of them.

Roy and Johnny pulled up into the middle of all of them while Stoker angled
the Ward to block off the avenue's entrance to give themselves working
room without a fresh crowd of cars being able to pull in.

A squat Asian man in a long oversized gray T-shirt and very baggy black demin 
pants was seated in a wheel chair, out in the open, flailing his feet and
arms like a palsy case. A pair of black sandals had been kicked off his bare
feet and lay on the pavement.

No one else seemed to want to go near him.

"Handicapped? Doesn't look like a seizure." puzzled Johnny as he and Roy 
got out of their light flashing squad to pull their medical gear.

DeSoto rushed ahead and crouched down by the man, locking the chair's
wheel brakes for safety to stop the man's aimless random spinning in the 
wheelchair. He lightly touched the man's still jerking, restless knee."Sir..?  I'm Roy 
DeSoto, a paramedic from the Los Angeles Fire Department. This is my partner, 
Johnny Gage. Can you understand me? What seems to be the problem here?" he
asked, sniffing breath coming from the man. 

The twenty something youth didn't seem to be able to focus on faces for very
long but Roy found no sign of alcohol on the wind. 

Their patient smiled.
"Hey.. whaz up? I...uh,..I..don't wanna cause.. I'm just trying to.. I..I.." he slurred.
He continued to writhe rhythmically in the seat, like an impaired invalid.

Captain Stanley, standing nearby, had removed his helmet. He cocked it
under an arm. "Want the O2?" he asked Roy.

DeSoto shook his head. "I don't think his confusion's new. Maybe a 
pre-existing condition. There doesn't appear to be any bruises on him." he
said, carefully studying the man. He fell into orientation questions. "Sir,..can you
tell me where you are?"

"I'm..I'm at the super-- supermarket.." he twitched, still smiling and gyrating 
his arms and legs slowly with dyskinesia.

Johnny wrapped a blood pressure cuff around the man's arm. "What day is
it?"

"Saturday.." he guessed wrong. 

Gage and Roy exchanged significant looks.

"And the time?" Roy said, taking the man's pulse.

"Three thirty... I.. look.. I wanted to get some pizza.. Is that a crime?" asked the
fuzzy man in mild cooperation. His smile wavered from blandness then back
to an absent grin, in wavering cycles.

Roy tried to get the man to focus on him visually with a penlight but he
couldn't seem to connect with him long enough to hold eye to eye contact. 
"Ok.. it's all right. We're here to help you out, mister. Just try to relax. Do 
you have any I.D on you? We're gonna need one for our report so we can 
treat you."

"S--Sure." said the small Asian man in the white baseball cap. "Here." he
fumbled into a front pants pocket for a nylon wallet. He couldn't grip it
too well, so Roy helped get it out so they could read it. "Victor Yang Lu
Ngyuen from 123 Hwy. 101 North in Escondido. There's also 
his birthdate. March 7th, 1955." he said, passing it off to Johnny who had 
completed an initial set of vitals.

Gage looked up. "Cap, could you ask around a bit on how he was found? 
Looks like he might be tripped out on something. There's no medical
alert info or any old prescriptions in his wallet."

"Sure thing, pal." said Hank.

The store manager soon piped up. "He came into one of the side entrances
of my store asking for a wheelchair, saying that his legs didn't work too well.
So one of the cashiers gave him one. He was doing fine fellas, shopping and
reaching down groceries ok. But then he started talking loudly to himself and
spinning around like a space case. Made a mess of my cereal aisle when he
dropped a jar of tomato paste. So we got him to pay, brought him out here, and
then we called both you guys and the cops.." said the manager mildly.

"You did the right thing. He's not himself." reassured Roy as he read the vital
signs Johnny had written down. "Thank you for calling. We got it from here.
Would you mind getting all these people to step back a little. The ambulance
is gonna have to have some room to get through here."

"Oh, sure.." said the manager and he began loudly herding up the curious 
housewives and other car parked folks drawn to the spectacle of a crew of 
firefighters ringed around a limb flailing man in a wheelchair. "Come on, folks. 
Go home or into the store. Nothing to see. Get outta here. Give the man some 
privacy ok? You're gawking like a gaggle of geese. Shoo.." he said, waving 
water wrinkled hands at them.

The crowd dispersed.

Cap got on his handy talkie. "L.A. this is Engine 51. We've one male victim 
in a parking lot possibly being effected by a controlled or illegal substance. 
Respond an ambulance to our location. Do you have an ETA on P.D. to our 
scene?"

##Engine 51, this is L.A...A squad unit reports three minutes. I have sent
an ambulance crew to your twenty. Their ETA is one minute.##

Cap looked up at the sound of approaching sirens. "10-4. Engine 51 out."

Mike Stoker moved the drug box nearer to Gage's knee. "Want me
to set up an I.V.?"

"Yeah. String up a 500 ml of normal saline in case the doctor orders some 
precautionary Narcan. Roy'll have his instructions in a few seconds." said
Johnny, watching as Roy hailed Rampart and gave his medical report to
Dr. Early.

DeSoto set the phone on his shoulder and nodded at the sight of the bag
Mike was tearing open with his teeth. "Yep. He wants it." Then he felt
the man's skin. "It's hot, dry. Early thinks he may be suffering crystal meth 
overdose precursors."

Gage sighed. "Not another one. I sure hope the cops bust that 
hidden neighborhood lab around here soon or those dealers are gonna
end up killing somebody for sure."

"Well, at least it's not gonna be him today.." said Roy, rubbing down a
place on the man's arm not already riddled with track mark scars and
shallow, self inflicted nail scratched pock marks.

The man continued to smile but didn't have the ability to hold still for
his I.V. start. It took both Marco and Mike to hold his arm down long 
enough for the running inserted catheter to be taped firmly to an arm 
board.

Gage took another B.P. once the light Naloxone dose and a little IM
Thiamine had been delivered. "Still up. 172 over 110. Pulse 130 and 
bounding.." he sighed. 

"Early wants a glucose stick to rule out hyperglycemia." Roy told him.

"I'll get it." said Johnny reaching into the drug box at his feet. He moved
aside long enough for the two newly arrived ambulance attendants to move
their gurney close to the wheel chair. "Wait a second while we draw some
blood for a glucose check. He's junked out, but cooperating." 

Both the men nodded. They concentrated on preparing the low bed's sheets
and blanket to receive their patient.

Roy read the strip on the glucometer once the blood drop had soaked through.
"Normal. He's at 100. At least he's been eating here. Right, Mr. Ngyuen?"

"Yeah.. yeah.. had some salad. Wanted some pizza.. Did I get any?" he
asked muzzily, still writhing restlessly in the wheelchair with slow jerks and 
starts. The smile returned, full and beaming.

Stoker had his hands full guarding the I.V. board which he held out in the
air in front of the man's chest. "Yeah, you did. Take it easy, sir. Soon, you'll be
at the hospital." he told him.

The man just grinned, his emotional reactions strangely child-like and at odds
with the rest of his shimmeying body. 

Soon, the man was stretched out onto the gurney and strapped in. Mike helped
lower the man's head down onto the pillow. "Did anybody grab his sandals?"

"Yeah, I put them back on his feet." said Marco. "I gave him his I.D., too.
His wallet's in his hand."

"Ok...  Roy, I'll ride in with him." Gage said, after he completed patching the 
man's four limb leads into the EKG monitor. "He's only sinus tach with slightly 
elevated T waves."

"You sure?" asked DeSoto.

"Yeah, he's not gonna fight." Johnny said. "Just look at him." he grinned.

The man was humming and completely off into a deeper lala land.

"Ok,.  I'll grab the squad." Roy said, retrieving his helmet off of the 
ground. He left for the truck to start its ignition.

Hank issued orders for Chet and Marco to clean up all the needle covers
and paper wrappers off the ground while Gage and the attendants 
blanketed the man and gathered the medical gear together. 
Then Stanley asked, "Are we done here, Johnny? If so, I'll put the
engine back into service."

"Yeah, we're done. Go on ahead, Cap. We'll be back at the station in
twenty."

"Ok. I'll tell L.A. and P.D. that you're going ahead with transporting."
said Cap. "Let's go, gang."  he nodded at Chet, and Marco when they
were through with their task. 

Hank, Kelly and Lopez climbed into the engine and shut the doors.

"Stay with him a sec, Mike? We're gonna put this stuff into the 
ambulance." Johnny asked Stoker.

Stoker nodded, crouching down by the nearly sleeping man's head 
to monitor his breathing. Soon he was quite alone with him. 

Then suddenly, it happened. 

Mike blinked and found himself face to face with the muzzle end 
of a steely blue black .38 mm revolver, pointed at his nose.

And the gun was firmly in the hands of loopy, grinning, 
tripped out Mr. Ngyuen. "Like my piece, mister? It's my ab- absolute
favorite. Just got it last week." he said proudly, still firmly lost
somewhere in his addiction high and wearing his kindergartner 
smile.

Stoker's heart stopped in his throat and he froze in panic.

He found he could only squeak.

----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Photo: Chet, Stoker scoff at table.

Photo: Gage and Boot nose to nose.

Photo: Squad rushing through parking lot.

Photo: Johnny and Roy with full gear in parking lot.

Photo: Man in a wheel chair.

Photo: johnny sees Mayfair go.

Photo: Gun aimed at you. 

Photo: Stoker with a shocked look, wearing helmet.

**************************************************
From :  Cassidy Meyers <killashandrarey@hotmail.com> 
Sent :  Thursday, May 25, 2006 7:07 PM 
Subject :  Blink of An Eye.. 

Time seemed to stand still for Mike Stoker. ::Move!:: he thought 
desperately from someplace very small and deep inside of his head. 
::That gun's right now and it's very, very real!:: Stoker struggled 
mentally through a thickening haze of tarry numbness and the 
most absolute, paralyzing fright that he had ever known.

Long, terrifying seconds etched themselves in time with perfect
clarity in his mind.....the glint of shiny bullets cocked in the unspun 
barrel as they caught and trapped his gaze....that idiot stupid, mild 
smile still plastered on the ill man's face...

::I'm gonna die.:: shivered Stoker. Mike blinked a couple of times, 
drawing in a ragged breath, trying to talk.

Then the gun was gone, concealed once more drunkenly 
under a neatly belted blanket fold. The Asian youth
actually yawned and folded two hands beneath his head.

Mike found his mouth had become icy and dry and he still couldn't 
speak at all when Johnny and the attendants returned to his side
to start wheeling away their patient.

::Do something!:: Mike's mind raged, but he felt utterly helpless.
There were still dozens of people in the area in close range of
the gurney. ::But what?! :: another part of himself demanded. 
::Somebody's gonna get shot if we try to restrain him. He might 
go superhuman on us if it's PCP he's on.::

His legs locked, Mike could only watch as the man was casually 
loaded up into the Mayfair ambulance by his coworkers.

Then he had it. A way out of everything. 

Stoker felt the snick of the stretcher wheels clicking inside as they mated 
into the floor locks through the skin of the ambulance under one of his 
sweaty hands. Then Mike took two steps to the rig's front bumper until he 
was sure that the driver could see him clearly, and then he collapsed to 
the ground onto his side, faced away from the truck, not moving. His 
helmet clattered away from him with a satisfying clunk and skid across 
the hot asphalt.

The driver startled, turning to the back. "Hey! Paramedic! Fireman
down!"

"What?" came Johnny's voice in the back. "I'll be right out!"

Mike heard the driver get out of the ambulance and felt him crouch down 
quickly near his head to roll him over for a listening check at his nose and 
mouth. Stoker reached up fast and grabbed him by the shoulders, making him
cry out. He muffled the man's face with his arm. "I'm ok. This was 
a ruse to get you out of the cab. Mac, get your partner to come out with 
Johnny! That man has a gun!" Then he laid down once more on the 
pavement, as limp as he could get himself, around his frantic state.

Mac lifted only one horrified glance back at the Mayfair as he started
shouting. "Get over here, the both of ya! He's quit breathing on me!"
yelled the burly attendant, playing along desperately. He set a pair 
of shaking hands on Mike's face, tilted it up, and pretended to begin 
a ventilation by bending over.

The shout and pose worked. Stan and Gage flew out of the rig with the 
defibrillator and a demand valve resuscitator, along with the biophone.

"Mike?" Johnny startled when he saw who was on the ground. 

Even as Stan and the paramedic got onto their knees over Stoker, Mac 
fled instantly for the back of the Mayfair. Seconds later, the older 
attendant quietly shut both of its rear doors with a reaching arm without 
raising his head to any window's level, locking them firmly closed. Then 
Mac crouch-ran in a zig zagging dodge for 51's moving fire engine, just 
pulling away from them in a maneuver meant to reopen traffic into the 
supermarket. He leaped onto the side runner board to try and flag her 
oblivious crew down. But the gang didn't hear him at all as the Ward started 
a lazy repositioning circle towards the far end of the parking lot. 

Mac was carried unknowingly away, unable to tell the firemen what was 
happening just behind them. Helplessly, he watched also, as Roy DeSoto
turn the squad onto the boulevard, on the start of his way to Rampart.

Stoker shot up off the ground when he finally felt two new pairs of hands on him.
His paralysis was gone, now fueled by fear for his companions. "The junkie's 
got a loaded gun in his pocket! Get into cover..now!" he told them and he 
instantly flipped over and started crawling on his hands and knees, making 
a hasty beeline for the closest row of parked cars in the lot surrounding them.

Gage and Stan hesitated for only a few seconds. "What the h--?!" Johnny blurted
throwing himself down onto his stomach to follow after Stoker. "Stan, grab the 
biophone with ya. I left my g*dd*mned HT in the ambulance.."

Soon, all three of them were under a tiny yellow Volkswagon bug, keeping in line 
of sight of the silent and shut Mayfair and all the medical gear lying 
open and abandoned near it. Already, another curious spectator crowd 
began to build.

"No..no..no.. Why don't they just go away?" Mike hissed.

Johnny was stunned, ignoring everybody but Stoker. "Mike, are you sure? 
How did you find out that he had one?"

Stoker let his head drop onto his forearms right where all of them lay on their
stomachs and he started trembling. "He pulled it out on me and pointed 
the revolver right at my face, Johnny. I was n-nose to nose with it. I'm 
more than sure." 

Gage eyed him without convincing comprehension. 

Mike lost his temper. "J*s*s Chr*st..Why don't you believe me? I was 
almost killed a minute ago!"

Gage started cursing. "F*ck*ng baggy clothes. I never knew. You know we 
can't hands on survey a fully conscious patient..." Johnny spat, rapidly
setting up the biophone. Then he got a good look at Stoker's complexion.
"Mike, are you feeling ok?"

"No.. I mean, yes." gasped Stoker. "Uh,...does wanting to throw up count?"

"Just stay down if you wanna black out. Stan'll watch you." Gage told
him. Then he started broadcasting. "Rampart, this is Squad 51! We've
a Code Yellow. Repeat, Code Yellow. I need a relay to our fire department
dispatcher in L.A. immediately! I've a 10-95. Repeat a 10-95 at our scene!"

Quickly, a base station listening Dixie McCall soon made the needed
connection about the same time a window pounding Mac got through to Cap 
Marco, and Chet in Ward's cab to tell them about the same situation. 

Rapidly, Marco pulled the engine back into a broadsided angle to give Gage,
Stoker, and Stan, the attendant, a clear route to safety behind its solid, 
protecting bulk. 

Then the whole gang and both the Mayfair attendants hunkered down against the 
engine to await the police who soon arrived in three squad cars, ordered in on 
silent reds, a minute later.

Mike closed his eyes firmly so he wouldn't see the outcome of any standoff 
as the cops closed in on the Mayfair with all their weapons bristling cautiously
into the air. ::Vince. Watch yourself out there. Don't get yourself killed.:: he wished
fervently.  

He never even felt Johnny slip gripping fingers around his wrist to monitor his 
post reaction. 

-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Photo:  A gun pointed right at you.

Photo:  A fireman down on the ground.

Photo:   Johnny crouched under cover in turnout.

Photo:   Engine 51, Squad 51 and cops from afar.

Photo:    Roy and Gage ducking by the squad with gear.

Photo:    Johnny and Vince approaching an open Mayfair.

Photo:  Stoker looking stunned in a close up.

***************************************************
From: "Monster Moofie" <monstermoof4me@comcast.net> 
and "Patti Keiper" <theaterhost@voyagerliveaction.com>
Subject: End and Beginning, The Debriefing
Date: Thu May 25, 2006  8:29 pm 


Roy had received the radio transmission about a weapon at
the supermarket. He returned there and parked in a safe spot
and fidgetted with worry while he awaited an outcome.

---------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Vince carefully opened the back of the Mayfair as he and 
another officer positioned themselves behind the doors.  Peering 
around he saw the junkie flopped out, sleeping it off.  A loud snore 
punctuated the silence.  Vince carefully entered the ambulance and 
patted the blankets, locating the .38.  Handing the gun off to the 
other officer, Vince pulled out his cuffs and quickly locked the 
man's wrist to the side of the gurney, repeating the steps with 
another pair of cuffs on the other side.  He then called out, "John, 
Roy, all clear!  He is cuffed and ready to go.  Officer Jackson will 
ride in with you."  Vince climbed out of the ambulance and was 
replaced by Jackson. 

Roy grabbed all the gear, climbed up in himself and checked the 
patient's vitals. He contacted Rampart, letting them know all was 
well and that they were on the way.

-----------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Johnny still had his fingers wrapped around Mike's wrist, monitoring 
his pulse.  As soon as Vince called out and exited the ambulance, 
Mike's pulse changed drastically, his face turning a sickly gray.  

Johnny felt him start to go and switched from gripping his wrist to 
placing his hands under his armpits, lowering him to the ground as 
he fell.  "Something tells me you're not faking it this time." 
Johnny said to the fading engineer.  Gage didn't find a pulse easily 
the second time, he found one only higher up in the crook of Mike's 
elbow. "Just relax. It's over. Everybody's safe now, thanks to you."

Cap, Marco and Chet quickly surrounded them, demanding to know what 
in the world was happening.   Recovering from shock, Captain Stanley 
quickly asked Johnny, "What gear do you need?" Cap looked down 
from the peek mirror he had cleverly angled towards the now un-beseiged 
ambulance. "How's Mike doing? The other guy's still quiet for now."
 
Chet grabbed a blanket out of the squad, opening it quickly and offering 
it to Johnny. Stoker started shivering again as he tried to nod that he
had heard them.

Gage smiled as he opened Mike's collar where he lay on the ground.
He studied the engineer while Stoker stared out at nothing in particular. 
"He's a little shocked, but ok, Cap."

"H*ll, I would be to if I'd been in his shoes." Hank replied.

"I was there once before, Cap. Remember Vince's concussion?" Gage 
asked.

"How could I forget that? You almost got your head blown clean.." Hank 
broke off, very sensitive about Stoker's possible feelings right then. 
"Ah, well. Now's not exactly the nicest time to talk about that particular 
little adventure." 

Removing the blue uniform jacket he was wearing, Johnny placed it 
under Mike's head as he answered, "Let's get his feet elevated.  
It's just psychogenic shock. He had that gun in his face."  
Grabbing the blanket from Chet he covered Mike with it.  

Chet kneeled down by Mike facing Johnny while Cap and Marco 
squatted down one on each side.  

Only about thirty seconds had passed before Mike's eyes fluttered 
back open.  He moaned. Then he rocketed up, turning away from Johnny. 
Vomiting, he spewed his recently ingested meal all over an unsuspecting 
Chet.  

Completely shocked, Chet could only sit and gape, mouth open.

Recognizing that Mike was pulling out of it, Johnny lightly 
quipped, "Well, Mike, looks like to me you caught the Phantom 
sleeping."  Turning serious again, he instructed, "Lie back down here 
while I check your vitals. I think you're fine but I know Dr. Brackett 
might want to see you."

Now completely embarrassed, Mike began to protest, only to be 
silenced by a stern, "Mike!" from his Captain.  Mike resumed his 
prone position and allowed Johnny to verify his recovering status.

Chet, meanwhile, hadn't said a word. He had merely risen, removed 
his uniform's outer jacket and grabbed a rag to clean himself up, 
leaving Mike to wonder what the conniving Phantom would do when 
things calmed down.

"Do you need another ambulance for him, Johnny?" Captain Stanley 
asked.  In spite of his paramedic's assurances, he was still extremely 
worried about his engineer.

"No, Cap.  He can ride in with you. His system just had a small
shock. I'm not worried now."  Giving Mike a hand up, he stepped 
back and allowed Cap and Marco to steer the embarrassed engineer to 
one of the passenger seats in the engine. "Mike, We'll check you out a little 
better once we all get back to the station. Let me know when that nausea 
starts to go away, ok?"

Cap was finally convinced. "Get Stoker into the engine as soon as the 
cops have all of the information they need from us and cover him up with 
our turnouts if you have to, to counteract his chilling symptoms. Johnny, 
I promise I'll get Chet to make him start talking about it on the way back 
to quarters. And I can put in a call for a CISM counselor to help him out if 
he still feels like it, once we get back there."

"Sounds like a plan." sighed Gage unhappily. He turned back to Mike
and kept his hands on his shoulders just to let him know that he was still there 
and that he was absolutely safe in his arms. "Easy, Stoker. We're all right 
here with ya."

Then Johnny picked up the HT and jumped in the squad where Roy 
used to be and drove off to Rampart after Roy's departing ambulance.

---------------------------------------------------------

Detective Lt. Ron Crockett waited patiently for Gage and DeSoto 
to finish a routine vital signs check on their station's engineer. Finally,
he couldn't hold his questions in any longer. "Now, let me get this straight.
None of you had a clue about this character having a weapon on him,
at all?"

Johnny got angry on Mike's behalf. "No, detective. We didn't have a clue. 
I'm telling you, this guy was totally happy we were there to help him out of 
his crazy predicament. Isn't that right, Mike?" he asked, pulling the blood 
pressure cuff off of Stoker's arm. "Roy, he's finally back to normal. 132/98."

"Same here. Pulse's 56." said Roy, then he spoke again. "Go eat something 
once we're done here, ok?" he told Mike no nonsense. "I'm sure Marco'll be 
pleased as punch if you stuff yourself to the gills on his mother's cooking. 
He's been wanting to do that to you ever since we got back here."

"I will." grinned Stoker shyly. "But I'm still mad at myself for not seeing the 
gun on that guy. I was right next to him."

Cap and the gang spoke up protectively in a rush once more about how they 
all had been duped when Vince Howard, the policeman, spoke loudly over them
from where he was butt perched on Cap's office desk. "Now, boys. Don't go 
blaming yourselves in the slightest for that kind of oversight. Police officers 
miss weapons that are located in a suspect's front pants pockets all the time. 
And sometimes, even after very thorough body searches have already 
been conducted. It didn't help that this junkie was looking like Fat Albert 
in clothes sizes five times too big for his body frame." said the easy going 
police officer.

Detective Crockett rubbed his chin thoughtfully. "What I'd like to know is why 
the paramedics didn't do a head to toe exam on the man once he was placed 
on the gurney." he wondered to Vince.

Cap sighed and leaned back in his chair. "We don't have the authority to do 
that typically, lieutenant. Not when someone's completely conscious and 
talking to us without signs of obvious injury..."

Roy spoke up. "We both agree with our captain there." DeSoto said
quickly, letting Crockett know about his and Johnny's viewpoint. "A 
routine medical call usually doesn't need us to go into that kind of 
detail since the patient can usually tell us what's going on verbally."

"And even if that kind of exam's needed, we still have to ask permission to 
do so every step of the way, like,..' Do you want some oxygen? Can I take your 
blood pressure?'" explained Johnny.

Police Detective Ron Crockett wasn't content.
"You mean you fellas decided on your own not to wait for the police for 
backup even though this guy was clearly altered mentally?" asked Detective 
Crockett sharply. "That was stupid. Doesn't your fire department policies 
state that at any time a patient displays incompetent faculties, a police 
officer should be on the scene to oversee things to assure safety measures 
are being taken in case the patient needs to be physically restrained?"

All the firemen in the fire station office shifted uncomfortably and then 
they got angry. Fast. 

They all started talking at once.

"Now wait just a gosh darned minute here!.." said Gage. "That would 
mean we'd have to call the cops for even the simplest fainting case."

"That's a little uncalled for.." said Roy. "Most of our patients are always 
half out. And those are just the non-trauma related ones."

Chet bristled. "We saved ourselves this morning just fine."

"Cap, did I do something wrong?" asked Stoker.

"No way in h*ll, Mike. You did everything absolutely by the book. If the 
fault's anyone's, all of us are guilty for missing the danger. Including the 
witnesses who called us out to help him in the first place." Hank growled.

Vince held up appeasing hands in defense of himself and his stern
faced African American supervisor. "Boys, boys. We're not playing the 
bad guys with this little meeting here all right? That was never our intent.
We're just trying to get a clearer understanding about what happened 
today so that maybe,.. just maybe, all of us can keep this from ever 
happening again."

Silence reigned in the office, except for Boot's anxious whining.

Mike Stoker picked him up and began petting him to quiet both his
stress reactions and the dog's. "Shhh, easy boy. We're just talking. 
I think.." he glared at the detective.

Crockett threw up his hands in exasperation with a huge frustrated 
sigh and placed both hands on his hips firmly. "Ok,..looks like we're 
gonna get nowhere with this informal inquiry. Howard, we're not helping 
here. Let's go hit the streets after filing their report and do something 
that'll make a real difference to someone else, huh?" he said 
sarcastically.  

Then Ron left the office in a huff, his brusk manner very apparent.

Vince Howard rubbed his hands together. "Sorry for that. We both 
spent a real unpleasant last couple of hours on this case. It doesn't make 
it any easier on any of us that my police coworker had to handcuff your 
patient's legs, too, after he woke up and freaked out for seeing us 
standing over him. His attending doctor just about chewed us up and 
spit us out for doing it."

Stoker looked away, putting a hand to his mouth, stifling powerful emotions.
"He became dangerous?"

"Yeah. And it didn't take much to provoke him." replied Howard.

Cap set a gentle hand on Mike's arm in support. "Are we done? All my men 
and I want to do is forget this whole incident for a while so we can get on 
with the rest of our workshift and start to begin to feel better about this whole 
horrid mess just as soon as we possibly can."

Vince rose. "You're absolutely right. Nothing else can be done here 
today. Any protocol changes in your department and mine regarding this 
kind of rescue call gone bad will have to be hashed out by higher paid 
administrators and other bureaucrats. I'm sorry I let Detective Crockett 
inflict himself on you the way he did. I had no choice in the matter. See you 
fellas, later." he said moving to the door. Then he turned back. 
"Mr. Stoker, if I can show you a few moves on how to disarm someone with 
a gun for later, give me a call." he said, handing Mike Stoker an L.A.P.D. 
business card. "It seems that requests for that kind of training's reaching 
me more and more from all you paramedics and firemen lately. It kinda 
makes me mad that no one ever asks me to do this until something really 
bad happens first."

"I'll definitely look you up for that lesson after we're back from our vacation." 
replied Mike with sincerity.

Vince actually smiled, as glad to change the subject as the fire gang was.
"Oh? Where are you fellas off to?"

"Santa Catalina.. We're all leaving Saturday for ten days camping and doing 
the usual touristy things people from the mainland normally do out there." 
chuckled Cap.

"Well, hug a Beechey's ground squirrel for me when you see one. They're 
real friendly on the island." waved Vince. "I had two of them who liked getting 
into my backpack all the time looking for food when I was on a hiking trip 
three years ago."

"I promise you we'll watch out for them." said Chet, waving back.
"No one's gonna steal a meal from me and get away with it."

"No, you'll only wear one on occasion." quipped Gage, sotto voce.
No one heard him at all then, and he smiled at his own humor.

Vince nodded, putting on his helmet and left the station.

Hank looked up when the side doorbell rang. "That'll be Gloria Schaefer 
from Headquarters, the CISM. Kelly, would you go let her in? We've all got 
lots to get out and talk with her about, isn't that right, Mike?"

Stoker sighed. "Let's get this thing over with." he said, rising. He had never 
been a fan of crisis debriefings. It meant admitting weaknesses. ::And no 
firefighter will ever show weakness to anyone. Not if he can help it.:: thought 
the engineer.

Gage and Roy patted him on the back in encouragement as they
all left for the coffee pot in the kitchen and the formal introductions soon 
to come between them and the crisis counselor.

---------------------------------------------------------

A few days later found the `A' shift finally on Catalina Island.

"I can't believe the time flew so fast!" Marco remarked.  "I really 
thought we were never going to get here!"

Several of the men laughed and nodded their agreement.

Roy spoke up, "It was really getting tough around the station.  I 
guess we just really needed a break from it all."

Johnny backed out of the tent he had just finished setting up and 
chimed in, "I'm sure glad we're here but I'm even happier 
the hang gliders worked out.  I'm really looking forward to 
learning how to soar through the sky."

The Phantom had remained quiet until this point, deep in plotting 
revenge on Mike.  He couldn't resist taking a jab at his favorite 
pigeon and taunted, "You know,.. it's just as well we're all here, Johnny.  
With your luck we'll end up having to rescue you and take you to 
Rampart while we're supposed to be on vacation.  Maybe with all of 
us, you'll manage to stay out of trouble."

Johnny gave Chet a glare, then uncharacteristically dropped the 
subject, instead grabbing his canteen, camera and backpack.  
Inspecting his backpack to be sure he had snacks, first aid supplies 
and a spare pair of socks, "I'm going to head up the west trail.  I 
want to get some pictures of the lake from the viewpoint."  
Whistling, he headed up the trail, Mike and Marco falling in behind 
him, leaving Chet open mouthed in shock.

Captain Stanley looked at the departing trio then he turned to Chet 
and said with a saucy grin, "Well, Chester B, you've been put in your 
place!  You're going to have to..."

---------------------------------------------------------

Photo:  Cap with helmeted gang in a group.

Photo: Gage in turnout by the squad crouching.
  
Photo: Detective Crockett side view. 

Photo:Johnny takes Stoker's BP.
 
Photo: Cap talking intently in his office.

Photo: Officer Vince Howard in a closeup. No helmet.  
 
Photo:  Gang in a meeting. 
 
Photo: Roy hugging Boot.

**************************************************
From :  Roxy Dee <laterrapincabesa@hotmail.com> 
Sent :  Friday, May 26, 2006 2:50 PM 
Subject : Catalina Charms~~ 


"...bite the bullet this trip and content yourself with being
just Plain Jane for while. They're onto ya." Hank winked.

Chet froze, where he was fussing with assembling his 
orange and white hang glider. "Oh, so you think that, huh.." he 
murmured blandly. "Well let me share something with ya, Cap.
There isn't a prankster born who can outfox me for long.  Yes,
Stoker christening my turnout jacket got past my guard
and defenses. That was only because his illness was real, Cap. 
A touch of the truth always catches people by surprise and yes, I 
fell for it. It wasn't like I hadn't been warned ahead 
of time that he was going to sick up real soon. Stoker was
cement slurry gray, sweaty, and to go along with those, were 
full blown shivers. It was my own fault that I chose to ignore those 
obvious nausea signs in favor of emotionally worrying about a 
pal of mine instead." he shrugged mildly.

Hank's mouth fell wide open. "Kelly, do my ears deceive
me? Are you admitting to having made an actual mistake? 
G*d, I wish the others were here to witness this." he crowed
delightfully.

"I'm here.." said Roy, poking his head out of Johnny's
tent. "And I heard every word he just said. Booga booga."
he said monotone, splaying lame spooky fingers at Chet
in mock jest.

"Oh, Roy. You don't count. You never gossip about someone's
failings. You're too d*mned honest for your own good." Chet
told him.

"Ixnay on the wearsay ordsway." DeSoto hissed through his
teeth, pointing at a mound pressing against the rainfly of his
tent as a flaxen haired head emerged into the daylight.

"I heard that.." said Chris DeSoto, his voice newly deepened
into a light baritone with growing puberty. "Yeah, Chet, nix the 
swear words. I still don't like em, even though my ears aren't
nearly so young any more these days." he said, crawling out 
of his father and Johnny's four man tent. 

Chet scoffed, mouthing an apology to Roy silently before
saying his next retort. "Ah, from the mouth of babes. Er, excuse
me, let me formulate a correction here.. At least from one with 
some very first time sprouting peach fuzz.." Kelly said affectionately, 
rubbing a few fingers under Chris's barely hair bristling chin.

"Aw, Chet. Cut that out. I'm thirteen. Dad says I'm finally a teenybopper.
And that's somewhere where I'm not a child anymore but not
quite an adult." said the blond haired Chris DeSoto.

"Then what are you...?" asked Chet in a spooky voice.

"Hungry. Who got the short end of the toothpick this morning and
earned first cooking of the chow? I'm still growing like a weed
here,.." Christ said, dragging out a first aid pack to inventory its
contents carefully. "And I'm feeling every growling roll of my
poor bile and acid filling stomach."

"Eeooow.." teased Chet, curling up into a look of disgust.
"Do sons of paramedics always become so gifted with the
more medically graphic turns of phrase. Yuck. You're spoiling
my appetite." 

"Oh, so I guess that means you're 'Cook' today, eh, Mr. Stanley?"
smiled the teenager, correctly guessing the one so stuck.

"Please, Chris. Call me Hank or Cap. Everybody else does."
said Stanley.

"All right. Guess I'm just used to being polite all the time.
Especially out in public." replied the junior DeSoto.

"I can fix that trait in a jiffy. Just start hanging out with me, kid."
said Chet.

Roy smacked Kelly's arm meaningfully. "Not in a million years.
He's going flying with his grandfather this morning, right after
stuffing some food into that fuzz growing face of his."

"Dad...." Chris frowned with a blush. "I did try to shave it all off
like you showed me."

"You're doing better. I'm not seeing any nicks I gotta treat on you 
this time." Roy teased. 

"Grandpa let me use his straight razor. It works a lot better than
those cheap plastic Schick things you like to use.." said Chris.

Roy cleared his throat self consciously, "Yeah, well, I'm
not a fan of antiques like your grandfather is, son. I 
happen to like a lot of speed and convenience for my dollar."

"Grandpa Ian says 'Waste not, want not.' " chimed the half teen,
crossing his eyes at DeSoto.

Roy made a face right back at his first born. "My way doesn't
need a whetting strip of cloth..."

"Yeah?" answered the teen in challenge. "Well, your way needs
a sink. Mine doesn't. A straight razor's perfect for camping."

"You got a point there. Guess I lose." sighed Roy.

Stanley choked down a snort of laughter. "Ian DeSoto? Where's
he off to? I didn't see him at all this morning after I got up."

"Oh, my dad? He usually gets up before the sun to putz with
his airplane. I think he took a shuttle to the landing strip at
first light." replied Roy with a shrug.

"Oh, then I'm late!" startled Chris, shooting to his sandled
feet. 

Roy grabbed his son by the arm. "Not so fast.. Is everything 
accounted for in the emergency jump bag?"

Chris was quick with his reply. "Everything but the oxygen key.
I think Uncle Johnny left that clipped on his backpack by mistake. 
I saw it hanging off a zipper tab last night."

"I'll get out a spare." planned Roy. He let go of Chris's soccer
shirt sleeve. "Ok, you can go. Mind your grandpa."

"Yes, dad."
Chris snatched up his handheld radio from the picnic table
along with a canteen and rain gear and started up the long dirt 
rutted trail leading up to the Airport in the Sky five miles up the 
mountainside. 

Cap called out after him. "Hey, what about breakfast time?"

The freckled boy who looked a lot like his firefighting father, grinned.
"Flying is flavoring, Mr. Stan-- uh, Captain. How can you feel hungry
looking at such a stunning sunrise as that, sir?" he asked, pointing
at the brilliant dawn spreading out over the ocean waters stretching
far below their pinetree strewn ranchland campsite. "There's not a 
single solitary speck of smog in the air. And I wanna absorb every 
second of it from deep inside a Cessna's cockpit at a thousand feet. 
Gotta go!" and with that, Chris was gone in a stirred up cloud of dust 
left behind by his running feet.

Cap chuckled at the same time as a coffee sipping Roy who tended
the black and white flecked western enamelized tin pot still simmering 
on the fire grill. "Now where is that crazy partner of yours dragging Lopez
and Stoker off to?" asked Cap. 

"Off to the 'lake.' Well, actually, it's more like a desert rock rain collection
pool in a cave system just over the hill. It's deep enough for swimming,..
And at the top of the gorge along the flat sand dunes--" Roy broke
off as Stanley got the picture and the idea.

"...it's great for learning how to hang glide using the land/sea breezes
sloping down to the beach. Outta sight." Hank said contently. "Say,
can you pour me a cup of that Folder's? Smells good." 

Kelly looked up from a finally completed glider assembly. "Let them 
swim first. I don't care. My butt's gonna be the first one in the air.. Last 
one to the cliff tops is a rotten fireboot!" he shouted, hefting up his finished
hang glider in a triumphant display.  He hooted all the way up Johnny's
trail catching up to the others who were heading for the slit in the 
cliffside which led to the swimming hole.  

"Bring your radio.." Hank Stanley shouted, throwing a bit of captain's
gruff which turned his reminder into a sharp edged order.

"It's in my windbreaker, Cap. I'm not that dumb.." Chet shouted back.
"See ya on the next airport shuttle back up here. My landing strip's
that beach you're gaping at, directly below us. My guide promises
I'll make it easily."

"Let's hope so." Hank countered.

"I KNOW so.." Kelly shot right back. "See ya.."
 
--------------------------------------------------------------------------------
 
Photo: Catalina airport cliff view.

Photo: Catalina avalon airport.

Photo: Catalina airport building.

Photo: Chris DeSoto, a teenaged blonde boy, close.

Photo: Catalina open airplane.

Photo: Catalina sand sunrise.

Photo: Catalina tentgrounds.

Photo: Chet hang gliding dunes.

Photo: Catalina pool gorge.

Photo: Cap and Chet in helmets by sunny
            cliffhouses. 

**************************************************
From: "Cory Anda" <andacory@hotmail.com> 
Date: Mon May 29, 2006 6:37pm 
Subject: Payback's a b*t*h  

"Ah, this is the life, fresh air, pine cones.. It's gonna be great."
sighed Lopez at the edge of the swimming hole.

Gage grinned, chewing on a blade of grass taken from a niche in
the rock..." What is it? It's a.. It's a...."

Stoker piped up, sleepily from where he napped in the sun.
"It's a thing of beauty."

"A thing of beauty?" grunted Chet as he made a sudden appearance
from the crack hole in the rock which served as the tourist's entry 
into the semi-secret red stone grotto framed around the deep green 
rain and spring fed pool.

"Yeah, a thing of beauty.." insisted Marco in a glare, part reminder for
Chet to stop the scuffling noise he was making. He eyed the harness
around Chet's torso. "So,.. you're going to go do it after all."

"And why not?" Kelly straightened up selfconsciously on the shelf
he had deposited his trail sweaty rear on. "Johnny's hang gliding 
idea was the best one he's ever come up for a vacation plan
since Santa Rosa County.." he beamed happily, rubbing some island
dust off of his nose. "That is,..if I ever get to cool off first. I didn't know
June out here gets so darned hot. And windy. I had to leave my glider
tied to a tree to keep it from blowing out to sea on me."

"It is a desert climate, Chet. Don't you know your California island
meteorology?" Lopez retorted.

"Enough to know that today's a good day for flying." Kelly said.

"Oh?" Gage sniggered. "Who else bought your fly like an Catalina 
osprey invitation besides yourself?"

"Chris and Ian DeSoto. Only they're doing it by cessna." he said. 
"Both should be at the airport right about now, making preparations
for takeoff."

"Yeah, well, I'm doing another kind of takeoff." said Marco, peeling
out of his Los Angeles Raiders jersey and jeans shorts down to
his swim trunks. "Who's up for some good wholesome cliff jumping?
The water's deep enough. You can see all the way down to the bottom.."

Stoker, Gage, Lopez and Kelly curled their toes on the rock ledge they perched 
upon, peering down distastefully. "You first.." said Gage. "That way, if you               **
don't make it, the rest of us can climb down and rescue you long before
you start drowning."

"Ok." said Marco in challenge. "This spot's not so high. What?.. It's about
eighteen feet up?"

"More like twenty.." grinned Stoker in a gray tank top and navy baseball
cap, plying his hose distance measuring skills easily.

"You can't leap off from way up here.." said Chet, growing disconcerted.
"This cliff's not a nice safe diving board. You'll shred all the skin off
your legs and bare feet for sure."

"Watch me.." Lopez shot at him.

"Oh, believe me, I will.." Kelly fired back. "And I'll be anticipating just
how long Cap'll shred you verbally too, if you go and hurt yourself for
doing such a crazy stunt."

"Marco's all right, Chet. The water depth's just fine.There aren't
any rocks jutting up from the bottom." Mike offered.

Kelly fell silent, casting a still half worried look down at the sun glistening
pool below them. 

Then Mike inserted a jokester's expert priming with one stylishly cool
phrase. "Pollo Pequeno.." said Stoker smoothly. "Bet you can't do the same 
dive.." he dangled. His words hung in the moist steamy air and echoed off 
the rocks.

Gage began to chuckle.

That did it. Chet's mouth set in a firm line. "Ok, Stoker. You're on. Ready to
rumble? Let's do this then.." and he mock spit into his hand pointedly, 
"..mano a mano. Marco, you be our height tester, but don't jump off. Just
let us know where the safe places are so we can complete this little contest
without killing ourselves horribly in the process or getting unfairly reassured
by having someone else jump down before us."

"You're on.." Marco crowed with excitement. "Stoker versus Kelly. On the high
dive.. Has a nice ring to it, doesn't it? Say you two dive up to.... " he cast his gaze
around the red sun glowing grotto.."that little gnarled bush up there as the top
most challenge. Ready? Line up your toes on the mark, boys." he said, scuffing
a sneaker in the sand on the ledge hanging over the water. "May the best
man...win.."

----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Stoker neatly swan dived from the second to the last shoe Marco had perched
on a fold in the ribboned cliff face. His body sliced into the water like a knife
and hardly made any splash on the way in.

The gang leaned over semi fearfully from the newest height to make sure he
surfaced once more.

Mike's head broke the surface. "Ok, Chet.. Your turn. Are ya gonna do
the ninety foot leap off or not? I'm tired of waiting for ya."

Kelly licked dry lips from where his lily white toes gripped the narrow
ledge he was leaning for dear life on.

Stoker taunted in good humor once again. "Are ya gonna let me pull
one over on ya once again like that day I stared down a gun? I'm
still laughing about that, Chet. No longer blushing.." he said, squirting
mirthful water out of his mouth playfully as he treaded water.

"I'll do it. I'll do it. " said Chet. "Just to shut your yap. Don't rush me!"
he shouted punily down from his great height.

The rest of the gang began to catcall and jeer with the rest of the tourists
in the grotto who were watching with shivering can't-watch captivation.

Gage shouted up one more time. "I can always swim out there and
catch ya!" he gestured at Chet.

"I'm not a cheater..." sputtered Kelly from up where he was. Marco and
Gage looked like ants to him from his perspective. "All right, I'm going.
If only to shut you up once and for all.." Then he lost his balance 
before he could leap away from the ragged rock face as his foot
slipped.

Johnny shouted. "Look out, Chet! Turn yourself! Turn yourself.. you're
in the wrong position to hit the wat---!"

SPLASH !!!!  !!!!   Kelly went, landing fully on his stomach, his legs
and arms splayed stiffly. Then his head and body disappeared beneath
the alkaline surface and his leap's violent ripples started to die away.

"Oooo.." Lopez grimaced, grabbing his own midsection in empathetic
sympathy. "What a belly flop..." he groaned. 

"Stoker, do you see him?" Johnny shouted down. "Is he ok after that one?
It's been taking longer and longer for you guys to swim back up to the
top."

Mike circled in a three sixty right where he stationed in the pool, eyeing
for movement from below. "Still seeing a bubble column. I think so."

Seconds dragged out into a full minute.

The gang became increasingly anxious until finally, even Mike began
shouting. "Chet? Where are you?!"

Johnny and Marco both leaped into the water after Mike to begin
a search.

Thirty horrifying seconds went by while all of them started to hyperventilate
for frantic search dives.

Then...  a curly mop broke the surface. "...OwwWWWww. That one smarted
like h*ll!"

Gage frontstroked over to Chet quickly and took him by the shoulders
and gripped an arm across his chest in a hold. "Chet, are you ok?! You scared 
the sh*t out of us. Mike's still down there diving after ya.."

"I'm fine." Kelly said drolly with a shrug. "Whatever gave you the idea
that I wasn't?"

"Your delay underwater.." said Marco.

"Geesh, guys. What do you think I was? Born yesterday? My sister and I used
to intentionally belly flop when we were kids to see how much water we could
displace out of the swimming pool. We used to laugh at the lifeguards
while they yelled at us for doing such a dangerous stunt. 
I know how to fall that way without ripping my guts open.."

"Well, he doesn't know that.." Johnny gasped, letting go of Kelly, pointing
down to Stoker's bottom sweeping underwater form.

"Perfect.. Guys, I'm gonna hide. Keep on pretending to look. Let's
scare him real good. Remember, I got some payback time coming for him
puking on me last week."

Gage broke into a grin. "Guess that's true. Ok.. go back down there.  
Pop up again after a longish minute or so. He should be good and riled 
up by then enough to satisfy honor."

"Cool beans.. If Mike doesn't laugh after this, then I know he's still messed
up from that gun call. It'll be our daily psych check on him. Thanks, guys,
in advance." And with that, Chet took a huge breath of air and returned to
the depths beneath the ledge to wait it out.

When the joke was sprung in the end, Johnny and Marco both sighed in relief
when the shy trademark smile spread over Stoker's face when he realized
that he'd been had most thoroughly. 

"You got me, Chet. Ha HA!" he said, shaking water out of his eyes while
catching his breath back. He let the others haul him out of the water to
recover. "Man, guess we're even now on the joking oneupmanship.
I didn't know you had it in you.." he crowed. "I never thought you'd pull your
revenge out on me while we were still on vacation.."

"Yeah, well live and learn.." Kelly said, holding out a hand of apology for
scaring him. 

Stoker took it warmly while he shivered in the beach towel
Marco piled on top of his head. "You know what this means though."

"No, what?" said Kelly.

"It means I get to pull another joke on you now, too, during vacation. 
Watch your back, then, Chet. Because I just might be right behind you
when you least expect it."

The smile wiped clean off of Chet's face.

-----------------------------------------------------------

Photo: Chet sitting by a desert rain pool.

Photo: Cliff divers diving.

Photo:  Chet doing a belly flop.

Photo:  Chet holding up a peace pipe in a joke.
                                                                                                                                                              
****************************************************************************** 
From: Patti or Jeff or Cassidy <theaterhost@voyagerliveaction.com> 
Date: Fri Jun 2, 2006  4:15 pm 
Subject: Here's To Chips and Wings.. 


"Aw, don't take it so hard, Chet." said Marco, patting the curly haired
fireman on the back. "It's not like it's the end of the world, you know."

"No, but it's the end of me being able to completely relax myself.
I won't be able to let my guard down for even a second now." sighed
Chet, staring at Mike Stoker's sunburned back as the engineer dried
himself off with a beach towel.

"Poor baby. Here, have a coke." said Johnny. "The sugar in it'll calm your
nerves down." Gage nudged an icy glass bottle against Kelly's 
shoulder in emphasis.

Kelly jumped at the bone aching chill branding his reddened 
skin and he snatched the bottle out of Johnny's hands in irritation. 
"So who won? Me or him?" Chet grumped.

Lopez shared with eagerness.
"It was a draw. You both leaped off at the ninety foot mark." 

Chet wilted in fatigue, letting water droplets drip down off his hair and
onto the cold stone beneath him. "Aw, man.... really? I put everything I 
had into beating his smug little a---"

"Now, none of that. Why don't you go warm yourself in the sun at the
top? It'll loosen you up a tad. I'll walk up your lunch as soon as Mike 
and I get it ready. And I promise I won't let him get any opportunity 
to lace it with jalapenos from Marco's provisions pack." Johnny 
suggested.

"Thanks, I'm counting on you, Gage. Don't mess up here or I promise
you, you'll never hear the end of it." Chet warned quietly as he painfully
buckled his sandals and put on a hawaiian shirt. 

"Geesh, what a grump.." Johnny frowned as he and Lopez watched
Kelly stiffly make his way up the narrow path leading out of the swimming
grotto. Then Johnny started laughing. "Maybe I should slip some aspirin 
into his potato salad for all those sore muscles of his." he chuckled
to the other two.

Mike piped up as he pulled a T-shirt on over his goose pimpling skin.
"Let him suffer until sundown. Then tend to him. He scared the sh*t out of 
me by staying underwater like that for so long." 

"All right. Makes sense to me. He's only gonna get even MORE sore after
getting in that hang gliding session today." Johnny nodded.

-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Chet Kelly was almost dozing.  Almost... 

One eye was sealed shut and the other was scanning the pure blue skies 
morphing clouds overhead.

He could hear Sonoran bumblebees and smell California lilacs in
full bloom on the breeze. The spicy scents of toyon and oak intoxicated
him where he snugged face down on a hot boulder to ease his still 
smarting stomach. He knew that he'd have one h*ll of a bruise there 
by nightfall.

He lazily surveyed the canyon and near distant Mount Orizaba, until his
hand brushed something coarse and very sun warmed by his feet. He 
picked it up and studied it. ::I wonder what this rock is? Lava? It's so 
light...::

A scuffling on the trail behind him made Chet scramble to his feet and
get under a mesquite bush. He held his new found soft rock cocked
in ambush while he waited for Mike Stoker to appear....

A firm, strong nose on his shoulder made him fly forward in complete
surprise and Kelly fell onto his back, facing the sun.

'Snort!' huffed a truly massive animal. Kelly scattered like a crab away
from the shaggy beast, still hefting his tan rock pathetically until his head
impacted against a leather boot. Chet looked up, rubbing his scalp with
a free hand.

It was Johnny. And he began to laugh. "What's the matter, Chet? Haven't
you ever seen a buffalo face to face before?"

Chet shot to his feet. "That's a...  a... buffalo? H-Here? But ..but ..but, this
is an island, Gage. Who'd ever release and leave those monsters to fend 
for themselves way out here?"

"The Conservancy, Chet. Catalina's eighty eight percent wildlife land now.
Don't worry. I don't think he's gonna charge. He's not jaw chomping nearly
enough." reassured Johnny, who seemed expert on that kind of thing.

To Chet, Johnny seemed even more Native American right then to him
than he'd ever had before in recent recollection. ::Maybe him being
near that buffalo, wearing those chaps, helps with the effect.:: Kelly guessed.

Johnny thought Chet was still petrified with fear so he pointed to the ground.
"Didn't you see all of their footprints around here? This is perfect bison 
country."

Kelly didn't answer him. He still stood frozen, eye to eye with the 
mildly curious, cud chewing bovine standing only thirty feet away from 
the two firemen. It was well concealed by natural camouflage in the heavy 
mesquite scrub. "Nice, big cow.." Chet soothed the placid bison 
nervously.

'Snort!' it answered, sending up a cloud of desert dust from
its coat.

"Easy boy.. I'm not gonna--" Kelly started to say.

Gage interrupted him.

Johnny looked down and eyed up Chet's geological curiosity, noticing
it for the first time. He gripped Kelly's wrist and turned it over, studying Chet's
odd rock with a growing amusement. "Hmmmm. I didn't know you 
liked to collect buffalo chips to go along with your western era barbed wire
collection, Chet. This one's still fresh."

Chet gagged with a cry and dropped the crusty lump instantly.

He groaned in disgust while he immediately began wiping 
both of his hands off onto his equally dusty shorts.

Johnny smiled even bigger when Kelly went running back to the 
swimming grotto to wash the dried buffalo dung off his palms.

--------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- 
Chris DeSoto was as excited as he could be. He had found
Ian DeSoto just in the nick of time. 

His grandfather had completed his walk about his airplane, 
paid the tie-down and landing fees, and now he was on the radio 
with the local coastal air control tower situated in Long Beach. 
"Unicom tower, this is Alpha Tango Charlie 11795, requesting
clearance for take-off on runway 22 with two souls on board."
said Ian with a wink at Chris, belted in the front passenger seat.

##You are clear for take-off, ATC11795. Note your MSL approach  
is North 33 by 24.30 and West 118 by 24.95. Altimeter ground level
is 2602 feet. Nearest traffic is 7 nautical miles due SSE
at 1120 feet. Current weather shows a building but weak 
low pressure 40 miles west into your direction. Wind is 20 knots WSW.##

"Confirmed, Unicom. My transponder is actuated. Thanks for the update."

Chris smiled in wonder as the older man put on his helmet after hanging
up the radio receiver mic. "What was that all about? That sounded like
LAX. It's seems so remote here on the mountaintop, grandpa. 
I didn't know anybody was even watching us."

Ian laughed out loud. "We're still too close into the coastline
to not be worried about the other ten thousand and six airplanes zooming 
through the skies over our heads." he explained. "You're forgetting
that all the airliners loop out over the ocean on takeoff from Los Angeles.
And that puts a plane into a trajectory that clips Catalina Island's local 
airspace once every minute and a half."

"Really? Where?" said Chris, pressing his nose against the windshield
of his side of the little white cessna in a careful search.

"Right there..." said Ian, pointing down towards the ocean.

Chris's mouth flopped open when he saw a red tailed Northwest plane
angling out over the sea in a turning arch to gain altitude away from
the unseen skyscrapers of Long Beach, L.A. and Torrance. "They're
below us?"

"Yep. The approach end of Catalina's runway 22 begins at the edge of 
a 1500' cliff. This gives the airport some characteristics similar to landing 
on an aircraft carrier that is 1,602' in the air." said Mr. DeSoto.

"Wow. Needle in a haystack! What else is weird about this airport?" 
asked Roy's oldest.

"Well," said Ian, taking his aircraft into a taxi mode ahead of the other
tourist planes, idling with spinning props for their turn to use the runway.
"This runway's first 2000 feet slopes up and the remainder of it is level.
Pilots can't see aircraft on opposite ends of the runway due to its
gradient. There've been plenty of accidents on this course. On landing, 
that strange upslope creates the illusion of being higher than you really are, 
tricking inexperienced pilots into flying its approach too low. They then
encounter the steep dropoff at the end of the runway which always 
creates significant downdrafts and turbulence, often exceeding some of
the smaller aircrafts' ability to climb."

"Isn't that dangerous?" frowned Chris, adjusting the radio mic over his
mouth around his bulky blue helmet. 

"Nah. Unschooled pilots are never allowed to fly to Catalina, Chris. 
That optical illusion's overcome by using the altimeter, and some focusing on
only the first few hundred feet of the runway. And you can back yourself up
using VASI during the approach. Most pilots only see half the runway when 
aligned with it in takeoff position, See us right now?" he asked, pointing
out ahead of them. "Pilots on their first time here have induced a takeoff 
stall as they panicked by pulling up near the mid-point of runway, thinking it 
was the end."

"Well that's dumb.." said Chris, turning his head. 

"What is?" asked Ian, keeping his eye on the jumbo jet's comtrail he could
see climbing out over the ocean nearly at their same elevation.

"There are no mid-field or distance remaining signs for the runway."
said the teenager.

"I know. This airport's private, Chris. Hard to raise funds for aircraft services,
FBO, fuel, and maintenance if you don't have airfares. They've just
the landing fees to rely on." said Ian. "A cute reminder of that is the fact
that we find rocks fallen on the runway all the time. Makes me glad sometimes
that they have their full stop landing ordinance absolution. Are you ready?
Get set for a strong downdraft at the approach end of the runway. It's 
caused by the prevailing winds falling over that monster cliff out there that
we can't see yet. Be prepared for a dive, Chris. Catalina's downdrafts are
notorious. We might suffer a loss of altitude during our short final."

"I'm set, grandpa. Let's fly.." smiled Chris. "I trust you."

The small airplane soon launched herself into the great big blue
sky surrounding them, heading out over the longest width of rugged, 
high peaked Catalina.

----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
It was about three hours before sundown. Kelly had convinced Marco
to fly for the first time with his morning hang glider guide, Kip. 

"All right, I think that's it. I think we got everything.." said Chet, growing
excited.

Cap frowned as he eyed the row of cloth and aluminum framed gliders
lined up on the highest dune of Ripper's Cove. "What's all this stuff?
I thought we were just going camping.."

Kelly looked at Marco. "Oh, you didn't tell him?"

Marco said. "I thought you did."

Hank narrowed his eyes suspiciously. "Tell me what?"

Chet fidgetted under his captain's withering look. "Well, we're
going camping. But we also thought we'd do some hang gliding."
he grinned warmly, adjusting a wire's tension on his glider.

"Oh, you mean 'we' as in you and Lopez. Because I tried this craziness
once and I'm not gonna go do it again." Hank said, looking uncomfortable.

"Aww, don't be such a bab-- uh, stick in the mud." said Johnny to Stanley.
"It's gotta be a lot of fun."

"It's a great sport, it's a..." Kelly said, trailing off as struggled to think of 
an expression that covered what he was feeling about flying.
 
"A thing of beauty.." piped up Gage as he saw others circling gracefully
in the clouds above them over Avalon. "Wow.. just look at them!"

"A thing of beauty, huh.." parroted Cap doubtfully, shaking his head in
soft sarcasm.

"You're gonna be thanking us come Monday." Chet reassured him.

"Ah,..after a surprise like this, I doubt I'll be talking to either one
of you guys." Stanley grumbled. 

"Don't worry. I thought ahead.." said Gage. "Just in case you change your
mind, Cap, I brought you a glider."

Cap laughed in his face. "John, there is no case, no possible scenario
that will EVER... get me to jump off a cliff again without a rappelling rope. 
Honestly? I thought you guys would try to pull something like this. Come 
on, come on, let's go. Let's get back to the campsite and get Roy. I wanna
grab another drumstick or two off the barbeque. I'm still hungry."

-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

An hour later, Kelly strapped himself in with Johnny's help.
"Cap, are you sure you won't change your mind?"

Hank chuckled from his portable camper's chair. "I was about
to ask you the same thing."

Chet was eager to talk about how his morning flight lessons had
gone. "Ah, there's nothing like the rush of leaping off that cliff, Cap.
Get this for me, Johnny, will you?" he asked Gage, pointing to
his radio helmet's strap.

Hank was thoughtful. "Listen, uh.. If you guys really wanna die so
bad, I got assigned a golf cart rental with no brakes."

Kelly, Chet, Johnny and Roy laughed at the invitation.

"Then don't drive it." DeSoto smirked.

"Walking's good.." Hank nodded in instant agreement.

Kelly wove his story about his lesson with the artistry only a new
time hang glider could create, eyeing up Cap especially. 

Johnny merely listened in with fascinated horror. 

"You take off a cliff, drop for a couple of seconds, the wind takes hold.."
Chet grinned. "It's a.. what is it?" he gestured gimme fingers at
the eager listening Marco.

"It's a thing of beauty.." said Kip, the hang glider guide strapping
Marco into his harness attached to his own in a tandem knot.  

Hank was beginning to see the attraction. "A thing of beauty.." he
mumbled finally in a quiet admiration.

Chet picked up his solo glider's wings by the flight bar as Johnny
stepped away. "Come on. Get out of the way, Gage." he shouted
impatiently, grinning like a banshee. "Kip. Marco.. I'll see you
up there!" he shouted, running for the dune's high edge.
Soon, he was airborne. "Yeah.. wooo! " he said as he
drifted away on an uprising thermal. "I'll catch up with you
later!!" he shouted back down to the ground at Cap. 

Once Lopez got over his fright of being strapped like a mummy to
something without an engine to keep it in the air, he actually found that
he reveled in the silence of cloth winged flight. And then he stopped
bubbling out nervous questions at Kip, tandem tied above him in
the same glider.

The two firemen had fun radioing to each other in the air and they challenged
one another in trying to match a soaring osprey's rise inside a warm ocean
thermal. They could see all of Santa Catalina spread out beneath them. Its
crystal blue cove waters amazing visibility and the orange flecks of garibaldi 
mingled with the brown blades of giant kelp.   

Marco grinned. "Hey, Chet..." he said over the headset.

"What, Marco? Can't you see I'm busy banking corkscrews?" shouted Chet
excitedly from his own solo hang glider.

Lopez smile right back as he looked at the crazy antics his coworker
was swooping out just above him. "I haven’t seen a car since we launched off
the dunes at Two Harbors."

"That's because they're aren't any. Well, not many, anyway. The locals
and tourists mostly use golfcarts because it takes twelve years to get
a permit to own and drive an automobile." shouted Kelly over
the wind in his transmission.

"Far out.." said Marco. "My kind of town. Just like the Prisoner series on TV.
You are number 6.." he said in a mock english voice.

Chet shouted gleefully, high on flying. "I am not a number," he crowed "I am 
a free man."

Lopez was reflective in his helmet as Kip banked their hang glider
in for a better view of the two small towns built on the island. 
"Yeah, up here, we both are. And doesn't Avalon look like the Village
from that show?"

"Yeah, spooky. I'm just glad we won't be finding Rover on the beach
when we land anytime soon."

"Chet? Kip wants to take me over the west end to see the Isthmus
up close. Meet you back in this area in five?" asked Lopez through 
his helmet frequency.

"Ok, in five and counting." said Chet, setting his watch. "I'll coast 
inside this thermal while I wait for the two of ya to show me the way
home. I really wanna go higher than that osprey, man. It's become
a matter of pride."

"Good luck." said Kip from his own radio set. "Osprey won't tolerate
anything over their heads. Makes them chatter something fierce.
I've never been able to do it."

"First time for everything..." said Chet, gaining altitude. 

"See you soon.." said Marco as he and Kip leaned onto their
hang glider's guide bar and swept out of sight into the setting sun.

Chet smiled when he realized that he finally had some real solitude
to savor on his own. ::Ah, aloneness.:: "You got the right idea my fine
feathered friend." he said to the osprey gliding around in the thermal
above him. "I love it." Kelly stretched in his harness. "Cap, you
don't know what you're missing by keeping those cold feet of yours.
This is pure heaven on earth. Marco's learning that, too."

-----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Photo: Hoofprints in clay.

Photo: Johnny looking to the right, in the mountains.

Photo:  Buffalo on Catalina Island.

Photo:   Catalina airport's cliff view.

Photo:   Catalina's infamous runway 22. 

Photo:   Runway 22's dangerous optical illusion.

Photo:   Cessna over Catalina aerial.

Photo:    Chet hang gliding.

Photo:  Crazy hang glider guide and tandem rider in a dive.

Photo:  A flying Catalina osprey.

Photo:   Number 6 from the TV series, The Prisoner, with Number 2. 

Photo:  The "Village" from the series, The Prisoner.

Photo:  A beaten Number 6 on the beach with the Rover smothering ball.

Photo:   Cap and Chet smiling outside.

**************************************************
From: Patti or Jeff or Cassidy <theaterhost@voyagerliveaction.com> 
Date: Sun Jun 4, 2006 6:13pm 
Subject: Moments of Gravity.. 

 
Lopez had just begun relaxing when it happened.  A sharp
upwelling gust jolted their wind sails, lurching both Kip and
himself upwards in a nauseating violent jerk. Kip yelled.
"Hang on. We've hit a dust devil! I'm trying to--"
His words were ripped away as another slap of curling wind
twisted around their glider unexpectedly.

Lopez, ever the alert fireman, started talking immediately on
his headset to the others at the campsite. "Hank, Roy! We've
hit an off-thermal..." he grunted.

Kip struggled to right the craft, falling into swoops and dives,
trying to find his way out of the narrow monstrous downdraft.
He didn't speak, so intent was his concentration.

There was no reply from the others.

Cap, Roy, Johnny and Stoker were too engrossed in
eyeing up the sights on the beach below them with binoculars
to even pay attention to Marco's frantic radio transmission
echoing out of all the other upturned hang glider helmets
parked on the picnic table on the other side of the camp fire.

Kelly didn't hear him either, he was currently dipping into a low
canyon in a bid to beat the osprey at his own game.

Marco gasped, sharp grains of whirling sand getting into his
eyes. "Guys! We're in trouble!" he screamed into the helmet
radio's mic over the roar of the invisible whirlwind toying
with them.

Kip's chin hit him on the back, making him grunt in pain at another
lurch. "Keep ... talking!" grunted the guide, forcing the flight bar
up to try and gain more altitude. But the force of the mini tornado
was too strong to resist.

Marco gasped as the tips of tall pine trees hurdled up towards them.
"Guys.. we're going down!! Guys, can you hear me?!" Lopez
yelled. "Chet, eye our position! We're going d---"

CRASH!!!  A main beam of torrey pine cracked off the left wing of
Kip and Marco's hang glider, sending them dropping dozens of
feet towards the ground and into a thick stand of a small forest.

Both men fell like rocks, helplessly tethered to the craft as it tumbled
down and destroyed itself in violent snaps and shrieks of aluminum.

------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Marco opened his eyes at the soft tink of metal pipes banging into
each other above him.  He was still in his harness. But he was
also hanging thirty feet above the ground from a treetop where
the luckless glider had embedded itself.

He gave a start when he twisted around in place to check on Kip.
The guide was impaled fully on a branch through the chest next
to him and his face was blue. He was very dead.

"Madre Dios..." Lopez muttered, crossing himself. Closing his eyes,
he inwardly assessed his status. ::No broken bones. Not
bleeding from anywhere except my left cheek. At least that's 
something.:: he thought.   Then he remembered his radio.
Reaching painfully up, he groped until he found the mouth mic that
had been bent and twisted upwards and tried to use it. 
"Chet? Do you read me? Chet?" But there was no power left in it. 
None at all from what he could see. Its speaker light was dark.
::D*mn it. This'll never work again.:: Marco thought when he found
the back of the power unit thoroughly crushed.

He shoved panic aside and worked to free himself from where
he hung. Struggling, he undid his helmet strap to be able to
breathe a little better. It slipped off his head and Marco watched
with some horror as it took a fairly long time to thud to the ground
after crashing through the tree boughs swaying underneath him.

Then Lopez's unfamiliarity with the harness releases tying him to 
Kip's body proved his undoing. The main buckle opened suddenly 
and dropped him out of the tangled glider wreckage and into a
sudden freefall.

Marco yelled in startled surprise. His momentum was slowed only 
slightly by some thick pine branches as his body fell towards the 
ground. Pieces of his hang glider and some of its wingsail tumbled 
down with him, striking Lopez painfully on the head, arms and legs.

Then he hit bottom, landing on his back in a thick bed of pine needles 
with his right leg folded awkwardly beneath him. The large bone below
the knee instantly snapped like a twig.

"AhhhHHH!" grimaced Marco and he folded up double over it and
gripped the fresh, closed break with both of his hands in acute agony.
He threw up immediately, losing his late lunch. Soon, he found he could 
breathe again as the wind that had gotten knocked out of him, returned.

When the bout was over, he was left suffering retinal stars and gagging 
at his intense pain. 

Then some of Kip's blood began to drip on his face from far above 
and he fainted into oblivion.


Ten minutes later, Marco was ready. He had bound his leg with
aluminum struts and glider cloth in a tight splint and he had made 
himself a makeshift crutch using a piece of debris from one of his
glider's overhead beams.  "Ok..." he grunted, psyching up to
try and stand. He knew he had to get to a trail or at least get out in
the open so Chet would be able spot him or the crashed glider still
hanging partially in the treetops.

He eventually got onto his good foot and began the long way 
back to the duneside campsite that lay a few miles downhill from 
him.

--------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Hank was beside himself. "Come on, Chet." he said into one of
the helmet's microphones. Gage, Stoker and Roy were sitting
next to him on top of the picnic table, also wearing glider gear
so that they could hear the conversation. "He crashed didn't he?"

##No,.. no.. he's fine. He's just ah, ...he's just up to some kind of 
funny business.## sighed Chet from where he was in the air.

"Then why aren't you laughing?" Cap growled. "And why can't we
pick him up on his radio?"

Chet got defensive. ##Because these radios have only got a range of
ten miles!## he decided. ##If I'm not back in fifteen minutes....##

"Just find him." Gage said, holding onto their portable VHF radio
receiver in case they needed outside aid. He had already dialed
over to frequency sixteen, the emergency channel.

##I will.. ## gasped Chet with worry as he flew his searching sweeps.
##I'll find him.##

Quiet waves of wind rustled his glider's wings as Kelly focused 
his gaze on the ground as he swept over the arid landscape and 
steep cliffs which descending in deep ripples all around him towards 
the surrounding ocean. On an instinct, he followed the osprey, still 
calling forlornly above him. It was headed towards a thick wood 
a few miles away.

----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Marco was getting tired, fighting his way through thick scrubland using
the clumsy crutch. Then another root seemed to snag the end of
the aluminum pole under his arm and he fell heavily to the ground
yet again.

Lopez took the wave of pain from the jarring tightly, waiting it out.
Then he opened his eyes to see where the crutch had tumbled to.

He was stunned when he heard the buzz of a snake begin behind
him from under a bush. It was very nearby. ::Rattler!:: Marco quailed,
freezing in place so he could locate where the sound was coming from.
He found it camouflaged in a snarl of branches and roots. It was a fat 
rattlesnake only a yard away. The snake was very angry. Marco's
good foot was lying directly on a rabbit it had just killed.  

Marco breath quavered as he tried to will the snake to stillness where it
lay inside the tangled knot of its body. He became acutely aware of the 
quiet-full-of-sound; quail and other birds, waves, wind, insects and the 
bite of poison oak beginning to form a rash over all the exposed areas 
of his skin. A trickle of sweat stung his eyes but he didn't dare wipe it 
away. Slowly, his eyes located the metal bar and he reached for it in 
slow motion until he gripped its sun warmed weight. Scuffling softly in the 
clay, he moved it back under his arm until he could roll his body inch 
by inch away from the snake.

But then, an untied shoe laced twitched an ear on the dead hare. The
snake struck.. driving both fangs deep into the calf of Marco's good leg.

Jerking in panic, Marco threw himself over backwards in fright and in doing
so, fell over a dropoff which sent him hurtling down into an uncontrolled
tumble down a cliff.  His broken leg's splint slammed painfully into rocks
and bushes as he rolled, making Marco scream as he tried to arrest 
his violent fall helplessly.

Then he hit bottom in a deep arroyo and landed face down onto some moist
dirt by a small bubbling creekbed. 

Violated, bumped and bruised, Marco took one big stunned breath as he 
tried to rise back onto his hands and knees, but then overwhelming shock 
took him deep into blackness.

------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Captain Stanley spoke again by helmet radio. "Any signs, Chet?"

##Not yet.## Kelly answered, turning his flight bar into another turn to the
left so that he'd arch into the next canyon. Then he spotted a sudden white
and orange flash in between some pine trees. He gasped. "##Cap, 
I got a visual. Looks like they're down.##

Gage broke in using his own helmet mic. "Are they ok?"

Chet replied. ##I don't know. I don't see em. There's some broken branches.
Looks like they hit hard.##

Hank sighed. "Let assume those boys have gone and broke something. I'm 
gonna take the golf cart down the mountain to get a chopper."

"Cap, you can't. It'll be dark soon. Too dark to navigate the drive clearly
without good brakes." Roy said to him.

"What choice do we have? It'll be night soon." Cap spat.

"Give Chet a chance to find them. They may be ok and walking out
of there as we speak." Roy suggested.

"Twenty minutes.." Hank agreed. 

Johnny offered another option. "Guys, I can raise help right here.." he said, 
holding up Roy's portable hand held that he had dug out of a backpack.

"Do it." ordered Stanley. "Chet, Johnny's radioing on VHF 16 for assistance.
Hang tight and keep circling over that spot."

Johnny began his hail for help while Cap and Chet continued their 
conversation while Roy and Stoker listened on.

Kelly spoke up again. ##Gage's out of range down there, Cap. I just flipped
over and I can't hear him at all. He's transmitting nothing but static.##

"Then I'll walk to a higher elevation." Gage said.

"You can't get any higher than this, we must be getting blocked by
Mt. Black Jack's leeward side. It's higher than we are." DeSoto
said.

Hank eyed all three of his men. "Then what's left for us to do, huh?
Can you tell me that?"

Roy, Stoker and Johnny looked at him but couldn't offer anything.

Hank walked to the dune's edge and hailed Chet once more.
"Kelly, what's going on? Talk to me."

Chet was straining his eyes to the utmost to see past the growing
shadows falling on the land below him. Then, he saw a small figure
lying on the ground with a bent leg. ##Cap, I see something. I'm
taking ...*static crackle* ..a closer look. *crackle spatter*##

"Chet, you're starting to break up, you're almost out of range."
said Stoker into a mic. 

##I found Marco. He's at the bottom of a rocky quarry.## Chet shouted,
growing scared. Lopez was lying absolutely still, partially tangled in
a bush with a leg splint half undone. ##Cap, I'm about ten
to twelve miles east--- ##  The frequency fizzled into immutability
into all their ears.

Hank shouted. "Chet!"

##.....*static*...I'm going in for a landing...## 

The radio comm whistled and then cut out completely.

Hank pulled off the glider helmet and threw it onto the 
ground in disgust.

Gage shot to his feet. "Time's up, Cap. I've got to leave."

"How?" Roy asked him incredulously. "We can hardly see
the terrain around us."

Cap said, "And you're not taking that golf cart. Not until we fix those
brakes."

Johnny rubbed his face. "I'm not talking about taking the cart.
I'm talking about using one of those.." Gage said, pointing at
the waiting hang glider that Chet had set out for Cap to try.

"You must be outta your mind." Cap told him. "You've never
flown one of those things before. You'll end up like those two
did and wreck yourself on a hillside somewhere."

"No I won't, Cap. Haven't you noticed? It's nearly dark outside.
The wind's died down an awful lot from what it used to be. I can
just glide into Avalon and land on the beach. How can I miss
it? The whole village's lit up like a Christmas tree. I can't
possibly hurt myself.." said Gage, pointing towards the tied
down hang glider's large silhouette looming nearly over them.

The three of them just stared back without saying anything.

"All right. Ok. All right. I admit there are no guarantees here.
But I can't think of anyone else but me who'll actually dare 
to fly out of here. Can you? Besides, I can't be scared of 
something I can't even see. It'll be too dark for me 
to know how high up I am." Johnny insisted. "Ok, Stoker, are you 
gonna get up off your stunned butt long enough to help me 
get into this thing or am I gonna haveta get into this harness 
all by myself?" 

Hank saw the look of sweaty determination in his paramedic's
face and found that he couldn't counteract his decision to fly
out for help. He just nodded once at Mike, tersely, without 
saying anything.

Johnny ran off into the darkness, followed quickly by Roy and
Stoker at his heels.
                                                                                                                                                             
-----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
Chet Kelly circled until the cliff sides of Marco's canyon were
whizzing by under his sneakered toes. He barely banked around
a small tree in the way as he glided his wingtips lower and lower 
down with each pass, until suddenly there was no more room for
him to travel. Just solid rock looming up before him.

Kelly panicked and pulled up on the flight bar, causing the hang 
glider to stall in mid air about twelve feet from the ground.

He landed nose down, heavily falling onto his right side with
a cry of frustration. Then he got up.

The night's stillness surrounded him. Unclipping his harness straps
and pulling off his helmet, Chet began to run towards the 
bushes which ringed the place he remembered as framing 
where Marco had fallen. 

He found him.

"Marco?" gasped Chet, kneeling quickly at Lopez's head. He
gently rolled him over as a unit and Kelly bent down, listening over
his nose and mouth.

Lopez was breathing shallow and fast. Chet took a pulse at his neck.
It was rapid.

Sweeping down Marco's body for blood and problems, Kelly found
a soft spot on Lopez's left side along the ribs. When he pressed the 
area lightly, Marco moaned faintly. Chet studied his face. "You are a 
mess." he complained. But he got happier when he didn't find any signs 
of active bleeding anywhere. He paused only briefly over the leg 
splint which was still doing its job even though it was muddy and 
very torn.

He moved further on his survey to course down Marco's 
good leg, splitting his jeans cuff open with a pocket knife. 

Turning the limb over at a feeling of dampness, Chet spotted 
two wet spots glistening in the waning daylight on Marco's calf. 
He recognized them as fang marks. 
"You tangled with a snake, too? Oh, Marco,..why'd you have to go and 
do a Johnny Gage? I'm not a paramedic here.." he mumbled, hesitating 
over the puncture wounds. Then training took over and he tore part of the 
splint's binding free, to use as a restricting band and he used it to tie 
off the blood flow just below Lopez's knee above the bite. "We've got 
nothing to worry about." he told Marco's still form. "The guys know exactly 
where we are. They're going for help."

------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
Johnny nodded once at the others behind him with a confidence he
didn't feel as he adjusted his radio helmet on a little tighter. Then
he ran forward, hanging onto the flight bar as sent his hang glider 
off the edge of the dune.

He couldn't help himself. His screams began immediately as the first
sickenly lurch downward took hold.  Then the wind captured the 
wings and lifted him back up with a jerk into the opposite direction.

Gage careened sideways, overbalancing, and his legs kicked out 
as he swooped and dived up and down, wildly fighting the flight
bar and glider physics for control.

He couldn't hear the shouts of encouragement the others were calling
to him over the radio as he fought to calm the glider against a strong
breeze as he gained altitude. He lived a rollercoaster nightmare until
he remembered what he saw Chet and Marco and Kip doing to
steer the kites.  He straightened his body and relaxed into a push
up layout with his hands gripping right next to the landing wheels
on the triangle bar. The glider levelled off and the violent cloth rippling 
above him died away into soft rustles. He stopped falling.

"Hehhehe.." he trickled at last. "Hey guys, I think I got the hang of it."
At their groans, he apologized. "Sorry for the pun. Aiming for the beach
now." he told them.

The firemen watched as their messenger sank out of sight into
the land's shadows. Then they began to pack up camp to head for
the airport on the way to meet the rescue crews when they finally arrived.

---------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
Chet was scoping out some shelter for Marco when Lopez regained 
consciousness with loud groans and yells. He went running
back to his side.  

Kelly knelt by his head and helped Marco roll onto his back again
from the recovery position Chet had left him in. "That was a good healthy
scream. Glad to see you're feeling better.." Chet said happily, supporting
Lopez's head while he attempted to focus on his face.

Marco was very groggy and it took him a while to recognize Chet.
Finally, he gasped out a word. "Hey..."

"Hey..." answered Kelly softly, concerned. He waited while Marco worked 
through some shortness of breath and confusion.

"Wh--where are we?" Lopez whispered. 

"We're down inside a rock quarry." Chet told him.

"How the h*ll did that happen?"

"You crashed your glider."

Marco got mad. "I know I crashed my glider. I hit a tree. How
did I get down here?"

Chet shrugged, still leaving a hand on Marco's chest. "I don't
know. I guess you fell trying to get away from that snake."

"Snake?" Marco asked muzzily. Recollection was slow, but it did come.
"Oh,.. the snake.." he sighed sarcastically as he lowered his head down
onto the fanny pack Chet deftly placed underneath his dusty head. 
Marco winced as he tried to move.

"Easy.." said Chet, grabbing onto his shoulders..

"Help me up, ok?" Lopez told him, gasping.

Kelly did, so his breathing would ease, and he started to lift Marco 
against his chest. He felt both of his hands to see how cold he was 
getting with the night's arriving chill. "Come on." he smiled, not letting 
his worry show when he found clamminess to go along with icy skin. 
"Come up. I got you."

Marco drew in a greater breath in half relief once he was upright onto
his butt. He noticed the new dressing over his snakebite. "Did you do
this?"

"Yep." said Chet mildly, still watching Marco's reactions closely. 

"It's a good job." Lopez tried to smile.

"Thanks."

Then Marco's face twisted in strain. "Oh, Chet, I broke my leg." he sobbed.

"You sure did." Kelly agreed. "But you did a nice job on the splint though."
he said, passing over a canteen so Marco could sip some water to ease a
his dry mouth.

Marco took a long swallow. "Uh,..brr..." he said, shivering, drawing his jacket
closer around himself.

"Yeah, looks like we're in for a chilly night..." Kelly shared with him.

Lopez stabbed him with a glare. "What do you mean we're in for a chilly
night? What are you doing hanging around here? Why don't you go get help?"

"I can't. We're stranded." Chet admitted, taking back the canteen Marco
handed to him to seal up again. "I can't carry you outta here. I glided in."

Marco was flippant. "You glided in.. Huh. That's brilliant." he said.
Then he threw up a careless hand. "Well, at least you brought your
headset."

"Yes, I brought my headset." said Chet, nodding.

"Great.." said Marco, lowering himself back down onto the medkit pillow
to get comfortable.

Kelly went on. "....but a headset doesn't work 300 feet down in a rock quarry."
Chet explained, biting his lip.

Marco's face fell into a firm line. "Can I ask you a personal question?" he
asked tersely.

Chet began to fidget self consciously, shaking his head in an adamant no
while looking everywhere else but at Marco.

Lopez asked it anyway. "Where did you learn your rescue training anyway?"

It was Kelly turn to bristle a bit, but he kept his temper under admirable control
for Marco's sake and health. "I'm going to go look for some shelter." he said 
neutrally, pointing at the narrow canyon walls surrounding them.

"Good. Great idea. You go do that." said Marco, still mad. He shifted around 
onto his side to try and find some sleep. "I'll wait here.." he retorted, "Huh. 
He glides in...." he complained as Chet jogged away from him. 

But sleep didn't come, only nausea... And fever.

-----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
Johnny had a very short flight back to civilization. It took about five minutes
despite his helicopter like vantage point from the hang glider. ::Thank God
it's a small island.:: he thought with relief.

The Casino Dive Park beach lay just below him in the soft darkness. He aimed
for where he could see a black strip between the sidewalk running lights
and the surf's moonglow glistening white caps. ::That's sand. It's soft.::

Lower and lower he came, until he narrowly missed pulling up to avoid a 
life guard tower's flagpole. He took it out with a wing tip, wavered in his flight,
then crashed onto the beach.

A figure came running out of the darkness from the dive shop. "Hey, are you
all right? Why'd you land so late? Don't you know it's against the law to fly 
after sundown?" said the angry shop owner, who righted the hang glider's
nose up to see the dazed and sandy Gage struggling to free himself 
out of the harness underneath it. "You're one of those camping 
firemen, aren't you?" asked the man.

Johnny coughed out sand. "Some landing, huh?"

"Well, are you all right?" 

"Yeah, I'm ok. It's a friend of mine who's in trouble."

"Well, why didn't you say so? I got a golf cart right over here.
Don't worry about the flagpole. Hang gliders knock it down all the time 
landing here. I got a deal worked out with the park people who patch 
it up again in return for being able to park their boats on my 
pier." said the man with a shrug.

Gage listened impatiently. "You got a phone?"

"No,  I ..uh. I don't. My shop's kinda small."

"Can I borrow your wheels then.." Gage asked like a bulldog on a bone.
It was not a question.

"Sure. My golf cart's right over there by that palm tree. 
Just bring it back in the morning for I'm gonna be using it to bring tourists
down from the hotel to the glass bottom boat tour's launching slip."

"Ok.." said Gage, looking around the Victorian built looking buildings, bistros
and clifftop houses. "Uh,...Look, where exactly are we mister? I'm not familiar 
enough with Avalon to get around even with that cart you're loaning me."

"Listen, buddy, this road's Cabrillo Mole. To get to Fire Station 55, hang a right on
Crescent Avenue, left on Descanso Ave. Take that all the way to the end
until you reach Tremont Street. Hang an immediate right, then an immediate
left onto Avalon Canyon Road. Take that and go all the way past the golf course in
towards the interior's mountains.The fire station's white with mint green doors. 
There's a three tiered spanish adobe style fire bell tower to the west 
surrounded by plenty of palmettos near a sitting park. You can't miss it.
The fire chief's there with three captains, three engineers, three on
duty firefighters with the potential on-call crew of 25 more. Once they
know the problem, they can set off the fire siren to call em in. It'll go
on, then off again, and back on in a triplet of thirty second intervals 
once it's been committed. Mister, they can get one of Mercy Air's 
birds or the Coast Guard on the fly in seconds."

"How far is it?" asked Johnny.

"About four minutes. Less than twelve hundred feet if you put the cart's
petal to the metal. I'll run this way and notify the county lifeguards about
your friend.  Their office is at the end of my pier." he said pointing
to a Victorian stencilized sign that said, "Pleasure Pier." at the foot
of a green painted pier stretching out into Avalon Bay.

"Lifeguards? Must be one of my county's Baywatch teams.
I'm a paramedic. Who do they use for emergency communications
way out here?" 

"I think it's still the L.A.County Sheriff's dispatch."

"Thanks, mister, for the use of this. " said, Gage, accepting a key with a 
small rubber water float attached to it from the shop owner. "I gotta go."

"I've no doubt of that. Good luck finding your friend." shouted the local 
as Johnny climbed into the white and red cart and sped away.

"I'll let you know how it turns out.." Johnny promised with an urgent 
outstretched wave. 


-----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Chet grunted as he dragged Marco into a cave that he had found. For a travois,
he had used the nose frame of his glider as a drag. Lopez hung on for dear
life as he was thunked over rocks and boulders that littered the cave's floor.
"I started a fire. It's nice and cozy in here." he told Marco as he struggled
to pull him deeper into the cave. "All right.. Here. we go.." he grunted gain. 
"Ok.. I got you." he said as he finally got Marco next to the fitful blaze he 
had going in a rocky depression. "One, two, three.... ready?"

"Yeah.."

"Ok, I got ya." Kelly struggled over the last large rock in the way.

Lopez screamed in pain when Chet dropped his glider made
stretcher down too quickly over the last rock.
 
"There. Sorry.." Kelly said, collapsing onto his butt to rest.

Both men just rested for a while, breathing fast in the cold silence.

Marco readjusted painfully on the metal frame, trying to get pressure
off of his cracked ribs as a new layer of sweat built on his face.
"Oww,... Oh,.. man..."

Kelly, tried to catch his breath, too, and he wiped wind blown dirt
out of his eyes. "What'd ya think?" he said, sweeping a proud hand
over their little emergency camping area.

"I think it would be better if you put me over there...." said Marco
wearily, pointing a slow finger.

"Oh,, uh, what?" Chet exclaimed sarcastically.

"The other side of the fire. Yeah, that's better.." 

Kelly shook his head in disagreement, having come to the end of
his strength.

Marco picked up his head, getting anxious. "Well, the least you can do
is get branches and some bigger logs. This thing's only gonna
last about twenty minutes.." he complained, gesturing at the feeble
fire.

Chet finally let loose. "I found the cave. I built the fire. I know what I'm
supposed to put in it." he told Lopez sharply.

Marco blinked. "Why are you getting testy with me? I'm the one with
the broken leg and the snake bite here."

Chet stared incredulously at him as if he were some odd specie of 
fauna, with half guilty for backtalking and half not written all over his features.
"You're also the one with a strange way of showing your appreciation."

Lopez suddenly doubled up in pain, holding his left leg. "Oh, ugHH!"
he grimaced, holding it. His hands were trembling.

"What's the matter?" Kelly said, scrambling back over to Marco's side.

"The bite. I think it's...starting to go.....bad." he gasped.

Chet looked up at him, reaching down to touch a new area
of red skin on Marco's thigh. "Does this hurt?" 

"AckkKKK! Of course that hurts!" Lopez screamed at the lightest
brush of Chet's fingers.

Kelly whipped away the offending hand. "Ok, sorry. I'm sorry.. I had
to know."

Marco lowered back down onto his makeshift pillow, trying to
slow his breathing rate. "Is the swelling moving up my leg?"
he asked fearfully.

"Yep." Chet said, examining the skin by firelight. Then he shifted
his eyes upwards. "But your color's still good."

Lopez waved a weak hand over the tourniquet. "You gotta move
that thing."

"I know to move this thing." said Chet defensively, Marco's fear
rubbing off on him. "Ok, ok,.. I'm doing it.. ready?" he said, 
untying the knot of glider material banded around his calf.
Kelly slipped it higher up until it was above Marco's knee at
the thigh and then he retightened it.

Lopez bit his lip, stifling another scream.

"Ok,.. easy.. This tourniquet's gonna buy us some time,..
but I guess it can't last us forever.." Chet told him honestly.
"We're gonna get you outta here." he said. "We're
gonna get you outta here real soon.." he soothed.

Chet was startled when he didn't get a reply back. 

Kelly looked up, glancing at Lopez's damp face. "Marco?"

But Lopez didn't hear him.
Marco was shivering in a fitful half sleep, reacting to the 
surge of venom that had been re-released into his bloodstream,
and both of his hands were gripping the front of his shirt in a
paltry attempt to fend off the chill.

Chet took off his jacket, instantly chastizing himself 
for forgetting the most common way to treat shock 
as he used it to cover him up snuggly.

Kelly buttoned up his own shirt as high as it could go 
at the collar to conserve heat and he began to rub his arms 
briskly to try and warm them as the wind howled mournfully 
at the mouth of their tiny cave. He kept a few fingers on the rapid 
pulse beating at Marco's elbow to reassure himself that he
was still with the land of the living. 

"Hold on, pal. Help's gotta be on its way soon if it isn't already."
said Chet for his own ears' sake so he wouldn't start despairing.

----------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Photo:  Man down in a rocky gorge.

Photo:  Hang glider taking off.

Photo:  Avalon, CA at night.

Photo:  Casino Music hall and Baywatch lifeguard boat.

Photo:  The Avalon Fire Department

Photo:  Glider flying down to the ocean.

Photo:  A snake bit leg closeup.

Photo:  Chet and Marco lying down.

*********************************************************************   
From: Patti or Jeff or Cassidy <theaterhost@voyagerliveaction.com> 
Date: Mon Jun 5, 2006 6:35 pm 
Subject: Juxtaposition... 
  

Marco awoke to the sound of a stick snapping. 

He opened his eyes and found Kelly seated by a much 
larger fire, breaking a pair of green twigs into smaller pieces.
Chet smiled at him warmly. "I brought you a given special."
he said, handing over one of the toyon branches that he
had found. "Chew on that. It's got vitamins and minerals in
the bark. My dad showed me where to find these for a quick
snack while we were cattle rustling once in Wyoming." 

Lopez took the stick and noticed movement under the bright
green inner bark's layer. He peered a little closer. "It's got 
plenty of protein, too.There's a family of termites living in here."

Chet's eyes widened and he snatched back the branch in
horror and disgust. They were there. He felt like an *ss.
Angrily, he tossed the offending twig into the fire to burn
with the others.

Marco sighed and closed his eyes wearily. "How could you 
fly off.. to save me ...without bringing me any food, huh?"

Kelly told him how it was. "I had to choose between the medkit,
and a roast beef sandwich."

Lopez scoffed in his dilirium. "Yeah, right. Like a candy bar
really takes up a lot of room."

Chet got mad, his patience gone. "Remind me never to save 
you again..." he said defensively.

Marco lifted his head in amazement. "You call this a save?"
he asked with light sarcasm.

"I call this a save." said Chet firmly, holding his ground.

Lopez begged to differ, and he held up a dirty, waggling finger.
"No, no. I'll tell you what a save is. A save...is when I am
stretched out at home, in a warm bed, with lots of hot food
and lots of loved ones.." he winced. "...fussing over me. 
That's....a save." Then he relaxed back into a half state.

Kelly shook his head in annoyance, mumbling to himself
as he tended the fire. "I should have brought the roast beef
sandwich." 

--------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

It was morning, first light.

Chet was once again hard at work dragging Marco's makeshift
travois out of the cave and into the open to try and warm him in
the growing sunlight. It had been a rough night of pain for Lopez
when he often became lost in fevered nightmares.

The wind around them was anything but friendly. It was blowing 
hot, and wild, casting leaves, dust and insects into the air in
a flurry of swirls, with a roar.

Marco felt some flying sand sting his cheek and it triggered
a new surge of mindless anxiety in him. He began to struggle 
under Chet's coat as he grabbed at the glider straps holding 
him down. "We...gotta get outta here. We...g--" he sobbed.

Kelly gripped his arms tighter, afraid Marco was going
to hyperventilate himself into a blind panic. "Hold on. Hold on."
he said, grabbing both of Marco's hands into his own so that
he could feel them. "I'm right here, pal. Just try to relax..."

A part of Lopez heard him and he made a huge effort to slow
his rising breathing rate by tightening his crampy stomach muscles.
It worked. The wave of misery passed, leaving Lopez limp.

Kelly noticed that his eyes were starting to roll up into his head.
With a start, he grabbed for Marco's inner arm for another pulse 
check.

Lopez pulled his elbow away. "What are you doing? I'm ok.." 
he said self defensively.

"We're here. I need the practice." Chet told him with a soft 
but no-nonsense worry. 

Marco frowned, gasping, and he looked at the fingers gripping
his arm. He couldn't feel them. Scared, he let Chet get his count.
"Yeah." he agreed. "Do me a favor, would ya?"

"What?" Chet asked him, trying to smile.

"Watch out for Boot for me, ..will you?" Lopez whispered.

Kelly's face twisted in emotion and he looked away 
suddenly to hide the tears which sprang up unbidden.

Marco paled and he started to slip into unconsciousness.
"I'm just gonna take a little rest. Yeah,...take a little--" his voice
trailed off and his eyes closed. The brachial pulse under
Chet's hand disappeared.

Chet's despair returned full fold and he violently wiped away the
moisture in his eyes. He gave into crying eventually, staying silent 
so Lopez wouldn't know how frightened he was feeling.

Sniffling, Kelly moved his monitoring grip to Lopez's weak and 
thready carotid pulse as he scanned the sky desperately for signs 
of rescue.

----------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Captain Hank leaned into the Coast Guard pilot from where
he wore his communications helmet. "Let's go lower..."
he told him. "I don't understand it, we're not in darkest Africa.
Where the h*ll are they?"

The fierce wind blowing in from the dawn warming ocean bucked
and rocked the helicopter like a toy bobbling on a string.

The pilot shook his head. 

Johnny and Roy re-examined the map authorities had given them
of Catalina's terrain, tracing out another possibility and yet another
canyon that might be holding Chet's hang glider. They had
already located Marco's shredded one a half hour earlier.

Some of Avalon Fire Department's on-duty crew had remained behind 
in the forest to bag and carry out Kip the guide's body. 

"Cap, the prevailing winds yesterday were north by north west."
Johnny shared with him. "I got the weather report from the Sheriff's
office before we took off. Maybe if we travelled in a line downwind
from our campsite......"

"It's worth a shot." said DeSoto agreeing with his partner 
over their shared helmet frequency.

The pilot and Cap both nodded, redirecting the orange HH-65A 
Dolphin up and over the rise toward the dunes bed to the east.

-----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Chet lifted his head from where he cradled Marco, guarding his
airway.

He thought he had heard the unmistakable thwap of helicopter
blades fighting high winds.  He eased Lopez down off of his
lap and turned him onto his side so he could breathe without
his thickening tongue getting in the way.  

Hurrying, Kelly ran to where he had tethered his brightly colored
glider in the center of the tiny rock quarry.  He lit up the SOS he had
spelled out in termite infested toyon branches with a fire brand.

The insects and bark began to burn with thick smoke. It was inky black, 
caused by the chemicals in their bodies. The messaging 
column rose high into the air as an urgent signal sent on the wind.

Then Chet spotted them. A tiny, moving orange dot in a big blue sky....

"Here! Down here!" Chet shouted gleefully, waving his arms wildly.

--------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
Gage nearly jumped out of his seat. "There's Chet!" he yelled.
"I don't see Marco but he's got to be close by if Kelly made a
landing there to spend the night."

Stanley pressed his nose against the search window. "How
the h*ll did they get down there?" said Cap as he got a
better and better view of just how steep and small the gorge
they had found actually was. Hank tapped the pilot on 
the shoulder. "Bring it around.." Cap told him, pointing to the 
left in a downward gesture. "It's actually them this time."

--------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Kelly began leaping about ecstatically in celebration when he saw
the helicopter finally circle his location. "Yeah!  Yeah!" he shouted.

Then he ran back to wait with Marco while the others landed.

---------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Roy looked at one of the Avalon Baywatch guards wearing an
overland jumpsuit. "Would you mind at all if the two of us rappel 
down with the rest of you guys?" he said, indicating Johnny and 
himself.

Cap waited expectantly for the lifeguard captain's decision.

Lifeguard Paramedic Steve Troegger shook his head. "You're fully
qualified and technically still in your legal service area. I'm not 
gonna stop either one of you from doing whatever you want. I know 
how I'd react if that were one of my crewmates trapped down there.
Knock yourself out, fellas. The only stipulation is that you let
my paramedics treat any problems as they're the ones who're 
considered officially first in by the city."

"You are heading this rescue mission." said Gage with a smile.
"I promise. My partner and I'll just hover."

"Thanks, captain. We appreciate it." said Roy.

"Likewise.." answered Hank from his search window seat.

------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Chet crowed over the roar of the descending helicopter.
"Hang on, Marco. We're almost home!"

-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Stoker spoke into his radio to the hospital in town. "We've
spotted them. We're going in for a closer look."

##10-4, Medevac 1. Mercy Air will meet you at the airport for your
patient transfer. We'll be waiting. ## said a female voice over
the radio channel patched into their chopper cabin commline.
## Call us back when you have your initial patient report 
and I'll have Dr. Greene standing by. Avalon Municipal, out.##

Roy looked up at Mike. "Who was that?" he asked with genuine
surprise.

Stoker shrugged. "One of the nurses at the hospital I guess.
She said they still have two open beds available if we
need them."

Gage started chuckling. "I must be getting a little homesick. 
She sounded a lot like Dixie McCall."

The pilot spoke up. "Dixie McCall? Of Rampart General?"

"Yeah.. you know her?" Gage wondered.

"No, I know OF her, though. Through that RN you just heard. 
That nurse you just checked in with was the one and only one
we have on the island, Jo Swett. Jo talks about Dixie all the time. 
Seems they trained together in nursing school until Jo left
the mainland in 1966 to come here." he said.

"No kidding. Do they still keep in touch with each other?"

"I wouldn't know, boys. Probably not I'd guess. 
Head nurses are kept too busy to hang onto old connections
sometimes. Know what I mean?"

"Yeah, I know what you mean." Roy agreed.

"Ok, here comes the tricky part." said the pilot. "Everybody,
hang on. We're going in. It's bound to get a little bumpy.."

The coast guard chopper started to give away altitude, but
gust after gust of wind buffeted the sides of the craft, making
it rock and pitch with rolls and violent yawing.

The pilot decided not to make the attempt. "We can't land here.
The crosswinds are too strong. We'll land on the bluff. Avalon
FD can route our climbing gear to us there." 

The Baywatch and Station 51 crews all nodded. 

The helicopter stopped fighting for a level as the pilot
carried them back up into calmer air.

"This fire road ends in five hundred yards.." the coast guarder
said. "I'll land us at the top of the quarry. Then you can rappel
down."  Then he got on the radio to the island village's fire 
department; Avalon. "Meet us at coordinates 693 at 7-0."

##This is Chief Hoefs. I copy Medevac's rendevous point.## came 
the reply. ##Six, nine, three at seven oh.##

Hank met the Avalon Fire Department along with Baywatch
Avalon's Captain Troegger outside the waiting aircraft. Stanley 
filled them in after some short introductions. "They're at the 
bottom of a rock quarry. We can make it down the south face. Is
all the gear ready, sir?" he said, flashing his fire captain's
badge.

The fireman in charge of the equipment nodded. "Yeah." 
And he ran through a fast scene checklist. "Three five 
hundred length Borders?"

"Check." said another man.

"Slings?" asked the first.

"Check." said the second.

"And anchor points?"

"Check."

"All right, let's go." Avalon's fire chief ordered. "Troegger, head
both teams going down. I'll coordinate with Mercy and
relay your found patient ICR data to them."

"Right, Steve." said Troegger. 

Everybody who could gear up for the descent to come, did.

The rescue using ropes, began.

--------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Chet held Marco's head as he struggled to awaken, and talked
to him. "Hang in there. I can see Roy and Johnny coming fast
for us, pal." he said, keeping his eye on the rocks above. 
"It won't be long now at all."

---------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Baywatch Avalon's team along with Roy and Johnny, made
bottomfall.

They disconnected the stokes litter from the guide rope it
was tied to and all six of them ran over to where they could
see Kelly's form bending over something.

Roy shouted. "Chet! Where's Marco?"

"Right here. With me!"

The two on the lifeguard crew who were paramedics nudged
between Roy and Johnny apologetically when they all got
there. 

Johnny asked Kelly. "How's he doing?"

Chet answered very eagerly. "Blood pressure's low. Snake bite's 
been swelling up for the last couple of hours. He's got at least
two broken ribs.... And that.." he said, pointing to the leg split.

Troegger nodded as his medic partner assessed Marco's 
breathing after he had applied some oxygen from his backpack.
"Neck? Back?"

Kelly shook himself out of a daze of relief at being found. "Uh,,
They seem ok." he said with a nod of dismissal.

Troegger directed a lift to get Lopez into the stokes from off
the glider travois. "Ready on three..." he said.

Roy, Johnny, and the others all grabbed belt loops, shorts
material, shoulders, and head for the move.

Johnny snuck in a pulse check from his place at Marco's
neck. "It's 130..but nice and regular.." he reported. "Man,
is this poison oak?" he asked Troegger, gesturing down at
Marco's legs and arms and face.

"Yeah, it grows all over the island. It was unintentionally introduced
by ranchers growing hay. Don't touch him too much or you'll itch 
for weeks later." said the Baywatch paramedic in warning.
"Ready to lift? On three...." he skipped counting 1 and 2 and went
straight to 3 to spare Marco the wait. "Three.." he said, and Marco
was moved.

Pain roused Lopez out of his stupor. "AHHhhhhhh..! " he groaned..
Then he grunted, trying to hide how much he was hurting from
the others. "Nggnnn." he grimaced as he was settled and covered
with a tarp in the stokes. 

Soon they were at the top and paused for an I.V. start
and a hefty MS injection.

"Hey, Cap.." Lopez said after a fast flow of electrolytes had
sharpened his awareness back to near normal.

"Hey, Marco.." said Hank happily. "Don't worry. We
rescued your glider. Won't cost you a dime to replace
it at the rental place since you were with their guide
when you crashed."

"I'm sorry he died. He seemed like he would have
been a really fun guy to hang out with..." quipped Marco 
in a morbid joke. 

Johnny groaned at the pun that he himself had used the 
day before.

Cap, Stoker, Roy and Chet all smiled at that sign of
returning vigor.

"Hey, Chet.." Lopez whispered.

Kelly knelt near, giving Marco a couple of raised eyebrows
to show that he was paying attention. "Hmm.."

"Thanks.." Marco said, and meaning it.

Kelly smiled, his face so full of emotion, that it made his eyes
almost start to water again.

Lopez cleared some phlegm out of his throat uncomfortably
at the intense warm scrutiny by which he was being regarded.
"What are you waiting for? An invitation?" he mock snapped
at Roy and Johnny to get him going to the hospital.

----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

At Avalon Municipal, Roy and Johnny had their eyes opened
when they finally met Head Nurse Jo Swett in what served as
the hospital's trauma receiving. 

She was unique, in all respects. And the doctor heading
her was equally interesting to Roy and Johnny. 

Gage and DeSoto were eager to learn more about them now
that Marco had been stabilized and treated for his injuries.

---------------------------------------------------------------------

Photo:   The catalina coast. 

Photo: Air station L.A.

Animation: Willow Creek falls.

Photo:  A Catalina rattlesnake.

Photo:  Chet's hang glider guide, Kip.

Photo:  Catalina avalon FD truck.

Photo:  Baywatch Avalon paramedic chopper.

Photo:  Baywatch lifeguard paramedic.

Photo:  Chopper fly over cliff.

Photo:  Roy with stokes in a cliff climb.

Photo:  Marco down getting treated by gang.

Photo:  Catalina Avalon Municipal hospital. 
             (Real life Midway Island Hospital. Circa 1944.)
   
**************************************************
From: Patti or Jeff or Cassidy <theaterhost@voyagerliveaction.com> 
Date: Thu Jun 8, 2006 3:09 am 
Subject: That Small Town Charm..


That was once they got over the fact that Avalon's hospital only
had twelve patient beds.

Dr. William Greene nodded at his head nurse. "Jo,..I'm ordering
up these lab studies on Mr. Lopez :  A CBC with manual differential 
and peripheral blood smear, a prothrombin time and activated 
partial thromboplastin time, along with a fibrinogen and split products 
test. Get a type and cross and blood chemistries, including electrolytes, 
BUN, creatinine. We'll need to get a urinalysis to check for myoglobinuria
and an arterial blood gas determination since he's feeling some
systemic symptoms. Besides that leg, please order up a baseline chest 
radiograph, I found some mild P.E. Oh, and a plain radiograph to rule 
out any retained fangs."

"I'll get right on it. And I'll be right back with all of you boys." said the 
silver haired round nurse named Jo Swett as she picked up a phone to
call the hospital's on duty pink lady to handle getting the needed 
specimen samples Bill had ordered.

Roy and Johnny's eyebrows went up completely when she recited
Greene's verbatim word for word to her staffer without scribbling 
down a single note.

"How'd you do that?" Gage sputtered when she was through.
He immediately checked himself in embarrassment at being so
blunt. "I mean,.. remember what he ordered so well."

Jo smiled. "I've been doing this a long time. Since 1966, Mr. Gage.
And in the early days, we didn't have computers and even now we
don't have student nurses to transcribe any orders down as they're 
given. It's just me to make due." 

Roy turned back to Dr. Greene who was washing his hands clean 
in a sink behind his nurse. "So how's he doing, doc? The rest of the
fellas over there and I really want to know." he said throwing
a hand at the others seated in a small waiting area. He watched
as the doctor peered around the x-ray machine getting wheeled 
in for Marco's use.

Greene grabbed up a blue surgical towel to dry off. "Well, the
guilty culprit who bit your friend has definitely been identified as 
a Pacific rattler. And we all know that in 80% of cases, their bites
are usually dry and harmless. I ordered those tests just as a
precaution."

That got Chet's attention from the chair he sat in nearby. 
"You mean, he's not gonna need any antivenin? What about
all that swelling and the fever he had going last night?"

"That was poison oak exposure and what I think is a simple
fibula fracture working." said the doctor. "Those were purely 
reflex immunological responses. Nothing else."

Kelly went limp against the medical desk in obvious relief.

"That's great." said Captain Stanley. "So how long
will Marco have to stay here? You see, we're on vacation
and--"

Bill smiled, looking fatherly. "Captain, all of my patients with
the exception of a rare winter local or two, are tourists like yourself.
I assure you Mr. Lopez will be tied up only long enough to be fitted 
for a walking cast and an application of hydrocortisone for his rash. 
His vital signs are very normal now."

"Really?" asked Stoker.

Bill nodded. "I'll get right back to you folks as soon as
I get a little repair work done. Up there.." he said pointing
to the ceiling.

Johnny's eyebrows went up.

Greene explained. "The city wanted someone doctoring
on the island, if a tile breaks on the roof, who would be up 
there in his boots, hammering. I have many different hats.
I'm Avalon Municipal's CEO, doctor, city official and
general handyman. Nine years ago, my wife Trish and I 
had our belongings hauled here on a barge when I took
this job. And since then, I've never looked back to the mainland. 
I love it here.  We have our usual small town challenges. 
Avalon has 4,200 permanent residents, all of whom pick up their mail 
at a central post office and go days without milk or 
bread whenever storms prevent shipments from the mainland. 
And I usually take my house calls on a golf cart as I'm the only full 
time physician on staff."

Roy and Johnny blinked skeptically.

"Don't worry." he told the two paramedics."When it's gets busy, 
we have four temporary physicians, who rotate in from the mainland 
every five,six, or seven days. Usually, that's not necessary though 
since we at the hospital average only about two patients a day."

Cap gaped. "Why that's hardly enough to cover your
overhead costs." he exclaimed in surprise.

Greene nodded, taking up a coffee pot and holding it
out for the others in invitation. Only Chet accepted a cup.
"I have a 10-by-10-foot office at the far end of the hospital with 
one administrative assistant helping me manage things. Last
year, we had more than $2 million dollars worth of services 
that had gone uncollected."

"Why's that?" Roy asked.

"The city runs all potential critical patients to the mainland, once
they've been stabilized here, by helicopter. Trip takes
about thirty minutes. And the ruling about state sales taxes
being 30% higher on the island only puts a dent into 
our budget deficit because in the winter, our population dwindles
down to just a few, like any other tourist town along the coastline,
and their potential revenue leaves with them. But we're making 
good headway." Greene said. "We've just about gotten through 
a huge pile of old bills that had been sitting on the office floor for 
the past six months.'' he winked. "Excuse me. But a storm's
coming. I've that roof to see to next. Ask Jo for absolutely anything 
you need, and it'll be done." he winked. "I'll catch up
more with you when I get back."

The gang waved and then got a hold of their mutual collective 
head shakes of wonder and amazement. 
 
Chet leaned into the counter and sagged almost
nose to nose with their nurse. "So, Ms. Swett, how did such
an attractive nurse like you get to end up here? The Coast 
Guard pilot seemed to know a lot about you and a mutual friend 
of ours."

"Oh, you mean Dixie? How's she doing? It's been a few months
since we've exchanged letters." answered Jo, not buying one
minute of Chet's Don Juan-ing bull.

"She's fine. She's fine. Still at it at the front desk of the
emergency room." Gage told her empathetically. "But
how come she's never mentioned ya to us?"

"Maybe that's because we get along so famously. Dixie usually
only grouses about people who've irked her in some way
to her friends."

Roy started grinning. "Dr. Morton, Dr. Brackett.. that high
powered administrator upstairs...." he listed off. "That's true."

Jo laughed and took a deep breath. "Actually Mr. Kelly,
I saw a want ad that changed my life. What I was doing 
with Dixie in pediatrics at Rampart wasn't what I wanted to do." 
she said. "I grew up in Boston, so the idea of moving to an island 
was interesting. Here I can provide in-home care to a variety of 
patients, and I simply love the night shift. I figure I am the only nurse 
in the whole United States who works all by herself at night.
I get up in daylight for emergencies, like yours today."

"Is Avalon Municipal a full service hospital?" asked DeSoto.

"Oh, sure. We can do tonsillectomies, hernia repairs, 
hysterectomies and gall bladder surgeries, minor trauma
repair. The surgeons fly in from St. Mary's and bring their own 
anesthesiologists. Usually the local doctor, Bill Greene, is the 
assistant." she said proudly with amusement. 
"And when we're having a baby, I like to go around 
to the other patients and I ask them, 'Are you going to need anything, 
we're going to have a baby now.' And once the baby's born 
I love taking the infant on rounds to meet the other patients while 
the mother's recovering." 

Johnny chuckled. "Do you get many emergency cases in any
given year."

"Oh, yes.." said Jo empathetically. "Especially in the summer.
Like now. Recently we've had a lot of cases like Mr. Lopez's."

"Really.." said Hank. "I thought our man's rescue was highly unusual."

Jo shrugged. "People seem to fall prey to the James Bond syndrome
when they get here; what else can I say? Everybody gets the feeling 
that they're invincible while they're diving or flying Catalina. I've never 
understood that effect. But I appreciate that it pays my salary." she
laughed. "The pace is slow, with the upgrades in my training and visiting 
patients, I'll admit. But there's a certain charm here that I've since fallen 
in love with. I didn't learn how to do an IV until 1970, but now I've lifeguard
paramedics to rely on.  I enjoy what I do I've no plans to retire anytime 
soon for there's a record I want to hold first - Oldest Working Nurse in 
California."

"So, are you gonna make it?" Chet quipped daringly.

Hank smacked his arm, right on the sunburned spots. 

"Oww!" Chet protested.

Jo only smiled, used to firefighters' antics. "There are one or two who 
are older," she said. "I just hope they retire before I do."

Mike Stoker had wandered over to the baby window, noticing a
single infant sleeping in an incubator, on an ekg machine. 
It was only then that the others noticed a sound monitor turned on
at Jo's desk near her hand. A contented coo issued from it.

Curious, the gang joined him to see the baby.

"Aww, she's cute. Where's her mother?" Stoker asked Jo, who
had followed them over.

"She doesn't have one." said Jo simply.

The look on the gang's faces registered incomprehension.

"Baby Jane was left at our fire department steps about a day 
after she was born." Jo told them quietly.

Chet soured. "But who could just up and leave a newborn like
that. That's...that's...insane..!" he finally said.   

"Not really. Ever heard of the Safe Surrender law just passed
this year in the state of California?" Swett said.

The gang shook their heads no.

"The City of Avalon is ready to accept unwanted newborns and get 
them into safe hands. No questions asked. If the mother does the right 
thing and gets her baby to a designated safe surrender location within 
72 hours of birth, there will be no shame, no blame, no names and there 
will be no prosecution. The Avalon Fire Department is a vital link in 
a strategy to create a countywide safety net of Safe Surrender locations
so underpriviledged babies won't ever have to suffer their parents 
socio-economically suppressed lifestyles."

Roy was the only one who understood those ramifications. "There is
a need for it. I'm glad such a law exist now, for sometimes, Johnny
and I treat those kids and babies. And everytime, we've felt
helpless that there wasn't anything further we could do for the mother
after she signed off on our run sheet simply because she knew 
she couldn't ever pay our ambulance costs."

The gang spent a warm few minutes playing with the soon
to be named baby girl until Marco was declared ready for visiting.

A half hour had gone by with everybody eating breakfast spread
out over Marco's bed inside of his curtain cubicle, when Bill
returned with his results.

"Marco.." said Dr. Greene. "You're fine. Your bloodwork's peachy
king and your cast, perfect. But I wouldn't recommend you fellas
returning to your campsite just yet. There's a storm approaching.
I'm offering my house to all of you for sheltering while I'm working 
here tonight. Jo and I might get a few emergency cases coming from
the water. Tourist boat outfitters always get a little stupid in 
squalls like this.  And it looks like this one's going extratropical."

"Oh, no.." said Hank. "You mean like the Columbus Day storm
of 1962 that started as Hurricaine Freida?"

"I'm afraid so."

Stanley stepped forward and briskly shook Bill's hand.
"Doc, I appreciate it. We'll definitely take you up on
that offer. But now we've got to go. We've family out flying 
at the airport."

"Who?" asked Jo.

DeSoto frowned. "My father and son. Let's hope they both don't think
that they can outfly it like James Bond."  

--------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

The gang was halfway to the tiny terminal tower on the mountain
when the rain began. Doctor Green suddenly came over their
hand held VHF radio.. ##The storm's definitely going to hit 
Avalon. The fire department advises no travel.##

"We'll be careful.." Cap promised him.

Roy studied the sky that was still half clear from where he
sat in the shuttle. "Where are they? How could they miss
seeing a cloud that big?"

"I don't know the answer to that, Roy. But I promise you, we'll
find out once we get there, one way or the other.." said Hank.
 
---------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- 

Photo: Avalon Muncipal Hospital. 

Photo: Avalon hospital evac. 

Photo:  Dr. William Greene's life picture series. 

Photo: Dr. William Greene's life picture series 2. 

Photo: Catalina ambulance cart. 

Photo:  gang watches through window in street clothes. 

Photo: Nurse Jo Swett and associate. 

Photo: Building Catalina storm fog.

**************************************************
From: Patti or Jeff or Cassidy <theaterhost@voyagerliveaction.com> 
Date: Thu Jun 8, 2006 1:39 pm 
Subject: Final Scene: Storms and Waters... 


"Twice in one day? You're starting to make my boys smile, Captain
Stanley.." said Chief Hoefs as he climbed down off of his station's
fire truck as it arrived to the tarmack at the Airport In The Sky.

Hank shrugged. "What's sharing little business between firemen, eh?" 
he joked. But then his face transmuted into intense worry.

Mike Stoker offered the chief an update.
"Sir, Chris DeSoto's been talking to us over the plane's radio."

"How far are out are they?" Hoefs asked seriously.

Roy added more. 
"My father's really got his hands full with just flying so that's
why my son's been the one doing all the radio contact.
Chris says they're about five miles to the west, northwest,
flying through an active thunderhead. They've lost power due
to a lightning strike and they've two failed engines."

"Do they still have fine control?" asked Hoefs. 

"Their wing and tail flap hydraulics are all still reactive." DeSoto
said.

Hank shouted over the powerful, wind gusting rainfall 
that was turning Catalina gray and frightening around them. 
"LAX says that they're in a good power-off glide back to the island. 
They were following the shortest route from Long Beach while 
over water, to see Land's End which Chris said was mapped 
in a flight plan of twenty two nautical miles."

Steve thought hard, trying to remember some facts about flying small aircraft.
"The midway point of that route would be 11 NM. If your pilot remembered to
check the performance chart for your airplane and see which altitude gave
him a power-off gliding distance of 11 NM or greater, they should make back
here, ok. "

"That's if they remembered to factor in the headwind component." said 
Stanley.

"Boy are we lucky they filed a flight plan with a request for VFR flight 
following." said Roy. "LAX got their distress call right away and put
them on immediate priority."

"Where are they showing up on the mainland radar?" Hoefs asked.
 
Roy shrugged his shoulders."I can't recall all the jargon, but
a minute ago, Chris said he could see the lights of Two Harbors 
at the isthmus."

"Then they're eight minutes out, tops. We'll be ready. Best
of luck, Hank." Hoefs said, crossing the fingers on his fire gloves.
"Here's to talking them down successfully." said the yellow and tan
outfitted fireman.

"Piece of cake." said Hank with very sound, positive feeling while
he gave his counterpart a resounding thumbs up. "See you when 
they touch down."

Steven Hoefs jogged away and began barking orders to his men to 
string hoses from a ground hydrant located near the airport building, 
mated to a small foam unit. Soon, a thick blanket of suppressant lay 
in a slurry across many dozens of feet along the terminal end of the 
high altitude scrubland runway. 

Luckily, the rising storm winds didn't blow any of it away.

Then the Avalon firecrew set about laying two rows of cherry flares to
illuminate the full length and stretched outline of the rocky runway. 
They were so bright, that the even the storm fierce night lit up
in a brillant red glow from their multiple burning brands.

Johnny Gage had borrowed county turnout from Station 55 as had
the rest of them, and he used a brainstormed idea of climbing the back 
of a nearby parked airplane to gain a better vantage point of the odd
downsloping runway 22 through his binoculars. He shouted down to
the others. "I don't see them yet, Cap. Chris's turned on the cabin
lights so we can spot them a little better."

"Keep looking." said Stanley. "Give us the play by play, Johnny, over
your radio so Roy'll know what to tell them as help while they're 
attempting to land. Some of their cockpit instruments may have been 
knocked out, too, and nonfunctional!"

##Dad, I'm scared.## boomed out Chris's voice over the fire engine 
speaker that Hoefs had tandem tuned into the plane's radio frequency
and put out over the loud speaker so that all of his men could hear 
the plane.

Roy held up his plastic coated VHF Radio set to Unicom's frequency
that was connecting all of them to Ian DeSoto's cockpit. "Chris, we're all 
right here with ya. And yes, the fire department's all set up and waiting for 
both of ya to stick the best possible landing you can." encouraged DeSoto, 
who tried very hard to not to let his voice tighten with emotion to where it 
would be audible to his son.

##Is the storm growing worse?## 

"Yeah, Chris. I'm afraid it's....it's pretty bad fairly close to us
to the east because we're so high up on top of the mountain." Johnny 
said in his own handheld receiver.

##Dad,.. I think grandpa's not telling me something. I think he's been hurt
by a panel overload and isn't telling me.## said the teenager. ## I think I 
see a burn on his palm that wasn't there before we took off.##

"How's his consciousness level?" asked Roy, biting his lip.
::If Ian blacks out..:: he quailed.

##He's still talking, but we're wavering all over the place. And he's
sweating. Kinda pale.##

"Hang on, Chris. We're gonna come up with a backup plan for you.."
s0aid Roy. "You just try to keep Grandpa focused, all right?"

Then he, Cap, Stoker and Avalon's fire chief fell into hurried discussion
about other options for landing. Roy signaled up to Johnny with
his arms outstretched like wings and waggled them into firm stillness
like he was steadying himself.

Johnny got that idea right away.
Gage spoke up. "Listen, Chris.. can you at least take over the
plane's leveling handles? You're almost scot free. Ian can 
probably still do the rest of the hard parts."

##I....can...## grunted Ian DeSoto through the radio. ##Not much
...lightning....got to me....## gasped his strained voice.

Chris's voice came back on. ##Grandpa's showing me how
to steady the wings, Dad. I think I can do this...## he said excitedly.

"I know you can, son." said Roy empathetically, letting the rain wash
away a tear of fright.

Johnny began signalling away from his radio mic. "I see em! But
there's a problem.. They're approaching us going the wrong way
in relation to the runway. About two miles out."

The Chief issued another fast set of orders. "Boys, lay the other
end in foam. Fast as you can. Their pilot's probably reversed his 
landing to try and handle all this fouling weather to get the best 
advantage. Move!" he said crisply.

The fire truck crew hastened to carry them out. Soon, the second
location for foamed countermeasures was ready with yet another
team of firefighters held at hose charged readiness.

At the same time, Johnny yelled again. "I lost sight of the plane.
A cloud bank's rolled in! I'll try to find em again."
 
Hoefs smiled under his water cascading helmet. "Your father's
a smart man, DeSoto. He's getting the airport cliff's wind shear 
quirk out of the way first. Don't worry about medical gear for him.
We've plenty for you and your partner to use."

Roy kept running cardiac anomaly scenarios through his head
despite the Chief's kind reassurances.

##I see you!## said Chris suddenly as the stricken, silent plane
burst through a black fold in the storming clouds with a crack
of thunder, illuminated by lightning flash.

"I've a positive visual! They're right on track!" Gage said at the
same time.

"Thank G*d they've run the gauntlet over that cliff ok.." sighed
Roy. Then he picked up his radio. "How are the two of you doing, 
Chris? Talk to me.."

There was no reply.

"Chris?!" Roy said sharply. "Can you hear me?"

He received nothing but static over the radio. Frustrated,
Roy let the radio fall away from his mouth. With nothing else 
possible for him to do, Roy felt his eyes glue to the storm 
silhouetted outline of white aircraft that Johnny was pointing to 
that was careening in jerks as it came down out of the sky.

All the fireman froze in place as the next few seconds determined
the make or break of imminent disaster.

The little cessna's wheels touched down dead center of the
cherry flares and absolutely parallel with their glowing white
smoke sputtering rows. 

Roy, Johnny, Cap and the others began cheering as they leaped
onto Avalon's fire engine to rush down the runway after them.

A minute later, the cessna was dead stopped and safe.

Roy climbed onto the little plane's wing and pulled the door
open. Chris had had the foresight to start Ian on the aircraft's
tiny oxygen supply in a first aid attempt. "How's he doing?"

Chris answered. "He was just awake and talking
to me, Dad, I don't understand it."

"Dad?" asked Roy, "Can you hear me?" he shouted frantically 
as he scrambled on board. He dug a grip around Ian's neck
feeling for a carotid. "Can you breathe all right?"

The older man didn't move..

But then, Ian nodded, and took another solid deep breath under
the oxygen's flowing face mask. And for show, he moved all of 
his arms and legs normally.

DeSoto sighed in relief when his fingers found a very regular
and uncomplicated heartbeat down to the wrist. "No kerauno- or 
respiratory paralysis is present. Not even slightly, Johnny. Let's get 
him outta here and into the ambulance." he sighed in relief. Then he 
looked over at his son proudly. "You did a good job, Chris. A very 
good job."

"I didn't do anything, Dad. Grandpa did all the work. I just helped
him out a little bit with all the levelling."

"Yeah, well that little bit saved you both. I'm proud of ya. We all
are. Come on out of there so Johnny can get to work starting
Dad's I.V. here. I've got someone I'd like you to meet outside."

"Who is he, Dad?" Chris wondered.

"Just think of him as Captain Stanley's island counterpart." he
grinned. "Only a rank up. We owe him a very large favor for
being here for us today. Twice, for that matter." he admitted.

"Why twice, Dad? And where's Marco? I don't see him anywhere
out there."

"Well, Chris. That's a very long story. It just so happens those
two facts are concurrent. I'll tell you once we're all warm, dry 
and comfortable at our new host, Dr. Greene's house."

"Ok.."

Hank Stanley came over just then, grinning. "Hey Roy, would
you take a look at that? Guess what kind of ambulance they
sent up here to meet us.."

"What is it?" asked DeSoto, opening up his father's shirt collar
a little wider as he peered out through the rain showered windshield.

"It's a 1959 ...Catalina..." Stanley elaborated.

"Well, I'll be." chuckled DeSoto, laughing out loud.

------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

The storm raged through most of the night, pounding Avalon Harbor
and doing its best to damage infrastructure. But no more crises 
developed. The weather warnings put out by the county had done
their job of keeping all of Catalina Island's tourists and locals safe.

Chet came out of the bedroom of Dr. Greene's cliffside house
and marvelled at the view glowing in a brilliant sunny dawn
splendor just beyond the glass panes framing the many windowed 
living room space. "Wow, this is the life. No wonder Bill bought
land way up here. He's got this place laid out like a mountainside
ski chalet. Although it would've completed the illusion
if we had some serious snowing going on." Kelly sighed, putting
his hands on his hips.

"That storm we didn't sleep through last night was more than
enough for me, Chet. You can keep your snow." said Roy as he 
rebound his father's electrical burn. "How's that, not too tight?"

"It's fine, son. And yes, my headache's gone, too." said Ian, still loafing in
an opulent leather recliner. "Once you two annoying paramedics
decide you're done fussing with Marco and I, go out and have a little
fun, huh?"

"Who's fussing?" said Johnny as he finished pulling a blood pressure
cuff of Marco's arm. "We're only following Bill's orders to make
sure you two relax enough to start healing properly." Gage said
drolly.

Ian ignored him. "And take Chris with you. Show him a good time for me.
I gotta find some way to thank him for saving me."

"Oh, Grandpa.." exclaimed Chris in his warm teenaged baritone.

Lopez jumped on the bandwagon.
"Yeah, guys. We'll both manage. Can't say we're not in the lap of luxury
here in the house. Wide screen TV, a wet bar, a jacuzzi..."

"Not in that cast.." Gage shook a finger at him.

"Johnny, I was only kidding about the whirlpool. I do know better."
Marco frowned, taking another sip of his iced tea. "And if
we get tired we can always go out onto the deck and nap in the sun."

Roy and Johnny looked around their rich, airy surroundings
skeptically, but finally, in the end, they relented. "Fair enough.
Ok, we'll go." said Cap for the rest of them.

"Take plenty of pictures for us. Then we'll have something to
look at for this day we're missing..." said Marco empathetically
as the guys and Chris trudged out the door with full sets of 
waving hands.

"We will.." they said.

--------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

The gang was settled happily. They were enjoying a
beach picnic at Parsons Landing while they lazily watched a scuba
boat conducting its tourist pair through a diving experience
just past the surfline.

Chet's sunburn had reached the peeling stage and he absently
scratched while he munched away on five legs of Stoker's fried 
chicken. "Umm, Mike. Excellent as usual.... Say, guys, maybe we
should make him cook chicken on a BBQ outside when we get home
when it's his turn to cook again back at the station. 
Maybe we'll be able recreate today's dream feast if we do that."

"Not in a million years.." said Stoker. "I hate getting smoke in my
eyes without a good reason for it."

"Spoken like a true veteran firefighter.." chuckled Cap.

Roy smiled. "So, Chet, what's on the agenda for today? We've
already tried hang gliding.. What's next?"

"Surfing lessons.."

"Surfing lessons? Are you out of your everloving mind?!" roared
Hank. "There's still massive storm surge out there. You like
the idea of drowning in it?" 

"No one's gonna drown, Cap. Johnny and I just wanna park on
our stomachs on top of our boards and--"

"Gage,..you didn't encourage him on this, did you?" Stanley asked,
redirecting his instant ire.

"Uh,..." Johnny stopped chewing his potato salad.

Chris began to giggle, pointing at Gage from where he
said on their medical bag.

Kelly thrust Johnny out further along the limb.
"He sure did. You see, Gage thought it would be less risky for
us to swim today than to try flying anything after the experiences 
we've had to live through during the last two days." said Chet.

"Thanks a lot.." hissed Johnny through his teeth at Chet.

Kelly ignored him and took another sip of Diet Rite.

"Nope. I forbid it." Hank said evenly. 

"You can't do that to us, Cap.. we're on vacation.." Gage protested.
"We're not at the station for you to have the power to order
us around."

"I'm not doing any forbidding because of how we usually work
together while on the time clock. I'm putting my foot down because 
the two of you forgot something very fundamental about our
outing today."

"Oh, yeah?" Johnny asked, still a little stung. "And what's that?"

Both Roy and Cap said the same thing at the same time.
"A permit. "

Chet and Johnny both looked at each other wanly. 

Roy elaborated. "You need one to enter the water for any 
kind of ocean activity here. It's in the park rules. See?"
he said handing over a pamphlet. "Just read here by
the number six."

Gage snatched it out of his hands, reading fast in irritation,
with an equally miffed Chet, reading over his shoulder.
In a few seconds, Johnny balled up and threw the park
guidelines away over his head in disgust.

"No littering's allowed either.." said Hank matter of fact,
with a neutral grin, pointing absently at the wad spinning
in the sand in the wind.

Chet pinned the pale yellow paper down onto the sand 
with a newly flaking bare foot before an arriving
gust could blow it away, and just glowered.

--------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- 

Deep under the water, a diving instructor was doing a head
count of his two tourist students while they explored a thick 
kelp forest that was rising up from the rocky floor thirty feet 
below. Their flipper strokes were lazy.  
:: All normal. These two catch on fast.:: he thought. ::Ahhh, 
so it's gonna be easy fee earning today. Cool..:: 

He had just looked at his watch to time their remaining 
regulator air when the man of the couple suddenly fell
motionless to the bottom. ::Oh, sh*t..:: thought the instructor
and he dove down to where the woman was panicking 
below as she gestured at her arms and legs still husband.

The instructor pulled the woman away from the man's
face plate after making sure she had her own air still safely
in her own mouth. He peered at the man's face through his
mask. His eyes were open and dulled in a thousand-yards
stare. ::He's out...::

The instructor dropped the man's weight belt completely
off and then the woman's and his own as he grabbed the 
unconscious husband around the chest for an emergency
ascent to the surface. As he kicked himself and his victim
upward, he kept looking down to make sure that the woman 
was following them. ::We'll make it fine here without a 
decompression stop. We've only been down ten minutes.::

What he didn't know what that the couple had been diving
the morning before with another dive company at depths 
below sixty feet. Unbeknownst to him, serious problems for 
them were already starting.

He got to the surface, tore off the husband's mask, and listened
at his nose and mouth for any signs of breathing. He found none.
Immediately, he began mouth to mouth on the man as he
swam him rapidly into the shore.

The wife's head broke the surface a few breaths later
and she began to scream, not for her drowned husband, but
for the sudden cramps which were knotting up all of her limbs 
at the major joints. The instructor grabbed her by the hair with
his other hand and began shouting for help at the people he 
saw lounging on the beach..

-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Chris looked up at a sudden shouting from the water. 

Other people in black wets suits and other private 
diving parties had heard it, too, for they began running as 
fast as they could for the foaming surfline. "Dad! Those
three out there are in trouble!" he said pointing out to sea.

"Grab the medical bag, Chris. Bring it with you.." said DeSoto,
leaping to his feet. 

Johnny started to say something, too. "Cap--"

"I know.. Call for help, then grab both oxygen cylinders from
the golf cart. Just get going!" he said, sending Chet along with
them.

Just ahead, they could see a dive instructor dragging a man,
divested of his scuba gear, through the violent surf while 
keeping up his steady artificial respiration. 

The worst victim's color now, was turning blue. 

Gage and Chet ran for him first while a civilian diver from the beach met
up with the struggling second woman fighting the waves a little distance 
away from the others. He picked her up and carried her into shore by piggy 
back.

She went limp in relief as he got hold of her. 

"I got her head." said Roy, reaching him. "Let's get her laid out 
flat on the sand. Raise her feet up as soon as you can."

"Are you a doctor?" asked the woman's rescuer.

"No. We're all firemen. Myself and my partner over there
are paramedics. We can treat them until help arrives using our 
emergency medical kits." DeSoto said, helping the man get her 
out of the water.

----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

The instructor collapsed in exhaustion onto the beach, but waved
Chet away briskly when he saw that Kelly had started over to his side. 
"Just help the diver guy. I'm...ok." he gasped.

Kelly rejoined Johnny over the unconscious man's body. Gage looked
up at him. "He's got no pulse either. Start on him first, Chet. Chris's coming
with an oxygen tank." he said, unzipping the husband's wetsuit to
locate a fast compression landmark. He began some solid CPR.

Kelly stayed on the diver's mouth to mouth, pausing only to drain seawater 
out of the man's nose when whenever it welled up and out of him. Chet noticed
that it was laced with bright blood and pink foam. "He's lung injured, Johnny. If
it's barotrauma or just water inundation, I can't tell."

"Doesn't matter. Just .....keep going. That's not going to........be his only......
problem here." he grunted as he worked. "We've got to.....assume he's
developed....the bends... I think his wife... has, too." he said, looking up 
at Roy where he and Hank knelt in the sand. 

He saw that DeSoto had raised the woman's feet up high on his medical 
pack despite her difficult breathing. ::He's trying to keep nitrogen bubbles 
from traveling up into her brain or heart.:: he thought. Then Johnny 
couldn't afford to consider the other things any more while he concentrated 
on keeping the stricken diver under his hands circulation viable long enough 
for the coming slim chance that a lifeguard's defibrillator might shock 
him back to life.

Dimly, he was aware of Cap relaying to a Baywatch crew and the Coast
Guard, their camping coordinates using VHF Channel 16 over their 
ever present hand held radio. ::We're getting into a habit here with 
calling out for help all the time on vacation now, aren't we?:: his mind 
thought ironically.

----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Roy was smiling at the woman while Cap gently dissuaded her from
pulling off her flowing oxygen mask. "Maam, we're working on your
friend now. He's out of the water. I need you to answer a
few questions for me while I check you out here to determine
your true condition. I'm Roy, a paramedic with the county, and this 
is my fire station's captain, Hank Stanley. Can you tell me who you 
and your friend are at all?" he asked her.

The frightened woman yelled out a reply. "God I hurt!.. Make it stop.
I...can't....br--"

"Easy. Just try to relax. Help's on the way, ma'am." Stanley told her
while he quickly dug a hole for her head so that it would tip
backwards a bit into the sand so that she could breathe a little
better. "There. It'll be easier now. Try to answer Roy again. He 
needs to know how you're doing, ms., in order to treat you using
the best way possible."

The woman began trembling under their hands, but she started 
talking to them a few seconds later. "My ....name's Callie Johnson. 
That's ...*gasp* Scott, my...my......uh,...we're m - married.." she
got out. 

"Ok, good, Callie." said Roy, taking her pulse and respiration count.
When he was through, he asked, "Mrs. Johnson. Can you tell me 
where you are?"

"B--beach. I'm at the..beach." she cried.

"That's right. And what day is it?" Cap asked her, helping 
Roy with gathering details while the paramedic took a fast 
set of bilateral BPs.

"Sunday.."

"Do you remember anything about the dive you were just
doing?" Hank asked her.

The woman's face frowned, the left side of her mouth sagging
a bit, as some new confusion set in. "I was....diving?" she asked 
through the oxygen mask.

The diving instructor, DeSoto and Cap all exchanged glances with 
each other. The woman had a definite neurological deficit building 
up.

Roy pulled the stethoscope out of his ears.
"Ok. Now I want you to follow my finger with your eyes, Callie.
Don't move your head. Do you understand?" asked Roy.
Then aside he said. "Cap, put down the time and these
BP readings on paper. 110/70 on the left side and 90/50 
on the right." he told Hank.

The instructor, watching both groups working nearby, startled.
"She's stroking out?"

"Perhaps not.." said Roy. "It's too soon to tell yet. These signs
just might be temporary effects. How deep were you?"

"Twenty five, maybe thirty feet.." replied the dive instructor. 
"I never take new divers any deeper than that. The risks are 
high enough as they are."

Roy learned Callie tracked visually just fine, without any indication
of doll's sign. "Can you hear these sounds equally?" he said, 
snapping his fingers first over her left ear and then over her right.

"Y--yes.." she gasped, breathing hard. Callie's skin was pale
and slightly blue in the fingernails despite the pure oxygen
upon which she was hyperventilating. 

Hank covered her with a thick layer of beach towels for warmth.

DeSoto reached out for Chris's necklace. It was a vial
of cologne he knew his son was fond of using. He
uncorked it. "Callie, what's this smell?" he asked,
moving her oxygen mask away long enough to wave 
the necklace's vial under her nose. 

Callie couldn't answer him and she shook her head.
"I.....I.....I don't know.." she cried. "How's Scott? I..
I can't see him from here!"

They didn't tell her about him.

DeSoto continued his fine neuro exam. It would save a lot
of time at the hyperbaric decompression center, he
knew, if this was already completed and out of the way.
"Smile for me, Callie, then stick out your tongue."

Callie couldn't on the left side. And her tongue deviated
to the right side corner of her mouth when she thought
that it was sticking out straight.

"That was just a check on certain cranial nerves.
Now, I'm gripping both of your hands." said Roy gently.
"Are you left or right handed?"

"Right.." gasped Callie.

"Ok, so you'll be stronger on that side." Cap continued.
"Squeeze Roy's hands, Callie. Squeeze both of them at 
the same time. Hard as you can."

Callie was about the same in both grips. 

Stanley and Roy tested Callie's body for sensations 
and ability all the way down to her toes. 

They looked at shoulder shrugging, how she could 
push up or down against pressure put to all of her limbs, 
whether or not she could bend her knees or move them 
apart..... 

Then they swept her skin, testing sharp and dull responses
on it using a ball point pen. She did fine there, discerning
normally.

But Callie's Babinski's response was positive, her toes curled 
upward when Roy stroked both feet from heel to toe along 
the bottoms of the young woman's feet. 

They found that Callie could not distinguish between hot or 
cold when they ran either an ice cube or a sun-hot rock along 
her skin anywhere above the waist on her left side. Nor could 
she successfully touch her left index finger to her nose on 
command. Her hand kept arching and going wide, only to hit
the sand next to her head.

"Ok, we've found the data we need to know about." said
Roy after those few minutes. "I've written everything down
for the doctor. He'll be better qualified in psychometric 
medicine than I, Cap." he said to Cap while both firefighters 
monitored the stressed and fleeing reactions coming and 
going on Callie's wind drying face.

Chris was right there, too, holding her good hand to comfort
her, while he kept tabs on what was left of the oxygen tank's
compressed liters as they flowed out to her through their 
high flow mask. "These men are really good at what they do, 
Callie.." he soothed. "I should know. My dad's the 
best paramedic in the county.  Soon, you'll have answers 
for everything that's happening once the doctor begins to 
treat you and your husband."

Roy smiled when he saw his son using a few fingers
to brush away some of the woman's fear with soft gentle 
strokes to her sandy hair.

----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Soon, transportation came. It was Baywatch Isthmus, arriving 
by boat after it was decided that even a helicopter flight's low 
altitude would further complicate both victims' already 
bends-aggravated conditions. 

During the whole forty five minute trip to the USC Catalina 
Hyperbaric Chamber, the thirty two foot lifeguard
boat's Cummings diesel engines, were pushed to their fastest
speeds in excess of 30 knots in an attempt to cut down
the Golden Hour that they all knew was playing out.

They reached the west end of the island right at
noon and were met by a crowd of chamber volunteers 
who were on call there twenty four hours a day, seven days
a week for just this sort of diver emergency.

The male diver was whisked away into the first blue painted
chamber while his cardiopulmonary resuscitation was 
continued aggressively. Johnny agreed to join Leo Fishman,
the Baywatch paramedic, in recompressing the man for this 
new attempt to save him. Gage knew that sometimes, on 
occasion, a diver in full arrest could, upon reaching a critical 
pressure in the chamber, regain a pulse. He had seen it 
happen before during other decompression accident sessions 
in his past.

He was banking on that possible effect for the wife's sake.

----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
Callie on the other hand was being told what to expect
before she was loaded up into her own chamber for treatment.

The dive center's doctor explained everything to Callie
while the tank was prepared to receive her and the second 
Baywatch paramedic who would be helping Roy monitor her 
condition during those hours. 
"For your treatment, Mrs. Johnson, this chamber will be compressed 
by sealing its doors and pumping in high-pressure air. 
You'll keep breathing in this pure oxygen as we go along.
The combination of high pressure and increased oxygen levels
will cure you if the hypoxia you've been suffering hasn't been
too severe. These two states will reduce the size of the nitrogen
bubbles you're feeling in your arms and legs and they'll
go a long way towards restoring the circulation to the affected 
areas of your body. Any and all excess nitrogen will be completely 
flushed out of your system.

"You'll be placed inside the chamber in a few minutes, accompanied by these
two men who're trained in hyperbaric first aid.  I'll be present throughout the 
entire treatment, standing just outside, and I'll be watching you through
the window. If you need me, I can enter the chamber via the entry 
lock if you have any questions or concerns at any time. 

"You'll be brought to the equivalent depth of your dive, Callie, where you'll
continue to breathe 100 % oxygen through your mask. Short breaks in the 
oxygen treatment, where you will breathe the compressed air within the chamber, 
are included in this treatment to minimise the risk of what we call
oxygen toxicity, getting too much oxygen in your blood because
of the saturation levels we'll be reaching. The initial treatment lasts 
approximately 4 hours 45 minutes. 

"If no, or only partial improvement is observed in your symptoms then the 
initial treatment can be extended in time until an improvement is seen. 

"If you show signs of deterioration at any point during the initial treatment 
then the chamber operators will change to a different recompression table.  
The length of this recompression treatment can vary, but typically lasts 
between 48 to 72 hours. 

"If your symptoms get more advanced and/or resume to deteriorate, or if the 
record of your diving incident shows that you had severe depth concerns, 
we'll then fill the chamber with a 50:50 Heliox mixture and starting recompressing
you at a depth of 30m until you return to a neurological state as near normal
as possible. Are you ready?" concluded the kind faced doctor.

"I...am.."  Callie paused and took her instructor's hand. "Thank you
for saving me and Scotty. I'm..I'm sorry we screwed up.." she sobbed.

"You didn't. Not from what I saw." said the diver instructor, waiting nearby. 
"Sometimes these things just happen, Mrs. Johnson. And I'll do 
everything in my power to be sure that no mistakes or errors 
were made by anyone concerning your husband's diving gear."

"Ok..It's...*gasp* ok.." Callie sighed, closing her eyes.

Then the injured female diver's care took precedence over 
everything else.
 
----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
Jo Swett and Dr. William Greene popped the champagne cork
soundly.

The portly nurse poured out nine glasses of the bubbly she
had bought at the island market and gave one each to 
the Station 51 gang, themselves, and the last to Chris DeSoto. 
Ian declined her invitation, telling the hospital nurse that he wanted 
to sit out alcohol for the evening so he wouldn't fall asleep
on them and miss something truly fun.

"Here's to your absolutely stellar double save, gentlemen." Jo 
crowed. "Dr. Greene and I are stretching legal confidences a 
little when we say this, but Mr. and Mrs. Johnson are doing fine 
tonight and resting comfortably. In a few weeks time, both of 
them'll be able to continue their vacation where they left off. 
At the beach.."

"Here! Here!" cried all the firemen.  

Chris looked stunned at the drink in his hand, but then he
caught his father's wink.

"Just a sip." Roy said. "Because it's such a special occasion. 
Then give it to Marco. His leg's itching him tonight."

"Ok.. Down the hatch.." said Chris, holding the glass over
his mouth as if he was going to pour the whole thing into
his gullet. But then he desisted, taking only a small taste.
"Thanks, dad." he said, handing the rest of it to a scratching,
grimacing Lopez.

Chet was grimacing, too, for a different reason. "D*mned sunburn.
I forgot how clear the air gets over the island." he said, trying
to reach an itch on his back with a few fingernails.

"I told you to use sunscreen, Chet, but you wouldn't listen to me."
said Roy, grinning.

"No, but I am using Marco's calamine lotion now..." Chet retorted.

"You are?" said Lopez, setting down his empty glass onto
a tabletop. "Chet, that salve's supposed to be just for me.
What am I going to do when it runs out?"

"Use these..." said Bill Greene, handing over a case of new bottles
over to Marco from where it had been sitting behind the couch out 
of sight.

"Gee. Thanks, doc. What do I owe you?"

"Nothing. The city's decided to pick up all of your medical bills, 
Marco. Let's just say for services rendered in the line of off-duty 
duty performed by the rest of these fine fellows in your group." he 
winked.

"No kidding..." said Cap, brightening up from his place
on a deck chair near them. The Casino Ballroom was lit
up like a jewel on Avalon's coastline behind him.

"I'm not. " said Bill. "Steve Hoefs lined up getting funds to cover 
them all at City Hall. He did that, in fact, as soon as he heard 
about those two divers you guys helped rescue through Baywatch's 
watch commander." 

"Tell him thanks, doc, from all of us." Lopez said, deeply moved.

"I think he already knows, Marco. He already knows. Firefighters
do read each other's minds sometimes, don't they?" smiled Jo
in amusement. 

 
FIN

Episode Thirty Three

California Dreamin'

Emergency Theater Live

----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Photo: Roy and Johnny at an airport at night.
 
Photo: Catalina Avalon firemen at night.

Photo:  Chris and Roy treat an old man with O2.

Photo:  Johnny running on top of a plane.

Photo:  1959 Catalina ambulance.

Photo:  A Catalina, Avalon house. 

Photo:  Pounding surf at Avalon Harbor.

Photo:  An Avalon mansion's living room.

Photo:  A diver discovered unconscious underwater.

Photo:  An instructor giving mouth to mouth to a diver.

Photo:  A swimmer carrying out a distressed woman in trouble.
 
Photo:  Distant divers in wetsuits on a beach.

Photo:  An active cardiopulmonary resuscitation attempt.

Photo:  A Baywatch boat landing at a diver rescue chamber.

Photo:  Hyperbaric paramedics and doctors working over a man.

Photo:  Johnny and Roy talking to a blonde haired woman outside.

            
                            End Credits --  Episode Thirty Three (Fifth Season)
                                      
                                          §§        California Dreamin'       §§


                                    :)   This episode is dedicated to Jo Swett,                            :)
                                          who's been serving as an RN on Catalina Island
                                          for over forty years.. and counting.  May she gain her
                                    :)    wish at being the oldest working nurse in California.      :) 

  
The Story Unfolds...

Season Five, Episode Thirty Four.
 
 §§  No Sooner Said... §§
 
Debut Launch: June 1st, 2006. 
 
**************************************************
From: "crash200225" <crash200225@yahoo.com> 
Date: Fri Jun 16, 2006 2:38 am
Subject: Not One Word

Paramedics Roy DeSoto and John Gage were heading back to the station
from Rampart after their first and only run of the shift. They had
been toned out at 1100 hours for a sick child. Arriving at the
scene, they had found a two year old boy with a very high fever and his
nearly hysterical mother.

"Man, I hope the little fella is going to be all right." Johnny sighed.

"Me, too." replied Roy. "When Chris was that age, we had to make a
few trips to the hospital for high fevers. Mostly in the middle of
the night. The fevers usually broke within a few hours after
treatment, and he was back to his normal self the next day."

"So, what do you think is wrong with Chet today?" Gage wondered.

"Huh?" Roy knew he should be used to his partner's sudden changes in
subjects, but he was still amazed at how fast he could shift gears.

"Chet, you know, bushy hair, mustache, pain in the..."

"What about him?"

"He hasn't said one word all shift, Roy. Not one word."

"Did you ever think he might not have anything to say?" Roy knew it
was an absurd question as soon as it left his mouth.

"Chet Kelly? Having nothing to say?" Johnny snorted. "And
he hasn't bugged me yet either. What's he up to?"

It dawned on Roy that the station HAD been unusually quiet all
morning. He wondered briefly if Chet was coming down with
something. The name 'Chet Kelly' and the words 'nothing to say' were
like oil and water. They didn't mix.

Johnny snapped his fingers and announced, "I got it. He's trying to
bug me by NOT bugging me."

"John, I need to tell you something." Roy stated with the most
serious voice he could muster.

Concern etched Johnny's face as he turned to his partner. Roy always
called him 'Johnny', 'partner', or even 'Junior', but never John.

"I'm scared." muttered Roy.

Surprised by the words, Johnny stuttered. "What... What's wrong?"

"What you just said... made sense to me. I think I'm beginning to
understand your logic."

"Haha, Roy. First Chet isn't talking and now you're the joker. Why
I put up with..."

Roy smiled and tuned Johnny out. Just as he backed the squad into
the bay while Johnny used the radio to announce that the squad was 
back in quarters, the tones sounded. Roy idled the motor while they 
waited for the dispatcher's voice to come over the speaker.

##Station 51....##

----------------------------------------------------------
Photos:  None.

*************************************************
From: "mkmg365" <mkmg365@yahoo.com>
Date: Fri Jun 16, 2006 9:23 am 
Subject: No Sooner Said

In Johnny's recollection, yesterday had started out as completely 
normal between him and Chet. And that had been way before he had 
felt the need to even tell Roy about it.

Johnny thought back to eight am the previous day...,
remembering how it had all begun.

 -------------------------------------------------------

Roy and Johnny had been changing in the locker room when 
Chet walked in.

"Yeah, and she says..," Johnny said to his partner.

"Don't tell me. Let me guess.." replied Chet, interrupting.

All of a sudden the tones began to sound...

--------------------------------------------------------------
Photos:  None.

**************************************************
From: Roxy Dee <laterrapincabesa@yahoo.com>
Date: Sat Jun 17, 2006 8:32 pm
Subject: Canyon Run~~ 

##Engine 51, Squad 51, Engine 8. Man trapped. A half mile south 
of Red Rock Canyon. A half mile south of Red Rock Canyon. Cross
street, Scenic Drive. Time out : 0824.##

Cap told dispatch that his crew was responding to the call. With Roy and 
Johnny in the squad, Marco, Cap, Chet and Mike in the engine, they were 
off. At the end of the driveway, they flipped on their lights and sirens which
cleared the road of traffic.

Their drive took them away from the city and into the rural mountainous 
area of northeastern Los Angeles County. 

Station 51 arrived at the scene ten minutes later to see, among the tall pines
and spruce, a dirt road with broken road block bunkers cast all around. Men in
hard hats were down in a ditch full of rhododendron and sumac surrounding 
a tipped over bulldozer.

Cap jumped out of the cab and a foreman ran up to him. He began to tell him
what had happened. 

"It's Charley. The cat we were using to knock over those trees lost its brakes 
and shot down into the canyon, out of control. It crashed into a tree before 
Charley could leap off and it fell on him. A couple of guys tried to free him 
but it's no use." ansed the foreman.

"Just leave that to us and clear your men out of there. I don't want anybody 
else to get hurt." said Hank.

The foreman got his crew out of the canyon just as Engine 8 arrived. Captain 
Stone came over to Cap who filled him in. 

Hank was thoughtful. He turned to Chet. "How about climbing down the cliff to 
see how badly he's trapped, Kelly?"

Chet nodded and went down, spilling dirt in a rain as he slid down the slope.
He got to the bull dozer. Chet saw Charley lying in a furrow made by the cat. 
The heavy machine's roofing section was solidly fallen on top of his legs.

"Charley?!" Chet yelled from where he could see the injured man in between
a tangle of trees. He couldn't get closer because of snapped tree limbs
and thick underbrush. There was no reply or any signs of movement from 
the man. "Charley!!" he shouted louder. 

Chet got no answer. Kelly walked around the debris to the other side of the 
bulldozer. He saw a thin stream of gas seeping down the slope. "Hey, Cap!" 
he yelled up the slope.

"Yeah?" Stanley shouted back, shielding his eyes under his helmet to block
out the worst of the rising sun's glare.

"He's unconscious and it looks like both his legs are pinned under the 
cab's roofing!"reported Chet.

"Can it be cut with a power saw?" Stanley asked.

"It's possible, but you better hurry. There's gas leaking all over." Kelly 
replied.

At that, Cap sent Johnny and Roy down the loosely bound slope, using
rappelling ropes to aid them. "I'll send the stokes down with your gear
as soon as you're ready for it." he told them.

"Ok.." grunted Gage as he helped Roy rope bounce over a cat tumbled
pine tree.

Mike Stoker and a few of Captain Stone's men soon followed the two paramedics
down with the portable saw and they started cutting on the bars of the caterpillar's
roof under a protective wash of hose spray. They decided not to wait for a foam
truck before setting to work. 

Thick corded lifelines tied off from both fire engines kept the cat from shifting 
any from its precarious angle perched on top of the man. The last thing they 
wanted was its bottom heavy chassis re-rolling back down and crushing 
Charley and his rescuers to death.

Cap and Marco got the stokes out of the engine and tied guidelines to the front
and back of the stretcher. They slid it down over the side of the road 
with the most critical boxes of medical equipment attached, the I.V.s, splints
and the oxygen resuscitator. Stone's men were fast at cutting away the
branches separating all the firemen from their victim and soon, Roy and 
Johnny were able to get over to the stilled man.

"Charley... Can you hear me?" asked Roy as he knelt, pulled off a glove
and felt for a carotid. He looked up at Gage. "He's alive." He shouted
the man's name once again, loudly so that it could be heard over the
buzz of the saw's spinning blade. 

He got a low moan for an answer following a sternal rub. "Easy. I'm with the 
fire department and we're gonna get you out of here in a minute, so hang 
on as best as you can, ok?"

He got another moan from the bloodied man lying on his side in the dirt.
But the noises he made weren't intelligible words.

Johnny started Charley on a fast flow of O2 through a plastic mask after
making sure he was able to breathe well enough without being helped.

Roy crawled under the roof and slid into a hole Charley's coworkers 
had apparently tried to dig out around him. He grunted when landed 
on his face at the bottom. "Ouch!"

"Roy, you ok?" Johnny demanded immediately, half rising from 
where he was cutting away Charley's clothing in a search for other
signs of injuries.

"I'm...ok.. Just in a pocket.." DeSoto answered. "Startled me, that's
all."

"You sure?"

"Yeah..."

Johnny listened for a few seconds to his partner's repositioning
scuffling. Finally, he was convinced Roy was ok. "So far, his chest's 
clear.  His trauma looks like it's all below the waist level, Roy. I got 
no rib fractures or any obvious gross bleeding past a large lac on his 
forehead."

Roy grunted assent and checked Charley's branch bent legs with his own 
shears and hands carefully. He found a compound fracture on the right one
and a bad cut on the left just above the knee. He got a fireman applying
direct pressure over the second wound as soon as he found it. Then he backed
out of the hole and waggled some fingers for one of the splints another fireman 
was holding strap ready for him. DeSoto asked Stoker. "How much 
longer? He's bleeding out badly from an arterial tear."

Mike answered. "About two more minutes... Three, tops. And most of
that time we'll just be moving tree branches out of your way."

Roy nodded and grabbed for the biophone.

Johnny noticed that Charley was now blinking in a semblance of wakefulness.
The oxygen had done its work. Gage saw that Charley's bruised and dirty 
hands seemed to be weakily guarding his stomach so he pressed on it
in a check. The man winced and brushed Gage's fingers away quickly.

"A little bit tender, isn't it?" Johnny asked, reaching again to see how
far the rigidity extended away from the sore spot.

Charley nodded when he found he couldn't talk easily.

"Anywhere else past your lower right side?" Johnny asked.

Charley shook his head.

A groan of rope lifted metal rewarded all of their ears. The cat's roof
swung away under many gloved hands and spun off of the construction 
worker and the sparking saw de-powered down immediately.

Charley screamed in pain at the sudden release of weight and he sagged.

Johnny regained a clear airway on him with a jaw thrust and waited for
the heavyset man to recover from his near faint. "Ok, gimme his collar. 
We board him up first before we move him out of here." he told the others 
around him. 

A few tense minutes went by as all struggled to immobilize the cat driver
as safely as they could without jarring his fractured legs.

"Ok, he's free!" said Stoker. "Ready to pull him out?" 

"Yeah.." said Roy, looking up from his vital signs notes. He glanced over
at Gage. "Johnny, I can't get any reception down here. His I.V.'s gonna 
have to wait until we get him to the top."

"He's doing fine on my end. Still semi-conscious." Johnny agreed.
"I no longer have to hold his head."

DeSoto redirected his attention back to their patient. "Charley,..We're going
to pull you out and it's gonna hurt. Try not to help us, ok? It'll only aggravate
your injuries further."

Charley waved a grimy hand in understanding. Two men moved to either
side of the man and they lifted the longboard up slightly so that hand shovels
could dig out a boulder blocking their way. Charley screamed in pain.

Roy and Johnny held onto his shoulders "You're almost out, Charley."
said Johnny. Roy brought the man's stokes near and he was nestled
inside of it with the oxygen tank sandwiched in at the foot end. They 
strapped him securely. 

Then Stoker hollered up to Cap to take up the slack.
"Cap.. Good to go.."

Once on the road, Johnny and Roy took off their gloves and helmets 
and got to work.

Roy opened the biophone and contacted Rampart while his partner got
out the BP cuff and took Charley's next blood pressure. "Rampart, this
is County 51, how do you read?"

-----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Dixie McCall looked up as the buzzer sounded over the base station
door. She went inside the glass room and toggled a switch. "Unit calling
in, please repeat." she specified as she turned on the rescue tape recorder.

------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

"Rampart this is Rescue 5-1." grunted Roy, catching his breath back
after the climb.

##Go ahead, 51.## said Dixie.

"Rampart, we have a male approximately 42 to 45 years of age.
He's been a victim of a vehicular accident involving a construction
caterpillar in a rollover. He's sustained multiple injuries resulting from it :
a compound fracture of the right femur with an arterial popliteal tear on the
left that's also a probable non-angulated fracture. Direct pressure 
seems to be working for that. I would say that he's lost about a 1000 cc's 
of blood all total. There's tenderness and some rigidity to his lower
right quadrant. We suspect some internal hemorrhaging there. He also
has a cut over his left eye without signs of obvious skull fracture. However,
he remains somewhat stuperous and diaphoretic even on high flow O2. He's 
exhibiting early moderate signs of shock. Stand by for the current vital signs.
Rampart, he has been successfully extricated from a limb entrapment." DeSoto 
reported.

##Standing by, 51.## said McCall. 

-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Dixie rapped on the window and Dr. Brackett looked up from the slate he
was reading as he was walking by the ER's main desk. He set his chart
aside and immediately joined her inside the callroom. 

"What have you got?" he asked her.

"Caterpillar driver in a roll over. Mechanism sounds worse than what's 
really apparent to the medics." she told him.

Kel read what she had down for notes. "51, this is Dr. Brackett. Have you 
obtained your new vitals signs yet?"

##That's affirmative, Rampart.## Gage answered, taking the phone from Roy
while DeSoto reached for the drug box. ##Vitals signs are : BP is 90/50, pulse 
is rapid and weak at 116, respirations are regular and only slightly labored
at 20. He's responsive to verbal commands.##

Brackett looked up in worry as he said. "Dixie, set up Treatment Four. 
He might be bleeding pretty fast into that stomach of his. We may need
to open him up right here in the ER to stop it."

"Right, Kel." she said and she left the room.

The wavy haired doctor thumbed the talk button. "51, start an I.V. of Lactated
Ringers, wide open. Also draw blood for a type and cross. Is your ambulance
at the scene yet?"

##That's affirmative, doc. It's just arrived.## Gage told him over the airwaves.

"What's your ETA?"

##Our ETA's approximately twelve minutes. Pulse's still very 
regular and palpable down to the wrist.##

"What's the scope showing?"

##Normal NSR, Rampart. Do you want us to send in a strip?##

"Negative, 51. Get him in here as soon as possible without delay. Send me one 
only if problems develop on him rhythm wise. Continue monitoring his vital signs
closely, every five minutes, and maintain a high level of perfusion for those
fractured legs. Hyperventilate him if you have to, to keep both feet viable."

##10-4, Rampart.## said Johnny.  He hung up his connection while Roy quickly
got an antecubital intravenous line in on a fast flow. An ambulance attendant
pulled the stretcher next to the two paramedics while other fireman kept up
the elevation on Charley's leg end of the stokes and his I.V. bag. Gage soon
took that and snugged it under Charley's shoulder to keep it pushing fluids
while they wheeled him to the waiting rig.

"I'll ride in with him." Roy announced as he set the medical gear inside
the Mayfair next to Charley.

"Ok, meet you there.." Johnny said picking up both their helmets and glove
pairs to throw into the squad's open window.

Cap shut the ambulance doors and rapped on them. The boxy rig took off
with the squad right behind it. Hank watched them go and then he said to dispatch
on his walkie talkie. "L.A. Engine 51. My company and Engine 8 are out one hour for
brush detail to wash down spilled gasoline from a rolled over construction 
caterpillar at the bottom of a ravine."

##Engine 51.##

------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
At the hospital, the ambulance slowed and drove under the skyway. It 
backed up to the emergency doors and the attendants got out. 

Johnny pulled the squad up next to their patient's transport and quickly
went to assist them with moving Charley inside. He took and held up the
nearly empty I.V. while they fast-walked the man inside. Passing
off the test tubes full of blood to Dixie took only a few seconds.

Brackett met them in the hall and said. "In here."

Johnny handed off the I.V. bag to one of the attendants just before
the door closed between them.

-----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

He and Roy went to the receptionist's desk to await Dixie's return
from the lab.

"Coffee?" DeSoto offered to his partner.

"No thanks." Gage sighed, rubbing his face in fatigue. "Isn't lunch
waiting for us back at the station?"

"Today it's not. The engine's still in that canyon if you recall."

"Oh, that's right.." Gage said, disappointed. "Well, that's ok. We can
always stop off at a hamburger stand somewhere on the way back."

"What do you mean, we? I'm not hungry yet. I don't wanna drive 
anywhere extra this morning. I've a feeling it's gonna be one of those 
shifts again." Roy complained.

"Fine. I'll drive then. Gimme the keys.." said Gage, not turning 
around from where he was sipping his coffee while helping himself
to the medical supplies they needed to replenish. He held out
gimme fingers impatiently.

"Try not to scratch our new paint job. Charlie the mechanic will have a bird
if we damage the squad before what he considers a decent interval's 
passed." DeSoto replied, handing over the cluster of keys on
a bungee coil.

Gage ignored him. "Think he's gonna make it?" Johnny asked Roy
as he threw a head towards Treatment Four.

"Yeah. His pressure went back up. Even before surgery. I guess he
was just emotionally shocky like we figured. I know I wouldn't like 
kissing the dirt so intimately while knowing five tons of machinery 
was about to roll back down the hill on top of me." Roy quipped.

It was a few minutes later when Dixie rejoined them.

Smiling, they pro-offered her a cup of Folders before she could
offer them an empty wash bowl complete with a green bottle of 
Phisoderm with which to scrub their dirty faces clean.

"Beaten at my own hospitality game, eh?" she joked.

Roy replied cheekily.....

-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Photo: Johnny and Roy with a bobcat, looking down.
 
Photo: Johnny and Roy with a fallen man. 

Photo: Gang follows bobcat down.

Photo : Johnny holds an I.V. over stokes.  

Photo: Close up of a man trapped in debris. 

Photo:  An injured leg.  

Photo:   The whole gang loading an ambulance.  

Photo:    Roy and Johnny resupplying solo.

Photo: Dixie and Brackett take a rescue call. Closeup.

**************************************************
From :  Cory Anda <andacory@hotmail.com> 
Sent :  Monday, June 19, 2006 2:14 AM 
Subject :  The Hidden Danger.. 

"We learned from the best.." chuckled Roy.

Johnny grinned, too. "You were a good teacher
in the paramedic program. Your mother hen instincts
must have ...rubbed off on us pretty bad... I wasn't even
aware I was under your past carefully sowed influence,
until you mentioned it to us just now, Dix.." Gage laughed.

"Now, fellas,.." Dixie demurred. "...everyone knows that
flattery works ninety five percent of the time it's used
in practice...except when you're a male with the last name 
of Gage trying to pick up a date at a single's bar." She 
crooked a half smile. 

"Very funny.." Johnny said sarcastically.

Roy grinned even bigger. "Yes. It was.."

Dixie smiled right back. "I consider myself buttered up. 
What's the real story here? What else can I do for...such a nice pair
of ..., hard working young men such as yourselves today?" she 
teased, pouring on fake flirtation by the pound.

Johnny sighed and came out with it. "When are the paramedic
refresher tests coming out this month? Brice told us they were
coming last fire call.." he admitted with a pained expression,
his word coming out in a rush like a bad hiccup.

"Johnny..You know I can't give out classified information like
that without getting into a lot of trouble. Kel would have my
hide if I told you, personally and professionally." Dixie 
scoffed mildly. "Roy, I'm ashamed of you for letting him even
try to wring it out of me."

"I'm the very picture of innocence today, Dix." said DeSoto.
"Since when has Johnny ever done anything that wasn't
his own idea to pursue in the first place? No, wait a minute.
Don't answer that.." he said, rubbing his forehead in discomforture.

"Thanks a lot.." Johnny piped up, insulted. "Look, we'd better
get going before I drop down to the floor in a hypoglycemic attack.
Wouldn't you know?..I'm starving--..."

"..again..." said Roy.
   "..again.." finished Johnny at the same time.

McCall laughed. "Why don't you eat here in the cafeteria? That food's
closer..."

"You call that food?" Johnny made a face. "I can eat it when I have to.
Only the burgers,..heh. But today, I need some real nourishment. Roy
thinks we're gonna have a busy day of---"

"Don't say it!" Roy interrupted.

"...runs.." Johnny finished matter of factly.

The walkie talkie immediately began to speak in a response.
##L.A., Squad 51, are you available?##

Roy lifted up his radio. "Squad 51, 10-4, L.A.." he said.

##10-4.. Stand by for a response with Engine 51...##

Roy, Dixie and Johnny all froze into listening poses.
Gage's eyes opened in interest despite his growling stomach.

**BEEP....BEEP....BEEP..** 

##Station 51, Battalion One. Minor excavation fire.
At the Sandstone Mining Company's secondary shaft. Two miles south
of West Ridge Pass. Two miles south of West Ridge Pass. Cross street:
Pacific Coast Highway. Time out : 10:02.##

Roy nodded, fumbling with the box of supplies and their EKG monitor,
until Johnny rescued him by taking the HT out of his hand to
acknowledge the call for him.

"Squad 51. Responding from Rampart General.." Gage told dispatch.

##Squad 51.##

"Gotta go, Dix.." Johnny said to her with a short, friendly wave.

"Here.." she said, pulling out a candy bar from her smock's pocket.

Johnny barely caught the Mounds Almond bar when it sailed 
through the air in his direction. "Oh,.. thanks but I don't like---"

"Just shut up and thank the lady already.." Roy elbowed him. "If you
won't eat that, I will.." he mumbled in irritation through the side of his 
lips.

"Thank you, Dixie. Saved my life.." Johnny fired back dutifully
as they turned away from her for the ambulance entrance. 

"Good boy." Roy retorted. "And I'm driving. You're too shaky to."

Gage's next acid comment was drowned out by the sound of
Captain Stanley's voice replying back to L.A. from their location
on the road. ##Engine 51. 10-4, L.A. Our ETA is eight minutes.##

----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

A thin stream of smoke billowed out of a horizontal mining tunnel opening,
staining the placid ridge's sun soaked landscape with a rusty purple 
soot cloud. There were no obvious signs of open flames raging from 
down below. 

Sirens mingled then tore apart from the rush of the Santa Barbara traffic 
growing louder as the engine and squad met up and flew around tight 
gravel road hairpin turns to get to the scene. Clouds of dust rose when 
the two red, light flashing vehicles screeched to a halt. 

Captain Stanley stepped off the running board, meeting his two paramedics
alongside the squad. "Gage, DeSoto,.. L.A. informed me that the new fire
here was detected by radar plane. The pilot reports that no miners are
around now and none have been in the shafts today. This might be that old
subterranean coal fire smouldering up again under the soil. So let's put
it out and then check for any workers who might've snuck into their primary 
shaft down the road in an attempt to rack up some unofficial overtime."

"Right.." John said, buttoning up his overcoat. Roy was already putting on
his gloves.

Cap faced his other men. "Marco, Stoker,..Get an inch and a half played out.
Kelly, you're going down to see if you can scout out the source." he said,
glancing and sniffing carefully at the mossy hole. The smoke had already 
abated somewhat so he added. "Don't think we'll need an air bottle just yet 
for this one, Chet. It's a fairly cut and dry ground fire as far as I can tell.
Probably just a dust flare up with no kindling."

"Ok, Cap. I'll be careful. I'll radio in every minute." Kelly told him.

"You do that. Go get a torch, lifebelt and a rappeling rope. The shaft
lift's not in service today. There're no workers." Hank said as he 
stepped back into the Ward's cab to give his status report to Battalion. 

The others moved away to their fire duties.

Stanley scraped off some mud from his shoe absently as he watched
them set up. The clump of clay fell and landed heavily onto the ground and
a dust eddy wafted up from the impact and drifted under the engine's
tires. The swirl moved on and passed a freshly dead body of a jack
rabbit partially hidden in the grassy rut running along the middle of the road.

Nearby, a bird faltered in flight, recovered, then faltered again only
to tumble end over end in a crash to the ground. It landed in a fluttering heap
and soon became still.

No one noticed the absence of animal sounds or the sudden silence falling
around them for the engine's radio was still filling the air with situation 
chatter and firefighting conversations. 

Cap waited for a gap in vocal traffic. "L.A., Station 51 is out forty five minutes.
Our incident appears to be a resurgence of the perpetual underground fire 
Five Beta already noted by Headquarters on the "to monitor" list. All 
company shafts appear to be completely uneffected...There's no damage 
to property."

##10-4, 51. I'm standing down. Keep me posted.## replied Battalion One
from his car's frequency.

"Will do, Battalion.." said Hank in reply. He sighed and pushed down his
walkie talkie radio, looking up. "Mike, go ahead and charge up that hose
just to be on the safe side while Johnny and Roy man Chet's lifeline. We'll
give him just a quick down then up and then we're out of here after a fast
ground heat survey update on that old fire."

"Ok..Cap." said Stoker, jogging off to the tall red and white painted
water valve clearly marked by the circuit breaker building.

A few minutes later, Mike turned off the hose and peered into the steaming
darkness of the ventilation hole, satisfied that every flame had been extinguished.
All of the guys stood around the new shaft, talking about the peculiarity of the
blaze. "It shouldn't have lasted down there this long, Cap." Kelly said, belting up.
"Why wasn't all the oxygen used up in the first few minutes after it broke into the 
shaft from the substrate enough to put itself out?"

"Random breezes..?" guessed Gage. "There is a storm front in the mountains.
See?" he said, pointing to the Sierra Nevadas on the horizon.

"And rainwater moving down the overflow might account for better ventilation.."
Stanley concluded.

"Bingo.." Chet grinned, tightening his helmet while Roy checked his belt's
buckle and the rope hitched in a double loop attached to it. "Yeah, well, the
sooner I get down there to see if it'll stay out this time, the sooner we can
all get back to the station to fix up some serious chow. Are you as hungry as I am,
Gage?"

"You have to ask?" Johnny groaned miserably.

"Eat.." Roy said, shoving the candy bar that Johnny had left on the dash of
the squad at him.

"Oooo, thanks.." said Kelly, snatching it from Roy's gloves. He quickly stole
one of the candy bar halves and then tossed the last one up into the air so Johnny
had to catch it fast before it hit the dirt. He munched happily. "Thanks for the
work reward ahead of time, pal. That was nice of ya.." he chuckled.

Gage scowled. "Hey, that was mine.."

"Was.." said Chet, disappearing into the hole, his rappelling equipment
jingling as he climbed over the lip and started heading down in the direction
of his flashlight's beam. "And it was real yummy, too. Remember.. you 
snooze, you lose.."

Johnny had to quickly pop the candy into his mouth before Chet's descending
tension fell onto the rope he was holding for safekeeping in between his knees. 

Kelly continued downward cautiously. "Cap, the air's still fresh down here, and 
it's not hot in the slightest."

"Ok, pal.." said Stanley.

Gravel skittered and echoed up the slantwise shaft. Then there was a particularly
loud slide past the usual, followed by a sharp thud. Suddenly, Chet's rope whipped
taut, nearly dragging everyone manning it off of their feet. Marco was driven to his
knees, balancing on the edge in a strain to support Kelly's fallen weight. He grunted,
and saw a flash of silver as Kelly's light tumbled away and down. "Canisters?"
he grunted. "Cap, something not right down there. I thought this tunnel was supposed 
to be zoned for air venting only, not storage."

Cap fell onto the rope with the others. "Chet?! You all right?! Chet ?!!"

The rope creaked back and forth in the empty black space yawning
in front of their noses.

"He's in trouble." Cap swallowed tightly. "Let's get him out of there. Fast."

Painstakingly, hand over hand, the gang retrieved inches back. Finally Marco
grabbed Chet's belt at the waist and together, the five of them hauled him out
onto the grass. He was limp and his eyes were closed slits. Lopez gasped.
"What the h*ll happened? He was barely down there for twenty five seconds."

On a sudden impulse, Roy knelt, placing an ungloved hand onto Chet's stomach
over his turnout where he lay. "He's barely breathing, guys."

Johnny shot him a crazed look. "What?!" And he got on Chet's head instantly
to monitor his pulse.

"Holy---" Hank exclaimed while Stoker and Marco sprinted to the squad to get
the gear and the oxygen.

Roy checked Kelly's eyes quickly. "I don't understand this. Did something hit him
on the head to knock him out?"

Johnny quickly ran fingers through Chet's hair, feeling for wetness. "No..there's 
nothing. Plenty of dust but no injuries here. Or anywhere else that I can see.
Are you finding anything?" Gage asked incredulously with alarm, thoroughly
stunned.

"No. Let's get him to the road into com range." said Roy.

The three firemen gathered Chet's unconscious form into their arms after
they pulled off the safety belt and hastily loosened Kelly's jacket collar.

They carried him in anatomical alignment on his back, without jarring
Kelly's neck or spine.

Cap was beside himself with anxiety. "What-..what's wrong with him guys?
Think he slipped or something? The smoke wasn't thick enough to turn or
be even the slightest bit bad. I checked. "

"We don't know, Cap. It's... I... something's not right with him that's for sure.."
Roy stammered.

The gang set Chet onto the ground while Roy took over guarding his airway.

Johnny froze in his check for broken bones, listening suddenly as he
peered at Chet's paling face. "He's stopped breathing." It was Gage's
turn to shake his head in denial. He turned a valve on the resuscitator
and started Chet on forced, oxygenated ventilations. Mike soon knelt and
took over the job while Roy carefully reassessed Chet's pulse.

Cap fairly flew to the engine. Marco followed. Lopez held onto the door,
biting his lip while Cap got a hold of L.A. "L.A., this is Engine 51. We've
a man down at our location. Send an ambulance and--" He stopped.
Marco was shaking his head, apparently dizzy. "Marco, you ok?"

Marco blinked and took a breath. "Yeah.. uh...yeah."

Cap studied him closely. "Ok.." he retoggled the switch on the cab
mic. "..And a full mining survey team. We've got an odd occurrence 
of respiratory collapse following exposure to old coal smoke. Advise
all units coming in to wear their air masks." 

##10-4. ETA on your ambulance is ten minutes.## Right away, another
Klaxon sounded over the radio, assigning a Ground Fire Hazmat team
to 51's incident. 

Hank tossed down the mic. "We're getting out of here. Marco, get your
air bottle on. We'll help the others get into theirs. I messed up somewhere.
And I've messed up big.."

Lopez was already hefting his scba apparatus onto his sweating back.
But he was having trouble. Cap pulled it on for him and got him into his
mask. "So it's gas fumes?! Coming from where? G*d d*mn it! " Stanley 
snatched up four air bottles, one for each man awake, and himself.

"I saw...saw cyl-- cylinders, Cap. Silver ones. Down the hole.."
Marco coughed through his faceplate.

"Go help the others.. I'm getting mine on. Tell them--" Cap took a
hesitant step forward, with his burden, and then went down as if 
poleaxed.

Numb, his senses reeling, Marco yelled aloud. "Cap?!" He bent over
and nearly tripped over Hank's legs. He started to pick up his HT to 
turn it on to call out a warning for Johnny and Roy, when 
dizziness gripped him, too. 

Lopez fell.

For a moment, Marco thought he managed to get out his jacket
halligan for a wild swing at the side of the Ward to sound a warning
signal, but then the rising blackness cast him deep into a soundless void.

----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
"Did you hear something?" Roy asked the others who were working to 
hook up Chet to the EKG monitor.

Johnny looked up from the short airway and ambu he had begun using
on Kelly. "Me? No. All I hear is Chet expiring O2 after we put it into him."
he replied in a rush. 

Stoker was too occupied with manning a BP cuff with a stethoscope to
notice the question.

Gage felt a resistance to a generous bag squeeze. He removed the face 
mask. Kelly coughed out a chest full of oxygen and then some
shallow but regular breaths began spontaneously through his new 
semi-conscious state. Johnny blurted out. "That did it." 

Mike grinned when he saw some finger twitches. "120 over 74." he reported
to Roy and Johnny. Then he got out a non-rebreather mask set to 
maximum literflow and turned on the suction unit in case it was needed.
He slipped the clear mask over Chet's face with a light grip, his face
still full of strained concern."Rate's about thirty, guys." he said, studying 
Kelly's chest movement. "If you don't need me anymore, I'll go check on 
that ambulance. Cap and Marco went back to the engine to call for one
three minutes ago."

"We're ok now. Go on ahead." said Johnny, shivering, as he opened 
up the biophone case. ::That's odd. It's not even cold outside.:: he thought.

Stoker jogged around a bush towards the mining road.

Gage reached for the phone as another chill gripped him. He stopped
and let it pass before setting up the transmission aerial. ::Funny. There
it is again. Oh, no.. Could this be a hostile gas working on me?:: he wondered.
In mid thought, a spasm doubled Johnny over and he made himself
look at his partner, who had gripped his arm in a reflex.

Roy was staring at him, too, half reaching for his own throat, a horrified
expression on his face. He stood up, stumbling, trying to reach for
an air bottle near them on the ground, when he fell like a stone.

Johnny saw details only muzzily as a numbing paralysis gripped his
arms and legs, and constricted his lungs. It tumbled him onto his left side.

"Gas..." he groaned, hearing the live handy talkie chatter on
obliviously in his turnout's pocket. He tried to reach for the biophone
to knock the receiver free into an open channel, but it was too far
away from his hands in the dust. Desperately, he launched out a foot 
and dimly, he felt his shoe hit something heavy.

Gage blacked out.

--------------------------------------------------------------------------------
Mike Stoker glanced across the ravine to the mining company's 
entrance gates. There was no sign of a transport yet. 

Sighing, he started back the way he had come. Absently, he kicked a stone
and it bounced off at a right angle and came to rest close to the gaping mouth
of a dead robin.

Stoker jumped. He hadn't noticed any dead birds before on the way to
scope out for the ambulance. He nudged it with a toe. "Oh, sh*t."
He immediately stifled any deep breaths and he started shouting on
the tail of his last one. "Cap?! We got gas in the area! Everybody! 
Emergency! Get into your scba now..!"

A twinge of pain quickly silenced him and he was forced to blow out
the rest of his breath forcefully. His eyes fell on the carcasses of a
rabbit and another bird. Both were dead, like the robin had been.

Thoroughly unnerved, he took a calculated risk and started running
back for the rest of the gang. He rounded a corner and saw....

Things were blurring.. Spinning... Mike blinked and shook his head.
He let out a shout of dismay. Johnny and Roy were crumpled 
at Chet's side and both weren't moving. And under the engine,
Stoker could see two pairs of sprawled arms and legs.

Going blind with suffocation, the engineer crawled towards Roy 
after failing in his attempt to strap on his own activated air mask
from a tank near DeSoto's hand. Nausea pitched Mike onto his
stomach and on top of Chet. His last thought was that he was
glad Kelly was still alive and breathing.....

Silence filled the gulley as the firemen gasped, threw up, then
lay still.

Then the serious minutes began to tick by.

-----------------------------------------------------------------------------

Photo:  A dead Western Robin on the ground.

Photo:  Johnny down, in pain.

Photo:   Roy coughing in scba gear, with difficulty breathing.

Photo:   Gage feeling his head while on the biophone.

Photo:   Man being ambu ventilated.

Photo:   Biophone close up with the phone knocked loose.

Photo:   Chet Kelly smirking by the engine, outside.

**************************************************
From: Patti or Jeff or Cassidy <theaterhost@voyagerliveaction.com> 
Date: Wed Jun 28, 2006 4:33 am 
Subject: One Tracked Mind.. 

At Rampart, the red light went on over the glass enclosed base
station next to Dixie McCall's desk. The head nurse set aside
her chart filing and made her way into the room, turning on
the recording reels. "Unit calling in, please repeat.." she
said on reflex.

Nothing came over the air, just the sound of wind blowing.

"This is Rampart Base on the air. Go ahead with your
transmission please.." she tried again.

Dixie frowned when she thought she heard a faint scuffling 
and some very quiet strangled gagging. 

Startled, she automatically snatched up the red phone over 
the radio that gave her an instant open tie with the county's 
fire department dispatch. "L.A. County, this is Miss McCall at 
Rampart General Hospital. I've an incoming call from a 
paramedic unit that's just been initiated. I've a confirmed 
open comm but no one's talking. Sounds like they've got some
real trouble. Could you run a trace?... Yes, I'll keep their radio 
frequency open. All right, I'll be standing by.." she replied to L.A.
"I'm turning our FD scanner on right now."

-----------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Chet opened his eyes to the sound of cool hissing. He reached
up muzzily and found a heavily flowing oxygen mask parked
cock-eyed over his chin. He remembered that moments ago, he 
had spat out something hooked over his tongue. 

Rolling over dizzily, he spotted an oropharyngeal tube lying in the 
dirt next to him. ::That oral was mine? What the h*ll happened to me?::
he thought with a heavy confusion. Groaning, he looked up from
where he propped belly down on his elbows and spotted Roy and 
Johnny lying in a heap on either side of him. Stoker was out, too,
twisted haphazardly around his legs. "Guys?! Can you hear me?!"

Kelly's knee plished against a used ambu bag assembly as he 
untangled himself from his unconscious crewmates and got 
up onto his hands. Instinct made Chet pull his plastic oxygen mask 
back over his nose and mouth, hastily pressing it down to gain more
protection. ::They're all skin flushed. And the white vapor hanging over 
us is new..:: his mind screamed at him. Sucking in frightened gasps,
Kelly looked quickly at his surroundings for a better solution to 
safeguard himself from a suddenly gone-hostile breathing environment.

He found it.

Struggling, Chet groped for the air bottle's mask lying near Mike's
reddened hand and he put it on himself as fast as he could. Dragging
the tank near, he hurriedly felt the carotids and breathing attempts
of all three firemen lying near him. 

Unlike the others, Gage wasn't even trying to cough through his
fast, very shallow respirations.

In pain from a tremendous headache, Kelly set the oxygen mask that 
he had found being used on himself over Johnny's face and cranked 
up the flow to try and boost the paramedic's far weaker vital signs. 

Satisfied that Mike, Roy and Johnny were stable for the moment, Chet
got onto his feet in a hunt for Marco and Cap and for more air bottles
to fit into place for his downed coworkers.

Weakness kept Chet from standing and he was forced to drag his air 
supply's tank weight behind his crawling feet by its straps.

A little clarity allowed a gasping Kelly to hit the distress button on 
his bottle's PASS device as he made his way towards the parked,
light flashing Ward engine.   Its piercing audible wail comforted him
as it told the others that he was coming. 

As Kelly drew closer to the road, he could hear L.A.'s hail, for his station's
reply, repeat itself continuously. ::They know. Oh, Thank G*d.:: he thought
as he slowly dragged closer to the truck. ::But it won't hurt to tell them
to hurry their *sses a little faster.:: Chet  thought. He reached a trembling
glove into his pocket and hit the emergency squelch tone on his handy
talkie until it began sounding out triple whistles over a live channel.

All radio chatter coming from the engine ceased as the main frequency 
was instantly priority cleared by all units working around the county to
await a further explanation or reply. Kelly kept crawling with the HT 
tethered around a wrist as he spoke, his thumb pressing down over
the talk button. "Mayday... *gasp* L.A.,..Engine 51.. Mayday..." he gasped
desperately. "Environmental ex--exposure.. Unknown vap-- vapor..
From the mine..." he yelled through his face plate.

##Engine 51, how many?## returned L.A.

"Six..... Code..I." sighed Chet, dropping his head. "All above ground..
*cough* by the eng--..."  A spasm silenced him instantly.

Kelly found he was no longer able to talk, gagging in agony at the fire 
in his lungs. :: Is this methane on top of the CO? Somewhere, that perpetual
coal fire's broken through to the surface in a new place close by.::

##Engine 51. Do you read? Engine 51. Respond by HT distress toggle if you 
can't speak. ## L.A. ordered. ##Hazmat and two alarms have been notified. 
Their ETA is at a maximum of three minutes out....
Engine 51, do you read?##

Chet ignored the voice, his vision tunneling tightly when he spotted Marco
and Cap lying face down in the dirt beneath open cab and equipment doors.
Lopez already had an air bottle working for him to the point of half-conscious
coughing, so Chet crawled past him and got to Hank's limp body.

Flipping Cap over, Chet tilted Hank's head back adequately while he sagged
over him. A resting forehead on Stanley's chest confirmed a slow rise and fall 
of continued air movement by feel to Chet without his ever having to open his 
eyes as fatigue began rolling in waves over him from trying even a half upright 
crouch against the pull of gravity.

With a jerk, Kelly got away from the impending blackout by hastily flopping 
back onto his stomach. Chet got Cap into a flowing air bottle mask as fast 
as he could manage after the hypoxia stars had left his eyes. Then, with an effort, 
he finished what Hank had started by completing the long trip back to the rescue 
squad with three new air bottles in tow for Stoker, DeSoto and Gage.

The last of these were fitted to them successfully when Chet's gas 
sickened condition swept him once more into unconsciousness.

---------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

The Hazmat Incident Commander studied the mine company's 
landscape from a distance. He had made sure that all of his
crews were carefully upwind of Station 51's location.

"Have you spotted them all lieutenant?" he asked his safety officer.

"Yes sir. It seems they had time to get into their air bottles before blacking out."
replied the fully hazmat suited firefighter. "But we can't tell their statuses, those
vapors are too dense."

"Easy son, we'll get to them just as soon as we can. You know I'm not
risking any more men down there until we know what the situation is fully. 
Tell the Operations Officer to set up for Level Two Haz Mat. Showers
and full respiratory suit precautions. I'm not convinced the mechanical 
sniffers were accurate on those methane and carbon monoxide readings. 
There may be another gas working down there that we haven't detected 
yet." said the IC scoping his binoculars once more over all the vomit stains.

"I'll get everyone started.." said the Safety Officer. "Whatever those fumes are, 
they weren't fast acting enough to prevent those paramedics from reviving 
someone during the early minute intervals. We spotted a bag valve mask
lying next to them and a resuscitator supply fitted with a nonrebreather, turned
on, by a used oral airway."

"Maybe that was the fireman who eventually called out the mayday. 
Have you found him yet?"

"Yeah, he's the fourth casualty you're seeing lying by the paramedics 
with the HT around his arm. His jacket says his name is Kelly."

"Keep having our people trying to contact him through his talkie. He
may still be responsive somewhat despite being unable to move." said 
the fireman in charge. "Once I'm convinced things are safe enough through
which to enter, we'll stokes them all out to Decontamination."

Soon, the IC was joined by Battalion One and all factors were worked out
and decided upon in a course of action.

Six minutes after the Hazmat response arrived, suited crews entered
the Hot Zone to rescue and decontaminate Station 51's fallen firefighters.

---------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
It was several hours later in ICU at Rampart Hospital.

Station 51's crew had all been admitted to the same open nursing station
in six different cubicals of vacuum controlled isolation rooms arranged in
such a way where they could all see and hear each other.

Chet smiled a few seconds after his eyes reopened around his oxygen mask.
::We're safe now, partially because of me. Gage is never gonna live this down 
once he finds out what went on after I woke up out there.:: he thought in wonder.

He caught one young isolation suited nurse newly studying him from her
place in front of the vital signs monitors wired to all of them at the nurses desk. 
"Yes, folks. Chet Kelly probably has single handedly saved the lives of his entire 
station crew today. And all in one shot, too." he mumbled happily to himself.
"Johnny Gage, you are gonna eat your heart out big time once you find 
that that fact's the absolute truth."

His iso room door opened just then, and Chet soon found himself face
to face with a hazmat suited Dixie McCall and Doctor Brackett.

Chet opened up his mouth and started speaking hoarsely...

---------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Photo: Hazmat Incident Commander- Captain of 110's.
 
Photo: A hazmat Level Two shower. 
 
Photo:  A coal fire vent, newly exposed. 

Photo: Kel and Dixie in isolation clothes. 
  
Photo: A hazmat team providing patient care. 

Photo:  A hazmat unit. Los Angeles County. 
  
Photo: Johnny Gage out on a gurney close. 

***************************************************
From: Patti or Jeff or Cassidy <theaterhost@voyagerliveaction.com> 
Date: Wed Jun 28, 2006 9:31 pm 
Subject: Full Circle------ 

"Doc,...h-how are they?" Kelly whispered. 

"They're all fine. Johnny was touch and go with
a bit of acute respiratory distress syndrome but that proved
just temporary." replied Kel. "He only entered into 
crisis because his blood carboxyhemoglobin levels were
near forty percent. Anyone would pant a little with that
kind of PO2 shortage. The hazmat triage paramedic said your
treating him probably made all the difference in the world, Chet.
You bought him more voluntary breathing time than he
normally would have had following that kind of carbon
monoxide exposure."

"Then that's all it was that got us? Carbon m-monoxide?" 
Chet blinked in confusion. He didn't even wince when 
Dixie drew out a followup arterial blood gas from his arm. 

"And methane. No special decontamination was needed
in the end. Just a lot of O2 and a little Amyl nitrite to get
rid of the cyanide traces built up in your systems from 
the fresh coal smoke blowing in from the road. That's what
saved all of you from serious cases of atelectasis. The 
medication was injected at the scene until your I.V.s could be
established to prevent bronchial cast formation caused by 
protein rich fluids potentially washing into your airways. 

"Now with Gage, we had to blow off all of his CO a little more rapidly. 
He's just finished a twenty three minute session in a hyperbaric chamber
to speed up its half life decay inside of his bloodstream. 
His PO2 levels are finally out of the eighties." Kel shared.
"You yourself only have fifteen minutes or so before you're
cured of your carbon monoxide poisoning. It exists in the body
for only seventy five minutes or so on one hundred percent oxygen."

Chet looked at him skeptically, still feeling the effects of
smoke inhalation deep in his chest.

"It's true.." soothed Dixie. "The worst is over for you and the
rest of the gang. They're all resting. See?" she said, throwing
a hand about the ward.

"Then what are you two still doing inside of those funky space suits."
Chet asked. "What aren't you telling me?"

Brackett and Dixie exchanged looks of amusement. "We found
that Marco's infected with a particularly virulent pathogen."
said Kel.

"What's he got?" Chet asked with worry.

Dixie tried to hide her grin. "He's got the chicken pox. Only he
hasn't erupted out into the weepy lesion stage yet."

"He's got the chicken pox?!" Kelly frowned, still not believing.

Brackett nodded. "Yep. Its antigen came out clear as a bell 
in his blood work. We had to isolate each of you into separate 
self contained cubicles until we learned your exact histories with 
the disease. You're the last one to awaken to tell us yours. Have 
you had em?"

"No. Can't say I've had the pleasure." he grumbled miserably.
Chet sighed softly when he felt Dixie place a comforting hand on 
the side of his cheek to ease the not so happy news and he closed
his eyes wearily.

"As I thought." Brackett said. "Well then, it looks like all six of you have
earned a protracted stay at Rampart until the pox runs past the
highly infectious stage."

"You're kidding. You mean nobody on my shift's had them before?"
Chet said with surprise.

"Nope." said Dixie. "Not even Roy with his two school aged kids."

"What about our folks at home? How are they gonna cope?"

Kel met his eyes evenly. "Do you really want to subject your
friends and family to the chicken pox like this? It's the best part 
of summer right now. Not too cool. Not too hot.." he tried reasonably.

Chet quieted down. Just a little.
"Cap's gonna hate this. He's probably already his own worst enemy
for missing the escalated coal fire conditions under us."

"Not his fault.." said Dixie. "I spoke with your Battalion Chief to
get what kind of gases he thought you fellas were dealing with 
in the triage area. Apparently, secondary fire crews found a 
very recent surface soil failure above a very large, new, 
burning vein of coal. A hundred foot section of the road upwind of 
your rescue site gave way just when you went down into the shaft
and caused a silent steam explosion, releasing years worth of trapped 
gases. No one could have foreseen that happening. Not even your 
captain." said McCall with conviction.

"So, in spite of wanting suddenly to be put in a zoo for my future
spots, how am I doing right now?" Kelly asked, sitting up a little 
higher in the bed.

"You're going to be perfectly fine. Your chest roentgenograms were 
negative. Your kidney functions are showing normal. Your EKG 
shows absolutely no signs of secondary smoke inhalation related 
cardiac ischemia.  All we have left to do is assist in displacing the 
elevated level of carbon monoxide from your blood's hemogoblin." 
Kel said, raising both eyebrows thoughtfully.

"And how are you going to handle that?" Chet asked, his leariness
of hospitals and doctors showing almost as strongly as Hank Stanley's
did.

"Me? I don't personally have to do anything more.You're doing all 
the work fixing yourself just by breathing in the humidified oxygen 
flowing through that face mask of yours." Brackett smiled. "Try
and get some sleep. It'll speed up your detoxification. I'll have 
Dixie go on rounds to tell the others that you're finally back in 
the land of the living."

"Appreciate it, doc." Chet folded his hands behind his head. "Oh,
and Dixie?"

"Yeah?" asked McCall, turning at the door in her iso suit.

"Could you deliver a message to Marco Lopez for me?"

"Sure. What do you want me to tell him, Chet?"

"Tell him to watch his back when this pox thing's finally over.
Looks like the Phantom's gonna be real busy paying him back
for a week's time spent in the hospital.." Kelly gestured
empathetically with his non I.V.'ed arm.

Dixie just rolled her eyes before she left the room on Brackett's heels. 

------------------------------------------------------------------------------

It was Day Two at Rampart in the Isolation Ward.

By then, Chet Kelly felt that he knew every irritating mannerism
his coworkers possessed, and then some, by the time lunch
finally rolled around.

Captain Stanley, in the cubical to his left, took his tray from
the dietary aide and smiled sweetly at her. "Thanks for the food,
miss." And he cracked the lid open, trying not to make a face.
"Smells wonderful."

"Cap,." grumbled Marco, trying to take a nap in his sheets, with
his back to the others, said. "Don't you know it's wrong to tell
a fib? You're lying now. I can tell."

Cap huffed and slammed the aluminum lid back down over
his plate of turkey and reconstituted mash potatoes. "Oh,
really? What if I meant it in spite of things?"

"Impossible, Cap. You're not the contradicting type. You
can get real mean, but you definitely never get deceitful.
Ever." said Gage around his oxygen cannula.

"This coming from a man with two prongs shoved up his nose.."
Chet gestured.

"Shut up already, Chet." roared Johnny. "We've heard enough
of your Freudian observations to last a lifetime."

"And whose lives did I save last week?"

The rest of the gang fell silent.

"That's right. I saved all your hides. Least you can do is allow
me an ear or two whenever I got something to say for at least
a little while." Chet said with some sting.

Gage met Chet's gaze eye to eye. "Since when have you got
anything worthwhile to say to us anyway?" Johnny told him
crankily.

--------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

"So that's how it happened.." said Roy, as he and his partner
waited for the rescue call to finish airing through the overhead
speaker. "You offended Chet in his highest charitable 
benefactor mode when we all were quarantined at Rampart last 
week. Johnny, I think remembering what you did then's keeping
Chet from speaking to you any today.."

"You think so?" Johnny asked, parking his helmet back onto his
head as Roy reactivated the squad's lights.

"Yeah, I probably know so." Roy returned, equally firm.

"Well, good. I think I'm actually enjoying the peace and quiet for
once." Johnny said empathetically with anger.

"You sure could have fooled me. Just a minute ago you were
really fretting about what hidden shinanigans he might be up to."
Roy exacerbated.

"Things change. I change. Especially when Chet does."
Johnny said with heat. "Now are we gonna roll on this call
or am I gonna have to get out and push the squad all the way
there?" he said holding out the piece of paper containing the 
address he had written down to his glaring partner.

"I'm going. I'm going. We gotta wait a tad for the slower engine, 
remember? Now hush and let me drive this thing without you doing 
it from the perverbial back seat." Roy fired right back.

L.A. unexpectedly cancelled their response. ##L.A., Station 51. Return.##

In the Ward, Marco grumbled. "Aw.. there's goes another chance to burn
off the rest of my scabs with some real fire heat. That's not fair at all."

"I got some calamine lotion with your name on it.." said Roy, holding up
the bottle out his driver window.

"You know I hate the smell of that stuff, Roy. Thanks but no thanks. 
Epsom salts and another serious bath'll do me just fine."

"No baths while on duty, Lopez. You'll lag behind changing back into your
uniform because you'll be too wet to be speedy enough." Cap told him 
with a firm jerk of his thumb.

The others chuckled as they peeled off their jackets and helmets to
return to the kitchen and the rec room to resume downtime activities.

Gage grinned. "You can always elicit Boot's help with your itching.
He loves to lick people when they don't want him to."

"You keep him away from me, Johnny. He must have pulled a dozen
sneak attacks on me last night as it was. I didn't get any sleeping
done at all for keeping up my guard." Lopez complained.

"Maybe a little sleep deprivation'll de-sensitize your skin a little more,
Marco." Cap grinned, offering up a bright side.

Gage and Roy laughed as Marco glared at them all while trying not
to scratch at his withering pox marks. Lopez grumpily snatched
the topical's bottle out of Roy's idle hand and he immediately 
peeled off his uniform shirt down to his white tank top to dab some 
on liberally with the flat of several fingers using the squad's side 
mirror.

"Any words of wisdom from the wise on this subject matter?"
Gage asked Kelly directly, with a smile.

"Why should I have anything better to offer him, Gage? I'm not 
the paramedic here." and he stormed off, dragging Boot after
him by the collar so he wouldn't leap up and lick off the medication
Marco was slathering onto his skin.

"Wow, what a grouch.." Johnny hissed to the rest of them in a
subdued voice.

"Yeah, well at least Chet's talking to ya again." Stoker remarked.

"You call that talking? I liked him better when he was staying mute."
Johnny told him no nonsense.

-----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

It was the middle of the night when the next response toned 
all of them out of a sound sleep.

------------------------------------------------------------------------ 

Photos: None.

**************************************************
From: "Mark Panitz" <mrpanitz@yahoo.com> 
Date:  Wed Jun 28, 2006 9:41 pm 
Subject:  Service Dog Rescue

The tones sang out. ##Squad 51, we've got a 911 call with a dog barking. 
3560 Riverside Drive. Cross street Hollywood Blvd. Enhanced 911 shows a 
person with a service dog at that address.## said L.A.

Roy and John got into the squad and responded.

John said. "I wonder who called us?"

"Who? The person or the dog?" Roy replied.

"I'll bet the dog made that call.." John said.

"We'll soon find out." replied Roy as they pulled away.

------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Photos: None.

**************************************************
From: Patti or Jeff or Cassidy <theaterhost@voyagerliveaction.com> 
Date: Thu Jun 29, 2006 8:35 am 
Subject: Man's Best Friend..  

"You know, Roy? I don't think I like this new experimental 
phone system they're working on. It may be great keeping
an open line whenever someone's incapacitated and not
able to talk.. But at the onset, there's not enough information 
given to any crew who's supposed to be getting there. I 
mean, dog barking.. assistance dog. It could be anything 
going on at that house." Gage grumbled while he and
Roy tightened their helmets under their chins a little more.
"Me? I'd rather know what I got coming.. Be it a man down,
child trapped, or a house fire..... ya know?"

Roy smiled. "Everything the fire department does is for
a good reason, Johnny. I've been with working for them
long enough to know that usually when Headquarters springs
a new idea like this 911 thing, it's usually revolutionary in 
nature and awkward only temporarily. That network's probably
gonna save a lot of lives."

"Just three little numbers.. What's to keep your kid from dialing
those up whenever he feels like it?" Johnny mused.

"The chief says there's an operator on the other end who'll call
right back to see if there's truly an emergency at the incoming
call address that covers that."

"Still wastes valuable time if you ask me. A neighborhood watch
gives better info on what's happening with someone better than
an electronic phone system. I mean, what difference does it make
whether or not we know a person's got a help dog with em or not?
That only means they're physically handicapped in some way.
Either being blind, or deaf, or with challenged mobility.. That's
something a paramedic can learn getting face to face with a patient... 
...in about two seconds.." Gage insisted.

"Try not to fuss about it too much, Johnny. People like you are a 
little slow warming to anything new, but once you've been convinced
that an idea or new technology works, you settle down and decide that
you feel comfortable with it." DeSoto told him.

"With this idea though?...Not in a million years. There's been too many 
bugs with the 911 Sifter. And what does enhanced mean anyway? That 
things sound louder?" Gage's face was dubious.

"No, it means that L.A. can track a phone's location on a map and
discover where it's at when a caller can't talk themselves. All a victim
has to do is kick a phone off the hook and leave it there after dialing
out." Roy told him.

"You sure know a lot about this funky new system, don't ya?"

"Sure I do. I'm a paramedic trainer, remember? Gotta keep up with
the latest for all those trainees we get coming through.." Roy grinned
cheekily. "I'd be happy to show you all the paperwork on it..."
he offered.

"No thanks. I'm a staunch supporter of the eyes and ears first theory.
Just like Cap. I don't wanna know about the 911 system, not until it's
been ratified into our county's fire department policies, and only
when I've been officially ordered to learn about it." Gage told him firmly.

"Suit yourself. It's always a good thing to keep current...Remember how
surprised you were when Cap dragged out that life net to catch us
when that apartment building was threatening to flash?" Roy asked
him.

"Yeah. What about it?"

"You didn't even know it existed until Cap had that other company
drag it out to use for us. And that was OLD technology.." DeSoto
shared.

"So? Do I look like I suffered for not knowing about it?" Gage snapped.

"Well, no. Not exactly. But it's always a good thing to be prepared.."
Roy told him.

"I'm not a boy scout.." Gage grumbled. "Turn a right turn. Here."

Roy never lost his smile as he rounded a bend onto Riverside
Drive.

Johnny's face completely washed into a hard line. "And there's
yet another 911 bug biting us in the *ss again right now, Roy. Get a
load of that situation.." he said angrily. 

A house was engulfed in flames down the block and its address
matched the one on their notes. And an assistance dog was
waiting for them, seated nervously in its harness on the lawn,
torn between training to stay until help arrived and running
back into the house after his companion. All Johnny had to
see was its fidgety behavior to know that the house wasn't 
the slightest bit empty of human life.

Roy pulled up a hundred feet and upwind of the dwelling while 
Johnny got on the squad radio. "L.A., Squad 51. Respond two pumper 
companies to our address! We've a fully involved single story wooden 
house structure on fire with a possible victim or victims inside. Their 
exact number is unknown."

Gage was livid as he burst out of the squad's cab and got into
his turnout jacket. "You wanna tell me again that some operator
didn't shut out another caller on this incident who had more information
simply because he or she felt the 911 enhanced information was enough?"

Roy didn't have anything to say to that while the two of them ran
cautiously to the nearest window to look for a body on the floor.
When they got to a particular bedroom, the harnessed dog leaped
back into the house, utterly ignoring the fire around them.

"Hey!! You stupid dog.. Get back out here. What do you think we're
here for?!"  Johnny was worked up, and worried.

DeSoto let Johnny use that anger to heighten his awareness.
But he also wanted Gage secured onto a safety rope before he went
anywhere, too. "You going in?"

"Yeah.. The air's not hot yet. Looks like this fire started in the attic.."
Gage said. 

"Want an air bottle?" asked Roy, tying off a rope around Johnny's waist.

"No, that ceiling's firm, and the rest of these windows are already blown
out. Ventilation's good enough to enter for me. But what do you think?" 
Gage asked him.

"I agree. I'll give you two minutes. Uh,...follow that dog..." Roy pointed
with a glove.

"No kidding. Be ready for me, Roy. I'll bring em out one at a time if there's
more than one person in here.." Johnny said.

Roy fed Johnny slack as his jacketed partner jogged off through the flames
in pursuit of the anxious help dog. Then he got on his handy talkie
and gave a report. "L.A., Squad 51. We've got one going in on the west
side of the house on a lifeline with HT support. There's clear evidence that 
the house is still occupied. Also, send police assistance for crowd control." 
DeSoto said as concerned neighbors got a little too close on the effected 
house's lawn for his liking. "Folks, listen to me... Move back to the street.. 
It's not safe. Please,.. everybody...just get back." he told them.

Then Roy concentrated on clearing the window frame free of shattered
glass with his jacket halligan, shaving away splinters and sharp pieces
of melted stripping in a couple of sweeps. "Johnny?!" he shouted into his
HT. "You've got a minute left! Make it count in there!"

-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
"He would have to be orange in color. That d*mned dog blends right in.." 
Gage muttered as he searched, feeling around doors carefully before he 
kicked them in. 

He found a man in the last bedroom on the bed. He was an 
unconscious adult in his forties with shortened and crippled arms and legs. 

A phone receiver and cord was strewn and melted some distance from
the bed. It was apparent that he hadn't been the one to make the phone
call. Johnny looked at the worried, trained dog in utter amazement. The 
man was still alive, breathing shallowly.

"Good dog.. I got him.. Come on.. Let's go, boy.." Johnny said
as he hefted up the small man onto his back into a carry. The helper
dog whined and danced away from sparking embers that were burning his
paws and landing on his rich tan and white coat. "I've got your guy with me.
Now let's get out of here. " Johnny told the dog, giving him a shove back 
towards the dark window with a boot.

He tugged on his rope to let Roy know that he had found someone who
needed active rescuing. 

-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

DeSoto felt the pull back signal and he began peering into the window
again after Johnny. About thirty seconds later, Johnny reemerged, facing
backwards until he got his victim's butt perched on the window sill in preparation
for a dead weight shift with his fresher partner.

"He's already breathin' light.." Johnny warned, coughing out some thickening 
smoke.

"Where'd you find him?" Roy shouted, taking the man's weight onto a shoulder 
while he waited for Johnny to climb out the window.

"Exactly where the dog said he'd be.. In the back bedroom. I got some of his
medications in my jacket pocket. He's got a ton of them. I grabbed all I could."
Johnny said.

"Let's get him to the squad. You ok, carrying him?"

"Yeah.. just go get the gear laid out.." grunted Gage as he slung the man
back over his back once again in a vertical carry by the arms.

"Where's the dog? Didn't he stay with you?"

"He did. I know he did.. He was right behind me.." Gage said insistently.

"I'll tell Cap about him once he gets here." Roy said grimly as he jogged 
away. "L.A. called out the rest of the station."

Johnny looked back towards the house that was growing brighter and
brighter as the fire consumed more and more of its internal structure.
The window they had come through, was now completely obscured with
smoke and there was a sound of crashing debris as the ceiling gave way
just beyond it. "There's no going back in that way.." he whispered.
"I'm sorry, boy.. We've got to leave.." he called out.

Then there was no more time to waste.

Roy helped Johnny lay the man down onto the sidewalk near the resuscitator.
A quick check proved that the man had given up trying to breathe because of
all of his smoke exposure. DeSoto looked up. "He's respiratory arrested. 
Gimme the trigger.." he gestured at Johnny, who was trying to get his wind 
back while getting the biophone set up to send telemetry at the same time.

Gage passed it over with a correctly sized oral airway. "I'll scope him."

Johnny snatched open the defibrillator and laid passive paddles over
the man's chest around the sooty shirt Roy had torn open. "He's SVT."
he announced. Then he felt the man's neck. "Viable.. I've still got
a carotid.."

Roy nodded while he worked to deliver ample oxygen into the man's
lungs.

Sirens grew in the distance and it wasn't much time at all before Engine 51
appeared, sparkling red nimbuses before itself onto all of the sleeping
houses as it arrived on scene with Engine Company 24. 

Hank stepped out of the cab and gave another fire report on what he saw
happening in front of him. "Engine 24, cover the east side in full scba in
a frontal attack. Engine 51, wye line to a hydrant and supply Engine 24 with
water support. Battalion One, we've one victim so far with Squad 51. Assign
at least two responding ambulances. We can use the second on fire standby."

##10-4, Engine 51. I concur with your assignments..## said Battalion as he
watched the house burn.

Then Cap crouched down near Johnny and Roy."Need any help here?"

"Yeah, Cap. Patch him in, would ya? Johnny's still a little fried."

"I'm not overheated, Roy. I'm just worried about the dog.." Gage said,
holding the biophone against his shoulder as he panted, sucking in
the cool night air through his teeth as he recovered. 

"The assistance dog?" Hank asked.

Roy nodded. "He led Johnny to his owner and then didn't make it back
out again. We didn't have time to do a complete house search for
anyone else before our only way to the outside collapsed in behind us..."
said DeSoto sadly.

"Dogs are resourceful. Instinct would have driven him to cooler places.
Don't worry, we'll find him. And don't fret about missing a chance at
getting out another victim. Phone Directory says this man lives
alone.." Hank told him as he rubbed the sweat off the dwarfen man's
skin for a twelve lead reading with a glove. He placed the EKG monitor's 
limb lines carefully, too, and afterwards he switched on the machine and 
turned it so Roy and Johnny could see all the changes on the screen 
while they delivered their care. Then he placed the defibrillator and 
the opened drug box so that it was within their easy reach.

Hank got on his radio. "Marco.. Chet.. do a quick house search. 
We've a missing work dog somewhere inside. Keep safe in there and 
pull out at the slightest risk of further collapse. Have a fully charged 
hose backup team with each of you when you go inside.."

##10-4, Cap.. Looks like the north end of the house's not burning yet.##
Chet reported over HT. ##We'll both be going in there. Battalion's got
all of our accountability tags.##

"Copy that, Kelly." Hank rose with a "you're set" nod at his two paramedics.
"I hope you find him.." he told his men by the house over the radio.

"Cap, one more thing.. I've got this man's medications in my jacket over 
there. Could you get them out for me? I'm just about ready to give Rampart
my patient report..Maybe we could get a name off one of them or something
or a medical chart number that can clarify what his normal baseline
condition is." Gage asked.

 Cap retrieved Johnny's abandoned, smoking, jacket from the lawn and 
dug around until he found them. "Are there five bottles?"

"Yeah... just the five. thanks.." said Johnny, already focusing on the voice 
coming over the phoneline.

Hank made himself useful at Battalion's side monitoring the battle against
the fire. The wind blew up several times despite the darkness and that made
the chief order up a standing water curtain to protect the surrounding trees
and homes nearest the blaze.

Gage spoke to Dr. Early after grabbing a page full of notes from Roy.
##Rampart, this is Squad 51. How do you read?##

---------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Photo: Johnny and Roy put on helmets, night squad close.
 
Photo: Squad drive by night city.
  
Photo:  Fire burn house far night.   

Photo: Springer spaniel close at night.  

Photo: Gage squad acknowledge night. 
 
Photo: Roy and Johnny at night turnout check window. 
 
Photo: Gang night hose burning house.  

Photo:  Battalion 10 or 4.  

Photo: Gage back carry man night.

Photo: Gage with HT outside night.

Photo:  Roy and Johnny treating a non-breathing man, with biophone.

Photo: Stoker in engine. Cap, Marco discuss at driver door, night.  

**************************************************
From: Patti or Jeff or Cassidy <theaterhost@voyagerliveaction.com> 
Date: Thu Jun 29, 2006 4:54 pm 
Subject: Good Things Come In Little Packages..
 

##Go ahead, 51.## said Joe Early. ##I read you loud and clear.##

Johnny sighed as he watched Roy grab what he knew he
needed airway and cardiac medication wise."Rampart, we've 
a male, approximate age, in his mid forties. He's a victim of 
acute smoke inhalation. He's currently unconscious and respiratory 
arrested on assisted ventilations at fifteen liters. The datascope is 
showing a nonspecific supraventricular tachycardia with an irregular
widening QRS interval. Pulses are palpable. We're sending
you a strip: Leads Twelve. Request permission to start an I.V. 
Also, there's a pre-existing physiological complication. Our victim 
has severe achondroplasia.."

------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Dixie McCall, who had just joined Joe in the receiving alcove, 
looked up. "Dwarfism? That could get tricky if it's due to osteogenesis
imperfecta. His bones and cartilage might be extremely brittle."

"He's survived to the age he is. That's a good sign in those kinds
of cases. Usually, brittle bone syndrome kills those afflicted before 
they even have a chance to leave their childhood years." Joe 
turned back to the base station radio and pressed the talk button.
"Go ahead and start an I.V., 51. Make it Normal Saline and run in
250 cc's initially to offset the effects of shock. What are his vital signs?"

##Rampart, vitals signs are : Left arm BP, 82/60. Right arm BP, 70/44,
pulse is 170. Skin is cool and diaphoretic. Pupils are dilated.
There are no signs of surface dermal burns. Breath sounds: His chest 
is bubbling in the upper trachea just below the vocal cords on auscultation. 
Deeper lung sounds are clear. But his PaO2 perfusion is growing poor.##

"10-4. Position the patient to ease ventilations and prepare to intubate
either with a pediatric EOA or ET tube. If necessary, prepare for a rapid 
sequence induction using ... 51, what do you estimate your victim's weight 
to be?" Dr. Early asked.

------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Roy looked up at Johnny as he bit the packaging off a 1000 ml saline
bag. "80 pounds, maybe..."

Johnny quickly nodded his head in agreement, for he had carried the
man for several minutes. "Rampart, we are pretty sure he's around
eighty pounds or so."

##Ok,..Then prepare one to two mg/kg of ketamine, I.V. for a paralytic 
agent only if the esophageal tube placement's unsuccessful. We can use
its brochodilating effects.## said Dr. Early. ## I'm reading atrial fibrillation
with Wolf-Parkinson's-White syndrome. Looks like his heart's atria are 
getting pre-excited, so avoid any AV nodal blocking agents like adenosine 
in order to slow his rapid cardiac rate. I'm banking on the intubation process 
to do that for us manually first, through a little vagal nerve stimulation. He may
cardiovert back to normal on his own during the process. But be prepared
for V-Fib at any time and treat him accordingly.##

"10-4, Rampart. After our victim's airway secured, I've a medications 
history to relay to you." said Gage and he set the phone down to relay
to Roy what their orders were.
 
##Understood. I'll be standing by..## answered Joe.

---------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

"Careful, Joe." McCall grinned. "You're starting to sound a lot like Kel with 
that using-RSI-to-slow-the-heart move." said Dixie into Joe's ear. 

"And why shouldn't I use a such a good idea as that? Kel's not a top
notch cardiologist for nothing, you know. The less electricity used on someone.."
Early chuckled, raising both eyebrows at her.

"...the better." Dixie completed for him. "Uh huh, I know. You learned that
one from him, too. I'll go call for a cardiologist and respiratory therapist for 
him. Let me know if you get a name, I'd like to pull all of his medical records 
and have them ready for everybody before he arrives."

"Call an orthopedic specialist, too. He may be more familiar with electrolyte 
imbalances than any of us are  concerning this man's adult/child sized body."
added Joe.

"Today, it'll be Dr. Keenan." Dixie said, leaving the room.

Joe turned to wait for an outcome from Station 51's two paramedics' current 
treatment effects. ::They've more  to worry about on their hands right now than 
they probably realize.:: he thought privately.

-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Johnny looked at Roy once he had a patent I.V. up and running into
the man's arm. "What sizes do you want?" Gage asked, referring to
the Broselow tape color coding system.

"He's a blue.." DeSoto said very fast. "A 5.5 uncuffed ought to do it. I couldn't
get the EOA in worth a d*mn. He's spasming too much." Then
Roy looked at Stoker, who was using an ambu bag very carefully, to
artificially breathe for the man. "Get ready to hyperventilate him on my
word. It'll be about sixty seconds after I get this paralytic injected. He
won't bite down on your suction tube when this goes in, all of his muscles 
will get relaxed until I'm done. All right?"

"Yes." said Stoker, checking the liters left on the oxygen tank he was
working from. He called for a second one over his HT from the nearest 
engine when he saw that its level had slipped below 500 liters psi. 

##More O2, on the double.## Cap affirmed when he heard the request.

"Here's a 14 stylet and a 2 straight bladed laryngoscope." said Johnny, 
passing the instruments over that he had torn free of the intubation set he 
had laid out on the man's stomach. "Want me to do it?"

"Nah, I'm good. Prep the ketamine with a two hundred cc bolus, and
hook it up, piggyback until his O2 sats are high enough for an attempt."
said Roy, looking at the EKG monitor's pulse oximeter readout.
"He's just at 94."

Gage nodded at Lopez. "Ok, Stoker.. Knock yourself out. Nice
and easy. I've got the cricoid hold against distension." he said,
grabbing the ring around the sweaty man's trachea with a couple
of fingers. He pressed down on it slightly while his other hand
started delivering in the sedative.

Roy got busy, aligning himself onto his elbows at the top of
the man's head. He whistled, piercingly, without turning around
or moving from his position until a fireman flicked on someone's
squad headlights so he could see what he was doing. 

Deftly, he slid the man's tongue out of the way to the right with
his intubation blade. He felt the jaw lift up and loosen as
the medication began to work. "I got em.." said Roy as he
saw the white vocal cords shot through with swollen venation.
"I'm through.." he said, advancing the endotracheal tube to
around fifteen centimeters."Ok. Stoker, reattach the bag here
and start in while we listen for placement."

Johnny looked up at a anomalous blip from the EKG monitor.
"He's gone bradycardic. Rate's fifty. I'm giving him .5 mgs
atropine I.V. and pushing it, until you've decided that you're
through monkeying with him..." he prodded.

Roy grinned at being teased and kept listening in all fields 
around the man's chest for the man's new breath sounds. 
"Equal bilaterally. No gastric noise. Right first time."

"That's why I let you do it. I'm not very good with the little people.
I haven't seen enough of em yet.." said Johnny. 

"Felt no different than a four year old child." DeSoto admitted
while he marked off on a piece of tape where the tube settled
along the man's lips. "He's at 15.5 cm." he reported. "And that
21 gauge butterfly's working like a charm here.." he said, eyeing
up the I.V. bag's drip chamber. 

Both paramedics turned their attention back to the EKG monitor.

"He's nearly normal. Elevated sinus rhythm at....120. I can
live with that." said Johnny, turning up the I.V. to hurry their
patient's fluid replacement. "Let's see what 250 cc's more'll do.
I'll just bet we can get him down into the nineties by the time
we get to Rampart.."

Roy grabbed up the biophone. "Rampart, we've established
an endotracheal tube. And I've learned that there's some
erythema, and a deposition of soot in his throat above the
vocal cords."

##10-4, 51. Deflate your tube's cuff to minimal levels, even to
the point of allowing a small leak, to prevent iatrogenic tracheal 
damage since he's already been compromised. Continue to monitor
his vital signs every five minutes and transport as soon as possible.
Nice work, gentlemen. His EKG's looking more than just adequate.##
said Joe. 

Gage grinned from ear to ear. "Hey, Roy, Stoker, would you
look at that? They found him.." 

DeSoto and the engineer straightened up to see Chet and
Lopez running with a four legged burden. 

A dog pound crew met them, and took the light brown assistance
dog into their arms, wrapped in a yellow shock sheet. Cap
tapped Marco on the shoulder. "Nice job. Now go get
the squad's nearly spent first oxygen cylinder from over there 
and go see what you can do for him.."

Gage got Lopez's attention when he caught on to what he
was doing. "Here's a fresh mask.." he said, tossing a non-rebreather
at the fireman for the dog. "How does it feel to be a hero?"

"Awfully nice." answered Chet for Marco. "Thanks, Gage. I'll
let you know the moment that sweet little mutt wakes up." 

And with that, Kelly and Lopez were gone.

"Huh." Gage said after they had gone and were deeply involved
tending to the dog's breathing recovery needs.

"What?" asked Roy, covering up their patient as a pair of Cadillac
ambulance men strapped him onto their wheeled gurney.

"Guess that 911 system really works." Johnny summed up simply.

"What makes you so sure all of the sudden..?" asked Mike, who
was still being the stricken man's lungs on the bag valve mask.

"Somebody had to call out the dog pound to come treat him
and take him to the vets.." said Gage in exasperation. Then
he started smiling. Hugely.

------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
Johnny and Marco, along with Chet, were at Rampart for their post
fire physical examinations, waiting for a treatment room to open up.

Dixie was having fun egging them on. She said....

-----------------------------------------------------------------------------

Photo:  A sooty Johnny Gage on the biophone.

Photo:  An intubated, bagged man on a CPR board.

Photo:  Roy preparing a shot at night.

Photo:  Joe Early on the intercom at Rampart.

Photo:  A datascope defibrillator showing sinus rhythm.

Photo:  An endotracheal tube sliding past vocal cords.

Photo:  City workers treating a smoke succumbed dog
             with oxygen.

**************************************************
From: Patti or Jeff or Cassidy <theaterhost@voyagerliveaction.com> 
Date: Fri Jun 30, 2006 3:53 pm 
Subject: The Clever Means.. 

"I've never seen an ansier trio of nervous firefighters in all
my working days.." she giggled. "It's just Dr. Morton who's gonna
be giving you fellas your exams, not Dr. Frankenstein.."
mused Dixie.

"It's not the raising the dead part that I'm worried about..."
mumbled Chet.

Gage smacked him on the arm for impropriety.

Roy, the designated driver as their medical followup on
Cap's orders, broke right in. "Uh, Dixie.. how's our man
doing? He..seemed to be coming around a little on the way
in."

"He's holding his own. A bit of Albuterol ended that tracheal
spasming that you were dealing with in transit. And I've just
heard from the dog pound that his dog, Trip, is gonna pull 
through just fine, too." McCall grinned, taking a sip of her
coffee.

"That's wonderful. It's about time we pulled a live pet out
of a burning house again." smiled Marco, looking pleased.
He high fived celebrating hands with Chet, who immediately
winced when a small burn was palm slapped.

Johnny grabbed his wrist and shoved Chet's hand back into
the bowl of ice water where it had been soaking seconds before. 
"Ah, ah, ah....This is only first degree, Chet. If you don't want it 
to blister into the second, chill out." he glared.

"Is that a pun?" Roy asked his partner.

Dixie lost it completely. A minute later, she composed herself
enough to ask on the latest of the mine fire that they had all 
experienced first hand. "So, what's being done on the property
now? Is the whole place still a death trap?" she asked the
gang.

"Not anymore.." replied Gage. "The fire department found an 
engineering firm who's developed a heat resistant "grout"
to pump in on the fire. It's a mixture of sand, cement, fly ash, water 
and foam that oozes in around all the burning material. Headquarters
is coining it 'Thermocell', because it's helping to cut off the underground
fire's oxygen supply while allowing the blaze to cool down a whole bunch."

Chet added more. "That stuff is being used to fill that trench tunnel 
I was overcome inside of to bury the illegal canisters of acetylene
stacked there. Would you believe those things Marco saw
were being stored only ten meters from an exposed coal seam."

"Acetylene?! Isn't that highly flammable?" Dixie exclaimed,
setting her coffee cup down with a thump.

"OHHhhh, yeahhhh.." said Kelly empathetically pursing his lips. 
"I could have been blown sky high on top of getting asphyxiated 
then. The barrels are all drowned now but the danger's not quite 
over yet."

"Oh? How so?" Dixie asked.

"Unmined coal can smolder when exposed to air only one seventh of
that on the surface.  Especially the bituminous coal being found in
this part of California." Chet answered. "Nope. Looks like
that underground mine fire's gonna be burning on and on, for centuries.
That's thanks to some jerk who parked a backhoe on that road without
washing off the tires first before leaving it there."

"What happened?" asked McCall.

Roy elaborated. "Coal dust is opportunistic. It can spontaneously
combust without warning in certain specific conditions of temperature
and humidity. For the previous two days, the backhoe had been mucking 
out slag and coal collection ponds to remove coal fines.  A security guard 
failed to notice a fire that started on the backhoe rear tire the morning
we got there to handle our emergency. Facility personnel believe the 
cause of the fire was those coal fines, which had adhered to the tire, going
literally up into smoke. Some of the thick coal mud in the ponds had not 
been exposed to oxygen until it was churned up by the tires of the backhoe.  
It's blatant negligence that some worker ignored instructions to wash 
his equipment vehicle's tires when he left those ponds for the day."

"And that's why the surface road failed.." murmured Dixie, putting two and
two together.

"Umm hmm." nodded Johnny. "The coal vein underneath all that asphalt
caught fire and absolutely powdered all the concrete making up the drive
in just a couple of seconds."

"Now how is the fire department gonna put out THAT fire?" Dixie
wondered.

Marco told her. "The fire's gonna be extinguished by injecting gaseous 
nitrogen into the crevasse over all the hot spots. It'll be easy getting in
there because some pavement's still intact."

Chet contributed. "And the rest of it's gonna be fought with foam smothering
bore holes, tunneled side shafts into which water can be poured, and
digging out the glowing coal veins that are actively embering."

Dixie sat back onto her stool. "Sounds like you boys've done 
all your homework with this incident."

"We sure have." said Chet. "Anything that's likely to kill you in short order
always gets dissected and solved before it can happen to someone else."

"Especially in our line of business." added Lopez.

"I shouldn't wonder.." McCall smiled.

She looked up when Dr. Morton appeared around the corner, wearing
his stethoscope.  He noticed them, stopped in his tracks and he beckoned
impatiently at them with a finger. "Ok.." sighed Dixie. "Who's gonna be first?"
she asked, eyeing them all.

The fire sooty three fidgetted and played a quick game of paper, scissors,
stone where the young doctor couldn't see them. 

Roy crossed his arms over his elbows and watched with mild amusement 
for an outcome.

Gage lost. 

" *Groan* " Johnny grimaced. "Looks like it's gonna be me..." he
said, hanging his head.

Johnny Gage took his post fire examination and blood test,.. like a man. 

----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
Later that day in the station, Roy looked up from his newspaper.
"How's your arm?" he asked his partner.

Johnny made a face and flexed his sore inner crook sporting a band-aid.
"It still hurts." he sighed.  Then he dropped the ice bag he had been
holding over the bruising. "What is it about doctor these days? Why do
all the teenaged zit faced lab technicians always seem to know how
to draw arterial blood gases better than the doctors they all work for?"
he exclaimed.

Chet didn't look up from the couch where he was brushing Boot.
"Maybe it's because those doctor no longer have to sweat the small 
stuff so much because they know that all they have to do is snap 
their fingers and the menial work gets done for them."

"Highly unlikely.." Hank gruffed from where he was doing the lunch
dishes. "Don't doctors have to pass physical skills tests just like
paramedics do at regular intervals to keep up their certification?"

"Probably.." mumbled Roy, around his glass of milk. "I wouldn't
know for sure. Johnny and I just take orders from them."

"Speaking of orders. Guess who won that bet, Roy." said Johnny.

"What bet?"

"The one we kicked around getting to that 911 call this morning..."
Gage said pointedly.

"Oh..." Roy ejected, remembering. "Who won?"

"I did. The DOG made the call out to 911.. There's no question about it."

"How do you know that?" Cap asked, frowning. "Is a dog even smart
enough to know how?"

Bark!  protested Boot.

The gang ignored him, rivetted by Johnny's news.

"The guy was on the bed six feet away from his motorized wheelchair."
Johnny told them. "And it had manipulator arms on it."

The others blinked in total incomprehension.

Johnny sighed at their obtuseness. "It was parked on the opposite side
of the bed next to the window... Tell me how a crippled man in a fire
could make an emergency call about it,  then be so worried about
parking his wheels neatly out of the way long enough to collapse
onto the bed afterwards.."

Roy set down his glass of milk. "You're right. That doesn't make sense."

Chet leaned forward on the cushions, scrubbing Boot's ears affectionately.
"You mean to tell me that service dog knows how to dial 9-1-1?"

"Why not? A child can do it.." grinned Gage. "Why can't a dog? Especially
one who's smart enough to answer doors and open refrigerators after
beer cans on command.."

Kelly blew a raspberry at him. Then he murmured into Boot's ear. "Say, boy.
Go dial us all up a pizza. Heavy on the sausage..."

Boot barked and jumped off the couch immediately.

Gage grinned and gestured at the departing tail of their
station's mascot. "No sooner said, than done.."

The rest of the gang giggled warmly at his joke.


FIN

Episode Thirty Four, No Sooner Said..
Emergency Theater Live

---------------------------------------------------------------

Photo:  Morton, Gage, Roy talk in treatment room.
 
Photo:  Chet on couch making a face. 

Photo:  Johnny grinning at the kitchen counter.

Photo:  Roy, good smirk.
 
Photo:  Marco Stoker, and Cap, amused.
 
Photo:  Boot in a closeup.

Photo:  A mouth watering pizza.
 
Photo:  Coal fire bore holes in a road.
 
Photo:  An underground coal fire, spontaneously combusting.  


            
                            End Credits --  Episode Thirty Four (Fifth Season)
                                      
                                          §§     No Sooner Said..     §§


                                    :)   This episode is dedicated to mine workers everywhere.  :)
                                    :)   May they never be trapped without hope of rescue.          :)       

                                                                                                                                                                
The Story Unfolds...

Season Five, Episode Thirty Five..
 
 §§   Captain's Prerogative   §§
 
Debut Launch: July 1st, 2006. 
 
*************************************************
From: "rwein5" <rwein5eve@charter.net> 
Date: Mon Jul 3, 2006 7:08 am
Subject: Eye Opener..

He couldn't see the face behind the light. 

All he felt was the piercing pain down his left side and the 
chorus of bees that seemed to have settled in his head. The 
light shifted and he groaned, knowing that the cracked vocal 
strains came directly from him. 

Cap tried to shut his eyes against the forced brightness, but didn't
have the strength. Finally, the light shut off and a voice filtered
through the buzzing.

"Okay, Hank, good job. Just hang in there." the deep voice
commanded.

He wasn't sure if he understood the command, but it didn't matter.
There was only so much he was capable of doing right now. Images
began dancing in his mind as he tried to shut out the annoying real
world. Between the pain, the prodding, and the obvious demands for
him to comply, he let himself drift to the earlier part of his day.

That part wasn't filled with pain and anguish. That memory was
pleasant and filled with satisfaction.

Then the whirlwind of images picked up speed and he tried to make
sense of them. His addled brain set into overdrive and he felt the
spiraling descent into the worst part of his day; the part that
landed him here on an examining table with nothing but pain.. 
Yet the physical pain seemed to competing for his mental anguish. 

He desperately wanted to open his eyes and see the faces of his men.
However, that reality was no longer around. All he knew was the
despair of loss and the anguish of defeat; all because of his
decisions and his leadership.

He succumbed to the depths of his own reality where the crew was safe
and all was as it should be. 

A veil of darkness slipped around him carrying him away to a 
world of sleep. He groaned again.

Remembering . . .

----------------------------------------------------------------

Photos:  None.

*************************************************
From: "sniffles_76102" <sniffles_76102@yahoo.com>
Date: Mon Jul 3, 2006 10:15 pm 
Subject: Reverse..

 It had been a dark cloudy day. 

All the men had gotten to the station on time. 

Even Gage. 

They all had been on time for three shifts in a row. Cap
remembered that he made a bet with all of his men, stating...
"I bet you twits couldn't get here on time, all of you, for three
shifts..." 

Smiling, Hank looked around as Johnny came skidding into the
kitchen mumbling, "Sorry Cap, about being late."

Chet looked up and said, "Cap what would happen if we got here 
on time, all of us,"..he mused,  while glancing at Johnny, " for three 
shifts?"

Hank knowing how at least one of them would always be late, smiled
and said , "I'll hang the hose for you twits without any of you
helping me."

Well that time had come. 

::How could I have known that "C" shift had a lot of calls during the night 
and didn't have time to hang hose?:: Cap thought miserably while he was 
getting the hose hung off the tower and thinking about his men. 
::How DID all of my men get Johnny in here on time?:: 

He was still mumbling to himself, when he looked down... 
He immediately made another face.

All of his men were watching him from below the tower.

"Johnny, how come you can get here on time when I make a bet, but all
the other times you're late?" scowled Hank from where he was.

"Well, Cap. I couldn't let down the men... How was I to know that "C"
Shift left you these nice, soggy presents?" Johnny smiled up at Hank.

"Yeah, Cap. We HAVE wondered how the experts do it." said Chet with 
laughter in his voice as he gestured at the long spaghetti trails
of hose slowly moved upwards, one by one.

Stoker really never thought this kind of outcome would happen either.
Mike just laughed and didn't say a word.

Marco was smiling, when he looked around at the clouds. "Hey Cap, 
you might want to hurry a little. It looks like there is a storm coming 
in." he shouted up. 

"Do you twits have nothing else to do, except watch me?!" Cap said a little
testily. He hadn't hung hose in a long time and he was remembering
quite easily why he didn't miss it.

The men turned to go back into the station. 

They had just made it inside, when it happened. 

Lightning struck the tower and outside, the captain started yelling and 
screaming. They saw that he was being electrocuted as the tower 
came down through the window.

The firemen felt like the world had come to an end. They were still 
reeling at how the loud the crack of lightning and the boom of thunder 
had rocked them. 

They raced back outside and began circling the crumpled hose
tower where their captain lay entangled. 

Mike turned around and immediately called out on the alcove radio to 
headquarters. But he got no reply back. ::The lightning must have
zapped the radio transceiver.:: he thought.

Then he went to the engine, grabbed his HT, and tried once again 
to radio out to L.A. for help.

----------------------------------------------------------------

Photos:  None.
 
**************************************************
From: "rwein5" <rwein5eve@charter.net>
Date:  Sat Jul 15, 2006 2:41 pm 
Subject: Flashback

Being the best paramedic team in the county had had its drawbacks. 

One of the biggest drawbacks had to have been handling an 
emergency situation in their own backyard. 

Once the lightning had struck, both Roy and Johnny slipped quickly 
into their paramedic mode and had administered CPR. Chet and Marco 
frantically pulled away the heavy canvas hoses and cleared the 
area for the team. 

Mike was already at their side with the biophone and oxygen. Despite 
the intimidating wind and threat of a downpour, the crew of Station 51 
had stayed professional and persistent. A heartbeat soon began 
again, and by the time the ambulance arrived, Hank was reading
as stable and was ready for transport. 

A day of rest and monitoring... and Cap's visit at Rampart was 
promised to remain short. 

He had survived that one.

---------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

The scene played out in broken details as Hank continued to 
struggle to consciousness once again. 

Why he was remembering an incident from several years ago with 
such clarity, eluded him and further agitated his pain-riddled senses. 
He had survived then. :: But what about today? Will I survive the 
consequences of my last decision?:: he thought.

"Hank?"

The tunnel of voices spun away again. He tried hard to listen, but
only shook his aching head in frustration." . . .aghh . . my . .men?" 
he whispered.

"Hank? Can you stay with me? Hank . . ?" prompted the question
again.

Stanley felt a softness against his forehead as the gentle voice 
made its way to his confused mind.

"Hank? You need to let me know where it hurts? Can you hear me?"
it asked.

Cap decided that he couldn't open his eyes nor find the strength to
reply back.

Dixie looked up at Joe Early as he continued to assess his newest
patient.

Early sighed, putting away his stethoscope.
"I don't know, Dix. We need to see those X-rays before I can do
much else."  he told her, indicating the backboard that Cap had
been strapped to.

"I know. I just wish he was more coherent." she said.

Hank restlessly moved his arms and legs, attempting to find control
in the physical world and not succeeding. " . . Roy?"

Dixie tried to soothe the injured fireman.
"Shh, Hank. Everything is okay. You're at Rampart and we're
working hard to make you more comfortable."

Hank heard some of the words, but felt no relief. The depth of his
anguish and pain radiated from his groans and the vision of his
latest dream still taunted him. "..jus' lightning . . But thank G*d
they all ...stayed okay while getting to me.. " he swallowed dryly.

Dixie frowned at Cap's mismatched facts as Hank mumbled 
through his current pain. "What is he talking about?" she wondered.

Then Early pointed to a detail on his chart. "Two year ago, Dix. 
That was the last time he was hurt like this."

Dixie hung her head and once again tracked the fast flow of I.V. fluid
out of the drip chamber that was delivering badly needed electrolytes.

She knew the next few days would be tough as the fireman discovered 
the outcome of this latest rescue. Details were still scarce as the rescue 
effort continued. Despite her need to attend to Hank's injuries, McCall 
also wished she could be at the base station to hear the latest from the
command center.

" . . jus' search  for. . my . .men.." Hank tried to roll to his side as
another wave of pain rolled through his back. "..My decision . . "
he grunted when the immobilization measures he was under, stopped 
him.

Dixie took another blood pressure reading and noted the tears
slipping from Hank's clenched eyelids.

"Hang on, Hank . . You have to hang on." she whispered 
"Absolutely everything possible is being done to try and find them."

The door to the treatment room opened and Carol peeked in. 

Joe and Dixie looked up briefly to acknowledge her presence 
and both of them flinched at the look on her face.

"They've found Roy and Chet. Life Flight is bringing them in now."
said Evans.

--------------------------------------------------------------------------

Photos:  None.

**************************************************
From: "Champagne Scott" <chameleonkate@hotmail.com> 
Date: Mon Jul 17, 2006 7:46 pm 
Subject: The Staining.. 

Out in reception, Gage was impatiently waiting for
a police car to take him back to the site of the collapse.

A voice startled him from a nearby chair, breaking into
his whirlwind nightmare.

"Please tell me the truth, Johnny. How bad is it out there?"

Gage turned, struck numb with recognition when he saw 
Joanne DeSoto, rising to her feet with a kleenix clutched
tight and mangled in her hands. 

The exhausted fireman paramedic cast away his glance 
with a curious, pained reluctance as he took her palms
in his own.

Firmly, Roy's frantic wife reached out for his fire jacketed
arm. "Please. I know you're under orders. But... I want.." she corrected
herself. "I have to know what to say to the kids..They need hope." 
she moaned, fighting crippling fear.

Gage renewed the tight grip he held, holding Joanne's sweaty,
chilled palms in both of his own while he fought the stinging tears 
in his eyes. He looked up, lost for words. ::How can you 
relate a horrific disaster like this? :: he thought. "I can't. Not yet. 
I.. I-it's not over yet." he whispered. 

"Oh, Johnny. He can't even fight back. There's no fire."
Joanne sobbed in the tiniest of voices.

The shreds of Gage's remaining courage, built back up during the 
hour it took for him and working crews to free Captain Stanley from
the building, fled like burst fruit and he found himself clinging 
to the wife of his friend like a needy child. "It's so hard. I.. It's
hard." he choked. "But he's not..." Johnny broke off. "They're
not...gone. Not yet. I know I'd feel it if they were." he sighed.

Joanne separated softly and wiped the traces of weeping from
Gage's plaster dusted face. "I trust you, Johnny. And the
others, just as deeply." she half smiled through barely veiled
underlying panic.  

A stab of anger coursed through Johnny when he remembered
the last order Captain Stanley had given him, that he had given
ALL of them. . ::He was dead wrong. Why didn't he see that?!:: he
raged inwardly. On the outside, he held his face in professionalism.

Gage nodded, firming up his mouth. "It's only a matter of time 
before they're found. Every available county fire station's been 
mobilized. And most of the city's." he said of Los Angeles.
"They're moving fast, Joanne. And they're sifting very carefully with
their best dogs. I saw them beginning already when I had to leave..." 
he broke off.. " ..leave with Cap. That's the hard part about being a 
paramedic. You're tied to your current patient, whereever he goes. 
You have no choice about it even if you want so badly to go back 
to help in a search.." he choked. 

Mrs. DeSoto immediately took him into another desperate embrace. 

"Shh," Joanne soothed. "It's ok. One thing at a time. We mustn't
fall apart. Not now. Roy needs us to be strong. Chet, Marco, and Mike
are counting on that, too. Oh, Johnny.. Close your eyes if you have to
from moment to moment, but just trust yourself to do your job.... 
...I do.." she pleaded.

Gage swallowed hard and blinked. "You're right. You're absolutely
right. I..."

"Fireman Gage.." came a nurse's voice from the desk.

"Yeah?" Johnny said, moving quickly to her side as he returned his
heavily scratched and stained helmet to his head.

"They're bringing in your partner and another named Kelly from your 
engine crew." she said, pointing to the scanner and the backs of two 
doctors, leaning over the base station inside the glass receiving room. 
"Dr. Brackett left standing orders. He thought you two should know." 
she told him. "They're both alive but their reported conditions are 
rated as serious."

"How are they coming in? By rig or by chopper?"

"By air. On the same flight.They're on approach right now with Station
8's paramedics." she said.

"Thank you.." Gage said, grabbing Joanne's hand eagerly. Mrs. DeSoto
needed no encouragement to follow him out the ambulance entrance
doors to the helicopter landing pad. "Now Joanne. Stand where I tell
you to stand and don't even think about moving closer once we
get there." he told her firmly. "The rotors have a nasty reach."

"I understand.." she sobbed, longing to see her husband.

Blinking in the fierce daylight, Johnny took Joanne to the edge
of the parking lot and put her slightly behind him to shield her
from all the flying landing debris. He could just make out Craig 
Brice's bent form working a suction tube on someone through the 
cabin window. 

He got on his HT to their call channel. "HT 8. This is HT 51. I'm
outside to help you transfer to your rendevous point."

Joanne saw Craig's head snap up in recognition at Johnny's broadcast
and the real private reason that he was actually there. Brice offered
the two figures below an encouraging visual thumbs up through the 
glass panes as the large red and white helicopter touched down
cautiously into place.

Roy's wife practically melted against a bordering palm tree. "Oh,
thank G*d." she sighed over the roar of the spinning props.

Gage gave her hand one final squeeze and then he ran out in front 
of the pilot to await his flashing hand signal that it was safe enough 
to approach the side door. 

He got it half a minute later. 

Then the chopper door cracked open to reveal...

----------------------------------------------------------------------

Photo:  Johnny sad in close up.

Photo: Joanne DeSoto clutching a kleenix.

Photo:  Station Ten leaving base at night.

Photo:  Station Ten firefighters rushing with equipment.

Photo:  A building collapse site seen from the air.

Photo:  Brackett boarding a chopper.

Photo:   Brice in close up, looking down.

Photo:   Victims of triage, lining a road, bloodied
              and bandaged.

************************************************** 
From: Jeff Seltun <finiterider@yahoo.com> 
Date: Wed Jul 19, 2006 11:28 am 
Subject: Transfer of Care.. 


...the unmistakable shape of Roy's feet and body, lying
under a yellow shock sheet in a stokes. Johnny saw
that he was unconscious and firmly head and neck 
immobilized, but he was entirely without an ET. "What's 
his Glasgow?" he asked Brice as he grabbed an edge 
of the basket stretcher along with several hospital orderlies 
to help pull DeSoto out of the chopper.

"Nine. We found ligature around his neck from electrical
wires. He's started not being able to handle secretions
just a minute ago, but we've seen no obvious deformity
of the underlying structures in his neck. Resp rate's twenty
six. Here, take this.." shouted Craig, passing off a suction
tube to Johnny that he had placed openly on Roy's exposed 
EKG cabled chest. "His lungs are still sounding clear. If
you need it, the ambu's right there." said Craig, pointing
to the clear green bag valve mask assembled and waiting 
off a regulator cracked oxygen tank lying in between Roy's knees.

"Ok."
Gage saw that Roy had dark facial congestion with faint centralized 
cyanosis above well demarcated petechial hemorrhages from his
neck on upwards, above the shallow cut the constricting wires had
made. Both of his unseeing half cracked eyes were shot red with 
high pressured in blood and his tongue had swelled out around
one side of the oral airway. "Just the strangulation?"

"Yeah.." said Craig. "Quit breathing on us for a few seconds while
we were digging him out but his sats got up again quickly after
a few shots off the ventilator. No rib fractures at all. We guess he
was protected by the main support beam we found lying over him."

Johnny sucked out another surge of bloody saliva from Roy's mouth
as they carried his dusty stokes over to a safety braked, bare 
mattressed, and wheeled gurney. "His EKG's holding. Sinus tach. 
Bump down the I.V.  His intervals are shortening."

"Thanks. I got it." said Craig, dialing down the Ringer's crammed
under Roy's shoulder. "Babinski's is normal on both, but we
collared him anyway."

"Craig. Joanne's here. We gotta plan out what to tell her."
Johnny gasped while they pushed Roy closer to the 
edge of the parking lot.

"John, we'll think of something." Brice said with a half smile. 
"How about,.. 'Don't worry. He's nowhere near dying?'"

"That'll work." grinned Gage.

"Sure it will." retorted Craig. "Because it's true."

They were still inside the dangerous hundred foot flight zone 
when Roy's stomach began rippling forcefully.
That halted them all. 

"Hold it. Hold it!" Gage ordered, anticipating a possible need 
for a rapid log roll. "Is he choking? Or vomiting?" 

Craig bent over Roy with a penlight, who had been rapidly tipped onto his 
side so Brice could look into his mouth and clear it with the suction tube. 
"It's just nausea. The general swelling inside's still about the same."

Gage spoke up, having snatched the stethoscope from around Craig's
collar. "Breathing's ok.  And still no thrill or bruit." he said, feeling and 
listening lightly over Roy's carotid arteries, one at a time. "Got it all?"
he said, holding Roy's oxygen mask nearer, on continual blow by.

"Yeah.." said Craig, removing the last of the gastric debris leaking 
from Roy's mouth. A strong sound of empty air sucking inwards into
the tube announced the task's completion. Brice sighed in relief. 
"Ok, guys, let's go.." he told the attendants as Johnny repositioned
the O2 flow back over his partner's nose and mouth firmly.

"Easy. Easy.." Johnny said as they set DeSoto onto his back once
again and elevated his gurney's head a little higher so the stokes
would angle up along with it. Only then did Gage give a glance
back towards Chet who was beginning to be eased out of the hot 
running chopper, attended by Brice's partner, Bellingham. 
"How's Kelly doing?"

"Non specific head injury. Reacts to pain but he's got an unexplained 
unsteady low BP that isn't reacting to a fluid challenge."

"That's why he was flown? And the reason for the mast suit?"
Johnny asked, pointing back at the attendants now carrying
Kelly's stokes to a second gurney waiting a safe distance
away from the helicopter.

"Yeah." Brice told him. 

"What else did you find on him?"

"Not much else. All quadrants were soft. We found no ecchymosis 
anywhere past his forehead and his right shoulder. Does a broken
pinky count as serious trauma?" he joked. 

"Maybe his hypotension's due to inhaled fumes or something." Johnny 
replied, grinning.

"It might be that. He's got some rales bilaterally that the oxygen
isn't clearing." Brice shared.

Gage paled uncontrollably when he did the next natural thing.
He asked about his coworkers.

Brice met his eyes fully. "There's still no word. But the dogs
are reacting positively. Someone's still alive under the debris
and they're getting excited right over the spot where your men 
were ordered in."
  
Johnny fought his emotions for a long moment. Then he shook himself.
"All right, I'm breaking away to go handle Joanne. Thanks for
their updates." Johnny said, reluctantly releasing the brachial
grip he had on Roy's weak arm pulse.

"No problem." smiled Brice as he loosened his helmet's chin strap. 
Then his expression changed. "I'm sorry all of this had to happen, 
Johnny."

Gage sighed at the repeat of Brice's rare usage of his first name. 
"So am I, Craig. So am I... Our captain waded through the worst 
possible situation call imaginable. And unfortunately, he's gonna
have to live with what he did along with the all the rest of us."

"It's a real tough break. Is the chief here yet?" 

"No, but he's gonna be and I don't think I wanna be there when 
it comes time for Cap to start facing all the music." Johnny said, 
eyeing up Roy's EKG monitor one more time. "That flow rate's good, 
Craig. Lock it off. His tach's slowing." he said as he ducked down 
to leave the hospital workers and station eight's paramedics to 
finish conveying Chet and Roy into Rampart.

Seconds later, it would have taken a hydraulic spreader with jaws
on full to break Joanne away from her husband's side. Her tears
gone, inner strength took over solidly in their place. "Roy, I'm 
here with you and Chet. Johnny's here, too. So's Hank. Don't 
worry about anything you don't have to worry about. Let the doctors
do the hard part for you, love. Can you feel me holding your hand?"
she said loudly as they entered through the ambulance doors.

Dr. Brackett met both firemen and Kel triaged them right there 
in the entryway. "Tardieu spots?" he noted as he peeled up
Roy's eyelids with both hands.

Craig nodded. "And the beginnings of dysphagia although I
can't tell if it's cranial nerve IX involvement or just due to
posterior or lateral pharyngeal wall bruising. We've had
to suction out his airway twice during the last three minutes."

Kel nodded, and turned to a very closely listening Dixie McCall.
"Dix, order the standard trauma blood studies: CBC, electrolytes, 
and all warranted blood chemistry levels, blood type and cross-
matching. For his imaging studies, I want plain-film radiography in 
a 3-view series of the cervical spine to look for emphysema, fractures, 
displacement of the trachea, and the possible presence of a foreign 
body. 

"Craig, when we get into the presurgical room, I want you to establish 
a second intravenous access in that arm opposite the side of this 
injury." he said pointing to the soft sign nonexpanding hematoma that 
Craig had told him about over the radio at the scene.".. I want that option 
working in case disruption of Roy's ipsilateral venous circulation has 
occurred." Brackett said.  "Has his breathing been noisy or impaired 
at all following that apneic period he suffered during extrication?"

"No, doctor." said Brice. "He didn't complain of tenderness over his 
larynx or trachea even one bit before he blacked out. I didn't feel 
anything out of the ordinary there either."

Brackett palpated Roy's throat cautiously down to the shoulders. 
"I agree with your findings. But let's err to the side of caution. Dixie, 
prepare Roy for an emergent intubation. He's starting to show an 
increasing inability to suitably handle his secretions here. While 
he's being intubated, tell the respiratory specialist I want him to 
look for obvious distortions of any neck landmarks, tell him particularly 
to watch out for tracheal deviation or the existence of large amounts 
of subcutaneous air. I'll join up with him in a minute."

Joanne stepped forward, looking startled. "Wait a minute. 
Johnny, Kel..I thought you both said my husband was doing all right.." 

"He's doing fine all things considering, Mrs. DeSoto." said Kel, taking her 
aside while he waved the orderlies to move Roy on into a nearby treatment
room. "But Roy may develop hard signs of an arterial injury, include a 
resumption of expansion in his neck bruising with severe active or 
pulsatile bleeding. He may develop shock unresponsive to fluids, or start 
showing signs of a cerebral infarct, with or without the presence of a bruit 
or thrill and diminished distal limb pulses. 

"Virtually all patients with newly developing hard signs of an arterial injury 
require operative repair. And for that possibility, Roy will have to be fully 
airway protected and anesthetized or things might quickly become 
problematic in very short order."

"But what if he gets better on his own, Doctor Brackett? Sticking a tube
down his throat sounds a little bit extreme to me." she said worriedly. 

Kel bent over Chet, beginning Kelly's quick survey after he glanced
over Bellingham's notes on him. "Mrs. DeSoto, soft signs, such as 
stable bruising and absent paresthesias, do not improve the predictive 
value of an arterial injury any more than guessing its wound proximity to 
a major vessel just by viewing what the area looks like. The fact that we still 
have a clear presence of both carotid pulses doesn't exactly exclude 
a vascular injury, nor would a sudden absence of a strong pulse 
on either side be indicative of vascular damage. We won't necessarily 
have to perform surgery on Roy today once he's been secured. 
But he needs endoscopy regardless to reassure everybody that his 
trachea truly hasn't been structurally compromised. Before inserting 
any scope, we will confirm that his airway is patent, intact, and thoroughly 
protected before we begin anything. Also, as a side hedge to that ace, 
his films will reveal beforehand, all possible cervical spine disruptions. 
Afterwards, once he begins to reawaken, we can begin 
checking for neurological deficits. ."

"Roy might be paralyzed?!" Joanne quailed.

"It's always possible. We won't know whether or not he
is until he's conscious." Brackett told her frankly.

Joanne sucked in her breath, not willing to face such
a disturbing idea. 

Brackett knew that as a fireman's wife, Joanne would always
appreciate brutal medical honesty before anything
else concerning her husband's condition. So he went on.
"Not only was Roy's spinal cord vulnerable how he was
injured, but so were other neural pathways like the phrenic, 
recurrent laryngeal, and lower lying cranial nerves, as well 
as the brachial plexus bundle.  Additionally, detection of 
a neurological deficit may signify damage to the carotid 
or vertebral arteries with subsequent CNS ischemia.

"But then again, anything adverse that happens in the future
could occur only temporarily. When pressure is exerted 
on the the carotid vessels of the neck, a decreased level of 
consciousness occurs, but only sometimes, will contralateral 
hemiparesis result because of it, mimicking stroke-like 
symptoms." Brackett said.

"What should I be on the look out for later on, doctor?"
Joanne asked, studying Chet's half conscious, wincing
face while Kel palpated his injured shoulder around
the splint.

"Any drooping of the corner of the mouth, vocal hoarseness.
An inability to shrug a shoulder while rotating his chin simultaneously
to the opposite shoulder, like someone would do while putting on
a T-shirt over one's head. Any sideways deviation of the tongue 
after he sticks it out at you. Tell us immediately if that happens.
Especially if he thinks it's jutting straight out perfectly..."
Kel suggested. "These are all abnormal cranial nerve signs."

"I'll watch for them." she said, moving off to the same chair in
the waiting room that she had been in when she first ran into Johnny
Gage ten minutes earlier.

Dr. Brackett looked to Station Eight's medic as he kept a hand
on Kelly's stomach to monitor his slightly rapid respirations.
"I've found suggestions of Zone I wounds right here. He might have 
suffered damage to his thoracic cavity.." he said, showing Bellingham
the faintest marks now just beginning to rise over Chet's collarbones. He  
mandated an order for a chest x-ray. ::I'll circumspectly review the film 
for a hemopneumothorax or a widening mediastinum with emphysema.::
he mentally planned out. "The crackling breath sounds you're hearing
could be due, not to gas inhalation, but to possible developing bilateral 
pleural hematomas. Nurse. Get another pressure. Stat. " he told the one
assigned to assist him with Chet. Then he asked his paramedic another
question. "How was he when you first uncovered him?"

Bob frowned thoughtfully. "Unresponsive to verbal but he was
self ventilating adequately. Unlike Roy, he never turned a bad 
color at any time."

"A point in his favor. Looks like Chet's proved once again that
he's got a head hard enough to survive just about anything. "

"Doctor,.. blood pressure is eighty over forty." said the nurse.

"Ok, let's get him into Three." Brackett grimaced tightly. 

-------------------------------------------------------------------------

Photos:  None.

**************************************************
From: "rwein5" <rwein5eve@charter.net> 
Date: Thu Jul 20, 2006 9:34 am 
Subject: Remembering the Call    

The clouds had moved in quickly and with little fanfare.  Gusts of
wind and lighting took turns dancing across the Los Angeles' south
bay area, leaving little evidence of their presence.  However, the
flash of a lightning strike danced too close to the tanker
unloading gasoline at one of the berths.  As the first spark ignited,
a series of explosions rocked the harbor and the calls began.

A muscle spasm shook his whole body as the lightning flashed again
deep in his dream.  A small moan escaped his dry lips and suddenly
his eyes opened to reveal the fear and dread that surrounded his
entire consciousness.  The reality of the bright and stark hospital
treatment room reminded him of his ongoing despair over their
assignment at the harbor.

"Hey, Hank, back with us?"  Dixie moved closer to the injured man
and began taking his pulse by gently holding his wrist.

"Dix?"

"You're okay, Hank.  You're at Rampart and we're getting ready to send
you to the OR.  Looks like you've some internal bleeding and we need
to get it repaired." she explained.

"News. . . ?  Anything yet?"  he struggled to make himself clear but
the words and energy were too hard to find.

"Now you need to concentrate on just you.  You know that everyone's
working hard to find them."  She didn't want to say much more
knowing how much he was already struggling.

"I shouldn't . . shouldn't of let them go back in . . . Too many tanks .. I
should've waited . . " Hank tried to get his words out and fumbled
over the attempts.  Tears of frustration began to build up again and
he clenched his fists.  "My decision . . " he whispered.

Dixie adjusted his IV tubing and turned as Joe re-entered the
treatment room with X-rays.

"Joe, he's coming around again."

Joe moved over to Hank's side and gently gripped the man's
shoulder.  "We're going to take you up in a minute and get this
bleeding stopped.  You're going to feel better soon.  Also, the ribs
look like clean breaks." he explained to Hank.

Hank looked back at Joe and merely nodded.  "Not okay . . . "

Joe patted Hank one last time and began preparations for moving him
upstairs.  The injured captain surrendered to the latest dose of
sedatives, his mind ebbing away from the dark reality of gas
explosions, lost men during the search and rescue, wrong decisions,
and lightning. 

------------------------------------------------------------------

Photos: None. 

**************************************************
From :  patti keiper <pattik1@hotmail.com> 
Sent :  Friday, July 21, 2006 4:47 PM 
Subject :  Twisted 

It was thirty minutes later, and Johnny was still waiting
for the axe to fall from Headquarters in the form of a grizzled
man in Battalion helmet white. 

He knew that it would only be a matter of time before the radio 
transmissions recorded on scene at the site of the blast would 
be reviewed and enacted upon, and dealt with in a harsh critique 
that was directly face to face with the known infractor. 
::Oh, Cap. I'm really trying hard not to think about that.:: he worried 
deep in his tired thoughts. :: I know all those kids were screaming. 
I heard em, too. And probably, for once, your instincts as a father 
overrode the ones you usually always carefully listen to as a fire 
captain.::

The federal building's front facade had been completely shorn away
by the pier's landbound tanker explosion. Nine stories now
yawned the gaping maw of a crater, filled with jumbles of
concrete debris, infrastructure piping,...and bodies.

It had been very clear from the onset that civilian fatalities were 
involved. ::The concrete... I can still see the blood between cracks.::
Johnny's memory moaned. He shivered again, draining yet another
cup of pot forgotten, scalded Folders. He shot to his feet out of
the chair where they all were inside the chapel, and a few feet's 
distance away from a softly praying Joanne. 

"Still thinking about them?" she asked him quietly after a long,
self conscious interval, heavy with powerful emotions. 

Gage didn't meet her eyes, and instead they found the flickering
flames of candles, dimly lit on the altar before them. "How can I not 
think about them? All that blood we saw on the fallen wall means that 
somebody just has to be on the other side. But d*mn it.." he sobbed. 
"We're dealing with eight to ten inches of concrete for each slab. And I 
can't help but think to myself,.. how are we ever gonna get through it?"

Joanne's eyes filled with sympathy instantly and she took Gage's
dirty hands into her own.

Gage snatched them away and rubbed his nose in a loud, stressed snuffle
of pain. "See? You can't get through it fast. You have to remove it. And yeah,
they're all doing it, piece by piece. But d*mn it all to h*ll, Joanne, it's not 
going fast enough for me." he said through a very tight throat.

Johnny Gage still vividly remembered how frustrating it was for him to 
crawl through the rubble, trying to get to the shoe on Cap's twitching right
foot, the only limb that had shown signs of any life inside the violently
force collapsed day care center. ::I can still see the way he
was... It's how the others might be,.. if they're still alive.:: he agonized 
mercilessly in his head. 

Johnny curled into a stiff, seated ball on the hospital pew, not accepting 
any tactile comfort from Joanne, who was seated beside him.

Then a form in surgical blue broke them both out of everything in an instant.

Mrs. DeSoto and Gage shot to their feet and joined the newly arrived
doctor. 

 "Chet's off the nasal P.E.E.P., and out of danger." said Dr. Morton, 
his voice mild and highly conscious of soothing subtlety. "His pulmonary
insult's rapidly resolving. And yes, Roy's just as stable as he is. 
It's looking more and more under the knife, scope and films, that DeSoto's 
just moderately carotid contused, if still a little raw internally. Rotund 
bradycardia has made an appearance. But it's been very reactive to 
only minimal doses of atropine. Not jarring him around much and his earlier 
cautious I.V. volume delivery probably accounts for his lack of serious 
complications now."

"That was Brice again and his usual brilliant outcome of care. " Johnny
said sarcastically. "Can't say I was there to help contribute much of 
anything for him. All I did was vacuum my neck stretched partner 
out a little and eyeball an EKG strip or two."

Morton chose to overlook Johnny's remark.

"Doctor...And Hank? How's he doing?" Joanne asked timidly, very
uncomfortable with Johnny's harsh, self defeating, spiralling bent.

Mike Morton sighed, pulling off his surgical cap.
"Kel and Joe found a small bowel tear on him in a lower quadrant. But it's 
clearly without fecal contamination. The fact that he was immobilized so 
fast in the field's probably what's gonna spare him the onset of any
form of invasive peritonitis. The most he'll probably have is a bad
case of cramping gas later after his digestive tract decides to kick
back on."

A page overhead, calling Morton to Emergency, sounded.

"Excuse me. That's probably another victim coming in. I've
got to go. Hey, you two. Things are ok. Roy and Hank'll be hitting 
recovery before you know it, all right?" Mike smiled.

Joanne and Johnny both nodded, still absorbing the news.

Then the sweat stained, disaster cowed resident was gone.

And that was the signal for Johnny's restlessness to instantly return.

Gage crushed his empty coffee cup and tossed it into a nearby
trash receptacle noisily, startling a few family members huddled
in prayer behind them as the sound shattered the peace of
the non-denominational chapel. They began to whisper in
understanding and they smiled encouragingly at the agitated
paramedic, knowing without a doubt that he was also someone 
who was...waiting.

For some reason, their unspoken, mute compassion irritated him
on a deep level. "I'm leaving the hospital. . Right now." Gage 
hissed, moving for the sanctuary's door.

Joanne swiftly intercepted him.
"You can't do that. Cap's in surgery.. So's Roy.
Now just what kind of friend are you if you won't be there, at their 
sides, when they both finally wake up and look to you to help them 
while they ask for clarity to release them from their own personal kinds 
of 'What happened?' h*ll?" 

"Why not? I'll tell you why not..  Because it doesn't look like there's 
any fire department official here who's got the guts enough to stop me."

Desperate and hurting beyond comfortable tolerance, Johnny
finally flagged down a taxi cab to take him back to his rescue
squad's location at the edge of the green zone.

------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
There was dust, thick and choking, in the blackness. 

Distant drips of falling water echoed through myriads of deeply 
buried tiny niches in the rubble underneath the government building's 
foundations.

Marco Lopez came to, moaning as he spat bitter plaster from
his mouth and throat. In the next instant, he hit the off button on his pass
device's distress beacon, silencing it.  Pain shot through his arms and 
head with the movement and consciousness wavered. 

Fright took over. Eye blind, Lopez felt around him for the size of
the space in which he was trapped. ::More air space. I'm gonna need
that.:: Then he remembered that he was not alone. He began shouting 
for his engine crew and two squadmates.  

His hand smacked into a helmet lying near his concrete pinned left side.
It wasn't his own. That one was still fastened securely to his head.
He felt the inside of its band for its engraved indent tag. "S...T...O..
K..." he whispered.. "Stoker?!" he shouted, feeling around desperately
for another warm body lying near his. "Are you here? Answer me!"

He found a pool of still warm blood next to his ear. In horror, Marco
wiped off most of the stickness coating his fingers onto his turnout jacket. 
::Why didn't I smell that?:: asked his mind. It answered bluntly. 
::Because you've got a concussion.. or worse. You were 
unconscious a minute ago..::  Lopez closed his eyes and concentrated
on his body and what it was feeling. Pain and senses slowly began returning
as panicked breathing and the realization of where he truly was hit home.

A rising stench of bowel matter and urine stung his nose then and he was 
aware of the soiled mess's cold dampness as it made his pants cling around 
his legs. ::I must have been out a while. Long enough to sh*t on mysel-...::

A snoring gasp choked above him, startled Marco out of his thoughts. 
"Stoker?!" And instantly, he knew that Mike was very near. Again, straining,
Lopez reached and blindly probed the cramped space surrounding him.

He found a head of hair, and when his hands disturbed the dirty mat,
he smelled the familiar scents of Old Spice and Johnson to Johnson's shampoo.
"It's you..Come on, pal." Marco gasped, feeling around for the direction Mike's face 
lay in the crush of dust and glass. He found Stoker's nose and mouth facing the
floor. Digging, Marco freed up a hole around them and he listened for another 
effort for continued breathing. "Hey,..take another breath in. Move a little!"
he begged.

Getting angry in his fear, Marco pinched Mike's face, in between two fingers. Hard.

A huge answering gasping inhalation rewarded him as Marco pulled himself
out from under a fallen pipe to cradle Mike in his arms. There was barely
room to lift his head and he cut himself on something sharp when he held up
Mike's head so he could easily reach air. A thudding, rapid neck pulse greeted 
Lopez's eager fingers. 

"OhhHHHh.. *gasp*...cough. cough cough...." Mike choked,
spitting out drool and dirt. Then came a rasping whisper
of a question. "Marco? Is that you?"

"Yeah. It's me, pal. Hold still until you're more awake." 

Mike didn't reply, falling into the same self survey of his body that Lopez had
done on himself a minute ago. Stoker just gasped and lay still where he was,
trying to read his throbbing injuries by concentrating on them, one by one.

"Are you better now?"
Lopez waited for Mike's answer as both men breathed in and out until their 
initial oxygen debt was completely gone. 

"I'm...ok.." Then he paused. "Who's bleeding?" he asked as his hand splashed
into the same gory puddle Marco had discovered by his face. 

"That's not mine or yours." he said tightly. Then he changed the subject.
"Were you near anybody when--"

"Yeah.. I was running towards a bunch of kids. Five, I think, when the explosion
came. Was that the tanker?"

"One of them..." Lopez grunted as he fought to move a hand down to his
pocket for his HT. He doubted that it was in working condition. For it hadn't
issued a single sound out of his pocket. "Where's your radio? Mine's..
fried."

"I had it out in my hand...*ugh* but it's gone." Stoker said. "Must've lost my 
grip on it when these floors came down on top of us." he gasped.

"What hurts?" Marco asked him, still groggy with shock. "Me? It's my head 
mostly.. And...I've got a piece of glass sticking out of my lower leg."

"Is it bad?" Stoker coughed.

"Not yet. Must be acting as a tourniquet inside. I'm not even bleeding that
much from there. How about you?"

"Same with my head. Pain.. I've got one h*ll of a lump." Stoker sighed,
as he ran his hands up and down wherever he could reach on his body. 
"My left foot's numb but I'm not trapped. You?"

"I'm free." Marco gasped. "Let's see if we can start finding our way outta
here."

"Wait a minute.. Let me wrap up that shard in your leg first to immobilize it.
Don't want you to sever an artery or worse." Stoker said, setting a hand
on Marco's neck to check the pulse rate there.

"ok..ok..ok....." Lopez sighed, resting his head on the ground as he
submitted to Mike's light status exam."Oh, man. Cap's probably beside 
himself with worry about our sorry *sses, eh?"

"That probably isn't even the half of it." Stoker chuckled, but then Marco
could almost see the seriousness fall over his coworker's face. "Was
it a bad call on his part? We did hear kids nearby."

"Mute point. Let's just concentrate on getting rescued. I, for one, wanna
see a little daylight here, real soon." Marco said, flipping painfully over
onto his right side as he gingerly felt the slant of the broken slab tenting
over them. Mike soon bound his leg and the glass shard with
strips from his overcoat that he had knife cut free, using Marco's helmet
as cupping protection over it. 

"I'm with you there. Let's go.. I think the harbor's that way.." and Stoker
began crawling into the mouth of what he knew was an impossible maze
of tangled spaces and twisted debris that had once made up a building.

---------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Photo:  Johnny and Morton talking.

Photo:   A chapel's red candles and cross. 

Photo:   A collapsing building from a distance.

Photo:   Cap in an anguished look.

Photo:   Stoker, Chet and Cap seeing catastrophe strike.

Photo:   A building falling.

Photo:   A fireman running away from a destroyed building.

Photo:   Johnny, crawling through debris after a man.

Photo:    Rescue worker's sifting through a debris pile.

Photo:   Marco, looking terrified.

**************************************************
From: "rwein5" <rwein5eve@charter.net>
Date: Tue Jul 25, 2006 4:35 pm 
Subject: Clarity

The walls were white, the ceiling tiles were white, and the sheets 
were white...and even the window blinds were, too. He slowly lifted 
his eyes to the brown door to his room, trying to decide why its color 
wasn't white like everything else. 

The fogginess of waking up after his surgery had faded since he 
was in the recovery room. Earlier, when he had fallen back asleep, 
it was obvious that this white room would be his new home for a few 
days. He cringed as he felt a dull pain shoot across his mid-
section. Clenching the crisp white sheets, he allowed for the pain
spasm to ease before opening his eyes. And again, he stared at 
the door.

"Okay, Hank, they're gonna be here soon. What are ya gonna do 
about it?" he whispered to the door. His headache had been 
reduced to another dull throb and he tried to sort out the many 
images that circulated in his mind. He recalled most of the details 
from the harbor rescue including his decisions. And he knew that 
based on the aftermath of the fire operation, he was in for some 
trouble.

"Why did ya do it, Hank?" he asked himself, settling into the
pillow. He continued to mumble knowing that only the door and the
walls were his captive audience for the moment.

"Why? I am the Captain and my crew is my responsibility." he said
quietly and with conviction.

"But, I also have the primary responsibility to the victims." he
paused. "Children . . ." he whispered, remembering the cries.

Cap cleared his throat and closed his tired eyes again. This time,
it was all black, no white walls staring at him during his monologue.

"The safety of everyone is my prerogative; my crew, the victims. My
decision. My authority. . . " he continued with closed eyes. He
willed away the taunting images of explosions and blood and in a
deep voice full of emotion, "I'm not supposed to look out for myself
here, only the people under my command, and for the people who 
need rescuing. My prerogative....R-right?" he sighed quietly.

The brown door opened and Hank opened his eyes.

-------------------------------------------------------------------- 

Photos: None.

**************************************************
Date: Thu, 27 Jul 2006 09:10:11 -0700 (PDT) 
From: "Cassidy Meyers" <killashandrarey01@yahoo.com>   
Subject:  There is a Balm... 


Unbidden, the heart rate on Hank's monitor sped up
and set off his tach alarm as two shadowy figures entered 
the room, shattering the quiet with chiming attention tones.

It was Dixie and Dr. Brackett.

"Sorry, Hank." said Kel, moving to the bedside to feel the
pulse in Cap's wrist as he eyed the EKG's screen in a check.
"Didn't mean to startle you. Next time, we'll knock before coming
in." he said, smiling. "You'll be happy to know that your abdominal
repair job was a piece of cake. There'll be no complications. We
found only a small bowel perforation and some kidney bruising.
Nothing that a week of bedrest and another month of serious down 
time won't cure."

::Wanna bet?:: Hank thought mentally, ..miserable.

Cap's face must have betrayed his true state of emotion, for Dixie 
set a soothing hand on his shoulder while she checked the flow of 
I.V. fluids and antibiotics moving through the pump.

Nurse McCall was as equally relaxed as the doctor, and she made sure 
that fact was not lost on Cap. "When Kel says you're fine, he means it. " 
she blinked. "How are you feeling?"

"You mean, besides feeling like a pound of hamburger run through
the meat grinder? I suppose I should be feeling lucky, all things considering."
said Stanley. "But I can't say that I feel much of anything except for
these staples right now." he lied.

"Easily fixed." said Dr. Brackett, turning up the auto dose of meperidine
on the I.V. pump. "There..How about now? I've set this for 1mg every
half hour. Should do the trick now that your general anesthetic's fully
worn off."

Cap closed his eyes in relief and just nodded, swallowing hard around
his n.g. tube that was drawing out red tinged fluid and the contents of his
stomach which he knew was the only thing holding any nausea at bay. 
He didn't feel much like talking anymore, even to himself. All he wanted to
do was give in to his medications. ::I want to deny reality for a while.:: he
thought. ::No man should face all that horror happening out there when 
he's not able to stand on his own two feet. It's not fair. I wanna know what's
going on. Every gory detail...Not knowing's cutting me to shreds and ribbons 
faster than Brackett and the other doctors can patch me up. Go on, coward.
Ask the next question.. Come on, Hank. Say it.:: he sighed privately. 
Finally, his dry lips opened despite his fear. "Any news, guys?"

Kel's eyebrows went up as if he hadn't expected that question so soon.
He finished getting a set of breath sounds over Cap's chest and he pulled 
the stethoscope out of his ears while he spoke. "You already know about
Chet and Roy. They're stable, with only moderate injuries. As for the
rest of your men, we h--"

There was a knock at the door which interrupted them. The raps
were soft, and respectful. 

Dixie turned to let that person in. "Ah,..that's the chaplain."

"Chaplain?!" Cap said, rising higher onto his pillow.

Dixie was no nonsense. "The FIRE chaplain. He called us and said he
was coming of his own accord a few minutes ago. Now just settle down 
Mr. Stanley, or you'll aggravate your catheters. Both of them." she warned.

Cap grumbled into silence, only then noticing the false feeling of urgency  
sitting in his bladder that was being caused by an inflated foley balloon.
"Fine. Ok.. Fine.." he gushed in irritation, fiddling with the gown underneath
the sheets so it wouldn't tug on the tube that was draining him of liquid waste.

"You'll find there's a shunt coming out of your incision, too. That's only 
precautionary to speed up the healing process." said Brackett.  

"Anything else medical I should know about?" Cap tried to grin for their benefit.

"That's it." said Dixie, marking down Cap's current I/O on his bedside chart
as she strode for the door. "Can I let him in now?"

"I guess I really don't have a choice here now, do I?" Cap snapped as he
scratched the n.g. tape stuck around his nose, gingerly. Then he amended
immediately, regretting his reflex sharpness."Could- could you stay with us 
a moment? I'm sorry. I....I'm not myself."

"Sure.." smiled Dixie and she opened the door.

Fire Chaplain Father Mychal Judge was still in his sooty turnout. "Hank. 
Had to come." said a strong faced, small boned, but tall fireman. "I figured 
you wouldn't mind." he said, studying Stanley's reactions as they flitted across 
his face. "I had a few minutes. And I wanted to tell you things myself."

All the animation on Cap's face disappeared as the moment he 
had been dreading came. Shockingly, he found himself rendered mute.

Mychal's lined face actually smiled. "Hank, they're alive. We can hear Stoker
and Lopez shouting from underneath a piling on the lower level. They say
there are three others alive with them. One of them is a child."

Hank's eyes filled. "That's.. that's good news." he choked gratefully.

"You bet your ever blessed, bruised butt it is. The best kind of news that I 
always go out of my way to deliver to people." said the mild mannered chaplain.
"That's definitely one of the reasons why I'm here at your bedside." said Father 
Mychal.

"And what's the second reason, Mychal?" said Hank, as he shook in relief, 
finally accepting a sip of water that Dixie held out for him to drink through 
a straw.

"I want to get you to stop snowballing the blame the surgical staff says
you're heaping a mile high on yourself so you can get some decent rest."
said Judge no nonsense. He immediately checked Cap's weak glare at Dixie.
"Now, now, she's not responsible. It was no one you know who told. Just a... 
civilian nearby who mentioned you. She overheard some of your delirium
while you were wheeling by her mother's room on your way to surgery.
A real compassionate soul if I do say so myself to take time to think of a 
total stranger first in spite of her own stress and troubles." Judge rumbled
happily.

A strange, vague feeling of forboding filled Cap as he settled down deeper 
into the pillows Brackett had arranged for him. "Father,..you stay safe out
there, ok? Watch your back and keep your helmet on."

Mychal Judge's eyes sparkled with a powerful faith, and he chuckled.
"There isn't a place I won't go if it's to save a soul, Hank. You know that. 
I'll go anywhere He tells me to without hesitation. It's a little like what you
did today to try and save those children. In my reckoning, you did what was 
right by you, instead of what everyone else expected you to do, as right by the 
job. And that was a real tough egg to crack given the few seconds in which 
you had to make the call. I know, for I was watching the whole thing AND 
listening in over the radio. I'll vouch for you personally during the upcoming
Skelly hearing. So don't worry about yourself anymore and I'll have none 
of those panged qualms for me. When it comes my time to go, I'm sure it'll 
be the right time in His eyes. I know it won't be today, Hank."

Cap nodded sleepily in affirmation, still oddly disturbed by
the faint impression he was getting while looking at the holyman. When he 
closed his eyes, he could see firemen all around a mortally limp Judge, 
bearing him from an incomprehensibly large place of death and dust, in a 
battered chair. The mental image was fuzzy and faint, but it was nothing like
a dream. ::More like a premonition?:: Cap shivered. ::I hope not.::

It was then Judge took on his official visit duties. He began to speak.
"He summoned the Twelve and began to send them out two by two.... 
They anointed with oil many who were sick and cured them. From Mark 6:7-13. 
Are any among you sick? They should call for the elders of the church and 
have them pray over them, anointing them with oil in the name of the Lord."
Mychal said, signing a cross over Hank's bed. "And their prayer offered 
in faith will heal the sick, and the Lord will make them well; and anyone who 
has committed sins will be forgiven. Amen. From James 5: 14-15."

Cap's sore, tense muscles began to ease as the intravenous pain killer
reached the last places still throbbing in his body. Hank found that he 
had been soothed at last by Judge's gentle voice and words. 
 
"Well, I'd better be getting back to the boys still doubting themselves out 
there. I'll stop by and see you later, Hank." said the fire chaplain with a 
friendly wave.  

Cap never remembered waving farewell in reply.
 
-------------------------------------------------------------------

Photo:  Dixie bending over a bed near an I.V. bottle.

Photo:    Cap in a hospital bed with an N.G. tube in place.

Photo:    NYFD Fire Chaplain Mychal F. Judge in turnout gear.

Photo:    Vision of a Fire Chaplain, fatal casualty.

Photo:    Building collapse near a cross.

Photo:    Fire crews taking water from a Harbor. 

*************************************************
From: Patti or Jeff or Cassidy <theaterhost@voyagerliveaction.com> 
Date: Thu Jul 27, 2006 3:33 pm 
Subject: Progress.. 
 
Gage wiped away the sweat and grit that was still stinging
his eyes as he hailed Rampart once again. "Rampart, Squad 51.
Our patient's now intubated with equal breath sounds on both sides."

##10-4, Squad 51. Keep ventilating him. Prepare to re-introduce another
paralytic to keep him controllable. Switch from the succinylcholine to
0.1 mg/kg of Vercuronium I.V. push. Follow up with 3 mg/kg thiopental  
every five minutes if he wakes up at any time while still paralyzed so
there won't be any chance of him panicking on you.## said Dr. Early.

"10-4, Rampart. 0.1 of Vercuronium and 3 of thiopental P.R.N. every 
five minutes." sighed Gage. Inwardly, he was happy that they were 
being allowed to treat all the witnessed nonbreathers located around 
the hot zone. Hazardous materials, beyond the burning oil spilled
from the exploded tanker store drum, simply weren't being found. 

::I'd give anything to be one of the paramedics assigned to Stoker
and Marco's location.:: he thought as he loaded up his man onto a
scoop stretcher for the transfer out to the safe green zone. Johnny
took advantage of a fireman new to the paramedic program to make 
his move. 

"Hey! Yeah, you! Take over bagging this man. Here are his care notes. He's 
Dr. Early's patient so talk with him while you take him in." Gage disassembled. 

The younger man bought it, still used to following more experienced 
paramedics' orders. ::The kid must have had one hell of a preceptor to still be 
that malleable.:: he celebrated as he made good his escape from another 
ride-in. ::Not quite against the rules here. This guy's my same care level, 
a paramedic, so I'm not, technically, abandoning my patient.:: 

A piercing hand blown horse whistle broke through the sounds of the heavy 
machinery being used to clear away paths leading into the worst of the 
rubble pile. 

Johnny looked up, donning another pair of clean, rubber gloves.
"Brice? Where are you?!" Gage hollered into his HT as he
watched the scenes of chaos as other paramedics treated the wounded 
on the pebble strewn parking lot's pavement. Rescue workers 
continued their battle to dig out those still trapped in the rubble. 

##Ground level. North. To your eleven o'clock. I'm waving an orange
safety vest.. See me now? Get over here with everything you've got. 
We've a woman Marco dug out and he's not that far below her position.
She's going sour.##

A few minutes later, Johnny was at his side, wearing nitrile gloves.

Craig looked up at him and snatched away the trauma kit and I.V. box even 
before Johnny finished stumbling over debris to get to him. "Did that probie 
medic prove gullible enough for you? I kinda gave him hints to listen 
to those medics who've more department years under their belts than him."
Brice said, matter of factly.

"I thought that was kinda easy. You devil, you.." Gage smiled, still dusty.

"Not devilish, Gage. I thought my behavior was colored more on the side of 
an angelic attempt to solve a problem." Brice corrected him.

"Same thing." Johnny said, unhelmeting and sticking his head and body into
the hole the other firefighters had marked as being the one Marco and Stoker 
were trapped inside of.  He quickly got his hands on the woman's head
and neck for a vitals check.

"Not exactly." Craig preambled.

"Well... Ok, same result, then. Are you satisfied?" Johnny exasperated 
from his upside down position in the hole.

"No. But you are and that was my whole point in setting up that patient switch 
loophole scheme. How's she doing?" Brice asked.

Gage grunted. Only his ankles jutted up from the hole, being firmly held onto,
by two burly L.A. city firemen. "Still checking.. Uh,...Gimme some clothes shears!" 
came his muffled voice.

The search dog who had discovered the two trapped firemen and their victims,
was growing more and more excited as time went on. His handler did nothing to
stop his antics. Everyone was more than glad to hear an overjoyed search dog
instead of listening to a depressed one on a death point. 

Brice made sure he scrubbed the dog's ears as he climbed by to get better 
access to the hole yawning between the two giant concrete slabs angled 
underneath him. "Good boy. Yes, you are.. Here, Gage. Catch..." he said, 
tossing the scissors down into the darkness. "Not you, boy." he warned
the dog. "Go play with your reward ball. Go on, get.." he teased.

"Thanks for these." Gage said. "Give me a minute more and I'll have 
her info for ya."

Brice hung a connected biophone receiver over his shoulder while he 
prepared five Lactated Ringers I.V.s in rapid order for their future use 
for the worse of the trauma victims down below.

Gage's voice soon came back. "She's semi-conscious but she's extremely 
diaphoretic. I'm seeing signs of a basal skull fracture with possible nerve 
damage behind both eyes; her pupils are unequal despite good verbal 
responses. She's got a broken nose, possible face and jaw fractures, 
and Marco says she's got six missing teeth. She's also guarding 
her ....left upper quadrant. Feels like it's getting rigid."  

"Ruptured spleen?" asked Craig loudly so Johnny could hear him.

"As far as I can tell. Yeah. Very likely. And two broken legs. Simple tibs on both 
of them, *grunt* ..uhh,.. right above the ankles."

"Here's the first of the O2. Two more tanks are on the way from the engine.." 
reported Craig. 

Gage accepted the rope lowered oxygen supply. Immediately, Lopez took
that task over and got some flowing amply for the critically wounded woman. 
"See, ma'am. Just like I told ya. The paramedics are here." said Lopez, biting
his lip as he slid his injured leg to one side away from Gage's view.

"Don't try to hide that leg on me, Marco. Don't you know I can't be fooled medically?
Truth now, did you rip open an artery on what I'm seeing impaled in your calf? If so,
you're gonna be the second one outta here."

"I don't think I did. Stoker and I bound it up pretty well when we first started crawling.
It's just plenty sore now."

"Sore as in how?"

"It feels like a dull, stabbing throb."

"That kind of pain's good when it comes to feeling things in the legs." Gage 
told him."Can you wriggle that foot?"

"Yeah."

"Good. Now hold that whole leg still until we get to you." Gage told Marco.

Lopez started sobbing. "Johnny...how's Roy, Chet, and Cap? We...Stoker
and I...saw them all disappear in a cloud of debris."

"They're all fine. They're probably out of surgery already and resting
comfortably. Now stay quiet. I'm tryin' to work here."

The woman was soon collared and carefully placed in a stokes that had been
sent down from above. She began talking nervously, entering a lucid period. 

"Ma'am, can you talk to me?" Gage asked her.

She did, but the woman couldn't focus her eyes on his face.
"I could see clear blue sky pockets throughout all the floors in the building 
after it happened. I realized then, what I was looking at. The six floors 
above me had blown up into the air and fell back down again. I...don't 
know how I came to find myself lying on a ledge above a chasm of rubble. 
I think the other floors fell on all the staff members who were in the meeting 
room with me. Are my friends ok?" asked Florence Rogers. "Have you seen 
them?"

Johnny raised his eyebrows at Marco but Lopez immediately shook his head.

Johnny didn't miss the hint and he deflected her attention. "Miss Rogers, take
a deep breath in, I'm gonna listen to your lungs to see how they're doing. Are
you having difficulty breathing at all?" he said, opening her shirt a bit at the 
torn neck even as he pulled the material from around her pant's waistline so he 
could get his stethoscope's drum underneath and over skin in all the right 
places.

"Just...a little. More because it's so stuffy....in here." she replied.

"Breathe in three times. Slow and deep."

She did so, losing concentration suddenly on the third breath when she forgot
what she was just doing.

"Ok..Marco, bump up her oxygen a little. Bring it to fifteen liters." Johnny 
requested, setting a sealed ambu bag into the stokes with the woman in case
it was needed later. "I'm strapping her in. Craig, her lungs are clear so far.
I.D.'s in her left front pocket!" he shouted up through the hole.

"Ok.." came Brice's disembodied voice above them.

"Got it." said Marco. "It's set to fifteen. High flow." Lopez replied.

"All right, now, Florence, here we go. It's gonna hurt, but I promise, my partner, 
Craig, will go slow. Holler if something gets real bad and we'll halt immediately." 
Johnny told his first victim.

Rogers closed her swollen eyes tightly in a prayer. "Just do it." she
gasped. "I can't stand being down here any-- any more." she gurgled.
"I....wanna live to see....another day. I got a little girl at home."

The shattered woman began to hoist upwards, inch by careful inch.

"Mike, how're your other victims?" Johnny shouted once she was
underway so Stoker could hear him where he was located 
out of sight around a tangle of leaking water pipes.

"The baby's fine. Not a scratch. The two men with me have minor 
injuries. One has a broken arm, and only cuts and abrasions on both."

"How about yourselves, guys..." Gage said as he directed the woman's 
stokes up through the hole using the guide ropes. "Don't leave anything 
out."

"We were both unconscious for a bit. Me? Deeper than him." Marco said. 
"You already know about ...the leg. I've got a slight headache. I can't 
seem to make...sense of certain things."

"You mean, as in recent memory?"

"Yeah. Uh,...where exactly are we? On Supolveda?"

"No. We're at the harbor. Keep your head up. This O2's for you." said Johnny, 
cracking open a second tank. "I'll take your blood pressure in a second. You're
getting a little hypovolemic because of some blood loss from your leg. 
I know you're not as seriously head knocked as you think you are." Johnny said. 
"Put this mask on and lay quiet. I'm gonna go see how Mike's baby's doing. I'll 
be right back." Gage said as he rechecked the dressings over Marco's leg. 
As he thought, hemorrhaging had begun again in that wound in earnest. He 
quelled it with a blood stopper dressing without disturbing the shard and tied it off.

"Ouch.. Easy with that!" sighed Marco, placing his dusty head on a concrete 
lump until he was comfortable. The hissing sound of the oxygen over his nose and 
mouth only made him sleepier. ::Maybe I'm just relieved the other guys are ok.
I hope I'm not really shocky at all.:: he wished. Then his awareness faded, and it scared 
him to no end when he realized that he couldn't fight it off. He blacked out.

"Marco?" Johnny asked.

Lopez didn't reply.

Johnny scrambled near once more and angled Marco's head back along 
a rubbled boulder after he was sure the fireman was still breathing well 
enough to manage by himself. "Brice, throw down a Ringer's! Marco's
just gone out on me due to a partial impalement through his lower right 
leg."

"Two bags coming right up." Craig anticipated.

Inwardly, Johnny both grinned and frowned at Brice's d*mn*ble but always 
incredible paramedic's foresight. ::And I'll probably need 2000 cc's, too,
to revive him.::

After fluid stabilizing Marco, Gage slowly worked to get 
through the small, cramped space to gather the rest of his medical 
surveys on the others.

--------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
One of the men with Stoker, sighed. "You mean, that wasn't an earthquake?
I never heard anything quite that loud before. What was it?"

Mike answered him, blinking grit out of his eyes. He had long ago taken 
his helmet off to use it like an umbrella over the whimpering baby cradled
in his arms. "That roar was the whole building crumbling down after the tank 
reservoir on the dock exploded." 

"That d*mn*d Oil Company. I told them that tank was leaking. It's been stinking
every morning when the breeze blows inland from the sea. Everybody in
the office's been smelling it for two weeks straight."

"Wait a minute. It was doing what?!" Gage asked him as he crawled a 
little closer to all four of them. "Why didn't you call the gas utilities?"

"We did. Numerous times. Not our fault that nobody did anything about it. 
If anything, the fault's entirely on your heads now. Don't you fire department
types regularly inspect oil wells for problems every month? Too bad so many 
people had to die today before--" the man broke off, completely shaken.

Gage filed away that observation as food for thought along with the man's
personal information from his Driver's License.

Johnny only delayed the baby's rescue by a minute or so. Long enough for
him and Stoker to carefully place her onto a papoose board for the trip up 
and out of the debris field. "Infant's stable!" he shouted at Craig.
"Stoker, are you uninjured enough to help me with Marco? He's next. Pop in
his OPA for me, would you? I thought he'd've reawakened by now." he
said, turning up Lopez's second drip chamber to wide open as he 
immobilized the first injured man's lower arm with his other hand.

Johnny watched Lopez accept the airway without flinching. But Gage
noted that Marco's face was still warm and only a tiny bit pale. Gage did a 
deep pain check and was rewarded with a grimace as Stoker bent close
to tend him.
 
Mike sighed and he turned his head when Gage's radio began chattering at him.
"It's in, Johnny. The crew's sending the stokes down again in half a minute. 
They have to check on a potential recollapse warning siren that's just gone off."

"Brice!" Gage shouted.

##Hang on down there. We're checking with the IC.## came Brice's calm
voice over the HT Johnny had out on a rock. Seconds later, Craig was
back on the frequency. ##False alarm. It was just dust settling. What'll come
down, already has, according to all the engineers we've got out here. You're free
to resume..## he reported to Johnny.

"We're on our way! Ok, Stoker, while we wait for the basket stretcher, help
me put a pair of splints on this arm and Marco's leg. And before you
ask, Roy, Chet and Cap are doing just great. All three are at Rampart. And that's
where we're going, too. I made sure of those arrangements way ahead of time." 
Johnny told the dirty, worried engineer.
------------------------------------------------------------------------

Photo:  Gage, digging under a house near a victim.

Photo:   Brice close, looking up near a debris field.

Photo:   Firemen carting away a double I.V. cath'd woman.

Photo:   A handler, hugging his search dog.

Photo:    Paramedics tending a roof top victim.

Photo:    A bloodied hysterical man being stair chair'd to safety.

Photo:    Johnny Gage, looking tense, outside in a closeup shot.
 

**************************************************
From: Patti or Jeff or Cassidy <theaterhost@voyagerliveaction.com> 
Date: Sun Jul 30, 2006 4:18 pm 
Subject: Blood is Thicker Than... 

 Mike Stoker finally allowed himself to relax way
inside, where all of his tension had wound the tightest.
::It'll be a long healing period for all of us physically.:: he
thought to himself as he watched Marco be loaded onto a gurney
in a prep to be moved to a waiting helicopter. He himself, had 
declined the offer to fly in a bird, using his right of choice to take 
an ambulance into the hospital. "See all the victims here? Now 
even though I'm not a paramedic, I know there's someone who needs 
it more than I do." he told Johnny from his gurney as he was blanketed 
and triaged.

Gage grinned. "That's the sound of a true fire station engineer's 
heart talking, Brice. Ain't it a wonderful thing?" he chuckled.

Craig nodded in agreement, pushing his debris dusty glasses
up a little further up his nose. "Marco's coming to. Those two I.V.'s 
are finally working." he said where he crouched over the bundled 
firefighter. Brice took the short airway out of Marco's mouth just 
as the waking fireman started protesting it physically.

"About time things worked. Knowing Marco, he just wanted to take
his usual afternoon nap time anyway despite being buried under
ten storeys of collapsed building." Johnny looked around them quickly. 
"Where's the woman?" he asked.

"She was flown out three ago. See it there?" Brice said, tossing 
a careless bloodied glove westwards into the sun.

Gage caught the sight of the tail end of the chopper as it crested
the last hill as it disappeared over the horizon. When he concentrated, 
he could just make out the air distorted thwap of retreating rotors over
the noisy, chaotic sound of heavy machinery still digging in search.
"Got ya. So, how many do they think are still out there?" he asked 
about trapped victims.

Brice's face fell. "Not many. Dogs have reacted to only two 
more places past your crew's hole on the whole site. I'm afraid the 
rest are....probably dead." he said quietly. But he immediately 
bolstered up his confidence again. "That child one of the city guys 
pulled out of the debris field's still alive. He was breathing on his 
own when he left. Got a chance to see him when the firefighter carrying 
him fast walked on by for the green zone."

"That's good to hear." said Gage. "That's.. that's really great. Come on,
let's get these two into a pair of warm beds at Rampart. Dixie'll probably
wanna baby them to death like she did Roy, Cap and Chet when
they got there."

"...sounds nice.." Lopez whispered in a phlegmy wheeze. "Me first.." 
he grunted in pain.

"Shush and let your epinephrine start working in peace without your 
jawing about things aggravating it." Gage chided him no nonsense. 

Marco ignored Johnny, his sense of self righteousness becoming
fully intact as rapidly as his returning consciousness did. "I don't 
remember all the details. Was I happy about being found?" he 
coughed, pulling off his oxygen mask. "What happened to me 
again after you got to us?"

"Same thing that always happens when you open a vein or two and let it
go too long. Your body decided to go on strike for a little bit. You'll
be fine now."  Brice told him, taking another blood pressure. "Your EKG's
showing that you're back to near normal."

"Hate to bust your bubble. But I don't feel anywhere near normal..."

"That's just your bruises talking. Trust Craig Brice on that one, Lopez.
He's a brilliant paramedic." Johnny laughed.

"Says who?" said Bellingham, walking up to the others to collect Marco's
red tagged evac orders. "I don't see no Floyd Nightgale here. Do you?
I'd know it if I ever found myself working with a Mr. Perfect Partner type."

"You gotta stand back a little to see the halo. You must be getting blinded 
for being so close." Gage told him.

The others smiled, including Brice, who did his with a strong dose of 
simple modesty.

Bob waved over two firemen to take Lopez away to the evac takeoff pad. 
"Well, the fire's out, at least around here. It'll be the rest of the day yet
before those tankers are doused properly. They're still having trouble
with tanker number twelve. Keeps re-igniting itself due to internal heat."

"No longer our problem..And never will be again." Johnny said empathetically 
as he gathered up the last of all their medical gear. "Come on, let's get out of
here. I'm getting really tired of the scenery around these parts. It's becoming 
too depressing for me. Fast."  he said, thinking about repercussions that would 
soon come Cap's way.

No one denied him that observation.

-----------------------------------------------------------------------------

Hank Stanley pulled up his car across the street from Station 51. He couldn't
find it within himself to park boldly in the backyard's lot like he would have 
done if circumstances weren't so disturbingly different.

It was mid-evening, and the station was deserted. ::They've rearranged the
FD response grid in our service area to work around our absent shift. They
don't have enough people to fill all our shoes while we're still gone like
this on medical leave.:: Stanley empathized.  

He hadn't wanted to come. Not really. Not when every familiar piece of
equipment, smell, and object in the firehouse would remind him of working.
::And that's a job that might no longer be mine come the end of the week.::
Hank thought miserably. ::I'm just torturing myself. Maybe I should just
turn around and go home.::

But Stanley turned his key in the lock anyway and let himself in.

It was already beginning to smell unused inside the office. He could barely
make out the scent of firesmoke left over from B and C's shifts from when
they punched out and left the station at the crack of dawn.

The sun was just setting...  It was usually Cap's favorite part of the day.
For it made the rec room and his office glow with warm, profuse daylight that
always offered to soothe any pair of tired eyes, worn from a fire call or bad child
medical. Sighing, Hank lowered himself down into his chair, kicked off his
sneakers and folded his tired feet on top of the neatly plastic tarp covered desk.

::It's been two weeks. And I still don't know what to do. I haven't even gotten
the letter talking about the disciplinary action that they're going to pitch against 
me yet. I know that needs to be disclosed first to me and my union 
rep before any official hearing's scheduled.:: Cap thought, biting his lip. He was 
not relaxed, and it caused his healing, still itching staples to ache over his 
tense stomach muscles. ::But I still hate the whole idea of this Skelly hearing 
thing. I mean, I haven't so much as gotten a single parking ticket since I first 
became certified with the fire department eighteen years ago. Leaving me in 
a lurch like this isn't fair at all. I wanna know a decision now. Before it drives 
me completely nuts!:: Hank fidgetted.

His restlessness drove him to his feet. He strode for the door and ran
right into a cloud of freshly percolating coffee steam, drifting in from
the kitchen. He dashed for the rec room carelessly, partially fearing
who and what he'd find once he got there. 

All five of his firefighters were standing around the kitchen table, not yet 
seated in their chairs, as they passed around a coffee pot. 

It seemed that they had been waiting for him.

They all set down their coffee cups when he entered and slowly, as one, they
all saluted him formally, in a respectful line as if they were wearing dress hats in
full uniform during a surprise inspection instead of loose fitting t-shirts and
blue jeans fresh off the streets.

It all but broke Cap's heart when he realized that he could still spot the signs of
injury in his men: Roy's Frankenstein's monster like stitches still in a ring around 
his neck from his emergency cervical dissection, Chet's shoulder sling, the crutches
Marco was leaning on so he could stand on his sore leg... But most of all, it was Stoker's
still blood darkened black eye that cut through him the most, for it marred the mild
engineer's usually shy handsome smile. He fought tears when he saw their unswerving
unspoken tribute and noted that they didn't break formation one inch nor their right 
handed salutes one millimeter, until he returned it quickly.

That released everybody out of a suffocating silence of uncertainty. Gage beat 
out all the others to be the first one to pull out a chair for their still stiff, and 
sore, captain.

Johnny said just three words as they waited for any kind of verbal reaction from
him with frozen nervousness. "...welcome back, Cap.." he said with a small 
tentative, ambivalent smile.

That released a Hoover Dam of emotions in Hank. "Oh, my word. I thought you all 
would absolutely begin to hate me after what I did to you." he gasped, eyes powder 
dry with shock and relief as the breath slowly returned to his body.

The gang bubbled forward with a gush of reassurances and 
shoulder pats and hand shakes. 

"No way, Cap." shouted Chet.
"Amigos siempre.." said Lopez.
"Whatever gave you that idea?" asked Roy.

"What's to hate? You're a likeable kind of guy. Even more so than 
me, Cap." Stoker insisted.
  
"And that's the truth.." Gage punctuated, setting an amply filled cup of coffee down
before Hank, complete with the bowl of sugar and the carton of vanilla cream that
they all knew he liked. "So there.. I'm afraid, you're still stuck with us.." he chuckled 
with a lopsided grin, gesturing in exasperated relief. "Drink up. There's plenty
where that came from. We couldn't just keep hanging around home either..heh."

"What are y-- what are you all doing here?" Cap asked, still not drinking. But
he held onto the warm cup as if his comfort depended on it like a lifeline.

"This came today. We sorta kinda saw the chief come out to deliver it."
said Chet uncomfortably, pulling out and sliding over an unopened 
Headquarters stamped envelope from a rear jeans pocket. "We all hid 
so he wouldn't see us. We...." he broke off but then finished his thought. 
"...didn't want ya to get into any more trouble just because we let 
ourselves into a station that's officially stood down for a shift."

"Can't get into any more trouble than I already am." admitted Cap.
"Give it here. I.....think I already have a pretty good idea what this is all about."
he said reluctantly. Hank sat down into his chair and he was amazed that
he couldn't seem to find the ability to make his fingers move long enough
to open it.

"Come on, Cap. Go on ahead. We're all with ya." said Kelly, firmly.

"Yeah,.." echoed Marco. "We're all in this together. So out with it.."

"And how. Go on,...Rip away..." said Stoker.

Trembling, Cap opened the letter...

_________________________________________________

Photo:  The gang at the kitchen table, in front of coffee.

Photo:   Gage and Chet overlooking a letter with trepidation.

Photo: Cap looking uncomfortably nervous in a close up.

************************************************** 
From: Patti or Jeff or Cassidy <theaterhost@voyagerliveaction.com> 
Date: Mon Jul 31, 2006 6:55 pm 
Subject: The Coup De Grace.. 

Cap didn't look up as he forced his eyes to move
over the crisp, neatly creased and letterheaded page.

 "This letter is official notification in a matter of discipline, 
SPB Case number 312-6 being filed against Henry A. Stanley, 
Rank of Fire Department Captain, NO. 97-06, City of Carson, 
LACoFD Station 51. You are summarily summoned to appear 
before an official arbitrator and the LACoFD Operations Commander
of the state of California on Monday,...August 12th,..0830 hundred 
hours..." 

Cap swallowed hard, trying to keep his voice even as he read on.

"You have been found to have committed a violation of Article 34 of the 
Los Angeles County Fire Procedures Manual, sections 171.105 
and 171.106. It has been ruled that you, the grievant, issued 
an Improper Fire Command Direction in a clearcut Protocol Code 
Violation, which resulted in the unnecessary direct endangerment of four 
of five firefighter personnel who were reporting to duty under your 
command on Wednesday, August 18th, 1976. The time in which
the infraction occurred was at 10:02 hours while your station was on scene 
at an oceanic pier fire incident located at 1700 Industrial Boulevard.
Evidence of your violation has been inarguably demonstrated on officially 
recorded LACoFD fire radio transmissions that were also overheard by the 
Battalion Incident Commander on co-current active duty on the same date.

"A severe reprimand action has been authorized to be rendered against 
you consisting of...." Cap broke off, his eyes filling. "Oh, is this really 
happening to me?" he whispered through dry lips as sudden hot tears 
blinded him. Hank crumpled up the letter weakily in two limp hands and 
sat back down, hard.

The gang was stunned into silence. Roy's mouth opened in grave concern.
"Hank, are you ok? It- whatever it is, it can't be that bad. I mean, we all went
into Headquarters and filed official statements saying that we all agreed
with your decision telling us to go in after those kids. Those must have 
had a positive impact,.. didn't they?" he asked timidly, scared.

Cap didn't look at him.

Gage immediately got mad. "Cap, now what did they decide against you?"

"You can tell us, man. Whatever they wanna do to you, we can fight it." 
said Chet firmly. "I'm sure our union reps can help us out that way. We've 
already found a steward to oversee you from the Carson City Area Firefighters 
Local 522 I.A.F.F., AFL-CIO."

Hank finally spoke. "Oh, and who's the best one for that? Can't be any of 
you guys. You all were the victims of my supposed wrongful action." 

"He's the best, Cap. Trust us on this one." said Marco.

"Yeah, we brought him here today just to see you." said Stoker.

"You what?!" bellowed Cap, quickly wiping his eyes on a paper napkin
that someone had pushed in front of him. "Don't you think that's jumping
the gun just a little bit? This arbitrary hearing's only to present counter
evidence to lessen any punishment, if possible. It's not a trial that takes
material witnesses like some criminal court case."

"No, but the Arbitrator may listen to character ones." said Craig Brice as
he walked through the vehicle bay doors. "Captain Stanley.." he greeted
formally with a small bob of his head. "If you'll permit me, I'd like to attend
your Skelly hearing in that function. I am, after all, a neutral party. I am not
one of your direct crew members."

Cap hesitated.

"Come on, Cap. He's also got total recall of the entire Procedures Manual
and Union rules. He's the perfect choice to mediate for you." Gage insisted.

Hank looked up tentatively, vulnerable. "W-what exactly does a steward do
at a Skelly hearing? I- I wouldn't know since I've never had one myself, nor
have any of my men under any of my commands throughout my entire career.." 
he said, still in an odd sort of shock.

Brice smiled, and calmly soothed everyone with his quiet, methodic voice.
"First of all, I need to know what they wish to do as your disciplinary action."

Cap looked up with numb eyes. "They want to fire me."

The room erupted in complete and utter denial. The gang exploded into
noisy empathetic complaints, pleading sympathy or anger on Cap's behalf,
until Brice held up his hands for silence. 

"Captain Stanley, that charge is most grievous, but we do have many 
recourses we can follow to challenge the action the Board wants to take 
against you. In Skelly, the California Supreme Court set forth certain notice 
requirements that a public employer must fulfill to satisfy an employee's 
pre-removal procedural due process rights. At a minimum, these pre-removal 
safeguards must include notice of the proposed action, the reasons therefore, 
which is contained in that letter you're holding." he gestured.  
"In addition, a copy of the charges and materials upon which the 
action is based must be provided to you. You also have the right to respond, 
either orally or in writing, to the authority initially imposing this discipline."

"I do?" Cap asked quietly, still getting a hold of himself. He was gripping
the edge of the table so tightly, that it was creaking.

Brice nodded. "Pursuant to Skelly, the Board enacted Rule 52.3, which 
provides in pertinent part: (a) Prior to any adverse action. the appointing 
power shall give the employee written notice of the proposed action.  This 
notice shall be given to the employee at least five working days prior to the 
effective date of the proposed action.  The notice shall include: 
(1) the reasons for such action, (2) a copy of the charges for adverse action,
(3) a copy of all materials upon which the action is based, (4) notice of the 
employee's right to be represented in proceedings under this section, and
(5) notice of the employee's right to respond...

Brice took in a deep breath. "That being, so far in your case, it looks like 
Headquarters is in protocol violation itself here." he explained suddenly.

"They are?" asked Gage incredulously.

"How so? That letter sounds like it's in very tight order.." said Marco.

Again the room filled with noise as everyone fought to be heard over 
each other, expressing their opinions and very great concern.

Brice put a finger to his lips to quiet them, and still smiling, he reclined his 
head. "There's no tape." he said simply, holding up the torn open empty
envelope. To emphasis his point, he turned it upside down and shook
it as if to look for the incriminating reel that wasn't there to fall out of it.

Gage began to laugh, darkly amused. 

And slowly, Cap began to grin, right along with him.

-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Fifteen minutes later, the firemen had laid out their plan of attack.

Craig Brice filled them in as to the nitty gritty details. "The purpose of the 
Skelly hearing is to determine only if there are 'reasonable grounds to 
believe that the charges against the appellant are true and support the 
proposed action.' In contrast, an appellant's right to discovery is broader. 
It includes  'the right to inspect any documents in the possession of, or under 
the control of, the appointing power which are relevant to the adverse action.'
Now,..." he sighed. "Many FD bureaucratic managers and supervisors do not 
understand Skelly rights, and they therefore often violate the rules. This can 
provide grounds for winning a grievance, because further arbitrators take 
Skelly rights VERY seriously. 

"Now we already know, that THEY know, that management must have sufficient 
evidence by the time of the Skelly hearing to support the proposed discipline.
But they may NOT know that employees, or their representatives, are entitled to 
the same access to the relevant documents as outlined by Code SPP 270.11 (b)
in the fire department manual.  Although they may try to doctor up a case against 
the employee after the Skelly hearing, this would still be considered a violation 
of the employee's Skelly rights. It looks like the employee, Captain Stanley, has not
been given a lawful chance to review the quote/unquote d*mn*ng evidence material. 
And probably won't be, before the disciplinary hearing's final action's administered." 

"Wait a minute. Wait a minute.." said Gage. "You mean, since Cap hasn't heard
the radio tape yet, that all we have to do is wait these five days out and
everything'll turn out just fine?" he asked incredulously. 

"Essentially,... yes. On Monday, file a grievance under the SPP or A&PS 
sections I've pointed out, and then at the second grievance meeting, just say 
that the employee should have the termination letter removed from his file 
because there was no properly supplied Skelly meeting documentary material 
supplied the grievant at the onset. Of course, you should make all other relevant 
arguments as well..." Brice concluded, adjusting his glasses. "Such as, 'We're 
not pressing charges.'.. etc. etc.." he smiled blandly.

Chet got into that big time.. "Yeah, and how about..Go take a hike, too!"

"Brice, you're a genius!" exclaimed Cap, grabbing Craig's hand and pumping
it up and down vigorously. 

"I guess." said Craig modestly. "Usually, everybody tells me that I'm a braggart."

"No, it's true..You are a RAVING genius!" Hank said. "Ok, uh.... so tell me, if- if- if 
I still keep you as my steward, what is your function, and wh- what's mine?" he 
asked, nervously sipping from his steaming coffee cup. 

The mug was shaking so bad, that Marco and the others had
to help him drink the mouthful he wanted, until Cap waved them away in irritation.

"This is what I, while working as a steward, usually do..." shared Brice. "One of the 
jobs a steward has, is to keep management from intimidating employees."

"They actually do that?!" Hank asked in horror.

Brice sadly nodded his head yes. "This is especially important in the case of 
closed-door meetings where supervisors try to force employes to admit that they 
did something wrong to prove a point and to prove that their punishment 
decision was the right one."

"Ok.. ok.." said Cap eagerly.

Brice went on. "Your right to have a union rep present in such meetings was 
established by the Supreme Court in the Weingarten case. The Court ruled that 
a worker is entitled to have a union rep present when a supervisor asks for 
information which could be used as a basis for discipline. This is another thing
that the Board who sent you this letter, did not do."

The gang chuckled again, finally more sure in their relieved feelings about
the whole situation.

Craig held up a finger in warning. "But management has no obligation to tell 
workers their rights, so employees may not know to ask for union representation 
before or during the interview. A steward can put such a request in writing, and 
direct the employee to keep a copy to back up any counter-evidence."

Hank nodded, paying close attention, his eyes finally dry.

"Now my role as a steward to you..." he went on. "Watch what you
say at the meeting because it really may be, and very often is, used against you
if any shred of defensiveness materializes. Keep your answers to their questions 
short and avoid volunteering any information. If you don't know an answer, say 
so and don't speculate. Most importantly, stay calm and reasonable. 
You aren't fired yet." Brice snorted, getting into his counseling with a little
animation.

The others murmured encouragements. 

Brice looked Cap in the eye. "Be reassuring. The union is there to help.  Also,
call management today and casually asked what the meeting is about. 
Don't assume you know what their agenda is despite this letter. Take good notes 
of what is said and by whom. Good notes of management's early positions can 
save your case neatly, especially with a mistake happening in your favor THIS big."
he said, lofting Cap's wrinkled letter. "It'll be my job to not let the supervisors harass, 
abuse, or intimidate you. I'll do this by saying things like. "Don't interrupt, he's trying 
to answer your question," or, "I'm afraid we can't continue with the meeting if you're 
going to shout." or, "Let's take a break and re-convene when you've decided what it 
is that you need to know," etc. As your steward, I'll have a lot of control over the 
atmosphere of this meeting. Don't worry. If we're surprised by another turn in
bad news or if you feel like you're beginning to become unglued, just nod, and I'll
say, "We're going to step out and caucus for about ten minutes. We'll be right back." 
This'll give us a chance to regroup and to discuss a new tactic to win the hearing, ok?"

"Thanks Brice. I owe you one." said Stanley, truly grateful.

"No you don't. What you did to try and save those kids was the right thing
to do. And I always defend anyone who's willing to do that any day of the week.
Now,..we'll allow enough time so that we can meet privately first beforehand and 
still be punctual. Don't be surprised if management is late or keeps you waiting. 
They often do this deliberately to remind you who's in charge. Ignore it. 
It's an old trick." Craig told him.

"Of all the low down, underhanded..." Hank growled to himself. 

"Patience, Cap." Roy reminded him. "We've always known that all the chiefs have many
tricks up their sleeves. I don't have to remind you of the ones Chief McConnike pulls
on you all the time for burning his hat once as a probie."

"No, you don't." Hank said, relaxing.

Brice continued. "Cap, introduce yourself, too, and shake hands with everybody 
in the room. You need to know their names for your notes, and it establishes 
you as their equal. Be polite, at least initially. If the situation warrants, you can 
express anger or disgust, but always remain professional. I like to be friendly
with the enemy, so I'm warning you in advance so you won't think that I'm 
changing sides. It'll be a sweeter victory when we deliver the coup de grace if
they've been buttered up a little.." he grinned broadly, rubbing his hands.
"Now as for the rest of you guys... Show up, dressed impeccably. And leave
all your bandages and crutches at home. "

----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

It was Monday, and Mike Stoker was the first of the injured firemen to 
be called by Brice to the stand to serve as an optional 
character witness at Hank's Skelly hearing. 

Stoker's black eye was well concealed under solid flesh toned 
stage makeup to the point of invisibility, a skill Dixie had plied generously.

Smiling, the shy engineer began to speak.."Fire comradeship runs very, 
very deep in our station. My ...faith in Hank Stanley has never been shaken, 
not even once, for as long as I've known him as my captain..."


FIN

Episode Thirty Five, Season Five
Captain's Prerogative
Emergency Theater Live

-----------------------------------------------------------------

Photo:  Brice shaking Cap's hand.

Photo:  Very thick procedure manuals on a desk. 

Photo:  Cap, Chet, Roy and Gage in close conference over coffee.

Photo:  Gage in a suit, looking calm and relaxed, listening.

Photo:  A representative confronting Cap, seated in a chair.
 
**************************************************

            
                            End Credits --  Episode Thirty Five (Fifth Season)
                                      
                                          §§     Captain's Perogative     §§


                         :)   This episode is dedicated to those rescue workers,                :(
                               survivors, and victims of the Oklahoma City Bombing
                               tragedy of 1995 and to NYFD Fire Department Chaplain
                               Father Mychal Judge, who died at the World Trade Center
                               on September 11th, 2001 while delivering last rites to a downed
                               firefighter when tower debris struck and killed him while he
                        :(     prayed for the dying who lay surrounding him.                           :(                                                                                                      

 The Story Unfolds..

Season Five, Episode Thirty Six..
 
 §§  Tower Drill    §§
 
Debut Launch: August 1st, 2006. 

**************************************************
From: "Derrick" <rescueman1962@yahoo.com>
Date: Thu Aug 3, 2006 3:05 am 
Subject: The Morning Blues

The crew of Station 51 had reported in for their tour of duty on a sunny 
but cool, spring day in the Los Angeles area. It had just thunderstormed
two days earlier, which forced a rainout of a Dodgers vs. Giants game at 
Dodger Stadium to which Chet and Marco had planned to go.

They were still less than happy about it.

"I don't know how come is it, when we go to a ballgame, that
it always rains." Marco complained to Chet.

"Well, consider it this way, pal. You can't stop mother nature 
from doing her thing. I guess we'll have to go some other time 
when the weather gets a little nicer." Chet emphasized with a
shrug.

"Who wants to see them lose again anyway?" Chet added. "It 
seems that everytime we go, they lose!" 

They watched with growing bemusement as Johnny Gage came 
into the kitchen, wearing a sulken face, grumbling. 

Chet looked up and asked. "What's wrong with you?" 

"What's wrong? I'll tell you what's wrong, Chet. My whole love life 
is wrong!" Johnny told him.

"Oh, really?" asked Marco. "What happened to you?"

"Before I knew it, Sue dumped me after our date Friday night and 
gave me the third degree about it.... Telling me that I'm a- a- a loser ...
and a perpetual slob. And then she had the nerve to call me a liar 
when I told her that all of that wasn't usually true. All I said to her
was that I had been working a lot of overtime.." 

Marco snickered and shook his head in sympathy during Johnny's 
conversation while he exchanged 'what else is new?' looks with Chet.

Chet rubbed his chin. "Johnny, you need help there. I mean, you 
really need...'help.' " he suggested gently, drawing finger quotes
in the air meaningfully.

Gage blinked a few times, until the suggestion sank in.
"Are you telling me that I should go see a shrink?" Johnny snapped.

Chet immediately looked away at the glare Johnny shot him
when the dark haired paramedic fired back at him in offended 
ire.

"Maybe that will be the best thing for you, partner." said Roy as he 
entered the kitchen, just overhearing the conversation. 

"All right. Ok...All right. I hear ya. Then, I'm.. I'm..crazy." Johnny told them all, 
throwing up his hands. "You all think that I am crazy? Well, I'll show 
you who's crazy by the time our shift ends. And Chet, you and Henry 
are..are just plum crazy, too!" Gage said as he pointed to the dog 
on the couch, who seemed to turn his head away from Johnny as if 
ignoring him.

Then Captain Stanley walked in, barely avoiding a shoulder check
with Gage as the angry paramedic barged out of the room and stormed
on past him for the quiet sanctuary of the vehicle bay.
Cap asked the obvious without even looking up from the daily 
mail he was sorting through. "What's been going on here?" he asked
matter of factly. "Do I sense a little unhappiness in the air?" 

"Just a little." sighed Roy, taking another sip of coffee from his mug.

"Oh. Coming from Gage? That's normal." Hank shrugged as he
sat down in a chair to finish his filing.

------------------------------------------------------------------------------ 

Photos:  None.

*******************************************************
From : Rampartbase <rampartbase@yahoo.com>
Date: Wed Aug 2, 2006 11:45 am 
Subject: See you later, alligator.. In a while, crocodile... Heh.

It remained a nice sunny day for the rest of the morning.

The crew at 51's were doing their usual chores and were 
about to have lunch soon, when the tones sounded.

##Station 51. Man treed by an alligator at Harper Park. 1100 
Santa Monica Blvd. 1100 Santa Monica Blvd. Cross street,
Watercreek. Be aware. Animal control has been notified and
they've responded that they are unequipped to capture it.
Time out: 11:06.##

Captain Stanley acknowledged the call. On the way, he
picked up the mic and said. "L.A., Engine 51. How big
is the gator?" he deadpanned seriously.

The reply came back. ##Eyewitnesses have estimated 
its length at six feet.##

"10-4." Cap hung up the mic derisively. Then Hank said to 
his crew. "We have to be really careful."

"Thanks for telling us. I don't think we could have figured out
that one by ourselves, Cap."  joked Chet as he jogged by Cap
to put on his turnout and helmet from the stow.

Hank made a face and threw a 'get in there' thumb gesture
at his wise cracking fireman.

They rolled out.

-------------------------------------------------------------------

Photos: None.

**************************************************
From: "Roxy Dee" <laterrapincabesa@yahoo.com>
Date: Fri, 4 Aug 2006 18:33:33 -0700 (PDT) 
Subject:  That Loyal Postal Stick-It-To-It-Ness~~ 

 
Station 51 rolled through the regional park's entrance, code three.
Surprisingly, a Los Angeles County animal control unit, wasn't
there yet.

A scream rippled out. It was female and very, very panicked.

The gang rushed out of their trucks, pausing at the edge of the 
parking lot to get their bearings on where the scream came from, 
but it didn't repeat.

Then a sharp eyed Gage spotted their subject on a tree limb.
It was a girl in her mid twenties, hysterically mute and trembling. 
"There, Cap. Near the eucalyptus. Forty feet to our ten o'clock. That 
ain't no man. I wonder who call THAT in?" Johnny said, snatching out 
rope coils and life belts for himself and Roy.

"Maybe it treed more than one victim.." Roy shrugged.

"Eh,.. the number of victims aside, I wanna know where that
alligator got to." Cap said empathetically, eyeing the ground and
the thick grass surrounding them along the lake's margin. He could
just make out the remains of a shredded german shepard lying just
off the jogging path.

"Stoker and I'll go look." Marco volunteered.

"Be careful. Don't these things like to charge thirty miles an hour
out of the water when they want something to eat real bad?" Cap
asked him. 

"I'm trying not to remember that.." Stoker frowned. "Don't think a 
charged firehose is the answer for this one."

Chet did the only other thing he could do. He grabbed out a bullhorn 
for Hank.

Cap snatched it up and turned it on. ##Miss, this is the Los Angeles 
County Fire Department. We see you. Just hold still until we figure 
out a way to get you down from there, o.k.?##

If the woman heard, she wasn't answering, petrified as she was.
Then she started panting and looking wildly around desperately
when she jerked at a sound that only she heard. 

"She's gonna fall for sure, Cap. She's panicking again!" Johnny said, 
running for the tree along with Lopez and Marco.

Roy got off the engine's radio. "We can't get a snorkle, Cap. 
L. A. says they're all busy at fire calls for the next forty five minutes
to an hour."

Hank thought a moment, then he pulled out his handy talkie. "Engine 51,
L.A., respond a Sierra rescue team to our location. We've a young
woman trapped thirty feet up a pine tree. Code three."

##L.A., Engine 51. Sierra Bravo has been notified. Their ETA is five
minutes by air. ##

Roy just looked at him. "Park rangers?"

"Why not?" Cap replied. "They're good with trees, wild animals,
and search and rescues. Go get the life net and back up the others
in case she topples outta the tree."

"Right.." grinned DeSoto, peeling off his turnout. He ran
with the folded encircled catch net quickly.

Cap soon became aware of four state personnel in blue running down 
the hill from the direction of the neighborhood houses on the cliff row 
above them. They were postal people, complete with their tan canvas
and bright flourescent orange handled mail bags. One of them had 
a portable scanner radio in hand. "Hold it, hold it.. Where do you think
you're going?" he asked them.

"To go help. Marve said he was in trouble with an animal on his route." said 
one man. "We always drop whatever we're doing to get a fellow postman out
of danger."

"Wait a minute. Wait a minute. Marve's a postman? What's he doing in the park?"

A hefty, African-American woman answered him, sternly. "Taking a short cut.
Now are we gonna hem and haw about this all day or our we gonna do something
for that poor girl?" she said, throwing a careless hand up at the woman she spotted
in the tree.

Right then, another dusty postman ran out of the bushes and joined them.

"Marve! You ok?" the mail woman asked. "We came fast as we could."

"I'm fine. I couldn't do anything for the jogger's dog. The alligator was
too big."

"Where is it now?" Hank asked, pulling off his work gloves.

"Right over there. About fifty feet. It's facing the girl's tree from
the shallows." Marve pointed.

"All right. Go back there and keep an eye on it, would ya?"
Cap thought for a moment, then remembered the safety net's
need for at least eight to hold onto it safely. "The rest of you,
circle around in the open and catch up with my men and take a hold
of the life net." They started moving. "But get there moving away 
from the water!" Cap reinforced. 

Just as Cap was about to join them, Les Taylor and Dave Gordon 
from animal control arrived,.. empty handed. 

"Where's your tranquilizer gun?" he asked them.

"Sorry, captain. An alligator's not a tiger. It can't be tranquilized
the way you think." replied Dave.

"Why is that?" Hank demanded, irritated and worried for his people
and the victim.

Les shrugged. "It's just their metabolism and the way that their blood flows.
We've eyeballed it. It's a male, and it's lean. It's probably starving."

Dave added more. "Being sick like he is, his metabolism is so low 
that if we tranquilize him, he'll probably drown after being darted."

"Then let's kill it." Cap snapped. He frowned when the two officers
in front of him looked at each other."Why hesitate?" he asked them.

"American alligators are a protected species. We've been ordered to
capture it with traps and take it alive." Dave shrugged.

"That's raising the risk for all of my men and those helping them."

"Sorry, sir. Only the police can overrule our supervisor for a use
of lethal force." Les told him.

"All right. Ok.." Cap said. "Let's see what we can do with what we've
got then, shall we?" he said impatiently when he realized that the PD
was nowhere in sight.

All three men soon joined the firemen and the four postal workers 
around the net. Half of them had their backs to the net while they hung onto
it, being lookouts, while Gage climbed the tree with a nimbly tossed rope.
He was moving slowly so that he wouldn't alarm the girl.

Roy spoke softly. "Miss,.. my partner's on the way up to you. It's ok. We..we
know where the alligator is exactly and it's not gonna hurt you." he said with
convincing confidence.

The girl didn't seem to hear him. She kept mumbling a dog's name over and
over again, her eyes dry and shocked. Her hands kept slipping on the bark
where her cheek rested as cold sweat drenched her. Once, both of her palms
slipped and she let out a yelp as she scrambled to keep her balance along 
the branch.

"Don't worry about falling. We'll catch you.." said Hank. "We've got a net just 
below you. Do you see it?"

The girl didn't react. She only gripped the branch tighter.

"I'm almost there..." Gage grunted to the others down below. "Keep her distracted.
If she moves too much here, she might miss the net before we can correct for it."

Suddenly, there was a massive sound of hissing and an explosion of water erupted
from the lake.

"Look out!" Dave shouted as the still hungry, large alligator charged them.

Before the firemen reacted, the five postal workers let out a holler of their own
and in a blink, they all leaped on the alligator's body, pinning its head, and very
dangerous thrashing tail.

Hank's mouth dropped open as Les ran to help them with a stout roll of duck tape
and a thick length of rope.

"Oh, my..." Cap gushed, not wanting to let go of the net he still held with Dave, Marco,
Roy and Chet.  The net wavered in the wind blowing off the lake and it was very 
difficult for the few of them who were left to stay under the tree and in a good position.

Stanley eyed the ball of postal workers and the animal control officer, tangling 
with the thrashing alligator. "They're all nuts. Absolutely nuts!" he exclaimed. 

Gage let out a shout of dismay that suddenly grabbed Cap's attention.
Hank whipped his head back to what he was doing.

The woman was falling towards the ground, off center to the net.

Hastily, the five firemen and Dave shifted the net desperately to encompass her,
but they succeeded in only catching the girl's upper body as she landed partially
in the net. Her waist and lower back pinwheeled over the edge of the lifenet's 
frame and she somersaulted vertically, feet up, before she hit the grassy ground
hard. 

Panicking, and in pain, the young woman sat up and was immediately
halted by Roy, who grabbed her from behind. "Easy. Don't move! You'll only
hurt yourself further." he warned into her ear firmly.

"B-but..the alligator..He--he...*gasp*.. ohhhHH!" she grunted, feeling something
broken inside. Her face paled and began to turn blue. She gurgled into silence,
still horribly conscious.

"Johnny, go get the backboard!  Marco?!" DeSoto shouted.

"I'll get the gear.." Lopez answered.

"I'll help." Chet added.

"On the fly.." Gage punctuated as he slipped down his rope hanging from
the tree to go aid his partner. He knew the girl had been seriously, grieviously
hurt as clearly as Roy did. He knelt to help DeSoto stabilize her head and 
airway where she sat upright on the ground. "What can you tell?"

"I don't know." Roy answered him. "Might be her spine, or ribs. I'm feeling
blood soaking into my shirt." he said hoarsely.

Johnny knelt down.

Cap knelt near. "Anything I can do? The alligator's no longer an issue. 
He's tied up."

"Get that chopper in here faster. She's going critical. And get us 
Rampart in a relay." Roy told him.

"You got it, pal." Stoker said, running for the road.

Sighing in sympathy, Cap handed DeSoto an active resuscitator on
demand feed to give to the woman so she would get as much oxygen 
into her system as she could take. 

He could see that she was still drawing breaths on her own; short,
painful efforts that frighteningly didn't seem like they were going to last
much longer. ::This is bad. And we still have to immobilize her.:: Cap thought. 
::Oh, no.. She's got that thousand yards stare already.:: he worried
mentally.

Knowing that there wasn't much he could do yet, Cap rose to his
feet after nodding at Johnny that everything was coming as fast as
it could get there.

Numb, he said the first thing that came to the top of his head.
"Nice work, guys.." he said to the sweaty, grinning postmen
who were rejoining him, one by one from the lakeshore.

Marve smiled. "Believe me, we always reap our revenge every 
chance we get. Have no fear of that."

"Do you guys always tackle hunger crazed alligators when they
charge you like that?" Stanley wondered.

The chocolate skinned mail woman smiled. "You'd be surprised at what 
chases us at one time or another, fireman. This ain't nothing at all. 
Them pound boys are.. usually off chasing stray cats in trees or 
something, leaving us postal workers to fend for ourselves." she
said, watching the two animal control officers who were 
checking and rechecking the gator's tied up legs and taped jaws 
carefully to see that they were truly secured.

"Now why would they do that?" Cap asked her.

"It's because we call em to get past all the dogs and other guard 
animals in people's yards all the time. Their vet says we drain their 
operating budget faster than a coke on a hot day. Doesn't seem to 
concern the LACoAC much that we think the mail must go through no 
matter what, know what I mean?" she laughed, still high on adrenalin.

Cap tried to smile, and couldn't.

The dark skinned woman noticed. "How's she doing?" she asked 
quietly, the glow of heroism slowly fading from her features.

"My paramedics are still checking her out. We'll know more here real soon." 
said Cap, looking down at the five firemen now crouched over the girl.
"She's got some developing breathing problems starting up." he told the
postal worker.

Silently, the postmen watched Station 51, while they worked to save a life.

-----------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Photo:   Cap on the bullhorn, while Roy and Johnny watch.  

Photo:   Woman up a tree. 

Photo:   Cap holding a lifenet, calling up. 

Photo:   A fire department's lifenet view. 

Photo:   A prowling alligator. 

Photo:   Three postmen capturing a gator. 

Photo:    Cap in his helmet looking down near a mail woman. 

Photo:    Roy holding a woman's sshoulders on a street. 

Photo:    Sierra park rangers and the gang carrying stokes. 

Photo:   Gage running with a spine board.
 
 
**************************************************
From: "killashandrarey01" <killashandraRey@hotmail.com>
Date: Mon Aug 7, 2006 1:46 am 
Subject: Tacit Care..

Roy immediately started talking as he was holding
the badly injured woman against his shoulder. "Ma'am,.. 
can you still hear me? Ma'am?"

The girl did not reply through her involuntary gasping.

"Hey!" Gage shouted to get her attention. He saw that her 
eyes were no longer focused. Johnny pinched her earlobe firmly. 
She didn't move. "She's going unresponsive, Roy." he murmured.
"Marco, take control of her head with that jaw thrust. Stoker, an ambu would
be real nice right about now. Help her on it when she needs it." he said,
slipping in a lubricated nasopharyngeal airway into one of her nostrils.
"Chet.. get a C-collar. Looks like she's a small regular." he said, feeling 
around her head and neck in a fast check. 

Periodically, he looked at his palms, one at a time, searching 
for wet blood stains as he worked them down to her shoulders. 
"She's not bleeding from anywhere up here, Roy." he told his 
partner, who was setting up an EKG monitor.

DeSoto nodded, looking down at his own shirt to see where the large 
blood stain that he had felt soaking him earlier, was located. "Try her 
right lower back."

Cap gestured to his paramedics. "I'll get Rampart." Then he turned
to the postal workers. "Could you folks help us out one more time?"

"Sure.. sure.. " said the dark skinned lady. "Anything you say, mister."

"Can one of you go grab a blanket packet out of the engine?
They're yellow. Right rear compartment above the driver's 
back tire. Then turn around with your backs to us in a ring.
We're gonna need some privacy for her. Seems we're already 
gathering ourselves a crowd of the curious here." said Hank, 
seeing more park goers arriving due to the unusual sight of the 
bound and taped alligator and the three flashing county trucks.

The post woman took one look at the shears Gage was using to
get the girl's clothes off and nodded in immediate understanding. She
put two fingers to her mouth and let loose a piercing whistle to 
catch the other chattering mailmen's startled attention. "Don't just 
stand there, Marve." she pegged her cohort. "Go get that cover up tarp 
for the little lady. As for the rest of you,.. about face, pronto, and don't 
let me catch you lookin' back over here even once." she ordered her 
coworkers like a bossy mother hen.

They obeyed her. Instantly.

"Don't you worry, captain. Nobody else is gonna get anywhere near her.
And that's a promise from us." said the saucy, pleasant faced mail woman.

"Uh,, thank you.." said Stanley distractedly without looking up from where 
he crouched over the biophone case. "Rampart,.. this is Engine 51. How
do you read?"

Roy and Johnny were deep into their initial assessment. Gage felt for
carotid pulse quality on both sides of the woman's neck and then he compared
them to those in both wrists. "Weaker radials bilaterally... but I'm feeling
no cervical crepitus. She has no signs of jugular venous distension or
tracheal deviation.. Resp rate's thirty, very shallow, and intermittent."

"Got it." said Roy, taking notes. He had patched the woman in on limb leads
so that they would have constant audible cardiac cues to listen to. And then
he placed one of her fingers inside the wired pulse oximeter's soft rubber clamp.

"Ok, Chet, she's set for her collar...Let's get it on." Gage grunted as he ducked 
around Stoker's hands as the engineer started working the bag valve mask. 
"Then go get the KED ready, would ya? Marco's still got his hands full holding her. 
I'll probably be finished with her entire sweep by the time you get back."

"All right, Johnny." replied Kelly. 

Soon, they were through and Chet took off for the engine's auto extrication 
equipment bay.

Gage continued to search for serious problems. "I've got a spreading bruise medial
right chest..." he said, feeling and looking at the woman's skin. He stopped when
one hand came away bloody. "There it is.. Lower right side, Roy. A penetrating 
wound with a single rib fracture into the abdomen.. The injury's fully below the 
diaphragm." he reported as he snatched out some bulky dressings to control the
bleeding. He used many layers and taped them to her side firmly in a square 
to slow the heavy hemorrhaging. He moved on down each of the woman's
arms and legs in turn in a careful check for other critically bleeding wounds, 
but he found none.

Quickly wiping his hands off on the woman's discarded shirt, Johnny got
out a stethoscope for a fast chest/lung check. "Roy,..mid clavicular right
is hyperpercussive with diminished breath sounds..." he said, catching
his breath as he listened closely, "..But mid right axillary and all other 
lung fields are clear. Her heart sounds normal but it's not at the same rate 
as her pulse."

"What are you getting for a discrepancy?" DeSoto asked as he rechecked
the pressure dressing Johnny had applied to see that it was still working.

"Apical: 136 and steady. But the 90 palp's irregular." Gage replied.

"Any other life threats?" Roy asked.

"No." Johnny told him as he placed the flat of two hands and pressed
down lightly over all the areas of the woman's abdomen that he could
reach with her as she was, sitting up on her scissors split open jeans 
and underwear. "Just where we know already. Right upper and right lower's 
firm and distended. Pelvis is stable." he said after gripping her hips with an 
inward pressure. The bones didn't shift even an inch. He looked at the woman's 
entire back with a pen light around Stoker knees and jacket flaps and he double
checked himself when he felt her skin, too. "Yeah, nothing else.." he concluded. 
Then he added. "A change..Current LOC is causing incontinence." he said as 
an odor of urine and stool rose over the blood scent. "But there's no peritoneal 
or rectal bleeding."

"I'll tell Cap to relay what we have so far." Roy told Johnny.

Gage and Chet got busy with the Kendrick device. 

Kelly opened the KED and placed it between Marco and the girl's back. He 
centered it and placed the wings of the immobilizer snugly under the woman's 
armpits while Gage tucked some padding at the small of her dusty neck where the 
head guard didn't rest. Then Johnny fastened the chest straps, taking care that
it didn't interfere with Stoker's ability to get good chest rise with his
ventilations. "Is she breathing on her own?" he asked the engineer.

"Only trying one out of every three now." Stoker replied.

"Keep at it, but don't hyperventilate her at all."

Mike nodded. "I'm watching her sat's.." he said, throwing a head
at where he could see the numerical readings renewing themselves
on the screen of the EKG monitor. "Heart rate's still steady. 136..
PO2's 98%"

"If her tachycardia's no longer felt at the carotid, let me know." Gage said.

"I sure will. I see that Cap's got the defibrillator on active stand by."

Chet slid two straps under the girl's thighs and wrapped them
over each leg before he snugged them tightly at both ischial grooves.

Then they secured the woman's head against the KED's head rest
and placed the secondary straps over her forehead and chin 
once she was confirmed as being placed well centered to vertical.

Marco still held onto the woman's head. "Airway's good. Are we 
ready to place her on the board?"

"Yeah.." said Johnny, as he stood up to grip a side handle on the 
cradle of the KED with one hand. The other, he placed under one
of the woman's knees. 

Chet got set positioning himself on the opposite side to help with the 
transfer after he was through tying the woman's hands together with 
a gauze bandage. He paused when his shifting accidently 
jarred the woman's left arm. It bent into a sudden second elbow just 
below the shoulder. "Ahh! Broken left humerus." he announced, 
holding it quickly above and below the break to stop its falling, 
flopping movement.

"Must be a real clean break if I didn't feel that. We'll splint it in route." 
Gage told him. "Just place that arm neutral enough so that a pulse's 
always felt in that hand with her arm supported."

"Ok, I'm set." Kelly said a few seconds later when he checked circulation.

Locking their arms together underneath her, the gang lifted and then
carried the woman over to the long board lying on the ground. Carefully, the 
three firemen lowered her flat onto it and strapped her in after covering 
her up snugly with the shock sheet Cap had obtained from the engine. 
They left the woman's wounded side exposed to the air so they could 
monitor the pressure dressing's continuing effectiveness.

Chet did one more aid by propping up the woman's boarded head on
a gear box to ease her manually helped respirations. "There you
go, Stoker. She should vent nice and easy for you now."

"That works." said Mike, watching her color closely as he bagged her.

Cap lifted his head. "I've got Brackett on the line!" he shouted.

Roy tossed Cap his notepad. "Cap,.. she's a 'load and go'. 
Tell them the NPA and that jaw thrust are doing the job ok even though
her Glasgow's seven. And I found a wallet." DeSoto said as he
bent down to do a blood pressure on the woman's unbroken arm.
"Catch.." he said, throwing that over, too. 

"Will do." said Hank, receiving it. "Sierra Bravo's ETA is three minutes.."
Then he turned back to the biophone. "Rampart. I have more patient
info." he said, leafing through the girl's wallet cards. "Our victim's twenty 
five with no prior medical problems or allergies." he concluded after reading
a few of them. "As I said before her mechanism of injury was a thirty foot 
fall out of a tree to soft grassy ground after bouncing out of a fire 
department life net. Status: Unconscious, nonreactive to pain. She is being
partially breathing assisted on oxygen and is doing well with just an NPA and
jaw thrust. She's got a large, open wound lower right quadrant lateral to the 
hip with a penetrating rib break into the abdomen. External bleeding has been 
controlled. She's a second bruise on her upper right chest with slightly diminished 
superior right lung sounds. Broken left humerus. All extremity pulses are 
palpable. She is spinally immobilized with a KED on a longboard and is 
being treated for shock. Stand by for the vitals signs.." Captain Stanley told 
Rampart.

##Standing by..## answered Kel Brackett from the base station.

-----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Photos:  None.

***************************************************
From: "patti keiper" <pattik1@hotmail.com> 
Date: Thu Aug 10, 2006 7:30 pm 
Subject: Turnabout Intruder.. 

DeSoto looked up and supplied Stanley with the information
Brackett wanted. "BP is 72 over 50. Pulse is 144 and regular. 
Respirations unassisted are now holding at 10, irregular and shallow. 
Skin is pale, diaphoretic and cool at the extremities. Pupils are
slightly dilated but reactive to light. Glasgow is nine. Bilateral
Babinski's: normal. Distal pulses are equal in all four despite that closed
fracture in the left arm, now realigned in a position of function. EKG 's 
showing still viable V-tach and the digital PO2 is 96% on 15L of O2 
on ambu. Breath sounds are the same still, with that extremely localized
mild rhonci. Estimated 900 cc's blood loss externally from the 
abdominal wound."

Kel Brackett nodded, tapping the glass with a knuckle in a hint to get 
Dixie to enter the glass enclosed base station just as Cap was 
parroting back Roy's information over the biocom.

She had been pulling out a blank stat chart for him for his patient to begin 
a surgical workup, knowing the young woman to be a trauma case from 
the nature of the radio traffic going on between L.A. Headquarters, over the fire 
department scanner near her head, and with the regional park's county 
rescue services branch.

McCall opened the door just as the emergency room physician was finishing
his initial orders. "51, start two large bore intravenous lines of Lactated 
Ringers in the uneffected arm and run wide open until she's reached 
effective homeostasis with an upper systolic of 90, auscultated. Don't waste 
time performing an RSI. Use the addition of an OP if you have to, to maintain 
her airway in transit. Time is of the essence. Splint all unstable joints later.
Send me a twelve lead EKG once you're on your way, and I want additional 
vitals sets every five minutes. What's your current ETA?"

Dixie quickly joined him. "What do you have, Kel?" 

"Traumatic fall, with a major disruption of a body cavity involving
a rib fracture, with possible internal bleeding. So far, she's 
minus a head injury without any glaring pulmonary or cardiac 
symptoms and with one, apparently simple, broken humerus."

##Rampart, ETA is eight minutes by air. Coming in with Sierra Rescue
to your flight pad.## reported Cap.

"10-4, 51. Get her in here as soon as possible and notify me en route of
any profound neurological or respiratory changes." Dr. Brackett said, 
thumbing the talk button.

"What now, Kel?" Dixie asked him, anticipating.

"I want to organize the care team prior to her arrival. Get two general surgeons 
on stand by to form the core of the trauma team. They'll be in close cooperation 
with us while a surgical room gets ready. I'll direct her further evaluation and 
resuscitation. Get a mid-level provider to manage her airway along with a respiratory
therapist. I'll be conducting the primary and secondary surveys, and tell Dr. Early 
he'll be performing other procedures as needed. I'll leave monitoring her vital signs
to you along with drawing bloods for her lab work. I also want an orthopedic surgeon
as an immediate consultant as well as the neurosurgeon on-call. I want to make
sure her C-spine's truly intact or at least determine any new disability with 
a complete motor examination performed before surgery." Kel told Dixie.

"I'll get right on it."

"As soon as she gets in here, I'll want a foley in along with a gastric
tube to simplify things in prep for her anesthesia as soon as she's been 
airway secured by our therapist. Oh, and let's stave off any iatrogenic 
hypothermia with additional warmed IV fluid, blankets, heat lamps, and 
a heated, air-circulating blanket.  Order up an anteroposterior chest 
radiograph, a focused abdominal sonogram, a full C-spine series and
get films of that left arm. If the room's open, order a CT scan of the 
abdomen with intravenous contrast. But those spinal pictures first, 
so we can get her off the long board before surgery."

"I'm assuming you want arterial blood gases, a type and cross match, and 
baseline work on her hemoglobin and hematocrit levels?" Dixie blinked.

"Yep." Kel smiled.

"And how about a dipstick urinalysis to exclude occult hematuria?"

"That, too." he grinned. "You know me too well, Dix, you know that?"

Then his stomach growled. Loudly.

"Umm hmm.." Dixie nodded without batting an eyelash. "Do me a favor, Kel. 
Let Dr. Morton handle the next paramedic call when it comes in. You haven't
had your lunch yet and you definitely look it." she pegged, with a finger 
stabbing the ornate tie peeking out of his white lab coat. "And neither 
have I, for that matter." she reconsidered.

"Boosting our mutual blood sugars will be on me just as soon as we've 
seen 51's patient safely into a surgical ward." Brackett promised.

"My kind of guy." she winked. "I'll put her in One." Dixie said, disappearing
out the door again.

Dr. Brackett hunkered down with just a plain coffee to await his cardiac strip
sending from Roy and Johnny. ::Hunger's relative they say. In more ways
than one.:: he thought ruefully, admiring Dixie's departing back and efficient,
thick bun just beginning to show graceful falling strands from underneath her 
paper white nurse's hat.

------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
The gang met up with the Sierra team when the park's BK-117 set down on
a nearby hillside that proved free of obstructing pine trees and surprise
daytime heating downdrafts. The red helmeted rangers met the firemen 
with an extra large stokes to accommodate the fallen woman's long board 
so Station 51 could follow with their medical gear piled up in one of their own.

Both Roy and Johnny chose to fly into Rampart with the rapidly stabilizing
woman, and soon, they were on their way, quickly buzzing over the cityscape 
of suburban Carson.

------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
The engine and squad reported that they were available in quarters an 
hour after that. Captain Stanley found that they had returned home, to chaos.

Chief James O. Page, was waiting for them all, in full department regalia,
standing by the large county wall map.

Hastily, the gang abandoned helmets and jackets as they pulled in and
everyone tried their best to rid themselves of the thick park dust that was 
still coating them. 

Gage hid the bloodstains under his nails that the alcohol hadn't cleaned up 
properly as everyone scrambled to the mop cupboard to get their black 
inspection hats on in fast order. Then they lined up in stiff formation in the 
bay in front of the fire trucks and waited until Cap quickly got into his
white one. 

Captain Stanley strode forward in surprise. "Chief? You want to inspect the
station? I thought Chief McConnikee had that detail this month."

"Your rumors were correct, Hank. But I'm not here for that so please, everybody,
just relax. I'm here for another reason. I'm here to ask you all to do me a personal
favor." said Page.

"Oh? And what's that?" Cap asked his boss.

"Do you remember a fireman named Ed Marlowe from last year? He 
rode with your boys in the squad for a bit while being evaluated for 
the paramedic program."

"How can we forget? He was a real cocky sort of hot head, wasn't he?" 
mumbled Chet under his breath to the others in line.."Glad he failed to 
make the grade."

Roy elbowed Kelly swiftly into silence before their all-seeing, easy going 
chief overheard him.

"I'm here to ask you, Hank, if Stoker could walk Fireman Marlowe through 
the engineer's program in a stint through your station."

The others' mouths gaped open. All except Hank's, who couldn't, because 
Page was still regarding him with a questioning expression. "Uh, chief.. 
uh, I'm sure he'd.. Stoker? You doing any off time in the next week?"

"No, sir. I'm available to train. Just give the word." Mike said surprisingly 
easily.

Stanley pegged his tillerman with a shoulder grasp and sputtered. 
"That's....entirely up to you. I-I- I.. know how busy you are studying for 
your potential upcoming promotion to lieutenant and all..."

"Cap, I'll do it." he said, nodding. 

Page took in a big breath and sighed contentedly. "Great, Mr. Stoker. 
I knew you would. You're a good fireman." said the chief.

"That he is..." murmured Cap, trying to stomach a very old feeling of dread. 

Page was oblivious. "You know this means that you'll all follow through
and each take a turn teaching at the Fire Tower. This year's cadet 
class is about to start. Their beginning course work begins tomorrow 
in fact. I've already made arrangements for HQ to cover your work 
shifts to accommodate.." smiled Chief Page.

The gang didn't know what to say. But then Mike filled the gap neatly.

"When do I shadow Ed, chief? When he ships back into town?" Stoker 
asked, after swallowing bravely.

"I'm already here, boys." said a country sounding drawl, coming from 
the kitchen.

Ed Marlowe, the ex-Viet Nam medic and current firefighter, saundered 
into the garage.

He was wearing a brown denim jacket, complete with a rope tie,  
blue jeans and a cowboy hat.  To the 51 gang's dismay, he had already 
helped himself to a sandwich from the refrigerator. "Hi, Mr. DeSoto. You 
know, I was real surprised the other month when you failed to recognize 
me when I helped you real estate shop for that new ranch house of Gage's." 
he chuckled. "I'm glad I finally got a chance to connect up those missing 
memory dots for you...Know what I mean?"

Then he began to laugh uproariously.
 
Still standing in line, Roy DeSoto slowly took off his inspection hat, 
and he began to nurse a frown... big time.

----------------------------------------------------------------------------

Photo: Brackett and Dixie looking tired at the base station.
 
Photo: Sierra rangers and the gang walking with stokes. 
 
Photo: Sierra rangers in a close rescue stokes carrying.
 
Photo: Battalion chief closeup visiting Station 51.
 
Photo: Gang in the midst of an inspection's scramble. 
 
Photo: Cap wearing an inspection hat in the vehicle bay.

Photo: Ed Marlowe in the squad with Roy and Gage.
 
Photo:  Ed Marlowe with a cowboy hat near Gage.
 
Photo: L.A.Co's fire training facility. 
 
Photo: New tower drill recruits jogging.
 
Photo: Roy looking worried in the vehicle bay.

**************************************************
From: Patti or Jeff or Cassidy <theaterhost@voyagerliveaction.com> 
Date: Sun Aug 13, 2006 7:56 pm 
Subject: The Negative Influence 


Roy said the only thing he could under the circumstances and
the chief's smiling gaze. "Welcome to Station 51....again." he
said quietly, holding out his hand.

Ed tempered his gleeful enthusiasm and took the paramedic's
handshake. "I promise I won't screw up so much this time. A fire
engine's not like a person at all.... She can't be arm crippled, 
nor...misdiagnosed, now can she?" he grinned slightly, implicating 
everything. There was a slight smolder of old affront filling his eyes 
when he finally caught Gage's wary ones.

Johnny glanced over at Cap chatting the chief up. Both men had
their backs turned away from the inspection line while they caught 
up on old times.  Made of iron, Johnny refused to take Ed's 
thrust out, hose calloused hand. "Yeah, aren't we the lucky ones." 
he whispered. His tones were definitely not a question.

Kelly instantly matched Gage's expression, sliding over against
his shoulder to take his side in unspoken support. 

"Thank you, boys. Dissss-missed..." Hank's voice rang out when
he realized his men hadn't broken ranks yet. "Chief, I'll get the 
paperwork ready and I'll send it in by on-call courier, right after
we get the afternoon chores done."

Ed didn't move his hand. He still offered it in friendship to Johnny, 
even as his other one caressed a visitor excited Henry's head 
and back enthusiastically when the dog stood paws up against 
his jeans panted leg looking for a few affectionate pats.

Stoker cleared his throat as he leaned over and took Ed's palm 
instead, to end all of the quiet tension before it could be noticed by
Cap or the chief. "Ed, why don't I show you where you can change 
into uniform so you can finish out the rest of the shift with us."

"My stuff's not here yet from the station house. My girlfriend was 
gonna go get my things and bring em over to me sometime tonight."
Marlowe told him.

Mike shrugged. "You can borrow one of mine. We're about the 
same size I think."

Ed Marlowe went mild then.., the emotional guard that was never entirely 
up, fizzling away. "Thank you, Mr. Stoker. I really appreciate your station's 
warming hospitality.." said Ed, smoothly pushing past Johnny and an 
equally troubled Roy. For the first time, they all watched as the falsely bright 
smile disappeared off Marlowe's face.

They all caught the moment when his clean cut mouth fell into a second, 
eerily dangerous kind of steel.

They saw Ed throw the unfinished half eaten sandwich of his noisily into 
the garbage bin next to the door, where Henry couldn't reach it.

-----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
Chief Jim Page left soon after making his reacquaintance with
the rest of Hank Stanley's crew. It was apparent that Cap would
have very little choice in the matter about taking Marlowe on again
in what the chief mistakenly thought was just another kind of 
trainee routine for the over confident, visiting fireman.

Ed wasn't gone into the locker room a minute before Gage cornered
Cap in his office. "Why weren't we notified in advance that he was
coming? Cap, don't you know how this is gonna effect the rest of us?"

Hank didn't stand up to face the pissed off paramedic. He didn't need to. 
His voice was enough of a slap. "Is there a problem, Gage? If so, you'd 
better have all the facts before coming to me about him officially or unofficially. 
Let me remind you that Marlowe is still fully fire qualified. His captain says 
he's doing very good work according to this dossier; even good enough to earn a 
commendation or two."  he said, holding up the state employee packet from 
HQ that Page had given him. "And until I see Ed performing otherwise with my 
own eyes, doing something contrary to departmental policy, I don't want you to 
step a single inch inside my office to harp about it. Is that clear?" Hank said 
firmly.

Surprised, Johnny drew himself up tall, at sudden attention. It looked
horrible to Hank to see that with Gage still in his slightly crooked black
inspection hat. "Yes, sir. As clear as crystal. Permission to go, sir."Johnny 
asked quietly formal with no rock hardness in his face at all past the new bright 
beam of hurt. ::In all my years, Cap has never denied me speaking my mind 
about anything.:: Gage thought privately, in shock.

Hank sighed hugely. "My ...my hands are tied on this, Johnny. I'm sorry.
We....have to keep neutral about what we already know about the man. True,
we were his testing paramedic preceptor station back then. But we have to 
treat this as if he's gonna be going right on through for the first time. It's 
an entirely different ability we're being asked to foster and examine here. 
And to tell you the truth, the pressure's entirely off you and Roy now. You 
two aren't fire engineers."

Still not locking eyes with his captain, and studying the wall where it met the 
tiled ceiling, Johnny said one more thing. "Do you think that's any comfort to 
Mike Stoker, Cap? He was there when Marlowe risked those patients' lives 
right along side of us. What makes you think that Marlowe's gonna act any 
differently when we're all *ss deep in a fire somewhere with him controlling 
things at the other end of our hoselines? Hate to break it to ya, Cap. But when
those moments finally arrive, think about it. Those lives Marlowe's attitude 
targets next, are gonna be ours when he second guesses something stupid
trying to get around Mike Stoker like he tried to get around me and Roy back
then. Just how are you gonna feel about it when that grossly wrong moral 
character flaw of his rears up again, sir?" 

Without waiting for word, Gage melted away into the shadows and was gone. 

Hank sat still as Johnny's last words rang in his head like a bad alarm call.

Cap didn't pursue him to check his insuboordination at the root. For that root
was now growing inside of himself mentally, through a tiny voice of conscience, 
whether he liked it, or not. The first kernels of doubt began to suffuse his thoughts.
"We'll all be safe enough on scene and later at the Tower. Won't we?" he
asked softly to himself.

Hank Stanley was not comforted by his thoughts and an invading migraine 
headache began to pound in his head soon afterwards. ::This is gonna be a very
long week, I'm afraid.:: concluded his mind silently.

----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Photo:  Ed Marlowe treating a man down with Roy and Johnny.

Photo:  Gage in Cap's office, in conversation.

Photo:   Cap and Stoker, paying close attention.

Photo:   An engineer's panel.

Photo:  A tower drill recruit, picking up a flaccid fire hose.

**************************************************
Date: Mon, 14 Aug 2006 14:10:51 -0700 (PDT) 
From: "Roxy Dee" <laterrapincabesa@yahoo.com>    
Subject: Drill Tower Assignment Day~~ 
 
Johnny groaned as his clock radio went off yet again. ::Oh, man.
Why did I ever join the fire department?:: he wondered as he rolled 
over onto his back and pulled the covers down around his ankles to
finally get it over with.

The chill air of his bedroom clinched things fully for him in a solid
dose of reality. ::These cadets of Page's today'd better be fast 
learners. Or else.:: he commiserated. :: I'm a fireman, not a drill
sergeant. I don't plan on spending any more time at the academy,
holding their hands, any more than I actually have to.:: he grumbled
in his head.

Twenty minutes later, Gage had left the warm sanctuary of his sheets
for the foggy, early morning grounds of Long Beach's infamous Tower
Fire Academy. His assignment that day, was to show the latest class of
cadets of the summer, all about the small tools and the finer survival
arts of his department's self contained breathing apparatus gear, including
exposing the recruits to the realities of raw fire smoke, unprotected. 
::Now that's gonna be fun.:: he thought sarcastically. ::There's nothing like 
making sure cadets don't choke to death on ya when you're busy trying 
to prove a valuable point.::

Johnny felt very fortunate. It was Hank and Roy who had received the sucker
end of the chief's mandatory instructor orders. They got the "honor" of 
conducting recruits through the cracked concrete maze of the much feared
ten story drill tower. True, they would have the luxury of air bottles 
while the tackboard panels all around them were intentionally 
ignited one by one via remote control, but the whole exercise was designed 
to demonstrate fire behavior at its worst; with a very controlled, real
seeming, but simulated, building flashover effect.

Needless to say, the drill cowed most cadets into one or two of their baser 
emotions, like panicking,.. inside the first five minutes, once the torching 
began. And it usually took a pair of larger sized, overseeing veteran 
firefighters to keep everyone, going through the live fire section, from ripping 
off their air masks during the worst of the terrifying heat's crawling.

Gage chuckled. ::At least, I got the lighter duty. Anyone who fails in my 
drill gets a fast shoulder carry outside to a guy waiting with a demand 
valve resuscitator... Heh. ::

Ed Marlowe was already deep into his part of things, driving the aerial 
ladder truck around the designated cones laid out in a frame, about the 
tower. He was training there for his engineer's test, in case a rescue 
was called by Cap or Roy for a recruit actively going ape.

::Please knock down a cone. Please.. Please..:: Johnny begged in a 
twisted sense of dark humor. But Marlowe remained annoyingly on 
track, clearing the narrow fourteen inch margins between them 
flawlessly. ::D*mn it, Mike. Quit being such a good teacher!:: the 
paramedic qualmed. Then he laughed at himself for his willful act of ill 
wishing at the station's current thorn-in-the-side. ::Why am I stooping to
Ed's level? That's dumb.:: he chided himself privately.

Soon, the first of the recruits listed on his chart fell in at his table 
under the red and white striped and shaded roof canopy tent.

When he felt that a fair number of them had gathered, Johnny looked 
up. "Hi... Here for the smoke and tools session?" he asked brightly, 
finally putting all thoughts of Ed Marlowe firmly out of his mind. 

Numerous nervous heads nodded. 

Johnny smiled.::Their turnouts are so new, I can smell the rubber 
and retardant spray, from here.:: "Ok, let's get the show on the road.
Now everybody take a book, a helmet that fits properly from over
there, and then have a seat in one of these folding chairs. I've  
got a few preliminary health interview answers to get from each of you."
he told them cheerfully. :: Huh... Glad I'm a paramedic and can conduct
medical histories in my sleep. I'll worry about Ed later, when the live 
burn Tower drill finally starts.:: groused Gage mentally.

---------------------------------------------------------------------

Photos:  None.

**********************************************
From: Patti or Jeff or Cassidy <theaterhost@voyagerliveaction.com> 
Date: Sun Aug 20, 2006 3:53 pm 
Subject: The Doubting Thomas.. 

Roy DeSoto was busy on the tarmac located across from the training 
tower's large lot. He had just acclimated his candidates to their scba gear,
after sharing with them what the Tower would feel like once it was
ignited around them. Surprisingly, he learned from the recruits,
that the Tower wasn't their worst fear. It was actually the final testing 
details they needed to pass in order to become full fledged graduated 
firefighters that was really bothering them.

Smiling, Roy set a foot onto a chair's hinged base and bent over, casually
crossing his arms as he relayed details. "The test consists of two timed 
sections. On the final test day, each candidate will be required to wear the 
following: a polo shirt, long pants, sweat pants, or exercise pants, but no shorts. 
Also, no shoes with open toes or heels. You'll be given a twenty pound
weight vest, a turnout coat, a helmet with chin strap, gloves, and your previously 
fitted training scba to put on for the duration of the test. Watches and loose 
or restrictive jewelry are not permitted. You will be asked to leave those in your
car.

"Candidates, while wearing the required gear, you will carry a 150 ft. high-rise hose 
bundle up a stairwell to the tenth floor of this Tower, read the pressure gauge 
located on the top landing, then return to your starting point. All candidates 
will then lower a hose bundle to the ground floor from the outside top most 
balcony using a hundred foot rope. Minimums for the stairs section: The 
time for your first-step-up to the last-step-off will be completed in under four 
minutes or less. Anything over four minutes is an automatic fail. The test is over. 

"After completing the stairs test, the candidate will then assemble 
and disassemble a set of fittings chosen at random from the test engine waiting 
nearby on stand alert. Also, you may be tested on the following parameters:  

"The candidate, while wearing all his required gear, will perform the following 
events, not necessarily in this order: 

"Pull a charged 2-˝ inch hose fifty feet, then discharge a full stream for thirty 
seconds at 100 PSI. Failure to drag the hose to the required distance results 
in an automatic fail. The test is over. 

"Drag or carry an 180 lb. dummy seventy five feet. Failure to drag the dummy the
whole distance is a fail, the test is over. 

"Remove two randomly called for appliances from the engine apparatus and carry 
them both seventy five feet before setting them both down. Then you'll be asked 
to pick both appliances up again to carry everything back to the engine for
restowing into their original compartments. 

"Walk the extension ladder up this building using the hand over hand method, 
where you'll be asked to move to a nearby second secured ladder. Climb that 
second ladder to gain access to the immediate roof level. Your next move will be 
to rope, and then pull, a donut hose roll up ten stories to the roof where you are,
in order to place the donut roll at your feet. Then you'll be asked to relower 
that same hose bundle back down to the ground. 

"Using a Kaiser forcible entry simulator, you'll be asked to drive a 160 lb. beam 
back a distance of six feet using an eight pound maul tool. Failure to drive the
beam the required distance in a suitable amount of time is a fail. The test is over. 

"Ride in a bucket aerial to a height of one hundred fourteen feet and remain there 
for two minutes. If candidate says stop at any time in order to return to ground, it will 
be considered an automatic failure. The test is over...." Roy concluded. 
"And that's it. That's all there is to it. Are there any further questions about 
the final physical firefighter's exam?" he grinned.

None dared raise their hands. 

"These physical tests are nothing compared to what you've probably already
subjected yourselves to while working out before even coming here to the Academy.
It'll be no sweat fellas. Really."

Finally one burly recruit inclined his head. "Have there been any female candidates
admitted to the academy this year?"

Roy raised his eyebrows, completely surprised by the question. "Not yet. Although
I have every confidence that there will be before the year's out because of the
new employment equality stipulations that have been recently ratified by 
Fire Department Battalion Chief, James Page. It only makes sense that our female
paramedics now undergoing medical training can enjoy the same opportunities to
learn to fight fires along with the rest of us, wouldn't you agree?"

A voice from the back of the group spoke up. "I'd say that wouldn't be a very smart
idea at all.." the masculine tone chided quietly. "The rest of us won't be able to ignore
feeling like we'd have to watch out for all of them on the job. I for one, wouldn't like to
have my life depending on a known to be physically weaker member."

Roy stood up, still keeping the cordial smile on his face as he shielded his eyes
from the sun in order to see the one talking. Then he recognized who had spoken.
"Mr. Marlowe." he acknowledged. "No one not physically able to pass the firefighter's
test will ever be allowed to work in a county fire station so your concerns are 
unfounded to say the least. It might interest you to know that preliminary female fire 
fighter candidate testing has shown that women have significantly better stamina 
in the heat than men do. They also have better agility at greater speeds 
through tight quarters, too. Even fully laden." 

"I didn't know that, sir." Marlowe buzzed with doubt. "But I'll have to see those kinds 
of performance results with my own eyes before I'll reserve any judgement if 
you don't mind my saying so." said Ed, leaning against the idling fire engine at 
the back of the group.

"You're entitled to your own opinion, engineer candidate." Roy said to Ed intentionally
to reinforce his instructor's role relationship to the visiting fireman. Then he turned 
to the rest of his group. "Now... are we ready for the live fire drill?"

The recruit group fidgetted nervously, but all nodded yes.

"Then let's get the show on the road.." smiled Roy, reaching for his scba bottle.
"Everybody, get into your bottles and report to the lieutenant at the back of
the group for a thorough equipment check."

Behind him, Ed Marlowe tightened his helmet strap thoughtfully as he studied
the fair haired paramedic. He never felt Mike Stoker's encouraging shoulder
grip, telling him to get behind the engine wheel for the return trip back to the 
Tower to be the group's rescue resource back up. 

-------------------------------------------------------------------------

Photo:  Roy with coffee, lecturing.

Photo:  Firemen climbing up an aerial ladder.

Photo:  Recruits in scba testing on hose fittings.

Photo:  A Tower instructor with two ladder recruits.

Photo:  Firemen pounding mauls on sleds in a race.

Photo:  Roy and an administrator looking up outside.

Photo:  Fireman Ed Marlowe and Roy sharing words.

**************************************************
From: Patti or Jeff or Cassidy <theaterhost@voyagerliveaction.com>
Date: Sat, 26 Aug 2006 15:03:18 -0700 (PDT) 
Subject: The Purifying Fire.. 

Gage helped the last recruit out of the smokehouse. "Now
that wasn't so bad, Miller, now was it?" he said to the last red 
eyed, mucous draining, spittle smeared, panting cadet to come
stumbling out of the test compartment. "Here, take a seat by
me. You're a little bit more distressed than the others. We're
just gonna get you to grab a snort or two off the D.V. before 
you get re-examined. Don't worry, nothing's wrong. I'm just
covering my instructor butt like any good paramedic who
finds himself in a teaching mode would."

The cadet gratefully accepted Johnny's helping arm as they got 
over to the first aid station that had been set up so cadet 
vitals signs could be checked at need for abnormal reactions 
over the course of the whole training day. "Bu--*choke*..but, 
did I-?" the young zit faced recruit gasped.

"Yeah, you passed. Drooling like a baby teething and coughing 
like a ninety year old COPD-er's completely allowable at this
stage of the game. Failing this station constitutes blacking out within 
the first two minutes. You were exposed for three and stayed alert the
whole time. But,..we held ya in there a little bit longer for a reason. 
Now do you see the merit of knowing how to hook up your air bottle 
and its regulator's connections with your eyes closed in complete 
and total darkness?"

The violently hacking cadet nodded eagerly. "Y-yes, sir. *cough* !"

"Good. Now suck this in nice and easy while I listen to ya clean out 
your lungs." said Johnny, opening the cadet's shirt and donning a 
stethoscope. "If ya gotta puke, let me know. I got a garbage can right
here." Johnny told the flushed teenager as he firmly pressed a spare 
resuscitator's mask against the young man's face. The man jerked,
still on high adrenaline. Gage instantly reassured him. "This is on pull 
only, ok? It won't bite ya. So just relax. The test's over. You did a good 
job in there. I'm proud of ya." Gage praised, patting the trembling man's
arm.  With his other hand, he waved Chet over to his side after he had 
finished thoroughly checking out a set of breath sounds. He rose
to his feet in a pretend grab for a spare oxygen tank from the table
behind him.

Speaking low, he leaned into Kelly's ear. "Once Miller calms down, walk
him over to the first aid station's canteen and get him to drink a lot of water. 
It's a distraction. I want him to not see me going through his duffle bag."

"Uh, oh. Think another one's hiding an inhaler and a history?" asked
Chet.

"Unfortunately, yeah. I can smell Albuterol on his breath."

"Too bad he doesn't know he's gonna be rejected from the Academy 
not for being an asthmatic, but for denying that he was one on his 
application form in the first place." Kelly murmured.

"Some day, they'll learn." Gage sighed sadly.

"Are you the one who's gonna be the one to break it to him?"

"Nooo... Geesh, Chet. Do I look like I'm wearing a white helmet here?
That's administrator's sh*t duty. I'm just a probie barker with bandaids."

"Nice bullwhip, too." Kelly said, eyeing up the defibrillator that Johnny
had on stand by underneath the chair. "You put that where they'd notice
it intentionally, didn't you?"

"Of course. Had to reassure them somehow that every precaution's being 
taken while we torture them into becoming prime fire fighting material.." Johnny 
quipped with a lop sided smile. "That's the only way I know how, at least,
being a paramedic and all." he chuckled.

"It worked. Those guys were all ears and concentrating so hard, they
never even heard the whoopie cushion I snuck underneath the chief's
chair pad."

"You did what?!" Gage gaped incredulously. "You didn't.."

"He didn't know it was me... No one but A-shift knows who the Phantom is.
Aren't I sneaky?"

"Hate to be you when you get caught. Page's got a lot of fans who'll be
happy to pound you into hamburger for doing that kind of teasing to him."

"The chief doesn't mind." Chet sighed. Then he shrugged, reconsidering.
"...Most likely. He probably just laughed, thinking that my idea was a good 
way to blow off some cadet nervousness by lightening things up a little." 
Chet shared. "Want him on an EKG?" asked Kelly, studying the recovering 
Miller.

"Nah, his rate's already going down." Gage sniffed, watching the bounding
pulse point in the tired recruit's neck from where they were. "You know, 
you're making a pretty good EMT here. Perhaps you should get your 
rear into the next paramedic class and see what you can really d--"

"No way.. I saw how you two monkeys drilled Ed Marlowe to death in between 
calls this spring." Chet complained sarcastically.

"That was only because he was making too many dangerous choices, Chet."

"Oh, and I wouldn't?" Kelly asked him seriously. "Don't you remember? I'm
the one who took five whole hours to pick up even the most basic CPR skills 
good enough to pass the test."

"Maybe.." Gage squinted in mock appraisal. "But now, you're the best child 
resuscitator our station's ever seen. You got the highest pre-defibrillator 
viability ratio of all of us put together. I know. I've been keeping track of
how many are actually saved after you've had a chance to work 'em."

"That's just because I hate kids dying right in front of me all the time." Chet
grinned. "I just want them to make it, that's all. Nothing spectacular."

"Yeah, well. You just let us go right on admiring your miraculous skills for ya, 
ok? Just knowing what you're capable of past the joking department 
makes us all smile real big whenever we find we're down about going to 
another child arrest call." Gage told him warmly with seriousness.

"I'm a fireman, not an icon. And don't you forget that, you hear?" Kelly said 
in embarrassment, turning gruff in self defense as he made a hasty departure 
back over to Miller's chair in order to follow Johnny's orders.

Gage watched him go with mild affection. Then his thoughts turned to other
angles. ::Huh. I wonder how Roy's making out..:: he thought to himself as
he turned his eyes up to the training tower.

It was just beginning to smoke at the very top story as the live fire drill 
exercise began in earnest.

----------------------------------------------------------------------------

Photo:  Gage and Chet talking outside.

Photo:   Chet working a child CPR call.

Photo:    An exhausted man on oxygen.

Photo:   Recruits climbing a fire tower.

Photo:   Roy looking sooty in a close up.

**************************************************
From :  "patti keiper" <pattik1@hotmail.com> 
Sent :  Wednesday, August 30, 2006 4:40 PM 
Subject :  The Daring Do.. 


Roy grinned at his partner. "So, how'd it go?" he smiled, eager for 
Gage's news about his teaching session.

"We're down two. And it's not because of the smoke.." Johnny 
frowned miserably.

Roy bit his lip after sucking in his breath in sympathy.
"Oh, don't tell me. You found a couple of recruits lying about 
pre-existing medical conditions?" DeSoto nodded when Johnny
began studying the ground without answering.
"I don't think I'd enjoy discovering that kind of thing either. I'd rather 
get soaking wet jumping out of a helicopter into a polluted harbor 
than deal with that."
 
"That's what I told Chet, too. Well, ...not in so many words but.."

"I get the picture, Junior. Try not to think about it so much. What's done
is done. Ready for another rocky bout with baby faced cadets feeling 
their nerves again?" Roy asked.

"Don't I have a choice this time?" Gage insisted passionately, rubbing the
sooty sweat off of his brow. "Man, I can't wait until the day I make captain. 
Then I won't have to kiss up to battalion chiefs mandating last minute orders 
to teach at the... Hi, Chief..." Johnny brightened as he spied the tall lanky Page
striding towards them from around the corner of the squad.

Chief Page calmly made his way over to Roy and Gage where they were putting 
away some small tools from their demonstration stations. "The perimeter's set.
Marlowe and Stoker, Stephens and Conrad are ready with hot aerials on engines
501 and 22. Gage, any casualties to report from the smokehouse exercise?"

Johnny winced at the question. "No physical ones due to injuries, sir. 
But I've these two concerning paperwork discrepancies. All the deciding 
details are in my instructor notes being held by the quartermaster." he sighed,
handing over two metal id jacket tags that he had pocketed earlier.

"Oh." said Jim, immediately understanding. "I'll take your passed buck. I'm
sorry you had the weight of that on your shoulders all morning. I had a bunch
of politicians visiting who wanted to see the facilities in close action."

"So did we get more funding in trade for that wonderful fact filled tour 
you conducted, sir?" Roy asked Page.

"Yep. We've another year's cadet training completely paid for. That and
we've finally filled the price tag for 36's new engine and squad. I just
commissioned those a few minutes ago from our manufacturers."

"Then it was well worth it sitting on all the bad news about these two 
cadets then." said Johnny, smiling and taking the chief's hand as he 
accepted Page's heartfelt apology.

Jim sighed, pushing his white helmet up a little higher on his bald head. "Ok, 
DeSoto. I gave the word a minute ago to torch the tower. Hank's in position 
with his ten recruits on tower level eight east. Ready to create a snafu for 
them over HT?"

"Yeah.. What shall I pick this time? Roof collapse? Or a lost man?"

"Your choice, Roy. Stanley's set up a couple of dummys ahead of time up there
for either scenario." grinned Page cheekily.

"Hmmmm." Roy grinned, rubbing his chin in chuckling consideration.

A loud sputtering pop and answering rumbling vacuum belch startled all three
of them where they stood by the squad.  An unscheduled fire eruption burst suddenly
from the Tower's ninth floor fire escape balcony window.

"What the h*ll?!" Gage muttered as he and Roy whirled around to squint up into
the sun at the tower building mockup. Two stories were on fire instead of the 
usual one that had been originally planned to burn on the floor directly above 
the cadet group.  The second one that had just exploded, was floor seven east, 
just below the rookie group, putting them in tremendous danger.

The chief immediately got on radio. "Page to Stanley. Report..." he said, turning
his gaze to the control house where the explosive charge controls were set.
Inside the glassed off hut, he could see a confused anxious milling as technicians
rushed to figure out what had happened.

Static met their ears..buzzing and chaotic. Then,.. ##.--mergency! Premature charge! 
Premature charge! Abort! Abort!## came Hank Stanley's order from inside the 
Tower through the muffled glass of a scba mask. Flames' noise behind his 
voice was far too loud for safety's sake. ## I've a separated air bottle-less man.
He ran into the direction of west and north!##

Page and others began running towards the two stationing engines encircling 
the burning practice tower with fully charged hoses. 

Another explosion of incendiary wired tagboard erupted into fire on eight east
and a rectangular black object blew out the window at high velocity. It was a white 
striped HT they all recognized, it had been blown clear out of Hank's gloved hand
along with large splinters of balsa wood, light aluminum and teak.

"Look out!" Page shouted at the hosemen at the foot of the tower. "Debris fall!" the
chief yelled into his own hand held.

51's captain's radio arched down in a tumble and shattered at their feet with a 
resounding crack onto the concrete. Then, as if in mockery, the Academy's elegant
minature repeater tower was struck by fire and it groaned as it began to lean
towards the burning floors when one of its support wires began stretching from 
the heat.

The Battalion Chief began barking.
"Gage, DeSoto. Get with Engine 501. Mount up an aerial with belts!" Page ordered,
running to catch a glimpse of the north side of the building. "That panicked cadet 
may have--"

## Code I ! I've a jumper fallen on a ledge! ## shouted Ed Marlowe over the main
channel from the control foot of his fire engine. He gestured, pointing up. 
And he was already swinging the boom of 501's extended ladder through a 
thick column of smoke to something only he could see. 

Stoker's face paled. ## We can't reach over there, the toppled radio antennae's 
in the way.## he said into an handy talkie to the other engine. ## Engine 22. Have 
you sufficient clear air for a good touchdown?##

## In a mic! Repositioning now! ##

"I can't wait for them..." growled Marlowe, tightening his helmet strap. "We don't
HAVE a minute!"

Grabbing a coil of rope, Ed began climbing the ladder Mike Stoker had locked off 
as close to the eighth floor as he dared. Gage was close behind him. 

Roy followed with another line, and four air bottles. "Get a stokes ready! After
we get this guy down, we'll go in after the others!" he shouted to Page.

The chief nodded, already speaking, using the engine's dash radio to notify
L.A. about a possible mass casualty incident at the training center.

Gage and Marlowe got to the top and collapsed into the basket to catch their 
breaths.

They could see their victim. The panicked cadet had stripped out of his
turnout jacket and he was partially dangling over the edge of a 
mock scaffolding platform, his booted feet banging painfully against 
the tower's seventh floor balcony in the wind. He wasn't moving.

"He's gonna get knocked off.." Marlowe said, tying a rope off in a quick knot 
on the bottom railing of the aerial basket. The other end was netted around his 
waist and hips in a peculiar kind of lattice rig. "I'm gonna swing over there. 
Steady me..!" Ed shouted back at Gage as he stood up on the basket's 
raised motor housing and balanced himself there precariously with outstretched 
arms. 

Then he raised them above his head and shoulders precisely, like a 
swimming pool diver about to jump.

"Marlowe, no!" Gage gasped, realizing what he was about to do next. 

Ed Marlowe leaped off, like a bungee thrill seeker, straight down into 
the rising black smoke in a plummeting swan dive.

Johnny felt stunned and let go of the grip he had on Ed's rope's slacked
coils just in the nick of time before it jerked taut with snapping strain.

The aerial basket and topmost ladder section acted like a springing
flagpole, cushioning Marlowe's weight when he hit the end of his rope
a second later. Johnny was jolted sidewise as the ladder's rigid length 
compensated in back oscillation like a tree branch swaying sickeningly
in a high wind.  

Grunting, Johnny threw himself forward, grabbing Marlowe's rope in 
between his gloves, and then he began to swing it like a pendulum, 
back and forth, until he heard a shout from the invisible Marlowe 
somewhere below him.

"I'm there! I got him!" cried Ed.

Looking down, Johnny could see Marlowe hauling the cadet by the
back of his blue shirt jacket and pants up into his arms. "Is he alive?!"

"Yeah.. Good thing I didn't wait any longer than I had to. He almost 
slipped off over the edge on me." Ed told him. "He's out cold.."

"Do you need a pair of air bottles down there?"

"Nah, the wind's blowing all the smoke away ok where we are. Just get 
Roy lowered down here with a C-collar and a stokes. I think he landed 
on his head. He's gonna need an airway a.s.a.p."

"All right. Hang on a sec. He's almost caught up to us." shouted Johnny,
grinning with relieved tension despite himself.

Roy soon reached the basket, huffing from the weight of four air bottles.
Three of them, were slung on his arms. "Where's Marlowe?!" he asked in shock.

Gage pointed down, shouting over the wind and the sound of the emergency
hooter blasting over the intercom from the training building. "He's down
there with our missing man."

"I didn't see him rappel down." he said defensively.

"He didn't climb down one inch, partner.." Johnny grinned at him.
"He dove down....like Mark Spitz."

"Huh? Johnny, that didn't make any sense." Roy puzzled.

"Never mind. Just gimme that stokes line." Johnny coughed, 
getting down to business. "You're going to go down two stories
and shift over to the left towards eleven o'clock. That's where 
they are."

"I don't see anything.." said Roy, peering down through the choking
smoke rising up towards them. He put his legs over the edge as
he sat down on the basket's floor through the open gate.

"Neither did he, that nasty little show off. But I'll tell you one thing.
He's sure got the b*lls for the engine basketing business."

------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Soon, Roy was at Marlowe's side. "How's he doing?"

"He's breathing.  And the goose egg's tiny. No skull fracture."
Ed said of the unconscious cadet. "Am I allowed to collar him
even though I'm not a paramedic?"

"Sorry." Roy grinned. "You'd better let me do that part. But with
your officially valid CPR training, you can insert an OPA without 
me having to hold your hand." he teased. "Here." he said, passing 
over a crescent shaped oral airway to Ed from his pocket kit.  Then 
he got on the radio. ##Chief. We got him. As soon as he's on the way 
down in the bucket with Marlowe, Johnny and I will enter the Tower 
after the cadet group. ## ::And Cap.:: fretted DeSoto privately.

##Roger, we've got an ambulance and paramedics standing by.##
said Page.

"So, you think I'll get pointed for recklessness?" Marlowe growled
in self conscious ire. 

DeSoto looked up in surprise and it was not because of Ed's abrasive 
attitude."Not this time, Ed. Only Johnny saw what you did. And he's not 
gonna talk about it to anyone else but me." Roy smiled. "I think he's 
finally rated you a hero in his book. At least, for today..." he grinned.

"That's good enough for me, DeSoto." said Ed thoughtfully as they worked
to immobilize their patient. "Can I be frank and admit something personal
to you, Roy?"

"Sure." blinked DeSoto, he kept his face passively kind when he finally
looked up again.

Ed sighed deeply as he strapped the stoke's belts in tight around the
cadet's shoulders, waist and legs. "All I've ever wanted from any of you guys 
was to find a niche for myself in the fire department with folks that felt 
comfortable. As a paramedic trainee, I felt too much like the odd man out. 
I felt like a ...a...Viet Nam flavored rebel medic black sheep or something 
else just as empathetically unsavory."

"Ed, I think you've definitely found a home for yourself this time. You're a
a natural born fire engineer. I don't think even Stoker knew an extended 
aerial could handle a roped in free fall leap like the one you took to save 
this man."

"He didn't?"

"Nope." Roy grinned, taking a respirations count on their victim.

"That's incredible!" Ed exclaimed as he finished tying off the pulley
rope carabiners to the ladder bucket's cross carrying line.

"I'm afraid you took the words right out of Johnny Gage's mouth, Ed."

--------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Chet Kelly made for the stairs of the Tower as fast as he could run. Behind him,
he felt Marco and his anchor man cover him with a liberal soaking of hose water 
which wet down his tan overjacket thoroughly. ::What's going on in there? Cap, 
where are you?:: he worried in his head. 

Immediately, on the third floor stair landing, he began to encounter smoke that 
should never have been there.

---------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Photo:  Battalion Chief Page talking to Roy and Johnny near the squad.

Photo:   Roy and Johnny looking up in shock at something behind them.

Photo:   Johnny close up climbing.

Photo:    Roy climbing an engine ladder.

Photo:    An aerial ladder reaching a training tower.

Photo:    Fire cadet down on a scaffolding.

Photo:    Ed Marlowe pulling a fireman to safety.

Photo:    Engine 501 at the Fire Academy.

Photo:    Gage with ropes sitting on a ladder bucket's rail.

Photo:    Roy and Ed Marlowe with a stokes.

Photo:    A firecrew clustered around a pair of charged hoses.

Photo:   A helmeted Chet Kelly moving in darkness.

***************************************************
From :  patti keiper <pattik1@hotmail.com> 
Sent :  Thursday, August 31, 2006 1:30 PM 
Subject :  The Wheat from the Chaff.. 


Chet Kelly put on his mask as he made sure his air bottle was
patent. He quickly felt Marco Lopez tap him on the back to let
him know that they were following him into the Tower as cover.

::Smoke's down here? In an all cement building? Now I wonder 
what would cause that? In every manual I've ever read, smoke 
always rises...:: he thought quickly. Then he had it. Chet no sooner
thought about it when his HT was in his gloved hand. "Kelly and 
Team Two entering Tower east to Battalion One!"

##Go, Team Two.##

"I've a working theory! Get some men on the roof and check the 
top ventilators. I think something's blocking them. We've spill back
in all the stairways down to the third level." Chet told the chief.
"Excessive heat could have set off all the planted fire starters early."

##We've been thinking along those same lines, 51. Keep me updated
on your search. We've an infrared crew on the way in with you on your 
tail and a problem crew on the way up 22's aerial to check out the roof 
vent theory.## Page replied. 

"10-4." said Chet as he reburied his handy talkie into a jacket pocket.

::Come on, Cap. You knew your group was near the roof. It's not like
any floors are gonna collapse here. This Tower's built more solid than
Fort Knox. The only thing wood in here are the thin boards coating the
concrete walls and ceiling which we stapled up real nice with open gaps
large enough for the fire to breathe through. Where are you taking all 
the grunts? You're sure not coming down my way..:: Kelly wondered as 
he and the others crouched low as they slowly made their way up the east 
stairwell towards the eighth floor.

-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Outside, the training chiefs were conferencing rescue plans over 
the blue prints of this year's Tower design.

Page was deep into the maps. He turned to one of the academy's demolition
techs. "You say there were live charges only on floors six through ten?"

"Yes, sir. The budget for this year was limited, we didn't have enough wood fuel
in Supplies to light up the whole tower for this session." said the worried man.

"That's a good thing, too." answered Page. "What's this?" he asked pointing
to a newly hand markered place on the roof in one corner that wasn't labelled.

"Relief valve, sir. For the manual fire sprinkler system we've been installing."

"Is it in working order?" asked Page.

"Yes, sir. Partially."

"How about these water pipes on Tower East?"

"Not yet, chief. We- we were kinda waiting on more funds to help pay for the
finishing work." 

"Thank you, boys. That's all we needed to know. It's not your fault the 
igniters blew. We found a roof vent plugged with spider webs that was the 
source of all our problem heat. We're sawing it open now." said Page. 
"All that fire is gonna be, is hot. It won't do much past ceiling flashes 
and 51's Hank Stanley knows this. He won't let the rest of his cadets 
lose composure. Not if he can help it. Those men are gonna be just
fine if no one else panics in the simulated firestorm mayhem. The only
obstacle he failed to surmount was the fact that it happened before he 
could tell them about it. Return to your station Mr. Brand and completely 
disarm all demolition charges linking the Tower to the Vulcan hut."  Page 
ordered the demos man.

"Immediately,sir." said the sparky and he soon ran off as fast as his legs 
could carry him.

Chief Jim Page sighed as he looked at Michael Freeman. "Chief,..is it 
just me, or do training sessions seem to be getting a little hairier to 
carry out safely enough every year?"

"It's just you." smiled L.A.'s Commander. "These same cadet accidents 
aren't happening any more frequently than they usually do." he admitted. 
"By the way, we just got the preliminary patient status report on that cadet 
who jumped. He's gonna be fine. He's already on the way to Rampart by 
ground ambulance. Boy is he lucky someone got there quick enough to 
prevent him from falling all the way to the ground. Who's the one who 
made the save?" Freeman wanted to know.

"An Ed Marlowe, an out-of-stater going for his engineer's test next 
month. His trainer, Stoker from 51's, said that he didn't hesitate taking 
out all the stops using an aerial ladder to get there in time."

"Really! Hmm. Sounds like he's a very promising candidate. I'll be 
sure to examine his scores the minute they come in that day myself. 
I hear Station 110 could use another good tillerman."

"That she can. There's a new state of the art fire engine still without an 
engineer up there." replied Page. 

"Yeah, well. If this man's truly the caliber of firefighter everyone says he 
is, she won't be lacking one for long." smiled Michael Freeman.
 

----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Captain Stanley rapped on another cadet's helmet. "Keep your hose's fan
pointed up!" he shouted. "The fire can't reach you if you're pushing it away,
ok?" he told the frightened man. "You're doing fine. Just keep an eye on
your mates on either side of you, all right? We're almost to the complete
safety of daylight on the roof at North."

Hank began mumbling as he continued to crawl back and forth 
between his three groups of clustered cadets along the floor. He made sure
they realized that safety lay in the hoses themselves and not in the open
windows they could see glowing just beyond them. 

The hallway surrounding the training group was still boiling with 
thick curls of ceiling fire that licked slowly past them. Cap dropped his 
head a little lower. "Whew..that's hot. Gonna do something about that 
just as soon as I--" 

A scream lanced out from a particularly nervous cadet crawling
at his heels.

Captain Stanley whirled and grabbed that one by the shoulders. "Easy..
What's the problem? Did your bottle run out? Easily fixed. Tandem breathe
with your partner, see? He's already holding out his regulator.."

"Ahhh! My leg! It's on fire!" moaned the struggling man.

Four cadets threw themselves on the yelling one, slapping and smothering
the cadet's pants legs with their upper bodies and soon, a thick wash of water
in a coarse spray from a fire hose doused both of the recruit's flailing
lower limbs completely.

"Which one is it, Bates?" asked Hank. "I'm not seeing anything. We got you wet."

"Left one! AhhhHH! I'm burning!"

Captain Stanley pulled up the man's slacks legs and peered at all of his skin
closely by firelight. "It was just an ember. You're fine. You've got a tiny 
mark just above your knee about the size of a pea. Relax, and breathe
slow. We'll dress that out after we get outta here. Everything's fine. Don't
lose your head. Getting an ember or two inside your shorts's perfectly 
normal inside a fire." he joked. 

The cadets around him chuckled, although still stressed.

Bates bit his lip behind his air mask. "Is Jeff gonna be ok? It was so creepy 
watching him run off like that.." the gasping man grunted, still holding his leg.

"It's never far to a balcony safety zone. They're all around us. 
He's probably waiting for a bucket pickup right now and cursing himself for 
wetting his pants over nothing." Hank told him. "We wanted the fire storm to
be thrilling. Only, for some reason, it was set off way too early. Somebody was
sleeping in the hut and wasn't listening to our position reports."

"Take away his coffee rations, sir!" shouted a frightened fire recruit to Hank's
left.

"Done." said Stanley. "Now, everybody sound off as you enter the stairway.
There are nine of you, so keep checking on each other as we go. Fire will leap
out at you. If it does, just fling down onto your back and cover it with your hoses 
on wide fan. It'll retreat. It always does." he coached. "Let's go.."

The hallway was thick with smoke and ash, and firesign. The blue orange liquid 
quality of the burning plasma on the wood attached to the ceiling seemed 
fascinatingly hypnotic to all of them as they moved carefully past it. It seemed
almost alive.

Bates sighed, ignoring his leg at last as he checked his air bottle's regulator one
more time. ::This fire's breathing. I can see where its oxygen's coming from. 
It's right over there.:: the young cadet thought. He pointed a gloved 
finger up and to the right in the direction from which the upside down fire was 
crawling. His hoseman capitulated and aimed light water at that spot. A sharp 
hissing and a flare of yellow rewarded them both. 

"That's good. Yep. That's a main streamer foot coming from the fire. See if you can 
smother it, boys. This hot spot'll suffocate a bit if you bisect that. " encouraged 
Hank as he helped another cadet into the stairwell that led to the roof. "Hit it for 
a minute and then hold off and see what happens. You'll be surprised how fast 
it'll cool off in here after doing that." Hank told them, looking at his watch.
He noticed that they all had about four minutes of air left in their tanks. ::That's 
plenty left for making good an escape. This situation's no problem at all anymore.::
Stanley sighed.

The last cadet was crawling past Hank for the dark sanctuary of the solid stairway 
when the sizzling wired up boards on the ceiling gave way and tumbled down on top 
of them. 

-----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Roy and Johnny entered the Tower.

On orders, they went south with their backing hose team, anticipating Cap's 
need to reach an uneffected section of the Tower with his raw, frightened cadets
before all of their air bottles ran out of breathing room.

Gage followed behind Roy through a tight spot that had been recently watered
down. It was still steaming violently in its black sooty grave of puddled grime. 
"They've been here. We're on the right track.." shouted Johnny. 

"He's gotta be ok, looks like he's been giving out lessons." Roy said as he
plowed through the drowned fire spot on the floor.

"I can almost see the arrows pointing the way.." joked Johnny with a grin.
"See? It says.. Gone fishing."  he gestured at one particular charcoal splash.

"I think Chet's rubbing off on Cap at least, a little, if what you said's true." smiled 
Roy.

"I'll take a picture of it for you later to prove it when all this is over."

"Ok, it'll sure be a nice souvenir for the bulletin board by the payphone." DeSoto
quipped. "Guess we can slow down a bit then. Looks like nobody's dying
this time."

"Amen to that.." said Gage, dropping to his stomach in a more leisurely crawl.

The two paramedics were swallowed in darkness that no longer seemed
threatening to them as they completed their chief ordered sweep for more 
runaway stragglers.

---------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Kelly began shouting when his team made east eight.  "Cap! Can you hear me?"

A scuffling through the thick smoke to his right made him turn his head. It was
Captain Stone, heading the recon crew with the imaging camera. "Kelly, you
say he's lost his radio?"

"Yeah, man. It flew out of that window just ahead and nearly clobbered us."
Kelly told him through the murk.

"Ok, we'll start our sweeps here. Everybody, look under every debris fall blocking
your scans. This wood's not heavy but it could pin someone long enough for an
air bottle to run out." said Stone.

"Yes, sir.." said the cadet currently handling the infrared camera.
He aimed it at a random spot along the wall. "There's one! Man down.." 
he reported. "Just around the bend about five meters."

"Is he moving?" Chet asked him. 

"Yeah. I think so. I can see a head and shoulders. Air's only 62 F in there." 
And he showed Kelly the black and white footage of the thermal activity he was 
monitoring. "Wait a minute. Looks like some others have found him and are digging 
him out."

"I see it." said Kelly. Then he looked back at Marco. "Let's get there, going to
the right. It's shorter, I think."

"I agree." said Captain Stone. "Men, let's move. Have those spare air bottles 
ready. Be prepared to hand one out to anyone in trouble, ok.? Help the cadets 
forcefully into the new ones if necessary if you have to."

"Ok, Cap.." they said.

Soon, they were there.

Bate's trapped feet were holding the stairwell door open and that fed the starving
firestorm and gave it new energy. It took a minute or two of attack from the cadets'
hoses and Marco's to suppress it away from the door's frame.

Chet leaned over Bates. "Are you hurt?" he shouted as he freed the man.

"Not badly. Get me out of here." Bates complained.

"Cap? How about you?" Chet asked, grabbing Hank by the faceplate.

"I'm fine. Just worry about him after getting this woodpile off of us. After
we get up there, I'm turning on that new faucet! I've had enough playing 
for one day." Stanley chuckled.

---------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
Once on the roof, he and Stoker had a gay old time opening the emergency
drenching valve that drown the whole Tower in a shower of ice cold water.
"There goes somebody's bathtime down in the city." Stanley joked, 
remembering the watering ban stipulation in effect for their part of town. 

"Glad we flushed, Cap. There's something satisfyingly visceral about
 killing fire of this scale all at once like that." Stoker said.

"Ain't it though.." sighed Cap as he left the valve open to rain on down through
the sprinkler systems below their feet. "Come on, let's go check to see
who needs a bucket ride outta here first. I know of at least one cadet who
got charred by an ember or two."

"Ok." said Stoker, rubbing a sunburned nose. He lifted his walkie talkie
to his mouth. "All personnel are safe and accounted for. Repeat, Tower
is empty! And the sprinklers are now active.." he reported to the waiting 
chiefs on the ground.

##10-4, Bucket 501. First aid personnel are standing by to give final
cadet evaluations. We'll wrap up this exercise after lunch.## answered
Freeman.

"Freeman? They brought out the big guns for our little cadet accident? I feel
so special.." crooned Chet, bringing up the rear.

"All in a day's work, Cap?" said a voice from behind them. 

Hank Stanley turned to greet Johnny and Roy as they walked onto
the roof from the North stairwell. "You know that for a fact, Johnny."
he reassured his paramedic.

Roy squinted at a scratch on Cap's cheek. "You got pegged in there
by some falling wood." he teased. 

"Yeah. First time that's happened in ten years. I feel a little stupid for
not watching out for that particular cave-in close enough. I forgot
that one was there."

"We'll forgive ya." said Johnny, picking at the wound. "Bates told us
you were holding the door open for him when it happened. Can't do
two things at once you know."

"A captain's gotta be able to do three, Gage. Never forget that."
Stanley mock growled.

"I won't." Johnny sniggered. "Anyone here potentially respiratory hurt?"
he said, growing serious again. 

"Nah. Only hair singed. And there's a burned leg on Bates. Very 
minor. I sent him down first so he can get to some numbing ointment."

"Good enough." nodded Johnny with satisfaction. "I'll use him
to train Marco and Chet on hooking up EKGs as soon as we get
down ourselves."

A soggy scuffle of dripping turnout and clattering scba gear greeted
them. "Cap, can we get outta cleaning up all the Tower messes this year? 
I'm seriously bushed." complained Chet as he and Marco shed their 
overjackets and bottles to cool off a bit in the sunny breezes blowing
around where they were, ten stories up.

Hank grinned. "I'll see what I can do."

---------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
The training day was almost over when Chet Kelly received a priority medical
call to the chief's podium platform. ::Oh, no.. did someone drop with a cardiac?::

Kelly hoofed it over there with Johnny's defibrillator pack, full tilt. 

What he saw when he got to the first row in front of the whole complement 
of fully gathered cadets who were seated in their chairs while they waited 
for the day's debrief, was a pair of cadets doing CPR on an apparently 
downed female victim. ::One of the lieutenant nurses?:: thought Chet with 
a shock.

But something was remiss. The lady's head was separated from her 
body by six whole feet.

It was a resusci-Annie, dismembered temporarily to be entirely the butt 
of Chief Page's avenging practical joke against Chet. "Way to go, Kelly. 
That's the way to get the lead out of it." crowed Chief Michael Freeman over 
the podium's microphone at Chet. He had thoroughly enjoyed watching his 
colleague in crime, Jim Page organize and fire off his little piece of 
payback dirt. "How's your heart doing? Ours are doing just fine, Dr. 
Phantom. Thanks for running for nothing, though. We appreciate it."

Chet set the defib down in front of the two cadets who had tricked him with
their bogus CPR and shot off a mock salute to both chiefs still standing
on the stage without blushing too badly. He swallowed around his pounding
adrenalin rushed pulse rate and tried not to tremble on the surface 
where everyone could see it.

He eventually made it back to Engine 51 with some honor intact amid all
the friendly jeering from all the cadets and the regular firefighters, too.  
"Ah, well, it was fun while it lasted." he remarked about his two years long 
stylish history as the infamous Phantom.

---------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Ed Marlowe was packing up his bag in Station 51's vehicle bay when Johnny
Gage and Chet Kelly saundered up to offer him a mutual pair of goodbyes. 

Chet held out his hand to Ed warmly. "Congratulations on making engineer,
Mr. Marlowe. I'm sure you'll do the mountain fire department proud."

"Thanks, Kelly. That means a whole lot to me." he replied.

Johnny held back a little by the engine, mulling over something. Finally,
when Chet had departed for the kitchen to watch Roy feed Henry some
more sandwiches, he made his peace.  "Ed, ah, can I ask you something?
Uh, it's not of a personal nature or anything. I just want to indulge a little
curiosity if you don't mind."

Ed finished zipping up his duffle bag and he straightened up, adjusting
his ivory felt cowboy hat a little higher on his head. "Ok, shoot. The two of
us are friends now, I hope." he said as he ducked the rim of his hat down
in Johnny's direction with a guarded smile.

Gage cleared his throat. "Yeah, we sure are. Where'd uh, where'd 
you learn to do that bungee jump getup using a hundred footer. I've 
never seen that particular kind of trick before."

Ed smiled and surprisingly, opened up his bag again. "Same place
you did, partner. I learned it from the Big Manual." and he tossed Gage
a staple paged packet emblazoned with a bold official fire department
title that was very familiar to Johnny from his early days as a rescueman.
"See you later, man. We'll probably run into each other again 
at the next big brush fire up at 110's in a month or two. 
Goodbye, Gage. Stay gold."  

And with that, Fireman Marlowe left boldy out the front side
garage door after hitting the commit button. He caught a cab in two 
seconds by flashing his new engineer's badge in the sunlight.

And then, he was gone.

Looking down, Johnny spoke the name of the dogged eared soft
cover he still held in his hands.

"Ropes and Knots. I should've figured." he chuckled, watching Ed's 
cab disappear into the crunch of other autos streaming back
and forth along the busy boulevard in front of the station. "I wonder 
which page that bungee harness diagram is on. I think I got some 
serious studying to do."


FIN

Emergency Theater Live
Episode Thirty Six, Tower Drill

-----------------------------------------------------------------------

Photo:  Cap shouting by a building.     
 
Photo:  Tower drill ceiling fire. 

Photo:  Cap with another cap reading a map. 

Photo: Gang scba fire inside. 

Photo:  Roof ventilating. 

Photo: Heat imaging screen.

Photo: Fireman with an infrared cam.  

Photo:  Gage in a basket. 

Photo: Gage search in the dark. 

Photo: Roy search in the dark.

Photo:  Roy and Johnny in a cave-in.

Photo: Gang finds a victim, scba. 

Photo:  Marco and Chet applying EKG pads.

Photo: Headless CPR joke. 

Photo: L.A.Co.F.D. Fire Chief P. Michael Freeman. 

Photo: Ed Marlowe with Chet talking in the bay by engine.

Photo: Ropes and knots manual.

Photo: Gage considering with Roy by engine.
 
*************************************************** 

            
                            End Credits --  Episode Thirty Six (Fifth Season)
                                      
                                          §§    Tower Drill     §§


                         :)  This episode is dedicated to the Long Beach Fire Department.  :)
                          :)  For their awesome training academy program.                             :) 

 
 
 The Story Unfolds...

Season Five, Episode Thirty Seven..
 
 §§  Primary Complaint   §§
 
Debut Launch: September 1st, 2006. 

 **************************************************
From: rescueman1962@yahoo.com 
Date: Mon, 04 Sep 2006 10:56:25  
Subject: A Beautiful Day 

It was 7:00am in the morning when Captain Stanley and his 
crew reported in for another forty eight hour tour of duty at Station 
51. C-Shift was just getting off duty. 

Paramedic Dwyer approached Roy and said. "Well, good luck! 
We had another wild one here. Thirteen calls. Would you believe that?"

"I'd believe anything." Roy said. "When the weather's warm and
it's a full moon, things are bound to happen. See you soon."

"See ya next time, Roy, and tell Johnny over there not to worry 
about the fifty cents he owes me from the bet he wagered with me 
on Brackett." grinned Gil. 

"Oh, really?" Johnny exclaimed, making a face of dismay.

"Brackett? What about Brackett?" Roy inquired at them both.

Dwyer began giggling without warning.

 "Th-That he and Dr. Carrie Cederstrom would not last a month!"
Johnny said with a snicker. "I bet Dwyer here that they'll be at 
each other's wits end before you know it!" Johnny told him. Then
he frowned at Gil. "You mean they aren't?" he fretted.

"Well, I'm sorry to say this. But, I think they're made for each other, 
pal. They are both stubborn, arrogant, demanding..."

"Oh, I get it. In other words, they're just perfect for each other." Roy 
said as he tapped his partner on the shoulder to show him the fifty 
cents he was paying Dwyer on his behalf. "Here you go, Gil. I'm afraid 
he's strapped until lunch.." DeSoto said, pointing at Johnny. "He actually
paid me all he had for a couple of shoelaces I gave him yesterday after 
he broke his own trying to tie them too fast."

"Thanks for the pay up. Yeah, those two are just like Archie and Edith on TV." 
Dwyer said . "But they honestly love each other. Hmm, I'm outta here. Take it 
easy!" waved Dwyer as he walked away to change into his street clothes.

"See ya." Johnny and Roy said to their colleague.

Roy spoke again to Johnny and said. "Well, we'd better get dressed
before the captain starts to think that we don't want to work today."

"I'd rather be on a boat just sailing by Catalina Island all by
myself to get in some peace and utter quiet. What a beautiful 
day today!" replied Johnny.

Later, after Johnny and Roy dressed in uniform and went to meet 
the rest of the crew, they discovered Henry already sound asleep 
in doggy dreamland on the couch. Chet Kelly was having a candid 
discussion with Mike Stoker and Marco Lopez about the new 911 
emergency number that was to take effect countywide within the next 
few months.

"This new number is going to get help to people quicker than the
system that we have now. They'll have only one number to remember
instead of three or four different ones for calling the cops, fire,
or an ambulance in an emergency whenever something happens." 
Chet said to Mike. "I think it's a wonderful idea."

"But the main problem is this... The system that needs to be in place's gotta
be one in which the caller's location and phone number is automatically 
sent to the dispatcher, so whoever dispatches out a reply response, 
they'll have a permanent record of it." Mike said. "That could be years 
yet down the line, Chet."

"That leaves just a training issue." Captain Stanley said. "A guy
trained to handle just fire calls at L.A. won't have the know how to 
handle police or ambulance calls. So what do you do then?"

Gage was well versed on the topic already and he jumped right in
as he and Roy entered the kitchen.

"W-well, train all the dispatchers to handle all calls from a
single answering point. Put six people on a shift. Two cops, two
fire guys, and two paramedics. Three people to take over
and prioritize the calls, and then have the second trio dispatch them
into the proper channels. EMS, Fire and Police. That might make
it more efficient." Gage said.

"It sure would." replied Roy. 

"But how are WE all going to get used to it ?" Marco wondered.

"Don't you worry about that. We will. We always do whenever
there's a policy change." Johnny told him. 

"I think it's a great idea with this,..uh, 911 number. But is it gonna
cut down on false alarms? Is it gonna give people a sense of
security they really need in a crisis? Or are some people gonna 
abuse the system?" Roy wondered. 

The rest of the gang shook their heads a few seconds later, 
not believing Roy's negative angle for even an instant.

"It is possible." Roy insisted. 

"That very issue has faced opposition by some people close to the
department already. " Hank Stanley said to all of them. 

"Who?" inquired Johnny.

"Chief McConnikee and Dr. Kel Brackett."

"Brackett ?!  I figured he would and probably that new doctor friend
of his in Intensive Care, that Dr. Cederstrom, would, too." Johnny said 
with a sarcastic smile on his face. "I wonder what their beef about it
is?"

"Johnny, are you in love again?" Chet asked him when Johnny
suddenly rubbed his nose in a telltale fidget.

"No, not with her. She's in love with Dr. Brackett and they may be
just like each other, but I still think that they aren't going to last long."

The whole crew erupted in hearty laughter that woke up even the
sleeping dog.

Mike Stoker was about to make a crude couple comment when the 
station's SCUs went off and Sam Lanier's voice rang over the 
loud speaker.

##Station 51. Possible heart attack. 6042 Emerson Blvd. Room
120. 6042 Emerson Blvd. Room 120. Cross Street Hazelton.  Meet
the nurse at the nurse's station. Time out : 0718.##

"L.A. Station 51, KMG 365." replied Captain Stanley from the bay
alcove.

Both units took off with lights flashing and sirens blaring
towards the address which they knew was a nursing home.

________________________________________________________

Photos:  None. 

*********************************************************
From: Mark Panitz <mrpanitz@yahoo.com> 
and the Voyagerliveaction Staff Writers
<voyagerliveaction@yahoo.com>
Date: Mon Jul 3, 2006 12:07 am 
Subject: Reminiscing  


"Yeah, today feels like the toss of the dice on luck today 
and no doubt we'll be seeing that more clearly once more 
calls roll in." said Gage as they sped ahead of the engine
on their way.

"Luck, huh? I remember a day like today. It was
about this same time last year..." Roy said.  "Remember 
that one, where the child got his head stuck inside a chair?" 
he prompted his partner with a head bob as he changed lanes.

"Yes, wasn’t that the day where the tenant didn’t have a smoke 
detector and we noticed it?" Johnny thought back, gesturing 
pointedly while he helped Roy watch the road all around them.

"Yep. And soon, it happened that month too, that the county was 
GIVING away smoke detectors. How ironic is that?" Roy chuckled, 
turning up the dash radio when a cancel came out for a fire station. 
"Not for our station."

Johnny blinked but didn't seem to have paid Roy's remark any 
attention. "Huh, That was fire prevention week as I recall." Gage 
said, glancing down at his address sheet. "Turn a left here."

DeSoto cranked on the steering wheel without even being aware 
that he had been directed to do so. He was still very lost in thought. 
"That’s right. That’s when I got the odd feeling we'd better put one 
up for them."

"You did?" Johnny asked. "I don't remember that."

"I do. And later that day, we returned to her apartment and helped 
that mother put up our last smoke detector."

Gage picked up the memory. "Oh, now I recall it. Didn't we do that 
just in the nick of time, too?"

"Huh?" Roy blinked.

Johnny elaborated. "That same evening, they had an unexpected house 
fire afterwards.."

"Oh, yeah.. That smoke detector ended up saving their lives, so
we didn't have to, that's right. Boy was that a miracle it all 
happened that way." DeSoto sighed in amazed reflection. "What 
good luck..."

"Luck went bad that day, too." Johnny said, beginning to squirm.

Roy nodded in agreement. "I remember. It was when that work crew 
was supposed to be flushing the water line, but fuel got into 
the pipeworks instead. Was that it?"

"Yes. How could I forget? That’s when I tried to put out the fire
with the garden hose and I got a little crisped here on my arm."
Johnny moaned.

DeSoto was liking the turn of conversation. It kept him from
thinking about the way traffic was slowing them down due to an
early rush hour. "Or about that other bad timing,.." Roy stuttered. 
"W-what about that time that day when you wrote the chief 
about auto drivers refusing to pull over for the squad." he said, 
throwing a hand at a truck in front of them who wasn't yielding to 
their flashing reds and sirens as he gritted his teeth in barely 
veiled irritation.

Gage's voice grew in anger, too, when he noticed the problem
just ahead of them. He poured all of his energy into a glare in the hope
that the driver would catch his fury in the rear view mirror. But Johnny's
voice, all the time, remained in civil conversation as he concentrated on
keeping them on the shortest possible route to their current cardiac call. 
"The chief had the sheriff department assign Vince to follow the squad..." 
he replied. "And on one run when I wanted to help out a little while 
off duty, I got a ticket for it!" replied John. 

"You get all the luck.." Roy replied cheekily.

"Very funny. Why don't you just hush up now? We're almost there." grumbled
Gage.

"It takes two to have a conversation.." Roy prodded defensively.

Johnny just glared right back at Roy, returning his affront without speaking.

Finally, Gage's volcano ran over. He stuck his head out the passenger window 
and he hollered at the oblivious truck driver."Hey! You! Yeah, you! What part 
of these big, red, flashing emergency lights don't you understand, buddy boy! 
Move it out of the way!"

Startled into motion, the truck veered suddenly to the shoulder, nearly clipping
Roy's front bumper. DeSoto neatly dodged the driver. "Thanks. That worked.
I knew the horn wouldn't've."

"No problem.." Johnny snapped, sinking back into his seat.

________________________________________________________

Photos:  None. 

*********************************************************
From: rescueman1962@yahoo.com 
Date: Mon, 04 Sep 2006 10:56:25  
Subject: A Beautiful Day 

It took them four minutes to get to the scene. Soon, the residents in
their walkers, canes, and wheelchairs were looking on in curiosity
as the firefighters began hauling the squad's gear in.

An elderly lady sitting on a porch chair replied. "Lord, have
mercy!" as the men made their way to the nurse's station.

Johnny and Roy and the engine crew were met by a CNA named 
Kathy who told them the situation quickly. "Mr. Osterloh has had a 
heart attack. He started feeling short of breath ten minutes ago. Then 
about ...oh, a couple of minutes later, he said that his chest was 
hurting.  We've put him on oxygen." she said.

________________________________________________________

Photos:  None. 

************************************************** 
From: "Derrick" <rescueman1962@yahoo.com> 
Date: Mon Sep 4, 2006 6:07 pm 
Subject: Primary Complaint 

"Is that his primary complaint?" Roy inquired.

The CNA Kathy replied as they were escorted down the 
hallway to Mr. Osterloh's room. "Yes.  He does have a history of 
hypertension and he's had several strokes. He takes 
Aldomet, Quinapril, Plavix, and Potassium. He is awake, but at 
times is unresponsive."  

Two LPNs and an RN were attending to him, keeping him on oxygen
and monitoring his vital signs. "How's he doing?" Johnny asked
the RN name tagged Glenda standing at his head. 

"He's on 8 litres of O2." she answered, looking up. "Vitals are now
180/150, he's got a pulse of 120, and his respirations are now 
down from 28. They're at 20. His O2 sats have increased from 
86 to 90 %." 

Johnny and Roy came in closer visual contact with the pale, 
gaunt elderly man. Johnny spoke to him. "Mr. Osterloh. My 
name is Johnny and this is my partner Roy. We're paramedics 
from the fire department. We are here to help you. How are you 
feeling?"

Mr . Osterloh's eyes and head rolled back and forth as he took in
breaths of oxygen from the mask and he said. "Help me. 
I feel terrible."

"Do you know what's bothering you today?" Roy asked, to
get the story straight from their patient.

"It's my chest. I can't breathe. I think I'm having a heart attack!"
he gasped.

"Okay Mr. Osterloh? Can you tell me where it hurts right now? 
How bad is the pain?" Johnny shouted while he drew out
his stethoscope to use from the I.V. box.

Mr. Osterloh's head went from side to side again as he 
kept taking in deep breaths of oxygen without speaking.  

Nurse Glenda replied after a decent interval. "He said 
that it started about twelve minutes ago and that the pain began in 
the center of his chest and radiated into the middle of his back. 
He rated his pain a ten out of ten when we first got in here."

----------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Photos: None. 

**************************************************
From: Patti or Jeff or Cassidy <theaterhost@voyagerliveaction.com> 
Date: Wed Sep 6, 2006 2:20 pm 
Subject: Blow Out.. 

"What was he doing when all this started?" asked
DeSoto to Glenda, the home's head registered nurse.

"He was resting after taking his morning shower.
He bathes from a chair with an orderly helping him."

Roy nodded. "Are there other new status changes that
you've noticed on him, such as any new confusion, lethargy, 
agitation, slumping, flaccid limbs, or drooling?"

"No, he's still at the baseline of what's normal for him."
replied Nurse Glenda. 

Johnny got her attention after looking at the man's
eyes for a pupillary response with his penlight. 
"Is he on Coumadin? Or Aspirin?" he asked. "Roy,
he's PEARL, both sides."

"No. And before you ask it of us, this resident does not have 
a DNR order. So please, treat him as you will. He has no
family left to speak for him." replied the RN Glenda, softly.

Gage nodded as he bent over their patient again.

-------------------------------------------------------------

Photos: None. 
  
**************************************************
From: "Derrick" <rescueman1962@yahoo.com> 
Date: Tue Sep 5, 2006 9:10 pm 
Subject: Treatment   
 
"Roy, I got decreased lung sounds with rales and stridor on the
left side." Johnny paused as he listened carefully to the right side
of Mr. Osterloh's chest and said. "Decreased and clear on the
right." As Marco assisted Roy, Johnny once again asked
Mr. Osterloh a question. "Mr. Osterloh, when did you have your 
last stroke?"

Mr. Osterloh turned his head in the direction of Johnny and
said. "It was, I think back in .... in ..... February? March?
I don't remember anymore." 

"Mike is contacting Rampart now on the biophone." Marco
said. "Or... do you want to do it?" Lopez wondered.

"That's ok, let him do it." Johnny replied as he began a 
probing hands-on search for problems by palpating the 
sick man's gaunt abdomen. "I'll take over for him in a second.
I gotta do a quadrants' check here."
 
Nearby, Mike Stoker spoke into the handset.
"Rampart Base, County 51. How do you read?" 

-------------------------------------------------------------

Photos: None. 
  
**************************************************
From: Patti or Jeff or Cassidy <theaterhost@voyagerliveaction.com> 
Date: Wed Sep 6, 2006 2:20 pm 
Subject: Blow Out.. 

Dr. Kel Brackett picked up the line. ##51, I read you loud
and clear. Go ahead.##

Johnny then took over the biocom from Stoker after they had
established the opening channel. "Rampart, we've a male who's 
a partial invalid in the state home. Aged,..uh.."

"Seventy two.." said the CNA Kathy helpfully.

Johnny smiled at her. "...aged seventy two who's complaining of 
a severe sub-xiphoid pressure radiating into his back, accompanied 
by some dyspnea. He's on medication for hypertension with
Aldomet, and an ACE inhibiter Quinapril.  Also, he's on Plavix.." added 
Johnny as he confirmed the third medication by eyeing up the pink,
round biconvex, debossed, film coated tablets in the last bottle
another nurse was showing him for their dosage information. "His skin's
warm, flushed. Vitals signs at 0722 hours were : BP 180/150, pulse
120, with respirations at 20. His O2 sats are 90 % on six liters of  
unhumidified O2. He has a long history of multiple cerebrovascular 
accidents with some resulting mental and physical detriment.
There is partial paralysis on the right side of his body." 
 
##Are there abnormal lung sounds?##

Gage gathered those signs quickly. "Rampart, no bruits heard higher
up, but lung sounds are diminished with rales and stridor on the left 
side, and clear but decreased on the right. Negative for hyperpercussion. 
Also, note that he already has an IV, Rampart, a saline locked intravenous 
access point mid radial...dated today." Gage said, picking up Osterloh's 
arm as he peered at the saline lock's transparent tape ink marks. "The 
nurses here say he's on potassium therapy. Uh,...currently, this chest 
pain's sitting around a ten out of ten, by his reckoning. We believe him. 
He's getting slightly agitated and very restless."

##What else have you found?##

Roy took over the phone. "Doc, the abdomen is non-tender on palpation 
with no pulsatile masses. Bowel sounds are normal. On his neurological status :
He is physical effort intolerant and somewhat stuperous at irregular intervals. 
We suspect he is suffering from long term severe, uncontrolled hypertension
on top of his new problem today." Roy added.

All the nurses in Mr. Osterloh's room winced with guilt at that. 

Glenda, the home RN spoke up. "I'm sorry he hasn't been managed better. 
We've all been horribly overloaded with residents this week. 
We've been trying for three days to get more nurses in from the temp agency, 
but no one wants to come here. Not even the student nurses. I guess it's 
because of the stigma we have of being a nursing home for the homeless."

Roy nodded, inclining his head politely as he handed the phone receiver
back over to Johnny so he could prepare what he knew Brackett would
order for medications. 

Johnny took Roy's current notes from him deftly, and the phone, while DeSoto
moved onto other care duties. "Rampart, County 51. We have current 
vitals of BP 170/120, Pulse is now 124, respirations 20 with O2 sats, still at 
90 %. We can send you a strip in a minute, Rampart, at your discretion."

##Is there any increase in edema in either his periorbital, upper, or lower 
extremities', regions?## Kel asked. 

"Negative at this time, Rampart." Gage replied.

Nearby, Nurse Glenda tapped Kathy the CNA on the arm.
"Kathy, bump up his oxygen to fifteen liters on a non-rebreather. The
light Venturi's not doing the job well enough. Do you see
the blue forming around his ears and throat area?"

"But he hates the smaller mask, ma'am. He put up a fight
something awful yesterday.." Kathy whispered to her trainer, 
trying not to be overheard by the paramedics. 

"Would you please make the change? These nice young paramedics'
primary goal is to reduce Mr. Osterloh's oxygen needs as soon
as possible. Don't fret about Teddy. He's uncomfortable to the point 
now where he won't complain much, no matter what we do for
him, Kathy. I promise you that he won't be fighting anyone
today. He hasn't any energy left for it."

Kathy complied and soon, Osterloh's respiratory rate eased
even more to almost a near normal level.

Johnny frowned when his fingers brushed over the sick man's
hot, sweaty skin. "What's this stickiness on his chest? Is it afterbath 
lotion?"

"No, sir." Kathy blurted out. "It's NTG ointment, he has an order for 
it PRN on his daily chart."

"When did this stuff go on?" Gage asked, being neutral.

"Just as soon as we realized that Mr. Osterloh was in trouble.
About ten minutes ago." replied Kathy's preceptor, Nurse Glenda.

"Ok, wipe it off." Johnny told her without looking up again.

"But, he needs it. He's in a lot of pain.." Kathy insisted.

Roy lifted his head from the drug box he was rifling through. 
"Kathy, nitro in topical form takes up to an hour to work.  And where this's been
applied is going to be in the way of our electrocardiogram lead placement.  
Don't worry. He'll get his nitro. We'll be giving it I.V. in a minute or two. The
delivery route's far faster that way." he said with a smile, trying to counter
the gruff order Johnny uttered. He knew his partner only got short with
relatives and witnesses on a scene when he was worried. Tactlessness wasn't
Johnny's intention at all, so Roy felt he always had to explain that to others.

Dr. Brackett's first diagnosis boomed out and made the others hasten
to listen to his words. ##Squad 51, I concur with your finding of suspected 
heart ischemia along with hypertension. Go ahead and administer Nitroglycerin 
IV 5 mcg/min, with a bolus into that saline lock. Make sure that's patent first before
any injections to avoid the chance of causing chemical necrosis in his arm.  
Increase the NTG dose by 5 mcg/min every five minutes to the desired effect 
up to three times total if he's still uncomfortable. Go ahead and establish a 
Y-site, too, for other medications, at the lock. I'll be ordering them just as soon 
as I know more. Give him aspirin,.. 162mg chewable tablets by mouth if he's 
able. Also, draw up an injection of Lidocaine 1mg/kg and have it standing by 
for a slow IVP in the event you note signs of ventricular ectopy or a new run 
of multifocal PVCs. Especially if there's increasing ectopy." 

"Isn't that dangerous for him to take ASA on top of his Plavix?" asked
the nervous, near tearful nursing assistant Kathy.
 
Roy smiled. "Aspirin should be administered, regardless of whether 
the patient is taking anticoagulants. We don't want him developing
a pulmonary embolus. We want to mimimize his ischemia immediately 
if this is truly an early heart attack. Having blood a little thinner's ok here
and it's all for his greater good. Sort of like not being afraid of giving a 
little more sugar to a stricken diabetic on the off chance that their problem's
hypoglycemia. A little more will never hurt him."

Kathy nodded, wide-eyed with concentration. This was the first time
she had ever seen paramedics at work in her entire life.

Brackett returned over the speaker system on the biphone.
##Have one of the home's nurses draw laboratory specimens. 
Tell her to draw a variety of tubes that will allow our lab to perform 
hematology, chemistry, and coagulation studies.  

##Begin your MONA protocol.  Use the nitroglycerin first and then add
morphine to help relieve that chest pain as needed. Use two to four
milligrams MS IV only when and if the nitro doesn't appear to be 
working for you anymore. Get another set of vital signs, including 
a pulse oximetry. Attach your heart monitor and get me a detailed, 
one minute duration, twelve lead electrocardiogram..## said Kel. 

##Have one of the nurses on site prepare him for some continuous 
respiratory monitoring. We'll be needing a close watch over him 
after we give out his cardiac narcotics. If there's no resolvement 
of pain after your third dose of NTG, raise him up to a semi fowler's 
position to aid his difficulty breathing...## Brackett told his paramedic
crew. ##Support him on ambu if he's fatiguing.##

-----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Kel turned his head and nodded for Nurse McCall to take extensive 
notes. "Dix, when he gets here, I'll want a hemogram, 
electrolytes, a blood sugar, BUN, creatinine, a full coagulation study 
with cardiac markers, an eg,  a myoglobin, and a screen for troponin. Also 
tell them to get these: An LDH, LDH isoenzymes, CPK, CPK isoenzymes, 
a CBC, and blood differential. And for Hematology, obtain renal function 
studies on the blood 51 will be bringing in. Order a room for an emergency 
cardiac catheterization, stat. Also, line him up for chest X-rays: a PA, lateral, 
an antero.. the works. I want to rule out all possible parenchymal involvement
complications."

"Right away, Kel." said Dixie. And then she got on the white phone.

-----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Back at the home, Mr Osterloh began moaning. "I can't.. chew these... 
I- I'll choke.." he gagged on the baby aspirin.

"Just relax, sir. Put them under your tongue. They'll dissolve there
in a couple of seconds, ok? You don't have to swallow them if you
don't want to." said Johnny near his ear.

Then he turned his attention to the EKG monitor that Mike Stoker,
Chet and the others had set up. He turned on the unit, studied it
for a couple of seconds, then he picked up the phone, trying not
to frown in dismay. 

"Doc, we're transmitting now. I'm reading just initial T-wave inversions,
without significant ST segment elevation..." Gage reported. 
"Tachyarrythmias are evident but there's no signs of Wenckebach's 
or Mobitz II complexes."

The EKG strip came through on the base station's monitor and Dr .
Brackett meticulously examined it. He then said to Johnny.
##51, how much does the patient weigh?##

"Approximately 165 pounds or 75 kilograms, doc." Johnny said as
the siren from the Mayfair ambulance stopped in the distance.

The RN beckoned Kathy to her side, handing her a kleenix. "Do you
understand what that paramedic's saying about Ted's EKG?"

Kathy shook her head, no. 

"Ok, let me explain a little bit about cardiac strips for you. 
A T-wave inversion usually signifies an area of ischemic heart 
muscle from decreased blood supply. The cells are not yet actively dying. 
Secondly, an ST segment elevation of more than two mm in an affected area 
signifies an area of the heart muscle that is infarcting. The cells are actively in 
the process of dying..." said the Glenda.

Kathy actively sucked in her breath.

The RN reassured her. "Now he hasn't found anything truly dire yet.
Mr. Osterloh's ST waves are still normal or very near so or he would have 
mentioned something about them, ok?"

Kathy sighed quietly and studied her shoes. "This is hard, ma'am."

"I know. Mr. Osterloh's your first crisis call on a resident. You did fine.
The help he needed so badly's here now and they're doing everything that's 
physically possible in order to save him. You've been a large part of
of that good care. Be proud of what you've done. It's all any of us can do
when we work for a state run home. Now listen to this last part on an EKG's 
tracing.  A Q-wave formation signifies an area of cellular death, an earmark 
of a very old or extensive MI. He's clear of Q's, Kathy. That's a very
good sign."

Dr. Brackett was issuing the last of his preliminary guidelines.
##Monitor for arrhythmias, signs of pulmonary edema, and cardiogenic 
shock, 51. Let me know the NTG dosings' outcome as soon as you find out.## 
 
Kathy remembered some of her schooling and she began muttering
under her breath.. "Twelve leads. Ok,.. Leads V1, V2, V3 shows anterior 
damage. Leads II, III, AVF shows inferior damage. And last of all, Leads 
I, V4, V5, V6 shows up any lateral heart damage. Got it.." she told herself.

Then Kathy tried to make herself smile when the frightened Mr. 
Osterloh looked straight at her own terrified, staring eyes.  
 
 --------------------------------------------------------------

"Ok, Glenda is it?" Roy smiled quickly as he angled his
head around to look at the tan haired RN.

"Glenda, that's right."

"Could you and Kathy here help me sit him up a little higher
in bed? Doctor's orders."

"Sure.." said the two nurses on the home's staff. 

The three of them no sooner had the man's head propped 
against the headboard on ample pillows when Mr. Osterloh's
chin suddenly slumped down onto his chest.

"Whoa...." DeSoto muttered, quickly sliding down the bed to
pull his patient flat once more so he could regain an open airway.

Gage startled, too. "Rampart, our victim's just gone unconscious 
following a positional change. Stand by. Roy?"

"He's ok.. He's ok. Uh,... A short period of asystole, now bradycardic."
Roy said, gripping the old man's carotid pulse. "Palpable."

Both medics eyeballed the EKG monitor as Osterloh's respirations 
went from deep and fast ones to weak and slow ones and then into
a pause of nonbreathing for a long moment. Then Osterloh gasped
through his faint, which started the cycle all over again. 

Gage looked up. "Chet, get on his head. Make sure he keeps color."

"I got him." said Kelly.

Roy looked at Cap. "Fire up the defib, Cap. We might be needing it."

Hank bent over the bed to turn on the Datascope's power button. 
"Want it charged?"

"Not yet. Save it." DeSoto grunted as he studied the old man's pupils.
"They're fixed Johnny. And he's flushing again.." he said, pointing to
Osterloh's flaccid face.

"Incontinent." said Gage, looking down. Then he reached for a nearby 
wrist. "Got a pulse down to here." 

Stripping off their patient's slippers, Gage pulled out his clothes shears 
from his hip holster and ran their snubbed ends up the bottoms of both
of Osterloh's feet firmly, one at a time. The toes curled downwards
at the tickling. "Bilateral Babinski's sign with a resumption of effective
heartbeats." reported Johnny to Roy.

"Stokes-Adam's attack?" DeSoto asked him.

"That'd be my guess.." answered Gage.
Johnny got on the phone again. "Rampart, our victim's just
suffered what seems to have been syncope triggered by
a heart arrythmia."

##I saw that small change, 51. Make sure he's perfusing and 
breathing adequately. Has he regained consciousness yet?##

Roy looked back up at Chet, who nodded as the old man began to stir
in his hands. "That's affirmative, Johnny." Kelly announced, making sure
the oxygen mask stayed firmly over the man's nose and mouth. 

"That's odd." said Johnny out loud. 

It was overheard by Glenda. "What's odd? That? That was just one of his 
usual spells whenever he gets stressed out. They never amount to much."

"Ma'am, I beg to differ, but Stokes-Adams is a serious symptom." said
DeSoto sharply. He immediately checked himself and got to work on
getting another blood pressure reading. 

Johnny tried to ignore the tension that was growing in the room. 
"Rampart, our patient's showing extreme diaphoresis now and he's
beginning to moan incoherently."

"It's up again.." said Roy, reading the air dial on the blood pressure cuff.
"160 palp."

"He's proving positive for labile hypertension, doc. Dyspnea's growing more 
pronounced despite an effectively returning consciousness level." said
Gage quickly when Ted began to utter some words in anger.

---------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
 
"Dix, sounds like his sinus node and the AV node are degenerating."
Kel said.

"And no one noticed that over there?!" Dixie asked, getting mad. "Just
what kind of nurses are they hiring at the state level?"


---------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
Gage confirmed Kel Brackett's new fear. 
"New degeneration is progressing through the whole conduction system, doc, 
advancing from the SA node downwards towards the ventricle. I'm seeing ST 
elevation in the inferior leads II, III and aVF.  Also he's got some diffuse ST 
elevation with reciprocal ST depression in the anterior leads, especially in 
the right V leads."

##51, sounds like he's getting a right ventricle infarction. Let me see a new strip
a.s.a.p. Also, carefully re-auscultate the chest and inspect again for peripheral 
edema as an indicator of right ventricular failure. There may be other
acute changes going on that we're not yet aware of. Be thorough, guys.
This is important.##

Roy bent over Mr. Osterloh with a stethoscope and motioned the nurses and
newly arrived ambulance attendants into silence. He listened a few seconds
in every field on the sick man's chest. "Johnny, he's got a transient abnormal 
point of maximal impulse. It's laterally displaced to the anterior axillary line, 
over the fifth intercostal space.  And it's enlarged. I'm also hearing an S4. It's
manifesting as a short, soft basal diastolic murmur. Is he in pulsus alternans?"

"Yes. It's prominent most at the radials to carotids." said Johnny, checking 
the man's heartbeat equality at his wrists, foot tops and neck.

The nursing assistant Kathy watched on with growing puzzlement and stress. 
::Oh, what now?:: she thought with great worry.

Gage snatched the biophone receiver from his shoulder. "Rampart, new findings
past that new acute inferior MI. We've got a pulse deficit and a growing atrial gallop."

--------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Brackett looked up at Dixie with a sharp frown. "Severe regurgitation?" he thumbed
the talk button. "51, is your patient exhibiting a widening pulse pressure?"
 
Roy check the man's BP again. This time, with a stethoscope, anticipating trouble.

Gage leaned over to see what Roy had written down.
##10-4, Rampart. He's 152 over 80 on the left.## 

----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
 
Dixie's eyes widened. "An aortic insufficiency murmur? I wonder how long he's
had that going on?" she hissed with growing fury.

Brackett grinned. "Easy, hon. That nursing staff's not to blame. A possible aortic 
aneurysm looks just like a heart attack in a lot of cases and sometimes, they 
even form without any symptoms whatsoever." he said. "They were good
enough to see the new MI as soon as it was happening. And that, very
possibly, is going to save his life today. If he hadn't of had one, most likely,
that aneurysm would've killed him by nightfall before anyone realized
that something was even slightly wrong."

------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Roy held onto Mr. Osteroh's arms to keep him flat when he began to speak as he 
reawakened. His voice was now raspy and weakened. "What's going.. uh, I
can't.. seem to.." he broke off, struggling to breathe. "Somebody.. help me." he
croaked. "..please. I still can't ...swallow the medication.. in my mouth.."

DeSoto gestured at Johnny, drawing out a suction wand as he swept a couple
of fingers across his own throat in significant meaning. He began to use it
to clear out Osterloh's airway. The sputum he got out was red tinged. 
Osterloh started to cough and couldn't stop as Roy aided him. DeSoto spoke
quietly, trying to calm the tired old man. "I got this. Just relax. Let me
do all the work. Just try to keep breathin' calm and slow. Keep this
oxygen on now, ok? Don't try to fight it here." he said, pulling Osterloh's hand
away when the man tried to pull off his mask. "All this spasming'll go
away just as soon as I'm done. There.. I'm through. That wasn't so bad
after all, now was it?"
 
Mr. Osterloh sighed, trying to suppress all of his misery and painful hacking.

Gage nodded, adding that coughing clue to his notes. Then he picked 
up the phone again, but before he could speak, Kel beat him to it.

##51, is the patient exhibiting hemoptysis with all of that coughing?##
Kel asked, cocking his head at the noise he was hearing over the frequency.

"That's affirmative, Rampart." Johnny replied.  

##Place two large bore intravenous lines in around the saline lock 
and begin Nitroprusside, 0.5-3 mcg/kg/min IV. Use in conjunction with 
Esmolol to counteract the physiologic response of reflex tachycardia that might
occur if the nitroprusside's used too early. I want to drop all of that 
blood pressure flowing against his weakened aortic wall now.## Kel told Gage.

Across the room, the home's nurses didn't hear the second diagnosis.

Glenda leaned over and whispered into Kathy's listening ear. "Nitroprusside
causes peripheral vasodilation by direct action on venous and arteriolar smooth 
muscle, reducing artery peripheral resistance. This is commonly used IV because 
of its rapid onset and short duration of action. It's the most easily titratable to 
reach the desired effect we need right now. Mr. Osterloh's pressure's unstable now."

"Is he going to be ok, ma'am?" trembled Kathy. 

"He's got a good chance if the surgeons react quickly. Now more about 
Nitroprusside.. It's light sensitive. Both the I.V. bag and the tubing should be 
wrapped in aluminum foil.  Ah,...see? That paramedic remembered. He's 
given one of his firefighter friends that chore to do."

Kathy nodded, handing Marco a roll of soft tape from the blood drawing
tray that had been near the bed out of his reach. 

Glenda smiled. "Now about Esmolol... It's an ultra short-acting beta 1 blocker 
that's particularly useful in patients with labile arterial pressure because it can 
be abruptly discontinued if necessary.  Especially for patients with his kind of 
hypertension history who's at uncertain risk of bronchospasm from beta blockade. 
Now that drug's elimination half-life is nine minutes. You'll soon see the paramedics 
trying to bring his pulse down to a target heart rate of 55-65 bpm."

Dr. Brackett's voice continued issuing critical orders. 
##51, for the beta blocker.. This is your loading dose infusion rate: 
Use 250-500 mcg/kg IV over 1 min, followed by a 4-min maintenance infusion 
of 50 mcg/kg/min. If his heart rate's not down yet after a minute, your 
repeat loading doses will be as follows:
Cycle 1: Load 250-500 mcg/kg IV over 1 min, 50 mcg/kg/min IV over 4 min
Cycle 2: Load 250-500 mcg/kg IV over 1 min, 100 mcg/kg/min IV over 4 min
Cycle 3: Load 250-500 mcg/kg IV over 1 min, 150 mcg/kg/min IV over 4 min
Cycle 4: Load 250-500 mcg/kg IV over 1 min, 200 mcg/kg/min IV over 4 min...

When he drops to 100 systolic on his BP,  increase the interval between 
your titration steps from five to ten minutes to maintain him above shock
levels.##

Kathy almost whispered to Roy. "What's happening, sir?"
   
"He's getting into new respiratory distress. All that wheezing, dyspnea, 
and that new cough suggests that he's getting a bit of fresh blood into 
his lung tissues."

"He's been injured?" asked Kathy. "How? We've hardly moved him.."

Glenda, still standing near Kathy, gently took her by the shoulders as
she stood behind the shorter woman.  "Kathy, Ted may have an 
aneurysmal complication newly developing." 

"His aorta?" the girl gasped.

Roy nodded. "Most likely, it's a TAA in his ascending arch. Did
you notice how hoarse his voice sounded when he said he couldn't
swallow the aspirin very well? Bulges in the aorta at that point
can causes pressure on the vagus and peripheral nerves controlling
his larynx, causing sudden onset vocal raspiness."

Kathy nodded. 

A reply back from Brackett nearly made her jump in her skin.
##Assess pain intensity, location, and duration once again, 51.
Give me any new symptoms a.s.a.p..##

"Why did he order that?" asked the CNA of her teaching RN.

The older RN nodded her head gently. "The most consistently occurring 
features of any possible thoracic aortic dissection relates closely to the quality 
of the pain. The pain from a TAD is clearly distinct from the type of pain 
associated with an AMI. A careful history focused on the quality of a 
patient's pain is the most useful tactic for distinguishing an aneurysm 
from a heart attack. It's critical that the right priority problem be found as
soon as possible. For Mr. Osterloh, that means open chest surgery 
immediately while he gets treated for that inferior infarct. For time lost is 
heart muscle lost on one, and a definite life threatening delay on the other."

"This is a dissection then?"

"Yes, for if Ted's aorta had ruptured medially anywhere instead of 
just leaking out in between arterial layers like it seems to be doing,
he would've long since been dead."

Johnny looked up after speaking with his patient. He lifted up the
phone receiver. "Rampart, he's got a new hoarseness in his voice,
difficulty swallowing, wheezing in all fields, swelling in his neck and arms
and positive Horner's syndrome.."

The RN beckoned Kathy forward. "Go ahead and take a look at what
he found on those signs. I'll watch you." 

Kathy soon located the noisy, wet sounds in Mr. Osterloh's chest under
her stethoscope and the constricted pupil, drooping eyelid and dry skin 
on one side of his flushed face. ::So that's Horner's.:: she realized.
::I've only read about that definite sign of a TAA.::

She stepped back after making sure she wasn't stepping on any tubes
or wires behind her.

Brackett's voice acknowledged Johnny's focused reassessment.
##51, D5W is contraindicated now as it'll increase vasoconstriction, and
double the heart's afterload. Keep using intravenous normal saline. That 
solution will increase the heart's volume and stretch the right ventricle 
and decrease his damaged aorta's load. Disregard the MS orders and 
discontinue the NTG. Use 80 mg's I.V. Demerol instead, one time, 
for that right ventricle pain. The last thing I want to do is pool blood to the
right side of his heart as his pressure falls.##

"10-4, Rampart."

##As soon as you get that done, I want a new strip. Then you know
the drill, 51. Give me a vitals set every five minutes and transport as 
soon as possible. Be sure to inform me of any further negative changes.##

-------------------------------------------------------------

Photos: None. 
 
**********************************************************
From: "Derrick" <rescueman1962@yahoo.com> 
Date: Tue Sep 5, 2006 9:10 pm 
Subject: A Short Reunion 

"Our ambulance has arrived, Rampart. Our ETA is about 
seven minutes." Johnny promised.

##See you soon, fellas.##

"County 51, out." Gage said, as he ended the call.

Harold and Malcolm pulled up the gurney soon after Roy had
administered the blood pressure medication and started the drip. 

Meanwhile, the rest of the nurses, exept for Glenda, the charge nurse,
went back into their normal routine of taking care of the residents. 
 
Marco, Chet , and Mike, helped place Mr. Osterloh gently
onto the gurney as EMTs Harold and Malcolm made him comfortable and
put a blanket on him. Then the boys made their way down the narrow
hallway, into the spacious lobby, and out to the ambulance. There they
decided that it was Roy's turn to ride with the patient into Rampart.

As Mr. Osterloh was being loaded in, an old man in a wheelchair
came beside Captain Stanley.

"Poor Ted. He's never been the same since his wife, daughter and
beautiful grandaughter all passed away in that terrible fire up in
'Frisco. Part of him went when they did you know."

A chill of memory swept down Hank's spine.
"Sir, are you telling me about the Latham's Department Store fire
a couple of years ago?"

"Yes, captain. My son worked it along with dozens of other 
firemen that day. Three of his buddies died there besides my own 
boy, Ted's family, and four other civilians."

"Well, I'm sorry to hear that." Hank said.

"If you see Ted again, you tell him that Sweet Louie hopes 
he gets better, you hear?" said the wrinkled man.

::Sweet Louie? I've heard that name before, hmmm..:: thought
Captain Stanley. Then he remembered, with a physical start of shock.
"Ah, sir...uh,.." said Captain Stanley. "Are you "Sweet Louie" 
Jessups, who used to work with my dad at old Station 17 a
few years ago?"

"I'm too old for that kind of work anymore, Hank. Tell me, was your
dad still ornery as hell right to the bitter end?" laughed the old man 
as the rest of the Engine 51 crew gathered around. There was nothing
but affection in his voice and it softened the harsh sounding remark.

Stanley flushed at that proper peg of his dead father's personality. 
"Then it IS you?! How are you, Louie, you old devil?" he grinned
shakily.

"So you remember me, Hank Stanley. How nice it is too see you again. 
You were just a little boy when I first met you. You used to go see your 
pappy all the time at work when you were.. still just a tiny little thing. 
So, now you've..... finally got your own station." Louie said with a bit of 
sadness. "You're dad would've been very proud of you to see that..." 
he whispered fondly. "And your own good men, eh?"

"Yes. This is my engineer Mike Stoker, and my hosemen Marco Lopez
and Chet Kelly." The firemen extended their hands to the retired and
crippled department colleague with a show of appreciation and respect. 
"My paramedics are Roy DeSoto and Johnny Gage. They are on the way
into Rampart Emergency with Ted right now. Don't worry. He's in 
very good hands."

"I'm not worried. I see a lot of these new fangled paramedics around these
parts nowadays. For obvious reasons.." he chuckled. 

The gang laughed along with him. 

"Do you fellas know that ol' Ted Osterloh was a tillerman and hoseman 
up in 'Frisco for a whole crop of years?" he told them. "He worked the 
earthquake there in '57, the hotel fire back in '63 and he was on firewatch 
for many days back in '68 when they tried to burn the city down after Dr. 
King was killed. He just retired in '72. It's a shame today had to happen
like the way it did for him."

Unexpectedly, Cap felt overwhelmed at seeing a figment from his
happier childhood days sitting so wasted and time diminished
in front of him. He fought down a choke of emotions. "Well Louie, it was nice 
seeing you again but ..we've.. got to get back to the station. We still have 
a lot of work to do." Hank said. "So far, it's been a real busy day."

"You boys be careful and don't let it bite ya in the butt."
Louie said as Hank and the guys left his wheelchair's side, sitting on 
the lawn. 

What he meant needed no translation.

"We won't."  Chet replied as they all waved goodbye.

As they walked back to the Ward engine, tears were welling up in
Captain Stanley's eyes.

He and the rest of the crew got in, one by one. Hank nearly slammed his 
door shut forcifully before he stopped himself. Disturbed, Hank rested 
his head in his hands with his elbows perched on the dashboard and
stayed uncharacteristically quiet as he took his helmet off to rub his 
eyes dry.

"What's wrong, Cap?" Stoker inquired. "Are you ok?" he asked.

"I'm fine, Mike." Hank sighed. "I just wished Dad could have been here to see
how Jessups remembered their old firefighting days. You know it's my fault 
that I don't remember dad as well as Louie does. I should've spent 
more time with him. Jessup warned me about the way these d*mn*d cigarettes
mess with your memory and all." Hank said as he tossed a full pack of 
them out the window.

Realizing that nothing needed to be said, Stoker remained quiet as
he fired up the Ward's ignition.

Hank picked up the radio and said. "L.A . Engine 51."

##Engine 51..## 

##L.A., we're 10-8 and returning to quarters.##

##Engine 51. 10-4." replied Sam the dispatcher.

Instead of pulling into the street after the transmission,
Stoker just idled there, thinking. Then he spoke.
"No, captain, it's not all your fault. I know for a fact that your
dad tried to give you the best life that he could. I know.. that
he wanted you to love the life you live and live the life you love 
being a part of the fire department...just like he did. He had to 
make a sacrifice every day to live that kind of life and we have
to make one too, just slightly different. That includes spending time 
with our families now... For every moment that we spend with them, 
means that we cherish those family members we used to have, still.
You should cherish everything your dad was, Cap. Nobody had 
to make up his mind for him to smoke two packs a day. He chose 
to do it and yeah, he thought that nothing was going to happen to him 
until he got emphysema and finally learned that it was slowly killing 
him. You're still young, Cap. Your kids don't have to see you go 
the way he did. It's still your choice."

Hank turned to Mike and said in sarcasm. "Hey, do you know, for once, 
that you're right?" Hank agreed, letting his eyes glisten in remembered
grief. And relief.

Stoker nodded. He looked out the driver's window at the old
man named Louie Jessups who was slowly making his way back
up the ramp for the nursing home's graceful entrance. ::Peace on
you, Louie. From all of us still in the business.::

-------------------------------------------------------------

Photos: None. 
  
**************************************************
From: Patti or Jeff or Cassidy <theaterhost@voyagerliveaction.com> 
Date: Wed Sep 6, 2006 2:20 pm 
Subject: Blow Out 
 
It was later that day and four runs later.

"So what did he have, doc?" Roy asked, leaning in over
the nurse's counter in the ER at the hospital.

Kel looked up from the mug he was pouring coffee into
from the glass pot by the base station. "Huh? Oh, you must
mean that state home invalid you brought in this morning." he
guessed.

"That's the one." Johnny agreed.

"He's alive and currently undergoing a hypothermic, circulatory 
arrest, open-anastomosis." Kel smiled as he rattled off the 
procedure's official name.

"Excuse me, .." coughed Johnny, on a donut. " *Sputter* A what?"

Roy elaborated. "A cold patient bypass operation.."

"Yeah, I got that part. I got that part. Geesh. What I meant was,
what for?"

Kel angled another eyebrow at Gage. "Mr. Osterloh had an acute
fusiform thoracic aortic arch aneurysm dissection in progress. We're
successfully repairing it." he grinned.

"Wow, is he a lucky guy." said Johnny.

"He sure is." said Dixie McCall from where she relaxed on a metal
stool in front of a small stack of charts. "He only had a false passage 
for blood opening up between the layers of his aorta. Something called
a fistula began leaking into his lungs through the pulmonary vein's
overstressed capillaries during the fifteen minutes you had him."

Kel demurred. "And that inferior MI was his only, easily resolvable, 
resultant complication."

Gage whistled low in his throat. "So when did his aorta begin to tear?"

"Probably at the moment you two noticed his onset of Stokes-Adams."

"Doubly lucky!" Gage exclaimed, spraying out pastry crumbs all over
the desk.  "I've heard a TAA dissection usually begins with a tear in the intima, 
the vessel's innermost lining." he contributed. "And kills people slowly in
their sleep."

"It can and does." Kel laughed in amusement. 

With feigned disgust, Dixie brushed away the donut pieces raining down on
her paperwork. "All true.." she agreed. "Doctor? What exactly 
are the stats on that?" she teased sarcastically, getting into the conversation.

Kel, obliviously in his element, took her quite literally. "Stanford class A 
TADs will give ST segment elevations suggesting AMI in up to 8% of cases.
Some ST segment changes (elevation, depression, or nonspecific) are seen 
in up to 42% cases of class A-TAD. One of his chest x-rays showed 
characteristic cardiac enlargement with a dilated calcified aorta."

Right then the phone rang, and Dixie picked it up. "Rampart Emergency. This
is Nurse Dixie McCall..." She fell into listening. "Joe, thanks for the news.
Would you page Dr. Cederstrom and tell her about him, too? She was
worried about Mr. Osterloh."
  
Brackett eyed Gage happily. "Wanna see it?"

"What?" said Johnny, still trying to figure out what Dixie was talking about 
on the phone with Dr. Early.

"His chest x-ray... I'm rather proud of it." Brackett said conspiratorially.

"Sure.." said Johnny eagerly, breaking out of his reverie.

Kel showed him the telltale film.

"Wow. And he's gonna make a full recovery?!  I mean, for sure?"
Johnny gaped.

"No doubt." said Dixie. "From both the aneurysm and his heart attack."
McCall said, hanging up the phone. "That was Dr. Early calling from Cardiology.
Joe said Mr. Osterloh's catheterization contrasts are coming back
with a zero percent thrombolytic occlusion rating in his right coronary 
artery, post surgical. And the Dacon graft sewn in place of his removed 
aorta's not leaking out even one tiny bit into his drains."

"That lucky b*st*rd!" Dr. Brackett shouted.

Gage sniggered, mumbling. "You took the words right outta my mouth, doc."

Kel went on, still excited. "Do you know how hard it is to avoid Prinzmetal's 
unstable angina after that kind of heart attack and TAA dissection?"

"No.." said all three of them.

"Oh.... Well.... Never mind. I guess you'd have to be a doctor in order to appreciate
that one." said Brackett as he set down his empty coffee cup and walked
away.

"I guess so..." chuckled Roy softly, watching him leave. "See you later, Dix.
Johnny and I'd better be getting back to the station. It's almost dinner time."

"See ya, fellas. Have fun on your next rescue call."

Gage lifted his HT. "Squad 51 to L.A. We're available. Returning to quarters."

##Squad 51....*Spap.* ##
 
-----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Photo:  A thoracic aortic aneurysm twelve lead ekg.

Photo: Roy listening to someone using a stethoscope.

Photo: Atrial fib, TAA tracing.

Photo:  An anterior film of an aortic aneurysm.

Photo:  A contrast study of a large TAA dissection.

Photo: Roy, Johnny, Dixie, and Brackett, talking in a room.

Photo: Roy and Johnny pulling away from Rampart in the squad.

***************************************************
From: E!lf <eexclamationmarklf@yahoo.com> 
Date: Thu Sep 7, 2006 9:52 am 
Subject:  It Never Rains 

The sun was rising over Carson, California, as station 51's A-shift 
reported for their next tour. At least it was probably rising, though today 
that was more a matter of blind faith than anything else. Heavy black clouds 
curtained the sky, prolonging the night. Lightning flashed and thunder rolled.
 
John Gage stood in the open bay door, inches from the downpour, and 
warbled off-key. "..They say it never rains in southern California.  
Seems I've often heard that kind of talk before . . . ."
 
"Jeez! Is someone strangling a hyena out here?" Chet Kelly said
as he wandered out into the bay. "Oh, Gage is singing. I should have 
guessed. Hey, DeSoto! Make him stop singing before you have to 
treat us all for ruptured ear drums."
 
Roy, carrying a cup of coffee, strolled over to stand next to his partner, and 
gazed out at the rain. He pursed his lips in a tiny smile and joined in the song.
 "..It never rains in California. But girl, don't they warn ya? It pours. Man it pours!.."
 
Kelly made a face of long suffering. "Great. Just what the world does NOT need.  
Singing paramedics." At that moment the tones sounded. Chet cast his eyes 
heavenwards. "Thank you! Saved by the bell!"
 
##Squad 51. Man trapped at sea. Meet fireboat 110 at the dock. Time out 08:17.##
 
Chet acknowledged the call while Roy and Johnny jumped into the squad. He 
handed the call slip in the window. Roy glanced at it, passed it off to his partner, 
and took off through the driving rain.

--------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Photos:  None.

**************************************************
From:  E!lf <eexclamationmarklf@yahoo.com>
Date: Sun Sep 10, 2006 1:33 am 
Subject: Lost In A Fog

When they drew up to the dock, 110's captain was waiting for them.  

Johnny and Roy pulled everything they were apt to need and he 
was grateful when the captain helped them gather it up and carry 
it down to the fireboat.

"Cap," Roy acknowledged him.  "You got any idea what we're looking 
at here?"

"An old passenger steamer," he told them.  "An environmental group down 
the coast was trying to sink it, to form the basis for an artificial reef."

"Today?" Johnny interrupted incredulously.  "In this?"

The captain shrugged.  "I guess today's when they had their licenses and 
permits for it."

"So what happened?" Roy persisted as the boat got underway.

"They got caught in a storm surge.  We don't have all the details, but 
apparently one of the old funnels collapsed and caught one of the 
guys underneath.  They said he's out cold and they can't get the funnel off him.  
Anyway, we'll know the whole story in a few more minutes."

Rain churned the sea surface into a foamy froth and raised a light mist that 
thickened into patchy fog as they left the coast behind.  Passing through 
stretches of limited visibility, they were forced to slow down.  The fireboat's 
foghorn sounded at regular intervals, flat and forlorn, and now and again it 
was answered by distant horns or by the far off clanging of the bells from channel 
markers.

Johnny leaned over close to Roy.  "Don't stand too near the side," he cautioned.

"Yeah," Roy agreed, regarding his partner solemnly through the double curtain 
of rain dripping off both their helmets.  "I wouldn't want to get wet."

The pilot slowed the boat as a larger shape loomed suddenly in front of them.  
They passed by the bow, where the name "Irene Elizabeth" was briefly visible 
before being hidden by the mists, and pulled up under the steamer's boarding 
ladder.  The two boats faced in opposite directions, their starboard sides together.  

Crewmen on the fireboat tossed bumpers over the side and made the boat fast.

To their port side a Coast Guard cutter emerged from the fog and came up 
next to them.  A young officer climbed nimbly from the cutter to the fireboat.

"Chief Petty Officer Adams.  Glad to see you guys!  We've been waiting.  We 
can help you get the funnel off him, but we don't have a doctor aboard so we 
figured we'd better wait until you arrived before we did anything."

"You did right," Johnny reassured him.  "Can you show us where he is?"

"Yeah, but there's something you need to know first.  There are explosives 
aboard that vessel."

"Explosives?" the captain demanded.  "What kind?  How many?  Where are 
they and how and when are they supposed to be detonated?"

"I don't know," Adams told him reluctantly.

"Well, who does then?"

"The guy who's pinned under that funnel up there.  He's the demolition expert.  
He was setting the charges when the storm surge hit.  It's anyone's guess 
how many he had set by then, or where.  No one else seems to know anything 
about it."

For several seconds the small group of men stood in the rain, regarding 
each other in dismay.  Then Roy and Johnny turned simultaneously for the 
boarding ladder.

"Sooner started, sooner done." Roy said laconically as he followed his 
partner up to the deck of the doomed steamer.

Adams joined them aboard the Irene Elizabeth and led the way aft to where 
a tall, broad funnel lay tilted at an awkward angle.  As they approached they 
saw, first, a pair of legs sticking out from under the funnel's edge.

The three men circled the funnel and Roy and Johnny were relieved to see that 
a capstan had caught the edge of the funnel and was keeping its full weight off 
of the man who was trapped.

"This doesn't look too bad." Roy said.  "That leg's gonna be broken and I'd say 
he hit his head on the way down."  He knelt by the victim's head and used his 
penlight to check the man's eyes.  "Pupils are equal and reactive.  No blood 
or spinal fluid in his nose or ears."  He used a C-collar to immobilize the 
victim's head and neck.

Johnny was examining the funnel as two more crewmen joined them carrying 
a stokes.  "Roy?  I think we can just lift this off him and pull him out.  You 
reckon it's safe to grab him and go?  I don't know about you, but I'll feel better 
once we're well away from this rat trap."

"I know what you mean.  I think that'll be fine.  We can treat him en route."

"Okay then, get set.  We'll lift, you pull.  On the count of three."

Johnny crouched beside the funnel with Adams on one side of him and the 
two-fireboat crewmen on the other.  They counted three and lifted together.  

The funnel rose and Roy pulled the victim clear.

It was the work of but a few seconds to get him into the stokes, covered 
with a yellow blanket and strapped down.  The two crewmen picked up 
the stokes and the group of men made haste for the boarding ladder and 
the safety of the fireboat.

Johnny scrambled down the ladder first, turning to steady the stokes as 
it was lowered over the side.  The captain came to help him and they 
settled it onto the deck of the fireboat as Adams and the two crewmen 
followed.  

Roy handed down the trauma kit and the drug box and was just reaching 
for the ladder when the first three explosions hit in rapid succession and the 
Irene Elizabeth heeled over sharply onto her port side.

Only the captain's quick action in cutting the tethering line kept the fireboat 
from being capsized as well.  The Irene Elizabeth tipped nearly enough to 
show them her keel and for a minute it looked as though she might turn turtle.  

Then two more explosions went off, one fore of the fireboat and one aft.  The 
direct force of the blasts missed them, but the percussion created waves that 
drove them towards the doomed ship.  The pilot gunned the engine and they 
streaked out from beneath the steamer just before she crashed back to an even 
keel.  When she leveled out her deck was awash and she sank from sight in less 
than a minute.

A circle of ripples spread out from where the steamship had sank, rocking 
the fireboat and the cutter, standing ready at a short distance.  As quickly 
as it had begun, it was over and the only thing that marked the ship's passing 
was that now the rescuers had gained a man . . . and lost a man.

"Roy!" Johnny called, his voice echoing weirdly in the drifting fog.  "Roy, where 
are you?  Are you out there?  Can you hear me?  Roy?"

Only the boom of distant thunder and the sound of rain on the sea broke the 
silence that answered him.

--------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Photos:  None. 

**************************************************
Date: Sun, 17 Sep 2006 07:49:53 -0700 (PDT) 
From: "Roxy Dee" <laterrapincabesa@yahoo.com> 
Subject:  The Silence~~ 

110's captain sprung into immediate action. He got on his plastic
wrapped hand held. "Boat 110 to Coast Guard Seven. We've a man
overboard! Our location! We need an emergency sweep right now."

##10-4, Boat 110.## replied the petty officer's superior over the 
frequency. ##We're heading for your port side. Calling in a secondary
air support chopper from her current monitoring position.##

It took everything Gage had to let the others start looking for Roy
while he completed securing the injured man's stokes to the fire 
boat's deck hooks. ::Why didn't I back us out when we still had the
chance?!:: Johnny agonized. ::The scene wasn't safe. Not by a mile.::

Moments after he even thought up his self-chastisement, Gage could
almost hear Captain Stanley's unspoken instant refutement in his head.
'Since when is a scene EVER safe for ANY firefighter?' Hank's inaudible 
advice sang out over the din of the storm. 'If we sat around waiting for our 
butts to be covered first, a sh*tl*ad of folks would die waiting for us to
rescue THEM. Now tell me, is too high a level of caution a true definition
of a first responder? Our job in hindsight after the fact, can be one h*ll of
a bear in the guilty-what-if department, but I refuse to believe that anyone 
here at the station won't rise up to the challenge of facing a little extra 
danger when it's all for a greater good.' said the voice of conscience.

Gage sighed in unrelieved stress. He still found that he couldn't tear his eyes
from the water while he worked on the wounded seaman.::Oh, Roy. What
kind of challenge is it when it's twenty tons of exploding ship against just
one guy?:: came the thought, unbidden. A sharp hand movement from an 
airborne frogman, who had been scoping the sea intently just seconds 
before, caught Gage's eye.  "Cap! They've found him!" he shouted, pointing
to the chopper diver as he made his leap from the helicopter. 

110's captain glassed the area with his incident binoculars. "DeSoto's
conscious. His head's bobbing. He must've let the sinking ship pull him
down out of danger to avoid the brunt of the explosions."

Johnny agreed. "He's a Vet. That's what he did. He would know what to do."
Gage said happily. "Let's get over there now, Cap. That diver's gonna need
help in all this heavy surf."

The coast guard diver surfaced after a monster wave and he grabbed Roy
from behind, where he floundered in the water weakily, as if he was extremely
dizzy. Johnny could see a multitude of small cuts and pock marked burns 
dotting Roy's face and scalp where molten metal had melted skin and hair.

The boat got near and Johnny eagerly reached out with both arms. "Is he
talking? Any broken long bones in his arms or legs?"

The diver spat out his regulator, shouting over the roar of the hovering chopper.
"No, I checked. There's nothing obvious cropping up except the fact that he's
breathing fast from some kind of pain; not like he nearly drowned at all."
said the rescueman. 

Gage was beside himself. "All right. Are you absolutely positive? Neck 
and back ok?" Johnny asked, triple checking things before he tried to
move Roy an inch out of the ocean. He started to reassure himself of Roy's
stable condition after getting a grip on his carotid from where he leaned
over the waves from the boat's dropped rear launching platform. 

"Yes, sir. Not a single scorch on him anywhere past this head singe-ing."

But Johnny was no longer listening. Gage was worried. Roy's eyes were
cracked and seeing, but he seemed distant and staring around all the blood.

DeSoto moaned. Once. "Ohhh.." he grunted. Then his eyes opened wide in
surprise and he didn't try to speak again.

"Roy.. Where are you hurting?!" Gage asked as he gripped Roy's face
where it stuck out of the water in between the diver's arms. He shouted
the question again as he and the other firefighters with him fought to keep
the diver and DeSoto in contact with the boat as the storm's wild waves rose
and fell. "Come on, try and look at me if you can."

Despite some light guidance, Roy didn't react any differently. That's when
Johnny noticed the bright streams of reddish gore running from both DeSoto's
ears. "Cap. He's got concussive injuries. Get the O2 out on the double."

Seconds after DeSoto was pulled out of the water and hauled carefully
into the boat with his belly down, he began vomiting violently around their
feet. It was a mixture of frothy seawater and regurgitated bile.

Roy, uncomfortable beyond tolerance and a bit confused, began struggling
to right himself desperately, shortly afterwards.

Gage snapped out an order. "Sit him up!" he said when he noticed that Roy's
eyes were spinning and shifting in their orbits rapidly. "It's vertigo causing 
this. When it stops, start him on high flow O2 that's been heated. He's gonna 
get even shockier on us real soon."

"I'll get a relay set up with Rampart through your HT." said 110's captain.

Gage nodded. "I'll be ready for them in two minutes."

Roy started muttering as he slowly became more aware of his surroundings.
"Get out! Gotta get out. Fire in the hole! Get down!" he coughed. Gasping, he
tried to get as small as he could around his knees and in doing so, he knocked
off his oxygen mask unthinkingly.

Johnny took him by the sides of the face and gently turned his head up.
"Roy? Hey.. Listen to me. Or at least, watch my face. You gotta keep still on
your butt just like we've placed you...."

DeSoto seemed to understand and he stopped writhing. "I.. can't.....hear anything."
DeSoto choked out with a bit of panic in a salt abraded voice. He closed his
eyes tightly as his dizziness finally started receding.

Gage held him by the shoulders. "I know. I know. Easy. You've got some barotrauma
and you're gonna have to hold your head still and elevated to keep ahead of all
your nausea. It's positional vertigo, ok?" Gage beamed hugely as well, false 
as it was, to carry his words in other ways so he could communicate with his 
seriously stunned partner.

Roy lifted swelling eyes but still, he couldn't focus them."I can't..*cough* I can't
tell up from down, Johnny..." he rasped tiredly.

Gage looked up from where he was taking a blood pressure. "Moore. Steady him 
against your chest. And the rest of you guys, handle him as hypothermic, because
that's what he's gonna be in very short order. Cover him up with everything you've got.
Roy, can you hear me at all?" he asked again, waving fingers in front of Roy's nose
to get his attention.

"Everything's totally...q-quiet, *UghhH* Roy grunted, fighting gut heaves.
"But I...don't ...think I'm hurt much past that. H-head's clear now. Chest is---"

"Hey..You let me be the judge of your current condition." Gage hissed, delivering a
small finger tap to Roy's cheek to get him to focus more on him again. Relief
started soaring even as Johnny gave into the shakes of reaction, ones he did 
not want Roy to mirror. He placed a firm hand over Roy's oxygen mask pointedly 
as he used his other one to grip the top of DeSoto's head in a light admonishing
squeeze."Just shut up and relax a little. Let me do all the worrying about everything."

Roy finally got the gist of what Johnny meant through his roaring deafness and he 
closed his eyes at last. Sighing, he covered both of them with the flat of his 
palms in an effort to quell his violently roiling stomach with a little applied pressure.
"..Compazine...*cough*...Diazepam..?" he whispered to no one in particular, 
seeking no reply. 

But his comment had been overheard.

Gage reassured him of coming relief meds with a brisk flourishing tie-off of a latex 
constricting band around Roy's upper arm. "Right after an I.V. start and a neuro 
check to rule out any head injuries.." he promised with a grin that was only just 
beginning to return to his lips. ::80 over 40. I can live with that number, any day.:: 
he thought gratefully. 

110 leaned over. "How is he?"

"He's gonna live, Cap. Most definitely. But I still think we should fly him out.
He was awfully close to those explosions."

"Gotcha." and the grizzled man began communications to set up for a basket
drop over the boat.

------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Photo: A tail view of a coast guard helicopter hovering.

Photo: Gage, soaking wet, using an HT. 

Photo:  A frogman rescuer holding out a hand to a victim in the sea.
  
Photo: Roy hurt and down with Johnny leaning over him.

Photo:  Johnny treating a head cut on Roy at a scene.

Photo: A rescue diver giving a thumbs up in heavy surf. 

Photo: A coast guard chopper doing a victim pickup.
 
**************************************************
From :  Cassidy Meyers <killashandrarey@hotmail.com> 
Sent :  Tuesday, September 19, 2006 11:16 PM 
Subject :  That Female Fever... 

Gage snatched up the re-established phone when 110 gestured
that it was ready. "Rampart, how do you read?"

##This is Dr. Cederstrom, go ahead, 51.## came the return reply.

Johnny pursed his lips in surprise at the new voice, but then
realized that any possible concussive trauma would warrant 
the attention of an intensive care specialist over a general ER doc
with regards to priority care. ::Brackett's girlfriend? Hope she's as
good as Dwyer says. Roy deserves the best.:: he reasoned. Then
he put all non-business thoughts aside and began his report. 
"Rampart, victim number one has been airlifted into the chopper
and is stable. The I.V. on victim number two has been established 
and is running wide open per orders. Negative on head injury signs
despite the bleeding from both ears. His vertigo appears to be
subsiding but the nausea is not. There appears to be no further
evidence of internal injuries. There's only superficial cuts and burns
about the face and scalp. Uhhh, ...request permission for some
sedation to elicit physical calming and an anti-emetic?"

##10-4, 51. Administer 2 mgs, Diazepam I.V. and 5 mgs Compazine I.M.
Re-evaluate victim two's neuro status every five minutes while
transporting and do not restrict the drainage running out of the ears.
51, is there any possibility that what you're seeing contains 
cerebral spinal fluid as an exudate?##

Gage took a corner of a gauze four by four and soaked the edge
of it into the light blood flow coming from both of Roy's ears. 
He held it up into the daylight, judging its color. "Negative, 
Rampart, there's no amber ring spreading out from either blood stain 
on sampling."

##That's a good sign, 51. Give me new vitals sets on both victims 
as soon as you get into the air. What's your distance out?##

Johnny rubbed his damp forehead, shaking his head to rid his hair of rain
so it wouldn't interfere with his vision. "Our ETA's eleven minutes best
guess, Rampart."

##10-4, I've an ENT standing by. Dr. Morton will monitor your channel
in transit. Confer to him, any adverse changes on either victim. I'll see
you and your second victim in a few minutes along with Dr. Morton.## said 
Carrie. 

"We're on our way, Rampart!" shouted Johnny over the frequency as
the coast guard helicopter waiting for them on hover churned into a 
higher rotor mode. Gage leaned into Roy and briefly gripped his
shoulder to get him to open his eyes. "Meds are in, Roy. You're all set."
he grinned.

Roy tried to smile from under all of his blankets, but he couldn't, so he let
himself slip into sleep as the Valium took effect.

--------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
Dr. Cederstrom met Roy's cot as it came through the Emergency doors. 
Dr. Brackett immediately took the bed of the unconscious seaman, "Carrie,..
I've got him. I'll keep you posted."

"Ok, Kel." answered Carrie. "I'm bringing this fireman directly up to my diagnostic
ward, I've all the ears, nose and throat equipment already laid out."

"All right. I'll check up with you in a few minutes.." said Brackett.

Dr. Carrie Cederstrom leaned over the gurney and checked Roy's consciousness
level with a gentle touch to the side of his face. "I'm Dr. Cederstrom, from ICU."
she introduced herself when he opened his eyes. "We'll get you a notepad
once we get upstairs so you can communicate with us a little better, ok?" she
told him.

DeSoto lifted a water wrinkled hand and gripped hers in understanding as
he let the orderlies fuss with his warmed oxygen supply and as they got him 
into drier blankets once they had lifted him out of the stokes to a fresh bed with
a sheets lift.

Gage was a constant presence at Roy's head, and he was only about a foot 
away from Carrie's elbow. "He slept a little on the way in trying to fight giving
into the sedative, but he's been able to get rid of everything he's been throwing 
up without help."

"All right. How's the vertigo?" Dr. Cederstrom asked.

"Gone. His eyes stopped gyrating five minutes ago." Johnny said quickly.

"Ok,.. looks like the diazepam dosage's sitting just perfectly. It'll take
a bit longer for the Compazine to kick in since he hasn't been moving
around much yet."

Johnny immediately fixed that. "Roy, shift this arm around. The one 
opposite the I.V." he shouted. To carry the hint, he picked up his partner's
arm and started rubbing it around the injection site. Roy dutifully began
flexing his fingers and twisting his wrist around.  The trick seemed to
work, for once they were all piled into the patient elevator, Roy emitted
a sigh under his oxygen mask as his stomach heaves abruptly ceased.

Carrie turned to a nurse who had followed them inside. "I want a full blood workup.
You know my standard. Tell the lab to specifically concentrate on potassium
levels."

Gage looked at Carrie. "Are you still thinking about muscle damage?"

"It's a possibility. I won't rule anything out past the lack of head trauma yet.
It's still too soon yet. I'll know more in a few minutes once Dr. Morton and I get
together to compare our notes on him, Mr. Gage." she grinned.

Johnny finally started to relax as he accepted a spare blanket from one of
the orderlies so he could start to dry himself off. "Wow, I feel small." he said, 
trying to hide his shivering so Carrie wouldn't see it and order him away to 
a post rescue examination. "You know my name already and we've never
ever been formally introduced."
 
Dr. Cederstrom dropped her head in undisguised mirth. "Sorry. Kel always talks 
about his favorite paramedic team. You and Mr. DeSoto here mean an awful 
lot to him."

"You mean professionally.." Johnny gathered.

"That and I also mean personally, Johnny. He sometimes wishes that he could 
spend more time as friends with you and your partner, but work always seems to
get in the way whenever he starts to plan a get together or something. Dixie tries
to help him organize his time a little better, but things never seem to work out
well enough."

Gage grinned. "Yeah, well. Being head of the Emergency Department's a heavy
responsibility. One that I wouldn't want. Oh, ..Uh, no offense, heh." he corrected self 
consciously.

"None taken. I wouldn't want Kel's position either. That's why I took on Intensive Care.
There's fewer patients." she said. Then she looked up as the elevator stopped on
her floor's suite. "Ah, here we are. Minor surgery's all set up. The ENT's waiting for
us just inside."

Johnny sneezed, turning his head away from Roy's bed, where he lay sleeping.
"Ow,...oh, I hate water rescues. Gonna get a cold for sure. Can I break off for a few
minutes to give the guys a call? Cap's gonna wanna know that our station needs
a replacement to fill in for--"

"Of, course. Use the phone by the nurse's station in the center of the room. Pam'll
open a line for you." Dr. Cederstrom gestured, pointing, to orient Gage to the unfamiliar
ICU ward.

"Thanks, Dr. Cederstrom."

"Please, call me Carrie. I'm not as formal as Kel is." she smiled.

"Ok.. Uh, I'll ..I'll.. be right back.." Gage grinned uncomfortably. He frowned at himself
as soon as his back was turned to the lady doctor because he was beginning to
feel an unexpected reaction to Carrie that was totally off base. ::Whoa, Johnny.
Get a hold of yourself. She may be drop dead gorgeous, but she's already
definitely spoken for here. She's with your boss..:: he mentally chided.

Johnny moved to the desk and gratefully accepted a metal stool one of the
nurses kicked over to him so he could sit comfortably in spite of being soaking 
wet like he was. Then he reached for the phone. "Hello, is this the hospital
operator? Yeah, this is Fireman John Gage. Could you connect me up with the
fire department dispatcher in a relay to Station 51 in Carson? Yeah. I need to get
in touch with my captain on official business that's not needed via HT, a.s.a.p.... 
Thank you, ma'am." ::Then after this. I'm calling Joanne  DeSoto to let her know 
about Roy getting hurt.:: he considered, planning ahead.

Gage rubbed his face wearily as every bump and bruise he had taken on the 
helicopter flight in began to show itself, but oddly, part of him deep inside still 
felt pleasantly warm whenever he caught a glimpse of Carrie moving around 
Roy's exam cubicle in spite of the tight hold he thought he was holding on his 
emotions. ::Oh, no. Now what am I gonna do? It's still happening. Chet was right,
I AM still in love..:: he said, as he avoided looking at her to quell another dumbstruck 
grin. ::Am I gonna run into her every trip into the hospital whenever we come in with 
an emergency patient?:: he quailed. :: I sure hope to h*ll I don't.:: he worried, trying 
to rub away the fierce flush just beginning to reddened his cheeks.

He completed his call and learned that Dwyer would be the one to be recalled
from off duty to take Roy's spot on the squad crew for the rest of the night.
::Geez, is her hair really five shades of blonde? Wow. I really like that:: he 
thought. Then he caught himself again sharply and clenched a fist to still
his impulsiveness.

Dr. Morton's entrance into the suite finally gave Johnny Gage something else
to think about. Hurriedly, he abandoned his wool blanket and followed the young
African American resident doctor into Roy's room.

-----------------------------------------------------------------------

Photo:  Johnny on a biophone, tight.

Photo:   Coast guard helicopter being loaded.

Photo:  A smiling young woman doctor.

Photo:  Johnny Gage soaking wet, sulking.

**************************************************
From :  patti keiper <pattik1@hotmail.com> 
Sent :  Wednesday, September 20, 2006 10:23 AM 
Subject :  Gelling Moments.. 

It was ten minutes later, and Dr. Morton was just finishing up his
detailed cranial nerve evaluation on Roy. Mike looked up
from the otoscope he was using to look at DeSoto's ear
canals. "Just one more thing, Roy. I'm going to test some sound
waves out on you." he said, striking a tuning fork on the edge of the 
gurney's railing that was near Roy's sitting knees. 

Next to him, Carrie began scribbling another note for Roy. 'Tell
Dr. Morton which sound is louder, through the air or the one in contact 
with you.' Dr. Cederstrom held up the pad so Roy could read it and 
know what to expect.

Dr. Morton first held the vibrating two pronged fork next to Roy's left
ear for a few seconds. Then he set the end of the grip against DeSoto's
head so the sound began to reverberate through the bones of his skull.
Roy got excited through his obvious worry, "I hear that! The second 
way, doc!" he grinned nervously.

"Is it the same over here?" Morton asked, striking the pitch again 
and repeating the test.

Carrie wrote down another question and held it up. 'How about the right side?'

"It's doing the same thing, doc. Uh, doctors..." Roy corrected. Nervously, 
Roy shoved aside the emesis basin he no longer needed. "What,..what 
does all of this mean? Am I going to stay deaf like this?"

Johnny, standing close and just as intent, muttered. "That's exactly what I 
wanna know, too." he snorted, eagerly handing Morton the ear instruments 
he needed whenever he reached for something.

The ENT standing near Morton and Dr. Cederstrom, looked up from the head films
they had gotten on Roy as a precaution. "Things are looking better and better
at this point. The fact that Roy hears the tuning fork at all means that he didn't
suffer any nerve damage. Just some kind of conductive loss. It could
be anything from some seawater trapped in his inner ears to what I'm seriously 
suspecting as just a couple of bilaterally perforated eardrums."

Carrie started smiling as she translated that particular diagnosis for Roy with
her pen.

Morton grunted as he swung a viewing magnifier in front of Roy's face. "Let me
take this off of you." he said, taking the oxygen mask away and handing it to
a nurse. "You don't need it any more. Your pressure's back to normal. Now,
I want to check out your retinas for petechiae. Petechial damage there might mean
some concussion-like symptoms later. Do you have any sensitivity to light?"
he asked Roy.

Carrie held up the notepad, 'Photosensitivity?' she showed Roy.

Roy shook his head, and winced at the motion, while he waited for Dr. Morton 
to get through looking at his eyes through the dinner plate sized viewing glass.

"That still hurts a bit, doesn't it?" the ENT asked DeSoto, as he touched the backs
of DeSoto's ears with both hands as he palpated the area gently over both ear
canals where his neck joined the bottoms of his ears.

DeSoto nodded.

"Well, I'm feeling more and more confident about your injury, Mr. DeSoto." said 
the ear doc. "Your vertigo was due to getting cold water against your exposed 
cochlea ossicles through the new tears in your eardrums. Did you see how fast it 
went away once you warmed up a little?"

Carrie translated for Roy once again.

Roy blinked and coughed, holding his head against the jolt of pain 
which bit through his head from both ears. "Yeah. But where is this nausea
coming from? I'm sure I'd still be puking if the compazine wasn't working
so well."

"That is what we're going to check out next." said Carrie. "We have to rule out 
any possible organ damage from the explosions' blunt force effects. Lie back onto 
the bed. We have it propped up for you." she said, beginning to run through a 
series of in-depth neurological tests on his limbs with her reflex hammer while
Morton looked for abdominal tenderness or other sore spots.

Mike looked up as he worked. "Any joint pain might mean a trip to a 
decompression chamber to prevent possible embolus formation." he told Johnny.

Gage gaped. "You mean he might have the bends on top of everything else?"

"If he was pulled down deep enough and held there for a while, yes, it's possible."
Dr. Cederstrom told him. "Certain environmental conditions can bring that on suddenly
in some cases of rapid submersion. We have no way of knowing whether or not
Mr. DeSoto's perforated eardrums are the result of being too close to the explosion's
noise or from being pulled underwater too far, too rapidly."

"Never thought of it that way." said Gage, studying Roy's groggy face thoughtfully.
"So what happens next?"

The ENT smiled. "If his blood work comes back negative for hyperkalemia and
decompression sickness tissue byproducts, we can schedule an immediate 
surgical ward in there to begin repairs on Roy's eardrums. If we can't salvage what's 
left, we can perform tympanoplasties on them using small pieces of his scalp tissue 
as emergency grafts to replace them. Also, if we find there's internal aural ossicle 
fractures under the microscope, we can raid the cadaver bank for new bones. Most likely, 
if any ear bones shattered at all, it would involve the maleus and the incus 
only and those are easily graftable. The only telling factor in the end to worry about 
will be about how much scar tissue Roy's body forms after his surgery. That will directly 
determine the degree of hearing loss that might remain as a result of all the direct 
activity that we'll be performing to try and fix things. If we do nothing at all, Roy, you'll
stay deaf at the current level you're experiencing and possibly run the risk of
meningitis developing through your exposed mastoid bone tissues."

Roy finished reading the notepad that Carrie had written down in medical short hand.
"Just how much loss of hearing are we talking about here?"

The ENT frowned. "I've seen cases where people lose only ten percent of everything
and other cases where significant loss occurs despite heroic efforts to repair all
the damage." the doctor shrugged. "But, even if moderate loss results, hearing aids
can easily make up the difference."

"No it can't." muttered Johnny under his breath. "Not in our case." he sighed.

The ear doctor lifted his eyebrows. "Oh? Why not?"

"We're both firefighters, doc. I can't believe that there's any hearing aid out there that's
built strong enough to survive the intense heat of a house fire. They're all made of 
plastic nowadays, aren't they?" Johnny asked even as he wrote down his
comment for Roy to read.

All three doctors nodded reluctantly. And the entire room fell silent in worried thought.

Until Roy started chattering. "Well, I'm not going to worry about what might happen.
Not until all my cards are finally in and counted." he said firmly, grinning as brightly as 
he could.

Carrie smiled at him. "That's the spirit, Roy. It's always good to have a positive attitude."
Then she looked up at Dr. Morton. "So, do you agree with my assessment, Mike?"

"You mean about his having no signs of internal trauma and shock? Yes, I do." 
he replied, stepping back from his hands on examination of Roy. "How are his 
lungs doing?" he said, lifting his stethoscope's drum in a flick where it sat around 
his neck so Roy would get the question being asked.

"They're clear.." said Roy, Johnny and Carrie at the same time.

"I never started drowning, doc. I'm too good a swimmer for that." DeSoto said, 
adding more.

"Oh, that's right. Didn't you used to be a Navy Seal?" Morton asked him.

"He went through the training." Johnny shared with him, when Roy was distracted 
by another lab technician coming in to check his I.V.'s flow rate. "But ended up 
with the Army when the conflict accelerated on us." he said of the Viet Nam war.

"Tell him later that that's what probably saved his life, Johnny." said Morton, 
pulling up the bed rail on his side to hold Roy in safely. "Need me for 
anything else, Carrie?" he asked Dr. Cederstrom. 

"Thanks, Mike. A second opinion's all I needed." she said, picking up Roy's 
chart to start adding orders for an anesthesiologist to report in to oversee 
Roy's soon-in-coming repair procedure. 

"Ok, I'll order up some Demerol for him as a pre-op shot to handle some 
of that pain he's feeling right now." he said writing in Roy's chart over Carrie's
shoulder.

Carrie nodded in appreciation and watched as the young doctor left the room.

Roy looked up from his bruised hands. "So I'm not hurt that badly for sure now."
he grinned, some of the first signs of his usual good nature surfacing at last. 
"Just what I figured. I was telling that to Johnny the whole trip in here, Dr. 
Cederstrom." he complained.

"So?" Gage gaped. "Can you blame me for worrying a little? Geez. You know 
how much it sucks being a paramedic suddenly having to take care of your 
own paramedic partner. I had to make sure you weren't dying or anything."
Johnny wrote down on the pad. Then he tossed it with some force onto
Roy's bare stomach in mock affront.

Chuckling, Roy picked up his notes and read them. "Really?.. huh..."
"You knew I wasn't the moment you took my first pressure." DeSoto teased. 
"So you're not going to be fooling anybody when you say you didn't overreact 
a little when you tell the guys about me later on at the station."

"Did I over react, Dr. Cederstrom? Tell me quite frankly. Did I overreact 
to you about him in any way? I'd like to settle this thing once and for all." 
he said in partially real mock anger.

Carrie gaped for a few seconds. Then she said. "Well...Ten vital sign sets 
reports in ten minutes were ....just a tad bit excessive in my book. " she 
shrugged gently.

Gage threw up his hands and walked away in mock exasperation to get
a rise out of Roy. He returned to the bed, grinning a whole lot more when 
he saw the corners of Roy's mouth curling up.
 
Carrie and the ENT shared with DeSoto what to expect after his ears were
repaired. "Your ears will be filled with biogel that will be holding your new
grafts and bones in place. It'll be important for you to not sneeze, suck on
a straw or cough with your mouth closed or you'll damage everything we've
fixed up. We'll help you keep your mouth open while you're waking up
from the general anesthestic. And your head will feel about ten pounds
heavier, and full, due to the packing gel."

"How long will the procedure take?" DeSoto asked.

The ENT wrote. 'Oh, anywhere from two to four hours. It's delicate work.
If the new eardrums are placed too far forward or back inside the ear canals,
the new drums might bow and re-tear again during the healing process. 
We don't want that to happen. For each time repairs are made to fix
tympanoplasty failures, more scar tissue is formed, resulting in more 
potential permanent hearing loss.'

"Just.. uh, just how much will I lose this time, doctor?" Roy asked.

"We don't know. It all depends on what we find for damage 
once we go into those areas." admitted the ENT on paper.

"I see.." whispered Roy, lowering his eyes.

Johnny's face fell out of his encouraging grin at the news. 
"Roy, do you want me to call Joanne now or later? I mean, it might
calm her down better if.. if she had more to go on about all this."
he scribbled.

"Tell her later. My wife's least favorite words, she tells me, that
she ever hears from doctors are, 'I don't know.' I think we'd better
make sure my facts are known before we tell her anything." DeSoto
decided.

"Ok.. I'll hold off until you hit the recovery room. Joanne's not
expecting you home tonight since it's just the beginning of your
48 hours on so she won't suspect anything from not hearing from you.."
Johnny said as he wrote down his sentences. He winced at his own 
unthinking words. "Sorry.. I didn't mean that to sound like it did."

Roy grinned at the chagrin on Johnny's face. "That's ok." he said
once he read the part of the sentence Johnny had tried to scratch
out. "I'm gonna need a lot of joking to get by this one so you'd
better get yourself and the other guys started on that." he winked.

Carrie touched Roy on the shoulder. "Dr. Morton's ordered for you
some Demerol for pain. Can you have that?" she asked, showing
him the written order on his chart.

Roy read it and nodded. "That'll be ok. I don't have an allergy to that.
I- I'm really ready for some more sleep. It's been a long day." he 
said bravely. "Can't say my luck's been running too.. good ......here."
he mumbled, beginning to snore. Fatigue finally carried him into
sleep and his breathing quieted.

"It's been running better than you know." Johnny said, under his breath.
"You could've died out there today...." he said, feeling Roy's wrist
for the reassuring soft beat there.

"But he didn't.." said Carrie, overhearing Johnny.

Startled, Gage looked up at Cederstrom with surprise and felt heartened
by the encouragement she had him given off the record. "Thanks.."
he smiled, finally relaxing. "So,.. how much sick leave is he going to
need to get his ears better?"

"Oh, it'll take about four weeks tops. It'll take time for his body to
absorb the gel we'll be putting in and about a week's more time for
the swelling to go down to the point where we'll learn where his
hearing's going to be sitting at post operative." Dr. Cederstrom told him.
"As for the rest of his observation, he can go home in the morning once
he's fully over the effects of his anesthesia."

"Okay.. okay. I'll be sure to tell him that,.. Uh, and I'll tell Joanne everything
I just heard, too. Afterwards."

"I'd appreciate that. Thanks, Johnny." Cederstrom smiled.

"No problem."

"Would you care to grab a cup of coffee with me? It'll be a few minutes
before Roy's ENT is ready for me to assist him in the other room."

Gage's heart took a leap.
"Oh, Uh, Coffee?! W-with you?! Well, uh,.. actually. Heh. I think I'd better be 
getting into a new uniform. I'm beginning to itch from all the salt drying 
on my skin, Dr. Cederstrom." he snapped his fingers."Sorry,..uh.. C-Carrie."

"That's all right. I'll take a rain check for another time perhaps.." said Carrie, 
winking slowly at him. Then she moved back to the bed to hook Roy up 
to an EKG in preparation for his surgery.

Gage barely made his exit from the room before giving himself a stunned 
thought. ::Did Dr. Cederstrom just take a pass at me?!:: he fretted. 
::I wonder how Dr. Brackett would feel about that if he ever found out.::
Johnny quailed. ::Whatever the case, he's not going to find out about 
what just happened a moment ago from me.::

----------------------------------------------------------------------------

Photo:  Morton tending a wounded, smiling Roy.

Photo:  Close up of Morton in deep thought.

Photo:  An injection entering an I.V. port.

Photo:  A woman giving a challenging gaze.

Photo:  Roy's eyes getting scoped in a magnifier.

Photo:   Johnny smiling at the hospital around a towel.

**************************************************
From :  Champagne Scott <chameleonkate@hotmail.com> 
Sent :  Thursday, September 21, 2006 1:06 PM 
Subject : Man Trap.. 

Johnny Gage picked up his soggy uniform from the floor
of the squad after he pulled up into the vehicle bay. He
had made due in his T-shirt and night pants to tie him over
until he could grab a hot shower and some new clothes from 
his locker.

Dwyer was already there, checking the engine's resuscitator
apparatus after changing out an oxygen cylinder. He offered a 
friendly wave to Gage as the tired paramedic dragged himself
out of the truck and onto his feet.

Chet Kelly was with Gil, too, and instantly, he gave word out
loud of Johnny's arrival back to the station. The rest of the
gang eagerly abandoned dinner preparations to rush out
and get the latest news.

Gil beat them all to it. "How's Roy doing, Johnny? I heard something
about his undergoing surgery from Dixie a couple of hours ago."

"He's ok, guys. Relax. They're just making a few repairs on his
ear drums, that's all. He's negative for internal trauma,.. brain, pulmonary
or abdominal." Gage smiled wearily.

Captain Stanley was the last to join them all because he had snatched the
coffee pot from the stove to take with him. Cap poured out a mug and offered 
it up to Johnny. He placed them both on the squad's hood and shoved them 
over with a few fingers. "Drink up. You must be starving. Supper's almost ready. 
A-are you sure that Roy's doing ok? Sudden deafness is nothing to shake 
a stick at if it means there's a chance that it might cost a guy his livelihood 
sometime down the road." Hank fretted.

Johnny gratefully warmed his chilled hands around the steaming mug.
"That's not gonna happen, Cap. I made sure I got Roy's results and the
best possible outcome from his doctor just before I left the hospital."

"Oh? Who's got his chart this time?" Hank asked.

"What? Uh,. w-who's got it? Well, uh.." Gage stuttered, uncomfortably. 
Unconsciously, his fingers began to fidget on the rescue truck's hood.

"Uh, oh..." Chet trickled. "She does. Doesn't she?" Kelly grinned like 
a cat. "Man, does Dr. Cederstrom even know she's got the key to your 
heart, Gagey boy?"
 
Gage shot him a dirty look.

Chet was merciless. "Well, you know what they always say about the 
grass being greener.."

Johnny slammed his empty mug on the hood with an angry smack and he
promptly made tracks for the kitchen, abandoning all of them. He made 
straight for Henry, looking to use his big bulk as both an emotional pacifer 
and a convenient hot water bottle. 

Sighing, Gil laid a hand on Chet's shoulder.
"Kelly, I think we'd better back off on trying to throw a complication into
the Rampart/Love Boat bet for tonight. Let's just give him some peace, huh?
We won't find out any more news about Roy if you irritate Johnny too 
much about what's an obviously new sore subject." Dwyer said. "I didn't 
know that he'd feel hopelessly attracted to another man's girl. And I'm sure
that Johnny didn't either."

Kelly finally stopped his predatory grin, cold. "I know I didn't
expect anything like that. I'm totally shocked, man. At full charge." 
he said, gesturing between himself and the blonde haired paramedic. 
"But, uh..what do you think happened between those two earlier that's 
making Johnny so jumpy?" he asked slyly.

Gil licked his lips in deep thought. "Who knows. It's always dangerous 
messing with your boss's girlfriend. I don't think I wanna find out, Chet. Do you?" 
Dwyer asked. Gil walked away to pick up where he left off on his cooking 
duties.

"Yes, I do. " Kelly whispered, when Roy's substitute was out of earshot. "Might be
kinda fun finding out a few of the grittier facts first. Yep. I think I smell another prime 
betting pool opportunity in the works concerning our resident Romeo and his 
forbidden love interest. A guy's got the right to make his rent payment whenever 
he can, doesn't he?" 

Putting his hands in his pockets, Chet wandered back into the kitchen.

Conversation was already getting paramedic technical as Gil mulled over Roy's
prognosis from the details he was gleaning off of Johnny.  Dwyer also wanted to
get one or two bowls of steaming chili into Johnny to stop his shivering before 
they got their next rescue call, for Gil knew that he'd be really miserable 
going back out into the rain without being fully dried out.

Even Henry was trying to lick away Johnny's goose pimples. 

"So, the vertigo's back?" Dwyer asked.

"Yeah, and Roy's hating every moment of it. He's getting dizzy just breathing." said 
Johnny, hugging Henry while he petted the huge dog where he was sitting sprawled 
out in his lap. "The ENT surgeon said that there's a slight chance that some
labrinthine damage in the form of swelling may have occurred post surgical. He's 
being evaluated right now to rule out a possible perilymph leak as the cause of 
his new vertiginous symptoms. So far, Joanne's the only one doing the happy 
dance. They can't knock him out to spare him any misery because he's still 
got too much of the general anesthetic left in his system bogging down his BP."

"That sucks." muttered Stoker, placing a bowl of romaine salad on the table.

"No, it spins." Johnny grinned. "Round and round. Clockwise in his case." he 
chuckled.
 
"Well, how do you explain yours, Johnny?" Captain Stanley asked. "Are you 
gonna do the honorable thing and lay off Brackett's lady in spite of how you
feel about her?"

Gage's mouth flopped clean open. Hearing a comment like that coming from
Cap was totally unexpected. The idea of Hank getting in on the usual dating shop
talk was almost too much to wrap his mind around. "Cap, I'm surprised at you."
Johnny blurted out. "Don't you trust me?"

"With my life? Sure. But when it comes to some pretty little thing walking down 
the street who's got someone else's ring on..." he shrugged his shoulders 
meaningfully.

Johnny immediately became even more crestfallen. "I suppose you're right.
Sometimes I wanna score so bad, I don't think about any possible negative
consequences before I go leaping. But you've got to believe me when I tell you
that I didn't start things with her today. She did. I was just minding my own business
when she came up to me and--" Gage immediately bit his lip in horror and he 
glanced up to where Chet was setting out the chili pot onto pot holders. Luckily, 
Kelly hadn't heard one syllable of that hot little confession.

Hank smiled and finally stood up from the crouch he had taken in front of Johnny. 
"Well, I think I'm beginning to understand things a little bit better now. Thanks 
for levelling with me about Dr. Cederstrom. But I had to pry, Johnny. As a friend,
not as your captain. Getting Brackett on a bad side would be pure h*ll for all
the rest of us."

"Boy do I know that.." Johnny moaned miserably. "He'd go to the chiefs
and cry departmental character foul so fast that--"

"Here. Eat." said Marco, passing off a heaping bowl of hot food to
Johnny where he still slouched on the couch, draped in dog. "My mama 
always says if your heart's aching over somebody you can't have, fill your 
stomach to the eyeballs. That way, you'll get so sleepy that you can't 
even think about 'em."

"Sounds like a plan..." Johnny said, picking up his spoon half-heartedly.
"I don't think I'll need much to do that. But...just....save out a couple of 
gallons of that for me, Marco, would ya? I think I'm gonna need it." he 
sighed sadly.

Marco patted him on the arm in sympathy. "Just say no to her." he said, 
rising to rejoin the gang at the table. "That's easy enough to do."

"Maybe for you.." Johnny muttered. "Your heart's not the one involved here..."
he said when Marco had finished wandering away. "Mine is."

----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
The gang was comfortably somnolent in chairs around the rec room when
the tones went off an hour later. Long ones. 

::An all station's call?:: Hank thought. ::I wonder what's up this time?:: Cap 
thought as he roused the rest of the guys into a faster get-on-the-ball vehicle 
break out pace.

----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Photo: Dwyer and Chet in the vehicle bay with a resuscitator stand.

Photo:  A loafing Henry, sprawled out on the couch.

Photo:  Stoker, spooning in chili, quickly.

Photo:  Cap, analytically eyeballing someone.

Photo:  Gage, grumpy, by a rainy window.

Photo:   The squad, with its lights on, in the garage.

Photo:   Station 51, rolling along a street at night, code 3.

*************************************************** 
From: Sam Iam <lafddispatcher@yahoo.com> 
Date: Thu Sep 28, 2006 4:02 pm 
Subject: The Seige.. 

##Battalion One,Truck 127, Stations 39, 36, 8, 2, 20 and 51. Tanker
accident with an unknown number of injuries, involving chemicals. 
Highway 101 northbound at the Santa Monica Freeway viaduct. 
Highway 101 northbound at the Santa Monica Freeway viaduct. 
Hazmat has been notified for a full response. Time out : 17:56.##

Cap shot out of his chair with alacrity along with the rest of the gang.
"Mike, the wind direction right now in that canyon's still matching what 
we have here in Carson. I just saw it on a weather broadcast."

"I saw that, too. It's from the southwest at 12 to 18. Got it." said Stoker as 
he jogged by Gil and Marco, who were checking the wall map for the 
fastest way to the scene while they searched for a large open spot that 
was going to remain safely in an upwind.

Lopez spoke up. "Cap, there's an empty car dealership immediately
to the south of that location with six hydrants at that intersection surrounding
the freeway. I know that because I shop at a supermarket there and
notice them all the time."

Hank paused with one leg inside the Ward's cab, leaning on the roof.
"Dwyer, Stoker, go to that lot first. And Chet, tell the chief where it's at while 
we're still on the way. He's gonna wanna know a good set up location from
which to stage all phases of Hazmat's and our rescue operations." Then 
Cap pulled on his jacket from the seat of the side front passenger cab. 
"Did L.A. say that things're involving an overpass, Stoker?" he asked as
he slipped it on and strapped his helmet onto his head.

"Yeah. I think Santa Monica's a new one that opened up this spring." 
Mike replied, starting the ignition.

Hank snatched up the loudspeaker as the garage door rolled open
and yelled out an order. ##Grab two extra scba bottles each from the
holding locker before you belt in. Gage, Dwyer..that goes for you, too. 
My guess is that we're gonna make every pound per square inch 
of breathing air count in the worst possible way.##

"O.k, Cap." they all said, hurrying a little faster.
 
Johnny, thinking ahead, grabbed on board a couple of three liter saline 
irrigation bags from the wall closet and laid them on the floor of the squad 
by his feet where he wouldn't step on them. At a surprised noise, he looked 
up to see Gil in the process of raising his eyebrows. Johnny mumbled. 
"Well,..a lot of burns are gonna happen, right? Especially if this turns out to 
be a mass casualty incident." he explained with a shrug.

Dwyer nodded grimly in agreement. "Hope you're wrong. Hope we 
all are, on worrying about this one." he said softly, gripping the driver's 
steering wheel in antsy palms.

The extra minute it took to gather the supplemental gear felt like an 
excruciatingly long time to everyone, including Henry, who started barking
from where he stood uncharacteristically in the kitchen doorway as if to tell 
them to hurry it up a whole bunch.

The firemen needed no encouragement from him at all.  

They were gone...

---------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Gil and Stoker made up for the slower start time by washing the road 
stretching ahead of them, with their trucks' airhorns more frequently than 
they usually did, to clear the way until it was free of traffic before their lights
even began stabbing through all the lamped intersections.

New tones sounded over the air waves, ones not heard very often that
signified an emergency update from L.A. headquarters. ##L.A. to all units, 
please hold silence for priority 10-90 traffic. All stations responding to the 
truck incident on Highway 101: Citizens' report a gas cloud of unknown type 
has been liberated from the scene and is drifting east north east over a 
residential neighborhood. Rampart General and Mercy Hospitals have 
been notified of an official MCI declaration as ordered by Battalion One. 
Helicopter Nine is en route with two doctors who're reporting to your scene 
for triage management. Battalion Fourteen, do you copy?##

##Battalion Fourteen, L.A. I copy. Battalions 9 and 12, roll out and report to
the main incident on Highway 101 and Santa Monica Freeway. Approach
from the south. Start delegating assignments as our stations report in. 
L.A. respond a third alarm assignment to that endangered neighborhood to 
effect immediate evacuations. At no time will you call L.A.P.D. to assist.## 
said the divisional chief.

::No kidding.:: grunted Hank as he impatiently drummed his gloves on the dash
as Stoker stepped up their pace to the accident site. ::They don't have air bottles
like we do. Let's just hope people have their TV sets on and heed the warning
to stay inside buildings until help arrives to break them out safely.::

The requested page for additional fire responses went out, involving L.A. 
City Fire and the nearby Escondido pumper stations. 

Hank paid no more attention to the main channel, instead perking his ears for
orders from his Battalion Chief, One, as he called for his station crew specifically
via HT. "Stoker, that's for us, hand me the dash mic. Engine 51 to Battalion One, 
go ahead." swallowed Cap, controlling the tension in his voice.

Battalion One replied with defining authority over their private band and crew specific
HTs. ##Engine 51 and Squad 51, survey the original accident scene from a safe distance. 
If there's no gas danger to the south, go in upwind and get out all the casualties you 
can in strict triage order. I've cleared that auto lot for a site of operations. That's
where I'm located and where our medical air support will be landing. Do not risk 
your men, even in full scba, should wind directions shift towards you. Pull 'em out 
a.s.a.p. Hazmat will be ready to enter then if you're forced to abandon and they'll 
eventually be taking over for you. They're ordered to decontaminate victims and 
deliver them to you and Station 36 as they're freed for all necessary treatment at 
Triage after that personnel switch-off is complete.Truck 127 and Stations 2 and 20 
will be maintaining water spray curtains and applying alcohol resistant foam to 
protect all of your extrication efforts until we determine the exact nature of that 
spreading gas cloud. Report all DOT MSDS details you discover. Is that clear, 
Station 51?##

Hank got a double horn tap from Squad 51. "Station 51, Battalion One, that's
affirmative. We're arriving now and we're positioning ourselves on the overpass 
for a good vantage point. Stand by for more information."

##Standing by.## answered gravel voiced Battalion One.

Stanley got out of the truck and met his men, who left both vehicles running and 
aimed at a clear escape route off the viaduct's other end. He saw that Gil and
Johnny had already taken a peek off the other side of the concrete railing.
"Whatcha got?!" he yelled at them when he could see nothing on his side.

Gage shifted the air bottle on his back and began playing with the straps on
his mask that he was carrying at the ready in his hands. "There's a front-end
loader on the freeway. Looks like it tipped and fell from up here off somebody's
passing trailer when a turn was taken too fast. That guy's gotta be long gone. 
There's two trucks down there. Neither one with significant damage. 
One is clearly labelled hydrochloric acid and that's the source of the leak. 
Not very big of a puddle's on the ground yet, maybe...six feet by twelve feet 
from a bent valve underneath the main barrel of the tanker.There's a driver 
trapped in the leaking truck. He's conscious. Towards the back of Truck One, 
there's an off-red car T-boned collided underneath his payload's tank.
Can't see if there's anyone inside of it or not."

"We'll check that out first." Hank promised. "What about the second truck?"

Gil cleared his throat in frustration. "The cab's empty. The driver's standing
on the embankment rubbing his face, probably walking wounded. There are 
no markings on his truck at all except for a DOT placard. It says, 'Corrosive. 
Class 8.'"

"Oh, wonderful.." Hank sighed. "It'd better not be an oxidizer. Ok, get down there and
see what you can do, gang. Put your masks on at the slightest sign of trouble. I'll
watch everyone's back as a safety. I'll only step in when I'm needed. Chet, 
Marco go help them handle those drivers and check out the car. Stoker, go in with 
a reel line, just on a light spray, from Engine 20. And for Pete's sake everybody,
be careful down there."

"We will.." Kelly waved encouragingly. 

Hank jogged down the grassy embankment close behind them, taking two of 
the plastic stokes from Squad 51's rear store compartment with him. ::Won't be 
able to use metal ones. They'll just melt in all this acid.:: he decided. He could 
see Johnny climbing the sideways cab of the HCL acid truck with Marco and he 
whistled loudly. They looked up. Cap gestured, indicating where he left the 
pair of stokes on the hill. Then he reported to Battalion what he had found.

##Only the HCL's leaking, Hank?## asked the chief.

"So far, yeah. From a bent valve still partially sealed. The other driver's 
milling about with a bunch of papers in his hand. They might be the bill of 
lading." he said into his handy talkie.

##Get him out of there and get him up to me. How many victims do you have?##

"Three. A male in the first truck, a female in the car, and then our walking truck 
driver. I'll read what he's got and evacuate my men out once the last victim's 
free."

##Make it fast, Hank. You know how volatile an acid spill gets in breezy conditions.##

"Don't worry, chief. We won't be the ones frying, sir, just the trucks when they go.
I'll be watching things better than just closely."

##So will I. Notify all the supporting engine crews via HT on everything you 
learn about the second truck the instant you discover it. Then tell me. Their 
safety's first.##

"Aye, chief. Gimme one minute!" Captain Stanley said. Then he turned to
his four working to free the two accident victims. "Gage, Gil.. I'm talking to this guy.
I'll be right back!" he said. "Meyers, cover me with problem spotting for them." he 
ordered a lieutenant off Engine 2. 

"Yes, sir.." said the younger man, taking a nearby place on high ground to watch
51's crew's rapid extrication work.

----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
Nearby, Marco and Johnny had pried the first truck's door open where the
intact cab lay on its side. Johnny began shouting. "Hey! You've got to get 
out of there now! It's not safe. Grab my hand. You're not hurt much at all." he 
shouted down at the conscious driver cowering inside the window cracked,
white painted truck cab.

"There's acid all over out there..." said the man fearfully, breathing hard.

"I know that. But it's not here yet. Gimme your hand at we'll haul you up 
outta there." said Johnny.

"I don't wanna go. I.. It's not safe!"

"Don't be stupid! What about the fumes getting in? Didn't you think about that?
They're gonna get you for sure if you don't get out now. I don't know about
you but I don't wanna die today. Come on, mister, reach for me!" Johnny 
ordered, keeping an eye on Kelly and Gil crouched by someone alive in 
the crushed dark red car. A woman's arm flopped out of the open door when 
they pulled it away from her and he was glad to see it moving some fingers.

The terrified trucker grunted and finally grabbed hold of Gage's glove. Johnny
lifted and got the man hefted up part way. Then Marco hauled on the dazed 
man's pants belt to finish the job. 

"Ok... anything broken in your legs? Can you walk?" Gage asked the man as 
Lopez jumped down to intercept a pass-off from Johnny to get the man off 
the truck.

"No,..uh, yeah.. My foot. The left one. I can't feel it.." stammered the driver.

"Ok, Marco, help him down. Support his left side. It'll take no weight."
Gage told Lopez.

The fireman nodded, then he coughed quickly before he could
say anything. He whipped his flowing air mask up fast in order to take 
a breath from it. "Gage, wind's shifting!" he yelled from under its 
protective glass.

Johnny nodded, pulling some air off his own faceplate. Then he offered it 
to the coughing driver as the two firemen arm support walked him over 
to a newly geared up Meyers and the waiting orange stokes.
"Gil, get the woman out now!" Gage shouted to his new partner. 
"The wind's changing!"

Chet's head looked up in momentary terror and Johnny saw it disappear 
behind scba gear after a short shout. "We're almost through, Johnny!" 
Kelly promised.

Crouching low, Gil spoke to the woman. "Ma'am. Can you hear me? 
This is going to hurt alot. But we're in danger. We all have to leave 
now. Including you." he told the face bloodied girl. 

"Ok..ok..*choke*.. I..." she gagged. "Fumes!" she coughed. "Can't..br--"

Dwyer gave her his mask. "Take your breaths from this. Easy hon...
No, you keep it. We'll share our air as we go!" he said, indicating himself 
and Kelly. Holding his breath after speaking, he took Chet's mask when 
it was instantly handed to him and used it aggressively to clear his head.

Seconds later, Chet and Gil dragged the girl out of the car as carefully 
as they could. Then they started running with her in a two man arm carry. 

Other firemen met them, including Cap, who shoved the trucking papers 
back at the driver without reading them. The others holding the water 
curtain shifted one side of its arch until it rained liberally over 51's planned 
escape route.

Hank started yelling. "Get those water cannons to unmanned settings 
right now. Then pull yourselves back! Everybody hear me? Everyone
get back now!" he told them. 

The acid fumes fighting firemen in the hot zone got out in seconds.

Panting, but safely on the far side of the bridge, Vince took custody of the 
uninjured driver. "What's your cargo?..Come on and tell me. 
Those men are risking their lives down there and I'm sure you don't
wanna get anyone killed by whatever it is you're carrying."

"Uh,, I don't know, mister. I was just filling in for the r-regular guy." said
the balding man with a fake smile and stutter.

"That's a hefty fine. I hope your memory starts improving real fast.."
said Howard, visually making sure the rescue teams were retreating 
on the heels of Hank's abandon everything command.

"I'm tryin' to remember.. I'm tryin' real hard. But I must in be shock or 
something. Yeah, that's it.." he lied, taking a seat on the concrete
guard railing near the sidewalk.

Vince scowled. Severely. He could see that the truck driver didn't 
have a single solitary scratch on him. "I'm giving you one more chance
to get honest with me. What's your cargo?"

--------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Cap was leaning over, his own mask tightly over his face after he had
made sure the last of his team was up the embankment. "How bad 
and what kind of an exposure did our victims get?" he asked Gage 
while all of them rested.

"Just some HCL vapors on two of them. No direct contact." panted Johnny, 
sucking hard off the air supply flowing into his scba mask. He glanced
at his hands for signs of burns after pulling off and abandoning his gloves.
"The rest of us .....seem to be fine." he gasped tiredly, pulling a new pair
of work gloves out of his jacket's pocket.

"All right. Load her into another flotation stokes and then we'll carry her ov--
Wait a minute.." Hank said frowning, looking over the edge of the bridge's 
cement railing. "There's a new puddle forming under the second truck."
he told them. "Whatever it is, it's a clear liquid." Frowning, he pulled 
a penny out of his pocket and gave it a hefty toss down to the accident 
site. It bounced a couple of times before landing neatly into the new 
pool of slowly spreading, non-fogging, chemical. 

A ring of turquoise immediate formed around it and bubbles of brown
rose into the air as the coin boiled and began dissolving. Hank's eyes 
widened and he lifted the walkie talkie, getting it to his mouth as fast 
as possible. "Engine 51 to Battalion One. There's aqua fortis in truck 
two. I repeat. Fuming nitric!"

##I read you, Engine 51. Get everybody clear immediately...##

Hank began running. "Go.. go!.. Guys, get the vehicles off the bridge
now! Dwyer, Chet ! Put her on top of the engine. The second truck's 
gonna blow up bigger than we thought in a minute or less!"

Gil, Johnny, Vince and the others scattered like chickens, picking either
Squad 51 or the Ward engine in which to make their escape.

Down below, the hose support crews were already gone, having left
behind the automatic water cannons.

Stoker was waiting for a fist's thump on top of the engine cab that would 
tell him the girl was loaded safely on the engine's hose bed when he saw 
it. "Cap... the second tanker's changing color. The top valve just 
blew open. See it?" he pointed quietly, hair trigger tense.

"Yes, I do, Mike. Cr*p..Looks like it's gonna be sooner rather than--" he 
ansed. He got on his HT. "Gil...tell me you guys are almost ready
up there. I'm giving you five seconds tops and no more!"

##Now, Cap, now! She's set! We're set. Go, Stoker!## said Dwyer as 
he and Marco crouched over the woman's stokes in their masks to make 
sure the stretcher didn't shift as the Ward lurched into motion. Sirens 
screaming, Engine 51 and Squad 51 took their hastily crammed in 
passengers rapidly off and headed away from the overpass.

The engine's rear bumper was just clear of the gap looking down over the truck
accident site when a colossal explosion ripped the air, sending an acrid
white, brown and yellow cloud of ejected nitric acid, nitrogen dioxide and hydrogen 
gas mushrooming into the air. It immediately coursed east along the wind's new
directional path and away from where fire companies were evacuating the 
first previously-thought-to-be jeopardized neighborhood. 

Captain Stanley radioed out the frightening new development.
"Engine 51 to Battalion One. Explosive decomposition!  New cloud's drifting 
directly east.  All initial rescue crews are clear of the hot zone. I repeat all 
crews are safe, present and accounted for and off the immediate scene." Hank 
reported. "My station's got three conscious victims inside of and on our vehicles. 
Our ETA to Triage is in less than two."

##Hazmat's standing by for them, Hank. As soon as your station's showered 
clean and declared available once more, get your men into the new 
neighborhood in full scba and start your warnings. Evacuate all potential 
life threatened populations out of the area. That includes all homes and 
businesses. Choppers are beginning the new announcements now from 
the air. Get everybody clear at least a mile and a half upwind. First priority, 
there's a school on Maxwell Ave. They're in session. Use your authority to 
use their buses and drivers as evacuation vehicles. It'll be faster than 
waiting for custody and transportation vans from the P.D.##

"10-4, Battalion.  Get my personnel and my trucks decontaminated, 
and then get involved in a response to evacuate Maxwell Elementary." 
Stanley repeated. "Copy that."

##Good luck, Hank. Be careful.##

"We will, chief. Engine 51 out."

--------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
Station 51 had just pulled up on Maxwell Avenue with both of their sets of sirens 
wailing when a panic began full blown on the school's playground. Young 
children began screaming in pain and running for the school's open doors. 

Just as suddenly, the brownish acid cloud lifted and spun away.

Seconds later, one little girl fell where she was and didn't move.

"Vapors, Cap!" Gage yelled into his radio.

##Get out there!## reacted Stanley, in high fear for those kids.

Frantic, Gage and Dwyer shot out of the parked squad and they
ran fast, motioning for the rest of the children escaping the drifting acid
cloud to keep going. "Close the doors completely shut after yourselves!" 
Johnny warned, shouting loudly through his air mask so that he was heard.

Stoker, Kelly, Marco and Cap split up into pairs to begin closing every open
window and door they could find to slow the fumes' penetration into the 
brick building.

Gil and Johnny ran to the little girl's side and rolled her over, pulling the 
poncho that had covered her face up when she fell, away from her head.

He gasped suddenly, looking away.... "She's...."

Gil confirmed the finding. "...dead. I know." he said, checking for the
pulse that he knew was going to be absent from her neck. "Looks like 
acid burns caught her in the face."

"And most likely in her lungs, too. Leave her. Let's go help save the others.." 
said Johnny grimly. He rose after covering the tiny body up in the poncho. 
He left a reflective fatality marker on top of her for recovery crews to find later.

Dwyer and Gage ran for the school's back side, seeking a way in. They
found one and hurried inside."Cap.." he reported in on the radio."One 
Code F in the yard. Are you guys in here yet?"

##Yes, we are. Help us get them all into the gymnasium. It's away from the vents
connecting the rest of the school with the indoor swimming pool.##

Gage quailed. ::Oh, sh*t, that's right. Nitric fumes'll make cyanide gas
in contact with any form of pool chemicals.:: he thought desperately. 
"We're on our way. We'll sweep the library for stragglers."

##Yes. Do that. The air's ok in here.## reported Cap.
Over the frequency, Johnny could hear sounds of crying, panicking
children and adults in the background where they hurried across the
floor of the gym, echoing in confusion behind Cap's voice. ##I've notified 
the chief of our predicament. Whatever you do, save what's left of your air
while you two find a way to get to us safely. Avoid any open windows.
The cloud's sunk back down around the school again.##
 
---------------------------------------------------------

Photos: None. 

**************************************************
From: Cassidy Meyers <killashandraRey@hotmail.com> 
Date: Sat Sep 30, 2006 1:31 am 
Subject: Lock In... 

Cap whirled when Gage and Gil burst through a side gym door
and slammed it shut behind them. It startled many frightened
children sitting on the gym floor until a couple of teachers 
calmed them down.

Gil shouted. "Cap, nobody's left out there. Library's deserted."

"Good." Hank started forward. "I moved everybody to the 
center of the gymnasium. Marco, string up a line from that emergency
fire hose in the wall and charge it. Some of these playground kids 
are probably acid burned and don't even know it yet."

Gage gaped in surprise. "Cap, you guys brought in all our gear.."

"We sure as h*ll did. Brought in the engine's resuscitator, too.
And your irrigation bags from the squad. Get to work. 
We're gonna have to dike up all the run-off when we start 
washing down the worst exposed kids. Use those sandbags 
over there that I see under the bleachers. We'll spray all the
stuff right into that janitor's closet. There's a large drain in there.
Stoker, look for any hazards outside the gym that might react to
the fumes that are gonna get into the hallways. Especially check out
the chemistry lab. Last thing we want is a fire spontaneously
erupting on top of the rest of all this mess. Then get back in here
and help Gil and Johnny with any medical care." he said, sweeping
his gloved hand in a gesture over the crowded gym of sniffling, 
scared kids and quietly whispering adults.

Stanley got on his radio. "Engine 51 to Battalion One. Here's
our update. The gym is secure from outside air and we're safe
for the moment. But we'll need an immediate Hazmat reconnaissance
to neutralize any unseen chemical threats surrounding us. A 
couple of the teachers say there's a chemistry lab nearby full of 
Class One reactants that the students were working with today."

##I copy that, 51. Let me know the number of injuries and the total
head count of minors and adults who are with you when you can. 
I've two doctors from Rampart suiting up and they'll be joining you 
soon to help with your situation directly.They're Doctors Brackett and 
Cederstrom from Rampart Hospital.##

"10-4. Have a Hazmat pair bring them through the gym's south fire door. 
That stairwell's not yet flooded with fumes."

##I'll tell them, Hank.## said the chief. ##Give us five minutes
minimum to get them in there to you.##

Hank pushed down his HT antennae with a harried frown. He looked
up when Gage began to speak to the gym at large as he and Dwyer
stripped out of their air bottles and turnouts to look less threatening.

"Listen up kids.. We're just firemen from the Los Angeles County Fire
Department. Let me fill you in on what's happening outside. Now I'm going
to be completely honest with you. There's a pair of chemical trucks 
burning on the freeway upwind and that's what's made us lock all of you 
inside the gym here right now. We needed to get away from some bad
smoke. But we're nice and safe and air tight so don't worry. Stay calm. 
Now next question is for anyone who was just playing at recess when you 
saw our firetrucks pull up to the school. Is there anyone who feels like 
they're getting sunburned right now?" he asked the cluster of frightened 
children seated on the floor in front of him.
"Teachers, if you think you have any kids who do, raise your hands 
and we'll check them out immediately. That vapor can be dangerous
even though they're out of it. Kids, don't panic. The worst we'll do to
ya is get you wet, by giving you a free bath by fire hose. Won't hurt a bit,
I promise. Although ...we may get ya a little cold and make your teeth start
chattering." he grinned.

A bubbling murmur of faint giggles rose from the various groups
of gathered students until a single teacher's hand lifted urgently.
"My kids were outside. Please, I have a few not acting normally."

"Which ones?" Gage asked, crouching near the windbreaker jacketed
teacher. "Here, gimme your outer coat, ma'am. It's probably been 
contaminated by the fumes." he said, reaching out for it. "Check 
yourself over real good for skin problems. Let me know if you find any 
redness, itching, or swelling. If you do, let me or my partner know right 
away and we'll start washing you down to stop the exposure."

Taking the coat from the woman with his jacket halligan used as a stick,
he tossed it into the closet where the water drain was located. 

Gil and Gage began examining the knot of children who had been
outside. They began stripping them down to their regular clothes,
removing shoes and anything else that was clearly an outer layer. 
Marco washed these away from the paramedics with the charged 
hose and he pushed them into the closet space vigorously.

Some of the children nearby laughed in spite of their fear at
the sight of seeing the shiny polished wooden floor getting soaked
in such a strange way. He took advantage of that. "Say, who'd like 
to help my fire captain here build a sand castle of sand bags? We need 
a fort around that closet door to hold all the water and all the things I'm 
pushing into it. Who wants to help him?" he asked.
A lot of the older kids volunteered by raising their hands. 
"Ok, great. Listen to your gym coaches first. I've already told them how 
to build what we need. Go on, it's ok, go ahead. This fort's gonna help 
the others who are getting set to take their water baths." Lopez explained.

Gil quickly identified two children in the playground bunch who
were just starting to wheeze. "Johnny, this little boy in light blue's
first. Can you get him on some O2?"

"Yeah. I've got a little girl in green doing the same thing. Chet, can
you get her started on the engine's tank? Be sure to raise her head 
up."

"Ok, Johnny." Kelly said, easing the child's upper body into his
lap. "Hi there, little lady. My name's Chet. My legs are gonna be
your pillow for a while, is that ok? Don't worry. Your teacher's
gonna stay right here holding your hand while I put this oxygen 
mask on your face so you can breathe in and out a little better.
Guess you earned yourself one of the first hose showers, didn't 
you?"

The gasping girl nodded sleepily, tears leaking from her acid
reddened eyes. "Uh, huh..."

"I'll get you dried off real fast so you don't get too cold. I promise."
he said to her. "I got a blanket with your name on it waiting right
here next to us, ok? It's real warm. And look,..it's got teddy bears
on it." he said, holding it up.

The little girl laughed, but then she coughed liquidly. Chet
glanced over to where the first little boy was getting scoured
under the hose spray. "Johnny.. she sounds wet."

"All right. We'll have Brackett on the line in a minute. Help her
on her inspirations if she needs it. This boy's got our hands full. 
He's going out on us." Gage told him quickly.

Soon the male child was stretched out onto the floor again amid
the squad's opened medical gear. Gil put one of the teachers
to work irrigating the boy's acid burns with a running I.V. line
from one of the saline bags. "Don't touch the water that touches
him. Let Marco here wash it away for you." Dwyer instructed.

"Ok.. uh,.. I understand." said the worried coach.

Gage and Gil fell deep into their assessments of the two 
critical, fumes exposed children once the little girl had her
rapid decontamination completed.

----------------------------------------------------------------------------

Photo:  A fire hose fanned coil folded on wall hooks.

Photo:  Teachers and kids walking by a fire engine in a hurry.

Photo:  Close up of gym listening kids.

Photo:   Gage near a distressed boy.

Photo:  Chet caring for a downed girl child with oxygen.

Photo:  Cap looking on, worried, in close up.

**************************************************
From: 'patti keiper' <pattik1@hotmail.com>
Date:  September 30, 2006. 16:39:07 CST.
Subject: Caught

"Johnny?! Gil?!" came a loud, very welcome voice. It was Dr. 
Brackett, peeling out of a Hazmat suit at the entrance to the 
school gymnasium. 

Dr. Carrie Cederstrom followed him in with a very laden trauma 
and surgical pack as she peeled it out of its protective covering.

"Over here! These two first!" yelled Dwyer from the circle of
firemen leaning over the hose water soaked pair of children. 

Kel Brackett saw that Hank Stanley had joined Kelly in keeping 
the little girl ventilating well.

"What do you have?" Kel snapped out quickly, kneeling in between 
both kids. 

"Nitric acid byproducts exposure, gaseous form. Both were in breathing 
contact with a concentrated cloud for a minute or so." replied Captain 
Stanley, thinking hard as he remembered the first moments that he had 
witnessed storming onto the playground scene. "The fumes were bad 
enough to kill people, doc."

"Even glancingly, less than a minute's long enough to cause some real 
problems." said Cederstrom. "How about any of the rest of these children?" 
Carrie asked, glancing around at the teachers and elementary school 
students watching them quietly from the other side of the gym.

"They're fine so far." Gage answered, looking up from the stethoscope
that he had placed over the little boy's ribcage. "Doc, the girl's in a lot of pain.
The boy's got acute signs of PE and wheezing developing that's equally 
distinct on both sides. She has some, too, but it's to a lesser degree."

"How so?"

"Hers isn't audible in the lower fields."

Kel ran over his fast triaging list. "Ok, how about these burns?"

"We're seeing regions of eschar, on their faces, heads and hands in areas 
that were air exposed and out of their clothing." Gil answered. 

"Tissue dessication already?" Carrie sighed sadly. "All right. We'll get these
two airway secured first. Then, captain, please continue their decontamination
washing." she told Hank. "As for the rest of you.." she addressed the others
of Station 51. "Be vigilant for signs of laryngeal edema developing on anyone 
else here. If you find someone who can't or is having trouble talking, bring them 
to us immediately. They'll need inhalant counteractives."

Brackett nodded at Carrie in agreement, drawing out a pediatric endotrachael 
tube and laryngoscope from his jump bag, sized for the little boy. "Johnny, Gil.. 
treat their acid burns as thermal burns. Use non-adherent gauze and wrapping 
to cover them up after you finish scrubbing off all the chemicals. Then give me
some vital sig---"

"Doc,.. she's obstructing on me.." said Chet Kelly, glancing up quickly from 
where he was lightly demand valve triggering breaths into the little girl.

"Carrie..Get over there..." Brackett ordered bruskly."If you can't get a tube down.."

"I know." Cederstrom said urgently. "I've got a cricothyroidotomy kit already laid 
out." she told him. "Fireman, try repositioning her head." Carrie instructed
when the child began to struggle in a panic.

Chet retilted carefully, trying to ignore her weakily flailing arms and legs.  
He tried actively to force oxygen into her lungs with a new technique, using
a rapidly placed ambu, with Cap helping him, but.."It's not working, doc. Not 
at all." said Kelly as the little girl finally passed out from anoxia. The child's 
features started turning dusky as all of her breathing attempts ceased. 
"She swelling up too much. Now, I've got no chest rise whatsoever."

"No chance endotracheally now. All right. I'm going in for that cric." Cederstrom
informed them. "Prep her neck, Mr. Dwyer." Carrie said, glancing at Gil's name 
tag. 

Gil flew, reaching for the surgical bag the doctors had brought with them.

Just a betadine splash later, the scalpel and trailing narrow needle guide 
gripped deftly in Carrie's gloved hands, sliced down...

------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
Outside in the hallway, the roving Hazmat crew startled. They found a 
fifty gallon metallic barrel full of turpentine that had been in the 
process of being delivered by a UPS man for the art department. 

Working swiftly, the team took great care in removing the container from 
the school.  

They set it out into the open where they used water spray and fog to keep 
it cooled down.They made sure they didn't get any water inside the drum 
where the nitric acid fumes that were still drifting through the neighborhood 
would be able to exothermically react to it.  The potential for a large explosion, 
was averted. 

But the swimming pool store room wasn't so fortunate. It ignited spontaneously 
when acid gas found a roll of aluminum foil and the new fire, spreading quickly 
to the roof through the ventilations shafts, created another problem for the fully 
suited up Haz mat crews to handle when they shifted gears to aggressively
protect all the people still trapped inside the school's gym.

Hank and the other firefighters looked up at the sound of a muffled explosion
breaking out from somewhere inside the school.

Kids began to quietly panic and mill about numbly at the noise.

Captain Stanley immediately soothed them. "It's all right, kids. It's all right! 
That isn't anywhere near us!" Then he got on his HT with the Hazmat crews and 
Battalion and got a full report from the source itself.

------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
Gil and Johnny had finished stringing up I.V. lines over the two 
stabilized children now lying in plastic stokes under burn sheets that were 
covering them to keep them warm and out of uncompensated shock.

Both were breathing and being closely monitored by new attending 
firefighters while everyone waited for the all clear signal from Hazmat 
that things were safe enough outside to begin their evacuation of the 
school.

Carrie was cleaning up in a bowl of antiseptic.

"That was fine work, Doctor Cederstrom.." Kel complimented her.

"I should say the same thing to you, Doctor Brackett.." she teased.
Then she cast a worried eye on her young patient. "Did I ever tell
you how much I hate chemical induced injuries?"

"You have. Frequently." Kel said, giving her a squeezing hug in congratulation.

"Hmm..That's so nice." she crooned, pulling away affectionately. "Wow," she
said, stepping back. "Blue becomes you." she goggled as she admired the 
color of the triage jumpsuit Kel was wearing. "I like the way it brings out
the color of your eyes."

"Do I have to become a surgeon then, to keep on wearing it so I won't lose 
you?" he teased.

"Fat chance of that happening." She didn't elaborate on which aspect of the
question she was commenting on. "Speaking of which, shouldn't Roy DeSoto 
be fully awake now following his ear surgery? It's been six hours since." 
Carrie wondered.

Kel looked at his watch as he put away the biophone that he had used to order
tests through Dixie that he wanted for the kids that Carrie and he had airway 
saved for when they finally flew into Rampart. "He is. Dixie said so. His bilateral 
tympanoplasties finally decided to quiet down without a hitch. That odd, 
new vertigo of his has gone away. Tell everybody with Station 51 that Roy's 
completely comfortable now and that he's been absolutely guaranteed by
his ENT to make a normal, and very fast recovery."

"I'll go tell them now. They need a stress reliever. And so do I." she smirked.

-----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
McCall met the two doctors' chopper when it finally arrived at the hospital
along with their two tiny patients. "Kel, Radiology's ready to get those
chest and upright abdominal films as soon as you're inside. And yes,
I've ordered the labs to get their complete blood counts; EKG;  electrolytes;  
glucose; liver and renal functions; and type and cross-matches for whole fresh 
plasma right when you four wheel them into Treatment Two.." she said.

"You're a miracle worker.." Kel smiled, affectionately grasping McCall's
elbow as the nurse hurried back out of the rotor wash zone along
with everyone else.

"Careful, Kel. I may start believing that."

"Too late. You're pretty full of yourself already." Cederstrom chuckled.

"It serves its purpose." McCall shrugged. "Long hours with short pay... 
That's a pretty tough thing to survive with around here. Who knows? 
Maybe being inwardly and outwardly conceited keeps me cool." she
laughed, winking at Carrie with amusement.

"I'll vouch for that." Kel said. "Crustiness has always served me well."

Dixie just rolled her eyes as she brushed the hair away that was getting 
sharply helicopter blown into her face. "Ughhh..Doctors..." she chided in 
mock sarcasm. Then she gestured to the orderlies that she could see 
coming from the hospital to get them to step things up a little.

Gil and Gage quickly helped the hospital men steer their patients' 
stretchers into Emergency as fast as they could go.

----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

It was several weeks later.

A fully healed Roy, Gage, and Dixie were relaxing in the nurse's
lounge over hard won cups of coffee during a break in yet another
hectic day of rescues.

Dixie blew air over her mug to cool it. "So,.. how do you really 
feel about Carrie Cederstrom..." she baited.

Johnny practically spat out a mouthful of coffee in shock and surprise.

Roy deftly handed his partner a napkin from the dispenser so he could
clean up his face.

Gage sputtered in surprise. "Shouldn't I be asking you the same thing?"
he challenged McCall.

"Well, I don't see why not. Turnabout's fair play." she admitted.
Then she thought over things carefully. "She's good for Kel. And what's good
for Kel, is good for me. I had my shot at him... and... if it means I have to bow
out gracefully, then so be it. They both deserve to be happy."

"Well are YOU?" Johnny asked, boldly.

Roy nudged Johnny in the ribs for his insensitive jab.

"Yes, and no. I'd be inhuman if I said I never wondered about what 
could have been between him and I if things ever got different."

"I guess.." Gage said, uncertain.

"So how about you?" Dixie fired right back.

"How about me what?" Johnny looked at McCall in confusion.

"Are YOU happy about how you're handling how you feel about Carrie 
Cederstrom?"

"Well, I uh.. Should I even be concerned about that? I mean-" Johnny 
shrugged nervously, rubbing his face in self consciousness.

"Yes."
  "Yes." said both Roy and Dixie at the same time in exactly the 
same tone of voice. Nurse and paramedic looked at each other and 
chuckled in companionable irony.

Then Dixie added more. "You did give her a ride home to Kel's the 
other night after taking her out for coffee."

"You did what?!" DeSoto's mouth flopped completely open. "Johnny, 
that's hedging the bet a whole lot, you know that? Do you really wanna
win one over Gil that badly that you're resorting to subterfuge?"

"I never.. I didn't.... I...wasn't ...t- taking Carrie out on a date. I was...
thanking her for saving your hearing, pal." he finished lamely. "Dr. 
Brackett said that he trusts me absolutely with his chick. Heh." he sighed, 
leaning back into his chair. He immediately sat back forward again, 
getting mad. "Is this the thanks I get for showing your new
trauma doctor a little bit in the appreciation department?"

"Hey, what about me? Who do you think was holding the puke basin under your
partner's chin when he was still upchucking his guts out after his anesthetic?"

Johnny immediately began to look uncomfortable, as if he were 
about to become sick himself. 

"Were you there at all, Johnny?" Roy wanted to know.

"Well, I  uh.. No.. I.. I.. I was working." Gage said defensively. Somehow, 
he didn't see the smirk of anticipated set up beginning to spread over 
Roy's face where DeSoto sprawled next to him on the couch.

"So was I." Dixie glared right back through tight lips. "So when's my date of 
appreciation for a night on the town with you gonna be, huh? Don't you 
find me attractive?"

Gage went completely speechless at that one and he blushed five 
shades of red that was clearly visible even through Johnny's natural 
skin tones. Roy didn't miss the telltale fidget of his fingers on the 
table top and neither did Dixie.

Johnny shot up out of his chair swiftly and he began backing away 
to the door."Uh,.. excuse me, both, would ya? I think I.. drank a little 
too much coffee..Nature's calling." And he bolted from the lounge 
like a jack rabbit out of a smoked out hole.

DeSoto blinked matter of factly and took in another sip of his 
coffee. "Boy do I know that one to be true.." he mumbled.

Dixie smacked her hand on the table in front of him derisively to 
get his attention."A bet's a bet. You owe me five bucks, Roy. It 
sure looks like he does." she said with an amused chuckle and 
a very significant emphasis.

Roy took a deep breath, lowering his eyes, thinking, the smile 
still on his face. "You know, Dix.. I'm not so sure I just saw what 
you think you've just seen."

McCall leaned in on Roy, real close. "Come on, quit kidding. I'm 
a very mature woman. You can't fool me with any such line. 
Chet Kelly told me all about what to look for on him." She 
tweeked DeSoto on the nose with a long fingernail.  "Do you know 
what Chet told me that gave him away?"

"No.. what?" Roy said meeting her eyes with trepidation.

"He told me,..'The hands never lie.' So pay up if you know what's 
good for you, Roy. Or I may get ugly." Dixie promised.

"Not in a million years." he said, not meaning the money at all.

Slowly then, with good natured resignation, Roy reached for his 
wallet.


FIN

Season Five Episode Thirty Seven
Primary Complaint

                                 End Credits --  Episode Thirty Seven (Fifth Season)

                                                §§  Primary Complaint §§
  
                         :)  This episode is dedicated to Hazmat teams across the   :)
                              globe. The work they do is courageous, saving lives 
                         :)   whenever human error falls into play.                                 :)    
 

The Story Unfolds...

Season Five, Episode Thirty Eight..
 
 §§    A.M.A.   §§
 
Debut Launch: October 1st, 2006. 
 
******************************************************************
From: E!lf <eexclamationmarklf@yahoo.com>
Subject: The Big Tent
Date: Mon Oct 9, 2006 5:39 pm 


 At Fire Station 51 in Carson, California, Captain Hank Stanley 
was just finishing up morning roll call.  He nodded towards the two 
paramedics who stood to one end of the line as he addressed his 
engine crew.
 
"I'm sure you all remember Billy from the time he spent here during his 
field training, and of course you all know Chuck.  They're going to be 
with us for the next two weeks while Gage and DeSoto are . . . "  he 
paused, trying hard to bite back a grin and maintain his professional 
demeanor, "occupied elsewhere."
 
Mike Stoker and Marco Lopez smirked and Chet Kelly snickered.
 
"I'm sure," Cap said, glaring at Chet, "that you will all do your best to 
make them feel welcome, and to leave them with an image of 51 that 
reflects our professionalism and maturity.  Right?"
 
The men nodded and Cap allowed himself a smile.  "Good.  And finally, 
I'm pleased to inform you that the fire department has provided us with 
tickets to tomorrow night's performance.  We have two tickets apiece, 
so feel free to bring a guest.  I thought it might be nice if we meet ahead 
of time and go in a group.  I'm sure that Roy and Johnny will appreciate 
our support in this," he struggled for a word, "worthwhile endeavor.  Any 
questions?"
 
Chet stepped forward and raised his hand, his face studiously serious.
 
Cap grimaced.  "Yes, Kelly?"
 
"Just one question, Captain.  When we get to the circus . . . how will we 
know which clowns are ours?"

------------------------------------------------------------------------------- 

The Samson Brothers' Circus Extravaganza had pitched their tents and 
parked their cages on the grass at the center of the Gold Rush Arena.  
Roy DeSoto and John Gage, dressed in their regular working uniforms, 
stood just inside the rear entrance of the main tent and watched the crowd 
filing in for the first matinee performance.  Roy had been drinking a soda 
and was now down to crunching the ice left in the cup.  Johnny stood just 
behind him, arms crossed, one eyebrow raised and a thoughtful frown 
on his face.
 
"Roy, I want you to tell me something.  Explain to me again why it's a 
good idea for us to do this."
 
Roy gave his partner a long sideways look through slitted eyes.  "Well," 
he said finally, "it's a good idea because it's going to help inform people 
that our services are available, and in a way that they'll remember.  
And it's a good idea because it's going to be good public relations for 
the fire department.  And it's a good idea because for every performance 
we attend the circus is going to donate a portion of the proceeds to the 
paramedic program for training and equipment.  That's why.  Or at least, 
that's what I was told."
 
Johnny shook his head.  "No, no.  You're not understanding me.  Those 
are all reasons why it's a good idea to do this.  I want you to explain to me 
why it's a good idea for US to do this."
 
Roy took a minute to chew on his ice some more.  "Actually, Junior, I'm 
still a little foggy on that one myself.  I think, though, that it might have 
something to do with the fact that it was YOUR idea!"
 
"You could've talked me out of it."
 
"I was home with the flu!  By the time I came back you'd written the chief!"
 
"Right."  Johnny nodded, satisfied.  "So we agree that it was your fault then."
 
Before Roy could defend himself the lights in the tent dimmed and the 
ringmaster ran out into the center ring.  "Ladies and gentlemen!  Children 
of all ages!  The Samson Brothers' Circus Extravaganza is pleased and 
proud to welcome the people of Los Angeles County!"
 
As the ringmaster swung into his spiel the two paramedics edged apart to 
allow a small dark-haired woman in a spangled red leotard to slip between 
them.  Johnny watched her with appreciative eyes.  She caught the look 
and gave him a cagey smile.
 
"You couldn't catch me, Firefly!"
 
"Oh, yeah?  Why don't you try falling for me and see?"
 
"Is that offer open to all the females in the company?"  The two men 
turned at the new voice and Johnny found himself smiling into the face 
of a bearded fat woman.  Roy choked on an ice cube and Johnny took 
a couple of careful steps back and made a production of pounding on Roy's 
back.
 
"'Scuse me a second, here.  I just gotta save my partner.  Swallowed 
an ice cube.  It was nice to meet you."
 
The bearded lady laughed at him and left and both men breathed a 
sigh of relief.
 
"You can stop hitting me now," Roy said.  "I can breathe again."
 
"Yeah, so can I."
 
The stage manager tapped them each on the shoulder.  "Pay attention 
fellows.  You're just about up."
 
They returned their attention to the ringmaster and found that he was talking 
about them. "During our stay in L.A. County this year we are pleased to have 
with us two very special guests.  From Fire Station 51 in Carson, California, I 
give you Firefighter/Paramedics Roy DeSoto and John Gage!"  The 
crowd burst into applause and Roy and Johnny trotted out and stood 
one on either side of the ringmaster, as they had been instructed.  

The ringmaster passed the microphone over to Roy and DeSoto addressed the 
crowd. "Less than two years ago Los Angeles County made history when our 
lawmakers passed the Wedsworth-Townsend Act, creating the first paramedic 
program in the nation.  Now, for those of you who don't know, a paramedic is 
a rescue fireman who has received special training to administer emergency 
first aid in the field.  Since the program's inception it has grown by leaps and 
bounds, but we are still finding a lot of people who don't know what we're 
doing, or who don't understand the services we have to offer the community."  
He handed the mike over to Johnny and his partner picked up where he left off.
 
"My partner and I are here today to spread the word to you, and to ask you 
to spread the word to your family and friends, that if you are in trouble, the 
fire department will be there for you.  There doesn't have to be a fire.  If you 
are in a car accident, we will be there.  If you think you're having a heart attack, 
we'll be there.  If you're choking on a piece of food, or you get struck by 
lightning, or you're going into labor and you can't get to a hospital, we'll be 
there.  You only have to remember who to call."
 
Johnny gave the microphone back to the ringmaster, thankful that he'd 
made it through his portion of the speech.
 
The ringmaster turned as he talked, taking in the whole crowd and gesturing 
widely.  "Would you like to see these young men in action?" he asked.  The 
crowd roared.  "Well, you're in luck!  At some point during this performance we 
will set up a simulated emergency and call on our daring young friends here to 
perform a rescue.  Now, they don't have any idea what we're planning, so what 
you're going to see will be completely unrehearsed!  How does that sound?"
 
The crowd roared again.  Johnny grinned widely and waved.  Roy ducked his 
head and smiled shyly.
 
"So!"  The ringmaster moved on, "a big round of applause for our valiant firemen!  
And now, if you'll direct your attention to the first ring . . . ."

--------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Photos: None. 


**************************************************
From: E!lf <eexclamationmarklf@yahoo.com>
Date: Wed Oct 11, 2006 12:02 pm 
Subject: Animal Acts

In the early afternoon, the men of 51 were sitting around talking in 
the rec room, when the tones sent them scrambling for their vehicles.  
Cap made it to the radio alcove and stood ready to reply.
 
##Station 51. Cat in tree. Shady Valley Park at the Bleeker Street 
entrance.  Shady Valley Park at the Bleeker Street entrance.
Time out 14:32.##
 
Cap blinked and looked around, seeing his own disbelief mirrored on 
the faces of his men.  He glared up at the loudspeaker as if it could 
carry his puzzled expression back to L.A. for him.  Since he knew 
it couldn't, he also spoke. "L.A., confirm please.  Cat in tree?"
 
##Affirmative, 51.  The L.A. Sheriff's Department called it in.##
 
Cap sighed and shrugged.  "Station 51, 10-4.  KMG 365."
 
Four minutes later, the engine and squad turned into the Beeker Street 
park entrance and rolled to a stop near a large crowd that had gathered 
and was staring towards a large tree at the edge of a playground.  
Looking around, the firemen found two sheriff's deputies standing back
in a safe open spot, arms crossed, looking up into the branches nearby.

At the foot of the same tree, sat a slathering, snarling, viciously yapping 
miniature chihuahua.  

Captain Stanley, followed by his men, walked over to where the cops 
were waiting.
 
"....Yeah, I know.  You think this is real funny.  I do not want to hear ONE 
WORD from any of you!  Especially you, Gage!  Hey? Where are Gage 
and DeSoto?..." said a body-less voice.

"Not here today apparently.." answered one of the deputies, still smiling.
 
Cap looked around in bewilderment.  He recognized the voice of Deputy 
Vince Howard, but he didn't see him.  He glanced at the two deputies he 
did see, who were standing there smirking as they maintained light crowd
control. Without a word, one of them pointed up, shrugging.
 
So Cap looked up. Then he gaped. "I see it, but I don't believe it."
 
Eight feet up, an enormous Bengal tiger clung to the tree trunk.  Her tail 
lashed from side to side, her ears were laid back along her head and 
her body language clearly radiated terror.  Five feet higher, Vince Howard 
was perched uneasily on a branch.
 
"How in the world?"  Cap asked.  "I mean, just . . . how?"
 
Vince scowled down at him.  "I answered a call about a big cat at the 
playground.  I thought it was just some kids playing a prank on me.  
All of the sudden, I hear this unearthly snarling come from the underbrush, 
and then that ..that...that monster charged me.  I climbed the tree to 
get away from it fast but then it just followed me."
 
"You climbed a tree to get away from a- a...?" Chet asked in disbelief.
 
"Look, Kelly!  You just wait until you have an eight hundred pound feline 
bearing down on you and then we'll see how clearly YOU think!" Vince
roared.
 
"So let me get this straight." Cap said.  "You were chased up a tree by 
an escaped tiger that was being chased by a miniature chihuahua?  So, 
in other words, you both got treed by a...uhhh... a mad mini dog."  He bit 
the inside of his cheek.  Sometimes it was HARD to keep a straight face.
::This one'll look real nice in the log books for the chiefs.:: he thought.
 
Vince just scowled down at him.  He was not amused.
 
Cap turned to the other deputies.  "Any idea where that tiger came from?
She doesn't seem very aggressive...Lucky us.."
 
"Uh, yeah. We know."  One of them gestured to the crowd and an elderly 
man trotted over to join them. "He's got the proper permits for her."
 
"Don't hurt her!" the new man pleaded.  "Please don't hurt my Esmeralda!  
She doesn't mean any harm!  It's the dog, you see.  She's terrified of dogs."
 
Chet indicated the chihuahua.  "That counts?  I mean, seriously.  
Compared to her,.." he said pointing up at the tiger. "..he's an appetizer."
 
"Careful, boys. Any time I try to come down she reaches out some claws at 
me." Vince called.
 
The tiger's owner pleaded gently in soothing tones meant for the tigress.
"It's because she's afraid.  She just wants you to protect her, officer!  I 
raised her from a kitten after she was orphaned -- I have a private big cat 
preserve just down the road.  When she was small she was attacked by a 
Pomeranian and she's been terrified of getting in contact with little yapper 
dogs ever since."

 Marco shrugged.  "Geezzzz. I can see THAT.  They kind of give me the 
heebie jeebies, too. Just look at him go!" Lopez shivered at the dog's 
continuing frenzied vocal attack.

 "Easy Esme.. We'll get you down soon, girl." soothed the man over
the chihuahua's noise.

"We have animal control on the way." one of the deputies told Cap.
"But if they knock her out with a tranquilizer, she's apt to be injured when 
she falls out of the tree.  We thought maybe you fireguys could come up 
with something not quite so drastic.."

"Also, we HAVE to do something about that d*mn*d dog!" Vince shouted
empathetically. "My ear's are ringing!"

Vince's coworkers winced in sympathy at his outburst. "Any suggestions?" 
they asked the fire crew, keeping unconsious watchful hands on their 
unsnapped gun holsters.
 
From his perch in the tree, Vince called down to them.  "I don't want to 
rush you guys, but I'd appreciate it if you'd think fast.  I hate to mention 
this, but I gotta use the can real soon!"

---------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Photos: None.

**************************************************
From: "Roxy Dee" <laterrapincabesa@hotmail.com>
Subject: The Way To An Animal's Heart Is Through His...
Date:  Thu Oct 12, 2006 3:16 pm 


Hank Stanley got serious. "Hang on, Vince. We're gonna
take a minute to think on this one, ok? Won't be long, I promise."

Chuck Sheppard, one of the replacement paramedics for the circus bound 
Roy and Johnny said. "Really?.. Cap! Getting the man's hopes up like 
that. I'm glad somebody gets to think that we're going to be some
kind of miracle workers today..." he teased.

"Hush...It's called giving encouragement to a victim." Cap grinned. 
"Why don't you..get out the gear and biophone in case somebody 
actually does get hurt here while we're helping out. Might happen.
You know how unpredictable animals get on rescue calls. Last thing
I want to do is have to explain myself to the chiefs later, on how 
somebody got themselves chewed up."

"Are we gonna go through anything like what postmen get while delivering 
the mail?" smiled paramedic Billy Hanks.

"Let's hope not. The engine won't hold all of us if we find ourselves needing
a place to hide." Cap joked. Then he turned to the deputies. "Who owns the 
dog?"

"That one's still a mystery.." said the nearest one.

"Terrific.." Cap muttered sarcastically. "Let's hope we don't have to kill either
one of them to get Vince down from there."

"You wouldn't do that? Would you?" the tiger man gasped, overhearing.

One of the jumpier deputies spoke up. "If any lives come in direct danger from 
your tiger while she's trying to get away from that dog? You bet your *ss we will." 

Captain immediately inserted himself between cop and owner. "Now.. now. 
Nobody's doing anything lethal yet. So just relax and try to calm down
a whole lot, mister. We don't want the tiger picking up your stress levels."
Hank mediated quickly.

The owner glanced up into the tree with worry, but he saw that nothing had
changed there.

The firemen fell to thinking around a picnic table.

Chet Kelly finally thought of something. "I got it! Hang on a sec, Cap. I 
think I got the solution to our entire problem right here."  And he began 
digging into his turnout pocket. "I'm surprised I didn't think of it sooner." he 
said.

All the gang raised curious eyebrows. And so did the cops.

Kelly drew out a fresh, wax paper covered large cattle's knuckle bone 
from the butcher's from his turnout coat. "I was going to give this to Bonnie 
this morning, but I forgot to." Then he began whistling at the dog. "Here boy.. 
Come on, you little mop scrap. Look what I got for ya....." he teased the chihuahua.

The overexcited mutt instantly forgot the tiger and turned playfully eager for the 
bone, arrowing for Chet's position through the tall grass.

"That's never going to work, Chet. That bone's bigger than he is.." Marco chided.

"So's the tiger.." Kelly shrugged. "And she didn't stop him, did she?"
Then he turned back to the dog. "Hey, you crazy mutt. Go fetch!" and he tossed 
the large gristled meat covered chunk far out over the playground. They all saw it
land in a sand box with a soft "plish"ing geyser of quartz crystals. The tiny dog 
burst into motion as he went chasing after it, suddenly hungry. The chihuahua 
was soon chewing blissfully on the huge bloody morsel to the exclusion of all 
else.

In the tree, the tigress took notice, and she lifted her head quickly, seeing her 
chance to leave. She bounded down out of the tree and instantly made for her 
owner. Seconds later, she thrust her head through the solid steel chain and leather
collar he held open for her that had been dangling from his back jeans pocket.

"There.. there.. Shhh, easy Esmeralda.. Daddy's here." he soothed, caressing and 
kissing her huge face after she was securely buckled.

All the cops and firemen looked on in disbelief. 

"What a pussy cat. Wow.." Cap finally said breaking the silence, throwing 
out a gesture of dismissal. They watched as man and tiger left the scene for the 
road which led back to the animal's enclosure pen, trailed by a pair of watchful 
deputies. He lifted his HT. "Engine 51 to L.A. Please cancel the request for an 
armed animal control unit to our location. Looks like we won't be needing them. 
The situation's definitely under control now."

##10-4, Engine 51. L.A. to Animal Control Sierra 240, cancel.##

##Sierra 240. Cancelling. Returning to base.## said a reply.

The gang quickly set up a short ladder for Vince to use to climb out of the tree.

The poor police officer was practically dancing up and down to ease the
pressure of his overfull bladder.

Billy nodded at him. "We might have an extra plastic urinal in the squad. 
But I doubt it--"

Chet Kelly cut in neatly. "Or...you can just use this tree here. It's sure been
handy enough. We can get the folks in the crowd to promise not to look."

Marco piped up, too, jogging for the Ward. "Cap, I'll go grab a tarp to cover
him."

"You do that." said Hank and Vince at the same time in exactly the same 
commanding way. 

Both of them started laughing at each other over the whole, crazy 
unbelievable tiger versus dog misadventure.

---------------------------------------------------------------------

Photos: None.


**************************************************
From:  Patti or Cassidy or Jeff <theaterhost@voyagerliveaction.com>
Date: Friday Oct 13, 2006 12:05 pm
Subject: Stage Fright... 

Johnny Gage, on the sidelines of the live circus show in progress,
was growing increasingly nervous. And his partner began to notice
it. "I know it, Roy. It's gonna be one of those absolutely wonderful days... 
I can feel it in every bone of my body." sighed Johnny Gage sarcastically.

"Ok, out with it.." Roy said finally as he watched the ballet riders
tandem balance uncannily on the backs of a pair of beautifully feather 
costumed horses.

Johnny's head whipped around a little too fast. "Out with what? 
Shh.. Show some politeness, would ya? Can't you see I'm trying to enjoy 
the show here?!"

"Yes...  I can." DeSoto said matter of factly, crossing his arms over
his elbows nonchalantly. "But what I'm trying to figure out, too, is why you
think you have to really try in order to do that. What's gotcha all riled up,
junior? We're on a vacation of sorts here. And we're getting paid for it."

"What's got me all riled up?" Johnny hissed at Roy. "I'll tell you
what's got me all riled up. Do you really wanna look like a fool
when we finally get out there?" he asked, jabbing a finger at the three
circus rings bursting with rainbow colored roving spotlights as performers 
from all walks of the carnival strutted, handspring leaped, and tumbled their 
hearts out for their large, attending audience.

It was Roy's turn to let his mouth flop open. "I don't get it."

"There's nothing to get, Roy. Do I have to spell it out for ya?!" asked
Johnny. His voice's tone rose higher and higher, the louder the
audience clapped for each successive circus act. They especially
cheered for the California sea lions balancing and pretending
to drive and play with rubber balls on top of a CHiP officer's car. 

"Yeah.. I think you do.." DeSoto said, chewing on some popcorn from
white and red striped box that a passing organ grinder monkey had 
handed him at the behest of its master a few minutes ago. "Want some?"

"Roy. Haven't you heard a single word I've said? I.. CAN'T.. eat."

DeSoto played the devil's advocate and waved the box of salty buttered 
morsels in front of Johnny's face in a siren's song. "Sure you can. You only
avoid food when you're dying. I've learned at least that much about ya 
during the last two years we've been working together."

"Get that away from me. I'm really not hungry. And I'll tell ya why. 
Jeez, I can't believe I even have to explain how things really are right
now to you." Gage sighed incredulously, still completely pent up.

"How are what things?" Roy frowned, pulling back the popcorn box to stuff
another handful of the steamy corn puffs into his own mouth. "And ok, I 
won't worry about the popcorn.  More for me then."

Gage hurrumphed impatiently, holding up an index finger in a just-you-wait
for-it-and-I'll-tell-you-right-now,-idiot gesture. The last word of Roy's
sentence was barely out when Johnny leaped right in. "Just how are we
gonna know what to look for when our shammed emergency entry cue
comes in? They did say they were gonna do that sometime during the 
show. I mean it could be anything. I don't want to look like a fool running
out there prematurely, before the real moment they're deciding. Know 
what I mean?"

Roy just blinked a few times. "Johnny, how can we mess up? Don't you 
think a whole lotta of those circus folk out there are gonna be yelling and 
hollering for help and calling for us when the time comes?" Roy asked.

"I don't."

Roy stopped chewing. "I think you'd better explain that." he mumbled.

Johnny leaned into him, whispering fiercely. "Maybe they won't be making 
a lot of noise. After all, if I was the ring master, I know I wouldn't want to freak 
out the audience with something that shocking. It might get some little old
lady out there sick. Or something even worse."

"Then aren't you glad we brought our extra rescue squad along?" Roy winked
innocently.

Johnny squinted his eyes. "Roy, you're missing the entire point I'm trying to make."

Roy was equally dead set, but thoroughly amused as well. "So far, you haven't made
a very clear one. And yes, I'm confessing to a little confusion on my part."

Gage closed his eyes after taking a very, very,..very deep breath in.
Then he let it out.  Slowly.  

Soon, his frustrated anger was back under control. 
Then Johnny opened his mouth and spoke, surprising lucid. "Roy, will we 
know what to expect when their unknown type accident finally happens?"

Roy found that he just couldn't resist the obvious. "We're firemen. Do we ever know?
Usually, we wait to get clued in by a certain golden throated Los Angeles County Fire
Department dispatcher." DeSoto snorted mirthfully, grinning like the cat in the 
perverbial gold fish bowl.

Gage gaped. He threw up his hands in exasperation and started rubbing his 
forehead in pained irritation. "I don't know why I even talk to you sometimes, 
Roy. You know that?"

Roy was decent enough not to dignify that comment with a reply, but that didn't stop
him from grinning or pushing his partner's more than obvious buttons. Finally, he
relented. "Ok. I'm coming clean. Yes, I've been wondering exactly the same thing
you've been wondering. Are you satisfied?"

"Kinda.. Kinda." Johnny said, waggling so-so fingers. Then he grabbed Roy by 
the shoulders, upsetting the popcorn box to the point where most of it spilled out 
all over the ground. A nearby chained elephant startled them both when its bristly, 
freckled pink and gray trunk shot out to claim the fallen kernels for itself,
cluster by brown, dusty corn cluster. 

"Hiya, Caesar..." Roy said, patting the behemoth tusker on the forehead. "You're
welcome." he chuckled.

Johnny was completely unglued as of that exact moment. He gripped his pounding 
heart in reaction. "That was....  He reached out and got your food from that far away?" 
he peeped.

"Yep. Prehensibility's handy, ain't it?" DeSoto grinned toothily.

"Maybe for him. I don't have a trunk,.. or a tail. At least, not the last time I checked."
Johnny said, finally sitting down shakily on a nearby hay bale. 

"I'll be sure to let you know if you suddenly spring out a third eyeball." Roy laughed.
Then he leaned in. "If that'll truly be what makes you feel better."

"Feel better?  Feel better?! I'll tell you what'll make me feel better. What'll make me
feel better is when we're finally able to do something for that fake emergency call 
they're gonna spring on us sometime within the next hour. That's what and that's 
why I'm so &~%*@#$ nervous!" Johnny finished dramatically, swatting away Caesar 
the elephant's trunk irritably when the pachyderm tried to hug him around the head 
with a buttery, muscled coil of nose.

Roy finally looked his high strung partner straight in the face in all seriousness.
"Whatever for? You act like we've never faced life and death situations before.
For Pete's sake, Johnny. This isn't even going to be a real one."

"That's the problem right there, Roy. We.. don't...KNOW what it's going to be." he 
said stabbing himself in the temple sharply with a finger. He didn't even wince 
when a self made red mark of impact popped out on his skin seconds later. 
At least, he didn't until Roy pressed a drained pink lemonade cup discard 
from out of the garbage can against his head to chill it back down into 
invisibility using left over ice cubes insulating through the cup's soggy paper.

DeSoto didn't say another word and he just placed Johnny's hands one by one
onto the cup until Gage was paramedic treating himself. Roy looked up at another
surge of applause from the monster crowd that was still visible despite all the show 
lights."Oh, look. They're sending in the clowns. I like clowns. You should, too. For
I know they'll help make you feel better. You see, a clown is like aspirin.."

Gage shook his head in incomprehension, his face squinting up in utter frustration.
"Like aspirin? I don't follow.."

"Yeah, a clown is like aspirin..." Roy insisted, scowling. "Only he works twice as 
fast. Although even a whole mob of those might not work in your case at all." he said, 
looking away to salvage the rest of the popcorn Caesar hadn't yet raided out of 
his mangled box. "I'm afraid you're hopeless, junior." he concluded, nodding his 
head ruefully.

Johnny was speechless. 

Until a young woman of sixteen or seventeen popped through a fold 
in the inner curtain of red and white canvas and peeked in on them. 
She was dressed in silver sequins trimmed in navy that matched 
a pod of white poodles collared in the same show 
gawdy way that swirled in with her chaotically. "There you are." she 
told the two firemen. Then she turned to her French coiffed charges. 
"Boy and girls. Sit."

Immediately, the group of poodles sat down in front of her in a 
perfect row, eagerly watching her face silently with waggling 
tails and excited ears for her next soft order.

"Stay..." she said, with a subtle gesture of one finger. Then she
turned to the two formally neck tied paramedics. "Oh, that'll never 
do." she said. Instantly, she plucked off first Johnny's tie and then 
Roy's in quick order. "There.." she said. "You're going to be 
working like everyday living, guys. Not giving a demo." she 
said, tucking the ties, one each, into their uniform shirt pockets.

"But I thought that's what a fake emergency exercise is, Miss.... Uh, 
I'm Johnny Gage, and this is my partner--"

"..Roy DeSoto.." said the young show girl without missing a beat. 
"I know your names, sirs. You said them both during your intro speech, 
remember?" she stage whispered."Come on.. we're taking a break. I 
know for a fact that you won't be needed for at least half an hour."

Johnny glommed onto that little bit of concrete fact. "Half an h-- Hey, 
where are we going?" he asked as the dog trainer tugged on both of 
their arms as she dragged them out of the main Big Top tent.

"To set up your semi-permanent dressing room and digs for as 
long as you're gonna stay with the tour." she grinned happily. "The 
circus owner asked me to settle you in personally. Hi, my name's 
Ashley Diamond. Or, at least, that's my performing show name."

Roy piped up eagerly. "Nice to meet you,.Ms. Diamond. Uh,. are we 
going to be staying in the performer's train along with all the rest of 
you?"

"Nahh. Boss figured that being civilian might set your tastes for some 
privacy at night. Usually normal folk are a little bit more modest than us 
theater types when it comes to dressing into garb issues." Ashley 
explained.

"Uh, we're paramedics. Seeing nudity doesn't phase us in the 
slightest." Johnny elaborated coolly.

"Not others' that's for sure." shot back Ashley. "But displaying your 
own might be a different story when you're bunking up with a complete 
group of total strangers."

Both firemen opened their mouths at that surprising truth, but nothing 
succeeded in getting out enough to form words. They decided to just 
obediently follow where the charming young lady was leading them.

"Ah, here we are.." said the glitzy dog trainer. "Home sweet home.." 
she said, sweeping out a hand and arm dramatically. "Mommy Fortuna 
said that she was thrilled that some actual hard working firefolk would 
be staying in her own Romanian vardo."

Johnny squinted through the darkness, trying to identify any number 
of things: another tiny blue and yellow striped tent, an outhouse, an 
occupied red and gold guilded lion's cage.."A what?" he asked, 
straining to see in the rich darkness.

"A gyspy wagon, Mr. Gage. And a very comfortable one, too. It's an 
original from the old country. And it's all yours, fellas." she said, 
suddenly doing a magician's slight of hand from under her rich royal 
blue velvet cloak.  An old, Victorian candelabra with already 
lit candles appeared out of thin air and landed slightly heavy into her 
hand. 

They began brightly lighting the way.

Roy and Johnny barely comprehended that impossibility when they 
caught sight of the place of residence that would be theirs over the 
next two weeks. Their Headquarters borrowed spare rescue squad 
that was identical to the one they usually worked with out of Station 51, 
was already conveniently parked in the space between the two horse 
yoke bars that were attached to the green, intricately painted wagon. 
The squad's number 99 sparkled reflectively in safety glow under the 
flickering candlelight. "We remembered to leave the keys in the ignition 
for you so'll you'll be ready when we call for you, top of the next act. 
Come on, let me give you the grand tour of your new living space. You're 
gonna love it..." she grinned.

In the shadows, the brown and white pinto splashed side of a genuine 
Vanner gypsy horse grazing near the squad loomed out and was patted 
by Miss Diamond. "Easy, Fritz. These are friends. They aren't going to 
curse you, boy. But remember, they aren't used to being around horses."

Johnny cleared his throat. "Uh,.*Hmmph* My partner here might not be. 
But I am." he grinned at her. "I own a ranch full of horses. Well, full of 
three of them, at least. All mustangs."

"Fair enough. But watch out when the moon gets full. Fritz here believes 
in lunacy."

"So do we.." DeSoto chuckled. "Full moon shifts are the absolute worst. 
Speaking of which, looks like tonight's moon is all there."

"I promise we won't all fall apart at once. We're pretty good." she 
teased. Ashley beckoned the two paramedics to the ornately carved 
dainty stairs of the gypsy wagon. She drew out a brass skeleton key 
and turned it in the bronze lock until there was a click. "After you.." 
she said, pushing open the heavily windowed, varnished door. 

-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Photo:  A poodle trainer and her dogs.

Photo: A far away shot of a circus performing ring.

Photo: Sea lions balancing on a CHiP car.

Photos: Circus trains on railroad tracks. Traditional P.T. Barnum.

Photo: A gypsy horse's eye in closeup.

Photo: Johnny looking disturbed and dirty, near Roy.

Photo: An open vardo door above wooden stairs.

**************************************************
From: Jeff Seltun <finiterider@yahoo.com> 
Date: Wed Oct 18, 2006 4:45 pm 
Subject: Under Torch Light~~ 


Roy DeSoto sucked in his breath at the sight of what truly was
an eyeful of ancient Victorian decor. "Wow, I feel like Artemis
Gordon or James T. West from that sci-fi-wild-west TV show, Johnny. 
I think we've just been transported into the past a few hundred years 
or so."

The poodle trainer laughed richly. "But you'll be entirely comfortable. 
Come to the unhitched blue train car in between the lion cage and the 
carousel for any bathing. We've rigged up hot showers there from a ring. 
We all get to eat after the show's over and the animals are taken care of. 
Just head for the red tent next to the big one." she smiled, handing the 
wagon's key over to Roy on its bow tied lavender ribbon.

"Will do, ma'am. Thanks!" said Johnny, watching her sequined sparkled
form departing down the vardo's yellow steps. When Roy had the door 
snugly closed against the night's chill, he launched himself into the air
and back landed on the drapes and canopy bed, bouncing happily. 
"Ahhhh." he sighed, sinking into the richly embroidered pillows. "Now this 
is what you call truly escaping from it all for a while. I mean, just how much 
further away from modern Carson City, California can we get, than this?"

Roy grinned in spite of himself as he examined the filled white porcelain 
wash basin and pitcher set on one lace covered wagon dresser. "We can't.
I'm liking this assignment of yours even more now, Johnny."

"Me, too. It just keeps on getting better and better." he said, eyeing 
the steady flow of attractive female circus performers through the wagon's 
stained glassed window as they ran over the grass from the train in a 
last minute dash towards their acts to come. He flung his face away from 
the etched panes when a loud snort of steam suddenly jetted against the 
glass. It was Fritz, the gypsy horse, getting curious about his new vardo 
residents."Or maybe not. I sure hope that circus horse minds his manners 
and doesn't decide to wake us up in the middle of the night just because 
he's looking for someone to play with."

"You can always picket his tether out of reach.." Roy suggested.

"Nah, then he'd only start whinnying, thinking that he's lonely or something.
The way that girl has him now is good enough. I'll just...close the curtains 
on him later when we finally do get to try for some sleep. Maybe he'll get 
the message.."

Roy glanced down under a brightly polished wooden stool. "And 
there's our fire department duffle bags. Already stowed."

"Nice. Good innkeepers here. But do you think they have somebody 
available to do our laundry?"

"There's always hoping. Come on. We've checked out our digs, 
partner. Let's go drive the rescue squad into the tent so we'll be ready 
for when they are." DeSoto suggested.

Johnny began to squirm nervously once more. "Aw, Roy. Do we have
to head back there so soon?"

Roy eyed Gage in amusement. "Come on, Mr. Cold Feet. I'll let you 
feed Fritz a sugar cube or two while I check out the medical and 
extrication gear. There's some in the sugar bowl." he said, pointing.

Gage snatched a few up into his shirt pocket and was immediately 
out the door and at the horse's side, fully bent on forgetting his stage 
nerves as he stroked and petted his brown and white splotched neck.

DeSoto got busy making sure that all was ready.

-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Johnny had resumed pacing back and forth just out of sight of the show
lights, actively.  He was so twitchy, that he already had his fire helmet on
his head to guard against it falling off for when the time to respond actually
came.

Roy stood nearby, peering through a convenient peek hole in the side
of the curtain. "Huh. That can't be it.."

Gage immediately scuffled in the dirt, shouldering him aside eagerly as he
took Roy's place to spy on the show. "What isn't? What are you seeing?"

"An impalement."

"What?!"

"Relax, Johnny. It's just a magician's illusion act with a bit more flair."

Johnny made a face when he finally saw what Roy had been looking at.
He made a noise of disgust. "Eeeyuckkk! You're right. A two foot skewer
through the stomach's not what you call your everyday kind of accident." 
he chuckled finally.

DeSoto tapped him on the arm. "Let me keep that eye out. You can go
back to wearing a groove down into the dirt."

"Very funny. " Gage said stepping back as a troupe of hobo clowns ambled
past them for the show ring. A few of them even waved at Johnny and Roy
with few hat tips angled towards them in silent greeting. "Break a leg." he
said, remembering just in time what to say.

One of the clowns, holding a gigantic rolled up newspaper under an arm,
waved at him. "Hiya, mac." he said. "'Fraid it's not going to be that. 
See you in a few minutes.." he winked. Then he was gone.

Gage started gesticulating wildly at Roy.
"Hey, Roy.. Did you hear what that clown in the white hat said?!  He said.."

"I heard. You're worries are over, Johnny. Now we know who to start watching
here." Roy grinned, crossing his arms over his elbows. For good measure, he 
walked back to the squad and started it up into a propped open doors idle. 
"He must have seen how pale you're getting thinking about it too much."

"Me? Getting pale?" Johnny quipped, "That'll never happen. I'm the wrong 
nationality. I never look like I can even suffer from that kind of thing." he 
laughed, finally grinning.

Roy was glad to see him getting back to normal. He turned back to monitoring
the clown troupe's act from his peek hole. Then his mouth flopped open at
a chorus of female screams coming from the audience. "Holy cow! Johnny, 
let's hit it." he said, running for the squad in measured steps as he put his helmet 
on.

"What? What's going on?" Johnny said, rushing back to the truck with him.
"Is this it?"

"Yep. No doubt about it. You're gonna haveta see this in order to believe it, pal. 
Just get in. Then get ready to start grabbing everything we've got." DeSoto said
with an excited smile, flipping on their lights and sirens. "They certainly pulled out
all the stops for us with this one." he chuckled. 

The two paramedics pulled forward and shot through the main tent's show entrance 
in a cloud of dust.

Johnny couldn't believe what he was looking at. He got out of the squad and 
positioned himself on the running board in a crouch to jump out of the cab 
the moment Roy got there.

Their particular hobo clown was burning..

He was fully on fire, where he sat in his chair. It looked like his oversized 
newspaper was to blame for it. For there was nothing left of his sportspage 
except a huge charred hole where the igniter solution had started from.

"Holy cow..." Gage gaped. "I know that ain't real. He's not yelling. But what an 
effect. Jeez. Took me by surprise."

"The audience, too. Now you see why this is definitely it." DeSoto said, 
screeching to a halt right in the middle of the circus arena about ten feet away 
from the fire protected blazing performer.

"And how. Let's go." Johnny said snatching his door open. Both firemen
grabbed their jackets and gloves and threw them on. Simultaneously, Roy 
grabbed a fire extinguisher from a side compartment while Johnny got out 
and unfolded a fire tarp.

Shouting to move the other worry acting, fake panicking clowns away from
their "victim", the two tackled the clown right out of his chair in a smothering
bundle of carbon dioxide fog and retardant canvas. They got him quickly
face down into the dirt while they smothered the sputtering flames burning 
away the clown actor's costume from the fire safety suit. Roy and Johnny 
made a big show of smacking out escaping flames with their hands and soon,
other clowns play acted rescue around them to reassure the audience that
this was all part of the performance. A few of them even got out plastic shovels
and starting fake shovelling dirt onto their fellow fallen. One even started dog
paddling sand over backwards onto the clown through his bent knees.

Gage leaned down, trying not to grin, towards their clown's ear. "Ok, it's out.
What's wrong with ya now?"

"Your choice. Anything you decide, I guess. Boss told me to just go along with
whatever." said the clown, keeping his eyes closed. "I got makeup under my 
rip away fire suit that looks like burns if you'd like."

Roy patted some hands up near the clown's head to hide what he 
was actually doing. "Ok,..you know about first aid, right?"

"Yeah.. A little." said the clown guardedly, still not moving.

"Pretend you've quit breathing..." DeSoto said to him.

The clown nervously peeked open one slimy eyeball. "What?!"

"Shh.. We won't hurt ya. We'll pull the pressure valve off our resuscitator
bag so it'll just look like it's working over your face. Ready?" Gage asked, 
pretending like he was pulling off the fire tarp to begin to roll the clown 
over for an airway check.

"Just keep my red hearts underwear on..." hissed the tensed up clown.

Johnny felt very gleeful that the tables were finally turned and that somebody
else was going to be nervous for a while instead of him. "We will. If they
do come off, you'll be under a soaked saline sheet. Won't be see through, I 
promise."

The clown reclosed his cracked open eye. "You gonna do CPR, too?"

"Whaa?-Uh, you want us to?" DeSoto asked, getting the clown the rest of the
way over onto his back.

Gage looked up at his near smirking partner.
"The crowd'll love it, Roy. Let's try it. Mister, when we get to fake shocking you,
I'll tap your side with my shoe's toe. Just remember to jerk upwards like in all 
those doctor TV shows you've seen. But only when I press down with the 
paddles, ok? That'll look real."

"With the juice off, right?" asked the hobo clown fearfully.

"Completely off." DeSoto said, bending his head down over the clown's
nose and mouth while Gage busied himself getting the clown's blackened
rags and black spray painted foil fire suit peeled open from over his chest. 
"We can control that easily. There's a charge button we won't push on
the defibrillator."

"Ok, I'm all yours. When you're ready to go live, hand signal that clown
with the yellow wig on. He'll toggle on the microphones in the ring and 
everyone'll hear anything you say during the rest of things." hissed their
burned clown.

Roy nodded slightly and reached for the clown's neck in a fake pulse check.
Not surprisingly, he found a very fast one. "Relax. We're both good, too." he
stage whispered. Then he gave the sound clown the cue to go sound live.
Roy pulled off his helmet to test to see if he could hear the noise through
the audience loud speakers, purposely throwing it off in a hurry so that
it landed in the dirt with a loud clatter. He could, so DeSoto began their 
paramedic act. "Johnny, he's not breathing. No pulse."

"Here's the ambu bag resuscitator. I'll go grab the oxygen, the rest of the 
gear, and the biophone." Gage said, handing Roy a bag that he had 
snapped the one way valve off of. Johnny pulled out his HT and turned it on, 
knowing that it was already set to the same frequency as the circus's P.A. 
system. "Squad 51 to L.A., we've a pulseless non-breather at our location. 
Respond one ambulance to the main tent, center ring a.s.a.p. We've a severe 
burn victim."

Gage almost grinned again when he heard the ring master rustling papers over
the speaker system as he searched for his scripted lines. ##10-4, Squad 51. 
The ambulance's ETA is being reported...They're five minutes out.## The M.C. 
said into his microphone.

"10-4, L.A." Gage spoke again into his handy talkie. "We'll be contacting 
Rampart Hospital shortly via biophone telemetry as soon as our victim's being 
circulatory supported."

##L.A. copies, Squad 51.## came the ring master's reply.

Gage flung open the squad gear doors and grabbed out the defibrillator 
and the oxygen resuscitator as well as the marked dummy drug box 
filled with needle-less saline syringes that was sitting next to the real 
one.

When Johnny got back to his partner's side, he saw that Roy had already
begun a cycle of fake compressions over the man's chest and was 
counting them off audibly. "...twelve, thirteen, fourteen...fifteen.. Ok.."

Gage scrambled over to the clown's head and gave him a couple of
breaths using the green transparent breathing bag and mask after he had
hooked it up to the oxygen tank. Then he reached into the drug box and 
pulled out an oral airway the proper size and a fake second one that had 
had its tongue channel tube cut off part way down the shaft.

He made a show examining the real oropharyngeal airway in a spot light 
before he sneakily tucked it away into his belt for the fake held in his other
hand. Johnny exaggeratedly established it in between their actor clown's teeth.
"Initial airway's in, Roy. I've got good chest rise and I'm getting a pulse with 
your CPR compressions." he said, putting a palm on the man's chest around 
Roy's hands as he gave a squeeze on the bag. The clown dutifully matched 
a huge rising breath with Johnny's bagging and vocal cue.

DeSoto nodded from where he was working. "Charge the defib then, Johnny. 
We've profused him long enough."

Gage handed over the paddles and turned on the power so that the 
datascope's lights turned on and it made a very satisfying power up whine. 
Then he didn't hit the charge button, but faked a strong touch to a plate near it, 
instead. "Paddles are charging....one hundred, two hundred... Is he in 
ventricular fibrillation?"

DeSoto spoke up."I've got the conductive gel, Johnny..." he said, holding out 
the lubricant tube. "Putting some on." DeSoto squeezed out a couple of gobs 
and rubbed the paddles together before placing them on the clown's burn 
makeup'd skin. "Checking for a shockable rhythm..." he said as Johnny delivered 
another breath by bypassed ambu.  "Yep. Confirmed:  He's in V-Fib...Here..." he 
said handing out the electrodes' grips to Gage. He took over reading out what 
would have been a stacked buildup in the paddles' plates."...three hundred 
watts... Four!"

Johnny shouted out his warning after he had the paddles set into place.
"Clear!....I'm shockinnggg....."  Then he nudged the clown with his knee."....now."

The hobo jolted up perfectly when Johnny pressed his hands down.

Gage and Roy both looked at the screen of the defibrillator after Gage
had replaced his grips for a manual read. "Nothing!" said Gage. "I'll contact
the hospital for an esophageal airway and permission for cardiac drugs."
he said casting the paddles aside, back into the case.

"I'll keep up his CPR, Johnny." DeSoto said, starting in on another shallow
and feigned set of compressions.

Gage kept up his end of things by using his chest to squeeze the bag
flat against his knees while he used his hands to hold the ambu's mask 
over the clown's face. He spoke urgently into the phone's receiver, chin perched
on his shoulder. He was quite surprised when he heard his own voice echoing
through the sound system. ::My aren't they thorough gaffers.:: he thought
of the sound guys lurking in the background behind the audience. ::I'll just bet
they can hear me all the way out to the circus train on the tracks outside. :: 
"Rampart Hospital? This is Squad 51. How do you read?"

##I read you loud, Squad 51.## said the ring master in a little dialogue slip-up.

Roy, Johnny and the clown all fought to keep their faces in serious, or dead,
expressions. 

Gage piped up. "Uh,,*cough* Rampart, we've a male victim aged approximately
fifty years. Victim of self immolation. Second and third degree burns are evident 
over ten percent of his body. He is currently pulseless and non-breathing 
undergoing oxygenating CPR. We report a no-recapture on our initial shock."
Johnny finished talking and started sweating when he began to wonder whether
or not the fire department's script had been written for a cardiac arrest situation.
But he needn't have worried. The circus ringmaster was a true pro.

##10-4, Paramedic Squad 51. Establish an esophageal airway and administer
two amps sodium bicarb into an I.V. of normal saline wide open. Then deliver
one milligram of one to ten thousand concentration of epinephrine I.V. push. 
Ahh,.. then zap him again.## came the disembodied biophone voice over the 
circus speakers.

Johnny parroted back his orders, hiding a grin. ::Say, he's pretty good. He
sounds just like Dr. Br--::

Roy broke off his thoughts. "Johnny, he's vomited. Grab the suction!"
he shouted as he rolled the "dead" man over onto his left side.

Automatically, Gage did and together they "removed" the oral and suctioned
the clown's mouth out for real by using the wet inside of his cheeks to create
some very dramatic sound effects. 

Soon, after another set of CPR, the medications' delivery into a hanging I.V. 
bag held by the yellow haired clown, and the insertion of a cut off prop EOA, 
the two paramedics finally called out scripted good news with their second
defibrillator shock.

Johnny finally let the smile he had been hiding during their whole act, out.
"Roy, he's back. We've got a ....ventricular rate of thirty.." Gage made up as 
he used the paddles again for a quick peek. "And...I've got a pulse at the neck,
but he's not waking up." he said so their actor wouldn't unrealistically with
his fake EOA in.

"Ok.  Still unconscious. He's breathing on his own, Johnny. I'll patch him in on the 
electrocardiogram monitor so we can send his EKG information to the hospital." 
Roy said, switching out Johnny's prop ambu for a real flowing oxygen mask.
::Heh. This won't hurt our friend here.:: Roy mused.::And it might begin to cool
him down some internally before we start irrigating his "burns". The O2 bottle's 
been night chilled. Man, that must have been real hot inside that fire suit sitting 
under all those flames like he was.:: he decided.  He could see their actor relax 
visibly under the free lung air conditioning he was being offered. "Johnny, his 
breathing rate's shallow, shocky, at twenty, but adequate."

"Ok. I'll take his blood pressure. Can you get a set of breath sounds via 
stethoscope? The doctor's gonna wanna know if he burned himself inside any."
Gage asked, still enjoying their whole emergency scenario actively. Roy could 
see the happy body english on his partner easily enough. 

"Checking.." said Roy, bending over the clown's chest with his drum. "He's
clear. He didn't aspirate anything into his lungs when he got sick earlier." he 
said. "Nor is he showing signs of fire induced pulmonary edema. There's no
fluid building up in his chest at all." he explained to the audience.

"Blood pressure's stabilizing, Roy." said Gage. "He's up to ninety over sixty two."

Johnny shared some dialogue with "Rampart" on their patient's regained pulse
status and they began his burn care using covering sheets and liter bottles of 
saline solution poured along all areas where the clown's body makeup showed 
"injury".  

Soon, they got their transport orders from the ring master.

A sound of a siren approached the circus tent and Roy and Johnny looked up
automatically. Johnny spoke into the biophone. "Rampart, ambulance's here.
Our E.T.A. is eight minutes to your burn ward. Our victim's vitals signs are stable.
We've extubated the airway, Rampart, and he's beginning to show signs of 
waking up."

##10-4.## said the phone. ##Give an update on a new set of vital signs during 
transit. And use five milligrams morphine, given intravenously, as needed for 
pain.##

The siren grew louder and all eyes turned to the front tent entrance.  The hobo
clown's troupe appeared a few seconds later and the silent, respectful circus 
audience suddenly burst out into open, bubbling laughter.

Gage and Roy,.. and at last, the "burned" hobo clown with some feigned 
weakness, also looked over there...

Johnny's self satisfied mirth faded into a growing glower that he barely
managed to hide in time from the audience. It appeared almost right 
away when he saw what was coming quickly towards them.

---------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

"Aww, Roy.. We were upstaged in the worst way! Now I don't know how all
those people tonight are EVER gonna start taking fire paramedics seriously." 
Gage said, thumping his fist onto a nightstand next to the bed inside their 
gypsy wagon. "Those clowns completely ruined everything for us."

"Oh, I don't think they did anything wrong, Johnny. I think you're just 
overreacting again." said Roy, almost half asleep on the cushy bed next to 
Johnny's butt. "I thought it was simply masterful to do what they did when they 
did it to show all the kids that none of what happened was actually real. After 
all, spontaneous combustion's not exactly what I call good childhood fairy tale
fodder."

"Oh... Yeah.. It's not... Ok, I agree with ya there. The circus had a right to lighten 
things up a little. Including making a clown go up into eventually fake proven 
smoke. But enough is enough of a joke...." he agonized again at the memory. 
"...without us getting it rubbed in like that. They didn't have to do that bit at ALL." 
Gage grumbled.

"I rather liked it." DeSoto said, chuckling where he lay eyeing up the heavily 
varnished and curtain draped ceiling. "I thought everything they did afterwards 
was super funny. Including our hobo friend's shinanigans. He's very good at 
sight gag."

Gage glared the question. "In whose opinion?"
 
Roy cracked a smile. "What? Didn't you like the circus's ambulance, Johnny?"

Johnny shot to his feet and leaned a hand on the window so he could see
out into the thunderstorm that was fast approaching the circus grounds.
"No. Not a clown car where thirty clowns run out of it and try to put your
patient inside of it by using a stretcher with no bottom in it..." Gage complained.

Outside the wagon, getting rain wet and loving it, was Fritz. To Johnny's dismay, 
the gypsy horse started laughing almost as loudly as Roy did.

---------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Photos:   None.

 
**************************************************
From: "Patti" <pattik1@hotmail.com> 
Date: Fri Oct 20, 2006 9:42 pm 
Subject: -AMA- 

It was intermission, the prepping stretch of time the circus took in 
between the floor and animal acts in the rings and the aerial ones. 

Station 51's gang had made good on their threat to make an appearance
at Roy and Johnny's departmental gig.

"Say,..she's a looker." said Chet, leaning back on a picnic table that
was one of many rainbow hued ones placed practically inside the red 
food tent where the show's chefs ran a gem of a chow line. 

The firemen were surprised that the employee tent offered an extremely
varied multi-ethnic menu, everything from grilling steaks to vegan
rice dishes from the far east. "Johnny, you're missing out." said Kelly
tipping his head back as he peered at something up in the rafters.

"Whaa- huh?" Gage said, looking up from his heavily laden plate he
had perched on his lap. He cast his head about but didn't see anything
past a plethora of colorfully dressed circus performers.

"Zenith twelve o'clock.." Hank offered helpfully, sucking some barbeque 
sauce off his fingers.

Gage looked up and noticed an elegant aerialist suspended over their heads.
"Oh, that's Sonya Skye. Everyone tells me that she's world famous for working
the ribbons."

"Working with what?" asked Stoker, reaching past Cap for a mustard bottle.

"The ribbons, you know, like spinning stunts on ropes. Only she doesn't use 
those. Just chiffon ribbons." Johnny grinned in appreciation.

"Careful, Johnny. You might burn your steak. I think you're overheating a little." 
Marco warned teasingly as they all watched the girl work through a practice routine
of ballet moves and flips and strength moves on the two long lengths of red scarves
upon which she hung.

Gage didn't even hear him. "And she's not married. But the strongman says she 
does have a boyfriend. He's a trapeze artist on the swings and a wire acrobat."

Hank studied her thoughtfully. "She's not using a safety line up there."

Roy chuckled. "I don't think she needs to, Cap. Haven't you noticed that we're 
the only ones unconsciously flinching whenever she does a hands free air flip?"

"She may be good. But still, you have to keep planning for the completely 
unexpected." Hank shrugged. "High angle anything always needs 
safety gear.  If there's one thing I've learned in our line of work it's 
that nobody ever gets perfect at any skill no matter how much they've 
practiced.There's always, at the very least, a fatigue factor that keeps 
getting in the way."

"Yeah, that goes along hand in hand with some pig headedness at being impatient
for getting things worked out real fast to begin with." DeSoto agreed, jerking a
teasing thumb at Johnny as an example of who was already well known for 
possessing that kind of trait.

"Spoken like true firefighters, both of ya." Kelly mumbled, working through 
a plate full of spaghetti as if he had spent a week starving to death. "No, I think
Johnny's got the right idea for once, guys. Let's just sit back and enjoy the
scenery." he sighed, thoroughly enjoying the several suspended gymnastics 
groups surrounding them. 

Cap chuckled. "So,.. what'd'ya get?" he asked his two paramedics.

Roy looked down from the girl aerialist. Then he finally realized that he was being
addressed. "Oh. Uh.. For our first mock medical? We got a comical version of 
a human torch act."

"A what?" Marco laughed.

"It's a long story. I was a great fan of it although I can't say that Johnny 
was feeling too happy about it afterwards." Roy grinned.

"You saved the guy, right? I thought McConnikee wrote your scripts to 
include a save no matter what the medical scenario." Chet wondered.

"Oh, yeah. We saved the guy from burning and suffocating to death, 
but Johnny feels that the responding BLS support services left much 
to be desired."

"What happened?"

"Clowns happened." DeSoto smirked. 

The rest of the guys blinked at him uncomprehendingly.

Roy rubbed his face with a napkin. "Uh, I guess Johnny'll have to explain that 
one himself later on when he's done oggling and eating. He tells it better."

"So you're having fun AND getting paid. That's great news. I was worried." 
said Cap.

"Do we ever not have fun on our jobs?" Stoker quipped. 

The rest of the gang chuckled.

"How are your prop supplies holding up. Do you want me to call McConnikee 
and order more?" Cap said, tapping his HT.

"Nah, we're good." Gage said, finally paying attention to the conversation.
"So far we just used some CPR stuff and an oxygen mask."

"Where's the squad? Did you get it under shelter before all this rain hit?"

"Yep. It's parked behind the horses over there. We figured they wouldn't tug or
spit on it like some of the other animals might."

"Tug?" Chet frowned. "You mean they're hiding a gorilla or two around here 
someplace?"

"No, Chet. They aren't." Gage said, leaning in on Chet. "Think elephant trunks.." 
he said, pantomiming one in front of his face.

Roy giggled. "Yeah.. Poor Johnny's become the expert on just how annoying
those can be. He's sure tangled with enough of them during the last couple of 
hours."

"What's the matter, Gage? Are you bored?" Hank said, seeing Gage's 
dazed expression.

"Far from. Just--....."

"...overstimulated...." broke in Marco.

Gage shot him a nasty look and didn't offer up a reaction.

"So, any real life emergencies cropping up?" Hank asked, rubbing his hands
together.

"Nope. None. Well, none if you don't call a twisted ankle an actual emergency
needing special attention." Johnny sighed. 

Roy agreed, nodding blandly. "That was Rubber Man. He caught himself
between a box car door and the jam getting out of the train."

"What did you do for him?" Cap asked, wondering about whether or not they
had to have contacted the real hospital for permission to treat the performer.

"Ice and elevation." DeSoto told him. "Johnny and I both think he won't
be needing a doctor as badly as some of us would've in the same situation, 
s--"

"..since he's so naturally double jointed anyway.." Chet interrupted. 

"Yep. He'll heal REAL fast." Gage agreed.

"So how's the horse trailer?" Marco teased. "We all saw it driving in here."

"It's not a horse trailer, it's a genuine authentic Romanian vardo, a gypsy
wagon normally used way back when for folk of the royal blood." Gage
smugly shared with them. "We're housed like kings, believe it or not.
We're completely comfortable. Everything's absolutely plush in there."

"Really? I never would have figured." Mike Stoker said, scratching his chin.
Then his eyes tracked a commotion on the other side of the tent. "Uh, oh.
Something's up.."

"Yeah,, she is.." said Chet, dreamily of the ribbon working Sonya, far
over their heads.

Cap and the others sat up a little straighter and started paying
attention when a babble, filled with stress, started rising.


"Oh, my g*d. Yuri's choking! Somebody help him!" cried the suspended 
Sonya, who could see everything happening down below her. The lithe 
young performer started sliding down the red chiffon bolts, impatiently 
shoving past her spin handler/spotter as she reached the floor. 
"Yuri!! I'm coming!"

Roy and Johnny and the others shot to their feet and started running
towards the heart of the growing crowd.

True to the shouts of panic, a man was down, collapsed and unmoving.
He was dressed in the apricot spandex of a trapeze artist.

"The ribbon girl's boyfriend." Chet guessed correctly. "I'll go
get the ringmaster."

Hank immediately began issuing orders. "Stoker, go pull up the squad.
The rest of you, control this crowd. They're interfering."

Marco immediately got on that, along with Stanley. "Folks, just step back.
The paramedics are here and we can't help this man if you're all
bending down over him like this. Step back!" said Lopez loudly.

One panicking lady, a bearded one, sniffled. "He's got to be choking. I saw
him take a bite and then he just keeled right over on top of his plate."

"Let me through! Yuri! Are you all right?" asked Sonya, finally getting
her tiny blond haired self, over to them.

Cap grabbed Sonya's shoulders when she showed no signs of
staying away. "Now, miss. That's what we're trying to find
out right now. Please calm down. Your panic's worrying everyone."

Sonya's eyes darted about and finally, she fell silent.


Cap could see that Roy and Johnny already had Yuri on his back 
with his chin tipped up. "The gear's coming. I told Mike to bring it all."

"Ok, Cap." Gage said, as he and Roy bent low over the unconscious man.
"He's got a pulse."

DeSoto added more. "He's moving air ok here. And his throat and mouth are 
clear. Johnny, he's getting diaphoretic."

"He's not choking?" fretted the bearded lady standing next to Marco."Then
what's his problem? I thought for sure that--"

"Ma'am.." said Marco, taking her arm. "Ma'am.. Roy and Johnny are gonna
figure that out real soon here, ok? But you're gonna have to calm down and
let them work on it. Why don't you have a seat?" he suggested, pulling over 
a nearby picnic table bench.

Hank crouched by Roy and began shoving benches, loose straw... and other
people away from their patient. "Everybody, please. Help's already here.
There's nothing to see that you need to know about right away. Please.
Respect this couple's privacy by turning your backs to us. I'm sure that
you wouldn't want people gaping down at you if you were in his place
right now..."

Stanley's deep commanding tone had an effect and soon, folks moved
away and the sounds of normal dining began again.

The white leotarded Sonya was the only one who remained, seated 
by Yuri's side, holding his hand. The firemen let her stay. "Yuri.. I'm here."
she sobbed.

Roy turned to her as Johnny got up to meet Stoker and the squad for
their emergency gear. "Sonya, do you know any of Yuri's medical history?
Does he have any prior condition that might explain why he passed out 
like this?"

Sonya's large eyes started tearing up. "No.. no.. uh. Yuri and I keep
ourselves in good shape. We have to, or we wouldn't be able to work."
she said in a thick, soft soprano, full of Romanian accent. "He eats
good. Exercises for hours every day..." she wrung her hands nervously
in her lap. "I..." she broke off. "He never faints. That much I know." she
finally said with a strangely guarded expression.

Her evasiveness wasn't lost on Johnny. "Sonya, it's important that you tell
us anything you know so we'll know exactly how to treat him."

"I know nothing important. Please, you have to believe me.." Sonya said,
suddenly looking up as Chet returned with the circus ringmaster. She
nervously stood and lowered her head, refusing to meet her boss's eyes.
"Just take care of him."

The ringmaster was swift to aid the firefighters. "I've instructed the sound
crew to restore your radio frequencies to normal.  Do you need me to do
anything else?" The red coated ring master stopped in his tracks when he
saw who was on the ground. "Sonya?  That's Yuri.."

"Yes. It is.." the girl said defensively. "But he will go on without breaching his
contract. He is just tired, sir. I promise." she whispered. 

The ringmaster's face softened, not at all hard or businesslike. "He will perform 
only if these men say that he still can, Miss Skye. You know the employee rules 
as well as I do. I won't have him risking himself unnecessarily on the high wires."

"We know." said Sonya, still not looking up. "I'll come to your varda with his news
as soon as I learn it." she promised.

The ringmaster nodded and got out of the way of Stoker delivering the oxygen
apparatus as he departed the dining tent.


Roy looked up at Johnny a minute later.  Yuri lay covered in a fire coat with
his feet propped up on a trauma box. "Pressure's real low. Eighty palpated."

Johnny peeled back an eyelid around the oxygen mask they had going
on the young man. "Dilated." He drew out a penlight and used it. "Reactive."
Then he moved the mask aside and sniffed Yuri's breath."No ketones. 
Respirations are 22 and shallow."

"Does he need a nasopharyngeal airway?" DeSoto asked Gage.

"No. He's not down that deep." Gage answered. "He reacts to pain. See?"
And Johnny demonstrated by firmly pinching one of the man's achilles tendons
behind his heel. Yuri caught his breath, even though his lax, pale expression
did not change.

Roy nodded. "I'll contact Rampart." Then he smiled. "Thank goodness this
tent's only made of cloth. Our reception should still be good."

"Cap." said Johnny. "We'll need an ambulance for him. This is something more
than just a faint."

"No.." said Sonya, cutting in fearfully. "No ambulance! He will not want that."

Hank took the girl by the shoulders. "Sonya, the choice isn't in either of yours
or Yuri's hands now.  The state of California recognizes any unconscious victim
as giving implied consent for all emergency rendered care."

"We don't have insurance.." Sonya said quickly.

"Doesn't matter." said DeSoto. "Rampart Hospital takes in all patients, regardless."

"Please.. We can't go! We'll lose our place in the line up..."

Cap finally had enough and led the distraught aerialist away. "Let's go
get you something to drink. You look thirsty. It'll be a few minutes before Mayfair
arrives. Once they're here, then we can worry some more. Isn't Yuri's health the
most important thing to be considering right now?" Hank asked her.

Sonya finally relented and stopped pushing away from the firm hand Cap 
had on her shoulder. She nodded and reluctantly went with him.


Roy and Johnny worked quickly. Stoker had opened an I.V. of D5W with 5% Dextrose
at their request and had its line strung and already tube-bled free of air bubbles.  

DeSoto spoke quietly to Dr. Early. "Rampart, he's definitely an unknown unconscious.
There are no indications of previous trauma or signs of chemical dependent use.
But.. uh...the medical history from his girlfriend is.. uh.. cloudy at best."

##10-4, 51. Considering his age, vital signs and his otherwise good overall 
physical conditioning, go ahead and treat for hypoglycemia. Even if he might prove
to be later ketoacidotic, a little more sugar added to his system, won't injure him. 
If he does need that food boost to regain consciousness, then it's all good.##
said Joe over the biophone. ##Establish an I.V., 250 ml D5W 5% Dextrose. Run it
in for five minutes. If there's no reaction, give him a single dose of glucagon IM.##

"10-4, Rampart. 250 ml D5W 5% Dex wide followed by 1 milligram Glucagon if
no change is noted."

##Standing by, 51. Give me a new set of vitals and send me a strip as soon as
you can. I want to rule out cardiac involvement due to an electrolyte imbalance.
Specifically, I want to look for hyper or hypokalemia. I've found that people who're
top gymnasts, sometimes get sensitive to those two conditions while they're 
touring hard professionally.##

Roy agreed. "He is a member of a circus troupe, doc."

##Add 100 mgs Thiamine I.V. That'll lend you some momentum. Run that
through a saline lock, just in case we have to adjust his blood glucose
more aggressively.##

"100 mgs Thiamine, piggyback, with a saline lock." Roy confirmed.

Roy and Johnny soon had a flowing I.V. of sugar solution entering Yuri's
veins. The young man did not awaken.

"He's gotta be real low, Roy." Johnny puzzled. 

Roy nodded to his partner. "Let's administer the glucagon. If he's gonna snap
out of it, it'll be then." DeSoto said, picking out an orange case that contained
a single vial of powder and a sheathed syringe.

"What's that?" asked the bearded lady, finally returning with a blanketed
Sonya and Cap.

Gage smiled without looking up. "Glucagon is a hormone that the pancreas 
makes. It raises blood sugar by turning sugar stored in the liver, glycogen, into 
glucose, the kind of sugar anybody needs for a little brain fuel. Hopefully,
this shot'll make him come to."
 
Both ladies nodded and Cap finally left them alone to watch silently.

Hank watched as Johnny inserted the needle through the rubber seal disk 
on the glucagon bottle. Then Gage injected all of the liquid in the syringe 
into the bottle. Then he left the syringe in place and gently shook the bottle 
until the white powder inside of it had completely dissolved. Then he
handed the whole set up over to Roy.

DeSoto made sure the plunger was completely down to the zero mark
as he, too, shook the vial and needle, leaving his finger on the plunger 
to stop it from coming back up due to its vacuum pressure. Then he gently 
pulled the shot's grip out until all of the mixed hormone solution was drawn 
up into the syringe fully. Then he eyed it under a tent ceiling spotlight 
to be sure that all of the solid medication was truly dissolved.

Stoker carefully rolled Yuri over and pulled up one of his short's tights,
exposing skin. Roy swabbed the area down with an alcohol pad
and then gave the shot into upper, outer part of the man's buttock.

"Shall we draw a red top for the glucose level check the hospital's gonna
want?" Gage asked his partner.

"Yeah, let's do that next. Mike, you can let him back down now. Easy.."
said DeSoto, disposing of the spent glucagon needle into the sharps
bin of the drug box.

Roy was just about to stick an empty blood drawing vacuum syringe 
into the saline lock when Yuri came to. Violently. One second he was 
out and the next, he was talking and trying quickly to get onto his feet.

"Watch it! Watch it here! You've got a couple of I.V.s in!" 
Gage said, as he, Cap and Roy all tried to hold the man's wrists.
"Don't try to fight us or you'll hurt yourself.." Johnny yelled.

"Let go! I'm Yuri Komenche', it's Monday, and I'm in the food tent. Let
me go! I'm fine.. Get off me!" said the trapeze artist.

Hank, frowning, gave the order. "Boys, let him go. We can't restrain him
if he's fully oriented to self, place and time. And that he is, by self 
declaration."

Reluctantly, the two paramedics followed Cap's lead and let him loose.

"Good riddance. What IS all this?" said Yuri angrily. "Why am I stuck
with needles?"

DeSoto took his helmet off into one of his hands so he could wipe
perspiration off of his face with a napkin."You were passed out, 
Yuri. And you're even possibly coming out of a serious diabetic crisis." 
Roy told him, still holding out a couple of hands in the air, still 
worried about the I.V. lock hub and line hanging off the man's skin, 
where he stood.

"Me? Having the blood sugar disease?!" Yuri demanded. "I am not sick!"
And with that, Yuri swiped a few fingers and pulled out the saline lock
and the other dextrose catheter from both his arms. "I don't need these. 
And I don't need you to tell me what might be wrong with me. You are 
not doctors! That much I know!" said the thickly accented man.

Gage immediately changed his expression from tense to neutral.
"Yes, that's true, a paramedic is no doctor. But we do work through
one. And we've been doing just that from minute one, through 
this phone line." Johnny said, holding up the waiting biophone receiver.

"Makes no difference! Don't touch me." Yuri fumed.

"Yuri.. let's get out of here..." said Sonya, suddenly hurrying over to
her lover's side. Yuri blinked a few times, ridding himself of the sweat
running down into his eyes and he nodded firmly in agreement.

They turned to go. 

"Yuri, wait a minute. You're going to have to release us from our 
legal responsibility." Roy began.

"I just did!" shouted Yuri indignantly, grabbing up a cup of juice to wet
his mouth. He drained the whole thing and accepted another that someone
else handed to him.

"On paper.." Cap told him firmly. "It's called an Against Medical Advice form.
It'll only take a second..." said Hank, who towered over the diminuitive Yuri by
at least a foot. "Then you can go about your business as usual."

"Fine. I will sign them." said Yuri.

Gage stepped forward. "Will you at least let us put on a couple of bandaids? You're
bleeding all over the place." he said, pointing to where Yuri's I.V. sites used
to be.

Yuri looked down at his streaming arms. Finally he held them up with a shrug.

But Sonya shoved Johnny away. "No. I will take care of him myself!" she said
fiercely. A part of what she said was addressed to the silent, listening circus
crowd around them. 

Grudgingly, one by one, those other watchers nodded respectfully and left
them both in peace.

As Sonya twitched out of her blanket to give to Yuri, Johnny had one
more parting comment to make as he accepted his green pen back and
the signed AMA papers. "You do realize, the fact that he responded to
glucagon means that Yuri might be a new diabetic. Now that's a dangerous
state to be in without a doctor overseeing developments. Especially
for someone coming out of their first hypoglycemic crisis."

"He is not one. Do not tell us what we know not to be true." said Sonya.

She ended the conversation by leading Yuri off to their box car on the train.
"Come on, Yuri.. We have only three hours before we go on. Come, you must
rest. And eat." she glared at the two paramedics.

Once they were gone, the bearded lady leaned into Cap. "I thought he 
was real sick or something. Can they just leave like that?"

"They just did." Johnny replied flatly. "And we have no power to stop
them as long as he's still awake. Because this paper says so." 

"What a stupid document." she grumbled, drawing her furs more
closely around her sequined dress.

"Tell me about it." Roy capitulated.

---------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Photos:   None.

 
***************************************************
From: "patti keiper" <pattik1@hotmail.com> 
Subject: Coda
Date: Sun Oct 29, 2006 9:17 pm 


It was evening and the storm had long passed over the circus 
grounds.

The gang from Station 51 were still enjoying themselves off duty. 
Roy's wife, Joanne had even shown up with their children and the 
delight was glowing in their eyes while they laughed at the sights and 
smells happily unfolding around them. Their laughter made a 
joyful noise that infected all the firemen, causing them all to 
completely escape any thoughts of menial work. 

Johnny offered Chris DeSoto another clump of cotton candy.
"So.. Did your dad and I get stuck with a good enough work 
assignment detail or what..." he said, nudging Roy's young son in
the shoulder.

"You sure did, Uncle Gage. This isn't working, this is playing."
he beamed. "The rescue squad sure looks neat under all these lights."


"It does feel a little like the fourth of July, doesn't it?" Chet chuckled,
munching on warmed up caramel corn.

Johnny shifted on the star bangled bleacher seat as he stuffed more
pink sugar fluff into his mouth. "Hand the rest of this to your sister, 
Chris. She can't reach hers from over there."

"Ok." he said, tapping the much younger girl until he had her attention 
free from colorful distractions. "Eat up." he encouraged her.  "You're 
falling way behind the rest of us. Here. I'll hold your lemonade." he 
offered.

Joanne and Roy were knotted around one another as they leaned 
up against a supporting tent pole in a blissfully companionable hug.
Mrs. DeSoto leaned into him. "This is real nice. For once, your uniform
doesn't smell like fire smoke."

Roy chuckled. "You should have been here earlier. Johnny and I were
up to our necks in some of the stuff. We found ourselves right in the middle 
of flames, too."

"You were? Where?" Joanne grinned, peering at her husband suspiciously. 
"I don't see anything that's burned down."

"Oh. It wasn't a what. It was who. And he's not here right now." Johnny quipped,
looking at her with a smirk.

Joanne made a face, still seated in between the two paramedics. "I'll ask
more about that, later. Glad the kids missed that kind of spectacle."

"Oh, they did it ok." Roy remarked, kissing Joanne on the cheek affectionately.
"You see, they didn't toast just any guy. They smoked a clown."

"They what?!" Joanne laughed uproariously.

"Through his sportspages. And it was hilarious." Johnny said to her, 
finally over all misgivings about the stunt.

"I sure hope it was, for all the children in the audience's sake."

"Don't worry. They buffered our pretend rescue with generous doses 
of slapstick." DeSoto giggled.

"While we were slapping." added Gage.

Cap, seated and flanked by two miniscule DeSotos, opened his mouth
and out came a burst of rich toothy laughter. "Never thought I'd ever see
the day a fire horror was joshingly fun poked. Wish I could've been there."

"You just might get your chance, Cap." Johnny told him. "Mac the clown 
told us we were such a hit doing that, that the ring master ordered the fire 
scenario to be used every night for the rest of our circus's run."

"I just hope nobody gets hurt. You know I'd hate that." Joanne said.

"It'll never happen." Roy told his wife. "Not here. This is the circus."

Chet piped up. "Yeah, I passed a sign on the way in that said it all, Joanne."

"What did it say?" she asked Kelly.

"The Samson Brothers' Circus Extravaganza.. Defying death every day."


Mike Stoker spoke up eagerly. "Shush.. SHhhhh." he hissed. "It's starting."
he stage whispered. "I've been waiting for this act all night."

"Oh, yeah.. This is gonna be Sonya Skye's act next, isn't it?" Marco asked.

"Yeahhh.." said Chet breathily. "The... Birds of ...Paradox.. no." he corrected.
"..of..Paradise." he said, reading off his program myopically in the glowing 
darkness.

"There are gonna be two of them?" Hank wondered. "We didn't see a second girl
in the mess tent."

"We'll find out that answer soon enough." Lopez grinned. "Two pretty girls for the 
price of one? I can hardly wait. Sonya's costume was positively beautiful when I 
saw her dash by a couple of minutes ago backstage. All diamonds and red velvet."

A burst of ethereal music and the soft gushing of fog machines sighed as they
began to fill the circus canopy above them full of mist. Two long bolts of red chiffon
floated down from invisible heights in slow delicate tumbles. The hushed, warm
misty darkness was stabbed with dazzling sparkles as a spotlight lanced down 
and transfixed an athletically ballet posed Skye as she began her dance in
the air, suspended from the red cloth lengths.

The audience quieted, getting spellbound by the sheer grace of her movements 
and soft demonstrations of strength timed with the music. Everyone was
captived in a moment, caught in timelessness.

The music thunderclapped and harsh lighting stabbed the ceiling, illuminating
a platform far above the crowds that was lowering itself above Skye's red
tethers. A trapeze artist in peach leaped for a suspended swing tied
above him and flipped to perch himself onto it.

The two paramedics immediately got to their feet in shock. "That's Yuri! Oh
my G*d. He's trying to perform tonight?" Roy asked incredulously.

"Let's get down there. Maybe we can convince somebody that this is sheer 
craziness." Cap agreed. "He was in no shape to do anything tonight."

"Joanne. Watch the kids, we'll be right back." Roy told her.

The six firemen excused themselves and made their way quickly off the 
grandstand benches as they headed for the green room space 
behind the main performance ring.

They confronted the ring master as soon as they spotted him.

The older man held up his hands. "I know what you're thinking. But it
wasn't me who authorized the go ahead. Yuri's stubborn beyond belief
when it comes to performing. He must have used his emotional sway 
over Sonya and then tricked the stage manager. I told him no."

"What do we do now? His part of the act's already started." Gage 
fumed.

"There's not much we can do." said the ring master. "There are no
radios or speakers up there."

"Put up the safety net." Cap told him.

"What?" sputtered the ringmaster.

"You heard me. I saw the crew rigging it to fire up from under the sand 
before the show." Stanley said.

"I can't do that. It's a matter of professional courtesy to respect any
performer's wishes about how they want their acts run. Sonya and Yuri
haven't flown above a net for years." the circus boss insisted. "Everyone 
else will flay me alive if I betray their confidence. If I deploy it now
while their act's still going on, I - "

"Mr. Masters, he's a very sick man." Roy glared. "Yuri only looked like 
he was recovering. That's how glucagon works. It's only a temporary fix."
 
"Where's your triggering crew?" Cap roared. "His life is in danger!"

"I, uh, ..ok. Ok. I think Ike and Ben are over here. I'll - I'll go get them
right now." said the ring master nervously.

"You'd better find them. You'd better hurry." Hank yelled after him.
Then he turned to his men. "Are all circus folks this stupid?" he
asked Stoker angrily. 

"They do seem like any grunt that's ever come out of the fire academy." 
Mike grumbled. 

Roy and Johnny began to fret after they began hugging the curtains just
shy of the lighted entrance that led to the circus ring waiting for a miracle
to happen.

A scream rippled out just then. A single, high strangled yelp from a 
frightened little girl seated just beyond the curtain and it instantly froze 
the hearts of all the firemen.

Far above, Yuri's had slipped off his trapeze swing's bar after he missed
catching Sonya's supporting hand grip and his peach clad sparkling 
form was beginning to plummet like a limp rag doll to the ground. 

Roy and Johnny burst into a frantic run for the ring just as two circus
workers in black leaped for a red and white hand painted wooden lever
located alongside the main tent pole. It looked for all the world like
a railroad track control arm lever. It was the net's trigger mechanism.

But they didn't reach it in time.

Yuri struck the deep sand sickeningly from his original height of forty 
feet, and then he bounced up horribly into the air, suddenly a broken 
sodden mass.

Only then did the net finally pop up in a cloud of dust to form a protective
mesh cocooning around him as it elastically rebounded from the ground
on safety cables. Yuri was curled up into a ball inside of a second
smaller suspended net as the main one finished deploying like a trampoline
beneath him.

"Get him down! Get him down now!" Gage shouted to the circus men.

Sonya was the next to fall. She let go of her red cloth scarves and landed
on her back into the large net. Sobbing, she scrambled to the edge and
was helped off by stagehands and lowered to the ground.

She ran for Yuri as the firemen grabbed him as his net was lowered to
the earth.

The ringmaster made an immediate appearance in the center ring, 
gesturing animatedly. He was calling for a clown troupe. "A var! A var!
Send them in!"

Loud carnival music began and on his order, stunned clown performers
obeyed and began their act , ignoring the ring that was quickly darkened
next to them where the firemen and Sonya were kneeling over a gravely
wounded Yuri. 

The rescue squad was pulled up, lights and siren silent by hidden
assistants under the black cover of a blue filtered spotlight.

Roy looked up, and he minisculely shook his head at Cap while
he and Johnny began an effort of futile resuscitation while the others 
swiftly got a firm backboard and cervical collar into place. 

The endotracheal airway did not thread down, failing in the presence 
of damage from two collapsed lungs and multiple rib breaks. A doctor
ordered percutaneous needle cricothyrotomy was begun carefully in 
a pause between CPR sets.

Tears streaming down her face, Sonya took Yuri's blood
stained fingers into her own and she began to speak to him softly
with gentle words that desperately sought a warm tenderness. 
Sighing in pain and grief, Sonya's saddened heart quietly spilled 
out only pure love as the others listened while they frantically worked.


*OOC- Artist: Musical "A Little Night Music" Lyrics
           Song: Send In The Clowns by Judy Collins- 1975

*BIC-

"Isn't it rich?
Are we a pair?
Me here at last on the ground,
You in mid-air.
Send in the clowns.

"Isn't it bliss?
Don't you approve?
One who keeps tearing around,
One who can't move.
Where are the clowns?
Send in the clowns.

"Just when I'd stopped opening doors,
Finally knowing the one that I wanted was yours,
Making my entrance again with my usual flair,
Sure of my lines,
No one is there.

"Don't you love farce?
My fault I fear.
I thought that you'd want what I want.
Sorry, my dear.
But where are the clowns?
Quick, send in the clowns.
Don't bother, they're here.

"Isn't it rich?
Isn't it queer,
Losing my timing this late
In my career?
And where are the clowns?
There ought to be clowns.
Well, maybe next year."

--------------------------------------------------------

Audio- *song* Send In The Clowns- by Judy Collins 

***************************************************
From: "patti keiper" <pattik1@hotmail.com> 
Date: Tue Oct 31, 2006 9:25 pm 
Subject: Freedom Of Choice.. 

Johnny Gage got on the biophone as soon as the tenuous 
emergency airway was in and the EKG turned on. He found that 
he had to shout over the circus music cranked over the tent's sound 
system. Deep inside, he knew that distracting the kids in the 
audience was necessary, but another part of him was mad that 
the show was still going on as if the accident had never happened. 
"Rampart, the needle crich was partially successful. We've no 
chest rise visually discernable with ventilations by bag valve 
due to bilateral flail segments, but he is not suffering any gross 
cyanosis. More information, Rampart, Uh,...this is a traumatic 
cardiac arrest due to a fall taken from a distance in excess of thirty 
feet onto sandy ground. He's been fully C-spine immobilized in the 
position found. He struck dirt completely supine. Note, he did not 
land on his head."

Nearby, Marco was talking into the squad's HT. "L.A., Squad 51. 
We're requesting Life Flight to our twenty for a victim of a fall with 
extensive trauma. We've a male in his twenties currently in cardiac 
arrest...."

##10-4, Squad 51. 'Copter Two reports an arrival of three minutes.##
said L.A.

Captain Stanley nodded at Lopez. "Marco, go outside and pace
them out a safe landing zone. Make it a hundred feet by a hundred.
Use five cherry flares in a square with the fifth showing our location's
upwind direction. Get the area clear of any debris that might possibly
become airborne. Then notify the pilot of any powerlines or nearby 
radio towers and give him our wind speed along with a visibility report."

"Right, Cap." said Marco, running for a side exit from the tent.

##51, are you detecting a carotid pulse with compressions?##
came the bio-comm's reply following Johnny's report.

"That's affirmative, Rampart." Johnny told Dr. Brackett, gripping
the receiver in worried anticipation. He was very glad that his
stationmates had chosen this night to come to their circus gig. 
Their aid was proving invaluable in more ways than one. He could
feel their emotional professionalism buffering and calming him 
down despite the presence of Sonya's painful, knifing grief as 
she started crying out loud, in shock, next to them.

##Ok, then it may be that his aortic and pericardial integrity is
still intact without any significant ruptures. What's the scope 
showing?##

Roy took the phone from Johnny while Chet, Stoker and Cap 
continued Yuri's cardiopulmonary support. It took two of them 
to make sure the thin, needle threaded cricoid cartilage pierced 
airway stayed open and in place in Yuri's windpipe while CPR 
continued. "Doc, we've still got coarse v-fib. He's shockable."

##Place him into antishock trousers first before defibrillating one
time only. Ignore all limb and pelvic fractures when you use the 
suit and don't worry about movement in his back below the 
waist. His circulatory priority is first. Inflate both the M.A.S.T.'s legs 
and abdominal compartments as far as they go. His chances of 
making it back will be better if the worst of his soft tissue and internal 
bleeding is under control. Start two large bore I.V.s of Ringer's Lactate 
of 1000 cc's each into both carotid arteries and hand pump them in 
wide open. Turn them down only if infiltration PE develops and you start
to get more solution than blood on suctioning. If he doesn't convert 
electrically, 51, provide continuous CPR and crico ventilations during 
transit. Get him in here by the fastest means possible. I'll have a full 
surgical trauma team ready to meet you. Deliver 1 mg 1/10,000 
epinephrine IC and follow up with two amps sodium bicarb I.V.## 
said Kel.

"10-4, two Ringer's large bore, M.A.S.T suit priority, 1 mg of 1/10,000 
epinephrine intracardially, two amps bicarb, and defibrillate once. 
Stand by." said DeSoto. Inwardly, he agreed with the minimal shocking 
order. ::That would only further exacerbate any damage he's already 
taken. Our CPR's already doing enough of that on its own.:: he thought 
grimly. He tossed down the phone and accepted the long needled syringe
Johnny handed to him. "Cap, can you get her clear?" DeSoto asked Stanley,
tossing a sympathetic head at Sonya as he uncapped the epi's six inch
needle.

"Yep.... Stoker, stop CPR. They have it ready." said Hank as he knelt by
Miss Skye and gently took her shoulders. "Sonya. Come on, hon. You have
to let go of him for a minute."

"I can't leave him.." she sobbed. "He'll know that I let him go."

"Just for a minute. I don't want you to get hurt when we try to cardioshock Yuri."
Cap told her gently. He finally had to pry her fingers away from Yuri's hand. 
Then he used his greater strength to lift her to her feet by her elbows.

"No! Please.. Don't take me away...." she yelled. "It's not right!"

"It's for your own safety, Sonya. Now let's look away from him. I want to 
turn your back for a moment." Cap told her.

"Why?!" she screamed angrily.

"We have to give Yuri a heart injection. It's some medication that's very 
like adrenalin. It might be something you won't want to see." Cap gently 
explained.

Sonya immediately accepted Hank's shoulder into a hug, her mouth 
gaping open as he turned her away. "Yuri's truly gone?"

"Now we don't know that. Only a doctor can say what his condition is for sure. 
And that's only after every other possible option and medical treatment has 
been tried." Stanley explained. ::This whole code's being worked for her sake 
now. So she'll have some comfort about Yuri's passing later, knowing that we 
at least tried everything to help him.:: Hank thought.

Sonya's face twisted in stifled grief and she fell silent in his arms as she
buried her cheek into his jacket with her eyes closed. "I should have said
something to the ring master. And to you. Yuri does take insulin. He injected
himself just before we went on..." she squeaked.

Roy looked up in horrified discovery at that. He knew that Yuri's glucagon 
probably had had some side effects that caused a falsely high blood sugar 
reading following its use. ::That was only temporary, too. For a couple of hours 
at the most. Yuri must have injected too much to counteract what he thought
was a normal food high and that must have crashed him into a rapid low 
while he was still up on the trapeze. Oh,..of all the-- this whole tragedy could
have been completely avoided. If only he had listened to us...:: DeSoto
thought sadly.

Gage stabbed the epinephrine home and pushed the plunger. "It's in,
Roy." he said, pulling out the needle and checking its end to be sure all 
of it was still there and unbroken.

DeSoto nodded. Yuri's blood flecked body lifted under the paddles when 
Roy delivered his wattage in a shock at the lowest setting any adult needed. 
::120. That's the least harmful.::   Intently, he eyed the monitor. "Nothing...
Guys, start up on him again." he told the others. He picked up the phone. 
"Rampart, no conversion. His rhythm's degraded into fine ventricular fibrillation."

##Bring him in, 51. I'm afraid that's all you can do for him out there. Maybe we'll 
be able to do a little more for him once he's reached the hospital.## Kel encouraged.

"10-4, doc. Our ETA's eight minutes. The chopper's here." Roy said.

##See you soon, 51.## Brackett said, signing off.

Soon, Yuri was packaged onto a gurney and wheeled out of the circus
tent.

Roy's family came running up to the squad once they saw that DeSoto had
begun packing the medical gear Johnny didn't need on the chopper, away.

Chris couldn't contain himself and he ran into his father's arms.
"Daddy, is that man dead?"

"Yeah, I'm afraid he is, Chris. I won't lie to you about that. How's your sister 
doing?"

"She didn't understand. She thought it was part of the act as another one of
your mock medicals." the boy sighed. "Mom wants us to go before she
figures out what really happened."

"That's a good idea. Are you doing ok? Seeing someone die unexpectedly's
gonna be hard for while. You shouldn't've seen that kind of thing at your age,
son. I'm sorry it had to happen. I was..... hoping you'd be spared being 
exposed to something like that, until you were.... old enough to join the fire 
department." Roy told him, releasing their hug. Gently, he wiped Chris's tears
away.

Chris's face screwed up in grief. "Why couldn't you save him, dad?" he sobbed.

Roy's expression grew quietly sad. "Sometimes, you can't save somebody who
doesn't want to be saved. And that's all there is to it." he said, gripping Chris's 
shoulders to show that he was completely there for him. "I'll tell you about the 
dark side of AMA forms someday. It's something I see a lot of working as a 
paramedic. But we won't talk about that today. I think we've seen enough 
unhappiness already."

The younger DeSoto nodded bravely as he finally gave into his shocked 
emotions completely. Roy just took his son deeply into both arms and let him 
cry.

Twenty minutes later, Chet showed up to let Roy know that everything was
back in order as far as the squad and its equipment was concerned. He
noticed that Chris was a little numb and instantly, he understood why. He spoke
up loudly, with a grin. "Hey, fellas." he said to them. "Did you hear about
the fire at the circus?" he asked Chris, kneeling down next to him to offer
the boy an affectionate head rub along with a steaming hot chocolate cup.

"No." said Chris softly.

Roy started smiling.

"Yeah, man.. It was really "in tents." Kelly quipped.

Chris DeSoto's face split into a tearful laugh and soon, he found that his 
heart's pain had become.. just a little bit less.. than it was before.


FIN

Episode Thirty Eight
A.M.A.
Emergency Theater Live

-----------------------------------------------------------

Photos: None.

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

            
                            End Credits --  Episode Thirty Eight (Fifth Season)
                                      
                                              §§     A.M.A.    §§


                         :(  This episode is dedicated to circus performer Dessi Espańa,         :(
                              an aerial silks artist who died on May 22, 2004 in a fall when
                              the chiffon scarves upon which she was suspended broke free
                              from the ceiling during a performance in Minnesota. EMS workers 
                         :(    there did absolutely everything possible to save her, but failed.    :( 

 
 
The Story Unfolds...

Season Five, Episode Thirty Nine..
 
 §§     Burnout    §§
 
Debut Launch: November 1st, 2006. 

**************************************************
From: "Pat or Cassidy or Jeff" <voyagerliveaction@yahoo.com> 
Date: Fri Nov 3, 2006 5:01 pm 
Subject: Wrong Side Of The Bed.. 


The only thing happy and bright in the kitchen at Station 51,
was the sunlight pouring through the early dawn windows.

"Say, Roy?" came a sleepy voice from the other side of
the sun soaked overfull eating table.

"Yeah.." said DeSoto, frowning in concentration as he carefully
placed and organized items from the squad's drug box out
onto the table. Syringes, vials and needles were lined up
row by row in front of him and his monthly inventory sheet.

"I'll give you twenty bucks if you take over writing this week's runs
in the fire station log book for me." Gage frowned, still cracking 
open a crusty eye over his steaming, untouched coffee mug. 
"I honestly think... I won't be able remember them all."

Roy grinned, peering myopically at his notation slate. "Six one hundred
milligram syringes of Thiamine, two bottles of nitro... Johnny, in all
fairness, that's not my chore or problem today. It's yours. I've got enough
of a headache for one morning updating our drug box to Dr. Brackett's
new expectations."

Johnny's reaction was mild, where he still slumped shirtless in his
chair. "No, I really mean it. How many calls did we get last night?"

Hank Stanley came whistling into the rec room and immediately 
stopped in his tracks, pegging Gage with a glare for still being out 
of uniform.

Wordlessly, Johnny reached around a shoulder and grabbed his
ironed shirt from where it had been draped over the back of his chair 
and waved it in the air in self defense. "It's right here, Cap. I'm set for 
another call. My helmet's even been polished. Did that a couple of 
hours ago after that pregnant lady puked all over it." he mumbled, 
"Or was it right after we...got back from the....last fire call.." he yawned.
"Or?...Wasn't our most recent an MVA?" he blinked in surprised 
forgetfulness.

Chet Kelly, walking by on his way for the coffee pot while he buttoned
up his shirt after his sixth shower of the morning, made a face."Boy, are 
you off today. We had a cardiac, Gage. A street bum, lying in his soggy 
*ss cardboard box right where the cops found him on the corner of 
Macalester and Franklin."

Johnny frowned, still ignoring his caffeine source. "Did he live?"

Roy sighed in irritation.
"Yeah, he lived. We got his PSVT back down to normal with just a little 
adenosine." Then DeSoto bit his lip, cursing softly under his breath. 
"Oh, d*mn. Johnny, I think we forgot to replace that when we picked up 
supplies last hour."

Johnny reached into the open still unpacked I.V. case and pulled out a 
new box of Adenocard. "I remembered. I never forget a supply item. 
Habit built up from dealing with the endless parade of psycho supply 
nurses we've gone through at Rampart over the last five years."

"Oh, that's just terrific, pal. I'll take that." said Roy sarcastically as he 
grabbed it out of his partner's fingers. "Next time, put it back where it 
belongs when you get handed a new one. Now I gotta start my work sheet 
all over again. And these carbons, too. I thought I was done inventorying 
all the cardiac meds."

Chet grinned. "Are you sure it's not like you said, Roy? That it's not your 
problem?"

"Kelly, you hush up." said Cap, from over his newspaper. "Or you'll be on 
the rosters come Monday for updating the fire logs instead of Johnny."

Kelly wisely kept quiet and he hid behind the couch long enough to 
scratch Boot behind the ears where the dog lay dead to the world. ::Huh. 
Even Boot's tired from getting all worked up and barking in excitement every 
time we've gotten a call out.::

"Chet, why don't you make yourself useful and go get the address notes out 
of the squad for Gage." Hank added, without looking up.

"Aw, Cap. They're scattered all over the passenger cab, full of I.V. tape 
or held down with post it notes. A few of them are probably even....stuck on 
the bottom of Johnny's shoes or something because he was dumb enough 
to keep stepping on the pile he's still got lying in the middle of the floor." 
Kelly complained.

"Chet, take it as a gentle request if it pleases you to think it wasn't an order.
Then go get him the log book out of my office with a couple of pencils. Make
sure nothing's got ink in it." Hank said no nonsense.

"Thanks a lot, Cap." Johnny minced, finally burning his mouth on a large gulp 
of his coffee. "Your faith in my penmanship ability is astounding.. AH! Owww."

"It's not your writing I'm worried about. It's the accuracy. You said it yourself 
that you'd be a little absent minded today when it came to recalling rescue 
details." Cap shrugged. "Marco, go grab him some ice and water for that 
scald of his. Last thing I want to see is him moaning about being in pain as 
well."

"Right, Cap." said Lopez, getting up off the couch for the frig. "Roy, I'll get it.
Don't get up." he said, slowing down as he passed by the table so the wind
from his body didn't blow DeSoto's carefully crafted notes off the table.

Johnny miserably accepted one of the popiscles Marco handed him that the 
firemen usually kept for hurt kids coming to the station. He unpackaged it, 
and put it onto his scorched tongue without looking at it. He made an 
immediate face when the flavor of grape knee hi startled him. "Yuck! 
Aren't there any banana ones left? There were six of them left in there last 
night." Then he opened narrowed eyes, looking for a popiscle thief.
Gage's lips tightened when Kelly began to sink down behind the couch again.
"Oh, Chet. How could you? These things are only supposed to be for injuries."

"Oh, really? In that case, we'd be buying up a whole ice cream truck's worth 
of them just for you, due to your poor-staying-healthy-while-on-the-job track 
record. Quit being such a klutz with hot coffee all the time and maybe the rest 
of us won't be forced to keep eating them all behind your back out of sheer 
frustration."

Cap's eyebrows went up over the newspaper and immediately, Chet beelined
for the vehicle bay to carry out his Cap-ordered instructions to the letter.

--------------------------------------------------------

Photos:  None.

**************************************************
Date: Wed, 8 Nov 2006 07:19:35 -0800 (PST) 
From: "Sam Iam" <lafddispatcher@yahoo.com>   
Subject:  The Best Defense... 


Roy felt probing eyes watching him as he made his way out to the
garage half an hour later. He turned around on instinct in midwalk 
and discovered that he had gained a four legged shadow, one who
was tailing him patiently.

"Hiya, boy." he said to the shaggy station dog. "Nothing's gonna
turn out fun or even be terribly interesting here. Maybe you 
oughta go find Chet and see what he's up to. Nobody's seen him
since Cap let loose a steam valve."

Boot just continued to sit neatly at his feet in between the
engine and squad, all the while wagging his bushy tail
happily.

Roy DeSoto sighed as he finally put away the new drug box into its 
storage slot compartment inside the squad. "O.k. suit yourself. Don't 
say that I didn't warn you. I'm gonna be boring." he told him. Then he 
rubbed his chin, thinking. ::Whew.. I'm glad that's done. Now all I have 
to do is add my new notes to the usual fire department manual 
pharmaceutical footnotes and then type up a couple of my master copy 
inventory sheets for Dr. Brackett and Chief McConnikee to look over. 
Shouldn't take too long. Maybe an hour at the most if we don't get any 
rescue calls coming in.:: 

DeSoto stretched tiredly as he regarded Boot who was still focusing 
all of his attention on him to the exclusion of all else. Roy looked around
self consciously. "What?" he asked the dog. "W-Why are you still
bugging me? Are we about to get another squad run or something?" 
he asked, glancing at the still darkened klaxon light positioned over 
the kitchen door.

Bark! said Boot, still regarding Roy's face mischieviously. Then the
dog disappeared under the engine and dragged out his heavily tooth 
shredded chunk of knotted rope. He trotted over to Roy with it in his jaws.

"Oh, so you wanna play. Sorry, Boot. But I'm afraid I'm gonna haveta pass
on your invitation. I'm completely bushed. We've been up since yesterday
morning. Nobody's even slept yet." Yawning, Roy joined Boot by the engine 
and moved to sit wearily on the Ward's step runner so he could scrub the 
dog's ears affectionately with his hose water chapped hands. "We've gotta 
save our energy for folks who really need it, ok?"

Boot looked up and licked his nose once with an understanding whine before
he scrambled off animatedly to go do something else.

Roy felt his eyes growing heavy and he stretched out right where he was
on the long chrome runner board and soon, he started snoring as a too long
delayed sleep claimed him almost immediately.

--------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

He awoke with a startled cry when the tones went off right over his head. His 
hands slammed down on something hard and meshed that was pressing in 
around him as he went to sit up fast. "Ow." he shouted as he sat up in newly 
alarm call lit surroundings. His ears were making out the sounds of the rest 
of the gang scrambling for their jackets.

"Not for us. Engine call." came Johnny's sleepy voice from somewhere nearby
as L.A. droned out the effected address over the intercom.

"Oh, *cough* o.k., thanks." Roy blinked and opened bleary eyes in confusion. 
Frowning, Roy looked at where he was with light squinted eyes. He found 
himself lying in a spare stokes stretcher that had been cast haphazardly 
onto the bunk he usually took next to Johnny's. "What the h*ll? Is this you 
getting back at me for us guys building you a hanging stokes baby cradle 
during your bout of insomnia last year?" he asked angrily.

"No. We just thought you'd be more comfortable lying in your own bed instead 
of lying on the engine. You were out so we figured this was the best way 
to move you without waking you up from a nap unnecessarily." Johnny told 
him, his head still buried under his pillow. "Geesh, of all the ungrateful--"

"Sorry. Thanks, Johnny. Uhhh.. I'm still out of it a little." he said, with all of 
his limbs hanging limp and splayed spread eagle outside of the basket 
stretcher he lay in.

"So are we all. Join the club." grumbled Gage as he rolled over to his other
deeply blanketed side. "Now shut up so I can get back to sleep."

Roy didn't even fight the suggestion. His eyes closed and moments later 
he was out like a light for the second time as soon as the real ones finally 
extinguished themselves after the engine's call out had completed. 
Reigning silence took over the bunk room as it was returned to its 
previous state of shade pulled darkness.

--------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

##Engine 51. Garbage fire at the dump. 1304 South 5th Street. 1304 South 
5th Street. Cross street Main. Time out: 11: 56.##

Hank Stanley winced when he and the others staggered out of the bunk room
and into the bright noon time daylight streaming into the bay as the garage doors 
automatically slid open to release them. He had to grab twice at the mic in the 
alcove to give his acknowledgement as he arm covered his watering eyes as 
they got used to the strong sunlight around them. "L.A. Engine 51. 10-4. KMG 
365.."

He climbed into the cab next to Mike Stoker who already had his helmet on.
"Mike, is this Mac Donner's operation again?"

"Yep. This is the third garbage fire he's had this month." replied the engineer 
as he glanced into the rear view mirror as the others piled in. 

"Glad it's gonna be his last." Stanley growled. "The state gets to close
him down now for ignoring multiple fire violations and a court summons."


In the back, Chet was struggling into his seat belt.
"Aghh! I was in the middle of the best dream I've had in weeks. Boy is 
this kook gonna get a piece of my mind. I'm gonna--" Chet began.

"Chet, we don't need another citizen's complaint filed against the fire department
for mouthing off. No matter how well intentioned. You're gonna hold your tongue." 
Hank said no nonsense. But then his face grinned slightly. "But on the other hand,
we all know how unpredictable old hoses sometimes get. Who can say when 
one of 'em might burst open into a million pieces."

"Hey..., yeahhh. Can't blame us if it happens near a property owner after he's
gotten too close into our faces while interfering with a fire call." Marco smiled.

Stanley set his face into an even line. "O.k. Let's rig up that second unnecessary
hose. Guys, you know which one."

"The one on the bottom of the hose bed we've been conveniently forgetting to 
change out just so we could nail this bozo someday?" Stoker chuckled. 

"That's the one." Cap nodded. "But you didn't hear it from me." he winked.

"This will so be worth getting completely soaked to the skin this time." Kelly
grinned.

"Remember, it's all gotta look like it's an 'accident.' " Cap said ironically.
"So there'll be nothing for which we can get legally pegged. Especially if
the cops wanna be there to oversee our fire for gathering their final evidence 
to invoke Mac's official property condemnation."

"We're the best in the county, Cap, or so you keep telling us." Stoker said, 
rounding the Ward into another turn on the boulevard. "Relax and enjoy
the view. We promise that Mac'll never see it coming." and he cracked his
knuckles over the engine's steering wheel.
 
----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Photo: Roy sitting on the engine's running board in the bay.

Photo:  Boot in close up, sitting by the engine.

Photo:  The gang getting up for a bunks call.

Photo:  Roy and Johnny talking from their bunks.

Photo:   The gang laughing over a stokes cradle joke.

Photo: A junkyard fire.

Photo:  A hose burst involving Captain Stanley and Chief McConnikee.

**************************************************
From: "chameleonkate01" <chameleonkate@hotmail.com> 
Date: Thu Nov 9, 2006 8:59 am 
Subject: Right In Your Own Back Yard.. 


Roy and Johnny awoke to the sounds of all the showers turning
on in the bathroom. 

::They're back.:: Roy thought. DeSoto looked at his watch. ::That
didn't take long. I wonder how pointless that fire call really was.::

He sat up about the same time as Gage and stretched, sitting yoga
style in the stokes that the gang had given to him while he slept.  

Johnny yawned, eyeing up the steam drifting across the ceiling from
the shower room. "How's your back after that thing?" he frowned in
sympathy.

Roy blinked a few times, self analyzing while rubbing an eye.
"Great, actually. Always figured there was a reason they designed 
these things the way they did. C-spine protection, huh? It works.." 
Roy mumbled. "Did you sleep any? You still look whacked."

"Yeah." Johnny replied. Then his wristwatch shot up to his face. 
"About an hour. Just enough to take the edge off I guess."

A loud audible growl rumbled into the air between them.

"Was that your stomach?!" Roy chuckled.

Gage shot to his feet, not bothering to help Roy as he struggled to 
untangle himself from his sheets and the stokes. "Maybe. It is after 
lunch time. And I'm starving. Who's turn is it to cook today?"

"Cap's."

"I wonder what he got from the grocery store." Johnny wondered, 
slowly shuffling past the desk, heading for a sink so he could wash 
his face.

"Probably something meat and potatoes, like usual." DeSoto said, 
finally standing.  

"Let's hope so. I could use a meal with a 'hearty' label." Johnny sighed.

Bark! said a bedspread covered Boots from the vicinity of Chet's bed.

Both paramedics startled badly. They hadn't been expecting Boots to be 
anywhere else but under the kitchen table or the engine, while he took 
a snooze like he always did around station mealtimes.

Roy recovered first. "Huh. Guess someone else got a little tired, too."

Gage leaned on the doorway for support while he waited for his pounding
heart to settle down. "If I faint in a few seconds, don't wake me up again.
This whole day's been an absolute nightmare. I could use the sudden 
break."

Roy frowned, scratching an itch under his T-shirt while he sleepily 
figured out what arm to put into which hole in his uniform shirt. "It has been 
a harrowing day. First the bad delivery, then the alley bum coronary, and 
all those cat-in-a-tree calls."

"Please don't remind me." Gage moaned.

Roy didn't hear him. He went on with his thoughts. "...Not to mention all 
the dumpster and garbage fires the rest of the guys seem to be getting. 
I think that last one was their ninth since yesterday morning."

"Ouch... That many already? Cap's gonna be a bear thinking about 
all that wasted tax payer money. We'd better watch out." Johnny told him.

Just then, Hank Stanley entered the dark bunkroom in a shower towel 
and waved up the lights, laughing up a storm as he scrubbed his clean
hair dry with another towel. The rest of the gang came out of the steaming 
bathroom on his heels, and they were just as unexplicably happy.

Gage and Roy looked at each other mutely, their mouths hanging open. 
Finally, Johnny tempted the devil. "Uh, how'd it go guys?"

"Great man! It was a sheer masterpiece." Kelly crowed.

"Yeah, one of the best knock downs I've ever seen. Nice work fellas." 
said Cap, patting the toweling off Marco, Stoker and Chet on the back 
in congratulations.

"The way the fire was put out?" Johnny asked incredulously, perching 
his boxer shorted butt onto the desk near the bathroom door. 

Roy agreed with his puzzled partner. "Yeah, I thought this was a trash fire. 
Those are usually kinda messy to handle any way you slice it."

"No, guys." said Stoker. "We're talking about the way Mac Donner went 
down after the marked hose KO'd him. He landed right in the middle of a 
mud puddle. It was so sweet."

Johnny's lightbulb finally came on. "Oh, so we finally got our long 
plotted instant revenge for all our dumb responses to Mac's place 
to put out all of his illegal burns?"

"And how. Looks like ol' Donner's a goner. And so's his junk yard."
replied Marco, sliding into his pants.

Cap nodded, his eyes twinkling. "Yep. The cops sided with us this 
time. Permanently." said Hank.

Johnny collapsed into the desk chair and spun the goose neck lamp 
around gleefully. "Man! It's about time he was put out of business. 
All I can say is that bit of news sure feels good. Makes me kinda wish 
I could've been there to see that secret hose trap finally get sprung."

"Go see Vince. He was there. He'll tell it better." said Chet, pulling on his
socks. He ignored Boot's attempts to nose his way out from under the
bedspreads where his butt was pinning them down. "You snooze on my
bunk,..you lose, Boot. Now you gotta wait until I'm done to get out from
under there." he told the shoving blanketed lump.

They all heard a snort as Boot finally gave up blanket opening seeking 
as he re-collapsed back down again behind Chet's bare back to sulk.

Stanley clapped his hands together. "Ok, I'm gonna go fix us all some 
lunch to celebrate. Who's gonna help me?" he asked brightly.

The rest of the guys melted into the shadows, feigning being tied up with
the serious business of getting back into their uniforms, or making their 
beds.

Roy was the only one who remained attentive. "A chore assignment 
given is a chore assignment taken, Cap. Your own rules." he shrugged.

Cap pursed his lips, suddenly thoughtful."Guess that one's not such 
a good one any more, eh? Why not?"

"Because it's one of McConnikee's. Kinda dampens the cooperative spirit. 
You saw the effects of it right there." said DeSoto, turning to make his bed. 
He sidled around Cap afterwards with the spare stokes in both hands to 
go put it away.

"Ok, I'll make a few changes on next week's roster to fix that." said Hank, 
as he followed DeSoto out into the bay.

Captain Stanley popped the main door open so they could clear out
the extra humidity from the locker room. "Smell that fresh air."

"Nice. No brush fires to speak of." Roy agreed.

The two firefighters whirled when they heard eager claws scrabbling on
the concrete behind them as Boot made a beeline for the outside. He
skidded to a halt by the flagpole as he quickly lifted his leg to p*e on 
it.

"Oops." said Cap, making his way out to Boot's side to pet him in apology
once he was through relieving himself. "Sorry, boy. Guess we forgot to
let you out this morning." said Hank, balancing on squatted toes in the 
driveway. He saw that DeSoto hadn't followed him. ::He must be coffee 
bound.:: Cap decided.

A muffled boom shook the air and knocked him onto his butt. Instinctively,
Hank grabbed Boot into his arms and huddled protectively over him as
bits of debris and burning embers coated his shirt's back and hair. He 
swept them off himself and the dog instantly once the realization of 
suddenly falling under fire danger sank in.

Cap looked up in horror as a spreading cloud of black oily soot and shooting 
flames suddenly engulfed one of the Arco refinery's pumping towers across
the street. Its cone of destruction started climbing high into the verdant blue 
sky. 

He scrambled to his feet once the concussion had passed."Roy! Guys?! 
Anybody! Call in a Priority Code Red! There's fire at the arco plant! 
Something's blowing up over there big time!" 

-------------------------------------------------------------------------------- 

Photos: None.

**************************************************
From :  Patti or Jeff or Cassidy <theaterhost@voyagerliveaction.com> 
Sent :  Thursday, November 16, 2006 7:42 PM 
Subject :  The Rising H*ll... 

Mike Stoker shouted from the bay, an HT already perched on
his shoulder. "Cap, where are they gonna stage us?" 

Stanley swung his head once more over the bouvelard as
he began walking backwards up the driveway, hastening 
Boot back into the station with a sweeping gesture. "Let me 
figure that out." Hank bit his lip in apprehension as he studied the
brand new smoke plume. "Huh,..Looks like everything might be 
involving the compressor pipes pumping gasoline to the Shell 
oil distribution terminal!" he decided, shouting loudly to Mike. 
"Looks like the westmost main pipe juncture hub's blown. That's 
gotta be very near one of the holding tanks. Looks like flames
are almost touching number twelve."

"Twelve's heavy crude, Cap. That one's filled with three million 
gallons at the most on the weekends. Southeast at three 
quarters of a mile it is." replied Stoker. "I'll park us upwind."

Hank nodded when he saw the rest of the gang piling into
the vehicles. "L.A. might turn the station into a command post,
gang, so leave the big doors popped open. Boot can keep out
anyone not allowed in. We'll know more once Chief Conrad's 
been updated. Let's get to Alameda along 405's bridge to get 
to a better vantage point. Most likely we'll only be starting the 
evacuations for now until we're told more about what's going on."

Overhead from the bay speakers, and through their vehicle radios, 
L.A. droned out assignments. ##Division One, Battalions 1 and 4. 
Trucks 246, 18, 99,.. Foam units 5, 127, 14 and 205...Stations 51, 
110, 24 and 8,.. respond to a fourth alarm at the Arco Oil Refinery's 
west end Catacarb terminal in Carson. 1700 Pacific Coast Highway 
and Wilmington. 1700 Pacific Coast Highway and Wilmington. 
Cross street, San Diego Freeway, 405. Time out : 13:31.##

They all heard Battalion Chief number 4, Conrad, report in. ##L.A., 
Battalion Four on Tach Two. Give me a second rundown on all 
mobilized equipment.##

L.A. dutifully repeated the called out units.

Marco sighed from his seat in the engine. "Why do these fires seem like 
they only break out at the biggest Complex oil refineries in the area?" he 
complained, pulling on his helmet as he got into the Ward La France 
as fast as he could.

Mike shrugged. "Maybe it's because they've more exposed works that 
can get fouled up during processing." he said, turning the ignition. 

Chet thought out loud. "Didn't Carson West just get those additional 
experimental units to crack the heavy gas, oils and distillate oils into 
lighter forms of that funky new kind of higher octane fuel the county's 
eventually switching over to?"

"They sure did. And those are located right near where the fire is." Cap 
grumbled. Inwardly, he began hating all over again the looming fire 
fighting tactical problems the refinery always raised in their monthly 
station meetings. 

##Cap, I'm afraid it'll be an even bigger headache than we're figuring, 
once we get over there.## Johnny said over the radio as both trucks 
pushed through the panicking traffic careening on the avenue, and 
started heading for their destination.

##Oh?.. How so?## Hank radioed back.

##I read they put in a new pipeline last month running aviation fuel to 
LAX directly.## Johnny toggled back.

"Terrific..." Hank frowned, never taking his eye off the smoke billowing 
up and spreading out over Arco. 

A few minutes later, they had arrived. Hank could see two oil depot 
trucks fleeing the area. "Stoker, cut off one of those escaping drivers. 
Let's see if we can get an insider's report and any casualty figures."

Stoker blasted on the engine's airhorn and waggled the Ward in their 
lane as the squad did the same thing in front of another truck hauler as
the four vehicles met each other, going in opposite directions on the 
empty, commuter deserted freeway.

The closest fuel trucker squealed tires into a near panicked instant 
halt, after he understood the fire department's unspoken visual message.
He got out of his turned off truck with a nervous glance back at the 
ominously rumbling, blast stricken refinery as he ran over to Captain 
Stanley.  

The gang immediately noticed that he was covered head to foot 
in crude oil and tiny metal fragments. Explosive dust.

"Mister, are you hurt?" Hank asked, grabbing the man by the shoulders 
after he climbed down out of the Ward's cab.

"No.. *gasp*...no.. Steve and I.... we...had to drive under a ruptured line 
to get our loads outta there before they blew up, too." said the man. 
"I'm just wet from the leak. I'm not burned."

"All right. Ok. But we're gonna check you out anyway. Come over here."
Cap sat the man down on the engine's runner. "What's the product 
involved in the fire? Anyone else hurt?" he asked, guessing correctly that 
the man was lying about his true condition when the trucker almost 
toppled over without seeming to realize that he was feeling dizzy. 

Mike Stoker held him up with a supporting glove against his chest
and started taking the trucker's pulse at the wrist.

Hank looked up as Roy and Johnny laid their own tanker driver down onto 
the ground next to the squad. Roy shouted. "He's ok, Cap.." shouted 
DeSoto, from where he was huddled over the man. "Just a little smoke 
inhalation."

"Mine's got bumps and bruises. His breathing's fine." Hank fired back.

"Ok.." replied Gage, breaking out some oxygen for the first man.
"One of us will be right there."

Stanley's victim coughed and started shivering in reaction as he 
answered Cap's question. "N-Nobody else as far as I know, past my 
friend. It's.. light grade gasoline getting treated with the company's 
usual oxygenate, methyl tertiary butyl-ether." He nodded gratefully 
when Marco wrapped him in a warm woolen blanket.

Hank swore softly. "MTBE.. I'll be glad when that finally gets phased 
out and replaced with clean ethanol next year."

The trucker went on with his account.
"My manager said a hydroskimming juncture in one of the desulfurization 
processing units suddenly froze up on his monitor. My guess is that 
fumes must've ...built up in one of the basic topping units and ruptured 
a relief valve." The oil soaked man's face fell open in shock. "Oh, my 
G*d. Did the spark plugs on somebody's truck set off the initial 
explosion that took out our oil's transferring line?"

"Anything could have triggered that, sir. Absolutely anything. Static 
electricity... A hammer's blow... Maybe even an unknown chemical 
reaction. We may never find out what actually started this fire 
because of all the heat involved so don't start pointing fingers at 
any fellow truckers just yet." Hank smiled. "It's probably not gonna 
end up being your fault."

The man in Cap's arms slumped against the fire engine and he finally 
let Stoker wipe the oil out of his eyes with a gauze pad as the engineer
quickly examined him for problems. Stoker reported the man's vitals.
"Cap, pulse's 130 but regular. Respirations are 22. He's got just a small
cut on the top of his head. There's a piece of metal embedded inside. 
I've pretty much stopped the bleeding from it."

"Ok. I'll pass that along." Hank replied.

The trucker started crying with dry eyes. "I ...we..did what Marve 
told us to do after all the sh*t hit the fan. He snapped out our emergency 
orders from the manual and then we just concentrated on getting all our
fuel trucks way the h*ll out of there. These two are the last to leave."

"Marve's your manager? Where is he now?" Hank asked, looking up 
at the spreading fiery mess the pipe leak was making of that part of the 
plant.

"I don't know. I don't know... Ah..." he rubbed his grease covered forehead, 
thinking hard. "Last thing I heard was.. *gasp* Yeah. Marve said that he 
was going to go up into one of the distillation towers to see if it had
taken on any damage.."

Hank sighed in frustration at the news. He lifted his HT to his mouth. 
"Engine 51, Battalion 4. An employee has just reported that 
a refinery manager may have gotten himself trapped inside one 
of the cooling towers in the immediate hot zone. He says the fire's 
directly involving the west side depot's pumping terminal currently 
running off tank number twelve. In jeopardy is straight crude oil and 
light gasoline treated with MTBE. All the terminal's manned fuel 
transportation trucks have been evacuated."

##Battalion Four, Engine 51. 10-4. What's your current status?##

"We're with two minor injuries on a pair of truckers. Both conscious."
said Stanley.

##Engine 51, I'm sending in Squad 8 to take over for Squad 51. 
They'll finish handling your victims. I need you and all of your men 
to get into air bottles and go find that lost man. You're closest. 
According to Arco's head spokesperson, he's the only one missing. 
If you deem the risk is too great, at no time do I want your station crew 
or vehicles to enter the fire zone. I have Aircrane Helitanker 47 in route 
in about one to do an initial recon to determine our overall burn situation. 
He'll be directly visualizing your search and rescue attempt from the air.
The pilot's on HT channel Tach One and he is in a communication's 
relay to us. I have Truck 127 going in with you for foaming cover.## said 
Chief Conrad. ##Command Post is located at your station house.## 

"Engine 51, Battalion 4, your orders are understood. Squad 8 is now 
on scene. We're clearing." said Hank into the radio as he watched
Johnny and Roy trade oxygen apparatuses and care notes with the 
paramedics from the second rescue squad. One of the new fire medics 
jogged over to Mike and led the dazed trucker away over to his medical 
gear so Station 51 could drive off. He wished them luck with a couple 
of superstitious knuckle raps over the number on his helmet.

"We're gonna need it." said Chet as he watched eight's crew recede into
the distance. They heard the squad's called in ambulance going by the 
other way long before they ever saw it through the thickening smoke.

Ahead of them, they could see tongues of flames shooting hundreds 
of feet up into the air under a dark and dense rising mushroom cloud.  
It was prevented from dispersing by an air inversion's capping effect. 

The fireman knew that all flights were now being diverted away from
the airport for the duration of the fire.

"I'd be lying if I said I wasn't really scared right now." admitted Marco 
out loud to the others in the engine. He could only marvel at Roy's
bravado as the squad ahead of them sped up even faster as they
approached the monster fire.

"That's all good. That'll just make you careful." encouraged Cap. He
too, was swallowing around a pair of dry lips as they drew closer to
the melting, ignited depot.

"Yeah, we're all gonna be scared half to death in there." repeated 
Marco, as he put on his air bottle and tightened all of its straps.

Kelly gulped then, suddenly as seriously calm as was possible for 
him. "Fellas? What happens if you get scared half to death twice?" he
mumbled through his flowing air mask.

--------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
 
Dixie McCall walked into the nurse's lounge whistling happily. She was 
about to get in a whole fifteen minutes communing with a coffee pot.

As she entered, she saw Kel Brackett seated on the couch in his street
clothes. "Kel.." she said. "I thought you went off duty ten minutes ago.
Why are you still here? You should be at home already." she chuckled
pulling down her favorite mug from the back wall full of them next
to the fruit vending machines. Then the smile wiped off her face when 
she saw that the cigarette in between his fingers hadn't yet been alighted. 

Dr. Brackett barely afforded his head nurse the slightest glance.
He pointed to the television set that was turned on before him."That's 
why." he told her, indicating a news broadcast currently showing live video 
being taken from a news reporting helicopter that was circling high over
somewhere close to the hospital. "Looks like most of the Carson refinery's 
going up into smoke. Won't be long before all of us off duty are notified 
of this in a full blown hospital wide disaster call."

"I thought I smelled something new in the air eating lunch outside in the 
cafeteria. Guess it was wishful thinking on my part to believe that stench 
was just magnified smog due to the still air weather inverting overhead."
Dixie sighed. "Want me to get the ball rolling?"

"In a minute. First, I want to learn how many casualties we're likely to get."
said Brackett as he turned up the volume as a couple of interns piled
into the room. He shushed them quiet with a hiss, pointing. They gathered
in around the nurse and doctor right away when Kel beckoned to them.

Thoughtful and worried, Dixie sank down on the cushions next to Kel to 
watch the news report a little closer. Her empty coffee mug tumbled out
of her hand and onto the couch, completely forgotten.

The voice from the aging, red tubed tinted television set continued.
##The fire, which police believe was an accident, could burn for days. 
Police have advised all civilians not evacuated from the mandatory 
two mile radius around the Arco refinery, to keep their windows and doors 
closed because of possible toxic fumes. Thick clouds of smoke are 
continuing to spread to the north-east and north-west of the site... 

##The risk for further explosions remains high. NBC's Gavin Hewitt said 
about 100 firefighters are waiting to attack the blaze. Fire chiefs are 
consulting with oil industry experts about the safety of using millions of 
gallons of fire retardant foam to quell the blaze. Fire Chief Conrad was
noted a few minutes ago to say they needed to know they had enough 
foam before they could even begin to fight the fire...

##An Arco spokesman has said there is no indication yet on whether or
not the explosion will cause fuel shortages and the police are 
warning the public against panic-buying... 

##Meanwhile samples of smoke are being taken to determine the long 
term effects of exposure, if any, according to Dr. Joe Early, one of
the head physicians at Rampart General Hospital....##

Kel shifted uncomfortably. "Joe's already in on this?!"

"Shh, I want to hear what he has to say, Kel. Now shush." said Dixie.

Kel moused down, still held by an intense concern over the unfolding 
dangerous situation.

On the TV, it was disconcerting to see a live report broadcasting from 
the ER entrance that they both knew was just outside the nurse's lounge 
door.  

The silver haired doctor smiled into the camera. ##...however, what I 
want to restate is that those people who are most at risk right now in
Carson, are those people who have inhaled the smoke.The small particles 
in the smoke, which contained hydrocarbons, can be an irritant but they
have extremely low toxicity and are not expected to cause any long-term 
harm.  As long as it doesn't rain, the smoke in the atmosphere won't 
come down tonight or even, by morning. Myself and the rest of the hospital
staff are well prepared to handle any medical cases or injuries related
to the fire. Now if you'll excuse me, I've got to prepare my staff further.##
said Joe as he pushed past the camera to go back inside the hospital.

With that, the airing story cut over to the news anchor once more.

##At LAX airport, some flights are being forced to delay landings because 
of thickening smoke, but Long Beach airport still reports normal operations.##

The view cut over to a sudden interruption on the live helicopter feed behind
the newsman. A spokesman for Arco began to speak as his transmission cut
in... ##We are doing everything we can to support the emergency services 
and to bring the situation under control. Had this happened a little later during 
the working day, some of these offices you're seeing that have been window
shattered would have been full of people; there is no doubt that this would 
have caused dozens of deaths if it hadn't of happened during the middle of 
most people's lunch hour. Some early media reports spoke of eight fatalities, 
but these are completely and utterly false. All members of the staff from the 
terminal have been accounted for, except one. And there is a fire crew 
working the site now in an attempt to locate him.##

The man was overwhelmed when others off camera began demanding 
questions. There was a brief scuffle as other network reporters closed in 
on the man's podium. Seconds later, the TV feed was deftly returned to the 
newsroom.
 
##About 227 schools across the greater Los Angeles County area as well as 
libraries and other public buildings are being closed for public safety. 
Police and local authorities are advising residents to consult public radio
101.3 FM for up-to-date evacuation information. The Los Angeles County 
Fire Department has requested that all schools should be closed within 
a 10-mile radius of the incident site, due to concerns involving the smoke 
plume and children's health.  

##Ten thousand people or more in the immediate Carson and Wilmington 
residential neighborhoods are currently being evacuated from their homes.
Emergency services are asking residents in the more distant smoke-affected 
areas to close their windows and doors and stay inside. The Sheriff's 
Department is now asking people who have houses with smashed windows 
to seek refuge with friends or family nearby if possible.

## If you need shelter, agencies are standing by to place you in area hotels, 
and shopping centers. Shell, the main operator of the Arco depot, has 
set up a helpline for people whose properties have been damaged by 
the explosion. They have called in local authorities and the Salvation Army 
to provide accommodation or other help for those affected by this
afternoon's refinery explosion... The number to call is...##

Kel Brackett flicked the TV set off. "Let's go, everybody. I've heard enough.
Dixie, make sure the Condition Orange has gone out to all off duty staff.
Turn on the Fire Department's live scanner at the Base Station. I wanna know
about any incoming casualties the moment they do."

"Right, Kel."

"Oh, and Dixie?"

"Yeah?"

"Get those news reporters out of my ER, stat.  This is a disaster situation. If
they aren't out of here and in the parking lot under two minutes flat, call the 
police and have them start making public nuisance arrests for illegal trespass."

"Gladly." said Dixie.

Everyone abandoned the nurse's lounge and began preparing for the worst.

---------------------------------------------------------------------

Photo: Cap peeking over the engine cab door.

Photo: An oil covered worker.

Photo: Roy and Johnny treating a downed man.

Photo: An aircrane helitank dropping foam on a fire.

Photo:  A massive smoke plume on the wind, eyeball level.

Photo:  A refinery fire, two tanks ablaze and black smoke.

Photo: Station 51 entering a region of fire with a hose.

Photo: Kel Brackett and Dixie watching TV in the nurses' lounge.

**************************************************
From: 'Dr. Jeff Seltun' <finiterider@yahoo.com>
Date: Friday Nov 24, 2006 9:41 pm 
Subject: Pressure Cooker..

Captain Stanley swallowed around his dry throat in his scba mask. 
"Ok, Mike. This is close enough. Stop right here. Chet, Marco! Get that 
fire pond gate open! Draw from there using the high pressure snorkel 
impeller and start sending water into the bund surrounding this first 
distillation tower. The chief's already ordered a second Erickson 
Aircrane to be a remote nurse tender refill tanker for us should we run 
dry. Call in the S-64 on Tach Three when you need them. Truck 127's 
gonna be our safety net with plenty of foam!"

"Ok, Cap.." said Kelly and Lopez, climbing out of the Ward in their
flowing air bottles and masks.

Roy and Johnny met Hank in a meeting by the road where Stoker
was quickly laying covering hose. "I take it we're gonna search 
this one first?" asked DeSoto, coiling two bundles of thick rope onto
his shoulder. 

"Make it fast." Cap nodded. "The air's rapidly turning volatile. You have
ten minutes! Keep in touch with me every minute." He pointed into the
inky black and smothered sky. "Aircrane 47's gonna follow your 
progress the whole way up and down with a primed foam cannon. At
the first hint of trouble, rappel the h*ll out of there!"

"What's this guy's name?" Gage shouted over the roaring hiss of fire 
and the helicopter's whirling rotors.

"Marve." 

"And his job?" Roy asked, wondering if their missing man could prove to be
a plant worker whose location and refinery experience could aid them by
sharing knowledge about potential hot spots.

"He thinks he's a manager!" Hank growled in frustration.

"Not any more, he doesn't... He just became our next victim." Johnny 
said. "Roy, let's go. Cap, once we're at the top, we'll holler for the stokes!"

"Don't tie yourselves up any yet. Let's make sure we're not risking 
all our skins rescuing a corpse first. That second tanker's a little too close 
for comfort." Cap told them empathetically. "I'll have some spare air bottles 
sitting on the hood of the squad." he shouted as Stoker primed a hose and 
began aiming it at the base of the climbing ladder the two paramedics would 
be using to cool it down.

Chet was ducking unconsciously as thick clouds of inky, oil scorched smoke
turned bright middle day into the blackest night as they swirled down
on top of them from the fire's location. He was more than just a little uneasy.
"Say, Marco.. how many gallons does this mother tank hold again?"

"Three million. Tops. Won't be a problem if we don't let this side of it 
feel heat enough to buckle." grinned Lopez through his mask.

"So says the Jiffy Pop popcorn kernel to the fireplace right before the 
big foil lid raising event." Chet joked tensely.

"Think ice cubes, Kelly. Helps a heap." said Stoker through his air gear.

"Right.." said Chet nervously as he helped Lopez cover Roy and Johnny's
way up the tall concrete processing tower. He licked away a trickle of sweat
that dripped down his nose in a rivulet. ::Gage. DeSoto. Make it fast.::
he thought.

----------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Photo:  Captain Stanley giving out an order under a pipeline.

Photo:  Roy and Johnny gearing up with air bottles and ropes.

Photo:  A refinery fire creating night darkness at noon.

Photo:  Aircrane helitank shooting foam through a cannon.

Photo:  An emergency fire pond sign.

Photo:  The gang moving through fire and ductwork outside.

Photo:  A tanker pumping foam onto a damaged oil reservoir tank.

***************************************************
From: 'Roxy Dee' <laterrapincabesa@hotmail.com>
Subject: Prep Work~~
Date: Date: Sun Nov 26, 2006 9:01 pm 

Roy DeSoto tried not to think about the raging fire that was growing 
around them. "Johnny, I'll go first. I'm bigger." he said, peering up
the distillation tower's climbing ladder as he searched for loose bolts 
and for any recent structural damage it might have suffered.

"Why is bigger always better?" Gage griped in annoyance. "Small and lithe 
works just as well in any climbing situation 'cause that kind of firefighter,
can worm himself around just about anything that gets in the way." he joked
with some pride as he reflected on his own abilities. He grunted meaningfully 
as he readjusted his snub's rope as he got into a safety belt at the entrance
to the climbing tubule.

Roy rolled his eyes through his air mask in a look of long suffering.
"Hmm... Gravity was still working last time I checked, junior. Think about it.
If you fall, I've enough mass to catch you, even with you in your air bottle 
carrying those two extra spares."

Gage ignored his glib comment. "Yeah, but I grabbed the drug box first. If
that guy's up there, and not breathing, he's gonna need this epi, fast."

"Epi's impotent without some manual pipework initially, and you know it.
And either one of us will do for his mouth to mouth if any's needed." Roy sighed,
craftily shoving his partner aside with a broad shoulder to grip the first rung 
of the ladder that was before them, stretching above their heads. "I'm gonna 
be your anchor without a fight. So live with it."

"Like I had any choice?! ..Huh... You know, there's nothing like dishing out a 
psychological noogie or two when offering a guy a little encouragement, pal." 

"I don't need it. Having the chance to save a life every day is all the carrot 
dangling I've EVER needed. And the same goes for you, too, junior." 
DeSoto shouted down to him through his face plate.

Gage finally chuckled, quickly following after him. With a free glove, Johnny 
pulled out his HT. "HT 51 to Aircrane 47. We're on the tower. Are you seeing 
signs of a possible victim up there yet?"

##Aircrane 47 to HT 51. Stand by...##

--------------------------------------------------------------------

Photo:  An Erickson Aircrane helitanker hovering over an oil tower.

Photo: Roy beginning a roped climb up a ladder.

Photo: Gage lowering himself down in ropes in a tube.

************************************************** 
From :  Roxy Dee <laterrapincabesa@hotmail.com> 
Sent :  Monday, November 27, 2006  5:40 PM 
Subject :  Making like Bat Man~~

The thrumming chop of the helitanker hovering above echoed
eerily with an open mic'd frequency whine as long seconds ticked
by. The two paramedics kept moving upward swiftly, each listening 
to the hiss of their own solitary hard breathing, as air whistled in and 
out of their scbas' regulators. 

::Come on... Come on, Mr. Hot Shot Pilot...:: Gage mentally urged. 
::Those tank reservoirs nearest us aren't gonna be behaving themselves 
for much longer. Not with this much fire around. :: he thought, eyeballing 
their surroundings in a quick assessment. He could feel their looming bulk 
pressing in acutely. Johnny started imagining that he could hear their steel 
shell drums beginning to groan under the insult of the fire's concrete bound 
conducted heat. He startled badly when they began doing it for real.

*Ping--nnNNGGgg.. Phoofffff-ff....*creakkKKK..kkk* said the metal.

Truck 127 stepped up the volume of their foam production hastily. That
station's silver hazmat suited fire crew quickly re-aimed their primary 
working cannon to where the voice of violation spoke the loudest. 

Battalion sang out new orders. ##That was tanker nine. Shift your attack! 
All crews: Shift!!  Don't let her get hot. Aircrane 30, smother the east side 
housing pipes leading to the pumping station of Reservoir #9, a.s.a.p. ! 
We don't want to develop a vapored gas leak from there. Foam 205, take
over for Truck 127 on cooling tank twelve. Station 51's in its immediate 
vicinity.##

##10-4, Battalion Four.## said the second chopper crew. ##Foam drop
on Junction Nine West in one.##
 
The second called upon unit responded to their hail. 205's captain 
immediately replied to Chief Conrad. ##Copy. Be back-up for 51 on oil 
Tank #12.## There was a pause of radio over the sounds of the burning 
fire. Then... ##Engine 205, L.A. Position change.. We're now a quarter 
mile east of the San Diego Freeway near Alameda Street at Arco 
entrance Tango 1-1 Charlie, flanking Station 51. Crew of eight.##

##Foam 205, location and number of personnel, affirm.## replied L.A.

Squad 51's pair looked up a short time later as the reassuring shape 
of a new Aircrane dipped in close to them and her sistercraft and released 
a satisfying cascading payload of white fire retardant from her underside
tank hold.

Roy couldn't wait any longer. He switched to Johnny's talk channel with 
47's pilot. "Aircrane 47! Victim status! Do you have a visual?" he shouted
through his face glass plate at his HT.

There was a long delay as the entire fire effort that was water curtain
framing a half mile of inferno, stepped up its aerial and ground foam attacks.

Gage started coughing with exertion just as their pilot re-initiated contact. 
##Aircrane 47 to HT 51. Affirmative. Your victim is on the first worker access 
platform ring on the west side, facing sunward. He's non-moving at this time 
on his back but he is without apparent limb fractures. Unable to confirm as still 
alive due to blocking smoke on our wind.##

"That's all we needed to hear, 47. Copy: Found victim is physically intact
on sighting." said Gage to the helitanker. 

Roy and Johnny quickly opened the meshed gate encasing the access 
ladder and stepped onto the narrow maintenance grill ringing the oil stack. 
The two air bottled paramedics ran to where they could see the very
sooty refinery manager sprawled half on and half off the platform. Roy
hauled his upper torso back to safety using the front of the unconscious
man's shirt gripped in two hands.

Then DeSoto peeled off a glove and dug a few fingers deep into the
groove running along the man's neck. "I've got a carotid." He shifted an
arm and laid it across Marve's chest. "And he's breathin.. So far, he's 
doing ok." he shared with his partner in a thumbs up.

Gage lifted his radio, crouching down to open the manager's shirt with his 
free hand to expose his chest so he could monitor him while they waited 
for equipment. Johnny got on his hand held radio to the ground. "HT 51 
to Engine 51. Heads up! We're going a rapid extrication. We are 
on the first tier facing into the sun at your two o'clock."

Hank Stanley replied on Main. ##Engine 51 to HT 51. 10-4. Sending up Kelly
to assist with stokes. Do you want an airlift pickup?##

Roy swung his air masked helmeted head as he glanced at the air space 
surrounding the tower."Negative. He's a rappel down. Smoke's too thick 
up here for clear navigation."

Roy reached into his jacket for an oral airway when Marve didn't react to
a sharp sternal rub. He inserted it over the man's tongue and settled it into
place in between his teeth. Soon the blonde paramedic began to search 
for signs of severe blood loss on Marve. He found none at all. "Looks like 
he's dealing with just some smoke inhalation, Johnny. I'm not finding any kind 
of injuries on him." Roy reported. "Breathing's at ten and getting shallower."

"I'll get his air bottle set up." Gage replied. He glanced down the ladder
at a loud clang. He began chuckling. "And here comes Chet. Looks like 
he's thought up another cockamamie plan. He's actually dog sledding 
the stokes up along behind himself using a waist tether." 

"He uses what works." Roy snorted as he fitted the smoky manager face
and head into one of the spare scba air masks on high flow. "Marve's bottle's
on top flow. Started at ..14: 06."

Johnny set his watch on timer. "Got it. T-minus ten from...mark. Our own bottles
will be dry in seven and a half, give or take."

"Relax, I am keeping track of our own breathing room with my full attention." 
Roy said, placing Marve into anatomical position for easier stokes loading. 
"I can't wait to get out of here. I don't enjoy being inside of a powder keg."

"Amen to that." said Johnny, rising after feeling for a pulse quality on Marve.
"He's 122 but steady down to the brachial. At least his BP's holding." he said, 
placing their drug box under Marve's raised feet to help with thwarting shock. 
"Is he nauseated?"

Roy place a hand on Marve's exposed stomach, feeling for any indication of 
tightening involuntary muscles. "Not yet. He's not down very deep pressure
wise past your eighty systolic pulse location estimate. His shorts are still dry."

"Let's keep him on his back then." Gage agreed with a nod.

First thing he did was reach for the plastic wrapped yellow shock sheet Kelly
had strapped into the empty stokes.

"How's he doing?" Chet said, passing off another extra air bottle to Roy from
his free shoulder. DeSoto grabbed Chet's arm and helped him out of the ladder
cage.

"He's breathing. Got a little too much smoke we're guessing. He hasn't started
coughing yet using his cleaner air." Roy told him, hooking a thumb over to the 
scba mask strapped over Marve's face. "No injuries."

"Guess we won't be needing this then." said Chet, tossing a disposable 
cervical collar over the side of the tower rail. He shouted into his radio.
"Heads up! Debris coming down!" he warned the firefighters below. "That'll
make 'em smile and tell how good our victim's save status is."

"You're impossible." Roy grinned.

"I always aim to please." gulped Chet. "Did you hear on Tach One? Nine's 
heating up now along with our buddy tank number twelve. Foam's not 
working."

"We heard the tactics change from the chief. What's our escape route?"
Johnny asked Kelly.

Chet rapped a few knuckles on the side of the tower meaningfully.

"What?! Chet, you're kidding me. There are no lights on inside
of there. They've cut all the power. How are we gonna be able to see 
the ladder rungs well enough to climb both us and him down out
of trouble?"

"Chief said we can feel our way down using our feet as testers easily 
enough with him strung from a central pulley off an eyebeam somewhere."

"That's insane. Nobody thought to bring up any flashlights." Johnny 
exasperated.

"Gage, look. It'll be no sweat, man. We're not gonna be groping around
very far. There's a small internal room about twenty feet beneath us that 
serves Arco's HVAC as a utility space next to the drawing mother pipe 
that's got a tunnel access that lets out onto the highway. The tower crew's 
saying our way down's only a little like a missile silo." he offered in 
sympathy.

Johnny's expression remained stony.
"Just great. The only escape option made available to us is a 
completely blind vertical." Gage complained. "Roy, remind me
later about why I joined the fire department, would ya?"

Chet shrugged as he helped Roy lift Marve into the empty stokes in order 
to strap him in. "We gotta have somewhere to go to get away from all
this heat should we have to. It's better than inviting a victim barbeque
lowering Marve here down on a rope along the outside. He'll bake.
You know that. You saw all those flames. They're probably already
coming our way and licking this tower as we speak."

"Fine. Fine." said Gage. "Let's go. The sooner we all leave, the happier
I'll be. I'd rather keep thinking about that Snicker's bar I left sitting on the 
squad's dashboard than dwell on how many ways we all might get blown
up into a million pieces."

"Nice carrot reward, Johnny." Roy quipped. "If I get down there first
ahead of you, can I have it? I'm starving."

"Would you just shut up and go grab Marve's foot end." Johnny growled
hefting up the head of their victim's stokes. Already, he could feel the
day's crushing bone aching fatigue, settling in.

"Anything you say." Roy winked.

Kelly got to work piling the three extra air bottles and the drug box 
in between Marve's shock tarp covered legs.

---------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- 
 
Photo: Roy on HT with scba, scared.

Photo: An Erickson aircrane dumping foam. 

Photo: Chet in turn out in a close up.

Photo: The gang with a victim stokes on  a metal tower.

Photo: Cap listening and glancing up, in scba.

Photo: A fire engine stringing hose at the Arco refinery.

Photo: Hazmat firefighters in silver firesuits, in a hose attack.

**************************************************
From: "Patti" <pattik1@hotmail.com> 
Date: Fri Dec 1, 2006 7:13 pm 
Subject: Just Like Jiffy Pop.. 

 
Chet got on his HT. "I'm there, Cap.  We've got our man bundled up in 
the stokes and we're just about ready to start on our interior descent route. 
How're things looking so far with the spread of nearby fire?"

##Hold on, pal. Chief Conrad's still checking in with our other companies. 
The next update will come in half a mic." replied Hank over the radio. 

"All right. Standing by. Cap, it's probably a safe bet that our radios won't work 
well once we're all inside." Chet panted, still trying to catch his breath after the 
long climb up the tower. "I'm seeing galvanized heavy carbon steel up here."

Hank replied back. ##Yeah, I agree. Spotty at the best. That'll depend on the 
tower's metal shielding and the presence or absence of ventilating airshafts. 
We'll cross that broken bridge when we get to it. Your top priority is getting 
yourselves and your victim out of current danger. If that tank near you decides 
to blow..##

"Copy. Hustle the muscle. I'll tone a triple toggle on your channel 
just before we close the door."

##I'll be listening for it with both ears.## said Cap from far down below.

Roy started work on the locking mechanism attached to the only maintenance door
located on their walkway's level which led to the distillation chamber shaft above the 
mechanical room and its escape tunnel. DeSoto began using his jacket halligan
as a wedge to try and loosen the hatch's access wheel.  It began to give only slightly 
with a painfully resistant, dry, fire heated creak. 

Gage moved to help Roy with his own jacket tool on the other side. "Chet, stay by
Marve's head and keep monitoring his breathing. Some bad chemical's in all this 
smoke." he hissed through his scba mask.

"I noticed. It went from mostly gray to almost all black with flecks of brown on the
way up. It couldn't have smelled very good to Marve before we got him on this air."
Kelly said, tightening the straps over his own face and the manager's where it lolled
in between his sooty knees.

"He's gonna get into cyanide and carbon monoxide issues real soon if he hasn't 
already." Roy added, grunting as he and Gage strained against the wheel. 
"Can't wait to get a couple of hands on some oxygen."

"We'll be down in ten minutes, Roy. Just keep your eye...... on the squad." joked 
Gage to encourage him as they both struggled to turn the door's hatch mechanism.

Blinking away sweat, Roy did so, strictly for the mental perk.

------------------------------------------------------------------------------------


Marco Lopez took a wrong turn running a fresh set of air bottles over
to Cap and Stoker where they stood beneath Roy and Johnny's tower.

He startled when a small white building he hadn't noticed before caught
his attention. Part of it was turning yellow on one side from some kind of watery
cascade and it began to glint eerily under the smoke smothered daylight. He 
hastily backed up behind some protective pipework and started broadcasting
over his HT on Emergency channel. "Bund leak! Chemical rupture at 51's 
location! Out building twelve east. Pressurized liquid gas is escaping."
  
Then he ran for his fire engine and the squad his crewmates were already 
preparing to speed away.

"How bad is it, Marco?" Cap asked when he spied Marco flying in out of the smoke.
"Can we get Roy, Johnny and Chet down and out safely before the fire reaches 
that gas?"

"No. We don't have even two minutes. An overflow valve's failed. The gasoline 
pool's already dozens of feet in diameter and a tendril's headed right for our 
burning terminal, flowing downhill. That area's inaccessible to the helicopter. 
There are too many pipes in the way." Lopez said, helping Stoker drop the 
charged hoses off their pumper valves to free the Ward LaFrance for escape.

That was all the news Hank needed to hear. He boosted his handheld's gain 
to maximum. ##Engine 51 to HT 51. Get under cover! Major blow on the way!## 
Cap told his paramedics.  ::D*mn! All we can do now is flee with the rest of the 
fire truck companies for the bridge protected upwind part of the freeway.

At the same time, the chief took Marco's hasty visual report deeply to heart.
##Battalion 4 to all fire crews. Evacuate immediately. Explosion at 
tanker 12 is imminent! Everybody back! Get back!##

Cap slammed his cab door shut as he radioed Aircrane 47 on their channel.
"Pull up! Explosion coming!"

##Aircrane 47 copies. Abandoning.## and the helitanker lurched away from Arco
and the distillation tower.

Roy and Johnny noticed the sudden lack of rotor blade noise. "Uh, oh." said Gage.

Kelly leaped at the bulkhead wheel, throwing his additional weight onto the
struts. Frantic, Johnny hefted up an air bottle and hammered it down onto the
wheel gear again and again to break away its rusty corrosion. "OSHA's gonna
have a field day up here..." he grunted.

"I think they already are." said Chet about the fire surrounding them. "Third fire
in eighteen months? Heads are gonna roll.." he strained.

"But hopefully, not ours!" said Roy.

All three firemen fell to the metal decking when the wheel gave way at last, 
suddenly functioning. They scrambled to their feet to crank it around into 
'open'.

The hatch clanked open with an echoing bang as Chet gleefully signalled
success over his HT by pressing the talkie's attention button in a triple hail.

Just as fast, a smothering deep belching gurgle, heralding an inferno, swept
up the tower as tank number twelve annihilated itself into monsterous h*llfire.

"Get down!" Johnny screamed as the heat and light from the explosion rocked
them. The punishing lick of a giant fireball scintillated past their ducked heads
and folded limbs, reducing the railing above their shoulders into red hot slag.

"Get him in!" Roy hollered, grabbing Marve's stokes and manhandling it into
the dark hatch. Johnny barely had the lowering ropes tied to the inner turn
wheel of the door when they dropped him to hang head up and dove inside.

Roy gasped as his gloved fingers almost lost hold of the rungs of the interior
ladder. Gage grabbed him by the collar and hooked both legs around
a support. He latched on Roy's lifebelt clasp to a rung. "I got you.. AhhhHH!
Quit kicking. You're locked in!"


DeSoto froze after his feet and gloves found anchor. "Where's...*cough *cough*
Chet? I thought he was right behind us!" he shouted through his air mask.

Johnny ducked his head back outside under the flames and peered about.
Chet was lying eight feet away from the hatch on his stomach. He had
been sandwiched face down against the wall from the force of the explosion. 

Gage blinked at the searing horrible mushroom cloud roiling into being over
them and quickly looked away to save his eyes from flash burning. He grabbed
Kelly's arm and began hauling him towards the hatched doorway and safety.
"Chet?...*cough* Can you hear me?"

Kelly remained limp as his jacket started smoldering. Johnny realized with
a shock that Chet's air mask was punched in, and his air hose, shredded
beyond any usefulness. He shoved Chet's head inside the hole."Roy! Grab 
him. He's out! He's got no air!" Johnny yelled.

"Got him!" 

Gage felt Roy snick Chet's lifebelt connector to the stokes rim as he flopped
inside and fell into the tower like a rag doll. The two paramedics slammed 
the hatch shut just as a huge new wall of fire boiled into the place they 
had just left. Outside, blazing suddenly orange and white, the metal walkway 
ring melted, slagging away from the tower stack. 

"Are you ok?"  Roy gasped at Johnny through his sweaty mask.

"I think so...*ughnn* All in one piece I think." Johnny said.

Building plasma began fusing the hatch door to the bulkhead with 
hissing pops and deafening snaps, causing the door to bow in
at the edges, admitting flames.

"Down, move down! We've got to get to that protected room now." he
choked. "Before we run out of free air. Chet's maskless."

Hastily, the two paramedics strained on the ladder, lowering the weight
of two men and the air bottle laden stokes down onto the roof of the 
maintenance room with a couple of hand held ropes.

As soon as Chet and Marve touched bottom, Roy and Johnny slid down
the ladder sides like a firepole.

Kneeling, Johnny ripped off Chet's shattered face plate as he bent
down over Kelly's nose and mouth. "He's breathing. Barely."

"S.I. for sure." DeSoto said. "Marve's still the same." he said, placing 
a hand on the manager's dirty chest.

The firefighters were horrified to find that they could see in the darkness.
The many rivetted seams of the tower's inner skin were becoming 
unsealed by the tremendous heat outside, admitting an eerie arc weld
like phosphorescent yellow glow as their sulfur soldering burned away.

"In..  Get them in!" said Johnny. "There's toxic fumes out here."

Using ropes tied around the stokes and looped underneath Kelly's 
arms, Roy and Johnny got both men inside the maintenance chamber 
through the room's roof access hatch. 

For a second time, a heavy steel door closed down and locked,...
and this time, the darkness was absolute. Roy pulled off a glove
to feel the air's temperature on the skin of one trembling hand.
 "It's cool. Safe enough to breathe." 

Coughing and choking, Roy and Johnny peeled out of their
helmets and air masks and they toggled their regulators to 'off' 
to conserve their bottles' air for a later need.  

The two paramedics flopped down and lay on their backs, 
spread eagle, gasping in utter exhaustion.

Gage acted first once he found he could move past the cramps.
He rolled over and pulled one of the spare air bottles and
masks out of the stokes to use on Kelly. Quickly, he pulled off Chet's
smoking shirt to end any chemical burning. He stopped peeling off 
layers when Kelly's T-shirt underneath revealed itself by touch
to be still whole and undamaged. "We need better light to 
see how they're really doing. Maybe we should try and open that 
vent up there."

"Not yet. The explosions are still going on. Feel that?"
Roy asked him.

Dimly, Gage felt shudders and shifting as the tower rocked, as 
it burned, its exterior paint fully on fire. He felt off balance at every 
jarring. ::Is that in my head or outside my body?:: Johnny thought.
"Unfortunately, I still can." he grunted as an answer.

"At least we know the tower won't collapse on us." Roy said.

"How do know you that?" Johnny said, monitoring Chet's coratid pulse.

"I know that because it hasn't yet." Roy told him with a grin. DeSoto
bent over Marve to determine his breathing condition once more.
"Marve's inhalations are weaker. Gimme the drug box."

Johnny groaned as he groped around blindly until he found it.
He thrust it out into the general direction of Roy's voice. "Here."
he said. "How long do you think our air'll last before we find ourselves 
stuck breathing out of our scba gear?"

"Hard to say. This isn't like a brush forest firestorm at all. The fire's
stationary. It's burning in one place."

"Maybe the action of the fire burning inside that blown tanker'll.....
act like a chimney for us, pulling in fresh atmosphere into the tower 
through the gaps." Gage hoped.

"Johnny, you absolutely astound me. Are you trying to be optimistic for 
a change?" Roy chuckled.

"Oh, why don't you just hush. Of course I am. That's better than.. than..than...
thinking we're all gonna die horrible deaths in here." Gage said in 
exasperation.

"Perish the thought."

---------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
Battalion Four immediately conferred with Hank Stanley. 
"Are you sure you've heard from them?"

"Yes, Chief. Absolutely. Chet fired off a triple pulse just before the tanker 
blew. That means they made it inside and--"

"...that your men are still well enough to take that escape route through the 
tunnel..."

"...and get out to us on the freeway intact. Yes." Cap completed for him.

Conrad sighed, long and wearily around the sweat on his face. "Tell me
frankly, Hank. Do they have enough self contained air for all of them to 
make it out still breathing?"

"That depends on the fire, Chief. And whether or not those explosions are
compromising their underground tunnel or not." Stanley said, rubbing his
sooty mouth.

Battalion nodded. "I'll concentrate both Aircranes' foam drops over your
men's mapped route. Anything we can do now will cool the ground above 
them and help cut down rock and regolith buckling."

"Thanks, Chief."

"Don't thank me yet. Thank me when we have three live firemen and a live
victim firmly in our hands." he frowned seriously.

---------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Photos: None.

************************************************** 
From: "patti keiper" <pattik1@hotmail.com> 
Date: Sat Dec 2, 2006 7:09 pm 
Subject: The Defining Hour.. 
 
Roy snapped open the drug box and unsandwiched the organizational
trays. "Blind as a bat." he complained, grumbling. "I can't find the 
epinephrine, Johnny."

Gage coughed. "It should be right there." he said pointing somewhat 
blindly himself. "On the top shelf. Left hand side with the adult doses 
to the right of the peds ones with the 1/1,000's sideways and the
1/10,000's stacked vertically."

"They're not. Trust me."

"Well, why not?" Gage needled, bending over to listen to Chet's
lungs with an ear laid against the skin of his chest.

"Because I completely reorganized the drug box on Dr. Brackett's orders 
this morning, remember?!" Roy snapped. "And neither one of us has had 
time to memorize where all the new things are yet." In frustration, he 
dragged out a pocket mask from his turnout and pushed it into usable 
shape with his thumbs. He tossed it onto Marve's stomach as a standby.

"Hang on a sec." said Johnny. Gage reached over and pulled out
a gauze 4 X 4. He rolled it up into a tube and tore the paper off one
end. He dipped it into a puddle of oil that had dripped in after them
and waited a few seconds until the gauze acted like a wick and sucked
up the crude into its cotton fibers. Then he touched the soaked tip against
an ember still smoldering on Chet's stripped off turnout coat.

A small flame ignited with a poof on the improvised brand he had made.
"Wahla.. one tiki torch, free,.. at no charge." he joked flatly, handing it over.

Roy regarded him with squinty eyes.
"You've started watching Adam-12 episodes again, haven't you?
This is what Officer Jim Reed does when he finds himself
pinned down by snipers at night." Roy smiled, poking the bottom end 
of the bizarre candle into an un-plungered un-needled syringe barrel 
so they could hold onto it without burning their fingers.

Gage didn't say anything. "Chet's not the only one who can be
resourceful at times." he said matter of factly, then he picked up
his head. "Roy, he's got rhonchi, both sides, with some serious
spasming. Give me an albuterol inhaler canister."

"Can he feel pain?" DeSoto asked, moving to kneel by Marve's
head to take off the manager's scba mask as he tossed over 
the bronchodilator.

Johnny pinched Chet's earlobe with a couple of sooty fingernails
after he, too, peeled off Kelly's air supply.

Kelly began rasping liquidly without moving and he started
working his mouth soundlessly as Johnny sat him up quickly
against his chest in order to get him ready for the shot of misted 
drug to come, into his lungs.

"Yep." they both said at the same time.

Gage tipped Chet's head back over a shoulder to place the mouthpiece
and triggered the albuterol. Then he waited for the medication to 
work itself in a little deeper.

DeSoto glanced down at Marve's gray skin. "How's Chet's color?
Marve's isn't so good." he said, leaning over to apply the 
pocket mask around the manager's head. Roy started giving 
him breaths through the one way valve intermittently, whenever 
the man didn't breathe in on his own.

Gage moved the candle a little closer to his partner, bundling its
pointed base into a nested glove. "We can't wait any more, Roy.
I'm going to go try to get Rampart on HT for that guy's epinephrine
order."

"Don't fry yourself in the process." DeSoto quipped.

"Have I ever?" Johnny frowned ruefully, lowering Chet back down
onto his back again. He refitted the scba gear over Kelly's face.
"Help me watch him. Pulse's rising."

"He didn't need that double dose, partner."

"I like to err to the side of caution." Gage replied. "So I get a little 
over protective working on somebody I know. Is that such a big deal?"

Roy didn't say anything, past a slow smile."Let's just hope Chet didn't 
hear you say that last remark. He'll never let you live it down if he did."

Gage glared at him and scrambled over to the ceiling vent. He kicked
out its sealing grill with a foot and gasped in relief when weak, smoke 
filtered daylight started streaming in. "I promise I'll block this off with a
rug if the smoke starts coming in." Then he pulled out his handy talkie. 
"Gage on HT 51 to Battalion I.C. Do you read me?"

The loud crackle of committing frequency filled the room and lifted
both the paramedics' spirits. ##Loud and clear, 51. What's your status?##
answered Conrad.

"One non-breather and one Code I in respiratory difficulty from smoke 
inhalation. We need a patch to Rampart, a.s.a.p. DeSoto and I are safe 
for the moment but our two victims can't be moved yet without treatment first." 
Johnny explained.

##Battalion Four to HT 51. Stand by while I set up your hospital's relay through 
L.A.## came the Chief's solution.

Johnny watched as Roy set up a concentrated I.M. of epinephrine for Marve 
in between his mouth to mask ventilations. ::Come on. Come on..Hurry it up 
and answer, or both of these guys are gonna slip into metabolic acidosis 
problems.:: he fretted mentally.

Seconds later, Johnny heard Brackett's rich baritone taking over.
##Squad 51, I've been apprised of your situation. Go ahead and deliver
1 milligram of 1/10,000 epinephrine I.M. on respiratory arresting victim
one and give me a set of vitals on your downed fireman afterwards.##

Roy stabbed the medication home into Marve's hip after swabbing it down.
Very soon, the manager started gasping noisily. "He's effective now."
DeSoto told Johnny as he retipped the man's head into a better position.
A minute later, he traded the pocket mask back out for his air flowing scba's 
face plate once more. "He's at twenty again, but they're somewhat shallow." 
he said placing a hand on the manager's stomach for a respirations count.

Johnny relaxed, just a tad. "Rampart, victim one's breathing on his own.
Twenty and shallow. But still unconscious. Uh,..doc. Please note that we're 
currently holed up away from a fire without our medical oxygen. We've 
just air bottles."

##They'll do, 51. What are victim two's vital signs?##

"Pulse is 140 due to albuterol times 2. Respirations are wet but open, at
twenty four. Reactive to pain. Rampart, we've no BP cuff. His pulse is 
regular and palpable. We can feel it strongly at the carotid but it's absent 
in the limbs and he's somewhat diaphoretic. He has no burns or other signs 
of trauma."

##Sounds like shock's already kicking in. Is his core perfusion holding up?##

"Yes so far, Rampart. Update: Victim one's vitals are now stabilizing. His pulse 
is being felt now at the brachial at a rate of 110." Gage told him from what he 
read off Roy's care notes.

Johnny could almost see Kel's approving, thoughtful nod in front of him.
##Keep both their heads elevated despite that obvious hypotension so
we can gain more breathing ability. 51, we're going to treat for smoke poisoning
strictly on the basis of their altered levels of consciousness. I assume you two
have had time to implement the new modifications I wanted instigated into your 
pharmceuticals box, correct?##

"That's affirmative, doc." Johnny started. ::Whew. Thank heavens for Roy's sense
of do-right-away when it comes to doing paramedic chores.::

##All right. Let's begin their antidote treatment. I want an estimate of how long 
both your victims may have been trapped in the fire. I'm trying to extrapolate the 
maximal carboxyhemoglobin and CN levels they may have sustained thus far.##

Johnny didn't hesitate. He had already done the calculations. "Victim one,
twenty two minutes in moderate to light smoke. Victim Two, about five in 
heavy smoke. Uh, our combustive constituents were petroleum and natural 
gas producing chemical additives. Victim one's weight is approximately
140- 145 lbs, and victim two weighs 185 pounds."

##10-4, 51. I want a tighter Glasgow estimate for both.##

"Victim one, coma scale 9. Victim two, 11, nonverbal."

##Is victim two starting to show signs of restlessness?##

"10-4, movements are more like those associated with confusion and 
syncope rather than any seizure activity, Rampart."

##All right, that puts him in the potential of 40% HbCO by volume. Do you
have volumetric I.V. fluids capability?##

"Negative. Just our drug box. If needed, we've saline boluses of ten and
one hundred cc's."

##Skip those. Break two ampuls of Amyl nitrite inhalant and hold under Victim 
Two's nose for thirty seconds on every minute for four minutes. Use his air 
flow source as an impromptu nebulizer. I want to convert some of his 
hemogoblin to methemoglobin to start binding up some of the worst of his 
CN and carbon monoxide poisoning. Continue using I.N. vials until you get 
to the rest of your gear and become able to establish an I.V. of normal saline 
with 10 mL of a 3% solution sodium nitirite pushed over 2-4 min.  We'll
worry about using methylene blue as a reduction agent to reclaim his
oxyhemoglobin once his kidneys have started excreting bound up toxins.
When that happens, use a 1-2 mg/kg IV dosage over 5 min. Its peak beneficial 
effect will occur in half an hour. We'll be the ones repeating his second course
of that once he's been transported, as necessary.##

"10-4. Continuous inhaled Isoamyl nitrite on victim two until two drugs into an 
I.V. N.S.. 10cc's of 3% sodium nitrate over 2-4, followed by 1-2mgs/kg methylene 
blue over 5." Gage recited in confirmation.

##Yes, 51. ##

"10-4."

##Wait a minute, Johnny.##

"Doc?"

##In true fact, I like this course of treatment so much, do the same for Victim One
while you're at it. The only drawback will be that he recovers from his smoke
inhalation a little faster that your other patient.## chuckled Kel.

Gage and Roy both grinned.

##Continue assessing both their airways and monitor for any further detrimental 
respiratory changes. Treat any compromises aggressively like you did
with the albuterol for those bronchospasms. Once they both awaken, 
watch for hoarseness, any changes in voice, complaints of 
throat pain, or odynophagia. These indicate an upper airway injury that 
may be severe. Carbonaceous sputum should be regarded as a marker 
of dangerous alveoliar exposure. Help either one along on ambu if necessary
to splint and keep protecting their airsacs. Start 100% 02 on both 
as soon as possible. Give full vitals sets once in transit along with a 
pair of twelve lead EKG readings. Continuous.## ordered Kel.

"10-4, Rampart. Monitor and support upper airways on O2, and get EKG 
telemetry and vitals."

##Stay safe in there, you two. ## Brackett said uncharacteristically.

The heartfelt worry evident in the doctor's voice almost brought tears of
emotion to the paramedics' eyes because of the weight of their horrible
fatigue. 

"We will." promised Gage.

-----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
In the base station, Brackett hung up the red phone that had connected
him through the dispatcher to Roy and Johnny's HT.

"Dix, once they arrive, order these blood tests: a complete blood count,
chemistries, serum electrolytes, arterial blood gases with carboxyhemoglobin 
and methemoglobin levels both along with BUN and creatine studies. 
I want a full series of chest roentgenograms and a bronchoscopy room 
opened." Kel ordered.

"Are you afraid their lactate levels will be elevated?" Dix asked.

"That and their Clara cells. Last thing we need is for either of one of them
to start accumulating protein-rich fluid in any bronchial cast formations.
In that case, they'd stand a very poor chance of survival once ARDS sets
in. Have respiratory therapy prepare a couple of ventilators in case they
need P.E.E.P. support. Putting a hyperbaric chamber on standby wouldn't
be such a bad idea either."

"Already done." McCall said, inclining her head. "Did 51 say anything about
further casualties?"

"They didn't." smiled Brackett. "And that, is exactly the kind of miracle I've 
been hoping for all day." Kel picked up his coffee mug and saluted his nurse
gleefully. "Here's to one toasted oil refinery and no deaths, down the hatch."

"Amen to that." said Dixie, sipping gratefully from hers.

---------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
Johnny looked down and peered into Chet's face when he started to moan.
"Lie still and keep this mask on. I know this stuff smells nasty but it's saving
your life."

Kelly coughed and made a face at the vapors of Amyl nitrite drifting around
the snapped ampul taped into place under his nose. He made a half
hearted attempt to pull off the scba gear.

"Ah.ah.ah. No." Gage said, gripping his wrists and guiding Chet's hands down.
"Are you awake yet? Can you talk?"

Kelly frowned when he saw the fireglow flickering behind Johnny's head in
an eerie reflection from the round ventilation shaft Gage had opened to gain 
radio line of sight. "When everything is coming your way, ..you're in the wrong 
lane..." he whispered about the oil fire exploding around them.

"What was that, Chet?" Gage said. "I didn't quite hear you."

Chet started to smile, still not opening his gritty eyes.
"Gage, listen to me. This is important."

Johnny lowered himself down right next to Chet's mouth and
set an ear onto his mask's glass plate.

Kelly smiled, arching his dirty eyebrows. "What you do today, might 
burn your butt tomorrow."

Gage straightened up in a mix of relief and annoyance. "Oh, gahh..
No sh*t. We're firefighters, Chet. Now shut up and conserve your oxygen."

Roy piped up from where he was folded around the manager. 
"Glad to see you're feeling better, Kelly. How's the head?"

"Painful. *gasp* And I'm......still......kinda short of breath."

"You will be for a while." Roy told him. "And so will our friend here until 
all that poison gas decides to leave both your systems using the antidote 
medications we're running into ya."

"...yipee skippy.." Chet said without enthusiasm. "How....how's he doing over 
there?" Kelly wondered, wincing as Gage exchanged another vile smelling 
cracked vapor ampul for the spent old one without lifting up his air mask any 
further than what was necessary to slip in a few fingers.

"He's stable. He quit breathing for a minute, ten minutes ago. But it was 
nothing that a little epinephrine couldn't fix." Johnny told him, grinning.

Chet stayed silent, gaping vacantly at his surroundings.
Then a look of panic entered his eyes. His hands flew to his throat.  

"Chet? What's wrong?...." Johnny demanded, setting his hands on either
side of Kelly's head.

Roy moved over to his side. "Are you choking?" he asked Kelly, taking 
a hold of his shoulders.

Kelly just gurgled and clawed at the mask. 

Johnny pulled it off. "Hey, take a breath. You're still ok.."

Chet began to fight them, trying to move.

Roy's hand slipped during the struggle and one of them fell onto Kelly's 
stomach by accident. DeSoto glanced down and finally saw the rocking 
there. "He's just nauseated. He's not obstructing."

"Oh. Ok. uh, ok.." Johnny helped Chet roll onto his side and soon, the 
firefighter emptied and purged himself of old coffee and half digested 
food. 

Kelly shuddered when the spasm ended and he stopped tensing once he
was propped up against the box they got for him to lie on. He held up his 
hand to show them that he was fine even though he was collapsed limp with 
his eyes closed.

"Are you all right now?" Roy asked him, taking his racing pulse at the neck.

Chet opened his eyes. "My job.... would be just perfect.....if I never had to 
deal with any smoke!" he complained, as he pulled the scba air mask back 
down over his face from where it had been shoved up on top of his head. 
He suddenly looked comical with the white taped X still holding the ampul 
of cyanide antidote under his nose with his rescue messed hair.

Roy and Johnny burst out laughing and they were only interrupted when the 
manager awoke and began asking questions of his own.

"Come on, let's get them out of here. They're ready to leave." Gage said to 
his partner, tapping him on the shoulder. "I think I see the door that leads to  
the escape tunnel Chet promised us, right over there."

--------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
It was a couple of days later, in the nurse's lounge of Rampart. 

And at least three of Station 51's crew had finally broken the curse of 
no sleep.

Chet was sitting in a wheel chair in his street clothes, filling out his discharge 
papers under Dixie's happy scrutiny. Roy and Johnny were there, too, trying
to down a whole pot of coffee between the two of them to fortify themselves
for the hours they were going to spend taking Chet out to a baseball game
to celebrate his release.

For Kel Brackett and McCall, it was deja vu all over again for the television
set was on, covering the refinery fire and its aftermath.

##Last night, Three Valleys Water announced that it has detected the fire 
retardant perfluorooctane sulfonate (PFOS), used in fire fighting foam, in a 
ground water bore hole close to the Arco site. Representatives have 
stated that no water from this well will enter the public water supply and 
that a nearby well and pumping station has been closed as a precaution. 
The chemical is a known health risk and the state of California is about to 
ban its use...##

Kelly piped up. "Ha! Out it goes like the way of the abestos tarp! I always knew
that stuff was foul."

"But it worked so well." Johnny said matter of factly, still sucked into the 
news report. His coffee mug was finally being ignored. "I wonder what they're 
gonna get to replace it."

"More Aircrane helitankers." DeSoto joked.

The hospital breakroom erupted into laughter.

"Heh, yeah.. But seriously, they do have a new fangled dry red powder they're still 
testing up at 110's to handle brush and fuel fires." Roy chuckled. "So I know we're
not going to be suffering any no matter what they decide to do in the end."

Johnny hissed out loud. "Shhh. I wanna hear this." he said, pointing to the TV set.

##However, just prior to the announcement the Drinking Water Commission 
announced that it was increasing the safe level of the chemical in municipal 
drinking water. This prompted the Arco refinery's CEO, Mike Penning, to accuse
the government of changing the rules to suit the situation in which PFOS levels 
in drinking water in the area may rise in the future....

##A further announcement was made this afternoon about the sequence 
of events which enabled the Arco disaster to occur. Starting at 19:00 on the 
evening of 10 December Tank 12, towards the north west of the main 
depot, was filled with unleaded gasoline. At midnight the terminal closed, 
and a check was made of the contents of tanks, which found everything 
normal. At approximately 03:00, the level gauge for Tank 12 began 
indicating an unchanging level reading, despite fuel filling continuing at 
1600 gallons per hour into its reservoir. Calculations show that the tank 
would have begun to overflow at about 14:20."

"And that's what Marco saw!" said Gage. "Holy cow."

## Forty minutes later, an estimated 300 tons of natural gas would have 
spilled down the side of the tank onto the ground inside bund A, a 
semi-enclosed compound surrounding the block's several tanks. There is 
evidence suggesting that a high level switch, which should have detected 
that the tank was full and shut off the supply, failed to operate. CCTV 
footage shows a cloud of vapor, eight feet deep flowing away 
from the tank. By 15:01, when the first explosion occurred, the cloud had 
spread beyond the boundaries of the Arco site.

##The extent of the damage meant it was not possible to determine the 
exact source of ignition, but possibilities include an emergency generator 
and the depot's fire pump system. Investigators do not believe that 
it was caused either by a driver of a fuel tanker, as had been speculated, 
or by anyone using a mobile radio....
 
##Other safety experts spoke of a known "Weekend effect" in industry, in which 
the lack of weekend maintenance creates an unsafe condition. Arco's 
production of oil and fuel products have dropped 60 % and will remain so 
until repairs can be affected. Previously, Arco Corp. filled 400 tanker trucks 
every day and handled around 2.37 million tons of fuel a year...##

Chet's mirth was contagious and soon, the others' attentions moved away
from the murmuring TV and back into amicable conversations.

Kel Brackett was thoughtful. "You were far luckier than you could ever
possibly know, Chet."

"How so, doc? No one cooked... I don't get your meaning." he shrugged,
rubbing a bruised cheekbone.

"He means about that distillation tower of yours, fellas." Dixie elaborated.

Roy, Johnny and Chet stopped talking, their foreheads wrinking in confusion.

"What about it?" asked Chet.

Dixie's face fell into a soft line. "We saw footage taken from one of the Aircrane
pilot's automatic cameras, covering the firecrews overseeing your own
incident's rescue and recovery..." she fell quiet.

"And..?" asked Gage seriously.

"They went back right after your ambulance left to see exactly where you three 
took refuge..." McCall demurred, deeply effected. The nurse found that
she couldn't complete her sentence when a sudden lump tightened her throat.

Dr. Brackett finished it for her. He met the firefighters' eyes. All of them. 

"...and there was nothing there." Kel said.



FIN

Burnout    Episode Thirty Nine
Emergency Theater Live

----------------------------------------------------------
Photo:  Gage broadcasting worriedly on HT
             over a downed Chet on scba air.

Photo:  Roy giving mouth to mouth using a pocket mask.

Photo: An oil refinery, fully involved.

Photo: Fire crews foaming an extinguished fuel fire.

Photo:  Brackett on a red phone.

Photo:  Chet looking disturbed.
 
**************************************************

                                 End Credits --  Episode Thirty Nine (Fifth Season)
                                      
                                                       §§     Burnout    §§


                        :)       This episode is for every EMT, paramedic, first responder             :)
                                 and firefighter who has ever become one just because they 
                        :)       watched Emergency as a kid when they were growing up.      :P :D ;)  



EmergencytheaterTaleinOneFile

Our current episode as it happens with descriptions of images sent. Uploaded daily.

 
The Story Unfolds...

Season Six, Episode Forty..
 
 §§    Canine Capers    §§
 
Debut Launch: December 1st, 2006. 

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**Location to the Complete Current Story

**************************************************
From: E!lf <eexclamationmarklf@yahoo.com> 
Date: Thu Dec 7, 2006 10:16 pm 
Subject: Canine Capers   
 
"You!"
 
Roy DeSoto, engrossed in inventorying the drug box, looked 
up from his task to find a middle-aged woman advancing on him 
like a man-o-war.  She had a younger woman by the hand and 
was dragging her along relentlessly.  The younger woman was, 
in fact, very young.  She was also very pretty.  She was also 
very pregnant.  She was clutching a large basket in her free hand 
and her face was streaked with tears.
 
Roy stood and faced her politely, his broad, honest face open and 
his blue eyes puzzled.  "Can I help you ma'am?"
 
"Oh, I think that you've been quite enough help already!"  She 
motioned over her shoulder.  "I know that you're responsible 
for this!  Don't even bother to try to deny it!"
 
Roy's eyes grew round and his face reddened.  He was possibly 
the most devoted husband and father in California.  "No!  Ma'am!  
I never -- I mean -- I swear --!"
 
"Oh, sure!  Your kind always do.  Not that I'm saying you're the 
only one.  As far as I'm concerned, every fireman in the building 
is involved."
 
Shocked, Roy risked a quick glance at the girl.  She had pulled 
her hand free from what he could only assume was her mother's 
grasp and was swiping at fresh tears.  Roy darted a look around 
the vehicle bay.  He could see Chet and Marco lurking just inside 
the door to the dayroom listening and he knew Johnny was 
hiding behind the squad, but no one leaped to his rescue.
 
"What-uh... . . what . . . ?"
 
She barrelled forward as if he hadn't even spoken.  "And since 
you're responsible, you can deal with the results!  Give it to him, 
Myra!"
 
"But, Momma!"
 
"GIVE it to him!"
 
With a subdued sob, Myra thrust the basket into Roy's hands 
and turned and ran.  Momma dusted her hands together in a 
satisfied manner and marched out after her.  Roy stood stunned 
as the basket jiggled in his hands.
 
Chet slunk out, sidled down to the door controls and closed the 
big bay door, then he, Marco and Johnny came over and gathered 
around.
 
Johnny clapped his partner on the shoulder.  "Something you 
need to tell us, Pally?"

Roy gave him a look.  Then he lifted the basket up and gingerly 
raised the lid to peek inside.  A pink tongue came out and licked 
his nose.  Drawing one corner of his mouth back in a tight grimace, 
he flipped the lid open.  Six little white heads popped up.  Some 
of them were beginning to develop the first of their black spots.
 
"Puppies!" he exclaimed.  "Dalmatian puppies!"
 
Chet's brow furrowed.  "But Boot isn't a dalmatian!"
 
"You're right.  Go tell Momma that!" Roy told him.
 
"Uh, no thanks.  I'll pass."
 
"They sure are cute," Marco said, reaching out a finger to one 
of them.
 
"Cute, yeah," Roy agreed, "but what are we going to do with 
them?"
 
"You mean what are YOU going to do with them," Chet 
corrected him.
 
"Yeah," for once John Gage sided with his nemesis and against 
his best friend.  He smiled his slow, crooked smile.  "After all, 
you're the one standing there holding the basket....  Daddy."
 
Roy glared at his partner, but any response he might have made 
was lost when the puppies all suddenly sat up, alert, tipped their 
little heads back and howled mournfully.  

Two seconds later the tones sounded.
 ##Squad 51.  Man shot.  2253 Bernadette Plaza, cross street 
Wilshire.  LAPD is en route.  Time out 09:23.##
 
Chet ran to copy down the address and acknowledge the call.  Roy 
shoved the basket of puppies at Marco and he and Johnny jumped 
in the squad.  Roy took the call slip Chet handed him.  Marco 
re-opened the bay doors and the two paramedics sped away.

---------------------------------------------------------------------------

Photos:  None.

***************************************************
From: E!lf <eexclamationmarklf@yahoo.com> 
Date: Sun Dec 17, 2006 2:06 am 
Subject: Shot Up  
  
DeSoto thought aloud in his head. ::In the Roaring Twenties, during the golden
age of silent films, this part of Los Angeles had been home to some of the
brightest stars in California.  To say that it has declined dramatically is an
understatement.:: he mused.

Roy guided the squad up a narrow, winding and badly potholed street, past dirty
little bungalows and the rusting hulks of broken down vehicles. The radio came
to life.  ##Squad 51, be advised that your police backup has been delayed.  LAPD
and LACoSD advise you to await their arrival.##

"Right." Johnny muttered.  "And our victim lays out there and dies while we're
sitting over here."

Their address turned out to be a leaning gatepost standing beside an overgrown
driveway. It looked like the place had been a mansion once on a large lot, but
the big house was long gone and the lush gardens had gone to seed.

Roy pulled to a stop. "Let's at least get the gear ready."

Johnny jumped out of the squad and began pulling stuff from the squad's
compartments on his side.  Roy got out and circled in front of the truck to
help, but as he set foot onto the cracked sidewalk, he found himself face to
face with a large young man in torn jeans and a denim jacket who had emerged
from the shrubbery beside the gatepost.

"You guys looking for the guy that got shot?" the young man asked.

"Yeah," Roy said.  "You know where he is?"

"Sure, he's back there."  The kid pointed over his shoulder into the
jungle-like growth of the vacant lot.  "Back in the swimming pool."

The kid started away but Roy stopped him.  "Hey, wait a minute.  Can you tell
us anything more about him?  Who is he?  What's his name?  You got any 
idea who shot him?"

Johnny, standing behind the open compartment doors, froze when he heard his
partner's sudden intake of breath.  He peeked around the edge of the door and
his heart skipped a beat as he saw Roy standing very still, looking into the
muzzle of a gun.

The kid laughed cheerfully and brushed the barrel of the gun against the blond
paramedic's cheek.  "You take real good care of him, now.  He's one of my best
customers."

"Then why did you shoot him?"  Roy could have kicked himself as he heard the
words leaving his mouth, but it was too late.  The shooter merely laughed.

"Business, man.  Strictly business."  Sirens sounded in the distance.  The kid
tucked the gun back inside his jacket, laughed madly and ran off on foot.

Roy slumped against the hood of the squad.  Johnny closed the compartment 
doors.

"You okay, man?" Johnny whispered.

Roy nodded and pushed himself away from the squad.  "You ready?"

"Don't you want to wait for the cops?" Gage said incredulously.

"What for?" Roy asked.  "The shooter's gone."

Johnny thought about it for a second, shrugged and half nodded.  The two
paramedics gathered up their equipment and headed back along the 
trail through the overgrown gardens. 
---------------------------------------------------------------------------

Photos:  None.

***************************************************
From: E!lf <eexclamationmarklf@yahoo.com>
Date: Sun Dec 17, 2006 6:11 pm
Subject: The Tattoo

The path back through the greenery wound past ragged oleander
and Mexican verde trees, belladonna lilies and summer lilac, of the once
well-tended garden.  The underbrush was heavily littered with
beer cans and broken bottles and soon, a stench of human waste
battled the sickly sweet perfume from the flowers.

"He's over there." Gage pointed, following his nose.

Roy hesitated, spotting something else surrounding them.
Scattered in among the other weeds, the two paramedics caught the
familiar, miniature palm tree silhouette of marijuana plants.
::Now isn't this wonderful ?:: he thought privately. ::Someone's
private patch. If there are booby traps in here....::

They passed the burned out hulk of the old mansion and finally
came to the swimming pool, half hidden behind manzanita bushes
and pampas grass.

The once-elegant pool was now just a kidney-shaped hole in the
ground, the tiles cracked and heavily spray painted, the shallow end
half filled with old tires and drifted trash.  Their victim lay on his back,
and bleeding beneath the limbs of a scrawny palm tree that had forced
its way up through the broken concrete.  They ran down the pool steps,
the oxygen bottle rattling along behind on its wheels, and dropped
to their knees beside him.  Johnny set up the biophone and contacted
Rampart while Roy did a rapid first assessment and cut the man's
clothes off.

"Rampart, this is rescue fifty-one.  How do you read me?" Gage
began.

"Johnny, look at this."  Johnny glanced over and watched as Roy
shone his penlight in the victim's eyes.  "Pinprick pupils," Roy said.
He turned the man's hands up and his forearms and the insides of
his elbows were covered with needle marks. "And he's not breathing
so hot. Grab his O2."

"Ok." Johnny replied.

##We read you loud and clear, 51." Joe Early answered them.
"Go ahead.##

Johnny turned back to the phone.  "Rampart, we have a male
shooting victim, aged approximately 45, 160 pounds. Unconscious.
He has been shot twice in the lower abdomen and is bleeding profusely.
Vitals are:.." he reached for the notebook Roy was holding out to him,
"..Pulse 130 and irregular, respirations about eight, blood pressure 72
over 26. Victim appears to be an habitual drug user and he's showing
signs of having recently shot up, possibly with heroin."  As he read
off the vitals signs, he was simultaneously preparing two IVs of Ringer's
Lactate with large bore needles while he boosted the man's
breathing occasionally with the demand valve resuscitator.

Roy, likewise anticipating the doctor's orders, started strapping the
wounded man into MAST trousers, being mindful of possible spinal injury.
By the time Joe Early's voice came back over the phone, Roy
had them carefully in place with their patient atop a long immobilization
board. He checked the man's abdomen with a pat down under the
main chamber. "The suit's controlling his hemorrhaging ok, Johnny."
DeSoto said. "I'll get another pressure."

Gage nodded.

Joe Early began his orders.
##Okay, 51. Start two IVs, Ringer's Lactate, wide bore needles,
full open.  Apply MAST suit and inflate all compartments. 51,
if he's under the influence of too much heroin, he could crash in
an instant. Better insert an esophageal airway and get him on
12 liters of oxygen, with any needed support.  Stay on his vitals,
keep him well-ventilated, and transport as soon as possible.##

"10-4, Rampart.  Two I.V.'s RL, wide bore, full open. MAST suit
is fully inflated. We're establishing that esophageal airway on
12 liters of O2. He has no airway complications." said Johnny,
eyeing up what Roy did in front of his waiting hands before Gage
reattached his working ventilator to the hub of the breathing tube.

##Ten-four, fifty-one.  We'll be waiting.  Rampart out.##

Footsteps and crashing underbrush heralded the arrival of the ambulance
attendants bearing a stretcher and closely followed by Deputy Vince
Howard.  The ambulance men ran down into the pool, set down the
stretcher and helped the two paramedics bundle the victim onto it.

Vince remained up on the edge of the pool, glaring down.
"What part of 'wait for backup' don't you two understand?"

"The part where our victim dies." Roy said shortly.  "Anyway, the
shooter's gone.  He ran off to the west on foot."

"What?  You saw him?  How do you know he was the shooter?"

"He told us, more or less." Johnny said, grabbing the I.V. bags as
his partner tucked the oxygen tank and drug box down beside the
victim on the stretcher.  "And he pulled a gun on Roy."

"He what?  DeSoto, are you all right?"

"No," Roy said dryly.  "He shot me and I'm dead."

"Very funny.  Later, when we're not so busy, remind me to
start laughing." said Vince, finally noticing the pot plants blooming
around the swimming pool. He pointed to his partner to begin
courdoning the entire area off with police tape.

The ambulance attendants headed for the road with their burden,
Johnny pacing them.

Roy gathered up the rest of their equipment and moved to follow.

But Vince cut him off.

"Vince!  I have to go!  I have to follow the ambulance!  You know
I have to stay close in case Johnny has problems! Let me pass."
:: And I really,.. really need to get away from here.:: came another protest
from inside his head. Now that their victim was on the way to the hospital with
nothing else to focus on, he could feel the shakes seriously setting in.

"I will in a few seconds. Give me something first!  A name.. How
about a description?" he prompted firmly.

Roy paused, falling quiet and he thought about it.  "He was just a kid.
Young.  Seventeen?  Eighteen maybe.  Big.  Six one, six two.  Muscular,
not fat.  Dark hair, brown eyes, light brown skin tone.  Maybe Hispanic
or mixed Caucasian and Hispanic.  He was wearing jeans and a
denim jacket and he had a gun the size of Sonoma County.  He
brushed it against my cheek and the barrel was still warm.  I could
smell the gunpowder."  The paramedic's eyes glazed at the memory.
"He said this guy was his best customer and he just shot him
because it was business.  Then he laughed and took off on foot
westwards. About six minutes ago."

Roy startled at some movement in his anxiety.
Other officers were on scene now, marking the location of the
two spent casings and searching the area for other evidence.

Vince stepped aside and let Roy go by.  "Easy... Okay, that's good.
And thanks. I'm still going to need a formal statement, and one
from your partner, too." he said, lifting his radio to call in a
surveillance helicopter to begin a man hunt.

"Right. Catch us when we're finished at the hospital?" DeSoto
sighed.

"Yeah, I'll be right behind you."  Suiting actions to words, Vince
followed Roy back along the path.

When they both got to the street, they saw that the ambulance
was long gone. Roy made short work of putting away his gear,
but then he paused as he was getting behind the squad's wheel.
"Hey, Vince?  One more thing.  The guy had a tattoo on the back of
his right hand.  A dog.  A big, mean-looking dog, ..uh,..like a bulldog
or something."  Then he caught the distant look in the deputy's eyes.
"Uh oh, did I ring a bell?"

"Maybe... Roy, I'm gonna need you to look at some mug shots, too."

"Sure.  Fine. Fine.. Uh,.. we'll see you there soon." he said, with 
a small, not so brave smile. Without wasting any more time, Roy 
shifted the rescue truck into gear and sped off in pursuit of the 
ambulance.

-------------------------------------------------------

Photos: None.

***************************************************
From: E!lf <eexclamationmarklf@yahoo.com> 
Date: Mon Dec 18, 2006 8:11 pm 
Subject: Interlude in the ER  
 
Roy backed the squad into place outside the ER entrance and ran inside.  Vince,
following close behind, was in time to see him disappear into a treatment room.
Taking off his helmet, Vince slowed down and sighed. He went on to the nurses'
station and soon cornered a cup of coffee from Dixie McCall. "How's the shooting
victim doing?" he asked.

Dixie shrugged.  "They're still working on him.  He was in respiratory arrest
when they got here."  She edged close and lowered her voice.
"Johnny said the guy who shot him pulled a gun on Roy!"

"That's what he told me, too."

"Well . . . did you catch him?" she finally ansed after his next
mouthful of java.

"Not yet."

"Well you'd better!" she glared, only half mock.

Vince gave her a small grin and a teasing salute. "Yes, ma'am!"

The base station radio interrupted them and Dixie
turned away to answer it.
##Rampart, this is L.A. 110, come in please.##

"Go ahead, L.A. 110."

##Rampart, we have a fifty-three year old male,
approximately 180 lbs, who has been bitten repeatedly
by a chihuahua.##

Vince's eyebrows went up at that chief complaint.

McCall noticed. "I don't know what it is about today.
It's like it's the Day Of The Animals, or something,
happening out there. Dogs are going nuts on their owners
all over the place."

"Let's hope these aren't pre-signs of an earthquake." Vince
sighed.

Dixie nodded and waved down the hall, signalling Joe Early, and
turned back to the radio.  "Do you have vitals, 110?"

##Not at this time, Rampart.  We are still attempting to extricate
our victim from the doghouse . . . .##

Vince spit out his hard won coffee at that elaboration. Somehow,
a doghouse and a hundred and eighty pound man stuck inside of it,
hadn't computed. McCall chuckled and handed him some kleenix from
a nearby tissue box so he could dry off his dark uniform.

Twenty minutes passed. Vince listened in on 110's rescue, drank coffee,
and used his radio to follow the progress -- or rather, lack of progress --
of the manhunt for the shooter.

Finally Howard saw the treatment room door open as Gage and DeSoto
came out together, shoulders slumped dejectedly.

Kelly Brackett, following behind, regarded them kindly.
"Listen, fellows, don't take it too hard.  You both did an outstanding job, but
that man had been abusing his body for years.  He was probably only a few 
months away from death, even if he hadn't have been shot."

"He's dead then?" Vince asked neutrally, walking up to where they were
standing outside the treatment room door.

"Yeah, a couple of minutes ago." sighed Kel quietly. "Do you know who he 
was yet? We'll need to notify his next of kin." Dr. Brackett said, folding up
his stethoscope morosely.

"No, not yet. We'll have to wait until we learn something from
the medical examiner's office. He or she'll be able trace who he was through his
dental records or through his fingerprints if he's got any kind of a rap sheet
with us." Moving slightly away from the doctor and the two dispirited
paramedics, Vince raised his radio to his mouth.  "Attention all units.  Be
advised that the shooting on Bernadette Plaza is now a murder investigation."

-------------------------------------------------------

Photos: None.

***************************************************
From :  Roxy Dee <laterrapincabesa@hotmail.com> 
Sent :  Thursday, December 21, 2006 12:49 AM 
Subject :  Puppies and Partners~~ 

Dixie McCall wandered over from the desk and placed
a soft hand on both paramedics' shoulders. "That's one h*ll of
a tough break, fellas. I'm sorry." she said. "I thought you really 
had that one in the bag."

Gage shot her an irritated look.

"Uh,..not that kind of bag. Sorry again." she shrugged.

Gage swallowed around his doubly dry mouth left over from
the long CPR they'd just completed and nodded. DeSoto leaned
against the wall and closed his eyes wearily. Johnny smacked
Roy on the arm seconds later and firmly pointed him over to the 
drinking fountain by the extra medical gear they had left there 
during their resuscitation efforts. Sighing, Roy started forward to
slake his burning thirst.

Brackett stopped him with the back of his hand. "I can do you
one better than that. Let me buy you coffee and lunch in the cafeteria?
I promise you, Sergeant," he told Vince. "..that you can question and
interview my boys all you like after they've both got something solid 
sitting inside of them, warming their stomachs." 

"Fair enough. I have to remain here at the hospital anyway until our 
John Doe's been officially identified." replied Vince, who would be 
leaving soon for the police office set aside Rampart's sub-basement 
next to the county morgue suites. DeSoto had no doubt that he would 
return shortly with the promised mugshot album. "Say I'll meet you back 
here at the desk when you're free again, and you're good to go."

"We'll buzz you." promised Gage empathetically, trying not to push
Roy ahead of him with the defibrillator to move him on a little faster.

"See you soon, fellas." Howard told them as he made his way to
the employee elevators. They all heard him give out a shout when
news finally came over his radio that the murder suspect with the 
bulldog tattoo had been successfully cornered in a nearby 
neighborhood backyard and safely apprehended. "We nailed him 
guys. Now all we have to do is find that f***ing gun."

"Thanks for the news, Vince." Roy said, relaxing finally. "I needed that."

----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Roy and Johnny seriously doubted that they could eat any kind of 
food right then but they chewed on a few mouthfuls anyway to humor 
Dixie and Kel when they all sat down at a table under the comforting
shade of the eucalyptus tree casting its branches over the hospital's 
out door cafe' a few minutes later.

"So, what's on your agenda for the day, besides going on your usual
rounds and mopping up after the two of us?" Gage asked Kel Brackett 
after he had downed his fourth glass of milk.

"Me? Not much. It's just another slow Monday around mid-morning." he 
replied.

Roy blinked and stacked up his sixth empty plastic cup next to his tray.
"And how about you, Dixie? You already know about our future schedule. 
Johnny and I never know what we're going to be doing next." he smiled.

Dixie hung her head over her salad at his very old firemen's joke.
"I'm a new sponsor this week, volunteering for the Make A Wish 
Foundation."

"Oh, yeah?" Johnny brightened up. "That's far out. Being given unlimited 
money to help make someone's final dream come true. Can you talk 
about whom you're getting to help out for a while with us?"

Dixie smiled. "I can. And, I'm afraid I have a confession to make. 
The good doctor and I have carefully planned this very outting today
just to set you two up concerning that very same subject matter."

"No problems there." Roy grinned. "We were on to ya from the beginning.
After all, how many physicians actually buy their paramedics full meals,
complete with dessert, when they're still officially on duty for the day?"

"So the two of us weren't subtle enough, eh?" Dixie asked, seriously 
doe-eyed.

"Nope. But we appreciate all the food and the chance to get good
and watered down again." Roy saluted them with a toast using another
not yet drained glass of milk.

"So fire away..." Johnny said, leaning a pair of elbows on the table in
front of them. "Uh, no pun intended." Gage chuckled, rapping on the helmet
he had resting on the table. "And we'll see what we can do for you."

Dixie dove right in. "Ok, she's ten years old and she's in room 506. I can't
tell you about her terminal diagnosis but you'll probably be able to figure that 
one out on your own. She's requesting to see a couple of paramedics who
are also firefighters to see if their station would allow her to fulfill a lifelong 
wish of hers."

"What's she asking for?" DeSoto wondered, folding his hands over his now
empty spaghetti plate, his interest now piqued fully.

Kel's eyes twinkled. "It's probably nothing big, boys. But I'm afraid you're 
going to have to ask her what she wants. So far, Dixie and I only know 
what kind of people she'd like to request as part of her Wish. And none of
the why for." 

"Easily fixed. Is she outpatient?" Roy asked.

"Yeah. She's only in for a few hours for some blood cleansing."
Kel answered.

"We can see her right now if you'd like. Might be a good idea to
catch her before we all get ourselves busy again." Roy said.

"All right. You two had enough?" asked Brackett.

"Plenty." said Gage, rising from his chair. "Just let me go stash
our gear in the squad first before we go up there. 506 you said?"

"Yeah, bed two. She's wearing a yellow shirt with blue jeans."
Dr. Brackett answered, reaching over to bus their dishes for
them. 

"What else does she like besides firemen paramedics?"
Roy asked, smiling softly.

"She likes horses." Dixie said, handing Johnny a small packet of 
information they needed to work with to use the Foundation to
purchase anything.

"Now there's a keen topic right up your alley, partner." DeSoto 
grinned at Johnny.

"That's why I picked you two as her recipients." McCall said, 
shooing them back into the hospital. "Call me if she's feeling 
nauseated. I don't want to interrupt the three of you while you're 
still deep into making your hot little plans."

"What's our budget's ceiling?" DeSoto asked Kel.

"Fifty five thousand dollars. Give or take." Brackett replied with 
a grin.

Gage whistled under his breath. "Oh my.. Don't tell me her anonymous
benefactor's a natural born millionaire."

"She is as a matter of fact." Dixie demurred. "Remember that odd
media circus case involving that contested Shell Oil inheritance lawsuit 
last year?"

"Yeah."

"Well this woman's the rightful heir, come out of hiding. And the Make
A Wish Foundation's her own personal first charity of choice. Have fun
blowing the whole wad on my special little girl, boys." Dixie said tearfully. 
"We've got just a month left to spend with her at the very most, ok?"

----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Chet Kelly's mouth dropped open when he found the cause of all
the scratching they had been hearing echoing through the vehicle
bay off and on all morning. "Say, Cap. You're not gonna believe this."

"I'm not gonna believe what?" Hank hollered from inside his office. "Did you
set those d*mn*d mouse traps like I asked you to, yet? I don't want those
nasty germ ridden vermin to get anywhere near those pups of Roy's. Got it?"

"I'm afraid you're going to have to come out here and see the cause of
all the noise for yourself, Cap."

There was a hasty rustle of paper and a firm bang from a hastily hung up
phone receiver before Hank finally joined Kelly and the rest of the gang by
the back garage door, now auto-retracted open.

Cap skidded to a halt half way across the open floor where the squad
usually parked. "How'd they get here? I- I.. I thought Bonnie was with
her real owner and Boot was still holed up at 110's."

Henry woofed a sudden greeting as he trucked out the kitchen door
to greet the two "old" newcomers to what was now his fire station.

Boot and Bonnie gleefully began to chase him, recognizing his
current king-ship with an all out play feint, darting around and around 
the gang's legs, and wildly dashing in and out under the Ward fire engine.

"Hey, knock it off all you hairy, four-legged twits. You'll wake the puppies!"
Hank roared.

All three dogs screeched to a halt, and regarded Cap's face with surprise.

Then their mouths fell into happy grins and they made an immediate 
beeline for the bunkroom, with Henry leading the way, to where the 
basket of dalmation puppies was being kept inside Henry's doghouse.

"Oh no, no..  no..  no..  no!" hollered Cap in a vain attempt to stop them.

"Cap, let em go. They're all fire dogs. They know better than to wake 
sleeping babies, don't they?" Marco asked.

Hank ran a hand through his hair in irritation. "Let's just hope you're 
right, Lopez. Last thing I need is a pack of overexcited puppies running 
around the station, piddling all over the place."

"Yeah, aren't we glad we've got just the concrete and tile flooring." 
Chet quipped.

Hank nailed him with a glare. "For that you've got puppy bottle 
feeding and their latrine detail until the pound gets here to take them
away for Adoption Day on Friday." he fumed.

"Hey, take it easy. I'll do it. I'll do it. Geesh what is there about today 
to get all worked up about? It's not like we've had any engine calls
yet to go on this morning." Kelly groused.

"You want to know why I'm all worked up? I'll tell you why I'm all worked
up. Your ever loving crewmates just agreed to Wish host a little girl at the
station for a week so she can learn enough to write a final semester
report for her fifth grade class about firemen lifesavers. That's why.."

Stoker, Marco and Kelly all went thoughtful. Then...

"Cool." said Stoker.

"She'll be someone nice for all the dogs to play with. And the puppies, too."
said Marco.

"Right on, man. She's more than welcome here. I'll hang the privacy curtains
myself." declared Chet. "When's she coming?"

"She's on her way right now." Cap said, all of the hot air leaking out of
his sails in the face of his men's open and honest enthusiasm for the added
complication to their day to day routine. Then he sneezed. Hard.
"OhHHhh. Not again." he grimaced, snatching a hand up to his face quickly to
catch a trickle from an active bloody nose.

Mike whipped out a handerchief and handed it to Hank. "Did you forget to 
use the Vaseline Roy and Johnny left out for you last night to coat your 
sinuses from all the dry winter air, Cap?" 

"Yes. I had a ton of paper work to do last night and this morning." Hank
grumbled. He coughed wetly when blood finally worked its way back and 
into his throat. "I don't have time for this.." he sputtered. 

The guys led him over to the radio receiving alcove and over to 
the garbage can resting there under the writing shelf.

"Spit it out. I'll go get some ice." said Kelly. "Then sit down on the 
bench. Stoker went to grab more dressings so we can pack 
you off on that side before you drip out onto your uniform."

Kelly ran off and disappeared into the kitchen. The engineer began 
digging through the engine compartments for their road side first aid 
kit.

Cap sighed, watching him, and then he sat dutifully. He began leaning 
forward to clear out his mouth into the garbage can they had given him.

He was still sitting there when the front doors opened to admit the 
squad, Roy, Johnny and a tiny new passenger sitting in between them.

"She's here already. Ah, isn't she a little darling." said Marco, rising from 
where he had been crouching next to Cap. "Well, hello there little miss. 
Welcome to Station 51. What's your name? Como te llama?" he asked.
 
--------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Photo:  Cap reading in his office.

Photo:  Gage, Chet chasing Boot and Bonnie in the vehicle bay.

Photo:  Dixie and Brackett at lunch.

Photo:  Roy and Johnny in the cafeteria.

Photo:  Bonny, looking happy.

Photo:  Dalmation puppies looking shocked.

Photo:  A closeup of the squad, returning.

Photo:  Marco smiling into a squad window at you.

***************************************************
From: "Patti" <pattik1@hotmail.com> 
Date: Thu Dec 21, 2006 11:09 am 
Subject: The Angelic Act.. 

The girl before Marco was pale, but she smiled like the sun only
an instant after he did. "Am I really here?" she asked excitedly,
brushing long wavy curls out of her tom boy like face. Her eyes
were brown and she seemed to be of half Italian descent.

Johnny Gage, seated next to her, took off his helmet and hung
it on the hook behind him in the cab. "Yep. You sure are. And 
your mother's right behind us. She went to go park your station 
wagon in the back." said Johnny, getting out of his side of the 
squad. 

The petite girl frowned briefly and made a small face of disappointment.

Roy clarified matters. "Don't worry. Your ma'll only be here for a little
while to sign some permission papers. Then it'll be just seven of us, 
for a week, like we promised." He wiggled fingers to get the girl's 
attention in order to help her climb across the middle seat into his 
arms for a lift down. "And this handsome gentleman fireman addressing 
you.. is Mr. Marco Lopez."

"Hola, Marco. I'm afraid my spanish isn't so good yet. But I keep trying."
she said, accepting Marco's greeting handshake.

Lopez chuckled. "That's all right. I can give you a few handy pointers 
over tacos. You like those? That's what's for lunch in about fifteen 
minutes." he offered.

"Thanks, Marco. I like tacos. I'm Felicia. I'm sorry I can't tell you my 
last name. Mom says only the captain gets to know that. And any doctors, 
if I gotta go see some for another tune up while I'm here. Thank you 
everybody for granting my Wish. Don't worry. I'm an A student. I promise 
I'll write a really, really good report and I won't say anything bad. I can't if 
I want to get to the sixth grade. I'll let you read it before I hand it in to my 
teacher, Mrs. Mulligan."

"Sounds like you have everything squared away except for putting down 
the actual words, Felicia." said Marco. 

"I've been thinking about what to say for a long time, but I know I need a 
little more time seeing how everybody here works at their job to get 
everything exactly right." said the little girl, touching the side flasher 
on the squad's door with undisguised curiosity.

A new voice piped up. "You've come to the right place. We're the 
busiest fire station around these parts." Mike Stoker slammed shut 
an engine door loudly and that was when the three of them noticed 
that he had a portable first aid kit in his hands. 

Johnny looked up, casting a glance around for the reason why. A few 
seconds later, they noticed a forlorn Cap parked on the wooden bench 
next to the soda machine by the large wall map near the office. "What 
happened to him?" Gage asked Marco, when he spotted the blood 
soaked cloth in Hank's hand as it sat over his nose.

Roy's eyebrows went up, too. "Did he lose a tug of war rope game with 
Henry or something?"

"Nah. He forgot to apply his schnoz lube last night." Stoker shrugged. 
"Things aren't too annoying yet. Chet's getting some ice for him to put 
on his forehead."

Felicia's mouth fell into an "O" of concern and she padded quickly across
the garage space to get to him. "Oh, I'm sorry." she said to Cap. "I get 
nose bleeds, too, on my bad days. Here, I know just how to handle them. 
Want me to help you with it?" she asked Hank. "I know just how to get them 
to stop. Fast." 

Cap's eyebrows furrowed into brief puzzlement before amusement began to
surface. "Be my guest." he told their young charge as he kicked the bloody
garbage can under the bench where she couldn't get too near it.

Felicia reached into her jeans pocket and pulled out a plastic sandwich 
bag which she put on like a glove to wear. Then she dug that thumb against 
the side of Cap's nose until it closed off just his one bleeding nostril. Then 
she used her free hand to hold and grip the back of his neck gently. "I'm 
going to squeeze a bit back here, ok?" she said, digging her fingers deeper 
into his thick curly hair.

"Sure..Anything you say." Hank told her, trying not to laugh out loud. He 
even leaned forward further so she could reach the back of his head even 
easier. Hank held still when she began to lightly massage the area where 
his skull met his neck bones. "Ughhff. Ow?" he said when he began to feel 
a tingling pressure under his skin and the tightening of muscles he
didn't even know he had somewhere deep inside his forehead.

"That means it's working." Felicia told him. "Only a little bit more." she told
him quietly. "My bleeds quit right away when I do this."

Roy and Johnny gathered around, pursing their mouths shut in growing 
amusement where they stood watching the whole affair as they both 
leaned against the side of the squad.

"Here you go, Cap." said a returned Chet a few seconds later, handing 
off the ice bag. He only hesitated briefly at the sight of the girl who was 
apparently effectively treating Cap. Hank took the bag from Kelly 
but he didn't use it. He let it stay dangling between his knees.

Felicia let go when Cap began to clench his eyes shut against the tingling.
"Ok. It's stopped." she told him, letting him go.

Cap instinctively brought the handkerchief up to his face again but the 
strong trickling didn't return. He breathed in experimentally. "There's not
even a clot inside." he told the paramedics. "Thanks miss. Wow, I feel like
a new man." he said, standing back up onto his feet. 

Roy and Johnny's eyes grew wide and they both briefly examined the truth
of what Cap reported with their probing penlights. "Really? The bleeding's
over?" Gage asked.

"Yep. Incredible. Usually these last a half an hour or more for me. How 
did you do that?" Cap asked the little girl.

"I just want people to get better. And then they just do." she shrugged.

Stoker smiled. "Sounds like Dixie at the hospital's been a big influence on
you."

"Oh, she has. But this is something I've always been able to do." said
Felicia.

"Then I'm very glad you got here. We wouldn't have had any fun at all if I
couldn't eat lunch because of my nose." Hank said, tweeking hers.  
He peeled the blood smeared bag off Felicia's hand and tossed it away into 
the waste can along with the unused ice bag. Then he shoved the whole 
mess into Chet's stomach. "Here, Kelly. Make yourself useful and go clean 
that up for me. I've got an introduction to make. Come on, miss. Let's go find 
a sink to wash off a bit first. Then let's go meet your mom for that necessary 
meeting before we chase her away for good. Are you ready for a lot of
company besides us? There are nine fire dogs hiding someplace around 
the station. And six of them... are puppies." he told her.

"Puppies? I like puppies almost as much as I love horses." Felicia crowed.

Gage cleared his throat.
"Yeah, well, we'll get your horse fix in sometime this week, too. And that
shopping spree on our off days. I've got a ranch and four mustangs just 
waiting around, bored, at home." said Johnny.

Felicia giggled and nodded eagerly at the suggestion. Then she
followed Cap politely into the locker room.

A woman who could only be the girl's mother came out of the kitchen 
where Marco had fetched her at a ring of the doorbell. "You think she'd
have chosen Disneyland or Universal Studios for her final fling at the
world." said the woman bravely. "But no, she wanted to stay in a firehouse
and shadow some paramedics whom she considers her heroes."

"Hello, ma'am." DeSoto and Gage greeted her. "We'll take good care of 
her. Dixie McCall's taking this time off to be able to stop by each day 
every few hours to make sure Felicia's vitals stay normal and that all of 
her medications are taken properly. Does your daughter have any dietary 
restrictions or other situations we should know about that might effect 
her ability to get up with us at all hours of the night when we get called 
out?"

"None that really matter at this point. She has no real physical restrictions, 
either. Her body tells her when to slow down. The first thing she'll do when
that happens is that she'll ask permission to quit whatever's she's doing 
long enough to go take a nap somewhere in the sun or under a warm
blanket. I'm just worried that she'll effect how you'll be able to carry out 
your normal jobs." said the sad, dimly haunted woman.

"We've got that covered." said Gage. "You see, we have a fireman who's
not actually one who drives a truck that's just like ours. His name's Charlie 
and he's one of our fire department's mechanics. He'll be chaparoning Felicia
at all of our response scenes, including watching over her and he'll keep 
her from the things that she shouldn't be observing as situations warrant. If 
you'd like, we can have Dixie ride along with the two of them, too, if that'll 
make you feel more comfortable. We won't be placing her in any danger. 
Not even in the slightest. For a fact, Dixie's the one who trained both of
us when we first started out in the paramedic program five years ago."

Felicia's mother shook her head. "I trust you. Please do whatever you
feel's best. For some background, Felicia's father was a....fire chaplain." 
she breathed deeply. "But he was killed in a freak car accident when 
Felicia was five. She was in the car with him. That's probably where she 
got the idea to want to go see the places where he lived his working life 
when he wasn't off duty and at home with us. Then.. when my daughter got 
sick a year later, I.... didn't know what to do to help her with that. Not 
until Dixie came to me last week and told us about the Foundation. Then 
everything just got miraculously clearer and clearer. And now we're here. 
I want to thank you for taking her in." said Felicia's mother seriously, but
then unbidden tears filled her eyes. She brushed them impatiently away.

"We're glad you came." said Johnny, taking her hand.

Roy smiled. "Did you know your daughter's real good with first aid?"

The mother's eyes remained clouded. "Umm, she was in the girl scouts once."

"Well, she helped out Cap a couple of minutes ago with an intriguing new
way to handle a nose bleed. Johnny and I were actually struck speechless
and I'll have to admit we were completely dumb founded with the results 
she ended up with."

The mother dropped her head. "Oh, her "healing." She been doing that 
since she was a baby. It doesn't matter if it's.... a skinned knee or a 
headache. When Felicia's around, everybody's pain and suffering seems 
to...just disappear. You know what I mean?"

"Yeah." said Johnny softly in awe. "We saw that."

The mother looked up with shining eyes when she saw Cap returning
from the bathroom with her daughter. "Some days, I think it's so 
entirely not fair that she'll never grow up to become a nurse or even a 
doctor. No, it seems like Felicia's one angel that G*d wants back to His 
side far, far earlier than most."
 
With a sharp honk, Charlie the mechanic's horn jarred them as it
sounded from the rear. Marco jogged over there, after showing Felicia 
the way to the kitchen as Cap went into the office with Felicia's mother, 
and popped open the doors for him. 

"Howdy, boys. Is she here yet? Boy am I ready for a day out on the
town with a beautiful young lady." Charlie said, polishing his fire 
department badge nervously. "Which way did she go?"

----------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Photos:  None. 

****************************************************
From: Voyagerliveaction Staff <theaterhost@voyagerliveaction.com> 
Date: Wed, Jan 3rd, 2007. 6:00:00 pm 
Subject:  Spotty Situation   


It was late in the afternoon. Station 51's crew still found 
themselves runless as the warm sun continued to trail across 
the smog bound cloudless sky. 

Dixie McCall's suitcase and belongings were firmly encamped 
on one of the two bunks the gang had laid out for the nurse 
and their young guest behind the taupe fire blanket curtain that had
been rehung nearest the shower room. An I.V. pump and a portable
dialysis machine on standby glowed softly in the darkness wih
occasional bleeps, but the beds themselves, were empty. 

Giggles were echoing into the kitchen from the back yard.

Charlie and Felicia, were frolicking with some of the dalmation puppies
in a shallow pool, constructed from a spare portable water vat off
the engine. McCall hovered protectively by them, earning a thorough 
soaking whenever she got too near the playing pair. 

The rest of the gang was cleaning up their finished lunch dishes with 
all the windows open so they could listen in on all the latest laughter.

"Got ya!" shrieked Felicia at Charlie the mechanic as she encouraged
one of the bolder puppies to climb all over an impromptu raft she had
built out of a mop sign for him. "Come on, Charlie. Pick yours up! She's
got to get used to the water soon, or she'll never get a- adopted.." coughed
Felicia.

Dixie, hearing the telltale wheeze, scooped Felicia out of the water and into
a towel. "Ok, hard play's over. Time to rest or your chest'll fill up again faster
than you want it to." she told the little girl.

"Aww, Dixie. I'm not even that tired yet." moaned the girl, sputtering under 
the firm drying the nurse was giving her where she stood on the lawn.

McCall was no nonsense. "What sounds like more fun? Going on a rescue with
the fellas, or sleeping off too much swimming without ever getting out to see one?"

"You know which one." squealed Felicia as Charlie splashed her toes again.

"Ok, so into your jeans and fire cadet shirt with you. It's almost rush hour. A
call's bound to come in before too long." Dixie told her.

"Ok, ok.. I'm hurrying." said Felicia.

Puffing, Charlie left the small pool for his own towel slung over the picnic
table near the old engine. "You've worn me out little girlie. How about a game
of something more sedate....liikkkee ...a nice quiet game of monopoly?"

"I'll kick your butt!" Felicia accepted.

"You're on! You and Dixie against me and the rest of the guys.." Charlie
crowed, scooping up the pups one by one to carry back into the station.

Felicia and Dixie captured the rest and dutifully lugged them inside before
closing the station's back outer garage door.

Bonnie wasted no time in scrubbing all of them dry with her tongue. Several
pups joined Henry's bulk on the couch to warm up using the hound's ample
body heat. 

Chet protested. "Hey, you soggy spotted lumps. I was here with Henry first." 
he complained, shoving aside his newspaper's page to glare at the tiny white 
dogs that were multiplying around his legs on the couch cushions as water 
soaked into his uniform.

Three jumped off at his "growl" and soon sacked out inside a tipped over garbage 
can, joining a watchful Boot, who wasn't pretending to be the proud father of 
the milling brood. 

Bonnie finished her rounds and settled herself on Dixie's lap where the nurse 
was laying out a pediatric BP cuff on the kitchen table from her nurse's bag.
"Come on, time for your three o'clock vitals check. How are you feeling?"
she asked Felicia.

"Like I'm being interrupted.." grumbled the little girl where she was happily 
counting out everyone's bank of Monopoly money. "Cap you can be the boot.
And Boot you be the Scotty dog since you are a dog." she planned out.

The gang chuckled. Kelly shouted out. "I'll be the hat, since I'm already mad."
he said, trying to wipe off the wet spots on his pants' legs. 

"Mad hatter?" quipped Gage. "That certainly fits."

"Very funny, Gage. Don't tell me you're gonna be the battleship."

"Why not? I battle huge fires all the time."

Cap put in his two cents worth. "Stoker you be the anchor because you
are anyways for all of us at any fire as an engineer."

"I'll take it." said Mike, smiling. But then the grin disappeared instantly
and he cocked his head at a telltale click.

The rest of the gang froze in place as Boot, Bonnie and Henry all rose
to their haunches and into attentiveness, as they thoroughly ignored the 
whimpering still damp puppies seeking their attentions.

"Wait for it." said Stoker, glancing up at the intercom speaker.

An all county tones sounded from the grille, two toned, and urgent stamped.

Cap licked his lips when the message was over. "Relax all. Richter scale one.
And not even a foreshock. Won't amount to anything being that sized. That 
rumbler didn't effect the public infrastructure in the slightest." reassured
Hank.

Kelly bit his lip. "Yeah, but what about the public's mental structure? Seems 
like in the past, to me anyway, that folks during a full moon always flip out at 
anything going on that's even a little bit unusual." Chet said, frowning.
"Including an unfelt earthquake."

"I agree." Cap said, crouching near the floor to calm Boot, Bonnie and
Henry down. "But..there's nothing we can do until something decides to
happen out loud." he reasoned.

Dixie finished taking Felicia's vital signs. "You're fine so far. Gluc check in
twenty minutes. And yes, I've already packed the monitor in our jump bag. It's
sitting in Charlie's rescue squad, waiting for us." she told the girl, winking at 
the rest of the gang to keep up that name for the Los Angeles County 
maintenance truck. 

The others winked back and fought down grins of amusement.

"I suppose my oxygen's there, too, huh?" sighed Felicia, rasping
wetly as she leaned over the table to straighten out another pile of play
money.

"So's mine." said Dixie. "You never know when the smoke's gonna catch
the both of us unaware." she insisted. "And we're long overdue for going 
to a fire. So let's get cracking." she glared at the wall intercom.

On cue, a station's call went out as she mocked the local superstition.

"That's more like it!" Felicia celebrated.

Charlie smiled, spreading his arms wide. "Your 'Wish' is our command, little 
lady." he told the struck numb girl. "Come on, let's go." he said, reaching out for 
her suddenly nervous, sweaty hand.

##Station 51. Auto accident involving a collapsing structure. 1714 Yellow
Brick Way. 1714 Yellow Brick Way. Cross street Ozman. Time out : 16:07.##

Johnny Gage hastened one of the dogs ahead of him. He whistled at Bonnie.
"Come on, come on. You've always wanted to go, so get in! Now's your
chance, too, girl." he encouraged the small dog with a grin. The tiny Yorkie 
leaped up onto the seat in seconds. "Henry and Boot have already had
their turns a long time ago when you weren't here." he told her.

Dixie ended up carrying Felicia the last few yards to Charlie's truck parked out
front in the driveway when the girl's excitement turned her legs to noodles.
"Don't forget to put your helmet on." she teased her tiny charge as the mechanic 
threw on his navy blue jacket and moved the red truck aside to allow Squad 51 
and the Ward engine to take the lead. 

Then McCall joined up with Roy and Johnny to ride shotgun in the squad's center 
seat. "Have you found out how many people are involved in this one yet?" she 
asked.

"Not yet." said DeSoto, eyeing the road in front of them. "Why don't you find out?
Truck One's tuned in to our frequency so watch what you say. Felicia can hear
every word."

"You're pulling out all the stops for her, aren't you?" Dixie smiled.

"She wants to experience what our lives are like working our two jobs, Dixie. 
Only one way to do that." Gage grinned. "Just like you taught us."

"Yeah, I know. Gotta dive right into the deep end." Dixie chuckled.

Their humor dropped off when they rounded the next turn and caught a glimpse
of the scene to come.

"Oh, my word." Dixie said, picking up the mic. "How on earth did they do that?"
she wondered out loud. Then, suddenly, there was no more time for wondering.
"I'll contact Rampart for you just as soon as I inform the chief what's going on."
shouted Dixie to Johnny and Roy as they bailed out of the cab. "Squad 51 to 
Battalion One. We've at least five victims involved at the scene. One is walking 
wounded." said McCall, squinted to see the shadows, moving and still inside the 
car's shattered windows. Then she leaped out to intercept a young man cradling 
a bloody cheek in a scrap of clothing.

Cap aided her report on his HT to the listening in Battalion. "L.A. Respond a 
second alarm assignment. Our car is situated inside an apartment building. Notify 
the gas company. Marco, break out the electronic sniffer. If there's a pipe leak
anywhere, I want to know about it."
  
Gage and DeSoto started to gather their medical and extrication gear.
"Bonnie, go to where Charlie is. Go watch the girl." Gage told the Yorkshire
with a sweeping gesture as he got into his air bottle. He could hear screams
from someone older and female from the back seat. "Ma'am. We're here. Now 
hold as still as you can and don't move around. We don't want the car to
slip down even further before we've anchored it." Johnny warned as he jogged 
towards the strangely catapulted station wagon.

Johnny didn't even see Bonnie beeline for Truck One, who was waiting with
her doors propped open to provide any mechanical aid the crews might need.

He saw Charlie running towards them with a rope to tie off onto the rear bumper.

On the other side of the car, Roy kept in his mask as he reached into all 
exposed window spaces to feel around for carotid pulses. "Everyone back 
here's alive." he told his partner and Cap, who was hovering nearby. "I can't tell
about the driver though. I'm not seeing anyone down by the steering wheel."

"Runaway clutch?" Hank guessed, peering through his face plate.

"Maybe." Gage nodded, as he began to assess the most vocal passenger
in the backseat. An older, stunned lady. "Easy, ma'am. I'm Johnny Gage
and this is my partner Roy DeSoto. We're both paramedics with the Los 
Angeles County Fire Department. We're here to help you. Where are you 
hurting the most? Is it here where your head's bleeding?"

The old woman could only moan, unable to reply. Very soon, like
the others, she fell slowly silent and still against the door jam under 
Johnny's carefully probing hands. 

"Hey,," Gage yelled at her, reaching for her neck pulse.
He sighed when he found it a few seconds later. "Mike, grab out all the 
oxygen bottles and masks we have. Get one for each victim. Dixie, she's 
the worst. I'm seeing dura mater pushing through a skull fracture on her." 
he said pointing to the first lady he had examined.

"Ok. I'll go grab an airway and a backboard." she said, as Johnny
carefully fitted a collar around the old woman's neck.

"You got five tanks, Johnny." said the engineer, laying several down. 
He included a charged hose near the car in case it was needed to wash 
away spilled gasoline on the lawn or inside the apartment house's basement.

Hank shouted. "Chet, go grab the portapower, K-12 and the jaws."

Lopez gasped in relief as he hastily cast around the gas detector's probe.
"We're clear. No natural gas in the air." he shouted.

Every firefighter within earshot shed their scba gear then as fast as they
could, grateful for the added mobility. Hastily, Chet wormed his way
into the hole in the wall. "There's a man down here under the car!" he
shouted. "And it looks like it's gonna fall on him if it sags another foot."

Cap snapped out an immediate order. "We can't wait for the other engine crew.
Marco, Stoker, Chet. Get down there. See if you can brace the front end. Keep
it from slipping. Use the jaws if you have to."

"Ok, Cap." they said, running for the apartment's patio door. Vince, the cop,
had already broken the glass on one of its panes to unlock the door. "Boys!
In here. Neighbors say the owner's not home. They're on vacation."

"Well somebody is, Vince. There's a man in there."

"What?"

"He might be an ejected driver, but I doubt it. The force here wasn't great enough
to break the windshield completely open." Hank said, peering once again
into the depths of the vertically up-ended car stabbed through the brick wall.

"Hang on a minute." frowned Vince. "Let me check it out first." he said, drawing
his gun.

"You think this might have been a robbery in progress?" Cap asked, putting
two and two together.

"Probably, knowing this neighborhood. Your freak accident might have 
interrupted one." said Vince, cocking back the safety on his gun.

Gage's face twisted in anger at knowing that he hadn't yet escaped 
the criminal element for the day. "Ok, we'll wait. But not for long. Three in there
have serious life threats according to Roy. They'll die if we don't get them 
out of there just as fast as humanly possible!" he said to Vince's disappearing 
back.

Captain Stanley lifted his HT. "Charlie. Pull back. 10-95."

##Copy. Retreating to a block away.## said the mechanic, putting the truck 
into gear. He told Felicia nothing, hoping Bonnie was enough to distract her 
from the obvious reason for why they were abandoning the scene.

Dixie caught the weapons code and knelt behind the rescue squad. She was
tending the young man who had been staggering in the street when they had
arrived. He was quiet now, and cooperative. McCall contacted the hospital.
Keeping her head low, she watched the firefighters do the same as they hugged
the violated wall, waiting for word from Vince that all was clear to continue.
"Rampart, this is Squad 51." Dixie hailed.

##This is Rampart, go ahead.## replied Dr. Brackett. His voice was peaked
with interest as to what she had knowing the nature of her special 
assignment for the week.

"Rampart. We've a multiple casualty MVA. One minor. Four possibly five
are still inaccessible. In triage priority. Victim One. Female, approximately
eighty two years of age. Open skull fracture. Rapid loss of consciousness.
Vitals are : Pulse forty, respirations ten and shallow, BP 170 by palpation.
Minimal external blood loss but there are definite signs of building ICP." Dixie
said. "She's airway protected and being hyperventilated on oxygen." the
nurse said, seeing a gutsy Marco reaching up an arm into the car to bag 
supported breaths into the woman's ET tube.

--------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

In the base station, Kel rapped on the window to get Morton's attention.
He handed over a fresh note pad to the young resident and held up five
fingers. Morton took a pen from behind his ear and started scribbling
as McCall's report continued.

##...Victim Six. Walking wounded. A male of 16. Slight concussion with a 
large laceration of the face. No blackout. Probable cracked ribs on the right. 
Breath sounds are normal. He says he wasn't in the car. Claims it only grazed 
him as it sped by out of control. BP is shocky however, eighty palp. I've got
him lying down, covered, on light O2. Pulse and respirations are normal. Stand
by for the other victims. We've a possible weapons situation. ##

Not for the first time, Kel felt a pang of worry for Dixie in the field 
that was more than just a doctor's usual professional concern. Flicking 
off the recorder for a moment, he voiced his feelings. "Dix, be careful out 
there. I'm speaking as your best ever friend when I'm saying that, so hear 
me out."

There was a pause over the radio.

"Dix? Tell  me what's happening." Kel began again, still pausing the dictation tape.

##.....We're safe, uh, sort of. At least no heavy armor's involved in the equation.
I'm signing out until the next one's been freed.## McCall sputtered. Then the
biophone connection went dead.

"Dix..?"

Nothing but static met his ears. Followed by a derisive snick.

"Dix! Answer me, G*d d*mn it!" he cursed, sighing in irritation. He turned the 
recording reel to reel off. "You know, somedays I think she's even more hot 
blooded and impulsive than I am." he grumbled.

"Wanna bet?" Morton quipped, taking another sip from his coffee cup.

"Who asked you!" Kel roared, nearly spilling his own in his ire.

-----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Vince ran to the basement, carrying his revolver in front of him like a talisman.
He still had fresh memories of the shooting they had dealt with that morning.
"I don't know why I picked Los Angeles to work in, somedays." he whispered to
himself when he finally got to the car's location inside the basement. Luck was
with him and the bright setting sun filled that end of the crawl space with daylight.

He found the man Chet Kelly had been talking about. And he was awake. A quick
visual proved that he was completely unarmed, sprawled where he was on his back.
He lay underneath the steaming chassis of the car, but there was no blood at all.
Vince put away his gun and snapped it shut. "Hey, are you hurt at all?!" the 
policeman asked him, crouching near his face.

The man startled, shouting. "I told you they would find us. Stupid. Stupid. Stop 
looking at me!" he yelled at himself oddly, repeatedly reaching up to touch the
under carriage of the car. "It's always better if you don't watch! So why did you
do it?!" he sobbed, his emotions flipping from fear, to anger to total confusion.

"Hey, keep your hands down or you'll burn yourself." Vince warned him, changing
his position as he gave the all clear high sign to the fireman outside with a triple
slap on the car's roof as a signal. "The muffler's still hot. What's your name?"

Again the man's eyes didn't connect with his. "Crazy jerk. Gotta go to ma's now.
She'll understand. She always does. Making good time walking the straight line."
he chanted, his eyes darting rapidly around him as he gasped in severe emotional
distress. "I'm gonna get me a good meal..." he sobbed. "Right away."

Vince saw that he lay as if paralyzed. ::No 'petrified' is the word.:: he corrected
himself. He saw a bottle of pills lying on the cement by the man's waist. It was
a psychogenic suppressant. He gave voice on his radio. "Engine 51. HT Mary
One. This man's a space case. Altered level. Seems like some kind of nervous
breakdown or something. I found these fallen out of his pocket." he said, holding
up the medication. Shaking it, he found that none of them were gone. "And he
hasn't been taking anything for it lately." A flash of plastic at the man's wrist
caught Howard's eye. "Looks like he escaped from the hospital. He's got a
Belliveue I.D. on."

"Is he pinned?" Chet asked peeking his head through the opening in the wall
around the car again.

"No, nothing's even touching him. But he's a little manic. We may have to cuff
him and drag him out of there before you guys can get to work on the car victims.
I'm gonna need some help. He's restless and might be primed to fight if he finds 
out that we're not one of his hallucinations." Vince told Kelly.

"Ok, we'll be right down. Is there any gas leaking from the car in there?"

"No, just water from the smashed radiator!" Vince replied.

Kelly waved back and disappeared. "See if you can get him to crawl out
to you. He's not safe under there!"

"Ok." Vince replied.

Captain Stanley quickly got his update from Chet. "All right. He's a psych call.
Urban Rescue's here. They're grabbing support struts, H-bricks and anything 
else that can be used to start shoring up the front end of the car. I don't want 
anything to move once we start tearing it apart to get the rest of those people 
out of there." Hank told his three non-paramedic firemen.

"Hank!" cried Vince.

"Yeah?"

"It's not that bad in here. Looks like the car missed the rafters of the first floor
foundation. And nothing's caving in yet."

"Thank heavens for small miracles." Cap sighed gratefully. "Hold tight. I got
your backup coming. Stoker's a wrestler on his off days."

"Terrific." Vince smiled tightly. "Just what I need. Lots of muscle." 

Mike, the engineer came down the stairs of the apartment into the basement a
half minute later with Marco and Kelly. 

Vince held them off with a gesture. "Leave your gear up there. Have nothing on
you that can turn into a weapon." he ordered. "Then you can help me." he told
them no nonsense.

The three pulled off their jacket halligans and left them on the stairs out of eyesight.
But they kept their helmets on.

"All right. You can come down now." said Vince, flashing come on fingers. "We'll
try the direct approach and each take an arm and a leg. I don't think he's even
aware of us. But watch for kicking and punches anyway."

"Don't forget the biting." Chet reminded him.

"Never that. I still got the scabs and the tetanus shot bruise from the last one."
the policeman grinned, still inching forward towards the delusional man.

"Are you convinced he's not on some kind of upper?" Lopez asked, not relishing
the idea of a superhuman effect that could possible come from their target.

"Positive. His pupils are normal." hollered Gage from where he was squeezed
inside the car again over a second unconscious woman. "I can see them from
here." he said.

"Like he said. Strictly psychogenics." Vince shrugged.

"Ok, I'm trusting you like I always do the men in blue. Hope you're not letting 
me down, Johnny, with that observation or there's gonna be h*ll to pay later on
when I get even with ya for lying to me." Kelly said softly, inching forward for the
man's nearest leg like Vince was doing with an arm.

Gage rolled his eyes, but kept working on establishing spinal precautions on his
patient. He didn't bother to reply.

Marco and Stoker reached for the man's contact burned arm and second
leg with their gloves at the same pace as Chet and Howard.

"Ready?" asked Vince of the firemen, speaking quietly. "Don't make any
sharp moves. Just be gentle. He may not trigger into a violent episode."

"How can you be so confident of that?" Kelly whispered nervously, licking
dry lips.

"I can tell by the color of his bracelet. It's yellow. He's an outpatient.
Somebody's probably looking after him. Most likely he lives in the building
and was attracted down here by all the commotion." Vince told him.

"Let's hope so. I'm set." Chet nodded. So did Lopez and Stoker.

"Now..." Vince said softly, and he grasped one of the man's arms as he
tensed, ready for anything.

But the mentally ill man's only change was to collapse into tears at the
contact. He let the firemen drag him clear of danger like a limp rag doll.
"Where's my sister?..She...she's always there for me. Where...where is
she. Can you tell me where she is?" 

Vince rolled him over and handcuffed him for his own protection before
hauling him to his feet. Quickly Stoker examined him for other, more
serious injuries. Then he stepped back. "He's clear, Johnny."

"Ok. Get back here. We'll cut this gal out first. Get the K-12 going."
Johnny requested. Then he turned to his partner. "How's he?"
he asked of the elderly man Roy was fitting with an oxygen mask.

"Two broken legs. Nothing else. He's even starting to come around a 
little." DeSoto answered.

"There's a child underneath my lady. She's awake but catatonic or
something. Respirations are normal."

"Anything else on her?"

"Mild cuts and bruises. Reactions are fine. But I want to board her up
anyway considering the damage the car's got." Gage decided.

"Better safe than..." Roy broke off, swallowing as the hard lessons of
the day suddenly struck him ironically.

Gage grinned mildly. "Yeah. I know what you mean. I've got goose
pimples."

Roy DeSoto crawled out of the car when the first critical was carried
out by stokes. He got onto his HT just as the second alarm station arrived
to help them stabilize the automobile's positioning on the overhang.
"L.A. This is Squad 51. Respond Copter Two and Three to our location. 
We've three elderly criticals. Two females and a male. Station Eight 
has completed clearing a landing zone that has already been paced 
and checked out a block east of our location. There are power wires 
on the perimeter in this churchyard upwind. We have a squad car 
marking head wind direction. Request two additional BLS units
for three others involved in our incident for transportation by ground 
ambulance."

##10-4, Squad 51. Copters Two and Three report an E.T.A. of two 
minutes. Both ambulance units in four. Do you require a gas utility 
shutdown?##

Hank Stanley got on radio. "Engine 51, L.A. That's a negative. Pipes
involved were for water only. They're still out of service due to a 
homeowner construction project." he said, climbing out of the hole in
the basement wall. He eyed the clearly inspection marked tags on
the valves of the network appreciatively. ::Smart family. They've done
everything by the book according to code. Nice. Things'll go smooth for
them insurance wise because of it and they'll have their basement back
and rebuilt good as new in a couple of weeks.:: he thought.

##10-4, Engine 51. Timestamp 17:03. Helicopter assistance is airbound.##
said L.A. 

Squad Eight intercepted Roy and Johnny where they had carried their four
patients. Gage pointed to the skull fractured senior that Lopez was still bagging.
"BP's climbing. I've just begun her mannitol drip." he said, picking his ear off
the biophone receiver. "She's unresponsive totally. Glasgow's eight."

One of the medics had one of their engine crew take over for Marco. "How
about the others?"

"Blunt abdominal trauma, guarding lower left quadrant with diminished bowel
sounds and a broken humerus on her. She goes second. This third male's
shocky, history of heart trouble with bilateral tib/fib fractures. His scope's
clear, showing NSR without chest pain." Gage continued. "We've got in
their I.V.s, T.K.O. as their BP's are rallying to low normal. Brackett's promising
a surgical ward for all three on arrival."

Roy was kneeling over the little girl from the car. "We can't figure out who
she belongs to. Perhaps one or more of these folks are her grandparents."

"Condition?" asked eight's senior paramedic.

"Unmarked physically. Looks like she was protected by one of the adults
when the car went through the wall." DeSoto told him. "But she has yet to
answer questions. All vitals elevated slightly above normal. I found nothing
on this next middle age man's head to toe past a couple of forearm burns.
He's a confirmed psych patient in emotional crisis. Here are his meds. He's 
been handcuffed for his own protection for being delusional. He's non-violent.
Vince'll follow behind his rig on the way in, in case things change."

"Where did you find him?" asked one of the urban specialist firefighters who
had tagged along to carry all the backboards into the street to lay them next 
to the medical gear.

"He was found under the car, hiding or something from his sister. She's probably
his legal out-of-hospital-care guardian." said Roy, watching as Stoker dressed
the man's burns with lidocaine salve and gauze wrap. DeSoto added more.
"Dixie's with a walking wounded, a struck pedestrian, over there. She says he's
stable and uninjured enough for ground transportation. Like our mystery child is."

A loud buzzing filled the trees over their heads as the first of the helicopters circled
the block, checking for obstacles in their flight path.

"There's our cue." said eight's medics. "We've got your two worst criticals in the 
first bird." said Eight's captain motioning his relief paramedics to take over for Squad 
51.

Charlie, seeing the situation was back to normal, pulled back behind Squad 51.

"O.k. I'll take the leg fractured victim in Copter Three, when she's landed." Gage
said.

Charlie, seeing the situation was back to normal, pulled back behind Squad 51. 
He only led Felicia forward into the treatment area when Johnny motioned for
him to do so. Charlie grinned. ::So he could cover up folks's modesty and the 
worse leftover bloodstained bandages that had been used to care for people's 
injuries.:: the mechanic thought. ::Our gal's observing, true. But she's young 
enough to still warrant sensible shielding from reality.::

Felicia immediately sat down next to the other little girl sitting next to Roy on
the yellow plastic tarp. "Is she ok?"

"She's fine. Just a little shaken up." DeSoto said. "Be careful not to get in
the other firefighters' way when they start moving these patients out. Looks
like you and I get to fly into the hospital next. They'll be circling back to
pick us up in fifteen minutes or so."

"Aren't you taking anybody in by sirens?" asked Felicia.

"Not this time. Our captain and the captain of another company felt that
Johnny and I needed to be relieved of the really badly hurt patients in order to 
recuperate a bit ourselves from the effort it took to cut them out and rescue 
them."

"Aren't you mad about that?" Felicia asked incredulously.

"No, of course not. We're all on the same team." Johnny told her.

"Oh. Maybe I can help you while we wait for the taxi helicopter, 
Mr. DeSoto."

"Sure. Want to hold this man's I.V. bag? If you get tired holding it up in
the air. Go ahead and tuck it under his shoulder. It'll still drip ok if you do 
that. Don't get startled if he talks to you. He's awake and just resting."

"All right." said the sick child. Johnny and Roy could see that she was
absorbing all the sights and sounds around her like a sponge. She
eyed her patient's leg splints with open curiosity and a whole ton of
mature respect that far belied her tender age. 

Very soon, Dixie came up and knelt down close to Johnny. "Anybody 
going 'out' ?" she asked significantly.

"Nope. Just flying out. Nobody's dying today." Gage whispered to McCall.
"That's why we let Charlie bring Felicia in here." he confided. "How's your 
car struck patient doing by the way? We never got to see hide nor hair 
of him." he teased. 

"He shipped out by Basic Life Support. He's already at the hospital and
yelling for his release papers." she replied.

A short distance away, Dixie saw Felicia work the magic she had only
heard about from Captain Stanley. She was holding the car child's hand
while she spoke with her. "Hi. I'm Felicia. I know how you're feeling right
now. I can see it in your face. Is this man in the stretcher your grandpa?"

The dark skinned little girl nodded and began to cry. 

"It's ok to cry. I cry all the time when I'm scared and you must be really
scared because you think you're all alone. But you're not alone. You're
with friends now. And everybody knows there's nobody friendlier than a 
fireman, or a policeman, or even a nurse. Right?"

The sobbing little girl ducked her head shyly and rubbed her nose when
she stuck her other dirty hand out from underneath the blanket she
was wearing about her shoulders. She continued to cry.

Felicia only held her tighter. "Your grandpa's going to be all right. The 
hospital will fix those legs of his good as new. You'll see. I see doctors
fix people all the time."

"You do?" asked the little girl.

"Uh huh. What's your name?"

"Mary. Mary Simons."

"Mary, that's a nice name. How old are you?" asked Felicia.

"I'm almost six years old."

"Wow, we're almost the same age." Felicia told her. "Maybe that
means we can become really good friends. Would you like that?"

Crying, and nodding yes, Mary buried her face in her hands. Tenderly, 
Felicia, who was barely bigger than Mary was, slowly rocked the 
frightened little girl to calmness inside a close, comforting embrace.

Near them, the grandfather sighed under his oxygen mask. "Who's that?"
he asked Roy, who had bent close when he stirred into motion.

"Just a guest rider of ours from a community program. She's here on 
a kind of field trip today with us, sir." DeSoto replied.

"How did she do that? My grand daughter hasn't spoken to anyone 
in two years.*gasp* Not.... since her mother died of cancer." he 
whispered in surprise.

Dixie smiled, resting a hand on the old man's shoulder. "Sometimes 
people are born with so much empathy, that it ... seems to leak out 
of them from every pore. And sometimes, when someone else
really needs help, I sincerely believe the one in trouble can sense 
that incredible, tangible caring inside of those very special folks 
who're ultimately there, tending to them. And so they simply have
no choice then, but to get better." she said, her voice choking up.

"Angels on earth..." sighed the man as he fell back asleep, giving into
the effects of the morphine Johnny had given him. "They're so rare."

Dixie's eyes filled. "And precious." Then she took hold of herself and
got back to work.

----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Charlie's radio crackled. ##..Spap.. Truck One! Firefighter trapped.##

"What happened?" snapped Charlie, opening the back of his work
truck for the tools there.

##His K-12 jammed and the skewed blade caught and snagged his 
jacket sleeve. He's not injured but he can't get himself free.## reported 
a fireman.

"Where are you?" the mechanic asked.

##At the car. Front end.##

"Ok, I'll be right there. Whatever you do, curb your instinct to just
hammer away blindly. Those units are made to disassemble easily."

##10-4, standing by.##

Roy grabbed Charlie's pants leg as the mechanic began to jog by
him while he put on his helmet. "Did I hear that correctly. A fireman
trapped?"

##Nothing for your department, slick. This one's all mine. It's just
a fatigue klutz call. Hey Felicia, wanna see ME in action?"

"Sure.." said the little girl. "I want to see it all." Then she turned to
Roy and Johnny. "How long have I got?"

"About five minutes. Tops. Then we have to leave with the chopper."
Roy grinned.

"Ok. Call Charlie on his radio and we'll come back in a hurry. I promise."
she said, eagerly taking Charlie's hand as they made their way
into the apartment building, led by Vince.

Once they got there, Felicia saw the whole extent of damage the car
took in the car crash. "Oh, that's bad. Did the brakes go funny?"

"Perhaps. Well, at least the emergency brake anyway. Mary's grandpa 
said they were just sitting at the curb in idle when something called an 
accelerator pedal sank down to the floor on its own and shot the car 
into full forward throttle." Charlie explained. "Ok, boys, where is he?"
he asked the circle of firemen dismantling the car enough so that a tow
truck on the way would be able to complete freeing it from the tangle
of the basement's impact twisted up pipework. 

"He's over there on the cellar stairs by the other window." they
replied, jerking fingers or glove thumbs to show him the way he had
to go.

"Ok. Felicia. Do you see this they're using? It's loud, I know. Just
cover your ears. This tool Mac's holding is called a zipgun. That's how
we got Mary's grandpa out so fast. The only thing faster, is the K-12
round saw that some probie just jammed up. And he's my current
emergency call. Let's go get him out of his bind." he said, motioning.

"Wow, are those really jaws?" Felicia said, eyeing up a second tool
in another firefighter's hands. "They're so big."

"Yep. Wanna hold em?" Charlie asked, winking at the man.

"Sure. But they might be too heavy for me, I'm not as strong as I used
to be anymore." Felicia said.

"That's ok. We'll help you." said Scott, the firefighter from Urban Rescue
who was assigned clean up detail. He gave the running spreaders to Charlie 
while he walked over and picked up the car door they had torn free earlier
to get the old woman with the head fracture out. "Ok, Felicia. Wanna eat
car door for supper? Go ahead. Set the blades into the window and then
hit the red button. Wait a minute, first put on my helmet and slap the face
shield down."

Charlie knelt down behind her and together, they shredded the door apart
in about ten seconds.

"Wow.. That's so cool." Felicia said. "Now I can say I used a fire tool on
a real rescue."

"This one's a true lifesaver, girlie girl. She's saved over three thousand people
to date if I remember my figures right on this particular set of jaws." said 
Charlie proudly. He handed the idling tool to Scott. "Ok, let's go bail
the grunt's butt before he dies of sheer embarrassment. He'll be the laughing
stock of the department if he wears that saw on his arm for much longer."

"Will he?" Felicia's mouth flopped open.

"No.. only his stationmates get the honor of ribbing him for a Need-Charlie 
goof call. And they only get to do so for a couple of days. Then his captain
will put a stop to it before things get ...out of hand." he joked.

Felicia got the pun immediately. "Out of hand.. Charlie.. that's a good one."
she chuckled, laughing so hard her eyes started tearing.

"Shhhh, or he'll hear us. Stop giggling. You don't want to hurt his feelings now
would you? He's raw enough around the edges as it is."

"No.." Felicia choked, still laughing. "I won't. See I can turn it off." and she
plastered her mouth shut.
---------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Soon, Captain Stanley gave his disembark the scene orders to the gang.
"Marco, Roy's awol to Rampart with Felicia and Gage on backflight.
They're with Copter Two so take the squad home. Charlie'll meet the
three of them there at the hospital after her air round and we'll have them 
all back just in time to ring the dinner bell."

"Right, Cap. All our gear's accounted for and stowed." Lopez reported.

"Good going. Chet, Stoker, we'll take the engine and rewrap the ropes.
Somebody, hang that hose we didn't use, too, to drain. It should be dry 
and set by morning call for its repacking on the Ward's secondary 
hosebed." Hank said. "Ok, enough said. Let's get back to base and
log this run in greater detail. The chief's gonna want the nitty gritties
before sundown because this was a sudden, unexpected MCI."

-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

"So what we were on was called a mass casualty incident?" asked
Felicia to Roy.

"Yep. And we didn't even know we had one until we actually looked into
that smashed car. It happens that way sometimes when you least expect it."

"Well, I think you did a nice job running it, even though Captain Stanley
hasn't told you that yet face to face. I thought I'd be the first to tell you 
that since it was my first one ever." she smiled with a derisive no 
nonsense nod.

"Thanks." said Gage, checking the copter's cabin out and resupplying
everything he had used on Mary's grandpa's previous flight from his
supply box he had received on landing. "You didn't do so bad yourself.
We were so surprised and so was Mr. Suder, when Mary started talking
again. How'd you convince her to open up again?"

"I knew she wanted to, so I told her by taking her hand that it was her 
choice. Everyone else she knows always orders her to talk before she's 
ever ready. She doesn't like that very much. She feels pressured." said 
Felicia.

"Wow, a budding psychologist, too. I'm impressed." Gage said, patting
the cot. Wanna see what makes up one of these birds as far as patient
care? Come on, I'll give you a tour."

"Ok.. I...oh, " and Felicia sat back down again. "Sorry. I ....think I'm getting
a little tired on you." she sighed, gasping.

Roy's eyebrows raised. "Short of breath?"

Felicia finally nodded. 

"Huh, maybe it's our altitude." DeSoto guessed. "We are up kinda high."

"That's all right. Easy fix." Gage said. "Come over here and we'll 
have you to rights in a couple of minutes. We'll be done with ya long 
before we touch down so don't start freaking out on us." he said, 
patting the cot.

Felicia eyeballed DeSoto getting a hissing mask ready.

"Ohhh, not the O2 therapy thing....again. I thought I .....was 
doing great....all this week.. not needing it.." she puffed.

"Hey, You think I wasn't puffing today hacking that car apart? I
was you know. Look..." and Gage sucked in a few lungfuls on
the mask himself, filling his chest. Then he wove and faked a faint
on the caretaker's bench. "Whoa.. I think I took too much.." he
said, acting dizzy. "Roy, I think I'm kicking the big one..Uhhhhh."
And he fell over.  Then his eyes opened. "Here Felicia, your turn 
to take a hit." he said miraculously recovering. "I think I'm better." 
he told her.

Felicia cracked up, laughing so hard that she made the pulse
oximeter Roy slipped onto her finger bleep in warning. "Ok, but
just for a little while."

"That's cool." said Gage.

A few minutes later Felicia opened her eyes where she lay on
the made up cot. "Johnny, Roy? Can I ask you a personal question.
You..you don't have to answer it if you don't want to. I..wouldn't
want to make the two of you feel uncomfortable..but, I have to
ask this, since...you both see this happening alot...with other people."
she said, lacing her hands across her chest. She seemed very small
under the oxygen mask and for the first time, strangely vulnerable to
the two paramedics. It made something deep inside of them, vaguely
ache in a pang of emotions.

"You can ask us anything, Felicia. We're friends, aren't we?" Johnny
finally said, breaking the silence. He fussed with her hair and pulled
some strands out that were tangling the elastic strap of her oxygen
mask. Then without asking, he began to braid some pleats up one
side of her head. "Go ahead, we're both listening and we don't have
to share this with your ma if you don't want us to."

Felicia started at the ceiling of the chopper and a faraway look filled
her eyes as she went someplace that only she understood in her mind.
"I want...to ask you...what it's like...to die." she said finally, meeting their
eyes with her own suddenly haunted ones.

Gage was taken aback and his mouth opened and closed many times,
but he found he couldn't speak.

"I think I can answer that for you Felicia. But I don't know if it'll give you
the exact answers that you've probably been looking for all this time 
since you learned of your final diagnosis from your doctors... 
But I can try." DeSoto whispered. 

Wanting silence, Roy pulled the beeping pulse ox off Felicia's finger.
Then he rubbed his lips and crossed his arms together in front of him
in deep contemplation. "I...died once."

"How?"

"On a wire..." Roy answered softly, the distant look still shining in his
eyes. "I was dead enough that Johnny and a paramedic trainee found they
had to use CPR and a defibrillator on me in order to bring me back to life."

"Did it hurt?"

Roy's face twisted in memory. And doubt. "I'd be lying if I said it didn't. But
I wasn't in pain for long, Felicia. And soon, I was feeling..and seeing things
that I couldn't quite understand as actually relating to me in any way. But then
I felt... more than anything...that I've ever felt... in my entire life."

"What did you feel, Roy? Were you scared?"

"No, I wasn't scared. I knew my friends were there. Trying to help me
breathe. And awaken again." DeSoto said. "But...I- I remembered that
I felt so alone, while it was all happening.."

Felicia began to cry silently, silver tears glistening in the growing darkness
from the lights of the helicopter controls. But she didn't move. Nor did she
take away her tiny hands that were gripping Roy's tightly. 

Roy began to smile and his face began to dampen in new tears. 
"But then I felt surrounded by incredible joy, Felicia. It was endless. There
were people there.. that I knew... who had gone before I had. And the joy
was ....so deep, that I didn't want to leave it. But I knew it wasn't my time
to be there and so I left. I left the moment I felt the shock course through
my body and... then Karen said that I was breathing on my own again and
Johnny was saying something stupid like.. how's he doing? from somewhere
nearby. It...was weird.." Roy said, meeting Felicia's eyes. "Really weird.
But I can honestly tell you both, that if I were to have to die again.. I...don't 
think I would fear it. Not at all. For I think I was shown that... death is simply,
another change of life. A change that just takes us, somewhere else
and into another direction where we can continue to grow and learn..
and love.." he thought carefully.

"I think that answers my question very well. It fits what i think I've seen 
before at the hospital." the little girl said, drying her eyes. "Now I think I can
tell mom that I'm not afraid to die when my time finally does come." she 
whispered.
----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

It was three weeks later at the station house. Dixie McCall was happily
bringing the last dalmation pup to her new home when the guys finally 
asked the question.

"How's our little gal doing, Dixie? Is she still eating up the sight of
passing ambulances and fire engines?" Cap asked. "Every time we
see one ourselves, we think of her."

"Yeah, we sure do." said Marco.

Dixie's smile never quite went away, but it saddened measurably in
newly remembered heart pain. "I'm sorry to say this but uh,...she 
passed this morning boys, around nine a.m. or so. It was painless, 
according to her mother and Dr. Brackett." she sighed. "I was there."

The guys didn't know what to say, all they did was reach out and pet
the squirming restless puppy, like the nurse was doing, just to have
something to do with their hands.

Dixie McCall looked up and her eyes were shining brightly.
"Do you know.. that you boys were all she could talk about last night?"
Dixie sniffed, hugging the pup. "Her mother wanted me, uh.. to give you this.
It's her school paper. The one she said she wanted to write for her Wish."
she said, digging into her ample purse.

The gang was stunned silent until finally, Chet Kelly held out his hands.
"We..we're honored to have to this. Can... can.. are we allowed to read it?"

"Of course. That's what it's for, guys. So we can share the world through
Felicia's own eyes as she experienced it." 

With that softly said, Dixie left on silent shoes.

---------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

It was a long time before the gang decided where was the best place. They
finally chose the front driveway in front of the station. And before they 
turned to the first page, they called Charlie, to spend those moments looking 
through Felicia's eyes with him.

Charlie was nervous. They all were. And just about every fireman held
a dog in their laps where they all sat in a circle on the asphalt. Boot, Bonnie
and Henry, an ample belly or even just a tiny tail. It didn't matter. The dogs 
were suddenly needed pillows of support for the sharing to come. 

And come it did. :)

In bright glowing colors and fresh ideas. Talk of the day spent with Johnny on
his ranch playing with the horses, and rich technical descriptions of the 
afternoon wasted playing paramedic with Henry as the patient on the couch.
Chet's water fight and Charlie's swim with the dalmation puppies. It was
all there. And it was happy. 

Something that the whole gang felt they couldn't possibly wish for as wanting 
anything more for fulfilling the dream of one tiny, unique little girl.

------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

"Hey, you know what else?" burped Charlie from where the leaned on lawn 
chairs against the garage as they digested ample pots of hot cocoa in
memory of Felicia.

"Huh, what's that?" asked Gage.

"Do you know why them dogs of yours were acting so nuts today?"

"They weren't acting nuts today, Charlie. Nah..." said Gage, lying through
his teeth.

"Sure they were. You're lying and you know it. I seen the way all your
bunks don't got any pillows on them anymore. Ripped them up did theys?
Heheheheh. Wanna know why? And it wasn't because of no pithling earthquake.
I'll tell all of yous why. It was a total solar eclipse that happened, that's why."

"When? Today? Huh. And here I thought it was just a power fluctuation 
on the grid. This morning, right?" Cap sighed.

"Yep. It happened precisely around nine o'clock. On the dot."

Roy and Gage felt a shock at first and then a trickle of warmth, felt deep inside.
"Right when she died." murmured Johnny and Roy together, as one.

Charlie leaned forward. "What was that?"

"Oh, ...nothing important. So, what do we want to do today to honor Felicia's
life. Keep and name a pup after her?" Roy suggested.

"Nah. Not too original. We'll think of something. And it'll be something truly 
special." Chet said. "All we have to do is put our heads together and think
about it a bit."

-----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Later that night, Johnny had a surprise visitor to his bunk. It was Bonnie.
"Heya girl, what are you doing up here with me? I thought you sleep
with Henry and Boot in Henry's house out back nowadays."

Bonnie just stood up on her haunches and whined delicately.

Understanding at once, Gage swept the tiny Yorkshire into his arms and
gave her a hug. "Yeah, I miss her, too." he whispered, kissing Bonnie's head
softly. "Shhhh, it's ok. Yes, she's gone. Let's just try and go to sleep. 
Maybe we'll dream about her." he grinned.

Soon, ...they did.


FIN 

Episode Forty    Canine Capers
Season Five
Emergency Theater Live  
 
----------------------------------------------------

Photos : None.

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

                                 End Credits --  Episode Forty (Fifth Season)
                                     
                                                      §§   Canine Capers   §§


                       :)       This episode is dedicated to the Make A Wish Foundation.  :)
                                 who grants the last requests of passing children so that
                                 they may live out, at least, one more beloved dream before
                       :)        they leave the Earth. They are all bound for heaven.           :)   

 
The Story Unfolds...

Season Six, Episode Forty One..
 
 §§   Attrition   §§
 
Debut Launch: January 1st, 2007. 
 
**************************************************
From: "Roxy Dee" <laterrapincabesa@yahoo.com>
Date: Wed, 10 Jan 2007 23:41:33 -0800 (PST) 
Subject:  That Certain "Flare"~~ 

"Man, this is the best idea you've had all day." said Johnny, letting
loose a sigh of pure displaced aggression as he inhaled his double
decker triple pickle cheeseburger.

"Huh. If my idea of eating now's the only one you've liked today, 
we're in for some very serious trouble." Roy said sucking on his 
straw stabbed soda angrily in reply.

"I don't figure." Johnny frowned.

"We haven't had a run all morning. We've...just been.. tooling around, 
waiting for something exciting to happen." Roy insisted.

"Don't we always?" Johnny asked sarcastically, gesturing the obvious
with a nod at the still turned on HT sitting at the ready in front
of them on top of their paint peeling, bleached out picnic table.

Roy rolled his eyes and let loose a longish complaint. DeSoto took a 
deep breath. "All we have on the agenda for today, barring any 
unexpected emergency calls, is one school tour, the yearly vehicle
maintenance checks on the squad and engine, and a date with
Dr. Brackett at his come one, come all semi-annual paramedic
to doctor brainstorming meeting at Rampart. So why are you
bristling every spine at me and the rest of the guys today? You've
made us all feel like it's suddenly the end of the world today."

His focus of concern was one that Johnny had already dealt with 
mentally several hours ago. "So,.." mumbled Gage with hungrily chewing,
overstuffed burger cheeks. "You just made it sound like a little assigned
P.R. sidework's suddenly the purest torture. I thought you liked your job." 
he said, eyeing up his partner a little askance.

"I could ask the same thing of you, pal. My ear's are still blistering from
the last time you started venting out your lips. You've been contradicting 
anything and everything I've tried to bring up into friendly conversation 
ever since we rolled out of bed for roll call at five a.m... " DeSoto told him, 
brandishing a steaming french fry. "....LAST Thursday." he glared.

"I have not." frowned Johnny, defending himself.

"See? There you go again!" Roy snorted in frustration. "O.K., come on, 
let's go. If we're going to enjoy any of the time that's left during our 
new unofficial lunch hour, it's gonna be sooner rather than later."

"Wait a minute. Where are we going?" Johnny asked, scooping up his
food and two pop cups as he hastily kept up with his partner's fast
retreat back to the rescue squad. He already had their full set of keys 
out.

"I think I finally figured out the one place that I can take ya that'll put that 
smile, that I can only dimly recall appearing on your face once for a brief 
second since the beginning of summer, back where it belongs." Roy said, 
no nonsense while he started the ignition sharply. "Now put your 
helmet on so I can leave."

Johnny glared at him. "Geesh, all right already. I'm set." he said, 
abandoning his still steaming meal into its paper bag in between his 
shoes with one hand while he shoved his helmet on with the other.

"Thank you." Roy groused, as he took off from the fast food stand's 
emergency vehicle parking space with a squeal that rubbed the curb.

Whining, Henry the dog awoke and lifted his head from the seat that
stretched between the paramedics when Roy's irritated, lurchy
driving caused the early vestiges of car sickness to begin rising 
in the pit of his stomach.

"Sorry, boy." apologized DeSoto, reaching a hand over to Henry's head
to scratch it affectionately. "I guess I must be having a bad day because
someone else near me seems to be having one, too."

"Speak for yourself." Gage said with a sour face.

"I thought I already WAS." Roy shot right back without taking
his eyes off the road.

The two paramedics sat in stony silence for a whole five minutes.
Only once did Roy "cheat" and flick on the squad's reds to scatter
a pack of slow drivers who seemed not to be noticing the green
light hanging in front of their noses.

Soon, DeSoto took a right turn, heading into sunlight.

"Is this it?!" Johnny demanded with a snarl, jerking his thumb
out the passenger side window at something very large in front
of them.

Roy sneezed when the tang of sea salt finally did a number on his 
sinuses. "Yeah." he replied tersely. "I hope you're satisfied. Because 
it's my absolute last desperate ditch effort trying to be nice to ya, for
the rest of the shift."

"Well, far out." Johnny suddenly beamed, wide eyed and happy. "I had
no idea you had THIS up your sleeve." 

"Had what up my sleeve?"

Gage looked at Roy as if DeSoto was having a sudden stroke.
"A lunch trip bringing Henry to the ocean. You did remember that 
Stephanie's on duty the same schedule as us, right?"

"Who's Stephanie?!" Roy roared, doubly puzzled by Johnny's abruptly
changed mood and line of thought. Roy's pot was definitely simmering
over the brim. And then some.

"My current "chick" as Chet would put it if he was here." Johnny sighed,
happily leaning an elbow out the open window frame. He turned
into the sharpish hot breeze ruffling his hair as he sniffed the wonderfully 
cooling humid air that just was beginning to blow into the squad. 

Roy's mouth flopped open. "Oh." he said, simply. Then he started gaping
as he tried to put two and two together. "Is she a firefighter or something?"
he finally asked, running the locations of the county's sister stations 
that he knew were along their current route through his head.

"No." Gage said, adding nothing more. He just went on smiling stupidly.

DeSoto made a noise of disgust when he realized that Johnny was in
love. "Oh, so that explains it. You're suffering from some kind of
separation anxiety being away from her." he diagnosed.

"I am not." Johnny frowned indignantly at Roy.

"Sure you are. I've seen you this way a couple of times before."

"With who?" Gage denied.

"With Valerie, the kids-from-h*ll mom we met when she got hit by
a car right in front of us for one......" he started to tick off on a couple
of fingers.

"Oh, I'm over her completely, Roy. For Pete's sake, she's more suited 
for.. for.. Craig Brice than me, if you ask me.." Gage frowned, pausing 
at his sudden double pronoun delivery. 

Both men sucked in bated breaths, thinking about it. Then both just as 
suddenly shook their heads in dismissal and pushed it away.

"Pull over right there in that parking lot. I think I see her." Johnny said
excitedly. He pulled his helmet off. "Hey, Stephanie!" he called out, 
sticking an eager head through the squad's side window. He started to wave.

Roy peered over their dashboard at the scene in front of them and screwed
up his eyebrows in confusion. He noticed nothing but a pair of sunbathing 
moms watching a toddler of someone's frolicking in the shallows on the beach.

Gage called out again, earning an irritated over-the-shoulder glance from
both the women wearing bikinis.

"Pervert.." one of them hissed. Then the two of them turned back around
and they began ignoring the rescue squad parked directly behind them on
the concrete causeway edging the beach.

Johnny was oblivious.

Coughing absently, Roy stopped trying to figure it out. He simply opened 
his driver's door and watched as Henry slipped off his lap to land with a 
soft plish onto the sandy beach that was slowly heating underneath them. 
"There you go, Henry. Have fun. You got five minutes. We'll hit the horn 
if we get a run." he promised.

"No, Henry! Not that way, ya stupid mutt. She's over there.." Johnny called
out to their station dog. Henry ignored him, plopping down under a salted 
piece of driftwood. Already, his tongue was lolling out and panting from the 
heat of the day. Gage made a noise of disbelief. "And Cap says he's the best
for interacting with all the school kids? I'm beginning to wonder."

"Tell you what. Next time I have to make a choice for community ed detail, 
I'll go recruit Boot and Bonnie. They'll be a good match for you. All three 
of ya are disgustingly shaggy." DeSoto snapped.

"Hmph.." Johnny, said, only half paying attention to Roy. His eyes were
focused not on all the bikinis flocking around them on the beach, but
towards a lone manned lifeguard tower. "Ah, ha. I knew it. This one's hers."
he celebrated. "Hey Steph!" he finally improvised using the squad's 
mini megaphone he grabbed out from the glove compartment. "You got
a minute?" he boomed out into the air.

To Roy's amazement, the yellow L.A. County Beaches Rescue Truck 
idling in the sun started into motion towards them from where it was 
parked with buried tires in the sand at the base of the light blue 
painted wooden life guard tower.

"You rang?" said an attractive lifeguard with long, glowing brown hair as
she pulled up next to Squad 51. "Why, hello Johnny. This is quite a
surprise. Did you come here to be nice to me?" she smiled sweetly. 
"Or gloat..?!" she snapped, her face suddenly shifting into an angry 
coldness.

"Whaa - huh?" Johnny choked, stopping his pursing lips stretch out his
window trying to kiss her.

The woman in the red L.A. county swim suit and patch let loose.
"I found out about that bet you have running between Captain Thorpe
and your own Chief McConnikee. I can't believe you, you pathetic
hose jockey. What kind of paramedic are you who bets which agency 
FAILS to pull the most victims out of trouble in a month? That's- that's- that's 
sick, MISTER Gage, even for you." she glared, leaning back into her 
driver's seat."For your own personal information, we saved seventy nine 
people last week. Top THAT." she glared. "And that was fighting strong 
rip tide currents, too. Not simply moving through thin air over land 
with a weeny trickling little stream of water squirting out a hose in front
of you in defense against the elements. This is one bet, Jonathan 
Roderick Gage, that you are going to LOSE. Goodbye forever." she
scintillated, falsely sweet, spinning her tires in the beach sand.  

Stephanie Holden, the Baywatch Lifeguard, indignantly returned her 
truck to the foot of her nearby watch tower. She waved a red orange 
rescue can at her partner still sitting in a sea facing director's chair to 
show him all was well with them despite the visiting non-code-R pair 
newly arrived from the fire department.

Johnny's face continued to gape like a fish. Then Gage began to steam
out both his ears around the edges. "Chet... I'm gonna kill him..." he 
rumbled ominously.

"Looks like we're not the only ones with the same brilliant 
take-a-picnic-to-the-beach idea." DeSoto said into the heating 
stillness inside the cab. "Look right over there." said Roy, pointing down 
the beach to the north."Guess you're not gonna be the only one babe 
watching during lunch today, Johnny."

A red Gran Torino with a white stripe was parked askew on top of a mat
of drying kelp in the sand off the parking lot. Its two blond and brunette
haired detectives had their windshield angled so that it had a 
bird's eye view of both the bikini moms and the lifeguard tower's front. 

Opening his mouth widely, Roy began to laugh until the tears ran down
his face in sheer rivulets.

-----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
Roy felt a whole lot better. He was getting into teaching their school kids
all about fire prevention and safety. He also liked throwing in a healthy 
dose of first aid training, too. There were plenty of skills that children 
their age could handle very easily. Cold water for burns... The heimlich 
maneuver for choking... Mouth to mouth for heart attacks and drowning...
 ::Good old Henry here's a great ambassador.:: Roy thought. ::I don't 
know how we ever managed these demonstrations before without 
having a station's dog for focusing their interest.:: he wondered.

Johnny was quiet, taking the physical demo part of things as he let Roy
do all the talking in front of their class. Gage was lighting a garbage 
can on fire by rote, when it happened...

-------------------------------------------------------------------------

Photo:  Gage glaring with a burger full mouth outside.

Photo:  Roy and Johnny eating at a hot dog stand.

Photo:  DeSoto and Gage arguing in the squad.

Photo:   Beach scape of the Malibu skyline.

Photo:   Henry the basset hound camping out by the seashore.

Photo:   Two bikini moms watching a toddler frolick in the ocean.

Photo:   A yellow rescue truck view of a light blue lifeguard tower.

Photo:   Lifeguard Stephanie Holden looking out of a Baywatch truck.

Photo:   Johnny Gage glaring out Squad 51's window behind him.

Photo:   Stephanie making a condescending face in sun on the sand.

Photo:   Starsky and Hutch's red and white striped car on the beach.

Photo:   A garbage can on fire in closeup.

**************************************************
From: "Cory Anda" <andacory@hotmail.com> 
Date: Thu Jan 11, 2007 11:00 am 
Subject: Every Second Counts.. 


A little boy's voice piped up. "Say, Mr. Fireman?"

"Yeah?" Gage asked, standing ready with a fire extinguisher
for Roy's next rehearsed segment.

"Why do so many firefighters show up for a medical emergency?"
he asked intelligently.

Henry began barking at the garbage fire from where he was sitting 
under a pile of girls' hands on the other side of the library classroom. 

Johnny's eyes never left the trash can as Roy's voice droned on about
what would happen next in their demo. A piece of flaming char rose
up out of the wire basket and drifted up on heat currents only to land 
on the carpeting at Gage's feet. He began to stamp on it to put it 
out before the rug could catch on fire. "Uh, Roy? I think it's about time.." 
he stage whispered. "This is getting kinda hot here." he hinted sotto 
voce'.

Roy wasn't paying attention. He was displaying a hose nozzle and
lever to the front row, all of whom were boys, while he delivered the
how-to-put-out-a-fire speech.

Another large apple sized ember floated up from the flames, this time
landing on Johnny's back to the horror of the school kids.

"Ow.. Roy.. I think I need your help here..." he said, whirling around
in a circle, first in one direction and then in another, trying to knock 
the cinder off his uniform shirt and down into shoe range.

The school kids began to laugh at his antics.

"Hey, Roy. Pay attention! I'm burning up!"

"Say mister. Why don't you stop, drop and roll?" asked a nerdy
little girl wearing tape repaired glasses that were broken by the 
nose.

The kids chortled when Johnny ignored her. Gage was beginning 
to panic when the scent of cotton scorching started rising up from 
between his shoulder blades.

Johnny's dancing only grew more desperate, and soon it became
incredibly funny to all the children and the one fire dog who were
watching in rivetted fascination. "Ouch! God D-- uh, I mean Gosh 
darn it.. RoyYYY? Code red! Code--"

"Whaa?" DeSoto said, looking up for the first time from his
captivated audience, still in a half grin. "Ohmyg*d. Hold still."
he choked in surprise. Snatching up a fire tarp from their demonstration
table, he spun the blanket like a fisherman's surf net in the air until
it landed solidly on top of his partner. Then he tackled him to the floor.
Both paramedics fell heavily onto the rug in a jumble of arms and legs.
Then DeSoto rose up quickly to begin smothering the flames. "Are
you getting burned?" he said, slapping hands up and down Johnny's
back.

"NO.. Jeez, watch out for the trash can!" Gage said, pointing a couple
of fingers outside the muffling blanket. "It's flaring."

Roy vaulted over Johnny, picked up the fire extinguisher that
Johnny had dropped onto the floor like a sack of potatoes, and pulled
the pin on its handle.

"I can do that!" shouted an eager little girl who had most of Henry in
her lap.

"Stay seated.." Roy shouted, yelling over the hissing vapors of the
fire retardant he was blasting out over the garbage can. The fog
began to spread out over the floor, covering the children like soup.

Hysterical laughter ensued as children began disappearing, one
by one beneath the mist.

Henry only began to bark louder at all the commotion.

Hearing his back sizzling stop, Johnny uncovered himself and shot
to his feet, still groping with both hands, still trying to reach behind 
himself. "Roy..is it out?"

"What? The can? Yeah...."

"No, my back!"

"Turn around.." DeSoto ordered, re-aiming his nozzle in Johnny's direction.

"Oh, no! Don't get m---" Johnny sputtered as a rich plume of extinguishing
gas tented over him, coating his hair, skin, back and face with a thick 
drifting flour of white, compression chilled gas.

The children jumped to their feet, laughing hysterically and pointing 
as Johnny slowly exposed when the vapors surrounding him
began evaporating.

"Very funny.. Ha.ha.ha." Gage glowered to himself. He didn't even feel
Roy whirling him around to check out the hole burned in over his T-shirt.
"Some demo this is turning out to be." Johnny told him. "Next time, let's
use our usual newspaper instead of the school's typing paper. 
It burns into heavier ash that probably won't float around so 
inconveniently the next time we light up." he lectured Roy. Gage 
re-shot into action when a stray ember started drifting towards a 
little girl's bouncing curls. He snatched the air to catch it like a 
football player fumbling the ball until it was out. "Ouch!.. That smarts
like the mother f--" he bit his lip, hard.

"No kidding." said the girl who had offered the putting-out-a-fire advice
a minute earlier. "Fire's hot, mister fireman. Aren't you supposed to know
about that kind of thing already?"

Johnny shot her a dirty look and began dusting off his hair to rid himself
of all the bright white extinguisher powder that was slowly subliming off
because of the room temperature of the air. Soon, all the white mist,
and condensate, were gone.

They had just settled the kids back into their viewing ring, sitting indian 
style on the floor in front of them, when the teacher popped her head 
back into the classroom. "How's it going, guys?" she asked.

"Just peachy. I think we're a real hit.." Gage growled at her.

Before she could react, Roy stepped in front of Johnny quickly. 
"Uh,.. everything's under control. We've finished the fire demo part
and uh, we'll be doing show and tell of all our medical gear next."
he said lamely, thinking fast as he returned the pin back into the
handle of the frosted fire exinguisher he still held in both hands.
"Ouch, that's cold.." he said, dropping it. Miraculously, it stood upright
on the floor neatly by his feet. DeSoto smiled lamely.

The teacher substitute took one sniff at the smell of smothered paper
smoke in the air. "Hmmph.. Ok, I'll see you in about five minutes or so."
she said, looking at both firemen oddly. She especially looked at Johnny's
fire retardant sculpted hair. He was looking a bit like James Dean, 
with the way it was plastered to his head. Hastily, Johnny combed it 
back to normal with a couple of fingers. "Class, are you having fun yet?" 
she asked, shrugging.

Roy and Johnny began wincing for the worst.

"YeahHHHH!" came the loud cheer from every child in the room.

"They're really great." said one over-excited little boy.

"Ok.. I'm going back to my office again.." the teacher said timidly,
reluctantly, pointing back down the school hallway. "Bye.." 

She left her classroom doorway VERY slowly, one watchful eye
after the other.

Johnny and Roy and all the kids just waved at her, until she was 
gone. 

Then Roy got back down to business. "Ok, now where were we?"
he asked the students.

"You were gonna answer my question about firefighters.." said
the intelligent, but now cranky boy, due to the fact that he wasn't
able to speak loudly enough any more over the excited 
chatter that was building up in the room.

"Oh, yeah, that's right. Why we send out so many firemen 
to medical calls.." Gage said, getting into it at last. He coughed 
once, for real, to rid his chest of the last of the garbage can 
smoke and then he took over for his partner, who made an 
immediate beeline for the water pitcher set out for them both 
on the teacher's desk. Johnny suppressed a stab of jealousy
when he saw Roy down two full glasses in a sequence of
rapid swallows.

Gage cleared his own parched throat and looked at the boy. 
"Ok, uh, I'll answer that. But first what's your name?"

"It's Jimmy."

"Ok, Jimmy." said Gage expansively, rubbing his hands together
in deep thought. He kept track of Roy laying out their demo medical
gear boxes and equipment onto the floor so the children could get
to see what they looked like a little better. "How do you want me to
answer that? Simple and easy, or the dictionary definition?" he 
chuckled, thinking he was being clever in his humor.

The boy simply glared at him with his arms crossed. "I.. am in
the fifth grade... What do you think?" challenged the boy.

"Dictionary definition it is.." Gage mumbled, his face struggling
to keep its professional firefighter paramedic smile. Then he
spoke up haltingly. "Ok..uh, you asked for it. heh." he said with
a dry mouth. He nodded gratefully to Roy when DeSoto finally 
handed him a full glass of cold water. Johnny slammed it back 
like a cowboy shooting shots of whiskey. "Thanks. I really 
needed that." he said to Roy. "Ok..the reason why." he said,
plunking the empty glass back onto the teacher's desk. 
"Ok, Jimmy, uh.. it's like this.." he said, flipping the teacher's 
chair around so he could straddle the seat and lean his still 
smoke sooty elbows onto its back support.
"We respond both an Advanced Life Support (ALS) Paramedic 
Unit and Basic Life Support (BLS) Engine or Truck Company on all 
life threatening emergencies.  This means that six personnel from the 
Fire Department might enter your house, with at least two of those 
personnel being firefighter/paramedics." Johnny elaborated, pointing
at both Roy and himself. "That's what we are. Uh, what we do inside
our fire department.." he said, then he broke off, forgetting what he was
going to say next.

"After that fire stunt, you still call yourselves real firefighters?!"
asked the cranky kid.

Roy, embarrassed, took over, giving Gage some cover in which to
recall his thoughts. 

Johnny didn't protest. He just got off the chair and knelt down over 
the med gear and started dragging out the items Roy began to 
speak about while he talked.

DeSoto continued where Johnny had left off... 
"In the event that cardio-pulmonary resuscitation, C.P.R.,
is needed, the paramedics wouldn't easily be available to provide 
advanced life support, uh, that is, giving injections and inserting 
breathing tubes,  if they were performing two person CPR 
themselves. The typical division of labor during these types of 
emergencies is usually as follows: One paramedic, the primary 
one, performs advanced airway procedures such as intubation on 
anyone not breathing. He gathers patient information, makes base 
hospital contact, receives and gives medication orders, and 
oversees all aspects of the ongoing and continuing patient care. 
Are you all with me so far?" Roy asked the children.

"Uh huh.." they said, rivetted by DeSoto's story telling. Even 
Henry was rapt.

"Ok." said Roy. "The secondary paramedic administers cardiac 
defibrillation, uh, heart electrical shocks." he corrected. "And 
he's the one to gain intravenous access using I.V.s so he can 
administer medications. And he oversees how the C.P.R. is 
going in order to make sure that it continues to be effective 
enough for the patient during different phases of treatment. 
Two BLS firefighters perform C.P.R..."

"Who presses on somebody's chest then if you two are too 
busy to do it yourselfs?" asked the girl holding Henry.

Gage piped up. "Our crewmates do, honey. They're what 
we call basic life support firefighters. They perform the 
actual C.P.R., even bagging oxygen into someone's lungs 
in between compressions." he said, holding up a teaching 
ambu and squeezing it before he handed it down to a child 
for a classroom pass around. Then he demonstrated a few
cycles of that kind of resuscitation with a second ambu
apparatus on the mannikin they had left lying sprawled 
and bare chested on the floor.

"Oh, ok." replied the little girl, squeezing hers a few times with 
its pressure valve disconnected mask plastered over her face.

Johnny added more. "One BLS firefighter also assists us with 
the preparation of all medical equipment and supplies we may 
need: the EKG monitor, the suctioning device, the spine 
board for transportation purposes. And the medicines we 
will probably find ourselves using, many of which have to be 
assembled at the rescue scene to maintain sterility."

"What's that? Stir?.. star..?" asked the brainy boy, who really 
wasn't.

"Sterility. That means germ free." said Roy.

::Or sperm free.:: Gage chuckled mentally in a joking thought.
Gage went on with his answer. "One supervisor's needed to 
oversee the entire incident call, our fire captain, to help with 
transportation and our patient's house-to-ambulance transfer. 
He might even be the one consoling family members if 
someone's really sick and we're working on them. Our captain's 
free to respond to questions, he can gather witness information, 
and even request additional fire truck and ambulance or helicopter 
resources if they're needed."

"Cool!" said another little boy, holding a training set of disconnected 
defibrillator paddles up in the air. He mocked shocked his best 
buddy sitting next to him who played along by falling over 
suddenly fake-dead and violated through the heart.

Gage grinned at their antics.

One little girl raised her hand. "But what if you get there, and it's
just a bee sting or something really dumb?" she asked Roy by tugging
on his pants.

"Oh, that's easy." said DeSoto, kneeling down to show her an oxygen
mask. "On many emergency calls, not all our fire personnel are needed.  
We respond everybody at first for what we think is going to be the worst 
case scenario, a C.P.R. call, and rank a response all the way down to 
release returning personnel by radio dispatch reports, if they're not needed. 
You see, the absolute best in patient care is always the Los Angeles 
County Fire Department's top goal and many times an extra pair of 
helping hands makes giving that care a step way above the state's 
usual norm, for all the citizens of Torrance." he said.

Shyly, the little girl tried putting on the mask, but it was upside down.
Gently, Roy connected it up to the dummy oxygen tank that was only
full of room air, readjusted it onto her face and turned it on. "There. 
That's how it fits. Kinda hissy, huh?" he asked her.

She nodded. "It sounds like a leaky balloon." she agreed.

"Hey, I wanna try.." said her neighbor.

Roy affectionately tousled the curls on top of the second little
girl's head. "Don't worry. You'll all get a chance to play with everything 
here." he said to the room at large. "But you're going to have to wait 
your turn in an orderly fashion, so everybody line up behind what 
equipment you think you want to play with and Johnny and I'll get you
started off. Once you get a chance to see the first thing, move 
onto the next piece of gear that you wanna see next. Don't worry
about missing anything. We won't stop until everybody's had a 
chance to--"

The sound of running feet interrupted them. It was the school's principal.
"Mr. DeSoto, Mr. Gage?" asked the well dressed man in a suit. 
"I'm Mr. Frank, Roosevelt Elementary's head principal."

"Yes? What's the problem?" Johnny asked instantly, reading that need
off the man easily.

"It's one of our third graders. She snuck out of class about ten minutes
ago and one of my chaperones just found her out in the playground. 
Apparently, she was playing on the monkey bars when the whole thing 
came loose and tipped over on top of her." he explained.

"Is she hurt?" Roy asked.

"Yes." he replied, as Johnny and Roy grabbed for their helmets and fire
jackets.

"Is she conscious?" Johnny asked, plying for more details as he pulled
out his walkie talkie from his turnout's jacket to call themselves out on
a response at their location. He barely noticed Roy running for the
parking lot and the rescue squad's real medical gear.

"No. But I- I- I.. think she's still breathing.." said the soft spoken, larger
man. "Her hand's caught on something. It's real bad. Cindy's out
there trying to stop all the bleeding."

"Ok, see if you can find this child's parental consent papers." Gage 
told him. He stopped the man by the arm when the principal tried to 
leave unthinkingly. "But first, show me the way out to her. " said Johnny,
prioritizing things. "Henry, go find the teacher and bring her in here
to mind all of the kids." he told their station dog. For safety's sake,
he took the acetylene barbeque torch that he and Roy had been
using to light the trash can paper and stuffed it away into a jacket 
pocket.

Henry barked once and loped out of the room to perform that task.

"Where did Mr. DeSoto go?" asked the principal defensively as they
quickly left the classroom. 

"My partner left only long enough to go pull up our rescue squad
to where she's trapped. You say she's how old?" Johnny plied.

"Eight and a half. My G*d, how can her teacher be so inattentive?
I always keep telling everybody on my staff to keep counting those 
heads." fretted the principal.

Johnny half grinned to calm the man. "It's summer time. The out-of-doors
is a siren's call for just about anybody this time of year, Mr. Frank. 
Can you tell me her first name?"

"It's Tasha."

"Ok, thanks. We'll handle it from here. Relax, we'll call the cops if
you can't find Tasha's papers in time before we have to begin  
treating her."

Mr. Frank began to calm down enough to fall into a fast walk.

---------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Gage didn't like what he saw when they finally got outside under 
the hot sunlight. The playground equipment that had fallen was
a multi story apparatus, complete with an upper level fort
and tire swings. He could see the motionless little girl, hanging
by her arm about thirty feet in the air. He lifted his live HT to
his mouth. "L.A., Squad 51. Roll Engine 51 to our location
and a laddertruck. We've a trapped girl inside a metal structural
collapse."
 
##Squad 51, 10-4. Rolling one engine apparatus and a ladder 
company. Time out: 13: 03.##

The playground chaparone had climbed the mock fire pole over
the sand pit near the collapsed monkey bars and was holding
onto it for dear life with her legs while she held onto the pressure 
point in Tasha's trapped arm desperately at the fullest extent of
her reach. "Hurry! I'm.. getting so tired." the woman moaned.

"Ok. All right. Just let go. I don't want you to fall from up there."
Johnny said, whipping off his coat and helmet. He immediately
went to the base of the pole. "Ok, slide down. I'll catch you
on the way down." he said, holding up his hands.

"I can't let go. She's bleeding bad."

"I've got a tourniquet right here in my pocket!" he said, pulling out
one from his hip holster. "I'll get up there and take over. Now
come down before you fall down." he told her.

##Squad 51, L.A... Engine 51 reports an E.T.A. of four minutes
to your location. Truck 9 is responding in six.##

"10-4. We'll be waiting.." Gage replied HT.

Gasping, trembling, the woman grasped the play fire pole,
leaving behind bloody trails from the soiled fingers she had been
using to aid Tasha. She slipped down the last eight feet
to the ground when her gripping strength finally failed to hold 
her onto the slippery pole. 

Johnny caught her as her feet impacted the sand. He absorbed
some of her momentum by rolling both the woman and himself over
onto one side into a muffled tackle. "You all right? You didn't 
sprain your ankles?" he asked.

"No," she sobbed, brushing messy hair away from her face with
her arms as she avoided getting Tasha's blood onto her skin
subconsciously. "Just help her." she cried, staying where she
was, lying on the sand.

Gage immediately started climbing, using his gloves to dry off
the pole as he ascended. Closer and closer, he rose up towards
the limp little girl hanging by just her left hand from twisted knot of 
overstressed playground pipework. He saw something 
thick and red, dripping and falling by him in a steady rain from 
up above. ::That's arterial.:: he decided, grunting as he worked 
his way higher and higher. The scent of blood only made him
climb faster.

He saw Roy running with the resuscitation gear and trauma
boxes. "Leave those for now and get belts and ropes. She's way 
up here with a life threatening bleed!" Gage shouted at his partner. 
Reaching the top of the pole, Johnny locked his feet and ankles 
around the pole to hold himself in place and he reached over 
for the little girl's neck and upper arm. Clamping a hold back over 
her effected brachial artery, he reached a second hand out by
the fingertips, trying to stretch far enough to feel
for her carotid pulse. ::Is it there?:: he wondered, not seeing 
clear signs of breathing because of the wind blowing the
girl's long trailing blond hair back and forth over her face and torso.

Johnny stretched even closer and very precariously from the
great height he had climbed on the playground fire pole.
"Tasha? Can you hear me?" he asked.

---------------------------------------------------------------

Photos: None.

**************************************************
From: "Pat or Cassidy or Jeff" <voyagerliveaction@yahoo.com> 
Date: Sun Feb 4, 2007 1:05 am 
Subject: Sheer Deprivation... 

Johnny was regretting his choice of action and decision to just charge 
right on in. "Roy, hurry up! I'm getting real tired here..." he grunted, holding 
tight to the pole, and the little girl as hard as he could.

"I'm coming up!" Roy hollered, climbing with three belts, two rope coils and 
gear enough to set up their three anchor points above the girl. "Is she viable?"

"Yeah.." gasped Gage. "...for now. As soon as you get her tied off, get her 
O.P.A." he grunted, yelling around the tourniquet strap he had moved and now 
held ready in between his teeth.

Roy quickly negotiated the tilted playground equipment he still trusted to be 
secure around the child. DeSoto tied off his belt on a primary strut he could see 
directly jutting up from a concrete plug beneath the ground and he reached for 
the first of his spare belts. 

"Get the girl's.." Johnny groaned, willing his fingers to keep on gripping the pulse 
point inTasha's arm. To Johnny, the tang of blood began to smell even saltier when 
the sweat running down his face began to evaporate. 

"Nope. You're first." Roy grinned tightly as he reached over towards them. "She's 
not going anywhere with that trapped hand and only you are in danger of falling. I'm 
sure you don't want Cap seeing you like this." DeSoto said, lowering himself carefully 
down until he hung above his partner and the child. "Don't move." he told Gage.

"Wouldn't dream of it." Johnny said, not looking away from the unconscious child's 
face. "Risky, doing this, I know, but oh, so worth it." he grimaced, blowing away a 
trickle of perspiration that was rolling down into his eye.

DeSoto snuggled on Johnny's belt to the anchor point he had created above them 
all and hooked him in securely. "Okay."

Gage let go and hung arms and legs limp in instant relief. A few seconds later, he
deftly applied the girl's tourniquet after hugging her to himself with his legs.

Roy climbed back up half a foot on his rope and got on Tasha's head long enough to 
insert the short airway and get in another fast primary assessment. "She's open, but 
panting." he reported. "Color's still fair." he said putting on the child's harness and belt. 
"But I wouldn't count on it staying that way." DeSoto reported. "Pulse's 120 and weak."

Gage made a noise of frustration. "Are you going up top to take some of the pressure 
off this hand?"

Roy tilted his helmet out of his way as he glanced up to where she was firmly
trapped by metal. "Yeah.." he decided. "The monkey bars on your side of her are still
okay. Here." he said, passing off a pediatric ambu bag that he had stuffed inside of
his jacket. "She might need this before the engine arrives."

Johnny took the manual breather, holding the bag valve mask in between his teeth while 
he cut away the clothes covering Tasha's injury.

"This, too!" DeSoto told him, passing off a small adjustable cervical collar. 

Johnny sized and fitted the collar snugly into place to immobilize Tasha's head firmly 
for the lifting move to come.

Roy slowly, inch by inch, made his way on top of and over the section of steel pipework
that hadn't snapped and warped into failure. "Is she set down there?" DeSoto yelled down.
"I'm gonna take her weight off that arm in a few seconds." he warned. 

"Yeah. Yeah." Gage answered. "Then bring me up a little so I can ventilate her. She's
starting to get suppressed too much on her inhalations."

Roy hurried and got the job done. Once he was satisfied that Johnny was comfortable and 
able to carry out his end of things, Roy concentrated on learning how the girl's left hand was 
pinned around the twisted metal rods that used to be the climbing struts of the elevated jungle 
gym. He marked a second written time in ink right on the girl's skin above Gage's tourniquet 
when he released the band for a few moments. DeSoto retightened it to halt Tasha's active
bleeding once he saw that her hand and some of the unfractured fingers and knuckles 
blossomed back into pink shades. 

"What's she gonna need?" Johnny asked Roy as he gave the girl an assisted breath of air
on the bag.

Roy sighed, thinking hard. "Just a sawzall. If we shear the main beam on her end and these 
two grip bars tangling up her hand, she'll come free." he replied.

"Good deal,..uh,..an update..." Gage gasped tiredly. "Her chest's still clear. Find anything else 
on her?"

"No. Nothing. Just that hand, those three fingers and the arm we already know about." Roy 
told him.

-----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Sirens grew in the distance and soon Engine 51 roared into view followed by Ladder 
Truck 9. The two trucks pulled up at the edge of the school yard. Hank Stanley and the 
captain of the Quint ran up to get info from Squad 51's paramedics in person. 

Hank put a hand to his mouth for shouting when he saw that Roy and Johnny's hands were far 
too busy for portable radio use. "What's her condition and situation?" he yelled up to them.

"Poor breather. Hypovolemic shock!" Johnny shouted down. "Get permission for a couple of 
I.V.s, Cap, for a nine year old female."

At the same time, Roy got the ladder company captain's attention. "Get a sawzall in the bucket.
A peds backboard with her in the basket will be the fastest way down."

Johnny's list kept coming. "And bring a splint with ya. For her upper arm, hand and shoulder." 
he added.

Cap did them one better. "And a second paramedic team to take over for you once she's 
on the ground. You both are getting depleted too long strengthwise to be allowed to do any 
transporting." Stanley ordered, seeing how much Roy and Gage were mouth breathing 
through growing fatigue despite their safety belts and supporting ropes. "Kelly, Stoker, 
go up with nine's men in the basket. Bring the squad's I.V. box with that spineboard and 
a universal air splint with a ton of elastic bandages. Take over ventilations while nine's 
crew cuts her free and immobilizes her.... Roy is she fully secured?" he asked, meaning 
both Tasha's airway and her dangling position.

"Yes!" DeSoto shouted. 

"All right." Hank  waved. "Her ambulance is on the way and your relief's coming in one. 
Hang in there. I got Lopez on the biophone to Rampart right now."

DeSoto gestured affirmation as he began checking and rechecking all three of the anchor 
points he had rigged for supporting everybody in the air. Then he contented himself with 
resting a few monitoring fingers against the rapid pulse flickering fitfully in Tasha's throat.

-----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

"Rampart this is Engine 51." began Marco from where he crouched on the street a little 
way from the active rescue scene. Already, he could see sparks flying as the stricken 
child was slowly untangled and sawed away from the collapsed playground cage on the 
second level. "How do you read?" Lopez hailed.

Dixie McCall toggled the base station's reply switch. ##Unit calling in, go ahead.##

"Rampart, we've a little girl trapped by the left hand with possible limb and finger 
fractures and severe hemorrhaging. She's unconscious. Airway, bleeding and 
breathing are under effective manual control. She's still undergoing extrication at 
this time. Our E.T.A. to the ground is..." Lopez looked up and eyeballed their rescue 
team's progress. They were in the midst of a coordinated move sliding the girl onto 
a roped in backboard inside the ladder bucket. "....about five minutes. She has on 
one tourniquet."

##10-4, 51.## McCall replied. ##What's your child's approximate age?##

"Nine or ten years old, Rampart." Marco replied.

##Start two large bore lines of Lactated Ringers at 20 cc's per kg. Continue supporting 
her respirations, supplementing with pure oxygen as soon as it becomes available. 
Establish an ET when warranted. Obtain baseline vital signs, get an EKG reading and 
add direct pressure to the wound site if the tourniquet still doesn't appear to be working 
well enough for you. 51, fly her in, doctor's orders.## she said as Joe Early,
standing next to her, made twirling motions in the air while reading her notes. 
##We'll have vascular and orthopedic surgeons waiting on arrival.##

"Ten four, Rampart. Two large bore of Ringers Lactate, treat for shock and transport 
out by chopper. We'll re-establish communication with you once she's in the air." 
Marco shared, still watching the firemen working above him.

##We're standing by.## Joe said. 

Lopez dropped the biophone receiver into its box and jogged to the engine. He switched 
on the loud speaker inside the Ward La France's cab. "Engine 51 to Squad 51. I've our 
victim's med orders. Two large bore of LR at 20 and we've a go ahead for an ET if necessary. 
I'll have her O2 waiting." he said using the roof megaphone speaker's boosted amplification.

He paused until Gage and Roy both looked up and nodded acquiescence. 

Then Marco switched the hand mic's radio frequency to Cap's main HT channel. "Engine 
51 to HT 51. Rampart wants an evac by chopper."

"Gotcha, pal!" Stanley shouted to him out loud from the other side of the ladder truck. Hank 
immediately got off his portable's incident command channel tuned in to the bucket firemen 
and shifted to L.A.'s main fire frequency in order to notify them of a change in their call from 
ground to air support.

Roy and Johnny had Tasha safely intubated and on the ground by the time the second 
paramedic squad arrived to take over her care and the rapid flight in to Rampart.  Unoccupied 
firemen assured a clear landing zone for Copter Two as she landed in the school's empty 
soccer field. 

The medic grabbing the hanging bags of I.V. colloid from Roy's hand shouted something 
over the growing 'thwap' of the helicopter's whirling blades as they approached the bird's 
loading doors. "Got her name yet?"

"Yeah. Here's her parental consent from the principal's office." DeSoto said, pointing under 
the head of the blood stained child's backboard. "First name's Tasha."

"O.K." waved the medic.

His partner took over Gage's bag squeezed ventilations. He eyeballed the blood that was 
drying on Gage's shirt and pants. "How much blood loss?" he asked.

Johnny shook his head marginally. "800 cc's. She's losing no more. Tourniquet on her 
upper left arm needs releasing in three." he yelled holding up the same number of fingers.

"All right." he said, patting Johnny on the shoulder in acceptance. "We got her." 

The two medics waved off Squad 51 as Ladder Nine firefighters helped load the child's 
board and the new paramedics' rescue squad gear into the hot running, waiting helicopter.

When Copter Two was just a dot on the skyline, Johnny collapsed onto his butt to start a 
serious resting period in an attempt to cool himself off. Roy plopped down right next to 
him as they watched Engine 51 and Ladder 9 tidy up the scene and playground sand 
before the police moved in with their cordoning tape perimeter barrier that would seal 
off the area for future city investigators.

--------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

"That was quite a spectacle, gentlemen." said the principal, handing the two exhausted 
paramedics paper cups full of ice water. "I'm just sorry this wasn't a harmless 
demonstration like everything else you did today."

Gage and Roy nodded their thanks for the cold drinks. "That was definitely NOT by the 
book." Gage grinned. "But,.. like you, I'm glad everything turned out okay." Johnny 
smiled cordially.

"So am I." piped up Captain Stanley meaningfully. He hefted up Roy, Johnny and the little 
girl's life belts significantly. 

Johnny held up his hands in apology. "Won't happen again, Cap. I promise." he replied, 
straight faced and serious. "That's one hot doggin' it experience I never, ..ever want to 
live out again."

The principal chuckled. "Oh, yeah? Too bad. They sure enjoyed it." he said, pointing 
over his shoulder with one of his thick thumbs.

Roy, Johnny and Cap glanced up and over in that direction.

From every playground facing window, all the firemen saw a jumble of excited, cheering
faces of school children who were celebrating what they had just witnessed first hand 
in what they thought was simply another phase of their fire department demo day.

Chet Kelly accorded them a comical little bow, doffing his helmet with flair as he stooped to
acknowledge their accolade, making every one of the kids laugh out loud.

Still giggling tiredly, Johnny realized he was receiving a couple of smacks on the shoulder.
It was Roy. Gage turned around to look at him.

"Come on." Roy said. "Let's get you cleaned up and into a new uniform before all those
kids get too close of a look at ya. Stoker's got a charged hose laid out with your name on it. 
There are fresh uniforms in the squad. I put them there in case we got all smucked up for
some reason before we finally got here to give our presentation."

Painfully, Johnny got to his feet. "Heh. Well, I remembered to bring extras, too." he shared,
donning the jacket Cap hastily handed to him to cover up his bloody shirt. "The only thing 
we'll have problems with now is figuring out whose is who's."

----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

A couple of minutes later the frantic playground chaperone from earlier gathered up
both empty water cups from the two paramedic's grips. "Is Tasha going to be okay?"

Roy raised his eyebrows empathetically when he saw the woman's lower lip begin to
quiver with worry. "Yes. Most definitely. She only had that nasty gash and a couple
of broken fingers to reset." he reassured her. "Nothing that a month or two's time
spent in a cast won't fix."

"Oh, that's a relief. I thought she was going to die." admitted the young woman.

Gage regarded her with gentle amusement as he wrung out his hair under the
shower Mike was giving him as he peeked from around the corner of the engine. 
"That was never in the cards, ma'am, all thanks to you. Your fast action, probably
saved her life." he told her gratefully, sputtering a little under the hose spray.

"Really? Oh, my gosh. That's - that's quite a surprise." the woman gushed.

"Oh? How so?" asked Roy.

The woman wrung her hands self consciously. "Well, you see, I've never taken
a first aid course in a formal setting my whole life. All I've ever learned is just 
from watching you firemen from time to time when you come to school here and 
give the kids all your paramedic demonstrations." she admitted. "I guess some of
that know-how must have rubbed off a little."

"I guess." said the out-of-sight Johnny happily, realizing that his previously boring day
teaching children fire-lore hadn't proved to be as useless as he had thought. "That's
cool."

"REAL cool, ma'am." added Chet. "Cap, I'll go put the real gear away to buy us time
until the fellas get all gussed up again so they can go back inside to salvage the fake 
stuff." Kelly offered.

"Okay, Chet. I'll put us available in ten." said Hank.

"Well, see you all next year." said the playground assistant. "I'm going to go wash
up, too. I'm sticky in places I'd rather not think about too much."

"Want some disinfectant?" Marco offered. "We have peroxide bottles in the squad."

"No thanks. I've decided I'm going to go scrub every pore I have with plenty of 
soap and hot water under a shower in the girl's locker room." she said, waving and 
walking away.

"See you, ma'am. And thanks.." Roy shouted after her.

"No, thank you." she fired back, disappearing through a side access door.

The firemen paused, recounting their lucky stars. 

Then Mike piped up.
"Better make it fifteen minutes until we're 10-8, Cap." said Stoker after a moment. 
"Gage and DeSoto are liable to get mobbed by the kids again every step of the 
way."

"Is that a fact?" said Cap with an amused expression.  He caught the principal's firm
but sympathetic nod of agreement. "All right, how about... you, Kelly and Lopez go on 
ahead. Go in and run a little interference for them in backup moral support. 
There's gonna be no stopping along the way to answer questions from anybody once
you're in there." Cap chuckled.

"Yeah, they've already been answered." said Gage, a little testily as he undressed
behind the shielding bulk of the engine, suddenly feeling the garbage ember seared hole 
on the back of his soiled uniform shirt as the wind cooled down the water drying there.

"Don't worry. It'll be a piece of cake." said Chet, rubbing his hands together confidently.

-----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

"Piece of cake he says...." grumbled Gage. "The only piece of cake I want is the one I
didn't get because we got caught in a crowd of nosy kids anyway. Roy, see? We got 
here too late for me to eat any." Johnny moaned at him.

DeSoto narrowed his eyes as he folded his elbows over his arms thoughtfully when he
saw the long vat uner the sweets sign full of nothing but ice and a few calcified dishes 
of Jello. "Tell you what. I'll buy you an ice cream cone instead." he offered.

Johnny sighed and planted his face into both of his palms, propped up by his elbows.
"No, thanks." he sighed miserably.

"Hiya fellas!" greeted a warm silky voice brightly. It was Dixie, carrying a late lunch
snack from the buffet line.

"Hi, Dixie.." returned Roy, smiling in surprise.
"Oh....hi..." said Johnny without any enthusiasm.

Dixie sat down in between the two paramedics who were still parked in front of 
their empty plates. "Geez. What's his problem?" she asked Roy, hooking a thumb at 
Johnny.

"Nothing." Gage shrugged.

"Uh huh.. And I got some swamp land for ya for sale in Florida." Dixie replied.

Roy sighed with a tolerant smile at their friend and head nurse.
"He saved a life today."

Dixie blinked. "Okay. So why isn't he happy about that?" she asked dryly
still gesturing a finger in Gage's direction. 

Johnny made a face.

Roy elaborated and met her stare of disbelief. "He missed dessert doing it."
said DeSoto casting a hand over to the pie-less, well picked over dessert area.

Dixie didn't move visibly, but the corner of her mouth crooked up more than
just a little. Then she cocked her head at Johnny. "What did you miss getting
yourself, Johnny?" she asked.

Gage still looked stung. "Coconut cream pie." he growled at her. And Gage
was a little clueless as to why Dixie would even be asking the question.

"With extra nonpareil sprinkles." added DeSoto, grinning. He was catching on far
faster than his partner.

"I'll be right back." McCall winked at the two of them. She rose from their little
round table and disappeared through a swinging door attached to the hospital
cafeteria's kitchen room. 

"Where's she going?" Johnny asked sharply.

Roy eyed him up, still smiling. Then he leaned forward to meet Gage eye to
eye in a close stare. He opened his mouth. "Doctors aren't the only miracle
workers around here."

"Huh?" Gage blinked, totally confused as he took a sip of coffee.  His eyes lit up in
complete surprise when Dixie returned with not one, but two heaping slices of pie
on a freshly frosted platter. Johnny immediately snatched up his dinner fork.

Dixie held up an admonishing finger. "Ah, ah, ah..You know the rules. One dollar,
pre-paid for the cashier, out where she can see it, in advance." McCall ordered.

Gage slammed down his money so fast that the dishes on their blue plastic table
jumped up and rattled. "Wow, thanks, Dix." he said, eating hungrily. "How'd you 
manage this? I'm.....almost speechless." Gage smiled crookedly.

Dixie chuckled. "Well... Do you know of my knack for getting apples out of that
touchy buttoned fruit machine in the nurse's lounge that has a tendency to always
deliver oranges down its dispensing chutes?"

"Yeah, Joe tells us that whole sordid tale every time he finds himself stuck
with another orange." Roy answered her.

Dixie angled her head, still smug and highly pleased with herself. "I've learned my little
hip nudging trick works far better on live chefs than it does on cold heartless machinery."

"I'll bet."
"It sure did." the two paramedics said. And they laughed uproariously. 

Johnny was licking the last of the coconut whipped cream off the back of his
nearly inhaled lunch fork when the tones went off on the portable squad radio
resting beside them.

##*Beep.*Beep.* Squad 51, what's your status?## asked L.A.

Roy replied while Johnny hastily threw out more dollar bills to pay for all three of their meals.
"Squad 51, L.A. We're available." DeSoto replied back.

##10-4. Stand by for a response. *Beep.*Beep.*Beep.* Squad 51, with Engine 51. Gas
leak at a warehouse. 1711 North Emmett Drive. 1711 North Emmett Drive. Cross street,
Nass. Time out : 16:34.##

Gage snatched the radio out of Roy's hands eagerly.
"10-4. Uh, we're 10-8 from Rampart Hospital. Our E.T.A. is.." Johnny looked at his
watch and did a few calculations as he traced their route out on the mental map of the county
he held in his head. "...six minutes. KMG-365." he acknowledged.

Just a second later, they all heard a like echo when Captain Stanley copied the call and
began rolling out with his pumper crew.

Roy and Johnny wiped their mouths with their napkins and rose from their seats quickly, 
grabbing up the wire wrapped EKG monitor and oyxgen apparatus they had wheeled in to lunch
with them. Johnny paused at the automatically opening door of the cafeteria leading back into
the main hospital proper. He deftly balanced a gear box in each hand. "Say, Dixie!" Gage
hollered out. "Did I tell you that I love ya?"

Dixie raised an eyebrow craftily over the rim of the teacup she was sipping in pure creature 
comfort as she nursed the steaming beverage in between laced fingers."Over the resupplying
counter? Frequently!" she yelled back at him, bubbling in mirth. She waved them on and 
away very firmly around her hysterical giggles. "I'll see you tomorrow, fellas. I'm going home 
in a few minutes.."

"Lucky you." Roy replied.

----------------------------------------------------------------------------- 

Station 51 began racing to the scene from two different directions.

-----------------------------------------------------------------------------

Photos: None.

**************************************************
From: "Pat or Cassidy or Jeff" <voyagerliveaction@yahoo.com> 
Date:   Thu Feb 8, 2007 1:22 pm 
Subject: That Loving Doctor Speak


Roy looked at Johnny askance once they were on Wilshire 
Boulevard and flowing through traffic that was scattering before 
their lights and sirens. "Shall we take a bet on that?"

"Take a bet on what?" Johnny asked, lifting his chin from his palm 
where it was propped up by the elbow on the open window 
frame of the squad.

"On whether or not we get to this place in exactly six minutes." Desoto 
said cheekily.

"No way. No bet, Roy. I'm not that stupid." Johnny said empathetically, 
making a face and chuckling.

"Why not? Don't you trust your innate skills of arrival estimations?"

"I trust myself just fine, pally. I'm not betting because I just know...that 
we aren't gonna get there on time." Gage explained as if it were the 
most natural answer in the universe.

Roy's face folded in sheer puzzlement as he rounded his next turn. "You 
know, Johnny, some days I think I've got you all figured out, and then along 
comes something just like this that's puts another irritating twist on things." 
DeSoto said with a little heat.

Gage let loose a tolerant exasperated sigh. "Roy, I'm not betting on
our E.T.A. because I don't trust my guessing. I'm not betting because
I know we're gonna get there ......earlier than six minutes." he finally
confessed to his flustered partner.

Roy blinked. Then his cherubic face opened into an incredulous smile. 
"Huh. Making so you're making yourself sound good for the radio logs." 
he figured out. "You know, I know that you know that the engineer's exams 
are coming up again..." he mentioned suspiciously.

Johnny's mouth flopped open in stunned surprise."I'm not going for a 
promotion! Geez, Roy. Quit reading mountains out of mole hills. For 
crying out loud, so I didn't take you up on a bet for once in my life, is that 
such a bad thing? It's not the end of the world just because I did something 
different today."

"You never know." DeSoto said mysteriously, turning his attention back
onto the road. "It very well could be, knowing you."

The Converta-Com tuned in at their knees suddenly gave voice with a triple 
beep. ##L.A.to Squad 51 and Engine 51, cancel. Citizens' report of gas leak 
is unfounded according to a local municipal facility who show and are 
reporting all sensors as nominal. Units responding, return. ##

Roy threw out an indignant hand at the radio. "See? What do you call that 
which just happened right there? I tell ya, things are changing already." DeSoto 
said worriedly superstitious.

It was Johnny's turn to look at Roy oddly. "Is Chet rubbing off on you or
something? You're getting all worked up over absolutely nothing, Roy."
Then he immediately cut himself off with a chiding remark. "Geesh, now
I'm starting to sound a lot like you." he said throwing up his hands. He took 
off his helmet and hung in on its hook behind his head with a bang.

"So parallels happen." Roy defended himself. "We do spend every working day,
awake or asleep, together. Maybe our copy catting cover is just another way to 
cope with the stresses of our job." he said, his voice levelling off as he, too,
took off his helmet as he flicked off their lights and sirens and slowed to
normal cruising speed.

Johnny did an immediate about face, thinking thoughtfully. "You know, I've
never thought about it in quite that way before. Wow, you may be right. Maybe
we're taking after each other because that means we get along so well."

"Don't bet the rent on it." mumbled DeSoto under his breath, not smiling. 

"Okay, okay. You win. I confess. I really wanted to take that bet with you on
our E.T.A. I just... well, I don't know WHAT I was doing exactly, I just..." Johnny's
voice trailed off. "...didn't wanna do it, that's all." he said softly.

Silent seconds spread like years inside the rescue squad. Then DeSoto opened
his mouth... "Awwww, Johnny. That was really nice of ya." said Roy, genuinely tickled 
to death. "Wow, finally, there's a guy who actually decides not to take his best friend 
to the cleaners when an opportunity presents itself. That's- that's..."

"Don't get all mushed up about it. I'm still feeling funny about this the way it is."
Gage told him sourly. "So shut up now while you still can." Johnny warned, holding
out both hands empathetically.

Roy buttoned lip immediately, grinning like a banshee as he gripped the steering 
wheel. "So things are all right in the world after all.." he snuck in.

Gage glared at him. "Just...*Shhhh*" he hissed, shifting back to the window in an
attempt to ignore his other "half." 

Roy moused down.

##*Beep.*Beep.*Beep.* Squad 51 with Engine 24. Possible heart attack...##

"Here we go..." said Johnny, grabbing out his notepad. "See? I didn't mess up
a single solitary thing." he said to his partner as the address droned on. Gage
flicked on their reds and siren with one of his green pens from where he sat.
"So, aren't you going to answer that?" he said, jerking a head at the radio.

Roy pursed his lips in irritation.
"I will... I will... Give me a little time to turn us around here first." he said defensively
while he eyeballed all of the suddenly startled-into-attention cars surrounding them. 
He grabbed the radio mic and brought it to his lips. Looking down for a moment,
he toggled it.  "L.A., Squad 51 is responding.. KMG 36--" 

"*Gasp...*"  came an involuntary noise.

Roy heard the sudden intake of horrified breath from Johnny and got an instant chill
the second he looked up again. Color drained out of Roy's face at the same 
terrifying sight and he froze then, finding himself unable to move his one free 
hand that was still holding onto the wheel. He saw a flash of an image in his head.

A white, middle sized sedan was barrelling towards them... its brakes 
and steering control inexplicably gone out, swerving into their lane.

Roy registered a brief glimpse of terrified eyes and what he thought was
the open, red gaping mouth of the other driver and the flash of silver finger
rings and earrings, when the impact came at forty miles an hour.

**CrrraaAAASSSHHHHhhhhhh!**

Squad 51's front end crumpled sickeningly, throwing Roy and Johnny into the 
dashboard snugging along the windshield, despite the fact that they were both 
belted in. 

Blackness descended when both cars spun in their mutual dance of destruction 
and eventually came to a halt along the side of the road under some trees.

--------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
It was two minutes later when the first police squad car pulled up after receiving 
a citizen's payphone call about an automobile accident. 

Vince Howard and his lady partner of two years pulled up rapidly one hundred
feet ahead of the crash to allow a good safety margin. As he got out, Vince 
had trouble registering the fact that one of the vehicles was somehow very 
familiar, big, and red.

He shook himself back to the present when his partner gripped his arm near
the mangled rescue squad after she had spoken with a male bystander who 
had stopped to help its passengers, for details.

"Looks like they were on a response when they hit that car. I'll call it in." she 
said. Then she leaned into the folded up, steaming, windshield shattered 
squad once more to speak with the male passer by who was with a forehead 
bloody, weakily moaning Roy. "Keep holding that paramedic's head still, and 
keep an eye out for any sign of fire. If you see smoke starting up, let me 
know." she told the bystander. Then she turned back to Vince, gripping her 
shoulder radio mic. "I put him on the oxygen I grabbed from our trunk. He's 
saying that he can't catch his breath. The other one's not awake but he's 
breathing normally. Can you see to the other car?"

"I can do that.." said Vince as his partner called for additional help over their
frequency. Shaking away numbness, he ran for the other car that had flipped
over and impacted a guard rail. Grimacing, Howard saw that there wasn't 
much left of it. ::I hate Volvos...they fall apart like egg shells every time.:: he 
thought. ::Okay..Just how many others are we going to have here?:: 

A hail from the violated rescue squad's fire department radio began calling 
out their emergency to the closest engine crew seconds later. ::Engine 51?:: 
thought the patrolman. ::I'm glad it's them.:: he said as he began crawling
on gloves and shoes around the wreckage, trying to see inside the ruined
white car. ::Looks like one more. Someone in a red checkered shirt.:: He
reached inside, trying to feel for signs of life, but he couldn't reach far
enough. ::D*mn, there's too much debris in the way.:: Howard realized.
He rose and got to his feet. And his radio. "Dispatch, this is Sierra Bravo 
Five. We've a total of three victims at this MVA, one inaccessible." he 
reported, hearing his own voice in stereo as it echoed between shoulder
radioes. Then he got clear of the car and started directing traffic. "Please
notify Fire Department Headquarters that this accident involves one 
of their own vehicles. Their B.C. needs to be informed. Also send two 
additional squad cars for traffic control." Vince began to shiver unpleasantly
when he heard something else over his shoulder.

##Squad 51, this is L.A. Do you copy? Your previous outgoing transmission
was interrup---## Vince heard Squad 51's radio abruptly cut off as his partner 
tore away the wires leading to its power source to end any sparking risk.

---------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
Birdsong reigned after multiple squad cars first off blocked then redirected
curious onlookers away from the crash. Silence filled the air briefly...

Engine 51 approached from the east, going full out. Hank Stanley was
inwardly worked up to a fever pitch when he learned the news that their 
collision call was involving his own rescue squad. He immediately heard
L.A. send out another one. ::Squad 24? Sh*t, they're still at least seven 
minutes out.:: he worried. "Stoker, park it right here. Let us out.
Then run the Ward down the block with two inch and a half's. I'm smelling 
gas. Kelly, charge his lines and then get on an immediate washdown. 
Marco, check out Roy and Johnny. They can't be too bad, the people 
around them aren't hurrying too much. I'll grab the car victim and see what 
we've got. Mike as soon as you're free again, connect with Rampart and 
let them know what we have as soon as we learn it. Salvage what gear you 
can from the squad. Pop open all the compartment doors with tools 
to get at it if you have to. We're gonna need everything they've got in there. 
Set out what you save along the side of the road."
 
Hank heard his men accept their assignments with alacrity. Stanley
got on his HT to L.A. "L.A. Engine 51, we're on scene. Respond an additional 
alarm. We've fuel spilling. Also roll out urban rescue. One of our two vehicles 
is heavily damaged with the driver entrapped." he added when he saw Vince's
hand signal telling him of that fact.

As the fire engine's cab rolled to a halt, everybody got out and started running.
"Get into scba as soon as things are good and wet!" he told them.

Cap ran to the radiator steaming white car with a pry bar. He shouted to Howard 
as he set his air bottle close by onto the ground. "Vince, move yourself and your 
partner away a hundred feet! There's a gas smell blowing downwind of you coming 
from this car."

Vince replied. "There is?! Ok, must have just started." he gripped his microphone.
"Sally. Get yourself and that civilian well clear. We're done." Then he let it go.
"Hank, this one's bad. I can't even make out the driver clearly or get anywhere
inside."

"We'll handle it. Just keep yourselves safe." he ordered. "Thanks for what you've
done."

"No problem." Howard said, walking away to push traffic back even further.

Stoker finished laying hose. He got on the pumper panel and quickly connected
up the flow they would need at top volume. 

Cap crouched by the most intact passenger door and started work on it with
his crow bar. His handy talkie crackled. ##HT 51, this is Kelly. A g*d d*mn*d BMW
is parked in front of our f*ck*ng hydrant. Permission to smash through windows?##

"Do it! We'll have the police write their citation later!" Cap grunted back at him
over the airwaves. Soon, he got the upside down car door open using sheer muscle.
He nearly fell when it finally gave way. Taking off his helmet to see better, Hank slid
into the seat to peer down at the body he could see crumpled along the floor 
boards, lying face up. His heart just about stopped in his chest when he easily 
recognized the woman. "Oh, my word.." he gasped. Quickly, peeling off his gloves,  
he dug several fingers into the inner groove of her neck. A weak coratid met him, and 
faint sounds of wet gurgling. As he squirmed lower down, he radioed out. "HT 51, this 
is Engine 51. I need airway help and I need it now." 

##I'm coming with the O2 apparatus.## reported Stoker.

Hank quickly began a careful jaw thrust maneuver as he felt Chet start to lay down 
a full fanning spray first over and then down and out in circles around him. "Kelly, 
it's Dixie!" he shouted as he opened up her mouth with a couple of thumbs. He 
ignored the spray of blood that suddenly misted up violently towards his face.

"What?!" Chet startled. "Ohmyg-- How's she d--"

Hank spoke quietly, firmly.
"She's alive, but in trouble. Just keep washing everything and everybody down, 
fast as you can." he said, turning his head, trying to see the extent of her injuries.

"But..."

"I've got her under control so far and Stoker's coming to help me. Your job is
to concentrate on what you're doing. When the other company gets here, they'll 
pick up our other charged hose and they'll soon be joining you." Stanley said, 
shifting his fingers' position slightly so McCall's fitful breaths came easier. "Keep 
at it!" he ordered as her desperate gasping began to slow satisfactorily.

"Yes, sir.." Chet said, worried and serious. He redoubled his efforts.

-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
Back at the squad, Marco pulled DeSoto's oxygen mask away from
his mouth and shut off the tiny bottle the policewoman had laid at Roy's 
feet when a fresh wave of gasoline stung his nose. He nodded approval
mentally when he saw that the radio had already been disconnected.
He felt Johnny's wrist, even as he laid a hand on Roy. "Hey.. can you guys
hear me? Roy?...Johnny?"

Gage began stirring and moving his legs. "Ohhh..." he said, opening
his eyes.

"Easy. You've both been in a wreck. Don't try to move yet." Lopez cautioned
as he pulled out his radio. He stepped back from the squad, until he no longer
smelled fuel, before he transmitted. "HT 51 to Engine 51. They're conscious. I've
got a gas leak over here, too. Once I check them over better, I'll wash this
down.."

Marco frowned when Cap's reply didn't come, only Stoker's. ##He copies.##
said the engineer. There was the hiss of active suctioning behind his voice.
## I'll let them know. Cap wants all O2 kept off until we get a chance to 
snip both batteries under the hoods.##

"Understood."

All four of Station 51's firemen looked up when the sounds of approaching 
sirens began to grow in the west. There were two sets of them, an engine's 
and the hastily summoned second rescue squad's.The hurrying squad's voice 
almost brought tears to Marco's eyes when he began to hear its sweet familarity.
::Come on, come on. Rush your butts!:: he thought at them.

Marco began sweeping down Roy and Johnny's arms and legs, looking for free 
flowing blood past the cuts on their faces as he talked with them to learn how
out of it they really were. ::Neither are speaking yet.:: he realized. Lopez found
and wrapped an oozing deep gash on Roy's right calf with Coban elastic from
the engine's first aid kit to stop its heavy bleeding.

##Engine 99 and Squad 24 to Engine 51. We're one minute out. Urban rescue
reports their arrival in three minutes.## said 99's captain.

Hank Stanley nodded at Stoker to acknowledge them. When he was finished, 
Cap spoke again. "Get her shirt off. My foot near her chest's getting wet with 
something. She may be injured there."

"Is she responsive at all?"

"No." said Cap.

Stoker reached into the airways box he had brought and inserted an oral
airway Dixie's size around Cap's supporting hands. "Ok, this is in. She has no
gag. Let me check." he said, grabbing out a pair of shears. He began cutting 
and feeling quickly. He stopped when he felt a return of moist air misting his 
hand from a solitary ragged hole punched into her left side. "It's a pneumothorax. 
There's only one. Sealing it off." he said, laying a firm palm over it and pressing 
down.

Cap let go of Dixie's head without moving it once he saw the airway was 
doing its job ok. Then he, too, began grabbing for fast supplies. He tore off 
the foil wrap on a petroleum pad. "Here. Use this instead. It'll work better."
said Stanley, passing it over. 

Mike did and soon was freed up to go run for the biophone. 

Stanley looked up at him as his engineer left the car.
"Pulse is 120, respirations...you've already counted. I'm detecting no pulses 
at her wrists or above the elbows." Hank hollered. "Looks like that initial 
suctioning was all she needed."

"For now. Let me know what else she's got going on, Cap, as soon as you 
can. I'll be on the curb." Mike told him.

"I will. I'm getting the rest of these off." he said, beginning on her 
jeans. "Leave a shock sheet next to me."

"It's already there. And yes, I got all the medical gear, oxygen tanks and air 
bottles out of, or off of, the squad. I left just the heavy equipment. Their two
stokes and all the backboards I tossed over onto the lawn."

"Okay, pal. Go update Rampart and Squad 24 with the statuses on our victims."

Stoker hefted up his scba gear and put it on. He patted Chet on the shoulder
for doing the same thing even though he was encumbered with a hose, as
he jogged by. "She's still breathing on her own." he shouted.

"Ok. Good to hear." said Chet and some of his creases on his forehead eased
out of active worry. "Thanks."

A few minutes later, Chet overheard a terrifying transmission from his
crewmate. "Rampart, we have two Code I and a female victim of a head on 
frontal automobile accident. We've no paramedics at the scene except our 
engine crew. We need a doctor a.s.a.p. for an entrapped critical, long term."

There was a pause, until Chet heard the statement that thoroughly chilled his 
blood.

"...Rampart, the second and third victims ARE our paramedic crew." Stoker
swallowed.


------------------------------------------------------------------------------
Marco looked up at a muffled poof just as Squad 24 and 99's Crown rolled up.
"Fire! Hey Cap! Fellas! We've got fire in the squad's engine block!" he yelled,
shooting out of 51's crumpled cab to snatch up the hose Stoker had left out
and ready for him. He could see the beginnings of flames licking up tentatively 
around the hood. Their heat was already melting and curling up the windshield 
wipers as he began sloshing a sharp spray of water up and down the squad's
front end.

Cap heard him and immediately dashed over, leaving Dixie warmly covered. He
waved at a firefighter climbing off 99's Tillerman's spot to go attend her.

He forced open Gage's side door with the pry bar and cast it aside. "Johnny, hey.
Listen to me. Is your back or neck hurting you?" Hank shouted, holding both hands
on either side of the Native American paramedic's face to get his attention. "You're
going to have to be moved fast because we're on fire."

"Huh?? Whaa..?" Johnny said groggily. "Us? Didn't...didn't know we were in a fire.."

"No, the squad. You crashed. It's starting to burn, John. We're getting you out."

"A crash?!" Gage startled. " Uh,.. *ow* I'm...I'm not hurting anywhere important.."
he moaned. "Go ahead and pick me---"

Cap wasted no time laying one of Johnny's arms over his shoulders in order
to get him onto his feet. They began to get out of the squad. "Brice!" Stanley 
yelled. "Get DeSoto out! We're showing smoke! Kelly, protect the white car
with everything you've got but move back from us!"

Craig Brice, just pulling on his work gloves, hastened to comply.

A couple of 99's men got on Marco's hose to help him, and two others,
but 51's hood wouldn't open at their jimmying. "Here.." said Lopez, passing off
his nozzle stream to a pair of them. "I've got our jaws over there. I can pop it 
open in two seconds. She's already running hot."

Paramedic Firefighter Craig Brice slid in behind Roy, sliding a supporting 
arm over his chest to hold him still. "DeSoto. Can you hear me?"

"Uh..." Roy groaned, flopping his head back limply against the other paramedic. 
It was clear he didn't recognize Craig in the slightest.

Brice pinched him hard on the flesh underneath his upper arm.

"Oww!"

"I know that hurt. Answer me! Did you hurt yourself past this one wrapped
leg I'm seeing?"

Roy startled as awareness returned, along with a complete memory.. 
"The other car. Somebody's hurt! Johnny and I hit-- I've got to get over 
there.." he gasped.

Brice didn't mince words. "Fine. You're ready to leave. Come with me now
before we fry." he said, helping Roy get out of the squad as carefully and quickly
as he could. DeSoto moved, slinging an arm over Craig's shoulder. He began
limping immediately and soon, another firefighter ran over to help the two of them
make their escape. 

They got away painfully slow. Only Cap and Johnny were slower.

BoooOOOOMmmmm!

Squad 51 annihilated herself in an exploding fireball as a burning fuel line
finally reached the gasoline tank.

The force of the explosion caught the backs of Hank and Johnny and they
were cast to the ground. 

"Cap, are you guys all right?!" Marco shouted, fighting back the spreading
fire fiercely while the other pumper got ready to join him.

"Yeah, I'm ok.. I think Gage is, too." he reassured Lopez.
Cap, protected by his helmet, rolled to his feet, but Johnny was lying face 
down and turning purple. He was not moving even though he was still awake.

Cap rolled him over in a spine safe line. "Easy, pal.. Got the wind knocked out 
of ya? It's all right. Just try to relax and it'll pass in a minute or so." he said, 
looking up to make sure Brice and DeSoto hadn't come to any more harm. 

They were unscathed. Cap could see that Brice had already transferred 
DeSoto off to another man while he headed for the white car, loaded with 
his gear and some of Squad 51's.

Hank looked down and starting smiling encouragingly as Johnny struggled 
to breathe again. Hank took the hands that were lying on top of Gage's stomach 
into his own. "Can you do it yet? Are the spasms easing up?" he said, beginning
to massage the constricted muscles around Johnny's waist.

Gage just squirmed on the ground and kept choking silently.

Stanley looked up. "Somebody get an ambu over here on the fly. My man 
needs some help on one until he recovers from a kick to the diaphragm."
he said, tipping Johnny's head back to get him more comfortable. "Easy.
Easy.. We'll do it for you. Quit fighting for a sec until we get you going on
o2. Here it comes. Johnny, did you hear me?" he said as Chet and Brice's
paramedic partner came rushing in to assist.

It took all three of them to hold the mask over Johnny's darkening face
as he struggled in a panic until Cap held down his arms.

"Was he obstructed?" the paramedic asked.

"No.. no. Just winded." Hank grinned. "He's just scared. He should 
settle down once his lungs get some air. He's got other problems from
the crash but nothing at all here breathing wise except this."

Finally, they got the bag working and Johnny's chest rose. Immediately,
Gage calmed and went limp as dizziness from the squeeze valve's shot of 
pure O2 began coursing through him. He closed his eyes in relief and just
let it happen as several more came and went.

Hank continued to massage the cramps rippling Gage's stomach into a tight
ball until...Johnny began breathing again in deep, hungry gasps. "There.." 
Cap said, letting him go.  "See? It's over. Just like I told you it would." he said 
watching the others switch out the bag for a positive pressure valve on 
demand only. "Now stay down and let Marve here check you out. Roy's fine,
too. He's doing a little better than you, in fact. He's just asked about getting 
over to the other car. And don't worry about her. She's still alive."

Johnny nodded weakily on the ground and tried to get his eyes to focus on
the faces ringing round him. "Who's...who's fault w--?" he broke off from
shortness of breath.

"Nobody's.." said Cap empathetically. "There are droplets of brake fluid all
over the street. It starts in a line trailing twenty feet away from the impact point.
That car had no brakes to stand on when it ran that red light."

"What's her ...what's her condition?" Gage said, pushing the oxygen mask
away briefly. He could feel himself growing stronger already.

Only now did Cap's light expression begin to falter. Kelly's completely caved in
and that tipped Johnny off. "Who is she? Do we know her?" Gage asked,
getting angry even as he caught the same question in Roy's eyes where he sat
on the curb nearby next to a firefighter who was watching him. 

DeSoto was fiddling absently with the cannula resting over his ears while his 
cut forehead was getting wrapped up in dressings.

Hank hung his head. "Yes..uh..yeah, we do, pal." he said honestly. "I'm afraid it's
...it's Miss McCall from the hospital."

Johnny lay stunned, struck speechless even as Roy was. Only there was a difference.
DeSoto was mumbling a single sentence over and over again. "I saw her, Johnny.
I saw her.. And I couldn't get out of the way..." he sobbed.  Beginning to shiver,
Roy let the fireman who was monitoring him lay him down before he passed out in
shock. Blankets were tossed open, spread and used amply, but Johnny and Roy
no longer were aware of them even though their eyes continued to blink and their
sources of oxygen continued to flow.

A minute later, Johnny struggled to his feet.

Hank stopped Chet from restraining him. "Let him go. Let him go, pal. We
can't force anything on him that he doesn't want." He said, pointing to 24's
medic, who wasn't doing anything to stop Johnny's movements either. Then 
Stanley took the still unsteady Gage softly aside under his arm as he 
re-covered his shoulders with the fallen blanket. "What do you want to do until 
the ambulance gets here? You can do anything you want except go over there."

"The engine, Cap. I want to sit in the engine. Everybody's looking at me."
Johnny said quietly, still thinking about Dixie. 

"Okay. That's all right by us." Stanley accomodated. "We'll get you back on
some O2 while you're sitting up in one of the seats." he said, making eye contact
with the other paramedic, who was nodding his head in agreement. "And then 
both of you are going to submit to a complete examination, some vitals signs 
and maybe an EKG reading or two, okay, pal?"

"Is Roy coming with me?" Johnny asked, his eyes staring blearily.

"No, I think he's decided to stay right where he is for the moment." said Cap, 
seeing that Roy's eyes were closed where he lay on the grass in a vain attempt 
to forget the whole experience. "So getting going if you're going. I'll help you
over there and then I'll have Chet here stay behind to keep an eye on you while 
you're getting checked out and treated."

"Like I have any choice.." said Johnny meekly. "The chief's here." he said, pointing
at the Battalion car that was just pulling up.  "And I know HE'LL just back you up on 
anything you decide about me to the max."

Hank smiled in amusement. "Remember, those were your words.."

-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
Stanley hurried on by DeSoto, where he lay on a cot getting loaded up
by ambulance attendants and Brice's partner. He knelt by Craig, who
was working feverishly over Dixie's still form. "How is she?"

"She'll do a lot better once we get her out of here. We have a lot
of cutting to do before we free up her legs." said Brice.

"I'm still working on that. Urban rescue is still a half minute away. Don't
worry about catching fire. 99's laid down foam. Anything else 
I can do for you? Your partner's about ready to take off with my two men
for the hospital."

Craig immediately began a flow of oxygen through a non rebreather mask 
at the news of their passed fire danger. He deftly placed it over Dixie's face.
"Yeah, know how to string up intravenous lines?" Brice asked him.

"I learned from the best.." he said about Roy and Johnny. "Gimme."
he said, reaching for the boxed catheter set up and saline bag Craig
had set out next to Dixie's head. "Stoker's already told Rampart the
prelim report. All they need now..."

"... are the nitty gritty details." Brice finished for him. "Which they've
just received about Miss McCall." he told Cap. Then his face became
haunted. "They aren't too happy about who it is.." 

"You told them?" Hank gaped.

"Yes, I did. It was the fastest way to get a hold of Dixie's medical chart,
which her surgeon is doubtlessly going to need to see once we've
successfully extricated her." Craig said simply.

"Fair enough. Who's flying out here to attend vigil?" Hank asked.

"Dr. Brackett."

Stanley sighed in relief. If Dixie had any chance of surviving her lung
trouble, Kel was the one to pull her through it. "Ok, I'll send a man out to 
go meet him. Where's he landing?"

"I arranged for that used car lot a hundred feet to the north, Captain. See 
that orange, round Spirit of 76 rotating sign over there?" Brice asked
without looking away from the ET tube he was attempting to thread down 
Dixie's windpipe. It wasn't going well.

"Got it. Need anything else?" said Cap distractedly. He didn't even notice
when Craig gave up on establishing an advanced airway.

"Yes.. a full CPR standby crew. We stand a good chance of needing them
if she's not out of here in an hour." Brice said, switching McCall back to an
oropharyngeal and an active demand valve with which to boost her
suddenly very weak breathing attempts."I'll need one of them in here right 
now to take over ventilating her. Her left lung's starting to collapse."

Hank frowned, casting his eyes to the active EKG monitor that was fluctuating
an erratic heartbeat of 140. "She's fading that fast?"

"Not if I can help it." said Brice empathetically as he tore away the occlusive
dressing Cap and Stoker had taped into place.

-----------------------------------------------------------------------------
"I want options and I want them now, gentlemen." said Kel, slamming his hand 
down on his desk inside his doctor's office. "I fly out in five minutes."

Joe Early and Mike Morton refused to be intimidated. They wanted to get some 
results in favor of Dixie's continued well being almost as badly as Dr. Brackett did. 

Joe picked up the phone and made a fast phone call.

-----------------------------------------------------------------------------

Dr. Alonzo "Gonzo" Gates kissed his current girlfriend and her kids 
goodbye as he stumbled, pajamas and all, into his clothing at the 
foot of the stairs. 

The statuesque model spoke up as she opened the front door. 
"Must you go in this late?"

"Honey.. Dixie McCall's a good friend of mine and any favor Kel
Brackett says I might be able to swing for her is almost too little 
to ask. I owe that man my very career." Gonzo said empathetically.

"Ok, go. Then hurry back." she said, kissing him passionately.
"Shall I let Trapper know where you're going?"

"He already knows. He's the second doctor Kel's team is calling in."
said Gates. He got into his car and lifted up the car phone
wired there. "Operator, please connect me up to Doctor
Trapper John McIntyre of Mercy General, right away. This is a 
matter of life and death."

Seconds later, Gonzo Gates was speeding up the freeway towards
Rampart Hospital and the surgical wards there.

It wasn't ten minutes later when Joe Early and Mike Morton got
their counterparts from across town fully updated on Dixie's
deteriorating condition. "Fellas, glad you came. Kel's already at
the crash scene." said Dr. Early. "Here's the absolute latest medical
data I have and this is coming directly from them. Would you mind 
stepping into the Base Station? You can talk to Kel directly in there 
via radio while you're reading all our notes."

"Right this way, gentlemen." said Mike Morton, indicating the way
to walk with a cast out hand. "The fire department says she's almost 
free of the wreckage."

"How's she pinned in, doctor?" asked Trapper John, M.D. as he rubbed
his bald pate and salt and pepper beard thoughtfully.

"By both legs, below the knees."

"Are there any other complications going on right now?" asked Gonzo 
Gates, the curly haired, brown eyed young doctor.

"Yes." replied Joe. "A very big one. She's developing a severe tension
pneumothorax on the left side."

"Oh, that's not good." said the mild mannered soft spoken doctor who could
have been Joe Early's twin in temperment. John leaned into the live EKG 
monitor displaying her circulatory vital signs. "Is she intubated?"

"Nope. They couldn't establish one." said Morton. "Brice says he's 
seeing too much swelling from soft tissue neck bruising to get one in."

"Is she ventilating ok otherwise?"

"Yeah, they're using an OPA and a demand valve. But she's still sitting
at 86% PaO2 according to pulse oximetry even with a clearly patent airway."

Trapper frowned. "That's going to cause problems. Positive pressure's not
the answer in the long run, it'll only worsen her perfusion over time due
to inadvertant barotrauma or gastric distension."

"I'll tell Kel to switch it out for a bag valve mask." said Morton, thumbing down 
the base station's talk button. "Rampart to Squad 24. Do you read me?"

------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

The noise of the working sawzalls and K-12s were deafening as Marco,
Stoker and Cap set to work splitting what was left of the car open 
above Dr. Brackett and Brice to get to the seat struts that were
still trapping the nurse to the floor.

"Squad 24, go ahead." replied Craig swiftly, plugging his uncovered
ear.

##Our consultants recommend switching out to a gentler delivery on ambu.##
suggested Morton.

Kel was overjoyed to hear his colleagues were at the hospital and beginning 
to prepare for Dixie's surgery. "I concur wholeheartedly, Brice." he said. "I was 
just about to have you change her over to something different. Get it done
while I get this ready." he said, drawing out a long needle for Dixie's emergency
pleural decompression. "What's her latest pressure?"

"She's....80 systolic with both I.V.s wide open." Brice rechecked by palpation.

"Are you absolutely sure she's got a tension pneumothorax working?" Kel
asked again as he swabbed down her second intercostal space anteriorly
on the same side as the torn hole they had found over her ribs.

"Most definitely. Yes, she does. She's quit all attempts at breathing on her own.
She hyperresonant to percussion, and now there's this unilateral absence
of breath sounds where there used to be distinctly audible rales on the right."
said Craig. "And only now have I seen these signs of tracheal deviation."

"All right. That's the classic triad. Call someone in here to hold her still
for us. I'm going in." ordered Dr. Brackett.

Craig got on his radio and Marco Lopez was the first one to answer him.
He was soon there, protecting Dixie from adverse movement, while Kel
advanced the thoracic needle down to its open hub. A sharp hiss of escaping
air gushed out and then lessened bit by bit as the increased pressure inside 
Dixie's chest released out the needle. Kel kept it in for a few seconds more 
before he withdrew it. 

Then he nodded at Craig to start ventilating her again.
"See if you can splint her internally with the demand valve. I want to see if 
her lungs have reinflated ok." Brackett said. Brice hastened to take over for 
the fireman working the bag at her head while the doctor listened carefully
at several places over Dixie's skin with his stethoscope. 
He looked up after a few delivered breaths and finally, he smiled. "Well, 
that did it.  And I see absolutely no evidence here that she's flailed."

Brice nodded his head. "I didn't see any paradoxical motion either."

"Most likely her tension pneumo was brought on by a blunt rupture of a lung
surface rather than by any lacerations inside from broken ribs." Kel looked
relieved and actively happy for Brice's benefit. "Good call on that. There was every 
chance in H*ll that Dixie could have needed that chest tube. Only an x-ray or a 
doctor could have decided which was her best course of treatment. Glad you 
dragged me out here today. "

"We had to, doc. She's special." said Marco sheepishly.

"That she is. To me and just about everybody else I hear." he grinned. "Brice,  
run in more Normal Saline to counteract any internal chest bleeding I might have
set off. Administer another 250 cc fluid bolus and titrate her two I.V.s 
accordingly until we get her to level off at a rock solid hemodynamic status level.
I don't think she needs a rapid sequence intubation. She's tolerating the oral
adjunct all by itself very well."

Brice called out a finding as he flipped a switch to get a new paper tracing 
of Dixie's slowing and now normalizing heart rhythm. "She's back in NSR, 
doctor. I'm seeing a regular rate of 90."

"Great news. I really didn't want to tangle with adenosine just to handle
her wide width PSVT while we're still stuck in here. The ceiling's too low
for cardiac compressions."

"Is she headed for surgery?" Marco asked, trading out the positive 
pressure for the bag again when Brackett waved at him.

"Yes. Her left lung's only partially back to snuff." he said sealing off Dixie's
chest wound completely with a firmly taped moist dressing. "That chest
tube's gonna go in to finish evacuating out the remnants of this pneumothorax. 
I can't use her existing wound because of the danger of contamination  
in the field. I have two very good surgeons standing by at the hospital 
right now to handle its placement into a second site."

"Do I know them?" Brice asked.

"Probably not. But they're both very easy to get to know. I know you'll like
them. I've been thinking about trying to get them to transfer into our territory
for months now. They do very good work." Kel said of the emergency department.
"They go by the names of Alonzo "Gonzo" Gates and Trapper John McIntyre."

"I'll remember them." said Brice thoughtfully. Right then, there were shouts of
triumph. Dixie had been sawed completely free and soon all the rescue 
machinery fell into blissful silence.

"Never doubted that for a second." Kel quipped. Letting go of his doctor mode,
Brackett took a few moments to caress Dixie's hair tenderly and he leaned down
to whisper encouragement into her ear. "You're ok now, love. Wake up just as 
soon as you can, all right? There's nothing else to be afraid of. We're all here 
together with you, and I'd be lying if I didn't say this : We're missing out on not
seeing both your beautiful blue, Irish eyes smiling up at us. Roy and Johnny 
are a-o-kay, too, and waiting for you to show up at the hospital."

Dixie offered up her first sigh of recovery through her deep unconsciousness, in 
response to his familiar touch, as she began to fight the bag.

"That a girl. Keep it up." grinned Brackett tearfully. Then he looked up fearlessly.
"Ok, guys. Let's get the show on the road. We'll take her out by K.E.D., rapid
extrication. Then let's stretcher her out to the chopper."

-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
Marco Lopez drove Squad 24 the fastest three miles of his life behind Roy
and Johnny's ambulance in order to get to Rampart. He burned just as bad
as the others to be there in the waiting room with the rest of the crew for
word of Dixie's final outcome following emergency surgery.

Kel Brackett wasn't one of them, to pace the floor with fretting and superficial
chatter. He had bullnosed right into the operating room, to oversee every
step of the procedure.

Hank Stanley pushed away the coffee he hadn't touched. "I sure hope she's
gonna be all right. Geez.." he said. "She was still breathing when I left her
with that firefighter." he said, punching the wall absently in worry with a fist. 
"Just what the h*ll happened?"  he asked, pushing up the sleeves on his
turnout jacket.

Johnny Gage looked up from the ice bag he was applying to his head.
"Needle decompression, from what Brice told me. Now receiving that kind
of radical treatment's bound to tire her out a little. She'll be fine. Her x-rays all
came back negative across the board. No fractures, no spinal separations,
only cuts, bruises..." he began, retying his hospital robe on more tightly
around himself.

"Along with that huge hole we found in her chest." Hank countered.

Roy piped up from the wheelchair he was sitting in so he wouldn't have to
walk on his recently stitched up leg. He, too, was wearing a hospital gown,
a condition of his required overnight stay as authorized by the battalion chief. 
"She was poked by something sharp. Her ribs weren't broken, Cap. She should 
recover fairly quickly. There was no sign of internal injuries cropping up in the 
pre-op room."

"That remains to be seen post operatively." said Trapper John ominously.
"One can never tell at this stage of the game. Gonzo and I were just in
there and she was still intubated and being respiratory supported."

Gonzo slapped Trapper's arm to shush him. "Trap, don't go scaring them
unnecessarily. Guys, her pressure's up and remains good. Don't listen to
an old geezer like him." he said jerking a thumb at his colleague. "Sometimes,
he doesn't even know what he's talking about."

"Hey," protested Joe Early. "Watch whom you're calling old." Early glared in
a tease. "He's younger than I am."

The whole room of firefighters burst out laughing.

"Ah, maybe I'm not old on the calendar by your books. But to me, I'm sore
all over. Observing Dixie's two hour exploratory procedure's got me creaking 
in every joint." Trapper said, reaching under his white doctor's coat to stretch 
out one of them.

Gonzo Gates jumped to his feet. "I can fix that. After all, Nurse Brancusi says
massage therapy's my current specialty."

"Oh, ho!" Trapper celebrated. " I knew you two love birds were hitting it off
on the sly. Nurse Ernestine Schoop said as much."

"We are not." Gates protested.

"You are, too." said Trapper, right back. "How else would anyone who's not a patient
of yours know about your extraordinary skills as a hands on PT?"

Gonzo glared at him. "Ok, shut up right now. And lie down so I can work your kinks out." 
he said, pointing to Brackett's office desk. 

"Anything you say, 'doctor.' " teased Trap of Gonzo's liaison with a nurse who was
far older than he was, as he peeled off his surgeon's scrubs top to lay down
on his stomach. "Far be it from me to tell you how to play doctor."

Gates parked his butt on the side of the desk and he made sure his first loosening 
exercises hurt a bit for good measure. "Doesn't that feel nice? We'll have you fixed 
up in a jiffy. Now about spreading my love life all over the county..." he warned, 
leaning low to one of Trapper's upturned ears. 

"Love life? Did I mention anything about your long history of sordid romances here?"
McIntyre puzzled.

"You did." said everyone in the room.

"Oh, ok, so I did. Well, I stand.. er.. lay before you.. most humbly corrected." he apologized
to his co-colleague as Gonzo continued to lay in hard with his massage techniques.

Gonzo switched his hands for a pointy, sharply pressed elbow, working deftly. Right 
along the spine. "Say you're sorry."

"Sorry for what?" McIntyre quipped. He immediately gulped it down when Gonzo
laid most of his weight down onto the elbow. "Owww..Ahhh! Ok. ok... I'm sorry. I'm 
sorry..." he chuckled. "Are you satisfied?"

Gonzo squinted both eyes at him for long seconds as he stepped back away
from Trapper. "Has your back stopped hurting you yet?" he finally asked.

Trapper continued to laugh loudly in embarrassment as he rolled over. Then
he stopped laughing, turning his attention inward. "Wow, yeah. Pain's gone."

"There you go. Put your shirt back on. Congratulations. I cured you." said Gonzo
with a diffident, still hurt stare.

"You sure did." said Trapper instantly, still hoping to soothe his friend.

"Too bad I can't cure you of a serious case of gossiping lip." Gates whispered
under his breath as he sipped some Folders.

"Wha? Huh?" said Trapper, still fighting to get his head through his scrubs uniform's
neck opening. "Did you say something to me, Gonz?"

"Nothing. Go sit and enjoy your coffee like the rest of us are doing. We
should be hearing word about Dixie's recovery any moment now. It's nine o'clock
p.m." Gonzo told him, looking carefully at his watch.

"Already?" asked Johnny in surprise. "Boy, was that a fast four hours."

"It helps that you were sleeping for most of it." said DeSoto, not looking up
from his magazine. He scratched an itch under his head bandage.

"Look who's talking Mr. Nap Man. Who needed smelling salts to come around
in the ER this afternoon?" Johnny snapped at him.

"Gentlemen,..the phone's ringing.." said Chet, pointing to the red one on
the wall. He stood up and answered it briefly before he cupped the receiver
into a palm. For some reason, he was keeping a very straight face. Then
he came out with it. "Sounds like it's Dixie, calling from her room already?"

Every male in the room fell over themselves and each other trying to reach
the phone. In the end, it was Joe Early, who held the phone receiver. "How
are you doing, hon? Back from recovery so soon? Uh..huh. Uh..huh. If those
pain meds aren't working for you well enough, I've got five doctors in mind
who'll order you more.. Ok.. uh..See you soon. Bye bye."

Early hung up the phone with a bang. "She wants to see us. Uh, that's in between
all the puke pans. The anesthesia's doing a number on her.."

"She wants us to visit her right now?" asked Gage eagerly, hardly believing his
ears.

"Yep." said Joe.

Everyone stampeded, rushed or hand wheeled their wheelchairs
out the door and to the elevators in seconds.

Kel Brackett's office door closed soundly behind them.

Joe Early remained leaning where he was against the wall, smiling hugely.
"That's fine. Somebody'll remember to come back in here soon to ask 
me exactly what room number and floor she's on. Nobody on the staff knows
that yet except me. I think I'll wait around right here for a couple of minutes until
somebody finally pokes their head back in. Then I'll show them the way." he 
celebrated. 

Joe Early got busy pouring himself another suddenly very tasty cup of java.
"Here's to you, Dixie." he toasted to the air. "Welcome back."


FIN

Episode Forty One,  Attrition
Emergency Theater Live
 

            
                            End Credits --  Episode Forty One (Sixth Season)
                                      
                                                     §§    Attrition     §§


                        :)    This episode is dedicated to the late beloved actress             :)
                              Julie London, whose style and beauty made Dixie McCall
                              come to life before our eyes into the funny, saucy, soothing
                        :)    character she was meant to be in each and every episode.     :) 
    
 
The Story Unfolds...

Season Six, Episode Forty Two..
 
 §§    Pilot Light    §§
 
Debut Launch: February 1st, 2007. 

**************************************************
From: patti keiper <pattik1@hotmail.com> 
Date: Thu Feb 15, 2007 4:41 pm 
Subject: That Irritating Edge..   
 
The sunlight was just beginning to cast its past noon shadows when Henry the
basset lifted up his head at the sound of both of Station 51's vehicles
returning from a run as they backed up in the vehicle bay.
 
By the time the guys filed into the kitchen, the laid back hound had already
begun wagging his tail at them from the deep recesses of the chocolate brown
vinyl couch.
 
"And that's another thing...." said Gage empathetically at Roy as he strode
in energetically to the kitchen stove to pour himself a cup of still warming 
tar thick coffee. "How many times have we, just in this month alone, 
transported some little old lady or old man without knowing all the facts?"
 
Behind him, Chet Kelly and Mike Stoker took to the rec chairs and turned on
an active baseball game. Captain Stanley mildly noted Roy and Johnny still
going on adamantly about the call they had returned from and just rolled his
eyes as he reached over to the fruit bowl on the table. To make a point, he
loudly crunched and bit his apple in Johnny's ear, just to bug him.
 
DeSoto glanced up at Hank in total agreement. "I agree absolutely, Cap. He's
chewing on this bone just a little too much." he said, still worked up. DeSoto
sat down in a kitchen chair and stretched out to pull the widely scattered morning
paper sections that no one had completely read yet and started organizing
them into piles with some agitation. 
 
Gage parked a butt cheek on the edge of the table between Cap and Roy and
grasped the air with a couple of finger tips, leaning over. "You gotta admit her
life depended on us knowing her drug allergies.. Am I wrong?"
 
Roy sighed in resignation and stopped fussing with his now neatly stacked pile
of printed wood pulp. "Ok.. ok.. You're not wrong. Yes, she could have been a little
bit more comfortable with that morphine for her pneumonia induced chest pain, but
who are we to further risk her health? She already got into trouble once indirectly 
because of us. You heard Dr. Brackett. Once he knew we didn't have positive I.D. 
on our patient, he went into one hundred percent caution mode, just like we did." 
DeSoto said, stabbing a finger down onto the tabletop.
 
"That's exactly my point, Roy. Her quality of care suffered because we didn't have
all of her medical facts readily available. She couldn't talk well enough. All the 
lights weren't on upstairs!" Gage exasperated, tapping a finger against his temple.

DeSoto tossed his head without amusement. "Isn't that usually the case with us?
People are either in shock, or in some kind of altered level of consciousness and
are never in any condition to share their information."
 
Gage threw up his hands, beginning to pace again. "Why aren't people just a little
bit smarter these days? It only takes a couple of seconds to ...to...to...write down
pertinent patient information like current medications and any continuous ongoing 
medical conditions and pop that note into a purse or something."
 
Chet had been listening closely, serious for once. "Well what if you don't carry a 
purse, Gage? I mean, you won't have one if you're not female."
 
Hank jumped in, offering his two cents worth. "And besides that, who's gonna
carry a purse or wallet about the house whereever they go so it always stays 
in the same room with them? Last time I checked nobody's expecting to fall sick
at the drop of a hat."
 
Gage eyeballed both firemen with sudden speechlessness. "I don't know. I'm just
the frustrated working paramedic here. I don't have all the answers."
 
Kelly looked up at Johnny. "Well, maybe you should start finding some if you're
not happy, Johnny. I know that'll give us all a little peace and quiet this afternoon." 
he said, dragging a sports section away from Roy's pile of newspaper.
 
"Hey, Chet." snapped DeSoto. "Get your own.." he glared.
 
Chet ignored him. "Is this paper addressed to you?" he said, holding up the mailing
label sticker he instantly tore free. "Since when was 'Care of : Station 51, 
2049 E 223rd St and Wilmington' your personal house address?"
 
Cap decided enough was enough. "Listen up, guys, pipe it down. All
this sniping at each other concerning a bad call's not helping matters, or our
appetites." he said, hanging up the phone receiver. "Now I've just ordered
a ton of pizza, enough for all of us, as a special treat so we can just try
and forget this whole morning. Let's lighten up a little, huh? Bad calls are 
gonna happen. But at least we didn't lose that sweet old dear when we very 
well could have."
 
"Thank heavens for Narcan.." mumbled Roy under his breath.
 
Arf! barked Henry sensing the tension in the room.
 
Johnny hushed up and finally took a seat next to Roy, and pushed away his untasted
coffee mug. "You're right, Cap. It IS stupid beating this dead horse to death."
 
"Ain't he already dead?" quipped Kelly.
 
"Huh?" asked Gage, squinting at Chet, only half hearing.
 
"Never mind.." said the Irishman, licking a thumb so he could turn a page
for the latest football statistics when he felt Cap glaring at him.
 
Johnny got to his feet and used Henry as a comfortable head pillow while he laid
himself down on his back to take a nap on the couch. The large tan and white 
dog let him, wagging his tail in rich pleasure, pleased to no end that 
somebody was finally paying attention to him. "Be that as it may, you guys. I'm
bound and determined to solve this dilemma and nip this continually irritating 
missing facts on a rescue call effect, right in the butt."
 
"Yeah, well, I wish you all the luck on that." Cap said, starting to set out plates 
enough for six. "The day any fire station ever has all of their critically needed 
on-scene information, is the day I become a happy man."
 
Chet looked up with a quip. "Gage, You'd better hurry up then."
 
Cap snapped a dish towel at Kelly to shut his trap.

---------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Dixie McCall sighed as she dragged herself back to the main ER desk to
catch up on her charting work. 
 
Dr. Early, reviewing and cataloging the week's paramedic rescue call
audio reels, looked up in sympathy. "Been one of those days?" he asked
the frazzled nurse.
 
"It's been a WEEK of one of those days, Joe. I'm bushed. When's it gonna
end?" she moaned in agony.
 
Joe looked at his watch, checking the time. "For you? In about four hours,
eighteen minutes.." he joked.
 
"That's not funny and you know it. That's over half a shift away." she whimpered.
 
"Yeah, well. If it helps, the rest of us are stuck here right alongside of you."
he said, beginning to massage some of the aches out of Dixie's shoulders 
gently in sympathy. "It's been a while since you've worked a code, hasn't it?"
 
Dixie just made a face. "Quite frankly, I can't remember the last time I did c.p.r. on
someone. Not until today. Now I'm feeling every knot."
 
"Next time, order a student nurse to do it." Joe offered.
 
"I couldn't. They were all tied up. Believe me, next time Roy and Johnny comes in
with an arrest victim, I'm not gonna give them any flack at all about dripping sweat 
pools onto the treatment room floor." McCall said empathetically.
 
"Why don't you take a few minutes off and go grab yourself a shower in
the locker room. I'm free for a bit." Early offered.
 
"Oh, really?" Dixie said, looked up, still melting in relief under his ministrations.
 
"Why not? I can man the phones with the best of them." 
 
"Ok..  Sure?" she asked, painfully eager.

Joe nodded, grinning easily. 

"Back in ten minutes. Thanks, Joe, you're an absolute lifesaver.."
Dixie said, worming out of her chair and eagerly dashing down the hall.
 
"Last time I checked.." said Joe, waving at her retreating back cheerfully.
 
Dr. Early sat down on Dixie's stool and began familiarizing himself with her 
station, quietly humming to himself happily for his good deed done.
 
That's when the phones began to ring..  All of them.
 
--------------------------------------------------------------------------------
 
Photo:  Cap asking Gage a question at the table. 
 
Photo: Chet and Roy checking mail. 
 
Photo: Henry peeking over the couch.
 
Photo: Dixie, not happy at the desk.
 
Photo: Joe, answering a phone with glasses on.
 
*************************************************
From :  patti keiper <pattik1@hotmail.com> 
Sent :  Friday, February 16, 2007 4:15 PM 
Subject :  Into The Thick... 
 
Joe grabbed for the nearest phone. The red one.
"Rampart Emergency, This is Dr. Early." he said as he
uncradled, then nestled a second phone, the outside line
black one, onto his shoulder. "Go ahead." he said into
the first receiver.

He repeated his introduction into the second phone and
traded receivers back and forth while he gesticated wildly
with the rest of his body, trying to get other passing orderlies,
or nursing students to go into the glass enclosed base station
to start a third paramedic call hail.

Joe fell into attentive listening on the rosy phone. "A gas leak?!
Ma'am. Call the fire department. No, wait. Don't call the fire department.
Just gather up your family and get the h*ll out of there. Go to 
a neighbor's once you have everybody, then do it." he insisted.

Early shifted to the black line. "Go ahead. This is Rampart Emergency."
he squinted as he tried to ignore the staff ring on Dixie's white phone
linked to the labs, on the desk in front of him. He toggled on its
speaker function with an elbow. "ER desk, whose results do you have?"
he said to that phone's pickup.

The black receiver jarbled something into his ear. "Squad 110? What 
are you doing way up there? You're legally out of your jurisdiction."
Joe told the paramedic on the long distance land line. "I don't know
how I can authorize an I.V. across county lines. Hold on, go ask Dr.
Brackett about it." he said, transferring that call to Kel's extension
with a few buttons. He tossed that phone down onto the counter top
with a clatter.

The white speaker phone nestled in between all of Dixie's open
charts, began warbling. ##We have the results on Mrs. Fishmacher, 
Treatment Room Two...## said the creamy lab phone. ## Po2 levels 
are still down. Her arterial blood gases are 82 % Sedimentation rates 
are...## it droned on.

Joe was jiggling now, dancing under the flashing red beacon buzzing
above the base station door, angling every free body part 
upwards in a vain pointing attempt to get somebody who was a doctor
or medic equivalent's attention, to answer it.

Finally, Joe said last words to the red phone. "Hang up and get out.
Now. Your life depends on it." Then he slammed it back into its cradle 
on the wall.

To the speaker phone, he shared kernels of wisdom. "Have one of
your aides transcribe all of your results and run it up here in person.
Excuse me, I have an emergency call."

##Don't we always?## said the disgruntled lab tech downstairs at
Joe's long tedious way of handling his information before he hung up.

Joe practically dove through the glass door to get to the fire station
paramedic talk button on the base station's radio receiver. "Unit calling
in, repeat. This is Rampart Emergency."

On the opposite corner, another paramedic receiver began hailing.
The only problem was, that radio was out of arm and leg's reach.
Joe began to do a fair imitation of a tennis player in a heated match
as he ran back and forth between the two transmissions.

##Rampart, this is Squad 99...##
"Go, 99." hurried Joe.
                                              ##Rampart, this is Rescue 10.##
                                               
                                              "I read you loud and clear, 10." said Joe,
                                               beginning to puff as he weaved back and 
                                               forth to talk to both paramedics
                                               simultaneously. "Go ahead."

                                               ##Rampart, we have multiple victims of
                                               a high impact MVA. Four in number...##

##Rampart, we've a witnessed
cardiac arrest in progress. 
Permission first to insert an 
esophageal airway.## said the first
paramedic team.

"Do it. Then send me a strip after 
your first countershock." ordered Joe.

                                                ##Rampart, Victim One, a male, aged nine.
                                                Severed left leg that's unsalvagable. Unconscious
                                                and being artificially ventilated. Victim Two, female,
                                                aged seventy one, basilar skull fracture, semi conscious.
                                                Victim Three...## continued 10's transmission.

                                                Joe began writing notes, with both hands.

                Then the third alcove receiver went off, from the main fire department
                dispatching center and that one, really got Joe's undivided attention.
                @@@Stand by for Official Notification. Los Angeles Center for
                Seismology. Ritcher Alert.. I repeat, Richter Alert...@@@

                Joe Early threw a cup of pencils at the window and finally got
                a passing Dr. Morton's attention as he hooked get-in-here-right-now
                fingers at him. Mike hastened to comply.

                "Take 10's and 99's. Something big's brewing on the SCU Channel."
                said Early, passing off his two note pads. "99's M.I. is on Alpha.
                I've set aside 10's needs for Beta on the monitor." he said jerking
                a finger at the Tetronix EKG Telemetry Station that he had flipped
                on into active receiving. Strips of EKG paper were already beginning
                to wind around his feet.

##Rampart, he's aspirating!##
reported 99.

                                                    ##Victim Four has a penetrating evisceration.
                                                    We need a doctor flown out here to stabilize
                                                    him initially. Mast trousers are contraindicated.##
                                                    requested 10.


::Dixie, where are you? Shower fast.:: thought Joe as he and Dr. Morton
began to prepare for their worst and most important incoming earthquake
transmission. Joe hit a button on the wall intercom that broke into the 
hospital's general overhead speakers. "Early to all staff. Condition Orange. 
Condition Orange. Report to your assigned duty departments. Stat. Dr. 
Brackett, to the base station.."

------------------------------------------------------------------------------

"Where's Cap?" asked Roy.

"In the office." replied Gage. "He was nice enough to let
me borrow this."

"Oh.." said DeSoto, putting away their leftover pizza boxes
into the refrigerator.

"Fellas, what does this look like to all of you?" asked Johnny,
half holding up a familiar white plastic shaped bottle as he wrestled
a fully paper laden heavy mint green typewriter onto the kitchen
table top. He made a lot of noise pushing all their empty dinner
dishes aside with an agile free foot to make space for it.

"A type writer." Marco guessed.

"Nope. This other thing I'm carrying..." Johnny redirected them
as he set the workhorse machine down heavily.

Kelly looked up from his newspaper for about two seconds.
"A bottle of Buffrin."

"No, Chet, look beyond the label, that's not gonna be there
when I'm through with it. I'm peeling it off and adding one
of my own. No, what I'm referring to is....this is a protected,
sealed container that can hold just about anything. Maybe even
something life saving once I'm through with it." Johnny said, 
getting a little passionate.

Kelly made a face and he began studying Johnny as if he had turned
into some kind of fascinating science project. "Gage, do you know how 
much you're beginning to sound like a qwack here?"

"Well, thanks a lot for the name calling, Chet. I didn't come in here
to show all you guys my little something just to h--"

"No..no no, Johnny. Quit taking me so figuratively. I meant
that term literally.." Chet said matter of factly.

Gage shot him a dirty look.

Kelly held up surrendering hands when Gage melted him with
that glare. "I didn't mean what you're thinking. Stop and think about it.. 
A qwack : Someone who sells home remedys that do absolutely 
nothing for the buyer."

"Still doesn't matter. I'm still offended. My idea will definitely mean
something to the buyer, and us, too, once I'm through with it."

Chet was still hung up on details. "A qwack, Gage. And I don't mean
duck. Remember how they used to go around in covered wagons in the 
Old West pitching stuff that was pure alcohol and calling it Mr. 
Farnan's All Fire Cure Tonic and stuff? That's a professional qwack.
Qwack medicine."

"Do I look like I'm an expert on cowboys, Chet?"

Kelly gave Gage a very odd look.

"No, don't answer that." Johnny sighed, grinning.
In his head he could hear Chet's reply. ::Well, you
are an Indian.:: "Ah,.. gimme a couple of days to get my plan
all together and I'll show ya what I mean. I can't believe 
nobody's ever thought of doing this kind of thing before. My 
idea's absolutely brilliant. I can't wait to get started on it 
to submit to the chiefs as an action plan." he said, sitting
down and beginning to type and add sentences to his blank 
sheet eagerly.

"What? Brown nosing McConnike?" said Marco. "You
know how that particular angle turned out with Cap."

"Yeah, well, I'm different. I'm not as sensitive about my first name
and I certainly.. am not gonna be burning any hats." Johnny said
empathetically. 

"No, but just don't go around burning down all your bridges
before you come to them." Chet said.

The other guys chuckled from whereever they were.

"I don't follow.." said Johnny, frowning in confusion at Kelly
and the rest of his crewmates.

"If you suck up to the boss too much, I know that myself for one,
might get a little envious." Chet said. "And that might go for some of
the other guys in this kitchen, too."

"Envious?! Chet, my idea is going to go, in order to try and help 
people. Now how is that a jealousy problem?"

"You'd be making yourself look good." said Roy without sting.
"Better than the rest of us guys."

Johnny's mouth flopped wide open. "Roy, I can't believe you just
said that. For Pete's sake, you're my partner. I'd never do anything
to snub you. Not intentionally." he said, rising to his feet in surprise.

Station 51's engineer piped up.
"Yeah? Well what about the rest of us? We all have reputations
to protect as far as job performance goes in the eyes of higher ups."
said Stoker.

Gage set both hands on his hips, thoroughly offended, gaping for 
long seconds. Then he changed tact.  "Chet, did I hum and haw and 
complain when you developed those walk on walls suction cup shoes 
of yours?"

Kelly finally met Gage's eyes. "They didn't work."

"Yes they did...." ::I got a good laugh.:: "No, uhh. All right. Ok. They didn't
because of their..previously unknown....natural affinity for pavement.." 
he said, the corner of his mouth curling up. "What I'm really getting at
is that not once did I ever make a fuss that you were going to the 
Chiefs with a new invention."

"Geez, Gage. That was real big of ya." Chet said with an edge.

"No! AHhhgh." Johnny grimaced, spinning around in a little circle. "Quit
twisting my words around. You know what I meant."

DeSoto popped another potato chip into his mouth. "I think, Chet, what
he's trying to tell you is that he was keeping an open mind and was
being supportive about your tinkering by not opening his yap and saying
anything negative about it."

"That's it! That's it exactly, Roy." Gage smiled hugely, in great relief.
"Thank you."

Chet looked askance. "Gage can have an open mind? And be supportive?
That's news to me. Usually he only does that when he's paramedic-ing 
somebody."

Gage threw up his hands and finally stalked off in search of another 
table top to set his tiny typewriter on to finish his proposal.

"So what are ya gonna call it?" Chet hollered after the disappearing 
Johnny.

"...The Bottle Of Health Program..." Johnny shot back from around 
the corner, still hugging his typewriter protectively.

On the couch, Henry whined nervously and suddenly decided to
thump down onto the floor to go follow and comfort Gage, who was 
still smelling miffed.

They all watched him stretch all four limbs in preparation to go.

Kelly shook his head in casual dismissal. "Still sounds like a qwack."
he said, turning back to the dishes.

"Give him time." said Roy. "He just might be on to something here."
he said thoughtfully. "I almost got it figured out what he's aiming at."

Chet quipped. "Well, you're just about the only person who can figure 
out Gage, man. And that's the truth."

Bark! said Henry.

"Oh, forgive me, Henry. You're the second one who probably can. But
then again, you're our dog. You'll love anybody who's actually one of
the hands that feeds ya. Won't ya, boy?" he said, affectionately scrubbing
the hound's thick hide with all of his water dripping fingers until Henry 
rolled over right where he was and collapsed, moaning with pleasure.

The tones went off.

-------------------------------------------------------

Photo:  A seismic graph.. jiggling.

Photo:  Joe Early on the base station receiver.

Photo:  A biophone receiver's screen up close.

*Animation*- A typing typewriter and paper.

Photo:  Marco and Chet grinning.

Photo: Gage looking put off.

Photo:  A massive marina fire by a large body of water.

***************************************************
From: "Derrick" <rescueman1962@yahoo.com>
Date: Sat Feb 17, 2007 8:46 pm 
Subject: Helping Friends

##Squad 51, Man down. 21356 South Avalon Boulevard. South Avalon 
Boulevard. Cross Street 213. Time out: 14:57.## Sam Lanier's voice 
rang over the loudspeaker.

"Squad 51, 10-4. KMG 365..." Chet said as he answered the call
for his crewmates.

"That's the police station, isn't it ?" Gage said to DeSoto as he
started up the squad.

"Yep, I wonder what could be going on there." Roy answered.

The squad left the station as usual with its lights and siren on and
it was only a short four minute response time to the police station.

The captain was there to meet Johnny and Roy as they entered the sta-
tion and other officers were standing near the watch commander's office
with long looks of concern. It had appeared that one of their fellow
officers had taken ill and collapsed.

Captain Drury said to Gage and DeSoto. "One of my men started to feel
nauseous and dizzy then bam, he hit the floor like a ton of bricks!
He went out like a pilot light. He seems to be breathing all right, 
but we can't get Vince to respond!" the captain said.

"Who'd you say it is again?" Gage said.

"It's Vince!" The captain exclaimed.

The firemen approached Vince, who was lying supine on the floor.
Scotty was keeping his airway open and Sergeant Tom Staler was
taking steps to try to arouse Vince, who was unconscious.

"Hey Vince, your two favorite paramedics are here. They're gonna 
help you. Can you hear me, Vince?" Sergeant Staler said as he 
once again vigorously rubbed on his sternum.

"Okay, let's get an airway in and get a set of vitals for Rampart."
Roy directed Johnny when he saw Vince wasn't feeling that pain.
 
Captain Drury directed his crew to get back out on the street on
patrol and he told them that he'd keep them posted. 

Sgt. Staler and Scotty stayed behind with Vince in case Gage and 
DeSoto needed their help.

Johnny slipped in an oral airway. He had already hooked up the Ambu-
Bag to the oxygen tank and turned it on to 15 liters per minute when
he saw how Vince was breathing.

"I'll do that.." said one worried policeman close by.

"Okay." smiled Johnny.

Officer Scotty began ventilating Vince while Roy and Johnny 
recorded vital signs to give to Rampart.

"BP is 90 by palp. Pulse is 120 and a bit weak." Roy said to
his partner.

"I got respirations of 26 and labored, he has O2 saturations at 95
percent. I'm now getting a Chemstrip reading of..... 68." Johnny said
as he read the color change on it using blood from a pricked finger 
against the user bottle.

"Okay, you hook him up to the monitor while I contact Rampart."
said Roy.

Roy plugged the antennae into the biophone and turned the power
switch on. The main channel was busy and he heard Squad 116's lead
paramedic Al Jacobson finishing up his conversation with Dr. Morton 
with a major trauma patient from a motorcycle accident. He flipped 
over to the backup channel and there, Tom Wheeler with Squad 110 
was just signing off with Joe Early on their run.

DeSoto waited those few brief seconds and said. "Rampart, County 51. 
How do you read ?"

##Loud and clear, 51. Go ahead.## Early replied.

"Rampart, we have a 39 year old male, unresponsive, who was found by
co-workers. Unconsciousness may be due, we suspect, to possible syncope
or hypoglycemia. Bystanders state that he suddenly fell from a standing
position and was unconscious and unresponsive for six minutes prior to
our arrival. We have initial vitals of : BP 90 by palp, pulse 120 and irreg-
ular, respirations 26 and irregular. O2 sats are at 95 percent. We've
done a Chemstrip and we got a reading of 68. He is on the monitor 
showing sinus tach at 120 without ectopi. We are ventilating with 
100 percent O2 per Ambu-Bag at 15 liters and have inserted an oral 
airway. Ambulance is just now arriving. We will send you a strip with 
new vitals to follow."

##Standing by, 51.## Early replied.

"Rampart, this will be Lead II." Roy said as he transmitted the information 
about Vince's cardiovascular activity from the Datascope through
the biophone to Rampart.

------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

In an ironic twist, Dr. Brackett came walking into the base station and
said to Dr. Early. "Hey Joe, have you seen Vince around here?"

"Nope, not since he brought in that guy in his custody, 
from the fight at Carl's Coffee Shop, to you this morning."
said Joe, studying the EKG paper threading out of the scope
through his fingers.

"Well, that guy's ready to go to jail." Kel said. "I'll give them a
call." he said about the police station. Then he saw the callsign on 
Joe's notes. "What does 51 have?"

"Could be a mystery." Joe said sarcastically as he toggled the
talk button. "51, this is Rampart." Joe continued.

##Go ahead, Rampart .## Roy answered.

"Start an I.V. D5/W. Then give 1 amp of D50 and transport 
as soon as possible, keeping us posted. What's your ETA?"

##About 10 minutes, Rampart. Do you want a new set of vitals?##
Roy inquired.

"Let's have them." Early said.

##BP is 90 palp. Pulse is now 116, respirations are 20 with O2 
sats at 97 percent. Chemstrip's steady at 68 with the 
patient still showing sinus tach on the monitor at 116 without 
ectopi, over?## said DeSoto.

"Copy, 51. Rampart out." Early replied.
 
-----------------------------------------------------------------

Photos:  None.

**************************************************
From: "patti keiper" <pattik1@hotmail.com> 
Date: Sun Feb 18, 2007 8:03 pm 
Subject:  Blood Powder.. 

Gage touched Officer Scotty's arm. "You can stop now.
His breathing's okay and effective now that it's slowed 
down from that panting."

Scotty set aside the bag valve mask and watched as Johnny
placed a high flow non-rebreather over Vince's face 
and the airway. "What caused him to do that?"

"Could've been a lot of things." said Roy, sweeping down 
Vince's head, neck and back for blood or spasming that might
be there as a result of his awkward fall onto the linoleum
and concrete tiles. "Recovery from the wind getting knocked
out of him, or a brief airway positional problem,.."

"...or what we're thinking of... The fact that his chemistry's way 
off. His blood glucose reading's a little low and departing from 
normal. Can anyone tell me if he's eaten today?" Gage asked,
keeping tabs on the pulse in Vince's wrist, which was beginning
to even back out into a regular rhythm as the Dex 50 I.M. injection
began to do its work.

"I don't know for sure. I can send one of my men to go check his 
locker for his lunch box to see if it's empty." The captain knelt and 
unclipped Vince's radio, vehicle keys and gun from his belt.

"Yeah, good idea. Go do that. It's important we know what
he's ingested and how much." Johnny said, eyeing up Vince's
weapon and holster a little uneasily as it stimulated some memories.

DeSoto straightened up, finishing his hands-on injury check. "He's 
clear, Johnny. I'm finding no bumps, bruising, or open cuts anywhere.
I don't think he'll need a collar, or our backboard." he told Johnny.

Gage's relief at Vince's improving respiratory state, heartened him 
into joking a little. "Whoever does if they don't hit something on the 
way down. Guys falling from Vince's height while being his same 
muscular build, never seem to hurt themselves."

An officer came back into the office, "Mister, his box is empty. And
I know he likes to eat around two thirty."

"Ok, thanks." said Roy.

Mayfair's attendants soon entered the building and rolled their knee
high stretcher into the office at a wave from Roy. "He's stable.
No injuries. But mind his airway." he told them. "He's really out."

"Yes, sir." said one of the red jacketted EMTs. They knelt and cradled
Vince under the arms and the back of his feet while they lifted the 
cool, sweat drenched officer onto the cot. 

Gage pulled out the pillow and tucked it under the mattress frame so
they could tip his head back over the top edge of the seated gurney to
better manage Vince for breathing ease. "He was dyspneic for a while
but that's resolved." he shared. "His gum color's staying good."

"All right." said the older man at Vince's head. "Has he vomited?"

"Uh,,.." said the two paramedics, looking around at the floor for staining
and also inside a nearby waste can that was still sitting in the middle of 
the room. Their heads twisted in a search. 

But soon, DeSoto spoke. 
"Not in here at any rate. But watch for it if it should happen." Roy decided
finally. "Did you get his wallet? We'll need his medical history if he's
got one in there." he asked the EMTs.

"Don't bother. I've got that right here." said Vince's captain, passing over
a freshly copied file that his breathless secretary had just rushed in. 

"Oh, this is perfect. This is exactly what we need. Thanks." said Gage, 
remembering his vented frustrations from earlier that morning.

The attendant nodded and the two began wheeling Vince out the door
once the displaying EKG monitor and O2 apparatus were piled in 
at his feet.  DeSoto called out after him. "I'll join you in a minute to
get another gluc stick." he said.

Johnny sighed as he and Roy packed away their medical gear. "Sorry for
the mess of papers.." he told all the officers, indicating the I.V. bag
plastic and tubing box, gauze pads and ekg sticker backs littering
the floor.  "Want us to tidy up?"

"No..no..Quite all right. Environmental can handle this." said the captain.
"You just go take care of Vince.  Can you give us a call once you find out about
him? I've got half the force chewing their nails and dillydallying around
because they're worried sick about him. Howard's the unofficial station icon
and the personal mentor of every rookie cop ever born who's managed 
to truck through this department."

"We know.." smiled Roy. "We always tell him he's our favorite pointsman."

"And a close friend.." said Gage, hurrying out the door with his active concern
still only barely hidden.

The four of them were pacing across the parking lot when a trembler
shaking up from deep within the earth, caused them to stumble and snatch at
Vince's gurney protectively as it began to roll away from them when their grips
on the guide handles were broken.

"Whoa. What was that?" Johnny said, rechecking Vince's airway tube placement
when they finally had him steadied.

"At least a 3.0." replied Roy, as he watched motorists on the boulevard
react with screeching brakes and wavered driving as they were startled by
the small earthquake.

Gage pulled his HT off the clip on his belt to listen to its speaker more closely. 
"Well, there are no people injured, radio traffic's normal. This must be 
the predicted shaker told to us by the warning alert we heard earlier."
Johnny peered up at the sun, and at their distant mountain repeater tower.
"L.A.'s in monitoring mode on main. Our communication wires are still 
up over there."  he said when he heard no urgent hail begin on priority.

"Radio's still live?"

"Yeah." Gage answered.

"How about the biophone?" Roy asked, fiddling with the EKG dials and its
connections.

Johnny opened the box up and set it up quickly in a check while the EMTs
loaded Vince  into the ambulance. He picked up the phone receiver
and blew into it. He got a squeal right back. "It's hot."

"Good. Let's hope it stays that way." DeSoto said, climbing into the rig
after Vince.

"Let me know the second he wakes up on the way in." Gage said. "I wanna
know what's going on."

"Only a second after I do." Roy promised, taking the resealed biophone from 
Johnny's hand. "Guys, go Code Three. He's a friend. No one will know
we've sped things up a notch."

"Code Two on the report it is.." winked the Mayfair driver.

"Thanks.." said Roy as the door between them closed.

Through the window, he saw Johnny hastening to get behind the squad's
driving wheel.

-----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
DeSoto had just listened to a complete set of breath sounds when
Vince suddenly groaned weakily, protesting the plastic tube in his mouth.

Roy and the cab EMT slid the oxygen mask out of the way. 
 
Vince tried to sit up but the cot straps held him down. Sucking in a breath,
the sick officer pushed out the oral, making gagging sounds.  It fell away 
onto his stomach. 

DeSoto quickly held his shoulders so the groggy cop couldn't pull out
his I.V. "Easy..Vince. Don't panic. You're not choking at all. That was just a
breathing tube." he shouted over the noise of the sirens. When Vince stopped 
fighting as his breaths returned normally, Roy snatched up his HT. "Johnny, 
he spat it out." he said, peeling back the vaguely writhing man's eyelids one
by one for a fast pupil check. They were both dilated. "Mac, he's okay. 
Set the mask back into place. He didn't vomit."

##What's his glasgow?## Johnny transmitted.

"Don't know yet. He's non-verbal. Stand by for a bit." Roy shared. DeSoto
watched as Vince's hands climbed up to grip his lower abdomen. "Vince?
Are you hurting right here?" he asked, opening Vince's black uniform 
shirt and cut away T a little wider so he could undo his belt and pants
zipper for a careful lower quadrants check. He found uniform involuntary 
guarding right above Vince's pubic bone. "That's his bladder."

"Has he voided?" asked the EMT, noticing the finding.

"No. That's odd. He should have done that a long time ago 
when he blacked out."

"A blockage?"

"Maybe.." replied DeSoto. "Let me try and get a response out of him."
DeSoto leaned forward, one hand on Vince's abdomen. "Vince? Open
your eyes.."  Howard didn't, nor did he begin to make noise again. "Can 
you feel this?" Roy asked, pushing down with a couple of knuckles on
the effected area. 

Vince's reaction was immediate. He moaned weakily and began to gag.

DeSoto immediately stopped his probing. "There's pain all right. But he's
not awake enough to talk about it." he sighed. "Mac, go ahead and take 
another pressure to see where he's sitting at. This is something new 
and might be serious. I'll notify Dr. Early."

"Trauma from the fall?"

"No, I'm thinking it's something medical. The cause of all the symptoms
the other officers were telling us about."

Mac did so, using a stethoscope. "It's up. Way up. 150/110."

"D*mn.." said Roy. "Metabolic hypertension. I wonder what his electrolytes 
are doing. His calcium levels must be way off the scale."

DeSoto pulled the monitor closer and found active hypercalcemia dancing 
across the screen with first degree block and Q T wave abbreviations. He 
talked to Johnny, fast. "Johnny. Hypercalcemia, urogenital related most 
likely, with bounding hypertension on palpation. He's still non-verbal, and 
feeling pain, but he's able to manage his own airway."

##Blocked ureter?## Johnny asked instantly.

"No, his guarding's too wide spread. There's a mass, too, down deep. But
it's not pulsatile." answered Roy.

##Ok, let's hope he doesn't sour on us.## said Gage.

::Last thing I want is for Vince to code due to a chemical imbalance. 
My kingdom for an instant blood lab machine in the ambulance.:: Roy
wished, looking at his watch for their estimated E.T.A. as Mac called 
out what street signs they were passing.
 
---------------------------------------------------------- 

Photos:  None.

**************************************************
From: "patti keiper" <pattik1@hotmail.com> 
Date: Wed Feb 21, 2007 4:04 pm 
Subject: Here's to White Coat Medical Know- How... 

Roy DeSoto was ever glad when he finally saw velvet ropes
swing open the automatic doors of Rampart's emergency 
department in response to his ambulance backing up.

Johnny Gage, was even faster, snatching open the rear
doors of the Mayfair. "Roy, how is he?"

"He's showing brady now, at 50, with some coving of 
of his ST-T waves." Roy replied, keeping a hand on Vince's
carotid pulse while the EMTs began wheeling him inside
the hospital. "His LOC's dropping again. He's at a ten."

Gage took hold of Vince's EKG monitor, and he paced
with it so he could study its tracing. "His T waves are a lot
wider than they were before."

"Yeah." DeSoto replied. "Came on suddenly, too. Pressure's
still elevated. 162 palpated. Breathing okay."

"D*mn, I can't figure out what his underlying problem is. And I thought
about it a lot on the way in." Johnny said, keeping a hold on Vince's 
chin so he wouldn't tongue obstruct at the bumps and jolts the gurney 
was suffering while it moved. 

"That's why we're getting him to the big guns." Roy told him.

"He took that nasopharyngeal okay?" Gage said, checking the liter 
flow remainder on their resuscitator tank lying in between Police Officer 
Howard's knees.

Roy nodded. "Didn't even fuss. I put that in because that nausea's 
growing even with his decreasing consciousness level. I got a sample right 
here." he said, casting a head at the sealed emesis bag in a catch container 
under Vince's head nestled inside the stretcher's frame.

"Any blood in it?" Johnny asked.

"Nope, none." DeSoto said in worry.

"Good." said Johnny.  He looked up to see Dixie rushing towards them. 
Her hair was in a freshly damp ponytail around her pinned on nurse's cap.

"Treatment Three." she said no nonsense, already knowing who to expect as 
a patient. "Joe said he's got Dr. Brackett waiting for you." she said.  
Uncharacteristically, she reached under Vince's shoulder and pulled out
his I.V. bag. She helped carry it, hanging over the bed.

Johnny noticed. "Why aren't you as surprised as we are about seeing Vince
today?" he asked in curiosity as they maneuvered a turn around the corner
hallway x-ray machine. 

"His station's captain called us, fishing for details. I was the one who answered 
the phone." McCall said, opening the door to the treatment room. "Believe me,
I may look calm as cookies on the outside, but inside....." Then she leaned 
down to Vince's ear and whispered to him. "Vince, you've arrived. I promise 
we'll take really good care of you. I got a hold of only the best." And
smirking, she added. "Don't worry about that perp you left with us in Treatment 
Five. L.A. City took him downtown in a pair of double handcuffs two hours ago.
And he wasn't looking too happy about it." she joked.

The paramedics thought they saw a few lines around Vince's closed 
eyes relax out of stress at the end of one of his shallow respirations.

-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

In the "stabe" room, they found Kel on the phone and two orderlies were 
present. The no nonsense doctor looked up. "Get him stripped down and 
warmed up." he told them. Then he finished his phone call. "Betty, I want 
an endocrinologist, a nephrologist and an oncologist down here for an
emergency consultation, stat." Then he hung up the receiver. "Boys...?" he 
asked Roy and Johnny, as he joined them to place a hand on Vince's
clammy forehead. Kel began an eye exam while Dixie switched out
Vince's oxygen supply.

DeSoto started talking while Johnny helped the orderlies take off the rest of 
Vince's uniform. "He's a little worse, doc. The arrythmias are more pronounced." 

"Okay.. Stan, get another strip run out for me." he said to one of the men. "Dixie,
would you read this history and tell me if he's got anything pertinent?" he
said, passing the file folder off to her when he recognized the police records 
markings on it.

"Right away, doctor." Dixie replied.

Kel straightened up from his eye exam. "Roy, did you notice this? Take
a look at his right eye."

Roy pulled out his pen light and looked. "What in the world is that?"

Kel smiled, briefly. "That's called band keratopathy, Johnny, I want you to
examine this, too, and you'll see some calcium precipitation lying in a 
horizontal band across the cornea in the palpebral aperture. This is
a sure sign of hypercalcemia."

Dixie spoke up. "Kel, he's got nothing remarkable in here. At all."
she said holding up Vince's police employee file.

"Hmmm." Kel sighed. "Figures. Guess we'll have to do things the 
hard way and start from scratch."

Roy was thoughtful, thinking where he stood. "Stones, bones, abdominal
moans and psychic groans." he mumbled, indicating to Kel where he had
found the guarding around the apparent mass in Vince's groin area. 

"Huh?" Gage asked him.

Kel chuckled. "Oh, very good. Johnny, he's describing the mnemonic for
the constellation of symptoms and signs of hypercalcemia. Don't tell me,
you learned that while serving in Viet Nam."

"Yeah.. From a very good doctor. Hawkeye Pierce." DeSoto said quietly.

"My predecessor." Brackett's eyes twinkled. "Roy, you called this one right
on the money. Cardiac effects include syncope from arrhythmias. Hypercalcemia 
affects nearly every organ system in the body, but it particularly affects the CNS 
and kidneys. With very high levels, somnolence, coma, and death may ensue. 
The CNS effects are due to the direct depressant effect of free calcium in the
bloodstream. You were right to rush Vince into the hospital. Any sudden change 
or rise in calcium levels should've trigger consideration for a more serious condition.
You saw this spot on."

Roy accepted the compliment with difficulty, because he was worried.

"Is this high calcium causing his hypertension?" Johnny asked.

Doctor Brackett answered while he did percussion thumps and a
careful hands on exploration of Vince's damp abdomen. "Yes,.. most likely. 
Based on what Roy and I are feeling here, presumably from renal dysfunction 
caused by urinary retention and direct Ca+ ion effected vasoconstriction." Dr. 
Brackett told him. "Now all we have to do is find out whether or not this abdominal 
mass is really the cause of this problem, or not."

Gage frowned. "I don't like the way that last part sounded, doc."

Kel agreed. "Neither do I, gentlemen. The two most common causes for Vince's
condition are hyperparathyroidism, easily corrected by a surgical neck exploration 
and removal of one or more parathyroid glands if it's warranted.." he met both of his
paramedics' eyes. "...or neoplasmic activity."

"Malignancy?" Dixie mouthed in dismay.
"Cancer?" said Gage at the same time. 

Johnny sucked in a breath.

"I'm afraid so." said Brackett. "I have three very good specialists on the
way down here to help determine exactly what, if that second condition
pans out in his initial labwork, is going on."   He turned to Dixie. "First 
thing's first. Dixie, I want him set for full volume expansion with constant 
saline diuresis. I want a second LRS I.V. begun. We'll use this first one 
that Roy and Johnny started for fluid loading to increase calcium excretion. 
We've got to get his levels down a.s.a.p. But the second line, I want set 
aside for an infusion with a concomitant loop diuretic. Uh,...make it 
standard furosemide."

"What else do you want, Kel?" McCall asked.

"Another med, Pamidronate, 90 mg I.V. over twenty four hours. I want to
attack his imbalance from multi-angles. We'll try and use a different
bisphosphonate orally later on to inhibit further bone reabsorption
after Vince's more awake and feeling a little better." Dr. Brackett said.

McCall wrote down fast notes in Vince's new chart. "Aredia, 90 for one
day. And Lasix. 1.0 mg/kg slow I.V. push over 1-2 minutes. Let me know
if you want that repeated." she told him.

"I will. With any luck, that diuretic will nip his hypertensive crisis in the butt
at the same time." Brackett affirmed. He turned to the orderlies. "Insert a 
nasogastric tube and aspirate all of Vince's gastric contents. Least we can
do is spare him some repeated vomiting. Also, cath him. Let's see if
we can relieve that bladder to expose his groin mass a little more. When you're 
through, one of you remain behind to regularly assess his consciousness level.
If he goes down any deeper, we'll manage his cerebral edema with intubation 
and hyperventilation. Dixie, if he does need support again, call Dr. Rivers
to perform an arterial cannulation as a monitoring aid during mechanical ventilation 
if it's needed. We can use it to keep tabs on his Po2 levels or for further
intensive care for his developing coma condition and acidosis." ordered Kel.

Dixie bit her pencil. "Do you want a Mannitol drip on standby to stop brain
swelling in case of coma?"

"Yeah,..If it happens. 0.2-0.5 g/kg over 15-20 min (1-2.5 mL/kg of 20% solution); 
after that, repeat after an hour. But we'll only go ahead with that when we
have all-inclusive signs that Vince isn't suffering from progressive renal damage.
When you infuse it, should it become necessary, carefully evaluate his
cardiovascular status first, I don't want a sudden dose of mannitol resulting
in any fulminating CHF. Vince's ill enough as it is."

"Got it." and the silvery blond nurse busied herself with preparations.

Johnny Gage ambled over and got on the lab phone. He picked it up. 
"Doc, what do you want for Vince's tests and labwork? I'll call it in for
Dixie."

"Thanks, Johnny. Write this down and dictate it to them. Blood glucose,
every hour. Arterial blood gases, blood pH, potassium, sodium, 
Blood urea and creatinine, a full blood count, PCV and uroketones. Also
tell them I want a blood culture and an amylase study, serum 
phosphorus, serum alkaline,  phosphatase urine, calcium urine phosphate
and a PTH.  Unrelated, call oncology and tell them I want a PSA level
baseline."

::Prostate enzyme?:: Roy thought at that last test. ::That mass might
be an enlarged prostate gland. That would explain that retained urine, too.::
he figured. ::Smart to cover that possibility.::  DeSoto realized.

He lifted his head after getting another pressure once Dixie had given Vince
his first diuretic injection. "Doc, 134/88."

"That's better." Dr. Brackett said as he watched improving changes on
Vince's heart monitor. "Roy, can you call Radiology and get some
chest radiographs. I want to rule out sarcoidosis."

"What's that, doc?" Gage asked. "Is that a lymphoma?"

Kel smiled at Johnny's curiosity. "Sarcoidosis is not a form of cancer. It involves
inflammation that produces tiny lumps of cells in various organs in your body. 
The lumps are called granulomas because they look like grains of sugar or sand. 
They are very small and can be seen only with a microscope or on x-ray films
once they clump up into larger groups. If many granulomas form in an organ, 
they can affect how the organ works."

"Ah, so you're hunting for signs of acute renal failure in him due to
secondary causes that are manifesting away from that area of his body." 
Johnny guessed.

"Yes, I am." replied Brackett. "Sarcoidosis can occur in almost any part of your body, 
although it usually affects some organs more than others. It usually starts in one 
of two places: in the lungs and in the lymph nodes, especially the lymph nodes 
in your chest cavity. Roy also get some plain plates and films of his pelvis and
upper legs, lateral and frontal. I want to know if he has any demineralization, 
pathologic fractures, bone cysts, or any bony metastases spreading." 

"Ok, doc."

"Also call Dialysis. Tell them I want a hemodialysis against a lower calcium 
concentration dialysate solution for Howard, stat. Maybe that'll be the faster
way to lower his soaring plasma calcium levels."

Roy nodded and got talking.

Dixie flew out of the room with her blood samples. "I'm taking these to the lab
myself, Kel. I'll stay down there until I have his initial results."

"All right, Dix. Call me in five minutes." said Brackett.

Kel leaned forward and began a detailed neuro exam on Vince with
the two paramedics helping him assess Howard's reflexes. They found
hypotonia in all of Vince's muscles and moderate lower leg paresis.
Brackett sighed and stepped back once they were through. "He's entering 
early coma." he frowned.

Johnny looked up from a probing sweep against Vince's tongue. "He doesn't
have a gag reflex, doc. Do you want us to intubate him?"

"Go ahead. Use an EOA. If he's depressed, put him on assisted P.E.E.P.." 
Brackett said, listening to Howard's cardiac and lung sounds using
his stethoscope. "Looks like we're gonna need that CT scan after all."

Roy helped lubricate an airway for Johnny after taking one the proper size
out of the crash cart parked near Vince's head. "D- Doc? Uh, if this is
renal failure, what are his options for that particular diagnosis?" he said,
handing it over to his partner. He positioned the limp officer's head
back over the edge of the gurney after pulling Vince up on the bed
by the shoulders. He was careful not to disturb his many catheters and
tubes. When he was through, he aimed his penlight into Vince's mouth
while Johnny got to work threading the airway down.

"First of all, I want to rule out all possibilities of malignancy because
hypercalcemia caused by a neoplasm tends to be much more serious.
Often, the hypercalcemia is the immediate cause of death in patients with 
what we call ectopic PTHrP production, a chemical imbalance caused by
a tumor eating into the bone tissue that surrounds it."

"That sounds bad. Real bad." Roy said.

"It is." Brackett told him quite honestly."Those patients rarely survive more 
than a few weeks or months. Now other conditions such as some of the
micro lymphomas are less catastrophic on the body's systems.  
These patients may live longer but still have a poor prognosis, especially 
if their serum calcium levels are very high."

Roy looked away, feeling and looking troubled. He didn't met Johnny's
eyes when Gage was through getting Vince set on the respirator.

Kel comforted the pair of men whose team he considered one of the best. 
"There's every chance Vince still has a whole lot going for him. If his 
calcium levels have been mildly elevated for months or years, then malignancy 
is an extremely unlikely cause.  It could swing the other way quite
easily with hyperparathyroidism. If that's the case, then a fairly minor
subtotal parathyroidectomy can be performed, or a complete parathyroidectomy 
can be done with reimplantation of a small amount of that tissue in a forearm."

"Doesn't sound minor. Sounds like it's pretty major..." Johnny frowned.

Kel waved a hand of dismissal. "When a biochemical diagnosis of primary 
hyperparathyroidism is made, CT scan, ultrasound, MRI, and radionuclide 
imaging of the parathyroid gland helps greatly with a surgeon's
preoperative localization. When he goes in, he knows exactly where he's
headed down to the milimeter. So the incision made is only about
two inches long across the neck. Right here." said Kel, demonstrating.

"Wow.. I didn't know that things had changed so much. Seems like all
this CT and MRI machinery's just sprung up overnight."

"It has, we've got the first set of test machines and the only ones in
active practice right now in the entire nation." Brackett said.

DeSoto was a realist. "But how about that ARF? Vince still might be
facing that kidney failure as well, regardless of what's really causing 
his calcium level fluctuations." Roy said, studying his hands, where
he stood by Vince's bed.

"That's always possible." admitted Brackett. "Acute renal failure is always
better than any chronic cases, for ARF is reversible as long as a patient 
is highly polyuric. And we can offset Vince's developing ARF condition if 
we continue to avoid having him fall into hypovolemia. That's the reason for
the massive I.V. fluid loading we're doing right now." he said, throwing a 
hand at the new I.V. Dixie had set running wide open.

Brackett frowned and uncharacteristically, took Vince's moist hand to
offer his patient encouragement. "I'm hoping for some kind of chemical insult, 
drugs or toxins as being the culprit for causing Vince's ischemic injury to his
kidneys, for that would mean that his overall circulatory system still remains
normal in every respect with an excellent chance on making a full recovery.
All we have to do, is find that chemical and counteract it."

"Besides all those blood tests we ran, what can we do to pinpoint
something like that?" Roy asked softly. His head shot up when Vince's
monitor bleeped out a warning pulse.

An orderly shifted on his stool. "Sorry, that was me. I knocked an EKG 
lead off, while I was sitting down. He's fine." 

Kel, too grabbed a stool, the one by the white lab phone. Roy followed him
but found that he couldn't sit or even stand still.

Dr. Brackett told Roy the truth. "Ok, this is probably going to be Vince's 
clinical course. Remember that pain you found and told Joe about?"

Roy nodded. "Yeah."

"Well, I found his kidneys are normal to large. Enlarged kidneys may be 
painful when palpated as pain receptors in the capsule of the kidney are 
getting stretched as the kidney enlarges."

"Was that due to urine retention?"

"Maybe. Maybe not." said Brackett. "I'll be honest with you when I say
that I'm unwilling to do any contrast studies of Vince's kidneys by IVP to
pinpoint more details."

"Why not?" asked Gage. 

"Ironically, the contrast agent can be a nephrotoxin." Kel told them.

Gage sighed in disappointment and rubbed his face in frustration.

Kel was eager to share other options.
"That IVP renal study isn't necessary to make a diagnosis 
of ARF . The cause of it can be found from renal biopsy."

"More surgery?" Johnny asked.

"No." Brackett promised. "Renal biopsy can be performed "blindly" 
through the skin or a micro-incision using ultrasound guidance, via a 
laparotomy or via laparoscopy. There are some risks associated with this,
include bleeding as uremic patients have abnormal platelet function because
their elevated calcium levels have a tendency to make their platelet proteins
less sticky or aggregable."

"So there's hemorrhaging risk." Roy whispered.

Brackett held up his hand to calm DeSoto.
"A fine needle aspirate performed in an awake unanesthetized patient
can sometimes yield prognostic information without the need to perform 
a biopsy." Kel told him. "And that's gonna be my recommendation to Joe."

Roy and Johnny were not happy, bordering on fearfulness.

Brackett did his best to reassure them. "We'll do everything in our power
to make Vince more comfortable while he weathers this crisis. Monitoring 
may include getting central venous pressures, a PCV/TP, and 
very close urine volume checks."

Johnny shifted on his chair, growing uncomfortable. "So he's gonna be
sick for a while, huh?"

Brackett was gentle while he smiled. "Depending upon the degree of renal 
damage, his kidneys may repair themselves. The goal of treatment is to sustain 
life while the pathologic process in the kidneys heals itself."

They all jumped when the lab phone rang.

Brackett picked it up swiftly. He listened for a few seconds, but then his
face turned red. "But that's not right, Dixie! I'm looking at all his symptoms
and his EKG strip right now. He's definitely acutely hypercalcemic. I don't 
care what you tell them just tell them I want them to run it again! There is
no way in H*ll Vince's serum level is 9 mg/dL. They must have missed something
and missed it big time!"

Roy and Johnny rose in concern before they reconsidered and made their
way back to Vince's bed to fuss with his blankets and unnecessary vitals signs
checking.

Brackett's voice suddenly broke off when he started thinking. "Wait a minute.
Only 1-2% of total body calcium is in the exchangeable form in circulation, 
and the rest forms part of the skeleton. And of that percentage,  the ionized
form calcium binds to urine albumin and only the unbound calcium is 
biologically active. Dixie,. my G*d. That's it. The serum level must be adjusted 
for his abnormal albumin levels. Let me call Joe fast and I'll call you right
back.." he said eagerly.

Kel hung up the phone and immediately dialed the main ER. "Put me through
to Dr. Early. Stat." he snapped into the receiver. That student nurse hastily
complied. 

Roy and Johnny heard Kel's next words easily despite the quiet room
and the hiss of the ventilator."Joe refresh my memory. Serum calcium to
correct for albumin levels, what's the conversion factor?  Uh, huh.. uh huh.
Joe, thanks. You probably just saved Vince's life with that recollection..
How's he doing? He's doing fine. ......Now." he said. "Gotta go." and Dr.
Brackett was soon on the phone with Dixie in the lab again. "Dixie.
Tell them they don't have to send someone up for more bloodwork. Tell
them this word for word, verbatim. For every 1-g/dL drop in serum albumin 
below 4 g/dL, measured serum calcium decreases by 0.8 mg/dL. Therefore, 
to correct for an albumin level of less than 4 g/dL, one should add 0.8 to the 
measured value of calcium for each 1-g/dL decrease in albumin. Tell those
lame brains down there that without this correction, an abnormally high serum 
calcium level may appear to be normal... Uh, huh. You got it. Tell them to
spread that protocol department wide and I want it done today! So what's his
level sitting at? Doesn't matter if it's the old results, I'll figure it out. Ok...
Got it." But then Brackett cocked his head as he listened to something else
she told him and soon, he began to smile. "You bet. Thanks, Dix. Yes, I'll tell
them. Right away."

"What, doc?" Gage finally asked as they rejoined him.

"Vince's Ca does show that he's in a life threatening hypercalcemic crisis."

"What are his levels at?" Roy asked.
 
"15 mg/dL or  3.5-4 mmol/L." Kel reported.

Gage made a face of dismay but Brackett quickly reassured after snapping 
out an order to the orderlies. "Boys, start massaging his arms and legs. Get
his blood moving. His current pathophysiology is indicating that his
immobilization will aggravate his hypercalcemia." Then he turned back to
Roy and Johnny. "Guys, it's all good news. His serum alkaline phosphatase
is coming back low. That means he has a vitamin D excess in his blood."

"What?" Johnny exclaimed. "Then no cancer?"

"Absolutely not." Brackett beamed. "It's either a nephrotoxin ingested or it's
sarcoidosis which can be treated effectively for life with mild doses of
prednisone to keep plasma calcium levels down by reducing intestinal 
Ca absorption.  All he has to do in that case, is watch his dairy intake
and how much time he spends in the sun to restrict Vitamin D."

"And if it's not sarcoidosis?" DeSoto asked, beginning to grin.

"Then it's strictly chemical and there isn't a forensics investigator born in
my department who couldn't find a poison on one of my patients. I'll give
Shears a call right now to come get external scrapings and hair samples
to take with her, a.s.a.p."

"Well, how much danger is Vince in until that mystery substance's found?"
Gage asked.

"Not much." grinned Brackett. "We've already begun aggressive treatment.
And I hear dialysis coming down the hall right now to hook him up. The only
real risk I'm finding now is that Howard's uremia is interfering with the function
of his white blood cells which are low. That may predispose Vince into
getting.... a cold."

"A cold?  That's it?" Johnny said, gape mouthed with relief.

"That's all." Kel replied.  "The evidence now pointing towards that prognosis,
is overwhelming." bowed Brackett genteelly. "So get out of here
and go get some rest. You deserve it, you two. Nice work. I'm sure Vince'll
be more than grateful to the both of you for getting to him so fast."

"I'm sure he will be." Roy laughed, gathering up their medical gear from
the spot on the floor he had kicked it towards. "Gee, thanks doc, for letting
us stick around."

"No problem. That's what friends are for. See you two later on when we figure out
what that chemical was."

"Bye." said the two as they left the treatment room and the orderly watching Vince.

They got into the squad, and sat heavily, mulling over what could have been.

Then Johnny said....

-------------------------------------------

Photos:  None.

**************************************************
From: "Patti" <pattik1@hotmail.com> 
Date: Thu Feb 22, 2007 7:32 pm 
Subject: Security Blankets.. 

"Is it just me? Or are you counting Vince's lucky stars,too?"
Gage said, putting on his seat belt thoughtfully.

"I'm definitely acknowledging every spark up there. Howard 
was d*mn*d lucky that we got there when we did. He wasn't 
that far away from cardiac arrest a couple of minutes ago. Not
with that kind of junctional rhythm." Roy said, still sitting there,
not really seeing the steering wheel he had twisted to pointing 
straight ahead under his palms. He started up the squad's 
ignition. "Are you gonna call the police station? Or do you 
want me to do it?"

"How about we wait. Vince's barely out of the woods and I for
one wanna be able to tell them what it is that's making him sick.
Don't you?"

"Yeah." DeSoto said. "I guess Dixie'll be fine for fielding that first
phone call. We can always use the excuse that we were ...busy
on another run or something... and got tied up."

Gage didn't say anything, still very cowed by what he had learned
from both his partner and medical director. "You know, I was way
off on what I was guessing to be Vince's problem." he finally said
as Roy pulled them away from the wall and turned right under 
Rampart's skyway, heading for the boulevard.

DeSoto looked at him, paying attention closely. "Just what were
you thinking it was?"

"Hypoglycemia from previously undiagnosed diabetes.." Johnny
answered, pulling some dead skin off of his calloused hands.

DeSoto just smiled.
"Believe it or not, that was my first guess, too. I wasn't clued in
on what was bothering him with any great certainty either until I 
found that abdominal guarding and moderate pain on palpation.
His reactions were....well, a little off, ...like someone with a palsy."

"L.A., Squad 51. We're available...."
Gage nodded, still holding the Converta-Com's receiver mic in
his hands. "That was the calcium effecting his mental state."

##Squad 51. *spap* ## replied L.A.

"And his muscles." DeSoto said thoughtfully. "And I thought I had seen
everything that could possibly go wrong with a man Vince's age."

Johnny looked up, surprised by the admission. "But you finally guessed
it right, Roy, despite not knowing for sure. If I had been in your shoes, 
I would have still missed it entirely. Even with Vince lying right there
directly in front of me." he insisted.

"Yeah, well that hardly makes me feel any better, because one day,
maybe because of fatigue or complacency, we're both gonna guess 
wrong about a patient and they might even die for it."

Gage frowned in shock when he realized that real danger, but then
he got righteously angry. "Oh, yeah? So let's fight it then. I'm already
dead set on fixing that very problem with my new invention idea."

"How's it coming?" DeSoto said, finally relaxing as he rounded the final
curve that led to the straight away before their station's drive.

"I've only got to decide where to park it in everybody's house. You know,
they've got to put it where paramedics and law enforcement and other 
rescue personnel will find it."

"Find what?"

Gage looked at him in irritation. "I can't tell ya, not yet. It's gotta stay
a surprise. I'll tell ya everything once it's in the chief's beefy little hands, or
somebody just might run away with my idea themselves."

DeSoto chuckled. "What's the matter? Don't you trust me?"

Gage looked at him. "I trust ya. I trust ya. It's just that....well...I- I."

"Never mind, you don't have to explain yourself to me, Johnny. I
understand completely. You just don't have a very trusting nature, that's all.
And all of us guys, know it." he said, grinning broadly. He waggled his
bronze eyebrows for effect after he finished speaking.

Johnny's mouth flopped wide open and he launched into the granddaddy
of all scathing self-lectures right into Roy's amused, and listening... ear.

--------------------------------------------------------------------------- 

Cap, Stoker, and Marco were all standing around the stove, sipping
late afternoon coffee while they watched Chet handle a call from the
public that wasn't an emergency.  In fact, it was the third call from
the same old lady that day.

"Ma'am.. Can you hear me all right now?" shouted Chet into the phone
receiver from where it hung on the wall. "If your little Trixie's back inside
the house and gets out and climbs the tree again, you can always call
us back. Ok? Here's our number.. It's (310) 830-3170. Got that? Ok,
now repeat it back to me.....Yeah,,   yeah.. uh, no the last two numbers
are seven zero.. Say it again. Uh,,, no that's not it either. Shall I tell you
the number again? No ma'am.. I'm not getting short with you.. I'm just
trying to help you be able contact us again more easily.. Yes, ma'am. 
.....Yes, ma'am. I am aware of the fact that your tax paying dollars goes
for part of my salary. Yes, ma'am. Tell you what, if your cat ditches you
again for the wild blue yonder, try calling the operator and she'll get a
hold of us.. Lickety split, I guarantee it." and he hung up quickly.

Roy and Johnny walked into the kitchen just in time to see Chet making
a beeline for the chair farthest away from the phone where he happily
picked up his deck of solitaire cards again.

"What's his problem?" Gage asked.

"Too much public adoration.." Stoker replied.

Johnny snorted. "Hughh. Don't tell me. Another stuck cat call."

"You got it." Hank replied. "So how did your call go? You two looked
bushed."

Roy sat down in Cap's recliner and he found he suddenly didn't care 
that he hadn't asked Hank's permission to use it in his weariness. 
"Guys, we've got some hard news. It was Vince and he was in a bad 
way after fainting at work."

"Is he all right?" Cap asked, moving to sit on the arm of Roy's
chair to offer him his glass of not yet touched lemonade.

Roy took it gratefully, gulping it down. Shivering a little, he let 
Johnny answer him.

Gage caught Roy's look and he spoke up quietly.
"He's fine, Cap. He had an electrolyte imbalance and just a little
breathing trouble that Brackett cleared up fast." Johnny insisted.

Chet was curious, but worried a bit, as he sat up a little straighter.
"Did Vince overwork today or something to get himself sun sick? 
He is outside a lot."

"No, Dr. Brackett said that it was some kind of chemical working on
him that did it." Johnny told him.

"That's strange." said Cap. "I wonder what he got into." he wondered,
thinking about what kinds of chemicals could be around a police
station that might be unknowingly toxic. 

Marco spoke up. "Maybe we should call him to see how he's doing."

Gage made a face, and reluctantly held up a hand, looking guilty.
"Ah.. Ya can't. Not yet."

"Why not?" Kelly asked. "I thought you two just got done saying
that he was okay, Gage."

"You can't call just yet.. because he's....still intubated.." said 
Johnny reluctantly, hiding behind Henry's bulk for security.

The gang's reaction, was harsh.

"What?! Johnny, that's not what I call fine. That's-that's FAR 
from being just fine in my book." said Marco, beginning to grow 
sharp from where he leaned against a TV chair.

Kelly matched his ire. "Yeah, why'd you both just lie to all of us? He's 
a good friend of ours. And yours, too, so I thought."

"I didn't lie, guys. I-I told you the truth. Listen to me. Listen to us..
He's.. not.. gonna.. die.." Johnny said with careful enunciation.

An interval of silence fell like heavy bricks between them.
 
Then Roy and Johnny winced at the smack of a large hand on
the table top. "Being intubated IS half dead, Gage. I read THAT in 
the paramedic's manual!" glared Cap.

Johnny looked up, cowed. "Oh, really? Heh.." he laughed weakily.
"We..we..uh, didn't know that ya had. Heh.." he frowned lopsidedly.
"Sorry. But we were led to believe that things are gonna be okay.
Eventually.." he said, holding up both hands in surrender.

Roy rescued his partner. "Cap. Dr. Brackett wasn't worried. Not even in
the slightest. And if we both seem tired it's because Johnny and I 
received quite an earful at the hospital while Vince was getting diagnosed. 
Doctors seem to like to talk from an entirely different plain of existence. 
It gets a little too much to handle sometimes."

Johnny snorted. "And how.. But they do nice work, though. He sure saved
Howard's n-- uh, rear." he said, amending himself. He snatched up Roy's
glass in a toast in Howard's honor. "So here's to Rampart, huh? Another 
save in the can..." he said quickly and swallowed the juice down in two gulps.

Grumbling, the rest of the guys finally turned away and got back to what
they were doing.

Roy came over and sat shoulder to shoulder with Johnny for some moral
support. "That went well. Feel any better?" he whispered, helping Gage
out as the young paramedic scrubbed Henry's coat vigorously to distract
himself.

"Yeah, once the lions calmed down enough to let us feed them." Gage
admitted, still irked as he patted Henry's side loudly to burn off a little
aggression. Henry just yawned, still entirely happy with the world.

Roy took in a deep breath, and sighed when he felt the eyes of the
others finally turn away. "Aren't you glad we decided we weren't gonna be 
the ones to call the police station about Vince?" DeSoto asked, pouring 
Johnny another glass of lemonade.

"Yeah..." he replied. "Whole heartedly." Gage replied in relief as he
reached for an apple from the fruit bowl.

The tones went off, making no one else jump but Station 51's two paramedics..

It was an all-call. A big one.

---------------------------------------------------

Photos: None.

**************************************************
Date: Fri, 23 Feb 2007 14:55:21 -0000 
Subject: [EmergencyTheaterLive] Into the Hot Zone 
From: "Robert Gutheim" <rguthei1@twcny.rr.com>

##Station 51, Truck 127, Station 8, Station 36, Squad 110... 
Industrial fire at Heating Manufacturers. 510 Winthrop St. 
5-1-0 Winthrop St. Cross street Kincaid. Time out : 16:00.##

"Station 51, 10-4, KMG-365." said Hank.

The squad followed the engine out of the garage as they headed 
for the large three story plant where household heating furnaces were 
assembled. Soon, they were there.

Captain Stanley went up to the plant manager. 
"Did you make sure everyone made it out safely?" Cap asked him. 

Before the man could answer, another man with a dark skin tone jogged 
towards them. "Two of my guys are missing, boss. I think they were over 
by the area where we test units to make sure they work.."

The plant manager spoke up. "Exactly where, Steve?"

"Uh... over there..." he panicked. "..B-Before they are palleted 
and crated." the terrified guy reported.

"Oh, you mean inside the quality control area. Is that right?" the manager 
asked.

"Yeah..." Steve stammered. "I can show you exactly where." he offered, 
starting to turn back towards the burning building in a run. 

Cap stopped him firmly by gripping his arm. "Ah.. no. We'll find it. Your job 
right now, is to keep yourself and the people you got out, safe.  Just point
us to the right building."

Steve did so, and he coughed as a curl of black, acrid smoke blew into
his face.

"Now, get everybody you have moved, upwind, before you all get sick." 
Hank told the two workers.

They hastened to do it.

Cap glanced around and saw Gage and DeSoto by the squad. 
And he noticed the squad from 110, pulling up. "Roy! John!..." 
Cap hollered. When they looked up, he swept a gesture
at the road. Nodding with satisfaction, he watched his two paramedics
run over to Wheeler and Kirk to fill them in on the plant's general layout
as all four of them rejoined Cap for their working orders.

"We've got two victims still in there. Over in a unit test area. Guys, my
men are going to tank up to see if they can find them first." Cap instructed 
the two newcomers. "You're gonna be their relief team if they can't do 
that in five minutes."

"Okay.." said both firemen from 110's.

When Cap had left to oversee the rest of the firefight, Johnny
made a face. "I hate calls like this." Gage muttered as the two
of them went to put on their turnout coats and scba bottles.

Roy didn't say anything. He didn't have to.

"Gage, DeSoto, we'll get things set up for you." Wheeler offered,
throwing open their squad's medical gear doors. His partner, Kirk
had already reached inside the truck for a couple of resuscitator 
apparatuses.

"Go ahead, Tom, Kirk. Thanks." Roy said as he pulled on his gloves.

As they neared the fire, Johnny was introspective. "I'm glad 
they didn't send us 16's. I'm not sure I could've handled dealing 
with Brice and Bellingham in a life or death situation." Gage muttered. 

"Why? Don't you trust them?" DeSoto quipped. "You told me an hour
ago that you didn't trust me. What makes them so different?" he grinned.

"I can live with all your faults. I'm not so sure I can work with theirs."
Johnny said honestly through his mask.

"Everyone's a critic.." DeSoto mumbled as he felt around a door,
looking for a way inside.

-----------------------------------------------------------------

Photos: None.

**************************************************
From: ------------Tandem Post------------------- 
  by Fan Writer Robert Gutheim <rguthei1@twcny.rr.com> 
  and Patti ETL Host USA <theaterhost@voyagerliveaction.com> 
  via a live Yahoo Instant Messenger Chat Window. 
Date: Tue Feb 27, 2007 7:47 pm 
Subject: Four Against One 


Once inside,  they began searching for the quality control area while a couple
firefighters from Station 8 followed close in behind them with a hose, spraying
water onto any looming flames they encountered.

"Careful of that hot spot up there!" said 8's anchor as Roy and Johnny started
beelining for the first set of heat warping doors they could see.

Roy DeSoto jerked aside as a rafter from the roof, fully ablaze, fell and
bounced onto the concrete next to him. "Thanks.." he said as a rich wash of
fanning spray cooled him off. "We're gonna try for the main offices first."

"Sounds like a plan." said the fireman.

As they searched the office areas, they marked all doors with chalk marks to
show others coming later which rooms had proven empty, and before long, they
found themselves in the main plant area. The two air bottled paramedics
continued, gasping with their efforts, as they carefully dodged falling 
machinery and bits of burning plastic.

DeSoto startled when a glove touched him.
"Roy, how long have we been looking for them?" Gage asked him.

Roy studied his steamed up watch. His voice muffled, he replied.
"About six minutes. Let's say we search for three more before
we retreat to let Wheeler and Kirk have a go."

"Ok,..Fine by me. I'm not getting that hot or tired yet." Johnny said,
breathing heavily. He pulled out an axe. "I'm gonna go try that door
over there. Something tells me that leads to the breakroom. I promise
I'll stay within eyesight.."

Roy turned back to see the direction Johnny had indicated, and nodded,
saying."Hopefully, we'll find them and get out of here." he said, pulling
up his turnout's collar a little higher to deflect more heat from the back
of his neck.

"Agreed." Gage said as he checked the room after a blow from his axe
exposed it. It was empty.

They continued on for half a minute more, before finding an area that looked
like an assembly line. As they were pacing along the line, Gage started to hear
the warning hooter that they were running low on air.

"Hey, Roy?" Johnny said. "We gotta head back. I'm on the last minute of---"

"Over here!" DeSoto shouted, sweeping his jacketted arm out towards Johnny.
"I see em. Both are unconscious. Come on, we still have time to lug them out."

"Where are they?!" Gage hollered, getting irritated as he shut off his regulator
timer.  Right about then, the HT in his pocket crackled. It was Cap. ##Time's
up. Now trade off! And that's an order!## Stanley told them over the radio.

"Squad 51 to HT 51. We just found them, Cap, so soon as we pick them up,
we'll be on our way." Gage replied over the HT.

##Make it fast. The southern exposure's beginning to sag. The roof's going!##

"On our way, Cap." said Roy into his radio. DeSoto gasped and pulled off a
glove, feeling the first man's neck where he lay sprawled face down under a tabletop.
He kicked it aside. "He's alive." he said. Pausing only a few seconds, he placed
both hands on either side of the man's ribcage to feel for signs of
breathing."He's okay for now. Yours?"

"The same." gasped Gage, stepping onto his man's shoe toes as he stood
his victim up against a wall to throw him over his shoulder to nestle in between
his air bottle cylinder and his back. "Although neither one of them will stay
that way for long. Air's getting real bad in here..... Bad fire..*choke* Bad.." 
Johnny coughed, groaning under the weight of his not-so-small plant worker. 
"Let's backtrack the way we came. It's.....still the shortest way outta ..." He 
never completed his sentence when the path in front of them...disappeared..
 
The roar of noise ended in the deep murkiness as a smoke bank cleared.
Roy looked over it to see better.  A large section of the ceiling above had
come down in a hail.. blocking their path. Roy re-grabbed his radio.
"Squad 51 to HT 51. We're cut off from the route we followed coming in,
should we try and find an alternate route or not?"

----------------------------------------------------------------------------------

::Not good. ::Hank thought as he keyed the mic to reply. "No, stay
right where you are. It'll be faster if we cut through, to you. Believe
it or not, you're now in the safest place in the whole building. Just
get your victims to fresher air and hang tight!"

----------------------------------------------------------------------------------

"Hang tight, he says." grumbled Gage. "Now just what the h*ll are the
four of us gonna breathe?"

"We're gonna have to get a little creative. Don't firefighters always think
on their feet?" Roy said, leading the way back into the breakroom.

"Yeah.." gasped Johnny. "When they're still standing on them."

"This has got to be the worst,... when the paramedics need rescuing."
Roy said as he beat a hasty retreat away from the fire with his heavy 
burden.

"I'm not sure which is worse, a rescue like this, or the time I was bit by that
rattlesnake." Gage groaned, running away just as fast, being careful not
to smack his victim's head on catwalk railings and obstacles as he went.

"At least for that rattlesnake, you were unconscious.." DeSoto said with
a suffering tone. He was growing more and more winded.

Johnny was equally beginning to smother and it showed.
"If anything, I'm probably lucky I survived it. Did you think it was easy when
I was half towards that condition, to get an I.V. started solo?" Gage growled.

"That I.V., wasn't what cured you." Roy told him with a wry look.

"Funny man. Give credit where credit's due. I wanna live long enough to 
exact a revenge against that old snake with the biggest CO2 extinguisher I 
can get, later on this summer. Just how am I gonna do that?" Johnny asked.

Roy countered, shouldering the axe ripped and chalked break room
door open again. He hefted his man onto a lunch table and lowered his victim's
head down as he pushed him off, cushioning it until he was safely onto his side.
"I haven't figured that part out yet..*cough* Gimme time."

Gage did the same move, kicking the door shut behind them to block off
the heat of the flames that were following them. He pulled off his useless
mask. But then, his eyes spotted a nearby utility room. He left his unconscious
man with his head tilted back over a stack of books."I know... I'll just bet 
there's a compressed air supply in this hose here they probably to clean all of 
these sorters. Tanked air, Roy. Stuff to breathe." Johnny said, snatching at 
one hanging from the smoking ceiling inside the alcove. He tested it
with a firm squeeze on its hand triggered nozzle. Air gushed out.

"Eoooww..." DeSoto said, making a face.

"Better oil stinking air than nothing. We may have to breathe it into THEM
fairly soon." Johnny said, returning to place a hand on his victim's gasping 
stomach.

"You can try that first.." Roy pointed as he pulled off his now going dead mask 
with some relief.  "That way, if you die, I'll only have three lives to save, instead 
of four." DeSoto said, listening by the mouth of his victim carefully. He
straightened up when he was assured of effective breathing and he drew
out his HT radio from his pocket to set on the table.

"You know, Roy, you're all heart." Gage said as he snatched up the handy
talkie. "Squad 51 to HT 51.  We've taken shelter inside a breakroom and 
we think we've found a temporary air supply." He called over the radio to 
update Cap as to their location.

##10-4. Once we're in, we'll follow your lifelines.##

-----------------------------------------------------------------

Photos: None.

***************************************************
From: "Patti" <pattik1@hotmail.com> 
Date: Wed Feb 28, 2007 1:23 pm 
Subject: Just like MacGyver-  

Johnny's victim started coughing, purposefully.
Both firemen knelt down by the table and opened
his soot stained business shirt to see his chest
a little better.  "Hey,,.." said Roy."Can you hear me?"
he said as he pulled the books out from under 
the man's shoulders so he'd be more comfortable.

The worker awoke, completely panic stricken.
"F--*cough*..Fire! ..Mike,..we've...we've got to get out!"
he choked, trying to sit up.

Roy and Johnny held his shoulders.. "Easy now, we've
got him. We've got both of you out of the fire. So relax!"
said Gage. "We're somewhere safe for the moment."

The worker gripped his chest as he became more
and more alert and more aware of his shortness of breath from
smoke inhalation. "..*Gasp.* W-What? *cough*..Oh, you're
f-firemen.." he said, breathing fast and hard.

"That's right, now how are you feeling?" DeSoto asked him,
taking his pulse at his wrist for its count. It was rapid but growing
stronger. "Do you have any prior medical conditions that we 
should be concerned about here, any previous heart problems
working on ya?" he asked.

"No...uh,..no...Nothing at ....all like.....that." he gasped. "But...I 
can't br----" 

"That's because you're hyperventilating a little. Try and slow your
breathing rate down." Johnny encouraged. "You're doing it too fast."

"I....I.....can't." panted the man, leaning heavily on Roy's front.

Johnny sighed, thought for a few seconds, then he pulled up
his scba head harness from where it was dangling around his
waist. "Ok, ok... Here, use my air mask. It'll help protect your lungs
from all this smoke." Gage said, helping the man put it on.

Roy's eyes quirked into light humor when he realized that Johnny's 
gear actually had no more air flow going into it. ::Huh, that'll calm the
guy down. He'll be breathing in his own carbon dioxide inside of that
mask and it should work for us better than a paper bag.:: he smiled. 
He hid his expression quickly before the man noticed their exchanging 
amused glances.

Johnny didn't even bat an eye. He just carried things to the next step.
"There, let me know as soon as you're feeling better, and I'll take
it off. Tell me especially when all that hand and mouth tingling goes 
away, ok?"

"S-Sure..Thanks."
The mask fitted man nodded..his hands twitching in stress where
they gripped Johnny's scba straps tightly.

Gage rolled his eyes and turned to Roy. "Come on, let's get
their table pushed against that utility room's door frame so we're
nearer to that hose's air supply."

Grunting, Roy and Johnny did so, collectively shoving the long
lunch table where their two victims were lying, across the breakroom 
to its far end where the light of the small access room lit up the 
carpetting. At best, the flourescent glow was muted from smoke 
that was slowly building around their heads.

DeSoto coughed. "I'll go plug up the bottom of the breakroom's
door with my jacket." he said pulling off his air bottle to set
at Johnny's feet. "Too much smoke's coming in."  he said.
Roy emptied his pockets. He set out an oral airway kit that
contained eight sizes of C-shaped oropharyngeals and
shoved the clear plastic case of Hudsons towards Johnny.

Johnny opened the small box and took one out to size
against their unconscious man's jawline. He placed his first
guess on his skin in a line from the corner of the man's mouth 
to the bottom of his earlobe.  "He's a 9, Roy. I'm using it." 
he said to his partner as he slipped the oral in over their second 
victim's tongue after crossing fingering his mouth open with a
thumb and index finger.

"Ok.. Watch his pulse, it's fluctuating. Might be an early M.I. working.
 He's got that kind of grayish color."

Johnny rechecked the still man's carotid and found Roy's irregular 
beat. He nodded at the finding and looked up at DeSoto again.
"Wet your turnout while you're doing that, in the janitor's sink over 
there, Roy. Your jacket'll become a better filter if it's soaked a little
more." suggested Johnny as he put Roy's abandoned mask onto the 
second man's limp face. He picked up the air hose lying on the floor 
after retrieving a snack bag's twist tie from a nearby garbage can and
started working at once. Gage squeezed the hose's hand trigger 
until its compressed air was flowing lightly and then tied the bar against 
the nozzle head so that it wouldn't turn off when he let it go. Then
he shoved his improvised air supply source between the man's chin  
and the fire mask so that its nozzle continued injecting its vigorous
air stream inside the scba's strapped down faceplate. He left the 
rest of the ceiling attached air hose lying coiled on top on the man's 
bared chest so it wouldn't get bumped.  "I've got this guy going on 
the air first. The rest of us, can wait."  he said.  

Gage got up and paced back out into the breakroom where Roy was
patrolling the perimeter, sealing up smoke leaks. "Are you getting
hungry? I know I am.."

DeSoto shrugged. "A little. Are you thinking what I'm thinking?"
said the blond haired paramedic.

"Yep." said Gage and he saundered over to a vending machine
full of candy bars and chips. Taking out his jacket's halligan tool,
he smashed the glass covering the food, and helped himself.
"What do you want, Roy? A soda?

"No. I'm not thirsty yet. How about a candy bar? Anything but 
coconut.."

Johnny swept away the glass landing at his feet with a heel
and then he reached into the machine with a gloved hand, 
gathering what he wanted. "Ok, I claim dibs on these.." he said 
holding up a bag of Cheetohs. "Gee, Roy. It's a shame all this heat 
popped that machine open like that. All this food's just gonna go
to waste." he remarked.

"Not wasted. It's being put to good use helping a couple of 
firemen and their fire victims." DeSoto quipped.

Both the paramedics returned back to their patients.

A few minutes later, and finally excess oxygen cured, the first man 
tore off Johnny's scba mask dramatically. "Oh,,, that's too stuffy..." 
he complained, swinging his legs over the side of the table as he sat 
up to pat down feel all of his aches and bruises.

"You're done." Johnny said to him. "How are you feeling now?" he
asked the man, still casually chewing on a handful of cheese powdered
kernels.

The man sucked in a chest crackling breath, held it, and then slowly
let it out experimentally. "Wow, my pain's gone and so's the feeling
like I was suffocating. That's amazing."

"Good. Air bottles are handy." remarked Roy.

The man looked at the snack Johnny was eating and made a face. 
"How can you be eating at at time like this?" he glared. "We're all 
trapped and dying in a fire here like...like mice in a burning barn.." he 
insisted. 

"We are?" said Johnny, taking in a deep breath. "Roy, do you feeling
like you're on the brink of death's door?"

Roy grinned, playing along with Johnny's nonchalant paramedic psychology
game. "Not particularly. I'm very comfortable, thanks for asking."

"Good. Cause so am I. And mister, you're feeling okay, too, right along
with us, because we've effectively cured you of your sudden panicky 
breathing attack." Gage told him.

"You did?" The man sputtered with indignation a few times, utterly speechless.

"Yep." said Johnny, drumming musically on the table top with
a couple of bored fingers, humming absently for effect.

DeSoto offered a box of Dots to the man. "Here. Eat this sugar. It'll
control all your shakes until we can get a D5W I.V. going on ya."

The man gaped at the mention of future medical treatment coming
from the two whom he considered as just a couple of county firemen. 
He blinked in confusion, trying to remember why that was really all right
to be hearing that kind of thing, but the new terminology completely
escaped him.

"We're both paramedics, yes." Johnny clarified. "It's ok.. This won't bite ya. 
It's just some candy." Johnny insisted. "If you don't want any, that's fine, 
we'll eat it all." he said, effecting a fake air of nonchalance as he kicked back 
on the rear legs of the chair he was sitting in near the worker's friend.

Their calming tricks worked, and the man wilted out of the last of his 
potentially dangerous overreaction. He gingerly took the box of sweets and 
without hesitation, he finally tore it open. "I lose my d*mned quarters inside 
that machine all the time. Guess stealing this now, won't hurt anything."

"That's what fire insurance is for. What's your name?" said Roy, throwing
away his candy wrapper into a waste basket near the door of the utility room.

"It's Sean. That's Mike Odegard, my supervisor."

"Tell me something. Has Mike been sick recently?" Roy asked. "Does he 
ever talk to you about anything health related? Especially anything that
might have been bugging him lately."

"Yeah,, he talked about a few things." admitted Sean, the plant worker, as he 
popped a handful of Dots into his mouth. He picked out a soot cinder from in 
between his teeth with a fingernail as he chewed and wiped it off against his 
torn pants. "For starters, Mike's a diabetic. And he's got high blood pressure. 
He spoke to me once, that on somedays, he can't feel his feet and lower legs
while he's walking the line."

"Sounds like those might be TIA symptoms, Roy." said Johnny, glancing at 
DeSoto. He leaned over, drawing out his penlight to look at Mike's eyes. "Huh. 
Pupils are equal and reactive. No signs of stroke today despite being exposed
to the fire."

Roy turned back to Sean while Johnny leaned down to get a closer listen
at Mike's chest for lung sounds by ear. "Can you tell us anything else about
his medical history? I didn't find a wallet on him anywhere."

Sean sighed. "We keep those in our lockers when we're on the floor. Yeah,
Mike told me a lot of things. He's scared for himself about dying, you know what I 
mean? Everyday, he asks the plant EMT if all the medical gear's ready or
not and he always tells him that his nitro's still inside his right front pocket."

"He does? Sweet..." he celebrated.
Moving, Gage reached into Mike's pants and pulled out the brown bottle.
"Thanks. This'll help out a whole ton.." he said, unscrewing the cap after
making sure it was the man's name on the label with a current date. He
doubled checked to see where the man's pressure was sitting at, by
feeling around until he got a positive palpation of a wrist pulse. "Roy, I'm
using one sublingual. He's over 90 systolic. Mark down the time." he said.

Roy pulled out his pen from his uniform pocket and wrote 'NTG 16:33 x1'
on the man's shoulder on his skin like a triage notation. "Got it." Then
he regripped the man's carotid to monitor any changes. "What does he 
sound like, Johnny?"

"Mild rhonci. Nothing big. And no burns anywhere." reported Gage
as he slid the pill into the man's mouth to watch it dissolve.

Roy began to smile.
"All right. Pulse's settling now, but he's still got arrythmias.*cough*cough*"

Gage raised his eyebrows. "It's time to swap the air. Roy, you're next, 
since you've already started coughing." he said, freeing the air hose up.
"Here. Suck on this a while." 

Roy took the flowing nozzle and used it to clean out his chest after
he put the end of it into his mouth. It took a few tries to keep his
cheeks from puffing out, but it worked. Then he looked up. "So 
I'm the guinea pig in this little ventilation experiment here, eh?"

"Yep. Your chest's smokier." Gage said no nonsense. "Keep at it. I'll 
take my turn next, then let's give it to Sean here. Then it's back to Mike's
use for a minute or so. We'll do it in that order over and over 
again until we get all of our everloving butts finally rescued and out 
of this ignited tinder box."

Sean chuckled hoarsely. "So the fire isn't that bad yet?"

"Oh, it is. Just not where we're holed up. Part of the roof came
down out there and cleared away the worst of the flames just outside
this room." DeSoto told him.

"So we're lucky then, huh?" Sean asked with worry, holding onto
his friend's head protectively.

"Extremely. The best case scenario for entrapment inside a two story
warehouse." Gage said, standing up. "Say, who wants some soda pop?
I still got my axe with me." he said, hefting it up meaningfully.

----------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Photos:  None.

**************************************************
From: "Patti" <pattik1@hotmail.com> 
Date: Thu Mar 1, 2007 11:10 am 
Subject: The Thousandth Man...  

Twenty minutes later, the handy talkies in both Roy
and Johnny's pockets sounded off.

##Engine 51 to HT 51. Pick up your victims and
start heading for the southeast corner. The fire in
that end of the building has been knocked down.
One of 110's paramedics are still standing by..## reported 
Cap firmly.

Johnny startled. ::One of 110's paramedics? What happened
to the other one?:: he thought in alarm. But then there was
no time for wondering. Gage turned to his patient.
"Ok, Sean,..there's our cue. How's your chest feeling?"
Gage asked. "Is it still getting tight?"

The young man nodded. Most of his humorous mood had
been scorched away. He was beginning to look sicker. For
real. "L-Like I've been chain smoking rubber bands.*choke*"
the man said, picking his head up off the lunch table.

"Yeah, well, we'll get you'll both on plenty of oxygen once
we're outta here and that'll start getting rid of that feeling in you
real fast." Gage said. "Do you think you can manage on your 
own or do you want me to help you?" Johnny said, putting his
helmet back on.  He paused by the breakroom door,
feeling around its edges for flaring heat before he even
attempted to crack it open to peer out.

"I..I'll ..I can walk, mister. You guys got your hands full... with 
Mike over there." the worker said empathetically. "Which way....
are we..... going?" he gasped miserably.

"That way." pointed Roy, putting on his turnout. He picked up
Mike and perched him onto his back while Johnny hefted up
both the squad's drained scba air bottles. "Let one of us go on 
ahead of you, Sean.  We know what to watch out for in terms of 
risks. There could be downed power lines, weaknesses in the 
floor catwalks..."

"Oh, I get the picture. Serious expertise in navigating *cough*
death traps." Sean replied. "Ok, lead the way. But hurry,..I-I'm
feeling kinda..... dizzy again.."

Roy looked at him sharply, eyeing up his color. It was pale 
but his breathing wasn't fast like it had been before. "That's
ok. Maybe a little smoke inhalation. You can sleep all you want
once we're out of here and safe. Firefighters are waiting  
to treat you outside those windows. Can you hold on a 
few minutes more?"

"I.....think so. I..." Sean's eyes started to close.

Roy lifted his helmeted head. "Johnny, get behind him. He's 
close to blacking out." DeSoto said.

Gage grabbed Sean's elbow. "Just a little farther. Here, wear my
helmet. There are sparks still falling from the ceiling." he said.

Along the way, Johnny and Roy were forced to use an emergency
fire hose recessed into a stairwell landing to get to the air open
side of the warehouse. Kicking aside the discharged hose, they
quickly moved on.

DeSoto got on his radio. "Cap, one unconscious, probable cardiac.
One downward S.I. We're *gasp* almost to that exterior wall of 
yours. Smash the glass so we can triangulate.."

##10-4, pal. Stand by. I'll have them pop open a window near you.##
said Stanley. ##Battalion says there's no explosion risk.##

Gage sighed in relief, wiping his sooty face. ::Thank heavens for
small mercys. We're still bacon in the frying pan right now.::

A few seconds later, fire crews on the outside of the building used
tools to cave in the tall window they had set the working end of
a ladder against. It was Truck 127's aerial. The musical tinkling 
of showering glass under axe blows, annihilating itself, pointed 
the way out of the smoke.

Sean felt the taller paramedic tapping him on the shoulder. "Have
a seat over there. We're going to get your friend out first, all right?"
Roy asked.

"What about the...the...fire?" Sean asked, weaving dangerously until
Johnny helped him sit down on a cindered crated.

"Do you see any around here?" Gage smiled at him. "Put your head down
between your knees. This'll only take a second.." he said, turning back
to help Roy push Mike into the arms of the firefighters waiting outside
the windows. He only saw Kirk the paramedic eagerly grabbing for
a carotid on his man. "Where's Wheeler?" Johnny asked him as
a team of firemen dragged Odegard out onto the bucket ladder and
onto a backboard.

"He got winged by a beam. He's fine. Maybe a dislocated shoulder."
reported Kirk. "He says he can wait for us on a pain med."

One of the fire lieutenants barked when he noticed something. "Hey,
this guy's quit breathing on us." he said, feeling Mike's chest.

Kirk turned. "Johnny, go help Roy with your other victim, I already got 
permission for an endotrachael tube. I'll bag him on the way down.." 
promised the paramedic from 110 as he knelt inside the aerial bucket
to insert the one he had pulled out of his trauma box.

"Ok." said Johnny. "We'll meet you down there to assist. History of
hypertension, TIA, and angina! We nitro'd him twenty five minutes ago
with some effectiveness!" he shouted as the basket descended to
the ground level.

"Got it. I saw the note Roy left.." Kirk said, patting Mike's shoulder.
"See you in a few.."

"I'll meet you down there.." Johnny promised, not happy that he was 
being separated from an arresting victim.

He was only partially contented that the basket firemen never started up
on chest compressions on the lift down.

::Ok, so he's gonna keep that pulse..:: Johnny thought finally.
Gage turned and went back inside the warehouse. "Sean, he's out.
It's your turn. We're going down these stairs. Firefighters have already
checked them out for solid integrity and they've already 
cooled them down for us. Let's go."

"But aren't we going that way?" Sean frowned weakily, pointing at
the open sunset lit shattered window frame.

"No, we're on a second story. And the basket team's busy with Mike.
Come on, put your arms around our shoulders." Johnny ordered.

Sean did so, and soon, the two paramedics were moving down
the catwalk to the fire exit stairwell at the end. The fresh air of the outside 
was too rich for Sean, and he sagged a few feet outside the door when
his adrenalin terrors finally ran out.  Roy caught him and slung him over 
his back. Johnny knelt by Sean's dangling head only long enough to see 
that he was still breathing."He's ok,..still moving it. Keep going." he said. 
"I'll go help Kirk out with the other guy."

"I'll handle him and Wheeler." DeSoto confirmed as another firefighter 
rushed up to help him shoulder carry Sean over to the treatment tarps 
laid out on between the two gear doors open, waiting squads. Roy 
dropped their two air bottles like a sack of potatoes as Cap rushed up 
to get a report. "I saved them, Cap."

"I can see that.." said Hank appreciably as he took off DeSoto's helmet.

DeSoto felt happy enough to joke around a little. "I meant the scba gear,
Cap. Not the victims, they're already a given--- HaccCCK..*cough*"

"Easy, Roy.. Marco's got the O2 set out. Let me take him." Hank said. "I
want you to grab a few pulls off a resuscitator before you start treating 
anybody." he told him.  Roy and Cap traded places in their shoulder carry 
of Sean. "You seem to be worse off than Gage is. I got another rescue
squad on the way to take over for all four of ya. But they won't get here
for another six minutes. Same goes for a couple of ambulances. Once
they're here, you and Gage go in, too, and get yourselves seen."

Roy didn't resist. He just concentrated on putting one foot in front of
the other one the rest of the way to the street. "Ok, Cap. Thanks."

Soon, Roy was on the phone with Rampart and wearing dry 
turnout that Chet had traded out with him. "Rampart, this is Rescue 51. 
How do you read?"

Dixie McCall answered. ##51, I read you loud and clear, go ahead.##

Roy sighed in relief at the sound of her voice and he started giving out
his data. "Rampart, I've two patients, One:  A twenty nine year old male,
approximately 155 pounds, victim of smoke inhalation, the second, is
a Code I, injured shoulder. Stand by for vital signs..*cough*"

##Standing by..## said the head nurse. ##Dr. Brackett's on his way.##

DeSoto glanced across the street and he noticed Johnny on the line
to the hospital, too, using 110's biophone. He smiled when he noticed
Johnny sucking breaths off a spare demand valve in between transmissions.
A glance told him that Mike Odegard wasn't getting any worse. He
was still being bagged but no one was watching his EKG monitor like
a hawk like they could have been doing. ::Still no dangerous rhythm
showing up?... Well, that's a point in our favor. We've been so lucky 
with him....:: he thought.

Feeling his good mood returning, Roy spoke to Wheeler who was still
lying on the ground where he had been left, wincing and holding his shoulder. 
"So, did you lose that bet with Johnny about getting hurt or not this month 
working a scene?"

Wheeler chuckled, his face twisting in both pain and amusement.
"It's a.. .Come on now, don't make me laugh....it's a tie. He's going in for
mild smoke inhalation later on, along with you, isn't he?"

"Maybe not. *Cough* I'm worse than he is."

"Then I guess I lost that bet. Fair and ....*wince* square." said
the mildly sweating but still smiling paramedic.

"I wouldn't give up on it." said Roy, taking Sean's BP with a stethoscope.
"Johnny's klutz gene is still a working sure thing. You can still make
a lot of money off of him. And so can I."

Wheeler started outright laughing at that, and smothering screams, until 
Roy took sympathy on him. "Ok, settle down some of that mirth. I'm
coming over there to give you your MS." he said. "Want some versed to
forget about that bad shoulder for a while?" he asked as he watched Marco 
begin to ventilate Sean some on oxygen.

"No.. G*d, no.. I wanna study Gage some more. Maybe he'll still pass out
from smoke exposure and invalidate our running bet. Just the numbing will do."
Wheeler said, shifting his position where he lay on his crewmates' spare
turnouts. "Here, put it in my left arm. It hurts less."

"Sure thing." Roy grinned. "And don't worry about your shoulder. It's
not broken from the angle I'm seeing on it. That knob's too pronounced to
be anything else but that simple dislocation Kirk's already told us about."
DeSoto shared as he swabbed down and injected morphine.

"I diagnosed that, too. I'll let you know if that hand starts to fall....a...sleep." 
said the paramedic slowly as Roy's pain med began to work on him.

"You do that." Roy said to him. Then under his breath, he muttered. 
"If you can.. although I don't think it'll be just your hand that might fall
asleep here." he smiled as Paramedic Wheeler's eyes finally drifted shut.

He nodded to the firefighter sitting at Wheeler's head to keep some tabs
on his vital signs.

Only when his two patients were taken care of, did Roy bother to
clear out some of the smoke that was still sitting in his own chest 
with some oxygen delivered through a self administered nasal cannula.

It was about then that Cap's promised paramedic relief arrived
to take over for Squads 51 and 110 for patient transporting.

Roy and Johnny, thoroughly worn out and tired, let Marco drive them 
into Rampart for their checkup and evaluation, using their station's squad.

-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
Everybody was there at the ER desk when the three of them finally
arrived. Dr. Brackett looked up from the notes he had been clarifying
with Dixie. "How are you boys feeling? Is it bad this time?" he asked
about their smoke exposure.

DeSoto answered for the two of them. "No, just annoying. 
The O2 has helped us out some." he said, holding up one of
two tanks they're were carrying.

"But you both still feel like death warmed over, huh?" Dixie asked.

Gage and DeSoto both sighed at her in agreement and started
coughing wetly.

Kel Brackett frowned.
"Hmmm, that does sound problematic. Dix, can we get them into 
Treatment Two? I want to get a set of chest films, that's if you two 
wouldn't mind, after I listen to the both of you to hear what your lungs 
are doing. I'll decide what else's needed after I've grabbed a better 
picture."

"Is that a pun?" Dixie quipped at Kel.

Brackett smiled mildly.

"Sure, that room'll open up in about ten minutes." McCall told them all.

"Mike,.." said Dr. Brackett, turning to Dr. Morton, who was still sitting by 
the base station. monitoring the earthquake traffic. "Would you help me 
out with Roy and Johnny?"

"Sure, Kel. I'm free. The two patients Roy and Johnny had are already 
on their way upstairs to CCU and ICU." Morton replied.

"ICU?" Gage asked, surprised. "So Sean's going aspirant?"

"Yeah. Both he and his supervisor were in that smoke a long time even
before the two of you found and rescued them. Odegard's fine. He's suffered 
only a small heart attack. That apnea of his was just due to the smoke."

"That's great news, doc." said Roy.

"And I've got even better news for you, too." said Morton.

"You do?" asked Gage, rubbing the soot off his face.

"Somebody you know's wide awake in Treatment Three and he's fully
expecting some visitors."

"Vince!" exclaimed Marco. "Can I come too? The rest of the guys'll wanna
know how he's doing and I'm the perfect guy to make that phone call."

Brackett chuckled. "Why not? Johnny and Roy'll show you the way."

--------------------------------------------------------------------------------
Roy and Johnny opened the door and they were incredibly happy
to find the familar policeman extubated and resting comfortably in
his hospital gown on the gurney.

"Hey, Vince.. How are you doing?" asked Johnny.
    "Are you feeling better yet?" Roy wondered.
They both said at the same time.

"I'm feeling fine, boys, all thanks to you." said Howard.
"Hiya, Marco." he waved. Then he turned back to the paramedics.
"You'll never guess what did it, boys."

"We have an inkling. Don't tell me, it was some kind of chemical."
DeSoto grinned, folding his elbows together.

"It was, but you'll never guess the culprit. Not in a million years."

"Oh, yeah, well don't keep us in suspense.." said Johnny, a little
over eager and impatient. The problem Vince had, had been bothering
him all day, even through the quiet moments during the warehouse fire.

Vince looked up, and scratched a rash that the two medics hadn't noticed 
earlier on his arm. "Ever heard of the topical psoriasis medication, Dovonex?"

Gage's face fell into one of discovery.. "No way.. Well, I'll be..."

Roy equally started to grin with revealment.

Marco was clueless. "So what was it? Ok, so I take it that stuff's a skin 
ointment of some kind. Sounds harmless enough. So what the h*ll really 
happened to Vince. Uh,"  he glanced apologetically to the officer. "Begging
your pardon, Howard, but I and the rest of the gang've really wanted to find 
out." Lopez insisted.

DeSoto demurred. "Vitamin D toxicosis, Marco. That skin medication contains 
calcipotriol, a synthetic analog of calcitriol..."

Gage continued where he left off. "Which artificially raises the amount of
Vitamin D present in the bloodstream if used too heavily.."

Vince nodded in agreement, a little sheepishly. "I was really started to itch.
I couldn't help myself this morning. Next time, I'll know to use just Calamine
Lotion for my condition when it flares up." he said empathetically, scratching 
a scab or two.

The three firefighters burst out laughing.

-----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
An hour later, Roy and Johnny had been seen and taken care of
and with their clean bills of health in hand, they made their way to Rampart's
cafeteria for some solid snacking food. Along the way, they met Kirk and 
Wheeler. Marco was still tagging along as their station chauffeur.

"Hey, Wheeler..That was fast." remarked Johnny. "How's the shoulder?"

"This? Oh, fine. fine. Dr.Early popped it back into place and it feels almost
as good as new." he said. "This sling's only to remind me that I hurt it today
so I don't overdo it. I'm still on duty, same as you." he replied. "So, what's
new at the station?"

"Oh, not much.. not much.." said Gage thinking hard about the injury bet that
neither one of them were going to collect on this month. "Got an invention
in the works for the chiefs..It's going good."

"Really?" asked Kirk. "That's ironic, cause Tommy here's had one cooking, too.
And it's come to fruitation."

"Oh, yeah?" Gage asked suddenly getting a sinking feeling in the pit of his stomach.
"Well, what's it about? Mine's about a new kind of...information gathering system.."

"No kidding, well mine was, too. And the chiefs just got done approving it." said
Wheeler, holding his used to be hurt arm absently. "Got a letter of commendation
for it."

"Huh..Imagine that." said DeSoto, suddenly interested when he realized that Gage 
was suddenly dismayed. "What's it called?"

Wheeler grinned proudly and Kirk smacked him on the shoulder proudly, sharing
the good feeling with his partner. "Oww,," Charles winced. "Easy, pal. Pat me on 
the other side if you're going to do that. I'm still sore."

"No, you're not. That's all psychosomatic." Kirk whispered into his ear.

Wheeler ignored his hovering partner and spilled the beans. "I'm calling it
the Vial Of Life. You see, the two of us are always sick and tired of taking care
of little old blue hairs who can't ever tell us what's going on with them
on a rescue call. Now this system is actually a container, that holds...."

Gage's expression fell into one of long suffering and he held up his hand to
stop overenthusiastic Wheeler's spiel. "Don't tell me,.. I think I already know.
Let me take a little guess here..." he sighed miserably. "The Vial-of-Life is a 
plastic container like the one medicine comes in, right?"

"That's right. H- How'd you know, Johnny. I haven't told anyone else about it yet.
Except for the chief and good ol Kirky here.".. he bounced on his toes.

Gage pushed his lips into a thin line of disappointment. "I'm a very intelligent
man if you haven't figured that one out already."

"Oh, ok." said Wheeler, still completely unoffended and excited. "So can
you tell me how I've worked out the rest of it?"

Johnny hung his head, avoiding eyes as his frustrated anger began to build
privately. "I think I can. So,..inside these containers there just wouldn't happen to
be lists of important medical information for one or all persons in the household,
would there?"

"Yep. There is." said Kirky.

Gage winced and inwardly, he fumed. ::They stole my idea! They up and stole it!::
But on the outside, he made his lips form one last question. "So, after your window
stickers are noticed by the arriving paramedics, where are your containers of information
stashed? In the bathroom somewhere?"

Wheeler made a face of negation. "Heck, no. I mean, where's a place that everybody
goes to no matter what, that's not a trip going to the sh*tt*r?"

Gage thought about it and came up a complete blank. "I don't know.. Somewhere in
the bedroom?"

Kirk grinned. "No man,..in the refrigerator. A bottle looking like a bunch of pills will
stand out like a sore thumb for any searching firemen, paramedics or cops because
it looks so opposite from a food item."

Johnny was crestfallen. "Yeah, that..that would be the perfect spot." Then under his
breath, he muttered. ::Now why didn't I think of that? And why didn't I hurry up about it,
too?:: he quailed privately, still feeling the sting of being inadvertantly out-competed.
"Congratulations on getting in an official action plan with the chiefs, Thomas. I'm really
proud of ya." he said, taking up Wheeler's good hand into his own and given it a shake
of congratulations.

"Gee, thanks, Johnny. I'm still rather surprised at myself for having even thought up the
idea." Tom said.

::So was I.:: Johnny thought privately. 

Roy decided to rescue his stunned partner. "Well, I'm glad your arm's fixed. My, the
three of us are absolutely starving. Geez, is it really six o'clock? Uh, if you'll excuse
us, we're gonna go eat something right now." Roy said, pointing to the food line in an 
animated gesture.

"Oh, sure. Fine by me. Sorry, I was still basking in the moment.." Wheeler said, shaking
himself out of a reverie funk. "I still can't believe I'm getting that contract as that program's
designer." he said, as he and his squad partner started walking away.

Johnny whirled back around from the tray line he had been escaped to. "You mean 
you're getting money for submitting this thing?!" he asked incredulously.

Roy grabbed his partner's arm and firmly steered him away before Wheeler noticed
the outburst. "Settle down, partner, and quit being such a sore loser. This time, no one
cheated on anything. Now let's go eat like truly honorable firemen.." he hissed.
"...and try to forget about the whole thing."

"Me? I don't think I'm ever going to be able to forget about it." Johnny hissed.

Marco helped to pin Gage's other arm until he got a hold of himself. They didn't
let go until the happy paramedic team from 110's had left the room entirely 
a few seconds later, when they got another rescue call.

----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
A few days later, back at the station, Lopez finally launched a way to 
cheer up Johnny. "Say Johnny, why don't you go let Henry out before dinner?"
Marco began.

"Why should I?" Johnny moped.

"Because it's your turn.." Hank glared in an order. "And it's only fair to
do an assigned chore handed out without grousing about it."

"Ok...." Gage grumped.  He got up and left through the kitchen's side door
whistling only briefly to get Henry to hurry up a little on following him outside.

Lopez motioned silently and excitedly to the others after he had disappeared
outside and the rest of the gang trailed Gage on tiptoeing shoes down
the whole length of the side driveway, waiting for the final moment until.....

"Hey you guys, when did THIS get installed?!" came Johnny's excited
surprised voice.

The others laughed outright and jogged over to join him in the backyard near
the old engine.

Hank leaned on a telephone pole. "Oh, you mean this little ol thing?" he said,
tapping his foot on a brand new, sparkling seismography base station scribbling
away underneath a newly erected open shed. "Well, I have it on good authority
that a curly haired fireman we all know, submitted the idea on behalf of a certain
dashing young paramedic standing to my immediate right, that all the firehouses 
probably needed one each, for a faster, earlier warning and detection system. "

"Chet, is this true?" Johnny asked, his mouth flopping open, moving from his
days long moderate festering depression to sudden heart warming tears of 
surprise.

Chet, dug a toe into the dirt, "Yeah. So...?" he began defensively. "Yeah.. I did.
Uh,.. I did it just for you, Johnny." he said, on a gentler shy note.

"Why did you go and do a thing like that for me? That's..that's..." he broke
off, moved beyond words.

Chet scuffed his hair self consciously. "Marco told me about what Wheeler 
did ahead of you and I couldn't just let that station make our station look bad. 
So I...sort of killed two birds with one stone. Nothing wrong with that." he said, 
finally meeting Johnny's eyes. 

"No, there's nothing wrong with that. Nothing at all." said Stanley proudly.

Kelly swallowed uncomfortably. "Uh, your first check comes in the mail next
Saturday for offering up the project, Johnny."

"You know I'm splitting it with ya. Every dime."
Gage sidled over and gave Chet an affectionate mock knock on the chin with
a closed fist of knuckles. "Thanks, Chet. That was real nice of ya."

"No problem." said Chet instantly. "That's what firefighters do. They stick up
for each other whenever ANYbody goes down."


FIN

Pilot Light  Episode 42, Season Six
Emergency Theater Live  
 
------------------------------------------------------------------

Photos:   None.  

**************************************************
 
            
                            End Credits --  Episode Forty Two (Sixth Season)
                                      
                                                     §§    Pilot Light    §§


                        :)    This episode is dedicated to Timothy John "T.J" Lynch. A             :)
                              firefighter/ paramedic. He was killed in the line of duty during 
                              a fire that happened on March 7, 2002 in Pompey, N.Y. at age 
                              28. He was with the Fayetteville N.Y. Volunteer Fire Department.   
                              May he and other volunteer firefighters who have died in the 
                       :)     line of duty, be remembered with honor always.                               :)                             

  
 
The Story Unfolds...

Season Six, Episode Forty Three..
 
 §§    The Quint Connection    §§
 
Debut Launch: March 1st, 2007. 
 
**************************************************
From: "Robert Gutheim" <rguthei1@twcny.rr.com> 
Date: Fri Mar 2, 2007 11:20 am 
Subject: Musical Captains  
 
It was a nice early morning at Station 51 about forty five minutes 
before A-shift went on duty. Firefighter Chet Kelly was already in the
bunkroom trying to fill a balloon up with water.

"Ahem," he heard as if someone was trying to clear their throat.

Kelly tried not to startle.
"Captain Robertson, What brings you here?" Chet asked him as
he spied the man whom in his head, he considered to be one
of the last, great smoke eaters. 

"I was asked, Mr. Kelly, to fill in for the regular captain on C-shift.
Don't worry. I'm not working a double with you boys. At least,
not today." Then he rubbed his nose, his wrinkles curling up in 
half amusement that came out all gruff. "You aren't thinking of 
pulling a prank on a fellow firefighter here are you?" he asked him. 
"It's still my watch."

"Of course not, Captain Robertson. I was just running a pressure test
on the faucet, you know, timing how long it takes to fill a balloon to
a certain size." Chet lied. "It's a hydrologics problem for Engineer 
Stoker to solve in preparation for his upcoming recertification test.."

The tall silver haired captain's eyes narrowed.
"I can assure you, Mr. Kelly, that the faucet's pressure is more than
adequate. You better hope I don't tell Captain Stanley about your
alleged pressure tests if you want to keep from landing latrine
duty." Robertson told him.

"Oh no, sir, please don't. I just wanted to make Gage feel welcome. 
After all, today is his first day back from his most recent stay at Rampart." 
Chet said.

"Then maybe, Mr. Kelly, you should have baked a cake." Robertson said,
shoving his hands into his pockets as he saundered out of the bathroom.

"Nah, Roy is bringing the cake." Chet told him. "Thank you, sir."

After Robertson left the room, Chet finished what he was doing and
headed off.  

Soon, over time, the other members of Chet's crew arrived and
changed into their uniforms. After a bit, Chet grinned as he heard 
someone scurrying for a certain part of the locker room from
the main vehicle garage, and soon  after that came... *SPLASH!*

"CHHHHHHHHHHHHHHEEEEEEE EEETTTTTT TTTTTT!!!"

"Ahhhhhh. Sounds like Gage is here." sighed Captain Stone who 
was subbing for Captain Stanley for the day.

He walked over and leaned into the locker room doorway.
"Gage! You've got five minutes to get into uniform before roll call!"
He shouted, filling the apparatus bay with his gentle sounding, booming 
voice.

Soon after that, everyone gathered in the garage. 

"Morning, gang." greeted Stone shortly. He cracked a grin at the sight of
Johnny's still towelling off his wet hair. "Captain Stanley had to take 
the day off... Uh,..something about needing a little extra time to 
prepare for a ski trip." Ben informed them. "Okay, chore duties....
Gage, after you and DeSoto finish checking the squad, you're in charge 
of the detailing the bunkroom and locker areas. Stoker has cooking duty...
Lopez you've got the hose tower. Say, Chet, guess what? You can help 
Lopez with the hose tower and then you can get cracking on the Latrine. 
Captain Robertson asked me to made sure to have me give you that job."

Gage started clapping in appreciation. "Thanks, Ben. He deserves it."

"Aw, man.." Chet moaned.  "I can't even get a break from the latrine
when Captain Stanley isn't here."

Roy and Johnny got to work inventorying the drug, trauma, I.V.,
and splint boxes as well as making sure the biophone and
defibrillator were charged up and functional. They also checked to see 
that the respirators were sufficiently full.

"We might want to change out this bottle after our next run. It's
only got about 800 psi left in it." Gage noted looking at the main
respirator's D tank.

"That's not a lot of gas left, since lot of times, we have it going at 
15 to 20 liters per minute.. I'll swap it out." Roy volunteered, going to
 get a new cylinder.. When that job was completed, Roy glanced 
into the office where Captain Stone was looking at some paperwork.
"Cap, Gage and I are going to make a supply run." he advised him.

"Ok, Roy. Just remember you and Gage have chores to do when you
return." Stone said.

DeSoto nodded. Then he started smiling when Stone began chuckling.
"What's so funny?"

Ben took off his white inspection cap and rubbed his tightly curled
hair. "I sure hope Gage doesn't get injured today." laughed the
African American captain.

Roy shrugged, his easy mood still glowing on his face.
"So do I. Tomorrow afternoon, after we get off duty, we're heading 
for Lake Tahoe." Roy told him.

"Wow, who's all going?" Stone asked him.

"Oh, just the usual six of us, plus Brackett, and Dixie." Roy told him.
"Wanna come?"

"No.." he said empathetically. "Have fun. I hate the snow." Ben said, 
making a face.

"I'll tell ya all about it."
Roy drummed a happy beat on the door frame as he turned away
and got into the squad behind the driver's wheel.

"L.A, Squad 51. We're 10-8 to Rampart General." Gage called out
using the hand mic.

##Squad 51. Time out : 07: 04. ## echoed Sam's familiar voice
throughout the station's overhead and over their dash speakers.

-----------------------------------------------------------------------------------

A short trip later, they backed into the Emergency area away from
the patient unloading lanes. Leaving their helmets in the truck, they
wandered in and over to the reception's desk with an empty kerlix
box.

"Hey guys," Dixie greeted them. "You ready for tomorrow?"

 "Just about, Dixie. I just have to get through this shift..." Johnny
replied. "...and I'm home free. We're just here for a few supplies."

"How is it being back at work?" Dixie asked him, remembering
his double overnight stay due to smoke inhalation. 

"Well, I got greeted by a water balloon courtesy of The Phantom."
Gage replied. "So I guess I'm feeling properly christened." he
joked, still a little hoarse.

"Hopefully Chet will lay off during the ski trip." Dixie said.

"I'm sure Cap will do his best to keep Chet in line while
we're all out there." Roy said.

The H.T.  beeped. 
##Squad 51, stand by for a response.## came the dispatcher's 
voice over the open channel handy talkie.

"Well, we'd better get going." Roy said as they were dispatched 
to a house fire. Its address flowed out richly.

Dixie waved a bored hand.
"Have fun, you two. But I promise you we'll have even more of
the real stuff starting tomorrow." McCall called out after them. 
"I'll have your order filled by the time you get back here with a 
patient. That's if you get one who's not wearing a county jacket." 
she corrected,  partially as a hint warning Johnny to be careful.

"We'll come anyway.." Gage promised. "And yeah, I'll be careful.
I've coughed enough over the two days to last a lifetime.." he
told her, chuckling. "I can hardly wait to start breathing in
all that fresh, crisp mountain air."

------------------------------------------------

Photos:  None.

**************************************************
From: "Robert Gutheim" <rguthei1@twcny.rr.com> 
Date: Sat Mar 10, 2007 12:25 pm 
Subject: House Fire   
  
They arrived at the scene of a two story house that had smoke pouring
out of the downstairs. The house itself looked abandoned.  By this
time, Engine 51 and Truck 116 were already on hand. 

Roy and Johnny walked over to Captain Stone.

"What have we got Cap?" Roy asked him.

"The house is supposedly vacant. The owners are out of town and have
been for a few months. Apparently they summer up north somewhere
according to the neighbors.." he said pointing to a man he had just
spoken to moments before. "Chet and Marco are doing a search 
make sure no vagrants moved in while the owners were away." Captain 
Stone reported.

Right then Chet and Marco jogged over and set down a couple of
victims from where they had been perched on top of their air bottles 
across their backs. The first was a male around age thirty five who
was unconscious. The second was a little girl around five or six who
wasn't moving either. 

Roy and Johnny got to work, each taking a victim's head.
"Get out both O2 apparatuses, Mike. They're in trouble."
said DeSoto, seeing their bluish color.

"You got it." said Stoker, hurrying first to the squad and then 
the engine.

Vince, directing traffic, walked over.
"What did you find out, guys?" he asked the firefighters.

"Apparently, these people tried to move in as supposed renters
while the owners were away. According to the neighbors, nobody is 
supposed to be living in that house." Stone reported. "Excuse me,
I'm needed." he told the officer.

"Sure, no problem. I'll get the rest later." said Vince.

Stone knelt to help Johnny, still being a paramedic himself.  He
nodded at Marco to ventilate Gage's man with a demand valve and he
wrote down the vitals Gage called out. Then he handed Johnny's note
pad to Roy and soon, he patched the sooty adult into the Tetronix
and used the defib paddles to view the girl's rate and rhythm on
the Datascope. "Chet, is she clear enough for you?" Ben asked Kelly, 
who was supporting the child's weak inhalations on an oxygenated bag 
while Stoker kept her head in a careful, neutral line.

"Yeah. She's still ok." replied Kelly. "This is working. Her color's returning."

"Rampart, this is Squad 51..." Roy called in.

##Go ahead, 51. This is Rampart Base.## Dixie replied.

"Rampart, we have two victims of a house fire. Victim One is a male age
around thirty five. We are presently administering 15 liters of 02. Vitals are:  
BP, 80 over 50. Respirations were eight unassisted. His pulse is 
142 and weak but regular. He is patched in and we can send you a strip. 
Victim Two is a female child approximately five years of age.  Vitals 
signs : Pulse is 124. respirations unaided were at six. BP is reading at 68 
over 20. Her rhythm's showing on paddles as an uncomplicated sinus 
tachycardia."

##10-4, 51. Transmit both their EKGs as soon as you can.##

At Rampart,  Dr. Early was just walking over.

"What have you got, Dix?" he asked her. Dixie handed him the run
sheet.  He looked it over quickly and keyed the mic.

##51, are both your victims cold and clammy?## Early asked.

"Affirmative, Rampart. Still pale, too, despite the O2." Roy replied.

##Ok, send me a strip on Victim One first. As soon as you've patched in
Victim Two, follow up with hers.  For Victim Two, insert a peds endotrach tube
and step up her oxygen to prevent incidental P.E.. For both victims, start 
a couple of I.V.'s of normal saline, wide open. Treat any visible burns, 51. 
For Victim  One, administer 1.0 mgs 1/10,000 epinephrine I.V. push. 
Give Victim Two .3 mgs of eppy in a 1/1000 I.V. bolus.## Early ordered. 
##Let me know if Victim One begins to show that he needs further airway 
support past your oropharyngeal. I'll authorize something else.##

Roy quickly acknowledged his orders and began working on the little girl.

Gage meanwhile searched for more on the man. He had a couple minor 
smoking burns which Stoker quickly snuffed out and irrigated using sterile 
draping sheets and saline bottles. "Stoker, would you say he's a seven
on the rule of nines?"

"Easily.." replied the engineer. "Both legs, neck, this arm, and along the
left side of his lateral back. That arm's circumferential."

"O.k. Go ahead and wrap that one. Loosely. And tell me what you get
for capillary refill."

Stoker checked, pinching a fingernail. "Over two seconds."

Gage nodded. "That's just shock working. The burn itself is only second degree
there." he said, pointing. Then Johnny turned his attention to the child. She 
was surprisingly unscathed and her only problem seemed to be her 
trouble breathing from her recent smoke exposure. 

Roy picked up the phone after tossing down a failed I.V. set.
"Rampart, I'm having trouble getting the I.V. in on Victim Two. Requesting
permission for an ET administration?"

## Approved, 51. Double concentration on that epinephrine with a 10cc 
saline bolus. Any presence of rhonchi or rales in either patient?## Early asked 
him.

"Stand by Rampart," Roy replied. "Johnny, any rhonchi or rales on your
victim?"

"No, there isn't." Gage replied. "He sounds open." Johnny answered, pulling
the stethoscope out of his ears.

Roy nodded. 
"Rampart, negative on both victims for rhonchi or rales. And there's
no evidence of any burns, ash or soot around their mouths and noses."

##Ok, 51. Continue all treatments and transport as soon as possible.
Keep us advised of any change in their conditions.## Early ordered.

"10-4." Desoto replied. 

Within five minutes, the fire crews were loading their patients into the
ambulance. Roy and Johnny both rode in the ambulance together
to keep up resuscitation efforts so Marco was elected to drive the 
squad in. 

---------------------------------------------------------------------------

Dixie was waiting with their earlier supplies that she pulled out
after she saw the gurneys taken into their assigned treatment rooms.
A few minutes later, Roy and Johnny joined her at the desk.

"I added in anything you used on this last rescue." Dixie said. "How are
they both doing?" she asked softly.

"The father started breathing on his own on the way in. The girl is
still out of it. Early just put her on a respirator." Roy reported. "I hope she 
makes it."

"If she doesn't,.. well, you did your best, Roy." Dixie reminded him. "Much
as we try we can't win them all."

"I know. But when you think about it, it's our job to save as many as
possible. Both mine and Johnny's as paramedics, and yours as a nurse."
Roy commented.

"We can only do the best we can." 
She soon changed the subject with a deft smile after she poured them all 
some coffee into waiting mugs. "Has Chet made any wise cracks about 
Kel and I coming along on the ski trip just in case Johnny gets injured?"
she asked winking one eye suggestively.

Roy smirked at her. "When he found out you and Brackett were tagging along,
that was the first thing he joked about. Thankfully, Gage wasn't in that day." Roy
replied, throwing his partner an ironic look that spoke volumes.

Johnny scoffed when he learned what had happened behind his back.
"If I'd been working, I would have given new meaning to the phrase 'if looks 
could kill.'" Gage pointed out, sipping his coffee.

"Not to worry, Johnny. Cap gave him one that I think would have completely
qualified on that count." Marco said.

Very soon, they returned to the station and got back to work on their chores. 

-----------------------------------------------

Photos:  None.

**************************************************
From: "killashandrarey01" <killashandrarey01@yahoo.com> 
Date: Thu Mar 15, 2007 10:50 pm 
Subject: The Value Of A Play On Words~~ 

Johnny actually started whistling while he mopped. A nameless tune, 
but one full of obvious contentment.

Roy began grinning up where he was polishing the chrome roof rails on top 
of the squad's chassis. He chuckled. "I never thought I'd see ever the day 
a bucket of ice cold soapy water had the power to put a bonafide smile 
onto your face."

"That's not such a surprising secret to anyone around here tonight, now is it?" 
Johnny beamed widely, leaning on the mop handle. He studied his watch. "In 
exactly ten hours hours, nineteen minutes and.." he squinted, peering
at his water spotted watch face. "..forty two seconds, we'll all be plane 
bound for Eastern Lake Tahoe for a long weekend of fun in the...."

"Snow, not sun." Roy interrupted, making a face. "You know, I still can't 
believe I let the the rest of you guys talk me into going on this trip 
in the first place."

"That's not the fault of ours. At all."
Gage paused in his vigorous floor scrubbing, glancing upwards.
"You agreed to come pretty fast when we offered you that free plane 
ticket, Mr. Family Man."

Roy sprayed another spritz of polisher on his rag in irritation.
"Of course I did. I thought that Joanne and the kids would be going there 
with me."

Johnny laughed. "Now what point would there be in inviting family to
an all worker's anniversary party? You know as well as I do that Saturday is
the fifth annual anniversary of the inception of Brackett's fledgling paramedic 
program becoming official law."

Roy actually had to confess out loud. "Not so fledgling any more. We have
what? Twenty four squads now running all over the state of California?"

"Twenty six, if you count the two new ones just legalized in Santa Rosa 
County last month." Johnny added.

"Oh, yeah. Guess we were the ones responsible for Dr. Frick requesting 
those teams. Directly." Roy agreed.

"Ah, nothing like a point made in real life to drive home a little reality." said 
Gage.

"Huh?" Roy doubletook, clearly not understanding Gage's euphemism.
Then he blinked. "Oh, you mean, 'Truth's the best teacher.'"

"Nah, I meant what I said before, Roy. I believe that sometimes, it takes
a real life experience to make other peoples' lives' problems seem more 
problematic." said Johnny with conviction.

Roy's head began to hurt. "Whatever you say, Johnny. I'm just glad you're
having fun for once."

Johnny shoved his mop back into the metal bucket wringer and he almost
sat down onto the floor in his enthusiasm to ring it dry through the rollers.
"Now what's that supposed to mean? Since when have you ever seen me
unhappy?" John asked incredulously.

DeSoto opened his mouth to begin a reply.

Chet Kelly's voice broke the stillness of the apparatus bay. "No, Roy. Don't
answer his question or we're all gonna be sorrier for it." he said pointedly.
"Do you really want to pay for it later when Gage begins to grumble about that 
oddball character flaw of his all weekend long?"

Johnny pursed a lip, getting annoyed.
"I will not. And it's not a character flaw. Everybody gets a little unhappy
every once in a while. You're no exception to the rule yourself in that 
department."

"Will to." egged Chet. "I smile a lot more than you, Gage. And 
the rest of the guys know it, too." Kelly challenged.

"Oh, boy.." Roy mumbled under his breath, ducking behind the safety of
the row of parked yellow air bottles nestled near his head.

Before the building fray bloomed, it was nipped in the bud.

"Heave to on that mop, Gage. Now!" ordered Cap, as he stepped into the garage 
from his office."And Chet, hut two.. double time, for the hose tower. She's your 
serious date for tonight for mouthing off on the night before vacation." Hank 
bellowed.

"Aww, Cap. I won't have any arms left for all the ski slopes I'm gonna hit 
tomorrow if I do that." Kelly protested.

"You REALLY won't have any arms left if I tell you to drain all those used hoses 
manually. So far, you've still got my expressed permission to use the pulley rigs." 
Hank frowned magnanimously."But that's solely dependent on how quiet all of 
this shooting the acid breeze becomes, during the next five seconds. 5!..  4!..  
3!..."

Chet zippered instantly, and immediately retreated for the rear garage door.

Hank nodded appreciatively when his two paramedics bent with industrious
hearts to their tasks without issuing a single peep.

Popping a couple of dry aspirin into his mouth, Hank Stanley turned back to his long 
list of log updates and the still waiting stack of evaluation folders piled in his 
desk's inbox basket. ::Now, maybe I can get a little peace and quiet around here 
long enough to get my work done without unnecessary aggravation.:: he thought,
rubbing away the last of a tension headache. ::Here's to you, Mr. Robertson.:: he
toasted with his mug of steaming coffee. ::My station this weekend, is yours.::

--------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
The next morning Captain Bob Robertson verbally grabbed a hold of Kelly when
he tried to sneak by the main office from the locker room for his jeep. He was
noticed and pegged, caught in full view when the subbing smoke eater addressed 
him by name. "Mr. Kelly.. a word with you if I may."

Kelly winced in mid sneaking step and froze. "Yes, sir?" he said, willing himself
into a neutral expression as he turned around.

"I noticed you're still on the engineer's list for this year." said the grizzled silver
haired Cap, holding up a memo, fresh in from Headquarters.

"Oh. Uh,..yeah, I guess I am. But I'm not going to get an engine spot anytime
soon. I'm only slot number 74." Chet told him with some saddened weight.

Bob Robertson's eyes lit up. "Ah, but that's only for the L.A. County rigged stations.
Haven't you ever figured out that this list now extends to ALL counties in
the state?"

Kelly's mouth gaped. "It does?"

Nearby, Roy's ears were perked, too. ::I know paramedics now are nationally
accredited so all of us can work in any county or state across the country away
from our working counties. But Bob's news still means nothing to me. I've already
told the chiefs that I don't want to move away from Carson.:: 

Quietly, Roy left Chet to his current fate.

Bob spread out a hand to a chair already turned to face his own lounge
chair. "Mr. Kelly. Have a seat. I have a few questions I'd like to ask you."

Chet, feeling like a brand new probie again, sat, with a thump onto the wooden
seat. "Uh,..Wh--What would you like to know, sir? Is this about something Captain
Stanley missed on my annual evaluation?"

"No..no..no." bubbled a grinning Bob. "Just indulging in a little curiosity. 
Tell me, do you know what a Quint is?"

Chet froze and tried not to chew his lip. Then his father's old lectures started
coming back to him. "Uh,..yes, sir. A Quint is short for "quintuple combination pumper."
It's an engine apparatus that can work five fire functions: as a pump, a water tank, as a 
fire hose source, as an aerial device, with ground ladders." Chet answered, 
swallowing a little, hoping his details were right.

Bob smiled, suddenly studying his hands. "That's right, son. You're extremely 
well read. Bet you didn't know this. The first Quint was patented in 1912 by Metz 
Aerials, a German-based fire and rescue apparatus manufacturer. North 
America-based manufacturers, such as American LaFrance began making them
soon after.."

Chet began to relax a bit. "And.. Ferrara Fire Apparatus, Pierce Manufacturing,
and Seagrave companies."

Bob nodded. "Yep. What's a Quint's specs? Give me just the general ballpark 
figures." he said, snapping his fingers suddenly.

Chet blanched, but he began dragging out information that he had forgotten he
already knew. "Her fire pump's got a minimum capacity of 1000 gpm. Her 
aerial device is a combination aerial ladder and elevating platform with a 
permanently installed waterway. Her static water tank has a minimum capacity 
of 300 gallons..."

"How much storage?" Bob asked, narrowing his eyes.

Chet began to feel like a bug under a microscope.
"Uh,..40 cubic feet of enclosed compartmentation with...
a minimum of 30 cubic feet  of storage area for a 2.5 inch or larger fire hose.
And two preconnected fire hose lines."

"And her ground ladders?"

Chet began to sweat.
"85 feet  including, one extension ladder, one roof ladder and one attic ladder?"

"Correct. What else?" Robertson said, sliding a pencil across the engineer's list
so hard that his pencil tip broke.

Chet jumped in his seat. "Uh,.. suction hose.. Yeah. 15 feet of soft suction hose 
and 20 feet of hard suction hose for drafting."

"What's drafting, fireman?" Robertson fired off suddenly.

Kelly's upper lip quivered and he dared to speak. "Sir, am I being tested here?"

Bob smiled. Slowly. "Not exactly. But,..maybe." he said vaguely. "Go ahead
and see if you can answer that last bit."

Chet's eyebrows furrowed in worry. But he dug down deep into his memory
of the engineer's test. "Drafting..refers to the use of suction to move a 
liquid such as water from a vessel or body of water below the intake of a suction 
pump."

"Yep. What are the standard formulas for those processes on a Quint?"

Kelly just about had a stroke and he wiped away the sweat now dripping into
his eyes. "Standard atmospheric pressure is 14.7 lbf/in˛, enough to raise water 
to a theoretical maximum of 33.9 ft through any tube. Depending on application, 
fire department pumps lift water 20 to 30 feet artificially."

"Yes. Give me more." ordered Bob.

Chet's eyes began to lose their focus."To reduce drafting friction and obtain 
a larger flow or higher lift, a larger cross-section of suction hose is employed. For 
example, using a 5 inch pump could lift 500 US gallons per minute up 23 feet. 
All told the longer the lift, the lower the flow, for a fixed diameter suction hose and 
any given pump. Multiple relays should be used if the need arises, with a 
suction pump drafting up to 30 ft so it can discharge at great distances."

"How about gravity use apparatuses?"

"For forest fires, sir. Tanks filled by Quints can become a siphon with gravity.
Portable reservoirs of 1,000 to 3,000 US gallons can be filled with a Quint's water 
and small hoses can be laid and used downhill of the tanks."

"What makes this distinguished from regular hoses running off a Quint?"

"Sir, the drafting tank hoses' nozzle pressure is proportional to its distance below 
the reservoir surface. Forty-three percent of the distance, 
in feet, is approximately the number of pounds per square inch pressure
generated by passive flow down. So 100 feet equals 43 psi."

"Stop. How many hoses are on a Quint?"

Chet's eyes never wavered from a spot on the wall. 
"800 feet of 2.5 inch or larger fire hose. 400 feet of 1.5 inch, 
1.75 inch, or 2 inch hose. Nozzles : One combination spray nozzle, 200 gpm, 
two combination spray nozzles, 95 gpm each. One playpipe nozzle with 
shutoffs alongside 1 inch , 1.125 inch, and 1.24 inch tips."

"What else? Name the rest."

Chet no longer felt himself sweat. He was regurgitating pure information
at that point, easily. And from a hidden recess he didn't know he had.
"A Quint's manifest. Sir, right, sir : One 6 pound flathead axe, one 6 pound 
pickhead axe, one 6 foot  pike pole, one 8 foot plaster hook, two portable 
hand lights, one dry chemical fire extinguisher with a minimum 80-B:C rating, 
one 2.5 gallon or larger water extinguisher, one pump intake connection 
with supply-hose compatible threads, one SCBA for every seating position,  
one spare SCBA cylinder for every SCBA carried, one first aid kit, BLS rated,
four spanner wrenches, two hydrant wrenches, two double female adapters, 
two double male adapters, one rubber mallet, four salvage covers,12 feet x 14 
feet, four ladder belts, one 150 foot light-use safety rope, one 150 foot 
general-use safety rope, two wheel chocks and two class one Type E oxygen 
resuscitators." Chet coughed, suddenly coming to his senses.

Bob's eyes never lost their grinning smile. He just held out his hand.
"Congratulations on being moved up into the low twenties on the engineer's
list, son, congratulations. I've just granted you another year's extension and
a forfeit from the official retest for this year."

Chet blinked a few times and started shivering. "I...what?"

"You passed, son. So put it there and go get your butt going on that well
deserved vacation.." Bob said, standing and clasping Chet's clammy hand
into his own warmly. "It was my turn to be the pop oral examiner this time around.
Sorry to catch you unawares. But I was under McConikee's strict orders not
to let you or anyone else onto what was going to happen this morning.."

Chet continued to babble. "But ...I... you....he.." 

"Good lord, son. Do you want me to call your paramedic friends in here to
check you out? You look like you're in shock."

Chet shook his head and his color abruptly returned. He returned Bob's
firm handshake and stood on shaky legs that finally decided to obey him.
He started grinning from ear to ear. "I'm in the twenties now? That fast?"

"Yep. The twenty secondth, to be exact. DeSoto didn't do as well as you.
He was just in here."

"He didn't?! But uh.. Sorry, but wasn't he in ninth position last year?"
Chet stammered.

"Yes, but does DeSoto still want the position as badly as you do?" Bob 
winked. "Not every candidate reads fire engine history as deeply
as they really should. Especially that history and knowledge on the old Quints."
He leaned over the desk and whispered in confidence. "Between you and me, 
I think these old Quint gals are going to make one hell of a come back
within some of the smaller fire districts in the near future."

"I think you're right, Cap. You can't deny compact versatility." Chet whispered 
back. "Especially not on our kind of fire department budget."

"Spoken like a true fire captain hopeful." Bob grinned, letting go of Chet's 
hand. Without a further word, the gray haired Captain Bob Robertson 
dismissed Kelly with a crisp formal nod and salute before he ignored him 
entirely behind the captain's-eyes-only copy of the modifying engineer's list 
again.

In glowing red markered letters, Chet could read his name scribbled backwards
in its new official row and the euphoric Kelly continued to see it behind his retinas 
whenever he blinked, all the way to the LAX airport, on his way to meet the others.

---------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- 

Photos: None.

***************************************************
From: Roxy Dee <laterrapincabesa@hotmail.com>
Date: Tue Mar 20, 2007 4:11 pm 
Subject: The Warming House..

The snow was falling lightly outside in the Sierra Nevada Mountains
when the bunch from Los Angeles arrived in three rental cars topped
to the brim with all their suitcases and ski gear. The sun was shining
brilliantly but Dixie McCall would have nothing to do with it.

"Oh,...BrrRRrrrr." she shivered, stepping awkwardly over the calf
deep flakes as she fled for the warmth of the gigantic ski lodge blanketed
thickly in the stuff. "I'll give a week's pay for the sight of a sun drenched
palm tree waving in the breeze."

"No bet." grinned Dr. Brackett, dressed in red down and yellow. "There're
palm trees in the steam room. I made sure to check the brochure."

"Good, then I'll spend the whole weekend hugging it in there pretending
that I'm not here." she fake whined, blowing on her numb fingers.

Johnny Gage grinned and reached over in his white wool lined
deer hide jacket and lariat and gave her companionable shoulder hug to
ward off her chills. "Does it help that they have a coffee shop on the veranda?"

"They do?" McCall brightened, admiring the lodge spreading expansively
above and around them. "Wow, would you look at the size of that fireplace?
Oh, I'm so at home. Kel, take my stuff." she said, dropping her two woven suitcases
and making a beeline for the monstrous blaze snapping and crackling amid the 
colorful stones set into a pine log wall.  Immediately, she sank down into the deep 
couch, kicked her boots off and tucked her cold tingly feet underneath herself as 
she curled up in feline like bliss. "Oh, I'm not gonna move from this spot. Not for 
anything. Guys, this is one fire, that you're NOT gonna be putting out." she
said passionately, guarding the new one.

"That is the idea, Dixie." Cap said, shedding his short denim jacket as he
dusted snow off his shoulders. "See all the logs in the bin? That steward's filling
it with more bundles even as we speak."

"Perfect.." Dixie sighed, curling up into a red plaid comforter that she immediately
pulled out of her travel bag.

Chet Kelly pulled off his nerdy toboggan hat festooned with ear tassels. "They've
got gourmet food in a three star restaurant.." he dangled.

"No dice." Dixie said quickly, warming her frozen fingers at the roaring
flames. "These nuts and fruits'll do me just fine.." she said, pointing a delicate
toe at the snacks lined up on the table invitingly for wandering guests. "Just call me 
the resident book worm couch potato because that's what I'm gonna be
right along with the official lodge house mouser.." she declared tossing her frosted
snow melting head at the sleek, fat red tabby who was face worshipping the fire 
and peering about with sleepy jowl slitted eyes. "So go have fun. Don't wait
up for me. This is a resort, right? Anything I want'll be brought to me instantly. All
I have to do is snap a couple of fingers."

Roy made an amused face. "Uh,.. this is a ski lodge, not a hospital. Folks might
take that as being a little rude. I don't think there're any student nurses lurking
around here anyplace to jump instantly at any of your nonverbal orders."

"I wouldn't be too sure.." said Marco, looking at a couple of notices on the employee
board. "Looks like they're gonna have some kind of rescue training going on this 
afternoon."

"Oh, yeah?" asked Stoker, already coat peeled and lounging in a thick dark green
carnigan. "What's it about?"

"Guess.." said Chet, peering at the reminder, scoffing at his denseness. "We're 
surrounded by a million tons of the stuff."

Mike snapped his fingers. "Avalanche rescue. Right. Sorry. Not used to thinking 
in terms of that kind of thing."

"That's the whole idea for this vacation, Mike. To get our minds OFF work. Now
come on, come on, let's go. I wanna go check out the stables." said Johnny eagerly.

"And I want to hit all four triple black diamonds before sunset." said Chet.

Roy's eyebrows went up. "Don't you think you ought to try a few bunny hills first?
Just to warm up a little?" he said, winking at Dixie in apology for the thawing reference.

"Why? I've been ocean water skiing for two months straight getting ready for this
trip. I've got every muscle in tip top peak condition." Che declared.

"You sure about that?" Cap said dubiously. "I think I'm beginning to see a hint of
flabby-ness starting up under the forearms there, Kelly." he teased as Kelly got
down to his tie dyed hippie shirt emblazoned with a peace sign.

"You're not seeing nothing, Cap, not a single ounce. Skiing and firefighting? Now 
that's a recipe for anybody to win the Mr. Olympus title."

Gage burst out laughing. "Him?" he said, pointing at Chet as he stuffed a few 
unshelled pecans into his mouth hungrily.

Chet took offense with good humor.
"Look who's talking, Scrawny Bones. I'm still the winner of all our arm wrestling
contests."

"Not for long." said Gage, clearing his throat uncomfortably at the far shorter
fireman. He hefted up on his Indian beaded belt. "Say, who's starving for lunch? 
I know I am after all that slippery driving coming in from the airport."

"Me.." 
   "Me.."
"Me.." came a chorus of agreement.

Brackett chuckled at everyone's playful eagerness.
"Tell you what? Let's go check in first, then we can all grab something to 
eat together at one big table. How does that sound?"

"Great... great.." they said and turned to go. But then, as one, they 
stopped at looked back at Dixie, still cocooned in her afghan. "Dixie?" 
asked Brackett for them all.

She sighed. Expansively."Ok, I'll come. But you're buying me a brandy."

"You're on." Kel said.

---------------------------------------------------------------- 

 Photos: None.

**************************************************
From: Roxy Dee <laterrapincabesa@yahoo.com>
Date: Wed Mar 28, 2007 11:46 am 
Subject: The Wave Of Change

Kel Brackett decided on a light Chardonnay and tuna fillet.

Salad was far from the menu choices of the gang who 
ate typically firefighter with steak, heaping potatoes and...

"Brussel sprouts..." said Chet, resting the butts of his knife and
fork on the fine white dining cloth under his plate.

Gage made a face. "Brussel sprouts?!"

Kelly ignored him.

Roy answered on his behalf. "Sure. Why not? They're healthy."

Johnny kept right on eating his hamburger cordon bleu, looking
both chipmunk cheeked and incredulous. "But this is vacation." 
he insisted. "Chet, you're supposed to be indulging yourself."

"According to Dr. Morton,..I AM." said Chet, glaring a little. 
He had nothing else in front of him except black coffee and the 
bowlful of tiny steaming cabbages.

Cap buried his mouth in his hand and spoke under his breath.
"Oh, no. Not the great crash diet again.." he murmured. ::He's
NOT gonna drag me into that whole deal again.:: he thought firmly.

No one heard him. Luckily.

Chet was amenable and not once did he enter his usual defensive 
mode. "Johnny, look. I promise I'll order some key lime pie and a small
snack afterwards. Limes are low on polyunsaturated fats." he grinned
broadly.

Now the others were making faces of distaste, too as Chet shovelled in
a large spoonful of what looked like rabbit food.

Dixie fought to keep from giggling as she set her heated Brandy snifter
back down onto the table. She pegged Stoker with a stare. "So, Mike, am
I finally going to learn what you do for a hobby when you're off duty this
trip? Or is that going to remain one of the great mysteries of the ages." she
teased.

Stoker glanced up from the porterhouse that he was wolfing down in unrealized
haste out of force of habit. " Oh, is that all you wanted to know? All you had to
do was ask." he said straight faced. He went back to eating without replying for
several long seconds until a good natured grin bubbled to the surface underneath
Dixie's cool but half impatient scrutiny. "I invent things. But they never usually
amount to much when I finally do get done tinkering with them." he admitted.

"What kinds of things?" McCall said, nibbling on a breadstick over her plate full
of penne pasta, olive oil and basil.

"Anything that helps fight fires." he offered easily, stretching in his chair. "The chief
throws open invention contests every once in a while to see what we regular guys
might come up with that might better the department in some way."

Marco sniggered. "Yeah, like Chet's human fly shoes." he laughed. "Aren't they the
trendy thing nowadays at the carnival's fun house with all the kids? I hear they
walk all over the rotating tunnel tube with them on while they're wearing whole
body safety pads and hockey helmets."

"Oh, oh..really?" Dixie said, not being able to come up with anything else to say 
that wasn't going to sound impolite in some way.

Hank wiped his mouth on a napkin, and leaned forward proudly.
"They earn about fifteen dollars every week for the heart association charity 
on behalf of Station 51."

"Aww, that's sweet, Kelly. I didn't know you had a charity streak a mile wide."
said Dixie thoughtful.

Kelly kept right on chewing, pointedly ignoring everybody. But then he 
stopped, letting out a long, painful sigh. "Believe me, it wasn't intentional. I was 
aiming along the same lines as Stoker was about coming up with new firefighting 
inventions. Only it didn't work out that way."

Dixie blinked, smiling gently. "Seems to me that things worked out just perfectly, 
Chet. I'm real proud of ya. That took guts not trying to market those shoes as 
a new toy line." she said, offering him a friendly toast with her nursed drink.

Chet's face fell into one of instant dismay. "Wait a.. wait a minute.. as toys?"
he said, pushing a half chewed sprout out of his mouth onto his plate, licking his 
fingers.

Roy DeSoto handed Kelly an elegant copper ring rolled cloth napkin without 
looking.

Kel Brackett suddenly changed the subject. "Who brought their skis?"

"I did.."
    "I did..."
"Me, too." said a chorus of replies.

Kelly gave up what could have been a nasty case of hindsight.
He sighed sadly.  "Not me. I have to go rent mine."

"How come?" Brackett asked. "I thought you were an avid skier."

"I am. I have five sets of water skis in the storage shed at my 
apartment." said Chet. "I....just kinda.. well... I lost my snow set 
last month." he said quickly, gulping down the last of his coffee.

Roy craftily gave him more so he could fortify himself for the
next question to come.

Kel was curious. "Oh, yeah? What happened to them?" he asked.

Chet met Brackett's eyes but couldn't make his mouth work quite 
enough to answer him effectively due to a lingering sense of 
embarassment.  

Hank let Chet off the hook gently. "He used the wrong wax on them, doc.
I'm afraid they got ruined during an inadvertant cleaning session." Stanley 
bailed.

Next to him, Marco pantomimed something going up in smoke in a big
silent fireball much to Chet's dismay, but the dinner picking doctor and 
nurse failed to make the connection as they emptied their plates of food
hungrily.

Mike Stoker took heart. "Say, Doctor Brackett, is it true that paramedics
can work anywhere in the lower forty eight states now, free and clear,
as long as they have a doctor on the line?"

Roy and Johnny tried not to look surprised. They both realized then that
they had forgotten to read the new memo on the announcement board at
the station posted that very morning.

"They can." Brackett said. "After all, I can. Why shouldn't they? It didn't make
sense to keep a paramedic so limited in his scope of practice inside a restricted 
service area. In fact, it was the Los Angeles County Fire Department that 
showed me and the powers that be exactly how much moving around their 
medic firefighters actually do in any given fire season."

Cap looked up from his mashed potatoes. "You mean because of all our
brush fire assignments we get every year."

"Yes, that's exactly what I mean." said Kel. "When Chief Houts came to me and
showed me how often you men were jumping the county and state lines
because of firestorm duties, I just had to go to legislation about it. Immediately."

"Why worry about it so fast?" Johnny asked. "The old system works pretty well."

Chet piped up. "Not really, not if you're stuck out of state in the middle of a desert
along a rural highway." Kelly still remembered the fishing trip where Roy, Johnny 
and he encountered a traffic accident with a jugular stabbed little boy and his injured
mother. It had happened the same week as Johnny's almost fatal rattlesnake bite.

"We got to a phone, Chet." Gage said, glancing at him.

"Yeah, but don't you remember how steamed you got at first? Morton couldn't 
issue I.V. orders to you when we needed them and it was only Doc Frick 
walking in physically who saved the day for us." Chet said.

Johnny squinted as he remembered back.
"Oh, yeah, that's right. Guess I was so worried about the kid I forgot how frustrated
I was." Johnny said. "I guess a change in practice was necessary."

Brackett set down his fork and balled up his napkin onto his plate.
"Oh, it was. Think about it, Johnny. A paramedic is an acting extension of his overseeing
medical physician's license. Why should he be restricted where he can practice 
that emergency medicine, as long there's a biophone or landline open, just because 
he's across a city or county or state's recognized lines?" Brackett countered. 
"It didn't make sense to limit one and not the other when we're already working 
so closely together on every rescue call."

"Well that makes sense." said Hank. "What took them so long to realize that fact?"

Brackett shrugged.

DeSoto was still acting surprised.
"I wasn't aware that all you physicians can work over state lines now. The AMA
must have instigated that, thinking that we, in our branch of EMS, didn't need to know 
about it yet. Is there some kind of new agency or committee that overseeing all of 
these new changes for our fire station's level of involvement?" Roy asked Kel.

"There sure is. That's the subject of the next meeting I've scheduled for Monday 
morning. Guess you both forgot to read the new notice on your way out the door."
he teased."It's called the National Registry of Emergency Medical Technicians.They're 
becoming THE testing and sole recertification body that'll handle all relicensing 
and new registration country wide at both the EMT and paramedic levels so area 
hospitals won't need to follow up on that kind of paperwork themselves anymore." 
he smiled. "The agency will officially become testing ratified in four years. What we're
entering now, is a trial period. The agency itself formed in 1970, but didn't have
any real committee power available until I and others stepped in and got attention
redirected and focused on them."

"1980... I can hardly wait. That sounds like an eternity from now."
DeSoto leaned back in his chair, nursing his dark beer glass thoughtfully.
"We're growing up so fast. Seems like just yesterday when it was just me and Johnny,
Ben Stone's crew and Craig Brice's crew as the only paramedic rescue squads 
out there in existence."

"Time flies when you're having fun." Dixie demurred, curling up into her chair
as she pushed her empty pasta bowl away.

Kel Brackett smiled softly, very pleased with their situation, saying little.
He only nodded in agreement. But then he spoke. "Relax, Roy. We've got the most 
important thing in operation that matters now." he said, finishing his wine.
"The fact that we can work EMS anywhere we happen to be, so long as we're 
still in direct communication with each other, is a big one in the bag." he grinned 
crookedly.
 
----------------------------------------------------

Photos: None.

**************************************************
From: Patti or Jeff or Cassidy <theaterhost@voyagerliveaction.com>
Subject: That's The Name Of The Game
Date: Fri Mar 30, 2007 9:19 am 

About twenty minutes later, Chet scraped the last
of the whipped topping off his dessert plate. He raised
his eyebrows expectantly at the waitron who came to 
collect his dishes."Sir, I'll take that special order now.
Anytime's cool." Kelly said.

"Very good, sir." replied the black jacketted bow tied man.
"I'll bring it directly. Oh, thank you, miss." he said when Dixie 
handed him her empty brandy glass and some more dishes 
that she had gathered up from the others.

"Dixie. You're not at home being a party host. Leave those be."
Kel teased her, a little sharply.

"Says who? Here, I AM the party. Well, at least, part of it anyway."
she declared happily and the others hear hear'd her sentiment.

In high spirits, the gang was still heavy into animated conversation
due to mutual sugar rushes from either sweets or modest
amounts of alcohol and their chatter really filled the room. But soon, 
somnolence from the richness of their meals tempered them into 
quiet periods of reflection. That was when they noticed that they 
were the just about the last chalet guests left in the whole restaurant 
apart from a mother and child pair catching a late snack by the live 
feed TV monitor. It was showing a graceful line of night time 
resort skiers descending the highest slopes in a midnight display 
of brightly lit hand held flares, one in each hand.

"Oh, would you look at that?" Dixie exclaimed, pointing to it.

"Umm, hmm. Beautiful.. They do this on every clear night, according 
to the front desk." said Brackett.

"No, I don't mean them, I mean all that steam pouring out of their
mouths. They must be freezing to death out there skiing so fast
in all this cold." McCall clarified, shivering anew.

"Dix, don't watch. Here. Take my coat." said Brackett laughing, as he 
peeled out of his jacket to give to her. "It sounds like it's time for you 
to rejoin those toasty flames by the fireplace."

"Not in here, though. Looks like they're about ready to close up. I can
go back to the lobby in a few minutes when everybody's through with
their cocktails."

"Suit yourself. Keep that for now to ward off the chills." Kel, said, sitting 
back down and readjusting his tie so it stayed off the table top.

The waiter returned with Chet's after dinner repast, a box of Cracker
Jacks, purchased from the gift shop down the hall. With relish, the man
tore open the box deftly with napkined wrapped fingers. "Oh, excellent
choice, sir. I indulge once in a while with these myself." he admitted
bending close. "Ma'am. Please stay." he addressed Dixie. "The
kitchen may close at midnight, but not the bar." he winked. "That closes 
at one. So please, make yourselves comfortable. I think we're empty 
because everyone else turned in a bit early to catch advantage of the 
ideally angled early sun tomorrow morning on the higher slopes." Once 
the box was de-lidded, he handed the whole snack over to Chet with a 
smile.

Marco noticed what Chet had ordered. "Gage's slider was way better
than those things. Don't tell me Cracker Jacks are your idea of getting 
something else good to eat."

"Sure they are. Very high in fiber and I think you already know the best 
part about getting some of these babies." he said, digging his fingers inside 
eagerly. He grunted a little when he didn't find the prize packet that he 
knew was in there. The grinding noise continued and everyone around 
the table was soon strangely mesmerized by the undecided issue. Kelly 
grew more and more frustrated with his search until Gage threw out his 
hand. "Chet, give it here. I'll find it."

"NoOOOoo." said Kelly, protectively drawing the cracker jack box to himself.
"I don't want your grimy hands all over my food. Go away."

Johnny pursed his lips."I'm not gonna paw your kernels. I got tools."
he said, flipping open his jacket. He was wearing his paramedic holster
kit.

Roy chuckled. "Did you forget to take that off in your hurry to meet us
at the airport?" 

Gage shot him an irritated look. "Something like that." he said, drawing out
a pair of long Magill forceps. He did a double take when he caught his partner 
still regarded him with amusement. "Ok, all right. I'll admit it. My holster's like
a watch. I really notice it when I'm not wearing one and it drives me up a 
tree. I hate the sensation I get when I take it off."

Brackett started chuckling and moved his head aside, showing everyone the
ear pieces of a stethoscope sticking out of his shirt. "I got the same problem.
Shh..." he said, hiding them again inside of his collar. "Don't feel bad, Johnny.
I'm exactly the same way."

"No fooling?" Gage asked him, really not believing.

"No fooling." Kel told him, his eyes twinkling.

"Yeah, and Kel probably wears that in the shower, too." Dix guffawed, enjoying
the secret revealed tidbit about her best friend.

Chet smirked, eyeing up the room. "Anyone else in here packing anything? 
Come on, now. It's time to 'fess up."

"I brought a pocket mask." said Roy. "But that's in my suitcase."

"I got my swiss army knife. Can't leave the station without having it." Hank admitted.

"Every guy's got a pocket knife on him somewhere, Cap. That's nothing 
oddball." Chet teased. "You're fine." he waved in dismissal.

Marco displayed a couple of bandaids and a St. Christopher's medal, and 
Stoker, a favorite chrome polishing rag. 

Kelly held up his lucky rabbit's foot. Then he looked up expectantly. "Dix? 
What have you got that you couldn't leave home without?"

McCall hugged her purse. "My traveler's checks?" she offered lamely,
still guarding her belongings.

The gang winced and groaned at the pun.

Kel made a face and plucked the handbag out of her grip in high amusement. 
She didn't resist the stealing but she did cover her eyes in acute embarrassment.

Dr. Brackett looked down inside of it once he opened the top. "Uh huh.." he
coughed in discovery, peering inside closely. "Just what have we here?" he 
said, extending the suspense with a nosy grin.

Johnny chuckled as he expertly dug around Chet's cracker jacks with his Magills
by tool touch alone. He was biting his lip as he felt their sensitivity as he probed.
"Ah, there it is.." he said, drawing out the paper and foil toy packet deftly.
He held it out by the probe tips to Chet who snatched it free happily.

"You did that without looking?" Chet exclaimed.

"Course I did. There isn't much looking you CAN do whenever you find yourself
stuck using one of these things." Johnny shared, restabbing the forceps deep into 
the box before he plunked both the box and embedded tool down onto the 
table top.

"That's right." Roy agreed.

"Not unless you have a laryngoscope, too." Brackett added, still admiring the 
contents of Dixie's wool woven purse. 

Chet became lost in the mystery of his unopened prize. "Gee, thanks, Johnny."

Kel made an announcement. "Everybody, let's have a drum roll, please. I found it." 
Then he pulled out something very familiar and set it onto the table dramatically. 
"She brought...... her rolodex.." 

"My spare.." Dix said, turning the dial so all of the phone cards flipped around on
the wheel. "Well... I...never know when I'm gonna have to call Betty or one of the
other nurses this weekend for something I forgot to tell them to do at work while 
I'm gone."

Roy grinned at her. "You know what they always say..Once a head nurse..."

"No, once a fire fighter..." Chet corrected him.

"Or a paramedic..." said Gage, pointing to the tool embedded in the box sitting
in front of him.

"Or a doctor.." Kel said, ending the irony. Then he held up his finger. "Waiter.
Can we grab our bills, please?"

The whole gang dissolved in fits of shared laughter and they admired everybody's 
away from the work place pacifiers in high amusement.

But then their happy sounds were suddenly jarred by those of someone in 
dire respiratory distress, someone very young, suffering high pitched vocal 
stridor.

They whirled back towards the outdoor monitor lounge only to see a frightening 
sight. A little boy had crossed wrapped his hands around his throat. He was  
fighting to breathe in desperately. The child was doing it, but barely.

The station and Rampart bunch got to their feet fast, hurrying to the small family's
side. Roy knelt by the child and asked. "Son, are you choking? Can you speak?"
The boy didn't answer but he kept right on coughing. He didn't protest being sat
on Roy's crouched knee. "That's ok, just keep trying to get the air in a little better. 
Keep coughing as long as you can. We're here to help you." Roy said, opening the 
boy's collar a little wider.

Gage moved to a chair and sat down next to his mother. "Ma'am, we're Los Angeles 
County Paramedics and this, is Dr. Brackett and Nurse McCall from a city hospital. 
Was he eating something when all this began?"

"No. Yes. Uh, I- I don't know... I.." she panicked. "I wasn't watching him, I was watching
the T.V. over there. Oh, please. Tell me what's the matter with him."

"Ma'am, my partner's trying to determine just that. But your son's doing fair 
for now." Johnny told him. "Just tell me what you do remember."

Nearby, Dixie flagged down the waiter. "Mister, call for your resort's first aid team 
and their medical gear. This boy's in serious trouble."

"Uh,.. well, we don't have them inside right now. They're way up there 
on the peak on med standby for the pyro display people going down the 
mount--"

"Ok, call for an ambulance crew. Or your fire department. Whoever's closer."
she ordered.

"Right away." he said, rushing off with one more worried glance back at the cluster
of people surrounding the suffocating child. "But I really don't know how 
to contact them."

"Show me your phone. I do." said McCall and she followed him out of the room.

Dr. Brackett drew out his stethoscope and listened fast over the boy's lungs. "They're
fluid free. Whatever's effecting him is all upper respiratory. Roy keep him in whatever 
position is the best for his own expelling attempts. Don't intervene yet." he shouted 
over the boy's loud strangling noises. "His color and consciousness level are still 
holding."

"Ma'am, how old is your son?" DeSoto asked, gently calming the boy with a 
supporting bear hug. He left his chin resting lightly in the boy's hair to
show him that he was still there close by.

"He's four.." she answered. "His name's Bobby."

"Bobby, you're doing real good. I know you're scared right now but your mom's still
right here beside you. Just keep coughing, hard as you can." Roy nodded as he 
watched the others move the rest of the audience chairs out of the way and cleared
some floor space under a light source. DeSoto loosened the child's dress pants belt 
buckle and used the move to get a respirations count. Gage took up a grip on one of
the boy's wrists for a pulse quality check. "Doc, it's one fifty. Rising."

Roy added another detail. "Twenty eight. Inspirations are more problematic than
exhalations. But he's not barreling out any, at all."

"Thanks." said Brackett from where he knelt on his knees listening to the boy's
breath sounds.

Dixie returned quickly. "Kel, they're on the way. Both the chalet's medical team and 
the local FD and ambulance company. The resort folks have oxygen."

"Perfect. Just what I wanted to hear. Where from and exactly when are they all due 
in?" Brackett asked, keeping a close eye on the boy as he struggled to breathe 
enough to fill his chest.

"The team? From the mountain top, on skis. ETA a minute and a half. They 
have radios tuned to the hotel front desk. Their El Dorado County rig is driving in 
with an ALS crew based out of Placerville Medical Center, a level two trauma 
facility in four, and the Meeks Bay Volunteer Fire Department will be roaring in 
here in three. They're based right around the corner on the point overlooking 
the lake." Dixie recited from a hotel stationery pad. "A Terry G. Murphy, is the 
M.D. on call tonight and the Base Hospital Coordinator is Tamara Burns, an 
R.N. He knows we're coming." she added.

"Okay. Good." Then Kel sat in a chair by the mother. "Ma'am, help's on the way 
so try to calm down. I need you to answer a few questions. Has Bobby been sick 
recently with a cold or flu?" he asked, thinking about the possibility of croup or 
epiglottitis.

"I'm not sure. Frank has the most time with him. He has partial legal custody. Um, 
I get Bobby only on the weekends. But I know my son doesn't have asthma. All this
is new tonight. Oh, G*d. Please, Bobby. Please be all right." she begged.

Dixie took her by the shoulders gently. "These two with Bobby are the best 
paramedics we have back in L.A. and they work everyday handling emergencies 
just like this one. They'll make sure Bobby stays breathing and they'll fix anything
they find that's not going normally as soon as it happens. So relax and try to
answer Dr. Brackett's questions as thoroughly as you can. It's important." said 
McCall, taking the mother's hand. "We have to know for sure what the problem is 
here so we don't cause any more that we haven't found out about yet, to act up in 
a worse way."

Johnny felt the boy's head and face. "Doc, he's not hot at all. Nor is he shocky."

Kel nodded. "Look for signs of growing anaphylaxis anyway. This might be a 
first time onset, just beginning."

"Or a food obstruction." Roy guessed. 

Brackett regarded DeSoto thoughtfully, thinking. "Keep an eye out for a foreign 
body appearing in his mouth. Yours was my original thought, too. There's a 
basket of pretzels sitting right here."

"Right, doc." they both answered.

A few seconds later, the boy began gagging weakily and his wheezes 
suddenly dropped off horribly into silence.

"Bobby?!" Roy yelled, as the child start to panic kick. "He's blocked off
completely, Johnny."

"Got him?" Johnny asked.

"Yeah.."

And Roy started to perform sub-diaphragmatic abdominal thrusts in a modified
force-careful Heimlich maneuver with two gripped palms laced near the boy's 
navel. 

Kel Brackett shot up out of his chair. "Roy, keep at it. Gage, a minute after he 
goes unconscious, let's move him to our dining room table so we can use 
those Magills. When we get him over there, tip his head back over the edge 
after a ventilation and re-positioning attempt. Use those forceps only if you 
see something."

"Aghh.. doc. He's going out.." Roy hissed.
Bobby's muscles began to noodle and Roy slid him down his body onto
the floor. He shifted his clearing maneuvers from his bear hug to
leg straddling abdominal ones once Marco had carefully lowered the
boy's head to neutral on his back. After the third attempt of clearing 
with the boy lying down, they all heard a gush of sound erupt out Bobby's 
lips. "Something gave way." DeSoto said urgently.

Quickly, Johnny, Cap and Stoker scooped up the blue turning boy and 
hurried with him across the room. Hank cleared the remaining dishes 
noisily out of the way with a sweep of his arm. Brackett joined them.

Chet Kelly looked up and saw two flares growing larger through the windows
framing the overview looking up the snow covered mountain. "Here they
come. And they're fully laden."

"I'll go meet them at the fire exit across the room." said Marco, stepping away
to meet the outdoor first aid team.

"Disable the fire alarm before you open the door. Last thing we need is an
inadvertant hotel evacuation." Hank said.

"It's off." said Marco, using a rod from a no smoking sign to depress the
cancel button on the door unit's shrieker. He propped it open with a chair and
began letting in the cold night air and falling snowflakes. The team skied right 
into the carpetted room on top of the snow they were dragging underneath their 
treads. 

The head first aider pulled off his goggles. "Thanks, mister. Close it up. This
is everybody." he said of himself and his female partner as he peeled off his
large medical backpack. They rapidly got out of their parkas and kicked off
their skis haphazardly next to the restaurant fireplace using their ski poles.

Roy met them halfway. "It's the boy. Get out your manual support O2. 
He's food choking." he said, pushing chairs out of their way.

"Who are you people exactly?" asked the man. 

"Two paramedics, a nurse and a doctor. This is Bobby's mother." DeSoto
told him.

"Ok, let's go handle him." said the leader. "I'm a paramedic, too. My
partner's an EMT Basic."

"These others are firefighters." Roy clarified even more.

"Man, is he lucky." said the woman. "How's he doing?" she
said, digging into her pack for airway gear.

"Don't know yet." replied Roy.

Mike Stoker looked up from the hold he had on the boy's head. "Repositioning's
not working.......... No chest rise either." he said, lifting his mouth away from
the boy's nose and hypoxia darkened mouth. Together, he and Johnny 
dragged Bobby towards them by the back of his shirt collar until his head 
tipped chin up over the edge of the table and hung down limply. 

"He's still got a pulse." Hank said, gripping the boy's upper arm. Then he watched
as Marco grabbed a nearby table lamp and pulled off its tasseled shade down 
to the bare bulb. "No response to pain." Cap said digging in a few knuckles against
Bobby's sternum as he climbed up onto the table to straddle the boy's legs with his
knees. He placed his hands in a ready position for further abdominal thrusts,
paused for the word to start up on them again.

"Wait up on those, Cap. Let me look next." Johnny told Cap.

"Johnny..." Roy prompted.

"Whaa?"

"Did you hear?"

"Oh. Yeah. I did. Ok, fully unconscious. Apneic only. Marco, put 
that light right behind my shoulder. Yeah, just like that." Gage said as he 
snatched the Magills out of the Cracker Jack box swiftly. No one noticed the 
popped sugar corn spraying out all over the table in haste as it tipped over 
onto its side. Johnny opened Bobby's jaws wide with cross scissored fingers 
as he peered inside behind the boy's soft palate. "Mike lift his lower jaw and 
his tongue way up high. I can't see anything."

Mike did so, with a hooked thumb and pressure whitening fingers, firmly 
pinching.

"Starting cricoid pressure in case we make him sick monkeying with his
mouth." Cap said, reaching his thumb and forefinger around the boy's neck
cartilage ring in a Sellick's maneuver. He bore down on it an inch, then
he didn't move.

Brackett moved over to the medical team. "Do you have suction?"

"Yes. Blue pack." replied the woman. "In the largest compartment. 
Laerdal self powered. You must be our doc, eh?"

"I am, until you reach yours over the radio. Let me know when you've got 
that tube out. Stand by with a demand valve. Johnny gets one try to pull 
whatever this thing is out. Then we'll work him more. He's been totally 
obstructed for only two minutes." Brackett told them. "We still have time. 
Pulse's holding. Could one of you two monitor that apically? Here, use 
mine. It's already out." he said tugging his stethoscope off from around 
his neck to give to them.

The male first aider took it.

Then they moved nearer to Roy and Gage.

The woman used a few waiting seconds to open up the boy's shirt 
the rest of the way, exposing his cyanosis mottled chest. "Still no breathing."
she announced to the unfamiliar Native American at the boy's head.
"Ok, suction's ready."

"Almost there." Gage said, tense. "It's right.. above... the vocal cords."

"What is it?" she asked.

"A button. Without any holes."

"Can you grab it?" Brackett asked helping to hold the boy's shoulders
still. 

"Yeah. I think so.. Hang on while I...." Johnny grunted, adjusting the Magills
gripping shaft a little deeper into the boy's throat. "..I almost....got...a ..
grip on it. "

"Pulse's getting irregular." announced the mountain first aider man,
from where he was listening with his stethoscope's drum placed 
a little to the side and below the boy's left breast along the ribcage.

Brackett barked out an order.
"Set up a monitor and your defibrillator. Can you adjust down to a 100 
joules delivery?" 

"Yes." replied the woman. "We handle pediatric drownings during the 
summers."

"Turn it on. I won't use it unless I have to. He's a little on the 
small side." Brackett said. "What kind of meds do you have?"

"Type three ACLS drug box." replied the man.

"Get a 0.5 mg/ml dose of a 1:1000 S.Q. epinephrine injection ready. We'll save
his I.V. NS for last and establish one only if he crashes fully rhythm wise." Kel 
said.

Johnny let out the breath he had been holding explosively.
"Cap, let him go. It's out." Gage announced loudly, drawing the offending object
away from the boy's mouth on his Magills.  "And he didn't vomit."

Stanley sighed in relief as he climbed down to the floor again.

"I got him covered." said the woman EMT as she placed a small firm rubber
mask over the boy's face and started feeding breaths into the boy. "Nice job. 
Buttons are real hard." she remarked to Johnny. "I'm getting good chest rise
here." she told everyone as she used the resort's thumb trigger resuscitator
with the lightest of pure oxygen ventilations. "No distention evident."

Bobby's colored pinked up and his fingers began to twitch on the table cloth.
A minute later, the boy began to breathe on his own with occasional coughing.
 
"How is he?" Bobby's mother asked, her voice hitching as she fretted.

"Ma'am. It looks like he's going to be just fine. He's already waking up for us."
smiled Dr. Brackett as he studied the EKG monitor Marco had hooked up.
"Everything's reading normally for this particular stage of recovery. Guys,
let's cancel that epinephrine. He won't be needing it."

The resort paramedic pulled out his radio."Team Ouray to Meeks Bay Rescue
Medic Three. Return. Situation is resolved. No cardiac arrest. Our ambulance is 
en route."

##We copy you, Ouray.## said the dispatcher. ##Placer County Sheriff's Office, 
Lake Tahoe, ST-51 signing off.##

"Want this as a souvenir?" Chet asked as he prised the button off the clamped 
Magills. He held it out to mom with puppy dog eyes, breaking the last of her 
tension.

The mother tumbled into relief, holding up her son's chair perched outer 
coat. "It's from his dress jacket. I knew I should have gotten him some gum.
He's always likes chewing on things. Ever since he was a baby." she said, taking
it to put in the coat's pocket for later resewing.

Cap offered the mother a chair and a glass of water. "He might be old enough
now to get a piece of gum every so often. I know I started my kids off on some
at about his age for the same reason. My daughter was the worst. She liked 
sucking on grapes of all things. Calling the rescue squad became a weekly routine 
for a while there until she outgrew it." He held out his hand. "Hi, I'm Captain Stanley, 
Hank's my first, of Fire Station 51 in Carson. I believe you already met my men. 
This is Chet, Marco, Roy, Johnny and Mike."

"Glad to meet all of you. I don't know what I would have done if you hadn't have
been here." she said, beginning to weep again as she returned the handshake.
"I'm Annabel Laughs-At-Cranes."

Johnny's head lifted at the name as he recognized her nationality. "Oh, you're
Native? So am I. But I'm not a full blood, I'm only half." he grinned, watching
as Roy and the female resort EMT took a blood pressure on Bobby. He 
was now being supported upright in DeSoto's lap as he blinked back into 
full wakefulness. Soon, he was placed on a regular pediatric non-rebreather 
oxygen mask as his fast breathing began to slow down again.

"I'm a quarter." she replied. "And Bobby's an eighth. We were celebrating his
tribe naming day this evening. And it was wonderful, but then this happened to 
mess it up." she sobbed. 

Cap gripped her shoulder and squeezed it in support.
"It's all right. Go ahead and cry. Sometimes things are just meant to be, that's all."
Cap told her with a grin. "In this case, things worked out just fine."

"I'm sorry. I--"

"..Mommy?" asked the boy as he suddenly regained focus. "My throat hurts."
he mumbled through the mask Roy was holding over his nose and mouth.

Annabel broke off her sentence and rushed over to sit on the table edge
so she could hug her son tightly. "Oh, baby. You had me so worried. 
How are you feeling now?"

"Ok, I guess." he said as he felt himself placed in his mother's arms by
Roy and Marco and getting covered up with a spare table cloth.

"Why did you have to suck on that button? I've told you a 
million times what might happen if you did that." she said, brushing
sweaty hair out of his eyes.

"I won't do it again. I promise..*cough** cough*" Bobby said. "Can we go
up to our hotel room now?"

Dr. Brackett had been speaking with the two resort rescuers. "Annabel, this
is Paramedic Ryan Shreve and his EMT partner Nicole Skoloda. They work here
for Meeks Bay Resort on the ski patrol. They've been in touch with their medical
director via radio and they've certain protocols they have to follow now to ensure the
continued well being of your son. Would you listen to them for a few minutes?
They're the ones who'll be taking over Bobby's emergency treatment now."

"Sure. Sure.." she sniffled. "I can do that. What do they have to say to me?"

"They'll tell you. I'm not that familiar with how their medical service functions
with regard to medical releases or transporting patients in this part of the
state. That's probably most likely what they're going to be talking to you 
about. All right?"

"Ok." said Annabel. "And thank you so much." she said tearfully grateful, 
gripping Kel's hand. "Bobby, stay right here with these firemen.
I'll be right back, okay?"

"Okay mom. I'm sort of tired anyway."

She turned to meet her snowy benefactors.

Chet ambled up to Cap, Roy and Johnny. "So, how's the little guy doing?"

"He's gonna be ok." said Roy, grinning. "He was very lucky that button
didn't get deep inside a lung somewhere."

"Yeah, that would have meant chest cracking surgery." Gage sympathized.

"Really? Huh. Ouch." said Kelly, thinking about it as he rubbed his own.
The three started walking away, but Chet held them back with a hand.
"Say, you'll never guess what I just overheard on one of their radios."

"What'd ya hear?" Hank asked.

"The call number of their station headquarters in Tahoe City."

"Oh, yeah? What was it?" asked Johnny. "007's?" he snickered.

"No. Get out. It was Station 51, man. Same as ours." Chet shared 
creepily.

"For real?" Gage gaped.

"Yeah, go ask that Nicole chick if you don't believe me." Kelly said. 
"You like her, don't you? I can tell."  he winked.

Johnny shot him a dirty look and shooed him away to go watch for
the ambulance attendants arrival to their dining room.

Kelly stopped in his tracks when he spied a fresh red cloth covered
serving tray jack parked neatly at the entrance leading into the dining 
room. 

On it, was a brand new Cracker Jacks box, already opened and ready 
for eating. ::Oh, geez-- ! Now I got two prizes!:: he thought excitedly.
::You help somebody out of a rough spot and you can literally
plan on getting rewarded every time. That's the name of the game.:: 
he celebrated, grabbing it up and munching happily.

------------------------------------------------

Photos: None.

*********************************************
From: Patti or Jeff or Cassidy <theaterhost@voyagerliveaction.com> 
Portions tandem written with J. Katz <kajakat@hotmail.com> 
or Judy Theis <jukier@gmail.com> about four years ago.  
Date: Fri Mar 30, 2007 9:24 am 
Subject: Powder Service.. 

Johnny scrubbed his hair down well after his shower the next
morning in Roy, Chet and his's hotel room. "You know, that team we
met last night? They were really well prepared. I've never even heard
of a ski patrol trained in at the ACLS paramedic level."

Kelly scoffed, brushing his teeth at the sink. "What? You think all they
should have are a couple of leg splints, a toboggan stretcher and
a St. Bernard carrying a keg of brandy around his neck?"

"No... Geez, Chet. I mean I thought the fire department was the only
service who had some of us working for them." he said, passing a hand
between him and Roy to mean paramedics.

Roy was sitting on one of the beds pulling on some clean wool socks.
"And why not private businesses, too? The fire department doesn't hold
the only monopoly on getting near sick and hurt people. It was bound to 
happen someday. They probably even planned it that way. Quite frankly, 
I'm glad paramedic services are starting to branch out. And I think 
I saw it coming, too. I read about a new kind of paramedic team answering a 
medical emergency on a fishing trawler way out at sea."

"Oh, yeah? Who were they with?" Kelly asked.

"The Coast Guard." DeSoto replied.

"Nice. They get to fly, what, almost every day? Just picture the kinds of calls
they get." Johnny said with admiration. "Burns, trauma, sudden foreign illnesses,
food born related ailments, trench foot."

"Trench foot?" asked Kelly.

"Well, yeah. Don't fishermen stand in brine for most of the day catching fish?"
Gage wondered.

Roy rubbed his nose sleepily. "Johnny, I think that might be a stereotype.
You're thinking about World War 1."

Johnny nodded at the correction. "I am? Oh."

"Huh, I still think Johnny's nuts to stay shocked that we're no longer the only 
service paramedic bound." Kelly concluded, throwing on his ski jacket. He 
gathered up his ski boots and rentals along with poles and made for the door. 
"See you guys, later."

"Wait a minute. Wait a minute, Chet. Did you remember your room key?!"
Gage shouted, but the door had already resounded with a solid thud as
it slammed shut in its housing. "He'll never learn." he said, holding up
the third electronic key card into the mirror so Roy could see it.

"The room's in his name. He can always get a new one swiped in at the front
desk." DeSoto suggested, tying on his boots. "I'm ready to start heading out
myself."

Johnny, still in his bathing towel, smirked. "Huh, now just where are you off to
so fast? I know you don't like to ski almost as much as Dixie does."

"I'm going hiking in Desolation. Doctor Brackett is coming with me."

"In isolation?"

"No, Johnny. In Desolation. Desolation Wilderness. 
That's the name of the natural area they've set aside for just 
the animals and backpacking hikers. No vehicles are allowed inside  
a hundred square miles surrounding this entire place. We've booked 
a guided tour up Meeks Bay Trailhead. It's gonna be just the three of us."

"Oh, yeah? How far is that going to be? Sounds like it's bound to get 
a little rough and tough."

DeSoto shrugged. "I've already talked to a few locals...
They say it's just a moderate hike that takes you along the northern most 
part of the unofficial Tahoe-Yosemite Trail. After following a road for 
approximately 1.3 miles, the trail passes a small spring, parallels Meeks 
Creek and continues upward into a forested valley. A chain of alpine lakes 
runs alongside of you before the trail ascends 1,000 feet up a series of 
switchbacks leading to Phipps Pass. All total about 22 miles round trip."

"Sounds kinda snowy."

"It is, this time of year. But the rangers are saying there are no storms in 
sight for up there. At least, not until later tonight. We're gonna get up to the 
starting point by alpine ski lift. Wanna come? They allow horses from the 
resort's stables to come along. All they have to do is carry a few safety packs.
We're gonna have a mule with us doing the same thing."

"Nah, I think I'm gonna copy Chet's idea and.. go on a few runs. Those 
ski slopes out there are sounding mighty appealing right about now." 
Johnny said, thinking about Nicole of the Ouray Mountain Ski Patrol.

"Umm hmm, so she IS working today. I see. I think I get it." DeSoto teased,
throwing on his ski jacket and wool hat.

"What did you say?"

"Nothing. Have fun." Roy said, leaving the room. "And yes, I have my room key."
And with that, he left the room.

"Say, Roy.." Johnny began a little distractedly as he dried off his hair some more.
"Don't forget your room key.." he mumbled underneath his head towel.

-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Mike Stoker was in seventh heaven. He figured he had everything just 
about perfect in their campsite within the heart of the Desolation Wilderness
Park.  He and Marco were roughing it on the gang's collectively rented 
camping spot, Peg 51.

The rows of pines framing the snowy mountains were a picture postcard vision. 
The lake was a crystalline jewel, and the air, like crisp cold wine.

Now, even the wind was perfect, blowing his cooking fire's smoke away 
from their two winter tents, and already five huge speckled trout sizzled 
on the pan.

Stoker chuckled.

It was a running joke between all of them on A shift how their shared ski vacation 
spot had even been located. Marco laughed, remembering the kindly sheriff that
Roy and Johnny had met on a wild weekend of off duty rescues a few years ago.

Then, the sheriff promised the two L.A. paramedics a good fishing spot in return 
for their unofficial duty time donated to Santa Rosa County, after they had spent 
the better part of their only two vacation days saving a badly burned boat accident 
victim and then a rock climbing teen.

The sheriff had showed them a map of this place, Peg 51. And the rest of the gang 
fell absolutely in love with "The Spot." Eventually, they dragged most of Rampart's
Emergency staff and their families to camp there over subsequent winters until all 
of them were caught up inside The Spot's special magic, too. The park officials 
got very used to writing down, 'Peg 51. Reserved, for Station 51' in their reservation 
logs.

But Stoker knew that one weekend was always reserved for Roy and Johnny exclusively.
The anniversary of Roy and Johnny's fateful Santa Rosa fishing weekend, the day they 
had met the kindly Sheriff and shared bowls of cabin cafe chili with him in the park's 
lodge. They had created a new mutual tradition of fishing, hang gliding, hiking and 
relaxing for the occasion.

Stoker took in a deep breath of the heady scent of the Ponderosa pines and fresh ice 
and sighed. He remembered back to the conversation that he had overheard about 
twenty hours earlier, as he flipped succulent fillets around on their sticks. The fire before 
him was crackling almost as much as the crunching snow beneath his feet. "Hey Marco, 
lunch's ready."

But a snore peeled out from behind him, making Mike smile.

-----------------------------------

Stoker thought back in time.. to the locker room at Station 51.

It was only yesterday morning, that Roy wasn't keen to go up to The Spot even 
when Johnny reminded him of their usual additional camping reservation. "Don't tell me 
you forgot about the thing we do, too, during our big ski trip weekend, Roy."

"No. I didn't forget. I just... changed my mind that's all. It's October. The nights 
are going to be really cold up there. We've had a really hellish week with fire calls 
and I'm too sore to hang glide decently. And your lungs are still a little too sooty. 
So, no. I..don't want to go up that far this time...I just want to hang around
the fringes closest to the resort. So go ahead give the tag to Stoker and Lopez. 
It's their turn to get away up there anyway. Besides, I wanna just coast physically." 
he lied.

"Come on, Roy.."  John said as they changed out of their uniforms for street clothes. 
"A-shift's ended. And I know you didn't do anything else big this week. Joanne and the 
kids are with Grandma DeSoto in Utah." he guessed.

Roy looked at his partner in surprise. "How'd you find that out?"

John smiled, saying nothing, tapping his temple significantly.

DeSoto smiled, "Clairvoyant, huh? Oh, I see. More likely you drove by the house and 
saw the usual strewn bikes and basketballs cleaned up out of the yard and the 
missing station wagon on your way to the coffee shop."

John's triumphant smile fell. "How'd you know that?" he said, buttoning up his plaid 
shirt.

It was Roy's turn to tap his forehead secretively. He waited a minute before letting 
Johnny off the hook. "I heard your jeep backfire as you kicked it into third gear when
you drove by this morning.... Unmistakable sound, that. Woke the neighbor, too. Crazy 
old Mr. Fosche called me at five oh two, three seconds after I was jolted out of bed. He 
was thoroughly convinced that a flying saucer from Area 51 was crash landing down the 
block."

Johnny ignored the odd neighbor angle. "My jeep doesn't backfire.. I keep it perfectly 
tuned." Gage insisted.

"Tell that to the average Joe who hears you driving by and you might hear a different 
story.." Roy grinned.  "Besides, you got that ticket from the officer pulling you over for 
disturbing the peace..."

It was John's turn to be surprised, "How'd you find out about that?!"

"I looked outside my bedroom window and saw the red and blues go off behind your 
tail lights. Had a h*ll of a time convincing Mr. Fosche that you two weren't the UFO 
he thought he heard crash landing..."

Gage's face got redder and redder. "Yeah, well it was Vince, and I got only a warning, 
see?" and he waved the pink warning ticket in his partner's face from his shirt pocket. 
"Nothing to worry about. We can still hike up north. So why are you really getting cold 
feet and suddenly changing your mind about us two going on that side trip?"

"I'll tell you why. I didn't get any down time this week work wise and yeah, I literally 
have cold feet. My shoes are still wet from yesterday's warehouse fire. Again, it's 
October, like I told ya.. I don't want to catch cold and...I want some solid sleep for
once." Roy said ticking off points on his fingers..

"I can drag up the hammock...It's totally comfortable.." Gage interjected..

"....in a warm bed..."

"I got an old Indian trick using heated stones from a fire to keep that hammock 
nice and toasty."

"....with solid food...."

"Since when have you known The Spot to skunk us trout wise? We'll eat like 
kings!"

"... and nobody around to bug me." And he stared significantly at his talkative 
paramedic partner.

Johnny was quiet at that.. "I'll ...I'll give you the first day to play the hermit. I can go 
off and do my shaman's thing early and you can sway in that hammock to your heart's 
content... Later, we can do our winter hang gliding thing, ok?"

"Us?.. Doing a hang gliding thing? I thought I was your official cliffside spotter. I 
haven't been in the air that way in ten years." he said incredulously.

"Come on..  Come fly. I changed my mind about climbing that frozen waterfall."

"Nope."

It was Johnny's turn to narrow his eyes. " I guess that ol' wedding band has made 
your left hand a little too heavy on the flight bar, eh?"

"Yep."

"Ok. All right. You don't have to fly. I can fly solo for the both of us. What about 
the rest of it? What do you say...?" And Gage shot Roy his best, crooked smile.

Roy's expression fell dead pan and serious. "Absolutely not. Have fun on your own.
If you don't wanna do that, give The Spot to them."

-----------------------------------------------

And so it was, two days later, Marco and Stoker found themselves deep within The 
Spot inside Desolation Wilderness. ::What a name.:: Stoker thought. ::It so doesn't
fit the place.:: he thought to himself.

Lopez was still doing the 'hammock'ville rock'. One snore for every rocking pass.
There was only five hours of daylight left to them. Barely enough time to do a little 
exploring overland, and the returning hike back into their main camp.

Mike's growling stomach returned immediately when he thought about the time 
of day.

So Mike shoved the frying pan off the fire, where sweet smelling trout and hickory 
popped and sizzled in their juices.. and sauntered over to where Marco 
snoozed under the pines within the canvas hammock, bundled in a down sleeping
bag."Sleeping beauty...." he teased. And he waved the pan of mouth-watering trout 
under his coworker's frosted nose.

But Marco only sawed wood from underneath his wool jacketed arm.

::Nothing.:: Stoker thought. ::Should have brought some smelling salts.::
Grinning, Mike decided to give him twenty minutes more of napping. ::Just
enough time for me to get these pinion nuts roasted enough to go with the 
cornbread.:: he decided.

He retreated back to the fire, weaving around the brightly assembled hang glider 
of Johnny's in between their cold weather tents.

Mike Stoker sat down on The Spot's rock by the iced over beach and sighed, 
studying the perfect blue sky above him while he cooked.

Another twenty minutes went by and Mike found he still didn't have the heart to 
wake his friend.  Not everyone had his endless amount of energy and Marco, he 
couldn't fault.  Stoker knew how tired the whole crew had been that week after
pulling Johnny out of the warehouse fire with his hide intact.

Mike took the cooked fish and wrapped them in aluminum foil and placed them in 
the cooler.  Hot fish, cold fish, it didn't matter. They would still taste good.
And he and Lopez were finally away from the world for some well-earned time off.

Stoker took a deep breath filling his lungs with the crisp winter air. ::I need coffee.:: 
he thought. He went to the cooking gear and took out the coffee and the stove top 
percolator.  It would take several minutes for Mike to get the coffee going so he sat 
down near the fire and watched it as it slowly warmed up on the roaring wood fire.
 
::I guess I won't be taking any photos today.  Maybe tomorrow I'll get a chance to do it.  
And that ledge way up there is just perfect.:: he planned, studying the peak near them.

The coffee was soon done so Stoker took his mug and reached for the pot.  However, 
his aim was off due to the altitude and he knocked the hot kettle off the grate and onto 
the snowy ground. He wasn't able to move his feet out of the way in time and the 
steaming beverage poured out onto a booted ankle and foot, soaking in between
the laces.

"SH*T!"  Stoker dropped his mug and instinctively reached for his leg.
"D*mm*t.  OUCH!"  Mike took off his glove and began to unlace his hiking boot.  
After taking his sock off, Mike saw redness on his left ankle down to his instep. 
He grabbed a handful of snow to melt and started dripping it over the area through 
a fire warmed glove. Stoker tried to right the kettle, but still distracted, he burned 
his bare right hand for forgetting to use the pot holder. "Ow,,, not again! What 
is wrong with me?" he said angrily out loud.

Marco heard the commotion coming from the campfire.  Rubbing his eyes, he 
slowly awakened from his slumber.  He moved awkwardly to get out of the hammock.  
Ungraceful as it was, Lopez finally managed to get up and over to Mike, who 
continued to swear.

Marco looked down at his friend.  "What did you do?"

Looking up with pure disgust on his face, Mike pointed to his left foot.  
"This is what I did.  I burned my foot with the hot coffee." 

Marco bent down and looked at the scald. "Looks like a first degree burn.  We 
should have some cream in the first aid kit and some aspirin. I'll go get it."  
Lopez stretched his arms behind his back, still trying to wake himself. "Man,
I feel like I've been drugged."

"That's the fresh winter air working on us. There's no smog up here. And
maybe because of the altitude." Stoker mused.

"Us? Acting weird at four thousand feet? We're not up that high." Marco
insisted mildly. Lopez chuckled sleepily and slowly plodded over to their 
backpacks and took out the first aid kit.  He dropped it next to Stoker, still 
rubbing his face. "I think this is just the weight of...*yawn* fire duty sliding 
off our shoulders."

"Maybe. Any saline in there?"  Mike asked.

"Nope."

"This really hurts." Stoker said, eyeing up Marco.

Lopez froze his expression and tried not to get mad. "I know it hurts and 
it's gonna hurt more.  You can pour melted snow on it to numb it up a little 
and then put on the burn cream."  Lopez took the salve out and handed 
it to him.

"I know that! Geez!"  Stoker grabbed the tube from Marco's hand.  

"Tomar las cosas con calma. Ay!" Lopez exclaimed, still turning Mike's 
leg around to look at it.

"Sorry, Marco. It's uncomfortable."

Marco set his parka'd hands on his hips. "Lemme go get a towel to wet in 
the stream to make you a cold pack. That should work even better. 
The burned area's not that big."

"No, it's not. But I think it's on my heel, too."

Marco stood up and stretched again.  He picked up his canteen and emptied the 
contents while he walked down to the stream.  The water was almost as cold as the 
surrounding snow and steaming in the frigid air. The afternoon's chill was coming 
in.  After half a minute, Marco returned with the water.

"I can boil the rest of this, Mike. Let it cool so we can use it as a sterile 
compress solution for your burn if that starts to peel open on you. Go ahead 
and put the cream on and take two aspirin." He regarded Stoker thoughtfully. 
"Huh. On second thought, maybe YOU want the hammock now."  he teased.

"Very funny." Mike grumbled. "I want to go shoot a couple of rolls of film."

"You still can. Once this is treated and dressed. This won't hold you back
unless you let it." Lopez poured the water into a pan and placed it on the grate 
protecting the open campfire. "With this weather, Mike, the water will cool back down
in a couple of minutes after I shove the pan into the snow. Until then, lemme help 
you up off that cold ground."

Stoker stood up on one leg and with Lopez's help, he hobbled over to the 
hammock and got inside of the sleeping bag to dry off his slacks. He left 
his bare foot exposed to the colder air out one side and on top of the bag.

Marco was putting a clean cloth under Mike's foot when he noticed red 
blotches on his hand. "What happened here?"

"I still wanted the coffee and didn't realize the pot was still hot."

Lopez made a face, bent over to scoop up some snow into his glove, 
and he piled it high on top of the second burn, leaving it there to melt.  
"Wanna leave?"

"No. We just got here. Keep that radio turned off and packed away."

"Suit yourself. A sled ride down the mountain might be kinda fun."
Lopez joked.

"Not with a ski patrol. Not in the mood."

Marco just smiled.

Stoker wasn't amused. He was stressed. And from more than one 
kind of burnout. "Marco, it's just not my day. Not at all. How am I gonna 
go skiing tomorrow?" he moaned.

"These'll calm down by then. Like sunburn." Lopez told him,
eyeing up their cooling progress. "They're nothing."

"I hope you're right." said Stoker, covering up his face with his ski cap's
brim to cut down the sun's glare. Shifting in the hammock, Mike got comfortable 
and put his other arm over his face. In a few minutes, Stoker fell asleep
while trying to keep the irritating skin pain out of his mind.

----------------------------------------------------------- 

Photos: None.

**************************************************
From: Patti or Jeff or Cassidy <theaterhost@voyagerliveaction.com> 
Date: Fri Mar 30, 2007 5:37 pm 
Subject: The White Terror.. 

Captain Stanley was having the time of his life. And he
wasn't in the ski resort. He was kicking it back, and relaxing a 
while, talking shop with his perfect working rural counterpart. 

"My men are going to kill me if they found out that I was here." 
he said to Meeks Bay's fire captain as he accepted a mug of 
steaming coffee on the glassed-in pine wood balcony overlooking 
the tiny cabin like fire station's driveway.

"Tell em, ...you got lost in the woods somewhere." chuckled
Tim Eihausen as he fingered a leaf on the bamboo shoot
growing out of a glass of water on the hand painted table
between them. It looked incongruously at home in the sunlight
against the backdrop of the bright bursts of snow falling from
all the pine tree boughs nestled around them as a soft winter
wind liberated its weight from their needles. "Captains are entitled
to the occasional station tour, too. It's..." Tim broke off, gathering
"almost a rite of passage that goes with the position."

Cap looked dubious.

"Look at it this way." said Tim, spooning in the two spoonfuls of
artificial creamer that Hank had said he wanted into his cup. "Who
else do we have with whom we can confide in, except ourselves?"

Stanley began to smile, studying the medals and letters of commendation
framed on the knotty pine walls above resort town school kids drawings
of appreciation.

"Am I right?" Eihausen egged on, smacking Hank's forearm.

Hank nodded and began to stir his coffee thoughtfully as he leaned
back on his chair legs and cleared his throat self consciously.

Tim went on, still smiling with carefree abandon.
"This isn't about them and what they might think. This is about you, finding 
yourself a good time, regardless. That's what vacation is all about."
he said with a sweep of his hand. "None of you are on duty right now. So
stop acting like you are." he grinned.

Cap burst out laughing, finally reassured. He leaned forward on his seat
and whispered confidentially as a vollie firemen climbed up the brass fire 
pole to their level to take a reading on the tiny weather station perched 
outside their expansive bay window on a shelf. "I did feel like a goose
in the hen house at the resort. Skiing feels like it's from Mars."

"It does." agreed Tim. "Until you get used to it."

"For me? That answer's gonna be never. Why I ambled up the road is to 
learn more about your ski patrol set up. It's fascinating! Mobile rescue? 
Without a truck? I have to admit I'm more than a little curious to see what 
it's all about. Oceans and asphalt freeways, and brambled canyon cliffs, 
I understand for settings. But working in snow?" and he leaned his chin 
on an elbow perched next to his coffee cup.

"Tire chains are everything. We've a Quint rigged up with them. Wanna see?"

"Just try and hold me back."

-----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Captain Stanley was impressed how the mountain station's equipment and trucks, 
a little on the old side, had been modified into alpine configurations. ::And on a 
modest budget, too.:: he realized. ::Their overhead must be phenomenal.::

"What are your rates for your medics? It's novel that you run them out of
modular box ambulances instead of rescue squad trucks." Cap said.

"It's a matter of environmental conditions. We need a safe, heated
place in which to treat people. It's warm where you are. So you usually don't
need the shelter. The grand out of doors, is usually enough. You guys don't even
get that much rain. I've seen some of your fire engines down there. Why don't those 
Crowns have any roofs?" he asked curiously. 

Hank joked. "We like to work on our tans." he quipped.

Tim laughed good naturedly. 
"We don't have that luxury nine months out of the year. This rig," he said, slapping 
a hand on Medic Three's green and white side. "is a whole entire room of intensive 
care equipment, on wheels, always kept at eighty degrees Fahrenheit, no matter
what the temperature is outside."

"Expensive?" Hank asked, raising his eyebrows.

"No more fuel expenditure than an extended length pumper or one of your
middle sized county ladder trucks. Here, we don't use those so much. No buildings
are higher than five stories out here. Modified sports utility vehicles with heavy 
suspensions are the way to go. We use the highway department with their cranes 
for any steep angle extrication work. CalTrans.They're our partners. There's some 
differences between our two fire departments. Everybody's a fully advanced trained 
high angle mountain climbing instructor as well as a cutting edge fire jumper."

"Wow. I had no idea."

"Think about it. We've little or no level ground to work on, except along laid
pavement and we've a thousand times the tinder factor than do the lowlands,
anywhere." Tim laid out.

"That you do. I've never seen pine trees so tall. Or big."

"Some sequoias and thousand year bristlecones are still at the higher elevations."

Cap blew a low whistle. "Lightning risk must be sky high. Uh,.. no pun intended."
he said, holding out a hand.

Tim chuckled. "That's our number one fire cause. Right behind human negligence
at camping sites."

"Does the city rate your station billing?"

"No. We do. Solely on what kind of emergency medical services are rendered. 
Just above cost of operations. The city fund raises separately for some of our 
salaries and supplements with volunteer crew to keep up affordability for our area's 
permanent residents.  El Dorado County's ambulance rate schedule, is this: 
Our advance life support's base rate is $752, for emergency or non-emergency calls.
ALS Level 2 for any resuscitation in combination with our second basic life support
rig is $1,089. Our mileage is market rate. Facility waiting time per quarter hour, is
$175."  

Tim pulled down a clipboard hanging on the wall next to the idling snow tire chained
Quint and flipped around a few pages. "My medics use this for reference when filing
their paperwork. "Let's see. Oxygen use is market rate, ambulance standby per
hour, is $129 with all critical care transports topping off at $1,287 for everything if
invasive procedures are utilized, such as intubation, cricothorocotomy, I.C. pace
makers.." he shrugged. "Oh, and the medical supplies and drugs are at market
cost + 15%"

"Not bad. Insurance covers most of it for most people, right?"

"Right. Usually it whacks off eighty percent of the total for the patient."

"How do you classify your base ratings? Everybody's service is different, depending 
on the county so I hear." Cap said.

"It sure is.. This is ours. The ALS emergency base rate is charged for all ambulance
transports in which an emergency Code 3 response, lights and siren, was
required, or emergency treatment rendered, or any type of advanced life support
procedure was involved."

"You mean that to be any active physical resuscitation and intravenous medication 
courses?" Hank wanted to know.

"Yes. Any respiratory or cardiac arrest or hemorrhage reduction treatments." Tim
clarified. "Now, our ALS non emergency base rate is charged for non-emergency
transfers which can be scheduled from a private residence, nursing facility, or
hospital and not requiring an emergency response. Wheelchair transports,
para and quadraplegic intrafacility trips, etc. Last of all our  ALS Level 2 is a charge 
that applies when there has been a medically necessary administration of at least 
three different medications or the provision of one or more of the following ALS 
procedures: manual defibrillation/cardioversion, endotracheal intubation, central 
venous line, cardiac pacing, chest decompression, surgical airway, or 
intraosseous line."

"I don't think our rescue squad paramedics have some of those abilities yet."
he remarked thinking of Roy and Johnny.

"Don't worry. They're coming. The DOT and the AMA are using small town
scaled operations first and their fewer rescue call numbers to fine tune or
train up what paramedics can or might be able to do. These skills'll filter 
down to your big city para-men, have no fear. It's only a matter of time."

"Glad I'm not a paramedic." Hank joked.

"Me, too." said Tim. "Sounds a little bit too complicated for me. That is, all
of it, except for the paperwork. Give me simple CPR and mouth to mouth
followed up with a positive pressure oxygen tank, any day."

Cap laughed out loud, startling the resort fire station's cat, lounging on the
second story pinewood railing overlooking the pinewood garage. "You know,
somedays I feel exactly the same way." Hank shared. "How's the boy doing
that we helped out yesterday?"

"Back to sledding. Nicole, who's pulling slopes patrol with Ryan again today
said they saw him playing on Yellow Run with his mother in the kid safe 
area just before lunch."

"I'm happy he's all right. He sure had a close call yesterday."

"He sure did. Kids are funny though. They can be half dead and bounce
back in a couple of minutes. Amazes me every time whenever I see one 
of their fast recoveries from something that would kill an adult."

Hank nodded in agreement. "Say, which truck did those two take out? I can't
tell which one's not here from the melting treadmarks." he said, pointing to
the snow puddling out from earlier runs taken that morning, on the rustic 
cobble stone flooring.

"They didn't take any."

"Run that by again.." Stanley blinked. "Just how are they getting around if they
aren't driving? Your medic service area's fifty miles wide."
  
Tim's eyes lit up eagerly. "Hank, how are you in a pair of snowshoes?"
he wondered mischieviously.

Cap just gaped. "Well, I uh,.....ah.."

"I'll show you how they're doing it." Tim promised, irrepressible.

Cap wasn't one to shirk new things, he said. "Let's go." with an excited grin.

-------------------------------------------------------------------------------- 

Chet and Gage met up together accidently on a red single diamond at the
bottom of the ski lifts. 

Kelly shouted when he spied Gage just butt perching himself onto a chair
to go up to the next level. "Hey, Johnny. Give me a hand up!" he said,
tossing up his bundled skis and poles. Then he leaped just as the chair
lurched forward, beginning the ride.

Gage forearm grabbed Chet deftly and pulled him up to the seat next to him.
"Hey, glad you could make it. I thought you'd stay inside reading those
Harlequin romance novels with Dixie all morning long." he said lowering
the safety bar down in front of them and locking it shut.

"Nope.." said Kelly. "I just read a few chapters with her to keep her company.
But then she ran into this hunky guy and suddenly, it was like I wasn't even
there, pal."

Johnny's face fell around his ski goggles. "Does Dr. Brackett know about
any of this yet?"

"No. Why should he? It's not like they're dating or anything."

"Huh. That's funny. I always thought they were." Johnny mumbled to himself
as he held on to the control bar lowered in front of them as they dangled
their feet.

Chet was oblivious and he didn't seem to need any sunglasses.

::That's probably why he's got so many freckles.:: Gage thought in dismay.
::I wish I could freckle. A little. Me? I only darken. It's boring.:: he mused.

"Say, have you seen her yet?" Kelly said.

"Who?"

"Her, man. The blond babe with the bandaids."

"Oh. You mean Nicole?" Johnny said evasively, clipping on his skis so he'd
be able to jump off whenever some convenient ground decided to rise up 
once more underneath to meet them again. The last thing he wanted
was Chet moving in on his girl. "Nah, uh, not yet anyway."

Chet pointed back down towards the resort buildings. "Say, look who's
decided to make an appearance. Is that Dixie in that hot pink ski suit 
sitting by that umbrella'd heated bar table?"

Johnny chortled. "It sure is. I wonder if she's actually gonna try to ski some.
That'd be a reversal if I ended up rescuing her from a sprained ankle."

"She was kinda planning on preparing for that kind of thing the other
way around." Kelly said softly, leaning over the bar to start waving to her.

"What did you say?"

"Oh, nothing.." Kelly replied. "Look, she's spotted us. She's waving!"

Both the ski suited firemen waved back from their moving height,
ascending along the ski lift.

"Let's meet her at the bottom. Maybe we can give her lessons." Kelly
suggested.

Without answering, Johnny suddenly popped open the bar and leaped
off, falling down ten feet into the rich powder. Neatly, he caught himself
on his poles and began skiing downhill like a madman. 

It was then, Kelly spotted his target. ::Nicole. I can see the red cross on
the back of her snow suit from here. And Johnny's ahead of me..:: he
exclaimed.

Chet launched himself into the air, too, sliding off his lift seat neatly.
Only his landing, wasn't as smooth as Johnny's. He ended up tumbling
hard onto his butt and he dragged a few feet, numbing certain nether parts
until he regained good balance on his skiis."Ooo, that smarts. Gotta practice
that again a little later.." he said to himself as the chair traveling skiers above
him pointed and laughed at good naturedly at his clumsiness.

Behind him, he never noticed a simple booted Dixie McCall getting onto
the ski lift to join him. In her hand, was a pair of snowshoes.

Gage got to Nicole's side just as Chet cruised in, on a plume of fluffy frozen
powder. She was just pulling out her radio. "Hi guys. Funny meeting you here.
I was just about to get a progress report from Ryan about the slope conditions
up there." she said, pointing peakwards.

"Why?" said Johnny, grinning like a kid in a candy store."Something going on?"

"Not yet. But the Weather Service says there's a huge snow shelf forming above
A-9 because of some fair weather winds. We may have to shut this run down in 
a couple of minutes just to be on the safe side."

"Oh, really?" Gage stammered.

Kelly covered for him, and himself. "Can we come along?"

"Are you good?"

Johnny and Chet shared double looks of barely veiled innuendo with
each other in growing humor.

Nicole smacked both of their snowsuited shoulders. "I meant as skiers
wise guys."

"We're fair." replied Johnny, some of his calm personality returning.

"What we can't ski, we can climb. We work high angle all the time back
at home." Chet offered smartly.

Johnny slugged him for trying for brownie points. "She already knows that.." he
hissed between his teeth.

"Good enough for me." Nicole said planting a couple of skis into the hillside's
virgin snowbank next to the packed down run that other skiers were using
with high enjoyment. She pulled out her patrol radio. "Ryan? Status.."
she hailed crisply. "I'm at 8 spy 2, east side. Just below the cache."

##Doesn't look good. I've dug a pit and there's crystallization beginning
down at the base with a clearly demarcated glacial layer. Good chance she'll
give within the next four hours. I think we should raise the flag and close this
run down.##

"All right. I'm doing it. Any newbies higher than you? If they see the abandon
flag, they may panic and we might get stuck running a leg case down before
we can do a thorough enough safety sweep." Nicole told Ryan.

##Everybody seems to be cool. I've seen no wipeouts for at least twenty minutes.
I still say raise it now. I'm seeing blow off starting up at the peak and heavy curling.##

Nicole trusted her paramedic partner's instincts. Without a word to her two lingering
out of town guests, she leaped into calm action. Sliding horizontally across the
ski run, avoiding downhillers, she came to a dead eagle tree. From there, she
pulled on a rope and pulley, until a bright yellow and black checkered pennant rose to
its highest limb and began fluttering there. Then she turned resort-wards.

An answering cherry flare rose from spotters at the main lodgehouse to show they
acknowledged the emergency closing of A-9 as ordered by the ski patrol.

"What was that all about?" Gage asked catching up with her on his skis. He pulled
off his goggles to see downhill a little better. 

"Oh, that's just confirmation that the tote board is getting changed. Once we've got
A-9 cleared off, the demolition crew will start heading up there by staff lift to go
blow up that overhanging lip of snow buildup before it decides to avalanche
itself down on top of somebody." Nicole replied.

Kelly blanched. "You mean, we're all in danger right now?"

Nicole grinned. "Probably.." she said, enjoying his discomforture. But then
she let him off the hook. "No. Not where we are. We're safe as long as we don't
venture off the run over there." she said pointing towards an area of recently 
snapped off pine trees and aspen, bent chaotically like broken toothpicks 
pointed downslope. "That's the thunder alley for this season."

"Why do I get the feeling you don't mean a bowling lane?" Johnny said, his
face falling into a slight bit of fear.

"Because you understand what an avalanche path is. Most big city firefighters do
because they understand mud slides." she said smugly. "Come on. Let's go.
You can help me chase any lingerers downhill with these cherry flares. Here, 
put on these vests." she said handing out two of them that were red, bearing 
a white cross symbol emblazoned on the back. "Consider yourselves recruited. 
It'll take too long to round up staffers from the big house at the base."

-----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
Roy DeSoto, and Dr. Brackett were rounding off a curve with their
guide, leading the mule, when it began. 

The snow covering a large part of a mountain valley near them, 
began to come down.

A half mile away, Mike Stoker and Marco Lopez, saw the same thing.

-----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

A loud klaxoned hooter began to sound all over the resort and
a score board like status sign, displaying ski run designations began
to flash. A-9's name, turned blood red in lights.

##Alert. A-9. Alert. A-9. All emergency crews, report.## said a voice
over the loud speaker.

Everywhere, resort wide, all the ski lifts jolted into stillness, keeping their
riders safe where they were, up high in the still sunny air.

All happy chatter around Dixie ceased and all eyes turned towards the 
mountain as a dull roar began to grow above them.

McCall slowly turned around and beheld a monster barrelling down on
A-9 to her right. ::Oh, my G*d. Johnny and Chet are down there.:: she
quailed.

-----------------------------------------------------------

Photos: None.

***********************************************************
From: "Pat or Cassidy or Jeff" <voyagerliveaction@yahoo.com> 
Date: Sun Apr 1, 2007 5:54 pm 
Subject: Convergence 

Nicole dug her skis into the side of the hill and came to a jolting
stop inside a shower of snow. Chet and Johnny skidded to a halt
on either side of her. She let out a shout of dismay. "We're
done trying to warn anybody. We have to wait it out until it's over. 
Follow me to the aid cache.. We're gonna need it."

"What's a cache?" Gage shouted following her back down the slope
very near the warning flag.

"An emergency storage hut full of our medical gear and sleds."
she replied. "Ryan, notify the fire department! She's coming down
big!" she hollered into her radio. 

Kelly tapped them on their arms urgently. "Ohhh, that one's
not going to make it.." he said, pointing to a skier who had ventured off
the courseway into the no ski zone. He was trying to make a run for 
the safety of A-9's open track through the trees. The roaring avalanche 
effortlessly overtook him, sending him tumbling over the side of a tall 
cliff in a jumble of snow. "Too late! Too late!" Chet yelled.

"Let's go.." Nicole told the two firemen. "Leave the sled, the team
coming behind us from the resort'll pack it up. That guy's first.
Don't lose sight of him!" she urged as she pulled a backpack
of gear and spinal precautions out of the cache.  She flipped on
a red light poled at the top of the hut and started running an orange
streamer tape across the run to show her direction of rescue travel
for those coming.

The avalanche was soon spent, but not before it reached 
the highway with its dying foot as it wound itself, decelerating, 
around and over pine trees.

"A car! It's caught a car!" Gage pointed.

Nicole gave an update transmission. "Silver station wagon down off 87
and Emerald Bay Road, right at mile marker 57. Unknown casualty number!" 
she said.

##PCSO copies. Launching Life Flight and extrication crews.## came
the voice of her dispatcher.

-----------------------------------------------------------------------------

Tim Eihausen stopped Captain Stanley with the back of
his hand when a klaxon sounded throughout the pine log
walled garage. They had been laughing on a bench as Tim tried
to show Hank how to lace up snowsnows.

"Grab a jacket, Hank. We're rolling." said Tim. "Car off
the road." Stanley got inside of a winter turnout and slid his feet into 
the boots that Tim snatched for him out of a locker. "You're a fourteen.
right?"

"Yeah..Good eye." said Hank.  Cap started running for the engine on
automatic reflex. 

Tim shouted. "Not the Quint, we'll send somebody back for it. We're
taking the piste basher." he said as his men started running
into the garage to gear up into cold weather equipment.

"The what?"

"The trail groomer.. A sort of snow tank with treads. We've
got her out back." Eihausen clarified. "She's the only thing
able to climb the avalanche's debris field at this point until
it settles and freezes in."

"A bulldozer designed for snow?" Cap said, rejoining him.

"You can say that." Tim said as the two of them ran for the rear
fire door. "We'll get exactly where we're headed en route."

-------------------------------------------------------------------------
The deep rumble of the slide died away, leaving the sounds
of panicked skiers on the run as they fled basewards, heading
for the resort. But Gage and Skoloda saw no one else but
the tumble of the body skidding down the mountain side just
above them. "I sure hope he's still alive.." Johnny told her
as they scissor walked rapidly to the edge of the ski run trail.

"He most likely is. The powder's deep over there. The snow'll
cushion his impact at the bottom when he finally stops tumbling. All of his
injuries are gonna be from hitting exposed rocks." Nicole cocked her 
head, listening carefully a few moments after she told Chet and Gage 
to shush at the tree's edge. "Ok, it's safe to leave the hard pack here. 
There won't be a second slide."

"How can you tell?" Chet asked, tightening his snow goggles.

"The trees aren't vibrating.." she said, pulling a de-gloved hand
off the rough bark of one pine. She lifted her radio to her
mouth. "Ryan, you ok up there?"

##*spap* I'm ok, I'm ok.. But there's at least one skier trapped
in the alley. I saw her get engulfed. I'm heading over there with 
Max.## he said of his search dog.

"We're heading for one towards the bottom of Cascade 
Falls. He was topside when it hit. He's taking a high fall."

##Copy, two spotted victims.## Ryan transmitted. ##Victor's already
working on getting us head counts of how many total were on A-9. 
There's bound to be a few hot shots out there who figured they'd 
ski off-trail illegally. He says he'll call up with our returned in numbers 
in five minutes. ##

"Roger that." said the woman EMT to her paramedic coworker.
Nicole started moving again, with Chet and Johnny close behind. "Send 
Max down for a probe. I've broken the south cache!" Nicole radioed. "Our
second team's almost here." she said, glancing over her shoulder at the 
emergency lift feeding along empty chairs with usage. She could see 
another four of her ski patrol team in the chairs above an insulated stretcher
tethered onto a cable dangling under their feet. "They're at eight hundred
and climbing."

##I see them.## said her partner.

Gage startled when a minute later, a large Golden Retriever burst
through a snowdrift and leaped over his head to get at Nicole's
hand. "Here you go, Max. Go run it up to Ryan. Go." she commanded,
giving the dog the folded up avalanche probe. Max hefted it up into his 
slabbering jaws and disappeared in a cloud of snow. He needed no
further urging.

"Are you two doing ok?" Nicole asked her guests when they began to
chop step into the thigh deep snow off the ski run inside the tree line.

"We're ok. This is no different than a stair climb." said Chet.
"Just keep leading us on. That guy can't wait." Kelly said, shifting
a pack of shovels on his back. 

-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
On the resort guest ski chairs, the emergency radio traffic was
clearly audible in the frigid sunny air. And someone in the know had
heard every word of it from moment one.

Dixie McCall had had enough of sitting on the side lines. When she
saw the emergency ski patrol teams go by up hill, she lifted her bench
bar and jumped off, landing on her snow shoes. Tightening her hood 
around her face, she jogged over the ski run to the other lift and jumped
onto a chair to follow them up. ::I'm a nurse, d*mn it. A little cold and snow's
not gonna stop me from helping out here.:: she declared. 

--------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
Roy and Brackett's guide finally led the mule out of the ravine.
"We're at the road. Are you sure you wanna do this?" he asked the
two men.

"Yeah, we gotta go. Those people are gonna need us asap."
said DeSoto. "Don't worry, we're dressed plenty warm enough.
Thanks for the ropes."

"No problem. Here's your radio back. Ok, mile marker 57 is 
about eighty yards that way. I'm going to go met the fire department's 
preliminary vehicle searching down this way, and tell him you're
here, doc."

"Feel free. Maybe I can speed up any treatment authorization
a little." replied Kel.

They were interrupted by loud shouts from another direction.
It was Lopez and Stoker, carrying out their camping gear.

"Dr. Brackett. I'll be right with ya. I'm going to tell them what's 
happening." Roy said. "That's Mike and Marco."

"I'll wait at the top of the embankment. What do I look for
along the slide's foot?" Brackett replied as he zipped up his 
jacket a little tighter against the chill.

"Broken brush and the smell of gasoline." Roy said. "That'll
be where she started rolling and tumbling down." he said of 
the fallen car.

"Ok.." said Brackett, beginning to jog away from him.

-----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Captain Stanley, in the groomer with Captain Eihausen, watched
as the man expertly cleared the road ahead of them for the two 
rescue trucks of firemen following behind them.

Hank exclaimed out loud. "Hey, that's Dr. Brackett!" he said,
pointing to a figure waving wildly in front of them through the
gloom of snowflakes still darkening the air heavily from wind
blown avalanche debris dusted pine boughs.

"Who?"

"Our friend from the resort. He's the attending who helped us out
with that choking you heard called out last night but didn't need to
respond to. I think he's spotted something."

Tim threw the snow vehicle into idle. "He sure has. I can see
the tire marks skidding sideways from here. Stopping now."
 
-------------------------------------------

Photos: None.

**************************************************
From: Patti or Jeff or Cassidy <theaterhost@voyagerliveaction.com> 
Date: Mon Apr 2, 2007 6:30 pm 
Subject: Contact 

Hank shouted to his men and Dr. Brackett standing next to the side 
of the road, tying on ropes. "Where are they?" he asked, joining them.

Stoker pointed over a splintered shrub. "Down there. We can't 
tell how many are in the car. Are they laying hose for a washdown?"

"With all this snow lying around?" Stanley smiled as he watched 
Captain Eihausen help his station's firefighters arrange extrication 
equipment and rappeling pulleys into rescue configuration with guiding 
lines, hauling mains and belay ropes. "This stuff's acting like natural 
fuel foam here." he said happily.

Mike blew on his hands to warm them. "Oh, I guess forgot about that 
frozen water effect. Well, I'm going to be sort of useless then. There 
isn't going to be any pump that needs manning."

"No, but that car's got to be split open a.s.a.p. See what you can do." 
he told Lopez and Stoker. "Guys, use these." he said, handing Roy, 
Marco and Mike a bundle of spare duty gloves Tim had given him after 
they had pulled up in the trail groomer. 

"Right, Cap." they said.

Mike didn't even feel his scalding sore foot and smarting hand. He let the 
cold and all the heart pounding adrenalin he felt surging through him 
take care of that for the moment.

Hank looked up. "Tim! This is Lopez and Stoker, Firefighter3/EMTs.
And DeSoto, a Firefighter1/paramedic. Could you use a couple more
hands on the heavy equipment and your patient care?"

"Send em down with the jaws and zip gun. DeSoto, 
I've got my men lowering the first stokes with all the 
medical gear. They'll help you check the victims to learn their
status. Grab helmets from the back of the winching truck."
Eihausen ordered. "Be careful down there, the avalance powder's
still settling. Visibility will be seriously reduced for a while
until things finish blowing out of the trees in the wind."

"Okay, Cap." Roy said to Eihausen, tying on the rope he had 
strung out on the road for a safety line for an improvised hip cradle.
"Got our lines?" he asked Hank and Kel.

"Yep." said Hank.
Brackett and Cap took hold of the rappelling rope after snugging
the end of it off on a nearby pine branch jutting up from a huge fallen
trunk at the top of the steep slope.

"Roy, I've got a radio." said Kel, holding up the one Cap handed to him.

"I'll let you know what we got right away." said DeSoto and the L.A. County 
trio began their slow descent down to the fallen car they could barely see.

-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Dixie caught up with Gage and Skoloda rapidly using the broken
snow trail they had left behind.  "Johnny, wait for me!" she shouted to 
get his attention.

"Dixie? What are you doing here?" Gage asked, grabbing her elbow
to help guide her as they kept running.

"Same reason you are. Three are far better to stabilize if he's critical."
she replied.

Nicole recognized Dixie, even in her hood. "You're that nurse from yesterday."

McCall nodded.

"Here, tie this on." Skoloda said, handing her the end of the safety rope John
and she were tied together with. "That way, if anybody falls, the other two can
anchor themselves down and stop any sliding. Just drop down onto your back 
if that happens and dig your heels in like spurs to catch them."

"Got it." said Dixie. 

A few minutes later, Nicole pointed to a turn around a large boulder as
they flanked the great, silently frozen tumble of water from the creekbed
arching straight above, as fast as they could. 

"Where is he?" Chet said, whirling around. "This IS the base of the cliff."

Nicole stopped them in their tracks. "Hang on, there might be a new expanded 
drift pocket at the base of the falls. I don't see the warning snow fence and sign 
we put up earlier in the season keeping people away from all this unstable cliff ice."  
She drew out a search probe and began stabbing the snow in a line carefully in 
front of her before each step. "Stay behind me." she ordered.

A tense minute later and the probe nearly fell out of her glove. "There's the lip.
The slide must have first widened, then capped it off. Watch your step." she said. 
"The hollow's right underneath us."

"How deep?" Johnny asked, feeling the change in the snow's texture as they
sank in thigh deep into the jumbled pile left over from the slide.

"Six feet or so. Level bottom." Nicole replied. "About fifteen yards wide once
you're in." Skoloda shared.

The three of them startled when a shelf of snow collapsed as they passed by,
exposing the natural rock grotto. "There he is.." said Johnny, kicking off his
skiis and running across the bare stone floor of it.

The man was conscious, but bug eyed in voiceless pain. 

Dixie, too, freed her feet and got to his side. "Easy,..easy, just lie still." she
said, keeping him from reaching out to them from where he lay on his back
in a pile of fallen snow. She grabbed his wrist to get his pulse. "We're on
the ski patrol team. Can you breathe ok?"

The stunned skier coughed weakily, unable to understand the question
as his vision swam with shock and very apparent internal agony. He still
wanted to struggle to lift his head up in a blur of confusion.

"No.." Gage told him, setting two knees on either side of his head to hold
him snugly still in a vice using them. "Keep still." he said, placing his gloved 
hands firmly over his ears in a controlled pin. 

"No radials.." said Dixie, letting go of the skier's bruised wrist. She began
sweeping down his body swiftly, looking for active blood flow soaking through
his fall torn ski suit while Nicole broke out their oxygen and insulated blankets.

The injured skier moaned incoherently when Dixie pressed down on his
abdomen.

McCall stopped. "Positive pelvis instability and rigidity upper right quadrant."
"This is a bleed out." she called out. "Also, I've found two tibial fractures
and a dislocated left ankle. Femurs are fine."

Kelly glanced down at the man's hands. "His thumbs are jammed out
of their joints. "

"That's from the pole handles he was still hanging onto when he hit."
Skoloda explained.

"Do they need splinting?" Chet asked, digging into her pack for
a couple of Sam's to start on the man's legs.

"No, his gloves'll be enough protection." she replied. "They'll
slip back into place when he starts trying to move his fingers again."

"Ok.." said Kelly. "His color's still good in all limbs." he reported.

The man's eyes rolled up into his head as his consciousness began 
sinking slowly.

Gage slipped his little fingers under the man's chin and jaw to help him 
keep an open airway when he started gurgling. He cracked opened the man's 
mouth and peered inside. "Not blood. And he isn't getting sick."

Nicole suctioned pink saliva and snow water out of the man's mouth 
with a hand held baster from the trauma kit. "I got him. How's his chest?"

"Intact with...even movements." replied Dixie, reaching inside of his suit 
down to the skin after feeling around his rib cage and along his sternum 
with her bare hands. "Do you have a cervical collar in that pack?" she said 
drawing her hands out to look for blood stains smearing them.

"Yes, right on top." replied Skoloda, setting the restless skier on high flow
oxygen.

Dixie took it out and she and Kelly used it to free up Johnny. 

Gage finished inserting an NP down the skier's right nostril. "I take it you 
have bags of Ringer's."

Nicole nodded. "Here." she said handing him a navy pouch full of catheters,
gauged needles and fluid flow tubing. "All you need's inside."

Dixie pulled out orange labelled foil squares from a sack. She wasn't familiar
with them. "What are these?" she asked, uncoiling a stethoscope with her other
hand quickly.

"Heat packs. Break open the capsule inside with a striking fist. They'll last 
half an hour." Nicole told her.

McCall and Chet put several inside the man's suit under his arm pits and groin area 
and Dixie prepared one for the bag insulating the I.V. fluid pouch Gage was 
stringing into readiness inside of a insulated hang sack.

All three of them snugged wool blankets underneath the frighteningly quieting man 
as far as they could to keep him mostly protected from the cold ground and snow 
under his back. Only then did Nicole radio out to those listening. "Ouray Rescue
One to CalFire. One alive, at the base of Cascade Falls fumerole. Request a rapid
extricate. Abdominal trauma and multiple fractures on all extremities. Diminishing
level of consciousness is apparent. A paramedic and an R.N. are on scene."

##PCSO copies. One victim. Cascade Falls. ALS present. ETA of your Cal Star
helicopter is ten minutes. Pilot reports they're flying out of Marshall Hospital in 
Placerville. Weather is clear.##

"Ouray One acknowledges. Note. Closest zone is Red Mountain Pass. She's 
snow free and clear to land."

##Roger that.##

Frowning, Nicole bent closer to their work area as she began cutting
free the rest of the skier's clothing in a closer survey inside of his blankets,
looking for other wounds.

---------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
At the buried highway, things were progressing rapidly in scope
and information.

"These three, are dead." Stoker told all the firefighters in the ring out from
where he peeked inside the car. "The driver's still alive and conscious."

"Ok." said the Meeks Bay fire captain. "Let's get the top off." Tim ordered.

Soon, the deeply snowed in ravine resounded with the noise of rescue.

Up above, Kel Brackett began to fret. "What's taking them so long to
report in?"

Hank answered."They'll get all their preliminary information first, start any
life support if it's needed, then they'll call. Takes a while."

"I never knew that." Brackett admitted. "From my end at Rampart, everything's
always so neat and tidy." he said ruefully. "And fast."

"Welcome to the real life rescue world, doc. Out here, you learn quickly that
patience is a virtue." Stanley said. "In this case, their lack of communication's 
a good thing. That means they found somebody alive down there, and savable."

"Thank heavens for that." said Brackett. "What happens now?"

Cap looked at him and shrugged. "We wait. Somedays, that's the toughest 
part of the job. It really sucks being a little higher up in the chain of command."

"You're telling me?" Kel said, wrapping a blanket around himself as the sweat
inside of his clothes began to freeze. "Try seeing things from my perspective once."
he scoffed mildly. "I can't see anything listening over a base radio."

The two men turned to watch the tiny dots of color far down below circling around
the flanks of the car amid a sea of white and tangled timber.

---------------------------------------------------------

Photos: None.

**************************************************
From: Patti or Jeff or Cassidy <theaterhost@voyagerliveaction.com>
Date: Wed Apr 4, 2007 10:12 am 
Subject: Coalescence

Roy and Marco placed themselves as the victim tenders while
the car was ripped apart around them. Stoker expertly butter knifed
the windshield open and soon, the Meeks Bay company had sliced
and lifted the car roof off of them.

DeSoto was on the man's head, providing oxygen and head and
neck stabilization all the while he was talking to the terrorized man.
"We're here right next to you. Don't worry, the car's not going to
fall any more. It's at the bottom. Don't move around at all. I got you.
Tell me where it hurts."

The man only groaned, unable to absorb what had happened to
him as his swollen eyes witnessed the other firefighters moving 
the green tarp covered members of his dead companions out of the car 
and away from him to create space enough to free him from the car.

DeSoto realized he wasn't going to be given information. "Marco,
sweep him head to toe and tell me if he's pinned. I'm hearing rasps
as he breathes."

Lopez checked. "There's bruising along the left side of his ribcage."

"Any holes?"

"No, the skin over them's intact." Marco lifted his head from where
he crouched. "He's clear, arms and legs."

"Ok, maybe this difficulty breathing is something else."

"He's wheezing." Marco noticed.

"Yeah." DeSoto said as the other firefighters began to feed a long
board behind the driver in between Roy's hands. "Could be asthma or 
something similar working on him. Once we finish his rapid extrication,
hand me the respiratory gear box. Also try to locate the albuterol in there."

"Right."

The driver was soon collared, head strapped, and bound safely on a spine 
board inside of a winter survival sleeping bag packed full of chemical heating 
packs.

"Okay, let's get him up top. He's still conscious." Roy told them. "I'll follow
along and monitor his breathing." he said re-securing his lifeline around
his waist and putting his gloves back on. "We've more than enough people 
covering scree."

Stoker made sure the guiding rope on the plastic sled litter was secured
in front before he jogged ahead back up the avalanche chewed slope.
"All right, we've got a good anchor point!" he shouted. "The spider
rig's ready."

As they were beginning to move the man uphill, he shuddered and started 
crying out for someone lucidly. A single name.

"Hold it. Hold it." DeSoto said, leaning close to the man's oyxgen masked
face. "Say that again. Easy.." And then he listened carefully. He looked up in 
alarm. "He says there was a year old baby boy in the car."

"There was no car seat." Marco said in shocked dismay.

"I know. The infant may have been ejected during the crash. A set of seat
belts back there are ripped apart." DeSoto said. "We didn't cut those
middle ones."

"Maybe that seat protected him good enough." Lopez hoped. "But then
he got buried."

"Go." Roy told him. "Follow the debris pattern."

Marco and two of Meeks Bay's crew immediately grabbed tools and started 
probing the snow in everwidening circles around the car and along the way
they had come as Roy and his rescue party continued to leave the gorge.

The emotional heaviness in Lopez's chest began to grow as the minutes
started to crawl by while they searched. 

----------------------------------------------------------------------------------
Back in the grotto, Gage cursed. "I can't get a vein. He's 
too cold."

Nicole said. "Put a hotpack below your tourniquet. It may raise
one mid lateral instead of antecubital."

"Trying that." he replied.

A grinding rumble from above startled them. "Rockfall!"
Johnny shouted and they both hugged the shelf around
the ice column of creekwater desperately. Nicole quickly 
shelled an open gear stuffed pack over the skier's face to 
protect him but she wasn't fast enough. A large stone caught
her on the wrist with its full falling weight.

"Ahh..!" she screamed, sinking to her knees, cradling her 
left forearm.

Dixie and Chet had run the other way, out into the open.
"Move!" Kelly yelled to them. "More's coming down."

"Watch out!" Dixie warned.

A cluster of cantaloupe sized rocks impacted on the icy floor
of the grotto and exploded apart violently, spraying stone splinters
and dust that hit and impacted Skoloda and Gage.

Nicole screamed and ducked her head desperately to save her
eyes.

Johnny grabbed her by the ski suit collar and dragged her closer
to the cliff and under cover. "Did you break it?"

"I----I don't know.." she panted. "Hurts like a mother f*****"

"Keep it still. Gimme your radio if you can." he said.

Nicole passed it over, her injured arm resting oddly on
her knees as she curled around it. " Ouch! G*d, I didn't need THIS
happening right now." she complained. "He needs to get out of here."

"Working on that. Ouray to base. We're dodging rocks. Three are
pinned against the cliff. Our patient is ....down a 50ş slope. He's got
head injuries, leg fractures, bruises and lacerations with internal bleeding. 
He is conscious but listless. His pupils are equal. He is receiving oxygen, 
but he has no recollection of the accident." he reported.

##PSCO copies. Latitude and Longitude is needed for helicopter LZ.##

Johnny looked askance, flinching as he looked up the waterfall for
more signs of falling boulders.

"Give it here." Nicole said, tossing her head.

Johnny held the radio close to her mouth and pressed the talk button.

Nicole took in a painful breath. "We're at 37ş 59^(1) 41 and 107ş 47^(1) 02.6
at 12,300-12,500 ft. Air temperature is twenty five degrees. Winds are
10-15 from the north east, with gusts to twenty. I've been injured, but
I'm stable."

The second ski patrol team responded instantly. ##Bob and Karen are just 
entering the alley trailhead. ETA three minutes. We've positioned four people 
on the southwest ridge fixed with binoculars to triangulate your position.  They 
are at the northernmost visible notch. Are the two of you and your victim at 
the top of the couloir?##

Nicole nodded tiredly at Gage, who pressed the talk button again.
"Negative, we're at the bottom. Use Cascade Falls as a guide. We're
at the base of them."

##10-4.##

Gage added more. "We need 1,100 ft. of guiding line: a 350 meter, 
11 mil rope; a 65 meter guiding rope; two 30 meter, 8 mil cords; and 
all the webbing, carabiners and pulleys you have with your litter. A couple
of head lamps would be nice. It's getting dark."

##Roger that.##

Chet and Dixie called out again. "Okay. It's over. We're coming
back."

As soon as she could, Nicole let Dixie guide her out into the open
and away from danger. Skoloda was undistracted by pain and she
soon waved Dixie away, knowing her priorities. "I'll get smoke up for 
the helicopter!" she yelled back at Johnny.

"Okay." he replied. "Dixie, come help me try this I.V. again."
Johnny said. "I've tried twice already."

"How about a jugular stick?" McCall said.

"Won't work. He's too depressed pressure wise."

"Let me try." Dixie said, rethreading another catheter and needle
guide. "Maybe a temple vein will be better."

"I'll get you a twenty five gauge." Johnny said.

A few minutes later, the third I.V. attempt was declared as 
failed. Soon after, Nicole's radio battery started beeping out loud 
every minute or so. It was dying because of the cold. "We're OOC." 
she said, checking its crystal display indicator.

"Yeah, but looks like we're no longer alone.." Gage said, pointing,
with a happy grin.

They could see Team Two coming fast and already, they
were shooting a line up the cliff from the rope gun, a grounder.

"Nicole?! Are you okay?" one of them asked. "We heard."
a tall man questioned. He and the others dropped the orange
sled stretcher down onto the snow that they had carried up with
them that had attached to their ski lift chair.

"I'm fine. It's just an arm. Keep working." she said with a nod 
and a falsely loose grin mustered up to reassure her fellow
coworkers.

"If you say so." he said, barely convinced. He turned away only
when he realized that a paramedic and a nurse were standing by
her.

Soon, the new team began guiding line tensioning until it was fixed, 
the twine removed and the lines connected up to those rescuers 
helping out the helicopter pilot at the top of the cliff.
   
Two in the patrol started putting up main and belay lines.

Gage apologized in advance. "Nicole, I gotta go with him. Stay with 
Dixie. She'll take good care of you after I'm topside." he promised 
her, pointing to her arm.

"Yeah. Thanks." she grunted, rising to her feet painfully.

Soon, the collected team started raising the litter loaded skier back 
up the cliff to the waiting bird. The spotters disappeared.

"He's up. And they're in the air." Nicole gasped happily, leaning heavily 
against the rock surrounding them. She watched as the CalStar 
chopper banked suddenly north, heading for town.

"Here. Get your leverage against me." Dixie said, taking her by 
the shoulders. "Are we heading back down on foot? Or are we
sledding you down?" she asked. 
 
"I'm walking." Skoloda nodded. 

"How about letting me splint that first?" she suggested, watching 
Nicole's reluctance in letting go of her injury.

"My arm can wait. I put it inside my coat. I can still feel and wiggle 
my fingers okay. The pain's gone way down. It doesn't hurt enough
now to be broken and there's been no bone noises."

"All right. You're a better judge of your current condition than I am. 
We'll help you balance." McCall compromised as she and another 
aided Skoloda along the route back towards the ski run and the resort.

Chet Kelly popped his skis on and said. "I'm headed to the highway.
I just have to check whether or not rescue's found them."

"Go ahead. We'll manage just fine." Dixie told him.

Kelly skied the fastest circuit of his life, cutting through the trees
on top of the avalanche path.

------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
Ski Patrol Paramedic Ryan Shreves glanced up when the rest of his 
follow up team caught up with him. "I can't find her, but Max's pointing 
on something right here." he said, digging underneath his knees.

"Okay.." they said, beginning to make the snow fly with shovels.

Max began to bark excitedly, but Ryan was still keeping his feelings
guarded. ::This slide's like concrete. I don't think there're gonna be
any air spaces.:: he thought privately.

Twenty minutes later, they broke through into a pit of ice. The snow
had sandwiched the woman skier tightly and had her completely
entombed. Ryan did not find a palpable pulse. "No vitals. Let's
get her out. Don't suddenly move her at all or ice crystallization will 
shred her tissues. She's partially frozen." he said, seeing her blue 
white hands that were almost the same color as the snow. Ryan checked 
in. "Ouray to Dr. Brackett on Tact Two."

##Go ahead, Ouray.## answered Kel from his rescue scene.

"Pulseless hypothermic. Possibly deceased. Female around one 
hundred ten pounds. Limbs intact without fractures. Color, chalky on all 
limbs and involving the trunk. Orders."

##She's too cold for countershocking. Do not defibrillate. Her cardiac 
impulses won't be reactive to conductivity or synthetic medications until 
she's brought back up to at least 94şF internally. Epinephrine will have no 
effect and will just pool in her half frozen tissues. Carefully begin manual 
CPR only without jarring her unnecessarily to prevent cellular damage
and begin passive rewarming.##

"10-4."Ryan said.

A younger member of the ski team scratched his hair underneath his ski 
cap as he watched two of his seniors begin simple life support. "Isn't
she gone?"

Ryan pegged him with a familiar mantra. "She's not dead until she's warm 
and dead." he told the teenager seriously.

"Oh, uh,.. really? Sorry."  said the young patroller, frightened when he 
realized that he had been caught writing someone off too soon.

Ryan was kindly, remembering his first slide victim.
"Don't be concerned if you aren't ventilating her enough. She'll only need
a few breaths every minute. Her stored oxygen is still there inside, not
being used up yet. Keep her head exposed but start getting the rest of her 
warm with plenty of heating packs. But not too quickly, or she'll shock out.
We need to prevent brain damage from happening with a gradual recovery."

"Yes, sir." he replied.

--------------------------------------------------------------------------------
Kelly made the highway in less than a minute and a half.

"Cap?! Is everything all right?" he asked, sliding to a stop
on the road in front of Dr. Brackett and Stanley.

"Everything's going fine so far. They're working their way
up right now. How are the other victims?"

"Our guy's airlifted. I don't know about the woman Ouray found."

"She's arrested but very chilled. She's has a shot getting back
if she was cooled down fast enough after getting trapped underneath
the avalanche layer." Brackett told him.

Cap introduced Eihausen to Kelly and they shook hands.

"I'm a huge fan of older, and smaller firetrucks. Seems like you have
a good collection of them working for you." Chet admired, smiling at Tim.

"We do. We procure them from auctions and test them under our
mountain conditions to see which ones'll serve us best."

A burst of static came out all the roadside radioes. ##Meeks Bay
to HT 61. We need a sharper angle. And lights. The ropes are
getting snagged on all of this brush.## reported a firemen hanging
with Roy and their patient on the slope.

"10-4. Rolling a better winch." promised Captain Eihausen. "Hang
tight."  He started to shout orders to a crewman manning a stretcher
line to go find a pickup and return to the station to go get the Quint out.

Chet stopped him. "Uh, sir. That might take a while. I'm very mobile with
these things on." he said, shuffling his ski bound feet. "How about I go
get it for you."

Tim glanced questioning at Hank. "Does Chet know how to drive a rig?"
 
Stanley started to shrug ignorance of that fact, when Chet spoke up.
"Yes, sir. I do. I know Quints like the back of my hand. I just passed my 
certs day before yesterday. So yeah, I can drive her no problems at all."

"Okay. Station's a mile down the road on your left. Door's already open."
Tim agreed.

"I'll be right back!" Chet said, picking up speed downhill along the road.
"What's your call sign?"

"61's." replied Tim.

"Got it." Kelly shouted over his shoulder.

Soon, they heard Chet returning in the Quint as he made his way up
the steep mountain switchbacks.

Kelly toggled the radio mic, wearing one of the rural station's helmets
and turnout gear. "Quint to HT 61. I'm one minute out."

Tim and Hank both, began to smile. "That was fast." Eihausen remarked.

"He normally is." Cap remarked with a chuckle. "He only gets into trouble 
every once in a while as a way too frequent Code I." Stanley shared.

Tim grinned. "Huh. We've got one of those, too. A real practical joker."

"Sounds familiar. Must run with the territory." Stanley said.

"It must."  Tim smiled.

The two fire captains looked up at the sound of a manual diesel shifting gears,
with satisfaction. "Once we get the lights on, and get that new higher
centering pulley on one of the extension aerials, things'll speed up." 

"They sure will. You can count on it." Hank agreed.

But there were difficulties encountered almost immediately
in getting the car survivor up the slope.

A spotter radioed in. ##Light is on the victim.##

Tim followed up. "HT 61 to Ouray Two. Can you see
the lights?"

##Negative. Ice fog is moving in and there's still heavy tree 
snow fallout.##

"Are you at the steeper couloir angling point?"

##Yes, 61.##

"Ok, I'm sending a man down with head lamps to your
position." Tim promised. "The new boom's almost ready.
Get set for a rope end." he said, watching as Chet swung 
the aerial over the drop off where the new pulley system
was snugged securely.

## 10-4, we have a tag line set up. ##

"Copy that."

Then, Roy's voice sounded over the valley team's
channel. ##Patient is becoming combative. We need
a second paramedic down here a.s.a.p.##

"Working on that." Tim relayed. Then he spotted Gage running 
from a returned, road landed lifeflight. "Is he your other one?"

"Yeah." Hank said. "Johnny, get on a line. A male, combative multiple
trauma. Roy's got his hands full."

Gage nodded and quickly rappelled out of sight.

---------------------------------------------------------------------------------
Roy, Johnny, Nicole and Dixie were all at the Marshall Medical 
Center in Placerville, gathered together in an emergency cubical 
where Nicole had been assigned to get treated.

"I wanted to thank you for this." she said to Johnny, holding up
an expertly Sam splinted wrist. "I didn't know that my boss was 
going to order me onto a bird to go get my arm fixed."

"No problem. Binding that up was no big deal at all. I don't think 
it's broken any." he smiled lightly.

"I'm kind of figuring that, too." sighed Nicole, a little tipsy on
pain killer. She let John lower her onto the bed again where
she had been seated, still in her full ski gear. "Oh, this stuff's
w-wonderful." she sighed.

Johnny snicked up the bedrails on either side of the gurney
deftly. "It won't last, so get ready." he laughed.

Nicole regarded him spinny eyed and smiling a little.
"I know. Maybe the doctor will follow up with some Versed."
she mused, scratching an itchy nose. "Sorry I'm such a bother.
You two are on vacation and I'm not someone in a life threat."

"So what? So we have to do a little babysitting until the doctor 
finishes up with our other three. Glad they're all gonna make it okay." 
Gage shrugged.

Skoloda refused to meet their eyes.

Gage tapped her shoulder to get her to look up.
"So we narc'd ya, Miss EMT. That's no biggie. We had to do 
something. Your systolic was falling below a hundred due to pain."

Nicole chuckled, picking at her bed sheets.

Roy quickly clarified their mindset. "No, really. We're glad to help. 
Colleagues shouldn't ever feel bad about getting some assistance
from a coworker when it's needed."

Next to him, Dixie nodded in full silent agreement where she stood,
nursing a steaming cup of coffee as she was inhaling its
hot vapors, near her mouth.

Gage finally grinned.
"In fact, Roy and myself really got a kick out of getting another 
chance to see you. Uh, I mean, in a way that's not medically related."
he began, starting to lead somewhere.

DeSoto shot a look at his partner so he'd tell the truth.

Gage cleared his throat self consciously. "Well I did... At least... 
Anyway..." he said shyly. "Too bad he's a happily married man." he 
said, cock eye grinned.

Nicole took the bait. "And you're not?"

Johnny blushed even harder. "Well.. uh.." he stammered.
"No, not right now, I guess. I'd never, ..uh. Yeah, I'm single."
he said folding up a BP cuff that he had used a minute before.
"Your pressure's perfect." But then he froze.

Roy stepped in. "I think, he thinks, so are you." 

Gage cast Roy a grateful look and then he began studying
his toes in embarrassment from where he was gripping
the bed rail a little too hard.

Nicole regarded them both.
"That's so sweet. The answer's yes. I'll have dinner with you 
tonight, Johnny Gage. Just as soon as I get my cast on and
my land legs back."

"Well, far out." Gage grinned, feeling completely thawed out for
the first time ever all night. "That's incredible. I mean, you're
incredible. Absolutely. I-I'd be honored." he finished, finally
relaxing in front of her as their eyes met softly.

Unseen, Dixie and Roy slipped quietly out of the curtained
room to give them some privacy.

McCall turned to DeSoto in the hallway. "Say, did you get
the message from the front desk that Mike Morton left us?
That little girl from the house fire's gonna be just fine."

"I got it. Hey, why don't we go grab a beer to celebrate 
a little. We've got good reasons for doing so."

"You're on. Just so I'm located less than three feet away
from a roaring fire."

"Consider it done. I promise I'll keep you from singeing 
any of your toes." DeSoto grinned, offering Dixie his elbow.

"Spoken like a true firefighter." McCall said, taking his arm.
"Come on, let's catch the next shuttle going back to the resort.
I'm sure Johnny can manage here just fine, on his own."

Roy remembered another thing about another victim.
"Want to go see Marco's miracle car baby? He got through
his ordeal without a scratch. They found him in a tree top,
all safe and sound, still in his blanket strapped seat."

"Let's." McCall grinned, beginning to hum Rock-A-Bye baby.
"You should have seen Marco celebrating after they found him."

"Why? What did he do?"

"According to Hank, he dropped right down in the snow
right there on the spot and made himself an angel by flapping
all of his arms and legs."

Roy chuckled good naturedly with amusement. "Yeah, that sounds 
like something Lopez would do. Boy, I'm sure glad that story had a 
happy ending."

"So am I. They're the best kind." McCall sighed contentedly as she
leaned on his shoulder affectionately as they walked.


FIN

The Quint Connection  
Episode 43, Season Six 
Emergency Theater Live
  
-------------------------------------------------

Photos: None.

*************************************************
 
            
                            End Credits --  Episode Forty Three (Sixth Season)
                                      
                                                     §§    The Quint Connection    §§


                        :)     This episode is dedicated to the people and dogs          :)  
                               of mountain ski patrols who roam the world's snowiest
                        :)     places while rescuing folks of all ages.                              :)   
 
 
 
The Story Unfolds...

Season Six, Episode Forty Four..
 
               §§   Pump Peculiarities   §§
 
Debut Launch: April 1st, 2007. 
 

**************************************************
From: Patti or Jeff or Cassidy <theaterhost@voyagerliveaction.com> 
Date: Tue Apr 17, 2007 3:13 pm 
Subject: The Build Up.. 

Captain Stanley set a shoe onto the couch as he pointed to the latest
memo sent out by Headquarters. "Ok, gang. The word's out. We're
on standby alert for flash flooding in the hill country and all along
the San Gabriel and Los Angeles Rivers."

Everybody looked surprised and more than a few of them automatically
shot a look out the window, looking for dark clouds. "Huh? It's raining?"

"Nope. Nope. It no longer has to, thanks to a bunch of broad thinkers
who think they know what's best for everybody living in all the cities 
located on the ocean side of the mountains. " said Cap, scowling.

Johnny looked up from where he was setting out chowder bowls for lunch.
"I don't follow you, Cap. What have they done now?"

Hank sighed a long suffering breath of exasperation. "In the name of
progress for all of southern California, they've just announced a happy
completion of what they call the L.A. Rivers Revitalization Master Plan."

Mike Stoker was still stirring the soup pot. "Sounds ominous. Some kind
of new park patrol?"

"Not quite." Cap told him. "You remember how our drinking 
watersheds used to be five years ago, with sandbars, natural 
tree islands and rock beds, don't you?" he said, looking at Mike.

"Yeah, I remember. We used to camp on some when the river beds
were drier before the winter rains." Stoker replied.

Johnny was still unpleasantly being informed. "Well, what did 
they go and do now?"

"They've channelized most of the river banks close into the city limits."
Cap told him.

"They've what?!" Gage exclaimed, setting his hands on his hips. "Now
why'd they go and do a stupid thing like that for?"

Hank offered him an unhappy smile. "They think they're doing something
for the greater good for controlling flash flooding. Today, they're opening for 
the first time, what they call the greater Los Angeles Aqueduct waterway 
system."

Chet scrunched his eyebrows together. "Sounds like a carnival ride."
he said sarcastically.

Hank frowned. "Exactly what I thought, too, when I got the emergency
courier notice today. There's gonna be timed water releases
every day at noon down a tall mountainside cascade barrier trough,
that will be permanently scheduled, like clockwork."

"Oh, no." Marco moaned. "That event's gonna draw every kid and 
teenager within walking distance to come and see the show."

"They figured most of them would be in school and tucked out of
sight." Cap shrugged.

"Fat chance." Kelly spat.

Roy looked discomforted. "The river's a half mile from my house. Have
they erected fences around these new channelways?"

"Not yet. The hydrologists are way ahead of the city services. And that's where 
we come in." Cap said unhappily. "We're to memorize all the routes into and
out of the new watershed areas across the whole county."

The firemen were silent as they absorbed the news. "Everyday at noon,
huh?" said Marco. "That's a sure recipe for disaster just waiting to happen.
And why'd they have to pick water dumps for the weekends, too?"

"I'm not a city planner. Go ask one." Hank shrugged. "Uh, they're also 
going to be feeding in deep water every six pm, right around dinner time."

"Hang on a minute. What about all the drag races that go on in the bottoms 
at sundown?" Chet added. "They've been going on since I was kid."

"Or the bums camping out in the hillside rainwash tunnels?" Stoker added.

"Now you see why I'm chewing on these anti-acid tablets." Hanks said,
pulling out a half empty roll from his shirt pocket. "Until those chain
link fences are up, we're gonna be the only agency available to handle
anything fishy that happens along the river for the next sixty days."

"Geez. People are gonna start dying, Cap. You think all the city mayors 
would-- would.. would realize the importance of putting in all the safety 
barriers first before they go activating anything." Gage grumbled. 

"More folks are getting thirstier I guess." Hank said softly.

Gage looked away, getting increasingly mad about the whole mess.

"Where's all the water coming from?" DeSoto wanted to know.

Cap said. "Remember the Lower San Fernando Dam which nearly
cracked apart in the 1971 quake?"

"Yeah.." said Roy. "That one shook loose a massive slide that
carried away much of the crest and all the upstream concrete lined 
facing of it. Only a narrow band of dirt stood between 80,000 people in 
the San Fernando Valley and 15 million tons of water poised behind a heavily 
damaged dam if I remember correctly."

"You remember right." Cap snorted. "Back then, we got disaster 
lucky beyond our wildest dreams when the worst, never happened."

"Oh, I remember that." said Kelly. "Weren't we part of the operation that 
helped evacuate all the residents in an 11-square-mile area in the valley 
while the water behind the earthen dam was lowered?"

Johnny frowned. "We were?"

"Gage that was a year before you transferred over here from eight's." 
Stoker reminded him.

"Oh." Johnny grinned cockeyed. "Thanks. For a second there, I thought
my memory was getting faulty."

Chet pounced. "Gage, your memory's always faulty so I wouldn't bank
too much on that reassurance you think you're feeling right now."

Johnny shot him a dirty look and bent to study the new city map
issued to them from Headquarters that Cap was holding in his hands.
Mike Stoker especially knelt down close to peer at them. He asked a
question. "Have the tunnels down there been widened enough for our
new Ward?" 

"Yes. At least, they got that part of all the artifical channelization changes 
right." Hank grumbled. "They've got a new dam built downstream of the old
one we saw that day on the news. It's called the Los Angeles Dam, which is now
holding back a large reservoir 1.6 miles long and as much as 130 feet deep. 
The reservoir is now the terminus of the new main aqueduct system for Los 
Angeles, which'll soon be released in stages to supply 80% of the entire 
county area's water needs, right down into our backyard over these new
barrier cascades."

"Is this dam safer than the last one was?" Chet said, making a face.

"Yep. Guaranteed. I guess the folks of Cudahy and South Gate finally got sick
of being washed out every winter. It's built to withstand three times the max richter 
scale earthquakes the designers say that will regularly happen around it for
the next century." Hank shared.

"Famous last words." Chet mumbled.  

No one chided him.

Hank sighed again.  "Now,..." he said, taking in a deep breath. "These
new protocols I've got stacked up on my chair are how this whole ball of 
wax is going to start rolling for us, starting today." he said handing out thick 
packets of new ink scented fire department guidelines. He went right on talking. 
"The new river's southern stretch in our service area forms the heart of an 
industrial corridor stretching nearly unbroken from Lincoln Heights to 
Long Beach. In this new area, the busy Long Beach Freeway (I-710) and several 
high-voltage power lines run within a few hundred feet of the riverbed. Several rail 
yards are located along the L.A. river's banks in this stretch as well, creating 
hazmat considerations we'll have to plan out for the future in case of a chemical 
spill from a train or boxcar. And, just outside of the corridor lie some of the most 
densely populated cities in the state. That stretch has already become a source of 
embarrassment for many city planners. Graffiti is already lining its walls, and 
garbage is piling up along the bed faster than workers can pick it up while
they're building it."

"That's going to raise our biological contamination risks significantly." said Roy with 
worry.

"Sure is. Until those fences go up to curb the brunt of it. They're not so worried
about the paint problems as much as they are about the trash. Paint dries safely
enough." Cap told him. "And before you ask, according to Vince, all the homeless 
persons and heroin addicts are still camping out underneath all the usual bridges. 
I'm afraid they don't have TV sets or any radios to warn them about the water 
releases that will be beginning down there. L.A.F.D. choppers say even more 
drag races are being spotted taking place in the new channel because of all the 
fresh flat concrete that's been laid down. The river's condition in that way is 
especially bad just south of Boyle Heights, behind the high school." Cap said. 
"We're to begin neighborhood watch patrols at all the tunnel access points during 
our daily hydrant inspection rounds, a.s.a.p. while the fences are going up."

"Wait a minute. Wait a minute. Why are we suddenly the enforcers here?" Johnny
said unhappily.

"Yeah." Chet said, agreeing with him. "Why can't the cops keep everybody kicked 
out?"

"They're overwhelmed guys. There's more of us, than them, as you know.
Guess we're...seen as being pretty convenient and the absolute fastest way to 
solve a problem."

"Just terrific. So we've got a whole entire day to start coming up with new
routes for swift water rescue plans." Gage scoffed.

Cap met his eyes in misery.
"Actually, we've got only about three hours left. Tops. It's already nine o'clock."

The gang fell silent and stunned. 

Hank attempted to cheer the air. "Let's read all of these, over last night's left over 
chowder." Hank said, holding up his own copy. "We'll be able to think of solutions
a bit faster on full stomachs." 

Mike Stoker remained sitting on the couch, studying the new road map traces
along the riverbed. "Cap. I think I'll pass on food. My gut's getting a little upset."

Johnny was sober and growing quiet. "Yeah, yours and ours both."

Cap took sympathy and tossed Mike his roll of Tums so he could eat one
first.

------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Photo:  Cap and the gang reading a memo by the couch.

Photo:  L.A. River cascade.

Photo:  An L.A. River spillway.

Photo:  Cap with a pot of chowder.

Photo:  A bridge view of a concrete river bed, with graffiti.

Photo:  Chet and Stoker, looking unhappy.

**************************************************
From: Jeff Seltun <finiterider@yahoo.com> 
Date: Thu Apr 26, 2007 8:56 am 
Subject: Night and Day Difference.. 

All the gang jolted when the tones went off and created
very unpleasant shakes inside each and every one of them. 
Chet was clear headed enough to pull the chowder pot off 
the hot burner and he turned off the stove. 

They ran for the vehicle bay while L.A.'s voice offered more.
##Station 51. Unknown type rescue. Access road C,
Sepulveda Basin and Van Nuys Boulevard. Access Road
C, Sepulveda Basin and Van Nuys Boulevard. Incident is
being reported from an emergency phone at Mile Marker
9. Time out :  9:08. ##

Cap was in no mood to waste time. He acknowledged the
station on the move using the Ward's radio mic. "Station
51. 10-4. KMG 365."  In one hand, he clutched the new city
map outlining the altered waterway course protectively.

In the squad, Gage was anxious. "Is our call's location on the 
riverway? This....." he broke off. "It's not fair, Roy, we're not even 
ready to handle things like that yet." he said, leafing through the 
water course facts and details that Cap had given them in the
packet he had never set down.

"It might be. I don't rightly know. I think where we're going's a 
wildlife refuge along on a three mile stretch east of Griffith Park. 
It won't be paved. I just know I know how to get there. Chris wrote his high 
school junior final paper on endangered species last year and we went
nearby here once to birdwatch and take some photos for his presentation." 
DeSoto replied. "There's a ranch flanking a parking lot and a couple 
of athletic fields."

"That's right. I think I've been to that ranch buying hay bales. Aren't those 
bottoms known as the Glendale Narrows?" Johnny said. 

"Yep. There's the sign." said Roy, pointing as they went by a brown
painted reflective one. "And there's the L.A. river. Looks kinda high."

"Oh, that's just great." Gage gushed under his breath miserably.
Nervously, Johnny looked at his watch. "We've got two hours until
the first reservoir cascade. What kind of call do you think we're gonna 
get?" Gage asked, rubbing his face in the wind as it poured through the 
open window of the hurrying lights and siren bristling rescue squad. 

They were passing by cones, and brightly painted barricades that the 
city was going to put into effect just before noon to keep people away 
from the water while the first controlled flood did its unpredictable
first work of scouring away a new deeper channel through the area.
Gage nodded in appreciation when one of the road workers hastily 
shoved a construction horse out of the way so they could pass by.

DeSoto answered immediately. "Something recreational." he quipped
trying to put his partner at ease. "I don't think too many folks are actually
working when they're visiting a city park."

Johnny shot him a dirty look but it was only half hearted. He began to
relax when they finally spotted a woman running towards them across
the field, waving and shouting. "There." he said, showing Roy what
he had spotted.

"She's it." Roy agreed, trusting his own orienting instincts, too.

The waiting was over.

-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Dr. Mike Morton was flipping through a very short stack of charts that 
he had already memorized, drumming his fingers on the desktop in
utter boredom.

That kind of sound usually grated on Nurse Dixie McCall's nerves as soon
as she heard someone doing it, but today, it never even bothered her. She
yawned again where she was sitting dully on her ER desk stool and she
continued to watch her coworker mill aimlessly about the base station. 
"Finding everything okay?" she asked him.

"Yeah. Thanks, Dix. I am." said Mike, as he tried to occupy himself with 
something that was actually useful, once again.

"Umm..hmmm." Dix grumphed with mild amusement, using him as an 
object of humor.

Morton heard her teasing scoff, but pretended to ignore her as
he flipped his charting pages without even reading them. 

McCall shifted her head to the right, over her shoulder.

Dr. Brackett was putzing with the EKG monitor, unnecessarily putting it
through simulator strips on its various lead configurations. Joe Early,
was hip deep into the steel and glass pharmaceuticals cupboard, trying
to find something to organize alphabetically, but annoyingly, he was 
realizing fast that McCall had already done the same thing, hours ago.

::Well, at least I've got something to look at now.:: Dixie sighed, thinking 
again.::Even if it's just a bunch of doctors bored to distraction, messing 
up my workspace.::

"Ah, ha!" said Joe, pulling out a box of narcotic. "Xylocaine. This box was 
behind the Zantac ones. It's out of order."

McCall let her head fall onto her folded hands. "Oh, I'm so busted. You got me." 
she said sarcastically. "Look fellas, I know it's slow. But you're beginning to
drive me absolutely nuts. Why do you have to stick your noses into everything 
right by me? There's a whole hospital for you to poke about in all around us." 
she said, fluttering irritated but elegant fingers pointedly in the air.

Morton angled a well chewed pencil over his shoulder. "We're still waiting
for the coffee pot to finish brewing." Mike smiled blandly, without looking up.

Dixie shot a glance over to the Mr. Coffee maker just as it was beginning
to burp and sizzle and belch as it percolated. McCall squinted at the dial
on it. "Twelve cups, huh. That's not gonna be enough."

"Three cups each? That's plenty." said Joe, neatly straightening the errant
drug carton into its new place before he reclosed the glass door on it. Absently, 
he polished a white sleeve on the handle until it shined. "What? Are you 
looking to get a few palpitations today? At least, that'd finally give us a patient 
to treat." he said, throwing a hand up at the empty waiting room.

Kel and Mike chuckled at Joe's comment.

McCall made a face at Early.
"Very funny. Go stick yourself with a dirty needle, huh. Then at least, 
I can get busy giving Labs some contamination orders to run."

"Ooo, that'd be very bad. I'm a surgeon." Joe said, holding up his hands 
as if he had scrubbed like one. "Gotta protect my hands."

Behind them, Kel toggled the base station receiver and hailed a
random firehouse. "Rampart Base to any available rescue squad in
quarters, please respond."

##Squad 99. Go.## came a reply back almost immediately. The
voice was hurried and covered for some reason.

Kel's eyebrows went up when he thought he heard sounds of active
cleanup and hosework and a whole lot of laughing::Washing the trucks up
inside after a fire?  At least somebody's found a way to play:: he mused with
a smile. "I'm checking out the hospital's auxillary EKG station. Can you 
run a defibrillator check for me on your end. I'm on the twelve lead. Sim
Mode."

##Stand by, Dr. Brackett. Hang on, let me drag it somewhere dry. 
We're.. ## said the paramedic.

"Cleaning up.. I know. I can hear the horseplay in the background." Kel told
him gruffly.

##Sorry, doc. We're bored. We just got back from a car fire in a parking 
lot. A smelly one. And that's all we've had for four hours.##

Brackett chuckled, letting his medic man off the hook.
"Yeah, we're bored, too, Milton. Drum us up some business on your
next call, would ya? We're falling asleep in droves over here."

##I can always loosen a hose coupling and bean the captain.##

"Nah, not worth getting fired over." Kel said. "Ready?"

##Telemetry's on line.## said the paramedic.##I'm getting...
course V-Fib on simulator in all leads.##

"That's it. That's what I've set."

##Shocking testers..##

The EKG monitor's rhythm leaped in a fake countershock in response
and converted to a viable one in the normal end result response machine 
mode. 

"And that's NSR in a clear transmission. Thanks, 99. Don't work 
too hard." said Kel.

##Wish I could say the same to you, doc.## the medic quipped back 
gleefully. ##Squad 99, out. Hey! Quit squirting me! I'm on the radi--*spap*##

Kel sighed as he retoggled the talk button to off in irritation. "Everybody's a 
comic." He turned around and leaned on the EKG monitor, scratching an itch 
in between his shoulder blades with the corner of it. "Anybody got some lotion 
handy? I used the wrong soap again in the shower this morning."

Dixie, vexed, tossed a bottle of Phisoderm, aiming straight for his head.

--------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

The sun was deceptively dark under the shade of the river trees at
the far end of the parking lot. 

Cap leaped out of the engine cab and together, he and the rest of the gang 
took the woman's arms to steady her as they got the whole story. "Ma'am. 
Calm down. We're here. It's all right. Don't panic. Just tell us what the problem 
is and we'll take it from here." Hank reassured her.

The woman opened her mouth and said..

-----------------------------------------------------------------------------

Photo:  Stoker driving the crown behind Squad 51.

Photo:  Roy and Johnny grabbing gear out of storage.

Photo:  Roy and Johnny standing near a female witness.

Photo:  Morton smirking hugely.

Photo:  Kel, Joe, Dixie at the base watching an EKG strip.

Photo:  Cap talking by the Ward, outside, in turnout.

************************************************** 
From: Patti or Jeff or Cassidy <theaterhost@voyagerliveaction.com> 
Date: Thu Apr 26, 2007 11:34 am 
Subject: That Universal Touch.. 


"It's Trixie.." the woman gasped as she let Cap set her down at 
a picnic table. "She fell into a hole and she's sinking in mud. I..I 
can't get her out."

"A child?" Gage asked, putting on his gloves.

"No, umm.. my horse."

Cap and the others stiffened unconsciously when they heard that. 
But just as fast, before the young woman noticed, they snapped 
back into pure professionalism. 

Stanley was genuine when he smiled. "All right. We'll see what we can 
do, Miss. Lead the way. Marco, Stoker, grab a couple of hundred footers 
and a lifter bag. A stokes cradle web probably isn't such a bad idea either.
Maybe we can get something around her before she goes in any deeper."

"Ok, Cap." they said.

Gage eyed up the woman differently when he saw her take a shaky 
misstep. "Are YOU hurt at all? Did you get tossed off while riding her?"

"No. I'm fine. It's nothing like that. Not at all. I noticed my mare wasn't at 
the feeding trough this morning when I went to add in their worming 
supplements. So I looked around and that's when I found the broken barbed 
wire on the outer fence near the park. I think a tree limb came down and 
tore it apart."

"Is it electrified?" Kelly asked, grabbing a pair of wire snippers.

"No. Geez, do I look like I'd do that kind of thing to an animal to 
you? I'd never force compliance on any horse that way. I ask them to 
work only when they want to." the horse owner said vehemently while
she showed the firemen the fastest way to the river bank.

"Best way to have a horse/owner relationship. That's what I do." Gage 
countered before things got ugly. "Ma'am, is the horse conscious?" 
Johnny asked. 

"Half way. She's so tired from struggling. But I think her legs are okay.
Nothing's broken. But she's getting cold. Real cold." sobbed the woman.
"My guess is she got trapped sometime after one last night."

Hank pursed his lips in a big sigh. "I'll go call Doc Coolidge to make a house
call. Do what you can." he told his men, thinking their call was more and more
likely to end up as euthanasia than rescue. "I'll give us an hour, but no more." 

Everybody got to work and headed to where the woman was pointing.

Gage found the mare in a shallow ditch, lying on her left side in a muddy
quagmire. Her white and red spotted hide was trembling and already, the
horse's eyes were white ringed and sunken, deep in shock. He tied off a rope
to a nearby tree for his own safety belted line while Roy prepared another to fit
around the sinking horse's whithers. Chet and Stoker took Gage's rope
to offer him some leverage. "Okay, keep talking to her. I'm going down to see
how she's doing." Gage told the woman.

The woman blurted out nervously. "Do you know what you're doing? I mean,
you're just a paramedic.." 

Gage smiled as his legs sank down into the chilled ooze. "I own four horses 
myself and I've been around most others all my life. I'm fair when it comes to 
providing first aid for them. You could say I have a natural affinity." he said,
thinking of his roots.

The woman finally noticed the color of his skin. "I'm sorry. I'm just..." the 
woman flushed.

"..frightened. We know." said Roy. "It's okay. You want her rescued fast
before anything bad happens and believe it or not, so do we. Why don't you 
stand over here by me and keep a hold of Trixie's new rope. Keep her 
nose up out of the water so she won't start panicking while trying to breathe
so close to the water's surface."

Marco threw a tarp over the horse's flanks to build up some body heat.

"Whoa girl.. Easy now.." said Gage as he lowered himself closer to
the mare's head where it flopped in the slime. He reached around and
felt the pulse point under her jawbone. "It's fast, weak. Her gums are
off color. She needs oxygen. All this mud's caving in against her ribcage 
whenever she kicks."

Cap's eyebrows went up. "Do we even have anything that might work 
that way?"

Johnny looked up with a shrug. 
"Sure, a regular mask on high flow'll work just fine. Just... stick it right
against one of her nostrils and hold it there. Horses breathe through 
their noses only until they absolutely have no other choice in the matter. 
Don't let her body size throw you off. Her lungs aren't that big."

"Okay... Stoker, you heard Doctor Doolittle here, start ventilating her
on some pure O2, pal." he chuckled. "And I know what else we're gonna
be needing past a good veterinarian..."

Gage looked up from where he was scooping out some mud from
the mare's dull eye. "Oh, and what's that?" he grunted from where he
sat, waist deep in mud.

"More muscle. I'm calling in L.A.F.D. City. They're the strongest firemen
we've got for pulling. No machinery's gonna be able to move in through 
all this soft ground. It's gonna be us.. versus her, earth's gravity, and the 
mud." Stanley said no nonsense.

Gage nodded in agreement. "Yeah. Guess you're right, Cap. There are 
no convenient trees overhead to rig a pulley onto for an engine back up." 
he said, looking up.

Roy was dabbing at the mare's neck right over a large vein, with an alcohol
swab. "Ma'am, can we treat her further? She's most likely very dehydrated." 
Roy asked the owner. "The least we can do is start her on some fluid flow."

"Yes. Go ahead. Do anything you have to do, please, just get her out of there.
My poor baby. Just relax, we're all here.." she soothed.

The mare gave out a pitiful whinny and she gave up trying to free herself.
Her head flopped back into the muck and her one upturned eye closed 
tightly in fear.

Johnny quickly hauled up on her halter to keep her from drowning. He
set the horse's caked head into his lap where Mike with the oxygen, could
reach it.  "She's a fighter. Or she would've been dead hours ago." he told 
the owner. "She's still hanging in there." he grinned.

"She was a preemie. Born two weeks too soon. But she got up on her feet
right away despite of not being able to nurse for hours until her muscles
loosen up." said the woman proudly. But then the tears flowed. "She can't
go now. Not like this.." she cried. "Oh, Trixie.." 

The mare began to gasp, and shiver in all of her limbs in the cold mud. Her
owner's distress was effecting her own. 

Cap came over to lead the woman away. "Come on, let's go meet the vet 
so you can give him your horse's age and history so he'll know better how 
to treat her once he gets here."

Once they were gone, Roy eyed his partner. "Johnny, what do we use for her 
I.V.?  Do you know?"

"Plain, normal saline. One of our burn irrigation bags are big enough.
Eighteen gauge into a jugular. Don't worry about pushing too much. Giving 
4 to 5 liters first is common for starting horse surgeries so I've learned."

"About here?" Roy asked, poking at the sluggish ropey vein.

"Yeah. Afterwards, do a piggyback saline lock under her jaw. The doc's 
probably gonna want to give her a stimulant after we get her out of here." 
Gage said. "Tape it off normally. There's no way she can dislodge the site with
her forefeet. She can't reach up that high without bending her neck." Johnny
offered. "And that, she's not gonna wanna do anyway, because down means 
burying her muzzle deeper into the mud. It goes against her instincts."

"Whatever you say, junior. You're leading this one.  I'm way out of my element 
here. It's been eleven years since I've drilled skills in an animal lab."

"Yeah, well, a horse is no different than a large dog anatomy wise. I wish we
we could shift her onto her belly. Her internal organs weight is suffocating her."

"I'll start digging around her." said Chet, flinching a little when the mare twitched.

"She's too tired to move now, Chet. It's okay. You're safe around her." Gage told
Kelly.

"But not the mud, get into a safety belt.." Hank said, returning. "The doc's here."
he announced.

Doc Barney Coolidge arrived, still wearing street clothes and a civilian hat. 
"I came as fast as I could. Johnny, how are her vital signs?"

"Slowing from normal." Gage told him. "Also, she's no longer tearing up." he
said, tapping on her cornea with a clean finger. "Skin's still pale pink, though.
So's her tongue. Stoker pulled it out a minute ago when she started snoring."

"Okay. How are her legs?" asked the Doc.

"All four are intact and were kicking quite nicely ten minutes ago." Chet grunted as 
he and Marco dug futilely at the river ooze that was trying to rebury the white 
mare again.

"All right. Let's assume no spinal or limb trauma. Her owner says she's a four year
old so her neck is strong enough to withstand the whole weight of her body. That's
where we're going to fasten the main ropes to get her out of there." Coolidge planned
out. "Roy, how's that coming?" he asked of the intranvenous line DeSoto was taping 
off.

"It's running. Wide open. And there's a mandibular saline lock waiting for her 
medicinal kick in the tail."

"In good time, boys. I want a multiple set of arms at her head first to help
this mare as she climbs out once her shoulders are free. Nice job with the tarp.
Her shivering's steaming up her muscles enough to move soon." he said, feeling 
under it. "Ma'am, do you have a horse trailer nearby and some dry blankets?"

The owner nodded eagerly. "Yes,.. I'll...I'll go get them.." and she dashed off
down the river trail for the ranch.

Doc Coolidge knelt near the edge of the mire and nestled close to one of the mare's
ears. "Easy, dear. She'll be back. I just want you to keep resting until the other
firemen get here. I promise we'll all help you get out of all this nasty stuff you've fallen
into just as soon as it's humanly possible. Can you wink at me yet?" he asked the 
horse.

The mare snorted, blowing out a muddy mist. But she didn't move.

"Here, chew on that for a while." Coolidge said softly, shoving a sugar 
cube into her mouth from his tan coat's pocket.

Shuddering, the horse opened the screwed shut eye and regarded the vet
with a growing calmness as she was cleverly distracted from her plight. The 
long tongue retracted back inside her mouth as she used it to crunch away on 
the sweet square. "Here you go, Johnny. Better than smelling salts. Keep 
feeding them to her. As much as she wants." he said, pouring out a bunch 
into Johnny's muddy hand. "Keep that O2 on her, too. She's probably got
a ton of lactic acid built up in her system from working so hard trying to get her
feet under herself inside that hole. I'll numb her up some so she'll try to stand 
on her own in spite of it after I jumpstart her energy reserves with some 
nor-epinephrine when the boys are ready."  
Sirens grew in the distance as the rig from Los Angeles finally arrived.
"Ah, there they are. That was fast. Are you ready for this?" asked the kindly 
Doc Coolidge of the firemen and the horse.

Station 51's crew nodded. "Any time you are, doc."
And in response, the mare sloshed her heavily mired tail as if swatting at a fly.

"Good. This won't take long." he said, rubbing his cherub-like hands
together. "No siree. Won't be long at all before Trixie here's warming up
on hot mash and sweet oats comfortably at home." he said, drawing up
a hefty horse dose of stimulant into a syringe from his black bag.

L.A. City poured into the thicket, looking down at the mare who was
finally looking up at them. "Okay, honey. Are you ready for your heroes to
come save the day? You sure look like one h*ll of a damsel in distress.." 
said one lieutenant to the mud slicked horse.

Trixie swivelled both of her ears forward and neighed as loudly as she could.
Her impatient sound was unmistakable and it made everybody chuckle.

"Yep. She's gonna make it." mumbled Coolidge to himself. "And all it 
took was a little hoof holding."

----------------------------------------------------------------------------------
Johnny could still taste acrid muck in the back of his throat. 
"D*mmit. And I brushed my teeth twice. Never let it be said
that California has great tasting natural ground water."

"Oh, yeah?" said Roy, pouring him a cup of fresh coffee as he
watched Johnny comb his freshly shower cleaned hair. "I got just
the thing to fix that." And he slapped down two sugar cubes onto the
table top with a grin.

Gage grimaced, taking delicious satisfaction as he aimed his sights 
maliciously as he finger flicked them both right back at his partner 
one at a time when Cap wasn't looking. "Funny man. I oughta.."

Zingg.. ZooOOOMm!  Roy ducked and deflected them with
a pot holder as he laughed openly.

Marco snickered from where he was studying the new guidelines
they had been ordered to cover before noon. "Say, guys. Did
you see what's on page fifteen?  These conditions they're listing 
aren't gonna be quite so easy to handle as the others have been." he 
said.

"Oh, yeah? I'm not that far ahead yet." said Stanley. "What does it say?"

Lopez told him. "Current speeds can reach up to thirty five miles
an hour across rapids breaking barriers and through all side diverting 
shunting conduits."

"For how long?" Cap asked, worrying a little. 

"For about twenty minutes. As long as the time scheduled release flows."

"That's gonna suck." said Chet. "Cap, how are we supposed to grab onto
anybody flashing by us in the river at that speed? Even our zip line can't
fire out thread that fast."

Hank looked crestfallen. "That's what we're gonna haveta figure out guys.
The ball's in our court. It's every station for itself until solutions are found."

"What a way to force inventions out into the open." Chet moped in his chair.
"Oh, how I wish this was just another friendly competition. My head really
hurts."

"So does my stomach." said Marco. "Can we eat now?"

"Yeah, go ahead." Cap said, lost in the paperwork Marco had pointed out.
"Uh, could somebody get something for me, too? I wanna.. study this..
some..."

"Yeah, I got it." said Roy, rising.

Mike Stoker shot out of his seat at the first scent of oysters and he fled
the room without saying a word. The gang looked up in concern until
they heard the sound of the engine's driver door opening and closing quickly.

They relaxed. "He's gone to get the map." said Cap. "He always problem
solves much better off by himself. I'll bring him his lunch later."

"Okay.." said Johnny seriously, still watching the way Stoker had gone.

The tones went off twenty five minutes later and it was everything
they feared would happen.

##Station 51. Truck 85. Child over a bridge in the L.A. River bed.
12994  McKennet Point. 12994 McKennet Point. Cross street,
Wilmington. Time out :  11:40.##

"Let's go. Let's go!" shouted Cap. "It's twenty minutes until the 
the first controlled flashflood. Move it. That's only two blocks away.."

-------------------------------------------------------------

Photo:  Cap and Stoker struggling with a weight.

Photo:   A horse wearing an oxygen mask near firefighters.

Photo:   The vet, Doc Barney Coolidge, wearing a hat.

Photo:    A horse lying down with an I.V. in place.

Photo:    Roy, treating while looking down, outside.

Photo:    Firefighters having a fun time rescuing a horse.

Photo:    Cap, discussing near Chet, over soup bowls.

Photo:    The L.A. County Aqueduct.

Photo:     A bridge over the L.A. River bed.

**************************************************
From: "Cassidy Meyers" <killashandrarey@hotmail.com>
Subject: The Life Broken..
Date: Tue, 01 May 2007 01:42:47 


Station 51 was the first at the scene.

Stanley got on his HT to wide broadcast. ##Squad 51, block off the 
bridge on the north side perpendicular to the road. We'll cover the south. 
I'll notify additional PD to reroute all traffic.##

##10-4, Cap.## replied Gage through the frequency.

Roy DeSoto parked quickly, straddling the double yellow no passing line, 
obstructing two lanes. The Ward, did the rest on the opposite side of the 
concrete river bridge. 

Hank Stanley leaped out of the engine cab and was met by a CHiPs police 
officer who left the open door of his highway cruiser."He's down there hanging 
on one of the foot pilings." said the officer. 

"Is he injured?" Hank asked.

"Not that I can tell. His friends said he climbed down on a dare. He hasn't spoken
yet to me but I think he's only petrified by the speed of the moving water." the 
cop reported. "He's gripping the edge pretty tight."

The rest of the gang instantly moved for ropes, high angle gear, and gloves
from the trucks.

"All right. We'll take it from here." said Stanley, unhappily eyeing the pedestrian 
spectators and other gawkers that had already gathered on the causeway to watch.

The policeman nodded and jogged off to chase away the last of the cars 
jammed up on the bridge that had been gliding slowly by out of curiosity.

Hank waited the half minute it took his men to get fitted into safety equipment.
"Just the one." he told them. "Skip the spinal precautions. He's not hurt." 

Roy let out the breath he was holding. "Cap, we'll eyeball what we're gonna
need." said DeSoto as he and Johnny made for the high railing overlooking
the river along the sidewalk.

"Make it fast." Stanley said, looking at his watch. "Marco. Go be an upstream 
lookout. Grab yourself a radio and switch to Tach 2. I'll get us an open mutual
aid frequency there through L.A. in a minute. Chet. Go lay out  three lifelines 
thirty yards apart on our side of the riverbank for when the downstream safety 
crews get here. Coordinate with Truck 85 when they arrive and get three men 
each on a line. Make sure their end man is securely belted in and held at the 
ready. Stoker, keep an eye on him." he said, pointing down at the boy in the 
river below.  

"Cap?" asked Johnny, not needing to elaborate, asking the question.

Hank let out the pursed breath he was holding. "Okay. Get down there to him 
after tying yourself off the engine. I also want one of you to keep watching the 
water upstream for signs of beginning flood. Set your watches for noon exactly. 
I estimate that we'll have only five minutes or so afterwards to get him out of
there once the release begins. Mike, keep talking to him. I'll be right with you."

They scattered to do their assigned tasks swiftly. 

Cap pulled out his HT antennae again and started broadcasting their situation.
"Engine 51, L.A. Confirmed one male juvenile on a bridge foot at the McKennet 
Point overpass. Water velocity is ten to fifteen, still pre-release at normal height. 
We need a swift water response of five engines, USAR One, an air squad, and a
Battalion to coordinate and set up an Incident Command Post on the north side
of the river closest to the victim. Also I'm requesting Tach 2 priority for all further 
company communications. This rescue will be shore based."

##L.A, Engine 51. Tach 2 is yours. Relaying your message to all agencies.
USAR reports an E.T.A. of ten minutes. Battalion Seven in three.## 

::Not fast enough. Not fast enough for us at all.:: Cap thought, looking at his watch
again nervously. ::Why didn't I push for getting outfitted with proper water gear 
a little harder last year?:: he chided himself derisively. ::We're not ready. We've
got nothing completely safe to work with.::  "10-4, L.A. " Hank looked down with 
worry at the small boy in the black shirt still clinging to the cement diverter. He 
could hear Stoker giving encouragement to the boy using a hand held megaphone. 
The engineer's voice was full of strain and anxiety that he was keeping barely 
hidden despite all his years of experience. ::Kid calls are the worst.:: Hank agreed. 
Stanley took up his position on the very middle of the bridge, and he began a wait. 

-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

"In a minute, two firemen will be right with you. We're coming down right now. 
What's your name, son?" asked Stoker, aiming his speaker down. 

The trembling boy didn't look up or answer.

Stoker balled his gloved fists on the railing in frustration. "It's okay. I know
you're scared. Keep hanging on just like your doing. Can you get your
other leg over the other side of that barrier? Straddle it, like you're
riding a horse. Your balance'll be better then. Can you do that for me?"

The child didn't respond one bit. His fingers remained gripping white in color
and locked down deep into the moss growing all around him. One shoe was
already dragging in the water as the boy's muscles grew more fatigued and
Stoker could see he was beginning to have difficulty keeping it lifted out of
the river long enough to ease its constant drag on the rest of his body.

Roy and Gage moved quietly as they laid their turnouts on the rail to prevent rope
rub. Johnny was the one decided to dangle himself above the boy while Roy got
set to lower him further on a half hitch using the Ward's bumper as a winch.
Both remained vocally quiet so they wouldn't startle the boy.

Stoker's watch went off and everybody flinched as the noon hour begain sounding. 
Mike began to breathe faster. ::Not now. Oh, why now? He's still trapped.::  
The engineer's mouth went dry and his eyes flickered far upstream to the visible 
mountain and the aqueduct threading down it. His heart began to pound as an
unwelcome surge of adrenalin suddenly gripped him.

The cascade, had begun. In the distance, a roar was growing steadily as cubic
tons of water entered the newly channeled river as it was released from the higher 
reservoir.

Cap shot into action. "Everybody! I want a solution. Right now!" he said to all of
his men through his walkie talkie right as Truck 85 arrived to assist them and
bailed out all its personnel.

Stoker could only hear the pulse racing in his ears as the morning's stress built
to a head. He dropped the megaphone to his side and his eyes slammed shut
as he began to think frantically. He gripped his shirt front reflexively as his
heart pounded in his chest.

Long seconds dragged like nails in the air as everybody froze at the order.

Then Stoker shouted.
"Cap, I think I got it!" he said, trying to ignore the din of his heart's fast beating.

##Go.## Hank encouraged quickly.

Stoker improvised, gasping softly, his emotions jumbling chaotically.
"Uh,... rig ,,,rig..a hose on a rope.. Through it, like a leader. It's light. It'll float.. 
Use it as a catch. You and I can drape it in the water around the boy in a "U". 
When he's washed out, he'll snag on it for sure at the waist. It'll buy us more 
time for Johnny to get to him." he panted, legs trembling.

Hank nodded, casting his head heavenwards in instant gratitude. "DeSoto. You
got one minute left. Then get ready to haul Gage out of there pronto!" he shouted. 
"We've figured out a fast rigged backup. Don't risk yourselves past that any later." 
he hollered.

Both paramedics nodded from where they were, Johnny still dangling 
suspended, with Roy, spotting him.

Cap ran for the Ward and so did Mike in a desperate dash to enable the
quickly improvised plan. 

Johnny could see the beginnings of new agitation in the boy as the child 
started to realize his new impending peril. The last thing the paramedic wanted 
was for him to start panicking. "Don't turn around to look or you'll fall. I'm right 
above ya! Just don't move! I'm almost grabbing you." Gage gasped, keeping 
his eyes on a deceptively beautiful twinkle a half mile down the horizon. It was 
the wall of arriving water. It had already found the river's flatter bed and was 
speeding smoothly towards them at thirty five miles an hour.

A sucking sound snaked and echoed around them. The air temperature 
dropped several degrees as moisture billowed out ahead of the flood.

Hank and Stoker worked hard to thread a rope through one of the short black
accordian feeder hoses that was always fastened to the driver's side of the 
LaFrance. Then, when they were done, they dragged the whole apparatus
across the road to the edge in their arms. 

"Gage! Heads up! Watch him!" Hank hollered.
Their warning completed, they flipped the rigging over the side of the bridge
like an arching jump rope, on the downstream side, where the boy was. 
It smacked the water with a splash and they tied it off their rope ends to either 
side of Roy snugly. 

Breathing hard, Mike and Cap leaned their hands on their knees in relief
while the others took over. But still wanting to see the situation, they pulled 
themselves up on the railing and looked down, exhausted.

Johnny swung the last three feet towards the boy just as the crest of
rapid water hit. It swept violently into both of them.  The child screamed but
the floating hose section caught him neatly at the waist, bending him in half.
He was only under the water by himself for a couple of seconds until Johnny 
grabbed a hold of his pants top and hauled him up into his arms.

Seeing the rescue connect, Chet and Marco and a team from 85's hauled
in on Gage's life belt guiding rope that Roy had thrown to them, pulling him 
neatly to the concrete slope of the river bank below the bridge.

Spitting out silty water, Johnny shoved the boy in front of him. "Grab that 
rope and climb out!" he shouted over the din of the rapids.  The boy did so, his
paralysis long broken by the shock of cold water. A kick to his butt sent him
sprawling into waiting firefighter arms and a warm blanket. Then Johnny was 
dragged out by his rope on his stomach to the dry cement. Firefighters helped 
him to his slippery feet and all of them retreated just in time, escaping the rising 
water as the replenishment flood quickly peaked in the channel where they 
had been.

Gasping in exhaustion, Johnny grabbed the boy. "You okay?" he yelled over
the din of the raging river.

The boy nodded and began crying as he reached out to grip Gage around
the neck in a fierce and still frightened hug. He didn't let go.

Smiling, Johnny picked him up and carried him back onto the bridge.

Stoker was still squatting against the bridge railing wall with his jacket flung off at 
his feet when Roy and Johnny began a vitals set on the boy from Truck 85's bumper.
"How's he doing?" Mike asked, still trying to catch his breath from where he and Cap
were resting.

"Not a single scratch." grinned Roy, setting a BP cuff around the boy's arm.

"Good." said Stoker, burying his head onto his knees where he puffed. "I'm
glad. Just......good." he stammered, still coming down from his fight or flight 
jitters. "It worked! It really worked." he said, still not smiling.

"I'm proud of you, Mike. That was the slickest rescue idea I've ever seen thought
up on the fly." said Hank, patting his shoulder. "We'll submit that one a.s.a.p. to
the chief when he gets here. Maybe with that in place, no more kids'll end up in a 
fatal sudden swim today."

Only then, did Mike allow himself to smile. The moment was bitter and sweet.

The captain of Station 85 saw their victim resolution and he cancelled all 
responding units over the airwaves.

An olive skinned girl burst through the cheering crowd and shouted. "Anton? 
Just what kind of trouble did you get into now? Mom's gonna kill ya."

"Ma'am, is this your little brother?" said Gage to the adult aged woman.

"Yeah. Is he okay?"

"Yep. He's a little water logged but only on the outside thankfully. You might want to 
tell him about the new flash flood schedule and about how he can't play down in the 
riverbed any more like he's used to doing." Roy shared, putting away their medical
gear.

"Oh, believe me. I will." she said fiercely, taking him by the ear. "Can I take him 
home now?"

"Sure. But first, I'd talk to that police officer over there. I'm afraid your little
brother's got some serious explaining to do about why the whole Los Angeles 
County Fire Department had to be called out here for him today."

"Don't worry. Those gums are gonna flap or my belt's gonna start to fly!
Come on, Anton. Let's go pay your dues. You're gonna take anything they
dish out to you, like a man." she scolded the boy.

Sullenly, the still dripping Anton followed his angry sister over to the CHiP 
lieutenant who was waiting by his squad car with an open notebook.

All of their HTs went off in a triple hailing beep. It was L.A. ##Station 51. L.A. 
Air reports that a drag race was going on in the bed just below his current position
over Griffith Park. The flood threatened to overtake the two vehicles. They got out 
of danger but the pilot reports one of the automobiles has suffered a high speed 
rollover in a dry hillside channel. He's reporting one ejected who isn't the driver.##

"Let's go." said Hank. "L.A., inform our B.C. We're on the way. KMG 365." he
acknowledged. Then he pocketed his HT. "Chet, leave those lines. We've got
plenty more to cover ourselves."  Kelly abandoned the rope coils he had been
rewrapping on the ground. Cap shaded his eyes under his helmet and squinted
up into the sky. "He's right over the middle of the park." he said about the fire
department helicopter. "He's landing in McGregor's Square?"

"I know the place." said Mike snatching up his coat again, not caring that his 
uniform shirt was wide open and untucked while he tried to cool himself down
inside of his sweat drenched T-shirt. "We're four minutes away."

--------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
Engine 51 and Squad 51 roared up the dry side river channel parallel to a rainwash
overflow draining trench a few minutes later and what met their eyes, was
horrifying as the stench of blood curled in the wind and flowed into their open 
windows.

The landed helicopter pilot standing on the overlook slab above them was 
pointing urgently down, right at them. Then he gave a wave when he saw
them get out of the vehicles in the proper spot.

"Oh, my G*d." said Cap, stepping out of his door. He got on the dash mic
immediately. "Engine 51. L.A. We've victims times five at our location. Trauma
is apparent with heavy vehicular damage. Send another helicopter response, urban 
rescue and three paramedic units A.S.A.P. to the wash channel immediately 
below McGregor's Overlook."

##10-4, Engine 51.## Multiple tones floated out as aid was called in en mass.

Cap and Stoker ran to the car first while Johnny and Roy emptied out all their
medical gear onto the ground and rapidly put on extrication gloves behind them.

Hank and Mike skidded to a halt as an awake female staggered out of the car
and began pointing to a high school aged, alcohol reeking, male driver emerging
from the wreckage. Both were without a single major injury. 

"It's all his fault!" screamed the hispanic girl. "You killed them you useless son
of a---" she sobbed, pointing at him, grief stricken, with a finger. "Why did you
have to drive so fast? We were already safe." she sobbed violently, wilting to 
her knees onto the hot ground.

Cap and Mike immediately went for the young male teen thrust through the windshield
on the hood while Chet and Marco began checking another bloody male and female 
lying motionless near and under the car. Stoker pulled off a glove and felt for a carotid
on the first teenager. "Cap, he's ...he's long dead. I think he bled out through his neck." 
he said, his pulse racing in horror.

"Both of these victims are gone, too." said Kelly, kicking away beer cans and the
glass of a shattered wine bottle away from his shoes. "They've ALL been drinking."
he said angrily. 

A gasp from a new quarter stunned them as Roy DeSoto, hurrying with the drug
and I.V. boxes, froze in place.  His mouth gaped open and he immediately
dropped them, paling. A wordless choke issued from his lips, his eyes never leaving 
the white face of the blond haired fatality lying on his back and throat mangled on the 
hood.

Johnny Gage grabbed his arm. "Roy, what's wrong? What happened?" he asked
sharply.

DeSoto spoke, completely numb. 
"....chris..??.."

"What?!" Gage exclaimed. He rivetted on the young man's face and then 
he knew like his partner did, beyond any shred of a doubt. The Code F lying 
broken in front of them, was Roy's son.
 
---------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Photo:  The gang gathered by the firetrucks.

Photo:  Cap overlooking a roof edge with an HT.

Photo:   Marco tying off a fast rope.

Photo:   Roy and Chet preparing life belts.

Photo:   A flash flooding river.

Photo:   A boy being rescued from the L.A. riverbed.

Photo:   Boy hanging onto a rope in a flood.

Photo:   L.A.F.D. Helicopter landed.

Photo:  Stoker running by Engine 51.

Photo:  Two car crash victims in a rollover.

Photo:   Station 51 at a car crash, L.A. River bed.

Photo:   Hispanic woman pointing at another man.

Photo:   An ejected Code F on the hood of a car.

Photo:   Roy in a helmet on his stomach, in shock.

**************************************************
From: Patti or Jeff or Cassidy <theaterhost@voyagerliveaction.com> 
Date: Wed May 2, 2007 6:14 am 
Subject: Tight Focus.. 

DeSoto ran over to Chris and grabbed at his motionless
stomach, trying to act. To think...

Roy's face contorted into a rictus of shock and grief and he
immediately vomited. Johnny hung onto him. "Roy,.. don't
look at him... Don't...look!" he cried in a whisper, pulling Roy's
helmet off to free up his face. He quickly turned his partner's
head, breaking his eye contact with Chris's body as he emptied
his stomach into the riverbed's shallows.

Hank left Stoker by the car and took DeSoto by the shoulders,
forcing him to turn bodily around once he was through getting ill.
He supported his fireman, starting to lead him protectively away 
from the sight and smell of death and sun cooking beer. Stanley 
gave a soft order to the rest of the gang, still locked and frozen 
behind him. "C-..Cover them up. All of them right now." he hissed 
with pain. "But first, you've got to....move him off the......to snip that 
battery before.."

"Yeah. We'll get it, Cap." Lopez said with a dry mouth, trembling.

"Gage." said Stanley. "Look after those other two, best you can. I'm..."

"Cap, just get Roy well away from here." Johnny said, his face setting into 
a grim, going on guts expression. "He shouldn't have to see..." and he
choked off, getting angry even as the tears began filling his eyes.

"We're on it, Cap. Go with him." said Chet, interrupting, insisting firmly.

Hank nodded. ::He'll be able to work.:: Stanley thought about Gage.
"Come on, Roy. Come with me. Let's go right now... We're gonna
walk someplace else." he spoke quietly into his ear.

Huge, almost silent, wracking sobs erupted into horrified cries of 
emotional agony a few seconds later as hard concrete reality worked its 
way inside DeSoto's mind mercilessly. He had become the father who
was hopelessly lost and he was no longer in charge of anything.

Stanley hugged Roy tightly around his shoulders and he said, "I know it. Keep 
walking this way.." he said, voice breaking, as tears streamed down his own 
face. "We're gonna wash your hands off."

DeSoto's eyes were locked onto the sight of his son's blood on his fingers.

Cap covered them with a gripping glove, hiding them. "This way. The reel line's 
over here."

He guided Roy to the view obstructing bulk of the engine. 

------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
Gage went to the two teenagers sitting on the ground. He talked after fiercely
wiping his streaming nose. A noise of pain escaped him as he fought
down his own reaction. But then he said, "Are you guys hurt.... anywhere?"

They were silent, upright, and didn't answer. Gage knelt and then he quickly 
pat down swept across them with his hands, looking for wounds and he briefly 
checked their eyes using the sunlight. "How much have you had to drink?"

"Two beers.." they both mumbled.

Johnny got mad. "Not very likely.." he hissed to himself. "All right. Can you 
both stand? We're getting away from the car in case it catches."

"They're gonna burn up in a fire?!" sobbed the girl, becoming suddenly 
animated in her drunken state. Gage prevented her from getting to her feet so she 
couldn't run over to her dead friends. The alcohol on her breath issued forth, 
heavily sour and fetid.

Gage turned his head, trying not to make a face of disgust.

From the corner of his eye, Johnny could see Stoker and Kelly gathering up Chris's 
body's limbs to set him onto the ground so they could open the car's torn hood to end 
any sparking risks from its power source.  A yellow tarp covered his head now 
but a limp arm slipped free of it unknowingly to dangle down limply. Johnny could see 
several fingers had been broken. They were still bleeding.  He sucked in a careful
breath. "..no...no...." he said quietly. "There's too much water around down by them. 
They're soaked. And Chris,.. is being moved off the car." he said graphically. The 
simple ugly truth did its work and the girl stopped her hysterics. 

Both the murdering driver, and she, began answering all of his medical questions.

Not long after that, the police arrived.

-----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

All Stoker could think about was how big Roy's son had grown since he had
seen the last photograph Roy had offered him in the station's locker room. "I never
got to meet him, Chet."  He grunted a bit at his heaviness as they carried Chris
over to the concrete slope of the river. "I had no idea he was in high school now."

"I think I knew." Kelly said tightly, his face twisted in pain. "Roy mentioned he was
teasing Chris about not passing his driver's permit test. And about how he did it 
anyway last spring."

Stoker's heart pounded in his chest louder and louder as his surroundings got
more and more unreal to his perceptions. ::No one should have to live through
this. It's not fair.::  he thought. "Oh, G*d this is hard." he gasped, stricken, to
himself.

"All right, I'm setting him down." warned Kelly, as he pivotted to lower Chris's
head and upper body gently onto the massive stone slab wall. "We should find 
out for him, Stoker. So he doesn't have to wait and hear it from the coroner."

Mike staggered, panting as he released his burden. "Do it. Check him." he
sobbed. "It's the only thing left we can do." he cried softly, re-covering the body's 
broken legs. He dodged a sudden stream of dark blood that ran out from under 
the stained tarp unconsciously before it could touch his knees and that made 
his odd growing nausea rise even higher.

Kelly exposed Chris's chalky bluish white face and tipped up his chin, 
opening his mouth. Reluctantly, bending near, with tears flowing, he 
slowly sniffed. Then he shook his head eagerly."He's clear. Not a bit of 
it." he sniffled tearfully. "The stuff's only on his clothes. From all the spilling 
in the crash.." He tried to smile.

"He was the designated driver?" Stoker read Chet's face, feeling a chest 
tightness for the first time where he toe crouched, hunched over on his hands. 

"Yeah, maybe. Only it was...far too late." Chet whispered. "We should tell
Roy, Mike. Just as soon as we can. I don't want Roy to think any longer that
Chris died while on some stupid *ss drinking binge."

The world spun, and dizziness clamped down. Stoker had time enough to
lift his head. "Chet. Something's..wrong with me.. I can't.....br---"

Mike Stoker lost consciousness then and fell. He tumbled down the concrete
river slope bonelessly to land in the skin deep water flowing, golden sand at 
the bottom.

-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Stoker awoke to the sound of loud beeping. It was an EKG monitor sounding
out an alarm, reading acute cardiac distress.

"Mike.. Can you hear me?" he heard a familiar voice ask urgently. "Come on,
open your eyes if you can."

Mike gasped under a demand valve pressed over his face, and did it. 
He startled when pure oxygen sucked into his lungs easily. The first thing 
he saw was the tall trunk of a palm tree lying right next to his cheek 
and the lofty green crown of it sticking into the sky. Panicking, he tried to sit
up, to end the smothering feeling he was fighting. He was eased upright and
held against someone's lap and hands. Stoker reached out desperately, 
choking, still trying to draw in a full breath.

"What is it?" Kelly asked a worried, hovering Gage about the engineer.

Johnny listened to Stoker's lungs and heart closely with a stethoscope,
pressing his lips together. "I don't know yet. Just keep offering him
ventilations if he still needs them."

To Mike, there were only swimming shadows of blue on blue. And black.
He did not seem to be able to recognize his crewmates. Chet steadied
Stoker's head, speaking soft encouragements as he helped him oxygenate.

Cap leaned in closer where he stood over them. "Is this... Is Mike having 
an M.I.?"

"It's too soon to tell, Cap." Gage's voice quavered. "I'm calling Rampart.." 
Johnny said, snatching for the biophone. "His pulse rate's off the scale."

---------------------------------------------------------------

Photo:  Stoker and Cap working desperately with tools.

Photo:  Cap grimacing in emotional strain.

Photo:  Gage, grief stricken in a helmet.

Photo:  Cap, leading a shoulder supported Roy away.

Photo:  A yellow tarp covered body.

Photo:  A palm tree, looking up.

Photo:  A fireman on an EKG.

Photo:   Gage working on someone quickly.

Photo:   Marco and Chet giving assisted oxygen to someone.

Photo:   An EKG showing ventricular tachycardia at 180 bpm.

Photo:   Gage calling on the biophone in sunlight.

****************************************************
From :  Patti or Jeff or Cassidy <theaterhost@voyagerliveaction.com> 
Sent :  Wednesday, May 2, 2007 11:36 AM 
Subject :  The Limbo Effect.. 

"Rampart, this is HT 51. How do you read?" Johnny hailed.

Hank winced at the omission of the squad's title.

Gage looked up as he impatiently waited for a doctor to come
onto the line. The tears that were falling down his face, one by one, 
wouldn't stop. "Where's Roy?" he asked, clearing his throat.

"Vince's with him." Hank answered immediately. "He's not
letting him out of his sight or allowing him to get into view of us. 
What do you want us to do for Mike next?"

"Keep him warm. See if he can do a Valsalva maneuver. If that doesn't 
work, start massaging a carotid artery. I already checked his neck. He doesn't 
have any bruits. Rub one only on a single side while watching the monitor. If 
he goes brady,.. uh,..... let me know." Gage gasped, thinking hard through his 
scrambling emotions. "And check him for head or spinal injuries. I know he 
didn't fall far, but it looked like he rolled fast."

The gang got to work.

"He's breathing fine, Johnny. Normally." Kelly shared as he loosened
Stoker's belt buckle by reaching down over him. Mike was sweaty, shivering,
and his skin was hot in spite of his color being so pale.

Gage nodded, almost breaking his green pen's point on his paramedic notepad 
around the vital signs notations he didn't remember scribbling down. There was 
a bloody fingerprint on the paper....He closed his eyes, trying to get a hold of
himself.

##Squad 51, this is Rampart.## Dr. Brackett replied with puzzlement to
Gage's unusual identification declaration. ##I'm reading you loud and clear.##

"Rampart, we've a Code I--" Gage's voice broke and he stopped talking for long
tortured seconds.  Stanley set a hand on his arm and squeezed it in comfort 
without looking at him.

##Johnny, I didn't hear all of that. You broke up. Repeat your transmission.##
Kel asked firmly, thinking faulty airwaves were to blame.

Gage swallowed dryly, got a hold of his wits, and then he turned totally paramedic.
"Doc, we've a Code I, recovering from a sinkable episode and falling log 
roll of about fifteen feet. He's exhibiting supraventricular tachycardia of undetermined 
origin. On lead II, he's showing a rate of 180, skin's hot, non-flushed and very 
diaphoretic. He's somewhat stuperous and partially non-reactive to verbal commands.
BP is 150 over 90, respirations were irregular initially, but now at twenty, deep
and regular on one hundred percent O2. We're attempting Valsalva and carotid 
massage. Request permission for an I.V. and a dose of standby Adenocard."

##Go ahead with that injection I.V. push with a 500 cc bag of Normal Saline if 
his cardiac rate doesn't slow down with those vagal maneuvers in two minutes. 
Send me a strip, A.S.A.P. Then wire him for a twelve lead. I want to see what's 
happening more clearly, 51. Is he showing any signs of obvious injury that might 
be related to his recent fall?##

"Negative, Rampart." Gage reported when he got head shakes from Marco, Cap
and Chet. "But,...he's...under some unusual stress currently." he said. ::We all are.::
came his thought, unbidden. ::Killer stress.:: "And he's had a lot of caffeine today
in the form of coffee. Ok, I'm sending you a strip."

##Ok, 51. Watch for any rhythm degeneration into V-Fib. It might come with this kind of 
arrythmia.## Kel said after studying the feed into his base station. ##I'm suspecting
these findings are mostly paroxysmal. Is he experiencing any chest pain?##

"Negative, Rampart. Just some tightness." Johnny said when Marco shook his head.
"Also, his chest sounds are clear, without any signs of pulmonary edema."

##Okay, we'll hold off using nitroglycerin, MS and baby aspirin for now until we've 
tried just about everything else.## Dr. Brackett mapped out.

Chet looked up from Mike. "Johnny, he bore down twice for me, while holding 
his breath, but I don't think it's helping." Kelly said, still rubbing the left side of 
Stoker's neck with carefully pressed in knuckles.

##I see that, too.## said Kel, looking at the places where only subtle changes occurred
while Mike tightened the muscles of his abdomen. ##Rate's staying the same.
Ok, let's cease carotid massage. Johnny, go ahead and push that adenosine rapidly, 
followed by a 10ml saline flush into the port. If that doesn't work, we'll try a ß-blocker.##

"10-4, doc."  Then he startled when something swept by on the monitor. He
shouted. "Dr. Brackett, I think I just saw a Delta wave." And Gage went even chalkier.

Brackett became a steady presence, realizing that something else was very amiss apart
from a firefighter being down with palpitations. He spoke no nonsense, making sure he
got through to Johnny in the most effective way possible. ##That doesn't effect our 
plans one iota. His treatment's still the same. Just get yourselves more ready to 
handle any possible adverse outcomes. Carry out my orders to the letter, Johnny, 
and right now. He needs chemical or electrically paced conversion immediately.##

Gage leaned down and took Stoker by the sides of his face where he lay puffing
under the positive pressure mask. "Mike, I'm going to be giving you some medication 
and it's gonna make you feel kinda lousy for about a minute. It's not too fun. You might 
feel short of breath because your pressure's gonna drop. Ready?"  Then Johnny looked 
up significantly to the others. 'He might code.' he mouthed silently to them.

Stoker nodded and allowed Chet to lay him flat onto the concrete.
He didn't see Kelly drag an ambu bag a little closer to his knees.

"Ok, here goes.." Gage said, starting the rapid injection. "This has an ultrashort half-life.
Whatever it's gonna do or not do, will be over fast, Mike. Hold still while I deliver this."
Johnny told him quietly. "Watch the sky or something."

Stoker regarded the regal date palm swaying above him in the middle of the ring of 
faces surrounding his own for long seconds. Then he slowly closed his eyes.

Mike felt the world drift away as an odd, flushing sensation began to sweep through his 
still twitching muscles. He tried to scream at the phantom pain but then he blacked out 
instantly.

--------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Photo:  Cap on the biophone near a grassy hill.

Photo:  Marco and Chet crouching in worry.

Photo:  Brackett listening at his base station.

Photo:  Johnny gripping Stoker's face in a close up.

Photo:   Gage preparing an I.V. med.

Photo:   An EKG showing classic Wolff Parkinson White syndrome. 

Photo:   A peaceful L.A. riverbed view and palmtrees.

***************************************************
From: Patti or Jeff or Cassidy <theaterhost@voyagerliveaction.com> 
Date: Wed May 2, 2007 10:11 pm 
Subject: The Ways of the Heart... 

Stoker coughed, becoming conscious on the examination table.
"I'm still watching the sky, Johnny.."

"It's not there anymore, Mike, that's the treatment room ceiling."
Johnny replied, testing the engineer's orientation seriously.

Dr. Brackett moved into his field of view and smiled. "Now that's
a little better, lucid vocalization. How are you feeling, Mr. Stoker?"

Mike focused inward, listening to himself and his heartbeat. 
"The tightness has gone away and I don't feel like I'm suffocating
any more." he said, suddenly aware that he was wearing a nasal
cannula.

"That's the Verapamil finally doing its job." Gage said, setting a foot
onto the runner of Mike's gurney at his feet.

"What happened to me?"

Chet, who was standing nearby, answered eagerly. "Asystole, Stoker.
You were down for ...what?  Six seconds with no pulse at all? Man,
it really sucked. I nearly sh*t myself. But Johnny said that it was just a 
side affect of the Adenosine. And after that first dose you remember, 
he did it again with a double a few minutes later, because your heart began
racing like it was doing before to beat the band, and it was beginning to 
seriously effect your ability to breathe."

Gage lifted his head, looking tired. "After the third bolus, you still didn't 
return to sinus rhythm. So, Dr. Brackett finally let me call in a big guns 
calcium channel blocker to set you to rights once and for all. I'm glad 
it worked, because that means, you were never ever in any danger of
having a heart attack."

"What was wrong with me?"

Dr. Brackett lifted his chin from where he was studying Mike's EKG monitor.
"Something called paroxysmal supraventricular tachycardia. Specifically,
in your case, you had a bout of AV nodal reentrant tachycardia most likely
brought on by adverse environmental stimuli. The rapid beating of the heart 
during PSVT can make your heart a less effective pump so that your 
body organs don't receive enough blood to work normally. Your lab 
results are still being ordered to rule out certain other trickier causes, 
just to be on the safe side." Kel said. "But all in all, you're doing just fine."

Joe Early, who was studying Mike's running EKG and comparing it to
the earlier one in crisis, said. "I think you're right, Kel. His P waves were 
located either within the QRS complex or shortly after it with a short RP interval.
And I definitely don't hear an S3 or crackles so serious problems that way are out.
All we have to do now is disprove symptomatic preexcitation syndrome, prescribe
a course of post care treatment, then send him home. Mike's narrow complex
AVNRT is pretty typical of the kind, extremely common, and of no danger 
to you, Mr. Stoker, whatsoever. You're healthy, strong, and with that negative cardiac
history, I'd be surprised if you weren't up and about and doing a series of 
jumping jacks and other exercises by sundown." he grinned. "Need me for 
anything else, Kel?"

"No, thanks, Joe. That second consultation was all I needed on this one."

"Ok, see you later at break."

Brackett nodded.

Joe Early exited the room.

Kel turned to Dixie, who was adjusting Mike's I.V. to a new rate to maintain his
normal sinus activity following the abrupt termination of his SVT. "Dixie, I want a 
cardiac enzyme evaluation, a full electrolyte analysis and a complete blood cell 
count, also routine thyroid studies. Let's fit him for a take-home Holter. Oh, and 
please schedule him for an echocardiogram and a stress test."

"Why those last things?" asked Mike, folding a hand under his head on his
pillow. 

Dr. Brackett pursed his lips.
"PSVT may start suddenly and last for seconds or days. Patients may or 
may not be symptomatic after a first attack. It all depends on their hemodynamic 
reserve, their heart rate, the duration of the PSVT, and the possibility of co-existing 
diseases. Incessant SVT, such as what you experienced today, can reoccur and 
eventually cause tachycardia-induced cardiomyopathy if it goes unconverted for 
too long and too often without prompt treatment.
"The ECHO and a radiograph will or won't rule out a certain congenital heart defect
known as an Ebstein anomaly of the tricuspid valve, the one physically invisible cause
of this kind of PSVT. That stress test will give us another long ECG reading of how your
heart's currently functioning. There's another structural abnormality know as Wolff Parkinson 
White syndrome, in which extra electrical tissue has grown inside of a heart's AV node 
setting up abnormal electrical circuits that may cause SVT. A person with WPW syndrome 
may be at risk for cardiac arrest if they develop atrial flutter in the presence of that new 
rapidly conducting accessory pathway. Extremely rapid ventricular rates during AF
can cause deterioration to ventricular fibrillation. Sometimes, sudden death occuring 
with a bout of tachycardia may be the only initial presentation of WPW syndrome. I 
want to check you for that. Johnny thought he saw a Delta wave in V2 at the scene."

"What are those?"

"A Delta wave is a slurred upstroke to the QRS complex." Chet answered, being
snidely bookworm. "It means your heart's cheating on refilling before squeezing out
its blood again. Not a good thing."

Mike actually smiled for the first time since falling sick. "Thanks for that answer, 
Dr. Chet." he teased, looking up.

"Anytime." smirked Kelly.

Mike finally relaxed and he glanced at Dr. Brackett.
"Okay, go ahead and run what you have to run. I don't want to die anytime soon. I've been
doing this line of work too long to give it up now." Stoker tried to smile. "Say, doc, quite 
honestly, did I hurt my heart today?" Stoker asked.

"AVNRT is diagnosed in 50-60% of patients who present with regular narrow 
QRS tachyarrhythmias like you did. Patients with PSVT in the setting of a structurally 
normal heart have an excellent prognosis and typically move on to live long, happy 
and normal lifestyles without restrictions."

"And if my heart's found not to be normal?" Stoker said, picking at his bed sheets.

"I'd like to evaluate you on a detailed individual basis, in order to tailor make
the best therapy and cure possible for your specific tachyarrhythmia. In order
to best accomplish that, an electrophysiology study that takes a set of intracardiac 
recordings will help me map your heart's current accessory pathways and reentry 
circuits and tell me how they're functioning, right now." Kel told him. "This test involves 
placement of several pacemaker electrodes into your heart chambers to record electrical 
activity. The electrodes are placed via a catheter that is threaded through the veins to the 
heart, under local anesthesia in the cardiac catheterization lab.

Dr. Brackett took out his stethoscope and began a followup exam on Mike.
"I'd also like to do a cardiac catheterization and coronary angiography, but only if your stress 
test result is abnormal. This would be done under local anesthesia using a dye in the 
arteries to highlight any blockages and any possible new damage. 

"Also, I've already ordered an ambulatory ECG for you. This is because you arrived
here with your symptoms stopped and the ECG reading medicated normal. We'll
be monitoring your heart over a period of 1-2 days. The Holter will document any 
abnormal heart rhythms that you experience. You'll wear the monitor device while you 
go about your daily activities. You'll also keep a diary. That way, if I find any abnormalities 
on your ECG recording, I can compared it with what you were doing and feeling at the 
time. If you'd like, I can monitor you for a few weeks or months to assess the frequency 
of the recurrence of these arrhythmias and heart rates." 

Mike sat up on the bed. "Oh, doc. That sounds like going through a whole heaping 
lot just to pinpoint out a few maybes."

"True, but what you've suffered and what you're going to suffer symptom wise 
for the future, won't go away by itself. It's here to stay. We don't have to do heart 
surgery, you don't need it. We can easily prescribe medications to keep the PSVT 
at bay." Dr. Brackett turned to McCall. "Dix, would you get him on 240-480 mg 
Verapamil SR PO qd  to prevent a recurrent PSVT incident today. Follow it up 
with Digoxin, 0.375 mg PO qd. And Mike, those are both by mouth."

"Thank you." Stoker sighed. "I hate needles."

"No problem. Now getting back to the Holter monitor. I can use it to adjust or 
change medications based on just on clinical findings,.. I can repeat an ECG
at will or plan further therapy if your condition worsens in any way while working."

"That's just it, doc. I'll be working. As a messy, sooty, actively overheating firefighter.
Do you think a battery pack sensor will stand a rat's *ss chance of surviving through
all of that in a live fire?" Stoker reasoned.

Kel's face fell. "Well, no. Probably not."  

"And I really don't like the idea of popping pills daily before the first gray hairs 
set in, you know what I mean?" Stoker insisted, sitting up a little straighter.

"I do. All right, here's an alternative. I have a cath lab procedure available.
Radiofrequency catheter ablation. It's more than 90% effective in curing PSVT
to the point that it'll never recur nor require any further medication."

"What does that involve?" Mike asked, interested.

"During this procedure, special plastic tubes called catheters are inserted into 
a vein into the upper leg/groin area and are advanced to the heart using a 
fluoroscope. The catheters are used to record electrical signals from inside the 
heart. They can locate precisely the site from which the SVT originates. Radio 
waves are delivered at the tip of this catheter to the precise location of the SVT, 
creating a small coagulation of the tissue approximately 2 mm in diameter. We
burn out that area, effectively turning it off. Then we withdraw all tubes and wires
and we're done."

"How long will I have to stay here?"
 
"Catheter ablation procedures are generally performed in an outpatient setting 
or with an overnight stay for observation."

"And the risks?" Gage asked still learning as Stoker was doing. "Sounds like
a fairly new procedure."

"Oh, it is. But it's been highly successful. Complications, which occur at a rate of 
1-3%, include deep vein thrombosis, systemic embolism, infection, cardiac 
tamponade, and hemorrhage. The risk of death is approximately 0.1%. 
The lifetime risk of fatal malignancy as a result of radiation exposure is low to none."
Brackett offered.

"I'll do it." Mike decided even before the doctor got out his last sentence.

"Ok," Kel smiled. "I'll go make a few phone calls." And Brackett left them for
the black phone on the wall.

Chet frowned, holding out a hand. "Mike, wasn't that a little fast?"

"Not really." said Stoker. "It's either pills, a bionic Holter strapped to my belt
like a twenty four hours a day, seven days a week scba bottle, or feeling like
crap again later like I felt like earlier. Not much of a choice to consider, Chet,
now is there?"

"No, I guess not. Want me to tell Cap how you're doing?" Chet asked.

"Sure, go ahead. And find out about Roy for me, will ya?" Mike whispered.

"I will." Kelly promised solemnly. "I'll be right back. His replacement's not
here yet and so we're still 10-7."  And he left the room.

Stoker took a deep breath and nodded at the news of their station's status.

Gage fussed with Stoker's I.V. "They'll be transferring you to the cardiac wing 
upstairs now. If I know Dr. Brackett like I think I do, he'll have you trussed up
like a chicken and undergoing that quick fix inside of ten minutes." he said.

"That's a good thing. I don't really want to remember today for much longer."

Johnny nodded, lowering his head miserably. But then Dixie came over with
a blood drawing tray from the back cabinet and he put on a neutral expression
quickly so she wouldn't notice his or Mike's emotional weakness. 

Dixie launched into her usual bedside manner with firefighters. Drawl and artificially
sarcastic. "Policy, boys. I'll apologize in advance so here's this ailment's nurse to
patient and paramedic speech. In most people, supraventricular arrhythmias are not 
dangerous. Mild arrhythmias, such as isolated premature beats, may require no 
treatment at all. Supraventricular tachycardia may also be a side effect of cold remedies."
she leaned into both of them while she dug for an artery. "Most paramedics don't know 
that one." Then she straightened up to loosen the tourniquet that she had tied around 
Stoker's arm. "And this, is what you failed to do today, so remember it, Mr. Stoker.
If the episode of rapid heartbeat or palpitations is your first, and the symptoms last 
longer than a few seconds to a minute or two, call a rescue squad."

Gage rocked forward on his toes and stabbed an I told you so glare at Mike behind
her lecturing back. 

McCall went on fully aware of what Johnny had done, but refusing to show it.
"Or, if you have had previous episodes of supraventricular tachycardia, and the current 
episode does not go away with vagal maneuvers, the coughing, deep breathing, or 
muscle tensing, the following conditions warrant a visit to the nearest hospital emergency 
department. Do not drive yourself to the hospital."

Mike's attention was drifting while he flexed his muscles one by one to see how they
effected his EKG readout's audible rate. Dixie poked him in the chest to get it back.
"Ever.." she punctuated with a firm nail stab.

"Ow.." Stoker complained.

"Pay attention, Mr. Narc'd Up Boy. Call in paramedics if you have rapid heartbeat and feel 
dizzy or faint, if you have rapid heartbeat with chest pain or if you ever feel short of breath 
with rapid heartbeat. While you're waiting for help to arrive, you can try the following
things to try and avert the attack. Hold your breath for a few seconds.."

Johnny was mouthing snappy comebacks silently in the background.
"That's if you're not already fainted."

"Dip your face in cold water.." McCall droned.

"Try not to drown when you faint." Gage added sotto voce'.

"Or cough.."

Gage mouthed, 'Bend over first and wait for the examiner's gloved finger to
get inserted."

Stoker was in hysterics about now, but the Verapamil kept his heart rate
minimal.

Dixie caught on, but she refused to let Gage distract her from her job.
"Tense your stomach muscles as if you are bearing down to have a bowel 
movement." she finished her sampling and bent Mike's elbow up.

"But don't fudge your shorts or you'll gross out all your rescuers." Johnny 
said out loud, making Dixie grin.

She ignored him. "If these maneuvers don't work, lie down and relax. 
Take some slow, deep breaths. Often, your heart will slow by itself.
If the symptoms continue, get immediate transportation to a hospital."

Johnny fussed with Mike's pillows, fluffing them. "In other words, call me."
he said, pointing to himself.

"No, I think I'll call any other station BUT 51's." Stoker shot back.

McCall pitched her voice even louder to be heard so she wouldn't
start laughing, too. "The following lifestyle choices may help control 
your condition: Quit smoking, Reduce caffeine intake. 
Avoid illicit drug use.....Most stimulate your heart. 
Control your weight...... Obesity makes your heart work much harder. 
Work towards a diet low in fat, cholesterol, and salt..." she ticked off her
fingers.

"In a firehouse?" Gage and Stoker both exclaimed together, giggling.

Dixie recited on.. "Cut back on excessive alcohol use...."

The silence in the room that followed was staggering with its arrival.

Stoker and Gage froze in place and both were biting their lips, fighting
for control over...

"Say, fellas. Did I say something to offend you? You both look like you
just lost your best friend." Dixie said, her eyes growing big with concern.

Mike Stoker's eyes filled then, and he took Dixie's hand. "You know
Dix, in a way, we have." he said sadly. "And that's why Roy isn't here right
now with me. You see, he lost his son in the river bed this afternoon. Umm,
the car he was inside of, was full of drunk teenagers who were drag racing."

"Oh, no.." Dixie said, her mouth flopping open. "Not Chris DeSoto."

Gage swallowed quietly. "Yeah, he...he died because he got ejected, 
but uh, it was quick. From.... what we both saw.."

"Now I understand why you're here, Mike. Your heart must be breaking."
McCall whispered as she hugged them both.

---------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
 
Photo:  Stoker lying in a treatment room gurney with Brackett and Gage.

Photo:  Joe Early and Kel Brackett smiling in a treatment room.

Photo: Gage discussing with Brackett, treatment plans.

Photo:  Dixie standing by a hospital door. Far shot.

Photo:  Chet looking serious with Kel Brackett at Rampart.

Photo:   A close up of blood getting drawn.

Photo:   Gage looking sad with Dixie.
 
**************************************************
From:   Pat or Cassidy or Jeff <voyagerliveaction@yahoo.com>  
Date:    Thu May 3, 2007 8:36 am  
Subject: The Life You Save...

Much later, Dixie visited Mike Stoker's room on the fifth floor.
She found him sleeping, still with tears on his face and a notepad
still resting on his lap. He had written something there, a single
sentence.  

'Students take a sip of grim reality.' 

She frowned, wondering why he had written it, when he awoke 
at her light, vitals taking touch.

"What time is it?" Mike asked.

"It's late. You should have been sleeping hours ago. I thought
Dr. Brackett told you to catch up on some rest. The ablation was
a complete success. You don't want to undo all that nice cautery
work of theirs now do you?"

Stoker just sighed, and picked up the notepad he had dropped.
He slowly smoothed out its lined yellow pages.

McCall, sensing that he had something deeply personal to unload, 
took a chair by his side and she just waited, until he was ready to speak.

Stoker's eyes were red and the lines of fatigue around them 
made him seem far older than his thirty years. "It's not fair, Dixie." 
he finally said quietly. "I was there and yet, I still couldn't do anything 
to help them despite having everybody at the station with me, and all our 
fancy gear. Nobody's heard from Roy since it happened and I'm really, 
really afraid to even call his home. What do I do now? I feel so useless, 
so empty. Something needs to be done about things that happen like this 
so that they never ever happen to anyone else ever again."  he cried.

"Shhh.." Dixie soothed, giving him a tissue from his bedside box.
"It's okay. You're hurting. For yourself, for Roy... for Chris..."

Mike Stoker nodded, looking down as he squeezed tears out of
his eyes. "I know that. I... I just want it to stop. And, I want to make
a difference somehow for those students at the high school who're
probably still doing, all those stupid crazy things." 

"You're only one person, Mike. What can you do by yourself?"
McCall asked gently.

Turning to the window, Mike Stoker saw the moon rising over the hill
and he heard the sounds of traffic on the freeway coming through his
open window. "I think I've almost figured that out. Would you help me
iron out the details?"

Dixie smiled and moved her chair closer. "Sure. Show me what you have."

-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Four weeks later, Dr. Morton was watching a news broadcast on
a network channel while eating an orange. He was surprised when
he recognized a few names flashing across the screen. "Say, Dix.
Have you seen this?" he asked.

Dixie, recognizing the piece, nodded her head. "I sure have. Enjoy."
she smirked. Then she left the room, leaving him to devour his
bright tangy fruit, and the news story.

##Every 15 Minutes someone in the United states dies in an alcohol 
related car crash.  

##This statistic is the basis of the "Every 15 Minutes" program. The 
program offers a real life experience without the real life risks. This emotionally 
charged program, entitled Every 15 Minutes, was an event designed to dramatically 
instill teenagers with the potentially dangerous consequences of drinking alcohol. 
This powerful program challenged students to think about drinking, personal safety, 
and the responsibility of making mature decisions when lives are involved.The 
program was proactive; it used very dramatic visual lessons in regard to death.  
It was staged last week at a time when it was known that teens were more apt to 
participate in the consumption of alcohol.  Parent/child involvement was a large 
portion of this program, and all of it was designed by a local regular 
Firefighter  Mike Stoker, an Engineer, at Station 51 in Carson.

##More than 950 students took their seats in bleachers as a grim reaper roamed 
slowly and silently around what would soon be revealed as the simulation of a 
grisly car accident....## 

The screen turned black and Mike Morton was captured completely by the video 
shown.

A voice of a dispatcher blared over a loudspeaker, simulating radio response calls to 
an emergency as a tarp was removed, where he recognized as being at the local riverside 
high school, revealing the aftermath of a head-on collision. At first, Morton thought the 
footage was real, but then he saw the moulage look of cast blood and was reassured. 

Empty beer bottles were strewn on the ground near the crumpled vehicles. The 
"dead" and "injured" lay in various positions in and around the wreckage. Only one 
person--the driver of one of the vehicles--was on his feet and stumbling around in a 
daze. He was eventually "arrested" for driving under the influence and taken to jail. 

##This scene was only part of a two-day event. Close to forty volunteers from 
several local police and fire agencies volunteered their time and equipment to
bring this innovative firefighter's new awareness program to life.

##Throughout the first day, the "Grim Reaper" removed a student from a classroom 
every 15 minutes. These students represented those who were dying as a result of 
an alcohol/drug related collision in the United States. Volunteers transformed these 
pre-selected students into the "walking dead" by painting their faces white and having 
them wear black robes. 

##A uniformed officer then entered the classroom and read the student's obituary. 
The obituary was very realistic and included such details as the cause of death, 
past accomplishments, future plans and surviving family members.

##Meanwhile, a prearranged mock death notification was made by uniformed officers 
to each student's parent at their home or place of business. Each notification varied 
as to the cause of death and surrounding circumstances. Most parents were told they 
would need to identify the body at the morgue and were given information on organ 
donation. Even though all the parents were aware of the details of the program 
and previsously agreed to the prearranged death notification and knew that it was 
pretend, the resulting emotions witnessed were powerfully sad, and visceral
as they were caught unprepared for the harsh realism of the notifications delivered.

##The "living dead" students, once made up, were returned to their classes to 
resume their day, with one exception,they couldn't speak or take part in any 
activities for the remainder of the day.  

##Officer Vince Howard of the Los Angeles Highway Patrol... 
"The event was a real eye opener, because when a person who's killed actually 
is your own friend, it really hits home. It's was a great program for the teens 
because their lives are just beginning and so many doors are opening up for them."

##Howard was the cruiser cop first to arrive at the DUI scene, followed by more police 
officers, fire engines and ambulances. A sobriety test was given to the driver of one 
of the vehicles--the occupants of the other vehicle were pronounced dead at the scene
after extensive resuscitation efforts by the paramedics of Station 51.
The roof was cut off one of the cars to free an injured person trapped inside. The 
injured were strapped to gurneys and taken away in ambulances to Rampart 
Emergency-- and the dead were taken by a coroner to the county morgue. The one 
person who escaped the crash with only minor injuries was booked into the county
jail for drunk driving.  

##Because of the fatalities, a medical examiner soon arrived, as did the staff from 
a local mortuary. A male passenger ejected through the windshield was placed into a 
body bag and was transported to the morgue by the coroner.  

##The injured passengers were transported to the hospital by ambulance
and the worst of them by a paramedic flight helicopter. Hospital personnel at 
Rampart General worked on these victims until they were pronounced brain 
dead in front of their parents and family relatives to demonstrate what goes
on in a trauma room following a drunk driving accident. The parents 
were then notified of their deaths officially and were asked about organ donation. 

##The "drunk" driver was given field sobriety tests by officers, handcuffed and 
transported to the police department for a simulated booking. 

##The teenager was found guilty of drunk driving and vehicular homicide at his 
sentencing hearing. His attorney from the public defender's office detailed his 
client's perfect student record and asked for a sentence of probation. In making 
her case against the defendant, a lawyer from the city attorney's office listed the 
crimes committed, the fatalities and injuries that resulted, and how the lives of 
families had been wrecked. She emphatically stated that probation wasn't enough, 
and that while the maximum 10-year sentence may serve justice, it would not heal 
the pain of survivors or bring back those who were killed.

##The firefighter father of a dead student then described how he had been deprived 
of his son, and made an emotional plea for the maximum sentence. He detailed how he
and his wife wouldn't see his boy graduate from school or be able to share any more 
in his birthdays or holidays. He concluded by saying that his life had been devastated, 
and that it would never be the same.

##When the defendant was allowed to speak, he expressed his remorse and willingness 
to accept responsibility for his actions. He further stated his readiness to accept the 
judgment of the court. He received the maximum sentence for his crimes.

##The mock accident staged by the Los Angeles County Fire Department and the 
California Highway patrol was watched by all juniors and seniors from Riverside 
High School. 

##The "dead" students, including the ones pulled from their classrooms, all spent 
the night at the Los Altos Jesuit Retreat. 
 
##The students' absence from their homes that night was to further simulate that 
he/she was "gone" for the parents. Upon arrival at the retreat the students were 
treated to dinner and chaperoned activities, such as a game of baseball between 
students and chaperones, basketball or even swimming. Evening activities included 
interacting with police, State of California Alcoholic Beverage Control agents, 
emergency medical personnel, firefighters and members of the community. Guest 
speakers at that time included the Los Angeles County coroner, describing DUI 
accident cases, how he responded to the scene, contacting parents, and how that
made him feel. Another speaker was a man who drove while intoxicated and was 
involved in an accident in which three of his best friends was killed. 

##After listening to the speakers, students wrote letters to their parents. 
Some students were able to say things to their parents they were 
never able to say before. Students were asked if they would feel comfortable 
reading their letters to the student body and parents at the following day's funeral
services for the dead. Each letter began 'Dear Mom and Dad, Every 15 Minutes 
someone in the United States dies in an alcohol-related traffic collision…
and today I died…I never got a chance to tell you……..'

##Parents had the task of writing their own child's obituary.  
The real possibility of a child dying in this type of scenario created a tremendous 
impact on the teens, parents, friends, and the community. The range of emotions 
this invoked in participants and observers was vast.  Each person reacted 
in his or her own unique way.  The distinction in this program was that the 
community joined together as a whole to help teens find alternatives in their battle 
with casual involvement with alcohol.
    
##The assembly ended with the showing of a music video. The video was compiled 
from footage of participating students two to three weeks prior to the program as 
well as footage of the mock DUI accident. The video was followed by selected 
students reading their letters to Mom and Dad along with presentations by police, 
parents, medical personnel and school officials on the horrible consequences of 
poor decision making when alcohol was involved and how it impacted them personally. 
The intent of this part of the program was to show the students that their decisions 
didn't only affect themselves. F/F Stoker called forward actual survivors and 
victims of an alcohol tragedy to drive home the point. 

##Students were then asked to rejoin their parents. 

##Firefighter Engineer Mike Stoker comments.... 
"Letters were exchanged along with, hopefully, renewed commitments of love and 
respect. From what I saw on that final night, made all my hard work, planning and 
fundraising, well worth it."

 "It was extremely emotional," said Captain Stanley, who received much feedback 
from students at the high school, thanking his firefighter Mike Stoker for coming
to stage the event. "It affected them in many ways, depending on past 
experiences." 

##Rebecca Ellis, a senior who lives in Sunnyvale, said she can't drive yet,  
thought the program helped students to comprehend how scary and common 
alcohol-related accidents really were. 

"For something to happen like this every fifteen minutes is mind boggling." Nurse
Dixie McCall of Rampart Hospital said. 

"I'm glad that we've put in the effort, because some people really need it." 
said Chet Kelly, another firefighter working at Station 51. 

------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

It was the second day of the Every 15 Minutes program event at
Riverside High.

Paramedic Firefighter Roy DeSoto slowly stepped up to the microphone..
"I hold in my hand, the high school ring, that Chris was wearing the day he ...died.. 
because of alcohol.  Working in the fire department, I see a lot of accidents, and I 
always fear the worst, but pray for the best at each and every one of them. My 
dispatchers didn't have any information, but on that day, I know they said to hurry.  
I had no idea my life had been forever changed in a split second without my knowing.

"Yesterday, hopefully, I was able to show you just how many people's lives one 
person's choice can affect. Like what you saw enacted today on the athletic field. 
All of the emergency personnel, the parents, the friends that knew people involved 
in the accident--my--- my son.. Those are all the people who are really going to 
be most affected by your absolutely last, can of cold beer. So as you enjoy it,
think about the others around you first before you ever decide to get behind that 
wheel.

"Chris. I will nev-- I will never get to see you smile, or hear your voice. I can only say, 
that I love you still. From the bottom of my broken heart."


From the darkness, came a young man, with a scar still on his forehead.
He made himself look at Roy, offering a slow nod of sad respect, ..and remorse..

Then he gripped the microphone before the assembled crowd of high school
students and he began to talk.
"You know, I didn't even feel stupid when I said to them. Yeah, I'm all right. 
I can drive. Then later, after it happened, I remembered thinking. My friends? 
Yeah, so? So I won't get to see them grow up.  That's it. They're gone, I'll 
never see them again, you know? You might think this strange but I couldn't 
even see what was going on. I was held back, in a corner, near a body bag. 
And then I was sitting in the back seat, of a police car, and I went off to jail, 
because I wasn't sober. I was doing things I wasn't supposed to be doing. 
I know I made a horrible mistake. I hope you don't either."


Johnny Gage hugged his partner Roy DeSoto hard and long, and tears
flowed anew as he took his place as the final speaker of the day.
"Students, take this lesson and use it, for the life you save, may be your own, or 
somebody you love. Drinking and driving is not just the onus of the person who made 
that bad decision. This lesson is not just for the two who were in that car and survived, 
or for the nine hundred of you, listening to us speak, or your families and friends. 

"Despite what you may think, many people responsible for drunk-driving mishaps 
are not long-term alcohol abusers. They are social or irregular drinkers. In many 
cases, they are usually responsible near-adults like yourselves, celebrating a 
birthday, a class promotion, or maybe even for some lucky few of you, an 
engagement  to be married. 

#But they also, found themselves in the wrong place at the wrong time 
when it came to their drinking and driving.

"So please, think before you act.

"Talk,.. to the "dead" assembled here in this auditorium. For they, are your lesson."


When the talk was over Chet Kelly spilled out of the audience on his
way to shake Mike Stoker's hand. "Man, Stoker. I didn't know you
had it in you. That program was...was.. well it was pretty cool, and deep.
Yeah, I enacted in it, but doing so made me think of practically everything in
a whole new light."

Mike Stoker grinned shyly but he didn't say anything when he felt Roy 
DeSoto come near his side.

Roy smiled, and took Stoker's hand in gratitude, shaking it, with tears
filling his eyes. "You know, Chet. The heart's a peculiar pump in a lot
of ways. You never know how differently it's gonna react in people. 
As a paramedic, how it does so, never ceases to amaze me."

"Oh, yeah? I'm just making sure that pump peculiarity isn't ever gonna be
the Los Angeles River Waterway System ever again. And nice job, Mike.
Are we doing this whole program thing again next year? Cause if you are,
Count me in."  Kelly said, smacking Stoker on the shoulder.

Inside, some deep pain inside of the fire station engineer, finally faded
away....for good. "I got something to show all of you." he said to them.

"Oh, yeah?" asked Cap. "What?"

"To find that out, you're going to have to come with me to
the station." said Mike Stoker, smiling.

---------------------------------------------------------------------------------

"Well, turn it on already, Chet. I don't want to miss any of it." Gage hissed.

"All right. All right. You don't have to bite my head off. I think I got the right 
channel. All we have to do now is wait for the TV to warm up."
Kelly told him. "I wonder what they shot?"

"Would you just shush?!"

"Sorry." 

Soon, together, the whole gang watched, smiled, and cried at the fruits
of Mike Stoker's labors while the high school students' video gift to them, 
aired.

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=EN-Vm4KT9WA

FIN

Episode 44, Emergency Theater Live, Season Six
Pump Peculiarites

-----------------------------------------------------------------------

Video:  Every 15 Minutes..  
                 Canyon High School  January 12th, 2005
        Oxnard Independent Film Festival Winner:
          - Best Documentary
          - Audience Choice in the Teen/Youth Category

**************************************************
 
            
                            End Credits --  Episode Forty Four (Sixth Season)
                                      
                                           §§    Pump Peculiarities   §§


                        :)     This episode is dedicated to the designers of the        :)
                                Every 15 Minutes alcohol awareness program for
                               young adults which was developed in Canada and
                               adopted here. Countless thousands are moved and
                               effected by the raw emotions created during these 
                        :)     dose of reality demos and aftermath scenarios.            :)   
        

 
The Story Unfolds...

Season Six, Episode Forty Five
 
 §§   Richter Six    §§
 
Debut Launch: May 1st, 2007. 
 

************************************************************
From: "patti keiper" <pattik1@hotmail.com> 
Date: Sat May 5, 2007 4:23 pm 
Subject: Shake, Rattle and....  


Richter Six,  Mark VII Limited and Universal Studios Production # 35716
Original Teleplay Character Dialogue was written by Michael Donovan, 
August 30th, 1972.

-----------------------------------------------------------------------------------

The day was warm at Los Angeles County Headquarters.
Rescheduling had been the same as always from the chief
with all the senior paramedic firefighters getting rotated through
the training and breaking in of the new students who were
now pouring into the mobile intensive care unit program
in droves from elsewhere in the fire department.

Johnny Gage didn't know what to think of the teaching requirement
newly installed by Dr. Brackett. But it helped that all the classroom
time going over the books and drilling skills contributed to his 
continuing education credits now deemed necessary to maintain his 
own certifications. 

He was tired, but smiling a bit as the experience brought back 
memories of Roy giving him the hard sell to join the paramedics
when he had been a student.

The promise of a full coffee pot went far to redeem the whole
process in his mind's eye. Right along with the free donuts and
the chance to lecture all the grunts while wearing doctor white.

Roy figured his partner was probably still grinning like the Cheshire cat
when his watch went off. It was time to begin day two of the paramedic
orientation course.

He walked into the classroom set aside for them in a fire training
trailer on the fire academy cadet grounds, carrying the orange advanced 
life support books their class would need. He perked his ears as
he opened the door and went inside.

Johnny Gage was looking almost comical but in a way, slick in the long
white lab coat as he spoke to the class clustered around him. 
"...and after the academic part, you'll spend a few weeks working in the
hospital."

A student raised his eyebrows, chewing absently on a pencil. "Why the 
hospital? We're gonna be doing everything in the field,...why not train there?"

Roy dropped his stack of books on the table in front of him and began
handing them out one by one after motioning to their students to come
up and take one. "That'll come too, ....later." He smiled, leaning over
the desk. "You learn in the hospital first, .. the RIGHT way.  Then when you
have a handle on that, you learn how to adjust to every goofball situation
imaginable in the field."

One nervous young firefighter, fidgetted with his new manual, goggling at
the thickness of the soft bound text of pages. "Was it tough? I mean, you
know, making it?"

Gage made sure he didn't smile too much. "Having second thoughts?"

The thin man nodded. "It's been on my mind." he admitted.

"And it always will be." said Roy, sitting down near them. "The only advice
we can give, is shoot your best shot." Then he smirked a bit. "I think Johnny
here, was the first casualty." he teased.

Gage made a mock insulted face and chuckled.

"How's that?" asked the second student.

DeSoto pursed his lips and picked up an old newspaper from the
stack of them on the demo table outlining the success and media coverage
Dr. Brackett's paramedic program had attained over the years. He handed
the newspaper to him, pointing at the bold printed headline. "Well, if you recall,
the quake hit at six in the morning. We'd had about five calls in the night before
and had only been in bed about an hour....
 

"Tuesday, February ninth. I'll never forget that day. Our station
was a pretty good distance from the center of the quake, but believe
me.. we felt it!" Roy recalled.

------------------------------------------------------------

A rumbler shook the whole fire station, jolting the gang out of their beds.
Johnny was thrown from his bed, his arms still wrapped about the pillow
and his head struck the concrete block partition next to his bunk.

Cap, Stoker and the others shot out of theirs and began scrambling
into their turnout pants and boots, even as they winced and flinched
and ducked as drinking glasses, pencils and even telephones slid
off table tops to shatter and rattle on the tiled floor.

Roy was dressed almost instantly. He hastily threw the sheets tangled
around his boots away from him as he hung one arm on the brick
divider next to Stoker's bunk to steady himself. He heard a groan
from Gage, who hadn't yet gotten to his feet. "You okay?" he asked.

Johnny, shaking his head dizzily even while he probed his hair for blood,
muttered. "I'm not sure...what the devil?"

Cap interrupted them. "Stoker, check the garage door. Make sure we're
able to get the equipment out of here."

Mike nodded and dashed out of the room as the quake finally died 
slowly under their feet.

Hank continued to snap out orders. "The rest of you. Get to it. We'll start
a patrol of the area for gas leaks and fire." he decided, going by the book.

Chet Kelly went to his side as he pulled on one last suspender strap.
"How bad do you think it is, Cap?"

Stanley sighed, eyeing up the radio on the table by the window to make
sure that it still had power. "That's the problem, we don't know." he
said seriously while he jogged out to the apparatus bay to survey for
damage.

Gage convinced himself that he was all right from his jolt to the head.
He smiled to reassure his partner. "Ever been in an earthquake before?"

DeSoto shook his head in the negative. "You?" he asked.

Johnny frowned and shuddered, burning off the last of his adrenalin jitters
as he matched Roy's reply. "That scared the h*ll out of me."

Roy helped Gage steady himself on his feet and together they ran to join the
others.  Relieved, DeSoto saw that the main door was just fine, rattling up in its
tracks smoothly as ever.  By the alcove, Hank hung up the mic on its spigot.
"Dispatch says they're getting reports from all over the county. They're
guessing we're at the edge of the quake."

Johnny cracked his knuckles in anxious anticipation. "That means there's gonna
be heavy damage."

Stanley nodded, agreeing."We'll start checking out our area. If they need us, 
they'll call."  Everyone began running for the trucks.

Hank stopped his paramedics by gripping their elbows. He met their eyes
significantly. "Gage, DeSoto. Better load up what extra medical supplies you can."
he suggested.

The abnormal advice served only to stir their fears of the possible scope of
the disaster they had yet to see in their city. Without comment, they moved out.

--------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Photo:   L.A.County Headquarters day far shot aerial.

Photo:    L.A.County Headquarters front entrance,

Photo:  Hand written paramedic class sign. 

Photo: Roy teaching over a desk.

Photo:  Stack of paramedic manuals. 

Photo:  A firefighter paramedic student asking a question.

Photo:  Roy sleeping.

Photo: Cap snoring in his bunk.

Photo:  A building collapsing in an earthquake. 

Photo:  John wincing from a hit head, in bed. 

Photo:  Cap, Roy and Johnny talking in the vehicle bay.

Photo:  A seismograph tracing. 

Photo:  Station 51's address numbers on its brick front. 

Photo: The squad and engine roaring down the highway. 
 
**************************************************
From: "patti keiper" <pattik1@hotmail.com> 
Date: Sun May 13, 2007 4:31 pm 
Subject: Act 2, Richter Six.. 

Richter Six,  Mark VII Limited and Universal Studios Production # 35716
Original Teleplay Character Dialogue was written by Michael Donovan,
August 30th, 1972.

-------------------------------------------------------------------------------- 
 
 Roy DeSoto drove slowly, picking no regular direction to
travel in as they listened to the radio chatter over their
frequency. The engine had split off from behind them long ago
to cover different territory and to him, not having the Ward's
reassuring bulk in his rear view mirror, somehow discomforted
him. 

Johnny was trying to at least look relaxed, resting his elbow on
the open window frame of the rescue squad. "Things look 
quiet enough. Guess all it did was rattle the area pretty good."
he commented.

DeSoto, worried but holding his roiling emotions at bay about
things a little closer to home, finally reached over and grabbed up
the mic. " Squad 51, is there any info on the Chatsberry area?" he
asked L.A. 

L.A. responded. ##Squad 51, negative. Please restrict radio traffic
to necessary messages...## replied Sam Lanier, before he resumed
checks and relaying search reports from other units patrolling service
areas like Station 51 had begun to do.

DeSoto, biting his lip, sighed with anxiety as he mentally chided himself
for tying up the emergency channel. 

Gage, leaning a couple of fingers on his chin, studied his partner in
calm empathy. "Roy, anything can knock out a phone line.." he said.

Startling, on the steering wheel, Roy's knuckles whitened as his attention 
was drawn back to the radio as aftertones began to sound. ##Engine 197,
Engine 226. Patrol 67 reports extensive damage in Soledad area. Numerous
fires, major structural damage. Respond to---##  Tuning out the radio, Roy
tried to relax back into the driver's seat as he licked his lips dryly when the
airing failed to impart the one bit of information that he badly wanted right 
then. 

Gage didn't take his eyes away from Roy's tense expression. It was total
uncharacteristic fretting he read coming from his partner. So he said it like
it was. "If anything's happened, she'll know what to do, Roy."

"Yeah.." DeSoto replied, not reassured nor convinced, still thinking about his
family. 

Johnny studied DeSoto, trying to convey firm confidence, when the tones
from H.Q. sounded again. ##Engine 51, Squad 51...Engine 127, Truck 127,
Engines 68, 225, 65 and 70. Patrols 65 and 68. Respond to Alameda Hospital.
Soledad reports wide spread destruction.##

Roy's mouth dropped open as Johnny snatched up the mic a little too fast.

"Squad 51." acknowledged Gage quickly as Roy turned on their lights and
sirens, doing a U-turn in the boulevard. Johnny hung up their radio. "That's about
thirty miles from here." he estimated. 

Roy gaped as he forced himself to talk a couple of seconds later, working
through a strong reaction that Gage could see visibly. "...and about five 
minutes from my house."

Johnny's eyes widened in dismay when the fact he didn't know, sank in.
Willing calm onto Roy, he set his hand firmly onto his shoulder in unspoken
support as DeSoto jumped them into authorized emergency speed.

----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

It was three minutes later and Roy and Johnny began to see signs that
they were at the edge of the quake. Sewer caps were thrust through
fractured sidewalks like bizarre toothpicks angling from the ground. There
was already a stench of decay in the air. Gage pointed to the first indications
and Roy nodded as they swept by the sight.

Then there was no more time to notice details. 

Squad 51 pulled into the older suburban hospital's parking lot and there,
both paramedics were stunned.

"Dear G*d!" Johnny exclaimed aloud as they rushed to what they thought 
was a rudimentary fire department staging area. All they could see was the 
twisted structure of the hospital and ground eruption flipped cars. At its 
base, the lot was alive with fire equipment, police cars, white clad doctors 
and nurses and gurney wheeling patients moving in all directions. 
Pandemonium barely described the events now underway before them. 

Swallowing, Roy slowed into cautious gear and he went where they were 
directed into the chaotic open maw of the forming disaster operation. 
There was a flurry of activity in and around the command post trailers. Roy 
and Johnny could see a Battalion Chief briefing a handful of fire captains, 
including Captain Stanley. They were all clutching newly plastic wrapped 
waterproofed HTs. Hank nodded minutely when Roy and Johnny parked 
and started unloading all their stokes and medical gear, making eye contact 
only long enough to let them know he was aware they had arrived.

Putting on their turnouts and scba, Roy and Johnny swiftly got ready. The first thing
DeSoto did was check their reception via biophone. "Rescue 51 to Rampart Base
for radio check." he gasped, speaking loudly. There was no immediately reply and 
he and Johnny shared a single significant glance in concern when static poured out 
of the receiver. Roy tried again. "Rescue 51 to Rampart Base." he hailed turning up
the gain and rechecking the terminal's antennae port. 

-----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Nurse Dixie McCall looked up and saw the red light go on inside the base station
at Rampart. She hurried into the room, barely avoiding a collision with a gurney in-pouring
into her emergency department in the corridor. The silence from the din of the ongoing
disaster, took her breath away. She paused only long enough to learn who it was who
was hailing.

##Rescue 51 requesting radio check with Rampart Base.## DeSoto's voice repeated.

Dixe lifted her head and pressed the talk button, frowning in concentration. "Rescue 51,
This is Rampart, go ahead." she replied.

##Rampart, we've been assigned to Alameda Hospital. Verifying radio communication
from this location.## Roy answered. In the background, Dixie could hear fire 
department chatter and the shouts of disoriented patients being evacuated from 
the shattered building in droves behind his voice.

"10-4, I read you loud and clear. Doctor Brackett has sent Joe Early with a triage team 
to your location. How bad is it?" she asked, finally pausing and resetting the recording 
tape when she realized they weren't yet with a patient. 

Roy's voice sounded stressed for a reason McCall couldn't identify. ##Extensive 
damage. There appears to be many injuries. Evacuation is underway.## DeSoto told 
her.

"10-4." Dixie said, putting the channel on standby.

---------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

DeSoto closed up the biophone box and behind him, Captain Stanley and
the other captains broke up from the briefing with the Chief. He crossed over
to where both his station's trucks were angled and faced his men. Chet, Marco,
and Stoker already had their gloves and air bottles on like Cap did. 

Stanley sighed, his voice charged with all business. "Okay, we've got a search 
and rescue detail..north half of the West Wing. We'll start with the first floor.
Stoker and Lopez, you take the North end. Gage and DeSoto, up the middle.
Kelly and I will work our way in from the South end. Check every room and mark
it. If you need assistance, give us a holler."

Gage eyed the building still spewing dust in front of them. "It looks like the
first and ground floors got it the worst." he said.

Hank nodded. "And they're the only way out for the people above them."
Stanley said, sweeping a hand over the jumble of broken cars that were
aggressively getting sprayed down by distantly placed  water curtains. The
mangled rows of displaced cars were acting as a barricade, preventing the full
reach of the aerial ladders that were trying to extend out to uneffected windows.

One managed to connect at last and firefighters rushed up the handholds
from the engine's receiving platform.

Stanley gestured and the gang snapped into action. They gathered up flashlights
and the most critical of the medical and extrication gear. The gang started 
separating when DeSoto hesitated and turned to Hank. The expression in his
eyes spoke volumes.. "Cap..."

Hank immediately understood having anticipated the question. "I'm sorry, Roy.
There's been no reports on your neighborhood."

Roy nodded under his helmet tightly, regarding Stanley with unspoken thanks.
He looked away then and headed off after his partner.

Hank watched him go until another call for him came over his portable radio.

---------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Under the shadow of a lifted aerial ladder, Gage and DeSoto worked their way
around fresh rubble, trying past the patient patio where they knew large glass 
doors must have been. Johnny located the entrance to the hospital proper
and staff cafeteria. "This looks good as any.." he said.

Roy agreed with a nod and together they forced the door open with tools
and entered.

A minute later, they were passing evacuating patients and other search and
rescue teams rushing to other areas of Alameda's twisted bulk. As they passed
a badly crushed and jammed emergency exit stairwell, Johnny hesitated at
a sound, a questioning almost panicked vocalization from behind the warped
door. "Wait a minute.." Gage said to Roy. Johnny moved closer to the door,
carefully listening in his helmet. A knocking sound rewarded him as he looked
up, probing for hinge weaknesses with a halligan. "Somebody in there?" he
shouted.

"....yes... please help me. " said a female voice, it was strained with pain.

Reacting, Gage and DeSoto snatched a prybar from their gear and they began
forcing their way through the door to get to her.  Loudly, Roy gave an order.
"Move away!" he said.

The two firefighters continued to exert their combined strength against the
door until finally, it began to creak open, the spidered tiny glass 
window it contained splintered and broke apart as a gap opened.

A small nurse in a dirty ripped uniform jammed her torso out of the
darkened staircase and she coughed. Gage and DeSoto pulled her out
into the corridor and helped her to her feet. 

Johnny held her arms, searching for blood. "Are you all right, Miss?"

The young nurse wiped off dust and grit from her mouth as she reassured
herself with her own running hands that she was truly uninjured. "Yes. I've 
been trying to find my way out of the ground floor for an hour. They need help.
In surgery." she exclaimed.

Roy took off his helmet and offered her a sit down onto one of their gear boxes.
"What kind of help?" he said, crouching by her side, eyeing her up carefully.

The shaken nurse shook her head. "I...I just don't know. No one can get in.
They can't get out. The walls and doors are crushed. It's horrible!" she trembled.

DeSoto stood, satisfied the woman wasn't in any danger from shock. He
refastened his helmet. "We'll take a look." he told her as she stood once more
with growing strength in the cleaner air. 

Johnny and Roy gathered up their gear, heading for the stairwell again.

She stopped them. "Try this way first." she said, pointing to a turn down
the busy hallway. "Maybe we can get in through the ampitheater." she
suggested.

The two paramedics nodded for her to lead the way.

The darkness of the shattered but still open aisled ampitheater was almost 
absolute and its tiled walls eerily reflected the light beaming off their flashlights
as the trio made their way through the viewing door on the lower level.

They made their way over to the viewing glass balcony in the observation
theater and looked down.

All three of them gasped.

Fractured beams of light from the still powered patient floor shining through
a broken ceiling beam above them was the only illumination in the pitch
black surgery room. On a gurney, lay a young girl receiving oxygen and 
anesthetic from a blue gowned nurse. On the floor at their feet the paramedics 
could see another nurse looking up from an injured surgeon lying awkwardly 
on his back. 

Roy and Johnny aimed their flashlight beams downward and the two staffers
looked up suddenly with urgency. The bright red gap of an opened body
cavity glinted at the child's abdomen which was covered quickly with a sterile
drape when a stream of dust began cascading down from the ceiling. DeSoto 
could see the kneeling nurse had already begun an I.V. on the unconscious 
oral airway aided doctor lying in front of her.  They could see blood on his
forehead.

DeSoto turned to the nurse who came with them. "They're setting up a 
field hospital in front. Get a doctor... a surgeon if you can. We'll try to get down
there." he told her. 

The nurse nodded, accepting Roy's flashlight gratefully and she hurried back
the way they had come to summon the help he requested.

Johnny began testing around the viewing glass edges as he shined his torch
onto the broken concrete buried door to one side of the surgery. "No telling how
long it'll take to dig through that mess." he muttered, trying to see if the child
was still breathing on her own without the surgical nurse's assistance.

Roy peered around. "Then maybe going through the top here will be
faster." he said, pulling their HT out of his pocket. "Squad 51 to C.P. Requesting
screwdrivers, rope, lighting and two stretchers be brought to the surgical
ampitheater. Entrance is located at the west end side of the hospital." he
reported.

Worried, Roy and Johnny looked down as the glass muted nurses below
them looked up with anxious expressions as they worked to stabilize their
patients.

##10-4, 51.# replied the incident commander posted outside.

------------------------------------------------------------

Photo:  Squad 51 pulling up. 

Photo:    Roy and Johnny in squad on mic. 
 
Photo:   Destroyed cars by hospital building.  
 
Photo:  Engines respond to hospital. Extend ladders.
 
Photo:  Dixie with long hair at the base station.

Photo:  Battalion chief orders gang. 
 
Photo:  Roy and Johnny search with scba and flashlights.
 
Photo:  A white capped nurse. 
 
Photo:  Surgery nurses working frantically.
 
Photo:  Injured doctor on the floor.  
 
Photo:  Roy and Johnny in scba talking on an HT.

**************************************************
From :  patti keiper <pattik1@hotmail.com> 
Sent :  Friday, May 18, 2007 8:34 PM 
Subject :  Deliverance.. 

Richter Six,  Mark VII Limited and Universal Studios Production # 35716
Original Teleplay Character Dialogue was written by Michael Donovan,
August 30th, 1972.

-------------------------------------------------------------------------------- 

It was ten minutes later.

Johnny Gage finished removing the last screw in the windowframe
of the observation room. Carefully, he, Chet and Marco lifted out
the glass pane and set it aside onto the floor out of the way. Other
firemen entered the surgical amphitheater with portable lighting
and there was a flurry of activity as it was plugged in and hooked
up to battery power. Gage and DeSoto began lowering themselves
into the surgical suite below on a rope with belts.

Roy's feet touched the gritty floor. Disconnecting, he removed his
gloves and moved towards the surgical table. "We've sent for a 
doctor."

The nurse on the child's head nodded. "How long has it been?"
she asked, over her bright blue surgical mask.

Roy looked at his watch. "The quake hit at six. Just a little over
an hour." He glanced down at the little girl, lying intubated and 
still on the bed. "How's she doing?"

"Critical." replied another nurse, looking up from where she was
monitoring the girl's vital signs from a stool next to them.

A thump turned Roy's head back the way he had come. Joe Early,
his face twisting with effort, was being lowered on a rope. He was wearing
fire turnout over his hastily zipped up triage jumpsuit and surgical top.

Johnny was examining the surgeon on the floor in a fast survey.
"Welcome aboard, doc." he said.

"Sorry it took so long. Things are busy out there." replied Joe. He
knelt next to Johnny when he gestured that the man was first to be treated.

Gage sighed, lifting his hands away from a carotid pulse. "I recommend we move
the doctor here out. He's taken a pretty good crack on the head from
that surgical lamp." he said, pointing to the shattered one lying 
broken on the floor near them. 

Joe peeled back the head bloody surgeon's eyes. "He's stable?"

Johnny nodded. "Nurse Wells has taken good care of him."

Early looked up at her after checking the doctor's I.V. flow rate.
"Stay with him, Nurse. Tell the triage team to send him to Rampart."

Wells assented as Gage got up to accept a stokes that Marco
and Chet were lowering down to them from the opened window.

Joe rose to his feet, peering in the darkness to avoid debris.
He crossed over to get Roy's report on the little girl. 

"Things aren't quite as simple here, doc." DeSoto said.

The nurse delivering oxygen to her spoke. "The doctor had just
started an appendectomy." she said, lifting the sterile drape
over the child's lower abdomen. "I've done my best to keep the
incision sterile."

Joe bent down and looked at the wound. 

"What do you think, doc?" asked DeSoto about her options for
extrication. 

"I'd think we'd better finish the job, right here." said Joe, crossing
over to a sink nearby. "Get some light on the patient." he said
to the firefighters working above them in the viewing balcony.
"I'll need surgical gloves." he said to the nurse as he turned the
water spigot. Nothing came out.  Joe frowned. "...and how about a
bottle of alcohol?" he requested.

A couple of minutes later, Johnny was free to help. Together, he
and Roy got the trays Joe needed laid out. Sweating, Joe began
where the M.D. had left off. Silence fell as the third nurse and
the stokes were lifted out of the room.

The heat was intense and Early's brow was covered in perspiration.
"Hernostat.." he called out.  The vitals nurse handed one to him
using a sterile towel. Joe used it. Then,..."scalpel.." he said.

The nurse caught her breath a minute later. "Doctor, her blood pressure
is dropping."

Joe didn't look up. He started to work faster. "Respirations?"

"Shallow." she replied.

Nearby, Roy turned up the girl's new Ringer's I.V. 

"Just give me thirty seconds." Joe said to her. He reached into the
incision with a precision scalpel slowly.  He jerked it out again when the
room suddenly began to shake violently around them. Everybody tensed
nervously and cast their heads about, studying the swaying ceiling and
especially, the ring of fragile glass windows ringing above them. They held
and soon, the aftershock passed. Early returned to work as he made a careful
cut and cauterized the bleeder he had made in the girl's intestinal wall from
the snipped free appendix. A few seconds later, he slowly looked up.
"Vitals?"

The nurse at the girl's head smiled over the intubation tube. "Improving."

Early nodded, shifting on a foot. "Let's close."

Roy and Gage, beside him in surgical masks, also grinned in relief.
They looked on with interest as the nurse handed Joe suturing equipment
and a forcep fitted with a curved needle and thread. Early felt their concern
and he winked at them, to let them know they were in the clear at last.

-----------------------------------------------------------------------

Outside the shattered hospital a while later, an ambulance opened its
rear doors to receive the sleeping, recovering little girl being carried by
attendants and overseen by the head surgical nurse. Gage and Roy
left the building, brushing off earthquake dust from their turnouts.

Nearby, Joe Early was talking on their biophone, set onto the ground.

The anesthetic nurse, watching everything, leaned on the wall with fatigue as
she finally gave into relief.. and some rest. Johnny, noticing, crossed over
to her. 

"How do you feel?" he asked the nurse.

"Like crying.." she replied, not smiling. "Only I'm too tired."

Gage gripped her arm in comfort. "That was some job. Pitch black
and you kept her going."

Biting her lip, she squeezed out a half grin as she looked down. She pulled
out a penlight from her dirty pocket and flicked it on. It didn't light. " The
batteries died just a few minutes before you came." she sobbed, smiling.

Grinning, Johnny gave her his spare to replace it.

Joe Early was deep into conversation with Rampart. "The McBurney type
incision was used. I'm also sending along a culture for lab analysis. Conditions
weren't the most sterile so keep the antibiotic therapy going a little longer than
usual."

##10-4, Joe.## replied Kel Brackett over the line. ##What about the rest of it?##
the doctor asked.

----------------------------------------------------------------------

In the base station, Kel scribbled more onto his notes as Joe replied back.
##Evacuations still underway. I had a talk with the administrator about thirty
minutes ago. Our best estimate then was about two hundred patients to go. 
That's not counting injured employees.##

Sighing in dismay, Brackett told his colleague the straight truth. "10-4, Joe. We
can handle about a hundred more,.. unless other areas pick up."

Early copied him. ##Ten four.##

Dixie entered the alcove from the busy, crowded corridor desk. "Kel, Obstetrics
is loaded. Another one came in. Treatment One."

Kel's eyebrows raised as he toggled off Joe's connection. "Premature?"

McCall nodded. "One month. Mike Morton's with her."

Brackett licked his lips, accepting the news as just another brick on the pile.
"I'll give him a hand." he said, moving off. "Call obstetrics and ask them if
they can accomodate a few more patients."

Dixie frowned. "They've already doubled up on their rooms."

Brackett held open the door. "Then suggest some partitions in the hallway."
he told her. Kel moved off towards Treatment One, making his way 
through the throng of the injured and the sick. 

Dixie began to pick up the house phone when she was interrupted by the
approach of Katy Anderson, a small elderly woman in her early sixties.
She was favoring a left arm that was totally immobile. "Nurse.." she grimaced.
"Please.. You must help me." she said with a sob. 

Dixie whirled, recognizing the woman immediately. "Mrs. Anderson, what are
you doing here?"

Katy sagged visibly where she stood. "I.. I can't move my arm. ..I can't.. 
Won't someone please help me? It's.. paralyzed." 

McCall reclarified their situation. "Where's Nurse Collins? Wasn't she helping 
you?"

Katy answered reluctantly. "She was called away."

Dixie nodded in understanding. "We are terribly busy." she said, setting down
Joe's patient tape recording.

Anderson sensed Dixie's growing distractions. "But I'm paralyzed. Can't you
understand?" she said wailing weakly, insisting.

McCall stood and aided her to a seat in the Nurse's station, comforting her
with a grip around the shoulders. "Certainly I can, Mrs. Anderson. Here, sit
down."

Katy did, still holding her arm. 

"There." Dixie smiled. "Now let me ask. Does your arm hurt anywhere?"

Katy met her eyes, timidly. "No. It's... just paralyzed. I can't move it. Right
after the quake is when it happened."

Dixie reacted, thinking. "Yes, and you told the doctor that?" she asked.

The older woman nodded. "I don't think he believed me."

McCall checked the pulse in that wrist, feeling its temperature. "Sure he
believed you. It's just that there's so many serious injuries coming in..."
she broke off, realizing that a lecture was upsetting Mrs. Anderson. She
rethought her plan of action. "Tell you what. We're so overloaded with
work, we could use some help." she suggested, when her findings proved
that everything was normal in the arm. 

"Help?" Katy piped up in a sniffly daze.

Dixie met her eyes evenly, narrowing them in consternation, but mildly.
"Is your right arm okay?"

"Yes. I guess so." peeped Katy.

"It would be a real help if you could write out some identification tags for us."
Dixie told her.

Katy reacted with hope and surprise. "Me? You want me to help?"

Dixie smiled, nodding slowly. "And when we get caught up, maybe I can
get the doctor to take another look." she said, patting the left arm significantly.
"What do you say?"

Katy was bewildered. "I...I guess it will be all right."

Dixie gripped her chin and slid the tags and patient lists in front of her.
"Terrific. Now,..here's the tags. Just make one for each name on
these lists of paper, okay?"

Katy was still uncertain and it showed in her voice. "O-okay."

Dixie nodded with satisfaction and winked assuringly at her as she
left the desk area.

Anderson wondered a few beats but never figured out that she had
been outmaneuvered. She shrugged and began her task like a shy
librarian who had the pressure taken off on a heavy load of books.

--------------------------------------------------------------------------

In Treatment One, a 21 year old Kathy Williams lay in heavy pregnancy,
wincing in pain and trying to breathe deeply. Brackett, with the intern
Mike Morton and a nurse were preparing her for delivery. An orderly
entered with an emergency incubator.

Kathy grunted as she struggled not to push when she saw it." I.. I just
don't understand. My doctor said it was a perfect pregnancy. It's too
early. I...I have a month to go.." she panted.

Kel looked up from his examination of her. "Now, don't worry. This earthquake
has caused a lot of women to deliver early.  You're going to be fine.
Breathe deeply now." he ordered.

Kathy did so, looking up at Morton, who was holding her hand with his
free one. "My husband.. have you been able to locate him?"

Morton shook his head. "I'm sorry. All the phone lines to that area are out."

Kathy slumped back onto her pillow as another contraction eased up.
"Isn't it ironic. Married to a doctor and he's never around when you need him."

Brackett shot a questioning glance over at Morton.

Williams missed it. "I..I guess they held him over because of the earthquake.
They're.. probably getting a lot of patients, too."

Mike replied to Kel. "Doctor Mike Williams. He's an intern at Olive View. Works
the midnight to eight shift."

Brackett and Morton interacted knowledge they didn't want to impart in looks
as Kathy was lost in another severe labor pain that almost lifted her off the bed.
She screamed as they began work to bring another life into the world. 

END    Act One  

----------------------------------------------------------------

Photo:  Hands unscrewing screws closeup.

Photo: Marco and Chet working in helmets, dark.

Photo:  Johnny Gage being lowered on rope.

Photo:  A child being intubated in surgery.

Photo:  Joe Gage in surgery. 

Photo:  A surgeon's scalpel.

Photo:  Joe on the phone.

Photo:  The opened biophone on the street.

Photo:   Gage talking with a nurse.

Photo:   Dixie with an older lady.

Photo:  A panicky triaged woman.

Photo:  A doctor examing fetal heartsounds.

Photo:  Brackett and Morton working surgery.
 
**************************************************
From :  patti keiper <pattik1@hotmail.com> 
Sent :  Sunday, May 20, 2007 6:05 PM 
Subject :  The Nature of Folks.. 

Richter Six,  Mark VII Limited and Universal Studios Production # 35716
Original Teleplay Character Dialogue was written by Michael Donovan,
August 30th, 1972.

-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
     
The day was crawling by like a snail. Slowly though, the response
to Alameda grew stronger and more organized. Copter ten had
been cleared to land on the roof, evacuating the most critical 
injuries that were being found inside to other hospitals. 

At the north end, the emergency room's crushed receiving dock
became the source of numerous litters being carried by firefighters,
attending the trauma victims, and the dead. 

The fire department radio only punctuated the scope of the disaster
that had befallen them county wide. Vast numbers of apparatus 
and situation reports echoed off the twisted building in splinters,
matching the whole fever pitch of the scene unfolding within its shadow.

Roy and Johnny picked up their pace a little faster in the parking lot,
heading for the partially buried doors. Chet Kelly crawled out from
underneath an exposed rafter capped crack in the pile and he motioned
to them. "This way."

Gage cleared his throat of dust. "Whatta you have?"

Kelly showed them the widest way into the rubble and he started
shoving their medical gear that they had carried into a hole in front of
him. "Found a guy in Central Supply, tangled up in a conveyer belt."
he replied.

Hurrying, the three of them followed somebody's trail line in which led
to the rescue site in the bowels of the hospital. Already, the area was
lit up by portable lights focused on a gnarled conveyer track buried in
debris. Already, Captain Stanley, Lopez and Stoker were pulling off
pieces of rubble from around a specific spot. 

Hank didn't look up as he kept digging when he felt Roy and Johnny appear
behind him. "He must've crawled under there for cover when it hit." he
clarified.

DeSoto shoved his helmet a little higher up onto his head. "Have you been
able to talk to him?"

Stanley shook his head. There had been an adverse change. "It's been
about ten minutes. We're just about through to him."

Roy and Johnny moved their gear over to a safe open area and began
pitching in with the task of widening their access hole. Roy found something
in the dust and picked it up. It was a name tag which read Walter Jacques,
Supply Clerk. Gage grunted and one last boulder of concrete finally fell
away into eager firefighter hands. Inside, he could see the sprawled but
unpinned frame of the fifty something man, lying on his side, coated in
plaster powder. Roy quickly exposed his neck, feeling for a pulse with
a gloveless hand. "He's arrested." he said when he felt no beat or
signs of respirations.  He turned Walter onto his back, crouching beneath
the low ceiling of the collapse and began C.P.R.  "Start some air." he
ordered. 

Kelly nimbly wormed inside the gap with the oxygen bottle and began bagging
Walter on ambu.

Johnny, meanwhile had snatched for the biophone. He looked up after checking
its antennae and wires multiple times. "Something's wrong. I can't get a transmit
light." he said to the others.

DeSoto grunted, keeping his compressions fast and firm. "We need a doctor's
approval for drugs and he's gonna need some." he said, casting a head down
at the man he was working on to further show that he was actually injury clear
and possibly suffering from a non traumatic condition. 

Gage moved. "I'll try to dig one up." he said tightly, getting frustrated with
the dead phone. He got to his feet, heading for the door with his HT to
find some open sky.

Roy motioned for Lopez to take over the C.P.R. so he could hook up the ekg
monitor unfettered. Marco began counting off sets to match Chet's ventilations.

-------------------------------------------------------------------------------
Gage turned around in the darkened hospital corridor full of evacuating
personnel and patients. He collapsed his handy talkie's antennae derisively
and repocketed it. No one at Command had a doctor in the triage center to
spare and L.A. was tied up to the point of standstill on live medic calls, 
so Johnny began searching among the Alameda staffers for some help.
He shouted at large. "Anybody know where a doctor is close by?"

Most of the nurses and orderlies around him shook their heads and kept on
rushing their victims to the much safer conditions outside. 

Sighing in frustration, Gage headed for another group of rescuers.
"I'm looking for a doctor. It's urgent." he said, whirling in place, still in his helmet.

He recognized a pair of paramedics bearing out a man on a litter wearing
white bandages over his eyes. He approached them, hoping for better 
information. "You guys seen a doctor around here?" he asked them.

Unexpectedly, the man on the stretcher in their hands replied. "I'm a doctor,
but not in much shape to do anything for you."

Gage looked down and suddenly realized that the paramedic firefighters'
victim was wearing a lab coat, complete with a broken stethoscope angled 
around his neck. Johnny looked up at the medics. 

"We found him in the lab... Acid." they told him.

Johnny knelt down where they had paused and now, he could read the Doctor's 
name tag. Williams, it said. Gage grunted in disappointment when he saw the
stains of burns soaking through the dressings covering the physician's eyes.

Williams heard him. "What is it?"

Johnny hesitated, looking around again for another option, but he didn't find it.
Gage sighed. "I'm a paramedic, doctor. We have a man in full arrest."

Williams was in pain, but sharp. "..and need approval for drug administration?"

Gage touched him, gripping his hand in greeting. "Yes, sir."

"Well, that's one contribution I can make. Let's go." he told the medics carrying
him. No one protested it. Johnny led the way. 

-------------------------------------------------------------------
The scope displaying by the gang's knees was sounding a steady alarm tone.
Kelly was still providing breaths to Jacques around Marco's C.P.R. compressions.

Gage and the firefighters with their stretchered burden arrived with
a scuffle on stone. Johnny could see Roy was in the process of starting an I.V.

Johnny couldn't wait with his news. "I got a doctor." he explained.

DeSoto looked up at his partner with a puzzled look and glanced again
at Williams as he was set onto the ground near them.

"He's blind. Hit in the face with acid." Gage told him.

Roy pursed his lips in an obvious I know that frown.

Williams spoke up. "Okay, what's going on?" he asked strongly over
the noise of shovel digging and other search activity going on around him.

Roy shifted his eyes, not really believing what he was hearing coming from
somebody who was most definitely still a disaster victim. After a beat, he
said. "I had a rate of 32, doc. It dropped to ten. He's male, Caucasian, about
fifty."

Williams turned his bandaged head toward the sound of the wailing ekg monitor
declaring crisis. "I.V.?"

DeSoto replied. "Yes, sir. D5W."

The doctor asked more. "Respirations?"

Roy said. "Almost none."

Johnny was crouched in front of the Datascope, studying it. "Roy,..straight line.
Ventricular standstill." he said when it changed into something new.

The ekg screen's activity levelled downward as they watched. 

Williams coughed. "Do you have atropine?" he asked, breaking them out of
a freeze.

DeSoto held up a grimy hand. "Right here in my hand, doc." he said quickly,
holding it up so Gage saw that it was uncapped and ready to use.

"Push two milligrams." grunted the injured doctor as he felt himself getting
covered with a shock blanket by Cap and Stoker.

Roy did so, injecting the bradycardic fix into the I.V. port. "Two milligrams."
he parroted. Then his eyes fell on the monitor again where course wavers
of reactive V-fib were beginning. "Recommend we increase the drip." he reported.

Williams nodded from where he lay. "Okay."

Gage opened up the clamp on the I.V. to wide until the flow began to gush
into Jacques' vein.

"Take a reading.." gasped the doctor on the ground, trying not to wince because
of his burned eyes.

DeSoto nodded to Marco to stop C.P.R. for a few moments.

A sluggish ventricular attempt rewarded them on the monitor.

Roy smiled. "He's tracking.. about twenty." he reported to Williams as he
gestured to Lopez to start up again.

The doc smiled. "Okay. Let's try some Isoproterenol. Two milligrams."

Gage reached into the drug box, fitted a needle and squirted out a payload
of air from the medication before he injected it into Jacques' intravenous port.
"Two milligrams of Isoproterenol pushed, doc." he said.

"Okay, hold up on C.P.R. Take a reading." Williams panted. 

They did so, and the oscilloscope began to show a faster rate.

"Thirty five, doc." DeSoto called out.

"Increase the drip." 

Johnny turned up the dial and finger flicked the drip chamber a few times.
"Drip increased."

Roy nodded as he read the screen. "Forty five, fifty, sixty..."

"Easy." gasped Williams. "Try to hold him at seventy."

DeSoto and Gage adjusted the I.V. until the warning alarm went
away. "Seventy and holding." Roy finally said, after confirming what
they were seeing with a carotid pulse check.

Walter began to come around, twitching under the flowing oxygen
mask and bag Chet held over his nose and mouth. 

Gage grinned. "We have a conscious patient, doc."

Taking a deep breath, Williams finally let his head fall on the pillowed
emergency blanket that was warming him. "Good enough. Keep him
stable.. and get him to a hospital." the doctor swallowed dryly. He finally
let Hank set him on some oxygen. 

"Yes, sir." said Roy.

Lopez, Kelly, Cap and DeSoto began loading up Walter onto a stokes
as the other paramedics picked up Williams, too. 

Gage crossed over to him. "For the report, doc. Can I get your name?"

The doc replied. "Williams. Mike Williams. And you?"

"Johnny Gage."

"Nice job, Gage." said the doctor, finally relaxing into rest.

"Good luck, doc." Johnny told him, grasping his shoulder for a bit.

Trying hard to smile around his pain, Williams half grinned. Then he
was carried away.

Roy and Gage watched him go with Walter's party thoughtfully.
Johnny was reflective. "It's something how people hold together when
the chips are down."

Roy nodded, reaching for their medical gear to package it up.
"I hope he gets the kind of help he just gave."

Gage nodded in agreement, wholeheartedly.

----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
Alameda was bleeding smoke on the other side of the parking lot.
A fire escape stairwell tower had collapsed onto the pavement and camp
crews were hard at work chipping into the concrete slabs for access. A skip
loader was hauling away hastily tossed debris and a crane was being used
to move cement and tangled re-bar from the site under excavation.

The gang from Station 51 hurried over to this next assignment with full
regalia. Hank shared what he already knew. "The best run down they could
get from the Administrator is a good possibility one and possibly two
people were in that smoke tower when it went."

Johnny looked over at him from the scene. "Do they have a handle on how
many are still missing?"

Stanley shook his head. "They're working on it now. It's a big job. I understand
they did retrieve the hospital records about thirty minutes ago."

"That'll be a start." Gage said, tightening his helmet. 

Hank whistled piercingly as he held up his arms, calling for an all halt.
"Okay! Let's hold it up a minute! Hold up!" he shouted.

The gang waited while all the workmen with the heavy equipment shut them
down one by one for complete silence. Then Hank nodded at Kelly and Johnny
who went into the exposed horizontally lying stairwell with Kennedy probes.

Repeatedly, Gage and Chet shoved the listening rods in between boulders and
cabling, tilting their heads as they waited for any sound made by survivors.

The hush over the scene grew eerie, as echoes of helicopters landing and
taking off on the other side of the parking lot droned softly over the sound of
sirens coming from the city.

Then Chet looked up. "I've got something." he said to Cap, nodding firmly 
in his earphones. All eyes turned to him as he probed a little deeper, arrowing
in on a telltale sound only he could hear.

Chet held his breath, grimacing as he moved his head around a sharp outcropping
to get to the narrow crack he had found a little closer. He let out his breath explosively.
"Somebody's in there.."  he said, listening again for a few seconds. "Yeah. I
can hear them breathing."

Kelly pulled out the long probe as the crews around him enthusiastically re-began
the work of removing the gigantic pile of collapse in front of them. He patted the rock
gratefully, offering a gesture of encouragement to those still trapped beneath it.

--------------------------------------------------------------------

Photo:  Gage and Roy running with gear through the parking lot.

Photo:  Chet talking with Gage in helmets.

Photo:   Roy, Johnny Gage searching through  rubble.

Photo:  Gage running through a darkened hospital.

Photo:   A head injured man.

Photo:   Chet and the gang digging out someone.

Photo:    Crews digging out.

Photo:   Sifting through rubble closeup.

**************************************************
From :  patti keiper <pattik1@hotmail.com> 
Sent :  Tuesday, May 22, 2007 8:04 PM 
Subject :  The Dark Hole.. 
 
Richter Six,  Mark VII Limited and Universal Studios Production # 35716
Original Teleplay Character Dialogue was written by Michael Donovan, 
August 30th, 1972.

-----------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Progress was inexorably slow. Johnny and Roy's focus had
narrowed down to one collectively shifted piece of debris at a 
time. A steel rod here, a chunk of concrete there. But progress 
was being made only as fast as it could go that still allowed for 
their relative safety. 

DeSoto pulled out a large slab of concrete and heaved it aside,
panting. He sat back, taking a short break, leaning on his knees.

Gage was digging quickly, when he noticed his partner was looking
somewhat dejected and hardly working. He put an encouraging
smile on his face. "Word will come soon, Roy." he said.

Roy shook his head, licking dry lips, reluctantly meeting Johnny's
eyes with his own. "Chatsberry's a big area." he whispered. Then
he finally gave voice to what was bothering him. "Why nothing?"

Johnny paused in his work, sat down next to Roy, and laced
his dusty gloves' fingers together. "Maybe, that's good. If there's
no significant damage, they wouldn't be reporting on it."

DeSoto, eagerly grabbed onto the thought. "Or the word's not
getting this far.."   He looked up at a crackle coming from a portable
radio, tuned to a local news network. 

##...The earthquake which measured 6.6 on the Richter Scale, shook
the entire Los Angeles area. The epicenter was in Soledad Canyon,
10 miles east of Newhall and six miles north of the heavily populated San 
Fernando Valley. Fire and Police dispatchers have been swamped with 
calls. Major rescue activities are still underway at the Alameda Hospital which
houses 800 patients and staff. Hardest hit areas include the Saugus-Newhall
area, San Fernando and portions of the Chatsberry area.##

Roy startled, beginning to listen more closely.

##Helicopters and ambulances have been dispatched from the entire 
county to assist in evacuation. There are few accurate estimates of the
number injured or dead. At 3pm, Governor Ronald Reagan declared a
state of disaster. He is scheduled for an inspection tour of the area...##

The workman shut the radio off unexpectedly as he returned to work
with a new pair of digging gloves. 

Roy and Johnny hung their heads, fatigued and rattled by the news.

Johnny looked up at Roy. "Want to ask the Captain for relief? You could
probably check it out in a couple of hours."

DeSoto just turned back to the debris pile in front of him, and started to dig
again. "We're still getting life signs down in there."

Johnny nodded and joined him to help shift a large slab he had gripped.

Near them, a skiploader took another careful bite out of the fallen
stairwell. Everywhere, crews were brightly colored pools of exhaustion,
and depression. Another hole presented itself and Gage inserted the
listening end of his Kennedy probe into the gap. He bent over the
earphones as he listened to the sounds down below at another 
all halt called for by Captain Stanley.  He smiled. "We've still got life 
signs. Just a couple of feet to go." he reported loudly, so everyone
could hear him. 

Renewed, the rescue diggers turned back to the rubble pile with fresh
energy.

Gage, sweeping away plaster and wall sand, spoke. "Can you even
imagine what it's been like for whoever's in there?" he asked Roy.

DeSoto shook his head, pushing away another boulder. "I have a feeling
they're going to be mighty happy to get out." A crumbling sound threw 
Johnny off balance in a hole. Roy caught him by the shoulders reflexively,
thinking it was the start of a cave-in. But then a happy shout reassured him.

"I'm through!" Gage reported, excited as he thrust his front half in a little
deeper. 

Other workman gathered around and began to feverishly pull away more
debris, making the hole around Johnny's arm, even larger. 

Hank approached. "Can you squeeze in?"

Gage looked up. "Yes, sir. I think so."

Cap nodded. "Better check their condition."

Johnny nodded, glancing up. "Somebody have a light?!" he yelled.
A workman passed a flashlight over to him. Gage flicked it on as
he turned to Roy and Cap. "Give me a hand." 

Hank and DeSoto helped lower Johnny into the widening, sour smelling hole.

As the fire paramedic disappeared into darkness, the other workers silently
gathered around, waiting and watching. The seconds dragged and expressions
of worry and hope shifted on their faces when they realized the moment they
all had been working for had finally come. 

A beam of light danced up from the hole and slowly, Gage pulled himself out.
He sat on the edge of it and dejectedly turned off the torch as he looked up
at the others. "Two people, they're both dead."

----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
The gang had gathered around the Salvation Army Canteen set up
in the parking lot under some thick shade trees that hadn't been shivered
apart by the quake. A young woman in her early twenties was cheerfully
handing out donuts and coffee to the weary firemen from her counter.

Roy and Johnny didn't yet know her name. They greeted Sally Thompson
with just a look as they leaned tiredly into the window of the trailer when
they realized that no one needing relief, was behind them in line. 

"How's it going, fellas?" Sally asked, smiling brightly as she handed them 
two full steaming cups. 

Not wanting to relive the earlier part of the afternoon, they both shrugged
noncommittally. And failed to hide their real emotions. 

"Oh, oh.." Sally softened, toning down her good mood. "Don't tell me ol'
mother dejection is setting in?"  She set down her towel, untied her apron
and left the trailer to join them at their side. "Can I get you something else?"
she asked seriously.

"Thanks, no. This is fine." said Gage.

Sally studied their faces and didn't look away. "Been here long?"

Gage took a sip without really tasting his coffee. "Quite a while." he nodded,
looking at the cracked up ground underneath his shoes. 

Thompson touched his turnout sleeve. "Pretty rough in there, huh?"

Johnny didn't look up, but he spoke, answering her. "It wouldn't be
bad if....we could find a few more while they're still alive."

Sally pegged where they had been. "Oh, yes. I heard. Those two people
in the Smoke Tower."

Roy and Johnny nodded, rubbing at the dirt on their skin. 

Sally's voice changed with some news. "Did you hear about the four people
they were excavating for in the Payroll Room?"

DeSoto reacted with interest. "No, what about them?" he asked. He
and Johnny exchanged half smiles of hope. 

Sally took their cups, and topped them off again with a pot near her
hand. "It took them almost six hours to get to them. The people hid under
desks in the room."

"They got them out?" Johnny asked, some life returning to his whole body
along with a grin. 

Sally smirked neutrally, then she nodded finally, just to tease him. "A little 
tired and scratched, but alive and well."

Gage sighed and relaxed against the counter top. "That is good news."

Sally smiled even bigger at the sight of his face. "That IS what I'm here for."

"Huh?" sputtered Johnny.

Sally cocked her head, all teeth and glowing happiness. "Good news." she
replied. "I'm in charge of morale around here, you know." she said no nonsense.

Roy and Johnny both smiled, and this time without the accompanying strain,
as they realized that the cute, pert girl in front of them was also very good at 
her job.

Sally knew her mission had finally been accomplished. She got back inside
the small white and red trailer, retied on her apron and started washing her hands
vigorously under a water dispenser. "Now," she addressed them, looking up.
"As I asked before. Can I do anything else for you?" she wondered mischievously.

Gage snorted, grateful. "You've done more than enough. Morale wise, that is."
he told her.

Sally gripped the edges of her frilly red apron, and curtsied. "Thank you, kind sir."
she remarked, her eyes twinkling as she did so.

DeSoto chuckled at last, a soft released sound. "Uh, miss.."

"Sally. Sally Thompson." she offered.

Roy's face crusted over again in a blanket of worry and that made Sally's do
the same thing. "Sally, is it possible you've heard anything about the Chatsberry
area?"

She set her hand on his, where he was gripping his cup tightly. "I'm sorry."
Then she realized. "Your home?"

Roy looked down, hiding his reactions. But she could still see the glint of tears
welling in the corners of his eyes.  He spoke, fighting them back. "I guess no
news is good news." DeSoto tried to smile back at her. "Thanks, anyway."

He started off, moving after Johnny, who had drained his cup and tossed it away
into a garbage can, but was stopped at her voice.

Sally cupped her hands around her mouth, animatedly mirthful. "Well, give me a
chance, will you?"

Roy turned around, confused, with some amusement at being resummoned.

She clarified, licking at the point of a pencil unnecessarily as she pulled out
a napkin from the automatic dispenser near her elbow. "Name and address, 
please, sir.." she sniffed, acting like a snobby hotel front desk woman.

DeSoto's mouth returned to a ghost of relaxation at her exaggerated play.
"Roy DeSoto. 1610 Kelmore." he told her.

Sally wrote it down. "Sixteen Ten Kelmore." she nodded deftly. "I'll see
what I can find out." she promised, dropping the funny air instantly. 

"It's nice of you to offer." Roy said politely, not assured.  Then he looked
back at Gage who had returned after trashing their snack leftovers. "We'd
better get back to it, Johnny." 

Roy turned and walked off, heading in the direction of the Command
Post table so they could get their next assignment from a battalion chief.

Johnny watched him go on ahead.
Gage turned to Sally. "You think you can find out something, for real?"

Sally straightened her body. "I wouldn't put him on." she said seriously.

Johnny looked around, eyeing up the totally destroyed landscape around
them. "But.. but how?"

Sally smiled, with confidence. "Don't underestimate the power of the Salvation
Army. I can't guarantee anything but.. I'll give it a try."

Gage grinned. "Can't ask for more'n that." he nodded politely, tipping the edge
of his helmet at her in salute. He turned to follow Roy.

"Hey, fireman." Sally shouted after him.

Gage turned.

"Keep smiling." she said, with a broad grin, wearing her apron like Little Bo
Peep around her face in mock.

Johnny chuckled and instantly began liking her. He waved back, then hurried to
catch up to Roy. "Nice kid, huh?" he said.

"Yeah.." DeSoto replied, still down.

Gage smacked him on the arm. One that wasn't sore. "Come on." he drawled.
"Who knows? Maybe she'll learn something for you." he suggested, infected
with confidence.

DeSoto was morose and his answer stung the air between them.
"I won't hold my breath, okay?" he said, not meeting his eyes as a dull grimness
began to retake its hold.

Johnny stopped in his tracks, at a loss for words. He started to say something, but
then broke off, uncertain. All he could do, was follow him, wherever he went.

Around them, the cacophony of rescue continued, drowning out the birdsong 
coming from the quake dusted trees.

....END  of ACT TWO...

-----------------------------------------------------------------------

Photo:  Roy and Johnny in helmets looking serious.

Photo:  Animated gif, scanner radio.

Photo:   Johnny seeing something through a debris crack.

Photo:   Cap leaning on wall in a helmet, tense.

Photo:   Search rescuers getting food at a Salvation Army Canteen.

Photo:   A sooty Roy and Johnny leaning on the squad outside.

Photo:   A very concerned young woman close up.

Photo:   Roy, looking scared, day in turnout.

Photo:    Animated gif, salvation army disaster services truck.

Photo:   DeSoto, Gage and Cap returning to a collapse site.

Photo:  Wide angle view of a disaster scene by a fallen building.

************************************************** 
From :  patti keiper <pattik1@hotmail.com> 
Sent :  Thursday, May 24, 2007 6:20 AM 
Subject :  The Long Hours.. 

Richter Six,  Mark VII Limited and Universal Studios Production # 35716
Original Teleplay Character Dialogue was written by Michael Donovan, 
August 30th, 1972.

-----------------------------------------------------------------------------------


It was quiet at Rampart on the general patient floor. 

Dixie McCall smiled as she handed a newborn baby off to Kathy 
Williams where she lay on a bed. The night was almost peaceful 
as the young mother sighed wearily, accepting the child. 
Dixie beamed. "Your bouncing baby boy."

Kathy, with tear filled eyes, took her son and held him tightly as Dr.
Brackett entered.

"Now, didn't I tell you everything would be okay with that delivery?"
Kel asked.

Williams nodded. "Is he.... Is he really all right?"

Brackett grasped one of the infant's hands to test his grip.
"Oh, a little on the lightweight side, but a few weeks should take care 
of that."

Kathy wiped her eyes and pulled the blanket away from the
baby's face and admired him for a few seconds. "He's so wrinkled."
she smiled. "But the spitting image of his dad."

Dixie and Kel shared a look that they couldn't quite hide. They tried to
tone it down but Kathy picked up that something was wrong right away.
As she tried to learn more, Dixie moved to gather the baby up into her
arms. "Okay, visit's over. Back to the nursery for this young man."

Kathy let him go and watched as Dixie left the room softly.
"Doctor, something's wrong.. What is it?  The baby?" she immediately
fretted. 

Kel touched her arm. "I told you. The baby is fine." he said as the smile
washed off his face. 

"What is it then? Something's bothering you." she insisted.

Brackett sat down on the edge of Kathy's bed. "Your husband, Mrs.
Williams."

Kathy sat up in her sheets, gripping them. "Mike? Something's happened
to Mike?!"

Kel sought to calm her, taking her hand. "The earthquake almost completely
destroyed Olive View. Doctor Williams was in the laboratory.."

Williams interrupted. "Oh, G*d, no!"

Brackett kept right on talking, sharing more. "We have him here, now."

"Here?" she asked. "What happened to him?" she said, beginning to sweat.

"Now take it easy." Kel soothed, not letting go of her. "I want you to listen
very closely to everything I say."

Fearfully, the new mother waited on the verge of panic, as she learned about
her husband. 

"He was working with some acid. When the shock of the earthquake hit, it 
spilled. His eyes are damaged." Kel said.

Kathy tried to absorb the news. "He's blind? Mike's blind?"

Brackett handed her a tissue, as tears began to roll down her face. 
"We don't know for sure how bad it is. I've brought in Doctor Lindholm.
He's the best in the country. He's been with Mike for several hours now."

Mrs. Williams regarded Kel, unbelievingly for a few moments, shaking
her head. Turning into her pillow she began sobbing violently. "He hasn't
even seen his son."

Brackett leaned closer. "There's hope, Kathy. And you have to give it to him."

She looked at him with a kind of anger. "It will kill him, doctor. You don't know
how he's worked, studied.. His whole life is medicine." But then her fire faded
into grief and she threw up her hands, looking away as she cried.

Kel stood. "And it's not over. You have to believe that. Or he won't be able to."
he said. "That's why I'm telling you now. There's thousands of people that this
disaster has affected. Many have lost their lives, hundreds are homeless and 
injured. The ones that have made it through have only one thing to go on.
Hope. And that's what you must give your husband."

Kathy started to compose herself as her thoughts raced a mile a minute. 
"Does.. does he know I'm here?"

Brackett shook his head. "I haven't told him anything .....about you or the baby. 
I want you to tell him."

She looked away, grimacing at an ache that was more than just from her body.
"I-I don't know if I can face his disappointment."

Kel smiled. "I think you can. Doctor Lindholm has him scheduled for surgery
in the morning."

"Surgery?"

Brackett nodded. "It's the only chance he has. And you're the only one that 
can make him believe it."

Kathy stuttered. "He.. he doesn't want the operation?"

Kel just sighed. "He's taken all day to convince himself. He won't 
believe it will work."

"Will it, doctor? Will it work?"  She began sobbing when Kel didn't say
anything more.

-------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Dixie was at the nurses' station, handing Katy Anderson a styrofoam
cup of tea. The older woman accepted it gratefully and returned back
to work on some nametags. Dixie smiled at her perserverance.

She moved off to sit on a stool next to where Kel was returning a patient
chart. "How'd she take it, Kel?"

He lowered his eyes, absently toying with the chart rack. "We'll know better
in the morning."

Dixie pouted. "Poor thing. She's really been through it."

Kel moved over to the coffee pot and poured himself a cup.
Dixie declined the offer of one. "I just hope she has the strength for her
husband. He's going to need all she can give." he whispered.

"Miss McCall.. Miss McCall?" a voice began, breaking into their thoughts.
It was Katy, the senior who was complaining of a paralyzed arm at the desk.

McCall moved to her side. "Yes, Katy?"

"I've finished everything you gave me." And with both hands, she handed 
Dixie the box of completed identification tags. 

"Thank you, Katy. I see your arm is better." noticed Dixie.

Smiling broadly, Anderson beamed in her frame of gray hair. "About an
hour ago. It was like a miracle. All of a sudden, I noticed I was using it."

Dixie smiled. "That's wonderful, Katy."

"Is there anything else I can do?"

McCall took her hands gratefully. "You've done more than enough. Why
don't you go home and get some rest?"

Katy nodded. "Maybe tomorrow. I'm sure you'll still be busy. I'd like to help."
she said sincerely as she started heading off. 

"And we'd be pleased to have you." Dixie said after her.

"Good night." Kathy wished them, waving her left arm.

"Good night, Katy." McCall said, still smiling.

Kel crossed over to his head nurse, his curiosity peaked.
"Well, what was that all about?"

Dixie lifted her eyes up at his. "Our earthquake brought on total paralysis
in that little lady's left arm."

Brackett folded his arms together. "And you found a cure." he said, not
surprised.

Dixie nodded significantly. "I call it, psychological nursing for imagined
physical defect."

Kel snorted. "I'm impressed."

"You should be. After all, am I not your favorite nurse?" she said, leaning
into him. 

He advanced toward her and they melted into a brief hug. "Maybe I need
a reminder."

When he lingered, she fended him off playfully, pointing toward Emergency.
"We're still in the midst of disaster, doctor. Back to work."

Kel stopped teasing her hair around her cap. "It was nice forgetting for a 
minute or so."

Dixie sobered. "Yes. Yes, it was." She took in a deep breath. "I wonder how
things are going for Joe and the boys."

Brackett started off, heading for his next patient. "I'd imagine about two degrees
worse than they are here."

Dixie responded with a look of worry and fatigue as the weight of her 
responsibilities came flooding back.

-------------------------------------------------------------------------------

The darkness all but enveloped the temporary field hospital serving as
a morgue and triage center outside of Alameda. It was composed of
mattresses and beds placed in the less damaged south parking lot. A
small medical supply tent was near the center and a scattering of tables
were randomly arranged throughout the area. Ambulances continued to
shuffle patients from the location. There were but a few patients left to 
evacuate. The patch of pavement was poorly illuminated by portable 
lights as Joe Early, DeSoto, Gage and Cap gathered near one of the
tables, hovering over some paperwork. 

Early pointed. "...And if these records are accurate, according to my 
count anyway, all but four people are accounted for."

Gage took in a deep breath and let it out again forcefully. "Out of over
eight hundred, that's pretty close to done."

Hank rubbed his dirty nose. "Yeah, if we can find them."

Roy looked at all three of them. "Any suggestions?"

Cap nodded, loosening his helmet's chin strap. "I just went over it with
the C.P. staff." He showed them a map of the hospital. "Every area's been
gone through, except these three.." he indicated with a finger. "All
on the ground floor. The pharmacy, medical records, and the kitchen."

Early had an idea, flipping through his papers. "Maybe we can narrow it
down." he offered.

The others didn't catch on.

Joe reiterated. "All four are hospital employees." he said, studying
the map Cap had given them. "One's a custodian, two are dieticians,
and one's a maintenance man."

Johnny thought he saw where the doc was heading. "None of them
would normally have business in the Pharmacy or Medical Records,
would they?"

Early snapped his fingers. "That leaves the kitchen."

Hank smiled, appreciating Joe's angle more and more. "It's sound.
I'll have a talk with the Operational Chief. Maybe we can change
our priorities."

Joe eyeballed him eagerly. "If we're right, four lives may depend on it."

They hurried into action, heading for Incident Command.

---------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Full darkness had closed in around the Command Trailer as Hank
Stanley stepped down its steps, closing the door. DeSoto, Gage
and other firemen were waiting for him at the bottom stair.

Hank smiled. "The Chief agreed. He's moving all available resources
to the kitchen area."

Chet smiled. "Great. Let's go."

Cap held up a hand before they scattered for fresh gloves. "Hold on."
he chuckled. "I appreciate your enthusiasm. But your tour of duty's over.
You guys need some rest. "

Kelly shoved out his lower lip casually. "Not me. Besides, if we find em
tonight, there will BE no tomorrow. You have yourself one volunteer, Cap."
Chet said, saluting him with firm humor.

Most everyone else agreed with him, murmuring. Stanley saw them all
step forward. He shrugged. "It's your time." he said finally, giving in.

"Then let's get to it." Gage said for his fellow stationmates. 

They made for the base of the hospital's ruins, at a run.

--------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Photo:  Dixie tired in a treatment room.

Photo:  A new mother and her baby.

Photo: Doctor Brackett listening in a patient room.

Photo:  A frantic blond haired woman, sitting up in bed.

Photo:  Doctor Brackett, stymied.

Photo:  Dix and Kel discussing the status quo.

Photo:  A night command post table and battalion chief.

Photo:   Cap showing the gang a map at night.

Photo:    Chet smirking confidence at night.

Photo:   Cap thinking at night in a helmet by the engine.

Photo:  Joe, looking down and thoughtful in whites.

Photo:   A night fire scene and cop car.

Photo:  Roy grabbing gear out of the squad at night.

**************************************************
From :  patti keiper <pattik1@hotmail.com> 
Sent :  Thursday, May 24, 2007 2:59 PM 
Subject :  The Ties to Life.. 


Richter Six,  Mark VII Limited and Universal Studios Production # 35716
Original Teleplay Character Dialogue was written by Michael Donovan, 
August 30th, 1972.

-----------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Johnny stopped in his tracks. He had forgotten Roy's situation for a
moment. His smile fell away when he saw the sober reflection on
DeSoto's. "Roy, you go on ahead." he said, pointing to the relief
tent. 

"I hate to leave you guys." Roy said, ansing.

"Forget it. I'd go myself if I didn't know about my family." Johnny
replied quickly, feeling a lot. 

Roy stood there, looking lost in his turnout jacket. "I've got to
go, Johnny."

Gage finally grinned, making shooing gestures. "Well, quit talking
and get outta here."

Roy nodded, starting to move away. Gage felt a pang for Roy
when he stumbled once, starting to run for the communications tent.
::We're all tired.:: Johnny thought. ::And scared, him most of all.::

---------------------------------------------------------------------------

As he hurried away from the volunteer group, DeSoto was crossing
the parking lot near the Salvation Army Canteen truck. Sally
Thompson was walking a fast pace toward him.

"Hey, Roy DeSoto!" she shouted. 

DeSoto dragged himself somewhere out of worrying H*ll. He blinked,
bringing himself to the present, trying to place her.

"Remember me? The morale officer?" she said, reaching his side.
She took his hand, lifting up a piece of paper. "I have something to
keep you smiling.." she beamed.

A sob escaped Roy, as he began to grin in relief, happiness. He covered
his mouth with his hands, controlling a reaction of profound release.
It only grew bigger as he heard the news that he had for so long hoped for.

----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

In the ground level, Gage and the other personnel from Station 51, were
already casing a way in. Johnny set his glove on a badly crumpled door
leading to the kitchen. "The whole roof is down in there. Looks like we
start right here."

A voice from outside, joined them. "Well, then, let's get to it." said
Roy DeSoto, entering. Everybody became infected with his happiness
as Roy got to Johnny's side as fast as he could. "Like she said, the
Salvation Army can get around. Everything's fine at home."

The gang sighed and muttered thanks, offering their warm glances at Roy
before turning back to work. They chuckled, sharing Roy's relief.

"Keep on smiling." said Gage, handing Roy a pair of fresh digging gloves.
Then all got back to the serious work of making their way into the debris filled
kitchen. 

-----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

The firemen had made their way several feet inside. Others were present,
in the background, hauling out the debris passed to them. The mood
gripping everyone, was serious. Gage stood up for a few moments,
stretching his back. "This is going to take a while."

DeSoto nodded, grabbing a sip from his water canteen. "And chances of
survival don't look so good either."

Chet Kelly pulled away some debris near them, a slab of concrete, revealing
a void.  "Well, here's about six feet of free space." he celebrated. 
The gang moved into where he was kneeling as Kelly began crawling
down into the gap. "If I dig around long enough, we might tunnel under
every--"

Chet's sentence was drowned out as a tremendous aftershock erupted, 
causing new debris to fall around them in great clumps and clouds of dust.

"Kelly! Watch it!" Johnny hollered as soon as it started.

Chet, hearing him, tried to escape his confining hole, but it was too late.
He disappeared beneath a pile of falling debris.

Little time was wasted. The gang started feverishly digging at the pile
of rubble on top of Chet's position. Gage began to cut into a large cross
beam with a K-12. He finally cut through enough to shut the saw down.
Others moved in and muscled it out of the way. Gage moved back to give
them room. "Kelly?!" Johnny yelled. "Can you hear me?"

The gang froze, locked into ice, listening for a response.
Five seconds went by. Then ten. Fifteen.

Kelly's muffled voice filtered up through the boulders.
"Yeah..*gasp*..Listen, ......I can't......do much."

Gage didn't like the sound of his voice. "Are you hurt?"

Chet didn't reply back right away. When he did, he already 
sounded weaker. "I think so. My....my shoulder." his voice panted.

"Don't move around then." Johnny hollered back.

Hank tapped Lopez and Stoker on the shoulders. "Let's get some
support beams in there." he ordered.

Mike and Marco grabbed a couple of hydraulic support poles and
they began working to jam them into the fallen structure arching over
Chet's location. Gage and DeSoto continued to pull at the rubble
until finally, Johnny broke through.  He looked up and saw Kelly,
lying on his side, covered in debris. Johnny wormed his way in
on his stomach to his side. "How you doing?" he asked, pulling off
a glove to feel Kelly's carotid.

Chet didn't lift his head. "Pain's....starting to creep up on me."

"Where?" Gage asked.

"Right shoulder...It's hurting..*gasp* ...bad." Kelly's face was glistening
with sweat.

Gage shuffled around on the shards, examining Kelly briefly. Johnny
sighed when pressure to his abdomen didn't cause Chet to scream.
::No belly involvement here, causing that shoulder pain. Good.:: he
thought, counting Chet's respirations with a hand. A few light fingers
elicted a scream over the point of Chet's shoulder. Gage apologized
by gripping his face to hold him still as he trembled. Johnny began to back 
out when he trusted Kelly could stay conscious for him. "Sit tight, partner."
He reconfirmed that he could still get Chet's pulse down to the wrist.
::Pressure's still good.:: Johnny sighed in his mind. ::Good enough for
a pain killer.:: he decided.

Chet opened his eyes. They were very bright, not yet cloudy with his 
growing bodily distress. "Have I got a.. choice?" he tried to joke.

Gage got out the same way he came. He was helped free of the hole by
DeSoto. Hank gathered close to hear. Johnny told them. "He's got a broken
shoulder."

DeSoto guessed Johnny's plan of action. "Morphine?"

Johnny looked at them all. "He's gonna need it." Then he buried his worry
down deep. "Let's get this hole a little wider."

They moved in, resuming their dig as fast as they could while Roy set up
a line to Rampart and dragged the drug box over to where Johnny could
reach it.

----------------------------------------------------------------------------------

It was midnight in Treatment Room One at the hospital emergency room.

Chet Kelly was immobilized in a fresh shoulder splint and bandage that
already bore a tangle of still damp teasing autographs from just about the entire 
staff of Rampart. And his crewmates.  "...and would you believe I volunteered?"
he said, feeling no pain from the narcotic that was still working on him.

Kel Brackett chuckled. "I thought you were in the Army once, Kelly."

Chet blinked a couple of times, thinking. "Yeah, I was. What's that got to do
with it?" he wondered blearily as his EKG bleeped out near his head.

Brackett regarded him with amusement while he took another blood pressure.
"Wasn't that the first lesson? Don't volunteer for anything?"

Chet shrugged, and didn't wince at all. "This was was different, doc."

Kel sighed, taking off his stethoscope. "Yeah, it is."

Kelly sighed, and watched his I.V. drip for a while. Finally, he spoke.
"Have you heard anything from the guys?"

Brackett hung his head. "They're still digging."

Chet squeezed his eyes lids together, fighting off the sleepies. "Have 
they found anyone yet?"

Brackett shook his head. "Not yet."

Kelly panted with remembered suffocation. "I was in there... only about twenty minutes.
Those ....poor souls." he said, gripping his chest sympathetically. He almost pulled
the oxygen mask that was around his neck, back over his nose and mouth. Almost.

Brackett frowned at the image in his head about those still buried in sympathy.
But then Dixie poked her head into the door. "Kel." she motioned.

Kel crossed over to her, carrying Chet's chart.

McCall indicated the corridor. "Kathy Williams, she'd like to see you."

Brackett nodded, passing off his examination chart to Dixie. "Get Kelly to
the cast room as soon as you can. That morphine is going to start wearing off."

Dixie nodded and entered the room as Brackett left for the hallway.

He found her sitting in a wheel chair by the nurse's station. She was in her own
robe and slippers. Kathy afforded him a half smile.

"How are you feeling?" he asked.

"Okay. Modern medicine.." she chided. "Put mother up and get her moving, eh?"
she smirked. But then Williams sobered. "Doctor Brackett, I've been giving it a lot
of thought. I'd....like to see Mike now." she told him, with resolve filling her eyes.

Brackett sighed to himself and smiled. He moved to begin pushing her down the 
corridor to the elevators leading to the surgical floor leaning close to listen to
Kathy rehearse what she was going to say. He set a hand on her shoulder and wasn't
surprised, when she grasped it for encouragement.

----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Kel knocked on a patient room door and pushed it open. "I have a visitor for you, 
Mike." he said. Mr Williams was lying with his head raised in bed. His eyes were 
covered with thick, clean bandages, wound firmly around his head. He angled his 
face in apprehension, when a delicate perfume told him who it was.

"Mike?" Kathy said as Kel wheeled her to her husband's side.

"Kathy...." he sighed. Then he got angry and pressed back onto the bed stiffly.
"I told you I didn't want visitors, Dr. Brackett."

Kathy didn't flinch. She leaned forward. "Mike, I'm your wife, remember?"

Williams didn't soften. "I can't get it out of my mind."

Kathy glanced to Kel and then back at her husband, when Brackett nodded
encouragingly. "Sounds to me like you're...you're just giving up." she said,
pulling herself up straight, feeling ire for the first time.

"No," said Williams sharply. "I'm facing facts, Kathy. I'm blind. You know it.
I know it. And nothing's going to change." he said flatly, turning away from her.

Kathy melted, moving close to Mike's face. "I'm told there's a chance."

Mike shook his head. "Kathy, I'm a doctor, remember?"

Kathy started smiling and the tears began to fall as her joy began to soar.
"You're also a father, Mike. Can we at least tell our son you tried.. you had 
some hope?" she pleaded with conviction.

"The baby, you....." he broke off.
William's I.V.'d hand groped around until he had found her small, tiny one.
His fingers found a hospital bracelet taped around her wrist and his mouth 
dropped open at the final piece of evidence that told him everything he was
hearing, was true. 

Kathy nestled her soft face near his torn one. "He's beautful, Mike."

Williams laid quietly for long seconds, slowly moving his head.

"Mike?" she asked, lifting her head from his shoulder.

She felt her husband grip her grasping fingers tightly and he began to cry
silently. Feeling the old love returning, Kathy brought his hand up to her cheek,
desperately crying, softly, so only he could hear her.

Brackett lowered his head gratefully, and backed out of the room as 
softly as he could.

--------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Kel ran into Kelly as he was being wheeled from the treatment room by
two attendants.. Chet held up his good arm above the gurney, calling for
a halt.  Dixie was nearby at the desk, working steadily.

"Dix." Chet asked. "Heard anything from the guys?"

McCall shook her head. "Not for an hour or so." she replied. "They're
keeping the radio on. I'll check if you'd like.." she offered.

Chet gripped the erected railing bar on his bed with his left hand. 
"Would you?"

Dixie nodded and crossed to the open base station at his feet.
"Rampart Base to Rescue 51." she hailed.

## 51, go ahead, Rampart.## came Johnny's voice over the sounds of sawing.

Dixie smiled. "I have a fireman here that would like to know how things are going."

-----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

In the kitchen, it was obvious much work had been done over the past few hours.
Gage cupped the biophone over his mouth as he answered her. "51, it's slow.
No luck so far. How is he?" Johnny asked, dropping formal on the air conduct.

##Coming along just fine, 51.## Dixie answered.

"10-4." said Gage. Then he smirked. "Tell him, it's because we gave him
the best of care." he jabbed a little louder so Chet would hear him over
the K-12.  His vocal volume over did itself when the buzzing noise cut off as it
completed its task.

Dixie started laughing. ##10-4, 51.##

Over the line, Johnny could hear Chet chattering, animatedly. All was well.
Gage shook his head in disbelief and in humor and he hung up the biophone. 
Then the weight of the job still ahead fell heavily back onto him. He rejoined Roy
who was probing the rubble in a new place with a Kennedy probe. "Anything?"

DeSoto shook his head, pulling off the earphones, looking like the mood that
had ruled him most of the day. Dejection colored him. "If they're in here, there's
one chance in a million they're still alive."

Johnny nodded, pursing his lips together in nonacceptance of the poor odds.
"Then we give them that chance." he said, beginning to work at his assigned
debris clearing area once more with renewed strength.

Roy studied Gage in full agreement, his expression reflecting affirmation.
He also dug in, pulling a large stack of debris from a wall. A clang of metal
greeted him and he jumped back in surprise when plaster fell away to reveal
the edge and latch of a large walk-in refrigeration box. 

"Johnny!" he shouted. 

Gage, dropping what he was doing, hurried over. His eyes got big fast when 
he realized the same thing Roy was thinking. He felt the door carefully. "Is it
possible they...?"

DeSoto started grinning. "One chance if there was any." he said.

Johnny nodded eagerly and turned to the others working nearby.
"Hey! We just found a new priority!" he shouted happily.

Hank and the gang from Station 51 looked up and began quickly moving
to the newly found door. Gage and DeSoto were already hard at work,
clearing the rest of it free, pulling debris away from it. Johnny reached for
the latch, hesitating, as the spectre of death and doubt suddenly flooded
forth.

Roy nodded at him, smiling in encouragement to go ahead. Gage threw his
shoulder into budging the handle. It wasn't enough. So DeSoto helped him.
Together, the two paramedics forced the door open and the entire crew moved
inside to gaze into the box. Marco Lopez flipped on a large flashlight.

Two females and two males were lying on the floor. They were exhausted, weak,
but they were moving... and alive. 

The gang reacted and crouched inside individually to start their rescue and
extrication. Collectively, they were gratified almost openly that the battle for
life against time, finally, had been won.

Gage and DeSoto began calling out found vitals to Stoker, who was note taking
near the still open to base biophone.

---------------------------------------------------------------------------------

DeSoto broke out of his reverie in the classroom as the tale he had been 
telling to his and Johnny's paramedic students concluded. "..and they were the 
last four to be found. We went home at ten o'clock the next morning." he smiled, 
rebuttoning up his white lab coat in front of the desk. 

One of the students lifted his chin. "...And found your house, a shambles. Like 
mine." he said empathetically.

Gage sucked down another gulp of cold coffee, spilling a little on his instructor's 
coat. A student tossed him an abdominal pad so he could avoid a stain. "Wasn't 
bad at all, I know." said Johnny, thanking the student with a look as he wiped his
lapel dry. "I helped him patch up the cracks." he said with amusement. 

The group chuckled and the reluctant student from earlier spoke up when the 
babble had died down. "Whatever happened to the doctor that gave you guys 
a hand?" he asked.

"Mike Williams?" Gage clarified. His eye was captured by the sight of a figure 
approaching their training trailer, just outside. "Well,..." Johnny said significantly. 
"He had his operation and..the result... you can see for yourself." he grinned 
as the trailer's door knob began to turn. "He'll be handling your next session." 
he chuckled as the whole class turned around to regard the new man who
was arriving.

The door opened and Doctor Mike Williams entered, carrying a handful of 
pass out material. It was more than obvious, that he wasn't blind at all. 

Johnny held out a hand, looking scholarly. "Gentlemen, I'd like to introduce
your next instructor, Doctor Mike Williams." he said.

The class broke out into applause that was smattered with a few cheers.
Williams looked up from his organizing with confusion enough, that it caused
him to move over to where Gage and DeSoto was standing. "What's this
all about?" he asked, puzzled.

DeSoto decided not to enlighten him. "They're glad you're here, doc." he
said simply. Johnny and he smiled at each other knowingly as the applause
went on long and loud as Williams looked about in polite confusion at
everybody around him.

Outside, the day turned absolutely beautiful... Especially in Roy and
Johnny's eyes. They both smiled when they saw the reluctant student off
in a corner by himself, already diving deeply into his paramedic books with
a solidly renewed conviction.


FIN

Episode Forty Five, Richter Six©  by Michael Donovan
Season Six, Emergency Theater Live

Mark VII Productions and Universal owns
all of Emergency!© and its Characters. 
© 2007. All rights reserved.
 
----------------------------------------------------------------------

 End Credits --  Episode Forty Five (Sixth Season)
                                      
                                           §§    Richter Six©- by Michael Donovan   §§


                        :)     This episode is dedicated to the sheer artistry of                  :)
                                the original writers of Emergency! Our thanks goes
                                to Michael Donovan who suffered during a writer's strike 
                        :)      and couldn't air Richter Six, as an episode, until now.          :)   

  
 
The Story Unfolds...

Season Six, Episode Forty Six
 
 §§   The Long Hours    §§
 
Debut Launch: June 1st, 2007. 

**************************************************
From: Mark Panitz <mrpanitz@yahoo.com>
Subject: A Day At The Pier 
Date: Wed May 30, 2007 7:28 pm 
 

It was a beautiful summer day. Roy and Gage were just coming on duty.

"What a beautiful day. Too bad we can’t go the beach." he said with
a smirk, throwing his clean set of shower towels into the back of his 
locker with a snap of his wrist. 

Roy regarded his partner ruefully. "Be careful. Your wish might
come true."

Just then, the tones beeped. Engine 51 and Squad 51 were called to 
respond to a relocation move to station 110 by the marina as standby.

“10-4, L.A." Captain Stanley replied. "KMA." he said, using that part of
the county's affirmation.

Johnny celebrated as he buttoned his shirt up the rest of the way as 
he followed Roy out to the vehicle bay. "Hey, I got my wish!"  Gage replied.

Roy just rolled his eyes as he opened up the squad's door.

---------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
Station 110 was out of service for the day, gone to the fire academy 
for training, so the gang made themselves quickly at home on the dock
as their official for-a-shift fill in.
 
They parked nearby and went out onto Station 110's pier to the main house
located there. They soon spied the station's fire boat under the eaves. Seeing 
the boat brought back some memories for the gang as they arranged how they 
needed to be configured gear and apparatus wise for future calls. 

Johnny instinctively shuddered at the sharp sea breezes ruffling his hair.

DeSoto, too, picked up his navy work jacket's collar.
"Man, do you remember the guy who drove off Pacific Avenue into the 
channel?" Roy muttered, eyeing up the dark ocean shifting beneath
their feet through the slates below as he rubbed his arms against the chill.

"Boy do I." said Gage. "I was soaking wet!" he said, grabbing a couple 
of medical boxes from the squad's gear stow to set in the middle of the 
dock garage with a stokes near where the boat was housed in its water 
channel. He did so in order to make room so they could pack their water 
rescue equipment better inside the squad for quicker access.

----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
Meanwhile, at Santa Monica Airport, an instructor and student pilot 
where practicing take offs and landings. They had made three successful
landings in what was known as the touch and go. On the last pass, as they
took off again, they flew into a flock of seagulls coming off the waves, and 
one got noisily ingested into their front end single prop engine.

In seconds, the feathery debris caused the engine to quit and the plane's 
occupants soon realized that they wouldn’t make it back over the airport. 

The instructor got on an emergency frequency on their radio. Fast.
 ##Mayday! Mayday! This is November 5622. We are going in!## he shouted 
at the control tower he knew was watching, as their plane crashed right off 
Santa Monica Pier, into the Pacific Ocean.

---------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
Soon, down the beach, the tones began to sing. ##Engine 51, Squad 51. 
Respond with Santa Monica Fire on automatic aid to Santa Monica Pier. 
Baywatch lifeguards and the Coast Guard are also responding.##

"Hey, that's on the sand beach." Roy yelled to the others. 

The gang responded to the busy tourist pier in minutes, in their trucks.

They met up with Baywatch lifeguards, staring down into the water off
to the north side, about half way down the recreational pier. 

Hank exited the Ward, putting on his turnout coat. "Do you know what we got?"
he asked them.

"Just now, a plane down.  A student and instructor." said a young, dark haired
lifeguard, putting on his life can float's elastic strap over his head and shoulder
rapidly. He pointed to where a trail of bubbles was fizzing at the surface of
the shallow sea. Underwater, they could see the outline of a crumpled Cessna
haphazardly sprawled on its back in the murk whenever the wave crests
receded into deep troughs.

-----------------------------------------------------------------------------

Photos:  None. 

**************************************************
From :  Cassidy Meyers <killashandrarey@hotmail.com> 
Sent :  Sunday, June 10, 2007 3:58 PM 
Subject :  Realm Of The Brave.. 

Stanley nodded, stepping up to the edge of the pier's railing, looking 
down. He could see a trail of air bubbles coming up from below. "Have 
you got people coming out?" he asked the guard.

"Plenty. One wave cruiser. And a Sea King MK6 off that carrier you 
can see out there. They were nearby on maneuvers. Navy Air Rescue 
says they'll be here in two."

"Why the navy?" asked Marco, tying off and throwing a rope 
down into the water far below as a reference point for themselves.
"Isn't that highly unusual for them to handle a coastline rescue?"

"The Coast Guard was typed up on another incident. And these guys
were the closest alternative. Don't worry. They're good." replied the lieutenant. 
"We'll do a pier jump from the end and work our way back. The water's
too shallow here. I've three more swimmers on the way." he said, pointing 
down the pier to where another cluster of swim suited life guards with ropes 
and torpedo cans were running towards them from the public beach towers 
nearest the pier.

"We're going with you." said Gage, taking off his helmet and peeling out
of his shoes. Beside him, Roy nodded, doing the same. "You're going
to need all the help you can get if they're spinally injured. We have extra
extrication gear."

"And stokes." Roy added.

"Okay. It's your call. But watch yourself. The current's are tricky around the 
pilings." advised the lifeguard.

Roy chuckled, remembering the police helicopter they had attended to off
the jetty located a quarter of a mile away from Santa Monica's pier last year. 
"We know." he chuckled, peeling out of his shoes. "Floats are valuable."
he joked, pointing to the buoys the lifeguards were holding as they climbed
up over the railing and stood on the edge to start timing the surf waves in 
preparation for their high jump.

Stanley reassured the lifeguard. "We'll have our own back up boat here in a 
few minutes. You won't have to watch us at all." he said. Then he lifted his HT. 
"Engine 51 to HT 51. E.T.A. ?" he asked over the sound of seabirds and the 
waves.

Chet Kelly's voice rang out over all their handy talkie's. ##Just rounding Point
Loma. I'll be there in four with the gear. Scuba's already laid out.##

"Good man." replied Cap. "Come even with the lifeguards' rescue boat. She's
due here shortly. Squad 51's going in."

##10-4.## said Chet, shouting to be heard over the roar of the motor of
Fireboat 110. ##I see your position clearly.## he said as he located the
two red specks that were the squad and engine parked on the pier, just past
the boardwalk cafes.

Cap looked at Marco and Stoker. "Rappel down there using ropes, and act
as stokes guides." he ordered.

"Right, Cap." they replied as they ran back to the engine to get their belts.

Looking up, Cap could just make out two white "V"s arrowing their way toward
the accident site on the breakers. One of them was yellow. ::That's Malibu One,
the Baywatch boat.:: he recognized. :: Well, for once, we've tied arrival times. 
So much the better for these victims. If they're still alive.:: he thought, 
punching down the antennae of his radio.

As the three lifeguards, Roy and Johnny lined up on the railing, Gage 
leaned over to his partner. "Feel like changing your mind?" he said, 
holding his arms out to balance himself in the sharp breeze roaring around 
them.

"What? And miss all this?" DeSoto grinned broadly. "Like you said, it's 
a beautiful day, junior. Just perfect for taking a swim." 

"All right." said Johnny, licking his lips as he counted the waves, looking 
for the deep cresting top of one. "Let's go."

"After you..." Roy said with the sweep of his hand. 

"Funny man.." Johnny said, making a face, still hesitating.

"I'm just.....being your spotter until you resurface again." Roy said, 
licking his own lips.

"Uh huh..." Gage mumbled sarcastically.

A triple impact on water sound decided Johnny before his reluctant 
nerves could. ::Those are the lifeguards, already jumping.:: he realized, 
crossing his arms across his chest protectively. Then he leaped out into 
open space as he put his bare stocking'd feet together. "Geronimo!" 
he yelled. And then he hit and went under the water. Roy splashed 
down a few seconds behind him once he saw Johnny's head was 
safely popped up once more in the rolling froth.

Cap winced, suddenly embarrassed in front of the lifeguard lieutenant, 
when he saw the man's eyebrows go up. "Sorry. He gets a little 
enthusiastic at times." he shrugged.

"Are you sure he's all paramedic once a victim's in his arms?"

"Absolutely. He's one of the best." Cap grinned, leaning over to watch 
Marco and Stoker's progress climbing down the wooden pilings and 
buttresses beneath them.

"I'll just take your word for it." the guard said, rubbing his eyes, doing 
the same.

-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Photo:  Lifeguards taking a leap off a pier, far away shot.

Photo:  Roy and Johnny in the water with a victim.

Photo:  The long stretch of the Santa Monica Pier, deck level.

Photo:  Palm trees showing the ocean and beach flockers.

Photo:  Cap and Stoker watching a scene below a rope tied engine.

Photo:  Marco, swiftly tying off ropes.

Photo:  A shallow water no diving warning sign on a pier boardwalk.

  
**************************************************
From: MM <monstermoof4me@comcast.net> 
Date: Thu Jun 21, 2007 12:15 pm 
Subject: A Friend In Need

Swimming strongly, Johnny followed the three lifeguards out toward the
wrecked plane. He could vaguely see the plane’s tail, not quite
submerged in the water.

As the lifeguards neared the downed plane, they could see two men in the
water. One of them was holding onto a piece of wreckage and struggling
to hold the second person’s head out of the water. Seeing help
approaching, the man called out, “Help! He’s hurt...I can’t hold him
much longer.”

The first lifeguard of the group swam up to the men and carefully took
hold of the injured man. As the others approached, he said, “I’ve got
him now, sir. You just hold tight and we’ll have you taken care of
momentarily.” He glanced back and was glad to see that Gage was only
about twenty feet away.

“I hope I didn’t hurt him.” the man panted. “I had to pull Mike out of
the plane. I know he took in at least a little seawater. We had to
submerge to get out. He said his back hurts and I could clearly see his
right arm is broken. I didn’t have any way to stop the bleeding.”

“Don’t worry. We’ll take good care of him.” the second lifeguard
reassured him. “It looks like you need a little help yourself, sir.” he
said, observing the bloody trail leaking from the man’s scalp. “The
paramedics are right behind us. We’ll get you both taken care of.”

Swimming up, Johnny began to assess the situation. He could hear Roy a
few feet behind him. Seeing the first victim was conscious and oriented,
he maneuvered himself around the two lifeguards supporting the second
victim. He paused a split second as shock filled him - the victim was
Dr. Mike Morton.

Gage quickly spurred himself back into action and began examining his
friend, speaking softly to him as he proceeded. “Doc? Can you tell me
what happened?”

“Johnny?” Mike managed to gasp out.

Overhearing Johnny’s question, the pilot sputtered angrily, “We crashed,
mister! That’s what happened. Isn’t it pretty obvious?”

Roy had just arrived on the scene and turned to the pilot, gently
explaining in his soft-spoken voice, “We know that, sir. My partner is
trying to find out what Dr. Morton remembers.” Treading water, he
glanced over at Johnny and Mike briefly while he spoke to the pilot; he
wanted to help Mike but knew his first priority had to be taking care of
*this* victim. Ignoring the burning in his own legs, he said, “You have
quite a bump on your head there, sir. Did you lose consciousness at all?”

---------------------------------------------------------------

Meanwhile, Chet had picked up 51's remaining crew, the lifeguard
lieutenant and the equipment. As they sped toward the scene of the plane
wreck, Captain Stanley said to the lieutenant, “My paramedics are two of
the county’s original paramedics. They’ve been trained since before the
program was officially off the ground. Gage can act a bit like a twit at
times but believe me, he and Roy are who I’d want tending me if I was
hurt.” He paused momentarily, briefly reminiscing, then added, “For that
matter they *did* treat me once when some power lines went down and I
got zapped by the current.”

---------------------------------------------------------------

“Johnny?” Mike Morton mumbled again. He tried to focus but was having a
difficult time doing so. He sputtered in surprise as a wave broke over
the group, and then began coughing as he weakly fought the supine
position the lifeguards held him in.

“Hold still, Doc, we've got you.” Johnny said, his voice reassuring as he
examined the intern as thoroughly as possible in the water. He grimly
noted the compound fracture of Mike’s right humerus and the two-inch
laceration on his head.

“My back...pain...Johnny.” Mike stuttered, his voice laced with fear.
He’d seen far too many cases where the victim had ended up paralyzed and
he found himself terrified that he, too, might end up that way.

“We’re going to have you out of here very quickly, Doc.” Johnny stated.
“Can you tell me what you remember happening?”

“Birds..those dratted gulls.” Mike moaned. “Then...we crashed. I think I
was out a couple minutes...Harold was leaning over me...seat belt
stuck...water coming in fast. My arm...couldn’t move it...my
back...hurts. I think I went out again...next thing I knew we were in
the water with Harold keeping me afloat.”

Seeing the boat approaching in the distance, Johnny said, “We’ve got
more help coming, Mike. Once they get here with our gear we’ll get you
on your way to Rampart. Hang in there, okay?” Hearing the rattling in
Morton’s chest, Johnny felt concerned about the amount of water his
friend might have taken in. He briefly made eye contact with Roy,
silently letting his partner know their friend appeared to be in serious
condition.

Shivering uncontrollably, the intern mused, “Why’d I enter that darn
radio contest? I should...have just stuck to medicine. I think I’m going
to...forget about flying a pl....” Morton broke off as a fresh wave of
pain washed over him. He looked at Johnny in desperation as he felt
himself slipping away.

Johnny watched helplessly as Mike’s eyes rolled back in his head. “He’s
out.” he said to the lifeguards who were helping support the doctor. He
was grateful to see the fireboat approaching.

Chet slowed the boat as they approached, coming towards the scene as
carefully as possible.

“I need a c-collar and backboard.” Johnny called out as soon as the boat
had stopped. “I’ve also got to get his arm splinted. “Compound fracture
of his right humerus. We’re going to need a chopper, Cap.”

“You got it, pal.” Captain Stanley said as he pulled out his HT. “L.A.,
this is Engine 51. Please respond a chopper to our location.” After
receiving L.A.’s acknowledgment, he leaned over to assist in the rescue.
“Holy cow! Is that Dr. Morton?”

“Yeah, I’m afraid so.” Johnny answered solemnly.

--------------------------------------------------------------------------- 

While the others were assisting with Dr. Morton, the third lifeguard
crawled into the boat and he and Mike Stoker helped Harold in, too.
Roy quickly followed, hoping that he would be able to turn their
man’s care over to one of his crewmates and be free to help with Mike’s
care. Unfortunately, as Harold tried to put his weight onto his left
foot it gave out, sending him crashing to the floor. Stoker’s quick
reflexes saved the man from hitting his head on the side of the boat,
but Harold’s lower leg lay twisted at an odd angle, clearly broken. Roy
dismissed all thoughts of leaving this victim as he promptly knelt by
the man’s side and began his exam.

-----------------------------------------------------------------

With the lifeguards' help, Johnny got the still unconscious intern
strapped to the backboard and splinted his arm. A stokes was lowered and
they lifted Mike into it. Then many hands reached out and carefully
lifted him into the boat. Johnny scrambled up the boat’s ladder and
quickly set about taking his patient’s vitals.

----------------------------------------------------------------

##Rampart, this is Squad 51.##

Head Nurse Dixie McCall and Dr. Kelly Brackett turned from the chart
they were looking over and stepped into the hospital’s base station.

##Rampart , this is Squad 5-1. How do you read?## Johnny’s voice announced.

“Squad 51, this is Rampart. We read you loud and clear.” Dixie answered.
She picked up a notepad ready to write the details of the case on the
run sheet.

##Rampart, we have two male victims from a small plane that crashed into
the bay. Victim one, approximate age twenty-five, was being supported in
the water on our arrival. He was conscious and talking at first but has
since lost consciousness. Victim has a palpable fracture of his
vertebrae at T5/T6, a compound fracture of his right humerus, as well as
a visible laceration on his forehead approximately two-inches long.
We’ve extracted victim from the water and are using full spinal
precautions. His arm has been immobilized. Vital signs: blood pressure
130/85, pulse 70, respirations 20 and somewhat labored. Patient appears
to have ingested some seawater and lungs have definite rales. He's
on O2. Stand by for details on victim two.##

“Squad 51, victim one, start an IV, D5W t.k.o. and transport as soon as
possible.” Dr. Brackett advised.”

##10-4 Rampart, IV, D5W t.k.o. Also, Rampart, please be advised that
victim number one is Dr. Morton.##

As Johnny revealed this last bit of information, Dixie gave an audible
gasp. Dr. Brackett grimaced. He reached out and squeezed Dixie’s
shoulder as he said,“He’s stable for now, Dix. You know we’ll do
everything we can.”

“I know, Kel.” Dixie responded. “What on earth was he doing on that
plane?” she wondered out loud.

“I think I remember him commenting about winning some contest on the
radio that gave him a dozen flying lessons.”


---------------------------------------------------------------------

Twenty minutes later, Dr. Brackett, Dr. Early and Dixie were on the
rooftop meeting the helicopter that brought Mike and Johnny in. The
other victim, Harold, was now stable and would be arriving with Roy in
an ambulance shortly.

A soggy Johnny walked alongside the gurney as he gave an update on
Mike’s condition. “He’s been in and out of consciousness several times.
When he’s awake he seems oriented to time and place, although he’s not
quite with it, so to speak.”

Once in the treatment room the two doctors made quick work of examining
Mike. X-ray arrived almost immediately and soon the two Rampart doctors
were looking at Mike’s x-rays.

“It looks like Mike has a vertebral compression fracture, Joe,” Kel said
grimly, his lip twitching as it often did when he was worried.

“I believe surgery will be needed - on his back as well as his arm.” Joe
stated.

“Unfortunately, I concur.” Kel then turned to Dixie and requested, “Dix
please call the O.R. and tell them we need to bring Mike up STAT.”

“Right away, Kel. Orthopedics just called. Dr. Johnston is on his way.”
Dixie said as she picked up the phone.

Kel and Joe turned their attention back to Mike. Once again conscious,
he asked through chattering teeth, “Kel, how bad is my back? Level with
me please.”

Placing his arm gently on his colleague's good arm, Kel looked him in
the eyes and spoke reassuringly, saying.....

-------------------------------------------------------------

Photos:  None.

********************************************************
From: Rampartbase <rampartbase@yahoo.com>
Date:  Thu Jun 21, 2007 10:17 pm 
Subject: Completion

"We'll know more after we get an ortho to look at
these x-rays." Kel replied. 

He had Dixie call the surgeon to meet them upstairs.

------------------------------------------------------------------

Photos:  None.

------------------------------------------------------------------
From: "patti keiper" <pattik1@hotmail.com> 
Date: Thu Jun 28, 2007 5:53 pm 
Subject: All for the sake of money... 

Roy DeSoto and Johnny Gage got back from the hospital as soon as they could.
They tried not to think about Dr. Morton's injury.  The plane crash had been serious, 
and both of them knew the outcome didn't look good for the future.

"Hey, Roy."  whispered Johnny, as he concentrated on wiping down the chrome of the
rescue squad.  "What you think his chances of developing paralysis are?"

"I don't know. I guess that all depends on what they find in the x-rays."  Roy shrugged.

"I guess you're right."  said Johnny.  "I just wish I could've been there before he 
went into surgery.  I wanted to tell them a few things more. And to, you know, offer him a 
word of encouragement or two." said Gage as he rubbed both of his red eyes 
and sighed deeply.

Desoto looked up and watched the cars whiz by down the avenue through the 
open garage door. He kept imagining that there was something that they could 
have handled better during the rescue, but each time, Dr. Brackett's 
reassurances that he still remembered, refuted any blame for that.
Captain Stanley came out of his office with some paperwork and looked 
at both of them. "I know you guys are still down about this, but dinner's almost ready."

Gage startled, whirling on his feet. "Oh, okay. We'll be right in." Johnny put his 
hands in his rear pockets and slowly headed for the kitchen.  "Uh,...Roy, did 
you hear that?"

DeSoto still scrubbed the top rack chrome with a vengeance bordering on 
frustration.  He didn't look up.

"Roy, chow's on."  Johnny said again, rapping on the side of the squad a little 
louder.

DeSoto blinked a few times.  "Lunch already?"  Still numb, DeSoto slowly 
followed in his partner's footsteps.:: Why can't I get this rescue out of my 
mind?:: he thought.:: It's not like Mike was dying or anything.:: he reasoned.  
Then another part of himself gave the answer.:: It's because you know him, 
stupid.::

The rest of the gang set the table quietly. Most of them had already showered 
off the sea salt itching their skin.  Marco saw the expression on the paramedics' 
faces and pushed the plate of chicken in front of them first.  "Dig in, fellas. I made 
plenty."  he said with a forced cheerfulness.

Both Roy and Johnny nodded, and took their share reluctantly.

Captain Stanley slammed down his fork, with a bang. "Well, is he going to get 
better, or isn't he?"

Both Johnny and Roy flinched.  "Dr. Brackett seems to think that he's going to 
be okay."  Johnny replied. "W-We know that he's in surgery, and that his vital signs 
were stable when we left him."

"Well then, why the long faces?"  Chet Kelly asked.  

Gage picked at his food.  "It's just really hard, you know, when you know your 
victim."

"That's exactly it."  Roy emphasized as he played restlessly with his napkin on 
the table.

Marco Lopez tried to lighten their moods by throwing a piece of chicken at Henry.  
"Here you go, boy." When the brown and white hound dog caught it, he celebrated.  
"Hey, hey!"  He looked up with a smile but found that he hadn't cheered up anybody, 
including himself.

Mike Stoker took a long swallow of his milk, and then he took a big breath.  "I don't 
know about any of you but as soon as soon as we're done eating, I'm going to 
give Dixie a call right back."

Hank Stanley jumped on the suggestion. "Now that sounds like a plan of action, 
the best one I've heard all day."

"I guess so." whispered Johnny, slowly buttering the potatoes on his plate with 
a knife.

Over on the couch, Henry the dog whined.  He didn't know what was going on, 
but something wasn't right with his human gang, and he wasn't about to be 
quiet about it. Yawning nervously, he jumped down and made a beeline for 
Roy and Johnny's legs. Snuffling loudly, he began to rub his snout back and 
forth across both their pairs of shoes.

It finally worked. A smile cracked out of both of them. The two paramedics 
began to relax. Johnny managed to snatch up a chicken leg, and he bit 
into it with an appetite.  

Stoker smiled.  "Guess you did all right with my recipe, Marco. It's not going to 
waste." he quipped.

Roy finally had to laugh at that, and he almost choked.  Johnny Gage shot up 
out of his chair.

"I'm fine!  I'm fine!"  Roy told him, coughing up some food.  "Henry just bumped 
me."

"Are you sure?"  Gage asked, still not believing him.

Roy nodded, still sputtering.

Captain Stanley eyeballed them both with a close look.  "Do I have to tell you 
pipe down?"

"No,.." chuckled Chet.  "He needs to pipe up."

The joke was lost on Cap. He just kept shoveling in his dinner like there was no 
tomorrow.  

"Yeah, well, anyways, there I was with my arms full of this guy's stretcher, right?" 
Chet Kelly said eagerly. "And the waves kept coming, and coming.  I thought 
we were never gonna get out of there. But you guys did a swell job and 
everybody was okay, and that's the important thing, so quit moping. Right, Henry?"

Henry barked once with emphasis, as if agreeing with him.

Captain Stanley swallowed his last mouthful and quickly got up and left the table.
He rushed over to the TV set and turned on the news. Rampart Hospital was the 
subject matter.  And that took the entire gang by surprise.

Gage almost spit out the meat in his mouth.  "What's going on over there now?"
he cried indignantly.  "Another brushfire?"

Cap was actually stunned.  "I haven't the foggiest clue. But I promise you I'll 
find out in seconds."

The gang was riveted by the scene showing on the TV set. A milling crowd 
surrounded the emergency entrance, with picketing signs.  They could just 
make out some chanting.  ## No more work! Too little pay! No more work!  
Too little pay!## The sight brought Roy and Johnny to their feet.

"Just what the h@ll is going on?!" Gage demanded chipmunk cheeked.

Roy's mouth flopped open.  "Looks like a surgeon's strike or--"

Johnny Gage barged ahead of all of them as they clustered around the TV 
set.  As they got closer, it was clear that the uniforms people were wearing, 
were surgical blue, and not nursing white.

The phone on the wall started to ring urgently and Roy DeSoto was the closest 
one to pick it up. It was Dixie. ##Roy, have you heard yet? They're 
med-evacuating everybody who's scheduled for an operation today to 
other hospitals. It looks like their AMA union negotiations fell through.##

"My G@d. Is that happening to Mike Morton?"

##Yes. He was one of the first ones to go.  He's on the way to Mercy right now.##

Desoto frowned.  "Is there anything we can do?"

Dixie sighed angrily in his ear.  ##Don't I wish you could! But even Dr. 
Brackett's hands are tied. The orthopedic surgeon he had all set for Mike, was 
forced to stop scrubbing up by an angry mob.##

"Um, okay, geez, this is awful. Could you keep us posted with how he's 
doing?" DeSoto asked.

##I sure will, Roy. Gotta go. Bye.##

"Goodbye." Roy hung up the phone in total shock.  He rejoined the others 
and sat down in his chair numbly.

"What was that all about?" Kelly asked.

"I'm afraid it isn't good news."  DeSoto told them.

Gage sat up a little straighter from where he was slumped.  "Is it Dr. Morton?"

"No.  I mean, yeah. Uh, sort of. You see, his surgeon's debunked. Apparently, 
there's a doctor's strike going on that's just begun. That was Dixie just now, 
filling us in on all the nitty-gritty." Roy sighed in frustration. 

"Let's just hope we can-" Gage began.

The tones went off. It was a call for the entire Station 51. Disturbed beyond 
words once again, the gang made for the trucks. L.A. County Dispatch 
sounded out a big one. 

A minute later, they were ready, and on the move with lights and sirens blaring.

-----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------  

Photo: An ambulance rushing down the street.

Photo: Dixie and Brackett in the nurses' lounge.

Photo: Engine 51 leaving the station.  

Photo:  Cap and Marco Lopez not looking happy.

***************************************************
From :  patti keiper <pattik1@hotmail.com> 
Sent :  Thursday, July 5, 2007 8:22 AM 
Subject :  Like Well Oiled Machinery.. 

 
Station 51 was a half-mile away from the scene, when they spotted the smoke plume.

"That's big enough to be a fully involved house." muttered Cap, as they drew nearer.

"You're probably right, Cap."  said Kelly. "That's the new housing development at the edge
 of town."

Mike Stoker drove the Ward LaFrance swiftly down the boulevard towards their destination.
Engine 51's sirens ground down to a halt as they pulled up in front of the yard. It looked like
an explosion had just occurred. A woman wearing a skirt was lying on her back near a running 
garden hose. She lay amid blown debris, and she was bleeding from a cut on her forehead.

"Check her first." ordered Cap, as he opened the door of the engine and got out. Then 
he thumbed the mic on the radio.  "L.A., Station 51 is on scene. We have a fully involved 
two-story wooden structure. Notify the gas company and electrical utilities to shut down 
service at the corner of 17th and Maple. L.A., respond a second alarm to our location."

##10-4, Engine 51.##  New SCU tones began to fill the air as additional assistance was 
summoned. ##Truck 127, Engine 18. Respond with Station 51....##

Johnny Gage and Roy DeSoto pulled on their turnout coats rapidly. Marco Lopez 
snatched their medical gear out of the squad as the two of them knelt on the grass 
next to the fallen woman. They kicked the running garden hose water stream, away 
from her face.

Roy reached for her carotid.  "She's alive." Leaning over, he peeled back one of her 
eyelids. "Looks like a head injury only.  She doesn't have any obvious burns anywhere."

Nearby, Cap began to issue orders. "Marco, Kelly! Get out two inch and a halves 
and start tackling the north and east exposures from upwind."

"Right, Cap." they replied.

"How is she breathing?"  asked Johnny, opening up the biophone.

"Fair."  replied Roy as he opened her airway a little wider with a modified jaw thrust.

"I'll get the 02." said Stoker.

Weak coughing got Roy's attention. The young woman in his hands was waking up.
"Easy.  Easy. I got you. Don't try to move around too much, you've been in a fire."

"Oh, *gasp* I-I tried to-... but I- *cough* They- *choke*" blinked the woman groggily.

Johnny scrambled over to her side with the resuscitator mask. "Here, breathe some 
of this in. It'll help you wake up a little faster. How's your head?"

The woman didn't reply, and she started shivering. Mike Stoker began to cover her 
up with a shock sheet. Her limbs began to twitch, and she groaned, lapsing half 
unconscious again.

Roy gripped the sides of her face, making sure to keep her neck still, in the same 
position he had found her in. "Hey, can you hear me? Open your eyes!" he shouted 
loudly.

The woman only choked weakily. Johnny began to ventilate her when she didn't 
breathe in adequately to his liking when she fell still again.

"I got a bad feeling about all this." said Johnny as he inserted a short oral into her mouth.
"How much do you want to bet that somebody's still inside the house? You can let
go. I got her." he said, repositioning the demand valve over her nose and mouth firmly.

Roy looked up from where they were working.  "Hey, Cap! We think she's not alone!" 
shouted DeSoto as he pulled out a stethoscope from the I.V. box.

From the street, Hank looked back and nodded. "Chet, drop your line and get into scba.
Truck 127 can take over on that side as soon as they get set up!" he said as he heard 
sirens approaching. "Search the house!"

Chet Kelly ran for the engine and the storage compartment. He also grabbed out a 
safety line. He got into his air bottle and tied the end of the rope over his waist belt. 
Captain Stanley left the street and ran with him to the open door of the hot, rapidly 
burning house.

"Make it fast."  Stanley told him. "I don't know how much longer that roof will hold."

Kelly smiled through his mask.  "Time for another race? I'm up for it today."

"I got your back. Go ahead. And keep your HT on at all times." Captain Stanley 
patted Chet on the shoulder and told him he was set to enter. Cap picked up 
Kelly's line and wrapped it around his gloved wrist. 

"Whatever you do, don't let go, Cap. Keep feeling for my tug." Chet said as 
he disappeared into the smoke.

------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------ 

Inside the house, flames and burning wood crackled all around him. Chet 
was reduced to feeling his way around on top of the steaming, incinerating 
carpeting crawling on his hands and knees.  He began shouting.  "Hey, can 
anybody hear me?!"

The heat was intense. Instinctively, Chet chose the first hallway to the 
right. Kelly shouldered his way through the next door, using the weight 
of his bottle as a battering ram. Immediately, he heard the cry of an infant. 
And the groan of an older male, to his left, inside the bedroom.

"Get us out!  Help us! Please. *cough* *cough*" croaked a grandfather. 
In his arms was a wet blanket wrapped around a tiny baby boy. "He's 
hardly moving anymore."  

Kelly reached for him. "Can you follow me out?" he said as he set his mask 
over the baby's face.

"I-I think so." he replied blinking sharply in the smoke.

"Who else is home?!" Chet demanded, gripping his arm.

But the older man didn't answer him, deafened as he was by the 
din of the flames.

"Okay, stick close behind me. We're going out the front door!" he promised 
him.  "If you get lost, just follow the rope until I come back for ya." Breathing 
heavily, Chet brought his HT up to his face. "HT 51 to Engine 51. I found 
two victims. We're on our way out the front door now!"

##Any others?## asked Cap.

"I'm not absolutely positive. An adult male senior's too shaken up to answer 
much." replied Chet as he curled protectively around the baby.

##Make tracks then. I've got Mike waiting outside with plenty of oxygen.
Hurry it up a little. ##

Chet barely made the front door when a sudden collapse nearly pinned him on
the porch. Captain Stanley had to literally pull him clear by the arms.

"Next time, hurry when I tell ya to hurry." Hank grumbled at him.

"Thought I was hurrying. Maybe it's just a faster fire." he quipped.

Hank had to grin as he helped his man back onto his feet. 

---------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
DeSoto looked up after he had fastened the last strap on the young woman's
C-collar. She was awake now, and crying. He saw a commotion at the front door
as Chet and Stoker met each other and traded off a baby and an old man to
other firefighters. "Johnny, it looks like we're getting an infant, too."

Gage's head snapped up from where he was starting an I.V on the girl. "Wha- Uh,
okay. This is done. Brackett wants her head elevated if she's not feeling any 
pain past that forehead."

Roy nodded, quickly finishing his notes. "I'll relay their vitals sets to Rampart
as soon as we get them. Cap, could you watch her for a minute?" he asked 
127's head fireman.

"Sure." he replied, and he moved to squat near the blanketed girl as he
supervised his men under a watchful eye.

Johnny rose to his feet and intercepted the soot covered grandfather. He
was walking well, but smoke had made him hoarse and unable to talk. Gage
sat him down, and got him into an oxygen mask. "You okay?" he asked him.
The silver haired man nodded gratefully, leaning up against a tree.
"All right. If you get dizzy, just let that fireman right there know, and he'll
help you lie down onto the ground before you faint." he said, pointing
to Marco, who knelt behind the old man to monitor his condition.

The grandfather was fidgety, his eyes alarmed, and the firm grip that he
had on his crying grandson's blanket, tightened a bit when he saw
the woman lying on the ground.

Roy smiled, seeing a family resemblance. "Hey, don't worry about your 
daughter, she's doing fine now. It sure looks like she did everything she 
could to get the two of you out of the house until we got here." he told him. 

The old man started weeping when a neighbor rushed up and held him 
close in comfort. DeSoto gave her a gauze pad to tend to his minor scrapes 
and spark burns.

"Relax, sir. You can keep holding the little guy if you'd like." DeSoto told the
grandfather. "Here, take this, and hold it over his face while I check him 
out.  Mister? Really, he's okay. His color and reactions are sittin' real good." 
DeSoto said as he showed the older man how to hold the tiny pediatric 
oxygen mask in his gnarled fingers for the fussy baby to use.

"M-Marsh-a..?" the old man rasped, coughing.

"Is that your daughter's name?" Roy clarified, pointing to the younger 
lady.

The grandfather nodded, trying not to jostle the baby as Roy gently 
pulled off the infant's clothes to look for hidden injuries. He found a word
embroidered on his pajamas. "Is this Joshua?"

Again, the nod.

"He's big for his age." DeSoto said. "What is he, about three months?"

Panting, the grandfather held up two fingers, closing his eyes in relief
as the oxygen he was on started working to alleviate his shortness
of breath.

"Okay, I'm going to take his blood pressure. Then I'll get yours
right afterwards. Keep resting a bit. Are you feeling any chest pain
at all? Any other discomfort?" Roy probed.

The tired man shook his head lightly as he accepted the grip Marco gave 
one of his hands when Lopez started taking his pulse.

"Okay." DeSoto replied, beginning his secondary survey on Joshua.
The baby's eyes tracked his easily and he made a disgusted face when 
Roy wiped away a ball of mucous from his nose with a gauze pad. He
let DeSoto know about how angry he was with a loud squawl. "I'm sorry.. 
Wow, a great pair of lungs. I promise I won't do that again." he teased 
the grandfather.

Nearby, Marsha was slowly seated upright with Johnny's help. "H- How's my 
son doing? And Pa?.. T-They were both in there a long time." she gasped.

"They're better. Now, how much do YOU remember happening? We 
found you unconscious, lying in the front yard." Johnny told her.

The woman flinched when Gage started wrapping the gaping wound on
her head. "Everything. Uh, that is, until right up to when the explosion happened. 
Oh, Pa, I'm so sorry. I knew I should have had that furnace fixed the minute it
started having trouble lighting up. Dan's gonna kill me." she said, trying
to see around the collar she was wearing.

Gage smiled at the interchange and the mention of an irate husband.
"Was it just the three of you at home?" he asked, getting Cap's glancing 
hint to double check that fact at once. "Nobody else is still inside that fire, 
right?"

"Yeah... yeah. No one else. My husband's at work." Marsha said, then she 
watched as the roof of the house caved in slowly, getting eaten by tall 
flames. "Oh, no. And we just built that house two years ago." she winced, 
more at the collar than at the headache that was just beginning. "This, is 
gonna cost us... a fortune.." she puffed in dismay, tearing up again. "Oh, my
eyes. I can't see very well."

"Is your vision being effected?" Gage asked her.

"No, I...It's I just got soot in them, that's all."

Roy smiled."We'll take care of that and rinse them out for you. Won't
take long."

"All right." Marsha said. "But I'm still not happy." she frowned.

"Insurance is great nowadays. I wouldn't worry about it." Kelly said,
taking off his scba gear. He jogged off to grab a hose behind a team from
127 to help them out with their frontal attack. 

Stanley turned away, satisfied. He lifted his radio. "L.A., This is Engine 51. 
All units out one hour. Respond an ambulance to this address, Code 3.
And please send a second for our fire as a stand by."

##Engine 51.*Spap*##

DeSoto got on the biophone. "Rampart, this is Rescue 5-1. How do you 
read?"

##Reading you loud and clear, 51. Has your female patient's status 
changed?##

"That's affirmative, Rampart. Conscious, alert and oriented time three. We
also have two new victims, rescued from a burning house. Victim Two, an 
infant male aged two months, suffering from mild to moderate smoke inhalation. 
Pulse is 140, respirations are 30, emotionally distressed. No burns are evident. 
BP is 92 over 50. Victim Three is a male, in his mid to upper sixties, conscious but 
mildly dyspneic, with signs of vocal hoarseness from exposure to wood smoke. 
He has numerous minor cuts and abrasions about the face and neck. Vital signs 
are: BP is 152/110, respirations are 20, pulse is 122. Both victims are on 15 liters 
of O2." reported DeSoto. 

##10-4. On Victim Two, if he's showing signs of dehydration, go ahead and inject
a normal saline bolus of 20cc I.V., monitor him closely for signs of increasing 
breathing difficulty. On Victim Three, I want an EKG strip, Lead 2, that's strictly 
precautionary given his apparent age and current condition. Start the adult male 
on an I.V. D5W, TKO and continue to monitor his vital signs in transit. Get a 
full medical history on all three. What's your update on Victim Number One?##

Johnny took the phone from Roy. "Rampart, she's talking coherently and not
complaining of any neck or back pain from her fall to the ground after getting
knocked out by that flying debris. Shall we keep her in the collar?"

##That's affirmative, 51. We need to x-ray her first to rule out any possible cervical 
spinal injury that might be associated with her recent concussion symptoms. 
If she refuses a spine board when the time comes, that's her choice. Document 
everything she decides from here on out concerning any further medical care, in 
detail.## said Kel.

"10-4. Documentation, Victim One. 20 cc bolus N.S. for Victim Two on signs of 
dehydration, Victim Three, send a strip and an I.V. D5W, TKO. This is Lead 2, 
Rampart.." said Gage, adjusting a dial on the biophone after Roy completed 
setting up the connections. "Reading.. mild sinus tachycardia with minor ST 
segment elevation." he reported. 

##I concur, 51. No gross ectopi in evidence. That's what I was looking for. Okay, 
go ahead and transport, Code 3, for all.  What's your approximate time of arrival?##

"Six to eight minutes, Rampart." Johnny told him. "Once they're loaded up."

##Sounds good. We'll be waiting with a pediatrician and a respiratory specialist 
for the baby.##

"10-4, doc. Squad 51, out." said Gage, hanging up the phone. "Okay, let's go."
he told the others surrounding him.

A piercing whistling got everybody's attention. It was Cap, grinning from ear to ear.
"Hey, look! At least somebody's having fun here today!" he shouted, pointing.

Roy, Johnny and their patients spied a straying neighbor dog, who was dead set on 
conquering the fallen garden hose's water stream, completely obvious to anything else.

Kelly crowed. "Good boy, good dog.. Bite the water. Come on, go get it!" he encouraged
the ferociously playing canine. "Man, Cap, we oughta recruit him. He's quite the fire 
dog already." Chet quipped, giggling like a banshee. "Look at him go!"

His mood, was infectious and the rest of the afternoon's cleanup, seemed like nothing 
at all, afterwards.

-----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Photo: Woman down by a hose outside.

Photo:  Cap, intent by the engine.

Photo:   A burning house in daylight.

Photo:   Marco and Johnny working on a victim in air bottles.

Photo:   Cap and Chet attacking a porch fire in scba.

*Animated Gif* :   A burning room in darkness.

Photo:  Girl with a cut being tended.

Photo:  An EKG strip, showing V-tach.

Photo:  A baby receiving oxygen in a mother's lap.

Photo:   A woman caring for a tired, injured old man.

Photo:   Roy in full turnout, on the biophone. 

**************************************************
From: "patti keiper" <pattik1@hotmail.com> 
Date: Thu Jul 5, 2007 6:31 pm 
Subject: Water Versus Salt.. 

It was early evening.

Joe Early silently met with Kel Brackett at Dixie's desk and 
together, they mutually nodded at each other without speaking
to meet inside Kel's office on a consultation. A very special one.

Kel wasted no time in grabbing the patient files that Joe
handed to him that he himself had just retrieved from the 
heliopad paramedics who had been returning Mike Morton 
from his concluded surgical procedures at Mercy General back to
Rampart's own ICU unit.

Kel was impatient. "What did they find on his arrival?"

Joe read an entry on the top file.
"He was doing fine then, Kel. His saturation while on 
supplemental oxygen and continuous positive airway 
pressure was 98%. Eyes normal.  Pupils equal and 
reactive.  Neck supple.  Heart regular.  His lungs had 
spontaneous respirations with the same bilateral wheezing 
and rales that we had noted earlier. A good air exchange.  
His abdomen still presented as benign. And all of his extremities, 
even with that humerus fracture, had good pulses and perfusion.
He came through the surgical repairs with flying colors."

Brackett's face was iron. "Well, then, what the h@ll happened?" he 
demanded.

Joe's face was as tortured as Kel's. "Kel, your guess is as good
as mine. According to these records, Mike's cardiac and pulse oximetry 
monitors were placed. A Foley catheter and nasogastric tube were placed.  
200cc of fluid was evacuated from Mike's stomach.  His initial 
arterial blood gasses were:  pH 7.11, pCO2 27, pO2 140, bicarb 9.  
Electrolytes were: Na 125, K 4.0, Cl 92, bicarb 11. His glucose 
wasn't grossly abnormal at 245, considering the stress he was under. 
His white blood cell count was 29,500 with 5% segs, 1% bands, 92% 
lymphs. Again, a directly related outcome brought on by the stress of the 
rescue. But most conclusively, he wasn't bleeding out like we all thought. 
His Hgb was rock solid at 12.3, Hct 35.8, and his platelets were a healthy 
394,000..."

"Joe! Somebody went wrong somewhere on spotting this and I want to
find out exactly who was responsible and how this clearly developing 
adverse condition was missed!" Brackett roared.

A knocking at the door interrupted them.

Startled, Joe quietly shut Dr. Morton's files and placed an opened newspaper
over the top of the stack so the name wasn't visible.

It was Dixie. She smiled falsely, knowing that she had barged in on
something else very serious. "It's Roy and Johnny, fresh off another fire.
They're asking about Dr. Morton. So,..will you tell them? Or shall I?" Her
eyes flashed additional warning.

That sobered Joe and Kel right away. Brackett's face twitched. "We'll
both see them, ourselves. They played a very active part, Dix." he said softly, 
leaving McCall alone with the files. "I don't want them to have to learn about Mike's
current status on their own. It wouldn't be right. Somebody would tell them 
eventually, and they'd do it in the worst way possible. It's better if Joe and I break
the news first."

"Want me to come?" asked McCall gently, fingering the edge of the hidden files.

"It's your call." Brackett said, lightly rubbing her arm to comfort her out of tears.
"I won't force you to do anything that you don't want to do."

Dixie said nothing directly, but she went out with the two doctors, leaving the 
office door to swing soundly shut.

-----------------------------------------------------------------------------------

"Hiya, docs.. Dixie..." beamed Johnny. "Man, did we kill two birds
with one stone. A family saved in the afternoon, and a whole
apartment complex this evening. We're batting a thousand!"

Roy's smile was equally joyful. "Yeah, and in the end, nobody got
hurt."

The two paramedics laughed openly and long, until they saw the
fallen expression on Dixie's face and the glimmer of unshed tears.

The two grins on DeSoto and Gage's faces wiped off suddenly,
sharply, and the change almost injured the two doctors standing on
either side of Dixie. 

Finally, Johnny spoke into the silence, "What..?
Uh, is this about Dr. Morton? Dixie, why are you so upset?"

Roy broke in, nervously. "I mean, he is all right, isn't he? The surgery
at Mercy was successful?"

Quickly, the doctors nodded their heads in the positive. "The surgery
went fine. Uh, just fine." said Brackett.

Roy was firm, even though his face was blank. "Well then, why the 
long faces? If there's anything that you gotta say, why don't you just 
come out and say it? We're both big boys nowadays playing around 
with fire trucks and all." he tried to joke. "If it's serious, we won't--"

"It IS Mike." said Dixie. "I'm afraid he's the one in seven, Roy."

Gage voice was muted, almost flat. "W-What exactly do you mean 
by that statistic. It could mean just about anything." he flared, getting 
angry.

Dixie sat down on her desk stool. And Brackett and Joe leaned over
the counter top. "Keep your voice down, and I'll tell you. Everything."
Kel said, defending her.

Roy pushed away the coffee cup that suddenly didn't taste good to him
any more. Johnny did the same, whirling, until his back was to Kel and 
Joe as he listened. He cocked the actively chattering HT onto a 
shoulder for some moral support and he bowed his head when Dr. 
Brackett began speaking.

"When he was driven to Mercy, Mike was treated with sodium bicarbonate 
for his metabolic acidosis, aerosolized albuterol for that wheezing you 
two found, and... furosemide for newly developing pulmonary edema."

"Secondary drowning?" Johnny quailed, turning back around. He set 
both hands on the countertop to steady himself.

Joe hung his head and played with the silver rings on his fingers. "The 
latest CXR shows small patchy basilar pulmonary infiltrates and he's 
deteriorating rapidly as his PE and small airway dysfunction, worsens. 
If we can't halt the atelectasis and loss of surfactant in his lung tissues, 
there may be an even worse pulmonary inflammatory response 24-48 
hours after the initial insult." Early said sadly. 

Gage's mouth flopped open. "But we-- we got to him fast, doc. Very fast. 
H- He never quit breathing on us." he insisted.

Roy thought hard on the prospects. "Sometimes, it only takes a 
mouthful, Johnny." he said, his eyes stinging. His eyes fell on Dixie, who 
stood ram rock still. She was trembling. "What else aren't you telling us?" 
he asked in a whisper.

Brackett finally got mad, a silent, raging, barely reined in fury at the facts.  
"Hypernatremia may occur if enough salt water has been swallowed."

Roy angled his chin. "What's that? I-I've never even heard of that before. 
Is it something we might see on the str--?"

"No, Roy. Never on the street. Only later in saline near-drownings that have 
had the luck of reaching the hospital in time, though a fat lot of luck that'll 
prove to be." Brackett growled. "This condition can cause cerebral 
edema, renal failure, infection, disturbance of electrolytes, acid/base 
imbalance and decreasing lung function. Treatment is mainly aimed 
at preventing cardiac arrest."

Gage was calm now, listening close. "What do you mean...cardiac arrest?
Morton's EKG was fine!"

Brackett crumbled and couldn't talk, instead, he busied himself with 
straightening up patient slates that didn't need to be straightened. 

Joe did the talking. "In salt-water drowning, aspirated water is saltier 
than body fluids. So water leaves the blood and enters the lungs to 
help dilute the salt."

"We know that part, doc. That's why we bring em in so fast, right?" Roy 
asked.

Early nodded. "But sometimes, the air in the lungs mixes with the fluids 
and forms a frothy foam, which acts as a barrier to oxygen exchange, 
this rare side effect can occur within four hours of near drowning and 
can turn into full blown ARDS soon after."

Gage closed his eyes in horror and sadness. "Acute respiratory 
distress syndrome? Is that what he's got going on right now?"

Kel finally looked up and met him in the eyes. "I'm afraid so. Things 
aren't looking so good."

"How so, doc? I mean, if it's just a matter of outwaiting the fluid 
build-up in the lungs..." Roy began.

"It's more than that, Roy, much more." said Dixie.

Joe elaborated. "A patient will often require intubation with 
mechanical ventilation. And Mike was already on assisted P.E.E.P. 
because of going through his back and upper arm procedures. His 
ARDS has progressed to the point that inflammatory membranes 
are forming around all of his aveoli sacs. Right now, he simply 
can't breathe through his lungs normally and get enough air. He's 
requiring very high amounts of oxygen and pressure to get that 
oxygen into his tissues which in itself can further damage the lungs 
with--"

Roy sighed, a painful sound. "...barotrauma and oxygen toxicosis."

Joe nodded. "Once a person gets ARDS, the mortality or death 
rate is upwards of 50%. ARDS can be caused by many things besides 
drowning such as smoke inhalation, other serious infections like 
aspiration pneumonia.."

Kel added more. "This is a ...final pathway that any pair of 
damaged lungs might eventually take. Anyone who actually recovers 
from ARDS can easily be considered...a- a miracle." he sobbed.

Gage struggled to talk. "Well, can.. can we see him?"

Roy nodded, chewing on a fingernail nervously, whole heartedly 
agreeing with Johnny with a like nod.

"Sure. I can't stop you. In fact, I'll waive all visiting hours for the both
of you." Brackett told them. "You can come see him anytime you want.
In fact, I'm personally not leaving his side, until all of this is over."

Dixie came over to Brackett and kissed him on the cheek before
she hurried away to hide her growing fear with the numbing distraction
of work.
 
-----------------------------------------------------------------------------------

The ICU room was full of noise, with the sounds of ventilators, EKG
and blood oxygenation monitors and a bubbling humidifier attached
to the wall. 

Johnny and Roy were almost reluctant to enter, but Kel went right
in and started a running strip off the heart monitor. "So far so good.
He's still a little tachy and hypotensive, but we've managed to stave
off any serious arrythmias with a course of bicarb to minimize 
his metabolic acidosis." he explained. 

Gage took advantage of the doctor to paramedic talk. 
"What else are you doing?" he asked, his expression flat and
calculating as he ran all the facts he was gathering from the
machines through his head. 

Kel frowned. "We've started another I.V. slightly less than
maintenance to prevent further pulmonary compromise. And
I'm considering antibiotics for his aspiration of contaminated
seawater."

Johnny pointed to a lab result sitting on Mike's table tray.
"But what about this? He's up to 34,000 now."

"That leukocytosis is a common stress response and is 
not indicative of infection." Brackett told him evenly. "It's too
soon to see signs of that yet."
 
"Why the bicarb?" Roy asked. "He never arrested."

Kel was frank. "As Mike's oxygenation improves, his acidosis will also 
resolve, hopefully. And his heart will become less and less likely to
stop as time goes by. We've placed an NG tube to prevent 
aspiration and to keep the stomach decompressed. Excessive 
contents could elevate the diaphragm and restrict thoracic volume.
That bicarb was just to hurry the process along a little faster."

"More space means more breathing surface.." Gage reasoned.

"Yes."

Roy circled the bed, not resisting the urge to feel for Mike's thready
pulse at one of his wrists. "Is there anything you can do for that rising
hypernatremia? He swallowed an awful lot of seawater. How will it
effect him if you can't get his blood saline levels back down to normal 
right aw--?"

On the bed, Morton's body arched into a seizure, upsetting the 
endotracheal tube's connection to the automatic respirator. Johnny and 
Roy threw themselves at his head to steady it long enough to connect
an ambu bag to the end to keep manual breaths going into his lungs. 
DeSoto hit the crash cart code blue button on the wall with his elbow.

From out in the hall, Kel heard the sound of nurses and the attending 
running towards them down the corridor.

##Code Blue. Code Blue.. ICU 4. Code Blue..## came the overhead 
announcement from the operator.

Kel held both of Morton's arms as he lowered the bed to level with
a foot pedal. "Johnny, get 10 mg diazepam! Stat. It's in the crash cart. 
Top shelf!"

"I got it.." said Gage, hurrying to bleed the needle of air. "Where? ET
or I.V."

"I.V... Push it. We have to end this seizure now." snapped Brackett.

Intently, Roy and Brackett watched the cardiac monitor as a crush of
premature ventricular contractions began to intercede in between the
normal intervals on the monitor. "No.. Mike.. no.. Settle down.." Kel
muttered under his breath as Gage delivered the powerful sedative.

Emergency staff flooded into the room and jumped at every order Brackett
gave them. A minute later, Morton fell out of his seizure and his chest began
to rise in response to being ventilated actively. "He's set, doc. Where do
you want the P.E.E.P.?" Johnny said urgently, still squeezing the ambu bag 
connected to Morton's breathing tube. "His PO2 is 86% on the oximeter."

"Set it at 5-10 cm of positive end expiratory pressure." Kel ordered.

"Got it." said Johnny. "Seven cm, at twelve a minute."

The noise of Morton's racing heartbeat on the audio alarm began to slow.. 
140, 130,..100.

Brackett ordered more labs. "I want a urine osmolality and sodium levels asap.
And call up a radiologist. I want a full head CT and imaging MRI study done
once the labs are collected."

"What caused that convulsion? He was calm, resting.." said Gage when Morton
was stabilized.

Kel sighed, still sweating from every pore. "Acute hypernatremia often results 
in significant brain shrinkage, causing a stretching of bridging veins and arteries
between the two cerebral hemispheres. This can result in subdural hemorrhaging."

"A stroke?" Roy asked incredulously.

Kel simply nodded, keeping an eye on the oxygen percentages reading off of
his friend's central line. 

"How high can the salt get before it does permanent damage?" asked Johnny.

"Serum sodium levels of 150-170 mEq/L usually indicate dehydration. That
we can fix. Anything over 180 mEq/L results in permanent CNS impairment."
Brackett told him. Kel drew out a syringe from a special drawer in the crash
cart that they hadn't used. 

"What's that?" Roy asked.

Brackett's face was intent and lost in hard thought.
"Possibly the only thing that might save Mike now. I'm giving him Vasopressin.
5-10 Units I.M. SQ three times a day, as needed. Duration of action is 
approximately 3-6 hours. This will bring out more water from his body cells to help
carry that excess salt so it can be excreted out of his kidneys more rapidly. A 
short half-life lessens the risk of acute water intoxication and this makes it the ideal 
treatment for him."

"And if that doesn't work?" Roy asked.

"We'll try a combination of diuretics and a D5W infusion. If that fails, I'll risk dialysis.
On second thought, Johnny, start him on a 250 ml/h drip D5W. Let's not wait for 
that piggyback aid."

A half an hour later, Roy, Kel and Johnny were still working over Dr. Morton
at his bedside, when the tones went off.

------------------------------------------------------------------

Photo: Brackett standing by a crash cart.

Photo:  Roy looking stunned at Rampart.

Photo:  Johnny looking stunned at Rampart.

Photo:  Joe Early getting mad.

Photo:   Dix and Kel studying each other, serious.

Photo:   A Code Blue button.

Photo:   An Ambu bag being lowered onto your face.

Photo:   A surgically naso-intubated man getting bagged.

Photo:   Kel and Joe looking down onto a bed.

Photo:   A syringe full of medication in close up.

Photo:    Roy getting a rescue call by HT at Rampart.

***************************************************
From :  Cassidy Meyers <killashandrarey@hotmail.com> 
Sent :  Friday, July 6, 2007 6:34 PM 
Subject :  Cause and Effect..  

##Squad 51, with Engine 51. Respond with L.A.P.D. at
the amusement park. Unknown type rescue. 1780 Santa
Monica Boulevard. 1780 Santa Monica Boulevard. Cross
street, Caine. Time out: 20:22.##

"Doc?" Gage asked.

"I'll keep you posted." said Brackett, as he looked up
from where he was listening to Mike's breath sounds with
a stethoscope. "Thanks for all your help."

"I'm glad we were here." said Roy as the two of them 
started for the intensive care room's outer door.  

"So am I." said Kel. "Would you send Dixie in? I need her."

"First thing." said Gage, he lifted his handy talkie.
"L.A., Squad 51. Responding from Rampart General Hospital."

##Squad 51.##

The two paramedics departed reluctantly.

As they hurried through the busy halls, weaving in and out of
the crowd of patients and staff for the Emergency entrance, Roy 
bit his lip. "Boy, I sure hope Dr. Morton makes it."

Johnny was sharp. "Quit being stupid. What makes you sure he won't?"

DeSoto hit the open button on the receiving door. "Might be a feeling."

"Yeah, well. It's a paranoid one if it's anything. You saw the way
Brackett was going over him with a fine toothed comb. There's no way
he can take a turn for the worse again, without his knowing about it
the very same instant it happens. Kinda like how it happened, just now,
for us."

DeSoto didn't reply and his look spoke volumes. "I hope my instincts are
very wrong, Johnny. But he felt like he was dying to me."

Gage slammed his door shut as they both got into the squad, and hesitated
in putting his helmet on, even as Roy flicked on their lights and sirens to pull
away. "Don't say that. Not while he's still got a pulse." he murmured softly.

Roy nodded, angry with himself and he pulled them quickly away from the 
hospital proper. Rampart staff parted like the Red Sea before the squad,
but DeSoto didn't see any of them in his eyes. All he could see was the
bluish pallor that had been encircling Mike Morton's mouth while they were
resuscitating him.

----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

"Cap?" Roy hollered as they two of them got out of the rescue squad 
newly parked next to Engine 51's big bulk. 

"Over here. And keep under cover!" Hank warned them.

Immediately, Johnny and Roy hugged the back of the carnival games
booths, as they approached keeping low as they moved towards the
sound of his voice.

"Now what?" Gage snapped in irritation, trying to keep quiet with their
medical boxes as their handles and locks jingled.

Hank heard his paramedic and ran over to join them. "Bomb threat."

Johnny was dismayed. "Oh, terrific.." he said sarcastically. "Are we
here to evacuate?"

"The police have already taken care of that. The Bomb Squad's here, 
with their sniffer dogs. They're looking for a device that might be located
somewhere on the pier." 

Roy rubbed his chin around his helmet strap. "What tipped them off?"

"An anonymous pay phone call." Cap said, dripping displeasure. "Placed
about twenty minutes ago."

"And we're the standby in case that thing's real, and goes off?" Johnny asked.

"You got it." said Kelly, looking small as he crouched behind a solid
pier piling. "The dock's been cleared up to where you see them making
their move." he said, tossing his curly head into the specialists direction.

Cap sighed. "Stoker. Go charge up a line, just in case."

A dog, under one man's leash, began to whine, straining as it approached
a large, chained down wire basket full of trash. 

"Everybody down!" yelled the detective in charge. "Spike's on point!"

Gage couldn't resist, and he peeked around the corner of the building
from under the edge of his tipped down helmet rim. "They're about
a hundred feet away from us. Out in the open. Right in the middle."

Cap and the others took a caution look, too. 

Hank beat him to his next thought.
"Do you think those bullet proof vests and shields are tough enough to
decently protect those men?"

"No." said Chet. 

Gage glared at Chet in irritation for jumping in. But he soon sided with Kelly
wholeheartedly. "I have to agree with Chet. They look as thin as tissue paper,
even from over here."

Roy made another observation from where they all pressed against the
building, holding their breaths in silent waiting. "Their legs and arms are 
completely exposed. If they get nailed, any bleeding'll be arterial beyond a
doubt."

"Don't get morbid." said Cap to DeSoto.

"I'm not. I'm just being a paramedic, anticipating the worst, so I'll be better
prepared." Roy said seriously.

"Ignore him, Cap. He was doing the same thing at the hospital after we
visited Dr. Morton."

Cap brightened, in spite of the situation. "Oh? How's he doing? Is his 
back okay?"

Johnny cleared his throat nervously as the excited dog was cautiously 
backed off and re-crated. "It's too soon to tell. Right now, they're 
concentrating on stabilizing his condition first."

"Stabilizing?" asked Marco. "Did something bad happen?"

Roy sighed. "Mike had a convulsion. Brought about because of a metabolic
imbalance due to a large ingestion of seawater. But he's sedated now, 
comfortably."

Johnny added more."Guys, they're evaluating him for the possibility of having
suffered a stroke. They're suspecting the seizure was the first symptom of that."

"What?" Stoker whispered. "But Dr. Morton's healthy. I thought he was just 
a little banged up this morning; nothing that couldn't be fixed easily."

"So did we." said Gage. "But apparently, those horror stories we always hear 
about on the perils of drinking seawater, are true."

Stoker was quiet. "What are his chances?"

Roy shook his head minutely. "I don't know. Dr. Brackett doesn't know either. 
And that's got me real scared. He's not leaving Mike's side at all. You should 
have seen the look on his face as we left, guys. It was--"

Johnny watched as two of the senior bomb squad members advanced on
the open wire waste basket with a shrapnel shoulder yoke bucket and thick 
pairs of gloves and leg guards. "You know, I'm really starting to regret every 
bad thought I ever had about Dr. Morton. His gruff bedside mannerisms 
aside, he definitely is a good doctor now that I really think about it." he 
murmured. 

The others didn't say anything. They didn't need to, each were lost in their 
own thoughts.

And that's when it happened.

BOOM!!

"Pipe bomb!" yelled the detective, running out from behind his sheltering wall
as he watched his two bomb defusing men fall. A cloud of nails and a plume
of incinerated propellant coned up around their upper bodies as blast shock 
took hideous effect.

Hank yelled. "Safe?! Is it safe?!"

"Yeah! Get 'em in there!" shouted the detective.

Galvanized into horrified action, Roy and Johnny ran for the smoking officers lying
on the boardwalk. Their hands were raised and fingers frozen, both reaching out in a
rictus of pain. Their legs and arms were throughly porcupined with embedded nails 
and screws. The garbage basket itself was flower petaled open, all of its fresh
trash and papers burning with other falling cinders, igniting wood planks all around
under a flaming soot fall.

Cap snapped out orders. "Mike, Marco, get that inch and a half and put out
this fire." He hefted up his walkie talkie. "Engine 51, L.A. Our bomb has exploded. 
Hazmat danger zero. This was a low-order. Fire containable. Two victims down. 
Send an additional squad and a beach helicopter for air-evac. Stand by for our 
patient status in five."

##Engine 51.##

Gage shouted."Get stokes and backboards!"

The gang rushed forward, wetting down the pier as they hurried to reach the
blast victims' sides. 

Roy dropped onto his knees next to the first who wasn't moving. He lifted the
cracked face shield and startled. "Ahh.." A six inch spike had penetrated the 
special plastic and was embedded sickeningly in between the man's bulging 
eyes. They stared up sightlessly. "This officer's dead." he said as his probing 
fingers found the lack of a pulse in his bloody neck. He saw gray matter beginning 
to drip out of his nose. "He's past attempting." he told the others. "Leave him."

DeSoto turned to the screaming man to whom Johnny was speaking.

Johnny was quickly exposing areas showing blood.
"Easy, easy. Just lie still. You've got punctures all over the place up
and down both of your arms and legs and you're bleeding badly from your
thigh. Don't move. We're gonna stop it and your pain as soon as we can."

"Marve? M-Marve?!" The second man kept trying to reach for the feet of
the first.

DeSoto grabbed the older officer's shoulders when he saw Marco begin
to apply a femoral artery pressure hold. "Hey. Listen to me. I'm sorry.
But Marve didn't make it. He's gone."

The wounded cop's face fell into lines of grief, shock. "...no. Not Marve.."
he gasped, finally accepting what his eyes were telling him. Then he grimaced 
as the agony of his wounds bore down in sharp focus when the adrenaline he 
had been experiencing, starting wearing off.

Roy held his head as Chet set him on flowing oxygen. "Where else do
you hurt? How's your head? Chest?"

"Just my legs and arms.." the man sobbed, sweating. "Oh, G*d. Why did we
come?" he cried.

His detective boss was thunderstruck. Kneeling carefully in the sharp debris, 
he took his police officer's bloody hand without moving it. "Because you had 
to, Steve. Lives were at stake. Did you think Marve doubted, even for once 
instant, that you and he weren't absolutely the best men for the job?! We'll 
get that b*st*rd who did this. And he'll pay. Mark my words, Steve. He'll 
pay dearly."

Hank sighed when he saw Stoker pull a sheet over the dead man.
"L.A. Engine 51. Cancel the second squad. We've one alive, one Code F
at the scene. Please respond the county examiner."

##Engine 51. Baywatch is responding to secure your landing zone on
the beach three hundred feet south of the pier. E.T.A of Copter Two is 
five minutes.##

"10-4, L.A." Stanley replied. "We'll use stokes and bring him down there 
using a lifeguard truck."

Steve tried to talk, but pain made it impossible and he cried out as numbness
swept down his left leg. He lifted his head and saw that the paramedics were 
clamping off part of its circulation with hemostats, probing a gaping wound 
cratering around an embedded nail stuck in at an angle near his groin. 
"How ba-- bad is it?" he finally managed.

Roy looked up. "You won't lose the leg. The main artery's only nicked and
this nail's no longer a danger. It's in a bone. Lie back and keep still. Our ride 
to the hospital's on the way."

Johnny Gage stayed on his feet to avoid red hot pieces of steaming metal.
##Rampart, this is Squad 51. How do you read?## he hailed over the loud
noise of Stoker's hose as he snuffed out the last of the fire sputtering on
the planks around them.

It was Joe Early who answered the biophone.

---------------------------------------------------------------

Photo:  Station 51 on the Santa Monica Pier.

Photo:    Police with bomb dogs.

Photo:    Johnny and a detective in ballistics gear.

Photo:    Pipe bomb going off in a bomb squad man's face.

Photo:    Stoker hooking up a fire hose to Engine 51.

Photo:    Cap and Johnny kneeling, talking in scba.

Photo:    A man talking with blast effect burns.

Photo:   Joe Early on the biocom in the base station.

**************************************************
From :  Patti or Jeff or Cassidy <theaterhost@voyagerliveaction.com> 
Sent :  Wednesday, July 11, 2007 2:16 PM 
Subject :  Aftermath.. 


##Go ahead, 51. I read you loud and clear.## replied Early.

Johnny nodded at Roy to tell him that their broadcast
was being received in spite of them being on the busy coastline.
"Rampart, we've a conscious male in his early thirties. Victim of 
a close quarters pipe bomb. A second victim is a Code F from the 
same range due to ejecta. There are signs of primary and secondary 
blast injury. Outwardly, multiple superficial and penetrating wounds 
are evident about the arms and legs only. He is wearing protective 
Kevlar ballistics gear that was effective over all vital areas. We are 
controlling an active left upper thigh arterial hemorrhage with 
clamps. Stand by for vital signs..."

##Standing by, 51.## said Joe.  

--------------------------------------------------------------------------------

The silver haired doctor frowned as he wrote down his notes 
from the rescue call. Thinking a bit, he picked up the black phone 
on the wall. "Hello, this is Dr. Early. Send down a full trauma team
to Emergency. I want an X-ray team, a respiratory specialist, and
two surgeons. We've a blast victim coming in with a severe 
vascular injury. That's right. Just the one... Thanks." and he hung 
up the receiver.

Grabbing a cup of coffee just outside the glass door of the base station, 
Joe waited for the red light to turn back on with a channel return from 
Squad 51.

---------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Roy gestured at Lopez. "Keep up that pressure point at the femoral. 
Watch yourself. There's a nail right there."

Marco nodded, pressing his gloves down as he leaned in with most of 
his weight over the area without disturbing the impaled metal.

Gage looked up as the gang ran oxygen and a long board over to them
from the engine. Johnny shouted. "Guys, go ahead and get him on 
a high flow! Set it top aperature. He's still breathing okay. But wait on the 
spine board. We've got to get the rest of this gear off first.  Be careful 
around this." he said, pointing to the still oozing thigh wound that he and 
Roy had exposed with scissors through pants material. Two used 
hemostat clamps stuck out of the wound, throbbing with each 
pulsebeat around the hidden leg artery that they were only partially 
constricting. "Marco, is that starting to stop yet?" he asked.

Lopez coughed, not lifting up his gloved hands over the pressure point in
the man's groin. "A clot's forming. But it's still bleeding a bit."

Gage leaned over the jagged gash. "Good enough. We don't want
to cut off total circulation. Keep at it. If you get tired, switch off with Chet."

Kelly smiled as he fussed with the policeman's protective helmet
and face shield as he figured out how to pull it off. "Easy, Steve. I got some 
relief for ya." he said, holding up an oxygen mask. "Just try and slow your 
breathing down a little. That might be part of why you're feeling so dizzy." he 
said, seeing the man's eyes spinning around. He had to firmly hold Steve's 
face in between his knees long enough to finish applying the hissing oxygen
supply.

"My.. my ears are ringing... badly.." Steve coughed, still gasping. 

Roy got out his penlight and began a thorough head to toe assessment.
"Steve, your eardrums are okay. That vertigo could be after effects of
all that noise from the explosion working on you. Do you hurt anywhere else 
besides your arms and legs?" he said, checking his pupils, mouth, ears and 
nostrils for occult blood.

"My...sinuses. They're burn...burning.." he said, bringing up an abraded hand.
As he spoke, a trickle of pink fluid ran out of his nose.

DeSoto wiped the fluid away with a 4 X 4, and handed a new one to Chet 
for him to use. "I know. The explosion's shaken up everything hollow inside 
of you. That's why I'm checking you out. How's your neck and back? Can you 
move your feet and hands okay?" he said, checking the red stain on the gauze 
square for signs of the yellowing edge of cerebral spinal fluid. There were none.

Steve cleared his throat, sounding hoarse. "They're fine." he said shakily.
"I still feel them."

"All right. We're gonna get the rest of this stuff off." DeSoto said, patting
the thick armor over Steve's chest. "But don't do any work. Let us do it for
you." he told him, nodding to the other officers that it was okay to help get
him out of the blast gear. "After that, I gotta cut your uniform off to see
where else you've been hurt."

"Oh." said Steve. He closed his eyes as he started to shake in reaction.
"I'm..I'm so cold."

"We'll fix that. How's your pain on a scale of one to ten?" Johnny asked.

"F-Four or five." bubbled Steve, grimacing.

"Think you need something for it?" Gage said as he placed the steel
drum of a stethoscope onto Steve's bare chest. He listened over all areas,
tipping his head down to drown out the sounds of the fire hose.

"Not ..that bad. Maybe....later." he answered, his face growing blank with
shock. "How's Marve?" Then he remembered. "Oh...G*d..." he said, tears 
falling slowly. Steve blinked, muzzy. "Chief, what are we doing in the parking 
lot?"

The paramedics exchanged looks at the new sign of missing memory.

His boss knelt around fine, splattered blood. "Steve, we're all here 
with ya. So's Mac, Newmy, Scott. We're not going anywhere. And I'm
personally going with ya in the chopper."

Roy looked up at the detective. "Tell me about this kind of bomb. We
need to know the power of the energy it may have released.
He may be hurt internally as well."

The detective's face became more lined as he watched his man get
covered up with a thick wool blanket. "Fireman, this was an L.E. It causes 
deflagration rather than detonation and the release of energy was relatively 
slow, we read it went off at under 40 kilopascal or 6 psi. That was a subsonic 
explosion lacking the overpressurization blast wave that characterizes H.E.s, 
like dynamite, TNT or C4 gel. It had practically no punch."

DeSoto nodded, remembering his days serving in Viet Nam. "So nowhere
near the threshold of inflicting deep cardiac or intestinal blast injury?"

"Most likely not. It lost a lot of force, just sending out those shrapnel fragments." 

"Okay, thanks. That info helps." Roy told him. 

Gage thought of more. "What about the propellant? Will it burn these wounds?"

"No. It's gun powder. And it's already cold." replied Cap, who was standing near 
by, getting their stokes straps ready. "Recognize that smell?"

"All I can smell is blood, Cap." Johnny said quietly as he started swabbing off
a clear place on Steve's arm for an I.V. start.

Roy looked up from taking a blood pressure. 
"Chet could you set him up on an EKG? Turn it to audible so we can hear it."

"Okay." answered Kelly. "A two lead?"

"No, twelve. We need the whole picture." said Roy. "Skip the limb leads.
They won't stick." Roy picked up the biophone. "Rampart, Squad 51." 
He accepted Johnny's care notes quickly.

##Go ahead.## said Joe.

"Doc, this is what we've got. Blood pressure's 86 over 54. Respirations
are still labored at twenty two. Chest is wheezy in all fields. He's exhibiting
temporary bouts of amnesia about recent events concerning the incident. 
On the left, he has a hemotympanum without perforation and bilateral tinnitus. 
Pupils are equal and reactive. EKG is showing.." he paused while Kelly turned 
the monitor so he could see it. "...mild bradycardia with that hypotension. 
Bleeding from the leg is now minimal." Roy reported. "Pulse is 42. Skin cool 
and wet. He's on O2 being actively treated for shock. Also, he's got some 
tinged fluid coming from both nostrils that's negative for CNS involvement." 
Roy clarified. "Sending you a strip, Lead XII."

Early read the EKG rhythm swiftly. Then he fingered the talk button.
##After starting two large bore I.V.'s of Ringer's Lactate in both arms, and 
if he's negative for neck or spinal injuries, raise his head, 51. Assume the 
patient's wheezing is associated with a blast injury involving pulmonary 
contusion. 

Joe's voice became very serious with the next orders, making Roy's eyes
widen in surprise. ##Listen carefully. A thoracic PBI produces a unique 
cardiovascular response, observed nowhere else in medicine, Roy, that 
might cause an arrest in this victim in the absence of any demonstratable 
physical injury to the chest.The immediate cardiovascular response to pulmonary 
blast injury is this decrease in heart rate, stroke volume, and strength. The 
normal reflexive increase in systemic vascular resistance isn't occurring. That's 
why his blood pressure's falling inexplicably. Be super-aggressive with those I.V.s.
Bag him without an ET if he stops breathing. He should recover a good BP again 
and regain any consciousness loss, within 15 minutes. Use 1 mg. epinephrine 
I.V. push only if he goes apneic.##

DeSoto looked up quickly. "Two of L.R. Push it. Faster than wide." he told Johnny.
"Chet prep an ambu."

Gage knelt on the I.V. bag he already had going and passed off the second to
an eager policeman. "Squeeze that. Hard. As fast as it'll drip." he told him.

Roy was still receiving his orders.
##Look for quaternary injuries, including thermal burns, scattered petechiae,
and confluent hemorrhages over all areas above gas containing organs. 
Suction away hemoptysis as needed and watch for newly developing chest 
pain. Monitor his neurological status. Primary blast waves cause concussions 
without a direct blow to the head. That might explain his inability to stay focused
on events. Splint his left leg and pelvis and transport by air a.s.a.p. Keep me
posted on any further downgrade and we'll manage it together, step by step.## 
said Joe. ##Contact me every five minutes en route with new vitals.##

"10-4, doc. Aggressive fluid and respiratory support. Load and go. Squad
51, out."

As Roy hung up the phone, Steve's eyes fluttered shut. "Johnny..."
DeSoto warned.

"Steve?" asked the detective in alarm. "Guys...!" he pointed urgently.

Gage pulled the blanket down and set both hands on the wounded 
police officer's stomach. "He's breathing. But it's shallow. Chet, help 
him a little on the ins. Don't overdo it. He's developed lung bruising."
he said as he re-covered their patient.

"Pulse's still slowing." Kelly said, taking a quick carotid to make sure it
was still being felt despite the visual and audio on the monitor.

Roy glanced at him. "It's gonna happen. Keep a look out for PEA on 
the quick view. If he slips into it and loses that beat, yell. Do you
remember how that arrythmia presents before it takes effect?"

Kelly nodded, keeping up his slow, steady assistance bagging on the 
unconscious man. "Yeah, you showed me several different kinds on 
paper strips last month."

"I did? Okay." Roy rubbed his sweaty forehead in hurried concentration.
"That was smart thinking." Roy hurried as he began to pack up their gear.
"Cap, Mike. Carry him head end higher once we get him in the stokes. 
We'll splint that bad leg once we're in the air."

"Want an O.P. in?" Kelly asked them, reaching a couple of fingers into 
his turnout jacket for the pack of oral airways he always kept there.

"No, the doc says he's waking up in a few. Says this is just a temporary 
reaction." DeSoto told him. He regarded their patient with a close eye. 
"He does seem to be managing well enough with just that head tilt.
How does he feel?"

"Easy in-s. No problems." Chet said, as he watched the man's chest rises 
along with the placement of his fingers over the mask of the bag valve 
resuscitator. He repositioned them lightly to stop a sudden face leak.

"Kelly.." DeSoto said, dissatisfied. "..do you want the detective to help 
you? Looks like you might need two people there."

"All right, I can use him." agreed Kelly quickly. "He's shivering a bit."

"I'm here. Right here." said the worried chief. "Just like CPR class?" 
he said, taking over Chet's finger-cupped mask hold.

"Yep." said Chet. "Use two fingers to lift up his jaw as you
do that. It works better. Grab the mask like you guys hold a shot gun, 
in a double grip." he shared, as he began to use both hands to
squeeze the breathing bag. "See?"

"Yeah.. yeah.." said the cop when he felt an easier flow of oxygen 
begin to move through Steve's wider opened windpipe. "I got it."

Cap spoke, telling the rest of the worried, still armored policemen to 
step back as he and the rest of the gang lifted Steve off the wet pier 
planks and into the wire basket. "Thanks, fellas, we've got him from 
here. He's going to Rampart Emergency. Marco, replace yourself 
with a couple of sandbags, then help us carry him to the pier's entryway. 
Is he and the gear all in and strapped down? Okay, guys, let's move him 
out!"

----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Joe Early abandoned the bomb squad man into the hands of
his surgeons. He soon returned to the front desk by Dixie's stool. He 
smiled when he saw Roy and Johnny reassembling their spent 
resuscitation tank with fresh parts as they kneeled nearby. They were 
also recoiling the wires on the EKG monitor back into reassessible 
potability inside of its defibrillator case. "Hey, Roy, Johnny, Chet. Nice 
job on our patient."

"He's gonna make it?" Gage asked in an incredulous tone.

"You doubt your acting physician's direct prognosis?" he chuckled.
"Of course he's gonna make it. That explosion was an L.E. Those
only kill with the debris it manages to fling out."

"That's a relief. It was pretty touch and go for a while there once
we were airborne." said DeSoto. "For a few seconds, Chet, Johnny
and I thought we had actually lost his pulse."

"That was just his further slowing bradycardia. Bound to skip a beat or
two at the height of its effect. He didn't lose color at all, did he?" Early
challenged in good humor.

"No. That's what finally clued us off that he wasn't shockable." Roy smiled.
"That and the heartbeat Johnny heard apically."

"Glad you weren't fooled into attempting compressions. Our man's got
enough healing to do without adding cracked ribs to the mix."

"So what's the next step for him? Past that surgery to repatch his leg artery?"
Johnny wondered. 

Joe shrugged. "A couple of chest x-rays for sure, eventually. Blast lung 
produces a characteristic “butterfly” pattern on films. His next risks are
systemic air embolism, and free radical–associated injuries such as thrombosis, 
lipoxygenation, and disseminated intravascular coagulation."

"Fat balls, air bubbles and clots in his tissues and circulatory system?" Gage
wondered. Then he gave out a long sigh of sympathy.

"Yes. Those are secondary complications. He may even develop ARDS as
a result of his direct lung injury, which has turned out to be something called
acute gas embolism, a form of pulmonary barotrauma. The air and fat emboli 
that have broken free into his lungs, might later occlude blood vessels 
in the brain or spinal cord."

"Sounds nasty." said Kelly. "It's like he got the bends from a firecracker."

"Apt analogy. Things can get bad. But I have every confidence that he won't 
reach a stroke or paralysis endstage. We got his pressure back up fast 
enough and you guys did an absolutely terrific job by not jostling him 
unnecessarily during flight." Early told them, pleased.

Roy accepted the compliment gracefully, as did the others. But he was still
worried. "What about his intestines? I didn't hear active peristalsis."

Joe held up his hand to reassure him. "Abdominal injuries from explosions 
may be occult, showing up only days later. Serial examinations are often required.
But in his case, that air by the sea was a very poor conductor of blast-wave 
energy. It was too thick to push very far. In fact, any close quarters pressure 
changes he might have experienced colon wise had to work through all that tough 
body armor first. His blood work's coming back good, all things considering. I think
they're just in spasm for now, because he's still cold. It won't be long before he 
reawakens in Recovery under heated blankets, and when he does, they'll most
likely follow suit."

Gage relaxed. "I really thought he was goner, doc. He's my first bombing victim."

"I hope you'll never see another case." said Joe. "They are the most complexly injured 
patient that any paramedic ever encounters."

Roy agreed, regarding his partner with a look of deep thought and a little sorrow. 
"I hated seeing that outside of a war zone.." he broke off, "Incendiaries are a 
horrific way to maim and destroy people."

Gage set his hand on DeSoto's shoulder, remembering his war vet status only
belatedly. He didn't look at Roy's face, offering him a bit of privacy for the 
emotions that were still twisting on his features. He changed the subject by
asking Joe another question. "How's Dr. Morton doing? Is he any better?"

Joe looked up from his coffee cup and replied...

-----------------------------------------------------------------------------

Photo:   Ambu over your face.

Photo:   Various EKG strips showing pulseless electrical cardiac activity.

Photo:   A pipe bomb exploding behind a barrier.

Photo:   A policeman in ballistics gear.

Photo:   Cap and Stoker looking on, worriedly by the engine.

Photo:  Gage holding up a piece of shrapnel.

Photo:   Joe and Roy talking over Dixie's desk.

Photo:   A Mayfair parked at Rampart.

Photo:   Roy looking horrified.

**************************************************
From :  patti keiper <pattik1@hotmail.com> 
Sent :  Wednesday, July 11, 2007 11:01 PM 
Subject :  A Little Sugar and Cream Never Hurt Anybody.. 


"Well, I don't know the latest, since I've been filling in for Kel
and Dixie down here, all night. But I can tell you that--"

"He's awake, on soft foods, wiggling all of his fingers and 
toes, and asking for visitors.." said a happy, husky voice 
approaching from down the hall.

"Dixie!" said Roy, Chet, Johnny and Joe joyfully.

Gage gave her a hug. "Boy, am I relieved. So he's over his
crisis?"

"Yep." she said, accepting the embrace.

"Any further complications?" asked Roy.

"Nope." she replied, returning Roy's smile.

"Who's Dr. Morton?" asked Chet. 

Gage burst out laughing. "Chet, you mean to tell me that you can't 
remember the man who got you started on the great crash diet 
craze?" He let Dixie go, and offered her a cup of coffee.

Chet shook his head.

Johnny tried again.
"Remember when you tried to starve our whole shift half to death? 
It was about the same week Cap almost got electrocuted on that wire."

Chet shook his head a second time.

Gage got real bugged, thinking Chet was up to some funny business.
"Are you kidding me about this?" he asked suspiciously.

Kelly shook his head once more, exactly like the first two.

"Okay, I believe ya." said Johnny, putting both hands into his pockets.

Roy sighed, rubbing his chin, still studying Chet who saundered over
to the drinking fountain to wet his whistle. "All those figs he ate back then, 
must have wiped out his memory or something, eh, Johnny?"

"No, maybe WE did, after we glommed onto him for inflicting that diet 
of his on us." Johnny scoffed, good naturedly. But then he snapped 
his fingers, getting an idea. "Say, Roy? Let's see if he remembers 
Mike after his memory's jogged a little, shall we? Dix? Is Morton still 
in the same room?"

"No, he's been moved to the general floor and out of ICU. He's in 
309 East." McCall replied. 

They started off for the elevators. 

She stopped them.
"Wait a minute. You guys don't have a 'get well fast' card, gift, or 
anything to offer Morton yet. Why go right now? He'll be better rested 
tomorrow." she reasoned.

Gage leaned backwards into Dixie's ear. "Yeah, but tomorrow Chet 
won't be here to see him. Get my point?"

"No." she answered truthfully, looking blank.

Johnny humored her, indicating to Chet and Roy that he was heading 
for the souvenir shop. "We'll think of something. You're welcome to 
come along with us."

"Nope. For today, I'm his nurses' supervisor. He doesn't get to see 
me again unless he's dying a second time and I'm pushing in his 
crash cart." she quipped. "Once was bad enough."

Roy scratched his head. "This is a little unrelated but...How come 
doctors can treat other doctors, and nurses other doctors, but 
paramedics can't treat their own family members?"

Dixie made a face. "Personal involvement?"  

Joe laughed. "Ah, I believe the key word is intimate personal 
involvement."

McCall chuckled. "Well, that doesn't wash. Kel and I were involved 
when I broke my ankle six years ago."

Gage grinned. "Yeah, but he wasn't the one who reset your bone. 
Dr. Rivers did that. Kel only came in there to gloat."

Dixie frowned. "Don't remind me. I hated every minute of being a 
patient in my own department."

Roy looked at her. "Think of it from Dr. Morton's perspective. He's 
got it worse. He's going to be a patient in his own hospital for at least 
week or more."

Dixie grew thoughtful. "Hmm. Maybe I can rub that in a little."

Joe smacked her arm. "Don't you dare. He's still a sick man."

McCall compromised. "Okay. I won't. I'll wait until he's filling out
the discharge papers that only I'll be bringing him."

Roy smirked. "You're evil."

"No, just playful." she corrected evenly. "Gotta make up for all the
gruffness he's dished out on my nurses today one way or another. 
They aren't standing up to him one iota. I've been watching."

Joe sighed. "That's because he's a doctor." he teased in a whisper.

Dixie held up a finger. "No, it's because he's Dr. Morton. There's a 
difference." she explained carefully. " 'Bedside Brusk', that's what
they call his personality."

"Can't say that's not true.." Joe admitted honestly. "But he's still a 
h*ll of a good resident and I'm glad I work with him."

"Uh, huh. You work WITH him. Not under him." McCall clarified.
"He's a whole different man if you're living in our shoes." she said
about herself and the other nurses on her staff.

Joe smiled, realizing he was treading in increasingly hot water. He 
glanced at Roy and Johnny. "Keep it short. He's still tired most likely."

Gage started giggling. "We will. See you later. Come on, Chet. Start
breaking out your wallet. I wanna pool our money together to buy 
Mike a gift. Ah, ah, ah.. Before you open your mouth, don't worry.." he 
added, fending off Chet's not yet formed complaint. "We'll both pay 
you back before the shift's over, okay?"

"Okay, but I still don't know this Morton guy." Kelly said.

"Oh, you will." said Johnny. "Boy, will you!" he laughed.

Roy agreed. "In a couple of seconds."

--------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

A quiet knock at the door alerted Dr. Morton to open his eyes.
He tried to clear his throat when he remembered yet again
that the drain tube was still threading out of his back around
the sutures. He decided not to move again.  

But the well aimed pillow had silenced the EKG monitor that
had been bleeping over his bed. Mike had been sweaty
and panting after that little goal was accomplished, but he was 
VERY proud of himself for the silence that he had won. 

Until now. He began to grumble but then stopped himself 
when the knock repeated even softer than before.

"Come in?" he replied reflexively, finally recognizing that the 
raps were friendly and not at all medically efficient like those
of the nurses caring for him.

"Dr. Morton?" asked Roy through the crack in the door.
"Are you awake?"

Mike sat up in his bed, grimacing a little. "Yeah. Come in. All 
three of you." he gasped around his nasal cannula. 

"Dr. Morton, how are you feeling?" Gage began when
they had entered.

"Fellas, please, call me Mike." he smiled. "I'm a patient now."

"Okay." Johnny smiled warmly, still being quiet. It didn't work
very well when a brown paper bag behind his bag rustled loudly
from where he had it hidden.

"Is that Chester Kelly?" Morton trickled, squinting a little.

"Yeah. Uh,.. hi." said Kelly, truly acting like he didn't know Morton.

"Don't you remember me? I turned you into a real
bonafide health nut by accident." Mike said to him.

"Really? Well, isn't that kind of like what a doctor is supposed 
to do for his patient?" Chet asked, guessing what their 
relationship had been.

Johnny smacked Kelly on the arm. "Chet, you weren't his patient.
He was your advisor, at the station. You two discussed nothing but
food for an entire hour in the bunkroom according to Cap."

"Doesn't ring a bell. But I'm really glad to meet you now. Man,
the other day, I thought you were a goner." he said, leaning over
the bed as he held out his hand.

Morton grinned, taking the offered handshake into his own."Sorry to 
disappoint you then, Chester B. Guess these two paramedic 
boys are just too d*mned efficient to play the sudden death game 
very often, huh?"

Chet confided in him. "Yeah, they don't like getting halos on their 
patients. So,...You got all your toes and fingers back."

"I sure did. No paralysis whatsoever. See?" he said wiggling them
under the blankets. "But seriously, fellas. It's my turn to say that
I'm grateful I'm still alive." he told them. "Roy, Johnny. I heard 
what you guys did for me this morning when I stopped breathing."

Gage shrugged, crossing his arms respectfully. "We didn't do
much. We just... took over for the machine for a while until your
seizure was knocked out."

"I would have died." Mike said significantly. "Sure the code blue
team would have eventually brought me around. But not easily
if my heart had gone out as well. And all that CPR you prevented
could have redamaged my spinal fracture site. Then where would
I be?"

"I don't know." said Roy, not willing to brag, even as he smiled.

"I probably wouldn't be a doctor any more. All that motion would
have severed my spinal cord, Kel said. He just saw my X-rays a
couple of minutes ago." Mike shared. "So, please, accept my 
thanks... from the bottom of my heart. Literally." 

Roy and Johnny were struck speechless, very touched. 

"No problem, Mike." Chet said for the both of them. Then he
reached back and snagged the bag Johnny still held out of sight.
"Hey, did you see what we brought ya?" Kelly asked. "You're
not restricted to just clears are you?"

"Nah, I'm up to soft food already."

"Good, 'cause you're gonna love what we brought ya." Chet said,
dumping out the contents onto Mike's bed covers.
 
Mike's lit up eyes, then fell into a look of confusion when he saw what
his gift items were. "Three eggs, a can of evaporated milk, a salt
shaker, a jar of strawberry preserves and a half pound of sugar?"

"Oh, and don't forget these." Johnny said eagerly, handing over
a wooden spoon and a porcelain mixing bowl that Roy had been
hiding.

"What are these, boys? Are you sure you brought the right bag?"
he laughed.

"Sure we did." said Johnny eagerly. "Haven't you ever heard of 
homemade ice cream before?"

Morton rubbed a scab on his nose left over from the sea chafing
he had suffered. "Yeah. But I don't see any ice here, do you?"

For a few seconds, Roy, Johnny and Chet's faces fell into ones
of deep dismay but then, just as quick they dropped all pretense,
letting Dr. Morton off the hook. "Got ya. Of course we didn't forget
the chilly stuff. How could we? That wouldn't have been very smart."

Morton looked at them expectantly, lacing his fingers together.
"So,..where it is?"

Gage snapped his fingers. "Gimme your pillow case." he ordered,
grinning.

"I beg your pardon?" Morton sputtered. 

"Your pillowcase." Roy repeated, looking highly amused.

Shrugging, Mike lifted up his head and started to grab the soft
bundle under his head.

"No, not that one. Hand us the one you're not using." Chet said
with duh, written all over his voice.

Mike sighed and did so. "This is crazy, absolutely nuts."

"Not really. It's called..." said Chet expansively. "Science.." he
finished mysteriously. He went on in a voice sounding like an
absent minded professor. "As liquid evaporates, it gets cold. 
This effect, familiar to anyone who has been wet, happens 
because it takes energy to turn a liquid into a gas, and that 
energy comes from heat drawn out of the liquid. How that 
interaction works is one of the most complicated subjects in 
science, but what’s important, is that it can be used to 
make....  homemade ice cream."

"I don't get it." Morton gestured, crossing his arms together 
around his shoulder cast as best as he could, in puzzlement.

"Oh, you will. You will." said Gage. "Shh, I think Chet's on a 
roll here." he whispered, sotto voce'.

Chet went on as if their little exchange had never taken place. 
"Now, you can’t just let cream evaporate and expect to get ice cream. 
No... Water in the open air won’t freeze from evaporation alone. But 
evaporating pressurized liquid carbon dioxide, draws so much energy 
out of it, that about a third ends up frozen solid." he concluded.

"That’s dry ice." added Roy, waggling his eyebrows like Groucho
Marx.

Morton started to giggle around his pain meds in spite of himself. 

"Just where do you get a tank of liquid CO2? From fire equipment pros,
of course. Like any of us firemen." Kelly droned on, completely
oblivious to the fact that he had Morton in stitches, a kind you couldn't
snip when all the healing was done.

Roy and Johnny got into the presentation. Jogging quickly over
to the other side of the room, they snatched open the fire extinguisher
case with a flourish.

Morton's eyes got real big. "No.. You're not going to use that to--"

"Shhh. Do you want your EKG to speed up any faster? Having a nurse
fly in here right now to check up on that'll only spoil our party." Johnny 
insisted, pushing Mike back down onto the bed.

Chet opened his eyes. They were twinkling. "Discharge a 10-pound 
CO2 fire extinguisher full blast into a pillowcase for about 10 seconds, 
and you’ll have several pounds of finely powdered dry ice." 

He demonstrated that step most enthusiastically, until he had some.

"Don’t play with it though. Dry ice can give you frostbite in a few seconds."
added Roy, still doing his Marx impersonation with an invisible cigar.

Morton was turning red, fighting himself to keep laughter inside so
he wouldn't trigger his cardiac monitor alarms.

Gage took over. "Then it’s a simple matter of pouring it into a bowl of 
ice-cream ingredients and stirring until frozen." He did so, splashing 
everything together into the bowl that he began whipping up. 

"Add the dry ice slowly to avoid the hard-as-rock syndrome..." said 
Chet, doing so.

"And wah la.. Instant strawberry ice cream." said Roy, in his normal voice
at last. 

"Dig in.." they all said at the same time.

Morton chortled, and accepted the plastic spoon that Johnny dug out
of his untouched green jello. "So is it edible?" he asked, making a face. 

Gage shrugged. "Why not?" he returned, leaning on the frost discharged 
extinguisher with his chin. "These were originally invented to be used in 
restaurant kitchens. CO2 fire extinguishers are still filled only with food-grade 
CO2."

Mike wiped the tears out of his eyes and tasted a small sliver of the stuff.

"Interesting." he said as the pink creamy lump melted on his tongue. "So
tell me, carbon dioxide is what makes soda fizz, right?"

"Right." they replied. 

He tipped his ace. "This ice cream actually came out carbonated."

"What?!" the guys exclaimed. They just had to dig their fingers
into the bowl to taste it themselves.

"Not bad." said Morton, with his mouth full. "But don’t plan on seeing CO2 
Crunch in the ice-cream case any time soon. It makes your teeth pop."
he concluded. "And I wouldn't recommend eating any of the lumps either."

"Why not?" Gage wanted to know.

"Because they're pure dry ice. Get me a glass of water. I think I froze
my spoon to the roof of my mouth. Ow.."

"What?!" Johnny sputtered.
   
"Easy, doc. Don't close your mouth!" Roy panicked.

"Shall I call for another doctor? Oh, no! Man chokes to death
in his own hospital r--" Kelly quailed.

"Quiet, Chet, and go get us some hot water. That'll work better."
snapped Johnny, as he held Mike's jaws open so he could 
continue to breathe.

"Guyth?...Guyths? Really, I'm thine. Juth gith me a bith, and we'll keet 
on eating. I'm acthually quite hungee." Mike mouthed around the spoon.

"You are?" Johnny paused, his fingers still inside Morton's mouth.

"Yeth." said Mike. He exhaled a big breath and his tongue
released the stick of the spoon. "Ahhh. It's come off. Skip that lavage,
Chet. I'm free!" said Morton aloud. "Grab yourselves a couple
of those plastic puke basins, boys, and I'll divee this delicious glop 
up, fair and square." he beamed, finally forgetting his pain for the first 
time since his near fatal plane crash accident.

Behind him, Chet smiled. ::Goal accomplished. Man! Doc, patients
don't need morphine all the time.:: he thought. ::Don't they always 
say that laughter's the best medicine of all? I rest my case and 
point.::


FIN

Episode Forty Six,  The Long Hours
Emergency Theater Live

-----------------------------------------------------------

Photo:  Joe and Dixie smirking at each other.

Photo:  Johnny and Roy regarding Chet with weird looks.

Photo:  Chet at Rampart in his turnout.

Photo:  Morton with incredulous doubt on his face.

Photo:  A fire extinguisher going off inside a pillow case.

Photo: A pillow case full of dry ice being poured into a bowl.

Photo: Pink ice cream made from dry ice.

Photo: Roy and Johnny totally breaking up into humor at Rampart.

**************************************************
 
            
                                     End Credits --  Episode Forty Six (Sixth Season)
                                      
                                           §§        The Long Hours     §§


                        :)     This episode is dedicated to anyone who puts           :)
                                their life on the line to defuse bombs planted in
                        :)      in the name of terror. May you stay safe always.         :)   

  
 
The Story Unfolds...

Season Six, Episode Forty Seven
 
 §§    I.V.Push    §§
 
Debut Launch: July 1st, 2007. 

 
*************************************************
From: Jeff Seltun <finiterider@yahoo.com> 
Date: Fri Jul 13, 2007 7:10 pm 
Subject: The Storm Waif.. 


The storm raged outside, the rain falling heavily in
through the chilly autumn air onto the roof of Station 51. 

It was two a.m. 

A rustling caused Henry to pick up his head from the couch
in the darkness as the shuffling booted feet of all six of
the gang got louder. A light switch flicked on.

"Man, what time is it?" Gage mumbled, rubbing his face
sleepily as he squinted in the bright lights.

"A bad time." retorted Chet. "We're not sleeping any more."
he replied crankily, seating himself heavily into a kitchen
chair at the table while he adjusted the straps on his pullup
trousers. Then his expression completely about faced.
"Who's turn is it to put the coffee on?"

Hank came into the room and immediately grimaced, fending
off the kitchen lights with a hastily raised arm. "Oh,.. that
smarts. Somebody, go kick on the emergency lights, would ya.
My eyes are bleeding." he groused.

"I got it." slurred Marco, pushing a chair in front of him as
he blindly progressed across the kitchen to the unit above
the doorway. He unsteadily climbed up onto the chair and 
punched it on manually. Two soft domes flooded out right 
after Cap flicked off the main ones, leaving the room in a 
soothing, sleepy pinkish glow.

"Ah,, that's much better." Cap said, making his way over to
the frig to dig out a carton of milk. "2 % or skim?" he asked
the room at large. Shadows around him animated as the gang 
called out their preferences, all except Chet.

"I'll take mine decaf.." Kelly said unenthusiastically when he
realized no one wanted to reach full wakefulness consciously.
"On second thought. Skim, with ginger cookies."

"There aren't any left." said Mike Stoker, downing the last
one from the box.

"Hey!" Chet complained. "You know the rules. Leave one until
it's replaced."

"We can't go shopping now, can we? We're on duty." said Marco,
yawning as he wrapped Henry over his lap to try and get warm.
"Brr.. it's so cold. Cap, can we turn on the heater?"

"It's too soon in the season yet. We've got a week to go before
the furnace is authorized for a kick on by Headquarters. Go put
in a few blankets into the dryer. Snuggle up in those afterwards."
Hank suggested.

"Good idea." said Marco, draping Henry over his shoulder like a 
hot water bottle as he got up and left the room. "Who wants one?"

All five hands rose into the air.

Roy opened the cupboards one by one as he rubbed the sleepers
out of his eyes. "Say, do we have any hot cocoa left over around 
here from last winter?"

"Does Cap snore?" Chet scoffed, shaking his head. "That's a dumb
question."

"No, it's not. It's on the inventory list for the month. So it's gotta be here."
Roy said, finally pulling out his pen light to search so he could see 
better in the dimness of the battery powered bulbs. "Aha!"

Chet shot up out of his seat and made a grab for the box. "I'll fix it.
I'm the only one around here who never manages to scorch the
chocolate."

"Fine. Thanks for volunteering." Roy smirked, taking a chair next to
where Johnny was dozing on his elbow propped hand.

Kelly smacked himself on the forehead. "I'm so gullible. Geez.This 
is first aid, guys, so we don't all freeze to death, so don't get used 
to seeing me waiting on you hand and foot, all right?"

"You already get underfoot." Cap grumbled, curled up in his chair
like a ball under an unfolded newspaper while he eagerly awaited the
hot blankets Marco was heating up. "When we don't want ya to."

"Gawd. What a grump. Is he always like this when he doesn't get 
enough beauty sleep?" Kelly asked Stoker.

Mike didn't dare answer that when he saw Cap's baleful eye staring out
at them from the shell of papers he had buried himself inside of.
Stoker decided to shoot Chet a nonverbal warning before turning back
to place-set out six mugs and saucers for their coming snack.

Gage had no such reluctance. "We're all turning into beasts tonight,
Chet. Don't tell me you haven't heard all that wind howling out there.
I swear, if it gets any colder, it's gonna start snowing."

Bang! ...bang..bang, came a noise.

"What's that?" Roy asked, still watching Chet stir in the Nestle's
powder into the pot of milk he was boiling on the stove. Annoyed
that he was being watched, Chet handed over the stirring spoon 
to the hovering paramedic and abandoned the both of them. 
Chuckling, Roy took over the job, enjoying the sweet steam 
rising up around his head.

Hank sighed. "It's that d*mned pine bough nobody gets to cutting down 
on lawn days, rubbing the building again. All that racket is what woke us
up tonight!" he coughed, irritatedly rolling over again in his chair until
his back was to the light. 

Bang....bang... 

The solid noise was enough to sober the whole gang as they listened
to the fury of the fall storm blowing violently outside the windows.

Henry came scrambling back into the dark kitchen on his thick claws
and the familiar sound finally made everybody smile. "Hey, look. 
Henry wants to play." Stoker said, bending over so Henry would 
come to him for an ear scrubbing. 

Chet looked around. "His ball's over there and I'm not getting up."
he said, from where he slumped in his seat. His eyes were staring up
into the emergency light. "If I'm gonna get insomnia and suffer for it,
everybody suffers along with me."

Gage scoffed. "You already make us suffer. We have to work with ya
six days a week and listen to you open up that mouth."

Hank barked. "Put a lid on it, you two, or go back to bed." he 
said icily.

Chet and Johnny shut up and watched as Roy poured out cocoa into
their cups. 

Lopez returned to the kitchen which was slowly warming with the four
red hot flaming burners Roy had left on intentionally. 

Hank eyeballed them and grunted. "Nice effect. It's like a mini fireplace."

DeSoto shrugged. "It's cheap."

Marco chucked his pile of dryer hot blankets into the middle of the table.
"Here you go. Seven blankets.The extra one's for Henry."  They were 
eagerly snapped up and used in seconds.

Time passed, but the storm didn't.

The gang slowly shivered and drained two pots of hot cocoa, willing
for the ease of sleep to return. Soon, the wool wrapped around their 
heads, had them dozing fitfully whereever they were draped over 
the furniture.

Johnny murmured from where he was slumped on the table.
"Man, am I glad we aren't getting any runs for once. This sucks." he
moaned.

The others agreed silently in the stillness.

It was two hours later when they finally got back to bed. Sleep was
slow to come when it finally did, near dawn.

------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
"Morning!" Gage said as he cheerfully sailed into the kitchen.
"What a beautiful day." he said.

"Beautiful to you. The rest of us needs a little more than three hours
sleep to feel resurrected, pal. So stop rubbing it in." Chet frowned
as he followed him. "It's not a nice day, it's a frosty one."

"But the sun's out. And there's no wind." Johnny grinned.

"I like it tropical." Chet groused. 

The sound of a frozen palm frond landing on the roof made
all of them look up. "See, our palm trees out there are agreeing 
with me." 

Gage shrugged and broke out the coffee.

Marco, was already cooking morning tacos. The heady spices almost
made the others forget their futile sojourn to the rec room during
the night.

Cap raised his eyebrows. "Chores before we eat?"

"Yeah, I want to digest a little, peacefully, afterwards, if I'm 
going to gorge." said Stoker.

Hank laughed. "Okay, Mike you got the bathrooms. Roy and Johnny,
the mopping. Chet, take out the trash."

Kelly celebrated. "That's short. I'm so on it." he said, moving to
the sink and the can under it. He pulled out the bag and tied it
shut. "Marco, extra jalapenos on mine if you wouldn't mind."

Lopez smiled. "Coming right up." he said, stirring the meat.

Chet left the kitchen for the apparatus bay. He picked up
the trash from next to the engine and the bio hazard bag
from near the squad and he struggled to open the rear 
side door with his free foot. 

He finally made it outside, making his way into the backyard
blindly.

A soft weight snagged both of this shoes and he nearly pitched
forward onto his face. "What th-?" he startled, tossing away
the heavy load to save himself as he pinwheeled.

Kelly looked down, wondering what the debris was that had
tangled him. He gasped, soundless. 

It was a half grown child, wrapped in part of the tarp that
used to be on the old engine in the backyard. She was bundled
poorly, soaking wet, and unconscious. Her skin was blue.

"Hey! Are you okay?" He shook her shoulder, and found
all of her muscles stiff. She stayed silent.

"Oh, sh--" he swore. "Guys, get out here on the double!"
he shouted, crouching down to roll her carefully over onto
her back. "We've got ourselves a runaway. Looks like 
she's been out here all night!"  His fingers tipped back her
head and chin as he listened for active breath sounds.

There were none. 

"Sh*t." Kelly said, beginning mouth to mouth. 
"Guys! Grab the gear!"

Her throat was so cold, Chet wasn't sure if she still
had a pulse.

Hank and the others flew out of the rear garage door
when it suddenly activated from the hit switch. Their arms
were soon heavily laden with medical equipment.

Johnny and Roy rushed over. "Cap! It's a young teenager.
Fourteen or so.  Might be hypothermia." he said, bending 
down over her and looking at her eyes quickly.

Kelly began to talk, fast, when Stoker took over ventilations
on the girl for him with a demand valve. "I can't find a pulse. 
It might not be there."

Gage sighed. "They're reactive. She hasn't been down 
that long. D*mn, is she icy! Might be too cold to shock 
if she's actually arrested." Johnny said, carefully searching 
for a beat at her neck. 

"I'll call it in. Marco, go grab the stuff out of the dryer. We
need to warm her up asap." Cap ordered.

Johnny shook his head in frustration. "Still can't find it. But
she's supple." he said, straightening up to place a
hand on her sternum for C.P.R. 

"Wait a minute. Open her shirt. I'll scope her." Roy told 
him, breaking out the defibrillator paddles. He turned on the 
machine.

Cap and Johnny ripped the stained clothes away from the girl's 
chest and Kelly rapidly dried the frost off her skin with one of the 
steaming blankets Marco had grabbed from the running dryer 
just inside the rear bay doors.

The datascope whined into life and Roy turned a knob to
passive read when the monitor fired up. He placed the paddles
into position and pressed down. "Artifact.. She's still too wet."
he said, pulling them off. 

Cap and Chet scrubbed harder, and firmer with the hot wool.

"Okay, hold it. Hold it." DeSoto said as Johnny fumbled for 
a stethoscope out of the I.V. box. Roy tried another reading. 

Everybody started holding their breath.

DeSoto blinked.
"She's idioventricular at twenty. But it's not effective enough. 
Start CPR. But go easy. Her heart's so chilled, it might stop.
Somebody get a temp on her. Don't jar her unnecessarily."

Marco started compressions carefully, timing them with Stoker's
thumb triggered breaths on the resuscitator, so he didn't prevent 
any chest rise when it came.

Gage pulled his listening drum away from her ribcage. "I can barely 
hear it. It's weak, irregular."

Hank got up and ran for the alcove. "L.A. This is Captain Stanley.
We've a still alarm at our locaton. Roll an ambulance and P.D
to Station 51's backyard. Our victim's a minor."
-------------------------------------------------------------------------

Photo:  Storm laced beach and palms.

Photo:   The gang reading in the kitchen.

Photo:  Johnny getting snipey.

Photo:   Roy amused close up.

Animated gif:  Cup of hot cocoa.

Photo:   Station 51's backyard.

Photo:   An unconscious girl on a lawn.

Photo:   Chet giving mouth to mouth to a girl.

Photo:    Johnny examining a passed out girl.

Photo:     Cap in the back yard.

Photo:   A worried Marco in the backyard.

Photo:    Roy rubbing paddles together.

Photo:    Scoping out an EKG using paddles.

Photo:    Roy and Johnny treating girl near squad.

**************************************************
From :  patti keiper <pattik1@hotmail.com> 
Sent :  Thursday, July 19, 2007 2:47 PM 
Subject :  The Icy Edge... 

Hank jogged back to the others, after turning on the laundry 
sink next to the mop cupboard, filling its basin with hot water.

"We've got to get her inside, Cap, and off this cold ground." 
Roy said.

"Chet, go grab a long board. Rush it." Hank ordered.

Kelly left at a run, tossing a pair of clothes shears onto the girl's 
stomach. "Those are your sharpest ones." he said. 

Roy picked up the scissors and began cutting away all of the 
chilled girl's soggy wet sweater, jeans and underclothes. "Also 
throw some of our picnic hot packs into the sink. Bring a bucket 
of hot water, too!" he yelled after Chet.

"I'll get that internal temp reading." said Cap, kneeling in the grass. 
He reached into the trauma box for a rectal thermometer. He shook 
his head in dismay as he looked down. "She's dehydrating already." 
he said, noticing a large pool of dilute urine leaving her body.

Gage swore. "D*mn. Her core's probably below 32°C. Cap,
take it anyway to confirm that. What it is will determine what we
can do. Rampart's gonna wanna know where she's at to start."

DeSoto picked up the biophone and carried it to the open floor
space inside the garage behind the rescue squad. He turned
on the garage heaters, full blast. Then he went back outside
for the rest of their gear. Thinking ahead, he tossed a couple
of I.V. bags of saline solution into the full steaming bucket Chet 
set against the wall nearest him, along with a couple of 100 ml 
bolus syringes, still in their wrappers.

Together, all six of the gang got the blanketed girl bundled onto
the wooden board for the trip into the station. 

"I got a bunch of thermal packs soaking." Chet told Roy, getting
out of Marco and Stoker's way as the girl was set down onto
the concrete for a resumption of CPR.

Roy hit the close switch on the garage door to shut out the cold.
"Get them out as soon as they're bathwater temp and set them
around her groin, under axilla and along both sides of her neck."
DeSoto ordered. "Cover her trunk and head up again. But don't 
rewarm her arms and legs yet."

Cap pulled out the thermometer, and read it against the lightbulb
of Gage's penlight.  "89.6°F."

"That's severe." Gage told him. "Okay. Thanks." and he
opened a channel to the hospital. He glanced at his partner,
who had finished rigging up and sticking on electrodes for a fast 
EKG strip. "How's she doing now?"

Roy sighed as he worked on checking and rechecking connections.
"Still no palpable pulse. She demonstrating Osborn waves, irregular
T wave inversions and a prolongation of PR, QRS, and QT intervals.
That ineffective rhythm's now ten." DeSoto replied.

"Let me see.." Johnny asked as he waited for a reply back.

Chet turned the monitor until Johnny could read the screen.
"At least it's not atrioventricular or anything agonal." Gage said.

"Point in her favor." Roy agreed. "Make your compressions lighter,
Marco. We don't want to move too much of that chilled blood around.
She doesn't need a lot of oxygen right now. Just a bit of perfusion 
to correct her chemical imbalances until we warm her up again."

"Okay." said Lopez, frowning as he began easing the CPR into 
shallower repetitions. "Sorry. I forgot for a moment."

"You're doing fine." Roy smiled, as he checked the girl for a pulse.
It came only with Marco's compressions. "She's not critically cold.
We can reverse this fairly quickly if being chilled is her only problem."

Reassured, Marco relaxed, nodding. His efforts smoothed out. 

Stoker heard a knocking at the side door and looked up from where
he was working on ventilating the girl with the demand valve. "It's the 
police. I think it's Vince."

"I'll get him." said Cap and soon, the traffic cop was striding towards them.
Rapidly, Hank filled Vince in on the situation.

Vince nodded. "Okay, Hank. I'll call a judge to have her put in protective 
custody. As for treatment authorization, just my being here's good enough.
I'm all you need for that. This is life threatening."
 
Johnny tossed his head in satisfaction when the biophone came to life.

##Unit calling in, please repeat.## said Dr. Brackett over the landline.

"Rampart, this is Squad 51. We've a fourteen year old female. Unconscious
after what we believe was exposure to the cold all last night. No shock was advised
on monitor, but there were no vitals signs palpable, even after a check of a minute 
or two. We've an unorganized ventricular rate around ten with J-waves. CPR,
oxygen administration, and rewarming measures are in progress. Core 
temperature is reading at 89.6°F, with reactive pupils. Uh, she's also showing 
signs of active cold diuresis."

##All right, 51. Maintain her respiratory resuscitation rate and CPR as normal, but 
increase the duration of your pulse checks to 30 seconds. Insert an endotrachael
tube to guarantee that airway. That intubation won't put her at any more risk of 
ventricular fibrillation than normothermic patients from vagal stimulation. She's
already too slow. Obtain a vascular route and administer a fluid bolus of 300 ml 
warmed NS, from a 1000 ml bag. Be sure to shake it well to avoid hot spots.
If she develops atrial fibrillation, atrial flutter, PVCs, or atrioventricular block, 
don't treat her at all. Specifically, don't give atropine and don't use the pacemaker
setting on your defibrillator. If she goes into V-fib or pulseless V-tach once
she's a little warmer, defibrillate one time at 200 joules. I'll authorize 
350 mg of bretylium slow IV push only if that ventricular rhythm looks like its gonna
degenerate. Send me a strip. I want to confirm your findings.##

"10-4, Rampart, sending you a strip." Gage replied.

Roy relayed their telemetry, gesturing for Marco and Stoker to pause CPR
for those fifteen seconds.

Brackett spoke up again. ## Good call starting CPR. That's not an organized 
enough rhythm. We'll perform bypass rewarming once she gets here.
Insulate her to prevent further heat loss and keep her completely horizontal.
If she's still losing that fluid aggressively, go ahead and repeat that heated
bolus as often as necessary, until you end it. Let's consider her blood glucose
and treat accordingly. Test her levels. If she lapses into asystole, use CPR 
only. Her liver's too cold to metabolize ALS drugs. Attempt temporary 
ventricular pacing once she's warmer than 90°F to support the heart rate if it is 
still slow enough then, to impair hemodynamics. Bring her in gently, 51.##

Gage rubbed his forehead as he recited back their orders, word for word.

The gang fell silently busy, trying to save the young runaway's life.

-----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

The doors of the Emergency Room burst open.

Dixie McCall and Dr. Brackett met Johnny and Roy as they wheeled
in their hypothermic teenager. Kel noticed right away that CPR wasn't
being done. "What's she at?" he asked.

Gage continued to steer the bed rapidly toward the dialysis room they
were headed for. "She's breathing, but in AIVR. Thirty five at the carotid 
with an occasional beat palpated at the brachial." 

"Did you need to sync?"

"No, she seems to be coming out of it a bit." Roy replied.

Kel eyed their monitor as they hurried down the hall.
"That's more like it. Temperature? Glucose?" Dr. Brackett said.

"91.0 °F and 80." Roy answered.

"Okay.." Brackett said as the entered the stabe room they had set up.
"Dixie.. I want some blood tests. The complete workup. Also cardiac enzymes.
There's still the possibility of acute myocardial infarction if she's a drug user.
I want to check her renal status with a BUN and creatinine. If she proves
to be a previous heart patient, this accelerated idioventricular rate may be
due to prescription digoxin toxicity. Get a chemistry panel, including electrolytes,
and a magnesium level." 

McCall nodded, accepting the chart he had just signed."Right away, Kel."

Johnny locked her bed wheels and switched over her O2 while Roy traded
out the outdoors cooled blankets for fresh hot ones from trauma room's 
autoclave. "What do you want us to do, doc?" Gage asked, keeping a hand 
on the girl's neck pulse.

"Let's try increasing her sinus rate with atropine. She's finally warm enough.
Administer 1.2 mg IV. If that doesn't work, we'll try Isoproterenol in a 0.5 
mcg/min drip with further pacing." Dr. Brackett told them.

-----------------------------------------------------------------------

Twenty minutes later, Roy and Johnny left the treatment room
and headed for Dixie's desk for much welcomed cups of hot coffee.

Johnny leaned heavily on the desk and scrubbed his hair with both sets
of fingers. "Man, I'm sure glad she's gonna make it. That was too close."

Roy crossed his arms together. "Yeah. But it kind of makes you wonder
what she was doing out there in the yard in the first place, doesn't it?"

Gage sighed, looking miserable. "We heard her, you know. She must
have been the reason for all that pounding on the wall last night."

DeSoto shook his head. "No, that was definitely the tree branch. That
knocking wasn't coming from the back of the garage. It was loudest
in the kitchen."

Johnny looked at him. "That still leaves us with a mystery. Why did she
come looking for help from us in the middle of the night?"

"Maybe she didn't." DeSoto whispered. "You know how suicidals can
get."

Gage frowned, and pushed away his mug without touching it.
 
-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Photo:  Roy and Johnny working on a girl in the yard.

 Photo:  Roy intently treating someone.

Photo:   An unconscious teen on the grass.

Photo:  Brackett answering a rescue call.

Photo:  Gage working on a patient, bending close.

Photo:  Fingers injecting fluid into an I.V. port. 

Photo:  A backboarded femaled getting CPR. 

Photo:  Gage with a female patient hurrying down hall.

Photo:  Roy and Johnny looking morose, in jackets. 

**************************************************
From: Patti or Jeff or Cassidy <theaterhost@voyagerliveaction.com> 
Date: Tue Aug 14, 2007 8:40 am 
Subject: The Face From The Past.. 

Johnny got out of the squad seconds after Roy
was through backing it into the vehicle bay and tried
not to look at the pool of drying water still staining
the concrete floor behind them where the teen girl
had lain. A plugged in PPV hadn't yet dried the spot out
completely.

"It's only four hours to lunch time, but I'm not even
hungry yet." he grumbled to Roy. 

"Why not? We didn't lose her. And Brackett said
that she was almost waking up when we walked
by her treatment room and peeked back in, remember?" 
Roy rejoined, looking surprised as he leaned on the hood 
of the rescue truck, regarding Johnny with a look.

"It's not the fact that we saved her, Roy. It's the fact that
she even needing saving to begin with. I mean, what kind
of legal guardian would let a girl her age get out in the 
middle of the night and into so much trouble like that?"

Roy studied Johnny's worried face thoughtfully.
"Speaking as a parent, you can't watch your kids every
single moment of the day. It's impossible. You have to sleep,
work, go to the grocery store, what have you. And I can only
imagine what it's gonna be like when my kids get to be her age.
I'm sure both of them are going to be chafing at the bit to get
out a little to see friends and the city sights. Quite frankly, I'm
not looking forward to that time at all."

Gage stopped rubbing his face wearily. "Why not?"

DeSoto smiled. "Because it means that Joanne and I will be
letting go a little more, and getting less involved with their lives. 
Especially when they start asking for those hours of independence. 
It'll be time away from us as a family." he sighed. "Changes like that, 
our friends with teenagers are saying, can make you feel a little out 
of the loop at times."

"Yeah, well, this young girl fell completely out of somebody's loop
and it's making me real mad if you really want to know."

That admission, didn't surprise Roy in the least. He had seen the
internal storm in his partner brewing the whole way back from the hospital.
"We've done all we can, Johnny. Now it's up to the courts and the
legal system to determine where she'll end up again once she's better.
If she's truly a runaway, it could be just hormones acting on her. She
may have a perfectly decent set of parents out there somewhere who
are worried just as sick about her, as you are." DeSoto grinned, winking
at his partner. "So don't fret too much."

Gage made a face. "I'm not worried about her I'm-- Okay so I'm a little
concerned. Geez, Roy, she almost died out there, a few feet away from
a whole fire station full of paramedics, firefighters, and rescue gear."

Kelly walked by on his way to the showers. He was sweaty from a heavy
workout with the station's barbells. "Never get emotionally involved with
a victim, Johnny. Don't they tell you that in all the paramedic manuals
or something?" he quipped as he went through the lockerroom doors
and out of the garage.

Johnny snapped. "Why don't you just shut up and mind your own
business here. Can't you see that Roy and I are debriefing?" he shouted 
after him.

"No. Sounds like you're drowning, Gage." came Kelly's voice.

Johnny's mouth flopped open, and a world of insult began rising in him
at the rejoiner. He started after Chet.

But then Roy gestured. "Leave him be. He doesn't know the whole
story. Come on, let's grab that cup of coffee you never had, to settle 
your nerves a little. And let's add plenty of sugar to it, too. Believe it or 
not, you ARE getting hungry. I can tell."

"My stomach's not growling.." Johnny complained.

"No, but your mood is. Humor me a little." Roy told him as they began
walking by the wall map in the garage for the hallway into the rec room.
"And drink up a whole lot."

----------------------------------------------------------------------------

Cap and the others looked up from the magazines
they were reading in the kitchen.  "How's she doing?" Hank asked.
The tone of his voice was a little eager, coated most likely because
he was a father of children himself. 

"Better. Headed for a complete recovery." Roy said. "Now all they have
to do is determine whether or not she's suffered nerve damage from
being cold for so long before we found her. Brain damage won't factor
into it at all, because that chill was protecting her even as it deepened
and began effecting her heart rate and her limb muscles. That rare 
frost was pretty light this morning. So frostbite's not an issue."

Hank's mouth fell open. "That's a relief.  Have they I.D.'d her yet?"

"Not yet." said Gage, eagerly spooning in his fourth scoop of sugar into
his coffee mug. He elaborately began stirring the mounded pile of crystals
floating at the top, until they were dissolved enough for drinking. "It's gonna
take a while if she decides on not telling anyone who she is." he
said thoughtfully, thinking. The rim of his cup had almost reached his lips
when a sudden idea struck, causing him to abandon it onto the table. "Say,
Cap. Can I use your phone?"

Stanley nodded, still petting Henry. "In my office?"

"Yeah."

"Is this personal? Or for business?"

"Definitely the latter, Cap."

"Okay, go ahead. Make an entry into the log about using it
and briefly about why for the books."

"I will. Thanks. Great.." said Gage distractedly. The others
barely heard him mumble as he hurried out of the room.
"I can't just sit around here waiting for events to unfold
on their own. She's just a kid."

"Uh, oh.." DeSoto said, once he was gone. He hadn't heard
Johnny's comment. He didn't need to. Gage's new, odd, 
behavior alone was enough to set off warning bells.

"Uh, oh. What?" Hank said, getting pulled away from his
stocks page. 

DeSoto shook his head. "Never mind. I'm not sure what he's up to
now and it's probably none of my business for even asking."

Hank was mentally sharp. "Is this involving that girl we just treated 
this morning?"

Roy didn't want to say anything. But his face gave him away.

"That's not like Johnny at all to act like that about a patient." Marco remarked.

Stoker nodded in agreement. "He's a little too attached to his victim,
and he's gonna fall."

"No, he won't. He's just trying to help." Roy said to them. "Every paramedic's
gotta learn sometime that having close emotional ties to a patient 
only hurts him in the long run. That's why that rule is there. I learned it, eventually."
he frowned, thinking back on his own past personal battle with the concept.

Hank sighed. "If and when this starts effecting his job, then I'll step in and 
say something about it directly. Roy, I'm holding you to tell me immediately
if this whole deal begins to hamper him on other calls. Last thing I want to 
see is a hesitant crewman about anything, you hear me?" he asked firmly, worried.

DeSoto nodded. "I understand, Cap. You'll be the first to know." he said aloud.
Whispering, to himself, he added. "Right after me." 

-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

In Cap's office, Johnny Gage picked up the phone and dialed the first person
on his mind. Dixie McCall, at Rampart.

"Hey, Dix. It's Johnny. How's that girl we brought in this morning.. uh huh.. uh huh.
What else can you tell me? I mean, without getting yourself or me, in a whole
heap of trouble. Dixie, please, this is important. I think I might know her from 
before I moved to California. You see, I think she's one of my tribe members." 
he began.

On the other end of the line, Dixie grew serious and caretaker eager. 
##Tell me what you know already and we'll go from there.## she promised. 
##So far, the police have had no luck with obtaining any information at all. 
It's like she's not on anybody's records anywhere.##

"That's because she's from the reservation. We don't give our birth records
to the U.S. government until a federal crime's been committed and someone 
needs to be investigated about it officially. We're our own sovereign nation."

##I get it, Johnny. Now spill the beans. We need her medical records to
find out whether or not she's a drug abuser or has a cardiac history. You heard
Dr. Brackett. Knowing a positive about either of those two things will have
a lot of bearing on how fast she recovers from her ordeal and whether or
not she has to be treated further for cardiological or chemical side effects.##
said McCall.

"Okay, okay. I called you, didn't I? Now hush up for a few seconds, please. 
This isn't easy for me at all. Because I know I'm going around 
some real heavy duty tribal laws here just talking to you about her.
I think her name's Yellowbird. First name, Joy. I used to see her at the
community center for prayer sessions every Friday. At the time, she was 
being raised by her grandmother, Dawn Sister Yellowbird. Both Joy's parents 
are dead. They both died from... alcohol abuse. Everyone believes their cross 
nationality marriage didn't turn out so well because Joy was born too early." he 
admitted reluctantly. "This information is from six years ago."

##Okay, Johnny. I'll get right on this. I'll say to the police that you were
an anonymous tip called into the hospital. Lord knows enough people
in the hallway and waiting room saw her rushed in here today to support
that particular angle. Do you have the main contact number for your 
reservation? I'll call there myself asking for Dawn as an official emergency 
phone call on behalf of Joy.##

Johnny gripped the phone even more tightly. "Thanks, Dixie. It means lot to
me to get her some more help as fast as possible.  I guess it's because I 
know what it's like not to have any parents around. I was raised by my aunt. 
Home's in Florida. And the direct tribal council's number is.."

--------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

The tones went off twenty minutes later, and Roy noticed that Johnny
was jumpier than a cat in a rainstorm when they did. He didn't say
anything as he got behind the wheel and buckled in. He watched
Johnny write down their response address as it came over the
speaker grill. "You ready?" he asked.

"As ready as I'll ever be." Gage said, not meaning the upcoming
rescue call.

##Station 51, Engine 36, Ladder truck 10. Vehicle over a cliff. 
Southbound 405 and Avenida at mile marker 16. Southbound 405 and 
Avenida at mile marker 16. CHP is on scene, reporting light smoke, with 
a single driver injury.Time out : 0956. Copter two is en route as a new
brush fire spotter.##

Chet and the others came running and they got into their turnout coats
and boarded the engine. "Station 51, KMG 365." replied Mike Stoker, 
using an HT laying on his driver's seat.

Cap broke over Roy and Johnny's console radio on a private, truck to 
truck band. ##Maybe the hillside's still wet enough from all the rain we got 
last night. Once we get there, help lay down two inch and halves before 
getting into rappelling gear. Fire danger assessment's first if smoke's
definitely showing.##

"10-4, Cap. Assure scene safety. " replied Gage as he fastened his 
helmet onto his head. "Has L.A. given you a victim update yet?"

##Not yet. Those officers are away from their bikes with their
hands full. Their dispatch channel's been real quiet. The only word
is that they're down a steep hill, close in, with the victim.##

"Okay. Thanks. Switching back to main." Johnny said, turning the radio
back to L.A.'s active response channel for that part of the county.

Roaring into the growing white light of a storm clearing sky, Station 51 
turned left to head down Wilmington Avenue towards its first freeway 
access ramp. 

------------------------------------------------------------

Photo:  Roy looking worried in the vehicle bay.

Photo:   Gage acting insistent in the garage.

Photo:    Cap questioning in the kitchen.

Photo:   Johnny on the payphone.

Photo:    Dixie on the desk phone.

Photo:    Station 51 pulling out.

Photo:   Los Angeles County freeway.
 
*******************************************************************
From :  patti keiper <pattik1@hotmail.com> 
Sent :  Thursday, August 16, 2007 2:48 AM 
Subject :  [EmergencyTheaterLive] Moment of Gravity 


Engine 51 was the first Ward on the scene. Engine 36, from
their sister station along Wilmington Avenue, had not yet arrived.
Cap stepped out of the cab and was immediately met by a highway
patrol officer as Roy and Johnny, gathered, too, sliding into their
duty turnouts. "What have we got?" DeSoto asked the CHiP lieutenant.

The highway patrolman said. "A green Chevy. Lost control and rolled
about forty yards into the canyon. Better hurry. A fire's started and 
my partner and I haven't been able to get him out."

"All right. We'll take it from here." said Hank, peering over the grassy
fringe of the embankment. The report about an active burn was no
longer a hopeful myth. A white smoke column was growing far below,
marking the place where the crashed car had come to rest.

"How bad is he?" Gage asked, completing his pulling anchor on a 
hose loop around an overgrown freeway hydrant station as Stoker 
pulled the engine forward to unravel two large lengths of double 
thickness brush hose.

"He's alive, but pinned in. Both doors are jammed. We haven't been
able to get them open." replied Officer Jon Baker.

"Smells like the undercarriage is catching." said Chet as he rushed by
with rappelling ropes to tie off on the engine's front bumper.

"It is." said Baker. "We tried to put it out but our fire extinguishers
weren't big enough to finish the job before they ran out."

"Thanks for trying. Now get yourself and your partner out of there. You're
not geared up to handle fire." said Hank.

Baker got on his hand held mic connected to his motorcycle and he 
called down the hill. "Seven Mary Three to Seven Mary Four. Pull out. 
The FD's here."

##In a bit! I think I almost got him free!## came a hasty reply with the full,
angry sound of hungry flame crackles behind Frank Poncherello's voice. 

Stanley frowned. He knew this particular highway patrol officer. And he 
knew the man's penchant for rescue recklessness. "Roy, Johnny. Go. 
That's Ponch. And he's not listening again. Get him out of there now. 
Then see what you can do for the driver with hand tools. We'll follow 
you down with our two lines as fast as we can."

Kelly darted to each of the paramedics and tied on life lines to their rope 
belts. "Cap, 36's is here. And I saw Truck 10 doing a U-turn northbound 
for our ramp."

"Okay, pal. Music to my ears. Grab Johnny's rope. I'll get DeSoto's." Cap 
ordered. Then he lifted his handy talkie. "L.A. Engine 51. Speed up all 
responding crews. The grass around our car has fully ignited. Send a full 
brush assignment to Topeka Canyon, mile marker 16."

##10-4. Wind direction is S.S.E. at twelve. Temperature is 82°F. Dewpoint 
is 64°F. Relative humidity at your location is 30 %## said L.A.

"Copy, on the update." Hank replied back. "I confirm your conditions."

Roy and Johnny never even heard Cap. They just flipped their descent 
ropes around the snags in the way as they hurried down the hill with a pry 
bar and axe for windshield shattering, and a pair of fire extinguishers they 
had snatched from the squad.

Johnny began shouting as they bounced downhill in a rapid rappel. "Hey! 
Poncherello! Back away from there! Didn't you hear Baker yelling at ya?!"

They got to the upside down car and found it fully aflame. Frank was 
tugging desperately on a car door, trying to shield his hands and face 
from the heat of the flames shooting up from the underside of the car's 
leaking oil line. "He's gonna burn if we don't open it now!" Frank replied 
urgently.

Roy shoved himself in front of Frank and forced the officer away with a 
firm backwards lean as he bit down with a long prybar into the hinge of the 
crushed driver's door. "We see that. Now get away from these sparks. Your 
uniform'll catch in seconds if you stay in this close. Go grab a stokes if you 
wanna help us."

"In a pico!" said Ponch, bounding up the hill. He pulled himself up 
rapidly along Johnny's taut rope. 

Fire was rising along the car's underside, inching forward.
Gage smashed the glass he could reach and he wormed his way
inside the car quickly to reach their victim. The man started screaming 
when he felt the sharp heat of hot metal begin to sear the side of him
that was still trapped under a twisted car seat and touching the door frame. 
He began to flail about, in a panic.

Johnny grabbed his face to hold him still after snuffing out the intense 
sparks that were landing on them both. Roy struggled at the door with 
the bar with all of his strength, working above them. "Just take it easy! 
We won't let that fire reach you!" Johnny promised.

The face bloodied, groggy older man in his grip just sagged, finally 
becoming quieter, moaning confusedly at the thought of actual rescue 
and from some overwhelming pain. He didn't even flinch when a sharp
blast of carbon dioxide from Roy's extinguisher flooded in to cool
the metal around him.

"Hey mister. Can you hear me? Where are you hurting the most?" 
Gage shouted loudly, holding the driver's shoulders protectively with 
his gloves. Johnny ducked sharply at every flame that licked inside their
tiny crumpled space.

The man didn't reply and suddenly lapsed into unconsciousness.

At a particularly bad surge of fire, Johnny yelled aloud. "Agh! Roy, where
are they?!"

"They're coming. I just got Stoker on the radio saying they're heading 
right for us." DeSoto shouted back. "This is stuck real good. I can't 
budge it!"

"Looks like we have no choice. Roy get down here. We'll pull him out
through the windshield hole. He's free!" he grunted, pulling the man's legs
straight from where they were folded.

A loud rumble of falling rock alerted them and the car lurched, suddenly
teetering as a weak point in the storm loosened hillside gave way.

Johnny shot out of the burning car and to his feet. Panicking, they gripped
the edge of the car as it oscillated sickeningly on a cliff edge they hadn't
been aware was nearby because of the smoke. Desperately, they hung
on to the automobile's frame until its unsteady motion stopped. 

DeSoto gasped. "Now get him out! I'll stabilize this for as long as I can." he 
said, clinging to the steaming metal with his gloved hands.

Gingerly, Gage let go of the side. The car shifted slightly, but then it held,
with only falling dirt to announce its precarious position on the hill.

Johnny scrambled, breathless, back into the car, this time getting in through
the windshield that he had smashed open a few minutes earlier.

An incoherent shout from Roy gave him a warning he couldn't ignore.
Gage grabbed their victim gracelessly by the collar and hauled backwards,
straining, until his dead weight began to slide out into the tall grass that
was slowly igniting all around them. Johnny grabbed the rest of the folded
man as his upper half cleared the car into a bear hug under the arms, pulling 
with every ounce of muscle he had, first freeing his head, then his shoulders.

But in seconds, it happened. The car....fell.

Roy shouted in frustration and worry, as he leaped backwards into the clear, 
calling for his partner.

"I got him! We're over here!" Johnny yelled from a torn clump of towering pampas
grass. 

A hissing sound of covering water began as a charging Chet met them on
the slope with his fire hose. "Oh, my gosh. Are you guys okay? We saw it go!"

"We're fine." gasped Roy, thoroughly exhausted as he crouched by Gage as
they checked to see if the driver was still breathing. "I think."

"That guy must be pretty busted up inside after a tumble like that one, I'll bet."
How is he doing?" Kelly asked as he redirected his stream to join Stoker's in 
combating the growing brush fire that had been started by the burning car.

Johnny didn't answer, feeling sick to his stomach. "Roy, I had to pull him
hard. I had no choice."

"Worry about that later. If you hadn't, he would have been dead." DeSoto
reassured him. "Cap? We need our stokes and spinal gear!" he yelled up
hill.

"On the way. 36's bringing just the basics. I want the three of you out
of here before things get out of hand even worse." Hank said about the raging
brush fire.

Roy glanced up and into a wall of flame barely being held at bay by a double
water curtain. "You don't have to tell me twice." he said wholeheartedly as
he and Johnny worked carefully to straighten their limp victim into anatomical
alignment enough for a guarded log roll to check for heavy bleeding.
"He's still got a strong pulse." he told Stanley in an update.

Leaning over, Johnny inserted an oral airway into the man's mouth so he could
breathe unimpended on his back. "Roy, he's got multiple fractures. Left arm,
lower left leg, right arm. And I still don't think I've found them all."

"How's his head?" DeSoto asked, quickly tying off a blood stopper around 
a fast flowing wound on their patient's foot. He didn't ask the other questions
that usually followed the first. They both knew that movement probably had
already risked the man's spinal cord if it was injured anywhere along its length.

"No depressions. But he's got a deep bruise behind both ears." Johnny replied.

"Battle's sign?"

"Yeah." Gage said.

"Okay, let's get him outta here pronto." Cap gestured, shouting over the roar of
the growing fire.

Marco, and a team from the other fire truck companies quickly immobilized
the driver with a cervical collar, and longboard on top of an uninflated mast suit 
swiftly, so they could make good a strategic escape from the hillside fire that
was beginning to blow fiercely with spreading thermal effects. 

It quickly outgrew the two fire hoses.

"Everybody, let's get out of here on the double!"  Cap ordered.
"We're out of time."

-----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
On the side of the freeway, Hank made for the biophone while a very sooty
Chet ran to grab out the resuscitator, and other medical gear, for Roy
and Johnny.  Cars were already absent as the cordoned off section of
the highway was buffered away from danger by the Highway Patrol.

Nearby, Ponch and Jon stood by their motorcycles and a semi they had
shanghai'd into being a wind block for a flames created gale that was
effecting the rescue squad site.

Far below, the fire continued to rage. But soon, its chaotic destruction
was being met with swift water drops from two fire department choppers.

Captain Stanley spoke aloud into the phone receiver. "Rampart, this
is Engine 51. How do you read?"

-------------------------------------------------------------------------------


Photo:  Cap and Stoker peering downhill by the engine.

Photo:  Roy and Johnny looking down into a canyon.

Photo:  A CHiPs officer fighting to open a burning car.

Photo:  Roy talking with a CHiP officer by the engine.

Photo:  Officer Jon Baker, CHiP Highway Patrol Officer.

Photo:  Johnny checking out a wounded driver.

Photo:  Roy and Johnny fighting to hold a falling burning car.

Photo:  Gage dragging away a wounded man in brush.

Photo:  A threatening grass fire.

Photo:  The gang long boarding a crash victim.

Photo:  Cap on the biophone.

**************************************************
From: "patti keiper" <pattik1@hotmail.com> 
Date: Thu Aug 16, 2007 1:05 pm 
Subject: Ties That Bind.. 

##Go ahead, Engine 51.## said Dixie McCall from the hospital.

"Rampart, we've a male victim aged in his middle fifties. He's been
extricated from a rollover crash over an embankment. Stand by
for vital signs." said Stanley.

##I'm standing by, 51.## she replied.  

---------------------------------------------------------------------------

Rubbing her chin, Dixie thumbed a silver button on the wall to hail 
an operator on intercom.  "Yes, this is Miss McCall in Emergency. 
Page a doctor to the base station. Stat. We've a multiple trauma 
case coming in. Thanks." she said.

A few seconds later, she heard her announcement read overhead 
as she moved Station 51's status board magnets to the 'on scene' 
square of the hot board.

##Dr. Brackett to Emergency at the base station. Dr. Brackett to
Emergency at the base station. Stat.## said the operator.

Kel hurried to McCall's side a minute later, still in the scrubs he 
had worn for another procedure. "What is it, Dix? That sounded 
urgent."

"It is, Kel. A multiple trauma with 51's.  They've got a man they've just 
rescued from an automobile after it tumbled down a cliff." she replied, 
handing him the time stamped notes she had begun.

Brackett made a face and a noise of sympathy. "Rough. Okay, I got
this from here. Would you go meet Vince and sign some paperwork concerning
the Yellowbird girl? There are some state agencies looking for her information.
And nice job learning who she is. We had her medical records in our greedy
little hands in no time at all." he grinned, as she turned to go out of the
glassed in communications room. "How'd you manage it?"

"I got lucky. Someone decided to step forward despite getting a possible rap."

"Anybody she knows?" Kel asked.

Dixie hid her reaction, tightly. "Probably." she answered noncommittally as
she closed the door behind herself without looking at him. Her evasion
escaped him completely.

Brackett turned to wait for a reply back, leaning on his hands in anticipation.

----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
Roy DeSoto looked up from the blood pressure he was taking on the
rescued driver. "It's down. 68 over 40. Get those mast trousers on. His 
pelvis and femurs aren't fractured." he ordered the gang hovering near him.
"Cap, pulse is 46 and regular, respirations are shallow."

Poncherello stood watching Hank as he wrote down the vital signs 
Roy was relaying to him. "Any sign of alcohol?" he asked. 

DeSoto looked up, startled. "What? Uh,..no. None."

"Well how about needle marks? He must have been on something if
he crashed his car without even braking. There're no tire marks over there."
he shrugged, pointing.

Gage lost his temper. "Listen, Ponch. I don't want to be rude or anything.
But please stop interfering with our medical call. We'll try to get all the
information everybody needs just as fast as we can. All right?"

"Sure. No problem. I thought I was helping out again. You know me."
Frank smiled amicably, but then his smile disappeared. "How about
looking for his wallet?"

"Later." said Roy, without turning around, quickly cutting away the man's
shirt and pants for the team quickly fastening up the mast suit's velcro
straps and stop cocks. "His back's clear, Johnny. I don't feel any
dislocations."

Gage nodded, letting out the breath he was holding as he connected up
the EKG monitor. "Let's keep on hoping. He's built like an ox." Then he
leaned over and peered a light into the man's nose, eyes, ears and mouth
around the airway and mask Marco was monitoring with suction. "There's
cerebral spinal fluid in the right ear. It's staining yellow." he said, holding
up the testing 4 X 4 he had used to clean up other cuts he had found on
the man's head. "Pupil is dilated on that side and he's doll's eyes negative. 
They didn't track at all when we rolled him. He's ipsilateral."  

"I'll get his lung sounds. Marco, is he breathing okay?" Roy asked.

"A bit slow. But his color's still good." Lopez answered.

"Watch for vomiting. He may have an occipital skull fracture." Roy told him.
"Once the others get through pumping up that last chamber on the suit, go
ahead and elevate the head of his longboard onto a gear box or something
high. His brain's starting to swell. See how his eyes are getting swollen?"

"Yeah." Lopez replied, frowning. "What are his chances?"

"That'll depend on his surgeon and just how bad that crack in his head reacts
inside. If he develops just an epidural hematoma, we're in luck. But if that
bleeding's gone deeper, into the subdural layers.." his voice trailed off. 

"I'll vent carefully once he needs it." Lopez promised, repositioning the 
demand valve over the man's mouth and nose a little tighter so he could 
draw in better breaths of pure oxygen on his own.

Gage quickly palpated the man's large sized abdomen and found a hot pulsing
mass under his fingers just below the navel. "Whoa.. Roy. I think I got something
else." Quickly, he motioned for the others to stop pumping up the mast suit.
"I've found a huge triple A. Right here. I can feel it overlapping his spine
right behind his liver." Reaching lower under the suit, Johnny quickly compared 
both of their patient's femoral pulses. "They're grossly different, Roy, by far."

Cap overheard the news about an unruptured aneurysm and sighed. "So
he's no longer a flight candidate. Okay, cancelling the helicopter. L.A., this
is Engine 51. Respond an immediate ambulance to our location. Our 
patient has been flight contraindicated and limited to ground transportation."
he reported over HT.

##10-4. Mayfair is giving an E.T.A. of three minutes.## L.A. responded.

"Copy that." Hank answered.  Then he looked up Johnny. "Is this why his
pressure's so low with that skull fracture?"

Gage met his eyes grimly. 
"Yeah, he's hemorrhaging out somewhere. Either at his descending aorta 
inside a few membranes or around the sites of his limb fractures. His shock 
right now, is probably saving his life. Such a large AAA that's leaky or having 
a basal skull fracture alone, is usually bad enough to kill someone in a few 
hours. But having both these problems..."

"Keep breathing, man." said Poncherello, crouching by the driver's
head. "You've got your kids to live for." he said, passing over the wallet his 
partner had just located on the hillside in a fast search. The medical history
card inside listed hypertension as one of the man's pre-existing conditions.
He tossed the photo section open and the firefighters winced when they
saw pictures of a three year old boy, and his six or seven year old brother, 
playing baseball in a yard, along with a portrait of the driver's wife. "Now you 
know why I was hurrying so badly down there. I saw a baseball glove in the 
back seat." he glared at Johnny.

Gage nodded a silent apology, stunned at the reality of a young family,
still waiting at home for their husband and father.

Hank grabbed Roy's notes and got on the phone, quickly. "Rampart. Vital
signs are.." and he listed off those and his paramedics' medical findings, 
one by one as fast as he could relay them. "...and Rampart, he has a 
Glasgow coma scale rating of three." Stanley concluded.

Dr. Brackett responded. ##Okay, 51. Everything we're going to do will be
strictly preventative. Start a large bore I.V. of normal saline, TKO. If his pulse
rate remains below sixty beats per minute, inject 0.5 mgs atropine I.V. push. And
if his intracranial pressure rises significantly, with an onset of Cushing's syndrome,
administer lidocaine 1.0 mg/kg  slow IVP to counteract his ICP immediately. 
Premedicate him for a rapid sequence intubation. Use Etomidate, at 0.3 mg/kg 
IVP and have someone apply a Sellick maneuver while you intubate.  If your tube 
placement is confirmed and the patient shows signs of increasing consciousness, 
administer 2 mg's midazolam in slow increments to sedation, then use 0.1 mg/kg 
vercuronium to regain paralysis. We'll have mannitol and Lasix standing by 
pre-surgery. Monitor his vitals signs, heart rate and overall reactivity and give me 
a new update every five minutes in transit. Also use the standard 
dose of phenobarbital if he starts developing seizure activity.##  

Hank faithfully recounted Kel's orders to his paramedics, word for word. And soon,
all preparations and necessary care, were provided. 

Jon Baker looked up. "Traffic's still real bad out there. It's just past the lunch rush."
he said to Captain Stanley. "How about we provide an escort for your ambulance?
He'll get there faster by whole minutes if we lead the way. Cars are used to
yielding to us." he said as his partner cracked his leather gloved knuckles in 
emphasis.

"Of course they are. You're their ticket writers." Hank grinned. "All right. Let's 
load him up." Cap said to everyone working over the man as the
Mayfair rig finally arrived from an off ramp. Ponch was so worried about
the driver, that he helped carry the stretcher himself over to the open doors. 

--------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
Brackett and Dr. Early met 51 at the entrance. "Okay, Carol, skip the CT scan.
He's going right into surgery for that dissecting aneurysm. I want a type and
cross, for whole blood and a full skull series while he's getting prepped."

"Right away, doctor." said Ms. Evans.

Reluctantly, the dusty Squad 51 pair finally let go of his stokes and longboarded
gurney as orderlies took over and handed them back their oxygen and ekg 
equipment. One of them spoke. "We'll wash off your board and stokes and leave
them by the entrance in about a half an hour once he's cleared on X-ray."

Nearby, the two highway patrol officers watched them soberly as they
traded information and updates. Finally, the pass-off happened between
the paramedics and the hospital staff.

"Is there any hope for him at all, doc?" Johnny asked Kel as the doctor 
rapidly turned to follow the driver's bed. Dr. Early stayed by the man's
head, assessing his breath sounds and the endotracheal tube's placement
as they hurried away.

"A slight chance. If any. As you know, patients with basilar skull fractures 
are also very likely to get meningitis, an infection a man in his condition 
probably wouldn't be able to survive. I give him, maybe two chances in ten 
that he'll still be alive by morning. After that..." Kel trailed off. "Excuse me, 
gentlemen, I'm off to guarantee that he'll have those odds even as they 
are, regardless."

"Of course. Don't let us delay anything." Johnny mumbled, stunned.

The worried doctor disappeared through the surgical doors after his
trauma team and they soon shut behind him. 

------------------------------------------------------------------------------
It was Vince's voice in quiet discussion with Officers Baker
and Poncherello that distracted Roy and Johnny where they
mulled over cold cups of tasteless coffee in the cafeteria.

They couldn't help but overhear the conversation.

"So she's got a clean M.O.? No crimes?" asked Ponch of
Vince Howard.

"That's right. Joy's rare that way as far as runaways go. And
she tested negative for drug or alcohol abuse. So that's why
we've placed her in the camp retreat up north until her
grandmother comes to pick her up. There's minimal police
presence there but enough security to keep her from getting
away again." Howard admitted.

Johnny's face twisted into an unidentifiable emotion as he spoke
aloud. "She was bored. And feeling useless. I mean there are
no jobs back at home to take for summer work. And school's out
until fall." he said softly. "Summer's always a bad time when 
you're on the reservation."

But it was enough to be heard by the highway patrolman.

Ponch startled. "Mr. Gage. Do you know Joy Yellowbird?"

"I do. She was a friend. A kid I knew once."

Ponch didn't know what to do, ..smile reassuringly or stay
completely serious. So he just spoke softly. "I've signed up to be 
her Big Brother in the state chaperone program. But if you
have any problems with that I can always.."

"I don't." said Gage, still not turning around. "In fact, getting to
know someone in authority might be a very good idea in this
stage of the game. I know I appreciated getting a mentor like
that when I was her age."

"All right." said Frank. "Do you want me to tell her you're around?"

"No, I'll do that myself. I know where to find her."

"Things have changed a little since you were a teenager." said Jon.
"The retreat's now at a camp, in the mountains above Station 110,
near the river."

"What's the name of the place?" Johnny said.

"Elders Field Retreat. It's non denominational."

"It would have to be." murmured Johnny. But then he turned around
and regarded Frank with a sober expression and he slowly offered
his hand to shake. "Thanks for looking out for her,.. officially. Unofficially,
you'll probably be a better friend than I ever was while she was 
growing up." And with that, Johnny left the room, heading for the squad.

"What's that supposed to mean?" Ponch asked Roy.

"I don't know. But I'm sure as h*ll going to find out." said DeSoto.
"Give me that address of yours, okay? I want it, too. She was a patient
of ours not too long ago."

"Here you go." said Baker, offering up a business card from his uniform's
pocket. "The address is on the back. And a phone number. The camp
director's named Millie, an ex judge, retired. She'll allow a visitor for Joy
only if she wants one first."

"Has she been discharged from the hospital?" DeSoto asked.

"Yes, a half an hour ago for an overnight stay at the retreat's clinic. She 
left for the camp with Bonnie Clark, one of my officer co-workers from 
the department." Baker replied.

"Can I speak with her for a moment?" asked Roy. 

"Sure. Call that second number at the bottom. That's hers. We'll
be over here, out of earshot." said Jon, drawing Ponch away from
the phone on the wall that Roy was regarding seriously.

Slowly, Roy DeSoto picked up the receiver, dialed the woman police
officer, and asked her about Joy Yellowbird's state of mind.

--------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
 
Photo:  Man getting hooked up on an EKG.

Photo:  Dixie answering a base station call.

Photo:  Dixie talking to Dr. Brackett.

Photo:   Johnny, Roy, Dixie and Brackett talking in the hall.

Photo:   Vince at Rampart.

Photo:  CHiPs Baker and Poncherello on motorcycles.

Photo:  A Mayfair and the squad arriving at Rampart's back entrance.

Photo:  Ponch and Jon, CHiPs officers, looking serious, inside.

Photo:  Roy on a payphone.

Photo:  CHiPs cruiser officer Bonnie Clark on a phone.

***************************************************
From :  patti keiper <pattik1@hotmail.com> 
Sent :  Sunday, August 19, 2007 4:17 PM 
Subject :  Windows Of The Soul.. 

"Hey, Joy. I really believe you're gonna like it here. Just look
at the view! And the air. Take a deep breath. Isn't it beautiful?"
asked Bonnie Clark of her legal charge as they left the squad
car to enter the main lodge of the state run foster camp.

Joy Yellowbird flung her duffle bag on the floor and eased herself
onto the porch sofa. She let out a huge sigh and winced at the still
continuing sting of aches in her muscles and chest from her
ordeal of the night before. "If you say so, Officer Clark." said
the quiet teenager. "So Roy said that Johnny was coming? For
sure?"

"Joy. I can't guarantee the actions of a man whom you claim is 
your friend, just based on hearsay." Bonnie insisted softly, setting
down her folder about Joy.

"Is it because you've read that I have a record a mile long in my files?"

Bonnie chided her gently and tried to touch her shoulder reassuringly.
"You've committed no big awful crimes. At least not technically.
I wouldn't call running away a felony, but it is a continuing problem. 
Especially for your grandmother."

"I don't want to talk to her." said Yellowbird fiercely.

"You don't have to. At least, not today." Bonnie smiled gently. "Today
is for regrouping and healing. There's a nurse coming shortly
who'll make sure you're still doing fine. Then we'll check you into
your cabin that you'll be sharing with the other girls who will be coming 
to join you tomorrow afternoon."

Yellowbird's eyes glittered defensively.
"So when's my next session with a shrink? I keep telling everybody
that I wasn't trying to kill myself. I was tired from walking so far
from the bus station. I only fell asleep outside the fire station by accident.
I wasn't even sure I was even at the right one." she insisted. "And I didn't
want to embarrass myself by asking my stupid question of those inside 
right away. Just picture what they would have thought seeing me at the door 
asking for Johnny Kaulope Bear. I didn't want to get him into any trouble." 
Joy began to study her small, journey scraped hands, fidgetting. Her face 
betrayed nothing of her conflicting, vulnerable emotions, at least, not
openly. But then a little of her bravado, cracked, and she slumped lower
into the cushions.

Bonnie smoothed back Joy's long black hair in a mothering way.
"We know you aren't dangerous to yourself. That's why you've been brought
here, Joy. Nothing in your evaluation demonstrates anything alarming except
for the fact that you're growing up and seeking some roots of your own."

Joy sighed and coughed deeply, splinting her ribs, from the soreness there.
"It's not easy being a half blood. Especially back at home. I just needed to talk
to someone who's like me who understands what I'm going through." Yellowbird
said urgently. "Grandmother keeps telling me to not think about it so much.
But she can't see how everyone treats me. She's gets blind sometimes 
in more than just her eyes. I felt so alone, I couldn't stand it."

"So that's it. Roy told me Johnny Gage mentioned you were from his reservation."
said the lady officer.

"He changed his name?" Yellowbird asked incredulously, disappointed. She 
grew bitter. "What? Don't tell me he's afraid of the color of his skin, too, living 
out here away from the People." she said angrily.

"That isn't it at all, Joy. Unlike you, Johnny had a record as a juvenile delinquent.
I know. I used to ferry him around from place to place whenever he was in 
department custody. He changed his name as a sign of finally taking on a new
life. And his first break, was the fire department, eight years ago."

Joy's eyes finally twinkled. "So, what did he do that was so bad? Can you talk 
about that?"

Bonnie grinned widely. "No. I'm pretty sure I want to leave divulging 
that part, up to Johnny himself. I respect his past and his privacy. I have to.
Just like I'm protecting you now from your own nosy tribal Elders. They don't
need to know all your details other than the fact that you're all right and located 
safely."

"I'm a disgrace to them."

"How? They were worried about you. Enough to notify us that you were missing
after Nurse Dixie McCall contacted them. Doesn't that count for anything?" Bonnie 
wondered.

"The leaders were doing that to preserve Grandmother's honor. Having a disobedient 
child is a black mark that stains a parent publicly, whenever it is witnessed, in their 
eyes."

"Then why do you keep running away?" Clark asked quietly, holding Joy's hands.

"Because I'm hurting. He- he suddenly went away." she declared, tears 
finally rising. "After he promised me."

"Who promised you?  Was it Johnny?" Bonnie guessed.

Sobbing, Joy Yellowbird fell into Bonnie's arms miserably, and nodded yes.

--------------------------------------------------------------------------
Johnny Gage was with his prayer sack, praying in the bunkroom.

Roy DeSoto was taken by surprise when he saw his partner occupied
in something obviously religious. But his worry and concern finally made
him intrude enough to disturb Gage's solitude. So he picked up his
laundry basket full of the gang's clean uniforms and walked over to
his own bunk, to fold them. He had sorted out all the different sizes when
he finally spoke. "I'm here if you want to talk about it."

"I don't want to talk about it." Gage said instantly, still fiddling with the beads
on the bag in his hands. "At least, not until we get up there to see her for
ourselves. I'm... inviting you to come along with me when we get off in a few
minutes. At times like these, it's kind of nice having a best friend to fall on 
when something ugly from the past finally catches up to you."

Roy merely nodded, not saying anything even though he was burning up with
curiosity about everything that might have gone on between Johnny and the 
young Yellowbird girl. "I'll go. You don't even have to ask." DeSoto smiled.

"Thanks." Johnny said, without looking up at him from where he was sitting
cross legged on the bunk. He put the prayer sack back inside of his uniform
shirt with reverent respect. Then he rose to his feet and left the room.

--------------------------------------------------------------------------

Photo:  Native American grandmother and granddaughter.

Photo:  CHiPs Bonnie Clark, taking notes.

Photo:  A young American Indian teen, outside.

Photo:  A feather divider bar.

Photo:  A beaded divider bar.

Photo:  An Indian prayer sack.

Photo:  Roy and Johnny talking in the bunk room.

**************************************************
From :  patti keiper <pattik1@hotmail.com> 
Sent :  Thursday, August 23, 2007 6:19 PM 
Subject :  The Dawn Warbler.. 
 
Dixie McCall left Kiowa cabin at Elders Field in the police
and firefigher run state retreat for runaways. The teen camp 
was privately nestled in a rich stand of a sequoia redwood
tree forest within eyeball view of Station 110, located along
the highway, on the beach by the ocean.

Immediately Johnny Gage met her on the porch and started 
asking questions. "How's she doing?I- I mean. Is she still in 
pain?"

"Very little if any of the physical kind right now." she admitted 
honestly. "She's sleeping." said McCall, putting back her 
stethoscope into her nurse's carry bag. She specifically angled 
on not reporting her patient's current medical condition, going 
for a distraction instead by addressing the emotional one that 
had brought Joy Yellowbird to Los Angeles, feeling lost and alone. 
"And that's the best thing for her right now despite having such 
a devoted pair of visitors. Bonnie's in there with her right now 
with her in case she needs anything. I gave her one of the 
sleeping pills Dr. Brackett ordered for her. She'll probably sleep 
out the rest of the night."

Johnny frowned, still nervous, worked up. "You what?" he 
exclaimed, not believing. He finally stood on the top of the 
pinewood stairs and hung his head, hands on hips. "Okay, 
thanks." he finally said, visibly wrestling with the weight of a very 
old emotional ghost that they could see was suddenly bogging 
him down.

To Roy's eyes, it was a stress Johnny did not carry well. And DeSoto
knew Johnny's mood wouldn't improve while he still held out on what was 
bothering him on the whole deal concerning himself and Joy. ::But I'm a 
very patient man like I am, a paramedic. I'll just wait him out. He'll 
talk about her soon, I think.:: he thought. 

DeSoto changed the subject, knowing the golden value of deflection 
whenever he found his partner letting himself get into a funk. "Say, Dixie,
when was the last time you were out in the Great Outdoors like this?  
I can't remember ever seeing you getting away from it all. The air's
pure pine. Take a deep breath. Isn't it terrific?"

"If you say so, Roy." she rubbed an itchy nose. "Frankly, I'd rather find
a comfortable hammock somewhere and let a coma take full control of
my body. My allergies are flaring up. And I worked a double yesterday." 
Dixie shared. 

"Ouch." Roy mumbled in sympathy.

Johnny finally stopped pacing, only half listening to their conversation.
"To dream about home I suppose." he guessed, looking up at Dixie.

McCall smirked. "Yep. I've two very good doctor friends there attached to
the largest supply of anihistamine known to man. And I plan on rubbing their
elbows about it, as soon as I get back to Rampart with my followup 
report on Joy." She grimaced, locking her knees as a huge sneeze rocked 
her almost off of her feet. Roy and Johnny both grabbed her by the arms to 
steady her, handing her a twin pair of handkerchiefs from their shirt pockets. 
Dixie accepted one of the cotton offerings, miserably. "Oh, pine pollen's 
the worst." she sniffled. She used one, heftily. Then she pocketed it. "You 
don't want this back. I've gotten my mascara all over it. I'll buy you a new 
one. Soon."

"Forget it. I've plenty." Roy smirked. "Both my kids share the same affliction. 
Try to relax a little, maybe that'll help. Say, Johnny, we could always go for a 
walk and check out the sunset from the ridge." he tempted.

"Nope. I'm staying right here." Johnny said firmly, parking his jeaned butt 
onto the pine log swing hanging from the porch roof. "Dixie's idea of a nap 
sounds just perfect. I've a lot on my mind that I have to think about. And.. 
and...and you already know I only slept a couple of hours last night because 
of the rain storm. I'm actually tired all of the sudden." he said, stretching out 
awkwardly on the swinging seat as he covered his eyes with one plaid shirt 
sleeved arm. "I really want my bunk."

DeSoto's eyebrows rose as he chuckled. "Come on, stop being such a 
stick in the mud. Let's go find the stream and do a little fishing. We're 
finally in the middle of nowhere again with no phone, no electricity... 
well at least in this cabin anyways. And no Chet Kelly for Pete's sake. 
And there you are, wanting to take a snooze in order to dream about 
being back home at the station. Besides, after Dixie leaves, I'd sure 
enjoy your company so you can point out all the hidden fishing holes 
using your instincts honed by living on the reservation." he added, 
offering once again to be an ear. "I'm still too city slicker to manage it."

Snores met this touching speech. Roy was snapped out of the spell the 
vibrant sunset held over him. He looked down and laughed. As did Dixie. 
Gage had pulled his fishing cap over his eyes and he wasn't pretending 
to be asleep.

McCall threw up her hands, realizing that getting Johnny to unload his 
mysterious emotional baggage, as least for that day, was a futile effort. 
She gave up trying for both Roy and herself dramatically. "All right, all right. 
So you wanna be a clam. Okay. Fine. We can live with that. No doubt Roy'll 
be back with a humongous brownie for your supper before too long. Maybe 
food'll soften you up. Sweet dreams, Johnny." she said, departing and 
heading for her sports car that was parked in the red rock gravel parking 
lot down the path. "See you later, Roy. Call if she needs anything." she 
gestured at the cabin window.

"I will." promised DeSoto, grinning, watching her get inside the car to 
turn the ignition.

Once Dixie had gone, Roy finished unpacking his and Gage's overnight 
things into the main lodge's two lone guest rooms. He grabbed a fishing 
pole, and soon, he was hiking down to the rock strewn stream a quarter 
of a mile into the valley, under what little light remained of the day. 

--------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

A cold shiver drove sleep away from Johnny's eyes. The smell of smoke 
frying fillets coming from the lodge across from the cabin wrung a growl 
of hunger out from deep within. He peered out between cracked lids. 
"Night already? Roy, why didn't you wake me up?"  he said aloud.

DeSoto stepped out of the nearby main entrance of the lodgehouse 
with a steaming pan of freshly caught trout. "Oh, hi sleepyhead. I was 
going to in a minute. But I had to flip these first." he held up the skillet 
and pointed to it with a mitted hand and spatula. "They're ready."

Gage stretched uneasily as his private nervousness returned fully. 
He tried to yawn.

A piercing stare from his chum caught Johnny with his guard down. 
There was no backing off. "Okay. Okay. You've succeed in making me 
feel guilty." he sighed.  "Got anything left that has to be done around 
here?"

Roy smiled broadly. "That's mighty big of you to offer, junior. As a 
matter of fact, yes, I do. We need some firewood. Not only for Joy's cabin. 
But for the lodge fireplace, too." said Roy, peering out into the dark forest.

"Now?!" Johnny asked.

"Sure. You asked, and I accepted." Roy beamed. He paused for emphasis,
"..but I saved you a heck of a lot of trouble by cutting some dead poplar tree
limbs down for you. They're about twenty yards down the same path that I 
took to get to the stream."

Gage grumbled indignantly as he started marching irritatedly out into the 
night.

DeSoto spoke aloud. "Ah...Johnny?" Roy called out after him."The axe is 
in the outhouse." he said, pointing.

Johnny winced, only barely hesitating in his stride before storming off.

Roy's twinkling eyes were hidden in the enveloping darkness.
 
The wind had been building slightly, little by little through the course of a few 
hours. Now, a huge bolt of lightning flashed as  dry thunder cracked and a 
gale force gust of wind suddenly began twisting the tree tops in the pine tree 
canopy above their heads.

DeSoto recovered first from his startled reaction and he teased. "Better hurry,
or you'll get wet." He ducked back into the sanctuary of the warm lodge before
Gage could retort back.

--------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

"Aghhh!" A sopping wet Johnny blurted out in disgust as he entered Joy's cabin 
through the screened door with a bundle of split logs. 

A raised finger, abandoning a fork a over steaming dinner plate, greeted him, 
and it shot over a pair of pursed lips. "Shh!" Bonnie hissed. "Quiet or you might 
wake her up. She cried herself out only a few minutes ago."

That brought Johnny up short and the expression on his face went from annoyance
to one of vulnerability in an instant. "S-she did?" The room got so quiet, the others
could hear the water dripping off of Johnny's face onto the floor. Sobered, he
abandoned his pile of wood and got busy lighting a fire in the fireplace across
the room. "What was she talking about?" he asked in a small voice.

Before the highway patrol officer could reply, Roy stepped out of the bathroom,
dabbing shaving cream on his neck and chin. "How's the weather looking out
there?"

"It's shaping up into a repeat showing of last night." Gage replied, grabbing a 
kitchen towel to dry off his hair and most of his skin.

"Oh, yeah?" DeSoto remarked.

Clark left her fish and peeked out the window. "It certainly isn't the typical autumn 
shower out there. That's for sure. I'll go make sure the generator's gonna stay
working for us in the lodge." She grabbed her raincoat, and left.

Roy went over to the door and opened it a crack after she was gone. The sight was
enough to make him gape in disbelief. The massive hundred foot sequoias were
swaying and the younger trees at their bases were bowed low to the ground under
the onslaught of a hurricane force straight line wind. It took considerable strength
to shut it again. He latched it snugly, but left the door window ajar so they could
see when Bonnie returned.

Gage went pale and he hurried over to the door when a tree branch began thumping
loudly on the roof over their heads. He leaned against the door as if their lives 
depended on it. A growing expression of worry filled his face.

Roy eyeballed him, surprised at his reaction. "What's wrong?"

"We've got to leave."

"What?" Now it was Roy's turn to disbelieve. "Well, why? How come?"

"I didn't tell Station 110 that the four of us were up here a night early." Johnny 
sighed, annoyed at himself. "I forgot to do it. And I told Bonnie to skip that step, 
too, saying that I'd take care of it before we.. even...came." he trailed off, 
swallowing dryly.

"Oh, Johnny." DeSoto moaned in irritation. 'How could you do something so 
stupid?"

"Geez, Roy. I apologize. I apologize wholeheartedly. So if you want to blame 
somebody. Go ahead and blame me. It seems I have to apologize to the whole 
world anyway for not becoming Joy's adopted brother, too, when I said I would."

Johnny tried to take back the words he had just spoken, but it was too late.
Raw hurt stung him openly and he crumpled into a chair, his elbow knocking over 
a salt shaker that had been sitting near Bonnie's plate. Neither firefighter even
noticed it. Carefully, Gage covered the police woman's meal with the serving
pot's lid, to keep it warm. 

Roy didn't move and even the growing storm fell quiet in those seconds.

Suddenly, Gage's eyes filled with unshed tears. "So now you know." he
whispered, tortured. "I guess I'm to blame for almost killing her, too."

"No, Johnny." DeSoto said instantly. "That's not true."

Gage visciously held up a hand. "Just..just hear me out, Roy. Just shut up, and listen. 
I'm.. at...fault. For ALL of it. If I had just done what I promised to do when I turned 
eighteen, she never would have tried to find me like she tried to do today." he 
said, frightened. "What kind of friend just turns their back like that? Huh? I've never 
done that to anyone else." he cried. "When did I change, Roy? Was it when my 
parents died together, too, like Joy's did?" and he turned away, thoroughly grieved. 
His shoulders began to rock with a silent sobbing at the painful remembrance of their 
passing. "All Joy reminded me of afterwards...was death and loneliness. She's 
why I left the reservation so young. I had to get away from that." he cried.

Roy's stunned look disappeared completely and he went over to his partner and 
he knelt, gripping Gage's shoulder in soft support, not saying anything at all at first.
But then he got practical. "Shhh, it's out. It can't hurt you any more. And in the
morning, you can talk to Joy and explain why you left in the same way you've just told
me. With honesty. Joy's old enough to understand just about anything. She's almost
an adult okay?"

Gage studied his hands, still not looking at Roy, but he didn't shrug off his touch either.


DeSoto started analyzing their other situation. "We're about seven miles from the
fire station, right?"

Johnny nodded again, staring at Joy's closed bedroom door. "There abouts." he
agreed, wiping his face on a sleeve quickly.

"No problem then. We'll get to the lodge and make a quick phone call from the
candy and bait counter." 

The branches thumped again, making Johnny jump as each thud made him 
remember the sight of Joy's nearly dead face lying in the grass that he kept 
living and reliving over and over again in his head.

Roy made sure he met his eyes. "Hey, it's only a thunderstorm. This cabin's been
here for years and storms never hurt it before. I highly doubt that one's gonna hurt
us now. Those redwoods out there have been standing for thousands of years."
he quipped, eyeballing the sputtering fire in the fireplace that Johnny had started.

The walls started shifting violently under the rafters as the wind picked up. Air borne
water threatened to get into the cracks around the tiny wooden paned windows.

The power suddenly cut off when the generator quickly failed next door in the lodge
at another sudden deafening crack of thunder and accompanying lightning.

DeSoto spoke. "But I agree with you. I don't like this one at all. That bolt probably
just took out the telephone and power poles." he said, reaching into the wood
box to pile more wood onto the rug to dry for later fuel use.

Bonnie struggled through the door again, her hair wild and dripping.
"The whole camp's power's completely gone. And lightning must have shorted 
out my squad car's power/tran, because it won't even turn over. Same goes for 
the radio. But I still remember the tour from the last time I was here. There's a 
CB radio in the bedroom closet."

Their potential crisis broke Gage out of his raw state and he got to his feet, 
starting to check for safety gear. "I used to build those. Count me as the
communications man."
 
"Does it work?" Roy asked Clark.

"Sure, I tested it then by putting in the nine volt from the lantern that's under
the sink." she replied cheekily, still thinking like the police officer she was.

"Is there anything else useful around here?" Roy asked her.

"In the medicine cabinet in the john there's some wire and electrical tape.
The counselors probably use that hooked up to the lightning rod for
better reception as an antennae for the TV set. We could do the same thing
to boost a radio signal if things get any worse up here." she decided.

Gage nodded quickly, keeping an eye on the sky around them.
"I'll go get that. Uh, Roy, could you go get that radio? I don't want to disturb 
Joy at all. Not yet anyway." Johnny said.

"Okay." said DeSoto. "I'll be right back. I won't wake her."

"It's dark, so let's meet at the kitchen table." Bonnie decided. "Let's plan our 
getting out over there near the fire."

Both firefighters agreed. They split up to make preparations while Bonnie
put all of their still uneaten food away into an insulated cooler to keep it fresh.

Outside, the trees began to groan under the fury of the storm.

-----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Roy and Johnny were towelling off the dishes Bonnie was washing and 
handing to them while they discussed how the C.B. radio could be boosted
into a greater range so it could reach L.A.'s repeater tower using the odds
and ends laying around the cabin. 

"And that's all there is to it?" Roy asked Johnny.

"Yep. It's as simple as that. I'm all done here." he said, indicating the empty
sink and rack. "So I'll get started with it while you finish up." Gage dried his
hands. He started whistling a haunting native tune softly while he gathered
the tools they needed from the hallway closet. 

"All right. Bonnie and I are going out to try the squad car's radio again. We'll
be right back." said DeSoto.

There was a brief howl of wind as the two of them left the cabin in their
raincoats, but then it was over.

A quiet cough and blanket rustling behind a closed door reassured Johnny 
on Joy's continued resting state. She wasn't worrying about the elements and
so neither would he. 

All of a sudden, there was a loud sustained cracking sound coming from 
somewhere outside. The sound was different from the ones Johnny
and the others had gotten themselves used to hearing that were being
caused by the storm and he looked up reflexively.

Gage slowed his rummaging around in closet boxes as he paused and
listened to it, only half paying attention to what he was doing. In the kitchen,
a sharp movement from the far window caught Johnny's eye. It was something
mottled, and roughly reddish brown, moving in the storm's intermittent light.
He froze in cold terror when he realized what it must be. One of the tall sequoias
immediately next to the cabin had snapped like a toothpick in the gale and
was falling directly over the roof. Gage was paralyzed for several agonizing
seconds before..

"Joy! Look out in there! A tree's fall-----"

CRASSHHH. The roof bowed grotesquely under the massive trunk, swaying
as rain and debris broke through a hole tearing open above him. Johnny
dimly prayed in those seconds it would somehow hold as he ran for the 
bedroom door desperately. Showers of roofing tiles and wood splinters
spilled through a growing rend in the ceiling as tons of weight bore inexorably
down. Dust and rain, blinded him. Then the main support rafters gave way and
all he knew, was blackness.

-----------------------------------------------------------------------------

There were whirling sensations; random flashes of color soon after, then
sounds. Johnny stirred. What were those sounds? Cool, liquidy echoes,
were filling a small room that he didn't immediately recognize. ::Water?::
Gage thought. He opened his eyes to a semi-lit world. 

Pain made him shiver. Johnny looked down muzzily at his legs to see a waist
sized pine branch lying on top of them. He shifted his weight a trifle, still
coming to consciousness. ::No, I'm not trapped too badly.:: some part of him
thought. He was sitting, scraped and upright, in about two inches of rain water. 
Johnny dug the mud away from his knees and freed himself easily. A fire
flashed in his head as full recollection returned. ::The others!:: "Joy?! Can you
hear me?!" he cried out. ::She's nearby. This is the bedroom, isn't it?::

In the jumble of what was left of the cabin, Johnny couldn't find clear landmarks.
There was no reply. In intense pain from a broken leg and wrenched pelvis, Johnny
dragged himself through the debris, towards where he could see a bed. "Joy! 
Answer me!"  Loose pine branches and shattered rafters blocked the only way 
past a collapsed wall between him and twisted blankets. Nausea made him ill
right then and he lost a stomach battle. He cried out in frustration and tore through 
the twigs and boards, ignoring the heightened pain in his leg. He could feel
two bone ends grate sickeningly on a simple fracture there, deep inside. Johnny
crossed the last of them and saw Joy lying face down in the water, motionless.

::Not again. Please..:: Johnny begged mentally. Dreading the worst, he gently
turned her over. A quick check proved she still had a carotid but the breaths
being drawn in were very irregular and shallow. Putting an ear to Joy's chest, 
Gage heard thick rasping, bubbling sounds where there should have been none.
::She must have breathed a lot of water into her lungs after being knocked 
unconscious.:: he realized. ::Her color's turning.::  Stiffening against pain, he
pulled the girl to a sitting position in front of him and wrapped his arms around
Joy's waist in a snug bearhug. He applied pressure, gradually increasing the 
strength of his clearing attempts when her breathing suddenly began to weaken
and stop. "Come on." he pleaded, keeping each careful modified heimlich
thrust effective.

A few seconds later, Joy choked and a flood of frothy rain water welled up 
out of her nose and mouth. She gasped through her unconsciousness and 
started sharply drawing in huge lungfuls of air as he laid her head lay back across 
his shoulder. "That's more like it." he grunted triumphantly. Soon after she had 
pinked up again, he moved to lay her back down onto the tree boughs, gently 
supporting her head and neck. Joy continued to breathe strongly. 

Gage rested his head against the large tree trunk that had destroyed the
cabin bedroom and leaned on his elbows, giving in to gratitude as Joy
started to cough up more water easily. He gathered strength for a minute
or two. Then he turned her onto her side to allow for the rest of the water
to drain out. Finding himself suddenly shaking, he blew on his hands to
warm them and then he started to search for the medical kit he had seen
in the closet before the tree fell. He found it intact a few feet away under
some wooden planks. He began calling. "Roy!  Bonnie!  We're in the
bedroom!" he gasped. "Hey! We're in--" he broke off as a spasm from
his leg silenced him. The passing storm was still loud. No one would hear
shouting at all, Johnny realized. Joy and himself would have to wait for 
rescue when it finally came. He hoped that his partner and Bonnie had the
foresight to take his Rover with them down to the beach to summon help
from the firestation.

He pulled one of Joy's limp hands into his own. "Okay, we'll get things started
on my end, then." he told her and he went to work patching up cuts and 
lacerations. Joy was clear of any obvious injuries past very minor ones beyond
her P.E. and somehow Johnny managed to get her onto a dry surface on top of
a tipped over dresser. He got her warmed up with fresh blankets and he splinted
his fractured lower leg as best he could. Shock had taken its toll from
the both of them.  But Joy was in the worst condition. Johnny pulled out the kit's
penlight and looked at her eyes. They were sluggish, but equal, due to her
clear concussion, but they continued to remain reactive, refuting the hypoxic
brain damage he thought she might have suffered from near drowning.

A deep cut marked the place of concussion and blood flowly freely. This
Johnny wiped away and stopped with some butterfly strips. And he did a 
makeshift job on taping up the few cracked ribs he could feel on her right side. 
Gage wasn't worried about those at all. There was no blood in her mouth. He was
worried about his own condition. Fever was already setting in and his leg had
swelled up like a balloon in spite of his elevating it up high onto the tree trunk.
It was a simple, but bad break most likely, that had inflamed a lot of nerves.
The pain was intolerable when he moved just inches.

But Gage knew that he had to get his radio going as a firm back up to whatever 
his partner and Bonnie were doing in going for additional help.

A half an hour later, he checked on Joy's condition one more time before making
a decision. Her breathing and pulse had stabilized enough to be trusted alone so
Johnny got painfully to his feet, using a nearby fallen wall. He became woozy and 
almost passed out before he tightened his stomach muscles to fight it off.

A few minutes later, Gage was hobbling around, gathering up the equipment he
sought for the CB radio and slowly he got to work using the lantern Bonnie had
told him about. He located the grounding rod and found that it was still standing
along the chimney it had been bolted to. A few screws turned here and wires
twisted there and the task was finally complete. Johnny held his breath and turned
the power on. High pitched whistles and active static greeted him, then it suddenly
threatened to go dead. Deftly he adjusted the selection dial to Channel Nine and 
the open signal quieted and steadied itself. He changed the fine tune to maximum
and waited before he attempted to key up the microphone. 

Voices from emergency vehicles and DeSoto's own voice, hailing him from
Station 110's rescue squad, made him smile. ::So they got there okay. That's
cool. Real cool, man.:: he thought as he exhaled loudly as he stared at the glowing
radio, smiling. He had done it. Quickly, he offered them an update on himself,
the cabin, and Joy. He was still sitting there at the kitchen table, in a fog, long after
Roy said that they were on their way, when the sound of weak coughing issuing
from the other room, brought him wide awake. Favoring his leg tremendously,
Johnny got into the bedroom as fast as possible.

Joy was beginning to come to. Johnny sat on the edge of the dresser's side
where she lay under thick blankets and he felt her pulse as her eyes fluttered 
open. He grinned at her, while he held her muddy face gratefully with 
his other hand. "Chehuntamo, Lakni-Paci. I'm here, Little Sister. It's me, 
Kaulope. You're going to be okay." he smiled. "Don't be scared. I promise, 
I'm not going to run away from you any more."

Joy began to cry as her broken heart finally felt the warm healing touch of 
Johnny's fierce caretaker spirit on her skin, at last. She weakly reached for
his monitoring fingers on her wrist and then she didn't let go. "I heard you
scream; the storm.." she sobbed.

"Both over, it's morning, see?" Johnny pulled the curtain aside that was near
them.

A brilliant sun rose from behind the tall pine trees. Joy squinted against the glare.
Then she noticed the chaos lying all around them. "What's that tree doing in here?"

Gage smirked, wincing a little. "It fell on us."

Joy attempted to sit up. "You're hurt." she said, but a stab of pain caused her
to stop and catch her breath. He caught her and helped her back onto the
tree boughs.

"Don't move. You've banged a few ribs, among other things." he said, wrapping
a BP cuff around Joy's arm.

Joy's eyes studied his face in great detail. "I'm no longer in pain." she told him, 
and she didn't mean the kind afflicting her body. "So you are a healer. Grandmother 
says you were gifted that way, even when you were a little boy." she said.

"I'm a paramedic, not a doctor. At best, I'm a remote control healer, listening
to the real one." he grinned sheepishly, jerking a thumb at the murmuring radio
still chattering away on the kitchen table within their line of sight.

"Is that a radio I'm hearing?" she said, watching the blood pressure cuff puff up
as Johnny began his reading.

"Yep. Rescue crews are on the way." he replied without looking up from the dial.
"They should be here really soon. I just heard from my partner a couple of minutes
ago." he said, releasing the pressure in the cuff with a hiss. "How's your head?"

"Figuratively or physically?"

Gage pegged her with a wry look. "Both." 

"I'm all better now. Thanks for coming back to me."

"I should be saying the same thing. You're one up on me, girlie girl. 
You've come back to me twice already on the same day."

"I wasn't about to die." she said seriously. "We aren't finished yet with
each other. Kaulope, do I have a new brother to get to know in the future
in you?" Her face broke up into tears. "I really really need one." she sobbed,
holding her sore side.  Gage quickly wiped her tears away, slowly shushing
her into silence as she timidly reached out for his face.

Johnny didn't look away, nor did he get nervous this time. "Yes." he told
her with conviction ...and love.
 
Joy Yellowbird closed her eyes and fell asleep with a smile on her tired face.
She was finally home.

Gage left her resting a few minutes later, convinced that her vitals signs were 
as good as they were going to get without an I.V. and oxygen and he
painfully returned to his place at the kitchen table, hovering over the glowing
CB radio.

---------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
A sharp shouting jolted him awake. It was Roy, yelling at him through
a crack in the debris pile that was all that remained of the smashed cabin.
"Johnny?! I see you over there. Are you hurt?"

Gage groaned as he fought his way out of light shock. "Broken leg. Get
Joy on some O2. She almost drown on me a while ago."

"What are her vitals?"

"Normal to low. Cracked ribs, concussion. She aspirated quite a bit but
kept on breathing. She should be sleeping now." he gasped, still blinking 
dizzily. "You guys sure took your sweet time getting back here."

"The flash flooding stream got in the way. Where is she?"

"In the bedroom, on a dresser above the water. She's dry and warm."

"Okay. Captain Raider's got the engine crew cutting in to get her right now
along with Squad 110. How are you feeling?" Roy asked ironically.

Gage didn't open his eyes. "Happy."

"Oh? And why's that?" Roy asked worriedly, seeing the pale shade on his
partner's face as he began to grow slack in his expressions as he
began to slump at an angle over the radio sitting on the table top.

"I've doubled the size of my f-family. Did it at dawn. Figured it was ap- 
appropriate. She needs me. And I..I think I need her.." Gage mumbled.

"Johnny? Don't try to talk. You're going into shock. If you're going to faint, 
try to do it face down. I can't reach your face to fix your airway from here."

"...yeah... I know. I think I'm ...lying down that way. Don't fret. I'm still happy..." 
he coughed painfully. "Roy?"

"What? I'm almost through to you." he yelled over the powerful buzz of a K-12.

"Don't tell Chet about this, only Dixie and those three CHiP'ers, or I'll..I'll kill you 
when.. when I wake..up." Johnny said groggily.

DeSoto had to grin when he watched Johnny's head fall forward over the angle 
of his elbows. "I promise. It'll be our own little secret, just between the six of 
us. All right?"

Johnny didn't answer as his forehead fell right onto an empty plate, as he 
blacked out in slow motion. His arms were still hugging the CB radio he had 
fixed.

Feeling amused and relieved, Roy jerked a finger at his partner through
the hole as another firefighter peeked in with him for a status check. "Dinner 
anyone?" Roy quipped to reassure the fireman about their first victim's
condition and his current safe situation. It was actually quite a peaceful 
scene with Johnny snoring away under the new dappling sunlight. The 
other fireman fought back a chortle as he finally hurried on to go help the 
others with Joy Yellowbird.

Somewhere, a bird began to sing. DeSoto's smile got bigger when he
recognized it as a female American Goldfinch. ::Yellow bird indeed. Yeah,
they're both gonna be just fine here. For now, and in the future..:: he 
thought.


FIN

Episode Forty Seven,  I.V. Push
Emergency Theater Live,   Season Six  

------------------------------------------------------------ 

Photo:  Johnny looking down, working on something.

Photo:  A screwdriver adjusting the guts of a radio. 

Photo:  Lightning flashing at night near an isolated cabin.

Photo:  A sequoia grove, looking into the sky through them.

Photo:  A tree fallen onto a cabin.

Photo:  Roy peering through a debris crack, close up.

Photo:  A woman in water jeopardy, Gage rescuing.

Photo:  Roy climbing over timbered debris to get to Gage.

Photo:  Roy and Johnny working on a victim.

Photo:  Station 110 on the beach.

Photo:  Johnny relaxing in rural clothes.

Photo:  Joy Yellowbird, smiling.

Photo:  Roy relaxing in rural clothes.

Photo:  A picture of an American Goldfinch, 
             sitting on a pine twig.

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

 
:(               This episode is dedicated to Julia Blackhawk who perished      :(
                on August 1st, 2007 in the Minneapolis Bridge Collapse. She 
                was my friend and coworker and I will miss her very dearly. 
                                          Love Patti ETL Host USA
:(                          http://www.voyagerliveaction.com/julia.html                        :(   

 
The Story Unfolds...

Season Six, Episode Forty Eight
 
 §§    Hostage    §§
 
Debut Launch: August 1st, 2007. 

 
**************************************************
From: "patti keiper" <pattik1@hotmail.com> 
Date: Wed Aug 29, 2007 1:01 am 
Subject: Hostage- Opening Tease Scene.. 

 
Hostage©,  Mark VII Limited© and Universal Studios© Production # 37411
Original Teleplay Character Dialogue was written by Susan Keenan©. 

Technical Advisor: LACoFD  FF/PM  Jim Easley
Producer: William Stark


It was day, most likely, in the heart of a living room, on fire. The smoke
was so thick, anything even attempted to be seen was nothing more than
a gray void.  Sounds filled the flame muffled space; it was the hissing of
steady breathing coming from scba masks.

The ghostly figures of firemen paramedics Gage and DeSoto stuck close 
to the floor as they searched for something or someone. The scene was
eerie with only their own sounds and the hiss of the fire.

Crawling slowly, both turnout protected paramedics left the living room 
and went down a hallway, still moving along on their stomachs under the
layer of clearer, cooler air. They entered the first door they came across.

It was a child's bedroom. From what they could see of it, it was a mess.
The smoke was still very heavy and some of the room still smouldered
with small fires. Everything was wet from the hose cannon and part of
the ceiling had collapsed. Roy and Johnny checked carefully so they
wouldn't miss anything. 

Gage gasped, starting to feel the heat. "He's got to be right near here.."
he said loudly in frustration so Roy, lying next to him, could hear.
Johnny thrust another couple of feet of charged hose ahead of himself
as Roy swung his flashlight from one spot to another. Suddenly, its light
caught the glint off a fireman's hat.

Roy shouted. "There he is!"

The two paramedics moved as quickly as they could to Firefighter Roger
Demick's side. He had been knocked down by a section of the collapsed
ceiling. His air line had been torn open and his neck cut by a piece of mirror
that had fallen with him. As Roy and Johnny uncovered Demick, they checked
his pulse and respirations and began to apply pressure to the wound on his
neck to control the bleeding. 

DeSoto caught his breath even as he sighed in relief that they still had somebody
to rescue. "I think I can carry him okay... if you'd help me get a good hold on him."

Johnny nodded, giving Roy a hand. Then he picked up the flashlight and
the inch and a half line as they moved back into the gloom of the hallway.

They exited the bedroom and moved back toward the living room as fast as 
they could. 

The house was a low one story ranch style home in the fifty five thousand dollar
class. The outside was a flurry of action. Lopez and Kelly were up on the roof,
ventilating, while firemen from two other companies, 127 and 82, were taking
in salvage covers and hosing down the flames and adjoining areas. 

Onlookers and neighbors were straining for a better look as a police officer
kept them back. The front door was kicked open with a shoe as Gage and DeSoto
emerged with Demick. Gage gave his hose line to a fireman and Captain Stanley
joined them to help carry their victim over to the squad.

Roy nodded at Cap. "This should be okay. I'll get his vitals." he told him as they
lowered him onto a burn tarp. Gage was already giving Roger oxygen as DeSoto
applied a compress to his neck and started checking his vital signs. After Johnny
had hooked up a cannula, he reached for the biocom.

Gage pulled off his helmet and mask from around his neck. "Rampart Base. This is
Rescue 51."

--------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

A hand reached for the  speak button of the transmitter as Gage's 
voice came over the speaker. 

##Rampart Base. This is Rescue 5-1...##

Doctor Brackett's hand depressed the switch as the door of the glass
base station closed behind him.  "This is Rampart Base. Go ahead 51."

---------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Johnny held the receiver closer to his face as a spraying fire hose
passed close by their location on the street. Roy was bending over,
taking a blood pressure on the hurt fireman. "We have a male Caucasian,
Fireman Roger Demick, suffering from smoke inhalation. He is
unconscious. Respirations are slow and shallow, we're administering O2.
He also has a severe cut on the left side of his neck. His vitals are.." Gage
glanced up at DeSoto. 

Roy kept on cutting off Roger's uniform as he continued his primary survey.
"Pulse 118.."

Gage parroted him. "Pulse 118."

"B.P. 132 over 80." added DeSoto.

"B.P. 132 over 80." Johnny told Kel as he checked Demick's neck
carefully for signs of further developing problems. "That cut has
apparently missed any major blood vessels, but he's lost a lot of blood."

------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Brackett had taken all of the information down and Dixie had joined
him. "Start an I.V. with Ringer's Lactate and transport as soon as you can."
he told Johnny.

------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

The ambulance was just pulling onto the scene as Roy started to administer
the I.V. The attendants rushed toward the paramedics with their gurney.

"10-4, Rampart." said Gage in conclusion and then he hung up the phone.

They loaded Demick onto the gurney and started toward the ambulance.

Roy looked at Johnny. "I'll ride in with the ambulance."

Gage nodded tiredly. "Right."

Johnny bent low to wrap up the equipment and then he started reloading
all the gear back into the squad.

DeSoto was just getting into the Mayfair in the background when a small
sports car pulled up. A tall man got out. It was Stan Johnson who made 
a beeline straight for Captain Stanley. He wasn't angry. "That's my house.
My name's Johnson." he declared matter of factly.

Hank barely blinked an eye as he gave the facts how they were. "Okay, we've
done about all we can. As soon as the smoke clears a little more, we'll be
able to get a better idea of the total damage, and perhaps, how it started."
he said to the man.

Johnson nonchalantly lit up a cigarette. "Take your time. I've got plenty of
insurance."

Gage couldn't quite believe Johnson's attitude. He had finished loading
the squad and was ready to leave for the hospital. He had heard every
word and was rapidly becoming very upset over the man's dismissal of 
his and Roy's closest friend's recent near miss. 

The house owner's smug attitude carried on. "Actually, I'm sorry you guys
had to go to so much work. I've been trying to sell this house for the last 
six months. And this fire has just saved me the trouble." he said happily. 

That comment was the last straw. Gage whirled on him. "Saved you the trouble?!"
he shouted, his anger rising. "Look, mister.." he growled, lifting a finger at
the man's grinning face.

Captain Stanley held up a hand of his own, calming the storm. "Johnny, you'd
better get on over to Rampart." he said quietly.

Johnny sputtered. "But, Captain,.. Roger--"

Hank's eyes sparked. "Johnny.." he warned, still just as quiet.

Gage got into the squad, slammed the door shut, and left sharply.

Johnson pointed, throwing a careless hand into Johnny's departing
direction. "What's with him?"

It was Hank's turn to control his temper with the man. "Because of that.."
he indicated the house. "...a fireman might die." he spat. He turned, pacing
away to direct the clean up, leaving Johnson standing alone by his neatly
parked car. 

------------------------------------

Photo:  A fully involved suburban house fire.

Photo:  A firefighter crawling with an airbottle in thick smoke.
 
Photo:  Roy and Johnny treating a downed fireman.

Photo:  Johnny on a biophone on a smoky scene.

Photo:  Brackett and Dixie by the biophone.

Photo:   The squad leaving the scene fast.

Photo:   An angry Cap glaring by the engine.

Photo:   An inappropriately happy witness, grinning.

 
**************************************************
From: "patti keiper" <pattik1@hotmail.com> 
Date: Thu Aug 30, 2007 1:17 pm 
Subject: Act One.. Hostage 

Hostage©,  Mark VII Limited© and Universal Studios© Production # 37411
Original Teleplay Character Dialogue was written by Susan Keenan©. 
 

It was full day at Rampart Emergency Hospital.

Demick was still unconscious on the treatment table as Brackett
and Early work on him, assisted by Dixie and another nurse. Demick
was on a bird respirator and there was an I.V. going into his arm.
An EKG machine was hooked up, and this Brackett was studying as
the tape fed out a reading onto the floor. Everyone was busy in the
teeth of a critical situation.

Roy DeSoto stood by the door, watching the swift actions being
taken by the hospital staff, but he didn't interfere. After a few moments,
he left the room and went out into the hallway.

As Roy left the treatment room, Johnny spied him as he was coming
down the hall and together, they started walking towards the base
station.

Gage couldn't contain his worry. "How's Rog?"

DeSoto frowned, still analyzing what he had seen in the room.
"They're not sure yet. He seems to be stable enough. But there's
some problem with his heart." he replied.

The two paramedics reached the front desk and helped themselves
to coffee.

Johnny was surprised, worried. "Rog doesn't see the type to have a
heart problem."

Roy's face mirrored the same reaction. "I know. He's only twenty eight
and has always been a big jock."

Behind them, the sound of an opening door attracted their attention as
Dixie exited the treatment room and crossed to Base Station 17, where
the two of them were standing.

DeSoto leaned into when she finally sat onto the desk stool. 
"Any change?"

Dixie's face was serious. "No."

Gage became ansy, but his voice didn't reflect any of it yet.
"No indication of what's causing his heart to act up?"

McCall pursed her lips, thinking. "The EKG showed depressed S-T
segments in the V-leads. You guys were pretty close, weren't you?"
she asked.

Johnny took in a deep breath and straightened up uncomfortably.
"Roy went to high school with Rog. And he and I were together when
we joined the fire department.

Dixie nodded, still serious. "I'll sure keep you fellas up on his progress."
she promised.

Roy studied his hands. "Thanks, Dix."

The two medics started down the hall with their new supplies and walkie
talkie in hand. As they got halfway down, they spotted Rog's young wife,
Molly, going into the reception area with her two year old daughter, Cindy.

Gage called out. "Molly....Molly!" he said, hurrying to reach her.

The red haired woman turned, finally seeing Roy and Johnny and she 
rushed over at the sight of familiar faces.

"How is he? Can I see him?" she asked, agitated.

DeSoto picked up two year old Cindy and greeted the young curious
child. "His condition seems stable,..but--"

Molly interrupted him, almost frantic just under the surface. "But what?"

Gage finally told her. "He's still critical. They've found a heart problem
and they are trying to isolate it."

"His heart? Can I see him?" she asked again, looking around for any
clue that would tell her where her firefighter husband was.

DeSoto gripped her arm to comfort her. "Not right yet."

Dixie McCall came over and joined them, taking the young girl from
Roy. "Mrs. Demick?"

"Yes?"

"I'm Nurse McCall. Why don't you and your daughter come with me?"
she suggested, knowing that Roy and Johnny had to return back to duty.

DeSoto gripped Roger's wife's hand meaningfully."Molly, I'm sure 
everything's going to be okay." he said.

Smiling bravely, but still frightened, she nodded and followed Dixie
down the hall.

Inwardly, Roy hoped that his last statement was the truth.

-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

The sun was stil hot in the back yard behind the station. A scuffed, well
used basket ball makes a netless hoop attached to a backboard soundly.
Stoker and Lopez are shooting baskets as Gage and DeSoto came out
of the station, looking for everybody.

Marco grinned excitedly, sweating. "You guys want to play a little two on
two? Or horse?"

Gage finally smiled, accepting the ball that Lopez tossed into his chest.
"Why not?"

Mike eyed up the two paramedics. "Did you see Chet anywhere?"

DeSoto shrugged. "No. Maybe he's in the office."

Johnny tried a shot with the basketball and missed an easy layup.

Roy chuckled. "I guess they don't call you the "Stilt" for nothing." he
teased.

Gage's eyes flashed playfully, not taking offense. "All right, Wise Guy. 
Let's see how you can do." he said, sending the ball hard into his
partner's chest.

Roy absorbed the impact without even flinching. His eyes accepted 
the challenge. "From where?"

Johnny leaned over onto his knees and motioned to the ground
with both hands. "From right where you are." he replied, waiting
expectantly.

Roy was about twenty five feet away from the basket. He shot and
he made it without even drawing iron. 

Gage tried very hard to hide the fact that he was impressed. Returning
the ball to DeSoto, he offered his thoughts. "Luck. Try it again." he
taunted.

Just then, Kelly came out of the station and crosses over to his car.

Marco shouted. "Hey, Chet. Why don't you join us?"

Chet got whatever it was that he had been looking for and he headed
back across the parking lot without saying a word or acknowledging
them. All eyes were on him as he disappeared back into the station.

Gage scoffed, finally dribbling the ball he stole away from Roy.
"What's with him?"

Lopez shrugged, still watching the closed door that had shut behind
Kelly. "He's been like that ever since we came on duty today."

Roy stole the ball back instantly from Gage and shot it up high without
even looking for the basket. Twenty five feet away, again, it swished
through it solidly, to Gage's marked disapproval. 

The alarm goes off and they all react, going back into the station.

--------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Captain Stanley took down the information as the rest of the firemen
boarded their vehicles.

##Engine 51, Squad 51. Man trapped at Greg's Glass and Mirror Works.
1030 East Green Street. Cross street, Lyle. Time out : 1035 hours.##

Hank hung up the microphone after replying. "Station 51, ten four. KMG 365."

The captain got into the Ward and together, they exited the garage.
Roaring Code R down the freeway, they hurried toward their destination.

They arrived very soon into the business district, outside the building.

Squad 51 and Engine 51 pull up outside the store. Greg Liggatt, a short
balding man of about fifty, the store owner, is waiting out front. He's very
nervous and excited as he approached Hank. The paramedics joined
him.

Liggatt began to talk, fast. "It's my brother in law, Ralph. He was up on
the second floor, fixing the rack and checking for earthquake damage,
when it happened."

Stanley asked the question. "What happened?"

The owner stammered, still panicking slightly. "The rack collapsed,
pinning him under hundreds of pounds of glass and mirrors."

Roy started hurrying as he began to get equipment out. "Is he
conscious?"

"Yes, some of the rack is keeping the majority of the glass off of
him. But I think he has a bad cut on his leg."

Cap began issuing orders. "Lopez, Kelly, porta-power, jacks,
some salvage covers and some rope. Let's go."

Gage and DeSoto had completed unloading all the medical gear
and they joined the gang entering the store before them. A police
officer arrived as they did so and began controlling the on lookers.

Station 51 crossed quickly through the store, following Greg to
the back stairway. The store was glinting in the late morning sunlight
in the usual display of mirrors and glass in various shapes, styles
and sizes.

Liggatt grunted with worry. "I hope one of you is skinny enough to get
through to him." he said.

They passed under the stairway landing and went up to the next floor,
laden heavily. Hank led the way, after the owner, followed by DeSoto,
Gage, Lopez and Kelly. The storage room was typical of a store the
size of Greg's Glass and Mirror. There were storage racks where large
pieces of plate glass and mirrors were kept. It was one of the main racks
that had collapsed, with its contents, on top of Ralph.

The broken rack was supported partially by a beam that was propped up
against the wall. But Hank soon noticed that their victim was at the far end
of the row and he saw that the only way they could get to him, was to
crawl through on their stomachs, under the teetering rack of glass.

The space was very tight and looking around, he saw that only Gage
was small enough to fit through the opening. He frowned. There was
the continual danger of falling glass as stock continued to slide out
piece by shattered piece, around them. He knew everyone would have
to be more than careful.

He spoke. "Johnny, looks like you're elected." he said, after peering 
around quickly. He stepped back to give Johnny a look. "We'll start to
try and get this mess off of him."

Gage kept on his gloves, eyeing up the worst risks in the glass surrounding
them. "Ralph? Can you hear me?"

They all heard a gasping start up. It was weak. "...yes."

Johnny began to worm his way in past the glass his crewmates began
to hold steady with their gloves. "This is the Fire Department. Can you
tell us what has happened to you so we know what to take into you?"

Ralph began to reply, with difficulty, unaware that Johnny was doing a 
consciousness level check on him. "..I- I think so.. I've....got a large
cut on my thigh..and I think my right arm's ...broken. And.. I'm pinned to
the floor.. Oh,....It hurts! Please hurry.."

Gage answered. "I'll be there in a moment." he grunted as he crawled
carefully. He stopped only long enough to begin to stuff into his pockets
all that he would need...M.S... an I.V., bandages..and a splint.

DeSoto, nearby, began to set up the biocom.

Johnny made sure his gloves were covering his skin as he slowly entered
the tunnel of glass. He made his way very gingerly through the darkened
space. Suddenly, the weight above him shifts, sending bits of glass bouncing
off of his helmet. Freezing. Johnny ducked protectively, until it was over. Then
he started crawling again. 

He reached Ralph, who was on his back, pinned to the floor by the rack on his
right arm. There was a little more room around the man but still Gage couldn't
rise up off of his own stomach at all.

In the background, he could hear Roy on the biocom, beginning a hail.

Gage started smiling when he saw Ralph connect eyes with him.
"All right. Now try not to move."

Ralph coughed weakily. "I'll try."

Gage took out a compress and applied it quickly over the gaping wound
on the man's bloody thigh. "Can you hold this?" he said while he tied
it off tightly with other bandages.

"I think so." gasped Ralph.

Johnny shifted his position. "Okay. Let's see what we can do for that arm."

------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Roy was already on the phone with Rampart Emergency. He could just
see Gage and Ralph ahead of him, through the peeks in between the
masses of sharp, broken glass sheets that lay between them. Johnny
was gingerly taking a blood pressure.

DeSoto spoke again, with more information. "...Male Caucasian approximately
forty eight, medium build. He has a deep cut on his left thigh and a possible
broken right arm. He's in severe pain."

He lifted his head when Gage shouted. "Pulse is 110!"

Roy echoed that to the doctor on the other end of the line. "Pulse 110."

"...B.P is.....126 over 70." gasped Johnny, his voice muffled. "Respirations
18. "

Roy nodded, signalling visually to Johnny that he had heard. 
"..B.P. is 126 over 70. Respirations are 18. Request permission for M.S."
 
Dr. Early was on the transmitter. Joe said. ##Start an I.V. D5W as soon as 
possible and then administer 5 mgs M.S. I.V. Monitor vitals closely.##
 
"10-4."

In the store room, Roy set the phone down onto his jacketted shoulder.
"Did you catch all that, Johnny?"

Gage grunted. "Right."

Johnny quickly began preparing the morphine injection. He glanced
down at Ralph. "This should ease the pain some." he told him.
Then he started the I.V. and injected the drug into the line's port.

Stanley, Lopez and Kelly attached some lines to the wooden frame of
the tipped over rack and they got busy unfolding some of the salvage
covers. Liggatt was watching anxiously nearby. Hank spoke softly to
his men. "The big problem is not the frame. I think we can hold that okay."
he said. "It's just when we move this thing.. What's going to happen to
all of that glass?" he asked them, pointing, wanting their opinions.

Roy leaned into the hole. "Is there anything more you need in there?"

Deep within, but close by, Johnny rechecked the flow of Ralph's I.V. 
before he began to immobilize the man's shoulder with a splint.
"Not right now."  He turned to Ralph. "There. Now relax as best you can
while I try to get this on."

Ralph's eyes started to close slowly, groggily. "Are we going...to
get out of here without being cut in half?"

Johnny instantly got into his line of sight. "We will. They're working on it
right now." he said, continuing to put on the splint slowly.

Stanley knelt by DeSoto near the narrow opening. He had a salvage cover
with him and a few sections of one by twelve boards. He yelled to get Gage.
"If we can get this wood and cover in to you, then we can move the glass." 
he shouted.

Johnny replied, still out of sight. "I might be able to back up some. Then you
can place it on my back." he offered.

Roy looked up. "Cap, I'll hand it into him."

Hank passed over the bundle. "Give us the high sign when you're ready for 
a lift." he said.

DeSoto licked his lips nervously, worried for both Johnny and the wounded man.
"Right."

--------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Johnny began slowly backing up. It was a dangerous move as chunks of glass
and mirror kept falling near him and off of his helmet. But slowly, he was getting
closer to Roy and the equipment. 

"Another two feet!" DeSoto encouraged him.

"Okay.." grunted Gage.

"That's good." Roy told him as he placed the supplies onto Gage's back.

Slowly, Johnny began his return trip back to Ralph's side. Glass continued to fall,
and the wooden frame began to creak under the pressure. When he got there,
he did a fast vitals check on the still man while he started to make a shelter for
the both of them using the wood and tarp.

Nearby, Lopez and Kelly have the porta-power in place and they were ready to
pull the rack of glass away from the wall, but only when Gage and his victim were
completely covered with first the wood and then the salvage cover.

Johnny took a deep breath, his voice muffled. "We're ready!"

Roy heard the word and relayed the message to Hank, standing by the wall.
"They're ready."

Marco and Chet slowly began to pump up the porta-power.

Stanley shouted. "Lie still. Here we go!" he replied back.

Breathing fast, Johnny kept a hand on Ralph's stomach to monitor his
sedated breathing rate. He kept low as the rack started to creak. Glass
popped as it slowly began to rise.

DeSoto was shielding his hands from glass dust as it began to trickle
down from the pile above Johnny, watching his partner as best as he 
could.  The gang was pumping very carefully when suddenly, there was a 
very loud pop and then the crashing of broken glass.

He shouted in dismay when he saw Gage and Ralph quickly covered by
a terrible shower of broken glass and debris.  His face filled with fear 
for both of them. ::I can't believe what's happening!:: he thought.

Trying to get closer, but very aware of danger, Roy began to dig at
the now covered hole.

---------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Photos: None.

**************************************************
From :  patti keiper <pattik1@hotmail.com> 
Sent :  Thursday, September 6, 2007 5:37 PM 
Subject :  The Mystical Effect 

Hostage©,  Mark VII Limited© and Universal Studios© Production # 37411
Original Teleplay Character Dialogue was written by Susan Keenan©. 


Police were controlling the bystanders outside as the gang
rushed out to where Engine 51 and Squad 51 were parked outside
the glass factory for shovels and more gear.

Inside the store room, many gloved hands were clearing away jagged
pieces of glass from where Gage and Ralph were lying. They all
got it off quickly as Kelly and Lopez got on either side of the salvage
cover to lift off the remaining glass. DeSoto tossed the boards
away and he was relieved when he saw Gage's face turn towards his
to look up at him.

"Are you both okay?" asked Roy.

"I think so." grunted Gage. "I must admit, it had me a little worried."

DeSoto tended to Ralph, checking his arm.  

Johnny sighed, resting. "That's the best I could do in a prone position."
he said about the splint and blood compresses.

DeSoto grinned. "Looks like it's just fine." he replied.

A couple of Mayfair ambulance attendants arrived and soon, Gage
and DeSoto helped them load Ralph onto their gurney. Johnny
brushed the glass dust off of his jacket as he looked at them.
"Take it real easy going down the stairs."

Liggatt, the owner, stopped Johnny. "That was a brave thing you did."

Johnny grinned. "I think he's going to be okay. You can follow us if you'd
like. We're going to Rampart General." he replied, accepting the compliment.


----------------------------------------------------------------------------------
In a treatment room, Firefighter Demick lay on an exam table. 
Dr. Brackett hovered over him with a nurse in attendance. He looked 
over his chart and some test results and nodded in satisfaction. He 
handed them back to the nurse and left the room. 

In the hallway, he met Johnny and Roy just arriving with Ralph on
their gurney. Dr. Early was with them. They all followed as the bed
was carted into a treatment room. Gage held the door open as
Early and a couple of nurses filed in after the glass wounded man.

Then they continued down the hall to where Dixie was on the phone
and where Brackett was having a quick cup of coffee. They did the
same thing, keeping quiet while McCall finished her on the line 
conversation. 

"Right.." said Dixie. "Dr. Brackett wants a CCU bed ready as soon as
possible... Right.....Demick, Roger, R. ...Thank you." she said and then
she hung up.

Gage couldn't contain his dismay and concern any longer. "How's he doing?"

Kel swallowed with satisfaction. "He's regained consciousness and his
respirations have improved. And, we've found out what the problem is."

Roy's face mirrored dread. "What's that?"

Brackett's frowned. "The EKG indicates ischemia. Chances are, he has 
serious coronary artery disease despite the fact that he's young and has
never had any chest pains. The smoke inhalation and lack of oxygen brought
it to the surface."

Gage couldn't speak for a few moments, stunned. "Is he going to be okay?"

Brackett set down his empty coffee mug onto the countertop near the 
rescue recorder. "We can't tell yet if there's been any permanent damage. 
But I'm afraid his career as a fireman might be over."

Roy looked pained, worried. "Has anyone told his wife?"

Dixie spoke softly. "Not yet. She's on the patio, having some lunch."

DeSoto blinked, thinking. "Can I tell her?"

McCall smiled, supporting him. "Sure. Go ahead."

DeSoto left the group and headed for the coffee shop, keeping the squad's
HT with him. He winced when he heard Gage still trying to digest the news
behind him.

"Leave the department?" said Johnny. "Rog and his wife are going to take that
pretty hard. You know he's been accepted for the next paramedic class..."

-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
The nurse that had been with Demick suddenly whipped open his door.
"Doctor! Come quick!" she shouted.

Brackett, Dixie, and Gage all responded and rushed into the treatment room
after her. On the bed, Demick was silent and sweating under his oxygen
mask. A high fluting tones alarm was sounding on the EKG oscilloscope.
Johnny could see Roger was suffering some PVC's.

Kel leaned over the bed, studying the monitor and Roger's inhalation efforts.
"PVC's. Dix, a hundred milligrams bolus of Lidocaine..." he ordered.

McCall prepared and injected the medication into Demick's I.V. line. Soon,
everybody was working hard to save the fireman's life, taking vital signs,
double checking his airway, and his lung and heart sounds.

The EKG monitor changed pitched when Demick suddenly slipped into V-tach.
Johnny gripped Roger's neck and shook his head at the lack of a pulse.

The nurse looked up from the monitor she was watching. "V-tach." she added.
Gage reached over to the crash cart and gelled the paddles up, powering the unit
on full. Then he handed them to Dr. Brackett who rubbed them together swiftly
to spread the conductive paste. 

"Clear!" hollered Kel. He defibrillated. And everyone looked tensely at the scope
as the forced rhythm danced hideously afterwards. The screen settled into a 
resumption of pulseless V-tach.

Brackett's face became firm with determination. "Clear!" he called out again.
Once more, Roger's body arched off the bed under his tubes. The irritated,
chaotic heart activity disappeared into a straight line after the second shock.

Working rapidly, Kel began to bark orders. "Take the paddles.." he said to Gage,
passing them off as he started CPR on Demick himself. "Dix, Isoproterenol I.V."
he snapped.

Dixie added the cardiac booster to the I.V. port on Roger's left side as the 
second nurse began ventilating Roger with an oxygenated ambu bag.

Kel looked at McCall while he maintained his compression rhythm. "Okay..Increase
the drip." he told her quickly, beginning to sweat.

Johnny was frozen, fearing the worst as the steps he knew so well were carried
out on a close friend. He found his eyes glued to the scope and the recapture
attempt progress tensely.

Brackett was equally focused, watching the screen. "Just a little more on the drip.."
he stated. Then he suddenly broke off his CPR as a fluting tone began to sound
off a viable beat. "Slowly." he cautioned.

Johnny's face broke into a scared, grateful grin. "Fifty five.."

Kel wiped his lip free of moisture. "A little more.." he said to Dixie, who was 
turning the dial on Demick's drip chamber.

Gage burst out in happy news. "Seventy.. And it's holding." he sighed, gripping 
the sides of the bed as Roger began to breathe again through his unconsciousness.

Letting out the breath he was holding, Kel stepped down off the gurney foot rails
where he had been standing throughout the resuscitation effort. He started to smile.

Everyone was relieved. Soon, all of them were working to stabilize Roger's heart.

----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
In the patio coffee shop, Roy and Demick's wife and little girl were sitting in bright
sunlight. Molly was fussing with her daughter, Cindy, who was in a highchair. 
DeSoto was sitting across from Molly, toying with his half empty coffee cup and he
was talking steadily.

"..I know it's going to be hard on him." he said to her.

Molly wrung tears out of her eyes, trying to hide them so her daughter wouldn't see
her crying. "The fire department is his life, Roy. What is he going to do?"

Roy pursed his lips, and began again. "Look, you're the one that's going to have to
be strong. He needs that."

Molly shook her head, fighting emotions. "I know ...you're right, b-but what is he going
to do?" she said again, still trying to wrap her mind around the idea of her husband's
career ending so suddenly.

Roy tried to lighten the matter. "Probably anything he wants to." he said, leaning back
and smiling at her as he crossed his arms over his chest."Except, be a professional
athlete." he joked.

Mollys face crumpled. "...or a fireman... or a paramedic.." she wilted.

Roy took her hand instantly, easing her pain. "Now, please." he encouraged her.
"You have to just be strong." he said gently. "Let's see how Rog feels about all
of this before getting too upset, okay?"

Molly gripped his hand in return, in gratitude. "Okay.." she sniffed bravely.

DeSoto covered her cold fingers with his warm ones. "Let me get you a refill of
coffee."  He rose from the table with both his mug and Molly's and he headed for
the coffee pot counter. He was just out of her sight when Dixie and Dr. Brackett
intercepted him as he was filling the two cups. Roy noticed that they looked tired.

Kel spoke. "How's Mrs. Demick?"

DeSoto eyed him up, instantly alerted. "A little shook. But she's doing better."

Brackett suddenly confirmed his goosefleshed shiver. "I wish I could say the same
thing about her husband."

Roy didn't move,  overfilling his coffee cup. "What?"

Brackett helped Roy mop up the overflow with a nearby cafeteria towel.
He made sure DeSoto hadn't burned himself with a glance first before
he said more. "He went into V-tach. We had to hit him twice to get him
going again." he reported.

DeSoto was shocked, and turned around, leaning on the tray rails for support.
"How's he doing now?"

Brackett folded his arms together thoughtfully. "He's stable on Isoproterenol.
I think he may need heart surgery. There's a specialist on his way down now."

Roy nodded, glancing over at Molly. "I guess I'll head back to the station." he
replied, realizing that Kel and Dixie had come to tell Molly of her husband's 
newly averted crisis. "Keep us posted." he asked.

Kel nodded. 

Dixie smiled. "We'll do that. Here, I'll take the coffee."

Kel glanced up soberly to where Molly was hugging her toddler tightly
in a hug. "This is always the most difficult thing about being a doctor."

Nodding in agreement, Roy left the shop as McCall and Brackett crossed
over to join Mrs. Demick and her daughter at their table.

-----------------------------------------------------------------------------------
Johnny Gage was already in the squad at the emergency entrance. Roy
got into the driver's seat, putting the truck into gear and they moved on out.

Almost too quickly, Gage picked up the mic."Squad Fifty One. 10-8." he said.

##Squad 51.## replied L.A.

Johnny returned the microphone to its spigot and tried not to fidget as he
relived again the almost death of their friend Roger. Roy paused a bit, as if 
he wanted to say something. But then he decided to concentrate on the road
as they pulled out onto the street to head back towards the station.

He drove for a minute, in silence, when Johnny finally spoke. "Man, that's hard
to understand.." he said.

Roy didn't even need clarification. "I know."

Johnny was bothered, disturbed deeply. "How come things like that happen to
someone as dedicated as Rog?"

DeSoto shrugged reluctantly. "I can't explain it."

Gage went on, trying to voice his feelings. "I mean,..he's such a good person. 
Why does he have to carry such a burden?"

Roy looked up at his partner's troubled face seriously. "Look, Johnny. Everyone
has their cross to bear. I'm not justifying what has happened to him. I just mean 
that things like that happen. And it's all part of life."

Johnny looked away and out the window, depressed. "I know. It seems so unfair."

DeSoto gripped the steering wheel a little more firmly and he began to smile. "If
and when Rog gets back on his feet. I'm sure he and Molly will adjust to their new
life. And you and I can help by giving as much positive support as we can."

Gage began to relax, thinking about things, hard. "You're right." he whispered.

-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
The trip back to the station was uneventful. Soon, the squad pulled up in front of
the station and backed into the garage. When the squad came to a halt in its parking
place, Gage piled out. "Am I starved!" he declared as they both made a beeline for
the kitchen.

"How's Rog?" asked Hank as he and the others were finishing up the last bitefuls of
lunch. 

Roy rubbed a few aches out of his shoulder and neck as he said. "He's stable. I don't
think they'll know much more until after the surgery."

Stoker looked up. "What a lousy break. I sure hope he gets better." he said firmly.

Gage and DeSoto made their way over to the stove where Lopez, the cook, was
dishing them up some lunch. Their curiosity was peaked when Marco leaned into
them, suddenly whispering. "We still can't find out why Chet's been so silent. Maybe
you two can work on him." he said secretively.

Johnny spoke quietly, acknowledging his hush hush demeanor. "We'd be more than 
glad to." he declared, smiling richly. The two paramedics turned with their plates and 
took seats on either side of Kelly as they dug in and began to eat. Gage rubbed his 
hands together and said grandly. "Marco, these are super enchiladas. Wouldn't you 
say so, Roy?"

DeSoto spoke up, also pseudo serious. "Right, Johnny. These are the best I've ever
had." 

Johnny winked up at Lopez, feigning amazement. "I don't know how you do it, Marco,
do you, Chet?" he said, glancing casually back at Kelly, seated next to him.

"Ummph." said Chet, not looking up from where he was picking his teeth over his empty
plate.

Roy continued the put on, still serious seeming. "What has gotten into you, Chet? Your
days off must've been too much for you."

Johnny said more, still straight faced. "Come, Chet. What's bothering you? You can tell
us. We're all your friends." 

Kelly looked up at him in sudden genuine worry. "Friends.. That's why I want you to leave
me alone." he said empathetically. "I'm dangerous." he declared with a broad sweep of
his hands. "I might hurt you."

Nearby, Hank regarded his man with a puzzled narrow eyed look.

Johnny tapped Chet on the arm softly. "What do you mean by that?"

Roy agreed with him and spoke up, too. "Have we done something to upset you?"

Kelly let out the sad breath he was holding. "No, ..it's nothing like that. I'm...not mad at
any of you."

Gage insisted next, getting irritated. "Well, then, what is it?"

Marco jumped on the bandwagon, where he was frying ice cream. "Come on. Tell us."

Kelly held up defensive hands and finally bellied up. "All right. But I don't want anyone to
laugh. This is serious."

Roy immediately met his eyes evenly. "We promise."

The whole gang stopped what they were doing and listened intently as Chet began to
recount his story. Of them all, Gage was the only one having trouble keeping a straight face.

Chet didn't even look at him. "Well, it all started innocently enough. My crabby downstairs 
neighbor was barbequeing late yesterday afternoon. Well, the smoke was coming right over
the balcony and into my apartment. So I called down to him to please move it. He wouldn't.
Then I thought some terrible things. One being that he'd burn his dinner. Well, he did. And
now the smoke was worse. I then hollered down to him that the smoke was more than I could
bear. He made some crack about a little smoke shouldn't bother a fireman. Well, that was
about all I could take. I told him I was on my way down to settle it in another way. He said not
to bother..cause he was coming upstairs to shut ME up. Well, he's a big guy and I was
sorta making an idle ...threat.. but now I was in a fix. Then I thought some more terrible things.
I mean, it worked with his dinner.. Well, one of those thoughts was that he'd break his leg before
he got all the way upstairs. And...then.. he did. In two places." he said meekly.

Gage leaned over dramatically, almost laughing. "So?"

Kelly eyed him up, hurt. "So? Can't you see that I'm dangerous?"

Johnny fired his reply back instantly, still chewing. "Coincidence."

Kelly looked away, still miserable. "I wish it was.. but it's..."

The alarm overhead sounded. And all the firemen started. When the rest of the gang
heard that the call was just for the squad, they returned back to the dishes while
Cap and the paramedics left for the bay. They couldn't wait to hear the rest of Kelly's
story.

##Squad 51. Child injured at Latigo Park.##

Roy and Johnny boarded the rescue squad as Hank wrote down their information in
the response alcove.

##...Daleridge Road. Cross street via Vista. Time out: 1350.##

Cap acknowledged the run. "Squad 51. KMG-365."

The squad exited the garage and entered traffic, going Code R.

----------------------------------------------------------------

Photo: Gage rubbing paddles together at Rampart.

Photo:  A doctor shocking a ventilated patient.

Photo:  An alcove full of stacked glass.

Photo:  Glass jags sticking out of a frame. Daylight.

Photo:  Shattered pile of broken glass on a floor.

Photo:  Dixie looking tense by a treatment tray.

Photo:  An I.V. drip chamber.

Photo:  A depressed red haired wife. Close up.

Photo: Roy and Johnny meeting a sad wife.

Photo:  Roy looking sad in the coffee shop.

Photo:  Cap eating. Johnny probing.

Photo:  Chet eating defensively.

Photo:  Squad 51 on a road in daylight.

**************************************************
From :  patti keiper <pattik1@hotmail.com> 
Sent :  Saturday, September 15, 2007 5:13 AM 
Subject :  That Gentle Touch.. 
 
Hostage©,  Mark VII Limited© and Universal Studios© Production # 37411
Original Teleplay Character Dialogue was written by Susan Keenan©. 


Squad 51 rushed along non Code R. They began to flank a residential park
filled with picnic tables, lots of grass and trees, and a soft ball diamond.
There was a new area containing an assortment of slides, swings, climbing
bars, and merry go rounds. The squad pulled up a short distance away from
a cluster of people surrounding a twenty foot high cork screw slide. A covered
area at the top was made of sheet metal and that is where they found a five
year old little girl, with her finger stuck.

Her mother was up on the slide with her. Another small group of mothers and
children were gathered at the base of the slide as Gage and DeSoto arrived
with their gear, still in their helmets.

Johnny looked up. "I don't know if this thing is sturdy enough to hold us all."
he remarked, adjusting the strap on his chin as he studied the girl's position.

Roy nodded, pulling off his helmet. "Let's not take a chance. I'll take the
kit and the small pry bar, and you can stay below." he suggested.

DeSoto went up the slide's ladder only to meet an embarrassed, slightly
irritated young mother. "I don't know why she always insists on coming
up here. She never slides down." she declared, hands on hips.

Roy noticed dripping blood. "Where's her finger stuck?"

The mother pointed with her chin. Both her arms were supporting her
daughter around the waist, preventing her from slipping down the chute.
"Right here. Her left index finger." she said seriously.

DeSoto found the girl's hand was wedged between a section of the
sheet metal edge and the tubular frame of the slide. ::If she slips.:: thought
Roy. ::Or if her mother lets go, her finger's gonna be hurt seriously when it
starts to support her whole body weight.:: he realized.  Roy smiled for the
child's benefit. "I see. I think we can pry the metal away without too much
trouble." He ruffled the sniffling girl's blond hair. "You just sit nice and still."
he told her.

On the ladder, Johnny got the small pry bar ready to pass up.

Roy got the child's attention after making sure the finger's oozing wasn't
arterial. "My name's Fireman DeSoto. What's yours?" he asked.

The child replied quietly, trembling a little but very wide eyed at the sight
of an actual fireman sitting in front of her. "Kirsten."

"Okay Kirsten. This won't hurt at all." Roy said, accepting the tool from
Johnny. He started to separate the two pieces of metal from the frame
gingerly, around the girl's hand. "Kirsten is a pretty name. How old are you?"

"I'm five." she sniffled, squeezing her eyes shut at the sound of creaking
metal. The pry bar slowly opened a space.

Roy gave out a triumphant grunt when he finally freed her finger. "Here you go."
he said, grinning.

The mother, was highly relieved. "Thank you so much."

DeSoto grabbed the first aid box from his partner. "Let me look at that cut."
He opened the medical kit, stopped the bleeding which had only been 
dripping because of the girl's fright and put on some antiseptic and a bandaid.

Then he began to use an alcohol bottle and a few gauze pads clean up the 
splashes of blood on the slide frame and floor grate. "Has she had a tetanus shot
lately?"

"Oh, yes. Just a couple of months ago." replied Kirsten's mother as she hugged
her daughter and admired the large bandaid Roy had applied to her daughter's
finger. She pretended to nibble at it to end the child's tears. 

Roy smiled, putting away the soiled materials he had used tidying up the slide,
into the biocontainer in their kit. "Good. Keep the cut clean and covered for a few
days." Then he turned to the little girl, still parked seated in between her mother's
legs. "You can go down the slide now." he said.

Kirsten made a frown. "No. I want to go down the ladder." she said, pointing
 with her good finger while she hugged the wrapped one closely to her chest.

Both paramedics chuckled and between Johnny and mom, they helped guide the 
woe be gone child back down to the sandy ground. 

Roy handed down the equipment but instead of coming down the way they had gone,
he simply shrugged, moving back over to the slide chute. He shot Gage a look of
'why not?' and down he went.

Johnny winced as DeSoto hit the bottom in a cloud of dust in a three point landing.
He jogged over quickly, trying to keep a straight face and failing.

"Quiet!" Roy hissed, brushing himself off.

Gage just smirked anyway. "I didn't say a thing."

DeSoto cleared his throat, flushing five shades of red. "I know what you're thinking
though." he accused, pointing at his face.

-----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
The daylight hours never penetrated the surgical suites of Rampart. Doctors
were in the midst of Roger Demick's heart operation. Heart specialist Jim Caruso
was performing the operation while another surgeon assisted. They were surrounded
by silent, but relaxed nurses and an anesthetist at the fireman's head. Dr. Brackett
was also in the room, masked, to observe.

Dr. Caruso grunted as a nurse wiped away the sweat on his forehead created by
the hot surgical lights aiming down. "Sponge. ...Hemostat."

Brackett looked up at the anesthetist, his hands held ready, in sterile gloves.
"How's he holding?"

The man nodded minisculely. "Steady. But weak." he said, monitoring the 
carotid pulse he had a hold of under the blue sheets.

Caruso lessened Kel's worry instantly with a firmer reply.
"We should be able to close in a few moments." he said.

Jim entered the critical portion of the operation. He carefully made the correction
needed to improve circulation and end Demick's cardiac nodal rhythm re-entry 
problem. The fireman looked pale under anesthesia and the open heart that lay
beating in the cavity before them looked vivid by comparison. Kel eagerly
assisted when his colleague nodded for retracters and suturing forceps crisply,
nodding in understanding when he saw a creative solution crafted that solved
a complicated bypass puzzle.  Caruso again nodded for a brow swipe from
the nurse attending him with supplies.  A minute later, the surgeon finally
added the last tight knot in the coronary juncture he was working on. "Larry,"
said the older doctor. "You can close now." he said finally.

Kel and he stepped back from their patient as the new, closing team closed in.
Together, they left the operating field. They entered the scrub room where the
two friends began to removed their soiled gowns, masks, caps and gloves.

Kel grinned wearily, but he was awed. "You continue to amaze me, Jim."

Caruso sighed proudly. "He's a lucky young man. We got it just in time."

Brackett held the door open after drying his hands. "I'm going to go see his
wife now. Would you join me?" he invited.

Jim looked at his watch. "Sure." he shrugged.

They left the room.

-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
Molly was sitting alone with her daughter, who was lying asleep in her lap.
Brackett and Caruso entered quietly, mindful of the exhausted child. Jim
gently stroked the child's cheek to soothe her back into sleep as he crouched
to take the mother's hand. "You husband is going to be fine."

Roger's wife sighed hugely, tears glistening. "Oh, thank God. When can I see him?"

Jim and Kel looked at each other, beaming. Caruso replied. "I'd say in about two
hours."

Molly rose off the waiting room couch, still holding her sleeping daughter. She
whispered tearfully. "I don't know how to thank you both.." she sobbed, grateful.

Kel just grinned, noticing the child for the first time. He brushed some hair out
of the girl's face without thinking, the caretaker in him still very much in the
foreground. "Looks like your daughter is a little tired." he said.

Molly dipped, still rocking gently. "I know. I'll take her to her grandparents and
come back. Thanks so much." she smiled, still crying in relief.  She left the
annex for the parking ramp, still cradling her daughter.

The doctors soon followed in her wake, feeling pretty good.

--------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
Gage and DeSoto were at the base station, checking out some
supplies from Dixie when the two surgeons came down the hallway towards
them, still in their greens. Kel stopped there, waving to Jim as he continued
on to his next case. "See you, Kel." said the cheerful, cherubic faced man.
"I've got another patient waiting."

Brackett waved him on enthusiastically. "Right."  Sighing in contentment, Kel
joined the others at the base station.

Johnny couldn't wait to ask. "How's Roger?" he blurted out in worry.

Roy touched his arm.

Brackett began to smile to reassure them both. "Thanks to Dr. Caruso." he
said, pointing to the surgeon retreating away from them. "Roger should recover
good as new."

Gage dropped his head and rapped on the counter in celebration.

DeSoto dared ask the question that had been in their heads for hours. "Good
enough to stay with the department?"

Brackett's smile finally faded. "I doubt that very much. But he should be able to do
just about anything he wants to.. except fight fires." he told them.

DeSoto nodded, thankful for Kel's honesty and disclosure. "We're sure glad it all 
went so well." he said, picking up their supply box.

Gage echoed the sentiment. "Thank you. See you all later." he said.

McCall and Dr. Brackett watched them go. 

--------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Gage and DeSoto came out the double doors in the emergency parking area
and starting loading their supplies into the back. Roy tried to smile. "Great news
about Rog." 

Johnny grinned, but it didn't last. "He's still going to take it hard about not being
a fireman anymore."

Roy was thoughtful, pausing a bit as he relocked a gear door. "I don't know. We'll
just have to wait and see."

The two paramedics finished loading the Squad and climbed into the cab. Taking
a deep expansive breath, Johnny instantly changed the subject. "Now what are we
going to do with our psychic?"

DeSoto looked at him askance. "Chet?"

Gage frowned, rubbing his chin in deep thought. "Yeah, there's gotta be a way to 
snap him out of it." he declared.

Roy scoffed, starting the ignition. "If you think of anything, let me know."

Johnny nodded ruefully in agreement and put his helmet on. He picked up the mic.
"Squad 51 available."

##Squad 51.##

They pulled out of the parking area.

------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
The peace in Rampart's reception area, was shattered. Through the entrance door
came a very nervous and distraught young prospective father, Curt, and his very
pregnant wife, Suzi. Curt was carrying Suzi as he staggered towards the desk.
The woman was in pain, but somewhat embarrassed by her overeager husband.

Nurse Carol was behind the counter and she immediately looked up.

Curt blurted. "My wife's going to have her baby! You've got to do something!"

---------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Photo:  Playground with a corkscrew slide.

Photo:   Roy working intently in a helmet.

Photo:  Child going down a slide.

Photo:  Trapped hand on a slide.

Photo:  Gage looking concerned up close.

Photo:  Happy girl hugged by a mom.

Photo:  Doctors operating.

Photo:  Brackett in scrubs.

Photo:  An older doctor in scrubs.

Photo:   Gage, Roy, Dix and Kel at desk.

Photo:  Nurse Carol

Photo:  Concerned man, witness.

**************************************************
Subject: Breadcrumbs.
From: patti keiper (pattik1@hotmail.com) 
Sent: Wed 10/03/07 6:34 AM 

Hostage©,  Mark VII Limited© and Universal Studios© Production # 37411
Original Teleplay Character Dialogue was written by Susan Keenan©. 


Carol left her place behind the reception desk and motioned for an orderly
to bring over a wheelchair. "How far apart are the pains?"

Suzi grunted. "About ten minutes." she said.

Curt leaned against the desk, still carrying his wife. "Do something."

Nurse Carol indicated the wheelchair that was quickly wheeled over to
them. "Please set your wife down in that wheelchair."

Curt did so after Carol locked the brakes and opened the foot stands.

Dr. Morton noticed the expression on Suzi's face and joined the group
after leaving an examination room. He left his chart on Carol's desk.

Carol filled him in. "Dr. Morton, her pains are ten minutes apart."

Mike nodded, crouching by Suzi's chair. He set a hand on the woman's
gravid stomach through her oversized sweater, feeling for cramps. "Do
you have a doctor you want us to call?" he asked.

Suzi tried to smile. "No. He's up in Santa Barbara."

Curt added more. "We were on our way to visit my folks in San Diego. We're
not.. I mean,.. she's not due for another month.." he stammered. "Please, do
something!" he shouted.

Morton was firm and no nonsense. "We are. Let's go to Room Three." he told
the orderly standing at the chair's handle grips.  They started down the hallway
and approached a treatment room that was color indicator flag flipped to be 
unoccupied.

Curt balked.. "Aren't we going to maternity?"

Morton pushed the door open and waited for the man to preceed the rest of
them. "We have to be sure she's in labor first." he replied.

Curt didn't enter the room. "You mean you're NOT sure--" he got mad. "What kind
of a hospital is this?" he declared, getting loud.

Suzi held up a hand in between the puffs of air she was taking. "Curt, honey. Take
it easy. There are thousands of babies born everyday." she panted.

Morton and Suzi and the orderly entered the room. Firmly, Carol stopped Curt at
the door at a slight signal from Dr. Morton. "This'll only take a second. Why don't
you wait right here?" she told him.

The door closed, leaving the nervous, fretting husband behind.

Suzi was helped up onto the table. She was slow and cumbersome, and relied 
heavily on the orderly to guide her bulk onto its surface. "Please forgive Curt."
she smiled at them all. "First baby, you know."

Morton held the back of her head. "That's all right. Now just lie back. Carol, why 
don't you see if you can calm the nervous husband. I'm okay." he said about
preparations.

Carol nodded and left the room, coming toe to toe with Curt awkwardly in a near
collision. The door shut behind her. "Doctor Morton should have an answer in just
a moment."

Curt was beside himself still. "With pains as close as she's having.. doesn't that
mean the baby's on the way?" he asked eagerly, running fingers through his
dark hair.

Carol replied. "That all depends on--"

She was interrupted when the door opened and Dr. Morton appeared. "Your wife's
in false labor.." he said. 

Curt calmed down, frowning in perplexity. "What does that mean?"

Morton smiled. "It means that your wife won't have the baby for at least another
couple of weeks. And as soon as she rests for a while, you can continue your trip
to San Diego."

Curt fell against the door, holding his chest, sighing. "Can I go in?" he asked
in complete relief finally once he pulled his emotions back together.

Morton pushed the door back open, in answer with a flourish. "Sure." he 
replied, offering an after-you hand pointing into the room.

Curt went into the treatment room, leaving Morton and Carol in the hallway. Just
as they started back to the reception area, the door opened and Curt stuck his 
head back out. "Doctor!"

Morton and Carol stopped and turned back, expecting the worst.

Curt smiled broadly, still peeking out. "Hey, thanks a lot.." he said. Then his head
disappeared again, leaving doctor and nurse alone to share ruefully amused grins.

--------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Roy and Johnny were relaxed as they began the return trip back to base
at the stationhouse. DeSoto was driving as they passed city streets, while Gage
was thinking. Suddenly, something caught Johnny's eye. "Stop in front of that
book shop for just a moment." he said, pointing eagerly.

Puzzled, Roy slowed and parallel paused along the curb. The book shop through
the windshield read, 'Gemini Bookstore, Everything on Witchcraft and Astrology.'

DeSoto made a face. "There?"

Johnny was excited. "There." And he opened his passenger door when
the squad stopped moving.  He got out. "I'll be just a second." he said, holding up
an eager finger, knowing Roy hated breaking protocol rules about stopping for
personal purchases while still on duty. He entered the store before he had to weather
any protests.

The owner of the store was at the back, stacking some books. His name was Homer 
and he definitely looked like he was the type who would be running that type of book
store, a poor man's Vincent Price. Johnny entered, startling at the gargoyle bell hanging
over the door. After a few seconds looking around, not certain of what he wanted, he
found the owner for some help.

Gage whispered, mindful of the crow sitting in the cage on the counter who was regarding
him with a baleful eye. "Excuse me."

Homer turned from his restocking. "Yes?"

Johnny jolted at the creepshow appearance of the man. "Uh,..I'm looking for a book for a
friend."

Homer smiled ingratiatingly. "What kind of a book?"

Gage swallowed, still unable to take his eyes off the taller man's creepy ones. 
"Well, this friend thinks he has some sort of psychic power.. and what he wishes comes 
true.." he stammered.

Homer shrugged, after blowing some dust off of ancient gold leaf bound volumes.."So?"
he prompted, asking for more information, politely enough. The crow echoed his word
perfectly in a bird imitation. Gage's gaze shifted to its beady black eyes warily. "Well, it's
a lot of baloney. And I want to prove it to him. I thought you might have a book that could 
do this for me." he smiled nervously as both man and bird fluttered about in uncanny like
motions. 

The sallow faced man smiled hideously. "I do have lots of books on the subject. However,
none of them would disapprove that your friend is a psychic. They would prove just the 
contrary."

Gage swallowed, creeped out by the environment of the place and its haunted looking
owner. "Oh, well,... thanks." he peeped, starting to back away slowly.

Homer seemed to drift over the countertop, following. "Your friend is a young man, right?"

Johnny smoothed down the goose pimples that began rising on his arms as he put
some cautious distance between himself and Homer. "Ah, yes he is,...uh..."

Homer pursued, still smiling grotesquely. "He's a fireman?"

Gage seeped away, hurrying, feeling behind himself for any obstacles. He bounced
off an Egyptian sarcophagus and corrected his flight without looking back. "Uh, yes."

Homer grinned, staying close. "He has a moustache?"

Johnny had had enough. He abruptly whirled around when his shoulder hit the same
Victorian bell that rang whenever the front door opened and he yanked the brass
handle until sunlight showed him his escape route back outside. "Yes, he does. Well,
thanks again." he waved quickly. Then he rushed out the door, fleeing with many
backward glances. Homer melted away from the windows as if he had never been.

Gage climbed back into the squad quickly. "Let's go!"

Roy's eyebrows climbed into his hairline, and he smiled a little, curious. "Didn't you find
what you were looking for?"

"No. Let's go." Johnny pointed fast, tipping his helmet down to block the view of the store
front. He hoped that he hadn't seen a crow flying around and landing on a dusty skeleton 
near the faded red velvet curtains festooning the window displays.

DeSoto pulled out into traffic. 

Roy noticed his nervousness. "What's bothering you?"

Johnny jumped at his partner's touch on his sleeve. "That..weird guy at the bookstore.
He gave me the creeps."

But Roy was no longer listening. He had spotted something ahead. "Hey.. I wonder what
he wants?"

@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@  EDIT MARK  @@@@@@@@@@@@

Gage looked forward through the windshield. A young man of twenty five was flagging 
them down. His name was Paul.

The squad pulled up next to Paul who stuck his head in the passenger side urgently.
"My friend is real sick. I'll take you to him if I can get in..."

Johnny nodded. "Sure." And Paul pulled open the door and climbed inside the squad
after Gage slid over to the middle of the seat. As he got in, Johnny picked up the mic
to call in, but when he did, Paul pulled out a gun and pointed it at both paramedics openly.

"No radio calls." said the man, dropping his earlier clean kid facade. "Just drive down 
to Twenty Fifth Street and then turn right."

DeSoto gripped the wheel, not making any sudden moves. "What is all this?"

Paul snarled. "Be quiet and drive."

Roy didn't make any sudden motions as he pulled the squad back out into traffic.

Paul kept his gun trained on Gage's chest, below the level that anyone else could see.
Johnny and Roy couldn't believe what was happening. Roy just talked. "I don't know what
you're trying to prove.. but.." he began as they turned onto 25th St. 

The sweating man interrupted him. "Now keep going until you reach Ash and then turn left.
And no more yak!" he growled, shoving the muzzle into Gage's ribcage for good measure.
At Johnny's surprised grunt, Roy clammed up, fretting instantly with worry and dismay.

---------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Captain Stanley looked at his watch from where he sat at his office desk. Then he got
up from his desk and stuck his head out into the garage as he called out to the firemen
wiping down the engine. "You guys don't have any idea what's taking Gage and DeSoto
so long to get here?" he asked.

Lopez looked up, surprised. "No, captain."

Hank nodded, going back to his desk. He picked up the phone and dialed it out.

---------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

In Rampart's base station, Dixie McCall was just finishing organizing the morning's
recorded rescue response cassette tapes into a storage drawer when the phone
rang. She picked up the white phone off the wall. "Rampart General, Nurse McCall."
she cocked her head, listening as the caller shared more. "No Captain. They left here
about twenty minutes ago."  She paused, beginning to frown. "No.. I was there a few
minutes ago and their squad wasn't outside." she replied. Then she sighed. "Right,
I will. Goodbye." As she hung up the receiver in puzzlement, Dr. Brackett entered 
the room for an EKG tape he needed for a case. "What was that about?" he asked,
recognizing that the landline inside the base station alcove was rarely used.

Dixie chewed a pencil end. "That was Captain Stanley asking if we'd seen the boys.
I told him they left twenty minutes ago."

Kel grunted in reply and both doctor and nurse turned back to what they were doing.

-----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

L.A.'s voice was blaring over the radio, but Squad 51's paramedics weren't allowed
to answer it.

##Squad 51. Do you read?.......Squad 51, L.A.## came Sam's hail.

Johnny looked at it subconsciously.

Paul didn't look away from either of them. "Ignore it. All right, here's Ash. Turn left
and then pull into the driveway at the side of the corner house."

There was an old Victorian style rooming house on the corner. Roy drove the squad into
the driveway next to it and into an old garage at the rear. He frowned when he realized
the squad was no longer visible from the street.  The truck came to a stop. Paul got out
and then the two paramedics out Roy's door.

Paul twitched the gun menacingly. "All right. Get everything you'll need for someone who's
O.D.'d on 'H'."

Gage and DeSoto took what they needed from the equipment bay cautiously, including
the resuscitator and defibrillator. 

"Now let's get going. Stay in front of me.." Paul warned when they were done.

They exited the garage. Paul ushered the paramedics outside, pausing only briefly to
shut its door. "That'll keep the curious neighbors away." he told himself more than them.

Johnny tightened his lips when the last line of sight of the squad was covered up.
"Look mister, we.."

Paul shouted. "Cool it, skinny! Up those stairs!" and he cocked the safety off on the gun.

Both Roy and Johnny twitched when they heard it as they walked. They obeyed without 
saying another word. 

But Johnny shifted the drug box enough at his hip so his gripping hand brushed by his
belt containing the hemostat and scissors. The hemostat fell from his holster to 
the ground. His eyes shifted quickly to the ground and back up again.

Their kidnapper hadn't noticed and Gage sighed in sweaty relief as they moved ahead
along the sidewalk path. The group started up the outside stairs leading to a set of
upper apartments. Paul got out his keys and started to open the door, keeping the 
gun trained carefully on the paramedics. "Now one word of warning." he said. "Les is a
very sick man and I need him well. If you two don't pull him through.. then neither of you
are coming out of here alive... understood?" he snarled.

Gage and DeSoto nodded numbly and started to enter the apartment. Intentionally, 
Johnny bumped into Roy's shoulder as they both went inside long enough for the door
jam to knock the scissors off his belt and onto the door mat. He didn't look down as they
fell. Again Paul didn't notice anything amiss as he forced them inside with a shove. 

"Hurry it up!" said Paul.  The door closed behind them, leaving sunlight to wink off the
scissors lying on the landing.

END of Act 3

-------------------------------------------------------------

Animated Photo:  Roy and Johnny inside squad with flashing lights.

Photo: Cap, frowning at the station, closeup.

Photo:  A strange curio shop.

Photo:  Dixie and Brackett at the base station.

Photo:  A hemostat lying on the floor.

Photo:  A man with a gun, looking stressed.

Photo:   Gage, looking scared, outside.

Photo:  Two armed men ushering gear laden Roy and Gage ahead 
             of them into a house. 

**************************************************
From: patti keiper <pattik1@hotmail.com> 
Date: Thu Oct 4, 2007 6:59 pm 
Subject: Clues Do.. 
 
Hostage©,  Mark VII Limited© and Universal Studios© Production # 37411
Original Teleplay Character Dialogue was written by Susan Keenan©. 


The apartment was like many of those that were in old houses. There was a
small kitchen area to one side, a bath in the back, and a small bedroom next
to that. In the back of their minds, Roy and Johnny noticed that the furniture
was old and fit the feel of the place. Aged, from a bygone era, smelling of
mothballs and permeated with the scent of newly rented spaces. There were
a couple of suitcases and some cartons lying about, as if someone were
planning to leave. Les, the patient, was lying on the couch in the living room,
not moving at all. 

Gage and DeSoto were pushed quickly into the room.

Johnny frowned, eyeing him up. "I hope we're not too late." he mumbled
to Roy as he pushed the end table out of the way as he knelt to feel the man's
carotid.

Paul sneered. "I hope not, too. For your sake." he told them, still brandishing
the gun.

Johnny gave Roy a short nod when he found some vital signs. He angled the
man's head so he could breathe freely as he watched Roy open the medical
kits. And the biophone. Paul saw that and immediately became suspicious.

"What's that?" he asked, gesturing his gun muzzle.

"It's a radio.." replied Roy. "So that we can talk with a doctor at the hospital."

Paul licked his lips, worried and aggressive. "I don't want you using any radios."
he demanded.

DeSoto stayed crouched down, his hand on Les's chest, monitoring his breathing.
"Look. If you want him to live, we're going to have to talk to a doctor." he said softly,
keeping his face carefully neutral.

Paul eyed him up. "How do I know you're not calling the cops?" 

Roy explained softly, holding out the phone receiver and the antennae he had been
inserting into the communications port. "This radio is only to the hospital. And we need
it to--"

Paul shut his eyes, impatiently. He interrupted, shushing DeSoto. "Let me think about it!"

Gage spoke up, making no apology with a harsh tone of voice. "B.P. is 85 over 45, Roy."

DeSoto nodded, his eyes never leaving Paul's. "Look mister. You'd better decide fast. 
This man's in a bad way."

--------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
Stanley, Lopez, Kelly and Stoker were grouped around a desk in the office
at the fire station.

Marco fretted, meeting everybody's worried gaze. "It's not like them to not have the
handy-talkie if they're out of the squad."

Chet rubbed his moustache. "Something's wrong. I suggest we call the police and have
them keep a look out for their squad."

Hank bobbed his head quickly. "Good idea, Chet."

Cap picked up the phone and started dialing.

----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Brackett and Dixie were finishing up at the base station, having cups of coffee when
Dr. Early entered the alcove, seeking some of his own. 

Joe spoke. "How's that fireman doing?"

Kel smiled. "Great. Looks like he's out of danger now."

---------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Roy and Johnny worked feverishly over Les. Gage made sure of a rich oxygen 
flow while Paul paced back and forth, trying to decide whether to let them use
the bio-com or not.

DeSoto tried another viewpoint. "We're not doctors. But we can save his life if 
you'd let us talk to one."

"I'm thinking!" Paul said, getting a little wild with stress.

Gage recognized the symptoms of drug withdrawal beginning to work on Paul.
::He's an addict, too? Terrific.:: he thought. ::Now we're really in deep with all of this.::
he thought. "And we're not policemen. Right now, we're only interested in saving his 
life. Not in what problems you have have with the law." he tried to explain to their mind
clouded captor. 

Paul halted in his tracks. "All I want is that he becomes well enough to travel." he
shouted. Then he blinked. Hard. Paul licked his lips nervously. "All right. Use
your radio. But remember, I'm listening to everything you say."

Roy picked up the phone on the bio-com and called Rampart as fast as he could,
worried for both themselves and the overdosed Les who was fading in front of them.
"Rampart Base. This is Rescue 51." he started to hail.

----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
Brackett, Early and Dixie all turn to the transmitter in surprise. Brackett stepped up
to the phone to answer, hesitating only briefly as Roy's voice continued to speak.

##Rampart, this is Rescue Fifty One..##

"This is Rampart Base, 51. Go ahead." he said with curiosity.

In the apartment, Roy didn't look at Paul's reactions directly. Instead, he concentrated
on his note pad and pen so he wouldn't provoke the situation further. "Rampart, we've
a male approximately twenty eight. Unconscious. Pupils reactive. Possible overdose of
heroin. Vitals are: BP is eight five over forty five. Pulse is weak at 25. Color is ashen.
Respirations are twelve." 

Kel took down the information as Early listened in as well. Dixie was on the phone with
the fire station behind them, speaking quietly. "Yes, Captain. Brackett is on the biocom
with them now. I"ll see if I can find out."

Brackett said. "Patch him up and insert an esophageal airway. Also start an I.V. with D5W."

Roy replied. ##10-4, Rampart.##

Dixie moved behind Kel's ear. "Can you find out where they are? The station didn't hear
them get a response."

Brackett startled. So did Joe. Kel nodded. "I'll try." He thumbed the mic. "Where are
you located, Fifty One?"

In the apartment, Paul reacted with anger.  Roy froze, speaking fast as the gun came
to bear directly at his face. "Cannot give you our location." he said.

Brackett frowned, trying again. "We need your address for the ambulance." he said,
prying once again.

DeSoto felt a trickle of sweat run down his forehead. "I repeat. Unable to give location.
EKG will be lead two. Looks like a junctional rhythm." he added, changing tact.

Kel's frown deepened into frustration laced with concern. The odd answer reflected back
out of his expression as he glanced up at Joe and Dixie, perplexed. McCall stayed
on the phone with Captain Stanley. "10-4, 51." he finally said, pointing down at
the speaker so Dixie saw that he had tried unsuccessfully to pinpoint the information.
He shook his head in puzzlement.

Dixie turned back to the phone. "They wouldn't give their position, Captain."

-----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
In the station's office, Cap gaped, still surrounded by the rest of the gang grouped
around him. "That's really strange. I think we'd better have the police come down
there with you, since you're the only line of communication with them. I'll call from
here..... Right."  He hung up and then redialed L.A. for a direct line to active P.D.

------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
Brackett and Early watched the EKG tape as it came in through the telemetry port.
Dixie hung up her phone and joined them.

Joe, was frowning. "Didn't DeSoto say his rate was twenty five?"

Kel blinked. "He did. And the EKG, shows a junctional rhythm of about forty."

Dixie's mouth opened. "He wouldn't make a mistake like that."

Brackett thought hard on it and could only come up with one conclusion. "Maybe
it's not a mistake." he decided.

McCall nodded. "The police are on their way down here now."

--------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Gage finished suctioning around Les's esophageal airway. Then he reconnected
the end of their demand valve to it while Roy secured his I.V. line with tape. 

Paul was hovering nearby. "How's he doing?"

Johnny was frank. "Not good. You have to let us take him to a hospital." he jabbed.

"No way." Paul replied. "Look, I want him well enough to travel. Even if it takes all
night!" he ordered loudly, trembling. Both paramedics could see that Paul needed
a fix of his drug himself and that waiting would only raise the possibility of violence
in him.

Roy told him the truth. "There's a good chance he won't last the night if you refuse
to let him go to a hospital."

Johnny's foot bumped DeSoto's as his eyes fastened on the screen of the
datascope. "He has dropped some!" he said urgently, providing an opportunity.

DeSoto picked up the biocom, not having to feign quick worry. "Rampart, his rate
is still twenty five. But he's getting weaker." he paused. "He's still ashen."

In the base station, Brackett, Early and Dixie were huddled tight over the transmitter.
Kel replied immediately. "Add two milligrams Isoproterenol to the I.V."

##10-4, Rampart.## Roy said quickly, almost on top of Kel's order. That raised more
red flags in all three of the staff. DeSoto wasn't acting normally at all. And that got
them thinking about it. 

Brackett experimented. "Again, what is your position?"

DeSoto could almost feel the muzzle of the gun being held a foot away from
his face. "I'm sorry.."

Paul yelled. "That's enough with the radio!" and he kicked the biocom away.
"Now you're on your own." he snarled.

At Rampart, both doctors and the nurse were shocked at what they had heard.

Brackett blurted out. "They're in some kind of trouble.."

Joe nodded, pulling the most recent EKG tracing nearer to all of them where it
was trailing around their feet. "Again, his rate was different.." he said, pointing.
"Thirty two. And DeSoto said twenty five."

Kel snapped his fingers when a brainstorm struck him. "Dix, get me a street map!"

------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Gage added the Isoproterenol to the I.V. and adjusted the drip while Roy studied
the EKG monitor intently. "A little more.." Roy told him. "More. Easy.. That's good."

Johnny immediately let go of the chamber dial.

Paul was nearby, his foot perched on a chair where he stood. "What's that for?"

Gage didn't look up. "To stabilize his heart rate."

Roy frowned, feeling the man's pulse weaken even further as his vascular system
began to shut down. "Look, if you care anything about this man. Then you'll let us--"

But Paul wasn't listening. His face was glistening with sweat. "I really don't need.. for
long. Just to find out where he hid his stash.. He owes me. After I get that,...he can go
to the hospital, or whatever,.. 'cause I'll be long gone." he mumbled, lost in an almost
haze as his addiction began to bite down, demanding surrease.

DeSoto replied. "He's in no condition to talk. Let alone travel.." he said, delivering pure
oxygen into the airway connector.

Paul whirled on him, his gun shaking. "Well, that's your job. You're going with us!" he
demanded.

------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Joe, Dixie and Kel looked closely at a recent street map spread out onto the counter
top.

Kel pointed. "It's got to be Twenty Fifth Street and something. He must've given another
clue somewhere."

Detective Sargeant McNally arrived and entered the room. "I'm Sgt. McNally. What's about
a couple of missing paramedics?"

Brackett told him. "They're in some kind of trouble. I think we may know how to locate
where they are. Dix, what are the streets that intersect with 25th from here to the station?"

"There's Elm, Oak, Spruce.. Maple.. Ash.. Walnut.."

Kel's eyes widened in discovery. "Ash! He said, "ashen". He even repeated it! That's got to
be where they are."

McNally reached for the red phone. "This is McNally. Concentrate the search at the 
intersection of 25th and Ash. Right. Quietly. And on foot. We have two firemen paramedics
in some kind of trouble."

---------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
Paul was pacing while Gage and DeSoto bent over Les. They had already begun assisted
ventilations on him when his own breathing had faltered a few minutes earlier.

"Why isn't he getting any better?" said Paul, slightly crazed. "He can't even talk." he said,
not comprehending the meaning of his friend's intubation.

Roy didn't move, but he spoke. "We've told you his condition is critical. He only has a chance
at a hospital."

Paul threw up his hands, getting agitated and fretful. His pacing quickened. "I know what 
you've told me. But that hospital bit will not work. He's gotta get better here." he told them.

-----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
Two black and white units pulled up near the intersection they had been sent to
and four officers got out.

The first officer began issuing orders. "You and Carl take this side and we'll go around 
the street. Keep a look out for the fire truck, it's probably hidden nearby.." 

The four officers moved into action.

-----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

The Rampart staff and McNally were waiting anxiously for word.

Early looked up from the EKG monitor that was still running on live display.
"His condition is getting worse."

Kel moved to the black phone. "I'll get an ambulance to go down near the intersection
and wait." He started to dial out.

McNally rubbed his chin. "I sure hope this 25th and Ash hunch is right." he muttered.

Dixie looked at him, her eyes filled with worry. "Don't we all.."

---------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

The first set of policemen searched quietly. One of them looked into a garage window.
"Look here.." he motioned to his partner.   The second cop rejoined him. Inside the dark
space, parked Squad 51. They drew back from the window and peered about at the 
nearest house. "They're probably in that place somewhere." said the older one, pointing at
the Victorian two story next to the garage.

His partner frowned. "But where?"  The first officer motioned, coming up with a plan.
They started slowly toward the first floor doorway when one of the officers spotted the
hemostat that Gage had dropped. He picked it up. It was very close to the stairwell winding
up the side of the house. So the two officers followed that route cautiously, their pistols
ready.  They made it to the landing and soon spotted Johnny's clothes shears on the mat.
Now they knew they had the right door. They squared off on either side of the door frame
and began. "Police officers! Open the door!"

Inside the apartment, Paul was stunned at the announcement, his eyes casting to Roy
and Johnny who were still caring silently for Les. He said the first thing that came to
his fevered mind. "Not on your life!"  he said, whirling to the front door.

Gage saw his chance and he took it. He dove at Paul, knocking him to the floor and
over an arm chair. The gun went off, discharging into the ceiling. The two alerted officers
kicked in the door and rushed over to assist Johnny and soon had Paul spread eagle and
face down, safely away from his weapon. They handcuffed him quickly and began 
reading the confused druggie his rights. "All right, on your feet! You have the right to
remain silent. If you give up the right..." Their voices continued, but neither paramedic
heard them.

DeSoto restored their connection to the hospital as the commotion died down behind him.
"Rampart, this is Rescue 51. Situation is now under control. We can now transport patient."
He said, eyeing up Johnny, who was getting himself together physically and mentally
nearby. 

Kel celebrated and so did the others at the hospital. "There should be an ambulance at
your location any moment. Keep monitoring vitals and get him in here stat. By the way,
are you guys okay?"

The officers took Paul out roughly as the ambulance attendants came in with their
gurney. Roy sighed in relief when he saw Johnny begin to do the same thing. "We're 
fine, Rampart. Thanks to Johnny. Ambulance is here..." DeSoto said, his voice cracking
with emotion.

The two paramedics helped load Les up for the trip into the E.R. and soon, they
were leaving the criminals' hideout den swiftly. The only casualty was their tattered
emotions in the end.

---------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
It was several hours later at Rampart and it was night. There was a nurse on duty in
Fireman Demick's hospital room. Roy and Johnny had been visiting with Roger and 
his wife sharing a few tales along the way. But it was getting late. So both of them stood
respectfully, mindful of Roger's still tender condition.

Roy said. "Don't worry. You just rest. We'll visit you again."

Gage and DeSoto started to leave.

Roger whispered, looking up at them from within his bandages. "One more thing. I know
my firefighting days are over. But I've got it all planned. I'm going back to school on my
G.I. bill. Heck, with that, and my disability, we'll do fine.." he promised.

Molly fussed over her husband, smiling. "Honey, you'd better rest."

Demick sprung his surprise goal on them. "All right, but in about five and a half years,
you'll know who to come to, to get your teeth fixed." he joked.

Gage and DeSoto smiled. "A dentist.. How about that." Johnny celebrated.

Roy lifted up his hand in farewell. "Hang in there, Rog."

Johnny did they same as they opened the door. "Catch you later."

They left the room and the door closed shut on the sight of Roger and Molly 
embracing each other in support. And love.

---------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

The squad backed into the station deftly in the darkness. The squad stopped in its usual
place and Gage and DeSoto got out wearily to head for the kitchen. It had been a long
day, and neither one of them hid how beat they were. 

As they entered the brightly lit room, the firemen all started getting up.  

Chet grinned cheekily when they had finished. "Let's hear it for the returning heroes!" he 
crowed. And he led them all into a hearty round of applause.

Gage grinned, bemoaning happily. "That's enough, guys. We're starved!"

Kelly beamed. "Well, Marco and I made you guys something very special. You two just
have a seat." he said eagerly, putting on some oven mitts and an apron.

The two paramedics sat down as Chet moved to the oven and opened it. He brought out
a steaming dish that smelled heavenly and very rich with cheese. "It's Chili Rellenos a la
Lopez and Irish Stew a la Kelly." he said as Marco retrieved a second huge pot.

Johnny closed his eyes, leaning back with his hands folded behind his aching neck.
"Sounds terrific. Bring it on." he said, cracking open a cloth napkin and tying it around
his throat.

Marco and Chet brought over a pair of plates while the others poured out hot cups of coffee
and pushed forward the salt and pepper shakers to within easy reach.

Roy thought of something as he dug in to the hot food. "Yeah, hey, Chet. How come you've
been doing all the talking. The last time we saw you, we--"

Kelly scoffed good naturedly, continuing where he left off. "...thought I was screwy. I did, too."
he admitted. "However, I've found out differently now." he said.

Gage blinked in surprise, doing his best to chew, fully chipmunk cheeked. "You mean you're
off this psychic kick?"

The other firemen looked at each other knowingly, amused.

Chet drew up to his full modest height. "On the contrary. I'm convinced I have the power!"
he declared mysteriously.

Johnny threw up a hand, doubtfully. "Come on."

Kelly said, "Is that all the thanks I get for saving you guys?" he said, perching his butt on the
back of Roy's chair. 

Roy stopped his eager chewing. "Saving us?" he asked.

Chet nodded eagerly. "Yes, while you were being held hostage, I just put my powerful
thoughts to work, and hoped you'd get out of it." he shrugged happily.

Gage's mouth dropped open and he mocked. "And that convinced you that you're a psychic?"

Kelly angled his head in challenge, not at all offended. "Why you're here. Safe and sound.
Aren't you?"

Johnny sputtered. "Yes, but..."

He was drowned out by the full laughter erupting from the rest of the gang as Kelly failed
keep a straight face any longer as the gem of the week long joke on Johnny sparkled into 
being. It took a while for Johnny to forgive them all, but he finally managed a chuckle or two 
good naturedly before the last bite of supper disappeared into his gut.

Then Roy and he shared a look of gratitude at cheating fate once again that day for long 
moments in deep contentment, at peace, at last.

FIN

Episode Forty Eight, Season Six.
Hostage©, by Susan Keenan©. 
Emergency Theater Live

-----------------------------------------------------------------

Photo:  A heroin freebaser on a bed.

Photo:  A criminal in close up.

Photo:  A gun pointed at you.

Photo:  Trackmarks on a drug user's arm.

Photo:  Cops behind a car, aiming guns at something.

Photo:  Johnny balking at a gun to the ribs.

Photo:  Brackett and Dixie at the base station, puzzled.

Photo:  The gang in the kitchen.

Photo:  A plate of Chili Rellenos.

Photo:  Chet looking into the kitchen from the vehicle bay.

Photo:  Gage smiling contentedly. Good close up.

**************************************************
 
            
                                     End Credits --  Episode Forty Eight (Sixth Season)
                                      
                                           §§     Hostage     §§

                                        :)  This episode is dedicated to all those who get in sticky    :)
                                             situations just trying to help perfect strangers. Good
                                       :)   samaritans world wide? Take a bow.                                   :)    

   
 
The Story Unfolds...

Season Six, Episode Forty Nine
 
 §§    The Helper's High   §§
 
Debut Launch: October 1st, 2007. 


************************************************************
From: "Erin J." <etlhostej@voyagerliveaction.com>  
and "Patti" <theaterhost@voyagerliveaction.com> in a tandem
story posting. Meeting by Patti, Station Scene by Erin.
Date: Thursday, October 25, 2007 6:46 PM 
Subject: When Brain Cells Die.. 
   
It was very early at Rampart. 

And those available paramedic teams from the county who could attend 
the monthly meeting, were there in chairs already gathered inside of 
Doctor Brackett's office. Roy and Johnny included.

Kel turned his eyes toward the five sets of crews again from the slideshow
he had been concluding about the budget of supply ordering they all
had available that quarter. "I just came across this. I know it is just one study 
and we really can't draw any conclusions right now until more is done, but I 
thought some of you all may have some opinions.." he said, glancing up
as he turned off the projector he had been using.

Someone kicked on the lights in the room and more than one firefighter
squinted painfully at the stimulus, grunting.

Brackett noticed. "I know you're all tired. I'll make this short as possible.
Because quite frankly, I found this new concept rather fascinating." he
admitted with a nod. He set down his chalkboard pointer. "How do we die,
gentlemen?" he said, perching on the edge of his desk, in his labcoat.
"Essentially, what happens when we die of a heart attack?" he challenged.

Rick Minelli, a paramedic from 29's, replied. "Well, if his organs are intact, and
he hasn't lost blood, all that's happened is that his heart has stopped beating." 
he shrugged, half in joke. 

"Yes, all true. But what else?" Kel asked the room. 

No one replied.

Dr. Brackett launched into the vein that had so captivated him at the last
AMA conference. "Okay, so Rick's given us the definition of "clinical death". That
man's brain essentially has shut down to conserve oxygen. But think about it,
what has actually died?"

All the paramedics frowned, beginning to think a bit, unable to think outside the box.

"As recently as 1973, the conventional answer was that it was when his cells had died. 
A cardiac arrest patient in that state can't be revived because the tissues of his brain 
and heart has suffered irreversible damage from lack of oxygen. As you all know, that
dying process is understood to begin after just four or five minutes." Kel shared. 
"If the patient doesn't receive cardiopulmonary resuscitation within that time, and if his 
heart can't be restarted soon thereafter, he is unlikely to recover. True?"

The firefighters in the room muttered in agreement. 

Kel went on. "That dogma went unquestioned until last month." Brackett said, holding
up a pointing finger. "Researchers actually looked at oxygen-starved heart cells under a 
microscope at the University, and what they saw ...amazed them. According to Dr. Lance 
Becker, an authority on emergency medicine, found that after one hour, he couldn't see 
evidence the heart cells or any body cells at that point, had died."

Gage's mouth flopped open and he uncrossed his leg from his knee. "What? That's 
impossible." he said numbly. "With no breathing or pulse he should have b--"

Brackett began to chuckle. "We thought they'd done something wrong, too. So we checked, 
too. On our own donors to science. It is a fact, all cells cut off from their blood supply died 
only hours later in their petris dishes."

Roy was stunned. "But.. if the cells are still alive, why can't doctors revive someone who has 
been dead for an hour?" he said, making the ironic connection. 

Kel's face grew serious. "Because once the cells have been without oxygen for more 
than five minutes, they die when their oxygen supply is resumed with any aggressive
resuscitation activity done by us, as first responders."

The room erupted in dismay and shocked babble. Johnny flushed, unpleasantly discomforted.
And he looked to Roy, who was surprisingly vocal along with the others.

Kel hushed them down. "This is why I'm sharing everything we're learning about this
phenomena with you today. We may be on the cresting edge of one of medicine's newest 
frontiers: treating... the dead."

Dr. Brackett's paramedic teams returned to their seats, their coffee cups long forgotten.

They listened as their medical director went over the stunning fix for the facts they just
couldn't believe.  Kel didn't abuse their wounded senses. He told it like it was.
"This new view of cell death suggests the process is not passive extinguishment, like a 
candle flickering out when you cover it with a glass, but an active biochemical event 
triggered by "reperfusion," or the resumption of an oxygen supply." Dr. Brackett
sat down next to Johnny and engaged his worried eyes. "We know that mitochondria 
control the process known as apoptosis. This is the programmed death of abnormal cells 
that is the body's primary defense against cancer. Only now, it looks to us," said Kel. "as 
if that cellular surveillance mechanism cannot tell the difference between a cancer cell and 
a cell being reperfused with oxygen. Something throws the switch that makes the cell die
right then. And gentlemen, with this realization comes another.. That standard emergency
room procedure has it exactly backwards when it comes to how to revive someone."

"The process for us as doctors and paramedics are still remaining the same." Brackett
pursed his lips. "Say someone collapses on the street of cardiac arrest, and if he's lucky, 
he will receive immediate CPR from some of you in those first minutes, maintaining 
circulation until he can be revived in the hospital. But what about the rest who have been
gone 10 or 15 minutes or more without a heartbeat by the time they reach the emergency 
department? What happens then? Consider our discovery about those cells. What happens?"

DeSoto's face solidified. "We give them oxygen," Roy whispered. "We jolt the heart with
the paddles, we pump in epinephrine to force it to beat, so it's taking up more oxygen." 

Brackett stayed silent, and grinned levelly, without joy. "And his blood-starved heart muscle 
is suddenly flooded with oxygen, precisely the situation that leads to cell death."

Gage was bothered, greatly. "But he's.. he's dead, right? No hope of recovery by.. by ..
by anyone's standards. At least, that's what the books tell us.."

Kel's eyes sparkled with a glowing fire of passion. "And that's what Doctors' Morton, Early
and myself are looking to change, someday. We want to aim on reducing the oxygen uptake,
slow metabolism in these long time but not yet clinically dead people, and adjust their blood 
chemistry for gradual and safe reperfusion of oxygen. And we are experimenting with that
by using chilling measures along with the prompt use of a heart lung machine.."

"Isn't that a little expensive?" asked Rick.

"What isn't in medicine nowadays?" Dr. Brackett shrugged.

"Insurance covers a lot of resuscitation care I've found." said Roy. "No one usually minds.."
he said, remembering from the time he had been resuscitated from electrical shock from
a roofing wire. "...when a life's on the line." he agreed.

Kel shared the rest of his news. "Our new study has so far involved just thirty four patients, 
but 80 percent of them were discharged from the hospital.... alive. In the old study of 
traditional methods, that figure is still hovering at about 15 percent."

"Wow." said Johnny, stunned. 

Brackett nodded. "It seems that lowering body temperature from 37 to 33 degrees Celsius
appears to slow the chemical reactions touched off by reperfusion that triggers cell death.
We're working on developing an injectable slurry of salt and ice to cool the blood quickly 
that one day, I hope to make part of your standard emergency-response kits."
Brackett concluded. "That's all I have this month. Stay safe out there fellas."

It was very heavy food for thought for all as the squad teams left for their trucks and
the streets.

"Think of the implications, Roy." Gage said, when they were back cruising their route
for the station.

"I'm trying not to. Not too deeply. Just think how many folks are going to die now after
that ten or fifteen minute pulseless mark,... because of us." he said soberly.

Gage was quiet for a long time. But then he tried again. "Dead's dead
right then, Roy, in those situations. Just think of it this way, if we don't try 
something. They're dead for sure anyways."

Roy finally relaxed, seeing the wisdom of Johnny's words. 

----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Johnny and Roy returned from the paramedic meeting with Brackett. Roy 
commented, “I’ll be honest with you, that’s one of the more informative 
meetings we’ve had in a long time.” 

Johnny said, “You know it, partner. Definitely a lot of new stuff to think about.”

The guys walked into the kitchen and were greeted by the rest of A shift. 
Stoker was manning the coffee pot and asked, “You boys want a cup?”

Roy replied, “Sure.”

Johnny added, “Sounds good. The coffee at Rampart was mud today. I think 
one of the students made it.”

Mike brought over the coffee as Marco finished setting the table. It was a 
simple breakfast of eggs on English muffins with bacon on the side. Hank 
let the boys eat a bit before he started. “All right guys, before we get into 
breakfast and how our days off went, let me touch on a couple of things 
from the department.” 

Everybody continued eating but now turned their attention to Hank as they 
did. Hank continued, “First and foremost, equipment is going to be 
stretched thin for a while. Most of the county went down to help in San 
Diego with the fiery mess down there. Which means we’re going to have 
more ground to cover then normal so stay on your toes, boys. It’s gonna 
be a long shift. Secondly, the inspection that was scheduled to happen 
later today has been postponed since Chief was called down to San Diego, 
too.” he snorted. 

Marco chuckled. 

“Now for the chores. Marco, you’re cooking again. Chet you’ve got your office..."

Kelly grimaced and rolled his eyes about having to clean the bathrooms.

Stanley ignored him.
"Mike, check out Big Red. I have a feeling we’ll be giving her quite a workout. 
Johnny, the dayroom and sweep out the bay, pal. Roy, the dorms are yours.”

The guys finished their food and were all nursing their second cups of 
coffee when Hank finished the official stuff. “Now that that’s all taken care 
of, how was everybodys' days off?” 

Mike started, “Quiet for the most part, the kids weren’t home, so my wife and 
I caught up on some much needed 'us' time.” Chet grinned wolfishly. Mike 
cut him off before he could say anything, “No, Chet, I’m not giving the details 
out.”

Chet groaned as everybody chuckled. Roy said, “Busy as usual, huh?" he quipped
at Stoker. "Me, too. Chris won his baseball game yesterday and my youngest helped 
Joanne in the kitchen while I tackled the honey to do list.” 

Johnny said, “Hey, Roy, I helped, too.” he complained.

Roy chuckled, “Oh, yeah. We promised Johnny some of Joanne’s 
home cooking if he helped. Needless to say my honey to do list for  
next month should be quite short. Thanks, Johnny."

Johnny grinned, “Before I helped Roy, I actually went on a bit of a hike. Felt 
good. Haven’t been up to the mountains in a while. I kept an eye on the news 
and figured if I didn’t hike then, I might not get the chance to for quite a while.”
he said, jerking a finger over to the TV set displaying brush fire news in 
the neighboring county that they were all not paying attention to.

Hank smiled, “Good idea, pal.”

Mike looked over at Hank, “So Cap, what did you do with your days off?”

Hank’s grin quickly turned to a blush. “Uh,.. nothing, nothing at all.”

Chet cut in, “Cap, with that look, I’d say either tell us now or the Phantom 
will find out on his own.” 

Hank knew Chet was right, “Well, my mother in law is in, but mercifully left 
me alone for the most part. I took care of MY honey to do list and then took 
my wife out to dinner.” Hank’s blush deepened, “We... decided to add some 
extra spice to the evening and went upstairs when we got home.  Yeah, note 
to self : Play nice when mother in laws are around. We got a little carried away 
as we were, um,... seasoning a little, and broke the bed." he said, stretching
a little stiffly, rubbing his neck. "My mother in law heard the crash and instead 
of wanting to know if we were okay, just yelled because we woke her up. So 
now we need a new bed and I could personally use an iron lock to keep her 
out of the house from now on.”

As much as they tried to hold the laughter back, the guys lost it when Hank 
finished his story. Luckily, they had finished their coffee so they didn’t redecorate 
the kitchen table, but everybody WAS laughing so hard, that they had tears 
in their eyes. 

Then the tones rang out.

-------------------------------------------------------------------

Photo: Paramedics in attendance at a meeting with Kel Brackett.

Photo:  Brackett, chiding remark in his office.

Photo: Gage all flustered in a Rampart chair.

Photo:  Roy stunned at a meeting, close.

Photo: Two fellow paramedics, talking at a session.

Photo: Chet, Stoker and Marco doing chores in the bunk room.

Photo:  Stoker serving food to Roy and Johnny.

Photo:  Cap, serious expression, close.

Photo:  Stoker throwing on a turnout jacket, making for the engine.

************************************************** 
From: patti keiper <pattik1@hotmail.com> 
Date: Thu Nov 1, 2007 1:17 pm 
Subject: The Fiery Display.. 

##Station 51. Snorkle Nine. Unknown type fire. 713 North Wilson. 
713 North Wilson. Cross street Hazeltine. Time out : 9:06.## said
L.A. after the klaxon had sounded.

"Let's go. Marco, turn the stove off." Cap said as he rose from his chair with
less than his normal alacrity and a huge yawn.

Chet noticed. "Still a little stiff?" he teased Hank as the two of them hurried out.

"Nothing a hot shower won't fix later on, I'm sure." Cap grinned.

"Or a cold one." Kelly chittered in amusement under his breath as he yanked 
open the rear door of the Ward. 

Mike Stoker had already taken the wheel. "It's about five miles away, Cap." he
said to Stanley.

"Well, that's nice for once." Cap sighed. "Fire can't spread that far in just two 
minutes. Use your best judgement on our speed. The squad'll no doubt clear 
the way ahead of us like usual."

"I'll airhorn at every intersection." Stoker decided.

"Yep. Good plan. That was smart thinking." agreed Hank as he leaned forward
to put his white striped black helmet onto his head.

Both trucks pulled out code three onto the boulevard. Lights and sirens
cleared the road of traffic as they headed towards their destination.

In the cab, Cap realized that they had no forewarned advantage as they got closer 
and closer to their assigned address. "Keep heading north. We'll approach this
from upwind standard since we aren't going to be able to see any telltale smoke
until we're on top of it." he said, eyeing up the interfering cloud of brush fire 
smoke rising up on the horizon in the next county behind the sprawl of suburban 
businesses that they were passing. "There's too much debris already in the air."

Kelly tipped near their ears over the roar of the sirens.
"It's amazing that anybody's still breathing down here today, Cap. With the smog 
this bad, I won't be surprised at all if the squad gets called away to a respiratory 
emergency before we're done with this fire one..." said Chet. "..whatever it is."

They rounded the block following Squad 51 and immediately slowed when they saw
what had to be their target. Roy and Johnny were already getting out and into their
turnout jackets. Their heads were angled upwards, in between two tall apartment
buildings just emptying of distressed pajama'ed residents.

Mike Stoker started laughing. "A cinder fire. Up there." he said pointing to something
smoking and moving in the breeze above a picnic table.

A palm tree was fully involved in its crown. Mike politely moved through the crowd
of growing numbers of morning clothed people in their curlers, T-shirts and boxers
in order to get to the hydrant in their midst at the base of it. 

A panicky auntie type old woman hollered. "What is it?! I don't see anything on 
the roof.." she exclaimed for the fifty or so others who milled about as the fire
alarm continued to sound inside the two apartment buildings.

Marco explained, helping Stoker unscrew a cover on the hydrant to turn on the
pressure with his hydrant wrench. "It's just a tree fire, ma'am. Your buildings 
aren't involved at all. They're fine." he explained as he watched Cap jog back to
the engine to call off the snorkle and update L.A. to the situation.

Roy and Johnny joined the firefighters once the hose had been set up from the 
reel line. They parked next to Lopez, Cap and Stoker while Chet milled about 
in a self chosen job of calming the neighbors and turning off the fire panels inside
the entryways closest to the courtyard where they were all standing.

Roy smiled. "I wonder what set that off." he said, eyeing up the spectacular tree of
fire. It looked for all the world like a flaming lollipop.

Stoker grinned pointing towards the mountains. "Do you feel the Santa Anas any more
stinging your face?" he joked. 

Roy concentrated. "Hey yeah, it's dead calm."

Gage started chuckling. "Well, I'll be. Don't tell me a spark settled up there from that 
fire that's still miles away.."

Kelly rubbed his nose, already bored. "More like dozens of miles. Johnny. And just a 
lucky ember, too, to land in some dry fronds skirting the top."

A commotion attracted them as a woman in a gaudy pink robe met them.
"Oh, the poor tree." said the old aunt in her pink curlers. "Will it survive after burning up
so bad?"

Roy politely tipped his helmet. "I don't see why not. Palms are monocots, just like corn. And
just as pithy. This tree could react like the fire was actually a drought and resprout its leaves
again with a little extra water."

"But the ban.." she fussed, showing them the notice the city fire department had posted
in their yard on the fence.

Hank noticed her worry. "Tell you what. Once we strip away the blackened sooty parts
still smoking up there, we'll give it a good dousing around the roots before we leave, 
okay?" he said to her.

"Oh, what nice young men. Yes, captain. I'm sure our tree would like that very much." she 
said with a face shaking nod of gratitude that shook her ample jowls. "A long drink of 
water. It must be even thirstier now." she said as Stoker expertedly snuffed the flames and 
pulled down the ruined, charred palm leaves so Marco could stomp out remaining sparks.

Hank eyed up what was left of the trunk and its upper tip, poking up forlornly into the sky.
"I'm sure we can fix the problem, ma'am." he said diplomatically. "Why don't you just return
back to your apartment and fix yourself a nice cup of tea while we clean the rest of t-"

Chet's amused informative chatter gave way to a shout of authority. "Hey, DeSoto, Gage, 
get over here! Come quick!"  He was near what was a picnic table area in the middle of 
the huge crowd of people still not convinced that the fire danger was over.
"I've found a man down. I think he's unconscious!"

Gage's head snapped around. "Chet? I'll get the gear!" he said, hurrying back towards 
the squad.

Hank used his tall height and large bulk to make his way through the crowd of apartment 
dwellers until he reached Kelly's side. "What's the problem? A cardiac?" he said, quickly
confirming a pulse at their patient's neck. 

Chet straightened up from the respirations he had been checking on a young teen male who 
was still seated upright in a lawn chair. His lower half was covered in a beach towel while his 
upper half was curiously decorated with an odd kind of sculpture.

"Is he plastered?" Roy asked, seeing what Chet and Cap had seen, as he squatted down 
next to the teenager, who was snoring loudly, in a condition that was far deeper than sleep.

"With that kind of signature left behind by his friends? I'd say so." Chet stated seriously.

A stack of empty beer cans was balancing neatly in a tower rising up from the middle of the drunk
boy's forehead. DeSoto sighed and knocked them off so he could better monitor his patient's face.
"Looks like it. Cap, he's breathing normal." DeSoto announced after listening for a few seconds.
"I'll start him on O2, precautionary." he said, turning on the flow on the tank he had brought.

"Try to wake him, too. Maybe his friends'll step forward before he can rat on them about partying
out here in the courtyard all night. That way, we'll learn an identity and maybe the full story." Hank 
said. "I'll call the police for him only if I have to."

"You read my mind." DeSoto sighed, tipping the man's head back farther so his snoring ended.

Stanley nodded. "L.A., Engine 51. Respond an ambulance to our location. We've a teen down
with an altered level, involving possible alcohol ingestion."

Johnny hurried up with all the critical case gear:  the defib, biophone, drug and I.V. boxes. "Roy?"
he asked, eyeing up their patient. 

DeSoto finally grinned as he began opening up the passed out man's shirt. "He's fine. 
Can't you tell by the unpanicking reactions of all his neighbors? So far, I'm  just smelling 
ETOH on board. And our neuro check is coming right up.." he began as he rubbed a firm 
set of knuckles hard into the young man's sternum.

The kid woke up with exaggerated startlement, his arms and legs flailing like a puppet. "Whaa?
Not an--anoth...ne, Brandonnn ugh... I's I've.. had enuff.." he declared. His face fell into one of 
confusion at the hissing oxygen mask he found sitting over his nose and mouth. He coughed,
pulling it off. "Whoa." he said, looking up and seeing the smoking black stump of a tree 
a short distance away. "Did I do something bad last night that I can't remember?" he
mumbled, speaking almost clearly.

Johnny chuckled. "Nothing past excessive drinking. You're innocent of arson if that's what
you're wondering. How do you feel now?" He said, putting the oxygen back on.

The teen turned green. "Rotten. Thanks for making me th- think about it."

Roy inquired gently, looking down. "Just the beer?"

"Yeah..." the kid moaned. "I feel like I'm gonna puke for a week."

An angry mother stepped forward. "Good. And I hope you've learned your lesson, Charles
Emerson Baxter. You should know better than to raid your father's cooler when he's working.
And you're still underage! What's got into your head you fool boy? Now look what you've done.." 
she said, pointing to the luckless tree and the pile of beer cans littering the ground around 
his chair and the bright red flash of lights bathing them from both fire trucks.

Hank raised his hand, "Uh, ma'am. The wind's to blame for the fire."

The irate mother held up an equally commanding hand.

"But he IS to blame for THIS kind of blaze." she said pointing to her angry features with 
an elegant fingernail. "Is my son gonna get it when his father comes home." she promised.
"So no, don't treat him for anything. I want him to feel every pounding moment of
that hangover he's brought on himself, and then some." she said, pulling off the teenager's
rich oxygen supply with a snap of its elastic strap.

Johnny winced almost as bad as the boy.

"Okay. Just sign right here." Cap said, taking the A.M.A. form Gage had pulled out of
the drug box's base compartment to hand to him. "This cancels our care, and the 
ambulance."

"Ambulance?!" the mother sputtered. "Oh, Charles, you are in worse trouble now. You're
bothering these fire department paramedics, too?" she said, signing her name to the 
signature line with an angry rip of Johnny's green pen that she had 'borrowed' with an 
abrupt snatch from where it rested in his shirt pocket. "Now get up. I don't care if you
fall down again. On your feet right this instant. You're gonna drag yourself inside, wash 
yourself up, and get right into your bed. When you're sober, YOU'RE the one who's 
gonna call up school and tell them why you weren't in today."

The teen rose with alacrity, swaying a bit, but fully conscious. Roy and Johnny's vigil
dropped. "He's not intoxicated to a life threatening level, Cap. We can clear." Johnny
told Hank as they watched the mother lead her tipsy son off by the ear.

"Okay. Marco, Chet, toss the debris into the dumpster. Leaves, beer cans and all. Make
it neat. Stoker, reel the hose back up if you're sure the tree's out for good."

"It is." Mike promised. "She's good and floating even." he said with a wink for the tree loving
senior.

Cap got back on his walkie talkie. "L.A. Engine 51. This palm tree fire's fully extinguished. 
No arson investigation needed. It's confirmed natural causes."

##Engine 51, L.A.. 10-4. Time cleared at : 9: 44.##

Chet saundered back after making sure that every last person in the crowd understood
that things were completely safe. "So..." he said, rubbing his hands to warm them.
"Chuck didn't upchuck." he said grandly to the paramedics amicably.

"Nope." giggled Gage.

"But he will later." Chet said. "And I'm speaking from experience here." he said.

Gage laughed out loud. "You? Having a past reputation as a party animal? That'll be
the day." 

"It's all true. Just ask my sister next time you see her."

"No thanks.." Roy teased. "Some things a guy just doesn't need to know. Like our
mutual conversation topic of this morning..." he prodded.

"Hey...I didn't pry." Kelly said, grinning as he got back into the engine for the trip home.
He shut the door behind himself soundly.

Gage glanced up at Hank and Roy. "Well, maybe somedays, he DOES learn." he
said in amazement.

"Enjoy it while it lasts.." said Cap, rubbing his tired eyes. "Okay, that's good. Call us
in as returning to base, Roy, would ya? I wanna write this report now while I can still
recall all the gory details." he quipped with a roll of sarcastic eyes. "Guess I'm getting
a little fuzzy because I'm still hungry." he said.

"Eating'll fix that, Cap. All right, I'll call in for ya." said DeSoto, closing the last lock on the 
store compartments holding their gear. "Johnny, are ya ready?"

Gage nodded and for an answer, leaped into the squad cab eagerly, thinking of the 
hot breakfast they had all had to abandon.

------------------------------------------------------------------

Photo:  Mike Stoker standing by the Ward Engine.

Photo:  A fire in a palm tree.

Photo:  Cap, Roy in helmets, looking down.

Photo:   A drunk teen, with a stack of beercans on his forehead.

Photo:   Stoker, Gage and Chet in turnouts by the engine.

Photo:   Three witnesses watching a scene.

Photo:   A good close up of Mike Stoker.

**************************************************
From: Erin James (etlhostej@voyagerliveaction.com) 
Subject: Bunch Brunch
Sent: Thu 11/01/07 8:25 PM 

Mike turned his attention back to the road. Cap for his part was trying to 
ignore the road and the rather short, but unpleasant report ahead of him.

In the squad, both Johnny and Roy were thinking about breakfast. 

Johnny said, "Hey partner, you mind if we eat before we write?"
 
Roy smiled, "Not at all. I'm thinking everybody's still hungry, too."
 
Any further reply from Johnny was cut off as both trucks backed into the station. 
The trucks emptied and Marco asked, "Okay, who can handle what today?"
 
Hank replied, "I'm game for anything but a lot of spice. It's still a bit early for that."
 
Marco smiled. He knew his crew mates didn't have quite the stomach he 
did for spices. "Not a problem, Cap."
 
Mike said, "We might as well start knocking out the chores while Marco cooks. 
Marco, I'll be out here. If you need anything. Just holler."
 
"Will do." said Lopez.
 
The crew broke up. Hank grumbled over his lack of food. ::All right stomach, 
I'm listening.!:: he thought. He grabbed a can of soda from the fridge in the 
kitchen then headed for his office. :: To write that blasted report.:: 
Hank grumbled as he sat down. "Paperwork. Way too much paperwork. Even 
on the small calls." He started in, highly distracted by his growling guts.
 
At the same time, the rest of the crew decided to tackle their chores. They 
knew they'd have to be ready for a lot more than usual, so the guys quickly 
went to work on their chores. 

Marco looked through the slim pickings in the kitchen and decided to pull together 
a hearty but mild brunch. He started whistling as he decided his plans.

Once he was done detailing Big Red, Mike walked into the dayroom to check 
on the fires. It looked like all of Santa Barbara County was working them on
the news that was still broadcasting the event live.

Forty-five minutes after the crew arrived back, brunch was ready. 
Marco walked out into the bay and yelled, "Chow's up."
 
That brought the stampeding feet of the others in. Hank still wasn't
smiling as he trailed in last.
 
Nearby, as he sat at the table, Roy noticed the news, "Anything good, Mike?"
 
Stoker grimaced, "They still can't really contain the beast. And they think it 
might be arson. Although it's a bit too soon to tell."
 
Johnny groaned and shook his head, "Oh, that's just lovely." Johnny quickly 
set the table as Roy got the drinks. "Those are the worst kind."

"Nothing for us today though. Glad it's them." Stanley mumbled sternly.
 
Roy cast a look towards Hank, who was quietly eyeing up the rolls.
"Ok, guys. I'm just a bit more grumpier than normal today. Didn't eat quite as 
much as I should have before work." Hank admitted, apologizing.
 
"That's okay, Cap." Kelly dismissed, still mesmerized by the TV set.
 
The guys sat down to a large brunch of eggs, bacon, chicken fried steak and 
gravy, and steamed vegtables. Chet smiled, "Jeepers, Marco, maybe we 
should have brunch more often." he said when the smell finally captured his
full attention.
 
Marco smiled, "Nah, mi amigo, this is just because..." He cut himself short 
because he didn't want to jinx the shift as a long or bad one. The others 
understood and didn't say anything else.
 
When the guys were mostly done, and with his hunger gone, Hank asked, "Roy, 
Johnny, anything interesting out of the meeting this morning?"
 
Roy said, "Mostly the same old stuff, but Brackett did come up with a very
interesting story."
 
"Oh?" said Stanley, leaning on his elbows tiredly.
 
Johnny replied, "Yeah."
 
Chet whined, "Well, spit it out, Gage."
 
"All right, Kelly, don't get your bunkers in a knot."  Johnny took a quick drink of 
milk. "He told us that rewarming a victim is one of the most hazardous aspects 
of hypothermia because the cold-constricted capillaries can open all at once, 
causing a sudden drop in blood pressure."

Roy nodded, adding more. "And that the heart, still cold, can lapse into deadly 
spasms."

Lopez piped up. "Oh, I've heard about that.  Wasn't it just last year, when a crew of 
shipwrecked Catalina fishermen were hauled to safety after spending an hour and 
a half in the winter sea? The news said they stepped below deck for a hot 
drink, and dropped dead, all sixteen of them."
 
The rest of the engine crew were stunned and amazed. Chet couldn't pass up the 
opportunity, "A hot drink and drop dead, huh..  Gage did you make them 
something that day?" 
 
Roy, Marco, Mike and Hank groaned. It was going to be a long shift if the 
kid sides of Johnny and Chet were starting in early. 
 
Johnny didn't miss a beat. "Nah, Kelly. They had must have had some of 
your 'healthy' cooking." he said without changing his expression or looking up.

Chet's jaw snapped shut, for once, unable to think of a reply. 
 
Roy lifted his coffee cup in salute, "Ah, the pigeon is sharp this morning."
he grinned at his partner.
 
"Told ya I cleared my head in the mountains. Yeah, I'm sharp." Gage said
to DeSoto.

Chet groaned as the guys laughed good naturedly when Johnny pretended
to slick back his hair with style.
 
Once everybody was done eating, Marco asked, "Anybody want 
seconds?" 

Varied "no thanks but it was amazing" replies rang out. Marco smiled 
and started to clear the table. The others headed over to catch up on the 
news while they still could. 
 
But they didn't get the time. Just as Marco finished washing the last dish, the 
klaxon rang out again. Hank muttered, "At least we were able to finish a meal this 
time." he added as the crew headed out for the apparatus bay.

-----------------------------------------------------------

Photo: Roy and Johnny in the squad, driving.

Photo:  The gang piling out of the vehicles in the bay.

Photo:  Cap working on a report in his office.

Photo:  Marco with a cooking pan, grinning big.

Photo:  Cap watching Gage stuff his face.

Photo:  Chet commenting on Johnny while eating.

Photo:  Johnny eating a plateful of eggs, in a med shot.

Photo:  Roy smiling at Stoker.
 

**************************************************
Subject: The Last Hours? 
From: crash200225 (crash200225@yahoo.com) 
Sent: Fri 11/02/07 9:48 PM 
 

It didn't take long for the engine and squad to respond to the 
address for an 'unknown type rescue'. The small house and yard had 
seen better days, but still had the feel of a well loved home.

A woman appeared on the porch as the sirens announced Station 51's 
arrival. 

"What do you want?" The woman demanded the moment Cap started up the 
walkway. "I didn't call you."

"We had a report of someone needing help here." replied Cap kindly 
as the others came up to the porch. "Is everything all right?" 

"Nosy neighbors..." the woman mumbled, then sighed. "Thanks for 
coming, but there is nothing you can do. Everything that can be 
done, has been done."

Just as Cap opened his mouth to ask what she meant, a loud alarm came 
from inside the house. The woman flew back into her home, leaving 
the door open. Roy and Johnny both knew the sound well. They had 
heard it at Rampart and it wasn't good. They all entered the open 
door.

It was a bit of a surprise see a well equipped hospital room in what 
once must have been the living room. The woman was standing by the 
hospital bed, her back to the men. "It's okay, Harry. I'm here. 
You pulled one of the EKG leads off again. Did you get jealous 
because I was talking to a bunch of good looking firemen?"

A half choking, half chuckle came from the man in the bed.

"Ma'am, we are paramedics..." Roy began, but was cut off.

"I know what you are, but you aren't taking him to the hospital." 
the woman stated. "He has end-stage cancer and only a day left, 
maybe a few hours. He wants to die at home, not in some sterile 
hospital. We've been in too many of them over the last two years. 
You can't have him, not now."

The woman was getting agitated and bordering on hysterics when Mike 
stepped up. "Barb? It's me, Mike."

"M..Mike?" stuttered Barb. "You can't let them take Harry. You 
know when he started treatments that I promised him if they didn't 
work, I'd be with him in the end at home. You can't take him!"

"The three of us have been friends for a long time. I know what 
Harry wants. We talked about it before...." said Mike in a calm 
voice, while looking at Cap. "... well, the last time we beached it 
in the dune buggy. Why don't we go into the kitchen and get a glass 
of water. You need to sit down for a minute. Roy and John will 
watch after Harry for a few minutes."

Cap nodded his approval as Mike led Barb to another room. She was 
crying and holding onto Mike's arm like it was her lifeline. The 
whole time she muttered sadly, "You can't have him." over and over 
again like a mantra.

Roy decided they would contact Rampart afterJohnny checked the 
machines hooked up to the dying man. Chet stood by to assist if 
needed, while Marco and Cap went to see about Mike and Barb. 

Cap wondered. ::How close was his engineer to this couple? Why 
hadn't he mentioned having a friend who was so ill?::

---------------------------------------------------------

Photos: None.

**************************************************
From: "Erin J." <etlhostej@voyagerliveaction.com>
and "Patti" <theaterhost@voyagerliveaction.com> in 
a tandemly written story posting.
Date: Sun Nov 18, 2007 5:03 pm 
Subject: The Final Fight

When the others were gone, Roy and Johnny made a point
to minimize their presence officially by leaving their medical
gear sitting by the front door, unopened.

A slight gesture with their eyes, set Chet Kelly to guard and
attend it until they could learn about any existence of legal
papers concerning the terminally ill man.

When Gage folded up his stethoscope and stuffed it into
his jacket pocket, the pale eyes physically relaxed around 
their pain. A feeble hand tapped the bed, twice, in
unmistakable invitation.

Smiling gently, both firemen took off their helmets and set
them onto their laps so they could sit on either side of the
bed's edges, to join him.

Roy dropped all formality and adopted an open and honest
candidness while Johnny instinctively eyed up the treatment 
measures in place discreetly. "So, it's been a long time."
DeSoto said in greeting.

Harry managed to cough. "L-Long enough. I.. I've finally
accepted the facts.. the way they are. My....only regret, is
that she's--  Nothing now, makes her happy any more."
he said weakly. 

Gage absently tapped the regulator on the flowing oxygen
tank, adding comfort for comfort's sake to his laboring lungs.
"You must love Barb very much to be fighting so long."

The man's eyes darted for the first time from their tightened
false calm to the door through which his wife had been led.
"Oh, yes.." he said, tearing up. "Very much. But we...both
know it's time."  His voice cut off as a spasm of pain wracked
his body. He grimaced.

Gage gripped his hand, offering its warmth to the bony fingers,
offering serenity in his face. "Is it too bad right now?"

Again, the head pressed against the ample pillows, and nodded
yes. "But I don't want her to see it. " he begged. "This has been 
such a...horrible disease. She's....so delicate."

Roy smiled, finally deciding that the cancer was in his bones.
"I only wish my wife, were half as devoted." DeSoto whispered
kindly.

A laughing glimmer of affection made it past the pain in the  
bright blue of the man's eyes. "Barb's my life. Still is...  And I'm 
only afraid of the past tense she'll have to start telling folks about
me, tomorrow." Harry gasped. "I know she's gonna hurt, even 
worse than I do now."

DeSoto refolded a blanket that had fallen in Barb's haste to return
order to the monitors methodically displaying Harry's core vitals. "Where's
your nurse? You've several venous catheters from what we can see."
Roy wondered a moment, before pulling the sheet back up under the 
man's chin, to rewarm him.

Harry cackled wetly.
"Sent away. There's.. there's no point is there? Someone like that nurses
life and I'm a hopeless case. She was nineteen, fresh out of her clinicals, 
far too innocent for me. I was to be her first loss. We decided we 
didn't want to be her number one." said the man. "That wouldn't be
a good legacy at all."

Roy nodded respectfully, taking full measure of the man's pain on his soul.
He noticed what Johnny was doing. And approved. Then he spoke. "Nothing
will be set before Barb, that she can't handle, because life just doesn't ever
work that way. For anybody. And I sincerely believe that." DeSoto told Harry
softly.

Sudden bright tears flooded anew in the dying man's eyes. "Ah, but she's
going to be so lonely without me." he sobbed, his veneer of strength cracking.

Gage flipped a switch to silence the tachycardia alarm, before it went off
as the pulse he could barely feel under Harry's sweaty skin began to race.
He had noticed the collection of framed pictures surrounding the bed, and
over the burning logs in the fire place. "She'll have the kids. They're not here
now, but they will be. For the both of ya, right?"

Harry's face faltered with remembered sting. "I asked them not to come. 
Not until after. I don't want my grandkids to see me this way as their
strongest memory of me. They're all still too young to ....understand what
death is.." he declared.

------------------------------------------------------------------------------
Marco walked into the kitchen not long after Mike and Barb. Mike said, 
"Hey, pal."

"Hey Mike, you doing okay?"

"Yeah. Barb, let me introduce you to somebody. This is Marco Lopez, our 
shift's resident chili expert."

Barb smiled sadly, "Good to meet you Marco. Just wish it was under better 
circumstances." She offered them glasses of water from the sink, still
actively fretting as she paced back and forth.

Marco said, "So do all of us ma'am trust me." he said, passing on the offer.

Barb and Mike both drank their water. Near them, Cap stayed quiet and kept 
an eye on both of them, just in case.

--------------------------------------------------------------------------
Roy deftly adjusted the crooked oxygen cannula in the man's nose. Then
he busied himself with refilling its port's humidifier on the wall with a pitcher
of saline that had been resting nearby on a homemade table. "They'll be here
tomorrow then." DeSoto told him, not looking away. "Helping her every step
of the way, once you're apart." He squeezed Harry's shoulder. "Sir, I wouldn't
worry about anything at all about them. Barb'll be well cared for."

Gage let go of the man's hand and folded it carefully back onto its cushion.
"What do you want, for right now?  That, you can do, and control." he joked.

Harry seemed to grow more transparent as his defensive smile faded and
as his heart continued to struggle with both the cancer and his warring emotions.
"Help me fight." he said at last. "For just a little while longer." he pleaded. "I..I-I
don't want her to know, ...how hard it's been."

Johnny rubbed his mouth, growing uncomfortable. "You mean, you want some
kind of pain med from us?" he stated, realizing the risks.

Harry nodded. "Can you? I can't hide it any more. I just don't have the strength 
left."

Roy swallowed, but still kept smiling faintly."Sir, you know if we do anything
intravenously, we'll have to transport you."

The man's machines protested in response. "Can't you make an exception in
my case?"

"That depends on a couple of things that we don't have the authority ourselves
to decide." Gage told him, still disturbed.

Harry interpretted Johnny's expression accurately. "Look, I'm not asking you to
kill me. Quite the opposite. I just want to end this new pain."

Johnny's face stiffened into neutrality. "I'm sorry, sir, but we can't. Not in your 
current condition, you'll pass out and perhaps not wake up again. Do you want 
that?"

Harry melted visibly.

Gage shared more bad news. "If your primary physician's decided that your I.V.
pump running now, is where it's supposed to be, then he's the only one who can
change it."

"He's out of town! I've... I'm going a lot faster than any of us ever realized. Guess 
it's from all the stress."

Johnny sighed, unsure of what to say but very clear on what position they had to 
take. So he took it to the next level. "Sir, do you have do not resuscitate orders?" 
he asked bluntly.

Harry was growing angry and that was adding some momentum to his shaking voice.
"Of course I do, they're.... she keeps them in that drawer over there.. In the night
stand."

Roy reached over, hesitating when he saw the man's face stiffen into another wave
of nauseating pain. Finally he had them. "Sir, do you have the originals? These 
look like only partial copies."

"What?" gasped the feather light, sick man. "Wait. I know they're.. they're around
here somewhere. She's always so careful with all our papers whenever we draw 
one up. She always... puts it into the safety deposit box at the bank."

Roy and Johnny exchanged a knowing look and failed to hide their dismay at
a truth revealed.

Harry saw their faces and he frowned again. "What? Is...is that a problem?" he
whispered, sucking in a series of difficult breaths.

DeSoto stayed frank and honest. "I'm afraid it is. Only the top, legal drafts in
ink, are valid. They...they have to be displayed and present in order to override
our rescue protocols." he said, leafing through them.

"I don't understand."

"We can't leave this house without you." Gage said simply, trying to be softer.

Harry grew agitated. "No,..that's not what I want. I don't want to go ANYwhere else.
We decided that with Dr. Thayer. Didn't she tell you?!"

Roy held out a hand. "Easy, sir. Don't get over excited or you'll get more out of
breath to the point where we'll have to start helping you."

But Harry wouldn't listen. He writhed on the bed. "No! I'm not leaving, you.. you
can't make--" The man broke off as a strangled choking jag demanded his
full attention to manage.

DeSoto looked over his shoulder as he raised the bed's head a little higher.
"Chet!" he shouted. "I'm sorry,sir, but until we hear from your doctor or see
the signed draft, we have to do everything in our power to keep you alive."

Harry purpled as he struggled to breathe, furious. But then his consciousness
began to slip and his eyes rolled up into the back of his head. The EKG sped
up into a crisis string of PVC's. 

Roy leaned in closer. "Mr. Billings? Mr. Billings? Just try to relax. Can you hear
me?" Roy asked, tipping back his head.  The man drew in a long tortured,
shuddering breath.

"Roy?" Johnny asked as he began grabbing the drug box and airway management
supplies that Kelly eagerly handed to him.

"He's just tired, I think." DeSoto said, not letting go of Billings. "He's still got a
viable carotid." Roy drew out an ambu bag to help him on his in's. "He's still
awake." he reported.

"Okay, I'll contact Rampart." Johnny said, setting up the biophone. "Kelly, go
get Lopez. Get us,.." he said, tossing his head at Harry. "and him,.. portable."

Chet nodded and hurried to the kitchen where Cap and Stoker stood 
comforting the distraught wife. Barb's head lay across her arm on
the table.

Kelly stopped in his tracks, dismayed. "Cap, is she sick? Does she need Roy 
or Johnny in here?" Chet asked as he entered.

Hank shook his head. "No, we finally got her to calm down some. She's just
resting a little, while we get her some coffee. What's up?"

Chet jerked his head silently for him to follow him back to Harry.

"Ah, Mike, could you look after the missus for a while? I'll be right back. I...
forgot to give L.A. our update status when we got here." he fibbed.

"Okay, Cap." said Stoker, getting the underlying hint right away. He couldn't
hide the worry on his face as he did his job.

Cap left them behind.

Chet and Hank arrived just in time to see Roy deliver one more breath by
bag valve to their bed seated patient, who was just starting to gasp weakily
again.

"Better now?" DeSoto asked, watching the man breathe. "All right, try on your
own here." he encouraged as he took the mask away.

The husband fearfully obeyed, and began to relax as his color and muscles 
improved. Then, he actually smiled fractionally in his distress. "Now I... know
why Barb keeps yelling at me all the time....to stay calm."

"Yep." Gage grinned. "Here, let me get you cleaned up before she comes
running in here all in another dither." Johnny deftly dried all traces of tears
from Harry's eyes and cheeks." We ARE gonna figure all this out. Only you
never gave us the chance to tell you first.." he joked. "Now get your heart
rate down before she notices. Take a deep breath... Now a deeper one." 
he said, placing a hand on Harry's damp chest. "Okay, looks like it's over. 
But I still gotta call us in, all right?" he said holding up the biophone receiver.

Harry nodded gratefully, no longer resisting. His scare had humbled him back 
into sensibility. "Okay,.. all right,..*cough* go ahead and do your paramedic 
thing. But I'm still not going.." he said firmly as Roy refitted him with a new
non rebreather oxygen mask.

Gage held up his hands in teasing self defense in a mock surrender."Let's
run that by the doc in charge and see what he says." he said truthfully.

Johnny opened up their squad's frequency. "Rampart, this is Rescue 51. How
do you read?"

At the hospital, a buzzer sounded in the E.R. Dr. Brackett entered the base
station and thumbed the receiver. ##51, this is Rampart Base, go ahead.##

Johnny replied, reading the information that he could from the DNR carbons
in his hand. "Rampart, we've a conscious male, aged eight five in end stage
blastocystic lymphoma and leukemia. Uh, we were called in secondarily by
a third uninvolved party initially and not by either the patient or his immediate
family. We have their yellow forms only. Patient was tachycardic and is just 
out of respiratory distress which was resolved with some manual assistance.
Doc, we have a pretty good set up here, but with only partial ability to
ascertain current ongoing treatment and therapy. Vital signs are: Central
line B.P. is 90 over 62, pulse 100 and irregular, respirations are twenty six
and shallow on six liters of home O2. His skin is cool and moist. EKG shows
resolving sinus tachycardia with some q wave elevations remaining. Rampart,
he threw some P.V.C.'s during his difficulty, but none are apparent now. Patient
is on I.V. fluids with a locked, preset undeterminable narcotic for pain that is
now ineffective. And by self declaration, he says that he is mordibund and does
not wish to be transported. How do you advise?" he finished quickly, getting
to the point for Harry's benefit.

##51, are you in contact with the patient's attending physician?## Kel asked.

"That's a negative, Rampart. Our patient says that he's unavailable at this time."

Brackett let out a huge sigh. ##There's no other option then, 51. I can't authorize
a med without learning what else he's on without a guarantee of getting him
in here. Either we find his doctor, or you find those original forms. My hands are
tied at this point.## Kel expressed firmly.

Gage let his breath out in a huff. "Rampart, stand by. I've got an idea."

##Standing by.##

"Hey, Roy? Do you think she'll leave him long enough to go to the bank for those
orders?"

DeSoto, shrugged, watching Harry rest under the oxygen mask. "We could always
ask."

The man, gasping in front of them, moaned. "She's not gonna like that idea. She
hasn't left my side since I was diagnosed as terminal. And it's been two years."

Gage gulped, remembering Barb's earlier ire. He glanced up at Roy. "So,..will
you ask her, or shall I?" he blinked at his partner.

DeSoto's mouth slacked as he thought about it.

"Neither." came a third voice at their elbows. "I'm the captain. I'll go ask." 
Hank Stanley said.

Harry tried to chuckle. "Good luck." he hacked, reopening his eyes. 

----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
While Gage was on the phone, Chet had seen the confusion on Hank's face when 
Mike had quickly stepped up when they first arrived. ::That's really odd. What's
going on here? Mike doesn't talk about his background.::

As Chet took his position at the foot of the bed, a picture 
caught his eye. It was a color shot of two men in Navy dress whites. 
Chet gasped.

Hank quickly said, "What is it?"

Chet choked out, "I...know...how...Mike...knows...him."

That caught everybody's attention. Johnny saw the sheer concern and total 
surprise in Chet's eyes and kept it professional, "How?"

Chet carefully picked up the picture, "Look." He passed the picture to Cap and 
Johnny then Roy who were waiting to reply back to Kel on the line. 
Each man gasped when they realized it was Mike in the picture.

Suddenly Harry came awake fully, changed by fatigue, "Petty Officer 
Stoker. Where is he?"

Stoker had heard the summons clearly.

Mike was out of the kitchen and by Harry's side in a flash. Barb was right 
behind him with Marco bringing up the rear. Barb took Harry's right hand, Mike 
took his left. 

Mike spoke calmly, "It's okay, Commander. I'm here."

"What about these Air Force punks?"

Mike had to stifle a laugh, "Sir, we're civillians. We all belong to the Los Angeles 
County Fire Department. These are my shift mates."

Harry was embarrassed at his growing confusion, "Quick intro?"

"My honor to. My Captain Hank Stanley, firefighter Chet Kelly, firefighter 
Marco Lopez, paramedic firefighters Roy Desoto and John Gage." As Mike 
introduced them, each man stood where they were, so Harry could see them.

Roy spoke up, "Sir, we will find a way to honor your wishes."

Harry choked out, "Thank you...    Hank."

"Yes, Commander?"

"Take care of my Petty Officer. I'm leaving him in your capable hands." said
Billings.

Hank nodded, smiling, before he spoke, "Thank you, sir."

Harry's voice weakened, "Barb, my love."

Betty's eyes filled with tears, "Right here, on your right as I have been for 
the last sixty-five years." 

"I love you."

"I love you, too, Harry. You'll always be in my heart." she smiled, eyes
glistening.

Harry seemed to fight another inevitable snooze. Marco grabbed for a shaking Barb
when she saw a final change begin as he started to give up.

Mike's voice cracked, "Stand down for a while, Commander. You've fought a
good fight today. Your watch is over. God speed and rest well, sir."
Tears stung Stoker's eyes.   

"Think I will, Mike. Barb, will you stay with me? I don't want you out of my sight.
You're so beautiful, my sweet lady. Come here.." he gasped. 

She went to him willingly and gently took his face into her age trembling hands.

The smile never left his eyes as they closed in sleep.

Betty turned to face the others, "Thank you all of you for staying here until Harry
settled a little."

Cap spoke for everybody. "You're welcome, ma'am, it was our honor."

----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
A few minutes later, Gage was back on the phone. "Doc, there's got to be a 
third option somewhere.. This is crazy. She won't leave him to go get his D.N.R.
originals and Dr. Thayer still isn't answering his phone service from where he's 
located."

Kel startled. ##Wait a minute, Johnny. Did you say Dr. Thayer?##

"I did."

##A Dr. Norman Thayer?"

"Rampart, the wife says yes."  Gage added when Barb showed up just then, 
holding a mug of coffee, nervously crumpling a tissue in her hands.

Dr. Brackett hit the countertop in celebration. ##Hang on, I think I've got an answer
for you, coming right up.## he grinned, glad to get out from under the weight of 
a huge DNR snarl.

"Standing by."

Kel got busy on a house phone. He dialed a few numbers on the rotary. "Hello,
operator? I need Dr. Thayer contacted and I need him now. Yes, I'll hold."
A pause. "What? What do you mean his answering service can't get through? 
That's insane!....Look, I'm sorry I yelled at you. I know you're busy. But this is
important and it concerns a terminally ill patient of his who's in a lot of pain right
now unnecessarily. So try again! Please?..."  Brackett turned around and leaned
on the counter impatiently. "What do you mean no luck! Even I know where he is!
It's what time?" he asked, whipping up his watch long enough to peer at it. "10:26?
He's at the Hazeltine Golf Course, putting the green on the ninth hole as we speak.
I'll give you the number direct. Tell them to ship out a caddy and get his rear 
dragged back inside over a bar phone to talk to me. How do I know? He's been
my golf partner vacationing up there for nine years whenever we go together,
that's how. Now go get the man, pronto!" he barked.

-----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

A few minutes later, Dr. Brackett was back in touch with Johnny.
##Squad 51, this is Rampart. You've got your third option here. I got
permission to take over your patient's case. Dixie and I will be coming
out there to make a personal house call via squad car. You can tell Mr. Billings
that we'll be there for the duration of time that he requires our services, for as
long as he needs us."

Both Johnny and Roy sighed in gratitude, deeply moved for the Billings. They
knew then that Dr. Brackett was offering to attend a one on one, until the 
morning hours when Harry would surely leave his life.

::Best of all.:: thought Roy. ::He'll be free of all the pain that he would have
suffered emotionally, being at the hospital.::

-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Hours later, it was night, at the station. The gang finally asked Stoker the 
burning question. 

Everybody gathered around Mike.

Marco asked, "Mi amigo?"

Mike took a deep breath as he finished a silent prayer. "I'm okay. Harry would 
shoot me if he realized we wouldn't have stopped working because of those
missing pages today." Mike looked at Johnny and Roy. "I know we always do 
our best, but something about DNR orders...stinks when things don't go right,
you know what I mean?"  Mike held up his hands around his mug as he 
warmed them with its heat before the T.V. set.  

Roy's face turned solemn. "Yeah."

"Guys, I was respecting his privacy by not talking about him or his illness at 
work. Now if you'll excuse me, I'm going back to the house now that I'm off duty 
on emergency, to go be with him and Kel, and Dixie. It's what he wants, for 
friends to be there with him in the end."

Respectfully, the gang watched him go.

With that, the rest of the crew broke up and headed for the trucks to dry the dew 
off all their painted fenders and chrome. They all knew they'd never forget 
what they had witnessed that day and in that moment in Mike's quiet eyes.  His 
devotion to friends and duty had absolutely...no parallel in ANY of themselves,.. 
the more they thought about it.

-------------------------------------------------------

Photo:  Gage with a wife on the biophone in
             a bedroom. 

Photo: An I.V. line in an arm.
 
Photo: Marco talking, with a point, to Stoker.
 
Photo: Roy listening with a stethoscope in
            a bedroom. Close shot.
 
Photo: Dixie overseeing a terminally ill, intubated patient. 
 
Photo: Chet and Stoker laughing at Johnny in the station
            kitchen.  

****************************************************************
From: brenda murray (sniffles_76102@yahoo.com) 
Subject: Night Foray
Sent: Fri 11/23/07 5:42 PM 
 
It was week after the Commander had passed away. Mike
was back at work. The Christmas holidays were
approaching. Mike decided if nothing else he would
put on a happy face for the rememberence of the
Commander. ::That's how he would have liked it. :: thought
Stoker.

Since daylight savings time, the night approached a
lot faster, making it feel as if it was later then it
was. The evening was quiet, the doors were locked up.

The firemen were getting ready for a meal. Marco was
cooking his enchiladas with this sliced avacados on
the side. ::The quiet evening for us is just going
to be a memory after this night ends most likely.::
thought Marco as he finished up.

Marco went to open the back door to get a little air into the 
station, not knowing there was a gang in the alleyway having
another fight over something or another.  And as the door was 
being propped open with a chair, there was a ping, off the
door. Marco felt a sharp pain in his hand, and the
quiet evening ended.

 ----------------------------------------------

Photos:  None.

**************************************************
From: patti keiper <pattik1@hotmail.com>
Subject: Faster than a speeding...
Date: Wed Nov 28, 2007 8:20 am 


Recoiling in complete shock, Marco fell back into the
vehicle bay, cradling his left hand in his right. Looking
down, he wasn't surprised to find profusely oozing
blood welling up in between his fingers. ::What the
h*ll? I've been shot?!:: he thought crazily.

Thinking fast, he flipped over onto his belly long 
enough to inch back over to the open door so he
could kick the door wedge free with a hasty foot.

The heavy rear facing door, slammed shut again
loudly, echoing like cannon shot around the bay.

His hand began to throb in increasing agony as he 
crawled away from the thin aluminum garage door
to the interior wall on the same side as the county
map next to the mop cupboard. He groaned, his heart
thudding in his torn hand as he finally gathered enough
presence of mind to shout for the others now that he
was in relative safety.

"Cap! Guys! Call the police! I think I've been hit by
some gunfire coming from the yard!"

Outside, the commotion and loud arguing in Spanish,
issuing from the car dealership over the cement wall,
broke away with the sound of angry chasing feet, that
Lopez recognized as being from at least four or more
street kids. They hadn't even noticed the outcome of
their silencer's bullet ricochet near the station. All some
of them knew was that their target had been missed and 
was getting away.

"Marco?!" came Cap's concerned shout. "Stay down! 
Where are they?"

Lopez groaned, gasping with infuriated fright as he heard
the others making sure things were safe around him.

Someone killed the interior lights and began to crawl towards 
him with a flashlight in the sudden darkness. It was Chet. 
"How bad are ya?"

"It's just the side of my hand. I'm not feeling a hole." Lopez 
panted. "Guys, I think they're gone. All of them ran after 
somebody else. I don't think they even knew I was there."

Hank pulled himself up to the radio alcove and snagged down
the mic and caught it after a yank on its cord. "Can you say
that with absolute certainty they had no idea who they were
firing at?" Stanley snapped in worry from his guarded 
place on the floor.

"Well, no."

"Well then shut up and don't move until Roy and Johnny get 
over there to check you out. L.A., Station 51. Shots fired. 
Fireman down. We need immediate police backup." he 
transmitted.

Kelly grabbed Marco's wrist in both of his hands. "Come on. Let
go." he said. "I can stem this better than you."

"It's not that bad." Marco grunted painfully.

"Like h*ll it isn't!" Chet fretted instantly. "You're bleeding like a 
stuck pig here. Have you seen the front of your shirt yet?"

"It's nothing. That was from me sliding across the floor to get away 
from the back."

Chet chided him skeptically as he pressed down on a pulse point
to stop the hemorrhaging. "Uh huh." he scoffed. "So there's no
reason at all that you're white as a sheet right now, huh?"

Marco sighed, shivering. "All right. I got scared for a moment. I'm
still fine." Lopez said, still sitting up gamely.

Gage startled them both with a tart reply from a dark corner. "I don't
see you moving those fingers any. Let me be the judge of that."
he said, appearing out of the darkness with a trauma box. "Chet, open
his shirt."

"Where's Roy?" Marco asked, feeling his eyes glaze as his heart
began to settle down. Lopez coughed, his arms and legs twitching.

"He's getting his hunting rifle out of his locker to use as a deterent if
we need one." Johnny said, taking Marco's pulse at the neck. "Are
you short of breath any?" he asked, scissor splitting Lopez's T-shirt
away to look for other sources of bleeding.

"Not any more. Why?"

"You've got another nick here on your ribcage.  I want to make sure 
whatever hit you didn't penetrate any further than skin deep. Does 
this hurt?" he asked, pressing on the new blood-damp area.

"Stings a little."

"Is that all?" Gage questioned, studying his face dubiously.

"Yeah. Like a cat scratch."

Gage smirked. "You're lucky."

Marco clunked his head back against the cold wall. "I knew that
a second after, when just my hand began to burn."

Kelly showed Johnny the ragged tear on the outside fleshy part of
Marco's palm.

"Oww." Marco complained, trying to peer at it, too.

Johnny did a quick mobility check. "Well, those nerves are in full
working order. And these pinky bones are intact and in alignment."
He looked up. "No fractures, Cap. Or tendon damage. He wasn't 
nailed in the right spot." he said, applying a thick dressing for Marco
to cradle his hand into so Chet could let go of his hold.

Stoker showed up with a lantern light just as police sirens grew
urgently in the distance and the red of their lights began to fill up
the pitch blackness of the garage. 

Marco chuckled. "Well that's a little too late. Those hoodlums are
long gone by now."

Hank begged to differ. "Well they still have to look at and document
your injury and find the bullet that hit you."

L.A.'s voice came over their intercom, patched HQ to direct station 
link. ##L.A., Station 51. P.D. advises: Stay under cover until your
immediate vicinity is confirmed as quiet.##

"It WAS quiet earlier. And peaceful. I want that back!" Lopez whined
nervously.

A clacking of a round being clicked into a firing chamber made them 
all jump. It was Roy in one of the squad's bullet proof vests and his
duty helmet. The number "51" reflected eerily in the battery light.
"You got it." DeSoto said. "I'm just making sure things stay that way."

Marco sighed mightily at the same time Johnny let out the air in the
blood pressure cuff he was using on Lopez's good arm. "Spoken like
a true Viet Nam vet." Lopez giggled.

"D*mned straight. You're forgetting that Joanne, the kids and I, live in this
same neighborhood." Roy told him.

Hank chuckled. "Cops are here, Roy. How about putting that thing away
before they get a little trigger happy out there, looking in?"

##L.A., Station 51. What's your Code I's status?##

Cap thumbed the mic he still held in his lap. "Station 51, L.A. He's minor.
Go ahead and cancel our ambulance. He'll go in by squad if it's warranted
after we make a quick phone call to the hospital. Our update with P.D. will
follow by landline." Stanley replied.

##10-4, 51. Cancelling response.##

Gage let out a satisfied grunt. "Well, the bleeding's stopped and your
vitals are doing fine."

"Just like I told ya!" Marco sputtered, his adrenalin finally hitting.

Johnny grinned. "Easy, don't shoot the messenger. I'm bearing good 
news. But I still have to make our phone call in." he said, jerking his thumb
squadwards towards the still stashed biophone.

Three smacks against the rear garage door by the yard startled everyone
badly. Except for Roy, who was calmly checking out the head hatted 
silhouettes of cops showing through the cracks in the garage door. "Ah,"
DeSoto said. "That's our all clear. I'll go let them in." he said, flicking on
the garage lights again. "So, is he gonna make it there, Johnny?"

"Without a doubt. He's just winged a little." Gage smiled.

"Just like I've been trying to say all along!" Marco complained, getting to
his feet with Mike and Chet's help. He moved to the bench and sat down
next to Cap's office next to the file cabinet that held the station's photo
camera. He eyed it up as Cap drew it out. "In every gory detail, huh?"
he asked, about the report and statement taking to come.

Hank patted him on his unbloody shoulder. "Won't take long." He glanced
over at Johnny, who was setting up the biophone. "Is it deep?"

"Nah, just a nasty furrow. Once it dries up, a little Second Skin'll cover it
good enough for working, as long as he keeps wearing a glove."

Hank relaxed. "Just what I wanted to hear. No fill-in necessary." Stanley 
sighed.

"Hey!" yelled Marco. "Did anybody ask ME about that? I've been shot!"

"Creased." Roy and Johnny both corrected him at the same time.

DeSoto smiled. "It's only a flesh wound. Like you said, it's nothing." 
he rubbed in.

Marco scowled, growling.

Cap rolled his eyes. "I think I'm getting an even bigger headache now
to go with the one I've had all day." he muttered. "Do you guys know
how much paperwork I have to fill out because that little nick is actually
a gunshot wound?"

Stoker rocked back on his heels. "Aren't you glad you're the captain?"

"Go make yourself useful and mop up that blood. Then finish cooking
lunch for Marco until he gets his hand dressed out after all the necessary
photo taking." Cap glared, actually half sting.

"Yes sir." Stoker mock saluted. He diluted his mirth with a wink that stayed
all of Hank's temper about report filing, neatly.

Behind them, Gage began his hail. "Rampart, this is Squad 51, how do 
you read?"

Dixie McCall answered the line. ##51, I read you loud and clear. Go ahead.##

"Rampart, I have a minor GSW-Code-I in a still alarm for documentation."
and he proceeded to give her all the nitty gritty details. When he was through,
Dixie asked. ##Apply dressings and elevate. I note patient wishes no
transportation. Are you bringing him in for a pain prescription?##

Johnny held up the phone receiver in a shrug to Marco, who was wrapped up
in deep conversation with Vince, who was the assigned information 
gatherer for the incident.

Lopez shook his head vehemently and pointed lockerroomwards and made
pill bottle opening gestures with his hands. "I got Tylenol." he mouthed.

Gage nodded. "Negative, Rampart."

##Ok, 51. Thanks for the information the county needs. And stay safe out
there for Pete's sake!## Dixie said in a parting shot. 

Marco couldn't resist. "We are! In here..." he said out loud.

Dixie hung up the line, laughing.

------------------------------------------------------

Photo:   Marco, looking pained by the drug box in
              the vehicle bay.

Photo:  Roy, looking worried in the dark in the bay by
             the squad.

Photo:  Cap, looking disgusted by the rear garage doors.

Photo:  Marco, looking at his arm with Stoker near the Ward.

Photo:  Johnny on the biophone in a still alarm in Station 51.

Photo: Dixie McCall on the red land line phone at Rampart.

Photo:  Roy getting out the trauma box from the squad 
             in the bay.

Photo:  Marco seated on the engine near Stoker in the bay.

Photo:  Roy and Johnny relieved, in the communications alcove.

************************************************** 
From: patti keiper <pattik1@hotmail.com> 
Date: Sun Dec 2, 2007 6:57 pm 
Subject: When Seconds Count.. 

An hour later, Marco's wound was shellacked down to
a crusty, pain free seam and the jokes were once again
flying thick around the rec room before the t.v. set still
turned to the brush fire coverage.

Cap hung up the phone, at the end of what was another
of numerous ones he had received from the chief regarding
the shooting. He smirked from the corner of his mouth, making
Marco mutter. 

"Uh, oh.." trickled Lopez.

Stanley went to sit deliberately on the very edge of 
his black recliner to face him. Then his mouth opened.
"Congratulations, pal. You're officially the first firefighter ever
to have gotten himself shot in a big house."

The rest of the gang burst out laughing. 

Marco squirmed uncomfortably. "I don't know whether to 
feel honored, or horrified."

Stoker's good humor barely slackened. "Definitely the latter.
That could have been very bad."

"I can think of worse things than just wounded firemen." said
Cap, sobering. "All the dead ones."

The gang quieted, deflected into dark seriousness in moments.

Johnny Gage broke the silence softly. "Say, Cap. Any word on 
the number of casualties from working those San Bernadino
County fires?" he said, gesturing at the news with his Grape
Crush bottle.

"A lot." Cap said morosely, without blinking.

"Too many." echoed Stoker, unbidden.

"Don't we know it." agreed Hank, finally blinking, with emotion
restored to his face. "But the governor doesn't want to throw
our county into the battle just yet because many of us are
THEIR replacement standbys in their regular service areas,
McConnikee says. In fact, if Marco had found himself laid up,
there wouldn't have been somebody here at home available
to replace him."

"How so, Cap?" asked Roy.

Stoker replied, already knowing the answer. "Because our 
secondary personnel have already been sent to combat the fires."

Chet made a face. "Well, that's dumb. What if a paramedic 
somewhere in L.A. gets sick on the job or something and can't work?
Does that squad go out of service?" Kelly wondered.

Cap said. "The chief's just authorized that anyone with the appropriate
side training can take over the missing spot with assisting the main 
paramedic."

Gage immediately fell into an uproar. "Oh, Cap. A firefighter can't
start an I.V. or.. or - or utilize injectable meds.."

Stanley held up a finger. "No, but he can keep up the basics, like
resuscitation, right?"

Johnny piped down.

"Yeah, that happens anyways. " agreed Chet. "And we can handle 
the biophone just fine in a pinch." 

Gage shuddered. "Having someone like you? As my.." he gulped. 
"..partner?" he squeaked. "Now that's scary." he breathed frankly.

Marco took offense. "Hey, what are we? Chopped liver?"

Johnny held up a hand. "No. Look,..Agh! I didn't mean it the way it
sounded. I was only thinking about other situations like.. What if
an engineer got laid up or a battalion chief got sudden emergency
medical leave? That could knock a whole station out of commission..
There'd be no one to drive the d*mn*d truck or run the proper
personnel assignments at mass casuality incidents if something big
should happen then."

Hank met his eyes miserably. "Now you know why every tenth brush fire
season or so, really sucks. This is one of them." he said, eyeing up 
the news that was urgently murmuring, very close to them.

The tones went off.

##Station 51. Oil Spill at Shasta Pass. At mile marker one fourteen 
involving a tanker on a viaduct. No smoke showing. At Shasta Pass,
marker 114 on the viaduct. Hazmat has been dispatched. Time out:
Fifteen nineteen.##

Chet shook his head. "Guys, did we just curse ourselves?" he asked
as they all fled for the bay at a run.

Cap was particularly tight lipped, giving no reply.

Stoker dutifully took the Ward after the squad, code three, and
together, the rescue trucks headed up into the mountains not yet
blanketed by fire smoke coming from their inferno plagued 
neighboring ranges.

Kelly just shrugged. "So we get to play with some sand and a lot
of ground water. Should be no big deal to handle at all. Look, we'll
probably be home again by dinner time."

Although self professed as being non-superstitious, Cap muttered an
explicative anyway to protest his burning, report-overexposed eyes. 
"Kelly, cork it!"

"Geez. Can't a raging optimist get anywhere around here?"

Stoker chuckled as he shifted the engine into a faster gear.
"Only when the last spark's out for good."

Chet licked his lips. "Okay, I'm a pumper tanker full of water. Where's
the fire?" he joked.

Next to them, Cap whispered, rubbing sore temples. "It's still coming.."
he mumbled. "Can't you feel it?... I sure can.." It was spoken figuratively.

Station 51 passed a logger's truck, pulled out of their way onto 
a runaway chute to let them by, heeding their lights.

Mike saw Roy slow up ahead in the squad as their vehicles' path
encountered a second downshifting logging truck.

"Man.." Chet breathed grandly. "Must be wonderful running business
as usual while the surrounding counties burn up all around you." Chet
scoffed at the driver. "Ain't this red engine big enough for you to see
in your rear view mirrors!"

Marco laughed, fingering his repaired hand. "Out of sight, out of mind.
Ah, there, he sees us. Can't smell or see the smoke way up here.
Only smog."

The logging truck bounced over a splintered rock lying in the road and
one of its steel securing chains, snapped. Ninety foot debarked pine logs
began sliding off the moving loader in a shuddering cascade of dead
wood.

"Look out!" Kelly startled.

"Brace yourselves!" Stoker yelled. And slammed on the brakes as the 
squad maneuvered clear of the shavings spewing avalanche.

The terrifying end of a log falling, arched toward Engine 51's windshield
like a battering ram.

Mike threw on the emergency brake and the whole fire engine decelerated
almost to a standstill in one sickening jerk, bouncing on lurching, fully locked
up tire sets. 

Everyone was thrown forward into their seatbelts, until their harnesses caught
them with a jolt, firmly.

The log...missed. Only narrowly avoiding an impact on their glass by the
smallest of feet.

"Ugh!" Cap grunted as his forehead went down fast onto his gloved hands,
holding onto the dashboard.

"Is everybody all right?" Stoker shouted when the Ward squealed to a halt
before the settling pile of fallen timbers.

"C-Call it in. " Hank said. "Hopefully, there aren't any injuries.." he told them,
thinking ahead to the driver of the timber truck and behind for the speeding
traffic that would inevitably meet up with them. "Mike, turn the sirens back on.
Let's prevent a rear collision." Stanley ordered, still resting against the door jam.

Stoker nodded and recommitted the wailer. "I should have turned us sideways
to act like a crash barrier." he said, smacking the steering wheel.

"No room to maneuver now." Cap winced.

Marco said. "Let's just get out.. Before it happens."

Mike watched as the others fled. He picked up the radio mic.
"Engine 51. L.A..." he said quickly, watching for any new traffic
danger.

##Engine 51.##

"Log fall. Our highway at.. mile marker one ten. We are unavailable to
continue our response. We've a total road obstruction.." Mike shouted
loudly. "Suggest a reassign."

##10-4. Re-routing resources. Sending CHiP for traffic. Do you have
motorist casualities?##

"Not yet." Mike relayed nervously, glancing back in all of his mirrors 
at the highway lanes at the back. ::If anyone heeds cherry flares, now's
the time.:: he thought as he watched Chet and Marco run along the
grassy margins on either side to light and lay a bunch. ::G*d,..Why don't
they give us warning signs to carry with us? It'd be an easy fix!:: Mike
thought quickly. 

He bailed the cab the same time Hank did and the two of them made
for the roadside nearest the logger's truck. The driver's door was ajar
and open. The trucker was already safe, standing on the offside of
the guardrail away from his now empty loader.

"You okay?" Stoker shouted at him.

"Yeah! I'm fine! Now, at any rate.." he half laughed, not feeling happy
at all. "D*mn*d highway department! I told them yesterday, that cliff
face was still dumping debris onto the highway in this spot. But did
they come and blast the instability away and clean it up? No!"

"Well they will now.." Hank sighed, looking at him from under his
helmet. "They're on the way." He said, hefting up his radio.

Stoker and Cap's HTs sounded. ##Squad 51 to Engine 51. We're going
on ahead to survey our original call for Battalion.## said Roy.

Cap sat down tiredly onto the guard rail and replied back. "10-4, uh..Advise
the next responding engine what you find." Hank said, still shaken by
the near brush they had experienced, as he radioed out. He shrugged at
Stoker. "What else can go wrong today?"

Mike laughed. "Well, at least, we're all safe. I haven't seen any cars coming
in, have you?"

Cap shook his head, rubbing it with fatigue. "No.."

Clearly, Squad 51 came over active. ##L.A., we're on scene. So far no
injuries or fire. We've several boxcars slightly derailed on the overpass.
Looks like crude raining down onto the roadway beneath. We're getting
the area free of motorists. L.A.P.D. is here, assisting. ## said Gage.

Mike glanced back at Stanley. "I think Marco and Chet were able to flag down
everybody okay, Cap." he said after another few tense seconds went by.

"Good." Stanley cracked in relief. Suddenly, Hank wove in place dizzily, leaning
oddly sideways, falling.

Mike yelled, catching him in shock as he passed out utterly. "Cap? What's--"
He bore his weight to the ground carefully. Only then did Stoker see his stiffened
arms and legs moments later as Hank's eyes fell half closed as all expression left 
his face. "Cap? Can you hear me?" Stanley's feet curled and his hands clenched 
and twisted up against his body.

Then Cap stopped moving, his slitted eyes fixed ahead. They were dilating.

The trucker rushed over. "Oh, my G*d. What happened to him?"

"I don't know." Mike said, moving to Hank's head. He could feel a pulse. It was
very slow and irregular. He thumbed his HT. "Chet! Marco! One of you
get back here now. Cap's down and unconscious. And I don't know why!" 

##On my way! Marco's watching our scene safety! I'll get the O2.## Kelly 
replied, urgently.

Hank was now limp as a rag doll, and completely still. 

Opening an airway, Mike bent low over Cap's nose and mouth, listening.
He heard nothing. Stunned, Stoker began giving him full breaths, mouth to
mouth, trying to regain at least some reflexive gasping out of him. 

Cap didn't even try.

Chet ran by, without stopping, for the engine and the resuscitator apparatus.
"Is it cardiac?!" Kelly shouted, scared to death, as he fumbled open the 
side catch on the Ward for their airways bag, too. 

"I don't think so. He postured for a bit. I think his head was hurting him."
Mike said, grabbing for the demand valve as soon as Chet got it to him.
He started hyperventilating Hank, using its positive pressure trigger,
to eliminate any last trace of oxygen deficit. "Get us another squad." 
he said quickly.

Kelly finished turning on the suction unit to standby and he grabbed up
Mike's HT from the ground. "L.A. we've a fireman down. Non-breathing
with a pulse. Send paramedics to our location. Squad 51 is unavailable."
::D*mn first in protocol. Roy and Johnny can't leave where they are until 
the chief gets there after them with the second station's response crew.::

--------------------------------------------------------------------------
Roy and Johnny startled from their position upwind of the derailment
at Chet's transmission. ##L.A., we've a fireman down. Non-breathing
with a pulse. Send paramedics to our location. Squad 51 is unavailable.##  

Johnny's mouth flopped open. "What? Involving OUR engine crew?"

##10-4, Engine 51. ## came L.A. ##*Beep. Beep. Beep* Squad 26. 
Nonbreathing Code I. At Shasta Pass, mile marker one ten. Engine 
crew is present. At Shasta Pass, mile marker one ten. Time out: Fifteen
forty five.##

##Squad 26, L.A. Our E.T.A. is ten minutes...##

Gage shouted. "D*mm*t! That's too long!" he said glaring at the radio
in his gloves.

DeSoto turned to face back down the highway from where they had come.
He stepped up onto the squad's side runner to see a little better and
so did Gage. They could still see the logging truck spill a few hairpin 
turns away in the far distance, four miles away. Scared senseless, Roy
nodded. "Sounds like it could be a medical situation. Chet didn't say
anyone was struck by a car."

"But on who?" Gage said, his attention torn between managing their
incident safety and paying attention to his handytalkie. Then he thought back,
remembering subtle changes in his mind's eye of posture, and complaining.
"Oh sh*t. It's Cap... I thought he wasn't feeling okay. Remember?"
he said, whirling at DeSoto, testing his guess.

"Yeah. And I think he even said as much, too. And we're still completely 
stuck here.." Roy shouted in frustration, banging on the roof of the squad.
"...tied by standing orders.."

There was as yet no sign of their approaching Battalion's car. There was 
only the sound of dripping oil falling from the box car tanker and police 
orders coming over a bullhorn as they began evacuating sidewalk bystanders.

---------------------------------------------------------------------

Photo:   A log falling off a logging truck right at your windshield.

Photo:   Stoker driving the Engine.

Photo:   Chet, Marco Stoker crouched over someone with a resuscitator.

Photo:   Cap down, hurting, on his back.

Photo:   A man being breath ventilated on an ambu bag.

Photo:   Gage in a helmet disturbed about a transmission.

Photo:   Roy responding to L.A. in turnout, near open squad.

**************************************************
From: "Erin J." <etlhostej@voyagerliveaction.com>  and "Patti" 
<theaterhost@voyagerliveaction.com> in a tandem story posting.
Subject: Skunked
Date: Thu, 6 Dec 2007 17:21:42 -0600
 
Johnny and Roy immediately cursed themselves and the 
county as they realized they couldn't leave the scene. 

A quick look between them and they knew they 
had to do two things at once. They had to be the relay for Mike 
and they had to stay put. They were NOT happy with the 
second idea. 

"There's no department rule that says we have to be at a patient's
side to transmit, is there?" Johnny said, rubbing his chin nervously.

"Not that I recall.." hurried DeSoto, instantly agreeing, as he rushed 
back to his side.

Roy jumped on the portable radio as Johnny grabbed the biophone
out from inside the squad. 

Johnny had the receiver opened in record time. "Rampart, 
this is Squad 51. How do you read?"

Seconds later,  Morton's voice rang out. ##Go ahead 51, this 
is Rampart. We read you loud and clear.##

"Rampart, we have a Code I just up the road from our current 
location. We will be doing an HT relay with them." Johnny said.

##10-4, 51. Do you know the identity of the Code I or the 
circumstances?##

"Negative on the circumstances, Rampart. We think the Code I 
may be our captain." he said to peg age and record finding indicator.

Morton took a quick breath of frustration. ##10-4, 51. We'll keep 
the line open. Let us know when you have more information.##

"10-4, Rampart."

Behind him, Roy couldn't thumb the talk button to the engine fast
enough. "HT 51 to Engine 51..."

There was no reply.

DeSoto fretted, running through worst case scenarios. ::Did Hank
arrest a little deeper?::

Finally, Chet came on the line. ##Engine 51 to HT 51. We hear you
DeSoto.##

"What have you got on him?" Roy asked quickly.

##We don't know. There's not a mark on him. I-- he's---##

"Easy. Calm down, Kelly. Just report what you're seeing. One
detail at a time. Is he ventilating okay?"

##Uh, yeah.##

"Has he vomitted?"

##No. He's not reacting to pain or us fussing with him at all.##

"Okay.. Listen up. Now I know you know what we do. Go over him 
head to toe. Tell me what you find. Each thing could be an important 
clue. Don't miss it. Keep relaxed, and focused. And keep talking.
You're my eyes and hands." Roy told him.

Chet hid some more stress.
##Uh, earlier, his feet and hands were curling. But not any more.##

Roy cringed. ::Was that decorticate or decerebrate?:: he thought,
estimating Hank's coma scale score mentally. ::Either one is bad.::
"His head, and face, what do they look like?" Roy coached.

##Nothing's bleeding, no wounds. But, wait a minute. Mike, aren't
his eyes bulging out?##

Roy heard a muffled reply that sounded like affirmation. ::Oh no.::
DeSoto thought with fear. ::Increasing intracranial pressure.::
"What's his BP palpated? Is it high, or low?" ::Is this basilar or
or something internal?:: he worried. "Where are his pulses?"

##Uh,... we can find one at both wrists.##

"Strong or weak?"

##Bounding. Rate's around forty. And his veins are distending 
in his hands even when we raise them higher than his heart.##

Roy covered the speaker. "Johnny, he's hypertensive. Badly."

Johnny grabbed the handytalkie Roy handed him while he
gave into some frustrated pacing, back and forth, before the viaduct.

Gage keyed in. "Get his head up! Immobilize him on a short board
and elevate his head as fast as you can. Watch out for airway obstructions.
And whatever you do, don't use an oral airway." ::That'll make his ICP
soar even higher.::

They could almost hear Kelly's fright over the line. ##10-4.##

Johnny made an effort to quiet his voice. "He may get restless later.
Combative. Making it harder to ventilate him. Don't fight him and don't
force in those breaths. Just do enough for a slight rise to keep him
in good color. Keep his head and neck in line using a jaw thrust.
Get EVERYbody on it, if that's what it takes. That's crucial."

Roy was on the biophone to Morton, having just clarified the mechanism
of Stanley's collapse."Doc, it's definite on Cushing's syndrome. And 
before his loss of consciousness, he exhibited faint extensor posturing."
he said over the relay. ::I feel blind. This is useless!:: he fretted.

Morton's reply was cautious, probing.
##I agree. This is a head injury that I also strongly suspect to have an 
elevated ICP. Here's a trick. Aggressive hyperventilation with mechanical 
ventilation results in narrowing of cerebral vessels and may delay his 
brain's swelling. Tell them to start up on it, and not go overboard.##

Gage heard that clearly. "Chet, hyperventilate at 20 breaths/min but no 
more, or cerebral ischemia'll set in, hurting him worse." he radioed.

Kelly looked up at Stoker. "Do twenty, exactly. And super light."

Footfalls behind them announced someone coming.
It was Marco, running.

Mike nodded, shifting his grip around, switching to an ambu bag, 
while Marco Lopez checked and rechecked the straps and head block 
cocooning Hank's puffy face.

Lopez tried to grin. "Yep, I'm here now. I lied and told the cops we had 
a CPR going." 

"Let's hope not." Stoker retorted, worried, concentrating hard.

"Oh G--, when did he stop breathing?" Marco asked, scared.

"Right away, man." Chet told him, miserable.

Underneath their hands, Hank seemed to drift farther away, his
skin mottling. He seemed smaller to them, lying down, propped
up as he was, and frighteningly, very vulnerable. 

For the first time, Engine 51's crew feared that he would die.

Morton's orders continued.
##Establish large bore IV with Normal Saline at keep open rate.##

##Rampart, we will as soon as we have contact.## came Gage's 
disembodied voice.

##Make it fast. Immobilize patient's C-spine with rigid cervical collar, 
shortboard, and immobilize the patient's head until it's secured to the 
backboard. Then raise it up higher than his feet.##

"Already done." Johnny told him from his location four miles out
from his patient.

##Begin transport immediately and repeat vital signs at least every 
five minutes in transport.## Morton added. ##Even partial ones.
I want to know how he's progressing every minute.##

"You'll get 'em." he promised.

----------------------------------------------------------------------

After what seemed like years, but in reality was only a few minutes, 
Roy finally spotted the Chief's car pulling in. Relief filled his 
voice as he once again keyed the HT. "Engine 51, Squad 51."

A shaky Chet replied, ##Go ahead, Squad 51.##

"Hang in there guys, we have a visual on the Chief. As soon as 
he gives us the clearance, we'll be right there."

Roy could hear the sigh of relief through the HT. Chet came 
back after a second, "Thank G*d. You two will definitely be 
welcomed."

Roy swallowed hard. "We know. Squad 51 out."

As Roy was talking to Chet, Johnny restarted the squad. He wanted 
to make sure that as soon as the Chief released them, that there was 
nothing standing in their way. ::Hank's our captain, friend and 
a fellow firefighter. If we could have, we would have been back 
at the site as soon as his initial call went out.:: he thought.  
With the squad idling, Johnny jumped out. 

Together, Johnny and Roy sprinted for the Chief's car. Battalion
Chief Conrad had no choice but to meet them as soon as he 
stepped out of the car. "DeSoto, Gage, what's the size-up?"

Johnny bit back from mentioning the code I at first. Roy answered, 
"Sir, we have a tanker not yet fully involved on the highway above. 
No movement from the tanker, so victims unknown. That's heavy
crude on the ground and still falling."

Conrad looked up, "Holy s*** , that's gonna be one hot train."

Johnny couldn't hold back any longer. "Chief, can we stand
down from this incident?"

Conrad was confused, "Why?"

"We have a Code I just about four miles from here. Our 
engine ran into some issues with a loose log from a logging 
truck." 

"Who's down?"

"Captain Stanley. Condition unknown, mostly likely a serious 
head injury from what we were able to gather over the HT 
from the engine crew."

Conrad knew he was standing in front of two of the county's 
best paramedics and also two firefighters who would be 
distracted if he kept them. "Go. One question."

Roy quickly asked, "Yes, sir?"

"Do you need any air transportation?"

"Yes, sir. Sir, I've been thinking. See if Sierra Rescue can come 
in. That will give you man power here, and for us, a chopper. 
You can have them land-in, still very close, at mile marker one ten.  
Don't worry about the two rangers who get bumped off, they can 
grab a ride with the engine crew when they are freed up to respond 
back here with you." Johnny replied quickly.

"You're r-.." Before Conrad could finish Roy and Johnny had 
sprinted back to the squad. Conrad shook his head sadly 
as he watched them leave. ::I can't blame them. I hate
to see any Code I. Especially someone I know, named Hank 
Stanley.::

Conrad cued his HT. "L.A., this is Battalion 14."

Sam Lanier's voice came back, ##Go ahead, Battalion 14.##

"L.A., respond Sierra Rescue Code 3 to Engine 51's incident."

##10-4, Batallion 14.  They've been in the air five minutes, 
approximate ETA, three minutes.##

"10-4, L.A. Respond three more engines and two trucks to my 
current location. We have an oil tanker in high risk of
becoming fully involved." 

##Battalion 14.##

Gage's voice rang out over the incident channel. "L.A. This
is Squad 51. Reroute your second paramedic response for
Engine 51's Code I to the tanker incident. We've just been 
cleared to assist in their place."

"L.A., I verify the squad change. 14 out."

##L.A. clear, KMG 941. Squad 26, report to mile
marker one fourteen, as a fire standby.##

##Squad 26.##

Conrad stuffed his HT back in his turnout pocket as the 
fireball he imagined as a possibility from the oil tanker grew
bigger in his mind's eye as he began calculating gallons
spilled out.

------------------------------------------------------------------------

Roy and Johnny left hinges swinging wide
open on every door and compartment of the squad 
as they met one of their crewmates, who rushed to aid 
them.

Kelly grabbed up the defibrillator and the second
oxygen tank.

"How's he doing?!" Roy hollered, hastening.

"The same. Carotids're equal on both sides." Chet said.

"You remembered to check that. Good." Gage said, hurrying.

All three could see Stoker working quietly with Marco to
keep oxygen flowing into Hank's lungs well.

Johnny flinched as he looked up as Sierra Rescue landed their
bird on a gravel margin just up the road on an emergency
runaway truck escape lane. 

The roar of the rotors were compounded by the sound of bulldozers
coming to push the logs over the clifftop and out of the way of
the fire engine and waiting traffic. Gage covered his eyes protectively.

As he knelt, Johnny closed Hank's eyes, too, until they stayed shut
against the flying dirt. "Okay.." he shouted to the rescueman rangers
running their way with a stokes from the chopper running hot.
"Let's get him loaded!"

A minute later, Chet, Marco and Mike could only watch as Cap
was bundled head first into the helicopter and into Roy and 
Johnny's waiting hands, guided in by the bird's pilot.

Stoker felt something bump against him so he grabbed at it.
It had been put there by a bulldozer worker. "Here. Did you drop 
this one?" asked the man, chuckling.

Mike looked down and saw Cap's helmet in between their hands. 
"Yeah. I'll take it." he said, his eyes stinging from more than just
the wind. 

"No problem, Mac. Nice driving if you avoided that mess. I know how
crazy these loggers like to take their corners."

Stoker looked up at the loose faced cliffside, which was getting 
ignored by the DOT once again. ::Typical.:: he sighed. :: Don't we 
always only see what we want to see?::

------------------------------------------------------------------------
Inside the Sierra Ranger's National Park Service helicopter,
Gage and DeSoto had their hands going as fast as they
could go.

Morton's voice came over their headset earphones.
##Okay, 51. Set up for a rapid sequence intubation.
Pre-oxygenate for as long as possible, before
you fly. Use lidocaine as a pre-treatment.  Now!  I want to
prevent that rise in intracranial pressure we're going to get 
with intubation.##

"10-4, Rampart. Lidocaine 1.0 mg/kg slow I.V. push.
We have a saline lock established." reported DeSoto.

##That'll do.## Dr. Morton said, ##Large bore's premature.##

A Sierra medic kept breaths continuous while they prepared 
Stanley for an endotracheal tube. The EKG monitor wavered
unsteadily as Johnny flipped on the visual screen, already
wormy from the vibrations of the chopper.

##Apply cricoid pressure using the Sellick maneuver.
Paralyze with rocuronium, Roy. 0.6mg/kg. That paralytic
won't raise his ICP. Intubate using in-line C-spine stabilization
and release cricoid pressure only after successful intubation.
Food'll want to work its way up if it hasn't already. He's
got to be severely nauseated by now.## 

"Suction's ready." Roy nodded at Gage.

##Add mannitol, 1g/kg by rapid IV bolus over 10 - 15 minutes
to his I.V. port. And an anti-seizure of phenytoin, 15 mg/kg.##

DeSoto repeated his medication orders while Johnny
attempted his first intubation try. It went in.

"Okay, bag him. Catch up a little." Gage told the ranger medic.

"Got it." he replied.

"All right, let's lift off! He's intubated." Johnny shouted.

The chopper took to the smoky skies.

Morton came over the channel again. ##What's his pulse
rate? I can't tell by the EKG telemetry. There's too much
helicopter/bounce interference..##

"40, Rampart." Roy said. "Pressure's still 170 systolic."

##Okay, give him some atropine, 0.5 mg. to end that
brady's cycle. Once you're airborne, push Lasix, 40 to 
80 mg. I want to decrease his ICP further.##

Johnny finished gelling Cap's eyes under dressings
where they jutted out to protect them. He looked
up and reported one last cardiac interpretation for
the hospital. "Roy, I'm seeing. Non-specific EKG 
changes - large upright T waves, some ST 
depressions, ...and U waves."

---------------------------------------------------------------

Brackett had entered the alcove, to consult with Morton 
in the base station.. "Hmmm, U waves. Those are common 
enough in the severe head injury patient. Okay, Mike, summon 
the Neurosurgical Trauma Team a.s.a.p. and order up a stat CT 
Scan." Kel suggested.  

Morton looked at him. "But that'll take anywhere from 15 to 45 
minutes to complete."

Brackett lifted his chin, expressing his view. "With this intracranial 
hypertension definitely suspected, we have to assess the degree 
of ICP increase first to identify the cause of it so his surgeons will 
know how to proceed best."

Morton stayed true to his questioning nature. "But his ICP will 
continue to rise during radiographing."

Brackett was used to his resident's testing.
"It's a risk, yes. But operating without knowing where
the problem lies is more dangerous. I'm not
going to have anyone do blind burr holes, exposing
the additional risk of infection, when it might not
do any good at all in his case."

Morton nodded. "You're right, you know."

Kel met his eyes. "When he arrives, draw blood for electrolytes, 
blood urea nitrogen, creatinine, glucose, complete blood cell 
count with platelets, prothrombin time, activated partial 
thromboplastin time, toxicology screen and serum alcohol level, 
and blood type and crossmatch."

Morton went into motion, snatching up the black phone. 
"Right away, Kel."

Soon, both left the base station, anticipating Cap's arrival.

------------------------------------------
The stunned crew of engine 51 watched as the chopper took
off, taking Cap and their two frantically working paramedics
up into the air. 

For a brief second, nobody said a word. 

Then reality kicked in. They still had a job to do. As 
much as none of them wanted to do it, they knew they had 
to.  

One of the Sierra rescueman finally broke the silence, 
"Guys, we know it's not much comfort, but at least your 
Captain is headed for one of the best hospitals in the 
county."

Marco spoke quietly, "Thanks."

"You're welcome." said Ranger Matt Harper.

Mike was about to open his mouth when the engine's radio 
squawked to life momentarily, startling everybody. ##Engine 
51, Battalion 14.##

Mike reached into the cab of Big Red and grabbed the radio. 
"Go, Battalion 14."

##I need you to continue in to the orginal call. I have a tanker 
here that's getting angrier by the second and you're still the 
closest engine.##

Mike took a quick breath. ::Duty calls. Even now.:: "10-4, 
Battalion 14, ETA approximately three minutes. Be advised,
we have two members of Sierra rescue with us."

"Yep. Fireman Gage planned that. 10-4, 51. Battalion 14, out."

Mike turned back to the others. "Chet, Marco, let's get on the 
back. Let the guys from Sierra have your seats." The others 
snapped into action as Mike climbed back into the cab and 
started Big Red. Briefly, he looked over at the Captain's seat. 
All that remained to show that he had been there, was Hank's 
retrieved helmet.

Shaking his head to clear his mind and refocus, Mike pulled 
away with lights and sirens going as soon as the others 
were in belted in and in position. It took only two minutes 
for the engine to come screaming up to the scene. 
Within seconds everybody had piled out and off of the Ward. 

Chief Conrad jogged over as an ominous rumble was 
heard from the bridge. "And there some settling. Thanks guys, I 
know this isn't easy for any of you."

Chet and Marco held their tongues and Mike answered 
solemnly, "No sir, it's not. We want to keep at it. What do 
we have?"

"Initially, the tanker had escaping crude. However, more's
happening now. It's getting extremely close to exploding. 
The train engine's still steaming up there." he replied.

Chet muttered, "Lovely."

One of the two Sierra rescuemen spoke up, "Chief, do we 
know if there any victims?" said a man in his fifties.

Conrad frowned.
"Unknown at this time. It's still not safe enough to search 
the area. When the second chopper arrives, I'll have him circle
overhead. Squad 51 didn't find signs of anyone when they were 
here and I have not seen any since I've been on scene.
I'm banking on the possibility that they all got off."

"Okay." said Jack Moore, the chief ranger, nodding. 

Battalion started planning for an escalation of resources.
Conrad turned to 51's four and asked, "Do you have anything 
still with you representing a Captain's rank?"

Chet opened his mouth to say something nasty, but he 
quickly shut it when Mike shot him a look. 

Mike turned back to Conrad, "We have his helmet, sir. His turnouts
were cut away during trauma assessment." he told him, puzzled.

"Fair enough."

Suddenly the earth beneath their feet rolled and bucked as a loud 
BOOM!! was heard from above. Marco and Chet shouted at the 
same time, "Holy mother of..."

Conrad cut them off, "Get under cover until it's over! Mike no arguments!   
Take the hat now. You're promoted emergency status to captain. Go..."

Conrad left an extremely surprised and stunned Stoker and the 
rest of the engine crew with their jaws hanging open as he turned 
away to redirect in a more powerful water curtain. 

For a brief second, nobody could move. Then as a second 
explosion ripped through the air, reality kicked in. 

Mike turned and ordered in a voice that nobody had ever heard 
him use. "Marco, Chet, get a three and wye out. Sierra, have you 
had any experience on the lines?" he asked the two rangers with 
them.

Both guys from Sierra spoke at once, "Yes, but it's been a while."

"You're recruited, then. Get a two and a half inch unloaded. Kelly
and Lopez here'll show you how to lay and charge one." Stoker
said.

Mike's sudden alteration disrupted and distracted everybody. 

:: Even myself.::Mike trembled inwardly. ::Why me?::

But nobody had time to let that sink in. 
What they had to handle immediately was one nasty fireball 
that was going to get ahead of them quick if they didn't move! 

In a matter of minutes, Chet had the three inch hooked 
up and Marco had secured hose for Sierra. With slightly 
shaking hands, Mike set up the panel controls for both lines. 

Once they were going, he walked back to the cab, clutching
an HT now turned to the command channel. He didn't want 
to disrepect the fallen, but he had to follow orders. 

Stoker wearily climbed into the cab and removed his helmet. 

As he reached over for Cap's helmet, his hands briefly shook again. 

Mike thought to himself, ::Cap, get back quick. I'll mind the shop, 
but we need you back. Hopefully, I can do this now and not get anybody 
killed.:: Mike put the helmet on and adjusted it. Quietly, swallowing hard, 
Mike felt the scuffed number on the plate in front of the striped helmet 
where it sat on his dusty head. The helmet fit, bringing a lump to his throat. 
::Oh, Hank. Please be okay.:: he sighed. Then he quickly climbed back 
out of Big Red, and faced the fire.

Conrad ran back over, "Stoker I'm gonna need you to take over 
as incident commander. There's a new development in 
San Bernandino. A firestorm that needs me to join a think tank 
for an hour or so by telecommunications link."

Mike took a quick breath, "Yes sir. What do you have on the way 
in?" he asked, partially numb, feeling all eyes from Engine 51's crew
boring into his and the newly placed helmet. Their shock reflected
his own like a cracked mirror in a jumble of emotions.

"The whole kit and kaboodle from 8's, 2's, 24's and 110's. Squad 26, 
originally for Hank, was swapped as you know, and they should be here 
in seconds for your required paramedic backup crew, okay?" Conrad 
backed off then. He wanted to see how Mike would handle things 
before he went anywhere far away.

Mike cued up the radio as he drifted back to Engine 51 to recheck the 
pressure of the hoselines. "L.A., Engine 51. Update on Battalion 
14's incident.  The tanker is now fully engulfed, wind is from the east,
fifteen to twenty. Respond a foam unit to this location, non code R.
I am the new I.C. for the duration." 

##10-4, 51.##

14 smiled, reassured. He left for a tent going up just down the highway.

Chet snagged Mike's arm as he jogged by to go make a cleared zone
for standby Mayfairs. "You took the cap's test without telling any of us?"

"I took ninety fourth. Does that make you feel any better?" Stoker told him.

"No." 

"I feel exactly the same way." he muttered, once Kelly was out of sight 
under the building, roiling smoke.

Soon after, he ordered everybody into scba gear and full turnout.

-------------------------------------------------------------

Photo : Chet looking worried outside. 

Photo:  Cap hurt, down, stunned with  jacket open. 

Photo:  A resuscitator up close.

Photo: Morton on biocom at Rampart, in scrubs.

Photo: Battalion 14, head shot.

Photo: Chief's Battalion car, left side.

Photo: Battalion, Roy, and Johnny night turnouts by squad.

Photo: Fiery train burning on a viaduct.

Photo: Sierra Rescue Rangers and the 51 gang with stokes.

Photo: Squad 51 and Sierra Rescue stokes loading.

Photo: Chopper takeoff. Sierra's, direct.

Photo: Cap's helmet up close on top of the squad.

Photo: Stoker by the engine, looking tense, in a helmet.

*************************************************
From: patti keiper <pattik1@hotmail.com> 
Date: Fri Dec 7, 2007 8:28 pm 
Subject: Shattered 

It was an hour later and Station 51 had been
released from the knocked down viaduct train fire. 
No one had been injured or killed. But that was a 
miracle that neither Roy or Johnny could enjoy.

Dr. Brackett immediately closed the chart he
was looking at on a case and intercepted
Roy and Johnny as they came in with an empty
supplies box, still sooty from smoke.

Kel grinned. "So that's your excuse for showing up
at Rampart without a patient, huh?" he gibbed gently.

Gage's face was full of stress. "Doc, you know why.."

Brackett held up his hand in easy defense.
"We're going to be conducting a funduscopic examination in 
a few minutes. We really won't know more until after that. 
I'm sorry. We might be dealing with impending brain swelling 
or a non depressed linear fracture. Mike Stoker called
and said he thought that Stanley's head might have struck
the dashboard when your engine braked so hard."

"So what's the next step?" DeSoto whispered.

Kel sighed, wearily. "Hank may need an ICP Monitor."

Roy pursed his lips, paying very close attention. "What's 
that?" he asked, guarded. "I- I'll need to know that, so I
can tell his wife..."

"It's a device used to measure pressure within the brain.
It consists of a small tube, placed into or on top of the brain 
through a small hole in the skull, connected to a transducer that 
registers the pressure and with it, we can--"

Johnny protested. "Wait a minute, you guys want to stab
a probe into his brain?" He stood there, hands on his hips,
controlling himself out of anger, frustration.

DeSoto echoed him, but softer. "Is it worth that risk, doc?"

Kel was honest, leaving nothing out.
"Yes. We have to know how high his ICP is before we
can do anything else. If you'll excuse me, we're about
to begin." he said. "I'll let you know the moment I hear
about a change."

Gage stopped him. "Is he off the respirator yet?"

"I'm afraid not. He hasn't improved respiratory function yet.
He's still on full support."

The two paramedics fell mute, overwhelmed.

Brackett left, hurrying for the radiography room, leaving
the Squad 51 pair standing there, morosely, and alone.

Out of their visual, Dr. Morton had been listening in the 
hallway to the conversation Dr. Brackett was having with 
his senior most paramedics. ::That's definitely not enough.::
Mike decided, so he flagged the two of them down, offering 
up fresh coffee. He got right to the subject. "You've seen 
his clinical signs and symptoms of acute increased 
intracranial pressure?" he asked, handing off the cups.

Roy nodded, taking the offering. "Yeah, the pupillary 
dysfunction, hypertension, and the bradycardia." He 
gulped his down in one long swallow.

Johnny took his cup, but didn't drink. "What about that earlier 
reported posturing? Does that mean that damage might
happen or already has?"

Morton put an immediate curb on their distress. "Don't jump 
the gun before it's fired, fellas, just hear me out first."

Mike puzzled over their reaction when both flinched, and
rubbed the same hand as they looked at them, as if searching 
for missed blood.  He didn't think about it further. He fell into 
what he was good at doing, ..analyzing. "Now boys, as you know, 
increases in intracranial pressure compress the brain within 
the rigid skull, reducing cerebral blood flow, prompting reflex 
hypertension to maintain cerebral perfusion.  As intracranial 
pressure increases further, the contents of the skull can no 
longer remain in place.  Focal increases in pressure, such 
as acute hemorrhages or fluid buildup, can result in gross 
deviations in anatomy. This is what might be happening 
to Hank, I'm afraid."

Gage almost dropped his coffee onto the floor. "Herniation?!"
He had already forgotten completely about it. Mike took it out
of Johnny's hand and set it onto Dixie's empty desk.

Morton held up a reassuring hand. "The term "herniation" is 
used loosely when intracranial pressure increases. But there 
are specific herniation syndromes with different mechanisms 
and outcomes. Some aren't fatal or paralyzing at all. We have 
to find out which one is effecting your captain before we can 
proceed on anything. Once we identify the problem for certain, 
we still can intervene early enough to prevent any further 
permanently damaging effects and migration. Excuse me, 
I'm going to attend his CT session with Kel right now. I'll let 
you know as soon as I find out the answer."

"Don't tell us first, doc. Please tell his family." Roy
said. "They're more frightened than we are."

Morton met DeSoto's eyes and promised that with
a look before he hurried off into the scanning room.

Gage turned to his partner. "Don't you hate the fact
that we have to dump and run all the time? I wish we
could have stayed with Cap the whole time from
the moment we first brought him in here.." he growled.
"That way, we wouldn't be one of those people they
leave in the dark. We'd know EXACTLY what's going 
on.." he sobbed, furious. Angrily, Gage swiped away hot
tears as he threw the box away and headed back for
the squad.

Roy had no answer or comforting words to say either.

Silence reigned the entire trip back to the station.
Worn out and feeling Hank's absense acutely, they
got out of the cab in the bay and headed for the kitchen.

They overheard Chet giving Stoker a hard time.
"What, Stoker? You're the resident skunk now. 
We expect you to raise a little stink, so come on
and tell us how you really feel about wearing 
a striped hat. You can always order Marco and I to
shut up."

Johnny entered the room and erupted. "Would you
just cut that out?! Do you really think that Mike had
any say in the matter at all about filling in and taking 
over?"

Chet didn't cower and he didn't back down, for he was
in just as much pain as the rest of them were.
"I never thought that, and thank you for barging into our
private little trio of conversation. That was really big of 
you." He turned to Stoker. "You know what they say about
paramedics. They think they're demigods or something
just because they save a few lives with fancy drugs we
know nothing about. See how they like to control 
everything? Boy, am I glad neither one of them got skunked
by the chief, or we'd never hear the end of it."

Gage didn't speak, he acted. Johnny grabbed 
Chet by the collar and lifted him to his feet forcefully.

The rest of the gang immediately intercepted, getting
in between the two of them, all talking chaotically at once.

All except Mike Stoker, who didn't move out of his
chair. "Johnny! What would Hank think if I had to put
you on report for--" his voice broke and the single 
sob that slipped out, hit everyone like ice water.

Without a sound, Mike left the room, not for the
office, but for the gym. They all heard the door
slam hard behind him. But its thick steel did nothing
to hide the sounds of crying. 

It was coming through the bullet hole left behind by
Marco's erstwhile alley shooter.

Johnny let Chet go swiftly. "I'm sorry. I... It's just that..."

"I know." said Kelly, setting up the chair that had fallen
over behind him. "I get it." he said. "I don't think any
of us knows how to act anymore when it's not all
on business."

Marco spoke for all of them. "So, are we going to be
taking a flag down half mast tonight? Or not?"

The others looked at Lopez who had spoken the
unspeakable for each, and stared, with sharpness
that went quickly numb.

Finally DeSoto sighed, shaking his head. "It's too soon to tell."

Gage buried a very tired face into his hands. "They'll call."

Chet grew depressed even more. "Same as they always do."

Mike Stoker re-entered the room with a velvet box. Inside
of it were Hank's spare set of double bugles. His face was
dry, but vacant. "Would somebody please show me how 
these go on? I can't seem to remember." His voice broke
again, into agony.

"Sure." said all the others, and they rose to their feet to
help him, instantly. Brother to brother.

Chet patted Stoker on the back. "You did great job out there
today, pal. You should know that. I didn't blister my back. Not 
even once." 

Marco jumped on that bandwagon. "Hey, neither did I. Does
that mean we don't have to polish the chrome?"

Mike snuffled through his tears.. "Maybe.. You did keep your
butts good and safe like he--...like I told you to." he said blankly.

Roy touched his arm. "You can do this. The chief never 
would have kicked you upstairs if he figured you couldn't 
handle it."

Gage handed him a kleenix. "Cap's not going to die."

Stoker blew his nose into it. "You're very certain of that."

"Of course." Gage said, scoffing grandly.

Kelly leaned in and straightened out one of Stoker's new pins.
"That's because we were all over him and did everything
right the first time. So let's hear it for Station 51!"

The gang of five let out a cheer loud enough to trick Henry
into barking from where he was exploring, inside the mop 
cupboard out in the bay.

And that was the first time any of them saw a smile bloom 
sincerely on Mike Stoker's face since that first terrifying moment 
when they all knew that Hank had gone down.

Stoker giggled, pointing over his shoulder. "I think somebody
needs to play." 

"We all do, come on, let's go throw a few tennis balls around 
for him for a little while. It'll do us some good." Johnny invited. 

Kelly dragged to his feet, teasing, "At least Henry's tail's still
wagging." he said as he followed the others out into the garage.

Inwardly, the gang was reassured at last, that everything was 
still fine, except for that one big change that nobody had the
power to undo.

-------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Photo:  Roy and Johnny in the hospital, worried.

Photo:   Brackett closeup, wearing surgical greens.

Photo:   Kel in scrubs, talking with DeSoto and Gage.

Photo:   Chet and Marco arguing. 

Photo:   Gage, looking upset by the squad.

Photo:    Roy and Johnny arguing in the bay.

Photo:    Henry, loafing on the couch.

**************************************************
From: Erin James <etlhostej@voyagerliveaction.com>
Date: Fri Dec 7, 2007 11:18 pm
Subject: All For Honor 
 
Henry had worn the guys out, mercifully. They all trapsed in to 
wind down for the night. Being the next senior member of the crew, 
Roy decided to ask, "Mike, would you like me to do the flag?"

Mike's eyes reflected the pure agony he felt. "N-no, thanks Roy. I 
want to. No, I have to do it tonight."

Roy could hear the emotion in Mike's voice. "Okay, Mike."

Johnny had walked through the bay and heard Mike. He shot Roy 
a questioning look. Roy waved him off and mouthed, "Keep Chet 
and Marco busy for a bit."

Johnny didn't want to argue and shook his head in the affirmative. 
He quietly exited the bay in search of the other two.  Roy squeezed 
Mike's shoulder and whispered, "Take your time, Mikey, uh, nobody is 
in a hurry."

Mike kept his voice barely even, "Thanks, Roy."

"You're welcome." DeSoto smiled.

Mike stepped away from Roy and walked back to the locker 
room. In seconds, he returned wearing the white gloves that went 
with his dress uniform. Roy walked over and hit the button to open 
the big bay door. Then he stood stock still as Mike passed him. 

The sight of the flags blowing gently in the breeze as the sun 
was setting was almost to much for Roy to handle, but he 
stayed put. He wanted to make sure he was close to Mike, in 
case something happened. 

Mike walked by Roy with a slight nod of his head to acknowledge 
him. He was extremely focused.

::I know what I have to do and I know it's gonna hurt like h*** 
to do it.:: Stoker sighed mentally. Slowly, Mike walked 
out to the flag pole. It was a walk that he had taken too many times 
to count, but this time, it was different. 

This time, he was doing it as a Captain, albeit temporary. 

Mike stepped back and snapped to attention. Then slowly, 
ceremoniously, he brought his arm up in a salute that brought tears 
to his eyes. With wet eyes, Mike lowered his arm and approached 
the flag pole. He slowly undid the rope at the pole and lowered 
the flags down until he could reach the state flag. He then quickly 
ran the stars and stripes back up. 

::I'll do that one just as the sun hits where I want it to.::

 Mike made quick work of folding the state flag. Without a word, he 
turned on his heels and brought the state flag inside. Once it was 
secured into its locker, he took a deep breath. 

::This is going to hurt so much. Can I bear it?:: Mike wondered.
::It's the anniversary of our return back home. And he's not here.::

Again, Roy and Mike acknowledged each other with a simple nod of 
the head. Mike's eyes stung as he walked back outside. He repeated 
the formal walking steps again until he was centered once more
with the flag pole. 

For a second time, he snapped to attention. This time, he brought 
his arm up even slower. 

As he did he turned his eyes, just a bit above the flag and whispered, 
"God speed, C-Commander Billings.  And come home to us soon, 
Cap."

Fighting his welling emotions, Mike walked back to the pole and 
once again undid the rope. He lowered the flag at a medium speed, 
not to slow or too fast but at the right speed. Once the flag was within 
his reach, he tied the rope off. 

::This was never easy to do solo, especially not tonight.:: he thought.

With a slight shake in his hands, Mike began folding the flag, slowly, 
making sure each fold was perfect. As he came to the last folds he 
held the flag to his chest in one hand. With his other hand shaking 
slightly, he unhooked the flag from the rope. 

He made his final folds as the sun backlit the sky in a pinky-purplish 
color, he whispered, "Commander Billings, it was an honor to serve 
under you. And Cap, I will keep the bugles warm, but they are rightfully 
yours. Get well soon, sir. Please hurry."

As he brought the final fold of the flag to his chest, Mike's emotions 
overtook him. He sank to one knee, clutching the flag to his chest
like a lifeline. His head bowed, the tears finally poured forth without 
restraint. Tears for a life taken and tears for another man fighting 
desperately for his. Tears of grief and tears of pain fell and
soaked the driveway of 51's. 

Roy watched Mike sag after he made the final fold and silently walked 
out to his hurting friend. Memories of his time spent in Viet Nam
rose fresh to the surface. He remembered rank and decorum in
a flash and the strength of it took his breath away. Roy put his hand 
on Mike's shoulder as his tears finally slowed and he whispered, 
"You did it, Petty Officer Stoker. The sun's down and it's well and gone. 
Captain? Let's put Old Glory to bed and start that way ourselves." 

Mike looked up at Roy. Navy eyes met understanding Army ones. 
"Can I do this last thing, Sargeant?" he asked, reliving something
far away.

Roy smiled lightly, "You bet your boot straps you can, pal."

Mike bowed his head one last time to regain his composure. Roy 
didn't move from his friend's side. After a minute, Mike slowly got to 
his feet and said quietly, "Thanks, Roy."

"You're welcome."

Together the duo walked back into the station in like step, trying to 
forget an unforgettable day.

---------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Photo:  A flag at sunset.

Photo:  Mike Stoker folding a flag at the pole outside Station 51.

Photo:  Roy, on the edge of tears in a close up.

**************************************************
From: patti keiper <pattik1@hotmail.com> 
Date: Sat Dec 8, 2007 12:01 am 
Subject: Just Put It In A Nutshell For Crying Out Loud 


Deep on the second floor of the hospital, two doctors
were viewing Cap's CT scan results.

The neuro turned to Kel, pointing. "The suprasellar cistern is 
obliterated. The quadrigeminal cistern is very compressed and 
pushed posteriorly. Here and here.  And there is central 
transtentorial and subfalcine herniation."

"That's definite?" Brackett questioned.

"Yes. See? This shows a shift of the midline structures
and compression of the lateral ventricle secondary either to 
a bleed or edema."

"So we operate.."

"Immediately.." replied the specialist.

Kel, turned to Nurse McCall, who was monitoring Hank's
position on his side so none of his internal lines or catheters
snagged as the great electronic donut continued to encircle him. 
"Dixie start him on additional moderate doses of IV mannitol.
Administer 0.25 - 0.5g/kg over 20 minutes IV. We have
to hurry a little faster on trying to dry out and shrink down 
his cerebrum. How's his CVP?"

"170. The same. And his heartrate's still erratic." she reported.

"Lidocaine. Maintain a beat of seventy. Even it out." Kel
ordered. He turned to the neurosurgeon. "Let's go."

--------------------------------------------------------------------------

In the middle of the night, a phone rang in Station 51. 

Roy DeSoto was the first one to race out of his bed to 
intercept it.  Amid loud scramblings to kick the speaker 
button on, he heard Kel share the first of his news on 
Hank.

##So far so good. He hasn't suffered any seizures.##

Gage couldn't contain himself, scared. "What did you find?
Oh,.. our Mike? He's still sleeping. We covered his head with
a pillow so he wouldn't hear the phone ring..."

Kel smiled on his end. ##Filtering out the bad or good?
I can't argue with that. Look, we found active changes. 
But of an operable type. Captain Stanley has what we
refer to as a transtentorial herniation. The medial 
portions of the temporal lobes and the brainstem 
have slid downward into his infratentorial compartment.  
And that didn't happen this afternoon. That happened 
yesterday, probably very early in the morning."

Kelly sucked in his breath. "Doc, he did hit his head. His
bed fell apart while he and his wife were rolling in the hay. 
Probably around five or so, knowing when his wife gets 
home from work.. Uh, you know how it goes..."

The others smacked him for his indiscretion.

##So his injury was precipitated... That explains a lot.
The coup/contra-coup from the log incident only 
exacerbated what should have been just a mild concussion. 
The clinical signs of that initially include a headache, 
decreasing levels of consciousness, moodiness, 
and an isiplateral fixed dilated pupil from compression 
of the third cranial nerve on the ipsilateral side.##

"We missed that entirely, doc. Cap's got dark eyes."
Roy reported. 

##Easy to do. As herniation worsens, there's
decerebrate, extensor posturing, contralateral 
pupillary dilation and then Cushing's triad occurs.

Now Cushing's triad includes alteration in respiration, 
bradycardia, and systemic hypertension.  It is rare to 
have all three present, but it does occur. Often there is just 
bradycardia alone.  Children tolerate brainstem 
compression produced by herniation better than adults.
I'll be honest with you, things aren't looking good so far.

But immediate, early intervention can result in a complete 
recovery.##

"Doctor Morton said it might." Gage sighed, looking for hope.

Brackett was encouraging. ##Especially aggressive intervention 
at the stage of bilateral pupillary dysfunction, decerebrate 
posturing and bradycardia. Like where your captain's at. He 
has a fifty fifty chance of surviving this injury, fully intact. Don't 
worry, he's not anywhere near a risk of death. You guys 
overcame that when you took over his breathing and airway 
care after you found him apneic. Whoever was with him, 
when he first collapsed, probably saved his life.##

The relieved sighs in the room got louder than Mike's natural 
snoring in the background. And more than one pair of happy
eyes fell on the lump Mike was making under his blankets.

##Now his CT scan shows obliteration of the suprasellar and 
quadrigeminal cisterns.  Those are just spaces gentlemen,
and not actual tissue. They're buffer zones. We'll see later on 
after surgery if those areas include an actual infarct or brainstem 
hemorrhage.##

Chet quailed, understanding at least that last bit. "A stroke?"

Brackett was truthful. ##It's possible.. It's one explanation.##

Kelly lowered his head to hide new tears. "Oh, that's heavy."

Kel was honest. ##Yes, it is. Only time will tell at this point. If
and when he awakens for us.##

Dixie broke into the phone call from a side connection.
##So let's just keep our hopes up. And gentlemen, stop
your blubbering. You're upsetting me, and I'm Hank's best 
nurse. Do you want me to get him upset, too?##

----------------------------------------------------------------
In surgery, the neurosurgeon shared something
new to Brackett who had only just starting observing. 
"There's obvious bilateral intraventricular CNS leakage 
and ventricular dilatation.  Luckily, his extensor posturing 
only suggested the possibility of impending herniation."  

Brackett was rapt, peering into Cap's open skull. "How so?"

The surgeon clarified. "He sustained more episodes of bradycardia 
but they responded well to your doses of IV mannitol.  So we
neurosurgeons decompressed his ventricles immediately and his 
MAP and ICP returned to normal in seconds. And I'm finding no 
areas of active hemorrhaging."

Brackett whistled under his mask. "Lucky."

The surgeon beamed. "Just like I said."

-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
It was almost dawn when Dr. Brackett re-telephoned
the station. Once again, he had a conversation with
the crew in conference.  It wasn't obvious, but
Kel's first words were directed at his paramedics.
"It's looking real good. Already, the anesthesiologist says
he's showing signs of waking up."

Marco let out the breath he was holding. "Oh, that's a relief."

##He should be breathing on his own in about fifteen minutes
once his sedation wears off. His pupils are normal.##

"What was it?" asked Roy.

##Fluid on the brain only. Not an epidural not a subdural or
dural anything. Simply one small tiny leak of cerebral spinal
fluid into his nearest intracortical spaces. No bleeding at all.
As he recovers, about one out of twenty head-injury patients 
will have seizures in the first days following the injury. If his blood 
pressure is stable, dilantin at 18 mg/kg will be given as prophylaxis.
The longer he goes without having one, the better the chances are
that he'll never have them. ##

Gage was firm on anticipating. "Until the next head injury."

Kel yawned, relaxing at last. ##Sorry, the surgery lasted most of
the night. Yes, second impact syndrome remains a future possibility.
That's what I thought this was when I first saw him. If it had been, 
your captain would have been a dead man inside of two minutes. 
Please do me a favor tell him about it when he gets back to work?##

Both Roy and Johnny promised dividends, in stereo. "Oh, you bet. 
We sure will."

------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Photo:  Kel Brackett in CT consult with neurosurgeons.

Photo:  A CT scan of a transtentorial herniation, skull series.

Photo:  Roy on a payphone, closeup in darkness.

Photo:  Johnny in bed, looking worried in the dark.

Photo:  Dr. Brackett calling from his office.

Photo:  Dixie and Kel looking worried as they treat.

Photo: Kel and Dixie looking at you wearing surgical masks.

Photo:  A surgeon's scalpel cutting into a sterile field.

Photo:  Doctors operating on someone anesthetized.

Photo: Roy and Johnny on a payphone, looking thoughtful.

**************************************************
From: Erin J. <etlhostej@voyagerliveaction.com>
and lin butler  <psi1whitefeather@msn.com>
Date:  Tue Dec 11, 2007 9:37 pm 
Subject: Welcome Home

It had been a few weeks since Cap's injury and surgery and the 
crew of 51 surrounded the dayroom table. Chet, Marco, and 
Mike were seated there along with Mike's wife, Roy's wife and 
kids. Marco's mom was also present along with the crew 
from Rampart. 

Everybody had been waiting for a while and were sprawled 
everywhere. Even Henry had given up his spot on the couch 
for a comfy spot on the floor with the DeSoto kids. 

Battalion Chief Conrad, along with Sierra Rangers Matt Harper 
and Jack Moore, had arrived to join the gang. And Johnny 
and Roy had just returned in from the bay. Johnny leaned over the 
kitchen table, attempting to make a point. John was on one of 
his famous Gage rants concerning stuff only he knew what, 
to which the others only paid restless attention to. For good reason.

They were all gathered to welcome back Hank Stanley with a 
surprise party. 

Chet and Johnny had been given the task of making sure Hank didn't 
find out about it. Marco was coordinating the food, his mom's cooking, 
and everybody else's pot luck. Roy was in charge of the phone and 
making sure people were staying in touch. 

And it was his idea to contact Conrad and get his blessing for some 
of the things that they were going to do. 

Mike, still somewhat overwhelmed with running the station, was 
on 'Honoring Hank' duty and double checking the station's final 
touch ups. Mike made sure the place was ready, without a complaint
from anyone, and the paperwork was all in. Much to his relief! 

The phone rang and froze Johnny in mid-word attempting to make 
a point that was suddenly forgotten. Being closest to the phone, 
Roy, with an excited tone said, "I got it!"  He picked up the dayroom 
phone said, "Station 51, This is Fireman Roy DeSoto." He listened 
for a moment then said, "Right, got it." and hung up. 
Roy turned to the others, "He's five to ten out." 

Marco quickly translated for his mom as Roy said it to everybody 
else.  As soon as Roy gave a time frame, the room broke into what 
appeared to be controlled chaos. 

They all knew what they were doing and it was the just hubbub of 
getting in to place to surprise Hank. Everybody but A-shift, was 
headed for the dorms. And the gang headed for the engine 
and the squad. Marco stopped briefly to tell his mom he'd be 
right back. She nodded okay and then joined the others as Marco 
hopped on the engine. 

As if they were on a call, both trucks pulled out of the station with 
all their lights going. Everybody was excited.This was no ordinary call. 

This was the call to trick Hank as they welcomed him back. Roy 
led Station 51 down the block and around the corner. The 
smaller squad moved away only far enough to just see the station
left behind. 

Everybody knew what Hank would be driving; he only had the 
one car. And as soon as they saw it, they would pounce. 

On the engine, Chet bounced like a little kid and said repeatedly, 
"Is he there yet? Is he there yet?"

Mike turned around and good naturedly said, "No, but if you don't 
stay good, you'll be in your office while everyone else parties." 

"But I don't wanna be good, I wanna party!"

Chet realized then that he had to calm down or he'd be latrine officer 
for the rest of the day. That quickly settled him down. 

Conrad had cleverly set up L.A. County dispatch to send a signal to the 
guys. The cue for everybody hiding, would be Roy return reply.  

Seven minutes after Roy hung up with Hank's wife, Hank's car was 
spotted from where station 51 was idling along a curb.Two blocks back, 
unbeknowst to Hank, was his wife, parked nearby. Johnny watched 
Hank's car turn into the station parking and then looked over at Roy. 
"It's party time, partner!" he crowed as the infamous Gage grin 
appeared. 

Roy smirked and said, "For the first time in my life, I'll be dying 
to say these words." Roy picked up the squad's radio and said, 
"Station 51, on scene."

Sam Lanier came back. "10-4, 51." 

Ear to ear grins lit up in both trucks and the dorm room at 51's. 

-----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
As the trucks headed back in a short loop, an unsuspecting Hank, 
wearing a dark blue Station 51 polo shirt and khakis, walked 
into the station. He had just ambled into the empty bay when 
Roy's "Station 51 on scene" came blaring over the speaker. 

Hank thought to himself as he looked around at the deserted 
station, ::D*mn it. I should be out there.:: Then he thought as 
he looked up at the speaker, ::Be safe boys, come home.:: 
Then the Captain in him came to the forefront as he awaited
the return of his crew, quietly sitting in his black leather recliner
with Henry.

Much to Hank's surprise that return was faster than he 
expected, for only minutes after Roy had called the station 
on scene, the bay door opened. Concerned, Hank turned and 
walked back into the bay. The station was still his main life 
and he wanted to make sure all was well. As first the engine, then 
the squad backed into the bay, Hank's eyebrows tried to 
climb up into his hairline. ::What the h*ll is going on here?:: 
he thought, watching them settle in.

As the trucks emptied, the crew didn't hide their grins. 
Hank was home. 

Johnny commented with a wave to Hank as he looked 
down at a slightly damp shirt, "I gotta go change before I 
stick to something."

Roy chuckled, "Yeah Junior, I think the department would 
rather you lose a shirt, then they have to replace something else
because you stuck to it."

Johnny headed for the dorms. The rest of the crew grinned as 
they met Hank by the door way leading into the dayroom. Mike
waved too, and asked, "Hey Cap, you want some coffee?"

Hank grinned, "Shouldn't I be calling you Cap, Stoker?" 

Mike blushed to his toes. At the same time Hank's wife arrived 
and joined the hidden parade of people leaving the dorms for 
the kitchen. 

Hank turned at the sound of footsteps in the bay. Before he could 
accept his steaming cup, a rousing "SURPRISE!!" echoed through 
the room. Hank's jaw promptly hit the floor. Hank thought 
::Engage brain, then mouth:: as the shock poured over him.

Grinning from ear to ear A-shift yelled, "Welcome Home Hank!" 
And the rest of the full room erupted in applause. 

Just as the din died down, the tones went off. Naturally, 
everybody turned to listen. Sam's voice rang out, ##L.A. testing with 
Station 51. Welcome back, Captain Hank Stanley.##

Stunned to the brink of tears, Hank walked out into the bay
and over to the radio alcove. He picked up the mic and replied, 
"Station 51, 10-4 KMG 365." Again the station erupted into cheers. 

Hank turned around and softly said, "You're making me cry, 
ya twits." His eyes were moist as he accepted hugs and 
handshakes from all.

From the middle of the crowd Marco spoke on his mom's behalf, 
"Momma is going to have our heads on silver platters if we don't 
eat NOW." Lopez shouted plainatively.

Everybody chuckled and paraded back into the dayroom. 

But one person hadn't yet. Chief Conrad was keeping himself well 
hidden from Hank's sight, waiting for another cue of Henry being
sent in to fetch him.

Hank waited until everybody was crashed with food in either a chair, on the 
couch or on the floor before he spoke. "You guys got me good, 
but can I ask a few things?"

Mike said happily, "Sure."

"Where are all the cars?"

Joanne spoke up with a guilty tone in her voice, "I pulled a few 
strings. They're all across the street at the plant."

Hank chuckled. "Now for the big one, how did you keep me 
from not knowing about this?"

Johnny and Chet both ducked. Johnny said, "Uh, Cap, would you 
believe the Phantom and his Pigeon combined for once on a prank?"

Hank shuttered lightly and said, "Uh-oh." 

Everybody chuckled. 

Mike motioned for Jack and Matt to join him. Together the trio 
walked over to Hank. Hank asked, "What's up, Mike?"

Mike replied, "Cap, I just wanted you to meet the guys from Sierra 
who jumped off the chopper when Johnny and Roy loaded you on. 
These are Rangers Matt Harper and Jack Moore." Mike grinned 
at Matt and Jack, "Guys, meet Captain Hank Stanley." 

Handshakes were exchanged as Hank smiled at them, "Thanks, guys."

Jack said, "You're welcome, sir."

Matt added, 'Welcome back." 

Mike said, "Hey. That's right. If you ever need a couple of good 
linemen, Cap, call these two."

Hank was surprised, "Oh?" ::Recruited to fight a fire? Wow.::

Jack said, "Yeah, it was fun." he remembered, rubbing his hands 
together.

"Good." Hank smiled as he finally understood just how fast his 
engineer had become a Captain on his feet. 

After the quick introduction, the food was enjoyed and so was the 
company. Hank knew he was home at last but he also knew
that more surprises were probably forthcoming. 

He wasn't disappointed. As Hank turned his back to the doorway to 
look over at his wife, Henry pranced out of the room at a cue
from Chet to go fetch a certain somebody.

Seeing him, Conrad snuck towards the back door and quickly 
opened and closed it like he had just arrived. He walked slowly and 
professionally into the kitchen. Mike was the first one to spot him. In his 
Captain's tone, Mike called out, "Station 51, ten hut." 

Mike's words brought the room to a stand still and A-shift. Including 
a surprised Hank, who thought ::Whoa. I've never heard him use 
that tone of voice before:: to their feet. Conrad walked into the 
room and smiled, "A-shift in the bay for inspection that includes 
you, Hank." 

Everybody else was curious to know what was going on and 
followed the firemen filing into the bay. A-shift grabbed their 
dress hats out of the closet and quickly lined up. Conrad 
called, "Hank, please join me in an inspection of your men. 
After all, we want to make sure they're in top shape when 
you come back in the morning."

Hank smiled as he walked over to Conrad, "I'd be honored, sir." 
A pin drop could have been heard as all eyes were glued to 
Conrad and Stanley. 

Conrad stepped back and let Hank inspect his men. Not a word 
was spoken as Hank looked over each man. He started with 
Johnny and noted. ::His hair is shorter, at least for Gage and 
dang, that's his hat!:: With a smile, Hank moved on to Chet. 
::Man this must be important. Chester B. is actually at attention. 
Am I really that respected?:: Next was Marco. Hank saw the smile 
and the look in his eyes and thought ::All is well.:: Roy was next 
and Hank had to smile at the relief in his senior medic's eyes 
as he thought. ::I'm home.::

Finally it was Mike's turn. This was the hardest, for Mike had been 
the one to catch him when he first went down. Hank knew he 
had Mike to thank for his life. 

Tears shone in both pairs of eyes as relief mixed with gratitude 
without a word being exchanged.  Hank grew concerned as 
he noted Mike seemed nervous for some reason, which wasn't 
like the quiet engineer at all. ::I wonder why.::
 
Hank was just about to step away from Mike when Conrad said, 
"Captain Stanley, I do believe you're out of uniform."

Slightly confused, Hank turned, "Sir?"

Mike took a final breath and cut off Conrad before he could 
speak. "Uh sir, I know it was your wish to do this, but with 
all due respect I'd like to. No sir, I need to do this."

Conrad smilled at the soft spoken Engineer, "Sure, go ahead 
Stoker. You deserve it." 

Hank's confusion grew as Mike broke rank and stepped 
in front of him. Hank asked, "What...?"

Mike cut Hank off and said, "Hank,.. uh,..Captain Stanley. The day 
you went down I was handed a set of bugles for safe 
keeping. I've kept them warm, but with your permission, sir, 
I'd like to give them back to their rightful owner."

Eyes were wet around the bay as Mike, with shaking hands, 
removed the bugles from his own collar. Hank fought his own 
emotions as he watched his Engineer turned
Captain give up the bugles that meant so much to both of 
them. Then Mike once again looked at Chief Conrad, 
"Sir, with the department's permission I'd like to 
re-pin Captain Stanley's bugles on."

Conrad swallowed a lump in his throat and said, 
"Permission granted, Engineer Stoker. You'll get your 
own set soon for good one day."

Mike smiled and snapped to attention with the bugles 
in hand. He clicked his heels and turned to face Hank, 
who had also come back to attention. Slowly, 
purposefully, Mike re-ranked Hank, setting one silver bugle 
on each side lapel. Then stepped back and saluted his 
Captain. 

The rest of A-shift also saluted Hank solemnly formal.

Stunned at the gesture, Hank returned the salute to not 
only Mike but all the rest.

After a few moments to regain emotional control, Hank 
said, "Mike."

"Yeah Cap?"

"When you get your bugles, I want to decorate you."

Mike smiled warmly, deeply moved. 
"Wouldn't miss it. Welcome home, Cap."

With the ceremony out of the way, the party continued. 

Finally, grudgingly it was time to go. 

Slowly, the families broke away. Chief Conrad and the
forest ranger rescuers left, and so did Hank's wife. 

It was just A-shift back together again for the first 
time in way too long. Hank looked the members of his 
fire family in the eye and said, "Thank you."

Together they all smiled and chorused, "You're welcome, 
Cap."

Hank smiled, "Okay ya twits. The party's over. It's time to go 
back to work." he chuckled, "I'll see you guys in the morning." 

-------------------------------------------------

Photo:   Dixie with long hair in street clothes close up. 

Photo:    Dixie hugging Henry.

Photo:    Joanne, Dixie, Kel at a party in nice clothes, drinking.

Photo:   Morton and Roy at a table with Johnny dickering nearby. 

Photo:  Joe Early having a blast, entertaining in a gray suit.

Photo:   Closeup of Henry.

Photo:   Marco's mom cooking tortillas.

Photo:   The gang getting into their vehicles in the bay.

Photo:   The gang laughing in the kitchen. Marco, Stoker, Roy and Johnny.

Photo:   Chief Conrad close at the station.

Photo:   Cap with the gang in an inspection line.

Photo:   Cap in inspection dress shaking Battalion's hand.

**************************************************
From: "Patti" <theaterhost@voyagerliveaction.com>
Subject:  The "Cap" Endcap
Date: Dec 12, 2007 2:39 am 


Hank found Mike heading out to the front for his usual
habit of putting out the station's color flags for the day. 

Already, it was warm and breezy, even with the sun just 
barely off the horizon.

"It's sure promising to be a hot one, eh?" Stanley asked,
announcing himself as he got near.

"Yeah, especially this early in the year." said Mike.
"How are you doing? Does it feel funny being back 
at work?"

"Not really." Stanley said, helping him unfold the flags
one by one and hooking them up to their snaffles on
the pulley rope. "It's something I've been looking 
forward to. No physical therapy, no neurological
assessments,..." he took in a deep breath, "...no
more unnecessary naps." he said with distaste.

Stoker chuckled. "That was your wife's doing."

"Yeah, well she's done quite enough, thank you. 
I got restless. And as soon as I was physician cleared
to return. I came." he shrugged.

"I'm glad you're back, Cap. We've missed you." Mike
said, tying off the rope as the chains rang against
the aluminum pole as the flags reached the height.

"Now that, I find hard to believe." Stanley pegged with
a stare.

"It's true."

Hank smiled, and dropped his chin to his chest,
shaking his head ruefully. "I don't even have to ask
the chief how you've been doing. The place is clean,
the paperwork's in order, the trucks are spotless..."
he looked up at Mike and wondered. "Did you have to
do a lot of yelling to get them to get the chores done?"

Stoker began to squirm. "Not exactly, Cap. I.. really didn't
have to tell them anything. Things just.. sort of.. got done."
he said uncomfortably.

"Really?" Hank was genuinely astonished. Then he frowned
jealously. "Saying nothing and waiting never seems to work for
me." he admitted. "And I've never been able to figure out quite
why.."

Mike just came out with it. "It's the grumble factor, Cap."

It was Stanley's turn to stammer a bit. "The gr--  oh, you mean... 
what I do..when I..... you know."

"Give orders?" Mike suggested.

"Yeah..." Hank said, relieved that Mike guessed it. "Is it really that
bad to get 'em from me?"

Now Mike smiled. "Not on a call. Never then. But sometimes, 
in between them, on the sleepless days." he confessed.
"But we all know it's just your personality type.." Mike nodded
vigorously. "You're a shy guy and like to hide behind a little bluster."

"I do?"

"Yep."

"Oh. Well. Uh, if you say so." Hank muttered, frowning as he mulled 
it over. "Kind of like how you don't say anything much for the same
reason?"

Mike chortled.. "Yeah. These last past few weeks have sure stretched
my comfort zone. I didn't think I could handle it."

Hank stretched and retrieved his morning cup of coffee from off
the nearby fuel pump. "You were the only one, according to the 
rest of the guys. And I'm not talking about Conrad here."

"Really?"

"Yeah. They told me what you did. How fast you took over the day
I blacked out. 'Never hesitated' I believe was the phrase used in
the chief's report after he talked to Marco and Chet about it."

"Now why would he do that?"

"Why do you think? Hank grinned. 

Mike immediately turned red. "Oh, not another one. I hate getting those."

"No, you don't. You love em. This'll be your eleventh commendation
since you signed onto my station. Congratulations early.." he said,
taking Mike's hand into a handshake.

Mike shuffled a shoe's toe in the sand next to the flagpole, not
saying anything after releasing his grip.

Stanley regarded Stoker for a long time, grateful to have such
a good man by his side. "Feels good, doesn't it?"

"What does?" Mike said, checking to make sure the tied off
ropes stayed tied on the pole.

"The helper's high. What every firefighter feels when he saves a life."

Mike finally regained his smile. "Or a home."

"Or a few gallons of water during drought restrictions.." Hank grimaced, 
chuckling.

Mike groaned in remembrance. "What a crazy set of ordinances. 
Limiting how much hydrant flow we use to follow up on a knocked 
down fire."

Hank fell into easy agreement, folding his arms together as he
leaned companionably against the flagpole. "Isn't it though? What 
other ordinances did you see in the book that you didn't like so much?"

"The evaluation procedures. They're so.. regimental. I mean, 
as a station, we're supposed to be friends, right? And can talk 
about anything because we work together, eat together, we bunk in 
the same room.." he ticked off on his fingers. 

Hank pursed his lips, taking a swallow from his ceramic mug thoughtfully.
"That's the ideal picture, yes."

"Well, then why did I feel so alone and left out having cap's rank?"

"It's lonely at the top?" Stanley shrugged. 

"It doesn't have to be."

Hank frowned. "It does for me. If I didn't gruff, no one would respect me."

"Now that isn't true at all.." Mike said in all honesty. "Have you tried it?"

"Once." Stanley admitted, biting a nail subconsciously.

"What happened?"

"I got beer cases mysteriously appearing in my locker with requests
for days off, with ribbons tied around em."

Stoker laughed. "Nice! What ever was wrong with that? They were gifts, 
you know. Probably bonding offerings."

"I don't drink." Hank gruffed. "And next time the chief puts you in 
my shoes, let me leave you with a little advice about handling the men
so you don't have to do any chores yourself.." and he leaned in and
whispered something in Mike's ear.

Stoker's mouth dropped open. "That's it?"

"That's it."

"I can't wait to give it try. So when's the next time you think you're gonna
get laid up?"

"Never." Stanley snorted. "It's kind of embarrassing having to be rescued
by your own men for no good reason."

"Cap, you were hurt.." Mike said.

"From what? A little arm lock on a dashboard and a bed failure during--"

"Ah! You don't have to say how again." Mike said, holding up a hand.

"Anyway, I appreciate what you did for me. I would have been 
showered, powdered, primped in my dress uniform, and being pulled 
by a flag covered horse drawn carriage if you hadn't've been right there
to end that particular sad possibility. Well, ..." Cap scratched his head.
"What I'm really trying to say is--" he said, embarrassed.

"You're welcome." Stoker said, "It's what firefighters do for living, so
just count your lucky stars." Mike said, eyeing up the line of sight the flags
that they had raised together, now rippling in the morning's light. 

"I am.. All fifty one of them." he said, pointing his finger at Mike for
the last one.

Mike was good enough to blush at the compliment.

Hank took him by the shoulders, gratefully. "Come on, let's go inside
and grab some breakfast."

"Is it any good?"

"I'm cooking today."

"Then let's go. I'm starved. I always am after raising a flag or two." Mike 
said, walking with him.

"Ah,..." said Cap in discovery."So that's why you do this everyday."

"Yep." Mike beamed, all trace of his shyness gone.

"Neat trick. All this fresh air."

"Figuratively speaking." Miked scoffed, referring to California's smog. 

Cap was undiscouraged. "All right if I join you from now on?"

"I wouldn't have it any other way, Cap." Stoker said, his eyes sparkling
in tears of happiness.


FIN

Episode 49, Season 6
The Helper's High
Emergency Theater Live

---------------------------------------------------

Photo:   Cap smiling with Stoker.

Photo:   Stoker putting up the flag in the morning.

Photo:   A purply orange sunset.

Animation:  A flag blowing in a sunny breeze.

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

End Credits --  Episode Forty Nine (Sixth Season)
                                      
                                           §§   The Helper's High   §§

                        :)    This episode is dedicated to Paramedic/FF Ryan Shreve..

In 2003 El Dorado County lost one of its own paramedics and world-class 
wakeboarder, Ryan Shreve, to unrecognized multiple concussion injuries, also 
known as Second Impact Syndrome. As a tribute to Ryan, the EMS Agency 
has worked closely with his family to produce an information brochure on 
Second Impact Syndrome that can be handed to any patient who has 
suffered a concussive head injury. This brochure informs a patient about 
the dangers of Second Impact Syndrome and recommends not 
engaging in athletic activity until all symptoms (headache, dizziness, 
nausea, etc.) have been resolved for at least one week.  

Often a concussion may go unrecognized or 
untreated in high school athletes. A second injury, even from 
a minor blow to the head or twisting of the torso, may become 
lethal.  

http://www.co.el-dorado.ca.us/EMS/pdf/Second_Impact_Syndrome_Brochure.pdf        :)    

  
EmergencytheaterTaleinOneFile.txt

Our current episode as it happens with descriptions of images sent. Uploaded daily.

 
The Story Unfolds...

Season Six, Episode Fifty
 
 §§    The Other Side   §§
 
Debut Launch: December 16th, 2007. 
 
**************************************************
From: Mark Panitz <mrpanitz@yahoo.com>
Date: Fri Dec 14, 2007 6:42 pm 
Subject: False Alarms
 
It was a cold winter day. Roy and Gage were
griping about how cold it was for the week.

Then the tones rang on.

Station 51 responded to a traffic accident 
at 5th and Alameda that had persons reported 
as being trapped with fire involved.

The boys ran to the rigs and soon rolled out of the ramp.

--------------------------------------------------------------------

It took them about five minutes to reach the scene,
but there was nothing there! Nobody was hanging around, 
except for some kids on the corner. And they looked bored.

Captain Stanley got on the radio.
"L.A. , Station 51 at scene. Uh, this an false alarm."

##10-4, 51.## L.A. copied.

"Station 51, returning to quarters." Cap returned back.


Gage was fuming. "Roy. This makes it the fifth false alarm 
today!"

Roy agreed. "Yes, these false alarms cost us plenty.
Let’s just hope we don’t have a false alarm in our territory 
when something else for real happens on the other side."

Johnny was too worked up to comment.

------------------------------------------------
Later on, after lunch, Roy and Gage ran out to Rampart
to pick up more medical supplies.

They found Kel and Dixie taking a coffee break.

Then as soon as they tried to get some coffee, the tones 
rang out again.

##Squad 51, Engine 7, Trucks 8 and 10. Respond to 
a structure fire. 3700 West Sunset Blvd. Cross street,
Malibu.##

“Responding from Rampart." replied Roy on the HT.

##10-4, Squad 51.## L.A. replied.

Roy and Gage jogged to their squad with an apologetic
shrug to McCall and Brackett and they rolled out code R.

------------------------------------------------------------------------------
It was rush hour and people were in a hurry.

The squad approached an intersection with lights
and siren on full blast.

They approached it slowly as Roy checked,
they had green lights as they went though it.

A car driven by person on a newly wired in car phone 
rolled right through the red. The car hit the squad just 
beyond the right door where they kept the biophone.

Grunting in reaction, DeSoto and Gage knew that their own
impact hadn’t been that severe. Roy was able to pull the squad 
to the curb. "L.A ., Squad 51. We've just been involved in a minor 
T.A. at Vermont and 120th. Uh,..we are checking on the other 
vehicle right now." 

##L.A. Squad 51. Advise of victim status.##

Gage and Roy went to check on the other person in the
car. It was a woman who was very apologetic.
"I’m sorry I hit you guys. I’m not hurt. I’m just sorry I didn’t 
even hear your siren or see the traffic light.  I was yelling at 
my boyfriend on my new phone here. Like it?" 

Then over the radio channel, they all heard.
##L.A. This is Engine 8. Our structure fire report is
unfounded.  There is no fire at this location.## came a captain's
voice.

L.A. responded back. ##10-4, Engine 8. All units responding 
to the structure fire with engine 8; return to quarters.##

Now even Roy was fuming. "What? ANOTHER FALSE ALARM?"
he yelled in annoyance from where he was leaning on the woman's 
car door.

Gage was not laughing. "What are we going do about this?" he 
said of their winning day so far.  

DeSoto sighed tiredly when he knew his partner didn't mean  
the squad's newly damaged chassis at all.

----------------------------------------------------------------------

Photos: None.

**************************************************
From: patti keiper <pattik1@hotmail.com>
Date:  Sun Jan 20, 2008 5:30 pm 
Subject: Any Penny Annie Port In The Storm

 
Roy moved back to the woman driver's side. As he peeked
in, a chamois sweatered arm snaked out of the window and
waved something in front of his eyes. It was an insurance 
card elegantly perched between long, red polished fingernails.

She said. "Don't you need to see this, Mr. Fireman?" Then,
just as fast, she started yelling into her expensive car phone.
"I heard you, Marvin. THEY were the ones speeding, not me."
she declared, twisting the phone cord sticking out of the dash
board nervously.

Gage made a face where he was standing on the sidewalk. "We
were answering a rescue call, lady! You know, with our red flashing
lights and everything? Didn't you see that your stoplight was on?
We had the right of way and we were going the posted speed limit."

The primped up driver looked at him askance. She snapped her gum
and batted long eye lashes at Johnny after pulling away the phone
receiver from her ear to get away from her irate boyfriend's voice.
"Marvin says I should talk to my lawyer before I talk to you."

Roy's mouth flopped open, but for a different reason. "Johnny!" he
shouted, pointing to a thick trickle of smoke snaking out from under
the hood of the woman's grill cracked car. Gage startled. Then he
stuffed himself into the sedan long enough to pull the hood's release
handle.

The woman smothered an angry reaction. "Hey! What do you think
you're--"

Johnny and Roy ignored her and together, they hastily yanked up
the hood. Roy hurried to the back of the squad and snatched up
a fire extinguisher. 

Gage started yelling. "Ma'am! Get out of the car! It's on fire here. 
It could be near a fuel line!" he hollered from behind the hood.

"What?" she asked, still glued to the phone and her furious boyfriend's
tirade. "Marvin! Marv-- I've got to go, love. The cute one says the motor's
caught a bit and I don't mean it's idling. But it looks like it's under control.
It's nice to see our tax payer dollars at work. These fire guys are really 
fast."

Annoyed, Johnny ripped out the wires connecting the battery to the
rest of the car's electrical system as DeSoto coated the engine
block with a thick cloud of repellent powder. 

The lady was obvious to what they were doing. "Marv? Marv? Are you
still there?" she peeped.

Johnny finally got fed up with her, opened the car door, grabbed 
a hold of the woman's arm, and flung her unceremoniously over his 
shoulder to get her to the safety of the nearby sidewalk.

The woman screeched in startled surprise and she finally dropped
the phone before the cord, stretching out after them, reached the
snapping point.

Roy's muffled voice finally gave a verdict. "That was the oil pan.
There was some bare wiring taped up next to it in some kind of--"
his comment trailed off when the lady Gage had set down on the 
lawn started laughing in embarrassment. She plunked down onto
the grass onto her butt. "That was... M-Marvin.." she snorted, 
chortling. "I told him to follow the instructions for installing that new
phone. But did he read them?" she shrugged, out of control with
her amusement. "No." she mouthed.

Gage just raised his eyebrows and set his hands onto his hips.
He turned his head guardedly off her towards Roy. "Do we need
the engine at all?" he glared, still irritated.

"Nah. There's no gas smell. What you're seeing dripping now is
all from the radiator." he sighed, brushing white powder off the 
front of his shirt absently.

Right about then, Vince Howard arrived and headed straight for
the woman sitting on the lawn after he had parked a safe distance
away from the accident scene. "Is she hurt?"

"Not a bit. She's all right." Roy said, shaking his head.

Gage mumbled under his breath over the woman's still hysterical
laughter. "Physically, anyway. Don't know about the rest if you know
what I mean." he hissed, smiling professionally with closed teeth.

Vince relaxed, amused. "What happened?"

Both paramedics opened their mouths to say something, but then
thought better of it. At a loss for just how to begin, they just shrugged,
indicating the giggling lady driver at their feet dramatically with a sarcastic
gesture. 

The lady wiped away laughing tears, imagining what her bumbling non
mechanic boyfriend's reaction going on was right then over the dead car 
phoneline. She finally looked up. "I think I'm the best one to explain
that. Come here.." she burbled, tugging on Vince's pants leg from
where she still sat Indian style.

Sighing, Vince squatted down onto his toes at her side to start taking
down her statement.

Roy and Johnny circled the hapless telephone wired car once more 
to be sure their handiwork was going to last.  Afterwards, they took
a seat on top of the squad's hood to await Vince's damage to vehicle
photo taking. 

Gage nudged Roy.

"What?" DeSoto asked, still upset that they still had to deal with their
current annoyance.

"Flip ya for being the one to get out of telling Charlie about our
scratched up fender.."

DeSoto didn't move or even blink. "I outrank ya. Have fun." he
said, crossing his arms over his elbows, still not looking at his
partner.

"But.."

Roy grinned just then and reached into the squad cab for the 
radio mic by feel alone. He thumbed the toggle. " L.A. Our 
minor MVA is a non-injury. However, a citizen tow is definitely
gonna be needed." he reported. 

##Squad 51.##

At that, the woman on the ground fell into another bout of
guffaws, completely lost in absolute abandon.

Smiling and getting infected by her sense of the ridiculous,
DeSoto passed off the radio mic to Johnny, so he could follow
the next bit of protocol.

"Oh, wonderful." Johnny swallowed miserably. "I really hate
doing this." he said, referring to contacting the vehicle shop
for an emergency stop checkup.

Roy conmiserated. "Don't we all?"

-----------------------------------------------------------------------

The gang was still actively hiding from Charlie's loud
streaming colorful vocabulary as he popped out the squad's
dented side and reapplied fresh touch up paint after his
meticulous brand of sanding.

Even Boot was buried underneath the couch, completely
out of sight from all eyes.

Cap leaned into his men where they were hungrily digging 
into lunch. "You're positive it's not your fault?" he asked
Roy and Johnny timidly.

"Absolutely."
   "Without a doubt." they both said empathetically.

Hank smiled weakily. "Okay, uh.. I guess I'll go try and shut him
up with a bowl of chowder. Think it'll work?"

Gage grinned. "It worked with calming Joe Early down when he
was so restless recovering at Rampart following his heart attack."

Stanley was unappeased. "Yeah, well, Charlie hasn't HAD one yet."

Marco sniggered. "Trust your own cooking, Cap. There isn't a fireman
alive who doesn't feel better after filling his stomach on your soup. 
Isn't that right, guys?"

"Yeah,..yeah.." nodded Gage.
"Sure is." said Stoker.
"That's true." said Chet.

Cap sighed and picked up the snack tray he had prepared for the
grumpy mechanic. "Okay, here I go. Uh,.. you guys have prior 
permission to treat me for burns if he lobs this right back at me out 
there." said Cap as he headed for the vehicle bay with their peace 
offering. He slowly left the kitchen.

Expectantly, the gang scrambled to place ears against the door and 
window to eavesdrop on the outcome.

It was one that came fast and surprised them all. 

---------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Joe Early sighed when two charts smacked down onto the counter
top next to where he sat on the stool in front of the reception desk 
Dixie was manning in Emergency. "That's it?" he asked her.

"That's it, sadly enough." she remarked, bored, eyeing up the empty 
and silent waiting room. "And those only need additional orders from 
you on followup antibiotics. Father and daughter were both admitted 
to the floor an hour ago."

Early smiled, rubbing the rings on his fingers. "Okay, if I stretch it, and 
write real slow, I'll be preoccupied for a full half minute." he said with 
exaggerated enthusiasm.

Dixie chortled softly. "You know, I used to dream about having a 
day as quiet as this one once. And now that I've got it, I keep wishing 
a catastrophe or two would strike out there so I won't fall asleep on you."

Early took sympathy on his head nurse and slid his untouched stars 
and stripes bicentennial mug of hot coffee over to her."You all is a 
grand total of two doctors on the floor. Me and--"

"Dr. Morton, I know." she sighed. "At least one of us three has found 
something productive to do around here. He's in Treatment One."

Joe joined her in a like slump on his stool as he finished updating his 
meager pile of patient charts. "Oh, yeah? What's he doing?" he asked 
curiously, admiring the neat rows of narcotics Dixie had already 
alphabetized inside the metal cabinet behind her. They were precisely 
spaced by user date. 

"He's testing all the defibrillators we have." she grinned secretly.

Joe blinked. "We only have four. That'll take only about as many 
minutes to do."

Dixie clarified, her smile getting bigger. "That's all of them, Joe. All of 
them everywhere. Hospital wide."

Joe's eyes lit up with new appreciation. "Ooooo, what a mystery to solve. 
I don't think ANYone really knows how many crash carts we actually have 
floating around. Does he have a locations diagram?"

"Nope." Dixie chuckled.

"Even better. I...think I'll go join him." Early said, polishing off
his newly poured cup of coffee quickly.

Dixie immediately fluttered. "Oh, no... Joe.. Don't leave me down here 
all by myself. I'll go stir crazy." she moaned.

Early waved goodbye as he wandered down the hall towards Treatment 
One. "You're a big girl. I think you can handle it." he winked, abandoning 
her lonely work station.

"Rats.." McCall sighed, melting back onto her chin and elbows."So I'm 
stuck holding the fort again." Longingly, Dixie eyed up the quiescent 
paramedic base station, using every optimistic and encouraging thought 
in her arsenal, to will the buzzer light into life. ::Please, please, please...:: 
she thought.

But it went on ignoring her in stony silence.

---------------------------------------------------------------------------
Doctor Morton was efficient. He was pushing around just the head 
and chest of a resuscitation manikin, parked on a wheel chair fitted 
with thick rubber wheels. He had it hooked up to an EKG simulator 
control box that could mimick shockable rhythms.   To his credit, he 
showed no reaction when Joe arrived to bug the h*ll out of him. 
Mike was a rock when he realized that his senior preceptor was 
going to glom onto the chore that he thought would be his all night 
by the virtue of solo discovery. He didn't even look up or offer any 
resistance as he ran the unit through its paces. "Room enough for 
two, Joe. Which do you want to be? Paddle man or code master."

Early looked properly meek. "Can I have the box?"

"It's all yours.." said Morton, handing it over. "Try a junctional. Mac 
said the sync was touchy at beats that were forty or lower.." 

Joe raised his eyebrows, thinking. ::An orderly bored enough to offer 
machine maintenance concerns? Wow. Guess this patient drought's 
lasting longer than I expected.:: he mused. He spoke aloud. "Touchy 
as in how? As in a defib that won't synchronize capture? Or as in not 
maintaining regularity afterwards in a pace?"

"The latter. Off by five beats over a period of one minute intervals. It's 
fluctuating high and low counts inside of that range." Morton replied.

"Did he leave an extra strip from the last code run off the machine?"

"Yep. Take a look." Mike said, handing off the roll he had stuffed into  
his white tunic's front pocket. "See the bad spikes? I marked them at
the full second ticks. The off-cycle lasts about a minute every four into
this man's difficulty. The sync fired in at diapause instead of during AV 
nodal depolarization."

"Hmm, sounds like a sensor issue." Joe said, setting a slow weak beat 
of thirty on the controller. "Coordinating like that would double the intended
pulse rate." he theorized.

"It did." said Mike empathetically. "Sync on 70 jumped to 140 in actual, 
scaring the cardiac team into thinking they were on the verge of an 
allergic reaction to the atropine."

"Do you have a bioengineer on the way to recalibrate this?"

"I called the moment I ran into Mac and got word in the cafeteria at lunch."

Joe frowned and studied his watch. "Mike, that was a full two hours ago.
Where is he?" he asked, growing a bit angry at the danger the malfunction
could have had in that time period.

Morton stayed Early's hand on the phone that he was about to use to start
rattling some cages. "Uh, Joe. Our man's not at fault for a no-show. 
Remember the name Ashby?" he asked.

Joe nodded. "Yeah, that's--"

"A recent E.R. admit of yours. A t.i.a."

Joe sighed. "I thought he looked familiar."

Mike grinned, and took the phone receiver out of Joe's hand.
"How's he doing?" he asked as he hung it up back on the wall.

Joe nodded satisfactorily. "He's responded to medications one 
hundred percent. " Joe answered. "He should be back on his feet 
in week."

"Oh. Uh, that's great." Morton replied, trying to muster up enthusiasm.
"So...what do we do about our datascope's little sync problem here?" 
he wondered, running the malfunction algorithm again to re-pinpoint 
the problem more clearly.

Joe thought hard. "Uh, park a peds cart in here with a tag to direct the 
next code team to its still good sync button unit."

"And how do we mark this one?" Mike said, pointing to the flashing
yellow toggle not working in front of them.

Joe shrugged and grabbed a set of Magill forceps from the cart's
top metal utensil drawer. Using them deftly, he clamped down and
yanked off the button's plastic square cover with a pop that left just
the toggleless hole behind.

Smiling, Morton covered up the missing button's space with a smiley
face bandaid from his pocket. He followed up with a note scrawled
onto a spare toe tag telling users to switch to the peds sync on
the adjacent cart.

Joe picked up the phone by their heads. "Hello, operator? This
is Dr. Early. Have an orderly locate a spare pediatrics defib. We need
to have it in Treatment One on standby in less than five minutes." he
told her, thinking about liability. "Thanks." Early said, and then he hung
up. He rubbed his hands together happily. "One cart down with an 
unknown number to go..." he said cheerily.

Morton's eyes matched the gleam in Joe's eager ones. "Let's go find
the rest, shall we?"

Bundling up the testing leads back onto the electronic dummy's
wheelchair, Joe spoke. "Care to wager how many we'll eventually 
find?" Early challenged.

"What's the prize?"

"A weekend off. The loser works for the winner." Joe anted.

"You're on." Morton accepted playfully.

"Closest guess wins." Joe chuckled, getting excited.

"Sounds good." said Mike as they exited the room.

-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
Kel Brackett was sleeping soundly on a gurney in the resident's
bunk. He had reached a break in this surgical schedule's rotation
and was catching up on his debt of days worth of poor sleep.

*Knock. Knock. Knock. Knock.*

Brackett groaned, jerking awake as his next conscious thought
was to check the newly commissioned pager that he was wearing
on his pocket. "Who is it?" he mumbled, wiping moisture off his
sagging mouth. Sitting up, he eyeballed himself accidently in
the mirror hanging on the wall and startled with a cry. ::That's me?::
he thought in horror. ::My G*d. I look dead!:: he quailed sleepily, 
still emotionally vulnerable with fatigue.

The person outside finally spoke. "Dr. Brackett? It's Nurse Sharon.
Sorry to bother you, doctor, but I think I've found out something
kind of important for all of us to know."

"Oh?" asked Kel, yanking open the door. He winced at the swathe
of light that immediately blinded him from the brightly lit hallway
just beyond. "Owww!" he complained. But Brackett forced himself to
smile at the timid doe-eyed young woman mincing in front of him.
"What's the problem?" he asked in a gentler voice.

Sharon wrung her hands in her new light blue nurse's smock and
just stammered like she used to do during her nursing clinical days
the year before. "Well, I, uh.. I think I might--" she broke off. "I mean
I could be in a lot of trouble because.."

Brackett lost all patience, feeling every second of the grogginess
pounding down in his head that he had only just begun to dispel.
"Well, spit it out, Sharon! I haven't got all day." he snapped.

Sharon shrank back visibly, going pale. "I.. I have reason to believe--
I.. I might be..."

"Well, what?!" Kel roared.

"...sick..." she whispered. And then a bead of cold sweat ran down 
out of her unusually sweat plastered dark bangs. With that, she collapsed,
right into Dr. Brackett's sheet wrinkled arms that were still poking out of
equally wrinkled surgical scrubs.

Kel caught her and hefted her suddenly limp form up automatically in
complete, still sleepy surprise. Then the doctor in him awakened
and he began shouting for help from any and all who could hear him.

Setting Sharon down onto a bare sheeted bed still lining the hallway, he
bent close, checking on her ability to breathe through a guarded head
hold. It was ragged. He looked up as a full response team from the nurse's
station thundered up with a portable oxygen tank. "Let's get her into the
nearest empty room, stat!" he ordered. "She's not reacting to me."
he said, letting go of the skin he had just pinched on the side of her neck.

Nurse Carol finished fitting her still, young coworker with a high flow oxygen
mask. She passed off an oral airway to Kel for later use that was the right 
size. "What's wrong with her, doctor?"

"I don't know yet. Could be anything. Go ahead and page either Joe or Mike
up here. I'm gonna need some fast help with her initial exam." Dr. Brackett
kept a grip on Sharon's carotid. It weakened. "And bring a crash cart! She's
slipping down a bit." 

"Right away, doctor." Carol replied, worried.

She hurried away while the others rushed to obey Kel's quietly given, but
necessarily sharp orders. 

------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Two sets of footfalls echoing in the entryway leading to the kitchen from
the garage, immediately alerted the gang to scatter instantly.

Charlie was backing slowly through the swinging door, rear first, while
he protected the deep steaming bowl and spoon he was carrying while
he ate. "Wonderful suggestion, Hank. This is terrific chow. I could use
the break right about n--" he broke off when he spotted the others posed
in fake stances of preoccupation around the same wall as the door he
had entered through. "What are yous lookin' at?" Charlie the county 
mechanic demanded. He still had a dot of fresh red paint smeared on his
forehead just beneath his salt and peppered wavy hairline. 

Nobody laughed. But everybody stammered excuses and reasons 
other than the one they were being accused of to explain themselves. 

Chet finally led the crucial distraction. He stepped forward, redirecting
Charlie's usual misconstrued ire. "Say, Charlie.." Kelly began.

"What?!" the taxi driver voiced fireman barked.

"Uh, can I bend your ear a little bit?"

Charlie eyed him up suspiciously. "You mean like how that lame brained 
dame bent in Squad 51's rear fender?" he asked without a smile. Not 
one mouth uttered a single peep, until Charlie suddenly started 
laughing loudly at his own poor joking reference. "You can all relax, 
because I can, now. The ol' girl's good as new." he shared good 
naturedly as he flipped a kitchen chair around Johnny Gage style to 
sit at the table so he could finish his gift of steaming soup. "Gage, 
DeSoto.. Next time, feel free to ram a bush before you let the next
person ram you, okay.. These vehicles..."

"... are your babies, we know.." said Johnny dutifully.

"are my babies." said Charlie, still lecturing. "So, Chet. Ah,.. 
What is it that you wanna chat about?"

Kelly stood up from where he was slumped against the back of Cap's
lounge chair. "I want your opinion on a new tool I think no engine should
be without." he said mysteriously.

Marco rolled his eyes. "Uh oh. It's that sales pitch again, everybody. 
Look out for your pocketbooks!"

Chet scoffed. "Oooo, very funny." he said without his usual sting. He 
dismissed Lopez's and the others' reactions immediately. "Charlie, 
enjoy your lunch. I'll be right back with it."

Then Chet and Boot made a beeline for the yard. When they returned, 
they reappeared with something that they all thought was a shovel at 
first, and a spare hose bundle from the store locker by the drying 
tower. He unceremoniously noodled the hose out into a messy pile 
on the tiled floor.

"Kelly, what--?" Cap started.

"This'll only take a moment, Cap." Chet interrupted. "I promise I'll put 
everything away once I'm done."

Of everyone, only Boot and Charlie were truly intrigued. Especially 
the mechanic. He abandoned his bowl in seconds, letting his spoon 
fall with a splash. "Oh, very good." he trickled, taking the homemade 
waist high tool from Kelly's hand. "Is this what I think it is?" he asked 
Chet, shaking with excitement.

The gang, was clueless. They all leaned forward, peering with mixed 
reactions at the odd business end of the crafted tool that had a normal 
shovel handle on top.

Chet proudly showed it off. "Feel free to try it out, Charlie. She's all 
yours.." And he held it out dramatically, very pleased with himself and 
his captured audience.

Gage shook his head in incomprehension. "What is it?" he asked.

Charlie placed a matter of fact hand on his fire uniformed hip. "What 
does it look like, Johnny boy? This is a work of sheer genius!" he 
sighed, utterly genuine.

Roy asked the next question that had crossed everybody's mind. 
"Yeah, I guess." he muttered, scratching his head. "But what exactly, 
does it do?"

Charlie glanced towards Chet knowingly, pointing askance at DeSoto. 
"Is he for real?"

Kelly milked his new fan club's loyalty to the max. "Yep. And yeah, I 
gotta work with him every day. This, my fine Irish friend, is a hose 
hook." he told Roy simply.

"A whaa?" sputtered Gage.

Charlie turned to Mike Stoker, the station's quiet engineer. "Don't you
get tired of getting knocked in the shins by charging and bucking hoses 
while you're working the panel all the time?" he pegged.

Stoker was frank. "Sometimes. Usually, I just stand on them when that 
happens."

Chet pressed his ante'. "Well, how about just....moving them out of 
your way.." he said, demonstrating with his new tool's single gaffer's 
hook at the end of its post and handle. He neatly spaghetti looped 
several coils around a seated, puzzled Boot parked in the middle of 
a tangled pile of limp hose, like a serpent handler using a snake hook.

Now the light bulbs flashed in the others' heads, but no one became 
as tickled as Charlie. "Chet." he said, reaching into his back pocket 
around the greasy rag he always carried there. "I want in. And I've 
got some investment pals I trust with my life savings. Anything up 
front financially you need to start promoting this hook thing throughout 
the department, just give me a call." he winked, happy that someone 
was finally showing themselves to be even slightly mechanically 
inclined. He handed Kelly a white dog eared business card that was 
heavily stained with oily fingerprints.

"Thanks, Charlie." said Chet. "I think I will. And if you come with me, 
I'll show you how it was made. I've already started welding a second 
one out in the back yard." 

The two curly haired firemen left then, arms over shoulders to 
discuss their up and coming contest bid to L.A.Co. Headquarters, 
leaving the others behind to pick up their slack jaws that were still 
hanging down in utter disbelief.

Then the tones went off...

------------------------------------------------------

Photo:  Charlie the mechanic by his truck.

Photo:  Charlie and Cap eating.

Photo:  Charlie, Cap, Roy and Johnny talking.

Photo:  Johnny by the raised hood of a car.

Photo:  Roy and Johnny caring for a grass seated woman.

Photo:  A fireman holding a newly invented hosepick.

Photo:  Chet and Roy in close conference.

Photo:  Dixie and Joe taking notes at Rampart.

Photo:  Joe and Morton in scrubs, drinking coffee.

Photo:  A crashcart in closeup.

Photo:  Nurse Sharon talking in a hallway.

Photo:  Brackett standing by a crashcart.

Photo:  Kel and Sharon talking by a door.

Photo:  Morton and Brackett leaning in at
             you, concerned looks.
  
*************************************************
From: "Erin James"  <emjsixflags01@yahoo.com>
Subject: Flying Off The 405
Date: Thu Jan 24, 2008 4:01 pm 


A-shift bolted for the bay along with Charlie. Suddenly a voice, unknown 
to the guys, broke through the speaker. ##Station 51.  Respond to a reported
traffic collision on the 405 just east of exit 10. That's the 405 just 
east of exit 10. Time out : 1400.## Charlie watched as the guys sprinted for
the trucks sans Hank, who headed for the radio. 

Hank wrote the information down and quickly picked up the radio, "Station 51,
10-4. KMG 365." He spun and handed the slip to Roy. Then sprinted for the 
engine.

Within forty-five seconds the trucks were gone, with lights and sirens blaring. 

Stunned, Charlie watched as the station emptied. Then he thought, ::I have never 
seen these guys in action and they are supposed to be some of the best in the 
county, let me go watch. Maybe I can help.:: Charlie bolted out the back door of 
the station for his red departmental truck.

Since the accident wasn't very far from the station, A-shift arrived on scene in
two minutes flat. What greeted them was a bit of a surprise. It looked like a 
minor fender bender between two cars with a third having stopped to help. 

---------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Mike and Roy brought the engine to a stop as close as they safely could, 
to the fender bender, and both trucks emptied. Having heard the 
approaching help, a man crawled out of one of the banged up cars. 
Everybody was shocked to see it was their district's station dispatcher,
Sam Lanier. Sam yelled, "Guys, we have one pinned and two uninjured. 
I stopped to help out."

A-shift nodded in acknowledgement. Hank ordered, "Chet, Marco, check 
both cars for any fire hazards. Roy, Johnny, help Sam here. Yell if you need 
anything."

A chorus of "Right, Cap"'s were heard as the guys got to work. As they 
pulled their gear out, Johnny commented, "People are driving like maniacs 
today."

"I know what you mean, Junior." said DeSoto.

Suddenly Mike yelled, "WATCH OUT!!!!! Sam, MOVE NOWWWWW!!!"

Startled, everybody heeded Mike's words and quickly moved to the side of 
the road. 

They watched in horror as a speeding pickup lost control in the center, hit the 
ditch, flipped four times in the air and then came to rest on its roof on the other
side of the guardrail. 

Charlie pulled up behind the engine just as the truck finished its last flip and 
thought, ::Holy C--:: Then he rushed out, running along the grassy margin 
toward the others.

Hank looked up, "Stoker!?" he shouted, starting a head count.

Stunned at what he had seen, Mike replied, "I'm okay."

"Lopez, Kelly?!" Hank continued.

Both yelled, "Good to go."

"Gage, Desoto?!"

Both yelled back, "We're fine."

Hank yelled, "Sam!"

Sam yelled back, "I'm okay!"

Once he was satisfied the crew and Sam were accounted for, Hank got 
back to the wreck. ::It's going to be an ugly job. This is a twisted mess!::
Cap was the ranking person on scene so he was now the Incident 
Commander. 

Charlie ran up, "Hank, can I help?"

Hank replied, "Go block traffic, I don't care how. Just do it!"

"You got it."

Charlie took off. 

Hank barked, "Roy, go check on Sam and see what he has. Chet, go with him. 
Johnny, Marco, check on the other driver over there. I'll get us more hands out 
here on the fly."

The group broke up, HT's in hand. Hank picked up his HT, "L.A., Station 51."

##Go ahead, 51.##

"L.A., respond a battalion chief for incident command along with an additional 
squad, three ambulances, and the police for traffic control code 3 to our location. 
We have just had another vehicle involved in a new rollover accident."

##10-4, 51.## 

Hank jammed the HT back into his pocket. A quick look back at Mike, revealed the 
engineer was ready and waiting for anything that might happen as a safety lookout.

Just beyond Mike, Charlie had pulled his fire department mechanic's 
truck sideways across the road to block traffic. 

---------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
 
Roy and Chet sprinted for Sam and Chet quickly started to check the 
scene for fire danger.

Sam said, "Hey, Roy."

"Hey, Sam. I was wondering where you were this morning." DeSoto said quickly.

"Ran home to get some extra clothes because we're down two dispatchers. 
I was on my way back when the wreck happened. This is Nick. His leg is pinned 
under the dash. He's been conscious the whole time. Everybody in the second 
car is okay. They're just waiting on the cops for a report." Lanier shared.

Roy nodded. "I'll have Cap look in on those guys myself in a minute just to be 
sure. Okay, thanks Sam. Hey, can you..."

"What do you need?" Sam anticipated.

"Handle the biophone for us?" DeSoto asked, glad Sam had
that skill to the max.

"You got it."

"Thanks."

Sam crawled out and Roy replaced him in the car. "Hi Nick, my name is Roy."

Nick grimaced, "Hi Roy. C-Can you get me out of here?"

"We're going to work on that now. Can you feel your legs?"

"Yeah." Nick gasped in pain and then said, "The one that's stuck is broke but 
I can still feel it."

"All right hang in there. Soon some firemen and I we'll get you out of here."

Chet peeked back in, "We're clear, Roy. What else do you need?"

"The jaws, splints, 02, blankets, drug box and a BP kit. Sam is going to do our 
relay with Rampart."

"Allll rright.." Kelly celebrated, recognizing Sam happily. Sam and Chet took 
off to get the requested supplies. They were back in less than a minute. 

Roy said, "Give me the oxygen and a blanket first to cover Nick with."

Chet handed Roy the requested items. 

In pain, Nick asked, "Wha-what's all that stuff for?" he said, seeing an air 
pump and metal bars and straps.

Roy responded as he adjusted the mask's flow rate, "The oxygen's to help you 
calm your breathing down. The blanket is to cover you so no glass or anything 
gets on you while we're getting ya outta here and this contraption is an air splint 
with a supporting exterior frame."  

Nick nodded, in too much pain to speak. Roy made quick work of the mask and 
blanket and then crawled out to help Chet with the jaws once he was sure there 
was still a good enough pulse maintaining in Nick's effected leg. 

Sam set up the biophone, ready to do whatever else, too, that was needed 
to help. 

With a little nudge from the jaws, Roy and Chet were able to pry the front 
of Nick's car dash off of his legs. Nick screamed at first, as the pressure 
was released. 

As soon as the car dash was pulled away Roy jumped back in. "Chet, give me 
that lower leg air splint. Sam, lay a second blanket down on the ground." 
Sam accomplished that and Chet handed Roy the requested splint. 

Nick had passed out from the pain and Kelly immediately took over Nick's 
head to guard and open his airway.

Before Roy splinted his leg he took a quick set of vitals and muttered, 
"Lowish but all things considering, not too bad. BP's already rebounding."

With practiced hands, Roy quickly and carefully splinted Nick's leg. Ever so gently, 
they turned Nick and brought him out of the car once a C- collar and short board 
had been applied. Chet helped him lay Nick on Sam's blanket on top of a 
long board and together, they fully secured his C-spine to both.
 
Roy said, "Chet, watch him closely. If anything at all changes or if
he wakes back up, let me know. Check his tactile vitals again in two minutes 
and radio them to me, too." 

"You got it. But good news. Help's just arrived. Squad 45, and three ambulances."

"Sweet. I'll have 45's take this guy then." he said as he watched Chet maintain 
a jaw lift on Nick carefully.

The team of paramedics arrived with their gear and knelt.

DeSoto eyed them up.
"Stan, he's a simple fracture left leg. Passed out two ago. Vitals are
120 regular, 99 palp BP and 16 shallow. He's under deep enough to need 
Chet's help here on his head. I haven't done a solid survey yet. I'm going to 
go check on Johnny's rollover."

"Okay." he said. Then he and his partner got to work.

Roy took off across the now quiet stretch of highway at a dead sprint. 
He readied himself for the worst after having seen the Ford flip and tumble 
through the air like it had been shot out of a cannon.  Marco looked up as 
Roy approached. "I was just about to call you. You're not gonna believe 
this one at all. That guy's the luckiest son of a--  If he doesn't go to church, 
he's gonna probably start going now.."

"Why would he?"

"Take a look on the other side of the truck." Lopez grinned.

Roy did and he immediately balked, locking his legs for slip safety.

They were on a tiny cliffside shelf...the only one surrounded by 
a vast yawning void that fell into a gorge a long, long, long way down. 
He said quickly, "Thanks pal. Holy cow."

Marco moved and Roy replaced him inside the driver's door.
Johnny looked up. Roy asked, "What do we have? We're not gonna
slide even though we're kissing the edge like this."

Johnny said with relaxed humor, "Mr. Craig Scott, our stunt man, is 
DUI. He's complaining of neck, back, and leg pain plus he's got a 
possible minor head injury. I want to get a strip on him to check his 
heart after that impact just to clarify his bilateral regular radials. 
He's got a smallish light bruise over the sternum that's getting darker."

"Sounds good." Roy peeked out, "Marco, radio Chet, have him send 
Sam over with the biophone. Then can you go grab out another long 
board, collar, blankets and the drug and splint boxes which are over by 
Chet? Set everything but the scope, collar and board up on the road. 
The ground might be too soft to treat him for long in here without risk of 
rocking." 

"You got it." Marco took off. Roy turned his attention back inside the 
mangled remains of the pickup. 

The drunk asked, "Who's--?"

Johnny introduced Roy, "Craig, this is Roy. The other paramedic I was 
telling you about."

Craig said, "Oh, Hi Roy."

"Hi, Craig." DeSoto said, checking his radial pulse to note what
Johnny had found there.

Marco returned with Sam in tow. Marco leaned in the car. "Good news. 
More help's just arrived. The cops."

Roy and Johnny both let out a sigh of relief. Roy said, "Awesome.  
Have them check out the folks in the first car to be sure they're still 
saying they're not injured."

"You got it." Marco took off once again. 

Roy wrote some notes down for Sam. "Sam, call Rampart and read this 
verbatim."

"No problem." Sam picked up the biophone receiver as Roy crawled 
back into the cab. DeSoto looked around a little closer and realized that 
Craig was not pinned. 

Johnny nodded in agreement and said, "I want to get him boarded and 
out of here before we do any secondary exam." he fretted, turning on 
the EKG monitor that was resting near Craig's side."I don't even want to 
think of what else this truck can do."

"You're not alone in feeling that way. And I think Craig agrees with us 
wholeheartedly now. He's just seen where we're perched." DeSoto joked.

Sam watched in awe as Roy and Johnny carefully prepped Craig to move 
without letting their dizzying position on the height effect them. Craig stank to 
high heaven of booze as they and the other firefighters brought him out of the 
truck.

More hands arrived as Chet and Marco came over with Hank not far behind. 
Johnny had Craig's head so he immediately took command. "Cap, grab the 
scope and the 02. Chet, Marco, let's get our friend up to some real terra 
firma and concrete. I've had enough of this mountain goat act." Three heads 
nodded in acknowledgement. Sam was spellbound as he watched from his 
crouch on the road while the guys quickly brought Craig up with lines attached 
to his long board.

---------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Once the group was back on solid ground, they quickly set Craig down. Roy 
cut open Craig's pants as Chet and Marco readied the needed splints. Craig 
had a myriad of obvious injuries and probably a few hidden ones, too.

Hank radioed for one of the ambulance crews to meet them at their location. 
Johnny focused on keeping Craig's c-spine straight as he manipulated him,
searching for fractures.

The oxygen woke Craig up even more, well enough for him to slur out, 
"Hey man, those're my new pants."

Roy kept his voice even, "Would you rather lose your pants and let us treat 
your injuries? Or keep your pants and risk your health?" 

Craig went dutifully quiet. 

Roy handed Sam more notes which Lanier relayed as Roy readied the 
expected I.V.

Sure enough, a frazzled sounding Mike Morton returned on air, ##51, give 
him an I.V. Normal Saline TKO with these vitals. Splint any obvious breaks, 
maintain spinal precautions and get him in here sooner than now!##

::Geesh.. I wonder what's got him so worked up.:: Gage thought
as he overheard the emotion in Mike's voice.

Roy and Johnny both nodded to Sam to acknowledge the instructions. 

Sam said, "10-4, Rampart. 51 out."

Sam hung up the biophone. Mere minutes later, Craig was packaged and 
ready to go. Just as the guys finished, the ambulance team arrived. Sam 
stayed out of the way as Craig was transferred to the stretcher. Gage got 
into the Mayfair and accepted the oxygen tank and Tetronix monitor from 
Hank. Johnny quickly spoke, "Roy, I'll go in with him. We're getting to be
real buddies now."

Roy grinned, "All right, I'll have the squad there in a bit as soon as we get 
cleaned up. I wanna check with those people in the first car for their
information and refusal of treatment forms."

"..'kay." said Gage. The guys loaded Craig into the ambulance. Once Johnny 
was seated and belted into the captain's chair, Roy slammed the doors 
shut and slapped them twice. 

The ambulance took off.

---------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Stunned, Sam finally spoke. "Wow. That was real work." he told
the firefighters as they sprayed down the pavement for gas and oil leaks
and rewrapped the rappeling ropes they had used.

The guys smiled.

Roy said, "Now you know what life is like on the other side of the mic."

Sam smiled, "It's interesting to say the least."

Lanier decided to stay longer and help Roy and the others clean up. 

Roy asked, "Cap, how's Charlie? I saw him shaking as I was running 
between victims."

"Mike checked on him. He's okay. A bit stunned emotionally from that near 
miss. He left a minute ago. Somebody else needed him across county. 
And get this, he wants us to call him and let him know how everybody is 
doing."

"Really? Wow. Okay." DeSoto gaped.

Sam asked as the crew crossed back over the highway toward the squad, 
"Can you call me, too? I'm on duty the rest of the night and my curiosity on
their outcome'll only grow."

Roy smiled, "You bet." Roy sobered, "Sam, thank you for your help. We 
definitely needed it. You haven't forgotten any of your firefighter training."

Sam blushed slightly as Roy loaded the gear back into the squad. Chet 
had broke away to take care of the abandoned jaws. 

Sam said, "You're welcome, Roy. Just glad I was there."

"So were we." Chet grinned.

Hank smiled, "Sam, do you want me to write you a note so your 
supervisor knows where you've been?"

Sam chuckled, "No thanks Hank. He heard every word of my transmissions
into Rampart. We monitor those. He already knows where I am."

"Handy. Okay. Thanks again."

"You're welcome guys. You boys stay safe."

Marco smiled, "Always. Have a good night at work."

Sam smiled, "I hope so."

"We'll be seeing you?" Cap asked Lanier after the post rescue work was 
done.

Lanier grinned like a cat. "No, you'll be hearing me."
And then he winked and walked away, whistling, as
he returned back to his yellow Volkswagon Beetle.

Roy left in the squad not long after and headed for Rampart. 

Nearly an hour after the initial call went out, the rest of
the engine crew finally headed back to the station.

-------------------------------------------------------------------------

Photo:  The vehicles in Station 51's bay from
              the perspective of the back yard looking in.

Photo:   Charlie by his maintenance truck.

Photo:    Close up of Charlie, the mechanic.

Photo:    Cap issuing orders to the gang by the engine.

Photo:    Sam Lanier using the biophone on scene.

Photo:    The gang working on a wreck at the top of a gorge.

Photo:     Roy and Johnny opening a red door on a vehicle.

Photo:     The gang rescuing a man in a stokes over a guard rail.

**************************************************
From: patti keiper <pattik1@hotmail.com> 
Date: Wed Feb 6, 2008 2:37 am 
Subject: Get A Little Of That Human Touch.. 


Dr. Morton let go of the biophone receiver's button hastily
and snatched at the chart that Dixie just had delivered stat
to the paramedic alcove station. "Give me that, Dixie. I'll let
you know the minute I know what's going on."

"Mike, what's happening up there? Nobody's telling me anything."
McCall demanded, finally letting go of Sharon Walter's medical
record.

"That's because nobody knows yet."

Both doctor and nurse startled when a sudden
Code Blue was called to the same general floor on which the 
staff emergency was unfolding.

##Code Blue. Code Blue. Room 302. Dr. Morton, report
immediately to Room 302.## said the hospital operator overhead.

"I'm gone, lady!" Mike complained to the air. "I should have seen this
coming. Sharon's been sick all week and I didn't approach her about
it. Not even once, Dix. I'll let you know as soon as I get the basics."
he said, yanking open the base station's glass door.

"But.." Dixie sputtered. "That might be my nurse in trouble up there."

"Stay with the radio. You're in charge of Squad 45's follow-through from
51's car case! I'll call you using the red phone.." he said, pointing
derisively to the one on the wall above the paramedic intercom.

He tried to run when the radio called him back. It was an unfamiliar 
voice reporting paramedic findings.

Morton grumbled, "Answer that for me." he snapped at Dixie, now
very worried about the time that was slipping away when he
should have already been upstairs. He hastily read core details
from the inside of Sharon's chart.

"Unit calling in, please repeat." Dixie said swiftly, taking over
the receiver.

##Rampart, this is KMG 941 L.A. on behalf of Squad 51. We've
a second male victim of a single car rollover.##

Morton continued to talk into McCall's ear. "If it's not critical, handle it
yourself and tell Joe to skip coming to this one so he can respond 
to my floor emergency, too. Who's attending up there?"

"Kel is.. er.. he was. I thought he was sleeping on break. Up there's
his usual hiding spot." Dixie blurted out. 

"My bunkroom?"

"Yep."

"I've always wondered who wrinkles up the bottom bed." Morton 
groused.

"So lucky he was close at hand for this code call." Dixie snorted
and then she answered the caller. "Go ahead, 941 L.A., your 
recording's enabled."

Morton abbreviated the process on deciding if he could leave.
He thumbed the toggle. "Sam, does he need a chopper to lift
him out?"

##Negative. He's conscious with holding vitals. He's ETOH,
and very relaxed. No obvious heavy trauma past two ankles.##  
said Lanier reading the notes Roy had handed to him.

Dixie nodded her head. "Ethanol intoxication. I got this. 
You're covered. Go." she told Mike, giving him and the chart
both a healthy shove out of the communications cubicle. 

Morton took off for the elevators, fighting his fears and doubts the
whole way up to the third floor. He used his staff's magnetic badge 
to swipe the elevator reader into priority mode. "Medical emergency. 
Take the next one." He told an orderly returning an orthopedic patient 
to her room.

---------------------------------------------------

Sounds of active talking, wailing alarms and a flurry of activity
around a bed in the effected room gave Dr. Morton the first clue
on how severe the situation really was. "Is she viable?"

Kel answered from where he was listening over Sharon's opened
uniform shirt. "Yes. I toned a blue because her rate's highly irregular."

"She's still unconscious. Cooling measures?" asked Morton as he 
began a full head to toe on Sharon as the orderlies and Nurse 
Carol Evans cut away her restrictive clothing down to the skin.

"Already on the way." Kel replied, testing deep tendon reflexes in
her legs. They were twitching slightly. And so were her arms.
He looked up. "Carol, get a catheter in. We'll need a urine
sample to screen for any active pathogens. A U/A, U/C..."

"Kel, she's been sick." Morton said, interrupting, pausing in 
his check of Sharon's oral airway under the oxygen mask.

"How so?" Kel asked, looking up from the EKG strip he was reading.

"Sore throat. Joint aches. For the past week at least." Morton said 
self consciously. "I noticed but I didn't pursue it."

Dr. Brackett grimaced at the oversight of Mike's about a staff member. 
"Too late now. Any throat culture's bound to come up negative."

"Draw a full blood series?" Mike suggested.

"Yeah, go ahead and get six tubes. Standard everything." Brackett 
agreed.

Morton stepped over to the prep tray and got the supplies he
needed. A sharp smacking he gave her arm to raise a vein 
started bringing Walters around. She moaned incoherently.

Deftly, Kel pulled out the oropharyngeal before the young nurse
could vomit on a gag reflex. "Sharon?.. Can you hear me yet? It's
Doctor Brackett."

Walter's head and face shivered and her eyes began to roll. She answered
with sounds but no words came out. Her struggles became stronger
as she began to thrash arms and legs in an activity that wasn't a seizure.
It was something else. Two orderlies grabbed her wrists and ankles to
keep her from bumping them on the bed railings.

"Tie her down. Lamb's wool restraints." Morton told them. 

"Sedate her a bit, Mike. This isn't a normal way of coming back to 
consciousness at all." Brackett conferred. 

Morton reached over to the crash cart and soon, he established a fast 
saline lock. A minute later, he delivered a dose of light diazepam to 
calm the worst of the young woman's tremors down.

"That did it. What's her breathing rate now?" Kel asked.

"Ten, and not as deep." Carol replied.

"Good. She's stabilizing. Now all we have to do is--"
His voice seem to agitate Sharon, even more than the ice a nurse
began to lay about her sweating body to curb the fever, did.
"Get Dixie up here. Stat!" Brackett said to the others. "Maybe she
can get through to her better than I can. We're gonna need a
solid history."

"I'll take these to the lab." said Morton, finishing up what had
been interrupted.

"Get Joe in here, too. She's still got arrythmias in Lead II. I'm
gonna need his consult on this eventually. Sooner is better
than later."

"I'll call him before I go." said Morton, moving to the phone
on the wall.

"Take this along, too, doctor." said Evans, handing off a culture 
cup she had drawn from Sharon's newly established bladder 
catheter. "It's a sterile catch."

Mike held out his tray for it, then he left rapidly for the basement
with Sharon's line of still very hot samples.

--------------------------------------------------

Dixie flew into the room. "How is she?"

"Semi conscious and febrile." Kel told her immediately.
"Out of immediate danger."

"You may be a doctor, but there is more than one kind of
danger going on here." McCall scoffed protectively as she
donned a pair of gloves and began soothing Sharon's restless
movements with a cool hand on her forehead.

"What?" Kel blinked, distracted, taking a blood pressure reading.

"Never mind. Uh, can all of you leave for a few minutes? Carol and I
will watch her until Joe gets here for his turn at a once over. I
think I can get the information you need out of her better that way."

Remembering suddenly about the crush Sharon once had on him, 
Brackett nodded minisculely, and retreated dutifully, taking the male
orderlies with him.

The door closed. And Carol took a chair over by the heart monitor
to run another strip or two.

Dixie sighed, finally smiling down at Sharon. "Men." she began.

"Are they gone?" Walters whispered in a chilled and shaking shiver.

McCall immediately drew up a sheet that covered Sharon up to
the chin. "Yes. For now. What's the problem, love? Was it having 
them taking care of you?"

Walter's didn't answer, but tears suddenly leaked out of both eyes,
causing her usually beautiful mascara and peachy rosy blush, to run 
in hideous streaks. 

McCall wiped these away with a gloved finger. "Hey... It's okay.
There's nothing to be embarrassed about at all."

"But they saw me..." Sharon minced and she began to cry softly,
still half scared of the tiny remaining jumps her arms and legs were 
drumming on the bed that she couldn't control. "I can't help think 
what he thought. What all of them thought about my--" she broke off,
completely frightened and self conscious.

McCall met her young charge's eyes evenly, and adjusted some
twisted soaked hair away from the elastic strap on her O2 mask 
gently. "Sharon, Kel's just a doctor. He's not thinking anything that way.
As for Mike, for him, any patient's just a puzzle that needs to be solved.
Nudity to them is nothing at all, believe me. It's nothing to you anymore 
when you take care of others, right?"

"That's right." she said only half certainly. Her youth was showing strongly.

Dixie smiled, seeing the teenager that Sharon still was behind her eyes.
"Well, they've been in this healthcare business far longer than either one of us.
So everything like that has become old hat to them. Ages ago." Dixie soothed,
keeping an eye on the EKG monitor when it sped up a little as Sharon
fretted. "For example, do you see me as being scarred for life?"

"I don't get it.." Sharon gasped, trying to get comfortable with
the tube draining her bladder free. "I gotta p**." she said bluntly,
still slightly shocked about her illness.

"No you don't. You remember what you lecture to your patients? That's
just a ghost sensation. It'll pass. Now getting back to the subject.
What you don't get, is what happened to me once when I was in your
shoes."

Sharon tried to frown.

Dixie leaned forward, close in to Sharon's ear, and elaborated.
"I've been seen in the buff by a whole firehouse of men and that
hasn't effected our friendship any, one iota."

Walter's mouth framed into a surprised 'oh.' "What happened?" she
squeaked, wheezing a little as her illness fought her.

"Trauma assessment. I had a car roll on top of me. Enough to flatten my
head a little. I woke up in an ambulance to brand spanking new paramedic 
Johnny Gage, blushing brighter than a cherry, with his hands on my 
totally bare ribcage, checking me out for fractures."

"How'd you get over that?" Walters whispered, horrified.

"I cracked a joke. I said. Either propose to me or tell me where I'm broken,
before I deck ya." Dixie chuckled, trying to get Sharon to smile.

Sharon curled up weakily. "I'm not in a joking mood. How can I be? 
Something's horribly wrong. I can feel it."

"It's nothing we can't fix. They left you alone with me, didn't they? It can't
be too bad or they'd still be hovering around us like a pack of bees." Dixie
shared. "Now tell me your symptoms. I was sent for to glean out all your
deepest darkest secrets, don't you know?"

Coughing wetly, and grimacing at the irregularly bleeping heart monitor,
Sharon told her everything.

When Dixie had finished taking down her notes, she added, "All right if
I check you out myself? It's been ten minutes. There may have been
some changes they need to know about."

Sharon lowered the sheet and Dixie got to work. She found small bumps
on Sharon's knees and elbows, just under the skin and fresh signs of
fluid buildup in her legs which was causing Sharon's ankles to swell.
"Do any of these hurt?" she asked, pressing on the lumps.

"No. Should they?"

"No. Definitely not. How's your chest?" McCall stated.

"It hurts." Sharon gasped.

"Trouble breathing?"

"Not really. I'm just really, really tired." she sighed softly, closing her eyes.

"All right. Now that's a consciousness level alteration. I'm bringing them back in, 
okay? But with one change.."

"What's that?" Sharon asked quietly, beginning to drift, despite her limb
tremors.

"This." And Dixie placed two towels around Sharon's private areas discreetly
enough, so none would get in the way of any another checkup when Dr. Early
finally came by for an official visit.

"....t-thank you, dixie...." Walters murmured, falling into unnatural drugged sleep. 
She gripped Dixie's fingers gratefully.

"Anytime." McCall answered, still holding her sick and youngest nurse's 
hand while she squeezed it right back.

Sharon finally smiled the tiniest of smiles, when she found that she was no 
longer scared.

----------------------------------------------

Photo: Dixie and Morton on the biophone in the base station.

Photo:   Morton and Brackett examining someone on a bed.

Photo:  A good close up of Nurse Sharon Walters.

Photo:  Dixie lying unconscious under a car, bleeding.

Photo:  Dixie talking to Sharon in the hallway, a lecture.

**************************************************
From: patti keiper <pattik1@hotmail.com> 
Date: Wed Feb 6, 2008 1:40 pm 
Subject: Caretaker Personified 


Sharon took a deep breath, and woke up.  She saw
that she was in a patient room. 302 was dry markered
on the status board on the wall at the foot of her bed. 
She was confused, and so she hit the patient call 
button wired on the cord tied to the bed railing.

Dr. Early entered the room with her patient chart.
Immediately, he began to smile. "Morning."

"Doctor? I'm so sorry. I--"

"Shh.. You're supposed to be resting, Miss Walters.
Doctor's orders." he teased.

"Isn't this my day to work swing shift on the floor?"

"Not any more, it isn't. You've some healing to do first."
he grinned. Ceremoniously, he set the chart he was carrying
down onto her ample covers and opened it for her, facing
the pages so they were turned for her right side up.

"Oh, I can't read that." she gasped self consciously.
"Only doctors are supposed to--"

"Well, why not? It's your patient chart, so go on ahead.
Don't you want to know what happened to you yesterday?"

"I guess."

"Anything you don't understand, we can go over together."
said Joe kindly.

Sharon blinked, still doe eyed and uncertain. "Is it bad,
Dr. Early?" she said, without really looking at what her
eyes were targetting amid all of the mumbo jumbo of
doctor speak. "I know my heart's still off quite a bit."
she said. "I've been watching the monitor."

"You're on penicillin for that cardiac inflammation.
We're guessing you've come down with a first attack of 
rheumatic fever."

"I've what?" she asked, her eyes getting large with surprise.

"Your symptoms fit the profile. You've antibodies for
group A streptococcal pharyngitis in your blood, and those
muscle movements we've tamed down is a classic case
of chorea."

"Am I contagious? Oh my God. Dixie was here. And Kel, Carol
and Mac and Stan the orderlies..."

"Easy there. Settle down before you get tachycardic again for 
no good reason." he laughed. "You aren't infectious now. 
Not in the slightest. You were when you had strep, but last night
and today is all just an autoimmune response of your own body 
still setting up to attack the strep infection you once had. The fever
isn't real. It's a farce. Your T-cells are targetting the joints,
heart and we think, your brain. That's why you're so sleepy
now."

Sharon looked numb, so Joe went on, reassuring her.

Early moved closer, "May I sit down?" he said, gesturing to the
bed. 

"Certainly. I...sorry. Umm. This is really a shocker. I mean. I'm
healthy. Or at least, I thought I was." she frowned, reaching for 
a kleenix sitting on the patient table near her bed.

Joe sat down on the bed and took her other hand affectionately.
"You will be in about two to twelve weeks, when the prednisone
we're giving you reduces the swelling in your heart. The I.V. antibiotics
are already well on the way of convincing your body that you're
no longer infused with bacteria."

Sharon started tearing up. "But doesn't rheumatic fever damage
people's hearts?" she said, frightened. "I took care of Missus 
Miller last month going in for surgery," she sniffed. "..and that's
what she said happened to her when she was a little girl."

"Sharon.. she was going in for mitral repairs. Only in some
cases does rheumatic fever damage heart valves. And even if
scarring occurs, it may take ten to thirty years for symptoms of
valve problems to show. On the off chance they do, we can replace
anything going bad then, with surgery, to an almost complete 
recovery." Joe shared.

"I still don't feel so well." she moped. "I think I overheard Dr. Morton 
saying that I was incurable..."

"But fully treatable. We're prescribing bed rest and a return to
normal activities gradually. A liquid or soft diet for now that's
low salt so we don't exacerbate your carditis while you're staying
here..." he ticked off on his fingers. "Drugs to reduce inflammation,
reduce fluid buildup, and others to control those leg and arm movements."

Sharon grinned. "I think with these, I make a pretty good disco dancer.
Wanna stand me up to see how I groove?" she joked.

Joe laughed lightly. "Those spasms'll fade in a week or so. They've
already gone away enough for us to not have to restrain you any longer."

Walter's dark brown eyes met his, trying to be brave, but failing.
"When am I going to be discharged? I... Doctor, money's tight right now. 
I just changed apartments. And-- I'm wondering if my nursing career's 
ending before it's even begun." she began to sob openly again. 
 
Joe smiled, not looking away. "Hey.. If I know Dixie, she'll force the hospital
administrators to wait for your graduation, so even after you've been evaluated by 
specialists on a possible outcome with your heart, nobody can terminate your
position because you're gonna be on solidly approved LOA. I'll sign the 
papers myself."

"Oh, Thank you, doctor, thank you so much.." she smiled, brimming with tears.

"Also, the nurses, and all of us, have already collected a pool of cash to last you
until you're back on your feet again. Think of it as a trust fund. We all love the work
you're doing here at the hospital. None of us wants you to leave. Ever, if we can
help it."

Sharon started crying again, this time tears of joy and gratitude. And she held out
her shaking arms to Joe who took her into a warm hug of encouragement just
as tight as the one she gave him. Sharon was utterly speechless, but nothing 
further needed to be said at all as spears of pure sunlight began flooding the 
room through the window, filling the air with rainbows around them.
 
-----------------------------------------------------

Photo:  Dr. Early, Dr. Morton and Dr. Brackett
             in conference in the hallway with a chart.

Photo:  Sharon working with Dixie and Kel, buried in
             EKGs and reports.

Photo:  Kel and Joe looking down at someone,
             in full caretake mode.

**************************************************
Subject: Hippy Crack Anyone?? 
From: patti keiper (pattik1@hotmail.com) 
Sent: Wed 2/06/08 7:24 PM 


Dr. Brackett clutched his shock blanket protectively
to his sleepy chest as he sought another napping
place. ::No sense going back to the resident's nook
now. Everybody's found out that I like to go there to
unwind a little on all my breaks. D*mn. Where's a spot
not even Dixie can figure out this time?:: he thought
tiredly.

Out loud, Kel continued a stream of epitaphs. "So
much for getting some shut eye in between triple
shifts. Last night was a real winner. Being interrupted 
by young kid nurses who can't take care of themselves 
well enough to stay healthy. D*mm*t. But I'm glad she's
all right. It was worth losing a little sleep to take care of her
sudden prob---... ah ha..!"

Peeking around secretly, Kel eyeballed up and down
the ground floor hallway before he put his hand on
the doorknob of a mop broom closet next to the
main surgical store on 1East. 

Entering quickly, Kel cleared off half an empty shelf 
of paper towel packs and made a comfortable bed 
for himself using rows of their soft bulk as an 
impromptu mattress.  Grumpily, he tore off his pager 
and tossed it crankily over his shoulder. It landed, 
still powered on, into the janitor's hand sink with a clatter. 

He kicked the door shut with a happy flourish and doused the
lightbulb with a quick unscrewing motion of fast fingers,
until it winked out into complete and total darkness.

Sighing, Brackett stretched out blissfully, knowing that he
had a full half hour before he began his 'next day' oncall.

Kel fell asleep in seconds, his arm cast over
his eyes.

Silence reigned over the little used hallway. It was
Sunday, and there was no regular surgeries scheduled 
except for any emergency case that happened to come 
in by paramedic intercept.

-------------------------------------------------------------------

Several long minutes later, a light trembler shook
the building. Power wasn't interrupted so Rampart's
staff just noted that the fire department scanner was
turned on and then they went about their business as the 
Richter scale didn't even crank out an alert at all, falling 
far below the standard earthquake strength of one.

But in the boiler room, two workers began to talk.

"Yeah,.." said Scotty, the old Irishman. 
"The existing hospital complex suffered moderate 
damage in the Northridge earthquake of 1964 which damaged our
interior mainframe. We needed a citation to get all our repairs done. 
I remember being on that team. What was funny was this. Because 
several hospitals were severely damaged during that quake and injured 
people had to be transported long distances for emergency care, the 
state of California passed SB1953, an amendment to an older law 
requiring all hospitals to move their acute care and intensive care 
units into earthquake-safe buildings by 1973."

"Did we pass muster?" asked his younger coworker, dressed in
a neat denim work shirt.

"Finally. Took a lot of work. Tell you what? Why don't you make
a sweep of all critical rooms and make sure all the fuse boxes
and other infrastructure systems are still reading on the true. 
Okay?"

"Sure. What floors first?"

"All of them, boy. You never can be too careful."

-------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Deep in the substrata around Rampart, the tiles in
Anesthesia Store on 1East cracked under pressure.

The spreading fissure in the wall grew, spewing dust
and dirt plumes until it reached a pipe intersecting it,
between two monstrous gas tanks, labelled N2O.

The light tremor in the ground receded back into stillness,
but not before it sheared off the metal valve connecting
this gas's delivery system to the surgical suites next door.

A plume of freezing, sinking invisible gas began spurting
out of the main cylinder juncture at high speed and soon
its writhing layer began to displace all the air in the room 
with its purified substance. The level of foreign mist 
in the room began to rise, and it started to spread laterally, 
through the ventilation system, to everywhere on the ground
floor of Rampart.

----------------------------------------------------------------------------------
Kel coughed, almost choking, and that aroused him.  He
didn't know the reason why right away, for after he had taken 
several deep breaths of air when he felt a light tingling that made
him feel as if he were twisting or spinning. "Whaatt?"

His disorientation increased rapidly, and pulsing sounds,
along with an odd sense of continual deja vu waves, increased, 
wrapping over one another. "Oww.." Then, as he opened his eyes,
Kel had a chaotic view of corsicating color in bright neon tunnel 
vision.

"Ah!!" He nap jerked, as the urge to breathe again suddenly
bit down. Dr. Brackett struck his head on the top shelf above
him instantly and that, knocked him out the rest of the way.

------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Photo:  Brackett looking up to something in a hallway.
 
Photo:  An engineer working on pipework.

Photo: A freshly cracked brick wall in a basement.

Photo:  A series of blue nitrous oxide tanks.

Animated: Gas leaking out of a tank.

Photo:   Brackett down unconscious, sweaty.

Photo:   An empty, lonely hospital room.

Photo:  Fire engines responding to a hospital after a quake.


**************************************************
From: Erin James <etlhostej@voyagerliveaction.com>
Subject: Bugged
Date: Wed Feb 6, 2008 7:55 pm 


Joe smiled at Sharon who was growing more tired. "Sharon, 
you get some rest now, you hear. I'm going to go check on your 
cardiac test results and then I will check on you later."

Sharon said sleepily, "Okay, Doctor Early. Thanks for everything."

"You're welcome. Ring one of the nurses if you need anything."

"I will."

Joe left as Sharon nodded off. He quickly made his way to the lab. 

The normally unshakable doctor was having a hard time with this case. 
The staff was pretty much one big family. They all looked out for one 
another. Joe had seen Sharon from the time when she was just a student 
and it wasn't easy to see her in her present condition. Joe thought, 
::I hope we can get this thing under control and get her back on her 
feet. She was a bit wet behind the ears when she first started here, 
but she's blossomed into one heck of a nurse. I hope we can save 
her career.::

Joe made it to the hot lab in record time. There were two lab techs 
and a young intern in the lab. One of the techs looked up as Joe 
walked in. Surprised, he said, "Hi Joe, what can I do for you?"

"Hi Tom, I was wondering if you had Sharon Walters' test results 
yet?"

"Actually, I do. Right here." 

The tech handed Joe the results. Joe read them over quickly and 
half frowned, "Well, the only good news is we caught it before it 
did permanent damage. At least, I got what I came down here
for. We can rule out purulent pericarditis with Neisseria." :: Now 
the question is how do we handle what's already been done?::
he wondered.
 
----------------------------------------------------------

Joe never got the answer to his question. His thoughts were cut off 
when a piercing alarm rang out. "What the--?"

Tom spoke quickly, staring at a sudden flashing light glowing brilliantly
on his panel. "Doctor Early, we have to leave NOW! The main room's
infectious seal has been broken. We're all at risk of exposure to 
who knows what."

 Joe was stunned. As they all broke for the door, the young intern, who
was the second to the last to leave, didn't watch where he was going.
He flattened Early unknowingly with the closing door in his blind panic.

Joe was knocked silly and he barely had enough wits to 
brace himself for the impact. His last waking thought was, 
::D*mn this hurts.:: 

With that, Joe let the black out take over as his head hit the 
cold floor of the lab with a solid clunk which completed his
trip into oblivion.
 
------------------------------------------------------------

A few minutes after Joe hit the floor, he slowly came around.

He was disoriented at first, as to where he was. Once he heard
the dull tone of the emergency alarm going off, it came back
to him. ::I need to get into some kind of mask. Good grief, how 
long have I been out?!:: 

Joe checked and made sure he could move his arms. They had
taken the brunt of his fall and then he blinked a few times to
clear the fog in his mind. Once Early had his faculties back,
he slowly got to his feet. Joe made sure he gained his 
balance before attempting to move. ::D*mn! Gonna need to 
get my noggin looked at. I think I may have scrambled
something up there. But clean air first.::

Joe looked around and spotted his destination, the 
emergency air bottle storage. As quick as he could, he 
made tracks to the locker. He was relieved to find a 
HEPA mask in amongst the other gear and he quickly put 
it on. Then he slowly made his way over towards a phone.

He took one last look in the lab and thought, 
::Wonder what the heck caused this mess?::  

Panic set in when he realized how quiet the floor was. 
::I've got to make sure everybody else's okay.::

Joe got over to a nearby stool and immediately 
vetoed using the emergency stairs. The risk of 
exposure now was probably too high for him 
to actually leave the hot room. Joe turned and 
reached for the phone receiver on the desk in front
of him. The single phone immediately blossomed
into two, and then doubled again.  ::Calling for
help with a bad headache like this SHOULD be fun.:: Joe
thought sarcastically. ::NOT!:: He began to sweat
when the mask suddenly started to seem to make it 
hard for him to breathe. He resisted pulling it off.

Joe started to grope for one of the phones again when the
world around him started spinning like a top. He slouched
against the wall, willing the dizzy spell to go away. It wouldn't. 
::Ah, man not again:: Joe thought. He had no choice but 
to let the black out take over a second time. 

-----------------------------------------------------------

Photo:  A viral hot lab at Rampart.

Photo:   A technician working under a fume hood.

Photo:   A hospital tech working with live cultures.

Photo:   Joe with a sore neck.

Photo:   Joe looking surprised with a question on his lips.

Photo:   Joe getting a headache.

Photo:   Joe Early unconscious with a head injury on the floor.

**************************************************
From: patti keiper <pattik1@hotmail.com> 
and 'Erin James' <etlhostej@voyagerliveaction.com
Date: Thu Feb 7, 2008 3:56 am
Subject: ~~Perserverence Wins The Race~~


Dixie McCall finally reached the point of actually declining 
coffee. Almost losing Sharon Walters had been stimulus 
enough for her. ::That and handling the finer points of 
teenaged-patient-to-doctor sensitivities.:: she mused.

She was back at her desk, mulling over the one
chart she had left to update. Sharon's. 

Bored, she leafed through it and noticed a followup note from 
Joe that hadn't been added. ::Now that's not like him. He usually 
hangs over the lab boys until he rules out ALL the fatal stuff 
when it comes to heart bugs. Now where's that report?:: she 
wondered, still searching.

Thinking it was lost, she asked the nurses going about their
rounds about it. They didn't know anything. So Dixie 
decided to intrude on Kel's sacrosanct freetime solely on the 
basis that any delay could possibly mean a life threatening 
oversight for Sharon. And as Walter's primary care physician,
McCall was very certain that Brackett would want to know 
about it.

So she picked up the telephone and dialed in to Kel's
pager number.

Then she waited while the system connected to his unit.

-------------------------------------------------------------------

Somewhere in the hospital, the younger maintenance 
man got on his radio. "Dave to Scotty. Got your ears on?"

##Yeah, I'm on the second floor. Anything?##

"Not yet. Floors eight through three are all clear. 
No red point trigger alarms firing. Water pressure's
good. Oxygen psi's normal in all rooms so far, and
even the new data computer is up and running, intact."
Dave reported, rubbing his sweaty chin that was
damp from his exertions from tramping down all the
stairwells containing their fire panels.

##Good deal. Let's meet down on the ground level.
That's where all our volatiles are stored...##

"And the live bugs.... Man, if they ever got out...."
Dave shivered.

##God forbid.## sighed Scotty over the channel.
##Okay, I'm heading down. Meet you in one?##

"At the main hallway intersection. 10-4."

The older maintenance man laughed. ##What are
you doing? Do you think you're a CHiPper or something?
Use plain language. Hate to break it to ya, but we aren't in 
the heroic line of business at all there, good buddy.##

"Look who's talking? Is that C.B. radio chatter I'm hearing?"

##Maybe.##

Dave felt a surge of playfulness. "You're closer than me.
Wanna race?"

##You're on! Go!## came Scotty's instant reply.

The game was pure fun for both men, until they
shot around mutual opposite corners and came nose to
nose up against a lowered emergency bulkhead flashing
red lights.
 
-------------------------------------------------------------------------
Station 51 wasn't really glad to be finally all back in quarters,
for their accursed lull of no runs had set in once again after 
the early action of yesterday. 

Recharged after one of Stoker's famous breakfasts, 
Johnny was getting antsy. "Hey, Pally."

Roy looked over at his recharged best friend and groaned 
inwardly. He said, "Yeah, Junior?"

"Ya think..."

Roy cut his friend off, "...we can do a supply run?"

"Yeah." Gage grinned after Roy had completed his sentence.

"Sure, Johnny." DeSoto said, indicating the way ahead of him
from the kitchen.

Cap grinned, "Feeling a little housebound are we, pal?"

Johnny blushed, "Sorry, Cap."

Mike chuckled, "Don't be. After the morning we had 
yesterday, it's hard to just put the brakes on it."

Hank grinned, "Stay available, you two. Tell the 
hospital crew we said hi."

Roy chuckled, "We will."

Roy and Johnny left the day room and then the station.

------------------------------------------------
Minutes later,  they pulled into Rampart. 

Johnny commented as they climbed out of the squad. 
"I wonder what Rampart's been doing with another quiet 
day on their hands."

Roy said, "That's if they even calmed down after what we 
dropped off for them."

Johnny chuckled, "True. And it seems like that baby earthquake
didn't charge up the mix either. There's nobody here." he
exasperated. 

"Good, and you know what that means..." Roy began as a 
forethought.

"No line in the cafeteria..." Gage crowed.

"Don't tell me that you're hungry again. You just ate.." Roy
complained.

"I'm a growing boy..." Johnny grinned, burping loudly.

"Okay. Okay. I give in. Get your second breakfast so I can
get a little peace and quiet." DeSoto said grumpily.

"Deal. Let's go in the main visitor entrance, that way's faster."
Johnny suggested.

"If you insist." DeSoto said, giving in.

The boys walked into an unfrazzled main lobby.
As they hit the cross in the hallway, they overheard 
two nurses say, "Hey, have you heard about Sharon Walters?"

This perked the guys' ears up. One of the nurses said, "Yeah, 
sounds like she's gonna be in a world of hurt for a while."

Concerned and curious, Johnny spoke up, "Uh, ladies what room is
Sharon in?"

"Think we're gonna give that away to you, Romeo? Buzz off. She's
a sick girl." one of them replied.

Roy sighed hugely. "Please, for me? I'll keep him on a leash."

Appeased, the second one answered, "Okay, I trust you. You have
cute eyes.  Um,... 302, Mr. Dreamy." she said after checking the 
number she had inked onto her palm. 

Roy said, "Thanks. Thanks a lot. Listen, uh,  when you see Dixie,
could you let her know that Squad 51 is up visiting Sharon and 
if she needs any help at all with her, to let us know?"

"Okay. See you later, Pool Eyes.." she crooned. 

Miffed, Gage was offended as he watched Roy wave shyly back. 
"How do you do that? You're a married man for Pete's sake."

Roy shrugged. "Natural charisma?" he offered.
 
After they had eaten their second breakfast, Roy and 
Johnny decided to walk it off. On their way to the 
steps, they noticed the elevators were out of 
order. Roy said,"I guess the quakes turned the 
elevators off."

Johnny commented, "Looks that way." The 
two of them made their way up the steps. 

Johnny shrugged as the duo jogged the stairs. Johnny thought
:: Nice to get some exercise after that lull::

Johnny hiccuped loudly as they climbed up to 
the third floor.

Roy looked over, "You okay, partner?"

"Yeah, maybe I shouldn't have had that 
second breakfast after all."

Roy smirked, "Ah, looks like the 
growing boy has hit a limit."

Johnny smirked, "Never mind me, Pally.
We have a nurse to go cheer up."

Roy and Johnny made it to their floor in a minute. 

Roy opened the door and held it, "After
you, Romeo." 

"Would you just shut up." Gage warned.

Roy just smirked again.

It was really quiet as the guys made their way to 
Sharon's room and disappeared inside without a 
single other staff person seeing or preventing 
them from entering.
 
--------------------------------------

Sharon looked up when she heard the door
open. She was surprised to see Johnny and
Roy, but quickly recognized them as having
made a special trip just for her. They didn't smell
like firesmoke or freeway exhaust.
 
"Johnny, Roy, what are you doing here?"

Johnny's lopsided grin appeared as he said,
"Well we heard you were a bit under the weather
so we figured we'd come visit you."

Sharon blushed, "Th-thannk you."

Roy smiled, "You're welcome."

Johnny turned back to business mode. "Have 
they told you anything yet?"

Sharon bowed her head, "They said I have 
rheumatic fever... Oh,..it's not contagious,
but it almost cost me my career before I 
ever really got started." Sharon said and
she grinned openly with affection as she
recalled what the other nurses and doctors
she worked with had done for her. And then
she started weeping again.

Roy and Johnny looked at each other and 
silently nodded. The duo wrapped Sharon 
up in a hug, and Roy said calmly, "I'm glad 
you guys got that whole thing figured out. 
How are you feeling?"
 
Sharon struggled between sobs, "They 
can't cure me,... ever, and I won't be
feeling good for weeks and weeks yet."

Johnny said, "Hey now, they can treat ya. 
Trust me. From being a multiple time 
visitor to Hotel Rampart, I know you'll
have nothing but the best folks working on 
you."

Sharon started to relax as the guys' words 
sank in. Feeling her relax, Roy and Johnny
both let go of her. 

Sharon leaned back against her 
pillows, "Thanks, guys. I needed that."

Roy said, "You're welcome."

Johnny added, "Anytime you need to be 
reminded, we'll be happy to show you." Gage
said eagerly.

Roy smacked him on the arm for excessive
libido.

Johnny didn't even look at him. "Well, maybe
just a little." he amended, enduring the sting.

Sharon cracked a half smile, "Okay." 

But then she sobered up again, frowning sadly.

Concerned Roy asked, "What is it, Sharon?"

Sharon said, "I was going to show Dixie,
Doctor Brackett, and anybody else who was 
interested, something I did in one of my 
nursing classes. But now I don't think I'll
get a chance to before they get too old
to remember things."

Johnny's ears perked up, "Oh yeah?
What'll take too long for a nurse
and doctor to forget?"

"No, silly. Them. From my behavioral 
class. I was able to train some rats to follow 
commands. I thought that they might be 
helpful if we ever had another lock out."

Then she looked up. "Shhh! Someone's coming.
Hide! I'm not supposed to have any visitors.."
she cried.

--------------------------------------------------------------
"OhmyG*d! The hot room!" Scotty quailed, his mouth fallen
open in shock.

"It's leaking." peeped Dave. Mutely his hand came up and he
pointed. " ...and somebody's caught in the airlock..." 

Dave started to flee, but Scotty grabbed him by the arm, and
hauled him back with a panicky wheeze. "We're safe! And they're
safe! They've got their own clean air supply, man. We gotta 
go talk to them in order to find out what the problem is.
Let's go!"

Lurching and frightened out of their minds, the two Rampart
engineers approached the glass of the mantrap and began
to peer inside. Gasping, the window fogged up on their
end until Scotty had the presence of mind to wipe it away
with a hasty sleeve.  He began shouting, even as Dave ran
to get them both HEPA Class One respirators to wear.
"Are you all right? Are you all right? One, two...and the intern."
he counted fast, shouting over the roar of the klaxon sounding
in their ears, to get a head count.

Dave thrust a biofilter mask over to Scotty and then he
put his own on in just seconds. Breathing hard, he got on his radio.

Scotty saw an okay sign but then, just as fast, there was a pantomimed
disagreement inside the sealed chamber. Tom, the lab tech, was
gesturing a cut throat motion across his neck and lifting up a very
insistent single index finger.

"What? What?!" Scotty shouted. "I don't understand.."

Behind him, Dave began to sound out their alarm. "HVAC to
Hospital Op. Break break break! Biocontainment leak 1East
ground level! Three trapped. Send immediate---"

Scotty grabbed his arm, pushing down the radio urgently.
"Dave, something wrong in there. What are they saying?!"

Distracted, Dave looked up, also seeing the commotion.
"Ohmyg*d. Somebody's missing."

Scotty waited for the radio to switch over to Emergency Band
before broadcasting more information. "Who? Everybody's
accounted for.. Tom, Chang, Lei.."

Dave's face looked full and frightened. "But what if they had a visitor?
Somebody didn't make it into the airlock with the others!"

Scotty planted his nose back against the separating glass.
"Who?! Who is it?" he shouted, overpronouncing his words.

Though mute, the other lab technicians understood. Hastily
they scrawled a single name on a pad of paper from one of
their pockets. 

'Joe Early.' it said.

Dave understood. "One of the doctors from Emergency. A 
cardiac surgeon. He works with Kel Brackett."

Scotty turned back to the others and started nodding.
"Okay. okay.. Is he alive?"

The radio dangling between the two maintenance workers
began to sing. ##Ops to HVAC, confirm Emergency Situation
Priority One. Internal Response Team has been activated.
How many casualties?##

Scotty ignored the transmission, locking onto the technicians
eyes as their faces fell suddenly as they wrote a new note
and pushed it against the window.

'Not moving now. Exposed heavily before airway protection was 
self placed.' came back the written reply.

--------------------------------------------------------------------
Dixie double checked the number she had dialed to
Kel's brand new pager. It was the correct one.
::Maybe I should contact--:: she started to think to herself.

Right then, a nurse walked quickly up to her desk with a 
heads up.

"What is it, Betty?" asked Dixie.

"HVAC's doing a property wide sweep because of that
minor ground shake. Just thought you should know." she
replied.

"Okay, thanks, Betty. I'll let the others know as soon
as I finish this page of mine. I sure hope the system
isn't down. Our telephones are fine. Have you had a chance
to play with these new fangled things yet?" she said.

"'Fraid not." she replied apologetically as she walked away.  

Dixie shrugged and decided to solve her problem the old
fashioned way. With a little footwork. ::I'll just track him down.
It's not like this report's that urgent or anything.:: she figured.

"Now where was Kel last seen?" she murmured, scratching her
chin.

"Sharon's room..." floated back a reply. Dixie looked up.
It was Doctor Morton, arriving to claim the coffee that a certain
head nurse, wasn't drinking.

Dixie grinned. "Thanks."

Mike nonchalantly walked up to the fire department scanner
and tapped its readout. "Anything cooking?"

"Not yet." McCall replied. "Seems dead quiet this morning, too,
doesn't it?"

"Unfortunately... But you wanna know something? I'd give anything 
for a little action in the fire department."

"Get out of my skull. A few hours ago, I was thinking the same thing."
Dixie scoffed. "Mind the store. I gotta speak with Kel for a minute
about this.." she said, lofting up Sharon's metal clipboard.

Morton didn't stop her, realizing that he, too, wanted the tightest
and best care for their youngest star pupil. He sat down on the
stool Dixie vacated. "Sure thing." he told her.

Dixie padded to the nearest stairwell and made tracks for
Room 302.

Knocking softly, she entered. 

Sharon was sleeping soundly, undisturbed by the commotion
of the breakfast dietary technicians slowly making their rounds.

Glancing up at the status dry marker board, Dixie hunted for
Kel's latest notes and vital signs entry. It wasn't there for
the current hour.  Frowning, McCall wrote down what information
there was, and then she left as silently as she came.

::Huh. That's weird. I wonder where he is?:: McCall puzzled.
::He was due back on duty a half an hour ago.::

Casting her head around, she caught a passing thought. 
"Did you oversleep I wonder?" she said out loud.

Smiling, she snuck up to Morton's dorm room, and knocked loudly.
There was no reply. Dixie made a face. "He moved.." she complained
to herself. "That's not fair. How am I gonna find him now?" she said,
giving the door another smack with Sharon's chart for good measure.

Dixie thought for a second, ::If I was Kel, where would I go?:: 
Then it dawned on her ::The next quiet place I could find::
"And that means.." she planned out loud. "...that a pager whistle
prompt, will likely scare the h*ll out of him. I think it's time I
buzzed his shorts to within an inch of his life." 

Dixie moved to the nearest house phone next to Sharon's room
and made the special priority request.

She began to get very worried when no one ran up with news
that he had popped out of nowhere looking like something the
cat dragged in.

Snatching up the phone once more, Dixie upgraded to the emergency 
measure, explaining the situation to the hospital operator on duty. 
"He's not answering. Something may be wrong. Maybe another 
patient's down perhaps."

##No problem, Miss McCall. I'll set it to continuous audible.##

"That'll work. I'll send out some people to hunt for it on different
floors. Thanks a bunch." she said. Then she fled down the hall,
casting an ear out for the telltale answer-me-now hail wail of a 
well hidden pager. ::And its wearer.:: she thought triumphantly.

But then her sudden worry began to grow in leaps and bounds.
::Why can't I find you, Kel. You're beginning to scare me.::

----------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Dave the boiler man broke out of his stunned paralysis. He shot 
the radio up to his mouth. "Three safe. One contaminated and 
unconscious. Status unknown."

Suddenly, Scotty staggered against his arm, coughing, and
swaying dizzily. 

Dave grabbed him, and lifted him up. "Scotty? Are you o--" 
Something cloying and unscented clogged his throat, stealing the
air from his lungs. Dave, too, started to choke, suddenly breathless.

Scotty paled, and began moving as fast as he could for the stairs.
"Gas... Let's get out of here!" he gurgled, clutching at his throat.

Whatever it was, went right through the HEPA filters with ease.

The two maintenance men shot into the stairwell, helping each other,
until they got up to the second floor. Together, they emerged into the heart 
of the Emergency Center and there they both fell onto their hands and
knees, and then finally onto their faces, onto the floor.

------------------------------------------------------------------------------

On Sharon's floor, Dixie began to panic. No one had seen
Kel since he last left Sharon's medical emergency. ::When I 
shoed him out the second time so she could finally get some
sleep....Huh. I know. I'll try the lab. He might be checking up 
on Joe's cardiac followup on Sharon.::

--------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Doctor Morton was startled out of his thoughts when he heard a loud thud. 
He was stunned to see Dave and Scotty laying flat down on the ground. 
Suddenly, all of the training he had ever had, kicked in. Morton barked,
"I need some help here. NOW!! I need two gurneys!"

Four orderlies jumped out of their skin and sprinted over with two
wheeled beds. Carefully, Dave and Scotty were loaded onto the stretchers.
The movement jarred Dave back to life, enough to croak out, "Leak-
hot-room. One down, three safe." Dave sank into darkness. 

Outwardly, Morton stayed calm on the outside. On the inside, he was 
galvanized. Morton barked, "Okay, put these men in Two. 
And get some vitals on both." 

Morton followed the orderlies into the treatment room. He grabbed 
the phone and immediately called the hospital dispatcher, "Look, this 
is Doctor Morton in Treatment Two. Call a hospital wide Code Orange. 
Get all available hands to seal off the critical wards and ICU. Those not
doing that, are to report to Emergency, stat! I have two men reporting
a bio outbreak in the lab on 1East."

The dispatcher quickly said, ##Right away, Doctor Morton.##

Morton hung up the phone and turned to the orderlies. "Look, I don't know 
how long it's just going to be me, so you two have been drafted. Take a good
look at these victims and note their status. If anything changes in the 
slightest, one of you is to come get me, STAT! Understood?" he ordered,
after checking to be sure that both were breathing easily. 

Both orderlies nodded affirmative as they replied, "Yes, Doctor Morton."

"Good. Now get some oxygen going. High flow." Morton quickly got and 
wrote down a set of basic vitals that he was finding on them with marker
onto their pillow cases with time stamps. "I'll be back. Remember what I said.
This is a full triage situation. They're both category red."

Without waiting for a reply, Morton stormed out of the treatment room
and headed to the front desk and the myriads of communications 
equipment. Snapping orders, he sent two nurses to attend
the hapless maintenance men. "Assume we're all contaminated
and initiate full quarantine, including yourselves. Under no circumstances,
is anybody to leave this hospital. Is that clear?!"

Everyone nodded.  When they had scattered, Morton quailed inwardly.
::Where the h*ll are Joe, Kel, and Dixie?::
With that thought, Morton bolted from the corridor back to the desk 
and was glad to see a group of new available doctors descending on 
the emergency department. He waved them all over. "All right, listen up!" 
The doctors quieted down quickly. "Look, I'm not sure exactly what we 
have happening, but I know it's going to be all hands on deck. Now does 
any of you have enough experience in trauma or working with quarantined
patients to feel comfortable procedure wise?"

Two of the doctors from neurology spoke up, "We have. It has 
been quite a while, but we're set."

"All right, the two of you go scrub up and head for Treatment Two.
A pair of our mechanics are down, they collapsed on the 
floor from that stairwell. One of them came to and said something 
about the hot room and a leak with one missing, three safe, and then 
he went out again on me. The first, hasn't moved." Morton updated.

The doctors took off. 

Overhead, Morton heard the operator begin to announce the cause
of the probable emergency in staff speak. ##Dr. Orange, to the Hotlab,
1East. Dr. Orange, to the Hotlab, 1East.##

-----------------------------------------------------------------------------

"She's gone. You can come out now.." Walters whispered.

"Okay. Whew, that was close." said Johnny.

"Now where were we?" asked Roy.

Sharon blinked innocently, looking very cute. 
"We were talking about my rats?"

"Oh, yeah, that's right." said DeSoto. "Thanks."

Roy and Johnny were genuinely interested in 
Sharon's bioanimal experiments. Especially ones
that could have rats happily retrieving lost items.

Johnny said, "Hey, that sounds like a great
idea."

"Yeah, and they work really hard, too. I use
a dog whistle to cue them towards what
I want them to pick up. They're especially good
at fetching keys." 

"Handy." Roy smirked.

Sharon bowed her head, "But now I'll never be 
able to show anybody. By the time I get out of 
here, my furry friends'll all be geriatic patients 
down in the lab." 

Roy said, "Don't say that. Say, Johnny,
isn't the faster recovery time on a flare of
rheumatic fever as short as--"

Just then a loud page rang out over the 
hospital intercom. ##Dr. Orange to the 
hotlab 1East. Dr. Orange to the 
hotlab 1East.##

Roy and Johnny spoke at the
same time, "Oh sh*t." and Gage immediately
covered his mouth. "Sorry, Sharon."

"I'm a big girl. I'm over eighteen." 
Sharon said, "Go. Be safe."

Roy called over his shoulder,
"Always..." as the guys bolted out 
of the room. "Can't help it." Gage echoed.

They left 302 in a hurry.

Johnny asked, "Got the elevator 
key?"

"Yes." said Roy, walking swiftly behind
him as they both pulled their helmets
back on.

Johnny grabbed the HT. "L.A.,
Squad 51."

##Squad 51.## was Sam's reply. 

"L.A. , we are responding to a 
Code Orange at Rampart General. 
Unknown if other apparatus is 
needed at this time. Show Squad 51 
10-6 until further notice. We will advise
as soon as we know anything new."

##10-4, 51. Your time out is 11:07.##

Johnny jammed their H.T. into his pocket as 
Roy started the elevator on emergency override
using his universal key.

---------------------------------------------------------

Dr. Morton startled at the banging of hasty feet coming from the
stairwell directly behind him. Gasping, Dixie burst through
the exit and ran up to his side. "Mike! Kel's in trouble..*cough*
I activated the active wail on his pager, and I think I can hear it
down there near that breached lab's level. There's no response
from him."

"Kel's missing? So's Joe, I think. He's been just as invisible 
for showing up for this thing." Mike took a head count. 

There were soon a dozen other doctors available.

"All right, I'm going to split all of you up into four teams of three. Start a search
for Dr. Early and Dr. Brackett as safely as you can. Don't go into any dangerous
situation until we know what else might be a major risk factor for us. I'll 
stay down here to coordinate rescue efforts. Each team? Take 
a handheld radio from the paramedic base station. We'll stay on 
channel 3. Got it?"

Twelve voices echoed, "Yes, sir." 

Morton broke the group up. "I'll be Base. Now..." Morton pointed to 
the first group. "You're Alpha team." Morton pointed to the second 
team, "Bravo." To the third he said, "Charlie." To the last 
team, "Delta. Understood?"

The voices echoed again, "Yes sir."

"Alpha team take Stairwell East. Bravo take West.
Charlie North. Delta you have South. Report
in as soon as you figure out which stairway's the closest to that
pager that Dixie says is sounding off. Kel's wearing it and we
may not have much time to pinpoint a better location before its
battery wears down. Under no circumstances are you to enter
the first level, until you hear from me. Whoever does down
there will be in fully contained biosuits. We have just two 
commissioned to us from the CDC."

Twelve heads nodded and then each doctor took off. With his multi
channel radio at the ready, Morton changed his frequency
to monitor the third channel. 

Anxious to stay ahead of things, he organized the remaining nursing 
and support staff to prep everything he could, assuming a full biological 
outbreak using the greatest limitations of the strongest bug Rampart's 
researchers were keeping alive in the hotlab. 

Mentally, five minutes after that, he ran down a checklist in his head
and was thankful when he realized he had done everything possible 
and then some.

He remained focused on the radio, writing everything down that
he heard, on a legal pad from the base station. Things were going 
smoothly, until he heard some chilling traffic. "Base, this is 
team leader Delta."

Morton quickly cued the radio, "Go, Delta."

"Base we have found the telltale is louder on South.
But there's a problem. There's signs of outgassing present
in every stairwell leading to level one. We've active frosting, sir."
 
Morton felt his stomach drop. "Delta, are you saying you're seeing
some chemical involvement on top of all this?"

"10-4, Base."

"Oh, Kel.." Dixie whispered. "Not you, too, Joe." she sobbed, 
catching her breath. "They both might be dead."

"Now we don't know that yet, Dix." Morton flared. Then he
softened. "It's too soon."

Morton re-cued the radio, "All teams report to the ER, Stat.
Pull out. Evidence of chemical spill. Repeat all hands to Base STAT!"
Morton waited for all of the team leaders to acknowledge
before he reopened his mic.  "Call the fire department."

One of the nurses hissed. "But you've declared a full quarantine."

"I know that! They can still tell us what to do, can't they?" Morton
glared at her, almost losing control.

"We sure can." said Johnny Gage, emerging from an elevator
that he and Roy had keyed to function to the second floor.
"Hiya, doc.." said Johnny to Morton. "We heard the call. I take it
that Orange isn't your favorite color.."

"No, it's not. Take over.." said Mike.

"What do we got?" DeSoto said, assuming command.

"Joe and Kel, trapped within a biocontainment breach
and under an unknown chemical leak. Both on level
one, unlocated." Morton said quickly as he could.

Gage got on his H.T. to L.A. "Squad 51, L.A., we're
under a full quarantine. Keep our response alarm
companies outside until further notice. We'll advise 
the whole situation as soon as we can."

##Squad 51. Message received. Standing by. ## Lanier
replied.

Roy nodded and said, "We'll need some maps of that level.
As detailed as you can."

"And a gas sniffer. We'll throw one down a stairwell and haul it
up again to see what we got." Johnny added.

"You'll get them. Come on, Dix. Let's go see how those
lab boys are faring. Maybe they can tell us something
new." Mike said.

McCall grinned in relief and followed lightly in Morton's footsteps.

Soon, Roy and Johnny located the emergency store room holding
Rampart's self contained firefighting breathing apparatus
and they donned them in prep while they gathered more
information on the exact risks they would be running.

Johnny got a hold of a rope and tied it off around a gas
sniffer. He tossed it down the stairwell the Delta team
of doctors said was nearest Kel and waited for the
device to read the air down there. Then he pulled it
back and up, but far enough away for safety without being
dangerous while he read the data on its screen from where
he stood in full scba.  "Hey Roy? I'm getting just 
CAS No.: 10024-97-2."

##That's it?## DeSoto shouted back over his HT.

"Yep." 

"What's that?" asked Nurse Betty, from across the
safety zone they had set up.

"Hippy crack.." Morton said, returning back over to
the head of the probing operation. "Nitrous Oxide,
Nurse Evans. Laughing gas."

"That's not too dangerous in itself, is it?" Dixie wondered,
joining them.

"No, it's not." said Morton, grinning. "I'll just bet our
little earthquake damaged an anesthesia machine conduit
or two. The main surgical store's down there." Mike turned
to the firefighter paramedics. "Dave and Scotty are awake 
now and they're saying only the room that Joe's in is 
contaminated."

Roy began to smile even bigger. "And you know something
else, doc?" 

"No, what?"

"Dr. Early's never gonna get sick from that lab." Roy told him.

"He's not?" Mike asked in surprise. "Care to explain that little
miracle?"

"Because of the protective bacteriostatic layer of N20 that's
still surrounding him. In effect, Joe's being constantly sterilized
while he's lying there. He's in effect, totally safe from all germs."
Gage elaborated. "And if that gas's only coming from a small
tank, both of them are only being anesthetized. Neither one
of them can die from this stuff unless they were right under
the leak itself."

Dixie sighed in utter relief and leaned her full weight against
the wall.  "It stops bacteria from growing?"

Roy nodded, hurrying as he tied off a safety rope around
his waist and put on his respirator face plate." Only a trace
will do it. Let's go, Johnny. Doc, I suggest you get a couple
of stretchers and longboards ready, cause we're gonna need
em."

"Hang on. Joe's locked in." Dixie spoke up.

"What?" DeSoto blinked.

"The only ones who can open that inner door are the ones
stuck in the mantrap. They have all the passes needed to
uncode that magnetically sealed door pinned to their jackets."
Mike shared.

"Well how are we gonna get to him then?" Betty asked.

Johnny piped up almost happily, remembering something.
"Ah, doc? I think we just may have the answer to that, but
I think you're gonna have a hard time believing that
this is even possible."

"Oh yeah? Try me.." Morton challenged, getting impatient.

"Got a dog whistle handy?" he smirked.

-----------------------------------------------------------------------
Joe Early smirked and starting laughing out loud.
"You mean they just slid the thing using their mouths
under the door into the airlock?" from his hospital
bed. 

"Yep. Easy as pie." Dixie said straight faced.

Roy chuckled. "And you'll never guess who was
the ultimate mastermind of that particular rescue
tactic."

"All right, I'll bite." said Kel Brackett from the next bed. "Who?"

"Sharon Walters.." said Johnny Gage proudly as all
four of them fed celebration cake to all of the rats
milling around on Joe's eating table. 

Brackett's serious demeanor finally cracked,
"Well, I'll be. I guess I really have been underestimating
her all along, haven't I?"

The others, were kind enough not to reply.

Dixie stroked the head of one particularly friendly
rodent, actively. "Hey, there. Bet you never thought that 
one day, one of my nursing students would prove to be 
a heroine, now did ya?"

In reply, the snowy white, sleekly beautiful creature, chirped
softly up at her, and then she blinked both of her intelligent 
eyes.

FIN

Episode 50, The Other Side
Emergency Theater Live

-------------------------------------------------------

Photo:  Good close Morton wearing scrubs.

Photo:  Roy carrying a man in Rampart with Morton.

Photo:  Brackett in a hospital bed.

Photo:  A rescued man on a sheeted stretcher.

Photo:  An earthquake sign stating the obvious.

Photo:  A man in a blue biosuit.

Photo:   Rampart hospital staff, running.

Photo:   Many hands opening a map of blueprints.

Photo:   Joe Early relaxing in a hospital bed.

Photo:  Lab technicians feeding cake to white lab rats.

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

                                      End Credits --  Episode Fifty (Sixth Season)
                                      
                                                  §§   The Other Side  §§

                     :)    This episode is dedicated to Paramedic/FF Greg Hicks..         :)
                           A co-worker of an Emergency Theater Live Host who
                           passed in the night and left us here, missing his kind heart.
                               
                           And to Bobby Troup, gone from us nine years today.
                           Happy Chinese New Year, too. Year of.. you guessed it... 
                     :)    ...The Rat...*wink* (Oh, and crank up your volume a little.)         :)

  
 
The Story Unfolds...

Season Six, Episode Fifty One, Season Finale
 
 §§  What's A Dedicated Captain Like You Doing..   §§
 
Debut Launch: February 6th, 2008. 
 

************************************************************
From: patti keiper <pattik1@hotmail.com> 
Date: Tue Feb 26, 2008 9:30 pm 
Subject: Future Perfect.. 


The sun was already hot and high in the chalk colored 
sky when the awards luncheon at the fire academy next to
L.A. Headquarters concluded.

::Thank G*d that finally ended.:: thought Roy as he pulled 
off his hat and unbuttoned his black formal dress coat. He 
was one of the first officers outside and he wasn't surprised
at all to see a very familiar outline dressed similarly, doing the
same thing. Feeling a quirk of amusement, DeSoto cupped a
hand over his mouth and shouted, disguising his voice. "John
Gage! Stand at attention!" he barked, sounding exactly like
Battalion 14. The animated shape snapped to, just like he 
expected, into a rigid inspection posture, quite satisfactorily, in 
complete startlement. Roy drew close enough for his jacket 
sleeve stripes to reveal themselves as well as his features. 

Johnny dissolved into open surprise and total shock as recognition
dawned. His face immediately beamed a relieved crooked smile.
"Roy!" he called out, happy. "What's a dedicated captain like you
doing in such a tedious chore bound place like this?" he asked
brightly.

"I could be asking you the same thing." DeSoto said wryly, taking
his old paramedic partner's hand into an eager 
I've-missed-you-terribly grip. 

Johnny nodded, finally pleased in a softening way. "My men have
been doing me proud. One of my paramedics at 36's is up for the 
medal of valor for saving three from a duplex fire."

"I saw that. Last month, right? It was in all the papers."

"Eh. Heh..h. Unintentionally, of course, like I told the chief.." Johnny
fidgetted. He became uncomfortable, holding up a hand.

"Come on." Roy disbelieved. "You loved every minute of it as finally
getting another one over on Brice." Roy said, leaning forward, spot on.

Gage readjusted his stance, "Well... Yes, I did. And no, I didn't hit on 
that lady reporter even though she was drop dead gorgeous."

"So you've finally grown up since we both decided to get ourselves
promoted.." Roy demurred, letting him off the hook.

Johnny shot Roy a dirty look. But only briefly. "Four more years since
IS a bit long."

"Yeah. And so's your hair still, I see." DeSoto said, grabbing for Gage's
white dress hat so he could see the lack of a cut better.

Johnny avoided him playfully. "And yours. That's sure new..."

DeSoto shrugged, finally standing still enough to cross his arms 
together companionably tucked in over his elbows. "What can I say? 
You started a trend everybody liked back then. They still do."

"Yeah, I'm glad of that. I've been telling the guys at my station that their
jacket flaps are plenty to block out any falling embers."

"And having all that wet hair on your neck feels real good in a fire." Roy
agreed. "I've found mine cuts down on burns. A lot."

Gage threw out a hand. "There you go. I've always said that the fire 
department should be less like the military and--"

"...more like a brotherhood. I know. And you've succeeded. Look at us." 
Roy finished, grinning toothily. Then he became contemplative, when he 
began to realize something else. "Did you know we've the current 
distinction of being the only paramedic pair holding simultaneous 
captainships? The youngest ever."

Gage patted DeSoto on the shoulder and gripped it affectionately for
a moment. "Yeah. Guess we did set that new standard. Just look at how
many men are joining the department now.." he sighed expansively, 
glancing over at the recruited cadets running their skills and aptitude
tests behind them on the training grounds. 

"You mean, men and women." Roy argued. "I've got two myself 
signed on at home, at 10's."

"Really? As paramedics?" Johnny asked, his dating appetite whetted.

"No, as in regular firefighters." Roy smiled. 

Gage made a face as he considered that idea. "Well, can they pull their
own weight with all the boys?" he asked seriously, all captain.

Roy scoffed good naturedly. "They wouldn't have been signed with
the county if they couldn't, now would they?" DeSoto winked, teasing
Gage.

"Aw, that's true. So, your two.. are they--"

"...married or not? None of your business. You can't dally with anyone
not your own rank at work. Same as always, remember?" Roy prompted.

"Don't remind me." Gage scowled, slumping against the railing which
bordered the steaming parking lot where it sizzled under a grove of
spreading, spicy scented eucalyptus trees.

Both firemen breathed deep appreciably. 

"Hey, no brush fires today.." they both said together, almost in the same 
breath. Then they laughed about their parallel captains' 
instincts and thought now going out strong in both of them. 

Gage continued their first line of conversation.
"Huh." Johnny grunted. "It'll probably be thirty years before that happens.
I'll be an old man by the time a woman finally earns her trumpets like we 
have done."

 "I don't think it'll take that long before the gender glass ceiling shatters 
and falls. The department's too dynamic to not utilize the best 
of just about everybody who's becoming a part of us." DeSoto speculated. 

"Don't be too sure." Gage said. "Firefighting's too popular an idea with
boys who're still growing up like me, to not foster some jealous guarding
of positions as they're being handed out."

"Let's hope not. Smashing stereotypes was what the seventies were
all about." DeSoto chuckled.

"And so now we're into the 1980s. Seems strange writing down an eight
on all my checks nowadays." Johnny mused, grinning oddly.

"Times change." Roy said, fingering his tie.

"Oh, constantly." Gage grimaced, agreeing in seconds. "I don't know how
you take it as well as you do. Now that's the hardest lesson I've ever had
to learn in all my life..." he said with exasperation.

Roy smiled gently. "You mean, even over handling your emotions on any 
of your child down calls?"

"Even over them." he whispered. "I hate the fact that I'm getting older 
already."

"At thirty one?" Roy giggled.

"Yeah." Gage spat back seriously.

"It's gonna happen someday. But,.. I don't see any gray hairs cropping up 
just yet on ya." Roy teased.

"Don't rush me." Johnny frowned, tactfully not mentioning the ones newly 
sun sparkled at Roy's temples. "So, how've you been? What's been 
happening with you lately? We haven't even called each other. Not once."

"Not much. Well, .. that's not true.. Everything actually." DeSoto admitted. 

"Why don't you tell me about it.." Johnny shrugged. "We're friends. 
Rusty ones, but still the best of em I'd like to think."

"I think I will. Let me buy you a soda?" Roy asked.

Johnny reached out and stabbed him in the chest slowly, with
a finger. "Only if I beat you over to the closest vending machine.."
he said quickly, suddenly taking off into a sprint for the nearest food 
building. 

"You're on!" Roy yelled, chasing after him.

Gage and DeSoto were still very much like a pair of little boys
challenging each other on the playground. The only difference now
was that the two were finally at the very top of their careers, and they
were still playing..

Flying off their heads, their two pristinely white captain's hats went bouncing
onto the melting asphalt in awkward circles as the wind claimed them in
a winning friction game move as they began to run even faster. Their 
ties and jackets soon billowed off, carelessly abandoned, in a bid for 
increased fleetness and for more breathing room in the blistering heat.

Roy won the race.

Gage impacted the outdoor pop machine with both palms as he stopped
his flight. Breathing hard to catch his breath, Johnny sagged onto his butt
onto the ground by the hanger's picnic tables. "Y--You're what..." he gasped.
"Forty two now?"

"Yeah.." Roy grinned, still managing his own violent air hunger while 
sweating buckets. "But I'm nowhere near slowing down, eh? Not even
a tiny bit." he crowed. "Nice to know that I can still beat you in an honest
foot race." he gasped. "Once a Viet Nam vet--" he said, plunking down
next to Johnny in a like lump.

"Oh, would you just shut up and let me go grab ya that pop?!" Gage 
griped, clawing his way weakly up to the pay slot over their heads. 

Roy started laughing and he couldn't stop. It became infectious.
 
Soon Johnny was, too, in between his gulps of icy Dr. Pepper.
"Wh- What's so funny?"

DeSoto smiled. "You know how long it's been since anybody's told
me to do that?" 

Gage giggled, then he burped loudly in celebration. "About four
years?.." he guessed, realizing that the last one who said that, had been
him. 

"Right first time." Roy saluted with his own glass bottle of strawberry 
Crush, held aloft. "I'll never forget the last time.. Remember when?"

"How can I forget? We were in deep auto pilot mode that day. All day."
he clarified.

"Yeah.." panted Roy. "We sure were. In the worst way." and soon, both
paramedic captains fell into reminiscing that rescue in a mutual shared
memory as they rested.
 
----------------------------------------------------------------------------------

The emergency doors at Rampart burst open under multiple
patient arrivals. An authoritative voice ripped out physician backed
dictates smartly. "Squad 36, Treatment Two with your pediatric
submersion. Respiratory and X-ray are standing by....110? Straight
to surgery for that subdural, room 3, Dr. Welby. He's already been
scrubbed in. Squad 8? Go to Room Five. We'll be delivering your
partum previa right down here in the ER. ObGyn's booked solid
upstairs, but we have a baby doc available for her. How far along is
she now?"

"Dilated twelve centimeters." replied Dwyer.

The E.R. nurse calling the shots sucked in her breath. "OOo, okay, boys.
Rush it." Then she turned to grasp the panting, fretting mother's hand 
as she was rapidly wheeled on by. "Ready to meet your second daughter? 
She'll be here before you know it. You're still in good hands...." she 
soothed, lightly brushing her sweaty forehead. The soon to be mom
again relaxed into her next contraction, comforted. "Oh, thank you.."
she sighed as the door closed on her room, separating them.

The frantic hubbub that had entered the hospital, ended afterwards,
instantly.

With great satisfaction, Head Nurse Sharon Walters crossed off the
latest crisis from her "now" list with a flourish of her very sharp pencil.
"Check!" she said, clicking off the stop watch that she had hanging openly
from within her white side pocket of her all white uniform. "Oh, rabbits!"
she said, peering at its face. "That resolution set of orders was given only
ten seconds faster than the last case crunch from this morning. Must do
better." she muttered to herself.

Right then, the elevator doors opened up and Dr. Early and Dr. Morton
rushed out onto the floor, unfolding like pairs of stethoscopes from
their pockets to cast about their necks. Both were clutching tone
screeching pagers. Sharon yawned in farce as they got there to
her side. "What took you so long, doctors? Our current emergency
cases now are no longer incoming. They've already been handled."
she punctuated with a crisp nod of her head. "Landsakes,.. I told
the operator NOT to bother you on your lunch breaks for this." she
sniffed in dismay as she settled back down onto the stool at the main
emergency room desk. "I'll let the administrator know about that little
oversight right away.." she promised, picking up the phone.

Mike and Joe both raised their eyebrows as they skidded to a halt
near her on the scuffed tiles before sullenly trodding back to the
elevators to resummon one for a return trip to the cafeteria. 

Morton muttered. "Was Dixie ever that fast on triaging when she
was just starting out?"

"Nope." Early said, watching the numbers fall to their level.

"Well.. I'll say right now that another legacy is most certainly 
being born today right before our very eyes." Morton said, getting 
on as the doors opened.

Joe joined him, suddenly sniffling as he wiped a genuine tear off
his cheek. "That kinda hits you right here, doesn't it?" he said,
gesturing with a closed fist, to his chest.

Mike smiled and shrugged. "I wouldn't know. I wasn't even a ..a..
a.....zitfaced teenager yet when Dixie was new enough at her job... 
to compare anything." he answered honestly. 

"You're missing out." Early said, getting a hold of himself and
his budding pride. "It's a miracle. Dixie's a real protege mom
now. First class."

"If you say so. But I do like what I see in Sharon today when it
comes to crisis situations. Talk about a real pro. Wow.." Morton
gaped. "We may never get to work again." he said in jest.

Early burst out laughing.

------------------------------------------------------------------

The phone rang on the huge dark oak desk only for half a second
before long elegant fingernails picked up its receiver. "This is Floor
Five, Executive Admin McCall speaking..." she prompted.

Right away, on the other end of the line, Sharon Walters began to
laugh uproariously. ##I know it's been years, but I'm still not used to
thinking of our hospital's own Dixie as the main paper pusher and top
end coordinator...## she chuckled, snorting at her friend.

McCall fired back, a warm rasp coloring her voice."Oh, yeah? Well, I'm
not used to some blue smocked college graduate filling my old shoes
downstairs.." she countered. "How's it going, kid?" she asked easily,
afterwards. She began playing with the loosely curled waves
that now rippled down her long unbound waist length hair.

##Oh, it's going. My total recall's coming in handy.##

"See? I told you things would work out all right. I knew the first day
I laid eyes on you that you'd be my ultimate successor. It was just
too bad that a slight adolescent nursing student-to-doctor crush along
with a late dying klutz gene prevented others from seeing your true
potential. But I was never fooled. Who do you think signed your final 
promotion papers?"

##You?## Sharon asked.

"Oh, I helped. Sure. But it was really all the doctors you've ever worked
with who eventually decided. They all agreed that you were the only
nurse out there who had that sparky drive already inborn, to head
the E.R. Department."

##They did?##

Dixie got firm over the phone. "Sharon Walters. I've never lied to
you and I'm not gonna start doing that now. Of course it's up to
the M.D. staff to choose their pitch hitter. I'm mean, they're the ones
who're gonna have to come up swinging when the patients start rolling
in. Who better than someone who fields the starting line perfectly,
every time? Congratulations on ace-ing your first month down there
at my old desk. But getting back to the subject of why you called?
What's bugging you? Is it that horrible fruit machine again? I tell ya,
all you gotta do is nudge it a little with your hip first to--"

"##It's the operators, Dix. They're toning out false priorities on
the physicians' pagers again.## she groused openly.

"Oh. Uh. Well... That's a problem that even I've never been able to
solve. That department's sort of like a nurse's schedule. You never
know where your messages are going to go. Even if they get to the 
right place, they're always messed up. Our operators don't know how
to play "Operator" I'm afraid." she shared. "Try repeating yourself to
them twice once over the phone next time you make a personnel
request and see how that goes? That may work better since that's how
they end up parrot speaking on their job anyways.." Dixie quipped.
"They always double page."

##Oh, very funny.## Walters giggled. 

"Hey, now don't knock it unless you've tried it, okay?" McCall
suggested. "It just may work."

##Okay, Thanks, Dix.##

"Anytime. Bye bye."

##Bye..## said Sharon. Then she hung up quickly with her usual
energy.

------------------------------------------------------------

Photo:  Roy and Johnny as Captains shaking hands.

Photo: Roy and Johnny listening to speeches, dressed formal.

Photo: Roy and Johnny relaxing outside as captains.

Photo:  L.A. Headquarters parking lot.

Photo:  Strawberry Crush soda bottle.

Photo: Johnny Gage close grinning in a black cap's jacket.

Photo:  Station 36 in Carson.

Photo: Station Ten at night, getting a run. 

Photo:  Dixie in office clothes with long hair.

Photo: Sharon Walters talking to Joe Early in the hallway.

**************************************************
From: Patti Keiper <pattik1@hotmail.com>
Date: Sun Mar 16, 2008 6:18 pm 
Subject: Reminiscing The Past..

[(Cameo scene insert at middle by Jill "wone3")- ETL fan writer from the
original ETL episode 00:51 Episode Fifteen]


Johnny Gage repositioned the captain's hat on his head and he sighed, actually
enjoying the heat of the growing day. "Remember the time when Dixie got
so mule headed that she even outdid me?"

"How could I forget?" said DeSoto, leaning back against the dew kissed soda
machine standing near the entrance to L.A. Headquarters.

"I wonder how it all got started for her." Johnny chuckled.

"Only she knows for sure. We can only forever wonder." Roy smiled, playing with
his half empty pop bottle in his hands as he rested. Memory faded to black as
events of that day returned to their recollection.

-----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Dixie McCall stretched languidly on her raft just soaking in
the southern Californian sunshine. ::It's just been far...too... long.::she
sighed, listening to the birds nearby playing in her apartment complex's
birdbath. Max, the caretaker's cat, seemed to agree with her, stretching a
single paw down from his perch on the poolside lifeguard chair.

Children's laughter rang like belltones in her ears as she dozed
under her sunhat and occasionally, the yips of the excited dogs
watching the other tenants sharing the same pool, splashed and
played on the sidelines. Sighing, Dixie let the sun fry out her aches,
one by one. ::If I ever work another double shift like the one I had last
night, may monkeys fly out of my butt.:: she thought. "Ohhh, I hate
head colds." Dixie sniffed, ignoring yet another tickle running down
her throat. She shifted on her inflatable, easing a sudden gut cramp.
The tired nurse let the noonish summer's day work its magic, and
ignored it. "Guess what, Kel?" she mumbled to herself, still quite
alone on her side of the pool. "I'm cancelling dinner plans. This
day is gonna be just ..for......ZZzzzzz...zzz.."

The lulling waves returned her to a state of blissful somnolence.

Dixie didn't know how long she had drifted, when an uneasy pup's
whine sliced through her dreams. McCall made a face.

Then the kids started screaming. Dixie shot up onto her hands, blinking
in the torrid sun's glare, her eyes tearing. She cast her head about towards
the frightened children, shouting in alarm. "What's the problem here?!"

One petrified boy pointed to someplace behind Dixie. McCall turned.
One of the Miller dogs was still whining, standing rigid on a second
floating rubber raft, looking at something down under the water.

Dixie saw a wavering form shimmer, sprouting legs
and motionless, drifting arms.

"Mr. Miller!" she gasped, twisting off the raft. Dixie swam as
fast as she could across the pool, shouting as she went, "Call
the Fire Department Rescue Squad! My patio door's open!"
she told the children. One of the oldest started running for
the phone.

Dixie plunged into the pool's depths, opening her eyes. It was
deep at that end and Gerald Miller was no tiny teenager
when she finally reached him and started hauling his spasming
lanky body to the surface. She kicked through a plume of red.
::He's hit his head?:: McCall analyzed.

The side cramp biting her earlier made a comeback. Dixie
grunted bubbles, cursing. But then her hand caught the edge
of the pool's rim and her chin broke into the air. The stench of
chlorine poured into Dixie's stuffy nose and she opened her mouth,
spitting out luke warm water.

"Is my brother ok?" asked a tiny blond girl in active horror.

Dixie threw an arm over Ger's shoulder and rolled his slack
face out of the water, taking care to not jar his spine. The
teenager was unconscious now and he fountained water out
his nose and mouth when she turned him. ::Drowning.:: she
thought. Holding him still, the nurse beckoned to the kids.
"Push something over to me!" she ordered, treading water. "I need
a support surface to lie him on. Even a lounger will work."

But the chairs along the sunning area were chained to the fence.
Dixie swore. "There! Use that." and she jerked her head towards
the blue raft from which the frantic dog was barking.

Two young boys leaped in and shoved it close.

Dixie managed to get it floating perpendicular under
Ger's chest with his head splinted level in both her hands.
She didn't bother to drain him further and started right in
with a breath attempt. Ger gurgled, but his chest rose.

McCall's fingers found the groove in his neck.
::Sh*t. His pulse's almost gone.:: Dixie kept holding
the teenager's head in alignment around her jaw thrust.
She lifted rushing eyes to the panicking children surrounding
her."Kids, we gotta get him out. Now. Remember how to
do that? Like I showed ya in kidscouts.. We're gonna make
a ramp out of the pump pipe cover by the shed. All right?
Go get it! I gotta keep helping him." she said, blowing another
breath through the suffocating man's chest water.

Ger's color had grayed before her eyes by the time they
got back. "No, Ger. Keep fighting!" Dixie hissed into his ear
as she pushed air into his lungs.

The oldest boy ran back outside."The operator said that
they're on their way! I got through!"

"Terrific.." McCall grinned up at him.
She used the other children swimming around
her to keep Miller's head and back unjostled.

Between the five of them, the slippery teen slid off
the long piece of plastic onto the deck quickly. "Watch his
head. Don't move his neck around..." Dixie told the older
ones.

"He's bleeding!" cried the youngest.

"It's not real bad. Head cuts are just messy." Dixie said
automatically.

"His neck beat's gone! His neck beat's gone!" shouted
Ger's brother, knowing enough to check.

"I know. He's just gone out. Don't be scared. Now. He'll need
that CPR stuff I taught you all, so girls, dry him off your beach towels,
especially around his chest. Then nest them about him to soak up
all of this water." Dixie said rapidly, thinking ahead for future
defibrillating.

Hauling on a rope of floats, McCall flung herself out of
the pool. She scrambled over to the teen's head and
reopened an airway by lifting his jaw bone. "Michael, now take
over here. Hold his chin just like this when you give your
breaths, ok? Move nothing else. I'll start here." Dixie told the
boy, beginning compressions. "Don't be alarmed if water
squirts out after a bit. Let it come. The more of it, the better."

Dixie's cramp was a vice now, and her nose ran, so she
lifted one leg and crouched on her right foot to ease it. Already,
McCall was sweating and beads of it stung her eyes. She
glanced up as Ger's brother delivered another breath mouth
to nose. "That's fine, Mike. Give those a little deeper. Keep
going. Good job." McCall panted, keeping up her CPR.

After each pulse check, Dixie lifted her head toward the
veranda's main gate listening acutely for the sound of sirens.

Dixie McCall reached down yet again to the drowned teenager's
throat after another long minute. Her chilled fingers found a thready
carotid. "Michael! Trade places with me. He's got a pulse.
Hold his head still, in between your knees, as I keep ventilating
him." she requested, keeping in line stabilization with her hold
on his airway. "Keep talking to him, hon. He's in trouble but he can
still hear us."

Stuttering nervously, Michael leaned down to his brother's ear.
"Ger. I promise I won't tell anyone what you did in the house.
Just wake up, ok? Dad's gonna be so mad you jumped head
first into the shallow end like we're not supposed to."

McCall looked up at the nine year old, about to ask him what
that house comment had meant, when the wail of sirens and
squealing tires heralded a paramedic squad's arrival.

It was 51's.

"Johnny! Roy! Non-breathing, but with a pulse now!
He was under, I'm guessing,.. less than two minutes."

DeSoto and Gage flew into the yard, 02 tank clattering, with a
police officer in tow, lugging the defibrillator and a backboard.

"Officer, set those by his head." Johnny ordered. Then he
wrapped a thick cervical collar around Ger's neck without
getting in the way of Dixie's mouth to mouth resuscitation.

Roy moved immediately to kick the drying blankets the children
had used out of the way. "Dixie? We thought the address was
familiar."

"Sorry for scaring you fellas but this was pressing.." she replied,
delivering another breath to the boy carefully.

Johnny felt the teen's distended stomach. "This getting in
the way?"

"More and more."

Gage got busy setting up the demand valve to take
over for the nearly exhausted nurse.

Roy finished hooking up the EKG monitor and he put the
defibrillator on charged standby. Then he set up the
biophone's antennae and began a hail. "Rampart, this
is Rescue 5..1.."

##Go ahead, 51## answered Brackett over the line.

"Rampart, we have a male approximately fourteen
years of age. Victim of an apparent diving accident."

Dix waggled her head in agreement at Roy's guess
at mechanism of injury as she accepted the positive
pressure mask from Gage and began using it.

Johnny flung open the I.V. box and grabbed out what
he needed rapidly.

Roy continued his report. "...He's been under active
resuscitation, non-breathing now, but with a regained
pulse following CPR. He's on 15 liters of assisted O2.
Spinal precautions have been taken. Please stand by
for the vital signs." He set the phone onto his shoulder
as he tore pieces of IV tape off a dispenser to stick
in rows onto his leg.

##Standing by, 51.##

McCall rattled off Ger's pulse and its quality, and
his consciousness level."120 and thready. No reaction
to pain. Pupils, reactive, but sluggish."

DeSoto nodded, getting a quick B/P while Johnny
did a rapid head to toe survey after listening to
the boy's breath sounds via scope. "I'm getting rales
bilaterally." he said.

"He took in a lot of water.." Dixie confirmed catching
her breath back as she used the ventilator on their
patient.

Gage went on. "Negative Babinski's." he said after
he ran a pair of forceps points up the bottom's
of both of the teenager's feet.

Dixie sighed in relief. "One point in his favor.."

Gage rewrapped the stethoscope around his neck. He
peered at the blood oozing from the boy's temple.
"This looks minor. There's no depression." Then he
looked for cerebral spinal fluid out the ears and nose.
"No CSF, Roy."

"Ok, Johnny. Better call out for the engine. His B/P's
sixty over P."

Gage jerked his head in affirmation and grabbed
his walkie talkie. "L.A., This is Squad 51."

##Squad 51.##

"Respond Engine 51 for medical assistance to
our location."

## 10-4, Squad 51. Time out, 12:51.##

Everyone ignored the broadcast tones over the
frequency, double echoed through the squad's
Motorola Converta-com and the HT as Captain
Stanley acknowledged the run and gave an ETA.

Dixie felt a wave of fatigue. "Johnny, I'm tired." she
shivered. "I gotta give it up."

"All right." Gage said, eyeing her up, a little
self conscious because of Dixie's skimpy
made-for-the-sun, two piece bikini. "Rescuing's
hard work. Why don't you..uh,, wrap up, sit
down and rest a while. We got it."

The motorcop smoothly took over teenager's
mechanical ventilations.

Dixie barely felt the kids throw a flannel quilt over
her shoulders, offering her their gratitude with timid
pats and hugs as she parked on a lounger by
the edge of the swimming pool. McCall shook her
head, thinking out loud. Then she snapped her
fingers. " Amy Miller, can you go get that consent
form your mother's got hanging on the frig? These
firemen are gonna need it to give Ger some
medication."

"Ok, Dixie. I'll be right back, Ger!" cried the tiny
child before she ran off.

DeSoto got his first orders.

##51, Start an I.V. Normal Saline with an insulin
drip. I'm gonna assume he was coding longer than
two minutes. I want to terminate any catecholamine
release effects before they complicate things for us.
Go ahead and administer 1.0 mg Lidocaine IV push
to control any intracranial pressure he might have from
that possible head injury. Prepare to insert an esophageal
airway and send me a strip. Add 1 mg Sodium Bicarb,
then turn his drip to TKO. Let me know when you've
secured your airway. ##

"10-4, Rampart. I.V. Normal Saline with insulin, Lidocaine
and Sodium Bicarb. This'll be lead 2."

The reassuring sound of the Ward Pumper's deeper siren grew
then fell away with the bark of her airhorn.

##L.A. Engine 51's on scene.## came Stoker's transmission.

##10-4, Engine 51. Time is 12:55.## replied L.A. Dispatch.

The pool kids, except Michael, went running to fetch the
other firemen to show them the way.

Roy lifted his HT. "Cap, we'll need all hands and
the spare O2. Active resus."

##10-4, HT 51.##

Ger suddenly started to seize and his stomach rippled.

Gage startled. "Is he vomiting?" he asked the police
man, with his hands full of supplies.

"No, there's nothing here yet. ....But.."

"But what?" Roy asked, impatient.

"I..don't think I'm getting a chest rise anymore.." the
officer admitted. "Just started happening."

"D*mn!" Johnny swore, feeling Gerald's throat for
the beat and double checking the jaw lift. "Try
another vent again."

The cop triggered the thumb button. Despite a
tight seal over skin, the demand valve failed
to accomplish a finished breath. The officer
shook his head. "See? Just like I told ya."

Johnny flew into action. "Roy, ask for a nasogastric
tube. He's really blocked and in a convulsion from
hypoxia. His gums are blue. I wanna drain that
distension now."

Roy hurried and updated Dr. Brackett about
the new developments.

## I confirm rising tachycardia on the scope, 51.
Relieve that intragastric pressure with an NG tube
and watch for signs of an obstructed airway..##
Kel snapped crisply.

Working together, Roy and Johnny inserted a well
lubricated catheter into the teen's unbloodied
nostril and got it down past a sudden odd resistance.
Frothy pink emesis welled out of the tube's end and
onto the concrete in a noisy involuntary belch. Then
Ger's bulging stomach fell flatter than it had been.

"Ok, try him now." Gage told the policeman as
he quickly drew the tube back out again and suctioned
out the boy's nose and mouth. Difficult breaths went
in.

Stoker, Chet and Lopez immediately knew what
to do at a mere glance of the area. They shifted the
backboard until it lay flush with Ger's back as Johnny
and Roy log rolled him onto his side for more
active suctioning. Swiftly, the head block, chest, waist
and leg straps were settled and tightened into place.

Leaning down, Johnny examined the stain on the pavement.
It was sweet smelling. "Roy, he's been drinking...." he
said flatly, not happy.

DeSoto's face tightened. "He's just a kid."

"I know."

Roy picked up the phone again. "Rampart, we've
positive evidence of ETOH ingestion."

Brackett returned a long sigh of resignation
and sadness. ##10-4, Roy. Then we're all the better
for that insulin drip counteracting things."

Roy had the advanced airway prepped and gelled. "I'm
gonna need one of you for a Sellick's maneuver."
he told the gang.

"Me." Marco volunteered and he peeled off his coat
and gloves and kneeled down.

DeSoto had foregone the EOA for an endotracheal tube.
"Stoker, why don't you take over on the O2? Thanks,
Officer Palmer.." he read from the man's name tag.

"No problem." The officer stood back to begin his
incident report, allowing the more experienced firefighter
engineer to take over the task.

----------------------------------------------------------------------

Hank noticed Dixie McCall bundled up on her chair.
"So much for the day off, eh?" he grinned for her benefit.
"Nothing like a little excitement to liven up an afternoon."

Dixie just coughed at Stanley's encouraging humor
while avoiding the bright sun beating down on
her from his direction.

She felt a glove on her shoulder that made her jump.

"You ok there, Dixie?" Cap asked. "Sorry. I didn't
mean to startle you."

Dixie afforded the helmeted captain a smile.
"I'm fine. Just a little worried."

"About what?"

"About him." she gestured with her head.
"If we can't get that airway in......"

----------------------------------------------------------

A weak, choking jolt upset Roy's positioned
laryngoscope and the paramedic yanked it out
to prevent a sudden mouth injury. "Marco, keep
up that cricoid pressure, whatever you do. Johnny!"

"I'm on it! Rampart, our victim's seizures are worsening.
So's his color."

##Have you established that ET tube yet?##

"That's negative, doc. We're experiencing some jaw
clenching." Johnny sighed in frustration.

##Knock him out, 51, for a rapid sequence induction.
Point one mg's of Vecuronium IV push. That'll paralyze him
enough for you to get one inserted. Know that you'll be
completely responsible afterwards for maintaining his
airway with adequate ventilations.##

Roy, next to Johnny, gulped.

"10-- uh, 10-4, Rampart." Gage affirmed. "RSI
with .1 mg's Vecuronium IVP."

Stoker spoke up suddenly. "Gage! Laryngospasm!
I'm getting in nothing now."

"What?!" Johnny felt around Marco's Sellick hold.
He felt a foreboding rock stiff hardness surrounding
Ger's adam's apple. "Roy, ...positive on that...
Obstruction's total!"

"Rampart, standby... We've a fully obstructed airway."
DeSoto dropped the phone.

##Push the Vecuronium, now! Double it if you have to!##
commanded Kel. ## The increase may help your clearing
attempts..##

Johnny straddled the dripping immobilized teen while Kelly
hastily undid just the abdominal straps of the longboard,
allowing Gage access to Ger's lower abdomen. The paramedic
delivered four sharp upward thrusts under the teenager's diaphragm
with both hands while Stoker and Chet pinned the boy's head
and neck still.

Roy sent the muscle paralyzer into Ger's high flowing I.V.
and hung it dangling on the fence. "It's in. Is it working?"
he looked to Mike Stoker.

The engineer shook his head and demonstrated the 02
gushing out around the mask quickly with some triggering.

Johnny tried a few more abdominal thrusts. Then he
scrambled to Ger's head with a long shafted pair of
Magil forceps in his teeth. He used a jaw screw to open
the shaking teen's mouth to get at the deeper part of his
throat. The lengthy, scissors like instrument was guided
down, but stopped short only along half its usable length.
Gage grimaced as he probed, biting onto a pen light
so he could see what he was doing. "There's nothing
here, Roy. I'm not seeing any vocal cords. It's gotta
be just a laryngospasm. These aren't threading down."
he said of his Magil forceps.

DeSoto nodded, licking dry lips. "Second dose then,
ready?"

Gage nodded, backing off so Stoker could use
the demand valve yet again.

Roy injected a small orange labelled syringe into
the rubber intravenous delivery port deftly. "It's in!"

Stoker and Johnny struggled to offset the teenager's
cyanosis with some chest rise, but they were
unsuccessful, no matter what they thought to try.

-----------------------------------------------------------------

In the base station, Brackett eyed the running EKG strip
and became ansy. He had to force himself not to interrupt
his hard-at-work men just for an update.

-----------------------------------------------------------------

A dragging minute passed under the firemen's
sweaty exertions. Then Stoker detected a relaxing
jaw. "He's loose.." and then he started to force as many
feebly reaching ventilations as he could into the boy's
lungs. He kept it up until the ominous dark blue began to
fade from Ger's face and lower extremities.

Johnny snatched up the abandoned endotracheal tube
that Roy had left on the teenager's chest and said,
"Hyperventilate him a minute more, Mike. Then move
aside."

Stoker nodded.

Roy lifted the phone. "Rampart, our victim's still
partially obstructed and we can't find what it is.
The paralytic agent's beginning to work, but we're getting
vents into him only with difficulty. Johnny's attempting
another intubation. Both the boy's work of breathing and
his seizures, are now absent." Roy reported, seeing
a quiet, fully drugged stillness, settle over his patient.

Kel let out the breath he was holding. ##Avoid any
stimulus that'll trigger V-fib. He's sensitive to that
now.##

Gage accidently poked the back of Ger's soft palate
with the ET tube as he was visualizing for his vocal
cords.

Roy's head shot up when the EKG monitor warbled
an arrythmia alarm. "Brady! Back off, Johnny!"

Gage froze and yanked out the tube, digging for
a carotid artery in the boy's neck with his other hand.
"...Stupid! ..I'm ...stupid...." he grunted.

DeSoto flew to the open drug case when the
boy's cardiac rate continued to sink into the forties.
"Rampart!"

## I see it, 51. Point five milligrams Atropine. Speed
him back up again. What I'm seeing here, is vaso vagal
in origin. It's not an adverse Vecuronium reaction.##

The betablocker soon boosted Ger's heartrate back up
into the low, irregular seventies. Everyone sighed in relief.

## D/C trying the endotrach. I'm authorizing an immediate
needle cricothyrotomy.## Brackett went on..

Gage tossed the ET tube aside.

##....Set up your supplies. Have your head man keep
hyperventilating your victim as best he can. Roy,
you've told me in the past that you've done one of
these before ..in Nam. You've got the ball once again.##

"10-4, Rampart." Roy replied back, wiping sweat off his lip.

Johnny was a pure professional. He wasn't offended in
the least for being asked to step down during a primary
treatment action. He wanted a resolution to the problem
too badly to even care. He un-papered an adapter to a
7.5 mm sized ET tube, a 10 ml syringe, and a 14 gauge
needle catheter.

Reaching down, he slid a finger on a free hand over the hard
thyroid cartilage running down the midline of Ger's throat until
he found the soft depression of the cricoid membrane. "Ok,
Marco. Keep his trachea from moving around and put
one fingertip,.....here.." And he guided Marco's index finger
to a precise spot on the teenager's sweaty skin. "Mark
that landmark and don't lose it.."

"Believe me, I won't..." Lopez admitted eagerly.

"Ok, Roy. We're ready for you." Johnny said looking
up, screwing together the puncture lancet."Lopez has
got the trachea splinted." Then Gage handed the whole
rigging over to his much calmer partner.

DeSoto spoke. "Johnny, could you draw up a mil of
water into the syringe for me, please? I gotta trick
I like to use."

Johnny nodded. "Stoker, is he adequately oxygenated yet?"
he said, filling Roy's needle with a pull of its plunger into
another unused, sterile IV bag.

"As best as he's able. His pupils are still reacting but he's
a little too cold now to judge by his color."

Gage fitted the syringe back into place into the guiding
shaft, curious as to what purpose Roy was going to use
it for. ::Not for med absorption into the lungs, Kel hasn't
ordered any ET drugs yet.:: he thought.

DeSoto took over pressing a finger on the landmark Marco
was guarding. Then he moved his fingertip just enough to
place the point of the needle directly over the membrane
he could feel. He angled the syringe, end down at
a forty five towards Ger's feet, and advanced the needle
into the skin, all the while aspirating the plunger upwards
with his pinky and ring fingers. He stopped instantly when
the upward welling suctioning drew up pearling air bubbles.
He smiled. "I'm in the trachea.." he announced.

Roy slid a 3mm endo tube catheter inside the syringe and
threaded it until it was well into the air passage below,
angled downwards. He withdrew the long needle, passing
it off to Cap to dispose of into the sharps bin.

Johnny flew into action once again. "Ah, now I see what the
water was for.." he said, listening to the teen's chest as
DeSoto fitted the ET adapter's syringe and catheter's end
onto a high flow oxygen circulating ambu bag. "A better visual."

"Yep." DeSoto blinked.

Lopez helped Roy tape the inserted tenuous airway to
Ger's throat amply and then he took sole charge of
stabilizing it with both hands so that it didn't budge
a single centimeter out of place.

"You're pure cement, Marco." Gage ordered.

"Solid, man. This is going nowhere." he said,
watching Stoker rapidly make up for lost
ventilating time. "How's he doing now?" the
hispanic fireman asked, marveling at the heavy
bag's ability to work through such a slender tube.

Johnny took the listening ports of the stethoscope
out of his ears. "He's got minimal chest rise. But it's
enough to keep him alive until we get to the hospital.
Nice work, pal." he grinned. "Thanks everyone."

"Mike, I'll break you." Roy said. "I know just how
to get the most inside without distension happening.
It's a narrow band force of pressure with this sized catheter.
It's just like a newborn's.."

"I'll learn it for next time.." said Stoker as he traded places
with DeSoto.

Johnny picked up the phone. "Rampart, we have an airway.."

##Congratulations, guys. Now get him in here. I want a vitals
set every five minutes in route. Keep vigilant for good or bad
lung sounds, any sign of expanding hematomas, or subcutaneous
air under the skin. ##

"10-4. We're on our way, Rampart. The ambulance has just
arrived.." Gage said with a smile.

That smile fell away when Dixie McCall suddenly sagged
backwards from where she was seated out of her blanket.
She tumbled limply into the pool when Hank Stanley failed
to catch her in time. "Dixie?!" Johnny yelled.

------------------------------------------------------------------

Cap started to get out of his turnout and helmet to go
after her when Gage shouted. "I got her!" He swan dived
into the shallows.

Very quickly, Dixie McCall was conveyed to the surface
and to the edge by many hands. She was lifted up, set
onto the ground and rolled onto her back.

"Dix?" Johnny shook her firmly, monitoring her carotid.
He wiped streaming water away from her nose and
mouth as she began coughing and moaning.

McCall was almost as white as her alabaster swimsuit.

"She's ok.." Gage told the others. Stoker jogged over
with the engine's O2 apparatus. "I think this's just an
episode of syncope, she's waking up already." he
said. "Let's move her to one of those chairs and
get her wrapped up before you start her on that Mike."

Roy looked up from where he and Marco were
still watching and working on Ger. "Johnny?! What's
the problem?"

"I don't know yet!" he shouted, letting Stoker, Cap
and Kelly transfer Dixie from the concrete to a
head raised sunchair. "Let me check her out."
he coughed. "Keep packaging him for transport.
I'll call a second ambulance for her if I have to."

Cap reaffirmed Johnny's plan, setting an oxygen
mask over McCall's nose and mouth. "That's
gonna be the call." He waved on Stoker to notify
L.A. of their need for an additional Mayfair or
Cadillac. "I don't like her breathing rate. It's labored."

"Umm hmm, something's definitely going on here.."
Johnny agreed. "Dix, can you hear me?"

She didn't answer past a few groans.

Chet Kelly continued to try to get a legible verbal
response out of the nurse while Johnny got a B/P
off her arm.

The children were scared but they stayed out of the
way, remaining maturely silent.

Gage saw that Roy was ready to go. "You keep
the biophone."

"She stable?"

"Yeah. Her B/P's no longer low. Take Marco with you for
that airway support. Kelly can follow me in the squad
later after the other ambulance gets here."

Roy was a bulldog. "Use a landline, ok? The kids can
bring out a phone to you for you to use for her." DeSoto
said, shuffling along behind the gurney leading attendants,
carrying the defibrillator and the drug box.

"I know. I know.. Just go already. The sooner you leave,
the sooner I'll find out some answers on her. Don't
worry...I'll contact ya on HT as soon as I find out anything."
Gage grumbled.

"No, I'll do that.." Cap promised.

"All right." Roy replied, waving the ambulance men
on again. "I'm going..."

Johnny paid no more attention to him as Ger was carted
off Code Three to Rampart Hospital.

----------------------------------------------------------------------
Cap and Johnny turned back from watching Roy
hustle away to find Chet inexplicably armed with a mug
of steaming coffee, which he was waving underneath Dixie's
nose near the O2 mask on blow by so that she could
smell it.

Dixie sputtered, shifting her head from side to side.

"Kelly, cut that out this instant!" Hank boomed.

Gage gave out an exasperated shout of mild disgust and he grabbed
the cup away from Kelly. "Chet, would you knock it off!? Where did you
get such a crazy idea in the first place?!" he demanded, gently
replacing the mask as McCall's eyes fluttered open.

"From them.." Chet shrugged.

"Yeah," said the oldest child standing nearby. "It was my idea.
We do this coffee trick all the time when Miss McCall won't wake
up after sunbathing. She told us to so she wouldn't ever be late
for work."

"Well kids, I hate to break it to ya, but today is Dixie's DAY ..OFF!
Thanks for all your help. We got it from here. Now, sCRAMMM!"
Gage exploded.

The children, all three dogs,..and the caretaker's cat, took fright
and all of them ran away as fast as they could with screams, barks
and a yowl.

"That wasn't very smart." Hank interjected when the noise died away.

"Huh?" Gage double taked. "Why not? They're out of our hair..Unlike
some people.." he glared at Chet.

"We don't have our outside phone yet, you twit." Cap said, smacking
Johnny lightly on the back of the head for emphasis on the word, "twit."

"I'll get it." said Stoker. "I think I remember a phone being in the pool
party hut from last year. It most likely has a cord on it long enough to
reach us.."

Johnny didn't even hear him. "I'm not the twit. Chet's the twit.. Geesh,
Cap. Think about it. Reviving someone with coffee fumes? Now I've
seen it all." He kept glaring at Kelly. "Just what were you thinking?"
he asked Chet sarcastically.

"It worked, didn't it? She's almost speaking." Chet countered.
"At least java's kinder on the old nostrils than an ammonia capsule.
I should know. You've used enough of em on me as the Phantom
in the middle of the night when I was still sleeping..."

Hank just rolled his eyes and asked L.A. for the ETA on Dixie's
ambulance.

"No...ambulance.." coughed Dixie, sitting a little straighter in
her chair. A flush of growing embarrassment was staining her cheeks
and erasing all of her remaining questionable clinical signs red tagging
problems. "I'm......fine, fellas. Really!" she protested, peeling off her
oxygen firmly. 'I'm awake, I'm aware.. I know who I am, where I am and
what happened....I'm not going anywhere.." she hissed with a little of
her normal heavy guns tone. "If I see that hospital one more time this
week, I'll rip all my hair out for sure.." she promised.

Johnny tossed his paramedic's notepad that he had been
writing in over a shoulder and threw his hands up, rubbing his face
in exasperation. "I don't believe this is happening, Cap.." he whined.
"We gotta get her t--"

Hank held up his palms. "Now, Gage, you know the law as well as
I do. The little lady's obviously fully cognizant enough, legally, to decide
what's best for hers----"

"Little lady?!" Dixie fumed.

Hank shrank in his overcoat. "Sorry. Poor choice of words? To me,
everybody's little." commented the lanky fire captain sheepishly.
"I apologize if I offended you but the important thing right now
is finding out whether or not you're really ok. We can hash over
how this is being handled afterwards, all right?"

Dixie drew up a glare. "Cancel that Mayfair, Hank. I have a cold....
That's all." she said dangerously.

Cap felt the back of his neck smoking from the strength of her
ire. "Ok.. canceling. ." he said reasonably and fully respectful
of her wish to end the medical call. "Gage, she's allllll yoourrsss."

"Thanks, Cap.." Johnny was thrilled. Not.

"Kelly," Cap barked. "...let's give them a little earshot distance.
Come on, pal.."

"Aww, Cap. I wanna stay and help out.." Chet whined.

"Now, Chet!" Stanley snapped.

"...coming..." Kelly peeped.

The two firemen packed up the O2 and turned for the direction
of the Ward just as Mike Stoker came panting up with the private
phone rigged onto a bright orange extension cord. "I got it..
Hang on while I dial o--"

Stanley didn't even bother to turn around. "Jolly well. The
gang's all here. Now put it back. I guess she's a refusal, Stoker."

"What?"

"Is there something wrong with your ears or mine, Mike." Cap
snarled.

"Mine, Cap." Stoker bellied up.

"Fine. Clean up this mess around here and cancel the second
ambulance while you're at it." He began to tromp away. "Oh,"
he said, retracing his tracks. "You're deaf to those two for the
next minute or so.." he said tossing a hand at Dixie and Gage.

"I sure will be.." chirped Stoker, recognizing a pending bit of
paramedic hardball to come when he saw it. He stooped only
long enough to use a water puddle to wash off some blood
after he had policed the area free of medical run fallout. Then
he was gone, with Cap being his bigger shadow.

--------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Gage willfully stopped drumming his frustrated fingernails on the
arm of Dixie's poolside chair. He laced his hands together in an
unconvincing show of amenability. "Ok.." he smiled, falsely fake.
"Now where were we?" he purred, ..tightly.

"Talking about how normal I am right now.." Dixie said, crossing
her arms together.

"I wouldn't call keeling over backwards into a swimming
pool in a dead faint, quite normal, Dixie. Quite the opposite."
he growled.

"Look..." Dixie purred, just as deadly serious. "I just got
done with twenty five solid minutes of aggressive, rapid CPR."
Would you still be normal after doing that?" she fired back at him.

Johnny gaped like a fish, then he pursed his lips, scratching
his head. "Well...." he admitted, his voice sliding up a few notes
on a scale. 'I-- uh, I'll give you that...... particular point."

"Good! Then go away cause I'm telling you, I'm perfectly--"
Dixie sneezed and immediately, she gasped, grabbing
her stomach.

"Oh, really?" Gage moved in for the kill. "That was normal,
eh?.. Come on, Dix. Let me see your stomach!" Johnny said,
reaching out for palpating check.

McCall whipped up the blanket to her chin, deflecting
Johnny's hands as she resumed her angry stare.
"Touch me, and I swear I'll bite your hand off!
Today is gonna be all MINE!" she yelled, barely
keeping it below a quiet roar.

--------------------------------------------------------------
"Is there a problem here?" came an authoritative
voice.

Both the battling Dixie and Gage looked up, kinda
startled for a moment. They had forgotten about
the cop being there. And his report.

"No..no.."
"Nope. Not at all." they both stuttered.

"We're through.." said Dixie firmly. Johnny said
the same words, meekly obedient. "We're through,
officer.. uh,...I guess.."

"Okay, then you wouldn't mind if I go over a few
details with Miss McCall here about the Miller boy.
That's if.. you found that she's still medically ABLE to.."
the police officer hinted.

"I AM." Dixie punctuated, dismissing Johnny with
a wave.

Johnny cleared his throat uncomfortably. "Go right
ahead, officer." Gage postured, backing away and
wrapping up his stethoscope.

He fired off one last glare at her when the cop wasn't looking.
"You call us back if ANY of those symptoms return. Understood?!"
he hissed, stabbing down a finger at the air. That gesture
immediately turned into a farewell wave when the police man
glanced up at Johnny with a disapproving raised eyebrow.

Dixie celebrated. "Mother's keeper.." And then she stuck out
her tongue at him. "In...your....dreams..."

------------------------------------------------------------------------

So, having chalked up one save and another one as unresolved,
Station 51 tucked their tails back between their legs and
left the neighborhood. The engine returned to base as unavailable
and the squad remained 10-7 to Rampart until everyone was
freed up from their mutual responsibilities.

Gage continued to pore over Dixie's symptoms.

"Maybe I should let one of the docs know about her." he mumbled
to Chet on the way back.

"I wouldn't if I were you. You still have to WORK with Dixie later on,
man. Do you really want to face her once she's over that cold
of hers?"

---------------------------------------------------------------------------------

It was an hour later, not long after the Miller boy had been
stabilized cardiac wise from respiratory acidosis. He had gone
on to Broncoscopy for a thorough check on the extent of the
alveoli damage that he sustained from his aspiration of
chlorinated pool water into both his lungs.

Kel was very happy with the teenager's labwork, C spine
and chest x-ray films. He was being kept under the paralytic
agent to thwart another surprise occurance of intubation
laryngospasm. The boy had been reunited with his family
and things looked good on the EEG. Dr. Brackett was almost
certain that no brain damage took place while he had been
arrested. ::Helps that someone was there to work on his resuscitation
so quickly.:: he theorized. ::My gut feeling on his neurological status
will just be confirmed when he wakes up tomorrow morning.::

That line of thinking reminded Kel yet again of his short,
revealing conversation with Roy DeSoto about Dixie McCall.

The four firemen from 51's had gone back to the station as soon
as they were freed from the Miller kid's care and paperwork,
jammed together in the rescue squad. He had wished that
he could've talked to Johnny Gage directly about his head nurse's
symptomatic findings, but he had been too tied up with his
teenaged patient's surgical intubation procedure.

Kelly Brackett excused himself from the Emergency Department
floor, letting Carol know that he'd be in his office for a few minutes.
His simple nod and gesture toward its ornately polished dark oaken
door guaranteed that Carol would indeed notify him the moment
another patient case announced itself either by paramedic biophone
or via the waiting room.

The babble of hospital activity was mercifully muffled when he
shut the door behind himself. Kel Brackett immediately went
to the olive green phone on the desk.

His fingers danced over a familar sequence of numbers on
the rotary dial and he impatiently sat through four telephone
rings before he finally heard a sleepy voice pick up. "Dix?
It's Kel." he began. "Talk to me."

He heard a tired groan on the other end of the line followed by
a tight cough and a rustling of blankets when McCall's gravelly
voice finally addressed him. "...hmm. Kel? For Pete's sake, what
time is it?"

"Time for your attending physician to get some answers pronto."
he said firmly. "Just what were you thinking when you sent the
paramedics away following your little stunt nose diving into
your apartment complex's swimming pool?"

In a point assuredly in her favor in Dr. Brackett's book, Dixie
McCall immediately got angry. "Give me one good reason why
I shouldn't hang up on you right now, Kel Brackett. I was sleeping
soundly for the first time in..."

"Roy DeSoto. He was worried enough about you to let me know
what had happened to you in the Treatment Room after your neighbor
was brought in." Brackett fired back.

"That b*st*rd!" and there was a silence on the other end of the phone.
" Whatever happened to patient/paramedic confidentiality?! I didn't know
Johnny Gage was such an irritating example of a gossiping SOB!"

"Pipe down! He only did his job like any paramedic worth his salt
should've done. He notified his attending medical director of a potential
medical problem. The fact that he did it through his partner's a moot point
and you know it."

Dixie quieted down, thinking of her unexpected rescue victim. "How's
Ger doing?" she asked, sitting up in bed, smothering up a wince so
it wouldn't be apparent vocally.

The lamp turning on in her darkened bedroom did more than just stab into her
eyes.
It brought on the mother of all headaches and a wave of unexpected
deep nausea which the nurse fought down by putting a hand to her mouth.

She bore through Kel's ire bravely.

"I'll get to Gerald Miller as soon as I know that YOU'RE all right. If you
were symptomatic enough to red flag Roy and Johnny, you automatically
red flag me. So again, I say, talk to me.." he said no nonsense.

Dixie sighed, pulling a waste can full of used tissue and half eaten cough
drops into her lap. "There isn't much to say, Kel. What's so unusual about
having a stomach virus?"

"When did that come on?"

"Yesterday morning at work."

"What are your symptoms and vital signs?"

"Oh come off it, Kel. Quit being a mother hen. I'm not a hypochondriac
to take notes on every little incidence of the sniffles."

"Humor me."

"Kel....no." she spat tightly. "This is my day off, and it's gonna stay that
way.
We're not going to be getting together over dinner tonight. No police officer's
gonna stop by for more details on Ger's drowning. And no pesky off duty
paramedic is gonna come calling to my front door. Nada. End of story.
I know my rights as an ex-emergency medical patient."

"What about my rights as your closest friend? Does that matter any?
Forget about my white coat, Dix. That and my stethoscope are still
hanging up on the hat rack across the room!" he boomed.

McCall sighed, resting her head onto her bare knees. "I'm sorry, Kel.
I get cranky with colds. When I get them.." she bemoaned.

"Oh, so now you're telling me that you've got a cold and not a stomach
bug. Which is it?"

"I don't know.. and I don't care. All I want is twenty four hours uninterrupted
down time as is due me on my off day. Is that such an unreasonable request?
The fact that Ger Miller's accident interceded has absolutely no bearing on
the issue!"

"You're right, Dix. It doesn't." Kel agreed rapidly, toning down the frustration
in his voice. "And thank you for being there. He's gonna make it with flying
colors.."

"Paralysis?"

"None. His films are clear."

"Coma?"

"There're no signs. You guys were absolutely amazing with keeping him
one hundred percent oxygenated. Just be grateful to Brantigan and Grow for
Roy's military needle cric technique that he so kindly shared with me during
the last paramedics meeting. Miller's already been decannulated and
there's no indication of any subglottic stenosis at all. Now enough about him."

"Kel, read my lips, or at least listen to them. Go away. I'm fine. I'll call
you after sundown in an update. Just keep Johnny and Roy outta my hair
tonight and I'll think about staying your best friend. Good night or good
afternoon and good riddance!" and she slammed her elegant white and
gold Victorian phone receiver down and cut off the connection.

Kel Brackett winced at the vigorous slam of noise into his ear. He
held the phone in his palm for a few seconds, half considering calling
Dixie back again. :: Do I have the right to bother her any more? She
sounds like she knows what she's doing. And I'll get my second phone
call in five hours.:: he thought, looking at his watch.

McCall barely made it to the bathroom in time before vomiting and
suffering a bout of miserable diarrhea. "Oh, god I hate the flu bug.."
she groaned. Long minutes later, wet from the shower and naked,
Dixie crawled back into bed and pulled the covers over her head.

Making a decision, Dr. Brackett decided candor was the better part of
valor and he dialed the number out to Station 51.

-----------------------------------------------------------------------------------

"Los Angeles County Fire Department, this is Fireman Mike Stoker.
Can I help you?" Mike glanced up, "Gage. It's for you. It's Brackett."

"It is?" he said, his mouth full of burger. "It's about time I heard from
him. Roy, did I ever tell you I love you for spilling the beans about Dix's
little fainting stunt to him?"

"No. But I think you can refrain from expressing yourself. Joanne
might get a little jealous." DeSoto quipped.

Johnny jogged to the phone, dodging around all the gangs' shoulders
in his hurry to cut physical corners to reach the doctor. "Dr. Brackett?
Johnny Gage."

"Gage. I talked with her."

"And?"

"And...there's nothing more I can do at the moment. She's adamant about
refusing to see me or any other doctor for her illness."

"That's sheer craziness, doc." Johnny said, spitting out his mouthful of
burger into a napkin. "She's gotta be seen sometime. You weren't there.
I was. She was paler than anything once I rolled her face out of the
water."

"Did she breathe any of that in?"

"No. She woke up too fast for that."

"Did her BP stay bottomed out?"

"No. It got back up into the low hundreds."

"And that was sitting up, right?"

"Yeah, doc. Look. Now you know as much as I do. So
bottom line. Are ya gonna do anything about her?"

"I can't. Not by law."

"I'm going over there."

"No you aren't. You'll only get hauled off for
trespassing. Dixie mentioned something to that effect."

Gage threw up his hands. "Wonderful. Now how are we gonna
have any guarantees that she's all right?"

"I sort of got one."

"How...?" Gage asked sarcastically.

"She's gonna call me at sundown with an update."

"Fair enough. I'll call off Roy, too, from going over there only so
long as we hear from you as soon as you hear from her."

"Consider that a promise."

"Thanks, doc."

"No problem. I'll hear from you next rescue call. I got
the floor from lunch time through the rest of the night."

"Bye, Doctor Brackett. Talk to you then."

Johnny hung up the phone.

He wandered back over to his chair and sat down,
ignoring the bowl of potato salad that Chet pushed over
to his end of the table to cheer him up.

Cap inquired finally. "So, how's she doing? Is she gonna
get checked out?"

"No."

Roy looked up from his lunch. "You're kidding."

"Wish I was, pally. Kel just made me promise that
you and I won't stop by over there in between calls."

"On the strength of what guarantee?!" Chet whined.

"On the fact that Dixie's promised to keep phone tabs with
him every couple of hours."

"And Kel Brackett bought that line of malarkey?" Cap
sighed sarcastically.

"Yep." Johnny said, balling up his napkin and tossing
it onto his plate in irritation.

Roy had some input. "You know, fellas, this could be a case of
personal feelings getting in the way. Those two did date once
you know. Maybe they're dating again. It could explain the doc's
lack of medical bulldog tenacity because it concerns someone
he truly cares about. He doesn't want to offend her."

"That's just stupid, Roy. If you were Dixie right now, being sick
and all, stepping on eggshells is the last thing I'd be doing
about you. I'd be busting down your door with a full med kit."
Johnny interjected loudly.

"I don't think it'll come to that." DeSoto grinned reasonably.
"After all, Dixie's a veteran registered nurse of twenty years.
She'd never let an illness go on untreated if it were truly serious."

"I'm still not comfortable." Gage said, narrowing his eyes.

"Neither am I." said Chet, fully in agreement. "I think we should
go around the both of them and let Joe Early in on this. No one
will be held accountable if he's the one who suddenly shows up
on Dixie's doorstep. He's gotta go over there tonight anyway."

"How so, Kelly?" Marco asked.

"To deliver a box of tickets for the Fireman's Annual Picnic
Event. Dixie's one of the primary sellers this year since Gage
didn't come forward and volunteer himself for it like he did
for last year's."

"Why should I have? I'm a rotten seller." Johnny defended.

"Ummm hmm, but you're too good a paramedic not to
meddle with a friend who might be in trouble and I'm too
good a fireman to let someone burn themselves unnecessarily.
I'm gonna go call Joe right now." he said, getting up. "Look, you
two have done your job, and so has Dr. Brackett. It's now my
turn to go to bat. Calling Joe'll only take a minute. Excuse me.
And Gage, if you touch my burger, you're dead meat.."
Chet warned as he dialed the phone without turning around.

The others laughed when Johnny snatched his creeping hand
back into his lap.

Roy leaned over the table. "This sorta compromises the patient
paramedic confidentiality thing. You feel good about Chet
getting Dr. Early involved, Cap?"

"You bet your *ss I do. Somebody's gotta take a stand. Cause who's
gonna watch out for Dixie's, if we don't?" Hank replied, biting into a
potato chip.

------------------------------------------------------------------------------
Dixie McCall awoke to a full darkness, broken
only by the pale moonlight streaming in through
the lacy curtains of her bedroom window. Her bleary
fever dry eyes, made out the time on her nightstand
clock. 00:38. She tried to move, in a reach for a
half full, luke warm water glass, when the sharp belly pain
doubled her up making her grab around both knees,
in a surge of choking nausea.

"Owww..." she moaned. "Ok, enough's enough.." she
grunted, half sobbing. She hugged herself under the
blankets in suffering, burning agony. "I give up. I give in.
I'm going to see a doctor. I promise....Just...just
ease up and let me dress." she said to her stomach.

Her belly pain, had moved. It was now pinpointed, in a
spot between her right hip bone and her navel.

She frowned, unable to make the significant connection
with that new finding. Her mind was too muddled.

Dixie had pulled on pants over her pajama shorts and had
snatched up her car keys from the dresser,
when the pain toppled her onto the rug.

She lay there, curled in a ball, soundless, as wave after
wave of pure agony swept over her. Her bedroom
furniture and the moonlit ceiling blurred. "No, not gonna
black out. Oh, boy. Kel's never gonna forgive me for
trying to wait it out." she cried, leaking tears of misery.

Dixie crawled trembling fingers across the rug until they
reached the phone cord trailing from the Victorian receiver on
her nightstand. With a jerk, she pulled the phone down
from the table. It clattered in a tangle of cord around
her head. "...ohhh..hhh..." McCall moaned, dragging
the phone and its hand held receiver to her face.

She dialed seven numbers, leaving the phone tipped
over sideways, out to the only number she could remember
entirely.

A male voice came on the other end of the line, questioning,
and concerned, when Dixie didn't answer.

Dixie passed out close to the receiver, where her strained
breathing could be heard clearly, in fevered distress.

The time was 00:51.

***************************************************************
From: "wone3" J.Wilds
Date: Wed Oct 27, 2004 1:40 pm
Subject: The Call out

The number Dixie remembered and dialed was Station 51 and
she had been really lucky as the whole station was just returning
from a vacant house fire with no injuries to be transported that had
occupied all of them for the last hour or so.

Mike Stoker had just pulled the engine in place and raced to pick up
the phone beating Captain Stanley to it.

He heard the distressed breathing on the other end and when he tried
to get the person to talk, he received no answer from the other
end. "Can you please tell me who you are? " he said into the phone.

Suddenly, Johnny realized that they hadn't heard anything about Dixie
since being called out for the coaster incident. "Do you think it is
her?" he said aloud. "Ask the person if it is Dixie." he said.

Mike called into the phone, "Dixie, Miss McCall is that you?" He
heard a quiet groan on the other end.

Roy, who was right beside the receiver heard the groan, too, and grew
concerned that it might be Dixie.

Roy called over to the Captain, "Cap, can you call us in a silent
alarm for Dixie's place? We should go check it out to be sure. Could
you also call over to the hospital? Doctors Brackett and Early will
want to know what's going on, we promised to keep them in the loop as
they promised us."

Cap reassured them that the docs would be called as he hurried to
call the alarm into dispatch. "Dispatch this is Station 51, calling
in a silent alarm for squad 51 to 213 Elm Street, Apartment 6."

Dispatch answered, ##10-4…. Squad 51, time out, 00:51.##

Captain answered, "10-4, KMG 365." He went over to the squad with
the call slip as the guys were waiting in it. Marco ran over to open the
bay door for the squad to exit.

Cap told the guys, "Be careful, but get there quickly. We'll make the
call. If you need to take her in, you can stay available from the
hospital. Call us once you find out anything though, OK?"

Both Johnny and Roy echoed, "We will, Cap, and thanks." They
then sped out of the bay on a speed trip to Dixie's apartment.

***********************************************************************
From: "Patti Keiper"

On the way, with lights and siren running, Roy DeSoto
had a thought. "Johnny, do you think we'll need PD for
this call? We might freak out a lot of Dixie's neighbors
if we force our way into her place without alerting em
ahead of time."

Johnny let out a big sigh, crumpling up the address slip.
"It is the middle of the night, and you know how we need
the police for most of our other calls like this. I'll raise em
on the horn." said Gage with a nod. He lifted the mic,
"L.A., this is Squad 51."

##Go ahead, 51.##

"Send out a squad car to our silent alarm's location. We may
need official authorization for a break in." he said and then he
hung up the microphone head onto its spigot.

##10-4, 51. LAPD says their ETA is fifteen minutes.##

"What?!" Johnny said in exclamation. "That's sheer craziness!
What if Dixie's condition's serious? We can't wait that long just
hanging about outside her patio...." he empathized out loud
as he listened to L.A. notifiy a police patrol car about their
medical emergency private home entry request.

Roy said. "If we can't see her in the window, that's what
we're gonna haveta do, junior. A phone line with a history
of heavy breathing doesn't mean a life or death situation."

"But it doesn't negate it either." Gage said, very unhappy,
as he clunked a jacketted elbow down on the open edge
of his passenger window. "You told me you and Stoker
definitely heard a groan on that line."

"It IS near Halloween, Johnny."

"Yeah, but why would kids prank call a firehouse? Usually
kids think we're really cool and...leave us alone." Gage
said.

"I can think of half a dozen crank calls B shift's had over the
last two months that started up just like this one."
Roy just shrugged. "We'll have at least some answers
in...." he looked at his watch in the glow of the bar lights
reflecting off the squad's hood. "....four minutes....."

"I got a better idea....." Johnny said with a finger snap.

"What?" Roy asked, glancing away from the road.

Johnny picked up the radio mic again.

-----------------------------------------------------------------------------

Engine 51 roared off the freeway ramp and pulled up behind
the squad in front of Dixie's apartment complex. The noise
of her arriving Code Three woke up everyone within ear shot
to a distance of two hundred yards.

"Is this your idea of a brilliant idea?" DeSoto asked Gage
while they wound through the night clothed crowd of people,
now milling about the pool area, fully loaded with gear.

"Yeah..." Johnny grinned. "Now we have witnesses..."
"And Cap's just as concerned about that phone call
as we are. He's not gonna yell. Not in the slightest."

"You're right about that." Roy considered. "It's not like
it's a busy night for firehouse calls. Being available here
or at the station's pretty much the same thing I guess."

"Exactly.." Johnny said.

As they neared apartment six, the gang piled out
and went immediately to the front entryway to ring
the doorbell while Roy and Johnny covered the back
patio facing the moonlit pool to see what they could see.

Johnny upped his ante. "Would someone turn on the lights
out here? We gotta see what we're doing!" he shouted to
the babbling, gossiping crowd of residents around them.

The off hours overhead suddenly kicked on over the
party hut at the far end of the pool, lighting their way
through the thick palms and bushes surrounding Dixie's
patio.

"Thank you!" shouted Roy. Then he mumbled. "Geesh,
talk about an abundance of bystander help."

Johnny's HT came to life in his jacket pocket. He
pulled it out. It was Cap. ##No answer at the front door
at the bell or with the knocker. And we've no windows
to look inside. How about on your end?##

"Still getting there. I wouldn't say Dixie's a premiere..."
he grunted as he forced O2 tank and com box through
the hedges.." gardening type. It's a sheer jungle over
here, but we're getting there." Johnny told Hank.

"She does like her privacy.." Roy grinned.

Gage sighed and finally his shoes reached the concrete
slab of her patio. "You know, there's another reason
why I used the engine to wake everybody up."

"Why's that?" Roy asked as he, too, fought through
the bushes to join his grinning partner on Dixie's
back yard landing.

A commotion on the sidewalk of fast stepping slippers got
their attention and a thick, hidden ivy covered gate
that neither Roy nor Johnny knew was there, suddenly swung
open onto the patio where they were, revealing a woman in a
robe of quilted pastels with a thick ring of keys in her hand.

"That's why.." Gage pointed at her. "I figured one of these
crowd folks just had to be the land lady.." Johnny said, tilting
his head. "Dragging out the Ward, too, just bettered our
chances in finding her.."

"Will wonders never cease.." Roy sighed with a half smile,
pulling off his helmet. He quickly explained the situation to
the land lady about Dixie McCall.

"Oh, sure.. Here, let me let you in. The poor dear. We all
thought she was just tired from saving Gerald Miller. The
kids saw her go back inside right after you fellas left."

Johnny was still peeking through the windows, shining his
flashlight. He couldn't see anything. "Thanks, Ma'am, for
coming. You see, the cops are delayed a bit. And this can't
wait."

"No, of course it can't.." said the landlady. "Here you go boys.
Can I come in? I'll be your entry witness.." she volunteered.

"That's what we had in mind, Ma'am.." Johnny said as
the landlady opened the glass patio door with a flick of
a long skeleton key.

Roy and Johnny immediately went inside, shouting Dixie's
name. The landlady trailed behind and turned on the lights
for them.

"She's not in here.." said Roy, leaving the bathroom.
"Looks like she's been vomiting." he said about an
unflushed toilet. "Some diarrhea, too." He flushed it
away after Johnny had a look at it.

Johnny let in Cap and the others through the front door
and quickly, the gang cased the living room, den,
the closest bedroom....

Finally, they found her on the carpetting, face down with a
phone receiver in her hand, in the farther one.

"Cap, we'll need an ambulance.." Roy said.

"You got it, pal. I'll be right back."

Johnny unwrapped the phone cord from around Dixie's
body and hung up the phone into its cradle, setting the whole
thing back on the nightstand while DeSoto knelt down, feeling
for a carotid. "Dixie? Can you hear me?"

Together, he and Johnny gently rolled her over onto her left
side from off of her stomach, supporting her head and neck in
a line, carefully, leaving her legs bent up to her stomach as they
checked to see if she was breathing. She was, shallowly.

Dixie just moaned at an arm pinch. "Altered level, Johnny.
Marco," he asked looking up. "..can you get her on some O2?"

"Yeah."

"Make it high flow."

Hank returned after his HT call outside and
crouched down, "Can we move her to the bed? It
might make it easier for you two to work."

Johnny got done sweeping Dixie's head, neck and back
for any blood or misalignment. "Yeah, I'm not finding anything
here. She didn't hurt herself falling at least. Her c-spine's clear."

The gang lifted her to the bed with a sheet, leaving
the others pulled down. She was placed onto her back and
Roy and Johnny piled the gear around her after the O2 was
set over her face.

Stoker thought ahead and placed pillows under
Dixie's knees to keep them bent, remembering her
unexpressed pain from earlier in the afternoon.

Cap began a hail out to Rampart while Johnny loosened
Dixie's clothes and pants for breathing's sake and got an initial
set of vital signs. "Chet, see if you can wake her past groaning.
I don't know why she's not conscious yet. The oxygen should've
helped her regain more awareness a full minute ago."

"That's if this is just another syncopal episode." DeSoto said
as he got a blood pressure off of her. His expression changed
into a more serious frown. "78/52. She's real warm, too."

"Sepsis?" Johnny guessed.

"Maybe. Check her abdomen. You remember what happened
to her this afternoon better than I do." DeSoto admitted.

"Not really. She wasn't very revealing." But Johnny checked.
He found mild rigidity in the lower right quadrant and
he heard noisy bowel sounds through his stethoscope.

"Ok." Kelly began talking to McCall loudly. "Come on. Dixie,
can you open your eyes for me? It's Chet Kelly from Station
51. We got your call ok. Everyone's here. Hey, open those
gorgeous peepers of yours and say hello to your house guests.
Millie the land lady's here, too. Johnny, hand me your penlight.
I'll check out her pupils for you."

Gage tossed Chet his light. "What'dya got?"

Kelly reported a finding after a few seconds. "P.e.a.r.l."

"Figures." Johnny huffed in frustration. "Keep at it.
We'll need her talkin to learn anything more."

"And... she's starting to flinch." Chet continued.

"That's a little better. Just don't kiss her. She may get
mad at ya." Johnny said with volume, trying a bad
joke to get any kind of a cognitive reaction out of
the sick nurse.

"Why not? She's pretty enough.." Kelly quipped,
going along, equally loud.

Dixie blinked and then she coughed. And then the
pain returned, full blown. "Oh, guys. I ..thu you'd nev ...here.."
she moaned, drawing her knees up even higher than
the pillows. "Oh ..gaa ..make it sto-- p p.." she sobbed,
with the emotions hardly reaching her features as much as
it did in her voice.

"Dix?" Johnny asked, "Open your eyes.." he said,
shaking her. "Tell us what's happening.." he
ordered firmly.

She just made a non-sensical noise and shuddered
in a fever chill.

Hank got a reply on the biophone. It was Dr. Morton.
"Stand by, Rampart. I'll pass you off to one of
the paramedics now. We've got a thirty two year old
female with an acute abdomen, non traumatic." he
informed. Then he mouthed the word "Morton" at
his men when they looked up from getting a Normal
Saline I.V. ready.

Roy took the phone. "Rampart. Our victim's semi-conscious.
Non responsive to verbal commands. B/P's 78/52, Pulse's 90.
Her respirations are 20 and shallow and both pupils are equal
and reactive. There's no signs of falling injury but there is evidence
of gastric and intestinal upset with a fever. We found mild guarding
in her lower right quadrant. She's on fifteen liters of O2."

Morton nodded his head and then he pressed the talk button
in the base station. ##Maintain her O2. Start an I.V., 51. Normal
Saline. Administer a 250 to 500 cc's bolus and titrate until her
pressure's at least 90 or better systolic. Then turn it TKO.
Conduct a head to toe survey and get a better neurological
assessment. Look for any abdominal distension or signs
of pulsatile masses. Palpate her flank on the effected side for
any CVA tenderness. Also, draw a red top for analysis. She's
been vomiting and losing digestive material intestinally, so I'm
gonna assume it's been a while since she's eaten anything. Give
her some Dextrose at 50%. 25 gms in an I.V. push. Let's hope her
stuporous state's due to hypoglycemia and that it isn't septic
involvement. 100 mgs Thiamine won't hurt either. In fact, give her
some. And get an oral temperature for me if you can, 51. Monitor
her on EKG for any altered rhythm. Report back to me in two
minutes with any new details. If not, transport her as soon as
possible. ##

"10-4, I.V. Normal Saline titrated to the hemodynamic status
margin minimum. A red top followed by 25 gms Dex50 I.V.,
and 100 mgs Thiamine. EKG check followed by a condition
update and immediate transport."

Millie wanted to know. "What's all that stuff?"

Cap answered, "Salt water and sugar, with one of the B vitamins,
a heartbeat reading, and then a fast ticket outta here."

"Huh...Whatever happened to the good ol smelling salts and
patting the wrists routine? That worked fine in reviving folks
awake in my day.." Millie interjected.

Johnny and Roy just smiled.

They got down to business re-examining Dixie for problems
visually and by feel and found only a few bruises on her palms
from the CPR she had given Ger and a few minor scrapes
on her hips from when she dragged the boy out of the pool.

No masses or pulsations were found anywhere in her abdomen
beyond the rigidity that was just starting to become apparent.

After they had given her a good once over and had connected
Dixie to the heart monitor, they covered her up with a sheet
for warmth.

A minute later, following the energizing Thiamine,
all the sugar and the actively pushed fluid bolus, Dixie finally showed
some mental life. Her eyes fluttered open. For good measure,
she jerked her hand out of Kelly's concerned one." I heard that
joke, you two nutcases. I just couldn't answer.." she growled.
"Not yet, anyway. Just how much is all this attention gonna cost
me? I've never needed an ambulance before.."

"Hardly anything and ...we're glad you liked it.." Johnny said.
"And everybody ELSE'S glad that you're conscious. Now you
know the routine. Quit griping and answer my questions already."

Dixie sighed under her O2 mask and lifted her knees a little
higher at a particularly viscious pain stab. "Go.."

"What are your symptoms? We already know about
the fever, diarrhea and the vomiting."

"Abdominal pain. Surprise!"

Roy and Johnny made a face. Chet just laughed.

"Do you have any allergies?"

"No."

"Are you on any medications or have you taken anything
for this?"

"None and no."

"What kind of abdominal history do you have? Anything like a
past incarcerated hernia, intussuception, cholecystitis, cystitis,
duodenal ulcers, diverticulitis, abdominal aortic aneurysm,
kidney infections, kidney stones, pancreatitis,
pelvic inflammatory disease...."

Dixie just rolled her eyes at the last one.

"Sorry.. And I know you haven't had any kids recently.."

She glared at Gage indignantly.

"..ever.." he amended self consciously, clearing his throat.

Dixie let him off the look-that-could-kill hook.
"None on all counts, Johnny. All I know is that I hurt.
Horribly. And I'm so hot I feel like I'm gonna die." she
whimpered instead.

"No you're not. Your pressure's sitting at an even 100
now. Up twenty millibars." Roy grinned.

"Speak for yourself. You aren't hurting." she snivelled.

"He could be if you punch him one.." Chet suggested.

"Don't tempt me.." she spat.

Right then, Johnny tested for rebound tenderness over
her stomach and found a definite positive finding
when she shoved his hand away with a sharp intake of
breath and suddenly grew five shades paler. " Uh huh..
And right over McBurney's point, Roy.."

Dixie met both the paramedics' eyes with a blank stare.
"You've got to be kidding. Appendicitis?" she pegged.

"We don't know that and none of us will. Not until after a
battery of testing.." Roy admitted.

"Cap, how long on that ambulance? She's.. VERY..
stabilized now." Gage asked, putting a bored chin into a
hand on an elbow lean.

"Let ME find out for ya, Cap." and Kelly neatly exited the
apartment to avoid the storm to come. "I'll....just.. show them
the way through darkest Africa out here..." he said.

"My garden's not THAT bad! Oww.." Dixie fired back,
doubling over when her shouting irritated her side again.

Gage returned to his questioning. "Last oral intake?"

"Uhh,, I don't remember.." she sighed weakily from the pillows.

Roy rubbed his nose. "Morton called her diminished
LOC right on the nose. Hypoglycemia.."

"Not him, too...?! Ughh!" Dixie denied. "It's bad enough having Kel
and Joe snooping around and finding out about this.." she winced.
"But to have that bedside mannerless automaton knowing
about it.."

"Shall I relay that message?" Johnny quirked, holding out
the biophone receiver. "He's listening.."

Dixie paled even further.

"No, he's not. I covered the phone when you started up
about him. Aren't I nice?" Gage sniffed. "Events leading
to your illness?" he continued, scribbling into his note pad.

Dixie sputtered, recovering on all tracks but the physical.
"Let's see, over work, under pay.." she ticked off on her
fingers.. " a tiny head cold and now I've got a big problem
with a certain bunch of real pesky firemen.." she blathered.

Johnny ignored her. "When was the onset of your pain?"

Dixie finally got intimated by the proceedings and started
answering without bristling. "Started mid line bilaterally
around 11 am, right after work, yesterday."

"What provoked it?"

"Moving." she snapped.

"What does it feel like?"

"Awful."

Now it was Roy's turn to roll his eyes.

Now Gage poured on the purest kind of paramedic mule headed
cussedness. "Does it radiate anywhere?" he asked through gritted
teeth, staying outwardly professional beyond that one anomaly.

"Not anymore. You found the X that marks the spot."

Johnny bit his lip. "How severe is it?"

"Bad."

Cap started chuckling and had to amble away.

"Does anything make it better?" Roy tried when
Johnny began boiling.

"Unconsciousness did, Roy, and I got you two to
thank for dragging me kicking and screaming out of it."
Dixie said quite honestly, ripping off her oxygen mask.
"Excuse me, I'm going to go puke.." and she started
to get up.

Both Johnny and Roy.... and Cap... stopped her by
grabbing and laying across her chest, knees and
legs. "You're not going anywhere, Dixie! You've lost
your right to make a judgement call." Hank thundered.

"Who says?!"

"We all do!" Gage shouted. Then he narrowed his eyes
in a challenge. "Let her go, Cap. Roy, you too."
Reaching over, he shut down Dixie's running I.V. to TKO.
"Ok. Prove it."

Dixie eyed Johnny suspiciously. "Prove what?"

"Prove that you're fully medically competent to handle
this health matter..." he said firmly stabbing a finger
down on the bed sheets in between them. "If you can
stand up on your own two feet, without blacking out,"
he said waggling a finger in her face."...all of us will just
pack up.....and we'll leave..."

The silence in the room was palpable.

Dixie's hand snaked over and dialed up the I.V. to a fast
gush in the drip chamber.

"Ah, ah ah.." Johnny said, jerking the tubing out of her hand
and he redialed it back down to TKO. "Without any outside help
or adjunct." he clarified.

Then he pulled her sheets down and invited her to swing her legs
over the side of the bed.

Dixie froze like a deer in the headlights.

Then her jaw clamped shut and the insult she was about to
hurl died aborning. She yanked the covers back up to her chin
and her teeth started to chatter. "You boys make sure neither Kel
nor Joe does my surgery.."

Johnny relaxed his finger pointing stare and he planted the
abandoned O2 mask that was hissing around her neck to back
over her face.

She didn't protest. "Promise me..." she asked of her two hands on
hips posturing paramedics.

"Ok.." Roy shrugged and he turned up her I.V. to a shock fighting
level again.

Feeling a bit like the devil, Johnny added, "We'll let Morton do it."

Dixie nearly levitated off the bed.

Right then the elegant Victorian phone on Dixie's nightstand
rang.

"Uh oh." trickled Cap.

Johnny picked it up, reluctantly, after it rang six times. "Oh, hiya doc.
Uh, what do you mean what am I still doing over here? Uh, that's kind
of a long story. You see..uh.. Gotta go, doc. There in a few 
minutes!" and he slammed the receiver down. 

Just as Johnny hung up the phone, Dixie's eyes rolled back and she
blacked out dissolving into unconsciousness once again.

Johnny Gage moved. "Dixie? Hey--" and he reached
out to touch her chin when Roy DeSoto stopped him.

"Why don't we let her be, Johnny?" he smiled. "Looks
like she's finally given in to that long rest her body's been
demanding that she'd better have. She's comfortable
enough and breathing fine on her side just as she is without
us messing around with an oral airway. We'd be disturbing
her if we did any further monkeying."

"But--" he bit his lip, considering, and checking a sudden retort.
"Ok, convince me. What's her pressure now?" checking McCall's
pupils again in a search for how far down she'd gone.

"116/72.." he said pointedly amused. "The I.V.'s HAS done its work.
And see? On the monitor...." Roy invited with an eye glance.

Johnny studied Dixie's tracing EKG reading on the scope and his
critical analyzing frown slowly turned into a light smile. "Sinus rhythm...
finally." he sighed.

"Yeah, her rate's about 58." Roy agreed. "Not stressed any longer
at all.."

"Now that's what I call sleeping.." Kelly remarked.

"Chet, how would you know?" Gage commented. "You're not a paramedic
like us." The irritation on giving into his partner's low impact patient care
plan was still festering a bit under the skin. He liked his victims awake
and talking when they didn't have vitals that disfavored maintaining that
status.

"No, but I know good vital signs notes when I hear them." he said, unoffended.
"I got the smarts when I need em, Don't you worry yourself about that, pally."
he
said, winking at Roy to let him know he was in a needle Johnny Gage
mode again now that all the excitement was over.

Gage rapidly starting cleaning up and tidying while Roy readied
Dixie's apparatus for gurney loading. "No, you're definitely pumpkin positive,
Chet..." he mumbled.

"What? I didn't quite hear ya, Johnny? What the heck's pumpkin positive
mean?" he grinned, giving motions of a gimme more gesture behind Gage's
back where the dark haired paramedic couldn't see it.

The gang just folded arms together to watch the verbal tennis match with
the same grins on their faces.

And Johnny walked right into the baiting, hook, line and sinker. "If a doctor
writes 'Pumpkin Positive' on your notes, Chet, they mean if they shine a
penlight
into your mouth, they would encounter a brain so small that your whole head
would light up."

"Oh, uh huh." Kelly said, mildly, completely unruffled. "Gee, that's really
interesting,
Gage. But what IQ scale fits your place at the shallow end of the gene pool...?
You didn't even see that Dixie's just snoozing right now until Roy here, pointed
it out to you."

"Chet---"

"Ok, enough's enough." Cap intervened, chuckling. "If you two carry on in here
much longer, you just might DO what Roy says not to do and you'll wake her up.
You guys can go play debate team after the call's over. Come on, Kelly. Back
to the engine. Stoker and Marco are already waiting for ya. "

"But--"

"But nothin, I'm only lagging behind because I wanna make sure that Dixie's
place get's locked up again once the PD gets here. You know my signature's
needed on the house entry form. "

"That's all right, sir. I can take care of that.." said Millie the land lady..

Cap blinked and her comment didn't register under the hard thinking and
disciplining he was still embarking upon. " I'll take the squad in so Roy and
John can fuss over her at much as they'd like on the way in. Now, shoo.."
Hank said, jerking up his chin in a firm, I'm the captain look.

"Cappp..." Chet whined. "Are you gonna let Johnny keep
picking on me?" he said in jest.

"No, I'm gonna let YOU take a time out on HIM. That wasn't
a request, Kelly.."

"No, it was an order, I know.. I know." and he trudged out the door,
putting on his helmet again over his smoky curls. "Why spoil my fun? I was
just trying to lighten the tense mood radiating out from a certain someone
still leaning over the bed. And Dixie hasn't been disturbed. She
hasn't moved since Roy tipped her head back."

"Go.." Cap pointed, his stenorous baritone cracking out.

"Yes, sir.." Kelly said automatically at the undeniable
tone of command. He snapped his fingers in self chiding
annoyance when he realized that he was still so well
conditioned, that he actually jumped to attention at it.

"Weellll, maybe there's a few seeds in the jack o lantern
after all." Gage shot back after him. "You understood
that ok.."

All the firemen raised their heads when the sound of
the Mayfair responding to their rescue call appeared
and finally pulled up just outside.

"Gage, zip it." Cap coughed, trying to hide a smile.
"You're falling behind. DeSoto's got the I.V. box
already put back together and the attendants are
only seconds away."

Millie rubbed her chin. "I guess all the acid banter means
that Dixie's really ok?" she asked with a knowing smile.

"It sure does.." Roy said, standing up from one last
check on Dixie's respirations. "I'll leave a note with
her about your involvement in resecuring the apartment.
The policeman coming is just a formality. Cap's only
got a few lines to fill out on the officer's report."

"All right. Thank you, gentlemen, for helping Dixie like
you have. It really was sitting in the back of my mind, that
something wasn't right. I was just too timid to inquire and
intrude, you know?"

"Yeah, we know." Johnny said. "It's a trait of being
American, that respect for any individual's home privacy.
No harm's done, ma'am."

"Thank goodness."

------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
"Dixie..

Dixie.. Can you hear me? Look what I brought..." said a firm
but quiet male voice.

Dixie opened her eyes and peered around a flowing oxygen
mask.

And saw a grotesque swollen pink and purple worm, floating
in a jar of preserving fluid..

"GahHH!" she jerked, throwing her hands up. "Get that thing
away from me." and she immediately winced when stitches,
external and internal, snagged on her innards. "Ooo.."

"What? It's not a prop from the little shop of horrors, Dixie."
said Joe Early with a chuckle. "This was part of you fifteen
minutes ago."

"I know what it is, Joe. It's just so... yyuck.." she shuddered, coughing
up a plume of anesthetic gas from her chest as she got a radar
on how truly awake she was becoming. Her nursing side finally
got the better of her. "Ok, so what did ya find?" she gave in.

Kel Brackett, to Joe's left, also seated on the bed, answered her.
"Well, your appendicitis was uncomplicated. We found no fecaliths, lymph
node involvements, or any signs of appendiceal perforation. You just had
some moderate suprefaction of the mesentery that didn't effect the
peritoneum. We did a WBC and a flat plate, which was negative
along with a UA for blood which came completely clear of red cells.
Your kidneys,..are fine."

Dixie blinked, still very groggy. "Would you explain that in plain
english? I think I'm still a little hollow in the head right now."

"Rest, Dix." Kel said, getting up. "We'll just leave your souvenir
on the bedstand for you to analyze later."

"Don't forget to use a pillow on your abdomen when
you have to cough up some of that phlegm. And yes, we
made sure the incision was made below the bikini line." Joe added.

"You're all heart." she grumbled, rolling over to sleep some
more. "And if I hear one crack about the mickey mouse shaped
beauty mark I know you saw down there coming from the nursing staff,
I'll personally feed you both halves of my appendix floating around
in that specimen jar."

"She's awake, Kel. I think we can leave now. No one who's too
sleepy to breathe ever musters up a threat."

"You're right, Joe. Sweet dreams, Dix, and get better fast.."

The only reply was a blissful mumble followed by a rub of
a few fingers on her nose.

The two Rampart doctors left the recovery room on scrub paper
covered shoes, gingerly.

---------------------------------------------------------

Captains DeSoto and Gage looked at each other as their shared
conversation about Dixie's crazy day off rescue finished in 
their mind's eye.

Then Johnny changed the subject...

------------------------------------------------------

Photo:  Dixie diving into a pool.

Photo:  Johnny catching a fainting Dixie outside.

Photo:   Dixie lying in bed at home, sick.

Photo:    Appendix surgery shot.

Photo:    Dixie defiant in Suzy Q pj's.

Photo:    Gage and DeSoto as fire department captains.

**************************************************
Subject: Running Hot? 
From:  Erin James (etlhostej@voyagerliveaction.com) 
Sent: Wed 3/19/08 7:54 AM 

Roy and Johnny downed the last of their sodas and rose
to their feet. Gage wasn't through playing yet. "I don't want
to go back to my station just yet. Do you?"

"Not really. It's kinda fun reminiscing like this. But, what can
we do? The awards luncheon's over."

Gage suddenly had a light bulb go off over his head.
"Think outside the bubble, Roy. Let's use our rank and run 
with it. Literally."

"How do you mean?"

"I really want to see our old haunts. You know, like the hospital?
So let's grab a Resus Randy out of store and throw him behind
a firetruck somewhere for the cadets to find and run it in like a full code.
The chief'll love that kind of shakedown on a training day, and we'll
get our wish of an extended vacation together.. Whatdiya say?"

"I like it." 

"Okay.. Race ya for the store shed. There's a code Randy in there
from the last cadet class that needs another go according to my 
status report last week. One, Two Three.. Go!"

And the two were off again, full tilt, stopping only long enough to
snatch up their wind tossed hats and abandoned jackets as they
made for the fire tower near Headquarters.

As they reached for the open padlock, to go inside to pick the thing up, 
Gage grinned. "I wonder how many paramedic cadets are about 
to need new shorts."

"The first two who are unfortunate enough to find our dummy."
DeSoto replied, smiling hugely, hefting up the shockable manikin
over one shoulder.

Johnny got the door. Gage grinned, "Now let's go have some real 
fun!"

-----------------------------------------------------------------------------------
A half hour after Dixie McCall hung up the phone with Sharon, she 
thought, ::Sometimes I really miss being downstairs. Other times 
I'm glad I'm up here.:: 

Behind her, an L.A. County scanner burbled softly as she
sorted through the day's paperwork. A new pair of voices caught
her attention. It was preceded by a disregard call sign in code
that was really a firefighter paramedic mock medical running in
with a training manikin. The voices initiating the call over HT 
were Roy DeSoto and Johnny Gage, who was manning 
communications for the exercise.

::Man. I haven't seen those two in years. I wonder how they're doing?
Maybe I could sneak down there into Treatment Five Isolation when
they arrived with their trainees to just say hello or something.::
Dixie glanced over at her desk. There was a picture of her and 
her on-again-off-again boyfriend of nearly ten years, Kel Brackett. 
::We must be on again because the picture frame isn't broken 
and the current picture isn't damaged.:: she mused. ::I count
eleven luncheons to date with him since--::

The office door suddenly swung open and broke Dixie from her 
train of thoughts. She looked up and said, "Can I help y--?..."

The sight that met her stopped her mid-sentence, a very tired 
and flushed Kel Brackett stood unmoving in the doorway. 

Dixie struggled on the reason why. Kel was now the head of 
cardiology and worked closely with a lot of the hospital interns. 
He routinely checked in with Dixie hashing out details when they 
were both on duty the same shift, but now, somehow this was 
different. Horribly different.

Kel looked like he had been in the wrong place and at the 
wrong time extremely. Dixie sprinted for the door where he clung, 
the former nurse in her suddenly in full gear. "Kel, what's the matter?"

Kel groaned, "Not much really. Well, maybe something ...bad. 
G*d, have I really been working three days straight?"

"Lean on me Kel, we'll get you over to a chair and then I'll tell
you."

"O-okay." he gasped, still heavily fatigued and ringing with sweat.

Kel was careful at first not to put his full weight on Dixie. 

Dixie said, "Kel,I can handle you. Lean on me. I don't want you
doing anything above the absolute minimum until I figure out 
what's off on you. You're as red as all get out. And hot."

Dixie braced herself as Kel put his full weight on her. 

"I can tell you that.." he moaned. Slowly, she helped him over 
to the closest chair. Kel yelped when his head shot another stab 
of pain through his temples and eyes. He whisper-talked as he said, 
"Ooo, the mother of all migranes, Dix. Real bad this time."

"You don't get those, Kel. This is not the first time? 
Now you're worrying me. You can't even sit up straight. I want 
you to get on the floor right now before you pass out. Something's 
definitely not right physically here, I agree."  She was shocked even 
further when he didn't protest the idea. "I'll use a couch cushion to 
raise your head up. Come on."

Dixie carefully helped Kel to the floor, onto his back. 
Natural reaction had Dixie loosening his tie so he 
could still breathe as he tried to get through his pain. Dixie spoke
soothingly, "Hang on, Kel, I'm gonna get us help."

In pain, Kel's voice cracked, "Don't go far. I've got something..
*ah* I've got ...s-something important I just gotta say to you.."

A worried knot caught in Dixie's throat, "I'm not going anywhere, Kel,
you've got my full attention now, d*mn it all. Just lie still."

Thankful she had trousers on, Dixie kneeled at Kel's head as he
closed his eyes. She reached up and grabbed the phone off of 
her desk. She had two quick phone calls to make. As she picked 
up the receiver to dial the first, she thought, ::I hope they're still here.
I heard them on the base station scanner coming in with a mock
patient, probably as an excuse to come in and see us all again
for once.::
 
Dixie's hands shook slightly as she held the mouth piece and 
dialed. Thankfully, her call was answered in two rings. She 
almost cried when she heard, ##Treatment Five, Captain DeSoto 
speaking.##

Dixie fought to stay professional, "Roy, it's Dixie. Listen! 
I need medical help in Admin Office 103. NOW!"

Roy could tell something was seriously wrong. ##What
exactly's going on?##

"Kel just came in looking like something the cat dragged in.
He says his head hurts and he almost fell over when I 
tried to get him to sit down. He's on the floor now for
safety. Conscious and alert. I'm going to call Emergency 
next but I know they won't be as fast responding as--"

The former full time paramedic kicked in in Roy. ##Dix, you
know this as well as we do. Don't move him. Is his head up 
so his pressure's not aggravated?##

"Yes."

##All right, we'll be there in two with our gear and trainees.
Get a gurney and orderlies to your floor. We'll take care of the 
rest.## Roy said.

"Okay." McCall sighed fast, and scared.

-------------------------------------------------------------------

Roy hung up with Dixie. As Dixie called the emergency department
for an M.D. stat upstairs, Roy turned to Johnny. "We have to go. All
of us. We've an in-house emergency!"

Johnny heard the urgency in his former partner's voice and the 
paramedic of old in him, kicked in. "What do we need?"

"Long board, collar,..." Roy began listing off.  "..defib, EKG..
for non-trauma related head pain. Severe."

One of their paramedic trainees added more.. "and a blanket 
definitely."

"And the resuscitator and suction." said the other.

"Good." said Roy. "You two are definitely coming with us. This is
the real deal."
 
One of the certification students asked, "Do you need even more hands?"

"Nah, we're enough. A couple of orderlies are on the way." DeSoto replied.

Johnny and Roy grabbed their equipment and bolted. Johnny asked,
"Where?"

"Dix's new office. The one we've heard about. In 103. It's Kel who's down."

Johnny paled as he and Roy kicked into high gear. Years removed
from the last time they had officially been partners, the duo 
still knew how to play an ace game. They led their stunned 
pair of paramedic students up the stairs, taking them two at a time.

Behind them, the manikin lay abandoned on the table.

-----------------------------------------------------------------

They arrived at Dixie's office even before the orderlies with the
bed. Dixie looked up when she heard the stampede of feet. "He's
a little worse. It's hard for him to talk now." Dixie turned back to Kel 
who was once again trying not to scream out in pain. "It's okay, 
Kel, help's here."

The look in Kel's eyes asked, as he frowned, nonverbally.::Who is it?::

Johnny and Roy spoke up, solving the riddle. "Easy doc, remember us?
We'll get you downstairs soon."

Kel's short rapid breathing relaxed slightly when he heard the sound of old 
friends' voices. "Can't.. Don't know what's.. wrong fellas past working too 
much." he grunted.

"Your pulse's bounding, doc. Do you have a history of high blood pressure?"
asked Roy.

The look on Kel's face told him no, with a little shock at DeSoto's first guess. 

Roy and Johnny opened all the equipment. Johnny barked, "Johnson, lock
your hands on his head and DON'T move them."

"Cerebral aneurysm?" whisper guessed the second of the students who was
back turned away from Kel's view, at Gage.

"No." Johnny said. "His pupils are equal. See? And dilated. Get 
a pressure from both arms and start him on some O2, high flow."

The stunned student quickly followed directions. A commotion began
as McCall rose to her feet suddenly.

Kel mumbled, "Don't leave, Dix." he said from under the mask.
His trembling hand jerked and knocked a small ornate box that 
was hinged and velvet lined in blue, out from one of his pockets.

Dixie's voice cracked, "I'm not. I'm just checking for the orderlies."
she told him without looking back. "Who're running slow as usual." 
she growled, walking swiftly away across the room.

The fallen box caught Johnny's eye, who recognized it for what it was. 
Brackett groaned softly at him. "Don't let her see it." he hissed.
Gage quickly hid it under Brackett's loosened shirt material.

Smiling despite the situation, Roy spoke reassuringly, "Easy doc, 
we'll make sure she doesn't get away that easily." he said, glancing
up at the door McCall had flung wide open to admit the arriving 
hospital workers. "Now we're gonna get you onto this board. 
Let us do all the work. Don't move."

Kel took a quick breath knowing full well it was going to hurt 
his head even more. "Yeah, ..the standard. I might be prestr-" he
grimaced.

Gage cut off his words with a hiss. "Shh.. Stay quiet! You
already know why."

Roy was on Kel's left, Johnny behind him. DeSoto said, 
"Your call, Johnson. You have control of him."

"Go." said the student. Carefully, the trio turned Kel on to his 
side and the doctor yelled as they completed the roll onto 
the board that Johnny had pre-positioned. 

Johnny and Roy had to swallow hard when they saw an odd flush
of color and new pain on Kel's familiar face. ::When had he gone all
hair grayed as Joe Early?:: they each wondered. They quickly secured 
him to the board. Kel yelped as his head was returned in a lift to a
level higher than his twitching feet. 

Johnny spoke calmly as he reset the flow rate for the 
oxygen to the top percentage. "Sorry about that, doc. We'll get you taken 
care of." Johnny finger looped at Roy to let him know the stepped up 
care. Roy gingerly set an EKG monitor near Brackett's head. "Strip's 
next, doc. Johnson, open his shirt a little at the neck. Dixie, is a doctor 
on the way?"

She nodded. "Somebody is. I heard people down the hall 
hollering about it just a second ago."

 At the same time, Gage nodded at Johnson. "What'd you get for 
comparison BP's?"

"198 over 110 left. 200/102 right." replied the medic.

"Hypertension? He must have a spike going on.. Or something similar." 
Roy decided. He leaned down to Kel and asked him direct questions. 
"Doc,..open your eyes. How's your vision? Is your sight normal? 
Any deviations in your peripherals?"

Brackett just moaned, still fully awake but lost in agony. DeSoto saw
that Kel didn't even want to blink once his eyelids parted. But his eyes
met Roy's easily.

"That's all right. I'll take that as a no. Just try to relax." DeSoto said.
"Nickels,.. do a Cincinnati Scale on him. You remember the
checks on that? We're looking for anything abnormal."

"Yeah, I do." the second student replied. And the firefighter got on it 
instantly.

Gage patched Kel in using both his wrists and his offside ankle on 
limb leads for speed. "Sinus Tach. No elevations." he read off the screen.

"I'll get a serum glucose." offered Johnson, holding up a glucometer.

"Yep. That's right. Look for that. He may be high there. And for a cause
different than a possible TIA crisis or arterial defect like we're all thinking."

"Probable, Gage. Any one of them. Maybe even.. DKA.." grunted Brackett.

"Shut up." Johnny said. "Be a patient for once, doc. You're not a doctor
now. You're the body on the carpeting we're all working on."

Johnny looked over at a very shaken Dixie who had returned to
start Kel's sixteen gauge saline I.V. for them. He saw
that she had a death grip on Kel's hand with her free one
even as she held up the fluid bag set to keep open with the other.
"Dix? What can you tell us on a history?"

Dixie's voice cracked slightly. "Sorry guys. I just...can't
think right now.. I.." Dixie's voice dropped off. 

Roy spoke gently as he took Dixie's free hand, "It's okay, Dix.
He can tell us after the attending knocks out some of this pain
and pressure once we're down in a care room."

As one, the firemen picked Kel up, board and all and moved him to 
the waiting stretcher. Johnny laid the oxygen between his legs 
as Roy raised the bed rails to protect Brackett. The motion
didn't even make Kel cry out.

The next whole conversation was at such a soft level, that only 
the two who spoke next, could hear any of it. 

Johnny commented, "See? We're gentle but quick." Gage told Kel.
"Keep squeezing Dixie's hand on the way down, all right? I can tell
she wants you to."

"The feeling's mutual nowdays, hose jockey.." he hissed as Johnny 
bent low to listen to his lungs for a second with a stethoscope.

"Your secret's safe. So's this." he said, pressing on the hidden ring box
at Kel's hip. "Want us there when you pop the q--"

"No!.. Ahhhhh." he grimaced, almost bouncing off the board. "This
is between me... and her.. Got it?"

Gage covered up his amused verbal jab with a hold on Kel's shoulder.
beginning to speak loudly again. "Yeah, I know it's frustrating. Just lie 
still." he joked lightly. "You're keeping stable from what we can see here." 
he said, poking the EKG monitor. "Good deal." he coughed, covering up
the moment neatly.

The students and the orderlies took off. Suddenly, not aware of what 
had happened, Dixie struggled to get to her feet. Johnny's voice went soft,
"Easy, Dix." In one motion, Johnny had Dixie in his arms long enough
to set her onto her tingling legs. Roy followed the gurney out of the 
office. 

Gage and McCall made good time and caught the same elevator Kel 
was on.

-------------------------------------------------------------------------

The elevator ride was tense and silent; the students too cowed 
by the realism of the call to speak, and Roy and Johnny for being 
completely focused on their patient while they took continual vital 
signs and other level of consciousness checks. 

"I'm finding nothing obvious." said Nickels of his neurological exam.

"All right." said Roy.

"Sugar's 80." reported Johnson.

At that finding, Brackett groaned in relief. ::I'm not diabetic.:: he thought.

As soon as the doors on the elevator opened, they quickly emptied
the transfer car.

Roy yelled out, "Sharon, get Joe and Mike down here right away!
It's Dr. Brackett. Sky rocketting B.P."

Head Nurse Sharon Walters was stunned when she saw who the incoming 
patient was. "Put him in Four." she said. Roy and Johnny nodded. Without
breaking fast stride, they all went straight into the treatment room through the
double doors.

Sharon realized the faster she got help the better, so she bypassed the 
pager system and picked up the phone to make the announcement herself. 
"Doctors Joe Early and Mike Morton, Report to Emergency. STAT! Doctors 
Joe Early and Mike Morton, Report to Emergency. STAT!" After making the 
the call, she too, headed for the treatment room. 

Sharon was met by Roy, Johnny, the two orderlies, Dixie, and an extremely 
trussed up Kel. The paramedic students stayed to the back of the treatment 
room, still new enough to not want to get in the way.

------------------------------------------------------

Photo:  Roy and Johnny standing near a manikin.

Photo: The gang regarding a resuscitation manikin on the floor.

Photo:  Dixie grabbing Kel from behind in concern in an office.

Photo:  Dixie looking worried in a treatment room.

Photo: Gage shocked at Rampart

Photo:  Roy looking worried by a desk at Rampart.

Photo:  Close up of a collapsed Kel Brackett on a bed.

Photo:   Roy and Gage working on someone at Rampart.

Photo: Two hospital orderly EMTs at Rampart.

Photo:  Joe treating a sick Kel in bed.

***************************************************
From: Erin James (etlhostej@voyagerliveaction.com)
Subject: Old Familar Places? 
Sent: Wed 4/02/08 3:40 PM 

Kel asked through his oxygen mask, "Who?"

Sharon answered, "Relax, Dr. Brackett, it's Sharon. Joe and 
Mike are on their way now."

Roy said, "Get him undressed and covered, Johnny. Sharon, 
let's get another set of vitals." Carefully, Roy and Johnny 
prepped Kel, cutting away his shirt, underclothes and trousers, 
and replacing them with a loose, untied gown which they draped 
on backwards over him and the long board.

Sharon got the requested vitals. "198/150, 120 bounding, 22 labored."

Johnny turned to Dixie, "You okay, Dix?"

Dixie's voice was emotionally shaky at best, "Yeah, Johnny...
I'm okay."

Johnny was about to call Dixie's bluff when Joe and Mike burst 
through the door. "What happened?" gruffed Mike, instantly moving 
to Kel's head.
 
Joe and Mike were both stunned to see who the patient was. The 
fact that Johnny and Roy were also in the room, looking 
professionally dead pan and tight, added to their shock. 

Joe asked, "Did he black out?"

Roy shook his head. "No. Pupils are equal." he said, handing over
his note pad to Early. "There's some head pain though. Enough to
keep him from talking to us a bit."

Dixie answered with more, her voice now strictly professional. "Kel 
stopped by my office and was red as a cherry. He said he had a 
migraine, and he doesn't get them. When I went to sit him in the 
chair, he said it hurt his head too bad, so I lowered him to the floor. 
Once he was there, I called Roy and Johnny for backup because 
they are faster than our orderlies.They were here running a dummy 
code."

Roy picked up, "We went up to Dixie's office with gear and some of 
the cadets from the academy. An NS line's TKO. O2 fifteen liters. 
These spinal precautions are for our initial suspicion of a potential 
for cerebral injury because..."

Johnny anxiously finished, interrupting. "...Doc, we took his BP and 
we found he's in a hypertensive crisis. Might be a bad one." The 
seriousness of Johnny's words was not lost on anyone in the room. 

Joe barked, "Mike, draw blood work. I want electrolytes, BUN, and 
creatinine levels to evaluate for renal impairment. Also, a CBC and 
smear to exclude microangiopathic anemia."

Mike quickly set to work as he said, "You got it, Joe."

Joe continued, "Sharon, get x-ray down here STAT. I want a full chest
and skull series."

Sharon grabbed the phone across the room as she said, "Yes, doctor." 

Joe looked over at Johnny, "Johnny, anchor a foley. We're gonna 
need a urinalysis." 

Kel was partially aware and groaned at Joe's order. 

Joe looked up sympathetically at his friend, "Sorry, Kel. Sedation's
gotta wait until we know what we're dealing with."

Kel mumbled, "I know. Better be ..quick..." he winced as his head
throbbed.

Johnny nodded, understanding. He got out a foley pack from the back 
cupboard and started the procedure deftly.

Mike finished the blood work, "DeSoto, who's your fastest student?"

Roy thought for less then a second and replied, "Firefighter Johnson."

The student in question stepped up. Mike turned to him, "Take this to 
the lab. Our orders are rolled around the tube set with the list of what's
needed on them. Tell them to get back immediately with results."

Johnson quickly said, "Yes, sir." Armed with his samples, the 
student quietly sprinted out of the treatment room.

Kel mumbled, "Dix, ..where..?"

Dixie gently grasped Kel's hand. "Right here, I haven't gone
anywhere. You just try to relax. I'm staying.." she growled quietly.

Kel mumbled, "For the d-duration?"

Dixie turned so she could look Kel straight in the eye as she squeezed
his hand just a bit harder. "Now you listen here Kel Brackett, I am 
not going to leave your side unless Joe and Mike order me to. And even 
then I won't do it without a fight." Dixie's voice softened as she 
felt Kel relax. She leaned into his ear and whispered. "Don't you know 
I love you too much to go anywhere? Just lay back and rest. I'm right 
here, the guys are here, and you're in the best doctor hands possible."

Kel settled down and whispered, "I lov--" he grimaced in pain when
his head caused another spasm.

Dixie smiled, "Shhh... I love you, too."

The arrival of X-ray cut off of any more interaction between the ER's
past chief physician and head nurse. Gage was also done 
inserting the foley. "Bladder's full. No blockage." he reported to Early,
peeling off his gloves. "I've drained it into the bag."

Joe nodded and looked at Mike to get his attention on new orders. 
"Mike, I need a dipstick UA to detect hematuria or proteinuria. And a 
microscopic to detect RBCs or RBC casts."

Mike said, "You got it. I'll personally take a sterile to the lab while
x-ray is here."

Joe said, "Okay... Kel, how's your breathing feel?" he said, listening
to Kel's lungs.

Sweating, Brackett struggled to reply.
"Not ...tight. It's...just reflexive. Pain's ten out of t--*ahh!*.."

"All right. Easy." Early soothed. "We'll keep your head up. 
If you're really as clear of pulmonary edema as you sound, I'll 
give you some Procardia sublingually, ten milligrams to start."  

Kel gasped, panting in agreement, staying still.

Morton turned to Sharon as she returned from using the in-house
phone connecting to the lab. "Switch out that Saline for Ringer's in
case this is a precursor TIA."

"Right away, doctor." Walters acknowledged.

Joe turned to the x-ray techs. "I want a chest x-ray and a full skull 
series STAT!"

One of the x-ray techs quickly said, "Yes, sir."

Dixie kissed Kel's hand as she said, "We have to step out for a few 
minutes, but as soon as this is over, we'll be back."

Kel closed his eyes tightly as he gave in to pain once again.

Roy left quickly in front of Dixie. Johnny was behind her as the group 
left the treatment room. They both knew Dixie was actually hiding her 
fear to keep Kel calm.

-------------------------------------------------------------------------
Once kicked out of the treatment room, Morton split away
fast for the lab. 

Joe turned to the others, "Let's go to the lounge and wait for X-ray."

But truth be told, nobody wanted to move. However, they all knew 
they needed a minute to regroup emotionally. 

Reluctantly Dixie said, "Okay, Joe." as she glanced back nervously
at the door closing behind them.

One of the waiting paramedic students spoke up, "Captain Gage?
I'll come get you as soon as X-ray is done, sir." said Nickels. "I'll
stay out here beside the door."

Johnny turned back to the student, "Thank you." He noted privately
that the students were just as worried as the rest of them were.
::Maybe he can see that we're all old colleagues. We're certainly
not reining in our personal feelings on the matter.:: he thought.

Sharon was the last one into the lounge and she closed the door.  

It was only then, surrounded by her closest friends, that Dixie let 
her emotions crack. 

She shook and the tears fell as Johnny and Roy held her shoulders 
and both hands as she sat down into a chair. 

Joe bit back his own fears and spoke calmly, "It's okay Dixie, he's 
going to turn out lucky. His EKG's stable, his CNS's still normal, 
and his lungs are cooperating by staying clear."

Dixie trembled as she spoke, "It's not fair, I should have seen the 
signs. I've tried for years to get him to slow down." she sobbed.

Johnny said, "Dix, we all did that. The good news is we caught
this new development today and we're treating it fast. He's always 
been in the best hands possible. Especially for someone who has
a tendency to hide symptoms."

Joe added, "He'll get the top vascular specialist. I'll 
personally see to that."

Dixie slowly calmed down, "Th-thanks, guys."

The group answered as one, "You're welcome." 

The room went quiet as everyone privately dealt
with unspoken emotions silently. 

Just as Dixie had stopped shaking and had become
fully calmed down, there was a knock at the door.

Roy quickly spoke, "Come in..."

The door opened and revealed Paramedic Student Nickels. 
"Cap, they're done. Doctor Morton and Cadet Johnson are 
back from the lab and are in the treatment room with Doctor 
Brackett."

Roy spoke, "Thank you." 

Joe spoke up, "Let's go. I want to get Kel out of danger as 
soon as possible." 

Nickels held the door open for the group as they left the lounge.

-----------------------------------------------------------------

Seconds later, the group was back in the treatment
room. Morton looked up. "Films are clear. I gave him the
oral. BP's dropping tactilely. Still no signs of 
myocardial ischemia or left ventricular hypertrophy on EKG.
I've followed up with intravenous nitroprusside and labetalol
because Kel's still not bradycardic. And yes, I read your orders 
to not let his BP drop beyond a twenty percent reduction."

"Good. Last thing we need is organ perfusion problems on top
of everything else." said Joe. "Sharon, turn his O2 to P.E.E.P.
I want to normalize his respirations."

Kel who had regained a bit of strength in his voice asked, "Who's 
back?" he panted, opening stress swollen eyes.

Joe answered, "All of us, Kel."

Johnson spoke, "Doctor Early, we have the lab blood results."
Morton added, "And the urinalyses.." he said handing both
computer printout slips he gathered up from the firefighter.

Joe said, "Terrific. Let me see them." The requested lab reports 
were handed over. Joe continued, "Roy, get me another set 
of vitals. Make sure you take the BP in both arms."

Roy took the BP cuff and stethoscope that Sharon offered him 
as he said, "Yep."

While Roy took another set of vitals, Joe looked over Kel's 
test results and grimaced. The news was not unexpected, but 
still wasn't good. 

Joe's uncharacteristic quietness alerted Kel, even in the 
condition he was in, that something was far from right. 

Kel asked, "What's the damage, Joe? Don't sugar coat it."

Joe replied, "You know I won't do that, Kel. Let me get your 
updated numbers triangulated, then I'll explain."

Kel let out a frustrated sigh. He knew Joe was only doing his
job, but he couldn't shake the feeling that the news was going
to be ugly. "Okay."

Joe looked up. Roy answered his unasked question, "BP in both
arms is down, but still hypertensive at 160/120. Respirations 
are slightly labored at 30. Eyes are beginning to show unequal
pupils now, but they're still reactive." 

"That's got to be post HTN." Early double checked Kel's eyes
with his penlight. He found the presence of new retinal hemorrhages
and some thick exudate with papilledema. "No gross bleeding
though." He straightened up. "Kel, how's your pain now?"

"An eight..." he groaned.

Joe grimaced, the marginal vitals added to some already ugly 
news. He decided he couldn't put it off any longer. "Kel, do you want 
the good news first or the reason you're going to be staying in
ICU for at least the rest of the day next?"

Slightly agitated Kel replied, "Might as well start with the 
good, hopefully it involves getting me off this d*mn board."

Everybody in the room bit back a chuckle. 

Joe said, "Actually, yes it does. Your head films are negative so 
we can get you off the board. There are no signs of an active 
CVA occurring. None at all. We'll double check your reflexes in 
a bit to confirm that once you've been freed off c-spine."

Dixie spoke up, "Thank G*d." She thought ::Well, that's one 
point in his favor.::
 
Roy winked at Brackett and looked over at Johnny, 
"What do you say, Captain Junior? Wanna get the good doc 
off of the board here?"

Johnny replied, "You know it."

Johnson asked, "Need us?"

Roy replied, "Yeah, grab the board as we roll him."

Johnson nodded acquiescence. "Captain..."

Once the trio was in position, Johnny undid the straps. 
"Ready on your count, partner." he sighed at Roy, taking 
Brackett's ribs and hips in a grip through the sheets.

Roy nodded. Without a word, they carefully rolled Kel onto his
side on the head raised gurney.

Once he was tipped up, Johnson removed the board and called 
out, "It's clear." 

Johnny and Roy rolled Kel back on to his back without disturbing his
tubes and lines and lastly, they removed the cervical collar he had
been wearing.

Morton, who had quietly watched Brackett's EKG for adverse changes, 
commented, "Nothing stays the same, even after all these years, does 
it, boys?"

Roy and Johnny sighed and they both answered at the same time, 
"No it doesn't, Doc."

Kel piped up, "I'd never want it to. So I'm sick. Big hairy deal."

Dixie added, "Shhh!"

Kel tried to laugh as he focused on Joe. "All right, Joe, no 
mincemeat, d*mn it! What's the real damage?"

Nobody was surprised by Kel's attitude. In fact everybody 
but Johnson, expected it. The young firefighter still looked 
startled.

Joe took a deep breath and dove in head first. "Kel, bluntly put,
you've had a massive hypertensive crisis of ..unknown.. etiology. 
We need to get this and its cause under control STAT or you're 
gonna be in even more serious trouble later on."

"What are you thinking?" Brackett gasped, suddenly 
holding very still on the bed.

"Could be anything, Kel. You know that as well as I.
Renal parenchymal disease, tubulointerstitial nephritis,
Cushing syndrome, tyramine-containing food, or even
coarctation of the aorta." Early ticked off on his fingers.

"...which a vascular specialist can determine, if
it's there." Brackett sighed in worry.

"Precisely." Early admitted. "We've a long road to go
yet to find out how to manage your new condition."

Morton jumped in. "But we can do the standard for
now."
 
Joe turned to Morton, "Lets get him started on further
I.V. treatment. I want to get his BP down even more,
but we can't do it fast."

Morton nodded. "Okay, what do you want to use?"

Joe replied, "Start a second IV. We'll infuse one with 
nitroglycerin and the other with intravenous furosemide. Mike, 
call upstairs to the ICU to alert them that we're coming."

"Lasix's my ticket for the one day in ICU?" Kel guessed.

"Yep." Early told him.

"Sensible. I still might stroke out." Brackett admitted weakily.

"Oh, Kel. Think positive." Dixie chided. "I can't do it
for the both of us. I'm the worst basket case right now."

"I was kidding, Dix." Brackett half groaned.
 
Roy asked Early, "Doc, you want both in one arm?"

Joe answered, "No, it'll be harder to monitor drips that way."

Johnny had already pulled the drugs. He turned to Kel. 
"Doc, you have a preference where?"

Kel replied, "Right hand. Not antecubital. Let the new
guy start it." he said of Johnson. "I wanna see him work."

Roy smiled and indulged him.

Morton hung up the phone. "ICU's waiting for him."

Joe said, "Good to hear."

"Not good to hear." said Kel. "I know the nurses who're 
up there." he quipped unhappily.

Dixie added, "Hush. I'll be one of them. Let's go."

Brackett smiled slightly. "Yes, ma'am."

Johnny unfolded the IV pole on Kel's gurney and carefully
hung both IVs after they had been injected and double
checked for open flow rates.

Brackett began to shiver and Dixie quickly covered him
up in another shock sheet. "Easy. That's your lucky sign.
Your hypertension's over if you're feeling all this cold air
now."

"Pain's almost gone." Brackett sighed as he slipped into
sleep.

Joe spoke quickly, "Let's go. Sharon, go catch the 
elevator and stop it."

Sharon was already three-quarters of the way out 
of the door, "Yes, doctor." her voice floated back.

Johnson held the door open as Kel was wheeled out 
between Roy and Johnny, in their grip. Joe and Mike 
followed closely behind with the portable crash cart
and his chart.
 
And as she promised, Dixie did not leave Kel's side.

Kel slowly relaxed out of the picture. His tension 
was still there due to the seriousness of his condition, 
but it was mixed with relief that part of the problem 
had been found. His loss of consciousness was 
welcomed by his doctors and his paramedics who
turned him onto his side for ease of airway care.

-------------------------------------------------

Fifteen minutes later, Joe, Mike, Roy and Johnny 
left Dixie at Kel's bedside in the ICU.

Joe turned to the former paramedic partners, 
"I know it's been years boys, but you still have it."

Morton added, "Thanks for all the help with Kel. I'm
sure he'll be thanking you, too, once he's feeling 
better. And soon." he promised.

"Thanks, that reassurance means a lot to us."
Roy and Johnny both said, "You're welcome, docs."

Mike and Joe left to tend to Kel once more. 

Johnny turned to Roy and said...

-------------------------------------------------

Photo:  Brackett lying sick in bed, sweaty.

Photo:  Dix kissing Kel on a couch at home.

Photo:  Roy and Johnny looking serious in turnout at Rampart.

Photo:  Roy and Johnny in the nurse's lounge with a drug box.

Photo:  Joe treating a patient with Gage and a cop nearby.

Photo:  Morton setting up tubing for a test near Johnny.

Photo:  Gage talking to Roy in a treatment room.

Photo:  Gage and DeSoto looking at each other in conversation.

***************************************************
Subject:The Mortal Vein
From: patti keiper (pattik1@hotmail.com) 
Sent: Wed 4/02/08 10:29 PM 

The doors closed on the critical care room where Dr. Brackett
lay quietly sedated.

DeSoto and Gage made their way down the busy corridor
and automatically stopped at their usual drinking fountain
to wet their mouths that had parched with worry for Kel.

"Wow." said Johnny., leaning against the wall. "When did we
get so old?"

"How do you mean?" asked Roy, watching his past partner
turned fire captain grooming his hair in the reflection of the
fountain's splash chrome. He was subconsciously searching
for gray strands there. 

"I...he.. The doc's changed so much." Johnny agonized, agape.

Roy smiled gently. "We're all mortal, Johnny. We change a little bit
every day. And as much as I know you really want it to, it
never stops."

Johnny studied his training ground dusted shoes and stuck his
hands into his pockets. "I don't know why I hate change. I just do."
he murmured, smiling crookedly. "Seeing Dr. Brackett in there,
looking a whole lot like Joe Early's twin brother.." he said, circling
a few fingers over his head over his wind disarrayed curls. "It
almost threw me for a loop, man."

Roy nodded in understanding.

"...But he's a happy man, Roy." Gage sighed finally, incredulous.

"Oh? How can you tell?" DeSoto asked, angling his head.

"He's got that secret of his going on." Johnny snorted. "I'm almost
jealous...."

Roy laughed outright when Johnny went on.

"...I had a crush on Dixie once. Like you wouldn't believe. But I never
let on." Gage continued.

DeSoto grinned. "I knew."

Johnny's face fell. "You did?"

"Yep." said Roy. "It was your ears that gave you away. They flushed
bright red as I recall for a whole month there whenever Dixie's voice
came over the biophone..." he admitted, rubbing his nose in amusement.

Gage made a face.

"Don't worry about it." Roy said, throwing a hand out in dismissal. "That
can still be your own little privately dead secret."

Johnny relaxed. 

Roy re-hefted up the critical care gear box that he was still carrying.
"Come on, Captain Junior. Let's go grab a bite to eat. I wanna see if
the coconut pie's still as bad as I remember it."
Together, the two headed away from Emergency for the cafeteria.
"We can resupply and pick up our two scene oggling cadets when 
we're through."

"Sounds good." said Johnny.

"You're kidding me, right?" Roy said, his mouth flopping open.

"I meant the plan, Captain Pally," Gage clarified. "..not the pie."
he chuckled, as he picked up the oxygen apparatus that had been 
his to haul in. "I'm buying..  I'm finally rich enough for once."

Roy cracked up and shook his head ruefully.

---------------------------------------------------------------

Photo:  Roy and Johnny walking down a Rampart hall with drugboxes.

Photo:  Roy and Johnny having a deep discussion in the waiting room.

Photo:  Roy and Johnny regarding each other seriously, worried.

**************************************************
From: patti keiper <pattik1@hotmail.com> 
Date: Sat Apr 12, 2008 12:32 am 
Subject: Here's To Hounds, Hats and Happy Times.. 


Roy and Johnny couldn't suppress a smile of
nostalgia as they parked their borrowed red Battalion
car in the side lot next to the gas pump of Station 
51. Eagerly, Johnson and Nickels made for the back
yard after spotting a few of their firefighter colleagues
up on the tower, hanging hose. "Thanks, Captains,
for taking us here for lunch. Now we can pick some
brains about the upcoming paramedic exam." Johnson
said for Nickles.

Half heartedly, Captain Gage looked over their heads, trying 
to eyeball who still consisted of 51's crew where they were
barely visible up over the roof as they worked, through
the tall, breeze tossing torrey pine tree. "Yeah, sure. No 
problem. We have to meet up with Captain Stanley anyway 
for the latest headquarters meeting minutes. It was his turn 
to take notes for the month. And nice work at the hospital
earlier. You guys kept perfect, cool heads. That's what's
needed."

"Like real pros.." Captain DeSoto added.

The two beamed sheepishly. Johnny barely noticed the two 
young firemen as they took off down the driveway alongside the 
station. 

Roy began smiling. "Think he still remembers us?" he teased.

"Hank? Yeah." Gage scoffed, amused. "How can he forget us? 
We were his very first paramedic team. And hopefully, not the
worst one he's had so far to date."

"No risk of that. We were good enough to get promoted, weren't
we?"

"I guess. But I still kinda wonder how we rank up, ya know?"

Roy just sighed. "Okay, let's go ask him then. Just to appease
that worry streak you've still got going on."

"I'm not worrying. I'm just--"

"...making mountains out of moleholes. As usual. Don't fret about
it any. That's one of the personality traits that probably endears ya
to your men the most." DeSoto said, punching the code combo that
opened the outer door leading into Cap's office from the sidewalk.

Hank wasn't at his desk. Gage flipped up his watch hand. "Oh. It's
noon." he said, reading the time myopically. "He's probably pulling 
kitchen detail."

"He's got us to thank for that." Roy chuckled. "Remember?"

"Yeah, it was after we saved him from his quarry mine fall the week
Chief McConnike died. I'll never forget the look on his face as
he was repairing Melton's burned hat on the kitchen table.."
Gage admitted. "I wonder what made him so thoughtful that
day."

"Only Hank knows for sure." Roy told him. "Come on, let's
surprise the guys and set the table for everybody. If
they're hanging hose, they haven't had the time to do it
yet."

"You're right about that. But I still wonder what really happened
back then that changed him so much that day. It was like
Stanley had become a different man." As they walked through the 
firefighter empty vehicle bay, Johnny's memory expanded into 
another daydream of the past as he ran his hand along the sleek 
side of their old rescue squad, parked in its usual place...

********************************************
From : "Patti Keiper" <pattik1@hotmail.com>
Subject : Recovering the Past..
Date: Wed, 16 Apr 2003 23:30:14 +0000 

(From Episode Six, The Golden Horn)

Hank Stanley adjusted his sling around his
loose fitting nautical ivory carnigan and he
sighed deeply, ...just before he rang the
McConnike household doorbell.

The white lacy curtain on the other side
of the pane of glass shifted briefly, as
the slight form of Gail McConnike checked to
see who had come calling so early in the morning.
She was still tired from days of crying since
the funeral. But Gail instantly changed her
outward demeanor when she saw who it was
who'd come calling. "Hank.. you've been
discharged from the hospital so soon?"

Hank Stanley pulled the bundle of white roses
with a gold enveloped sympathy card nestled
inside of them, from behind his back. "I...sort
of made a pest of myself, Gail. You see.. I...
had to come here. Sort of knew I....needed to
be here, now.. For you and your daughter."

Gail accepted the perfumey blooms, taking
comfort in their heady, water coaxed aroma.
"Thank you, Hank. Won't you come in?"

Cap nodded self consciously and he
only sat himself down on the flower patterned
couch when she insisted that he do so.
"So how are you holding up..?" he asked
without preamble. "I...sort of feel compelled
to ask you that. Stop me if I'm too personal
here. I- I--I don't want to overstep my bounds."

Gail's freckled face finally beamed inside a
frame of silver white and black curls. "Now
that's Melton rubbing off on you again. Right
to the core, Hank Adams Stanley. And you know it.
When you're in this house I expect you to be yourself
and yourself only. Is that clear?" she smiled slightly.

"Yes, maam.." Cap said, falling into a moment of
remembering the Chief's last words spoken to him 
that day on the shoreline. He wasn't even sure that
it really happened. Days later, as he lay healing in his 
hospital bed, he decided that how he had come to 
experience them didn't matter. What was important 
was realizing the profound effect that the Chief was still 
having on both their lives. Cap tentatively reached out 
and took Gail's hand in warm, close friendship. 
"Hard to break a habit engrained in my very fiber. 
Melton is still very much in my thoughts. There 
isn't a day that passes when I don't think of him."

"Join the club.." Gail said gently. "Would you like
a drink? Coffee? Tea?"

"No, no thanks. I'm fine. I'm just about ready to
stop by the stationhouse and let the guys know
how I'm faring. They invited me to breakfast to
celebrate my breaking out of Rampart."

Gail laughed gently. "No doubt it's Marco's mom's
tamales again.." she guessed.

"How'd you know..?"

"It's Wednesday. Melton always used to bother
you men on A shift each month on surprise inspection 
just so he could have an excuse to eat those wonderful
tamales with you."

Cap's eyes smiled and he folded his good hand onto
his lap.

"So how are YOU doing? That broken arm hurt much?" Gail 
McConnike asked of Cap's sling, misguessing what it was for.

"I just had some surgery to repair an artery that's all. 
I didn't break anything. It doesn't hurt much anymore.
Brackett's a wonderful vascular surgeon. I-I...I am
healing just fine. " Cap looked down and his eyes
fell on the coffee table to the maroon photo album
that lay there of Melton McConnike. It was opened, ironically
to the days when Cap was a new firefighter under him.

On the second page, there was an unexpected shot 
from the day Cap first became Captain of Station 51. From
the first moments in fact, when he had fired off his first 
surprise dress inspection on his new crew at 51 just to 
stretch his newly appointed rank's muscle. It surprised
Hank that the photo was even there. He hadn't remembered
there even being a photographer present on that day.

But then again, six years of similar inspections and
years of runs made it difficult for recalling any great detail
of his first day as "Cap". Hank remembered feeling far
too nervous to remember much of anything.
Seeing his own men, younger, and very sharp in their
dress uniforms, gave Hank courage to return the question
back at Gail. "So, how are you healing, Gail? It can't
be easy for you to adjust at all. Again, stop me if I'm 
being too personal, please.." he insisted.

Gail noticed the picture that Cap's eyes were focused
on and she slowly drew it out of the album so Cap
could take a better look at it. "Here.." she said, after
a slight hesitation. "Then keep it. It's a gift.."

"No, no, no.. I - I couldn't take this. It belonged to
the Chief.. I..."

"Hank. It's yours now. Melton frequently sent photographers
out to the stations where his first old crew each promoted 
into in order to hand those images back out to them during
a special occasion, or other moving moment such as.." 
and her voice broke off..

Hank finished her thought for her. "...such as during
a fireman's funeral.."

Gail smiled slightly. "Only with your station, Hank, he never
ever got a chance to. You were too d*mned good at
keeping all your men's rears intact.." she joked.
"Melton loved that about you. One of the only captains
to never lose a man."

"Careful, Gail, you might jinx me.."

"Rubbish.. Superstition is for fools..."

"And firehouse captains.." Hank quipped, waiting for
Gail to gather herself to answer his question.

"True.." she admitted. Then her eyes grew bright with
a sadness that only hinted the depth of her grief that was
still very much a part of her existence." I'm taking
it one day at a time." she sighed. "Friends make my
days bearable. They bring food, flowers.." she laughed,
indicating the vase that Cap had brought to her.
"But the nights are the worse. I can...almost.....feel
him in bed beside me sometimes. " she confessed.

Cap just nodded. But then he leaned forward,
taking Gail's hand once more in comfort. 
"This is going to sound crazy, but I had a chance
to ...feel ...him around me, too. I can't explain it, Gail.
And I'm not even going to try. All that kept running
through my mind while I lay there in deep shock on
that shoreline, was how much the Chief loved you 
and how much he wanted you to be all right with 
his going..."

Gail's eyes filled and she firmly placed her
other hand on Hank's and squeezed. "That's
a two way street, Hank. You see, a few days
before the accident, Melton wanted me to call you
about a gift he wanted to bring you in July
for the next annual fireman's picnic.."

"Oh?"

"Wait right here.." And Gail swept out
of the sunny Victorian parlor into the
den Cap could just barely see. She returned with
a box that seemed to be stuffed with
shredded white tissue paper.  Gail took the 
picture of Cap's first official inspection from
his hand and replaced it with her gift.

"What's this?"

Gail's face grinned. "Open it and see.
This is part two to go along with your
debut captain's photo."

Hank swallowed and opened the box.

The white delicate tissue paper fell
away to reveal an old fireman's dress
hat. It had a charred brown edged hole crowning
where its headpiece frame cloth had
been burned away and the metal worked
captain's rank front emblem was still 
holding its shape where the stretched cloth 
used to be.

Captain Stanley gasped when he realized
what it was.. "He saved this?"

"Of course he did. It was the first time a
junior man ever held him accountable for
questionable behavior and Melton always
said that it was an extremely valuable lesson
he learned that day." her voice adopted a
McConnike sounding timbre. "Never wound
a newbie in an inspection line no matter
how tempting a joke might be. Or it'll come
back to bite you.." she concluded. "He saved
that as a reminder of you. Your revenge taken
by burning this had a profound effect on Melton.
He never tired of watching your career grow or
watching you develop the skills and integrity
that a true captain of the line only rarely gains.
He was so proud of you, Hank."

Cap's eyes filled likewise and he gently touched
an ashen edge of the hole in McConnike's old
cap's hat. "I never knew.."

"And I never knew how dedicated you were
to him, until the day you had that courier
come to my house with his white helmet for the
funeral with a letter from both you and Ben.
I was deeply touched to learn that both of you 
were adamantly refusing the department's move
to promote one of you to the Chief's spot, 
in his honor.."

"It's the least we could have done. The way
they fill a gap's sometimes heartlessly swift."

"Well, that helmet's back in service now.
I called Ben Stone myself and asked him to accept
the post. He's been training for it all this
week while you were still in the hospital. I--I hope
I made the right decision in my recommendation
to the Department heads. I know how much you 
would miss your men if I had urged you to take it.
You would have done it in a heartbeat out of loyalty
to me and Melton, without regard for your own 
wants and desires."

"Gail.. That's not true.."

"In a pig's eye, Hank. Look, you're not even meeting
ME in the eye so I know you're lying.." she smirked.
"I've had the time I needed, Hank. It's ok for someone
else to carry on the job Melton loved so much. I'm
ready to see the Chief's spot pass on to the next man
believe me. I wouldn't have sent the helmet back
if I hadn't thought so."

"You sure you didn't do that out of some quirky 
loyalty you might have to all of us captains
that Chief McConnike has trained?"

"Well, maybe just a little.." Gail admitted at last,
smoothing down her paisley china blue apron.

Hank smiled, gently putting away the ancient
hat back into its box along with the photo Gail
had given him. "Then loyalty must be an infection 
that knows no bounds for we are both afflicted with 
it most grieviously. And for that matter, so was Melton.
For it is because of him that we're both now sitting 
here talking about the future."

"A future that I thought I would never be able
to face. Yet,  now I am.." Gail said, her face
dawning with sudden comprehension.

"I'm very glad to hear that. To a degree that
you couldn't even possibly imagine."
Cap replied softly. He slowly caressed the
hat box under his hand, marveling in the soothing
feel its surface had on his skin and his soul.

----------------------------------------------------------

The sun was so far set that Mike Stoker had
already taken in the station flags. Cap
had not moved from his space at the kitchen
table. 

In front of him was a bolt of white cotton cloth,
fabric glue and a stretching frame.

Roy, Johnny, Chet, Marco and Mike all watched
with fascination as Cap completed his restoration
of the famous burned McConnikee hat. No one was
brave enough to ask how Cap had come by it again
after so many years. But finally, Chet came
out with it.

"So why'd ya do it?"

The room fell silent, even the sounds of four pairs
of lungs suddenly stopping their breathing in shock 
at Kelly's bold bravado.

"Huh?" Hank grunted as he carefully painted gold
leafing over the captain's rank crest on the newly
restored hat's metal working, distracted. Then
the question finally sank in. "Oh,.. uh, well. Let
me set this brush down first. Let's see. The reason
why.. Hmmmmm."

"Cap.." Gage complained.

"Oh, ok. ok. This is how it was. Well, you know
how you and Kelly got into that game one year with the
waterbombs in the whole Phantom fiasco?"

"Yeah.." Kelly said, swallowing nervously at
finally being on the verge of getting the answer
every man in the department wanted to know about
Hank Stanley.

"Well, the Chief and I got into it in the same
way.. Only we used firecrackers instead of water.."

Roy started to snicker.. "Y-You planted a firecracker 
in his hat?"

Cap grinned guiltily, blowing softly on his careful
painting, so the 24 carat gold guilding would dry 
with a rich shine. "Yeah, won that oneupmanship 
AND the running bet that HQ heads had riding on us. 
Believe me, it was worth every hour I spent cleaning 
the latrine with a toothbrush."

"So that's why you never give yourself that chore
to do. You hate it so much because it reminds
you of this burned hat.." Kelly said, putting two
and two together.

"Not anymore. In fact, as soon as I get my arm
healed and get back on the duty rosters, I'll pull
the can detail first day, like it SHOULD rotate 
through. There'll be no more of my pulling rank
around here inside the station. Things are gonna 
be fair and square from now on."

"Hey hey hey..." John and the guys celebrated.

"Does that mean when I pull a prank on Gage in
the future, that you won't be threatening me
with a hose tower detail?"

"That standing order penalty doesn't count, Kelly. 
The tower's outside the station. I said I'd be
fair about what goes on in HERE."

 "Oh.." said the gang, severely disappointed.

Upon hearing that, Chet, Roy and Johnny fell 
into age old grimaces of frustration, in three 
familiar poses of see no, hear no, speak no 
evil.

Cap never saw their dismay. He was too
busy repairing the symbol that used to be
a source of pain that was now his 
ultimate destiny.

-------------------------------------------------

The next day, a tall figure in a dress suit
fireman's outfit left his car inside the rural
Burbank cemetery whose address a new widow 
had shared with him. It was approaching sunset.

Cap Stanley walked respectfully to a recently groomed
grave and his understanding eyes fell on the name
carved there on the rosy marble. He traced
the name's lettering with a finger from his good hand
and briefly rested on the still sun warmed stone,
relishing the heat radiating there. "Chief.. I'm sorry I 
wasn't there when you were laid to rest here that day. 
But I sure know that you were there for me that afternoon
in the quarry. I can never repay the debt I owe
you for making me fight to live."

He sighed and smiled and then he said.
"I hope this makes up for it at least a little bit."

Cap brought out the chief's old cap's hat, now 
appearing like new, untarnished and crisp. 
::It's been restored with the love only two firefighters 
can share.:: Stanley wondered as he held it close.
 
Hank hung it on the flower holder attached to the 
stone marker and touched it one final time. As an 
afterthought, Cap left behind another gift for the 
man still looming so large in his life; his own 
double bugle dress rank pin of captain.

The dimming sun glinted once on the insignia
and it sparkled like the purest gold into
his eyes as his fingers set it on the top of
McConnike's snow white and black dress hat. 
"Here's to that big alarm call in the sky, Chief. 
Hope you're there commanding the scene first
at every one of them. And if you meet up with 
any other of the boys who didn't make it, 
tell them I'm thinking of them, too..... 
This is Station 51, KMG 365. Over and out."

Hank Stanley began to smile as he
made his way back to his car in the
newly gathering, tender summer night.

Something deep inside of him that
had been coiled tightly for so long,
unraveled. Hank's relief was so profound,
that it drew healing tears to his eyes
that ran unchecked, down his cheeks.
 
Cap's heart, was now finally, at peace.

Hank Stanley drove back to his station
to a future that he now knew with absolute 
certainty as still belonging to him in every 
sense of the word.
 
Behind, in the darkness, a wrinkle
on the hat Cap had repaired, smoothed
itself out in the moonlit wind, until it was 
inspection perfect, as if by an invisible 
hand from Chief Melton McConnike.

As if in agreement, a distant L.A. county
siren answering a tones out call, wove
through the peacefully sleeping cemetery,
like a lullaby.

------------------------------------------------

A warm voice broke Johnny out of his reverie.
"Roy? Johnny? What a pleasant surprise!" beamed
Hank as he turned from the stove where he was basting
garlic bread and stirring a pot of his trademark clam
chowder. "Don't tell me. You're here for the minutes."

"Fraid so. Sorry we're late." DeSoto said, taking off his white 
hat. "We ran into a little excitement at Rampart running
a mock code in with two trainees."

"Oh?" said Cap, scratching his thick white bushy sideburns.
"What happened?"

"Brackett fell sick, but he's gonna be okay. We were there
to bail him out of it in time. Something that's easily treatable."
Gage replied, mindful of keeping confidential details.

"That's good to hear. How's Dixie these days? I never hear
her over the biocom anymore on medical calls."

"She's been bumped upstairs. Unit Coordinator." Roy offered.

"And she's getting a new name soon." Gage simpered in
amusement, not minding the breaking of that little secret.

Hank's mouth fell into shock. "No,.. really? Tying the knot with Kel
is she? Well, I'll be d*mn*d. Can't say they aren't a good match for
each other. We have been wondering about those two for years now.
Coffee?" he offered, hefting up the always ready pot on the third
burner in front of him.

"Please.." said both, helping themselves to their old mugs that
still rested inside the cupboard. Johnny wasn't beneath standing
to one side as he opened the door. 

Hank guffawed at that old habit. "No water cans. That old Chet tradition, 
I forbid to every new guy that comes to the station. Eventually, I'll snuff 
out the tendency."

"Do you really want to?" DeSoto asked. 

"Yeah, I'm getting old enough to get nailed by those boobytraps whenever
I suffer a brain fart." Stanley admitted, as he pushed up reading glasses
onto his nose. 

Gage started up. "Who's still here?"

"Just about everybody. But the chores come first." Hank said, holding
up an admonishing finger out of habit. "Oh, uh... that's right. 
I can't do that to you guys any more. We're all the same rank."

Gage and DeSoto just chuckled at the Cap inspired warning. 
"Don't worry. We won't disturb 'em until they're done." Johnny
promised. His eyes cast over to the leather couch under
the windows. His face fell when he realized the shiny cushions
weren't dimpled with a dog sized impression any more. "Cap,
uh.. Where's Henry?"

"Back home." Stanley laughed, brandishing a dripping ladle.
"His real owner came to claim him sometime last year. And
you'll never guess who that was..."

"Oh?" asked Roy, sipping his black coffee.

"Doc Coolidge came in one day to warm up a bit in between
animal control calls and stopped dead in his tracks when he spied
Ol' Henry on the cushions, wagging his tail at him." Hank said. "Coolidge 
opened his mouth in total shock and he said, 'I've wondered where he ran 
off to. We guessed the meat store tiger recovering at the shelter had 
most likely scared him off.' " Cap relayed.

Gage started laughing from under his white hat's brim and almost
choked on his full mouthful of Folder's.  "So Henry's been on the lam for six 
years from Coolidge? Gotta hand it to him, a firehouse makes a great hiding 
place. Oh, man. Did we have good times with Henry..." he said fondly,
remembering.

"And not so good ones. I'll never forget the time Henry was caught in
that field fire.." Stanley told them.

Memory stirred in all three of them instantly...

*********************************************************************
From:  "patti keiper" <pattik1@hotmail.com> 
Date:  Thu Aug 26, 2004  4:11 pm 
Subject:  Straight from the...

(From Episode Thirteen, The White Engine)

Chet was peeling his air mask off, carrying Gage's unused medical
gear to put it away, when his foot struck a heavy warm body. 

It was Henry, lying completely still, covered in dark soot. 

Kelly got on his radio immediately. "Cap, Gage! On the double! 
I found Henry! He's down! Bottom of the hill along the stokes line."

Chet lifted up a leg and felt the dog's stomach for signs of 
movement and found only a weak rocking as Henry tried to breathe. 
Reaching down into the dog's mouth, Chet hooked Henry's tongue 
clear with a gloved finger until he got it hanging out between his teeth. 

Henry whimpered, choking on mucous. But then he woke up.

"Easy, boy.  It's ok, I'm right here." Chet whispered, kneeling
by Henry's face. "Stay down, boy. Stay still." he said, holding
Henry's singed muzzle. Kelly glanced down and saw Stevie's inhaler 
next to Henry's shivering front paws. "You found this boy? Good dog. 
I'll be sure Johnny and Roy get it just as soon as you're squared away
yourself."

Henry tried to wag his tail.

Chet took off his coat and covered up the nearly smoke suffocated
station mascot. "It's ok. You're gonna be fine, Henry.."

Johnny Gage and Cap pounded down the hill along the climbing 
rope with the O2 apparatus held between them for leverage.

Kelly shouted. "Over here!"

Johnny knelt quickly, taking Henry's muzzle between his hands
in a precautionary move to protect himself from a bite. 
"Did he fall?"

"I don't think so. Man, he went back for those kids," Chet
sobbed, "..and this.." he said, holding out the little boy's
tooth indented inhaler.

Gage ran careful hands over Henry's coat, looking for
liquid. "He's not burned at all. I think that smell is just his
hair. Cap, you got him?"

"Yeah." Hank said gently, taking over the hold on Henry's head.

Kelly said. "He wasn't breathing too well when I got here. Tongue
was in the way."

Cap nodded. "Johnny.... think we can move him?"

"Yeah.. I'm not a vet, but he's not tensing up anywhere with me
touching him like this. I think he's ok trauma wise. Sounds like
his only problem is the smoke he took in. I think you can let go,
Cap."

Hank did so, exchanging his hands grip for a valve mask on high
flow over Henry's muzzle. He looked up. "Kelly, Roy's ready to 
transport the boy. Go drive him in."

"But Cap.. I wanna stay with H--"

"That wasn't a request, Chet. Johnny and I'll handle Henry
and the little girl. Now, go.." Cap said, tossing Kelly
the medicated inhaler Henry had carried.

Chet went.

Captain Stone came running down the hill with a short board, 
passing Kelly going the other way. "I heard. Is he ok?"

"He will be if we can get some good air in him and 
warm him up some." Gage admitted with a grin.
"We'll take him to the V-E-T-S once we have that done.
Thanks for the doggy stretcher.." he smiled, taking
the kendrick board from Stone.

The three firemen slid Henry onto the board and strapped him
in for the trip up the hill. Cap followed keeping the O2 mask
nearby for Henry to use while he slowly woke up.


At the top, Becky met them, sitting next to Mike Stoker.
"There he is! Our superhero dog! Is he ok?" as they set
him on the ground, freed him off the board, and wrapped 
him up in thermal sheets for insulation.

"He'll be just fine, little miss. Although right now, I'm afraid 
he's got the same problem you do." Johnny said. "You both've
more smoke than air in your lungs then what's actually good for 
ya so before we get to see a doctor and the vets, you both
are gonna clean some of that bad stuff out of there, ok.?"

"Ok.." agreed Becky, brushing the hair away from her face
and the nasal cannula she was wearing.

Cap held Henry personally in his lap when Captain Stone
volunteered to take over the clean up detail on the house.
"Stoker, we'll give them five on this O2 and then we'll take
them in with the engine. We'll relay the girls vitals via radio
patch. Marco, get us set to travel."

"Right, Cap."

----------------------------------------------------------------------------------

On the trip in, Henry suddenly went limp two minutes
away from Rampart. 

Marco tried to keep the commotion up front in the cab away 
from Becky's notice as his crewmates hustled to help him.

"Are we almost there yet?" she asked Lopez.

Marco was watching what Cap and Johnny were doing
with Henry so closely, that he almost didn't hear her. "Hmm? Oh.
We've a block to go. We'll be pulling up to the ambulance 
entrance. Can you see that door yet?" he asked the child.

Becky plastered her eyes and nose and cannula against
the glass, peering out. "Not yet.."

Lopez thought. ::Please Henry. Don't be dead. Not yet.::

-----------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Roy was hanging around Dixie's desk when Lopez and
Stoker appeared around the corner with a devastated look
on their faces. 

Chet Kelly ran over to them instantly. 
"How's Henry?"

"He's out cold. Happened a minute ago. It's something past the 
smoke inhalation. Cap's with him now."

"Where's Johnny?" Roy asked quietly.

"He's with his patient in room three. You know he 
can't leave a victim until a doc gets there."

"Show me. Maybe I can do something.." DeSoto said.

Dixie, at her desk, overheard them. She followed the sooty 
firemen to the emergency entrance doors and out
into the driveway beyond.

Her heart just about broke when she saw Captain Stanley 
trying to ventilate the limp basset hound stretched out 
on an empty gurney with a mask two sizes too big.
 
She snatched up a pediatric sized resuscitation kit from a 
crash cart and tossed it to Roy. "Roy! I'll make a few phone calls! 
The doc at the animal shelter still has a link set up tied to our base 
station."

 "Through the HT this time? That'll work." DeSoto nodded and  
he threw his handy talkie on the bed,  tearing open the airway adjunct 
bag as the doors shut between them.

The firemen experimented and a baby ambu with hastily wrapped 
bandage tape around Henry's muzzle created a good enough seal 
for them to finally pump in oxygen.  Henry's gums began to pink up once more.
Roy could still feel a pulse in the artery at the point inside 
Henry's rear thigh. But it was irregular. "What?" he said
aloud. "That can't be." he sighed, as it thudded erratically against his thumb.

Cap noticed, looking up from Marco who was bagging
Henry carefully. "What's the problem?"

Kelly looked scared. "What is it?"

Roy swallowed, "I think Henry might be having a heart attack."
 
*****************************************************************************
From :  Champagne Scott <chameleonkate@hotmail.com> 
Sent :  Friday, August 27, 2004 7:09 PM 
Subject :  Fast Times at Rampart Base : The Dog Day Afternoon 
   

Dixie McCall made the fastest phone call of her life.
And then she glared the fiercest that she had ever glared 
at the back of Kel Brackett's head. He was just completing an 
in house phone call with the new resident assigned to the 
paramedic base station. ::Boy, I sure wish Joe could've been
here or I wouldn't have found myself in such a ridiculous bind!::

Dr. Brackett finally rubbed the back of his head in sympathetic
heebee jeebies. He turned to find the source of his chills.
"Oh, no.." he moaned in warning at Dixie who was already
batting her eyes diplomatically. "What are you up to now?
I've lunch in five minutes."

"Nothing much." Dix demurred. "A single phone call. Just 
take it. Here." she said passing over the phone to Kel without 
meeting his eyes.

Kel took it as if it were a live rattlesnake. "Kel Brackett, Cardiology."
he said into the receiver.

##Doctor Kel Brackett! Land sakes! Am I glad it was YOU that sweet
young nurse found milling about the place. Now let's get down to
business, shall we?## said the voice on the other end of the phone.

Kel buried the red phone line on his shoulder. "Dix who the h*ll is
this? His voice sounds familiar, but I can't place him."

"That's Barney Coolidge. Don't you remember? Bah-ah-ah-ah-ah-ah-hhhh."
she said in a fair imitation of a Pygmy African wild goat.

Kel shuddered as the sound sent chills up and down his arms as
the memory speared home in recollection. "You didn't.." he warned.
"I thought I told you I'd tender a three day suspension on anyone on the 
staff, including you, who brings the next animal of any kind into my hospital's 
emergency ward!"

Dixie didn't ruffle one iota. "There aren't any animals in here. 
I didn't break any rules. I followed your stipulations to the letter."

"Good."

"Henry's not inside, he's outside on a gurney being barely kept alive by ambu."

Kel Brackett's face scowled into pure steel and he ground his perfectly
white teeth together. Already, the eggs from breakfast decided to sit
like stones in his stomach. "Dixie. Now cut it out."

She cleared her throat, tapping her foot and calmly indicated the live phone
on Kel's neck. Soon, Dr. Brackett's better sense of decorum 
among peer level colleagues finally won out over letting loose one of his 
legendary tantrums. "I'll deal with you later.." he promised voicelessly to his 
conniving head nurse, who hardly fought to keep a smile of triumph off of 
her face. 

Kel picked up the chatting phone and said falsely cheerful, "Ah, Doc 
Coolidge. What can I do for you this fine day?"  

Dixie smacked him on the arm for interjecting sarcasm.
Then she rapidly kicked on the speaker phone to keep Kel at bay with
civility as the conversation included any nearby overhearing sets of ears.

Dr. Brackett glared again at Dixie but stayed silent verbally when
Barney realized that he had the cardiologist's attention back. 

Coolidge gushed his needs. ##We've got to hurry. Now dogs don't
have myocardial infarcts in the same sense that people do. They simply
don't live long enough, even with their all meat diets, to build up 
the necessary plaques to cause one. Besides they all have collateral circulation 
of the coronary arteries..## he bubbled, ##..which allow the clots to "go around" an 
occlusion that would cause an MI in a human being. No, most likely
this basset hound is suffering something congenital brought out
by his sudden exposure to that fire smoke. Now what have you found, 
doctor, vitals wise?##

Kel stabbed down the speaker button until it clicked off back into phone
mode and he parked it once more onto a muffling shoulder. "Dix, how
much haven't you told him? I'm not going to look at that dog now, later,
next week, or even next year! I'm a busy man ! And a hungry one who's 
over five minutes late for his lunch hour." and he turned to leave, forgetting
about the phone.

Dixie caught the receiver as it slipped off its precarious perch.
"Kel, This isn't just a dog in need. This is Roy and Johnny's stationhouse
dog. Their beloved mascot. And he just saved the life of that asthma case
you just saw in Treatment Two. Along with three other children's lives. Now he
deserves a fighting chance! If you won't treat Henry right this instant, I'll
find Stan the new resident intern and ask him to take over."  She slammed
a hand down on the transfer button which sent the connection from
the animal shelter onto the HT frequency monitor board. Then she hefted
up a handy talkie reserved for mobile communications meaningfully.

Kel Brackett stopped her. "I'm the senior physician here! No one
is going to tell one of my residents to do anything." he groused.
"I forbid you to do it,  Nurse." he threatened.

Dixie's eyes flamed. "Ok. Shoo! Go on. Leave now for the cafeteria. I dare you.
Bon appetit. I hope your meal sits well after you're done cause later
you're gonna hear six full grown firefighters bawl like babies when their favorite
mascot dies for want of decent medical care a hundred feet away from
one of the best cardiologists this hospital has ever seen!" she hissed.

Kel's face twitched and his rage immediately simmered to non existence.
He growled and snatched away the live radio from Dixie's hand.
"Coolidge. Stand by. I'm going to talk to a paramedic who's been
with the dog right now."

##Roger that, we're standing by. Both Laura and I.## Barney beamed
through the channel.

Brackett sighed like a steam engine and bowled over half a dozen slow
staff members as he moodily plowed out the emergency entrance doors
as fast as his legs could carry him.

Roy DeSoto and the other firefighters stood shell shocked and rigid 
and there was only the sound of the hissing ambu working for Henry 
evident after Kel's stormy appearance. They all froze, locked eye 
to eye, in anticipation of Kel Brackett's wrath.

The blond paramedic licked dry lips. "Uh, hi doc. I got this Mayfair
all set up. Dix thought of i---  Uh... Let's see... I assume any care will fall around
pediatric cardiac standards.  I got alligator clips for the EKG monitor since
pads won't work,..a-a-and plenty of defib gel so a signal can get through
Henry's...thick.....coat hair.." he trailed off as Kel Brackett's face twitched
again as he took in the expressions of all of Station 51's men who were partially 
blocking his ambulance entrance with an obscene white fire engine.

"Dix.. " he finally sputtered. "This is absolutely.. the last time I ever-" he began.

"It sure is.." McCall peeped. "Thanks a bunch."
"Here, doc. I got the paddles ready so you can get a quick look for the doc." Roy said.
"He's ventilating well, doc. No aspirating." said Hank.
"Starting to twitch in his tail even.." piped up Chet.

Brackett's voice rose in a level above the babble.
"Everybody just... ShhhHHHHH! "

Everybody hushed. Except for Marco, who was being Henry's lungs. He kept counting.

"Get him inside here. And close the doors before anybody sees us.
Roy, in with me. And get Gage in here, too, from that treatment room. 
Stat." ordered Kel, embarrassed when gawkers saw the patient wasn't a child
needing a fast unload from the parked ambulance.

"I'll handle that.." said Dixie, dashing back through the automatic doors.
As she sidled past, she landed a wet grateful peck on Brackett's nearest 
cheek in gratitude. "I love you, Kel. Dinner tonight's on me!" she squealed,
slamming the ambulance door in his face after she clambered out
of the Mayfair.

##Doctor. Speak to me.." commanded Coolidge's voice over the HT.
"We haven't much time to play with from what I've heard.## came
the disembodied voice from the speaker.

"I'm here, Doctor Coolidge. What should I do first?" Kel asked over
the radio.

Roy stood by with his, as a backup source of information.

##Get me an EKG over the biophone. Now I know it already works,
since you got one off little William the goat just fine last year.##
said Coolidge.

Kel's face twitched again as he remembered his acute embarrassment
over the biophone when Johnny Gage had told him who the patient was
during that little fiasco.

Roy's face flushed crimson.

But Doc Coolidge caught none of the theatrics. ##Now from
right lateral recumbancy, place the monitor clips on elbows
and knees. Put the negative on the right arm, the positive on 
the left arm and both commons on both legs. Got that?##

"Second nature, Coolidge. Same as a small child's."

##Right you are!## Barney said. ##We'll get him squared away yet.
Now, send me a strip. I have a few theories as to what's ailing him
and I need your help to help me rule em out. Oh, and if he loses
that inguinal pulse, have your defibrillator there set to 200 J's at
the initial, then go to 300, then 360 stacked if necessary ok? The
cardiac meds are the same with lidocaine, epi and atropine. Just
use a two year old's dosages in a Ringer's IV.##

"Roy, got that?" Kel barked.

"Already on it." DeSoto replied. He hefted his talkie. "Doc.
Ringer's IV? How much to run in on the onset?"

##Best place for a puncture is the cephalic vein, top of the
foreleg halfway up. 200 mls for starters. I don't know if Henry's
been pulmonarily challenged.##

"His chest is clear." Kel said, listening to the still basset's
sooty ribcage. 

##Fine. Fine. All the better.##Barney dabbled over the radio.
##Now.. what's your strip showing on your people zapper?##

Brackett's eyes rolled up at the reference. But he dutifully applied
globs of conductive gel over Henry's shoulder and haunch and set down
the paddle rims over his body. "I'm reading some wide or tall P-waves; 
wide or increased amplitude QRS complexes and a few short-coupled 
PVC's with frequent ectopics. Hear them?"

The monitor gave a fluting bell every time the comatose basset's heart
skipped a contraction.

##Umm hm. I'm getting the same thing over here. Doctor Brackett, listen close.
I'm trying to narrow down the field of cardiac problem candidates
for Henry by being certain there's no chance of these three possibilities:
an atrial tumor, that's hemangiosarcoma to you Dr. Brackett, an electrolyte 
imbalance, such as hypokalemia from breathing so poorly during the fire, or a 
splenic tumor to get to my original suspicion of arrhythmogenic cardiomyopathy. 
That's fairly common in middle aged males such as Henry.##

"What's that?" Chet said from the ambulance driver peep window.

Coolidge heard. ##It refers to a recurrent or persistent arrhythmia in the setting 
of a normal left ventricular ejection fraction or an irregularity in how Henry's heart 
pumps oxygenated blood out to the rest of his body.##

"Oh, I get it." Marco said as he checked the flow of oxygen to Henry's
ambu tubing from the port in the ambulance's wall.

Cap was hunched as small as he could be at the foot of the cot where
Henry lay. "Want me to take over, Lopez?"

"Sure, my hand's cramping." Marco said.

Cap and he traded places at Henry's head.

Kel and Coolidge were oblivious to anything else around them.

Barney leaned into the radio speaker. ##Doctor, have your paramedic
begin treatment with a bit of nitroglycerin paste under the tongue.
Works wonders without the risks of Lidocaine. Oh, and have him
wear some obstetrical gloves administering it or he'll drop into
a faint when the medication bottoms out his blood pressure.##

"He knows." Kel said grinning.

##Let me know when it's been done. I wanna look at how Henry's EKG
responds.## said Barney the shelter vet.

Everyone held their breaths as Roy shoved in some nitro paste around
a hole in the tape wrapping Henry's muzzle with a cotton swab.

Everybody jumped when the rear doors flew open and Johnny Gage
climbed into an already crowded Mayfair patient's cab. "How's he
doing?"

"Got a pulse."
"Not breathing."
"Ruling out trauma specific cardiac injury." said Roy, Cap and Brackett
respectfully.

"Ok. Gimme.." he said to Cap, taking over Henry's airway care.

Hank sat back down onto his butt, sliding his helmet off onto
his lap and he just watched, biting his lip.

Kel continued his conference with the shelter vet. 
"Want a central line in to get a working blood pressure?"

##Nope. Won't help. There's already been some neurohormonal cytokines 
activation going on because of Henry's myocardial failure and continued
limited cardiac output. The EKG's pointing to that.##

"I concur. Just wanted to see if your angle agrees with mine." Brackett agreed. 
"How about initiating some cardioprotection at this stage of the game while 
we're waiting for that nitro to kick in."

##Sounds good to me. Get him armored while he's still ticking. I recommend
sotalol as a beta blocker to control Henry's tachyarrythmias. 10- 20 mg
by mouth every twelve hours...## said Barney.

"But he's still unresponsive.." Kel reasoned over the radio.

##That's no obstacle...## Coolidge's voice bubbled. ##We'll use procainamide, in
through his IV, in conjunction with that oral. Have someone inject half a mil for now. 
Slowly. Titrate it gradually after the sotalol's fully dissolved orally. We're doing so
non push, because that beta blocker is a negative inotropic. Don't want to
cause Henry to go into sudden death, now do we? He's fought so hard
today to make it to nap time.##

The firemen around Brackett chuckled.

##Don't be shy about giving Henry some taurine, Dr. Brackett. Its lack
can sometimes bring on ACM. Especially in dogs of the couch potato 
variety as these boys say Henry is.## Coolidge chuckled.

"I'm on it." Dr. Brackett grinned, injecting the vitamin into Henry's
I.V. line.

A minute later, all medications were delivered and the alarming
bleeps warning of PVC runs faded away.

"I think it's working, doc." Roy said, eyeing the monitor.
"Henry's beginning to breathe again on his own. Listen."

Brackett did, tapping Henry on the eyelid to see if he blinked.
He did, slightly. And then he yawned, craving more 02 as
his metabolism sped up.  

Johnny removed the rest of the encircling tape and left the oxygen 
tube near Henry's nostrils after he disconnected the ambu bag from it.

"Atta boy. Come back to us." he said, rubbing Henry's coat
and head briskly. His ministrations rewarded him with a moan
of anxiety as Henry muzzily came to. He was aware enough to
make a face at the bad tasting medication in his mouth.

"He's gonna live!!" crowed Chet Kelly. "All right! I'll radio Station
Eight's right now and give em the good news. And I'll tell Stoker 
to move Ivory off your door step, doc." The peek door between 
them snapped shut again.

The rest of the guys and both doctors celebrated. But Barney didn't for long.
He grabbed Brackett's ear once more. ##Now for diagnostics, Dr.
Brackett. We're going to need thoracic radiographs for his workup...##

"Chest Xrays?" Brackett said warily, knowing that no machine existed
inside the Mayfair.

##Umm hmm and a packed cell volume test.##

"A CBC.." Kel said in affirmation, using his human terms.

##Yep..and we'll have to get good serum biochemistries to rule out
congenital heart failure, thromboembolism or hidden complications in 
Henry's other internal organs. Oh, and an echocardiogram. I'll have to get
an accurate fix on measuring Henry's true LV ejection fraction to map
out future impact for a quality of life estimate for your fireboys
after today's little misadventure. Least I can do for such a valiant 
mascot.##

 
"Doctor Coolidge..."

##Oh and we'll need more taurine to add as a nutriceutical into
some new low salt food for him. If he's going to be responding
with his crew on fire calls regularly, he'll have to get in tip top shape
to prevent a repeat of this ACM crisis.##

"Doctor Coolidge!" Brackett stated more loudly.

##Yes, my boy?##  came Barney's reply.

"I'm afraid I'm going to have to draw the line with
emergency treatment only here. My board of directors
will have a hey day if I do anything more. I could be in serious
trouble if any of them finds out I'm even doing what I'm doing 
now."

##Oh, I wasn't meaning for you to run the tests there..## said Coolidge
on the handy talkie. ##You can transport Henry here to me so my staff and 
I can do it. After all, you're already conveniently inside of an ambulance.
That was very clever of your ER nurse to think of doing that ahead of 
time.##

Brackett's ears began to steam.

"Doc, I know you skipped your lunch in order to help us out. " said Hank.
"Tell you what, you've a very large, very loud, fire engine at your disposal 
to scatter any traffic out of your way going to the shelter and back again.
Please stay and help us with Henry until Coolidge takes over. Deal?"

And he held out a sooty, grimy hand.

Brackett just stared at it, feeling very outmaneuvered and outnumbered.

'I'm coming along, too." said Dixie from the peek window. 
"I'm the designated driver of this outfit.." she said, wearing street clothes.
"Hang on." and she flipped on the Mayfair's reds.

"Oh, no you're not." Kel boomed, immediately apologizing to the dog
when Henry sat up in surprise. Henry bolted for Roy's arms while
the others struggled to keep him from tangling his I.V.

"Oh, yes I can. My shift ended for the day five minutes ago." Dixie
McCall stuck her tongue out at her now powerless superior. "So sit down,
buckle in and play doctor quietly, Kel.  The sooner we leave, the sooner
we'll get back."

"You aren't authorized to drive a Mayfair!"

"Wanna bet? You authorized me as a field training nurse. The state says
I can. Hang on.."

And they were off under the vanguard of the white engine. Stoker belligerently 
rendered the street clear before them with a healthy chorus of horn blasts and 
sirens.
 
**************************************************************************
From:  "Roxy Dee" <laterrapincabesa@hotmail.com> 
Date:  Wed Sep 1, 2004  3:46 pm 
Subject:  The Shriek Box~~

Johnny Gage came whistling into the kitchen area and
helped himself to a hefty portion of Dale's Everything deep 
dish pizza which was Cap's meal offering for his turn at KP 
food detail.  "Must be Thursday afternoon." he said to no
one in particular, "I can set my watch by when the delivery
guy come with these."

"Speak for yourself." Roy said, overhearing from his checkers
match with Marco Lopez by the television table. "I'm getting
so good at guessing time of day by activity that I can guess
the actual minute by that pizza's physical temperature.." he 
bemoaned. "It's exactly 2:15 in the afternoon." he sniffed.

Gage huffed in amusement around a food stuffed cheek.
"Huh, don't blame me for the slow week we've had. Blame
dispatch and headquarters. They're so worried that we'll scuff
up the crown jewel of the fire department that all we've been given
is medical calls."

"I wouldn't say Ivory is the crown jewel of the department." said
Stoker from where he was doing the dishes. "She's more like..
a backup while we're waiting for Ol Red to finish up in the repair shop."

"Believe what you like. I'm just hoping you guys aren't bored and all
with being support O2 and bandaid backups for Roy and I when we
do get out of the station.." he emphasized.

"Thing's balance out, Gage. Give it time. It always does. " Hank
said from where he was working on a miniature ship in a bottle
model he was working on. "I don't know about you. But I'm enjoying
the light week of duty. I haven't seen a stretch like this since Woodstock
weekend."

The guys laughed.

"Well, at least we're getting in some good hobby time." Johnny decided.
Then Gage suffered a bout of deja vu when he spied Chet 
Kelly bent with industry over the same pile of gadetry and wiring 
that he had been working upon on the day that Ivory the white engine 
had arrived.

Being sly, he walked slowly and silent past Kelly so he could
get a good eyeful without being caught prying his nose into
Chet's self professed secret invention again.  Johnny spied
a new device that looked for all the world like a mini handy talkie
with a large red light attached to its face and a very long
radio antennae, longer than what the Battalion Chiefs used on
their high powered HTs at a fire scene.

Barely reining in an unbearable curiosity, Gage sidled away
from the table to sit by Henry on the couch to check his remote
EKG monitor on the harness he was wearing around his torso.
The holster was about to send a cardiac reading to Doc Coolidge
at the animal shelter. 

Roy noticed and excused himself from
his game. "I'll be right back, Marco. This'll only take a sec."

"Fine by me. I thought it was time for Henry's betablocker pill."

"Nah, that's at three. Forty five minutes from now." DeSoto
clarified.

"Glad you're keeping Henry's rehab schedule straightened out
in your head. I'm totally confused on what he needs and when still."
Lopez complained with a smile.

"It's a paramedic thing, Marco. " said Johnny from
where he was connecting Henry's canine EKG module to
the new phone they had rigged on the magazine table by
the brown leather couch. "To keep track of treatments and 
med deliveries. It kinda becomes second nature after a while. 
Though I'll admit, having Henry as a patient for this long's novel."
he admitted.

Henry looked up and whuffled in excitement as he saw the two
men moving to fuss over him again and he rolled over for a belly
rub, making it hard for Roy to connect the phoneline feed to the
transmitter.

"Hey you crazy hound.." Gage said, scrubbing Henry's ears.
"Back onto your belly. Roy's trying to get you set here."

Chet fixed the problem by tossing Gage Henry's favorite huge
rawhide bone without looking up from his busy project building.
He announced its airborne trajectory with a whistle.

Gage barely caught the bone with which to lure Henry's attention.

"Thanks." Roy said when Johnny only glared back at Chet for
the stunt.

The gray phone next to the couch rang. It was Barney, the shelter vet.
DeSoto picked it up and set it onto the table while he
plugged in the EKG wire from the readout into the module
wired to the send only phone. 

A few minutes later, the transmission of Henry's nightly cardiac record
completed and Roy hung up the phone receiver again. "Hope the
doc's happy with Henry's progress. I know I am. He's had no PVCs in four 
days now. I think he was right with that diagnosis of arrhythmogenic 
cardiomyopathy on him. His heart's no longer acting like an M.I.'s."

Gage disconnected the holster wire from the phone and wrapped it up
again into its bundle compartment on the side of Henry's EKG monitor
harness. "He's eating fine, drinking even better. Heck he even went
after a few of Stoker's ball tosses in the yard this morning, without getting
out of breath even once." he said, playing tug of war with Henry and the bone.

Cap smiled from where he worked. "Of course he is. He's in the best
paramedic firehouse in the whole county. I wouldn't expect any results
less than perfect from my men on a medical patient that stable."
he joked.

That brought up a question from Chet. "Hey Cap, are we getting billed
at the station for Henry's Mayfair ride to the Animal Shelter last week?"

"Nope. Doc Coolidge found some dog loving sponsors at a local
school to cover our costs. All it'll take is letting those kids visit Henry
once he's back on a clean bill of health to get the money." Hank
mentioned.

"Nice. How'd they hear about Henry getting sick?" Marco asked.

"One of the nurses walking by the ambulance that day saw us working
on resuscitating him out in Rampart's driveway, took up the cause
on her own through friends and relatives. And I believe that new medical
resident you guys tangled with the day that old woman was burned was
very instrumental in bailing our butts out of Henry's treatment bills, too."

"He was?" Gage said, surprised. "That's incredible."

"Yeah, Dixie McCall said that he felt guilty for being so new to
answering calls at the base station that he wanted to make it up to us
somehow for making us work her airway needs around him without an order." 
Captain Stanley related. "Miss McCall called and told me the whole story 
last night after we got back from that seizure call."

"And Brackett ok'd that?" Gage said, incredulously.

"Why not?" Roy smiled hugely. "Maybe that resident's on probation for
endangering his patient and finding funds for Henry could've been
Brackett's version of assigned community service as his unofficial 
penalty."

"Yeah? Well what about the official one?" Gage complained, remembering
the risk he took that day acting as a paramedic first with Brice without
a doctor.

"You know medical residents have immunity against incriminations
for their first six months working solo. That old woman suffered no
lasting ill effects." Roy reminded his partner.

"For that time, maybe." Gage interjected. "But what about the next time we
get him on the biophone line?"

Roy shrugged. "We'll just have to repeat our findings. Twice if we have to,
and...help him out. I've already talked to Brackett about having a senior
physician standing by next to him when he does take another of
our medical calls. So you can say that yes, I thought of you at the last
paramedic's meeting, you know, the one you missed for having to 
stay here with Henry on his first night back from the animal shelter."

"Thanks." Gage said appreciatively. "Brice'll sure be a lot happier
with that arrangement."

Right then the kitchen side door rang.  Chet Kelly left his work table
to go answer it.

Dixie McCall came into the station. She was dressed in earthtones
and her hair was down.

All the gang rose to their feet.

"Hi Dixie.." Roy said. "What brings you out here?"

"Oh, I wanted to see my favorite mascot.. that's why.." she crooned,
sitting down next to Henry and smooching his ecstatic freckled face
deeply. "How are ya doing, baby?" she asked, holding his head.

Henry's tail thumped loudly on the couch cushions as he ate
up the attention.

Then Dixie looked up at Roy and Johnny. "Got copies of Henry's
latest EKG strips handy? Dr. Brackett admitted to me last week that
he wanted to see how he's coping on Coolidge's rehabilitation plan."

"No kidding.." Hank said. "The way he grumbled last week, I didn't
think Dr. Brackett cared a bit about him."

"Stand corrected, Captain Stanley. " Dixie demurred. "Kel's just a big softy 
at heart once he's been proven wrong about a patient. Even if that patient's
cute, fuzzy and has big long floppy ears.." she said, smooching Henry's
silky head loudly where it nestled on her lap in between her arms. "Oh, 
he's looking a lot better today." she crooned. She leaned over to look
at the table side of the couch. "And you boys have stopped hoarding the 
spare defibrillator down here. Guess his cardiac readings are checking out?"
she guessed.

"They sure are." Roy said. "We just sent today's reading in a few minutes
ago."

"Well, I've got to go get to work. I only had a few minutes to spare."

"Here." Johnny said, scooping up the paper bag with Henry's old
EKG strips in it. "Give these to Kel when you see him. We'll pick
them back up again next rescue call."

"I'll do that. Thanks, fellas." Dixie said, leaving back out the side
door and waving.

"Wow, Dixie came all the way out here from her apartment to
see Ol Henry?" Gage said.

Chet quipped. "Yeah. Unlike some people I know, Henry's a real 
popular guy for a dog."

"Very funny. "Johnny said, squinting his eyes at Kelly.

--------------------------------------------------------------------------

Captains Gage, DeSoto and Stanley laughed long and
loud after their sharing of Henry's emergency medical call
story.

"I don't know what got Brackett's goat more, William the
African Pygmy kid with the patent ductus or Henry's heart attack."
Gage giggled, playing with his white hat resting on the table.

"Is that a pun?" Stanley smiled. "Gee, a bonafide witticism.
And I can't believe my ears that it actually came from  
Johnny Gage." he said, pulling off his glasses. He began
to chew on the end of them thoughtfully.

Gage sputtered. "Well, I..." he said, confused, not getting it.

Roy rescued him.
"He ages well, Cap. I really know. I've been spending all
morning getting my feelers out on what his current personality 
changes are like. They're all good ones. He's almost mellow
now."

"Cool." Hank said, "Uh, I mean... cold? Do your mugs need
a warm up shot?" he said holding up the coffee pot as he covered
quickly.

Johnny and Roy both lifted their cups. Gage was neatly fooled.

Hank finally turned off the burners on the stove, placed both bread
and soup into the warming oven, and sat down into a kitchen chair
in reverse Gage style. "Yeah.. we've been through a lot, haven't we?"

"Through good times..." Roy reminded him.

"And bad.." Gage said, sipping his coffee.

Captain Stanley sighed. "Was I really helpful? I mean.. did I really 
inspire you guys to follow in my tracks like this?" he said, picking
up Gage's captain's hat to smooth out a few wrinkles. He began 
polishing the gold emblem on its front with the corner of his apron.

"Yeah. You really did." smiled Roy. "And I still remember the first
time I realized what a great friend you were to me. It was the 
time I had my nervous breakdown.." he said, his voice growing soft
as his expression grew thoughtful.
 
*********************************************
From :  "Fran Catrair" <taleaone@hotmail.com>  
Subject : [EmergencyTheaterLive] Mudslide  
Date : Thu, 19 Dec 2002 02:06:39 -0600  

(From Episode Three- Juxtaposition..)
 
Johnny wordlessly looked out the window 
at the rain coming down around him.  He 
glanced at his partner's grim expression 
and sighed quietly, looking back out the 
window.  He was trying to think what Roy 
might be thinking.  ::Kids okay...fight with 
Joanne?:: he wondered.  Well, nothing 
he could do about it until after the call.

The squad's sirens continued to wail and 
Roy's face was almost unreadable. Until 
Cap's voice came out over the Station 
frequency. ##L.A., This is Engine 51. Is it 
known how many casualties might be 
involved?"##

"Roy, what's the matter?" 

"Hmm?" Roy replied, still listening to the 
exchange between dispatch and their 
captain going over their radio.

The rain came down harder, making 
the road flood. Roy was forced to slow 
down and so did the engine behind them.

"What is it, Roy?" Johnny asked, more 
firmly this time.  

Roy sighed and voiced 
his long held thoughts.  "I've been 
having a feeling something bad was 
going to happen today.  Just a feeling.  
My son was going to the Musuem 
of Natural History for a field trip today.  
They were to leave immediately this 
morning." Roy finished, his voice 
shaky and tapering slightly.

Johnny was stunned by the news.  "Maybe 
it's not their bus, Roy.  I mean, how 
many schools must be having field trips 
today?", he said, trying to take his 
partner's mind off the worst.

"It's them," Roy said, quietly.  
"It's them."

Sam's voice came over the radio.  
#Engine 51...casualties unknown at 
this time.  CHP is on the scene.#

Caps' voice came very fast. ##10-4, 
L.A. Our ETA is..... four minutes..##

Roy skidded a little too fast around a 
turn and the squad shimmied around 
a corner and almost fishtailed before 
he regained control.

John said. "Want me to drive? We 
can radio in to the Engine.. Tell em 
why.."

Roy looked firmly at John and shook 
his head vehemently.  His face screwed 
up in concentration, as he willed the 
squad to go on.  At last, they could 
see the scene in the distance.

The yellow Blue Bird cab was fully on 
its side and along the margin. The front 
end was buried deeply in slag from 
the rain soaked hillside. 

"Mudslide!!" Johnny said. "Roy.. can 
you tell. Is it the same bus?"

"I don't know. I don't know...." Roy 
said.

Cap's voice filtered firmly into them as 
they pulled just behind the rear of the 
bus, pulling up so the squad was acting as 
a buffering obstacle between the bus
and oncoming traffic.

##Squad 51. Stay right where you are. 
And enter the scene from there. Stoker 
pull ahead to the car and those power 
lines. Looks like they're down. L.A. Cut 
power to the north side of the freeway 
overpass at mile marker seventy four!##

A fierce bolt of lightning shot down from
the dim sky and the rain came down in torrents
as Johnny and Roy ran out of the squad's 
cab for their gear and extrication equipment.

They ran for the nearest thing they could see,
the back of the bus and the emergency exit
there. 

##10-4, 51.##, dispatch responded.

Johnny and Roy could see the bus was 
rocking slightly.  They knew with the rain 
coming down and the mud, the bus could 
be buried deeper, and rapidly.  They 
needed to act fast.

"Cap, we're gonna need the K-12.. 
Looks like the rear hatch is jammed in 
here real good!" Roy said. He desperately 
tried to wipe away the mud and steam 
on the windows, but he could see 
nothing of the interior. 

Johnny began shouting. "Can anybody 
hear me?! Fire department!!"

Weak high pitched screams met their ears 
and a bloody palm impacted the window 
right by Johnny's face.. ::Oh my G*d.::

Right next to him, Roy flinched.

Roy was trying to clear away the debris from 
the hatch to place the K-12 when he saw it.  
Number 62.  He looked at Johnny.  
"Number 62.  It's his bus." he said.

Finally, Chet and Marco arrived with the 
K-12.  They observed the tenseness of both 
paramedics.

"What's going on?" Chet demanded.

"Ohmyg*d, Johnny..".. Roy gasped. 
"I can't do this.." and he nearly fell to
his knees.

Gage got on his HT. ##Cap! Stoker. 
On the double! We need man 
power now. Roy's kid is here!##

Chet opened his mouth and closed it, 
shocked.  He and Marco quickly took 
the K-12 to the rear hatch.  Both men 
had a look of determination on their 
faces.  This rescue had become personal.

Captain Stanley ran, slipped and skidded
in the mud until he grabbed the side of
the bus to steady himself. "Gage, take over 
primary care triage. Roy, stay out here. And
that's an order!"

Right then, the roar of water from a storm 
drain caved in a part of the road underneath 
the toppled bus and its side split open like 
a tin can, spilling a tiny body in a girl's skirt,
onto the road and into the drain in a rush.....

Gage made a leap for the tiny feet but 
wasn't fast enough. Cap grabbed him first and 
said, "No!! Get a life line first! Now.. 
We don't know how deep it is in there!"

DeSoto ran for the squad to get one.

Roy sprinted to the right compartment, 
slipping and trying desperately to stay 
on his feet. Then he slid back to the back 
of the bus, wordlessly thrusting the lifelines at
Cap and Johnny and tying one onto himself.

"Oh no! No!"  Roy said, when the feet 
slipped again just as he grabbed for them. 
The tiny body disappeared in a rage of 
flooding brown water and was gone.

Johnny grabbed Roy's lifeline and secured it, 
proceeding back to the bus area.  "Roy,
there's nothing we can do! Get up! She's
dead.."
 
**********************************
From:  Katherine Bird <kathbird01@yahoo.co.uk> 
Date:  Wed Jan 15, 2003  12:10 am
Subject:  The Shell..

It was morning, and the day after the school
bus rescue. A-shift slowly made their way into
the kitchen for coffee after changing into their
work clothes.

Cap was the first one to the steaming coffee pot.
In his hands were the run sheet forms for the
bus's incident.  He placed them fanned out in
the middle of the table top and placed the pot
in their center so anyone reaching for it would
have to see the forms before getting a cup filled.

Then he retreated to his recliner and the 
morning newspaper folded neatly there by C shift.

He intentionally didn't read the headlines which 
covered the bus crash and the journalist sensationalism
about how many had died in the slide, moving on 
instead, to the sports pages.

-------------------------------------------

Johnny Gage rubbed feigned sleepy eyes and 
darted through the kitchen door, jostling with
Chet in a vie for the coffee pot. Both firemen
grabbed its black handle and Cap said,
"When the fur stops flying over there, eyeball
the papers you're not going to spill that coffee
on.. Take a set and fill them out before lunchtime."

Johnny and Chet's amicable mood evaporated
when they realized it was the bus run's mortality 
forms. Gage sighed glumly, "Right Cap, uh, we'll get
right on these.. uh, do the investigators want to know
complete details?"

"As best you can, Gage. And I know recalling back
to yesterday isn't going to be pleasant. Just stick
to positional details and what ya found."

Chet sat on the kitchen table and took a sip
of his coffee, still lost in the sobering feel in the room,
and poured Johnny's cup full after his own.
"What's the point of an investigation, Cap? I
mean, the guy who hit the bus was DOA."

Cap looked up uncomfortably."Its a suit against
the city in an action concerning the mudslide..
Negligience on the part of the highway department
for not shoring up that canyon wall to withstand
flooding."

"That craziness, Cap. Most of those..kids wer-" and 
Johnny's voice broke as a memory of the little girl 
who was swept away down the storm drain filtered 
into his mind. Gage fought the emotion out of his 
voice and continued.. "...most of those poor kids 
were gone even before the slide happened." Gage 
insisted. "Besides, that rainfall was abnormally high. 
Most inches an hour since the 1920's the Chief said.
There's no cause for such a class action."

"I know that." Cap said. "But these kids's parents
are grieving and you know how that goes. Any
outlet's a channel for them."

Roy had entered the kitchen quietly, and he
refused the third coffee mug Johnny offered him.
"No thanks. " he said, sitting on the table next
to Johnny. "Are we going to have to testify about 
those fatalities, Cap?"

Hank shrugged diffidently in the negative, "The 
Chief, this morning,  just asked about our run 
sheets so far. No hearings in sight for any of us yet. 
I'll,...I'll..let you know as soon as I can about that.."

"Thanks.." Roy said softly.

Marco piped up. "Hey Roy, how's your boy? Is he
ok? I didn't get to hear how he was doing after
I left yesterday. Dixie refused to fill me in when she
wheeled me out the back door."

Roy smiled a half hearted smile. "That's probably
because she figured you already had a full plate
concerning your own recovery. She most
likely, didn't want ya to worry about anything else, 
Lopez."

"Since when does asking about something like that 
constitute being a burden?" Marco complained.

Johnny grinned. "Dix was only looking out
for your best interests. Besides, I'll bet she
called ya a few hours after you got home
with the good news, didn't she?"

"Yeah." Marco said. "She did.. But mama said
I was sleeping.."

"Dix did her job then." he grinned. "She made
sure she got the news ya wanted." he 
concluded.

"Not soon enough.." Marco scoffed.

Roy thought about that remark thoughtfully
and mumbled to himself. "It's never soon
enough.." But no one else heard him.

Stoker pulled out a chair for Roy. "So,.."
he said grandly.. "..don't keep us in suspense. 
Tell us how he is.."

The squeal of the chair's legs on the tile floor
broke Roy out of his reverie and he blinked a
few times. But his face stayed flat and almost
emotionless.
"Chris's gonna be fine. He came outta surgery
with flying colors. His leg's gonna heal cleanly,
and he's handling his best friend Carrie's death as
well as can be expected..." he paused when 
the gang grew reflective for his benefit. "Joanne
and I are just glad it's all over with.." Roy 
said, trying to grin, without confidence.
"Chris goes home Friday once the drainage
shunts are removed."

Cap noticed Roy's lack luster mannerisms.
"You ok there, Roy?" he said, setting his
paper down.

"Yeah, Cap.. I- I'm fine.. Just tired I guess."
DeSoto replied.

Captain Stanley's gaze bore right into Roy's
until Roy thought he was going to start fidgetting
under their scrutiny. But finally, Hank sighed.
"Ok, you know the support panel's there if you want
to go talk to anyone sooner. I've got us all scheduled 
with the counselors for disaster debriefing this 
afternoon. The usual routine."

The rest of the gang cleared their throats and
mumured uncomfortably. They all knew they
needed to talk about the run as soon as they
could, before its impact could effect any of
them even more.

"Ok, Cap.." Then Roy noticed the last remaining
Code F report form resting on the table. "Oh. I forgot.
I'll get right on this.." he promised.

"Take your time.. These aren't due at 
Headquarters until six.." Hank said.

The kitchen fell into quiet as each of the gang
filled out the grim details of facts and the actions
they each had taken during the bus accident. 

The tension was so thick, Henry started to whine 
at their concentrated silence.


Marco and Chet got up immediately and took their
forms and donuts to the couch. Lopez took Henry
into his lap and fed him a treat. Stoker faked
stretched, without comment, studying his shoes.

"Can't hide anything from Henry, can we?"
Johnny said to no one in particular.

"Nope. He's a hot dog who's a blood hound. 
What can we hide from a nose that big?"

And everyone laughed. Everyone except Roy.


"Say, Gage.."
Kelly smacked Gage on the shoulder to
get his attention from where he was 
carefully writing on his incident form.

"Oww, Kelly now cut that out. Now I'm going
to have to start filling this out all over again."
Johnny groused. Then he rubbed his arm.
"That's a sore spot from yesterday."

"Sorry Gage.  But listen.. I almost brought this
up to DeSoto but he was too busy being a fidgetty
father yesterday to pay me any attention."

"Gee. I wonder why? Kelly, just get to the point." 
Johnny said impatiently.

"Yeah, Chet. Get to the meat of it already." 
Marco said from his kitchen seat.

Kelly glanced up and suddenly noticed that everyone,
including Cap, was paying close attention to
him.  He immediately got embarrassed.
"Now, listen fellas. I just wanted to bring up
a conversation with Johnny that was kinda private
here, you know what I mean?"

Cap's eyebrows rose. "Fraid we don't. In it
for an inch, in it for a mile, we figure. Right gang?
Anything you need to say about work, we're
entitled to know about, because we're just one big, 
close knit, happy outfit here, Kelly."

Gage and the others all agreed with animated
nods and gestures.

"Speak for yourself, Cap! uh, I mean sir.."
Kelly amended.  He whined. "Oh, come on guys.
For me..?" He sighed when no one looked away. 
"Ok, ok. I see I have no choice in the matter 
while I get an answer for myself. I see. 
Ok,.. all right. I'll just come right out and say it then..  
Johnny, do you think I got the right stuff to make 
the coursework to become a paramedic?"

Johnny had been mentally smiling as vultures
zoomed in on the summer of Chet's malcontent,
but now, Gage nearly spit out the mouthful of 
coffee he had been swallowing. "What?! "

Babble followed instantly.
    "A medic, Chet?" Stoker parroted.
"That's great, Chet.." Lopez said warmly.
    Cap's face animated in surprise. "Wow, that's
news there, Kelly. What made you suddenly
decide this?"
    Roy even perked up a little."Really?"

Chet tried to quell them all with shushes and 
self conscious hand waves. "Gimme a sec, gimme 
a second here. Let Johnny answer my question 
first, eh, guys? All right..? Then I'll let you have
at it.."

Everyone obeyed instantly, all ears and expectant,
as they all looked at Johnny. 

Including Henry.

Gage cleared his throat uncomfortably inside the
circle of faces surrounding his. "Uh, well.. Chet. 
You see, uh.. Wow, Gee. I don't know where to 
begin.." He started over on a different track. 
"You seem like a pretty good firefighter and I like 
working with ya and all. But quite frankly, I haven't 
actually, ever considered this idea before, you know.
I think you'd--" 

The alarm tones went off.

========================
##Station 51. Possible drowning. L.A. Riverbed.
One half mile north of Vadnais Heights Boulevard.
One half mile north of Vadnais Heights Boulevard.
Time out, 8: 02.##
========================

In the garage, Cap thumbed the response mike 
and replied. "This is station 51, 10-4. KMG 365."

And he threw on his turnout coat and beat 
a hasty pace to the LaFrance.

------------------------------------------------

On scene, a lone hiker, muddied despite the clear
day, met them on the roadside margin. He seemed
highly agitated. "Glad you got here so fast. Hurry.
I couldn't get down there any closer. Uh, man.."
he gasped.

"What do you got?"Cap fired at him as he stepped
out of the truck's cab.

"Well, I couldn't believe what I was looking at.
I couldn't believe my eyes at first." he panted.
"I just couldn't believe it was really a--"
The biker suddenly turned green and Johnny and
Roy had to catch him when he stopped
speaking and when his knees started to buckle. 

"Whoa, whoa.. now take it easy. Hey. You feeling 
all right?" Johnny said. "Here, set him over against 
the squad." He and Roy and Cap managed to get 
the man sitting on the wet ground. Stoker went 
for the O2.

Gage said to Cap. "I got him. Looks like it's 
a syncopal episode. His pulse's normal."

"Cap, I'll go looking around. Maybe I can find out 
something.." Roy said, readjusting his helmet.

"You do that. Marco, Chet, go with him." Cap said.
He pulled out his walkie talkie. "L.A. This is Engine
51. Send an ambulance to our location. We've a 
man down."

##10-4, 51. Time out 8:14.##

Marco, Chet and Roy headed into the brush 
rimming the man made channel of the L.A. river.

The bed was partially filled with a fast flow,
and it was clogged with many many downed
trees and debris from the flooding of the day
before. 

Then they spotted an orange hiker's pack
and mountain bike and an abandoned CB radio
lying on the ground. 

"This is where he must have made our
rescue call..." Roy said.  "Let's assume
he spotted something straight down from
here."   And he waved Chet and Marco
along with him down the next decline.

They skidded over the slope of
the final levee to the top of the drop off leading
into the concrete river system and crawled 
on their bellies until they were able to see 
beyond down into the waterway.

Marco gasped.

A horribly mangled little girl lay twisted in
the bows of a flooded eucalyptus tree with
skin so dusky, that there was no doubt 
that the life signs in her had fled long ago.
One arm was broken hideously over her head
and the crushed torso was wearing a 
very familar set of school colors. 

"Oh, my g*d. It's her.." Kelly heard from
Roy. 

"What?" Chet asked. "This is who, Roy?"
he asked through a scrub bush, separating
them.

But Roy just stood there, dropping his
walkie talkie from limp fingers.

Chet and Marco didn't see him falter,
still being partially hidden in the 
overgrown field.

"Come on, Marco. Let's get closer.."
Kelly said, moments later.

Through the brush, Chet called out
again as Marco and he struggled to get
nearer the area where they saw the little
girl's remains."Roy.. we need to know 
what you know." Kelly said over the 
roar of water. "There are parents 
somewhere out there looking for this little 
girl. If you know something we don't, y--"

They heard DeSoto sob a heart rending 
incomprehensible outburst, quickly 
followed by sudden violent retching.  Kelly 
and Lopez heard the thud of something with 
weight, fall onto the dry reeds above the river, 
seconds later.

Kelly and Lopez turned from the water,
not understanding for a moment. They both 
were shocked when they jogged back the way
they had come to see Roy curled up into a ball on 
the ground. He was on his side, getting sick and
trying to hide the fact that his stomach
battle had been lost in what seemed to Chet, 
a pitiful way.

"Roy, pull yourself together man. It's ok.
We'll just get her in a few when you're better
and we'll just get the h*ll out of here.."
Kelly said. 

Lopez said. "I don't think this is just a grossing
out, Chet. I mean, this is ROY. He never lets things
like this bother him. Something's really not right 
here."

"You deal with it. I gotta let Cap know what's going on."
Chet said defensively. His face was a mixture of 
worry, disgust and frustration. Kelly went to find 
some high ground to report to the engine crew.

Marco went to Roy's side and pulled him away
from the soiling ground.  He helped Roy kneel upright
and Lopez held him while he continued to empty
his stomach. His heaves were so violent, that
his chin strap loosened and DeSoto's helmet 
flopped forward over his eyes. 

Marco took off Roy's helmet and threw
it some distance up the hill in frustration and anger
over the second unexpected horror delivered
to them yet again in as many days.
He waited until Roy was through gagging, then
he said. "Come on, Roy. Let's move away. We're
too near the edge."



Kelly pulled out his HT. "Cap. We've got a Code F.
It's a  ...  it's a ...kid from the bus rescue. Roy 
recognized her right away."

##Would you 10-9 that, Kelly? A Code F from
yesterday?## Cap queried.

"That's affirmative, Cap. And she's retrievable."

There was a long silence. ##All right. Listen.
This is first. Our hiker informant's a diabetic and 
the stress of his calling us out here has set off a 
metabolic crisis. Have Roy come up here.##

"Ah, Cap. That won't be possible."

##Kelly? What's the hold up?##

"Just get down here, Cap. On the double." 
Kelly said and he flicked the walkie talkie's 
speaker off, his face fighting powerful emotions.

-------------

Marco had gotten Roy's collar loose. 
He saw that DeSoto was no longer getting ill
in the place Marco had guided him to away
from the river's wall. But things were far from
improving. Roy lay, pale and in denial, on 
his side, sobbing uncontrollably.

Lopez patted his shattered coworker on the shoulder. 
"It's ok. Just take it easy.We'll take it from 
here. Your nausea passing?"  

He got only a moaning half cry for a reply.

Lopez moved Roy's head to his knees to keep 
the sharp grassy brambles from cutting his face. 
"I know it. Just let it pass. You don't have to do 
anything right now."

Cap and Stoker came skidding through the 
undergrowth fully loaded with ropes, a metal 
grappling hook, and a small folded body bag 
between them. 

They halted in shock at the sight of Roy, curled 
fetal, going to pieces.

Kelly and Marco didn't have to explain anything
to them at all when Hank saw the little girl they
had seen. His own face twisted in pain.  

Cap crouched by Roy and added his own 
comforting hand to DeSoto's shoulder. "Easy, pal.
You don't have to do this at all. We'll handle it.
Marco, stay with him for a moment. "
And he rose back onto his feet. 
Cap swallowed. He motioned to Mike.
"Stoker, get her down from there."  
His eyes never left the dead child's 
place in the partially submerged tree. "We're not 
losing her again." and he handed off all his gear 
to the engineer. "Kelly, go back up the hill and 
help Johnny any way you can. You're taking 
over for Roy."

"R- Right.." and Chet bounded up the hill.  "Roy, you
get yourself together, ok.. You hear me.." he said as he 
disappeared. Chet stumbled once but then got to the 
highway a few seconds later.

After a notification to L.A. for a morgue team and the
D.A.'s office, Cap shooed Marco off to help Stoker 
recover the tiny pitiful body.

Hank closed his eyes and made sure Roy didn't see 
their awkward retrieval using the hook either, by 
screening out DeSoto's sight of it with his captain's 
helmet.

It could have been ten minutes or ten years later
to Stanley when it was finally done.

The morning sun was a little bit higher in the brilliant 
sky, a few minutes later. Hank began to speak 
quietly to his heart wounded friend, sharing a like 
story of when his own shell had finally cracked 
under strain in honor of a dead child's memory. 
It did little to lessen Roy's grief. He still shook, 
gasping like a fish, no longer able to voice sounds.
  
Cap sighed compassionately and softly, he whispered. 
"Roy. We're all here for ya. It's ok. Just let it out." 
and he drew his senior crewman up into a hug.

Stanley let him cry for a long time. 

Privately, Cap let down a shadow of his past grief.
He allowed tears of his own to fill his chocolate eyes. 
Silently, unchecked, they fell onto his jacket, rolled off its 
hem, and into the L.A. river below.

----------------------------------------------
Gage looked up impatiently as Chet knelt
where the hiker now lay. He was irritatedly
biting the IV Dex bag covering off on the
solution he had been ordered to give the 
downed hiker. "Here. Get this set up."
he said thrusting the IV into Chet's hands.
"Where'd you all go to? Took forever getting 
him to settle down. Fortunately, he's deep 
into diabetic crisis now and no longer seizing."

Kelly was quiet.

Johnny didn't even think to guess the reason why. He
asked. "Where's Roy? We gotta get this man
NPA intubated yesterday."And he began to take 
another hasty BP on their victim.

"He's not coming." Chet said, stringing the IV tubing
and stabbing its port valve lance into the bag he
had set between his knees.

"What do ya mean he's not coming?" Gage snapped.
"We've got a major medical here. He oughta know
any body we find's last priority." Johnny said, pulling
the stethoscope out of his ears.

Chet held Johnny's hand that was holding the IV 
needle still for a moment, to get his full attention.
"Johnny, Roy cracked. Cap's down there now
deciding whether or not to stretcher him outta
there."

"What?! Chet, you must be talking crazy..."

"Wish I was, Johnny boy. I hope to g*d I was.
Anything,.. but the bad scene I just witnessed 
down there."

Gage fought mentally with himself, warring over
his care of the hiker and his own desire to whip
out his HT to demand of Cap how Roy was doing.
He attempted to console himself with trying to peer 
over the side of the steep grassy embankment. 
The next words out of his mouth were barely 
audible..  "Is he awake?"

"What, ....this guy?" Chet asked, looking down,
beginning to do a pain stimulus check.

Gage gripped his hand and stopped him.
"No, I'm talking about Roy.."

"Oh. Yeah, he is. But he lost his breakfast,.. and 
maybe last night's dinner, too. Johnny, he's 
not even standing."

"Gonna get shocky." Gage mumbled to himself,
suddenly redirected.

"Roy?"

"No, our victim here. Chet, pay attention."
Gage said angrily. "This next step's gonna be 
tricky. Now lube this NPA down with the K-Jelly. 
I've already measured this to be the right size 
airway. And get that positive pressure handy.
His lack of glucose is gonna knock out his
respirations something fierce."

"Gage I don't know about this.." Chet said.
"Maybe you'd better call in another sq-"

Johnny grabbed Chet by his jacket lapels
and snatched him close until he was only
inches away from his face.
"You wanted to know if I thought you were
medic material? Medic trainees follow orders
INSTANTLY from their senior trainers and they
never EVER second guess a medical order.
I ordered you to prepare that NPA tube.
Even told you how to do it. So do it! Now!" 
and he let his overcoat go.

"Geez, all right already. I'm just as worried
about Roy as you are. No need to beat me up
over it.  You'll have ta tell me more on what to do
here though. Been rocky ever since I've been 
ordered to take over to help ya in Roy's 
place."

Gage glared at him and arrowed his spent IV
needle into free flight, not caring that the 
bloody thing whistled by only a centimeter 
from Chet's ear as it clattered home into 
the drug box's waste needle catch bin.
"You've got thirty seconds.. I'm not repeating 
myself."

"Ah,, Ok..  ok.. which side..?" Chet said,
positioning the end of the soft nasopharyngeal
airway near the hiker's nasal passages.

"Try the right side nare first. Don't force it."

Chet nimbly got it into place, doing all the right
moves and techniques, sending the airway down
flat, along the palate as it should have been done.

Johnny smiled, handing Chet the positive pressure
mask. "See, you HAVE been watching us.
You'll still have to keep his head back for a clear
airway and be prepared to yank it out if he vomits."

"That much I remember Gage. What now?"
Chet said. "He's breathing fine." he said, letting
the man pull his own oxygen off the mask.

"What's his rate?" Gage said, adjusting the D5W
flow into the man's veins.

"Ten, and slowing."

"You know to ventilate him if he slips
below eight a minute?"

"Yeah."

"What's his color?" he said, drawing a blood
vial for a glucose check, for Rampart.

Chet peeled away the man's oddly sunburned lips
until he saw his gums. "Pink. Look Johnny.
I could go back down there now and see how Roy's
doing for ya you know. You are in charge of me
up here.."

It was tempting but Johnny knew his responsibilities.
"Nice try. But we're gonna have to trust the
other guys' judgement on that. Roy's probably just
reacting now because he didn't react yesterday.
It's most likely no big deal."

"You didn't see him, Gage.." Chet said in the tiniest
of voices. It was full of fear.

Johnny looked up, his attention full and frightened.

------------------------------------------------------
Cap heard a voice call out. It was Stoker's.
"Ready to move, Cap." 

It must have been some minutes later, for when
Hank blinked, he saw the black body bag nestled
in a scoop stokes that Marco had retrieved from 
the engine. The bundle was already tied and rope 
tethered for a hill climb back up to the roadway. 

Roy, was now some feet away, dry eyed, 
sitting and hugging his knees to his chest, 
with his back to the body, staring out at the 
brightly sunlit flowing river bed below.

"Stoker, you and Lopez go on ahead. Have Johnny 
go on alone in the ambulance with the hiker if you 
have to and tell Chet to take in the squad. Roy's 
coming with us." Hank told Mike. "But, you're giving
us two, a minute or so alone. Get me only if Johnny 
needs another rescue squad to finish the transport, 
and when you're done picking up after yourselves.
Tell the detectives whatever they need to know. 
I'm out of service for a bit. Understood?"

"Right, Cap." and the dry crackle of the grass
told Stanley that the grisly trip up had begun. 
Soon, even that soft rustling faded away.

The ambulance came, then went, with
the squad behind it. Soon, even those sounds fell
into the distance too.  Not long after, the mortuary 
wagon and an unmarked detective car
pulled up, to take away the child's body and to learn
the information necessary for the bus investigation
from Marco and Stoker. 

Hank's talkie came to life. ##Engine 51, to HT 51.
All the gear's stowed. Want us to put the Engine
available?"##

Hank lifted up his talkie and said. 
"When we're base bound, Engine 51."

##10-4, HT 51.## came Lopez's reply. And
the station frequency fell silent.

Rubbing his mouth, Cap could see Mike and Marco
watching them from where they sat in the idling 
engine cab, waiting. He flashed them an okay sign
without radioing back. He saw them visibly relax.  

Cap sat by Roy, not directly looking at him, 
as he took in the same spectacular view of 
the valley over the concrete river bed that 
Roy seemed to be looking at. He took in a 
deep breath of the canyon's sweet, spicy air. 
"Hear that, Roy? The birds are still singing..."

Roy swung red, swollen eyes towards him. 
"Hear what, Cap? All I hear are the sounds 
of all those school kids, screaming, as that 
hill came down on top of them. I just
wanna know why it had to happen. That's all.
Is that too much for a guy to ask for?"
But Roy didn't cry again. His face remained 
only dusty and flushed.

Cap handed DeSoto back his helmet and
slowly put on his own. "Come on, let's go."
he said, grabbing a hold of Roy's gloved hand
to pull him to his feet. "We'll take the engine 
home."

DeSoto clasped Cap's dirty hand numbly,
and then used its strong steady leverage until 
he stood. Cap watched Roy put on his helmet 
only after he seemed to contemplate the 
purpose for which it served, for long, unseeing 
moments.  Then he saw Roy sigh a lengthy
quavering breath. Roy's face was now a little 
less pale but his voice was weaker than a baby's.
He murmured. "Yeah. Let's get outta here."

Cap, threw a stokes blanket around Roy's
shoulders and together, they went up the hill
to the road.
 
*************************************
Date: Wed, 15 Jan 2003 10:34:05 -0800 (PST) 
From: "Patti or Jeff or Cassidy" <voyagerliveaction@yahoo.com>  
Subject:  Come Uppance... 

It was four hours after the L.A. river call.

Marco Lopez looked up from where he was
dishing out chow for Henry. The longish hound
was snuffling excitedly as the Rival can of dog food
filled his chrome dish. All the guys were watching
him get worked up. And some of them even had
their fingers crossed for luck while Marco finished.

Stoker, ignoring their "sport", was the first 
to see Cap enter the kitchen. "How's he doing, Cap?"

"Roy? Still resting. I did order him to take a nap.  And
yes, I explained to Joanne what happened and then 
called the crisis counselor just a few minutes ago. 
She's coming for a station visit, and she's towing 
along Roy's wife. They'll one to one with him first 
and then we'll get our session over dinner as 
planned." Hank announced. He knelt and petted 
Henry as the dog licked his lips in anticipation of 
supper.

"That's good. Maybe ..having Joanne around will
help Roy get back his equilibrium." Kelly said
thoughtfully, arching his balled up snack napkin
into a wide shot for the trash bin. It landed
perfectly.

"I know it will." Cap said empathetically, rubbing
some dust out of his nose.

The gang fell to the moment as the salty scent
of horsemeat filled the air. "Do it Lopez.." Stoker
said with anticipation. "This time it's gotta work."

Marco carefully set down the dish gingerly, as if
jarring it would cause Henry to lose interest.
"There you go, Henry. Dive in."

The slowish hound looked up, licked Marco's face,
jumped down from the leather couch, almost
on top of the food bowl, and then he kept right 
on truckin forward and straight out the kitchen 
door. 

"Hey, where are you going ya crazy mutt?!" Kelly
said from where he was sipping coffee at the kitchen
table. "What a schmo...Geez, that's two cans of
grub now, slated for the trash can.."

Hank only chuckled. "You forgot Henry's a true 
station dog there, Kelly." Cap grinned. "Can't you see
he's making a house call? It's more important than
food to him."

"Yeah, Chet. He does it all the time whenever one of us
is feeling out of it." Marco said, retucking his shirt in around
his belt. He had just come out of the shower. 

Johnny neatly rose to his feet, abandoning his
coffee mug. "That's my cue.. Excuse me guys. I'm
right on Henry's angle.." and Gage, too, exited the
kitchen for the bunk dorms. On a second thought,
he grabbed a couple of donuts on the way out,
one for him and a second one for Roy.


Gage noticed that Cap had pulled all the 
shades down around Roy's bunk and had 
even set a water pitcher on the desk
tabletop with a paper already opened to the horse
racing section next to it. 

Gage smiled when he heard Roy stir in his 
sheets to play with Henry. Respectfully, he 
knocked on the wooden doorframe first 
before he entered the room further. "Roy?" 

"Yeah, Johnny. I'm awake.." his partner said.
"Didn't anybody feed Henry yet? He's acting like
he wants his bowl now."

Gage walked into the room and grabbed the
chair from the desk, inverted it, and straddled
it to sit. "Now, Roy, you know Henry won't eat for
anyone else but you. And we're dumb enough
to keep forgetting that. He turned his finicky nose 
up again at Marco just a minute ago when he
opened a can right under his face. You sure got 
a way with dogs."

Roy's face unexpectedly fell at Johnny's comment.
and he stopped petting Henry's broad back.
"Yeah, well. I wish I had a way with children right
about now. Lately my luck's been running kinda dry."

Johnny scoffed gently. "Now what's that supposed
to mean? You got two wonderful kids who're incredibly
proud to call ya dad. You got a beautiful wife.
That's more than what I got. What more can a man 
want?"

"To turn back the clock for starters. How about
turning it back about..oh,...forty eight hours or so.
Then I'd truly be a happy man, Johnny." Roy
said, with a groan. He flopped back onto his
back and drew his sheets up to his chest as
if chilled suddenly in his T shirt and boxers.

"Roy, cut it out. You shouldn't be ashamed of
your emotions. What happened out there today,
happens to all of us. H*ll, Cap's been there. He just
told us when and why over coffee a few minutes ago. 
And I bet if we took a poll, we'd find that there isn't 
a single guy on the rosters who hasn't been 
in the same shoes you wore this morning." Johnny 
said. "I'm not immune either. I've been there.
Remember? I lost it only two weeks into the 
paramedic program.."

Roy regarded Gage quietly for long seconds,
"Not everyone, Johnny." A slight smile curled 
his lips,  "What about Craig Brice?"
 
"Oh, yeah.." Johnny chuckled. "Brice. Forgot about
him. How can a man without sense of humor
find something about our line of work that'll make 
him lose his lunch? Brice sure can't. He's an Iron Man." 
Johnny  grumbled, answering his own question. "Maybe 
he should team up with Detello at ten's for a while and 
learn something about compassion." Johnny took
a bite from his donut, then belated remembered that
he had already bitten into the first one. Lamely, 
he offered the pastry to Roy.

DeSoto took it, and began offering the pieces wearing 
Johnny's tooth marks to the snuffling Henry who had 
sprawled his heavy weight across Roy's legs. "Here, buddy.
Yeah, that's a good boy.." and he smacked Henry's hide
loudly in affection. The rest, he popped into his mouth.

"Nausea finally gone?" Johnny asked.

Roy looked up, almost as if he had forgotten his
partner was there. "Yeah, that anti-emetic you gave
me worked." he said chewing slowly. "Who authorized 
that?"

"Joe Early. He knew what you had been up against 
yesterday. And understood the need for the
hypo today."

"Does everybody know about ...what happened to me?"
Roy asked quietly, caressing Henry's ear as the dog
snoozed in his lap.

"Only those who care a whip about ya." Gage quipped.
Then he leaned forward, lacing his fingers together.
"Listen, Roy, so what if it took six years for you to
finally crack on a call. Big deal. You're a human
being. It means that you care.."

"Yeah, maybe I care a little too much." Roy said 
softly.

Johnny rubbed his mouth in frustration 
and then he got angry."Oh, boy, here we 
go again. You didn't make that driver hit the 
bus. You didn't cause that canyon wall to come
caving in on us. And unless you're really Moses,
I know you didn't cause that rain storm to
flood us out like it did. So knock off the pity pit.
A paramedic's GOT to have empathy. H*ll. You're
the one who taught me that.." he sat 
back with exasperation.

Roy was silent for a time. Then he said.
"I'm thinking about leaving the program
Johnny. I really think I can't hack it any more."
he pointed to the uniform that Cap had folded
neatly on the dresser and said. "I really don't
know if I can ever get myself to wear that
uniform again. Ever. It now hurts too much.."
and his lip quavered.

Johnny showed no sympathy.
"You're just saying that. Now what would I do
in a few months if Kelly kept good on his threat 
and suddenly became my new partner?"
Johnny asked drily.

Roy finally smiled and laughed. "You two'd 
probably, most likely kill each other the first
week out."

"There ya go.." Johnny said. "So don't leave
me in that kind of spot. And quit talkin like
that. You're just hurting, that's all. You're not
disabled. A little time taken with the family
will make it all right again."

"Now you're sounding like Cap." Roy said.

"Good, cause he's right. And that's what
he said worked for him when he cracked 
over his own child call."

Roy sat up. "You know something Gage?"

"What..?" Gage said, curling Henry's tail
and scratching its white furred tip until Henry 
picked up his head to see who was messing
with it. Henry's tail started wagging when he
saw who it was.

"You're right. M- Maybe that's all I'll need.
A little time off. Just enough ta.. get my clear
thinking back again and maybe I'll even find 
that sense of inner balance that I had before.. "
he said, grinning.

"That's the ticket.." Johnny beamed, 
taking another bite out of his donut.

"No, wait a minute, I can't go on leave."

"Why not? You got enough vacation time
coming to ya. As long as I've known ya, you've
only been on vacation twice. Once to Santa Rosa
with me, and the other time when you took
Joanne and the kids to the f--" he broke
off.

"You can say it, Johnny. Farm. I'm not mad
at you over that any more. I mean who can
control circumstance?"

"And that's it right there, Roy. On your coming
days off, hold that thought and you think about
it, real hard.." With that, Gage disappeared, 
leaving the rest of his donut abandoned on the 
bedspread.

Roy blinked, amazed that Johnny could move
so fast. And that, in itself, made him think all
the more about Roy DeSoto.  Johnny's cool advice
and Henry's warm tongue on his fingers, made 
him mull over what was really the most 
important thing going on in his life apart from 
his family.

Sighing, Roy picked up the donut and began 
doling out the correct pieces to the proper 
mouths. Then, feeling thirsty, he reached 
for the water container.

And a bit later, after a long tearful talk with
the crisis counselor and Joanne,....

...Roy DeSoto reached for his uniform..

----------------------------------------------

Returning back to the present, all three ranked 
firemen realized that their stomachs were growling.

Captain Gage rose from his chair. "All right if I dig in?
You guys can join me."

"Rank does have privileges.." Stanley agreed, holding up
his chowder bowl. "Let's eat,... Cap." Hank teased.

Beside them, Roy DeSoto began to laugh wholeheartedly
at the nickname used by Hank. "That sounds so... odd..
coming from you." he admitted.

Soon, the trio were filling their stomachs while sharing
current news and catching up with each other's past
during the few years that had gone by following Gage and 
DeSoto's promotion.

-----------------------------------------------------------------------

Photo:  Cap pouring Roy and Johnny coffee in the kitchen.

Photo:   McConnikee with Hank, looking glum.

Photo:  Roy and Johnny over soup, listening.

Photo:   Roy holding a boy in a mudslide.

Photo:  A school bus crash.

Photo:   A body in a river.

Photo:   Roy crying with Gage reassuring.

Photo:   Chet tending an unconscious Henry.

Photo:   Doc Coolidge, the animal shelter vet.

Photo:   Brackett, Dix and the gang treating Henry in a Mayfair.

*Animation*:  Sunlight reflecting off moving waves.
 
***********************************************
From : patti keiper <pattik1@hotmail.com>
Date: Sun Apr 13, 2008 1:28 pm 
Subject: A Moment Of Weakness..
  
Johnny burped loudly and pushed away his chowder bowl.

"Still that good, eh?" Hank chuckled. 

"Nothing like home cooking. And this station still feels like 
home to the both of us."

"Sure does." said Roy, wearing a huge contented smile on
his face.

"I know what you mean. And I guess 48's is still mine. And
I haven't been doing much with them, except eyeballing the 
number on their trucks when they show up for our annual 
brush fire details, for alot of years now." Stanley admitted. 

"Haven't you ever wanted to go back to those days?" DeSoto 
asked him, his face growing quiet and thoughtful as he
leaned forward on his arms resting on the table around his
meal.

Captain Stanley smiled ruefully and scratched his whitening
temples. "Past missing familiar surroundings, sights and smells, 
I can't say the ties I had there were that memorable, Roy.
Unlike what we had together, my first crewmates just worked as 
a team and got the job done. And it definitely wasn't a blessing
that Dick Hammer followed me here to 51's when the time came.
I lasted only a month before I transferred out to 24's. I was so
upset that a man like that so abused the captain's spot, I vowed 
to learn to be a captain, too. Just so I could prove that I could be 
better at it than--"  Hank  broke off, realizing that he was sharing 
something private and deeply personal.

Roy and Johnny froze, not believing their ears at first. Then
they registered the shock on Hank's face, his look forcing them 
to react.

Gage's expression faded from surprise, and he smiled in 
soft politeness. "Cap, that last thing you said,.. We know it slipped out. 
You don't have to say anything more about it. Some things are better
left uns--"

Hank fell silent and he suddenly looked burdened while he studied 
the coffee grounds still clinging to the bottom of his empty coffee mug. 
"Well, not this time. Now you know why I was so worried about what
Chief McConnikee would do to me for burning his hat. I didn't want to
lose my new Cap's spot that I was using to show everybody what I 
could do before I lost confidence in myself and my abilities, for what 
I did to Hammer."

"Dick was a negative stimulus?" Gage asked, confused.

"No, actually. A twisted positive one. Sort of like what Brice was to you 
whenever he seemed to always come up smelling like roses." Stanley 
said, finally beginning to smile. "Hammer wasn't a bad man. He still isn't. 
But I still can't condone what he was doing in his final days with all of 
you behind your backs." Stanley sighed tiredly, almost whispering.

Now it was Roy and Johnny's turn to be disturbed. Finally, Roy spoke
to fill the stretch of silence building between them. "Hank, what 
happened before you came back to Station 51? We never noticed 
anything different in Dick."

Gage amended. "Well, not that different anyway. I mean, there were
changes. More time spent in his office.. The darker moods.." Then he 
turned to his old partner. "Roy, remember?"

DeSoto's face fell into old thoughts. "Kinda. Maybe...uh, it would help
if we had something more to go on... Cap?"

Hank slowly put the cover onto the chowder pot, keeping it hot for the
rest of the gang for when they came back inside for lunch after finishing
the back yard chores. "Maybe I should start from the beginning.." he
said, meeting both of their eyes sadly. "It seems you guys don't remember
that particular event that he and I never, ever forgot."

---------------------------------------------------------------------------

Another deep groaning rumble echoed through the abandoned
building and rattled both trucks of Station 51 where they sat at the
ready along the curbside.

Captain Dick Hammer knelt before the boy. "And you say your friend's 
still in there? How old is he?"

"Billy's eleven.." replied the dusty kid. "He got lost. We didn't mean 
to go inside."

Vince Howard frowned ruefully. "Didn't you see the orange signs posted
on the doors about collapse danger? The whole building's condemned."

"We both bought good slingshots. We just had to try them out on all the 
rats." replied the city wise boy proudly.

Policeman Howard grabbed the plaster powdered kid by the arm. 
"They're fast enough to get out of way. And it seems, smarter, too. 
Didn't you realize something was wrong when you didn't find any of 
them running around inside?"

Behind them, a fourth story floor fell internally under the weight of 
the morning's rain, causing another cloud of dust to rise up into
the mist.

"I didn't know..." sobbed the boy as the horrible din died away. His
tears mingled with the raindrops running down his face.

"Let's just better hope your friend's in an open spot, or else you and both
your mothers will never hear the end of it, coming from me!" Vince spat, 
disgusted with the bravado of the young. "Let's go call them now."

Feeling a wave of unaccountable dread, Dick directed a very freshly
assigned Gage into DeSoto's shadow for the first scout into the old
hulking department store. "Gang.. grab the portapower, first aid gear
and radios. Stoker, it won't hurt to get the listening probe ready."

"Yes, Captain." Mike replied.

"Roy, Johnny, start scouting around. And be careful. I want life lines
on the both of ya. Manned." Hammer ordered....

The scene faded out...

---------------------------------------------------

Back in the present, the three captains shifted in their chairs uncomfortably.

Gage looked up somberly. "I remember now. It was Hammer who finally 
found him and-- that kid.... he....didn't make it out alive....Right?"

Hank nodded minisculely. "That's how the chief explained it to me at
the official inquisition later on. I was given all the rescue notes on it 
because I was called as a character witness for what happened a  
week afterward."

"How did that boy die?" Roy asked, still not remembering. 

"Both of his lungs were ruptured." Stanley replied. "He wouldn't ventilate
during CPR. You weren't there. You were called away for a bystander who
fainted on the sidewalk who had been watching the rescue from across the 
street. A second ambulance was called and you had to go in with her."

Johnny's eyes grew blank. "Roy, Hammer didn't stay on scene. He insisted on
riding along with me during that child's code. He ordered the others back to the
station except for Marco, who followed your patient in with the squad since
ours had basically d--" he broke off, suddenly putting two and two together.
"Cap," he said, meeting Hank's troubled eyes. "What did you notice on
Dick later that was so bad? Leaving charge of a fire crew's not an offense. 
Not for an active resuscitation attempt."

Stanley didn't look up. In fact, he looked nauseated. "Dick's got kids of
his own. So does Roy, and...and..and me. Lord knows how finding a fatally 
mangled child would have effected me or any of us if things had been different.
But it was Dick facing it back then. Alone..." he sighed. "One week following
that death, my station and yours were called to a hotel fire. Dick asked
me to go get his assignment slateboard he had forgotten to grab. I did so, for
he was incident commander for the duration. Well, I.. went back to the engine, 
just like he asked, and I got the board for him." Hank told them matter of factly. 
But then his eyes clouded. "But when I slammed the door shut again, I heard 
a tinkling of something made of glass, spinning around on the floor under his 
seat. I..I...well I, just couldn't believe my eyes when I pulled out a half empty 
bottle of Jack Daniels into my glove."

Gage and Roy both startled. "He was drinking on the job?"

"Yeah. And a random chief appointed spot check from the cops on 
another call later proved that he still had alcohol in his blood while on active 
duty. I had to turn him in. For any command decision he made for you 
guys while under the influence could have proven to be a wrong one." 
Stanley shared miserably. 
 
Roy whispered. "You were protecting us."

Hank rubbed his face. "Then why do I still feel guilty about it? Guys, 
I ruined that man's career. The department made him retire for
unresolved job stress effects."

"You did what you had to do." DeSoto emphasized.

"It was by the book." Gage agreed. 

Stanley sighed, looking haunted.
"I don't know why the crisis counselors weren't effective that particular 
time for Dick. And he still doesn't know it was me who discovered his 
newly formed dependency problem. You guys probably just saw his
increased cigarette smoking."

Johnny nodded, still serious. "How's he doing now?"

"Dick's back participating in sports, like he used to when he was
part of the Olympics. And he's not an alcoholic anymore." Stanley
said.  But he couldn't find it in himself to smile at the outcome.
"Thank G*d his kids still think he's a hero."

--------------------------------------------------------

Photo:   Dick Hammer in his inspection Captain's hat.

Photo:   Cap holding a clam chowder pot.

Photo:   Roy and Hammer working inside a derelict building in turnouts.

Photo:   A man's fingers feeling for a coratid pulse on a child.

Photo:   Gage holding a dead child, Hammer holding child's head.

Photo:   Captain Dick Hammer looking stressed in his skunk striped helmet.

Photo:   Captain Stanley looking worn, eating.

Photo:   Roy and Johnny smiling over soup bowls at Station 51.

**************************************************
From: patti keiper <pattik1@hotmail.com> 
Date: Sun Apr 13, 2008 11:46 pm 
Subject: Carbon Copies.. 
 
In his darkened Intensive Care Room, Kel Brackett
finally let the sedatives they had pumped into his system
take full hold. Slowly, the sound of the myriads of
monitors keeping tabs on his blood pressure and other
vitals signs, faded out.

Sighing, he felt Dixie squeeze his hand encouragingly
as she whispered that she was still there, close by.

Dimly he could make out long hair silhouetted in
the faint light of the ward, and the glint of loving
tears from his future wife's eyes as she sat down near 
him.

"I love you, Dix..." he gasped, through his oyxgen mask.

"Shhh, go to sleep, hon. I'll still be here when you awaken."

Soon, the head of the Cardiology Department fell to dreaming 
about past events that had been equally as painful to Kel
as his current illness....

******************************************
Date: Tue, 19 Nov 2002 18:54:30 -0800 (PST) 
From: "Jeff Seltun" <finiterider@yahoo.com>  
Subject:  The Stuff of Dreams 

(From Father And Sons, Episode Two)

 The phone rang two times and the
pauses showing his call going unanswered
between them only increased his
anxiety. ::Why am I feeling like an errant
school boy? I'm forty two years old.
Dad is just dad to me, isn't he?:: his 
thoughts rose.

-------     -------     -------  

"Because he's you're dad." Dixie's voice
spoke from his memory of a conversation
he had a week ago with his husky throated
head ER nurse on just that same subject. 
"And you still look up to him. After all, you 
did follow in his footsteps getting into the 
medical field." she said.

"Emergency medicine's a far cry from
psychiatry, Dix. I didn't follow anyone to
get where I am today. Especially not him."
Kel said a little defensively when Dix's
comment stuck a little too far into the
real truth of matters. "Also, I've branched
off into cardiology, too, and that's an even 
more unrelated area than being some office
bound,  leather chair to couch side shrink."

Dix's frosted eyebrows rose in amazement.
"Oh? I'd say in that way, you and your father
are in an area a little closer together my fine, 
fretting friend. You both deal with matters of 
the heart. Only yours deals with just the 
physical aspects of things. You fix the body
whereas he fixes the mind. Quite a complimentary
pair to have in one family, in my book. You should
team up together, Kel. Even if just to compare
professional notes or something. Might be a way 
for you two to work out differences."
she said gently, handing Dr. Brackett a cup 
of coffee.

"We are. I have dinner with him once a month."

"Oh, really." Dix said, throwing disbelieving doe
eyes at Kel. "There's twelve months in a year,
Kel. And I distinctly remember setting up
reservations at Mannie's for you and your father
only twice total, since this time last year.."

Kel's chin twitched. "I've been busy.."

"Yeah, well so have I. " Dix countered. 
"Although in my case, I haven't been too
busy to see family I care about, to drift
apart from again, due to carelessness."

From anyone else, Dixie's remark would
earn a scathing sharp reply. But Kel and
Dix were the best of friends, been old flames 
even, at one time. And what she said and felt,
was still very very important to him.
"You .....really think so?" he said, studying his
hands and rubbing absently at their surgical
dryness.

Dix shoved a jar of hand cream at him across
the lounge table. "I  know so. I've seen you
two cross by my desk everyday. Brent to
his office on the ninth floor and you to yours.
I can't believe you two even work in the same
hospital. He could be in Greece for all the contact
I've seen. I can read the whole state of affairs between
you two just by the degree of scowling on your
faces. You in particular, have a certain cheek
twitch that pops up whenever you think of
your father.."

"I do not.." Dr. Brackett protested.

"You do... Ahaa!" she cried out in triumph. 
"There it is again! That's seven times today already."
She leaned forward, finely filed nails clicking
on the formica table top. "And for me, that's
a critical sign with only one treatment available
in my line of thinking.......Go call him, Kel.
Arrange one of those well overdue dinner
dates. You both are in severe need for quality 
father/son family time.....Oh,.. Just one thing
though.."

Kel's face was sheepish as he used the cream
Dixie had given him briskly to ease his chapped
aching hands. "And what's that, Dix?"

"Promise me you'll both leave your white
doctor coats at home.."

********************************
From : "satchie51" <satchie51@hotmail.com>  
Subject :  [EmergencyTheaterLive] Dinner Reservations     
Date : Fri, 22 Nov 2002 15:50:32 -0000  
 
Outside Mannie's Restaurant..

Kel reluctantly relinquished his car to the
restaurant's valet.  He walked toward the
entrance with the enthusiasm of a man facing his
executioner, not his own father.  Summoning his
resolve, he approached the maitre d'.

"Yes sir.  How may I help you?"

Taking a deep breath, he replied, "I'm joining
Dr. Brent Brackett for dinner."

The maitre d' nodded.  "Ah, yes.  He's been
expecting you.  Please come this way."

Numbly, Kel walked to the familiar table.  A
distinguished looking gentleman was already seated.
He glanced disapproving at his watch.  "You're
late.  I thought perhaps you changed your mind."

"I'm sorry.  Things got a bit hectic in the ER at
the last minute.  I didn't think I was going to
be able to get away," Kel apologized.

The elder Brackett appeared dubious.  "I see."

"Dad…"

"It would have been typical of you not to show up.
You've been avoiding me like the plague for ages."

Kel guiltily stared at his fingernails.  In truth,
he had initiated this dinner engagement at Dixie's
urging.  Over the past two days, however, he must
have considered at least a dozen excuses to cancel
this evening's plans.  Emotional intimacy had never
been his forte, especially with his father.  He
deliberately accepted the responsibility of two
additional patients after his shift ended in order
to stall for time.  That's why he was running
twenty minutes behind schedule.  Breaking the
awkward silence, Kel motioned to the waiter to
bring him a drink.

Brent raised his eyebrow.  "Am I that unpleasant
to be around that you need a drink?"

"No.  No, of course not.  It's been a long day,
and I'm tired and I'd like a scotch."  Noticing
the glass clutched in his father's hand, Kel
retorted, "I see you're imbibing in your usual
poison.  Do you need alcohol to feel comfortable
around your own son?"

"You're being ridiculous."

"Then stop interpreting my actions as though
there's a hidden psychological meaning behind
them.  Sometimes a cigar is just a cigar."

"Point taken," Brent conceded.  "So how has
work been, besides busy?"

"Pretty much the same," Kel shrugged.  "The
new hospital administrator doesn't appreciate
the value of the paramedic program to the
community, so I've been having some interesting
`discussions' lately."

"Do you want to talk about it?"

"Not really."

The other man thoughtfully steepled his fingers.
"Why not?"

"Dad, I'm not one of your patients, all right?"
Kel was developing an excruciating headache.
He began to methodically massage his right
temple.

"Kel, for crying out loud!  I'm a psychiatrist,
not a witch doctor.  It's an honorable profession.
Unfortunately, you've always acted like you were
ashamed of what I did for a living.  I didn't get
my degree out of a cereal box.  I went to medical
school at Harvard, and completed a residency and
fellowship at Johns Hopkins, perfectly respectable
institutions.  Somehow you never seemed to accept
my vocation as a `real' job.  Sitting in a plush
office and keeping a schedule didn't seem to fit
your definition of work."

"Don't you think this conversation is a little
one-sided?  As I recall, you weren't exactly
supportive of my educational choices either.  I
wanted to put myself through school so I wouldn't
feel pressured to follow in your footsteps.  I
waited on tables, parked cars and even worked as
an evening janitor at the university in order to
put myself through school.  Granted, I didn't have
the same Ivy League education you had, but I earned
my way through my own efforts, and I'm proud of that.
And I distinctly remember how horrified you were
when I announced I wanted to go into emergency
medicine.  You called it barbaric, and said I'd
wash out in a week."  Smiling smugly, Kel added,
"Well, I'm still here."

Shaking his head, Brent argued, "You still don't
understand what this is about, do you?"

"I presume you're going to enlighten me."

The father sighed in frustration.  "You've been
so blasted determined to escape from what you
perceived to be my shadow, you've been running
at full throttle most of your life.  You thought
my occupation was boring, so you chose the most
exciting one you could imagine, emergency medicine."

Kel pondered this thought while he took a sip
of his scotch.

"But don't you see?" Brent asked.  "You're still
acting like this is some bizarre competition
between us.  It's not, you know."

Mercifully, the waiter appeared to take their
order.  Kel had little appetite, but knew he was
expected to follow the ritual.  Without looking
at the menu, he mechanically recited the desired
items.  His anxiety was mounting with each passing
moment.  Concealed by the linen tablecloth, he was
clenching and unclenching his fists.

"Dad, I simply wanted to be my own man.  That's a
normal desire."

"That's true, if not taken to extremes.  But you
never know when to draw the line.  Everything is
all or nothing, black or white," his father chided.
When you decided to become a doctor, you couldn't
settle for just any specialty.  You had to outdo me
and prove you were better than your old man.  And
what could be more dramatically different than a
field that deals with life and death issues every
minute?"

His father's words cut him with the precision of
a surgeon's scalpel.  An uncomfortable feeling in
his stomach was making its presence known.  Kel
replied, "You've never accepted the fact that
we're totally different people with different
interests.  Maybe sitting around talking to people
all day long is your cup of tea, but it isn't mine.
I thrive on the excitement of the emergency room."

"What is it precisely that you find so appealing?
Is it the power you wield of being the head of the
department, or saving people's lives?"

Kel's famous temper flared.  "Saving people's lives,
of course!"

"And you don't think I help save people's lives?"
Brent shot back.  "You may have looked down upon
my profession and the scheduled hours I kept, but
they allowed me the luxury of being able to raise
a family and participate in a healthy social life.
On the other hand, you'd rather work like a maniac
to the exclusion of all else.  You're forty-two years
old and you have no life to speak of.  You're not able
to sustain relationships, and your time is essentially
confined to the hospital and your apartment."

Color began to drain from the younger man's face.
He was furious that his father would dare to presume
to lecture him, particularly in a public setting.

Undeterred, Brent continued.  "Even though we rarely
get together, we do work in the same hospital.  I
know you're working yourself into an early grave.
Your long hours and avoidance of vacations are
legendary.  But it's taking its toll on you.  You
look exhausted.  You're pale, you've lost weight
and you look like you're not sleeping well."

Incredulous, Kel warned, "This is none of your
business."

"You're my son.  That makes it my business."

A war waged within Kel.  He was angry with his
father for pursuing this line of conversation,
and with Dixie for insisting he schedule this
stupid meeting.  Most of all, he was angry with
himself for allowing events to unfold as they had.
After all these years, he should have known better
than to discuss certain topics with his father.
It was a foregone conclusion he would always lose
these heated debates.  The throbbing in his temple
worsened.

"Dad, you have no right to make judgments about
how I choose to live my life."

Brent leaned back in the leather-upholstered chair.
"Then answer me this question.  Did you succeed?"

Kel was thoroughly confused.  "Succeed in what?"

"Did you prove to yourself you're not me?"

"I don't understand."

"Obviously you thought I was so terrible that
you went through extraordinary measures to avoid
being like me.  In personality, temperament, interests,
profession, you've tried to be my opposite in every
way.  But you're a grown man now.  You've established
yourself."  Brent's tone softened and he gently placed
his hand on Kel's forearm.  "Son, if you're still
running away from something, do you even know where
you're running to?"

Suddenly Kel felt the room was closing in on him.
Overwhelmed by nausea, he bolted from the table
and raced to the men's room.  Standing over the
toilet, he proceeded to lose what little he had
eaten earlier in the day.

A few minutes later, he splashed his face with cold
water to revive himself.  He caught his reflection
in the mirror.  For the first time, he didn't see
the cocky, self-assured head of emergency services
at Rampart.  He saw an insecure little boy wanting
to be anyone but his father.

********************************
From :  "SM Fortis" <satchie51@hotmail.com>  
Subject : [EmergencyTheaterLive] The Restaurant Confessional  
Date :  Wed, 27 Nov 2002 09:42:38 -0600  
   

Grateful to be home in his own apartment, Kel
stretched out on the couch.  Despite Joe’s
advice he wait awhile before scheduling another
reconciliation attempt, Kel promptly contacted
his father and made reservations for dinner that
evening.  Patience never had been his greatest
virtue.  His colleague was right in one respect.
If Kel dictated the terms of the meeting and tried
to keep the conversation on message, perhaps he
would feel more in control of the situation.  He
was determined not to feel powerless in the presence
of Brent Brackett again.

Since his return home, Dixie called twice to make
sure he was okay.  To combat his growing anxiety,
Kel occupied himself by spending most of the
afternoon performing errands and browsing at a
jazz record store Joe was always raving about.
After purchasing a couple of albums, he glanced
at his watch and headed back to his apartment.

He was pleased to discover the patio door was
already replaced.  One unpleasant reminder of the
previous evening’s events was now conveniently
eradicated.  Unfortunately, the stark white bandages
wrapping his right hand and arm were still grim
reminders of his angry outburst.  Kel cringed at
the memory of his senseless act.

Placing his package on the table, he headed toward
his bedroom and began rummaging through his closet
for an appropriate suit.  After a quick shower and
shave, Kel changed clothes and left ahead of schedule.
He thought if he arrived at the restaurant first,
he would feel less intimidated by his father.  He
was resolved not to leave in humiliation again.

The maitre d’ promptly greeted Kel and ushered
him to his table.  He briefly closed his eyes and
drew a deep breath, trying to prepare himself for
the exchange that awaited him.  Looking through
the windows, Kel saw a spectacular sunset.  Somehow
the scene comforted and encouraged him.  The advice
of his friends was at the forefront of his mind
right now.  The sooner he could establish some
common ground with his father, the sooner their
fractured relationship could begin to heal.

Shortly thereafter, the elder Brackett was escorted
to the table.  Kel rose not only as a point of
etiquette, but also as a token of respect.  Brent
offered his hand in greeting, and suddenly Kel
felt self-conscious about his injury.  Pasting
an uncomfortable smile on his face, he gingerly
shook his father’s hand.

Brent frowned.  "What happened to your arm?"

"Oh, I had a little accident at home.  I’m fine."
Eager to deflect attention from himself, Kel asked,
"Did you have any problems finding the restaurant?"

"No, not at all.  Your directions were quite
specific."  Appreciatively eyeing the premises,
Brent remarked, "This place has a very cozy
atmosphere.  How did you happen upon this amazing
little discovery?"

Kel inwardly smiled at the memories of many pleasant
evenings he shared with Dixie here.  "A friend
introduced me to it several years ago.  I hoped
the change of venue would provide a fresh start
for us.  There would be no ghosts from the past
to haunt us."  Signaling the waiter, he ordered
a round of drinks for the two of them, preferring
club soda for himself.  He decided he could not
afford to have his thoughts clouded by alcohol,
nor his famous temper unleashed by lowered
inhibitions.  No, tonight Kel needed his complete
faculties.

His father’s brow furrowed.  "You’re not having
your usual?"

"I’m taking some medication," Kel lied.

"I heard you took a rare day off today.  Is
everything okay?"

That was the problem with a small community like
Rampart, news traveled fast.  How much did his
father know about last night?  Kel’s answer was
evasive.  "I had some personal business to attend
to."

"I have to admit, I was surprised to hear from you
this afternoon," Brent said.  "I thought our last
meeting went rather badly."

Taking a sip of his drink, Kel proceeded, "That’s
why I wanted to see you again so soon.  I think
we’ve allowed this situation to go on long enough.
Don’t you agree?"

His father sighed.  "So, has the prodigal son
experienced some glorious epiphany since we last
met?"

"Dad, I’m simply tired of this ridiculous state
of affairs.  We’ve been at odds since I was a kid.
Okay, I’m not a brilliant psychiatrist, so maybe
I’m too dense to understand the official psychobabble
explanation.  But I’m smart enough to know this
standoff has come to an end."

"You always have been willful."

The men were granted a respite when the waiter
came to take their order.  They sat in silence
for several minutes, each studiously avoiding
contact.  It was painfully obvious neither felt
comfortable in the other’s presence.

Finally, Brent addressed his son.  "I understand
you were upset with me last night."

Kel shot his father a baleful glare.  "We’re not
here to discuss MY problems.  We’re here to
discuss OURS."

"Okay, so what’s really on your mind?"

Attempting to keep his tone of voice devoid of
emotion, Kel asked, "Why DID you move to Los
Angeles?  Of all the places in the country you
could have relocated to, why did you have to move
here, and why did you choose to practice at
Rampart?"

Brent stared at the table centerpiece.  "Your mother
wanted the two of us to make amends.  Since it
was obvious you weren’t going to make the first
step, she thought I should swallow my foolish pride
and initiate the process."

"I don’t understand."

"When you were a boy, we used to enjoy spending
time together, as strange as that seems now.  We
went almost everywhere together."  A small smile
escaped Brent’s lips.  "I used to take you to the
hospital with me, and you’d tell anyone who would
listen that you were my son, and you were going to
be a doctor like me when you grew up."

The older man remorsefully shook his head.  "But
soon your youthful boasts appealed to my vanity.
I envisioned you as my own immortality, so I wanted
to remold you in my image.  Since you were always
so willing to please me, I assumed you would be
agreeable to this arrangement.  I honestly pictured
us spending quality time together over the years,
and in due time, I foresaw the day when you would
take your rightful place as my partner in my
clinical practice."

"But it didn’t quite work out that way," Kel said
flatly.

"Unfortunately, it didn’t.  I pushed you away
instead. In my arrogance, I refused to recognize
you as a unique individual.  You always had a
sense of your own identity."

"I resented you dictating my life," Kel stated.
"You never bothered to ask me if I wanted to
participate in your grand plans or not.  All I
knew is one day I was Dad’s precious son who
could do no wrong, and then the next you found
fault with everything I did.  No detail was too
insignificant to escape your exacting scrutiny.
I thought you didn’t love me anymore."

"But that was the problem," Brent explained.  "I
loved you too much, but in an unhealthy way.  Ironic,
isn’t it?  Here I was, a well-renown psychiatrist,
but I wasn’t able to see I was sabotaging our
relationship.  Every time you rebelled and became
angrier, I became more critical.  Because you failed
to conform, I assumed you were stupid and ungrateful.
I felt like a failure not only as a father, but also
as a psychiatrist.  My ego wouldn’t allow me to admit
I had failed.  Until the day you left, I had to keep
trying to remake you."

Kel rubbed his face.  "Why didn’t you say anything
before?

"Saying ‘I’m sorry’ has never come easily to me.
I didn’t realize the full implications of what I
had done to you until you were gone.  By that time,
we were barely speaking to each other.  Over the
years, begging for forgiveness became next to
impossible."

Conflicting emotions swirled within Kel.  He was
angry with his father for not mentioning any of
this earlier, but he understood how difficult it
must have been for him to do so tonight.  Kel
took after his father in that respect.  It was
not in his nature to cross emotional barriers
without significant effort.  If it were not for
the encouragement of Dixie and Joe, he would not
be here this evening having this conversation.
He knew he was hardly in a position to judge his
father on this particular point.

But he also felt a myriad of other feelings:
abandonment, betrayal, resentment, bewilderment
and surprisingly, still even love.  Kel saw his
father with new eyes.  Brent didn’t look so arrogant
and controlling now.  Instead, he came across as an
aging pathetic figure that once hoped to live forever
through his son.

For a long period of time, the two men did not
speak.  They were content to nurse their drinks
and stare into oblivion.  They were relieved when
the waiter served the food.  For a few moments
they would be spared the necessity of having to
engage in conversation.

As they began to eat, Brent looked on with genuine
concern since Kel seemed to have trouble carving
his steak due to his injured hand.  "Do you need
any help with that?" he offered.

"No, that’s okay, I have it under control.  I’m
pretty good with a knife, if I do say so myself,"
Kel grinned.

"I see you haven’t lost your sense of modesty
over the years."

The son shrugged.  "It’s hard to be humble and
great at the same time."

"You’re a lot like your mother in some ways, very
resilient and single-minded.  I know you tend to
think of it as a sign of weakness, but you’re more
compassionate like she is."  Brent softly said,
"After all these years, your mother has never
forgiven me for driving you away from us.  I’m
not sure I’ve forgiven myself."

Kel was confused.  He wasn’t sure what he expected
from this evening’s meeting, but his father’s
uncharacteristic confession certainly wasn’t it.
He shifted uncomfortably in his chair.  Recent
conversations with Dixie and Joe weighed heavily
upon his conscience.  Years of hurt could not be
easily erased with a simple apology.  Yet, they
needed to begin somewhere.  He thought of his mother,
and the years of anguish this rift must have caused
her.  Didn’t he at least owe it to her to make an
effort?

Staring at his nearly full plate, Kel tentatively
cleared this throat.  "Dad, as you’ve pointed out
before, I’ve never been good at maintaining
relationships.  But maybe now is a good time to
begin.  Don’t you think it’s time we started
behaving like two grown men and put aside our
differences, if for no other reason than for
Mom’s sake?"

"I don’t even know where to begin," Brent said
reluctantly.

Cautiously leaning forward, Kel spoke.  "Perhaps
it’s time for you to visit me in my office for a
change.  You know, see me in my natural habitat?
It’s possible I subconsciously went into emergency
medicine to spite you or to prove something to myself.
But somewhere along the way I discovered it was
my passion.  I really love this field, and I’m
good at it.  I can’t imagine being happier anywhere
else but the emergency room of Rampart.  What do
you say, Dad?"

Brent considered his son’s proposal.  "I don’t know.
I heard the head of the department can be a real
bear and a force to be reckoned with."

"No, those are all vicious rumors," Kel chuckled.
"He’s a real pussycat once you get to know him.
At least that’s what the head nurse is fond
of pointing out."

"Speaking of the head nurse, do I have your
reassurances she’s not going to bite my head
off if I set foot in the ER?  She must think
I give you such grief."

"No, Dad.  In fact, she’s one of the reasons
I called you.  Dixie has been after me for ages
to get me to end this conflict.  She’s a
persistent woman."

"Sounds like your mother," Brent joked.  The two
men laughed.  For the first time all evening, they
felt genuinely relaxed.

"How about meeting me in my office for coffee
tomorrow morning?" Kel asked.  "I can give you
a tour of my department."  With a tinge of a
little boy’s expectation in his voice he added,
"Hopefully you’ll be proud of what your son has
become."

******************************
From : "Roxy Dee" <laterrapincabesa@hotmail.com>  
Subject : Patch Job~~  
Date : Tue, 03 Dec 2002 15:25:14 +0000 

They piped down when Kel came through the treatment
doors not alone, but accompanied by Brent Brackett,
the tyrannical father figure they had heard so much about
through Paramedic Mendelson in the hall.

Dix cast significant eyes at Johnny and Roy and the rest
of the gang in the room and angled her head to show
her statement about their making amends was really
quite true. She started heading for the door.

Kel called out after her. "Say Dix, did you get Roy's 
blood samples for the l--?"  he broke off when Dix
held up the three vials already clasped in her long
fingernails without turning around. "oh... ok."

Dixie winked at the gang on her way out.

Dr. Brackett noticed the unusual presence of Roy's
coworkers in the room, trying to blend in with 
the glass medicine cabinets. "Roy, you've quite an 
entourage of fans here. Didn't know you were so 
popular. Thought Gage here was the star in your 
outfit."

"They're worried about Chet, doc." DeSoto said
without smiling.

"Nothing to worry about." Brent Brackett spoke
up instantly.

Dr. Brackett stiffened at his father's intrusion into
his patient / doctor territory, but the firemen all saw 
Kel relax a bit when Kel realized Brent was actually
bringing his own skills to bear accordingly as
was his right as senior attending house psychologist.

"We just left him and his chest Xray, young man.
Looking good. Both of them." Brent told Roy and
the rest of the firemen in the room, hanging on
to his white coat's lapels.

Johnny's eye rose skeptically, making Kel smirk
in mild amusement. "What Dr. Brackett is saying, is true. 
Chet's chest Xray is showing little edema and a huge 
reduction in swelling. Looks like the effect of the lungful 
of ammonia he took in was only temporary, made that
way, by your prompt fast action with administering 
unmoistened O2. And even his abdominal plates look 
good. I saw only minor shadowing over his spleen. 
The mast trousers did their job. All bleeding's under 
control. The surgery I'm doing on him should just be 
a patch job, gentlemen.."

"That's a relief.." Mike Stoker sighed. "It wasn't fun
seeing Chet fly off my engine like he did."

"Yeah, Chet's no superman.." Gage chuckled.

They hushed down when Kel Brackett finished
checking Roy out. DeSoto showed him the place
where the ammonia had soaked into his arm.
Only a little reddening was showing up under the
light. "Mild first degree freeze burn. I don't think
any had time to get into your blood stream, Roy.
Your lab tests will reveal that for sure in a few 
minutes. Get dressed. We're through. Just be 
sure to call me on return of symptoms, all right?"

"You got it, doc.." he said.

Kel hurried out the door to head for surgery.

Brent was left in the room with the gang 
and he handed Roy his T- shirt back. "Is he
a good man to work with, Kel Brackett? 
Afraid to admit, that I've really just started 
watching him work, only tonight."

Roy answered without hesitation, but subconsciously
straightening from where he sat on the treatment
gurney. "One of the best, sir. He singlehandedly 
saved the Paramedic Program from being legislated 
out of operation during its earliest days and he 
trained not only me, personally, but my partner
Johnny here, as well, to function as efficient 
intermediary caregivers in just about any prehospital 
setting. To date, in only six years, Dr. Brackett 
created twenty paramedic teams  embedded 
in just as many firehouses across L. A. 
County. Entirely due to his own hard work and 
perserverence."

Brent laughed openly and clasped Roy's
hand warmly. "My g*d. Do we need an
introduction my boy! Seems Dixie's really
painted me out to be the worst ogre of a two
ogre pair now hasn't she?
You're practically foaming at the mouth singing
praises about my boy, son. Relax....True, I'm just
like Kel in temperment,  but I'm mellower by miles.. 
A trait of all this gray hair, I suppose. Listen..I really 
appreciate your devotion to my son's work.. 
Sounds very genuine if I do say so myself.
Mr...mr..."

"DeSoto.." Roy said, returning the handshake.

Johnny's nervous smile fell off into a sideways
grin of relief.

"DeSoto. A solid French name. And the rest of you?"

A round of introductions came after that from Cap
right on down to Stoker.

-------------------------------------------------

They ended up in the coffee lounge, away from public
view, so the firefighting gear wouldn't alarm hospital
visitors.  Brent Brackett learned a whole lot about
his son from Dixie and the Station 51 crew over
the next hour while they waited for word about
Chet's surgery results.

Brent finally couldn't stand their fretting. He rose,
abandoning his coffee mug. "All right. I've monopolized
your good graces enough folks, digging for dirt or gold
concerning my very grown son. Tell you what.. 
I've got a lot of clout around here as house psych. 
Think I'll peek in on how Kel's handling your man, 
captain." he said.

Cap looked startled. "You don't have to do
that. We know Chet's probably fine, doctor. Just
a patch surgery job, Kel said."


"Be that as it may. I'll be killing two birds with one
stone by making the round. I'll get your answer
for you that much sooner and I'll be able to see
my son in action at the same time. Fair trade off."

"Just stay in the observation room.." Dix chided.

"Where would the fun be in that, Miss McCall? I want
to see how my son works under pressure.."

Dix scowled, but it was tempered with amusement.
"Family peer pressure's dirty pool, doctor, and you
know it.."

"Kel can handle it. After all, he's handled this whole
paramedic thing and all these men behind it for six years? 
How's one more doctor hanging over his shoulder 
gonna matter?"

"Plenty..you'll both be wearing the same fake smile." 
Dix said without a shred of humility, as Brent made 
his goodbyes to the stationhouse gang and accepted 
their profuse thanks for doing what he was about to do.

Captain Stanley leaned back, lacing his fingers behind
his head and wondered when the sparks were 
going to ignite into a big fire between the Brackett
docs once again. He hope Brent's little appearance
in Kel's operating ward wouldn't prove to be a new 
catalyst for another fiery father son feud.

Dixie didn't appear overtly alarmed. She simply
reached for the nearly empty coffee pot on the table
contentedly and poured herself a cup.

That cup went right into Joe Early's hands when the
silver haired doctor showed up into the nurses lounge.

Gage said, "How's he doing?" Johnny asked Joe
immediately before the man had taken even one
sip.

"Thanks Dix. I need the pick me up. Fine Johnny.. 
His vitals are still stable. Kel's almost through with
the exploratory. We had no problems intubating
Chet after he was put under, if that's what you 
want to know. His air passages were very clear
Johnny."

Gage nodded, sorry that he was so transparent.
"Thanks doc. His earlier wheezing was kinda scary."

"That's the funny thing about anhydrous ammonia.
It either really really does a number on you, or
it let's you off lightly after a really good scare. In Chet's
case, he got the all bluff end of the spectrum. There's
no retinal damage or even corneal abrasions. No 
chance of that blinding you guys were all fearing during
the rescue.."

Mike Stoker said. "Good. Last thing we need is Chet
Kelly banging around the station with a sight cane
while he cooks fifteen alarm chow for us every night."

The whole gang laughed at the image.

Joe even chortled.

 

Roy asked about their other victims from the accident.
"How about the woman we brought in, Daphne? She
doing ok?"

"Same story as Chet, minus the internal injuries.
She'll stay the night and'll be discharged in the morning
if her lungs stay clear. Nice fast action Johnny on
ending that laryngeal spasm then." Dr. Early said.

"I didn't do anything. The hose team got a good
pocket of air around us and she resolved on her own."

"Lucky. She could have been that close to triggering 
a tracheal collapse reflex when her larynx cramped 
like that." Joe said, holding out miniscule fingers in the 
air.

"I know.. you could have knocked me over with
a stick when she started breathing again after I
got a good lifting grip on her throat." Gage admitted.
"I remembered at the last second that gas inhalation
reacted the same way as a liquid water drowning
with spasming like that. I almost forgot how effective
the technique was."

"Who taught you that move?" Cap asked. "That
was pretty slick considering there wasn't much else
you could do for her, wearing your SCBA mask like
that.."

"Dr. Brackett."
"Dr. Brackett." Roy and John both replied in stereo.

Dr. Early grinned. "I take it Brent was in here a while
ago."

"How'd you know?" Dix said in surprise.

"They said their answer too fast, Dix, dead give away."

"Oh.."

A loud stomach rumble permeated the air. From
Marco.. "Lo ciento.. All that running made me hungry."

"Time for a pizza run.. My treat.." Joe said.
He got on the phone to dietary, shushing them
all into silence,  before the gang's active protests 
stopped him. "Consider it part of your followup
ammonia gas treatment.." he quipped.

"Thanks doc, we owe you one.." Cap grinned.

Cap and the others literally inhaled the four pizzas 
while Dix and Joe merely nibbled.

The pizza pans had been tossed onto the dish cart
for only about thirty seconds when the wait for 
news about Chet grew once again intolerable.

All eyes started watching the clock and the house
phone for word from Dr. Brent Brackett's
sticking his nose in where it didn't belong.

***************************************
From : "patti keiper" <pattik1@hotmail.com>  
Subject :[EmergencyTheaterLive] Of Mice and Men..  
Date : Thu, 12 Dec 2002 21:31:07 +0000  
 
Kel Brackett didn't even look up from his 
surgical field when he felt a presence at his 
shoulder. He knew right away that it was his 
father in the blue scrubs near him. "Doctor Brackett." 
he said simply and as neutrally as he could. 
Kel could feel his cheek twitching under his mask. 
But inwardly, he told himself once again in his
thoughts.::I did ask dad to see what I do 
for my living.:: he sighed. ::I just have to get
used to him taking advantage of the invite, hook
line and sinker.::

Brent Brackett knew how to observe
in a sterile ward. His ungloved hands were behind
his back and he stayed behind Kel at half an arm's 
length. "Before you say anything.. I...only stepped 
in here solely on behalf of the boys who work with 
this young fellow. They're milking this anhydrous 
exposure checkup requirement to the max and 
they're all still here, crowded in the nurse's 
break lounge. Joe Early had to feed them because 
they wouldn't even leave the staff paging phone 
unattended long enough to grab a tray from 
the cafeteria, fearful they'd miss hearing from 
you."

Dr. Brackett wasn't beneath trying to shock his
father. "The resection on the mediastinal aspect 
of Chet's spleen is a straight forward repair job. 
See for yourself.." and he intentionally sprayed
his running tube of sterile saline wash over the 
area, not caring that a part of its red tinged spray 
splashed up, catching his father's mask and his
scrub top liberally as it plumed upwards when the 
older man didn't anticipate stepping back at the
sound like all the others around the table did.

Brent flinched but then blinked, wondering if the
dousing had been a ploy to drive him away, but he 
was already more than determined to remain. 
He cleared his throat and said loud enough for all 
in the room to hear.
"Oops. Good thing gore has never bothered me. 
Please, show me what you've done so far, doctor. 
I'm all eyes." he said, hiding any trace of negative 
emotion from his voice. Brent surprised himself when
his own temper, didn't flare up at all. 

Nonetheless, a well informed, Dixie enlightened tech 
hastily suctioned away the water for Kel from Chet's 
abdominal cavity almost a little too fast. Kel had to 
hold Chet's spleen down with his forceps so it 
wouldn't plug her tube's port as she used it.

Kel glanced at her reflexively but the woman's 
face stayed looking down at what she was doing.
For her benefit, Kel said. "Sorry about that, I'll
slow down." Dr. Brackett half wondered if there
was anyone on the staff who didn't know about
the Brackett family friction. And he quickly began
feeling like an *ss for what he had done. 
::Dixie's thorough on the grapevine, I'll give 
her that. About as thorough as she is running triage. 
Everyone around us is walking on egg shells. 
That's gonna change..:: he vowed. ::Now.::
he said. He was glad for his mask when it hid
the rising red of embarrassment in his face.
He decided to show the entire room that Dixie's
tale about them was now completely baseless.
"Dad, look here. This is where Chet's fall impacted
against his spleen. See that mark? You can almost
make out lettering from the regulator valve he fell 
on top of. He must have been wearing a SCBA bottle 
when he fell and that metal piece on the harness
was what cut him internally."

"Hmm. I see it." Brent mumbled.
"Looks sort of like the artifacts that show up on chest
x-rays sometimes from drivers impacting
their sternums against the steering wheel column?"
Brent asked. Then he chuckled. "Saw a Chrysler 
logo chevron once on one from a patient of 
mine. That young man now hangs that 
x-ray on his wall." He sighed accepting a cotton wad
from a nurse gratefully so he could mop up his 
gory face. "He now shows it to all of his dates 
and tells them it's his secret tattoo that can even
be felt, for a kiss."

"Yeah? Well Chet won't be left with any such girl magnet.
This tissue isn't bone. It will heal cleanly in a few days, 
leaving no traces. Chet's external skin bruising will 
stay longer than this laceration."
Kel said, snipping off his last internal suture stitch.
"There," he said, "Good as new.." Kel dabbed the
spleen with gauze until Brent could see his work.

"Bowels clear? And the intestines?" Brent asked,
peering closer.

"Completely. All of Chet's internal bleeding came
from this site alone. The spleen's the body's
repository for whole blood so it's not surprising
this tiny tear hemorrhaged so much. The anti
shock trousers did a good job stopping it as
you saw on the films."

"So I did.." Brent said. "So, what should I tell
the fireboys?"

"That it was a piece of cake, doctor. Chet's no 
longer in jeopardy."

"Will do." and he nodded and winked to the nervous
tech across from them. Then he turned to his
surgeon son. "Coffee after you close?"

"Wouldn't miss it." Kel said. 
 
"Then I'll leave you all to your work.." Brent
Brackett leaned down to Chet. He saw 
the young fireman's eyes had been ointmented
and protectively taped shut and he carefully stayed
away from where the anesthesiologist was listening
to Chet's breathing through the endotrach
tube with a stethoscope. He spoke firmly into Kelly's 
ear. "Looks good son. Almost done. Wake up fast 
cause your friends are still hanging around 
to see you. My guess is that it won't be good 
for them later if your dispatcher has to order 
them back to the stationhouse. Oh, and Joe Early 
just told me they've saved some pizza for you." 
he said, patting Chet's sheet covered shoulder. 
"So hurry up son, before someone gets hungry 
again and it disappears."

Everyone around the table laughed when Chet's
stomach took that moment to start growling.
It was very audible as it and the organs around
it were still exposed to the air.

"That got through my anesthesia?" the man at
Chet's head joked. "Usually I have people's 
plumbing napping soundly during splenectomies."

"Yeah well this fireman's appetite is legendary, Dale. 
Don't feel bad. I hear Johnny complaining about his 
donut stealing prowess all the time." Kel shook his 
head ruefully, amused. "Dad, I know of a better 
way to wake him up if you're interested. 
Grab Johnny's walkie talkie. I'll have Doctor
Riley here on the respirator play him his station's
alarm tones after he's extubated." he joked.

"Aren't you the creative one.." Brent teased back,
just before the surgical bay doors closed between
them. "But I think I'll pass on that. Positive 
reinforcement works so much better than shock 
tactics.." he replied.

Brackett immediately regretted his little stunt with
splashing the sterile wash. Internally, Kel accepted Brent's
hidden admonishment. ::I deserved that. Now
why am I still acting like such a pig? This unspoken feud
between us is being addressed. What am I afraid
of?::

Inside his head, another voice of conscience spoke
up. ::Losing your mother because of it.::

-----------------------------------------------

Brent Brackett was still wet from his shower
when he dialed the nurses lounge. 

The phone rang, making the whole gang jump
in their seats as way too much coffee in their
systems made them overreact.

Then the babble in the room ceased when no one
moved to intercept the phone. Marco, Stoker, Johnny
and Roy all hushed up in tension, like frightened rabbits
when it was the red phone and not the black one
that was paging them.

Dixie MacCall answered the phone. "Nurse's lounge,
Dixie McCall speaking.."

Brent greeted her. "Miss McCall? Put Mr. Kelly's
captain on. I wanna speak with him directly. And 
before you ask. All things went well. Both my
visit and with Chester's exploratory. His spleen's
intact. Didn't need to be removed. So hop to,
woman."

Dixie hid her smile even from her eyes as she
handed over the phone. "Captain Stanley.
You're needed here."

"Oh, boy. Hope it's not McConnike for playing hooky.
He never goes through public HT channels when he's
really mad at somebody." Cap said, leaping off the
lounge couch and wiping nervous palms on
his turnout.

Dixie couldn't help herself. She said, "Relax captain.
It's not him. Remember, I'm your solid alibi here for
all of you staying at Rampart even if the chief does call.
I already have my speech planned out."
and she broke into a reasoning voice, sugar coated with
Dixie no nonsense. "I'll just say, 'Chief, It's a little busy
today, and that's why it's taking longer than usual to
examine all of your men. ' when the time comes."

"Glad somebody's prepared for that call."
Hank sighed, and rose, taking the phone from her.
"This is Fireman Stanley." with more than just
slight apprehension.

Brent grinned."Go home, captain. Chet's already
being sent to recovery. His spleen was only
holed, not grossly ruptured. It was all just minor 
surgery."

Cap excitedly spread the good news to his listeners 
out of ear shot.

Brent heard the cheers and had to take the phone
away from his ear for a moment but then he shouted
before Hank hung up again. "Captain Stanley, one thing.
Hand that to-go box full of pizza to Dixie for her to 
take to his room or Chet's gonna personally kill ya."

"Huh?"

"Subliminal suggestion, Captain. Works everytime.
I told him it would be waiting."

"Gotcha, doc. She heard ya. Thanks, Dr. Brackett, 
for everything. We really appreciate it."

"That's why I'm a psychologist, son. Take care." 
and Brent hung up the phone.
 
*****************************
From : "SM Fortis" <satchie51@hotmail.com>  
Subject :  [EmergencyTheaterLive] Hello?  
Date : Thu, 12 Dec 2002 23:15:18 -0600 
 

Silently cursing himself as he entered the elevator,
Kel punched the button for the ground floor.  What
was he thinking when he invited his father to
spend time with him at work?  Did he possess
a bizarre need to validate his sense of self-
worth?  Was he trying to dazzle him with his
diagnostic and surgical abilities?  After all
these years, did Brent Brackett’s opinion still
matter?

Upon reaching his destination, Kel approached
his office with grim determination.  With greater
force than was necessary, he flung the door open.
Brent sat in one of the leather-upholstered chairs
in front of the imposing desk.  Pasting a smile on
his face, Kel addressed his father.

"Hey, Dad.  Are you ready to head to the Doctor's
Lounge?"

Brent shrugged his shoulders.  "In a minute.  I
thought we could talk first."

The younger Brackett nervously laughed.  "You
sound like a typical shrink.  You guys always
want to talk."

"Spoken like a true surgeon.  Always wanting to
plunge right into things."

"Dad.."

"It’s okay," Brent said.  "Obviously we each
have our own talents."

An uncomfortable silence ensued.  Feeling like
a world-class jerk for his behavior earlier, Kel
cleared his throat.  "Dad, I’m sorry for that
little stunt in the OR.  It was immature and
uncalled for.  You just caught me off guard,
that’s all."

"I know.  But when you invited me to watch you
work, you didn’t plan on me ambushing you either."

"I did assume it would be under more controlled
circumstances," Kel admitted.

Leaning back in his chair, Brent said, "I had an
opportunity to speak with a couple of your biggest
fans this evening."

"Oh?"

"The paramedics that work with the firefighter
you operated on.  I believe their names were Roy
and Johnny?"

Kel smiled broadly.  "They were one of the first
teams I trained.  I wasn’t a huge supporter of
the program initially.  Oh, to be honest, I was
vehemently against it.  I thought it was dangerous
and essentially amounted to practicing medicine
without a license.  But eventually I came around
and became one of the program’s staunchest defenders.
We cleared some substantial legislative hurdles and
funding crises, and now I can’t imagine how we managed
pre-hospital care without our paramedics."

"They were quite effusive in their praise,"
Brent commented.  "You certainly have earned
their respect.  You’re more than a mentor to these
men."

Suddenly embarrassed, Kel joked, "Well, perhaps
they may not feel so charitable when it’s time
for their annual performance evaluations."

"Seriously, Kel.  That says a great deal about
your character.  I would be immensely flattered
if someone thought that highly of me."

"But Dad, you’re well respected in your field."

"It’s not the same," Brent lamented.  "So what
if I’ve published extensively?  Other than
impressing a handful of snobbish colleagues
and adding a few lines to my Curriculum Vitae,
I haven’t accomplished anything of lasting
significance."

Kel rubbed his temple.  First there was the
strange confession in the restaurant, and now
there was a melancholy tone to his father’s last
remark.  This was proving to be an interesting
evening.

Staring at the carefully arranged bookcase, Brent
continued.  "Based on the hospital grapevine, I
expected you to be arrogant and overbearing, and
thought your employees would cower in your presence.
Instead, I discovered you’re merely passionate
about your life’s calling.  In retrospect, I can
see your career choice wasn’t an act of parental
defiance.  This is what you were meant to do."

"I can’t imagine doing anything else, Dad.  I
feel complete here."

"Yes, I can see that now."

Resting his elbows on his desk, Kel asked, "Dad?
Don’t you think we need to forgive ourselves
too?"

Brent raised a questioning eyebrow.  "What?"

"Don’t get me wrong.  Forgiving each other is
a significant step in the right direction in
putting our relationship back on track, but it
isn’t going to help if we’re consumed with guilt
over past offenses."

The elder Brackett buried his face in his hands.
"That’s easier said than done.  You don’t have
a constant reminder of your mistakes."

"I don’t understand," Kel said.

"Your mother isn’t the same person anymore.
She blames me for tearing her family apart.
Scarcely a day goes by that I’m not reminded
of my failures as a father.  You have no idea
what it’s like to go home every day, knowing
your presence is barely tolerated."

"So when you moved to Los Angeles."

"I was not only trying to reestablish communi-
cation with you, I was trying to save my marriage,"
Brent finished.

"Wow," Kel exclaimed.  "I had no idea.  Mom
always sounds okay when I talk to her."

"Of course, she would," Brent snorted.
"You’re her precious baby, even if you are
forty-two years old.  She still wants to protect
you from all of the unpleasant things in life."

"Oh, man.  I really messed up, didn’t I?  I
must have broken her heart when I left home."

"She was pretty upset with both of us," Brent
pointedly added.  "You’re not entirely at fault."

Kel was furious with himself.  He was so anxious
to escape his domineering father, he never
considered the effect his departure would have
on this mother.  During telephone conversations,
she always sounded so cheerful.  Now it was
apparent because of the power struggle between
the two men, his mom had been cruelly deprived
of the most cherished relationships in her life.

"Do you think she’ll ever be able to forgive
me?" Kel asked earnestly.

"Hah!  You’re completely blameless as far as
she’s concerned.  I’m the heartless ..well, you
get the idea."

"That’s not fair.  It was ultimately my decision.
I could have handled the situation better," Kel
reasoned.

"Hindsight is always crystal clear, son," Brent
replied.  "At the time, you were so blinded by
your contempt for me, I doubt you could have
arrived at any other solution.  Besides, as much
as I hate to admit, I was relieved to see you go.
After years of yelling and screaming, I looked
forward to having some quiet time with your mother."

The younger man attempted a feeble grin.  "I assume
that was a case of be careful of what you wish for?"

"Absolutely.  Your mother didn’t speak to me for
weeks.  The situation deteriorated to the point
where we separated for a couple of months."

"You’re kidding!"  As Kel looked across his desk,
he realized the man sitting opposite him was a
stranger.  It was difficult to comprehend this
was someone he once shared his dreams and aspirations
with.  Was it his imagination, or did his father age
a little bit more each time he shared another
humbling personal secret?

"So how are you two doing now?" Kel inquired.

Running his fingers across his chin, Brent responded,
"We’re managing.  We’ve settled into a comfortable
routine here, and she’s made new friends.  But
hardly a day goes by that she doesn’t ask about
you.  She wants to know if I’ve seen you, do you
look well, how is your career doing that sort
of thing.  Mainly she wants to know why I haven’t
marched into your office and thrown myself at
your mercy."

Mentally evaluating the available floor space,
Kel said, "I don’t know, Dad.  Perhaps there’s a
spot over here where prostration might be an option."

A chuckle was heard from across the room.  "I’ve
groveled enough for one evening.  We’re overdue
for a cup of coffee."  As Brent rose from his
chair, Kel motioned for him to sit down.

"Wait a minute, Dad.  I want to make a phone
call."

"Can’t it wait until tomorrow?  It’s late."

"That’s the problem.  I’m hoping it’s not too
late," Kel explained.

Puzzled, Brent sat back down.  "Who are you
calling?"

"I want to call Mom."

"At this hour?"

Jolted to reality, Kel pushed the phone back
to the corner of his desk.  "You’re right.
I don’t know what got into me.  Besides, I don’t
even have the number on me."

Moved by the haunted expression in his son’s
eyes, Brent sighed.  "Do you have a pen?"

"No, she’s probably already in bed.  I’ll call
her later."

His father seized control of the phone and dialed
the familiar number.  Thrusting the receiver into
Kel’s hands, Brent quietly left the room.

With each ring, Kel’s heart rate accelerated.
His mouth felt incredibly dry.  Oh, this was
ridiculous, he thought.  He was a grown man
calling his own mother.  It wasn’t like he was
a gawky teenager asking the prom queen out for
a date!

The ringing stopped and was replaced by a gentle
voice.  Summoning his courage, Kel tentatively
said, "Mom?  It’s Kel....."

------------------------------------------
Doctor Brackett awoke in a sweat, and startled
awake in his hospital room. With a start, he realized
that it wasn't the first day of his emergency 
admission anymore. It was the last one, fully a week 
after he had collapsed in Dixie's administrative office
with a sky rocketting blood pressure. 

It had been only Roy DeSoto and Johnny Gage's fast,
careful care that had prevented a stroke in him, he knew.
::I was too high strung to calm myself down.  Now I'm living 
testimony to their still solid effectiveness as paramedics. :: he
decided. ::Glad they both made captain.::  

Sighing in relief that his dreams about his father had
only been a recap of what had once been, Kel sat up and 
tested his physical strength out yet again in his legs and feet.

No tubes of any kind stuck out of his body. ::Good 
riddance. I was getting tired of those.:: Kel thought,
realizing once again that he was already in his street clothes, 
waiting for his ride home. ::I wonder when Dad's coming?
It can't be too long now. And I wonder what he's got planned for
me this time?:: he thought.

Brackett smiled when he realized that the worst of both of his
situations, lay behind him.

----------------------------------------------------------

Photo:  Kel speaking to his father at his bedside.

Photo:  Brent Brackett, smiling hugely from a bed.

Photo:  Joe and Kel watching surgery being performed.

Photo:  A man undergoing surgery while Kel and Joe look on.

Photo:  Dixie leaning over a hospital bed.

Photo:  A sweaty Kel, sleeping, in close up.

Photo:  Silhouette of a fishing boat on a sunset still lake. 

Photo: Roy and Johnny smiling gently at the station.
 

**************************************************
Subject: Like Father Like...? 
From: Erin James <etlhostej@voyagerliveaction.com> 
Sent: Tue 4/15/08 3:16 AM 
 
Brent was soon at the door with a smile on his face from 
ear to ear. "Hi, Kel." Brent smiled. "Are you ready to go?"

Kel winked at Dixie, who was standing patiently with
the customary discharge wheelchair. 

Kel said, "Been ready since Wednesday."

"Okay, All-better-boy. Get in." McCall teased. She
was slightly surprised that Kel didn't fuss about it.

Brackett ignored her suspicion. "Whose car are we taking?"

Brent replied, "We're taking my truck. It's got the most 
room, remember?" 

Kel smiled, "Sure. That's right. I forgot. Sorry." he
winced.

Dixie narrowed her eyes.

Brent and Kel saw the better part of wisdom and kept
silent for the trip out to the patient pick-up entrance.

"You are going to relax..." Dixie warned.

"Of course." Brackett grinned widely.
"Would we lie to you .. of all people?" Brent blinked 
innocently as both men spoke at the same time.

Just as quickly, Kel escaped Dixie's wheelchair.

Kel and Brent hastily loaded their gear into the 
copper colored truck. There wasn't much of it, and 
the truck still had plenty of room just in case they 
needed it for anything else. Kel finished stashing his 
duffle and he said, "I'll be right back, dad. I'm going to grab
my water.. I forgot it in the--"

Dixie held up his bottle of spring water that she had put
into her pocket. "Looking for this?" she said, waving it
before his eyes.
 
Brent nodded, "Yes, he was. We're gonna need it for
his Sphagonium.." the elder Brackett said, taking it from
her playful hand.  "Here, Kel. Water it if you wouldn't mind."

"His what?" McCall asked.

"The get-well plant I got him from the gift store.. See?"
said Brent.. and he reached into the back load hauler
and pulled out a blue foil wrapped large tropical leaved
plant. Almost startling, he used his other hand to swiftly
cover up the fishing poles that had become exposed
from the wind where the tie down tarp had slipped before
Dixie's prying eyes could see them. Neatly, he jumped into 
the driver's seat, as Kel got in, who was shaking out the 
excess water he had poured into the plant's potting soil. 

"Ready?" asked Kel.

Brent grinned broadly, "Yep."

"Do nothing!" Dixie hollered out as they pulled away.

"We'll do nothing....." Brent said, calling after her.

"....much!" said Kel, mischieviously added.

They left behind Dixie's mortified, I-was-fooled expression
behind in the darkness of dusky sunset.
 
-----------------------------------------------------

Brent pulled onto the freeway and headed for their 
destination. Brent was quiet, which concerned Kel. 
"Dad, is everything okay?"

Brent quickly recovered, "Everything's fine, Kel.
Just a bit whipped from the week at work."

Kel sighed, "I hear that. Why don't we trade spots
now that Dixie's not here. Then you can lay back and 
catch a few zzzz's. It'll be a bit before we get to our 
destination."

Brent stifled a yawn. "Sounds good. Wake me up if 
you need anything."

Kel smiled, "I will, dad." 

Soon, the truck was silent except for Brent's soft snoring. 
Kel kept a close eye on the road, his senses heightened 
as usual when he was out in traffic.

Two hours north of Torrance, Kel pulled off the
paved road on to a dirt one. The change in 
terrain woke Brent who had been sleeping sound. 
It took a minute for the elder Brackett to regain
his bearings before he asked, "Where are we?"

Kel smiled, "Almost there, dad." 

Brent woke up more and took in the scenery. He was 
stunned silent. Minutes after Kel pulled off the 
paved road, he stopped. In front of him was a lake
shore. Around the car on the other side, was a small 
clearing, in a grove of pine trees. Kel shut the car 
off, turned to his dad and said, "Dad, we're here."

Brent was stunned as the duo climbed out of the truck.
"K-Kel, this is amazing. This isn't where I thought we'd be."

Kel just grinned, "Glad you like it, dad."

Brent smiled, "I don't just like it, I love it!" 

The sun was already long gone as father and son unloaded
the truck. Kel said, "Hey dad, do you want to just eat 
what we brought tonight and hit the lake in the morning?"

Brent looked around appreciably before he answered, 
"Yeah that's probably best. That'll save battery power
on the outboard's running lights."

Kel and Brent went to work making a fire outside
the cabin Kel had reserved and the two started cooking 
dinner. In no time flat, they had eaten Dinty Moore stew 
and were headed for the sack. Both were fatigued
from the trip in and all their sneaky planning to get
away from Dixie's clutches.  

--------------------------------------------------------

Kel was awake the next morning before his father. He 
quickly set to work making breakfast and packing the 
boat for the day on the lake. Brent awoke to the smell
of brewing coffee and a freshly made meal.

Kel smiled as his dad finally exited the porch. "Good 
morning, dad."

Brent blinked to adjust his eyes to the light. "Morning
Kel, sleep well?"

"Yeah, you?"

"Some of the best sleep I've had in quite a while."

"Better than mine has been for the last week. The beds
at the hospital are atrocious. Breakfast is ready."

"Aren't they made that way to hurry up recovery periods?"

"Most likely.." Kel laughed. "Go ahead and crush my ego.
I thought my patients got well fast because of my skill
in medicine."

"It's in combination.." the elder Brackett finessed.
Brent smiled as Kel handed him a fresh cup of coffee. 
"Thanks. It smells good. What are we having?" 

"Eggs and bacon with this coffee chaser." 

Brent smiled, "Sounds wonderful. But isn't coffee off
your menu now?"

"Shhhh.." said Kel. "How can I get a pressure spike
surrounded by all of this? It's a tranquilizer just being
outside.."

As the duo ate, Brent finally asked the question that 
had been bugging him since the day before, "Kel, how
did you find this spot?"

Kel smiled warmly, "Honestly, dad. One of my friends, 
Captain John Gage found it for me. Not long after he 
was promoted, he dragged me up here after a really 
h*llish week. Then I came back up here after mom died
last year to get my head back on straight before I went
back to work. We're in Santa Rosa County."

The mention of Kel's mother and Brent's late wife quieted 
them down some but both shook the feeling off. Breakfast
and cleanup was peaceful as they woke the rest of the
way up. Once all was in order and put back away, Kel asked, 
"Ready to hit the lake?"

Brent smiled, "You bet. We've a lot of hours to make up."
he said, peering at the sun rising over the trees.

"About twenty years worth by my reckoning." Kel grinned.

Both doctors met eye to eye and a moment of unspoken
deep devotion passed between them. The first in a very, 
very long time. The older Brackett held out his hand to
help the still tired Kel over a large root on the path.
"Shall we get started then, son?"

"Sounds good to me, old man."  his son winked.

Brent laughed out loud. "Let's go!" beamed Kel.

-------------------------------------------------------

Kel had already loaded the gear in the boat along with a
small cooler of sandwiches and soft drinks. Father and son 
headed down to the lake. In minutes, the boat was 
launched and the new fishing day had begun. 

Brent asked, "Kel, how are you feeling?"

Kel knew his dad was still worried after his 
hypertension scare. "I'm good. I took my 
medication like a good pre-senior citizen 
and I'm ready for a day on the lake and hopefully 
I'm also gonna bag a lot of fish."

Brent looked Kel in the eye and smiling softly, he said, 
"You will."

Kel and Brent made their way to the middle of the lake and
threw out the anchor. Once their lines were baited and 
in the water, it was time to just sit back, relax and talk.

Only distant muted birdsong, the lulling melody of rippling waves
and the scent of warming pine needles filled the air.

A brief, slightly awkward moment intruded over them before Kel 
looked at his father with a complex expression. "Dad..."

Brent softened quickly, "Yeah Kel?"

Kel's voice softened, "Thank you."

Brent was stunned, "For what?"

"For coming out here with me. We've needed to do this for so long.
Then I got sick and I got to thinking about things. I actually 
didn't know if we'd ever get the chance to do this again."

"Come on, Kel. You weren't dying."

"Sure felt like it. I felt like WE were, dad. Our relationship. And
I'm glad we decided to change that."

Brent squeezed Kel's arm, "You're welcome, my boy. You're
the only son I've got and we're the only family we have left. 
Each other."

Kel burst out laughing. "That's until Dixie joins the fray.."

Brent went goggle eyed. "You didn't."

"Not yet. But I'm going to."

"Good. She's sassy, foxy, and I know she's got what it takes
to keep you in line. A woman's touch. That was my mistake when
I tried to do the same thing while you were growing up..."

Kel's smile faded.

"Can you ever forgive me?" Brent said, not looking away from his
bobber. Brent's breath caught in his throat.  
 
Brent's words tore at Kel's heart. He hadn't realized how much 
his own mortality had worried his father. "Dad, I never meant to 
make you worry. And let me make another confession. I've known 
for years that everybody was telling me I needed to slow down and 
take it easy. Especially after I went from the emergency room to 
the head of cardiology. I never listened until my own body
said that's it either rest or I'm going to quit on you."

Brent's voice cracked at Kel's words. "Kel, I lost my best friend 
because HER body quit on her, I know I wouldn't be able
to handle your death, too. A son should never die before his
father.. Especially not like his mother did."

Father and son grew quiet as each got lost in memories of Anna 
Rose, the now lost, third side to their private trio for over a year. 

As one, both looked up to the sky and each whispered a few words 
to Anna. As they finished, the sun brightened even more and lit up
a flurry of snowy pinion feathers on a soaring eagle, who began 
sounding a single fluting cry as he greeted the dawn.

-----------------------------------------------------------------

Kel took a deep breath. He hoped he didn't open a very old
can of worms with his next question, but it had been weighing 
on his mind for far too long to go unasked. 

Brent relaxed and looked over at Kel, his face still filled with delight
at the sight of the tiercel wheeling overhead. Immediately, 
he could tell something heavy was on his son's mind. "What is it, 
Kel?"

::Here goes nothing:: thought Kel as he asked, "Can I ask you 
something that was bugging me while I was in the hospital?"

Brent became immediately concerned and completely focused on Kel.
"Of course son, go ahead and ask anything, always..." he licked
his lips, controlling old habits. "What's on your mind?" he finally asked
simply, without the abrasiveness of old.

::Hopefully he takes this well so I don't end up swimming back to 
shore:: was the next thought that crossed Kel's mind, "Why did you 
want me to follow you into psychiatry? You never did explain that to me. 
I remember how we fought tooth and nail about that for way too long, 
but what I never understood.... was why."

Brent was stunned by Kel's question. Then he was saddened when he 
realized that Kel was right ::My boy wants a straight answer that he 
deserves that. Not just professional to professional, but as father to 
son.:: 

Brent looked Kel in the eye. Before he could answer the question 
though, both lines tightened up at once. The heavy question was 
quickly interrupted by the shouts of "I've got mine!" that echoed 
completely across the lake as they wrestled their catches into the 
boat. A sleek pair of speckled brownies danced on the metal, 
drumming out their anger inside the hastily cast net.  

The rest of the day was just ..like.. that. Each time Brent would go to 
answer Kel's question, the fishing lines would get busy.

As the sun when down over lake, the question still hung in the air. 
Kel wanted to know the answer, but then both became refocused on 
future days' dinner whenever one tried to escape from the gill leader
cord they had floating in the water. Kel finally headed for the shoreline
when they couldn't take any more trout. He was about to speak 
when the anchor was fully aboard, but he held his tongue when he 
saw his father trying to fight off his emotions. 

Kel made it obvious that he had noticed and he said gently, "Dad, 
talk to me."

Brent looked up with pure pain in his eyes. Kel immediately shut the 
boat off roughly, two hundred yards from shore. He squeezed his dad's 
shoulder, but stayed silent. Brent was in the old, still fresh agony and 
Kel knew it, too, just as sharply.

Finally Brent spoke, with his voice full of emotion, "I...I miss her, 
Kel. I miss her every single day... And it's not fair. We fought off 
everything together. You, Anna Rose, and I, but we couldn't win 
that final fight."

Kel's rough exterior crumbled to the bottom of the boat as he bear 
hugged his father. Brent didn't resist the hug, but fell into it as 
he fought a long hidden, still losing battle with his emotions. Kel 
tightened his grip on his father's neck and he whispered, "I miss 
her, too, dad. I miss her every minute. But I know she'll be there ..
when I finally get off my butt, and propose to Dixie.  But what I 
wouldn't give to hear her voice again when I finally call you to tell
you when the official day is when Dixie and I begin our new 
lives together."

Brent now spoke through tears, "She'll be thrilled son. 
She always did love Dixie. But I know one other thing."

Kel picked his head up, but kept the grip on his dad. "What's that?"

Brent smiled through the tears, "No matter how much neither of us 
wants to admit it, she was the top boss of us all and she still is. 
We've got to take care of each other or your mom's gonna give us a 
heaping load of cr*p when we see her again."

Kel chuckled as he wiped his moist eyes, "You've got that so right."

Brent chuckled as he calmed down. "Getting hungry yet?"

Kel smiled lightly, "After burning off all this energy on sappy emotional
stuff? What are you trying to get at? Convincing me to be a lawyer again?"

"That was just an inside joke. Everybody knows lawyers aren't heroic
about anything."

"And doctors are?"

"As psychiatrists aren't.... That's my point. Back then. And now. You're
something special, son. Never forget that."

Brent smiled, "How 'bout us city boys get ourselves in long enough
to go fry some fish. Then afterwards, we can hit the sack if we get
tired."

Kel's smile brightened, "Do you feel tired?" 

"No. I feel alive. I think, for the first time in my life."

They finished the trip to shore.

The night went on with dinner and then lights out, without that earlier 
annoyingly interrupted question, being answered. Kel really wanted to 
know it. 

On the other side of the fire and the Brackett fence, Brent didn't quite 
know how he was going to give his answer to his newly aging son.

-------------------------------------------------------------------------
The next morning was time to head home. Father and son laughed and 
joked anew as they packed the pickup. The cooler was full of the catch 
they hadn't eaten all of from dinner, the night before. 

Kel and Brent took in a few last deep breaths of fresh pine pitched
air, and headed out. 

The truck tire-rocked Brent to sleep as Kel drove. Kel glanced at his 
father and smiled....and was jolted when a screeching of tires ahead 
of them billowed clouds of stinking burning rubber when a nail blew 
open the driver's rear tire on the car a few lengths ahead of them.

They watched in horror as the small blue Pinto careened into a bush.

Kel slammed on his brakes and followed its path onto the margin.

"Dad! Call in for help from that call box. I'm gonna go check them
out!" Kel said, running for the other car with a kit in hand.

Brent made the call, reporting what they had seen.

A minute later, Kel returned, dusty, but smiling ruefully.
"They're okay. Shaken but in one piece. Nobody hurt."
Then he noticed his father's complexion.
 "Dad, you okay?"

Brent was stunned, "I'm fine, Kel. Wow. That could have
been bad."

Kel smiled, "Yep. Man, I forgot the rush you get when you 
think you're gonna have to use your emergency medicine 
on scene."

Brent took a quick breath and thought ::Here it goes.:: 
"Kel, you remember the question you asked me yesterday that 
I never got to answer because the lake started jumping?"

Kel took a quick breath unsure of what his dad was getting 
at. "Yeah dad, I asked you why you wanted me to follow you 
into psychiatry."

Brent took another breath, "To be honest son, I've been 
trying to answer that question myself for quite a while. 
I always dreamed of the two of us having a practice 
together, so I was thrilled when you wanted to get into 
medicine. I was floored when you got into Johns Hopkins,
but then as you know, I got angry as a beehive when you 
told me you were going into general and emergency 
medicine." 

Kel said quietly, "Uh,..I know you were, dad. That's all old hat."

Brent looked at out of the corner of his eye at Kel. Kel 
turned to face his dad when he felt his gaze as Brent 
spoke. "Kel, please. Just hear me out. I...I've come to
realize over the past day and night, that I was... probably 
being a selfish, ignorant windbag back then." 

Kel was caught off guard, "Oh?"

Brent continued, "I still wanted to have a practice with you, 
but just now, after watching you in action a few minutes ago, 
I realize you definitely went into the right field for you. I don't 
know many people who could do what you just did without 
a second thought for their own safety. I mean you stopped 
and were already halfway out the door before you even 
asked me to call the dispatcher's." 

Kel blushed to his toes. "Dad, it was instinct. Even 
though I now work most of the time upstairs, my heart is 
always going to be with emergency medicine and the 
paramedic program I started a decade ago. To think I 
almost put the kabash on the program in the beginning...
Each day, I realize that there is an ever growing need for 
it. I've even come up with a new line of rescuers. Have
I ever explained what an EMT is to you?"

Brent smiled warmly as he closed the lid
on the call box. "Your heart's in the right place, Kel.
Don't let anybody ever tell you different even 
if it IS me." 

Kel smiled warmly as he realized his father really
had finally come to terms with his chosen field and
his heart's passion.

Brent shut their truck off. "Now, Doctor Brackett.. Go take 
care of your almost-patients."

Kel turned to Brent, "Thanks, dad." Kel smiled, "On my
way, Doctor Brackett. But, eh, I'm sure they could
use the comforting hand of a shrink just now. They did
suffer a shock or two emotionally."

"Quite right."

Kel got out of the truck and was followed back to the
steaming car by his father. Brent watched proudly as Kel 
jumped into his work, making sure no injuries were cropping 
up.

Brent looked up at the trill of an eagle's call and thought to 
himself ::Anna Rose, I know you always said it, and I realize 
now that you were right all along. Kel never belonged upstairs 
with me, he belonged right in the middle of the chaos of an 
emergency room or out here in the street helping others. 
Remember that I love him like I love you.... Always::

Brent cut through the brush to go pluck a screaming toddler
out of his automatically functioning mother's hands. "Give me
the little guy, ma'am. I know just how to handle sons."

"You sure do, dad. You sure do." Kel whispered, smiling.

---------------------------------------------------------------

Photo:  The cabin from On Golden Pond.

Photo:  A lake lit up with a dawn glow.

Photo:  A bright rainbow colored trout on the grass.

Photo:  Two boated fishermen awash in the light of a 
             red sunset on a still lake.

Photo:  Trout frying in a pan.
 
***************************************************
Subject: Let The Games Begin!!!
Date: Now
From: Patti and Erin ETL Hosts USA

Roy, Johnny and Hank liked visiting so much in the
impromptu way they had worked the system, that
they decided to do it again, right after the next
captain’s meeting, which ironically, had been 
held at Station 51’s.

"How’s Kel Brackett doing?" asked Hank, when all
the other captains and his own regular men had left.

"He’s been discharged. No problems." Roy sighed
with relief. "But Dixie’s real mad for some reason
about it and neither Johnny nor I can fathom the
reason why." 

Gage just started chortling. "I know why. They’re 
fighting again. Just like we figured a long time ago."

"What makes you think that?" DeSoto said, 
getting on the defensive. "Just because two
people are effianced doesn’t mean they’re
immune to having disagreements anymore..." 
Roy said in exasperation.

"Well, why not?" Gage asked. "They love each
other, don’t they?"

Roy started to say something, but then he just
threw up his hands. "Hank, you’re a married man, too.
Why don’t YOU tell him..."

"Don’t look at me. I’m out of this one for my continued
sanity’s sake."

Both Roy and Gage sighed in frustration, irritated.

Cap just raised his eyebrows and shrugged, long
immune to the effects of his old crewmates’
manipulations.

Tired of the silence, Johnny looked up and saw a lone 
deck of cards laying on the far end of the table.

Johnny smiled, "Hey, Cap."

Hank smiled at Johnny’s use of his nickname. "Yeah, 
pal?"

Johnny eyed the deck of cards, "You guys still play?"

Hank and Roy both looked up and followed Johnny’s line 
of sight. Hank grinned, "Actually, yeah, we do Johnny."

Roy chuckled, "What, Captain Junior? Did you finally 
figure out how to win without dish pan hands?"

Johnny laughed, "Nah, Captain Pally, I was just remembering 
an old call we went on."

Roy looked surprised, "Oh no! You don’t mean that 
idiot M.I. who didn’t want to go into the hospital until 
you agreed to play that poker hand for him, do you?"

Amused, Hank sat back remembering the aftermath of 
that call, but curious to hear more about it since
it had been a paramedic squad only call. "I just remember 
what little I read on your very short incident report. Can 
you guys fill me in?"

Roy and Johnny smiled. Roy spoke first, "I’ll 
start and then let Johnny finish since I wasn’t 
there for the end of it."

Hank smiled, "Okay."

Roy said, "We got called out to a possible heart
attack. When we got there we found this group of
guys that had been playing poker all night. The 
one guy was not looking good at all. We worked
him up and he needed to go to the hospital. And
he actually fought with us about that, ... like a kid 
fights with the dentist."

Hank chuckled. 

Johnny picked up with a far away look in his eyes. 
"The only way the guy would go in, was 
if one of us played the end of his hand for him. 
I knew he needed to be at Rampart so I... volunteered."
he said, looking for all the world like a jogger who just
ate a fly.

Hank couldn’t bite back a comment, "Gage, I know 
your history with poker here. Why did you go and do 
a stupid thing like that?" he asked, rolling his eyes.

Roy chuckled. 

Johnny blushed to his toes, "Cap, the guy had to go in. 
He was gray and throwing off PVC’s faster than.. well, 
faster than anything. I thought I might have better 
luck for him since none of those there knew me at all."

Hank coughed on a sip of coffee and waved the guys 
off, trying not to laugh. Roy was biting back one, too, as 
Johnny continued, oblivous to his friends’ actions as he fidgeted
with the deck of playing cards in his hand.

"Anyway, " Johnny muttered distastefully. "I sat down and was 
under the impression this guy had a decent hand or something, 
because of the way he was fighting to leave so hard, so I grinned. 
Man, was I wrong! He had a pile of garbage bigger than I EVER 
had here, and I was stuck with my promise to that guy. I couldn’t 
fold." 

Gage suffered an immediately flashback to the game
and suddenly it was back to the moment it happened.

-----------------------------------------------------------------------

Johnny sat down at the table and looked at the cards
he picked up. ::Oh my G*d, this hand smells worse than 
Chet’s cooking. I did this to save somebody’s life?! If he
doesn’t kill me later on for messin’ up, these guys will now!::

His eyes wandered over the money and chip pile and
in his head, he began adding up everybody’s ante’ed 
dollar amounts. ::Holy cow! Seventy hundred five dollars 
are in the pot?!::

The bet came around to Johnny. He limped into the pot
with the minimum bet. Johnny’s face reflected pure
professionalism even though the alarmist part of
his weaker brain knew that he was in deep trouble.

The dealer chain smoking to his left said, "I call."

Everybody at the table flipped over their cards. Johnny
had to fight to keep his jaw from dropping. The guy had 
bluffed seriously. On his right, the guy had ten high. 
Across the table the guy had king high. The dealer had 
queen high. Johnny was stunned, he held ace high. Only
just.

And by doing nothing, he had managed to win the 
night long covetted pot.

Gage tried very hard to keep the rest of his body from
shaking as badly as his hands were doing.

The rest of the table grumbled when they realized their 
dear departed friend had bluffed them out of some major 
bucks. The thick black framed eyeglassed dealer voiced 
everybody’s opinion. "I don’t eff-ing believe it. That little 
sh*t was actually bluffing us for the first time ever!"

Johnny stood as the guy across from him gaped. "He didn’t 
just bluff you, he took you to school. I’m calling the game
for today. I can’t play any more. By the law, I can’t accept
or lose any cash. Besides, I’m on duty..." Gage grinned 
lopsidedly.

The others nodded, quite respectfully.

Right then, Marco sailed into the house. "Johnny, they’re gone, 
ready to go? I got the squad idling." he said, tipping his helmet up.

"Yeah, I’m ready." he hollered back. "Go wait in the cab for me a sec!"

Johnny smiled apologetically. "Sorry guys, gotta go." he said, 
grabbing his HT, helmet and turnout. "Uh, .. who’s gonna save
the goods?" he asked, indicating the money he hadn’t touched.

"I will. I’m his banker. He trusts me with his life." said another
player, who was rising from the table and putting on his hat.

"No, he actually trusts my partner today, who’s saving his..
...heh." Gage said, unable to resist the temptation.

The dealer said, "Hey, man. We’re not arguing. Listen, Mickey’s
gonna give him his money. You guys go take care of his heart.
We’ll take care of the rest of this game and take Bradley
to the cleaners the NEXT time we get together." he said, 
sounding for all the world like a gangster.

Gage didn’t wait around to find out whether or not there
was a gun in somebody’s lap that was getting its safety
cocked back into place. He bailed. 

Johnny nodded as cordially as he could, grabbed the 
rest of the gear Roy had deemed non critical, and said, 
"Yes, sir." Clearing his hands to cover his butt, Johnny made 
tracks out of the room.

------------------------------------------------------------

Hank and Roy had to catch each other to keep from falling out
of their chairs for laughing so hard. When they regained 
the ability to speak, Roy spoke first. "You told me he was 
bluffing, but I didn’t realize it was that bad. That’s 
insane."

"Hey, I didn’t deal the cards. I just played them and hoped I 
wouldn’t lose my shirt." Johnny scoffed. "Or my life’s blood.
Literally." he said seriously.

Hank chuckled. "Hey, pal, maybe you should play more 
hands like that at other mafia houses. You might have 
better luck at the games here." 

Johnny scowled.

Roy’s mirth tearing eyes caught the very worn red USC sticker 
affixed on the top of the TV set in the corner, that was miraculously, 
somehow, still working. "Speaking of games we should of had 
better luck with..." and he began to point. 

Johnny spun around and followed Roy’s sight line until he, too, 
saw the familiar sports emblem. He coughed on his drink. "Oh man, 
that thing? I’ve been tortured with not knowing THAT answer for
six whole years now.. Geez.."

Hank had a rough idea what his former paramedics were talking about
but he wanted to make sure. "Boys, are you remembering that debacle 
that you guys suffered when you worked the big Stanford Cardinals 
game all day but never learned who won?"

Roy and Johnny groaned as they turned back to Hank. Johnny 
replied, "The one and the same, Cap."

Hank blinked for several seconds, and commented, "I felt bad 
for you guys about that."

Roy said, "Thanks, Cap." He began to gesture gimme hands, but
Stanley seemed not to understand his drift.

Hank smirked, "Yeah, that’s right." he sighed, leaning back into
his armchair. "When we watched it, I was wondering if you guys 
were going to come back in one piece. Gage that tackle you
took must have smarted something fierce, didn’t it?"

The trio got a far away look in their eyes as they remembered 
back to the game that nobody got to see the end of.

-------------------------------------------------------------------
Johnny turned to Roy, "Man, partner, can you believe our luck? The 
one game we end up working this year is the biggest one around."

Roy grinned, "No, I can’t , Johnny. I’ve been looking forward to 
this game since they announced the schedule for the Trojans."

The guys grabbed some basic gear from the squad, locked it up
and headed for the Coliseum. Johnny looked around at the 
growing crowd and commented, "You weren’t the only one, Pally.
Man, would you look at this crowd? There must be ten thousand
people here."

Roy looked around and then mumbled, "At least. Let’s just hope 
they play nice so we can enjoy the game, too." 

The boys checked in and were excited to learn they were going
to spend the first half on the field, the second they would 
trade with another squad and head for the stands. They 
were stunned when they found out that not only were on the 
field, they were on the fifty yard line. The two couldn’t
wipe the grins off of their faces as they headed for their
posting.

After the pre-game colors ceremony, the boys settled in
for the rest of the day. They cheered right along with the crowd, 
but were always on alert in case something happened that
wasn’t caught by spotters in the announcer’s booth for on 
the field or either sideline. 

Just before half time, the away team quarterback handed off to his
running back. Johnny and Roy had moved to standing on the 
team bench to see better once some of the bigger lineman 
started standing in their way. 

The new vantage point provided them with a better view, 
but proved that it had absolutely no stability to it, at all. The 
running back headed toward the out of bounds, blinded by
the sun, with a head full of steam. The Stanford safety 
bowled into the running back and set him flying even deeper
into the out of play zone.

Roy yelled, "Watch it!..." but he was cut off before
he could say more as the two players plowed into their
bench. The force of the impact sent the guys and 
the players toppling over each other into one big
flailing heap. 

The players quickly sprang off of the paramedic, murmuring
apologies. Johnny sat up first. "Hey, Roy, you okay?"

Roy sat up and brushed himself off. "Yeah, Johnny, 
you?"

Johnny stood up and smiled, "Yeah, although I’d
rather fly in a plane than off a bench."

Roy groaned at Johnny’s humor as he got back to his 
feet. The rest of their medical calls for the first half 
proved to be steady, but satisfying. Every once in
a while Roy and Johnny would catch a bit of the crowd’s
enthusiasm over a hot play or two.

-----------------------------------------------------

But the big game’s second half, kept the boys futilely 
hoping, and deep in the stands. 

The game was getting closer and more tense and energetic 
as it neared the end. And neither sunburned fireman 
wanted to even mention getting a call so they didn’t jinx 
themselves. 

With less than three minutes left, the score was 21-20
home advantage. Suddenly, their HT called them out to
a possible cardiac, in their own crowd medical monitor 
booth. 

The boys swiftly booked through the stands and cared 
for their male patient. And later, as they loaded the 
sick announcer into the ambulance, Johnny took a look back 
toward the roaring stadium. ::I wonder if we’ll get back 
here today in time for the outcome?::

----------------------------------------------------
The sports reverie faded out and everything righted
itself back to present day station 51.

Hank asked, "Did you guys get to see the end of the 
game?"

Roy shook his head, "Nope, Cap..."

Johnny cut Roy off, "The place looked like a ghost 
town by the time we got back. We never did find out 
who won either."

Hank grinned slyly, "I know who did..." he dangled.
"I read about it a few months after the fact."

Johnny and Roy’s jaws dropped. Johnny said, "Out
with it, Cap, we’ve waited long enough."

Hank’s grin grew, "Stanford held on, 21-20, but it was
a real nail biter of a heart attack, no pun intended of
course."

Roy and Johnny grinned as Johnny drummed his 
fingers on the table. "So we DID see what mattered
in the end. Good deal!"

The guys refilled their drinks for a fourth consecutive
time. Hank commented as they sat back down, "Boys, 
I wish I could get us all back together every week. This 
has been truly awesome."

Roy smiled, "Hey, Cap, how ’bout my place this weekend?
We haven’t gotten our old group together since..."

Roy’s voice dropped off and his smile faded quickly. 

Everybody knew right then, the reason for the downward
change in mood. And nobody wanted to revisit that past
with any relish. Sighing, the captains pushed away their
coffee mugs without lifting them again, and entered pain.

----------------------------------------------------------------------------

Photo:  Johnny doing the dishes in an apron in the kitchen.

Photo:  Cap grinning in amusement from a chair.

Photo:  Johnny caring for a sick man, lying down, nose to nose.

Photo:  Gage frowning at playing cards in his hand.

Photo:  Roy and Johnny looking up and pointing into the sky.

Photo:  The guys at a football game, ecstatic.

Photo:  Johnny shouting, Who won?! across an empty stadium.

***************************************************
From: patti keiper <pattik1@hotmail.com> 
Date: Thu Apr 17, 2008 8:57 pm 
Subject: The Dark, and The Light 


"That day started happily enough, didn't it?" Gage asked,
his eyes filling.

"It sure did. That was also the day that basket of Boot's get was
handed over by that angry house owner. Wasn't it only a couple 
of hours then before she arrived, too?" Roy recalled.

"Yeah. Who can ever forget Felicia.." Cap smiled gently as
all of them drifted away into her still sharp memory..

 
***************************************************
From :  Roxy Dee <laterrapincabesa@hotmail.com> 
Sent :  Thursday, December 21, 2006 12:49 AM 
Subject :  Puppies and Partners~~ 

(From Episode Forty, Canine Capers )

Chet Kelly's mouth dropped open when he found the cause of all
the scratching they had been hearing echoing through the vehicle
bay off and on all morning. "Say, Cap. You're not gonna believe this."

"I'm not gonna believe what?" Hank hollered from inside his office. "Did you
set those d*mn*d mouse traps like I asked you to, yet? I don't want those
nasty germ ridden vermin to get anywhere near those pups of Roy's. Got it?"

"I'm afraid you're going to have to come out here and see the cause of
all the noise for yourself, Cap."

There was a hasty rustle of paper and a firm bang from a hastily hung up
phone receiver before Hank finally joined Kelly and the rest of the gang by
the back garage door, now auto-retracted open.

Cap skidded to a halt half way across the open floor where the squad
usually parked. "How'd they get here? I- I.. I thought Bonnie was with
her real owner and Boot was still holed up at 110's."

Henry woofed a sudden greeting as he trucked out the kitchen door
to greet the two "old" newcomers to what was now his fire station.

Boot and Bonnie gleefully began to chase him, recognizing his
current king-ship with an all out play feint, darting around and around 
the gang's legs, and wildly dashing in and out under the Ward fire engine.

"Hey, knock it off all you hairy, four-legged twits. You'll wake the puppies!"
Hank roared.

All three dogs screeched to a halt, and regarded Cap's face with surprise.

Then their mouths fell into happy grins and they made an immediate 
beeline for the bunkroom, with Henry leading the way, to where the 
basket of dalmation puppies was being kept inside Henry's doghouse.

"Oh no, no..  no..  no..  no!" hollered Cap in a vain attempt to stop them.

"Cap, let em go. They're all fire dogs. They know better than to wake 
sleeping babies, don't they?" Marco asked.

Hank ran a hand through his hair in irritation. "Let's just hope you're 
right, Lopez. Last thing I need is a pack of overexcited puppies running 
around the station, piddling all over the place."

"Yeah, aren't we glad we've got just the concrete and tile flooring." 
Chet quipped.

Hank nailed him with a glare. "For that you've got puppy bottle 
feeding and their latrine detail until the pound gets here to take them
away for Adoption Day on Friday." he fumed.

"Hey, take it easy. I'll do it. I'll do it. Geesh, what is there about today 
to get all worked up about? It's not like we've had any engine calls
yet to go on this morning." Kelly groused.

"You want to know why I'm all worked up? I'll tell you why I'm all worked
up. Your ever loving crewmates just agreed to Wish host a little girl at the
station for a week so she can learn enough to write a final semester
report for her fifth grade class about firemen lifesavers. That's why.."

Stoker, Marco and Kelly all went thoughtful. Then...

"Cool." said Stoker.

"She'll be someone nice for all the dogs to play with. And the puppies, too."
said Marco.

"Right on, man. She's more than welcome here. I'll hang the privacy curtains
myself." declared Chet. "When's she coming?"

"She's on her way right now." Cap said, all of the hot air leaking out of
his sails in the face of his men's open and honest enthusiasm for the added
complication to their day to day routine. Then he sneezed. Hard.
"OhHHhh. Not again." he grimaced, snatching a hand up to his face quickly to
catch a trickle from an active bloody nose.

Mike whipped out a handerchief and handed it to Hank. "Did you forget to 
use the Vaseline Roy and Johnny left out for you last night to coat your 
sinuses from all the dry winter air, Cap?" 

"Yes. I had a ton of paper work to do last night and this morning." Hank
grumbled. He coughed wetly when blood finally worked its way back and 
into his throat. "I don't have time for this.." he sputtered. 

The guys led him over to the radio receiving alcove and over to 
the garbage can resting there under the writing shelf.

"Spit it out. I'll go get some ice." said Kelly. " Then sit down on the 
bench. Stoker went to grab more dressings so we can pack 
you off on that side before you drip out onto your uniform."

Kelly ran off and disappeared into the kitchen. The engineer began 
digging through the engine compartments for their road side first aid 
kit.

Cap sighed, watching him, and then he sat dutifully. He began leaning 
forward to clear out his mouth into the garbage can they had given him.

He was still sitting there when the front doors opened to admit the 
squad, Roy, Johnny and a tiny new passenger sitting in between them.

"She's here already. Ah, isn't she a little darling." said Marco, rising from 
where he had been crouching next to Cap. "Well, hello there little miss. 
Welcome to Station 51. What's your name? Como te llama?" he asked.
 
***************************************************
From: "Patti" <pattik1@hotmail.com> 
Date: Thu Dec 21, 2006 11:09 am 
Subject: The Angelic Act.. 

The girl before Marco was pale, but she smiled like the sun only
an instant after he did. "Am I really here?" she asked excitedly,
brushing long wavy curls out of her tom boy like face. Her eyes
were brown and she seemed to be of half Italian descent.

Johnny Gage, seated next to her, took off his helmet and hung
it on the hook behind him in the cab. "Yep. You sure are. And 
your mother's right behind us. She went to go park your station 
wagon in the back." said Johnny, getting out of his side of the 
squad. 

The petite girl frowned briefly and made a small face of disappointment.

Roy clarified matters. "Don't worry. Your ma'll only be here for a little
while to sign some permission papers. Then it'll be just seven of us, 
for a week, like we promised." He wiggled fingers to get the girl's 
attention in order to help her climb across the middle seat into his 
arms for a lift down. "And this handsome gentleman fireman addressing 
you.. is Mr. Marco Lopez."

"Hola, Marco. I'm afraid my spanish isn't so good yet. But I keep trying."
she said, accepting Marco's greeting handshake.

Lopez chuckled. "That's all right. I can give you a few handy pointers 
over tacos. You like those? That's what's for lunch in about fifteen 
minutes." he offered.

"Thanks, Marco. I like tacos. I'm Felicia. I'm sorry I can't tell you my 
last name. Mom says only the captain gets to know that. And any doctors, 
if I gotta go see some for another tune up while I'm here. Thank you 
everybody for granting my Wish. Don't worry. I'm an A student. I promise 
I'll write a really, really good report and I won't say anything bad. I can't if 
I want to get to the sixth grade. I'll let you read it before I hand it in to my 
teacher, Mrs. Mulligan."

"Sounds like you have everything squared away except for putting down 
the actual words, Felicia." said Marco. 

"I've been thinking about what to say for a long time, but I know I need a 
little more time seeing how everybody here works at their job to get 
everything exactly right." said the little girl, touching the side flasher 
on the squad's door with undisguised curiosity.

A new voice piped up. "You've come to the right place. We're the 
busiest fire station around these parts." Mike Stoker slammed shut 
an engine door loudly and that was when the three of them noticed 
that he had a portable first aid kit in his hands. 

Johnny looked up, casting a glance around for the reason why. A few 
seconds later, they noticed a forlorn Cap parked on the wooden bench 
next to the soda machine by the large wall map near the office. "What 
happened to him?" Gage asked Marco, when he spotted the blood 
soaked cloth in Hank's hand as it sat over his nose.

Roy's eyebrows went up, too. "Did he lose a tug of war rope game with 
Henry or something?"

"Nah. He forgot to apply his schnoz lube last night." Stoker shrugged. 
"Things aren't too annoying yet. Chet's getting some ice for him to put 
on his forehead."

Felicia's mouth fell into an "O" of concern and she padded quickly across
the garage space to get to him. "Oh, I'm sorry." she said to Cap. "I get 
nose bleeds, too, on my bad days. Here, I know just how to handle them. 
Want me to help you with it?" she asked Hank. "I know just how to get them 
to stop. Fast." 

Cap's eyebrows furrowed into brief puzzlement before amusement began to
surface. "Be my guest." he told their young charge as he kicked the bloody
garbage can under the bench where she couldn't get too near it.

Felicia reached into her jeans pocket and pulled out a plastic sandwich 
bag which she put on like a glove to wear. Then she dug that thumb against 
the side of Cap's nose until it closed off just his one bleeding nostril. Then 
she used her free hand to hold and grip the back of his neck gently. "I'm 
going to squeeze a bit back here, ok?" she said, digging her fingers deeper 
into his thick curly hair.

"Sure..Anything you say." Hank told her, trying not to laugh out loud. He 
even leaned forward further so she could reach the back of his head even 
easier. Hank held still when she began to lightly massage the area where 
his skull met his neck bones. "Ughhff. Ow?" he said when he began to feel 
a tingling pressure under his skin and the tightening of muscles he
didn't even know he had somewhere deep inside his forehead.

"That means it's working." Felicia told him. "Only a little bit more." she told
him quietly. "My bleeds quit right away when I do this."

Roy and Johnny gathered around, pursing their mouths shut in growing 
amusement where they stood watching the whole affair as they both 
leaned against the side of the squad.

"Here you go, Cap." said a returned Chet a few seconds later, handing 
off the ice bag. He only hesitated briefly at the sight of the girl who was 
apparently effectively treating Cap. Hank took the bag from Kelly 
but he didn't use it. He let it stay dangling between his knees.

Felicia let go when Cap began to clench his eyes shut against the tingling.
"Ok. It's stopped." she told him, letting him go.

Cap instinctively brought the handkerchief up to his face again but the 
strong trickling didn't return. He breathed in experimentally. "There's not
even a clot inside." he told the paramedics. "Thanks miss. Wow, I feel like
a new man." he said, standing back up onto his feet. 

Roy and Johnny's eyes grew wide and they both briefly examined the truth
of what Cap reported with their probing penlights. "Really? The bleeding's
over?" Gage asked.

"Yep. Incredible. Usually these last a half an hour or more for me. How 
did you do that?" Cap asked the little girl.

"I just want people to get better. And then they just do." she shrugged.

Stoker smiled. "Sounds like Dixie at the hospital's been a big influence on
you."

"Oh, she has. But this is something I've always been able to do." said
Felicia.

"Then I'm very glad you got here. We wouldn't have had any fun at all if I
couldn't eat lunch because of my nose." Hank said, tweeking hers.  
He peeled the blood smeared bag off Felicia's hand and tossed it away into 
the waste can along with the unused ice bag. Then he shoved the whole 
mess into Chet's stomach. "Here, Kelly. Make yourself useful and go clean 
that up for me. I've got an introduction to make. Come on, miss. Let's go find 
a sink to wash off a bit first. Then let's go meet your mom for that necessary 
meeting before we chase her away for good. Are you ready for a lot of
company besides us? There are nine fire dogs hiding someplace around 
the station. And six of them... are puppies." he told her.

"Puppies? I like puppies almost as much as I love horses." Felicia crowed.

Gage cleared his throat.
"Yeah, well, we'll get your horse fix in sometime this week, too. And that
shopping spree on our off days. I've got a ranch and four mustangs just 
waiting around, bored, at home." said Johnny.

Felicia giggled and nodded eagerly at the suggestion. Then she
followed Cap politely into the locker room.

A woman who could only be the girl's mother came out of the kitchen 
where Marco had fetched her at a ring of the doorbell. "You think she'd
have chosen Disneyland or Universal Studios for her final fling at the
world." said the woman bravely. "But no, she wanted to stay in a firehouse
and shadow some paramedics whom she considers her heroes."

"Hello, ma'am." DeSoto and Gage greeted her. "We'll take good care of 
her. Dixie McCall's taking this time off to be able to stop by each day 
every few hours to make sure Felicia's vitals stay normal and that all of 
her medications are taken properly. Does your daughter have any dietary 
restrictions or other situations we should know about that might effect 
her ability to get up with us at all hours of the night when we get called 
out?"

"None that really matter at this point. She has no real physical restrictions, 
either. Her body tells her when to slow down. The first thing she'll do when
that happens is that she'll ask permission to quit whatever's she's doing 
long enough to go take a nap somewhere in the sun or under a warm
blanket. I'm just worried that she'll effect how you'll be able to carry out 
your normal jobs." said the sad, dimly haunted woman.

"We've got that covered." said Gage. "You see, we have a fireman who's
not actually one who drives a truck that's just like ours. His name's Charlie 
and he's one of our fire department's mechanics. He'll be chaparoning Felicia
at all of our response scenes, including watching over her and he'll keep 
her from the things that she shouldn't be observing as situations warrant. If 
you'd like, we can have Dixie ride along with the two of them, too, if that'll 
make you feel more comfortable. We won't be placing her in any danger. 
Not even in the slightest. For a fact, Dixie's the one who trained both of
us when we first started out in the paramedic program five years ago."

Felicia's mother shook her head. "I trust you. Please do whatever you
feel's best. For some background, Felicia's father was a....fire chaplain." 
she breathed deeply. "But he was killed in a freak car accident when 
Felicia was five. She was in the car with him. That's probably where she 
got the idea to want to go see the places where he lived his working life 
when he wasn't off duty and at home with us. Then.. when my daughter got 
sick a year later, I.... didn't know what to do to help her with that. Not 
until Dixie came to me last week and told us about the Foundation. Then 
everything just got miraculously clearer and clearer. And now we're here. 
I want to thank you for taking her in." said Felicia's mother seriously, but
then unbidden tears filled her eyes. She brushed them impatiently away.

"We're glad you came." said Johnny, taking her hand.

Roy smiled. "Did you know your daughter's real good with first aid?"

The mother's eyes remained clouded. "Umm, she was in the girl scouts once."

"Well, she helped out Cap a couple of minutes ago with an intriguing new
way to handle a nose bleed. Johnny and I were actually struck speechless
and I'll have to admit we were completely dumb founded with the results 
she ended up with."

The mother dropped her head. "Oh, her "healing." She been doing that 
since she was a baby. It doesn't matter if it's.... a skinned knee or a 
headache. When Felicia's around, everybody's pain and suffering seems 
to...just disappear. You know what I mean?"

"Yeah." said Johnny softly in awe. "We saw that."

The mother looked up with shining eyes when she saw Cap returning
from the bathroom with her daughter. "Some days, I think it's so 
entirely not fair that she'll never grow up to become a nurse or even a 
doctor. No, it seems like Felicia's one angel that G*d wants back to His 
side far, far earlier than most."
 
With a sharp honk, Charlie the mechanic's horn jarred them as it
sounded from the rear. Marco jogged over there, after showing Felicia 
the way to the kitchen as Cap went into the office with Felicia's mother, 
and popped open the doors for him. 

"Howdy, boys. Is she here yet? Boy am I ready for a day out on the
town with a beautiful young lady." Charlie said, polishing his fire 
department badge nervously. "Which way did she go?"

-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
In the present, Captain Gage chuckled. "Now wasn't Charlie the mechanic
a nervous wreck for no reason? I mean, Felicia was a perfect doll.
And she didn't misbehave at all with us using her illness as an excuse."

"There was something very special about her, even when she was scared."
Roy said thoughtfully.

"I remember." Johnny said, looking at Roy and trying not to choke up.

"What, uh, what are you guys referring to?" asked Hank.

"Let me tell you, Cap. She had.. such a wisdom about her ...that belied 
even her tender age." DeSoto said. "We talked about ..the unthinkable.
That should never happen to a child."

Roy shared his story of the moment his life had been re-galvanized.

****************************************************
From: Voyagerliveaction Staff <theaterhost@voyagerliveaction.com> 
Date: Wed, Jan 3rd, 2007. 6:00:00 pm 
Subject:  Spotty Situation   


"So what we were on was called a mass casualty incident?" asked
Felicia to Roy.

"Yep. And we didn't even know we had one until we actually looked into
that smashed car. It happens that way sometimes when you least expect it."

"Well, I think you did a nice job running it, even though Captain Stanley
hasn't told you that yet face to face. I thought I'd be the first to tell you 
that since it was my first one ever." she smiled with a derisive no 
nonsense nod.

"Thanks." said Gage, checking the copter's cabin out and resupplying
everything he had used on Mary's grandpa's previous flight from his
supply box he had received on landing. "You didn't do so bad yourself.
We were so surprised and so was Mr. Suder, when Mary started talking
again. How'd you convince her to open up again?"

"I knew she wanted to, so I told her by taking her hand that it was her 
choice. Everyone else she knows always orders her to talk before she's 
ever ready. She doesn't like that very much. She feels pressured." said 
Felicia.

"Wow, a budding psychologist, too. I'm impressed." Gage said, patting
the cot. "Wanna see what makes up one of these birds as far as patient
care? Come on, I'll give you a tour."

"Ok.. I...oh, " and Felicia sat back down again. "Sorry. I ....think I'm getting
a little tired on you." she sighed, gasping.

Roy's eyebrows raised. "Short of breath?"

Felicia finally nodded. 

"Huh, maybe it's our altitude." DeSoto guessed. "We are up kinda high."

"That's all right. Easy fix." Gage said. "Come over here and we'll 
have you to rights in a couple of minutes. We'll be done with ya long 
before we touch down so don't start freaking out on us." he said, 
patting the cot.

Felicia eyeballed DeSoto getting a hissing mask ready.

"Ohhh, not the O2 therapy thing....again. I thought I .....was 
doing great....all this week.. not needing it.." she puffed.

"Hey, You think I wasn't puffing today hacking that car apart? I
was you know. Look..." and Gage sucked in a few lungfuls on
the mask himself, filling his chest. Then he wove and faked a faint
on the caretaker's bench. "Whoa.. I think I took too much.." he
said, acting dizzy. "Roy, I think I'm kicking the big one..Uhhhhh."
And he fell over.  Then his eyes opened. "Here Felicia, your turn 
to take a hit." he said miraculously recovering. "I think I'm better." 
he told her.

Felicia cracked up, laughing so hard that she made the pulse
oximeter Roy slipped onto her finger bleep in warning. "Ok, but
just for a little while."

"That's cool." said Gage.

A few minutes later Felicia opened her eyes where she lay on
the made up cot. "Johnny, Roy? Can I ask you a personal question.
You..you don't have to answer it if you don't want to. I..wouldn't
want to make the two of you feel uncomfortable..but, I have to
ask this, since...you both see this happening alot...with other people."
she said, lacing her hands across her chest. She seemed very small
under the oxygen mask and for the first time, strangely vulnerable to
the two paramedics. It made something deep inside of them, vaguely
ache in a pang of emotions.

"You can ask us anything, Felicia. We're friends, aren't we?" Johnny
finally said, breaking the silence. He fussed with her hair and pulled
some strands out that were tangling the elastic strap of her oxygen
mask. Then without asking, he began to braid some pleats up one
side of her head. "Go ahead, we're both listening and we don't have
to share this with your ma if you don't want us to."

Felicia stared at the ceiling of the chopper and a faraway look filled
her eyes as she went someplace that only she understood in her mind.
"I want...to ask you...what it's like...to die." she said finally, meeting their
eyes with her own suddenly haunted ones.

Gage was taken aback and his mouth opened and closed many times,
but he found he couldn't speak.

"I think I can answer that for you, Felicia. But I don't know if it'll give you
the exact answers that you've probably been looking for all this time 
since you learned of your final diagnosis from your doctors... 
But I can try." DeSoto whispered. 

Wanting silence, Roy pulled the beeping pulse ox off Felicia's finger.
Then he rubbed his lips and crossed his arms together in front of him
in deep contemplation. "I...died once."

"How?"

"On a wire..." Roy answered softly, the distant look still shining in his
eyes. "I was dead enough that Johnny and a paramedic trainee found they
had to use CPR and a defibrillator on me in order to bring me back to life."

"Did it hurt?"

Roy's face twisted in memory. And doubt. "I'd be lying if I said it didn't. But
I wasn't in pain for long, Felicia. And soon, I was feeling..and seeing things
that I couldn't quite understand as actually relating to me in any way. But then
I felt... more than anything...that I've ever felt... in my entire life."

"What did you feel, Roy? Were you scared?"

"No, I wasn't scared. I knew my friends were there. Trying to help me
breathe. And awaken again." DeSoto said. "But...I- I remembered that
I felt so alone, while it was all happening.."
  
Felicia began to cry silently, silver tears glistening in the growing darkness
from the lights of the helicopter controls. But she didn't move. Nor did she
take away her tiny hands that were gripping Roy's tightly. 

Roy began to smile and his face began to dampen in new tears. 
"But then I felt surrounded by incredible joy, Felicia. It was endless. There
were people there.. that I knew... who had gone before I had. And the joy
was ....so deep, that I didn't want to leave it. But I knew it wasn't my time
to be there and so I left. I left the moment I felt the shock course through
my body and... then Karen said that I was breathing on my own again and
Johnny was saying something stupid like.. how's he doing? from somewhere
nearby. It...was weird.." Roy said, meeting Felicia's eyes. "Really weird.
But I can honestly tell you both, that if I were to have to die again.. I...don't 
think I would fear it. Not at all. For I think I was shown that... death is simply,
another change of life. A change that just takes us, somewhere else
and into another direction where we can continue to grow and learn..
and love.." he thought carefully.

"I think that answers my question very well. It fits what I think I've seen 
before at the hospital." the little girl said, drying her eyes. "Now I think I can
tell mom that I'm not afraid to die when my time finally does come." she 
whispered...

----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

It was three weeks later at the station house. Dixie McCall was happily
bringing the last dalmation pup to her new home when the guys finally 
asked the question.

"How's our little gal doing, Dixie? Is she still eating up the sight of
passing ambulances and fire engines?" Cap asked. "Every time we
see one ourselves, we think of her."

"Yeah, we sure do." said Marco.

Dixie's smile never quite went away, but it saddened measurably in
newly remembered heart pain. "I'm sorry to say this but uh,...Felicia
passed this morning boys, around nine a.m. or so. It was painless, 
according to her mother and Dr. Brackett." she sighed. "I was there."

The guys didn't know what to say, all they did was reach out and pet
the squirming restless puppy, like the nurse was doing, just to have
something to do with their hands.

Dixie McCall looked up and her eyes were shining brightly.
"Do you know.. that you boys were all she could talk about last night?"
Dixie sniffed, hugging the pup. "Her mother wanted me, uh.. to give you this.
It's her school paper. The one she said she wanted to write for her Wish."
she said, digging into her ample purse.

The gang was stunned silent until finally, Chet Kelly held out his hands.
"We..we're honored to have to this. Can... can.. are we allowed to read it?"

"Of course. That's what it's for, guys. So we can share the world through
Felicia's own eyes as she experienced it." 

With that softly said, Dixie left on silent shoes.

---------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
It was a long time before the gang decided where was the best place. They
finally chose the front driveway in front of the station. And before they 
turned to the first page, they called Charlie, to spend those moments looking 
through Felicia's eyes with him.

Charlie was nervous. They all were. And just about every fireman held
a dog in their laps where they all sat in a circle on the asphalt. Boot, Bonnie
and Henry, an ample belly or even just a tiny tail. It didn't matter. The dogs 
were suddenly needed pillows of support for the sharing to come. 

And come it did. 

In bright glowing colors and fresh ideas. Talk of the day spent with Johnny on
his ranch playing with the horses, and rich technical descriptions of the 
afternoon wasted playing paramedic with Henry as the patient on the couch.
Chet's water fight and Charlie's swim with the dalmation puppies. It was
all there. And it was happy. 

Something that the whole gang felt they couldn't possibly wish for as wanting 
anything more for fulfilling the dream of one tiny, unique little girl.
 
"Hey, you know what else?" burped Charlie from where they leaned on lawn 
chairs against the fire station garage as they digested ample pots of hot 
cocoa in memory of Felicia.

"Huh, what's that?" asked Gage.

"Do you know why them dogs of yours were acting so nuts today?"

"They weren't acting nuts today, Charlie. Nah..." said Gage, lying through
his teeth.

"Sure they were. You're lying and you know it. I seen the way all your
bunks don't got any pillows on them anymore. Ripped them up did theys?
Heheheheh. Wanna know why? And it wasn't because of no pithling earthquake.
I'll tell all of yous why. It was a total solar eclipse that happened, that's why."

"When? Today? Huh. And here I thought it was just a power fluctuation 
on the grid. This morning, right?" Cap sighed.

"Yep. It happened precisely around nine o'clock. On the dot."

Roy and Gage felt a shock at first and then a trickle of warmth, felt deep inside.
"Right when she died." murmured Johnny and Roy together, as one.

Charlie leaned forward. "What was that?"

"Oh, ...nothing,..nothing... So, what do we want to do today to honor Felicia's
life. Keep and name a pup after her?" Roy suggested.

"Nah. Not too original. We'll think of something. And it'll be something truly 
special." Chet said. "All we have to do is put our heads together and think
about it a bit."


Later that night, Johnny had a surprise visitor to his bunk. It was Bonnie.
"Heya girl, what are you doing up here with me? I thought you sleep
with Henry and Boot in Henry's house out back nowadays."

Bonnie just stood up on her haunches and whined delicately.

Understanding at once, Gage swept the tiny Yorkshire into his arms and
gave her a hug. "Yeah, I miss her, too." he whispered, kissing Bonnie's 
head softly. "Shhhh, it's ok. Yes, she's gone. Let's just try and go to sleep. 
Maybe we'll dream about her." he grinned.

Soon, ...they did.

----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
Captains Roy, Johnny and Hank worked quietly while they did
the dishes that were leftover from the donuts that had been served
out to everybody at the captains' meeting.  The mood in the kitchen
was bitter sweet, with memories of Felicia, the little Make A Wish child
occupying all of their thoughts. 

That's until Gage decided that enough was enough. "Say guys, if
anyone's got anything to say about teetering on the edge of death, 
it's me. Remember? *Hiiiisssss.*" he declared happily, mimicking the
sound of a rattlesnake attacking and striking out with his fingers.

"Don't remind us." Roy and Cap said together on one breath. "We've
covered that ground before.."

"Yeah, but it's so good in the telling..." Johnny began eagerly.

Just as he was about to spin into his snakebite mishap again for the 
millionth time, the tones went off.

*EEEeeeOhhhhOOOOOoooooo* ##Battalion Nine with 905 Wild.
Urban snake nest, also report of an abnormal odor. 1714 N. 
Wilmington. 1714 N. Wilmington. Cross street, Topanga. Time 
out: 16: 02.##

"What th--" Gage blurted out. "What kind of call is that?"

Hank started smiling. "The kind that captains check out. We can, you
know. Aren't you curious about it?"

"Well, sure but.."

"But nothing. Let's take the squad out there." Stanley said mischieviously.
"It's only a couple blocks away. Officially, we'll be making a house
inspection. For safety checks. If there's a broken window anywhere
we have to at least report it to the cops, right? And maybe check out
the furnace. Who knows, maybe the snakes snuffed out the pilot light
crawling around."

"That's stretching it a bit much, Cap. Don't you think?" Roy smirked.

"Maybe, but isn't that better than having a whole city block blow up in
a gas leak if we don't go look?"

DeSoto sighed in resignation.

Gage immediately got into the spirit of things. "Who's driving?"

"The first one who gets there." replied Hank, rocketting out of the
room. "And I want to worse than you!"

Of course Cap won with his lankier legs and longer stride. That's
what had made him win their Twister games, too, in the past. 

Roy looked at him from the center spot in the squad cab. "Are you
sure you remember how to drive one of these things?"

"Learned way back when I was still a boy, Roy." he chuckled. 
"Hang on."  

Stanley flipped on the bullhorn speaker as they sailed out of
the vehicle bay onto the boulevard. ##Gang, going on a courtesy
call to that last traffic on the radio. We'll be back in two if we
get one of our own.## he hollered, filling the open space of
the garage with his booming voice that echoed around like 
buckshot.

Several hands waved from the back yard baseball game going on 
in acknowledgement as Gage flipped the squad sirens on. Johnny 
laughed. "I'd be lying if I said I didn't miss doing this. Man, Roy, 
this is our own old rescue squad!" he said with a little kid grin 
on his face.

Roy did a double take at his old partner.
"Cap, maybe it's a good thing that Johnny ISN'T driving.... 
Thanks." DeSoto said, eyeing Gage up skeptically.

"Don't count your horses before they're out of the stable. I'm
well known these days for having a lead foot." Stanley smirked
as he put the pedal to the metal. Roy and Johnny's head smacked
against the back of the cab window as they accelerated into the
fast lane.

Gage grimaced, hanging on for dear life.
"You wouldn't happen to have our old helmets stashed away back
here anywhere, do you?" asked Johnny meekly.

"Fraid not." Cap said, still grinning as he crouched over
the steering wheel he was holding. "You guys are just gonna have
to do without for the sixty seconds it'll take getting there."

A minute later, they were there, meeting up with Vince. They
had beaten both Battalion Nine and the animal control unit's
response.

Cap got on their channel. "Squad 51. L.A., 905 Wild and B.T. 9,
we're on your scene for a safety check. Reporting back in three."

##Squad 51.## came back the triplicate reply.

As the squad's station number's captain, Cap got the skunk striped
helmet after a little tug of war wrestling match with the other two with 
him. Victoriously, he put it on and started up the lawn of the house.

Immediately, all three were forced professional, except for the idiot
grins on their faces. 

The joyful grins faded when there wasn't an answer to almost a
full minute of their most energetic knocking on the front door.

Cap snapped out his orders. "Roy, check the sides, Johnny, the back.
Something's definitely not right here and it has nothing to do with
a simple animal nuisance call."  He slid over on the porch to peer
into the windows. Vince joined him.

"Trouble?" asked the cop.

"Feels like it." Hank answered. "If nobody's actually home, who made 
the call?"

"It stinks.." agreed Howard.

"But it's not gas.." Johnny piped up from his place on the ground.
He was looking into a deep window well, buried in the thick shadow
of a eucalyptus tree. "Look.." he said pointing.

Roy, Cap and Vince actually recoiled when a movement scraping
across the well's gravel proved to be a ball of muscle-stiff, cold
rattlesnakes.

"Don't tell me, a winter hibernation hole?" Cap shivered.

"Yep." Gage said. "And the window's broken. Probably from
some kid poking at em with a stick earlier. They're all really
p*ss*d off down there."

Hank pulled Johnny to his feet, away from the hole. "Well, how
many do you think actually got into the basement?"

Johnny looked at him unhappily. "Probably all there was this
morning."

"That could be dozens. Or more.." Vince gasped.

"Now we know why the house owner called." Roy replied.
"Come on, let's find another way into the basement. That
somebody may be in medical trouble to go along with this 
huge pest problem if they went down there to find out how
bad things really were... and ran into them."

Gage set his mouth into a grim line. "That doesn't leave much 
time."

"Let's go.." Hank shouted.

Roy grabbed Stanley's arm through his fire jacket. "You calling
in reinforcements?"

"Not until we see an actual emergency. I'm not gonna waste
moving the grid for nothing." Hank said.

"That's what I would do." Johnny agreed.

"Me, too." said Roy, ironically.

"Spoken like a true captain." said Cap proudly. "Both of ya."
he quipped. Then he fell to the business at hand, scouting
around the house for a well lit and very sun heated way into
the basement inside.

Gage soon found a second window well around the corner of
the house next to a garden hose, and he nudged the pane below
open with a carefully placed toe once he found that no snakes
inhabited the pit. "Okay, guys. Lower me down." And he crawled
in head first. "Grab my feet!" Then he grunted. "Man, once again
I'm the only one skinny enough to fit through something. It's
not fair."

"Shut up. You get to save more people than us because of
that, don't you?" DeSoto snapped, hating the weight Gage 
had put onto his narrow bones invisibly.

Cap just laughed.

Vince shot back the perfect retort. "You'll feel real bad if all this effort
amounts to something. So have at it and stop all that grousing!"

Gage's heels dutifully disappeared into the window hole, 
and he landed with a crash on something old that they heard clearly.

"..I'm on the....*mmphhff* couch. It's musty.. Or is that snake I'm smelling?
Oh, man.. I think I see something moving over there.." came his voice
miserably.

In the stark half bright sun lit, half pitch black hidden basement, Johnny's 
eyes got used to the dimness beyond.  His first step produced a chorus
of tail rattles. "Ah! Snakes!"  he yelled, whipping up his leg again.

"You okay, Johnny?" asked Roy.

Johnny sat back on the fusty spring popped couch, hugging his legs to
his chest, breathing hard. "..Y......Y......Yes..! ...For now.. There must
be a million of em!"

"See anybody else down there with ya?" Vince asked. He had thought 
ahead and grabbed a fire extinguisher and rope. "Cap, maybe this'll
offer him some protection."

"That it will." said Hank. Together, the three men tied it on snug and 
passed it down. 

"Gage! CO2 cylinder!" Cap shouted.

Its loud clanging broke Johnny out of his cold sweat. "What else have
you got?.. They're all over the floor! Every square inch of it." he hollered
back fearfully, getting mad at his own weakness of heart. 

Above, Hank started to smile. "I've got just the thing. A protege of Chet's
old club invented this last week to outdo Brice's club for innovation points.
Roy? Go look inside the rear compartment, in the stokes."

"What is it?" DeSoto asked.

"A bonafide snake hook."

Vince laughed. "Makes sense being in Southern California."

Soon, Johnny was handed the metal rod, too, along with an H.T.
"I don't know how to use one of these things!" he complained right
back.

"Better learn fast, we still have to do a search for the house owner
before we clear." Hank told him. "We'll coach ya.."

"That's what I'm afraid of..." mumbled Johnny, eyeing the surroundings
best he could.

"Here!" shouted Roy, dropping something else that bounced through
the window. Johnny startled badly and the flashlight landed on the tiles,
right into the middle of a ball of snakes, who hissed loudly and let out
more musk. 

Gage froze and began coughing at the stench. "Okay.. okay.. sorry!
Quit arrowing in on my heat signature. Please..I didn't do it.." he 
whispered.

Slowly, the snakes crawled away from the unfamiliar metal object which 
Gage soon hooked up into his lap. Turning it on, Johnny aimed
it into some darkness he couldn't yet see through.

His light beam landed on a pair of female legs, lying face down.

"Victim down here. Unconscious! Adult female! Breathing..." he
reported.

"Only the one?" Hank shouted back urgently while Vince got on
his radio to L.A. for more help.

Another torch sweep confirmed his finding.

"Yeah.." Johnny gasped, trying to get his nerve up to slide clumps
of snakes away from the path he wanted to take over to her using
the hook. "I can't tell how bad she is.."

"Gage, don't do anything rash. Your life's more important than--"
Hank started in.

"...anything but that doesn't mean a hoot if that lady dies on me, Cap."
Johnny finished in annoyance. "I know the risks."

There was a long pause from above. "....okay, pally. Just doing my
job."

"Yeah, well, let me do mine. She's not lookin so good."
Johnny said, in a softer voice over his radio.


Finally, Gage took that first step. And then another, each time, gingerly
nudging and sliding serpents away with the hook. Whenever a bunch
threatened to migrate towards him, in long scaley threads, 
he discouraged them with a blast from the extinguisher.

Soon, Johnny's fingers connected with the housewife's neck. He
found a strong beat at her carotid. "Good pulse. Maybe a faint only."
He reached down and hooked her tongue free from where it was
blocking the corner of her mouth. Her harsh breathing eased off.

"Good deal." said Hank. "Is she in immediate danger?"

Johnny looked around him and saw the circle of sun had moved
away from the wall and over himself and his victim. "Yeah, we
both are. We're the only source of heat now."

"Emergency evac!" shouted both Roy and Hank at the same time.

Hank nodded at Roy in agreement. "Use our rope to tie her off.
What sized airway, Johnny?"

"A six. She'll do with a Berman. But we can't just drag her out of
here. We'll both get bitten. They're surrounding us fast. They..
they're..." he began to stutter as an old fear, that first one, began
to seep back into his very soul.

"Easy there. Think, Johnny. You're a captain now. Think outside the 
bubble. You're better than you were before. Use what resources you've 
got. You can do it." encouraged Hank.

Slowly, the panic began to fade and so did his useless hyperventilations.

He caught the oral airway when it rolled in and he utilized it, double
checking to be sure the woman's breaths continued regularly afterwards.

A hulking bulk nearby glinted in the reflection of sunlight bouncing off
his borrowed Captain's helmet plate. It was silver. Gage shouted.

"Garbage can! Cap, A...gar-- I can catch em all...and put them i--"

"Terrific, pal. Yes, you go corral 'em. One by one. Just enough to
get yourselves out....okay?" Stanley encouraged. "Great idea. Way
to think on your feet."

"I'm not on my feet, Cap. This is bringing me to my knees."

"Not for long, Johnny. I know you. Now get her out so we can treat
her with oxygen before the ambulance gets here." Roy told him.
"Protect her with your jacket. Wrap her up after she's breathing 
secured. Even if they strike out, they won't get through it."

"Good idea."

"That's what I'm here for. I've always been your second half. 
Now get going." Roy said.

Gage slowly hook-reached for the first snake nearest the still woman.
"Ahhhh!" he cringed. Its heavy weight and angry rattle almost made
him drop it,... but then, it was over the garbage can.  

He shook it free of the rod,.. lightly....

Clang!! 

HHHhhhiiiiissSSSSS!! came the angry reply from inside the can.
The large serpent rapidly tried to reach up to the top but swiftly, Gage
chilled the outer top rim with a frozen blast of CO2 from the nozzle
and it immediately recoiled away from the frosted aluminum surface.

It settled down, trying to thaw its frozen tongue.

Johnny reached for the second snake.. and canned it. Just like the first.

Johnny's eyes began to unblur and some of the warmth began to return
to his hands and feet. Finally, his heart rate began to slow down.

Unbidden, came a whispered challenge of pure bravado from
between his lips. "Oh, yeah? So you all wanna sink some fangs into
somebody's legs do you? Come on, I dare any of you to try..." he 
growled, advancing like a seasoned handler in a pit of spitting cobras.

------------------------------------------------------------------------------
Later, much later, after a long shower at the station, Johnny had his
chance to gloat. "See? So I finally got my revenge. And after all these
years.." he said, still coming down from his adrenaline rush.

"Did you kill any of em?" Roy asked out of morbid curiosity.

"Didn't have to.." Gage told him. "We had to get her out first, 
remember? Glad she's gonna be okay."

"Helped that she didn't have any bites on her." Hank agreed.

"Glad we decided to go early. We made a difference.." Johnny said
happily.

Hank, infected, grinned right along with him. "Helper's high..."

Beside them, Roy didn't smile. In fact, he seemed lost to the
others in something unpleasant, or even... sad. Finally, he looked 
up and spoke what was on his mind. "Wish we could have made 
a difference for one other person, Johnny. Just one, for once..." 
DeSoto said, his eyes glistening in remembrance.

Hank found he couldn't speak and all eyes turned to the bulletin 
board where an old rusted can still hung, on a nail.

------------------------------------------------------

Photo:   A little girl caring for Cap's bloody nose.

Photo:   Cap looking grief stricken, in the kitchen.

Photo:   Gage lying in bed, wide awake and thoughtful.

Photo:   A dank basement.

Photo:   An aluminum garbage can in a basement.

Photo:   A snake handler with a hook and serpent.

Photo:   Gage, looking determined at night in a helmet.

Photo:   The gang looking amused, and sad at a memory.

Photo:   Chet, eyeing Gage in a heart to heart talk close up.

**************************************************
From: patti keiper <pattik1@hotmail.com> 
Date: Sat Apr 19, 2008 1:52 am 
Subject: Christened With Love.. 

Sploooosh!  went the water can as it triggered in the mop
closet. "Gage! Dang it all! This is my last shirt!" complained
Chet. "If I wasn't such a nice guy, I'd make you spend the 
money to dry ALL of them out for me...!" he growled and danced 
in half irritation and half admiration around the vehicle bay as he
ran the excess water off his curly head, shaking like a dog.

In the kitchen, Gage cupped an ear forward with a few fingers.
"Ooo, *tsk.tsk* Is that hot spot number four going off? Man,
and he walked into today with both eyes wide open.." Johnny
chuckled to Roy, who was clearing the table after breakfast.

"You mean you'd soak a guy on a morning as cold as this?"
DeSoto smiled.

"Sure. Why not? It builds character. And this is my big revenge
day for all the cans I ate." he said, hooking a thumb at his chest
empathetically. "It's not that bad outside. The sun's out and it's
clear as a bell."

"Thank G*d we don't have to suffer riding the Crown 
to calls any more." Hank said, carefully keeping expression 
neutral at the war playing out between his two men.

"Yeah, no open roof to worry about." Marco cracked up.

Roy studied Cap with a look that bordered on incredulity.
"You're letting them duke this out on purpose aren't you?"
he asked him.

"Why not? We all saw this day coming, didn't we? Besides,
a little water never hurt anybody. Maybe things'll settle down
now that Gage's has definitely proven himself to be the better 
bomber.." Stanley winked, animatedly turning to a new page 
in the newspaper.

Stoker sniggered from where he was doing dishes. "The 
three year war. Who'd figured that the final battle would play
out on a Monday of all days."

Johnny snorted.
"Of course. Because it's the first day of the work week, his guard
was down." Gage explained, still grinning like a banshee.
"Perfect day to get him by the throat..." he said, pantomiming
a neck twisting in his fingers.

"Easy there, pal. You don't want to kill him now, do you?"
asked Roy.

"Just that practical joke streak in him. I'm tired of always being
his easiest target..." Gage said, making a face. "So I'm finally
wise-ing up."

"It took this long?" Lopez quipped.

"Very funny." Johnny simped at him. "Chet's got a complex
and very devious mind. Took a while to figure him out."

"Okay, I'll give you that one." Marco admitted.

They all moused down as Chet emerged from the bay,
wrapped in yet another white shower towel in a vain attempt
to get the water dark wet staining out of his powder blue 
uniform shirt before the next call. 

Gage couldn't resist. "Isn't your first one dry yet?"

"It's still dewy outside! Thankyouverymuch. And the sun's 
not hot enough yet and with no wind..." Kelly told him. "But 
I gotta hand it to ya, I never saw this day coming. My hat's off 
to ya."

"Glad you liked it." Johnny said magnanimously.
"Does this mean you'll lay off now on the Phantom pranks?"

Chet fashioned innocent eyes, then started grinning like
a fox. "Maybe... Maybe not. This could be the start of
World War III."

"Now that ....would be interesting..." commented Hank,
not looking up from his column.

Both Chet and Johnny rounded on Stanley. "Aww, Cap.
How can you be the judge of anything? We can't target you
in any of this, or we pay for it." Gage moped.

"Yeah! That's right." agreed Kelly, standing side by side with 
Gage. They were in like poses of ire, with elbows on hips. 

"Privilege of rank, boys. Earn a pair of these and you, too,
can be immune.." Cap said, tugging on his collar trumpets.


The tones went off. Big ones. And Sam began detailing
a location and outlined a simple house fire on a lake.

"Ah,.." said Cap. "And those waited until after we were done
eating for once. Let's go. Chet, I'll order Stoker to drive
real fast with the windows down so you can--"

"Fat lot of good that'll do, I'll have my turnout coat on.."
Chet whined.

"Well...." said Hank, sweeping an I-offered gesture to the
air as they piled out to the trucks. "At least you'll be warm."

"But sticky!"

Gage started laughing as he put on his helmet in the squad.
"Ah, revenge is so sweet, and best served......cold." he remarked
to Roy once the doors were solidly closed.

"You're evil."

"No, just...calculated.."

"I'll give you that." DeSoto said as he took off onto the boulevard
with his lights and sirens on. "Chet'll probably be thanking ya
for the cool down once he's in the middle of all that hot fire."

----------------------------------------------------------------------------

It was two hours later, and the fire was quenched in short
order with two other stations. The lake home was a total
loss, including one brand new vehicle that had been in 
the ground level open shed. On the brighter side, Station 51
had determined very early on that no one had been inside.

Captain Stanley felt confident enough to turn loose the
other supporting stations, leaving the routine cleanup detail 
work that was still left to do, for his own men. "L.A., Engine 51.
This fire's out. Return all other units. Station 51 out one hour."

##Station 51, L.A.. Stations 8, 24.. Return.## replied L.A.

Already, the police had taped off the area to keep out 
prying eyes and curious kids, attracted by the fading odor
of char and ruin.  

Roy DeSoto hooked yet another roofing shingle over with his tool,
where it lay on the ground, so Johnny could hit it with a solid hose
drowning to snuff out the rest of its remaining embers. "So,
what do you think started the fire?" he asked Gage, still feeling
sooty and sweaty to the core.

"I don't know. Can't tell. It certainly wasn't the furnace. I mean 
we can see that..." he said, pointing an ashy glove to the blackened 
brand new unit sitting exposed through the black bones of the house
frame. He finally scratched his dirt streaked nose. "The cat maybe?"

Roy just smirked. "Anything goes. Guess this one's gonna have
to wait until the county investigators figure it out." 

Johnny grimaced, then pulled off his scba bottle that they no longer 
needed. "Man, this thing gets heavy after a while."

"No, sh*t." said Marco as he passed them by with another
hook and shovel, being followed by Stoker who was backing him
up with a charged hose. "Whydidja wait so long? I had mine off a
half hour ago."

"Quit being such a funny man. I was concentrating a little and lost 
track of time. Geez.." Gage groused after their backs.

Roy just chuckled, knowing that everybody was blowing off
some steam after the high tension of search and knock down.

The peaceful, bright blue morning soon was punctuated with
casual fire calls through their truck radios and the H.T.s 
they were wearing on their jackets. 

All was calm. Then their H.T.s crackled on private band.

##Say, Johnny. I wanted to thank ya for my multiple baths
this morning. I think I was finally clean behind the ears for
the first time in my life. Too bad they're grubby again. Maybe
we can go take a dip in the lake to wash off or something
next break..## said Chet.

Everybody dispersed inside and outside the house laughed
out loud.

Hank joined in the handy talkie banter good naturedly. ##You 
sure you want to do that? We don't know if that lake's fresh or 
brine yet.##

Gage added more, keying up a toggle. ##Yeah, you might 
get white stains from salt to go along with the black ones you 
already got.##

##Hey, because of you, I've got a serious penchant for water.##
Kelly shot back from where he was in the basement, with Hank.

##For wearing it or for spraying it out through a hose?## Johnny 
rejoined in high amusement from the yard.

##Neither.. I like aiming it at a major annoyance who happens to
have the initials J.G.## Chet retorted, after leaving his axe buried
in the heart of a still warm wall.

##Oh? J.G., huh?  Hey Roy, doesn't that mean junior grade as in
something that's inferior?## Gage replied back, leaning on a palm
tree as he took a slug of ice water from their relief canteen.

In the still enclosed burned out basement, Stanley tapped Chet
on the shoulder. "Take a break, pal. I'll spray this last into the wall.
Don't go far." he said, aiming a hose nozzle into the hole Chet had
made.

"I won't. Tell you what? I'll be sitting over on that stairwell just 
over there, floor middle. That's sunshine coming in from up top
and I wanna see some serious daylight again after all this smoke."

"Sounds good, pal." Hank replied. "Keep keying up so I know where
you are."

Chet gave him a thumbs up.

Gage's voice filtered in slyly and echoed through the basement.
##Oh, Chet.. guess what I got..##

Kelly immediately felt all of his pockets and immediately grumbled
when his gloves fell on the spot where his jacket haligan used to be.
He mouthed epithets silently and rolled his eyes. Out loud, he
commented to Cap. "He's got light fingers, too? Cap, I swear I
had it on me last trip out to the engine."

Hank starting laughing and held up both his gloves in an 
I'm-staying-out-of-it gesture after he had rolled up the last of
their hose.

Kelly sighed and toggled back. ##I might need that coming up.##

##For what? All the windows are already popped.## Johnny countered
neatly over the radio.

##You're enjoying yourself, aren't you?##

##Yep. Aren't you? We're top of the line firefighters. And we knocked 
this bad boy down fast, didn't we?## Gage evaded, with double meaning.
 ## I've got reason to celebrate. You should, too.##

Stanley nodded as he climbed back up the stairs and past Chet.
"I'll be right back. Gonna put this roll away. Keep your helmet on, pal. 
The carpeting above the ceiling still dripping. I wouldn't want
you to get wet." he quipped.

"Oh, knock it off, Cap. Not you, too." replied Chet. "Say, want my bottle
as long as you're going?"

"Yeah, gimme." said Hank, taking his yellow air tank along with his by the 
straps. He left the basement just as Chet got into it again with a little 
vehemence. He heard Kelly's scathing reply over his radio.

##Not this way. And don't hide it where I can't figure out where it is!##

##Come on, Chet. A fire engine isn't really all that big. Should only take
ya, fifteen minutes or so once we get back to the station to shake it out
to get your tool back.## Johnny taunted good naturedly. ##So what do
ya say? Are you gonna come out and say it finally? It's easy. Come on,
say it now. Johnny Gage is the better man.##

Up on the lawn, amid birdsong, Johnny waited for a reply back.
He frowned when suddenly only static returned to him. "Chet? How's
your battery power? I didn't quite hear that. Say again?"

Nothing returned. Chuckling, he turned to Roy. "He's giving me the 
silent treatment already. Come on, let's make amends by getting
them some of these drinking water bottles."

DeSoto nodded and set down his hose. He jogged after his partner
with six of them hooked over his shoulder.

They met Cap coming back from the engine. "What's the score,
Johnny? Sounded pretty even to me on the comebacks." Stanley
grinned.

Gage shook his head with a shrug. "Cap, where is he? I think his 
radio died on him and he doesn't know it yet."

Hank looked at his watch. "Yeah, it's been that long. I know where he
is, boys. On the stairs in the basement, right at the top. I just
left him."

Right then, their radios signaled a triple distress--automated only.
And the signature was Kelly's.

"Chet?!" Gage shouted, keying up his radio. Alarmed, the three
began running for the house just as the first floor caved in noisily.
"Oh, man. No!  No!" Johnny yelled, running faster.

Hank ran for the engine cab and called for emergency help. "Engine
51, L.A.. We've suffered a structural collapse. One man unaccounted
for. Personal beacon has been activated."

##10-4, Engine 51..## And L.A. summoned an urban rescue unit 
over another channel. The dispatcher returned. ##L.A., Engine 51.
USAR 1 reports an E.T.A of twenty five minutes. All other
units tied up.##

"What?!" Hank said, throwing down the unkeyed mic in disgust he
ran after his men with a K-12 kit, portapower case and crowbars.

As he disappeared into the burned out hulk of the house, the birds
around him continued singing gayly, undisturbed.

-----------------------------------------

Photo:  Johnny getting wet from a water can.

Photo:  Chet leaning through the kitchen door, soaked.

Photo:  Cap and Chet firefighting with a hose.

Photo:  A burned out lake house on a clear blue morning day.

Photo:  Charred ribs of a burned out house, closeup.

Photo:  Sunlight on the stairs of a burned basement.

Photo:  Cap running out of the engine cab, radioing for help.

***************************************************
From: patti keiper <pattik1@hotmail.com> 
Date: Sun Apr 20, 2008 12:49 pm 
Subject: AutoPilot.. 

Hank got to the edge of the ash lined beach in the back yard
and shouted at his men. He spotted all four of them, running
for the house.  "Don't.. move.. a.. muscle! We're checking this out 
first!"  

Gage sputtered, beginning to panic. "Cap, if it's bad, he's got
only four min--"

"Don't you think I know that? We have to be safe first before 
we can even BEGIN to think about going in there. Get into fresh SCBA.
Grab enough for all of us. We're gonna analyze position, obstacles
and guess the total time we might need to enter and work inside
the house, and then we're coming right back out here to plan all this out.
Marco, keep hailing for him. On his emergency band."

Roy was fighting his instincts. "No, wait. Cap, he's not responding. 
And it's gonna be forever before help arrives. We have to at least
take a fast look.."

Hank ignored him. "Get into this gear, now. You, and Marco. Full 
body harness with retrieval lines attached inside hose rollers to prevent
abrasion. Wristlets for Chet for a fast out if he not buried and
if the space he's in is big enough and vertical. Set up the hand-cranked 
mechanical winch and tripod."

"But.."

"Just go! Stoker, bring a ladder, and our explosion-proof lighting. 
Gage, grab a scoop stretcher and the medical gear. Oxygen resuscitator 
first. I'll get the electronic gas detectors and color-indicator gas detector tubes
so we can determine our oxygen content, lower explosive limit, and check
for toxic atmospheres."  As he spoke, he kept grabbing at his mens'
jackets, to keep them from running inside and to keep them focused 
despite their shock. "And get out two escape cylinders. Move!"

All four men fled under his orders.

It tore Hank's heart to hear Lopez continuing to beg Kelly into answering
them over the personal band.

Gritting his teeth and fighting tears, Hank lifted his walkie talkie and 
switched to L.A.'s frequency. "Engine 51,L.A. Confirmed one missing. 
No obvious hazardous mat's yet. Utilities were shut off during our knockdown. 
Time since collapse...." he looked at his watch. "Two minutes, seven 
seconds... Mark."

##Time stamping.##

Cap went on, relaying his critical information. "This is the Bradley
housing development. Contact a Scott Myers. We'll need to obtain
architechural drawings of this address. We need an aerial perspective
of the scene. Our side access is limited. Notify USAR 1, there is no 
rebar or massively sized concrete debris present. Victim was last noted
to be away from all exterior walls. We will need overhead lift capability.
Several large unburned rafters are lying on the dig site. Send a stand by 
fire/rescue team a.s.a.p. and P.D. with barricades for crowd control and a 
traffic block. "

##L.A., Engine 51. Affirm additional resources. Battalion Seven reports 
an E.T.A. of six minutes to assume incident command. L.A. to Copter Two.
Report to three miles east of Topanga Freeway, on the north shore of
Shane's Lake to 51's entrapment beneath a cold fire site.## 

##10-4, L.A. There in one.## said the helicopter pilot.

Hank ran to carry out his physical part of the sudden rescue operation. 
It was almost instantly, when they were all back and laden with
equipment which they set up upwind of the charred house fire footprint.

"All right, everybody's mask on tight? Okay, inside. We're testing 
the oxygen in all areas first. Then look for combustible gases 
and vapors. Explosion risk may be on the rise from all that organic
material rotting in the lake so near the basement foundation. There might
be carbon monoxide left over from the fire or hydrogen sulfide or methane 
from the beach coming through the sand. These might cause 
olfactory fatigue at high levels. Any one of these gases will displace 
Chet's oxygen, they're heavy. Let's do air sampling in four foot 
increments vertically and horizontally, including corners and lowspots, to 
ensure that all potential hazards are identified.  Allow solid time 
to accommodate our sampling speed range and the detector's response. 
Do NOT enter a hole if you find flammable or explosive gas, vapor, or 
mist in a concentration greater than 10 percent of its lower flammable 
limit or lower explosive limit. Enter only if dust is less that five feet visual 
density or if there's proven oxygen deficiency below 19.5%. With that
last figure, we'll know Chet's suffocating. If he does need breathing
help on the demand valve, watch it! Oxygen enrichment at 23.5 percent 
oxygen or above in a small space is deadly. Static electricity from your 
clothing or even your hair will re-ignite even a dead fire. Prevent this by first 
ventilating his confined space with normal, ambient air using our outside 
air hose."

The firemen trembled in stress, crouching over the detectors
as they worked step by step. Stoker's intense frown broke. "LEL 
and LFL's are below tolerance. Some..uh,..CO and minor sulfides. 
PELs are normal. Oxygen's at... 20.1%. Air's dust free in most places."

"So far." Lopez nodded, beginning to sweat inside his mask. "Chet, come
on, answer us, pal. If we're near you, let us know.." he pleaded over his
radio. "Make a noise. Or anything, please."

Silence reigned.
  
Stanley lightly stood on the edge of the pile mounded up
inside where the burned out house once stood. After ensuring rescuer 
safety and minimal movement of the debris, Cap swallowed the grit 
still in his throat, and sent two of his men to the top of the pile to 
systematically search the surface in specific grids. "DeSoto, Marco. 
You go up first. Keep in constant communications by radio with the surface.  
You are not to travel a greater distance down any hole farther than 
allowed by your ten minute air supply or any more than ten feet from
the escape cylinders." he said, sending them in. "Use barricade tape and 
markers to visually mark the areas that have been searched around that 
stairwell site. Don't lose hope yet, gang. As many as one half of all collapse 
survivors have been rescued near the surface of the debris and early in 
the effort in my experience." he shared over H.T. "Your bags have three 
light sources each in them. Use them often." 

Gage added his own two cents worth. "Make sure additional collapse 
doesn't occur anywhere near him, guys.  Use your hands and small tools to 
remove debris, while you're up there, until you know ..exactly.. where he is."
he fidgetted inside of his air mask. "Roy, I'll have the M.A.S.T. trousers
ready for any "crushing" injuries so he won't suffer a complete 
hemodynamic collapse once you start getting him free. Ringer's'll be
in seconds later."   

"Okay.." came Roy's voice as he disappeared inside, trailing his
sheath covered rope.

Stoker and Cap manned their lines. "Mike, when they've found the spot, 
see about additional ventilation options. Static free PPE fans, whatever 
we've got. I don't want anybody overheating in there." Hank ordered,
shouting through his faceplate.

Just then, radio traffic erupted from Hank's radio. ##Engine 51, This
is Copter Two. We're over your area.##

Cap didn't look away from his youngest paramedic. He replied
back to the chopper pilot. "Two firemen inside. Keep a lookout
for new cave-ins." he instructed. "Or movement from the victim.
He's a Code I."

##Roger, will do, 51.## came the fast reply. 

Johnny and Cap watched the dot in the sky begin to circle overhead
with its familiar silhouette and transponder hum over their channel.

Stanley gently set a glove on Gage's shoulder, who jumped.
Hank apologized, doubly. "Sorry. Sorry I didn't send you in there right 
away."

"That's okay, I'm good at maneuvering a resuscitator around
tight corners. Once we have 'em.." Johnny tried to joke as he drew
his eyes once more to the quiet hulk of the fallen, still smouldering
house.

Hank tried to grin, outwardly acting reassured, but inside, he felt numb.
"I couldn't rush this." Cap explained, keeping a feel on his rope
attached to Marco.

"I know. Our safety came first. Like it always does." Johnny said
bitterly. 

Stanley offered shallow comfort. "We're doing all we can."
 
"Let's just hope it's enough, Cap. I don't even want to THINK about
how things might go." he hissed, not looking at his captain for the 
first time in living memory.

Hank became speechless, lost in misery, too.

Then Gage said something else. "Cap, can you ask the B.C. 
to set aside a special place for our families and any psychological 
care we might need that's near to but off of the rescue site? To do 
otherwise will probably... just invite charges of insensitivity later. I... don't 
want ANYBODY else we know... trying to attempt to enter or stay in the 
immediate rescue area. Just in case Chet proves to be-.." he broke 
off, his face twisting.

"Yeah, pal. I'll do that first thing. And Relief'll be here too, with food
and tents."

Another roar of helicopter rotors less familiar than the fire department's
suddenly grew louder. Both firefighters looked up to see the bright
obnoxious blue and white coloring of Channel 8's television bird. Johnny 
mock spat onto the charred ground. "Oh, no. D*mn it. Not the press, too!" he 
choked. "Cap, we gotta send them away.. Now's not a good t--"

Hank shushed him with a grip on the shoulder. He was firm but urgent.
"Go be our Public Information Officer. That way, they can't
scrutinize or question our every move.  Be as forthcoming as 
possible, without compromising the integrity of this operation, 
Chet, or the rest of the department. I'll let you know the second
we find Kelly."

"I'll go call Rampart now and then wait for that civvie pilot and those
two reporters to land." said Gage, pulling off his mask.

Hank watched him walk away from the debris site, fully carrying the 
weight of the world on his two small shoulders.

------------------------------------------------------------------

Photo:   Falling debris inside a house.

Photo:   Chet, falling in closeup.

Photo:   Trickle of debris falling in a dark, charred place.

Photo:   Gage looking stressed in a gray soot field.

Photo:   Stoker running with an axe and an airbottle.

Photo:   Cap talking to an anxious Gage, crouching on 
              a shock sheet.

Photo:   Roy, searching in a dim place, close up.

Photo:   A fire department helicopter over Carson.

**************************************************
From: patti keiper <pattik1@hotmail.com> 
Date: Sun Apr 20, 2008 7:27 pm 
Subject: In the spirit of Free Spirits.. 
 
Cap continued to talk to Roy and Lopez as
they checked each crevice, nook and cranny
near the place the stairwell had been. That location
was at the very center of the uneven pile of blackened
wood and melted insulation. And everywhere, footing
was treacherously slippery from fire hose slag and
an ashy fire created mud. Sizzling drips abounded from
depths of the charcoiled ruins as steam and water vapor
condensed and found its way down towards gravity. 

Even past their helmets, the slime got in. 

Hank, too, was soon wet to the skin through his trousers
from where he stood as the lookout officer, watching them.
"Our continued safety, once we're at his buried location, 
is going to be maintained solely by continuous forced-air 
ventilation. We may have to do some hot work to get
rid of some of these water pipes. Stoker, keep monitoring
conditions. I want to bring the current 8% LEL concentration 
of our mix down at the base of the pile here to 50% of the PEL."

"Cap, that's a lot of pumping to do." Mike said softly.

"We'll let's get started." Hank told him quietly. "If this wind
keeps up, we'll be able to take our masks off soon." he said,
eyeing up the street visible through the black bones of
the house's combusted frame. "Roy! Marco! Still watch your radios. 
Spark risk remains! Use only when you're away from any holes!"

"Right, Cap." DeSoto shouted back, giving him a thumbs up
hand signal.

Approaching sirens gave all the gang a burst of urgent tears
when that station's arrival signaled the twelve minute mark
with still no positive sign of Chet's whereabouts.

##Station 51, this is Ladder Nine.  We can begin a fog over your
location at your discretion.##

Hank got on his radio. "Ladder Nine. Set up on the north side, 
upwind. We have no obvious water combustibles. Tolerances are 
within working parameters.  This fire was contained without foam or 
chemicals two hours, ten ago."

##Heard from your victim?## asked the grizzled captain incoming.

Stanley hesitated, not wanting to answer truthfully, but he made 
his lips move for the job's sake. "Not yet."

##Location?##

"Single level sub-basement, central stairwell... exact middle.
uh.... U- Under the first floor of plywood and a few rafters."

##Inundation risk?##

"None. The drain tiling for this house is still very good. Our water
from earlier's not pooling at all, even at floor level."

##I copy that traffic, 51. Sending in two backup team pairs to help 
with your search and rescue. L.A. reports USAR 1's ETA, as fifteen 
out.##

"Nine, copy. Embers are at depth only, on wood. We had the walls
completely gutted out and flooded. No open fire remains near us.
Roof collapse is not a threat." Cap said ironically angry, peering up 
at the square of mockingly blue sky above them.

##I'll be right in... B.C. Seven's here. I'll update him for you, Hank.
Concentrate on your lost man now. I got your back.##
 
--------------------------------------------------------------------------

Johnny Gage's fingers fumbled at the catch snaps of the biophone
where he crouched on an already spread out yellow shock sheet.
He was shaking so hard, he couldn't plug in the aerial antennae.

"Here." said Paramedic Craig Brice gently, doing it for him.

Startled, Johnny looked up for a long, shocked moment, and then 
against his will, he began to weep. "It's Chet. He might be gone by
now, Craig. The whole floor came down on him." he whispered, almost 
coming to pieces. "There hasn't been a single..*sniff*...word from him."

Brice smiled softly as he got 51's defib, stokes and ekg ready.
"There are always possibilities. He had time to activate the H.T.
distress beacon, didn't he? We all heard it. That means that he might 
still be in an air pocket where he's free from the waist up."

"You could be right. He must have been conscious for at least that 
long." Grunting in emotional pain, Johnny drew in a cleansing breath..
and picked up the receiver. He kept turmoil, out of his voice.
"Rampart, this is Rescue 5-1. Do you read me? R--"  he 
covered his mouth, fighting his stress, then Gage began again.
"Rampart, ....this is S-Squad 51. Do you read our transmission?"

Nurse Dixie McCall answered. ##10-4, 51. We read you loud and 
clear.##

Gage gripped the red case tightly and with his eyes closed, 
he reported in. "Rampart, we've a Code I, currently inaccessible
following a structural collapse. Uh, potential for a full resuscitation.
He's been buried under post fire debris for..." he grimaced as he
looked at his watch. "...fourteen minutes, notifying you for potential 
trauma and surgical teams. No Burn Unit."

----------------------------------------------------------------------------

In the communications alcove, McCall rapped long fingernails on
the window glass to attract Dr. Morton's attention at the desk. She saw
that he was on the phone when he turned around at the noise, and in 
mock horror of the boring phone conversation he was in, he spun 
can-it-wait? fingers at her.

She nodded yes.

Morton sighed and turned his back to spare Dixie his chatter as
he loudly outlined the argument that he was having with the lab 
people downstairs.

McCall grinned. Lab mistakes were very few when Dr. Morton was 
on shift.

It was then Dixie got an odd feeling from the way Johnny had worded 
his patient information. She frowned and toggled the replyback. "51, for 
faster medical records access, do you know the identity of the victim?" 
Flipping on another reel to reel, she added, "I've switched over to a 
secured channel and recording mode." 

##Dixie, he's from my shift. It's Chester B. Kelly.## Gage reported, 
answering the way Chet's name appeared on his medical chart. 
##Age 31. Best case scenario, is long term entrapment.##

Dixie gasped, and almost dropped the chart she had started
at the beginning of the call. She whirled and immediately began
pounding on the glass for Mike with her fist, urgently and scared.

Morton caught the hint, hung up the phone, and came.
"What's the problem?" he said, entering the room. "A life or
death situation?"

McCall's eyes filled. "Mike, I need your advice. I know very personal
information about a trapped firefighter with 51's, who might not 
make it in time to see his..." finally Dixie came out and said it as
generally as she could.  "..his immediate--"

"Who is this again?" Morton asked, looking down at the clipboard. 
"Mr. Chet Kelly? Isn't that the young fireman who was on that great
crash diet kick last year? Wow, ..I didn't know he had kin living in
California."
 
Dixie held very still as she leaned on the counter. Then she
reached down and toggled the intercom to Johnny. "10-4, 51.
Please stand by for more information."

##Standing by..##

That got Morton's attention. "Dix, what is it that you aren't telling me?"

"Come with me. I've got to think this out..." McCall fled the room,
bruskly signalling another nurse to watch the paramedic alcove
for her.  Swiftly, she went across the hall to Kel Brackett's office.

She knocked, but it was empty. Together, resident and nurse went inside,
with Morton trailing, completely puzzled after her, the whole time.

Once the door closed, Dixie froze by Kel's desk, uncertain.

Mike wasted no bones.
"Now are you going to explain to me exactly what it is about this 
patient's personal information that has you worked up so bad?"

"Should I?" asked Dixie again. "Am I authorized to?"

Mike didn't even blink at that strategy. "If it's a matter of life and death,
of course!" Morton exasperated, throwing up his hands in frustration.

Turned loose, Dixie told all. "Chet's not living alone in that apartment of
his."

"Okay, so he's got a girlfriend. I don't have a problem with that. Go call
her and send her out to them by police c---"

"It's...more complicated than that, Mike." Dixie said, tears welling up. 
"They've really loved each other, from moment one." 

"Okay, who's she?" Morton asked, folding his arms together.

"Remember Ginger? That fifty eight year old belly dancer from
the club who ended up being hypoglycemic for taking diet pills?"

"Her?"

"No, 'she' is Ginger's best friend, Red. Mike, Chet calls her Big Red every 
chance he gets." Dixie stood there, and blinked. Then she sighed, hugely. 

Mike just stood there, with total incomprehension spreading on his face.

"Oh, Mike. Don't be so dense like other men are. Whenever he says that,
Chet doesn't mean the chewing gum." Dixie fretted.

Morton, to his credit, never got offended. "Okay, so did they elope? 
That could be a problem if the fire department ever found out. They frown 
on employees who lie about how many are claimed on W-2 tax forms."

Dixie gave a joyless laugh and put sad, folded fingers to her agonized 
mouth. "C-Can you keep a secret?"

Mike simply threw up his hands in an I'm-a-doctor,-duh gesture.

"Okay, okay, okay. This is fact." McCall said, pushing him
into a chair as she stood over him and glared. "No one's ever
gone over to Chet's place since the day they met. That much
I KNOW." she insisted. 

"Ah, so.. they ARE married. Still, not a problem in my book." Morton just 
nodded, encouraging her to continue. "That'll be for the fire chiefs and the 
IRS to mull over later."

Dixied eyed him up, thinking hard, like a woman. "Geez, Mike. They're
both deeply loving hippy types. True, free spirits. They went to Woodstock, 
bought the T-shirt... And he's attended every one of her belly dance 
performances ever since that first promise of his..." she led on. "They're still 
together, even after six years. They say they're absolutely devoted to each other 
and they both tell me it's because it's always been... love at first sight."

Mike blinked a couple of times. "Wait a minute, is this leading up to where
I think it's leading?"

Dixie didn't move.

Morton tried again, finally understanding. "There's truly no ring?"

Dixie nodded miserably, tears running afresh. ""No, and it's a stigma if anyone 
found out. Take a look, Mike. I got this just last week as a birthday present. It 
was supposed to be our secret... Nurse.." she gave a long, panged sigh of 
sympathy. ".. to a certain pair of visiting E.R. patients..." 

Then she drew out a wallet and showed him a single, very recent photograph.

"Oh, no... Confidentiality be d*mn*d." Mike sighed sadly, looking down. "You 
have my permission to do whatever it takes to get Chet's girlfriend out onto that 
scene."

"Immediately, Dr. Morton.." McCall sobbed. 

They left the room in a hurry.

------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Photo:  Cap getting orders from Battalion along with Roy and Johnny.

Photo:  Chet down, in a smoky house, in scba and helmet.

Photo:  Dixie looking troubled, in Kel's office.

Photo:  Big Red the belly dancer, smiling.

Photo:  Big Red, the dancer flirting with Chet, by Marco Lopez.

Photo:  Firefighters working a building collapse, framed by a setting 
               sun's rays.

**************************************************
From: Patti or Jeff or Cassidy <theaterhost@voyagerliveaction.com> 
Date: Sun Apr 20, 2008 11:51 pm 
Subject: Forever In Their Soul.. 

(This post is a collaboration of Erin J., fan writer Linda T. 
and Patti K.)

It was an hour later, and Cap, panting hard from his exertions,
lifted an arm as he clicked on his radio. ##Okay, everybody.
Shut down for one minute! All hands, quiet all your equipment.
This is gonna be listening check one!## he announced, his 
voice cracking with emotion and fatigue. The sun was already 
low enough in the sky that the rubble pile had taken on a somber 
black and white cast with shades of limpid gray overtones. Only 
the colored parts of the work paused firecrew's eyes showed 
any color at all. The scene matched Hank's black mood. Inside,
he felt lost and very, very small. ::This isn't happening. Is this working?
Are we making any headway? Is Chet still okay? G*d, I hate this 
not knowing..:: his thoughts pressed against the ache behind his
eyes as he concentrated on the small sounds echoing around
the wide skeleton of the house.  :: Small help it's been that the air's
still good in here. Wearing air masks would've helped cut down
some of this dust we're eating. :: he fretted.

Time after time, in that minute, Cap thought he heard scraping, or 
tiny moans, only to be disappointed when that movement or origin 
turned out to be from somebody whole and standing.

Near him, a worker whispered. "...we need a dog..."

His buddy whispered back. "...there weren't any available. Most
are out of state on demos training...." he muttered back, morose.

Cap's eyes stung. :: Oh, how I wish Boot were still here. He would
have been able to find Chet in a--::

"Over here!" came DeSoto's excited cry. "I think I see something!"

Marco joined the outcry. "It's cloth. For sure. And a shoe? Chet?
Chet?! Can you hear us?" Lopez yelled, digging carefully, but
very fast at the new hole they had discovered.

Hank snapped out another order as a flood of firefighters began
quickly picking their way over to that location. "Easy, easy. Don't
cause an avalanche into that crack. One at a time. Yes, nice and
easy. Yes, bring over that set of crow bars.. Stoker, do we need
air bottles down there? What does the detector say?"

"It's clear." Mike sobbed, in relief. "Normal ambient."

"Let's get to work!" Hank urged.

Gage had heard the news, and had come running with the 
resuscitator and the biophone. "Cap?! How far down is he?"

DeSoto looked up from the hole he had been peering through.
"I think about nine feet. Can't....quite....reach him with the probe.
Too small for anybody to get into. We're gonna have to cut
him out."

"Has he moved at all?"

"Not yet. And there's only a little blood here, from his right arm."
Roy reported. 

"What's his color?" Stanley finally asked, wanting confirmation
on signs of life.

"Can't tell. This dust's coating him like all the rest of us." DeSoto
coughed. 

Lopez staggered when a large section he was leaning on suddenly
shifted.

"Look out!! Everybody freeze!" Stanley hollered. "Don't move an inch!"

The tipped over wall started sliding anyway.. "Grab it! Stop it!" came cries
from firemen all over as a car sized slab started creeping towards Chet's
hole. "It's gonna cover him back up!" came frightened cries.

Gloves from a dozen firefighters and a solid grapple hook and chain
attached to Ladder Nine's bucket, extended overhead, finally arrested its
movement.  

"Tie it off! Quickly..!" came Battalion Seven's order. "Don't bother 
breaking it up. Just stabilize it so the rest of this pile doesn't move."

Eagerly, two engine crews and the engineers from USAR 1, got to work.

-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Gage got on the biophone, rehailing Rampart.. His voice was excited,
hopeful.  "Rampart, this is Rescue 51. What's your patient data?
We've established visual contact..."

Dr. Early got on the phone. ##Squad 51, go ahead.##

Johnny's face fell. "Rampart, Miss McCall told us to standby for
more info. Happen to know what it was?"

Joe's expression crumpled in curiosity. He knew if Dixie had tried to
relay earlier, and hadn't gone through to the paramedics, the news she
shared probably wasn't going to be good news on either end. #Negative, 
51. But I will let you know as soon I find out. Chances are, she's finding
another way to bring it to you.##
 
Johnny looked up from inside the house instinctively when he saw Brice 
get up as he noticed a group of new arrivals emerging from a police squad 
car through the landmark spray painted, fire pockmarked west wall. ::Four 
people from the hospital?:: he thought. One, Gage noticed, didn't get out.
::Looks like Vince is keeping a close eye there. I wonder why?::

Craig left the curbside and went out to intercept them. Gage felt a shock 
of recognition when the two females seemed very familiar to him. One 
woman, was Dixie, in a field uniform. The other, had thick tresses of 
long flowing auburn hair down to her waist. Dr. Morton, was
guiding her over to the command area, near the treatment
gear ready squads. Dixie McCall had her other hand,.. and 
her ear, speaking to her quietly, as they walked.

::Oh, no. Is that who I think it is?:: Johnny wondered, as a distant
memory of belly dancers came to mind.

But then the sound of a biting K-12 blocked out all thought
of the new visitors. 

Stoker slicked back his visor. "I'm through. Johnny, this might
be big enough for you an--"

"Let me through..." Gage said, setting down the biophone case
and resuscitator near Cap's feet. Gage upended head first in
his safety helmet, harness and rope and he slowly slithered
into the hole Roy had pointed to.

There was a long pause and muffled scraping..

Then... "...I can't get through.. There's been another cave in...
Pull back me up.."

The other firefighters muttered in frustration and hastened to
aid him. Soon, Johnny was back in front of Cap. "We gotta
dig again. By hand."

"Is he breathing?" Hank asked him. "Local condensation should
have told you that."

Johnny looked down setting his muddy gloves onto
his hips.  "I couldn't tell. There's dampness from left over hose 
water still dripping down all around him."

Stanley quickly ran grubby fingers through his hair and as quickly
he replaced back, his dusty captain's helmet. "All right everybody, you
know what's left. And shore up as you go. I want an escape
cylinder down on each side of him as you dig.." he ordered.

Next to him, Battalion Seven agreed with a silent nod.

The first chill of the coming night came drifting through the work area
and raised goosebumps on Hank's arms. Already, he could see
forgotten embers glowing orange in the violated wood surrounding
them. They were no longer a threat, ...but neither were they warm.

---------------------------------------------------------------------

Craig Brice got out a blanket for Red to wrap around herself. 
"Please, sit down, miss. I know this is hard to comprehend right now.
But I'm afraid, it's all true."

"No, Chet.. No!.." she sobbed, still beside herself. "He can't be trapped
in there.. He's always... *choke* so careful...Especially at work.." she cried, 
nearly hysterical, and struggling.

Dixie gripped her around the shoulders tightly. "Red, Red.. Calm down. 
Now what would he think? Do you really want Chet to see and hear you 
like this?"

Nearby, Dr. Morton nodded silently to Craig to take action.

Brice began to speak. "Red,..Now you're working yourself up. That's
not a good thing for your daughter, now is it?"

Red just sobbed, holding her stomach, from nausea. 

Craig went on. "I'm going to give you a local. Okay? It's just a light
sedative. It won't hurt you at all... Can you hold this arm still for a
moment? That's right, Dixie, hold her head." he said, holding an IM
hypo aloft. Brice began swabbing down the skin on Red's shoulder.

A few seconds after the injection, McCall started singing softly to her.
A song with a single name in it, over and over again, like a lullaby, holding
Chet's true love tightly in a desperate embrace. "Shh... I'm here. We're
all.. here.." and McCall's tiny hand sank lower, to hold Red's own in a soft 
grip, over her stomach. "And so's she..."

"My daughter.. She.." Red startled and looked up, suddenly forgetting why
she was out in the middle of a street surrounded by fire trucks. "Where's her dad?
Where's Chester?" she shouted, confused. But then the medication's sudden 
effects eased a bit, and she remembered why when she looked at the shadowed 
hulk of the house. 

Quietly, her crying softened and lessened, but it was no less acute.

Dixie looked up at Brice. "I'll stay with her.." she said. But nonverbally, she
cast her eyes scenewards to the work site. ::Go get an update.:: they said
firmly.

Nodding, Craig put on his helmet and jogged back to the others. Dr. Morton
began to take a blood pressure on Red. "Shhh, it's over. The diazepam isn't 
gonna make you feel dizzy any more. Just relax against Dixie while I see
how you're doing. That paramedic's gone for news, okay?  Just try to rest
a bit. Now isn't that song Nurse McCall's singing nice? What tune is it, Dix? 
I've never heard it before."

"It's something Chet wrote..... on his guitar." Red sobbed, burying her head
into Dixie's warm shoulder.

----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Marco and Roy broke through, falling against the exposed 
concrete sewer cylinder Chet was lying against, face down. 

 Wiping oily grime off his dripping face, Roy reached for Kelly's
soot and plaster powdered neck with a couple of bare fingers.
"Chet? Can you hear me? It's Roy.." he said near his ear.

Marco's face looked pinched. Already, he knew Chet wasn't
breathing, and hadn't been for quite some time. He didn't have
to ask whether or not Roy had found a pulse. The answer was no.

DeSoto let go, disbelieving, and moved to Chet's head, drawing
out a penlight in the quiet dimness. He passed the beams over
Kelly's eyes under lids that seemed stiff and didn't want to open. 
Then he straightened up. "Dilated." Then he looked up at Marco.
"Go ahead and check for it." he told him gruffily. "I think we both...
...know."

Lopez quickly drew up Chet's turnout sleeve away from the broken arm
they had noticed earlier and saw the clear sign. His eyes immediately
filled. More frantic, Marco cut away Chet's jacket and shirt, using Roy's
bandage scissors, right up his side, and there, he found it, too, hugging 
the ground. "It's lividity." he said, barely audible, fingering the dark blue 
purple splotches on the chalky skin.

Roy started crying silently then, barely able to pull out his stethoscope 
for one last confirmation as he leaned over Chet's back, drawing him 
closer to his knees, where they both crouched inside of the small 
space.

"Well?!" came Cap's booming voice, echoing down to them
eagerly.

DeSoto couldn't speak. 

So Lopez did it for him. "He's-- O Donya Maria!, He's muerte!...
We're too late, Cap!" he screamed in shock, horror. "Oh, G*d!"

Roy, next to him, didn't move. Then he, too, whispered, into his 
H.T. "..far too late.." he said as he pulled the silver and black 
drum away from Kelly's silent chest.  Overcome with grief, he 
pulled off his turnout coat and covered up Kelly's face and 
chill curled limbs gently.

------------------------------------------------------------------------
Vince Howard waited for Stanley to meet him outside
the debris field. A few seconds later, the news the officer
shared, had shaken Hank anew.

Captain Stanley took one look at Howard's squad car, blanched at 
something he saw inside of it, and then he snapped out an order. 
"Guys, we're not leaving this scene in the usual way." he said as
Marco, Roy and Stoker silently gathered up Chet's body from
where it sprawled awkwardly in the place where he had died. "This has
become more than a just retrieval. I- I want a family out there to know,
that absolutely everything possible today, has been done.." he said, 
pointing out to the treatment area, where Dixie and Red sat holding 
each other's icy hands. His eyes flowed unabashed. "I want them 
to know that one small comfort. It's the one thing, we CAN do."

DeSoto was still numb. "Cap, I don't understand.."

Hank helped him to his feet. "Roy. Go uncover him.
Take your jacket back. No way are we going to rack up a huge 
useless ambulance transportation bill, for a newly grieving family."

"Family? Cap? They had time to get here?" asked Lopez, stunned.

"These folks are different. I'll explain later." Hank whispered. 
"Let's get moving."

Gage set his mouth into a firm unreadable line. "I'll get the supplies
going."

Roy suddenly understood what Stanley was planning, and approved.
"I'll start on him. Johnny, is the O2 apparatus nearby?"

"Yeah. I'll be with ya in a sec. Gonna get the EKG monitor from Brice."

Mike's eyes lit up in sharp, sad understanding. "Give me two minutes 
and I'll be ready to roll out."

------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Station 51 started Chet Kelly's code immediately. Keeping up CPR
in a full resuscitative effort, they loaded Chet up into the stokes,
continuing to deliver paddle shocks. They administered medications as 
accurately and quickly as they could through his endotrachael tube 
that was taped solidly into place, in between the light breaths Marco 
delivered by ambu bag.

Each shock became a stab into their own hearts when they finally
heard the strained, almost voiceless cries from Red as she ran toward 
them. They rushed by as she fell headlong into the sharpest, freshest 
grief anyone could ever possibly know. The loss of a soul mate.

They didn't remember lifting up Chet's still form to the hose bed on 
top of the engine. They only briefly motioned to Dr. Morton, to join 
them, with Cap secretly slipping him the initial hopeless strip of 
asystole they had obtained inside the ruined hole. Morton did so, 
donning a fire jacket and helmet for safety from a passing fireman. 
Mike didn't miss a beat, falling into the act of mercy smoothly, 
acting as a doctor should, for the entire lights and sirens Ward 
engine trip into Rampart.

----------------------------------------------------------------------------------
Cap didn't go in to the hospital with the rest of his crew. He dried
the many tears from his face. Then he combed his hair as best he 
could with fingers he had cleaned from a relief crew offered water 
bottle.

Soon, he was presentable.

Howard stepped forward towards him, and said, "Red's in no 
condition to handle this just yet. Might be because she's been
medicated, Dixie says. That's why she probably asked you."

"Ok, Vince. Thanks." Stanley replied, unconsciously rubbing
off some soot from his turnout jacket that had, at last, completely
dried in the wind.

The moment struck him harder than he thought. 

Taking off his helmet, Vince smiled and opened the rear door of 
his squad car and held out his hand to assist its sole occupant.

A small, slender one accepted his and a tiny female form in a simple
red dress lined with blue, got out. Her hair was flaxen red-gold, like
her mother's but her eyes.. were all Chet.

"So, you're Lyra Kelly." Stanley said, crouching before her. ::My word.
She must be at least six or seven years old already.:: he thought
with wonder. "Do you know who I am?"

Chet's daughter caught sight of her mother, highly upset
and being comforted by Dixie McCall, and trembled. But to her
credit, she didn't cry. "You're the captain. Of my dad's fire 
station. I've seen your picture on the mantle. Along with Roy
and Mikey and Johnny and Marco and.." she broke off, the first
sign of distress clouding her amber eyes.

"Don't be scared. You're safe. Is it just you and Red in
your family along with daddy?"

"Uh huh... I don't have any sisters. Not yet, anyway. Mommy 
talks about getting more babies. But that's for later."

Stanley felt an upwelling of sudden grief, but he suppressed it.

He took the willowy child's hands into his own and was
amazed that she didn't flinch from the smell of smoke, and sweat.
::The dear thing's probably used to it, from Chet coming home 
unshowered on heavy-shift nights.::  

Blinking back visceral reactions, Stanley smiled, but he let the vestiges 
of sadness frame his eyes. "But your dad has brothers.. Lots of them. 
Uh,..A-And they came to help your daddy today when he fell down a 
hole at work. But despite all their fire trucks and first aid boxes, they 
couldn't do enough to save him, hon.." he said, his voice cracking.  
"I was there the whole time and.. we did the best.. the best that we 
could. I'm so sorry, Lyra. Do you understand?"

The child's glowing face shattered, and beamed in beauty, too.
"I'll try, but it won't be easy. *sniff* I loved my daddy." And Lyra
melted into Cap's arms in a paroxysm of grief so profound, that
it swept him up into its teeth, too.
 
"So did I." said Hank Stanley and he completely broke down. He 
set his helmet onto her head as he began sobbing, "So did I." in 
a muffled whisper into her soft hair.

Together, weeping, they joined the arms of her tearful mother, 
and Dixie's offering of empathy.

-----------------------------------------------------------------------

Captains Roy and Johnny sat watching Captain Stanley
returning from that painful day of long ago.

"Still hurts, doesn't it?" Roy asked gently.

Their old captain blinked, and rubbed his eyes tiredly.
"Yeah. But not so much anymore. If it did, I wouldn't be
keeping firm reminders of the Phantom around.." Hank smiled
lightly, tossing a head at the bulletin board behind them once
again. 

Johnny smiled lightly at the can Hank pointed at, "Man how 
many showers did I actually take from that thing?" 

Roy pulled out an old medical pad. "26....And a half, if you
count the one you dodged by the mop closet." he
said, peering at his ancient beloved hatch marks. 

"Oh, that one?" Cap said in amusement. "You mean the one
you got only partially soaked at where that pretty little thing 
of a mom thought you were the captain?"

The trio laughed. 

"Doesn't matter now, does it?" asked Johnny archily.
"Heh. Because I finally AM one."

"Feels good, doesn't it, boys?" Stanley wanted to know,
resting his chin on a casual hand and elbow.

"Yeah.." they both said. "A dream come true."

FIN
 
Episode 51, Season Six Finale
What's A Dedicated Captain Like You Doing..
Emergency Theater Live

---------------------------------------------------------------

Photo:  Captain Stanley looking into a dark hole.

Photo:  A dusty body in gray rubble.

Photo:   The gang picking up a fallen firefighter.

Photo:   Chet, Big Red, the belly dancer, and Lyra, their daughter!

Photo:   Roy, looking oily and grief stricken.

Photo:   Cap, crying in the kitchen.

Photo:   Johnny, getting hit with a water can.

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

                                    End Credits --  Episode Fifty One (Sixth Season Finale)
                                      
                                       §§   What's A Dedicated Captain Like You Doing  §§

                               :)   This episode is dedicated to Arlo, a shaggy four legged  :)
                               :)    beloved dog, who was my friend to the very end...E.J.     :)
                          And to Liam, the very talented Emergency fan who's music is playing. 



 
 \\\@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@///
 

Title:    The Face In The Mirror
            
Author:   Anotherjaneway 

Contact Consultant:  pattik1@hotmail.com

 
Summary:   Roy DeSoto makes a mistake in the field and has
                to deal with the possibility of losing his job.
                The gang goes on a sea fog bank multiple car pile up 
                rescue and run into trouble.

              THE FACE IN THE MIRROR  


It was nine in the morning at the Ojai College
campus. Roy DeSoto was starting up yet another
vo-tech course of CPR for public citizens. 


Johnny Gage was setting out the resusi-mannikin
onto the blue gym mat on the floor, and setting its
electronic wires in place. "Huh, you must be crazy,
Roy. Working doubles, then teaching the morning of
your day off.." he scoffed, part teasing, part
complaining. "Don't tell me you've got a new addition
on the house you're trying to pay for."

"Not for the house...." Roy said, shifting on his feet,
and studying his polished shoes.

Gage's smile wiped into a huge grin, "Nahhhhh...." he
bubbled as understanding dawned.

"Yep. Joanne found out for sure last night from her
family doctor."

John dropped the dummy and rose, pumping Roy's arm
like a happy uncle.. "Well, I'll be.. congratulations,
buddy."  He leaned in, hitting Roy on the shoulder,
"That's great! Three's a more rounded number."

When his partner frowned in confusion, John added, 
"They say families have 2.6 kids per household." His 
face fell ruefully, but amused, "But in my case, it's 
definitely a negative number."

Roy handed John a cup of coffee from the counter
by a sunny window. "Don't lose hope, Johnny,
You've only had what?  Five crash and burn dates
this spring? Not a bad average.. And the summer's 
young yet."

"Not a bad average.. Not a bad aver--?"
John lifted the coffee to his lips. It never got there.
"Yeah,...but when will I find HER..?" he sighed. 
"I seem to have better luck attracting hairy furballs
than women lately.."

"How's Bonnie doing anyway?"

"Fine.. She's quiet. Doesn't mind going to the neighbor's
when I'm at work. And she's the one who's been finding me those
dates to begin with." John said, polishing his fingernails on
his grey terry shirt. He adjusted the navy bandana tied
around his forehead up a little more, drawing his mouth up 
smugly.

Roy rolled his eyes, "They say, dogs attract girls like moths
to the flame."

"And this flame is hot to trot..." John said, "I've landed a date
for tonight."

"Oh?" Roy asked, "Who?" he said with a wide splitting yawn.

"Betty..." his partner said mysteriously. "In fact, she's going
to be one of your students today.. Moreno thought he
saw Betty's name on your roster there.." He said pointing to
Roy's slate.

Roy folded his arms. "And I thought you volunteered to help me
with the class today just to be magnanimous." he said levelly,
sipping his capuccino.

"I am being magnanimous.." John said with conviction, stabbing
Roy's yellow t-shirted front with a finger.

Roy didn't believe a single word, "Only as long as it takes to enforce
that heroic rescuer image on her with this course work. I'll
just bet you're going to volunteer to be her heimlich partner.
You know, to get in real tight and personal with her right off."

John's face beamed into a pleased smile, "Hey, I never even 
thought of that angle.. You know, for a very happily married 
man. You're pretty savvy.. Thanks.. partner.."
He watched as Roy fell into another series of face tearing 
yawns. "You'd better get more sleep from now on. Even 
your wrinkles are getting wrinkles.. Start getting some more
sleep or I'm going to haveta take over driving the squad."

Roy was about to launch a protest when there was the sound
of a bell and the rumble of many footsteps coming towards
them.

John put a finger to his lips, "Later... Now you're on.
Just..try to act natural.. You know.. Make me look
good.." he said with a pleading look, sitting at one
of the desks. He took up a hotdog from a pouch in his
knap sack, on cue, and started munching loudly. 

Roy sighed deeply and just shook his head. 

He took a seat in the first of twenty empty ones ringing
the demo mat and flipped his baseball cap around,
looking nonchalant as he slumped there.
 
There was the usual nervous mix of new housewives, 
looking to gain the reassurance of the first aid training 
for their infants. Or, like this month, the latest teen aged 
summer lifeguards chosen from high school job programs 
to fill needs for L.A. County's vast ocean beach front.
 
He became one of many to introduce themselves to each
other in casual social groups. About five minutes later, the 
class took in the air that the teacher wasn't in yet 
and filed into conversation clusters around him.  
Even Gage made a big show of saying hello and eating 
eagerly and chewing his food around his words. 
He milled about acting boisterous and very biker-ish.

Until he threw hands up over his throat and knocked
his chair over in surprise. He started to gasp and 
wheeze,  staggering around.

Two teens jumped up in alarm and started for the
door to call for help. Another football player type
teen grabbed Johnny by the shoulders and started
shaking him.  

A blond woman in jerseys with platinum eyes did
the only thing she knew, pounding gingerly on
Gage's back with a few fingers as if he were made
of glass. Of course, that did nothing to help.

Going limp, John fell to the mat and utter panic ensued.
The class of students milled over him ineffectually 
poking here and prodding there until...

Roy got up from his place watching them all
and "rescued" the choking Gage with the proper
techniques in a calm manner, first listening,
then checking in his mouth, then following up
with back blows and one set of abdominal thrusts.

Johnny promptly spat out the hotdog
right into the class's shocked faces. They leaped 
backward out of reflex as the seemingly unconscious
man made a ballistic missile out of his sausage bite.

Gage opened his eyes, grabbed Roy's hand,
and rolled neatly to his feet. "Thanks, man. I needed 
that.." and he plopped down into his own seat as if 
nothing had ever happened, buttoning up his shirt again.

The stunned onlooking students blinked. Then some
got angry or sank into chairs with shaky adrenalin reaction.

One redhead man stood over John, "You mean you weren't
really in trouble?!!" he shouted at Gage.

"Nope. He wanted to see what you all would do
for me just now." Johnny said, pointing to DeSoto.

Silence filled the room.

Roy spoke up, taking off his hat.
"Pretty scary, wasn't it? Kinda funny
how higher reasoning goes out the window in the face
of a true medical emergency... You,.." he said, pointing
to the burly teen who had tried shaking Gage. "Could have
injured him or even made the obstruction worse
by doing that.  You.." he said, smiling slightly at
the blond woman in the jersey, "were closer to the right 
track.. but sometimes, it's not a good idea to just
go pounding on someone's back if they're making
good attempts to dislodge a foreign body. You
meant well but in this case, it only made things worse
and your victim went unconscious when things
completely blocked off with your "tiny" tries at helping.
You others, who ran for the phone, made a good
decision. Sort of. Summoning help is a sound choice,
but it is always second order of business in a medical
crisis like this one..."

"Second order..?" said the angry teen. "But I thoug--"
He broke off when Roy held up his hand and shot him a
diplomatic smile.

DeSoto flipped his chair around, foregoing
the desk, to be face to face with his class. 
"Let's start off on the other foot shall we?"

"Morning. I'm glad you came here today. I'm Roy DeSoto
and this is Johnny Gage, my department partner of six years."

John nodded, all serious in greeting, once.

"We're both L.A. County Firemen/Paramedics in our
day jobs, when we're not scaring the bejeesus out
of CPR class attendees." Roy went on.

Light chuckles filled the room.

DeSoto went on.
"Now, if you'll  allow us, let us impart a little of what we 
know so you can have the opportunity to make a real 
difference for somebody when it counts the most and to
be successful at it to the point of having the ability 
to SAVE that life free of panic. You're here today to 
learn much more than just what to do for a heart attack
victim or a toddler choking on a grape. You're here today
to assess any given emergency situation and become
an effective caregiver to that victim until professional
help arrives. Minutes and even seconds count, like in
the urgent scene you saw Johnny enact here."

And he went on, explaining why calling for help was
second in importance. He met the angry red headed
man's eyes. "Your first duty to any medical emergency 
victim.. is to assure and establish a viable airway, do 
whatever you can to restore and/or maintain  
breathing second, then to assess and/or 
maintain circulation of bloodflow to the brain, last 
of all.. But what if the mouth's so badly cut, you 
can't get a good seal with which to perform mouth 
to mouth at all?
Or what if someone's neck may be broken? How do
you establish an airway then without tilting 
that person's head back to get one? If you don't, they'll
suffocate, if you do, they might be paralyzed. What
do you do?
There's is much more to CPR than just pushing on 
someone's chest and pinching their nose and blowing air into
their mouths. So let us show you what to do in
many medical cases that aren't so neat and tidy an
incident as the ones your text manual shows you."


------------


It was two pm.

The class ran smoothly, following demos of the heimlich
and other moves and a movie, outlining oxygen debt and
the six minute chart.

Johnny learned that the shy blond woman was
Betty, the one he had known was coming. They seemed
to hit it right off in Roy's mind. She worked through
her timidness about breathing into a dummy only
after Gage demo'd it for her.

He caught Johnny over lunch break and held up a
compressions tape sheet from Betty's mannikin 
sequence.  "Hey, Johnny, she's a strong one. Just look
at this graph! She's in the green on those CPR compressions.
Perfect."

Gage smacked Roy on the shoulder, "I know, she nearly busted
my ribs even pretending the heimlich. I think I'm in love."

Roy sighed, "Just don't go fainting dead away in class just
to get her to breathe for you or anything. Our intro
demo part is over. You two are disruptive enough as it is so
far.." he said smiling. "And we've still the test 
outs to do on them all."


"Oh, puhleassee..I'm not that dumb. I want her to kiss me for 
my natural charms, not some foolhardy stunt like that.."

"Hmmm. I wouldn't put it past you." Roy laughed.

Johnny was oblivious, "She has great reactions. I mean,
when I pretended a blackout with a full obstruction 
while standing, she had her hands right there underneath
my head so I wouldn't bang it going down. Now that's 
sweet thinking on your feet if you ask me."

"If you say so. If I were her. I'd have dumped you like a sack
of potatos and let your fall knock out the obstruction.."
Roy quipped.

"Oh. Ha. ha..." Gage said dryly. "You're just bent out of shape
because I'm using my "uniform" to win a girl. I'm not using my
uniform, how can I be? I'm in a tank top, 
I'm....just teaching her class that's all..."

Roy was skeptical, "Uh huh.." But he said nothing more, 
grinning behind his newspaper. "Gage, the choking Romeo..
Now there's one for the history books." he mumbled.


-------------------------------------

It was the next day at the station and Roy
was still yawning.. Johnny rolled in whistling Dixie,
and popped his locker open with a fancy butt flourish.

Roy didn't even look up, pausing with his arms still
stuck in his T-shirt sleeves he had cocooned over
his head as he sat on the changing bench.
He appeared to be snoring..

Gage turned and tapped Roy's covered head. "Hey..
You alive in there?"

Snnorrreee...

"Come on..." and John pulled down Roy's T shirt the rest
of the way. "Man.. you need a pot of coffee if you're
going to get anywhere today.. Didn't you sleep in the
last few days like I told you to?"

"A little. Had an unexpected amniocentesis bill slip up
on us yesterday. Had to take on another class to
pay for it."

"Amniocen--"  John guessed, "Oh. Is everything ok.?"

Roy looked up at him blearily. "Huh? Oh. yeah.. It's
standard to run one of those at this stage of the game.
Especially with this being Joanne's third ba--- 
YAWWNN...---by." Another ear splitting yawn 
jumbled his last words..


John threw Roy's uniform shirt at him, who was
too tired to catch it. It bounced off his face.
"Wake up.. or I'm going to have give you some O2
to revive ya.. Time for breakfast.." and he
headed into the kitchen, leaving his sleepy partner
behind. "I have a feeling it's going to be a busy
shift for us. It's a full moon tonight." Gage groaned.

"Don't remind me.."came Roy's voice from the locker
room, floating across the station's truck bay.


-------------------

Sounds of fork scrapes and bowl slurps filled
the kitchen along with the aroma of at least
three kinds of morning repasts.

At one seat, the happy eating got a little loud
and not so harmonious. Wood chair legs squealed
like nails on a chalk board as one particular man 
pushed backward from the table.

*Spit* A large glob of Huevos Rancheros festooned
Captain Stanley's paper napkin as he doubled over and
relieved his burning lips of a totally unexpected attack
on his tongue and throat. ".. whoa...*cough*!.."  
Cap's long arms shot out and grabbed a metal jug of water 
and drained half of it in desperate swallows from
the jug itself.

All eyes at the table shot up from newspapers
and magazines in surprise.

Johnny looked up from dishing hashbrowns onto his
platter.. "Cap? You ok? " he said half rising in
concern.

Hank held up hands to show everything was cool and
waited for his voice to come back.
Then he set down the metal water pitcher with
a hollow liquidy clang. "Marco, what are you trying to do?"
he shouted in his best offended tenor voice.
"Are you trying to kill me?"  
He pushed away his Mexican eggs and eyed them distrustfully.  
"I know. This is some kind of revenge because I made you drag
and hang all the engine's hose in the tower before you
left last night." Captain Stanley said regaining his chair.

Marco shook his head vehemently.. "Oh, no.no . no. Cap.."
with eyes widening..

Cap went on.. "I SAID, Try one of your
sweet little old mother's breakfast recipes for a 
change of pace but I didn't mean creating a four 
alarm fire! Man,,, whooo wee..." he coughed.

Gage sat down again, chuckling in relief that
he hadn't requested eggs like Captain Stanley had
done. Marco's turn at breakfast detail was 
always a sort of culinary roulette when he got
into one of his creative cooking moods.

Marco, "Don't look at me like that, Cap. Your exact
quote, to clarify things, was...'How about breaking our 
scrambled eggs and bacon tradition and whipping up 
one of your mother's recipes for a new change of pace?' 
You didn't say what KIND of recipe, nor any limitations
on any spices.."

Hank mulled over that, looking a lot like the 
"Honest Abe" he was, "Hmm.. Guess I did say that, 
Marco." And he reached over and stole Gage's lone bagel.

"Hey!" John protested, out ranked. But Gage quickly 
and craftily snatched another solo bagel from Chet Kelly's 
plate while the curly haired fireman laughed 
uproariously over something in his funnies 
section.

Kelly reached down, without looking, for his bagel
...and didn't find it. He whipped his paper away
and complained to the chipmunk cheeked 
paramedic next to him. "Gage!!"


Johnny shrugged "Snooze? You lose.." he said,
chewing loudly. Soon,  Chet found and walked 
fingers to Stoker's plate and procured the last 
onion bagel there.

SLAP!

"OWw!"  Chet howled, dropping his booty and
yanking his guilty fingers into his mouth.
He sucked on them.

Mike deftly refolded his scolding magazine into his lap
and took a bite of bacon. "Never raid unless
you can get away with it. Chet, you're getting
sloppy. Must be because Gage finally one upped
the Phantom, eh?"

Chet rolled his eyebrows, frowning. "No way man.
Has hell frozen over? The Phantom's sharp as ever."

His next raid on Marco's pancake was thwarted with a
viscious fork parry from Lopez, "Ah ah ah.."
the Mexican warned.

Mike laughed, thoroughly enjoying his rescued
bagel. "Really? How do you figure?"

Cap snickered over his milk.


Then Johnny eyed the tardy DeSoto shuffling into
the kitchen.  He pantomimed to the guys to
keep quiet about his next action, putting a finger
to his lips. Then he made a big show pulling out a 
chair for his partner, "Hey Roy.. Here's some nice
...hhhottt..  coffee.. " he grinned hugely.. 

DeSoto missed all the warning signs..
Roy rubbed dry eyes and lifted the mug handed to him                              
while he plopped down into his seat next to Chet. "Thanks
but I don't think it's going to help any. Not unless you've
got an IV that's pure caffeine somewhere around here."

Gage clicked his tongue.
"Fresh out." John said, picking up Cap's abandoned plate
of steaming Mexican eggs. "Ooo, Roy.. Doesn't that
smell good?  Dig in, pal."

And he deposited his offering in front of DeSoto,
sliding several napkins towards him, too.
He shoved the water pitcher to a far corner
of the table, well out of comfortable reach.

All eyes watched with amused horror as a sleepy
Roy cut a large biteful of the eggs and inserted 
them into his mouth.

Gage thought. ##3...2....1..##

But Roy kept chewing..slowly.. his eyes more
shut then open.

Chet couldn't resist. "Hey Roy?"

"Huh?"

"How's breakfast?"

"Oh..." Roy said, looking down at his salsa
covered hen's eggs.. "Fine.. I guess.."


Gage looked at Roy incredulously.. "Roy..
Aren't they kinda hot to you?..." he said,
aiming a butter knife at Roy's platter, with 
one cheek still big with bagel.

"Uh....."  DeSoto considered.. Then he mumbled
"...no?" he ventured..

"Holy cow..  That's crazy.. You're
tasters wwwaaayyy off... Cap here couldn't
even BREATHE around em.."
Gage whipped out his penlight and reached
out making a big show looking at Roy's pupils.
"You're not even an Apgar Three on the scale man..are
you slipping into a coma or something?"

Roy slapped Johnny's hand away laughing. "I'm not feeling
any pain eh? Well, at least these eggs won't go
to waste.. Marco...my compliments on your mother's
recipe.." he repiled, forking himself another hot sauce
smothered egg yolk.

"Gracias mi amigo.. At least I know who to cook for
now.." he glared at Cap.

Cap looked up from his very mild toast and butter.
"Sorry Lopez. I'm from a French neighborhood. Tame
palette I guess.."  he said apologetically.

Roy went on... "Maybe this numb brain thing will get
me through today with the miminum shift's torture."

Gage scoffed, "I highly doubt that.." pocketing his 
penlight.

Cap eyed Roy critically. "One of the kids keeping you
up, DeSoto..?"

John spoke up as he watched Roy drain yet another
mug of java. "Yeah,, the unborn one.. Joanne had
a ped bill Roy had to work off. He took on another
CPR class after the one I helped him on." he said.

Cap winced.."Ooo, tiring way to earn a few bucks.
Nothing like four hours of CPR demos to wear out
a guy.."

Roy shook his stiff arms.. "I would've been spared
if my buddy over here bailed me out again and helped 
me to teach it."

"One time's enough."

"Yeah?" Roy quipped, "That's only because you
got yourself that date from that one student, eh? 
Betty I think her name was." he chewed a few times
before asking, "How did it go?"

Gage didn't make eye contact as he swiped his plate clean
with a slice of bread. "I was at Eight's pulling extra
duty, or I'd been there pal.." he said, avoiding the
question.

Roy just grunted, angling his jaw with an amused smile.
"She dumped ya, didn't she..?"

The gang erupted in giggles again. Chet voiced
a score count. "That makes it... what? Six
strung and hungs this year, Johnny? What a tragic
track record. A real bummer."

Gage said, with unconvincing icyness, 
"Cut it out.. Kelly. Leave your prying OUT of my
love life.."

"What love l-?" Kelly started to say before
Cap pointed his all mighty index finger at
him to cease at once. 
Chet amended what he was going to say.
"...uh,  lingers, except for later, right? For the next 
time around? " he smiled wanely, covering his arse
and making an escape back into his paper.

Cap ended his challenging glare and continued
chewing. He shoved two pots of coffee in front 
of DeSoto. "Hey John,.. throw these in your 
pocket, eh..? Feel free to use them on him any time
you need to, pal." He said topping off Roy's mug
yet again.

A pack of smelling salts plunked into Gage's
hands as he reflexively caught what Cap sailed
his way. He laughed, brandishing them,
before pocketing them into his shirt.

Roy said sarcastically, "Oh. ha. ha."

-------

An alarm sounded, a long one, through 
every category of callout mode tones.
"Station 51, Station 8, Truck 137, Battalion
14. Multiple pileup on Hwy 101. Two miles east of
Roy Rogers State Park. Two miles east
of Roy Rogers State Park. Meteorological
weather station reports heavy fog in the 
vicinity. Time out.. 07:59."

Gage turned to Roy,... "Full moon's
true to form yet again.." and he pushed
out of his chair.

The gang made their vehicles and 
slipped into helmets, overcoats and 
seat belts.

"Station 51, Responding.. KMG 365."
Cap said, writing down the 10-20 on a pad
and handing off carbons to both Stoker 
and Gage.


They rolled out.


==========================


Ten minutes later Cap thumb motioned
for Stoker to slow down the engine 
travelling in front of the squad.  
He squinted through the thick musty 
smelling mist, boiling before him and ordered.
"Lopez, get out on the footrail and see if you
can see anything, okay pal?"

"Right, cap."  Marco stepped out of the
rear cab and hung onto a spot mirror.

Cap waved Mike to drive forward carefully.
Then he thumbed his radio. "Engine 51 to
Truck 137. We're two miles south of
mile marker 2 next to the south end
of the park. We can't see anything. Give
a directional blast on your airhorn, will ya?"

"Will do. We are at the first MVA to
the north. No victims as yet. We have
evacuated the area and are beginning
a washdown."

"10-4. Appreciate that." Cap replied.

All in the cab, strained to listen. So did
Gage and DeSoto in their truck.

A horn bellowed from fairly close away.

"That sounds like only a fifth of a mile."
He thumbed the mike, "Gage, DeSoto,
we're there."

"10-4, Cap." Roy said.

The paramedics and firemen bailed their
vehicles. 

Cap shouted to his men, "Fan out.
Start searching. There's no cliffs 
to speak of here. We're level with
the ocean on this stretch of the 
freeway."

That much was true. All the gang
could smell the tang of sea salt 
and could hear distant waves
echoing to them under the blanket of 
heavy fog.

Cap chose to relegate scene triage
to Battalion 14, who pulled up right
behind Squad 51.  Hookraider took
over the task, understanding Stanley's
decision was a sound one. Men were
needed to search cars. Even those with
captain's rank.
"Battalion 14 to Station Eight. Station
51's got the south end. Position your men
in the northbound lane, to mile marker
three. Number of effected MVA's,
unknown at this time."

Gage and Roy moved out, walking fast with
meager torches and their gear. Chet followed
them with stokes and O2, shouting.
"Can anybody hear me? Fire Department!"

Gage and Roy nearly fell over the first 
mangled car, gray, like the smothering
fogbank around it. 

Johnny saw a second red pickup on
its side a short distance ahead through 
the murk.
"Chet! Marco! Check out that truck!"

Roy tried the passenger door of the car
they had found but it was jammed.

"I got it.. Go check over there.." John
told Roy. John poked his head inside and saw
clothes. Two sets. "Cap! Get a K-12 
over here! I've got victims!"

Gage finished a brief check for gas,
then wormed into the narrow window up
to his waist. Glass crinkled under his gloves
as he found the driver. Gasping loudly, he
slid himself closer in the tight space 
next to the first victim.

The smell of blood was strong and something
else that was very bad. 

He felt for a carotid he knew wasn't there.
A definite sign of fully dilated pupils made
John's heart sink.

What he saw in the back seat was
even more tragic.

Roy leaned in the window looking in on Gage,
"That truck's clear. Everybody got out without
injury." he said, thick with concentration.
"How are they?" He couldn't quite, see inside.

John curtly shook his head, vacating the crushed car.
He waved Marco and Cap with the K-12 away
to the next vehicle. "She's been disemboweled.
Gone for too long. The toddler's DOA, too."

Roy glanced back at the impossibly flat
roof collapsed over the babyseat and 
saw two sneakers poking out. The only
thing he recognized. "Johnny.." he
gasped, clutching Gage's jacket
as the shock of another child's death
sank in.

John understood it was ten times
harder for Roy to see that kind of
fatality, having kids of his own.

He covered the mother and child up
with a blanket quickly, hiding the sight.
"Roy. Just move out. There's gotta be more
victims around here. Only a semi could do
damage like this.." he said of the gray
Honda.

Roy got on his walkie talkie, and mechanically,
John marked the car with flourescent orange 
search paint. Putting an X on roof and door. 
Swallowing, he put the symbols for two bodies
next to it.

"Cap, we've got two DOA's in the first car.
Second truck's clear but I'm smelling gas."
Roy reported.
 

Cap ran up waving on several stations' men
with 51's K-12 to take over the head of the 
searching. "I'm on it. Marco! Run two inch 
and a halves to cover any gas spills, Stoker,
you're with him. "
 
Then a chief from Station Eight pummeled toward 
them. In the gray gloom, his white helmet almost
appeared to be glowing.. "We've found all of them. 
Seven cars, one semi. Besides these two, here. One of
my men's found a Winnebago upside down 
along the guardrail. There's two little girls inside.
Their parents are fine."

"We're on it.." Roy said. "Cap have the guys bring 
our gear..!"  He put back on his helmet and grabbed
biphone and oxygen and followed the Station Eight
chief to the site.

"I'll get it myself.." Cap answered.  He ran back to the Honda
to collect the stokes and IV box. John followed to get
the defib and drug box.

Soon, John, the station eight man, Cap and Roy followed
an eerie trail of hissing cherry flares that acted as a 
beaconing line along the way. 
"Good thinking.." Gage said to the chief. "This is a faster way
of getting around in this stuff..." meaning the heavy 
fog that was around them.

-----------

Roy was the first one to arrive at the rolled 
camper. He was met by a dazed father who only had 
superficial contusions on temple and cheek. The man 
grabbed onto DeSoto's arm and begged him to let him 
inside the RV.. Roy physically peeled his fingers off, 
deciding the man to be a low priority case. "It's all right,
You're all right. They're still alive. I'm going in to check
them out right now. Just sit on the curb here and take
it easy! My partner will take a look at ya in a second."
He handed him off to Cap and crawled into the 
window the chief indicated.

Station Eight had already cracked it open and laid
overcoats over the glass.

-----------


John knelt by the wife, who was sitting supported by
Vince on the roadside. He glanced at the man
Cap brought over, knowing him to be the one a bit 
better off of the two.

John asked the burly motorcop, "Any of em injured?"

Vince said, "He seems ok. But the wife almost went out
on me twice, though." Gage took her face into one glove
and checked her over visually. There wasn't a mark
on her. He took her wrist into his hand, feeling her radial 
pulse. It was rapid, but strong. She seemed just out 
of a faint, leaning heavily on the officer.  

"My name's Johnny Gage, I'm a paramedic with the Los Angeles
County fire department. Are you feeling any pain anywhere?"

The wife stayed dazed, staring at the Winnebago.

John pulled an aromatic ampuole from his shirt.
He snapped it and waved it under her nose.
"Hey.. can you hear me..?"

The slender woman gave a shudder and whipped
her face away from the fumes of the capsule,
coughing. She peered around blearily, then focused
again on what she was looking at. Emotion flooded
back in a wave,
"My babies..! I have to get to my girls. They're still 
in there! I- I've got to help them.. The dresser pinned
them inside.." And she struggled in Vince's 
protective grip without thinking.

Johnny held her by the shoulders firmly.
Her struggles jostled his helmet and it fell off.
"Take it easy now! My partner's working on that. Now let's
just make sure you're all right before you move 
around so much, ok?" Gage said.

The clatter of John's helmet on the concrete
made Cap, by the chief, shout for his man he
couldn't see. "You ok over there?"

John answered.."Yeah..!"

The woman nodded, finally fully awake.
She calmed down as John softly spoke to her.
He told Vince, "Keep her upright. That's how you
found her, right?"

Vince nodded, "Yeah.. and the sergeant said she
was walking around earlier before I got here."

Gage strung cannulas of O2 set at six liters for both
husband and wife and began to get a set of
vitals for Rampart. As he worked, he glanced
over to the Winnebago, wondering what Roy
had.

-----------------

Roy found a jumble of furniture in his way.
Gasping, he shoved his way through and 
found the children. He waved the station eight man
monitoring them away. The man retreated back
out of the camper.

A tangle of wall and sheet metal
had wrapped the two girls up like pretzels.
One child's head wasn't visible and three
arms in pink stuck out from where they were.
It was hard to tell which limb belonged to
which child inside a hole in the debris for
both were wearing the same kind of clothes,
pink jumpers.

Reaching into the gap, Roy felt up the body of the
child whose head was hidden, to her face, feeling 
for breathing. His bare hand encountered wetness 
around her neck that was sticky, but cool. 
##This one's not bleeding that bad.## he thought.  
And he was satisfied with her rate of taking in air. 
He made sure she stayed breathing well by slipping 
in a child sized airway. Roy began to search for
the reason why the little girl was unconscious.

Shifting around, he grabbed one of the arms he thought
belonged to the hidden child.

There was a strong pulse in the brachial artery
that attested to a fair blood pressure , giving Roy
more reassurance that she was stable and not
critically injured. He shifted each girl slowly
apart from the other, without jarring neck or spine,
trying to find how they lay.
::They're so tangled up here.:: His effort failed.
The twisting metal made him give up the attempt.
He got on his walkie talkie, "Cap! These two girls 
are pinned in real good. We're gonna have to cut 
them out! I can't get good access to either one."

##We're on it, Roy. Hang tight. We're coming now.##

DeSoto finished his quick assessment on his patient.
He found no more blood stains on the girl. But it was
bothering him that he couldn't reach all of her to know
for sure, her true physical condition.

Roy moved to the conscious child, who was 
watching him with frightened silent eyes. 
DeSoto flickered fingers quickly at her eyes to see
which startled fingers moved in the debris so he could
identify the position of at least one set of hands.

"Hi.. How are you doing? My name's Roy. Pretty scary
in here, huh? "

She nodded, which told him her neck wasn't hurt.

DeSoto leaned back, setting his handytalkie behind
him while he pulled some closet partition out of
his way. He cursed again in his mind how flimsy
Winnebago materials were in the trailer.

"Don't go!" the girl cried.
She reached out and grabbed Roy's jacket.

"I'm not going to leave you alone. I'm here to care
for you and your sister right now." 
And he smiled at his small charge.

"Roy?"

"Yeah..!"

It was Cap, making his way towards where
the girls were trapped. "I got the gear.."

"Hand over the IV box first. We're gonna
have to get lines into both of them 
before we extricate either one."

Cap got to Roy's side just as he spoke
again to the frightened sister who began to
struggle when the splintered dresser boards 
above her began to creak.
"It's ok, honey. Just relax.. Someone's coming, that's all.
Mom and dad's just outside. This is my friend, Captain 
Stanley. He's a fireman like me. We're going to help 
get you and your sister out of here.. "

She said boldly. "He's not Captain Stanley.
He's really Abraham Lincoln.  I learned about
him in school." she claimed, voice hitching with 
nervousness. 

Roy and Cap exchanged ironic looks.
Hank mumbled, "Guess I do sort of
look like the man.." he said, scratching his head.

They spent a minute or two, leaning over their
young patients while they freed what they could
off the two children. But it was soon apparent 
Roy was right. The jaws were needed to do
any more.

The air in the tiny space slowly grew hot and stuffy
and made DeSoto feel every second in a torrid
grogginess, but soon, he bent over the unconscious 
sister to get a BP on an arm he had freed. He guessed
it was hers because of blood spatters on the sleeve.

Cap touched another tiny arm at random. "Is this one yours?"
he asked the tiny girl. He sing songed, moving fingers
on that limb testing for neural response. "This little piggy
went to market.. This little piggy stayed home.."
he sang.

The little girl giggled. "No, that's my sister's."
Cap kneeled near her face to get closer and to get more
comfortable in the small space. 

"Ahh!" she screamed.

Hank instantly froze. And lifted a loose board from where
he had been kneeling. A left leg was curled un-naturally
under her chin. 

There was no doubt whose limb this was.

"Roy.."

DeSoto took his stethoscope out of his ears
and saw where Cap was pointing.
"Is there a pulse in it?"

Hank removed a sandal and checked.
"Can't tell.. Hell, all of her's cold right now."

Roy said, "Hand me a hair traction splint.
"First thing, we're going to straighten that
limb out."

"With this metal in here like that?" He said
of a wound in the thigh. A three inch long stake of
side chrome stripping was embedded there.

"We have to. There can't be any bloodflow
in the leg with it being that dislocated.
I'll..think of something and work around that shard."
He thought for a few seconds. "I know. 
Immobilize it. Keep that piece from moving around. 
Use bulky dressings...or, some of that wall insulation.
Anything you can use."

"Right." 
After he was through, Cap slid drug box, IV 
box and defib next to DeSoto. 
"What can I do here now?"

Roy finished cutting away the pink 
shirt on the buried sister. 
"Get our awake little princess here on 
the monitor.. We can always use the paddles
to check her sister's EKG. It's the best way we
have to keep tabs on her vitals with her being
buried like this."

Cap nodded, and got out leads for his
patient. Then he handed Roy the defib paddles,
stretching their coiled cords across to him.

Roy threaded the paddles through his tiny access hole 
and set them on bare skin, an arm and a waist; the 
only places he could reach well. It was enough
contact; Cap and he got a wavering strip off 
the stilled girl.

"Bradycardia.. deep. Probably from that neck
bleeding. If a jugular's so much as bruised
you get a reading like this." he told Cap.

He got a second set of vitals on her and a
set on the frightened sister while Cap initialized 
two tie ins on the EKG monitor using
the pads and leads he set in place on the 
second child he was near.

"What's that?" she said as two sets of beeping
audios filled the air. 

Cap stroked the girl's cheek. "That is a heart 
TV.  It shows us you got one around in 
there somewhere." He peered, tapping on 
her chest gently.

She smiled, "And the other squiggly line is 
Cassie's TV?"

"Yep. That's right.."

"Cassie is your sister's name?" Roy asked as he
positioned a hair splint by the leg Cap and he
were about to move. It had completely slipped
his mind to find out the girl's names and to use them.

"Uh huh.." she nodded. "And I'm Robin."

"Nice to meet two such pretty young ladies. Do
you and your sister always wear the same outfits?"
DeSoto asked, while he blindly checked Cassie's neck
more closely for any lacerations he might have missed.

"Not always. But today is Cassie's birthday. And
we wanted to fool Grandma into getting our names
wrong again."

Cap said. "It's your sister's birthday?
Well, we're going to have to do something about 
that now aren't we, Roy?"


Roy looked up from his concentration, and flipped on
an instant, but tight, smile. "Yeah.."

"Really?"  Robin asked.

Another shaking of the debris around them
announced another fireman picking his way
into the camper. Stoker came near and passed off
an O2 apparatus to Roy, "This is eight's. Johnny's using
ours." 

"Thanks.."  DeSoto got out the unit's demand 
valve mask and started hyperventilating Cassie 
to get her heart rate to speed up.

Cap gave Robin a nasal cannula on a second O2 line
after showing her how it worked on himself. 
He adjusted it around her face. 

Captain Stanley heard the sound of a K-12 begin to
cut through the Winnebago's outer wall. A blade
protruded noisily, making Robin startle, but the saw 
retreated the second it got through the wall.

Roy's talkie buzzed, ##Cap? It's Kelly. We've 
gotten most of the way through. Get those girls
under cover.##

"10-4, pal."
Cap touched Robin's arm lightly. "Let's see.. something 
special for a very special birthday.. Hmmmm. I know.
Do you think Cassie would like to wear a fireman's helmet?  
We've got one for both you and her.."

"wow.." Robin nodded.

Cap and Roy flipped up their own overcoat
collars to shield themselves from the rain of saw
embers to come. Cap gave his helmet to Robin 
and Roy used his to make a roof over Cassie's 
face between two beams.
 
Roy nodded to Cap that he was ready for both 
the splinting and the saw.

Hank warned the little girl what they were going to do.
"You let me know the moment you feel anything 
like an owie when we move your leg..ok? And we'll
stop.." Cap told her.

Robin squeezed Cap's hand as her fright
mounted. She began to cry. "No.. I don't 
want t- to.. I want mommy.."

Her EKG sped up rapidly.

He leaned over Robin and smiled, "Hey, I 
know that. Roy knows that, too. But we
have to bundle you up first all safe and
sound before we get you out of here.
Ok? Now those men out there are going to
cut us a door. It's going to get a little loud. 
Think you can handle that?"

But Robin was beginning to drift and
didn't answer. Hank turned up the flow 
on her O2.

Cap gave the go ahead on the handy talkie
"Go ahead Kelly.. On the double!"

The sawing resumed, and showering orange 
sparks began to fall from above them 
that lit up the camper.


Roy was in his own private world. His mind
was racing with priorities and he was fighting
his own fatigue.  Wisps of oxygen from
the girls' masks would give him seconds of
clarity but they didn't last. ::Why didn't
I sleep a little longer last night. One more
hour would've done it..  Now.. Concentrate.
You aren't going to be able to contact 
Rampart until you're out of this confined
space...::he told himself. ::Focus..
Maintain Cassie's positive pressure ventilations
for a minute longer. Then get that circulation 
back into Robin's fractured leg.::


Roy gave Cassie a few more assisted forced air
shots then left the demand valve on passive, so 
that it fed a healthy stream of oxygen to her 
when she breathed in, automatically.

He turned to Cap and together they drew
Robin's hideously broken leg out from under her
face and down her body as easily as they could.

Robin screamed at one point and passed out. 
Her EKG sank into shocky sinus rhythm. A minute 
later, the task was done. The metal shard
in Robin's leg under the Cap's dressings
began to pulsate with each heartbeat
on Robin's monitor.

Roy smiled, "Ok, that's it. We did it, I think."

Cap checked his end of the splint,
fastening off the tension straps 
holding Robin's leg straight. "We did. Foot's
warming. "

DeSoto's smile faded, "Where's the
break at in that leg." he asked Cap.

Hank cut away the girl's pink slacks
around the straps. "Looks like
there's an exit wound in the middle
upper thigh. Femur.. and...another one
lower down by her ankle. There's a
deformity there, still."

Roy nodded, head back in Cassie's niche
as he resumed her forced O2, "So far so
good. That sounds like it was an open
fracture, which we reduced. That ankle
I'm not so much worried about. Is her thigh
any bigger than the other one?"

"No."

"That's good. At least she's not bleeding 
out inside that leg. Last thing we need is
an arterial bleed. We can't exactly get
a pair of mast trousers in here, now can
we?"

Cap caught the note of exasperation in 
his paramedic, "Easy Roy. We've done
what we can here. Now Kelly and the whole 
gang should get us out inside five minutes. "
He eyed the rain of sparks and their location.
"He's 3/4's the way around making us that door
right now."


--------------------------------------------- 

Outside Chet was sweating with effort behind
his face plate. Marco was anchoring his
shoulders while he cut into the Winnebago's 
side.

But then the rasping buzz of the K-12 
soured somehow with a sound of something
very much like static...

Marco smelled ozone..

"Chet! There's a live power line nearby!"

Chet turned but didn't stop cutting.
"One more second and I'll be through.."

"Chet!!"

A hanging wire from a broken, leaning telephone pole
that no one could see in the fog, swayed
in the rising wind of coming daylight.

A thick cable sparkled with blue fire, ionizing the air
before connecting with the wall of the Winnebago.. 

Current passed through Chet's sweaty gloves like
water and into Marco.

Both men were thrown backwards by the shock and fell
onto the road.

From where he was, Johnny Gage heard a crackling and
looked up, horrified, as a massive blue arch illuminated
the contorting forms of Lopez and Kelly.
"Chet!!  Marco!!"

He ran as close as he dared to where he thought 
they went down. He couldn't see them through the fog.
And he didn't dare move any closer. Ozone
nearly choked him.

He thumbed his talkie, "LA, this is Squad 51. Cut all
power to the Southbound Highway system, now!!"


-------------------------

In the RV, the sound of sawing stopped. Cap looked up
at the cutting outline and saw the job wasn't yet
complete. It had gone quiet out there. 

Roy met his puzzled gaze. "Must've hit a beam or something."
He was about to ask what was happening on the talkie
when the EKG on both girls soured suddenly in a downward
wave.

"What th--?" It almost looked like resolving defib on 
the monitor. His bare hand brushed the metal floor.
It tingled and he suddenly felt short of breath. He
jerked his hand away with an effort of will. "Cap!
The RV's being electrocuted! Get on your shoes' soles"

A sickening wash of ozone flooded the tight space Cap
Roy and the girls were in. They could now hear 
the crackling power striking the RV. They could
see lightning blue through the cracks of the sawed
wall.

Cap gasped, "What about the girls?"

Roy began grabbing the strewn dresser clothing 
around them. "Stuff insulation under them! If
we get a direct hit from that wire. It'll kill them.
They're touching this wall directly.."
He frantically put on his gloves again, avoiding the 
twisted metal around him and shoved sweaters,
pj's and towels under his patient. Cap did the
same for Robin. But before they could finish, a bright
flare of fire buzzed and the bucking powerline 
wire wedged in the crack the K-12 had made 
at the top of the wall.

The girls caught the whole backwash of 
electricity for a brief second before they
were insulated from the floor by Cap
and Roy.

The EKG rhythms plunged again, more deeply,
but they didn't flatline.

Roy ducked involuntarily and so did Cap 
at the angry energy snapping so near their 
heads. It was a near thing.

Then under DeSoto's hands, Cassie's chest 
failed to rise. "Cap! Check Robin. 
Her sister's just arrested."

He redoubled his ventilation efforts 
again, using the demand valve on Cassie, watching 
her EKG monitor intently. But there were 
no further downward spikes at all.

Their desperate mats of laundry had worked.

Captain Stanley caught something of Roy's sudden 
urgency over the hideous noise from the powerline. 
He reassessed Robin, and she too, was apneic. 
"Roy, she's going down. No breathing."


DeSoto handed Cap another pediatric oral airway and
told him how to insert it. But there was a problem.
Only one demand valve was available.

Hank improvised, starting to breathe for her, wearing 
the cannula in his own nose, using his own lungpower 
and the flow of O2 through him to keep oxygen in her 
body.
 
But there was a blessing even in the fetid darkness.
The two EKG's on the defib monitors still 
sounded off, like music to his ears.  

Roy didn't admit it, but part of the tingle he got
touching the metal floor underneath him had
jarred him physically. His eyes blurred as he
worked over Cassie. ::Shake it off. Shake it off.
It's just a headache.::

He knew the girls needed IV meds. And they needed them
right now. 

Cap got on his walkie talkie, crouched around Robin's head.

In between delivering breaths to Robin, he spoke, shouting. 
##LA, this is Engine 51. Emergency!##

"Go ahead 51."

##We're...........pinned down surrounded by 
live power lines. Cut power to the area immediately. 
Multiple victims.............are involved..##

"The power company has been notified. Two minutes to
shut down." dispatch replied.

Cap gave Robin another breath and looked up.
"How are we going to get med authorization?
You've got your hands full with that demand valve!"

Roy backed out of Cassie's niche. 
"Relay. Then get Gage in here!"

But before he could get back on his handytalkie he heard
a frantic Gage contact him. ##I heard ya on the horn! 
Hang tight. Chet and Marco are down! **a large
crackling of power**   Dammit!! I still can't get
to you or them! You're going to have to make
due without me!##


There was thudding sound as John threw away the talkie
in another attempt to circle around to get to his
fallen coworkers. 

Roy heard only static follow on his radio.

Cap and Roy were left alone, underseiged by the powerline
in the camper, but they kept working to maintain the girls.



Outside, Gage spotted another EMS crew appearing from the fog 
a few yards from the camper. He made sure he was heard and
seen by picking up and throwing one of the road flares in their direction. 
He pointed at the camper when the men turned to face him.
"Get my partner! He's in there! Live power line!!"

Then he jumped the guard rail, moving up onto
a hilly bank just visible to him in the mist. It was on a level
with the top of the rolled Winnebago.


John leaped on top of it, mindful of his fog damped shoes,
quickly dancing until he got his overcoat under his feet
insulating him from the deadly electricity surging under him.

Stoker, who had come running at Cap's frantic radio call,
handed him a shepard's crook. "Use it on them! Not the
cable!  Or the polymer will melt on you!"

Gage nodded, leaning on his stomach, over the edge of the camper's 
caved in roof. Mike tossed him a rope which he looped around the 
end of the crook.  He extended the pole, and snagged Chet's hand, 
the only thing sticking in the air against a piece of debris.

He jerked the line, tightening the noose and flung the line
back at Mike on the ground. Station eight's men dragged 
Chet out of the hose watered danger zone to safety.

Gage glanced over only long enough to see them roll 
him over onto his back before catching a new rope 
from Vince. His toss at Marco's foot, missed. His next 
toss caught him across the face, awakening him 
with its rough sting.

"Ughhh!"

"Marco, Listen to me! Grab the rope!"
Marco contorted with each shock from the wire but he still
had wits enough to hook an elbow around Gage's looped line.

Johnny leaped back onto the grassy rise and hauled Lopez
towards him away from the watery pavement. 
He got Marco to his feet and they got out of there.
"I got ya. I got ya.."

Lopez locked into an involuntary spasm just as Gage and others
got him back over the guard rail. He dropped in their arms
and was quickly lowered to the ground and held carefully
so his head didn't abrade on the concrete while he shook.
"Ah.. it hurts so bad!"  His breath was squeezed out of his 
body by a great steel band of his own muscles. *choke*......
The world retreated for long seconds before the convulsion left 
him as quickly as it came. His vision came back. Marco
saw a ring of faces over his. And one he recognized.
"..ugh.. Johnny.?..*gasp* H-How's Chet.?"

John looked over across the road from where he was crouched over
Marco. He could vaguely make out the outline of a Pasadena FD 
back bobbing up and down. "They're working on him." 

"uh no...." Lopez said, slinging an arm over his face.

"They got to him fast enough now just worry about yourself
for once, all right?" John said sharply. " Mike.. Get the stokes!"  
Gage shouted. "I want him near me and the gear boxes!"

John tried some levity as he undid Marco's overcoat and cut
through his shirt with clothes shears from his hip holster 
when he saw that its buttons had fused together.
"If your breakfast wasn't hot enough this morning. It sure is now..
Your hair's curlier than Kelly's."

Lopez groaned. Gage wasn't all sure that it was laughter.
He kept a hand on Marco's chest. "Can you breathe, ok?
That was some jolt you took there." 

"*cough* y- yeah.."
Marco tried to straighten out his body.  But then an even stronger
muscle spasm curled him up into an agonizing ball.. "Ahhhh!! 
Gage..Make it stop!!... It's killing me..." he sobbed.

"Easy, Marco.. There's meds I can give ya to do just that
But you're going to have to wait..You've been one upped by Chet
here. Stone!" he shouted to a Pasadena man he recognized, 
"Get him on some O2 will ya..?" 
He said, pointing at Marco. "Put him on fifteen liters, non 
rebreather. Bring a bite stick. His convulsions won't resolve."
Johnny turned Marco onto his side before the next spasm
could make him ill. "The O2 will deal with some of your nausea
ok?"
 
Marco lost focus and stopped writhing as the spasm 
quit shaking him like a dog with a rag. He drifted.

"Hey.."
John looked down at Lopez's pale face. He was now half out, but still
moving air. "See you in a few minutes." He lingered only
long enough to see the new EMS team insert a bitestick and
start up his order of O2. "Marco. Hang tough. I'll be right back!"
Johnny shouted as he stood up.

Gage took off at a run to get to Kelly's side. 

Stoker, Vince, Station Eight's chief and Vince's partner,
Garner got Marco into the stokes and brought him
across the road to where Chet lay on the ground. Station
eight's men were performing CPR on Kelly and using their
own resuscitator to give ventilations.

John thunked down onto his knees and checked out Chet's 
pupils with his penlight around the demand valve mask without 
getting in that fireman's way. "They're reactive."

He knew things weren't going to be easy. Roy had
the squad's defibrillator. "Damn..if only we had another
defib box." he mumbled. 

Then Vince spoke up. "There's one in the lifeguard tower
station on the beach.." Vince peered about. "We're at mile 
marker two, aren't we?"

The Chief nodded. "Where exactly is that station?"

Vince thought hard. "It's about twenty five meters off 
the park entrance at the south end. It's a base station. 
There should be guards there now."


"Well what are you waiting for?!"  Gage said, listening to 
how the oxygen from the positive pressure mask was 
perfusing in Kelly's lungs with his stethoscope around the 
CPR man.

The Chief ordered, "Get a move on....!" he pointed to two men. 

"Yes sir..!"  Two firemen ran towards the direction of the 
ocean's waves. They disappeared into the fog.

Gage shouted suddenly, "Hold it.. hold it..!"  gesturing to the ventilator.
"Chet's distending too much. I'm not getting any good 
volume in his lungs at all now. On the count of three, we'll roll him.."

At the end of a set of chest compressions, Kelly was turned on his side,
with his head tilted back.  John pressed Chet's hugely air swollen
stomach carefully, and the lung constricting air expelled back out 
of his mouth. When he finished, John swept inside Chet's mouth 
with a finger. It came away clear.
"All right.. back over. Back over.. He didn't get sick."

CPR continued. Gage nodded at the return of vents inside Kelly's chest.
He pulled off his stethoscope, and sighed.

John saw the powerline still arching in the Winnebago wall.
He saw Truck 127's crew circling it, still separated from
Roy and Cap. They were stymied.
"Damn it. I wonder why the power company's taking so long.."

He saw one of Eight's men plunk the squad's biphone right
in front of him and another unit's drug, trauma and IV boxes.
"Where did you get that?! " he said incredulously happy. 

One of the men answered. "Station Eight's. But they've gone
with the defib, They had a touchy OB in labor to the hospital. 
Stone said you might be needing this." 

"Good enough."
 
He picked up the receiver and hailed Rampart.

"Rampart this is squad 51. How do you read?"

As if on cue, the power was cut to the writhing wire 
above them and its burning end went black. It settled
to the ground.

A new saw advanced on the camper immediately.

John nodded with satisfaction, thumbing his walkie talkie.
"Roy, they're coming in!!"


-----------------------

The base station next to the front desk was empty,
until the red light began to flash.

Dixie McCall looked up from her slate at the sound
of the incoming transmission's double buzz. She flagged
down Joe Early coming out of treatment three.
"Joe.." and she pointed with her pen.

Dr. Early went into the glass enclosed room and
toggled the switch on the radio after starting 
the recording machine. "Unit calling in, please repeat."

"Rampart this is Squad 51."

"Go ahead 51."

"Rampart, we have six victims at a multiple MVA. 
Two Code I. Two are still inaccessible.  Two superficial.
Victim one and two are victims of electrical shock.
Victim one. Negative vital signs. We're administering CPR. His arrest
was witnessed. Victim two is semiconscious and suffering from
severe muscular convulsions with moderate respiratory distress.
He is stable. Victims three and four are children, trapped inside a trailer. 
Roy is with them now with a hand held radio, linked to you via 
dispatch. Victims five and six have minor cuts and abrasions." 
John reported.

Joe early read the notes he took down. "Go ahead with victim one."

Gage looked over to the men working on Chet.
"10-4,Rampart, " Johnny swiped sweat off of his lip as he talked,
"Chet's CPR has been ongoing for four minutes. We've had problems 
with distension, request permission to insert an esophageal airway."

"Go ahead 51. Then defibrillate at 400 watt seconds."

John lip's set into a frustrated line, "Negative on the defibrillator, 
Rampart. We don't have one. A lifeguard station is nearby. We're 
waiting for beach lifeguards to respond with their equipment."

Joe saw Kel walking by and motioned for him to come into the room
curtly then added,  "10-4, 51. Start an IV D5W, TKO. Continue CPR.
Administer one amp Sodium Bicarb. Then 5 cc's 1/10,000 mg 
epinephrine IV Push. "

"10-4. IV D5W TKO, one amp Bicarb, 5cc epinephrine IV. Inserting
an esophageal airway.." Gage repeated to his attending doctor.

"Standing by." Dr. Early replied. He nodded to Dr. Brackett and
handed him his notes and a transcript of the first minute
of 51's call.  Kel continued reading intently.

Joe said, "There's no defibrillator there. 51's working on it. They
said they'll have one soon."

Brackett said, "Six victims? Must be a bad one."

Joe grunted and waited for his paramedic to come back online.

Slinging the phone receiver and cord over his shoulder,
Johnny grabbed a laryngoscope and an EOA. He 
bit his lip as he threaded it into Chet's throat, down
the scope's guide groove and into his stomach. He was 
almost afraid that there'd be swelling from his evac earlier 
but there wasn't any at all. 
The tube settled to its end mark, effortlessly.
 
"Ok."  He said to the man with the respirator. The valve 
was reconnected to the airway tube a second later. 
John listened to Chet's ribcage. 
"Ok, give him a shot." 
Kelly's chest rose. Gage heard good breath sounds on the left side. 
He shifted his stethoscope over to the other side. 
"Again." he nodded.
He heard pure air sounds there too and no gastric bubbling. 
The tube was in place properly, he inflated the airway's gastric
bulb. "We got it. Continue the CPR."

He got an IV line in on sheer blind luck into Chet's inner arm vein
at the crook of the elbow. He ran the D5, and then squirted air
out of the epinephrine needle before injecting it into the IV's
rubber port. "Anything?" John asked when he was through.

The fireman at Chet's head checked for a carotid. He shook his
head.

Gage cursed with more than a little frustration,
 "You're making it hard for us... Chet, I was only kidding about 
the full moon thing." he said, setting the IV bag under Chet's 
shoulder.

John then got out the Bicarb ampoule and prepared and injected
that blood neutralizer into the IV line. "He'll need a truckload. He's
been down forever." he mumbled. "Where are those lifeguards..?"

On cue, two people, a man and a woman in red shorts and jackets
ran up to them being led by the chief's men. They had a white box
with them. They crouched by Gage and the crew. The youngish
athletic man spoke, "I'm Lt. Craig Pomeroy. This is Jill Riley, senior
lifeguard. Heard you needed this."

John smiled and grabbed it. "You're beautiful!" He flipped open
the lid with a flourish and his face fell. "What th-?"

He got out the phone in the same motion.
"We have a defibrillator, Rampart. But it's a type I've never seen
before."

"What model is it?" Joe asked, puzzled.

"I couldn't tell you, doc..." Gage said quite honestly.
He heard Kelly Brackett emit an oath in the background.

Dr. Early went on, "Any chance of finding another defibrillator?"

Craig spoke up to the fireman/paramedic. "I'm authorized to use 
this pack, sir. It's an automatic unit. It'll assess whether or not 
he's receptive to countershocking."

John shouted eagerly, "Hold on, Rampart!" He set the phone down
setting fingers on the woman lifeguards' arm. "Wait a sec. You said
it determines heart recapture optimums?"

They both nodded.

"Rampart, ah,.. The Lifeguard lieutenant here says he's fully 
trained on it. And that it has conversion analysis.
What should I do?" Gage asked, breathless.

Brackett slammed the button down, "Do whatever it takes, 51. He's
running out of time!" he growled.

Johnny nodded. "10-4." Then he looked to the Baywatch lifeguards.
"You heard the man. Do it."

Quickly, Jill and Craig threaded two huge padds that were attached
to the strange looking monitor. There was no EKG screen to speak of,
Gage thought. Until he saw a digital one pop on a screen the second the leads
hit skin. Then they touched a green switch on the side of the device.

A computerized synth voice spoke,
---Stand Clear. Stand clear-- analyzing patient.. --

Johnny took the lifeguard's cues, motioning, and all the firemen lifted 
their hands from Chet.         

--No signal. Continue CPR.--

The team resumed their resusitation.

"What's that mean? Why didn't it fire?" Johnny asked.

Jill reset the device.. " It means your bicarb hasn't had a chance to 
neutral this man's acidosis. When did you give it to him?"

"Three and a half minutes ago."

"Then it won't be long until the pack determines viability and defibrillates.
It won't shock a heart in the wrong chemistry. Saves damage to the
patient. Back off everyone." Craig ordered.

Again the crew stood off.

---Stand Clear. Stand clear-- analyzing patient--

Everyone held their breaths.

--Countershocking.--

        *Shock* 
Chet Kelly's torso lifted only slightly, almost gently
under the box's new kind of direct delivery system.

---No Pulse. Continue CPR.--

Johnny's patience hit a breaking point. "Damn it!" Gage sharply
motioned for the CPR team to begin working again.

Jill reassured Johnny.
"The bicarb is working. Soon, his blood will be prepped enough
for the pack to deliver another shock. It'll be another ten seconds."

Gage grabbed her arms, "Wait a minute. Are you saying that 
right now, Chet's system is still too acid for that thing to work?
    
Craig put his hands on his knees, "Yes."

Gage smiled, "Hang on....  Rampart, There's still no conversion 
after one countershock. We're showing deep flatline on the pack."
::Come on, docs, guess what I'm guessing..::

"Hmm,..Sounds like his blood is still too acid. Give another amp 
Sodium Bicarb." Joe said finally. 

::Yes!:: Gage thought happily. But then Brackett came on.
 
"Gage, we'll need to bump him up into coarse V-Fib again. 
I am personally authorizing you to give 2 cc epinephrine 
Intracardially."

Johnny's face fell and he gaped, slowly, "Hold on. Rampart, IC?  
I've never done one in the field."

"I have full confidence in you, Johnny. You've seen me do it enough
times."  Brackett said.

Gage licked suddenly dry lips. "Uh,..10-4, one amp Sodium Bicarb, 
then 2cc epinephrine IC. Stand by."

The bicarb load was in and empty when John got over
being stunned about what he was being asked to do.

Johnny drew open the paper off the premixed syringe. He 
motioned with his head to the firemen around him. "All right.
Stop the ventilations." He fingered the proper position into the 
cartilage between the third and fourth ribs and cleared the six
inch needle of any air.

Jill Riley looked away as the long needle plunged down.

Gage advanced the cath until he felt one pop, then two.
"All right, I'm through the chest wall, nnghh.. and 
the pericardial sac.." then he felt a tenuous 
third resistance in the needle, ventricle tissue! "There!"

He pushed the plunger until all of the amber fluid in
the chamber was gone. He held his breath and withdrew
the needle back the way it came and looked at the tip 
of it. It was all there. Nothing had broken off.

He sighed, passing off the spent syringe to the needle
bin in the Drug box. Then nodded for CPR to resume. 
John sat back onto his butt, rubbing his mouth in relief. 
"I did it. I actually did it."

The lifeguards continued where he left off.
The green button was pressed again.

----Stand clear. Stand clear--analyzing patient--

More than one man crossed their fingers.

--Countershocking.--
    
       *shock*

----Pulse detected. Pulse detected...  Detach unit's power source.--

The last line of the computer's voice was drowned out by 
cheers from all the rescuers over Kelly as his chest began
to rise and fall.

Johnny snatched the phone to his mouth.
"Rampart. We have a Ventricular rate of about 30."

It was Brackett's turn to sigh and tremble a tad. "Good work
Johnny. You saved both my professional reputation, and
yours. Think we should add that little trick to the 
Paramedic manual?"

Gage just grunted in the negative.."Hell no. My nerves are shot!!"

But he could almost hear Brackett grinning through the biphone line.

Joe early added, "51, start an IV of an Isoproteranol Drip, and the rest of 
the bicarb. Continue O2 and monitoring. Transport as soon as possible.
Send us a strip lead two."

Jill turned a toggle on the pack for Gage and a few other
dials he didn't understand and said, "This will be lead two."

=========================================>

Brackett and Early grinned at the unfamiliar voice but
bent over the paper roll feeding out of their
relay monitor. "Looking good, ...maam. " Kel joked. 
"Johnny, Increase the drip until his rate's around seventy, will you?
We'll wait on his vitals until you've treated victim two."

"Affirmative, Rampart."  He finished his med order on Kelly and
then turned his attention to Marco behind him.  


-------


Lopez still had good color and was moving slightly.

Gage looked to the Pasadena man who was carefully watching 
Marco's breaths steaming under the mask. 

"Is he still having spasms?" Johnny wanted to know.

"Yes."
  
On cue, Lopez twisted up, in one arm and leg on the
same side.  "Tonic convulsions now?" Gage wondered.
John shouted, "Marco! Can you hear me?"

His coworker's face didn't change. 

Johnny got closer to his ear. "Marco!"  But Lopez
didn't react. Johnny checked out his pupils. Then on
a thought, rubbed a knuckle into his sternum.

Marco twitched and fingers moved slightly on
the relaxed hand. But that was all.

Johnny relayed what he had found, "Rampart Victim 
Two's Marco Lopez. He's semi conscious and
diaphoretic. Respirations are labored at...." he paused
to check. Then Gage was surprised to see the two
lifeguards stringing a different patch from the auto
defib unit of theirs to Lopez's bare shoulder.

Pomeroy shrugged, "Your doctor is going to 
want to see how he's doing..too."

Johnny smiled, "Fair enough." he said, muffling the
phone mouth piece. Then he finished his report,
"Respirations are 26 and irregular. He's having 
frequent seizures in his lower body and extremities. 
The spasms started all over him when we first got him 
free but now seem to be confined to the left side 
of his body. He's on fifteen liters of O2. Additional 
vitals to follow.."

Early wanted to know. "51, Sounds like the electricity
travelled down his central nervous system from the
contact point and has disrupted neural
activity on that side. I want a BP from
that arm. What's his heartrate?"
 
"Pulse is...120 and irregular,
BP is....*sigh* .. Stand by for the BP."

Gage got a reading quickly by stepping his foot
on the twitching hand  on Marco's left side while Jill
and Craig helped hold the arm still for him, restraining
it at shoulder and wrist.
"....BP is......Hold him,... 92 over 50." He reported,
pinning the phone to his ear between his shoulder and face.

Marco began to gag slightly in his stupor. But there was
nothing left in his stomach to lose. He only had weakened
dry heaves as he lay on his side, gasping tightly around
them.

John slid his free hand to Marco's neck, pulling his larynx
up a bit in his thumb and fingers to see if his breathing 
evened out. It didn't.
Johnny added. "Rampart, Marco's getting stridorous.
I think the petite mals are having an impact. And he's 
really nauseated and he's getting a bit cyanotic."


"Try an esophageal airway, 51.." Joe ordered.

"Negative, Rampart. He has a gag reflex." Gage said.

"What's his response to pain stimuli?" Dr. Early asked.

"Somewhat to pain, nothing to verbal cues. And he's now 
showing no signs of voluntary movement on his 
uneffected side."

Joe considered, then asked, "51, is he still vomiting at all?"

"Negative.. his stomach appears to be empty."


Dr. Brackett laid down the plan. "Hmm. Johnny, sounds like he'll
tolerate a nasopharyngeal airway. Go ahead and intubate
him. It should help his air intake and keep him from 
aspirating any bodily fluids."

"10-4."
Gage nodded as the lifeguard Craig anticipated his need
and handed him one already out of its wrap. He nodded
thanks, while he listened to the rest of Kel's instructions.

"....Send us a strip. I want to see what's happening
to his cardiac functioning."

Jill took off Marco's O2 mask and held it near but out
of Johnny's way.

Johnny gel-ed the nasal airway and guided it through 
one of Lopez's nostrils and down, until it was in place
fully. He checked its positioning in the back of his throat
with a penlight, peering into Marco's mouth.
Then he replaced the bite stick in between his involuntarily
clenching teeth.
"All right. Get that O2 back on him."...

Jill complied.

He listened for a moment, molding the mask carefully
around Marco's nose and mouth and the seizure stick, 
then smiled as his labored gasps eased off and began slowing. 
"Ok.. he's set. It's working."
He picked up the phone, "Doc, his breathing's levelling
off. Respirations are 14 and deep." he nodded with satisfaction.
"He's in better color too."

 Gage pointed to Jill, and
she sent Marco's telemetry to the hospital as she had done 
with Chet's readings.

Brackett eyed Lopez's strip as the audio feed danced
in its soft wavering pitch, filling the base station's tiny room. 
Dix held her breath, and so did Joe. 

Kel finished reading the strip, and one
of his eyes twitched as he toggled the sending talk button.
"51, I'm getting only minor ventricular irregularities. Your fireman's
one lucky man. Looks like the jolt he took was only
of moderate intensity. His nausea's not cardiac related. It's most likely
due to pyschogenic shock. Give .5 mg Atropine ,  IV, 51. 
And start an IV of D5W, TKO to get him out of it."

Johnny replied, grateful at the news, "10-4, doc, .5 Atropine
in a D5W IV to keep open."  He tore a bag out of its paper and
strung a line in after nabbing a vein.
He splinted the tubing and the catheter in Marco's arm 
with an IV board, so it wouldn't be torn free in his seizuring.
Then he added the atropine.

Lopez began to shiver differently 
and the convulsions on his left began to spread to his other side. 

Jill cushioned his head in her hands but other firemen replaced her
gentle manual restraint with two sand bags that worked even better.

Gage got on the phone quickly, "Rampart. Atropine is in,
but ah,.. his convulsions seem to be getting worse.
And more frequent."

Dr. Brackett, "It's a tough tradeoff, 51. Atropine for 
that good air exchange. But increased tremors."
He mumbled off phone to Joe. "Damned if
you do, damned if you don't.."  He got back on the line.
"All right Johnny.. We're going to find middle ground.
Draw up 25 milligrams Diazepam..for an IM only."

Gage frowned, rocking back on his heels, grumbling
at his only viable option. He knew what the doctors 
were asking him to risk. ::Great.. first Kelly's IC, now
this..::

Kel went on, "Watch him closely. The Diazepam's going to
depress his breathing every step of the way.
You're going to inject five cc's at a time until he's just at
the point where the tremors cease. Got that? Five cc's
for every fifty pounds body weight. You lose lung draw
and we're in trouble."

"10-4. Diazepam IM. Five cc per fifty. Stand by."

"Standing by."

Johnny wasn't happy. He knew the risks of losing
Marco's respiratory ability were high due to 
his shock; let alone those incurred from his having  
a downer drug used on him.

Coma couldn't be far away if Gage over shot
his mark.
 
He closed his eyes, holding the needle and shot of 
muscle paralyzer up between his chilled hands
as he tried to recall what he had heard Lopez joke 
about his weight a week ago while he was standing on
the station's scale. "Now what did you say Lopez..?
185?..190 pounds?"  He couldn't clearly remember.

"Damn.." he cursed, grabbing up his talkie. "Squad 51 to
Engine 51. Come in."

Captain Stanley answered, "Gage? Is that you?
Hurry up.. We've got two respiratory 
arrested girls in here."

"Hold on, Cap. I'll be right there. But Marco needs
treatment right now more than they do. You've got
the kids maintaining just fine from the sound of it.."
Johnny said. He could hear Roy's positive pressure vents
 and Cap's mouth given breaths plainly. "Right now I 
need to know Lopez's exact body mass.."

Cap grabbed up the radio closer to his
free ear, "What did you just ask?
The saw's too loud in here!"

"Roy .. Cap!.. how much does Lopez weigh? How heavy is he?
Brackett's got me anesthetizing Marco to control
petite mals. Now...How many pounds do 
you remembering seeing in his file from last week,
Cap? I can't do this at all unless I am absolutely 
right on or he'll get real sour on us real fast."

Cap said, "I don't honestly know, Gage.... Roy?"

DeSoto wiped sweat from his eyes. His head
was pounding from the remnants of the electrical surge
he took through his fingers on the floor.
His mind raced, then he snatched the radio away from
Cap and hollered, "Chief, get one
of your men in here right now to take over for me.
My partner needs me out there ASAP.. Johnny I'll
be right there..!."

A minute later, Stone wormed his way to Roy's side
and took over Cassie's resuscitation effort.

Roy put a hand on Cap's shoulder as he worked
over Robin. "I'll be right back. Call me if either
of their EKGs so much as twitch.."

He left his radio on Robin's stomach, within
Cap's easy reach.  Hank nodded as he placed
another seal over the child's lips and blew her
another careful breath.

Roy made sure Cap had enough oxygen 
flowing through the cannula on his face
to go through him and then to the child.
"Got to remember your trick for the books."
he quipped.

That simple statement made Hank
relax a whole nine yards.


Roy felt comfortable then with leaving the 
four of them in the camper.

==========


DeSoto stumbled out into the fog. He found
Gage and Kelly and the Pasadena group by following
the flares glowing on the road.

He arrived too fast and banged into Gage. 
He lost his balance.. squatting down
near him over Marco's writhing form.

Gage looked at him "Hey, easy! I almost stuck you..." He
said, whipping the needle away from Roy.

"S-Sorry.." Roy coughed, rubbing his eyes to clear them.

Johnny looked a little more closely at
Roy, "You ok?  I know you're better than me at this,
but if you're too tired...."

"I- I'm fine.. Give it here." 

Gage studied Roy's sweaty face for a moment, and noticed
a stench coming from him. Burned flesh.. "Hey.." he took
up Roy's arm, "Where did you get that burn..?"

"It's nothing.. I... touched some hot metal when I got
too near the K-12.." he lied. Marco needed him to act.
Now.

"You sure you're all right?" Gage said, still hanging onto
Roy's jacket.

"Yeah.. I'm fine.." DeSoto said.

Something about his conviction fooled Johnny. He
studied Roy's face a moment longer,
then slowly handed DeSoto the syringe. "ok.." he said.

Johnny picked up the phone. "Rampart, Roy's going
to do it. He's got a better idea of how much Lopez
weighs."

"Get on it, 51. Every minute with those convulsions is
another minute too many." Brackett said.

Roy's brain fuzzed as he swabbed down the fleshy part
of Marco's flank. "He said... he weighed.. 81 kilos..
in the gym.. Joked about how it was the same weight
as our punching bag..." he whispered to himself.

"What?"

"Shhhhh" Roy said, wiping moisture from his 
upper lip. "He said.. 81 kilos... I'm certain of
it.. that's why he looked so funny working out with 
it. It kept knocking him around..
.. Yeah.. I remember laughing at him trying to 
keep on his feet.."  

Gage nodded, smiling slightly."He's not much of a Mohammed 
Ali, I take it, eh? Only 81 kilos? " then he clammed up.
Johnny occupied himself with taking another BP 
on Marco's still arm, mentally kicking himself for 
distracting Roy. He began pumping up the BP cuff.

Even that small snicking valve sound
intruded badly upon Roy's concentration.
He took a deep breath trying to ignore it.
::..now, how many pounds is 81 kilos..?::
He did a mental calculation and then said out loud
to Johnny with a short nod of his head.
 "Injecting.. .. Inj  uh,..25 cc's...Diazepam..IM."
And he stuck the needle into muscle, pushing
the plunger to drain to the zero remaining line.

Gage looked up, ripping his stethoscope out
of his ears.. "Roy?! Did you just say 25..?"
He whipped up Roy's hand off the syringe 
still impaled in Marco's hip, gasping.
He jerked out the needle and flung it away 
quickly,  but it was too late..."Roy..
81 kilos is only 178.5 lbs!  The dose should have 
been dif---!.."

The absolute horror that rose in Roy's face 
transferred to his own. 
Roy began to tremble, but automatically,
he felt Lopez's chest for air movement. 
Marco breathed still, but shallowly.
He got out his penlight and looked very quickly
at Lopez's eyes. The pupils were fixed and dilated.
He pointed to them, his face a tortured mask,
dropping his shining pen light. The bulb 
shattered on the pavement.

Gage knocked Roy's hands
away fiercely using his own light to see
and saw the undeniable sign there too.

Coma..

Johnny was stunned, but brought the phone 
numbly to his mouth, "Rampart.. we have
a problem.. I think..we made a...a ..mistake.."

Brackett looked up sharply from his notepad.
"What do you mean, Johnny? Talk to me.."

Simultaneously, Roy reacted.
"Oh my god.. Johnny, what have I done..?" 
The moment proved too much. DeSoto's 
head fuzz reared up as he tried a futile denial.
Then his brain refused to function any longer.
Roy slumped to the ground, letting the rising 
black from his near jolt of electricity claim him.


"Roy?!"  John shouted. He flung out a hand.


But Jill and Craig were faster. They caught
the fair haired paramedic before his head hit
the ground.

Craig told him. "He's fine. He's fine. I got him."
he said after a check of his carotid. "He's just
out cold. I don't see anything more than that.."

Brackett's demanding voice shouted at their
feet. "51! What's going on over there! This man's
EKG has just hyperbolically levelled. He's overdosed.
He's down too deep."

Gage picked up the receiver. "Doc.. Roy ...
injected 25 cc's. Way too much.."

Joe didn't hesitate, "2.5 cc Narcan..Push it."

"Doing it.." Gage got the universal drug
antidote from the box and used it. "Come on,
Marco.. Snap out of it.. Nap time's over.."

He watched a fireman increase an ambu bag's 
delivery of controlled 100% O2 to Marco 
a few more notches. The Pasadena man 
had begun using one when he had first heard 
the word "overdosed."

But the EKG remained at its suppressed
eerily slow, uniform sinus rhythm, the earmark
of the coma state.

Brackett announced over the landline, "No conversion.
Keep hyperventilating him, Johnny. And put DeSoto
on the line, I want to talk to him."

"I can't doc,.. He's out cold. He may be injured
from his trying to get to the other victims.
He's got a burn I didn't check out very well."
He groaned in anger as he saw other marks of charring
soot on his skin that Craig had uncovered as he opened Roy's 
shirt to monitor him.
"I think he might have tangled with the 
same powerline that took out Chet and Marco."

Joe toggled the speaker when Kel didn't 
respond to Gage right away. "10-4,
51. Monitor DeSoto and treat for shock. 
Listen to me.  I want you to stay focused.
We'll work out all of this later.
Give me another set of vitals on Marco
and get him set to transport. Now...
I want to know about victims 3 through 6 in
triage priority.."

"10-..10-4.. Rampart..."
Johnny said mechanically. "Cap's with
victims 3 and 4 now, I've just learned,
they're two girls in respiratory arrest."

"Give me a man with them who can get
me their vitals.." Early said.
 
"Stand by.." Gage once more got on his radio.

======


The rest of the rescue was a blur to Johnny.

The tremendous load on Johnny
as senior assessor was soon halved shortly after
Roy collapsed.

Gage remembered the side of the Winnebago 
being finish cut and pulled free and then a new station's 
paramedics rushing in to relieve Stone and Cap's
ventilations of the two girls. With a firm tie to
Rampart, the injured children's conditions were 
stabilized rapidly, and Cassie and Robin, with their 
parents, were transported out by Mayfair rig 
ten minutes later.

That completed,
Johnny could focus on the full implications 
of events with Marco, Roy and Kelly.


==========


In a second red lighted speeding rig,
Chet awoke enough to spit out his
airway en route. Johnny leaned over
him just in time to hear him complain about 
his head aching and about his chest that somebody
had used both as a trampoline and as a stone
for the preverbial sword..

Gage winced, rubbing his own chest, imagining
what it must be like for Chet, having a fresh 
six inch needle puncture wound down heart deep. 
"You have no idea the trouble we had 
to go through to save your butt, Chet. Just be grateful
you're still breathing.." he grinned lopsidedly.
 
"Ohhhh...ow."
Then Chet asked about Marco as his memory
returned. "How's Lopez? My god, I swear I could hear
his mustache sizzling just before I blacked
out." he laughed a short laugh before the
painful reminders of his rescue, shut him up.

He turned his head, seeing his familiar 
coworker firefighter lying next to him on 
another stokes.

Gage deflected masterfully, with his smile 
locked in cement with all the skill of the 
paramedic hiding bad news.
"Worry about yourself and that halo you
narrowly avoided, Chester B." Gage said,
firmly planting the O2 mask back over
Chet's face.  "That's your first concern."

Kelly blinked, twice, shoving his O2 mask onto his 
forehead, thinking.. "Ok, Lopez is entitled to a little 
confidentiality. But what's HIS story?" the curly haired 
fireman said, pointing to a third stokes Johnny
was leaning his rear on in the crowded ambulance. That
one held Roy's dusty, limp form. Kelly saw that
he, too, was on precautionary O2, but no IV hung over
his head.

Naturally, Chet assumed the lightest possible
outcome to that scenario.
"Don't tell me the sandman caught up with DeSoto
during my rescue?" Chet laughed weakly. "Now
that would be REALLY embarrassing..Glad I 
wasn't awake for that little blunder.." he chuckled.

Kelly actually saw Johnny suddenly wince at his words
and look away..

The haunted look in Johnny's eyes sobered
Chet more than the water did from the Phantom's
revenging can sprung a year ago.
 A sick feeling gripped Chet that had nothing to do 
with his near brush with death. "Gage. What is it that 
you aren't telling me?"

John fiddled with both Chet and Marco's EKG
settings before he replied in the softest of voices.
"I don't know how in the world I could possible
begin to tell you what happened Chet.. I
can't believe it really happened m- mysel--.."
he admitted, his strong baritone cracked
with emotion. "You see.... Marco needed
a drug to stop his seizuring. Roy was
so tired.. and I didn't see how tired he was..
I let him take over.. And... he .." Gage 
looked down at his soiled hands, "..gave him..
too much..."  

Kelly rose up onto his shaking elbows. "What?"
in utter disbelief, then a few seconds later,
in denial, 
" Johnny.. even with an OD, I've seen you 
use that stuff, what is it called? Narcan..
Yeah. Like you use with the cocaine addicts all the
time. That will fix Marco right off as soon as we
get to Rampart,.." he smiled desperately.
But his eyes on the stretcher next to his
only revealed a deathly still man, and an oddly
mechanical heart rhythm, unnaturally 
slow for lifesigns, scrolling on the screen 
next to his own. "..right?"

Johnny's eyes filled and he set his hand on
Marco's stomach just for the reassuring rise
and fall of his breathing in another attempt 
to delude himself.
"Chet.. That tiny OD put Marco into a coma,
one from which he might not ever awaken."


The sirens above Chet's head began to
alter in pitch, its urgency mocked, as a new 
sound mingled with its wail and began to grow.

The sound was of two completely grown 
professional firefighting men, starting to cry.


------------------------------------------


"Roy....."


A voice.  It was someone he knew. He
was certain of that while he worked
around the pain and fog in his head.


"Roy..... Open your eyes.... It's me."


 Roy DeSoto opened his eyes to a bright light 
which was instantly angled out of his eyes by
a nimble hand, which cocked the overhead light 
away from his face. Roy coughed..

A gentle smile resolved into focus.
Dixie McCall sat on a stool by the side of his 
treatment room gurney. "How are you doing?"
she asked. "You took long enough snapping
out of it." she teased. "Thought I might have
to light matches under your fingernails just to
revive you."

The joke didn't make Roy laugh.

Roy tried to rise but she was instantly there,
restraining him. "Easy. Dr. Morton will be along 
to check you out in a moment. Now you just lie 
back and wait for him. Do you remember what
happened to you?"

Roy groaned, fighting dizziness and swept fingers
to his nose, feeling the flowing cannula resting there,
but it was only his expression that conveyed his 
next question because he couldn't yet talk.

"You passed out. Johnny brought you in here
himself, twenty minutes ago."

"I did?"
He took another deep breath from the oxygen
tubing and his stubbornly foggy head cleared.

Emotion wracked DeSoto cruelly as full recall
of what he had done dug into the pit of his
stomach. "Marco! Ohmygod.. Dixie.. I-- It's Marco.
I-I.. gave him an overd-- "

He cut off when he saw her small slow nod.

The room swam nightmarish in his mind's eye
as he returned to every paramedic's idea of a living hell.
He sucked in a choking sob and demanded. "How is
he?"

Dixie's doe eyes lowered fractionally but she
met Roy's gaze again right away even as
her caregiver's voice deepened into a note of
seriousness.
".....He's the same I've heard....  Dr. Early's 
with him now. He's ordered an EEG scan on him."

Dixie held up an admonishing finger when Roy
started to protest, started to leave the bed. 

She snicked up the bed's side rail, preventing him.
"Now you listen to me Roy DeSoto. We'll get
answers soon enough. But those won't come
any faster if you go barging in there like some
guilt ridden, self sacrificing Don Quixote. Besides,
you have no idea which treatment room he's in
right now at all, do you?" she said, folding her arms.

"Dix.." he started to say.

She ignored him, "Chet, on the other hand, is asking
about YOU." she said significantly. "There's
a fireman who's got his priorities straight. He's 
concerned right now with Roy DeSoto. And so am I. "  

She changed the subject a bit to deflect him,
"Did you know that your partner brought Kelly back
with his first IC ever? Chet converted right away.
Gage nearly wet himself when Brackett gave him
the order, but he did what had to be done, flawlessly.
Shows his skills as a paramedic are gr--" she broke
off, uncomfortable when she realized what she
had been about to say.

Roy let the comment sting. "But what about 
my OWN skills as a paramedic, huh?" he 
said with some heat. "Yeah, I trained Johnny,
so did you, and he now saves a hell of a lot of lives.
because of us.." he said sarcastically, 
"But tell me this, Dix...When did I lose track of
managing my own stamina and judgement?
Can you tell me that? When did I lose my edge?" 
Tears filled his eyes as he absently picked at the burn 
dressing someone had placed on his arm while he
had been unconscious.
"How can I get up tomorrow morning to even shave?
I can just see it, pretending all's well.. Staring at my own
face in the mirror...." His voice was intensely bitter,
"A little lost sleep and I blow all propriety out 
the window with a fateful misinjection that 
turns one of my best friends whom I've known 
for almost six years into one of the living d--....."

"Roy..." Dix admonished. "Now you listen to me and
you listen to me good. Dragging yourself over
the coals about this thing isn't helping one bit.
It's not helping you and it's not helping me.
And certainly that attitude's not helping Marco."

The mention of Lopez's name made Roy look away.
Dix grabbed Roy's chin to make him look at her.

She said frankly.
"You know as well as I do that it's still way too
soon to know if the Diazepam caused
permanent harm yet or not.. You know the
findings in this scenario are unrevealing for
a week or two at the very least... So don't go writing
off any people so soon. Neither your friend, nor
yourself." She let him go.
"So you made a mistake. A terrible one.
One that will most likely have a lasting effect no matter
the outcome. But let's face it, together. You
don't have to be alone with this. Not at all."

She angrily brushed loose hair from her eyes 
and took his hand, 
"That's why I'm here, Roy. That's why we're all here.
So don't you forget that. Your family loves you
and so do your crewmates. Don't let them down by
giving up on anyone. And I won't have you giving up
on yourself so start dealing with it right now, Roy 
DeSoto."
 
She rose, moving the exam tray Mike would need 
for Roy in a few minutes.

She gave Roy time to absorb her words.
Dixie's own eyes were full and watery,
but she didn't let any tears fall. 
She felt too much conviction to let 
emotion rule her. Especially when someone 
needed her to be a firm strength. 
Especially during times like
this one.:: A friend in need.....:: she thought.
"Joanne and the kids are on their way. I called 
them myself."

Some of her strength finally transmuted to DeSoto.

Roy nodded, quickly drying his face. Internally, 
he felt horrible, being weakened in body physically,
and emotionally, down to his very soul.
But if he had to be vulnerable. He could 
think of no one better suited to share his pain outside
his immediate home or working family,
...than Dixie. "Where's Johnny?" he asked, his
voice a little clearer.

Dixie answered truthfully, "With Marco. He's been
glued to him ever since he ....went down."

Roy's chest tightened and he clenched his 
teeth, denying the physical injury there, but one 
hand moved up to his chest unbidden.

Dix didn't miss his symptoms. She wrapped a grip
around his wrist checking. "Short of breath?"
She paused a few seconds, counting his pulse.
"Uneven. I'm getting you on an EKG."

She was still patching him up to the monitor when
Dr. Morton entered the room. Without a word,
he went to Roy's side, checking his pupils and overall
condition in his trademark gruff manner. 
He spent a minute studying the strip Dixie produced from Roy's
leads, then he spoke. "Residual elevation on your T waves.
That's typical with excessive electrical contact. They should
resolve in an hour or so. You'll be fine there without the 
necessity of me medicating you."

He began a belly probe and chest percussion exam.
Both Dix and Roy were puzzled at his silence during
it.
Morton sighed and eyed the both of them 
before saying, "I am breaching doctor/patient
confidentiality by saying this to you both, but Marco's EEG is
showing plateau levelling with a negative Babinski
finding.."

"Mike.." Dix scolded.

Morton was frank, "Dixie, Roy doesn't want to be coddled.
Isn't that right, DeSoto..?"  He said, turning to his patient.

Roy nodded his head in tiny agreement but was deathly afraid
to hear more.

"Do I go on telling you anything, Miss McCall?" Mike asked.
"If you don't trust yourself to hear this, you can 
leave the room right now." He said, taking off Roy's oxygen 
feed so he could look into his nose for dust or blood.

She held her tongue. 

Dr. Morton went on, "I didn't stay in the treatment room 
long enough to hear all of what Dr. Early and Dr. Brackett 
were discussing on Lopez," he indicated DeSoto, "for they 
told me YOU were still out cold then and needed to be 
seen. But I will tell you this. It's too soon to tell
anything with absolute certainty. There are steroidal
treatments we can use to try to induce a return of frontal
lobe functioning. But it's going to take time to clean
out all the Diazepam toxins from his system.. Until then
Marco's coma is being streamlined and deepened
with anti-inflammatorys and his body core temperature's
being dropped until his brain tissue begins to heal itself. 
Now,.. let's just finish up here and stop talking about Lopez." 
He smiled slightly.
"You didn't hear this news from me. Is that understood?
My butt could be canned even discussing him."

Two heads nodded.

Dr. Morton went over Roy with a fine tooth comb
and then he drew a red top. "Nurse, run this to the lab.
Have them run a cardiac creatin series, CBC and
electrolytes." Dixie took the phial and headed for
the door. "Oh, and have them look for renal proteins.
I want to make sure your kidneys fared as well as
your heart did, Roy."

But Roy wasn't listening to him.

Dixie shifted her gaze from Roy to Mike, reluctant
to leave, but finally, she did.

The closing door returned silence to the
treatment room.

Doctor and paramedic went eye to eye when the
rest of the exam was over. Mike rubbed his chin 
for a moment, and considered something.

Without saying a word, Dr. Morton pulled down
the bed's side rail and handed out to Roy his T shirt 
and uniform that had been resting across a 
nearby chair. He swept a gesture for Roy to get
out of bed, uncharacteristically .....kind.

Roy looked at Mike questioningly, coming out
of his deep thoughts.  "Doc?" 

The "get vertical" and go invite was not standard for 
one in Roy's condition.

"I'm releasing you.." Morton said, peeling off EKG
patches and the BP cuff off Roy. "No point in you
lying around here worrying about all this, 
now is there?"
He held up the rolled EKG from his chart."There's
nothing I'm seeing here that warrants an admission."

Roy sat up, testing his own balance and took
the shirt, taking and then pulling on the T and 
then the uniform.

Morton held up a finger. "But I am ordering you
away from Marco."

That stopped DeSoto.
"Why?" Roy asked. "Don't tell me it's for my own
health.." he said a little defensively.

Morton moved to the door, and opened it.

Vince and his partner Garner stood there 
leaning against the wall. They had been standing
outside Roy's treatment room waiting. And they
were on duty. "They asked me to inform you
not to see him." Morton told DeSoto.

Mike wished he could say something encouraging,
but nothing more needed to be said. All four of
them knew why officers were present.

Vince studied his shoes.. and both he and Garner
whipped off their helmets in respect. "Sorry Roy. Standard
procedure.." Vince said uncomfortably.

Roy buttoned his shirt, moving out into the hall,
a horrifying thought coming to mind, 
"Am I being arrested?"

But Vince didn't say anything more.
Garner said, "Dr. Brackett would like to see you
in his office. He'd like to see you right away."

Dr. Morton set a gentle hand on Roy's shoulder.
"I'll call you with your lab results. Take care."

"Appreciate it, doc." DeSoto said as Morton
walked away down the bustling, busy noon time
hospital hallway.

Roy's mind was numb. He was highly aware of
the presence of the two police officers flanking him.
It made him feel like the worst of criminals.
::Maybe I am one. One of the worst kind. 
Hurting Marco like this is unforgivable..:: 
he thought.

The short walk was soon over and he turned to
the left, first knocking, and then settling a still dusty
hand on the chief physician's rich maghogany and brass
door knob until he heard a reply of, "Come in."

It took all of his concentration and will
to finally open the door.


----------------------------------


Gage was inches away from Joe as he worked over
Lopez. He fussed with the bird's link to Marco's
mouth, watched the respirator pump beyond
his taped airway billow adequately, and handed 
Early medications and equipment before the 
doctor even asked for them. Finally, Dr. Early said. 
"Johnny. Thing's are well under hand here. Why 
don't you go grab a cup of coffee?"

Johnny looked up from an unconscious grip he
had on Marco's brachial pulse that he was 
using to monitor Lopez closely. "Hmm?" he 
said distractedly.

Dr. Early saw the firm grip Gage had on Marco.
And the palpable fear he had of even considering
letting Lopez out of his direct care.

Joe nodded tightly and then reconsidered sending
the dark eyed paramedic from the room.
"Hand me the cooling blanket will you? 
I'll rig an internal thermometer. We're going to lower
his core body temperature to ninety four degrees."

"Right doc.." Gage moved into activity.
They rolled Marco's bare body onto the plastic
coils and bundled him up inside of it snuggly once
the doctor had his internal thermometer probe in
place. He switched it on..

Dr. Early watched the degrees indicator drop
and adjusted a dial until the reading showed 94.

A bleep made both men jump. It was the EKG,
reacting. A random PVC.

Johnny ran to the display his face brightening.
"Is he feeling that cold, doc? Look.." he said,
pointing,.. as another PVC inserted itself,
breaking the abnormally slow beat tracing
on the monitor..

Dr. Early bent over Marco's chest, listening manually
with his stethoscope.

Johnny held his breath.

Dr. Early shifted his listening to Lopez's
abdomen and to the intestines lying just beneath.
He lifted his head, eyeballing Gage. 
"There's no sounds of bowel movement, Johnny.
He's still in his coma.. It's possibly the steroids
Dr. Brackett gave him to reduce cranial swelling 
that is causing that arrythmia. Steroids have a tendency
to do that quite often. It's just a random aberration."

The PVC mocked them by not repeating.

"Damn.."  Johnny said, standing up and walking away
a few steps, hands on his hips. He then felt his
long aches and fatigue..and the weight of his job
like a ton of bricks. He leaned over, hands on knees,
coughing hoarsely at phlegm he suddenly felt strangling
him.

"Took in a little dust?" Dr. Early asked.

Johnny nodded without looking up. "Just a bit. 
The camper blew up a few minutes after we got
the two little girls out safely."

Dr. Early pointed to the O2 port on one wall 
with a pen, a silent order.

Wearily, Gage rose and sat on a stool by it, moving his
seat so he could still be close to Marco's head and grabbed
a demand valve from the basket for himself. He began using it,
sucking in its pressurized oxygen to clear his lungs
in several cleansing breaths.

He startled, looking down when he saw that one
of the attending nurses had already put protective
ointment into Marco's eyes and had taped them
shut. Only patients moving to the Intensive
Care Unit or to surgery got that done to them.

Highly disturbed, he took in more O2, coughing when 
the cool oxygen made the dusty snot in his chest bubble, then
he spoke, "He's not going to wake up anytime
soon.. is he?"

Dr. Early was studying Lopez's EEG monitor
intently but he looked up at Johnny instantly.
"I am not going to lie to you, Gage. Marco's
condition is very serious. Diazepam is poisonous
in high dosages. It kills cerebral tissue very quickly if
it's not counteracted fast enough. These Narcan
drips can only do so much. Marco's system
was already weakened from the electrical shock
he received. His heart was racing then, because
his blood pressure was depressed and from those
involuntary seizures. Most likely, quite a bit of the 
paralyzer made it to his brain before 
you injected the counteragent."  
  
Johnny buried his face into his free hand and rubbed
tired eyes. "Oh, man... Roy's gonna freak out over
that.." He took in more O2.  Then he spoke
again, blinking without seeing, at the posters
on the wall proclaiming the success of the
fledgling LA County paramedic program to date.
"I should have seen he wasn't up to it. 
He hasn't slept for close to two days."

Dr. Early just listened while Gage vented, "Hell,
even Cap dismissed Roy's tiredness at
breakfast.. he even gave me these.." he grinned,
pulling out the smelling salt pack Cap gave him.

The sight of one missing, the one he had used
on the woman made his grin wash away and he 
tossed them onto the bed. He couldn't bear to look 
at them for they had been an eerie premonition 
of what was to come.
"I should've stopped him. I should've seen 
the warning signs." he said, watching the respirator
fill Marco's chest with air before it released it
again in electronic uniformity. Up and down,
automatically doing its work with perfect 
machine like precision.

Gage ruffled fingers through Marco's hair, picking
off the bits of debris, clinging to it.

"What's going to happen to the both of them, doc?"
He asked at last..
At that thought, Gage lost it. Tears sprang out.
He sank his face into his arms, caressing Marco's
head and began to weep.

Joe took the O2 mask out of Johnny's hands and 
just sat with him. An arm over his shoulder. 
He sent the nurses out of the room.

John cried for a time.

Then the two silently fell to watching Marco's slow
EKG and the even slower brain wave EEG monitor 
without needing to speak anymore. It wasn't 
the time for words any longer. It was time
to start praying.

A chaplin entered shortly thereafter to do
just that.

Johnny had to leave the moment he saw
the purple cloth around the chaplain's neck.
::Oh no. Lopez isn't going to get Last Rites if
I have anything to do with it. I'll find Brackett.
Yeah. Maybe there's a more aggressive treatment
out there he knows about.::

He stood, swiftly, hiding his thought from the doctor.
He mumbled to Dr. Early.
"Gotta go find... Roy... You keep me posted,
you hear?" he said, fiercely wiping his face dry.
"Call me at home, or the station.. Hell call
me via dispatch if Marco changes even if I'm on 
another run...Promise me that, doc.."

Joe looked up, very somber, "I will."


Johnny left to go find Brackett.


---------------------

Roy turned the brass knob.

Kelly Brackett, he expected to see, framed
by his golden leafed medical books lining the
walls of the rust colored office and
sitting behind the broad desk with its 
nameplate displaying on one edge of it.

But he didn't expect to see another
man in one of the visiting chairs.

"Cap?" Roy exclaimed in surprise.
He let Vince and Garner into the room 
behind him, so shocked that he almost
forgot they were even there.

"Would you close the door, Roy?" Brackett
asked. "And have a seat.."

"Sure,doc."  Roy did so and took the chair
next to Captain Stanley. Hank was still
in his trenchcoat, and his helmet was
on the floor.

Roy thought, ::He didn't even leave it
in the engine cab?:: thought a ridiculous
ramble. ::I hope Marco's ok. And Chet.::

The distraught paramedic looked around 
the room, not getting anything from the 
unreadable expressions from the man who had
taught him emergency medicine nor from 
the man who was his station's captain.

He broke the awkward pause that followed by
asking, "How's Kelly doing?" with a falsely 
encouraging smile.

Hank shifted uncomfortably in his seat, sniffing,
and didn't find a position that made him feel 
better, "H- he's just fine, pal.., " he said,
clapping his gloves together with a cheeriness
that was forced. "ah,..He woke up in 
the ambulance according to Johnny,and.. and... 
and spit out his EOA." he laughed slightly.
" Heard he complained the whole
way in. The doc here says he's been moved to CCU 
just as a precaution for a couple of days."

Roy smiled bigger, a bit. It fooled no one.

Hank added, "Kelly's been asking about you.
Said something about wanting "the" pinup for
his room.. ah,.. know anything about that?"

Roy scratched his head, "He meant Johnny's Smoky
the Bear poster, Cap. They've been stealing it from
each other ever since their Phantom stunt war
ended. It's in Gage's locker."

"Fine, Roy. I'll.. have one of the guys bring it
to him.." Cap said. 

Roy refused the icy feeling that seeped into
him.::Now why does one of the guys have to do
that? What's going on here?::
 But he felt his mouth mechanically say,
"I can do that, Cap. Morton's just released
me medically.."

Cap actually looked away from DeSoto and
that frightened Roy more than anything else
he had seen since the OD occurred. 

Kelly Brackett steepled his hands, looking very
tired. "Roy.. there are detectives here, working
with these two police officers.."

"What?" Roy asked, stunned.
He then noticed the angry red on Cap's face.
And the same color on Brackett's a moment
later. ::Have they been arguing about me?::

Brackett met Roy's eyes squarely.. "I've been
ordered to have you step down as your station's
paramedic pending a full investigation.. by orders
of a Detective Fielder, coming from FEMA itself.
You know the organization is like the FBI for
the EMS service."

Roy stood, and anxiously began to fidget.
"Why, doc? I mean, I know I made a horrible
mistake out there. But don't you have to have
criminal charges before--"

A new man entered the room, fully in a three
piece power suit armed to the hilt with 
official looking papers. "We have those charges
sir. Gross Nonfeasance, Mr. DeSoto.. 
Your lack of professional judgement almost killed a man 
and these two officers over here were witnesses to it."

Cap's look at Vince and Garner almost burned them.
Cap shot to his feet, "What!? This
is getting ridiculous Doctor Brackett." he rounded on
Kel, "You only told me Roy had to take a leave
of absence, You never said anything about this
kind of thing!"

Brackett looked shaken.. "My hands are tied,
captain, as are yours.." he said severely. Anyone
who knew him knew the head ER physician was
highly worried, not angry.
Kel stood and turned to his first, best paramedic.
"I'm sorry Roy, But I am going to have to ask
you for your badge and departmental ID."

Cap stabbed a hand on Dr. Brackett's desk. "In a
pig's eye! You said nothing about resigna--!!"

Roy shook his head, "Cap.. Cap.. ".. he said,
setting a hand on Hank's coat.  "Stop.." he
said quietly. 

Captain Stanley still had soot on his face.
And there was a look of helplessness there
that Roy had never seen before coming from him.
But he knew that emotion. It was an emotion
any firefighter worth his salt got when 
things suddenly rocketted out of firm control.

Roy repeated himself. "Just.....stop.."
He looked around the office, smelling the
sweat coming off him, Vince, and Cap and the
musky civilized cologne off of Fielder and
he felt suddenly old and worn. It was serious
this time. Nothing that could be fixed or
patched up, ......or forgotten.

Without another word, he unpinned his uniform's
shield and threw his wallet medic's identification
card with it onto Brackett's desk. The badge bounced,
falling onto its front and rang as it rocked there on 
the shiny wood, until Kelly Brackett's hand 
stilled it.

Cap wouldn't even look at it, instead settling
his eyes on Roy's, in apology.

DeSoto nodded to Cap in acceptance of all
and he turned to the detective.. and
raised his wrists...palms up, together.

It was Vince's turn to look away. He motioned
to his partner to attend to DeSoto instead.
He himself couldn't bear to do it.

Garner brought out his metal handcuffs,
and opened them reciting the beginning
of the Miranda Rights all of them had only
heard on TV. "You have the right to remain
silent.. You have the right to an attorney.
If you cannot afford an attorney one will
be appointed for you for your trial in a 
court of law....."

Cap dropped his head as he saw Roy's
dusty and bloody hands bound behind his back.
::Hero's blood. From those he's trained to save,
God damn it..::

Even Dr. Brackett was speechless.
But then he said as Fielder opened the office
door to let Vince and Garner lead Roy out,
"Roy.... I'll do everything in my power to 
handle this..." he promised,,, " Absolutely
everything.."

Roy gave him a pained look before he was
led away.

The door shut.

Cap slammed his gloved fist into the desk.
"It isn't right! Roy doesn't have an evil bone
in his body..."

Kel reacted, "I know that. In fact, I wouldn't be 
surprised if this entire hospital knows that too.
Believe me when I tell you now that I AM on your side captain..
But technically, what DeSoto did to Marco is legally
construed the same as an attempted murder.. accident or not 
with just the facts in black and white, on paper alone.." he 
said angrily.
Then he sobered. "Now it's up to us, to 
convince the courts to see just what kind
of man we already know DeSoto to be.
One of the best paramedics you or I or this county has 
ever seen."


---------------------------


Out by the Emergency entrance,
Johnny saw the back of Roy's head out by the squad
and was overjoyed that he had his blue uniform shirt
back on and was ambulatory.

"Roy!" he shouted.. But then he cast his eyes lower
and saw metal cuffs around his wrists behind his
torn and soiled back.

In a sudden haze, he saw Vince guide Roy's 
head into the back of their squad car before he, 
too, climbed into the front seat. 
The police car started pulling away and Johnny 
saw Roy's face lean against the window, 
drained, with eyes closed.

A pure fury gripped him, "No... Roy!!"

Gage started running dodging around patients
and nurses and doctors who were wondering what
the paramedic was shouting about."Please..
I have to get through.. My partn-- Who the
hell released him from hospital custody? 
He's injured!" he demanding of the passing 
doctors around him.

But no one spoke up or answered his loud
demand.

A sharp impact stopped him in his tracks.
It was Cap, wrapping powerful arms around
him in a bearhug."No,, Gage.. Let him go..."

Johnny broke away and again they jostled.
"Cap, they just can't DO that.. I gotta tell
them the truth.. I was th--"

Cap whirled Gage around, his helmet's strap
dangling under his chin, "I know that, pal.
But you have to let him go. Don't embarrass
him further. He's completely devastated as it is.."
he reasoned.

Gage stopped trying to leave. But he didn't take
his eyes off of Roy's police car until it turned a
right turn under the hospital walkway and was gone.

Johnny turned back to Cap, suddenly seeing how
incongruent a completely outfitted firefighter seemed
inside Rampart. Already eyes were drawing to 
Cap and whispers beginning.

Cap noticed this, "Come on, pal. We're sticking out 
here like sore thumb. Let's grab some
coffee and go see Kelly, ok? Would you like that?
I know I would. I've already cleared
it with dispatch that the station will be out 
two hours. Lord knows we need some breathing
room after all this hellish business."

Johnny still looked stunned. 

Cap lightly tapped him on the face, "Hey.. 
pull it together. Joanne and the kids will be 
here soon and we're the ones who are going 
to have to tell her what's going on...
Dix has already agreed to stall them until
WE'RE ready for them. So let's go."

Cap guided John by the shoulders and into the 
nurses' lounge. "Tell me about Marco. What's his
current condition..?'' he said, sitting Gage down.

Mechanically Johnny began telling him and he felt
a steaming cup of coffee thrust into his trembling
hands. The odor of java that was so inviting
that same morning smelled suddenly like the most
vile substance on earth. He closed his eyes against
the world, denying everything but the feeling of
his captain's glove still on his shoulder while he talked.

Unbidden, he saw a vision of Marco's cross taped 
eyes sunk in a pale face behind his own closed eyelids
and his own shot right back open again and
he gasped.

Cap was still urgently talking to him, not taking
eyes off of his junior man, now awfully partnerless 
for an unknown length of time.
He knew it would be even harder for Gage when
he got back to the station and saw Gil already
in place as 51's temporary paramedic fill in.
"Easy, pal. I know this going to be hard for the whole
gang. Just hang tough. Before you know it, we'll
be right back together soon sharing another of Marco's
four alarm breakfast recipes. And that will be during a 
very, very routine A shift, ok?  Gage? Drink up. 
Things will be normal again if I have anything to say about
it. You can be absolutely assured of that, pal."

Deep inside, Gage knew things weren't going to be normal
again for many many days. Not by a long shot.


--------------------------------------


An hour went by slowly, and soon, he found he was 
back to base at the station house.  

Johnny Gage pulled the squad back 
into the garage about half way, then stopped, staring
at the brilliantly blue California sky overhead.
::Seems so unreal. That fogbank might have
been a mirage for all I'm seeing here.:: he thought
squinting in the sunlight.  ::It caused a whole
lot of heartache for such a short lived thing.::

For the third time, he glanced over at 
the passenger seat in reflex. It felt odd being
in the driver's seat, the most profound
sensation was knowing the reason why he
was there. And he couldn't ...quite get over it.

But Gage pushed his troubling feelings aside 
when he saw that the engine had beaten him 
back from Rampart.::They're going to need 
me to be the same Johnny Gage I always am, 
with my joking and complaining. Somebody has to
be the one to act normal around here. 
We're a station crew with three men down.::

Sighing, he turned off the lights and put the truck in 
park, took off his black helmet, and got out. 
He headed straight for the showers.  

Gage whistled a tuneless measure to 
cheer himself up with a shouldered towel and 
shampoo and soon, he found himself walking by 
the sinks. He was shocked to find another 
fireman with ginger hair shaving by one of 
them. He stopped whistling.

The other man turned around.. "Hey Johnny.."

Johnny didn't move.. but he replied, "Hi, Gil.. "
He hid a reaction of resentment. Roy's fill in
had already been summoned. It was the way of
a 24/7 fire department.  He curbed any sharp 
tone by lowering his eyes and mumbling.. "Who
else came out with you?"

Gil, was bright, free of worry. "Oh, Moreno from
Eight's and...uh, I think Odegard from 14's."
he said, carefully carving a path through the 
foam on his face.

"Good man Odegard," Johnny remarked, "Heard
he just got his rear pumper lieutenancy last month.
Got promoted the same time as Lop--" he broke off.
He studied his shoes, tapping one toe against
the tiled wall frame.

Gil caught a bit of John's reluctant acceptance of
him filling Roy's place and nodded, "Listen..uh, 
Johnny. If it means anything at all.. I rushed
ahead of the line and volunteered myself  
to make this reassignment a little easier for you."

Gage said, "Gil.. don't pay any attention to
my face right now..It's not listening to me at all at the
moment. What you think you see there, isn't about you.
It's about me not being able to cope fast enough."
he said, irritated at himself. "My whole world's been
turned upside down in.." he looked at
his dusty watch,.." a little under four and a half hours."
And he threw him a dry look and frown. "My brain's
seriously fried."

But Gil Sheppard went on, feeling an explanation
would make himself feel more comfortable.
"I barged on ahead of Brice thinking I was the lesser 
of two evils...heh."  he said wiping off the last of
the foam on his face. "Look, I know I can't fill
your partner's shoes one hundred percent, a close
working team doesn't spring up well oiled over night.
I figured I'm less caustic that HE would've been."

Johnny walked over next to Gil, and leaned two hands
on a sink. "Sheppard.. " and he held out his hand.
"I'm glad you're here.. Welcome to Station 51,
partner.." and he actually smiled on one side.

Relieved, Gil broke off and took Gage's hand. "Been a long
time, Johnny. We haven't hung out since Pam died.."
He shook a calloused firm hold,  then let go, turning back to
the mirror. "It's been what? Five years?"

John, too, studied the mirror and saw the soot and
wear of the morning on his forehead and clothes.
"I look like a sight for sore eyes." he sighed heavily,
"Yeah. Something like that. What've you been up to, 
lately? I thought you took that cush job up north in 
the Sierra Nevadas with Station Ten's,  riding shotgun 
with their elite high country rescue helicopter unit.."

"I'm still there. But it's not exactly fire nor tourist
season. Things are slow. And then when we all heard
your run go out this morning and then your radio transmissions
about Chet and Marco and Roy on the scanner, I knew
I had to come and help you guys out, you know..I've got
too much history with this station house to just do nothing."
Gil said as he absently rinsed the sink. He gave an exaggerated,
short polish to one particular carved grafitti heart near his sink, 
still displaying the faint initials of G.S and P.B. and eyed Johnny
from the corner of his eye to see if he noticed the teasing move.
Gil and Johnny once competed dating wise for Pam. Gil was the 
one who eventually won her hand.

Johnny dropped his head and put hands on his hips
smiling even wider. He was caught. Gil's maneuver had worked.
For the first time Gage felt good feelings
since the pile up call. "Yeah, Pam always did link us all up
together, and between you and Roy,.. and Pam, you three finally 
fanaggled me into entering the medic program and got my rear 
off being a rescue man on the engine. How could I refuse the challenge?
I didn't stand a chance, a zitfaced teen fireman, standing alone,
against two paramedics and a flight nurse telling such tales of 
heroism and bravery? Not a chance in the world.."

Gil laughed.

John patted his arm in appreciation, "Thanks for being there
for the both of us." He meant Roy and himself. 
"Then ...and now.. See you in a bit."
And he left to clean himself and get into a new
uniform.  Before he got all the way into the water
room, he stopped, "Oh, and Gil..."

"Hmm??" the tall red haired man grunted around his
toothpaste.

"Thanks for upstaging Brice.. I might have murdered
him on the very next run we went on..."

"No problem."


-----------------------


The county jail physician had noticed DeSoto's 
arrival through the main doors of the LA county 
PD, and grunted at the dusty look falling over 
the minor burns that were still half treated on Roy's  
arm and chest. He followed Roy through his search, 
fingerprinting and clothes changing process, attending
him silently.

Nervously, Roy told him that he had been treated
and released by Rampart General officially due to 
extenuating circumstances, most likely from the detective's
eagerness to take him into custody, but the older 
grizzled man would have nothing to do with that excuse. 

He treated and covered Roy's blisters with several 
two by twos and Silvadene.  To Roy's dismay, the
handcuffs were not removed the whole time.  Finally, 
as the older doctor was putting away his supplies, 
Roy spoke, "I've been through a lot today. I don't 
usually have a pair of handcuffs locking my wrists 
together like this. I've a wife and two small kids
coming. If you'd just take them off.. I'd sure 
appreciate it.." he requested. 

The old doctor didn't look up, and quipped wearily, 
"That's what they all say.." He took Roy's measure fully.
But then said kindly.."You don't strike me as a felon 
Mr. DeSoto, quite the opposite in fact. I'm sure
whatever it is you're in for will straighten itself out.."

Roy didn't say anything contrary, but nodded noncommitally. 
"I sure hope you're right, doc."

"Keep them dry..." the jail physician said. "I'll see 
what I can do about those restraints." And then he 
left Roy to his solitude. The attendant guard helped him 
to change the rest of the way into his overalls 
without saying a word.

Roy's apprehension grew at the cautious manner in
which the man handled him. ::As if I were a powder keg,
about to go off.::

Ten minutes later, another guard returned and freed Roy
from his bonds without questions and he was taken 
away. The doc was as good as his word.

----------

It was sometime later, Roy was staring at the ceiling 
of his jail cell, tracing a crack in its official steel gray
shine, drawing along it with a finger from 
his place on the cot while lying on his back.

His own mind haunted him.

Sunlight through the shadow of leaves
from the window made shapes of a checkerboard
that flickered on one wall. Its cheerfulness seemed
vile to him and he couldn't bear to look at it.
 
Roy sighed, shifting onto his side, to avoid it 
and scratched at an itch, then winced when he 
caught a blister's top accidently with a fingernail.
::Just how did I wind up here?:: 

The memory he had of the ride in was from a protective 
haze that had divorced him from his surroundings. 

Now the gray cell's quiet was restoring his senses.

He smelled disinfectant and chlorine from the toilet.
And heard the echoes of bar gates slamming as people
were moved about around him.

Slowly, he forced himself to run over events in his 
mind of what had taken place that morning.

DeSoto folded his elbows above him on the pillow
and rested his head on his arms, very sobered by 
the enormity of how quickly things had changed.

::Why didn't I see I was unfit to handle Marco's med? I
just won't buy the excuse of a headache from the jolt 
in the floor. I've taken harder knocks than that and still
carried out a rescue afterwards. Just where in the hell
did I go wrong here?:: But answers eluded him as easily 
as smoke on the wind. A lurid grogginess rose up,
masking out his thoughts again in a protective pall.

Even before his eyes drifted shut, Roy fell into an exhausted 
and troubled sleep.

------------

He awoke to a gentle caress on his cheek. Lily of the valley
perfume told Roy who was with him. "Joanne? "  he whispered.

Roy's wife of seven years placed her head on his nearest
shoulder and just layed there, smoothing out its loud orange
jail colored material from her place on a chair. 

She had been watching him sleep for half an hour until her 
need for contact made her wake him. "Honey, I heard, I'm so 
sorry about Lopez. It's awful.  Are you ok?"
Joanne didn't even begin to imagine the guilt Roy
must have been feeling, for volumes of it filled his
eyes, making them cloudy.

But Roy kissed her head tenderly, and set his hand on
the two of hers. "Physically, yes. Emotionally, well, 
the count's still out on that one. How else can you 
feel on the day you almost kill one of your coworkers?"

Joanne covered her mouth, blinking to shut out her 
tears and she just wrapped her arms around her 
husband as if to drive out all of his pain and remorse 
with just the warmth from her body. 

Roy closed his eyes, letting silent tears fall but he 
didn't, couldn't make a sound.

Joanne soothed away his chills when he started shaking 
and gave him her own light jacket to use, pulling it up 
around his neck. 

Roy coughed, sitting up, and got a  grip over his fear, 
studying her eyes, "A-Are the kids here? I don't want
them to see their father like this..."

Joanne replied, "Don't worry. When Cap and Johnny 
told us you had been arrested and were no longer at 
the hospital, I came here alone. Bernice from down the street 
has them until we get back home."

Her last sentence jarred through Roy's senses.
"Until WE get home?"  He sat up and they broke apart.

"Yes, didn't you hear? Johnny's met your bail. I was 
allowed back here to come get you." Joanne said with 
consternation. "Didn't the authorities tell you anything about
being released?" 

"No. No one's told me a thing. Not even the jail doctor. He 
treated my burns, but kept cuffs on me the whole time."

Joanne got a little angry. "Well, they're off now. And I wouldn't be
surprised if the officer outside comes in here to open the door
any second now. He told me he'd come get us as soon as we were 
ready to go. I told him to wait so you could rest a little more and
to come back when you were awake and talking again."

Sure enough, Joanne's guard heard conversation and
entered the jail block. He unlocked Roy's cell door, leaving it 
wide open. "You're free to go, Mr. DeSoto. Detective Fielder 
is releasing you into house arrest custody until your extradition 
hearing tommorrow morning. A Mr. Gage covered your bail for 
you."

And the young man left them alone again.

"Let's go home, Roy. I don't like it here."
Joanne said.


---------------


Gil and Johnny were spit and polished for their
shift and they made their way around squad and engine
to the kitchen, talking animatedly.

A voice called from the captain's office. "Gage, Sheppard.
A moment if you will."  It was Cap.

"Right there.." Johnny said. His short lived good mood
evaporated immediately. It was Hank's official business
tone showing in his voice.

"Coming, Cap.." Gil said. 

The two paramedic friends entered the office.
Gage spun around and almost left again when he
saw who was with his captain.

Detective Fielder rose to his feet, "Johnny Gage?"
and he offered his hand. "Detective Fielder, from
the Investigative Office, FEMA."

John took the hand, blank faced, eyeing the wall. 
He was intently aware of Cap watching his reactions.
"Yes. I'm Johnny Gage. I'm Roy DeSoto's partner with
the paramedic squad here." he dropped the detective's
hand quickly and sat in a chair, putting his feet on Cap's desk,
at once challenging and sarcastic,.....barely civil.

Hank surprisingly, grinned at John's body english, and  
didn't mind the feet sitting on his papers at all. He inwardly
depised this Fielder almost as much as his paramedic did.

Gil, instinctive firefighter to the last, sat with Gage, folding
his fingers with elbows on knees before him, leaning in on 
the conversation to show his unswaying support nonverbally.


Johnny looked at Fielder and didn't look away. "Exactly what
can I do for you, sir? Quite frankly, I'm mad as hell you
even had him arrested!"

Fielder raised his palms in surrender, not at all phased by
the accusation. "Now that wasn't my call at all. The PD saw an 
illegal offense taking place. By law, they were required to act.
It was my job to get him to take a leave of absence and
to investigate the why and how of what happened.
It's the knee jerk protocol of the PD alone that even had Mr.
DeSoto cuffed and hauled away without an actual crime 
scene statistic."

"Crime scene statistic..." he grunted angrily. "huh.. You're talking
about the fact that Marco Lopez hasn't died yet." John said 
incredulously.

Fielder inclined his head. "No body. No crime."


Gage scoffed, "Oh, that's nice and tidy, now isn't it? My
partner is figuratively hanging himself already over this
overdose and then you come along, making him feel like
like ..like he's Hilter's Dr. Mengele' or something by taking away his
paramedic's badge. That's real class, man. Real class.." 
and he kissed his fingers sarcastically in an Italian salute.

Fielder sighed deeply from his place, leaning on the wall and he
studied his shoes, setting his hands on his hips.



The phone rang, interrupting them all.

Hank grabbed it up a little too fast,
"LA. County Fire Department. This is Captain Stanley.."
"Yeah...?"  And he wrote down some information on
a notepad." Yeah.. I'll tell him."
Then he hung up the phone, smiling just a bit, "Just heard 
from Joanne, Johnny. Your bail went through. 
DeSoto's home now. The kids are at the neighbor's
down the street."

"Good." Johnny said, glancing briefly at his captain. "At least
something's going right today.."

Fielder wasn't blind to the fire crew's need to vent. He knew
how close an engine crew's company could become. It was
a little how he considered his own family of detectives to be at 
the head offices. He gave the men in front of him the 
benefit of the doubt.
"Listen to a voice of wisdom here.  A little bird always tells me
this when I'm cornered in a plaintiff's own bailiwick."
He drew quotations in the air, " ' I- am- not- the - bad -guy'..
hmm?" And he flung his hands wide.

Gage and Cap instantly regretted their attitudes.

Fielder went on. "In fact, I am here to show that Roy DeSoto
isn't one either. The mistake itself is being investigated. Not
the man.  Roy DeSoto's fitness for continued service lies with 
this fine gentleman seated to my left, Mr. Gage." 
and he gestured to Cap.

Johnny and Gil looked up in surprise. "Cap, is this true?"

Cap didn't change his expression much but he did look
pained.  "In part." and he started to quote a departmental 
regulation. "Section nine, paragraph 14 in the county's 
captain's manual. 'In the light of an error of judgement in 
the field from crewmen under a captain's command, 
resulting in police action, it is up to the station captain 
to determine the continued fitness of the effected 
crewman to perform in his assigned role and course of duty."

"So what are you going to do, Cap?"  Gil asked. He
saw that Johnny was beyond words.

"What the man says. Investigate." and he leaned
back against the wall, with fingers laced behind
his head, "Now I'm not a whiz on this paramedic's 
stuff, I don't pretend to be. So I've asked Kel
Brackett to be my adjudicator..."

Johnny nodded with satisfaction, pleased with the 
choice.

Cap threw a gesture at Fielder. "Sound fair enough?"

"The head ER MD?" Then he nodded. "That's acceptable.
I'll make arrangements."

But Johnny still had a question. "But how are you going
to "check" Roy out?  He's been suspended. Can't investigate
the work of a paramedic out of uniform." he said, still a touch
defensive about the whole affair.

Cap made the move of a batter hitting a pitch from home plate.
"That's Brackett's department, now isn't it? I have
full confidence in the very doctor who trained
DeSoto to know and determine, if he's still got the right stuff ...
or not.."

Then Captain Stanley rose, concluding the meeting.
"Come on, lunch is getting cold. Odegard's trademark
stew on the stove..  Join us, detective?"  he invited Fielder.

"Don't mind if I do, captain. That's if... Gage and
company are amenable...." 

Johnny forced himself to grin and gallantly indicated
the door. "I am.. Eat with us. And I promise not
to beat you to a bloody pulp." His grin went bigger.

Gil smacked Johnny's shoulder. "That's what we got
a punching bag out back for, Gage. For those
oh, so macho aggressive protective tendencies of
yours.. You should start using it right after you 
tame that growling stomach of yours. I could use
a partner in a better mood as fast as I can get one."

"Oh. ha. ha."  He was the last to trail out of Cap's
office. He mumbled to himself. "I think I will..."



The four men were walking by the wallsized map
of L.A. county by the wall when a jarring shimmy
came up from the ground, unbalancing them..

The dispatch mike came off its spigot on the wall
by the intercept alcove and bounced on the floor.
It jittered there, and all eyes watched it.

"whoa.." John exclaimed, "Now that's what you call
a tremor..." and he grinned at Fielder's suddenly pale
face. "Happens all the time this far south."  He explained
to the detective. "Guess your city of Malibu's spared 
this kind of excitement at FEMA headquarters, huh??" 

It wasn't past him to torment the detective ...yet.
He easily "surfed"  the cement floor's subtle undulations.

Fielder sighed at his show of weakness with a little frustration.
"It doesn't get anything this bad. How strong do you think
it is?"

Gil checked the width of the power cords swaying back and forth
near the garage's ceiling. "From the look of it, only a 2 on 
the richter's scale.."

"Only ...a 2." Fielder echoed.

Gil slapped him on the shoulder. "It's nothing. Come
on, let's eat. You can still walk during one of these,
just, bend your knees a little bit. There. That's right."

Cap was stooping to replace the microphone when
the overhead grid toned a station's check. It
gave the Earthquake Alert Call Sign tones, then
the familiar dispatcher came online.##L.A. County 
to all stations. Topographical survey confirms a level
two earthquake spike. This is a communications check.
All stations report in.##

Captain Stanley toggled a switch. "L.A., This is Station 51, 
Communications are patent and clear. You read just
fine. 51, out, KMG 365."

The sounds of the other stations and units in
the county were still coming on the overhead
speakers in the kitchen when everyone finally
sat at the lunch tables.

Around them, the station house creaked and groaned
audibly, complaining while the slight tremor continued.

Odegard was wiping off some gravy that had
spilled at the start of the ground shake.
"Ooo, no earthquakes on my shift.. you hear me?!
This gravy's is too good a batch to go to waste... so Knock it
Off!!" he said, shaking a fist at the window across the kitchen.

The ground stilled.

"Thank you very much..." and he tossed a pinch of salt
over his shoulder for luck.

All the guys laughed at his comic relief.

The station 51 gang and the Malibu detective
began to share their meal and talk, dismissing the minor
earthquake from their minds in moments. They turned
to filling the hunger in their bellies soon after.


-----------------------------------------------------

Roy and Joanne were disturbed from their hard won, peaceful
afternoon nap soon after they had comforted each other 
physically. It was their malamute, Shania, howling a 
short series of yaps from the yard. 

At first, Joanne thought it was Bernice, escorting the kids
back home early. 

But then the house began to rock, very slightly.

Joanne cracked an eye, watching the tassels on the 
lampshade dance. She buried her head in her pillow.
"Oh, for Pete's sake. Hon.. it's another tremor.."

"What?" Roy mumbled sleepily, he was still groggy but
relaxed from the aftermath of their lovemaking.

He shifted from his back from how he had been slumbering,
to his side, snugging up close to Joanne once more, wrapping
protective arms around his wife's barely rounded,
pregnant belly.
"Oh. The ground's shaking. Yeah, I can feel it. Nothing
to worry about. It's just a .....just a... " and he
began to snore. His breathing levelled off once more.

Joanne was instantly comforted by his lack of concern.
"Just so you're ok.. And the kids.. That's all  I need to
know...." She too, soon, drifted off to join him in dreams.
 

  
Rampart General was alerted through the same
agency that ran the fire department dispatch
in all of their emergency paramedic calls.

About the Richter alert, she herself didn't feel
anything. Rampart had backup generators and
backups to those backups in a redundant three
way linkup. And the main hospital building she
was in was too big to even twitch for a level
two. Needless to say, she entered the base 
station as per protocol, reaffirming city
wide communications with all nine firehouse
paramedical units.

Dixie picked up the land line confirming full band
transmission to them first, through the fire 
department's dispatch manned base.

Then waited to see if any rescue squad wanted 
to check out their equipment afterwards.

There was only one call ; from Station 36,
in Anaheim. They wanted only a session 
on the radio monitor to test their defibrillator's 
EKG relay readout.

The head nurse obliged them, getting a perfect
EKG series from 36's equipment from their location
at their station.
Including a mock defib against their unit's
test plating, remotely.
"36. Your defibrillator's output calibrates green.
You're good to go. All four leads register fully."

"10-4, Rampart. Squad 36, out."

Shrugging, Dixie McCall left the tiny room
and she turned on the red lined radio above her 
work station. It was tuned to the state's 
official EMS bulletin scanner frequency. 

Soon, topographical data began issuing on the 
ground tremor's progress across Los Angeles.

She saw Dr. Morton walking by and he
raised an eyebrow when he saw the disaster
scanner turned on. "Oh, it's nothing, Dr.
Morton. A minor tremor , topping only a  2.4 peak
in Anaheim, which lasted, in any one spot, for 
only 20 or so seconds. The EMS room is quiet." 
she said jerking her nurse's capped head at its 
status board, showing all stations at their bases. 
"Not so much as a peep so far from any  
of them.." she meant of the firehouse 
rescue squad departments city wide.

"I see. That's the third alert this month."

"Yeah.."

"I'm feeling lucky, Miss McCall.." he muttered,
changing the subject and he hefted his chart 
in her direction, meaning the patient whose 
data was contained within it.

"Oh?" she toned, up a scale, looking for 
good news. Dixie caught the name of the chart 
Mike was looking at. "Marco Lopez.."
she read aloud,  "How's he doing?"

"Swelling's going down. He's still comatose and
the aberrations on his EKG have gone away.
He's off the respirator, breathing on his own." Mike
said with a half smile.

Dixie looked up still serious, "Is that good?"

Morton's face fell. "It's hard to say.. His
pupils are still fixed, showing deep coma, but
it's encouraging to see he's off life support.
That might be a sign that Kel's steroidal 
treatments are having a positive effect
and that the Narcan has begun to clear
out all traces of Diazepam from his cerebral
tissues."

"When will you know more, doctor?" Dixie
asked. 

"The neurologists say if there's any rallying to be done
by Marco, he's got to show further improvement by nightfall.
If he doesn't respond to stimuli appreciably then,
we'll have to start speculating that this toxic 
coma of his might be permanent."

Dr. Morton walked away after leaving Marco's chart in
the wooden carousel on her desk.

Dixie was left only with immeasurable sadness.
Unconsciously, she looked at her watch.

It was 3 pm..

::Marco Lopez. You've got four and a half hours
to wake up. Or you're never going to, ever.::

Dixie turned back to her work.


--------------------------------


Joanne shook out of a featureless dream, 
jolting awake and she sat up.

Around her, the house was sunny and silent and
the birdsong outside the window soothed her spirit.
Mrs. DeSoto pulled back the curtains and saw
that Shania, too was resting, curled in the sun,
by the dog house outside, oblivious to the jays
bathing in her water bowl.

Grinning at her pet's somnolence, she shifted in 
bed, and saw Roy's broad back as he slept next to her. 
She reached out to caress him once more to reassure
herself of his physical nearness but changed her 
mind. ::It's better he rests. Tomorrow's only going 
to be hard on him, too.::

She looked at the time. It was 4:47 pm.
::Oh my. I've got to go to Bernice's before
her company comes over. What time were they
arriving for her party again? Oh, yes. Five o'clock.
I still have time. ::

Rising carefully, Joanne got on some clothes,
undergarments followed by a soft plaid shirt.

She had just buttoned her jeans when Roy
shifted, complaining that he couldn't hear the 
radio, calling in his sleep that he was "available."

A familiar mothering pang made her go into
the living room for his walkie talkie. She returned
to the bedroom and switched it on to a universal
frequency, so he could hear the usual babble between
the fire departments corresponding with each other
and with dispatch as they went about their day.

She set the radio on the night stand near him but 
turned it low enough so that it wouldn't wake him
if a call went out for his station.

At once, Roy settled down and stopped mumbling.
He grew still again, sinking back into slumber.

::He's most probably listening to it right now.:: she
mused. ::That's just fine. The station is his second home.::

Joanne kissed him and hurried down the street to collect 
the kids from Bernice's.


----------------------------------------------


The lunch dishes had just been piled by Mike who had
been assigned that detail when a knock on the outer 
door caught all of their attentions.  

Puzzled, Cap rose from his chair, leaving the newspaper 
he had been reading on the table. He went to the kitchen's
side entrance access door and opened it.

Kelly Brackett stood there in flight fatigues with a folded
bundle under one of his arms. "Hello Captain. 
Thought I'd drop by and start doing some of
that adjudicating I promised you I'd start doing." and
with that, he barged into the kitchen. He had a field
medical pack with him, a teaching one.

Grinning, Cap got out of his way. ::Time for Operation
WakeUp.:: he thought happily.

"I thought this was your scheduled day off, doc?" John
remarked.

"It is. I'm not really here if anyone asks. Kapeche?"
Brackett challenged.

"Clear as crystal.." Gage said, getting back to his plate
of food. John had an inkling of what his superior was
planning, but hadn't quite yet pegged exactly what
it was yet.

Cap ambled back over to his chair. "Coffee's right over there..
doctor. Have you eaten yet?"

"Heavily.." Kel answered, he grabbed the cup Moreno
hastily pro-offered him after he received a less than subtle 
cue from Cap to give him one.  

Detective Fielder was rolling up his sleeves, his suit coat
over the back of one chair when he noticed the doc
standing next to him, "Oh, hello, Doctor Brackett. Come
to do some paperwork? I was just going to help out here
some.." and he smiled hugely.

"Don't let me stop you. In fact, I just might keep you on
the job, Fielder, afterwards.."

The rest of the gang already knew what was up and gathered
around to watch curiously. Finally, the light dawned on Gage
and he began to chuckle, too.

The detective felt being ganged upon but to his credit, didn't
let it effect him. He stayed relaxed and friendly, "Oh? How,
so..?"

Brackett reached up and pulled off Fielder's expensive clipon
tie and tossed him his folded bundle. "Put these on.. I just
heard from your superiors that you have to listen and follow
every request I make of you..."

Fielder caught the clothes, dropped his dish towel on the counter
and opened them to see what they were. It was a tunic
identical to the one Brackett was wearing. "Well, yes. Technically
that's true..within reason." he answered truthfully, but confusion
still marred his voice.

Brackett grinned diplomatically back, "Oh, believe me. I am being
very reasonable, Mr. Fielder. You see, I've just authorized 
you to be allowed to participate on a paramedic ride along for 
an entire eight hour working shift. That way, you can see what 
our front line medical men do up close and personal. Maybe by 
the end of the day, you'll see just what kind of stresses and 
pressures that men like Johnny and Gil here, face everyday."

Fielder nodded, "If this has something to do with your man
DeSoto... I can't reverse his rescinded license without due
cause."

But he got into the suit without protesting further.

"Fair enough. I am only asking you to ride along with us just
as an observer. Captain... That creates a problem. The squad
can only hold three men.."


Captain Stanley didn't even hesitate. "Sheppard, take the 
rear pumper slot on the engine next call, you're a water man
until situations change it."

"You got it, Cap." Gil said instantly..

Cap held his hands up in a there you go gesture...and got
back to his paper. "Problem's solved, Dr. Brackett."

"Oh." Kel said, blinking a few times, "That was easy.."

Cap muttered from his pages, "Always is when you're captain."

The guys around him laughed until a glare from Hank over
the paper stopped them.

"Need anything else?" Cap asked Kel cheerfully.

Brackett pursed his lip, thinking but Gage finished his
eventual thought. "No..no no.. no... We're set. 
Now all we need is a r--" 



A two tone call went out over the intercom. ##Station 51.
Citizen reports a smell of gas on the 1800 block of Supulveda
Ave. The gas company has been notified. On the corner of Mitchell
and Supulveda. Mitchell and Supulveda.. Time out 16 : 49.##


Moreno remarked, "Hey I know that area.. It's a warehouse district
on the edge of an apartment complex. The site's an empty lot
if I remember correctly."

"We all know that area, Carlos." Cap said, "That's the edge of
the Streger factory wing. Remember them guys? There's a 
track worn in their frontage road from our squad pulling in 
every week to hand out pipeline violations."

"Oh, that's why they're so familiar." Moreno groaned.

The guys got up and moved out. John shouted when Fielder
just stood there.. "Let's go. Let's go. That's us..Get the lead 
out, Fielder..I gotta fit you for a helmet for you to wear..too."  

And he shoved the man to hurry him along.

Brackett took his pack with him.

Cap acknowledged their response, "Station 51, KMG 365."
And then he got on his overcoat.

There was some initial elbow jostling as the bigger Fielder
squeezed into the squad with the smaller Brackett in 
the middle with Johnny taking the wheel but they made
good time and still pulled out ahead of the engine.


Station 51 activated lights and sirens which cleared the busy
boulevard of traffic and both rescue vehicles 
turned left to head north into the suburb district of 
West Lake Village.


----------------------

They stopped about 800 yards from the corner they
were given and halted their vehicles. 

Cap stepped out of the cab of the engine and ordered.
"Everyone put masks and air on until we find 
the problem. I don't want to put anyone at risk 
until we know more.."


"Right." they said.  

Gil got his apparatus on quickly then jogged
over to the squad with a gas spigot wrench.
He tapped Johnny, who had geared up just as
quickly, on the shoulder. "Do you want me to help
him get this on?" He pointed to the detective 
turning straps over, trying to see how
the harness went on.

Gage nodded, and handed his spare tank to Gil
to give to Fielder.  Awkwardly, the tall civilian 
man put on the strange equipment with the fireman's help.

Brackett, already trained and equipped, was ready to go. 
He stood by Cap as Stanley coordinated plans for a search.
"Stoker. Moreno, head east to that substation. See if
you can find anything.  Odegard, Sheppard, head north.
Doctor Brackett, hang back with me. Johnny, take Fielder.
He'll be an extra nose here, pal. Tell him what to expect
and keep..him...safe.."

"Got it, Cap.."

Gil said, "What about me?"

"You're with us. We'll head south. I see yellow gas line
flags over there down in that ditch.. O.K. move out people
and keep in contact via radio at all times. Check in every
five minutes. Move out."


The men split up into their four groups and headed into
four different directions.

Five minutes walking distance from the trucks, the stench
of the nitrous oxide indicator grew stronger.

It was Johnny who found the leak. It was coming from a fresh
crack in the earth. Luckily, a nearby valve was downpipe from
it, sticking up in the open field.   He had spotted it easily.

The day breeze was blowing the deadly gas downwind, away from
the nearby apartment houses to flow harmless over the LA riverbed.

Breathing heavily inside his mask, he brought his radio to
his mouth, "Cap! We found it. Looks like the earthquake disrupted
this line. There's a new erosion crevasse intersecting the pipeline
over here. I have found the shutoff valve.. But I'm seeing clear
signs of further substrate instability.. Over.."

He gestured to Fielder to hand him the pipe wrench.

Dimly the radio in his hand replied. "Got that, Gage.
We've just been notified that the gas company is turning
off service for the whole area in less than a minute."

Gasping through his regulator mask, Johnny tightened the 
emergency valve until the hiss of gas ended.  Then he
pulled Fielder back with him to the road.

Back in clear air, Johnny removed his hazard helmet
and pulled off his face mask.

Fielder joined him doing the same thing.

"Wheow, That was close.. Another five minutes and
that whole neighborhood would've gone up into smoke.."

"How so? It seemed to be such a small leak."
the detective said, eyeballing his unfamiliar breathing
equipment.

Gage watched the indicator on the valve station sink
to zero as Cap's promised gas company shutdown,
happened before his eyes.
Johnny's expression grew very serious. "Fielder, that's natural
gas. It hangs together on the ground like fog and is very
violatile. Even a leak that small can spread for hundreds 
of yards until it encounters someone's open window well. 
After that it's just a matter of time before the gas bank 
encounters a pilot light in the basement. Then, " And he 
gestured a huge explosion..

Fielder paled. "How often does this kind of leak occur?"

Gage sighed wearily, "During every earthquake man, during 
every single, solitary one of them.. This part of town lies in a 
fault line.. My station's been handing out pipeline violations
to this land owner for years. Nothing gets fixed. He's rich
enough from those warehouses to keep up paying all the 
fines."

The detective thought on it. "You think the city would
have planned ahead and not put in those warehouses
over there so near the fault. Even I can see it along
there... and there.."

"Tell me about it.. What you see before you is a good 
example of your typical inane land developer's ignorance 
at work." Gage said sweeping a glove over the landscape 
showing the factories and the riverbed and the field they 
had just escaped.

He stood a moment wiping the sweat from his eyes before
sighing. "All right, looks like the gas has dissipated. Let's
start heading back."

Fielder, unknowingly, stepped back into the field near
the crevasse.. heading towards where the unseen rescue
trucks were parked.

"Fielder! No!! That ground's unstable!!"

But the fragile ground gave way under the big man made
even heavier by the forty five pound breathing apparatus
strapped to his back.

He plummeted into a fast yawning hole.

Johnny leaped and by some miracle, caught him. He grabbed his 
arm at the elbow, "Hang onto me! Hang onto me.."

Fielder gasped, yelling.."Ahh!"

"Give me your other hand, Fielder. Your other hand! Ughhh!!
I got ya..!!" He tried not to watch the earth sink and disappear
underneath the detective's dangling feet. "Don't look down.
Just hang on! I got ya.."

Gage could hear the ground still caving in underneath him
beneath the ribbon of road. Slowly, over agonizingly
long seconds, he hauled the detective out of the 
growing sinkhole and crevasse using the straps from the 
air bottle and finally, using his pants belt, dragging Fielder 
onto the solid concrete road beyond the gaping edge.

Both men collapsed on their sides, gasping for
a minute while they got their wind back.

Then they helped each other to their feet.

Gage looked at Fielder carefully, "You ok?
I just about tore your arm off grabbing ya.."

Fielder shook his left arm, "Good thing I 
work out with weights every morning. Or
I would've been missing that arm.." he leaned
over unsteadily but grinning.

Gage said, "Here, we won't be needing these things
anymore. The gas is off.." And he helped the shaken
detective out of his air bottle equipment.

The radio, by an odd stroke of luck, hadn't
been swallowed in the cave in. It still lay on 
the frontage road. Johnny scooped it up again.

A cloud of dust rose into the air from the crater where the
field had been. "There's no way Cap's going to miss seeing 
that. He's going to come running. Man, that's a big cloud
of debris... I wonder what's happening down there...."

No sooner than the words escaped his mouth, than the 
spidering crevasse grew, sinking in a new crack
straight towards the row of houses and the trees
lining the yards there. 

"Oh, no.." 

He got onto his talkie, "Cap! Cap! Looks like we got us a full
fledged sinkhole in progress. Fifty yards across and 
growing.. It's headed for those homes over there!"

"We're checking it out, pal. Do the same!!" he ordered.

Gage pulled off his apparatus and started running down
the only safe place he could, the concrete road, trying to follow 
where the rumbling crevasse was heading.. Fielder kept up..


Then he saw a large Eucalyptus tree containing
a treehouse. He briefly saw a head in its window
looking up in horror before the whole tree toppled over
from its roots losing purchase in the loosening ground.

Gage heard a male scream just before the rumbling ended.
It cut short just as the massive splintering tree settled
to earth. Silence reigned, the sinkhole was finished
eating. For the moment.

He took a risk and leaped over the crevasse into the effected
backyard.  He turned right back shouting at Fielder, "Go back
to the squad. Get the guys and the medical gear!!  Right
rear compartment. Grab the white, red and black boxes..
We've got a man trapped in here!  Go!!"

Fielder disappeared over the rise pelting away strongly.

Johnny pulled out his radio as he fought his way through 
the jumble of branches. He made sure his helmet stayed
on his head, feeling vulnerable among the cracked tree
limbs jutting all around him.  He got to a heavily
shaded section and saw a nailed wall, partially
crumpled. The treehouse!
"Hey!  Can you hear me?!! "

Only the wind filled the backyard and birdsong.

"Hey!!" Johnny yelled even louder. He couldn't see
anything through the leaves.

Then a moan. To his left.
Gage scrambled over a thick fork of the tree and
down into the shattered house.  His victim
was a teen aged boy, wearing a blue football
jersey.

Johnny got onto his radio.. "Squad 51 to engine
51. I have a casualty." He looked around at the
surrounding houses for an identifying landmark
or house number, none were apparent from his
angle. ::Damn.:: He reached for the boy's neck 
for a carotid. It was there, but fading fast. 

Nor were there any cars or people about in 
the neighborhood. ::Everyone's still at work.::he 
speculated. ::Fat lot of good it'll do me now.
I need someone to tell me where we are...::

"Go ahead, Johnny!" Gil answered back on the 
radio.

Gage got an idea.. "Hang on for a 10 -20.."
he gasped, crouching nearer the teen's head.

He set the radio on a branch and leaned down.
"Hey.. can you hear me?" The boy moaned and 
opened his eyes. "Listen.." Johnny said, holding
his face carefully to keep the boy from moving 
around. "Help's on the way.. but I need to know
what your house address is here."
The young man began to sag in shock.

John dug a pen cap into the top of one of the boy's 
fingernails to rouse him further. "Listen to me.. 
What's your address?? Hey..we're going to need help
getting you out of here."

The teenager gasped at the inflicted pain and didn't 
open his eyes.  But Johnny thought he had been
understood. He moved near the boy's mouth to listen 
as he began to move his lips. "Sev-- nn,  ni.."
The effort wore out the injured teen, he fell
silent, just trying to draw breath..

"All right.. All right.." Gage said, keeping a hand
on the young man's chest. "Just take it easy.
We'll find another way to let them know where we are.."  
he said, beginning to cut open the football jersey to expose 
a soft spot his fingers had found from his assessment, with his
shears. "Just try to relax.."

Gage didn't like the way the teen was breathing.
It seemed that he had broken ribs on that 
discolored left side and a distinct sound of bubbling which
attested to fluid building in his chest. Johnny
mumbled to himself. "Oh great. Pneumothorax.."
::His lung's collapsing..::

But his sweep of the boy's legs showed no fractures
and his back and neck were fine and in proper alignment
the whole way down his spine from what he could feel.

He got back to Gil, clicking the talk button, "Gil,
He said something like.. seven or seventeen or
seventy nine... I can't be absolutely certain.
We won't be able to get a definite address of this house."
Then, he remembered. He fell onto his backup plan.
"Watch for Fielder!! He knows where we are!!"

"I'm on it!" A few seconds later.."I think I see him
a quarter of a mile up the road. Hang on!!"

Johnny could hear Cap and Moreno and the others
calling back and forth to each other, both live and
on the talkie trying to find him. He had done all
he could. He had to start concentrating on keeping
his victim alive now.

He crouched back over his patient. "Hey.. how
are you doing?"

The teen focused uncertainly on Gage's face,
but the nail rub had definitely brought him
more to consciousness.

"I'm with the L.A. County Fire Department..
Saw your tree go down.." he joked. "Quite a sight."

The teen smiled a bit, then winced in pain as something
sharp dug into his side again. "Ow.. something's busted.
I..."

A low rumble made him cut off what he was saying.

A sudden new shift in the ground made a new dust cloud
roar up around them. The shattered tree began to 
"crawl" around them as the sinkhole shuddered into life
once more. The ground sagged beneath them. 

Gage threw himself on top of the kid's face and chest
as a huge section of tree came down on top of them both.


---------------------------


Gil and the other men got together to swap
info. Breathlessly, Fielder shared the news.  

"You say Gage was near the leak on the other side of
the field..?" Cap said, leaning out of his cab, looking
toward the rising dust cloud. He didn't think either the
engine nor the squad were light enough to drive onto
the weakened frontage road. Only the concrete's
rock hardness kept the road in one piece. A lot
of the earth under it, had vanished.  "All right.
Grab your gear, all. We go in on foot. Show us
where he is Fielder.. " He raised his talkie to
his lips. "Engine 51 to Squad 51, come in.."

There was no reply.

"Engine 51 to Squad 51, Come in..."

Still nothing. And Captain Stanley didn't like
the fact that the ground was rumbling again 
from over where Fielder had come running.

Cap leaned in the cab and flicked on the air
horn, hitting it twice in a summons. Then he
shouted over the loud speaker.."Gage!! If you
can hear us... Hit your squelch, buddy.."

They all looked at the Cap's handy talkie,
waiting for the double squeal that was the 
standard reply for any man lost.

The static remained.

Cap got onto his CB radio. "L.A. we've got
a search and rescue operation on our hands.
Roll an additional responding unit to our location.
We've multiple caveins. Casualties involved.
Tell them to use the east road only upon 
arrival.."

"10-4, 51." 

Cap hopped out of the engine and ordered
all to grab extrication and medical gear and
two sets of stokes as he heard the new rescue call
roll out from dispatch following a new set of 
summoning tones.  Station eight was
rolling out to aid her sister station.
"Engine 51. This is station 8. Our eta is...
ten minutes.."

"A long time.."
Brackett who had been listening intently, had
his medical bag. "Would it help if I tried to find
a way in down that lane in front of those houses?"

Cap looked where Kelly Brackett was pointing.
"Couldn't hurt.. Fielder.. You go with him."

Gil handed the detective the biphone and
trauma kit. "You got airways in there?" he
asked the doc about his satchel.

"A ton. I got a D tank in here, too."

Sheppard nodded. "Good, then we'll keep our
O2 on this side of that crevasse. That way will
have a double chance on one of us reaching Johnny
with one of them."

Brackett and Fielder left on the run towards the
tree filled neighborhood's entrance road.

Cap, Gil, Odegard and Moreno ran back down
the frontage road to the site of the leak.
The dust made it hard to see much so they
ran north a bit more until they got into clear air.

The sinkhole was huge, stretching more
than sixty yards across and its far edge had
eaten more than six large trees. Gil's heart
sank. ::I hope Johnny's not down there. He
doesn't stand a chance..::


--------------


Roy woke up, tightening every muscle.
He wasn't yet awake, but he could've sworn
he heard Johnny nearby. Then his eyes
focused past the clock to the walkie talkie
beyond and he heard a pain wracked voice 
again.
"Squad 51 to L.A. Do you ....c- copy?"

Roy flung himself across the bed to grab the
radio.. "Johnny! It's Roy.. Where are you?" 

But Johnny's dry voice just repeated its hail.
"L A. Over.. I'm with a victim.. caught in a
landslide....*ugh*.. I've been injured, do
you read..?"

Roy tried again to contact his partner but
it was horrifyingly clear that Johnny could only send
and not receive on his radio.  DeSoto dressed as
he had never dressed so fast before, into a T and jeans,
and then switched the frequency to dispatch 
headquarters. "L.A. This is squad 51. 
Repeat Engine 51's 10 -20. Emergency.."
He knew dispatch would react to his call sign
anyway, being ignorant of personnel shift assignments
for each paramedic at each station. Roy would get
his information regardless of whether or not he was
on duty.
 
"51, the address was reported as being on the 
1800 block of Supulveda and Mitchell.. Last update,
Engine 51 reported a resolved gas leak, then 
multiple cave-ins. A paramedic is transmitting
but isn't replying to incoming hails. His location
is unknown."

Roy's voice cracked, "That's six blocks from
here..."

He lifted his talkie to his mouth. "10-4, LA. Out."

It was 5:45.  

At the door he caught Joanne and the kids 
coming in."Oh hi Roy.. Bernice offered the kids hotdogs 
at the party and I couldn't resist her fondue." She held
up a crock pot, "Saved you some.."

 Michael launched himself in a child's
greeting at his father and so did the younger
Jessica. Roy caught them into an automatic hug,
but set them down immediately. "Kids, not right now,
Daddy's real busy."

His urgency caught his wife right away.."Roy, what's 
the matter..?" she said, setting the pot on the hallway
table.

"It's Johnny. He's at a rescue just over the hill.
There's been a cave in and I think he's trapped."
As he spoke his fingers twisted the radio back to Johnny's 
frequency.. showing her what he had found.
"My patient's vitals are worse... I think my arm's broken..."
They all heard a pained soaked Gage report.

Roy took off at a dead run around the house after 
snatching up a sweatshirt John had forgotten at his 
house a week ago. 

Joanne ran after him, telling the kids to stay in 
the house and to wait for her.

She met Roy, oddly, in the back yard. He was
undoing Shania's chain.  
"Roy,, I know it sounds bad. But you can't leave
here!.. Aren't you under house arrest?  The
other men on the crew can get help to him.."

Roy looked up from the knot he was untying around
Shania's collar. She was whining picking up the human's
sudden distress. She began howling.
 "I'm going, Joanne! I'll deal with the 
legal consequences later on.  I know that neighborhood.
I've got the best chance of reaching Johnny. Our
house is on the other side of the hill from the cave in..
I've got clear access from this side!"

He knelt by the excited Malamute, grabbing her collar.
"Shania.. "  He thrust Gage's sweatshirt he had 
snatched up under her nose. "Find Johnny.. 
Go. Seek.. Find Johnny. Now.."  He let her
go as the dog latched onto something on the wind
and lifted her head. She took off running uphill towards
Mitchell Road.

Joanne called after Roy, shouting desperately, 
"Oh Roy,, be careful..!"

"Keep the kids inside, Joanne. Don't let them follow
me."

He fought to keep up with Shania, regretting that he had flung
her leash off in his haste to start her tracking Gage.

As he ran, he listened to the radio pressed next to
his ear for more clues.... ::Come on , Johnny. Keep talking.
I'm coming..::


------------------


In the wreckage of tree, Gage was leaning against
a huge limb, favoring his left arm. He suspected
a humerus fracture on himself. ::A simple one.
But enough to cripple me..:: he cursed. He curled
around the teen's head once more as he sent
another radio transmission out on his station's frequency.
"I'm at a treefall, inside a collapsed treehouse." he
cast his eyes around the hidden tangle. "I'm hearing
...water, so I can't be that far away from the riverbed."
he gasped. 

He didn't know if the radio was even working.
A heavy limb had cracked its casing in the last
cave in. 

A moan from the boy drew his attention downward.
"L-Lissst-n.. to  me.. If ...I...on't make it--" the
teen panted.

"Hey, who said you're going to die now?" Gage
told him, adjusting the boy's head and neck to
give him the best airway possible. "Just stay
with me.. all right. You're going to have to keep
awake from now on. You think you can do that for me?"

The teen coughed, and bloody froth bubbled
out of his nose. 

Johnny cursed. ::Yep. Definitely a pneumo. 
A tension pneumo from the looks of it.::
"Hey, what's your name? I see you are
a Pittsburg Steelers fan here." and he
pointed to the teen's cut open jersey,
and nodding.

The teen smiled, "Steven-n.. S- Sure am..
Best team in the whol--" his eyes began to
roll in the top of his head.


Johnny dug his pen back into one of Steven's
nails.. "Hey..   Wake up.."

Steven's eyebrows rose but he didn't open his
eyes.

Johnny told him the reason to fight harder.
"Steven.. you've got to keep awake. I know
how hard it is. But we've got a problem
if you go out on me. I've only got the use
of one arm here." ::If he codes. I won't be
able to do his CPR. :: "Not much I can do
after that to help you. So keep listening
to my voice and try to concentrate on 
staying with me. Ok ? Help is on the way.. 
But you're going to have to just hang in there 
as long as you can. It won't be long now." 
::I hope.:: he amended.


Another nearby rumble created another cloud of
dust and twigs and more branches rained down
on Gage and Steven. 

One caught Gage across his broken arm. 

He blacked out.


-------------------


When he came to, the dust was only slightly less.
::I couldn't have been out long.::

Frantic, he looked over to Steven. A thick tree
trunk about six inches in diameter lay across
Steven's throat. His face was blue.

Groaning, Gage dragged himself over to the boy
and used his legs to push it up and off of
his neck.  He flopped down in agony around his
arm at the pain the effort cost him and gasped
for long tortured seconds.
::Come on. Check him..:: he told himself.

Gage found a weak heartbeat but there was no
sound in his lungs. ::Not even trying to breathe
anymore.::

He dug a hole in the dirt with his good hand until 
Steven's head flopped back opening his airway 
again.  Gage tucked his broken arm into his shirt 
with his other hand, swallowing around his own pain,
then leaned over, giving the boy a couple of short 
breaths mouth to nose, using the grip of his good
hand to hold his jaws shut. It was the best he 
could do with the use of only one arm.
"Come on, Steven!  Don't give up on me now."

The chest beneath his hand didn't rise.

Again, a series of short breaths, this time more
of them, more forcefully, but not enough
to exacerbate the torn left lung.
"Hey.. wake up..!!"

Steven jerked, and began to cough and wheeze
weakly, Johnny used a shred of jersey to soak up 
the blood in the boy's mouth as he began to breathe 
once more. "That's it. Be a fighter.."

He slid his fingers to Steven's throat to monitor the
thudding pulse there.
::Come on, Cap. Find us. We don't even have that golden
hour for this one. We gotta make every second this boy
has count.::


------------------------


Dr. Early and Dixie McCall were bent over Marco's bedside
with an aural scope and penlight. It was almost
six o'clock. The deadline the neurologists had said
would mark the demarkation between a miracle and a
tragedy for Lopez's future prognosis.

It was time for a change.

Dixie handed Dr. Early his different scopes as
he checked inside Marco's ears for the color and perfusion 
of his eardrums.  "They're pink. His parasympathetic nervous
system's made a comeback. Open one of his eyes and shine
this light in it...I want to see if he reacts."

Dixie did so, peeling away the protective tape, soon,
noting again the awful dialation of  Lopez's pupil from the 
norm.  

Dr. Early ordered. "Observe his pupil closely." He raised
Marco's metal chart and brought it sharply down on
the bedside table inches from Lopez's ear creating a
very loud impact sound.

Dixie saw the black circle shrink sharply, then relax
back into its normal size.. "Joe! It's reactive!"

Dr. Early freed Marco's other eye and saw the same
result, "He's coming out of it." And one of his hands
found a waiting epinephrine syringe from a nearby 
crash cart and quickly injected a few cc's of it into 
Marco's IV port.


Joe and Dixie held their breaths.
Then the EKG monitor began to speed up 
into a blissfully normal sinus rhythm.


"Uughhhhhhhhhhh......" Lopez said and blinked.

"He's awake." she grinned.

"Yeah, but does he have any frontal lobe damage?"
Joe wanted to know.

Dixie leaned in, "Marco.. Marco.. Can you hear me?"

His eyelids twitched and he sighed, a rich wonderful
voluntary sigh.. "..w-who wants to know??" 

Then his eyes opened and he smiled with a full intelligence
behind his look at doctor and nurse. "Oh, it's you guys..
Though you were mama calling to me for a sec, Miss McCall."

Joe straightened. "Well. I guess the answer to my last
question is a very resounding,.No." 

"No !!" Dix said simultaneously beaming happily.
"I guess Gage finally gets his dream phone call after all.
she said. 

Dixie reached for the landline on the wall, "Yes,
hospital operator? Patch me through to the fire
department's dispatch. I need to get in contact
with a Fireman Gage at 51's in a relay as soon
as possible. Yes.. I'll hold."

"Hey, what's going on?" Marco asked.

--------------------------------------------------

   
Roy's lungs were near to bursting. He could see
the dust cloud coming from a backyard in the next
row of houses down from where he was running.

In order to make time, he'd have to find a short cut.

Shania seemed to agree. For she took a low hedge fence
in a giant leap into precisely the most direct descending 
yard, whose last fence framed the one the sinkhole
had claimed.  Roy held onto his radio a little
tighter, and shouted into it. "Hang on, Johnny, I'm
coming..! Shania.. locate Johnny. Find him. There's a 
good girl.."

Together, dog and paramedic ran towards the
fallen tree and the debris they could both see
inside of it, 500 yards away. There wasn't any more
dust rising from it, nor were there any more transmissions 
from Gage.

"Johnny!!"


-----------------------





"Mr. Gage?" It was the detective.  "I got your
doctor here."

Brackett leaned over the edge of the sinkhole,
"Johnny how are you? You sound bad..."

Gage looked up even though his head was
beginning to spin, "I'm fine.. Just my arm.
It's this kid I'm worried about.. A 
possible tension pneumo.. He's already
quit breathing once on me.. Get down
here!"

"How? We don't have a rope." Fielder said.




"Use this!" a new voice said, and a good solid 
clothesline was flung down into the hole, 
already tied to a secure tree. 

Fielder gaped, "DeSoto? What are you doing
here? You should be in house custody."

"Yeah well, there's two people who need me
more than any court justice does so I'm going. 
Arrest me later." he said, "Come on, doc. You 
first. You've got the equipment. Me and Fielder 
will hold on to your line until you're down there."

Shania showed her fearlessness and negotiated 
the loose earthen wall, showing the men the 
most solid places to put their feet. She leaped the
rest of the vertical drop and ran to the object of
her search, Johnny. She sat by him, and pawed 
his leg once to show she completed her task.


Roy quickly rigged a seat rope web and 
Kel stepped into it. "Use the same footholds
my dog used. Her instincts are always good 
whenever I rock climb. Should work here."


The malamute rose and went over to Steven, 
staring into his face, whining. She licked
his chin once and barked at Johnny.
"I know. I know...." Gage muttered. "Just
hold on there girl, we aren't as nimble 
as you are.. kay?" he grinned, pushing her
away from his patient's face with his foot,
to make room for the doctor to land near them.
"Ok, doc!! Come on down..."

Kel was lowered to the bottom in record time.
He dropped the rope and unslung his pack, 
opening it.  He paused near Johnny long
enough to see how shocky he was. He
ordered, "As soon as I get this kid stabilized,
I want you to get on a cannula, Johnny.
You'll be more comfortable. Without it, 
you're fair game for passing out. I wouldn't give
you ten minutes more before that happens. 
I don't want the guys to have to stokes you 
out too. That'll slow us all down getting the kid
out."

Gage just nodded wearily. "I will. See to
him first."

"Spoken like a true hero...." Brackett said.

The words weren't lost on the detective 
watching them. He grew thoughtful.

Kel got to work.

Johnny spoke from where he was folded on
the ground, "His head and neck's clear.
No abdominal guarding, no fractures
apart from the ribs on that left side.
His pulse's rising. He's breathing shallow
and he's got rales in that lung, doc.
And I think I heard some crepitus under
the skin over that spongy area."

Brackett felt the site of the rib breaks.
He heard and felt the plastic bubble
wrap like patch Johnny mentioned right 
where he said it would be, "You're right 
Johnny, He's leaking a lot of air here.
Definitely a tension pneumothorax."

But Johnny wasn't listening. He was
watching Steven. "Doctor Brackett..
Check him. I think he's--"

Kelly felt for a neck pulse. He didn't find one.
"He's arrested. Roy! Get down here!! 
Johnny's not going to be able to help me.."

Fielder shouted, "Wait a minute, I can't
authorize that!!  DeSoto can't treat a
man without a license..and letting him
could cost not only my job, but yours!"

Shania began to growl at the nervous stranger
above her. She didn't understand why her
dislike of him grew. Only that it did.

Brackett looked up from delivering 
a breath to Steven before he shifted
to his chest, beginning CPR.
"Do you want this kid to die, Fielder?
Cause most assuredly he will.. in very short
order! Hurry up, Roy."
He shifted his hand position again, keeping
his compressions even to mimimize the
damage internally. "Gage, you stay put.."
he snapped when Johnny tried to move closer.
"Twelve, thirteen, fourteen.."

Then Johnny and Roy's radio came to life.
It was Dixie. "Rampart to Squad 51, guess
who's wide awake and asking for breakfast?"
They all could hear Marco's voice talking
in the background.

Brackett turned eyes on Fielder as soon as
he finished delivering another set of breaths.
"Looks like you no longer have a case, 
detective. Let him pass!! NOW!!!"  

Fielder sobbed, relieved that he was legally
freed and he moved aside, grabbing
the rope. Soon, Roy got to where he
most wanted to be, down to where two lives
could be saved by the skill of his own two 
hands and...a little bit of luck.


--------------------------
"So did he make it?" Lopez wanted to know.

"Of course." Kel said, folding his arms together.
"I was his attending physician."

From the bed next to Marco's, Johnny protested.
"Hey, who was the first rescuer on the scene?
Huh?  Me..." he said. "I should get at least partial
credit for Steven's save."

Chet looked up from his funnies from a third bed,
"Yeah, Johnny, but it was all of you, as a team
that really saved that kid's life.  Even your dog,
Roy."

Everyone chuckled, infectious giggles spreading.

Roy smiled, pleased, and rubbed the sweater he 
was wearing over his arms. "I would have brought 
Shania here to our little get together. But,.. it's 
against hospital rules..now isn't it Dixie?"


Nurse McCall felt put on the spot and
interjected, "Well,.. I didn't make up the rules
now did I? But.... I seem to remember a time where
a certain ER doctor I know once operated on
a goat he himself let into the hospital...
isn't that right Dr. Brackett? Now that,
was an infraction..." she emphasized the last
word.

Brackett wore his best snarly grimace,
"No dogs. Period."

But that ploy just set everyone off again.

A knocking at the private patient room door 
got all of their attentions. Johnny
said, "Hey, maybe it's Cap and the 
rest of the gang.. Come in!" he shouted.

Detective Fielder entered the room with
a box wrapped in gold ribbon.

Immediately the mood in the room chilled.

"I ....uh, hope I'm not disturbing you, fellows..."
he began..

"Who's he?" Marco and Chet piped up simultaneously.

"Shhhh!" the rest of them said.

Finally, Johnny relented, "What do you want
detective.." It was not a question.

"I... wanted to apologize to you, Mr. DeSoto
for my....out of line behavior at the cave-in. I
was more concerned for my own financial health
than I was for the health of that teenager
or your partner here. I..... wanted to make it up
to you fellas somehow.." he set the box
on the bedside table over Gage and slid
it near Roy.  "Just a...small token.."

Chet, Marco, Dixie , Brackett and Johnny,
all looked at Roy to see what he would do
next.

Roy, graciously,  unwrapped the golden
ribbon and opened the lid, looking
inside.  He pulled out a check and read it.
"For the US Firefighters Fund, a sum of
twenty thousand dollars.. Mr. Fielder, I'm 
speechless. This is... this is Station 51's
disaster charity. How did you find out about
it?"

"A little bird told me." he said sharply, right
before it melted into a full warm smile..

Roy looked at Fielder then offered him his
hand in friendship, truly touched. 

Detective Fielder returned the grasp and
smiled slightly. "Put that money to good use.
And... use any extra for, " and he pursed his 
lips, thinking,....".... a sleep 
deprivation awareness class for the next 
fire fighting seminar coming up, ok? Your case
could teach other paramedics about the 
dangers of that risk. Look at what 
we've learned from it."

With that, he left the room. 

Gage fumbled for the box trying to
reach the check with his unencumbered arm.
"A twenty thousand dollar check? No sheet....."
he said incredulously.. "Let me see that..
I've never seen a check for so-"

Something inside the box thunked around
underneath the tissue paper folded there.
"Hey, Roy.. There's something else in
there. I think you'd better take a look."
Johnny said.

Roy unfolded the wrap further and saw...


...his badge and wallet ID.
"Well I'll be... He managed to get
the police case thrown out of court."
A shaft of sunlight sparkled on the badge's
back, making Roy look down. He brought
it up closer to his eyes, "Hey, an inscription's
been put on the back on a tiny plaque."

"What does it say?" Chet said, his funnies
column long abandoned..

Roy tipped his paramedic's badge into
better light and he read..

"To all the heroes who save lives
by their countless thousands at the 
peril of their own. May our need for them
dwindle and become no more."

His eyes misted over, and he said, "Never
knew Fielder was such a poet." 
     

Marco said it all in the end, "Never knew we
were such a tight knit group to even be 
stupid enough to consider doing that kinda hero 
stuff, yyuck.." he said, holding fingers
against his own weepy eyes.

Johnny laughed so hard, his cast hurt, giving 
him the perfect alternative excuse, for his crying.

Dix and Kel left the room quietly to let them heal,
together.


==============================


FIN

@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@

 
Title:    Too Close to Home

Author:   Anotherjaneway 

Contact:  pattik1@hotmail.com

 
Summary:   The gang at Station 51 enjoy Roy's discomforture
                 over planning for a vacation before rotten luck
                 snuffs out those plans once again. Chet is up
                 to a money making scheme and convinces the
                 gang to get in on purchasing a racehorse.

  
                             Too Close to Home


The ball smashed into the far wall with blazing force 
and riccochetted back to hit John hard, in the ribs. 
He looked skyward. "Oh no! It was good! it was good... 
You win the match, Roy.."

Roy jogged across the floor and retrieved the racquetball, 
pulling a sweaty terry cloth band off of his forehead to 
scratch an itch. "Are you sure you don't want to go for a 
rematch?"

"I'm POSITIVE!" John said as he wiped his streaming face. 
"Roy, you've got an edge over me here, you realize? After 
all, you were THE Ojai College All State Champ in 
Racquetball for three consecutive years. No, I don't 
want another game. I'm giving up while I still have some 
dignity left."

Roy DeSoto laughed, "Yeah, I guess I haven't lost the 
knack yet."

"I'll say you haven't.." John's mouth twisted into a 
mischievious smirk. On the way off the court, he shoved
forcefully through the double doors off the court leaving 
Roy to clumsily block their rebound. He chuckled at Roy's 
cry of muffled surprise. 

"Ooff!  Almost got me but not quite good enough, buddy. 
Try harder next time..Anyway...." Roy said, toweling off, 
"Do you want to play again next week?"

John arched both eyebrows. "What?! And get humiliated 
again?! Oh yeah, I really love getting badly beaten everytime 
I come to the club. I pay good money for membership, just
 like you do. So I should enjoy the emotional benefits 
too, like winning...." he hinted.

Roy slung his towel over his shoulders. "Quit being such a 
sore loser, Johnny."

"Listen, Roy,..I've been coming here for the better part of 
...what? Three months? And I've never even come close to 
winning a racquet ball game over you. It gets kind of degrading 
after a while.."

"Now I wouldn't say that.." Roy reasoned once they were in 
the locker room, They peeled off white T-polos and shorts 
and grabbed shampoo bottles and more pastel towels from 
a stack set aside on a rack. "How about in swimming? You 
finish your twenty four laps in nothing flat and plow me
under doing it, too."

"Yeah.." John said, reflecting back on a more gentler note, 
"I guess you're right."

"There you go, Johnny Gage. You DO excel in something 
better than I do.." Roy smiled. He good naturedly took a 
towel crack to the back of his head.
"Let's go shower up or we'll be late for work."

-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=

Fifteen minutes later, the two came out of the club and 
headed for Gage's jeep. John suddenly laughed to himself 
as he shut the car's door.

"What's so funny?" Roy grinned.

"I head you and Joanne are finally cutting loose for a while 
and are going an escape to the San Bernadino mountains 
next month."

"SHhhhhh! Not so loud!" Roy exclaimed, as John backed 
them out of their parking space, "You remember what
happened last year. The subpump failed and flooded the 
basement. The year before that it was the dog, going 
into labor two minutes after we finish packing the car. 
We missed our flight, as you recall. Please,.. Keep quiet
on this thing until after I'm gone. I don't want anything 
to jinx us and have something go wrong again."

"Well, you know.. They say bad luck comes in threes..
and you're only on your second year for cancelled 
vacations.." John grinned evilly.

Roy shot him a look that could kill.

John glanced back at the road, "Easy! Ok., man. Don't
 get so worked up about it. Nothing will happen. All 
right, no more. I won't even mention or THINK about 
your leaving on "...he mouthed the word vacation, 
"..again."

Satisfied, Roy concentrated on combing his hair.

But just as they pulled into the back lot of the Station, 
a sudden thought entered his head. "Hey, Roy..?"

"Yeah?"

John bent close in a stage whisper. "Where are you 
stashing the kids?"

Roy glared at him in utter disbelief. He rolled his eyes 
heavenward.

-=-=-=-=--=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=--=

In the locker room, the gang was engaged in their 
usual prying into yet another one of Chet Kelly's 
brainstorms while they got into their uniforms.

"No, really, Cap." Chet exclaimed. "This is a really 
good deal. I just know it is. Listen..." he gestured 
pointedly.

"That does it.." Marco said, closing his locker door 
with a slam, "I have another one of those feelings 
again, guys." Marco moaned, "Look out! guard your 
pocketbooks with your lives!"

The gang erupted in laughs.

"Very funny, Lopez.." Chet frowned, "Maybe you 
should listen to this, too."

Marco cut Chet off, "Uh uh. No way." He gestured 
to the guys for support. The guys chimed in. The
room chorused negatives.
"You got to be kidding, Chet.."
"Even my mother knows better than to play one of 
your deals." Mike Stoker piped up.
"Nope, not a chance.." Marco agreed.
Cap remained silent.

"Please?!.. Guys.. " Chet said over the din. "Just listen 
for two seconds. What harm can come for just listening 
to a guy, huh? Do I have a say?"

There followed a long silence. Cap's eyes met each 
of his men's eyes in turn. "Guys,.. how about it?" he 
toned evenly. He encountered no opposition so he 
took a deep breath and gave a small nod. "Go for 
it Kelly.."

Chet hooted and, rubbing his hands together, flashed 
an open for business grin. "Ooo! You're gonna love 
this this deal!"

Someone growled, "All right.. Spill it, Chet.."

Chet said, "I'm coming to it. I'm coming to it..Just 
hang on.. Geez..Well, you're not going to believe this 
but I have a friend who's uncle is interested in buying 
Conquistador Cielo's first filly, Cielo Madre. Remember 
her?"

All heads shook no.

"The only filly to ever win a Preakness Stakes by 
fifteen lengths!"



"What about the Preakness Stakes?" A voice interrupted. 

Chet broke off his idea pitching as Roy and Johnnie 
walked through the door. "Oh, hi, Gage,  DeSoto...." 
Chet said, " As I was saying before,, this uncle is.."

"Get on with it!" Mike prompted. His stomach growled 
audibly.

"Yeah,.." Marco agreed, "I'm getting hungry for 
breakfast. And it's your turn to cook, Kelly.."

"O.K., you two turkeys, pipe down. I'm getting 
there. Just.. just hold your pants on.."

Marco shot a glance downward and grabbed his 
suspenders as if they had suddenly gave way.. 
Everyone cracked up. 

Even Chet laughed, in spite of himself. Much 
encouraged, he went on, "I got a phone call a 
few days ago and he asked if I wanted to invest 
in Cielo. I said, Sure.. after an hour's research 
on her history. Did you know she breezed the 
mile and three quarters in just under 1:52 flat?
Anyway.. I told Unc that maybe you guys'd be 
interested in investing with me in the deal and 
to hold off the purchase til this afternoon 
after I gotten an answer from you all. Are you in?"

Silence.

"Fellas!" Chet agonized..

"Well,.." Roy broke the silence, "Wait a minute there, 
Chet...ah, are you absolutely certain that this filly is 
real and legit?"

Chet beamed and let loose a kick at his locker's 
door. It swung open smoothly to reveal a sleek, 
red horse in racing gear hung in a frame propped 
up on Kelly's shelf. The gang crowded round.

John had been quiet throughout the entire 
exchange. Now, he eyed the photograph critically.
"What about her pedigree?"

"Yeah.." the guys agreed.

Chet smiled cooly and pulled out a bundle of 
papers. "Here you go.." he said, handing out 
xerox copies of it to eager hands. "...And here's
the contract of agreement I've brought for 
scrutiny. You fellas can uh,, co-sign with me 
if you want to.."

Roy cleared his throat loudly and got 
everyone's attention. "Chet, uh.. Where's this filly 
going to stay? I mean, it costs a lot of money 
to feed and train a thoroughbred. You'll need a 
good stable, trailer to haul her, a vet, a farrier.. 
Who's going to cover those costs?"

"No problem, Roy, my man. My sister's got a ranch 
in Rock Creek Canyon. Remember? And her hired 
hand is a retired veterinary and an honored
race horse trainer who'll foot the bill for feed and 
board until Cielo's first purses roll in.."

"Hey. hey.." Marco said, "Sounds like the first real 
deal I've heard yet from you Chet. Sounds like a 
golden opportunity, Roy..I'm in!" He snatched the 
contract away from Chet and signed it with a flourish 
with the pen Kelly gave him. "If I strike it rich, maybe 
I can take mamma to Hawaii.."

"Rich?"
"Sounds good to me.."
"O.k."
"Oh boy!"  The room was quickly filled with the sounds 
of "me too's" and pen scribbling. Roy was the last to 
get the contract. He waited, pen over paper over 
the signature line. "How much money Chet, did you 
just con out of these guys just now? Can you tell me 
that?"

Chet looked distinctly uncomfortable. He answered in 
a meek tone, "Ah..only *cough* ...$425 dollars a piece. 
But fellas--!"  When they started to growl.

Roy through up his hands, "That's precisely my point. 
There's always a deposit first.. This is TOO easy guys. 
Think about it. Do people really buy racehorses everyday 
of the week? I think you guys got suckered, no offense, 
Chet, on this deal." Roy turned, dropping the pen without
signing.

John gripped his arm, "Just wait a minute.. you mean 
you aren't going to do this. It's a sweet deal, Roy."

Roy sighed an incredulous sigh. "If you've never even 
seen the filly yourself, how do you know what her 
temperment is like, huh? Do you know how she'll 
react on the track after being coached by strange 
people..?" He pointed to Chet..

"Oh. Ha. ha." Kelly protested.

Roy went on.."Also, that Preakness she was entered 
in was a fluke. Three of the favorites were scratched 
for influenza and the rest of the field was a bunch of 
green colts. Those odds weren't all that hard to beat. 
And those fast workout times really don't tell us much 
about her ability because the element of competition 
with a full sized field is something Cielo Madre's
never faced!" 

Roy's words fell on deaf ears.. 
The whole gang was clustered around Chet Kelly as 
he proudly displayed the computer statistics on his 
filly and her workout times. Roy threw up his hands 
in the air and finished changing.

John tapped Chet on the shoulder, "Hey Chet? When 
does the deal get underway?"

Chet's eyes gleamed.. "Today.. After my sister buys 
her, we'll trailer her off to the ranch where the trainer 
will work her out. This afternoon! Man, I can hardly 
wait to ease myself onto that saddle! She'll be like a 
dream, I'm sure.."

"Hey" Marco crowed, "That's right. It's your day off 
today..."

Chet was very pleased with himself. "Yep. Moreno 
from 36's has to make up some hours so he's covering for me."

John regarded Chet thoughtfully, "Hey, Kelly.  Have 
you ever ridden a racing thoroughbred before?"

Chet turned to him collecting checks and contracts 
from the gang. "Hmm? Oh, my sister Marj and me grew 
up on horses. I've ridden ever since I was a kid. Well, 
gotta run or I'll miss Unc at the auction! I'll call ya all 
after the first workout..!"

"See ya, man.." John waved.

Chet breezed for the parking lot.

The rest filed into the kitchen where 36's Joachim Moreno 
had already  spread out eggs, bacon and toast.

Mike Stoker said, "This is our lucky day.. Not only do 
we get a chance to get rich on a racehorse, we don't 
have to suffer Chet Kelly's cooking.."

John chuckled, "Don't say that in front of Kelly when 
he's here or we'll die for sure next time from his OVER
burning food. I'm almost getting used
to his sushi slash bacon.."

All the guys laughed.

John followed Marco, setting plates at the table and 
silverware. He handed Roy his blue and white paisley 
mug of coffee. "You don't know what you are missing 
Roy.." and he stuffed a whole muffin into his mouth, 
sitting down.

Under his breath, Roy replied as he studied the newspaper,
"Oh, yes I do."

-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=


At Rampart General, in Treatment Room Three, a man 
sat impatiently on a gurney. A prim nurse adjusted the 
flow of his IV's flow rate and marked it in her chart. He 
watched her dispassionately. At last, he grumbled, 
"Is Brackett coming soon? I know he's on today.."

The nurse blinked, "I suppose he knows about you and 
is on his way to see you right now, Ron.."

"Mike!" he snapped and immediately regretted the action. 
"Oww!" He slumped back onto the table seriously considering 
biting his own left foot off at the ankle. The RN deftly slipped 
up the side rail on the bed as he reeled  about. "What did 
you do that for? I'm not going to fall out." he frowned.


"That's what they all say..." she burbled sweetly and 
adjusted his covers.The man slapped at her hand. She 
stepped back, shakened.

Finally, Brackett really did open the ready door. He was 
met with a complete surprise. He did a double take folding 
his arms across his elbows in amusement. The crabby 
man he had heard bellowing out in the hall, was Dr. 
Morton..!   "Well. well. well... Look at this.." he chided 
sympathetically. He took in Mike's angry expression and 
one very sore, air splinted ankle. "What has fate brought 
your way today, Mike?" he delivered casually.

"Don't ask, Kelly. I don't want to talk about it." Morton 
grumbled, shifting uncomfortably on the bed.

Brackett simply grinned, "Fine. I'll get your story from 
her. Please read the run sheet to me, Nurse."

"Yessir.. Apparently, doctor,.. the young patient--"

"Young patient?  Young patient! Let me inform 
you, Nurse,   Nurse.." he  snapped his fingers irritably 
at her, "Your name!" Morton said gruffly.

Startled, the RN blurted out, "Evans!.. Carol Evans.."

"Evans." Morton snapped, "I inform you now , since 
you are new to this floor and this hospital. I am on 
the resident staff in this department and I expect to 
be called by my full name DR. Morton at all times if 
..you..don't...mind.." he said dangerously.

"Yessir! I...I mean, doctor..uh...?"

"Morton!" he boomed.

"Dr. Morton!" She stifled sudden tears.

Finishing up the BP reading he was getting on Mike, 
Brackett frowned when he saw the tears on his 
nurse's face. He had missed something truly harsh he 
guessed. "Mike, lie down."But it wasn't hard to figure 
out just what had occurred while his ears had been 
blocked by his stethoscope.

"What?" the young black doctor said, still fuming.."But 
I have to tell this newbie nurse that.."

"Mike.. For all practical purposes, she outranks you, 
for you ARE a patient now. And as your acting 
physician, I ORDER you to be quiet and stop 
harrassing Miss Carol." he said, pushing his voice 
louder than Mike's, "You'll aggravate your 
condition..! Already, your BP's a little high.." 
he shook himself, "Nurse, clean out that cut 
on his forehead, will you please?"

"With pleasure, doctor.." she said vehemently and 
she bustled some peroxide into a sterile basin.

Dr. Morton glared at Brackett but he complied  
and laid himself flat and off of his elbows. He let 
out his breath in a hiss. "I'm sorry, Kel. I really 
don't need to be here. Just get me a bandaid 
and some ice and I'll be just f-- Owwww!!"  Mike 
swatted at the cotton dabbing his head.

"Ah, ah ah.." Brackett warned, waggling a finger.

Morton snorted. He sat on his hands dutifully.

"Now..." Brackett began, thoroughly amused at 
Morton's sour social mode. He began by beginning 
an assessment, checking out his injured co-worker's
 bruised body by probing belly and tapping on his 
ribcage for percussion sounds.  "Tell me what
 happened, Miss Evans.. Since our patient would
rather not disclose any information at this time. Tell me 
what Mr. Morton told you before he got surly."

"That's Doctor Morton.. Not Mr. Mort--"

Kel silenced Mike with a gesture and a challenging 
look that bordered on serious professional 
discipline. "Go ahead, nurse."

Confident under Brackett's protection, she relayed 
the details."Well, about an hour ago, the paramedics 
brought in the PATIENT with a probable left fractured 
ankle due to a fall. He was found unconscious with 
no indication of spinal or neck injury. He promptly 
regained consciousness with a sternal rub and
complained of soreness to his head as well as 
that ankle. Patient remarked also that he had 
fallen on his b--"

"Wait just a damned minute here..!" Morton 
interrupted, sitting up. Brackett pushed him down 
again with a practiced hand, not caring
about the pain Morton received from the jarring.

"Go on, please.." he said to Evans.

"On his pos-ter-ior, sir. There were no apparent 
injuries I could see other than the bruising on those 
three areas. He was in considerable discomfort in 
that last region but his vitals are  stable.. and 
intact.. I checked." she said acidly.

"You better mean, blood pressure, lady!" Morton 
spat.

"Of course, mister. What else would I mean?" she 
said levelly.

Mike reddened, caught off guard. Brackett choked 
down a laugh, "ahh,,from what distance did he fall?" 
He pretended to be busy writing in his chart.

"According to the paramedics.., Mr. Morton slipped 
on a peel--"

"Newspaper!!"

"..BANANA peel and fell down eleven stairs, about 
nine feet, onto a bark path. The stairs themselves 
were wooden, Doctor. He refused a pain hypo at 
the scene."

"Thank you, nurse. You may go."Brackett said.

"Anytime, sir." she fairly fled out of the room, wiping 
away smeared mascara and some of her tears.

Soon, the two doctors were alone.

Morton propped himself up on an elbow, highly 
miffed. "Did ya have to do that?" he asked of his 
colleague.

"Of course..!" Brackett yelled back. "You were 
acting like one of those "gomers" you hate so much."

Morton's eyebrows retreated into his hairline in 
surprise. His anger melted away. "I was?  Hmmm..   
"G-et....O-ut...of  M-y E-mergency..R-oom; GOMER."
Morton reflected.. "Nice acronym.. Sorry... I guess 
I was a bit of a gomer to her."

"Umm hmmm." Kel grunted in affirmation, holding
Morton's splinted foot in his hands. He studied 
the blood oozing there. He was still visibly 
charged about  Morton's unprofessionalism and 
rudeness.

Morton watched him and said at last, "You know.. 
I'm really sorry I treated her like that. I..just don't 
like pain, nor being helpless like this at my own work 
place."

Brackett grunted again, shining his pen light into 
Mike's eyes. "Your pupils are equal and reactive. 
Guess that was just plain natural surliness. Instead of
cranial complications, DOCTOR."

Morton actually looked cowed.

"Follow my finger.." And Kel watched how Mike's eyes 
tracked the pattern he drew into the air. "Good."    

He turned his attention back to the clear plastic 
splinted ankle. Gently, he tested its range of motion.
Mike looked away, trying not to flinch.

Brackett arched an eyebrow, "You're sure you don't 
want a pain med?  You don't have a concussion from 
what I see. The medics were right about that."

This brought a stormy battering of protest from the 
prone man, he bolted upright, brandishing a finger 
in Kel's face about to let loose some blistering  
thoughts.

Kel folded his arms levelly."I'm ordering one.. You're
lips and gums are already two shades lighter than 
they were five seconds ago."

Morton sputtered on, but stifled himself from saying 
any true words.

Brackett moved to the phone and made a call. A 
second later, the double doors parted, revealing 
Nurse Evans, brandishing a hypo and a cotton wad 
for viewing. "Into the upper gluteus maximus Nurse, 
if you wouldn't mind.." Kelly said, smiling at her and 
winking.

Morton choked, "Kel, you're not serious.. I'm one solid 
hematoma down there."

Brackett made for the door coolly with his chart, not
 looking nor answering back.

"Kel, wait! No.." Morton said, "You know damned well  
I can get that med through my IV line. Please.. I'll be 
more polite! I promise.. Kel, don't go! Kel!!  OWW!!!!"

And the swinging doors snapped out the sound as 
Brackett left the room. Dixie McCall turned toward 
the blood curdling scream curiously, as Brackett 
handed her the chart, "Just desserts.." he remarked, 
and left.

Dix puzzled over that comment a moment until she 
read the name on the face sheet. It took her only 
moments to put two and two together as it was she 
who handed Evans some tissue just a bit earlier as 
she emerged from that treatment room.  It took 
five minutes for Dixie to stop laughing and compose
herself enough to return to her head nurse desk 
station.

-=-=-=-=-=-=--=-=-=-=--=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-

Dispatch clicked a two toned alarm for station 51. 
It brought everyone on the run into the garage.
##Station 51. Truck 127, Battalion 14, Unknown 
type rescue. At the Everest Stadium Complex. 4000 
Kenwood Boulevard Cross street, Marquette. 4000 
Kenwood Blvd. /c/  Marquette. Manager requests 
assistance to the second level tiers grandstand, 
east side. Time out 08:47.##

Helmets and jackets pulled on as Cap 
acknowledged their running status, "Station 51, 
10-4, KMG 365."

Moments later, the squad rolled down the 
driveway closely followed by the  engine. Their 
reds activated and air horns blasts cleared the 
highway of traffic. They sped towards their 
destination....

-------------------------------------------

TITLE   SEQUENCE

-------------------------------------------

Brakes screeched to a halt before a high tech 
modern building. A very hassled man in an 
orange shirt and tie ran outside to meet 
them.

"What's the problem here?" Cap said as he 
stepped out of the cab of the engine, "Is there 
a gas leak?"

"No sir, ..ah, nothing like that. I'm one of the 
janitors. You people  are going to have to come 
with me and see for yourselves. The 
police are rather busy right now...."

Everyone followed with their gear. Roy and John 
with their O2, Defib, IV, Splint and Trauma boxes. 
They kept on their overcoats to save time. Roy
 looked at John with a what's this gesture.
Cap shrugged, mulling over the mystery while he
 adjusted his walkie talkie to a receiving sending 
mode with the engine's radio. No one knew what
 to expect.

John Gage was the first onto the second level
deck when he hollered, "Look out!!"

He promptly kissed dirt.

A well aimed beer bottle shattered musically on the brick wall 
near his face. The glass caught him and he sat up, gloves
over his face.. Pissed, John yelled aloud.."Ahhghh ahhh!"
He sounded more disgusted to Roy than in pain. 
He ran to him. "Johnnie? Are you all right?" He crouched
down, pulling Gage's hands away.. John's face was streaming
red.. (Marco winced..) with stale Killians beer...!

"Agh!!  *cough* " Johnnie shouted, thoroughly grossed out
at the sour smell, "This has got to be the worst!" he sputtered.
and he spit some of the foulness out of his mouth.

"What th--?" Cap scratched his head, looking about. Men
and women were fighting in the stands while hoards of police
officers tried to stop them in any way possible.
he gestured and all of his men slapped down their face shields
on their helmets as two more beer bottles, hit the wall 
near them.

Roy rocked back on his heels, visibly relieved. "Here.." he 
began "You'll need this.." he clapped down John's helmet 
shield. Gage grinned sardonically, "A little late wouldn't you 
say?"


A cry ripped the air..

A new voice shouted, "Watch out!!! Incoming!!"
CRASHHH!! A vending machine narrowly missed flattening 
Mike Stoker, whose log roll out of the way was barely 
executed in time.

The owner of the voice mounted the grandstand stairs 
and observed all the firemen lying belly down, with 
their gloves over their necks, staring at the machine 
which had nearly landed on their engineer.
He cleared his throat, chiding them..

It was Vince, with a handcuffed gang member.

Everybody clambered to their feet.

Vince chuckled, "Some war zone huh? Stick around boys. 
The fun is just beginning.." Vince dragged his charge 
behind him and stopped before Lopez. He rapped a 
knuckle on the plexiglass shield over Marco's face. 
"Wish I had one of those...."

Pputth! A rheumy glob of spittle caught Vince in the 
eye just then. He wiped it away with a glove, shooting 
an acid look at the spit's source. The Cuban suspect 
grinned dangerously and chewed his tobacco some 
more.

"He might be your first victim,, fellas!!" Vince exploded.
He pushed the kid ahead of himself, none too gently..
"Come on!! They disappeared noisily through the gateway.

Cap made a small noise in the back of his throat. "Why me?"


Vince's partner made the top stair. John and Roy approached
him cautiously, widely avoiding another handcuffed thug 
in tow. "Blake.." John asked, "How did all this get started?" 
Roy could only gape at the melee  around them.

"It appears one gang leader got insulted by a rival gang 
leader's girl. He slapped her. Her boyfriend then slapped 
the gang leader.. Then..."  And he threw up his hands 
dramatically,.."The rest is history in the making! yes , 
folks. An instant all nighter for half the police force in 
LA county. Have fun!!"  

He, too disappeared to the street but soon returned 
with fifty handcuffs minus the prisoner. The cop 
regarded the dumbstruck  firemen wanely.."They 
all met here for a rumble,, to 'Even the score.' A
 pause.. "Hey, listen... We're having a hard time 
subduing this thing, Captain Stanley.." Blake 
admitted. "Do you have a suggestion on how to 
go about doing that? As you can see, physical 
restraint has no effect.."

A huge brute was pounding the face of another man 
to a pulp nearby. A county cop vaulted onto the 
aggressor's back, confident his action would distract 
the fighters.. Oh it did, all right. Both combatants 
hefted the hapless cop over their heads and heaved.

The young officer sailed over rows of seats to thunk
hollowly on top of a closed concession stand. The 
sound of the impact could be heard even over the 
noise of the crowd riot below.

Roy winced openly and the two paramedics brought 
their gear over to the dazed rookie cop while Blake 
gave them some cover with a riot tear gas rifle and 
some mild threats to anyone who came near them.

Cap looked around and gathered recently interrupted 
thoughts.He bit his lip and made a decision, "Ah, Marco?"

"Cap?"

"How far would you say we are from the engine?"

"About 400 yards."

"Terrific.. That's a short enough distance. Do me a favor
huh? Would you and Mike rig two inch and a half's and 
bring them up here? And turn on the refrigeration unit!"
he shouted after his men's retreating backs.

Blake frowned, "What for?"

"Pest control." 

Blake split a gut at that.

The nearby Batallion chief strode through the doors and
calmly surveyed utter chaos. He radioed out.
##LA, this is Chief Blachek. Dispatch three more 
additional fire units and send six ambulances to our
location.. We're gonna need them.##

##This is L.A. 10-4, Battalion..##

A short distance away, Roy and John checked out the 
unfortunate police man they had just stokes rigged
to the ground.

"Did you see how far that stinking offal threw me?! I'll
tell ya.. NO ONE assaults a law enforcement officer and
gets away with it..!"

The kid ripped out of his stokes straps and rose
to his feet shakily, shedding shards and a BP cuff.
He went for the grappling leaders. Roy and John
dove, each grabbing for a leg and tackled the
hot headed kid cop back to the ground.

Johnnie shouted as he struggled to hold his
patient still, "Come on now! Do you really want to get 
MASSACRED? Just stay put and let us do our job." 
He readjusted his helmet out of his eyes. It slipped
down again on the slick beer in Gage's hair. He finally
gripped the whole thing in his hands and flung it off
to Blake.

The zit faced kid rolled over painfully, facing his two
paramedics. He gave way into a cute fit of temper.
"Fine!! I'll stop! But just how do you suppose we'll
stop them?"

Roy simply smiled and pointed toward the infield. 
"Just watch.."



Several teams of firefighters appeared in a ring around
the riot. They spouted jets of cold ice water onto the 
crowds below. Whole gang clusters tumbled about like
nine pins.

Vince's voice floated around the stadium PA system.
"People! Listen up! "  Marco's voice followed his words
a second after with a translation in Spanish..
"You're all under arrest! Put down your weapons
and surrender to the police officer nearest you. Comply
instantly, or get another free bath, compliments of the LA
county fire department.."

Knives, chains and broken bottles dropped to the turf.
Droves of cops herded the worst offenders via handcuffs 
to paddywagons peppering the infield.

John and Roy finished assessing the dazed rookie and began
to gather up their gear. "Well outside of a few scrapes and
contusions.. You're in pretty fair shape.." Roy said.

John added, "You should schedule an appointment with your
family physician just to be on the safe side if you begin to
feel shaky again, all right?"

The cop was sheepish. "Thanks, guys.. I'm sorry if I caused
so much trouble." he said, wincing as Roy put a dressing onto
a minor cut on his temple.

He stood as soon as Roy finished, offering his hand to John
and Roy. They shook it, "Don't worry about it. Take it easy
now, you hear?"

The young kid waved, heading down towards the field to 
help in the round up. "Right.."



Suddenly, a large woman broke away from her officer right
behind the firemen. She lunged at another nearby rival who
was also handcuffed and being led away. The force of the 
blow bowled the man over the rail of the tiers. Restrained,
he failed to counterbalance and save himself from
falling. He landed thirty feet down onto the astroturf below.

The woman was furious.."You gringo!! Come back here!!"
she screeched at the fallen man. Four cops led the struggling
Cuban away as John and Roy pelted down the steps to the 
field. Mike Stoker was right behind them.

John smelled blood but felt for a carotid. He looked up into the 
grandstand. "Cap! Get a backboard and some sandbags!. He's 
going to need a C-Collar!"

Marco yelled down to him. "I'll get the O2!"

Roy made sure the man had an open airway by pulling up his jaw 
carefully without moving anything else, neck or spine.
Mike took over the hold.

John began to check for fractures at the man's head and worked
his way down quickly.

The cop, who had been apprehending the gang member, frowned,
"You mean he's still alive?" He didn't bother to conceal his racial
distain at all.

"I'll just bet that spoiled your day..!" John spat with open sarcasm.
Gage tried to get the leather coat off to expose a chest wound
but the cuffs interfered. "Would you mind?? " he prompted to the
hate filled cop.  

The officer stiffened up "No way! This guy's the ring leader!" 

Beneath the paramedics hands, the man heaved, choking on blood.
His ragged breathing cut off abruptly. John placed a hand on his 
chest.

"Roy? He quit breathing..."
John frantically set up a suction tube and turned it on, 
passing it over to his partner. 

DeSoto took it, but soon, shook his head. He couldn't see 
anything in the way inside the man's mouth as he probed 
with the hissing tube, even with Mike helping him expose 
the area to light. "He must be obstructed deeper down, 
Johnnie."

"I got it..."
Gage straddled the leader's legs but couldn't get a firm 
positioning to  start a Heimlich attempt, because of the 
cuffed and hobble chained limbs in his way over the man's 
stomach. John looked up angrily at  the cop who just 
watched him struggle. "Get over here! What's  the matter 
with you?! These damned chains are in my way..! 
Do you want him to die?"


The gang leader's skin started to purple with hypoxia.

"He's not going anywhere, man!!" Roy shouted at
the obstinent cop.

Running footsteps approached. "Release him!! Do it , officer!"
It was Vince..

The other cop hesitated. 

"NOW!!"

He didn't move.

Vince ripped the keys away from the officer's belt and 
freed the  choking man's cuffs being careful not to jar 
him around.

Johnnie was able to clear the man's airway seconds 
after he was able to reach his abdomen. He forced 
out the obstruction with a few well placed thrusts 
and felt the blocked off lungs finally give way into 
a release of air moments later.

Roy's suction tube did the rest of the work, removing 
teeth and blood from the man's torn mouth and throat.

Marco arrived, running, with the O2 apparatus, handing 
off a demand valve mask to Stoker.

The man began to gasp once again. He drew in Mike's 
forced oxygen through the respirator well without much 
assisted positive pressure from Stoker. His face and 
hands began to pink up again. Roy and John sighed 
in relief. The crisis was over. 

"That was too close, Vince.. He almost killed this man!"
Roy exclaimed, pointing a finger at the prejudiced cop. 
But that was all he had time to say before the task at hand
drew him to work quickly to preserve his patient's life.


Vince whirled into the face of the obstinent cop. 
"I'll deal with you later lieutenant!"

The lieutenant's jaw tightened. He said nothing. He turned
and walked away.



Vince turned his back on him. "Need help?" he asked the two 
medics, his voice toned quietly as he kneeled beside them.

"Yeah.." Roy said, "Could you support his head? Mike can't do
that ventilating him. We've got to roll him onto the backboard."

"Right."

He did so, and soon, the Station 51 crew had the unconscious
man safely immobilized. Cap set up the biophone while Roy examined
the man's pupils. John got a set of vitals and phoned it in to Rampart.
##Rampart, this is Squad 51, do you read?##

----------------------------

At the substation, a red light began to flash. Dixie set aside her chart
and entered the glass enclosed ready room. She acknowledged the 
call, hitting a toggle switch. "Unit calling in, please repeat.."

##Rampart, this is Squad 51. We have a male, approximately twenty
four to twenty five years of age. He took a fall from the second tier
of a stadium box. I'd say he fell about twenty eight feet onto the 
astroturf field. He's unconscious. He has multiple fractures of both 
arms and five ribs along his left side. Both limbs are profusing well.
He had an airway obstruction. Now breathing on his own. 
Victim has been immobilized, C and lumbar spine, and is on 15 liters of O2. 
Vitals are: BP 68 over 42, respirations striderous and 
irregular at ten, assisted. Pulse is thready and weak at 140. Stand by for 
pupils..##  He pointed at Roy who began to relay him the information.

"Standing by, 51." Dix replied.

Dr.Brackett walked in. "What do we have?"

"51's got a heavy trauma case. A man who fell about thirty feet onto
an astroturf field at the Stadium. It doesn't sound good." 

Brackett skimmed over Dixie's notes intently while Johnnie filled him in.

##Rampart.. The pupils are responsive but the right one is slightly 
dilated. There's also evidence of bleeding from both ears. Also, I 
have noticed a soft spongy region on his lateral left side. There
is a wound but it is non penetrating. Rampart.. ventilating him
is proving somewhat difficult due to mouth injuries. We've already
suctioned around 400 cc's bright red blood and dental debris. Request
permission to insert an esophogeal airway.##

"Go ahead on the airway, 51. I suspect a tension hemo-pneumothorax
due to that flail chest on the left side. What kind of breath sounds
do you note?" Brackett asked.

Roy listened to the man's breathing carefully with a stethoscope while
John intubated the man. Roy picked up the phone and watched as
Mike connected the demand valve to the airway in the man's
throat. The bleeding there was slowing somewhat. Marco was getting
little if anything into the suction reservoir now.
##Rampart, the esophageal airway's in place. I hear bronchial rhonchi
on the right side. Absent breath sounds on the left.##

"10-4 , 51. Start two large bore IVs, both 1000 cc Normal Saline and 
run wide open. Run in 500 cc's then continue TKO. Apply a five pound
weight to the victim's left side and reevaluate breath sounds." 

##10-4. Two large bore IV's 1000cc NS, One to 500 cc, then TKO.
Applying an immobilizing sandbag now.## DeSoto reaffirmed.

Marco got a sandbag from the stokes and taped it right over the broken
section of ribs on the man's chest. Roy checked out his lungs once more
once it had been secured and smiled. He picked up the phone.
##Rampart, breath sounds are now present on the left side. Victim's 
color is improving.##

Brackett sighed visibly. Dixie echoed.

John had finished starting the IV's and handed them up to a pair
of waiting hands.

"10-4, 51. Uh..Draw a red top for a type and cross. Continue to 
assist ventilating and transport as soon as possible. Keep your
patient's head elevated for that possible skull fracture and splint
any additional dislocation breaks you find."
Kelly said. "Give me another set of vitals and send me a strip
once you're en route."

"Ten four, Rampart..Our ETA's twenty minutes.." Roy concluded.


Vince watched all of this in amazement. "That trick with the
sandbag.." he said to Cap. "How did that help him? I mean,
who'd put a weight on someone's chest with broken ribs
and all?"

Marco stood after helping load up the gang member onto the
ambulance attendant's gurney and covering him up.
"The guy couldn't breathe well because
most of the ribs on that side were caved in. Every time he
breathed out, that area would push in and vice versa when he
inhaled. His lung couldn't fill easier because of the lack of 
pressure inside. The sandbag splints the flail section even 
with the rest of his ribcage, so that lung can expand normally
again."

"Huh." Vince reflected, "I learned something new today.."

Ambulance attendants bundled the man, Mike with respirator,
backboard and all into their rig which they had backed
into the infield. They secured the stretcher straps while
John took over for Mike and maintained the O2 vents
with an Ambu bag while they switched tanks to the 
ambulance's oxygen supply. Mike exited the ambulance.
Roy set the bi-phone and the drug box and defibrillator next
to John afterwards and closed the doors. The second attendant
remained inside. 
Finally, he handed off the squad's O2 apparatus back to Cap.
who hustled Marco to run it on ahead to put it away for Roy's 
follow along trip behind the ambulance.

"Think he'll make it?" Vince asked Roy.

"He'll have a tough time in surgery with all of those fractures.
But, hey,, he's a gang leader. You can't be weak willed to do
that. I think he'll make it.."  Roy slapped on the back doors,
sending the ambulance off to speed its way to Rampart through
the main gate leading to the outer streets.

Vince watched it diminish. Cap ambled up next to him..
"Yishhh.. What a mess.."

Vince agreed, "You're telling me.. That odd officer boy's gonna 
face attempted murder one, right behind that gang's woman."
he promised. He drew out his handcuffs to go get 
the cop who hated too much.

Cap drew out his walkie talkie and nodded  sadly.
"L.A., this is engine 51. All units out hour.."

##10 -4, 51.## ( Spap.) 

-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-
 The emergency reception desk was quiet for the middle of the day.
John and Roy had cleaned up and they cradled their supplies while
nursing coffee cups. Dixie McCall refilled all of their mugs to the
very brim.

"Whoa!" Johnnie said, almost upsetting his loaded box, holding up
a hand, "Sounds like you're having just as trying day as we are."
he laughed, his mouth crooking up on one side.

Roy smiled tightly, "We had a rookie lieutenant who wouldn't
uncuff our choking victim. He almost coded right there on us."

"Really..?" Dix said, horrified. "How so?" 

"Johnnie here couldn't get good access to clear the obstruction
because of all the man's hobbling body chains. That officer
actually left him to turn blue rather than help us."

Dix sighed deeply. "Sounds heavy. Are they going to press charges?"

"Oh, yeah,," Gage said, "And I'm first to their witness stand by choice,
believe me. It's scum like that I can't stand. And he's an officer 
in the force for Pete's sake. He made our gang leader victim seem
like a saint by comparison."

She nodded appreciatively, "Yeah.. it seems like we BOTH
had troubles with authority figures this morning."

John blinked, "Authori-- ?  Who'd you tangle with?"

"A doctor..."

"Brackett?" John snorted.

"No..no no.. Nothing like what you're thinking, or with him."
She thrust her jaw out with thoughtful amusement. "Maybe you
fellas should see for yourselves.."

"See what?" Roy wondered.

Dixie merely crooked a finger, motioning for them to follow her
to....

"Treatment room three?" John exclaimed.

Dixie nodded, "Uh huh. Though you'd better leave your coffee 
cups out here, or he's bound to tear your throats out getting to
it."

"Oh?" Roy toned, up a scale. They placed their boxes on the floor 
and coffee cups in a drinking fountain alcove. "I wonder who?"

"SHhh!" Dix turned, a finger to her lips. "You'll wake him."

They all peered inside.

The room was slightly darkened and a familiar form snored on
the table. One foot was in an exterior fixation frame, all wrapped
up in fresh, wet dressings.

"Morton!" John gasped, grinning from ear to ear. 

Dix nodded knowingly, "Right from surgery.."

Two orderlies arose in their chairs in the back of the room
looking sleepy and concerned. Dix waved them back 
reassuring them. "It's just us, guys.. Checking in on Mr.
Congeniality.. Has he stirred yet?"

Two heads jerked side to side. 

"Oh. See ya.." she burbled, and closed the door.

Roy and John barraded her with questions as they retrieved
coffee and supplies..

"Hold on guys. First things first. Mike had a little accident
this morning on the way to work. Slipped on a banana peel."

"What?" John laughed. 

Dix held up supplicating hands, "It's true, Johnnie. Knocked
himself cold. Anyhow, did he raise holy heck around here.
Drove half my nurses batty. Brackett was nearly out of 
his skull, too, with him. That ankle had to be set in surgery. 
Morton said, "Surgery? O.k. Just so long as it's set and put in a 
cast and I'm out of here, tonight!! I work in a hospital,.. I don't
need to be here when I'm hurt, too." She gave a high laugh.
"Oh! The ego of the man." She was laughing so hard she didn't
hear Roy's next question. "And what's that?" she said to
him, breathless, sipping her coffee.

"Why is he down here?" Roy said, "After recovering in PAR,
shouldn't he have gone to one of the floors?"

John added another one, "And why were those two guerillas
in the treatment room with him?"

Dix broke down again, almost falling off her stool with mirth.
"Oh! *gasp* His ankle was broken in four places.. He needed
pins and that fixator to keep the bones straight for healing.
Just picture what his reaction will be when he finds out that 
he has to stay here for twelve days.."

Roy and John looked at her uncomprehendingly.

"Brackett figures that that room is the most shielded place
in the whole house. Those two monkeys in there are going
to sit on him when he flies to pieces over the news. Don't
want to undo all that nice surgery, now do we?"

Dix laughed hysterically, streaming tears, all the way down
the hallway to her next destination.

John and Roy exchanged confused expressions. John emitted
a small courtesy laugh. "Heh." His forehead furrowed.

Roy piped up, a grin growing, "You mean his temperment
has gotten that far out of hand with his under rank staff? 
Dix was practically crying with glee over his predicament.
I mean, I knew Dr. Morton was a little short in the bed side
manner department.. but,.. how do you explain that?" 
He pointed to the door behind which slumbered the object
of their discussion.

John shrugged, "I'd hate to see him when he was awake,
that's for d*mned sure."

Roy looked at him strangely.

"You know.. With him dismantling that ankle thing and all."
John elaborated. 

Roy reflected, then they both spoke what just popped in
their minds aloud.

"We'll send him a card."
"We'll send him a card."

-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-

Dr. Joe Early had joined the two paramedics in the cafeteria.
"You mean to tell me that you all bought this filly, sight
unseen, based only on pure conjecture?"

John sputtered, expecting a tirade after his answer,
"Well, I.."

Roy grinned evilly, "Johnnie did. I didn't." And he forked a 
bite of his salad, chewing enthusiastically, letting his
partner sink or swim.

Early....smiled.
"Good for you! Want some more coffee?"

John blinked. He stopped cringing. "Ah..yeah.. Sure...
thanks..." He leaned forward, watching the doctor
pour some into his mug. "You mean buying a share
of this horse was a ...was.. a  smart idea?"

"Of course," Doctor Early breathed grandly, "We all
should have an opportunity to hang ourselves financially
at least once in our lives. It helps to build character."
And he bit into the hamburger.

Roy snorted, choking on his milk, partly in a laugh.

John shot him a withering look.

"Sorry." Roy offered, but he couldn't quite fight back
a smile.

John stared and Roy dropped the grin only until John
looked back at his food and changed the subject, 
"Thanks, partner..for your vote of confidence...."
he said under his breath.  "Say ah, doc.. heh. How's
that gang member we brought in?"

Dr. Early wiped his mouth with a napkin, "Much better
from what I hear. The neurothoracic surgeons are optimistic
on a completely normal recovery. They found no spinal
damage anywhere.

"Good, that's good.. but I wonder if that cop still gets it."
he mumbled.

"What?" Joe asked. 

"Oh Nothing.. just a pighead we ran into at that rescue.. heh."
Johnnie sighed.

"Well, it's been real, doc. We have to go available.
Johnnie?" Roy said.

They both rose, grabbing their walkie talkies. 

"See ya fellas! And stay away from any more Chet Kelly scams.
He's a sure drain on your wallet.." Joe called after them.

Johnny mouthed sarcasm silently parroting Joe's parting words.

Roy designated their status as available on his radio.

Dispatch replied, ##10 -4, 51.##

They started down the hall. They heard a disturbance in a room
to his left so he investigated. "Hey.. someone's fallen or something
in there."

Roy tried to stop him in vain, "Johnnie.. No... That's where Mort--"

But it was too late and the door was already open.
Johnnie did an abrupt about face when he saw who it was but he 
wasn't fast enough. 

"Hey, Johnnie Gage.. Come here....." a sleepy voice rasped.
A clammy hand gripped his wrist and Gage's foot hit the
bedpan that had most likely been the noise he had heard when it
had fallen earlier. John steeled himself mentally. 

Then he turned and faced the music. His instinct for self 
preservation lost out. ::All right. I'll go out joking..::
"Ah, Morton my man, what happened to your ankle? Slip
on a banana peel?"

Roy kicked his partner sharply on the shin without wiping the idiot's
grin he had on his face. Johnnie's smile tightened but he did not give
in to the pain he felt. He looked confused.
 
Morton only chortled, "Hghf!"

Roy stooped to picked up the empty bedpan at his feet to set it back
on the foot of Morton's bed.

Morton blinked, "I took a free tour of my front steps via the Los
Angeles Times. Thanks, Roy.."

John shifted off his throbbing leg to the other foot. "I thought the
paramedics run sheet said you slipped on a  Banan--"

Roy erupted into a huge fit of coughing jags. "Sorry, post nasal
drip again. Damn fires. Always screws up your sinuses..." *Sniff*

It dawned on Gage, finally.... He mentally retraced steps. He spoke
cautiously realizing the risk of Dixie's feared Morton reaction was
a hairsbreadth of being triggered.
"Ah.. it seems like everyone is falling and getting hurt today."

Roy felt an odd shiver of premonition at his partner's comment
and he didn't know why.

Morton roused again, "What'ya boys, in for?"

John spoke while Roy fought chills.
"Oh, there was a riot between two rival gangs at the stadium this 
morning. One gal pushed another guy over the side up on
the second tier. He must've fallen sixty feet!"

"Thirty.." Roy added, sotto voce'.

"Ah,, thirty feet.. but ah,..they say he's doing all right. ..That he'll
be ok.."

"Hmphhf." came Morton's reply.

Roy and John began to wonder when the powder keg would go off.
Then..

"oh oh..." Morton trickled.

The door swathed bright light and the nursing supervisor flicked on
the overhead light, heedless of making the three men squint
painfully. She pushed in her TPR cart. "Good afternoon, Mr. Morton.
Time for your temperature and vitals again..." she purred.

Morton covered his head with his covers. "Spare me,, Pleassseee..."

John and Roy were shocked. Gage pointed at Morton, doubting the
fear he heard there at first. Roy just shrugged, but then he joined
John pointing in pantomime to Morton and then looping a finger around
his ear in the "crazy" gesture.

The nurse understood. "Oh, that's right. You two haven't heard the
rest of Dix's counterplan yet for Mike here. " She smiled sweetly,
"Double sedative.. Enjoy it while it lasts."

John's face lit up.

"Come on, doc.." she added a bit louder over his whimpers. "You want
to get well don'tcha? Now let Guinine take your tempy. Come onnn."

John emboldened, piped chimed in.. "Yeah Mike. Why don't you be
a good boy and let the nice nurse take your temperature. She might
decide to go the other route if you don't cooperate.."

The blankets whipped off. "Gage! I'm warning you! One more cr--"
His threat was cut off by the glass rod shoved into his mouth.

"Thanks fellas." Nurse Guinine peeped. "You know the old saying,,
Doctors make the worst patients."

"Glad to have obliged." John grinned, waving fingers at the
muffled, miffed Morton. 

Morton mumbled something unintelligable, shaking a sleepy fist.

"Bye, patient!" Roy teased.

The door closed on the sight and Roy and Johnnie laughed uncontrollably.
They were squad bound when they could both think enough to speak
without setting each other off again.

"Did you see his face?" John guffawed, "I tell you, Morton couldn't have
looked any more trapped in a million years.!"

Roy wiped streaming eyes and spoke around his sore stomach. "Ugh.. 
I haven't been that uptight about anyone's personality fallout in a lonnngg
while. And when Morton didn't do anything about your banana jabs...
Oh!, that was too much..."

Johnnie coughed, "You know he was like that because of the medication
Brackett and Dixie pumped him full of.. Those orderlies probably went
offshift for the day so they extended his sedation period out a little
longer than normal.. Oh,, what a move!  I thought I was busted."

"Yeah.. It reminds me of the time when.." Roy said..

##BEEP! BEEP! BEEP! BEEP!..
Squad 51 with Engine 51. Man down. A half mile north of Rock Creek Canyon
Rd. A half mile north of Rock Creek Canyon Rd. Time out. 15:48##

 A wisp of the dread Roy felt earlier in Morton's room returned and seeped 
into the cab. It formed an idea in Roy's head. "Hey, isn't that Majorie Kelly's
place?" he asked.

John put on his helmet. "I think so. " He thumbed the mike, "Squad 51,
responding.."

##10-4, Squad 51.##

The engine's reply crackled over the P.A. "Squad 51, this is engine 51.
Did I hear that right? That's Chet's family address. He's supposed to
be there today, isn't he?"

John picked up the mike while Roy drove a little faster. "Yes, Cap.
He is." he replied after a bit.

"Right. We'll be there in fifteen."

"Us, five minutes before that, Cap.."
Roy flipped on their sirens and they both secured their chin helmet straps.

John  said. "Chet old pal. What didja do this time?"

Roy glanced over at him, startled. He gripped the wheel more tightly.


---------------------------------------------------------------
 
TITLE MUSIC

---------------------------------------------------------------
The squad pulled up at the fork of two unnamed roads and the spicy canyon
dust cleared before the two LA County paramedics.
"D*mn!" John swore.. "Which way?!"

"I'll try dispatch.." Ry fingered the radio derisively. "LA, this is squad 51. Do
you copy?"

##Go ahead, 51.##

"Could you 10-9 the address of our current response destination?"

##A half mile north of Rock Creek Canyon Rd.##

John shook his head in frustration, hanging his head out of his window trying
to find a road sign or anything at all.

Roy spoke again, "LA, could you clarify? We're on the only road into the
canyon at a Y junction. I don't see road signs of any kind.. Over.."

The dispatcher toggled some keys at his terminal and pulled up an
aerial photograph of the canyon. ##51, which canyon rim are you
located upon?##

John leaned out the window again, noting the angle of the sun.
"West side."

"The west side rim, LA, over.." Roy told dispatch.

##Proceed down the right hand fork for 1/8 of a mile, 51. Aerial
shows five buildings in that direction.##

John called out nervously, "Let's go.!!"

Roy spun gravel. They went. "10-4, LA. We copy. Moving down
right hand fork.."

##51, Will advise Engine 51 of your 10-20.##

"Squad 51 , out." Roy finished. Hanging up the radio phone.

The narrow road opened out into a wide tree filled mesa. A barn
in great disrepair stood in a meadow at the right. There was no sign
of an off road.
"Here?" Roy wondered.

John looked about. A glint caught his eye, unusual for a remote
Californian canyon. New car painted metal. "There! on the left.
about 400 yards down. It could be a parked car."

There was an automobile, half concealed in the tall grass, a creme
colored station wagon.. Chet's. A little ways beyond, a paved driveway
wound itself into a hillside. Roy sped up. It was a good two minutes before
they saw the house.

John whistled through his teeth, "This is some spread!"

"Yeah." Roy breathed. He pulled up. There was a sign over the road.
It said :   KELLY-K  RANCH
              ~~~~~~~~~~
"This has got to be it." John was sure now and his fear returned as
they got out of the squad and assembled their gear. 

They ran to the front side of the house. "Where is everybody?" John 
said. 

"Don't know.." Roy said.

"You think that with a ranch this big, they would have sent people out
to fetch us.."

They went swiftly to the main entrance. 
They both knocked loudly "LA County Fire Department!"

A heavy oaken door swung open. 

A woman who could only be Chet's sister spoke up. "Oh thank god!"
she sobbed. "I thought you'd never get here."

"Marjorie Kelly?" Roy began.

"Yes. Please, this way.. It's my brother. .."

A sick emotion hit both Roy and Johnnie as their unspoken dread
was realized and given a name.

Majorie said. "We warned him! But he just wouldn't listen!"

"Easy Ms. Kelly. Just tell us what happened.." John said.

"A new filly came today, Chet,... he figured he could handle her.
She tossed him!"  She wrung her hands, overwrought.

"Where is he?" Roy asked.

"In back!!" Margorie indicated the sixth path to the right. She ran
down the flowered, richly trellised way. "Hurry!!"

The three wound down the yard to a wooded area. They rounded 
another tight curve between some hedges.. to  
a riding corral next to a huge red barn. Near a perimeter fence, 
a demolished bird coop was strewn about.
Marj called out, "They're here, Max!"

And older man peered over some of the broken boards but he
did not stand up. Roy and John headed in that direction. 
"Agh. guys.. I can't stop all this bleeding.."


Chet was on his back sprawled six feet away from the outer fences
inside the horse corral. His head lay awkwardly on top of  a jumble
of splintered boards. His eyes were closed and he was almost 
completely covered in tangled shed.

John and Roy vaulted the outer fence and handed over
their equipment to the roof of the demolished coop, looking for
a way to Chet. There was too much wood blocking
the way.

The gear couldn't follow them in there.
So Gage and DeSoto left all of it, just outside the ring of debris.

"Chet?! Can you hear me?" John flung away some tangled chicken
wire, fighting to get gear and himself near Kelly.
Chet moved a little, not opening his eyes.  Gage clambered over 
the last of the debris. DeSoto beat him there.

Roy put on a smile he did not feel. "Hey, Chet.. How are you doing?"
He put a grip on Chet's coratid artery, studying his face.

Chet stirred and coughed. "Eh, Roy? What took you so long?
Where've you been?"

"Oh,.. joy riding.." John said, clearing more debris away so he
could get closer to where Chet was lying. There was a lot
of blood on the ground. It seemed to be coming from
below Chet's waist. "...and you?"

"I..I decided to take a snooze under the trees, can't you tell?
Oww..!" Kelly grabbed his leg.. "Something's  somethin...cracked..!"
I think I'm dying here."

John restrained him, nodding curtly to Max to keep up the pressure
on the effected leg. "Easy now! Just take it easy.. We'll figure this out
and find a way to get you out of here."  He knew how close Chet's 
quip really was, deadly shock was closing the gap, fast. He knew
that it would take more man power to bring Chet into the open
where he could be treated. 
"Just lie still."

"I know.. I know that just as well as you do.." Chet gasped.

John peered under the makeshift dressing Max had made of his
own shirt and was pressing against Chet's thigh, he quickly set 
it back.

"Roy, I think the femoral artery's been nicked."

Roy nodded grimly, taking a stethoscope out of the drug box 
and slowing picking his way through the debris again to use
it on Chet. "Chet..Where else do you hurt besides your leg?"

Chet sagged limp. "Chet!"  Roy dug a few knuckles into
the bone in the middle of Kelly's chest and rubbed hard.
Kelly jerked, driven awake again by the pain stimuli.
"Huh?" 

Roy repeated his question.

"N-No, where else really.. I.. I'm just a little..dizzy.. Listen,
we've got to get out of here.. Cielo's a killer, something just
made her snap right before I was thrown.. If she sees us, 
she'll trample you like she did me and this coop."

A shrill scream of anger pierced the air. It came from the far
end of the pasture.. Staccato hooves paced nervously.

"There..." Chet gasped, "See that dust cloud over there?
She's scented us.."

Marjorie glanced up in alarm from the outer fence, "Oh, no.
Not again... Shall I get the rifle, Max?"

John thought hard.. "Just hold on here, everybody, Calm down.
No one is going to shoot any horses. First things first. Cap'll be
here in a few minutes . We'll let them handle her., O.K.?"

Chet began to pant with air hunger in a reflex he could not control.
A symptom of severe blood loss.
"But...you don't understand.. She'll charge!" Chet sat up, and 
hung onto Roy's shoulder, trying to stay upright.. "NO! It's dang--"
He gagged in agony and nearly passed out. Roy caught his head as
Chet fell back again locking all of his muscles around the pure agony 
erupting from his leg. "Ahhgg!"

From twenty feet away, Marjorie quailed, "Oh, Chet!
Don't do that to yourself.."

"Hey! Hey! Chet..." John grabbed Kelly's face in a glove. "You're bleeding 
badly from your leg and all of this moving around isn't helping matters
any! Now keep your cool.." John ordered.  He pushed Max's trembling hands
off of the gaping wound and pressed his own down firmly at a pressure
point farther up. He didn't like the amount of blood he saw around him.

Chet gasped. He slung an arm over his shaking face.."All right..all right."

Roy took some vitals. "BP's 80 Systolic. Pulse 140."  He looked at
Max and Marj. "Listen.. Someone's got to show the engine crew
where we are. And we'll need some blankets from the house."

John nodded, agreeing with the distracting tactic. The less
Chet saw of his family's panic, the better off he'd be.

"...can you do that for me?" Roy asked..

They both nodded and Max crawled out of the debris
pile, under the outer fence and together, they ran into the 
house and inside the rustic building.

Roy watched them enter the house.


Suddenly, Cielo Madre exploded from over the hill, right
at the gap John had created for Roy and him to get
to where Chet was lying on the shattered coop.
Top speed.

"Ahhh!" John covered Chet with his body while Roy
picked up a timber and brandished it over his head,
yelling..

The infuriated filly drew up short twenty yards away.
Her ears flattened against her skull. But she kept away.
She was shaking her head and her skin was trembling
in an odd way. John rose slowly back into his
crouch and repositioned his hands over his pressure
point on Chet's leg.  He noticed the
horse's strange behavior.."Hey, Chet.. Did you
two run into any bee hives during your workout?
That horse's coat is just crawling with hives and 
bee stings."

"I thought I heard something.." he winced as John
bore down on his leg again, stopping the 
the feeling there along with the blood flow out of
his wound.  "nngg..." he closed his eyes.
 
Roy's voice came close to his ear. "Chet?"
he began quietly, not upsetting the horse in 
any way. "You hurt only in your leg, right? Not
your neck or your back?"

"Yeah... "  Chet moaned, "I'm sure everything bad
is just there.."

"Ok,.. because we're going to have to move out of 
here before she gets any more bright bee sting 
crazed ideas.. and that means moving before
the engine gets here."

Chet looked up and saw the horse glaring at him
with a growing anger in her eyes. "Oh, wonderful.."
His face was very pale and sweaty. 

Roy indicated the outer fence. "If she breaks again,
you're going to have to roll underneath that fence
on your own. We'll try to ward her off you."

"Good luck." he croaked. He swallowed with a dry mouth.
"uh,.. " his breathing shortened,.."..I..I think I'm going to
be sick."

Roy and John eased Chet onto his side and held him. Chet
vomited. John spoke, "Easy,, it'll pass. You're getting shocky
and this sometimes happens."

Chet relaxed at the end of it, gasping.."Terrific..Hope it's
over. "

"It is.."  John felt Kelly's BP slip lower in the pulse hold he had
on one of Kelly's brachial arteries, monitoring. 
It disappeared all together. ::Damn! His systolic's dropped 
to seventy..::
"Come on, Cap,.. get the lead out.." he whispered, 
lifting eyes to the empty yard. 

Roy pointed towards the biphone near the edge of
the coop pile. "I'll get Rampart." He crawled slowly over 
the wooden boards and under chicken wire to set up the 
aerial antennae and turned on the power.

John nodded, "You're going to have to risk it. Chet needs
an IV, now.."

Never for a moment did Roy's eyes leave the filly's. She
snorted and pawed dust up while she shivered off 
the venom from her many stings. He held the phone up
to his face, shielding the receiver in his hands.

John began to gather up the half conscious Chet up by 
the shoulders, getting ready to pull him clear. He 
swallowed hard, watching the filly watch them.

Roy's lips moved. He spoke quietly to hail Rampart.
"...rampart. this is squad 51. ...do you read...."

The returning reply boomed, "Go ahead, 51..."
It was Dixie's voice..

John and Roy froze as the horse whipped in a full circle
and shifted a defiant head in their direction. She snuffled
loudly, catching the scent of the men. She trumpetted low
in her chest.

Suddenly, she bolted low and fast, at them.

"LOOK out!!" John cried.

Roy abandoned the biphone and together, he and John
heaved Chet Kelly gracelessly through the coop's tangles,
ripping their own clothes in their haste to get away 
with him safely. Together.. they rolled Chet under the
outer fence. Chet yelled aloud in pain when he landed, but
he was safely on the other side.

Roy glanced back over his shoulder in fear.
"Let's get out of here!" he shouted at Gage.

They vaulted the fence just as punishing hooves raked 
the air inches away from where they had been.

-----------------------------------------------
At Rampart, Dixie frantically tried to raise the squad.
Early looked up. "What happened?" as he entered
with Dr. Brackett.

"I don't know. I was answering 51's rescue call when
I suddenly lost contact.. I heard John yell. Then..
nothing.."

Joe thumbed the board. "51, This is Rampart. Do you
read? Over.."

More thuds, then a crash. The line buzzed static.

"Nothing." he said. 

Dixie tried once more, "51, do you copy? What's your
status?"

More static. No reassuring voices.

Brackett straightened irritably, "Dix, notify the fire 
department dispatch about this. I want to know
what the hell is going on over there!"

--

Having silenced the red box, Cielo Madre then
vented her fury on the other strange boxes left
abandoned by her feet. Then she took off running
around the far side of the barn.


---------------------------------------

The force of their momentum had flung Roy and John
hard to the ground. Roy shook his head, clearing away
stars. He recovered and saw Chet face down, motionless,
a short distance away.  "Chet!!"

John stirred too, climbing to his feet. "Roy?"

"Chet! Can you hear me?" Roy shouted again. He didn't 
move. Together Gage and DeSoto ran over to Kelly just as
the engine crew flew across the yard with the O2 apparatus.

"Chet?" John called urgently. Roy and Johnnie rolled him 
over as a unit. A fresh blood stain discolored the grass 
underneath him and was spreading out slowly. His face 
was grayish looking. Roy covered the gash with his bare 
hands, bearing down on it.

John listened by Chet's mouth for breathing. Cap ran up 
and knelt by Chet's head, "We heard you ran into trouble 
through dispatch. Rampart got worried.. How is he?"

John frowned, straightening, "He's in deep shock, we had 
to get away from the horse as quick as we could and it's 
torn the femoral artery completely. Marco.. help him on 
the O2, will you? He's breathing too shallowly right now 
to do much good."

"Right.."

Marjorie and Max had returned only moments before with
blankets. Chet's sister stood, transfixed, tears welling up 
into her eyes."What's wrong with him.?" she demanded. 
"Why isn't he awake?"
Her brother's ashen color terrified her. "Tell me!"

Mike Stoker got up from the ground and led her away, 
trying to calm her down.

Roy spoke in a dry voice, "Cap, we've lost all of our 
equipment. Is the ambulance on the way?"

Marco nodded, giving Chet mask assisted ventilations 
in time with Kelly's own weaker attempts at breathing 
using the demand valve thumb button. "Last check, it's 
ETA was six minutes." he answered Roy.

Cap wiped his mouth. "Anything we can do?" he asked John. 

"Yeah, go get a stokes and the engine cab's first aid kit. 
And the mast suit.. And the defibrillator..!"

Moreno went with him.

"Johnnie.. This isn't working.." Roy said, looking at his 
bloodied hands and a fresh welling making its way up 
around them. "How's his BP?"

"60 systolic.. I can barely get a carotid.  Marco, start 
hyperventilating him. Last thing we need is him crashing 
on us. Go to 30 a minute and see how he does." Gage 
suggested.

Marco nodded, stepping up his delivery rate of pure 
oxygen into Chet's lungs.
 
Cap and Moreno soon returned, laden with the mast suit 
case and the defib box.

Roy saw his equipment lying around in the sun just out of 
reach. He identified a few things that were still intact. 
"Maybe I can go back into the corral and get a hemostat 
or something to clamp off this artery. " he said urgently. 
His fright was growing.

John nodded.. "Marco.." He gestured. Marco relieved Roy 
at his pressure point while Mike took over the O2 vents 
without missing a beat.

Roy arose. Max joined him back by the corral, as Roy 
slipped on some gloves over his soiled hands, listening 
for signs of Cielo Madre's return.

Max tossed his burden of blankets on the ground, "You're 
not going back in there."

Roy shrugged, "Somebody has to. Chet can't wait for 
treatment much longer." He watched as Johnnie, Moreno, 
and Cap moved Chet onto the mast suit trousers and 
fastened it up everywhere but where the artery wound 
was. "They can't pump up that mast suit to buy him some 
time until I clamp off that bleeder first. If I can't get that 
clamp, nothing we do will do any good."

He ran back to the squad and got out the cab's fire 
extinguisher. He lugged it back with him.
"Listen, Max.. Have you ever worked one of these 
before?"

"Sort of, once at work, for  a safety test."

"Here's your chance to shine. This is simple. You pull out 
this ring here and just squeeze the nozzle, see?"

A puff of CO2 streamed out.

"I got it.." 

"O.K, let's go.." Roy glanced over and didn't like what he 
was seeing by Kelly. Cap was seated and waiting with 
his jacket and gloves off over Kelly's chest which was 
now bare.  ::Cap's getting ready to work if Chet codes.. 
Come on Chet.. Hang in there.::  Roy amended his snatch 
list to include an endo trach tube along with the hemostat, 
and dressings.

"Let's hurry.." he told the trainer.



Moreno had linked LA dispatch through a landline talkie 
into the ranch phone which Marjorie had threaded 
through the yard.  Cap relayed vitals to Rampart at 
John's direction.  Desperately ordered by Brackett, John 
finally got his authorization for the use of rotating 
tourniquets in an attempt to keep oxygen flowing to 
Chet's brain despite his critically low blood volume 
level.  The EKG they had on the monitor was wrought 
with shuddering PVC's brought on by the blood loss.

It wasn't resolving into normal sinus rhythm, despite 
the tourniquets and the hyperventilations.
 
John was worried, Chet wasn't even trying to breathe 
anymore, and John could do nothing else to help him.
It was now entirely up to his partner to get 
that hemostat clip from the corral.
"Roy... get that clip.. He's starting to cave.."

Cielo met Max and Roy at the perimeter of the fence 
with reddened eyes. She snorted, facing them. "You 
circle left, I'll go right. If she charges you, use the
extinguisher. The vapor and the noise should spook 
her long enough for me to get that trauma box."

Max nodded, licking his lips. They climbed the outer 
fence, sitting on its edge for a moment. Then they 
started creeping forward towards the coop and the 
scattered medical equipment. 

"Easy, girl.." Roy soothed. She charged. Max 
discharged a plume of vapor directly at her head. 
She reared.

Roy bolted for the equipment. He snatched up 
everything he came for. On a second thought, he 
ran over to the IV kit and started scooping up IV bags 
and tubing boxes.

"Come on!!" Max shouted, "She won't hold for long."

Roy grabbed the trauma box up again and retreated, 
shedding packets and meds along the way. He got 
outside the corral in seconds.

Max gave a roar and threw the extinquisher bottle 
itself at the beast. He rolled under the outer fence 
in the nick of time. Both were safe.

Max helped Roy carry his armfuls back to the others.

"Fancyfoot work, guys.." John grinned.  The firemen 
gathered around in a concerned group as Roy knelt, 
biting off the paper wrapping of the hemostat. He 
probed the wound for the bleeder. He found it and 
clamped the torn ends. The horrendous outflow
of blood there ceased. 

Quickly, John and Roy pumped up the mast suit to its 
max levels. They got three IV's of D5W running full 
volume through Kelly's carotid arteries, the only ones
not collapsed by Chet's basement level BP.

Roy held aloft his prize find he had gotten from the
battered corral, a syringe of epinephrine, at just the
right concentration, 1 to 10,000 dilution for a man
Chet's size. He squirted its front load into the sky
to dispel any air then added it IV push as fast as 
he dared.

John looked at Mike by Chet's head. "Is he 
breathing now?"

Everyone waited without moving for his answer.

Stoker nodded, feeling resistance beginning
against his demand valve triggering, "Yes.. 
and he's pinking up." 

Gage grunted, taking a BP. He smiled, "It's up, 90 over 
60.." Marjorie and Max hugged each other. 

The EKG settled into a normal beat moments later.


Cap was estatic. "Way to take it out of the woods, 
Kelly!!" he shouted, ruffling his unconscious crewman's
hair affectionately. His relief was infectious.
And everyone smiled for all they were worth.

"Come on you guys....Move!" Cap roared as he saw 
the ambulance  attendants enter the yard.. 
"On the double..!!"

---------------------------------------------------------
"And the rest was easy..." John Gage said. "Once we were 
in the ambulance, Roy radioed ahead to dispatch to maintain 
contact with you guys via the C.B. radio in the driver 
compartment..."

He leaned back in his chair and stretched, a cheshire's grin 
on his face.
 Dixie nodded appreciatively, "And after another injection
of stimulant, Chet did nothing else but improve.." she 
smiled. "You boys amaze me with the exciting rescues you 
find yourselves in so often. They make events around here
seem like a walk in the park!"

"Now I wouldn't say that.." Roy countered, "What about that
gang fight earlier today? All those cases came here, right?
You must've had fun keeping them from killing each other."

Dixie laughed.

Dr. Early had been listening in while he ate his apple.
"Say, How's Chet Kelly doing now? I heard from Kel
that he lost almost 4/5th's of his blood volume in the 
field and didn't arrest. Now that's what I call one
lucky b--"


Dix shushed him,.. "Doctor.. There are young ears here.
Frankly,..mine. "

John sighed chuckling at the good natured banter around 
him, "We just heard. He's in recovery. The surgeons
found no internal hemorrhaging apart from that right
femoral artery. He will be up and around on crutches
in about a week."

"Well, give my regards to him for me will you?" Early
said, walking away.. "I've got rounds."

"Sure thing, doc.." Roy replied. He tapped John on
the arm, "Maybe we should phone the guys and let 
them in on the good news."

"Ooo, yeah..., Well, gotta go, Dix."

"See ya fellas.."

------------------------------------------------------------
A few days later over lunch, the gang carried on lively conversation.

The B Shift was just getting off and the two crews shared their
week's highlights. John gestured grandly, concluding his story.
"And there we were, one crazed horse and a lot of smashed
equipment.."

Gil chuckled. "You got us beat, Gage. The most I've ever totalled
was my helmet, last year, in the McGuire warehouse blaze." He
sipped his coffee adding, 

"How much did it cost to replace all of the squad's gear?" Bryce 
interrupted.

"Plenty!!" It was Cap. "Chief McConnikee still won't look me in the eyes
when I told him why I needed a complete refit inventory. I've been
trying to live up to his expectations.. Really I've tried. But this
oddball rescue has undone years of careful kissing up, ever since
I was caught setting h-"  he broke off, embarrassed about something.

John grinned wryly. "Cap you have to remember that he may NEVER
forget that you set his hat on f--"

"Don't say it Gage! Now's that's an order!!"

John and Gil snapped dutifully into attention. "Yes sir..!"

Cap glared at them a second or two before he went through the 
double doors leading out of the kitchen. Gil let out  long string of
giggles he had barely managed to contain in front of John's Cap'n
Stanley. "On fire?! You mean Cap torched that ol geezer's hat?
Boy, he must have had a death wish or something."

John shooshed, trying to silence Gil to no avail. "Shh, He still might
hear you.."

Gil was dying against the wall. John eyed him critically. "I gotta live
with him, you know.."  The glower faded into a smirk, "Yeah.. he pulled
that when he was still a wet behind the ears cadet looking for a 
promotion a month early. McConnikee has a memory like an elephant!"

Gil was still tearing up, "W - What's he like?"

"Who?"

"M- McConnikee?" 


"Oh, oh. oh. The old goat still dishes out holy h*ll come inspection day.
And WE suffer the brunt of it. You should see Cap before one of these
things. He's a basket case."

Gil laughed harder and started to leave. "Serves him right, Johnnie. See
ya next week.." He left for the locker room.

"Take care, man.." John said grabbing a plate and piling on breakfast high.
"Mornin.." he drawled.

"Did you hear?" Mike spoke excitedly, "Chet leaves the hospital tommorrow."

"All right!" Marco cheered.

"About time.." John nudged Roy's elbow. "I'll just bet he's sick of all those
bedbaths, eh?" He sniggered evilly.

Roy waxed stone faced.

John's face fell, "Sorry I keep forgetting that you are a married man and
can no longer appreciate the fin-"  He trailed off, uncomfortably caught
in Roy's baleful stare. He swallowed, "Forget I even said it." he sniffed.
"Forget I ever even mention bed b-- Marco..!  You look like a man who
could use some more potatoes. Here, have some more. They're great!
I try to eat some every w--" Marco was staring at his plate. John
quit spooning out the spuds. A pile of them five inches high overflowed
the edge of the plate, running onto Marco's fingers.

"OOps! Sorry, Marco, I---Here.., have a towel." John retreated from
the table.

Roy chuckled, following, a bowl of oatmeal in hand. "Johnnie, you've 
got to ease up on all of that caffeine. You're gonna kill someone 
one of these days." 

"Oh, Ha. ha." John dripped sarcasm, "Very funny.."
he defended himself neatly, "So,..." he smacked his hands together.
"When's the big day? For your trip, Roy?"

Roy acted as if he had smelled something vile. He spoke out of the side
of his mouth, "Day after tommorrow.." he whispered.

"You're leaving when?" John said a little too loudly.

Roy leaped up from his chair, "Oh, come on Johnnie.. Shhhh! You know
I don't want word of this spread around."

John basked in his success. "Ok. ok. Mum's the word." He looked around,
bored. "I wonder what's on TV.."

He flicked on the tube.

##BEEP! BEEP! BEEP! Station 51. Shed fire. 6560 Montezuma Road..."

Roy paled suddenly. "My god! That's my--"

He took off running. The implication of what he had said struck John
with a sick weight. "Cap?  Cap! That's Roy's place!"

"Wha?! Desoto's ?!! John, you drive!"

They left at a dead run.

-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-

The squad, squealing, slowed. Roy was out the door and into the
yard before Johnnie could even bring the truck to a complete stop.
Roy didn't pause to put on his overcoat.

"Joanne?" he fidgeted in a panic in the driveway. Then he took a hold
of himself a little, looking around. "T-The car's gone. Maybe Joanne
and the kids went shopping.."  He ran back to the truck. The engine 
screeched, pulling up. The sirens faded. Cap stepped out of the cab.
He smiled when he saw that the fire, was indeed, only involving a 
small backyard shed.
He tried to alleviate some of Roy's stress, "When I meant you could 
invite us all to a BBQ, I didn't have this in mind, DeSoto.."
and he grinned...

Roy didn't grin back.

Cap got serious, "Roy? What's in there?"

On the lot, was a gray two story structure. Its roof was under
repair, only tar paper covered it with stacks of roofing tiles
piled at one end. A half built porch surround the front door
of the little house. A small garden shed ten feet from the house
was totally engulfed in flames which threatened a nearby telephone
pole.

"Roy!" 

"What? Oh,, uh... I have about five pounds of termite repellent in
there. And two five gallon jugs of gasoline.." his face furrowed,
"And my BOAT!"

"Easy there, Roy, ah.. we'll try." Cap offered. 

John had his coat on and he was trying to give Roy his.

"Johnnie..., I gotta know....What if... one of the kids?!" Roy
looked stunned.

John made sure he had eye contact with his partner, "Go ask the
neighbors. And Vince. He's over there." He called, "Vince!!"
The big cop turned.

John urged, "Go ask him, Roy.."

Roy moved leadenly.

John noticed that he was still holding Roy's overcoat in his hands.
"Ah,, R--?" He gave up, letting it fall to the ground.

He sprinted over to Mike and Marco, setting up the hydrant. 

----

Roy was in despair. Vince had said he hadn't seen his kids. Roy
cast about into the crowd.

----

A hose was dragged across the yard. Marco and Moreno twisted
on its nozzle head.

"You men!" Cap directed, "Use a medium spray.. Protect the house!"

"Right, Cap!"

"LA , this is Engine 51. We have a burning free standing garden 
shed. It contains insectides and two cans of unexploded gasoline.
Please notify the gas company to cut their service to the entire
block. This fire might upgrade."

##10-4, 51. Will stand by.##

Cap surveyed the scene and noticed DeSoto shifting among the
onlookers. ::Oh, well.:: he thought to himself.::He's gotta reassure 
himself that his family was nowhere near that shed when it went
up. I'll let him.::

"Mike! Set up the second hose for the shed. I'll have Roy help you
in a moment!"

----

On the outside of the firefighting trucks, Roy was only half scared.
Inside, his reasoning warred, making him jumpy. Then he saw 
someone he knew. "Carrie!"

A slight, young girl clutching a teddy bear turned toward the 
sound of her own name. She gave a cry and started to run 
when she saw who it was who wanted her.

"Carrie! I have to talk to you.." Roy shouted. He easily overtook
her. He kept a hand on her shoulder. "Carrie, you and my daughter
are friends, right?"

She nodded. And started trembling.

"Are you scared?"

Carrie's face pinched and she began to cry without a sound.

Roy knelt down. "You don't have to be frightened.. I -I just want
to know ab--" Roy paused, not wanting to frighten the tiny girl
unnecessarily, "You and Jessica and Michael had a sleepover
at my house last night.. Right?"

She squeaked, still petrified, in a soft voice, "Yes.."

"Do you know where Mrs. DeSoto and Michael and Jesse are now?"

Carrie suddenly cried harder.

Roy became alarmed, "Carrie? What's wrong?"

"I" she looked at the ground. "I was playing in the shed..I- I found
the matches in the street and  and they started the fire.." 
She rushed into Roy's arms, bawling, "I didn't mean it!" She cried in 
catching, wet sobs, "Mr. DeSoto, I knew... I knew it was wrong.
Jesse and me,  w--"

"Jesse?! Where is she?"

"She.." Carrie screwed up tight. 

Roy held Carrie away from him gripping her arms firmly.
"Did they go shopping?"

Carrie became quiet. Four fingers found her mouth. 

He repeated his question. She studied the ground,
then she nodded, "Yes, Mr. DeSoto." 

"Thank you, Carrie.....Cap!! She says they're not home!" 
He turned to her and knelt again.  "Carrie, Would you tell
that policeman over there that I sent you to him? That he's 
supposed to watch you until the fire's out?"

Another nod. She ran off.

Roy sighed, returning to his company's engine. ::What a day::,
he thought, straightening his helmet.. ::My boat, torched!::


Mike handed Roy's overcoat to him, "Rough,eh?" he asked.

Roy nodded. He placed his jacket between his knees to hold
it while he adjusted chemical guages. Cap called from
across the yard. "Well, so much for that vacation, eh, Roy?"
He grinned broadly..


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


 
Every head ducked. One of the gas cans finally had enough.
The shed sprouted a fire ball which sent a viscous black 
plume, high into the air.

John and Cap regained their feet and redirected their water
stream onto the shed.




Roy winced. "Oh, well, I've always said I wanted to rip down 
that old shack anyway.." 

Mike chuckled.


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


The shed went again and this time, the telephone pole toppled..
onto the house! It sprayed sparks. Embers fell and caught
on the exposed tar paper on the roof. Stray bits caught on
the naked timbers of the porch's virgin framework. 

The house was threatened. 

"Oh no.." Roy whirled back to the dials, connecting hose 
couplings to their ports rapidly.

"Stoker! DeSoto! On the double!!" Cap hollered.

Then a strange thing happened. No one saw it. A burning bundle 
of roofing tiles cascaded off the top story. It fell and hit the 
ground, splattering sparks. Several of these sparks wafted
into a open basement window.

A colossal explosion ripped through the house's bottom story.
It spewed columns of twisting fire from all of its foundation 
windows.

Every one was stunned. What had happened was a  freak
occurance. The furnace had blown.

"LA, We have a fully involved two story structure fire. Roll
an additional unit to the scene. Advise the Power company
to terminate power to both 65th Avenue and Montezuma
Road!"

##10-4, 51.##

LA's backup call echoed in between the houses all the way
down the block. A four tone sounded over the PA system.

Station 38 got called out.

"Mike, Roy!! Cover that shed!!"

Roy was whipping on his over coat when a Chrysler station
wagon thunked over a curb across the street.
It was Roy's wife. The overcoat dropped.

Joanne DeSoto rushed out of the car. "Oh my god, Roy!"
she ran to him. Roy's son, Michael, followed.

Roy tried to reassure his family, "It's all right honey. You've 
got the kids."

Numbed, Joanne only sobbed. Then, 

"Daddy?" Michael called out.

"Yes, Michael.." Roy answered his eleven year old son.

"Jesse didn't go to the store with us today. She stayed
back to eat lunch over at Carrie's house."

"What?!"

Joanne started nervously. She put a hand to her mouth.
"Roy, where is she?"

He whirled to the house.



"Roy!!!" A man's voice. It was Vince. He was hustling
Carrie ahead of him, holding her arm. "Go on, Carrie.
Tell the fireman what you told me!"

She started bawling.

Cap ran to the little girl. "Listen, honey.. We're not angry.
We just need to know where Jessica went when the fire
started." 

Carrie wouldn't look at Cap, even when he hefted her up
in his arms. 

Furious, Roy looked at her, "Forget about the lying! Please,
tell us!!"

She was crying weakly now, "I didn't mean to start it.. The
match fell..and  and..."

"Where?!!" Vince demanded.

Carrie jumped, She blurted in a rush, "She went to get kitty out!!"


Joanne screamed, "Jesse! My baby..!" She fainted. Roy automatically
caught her and eased her to the ground. He made a small noise of 
pain in the back of his throat, checking her.
"She's all right... Vince!!! Stay with her!"  

Vince nodded, taking Carrie from the captain's grasp.

Standing, Roy faced the house. Cap knew what Roy was going to do.
"No!! DeSoto!!"  He missed catching him.
Roy ran, fast. John noticed him, "Hey.. Where are you going? Wait a 
minute!"

"Jesse's in there!"
"What?!"

"I've got to get her out! Jessica!!
John lunged and he and Roy grappled, "Are you crazy, man. You need a 
mask in there.. An over coat..!"

"Let-- me-- GO!!!" Roy heaved away, breaking free of John's hold doing his
best racquetball court spin. He ran.
John stumbled.
Roy disappeared into the smoke. 
John ran towards the house. "Roy?!!"

Cap shouted aloud, "Gage!  No! Get a mask and belt on.. Moreno,
with him!!"

"But.."

"NOW!!"


Marco and Mike helped Gage and Moreno put on their apparatus,
tying lifelines to them. Johnnie and Joachim tested their mask's 
seal patency. Someone tossed Roy's overcoat to them. Johnnie
snatched it. Marco drenched the two with a fanning inch and 
a half as they entered the house. Greasy black smoke billowed
out into the yard. The heat was oppressive. It pushed out
in palpable waves.

On the street, Mike sat by Joanne's head. Vince crouched
nearby. "Mrs. DeSoto?"
Lying there, she moaned.

Cap flew to the cab. "LA, we've one or more victims
at the scene. Respond with an additional rescue squad
and ambulance."

##10- 4, 51.##

Cap shielded his eyes against the inferno, "Come on!" he 
hissed.

---------------

John stumbled over the front door landing.  He couldn't see.
"Roy?"                 "Jesse!"
     
     "Where are you?!"

The din of the flames was maddening.

---------------
In the kitchen, Roy was blinded. Even on hands and knees, he choked.
       "Jesse!"

He crawled further along, heading towards a certain corner.
    "Jessica! Can you hear me?"

His hands struck a hard object. Pieces flew into his face. The litterbox!!
It would be here that Jessica would try to aim for first. "Jesse!"

He groped, and found a soft body.  Soft fur. The kitten, it was dead.

--------------

John gasped. Behind him, Moreno had reached the limit of his hose's
length. He tapped the back of Gage's jacket. Gage turned. Moreno
made a cut throat gesture.John shouted through his face plate.
"All right.. Cover me!! Grab my lifeline. Give me a lot of slack. I'm
going on ahead!"

Moreno shut off his useless hose He grabbed onto John's rope.
"Ok, go!!"

There was very little flame. The smoke was ink in the air. John 
could feel the fire's heat seeping through the floor boards beneath
his feet.   "Roy?"   "Jesse!"

----------------

Roy reeled, dropping the kitten. He was suddenly dizzy. A hallway
opened to his right. "Jesse!"

The darkness ate up the sound. Then, ''Daddy?!" It was clear,
unmistakable. Roy choked violently. It was getting very hard
to breathe. He hugged the floor. "Jessica?! Where are you?"

No answer. "Jessica!"

"Daddy.....!!"
"I'm coming!"

Roy's mind raced. He needed help. Part of the ceiling creaked 
above him. He faced the kitchen again."Johnnie I found her!! 
She's in h--"

A collapsing timber smashed into his face just then. Roy
tumbled bonelessly.

----------

John froze in midstep. He thought he heard Roy to his left.
"Roy? Where are you?"    He got down onto his hands and 
knees, sweeping the hot carpeting. "Roy??"

He rammed a shoulder painfully into a frame of a door. His
hand sank into tile. The kitchen!  "Roy!!" He didn't hear anything
except the popping of the flames. 

John advanced, running a glove over his visor to clear away 
a film of soot. He saw a dark
form. He reached. Whatever it was pushed and slid away from
him when his glove hit it.
"Aghh!"  He looked. It was a dead animal, a young cat.
"Roy!! Can you hear me!" 

John was near exhaustion. He rested, sucking in huge lungfuls.
How long had he been inside? Two minutes? Ten?  He sank
down to his belly and peered down a hallway. Some fallen
debris blocked his line of sight. He shoved it away. Then he
saw blue on the rust tiles in the smoke. A shirt?!
"Roy!!" He scrambled on all fours. It was him. Pulling off a 
glove, John felt for a carotid. It was there. And moist breath
flowed across his knuckles. John looked up.. "Jessica?!"

The sound fled. Flames crackled, growing louder.

SNAP!!!!  A rumble grew.

The ceiling started raining shards. John threw the coat over
Roy and stretched out over him. He froze, breathing in tight
painful gasps. The vibrations ebbed as quickly as it had come.
John moved.
He jerked twice on his lifeline and began lugging Roy backwards
by the arms. 

Moreno met John at the entrance into the kitchen. The heat grew
intolerable. He helped John hoist Roy onto one shoulder in 
a fireman's carry and picked up his hose. A cooling spray steamed
off their overcoats and hissed onto the floor. "Let's go!" John cried.
"I got him!"

Slowly, they inched their way to the outside.
Finally, John burst out of the smoke with his burden and into
sunlight. Mike and Marco dropped their line to aid him.

"He's breathing!" John shouted "Take him!"  They did.

John ran back into the flames. 

-----

The overcoat slipped off onto the lawn and halfway to
the street. Roy's shirt was only blackened and not burning.
Cap had seen them coming. Already, he had set up the O2
and had spread out a foil blanket on the grass. They laid
Roy on it, wiping away soot and cinders from his nose
and mouth.

Joanne ran from her place on the curb to him. "Roy!"

Moreno hurried back to his place on the front door. He
began to spray it down, watching for signs of Johnnie 
re- emerging with the girl.

Mike placed the respirator mask over Roy's face and
began to demand feed him pure oxygen. Marco
rechecked for a heartbeat. 

"Roy..." Joanne knelt down and began to shake her
husband. "Roy... Where's Jessica?"

Cap pulled her away, "Johnnie's getting her out right
now! You've got to believe me.."

Joanne sagged in his grip and sobbed weakly. Cap let
her go. She sat where she was and reached out, calling
to her husband. "Roy...?"  Marco held a four by four
over the gash on Roy's forehead.  "Roy!" she cried.

"Joanne.." Cap said, "He'll be all right. He just got 
knocked out, that's all. We're just aiding his breathing
with the demand valve until he wakes up. He's ok."

She wept, lowering her head. Marco touched her arm. 
She looked at him. "Do you want to help?" he asked her.
Joanne nodded.

"Here, hold this dressing tight, but don't get into Mike's 
way. O.K."

"Sure.."

Marco moved over. She took over applying pressure to
the head cut. Mike glanced at her, "You're sure 
you're ok? " he asked again, carefully 
holding Roy's head back while he delivered the O2.

"Yes, I am. I just want my Jesse." 
She started weeping.

Marco sprinted back to support Moreno at the main
hose.

-----------------------
Inside, John crawled quickly back to the litter box. He went 
into the hallway beyond it. "Jesse!"

Five doors displayed themselves.He kicked in the first one. 
It was the bathroom. "Jessica?!" 

No answer.

Randomly, he passed by three doors tried the one on the end.
It banged open revealing a child's room. Dolls!
"Jesse! Can you hear me?!!"

                                   "here!"
 
Muffled. It came from the closet. John whirled and tried the doors.
They were locked. "Jessica !  It's Uncle Johnnie ! Get up! Open 
the doors."   John took off his mask and unbuttoned his overcoat.
The door cracked open a little bit. John kicked it ajar. Jesse 
coughed. She was on her hands and knees. "Mommy! I 
want my mommy!!" She stumbled.. 

John caught her, "I got ya..." He wrapped her with him, inside
of his overcoat. He stood, carrying her. "Here. Put this on
your face..." He gave her his mask. She held it.
"Breathe in!"

John put his helmet back on.  He found the path leading to the outside.
He tugged on his line, coughing.

The ceiling spat sections free around them. John choked, running, 
covering the girl's head with an arm. 

They got out of the house..


----------------------
Moreno and Marco rose to help. "She's all right.. I got her.."
He waved them away.  The two fireman remained behind.

John sat Jesse down over by the silver blanket. She ran to her
mom. Joanned enveloped her inside a big huge. "Jessica..My 
girl. Mommy's so happy to see you!"

"Mommy, the kitty's dead.." she trilled.
Then Joanne simply cried over her.

-----------------------

John shed all of his apparatus. "Mike?"

"He's coming around." 

Roy half moaned, half out. He didn't cough.

John looked at the little girl and turned her face
in his hand. Her skin was very dirty, but not burned. Her
crying attested to clear lungs. She was stable.

"Cap! Could you get the biophone and set it up?"

"Sure thing, pal." 

Sirens wailed and engine 38 skidded in front of the house.
More hoses were stretched. Vince helped Cap carry over
the other gear.

A new voice cried out; a child's. "Mom?"
Joanne turned. Michael peered fearfully out from around
the corner of the engine. "Michael!!" Joanne held out
her arms to her son. 
The boy hesitated when he saw his father lying so still.
Joanne understood at once. "It's all right. They're taking
good care of him. Daddy's going to be ok." she reached
out again.  Michael ran to her, crying. Joanne hugged
both of her children tightly to her.

------------------

John didn't notice them. He got out his penlight and checked
out Roy's eyes. "Roy? Can you hear me?" Roy remained unmoving.
"He's out again."   
John glanced at Mike, "Is he pulling any air at all?"

"About one every three."
Johnnie nodded, taking a BP. "Marco, could you get his actual
respiration rate and his pulse?"

"Yep."

John pulled off his stethoscope and slid it around his neck. He picked
up the bi-phone. "Rampart, this is squad 51, do you read?"

Dr. Early clicked on, "Go ahead, 51."

"Rampart, I've two victims of a wooden structure fire. Victim one's
an unconscious Code I, Victim's two's a little child. She's about
five or six year's of age. Conscious and alert....."

At the hospital, Dix bit her lip.."A code I?  A downed fireman!"
Early frowned.
"51, Go ahead on victim #1."

"Rampart, ah, Victim one's Roy DeSoto. He's unconscious due to a blow
to the head. He's also suffering from moderate smoke inhalation. He's
got a weak breathing response.. We're giving him fifteen liters of O2
via positive pressure/ assisting. He has responded somewhat to
ventilations. There's a large hematoma and laceration on his forehead.
Pupils are equal and reactive."

##51, What are his vitals?##

John looked to his notepad, reading what both he and Marco had written
down. "Vitals are : BP 100/74, Pulse 94, Respirations unassisted are at
6 per minute. Request permission to start an IV."

##Go ahead, 51. Start an IV of 500 ml D5W TKO. Give him   .5 
1/10,000 mg epinephrine IV push. Let's see if he'll take an interest
in breathing on his own.##

"Ten four, Rampart, Victim Two appears to be very frightened but not
at all shocky. No burns are evident. Do you want a set of vitals?"

##51, How's she perfusing?##

John looked down at Jesse who was still gripping her mom tightly in an
embrace. "She's crying strongly, without coughing, Rampart, without
distress."

##51, Supervise Victim two for any changes in respiratory status and
use 4 liters of O2 when necessary. I want a new set of vitals on
Victim one in five minutes. Transport both victims as soon as possible.##

"10-4, Rampart. IV. D5W TKO with .5 1/10,000 mg epinephrine IV Push,
Victim one. Supervise pulmonary status, use four liters O2 on symptoms,
Victim two. Vitals to follow."

##Standing by, 51##

John tore open an IV package and box of tubing. He strung it and got
a line in and running. He handed the bag to Vince.

He drew out an epinephrine syringe. He looked to Mike. "Watch his pulse
when this goes in."

Stoker nodded.

John injected the drug slowly into the IV port. A minute passed.

Mike spoke up, "I'm getting some arrythmias."

John checked Roy's carotid.  "He's fine. A few odd beats with epi's
ok."

Roy started coughing. Mike removed the mask. 

Joanne reached out. "Roy?!" Her husband relaxed again and became
still. Mike replaced the mask.

She looked up, worried, at Gage. John noticed her concern. He shrugged,
"He's thinking about it.."

Joanne gave  teary smile and a small laugh. She wiped away her running 
mascara.

Roy began breathing regularly.

------

John felt a tug on his sleeve. It was Jessica. "What's wrong honey?"

"My throat hurts and my mouth is all dry.." 

John noticed the child's breaths had become a shade shallower 
and labored. "Trouble getting air?"

"Umm hmm.."

"OK. I'm going to give you some oxygen through a tube in your nose.
It will get rid of that stuffyness you're feeling, all right?"

Jesse nodded.

John adjusted a nasal cannula around her head and brushed some 
hair out of her eyes.

"Will this make me all better?"

"Sure will. Now you go sit down by your mother, ok?" He poked her
in the nose.. She giggled and nestled back into her mother's arms.

The radio crackled.  ##51, what's the status on Victim #1?##

John picked up the receiver. "Rampart, Victim One's still unconsc--"

Roy sat involuntarily, sitting bolt upright, upsetting Mike's hands with the O2
mask. "Jesse!!"

John and Cap flew at him, trying to restrain him before the IV was torn
loose. "Roy... Roy...!" John yelled. "You're out and on the street. Take 
it easy.. Jessica's right here!!"

Roy struggled, still muzzy.

-----------

Early was frantic, "51, do you read? Over?" It went ignored.

John and the others  really had their hands full. "Roy! You'll tear out
your IV! For Pete's sake... Do you want to scare her?"

The wild look on Roy's eyes faded and he slumped back down. Mike
caught his head, so he wouldn't bang in on the ground. Roy's breath
caught, he choked hard.. "Wha??" He voice cracked. Then he turned 
his head and saw his daughter in front of him. "Jesse?" 

She ran to him. 

John rocked back on his heels running a hand through his hair, "It's
about time you woke up.."


Joanne chortled.

John angled an ear, he heard jarbles or something by his
knees. "Ooops.!" He snatched up the landline "Ah, Rampart,
Victim One's now breathing on his own. C-Color's returning
rapidly. He moves about voluntarily without any signs of 
impairment."

"I'll say..." Cap said rubbing out a bruise he got in
Roy's struggle to consciousness.

John started to laugh and he couldn't stop.

The landline to Rampart was strangely silent through
the open line.

Then Dix's and Joe's laughter joined in.

-------------

  END

-------------

************************************************************************************
The Story Unfolds...

Season Seven, Movie One
 
 §§   The Fire Within   §§
 
Debut Launch: June 27th, 2008. 
 

************************************************************
 
   by staff writer, Patti Keiper NREMT-B 

************************************************************
Subject: Back To Nature
Date: Fri Jun 27, 2008 4:35 am 
From: patti keiper <pattik1@hotmail.com> 

Sarah Collins had been driving all night. An hour before noon, she turned
onto the last mountain highway indicated on her trip-tic highlighted in crayola
crayon yellow, ..her smaller companion's bored handiwork. 

She hung an arm out of a window, letting the autumn cool, beech tree
laden wind whip into their rusty gray pickup to chase away 
approaching drowsiness.

Her grandson, Joey, was leaning forward with his head on his 
hands on top of the dashboard, rubbing his nose. "Are we there 
yet?"

Sarah smiled. "Sure are. See that brown sign? It says, ... Appalachian 
Center and National Momument, and Patchogue, Long Island, New York.
Fourteen miles."

An unexpected gust of wind tore the baseball cap from Joey's head to
the back seat floor. With a cry of instant dismay, the small boy 
wormed out of his seatbelt only long enough to fling himself backward 
over the top of his highback chair to retrieve it. Desperately, he clutched 
it to his chest as his face twisted with a very old vulnerable anxiety once he 
returned to his passenger seat. But he did not make a sound.

Sarah glanced over to her eight year old grandson. "Here, Tiger. Let me 
see it." She pulled up onto the road's shoulder and came to a halt. 

Reluctantly, the boy set it carefully onto her lap. Sighing softly, Sarah
picked it up and ran neat nailed fingers across the bold stitching across the 
top above the sharply curved bill. ...U.S.S. Intrepid.. she read 
as she remembered Ben's fatal accident out at sea.  The gold lettering
and emblem blurred into the rich navy blue as tears for her dead son,
Joey's father, returned unbidden. She quickly kissed the 
hat and stroked it fondly as she blinked away tears before the boy
would notice them. "Seems all right." she said falsely bright. "Why, it's just
as new as when your father broke every law in the traffic book to get it home
to you..." she chuckled. She looked up and saw all emotion drain away
from Joey's face and it was only then she realized her mistake.

::My G*d.:: Sarah thought. ::I must've said that out loud.::  Shaken, she
forced another unreal grin onto her face and then she looked away 
matter of factly to pull on her black and white checked knit gloves
onto fingers growing numb from the chilly the steering wheel.  Her heart
felt just as chilled and as haunted as Joey looked. But she spoke warmly
anyhow. "I know that's your absolute favorite hat of all time. So feel proud. 
I know I am."

Joey's face finally broke away from its tight silent tension and he took it
back from her lap to plunk it onto his head tightly. This time, he held onto 
the baseball cap with both hands to fiercely keep it there.

Collins grinned and then she reached over his lap to roll up the window on
Joey's side until it was just a crack. "There. The wind isn't going to do
that again. You can let go of it now."

Joey didn't, as he sat quietly in his seat, hanging on with fully laced fingers.

Sarah just nodded with gentle acceptance and pulled the truck back onto the 
road and sped up, heading for the wilderness park that was located a few
minutes away from an island isthmus airport.

------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Above Snowpoint Ridge, Bluebird Five hovered, bearing its three
occupants, Ken, Joanne and Terri above the mountain slope, easily.

Ken Baxter pulled the head set onto his neck and shouted over the roar
of the bird's rotor blades. "Girls, you know what to do. Rappel down near 
the north edge, plant the detonation charges in six points at the base with
your delay timers set at the ends." He pointed."How about stringing the 
wire leads to those boulders over there? They should offer protection from 
the wind long enough for you to light them. Once they're burning hot, 
get the heck out of there. Don't waste any time. This is a high risk slide 
area but only inside where you see the scrape away signs and missing
trees. Be sure you locate the edge of them first so you'll know where to run. 
I want you in a safe area within thirty seconds of lighting the caps." he 
said, chewing on his moustache as he ran the plan through his head 
once again.

Joanne Almstedt pushed her dark bangs from her eyes. 
"We got it." said the woman. "Right, Terri?"

Terri Blake, the blond park ranger trainee next to her, snapped back into 
reality from where she was staring at the snow blown billows swirling 
around the chopper through the open door. "Huh? Oh,.. Right, Ken. We're 
set." she grinned as she gave him a thumbs up.

Before Terri could pull off her communications headset, Ken gripped
her shoulder. "Terri, if you have any doubts whatsoever about ANYthing,
pull out. Signal. Just raise me on the radio.. and we'll forget the whole thing.
Remember, this aspect of the job's a necessary chore to being a specialized 
field forest ranger beyond search and rescue. It's gonna be no different 
than the other five trail clean ups you've already done. Only difference is 
that this site's gonna react. All right? We're just trail clearing today for all
the incoming deer hunters."

Terri smiled and nodded. 

-----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
Roy DeSoto blew on his hands as he nestled uncomfortably deeper 
into his thick parka. Johnny Gage was driving the camper topped
conversion van that held the equally warmly bundled Chet Kelly, 
Marco Lopez, Mike Stoker and Hank Stanley who were dozing in the
back amid stowed fire gear and personal luggage and food coolers.

Johnny threw a look at his shivering partner and took sympathy as
he cranked up the heater for his benefit. But that didn't stop him
from laughing. Not in the least. "Roy, it's only for nine days. We'll
bag our deer, dress him out, have him converted into jerky and
steaks for shipping home in two. And then we're traveling on
the third and out of this cold. I promise you, we'll get to our 
hosting fire station on time, just like Headquarters planned out, 
to learn a few tricks from them, okay?"

"I wouldn't call airport fire suppression techniques just a few tricks, Johnny
boy." mumbled Chet Kelly from a back seat. "It's an art all onto itself. 
Right, Cap?" he asked, nudging the snoring figure slumping and bouncing
around next to him.

Hank jarred awake. "Huh? Whaa? Are we there yet? Oh,..Uh,..right." he
mumbled sleepily, rubbing his face. "Yeah, Chet. I heard you. No, not 
just a few parlor tricks. It's a whole facet of firefighting that all of us back
home have been sorely lacking. For years, the chief says."

Marco yawned from where he was buried in camping gear. "And we're
the lucky ones chosen to be California's ambassadors to the East Coast?"

"Yep." said Hank, raising up in his seat. "We'll get to teach everybody
at home what we're gonna learn from the boys in Patchogue. It was 
nice of Battalion Seven's brother to offer to let us stay in his house for
our training days after our hunting trip in the park. I hear it's still
Indian summer down there by the ocean."

Gage protested. "Hey, I take offense to that." he piped up, still smiling
as he drove.

Kelly countered. "No, you don't. You LOVE that season name. Just like
you love the idea that you're dragging the rest of us along on your crazy
idea of an annual ceremonial hunting trip as a side activity to our mandatory
cross training trip."

Johnny just grinned and kept driving.

Roy finally stopped shivering. He thrust a hand out of
the blanket he was buried in and held up a large red licorice bag. 
"Candy, anyone? We don't have to cook this."

Five hands shot into the air eagerly.

While they were munching the cherry red sticks, a familiar noise rippled
into the tightly window closed van.  

Stoker sat up with interest. "Hey, that's a chopper passing by. And it's
not civilian." They all buried faces to the window glass in an attempt to
eyeball the thing. All except Gage, who kept his eyes on the road.

"Our park's got rangers who fly, too." identified Hank. "They must be running
a chore or two right now on the mountain. Maybe hunter headcounts on
all the campsites."

"In these trees?" Roy asked. "They're all still pretty thickly covered 
and most of the leaves are still on 'em. They won't be able to see much."

"Maybe they're waiting for nightfall when the campfires start up." said
Chet.

"Maybe." Mike agreed. Then he spotted it. "Ah, it is a ranger bird. Trailing
a rope on that slope up there above the snowline."

Roy forgot how cold he was. "A rescue in progress?"

"Probably not." said Hank. "Or we would have heard it." he said, aiming a
finger at their radio scanner on the dashboard.  "How far to Park
Headquarters, Johnny, so we can file for our hunting and camping permits?"

"Not far, we're ten miles out." he replied. "We'll just pop in, fill out all the
paperwork, then we can grab some coffee at the souvenir shop before
heading out to our tag site to make camp."

-----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
Joanne steadied her line from the open side of the helicopter and watched
it fall. "Okay, let's get this show on the road."

Ken Baxter steadied the controls when the two women stepped onto
the side rung in their parkas and safetly belts attached to the rope. Joanne
rappelled first, swaying in the strong wind as she descended. Then Terri's
head disappeared down over the edge. 

Watching, Ken leaned over the back of his pilot's chair as he felt the helicopter
lift up slightly. ::Good.:: he thought. ::They're both on the ground.::

Carefully, he hit the upreel button on the rigging and retrieved the rope as
he swung around to get a better visual angle. He saw Terri and Joanne
waving at him from a snarl of rocks, snow and fall leaves. He laughed and
waved back and rose to a higher hover where his bladewash wouldn't blind
them with debris.

The girls got out the explosives pack and started working with porta shovels.

Twenty five minutes later, Ken saw the figures reeling out the dentonator wires
across the snow toward the general area of the rock strewn ridge he had
indicated as being a stable refuge to seek. The walkie talkie in his free hand
jumped. 

##It's done, Bluebird Five. All charges secured and set. And I have the primary
timing mechanism armed.## reported Terri Blake. ##Joanne's behind that rock.
See her?##

Ken looked around, spinning in a circle with a soft twist of his pilot's joy stick. All
he saw were boulders, half shed beech and aspen trees, and snow. Then he
saw  a pink.. ::Rock?:: he startled. Then he blushed and started chuckling as he
looked away self consciously. Keeping his eyes level with a cloud, he thumbed his
mic. "Very funny, you two, very funny." he cracked up. "Now stop your mooning at
me and get serious, will ya? I'm getting hungry for the lunch that's still waiting for us."

The girl's hysterics drowned out his request. "Come on, now. Girls..." He gave up,
laughing in another fit that matched theirs. Then he sighed as the pink dot covered
itself up again in parka pants. "Okay, you got me good. I was caught completely off 
guard." he stuttered. It was a lie.  

Satisfied, the two rangers below finished their mocking dance and got back to work.
Eventually, the cold made Terri and Joanne hasten their final checks on the slope.

Terri got back on the air. ##Okay, Ken. Everything's ready. How do things look up
there?## she radioed.

Ken got out a pair of binoculars and located the six orange flags marking the
explosives holes buried in the deep snow. They were in a perfect line under
the snow curling rock ledge in just the right places. "Looks good to me." he
replied. "Are you two dug in?"

##Yep.##

"Okay, set your primer for three minutes and only light up on my mark. I'm 
going to circle around to be sure that hunters aren't anywhere near us."

##Roger that.## toggled Joanne. She said, eyeing up the slope above them
in apprehension. ##All set and waiting for word.##

A minute later, they could see the chopper returning from his terrain sweep.
##Activate charge.##

Joanne threw a switch which lit the fuses mechanically. The spark buried itself
in the snow as it began to burn and travel on down the line underneath the
surface.

Terri spotted something 100 yards away on the snow field through her binoculars.
She went white with fear. "Oh no! Joanne! The far side connection isn't hooked up
at all! I was laughing so hard, I must have forgotten to wire it down."

Joanne just sighed and smiled. "Don't worry. The one we've got rigged on the
other side'll be more than enough to start the avalanche. It'll roll. Trust me."
she said, pulling up her fur parka ranger's uniform hood onto her head.

Terri wasn't convinced. "But that's just the problem, Joanne. Our near charges will
loosen the snow on our side, but not on the other side. Won't the snow get channeled
directly towards us?"

"It won't. Snow's not like dirt. It'll be okay. Leave it."

"I'll be back in a sec. I can fix it fast enough." Blake said, hopping to her feet.
She began to run out onto the snow field before Joanne could stop her.

Joanne called out her name in warning and failed to tackle her feet in a trip.
"No! Terri.. Get back here now! There's not enough time!"

Up in the air, Ken saw her move and yelled into the radio. "Terri! Stop!
Get out of there. Now!" he ordered.

But Terri had long ago dropped her pack and radio by Joanne in an effort
to run faster. The wind made it hurt to breathe as she ran in the ankle deep
snow and it blew into her eyes, driving ice under her eyelashes. She blinked,
tearing, and ran faster. "There!" she shouted, seeing the line of flags a few
feet away. She hurtled herself onto her stomach and twisted the frozen wires
together. "Got you.." she gasped, and just as swiftly, threw herself back onto
her feet for the dash back over to Joanne and their safe spot.

Then the ridge exploded above her as the demolitions went off.

She was halfway back across the slope when she heard a roar, a deep throated
cascade of sound, begin to vibrate all around her. ::The avalanche!:: she 
thought.  A reflex reaction to look up the mountain caused her to trip and fall
hideously onto her face in the soft snow. She ducked reflexively and covered
her head, waiting for the end as the din grew louder as it rumbled rapidly closer.

Then she heard Ken's voice blasted through the loud speaker. ##Grab the rung!##

Terri looked up and saw the helicopter's foot bars just over her head. She grabbed
it just as the snow pack exploded into motion around her inside of the newly 
born avalanche. Squeezing her eyes shut, Terri pounded on the door of the chopper.
"Go! Go now!" She locked her elbow tight and saw the ground fall away below her
as Ken frantically gained altitude. She heard the blades strain with her increased
uneven weight and she felt him battle to counter balance the chopper. She felt 
stinging projectiles of ice start to pelt her legs and stomach as the slide deepened 
and threatened to drag her free of the runner. Heavy snow clouds smothered her, 
shoving and snatching. It grew dark and suffocating.

Terri's thoughts shrank down to a blind tiny plea.. ::Only a few feet more! Only a few feet---::
Terri saw bright sunlight suddenly stab into her eyes and then she knew nothing more.   

----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Sarah Collins squinted at the glare of the hot sun and she shut the shade next 
to her bed. ::Whew.. it's hot here in the valley. It's a perfect day to go swimming.::
she thought. Indian summer had bitten hard and the temperatures were climbing
despite the amber and yellow of the fall leaves billowing in the trees outside.

Joey Collins ran out of the bathroom in his swim trunks, trailing a towel, and 
chewing on his beloved baseball hat. "Grandma, can I bring my navy ships, too?"

"Well, I don't know.." she said, quite honestly.

"Paul Carnes said I could if I were careful." said the boy, wide eyed, with a toy
in each hand, a well worn frigate and an aircraft carrier moulded in silver plastic.
Sarah could see the navy figures Joey had carefully taped to their decks by
their feet as he pushed them along the wooden floor between them.

"Was careful, dear." She sighed. "All right. I guess so if that nice, young ranger
said you could."

"Don't worry. He did. He even asked to see all of them, too." With an excited
yell, Joey packed his ships in hasty scoops into his battered wooden suitcase,
shut it, and dashed out the door of the cabin dorm noisily.

Sarah shouted after him. "Don't forget to eat lunch in the cafeteria!"

"I won't! Don't worry."

Paul Carnes had been very polite to them and had shown great patience to
Joey's insistent questions about the ranger's base station. ::Even the one 
asking about whether or not their helicopters had toilets in back.:: she thought
with amusement.   

Sarah had found out that the Appalachian Center Park was just more than 
the usual state park with an assortment of picnic tables, trails and directories. 
It was a research base, hospital, heliport, fire base, wildlife management site, 
and a national momument, all within 100,000 square acres of mountains, 
marshes and partially developed small town island coastline. And it served
525, 000 tourist visitors and New York state residents every year. Their state
of the art camping services was the whole reason for the Collins trip out
east. They both still had some healing to do with the loss of Benjamin 
and Sarah figured the best way to do that was to get the boy and herself
back to nature at its roots. She had booked them for a five day expedition
into the mountain valley directly below Snowpoint Ridge which was already
wearing its winter cap of white in the upper elevations. 

Sarah smiled at the way it looked. It was shimmering in the heat, framed by 
the light orange wavering beech tree leaves rustling in the breeze around
the window. ::Joey does need to get away.:: she decided once more. ::Away 
from home and bad memories. Not to forget them, but to recover something
very vital to the boy's well being...:: Unbidden, a tear fell down her cheek
silently. ::And mine.:: she sighed mentally.

-----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

"Joanne, I don't know why you're making such a big deal." Terri shrugged,
as Almstedt taped up her various scrapes and cuts and applied a compress
to the big bruise on her leg. "I was fine. I just tripped, that's all.
Ouch!" she said when her doctor friend washed out a laceration a little
too roughly with sterile saline, and dressings.

"Terri Blake, you were almost killed today. We almost lost you to
that avalanche. If Ken hadn't've been able to steady the chopper--" she 
broke off, choking up. "Oh, Terri. You're my best friend. But sometimes 
you just don't think." she said exasperated. "You being my best nurse is 
besides the point. Lately, you've been proving yourself to be an absolutely 
lousy park ranger. Paul's still deciding whether or not to drop you from 
the program all together."

"What?! Why? I wasn't killed. So I got a scratch on the leg." she said,
wincing. "What did I do wrong?" the red blond haired girl asked, 
wincing at the stitches pulling under the gauze that Joanne had just 
taped into place.

"Everything.." Joanne said, peeling off her gloves angrily. "You risked
yourself dangerously for no good reason."

"I was born in the heart of New York City. Do you expect me to just take 
to the great wild outdoors overnight? I'm not used to anything up here.
Not yet anyway." Terri insisted. "Look, I'm sorry. I come from the big
city, working as an inner city R.N. There's no written orders for me
to follow on a chart, okay? I'm not used to that."

"There are spoken ones. Ones that'll keep your butt safe if you choose to 
listen. A park ranger is much more than just being a tour guide in a
mounty hat. You have to listen to us, while we're teaching you." Joanne began
to pace, her long dark hair fanning around her brown cherubic eyes.
"That you don't seem to do at all, Terri. Why? Have you got a deathwish 
or something? You could have died up there today." she said,
taking a seat again, to recheck her wrapping job.

"This... is just.... a scratch." Terri insisted, finally turning pure iron,
holding her body stiff with anger.

Joanne gave out a sigh of exasperation as she rolled back on
her wheeled stool in the medical cubicle. "A little scratch?" she
exclaimed in disbelief. "Listen Terri, when I got to you, you were
out cold. Your grip on that rung was so tight, it took a muscle relaxant
to pry your fingers and arm free. At first we though you broke your
back, so we boarded you."

"Well I'm fine, okay? Vitals normal remember?" she mocked.

The silence stretched between the two women like sour taffy.

Finally, Joanne whispered. "What were you thinking out there, Terri?
What could possibly be more important than your job?"

Terri snapped, pulling her eyes away from the spot on the ceiling
at which she had been staring unseeing. "That's just it, ok?"

"What is?" Joanne asked, thoroughly frustrated and worried.

"You don't get it, do you?"
Terri's face hardened as she withdrew. "Listen, Joanne. 
Get off my back. You're entering VERY personal territory." 
she said through clenched teeth. Rapidly, the thirties something
nurse began to pull her gown off before she put her new clothes 
and pants back on. "If you guys are through with me, I'm leaving."

"Why are you so mad? I know you're not mad at me.." Joanne 
struggled to think. Then it dawned. "Oh, so that's it. You're worried
about your career switch, aren't you?"

Terri brushed impatient red hair away from her scratched, still thawing
face. "What's it to you?" she snapped, suddenly defensive.

"Everything if it's tearing my best friend apart."

Terri's snarling wall crumbled. "Oh, yeah? Oh, yeah.. All right
then. So? So I'm a little bugged. Okay, uh, all right. I AM worried. 
You say I'm not doing well in the program...Now that's a little scary."

::A crack in the dam.:: Joanne thought and she smiled. "You gave
up two scholarships for medical practitioner school just for this job,
didn't you?"

"How'd you find out about that? Getting d*mn*d nosy in your old
age, aren't you?"

"Paul told me." Joanne said, the smile failing.

The last of Terri's rage seeped away. She blushed in apology
but didn't say anything.

"You do like what you do now, don't you?" Joanne asked softly.

Terri's face collapsed in misery. "I don't know. I just don't know.."
she sobbed.

"You must want this very badly to care so much." Terri said,
taking her into a hug. "You gave up your chance at med
school to start a field ranger's job from scratch. Now that's
something in my book. And that's what I'm going to tell Paul."

Blake sniffed, her emotions turning numb, on auto-pilot.
"My head hurts." Terri mumbled, feeling vulnerable and raw.
 
Dr. Almstedt grinned gently and straightened up in her white 
lab coat. "Mine would too, if I had half a mountain land on me.
Now off to bed. You're still shaking. I'll follow you to
your dorm." 

"What?" Terri said numbly, as they separated. 

"I'm releasing you." she said, taking off her stethoscope 
and putting it into her pocket.

"Why? I thought I had to be under observation for 
twenty four hours because I was unconscious."
Terri asked, surprised.

"That was psychogenic. Your films are clear. I want
you to think about your life here and how far you want
to go with it. Seriously. Just why did you pick my particular
neck of the woods to play in? That's the burning question
I think." she said, firmly glaring. 

Terri hesitated. She had never really thought of why past
the whimsy of not being citybound. Unbidden, her mind
betrayed her. ::Paul Carnes is here.:: it said. But out loud,
Blake replied carefully. "Maybe.. because.. I wanted to
find out whether or not I could handle it and my only 
chance was to go right then. A once in a lifetime opportunity.
I would've never forgiven myself if I had let that slip by."

Hearing just the offered false reason, Joanne beamed. 
"Exactly." she said, peeling off her white coat. 
She pulled the curtains back from around their exam room. 
"Let's go."

R.N./ Park Ranger rookie Terri Blake took a long time
before following.

----------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Chet Kelly whistled low in his throat as the gang piled into
the main lodge. "This is some reception area." he said,
tugging his fisherman's cap a little more firmly onto his
head. "Weather radar, automated nature exhibits,
emergency communications dispatch, and a clinical hospital. 
I'm impressed." he said, spinning around in a circle. 

Paramedic Park Ranger Captain Paul Carnes scoffed
at him from his desk. "Did you think this was just another
log cabin appearing, bare bones, unheated nature center,
complete with zitfaced college students reading off
Smokey the Bear propaganda?"

"Well, no I.."

Paul let Kelly off the hook. "We do that, too." he grinned,
rubbing his gray stubbled rugged chin. "Hi, Welcome
to Appalachian Central. What can I do for you today?
I'm in charge here. The student who normally warms 
this seat, is at lunch."

Hank Stanley stepped eagerly forward. "Uh, sorry, didn't
mean to show our ignorance so loudly. We're from  
California, L.A. area. We're going deer hunting for the 
next three days. Tag number 70." he said, presenting 
paperwork. 

"How many?"

"Six." Roy spoke up.

"Know how to keep yourselves from getting lost 
in the woods? How to handle camp fires safely?"

"Absolutely." Cap chuckled as the others did.
"We handle fire every day."

Paul didn't get the joke or the reference. But he
smiled anyway. "Okay." he said, pulling a handy
talkie from a lower desk drawer.  We issue a 
short wave radio out to every hunting party. This is.."

"...an H.T. 100. With a range of ten miles by
repeater tower and a range of a hundred feet
from the local aerial rod powered by a nickle
ion battery." Hank replied.

"Yes, that's right." Carnes said, eyeing up his
visitors with new respect as he took their identification
information down on his forms. Then he noticed 
the symbol on all of their licenses. "Oh, well that
explains it. Sorry, fellows. We're not used to
fire and EMS professionals hunting here. We're
usually not that fortunate. We typically get young 
upstarts from the city who've never handled a bow 
or gun in the woods before, and they go shooting up 
the place." He started laughing as he sipped his cold
coffee. "Sometimes, I think we pull more shot hunters
off the mountain than we do whitetails. Doe or buck 
permit?"

"Buck. We're all sharing the venison and yeah, we
found a guy in town to butcher and prepare the meat
afterwards. He'll ship it home for us, too." Hank said.

"Nice. Any other business scheduled in the park?"

Marco replied. "Not unless a plane crashes here."

Paul's brow wrinkled at that answer and he actually
looked up from his electric typewriter.

Stoker elaborated as he picked up park maps,
trail pamphlets and guidelines from the table 
next to them. "We're crosstraining fire prevention
at Long Island MacArthur Airport in Ronkonkoma
all next week."

"Oh, at Islip." Paul said. "That's just over the mountain.
Sure as the crow flies. It's right on the ocean."

"Thanks." 

Carnes finished up their paperwork and handed them
their issued radio. "Use channel eight for any questions.
Our dispatcher will forward you to any services you might
need, anything from search and rescue to local tour guide. 
Just call. 24/7. We even offer hunters flights by helicopter 
overseeing their tag area's terrain."

Gage spoke up. "Uh, we won't need that. I'm an expert tracker."

"So you say." said Chet, teasing.

"Well I am." Johnny insisted, frowning at Kelly.

Paul Carnes expression was professionally polite as he
ignored their antics.

Lopez wondered. "Any restaurants here?"

"The cafeteria, next building over. Food's served from
noon to two and then six to eight every night. There's
even a pool hall and indoor swimming park." Carnes replied
warmly.

"Cool! Cap can we-" Kelly began.

Hank cut him off without even moving his head.
"Nope. There's camp to set up. If we have time after
we get our buck and bring him into town, then you can go."

"Aww, Cap."

"Just you shush." Hank said, holding up a serious finger.
"If you go now, you won't know where we are. Stoker's
got all our maps. And I know you don't know how to read
forest ones."

Kelly sighed like a kid denied candy. 

Just then, the door connecting the tunnel leading to
the local hospital opened and two women wandered into the
lodge. One of them was limping. Johnny's practiced paramedic
eye noticed the fresh injuries and their ranger clothes.

"Ooo.. looks painful." he commented. "What happened to
them?"

Paul looked up with undisguised relief at Terri Blake and 
Joanne Almstedt. "The younger one thought she'd become
a Hollywood stunt double during a demolition exercise
to loosen packed in snow. The one holding her arm,.. is
her doctor."

"Doctor?" Johnny startled, the interest in his eyes 
suddenly sparking.

Paul just sighed, seeing another tourist Romeo encounter
in the making. He gestured to them. "Come on. I'll introduce
you. I have to grab their reports anyway. Hey Joanne! Terri!
Wait up!" he circled round his desk, picking up his portable 
radio on multiple channel scan.

The two women halted at the glass entryway doors and turned
around.

Beside Johnny, Chet breathed in expansively. "I think I'm in love."

Gage shot him an irritated glance. "Learn to be a gentleman, okay?"

"Oh, and you are?" Kelly scoffed instantly, only partially harsh.

The gang wearing camping gear tramped forward to meet
the still flight tunic'd park ranger women. 

"This is going to be a wonderful vacation, Roy. Just like I said."
Gage told Desoto, smacking him on his arm as he walked
ahead eagerly.

"Only for some of us, pal." He trailed off when he saw that
his partner was already long gone. "Good luck." he offered
belatedly. DeSoto had finished rubbing his tired eyes when 
he finally joined him and the others at their side.

---------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- 

Photo: A winter road in a New York state forest.

Photo:  Sarah Collins, grandmother type, blond hair.

Photo: Joey Collins, grandson to Sarah.

Photo:  A U.S.S. Intrepid naval cap.

Photo:  Park rangers working on a snowy mountain
             in safety red, with explosives near a chopper.

Photo:  A slope ranger planting a charge in snow.

Photo:  An avalanche.

Photo: Pilot / Park Ranger Ken Baxter, shouting down inside the chopper.

Photo:  Johnny and Roy driving the rover in a forest.

Photo: The Station 51 gang wearing street clothes, laughing.

Photo:  Doctor / Park Ranger Joanne Almstedt, in a hospital, worried.

Photo: R.N. Park Ranger Terri Blake lying injured on a gurney.

Photo:  An extravagant National Park Lodge Lobby.

Photo: Park Ranger Paramedic Captain Paul Carnes, smiling.

Photo: Roy DeSoto in street clothes, grinning happily.


**************************************************
From:  patti k (pattik1@hotmail.com)  
Sent: Sun 11/23/08 1:49 AM 
Subject: Hit and Miss

Paul Carnes preceded the group of men he had just learned were
firefighters over to the actively fussing Joanne Almstedt and the still 
slow moving Terri Blake under her supporting arm. 

Reaching out, Carnes lifted Blake's chin, appraisingly analyzing her injuries.
"Terri, so nice of you to not call me as soon as you could." Paul
smiled through tightly polite teeth. His sugared glare also chided
Joanne the doctor for not instigating the same courtesy. "I love 
being left in the--- " 

Terri cringed self consciously and shrugged her shoulders. "Joanne says 
I'm fine enough, or I wouldn't be up and walking around." she coughed, 
grimacing as her muscles twitched underneath her light clothes. She 
met his eyes only reluctantly. ::Is he mad at me?:: she thought. 
::Oh, please, don't be mad.:: thought the red haired student park 
ranger/nurse."I'm really really sorry, Paul.  Do you really believe 
I expected to become part of the mountain when I got up this morning?
I only wanted to climb it and blow up a few bits like the rest of 
the team."

"Let's just say we'll be discussing all of this later over a power lunch or two, 
hmm? Oh, look. Guests!" Captain Carnes warned her as Chet Kelly
and Johnny Gage got within earshot. "Terri,.. Joanne... Meet a fire and med
crew from California. They're going to try their luck bowhunting whitetails."

Terri and Joanne both gave the new arrivals weakly enthusiastic smiles when 
they caught the glint of male interest from the first two in the group. 

A dark haired, copper skinned young man stepped forward.
"Hi there. I'm Johnny Gage, and this is my friend er.. actually, more of 
a good coworker--"

"...Best pal." piped up Kelly instantly, holding out his hand eagerly in
front of Terri's scratched up free one.

"...Chet Kelly." Gage finished brightly game, despite his veiled irritation
at being beaten out of a handshake.
 
"Charmed fellas." Dr. Almstedt said, reaching over Terri's reaching fingers to 
intercept the curly haired fireman's greeting grip instead. "Uh,.. have fun 
in the park, on us, okay? Maybe later Ken Baxter, our pilot, can give you 
the flying tour."  she added in a rush, abruptly turning Terri around with
her to started heading back over to the dormitory.

"Sure. Sure.. don't let me stop you." said Kelly in a chivalrous beam. 
"I see you're kinda busy and--"

"Here!" Gage said warmly. "Let me help you with the doors ladies..." he said,
grandly, stepping out hastily with a gentlemanly bow as he opened them for
the pair. "Eh heh. Have a nice day. See you later perhaps?" he suggested,
maneuvering around Kelly's front spot.

Joanne thwarted Terri's curious replyback with a poke into a sore rib. "There's
always that chance...." she blurted as they disappeared into the corridor.

The glass doors closed behind them. "....next spring.." Almstedt chuckled.

Terri protested, trying to look around Joanne's shoulder. "Hey, that was
rude. And they seem like really nice guys, too."

Almstedt was firm. "You're my patient and we're still in the middle of
a transport between facilities. Flirt all you like in the morning..."

Terri's face fell and she scoffed. "Psssft."

"....with Paul." 

Blake's jaw dropped and she paled more than what her injuries attributed to.
"Wh-- You know about me liking him?!" And she sagged, stunned.

Laughing, Joanne kept her on her feet. "Terri, you've been broadcasting
that message to the whole team without a radio,.. for weeks now. It's far
from being a secret admiration. I think the only person who doesn't know
it is.."

"...our captain himself." sighed Terri.

Joanne stopped their progress in front of Blake's dormitory door. She
took her name tag hanging on its cord and swiped the magnetic lock open
derisively. "It's not the end of the world yet, or even the day if you shower
fast enough.."

"Yes, it is.." Blake pouted. "I'm afraid I'm not hungry anymore."

"Only for food." Joanne winked, correcting her.

Blake made a face. "Get outta here." she said, entering and crooking
her thumb. She slammed the door in her friend's face teasingly. With
force.

"I'm gone.." Doctor Almstedt chuckled, heading back the way she had 
come to go give Carnes her medical report on Terri. "Looks like
you're fully recovered." she smirked.

---------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- 

Photo:  Terri Blake, Ranger R.N. smiling.

Photo:  Park Ranger Captain Paul Carnes, firm look.

Photo:  Dr. Joanne Almstedt looking analytical.

Photo:  Johnny Gage in paisley, cheeky.

Photo: Chet Kelly in fish gear, nerdily dressed.

Photo: The gang setting up deer camp tents.

Photo: Gage's rover by the shores of a fall lake.

**************************************************
From:  patti k (pattik1@hotmail.com)  
Sent: Tue 11/25/08 4:18 AM 
Subject: Starting Gate...

It was dawn at the International Long Island MacArthur Airport in  
Ronkonkoma, New York. A brisk chill breeze was blowing
over the runways and open spaces of ISLIP from the ocean, 
but the morning was far from quiet locally.

*Honk! HonnnnKKKKkkkk!* Airport Rescue Firefighter Chris
Rorchek slammed the fire van's truck horn once again
at the guard shack at the gate surrounding the runway field.

His bumper was only inches from nudging the lowered brightly
striped and light winking gate arm.

Beside him, and belted in the bright yellow mobile van, was 
his brother and fellow firefighter Ted Rorchek, who chuckled.
"Easy, Chris. It'll take all day to get through if you get too
belligerent."

Chris, a large, towering brown haired, hazel eyed man with
a crew cut, glared at his younger brother. "Geez, Ted. This is the 
state of New York. How can anybody from here come on too strong, 
huh? We're all real direct and we yell. It's how we communicate with 
each other." Irritated, he reached behind him into a duffle bag and 
pulled out another strapped square satchel to put into his lap. "Hey buddy!
Come on already! We're not strangers here for Pete's sake! What part
of the logo on the side of our truck don't you understand?!" He 
shouted through the wind shield. 

Ted laughed again. "In this light, you can't see anything yet. And I'll
just bet the darkness is still making us look washed out. We could very
well be that lost passenger taxi van he thinks we are."

"That's his problem!" Chris boomed. "He must be real blind if
he can't see the lightbar silhouette on top." He grumbled, slumping 
into his belted seat. He sighed hugely and rubbed his hungry face.
"Now you know why I hate going off property on business errands
for dad. We have these lame-brain outer gate guys to deal with 
every morning."

"You should be used to this then. He's probably only carrying
out his ordered procedures, step by step. And besides, Dad
needs us to pick up some of the more nitty grittier chores of 
fire chief for him while he gets set for our guests coming in a 
few days." Ted said.

"You mean those California fire boys? I don't like 'em already.
I mean, how can anybody who's never seen snow handle
fighting fire in this cold?"

"It hasn't snowed yet." Ted countered mildly, still grinning.

"No, but it will, soon after they get here." Chris insisted.
"That's what the tower said."

"What's that have to do with anything? Hot or cold, these
are L.A. County firefighters coming to train with us. They
see fifteen times the business we do." Ted said, admiration
stars in his eyes. "All we get are terminal building medical calls
and small aircraft emergency landings on a regular basis."

"Maybe, but we're good." Chris pointed a finger at him.

"Yeah, we are. But so are they, so don't judge them before
the fire engine's left the bay.  It won't take long to acquaint them 
to our kind of equipment and fire protocols. Our automated stuff's 
probably gonna seem weird to them." Ted suggested.

Chris's eyes mirrored a little boy's fondness. "Yeah, supertankers, 
and high energy thermal suits.." he chuckled, instantly happy. 

Then the older brother sat upright when the guard put down the phone 
receiver back into its cradle. "Ooo. Ooo. He's gonna do it. He's gonna 
let us in faster than fifteen minutes this time."

Ted broke off his speech about fellow firefighters as he, too,
held bated breath as they both watched the security guard
move inside the shack.

Then the phone rang again. Faintly. In the shack.

"Noo. no. no. no. no!" Chris chided as the guard's distracted
hand reached up to answer it. 

Oblivious, the guard picked it up after only a half second's 
scrutinizing glance at the airport vehicle still waiting outside.

Ted chuckled. "OhHhhhhhhhh.., bad luck." Then his face
fell when he caught a slight avoiding smile blossoming on
the security guard's mouth. "Wait a minute. That's gotta be 
Mike Porter working us, man. Just gotta be." And his own anger 
started rising.

"From the tower?" Chris asked, incredulous.

"Yeah. He IS the head air traffic controller tonight, isn't he?"

Chris was already ignoring Ted. He was glaring at
the faintly dawnlit guard shack again. "I should call the station,
right now, and have them buzz the shack with a spot light. That'll 
wake him up."

Ted scoffed, and thunked his head against his rolled up side 
window in resignation. "Bad idea. Then he'll initiate his
unknown emergency protocols and lock down that gate arm
permanently.Think of us from his point of view, Chris. I--"
 
Chris eyeballed Ted firmly. "Do we look like civilians to you?"

Ted sighed, and angled his tawny light brown feathered hair,
glancing significantly at their casual jackets, shirts and blue jeans 
under the dome light they had turned on in order to be face
visible. "Yep." 

Chris set both fists onto the steering wheel of the van and 
just sighed with a look of long suffering. "Next time, we wear
turn out coats." 

"We don't have any extra, remember? That's why we went into
town today, to requisition a few more." Ted answered.

Chris turned down the airport control tower's radio chatter on their 
receiver band embedded into the fire rescue truck's dashboard.
"Don't remind me. Then I'll remember that Dad's the chief who
ordered--"

"..asked--" Ted interjected patiently.

Chris didn't even hear him. "..us to play supplyman for our soon 
to arrive warm weather freaks--"

"..friends--"

"..so they'll be nice and comfortable playing with our fire hoses
and trucks."

"That's the spirit!" Ted winked, happy with the slight positive Chris
injected into his running commentary. "You remembered your
promise to be more..." he sucked in his breath appraisingly ".. uplifting."

"That's only because I lost that bet with Al." Chris groused.

"Best bet you ever lost." Ted said quickly, straight faced.

Chris pursed his thick lips. "Yeah? Well Al's not here." he said,
squaring off his still irritated jaw. "I'm gonna reiterate our STAFF 
position on an ape level that even THAT guy out there, can understand."
His foot revved on the gas pedal. 

"Don't do it, Chris.. I'm warning you.." Ted said, gripping the dashboard.

Barely visible, the security officer in front of them had turned his back 
on the two ARFF men while he talked on the phone to Mike Porter while
he fake checked his information written down on the slateboard he was
holding in the other hand.

Chris Rorchek finally did it. He flicked on their reds and hit the siren wailer.

The guard inside the shack immediately dropped the phone and threw up
the gate, responding automatically to his training.  Chris shot by
the guard shack at high speed and pretended to head for the terminal as if
on an emergency call, but then veered off back towards the runway fire
station a few seconds later once they were out of sight around a taxiing
jet plane. 

They were immediately hailed by Gene Skidwell, Mike Porter's boss, on
radio. ##3-22-5, this is Tower. We copy your active emergency. Do you 
need runway escort to the terminal?##

Ted flicked their lights to black and muted their siren quickly.

Chris started laughing. Loud and long. "He's fast, that one. I hope Porter
saw us, too." he said, slowing their speed. "Man, Skidwell must have 
binoculars glued to his eyeballs if he noticed us way out here."

Ted hissed. "Shhhh!" and snatched for the radio. "Uh, Tower, this is
3-22-5. That's a negative. We were a.m. equipment check per back
on property protocols.." he covered.

##Copy band. Non Code Red. Tower out.##

Chris was still laughing at making his little brother lie on radio as
they pulled onto the runway straightaway that led to their firestation's
tarmack, two minutes later.

-----------------------------------------------------------------------

Photo:  An airport tower and jet plane silhouette at dawn.

Photo:  Morning light on a runway tarmack.

Photo:  ISLIP airport fire rescue van. Yellow.

Photo:  Chris Rorchek, airport firefighter. Looking irritated.

Photo:  Ted Rorchek, airport firefighter. Laughing.

Photo:  An air traffic controller in a tower, glaring out windows.

Photo:  Supertankers in a garage bay at an airport fire station.

*************************************************
Subject: Reversal
From:  patti k (pattik1@hotmail.com)  
Sent: Fri 11/28/08 11:36 AM 

 Chris Rorchek deftly opened the black pack he had gathered into 
his lap and pulled out a fully loaded thirty five mm camera, with a wicked 
telephoto lens. "Ted, drive for me here for a sec, okay?" And he let go 
of the steering wheel with both hands.

"Ahh!" his younger brother exclaimed. He quickly panicked
as he took over, the fire van weaving badly for a moment.

"What the heck are you doing now, Chris? Geez! Trying to get 
us to hit a runway marker or something?" 

"No," Chris replied obliquely scholar. "I've got a great shot
here and I'm not going to miss it." he said from behind his
camera lens. "Do me a favor and pull up on the east side 
of the stationhouse, right under the security camera."

"Where? I don't see anything that's even remotely snappable."
he said, distractedly turning his head around in a circle.
"Oh, wait. Wow, what a sunrise.."

"Yeah.." said Chris, not really listening. "Ain't she a beauty?" 
he sighed, actually taking pictures of something else. 
"And she's always there." he remarked.

Ted immediately frowned. "The sun? No it isn't."
he said as he deftly braked the fire station van smartly
under the camera from where he was sitting in the passenger's
seat.

"Thanks. Here is just perfect, bro." Chris said eagerly.
Then he remembered what he had heard from Ted.
"Not the sky. That plane. The one that's always there
that looks like Air Force One. I'm planning on having 
a little fun this afternoon with some serious payback for a 
thorn we both have digging in our sides." Chris chuckled, grinning 
evilly as he snapped eagerly away at the full sized jet after making 
sure his camera was the same view as the security camera's that was 
scanning above them.

"Mike Porter..." he guessed correctly.
Ted glanced from camera to camera and out again at the mysterious
jet glowing in the rising sunlight in dismay. "You know, I'm not even 
gonna ask what you've got planned. This is stupid." and he slammed
his foot down on the gas pedal.

Chris's head bounced off the seat back and he had to fight
to not drop his camera.. "Hey.... I'm not finished yet!"

Ted screeched them away from the spot and around the building to 
the firestation's main bay doors. "We're late." he explained. "Or do
you want to miss breakfast?"

"We can always EXPLAIN to dad and the others why we were late."
Chris said.

Ted grinned dangerously. "Oh, really? Do you want to spill the beans
about the shack guard being in cahouts with a guy we know in the flight 
tower, who was messing with us?" he said, not taking his passenger's
eyes off the service road in front of them as he drove.

"Yeah.." Chris shrugged, going over his camera protectively to make
sure it hadn't been damaged by the jarring he took from the sudden
acceleration. "No problem there. Why DON'T we tell Dad, the chief?" 
he asked in agreeable mock.

Ted's mouth flopped open as he deftly moved the fire van to the
front of the station and hit the switch to activate the garage opener.
"What if Dad decides to request a video review of our little incident? 
And sees that fake Code 3 stunt you did in order to get us through the 
gate a little faster?" Ted asked.

Chris giggled, very pleased with himself. "He'd probably laugh." he smirked.

"No he wouldn't. He'd yell. Real loud." Ted led on, trying to get his 
older brother to see the gist of that particular outcome. He pulled the truck 
forward into its usual spot next to the massive lime green foam tankers 
resting on either side of them.

Chris just blinked, not comprehending. "Well," he finally said. "No surprise 
there. He's a New Yorker, too, little brother."

"The rest of the gang would hear it, Chris." Ted finally clarified. 
"And I for one, don't want to be the butt of everybody else's teasing jokes
just because you decided to have a little fun at my expense out there." he glared, 
pointing. Then he got out and slammed the door in his brother's face. 
"And stop making references to my physical height. It's not funny." said
the tiny, small boned athletic firefighter through the windshield's glass.

Chris rolled down his driver's side window, totally surprised.
"I meant that in another sense. You know, as in younger?" 

"I'm sure you did.." said Ted, fuming, heavily sarcastic.

Chris sat there and shrugged, puzzled, still camera heavy in one hand. 
"Hey, okay, nobody has to know about our little gate entry headaches. That 
can be our own little secret." he insisted, straight faced.

Ted just threw upset hands at him and walked away without looking back,
making for the firebay's kitchen and the rich heady smells of food
coming from there.

Chris, still trying to make light of Ted's new bad mood, took rapid pictures 
of his brother's retreating back. The echoes of the shutterfly rocketting around
the vehicle bay failed to regain Ted's lost attention. So Chris stopped wasting 
film.

The big fireman ran a tongue over his teeth thoughtfully. "Now that's a 
milestone. He's cranky and I'm not." he chuckled. "Hmph." he grunted in 
mild amusement. He got out of the van and headed for a nearby closet, the 
one he had turned into his own personal little dark room.

----------------------------------------------------------------------

Photo:  Airport firefighter Ted Rorchek looking peeved in a uniform.

Photo:  A fireman, with a camera, taking pictures.

Photo:  Airport firefighter Chris Rorchek, puzzled.

Photo:  Fire Chief Joe Rorchek and a female firefighter
             cooking breakfast over a fire station stove.

Photo:   A guard shack at an airport.

Photo:   A lime green airport fire truck numbered, 3-22-2.

**************************************************
Subject: The Windfall..
From:  patti k (pattik1@hotmail.com)  
Sent: Sat 11/29/08 3:01 AM 

New transfer ARFF Hallie Green picked up her feet more as 
she ran her morning run alongside runway 19A, her favorite
track at work. The brisk air was making her feel invigorated
and a very rare sweat hadn't yet made an appearance. 

The same wasn't true of her male companion who
was starting to fall behind her as he gamely tried to
keep up. "Hallie, I might have sprained an ankle here.
Have some sympathy." groaned her fellow firefighter
Al Martelli. "Can't you slow down a little?"

"Nope. Not in the game plan. If I slow down, I cramp
up later. Besides, we've only gone about five miles.
You can't be tired already.." said the petite blond haired
pixie like girl cheekily, still running easily in her fire station 
jogging suit.

"Not.. not tired.. Wounded more like.. This runway's
skirt is pure torture! How can you run by this one?" he
gasped, still favoring his right instep as he moved up
alongside of her.

"I think I like the fact that there are hills and hidden things I
have to avoid, like that gopher hole you missed seeing a few 
hundred yards back." she replied, not even breathless.
A few strides later, she glanced over at the pain in his face.
"Martelli, I could call in the equipment for you if you need
it."

"No,.. I'm quite... I'm.. doing ..*puff* fine.." he gasped. "See?"
he said, picking up his feet a little. "Lead on, Green. 'Cause
I'm not. A lost bet is a.... lost bet.. I do your exercise routine.... 
for a whole week.."  Al told her. "As we agreed." 

"You and your bets. They'll be your downfall everytime mister." 
Hallie told him, running easily, her face finally falling into a tease.

"Not every time... I won against Chris didn't I?" Al coughed,
narrowly avoiding an unexpected electrical post that
appeared out of the dawn gloom ahead of him.

Hallie's reply was drowned out by the sound of a jet plane
roaring down the runway to which they were coursing parallel.

Green held her breath and turned her back downwind, jogging in place 
as the stinking plume of fuel fumes washed over them violently 
as the passenger laden plane took off.

Martelli wasn't so smart, he was caught unprepared and was
bowled over into a ditch by the temporarily bad air and violent jetwind. 

Green burst out laughing once the cold fresh air reasserted itself.
She leaned over and peered into the ditch. "Ah, Martelli.. you're
such a ham. Or did you forget your live plane proximity protocols already?"
she kidded, squinting into the darkness of the grassy dip.

Silence grew as the rapidly receding flight gained altitude.

"Martelli? Are you okay?" Hallie hollered down, reaching for
her flashlight on her belt.

"Boo!!" Al screamed as he leaped out from behind a windsock's
concrete pylon that was next to her shoulder. He gave her rear
a solid smack with a hand at the same time.

Hallie gave a yell and fell onto her butt in fright. "Al! You crazy.."
she sputtered. "..curly haired goon!" she finally got out. "I
could of had a heart attack!"

"You're too young for that. I snuck in the office late one night
and read your file." 

"You men are all alike. You just have to know every female 
firefighter's age who trapes on through for specialized training
from the get go." she glared, still on her rear in the grass.

"Yep." Martelli laughed out loud, with his hands on his 
sweaty, steaming cold weather geared hips. "Because I'm still
a hot blooded, all American guy." said the thirty something Italian.
But then he offered her a hand up. "Had to get you to slow down 
somehow so I could shake the kinks out of my foot from that gopher 
hole back there."

"Well you could have asked."

"I thought I did."

"No, you were ordering me to. And we're still the same rank last
time I talked with the chief." Green countered.

Al's smile wiped away. "You talked with Joe?"

"Yeah, what's it to ya?" Hallie baited. "Getting worried I'll... say
something about ya, like sexual harrassment for example?"

"No, no.. I.. well I.."

"You've been nothing but charming the two weeks I've been here
so far. You're weird, and really annoying. But yeah. I told Joe 
Rorchek that you were being... mostly charming." Hallie admitted. 

Al smiled rakishly. "Just call me 'Prince', please." 
Martelli leaned over his dirty panted knees, trying to catch his breath.
"Thanks. I thought you'd be like all the rest who came through."

"No way, I like to think I've got some class, buddy boy. I'm
from Boston, not New Jersey." she scoffed ingenuinely,
still grinning. "I can take a little stereotypical razzing."

Al waved a dismissing hand wearily at her, not looking up from 
his resting stance, still breathing hard.

"Hey.." Hallie said to him. "Now that I know that neither one of
us is going to need CPR, can we continue our run? My muscles
are beginning to spaz up."

He threw out a grubby, fall filthy hand holding up one finger.
He took a deep breath, and spat out some mud and spit. Then
he lifted his head with a wolfish grin. "After you, my fair lady.." 

Hallie was good enough to curtsy. Then she issued a challenge.
"Last one to the station has to do the dishes! OneTwoThree GO!"
and she took off in a cloud of frozen dust.

Al just about messed his pants on the inside. "Wait a minute!
I wasn't ready yet! I still got a fairly recent bum ankle here."
He said, painfully trying to follow at a jog.
 
"Tough!" she hollered back, still running away from him at
a firm, fast applied run. "Grit your teeth and pretend it's not there.
Works for me.."

"Women.." grumbled Al Martelli with a half smile. "I hate em." he 
said, digging his running steps in firmly in order to catch up with 
Hallie before she won the race.
 
---------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Photo: A pixie like blond female airport firefighter, Hallie Green.

Photo:  A sweaty Italian firefighter in a gymshirt, Al Martelli.

Photo:  Hallie and Al glaring at each other nose to nose at a fire
             station.
 
Photo:  An airplane jumbo jet, taking off from a runway.

Photo:  A dawn sky over an airport.

************************************************** 
Subject: Payback's a - - - - -...
From:  patti k (pattik1@hotmail.com)  
Sent: Sun 11/30/08 2:03 AM 

Chris heard a piercing whistle through his dark room
closet door. Quickly, he finished washing the finished
version of the photo he had taken earlier with Ted
in the fixer pan. With french fry tongs, he lifted
it out and then clicked off the red light bulb in the tiny 
space he had worked in. 

Ducking around an I.V. tubing clothesline of other 
clipped on photographs still drying, Chris crawled out 
into the vehicle bay, with the still wet photograph 
dangling to keep it from getting smudged accidently.  

"I'm coming! There in a sec!" he called out to the fire 
station at large. He grabbed his stomach as it growled
at the smell of breakfast now waiting. Then he picked off
the radio that was on his duty belt and keyed the mic with his
free hand. "Chris to Harris, grab the eight ladder and meet 
me on the east side exterior. Phase two's set." he smirked.

##On my way, man. This is gonna be so sweet..## he heard
the other firefighter reply with glee on the local station band.

Soon, Rags Harris, a deep voiced, large boned handsome
African American firefighter slid down the stairwell 
railing leading from the kitchen down to the vehicle bay.
"Did it turn out?"

"Yep. And more than fair. Take a look." said Chris Rorchek.

Rags reached out eager fingers. "OOoo ooo *chortle*
Looks just like the original one except for the obvious ch--"

"Shhhh! Don't touch it. It's still fresh." Chris warned, jerking back
his tongs and his new picture protectively. "Just go get the step
up and meet me outside. I need you to boost me so I can 
tape it over the camera lens under the eaves."

Rags was giggling like a kid despite his huge size. "How long
do you think it'll take for Mike Porter to catch on to us?"

"Longer than an hour for sure. He's not that sophisticated, Rags.
His phone calls to the guard shack, when he sees that we're out there
at the gate trying to get in, are about as subtle as a trainwreck."

"Well, what about Security? Won't they notice this and us
mucking with Camera One?" asked Rags Harris.

Chris smirked matter of factly after the briefest of hesitations.
"Nah, since when has Security been good for anything around here
except calling us in for medical emergencies?" said Chris. "And we 
won't have to worry about plane-security breach issues either. As soon 
as the tide rolls out in a couple of hours, the sea's daybreeze will tear it 
free for us and blow it out over the ocean..." he said, high five-ing
the air.

"Evidence erased.." Harris agreed happily. "Wooh!" he said,
meeting Chris's enthusiastic high five. "Let's go get it done."

Two minutes later, the firemen planted their prank deftly without
being seen in the security camera's field of view of the storage
runway, and were soon off eating happily with the rest of the station
crew.

----------------------------------------------------------------------------------
In the control tower, the morning was very routine. Security cameras
were flicking through their series of rotation images, the main
weather radar was clear, and planes were actually listening to
ISLIP Tower's instructions for landings and takeoffs fairly
accurately.

So, grinning, Air Traffic Controller Mike Porter relaxed a bit with 
a cup of coffee and put his feet up. For about two seconds. Tops.
Then he whipped them down again off the radar counter.

For his boss Gene Skidwell had entered the flightview floor with his
own cup of coffee in a like hand. The burly man paused at the sight
of their twin caffeine choices and chuckled. "And it's not
even snowing yet."

Mike tried to look nonchalant. "Hmm?"

"Expresso." Skidwell clarified, holding up his own.

Porter misunderstood. "Oh, no thanks. I got Folders." And
he fake tapped a radar screen into a higher contrast with
a fingernail.

Skidwell sighed and admired the view around them that
was slowly unfolding in the bright morning sunlight. As yet,
the low line of snow clouds were staying out to sea. And the
metallic glints of taxiing, landing and flight leaving planes were 
comforting.

Then his eye fell on one screen of the security cam network panel.
He immediately spit out the mouthful he had just taken of his
coffee. "What the--?" he sputtered, then he glared at Mike and
growled. "Is this your idea of a practical joke?" he spat.

Glancing up from a flightplan checklist, Porter cringed at the tone.
"Uh, wh- uh, what boss?"

"That right there!" Skidwell said, aiming an angry, twitching finger
at Camera One directly behind him without taking his eyes off Porter's.

Mike blanched when he noticed what was broadcasting.

Flight One Decoy, Air Force One's target dummy, was sporting
an engine for a nose and two nose cones for engines. He began
stammering as he rubbed his face in disbelief.

"Well?!" demanded Gene Skidwell.

When Mike opened his eyes, the image display became normal,
just as a gust of wind vibrated the Control Tower.  His face 
betrayed a wide range of emotions when he figured it out as
a tiny telltale shred of duct tape fluttered in the live shot.
::Those two *ssh*l*s! I'm gonna kill them!:: he thought.

Craftily, on the outside, he answered his boss truthfully. 
"Camera One's fully operational, sir. And clean." 

Frowning, Skidwell whipped his head back around to that particular 
monitor. And saw nothing amiss at all.

Gravely, Mike Porter reached over and took the expresso out of his 
boss's hand. "Here, I'd better finish that. I think you've had a little too 
much this morning, sir."

"Yeah, you do that.." said Gene numbly as he stared at Camera One.
Then he shuffled out of the room in a daze after one or two weak 
return glances back at the network cam station along the way.

As soon as Gene was gone, Mike Porter broke a pencil from 
sheer stress relief. He was no longer smiling.

------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Photo:  ARFF Chris Rorchek, thinking.

Photo:  ARFF Rags Harris, delighted and laughing.

Photo:  An airport control tower.

Photo:  An older air traffic controller Gene Skidwell, noticing something.

Photo:  A horrified younger air controller, Mike Porter, speechless.

Photo:   A blue jumbo jet with an engine for a nose and nose cones for engines.

Photo:   ARFF crew laughing at the breakfast table, in high spirits.

************************************************** 
Subject: Long Distance Approval
From:  patti k (pattik1@hotmail.com)  
Sent: Mon 12/01/08 1:08 AM 

Rags and Chris were still laughing when they thundered 
up the stairs leading to the kitchen.  A shout got their
attention.

"Just a minute, boys.." said Chief Joe Rorchek from
his office at the top of the landing adjacent to the
dining area.

"Yeah, dad?" said Chris, peeking into the doorway
with Rags after they had backtracked a few stairs.

The silver haired, black eyebrowed man behind
the desk in a duty uniform lifted his eyebrows. 
"Did you get the requisition order placed all right?"

"Sure did. I would have gotten here sooner except
Ted and I ran into unforeseen difficulties getting
back here." he said, remembering the guard shack
delay prank with some heat.

"Delayed? Has the weather turned already?" Joe asked,
surprised, glancing over at the weather radar he had
up on the monitor across the room.

"Nah, it wasn't that kind of obstacle. But Rags and I just
took care of the problem." Chris chuckled, pleased,
elbowing Harris in the ribs as the two of them celebrated
their security camera gag in secret.

"Good. Thanks, boys." said Joe.

"Are you coming for breakfast? It's ready. Somebody 
gave the high sign a few minutes ago." rumbled Harris,
still grinning.

Joe looked up from a rolodex. "Yeah, I'll be right there. 
I have a phone call to make first." replied the Chief.

"See you at the table.." said Chris. "I'll save you some bacon."

The two big firemen turned to go when Joe stopped them
for a moment. "Oh, and one more thing, fellas...."

Chris and Rags gripped the doorframe as they peeked their 
heads in again. Both their faces mirrored curiosity.

Joe's face fell into serious lines. "Phase Two, eh?"

Chris and Rags shook their heads in incomprehension.

Joe pointed a pen to his turned on local HT channel scanner 
that was always active on top of his desk.

::He heard our chatter on the radio?:: Chris thought in dismay.
Chris washed completely pale and Rags would have too if
he had had the skin tone to accomplish it. Both pranksters
began stammering nervously. Chris immediately began to
abase himself. "Oh, Dad. I'm SOooo sorry about that.. we
were just-"

The chief's rugged features suddenly let them off the hook.
"Relax, boys. I'm with you.  Our oneupmanship joke war
with the Tower has been going on for decades now. Glad 
you finally stuck Mike Porter a notch or two. He's their top
player this year." he smirked. "Let me know how that
turns out. Inquiring minds want to know."

Both men saluted in mock. "Will do, Chief." And then
they left to get themselves some serious food.

Laughing, the gravelly voiced Joe Rorchek lifted the
phone receiver and dialed long distance.

The phone rang and was picked up.

##Dr. Brackett, Rampart Emergency..## came the reply.

"Kel Brackett? This is Fire Chief Joe Rorchek from  
the International Long Island MacArthur Airport in  
Ronkonkoma, New York."

##Ah, yes. I remember the name from the county's
budget report. What can I do for you today, Mr. Rorchek?
Has our L.A.Co. fire station crew arrived there yet for
their cross training?## Kel asked.

"Not yet. They're scheduled to report to me on Friday,
three days from now. Doctor, the reason why I'm calling.
Can we utilize.. uh.. " as he peered myopically at a file
laid out in front of him. "..your John Gage and Roy DeSoto's
paramedic statuses while they're here at the station?"

##By all means. A new Registry's extended our local
California paramedic program up to the national level
just last month. I've already talked with your ambulance 
service's medical director and he'll be assuming 
responsibility for all care rendered by my men 
to the public in my stead. We've transferred licensors
temporarily for the extent of their visit with you.##

Joe sighed appreciatively.
"Thank you, doctor. I appreciate the courtesy. We've a 
few paramedics available to the airport but they are
only associated with the ambulance companies who respond 
to our calls after we do."

##I suspected as much. You East Coasters are still learning
our game with the medics-in-firehouses idea.##

"I hope to pitch that training program you started out 
there to my legislators next session. Maybe we can get the
ball rolling a little faster on that avenue." Joe suggested.

##That's why I jumped at the chance at your offer of
cross training county fire with airport rescue fire services.
The encounter will undoubtly prove to be mutually beneficial.##
Dr. Brackett shared.

"A pleasure, Doctor. Thanks for your endorsement."

##Anytime, Chief.  Please call me with any further questions,
thoughts, or ideas. I'm always available through my private 
messenger service.##

"I appreciate it. Oh, and one more thing." Joe said. 

##Sure. What's that?##

"Hug a palm tree for all of us, will you? Somehow just looking
at calendars from California around here aren't enough." Joe 
Rorchek joked, eyeballing the beach one hanging opposite his
desk on the station's community board. "We're STILL trying to 
believe that it's a real place." he joked.

##Only if you save some snow for us. We're stuck in the middle of
a late fall heat wave.## 

"Deal."

##Stay safe and warm out there, Chief. ##

"Most assuredly. Goodbye, Dr. Brackett."  

##Goodbye.##

Joe hung up the phone, and sighed as the first snow flakes began
to fall outside his office window.

------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Photo: Rags Harris, looking thoughtful.

Photo:  Chris Rorchek looking cornered.

Photo:  Fire Chief Joe Rorchek, in close up.

Photo:  Chris and Joe Rorchek discussing matters in
             a fire station office.

Photo:  Dr. Brackett in his office on the phone.

Photo:  The sight of snowflakes falling against
             a row of pine trees.

**************************************************
Subject: Camaraderie Charms
From:  patti k (pattik1@hotmail.com)  
Sent: Mon 12/01/08 1:12 PM 
 
Breakfast was a loud, jaunty, happy experience for all six 
at the fire station at the airport. It seemed everybody talked 
at once and yet everyone was fully understood by all of the 
others in a way that only a well knit team could do.

Hallie Green was fresh and showered. And her ex-running
partner, Al Martelli, was showered, but far from refreshed.
He was moping about the sink, applying himself to dishes
whose pile seemed to be growing as one by one, firefighters
added them to the wash water.

"It's got to be karma working, guys, just bad karma. I keep
losing all the bets I make." sulked Al, weakily wiping a towel 
over a plate.

Hallie snorted. "Admit it, Martelli. You're over the hill."

"At thirty?" replied Green with a little afront.

"Yep. It's either that or the fact that you're getting fat." she said 
ungraciously, but sweetened with a pixie smile.

Martelli threw a towel ball that caught Green on the back of
the head.

"And he scores!" said Ted, not looking up from his newspaper.
"Say, guys. Did you see here? There's an Alberta clipper headed
our way by Saturday."

Joe Rorchek grunted. "Umm hmm, I already know it's coming. 
Pass me the salt?"

"He can feel it in his very bones....." said Harris, teasing as
he slid the shaker down the table like a talented barkeep.

The shaker miraculously passed all obstacles as firefighters
lifted plates, moved mugs, or picked up their feet to get
out of its way without looking.

The chief intercepted the offering deftly. "Thanks. My bones
aside, this means an ice alert and stepped up vigilance for us
a day earlier than that."

"Aww, chief." Hallie moaned.
   "Won't be that bad. It's only early December.." Rags countered.
"The tarmack crew can handle those checks just as well as we can."
suggested Chris Rorchek.
"I hate the cold." sighed Martelli.
"Well then, enjoy your hot water.." Ted told him pointedly.

The chief answered them all. "They'll be busy with the holiday
crowds and increased flight traffic. I've already volunteered us
for regular patrols checking the fuel depots and chem stores. Take
on the alpha schedule of shifts, handling that, immediately."

"Yes, sir.." they all said as one, fun instantly quelled for business.

A few minutes later, Al was nursing his dishwater wrinkled hands
in a bowl of handcream as he lounged on the couch, digesting
breakfast.

A loud burp issued forth from somebody, but no one cared. 

And soon, conversation had died down to a blissful silence as 
everybody either dozed or read or inspected their turnouts 
and boots for holes from the hooks lined up along the wall.

Rags opened up sleepy eyes when he heard the wind start
to howl. "I know what we could do to liven up the place a 
little. Those beachside calendars aren't enough. I think we 
should all vote on getting another dog."

Chris scoffed from his perch on the counter where he was
doing situps. "A second dog with free rein around here. Hmph. 
That's brilliant." he said sarcastically. "Why ruin this utter peace 
and quiet?"

Right then, a close flying jumbo jet taking off, rattled the
dishes in the cupboards and made the leftover coffee mugs
strewn across the long table, dance in excited jitters.

When the plane quake had passed, Al Martelli grunted in 
annoyance. "Oh, you mean that peace and quiet?"

Everybody laughed.

Chief Rorchek looked up at the ceiling. "Looks like the new 
holiday season's begun. That's the third plane in at least as 
many minutes."

"May they all remain safe and snug for the rest of the year
and beyond." Ted said, feeling the change too.

"Here. Here." replied all soberly. Nobody wanted to acknowledge
the very reason for their working jobs' existence. For death, when
it visited, always came quickly to their playground.

-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Joey Collins ran excitedly through the visitor's center side door
with his knapsack in his hands. He ran to the front park ranger's
information desk and there he spotted Captain Paul Carnes, working
on paperwork. "Hi Paul.."

"Well, hi there, Joey. Did your grandmother give you permission to
hang out with me today in a career shadow?"

"She sure did. Here's MY paperwork." he said seriously, adjusting
his U.S.S. Intrepid Navy baseball cap absently more firmly onto
his head.

Captain Carnes read over the permission slip and waiver and found
everything in order. "Well, all right. We're good to go then. But first,
I need about ten minutes more to finish up my business. Then we'll
go get your tour started, okay?"

"But you promised to look at my toy ships today." Joey pouted, his deep 
brown limpid eyes filling.

"I will, son. I will." Paul looked around the counter in front of him. "But I have
to get this part of my job done first. Oh, here. I have an idea. This is a map of 
Lake Augustus. It's big enough to be a whole ocean for those ships of yours 
to navigate.." he hinted handed out the tourist map in a dangle. "I heard one 
of the islands was marked as having buried treasure on it..."

"Really?" Joey sniffed, his sadness already evaporated. "Let me see!"

Paul leaned over the counter and pulled down his ranger's hat.
"I won't tell if you won't." he whispered confidentially.

Joey grinned happily and snatched the map away from Paul's hand in
a crunch of paper. He ran over to the marble floor near the lobby fireplace
and spread out the map. Unceremoniously, he dumped out his navy
ship models into an eager pile noisily on top of the unfolded lake map
and began to play.

Paul chuckled in his throat, watching him from his desk chair.

"You know, you're really good with kids considering you haven't any of
your own yet." said Joanne Almstedt. 

Carnes looked up to see his doctor coworker, warmly. "I like to
think this job's brought out the best in me over the years since
I left working for the ambulance service."

"You're still a very good paramedic." Joanne said, leaning over
the counter to face him nose to nose. Her long black hair fell forward
around her face in a way that Paul found very attractive. "And I hope
we can start to bring out the best in little Joey soon for his grandmother."

"What happened to him?" Paul asked curiously.

"He lost his father in the war and he's having a hard time adjusting.
And he has no mother, she died giving birth to Joey."

"That's rough."

"Sure is. Poor kid." sighed Joanne. "So, if we can make him forget his
loneliness for even a day or so while Sarah and he are staying here,
mission's accomplished. I'm footing their bill as part of my charitable
counseling work."

"We'll make him happy. One way or another. We always do." winked
Paul. Then he turned to other subjects. "How's our star rookie nurse/ranger,
Terri Blake doing nowdays?" he asked tongue and cheek, still not knowing
how he felt yet about her little avalanche incident.

Joanne's eyes fell unreadable.
"She's sleeping soundly but normally. I have audio on in her room.
Here's her medical report for the insurance company."

"Thanks." Paul caught Joanne's eyes firmly. "I have to ask. The accident 
was no fault of her own?" he asked seriously.

Joanne blinked, surrendering. "No, this was a case of being a little too 
eager to please I think. She gave up a lot to come here for this job."

"She did?" Carnes asked. "I'm afraid I don't know that much about her yet."

Smiling, Joanne whispered near his ear, not adverse to priming the pot.
"Well, maybe you should learn a thing or two.." she encouraged.
"She reminds me a lot, of you." Then she turned for the hospital with one 
long appraising look at little Joey Collins by the fireplace, and left.

Paul nodded his head matter of factly. "Right. Learn about your coworkers.
Always a good thing. Why do I always keep forgetting that?" he self chided.

--------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
The air was brisk but still clear and sunny in the next mountain valley over 
from the Appalchian Center. Johnny Gage pulled his rover, full of the
gang's camping gear, up to Tag number 70 that was located in a ravine
thick with pine and beech trees. A lazy heat made them all sweat in
their winter coats. 

"Man. Yep, Indian summer for sure." commented Chet as he got out of
the jeep. "Feel this heat. It's making even my skin red."

Gage just glared at him, already tired of Kelly's jokes about his nationality.

Cap said, "Okay, fellas. The faster we get the tents up, the faster
we can go exploring to find the best places to put our deer stands."

Roy smiled, pulling off a ski cap that he didn't need. "Isn't it nice
that the park extended the hunt this year because of over population?
I can't see us missing our buck tag. Can you?"

"Not when I'm around." said Johnny. "I always get my meat."

"What chick scores are you talking about there, ah, Johnny?"
Chet asked, rubbing his chin mischieviously, baiting Gage.

"Don't be crude."  Johnny retorted.

Kelly chuckled. "I wasn't trying to be. But boy, those two park ranger 
chicks were mighty fine looking steaks to me. I think I'm gonna 
save me some Worchestershire."

The others laughed.

"Ah, yes, Johnny Gage's legendary Native American deer tracking skills."
Kelly said grandly, kicking a foot through the old ashes and coals
in the fire ring on the beach by the brook near them. "But we
won't need them this weekend, Johnny. Technology's beating you 
out this time." And he pulled out a little brown bottle with a white label 
on it from his jacket's pocket.

Cap made a face. "Oh, *faughh* Is that what I've been smelling all the 
way from California?"

Mike Stoker looked up in disgust from the mountain map he had laid out on
a sun warmed boulder. "Yep. Pure doe-in-estrus. Unmistakable odor."

"What, are you a buck or something?" Chet complained at him.

"No, but I am allergy free, unlike most of the rest of you, except maybe Cap."
replied Stoker. "Nothing wrong with this nose."

Hank was frank.
"Oh, I don't care what that stuff is! Chet, you go bury that pee somewhere
far from where we're pitching our tents, is that understood? I came here
not only for some good venison steaks eventually, but for some wonderful
smog free air as well. I don't need some chemistry geek like you spoiling
my vacation with the likes of that." he said, pointing to the vile little vile.

"Okay." Chet shrugged. "I'll save it all for myself. We'll see who gets the
first fletch draw. And it's gonna be me. A ten pointer for sure."

"I know I'm not dumb enough to pour urine all over myself like perfume. 
I'm not a lure. I'm a dignified human being." said Marco Lopez.

The others laughed.

"Come on, I'm getting hungry guys." said Cap. "Let's get a fire going enough
to get some chow on. Looks like it's gonna be a beautiful day." he said
admiring the golden glow of fall leaves in the glade around them.

Contentedly, the gang made deer camp, leaving their ranger given radio
sitting on top of the hood of the rover where they could listen to it to keep
an ear out for other hunters in their area.

-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Photo:  Hallie Green in a black firefighter uniform.

Photo:  Ted Rorchek frowning in dismay.

Photo:   Chris Rorchek making a point.

Photo:   Chief Joe Rorchek in a black fire uniform jacket.

Photo:  The airport station gang at breakfast.

Photo:  The airport station gang playing backgammon.

Photo:  Park Ranger Paramedic Captain Paul Carnes.

Photo:  Joey Collins, a little boy in close up.

Photo:  Dr. Joanne Almstedt, in a white lab coat close.

Photo:  Deer camp with tents and a campfire.

Photo:  Chet Kelly looking geeky in hiker clothes.

Photo:  A campfire with coffee on the grill.

Photo:  Johnny Gage's rover by a fall colors beach.

**************************************************
Subject: Off Target
From:  patti k (pattik1@hotmail.com)  
Sent: Thu 12/18/08 6:43 PM 
 
It was almost nightfall and peace reigned over
the creek valley location where the gang had outfitted
their deer camp. The lazy heat of the day was fleeing, 
leaving behind the autumn crispness that had been
readily apparent among the yellowing beech trees 
surrounding their two picketted, white canvas tents.

Thwock! came an echoing sound, reverberating around
the open-to-the-air, rustic creekbed.

On an improvised hammock, Captain Stanley smiled.
"That's what? Eight in a row?" he called out to Chet, who
had just released a fletched arrow from his beefed up 
compound bow.

"Nine." Kelly shouted back, still eyeing up the target thirty
yards away. It was nearly invisible in the shadows but he wasn't
even squinting to see it. "I'm simply perfect now, man. I told you 
that before we left home. Remember?"

"I can't forget it." Cap celebrated. "That's why we planned this
trip in the first place. Guaranteed deer meat. And here we come! 
I'm awfully glad it's gonna be venison on the menu, and not fish 
this time." he quipped.

Irked by the reminder of the rejected Santa Rose county trout
memory, Johnny Gage looked up from the stream where he was
washing the last of their dinner dishes out with water and beach sand. 
"Are they ALL solid hits in the vitals?" Gage finally asked the two of 
them.  Inwardly, he admitted a frightening thought. ::I can't even see the 
deer's cardboard outline anymore in this fading light and I'm much, much 
closer to it than Chet is.:: he realized mentally.

Thwock!  came another deciding impact sound of an arrow straight
on target. "Yep. Every one.... And that makes ten. And counting..." 
Kelly gloated, still baiting Gage. He sighed deeply, invigorated. 
"Care to go six against six, Johnny boy?" he finally trickled.

Johnny was instantly on his feet.  He dropped the empty, bottom burned 
pork and beans pan onto the sandbar half full with creek water, to 
soak. "You're on. That arm's of yours has got to be getting tired out 
by now."

Mike Stoker chuckled from where he was snoozing in his steaming
shoes near the roaring campfire. He lifted his head from a convenient 
pillow log. "On an engine firefighter? Johnny, are you for real?
One puny little bow's nothing compared to hours working with a live
fire hose. You and Roy work far too many medical calls, so we 
know you don't have the same forearm muscles we do. Chet's gonna 
Robin Hood the h*ll out of you, Gage. Watch out." he grinned.

"In ..his.... dreams.." said Johnny, scoffing good naturedly.

"Or maybe his." said Roy, pointing over to his left at another shadow.

Everybody looked in that direction.

Next to DeSoto, Marco snored loudly, obliviously content, with a very full 
stomach. He was slumped limply, head backwards, in a camp lounge chair 
surrounded by four empty beer cans littering the ground around his feet.

Roy just grinned at Lopez, lightbulbing an idea. "Tell you what. The winner 
doesn't have to carry Marco here to his sleeping bag.." he challenged.

"You're on.." said both Kelly and Gage. The two camouflaged tan
and orange bedecked firemen friends spat on their hands and they 
eagerly shook on it.

Cap's support of Chet was unwavering. "Oh, this is gonna be good."
he said, lifting up his hunter's cap so he could watch Johnny and
Chet toe a line on the beach next to the burbling ice-water creek. They
squared off shoulder to shoulder in front of the whitetail buck target 
that was already festooned with Chet's bright chartreuse feathered arrows. 

Quickly, Chet froze in place to knock off another arrow into the air.

Gage's recollection gave him an unwilling instant replay. In slow mo. 
::Raised the bow, aimed and shot. In three seconds? Tops?! Holy cow!..:: 
Johnny's mind beleaguered in nagging analysis.

Thwock! And the card target deer's ribs behind the elbow sprouted a 
new limb, pock cratered at the impact point. The arrow vibrated there for
a long time.

Gage tried not to let the noise of it distract him. Nor the enthusiastic cheers
of Cap, which followed the perfect "kill" Chet had once again executed. <--(Sorry, pun. So sue me. :P :)

Kneeling, Johnny got out his simple elegant pine recurve bow, a traditional one, 
steeped with eagle feathers and just a clean line of antelope leather for an 
arrow notch. Intricate colorful beadwork decorated its entire length as he 
drew out the rest of it from its protective, moth eaten, ratty old Seminole 
blanket.

Mike Stoker whistled appreciatively at it. "You guys got the same poundage?"
he asked, eyeing up its size.

"Doesn't matter." Johnny shot back. "This is all about skill. Right, Chet?"

"If you say so." Kelly smirked, coughing smugly as he fitted another arrow
to his bow sights on his thoroughly modern fiberglass bow.

"Just shut up and draw." Johnny said, gritting his teeth in fully aroused
competitiveness. 

"You first." Kelly sniffed, unconcerned at Johnny's sharpness.

"Okay.. Stand aside then." Johnny sighed dangerously.

Chet just smiled.

Gage's eye never wavered from the low shoulder area he felt
in the darkness on the cutout. He cocked his arm back, hugging his
now taut rawhide gut bowstring and then he silently cheek kissed his first 
chosen falcon feathered arrow. With his target clearly burned into his mind,
Johnny released it smoothly with a gentle creak of leather after his eyes 
closed. 

Away it flew.

Everybody froze, waiting for an impact.
 
The answering quiet was overwhelming.

Cap started laughing, aiming a flashlight into the trees. "I don't see it there.
Did any of you guys see that one hit at all?" he teased into the new silence.

Gage's eyes flew open and his mouth flopped open. "What?"

Roy didn't giggle. "Why don't you try that again, junior. You haven't had a 
chance to warm up yet like Chet did before he started practicing."

"Yeah.. uh, I think I will." Gage stammered, still utterly surprised that his sure 
"feel" didn't match the outcome that he knew he had normally experienced, 
all of his life. "I..uh, m- missed? Are you sure?" he whispered.

Chet was gentlemanly enough not to jab a man when he was down. "No biggie,
Gage. Don't worry. I'll help ya look for that one afterwards. Cap, can
you turn off that flashlight so our eyes can get readjusted again?"

"Oh, yeah, right. Sorry." Hank replied, shutting off the torch. The bright starry 
night returned in an eerily long blue twilight that they weren't familiar with at 
all. "Wow, the air's actually still glowing here. Weird."

"It's the latitude. Slower sunsets." Stoker supplied, ever accurate.

A minute later, while they all patiently waited, Johnny complained. "Sorry, my eyes 
are still buzzing, guys." he said, wiping away sweat as he tried to concentrate 
on the target he knew was still somewhere in the darkness. But his mind's 
eye seem to fail him once again.

Cap chuckled. "You should lay off the beer then. You're not very big in size, pal.
Maybe the one you had's getting to you." he suggested reasonably. "You did
drive the rover all day long."

"I'm fine." he hissed. "See?" he told him, holding up a very steady hand. 
"Maybe I'm just not concentrating enough yet."

Chet smirked. "Gage, not concentrating? Quick! Somebody nick a finger on a knife
or something. The paramedic in him'll kick in and refocus all those marvelous
Indian instincts he claims he's got after he sees some blood."

"Ha. Ha. Think you're clever?" Johnny said, getting mad. His eyes glimmered 
fiercely as he fought down a shallow retort. Carefully, he held his breath on the 
next arrow as he lined up and pulled it back into full tension.

Seconds whispered by..

Then Gage let it go firmly, his bowstring singing.

The gang held bated breath, but only the wind replied back.
 
They fell mute. Completely. But then Chet tried to save the moment.

Kelly's face lit up in good humor and he said. "Hey, Johnny. Watch this."
he remarked being intentionally silly. And he turned his back to the target. 
Reaching out behind him, he let go of his notched arrow one handed,
without looking.

Thwock! came the loud, answering strike.

"Oh wow, that one hit?!" Chet gaped.

The whole gang, except Marco and Gage surged forward to check out
the target in the trees with shocked sudden hoots and whistles of admiration. 

Johnny was stunned and his mouth reflected it and the truth of what
his eyes were telling him.

The flickering torchlight soon announced the others' return back into the 
campsite.

Cap proudly held up the deer silhouette. Twelve arrows, all Chet's, stabbed
deeply into the blue and red paper oval that designated the heart and lungs
on the target. "Nice, Chet! That last one was a heart shot for sure. See?"
Hank pointed, fingering the newest arrow shot through the tiny red circle
on the paper.

Gage, disturbed, leaned on his slack bow, hardly moving. "Where're my
shots? Holy cow, man. What happened to MY arrows?"

The others' glee washed away into sudden seriousness when they
realized that Gage was truly distraught. Mike Stoker solemnly 
went over to the dark haired paramedic. "Here they are. I found them in the 
grass about twenty feet past the target." he said uncomfortably. "Their shafts 
aren't broken or splintered. And I checked the tips. They're not even bent.." 
he tried to smile. "Probably because the ground's not frozen yet."

Johnny took them from his hand slowly, not looking at anybody. "What the
h*ll?" he asked numbly, looking at his bow arm and hand, too.

Cap replied, soothingly. "Maybe you're just tired, pal. 
Nothing wrong with that. We did just drive 1,100 miles in one straight shot 
today. Tell you what, we'll rematch in the morning. And as for the prize problem 
here, I'll take Marco in myself." he said. Hank turned and hefted up the 
sleeping, mildly exhausted but occasionally beer belching Lopez over a shoulder. 
 
"I'll leave an empty coffee can next to him so he doesn't have to get up
to go later.." Gage answered back, thinking ahead.

Hank waved his free hand in acknowledgement. "That's a good plan. 
Why don't you go get some sleep and stop worrying about the match?" he 
suggested as he strode away with Lopez draped over him. "It's just all in 
good fun."

Mike and Chet were still talking animatedly about how easily Chet had shot
out two quivers' worth of arrows over by the fire, when Roy joined his partner
by the water's edge in the dark. Soon, both of Squad 51's men watched the 
excited pair leave for the sleeping tent as they decided to go in to play some 
cards by lantern light.

Sighing, DeSoto stooped and picked up the unfinished dishes one by one 
to store them until morning.  "Hey, Johnny. You turning in, too? I'm thinking 
about going early before all this newly chilled air starts to annoy me again."

"Yeah. I'll ...... be there in a sec." he said, putting away his bow and quiver
of handmade arrows into its snug bundle once more. He moved slowly while
packing it away. Then he looked up, still holding the wrap in his lap thoughtfully.
"Why did I miss today, Roy? I've never missed with my bow while
hunting before. Not for years and years now." he wondered, still troubled.

Roy squatted by his side, thinking for long moments. When he spoke it
was softly, with words well thought out. "Maybe it was because that deer 
target wasn't any kind of real food, don't you think? It was all just pretend. 
Pretty dumb shooting something made out of paper, if you ask me."

Johnny scoffed, making a belligerent noise.

Roy countered him instantly. "Hey. I'm serious here. I'm just trying to make 
you feel better."

Gage settled, studying his hands, while he flexed them sadly.

"Have faith in yourself. I know I do. You'll still be flawless for the real deal. 
I can't see why not. You never haven't been that way before."  Roy winked, 
teasing, trying to make light of the whole ball of wax.

Gage didn't say anything and he just watched the moonlit water flowing 
by them, over the rocks, at their feet. 

Roy touched his arm. "Hey. This isn't the end of the world. You're firmly 
grounded in reality, Johnny. Not in fantasy. I know at least that much 
about you."

"Think so?" Johnny asked him seriously. 

"Well, yeah. Isn't that why your other deer hunting trips went well for you
while you were growing up on the reservation?"

"I sure hope it was. A few minutes ago really freaked me out, man." Gage 
whispered. "Kelly actually shot rings around me. Just like Stoker said he
would. And he's not even Native American."

"I won't tell anyone."

"Thanks." came Gage's sarcastic reply. "You're all heart."

"Listen. You don't have to hold that contest in the morning like the others 
still want to do. Just say you're conserving your strength or something." Roy
suggested.

"Yeah, right. They'll really buy into that." he sniffed. "Especially Kelly." Johnny 
mused miserably. Then he started smiling. "I can see it now. Chet'll gloat so 
much he won't eat until his pancakes get ice cold."

"The simple truth outs, Johnny. Can't steer wrong sharing that kind of thing." Roy 
insisted.

"Oh, yes I can." said Gage, remembering the last time he and Roy had held
discussions about honesty and people. His light expression disappeared and 
he irritatedly stopped a sudden yawn he found he was fighting off.  

Roy saw that his eyes were heavy with fatigue.

Then a fall wind picked up.

DeSoto coughed and finally shivered at the night. "Brrrr, man! I HATE the 
idea being in a state with four seasons." he sighed and then he startled when he 
saw his breath appear in front of his face. "Oh, geez," he said, frightening himself.  
Then he sighed again. "Suit yourself. I'm staying out of it just the same. Away from this 
cold and your contest willies." Roy said as he started back to the main tent. He 
stopped himself, thinking about safety. "Oh, uh, wait a minute. You want me to put 
out the campfire before I go to bed?"

"Nah, I'll do it later." Gage half smiled. "I wanna sharpen all my arrow tips for a while."

Roy chuckled. "Go get 'em. Heh."  He meant more than just arrows.

Moments later, DeSoto left him alone, for the warmed up sleeping tent.

--------------------------------------------------------

Photo:  The gang in street clothes in the woods, at night.

Photo:   A tent surrounded by bow hunting gear.

Photo:   Chet, bow hunting in full moss camouflage.

Photo:   A cardboard deer target, showing vital areas in red and white.

Photo:   Gage, looking dumbfounded, in a tan shirt, outside.

Photo:   A traditional Seminole Indian bow, in close up.

Photo:   Two people sleeping in and out of a pup tent outside.

***************************************************
Subject: The Flow of Life.
From:  patti k (pattik1@hotmail.com)  
Sent: Sun 12/21/08 1:31 AM 
 
Dawn came early to the woods. The sun was bright as it
rose, but along with it, came the cold. 

Chet shifted on his deer stand, looking at Johnny.
"Are you sure this is where the game trail leads?
I'm not seeing any signs of horn or fur appearing
here."

Gage didn't move from his relaxed, unmoving, ready
crouch on a branch. "That's antlers and hides, Mr. 
Supposedly Expert Shooter. And yes, this is the right place. 
They all just have to come through here looking for water and they're
gonna want to get at the cliff over there to lick the mineral 
salts out of that clay bank."

"I don't see any footprints here." Chet said, unconvinced.

"There's a big buck print beneath our tree. Can't you see it? A four 
year old. It's pressed right down there into the sand, plain as day."
Johnny insisted, pointing. "Look again." Then Johnny saw that he
wasn't looking, only fidgetting, so Gage grabbed Kelly's face in two hands
and pointed his nose downwards. "Try a little harder." Johnny groused.

Kelly looked in vain, sighing like a steam engine.
"The only thing plain as day to me is that the fact that the 
two of us have been freezing our *ss*s off for hours, apparently 
for nothing. I'm beginning to think that Roy had the right idea by
staying bundled up in his sleeping bag next to a roaring campfire." 
Kelly shivered, blowing on his camouflaged hands to warm them.
"I'm hungry."

"What, didn't you like your pancakes?" Gage chuckled.

"Very funny. They were frozen."

Johnny decided not to tell him the reason why. He handed
Chet his thermos of hot coffee to sip. "If you want to eat like a king, 
you just have to be patient." Gage said reasonably.

"I AM gonna be a patient, when I freeze to death by noon."
Kelly whispered, shivering. "Then you and Roy are gonna have to
call in those park rangers to fly me outta here as a hypothermia case."
Chet told him.

But Johnny wasn't paying any attention to him. His eye was on a subtle
movement in the brush below. "Chet, shh." he cautioned. He held
up a fast, quieting set of fingers. "For a moment."

"What? Am I complaining too much? Well, it's the truth." Kelly said.

"ShhHHhh. Look!"

"Where?" Kelly sniffed.

"Down there.." Johnny suggested sarcastically. "It's him."

"Who?"

"Would you just shush?" Gage whispered, growing agitated.
"Our ticket outta these icy woods. It's our tag. And he's
big. A ten pointer for sure." Johnny stage whispered.

"...ohHHhh.... oo. Ooo." Chet grunted, getting excited. He
pulled his huge complicated compound bow to his shoulder
to start eyeing up his bowstring sights.

"Not yet.." Johnny said through gritted teeth, lowering it 
with a shove. "He's still too far away.."

"Says who?" Chet told him. "I can hit an acorn at ninety paces. 
Just what do you think last night proved, huh? I can bag him
just f--"

Gage glared at Kelly and grabbed his shoulders swiftly in a partially 
angry, noise stifling warning. "We're not gonna stuff anything, 
including our mouths, if you don't start clamming up! He's
almost within hearing range.." he hissed back. He froze his lips into
stealth mode as he drew out his own bow and fitted an arrow to it. 

Amazingly, Kelly stayed mute, following suit, trying to birdeye the
slow moving buck he still couldn't see.

A minute past. Then two. Johnny remained calm and collected,
frozen solid, with the bowstring held at full tension.

*Snort* came a noise from below as the buck froze to scout
the traces of buck lure Chet had left on the leaf littered
ground nearby for a second, before he began to step nearer,
foot by foot, to the strongest signs of spilled scent.

Chet finally saw the outline. "There you are. Say bye bye, Bambi."
he whispered and released his shot.

"NO!" Gage hollered, quickly trying to deflect the arrow with
a shove of his elbow.

But he was too late.
The sick thud of a sluggish arrow hitting just shoulder bone echoed 
around the glade before the shocked, superficially impaled buck 
leaped up and began to flee away from them in a rush of dried 
leaves and breaking branches. 

"What did you do that for?" Chet asked as he watched Gage suddenly
deploy a rope to rappel down to the ground after shouldering 
his bow and quiver. "I got him." he insisted.

Gage landed on the ground solidly and let go of the rope.
"You just wounded him, Chet! And now he's suffering. Horribly."
he snapped. "Never, EVER take a shot on moving game. That's
totally, totally cruel. Those are never sure kill!"

Kelly stopped an equally heated comeback, suddenly uncertain. 
"What?"

Johnny pointed towards the thicket into which the buck had fled
with an irritated gesture as he swiftly began to track blood sign
to follow him. "Just listen to what you did.." he raged.

Painful gasps and bleats began to fill the woods, slowly growing
quieter as the distance grew between the running, panicking whitetail
deer and his two firemen hunters. But that didn't lessen their impact
on Kelly.

Chet blanched and he almost dropped his bow as he quickly shimmeyed
down out of the deer stand to join Johnny. He felt sick to his stomach.
"I didn't know, Johnny. I didn't think--"

"That's right you didn't think! A cardboard cutout's a far cry from a
living, breathing, feeling target." he said jogging after the disheveled trail
of red droplets on the leaves ahead of him. "You need to be
a lot closer to any large game to get a tip down to vitals cleanly. Now let's 
get after that poor buck and end it for him just as fast as we can." Gage 
said turning his anger into constructive criticism.

Chet hurried after him, cowed.

Four minutes later, Johnny spied the bleating buck just as he was
failing to climb the creekbank on the opposite side of the 
small valley because of his crippling shoulder injury. 

Gage could see the bright neon yellow feathers and three quarters
of Chet's arrow still sticking out of the deer's quivering hide and muscle.

He swiftly knelt twenty yards away and loosed a solid arrow that caught 
the buck squarely in the white hair of its breast. A fast trickle of red 
began to course down as the buck shuddered on four shaky legs, slowly 
turning his head, ears, and frightened eyes to regard his pursuers in surprise.  

But seconds later, the deer dropped like a stone from Gage's definitive 
shot, ....dead.

Gage hurried over to the fallen buck to make sure the kill was over,
and it was. Chet followed more slowly, still stunned by what he had
learned, saw and felt right then.

"But that's just my arrow." Chet said, pointing to the yellow shaft embedded
in the deer's shoulder. Its feathers were glowing brightly in the dawn's light 
on the edge of the field where they stood. "I don't understand." he whispered. 
"Where's yours? I don't see--"

"That's because mine went clear through both lungs, the heart, and
out the other side, Chet." he hissed, holding up the bloody whole
arrow of his own that he had just retrieved from deep in the still soft 
dirt a few feet beyond the buck's carcass. "Like it was supposed to 
have done with yours in the first place!"

Kelly actually flinched, and suddenly Gage bit his own lip in mental 
apology when a memory flashed back of his own first failed kill when 
he was a boy. His tribal mentor hadn't reacted as violently to his own 
lack of a kill mistake to the same degree as what Johnny had just done 
to Chet a short minute ago.

"I'm sorry, Johnny. Really, truly. I am. I never wanted the deer to suffer.
You know that." Kelly told him quietly, his face still stricken. "I sure
do, too, even more than you can possibly know right now." he said, 
getting vehement in his shock at his own, thoughtless error. His
eyes were bright with tears.

Gage sighed impatiently, with open sympathy, eager to get the past five 
minutes out of his mind forever. "Come on. Let's get him dressed out 
for our packs."

Kelly knelt and placed a hand on the buck's still steaming, soft flank, 
being respectful. Gage saw that even though Kelly was reluctant 
to retrieve his arrow back, his mind was mentally working.

Johnny nodded, answering Chet's unspoken question. "Yes,
your shot would have been as good as mine if you had been
as close as I was when I took him down. This is at the right
angle for a solid hit. It was only lack of force that broke the
tip off at bone level."

Chet just nodded, fighting strong emotions. But then he said,
"Let's not take the rack, Johnny. Not after that. It just doesn't seem
right." Kelly told him, changing the subject.

Johnny afforded him a slight smile. "Okay. Just our food."
Then he remembered another far away memory of his first
game hunt that had gone badly, so he added. "Let's build
a cairn, too, so we can leave the antlers behind. I'll say a few
prayers as a thank you."

"So will I." Kelly added quickly, even though he wasn't a 
very religious man, on any facet.

Gage bent then and freed up Chet's arrow for him from
where it was buried. He stood and handed the shattered
shaft back to Kelly with strong shades of sympathy.
Johnny said. "We are part of a Circle. Never forget that 
we're givers, too."

"And takers." Kelly agreed, understanding at last.
 
---------------------------------------------------------------------

Photo:  A closeup of a deer print in sand.

Animation: A standing buck shaking its head.

Photo: Chet taking aim with a compound bow.

Photo:   A buck down in a field at dawn, arrow shot.

Photo:   Johnny Gage smiling in a fall jacket in a sea of fall grass.

Photo:   Chet Kelly smiling in fishing clothes on a porch.

**************************************************
From:  patti k (pattik1@hotmail.com)  
Sent: Fri 12/26/08 4:38 AM 
Subject: Pep Talk
 
Cap was dozing in a camp chair, with the glowing heat
of the fire warming his face, when a heavy thunk of a tarp
wrapped deer quarter dropped on the ground in front of
him. He started, jerking out of somnolence. "What was
that?" he mumbled sleepily, drowsy from the fresh air.

"Dinner." Johnny grinned. "And for many nights to come, too."

Roy DeSoto began chuckling. "That was fast." he said,
looking at his watch. 

Kelly was lifting up his winter jacket so the intense 
radiant heat of the fire could soak into his bones. He sighed
with utter relief and blew on his hands to warm them."Not fast 
enough for me." he groused.  "Oh, this feels good. Never 
thought I'd see the day where I actually wanted to see a fire."

Mike Stoker laughed from where he was checking out
the size of the buck quarters in the packs Kelly and Cap
had taken off with appreciative hands. "You're forgetting
your boyhood days again."

"Who wouldn't?" Chet countered, straight faced. 

"Me." said Johnny, grinning from ear to ear. "I kind of like
remembering old times. And it just gets better when you're
grown up because you can see those things all over again 
from a new perspective. You can marvel at what you've learned 
well since then." he said, thinking back on that fateful first deer hunt.

"Not so fun grown up either." Kelly said. "I thought I had things
nailed down." he said, talking about his deer hunt he hadn't completed 
well with a cowed chagrin. His eyes avoided the required deer tag 
tied around the buck's ear with his name on it, where the front 
quarters and head lay on the grass at their feet. The whitetail's 
eyes were still open, wide with surprise.

Johnny noticed, and covered the buck's head.
"You did fine. The deer's not worried about anything anymore,
so get over it. We had to eat." Gage told him matter of factly.

Marco was already sawing away on a haunch, slicing off 
six steaks to grill on the fire. "Ooo, venison! Do you know how long 
I've dreamed of getting some fresh?"

"About as long as I have." Chet said, eyeing up the meat sadly. "I 
don't think I want to have any for the rest of our breakfast today." he sighed.

Roy eyed up Kelly. "Aw, come on. It wasn't that bad." 

"Yes it was. And it wasn't pretty." Kelly frowned.

Cap turned to Gage."What happened?"

Johnny held up a dismissing hand. "A shallow arrow. But we
took care of it as fast as possible."

"Oooo." Hank winced in sympathy.

Chet cringed and rubbed his face again, turning back to 
the fire away from them.

Johnny looked up.
"It wasn't long. Maybe,.. five minutes or so that way." he thought 
back. "Then we dropped him. He was a dead buck standing when
I got to him." Johnny shared. "Chalk it up as one for experience."
Gage said, looking at Chet gently. "Chet, if it's any comfort, my first
buck was alone for hours and died even worse because we couldn't
find his blood sign on the ground. He had fled too fast."

Kelly blinked as he turned back to the others after wiping his face with
a damp towel. "Where'd you get him?"

It was Gage's turn to look uncomfortable."Gut shot, near the brisket. 
In a non-vitals spot. And my shaman guide didn't get to finish the job 
before he died. I felt bad for a week. There was no way I was going to 
eat something then that I had tortured."

"Unintentionally." Roy countered.

A silence reigned where only the fire talked.

But then Lopez filled the air with confidence.
"Enough downer talk guys, aren't we all hungry?" Marco butted in, eagerly
spicing up and laying ample venison onto his grill laid over the fire. "So let's
show some appreciation for this deer's sacrifice and dive in with gusto.
My mama says that that's the best way to show your food the honor it
deserves for giving up its life to you."

"Here. Here." said Mike Stoker whistling appreciatively. But then he frowned.
"Hey, where the rack?" the fire engineer asked, still picking through the tarp 
and rope covered meat bundles in a search for it. "It's sure gonna look good
hanging up in Cap's den.." he grinned.

Chet looked up. "Uh, Stoker. We left it back in the woods. Because I..
uh.." he broke off.

Cap touched Chet on the shoulder. "And a nice tribute, too. Now the mice
can get the minerals they're gonna need by gnawing on them all winter long."

"Dust to dust." Marco agreed.

"Salt to the earth.." Gage shared, too. "Aw, come on, Chet. Let's have a feast.
There's nothing better. And I know that now." he said, gesturing at the fragrant,
mouthwatering steaks beginning to pop on the grill as Marco turned them over
and over until they were deep brown and savory. "It'd be a shame if we had to 
waste meat. The five of us can't eat all of it by ourselves. Our freezers aren't 
big enough."

"Well.." said Kelly, thinking about it reluctantly. Then the perfumey smell of heady
tender filet mignon made up Chet's mind. "Okay, since you put it that way."

Lopez chuckled. "I'll give you both ribeyes. How's that? They'll be done in
a few minutes." he said, wiping nonexistent dirt off of his hands on the apron
he had donned. 

Kelly joined him and crouched by the fire to pick up a spatula.
"I'll help you cook." he said, his mouth finally watering.

Gage clapped his hands together now that they were warm."I'll go find us some
fresh sage. Back in a minute." he said. Then he jogged out into the frosty meadow
outside of camp, to find some.

--------------------------------------------------------------------------------- 

Photo:  Deer hunters kneeling over a cooking fire in a pine wood.

Photo:  A cook tenderizing venison steaks.

Photo:  Venison jerky smoked on a grill at night.

Photo:   Johnny Gage in a paisley shirt, grinning.

Photo:   Roy talking animatedly in a white shirt.

Photo:   Broiled venison filets with mushrooms presented on a plate with 
              steamed asparagus spears, wild rice pilaf and whole 
              cherries for garnish.

**************************************************
Sent: Sun 12/28/08 5:39 AM 
From: "Patti K" pattik1@hotmail.com
Subject: The Dark Side Of Nature

After their gourmet gorge, the gang decided to
take a collective nap before heading into town to refrigerate
their whitetail catch at the butcher's for the rest of the week.

They had no idea how long they had been asleep when 
an unearthly deafening yowl sounded right next to their sleeping 
tent. 

Johnny was up like a shot and he gave out a tremendous blood
curdling yell and smacked the tent wall hard with two fists. "Yiii !
Get out of here! Yii ahhhhhhHHH  Ho!! " he shouted angrily.

A crashing recoil of something large bounded backwards with
another screeching, raspy wail that turned into an angry spate of  
hisses.

The rest of 51's shot bolt upright.

"Is that a bear?!" Chet peeped fearfully, the first to regain a voice
as he struggled to get out of his tangled sleeping bag. He finally
kicked it aside in a partial panic and sank down into a protective
crouch.

Johnny grabbed his bow that he had brought inside to protect 
its bead and leatherwork from forming ice. "No. Too small. Geez, that 
sounded like a puma. Everybody, stay inside and stay quiet! I'm gonna 
see if it's really chased off." he ordered, snatching his quiver up and 
putting it on over his shoulder. Another hand made sure an axe handle 
was threaded through a belt loop in back of his pants.

He crawled over Roy in his sleeping bag, facing the wide 
open entrance to their tent, warily.

"Need any help?" DeSoto offered weakily, scared.

Gage was firm.
"Nope. The rest of you are out of your element. Only I 
can handle a stalking cougar. I know how it'll react and how
to fight one." Seconds later, he had slipped outside into the
cold sunlight. His eyes started immediately searching 
the tree canopy above them as he readied an arrow to his bowstring. 

But nothing leaped down on him in a fury of fur, teeth and claws.

Gentle orange leaves whispered in mockery at him with rustling
movement.

Johnny scanned the area around them once again, tensely.

But the challenge did not repeat itself from a hungry throat.

Satisfied some distance had been won, Johnny retied the tent
flaps shut with nimble fingers behind him.

Soon, the gang heard a load of wood being dumped onto the
feeble smelling campfire to build it up swiftly to bonfire proportions.

"What didn't we do? What did we do wrong?!" Chet panicked,
picking up a backpack rack to heft as a shield and club.

Marco hefted up a familar feeling knife and waited by the
tent flap through which Johnny had disappeared. Lopez was still in shock 
from the close encounter. "There are ..*gulp* ...pumas in New York?"

"After that?!" Chet gestured sarcastically at the tent wall. 
"It certainly wasn't an educational recording for our benefit, pally."

Stoker added more. "Those park rangers probably thought there weren't
any left. Or we would have been notified of potential sightings near our camp."

"Nobody's perfect." said Roy.

Belated Marco sputtered.
"The deer! Oh Madre Di-- It's got to be after the meat!" Lopez 
said, curling his goose pimpled palms around his elbows.

Chet was angry and puzzled at the same time.
"I didn't think we needed to tree hang anything this time of year.
Bears are hibernating now according to this book." said Kelly,
waving a tattered, well dog-eared manual in the air in between them.

"Just how old is that book?" Stoker wanted to know.

DeSoto leaned forward, slowly.
"Uh,... 19--" he squinted myopically at it through the dirt on its cover. 
"--65." Roy whispered.

"Oh, brilliant." snarled Kelly. "Who brought this one?"

Nobody admitted to it.

Mike said. "That's probably outdated animal information."  

Chet ignored the analyses wholeheartedly. "No sh*t, Sherlock.
We wanted a wilderness vacation? Well, we got it. This is another 
eye opening side of nature, guys. At its best." he murmured, his voice 
a mix of fright and frustration. "We're the top of the food chain under
seige by something else that thinks IT is."

Hank immediately shushed everybody, listening for further sounds
outside.  The gang froze for a full half minute, fighting to control their
ragged breathing. "Johnny? Are you all right?" Stanley asked, reaching
for the ranger radio he was wearing to start a call for help.

But just the wind and more silence reigned as Johnny played cat to another 
hidden cat.

Then Gage reassured his crewmates. "I'm only being like a mouse to track him.
His prints are all over the place, but our deer meat hasn't been mauled yet.
There are no claw marks on any of the tarps." he whispered to them. "So
far so good."

The others finally saw Johnny's shadow and the outline of weapons on
the tent wall silhouetted by the sun, guarding them.

"How about all of us making a break for the rover?" Chet asked. 

"Stay put. If we try to run, it'll give chase right after us, if it's still nearby." 
Johnny replied.

"Shall we call in?" Hank asked him.

Gage didn't hesitate.
"Yes. Cougars usually don't hunt during the day. There's something wrong 
with this one if it's scavenging deer camps like this in broad daylight."

Stanley sighed. "Too bad we didn't think to bring a gun for protection." 
he murmured thoughtfully.

"We're not that kind of hunter." DeSoto told him.

"Let's better hope we're not its kind of prey.." Stanley glared right back at him.

"...just t-terrific..." Chet whimpered, moving away from the thin canvas wall.

---------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Photo:  A snarling cougar's face.

Photo:  A leaping cougar off a rock.

Photo:  An open tent with sleepers in it.

Photo:  Roy, looking scared.

Audio:  An enraged cougar yowling.

************************************************** 
Subject: Yin and Yang 
From:  patti k (pattik1@hotmail.com)  
Sent: Mon 12/29/08 2:33 AM 
 
Johnny Gage crept around the corner of the tent, cursing the 
angled setting sunlight now blinding him in half of his field of vision.
::Why didn't I grab a hat when I came out here?:: he thought angrily,
scared. ::Because you wanted to see your surroundings as fast as
possible, that's why.:: his reasoning side argued instantly.

Another angry, long drawn yowl erupted in the same beech grove
as the gang just yards away. It sliced through the 
noisy birdsong, silencing it as it echoed loudly around the valley's rocks.
Gage startled and almost dropped his bow. He whirled
again in place, facing every direction for only a moment as he slowly
backed up towards the growing campfire. He stopped only when the 
heat of it made his hair sizzle on his jacket's collar.

"Gage?" came Hank's tense question.

"Shhh! I've got my back protected. Don't utter another peep!
You're vulnerable!" Johnny hissed at him. 

Hank and the others instantly hushed. 

Snapping twigs to the north popped as something not
so stealthy, circled just beyond the light of the fire under the
trees.

Then things grew quiet and another tense wait began; a bizarre
standoff between an unseen predator and the thinly sheltered
firemen.

All too soon, darkness began to fall.

Johnny shifted as a cramp took his leg. Right then, a stick
snapped to his right. He uptook the axe from his belt
and headed a few feet into that direction brandishing a burning brand
and moving forward at his fullest height. "Hii Ya...! Get outta here!!"
he yelled at the top of his lungs, hoping that his human voice would
add to his deterent. "Go!!" he shouted into the black under the trees.

He was just turning when a soft plop of falling earth alerted him.

With a scream the cougar launched itself from a tall rock at Johnny.

That was the last thing he remembered when a hard jolt knocked him 
backwards into a bush from a new quarter. 

Gage yelped and scrambled to his feet, raising the axe over his head, but
then he saw what had struck him in that glancing blow.

It was a mule! He watched dumbstruck as the cat turned to face its new
surprise attacker who was charging at it in pure equine fury.

With a bray of rage, the fully saddled half horse snatched the puma up 
by the tail and began to shake it like a ragdoll through the air in her teeth.
Then she began to pummel it with deadly hooves and powerful jaws 
to push away gripping, punishing claws.

At the top of one gory arch, a concussive shot burst through the air in a flame 
of light and impacted the puma's spine just behind the skull. The cat went limp
and ceased to struggle as it fell once more beneath the angry mule's trampling 
feet.

A woman's voice announced itself. "Jodi!  Back, back, back..Good girl.
Now back.." came an order. "We got it.."

Snorting loudly and still braying in fury, the flattened eared bay mule mare
gave one last kick to the dead cougar and ansed nervously away to rejoin
a new female park ranger bearing a silver shield on her jacket's breast pocket.

A second male voice shouted from the back of a horse in the darkness. 
"Morgan, any injuries?!"

"I'll check."
Pilot Deputy Park Ranger Morgan Wainwright quickly tied off Jodi the mule to
a tree near the fire and hurried over to Johnny as her partner checked the puma
with a rifle of his own to make sure the gunshot had finished its job. 
"Mister, are you hurt? Did it get you at all?" asked the rugged freckled redhead.

Gage mumbled, coming out of a daze. He began to pat himself down with his
hands weakily but then more quickly as relief set in. "Uh,.. no. I- I seem to
be in one piece here. I'm not bleeding anywhere.." he said lamely. "...I don't
think."

"You're not." she agreed, eyeing him up critically.

Cap and the others burst out of the tent. "Johnny! What the h*ll happened
out here?"demanded Stanley. "I know help's here finally, at least."

Johnny regarded his crewmates numbly for a few seconds, but then
he began to grin as he examined the details of the expert kill shot Ranger
Wainwright had pulled off. "Cap, you're not gonna believe this...but.." Then
he broke off, dismissing any attempt at an explanation. "I don't quite believe it
myself just yet." 

"Teamwork, Mr. Gage." said the man with a straight face. "She's one of
the best mounted parkies we've got. Despite having a short wicked Long 
Ears there for a mount."

Morgan protested. "Hey, she's very sensitive. Call her Jodi, okay? That's
her real name, isn't it sweetie.." she smooched at the mule.

Thib just rolled his light blue eyes and ran some fingers through his neat
frosted blond hair. "Oh, sorry there, Ma'am." he tipped his ranger hat at
the brown mule who shook her namesake ears at him ruefully.

Then he offered Johnny and the others his hand in welcome, one by 
one. "Hi, I'm Deputy Dwayne Thibideaux, call me Thib for short.  And this 
is Deputy Pilot Morgan Wainwright. The two of us, well, we're assigned to 
patrol the park reserve during the hunting season for an added extra safety 
measure. We came as fast as we could when we heard your captain calling 
in a puma pin down."

Chet Kelly pushed up his eyebrows in a still pale face. "You mean big cats
are regular in these parts?"

"Nope." said Ranger Thibideaux. "Yours was the first encounter we've
seen in twelve years." he shared.

Mike Stoker smacked the useless NY guidebook against Kelly's chest.
"That sounds about right."

"Hey, that's not mine." Chet protested, pushing it away.

"Yes, it is. Your sister signed the inside back cover and dated it." Stoker
said smoothly, not smiling.

Kelly cleared his throat subconsciously.

But the two rangers weren't listening, they were crouched with Johnny
over the luckless cougar. "Oh, wow.." said Morgan. "Just look at  
his front foot, it's been crippled."

"I see it." said Dwayne.

"And he's really underweight. " added Wainwright.

Chet nudged Johnny's ribs and whispered sotto voce. "Did she 
mean that about you?" Gage just poked him back, ignoring him.

"Might have been by a car strike." guessed Thib. "This scarring's
old. And the way the hair's been scraped off here looks like badly 
healed road rash."

"Okay, so we can rule out distemper or rabies." Morgan said.

"Yep." replied Dwayne.

"Lucky us." said Marco sarcastically. "No biggie. He was just going 
to eat us after eating our deer."

"Unlikely." said Gage and Morgan at the same time. They both connected
eyes with each other, and grinned like a pair of witless idiots.

Morgan smiled at Johnny with interest. "You know cougars?"

"Yep." Gage grinned back, just as interested. "I treat cougar bait --er... joggers 
attacked by them all the time. And, I own a ranch in California in the mountains 
where..."

"...where cougars roam.." Morgan finished. "..So you battle them all the time in
order to save your livestock."

"..horses actually.." Johnny corrected dreamily.

Beside him, Chet started gagging, breaking their sudden adolescent like fugue.

Cap clapped his hands together. "So what's next? Do we have to leave
our campsite on a mandatory evacuation order or anything?"

"Nah, cougars are loners." said Thib. "And this one.." and he hefted up
the rumpled cat by the scruff of its neck "..has been dealt with. We'll take it with 
us and do a necropsy to see what the old injuries really were."

"How about potential cubs?" Chet asked, thinking he was clever.

"It's a boy.." said Gage, leaning over to his ear.

"Okay, a male. How can you tell?" Kelly asked a little louder to drown him
out, glancing down at the cat's exposed rear quarters.

"By the color of its fall coat." Johnny replied. "He's still really tawny for this
time of year."

"Yeah," agreed Morgan. "Any queen would be almost totally gray by now."

"Thanks, guys. For saving our skins and all. That was a mighty rough half hour
or so there." Hank said in gratitude.

"No sweat. But I'd ah, rope your deer up high just the same to keep off the
shrews. They're kinda thick at this particular camping site of yours." Dwayne shared.

"Oh, uh, thanks. We'll do that." said Roy beginning to take care of that chore with
a well tossed rope up into some branches.

Morgan raised her radio from her saddle pack to her mouth. "Base, this is
240 Robert. All's clear. One confirmed cougar, shot in self defense, no
injuries among the hunters."

##Copy, Appalachian Central, out.## replied their park dispatcher.

Dwayne held out his hand to Cap. "Got your tag?"

"Hmm?" Stanley grunted, not understanding.

"Your buck, we can register it now for you." Thib clarified.

"Oh, oh, oh..." Hank said. "Uh, here. My men say this one
was a ten pointer." he said, pulling off the wire from the deer's
ear near them.

"Four years old." said Gage and Morgan at the same time as
they examined the buck's tooth wear.

Chet groaned and he soon found he had to fend off their curious stares.
"Oh, nothing. Nothing." he said. 

But their mutual set of smiles was starting to sicken him. A lot.

--------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Hours later, long after dusk, a strange bright flicker awoke Kelly out
of his mentally screaming nightmares, full of claws and snarls.

The gang comforted him instantly, explaining what the multicolored 
light was.

Roy chuckled. "Don't worry. It's not a brush fire, Chet. Those, way up 
there in the sky, are the northern lights......"

"Far out." said Chet, watching them. 

It was a long time before Kelly fell asleep, not because of fear, but
because he found himself lost in an innocently deep, complete wonder
of the blazing Aurora Borealis changing overhead.

------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Photo:  A sick cougar snarling from a rock.

Photo:  A bay mule attacking a cougar, by biting its tail and shaking.

Photo:   Three park rangers on horses in a pine meadow.

Photo:   240 Robert Deputy Pilot Morgan Wainwright.

Photo:  240 Robert Deputy Paramedic Dwayne Thibideaux.

Animation: Color changing northern lights in the woods at night.

Animation: Color changing auroras over a night time winter lake with pines.

**************************************************
Subject: The Threesome..
From:  patti k (pattik1@hotmail.com)  
Sent: Tue 12/30/08 5:49 AM 

Morgan Wainwright and Dwayne Thibideaux left the park stables
with their reports of the incident at Tag #70. The DNR students at
the lodge had been more than happy to conduct the necropsy on
the euthanized cougar the two deputy rangers had brought in to
them.

Morgan chuckled. "Hey, Thib. You seemed very familiar with the
identities of those men back at that camp. You even called some of
them by name. Any reason why that is?" she prodded, smiling.

Dwayne Thibideaux ducked his head as they walked to the great lodge's
ranger headquarters which flanked the local hospital. "Oh... That... Well, I 
uh,.. sort of have an interest in the part of the country where they're from. 
As I've been telling Trap for months now...I.."

"...really want to move to California." Morgan concluded ruefully amused.
"Away from the cold, and the entire population of East Coasters.."

Dwayne had the dignity to wince guiltily.

"Yes, I've heard the hype about you at all of Paul Carnes' pizza 
and beer parties. Tell me truthfully.." Morgan pegged. "Are we really all 
that bad?" she asked.

"Well.." Thib minced. "I.. I'm a really friendly guy.. and- and.." he stuttered,
put on the spot. " I... like ...mingling with others who're the same way...uh,
mostly." he added, suddenly realizing that he was entering really hot water.
He tried to grin appeasingly at her. But it was weak. Very weak.

But Wainwright's blank expression didn't change.
"I see." said Morgan, analyzing. "You must be pretty desperate for reminders 
of paradise if you're planning on rubbing elbows with a bunch of California 
firefighters and bugging them while they're trying to enjoy their well earned 
vacation."

Dwayne deflected eagerly, still uncomfortable. He crossed his arms self 
consciously under the heaviness of Morgan's glare. He lifted his chin. "They're
not on vacation. They're just a few days early for a cross training seminar 
and training exercise at the airport. Now who's the expert on Tag 70's info?"
he said with more conviction, but still wavery.

Wainwright ate his lack of self confidence and spat it right back out again.
"I just read their registration data, Sherlock. Brilliant false deduction."
she said, waving their report at Thib's youthful, and flushed face. Then
Morgan dropped her head and sighed. If she hadn't have already
been walking, she would have started tapping her foot in irritation.
"You paramedics are all alike. You stick together like glue. Even with 
other paramedics like the ones we just left, whom you don't even know.
And another thing, Thib, you refuse to be open minded about the other 
jobs people have on the same team while you're at it.." she complained. 
"..our East Coast personality stereotype aside." she added, crossing her 
arms in like fashion. "You have this innate...mistrust.. for the rest of us who
aren't medics on every med call we go on. We ARE first aid trained you 
know."

"Oh... Now, I see. You're categorizing me again." Thibideaux declared, now 
affronted. "Well let me tell YOU something. That's not what I'm thinking
here. I'm thinking something else entirely.. You PILOTS are all the same."
he said, thrusting a pointing finger up in her direction.

"Huh?" Morgan gaped, her glare fading into utter disbelief and a little confusion.

Dwayne angled his jaw uncertainly in doubt for only a fraction of a second.
"Yeah..." he paused. "And I've seen you and that Ken Baxter up in the air, 
buzzing the hilltops in your choppers like a pair of love sick hawks... And
let me tell you another thing.. You...you..." his verbal wheeze trailed off as he
realized sickeningly, what he was actually saying for the first time.

Morgan's freckled face suddenly broke into an expression of mild amusement.
"Thib.. Are you trying to say you're jealous of Ken's attentions to me?" Morgan 
asked, stopping in her tracks. Her large hand impacted Thib on the chest when he 
didn't halt behind her in time. "Aww, I didn't know you had a thing for redheads.."
she cooed. Then she got sour, flipping to the other side of Morgan Wainwright's
emotional coin. "We're not blond enough.." Then she walked away swiftly, leaving 
him alone and entirely confused.

A door opened on the side of the lodge and Trap Applegate, Thib's fellow paramedic
deputy partner came outside. "Hi Thib.. I heard you had an exciting evening just now."

"You don't know the half of it.." grumbled Dwayne grimly, still staring daggers at
Morgan's retreating back, and radiating confusion. ::Am I attracted to Morgan
romantically?:: he mentally asked himself. ::Holy hanna!:: he quailed. ::Where did
that come from?:: And he started to gape in shock.

Theodore Roosevelt "Trap" Applegate the Third's head shifted back and forth 
from the expression on Thib's face and Morgan's distant, but still sharp body 
language.  "Don't tell me, you two were ripping your hair out about the impossibly 
vast differences between deputy pilots and paramedics again.."

Thib's happy day just continued to get more confusing and odd. "That among other 
things,.. um.." and he blushed. He ducked quickly so Trap couldn't see his coloring
in the darkness.

Trap elbowed his younger partner and guessed it all wrong. "Keep hugging 
those palm trees. You'll get there yet." Then he dropped a bombshell. "In fact, we
all just might eventually."

That got Thib's attention. "Whaa-, huh?" he double taked.

"You heard me right." beamed Trap, bouncing on his uniform boots. "I wanted to
be the first one to tell you. Paul Carnes and Dr. Almstedt have talked with a Dr.
Kelly Brackett in the Los Angeles area..." he led on.  His grin only got bigger
when he saw the dreamy stars returning to Thib's troubled eyes. "..and he's
all for not only a sheriff's team, but ours to relocate to his area to start up a new
division with their California Highway Patrol Department."

"No kidding?" Thib drooled, his toothy grin suddenly fully rekindled.

"No kidding.. Read this.." Applegate said, handing Dwayne the letter he had just
found in his mail box's in slot.

Dwayne practically tore it away from his hand, scanning the document eagerly.
He gasped in breathless excitement. "...*squeak*.. Do you know what this means?"
Thibideaux gaped.

Trap blinked matter of factly, frank and smug. "Yeah. It means that you get to live your 
dream of California beaches and California babes and I get to learn another side of 
my law enforcement career." he confided happily, smacking his partner on the chest 
with the folder he was carrying. "Along with learning a different kind of paramedicine."

"And we won't freeze any more." Thib squeaked again, still dumbstruck.

"That's a matter of opinion, my fine straw haired pipe dreamer. I happen to like snow."
Applegate sniffed, rubbing his feathered dark brown hair on the back of his head.
He lifted his head. "Speaking of which. Do you smell that bite on the wind?" he said, 
sucking in the frigid night air through his nose. "A snowstorm's coming in off the ocean."

But Thib was oblivious, his Morgan attraction dilemma completely forgotten. 
"I don't smell anything.... All I see is...."

"...sunshine......" Trap interrupted. Giggling, Trap took Thib by the shoulders to 
turn him around. "Yeah, I know. Come on, let's go check the gear in the rescue 
jeep before we start our next thirty six hour patrol around all the hunter tag camps."

--------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
 
Photo:   Deputy Rangers Morgan Wainwright and Dwayne Thibideaux
              from the 1970s TV series 240 Robert. 

Photo:   Thib close.

Photo:   Morgan close. 

Photo:   Deputy Paramedic Theodore Roosevelt "Trap" Applegate III
              from the 240 Robert TV show.

Photo:   Thib by a sheriff's paramedic jeep.

Photo:   A law enforcement ranger's lodge in the woods.

**************************************************
From:  patti k (pattik1@hotmail.com)  
Sent: Sun 1/04/09 3:47 AM 
Subject: Winter Physics...

The morning was absolutely beautiful. The air was still, a perfect
setting for getting a solid homecooked breakfast ready in the great, 
wild outdoors.

Birds were singing happily in the fog hanging over the valley.

The sleeping tent flap at deer camp flopped open the moment 
the first light of the sun touched its smoky white canvas's surface. 

But the gang arose groaning, cold, miserable. 

Still cocooned in their sleeping bags, they frog hopped inside of them, 
making a groggy beeline for the wood stack to bolster up the dim but still 
glowing remnants of the campfire.

As one, unspoken, they each tossed logs onto the fire with 
gusto, very eager to banish their violent, waking morning shivers with
high, roaring flames.
 
Sudden sparks billowed up wildly out of control from the impacts. 
They had forgotten that colder air was richer in oxygen, providing
for longer ember life at night.

The gang was jolted awake by the urgent need to stamp 
every one of them out before the sputtering sparks fully caught 
in the dry grass beyond the sand pit.

The frosty dawn rang with choice thoughts on the joys of the new day.

"Ow! Man, watch where you're putting your feet!" muttered
Gage crankily as someone trod on one of his boots while trying to 
extinguish a chunk of burning bark.  

"Cork it, Gage. Just keep stomping." Hank hollered. "Quick! There's 
another hot one to your left...!"

Johnny whirled, searching fast.

"No your OTHER left!!" Marco worried, blowing on his hands to warm 
them as he danced in his long underwear and hiking boots to beat down 
more drifting sparks landing on the ground.

Gage coughed, and winced.
"Could you all just... stay a little quieter?!  My head still hurts from that mule 
kicking me." Johnny hissed, stomping fast as he cushioned his head from the
vibrations with both hands.

"She didn't kick you, Gage. She nudged you outta the way." Stoker
groused, stamping as hard as the rest of them. 

Hank wasn't listening. He was analyzing. "Geez, Louise. How can a thirty 
degree temperature drop make fire more resistant?"

Stoker answered confidently. "Because of density. There's 2% more
oxygen here per cubit foot than back at home. It's far colder." A spark 
drifted down onto his hair and caught it on fire. "AhhHH!!" Stoker panicked, 
sweeping fast hands through his hair to snuff it out.  

Marco tossed a pot full of icy drinking water on him to smother 
out Mike's blaze.

Dripping, Stoker screeched. "Hey! That's-- BBbbbbbrrrrrr-rrrr..." Mike 
shivered in his newly soaked clothes.

"Get changed fast." Gage recommended. "Or you're gonna--"

Mike instantly disappeared back inside his abandoned sleeping bag so 
he could strip down to the skin to dry off. Roy hastily tossed
him a bundle of fresh clothes from the tent. 

"That better not be my best shirt.." Chet complained, his eyes never
leaving the ground where he was stamping.

"It's not." said DeSoto. "It's mine." 

"Sorry, Roy." apologized Stoker.

"No problem." Roy replied.

"Thanks a lot, pal." Stoker glared at Marco from his bag where he
was lying on the ground, wriggling.

"Any time.." Lopez said, grumpy. "Better wet than charcoal, don't you think?"

"Hey, good idea." Hank sputtered, suddenly thinking without his usual coffee.
Stanley snapped out another order. "Everybody grab our empty coffee cans
and run to the creek. We're gonna douse every single hotspot. The right way!" 
he shouted.

"Before breakfast?" Kelly peeped.

"Duh..." Hank roared, pointing angrily to the stream as he thunked an
empty can into Chet's stomach.

"Ow.. watch the solar plexus." Kelly griped.

"Just go." Stanley spat.

A few water trips later, most of the burning, escaped embers were nearly out.

Then DeSoto gasped loudly. That halted everybody in their tracks. They turned 
to him, all eyes. The paramedic pointed, his hand shaking with the cold.
"Is that really snow over there?!" squinted Roy in horror, gaping at an open 
spot in the woods.

The group slowly took in the icy, unfamiliar sight with mixed reactions.

Chet was the first to break out of it.  He just grinned. "Yep...." he said as he
watched Stoker now struggling to get his shirt on over his still damp hair and arms.
Kelly scratched his head thoughtfully. "Say, that gives me a terrific idea.." 
The curly haired fireman jogged over to the rope tying off the tree hung 
deer meat net and grabbed onto it with both hands. "I know how we can put 
the rest of these sparks out  in about two seconds. Watch.."

Cap shouted, "No, don't do th--!!" But he was too late.

With a gleeful jerk on the deer net line, Kelly sent down a large avalanche 
of tree trapped snow right down on top of them all in a noisy shower of 
heavy clumps.

It had the effect intended. The wafting embers in the air and on the grass 
were extinguished.

But so was their much hoped for flaming campfire. It disappeared in a huge 
volcanic eruption of steam, utterly and irrevocably smothered by melting
ice.

The others gaped in horror at the fire pit, now drowning in an ashy lake.

"Oops.." said Chet.

-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Five minutes later, six sets of teeth chattered loudly as the gang 
sat crunched all together in the rover's front cab section. They had the 
heater on full blast at the highest setting as they sat tightly huddled under 
a pile of blankets.

Cap still had snow dripping off of his head. "Okay, we're fine now.
Nothing that a little gasoline engine won't cure in a few minutes."

"Try a f-few days, Cap." Gage shivered miserably, sarcastic. 

"Don't be f-funny." Stanley snapped.

"Well, HE was t-trying to b-be.." Johnny protested, pointing at Chet,
sandwiched in next to him.

"No, he w-wasn't." said Hank. "He solved our problem. I-Intelligently."

"Thank you, C-Cap." Kelly said.

Hank dipped his head graciously, dumping more soggy wet snow
onto Chet's lap.

"AhHH!" Kelly jerked, swiping the half frozen stuff off of sensitive
areas. "Watch all the r-runoff, man. That's c-cold.."

"You finally n-noticed?" said Lopez, still ticked off. The side of his
face was squashed against a breath foggy window from an elbow
crowding him in a cheek.

Cap poised a question, hugging his soggy, steaming knees to avoid
poking the others. "Think they spotted that?"  He meant
the ranger fire spotters stationed at the main lodge's watch tower.

"No. Not enough smoke. It's still too foggy in our valley."
Stoker said.

"Let's hope so." Hank said fervently.

Stoker started laughing. "How's this for g-getting close to nature, huh?
I think my butt's frozen to the seat." He chortled. 

His sense of the ridiculous soon got the others just as infected
and soon they were all warm with mirth as the blower's heat finally
sank into their bones.

Two hours later, the six of them piled out of the jeep gratefully.
They were warm, dry and red faced with heat, but re-determined
to start their day again. The right way this time.

"Say, there, Chet." Hank said, taking Kelly in with a friendly arm over
a shoulder. "You wouldn't happen to have any guidebooks on winter
camping tricks, would you?"

"I do. And I promise you this one's thoroughly up to date." Kelly
told him.
 
---------------------------------------------------------------

Photo:  Close up of an ember glowing campfire ring.

Photo:  Roy looking up, stunned, with a gray background.

Photo:  A winter river valley scene, out in the open.

Photo:  Cap and Stoker, looking dismayed, tired in sweats.

Photo:   A tent and campfire newly dumped on with snow.

Photo:   The gang holed up inside Johnny's Rover.

Photo:  Cap looking concerned and thoughtful, in closeup.

***************************************************
From:  patti k (pattik1@hotmail.com)  
Sent: Tue 1/06/09 1:13 PM 
Subject: Like Loves Like.. 

Joey Collins followed Park Ranger Pilot Ken Baxter
like an eager puppy. "Are we really going to fly up high
into the sky in that..?!" the boy shouted excitedly.

He pointed to the red and white EC-145 that was running
rotors hot in the clearing before them while hanging
onto his navy cap he was wearing tightly with both hands so 
the ground snow blowing around them from the props wash 
didn't tear it off. "...For real?"

"Yessiree." said Baxter, smiling broadly. His dimples
smiled, too, accentuating his bushy moustache and friendly eyes.
"I got a copy of your grandma's consent form right here." he said,
patting his pocket. "Captain Carnes made all the arrangements.
Which, by the way... I saw you studying that map of ours in the lodge
oh so thoroughly." he winked. "Just where do you want to go to first, 
young man? We've enough fuel for a two hour flight and we'll only
diverge if something happens and one of the rangers on the ground
needs us for some kind of delivery task."

"You mean like rescues and stuff?" Joey asked, diving off a rock
and landing in a big pile of fall leaves at the edge of the landing square.

"Not always, but could be. When that happens, I want you to stay belted
right there in the co-pilot's seat with your communications helmet and
seat belt on real tight."

"I promise." Joey told him, impatiently brushing leaf bits from his face,
hair and jacket. "Can we go up to the highest place you know of?"

"It's a go. Remember to always keep your head down
like this as we get real close in. The blades are dangerous and can 
bounce in the wind even though they're turning full out. That's it. Good ducking.
Ready? If so, then hop on up. Let's get you settled in." Baxter said, opening 
the glass bubble door on the side of the chopper. "Next I want you to put 
this on." he said, handing Joey a mini version of a white flight helmet he 
had pulled out of the chopper's cargo hold. "Here." Ken shouted, reaching 
out with it to the blond haired boy.

Joey didn't take it.
"But what about my hat? This was Dad's cap. I- I don't like to take it off." Joey  
said firmly, when Ken tried handed him the all enclosing helmet with its single 
radio wire port again.

"You mean you wear that cap even when you take a bubble bath?"
Ken asked him lightly, chuckling gently as he let go of the door. It shut.
The cool wind tousled his wavy brown hair around sparkling blue eyes.

"No, I don't." Collins shouted shyly.

"Well, then. I'm sure your Dad would have understood the special 
occasion this is, son. You're about to go flying off in a rescue helicopter
with a real live park ranger pilot. Doesn't that amount to something? 
I used to be Navy in the old days. Just served in Nam, too." he said, 
tapping the brim of Joey's U.S.S. Intrepid cap affectionately. Then he
opened the curving door of the chopper's cockpit again and began fussing
with the second seat to get it low enough so Joey's feet could touch
the transparent floor. "It'd be no disgrace at all trying out new things in his
honor, son."

"Well,..... okay, Mr. Baxter. But I'm not letting go of it. Not for an instant." 
Joey said with some stress that Ken noticed. Joey climbed into the seat 
Ken hefted him up to, almost reluctantly, hanging onto the baseball cap
for dear life. He still didn't take it off.

"You ain't nervous about flying now, are ya?" Ken said as he buckled up
Joey's four point crossed seat belt in around his fur lined parka. "I know
a pair of ranger gals, a doctor and a paramedic, who are. They're
deathly afraid of it. And of me, too, I think. For no good reason." he joked.

Joey scoffed. "I met those two. Joanne and Terri. They're okay for girls.
And no, I'm not scared. I love helicopters. And ships. Dad used to tell me about 
them all the time." the Collins boy insisted, still not smiling. "I know exactly 
what bird this is. She's an EC-145 with a clam shell back loader and she can
get up to 130 mph, even in a headwind.." declared Joey. "And turn on
a dime in the air if she wants to."

Ken rubbed his moustache with amusement.
"Land sakes. You sure know your stuff, Joey. Glad to have you aboard." he
saluted him cheerfully. "Here. Tell you what. You put this helmet on 
whenever you feel like it. I won't rush ya. I promise I won't take off until you're 
ready."

"I don't know.." Joey said, his face beginning to pinch in its old, familiar pain
as he ran his hands over the helmet's lightly debris pocked surface.

Baxter just sighed and shut and locked Joey's door firmly. Then he moved
over to the other side of the chopper around the front and got into the pilot's 
seat. Once both doors were shut, the roaring power of the chopper eased into 
a muted, steady buzz.

Ken touched Joey's shoulder. "It's all right. I understand. How about tucking your 
baseball cap between your knees? You can do that real tight. And you'll be 
able to hang onto it with both hands while we talk, too, because the mic keys 
up differently than a ground radio's. You see that?" Ken asked, pointing to a 
silver button embedded in the middle of the floor on the co-pilot's side.
It was the only solid metal plate embedded in the glass bubble arching under 
Joey's feet. 

"Oh, that's the foot controlled talk toggle." Collins said excitedly. "And that's the 
altimeter and that's our fuel level gauge and that's the velocity monitor.. and.."
he said pointing to switches and indicators all over the chopper's flight
control panel that stretched between them. "..those others are all really cool!"

"Quite right." said, Ken, sliding into his own helmet smoothly. "Hmmmm. Looks 
like I'm going to have a mighty fine ace co-pilot flying with me. Welcome
aboard, Joey." he said, reaching over to shake Joey's hand. "Glad you're 
joining our team this week. It should be a real adventure. It always is."

Joey slid out of his father's cap and into his helmet quickly. "I'm ready for some."

"Good boy." Ken grinned. Then he toggled his radio trigger. "Ranger Tower,
this is Bluebird Five. We've two souls on board, lifting off for a civilian tour. We'll 
be staying within the boundaries of the park with no touchdowns. I am still available
for normal business. My transponder is on." he said, plugging the communications
cable into the side of Joey's helmet.

##Copy, Bluebird Five. Two souls on board. Lift-off at 12:44. Sistercraft 240 Robert
Air, is on the ground at this time. Your immediate airspace, is clear.##

"10-4, Ranger Tower." Baxter replied.

##Current weather. Clear skies. Wind zero nine zero at five gusts to one five.##
said the dispatcher at the lodge.

"Copy that. Much appreciated. Bluebird Five, out. Okay, partner.. let's get this show 
on the road." Ken told Joey. Then the boy and pilot took their bird into the frigid air 
gleefully.
 
--------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
 
Photo: Ken Baxter, ranger pilot wearing a basecap cap.

Photo: Joey Collins, looking pensive, wearing a navy cap.

Photo:  A happy boy diving into a big pile of leaves.

Photo:  A chopper resting on a high steep snow covered
             mountain peak.
 
**************************************************
From:  patti k (pattik1@hotmail.com)  
Sent: Mon 2/09/09 1:29 PM 
Subject: Popsicle

"Guess what I figured out?" Chet said to the gang at large.

It was noon time and the morning's frigid snow bath was just
a dim memory, fading fast.

"What's that?" Mike Stoker asked finally, when no one else replied
as they relaxed or cooked or played again around camp.

"I like being warm, that's what." Kelly told him, half serious. "And I'm really
glad the sun decided to cooperate with us and kick out the same heat
we had yesterday." he said, burying the last traces of snow he still
found in the shadows under his lawnchair with a restless hiking boot.
"What's the temperature at now, Roy?"

Roy replied, no longer cocooned inside of his plaid winter jacket and
sleeping bag. "55 °F  and rising." he said, peering at the barometer box 
duct taped to the picnic table where he sat. "Ah, almost feels like I'm home 
again..." he said, cradling the device with a protective hand.

Marco chuckled. "That's if you close your eyes and picture palm trees.."

Stoker smirked. "Have you been nesting near that thing since we got 
here, Roy? I thought we were supposed to get away from technology
and just get back to nature this weekend."

DeSoto blinked at him matter of factly, contented eyed. 
"I like to keep myself well informed when I'm in new places. Weather 
wise angle included."

Hank rubbed his nose. "Why torture yourself? You already know the
rest of the country is automatically gonna be colder than home is."

"Yeah, I know. I know." DeSoto insisted defensively. "But old habits die
hard. I remember how cold I got on that d*m*d ferry in Seattle last
year going to that convention and ever since then, I like to be prepared."

Gage regarded him ruefully. "You were underdressed. I told you turtle 
necks weren't enough. But those fire girls were sure good company. 
I never even felt that chill."

DeSoto started grinning, but for a different reason. "And neither did that 
newborn calf. He was actually kind of cute once we got him dried off. And 
I still can't believe a seven year old barn kid taught me how to dress 
properly in winter weather once his cow had finished giving birth."

"Not so unusual, if you ask me." said Gage. "Farmers and ranchers are
the best weathermen around." he declared from his tipped chaise
lounge, its backrest supported on a tree.  

Chet rose to the bait, aiming a coffee mug warmed finger in Johnny's
direction. "Okay, smarty pants. You're a rancher. Predict our
weather for the rest of the day..." Kelly challenged.

Johnny narrowed his eyes matter of factly. Then he peered up into the
sky, scanning it thoughtfully. His eyes drifted shut and he sucked in a huge
breath of air slowly before blowing it back out again. Then he opened his
shirt to let the air in a little closer to his skin.

The others waited with unveiled amusement at his antics.

Gage finally spoke, keeping his eyes closed loosely.
"Snowstorm's blown itself out over the ocean. Feel it weakening over there?"
he announced, gesturing at the last patch of dark sky to their east mysteriously
while still blind. "Next, a wind's gonna pick up inland and get a little gusty." 

On cue, the fall colored trees began to sway for the first time, softly rustling, with 
growing energy. Johnny smiled. "And it'll be luke warm all day right where it is now. 
That heavy fog down valley's gonna stay with us in the low spots. Pressure's 
rising fast, but not fast enough to dispel it."

"What is it?" Chet asked, scoffing in doubt.

"28.9 to 29.1 millimeters mercury or so.." Gage told him, not opening 
his eyes. "With relative humidity in the eighties."

Roy almost fell out of the chair when he leaned back to confirm that
check on the barometer unit near him. He blinked in surprise, gaping
at his partner with a question half formed on his lips.

"My neck's beginning to creak when I move it." Johnny replied to Roy's 
unspoken 'how did you do that?' reaction. "Only does that when the
weather's turning fair while still wet."

Chet laughed. "That's how you know?"

Gage dropped his poised analyzing pretense and glared actively at Chet. 
"Yeah, that's part of how I know. If you guys'd just stay quiet every now and
then to reach out with your senses and listen to what your body's telling you, 
you'd be able to predict the weather, too. It's nothing special. Pay attention 
to your surroundings while letting go of a few of them when we're back
home once or twice and you'll see what I'm talking about."

Kelly waggled his eyebrows. "I don't think I want to do that. I might get
mugged on my front porch."

The gang laughed, recalling the neighborhood Chet hailed from in east L.A.

There was a pregnant pause when both Hank and Kelly eyed up
the still simmering coffee pot on the fire grill at the same time. Ferally.

Suddenly, both their hands shot out for its handle. Cap's longer arm won out 
over Irish speed and he toasted Chet triumphantly with it high into the air. 
"Still too slow." he crowed. Then he poured out the last dregs into his stone 
pottery mug and clanked the empty pot back down again. "Ahhh," he sipped in
satisfaction. "Your turn to get more water." Stanley announced as was his
right as the winner. "The river's that way." he said, pointing into the fog.

Chet scoffed a gesture and picked up the coffee pot, hugging it close
to his chest for its radiant warmth and meager comfort. "It's still cold down 
there." he complained.

"Why so it is. Huh, imagine that. Guess you're gonna haveta... just bundle up 
there, pal." Hank said, still smiling broadly.

The others tittered. 

Stoker chortled. "Rules of the coffee game.." Mike teased. "Last man out rebrews 
the pot. You're going."

"All right, all right. Don't rush me. Geez.." Kelly said, zipping up his jacket to the
chin. He eyed up the woods unenthusiastically.

"Hurry up, I'm getting thirsty here. I might burn the waffles for being so
distracted." said Marco, licking his lips, through the fire smoke. He was half serious.

"Okay, I'm off. I'm gone.." Chet whined back, trudging slowly for the tent. He reached 
down for the silver pail.

"Not the baby bucket. The five gallon collapsible." Hank ordered. "Pump's in the red sack."

"Aw, Cap. That'll take forever!" Chet complained loudly. 

"Not if you're fast about it. Now shoo."

Kelly gave up his protesting and picked up the crumpled cube and hand pump satchel.
As he tramped off into the trees he pulled on his winter gloves, and both hoods of his
jacket, grumbling.

The fog swallowed him up. 

Chet found the river by sound and was grateful the heavy mist had lifted over the water. 
He crouched down to set up and string the pump tubing into the five gallon jug's port.

He shivered and glanced downstream as he cranked the wheel. Icy water began to fill
the container. He saw scour marks on the banks from the high water that must have
been there a scant hour ago from the effects of the snow storm of the night before.

He looked upstream, and startled.  Barely visible in the glowing fog, a 
partially unclothed man lay face up in the water next to the remnants of a 
shattered, brightly colored water kayak. His helmet and life vest, were missing.

Kelly shot to his feet and began to splash over to him quickly, blowing triple blasts on 
a hiker's distress whistle that he snatched out from a lanyard around his neck in
an alert to the others.

Seconds later, Chet heard the noisy snapping cracks of breaking branches and 
the hiss of undergrowth being shoved aside hastily as the gang came running.

"Chet?!" came Hank's worried shout. "We're here. What's happening? We got
the radio!"

"Guys! On the double.. There's a man down in the water!!" Kelly yelled back urgently
still stumbling over the submersed rocks he couldn't see in the shallow, fast flowing 
current, trying to hurry. "Face up but not moving, forty feet upstream of me!"

"In how deep?" Hank roared, still invisible to Chet.

"Way under a foot! He's snagged on a rock."

He heard an unseen Marco reply. "I'll get us gear!" 

Kelly dimly saw Gage and Roy adjust their flight to the river according to his directions.
But they were forced to slow their bounding as they reached the still thick, blanketing
fog hanging over the water. 

Chet shouted again as he tried to find foot stones to use by boot toe's feel under
the water. "There's a fallen birch log across the water, right where he is. See it?
His feet are on top of it. The air's real clear here down low."

A splash announced somebody's arrival the moment Chet reached the
kayaker. It was Roy.  "We got him!" said DeSoto as Chet and he crouched 
swiftly over the man's head, on the submersed sandbar.

Kelly moulded his fingers for a jaw thrust and opened the man's mouth
under Roy's ear. The man's skin had stiffened and was a pale white blue
in the fog filtered sunlight. "Is he breathing?" Kelly asked him.

---------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Photo:  A shallow river gorge in autumn.

Photo:  A shirtless man lying face up in a stream bed.

Photo:  Chet Kelly in camping gear spotting something.

Photo:  Roy and Johnny outside in thick fog looking intently.

Photo:  A jaw thrust airway move being performed on an unconscious man.

Photo:   Roy looking down, treating someone.

Photo: Gage examining a victim intently, worried.

Photo: Chet Kelly looked tense with lowered eyes, outside.

**************************************************
Subject: Popsicle Wrap
From:  patti k (pattik1@hotmail.com)  
Sent: Wed 2/11/09 2:53 AM 
 
"I can't tell that yet." DeSoto replied.  "But keep him open for now. Let me 
check a few more things first." he said, over the noise of the flowing water.

"But.."

"Chet, he may be in a diving reflex. He doesn't need any more oxygen for 
a while if his heart's still beating.  But I have to know that second fact for sure 
before we start messing with him in any way."

Hank, Johnny and Stoker jumped into the shallows and joined them swiftly.

Stanley began to radio out from where he stood upstream as a safety, making 
sure river debris and pieces of the large kayak wasn't going to barrel in on the 
current to their position. "Marker 70 to Appalachian Central. Mayday. Mayday.."

"Where're you at?" Gage asked Roy in a check list.

"Just starting the primary." DeSoto replied quickly. He didn't miss the 
distressed look on Kelly's face. Reaching down, DeSoto pulled one of the 
man's arms away from where it was curled in its fetal position against his 
chest, gently straightening it out to his side. It immediately curled back 
again, jelly slow. "He's still alive, Chet. Dead muscles can't contract."

Kelly grabbed for the man's wrist, with a free hand, feeling for a pulse. "I 
don't feel anything."

"That's because of vasoconstriction in his arms and legs." Roy said, next 
groping for a careful carotid pulse. "Everything's severely slowed down. 
He could be breathing only once every 30 seconds, because with this 
water chilling him, his body doesn't need to any faster." He frowned in 
concentration, as he probed for the artery. "I still can't find one, Johnny."

Chet let Mike take over his jaw airway hold and he moved over to the 
kayaker's bare chest, framing his hands into a CPR position. Gage 
stopped him physically. "Wait, don't do anything yet. We're not through 
assessing him."

Johnny switched to feeling at the pulse point on the other side of the
man's neck as Roy bent over to place a hasty ear on the man's ribcage.

"Shouldn't we get him out of the water?" Kelly asked, moving his ansing 
hands away from the man's chest. He blew on his soaked icy fingers to 
warm them as he studied the man's open, staring, dull eyes.

"That's next once Marco brings sleeping bags. He has to stay horizontal. 
All this water flowing around him's acting like mast trousers. If we rush 
things too fast, his pressure will drop. He might be injured, too. Just 
look at his accident mechanism here." Gage said, throwing a head 
up at the splintered remains of the kayak. "We move him only the 
absolute minimum necessary once we figure out how to fashion him 
good C-spine stabilization."

Hank turned up the gain on their park hunter's radio. "This is Marker 70, 
Mayday!" Then he released the button. "This ravine's in a dead zone. 
I'm going up higher, back to camp. Mike as soon as you get him secured 
airway wise, take over my spot as safety if you can. I'll be back in three 
minutes."

"Right, Cap." Stoker replied.

Lopez came hurrying back, heavily laden with a first aid bag and as 
many sleeping bags as he could drag, along with all of their clothes and 
jackets. "I filled one up with rocks heated from the fire.." he gasped, laying 
out that one with a silver mylar space blanket, unfolded, open and ready. 
He tossed Mike the right sized Berman tube.

Stoker caught it to use. Soon he lifted his head. "He took in a gasp just 
now. A small one. Right when I hooked in the oral airway."

Gage and DeSoto just nodded from where they were frozen in place, 
monitoring the man intently. Then they both jerked excitedly. "There! We 
definitely got something." Johnny shouted. "I just felt a few beats."

"Yeah, and I heard a definite arrythmia." Roy agreed, smiling. He rose 
quickly up onto his feet and began to organize a lifting grip. "He's about two 
beats a minute here."

Kelly gaped. "Is that enough?"

Johnny waggled his head at Chet. "Even though his heart is beating very 
slowly, it is filling completely and distributing blood fairly effectively if we 
can hear it and feel it like this. You remember that external cardiac 
compressions only are 20-30% effective? His blood's flowing only 
around his core with far decreased demands right now. He can stay viable 
and satisfy his circulatory needs with only those 2-3 beats per minute just 
fine. Good thing we didn't start CPR. That would have pushed cold, acidotic 
blood into his still beating heart and arrested it. On your findings, Mike, get 
a CPR mask. Start donating your heat. We're gonna prevent all respiratory 
heat loss and from everywhere else from here on out. Time your ventilations 
with his when you can detect them and then add a few more of your own, at 
6-12 times a minute. We need to offer him more oxygen now if we're going 
to raise his metabolic rate by moving him. Adding warm, moist air to his lungs 
will stimulate his brain stem activity and even out his heart rate."

"Okay." Stoker said, looking up from the mask he had covered with a ski glove
to insulate his blown in breaths' heat from the cold air. "He's not bubbling here.
There's no edema yet."

"Let's keep it that way." said Gage, thinking to himself as he worked to
ease the man's legs gently back down to level off the log.

Kelly asked. "What the game plan?"

"Shouldn't we work a little faster?" Marco said along with Chet.

DeSoto looked up from where he was feeling the man's spine for
problems. "Guys, we're not going to try and rewarm him out here in the 
woods. We don't have the proper equipment to do that safely. We want 
to just stabilize his core temperature and prevent any further heat loss." 
Roy explained. "Johnny, nothing's obviously off on his spinal column."

Gage coughed eagerly. "Then a manual move's warranted if we're careful."

"So let's get him out of here then." said Chet urgently, worried.
 
Roy remained calm and collected. "Marco, get ready to cut off his clothes. 
We have to dry him off completely once we get him up to you." DeSoto 
shouted.

"I'm set. Also, there are plenty of branches and sticks up here we can 
use to build a travois." Lopez reported.

Johnny smiled.
"Good going. We needed some way to transfer him to a landing zone without 
jarring him alot. His heart's sensitive to physical disturbances right now.  He's 
still at a high risk for going into V-fib at the slightest physical shock. We are 
going to take a ton of time every step of the way to mimimize that."
Gage said, feeling up and down the man's limbs for fractures and injuries.
"That's odd, Roy. He seems clear here, too. No blood or deformities."

"Maybe he collapsed just from the cold." Chet hoped. "He could have 
been wandering around in last night's storm for a while, confused from his 
hypothermia."

"That's probably what happened to him. Look,.." Marco said. "I found his 
helmet in the brush." he said, holding up a red one that had the same serial
number as the kayak on it. It was whole and uncracked.

DeSoto shook his head in negation.
"We're still assuming broken back/broken neck.  Get down here with us. He's
set to move. Kelly, keep tabs on his vitals. Mike, you've got his head so you're 
coordinating all of us. We'll level up on your count." Roy said.

Cap came back moments later from a dead run. "I got out a transmission. 
They're sending us a chopper and a paramedic land unit. ETA ten minutes."

"Good news..  We've a pulse and breathing, Cap." Chet said, filling him in.

"Terrific. Knew he wasn't gone yet. His eyes are still reacting to sunlight." and 
Hank took his place in the inches deep water to help with their lift and carry.

Chet Kelly looked down and saw that it was true.

-------------------------------------------------------------------

Photo:  A man on his back in the water.

Photo:  Bare feet submerged in a flowing streambed.

Photo: Captain Stanley looking down.

Animation:  An animated gif of a fireman doing a head
                    to toe assessment on an unconscious patient.

Photo:  A CPR pocket mask in place over a face.

Animation: A stream flowing over rocks in close up.

Photo:   Roy in a yellow shirt looking serious and worried.
 
**************************************************
Subject: Fate Squared.
Date: Fri Feb 13, 2009 10:43 am 
From: patti k <pattik1@hotmail.com>

The gang slowly and smoothly carried the man spine straight, up the river bank.
 
They rounded the small slope that led over to the insulating sheet lying on the 
dried grass in full warm sunlight and set him down gently. Stoker knelt once 
more to continue his breathing support while the others began applying ski cap 
after ski cap onto the kayaker's head.
 
Swiftly, Marco began stripping away the man's water ice frozen clothing while
Cap and the paramedics dried him off thoroughly with a few sweaters.
 
"Definite inspiratory efforts here. Still just a couple a minute." Mike reported
as he listened and watched the man's chest and mouth in between ventilations.
 
"Pulse's ten." said Chet. "It's getting more erratic, guys."
 
DeSoto frowned, checking the man's eyes.
"His pupils are starting to dilate. Bundle up, Mike." Roy told him. "Keep 
your temperature really elevated by zipping up your jacket and hood. We'll 
set you on oxygen to give right back to him. He's running short on it now..." 
he said, thinking hard about treatment. "Chet?"
 
"I heard." Kelly replied, snatching for their jump bag. "Cannula on two liters, 
right?"
 
"Yeah." said Johnny.
 
"Make it four. It won't be too irritating for me right away." Stoker said.
 
Gage nodded in agreement. "Okay, the more the merrier."
 
Chet didn't disturb Mike's position working with the insulated pocket mask 
as he got Stoker going on their D tank. He fitted the prongs around Mike's
face and chin, hooking the tubing over his ears and out of the way over 
his shoulder. "If you think you're getting colder in the slightest, I'll take over. 
I'm sweating." he told Mike.
 
"I'll let you know when." said Stoker. 
 
Cap issued an order. "Marco, smoke up our campfire some more and 
have a mirror set for signalling. I'll lay out these wet clothes and pieces of
the kayak onto the snow so the pilot can locate us easier."
 
"Right, Cap." Lopez said, running up the hill towards their deer camp.
 
Again, Roy was puzzled over their patient. "Johnny, he still doesn't appear 
to be grossly injured." he said as he and Johnny carefully checked again for 
problems. "There's not a mark on him anywhere obvious that I can
see."
 
"I agree." said Johnny, beginning to tuck the sheet around the man
after placing sock wrapped hot stones at the sides of his neck, groin
and armpits. "Just the same, I'll rig him up a C-collar from rolled clothes. 
Once he's shelled up snug, we can find something flat to strap him onto for a 
backboard."
 
"How about a backpack rack?" suggested Stoker.
 
"That'll work." Gage decided. "Great idea." Then he turned his
attention to Roy. "Are you thinking what I'm thinking?"
 
"Umm hmm.." replied Roy. "He's got severe hypothermia for sure. There's 
active cold diuresis setting in." Roy concluded.
 
"How much do you think he's losing?" Hank asked them.
 
"Quite a bit of fluid, Cap. Now I'm kicking myself for not bringing a few I.V.s
along, too."  Gage grumbled as he and Roy started to quickly zip up the layers 
of sleeping bags around the kayaker that Marco had set up for them.

"Smoke's set and noticable." Lopez said, pointing up into the sky as he
returned.

The others followed his gaze and nodded. "Good going, pal." said Hank.

"And I brought some rope from the rover so we can build that travois." Lopez 
said. "Our belts aren't going to be enough."

"Thanks.." said Chet, starting in on that task with his hunting knife and
a small axe.
 
"Maybe this guy still has a story to tell." Cap wondered and he started to go 
through their patient's discarded denim jeans pants pockets, looking for 
an I.D. or other clues. He found a key on a keychain, clearly marked with the 
park's name. "It's from the lodge's hotel." 
 
"Then we might be able to have him identified for the doctors even before
we arrive at the park hospital." Johnny said. "Call in the room number."
 
Stoker cursed, making them all look up.
 
"Problems?" Gage asked, placing his hands on the man's chest reflexively.

"Not with him. Look down there." he said, pointing down to the river from 
the high point they had found as a refuge.  "Whoever this man is, he wasn't
alone."
 
"Sh*t." Cap said, rising to his feet. "Marco you're with me. We're going to start 
a search along both banks of the river." he ordered, snatching up the radio.
 
A second kayak paddle was drifting down the current lazily among the chunks 
of ice.

Lopez and Stanley took off at a run for upstream for the spot in which they
had found the kayaker.

Gage started to bolt after them, picking up two of the three coils of rope 
that Marco had found in camp. "I'm going with you, Cap."

"Take this.." said Roy, throwing him the first aid kit. "I'll fire up a signal flare
when help arrives.."

-----------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Photo:  A kayaker going vertical inside a rapids eddy.

Photo:  A kayaker in distress, without a paddle on the water.

Photo:  Marco looking worried in a yellow shirt outside.

Photo:  Roy DeSoto in a striped shirt, scared.

**************************************************
Subject: Awakening..
From:  patti k (pattik1@hotmail.com)  
Sent: Sat 2/28/09 3:20 AM 

In Bluebird Five, Pilot Ken Baxter heard the rescue call go out
for the park's better equipped paramedic chopper. He glanced
at Joey Collins, seated in the co-pilot's seat next to him as
the dispatcher continued to give details over the scanner
channel. 

##....Appalachian Central, 240-Robert Air. Single hypothermia
victim without apparent trauma reported at Marker 70. Medically 
trained civilian personnel are at hand and rescue with treatment 
has been affected. Adult male, early thirties, kayaker. Respond
along the river on the bluff 200 feet below the deer camp.##

"Somebody's hurt down there?" asked the radio helmeted little 
boy with worry.

Ken smiled. "Yep. But don't you worry about it. We're getting
help there faster than you can spit." he said, gripping the flight
joystick a little tighter. "240's a bullet in the air when she wants
to be. And Morgan's pure ace getting to places."

Baxter heard his co-pilot Morgan Wainright respond first, followed 
by Deputy Paramedics Dwayne Thibideaux and Trap Applegate from
their ground SUV.  ##240-Robert Air, 10-4. Patching in to that
radio's comm frequency, direct.## said Morgan. ##My E.T.A. is four
minutes.##

Ken heard Trap thumb the mic from the roving sheriff's rescue jeep. 
## AP Base, we're doing the same. Copy kayaker in distress, Marker 70. 
Our E.T.A. is approximately eight minutes.##

The dispatcher back at the park headquarters acknowledged both units.
##Copy, 240-Robert. Hospital Urgent Unit has been notified. A physician 
and an RN are standing by. *Beep* Alert: Weather condition change. 
Radar is indicating winds are increasing zero nine zero at fifteen gusts to 
forty in the valley with ground bound fog.##

"Are we going, too?" Joey Collins asked fast.

"Only if we're badly needed. See?" The park ranger said, casting a hand
about the helicopter's large cockpit space." We need a lot bigger 
landing zone on account of our size. Take a look. It's all forest down 
there with few holes, except for where rocks and water are poking 
through. Marker 70's near cliffsides and a river. And their one tiny 
meadow is the only open spot for miles."

"Can we fly over and at least make sure they're okay?" Joey said
with growing worry. He minced in his seat, gripping his Navy cap
so hard, that his fingers were turning white.

Ken could see his young passenger was reliving the ghost of some kind
of painful memory. Gently, he reached over and patted his arm.
"Sorry, son.  We need to keep the skies absolutely clear for Morgan 
so she can land her bird. But I promise you, we'll keep this radio hot 
so we can listen in real hard to what's going on. Good or bad. Just like
I told your grandma. Deal?"

Joey didn't look up at Ken, but he nodded minisculely, eyes fastened
like glue to the trees weaving and bobbing beneath them. Finally, he
spoke, his voice barely above a murmur."Which way are they from here?"

"West, to your ten o'clock." Ken answered, tuning the radio to a sharper
focus on multiple autoscan.

Joey peered about, squashing his nose to the dew dropped windowed 
door on his left. A minute went by. Then he shouted. "I think I see smoke 
way over there!"

Baxter looked. "Uh. Huh. That's their signal fire. Smart men. They know
how to call in a chopper real fine. Morgan should have no trouble at all
finding that."

Next to him, Joey collapsed, limp. "Good. Cause nobody should
have to be.... hurt all alone." he whimpered suddenly.

Ken glanced over. The boy's face was deeply etched, lost once
again in the past. But he appeared that he hadn't noticed what he had 
just mumbled.

Baxter gave the boy some peace with respectful space and silence.
Inwardly, his thoughts carried on. ::Ah, so that's how it went, when
you lost your dad.:: he realized.

Ken Baxter lowered his head in sympathy as he flew, not 
disturbing Joey's new private fugue.

---------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Ranger Paul Carnes, at his desk in the lodge, sat up from his 
paperwork and turned up the volume on his scanner radio as the
call came out. He automatically switched to Marker 70's channel
to link in to any new raw communications themselves as they
came in from the campsite.

He waved Terri Blake and Joanne Almstedt over to have a listen.
Both nurse and doctor hit their pager acknowledgments for the
alert  the dispatcher had just flashed to them.

"Sounds like a bad one." Paul said to them.   

"We'll be ready." said Joanne, unbuttoning her doctor' coat.

Carnes nodded. "I have it on file that the men out there are current 
firefighters. Two of them are California paramedics."

"Great!" said Joanne brightly. "One in a row."

"State of the art training then." said Terri thoughtfully, scratching the 
taped cut on her cheek.

Paul pursed his lips. "I'm sorry to say this, but I'm afraid they're only 
going to be as good as the equipment they have with them, until
our people actually get there to help out."

That silenced the two female park rangers instantly.

------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Photo: Helicopter flying over the mountains.
 
Photo: Joey Collins looking worried out a window.

Photo:  Ken Baxter, looking concerned, closeup.

Photo:  A smoke signal, rising up from a campsite.

Photo:  Dr. Joanne Almstedt, frowning over a keyboard.

Photo: Nurse Terri Blake, frowning in worry.

Photo:  Ranger Paul Carnes, looking serious.

Animation:  An SOS automated GPS locator signaller firing.

**************************************************
Subject: Calvary Calling...
From:  patti k (pattik1@hotmail.com)  
Sent: Mon 3/02/09 1:46 PM 

Morgan Wainwright keyed up her mic as she flew her chopper at top speed. 
"240 Robert-Air to Tag 70, what's your patient's status? We are linked to two 
ground paramedics on their way to you and to our hospital's physician."

Running full tilt next to Cap and Marco, Gage took the camp radio Hank handed to him.
## 240 Robert-Air. Critical. ## Johnny reported. ##Vitals are : Pulse is ten and irregular
but effective. Respirations were depressed, now being assisted mouth to mouth with 
pure oxygen. BP's unpalpable due to vasoconstriction in the arms and legs.
Severe hypothermia has set in and there's steady excessive urinary output. We 
found no signs of frostbite.  He's been fully immobilized and we've prevented 
all further heat loss.##

##Tag 70, This is Dr. Almstedt at Appalachia. I copy vitals. Have you any fluid 
crystalloids handy?## Joanne asked as she studied Paul Carnes and Terri Baxter 
while she concentrated.

##Negative. We've no I.V.s at all.## Johnny replied.

Trap, in the rushing sheriff's rescue jeep, broke into the channel. "Tag 70, 
240 Robert Ground. We've plenty warming in the cooker." he said, eyeing up
his partner Thib, who was packing four bags of NS into their battery heated insulation 
packs. "How's his airway doing?"

## We've a working oralpharyngeal. ## said Johnny. ##But we've a new 
development. There may be a second victim out here.##

Paramedics, pilots and park rangers alike, startled and there was a long
pause of dead air on the radio.

"Where?" asked Morgan, nosing down into the final valley separating them.

##Somewhere upstream of us along the river. Another kayaker.## Gage
told them all through the channel. ##We spotted fresh debris that was his
a few minutes ago.##

"I'll attempt to locate. What's your twenty?" she asked, dipping the helicopter
skillfully down low to follow the river course.

Hank answered. ##Upstream of the smoke plume at camp, next
to a shallow cliff to the west in a beech grove. We're on the same bank, 
three hundred yards up from there.##

Morgan answered. "Watching for you. You listen for me." she said firmly.

##Will do.## said Hank.

Back at camp, Roy worked feverishly to keep their patient insulated along
every seam. Chet had taken over for Stoker respiratory heating wise and
the engineer was actively clearing out loose debris in the meadow to make
ready for a helicopter landing. Thinking fast, Mike stabbed four sticks with
tied down bright bits of clothing to mark off the combed through square of land.
He added a fifth stick in between two others to indicate the direction the wind
was blowing into the meadow. Then he hurried back to the others.

"LZ's set with a directional, guys. One hundred fifty foot square. There's no
soft spots as far as I can tell." Stoker said.

"Powerlines?" Roy asked.

"None."

DeSoto nodded. "We've done all we can for him here. I don't want to disturb
his position anymore. Could you help me keep tabs on his pulse?"

"Yeah." said Mike, crouching near the man's head to place a light set of fingers over
the man's carotid. "What about those?" Stoker asked, pointing to the log bundles
they had gathered for building a travois. 

"Forget about it. The chopper should have its own stokes ready far faster than we 
can build one." Roy replied as he felt the effectiveness of Kelly's ventilations to
the man with a hand on top of the sleeping bags. 

"Glad they're fast." Mike said, checking to make sure the oxygen supply to
Chet's cannula was still delivering.

"Me, too." said Chet, taking in another slow breath inside of his jacket to keep
his breath warmed up.

The wind began to howl in earnest as the feeble heat of the day rose, blowing
leaves and sun warmed tufts of grass around them. Then, in the distance, Roy
heard the sound of rotor blades. 

Raising his free hand, he fired off the first of their gun flares out over the river for 
Johnny and the others to see and take heed.

-------------------------------------------------------------------

Animation: 240 Robert Air and Ground hurrying to the scene.

Photo: Roy working over a patient quickly, in closeup.

Photo:  A steep river gorge with high water.

**************************************************
Subject: Gage, The Twit.
From:  patti k (pattik1@hotmail.com)  
Sent: Fri 3/06/09 12:05 AM 

Marco heard the bang of a flare gun start to echo around the river valley.
He looked up as he ran, eyeing its ruddy trail. "Cap, the others see or hear 
that ranger's chopper coming in."

Hank kept his eyes on the river, looking for pieces of kayak or clothing.
"Okay, start signalling with our mirror, let that pilot know how far up
we've searched already."

Gage lifted his radio. "Tag 70 to 240-Robert Air. Our victim party has
spotted you and is sending up signal flares."

##I see it and have them pinpointed.## Morgan replied back. ##But I'd
like to take a minute to help you find that second victim. I can guide you
in over trouble spots visually if I spot him.## she said.

Johnny paused near a boulder, catching his breath. Cap climbed up
on top of it to keep searching the river. "Two minutes. No more. Then we 
need you to transport Victim One as a top priority."

##Understood. Coming over your location now and moving on. I'll 180 
after the first minute runs out. Then I'll head back to your party's campsite.##  
Deputy Wainwright shared. ## Until then, I can cover a lot of ground for you. ##

Marco, Cap and Johnny ducked when a nimble black and white helicopter
with bilateral stretcher bubbles shot around a corner in a roar of power.
Its rungs were barely a foot over the water as it sped up the river ahead
of them, following the curves of the rapids, neatly dodging and weaving 
over them at high speed.

"Whoa, look at her go." Gage said in amazement as the chopper quickly 
disappeared upstream above the water. 

Hank and Marco smiled and they picked up the pace again, headed in the
helicopter's direction, too, along a snowdrifted sandbar.

Twenty seconds later, they received a transmission. ##240-Robert Air to 70.
I've got the second victim sighted! A male, about a 1000 feet upstream lying 
in a kayak near some rocks on your side of the river. But there's an obstacle.
There's a twenty foot waterfall between you and the height he's trapped on 
around the bend.##

Gage toggled the radio switch. "Is he accessible to us?"

Morgan circled once, sliding in closer to the falls. ##The cliffs leading to
him look climbable. They have a solid, clean vertical with plenty of handholds.##

"Is he alive?" Gage asked.

Morgan shot up the cliff and hovered as low as she could over the
kayak and man she could see floating upright in shallow water. ## His 
head's out of the water and his helmet's still on. That's all I can tell.## she 
said. ##There's no movement. No, wait! His leg just jerked.##

"Are you sure?" Johnny asked Morgan, biting his lip.

##Yes, very. He's in a calm pool. He wasn't moved by the water.
His color looks good but I'm seeing a lot of blood around his face 
and on his hands.##

"Okay, we're headed up there." Gage transmitted, tossing his rope coils 
to Cap and Marco to start tying free hitch harnesses around their waists
and pelvises. "We've basic medical gear, enough to stabilize him for
now."

##Roger that. I'll return as soon as I finish getting Victim One to the 
hospital.## she said, sliding carefully sideways, fighting strong wind 
gusts over the river.  

Soon, Wainwright hovered over the injured kayaker. She toggled her loud 
speaker. ## This is Sheriff's Department Rescue. Help's on the way.## 
she told him. But there was no noticable physical response.

Morgan, unhappy, gained altitude and looked up to the road tracing along 
the top of the new gorge. She soon spotted 240 Robert speeding by the 
area on their way to the deer camp. ##240-Robert Air to 240-Ground. Stop 
right there and mark a tree to head back to later. You're right above Victim 
Two's location near the other firefighters.##

The sheriff paramedic jeep skidded to a halt in the dust and Thib got out
with a can of bright orange trail blaze paint in a spray can. He marked
a strong arrow riverwards on the road itself and then partially up a pine tree
next to them. He waved to Morgan hovering over the river and gave her
a rapid thumbs up enthusiastically.

Trap hit his mic. ##Thanks, Morgan. We're set. Moving on to Victim One.##
he replied as his partner got back into the truck.

## I'll meet you there. ## And Morgan gained more height with a celebratory 
waggle to her partners and to Gage, Lopez and Stanley below before she 
nosed down and headed quickly downstream towards the deer camp.

---------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Stoker ran back to the meadow to guide 240-Robert Air in, showing
her the upwind direction to nose into.

Morgan landed neatly in the center of the staked out grass and got out. 
"How's he doing?" she shouted over the chopper's rotors, still running hot.

Mike replied. "Still the same. Breathing's poor. How far away are your
paramedics?"

"Less than three minutes out. I just spoke with them." she replied. "I'll go
grab a stokes." she said, pointing tailwards.

"I'll help you." replied Mike. They both ducked low as they headed back to
the chopper's equipment bay. "Do you have any more oxygen? We're almost
out." he shouted.

"Yes, in the tank rack behind the pilot's seat." she told him loudly. "Two D's
and an E. And good news.. We've found the second kayaker. He's still alive."

----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Trap and Thib raced up the road and turned sharply onto the dirt road leading
to Tag 70's hunting camp.  They parked a safe distance away from the landed,
but still running chopper. 

It was empty. 

"Looks like she's already gone down with them. A stokes is missing." said 
Dwayne, getting out of the truck and grabbing for his medbag from the back 
hatch of the rescue jeep. "I checked the Res-Q-Air. It's fully charged."

"Want the spare battery?" Applegate asked.

"Later. Let's get him started on this one first." Thib said.

Trap, pocketting the keys to the truck, grabbed the heating pack of I.V. solutions
Thib had set up into insulated sleeves along with their drug box and EKG monitor.
He followed his orange coated partner carrying the warm oxygen ventilator device 
as they ran to meet Morgan and the California firefighters closely huddled over 
their unconscious, chilled patient. Trap thumbed his hand held walkie talkie. 
"Appalachia Base, we're on scene. Stand by for an update. I got you on
speaker."

##Standing by.## replied Dr. Almstedt through the base station's telemetry
intercom. ##Ready to receive a strip.##

Roy started talking all at once as the two sheriff paramedics joined them and
began tearing into their gear. "He's still pretty ectopic. Two minutes ago, we
almost lost a carotid. Dehydration's worse." Then he noticed the Res-Q-Air heater. 
"Hey, can that thing positive pressure ventilate?"

"Yep." Applegate replied. "Through an ambu bag. We'll start using it now to free up
your friend." he grinned tightly at Chet, who still working through the pocket mask.
Trap turned to his younger partner. "Thib, after he's hooked up on EKG, could you 
get a core temp for the doc?"

"Tympanic?" the blond haired Dwayne asked.

"Sure, that's fine." Trap said. Then he turned to DeSoto. "You're one
of the California paramedics?" he asked pointing at Roy. "Sorry, I forgot
all your names."

"Yep, I'm one of them. I'm Roy, and this is Chet and Mike. My partner Johnny's 
upriver with two of my firefighter colleagues, Marco and Hank, headed for the 
second victim." replied Roy.

Mike offered a suggestion. "Got any more gear still stowed that you need?"

"Yeah." answered Thib. "In the back of the jeep. Grab the black defib
and the red battery insulation cooler sitting next to it." He grimaced
when he saw Mike take off running. "Ah, wait.. It's locked." Then he
psst'd at Trap Applegate with a couple of gimme fingers.  "Keys." he 
prompted.

Trap dug into his pocket and tossed them at Thib without looking up
from reading the notes Roy had written down for vital signs. Thib caught 
them and retossed the key set over to Stoker who hurried off to the 240 
team's rescue jeep.

Morgan propped up the shattered kayak somebody had retrieved and dug
it lengthwise and upright into the melting snow to use as a windblock. 
"There. That'll prevent the chopper's propswash from reaching him 
anymore." 

Then she eyed up Roy. "The second man looked injured. Very badly. 
I hope your people are pretty fast mountaineers."

"They are." Roy reassured her. He unzipped the kayaker's insulation 
cocoon a little for the new paramedics. Then he worked on learning
how Thib was setting up the Res-Q-Air unit, handing him the cables 
and connectors that Dwayne pointed out to him to thread through
insulation sleeves. "Reach in." 

"Thanks, Roy." nodded Applegate, shoving both arms underneath
the thick layers of sleeping bags, to listen to the kayaker's chest with 
a stethoscope's drum. "He still sounds clear. No rales. But his apical's 
getting pretty hard to find."

Thib negated that worry a second later. "That's just chest wall stiffness.
He's still got a rhythm." he announced as he flipped on the EKG's switch. 
Dwayne frowned. "Hmm, the pads aren't staying on."

Dr. Almstedt spoke up from the radio. ##Try a tincture of benzoin under
the electrodes from your wounds kit. If that doesn't work, stab three 
24 gauge needles into the skin through the pads. They'll hold then
and the signal will carry through the needles to the conductive gel.
Don't worry about a getting twelve lead. What I'm seeing here in Lead 
II's good enough.## They all heard her sigh. ## Now,.. Fellas?
Crank up the QRS amplitude to maximum. I can't see any details.##

Thib did so. 

## All right. Got it.## said Joanne. ## Profound bradycardia with 
an irregular ventricular rate of twenty. ##

"We see that here, too." Trap told the doctor. 

"His carotid's starting to match that rate." Stoker said.

##How are his pupils?## Joanne asked.

"Responsive." replied Roy to the air.

##Get him assisted on aggressive warmed, humidified oxygen. And begin
transfusing normal saline heated to 110°F infused centrally. 300-500 cc's 
rapidly, followed by 75-100 cc/hr. Use a jugular. ## Almsted ordered. 
##What's his core temp?##

"84°F." Thib replied. "Might be higher, there's a lot of mud in his ears."

## Let's assume he's at that level. Try to endotracheally intubate him. 
If he slips into V-Fib at any time, shock him three times only, then start 
and continue CPR in transit.  Avoid all cardiac medications in that event.
Those drugs will not be metabolized or cleared normally by the 
patient's liver and kidneys. If they were to be used, they would accumulate 
in his body and only become active as he warms up, possibly overdosing 
him. For now, I see pacing's not needed, his brady's probably physiologic 
in nature. It should correct itself once he's over 86°F or so. Keep
me posted. I'll be on live the whole trip in.## 

Stoker returned with the slim defibrillator and second battery bag for the 
Res-Q-Air. He set them by the three paramedics' sides.

"Here." said a voice in Kelly's ear, breaking his counting concentration.

Chet blinked at the steaming ambu bag Trap had handed him. "What?"
he mumbled in confusion at the strange jumble of mask, canvas covered
squeeze bag, and orange sleeve covered tubes in his palms. The
battery unit pump and reservoir it was attached to between
Kelly's knees and the oxygen tank began to bleep operational readiness.
"Uh, ..maybe one of you should operate this new contraption instead."

Trap grinned. "It's okay."
"Just use the bag end like normal. The rest of the warmer'll give him continuous 
hot oxygen..."  Applegate told him. "..and start thawing him slowly from the core 
on out. He'll get stronger very quickly."

"All right." Kelly said, pulling off his cannula and throwing away the CPR mask.
Stoker helped Chet begin to give ventilations to the man with the new delivery 
system, holding the warmed, misting mask in place while Chet squeezed the 
bag. The rhythm on the EKG monitor began to speed up immediately and
even out. "Wow, this thing's wild." he said in amazement. "Are we doing that?" 
he asked Trap.

"Yep." Applegate grinned. "Isn't the Canadian navy wonderful? They just
invented that lovely little warmer last year." he said, swabbing down
a place on the man's neck to try a needle stick for his I.V. around
the bundle of belted in clothes holding his head still. He got flashback
on the second try. "Yes!" he said. "Thib, hand me that heated catheter
on a flow."  

"There you go." answered Dwayne, dripping some of the steaming 
saline he had heating, out the end of the sterile luer to bleed out all the air.

Trap snapped in the life giving fluid line firmly. "Tape it down while I hold
it, Thib. Roy, can you add a Heparin flush to the port?"

"Yeah." DeSoto replied, reaching into the drug box. "You guys use five cc's?"

"Ten." Trap replied.

Stoker put on a soft cervical collar to protect the jugular I.V. when they 
were through securing and prepping it.

"Okay, now let's get that airway in.." DeSoto said, grabbing for an ET.

"I'll help with a light." Dwayne offered.

A few minutes later, Roy and Thib gave up attempts to intubate the kayaker
after two tries in between manual hyperventilations from the respiratory
warmer. 

"D*mn it, he's still too cold. All his muscles are locking down." Dwayne said 
to Roy. He leaned over the radio in frustration. "Doc, the tube keeps freezing
and breaking off at the phalange at tooth level." Thib told his boss. "We
just snapped our second one."

##Skip it then.## said Joanne over the speaker. ##Go with what you had
before with an OPA. It's not the fastest way to warm him, but us beggars can't be 
choosers. Boys, once you get him fluid loading solidly, get him the h*ll out of 
there!## Almstedt said, getting a little over-eager to fix their patient.

"We're on it." said Trap and Thib, grinning from ear to ear. "Morgan.. drag 
that stokes a little closer so we can get him into it. Sleeping bags and all. 
We've finally got in a good running line. We'll lift on three. Ready? 1-2-3, go!"
ordered Trap.

-------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Gage climbed the waterfall cliff carefully, foot by foot, as fast as he could go. 
The heavy weight of the rope tied around his waist made him glad he had shed 
his winter jacket, for the sun was baking the rocks into a lurid heat underneath his 
fingers, making his grip slick and precarious. He dug in his toes even deeper, 
guarding against his hands failing. He pressed his cheek into the limestone as
chalk and melting snow drifted down. He coughed.

"Gimme more slack!" he shouted down to Hank and Marco, who were feeding him
a rope line from the ground.  He had one bad slip of a shoe but then, he
rounded the top.

Swiftly, he tied off the end of his tether to a solid tree and he flicked the line
so it rippled down the cliff in a signal. "I'm up! You're tied off. Come on up! Here's 
a second line as a backup." he shouted, still out of line of sight at the top
of the waterfall. "I'm going on ahead."

"Got it!" said Cap from the base of the small cliff over the noise of the
thawing waterfall.

Johnny hurried, sweating, towards the small pool the woman pilot had mentioned.
He dropped his medical pack and extra blankets into a pile in the sun and
rounded a copse of yellow leaved trees. 

There he saw the wounded kayaker, just starting to tumble face down into 
the water from his still floating, damaged boat.

Gage yelled in surprise and rushed, high stepping into the cold shallow water in
an attempt to catch him before he disappeared from sight. 

He failed.

A deep hole opened up under Johnny's feet and he plummeted into frigidness,
neck deep. The numbing icy water made him gasp in shock and he barely
managed to hold his head above the waves as it subsided into a shuddering
breath that was under his control again. Nerves on fire, Gage jerked into
motion anyway.

Reaching out, Johnny lunged forward towards the tipped kayak in the next 
second, just catching the back of the man's shirt collar under his heavily 
cracked helmet, as it slipped beneath the surface, with a couple of fingers.

Locking his hands on either side of the man's ears, palms down, elbows up, to stabilize
head and neck, Gage drew up the kayaker's face carefully back into the air in front of
his chest.  Johnny began shouting to the others as loudly as he could as he
treaded in the cold water vigorously with just his legs to keep them both afloat.

"Hey! He fell in the water! Get up here as fast as you can and help me out!"

A floating iceberg hit his face, making him see stars. Johnny shook his head
to clear it and spat out frozen silt.  He spun around in the water to push away
other ice chunks floating by, away from the man in his arms, using a free foot.  

"Hurry up!" Gage coughed, struggling for space and air.

Marco and Hank shot up over the cliff's edge along the climbing
rope and ran to Johnny's aid. "We're here!" Hank shouted. "Hang on!"
he said, peeling out of his hunting jacket.

Marco began to throw off his boots.

"No, don't come in! It's real deep by me and there's an undertow. I can feel it. 
Just lasso a rope around my upper body and pull us in. I got him firm, but I can't let 
go. Something's wrong with his spine." Gage gasped, shivering. "He's really crooked
above the shoulders."

A sudden cramp bit into Johnny's side and made his head jerk forward. His chin hit 
the kayaker's shoulder before he could avoid it. 

"AhHHh!" groaned the wounded young man at the light impact.

"Hey, mister? You felt that? Can you hear me?" Johnny asked, panting,
still keeping his arms locked tight around the man's head.

The man began to struggle, delirious, not completely awake.

"No, don't move!" Johnny told him. "We'll--"

One of the man's legs kicked, catching Gage in the stomach, hard. All the air
left Johnny's lungs in a whoosh and he lost buoyancy.

Both of them went underwater just as a circle of rope shot out
and splashed down around where they had been.

"Johnny?!" yelled Lopez.

Hank cursed and ran out to the end of the river sandbar in
his shoes and all. He dove into the center of the circle of rope
that he had just thrown, one hand catching its edge to drag it down
into the depths with him.

Bubbles and chunks of dirty ice tumbled up from the bottom of the pool
and soon, three heads emerged back into the sunlight, two of them
coughing noisily. Gage and Stanley hung on tight as Marco snubbed
the rope they had looped around themselves and the kayaker about
a nearby stump as he hauled them back, hand over hand, to the sandbar.

"Okay, we're safe." Gage hollered up to him. "Get down here and help
us hold him upright, while we climb out." Johnny said, still not letting go 
of the man's head and neck from the way he had first clamped onto him.

Stanley spoke from where he was wrapped tight in a bearhug around
the kayaker's bloody shoulders. He was listening close to the man's back. 
"He's still breathing a little." he decided.

"How much?" Gage panted, beginning to shiver again.

"It's enough." Stanley coughed as Marco made his way down to them
after tying off their rescue rope.

-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Eventually, Cap, Johnny were back inside their winter jackets
with their victim safely secured and out of the river. They had used the
bottom of the shattered kayak as a long board and one of their ropes
as a criss cross braided tie down. For lack of a headblock, they left the 
man's helmet in place, padding it off levelly with the rest of his body using
a blanket and cut off only its fastened chin strap for easier airway 
monitoring and maintenance.

##What are his injuries, 70?## asked Almstedt, once communications
had been reestablished.

Gage was mummied into a blanket of his own as he sat drying off 
against a hot rock against the cliff. He tried to speak without his teeth
chattering. "Probable skull fracture and lower C7 involvement or
dislocation, broken ribs on the left side. I can't find any holes. And 
a fractured right ankle. Also moderate--"

##...hypothermia. Got it. Popular theme in our patients today it seems.##
Joanne sighed, watching another ranger team bringing in some campers
suffering from chillblains into the hospital's emergency area. ##So you
say he was conscious for a time and still had sensation below the 
cervical/thoracic notch after he fell into the water?##

"Yes, I accidently bumped his shoulder. He felt it." Gage said, watching
Marco monitor the kayaker's breathing through the oral airway they
had given him.

##That's a good sign. Maybe he didn't sever his spinal cord after all.
How are his vitals holding?##

"Pulse's 130 and thready. Respirations are twenty two and shallow.
BP palp'd is at least 80 at the brachial. I'd guess about a 1000 cc's 
blood loss due to cuts and abrasions about the f-face, head and n-neck."
Johnny grimaced angrily as he started shivering again. " And doc, all 
hemorrhaging's been a-addressed. There's no more ...uh... leaks. We
found them all."

##Okay, and how are your vital signs?##

"Mine? Why? I'm f-fine."

##Truth now, Mr. River Jumper.##

"Okay. All right. I'm-I'm still shivering but normal." Gage told her. 
"Ma'am, believe me when I tell you, I'm not a flight candidate.." he told 
her very no-nonsense through tightly clenched teeth.

Cap finally tromped over and dumped another dry blanket on Johnny's head
in irritation. "Would you get out of those wet clothes already?!" he hissed.

##I heard that. Do it now. Listen to your friend. My direct orders. ## Joanne
drawled dryly. ## I'll still be here to give you an ETA on the next chopper when 
you get back.##

Johnny just sighed, set down the radio, and started stripping. Soon he
was down to just skin.

##My kind of boy.## 

Frowning, Gage startled, and turned the radio around on its rock.

------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Morgan Wainwright's hail came loud and strong through the radio
a few minutes later. ## 240 Robert-Air to Appalachia Central. I'm on
the way in with Victim Number One from Tag 70. I've a civilian 
paramedic and Trap on board with one firefighter.##

"Way to go Roy and Chet..." cheered Hank happily. He knew
Stoker would choose to remain behind to either watch camp or to
stow all their stuff back into the rover before insisting on accompanying
the left behind 240-Robert's ground paramedic to his second rescue 
assignment with them. "Gage are you warm yet?"

"Getting there.." Johnny said from his naked, spread eagle place on the 
hot rock by the cliff base underneath the pile of blankets. "Marco, how's
he doing?" he asked, his eyes watering from the direct sunlight.

"Okay, I think. Pulse's slowing.. and so's his breathing rate."

"Ah, not good." Johnny mumbled, staring at the sky from his refuge.
"Not with a head injury.." he mumbled. "Any JVD?" he asked, a little louder.

"What's that? Bladder and bowel loss?" Marco asked.

"No.. That's incontinence. JVD is when your blood pressure or intracranial 
pressure's high or if you have a certain kind of lung collapse going on. Your 
veins'll pop out at the neck when you breathe in, and sink back down again 
when you exhale,...if there's that kind of trouble." Johnny explained.

"Oh. Uh, let me see.. No there's nothing yet." Lopez reported, running a 
few fingers lightly over the arteries in the man's lower neck.

"Good. That's good." Gage said, letting his head clunk back down onto
heated stone again. "Just keep tabs on him real close."

Cap, meanwhile, was clearing away the brush from the only column of clear
sky that he had found through the heavy trees.  Surrounding them, were 
more steep cliffs like the kind ringing the lower waterfall's valley where their
deer camp was located. "Hey guys, I think I found the place." he said
studying his perspective view straight up through tree limbs. 
"Yeah, I think a chopper cable can lower down through here, just fine."

"Yeah, but how's the wind up at the top?" Gage asked, getting sleepy and
fighting it.

Cap squinted and analyzed the tree tops. His face fell. "Pretty bad.
There's a lot of twisting going on up there."

"G*d d*mn it.." Johnny cursed. "Had to be hard, didn't it? After all the 
trouble we had....... getting up here to rescue him?" he groused. "Aw, man."
Then he started coughing.

Hank frowned and wandered over to where Gage was lying on the boulder.
"How are you really doing?" he asked seriously, taking Johnny's pulse at his 
wrist.

"Uh,.. "

"You're getting cold again." he said sternly. "Slow pulse. Come here, pal. No, don't
get up." And he dragged Gage by the ankles, blankets and all, down the big, flat
boulder to a new hot spot.

"Ow! That's hot!" Gage said, arching up and cushioning his hands underneath his
butt.

"Good, glad something's burning your *ss again. Now shut up, lie still, 
and conserve your body heat."

---------------------------------------------------------------------------

Photo:  Kayak tipped over, guy underwater.

Photo:  Morgan Wainwright reaching for medical gear from a chopper.

Photo:  Deputy Paramedic Dwayne Thibideaux, close up. 

Photo:  240 Robert- Ground paramedics climing a hill with medgear.

Photo:  Johnny climbing a cliff in street clothes.

Photo:  Man, falling out of a kayak.

Photo:  Kayaker laid out on the rocks on his back, helmet on.

Photo:  People wrapping up a guy into blankets.

Photo:  Captain Stanley looking down, outside in sunlight.

Photo:  Gage under a blanket on his back looking confused.

*************************************************** 
From: patti k <pattik1@hotmail.com> 
Subject: Shake, Rattle and Roll.. 
Date: Thu Mar 12, 2009 9:58 pm 
  
Ken Baxter was just edging over into the lake valley when a new call
came out. 

##Appalachia Central, Bluebird Five.##

"Go Appalachia.." said, Ken, hefting up his radio mic.

##Marker 70 reports a second victim upstream four hundred yards
above Kaaterskill Falls. An off duty paramedic is in attendance. 240 
Robert Air is transporting Victim One, and will be 10-6 for twenty. 
Reroute to assess extrication by aerial cable from the head of the 
falls. 240 Robert Ground will rendevous.##

"I copy transmission. Heading to those coordinates now. Do you read
transponder code activation?"

##10-4. Positional is 37 23.516 -122 02.625 easterly. Alert: Winds are
building in your area. Gusts possible to 3-5.## replied the dispatcher.
##Radar indicates no squall.##

"Bluebird Five concurs and acknowledges. Will report when on hover,
over contact." Ken replied over the channel. 

##Copy, Bluebird Five.##

Joey Collins shifted in his seat, staying quiet as he listened to the
interchange between his pilot and the ranger base. When Ken finally
nosed the chopper away from the broad lake, he spoke.
"It's bad, isn't it?" the boy asked.

Baxter kept the calm smile on his face. "Not necessarily. We've only
been called in to scout things ahead of time for a climbing team. 
Nobody's dying or the dispatcher would have pushed up our response 
time with a real sharp hint or two."

Joey eyed up Ken thoughtfully. "There's not much you can do anyway.
There's no place to land."

Baxter nodded ruefully, and mumbled under his breath. "Ain't that the truth?"


----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
In 240 Robert Air, Roy DeSoto worked quickly with Thibideaux to 
keep the first kayaker stabilized. "What are his core temp and vital signs 
now?" he asked Dwayne, the sheriff/paramedic.

Thib looked up from his detailed exam that he had just completed.
"93.2°F. His carotid pulse is 40, strong and regular, pupils are constricted 
but still equal and reactive to light. Monitor's nonspecific bradycardia."

Chet Kelly looked up from his work with the heated, humidified bag valve mask. 
"Respirations on his own are 8 and shallow. I'm keeping him at twelve manually."

"Keep it easy.." Roy cautioned him. "We don't want him to warm up too fast."

Dwayne eyed up DeSoto where he was listening to the quality of breaths going
into their patient with an amplified stethoscope. "Worried about afterdrop?"

"The thought did come to mind.." Roy admitted, pushing the warmed
I.V. fluid into the drip chamber a little faster.

Thib bit his lip. "Chet, uncover his legs... slow the heat building up there."

Just as Kelly was doing so, the kayaker arched up into a back breaking
but rigid convulsion, sighing deeply in new, ugly gasps. Luckily, the
backboard straps held him down. "Is he waking up?" Chet yelled, fighting to
keep the steam at least on blow by over the man's mouth and nose.

"Yes." both Dwayne and DeSoto said together. 

Roy ordered. "Chet, keep him oxygenating."

Dwayne leaned down low and pulled out the man's oral airway and suctioned
out the limp, drooling mouth around Chet's mask. "Sir.." he asked near an ear.
"Can you hear me at all? Easy. You're in good hands. We've found
your buddy and he's alive. Try and open your eyes. Can you do that for
me?"

The man's loud, noisy breathing gained strength and vigor and his whole body
spasms suddenly relaxed as his eyes rolled. He gurgled vocally. Kelly 
held the bag of warm steam over the man's nose and mouth without 
squeezing it anymore and some fluid drained out. The kayaker moaned
and grabbed his chest.

Roy and Dwayne propped up their patient's backboard and headblock onto a 
stack of blankets to ease his breathing. "Spit it out. We got you." DeSoto said, 
helping Thib get the suction wand around the man's shivering teeth. "Mister, do 
you know what happened to you today?" he asked as the man began to grope
the air purposefully with shivering fingers as he fought back to consciousness.

The man coughed, proving his throat was finally clear. He tried to swipe the
hissing, heated Res-Q-Air mask away from his face clumsily with both hands.
 
Thib dissuaded him.
"Nope. Leave that alone. It's just some warm oxygen. You need it." said
Dwayne, gently restraining the man with crossed wrists over the man's chest. 
"You're doing fine. Do you know who we are?"

The man finally opened his damp, bleary eyes.. "Rangers?" he guessed.

All three rescuers in the chopper smiled. "Yes. We're paramedics and we
pulled you from the river." said Roy. "Do you hurt anywhere?"

"I'm really...c-cold.." shivered the man. Then his body arched up into another 
involuntary convulsion. The kayaker was aware enough to be frightened by it. 
He shouted inarticulately.

Thib grabbed his shoulders.
"Relax,.. just try to relax! Those are cramps from being chilled too much. They'll
go away in a few minutes. Keep taking deep breaths on that steam mask, okay?" 
Dwayne shouted. "Hey... Can you hear me?"

But the man was lost in his seizure and soon fell unconscious at the height of it.

"Help him on the in's, Chet." Roy told Kelly. "Until it's over. I'll put in a toothguard
to keep him open."

Chet worked carefully, getting in a few deep ventilations. 

The kayaker fell still and quiet, his heart beating quickly from stress.

"What's going on back there?" Morgan Wainwright shouted from the 
open glass cockpit, just in front of their horizontal stokes.

"His temp's dropping again." Thib told her.

"I'll let Appalachia know." she said, toggling her radio mic relaying to
the ranger base hospital. "240 Robert-Air to Appalachia. We're 
encountering a patient setback. I'm increasing speed."

##What's the nature of the problem?## Dr. Almstedt asked.

"Falling core temp." Morgan told her.

##10-4, we have peritoneal dialysis and an extra-corporeal blood warming 
bypass team standing by.## Joanne replied calmly.

Roy and Thib worked hard to heat up the blankets and I.V. fluids with packs.
But there was no change in the kayaker's mental status even after a few minutes 
of aggressively pumped in breaths on the steamed O2 ventilator.

"Is the battery going dead?" Dwayne asked Roy, eyeing up the Res-Q-Air unit.

"How can you tell?" Roy shot back, worried.

"The amp needle on the indicator at the back.." Thib told him. "It should
be in the green."

"It's red." Roy replied.

"Then the power's losing output. Hang on. I'll switch it out."

Morgan shouted over the noise of her chopper's rotary props.
"We're clearing the final ridge of mountains. I'll have us landed in four 
minutes!" she updated everyone. The chopper buffeted, jolting in a 
sudden side wind. Wainwright compensated nimbly, keeping them steady.
"Now where did that come from?" she mumbled to herself, moving 
her other gloved hand onto the flight stick. ::Huh. Completely clear
skies all the way around us. Now why isn't it smooth sailing up here?:: she 
wondered.

As if in reply, the helicopter gave a shudder as another series of wind
gusts shook them, like a dog with a rag in its teeth. They filled
the chopper with the distinct tang of salt.

::Clever ocean breeze? Not today.:: Wainwright smirked mentally.

Protectively, Morgan gained altitude.

-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Bluebird Five pitched and yawed skillfully over mountain ridges and 
over tree tops like a falcon. 

"Almost there, young man." Ken told Joey Collins. "Make sure your
seatbelt's fastened tightly. When we get near the ground the wind'll
get rough, you hear? I don't want you rattling out of your helmet to
the point where I have to grab your shirt to hold you still."

"Yes, Mr. Baxter."

------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Photo:  Ken Baxer, flying a nimble chopper.

Photo:  Joey Collins in a flight helmet.

Photo:  Roy DeSoto working over an unconscious person.

Photo:  Morgan Wainwright looking down in 240-Robert Air.

Photo: Sheriff/Paramedic Dwayne Thibideaux treating someone, 
            looking worried, closeup.

Photo:  A man, wrapped in a shock sheet, being tended.

Photo: A closeup of a helicopter's rotary blades in flight.

**************************************************
Subject: Nature.. 
From:  patti k (pattik1@hotmail.com)  
Sent: Mon 3/23/09 12:59 AM 

Their rescue helicopter banked over a tall ridge and headed 
east toward the distant river and its small waterfall. Beech and pine trees
bending in a breeze over a mountain top alerted Ken to a change.

"Holy mackerel. It's a microburst." the Baxter chuckled as he
stabilized Bluebird Five's altitude.

"But where are the storm clouds?" Joey radioed back through his
foot toggle and headset.

"Doesn't have to be any this close to the ocean. Daytime heating
and cooling are enough to make 'em happen this time of year.
Hang on, we'll try entering their valley from the north." Ken told him.

----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

In 240-Robert Air, Thib straightened up from reconnecting a new
battery to the Res-Q-Air ventilator. "Okay.. it should get back up
to operating temperature in a few seconds." he told Roy.

"Chet, how's his seal?" DeSoto asked.

"Fine." answered Kelly, holding the ventilator mask firmly over
the kayaker's mouth and nose. "Still good chest rise when I 
help him out."

"He should be improving." Dwayne frowned, checking and
rechecking the respiratory tube and insulation coat leading from
the small heated oxygen ventilator machine to Kelly's mask. 
"We fixed the problem." he said, frustrated. Then he asked. 
"What's he at?"

Roy reached down and got another tympanic temperature
reading with the helicopter's scanner. "90.3°F. Let's bump up
his I.V. Maybe he's out because he's getting seriously 
hypovolemic with that polyuria."  DeSoto turned the drip chamber 
to wide open after marking down its starting volume and the time 
on a chart. "Line's still patent into that vein at.... 110 degrees."

"That's just where the doc wants it." Dwayne grunted, thinking. He
finally pursed his lips. "Huh...I'll check for a peripheral B.P. so we 
know what it is for sure." Thibideax nodded. "He should have one 
showing up in his legs by now. They're almost warm to the touch."

"Here." said Roy, handing him a thigh cuff.

Thib worked swiftly, listening with his stethoscope. Then he looked
up. "Yep, he's low volume. 80/62." he reported.

"From afterdrop?" 

"No, his arms and legs are still pale. Nothing's dilated circulatory 
wise here yet." Dwayne replied.

"Second I.V.?" DeSoto suggested.

"Yeah. I'll get one ready." Thib agreed quickly, running his hands
over the kayaker's stomach in a check. "Belly's still soft."

"So, no large internal hemorrhaging inside."

"Nope." Dwayne said. "There's still no bruising anywhere." he exasperated.

Roy toggled his chopper helmet's talk button. "Morgan, notify the
doc that we've begun forcing fluid. He's getting real volume shocky."

##I'll get on it.## Wainwright replied. ##We're two minutes out from the
park hospital. And I just heard Bluebird Five. She's been confirmed 
by Base, as heading directly for the second victim to scout out 
good air access there.##

Thib nodded, signalling Morgan over the noise of flight with a
hand gesture. Then he turned to Roy. "I'm going I.O." he said,
grabbing for a bone gun package. He bit it open.

"What?" DeSoto blinked, not comprehending.

"Intraosseus. It's a new thing. A needle cath into bone marrow."
Thib replied, tearing off the sterile paper from the tool.

"Where?" Roy asked dubiously.

"Top of the shin, below the knee cap. It'll be very stable." Dwayne 
grinned. "And we can push. A lot." he said of fluid loading.

DeSoto raised his eyebrows, impressed. "Whoa. Walk me through."

"Watch. It's easy." He uncovered the kayaker's leg and turned
it sideways. "Swab that down." he said. "Right along the front
of the bone."

Roy did so.

Now Dwayne reached for the blue drill gun sitting on its wrap and fitted
it with a round snub, bearing a thick, one inch needle bore. "You feel one 
finger width medial to the tibial tuberosity, right below the knee cap,
on the big toe side. See that groove?" he said, landmarking the spot
with sterile gloved fingertips.

"Yep." Roy replied, holding up a flushing syringe of saline, prepped and
ready.

"Set the driver ninety to the bone." he said, carefully angling the lancet
into position. Then he triggered the gun.

*Bang!* it went.

"Now it's in." Thib shared, holding the embedded cap's cover with a thumb
while he unscrewed the gun nozzle from the cath circlet. "You just remove
the stylet, and test the flow with the flush catheter syringe extension set. Like 
this." he demonstrated. "See how the blood's welling up through the hub?"

"It's slow."

"Ah, don't let that fool you. The space under there, inside, is a bottomless pit.
Just aspirate a little bit of it, as the marrow's thick, to create some room."

"What about pain when he wakes up?"

"There's only some when I'm injecting or drawing up. A ten mil bolus of
lidocaine into the marrow will handle it for hours. And punching through the
skin's nothing. It's so thin. There's no muscle in the way." He delivered the
medication. Then he wiped up with a sterile 4x4 and connected their second 
flowing, hot saline I.V. line. 

Then pointing, Thibideaux gestured. "Now try to rock that."

Roy looked down at the disc of plastic embedded into the shinbone with
its small vertical shaft tube, and grabbed hold of it. He tried to move it. 

It didn't budge. 

DeSoto made a small sound of amazement. "No tape's needed there."

"That's the beauty of it. And we can dump in as much as we want. There's
no venous resistance getting in the way. It's all porous. Like a sponge.
And no risk of embolus at all." he said, recovering up the leg to keep it
warm.

"Wow." said Roy, dialing up the new line to wide open.

"You want these for your fire department?" Dwayne asked.

"Is fire hot?" Roy gaped, still tickled.

"I'll send some out for your docs to play with. The manufacturer's
free licensing."

"What's it called?" DeSoto said, picking up the used gun to study
it in detail.

"EZ-IO." Thib coined.

"Perfect name." Roy chuckled. "This'll catch on like wildfire back 
at home."

Chet made a noise and shifted uncomfortably from where he was 
sitting at the man's head.

"What?" Roy asked him.

"Eoowww." Kelly shivered. "You just darted a man's shin bone."

"That bothers you?" DeSoto asked with a smile, surprised.

"Duhhh. When was the last time you hit yourself with a hammer
in the leg?" Chet scoffed right back.

Soon, the kayaker awoke as his temperature responded to
the newly recharged humidified oxygen and the additional fluid he 
was being given.

Then Dwayne, Chet and Roy had their hands full managing him
as best they could through another series of involuntary muscle
spasms that were an improvement over the earlier convulsions.

------------------------------------------------------------------

Ken Baxter circled in the air high over the juxtaposition of
three adjoining mountain ridges fringed with tall, twisted weather 
warped pine trees.  "Okay, we're toeing the line. Ready to get
down to business?" he asked Joey.

Collins grinned, and rechecked his seatbelt and helmet strap
buckles. "Yeah. Will there be bad turbulence coming up?"

"More than a bit I suspect, but I'll bring us over those firefighters
by the waterfall nice and easy." Baxter told him.

"Then I'm ready when you are." the boy said firmly, still gripping
his navy hat.

"So,..." Ken said, popping his lips. "You aren't nervous?"

"Why? Should I be?"

"Well, yeah." Baxter countered. "You aren't flying this beast."

Joey just rolled his eyes. "Mr. Baxter, you're older than
me by a whole elephant's lifetime. So if you haven't learned
something about helicopters in all your years yet, I'm a girl." he
said.

Ken just studied Joey's face and harrumphed skeptically, 
staring at him. "Thanks for that seal of approval, kid."

"Don't mention it. Now let's get going yesterday, okay? 
There's a hurt guy down there." Joey said, drumming both 
palms on the curving glass windshield in front of his window
crushed nose. 

"We're gone!" crowed Ken, and he flipped Bluebird Five over
into a sharp descent to slice under the prevailing winds.

"WahhhWHHHOoooo!" said Joey, feeling his stomach leap
into his throat as they shot down into the right valley.

When they had levelled off, the boy looked up from
his grip on the windshield. "How far now?"

Ken waggled his head, thinking as he flew.
"Oh, we're about three miles away from the rescue site. 
All we have to do is follow these cliffs in a line that leads 
straight to them. The river's coming up just ahead around 
this b-" 

A sharp strike of something heavy on the windshield on 
Joey's side spidered it with an impact crater the size of
a grapefruit. The boy flinched.

Ken ducked, too, at the noise and jerked the flight stick 
sharply to the right. "Wind debris! Hang on!"

He lurched Bluebird Five away from the limestone cliff
face, dipping quickly towards an open space to gain some 
distance away from the danger.

But more rocks bounced off of the helicopter's roof in loud
reverberations in a cloud of dust.

"What th--" Baxter blurted, ducking again. Thinking fast,
he tried to gain altitude to get higher than the cliffs as he continued
to angle away.

"What's hitting us?" Joey gasped.

"Rocks! We must have run into a dust devil! We're getting out of--"

*Thud!* came a strong hit above.  With a jolt, the rotor
assembly over their heads protested in a loud shriek of metal
and the sound of the chopper's engine began to miss. A small 
piece of a flight blade tip floated away in a puff of dust and clay
from pulverized stone, like a tossed ruler.

"Oh, crud." said Ken. "I was afraid of that happening!"
Bluebird Five groaned and slipped into an uncompensated slow spin 
as Ken fought to control her. "We're going down now! Joey, help me look 
for a landing place! Ughh!" he grunted, fighting the control stick's 
wild gyrations.

"Ken?!" Joey panicked. "I can't see anything! My window's all--"

They both screamed when Joey's window blew out, sucking out
papers and every loose object aboard, including the boy's forgotten 
navy cap.

"Cover your face! Cover your--" Baxter shouted, throwing up his arms.

CRASH!

Bluebird Five struck sudden pine tops and lurched to a halt, snagged 
on swishing, snapping breaking boughs of pitch pungent wood. Its tail sagged 
downwards as the nose of the rescue craft clung to a tree.  Baxter flicked 
all power off, ceasing ignition and rpms. "Good enough for me! These are 
soft! Hold on, kid! We're gonna slide backwards here. Whatever you do,
don't tense up!" he shouted aloud. 

Joey screamed again as the helicopter went vertical, plunging  
groundwards, partially cushioned by pine boughs and splintering trunks 
in nauseating stop-and-starting falls. They were cradled sickeningly for 
long moments, then dropped when pine limbs broke under their sudden 
weight.

Both pilot and boy clung to their seats' arms as they fell, staring up
at the crystal clear blue sky whirling above them. A last brown tongue
of the departing dust devil spat down sand in buffy curly Q's into their 
faces.

Then Bluebird Five disappeared from view into the belly of the forest.

-----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

"So..." Stanley grunted as he pegged a look at Gage, who was now 
suffering a case of healthy shivering inside of his three ski jackets, 
a hat, and multi layered pants. "Muscles back I gather?" he asked.

"Yep." Johnny replied, carefully returning to their waterfall rescued victim.

"Good. Glad that turned around." Then Cap looked up at the sky 
once again and glanced at his watch. "That's odd."

"What is?" Gage asked, crouching by Marco who was wrapping
insulating layers around their patient. Everything that could be
splinted, had been. 

"Just how far away are we from Park Headquarters again?"

"Uh, about seventeen miles I'd guess." Johnny replied, taking
a pulse on the injured kayaker.

"That's about right." said Lopez.

"Then what's the hold up on the rescue chopper coming to scout us
out? It should have already blasted in over our heads five minutes ago."
Stanley reasoned.

His scowl now matching Cap's, Johnny toggled the radio. "Tag 70 to
Appalachia Central. Do you have a new E.T.A. on our chopper?"

There was a startled squawk from the handheld. ##We've received
a non-comm. Investigating the situation. We are rerouting 240 Robert Air
after her patient drop off, to your location.##

"10-4." Gage shrugged. "Tag 70 out." Then he studied Cap's suddenly
lined face. "I've got a real bad feeling, Cap."

"Yeah." Hank said, rubbing his lips thoughtfully. "Me, too. Can't see any 
chopper being tardy for anything." 

"How many are on board?" Johnny wondered.

"Two, if I remembered the radio chatter that came from dispatch earlier right."

"Ah, man.. It just gets better and better." Gage groused. "Well at least,
he's holding his own." he said, throwing his head down at their patient. "Pulse's 
slowing, but still steady." he reported. 

"Brain swelling?" Marco asked.

"Yeah. Let's hope not too fast before our mannitol gets here."

--------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------


Roy, Thib and Chet helped Morgan Wainwright unload their patient from 
the bubble stokes access on 240-Robert Air. They were met by Joanne 
Almstedt, Terri Blake and Paul Carnes who intercepted them in the parking 
lot with two other nurses.

"How's he doing?" Nurse Terri Blake asked, peering at the kayaker's 
face from the stokes they had placed onto a wheeled gurney.

"He's conscious. Still no signs of blunt injuries." said Roy.

"We'll take over from here." said Joanne. "I'd like you to get back to the
second victim, if you'd care to, as fast as possible."

Paramedic Carnes, the park ranger captain, said more. "Your friend's reporting 
multiple trauma on him."

"Be glad to." DeSoto told them, handing the lady doctor his notes on Victim One.

Dwayne accepted a second Res-Q-Air Terri handed him from a supply
basket underneath the gurney. "It's charged.." she told him.

"Thanks." Thib said to her. Together, he, Roy and Chet ran fast to where
Morgan was keeping her chopper running hot and got back on board.

A quick slamming of hatches and doors and they were off again, rotating
swiftly on tail blades, rising high into the late morning mist.

Morgan turned in her seat once the three had redonned their radio helmets.
"I've got a situation. Our other rescue helicopter just dropped off the radar."

"Did they crash?" Chet Kelly asked.

"Or they were forced down due to mechanic error." Morgan hoped.

Dwayne began a hail on hand held band to Bluebird Five.
He looked up a minute later.

"This isn't like Ken at all. He hasn't radioed out yet." Thib worried,
eyeing up his live but silent radio. "He's a good pilot."

"One of the best." Morgan agreed, nervous, as she flew back to
the waterfall valley.

Roy tried to calm them. "We'll see what we can do once we get there."

-----------------------------------------------------------------------------

Photo:  Paramedic rangers working with a stokes by a chopper.

Photo:   Roy reaching down amid ropes.

Photo:   A red chopper crashing  into a cliff face.

Photo:   Ken Baxter, hurt and muddied on the ground.

Photo:   Joey Collins, unconscious, on his back.

Photo:   Terri Blake, in her ranger's outfit and hat.

Photo:   Cap, kneeling, concerned, outside.

Photo:   Joanne Almstedt examining a boarded man.

Photo:   Johnny Gage looking tense in a small space. 
 
**************************************************
Subject: Up and Down..
From:  patti k (pattik1@hotmail.com)  
Sent: Sat 4/04/09 3:58 AM 

Cap reported his new developments, knowing that the ranger station
fully expected to be kept up to date on all events at his rescue site.

He eyed up Johnny still trying to hide active shivering underneath
his layers where he crouched over the back and head injured kayaker.

##Tag 70, Appalachia Central....## Hank radioed in.

"Go." replied Park Ranger RN Terri Blake on hand held, directly from 
the active treatment area where the first kayaker was being cared for
by a whole hospital team. She watched Dr. Almstedt feverishly
check and recheck a centrally laid I.V. line and rewarming lavage tube
she had just surgically placed in her anesthetized patient.

Captain Paul Carnes was trying not to watch, shielding his eyes, as
he listened in to Terri's audio. 

Blake glared at him. "You're a paramedic for Pete's sake.." she
said.

"So? We don't do any of...of that..out in the field." Paul said, cringing 
in the willies.

"Think of it as just a hot water tube." she shrugged as Stanley began
reporting again through her handy talkie speaker.

"But it's going into his..his-.."

"...innards. Yes, I know. He needs rewarming. Bad. If it really bugs
you that much, go pull a curtain between us."

Carnes resolutely ignored the suggestion and curled an ear down
with a finger in a strong hint for her to listen up to their current business.

##....and my man got a little too cold. His coordination's still a little off.##

"Have you wrapped him up, too?" Terri asked.

##Yeah. But he's being mule headed and climbed off the sun rock
we parked him onto to warm up. Still arguing about it.##

"Can't force him to comply with care if he wants to work. I know how
stubborn paramedics can get." she said, rolling her eyes at Paul.

Next to her, Carnes smacked her in the shoulder. Hard.

"Ow..." Terri told him, keeping her finger off the talk button. She
smacked him back.

From the patient cubicle, Joanne glanced up from her fast stabilization.
"Kids..." Almstedt warned.

"Sorry." Terri and Paul both said aloud. Blake thumbed the radio.
"Tag 70. Keep an eye on him. Watch for signs of afterdrop. That
active mouth will end pretty fast if his core temp falls any more.
I'll let the incoming rescue team know."

##Thanks. I think I'll go sit on him.## Hank growled in frustration.

"That works. Keep us posted." Terri chuckled.

--------------------------------------------------------------------------

**(Portions of the 240 Robert characters' dialogue and the action 
following is taken from the 240 Robert TV series pilot, Apology. 
First Aired August 28, 1979 Writer : John Furia Jr. with Story by 
Rick Rosner)**

Trap drove to the blaze Thib had spray painted earlier and shot out of 
the rescue jeep, just as 240 Robert Air sailed in to land close by in a 
grassy clearing.

He rushed over to the waterfall ravine's clifftop and peered over the edge. 
He saw three hunter types over a horizontal body that was splinted up the 
wazoo.

"Hey! Are you all right?!"   Trap shouted down to the California firefighters 
monitoring their patient.

"Yeah!" Cap shouted.

"How many below?!" Applegate yelled even louder as Morgan kicked the 
helicopter into high standby mode on full. He only half noticed Thib, Chet 
and Roy piling out of the chopper. He saw them begin to run for the rescue 
jeep.

"Tw--" Hank began, cupping his hands over his mouth.

Johnny interrupted Cap's answer sharply. "One!  Probable skull and lower 
C7. Broken left ribs, no holes. Fractured.. r-right ankle. Low temp.." his
voice said, echoing up the seventy foot cliff that separated them.

Trap frowned, studying Gage's face thoughtfully. ::He's lying to me about 
himself.:: he thought. ::Sounds like his voice's slurred.::  Applegate waved 
down to them and ran back to the dirt road.

Back at the rescue jeep, Thib made fast preparations.

"Okay, Morgan. Could you get my med pack for me?"  Dwayne asked 
as he pulled over his climbing gear bag and hastily got into its harness 
ties and climbing hitches.

"Sure." she said, running to a side door. She let Chet dig through the 
rescue jeep for more blankets to toss down to his friends. She helped him 
pile them into his arms.

Then Kelly took off for the cliffs, fast. DeSoto lingered behind to get news.

Trap reported to Thib. "The paramedic's down on the ledge, not yet hurting 
too badly from the cold. Appalachia says these men pulled the kayaker off 
the river bottom. They've reported in that he can move but hasn't moved 
since they got him out..... There's no one else."

"Good." Dwayne nodded, still hurrying through his climbing gear and 
communications equipment self checks. He pulled on a red helmet. 

"How about giving them both a quick check after you get down there to 
see for sure what we got here?" Applegate suggested. 

Thib bobbled his head in full agreement. 

"Boy, I tell ya. This wind is going to be a problem." Trap declared, watching 
the pines around them swish violently around them. He thumbed Dwayne 
on the shoulder encouragingly and moved off a little ways away from the 
noise of the helicopter to report their arrival.

Thib accepted Morgan's help with sliding on an orange paramedic pack 
onto his back over the climbing harnesses he had tied on with carbiners 
and a dead man's stop. Then he took up a two hundred foot coil of climbing 
rope and ran over to the cliff top's actively wind blown and dusty edge.
He squinted through the flying sand once they got there.

Roy joined him, too, partially covering his eyes to protect them. "How is he 
doing now?" he asked about Johnny as he set up some oxygen for the 
kayaker that Morgan had handed to him. He strung out a mask and tested 
the valve for flow. 

"Trap says he's cold, and probably denying it." Thib replied.

"Yeah, it'd be just like him to do that." Kelly told them. "Cap put his foot 
down a few moments ago. They're wrapping Gage up now with the blankets 
I just threw down to them."

"Here, I'll put this in your pack." DeSoto said, placing the small oxygen 
cylinder into a side pocket of Dwayne's gear. "It's all set up."

"Thanks." Thibideaux arched an arm out widely in a gesture and the others 
backed off to give him room.

"Hey! I'm gonna throw a rope. Then I'll come right down to you!" Dwayne 
told Marco, Gage and Hank at the bottom.   

"Okay.." Hank said, watching them. Gage was nearby, panting on a rock, 
finally accepting a seat Marco insisted he take.

"On rappel!" Thib shouted to Morgan.

"Ready." she said, keeping a glove on the guide line that they had tied off to 
the rescue jeep's power winch housing.

Another sheriff's paramedic rescue jeep pulled up next to 240 Robert 2 
and two men got out, one, in a park ranger's outfit. They hurried over to the 
others' sides to help them man the rappel lines and provide more radio 
coverage for the rescue effort.

Thib stepped over the edge and began a slide down, bouncing
off the cliff with his feet, the rope humming through his gloves
as he descended.

Dwayne was almost to the bottom when there was a commotion by the rock. 
Marco shouted as Johnny suddenly noodled off the boulder, down to his 
knees.

Hank yelled. "Grab him!" But he didn't leave the kayaker's head where he 
was listening to the man's erratic breathing, a new change.

Thib thumbed the radio mic that was hooked onto his shoulder through an 
epaulet. "Whoa, whoa, topside!  Our second man's in trouble. Hold on while 
I get a status!"  He leaped to the bottom of the gorge and unhooked himself 
from the line, hurrying over to Johnny.  

"Lopez, I need you over here." Stanley said gently. "This guy's getting dyspneic."

Dwayne nodded at Marco. "I got him. Just go." he said, reaching for 
Gage's shoulders."Okay, I'm gonna set you down." he told Gage. He didn't 
resist Johnny's limp slump onto his stomach, as he helped him ease to the 
ground. Then he looked up at Lopez. "I'll be right over there with you guys. 
I promise."

Marco left reluctantly. 

Thib bent close over Johnny's back. "Hey, can you hear me?" He saw 
that Gage had fainted, lightly. His skin was very cold.

##Thib, this is Ted Cassidy, do you need assistance?## barked his radio.

Thib tipped up Johnny's forehead, where he was lying face down, to open 
his mouth.

##We see your man down.## C.B Harris added from above.
     ##Do you need another team?## Ted Cassidy asked again at the 
same time.

Thib glanced up and signalled a wait gesture.

Gage startled then and shook himself awake, sucking in air painfully as
he began to shiver again, powerfully. He mumbled..."..hey, isn't that--?.."  

Thib smiled, glad for the return to consciousness.
"The Sierra guys? Yeah, they flew out from Yosemite last week to train with 
us and work with our helicopter. Sort of like the training you guys are 
gonna get with the ARFF crew at the airport." Dwayne told him amicably
as he set a layer of wool over Johnny's head using one of jeep's blankets. 
"How are you doing? What hurts?" he asked.

"N-Nothing. Nothing... I just took too long of a s-swim..." Gage shook, his teeth 
chattering.

"Curl up. We'll get you steaming before you know it."
Thib patted his back companionably as he brushed some hair away from 
a few scratches that the river ice had left behind. He responded on radio 
to his impatient partners at the top. "Trap, he's fine. He's got multiple 
cuts and abrasions. He's gonna be okay. But I wanna winch him up."

Trap transmitted. ##Okay, C.B.'s set on the winch. Ted and I are coming down 
to assist you below.##

Dwayne left Gage in a ball of blankets and hurried over to the kayaker's side.

Ranger Ted Cassidy and Deputy Trap Applegate, laden with another medical 
pack, reached the bottom of their ropes a minute later.

Cassidy went to help belt in Johnny for a winch walk up the cliff.

"Down cable!" hollered Morgan from above.

"Down cable..." Ted confirmed, getting ready to receive the metal tether from 
a rescue jeep moved near the edge. He kept Johnny talking. "So, what are you 
guys doing in winter wonderland? Gage, I thought you hated the snow." he said, 
nestling up under Johnny's arm and shoulder to raise him to his feet once Gage
nodded that he was ready to go.

"No b-bears here.." Gage joked, smiling tiredly as he winced in discomfort.

Marco fled the kayaker as soon as Thib and Trap took his place and he returned 
to fuss over Gage's layers. "Johnny?"

"I got a little lightheaded, Marco. That's all." Gage reassured Lopez, trying to 
keep his eyes focused. "Everything's cool."
 
"No, just you are." Marco frowned. "Your hands are pure ice."

"The climb'll invigorate me." he grinned. "Really. I'm not that bad. See?" and 
he wiggled all of his fingers. "I just moved some cold blood where I shouldn't 
have yet, too soon."

Cassidy groped for Johnny's carotid. "Your pulse's slow, but still regular. 
Lucky for you, your acidosis is minor." he said, letting him go, chiding.

"I knew I wasn't gonna crash. I'm a paramedic. I can tell!" Johnny complained.

"Now that, Marco, my friend, is a sign that Gage's warming up fast. Nobody 
frozen can argue up a storm like this. He's safe to ambulate." Ted joked.

Lopez scoffed happily, relieved.

Johnny sobered as he remembered more of where he was. "How's our other 
guy d-doing?" he asked of the kayaker as he watched Ted belt him onto his
own carrying harness.

Cassidy glanced over his shoulder. "I don't know. They're still taking a close 
look at him over there."

-----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Cap helped the sheriff paramedics put a C-collar around the 
kayaker's neck. "He doesn't seem as cold as the first victim."

"Probably because he wasn't wet that long." Trap replied.

"But neither was Johnny. Why was he effected so much?" Hank asked.

"He never got time to get used to the winter weather. This guy did." 

"That doesn't explain me."

Thib shrugged when he finally noticed that Hank's hair was dripping 
river water. "You're bigger in size. You've got more body mass and 
internal heat."

Thib placed a hasty oropharyngeal airway into the kayaker's mouth
once he was sure he had suctioned out the new blood Cap and Marco 
had been draining. "Trap, he's in bad shape. We've got to get him out 
quick."

"What else have you found?" Trap asked Dwayne.

"Looks like a broken back for sure. Lots of contusions, bruises. 
Dehydrated. He might be on the verge of checkin' out."

"Coma?" Applegate asked.

"Yeah." 

"Want to start an I.V.?"

"Yep. Lactated Ringers and D5W." Thib replied.

"Right." said Trap. Then he lifted his radio. "240 Air?"

##Nearby..## Morgan responded instantly, alert.

"We're gonna need a litter and a backboard. The winds are wild. 
Think you can bring it in?" Applegate asked her.

##I'll try. Where do you want me to put it?## asked Wainwright.

-----------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Meanwhile, outside Morgan's chopper, Ranger Harris radioed 
down to his guest work partner. ##Ted, I'll be back in five, I'm going 
to help Morgan drop a litter.##

Ted replied back. "10-4." he said, steadying himself and Gage
against the cliff face at the bottom. "We'll be ready to ascend 
after that. We're just waiting for Gage here to find his land legs."

"Don't rush me.." Johnny chuckled, laughing at his own clumsiness.
"I'm still working on it. Geez."

------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
Trap answered Morgan. "Anywhere we can reach it."

##Gotcha.##

Thib glanced up at Cap. "Put that I.V. under his shoulder to keep 
it under pressure. Keep it warm." Thib said to him.

"Yep." Stanley answered.

Applegate fitted the oxygen mask over their patient's face quickly.

------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

C.B. left the winch in Chet's capable hands and jumped on board
240 Robert Air. Harris left his passenger flight door swinging open 
so he could dangle a rope down free hand that was attached to the 
light-weighted orange stokes stretcher that he had pulled out of the 
chopper's bed bubble receptacle.

He anchored his feet firmly to the chopper's side runner rung 
as Morgan took off with him and the stretcher.

Once they were over the cliff, he began to feed down the litter,
foot by roped foot.

Then a sharp gust of wind nearly jerked his arms out of their shoulder
sockets as it swept the litter sideways violently. "Ah!!" C.B. cried out.
"Better back off! I can't hold it!!" Harris grimaced. 

Panicking, Morgan locked down on the flight stick.

-----------------------------------------------------------------------------

Photo:  RN Ranger Terri Blake, grinning mischieviously.

Photo:  Paramedic Captain Ranger Paul Carnes, insistent, with a mic.

Photo:  Cap on a radio, talking, tense.

Photo:  Sheriff's pilot Morgan Wainwright grabbing medical gear.

Photo: Deputy paramedic Trap Applegate, yelling down a cliff.

Photo: Deputy paramedics Trap and Thib gearing up by a rescue jeep.

Photo:  Mountain geared Thib checking out a blacked out Johnny Gage. 

Photo:  Marco looking worried in close up.

Photo:  Ranger C.B. Harris hanging out of 240 Robert Air with a litter.

Photo:  Ranger C.B in closeup, struggling out a chopper door, with
             a laden rope.

**************************************************
From:  patti k (pattik1@hotmail.com)  
Sent: Wed 4/08/09 5:54 AM
Subject: Seat Of The Pants.. 

In the hospital reception area, Sarah Collins was frantic.
She rounded on Paul Carnes and Terri Blake at the main
desk where they were listening in to 240 Robert Air's rescue 
rangers at work at a base station. "Why? Why wasn't I told right 
away that my grandson was in trouble?" The silver haired woman
refused to be placated, refused a chair and handed out coffee from
the nurses. She stayed highly distraught.

"Mrs. Collins, we just found out ourselves. Now getting all worked
up about everything even before we know anything concrete is--"
Captain Carnes began.

"I... don't....care.. about me, I only care about my dead boy's son!"
she sobbed hysterically.

That rocked Terri Blake and Paul deeply and for a few seconds, the
rangers fell silent.

"Just what are you people doing about finding my Joey?!" Mrs. Collins
yelled loudly, in fear.

Guiding Sarah by the elbow, Terri and Paul led her into the base station's
secondary room where another radio was broadcasting 240 Robert's rescue
site band, out of the public's ear.

"We've sent out every available ranger team and our third 240 Robert ground
crew pair on a search by cruiser and horseback. We'll find Bluebird Five. 
And fast. This park isn't very big." Paul insisted. 

"But the trees are." Collins countered, quietly intense. Her old, long blond
hair tangled in her face. "How can you see anything out there? I should know,
I've been hiking those trails for years." she said, finally softening in her fright.
"Please! I want to do something."

Paul accomodated. "Then help us search. Go with Terri.." he suggested with
a sweep of his hand.

Blake nodded eagerly. "Can you ride a mule?"

"Of course, I live on a ranch." said Sarah.

"Then let's go.." Terri told her, rising from the table she had been leaning on.
The two women dashed out of the room.

Paul Carnes sighed wearily, rubbing his face. Then he turned back to the 
radio station and turned up the sound.

------------------------------------------------------------------------------

**(Portions of the 240 Robert characters' dialogue and the action 
following is taken from the 240 Robert TV series pilot, Apology. 
First Aired August 28, 1979 Writer : John Furia Jr. with Story by 
Rick Rosner)**


C.B. finally let go of the rope, letting the litter drop and skid down the 
rest of the cliff face. It clattered awkwardly to the others below. 

Trap saw the sudden dump and he signalled Marco to come with him 
to release the lifting tether cable clasp from the stretcher/backboard 
bundle.

Lopez jerked the cable once so the top end coiled up and smacked 
the belly of the chopper to signal to Morgan that the load was free.

Gratefully, Morgan let the biting wind push her back up into the sky. 

Harris looked over at her and smiled wearily as he shut his door and
locked it. She gave him a thumbs up as she went back to land next 
to the rescue jeeps to conserve fuel by dropping off C.B. 

Applegate laid the litter next to their victim and they all got to work. 
Two minutes later, their radios crackled and they felt the vibration 
of chopper blades in their lungs. 

Trap looked up and saw Morgan experimentally executing a tight figure 
eight above them.

##Ready to pull him out?## Morgan asked cheerfully, still buoyed 
by her success with the litter delivery.

Trap rolled his eyes in disbelief at the others. Then he toggled his 
talk button. "You can't come in, Morgan. The winds are wicked and 
getting worse."  

##It's only a problem doing down. Going up will be a snap.## 
Wainwright cooed.

"There are phone wires." Trap told her.

##I've got them spotted.## Morgan countered.

Applegate tried ignoring her as the kayaker was checked and 
rechecked for long board placement and tied down. Soon, their 
patient was strapped and wrapped snugly into the litter.

The motor buzz in their sinuses grew stronger over the howl of the 
wind. Applegate shot a sudden look up to see 240 Robert Air sinking 
slowly towards them, bobbing erratically in a gale.

Nearby, a pine bough snapped off by wind and helicopter forces, 
was sucked up nearly into her props.

Applegate winced. "It looks too dangerous. Pull up!" Trap warned her.

##Too dangerous for me? Or any pilot?##

"Any pilot, Morgan!" Trap growled. 

There wasn't even the slightest hesitation in the next person to person
transmission. ##I'll get down to forty feet but I won't be able to hover long.##
came the red headed pilot's instant reply.

Thib saw his partner finally give in to the inevitable when he let
the radio mic dangle around his wrist by its cord. He almost smiled at Morgan
winning her side of the battle in favor of a fast exit for their victim.
Dwayne watched as Cap, Marco and Trap lifted the wounded man to carry him
over to the one column of clear air space that Stanley had spotted earlier
through the trees. 

A sudden sparkle caught his eyes, making him blink. 
It was a piece of painted metal lying on the stones. Dwayne hefted it up, 
double checking.::Dang. This is a med alert tag!:: he thought in 
unpleasant surprise. Then he read its printing.

"Hey! he's epileptic.." Thib said, showing the others what they had almost
missed seeing. Then he weighed the complications and settled 
instant implications in his head. "I'm riding with him."  

Applegate almost went apoplectic and his face colored. He was thoroughly
unhappy. "What happens if he has a seizure in the air, and starts thrashing 
around?"  

"That's why I'm going. I'll pull out his airway. He might choke to death."  
Dwayne calmly told him.

"Right. And throw you to the ground, hundreds of feet down. I tell you, 
the wind is a bear.." Trap argued.

"Look.. Coming in's a trick. Going up is a piece of cake." Thib grinned
easily, refastening the strap of his red helmet. "Just like she said."

Cap expressed his agreement silently by placing both hands onto
his hips derisively. They all looked at Applegate expectantly.

Trap shut up. Then he pursed his lips and bit down a little pride. "Morgan, 
Thibideaux's gonna have to ride with him. Together they'll be about three 
hundred fifty pounds."

A satisfied silence gelled on the radios.

Unbidden and collectively then, the team got back to work. Moments later, the 
lifting cable ball that Morgan was laboring to lower far enough to the ground, 
finally reached them and thunked rock to steel, onto the ground. They
hastened to attach it to the occupied litter.

Just as swiftly, Thib hooked in his safety's carabiner clasp to the lifting cable's
cradle ring and braced himself, splayed on all fours, hands and knees, on top 
of the litter.

Trap gave Morgan a thumbs up over his head.

The load jerked into the air and immediately started spinning from potential energy
release.

"Easy!" Marco shouted, using Gage's radio that he had tuned to 240 air's pilot
channel. "He's torquing!"

On the stretcher, Thib kept his eyes on the kayaker's slack face, watching
for signs of vomitting due to the likely skull fracture. He tried ignored the
whirling landscape around him.

240 Robert Air's engine groaned in strain, gaining painfully slow inches
in altitude. Wainwright tried to end the line's dangerous spin, with a bob.

Then suddenly, nearby.
Crack!!   Psssffftt!!..  A split, worn telephone pole fell over in a wind gust and 
overstressed its tension wire to the breaking point, its fibers parting in 
high pitched squeals and metal scream, unravelling.

Then the ruptured pole wire zinged like elastic through the air, whipping up
in a violent snap, straight up.  

Its loose end snagged and wrapped, looping around the chopper cable
and snaring it sickeningly in a tight, unyielding grip.

Cap and Lopez gasped in horror, startling, running forward.

Applegate shot his hand mic to his mouth.  "Morgan, hold!" he gasped. 
"Hold, Morgan. Mayday! Mayday! A phone wire's caught on the litter ring.." 
Trap hollered. "Hold hover. Repeat! Hold hover!" 

----------------------------------------------------------------------------
Up on the cliff top, Roy saw the danger, too.  "No!"  Thinking fast, he 
grabbed a rope coil from the ground and tossed it over the cliff away from 
the chopper's path. Then he moved. "I'm going down to free it.." he said,
tying off the end in a fast hitch to one of the rescue jeep's bumpers.

"I'll cover ya." said C.B., grabbing a jacket to protect DeSoto's descent
line from rock rubs. He jammed it under Roy's rope, then he took up
the excess to act as anchor controller.

Skillfully, DeSoto negotiated the cliff and down to a ledge that was only
feet away from where Thib, the litter and the ensnared telephone wire
tangled in the overgrowth.

Gage saw that Roy had disappeared over the edge and he tried to stand 
up. But Ted restrained him where he had Johnny seated in a blower 
heated jeep, sucking on the Res-Q-Air for fast warmth. "No you don't. 
You're out for the count." he told Gage. "Sit!" he ordered, returning the
blanket around Johnny firmly. "You listened to your partner." he complained.
"Why not me?"

"But he's--"

"We're out of it." Cassidy warned Johnny, pinning his elbow so he could 
grab another analyzing blood pressure reading using a stethoscope. 
"Let the others be. Don't distract them!"

"Ted, I can't jus--"

"Do I have to sedate you?" Cassidy insisted.  Johnny moused down, but
not all of his trembling was from cold blood. ::Roy, if you get fouled up,
I'm gonna--:: He jerked in irritation.

"Don't you even think about it." Ted said, lifting his head at an arrythmic bleep
from Johnny's EKG monitor.  

Sighing, in difficulty, Gage finally closed his eyes and was still so he could
concentrate on slowing his breathing under the hot oxygen's mask.

Kelly solved the problem. "I'll go watch for you, pal." he said from 
the truck's driver's seat, where he had been holding Johnny's precautionary 
I.V. setup, getting it ready for Ted to use.

"Thanks, Chet." Johnny coughed.

Chet hung the insulated bag on the truck mirror and took off for the cliff 
top to be a pair of eager eyes.

Ted eyeballed Gage. "90 over 76. So how long were you in the water?"

Johnny blinked, uncertain, groggy. "Uh,....Don't r-remember."

"Never mind. I'll settle for just your temperature." Cassidy said, chuckling,
placing a tympanic reader probe into Johnny's ear. "95.6°F, hero boy. You
just earned yourself a free flight into the E.R."

"...thrilled.."

"Which arm?"

"Huh?"

"For your I.V. Right or left?"

"Left, I think.. uh.. Roy told me once.  B-Better veins."

"Okay.. One D5W. Straight up.. no ice." Ted said, biting off the wrapper.

"Oh, aren't you a funny man."

----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
Out in the wind, trapped, both the chopper, and the litter, jerked.

Thib overbalanced and barely snatched a grip on the edge of the stretcher
with both hands. As a result, his radio fell out of his fingers... and into freefall....

SMASH!  It shattered musically, a nimbus of ruined parts as it destroyed
itself on the sharp rocks.

Trap leaped to a higher rock, gripping his own mic powerfully.
"Thibideaux has lost his radio! Hold your hover as tight
as you can.. I'll direct you! Do you hear me? I'll direct your ascent!"
he yelled at Morgan, far above.

##Agh!  I can't see the litter, Trap. Will act to your instructions...##
Morgan gasped, fighting for flight control and stability.

"Ease down. Just a little. Give him some slack.." Trap transmitted.

Wainwright let go of the power button on the joystick, gingerly..

Applegate held his breath. 
Then he saw the loop they all wanted, begin to sag into the wind. 
"Hold, hold it right there!"

Morgan froze her hand into stone.

"Hold on..... Looking good!" Trap said, as the swayed phone line
was swept right into Roy's reaching hands, on his ledge.

Unseen by the others, and blind to anything below him, Thib decided to 
stand up, unhooking his safety snaffle, in an attempt to flip the phone wire 
off the litter's ring.

A second later, a wind gust picked Roy bodily up by his wire gripping 
hands in an air sweeping arc that lifted both feet off the ground.
That sudden shift of angle and weight totally knocked Thib off his 
precarious perch as the chopper cable swung out from its vertical.

Dwayne tumbled head first off the litter, two hundred feet above the 
ground.

A lucky hand grabbed its smooth plastic edge, arresting his fall 
by only a few fingertips. He grabbed on tight with the other hand desperately,
clenching his teeth hard with the tremendous effort to save himself. 
::What the h*ll was that?:: he wondered, about the odd lurch that had 
toppled him. There Thib dangled, helpless.. muscles straining as his legs 
kicked.

Roy froze in place, suddenly realizing what had happened. He shouted 
a warning to the others in the ravine. "Loose man!"

Applegate ducked, squinting at his target almost lost up in the trees.
Then he saw it, too. "Thib's off the litter! He's hanging on!" yelled Trap 
to Morgan.

Then he saw DeSoto make a frantic cut with a suddenly produced knife
blade to the wire he had pinned under his armpit. 

::Yeah. Yeah..:: Applegate thought. ::That'll work.:: 

The wire strands energetically unravelled, like frayed and broken 
yarn, pinging whines, all the way up the loop.

Then the phone line parted and fell away harmlessly from the chopper's
lifting ring.

240 Robert Air was free.

Applegate practically ate his radio. "And clear! Hit it, Morgan. 
Get them both outta there!"

Like a graceful bird in the sun, Wainright gave herself completely
to the prevailing updraft, and gained healthy height, carrying her 
two living burdens up with her. All the way to the top.

The litter and helicopter disappeared out of sight.

Trap sagged against a boulder, in stark relief. "You did it, Morgan.
You did it." he transmitted. ::Saved them both.:: he sighed mentally.

On the cliff ledge, Roy DeSoto gave him two thumbs up, in victory.

Then, he rested a few seconds bent over his knees, panting hard.  
Soon, Roy refolded up his pocket knife and put it away to begin the 
long climb back up the cliff face.

---------------------------------------------------------------------

Photo: Sarah Collins looking worried.

Photo:  Ranger Captain Paul Carnes, adamant.

Photo: Park ranger riding by on a horse.

Photo: Thib bending over a fainted Johnny.

Photo:  Gage in distress, on his back.

Photo:   Ranger Ted Cassidy (Brice) from Sierra TV series.

Photo: Thib riding up on the chopper litter.

Photo:  A wire tangling the stokes cable pair.

Photo:  Roy climbing down a cliff on a rope, wearing a yellow shirt.

Photo: Thib falling off the stokes stretcher.

Photo:  Trap looking up radioing frantically.

Photo:  Gage, scratched up, on oxygen in a rescue truck cab.

Photo:  Ted Cassidy (Brice) focused close.

Photo:  Trap radioing to Morgan by the stokes stretcher.

**************************************************
Subject: Mop Up..
From:  patti k (pattik1@hotmail.com)  
Sent: Mon 4/13/09 12:05 AM 

**(Portions of the 240 Robert characters' dialogue following is taken 
from the 240 Robert Pilot, Apology. First Aired August 28, 1979 
Writer : John Furia Jr. with Story by Rick Rosner)**

Johnny watched as the others loaded up the kayaker into 240 
Robert Air. They had moved Gage to stand near by the landing area 
so he could join the man for the trip into the park hospital. 

Roy climbed up the rope and jogged his way over to Gage and Ted, 
who was holding Johnny's arm to steady him.

Gage's I.V. was hanging around his neck like a trophy by a bungee cord. 
DeSoto laughed. "Boy, are you a sight for sore eyes."

"I could say the same thing." Johnny said, not letting him take
his pulse at the wrist. "Just what the h*ll happened down there?"

"A wire broke off a pole and snagged the lift cable." Roy told 
him. 

"Bad?"

"Yeah." Roy said. "I had to cut it for them. Fast."

"But..but.. shouldn't that have crashed that chopper the second it got 
fouled up?"

"That's what usually happens when a chopper gets trapped
by ground debris."

"But all that wind..."

"Yeah." 

"And all those trees.."

"Yeah! I know." Roy agreed. "It's a miracle she stayed flying.."

"What a pilot.." Gage sighed, stars in his eyes as he saw Morgan
peek out the flight cabin to watch the others fuss over the kayaker's
stretcher bubble door until they had it locked up snug.

DeSoto teased him about the glazed look in his eye. "Are you
going out on me here?" 

Ted, who was still busy with moving his gear, misinterpreted the
comment and grabbed the back of Gage's neck, thinking he was
fainting again. "Whaa--? I'll catch him!"

Both DeSoto and Gage started laughing and both shrugged Cassidy's
paramedic concerns off. Roy bailed him out. "I meant emotionally.
About a girl Johnny's fixating on over there. He's fine."

Ted let go of supporting Johnny's head a moment later. "Oh. I should've
figured. He did the same thing when he got sweet up on Julie Beck back
at home on your last visit to Sierra." Then he leaned into Johnny's
ear. "Sorry, chum. But that fiery little redhead's taken from what I've 
been overhearing." he smirked.

"Taken?" Johnny gaped in dismay.

"Yeah, I overheard Thibideaux over there ribbing Applegate about a date
those two went on when she first joined the 240 Robert team." Cassidy said
as the three of them watched the kayaker being checked and rechecked
for flight travel safety.

"Oh, yeah?" Johnny grimaced in disappointment. "Well, how long ago was
that?"

"A bit." Ted told him. "But I'm just guessing. I haven't found out how long 240's
been in operation yet. It's only my first day shadowing them." he confessed.

"I might have a real chance, then." Johnny whispered, his boy like grin 
returning.

Roy just shook his head ruefully. "Ah, Gage and his feminist fixation in full
swing. I think he's fully recovered, Ted. A libido's proof positive."

Cassidy's face blanked out in seriousness. His eyes sparkled, mock firm.
"Really? Well I wanna go on playing flight paramedic here. So keep him 
acting sick until after I get us both into the air. I wanna see exactly what that 
sweet little black and white bird can do." Tim said of the chopper.

"Me, too." Johnny smiled, eyeing up the pilot with admiration. "I promise I'll
groan for ya. But just a little." he said. "I wanna keep my eyes open so I
can watch her the whole trip in, so don't authorize a stokes for me. Please?"

"Deal. You'll sit." Ted said, with an eager nod. He wrapped up Gage's still 
active trailing EKG wires and handed Johnny the small monitoring machine 
to carry personally. "Got that? Exercise'll warm you up faster."

Johnny laughed. "Yeah." Then he faked a stagger as he took it. "Ooo, my arm.." 
he kidded. "It's still cold numb."

Ted just ignored him as he kept on watching for the signal from Trap to load up 
Johnny into 240 Robert Air, with impatient, folded arms. 

Roy smirked. "So suck on this. That's what it's for." DeSoto said, re-fastening the 
Res-Q-Air mask over Gage's face from the bag Ted had left by Johnny's feet. 
Then he passed the whole unit off to Gage's free hand and shoulder. "There. 
All snug?" he asked about all his tubes and wires.

"What? Do I look like a pack mule here?" Johnny complained, blowing off
flowery billowing steam curls around the flowing oxygen mask.

"Yep." Roy scoffed good naturedly. "Ted can't carry all that stuff by himself."
Then he moved over to the cliff to help Chet get Cap and Marco out of the ravine 
by using C.B.'s deployed jeep winch and cable.

A few minutes later, the rescue crews were almost ready.
"Okay, easy now. One, Two Three.." said Trap as Thib and C.B. maneuvered
the kayaker's litter onto the flight rack locking pins. 

Hank poked in his head into the bubble. "How's he doing?"

Thib gave him a thumbs up. Stanley matched it in relief, then went to go fetch 
Johnny. Soon, Ted Cassidy and Gage were buckled in the caretaker seats with
Paramedic C.B. Harris monitoring the kayaker's condition continually.

A minute later, the others moved off to let Morgan launch with her four passengers.

"240 Robert Air to Appalchia Central." Wainwright radioed once she was in
the air and safely above the ground winds.

##Central, by.##

"With an ETA of five minutes, I have two medical emergencies, one with head 
and back injuries, multiple fractures. The second with chills and hypotension. The 
first patient is an epileptic." reported Morgan to the ranger base doctor and nurse 
listening in. "We've got I.Vs on both."

By the rescue jeeps, Trap sighed as he re-packed up his med kit. "Have to admit 
it, Morgan. You're one h*ll of a lady.." he said to the silhouette of the chopper 
against the sky as he listened to her radioed out broadcast to the ranger base.

Next to him, wrapping up ropes, Thib smirked. "You know, I really would like to 
hear about those two dates you two went on.."  

"Oh, you would, eh? Well, someday, I will write you a song about it." Applegate 
promised him.

"Well something tells me that there's a little something more to it than that." Thib 
jabbed, probing.

Trap didn't bristle. He finally admitted an observation. "You know, she's pretty 
gutsy. For a girl, she's gutsy."  

"Trap, why don't you go tell her." Thib said simply.

Applegate sighed and then nodded, in appreciation of the truth.

----------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Mike Stoker pulled up in Johnny's land rover. He parked it and got out, rejoining the 
two 240 Robert sheriff paramedics and the rest of the gang who were talking in low 
voices about the next plan of attack concerning Bluebird Five.
"Hey guys, how'd it go?" he asked. 

"Fine. Got him out." Stanley said. "But Gage froze a little taking a swim. We
sent him in with the victim to get warmed back up."

"Boy, were we lucky. I packed up our campsite. Completely. Deer's on the roof."
Stoker told them.

Kelly eyed up the blue tarp tied to the top rack of the land rover. "Well, vacation's
over for us, that's for sure. No steaks tonight."

"Why? Did something else happen?" Mike wondered, spinning around in place to
check out their surroundings.

Stanley answered, very somber. "The park's regular chopper dropped off the
radar on her way here. Chances are good that she crashed. There's a male pilot
and boy on board."

Mike's face filled with concern. "Where abouts?"

"We're working on that." Thib volunteered, spreading out a map that Trap had 
placed onto the hood of one of the rescue jeeps. They weighed it down against 
the building wind with some hasty rocks placed at the corners.

"Appalachia just told us they lost the signal at 46 24.526 -128 03.739 westerly.
But Bluebird Five's transponder ping only puts out a positional once a minute on 
normal setting. If Baxter was going full out for speed, that makes our search radius 
from those coordinates about eight miles in diameter." Trap told Stoker. 

"What's the terrain like in that area?" Mike asked.

"Thick woods and hills. No roads. A few mountain ridges." Thib shrugged.
"Every available ranger's been mobilized on horseback."

"Can we help?" Hank offered. "We work mountains sometimes back at home.
Search and rescue."

Trap angled his head skeptically considering the long sleepless night they 
had already suffered during the cougar's surprise visit. 

Cap read his brain.
"My men and I won't get any sleep tonight either if we walk away from this one."

"Sure." Applegate relented.

"Let's go." Thib said. "I know a fast way to the center of that circle. This road
leads to within a half mile of it. Trap'll drive the other jeep. Everybody follow 
me."

"I'll drive the rover." said Chet, snatching up Cap's hand held radio.
              
"I'll go with you." said Marco, running after him.

Roy looked up. "Cap, why don't you pair up with Thib. I'll go with Trap. That
way, we'll all have a radio. Stoker can you handle that map?" 

"Yeah. Easily. This is just like the one I was looking at when we first registered
in at Park Headquarters." Mike answered.

"Then come with us." DeSoto said. "We'll need a navigator after a while."

Applegate nodded in agreement.

"Everyone, excellent plan. See you there." Stanley replied.

Quickly, the three vehicles convoyed down the road with the first two of them 
suddenly reactivating urgent lights and sirens.

----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Photo:   240 Robert paramedics loading up a patient stokes into a
              chopper.

Photo:   Ted Cassidy ( Brice) watching with another ranger.

Photo:    Roy smirking in relief, wearing a white shirt.

Photo:    Gage frowning, seated, wearing a maroon shirt.

Photo:    Morgan close inside her helicopter in a radio helmet.

Photo:   Morgan's flight seat and stretcher bubble from the outside.

Photo:   240 Robert's Thib in rescue gear and helmet, closeup.

Photo:   Hank and Stoker in hunter camouflage, grinning in fall woods.

Photo:    240 Robert Air landing by rescue jeeps.

Photo:   Thib running by 240 Robert 2, his rescue jeep.

Photo:    Trap, looking worried in a climbing helmet. 

Photo:   240 Robert 2, with its doors open, lights flashing.

**************************************************
Subject: Tears And A Little Hot Water :)
From:  patti k (pattik1@hotmail.com)  
Sent: Tue 4/21/09 12:24 AM 

 
Terri Baxter had to get away. Even before Sarah Collins saddled up on Jodi the 
mule and joined the search party. So the nurse turned rookie ranger escaped
into the forest on her usual horse and wandered onto one of the numerous trails 
winding around Mirror Lake, to sort things out. 

She had really screwed things up royally. ::First, I argued with Joanne about 
the stupid mistake I made during the avalanche mishap. I should have 
shut up. And now, there's this.:: she thought morosely. Terri looked down at 
the opened envelope in her hands. It was a disciplinary action that she had 
gotten from Paul Carnes concerning her risky behavior at the avalanche 
exercise. She was grounded from all snow release outings until further notice.

Strangely, she didn't feel the horrid consternation she thought she would feel
at receiving her first demerital letter. And it was all because of the latest 
emergency crisis to strike the park : Bluebird Five's missing status.
 ::I sure hope that Ken Baxter and little Joey are still okay.:: she hoped.

She still remembered how the charming child and she had first met, earlier in the 
week. Her mind reflected back into a daydream of the moment...

Something fell and hit her on the shoulder. Terri jumped. It was a toy battleship.

"Could you gimme that?" a small voice answered from the pine tree immediately
next to park headquarter's main entrance. Blake smiled, peering into the branches.
"Here you are." And she tossed up the ship into invisible hands. "What's your name?
Are you stuck?"

"It's Joey and no. But I wanna get down before Grandma sees me." 

"Fair enough. I'm coming up to help you." Terri smirked, pulled off her uniform
belt to use as a climbing strap. Soon, she lifted his tiny body off of his branch
and settled him to the ground in a fireman's carry. He regained his feet neatly.
With some spunk, he dusted off his clothes briskly, then extended his hand 
in greeting. "And yours?"

"Mine what?" Blake blinked, still holding the boy's tin of plastic battleships that
had fallen out of his pocket on the way down. She shook his hand right back.

"Your name." he said, taking the tin back respectfully. "I can see that you're a 
ranger by your green and tan clothes."

"Oh, oh, oh. I'm Terri. Terri Blake. It's nice to meet you, Joey."

"It is." he nodded enthusiastically. "I guess anybody that gets me out of a bind is 
a friend. Wanna play?" he said, shaking his tin. "I'm good at board games."

"Sure." Terri agreed.
 

The next few days went by pleasantly, and more and more Terri felt a strange 
bond growing between them. Each morning, boy and ranger would talk in the heliport 
while Terri cleaned equipment and horse tack. Then they'd go horseback riding or
swimming in the lake, depending on the last of the Indian Summer weather.

And almost always, they'd tell stories to each other by the river after lunch. 
Soon, Terri began teaching Joey basic woods know how. Fire building, and sunlight
navigation and food foraging. They had already covered reading disturbed 
moss signs for deer and how to build emergency shelters when a twig snapped 
nearby. Blake looked up into the sunlight.

It was Sarah Collins.

"Oh, Mrs. Collins." Terri said. "I hope you don't mind me watching your grandson
like this. He's actually a lot of fun to be with compared to most of my coworkers."

"Miss Blake, I brought him here to... stretch a little." the old woman said,
skirting specifics. "Keep at it. Joey doesn't seem to mind so why should I? He's
already told me so much about you. So I just had to come out and meet you for 
myself."

Terri grinned, handing Joey another pine bough to add to a practice shelter they
had built next to the parking lot. "He's a charming little boy."

Sarah watched her only grandson sadly. "But a troubled one." she shared.

Blake frowned. "If you don't mind my asking. How so? I mean, he's so happy
and carefree." Terri commented as she watched Joey steer his toy ships around
the landscaped garden's gravel. 

Collins chided a dismissing huff. "He's TOO positive. Haven't you noticed how
protective he is of his navy cap?"

"Uh, huh." Terri answered honestly. "I've asked him about it more than once 
but he always changes the subject every time."

Sarah took Terri's arm and turned her away from where Joey was playing inside
the pine bough lean to. "His father was killed on assignment while aboard the U.S.S.
Intrepid, nine months ago. It happened a few days before Joey's seventh birthday."

"Oh, I'm so sorry." Blake murmured, taking Sarah's hand.

Collins patted Terri's grip reassuringly. "A gasline ruptured and started a fire. Ben
was overcome by flames while trying to save his captain."

Terri hated death and she found herself glancing away to hide unbidden tears as
she studied the sun's rays shimmering on the lazy current in the creek near them.

"They buried my son with the highest of naval honors." Collins concluded.

Blake met her eyes. "And his mother?"

"Carol died when Joey was three and a half, of cancer. Ben and he became very close
during that time. And beyond. Then Ben died and left us both behind." Collins 
whispered sadly.

Terri said the first thing that came to mind. "Your son must have been an admirable man."

Sarah's face furrowed at a memory. "Problem is. Even at the funeral, Joey never cried
a tear. Not even when the sergeant at arms presented him with the flag." Sarah broke off,
hiding her reactions so Joey wouldn't notice. "He should feel something. Anything." she
insisted to Terri, who was listening very close. "Not grieving isn't natural. Therapy hasn't 
helped at all. So I figured bringing Joey back to where he and his father spent their happiest
times couldn't hurt." she grinned. But then she let go of Terri's hand. "Oh, I shouldn't be
dumping all my problems onto you. You probably have enough to worry about already."

"Boy do I." Terri said, wiping away sympathetic tears as she laughed.

The two women talked until the sun peeked through the lower most beech branches
hanging low over the water. Then Collins noticed her watch.

"Oh, my gosh." Sarah exclaimed. "Time to be heading back. Come along Joey dear.
Let's go. We've got to get our beauty sleep if we're departing on that mountain expedition
tomorrow morning."

"Oh, that's right." Terri realized. "I did see your names on the registration form. Funny I
forgot that when it was I who planned out the course."

"Not a problem, Miss Blake. Joey and I like to live simple. Takes a lot for us to be noticed
in most cases. But we'll be ready for you being our guide. We have our tents and horses
already assigned to us. And our camp rations. But I think I forgot to bring one thing from
home. A pillow to sit on afterwards."

Terri giggled. Joey ran up suddenly then and sat down on Terri's lap.

"Hi, kiddo." Sarah, said, ruffling Joey's hair. "Did you have fun out there?"

"Yeah." answered the boy. "I found some deer tracks and I saw a really big 
porcupine over by the birch meadow!"

Sarah's eyes twinkled at Terri. "Oh, really?"

"Uh, huh. And a blue jay, too. He scolded me for getting too close to his nest. 
Let's go, Grandma."

"All right. I'm coming." Sarah said. The three of them got up seconds later 
and headed for the warm lodge.

----------------------------------------------------------------------------
Terri Blake broke out of her reverie and concentrated on the trail in front of her
as her mount placed one careful foot in front of the other in the half frozen mud.
::Oh, Joey. Ken. Be safe. I can't stand it that you're not." she sobbed suddenly.

Her face wet, Terri realized she was getting impatient for operations to begin. 
Blake coughed loudly as she turned her horse around briskly. She thundered back 
to the main lodge's stables and heliport to meet up with Sarah and the rest of the 
park rangers in her search party as fast as she could.

Ten minutes later, Terri and her group, along with Mrs. Collins on Jodi the mule, 
all left headquarters, bound for the deep woods where Bluebird Five lay lost
and buried.

-------------------------------------------------------------------------

Joanne Almsted glanced Johnny's way from where she was quickly
stabilizing the second kayaker for another chopper flight to a larger 
trauma center that could handle all of his extensive injuries that she knew
would require surgical intervention to repair. The skull fracture and expanding
epidural hematoma and the broken spinal vertebrae films were glaring at her from
the illuminated xray shadow box and their chilling abnormalities made her move 
even faster to drill the rest of a set of emergency bore holes into her patient's 
head to relieve his slowly building intracranial pressure.

Gage met her stare from where he lay on his side on a nearby gurney. "Don't waste
a single second on me. You already know how well I'm doing here. He's first
for you and I really mean it this time." Johnny told her, pointing to his very normal 
EKG reading blipping away on his attached monitor. "I'm just V-tachy from hunger
which that I.V., is fixing." he told her pointing to the rapid drip in his I.V.'s chamber.
"No longer shivering..." he said in challenging mock singsong, holding out a level 
hand. "I'm warm enough to wait more than just a little while for treatment."

Joanne ignored his "order", chin gesturing for a nurse to give him a second Dex50 
boost into his intravenous line and another set of heated blankets. "You forget 
I have staff that are extensions of me. I can do both. Marilyn, grab another BP and 
rectal temp on our favorite river swimmer over there will you? I'm almost done 
here." she said, lining up the power drill for another go, a little mischieviousness 
not beyond her. She fought down a very unprofessional grin.

"Hey wait just a doggone minute here.  You don't need to get a core temp on me 
that way!" Gage complained loudly. 

"My E.R. mister. And things are always done my way, medic man." she said levelly. 
"I'm sure Marilyn will draw the curtains to protect your sudden sense of modesty. See
 you in a few minutes.." she said, waggling her blood stained gloved fingers clownishly.
"..for our appointed date." she said, snapping off one of her gloves dramatically to throw 
it neatly into a biohazard waste bin. Half the sparkle of anger in her eyes wasn't feigned.

Gage sighed and dropped his tired head back onto the pillow in frustration as the nurse
drew the cubicle divider shut around them. "I can refuse any treatment I like, Ms. Doctor. 
I think I'm an expert on my own rights as a conscious patient after six years working 
as a para-- WhoOOO!" he ansed, feeling a deft petroleum slicked probe as it found 
its mark. 

"Hold still." Marilyn warned sternly as she took Gage's temperature.

Just then a crack in the curtain appeared. It was Morgan Wainright with a question
for Dr. Almstedt. "Say doc, where are you? The nurses out front said you were just
about ready for me to relaunch with..  oh myYY.. Too much information.." Morgan
quailed, wincing, and covering her eyes after she beheld Johnny's bare tush.

"Ever heard of knocking first?" Johnny said, throwing a blanket over both nurse
and his rear end. He flushed nine shades of red in all four cheeks.

Marilyn just rolled her eyes and unburied her head with a look of long suffering.
"I take it you really like these two women?" she guessed. 

"Do you mind?" Johnny glared at his caretaker.

Wainwright regarded him with a serious, curious, tilted but still self blinded 
expression. "Really? Me and Joanne? That's funny because Terri Blake told 
me she thought you were hitting on just her a few days ago something really 
fierce." Morgan said. "Is he decent?" she asked, her leather covered hands 
still shielding her eyes.

Nurse Marilyn answered acidly. "Don't know. The vote's still out on that one."

"Hey! I'm actually a really nice guy. Just ask my other friends when they get here."
Gage said defensively, snubbed on the barely veiled nurse's insult. "Yes, I'm
covered." he finally groused.

Wainwright pulled her gloves away from her eyes.
"Tell you what, Mr. Gage. I like what I've seen already." winked Morgan. Then 
she disappeared behind the fabric, leaving Johnny behind, gaping like a fish out
of water.

"She.. she uh- w-.." the stunned paramedic patient sputtered.

"Breathe, fireman. I'm finally done." announced Marilyn at last, eyeballing the
thermometer she had just retrieved from its blanket covered target area. 
"Hmmm. 96. Still a little cool."

"No, she's hot. And she's interested!" Johnny celebrated, grinning lopsidedly.

----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Photo:    Terri Blake, smiling gently in the dark.

Photo:    Joey Collins, beaming in daylight.

Photo:    Grandma Sarah Collins, content, outside.

Photo:    Joanne Almstedt, grinning like a banshee.

Photo:    Gage, wearing a cannula, embarrassed.

Photo:    Morgan with a huge sh*t eating grin.

Photo:   Marilyn the grumpy nurse from Snakebite.

**************************************************  
Subject: Message from the Sky 
From:  patti k (pattik1@hotmail.com)  
Sent: Fri 5/22/09 2:12 AM 

Birds were the first thing that entered Ken Baxter's awareness. Then
came the pain. 

"Ahhh!!" he grimaced, folding up his limbs from where he lay on his
side on dusty bare ground matted thickly with fall rotting pine needles.

A branch was cutting into his throat, where it had been pinned awkwardly
from the way the pilot had landed after slicing himself free of his seatbelt
harness.

Desperately, Ken tore it away, and gasped when a strong odor choked him.
::Fuel. The chopper's leaking.:: he thought dimly. ::Got... to get aw--:: Then
another horrid thought came to light. ::Joey! Did he make it out, too?:: he
wondered frantically.

Keeping as still as he could for the moment, Baxter moved just his head,
palms and elbows as he craned about, searching for the boy who had been 
his passenger. "Joey?!" he yelled, his voice echoing through the tiny, deeply
shadowed valley gorge into which they had fallen.

There was no reply. Grunting, and breathing hard, Ken located the most 
concentrated pile of crash debris that had fallen from Bluebird Five still 
suspended eight feet up the ancient pine tree. It had saved them from 
a full ground impact. He rolled over and began to crawl, belly and elbows, 
back to the patch of wet dirt that lay directly under line-of-sight with the 
upside down suspended helicopter cockpit. 

Pure agony in his abdomen and upper leg stopped him a foot short of his goal. 
Glancing down, Ken saw a dark red wetness staining his jeans and something
white. ::I don't want to know what the h*ll I've done to myself now.:: he panted,
resting his forehead on trembling, pine needle gouged hands. But inwardly, he knew 
that sickening pale glint, might possibly be bone showing through torn skin. ::Oh, 
lordy. That'd better be metal or something and not a snapped-in-two thigh. Don't 
want to... bleed to death out here like a stuck pig in front of the boy.:: he fervently 
wished.  "Joey! Answer me!" he shouted again, peering up into the remnants of
the chopper hanging overhead.

Nothing answered him but the wind and birds, trickling down to Ken in the feeble
sunlight under the pine trees. 

Moaning and stifling a cry of pain, Ken peeled off his pants belt and tightened it
anew around his injured leg above the hideous wound he didn't want to see. Immediately,
the thick and sluggish hemorrhaging slowed and the numbness and tingling increased.
"Joey, I need you to make some noise, real loud. I can't find ya!" Baxter gasped, reeling 
from a growing shock that was seeping inexorably into his awareness. "You're gonna 
haveta lead me to--" he broke off, recognizing a bright bit of blue and pink stripes lying 
underneath a shattered rotor blade, mostly covered in chewed up pine needles. 
"Joey?!" Ken yelled.

Having tended the worst on himself as best he could, Baxter dragged himself cautiously
around pools of still drip accumulating aviation fuel over to the half buried shirt he had
spotted. "I've found you, boy! Move for me!"

Ken saw a caked hand poke itself out of the leaf litter feebly followed by a small
cough. ::He's breathing!:: Baxter celebrated mentally.

Baxter got to Joey's side and uncovered his face and neck where he lay on his
stomach. The Collins boy was only half awake and straining to draw breaths in
occasionally. "Easy now, son. I think you just got the wind knocked out of ya after 
we both bailed out of our seats."

Joey struggled, beginning to panic. Baxter sat up painfully, curled over his swollen
leg. He tipped back Joey's head after rolling him over onto his back. "Relax, just relax. 
That band around your middle gut will go away mighty quick now that you're fully awake. All 
right? Just look at me right in the eyes and concentrate on loosening up that gut cramp.
You're fine. Okay? Just breathe as it comes." Joey's bright, frightened eyes took in Ken's
bruised ones and finally Joey didn't look away as the boy gripped both of Ken's wrists in a
tight grip of fear.

A thin, full inhalation rewarded both boy and pilot as Collins ceased to panic under Ken's
warm hands that were cushioned around his face. "Oh, G*d.." Joey sobbed, as first words 
of speech finally escaped his lips. "That really sucked r-*gag*" he coughed. 

"Yeah? But we're alive and not smeared all over the mountainside. Good job unbuckling 
your harness. But we're not done yet. We're still in danger. The fuel tank's compromised."

"And we might be barbeque if we don't.. Hey, you're bleeding.." Joey worried, sitting up 
stiff and sore, with Ken's help against a piece of chopper hull. 

"Not anymore. At least not much." Ken gasped. "Banged up my leg among other things.
You hurt at all?"

Joey patted himself. "My ribs, a little."

"Where? Right there?" Ken asked, probing the boy's left side under his shirt.

"Umph.. yeah. I heard something crack when I hit the ground."

"No holes." Ken pronounced, looking at the large bruise he had found there.

"Nope, I don't think so. Dad used to say, last thing I'd want, is to be making 
noise through a new mouth in the rib cage after any fall." 

"Your dad was a smart cookie, son. A collapsing lung is nothing to shake a stick at."

Joey sighed, freezing in place, remembering something emotionally painful.  
But then he began gingerly picking at the pants material around Ken's hidden injury. 
"We've got to tend this." he warned. 

The pilot stopped him when agony erupted. "I don't want to know."

"But..."

"Call it a mental thing." Ken said more firmly.

The Collins boy studied Ken's gray and sweaty face, analyzing.
"All right. At least it's covered." Joey told him, drawing his hands away. "So let's get out
of here. I think I saw some of the cargo bay stuff land over there. Might be blankets
and our packed food close by."

"Most likely. We'll grab them and a container for water. There's a creek down at the very
bottom fifty yards that way. Saw it shining earlier." Ken told him.

Joey looked up fearfully at the wind shivering, mangled chopper still hanging in
their very lucky lone giant of a pine tree. "Any chance she'll explode?"

"Nah, I turned all her power systems off. Let's just not play boy scouts with any matches 
until we're well away from her." Ken joked, trying to grin for Joey through his pain. "We'll
make a signal fire for smoke later that doesn't risk her spilled Jet A-1. Only thing that'll set
her off is static from friction."

"You mean from all this wind and rubbing branches on her hull?"

"It's possible. Something we can't overlook. Pine sap's highly conductive. So let's hurry."

Slowly, Joey helped Ken drag himself out of flammable ground cover a long distance 
away from the chopper's tree. He found a smooth, sunheated rock table in between 
two bus sized boulders to use as a shelter out of the afternoon's cooling winds.

"Here." Collins told the dazed pilot. "This place's warm. I'll head back for our stuff."

Ken gasped. "Look sharp for a hand held radio. We had two stowed
in the back on a rack. They may have been tossed out with us." he murmured weakly,
sagging mentally against his will. "And be c-careful." 

"I will." Joey said, heading back cautiously, exactly the way they had come.

---------------------------------------------------------------------------
The searchers had gathered their horses into a circle in the parking lot in
front of the park's headquarters. They all had radios and rescue packs with
them, along with an emergency shelter, and heavy terrain tools. 

They all watched 240 Robert Air land, freshly back from her return trip delivering
the second kayaker to a surgical hospital further down the coast on Long Island.
Morgan Wainwright leaped from the chopper and met the group to learn what
channel through which they were going to operate.

"Here. We'll be on Channel Two!" Ranger Ted Cassidy said, reaching down 
from his borrowed horse to hand Morgan her own handy talkie. "It's a fresh battery."

"Thanks. I got here as fast as I could." said Morgan, taking it from his glove. 
"Where am I going to start my search grid?"

C.B. Harris told her. "Dispatch says Bluebird's transponder signal was last received
at 46 24.526 -128 03.739 westerly."

"I'll set those coordinates on my GPS." Wainwright said, waving quickly as she 
dashed back to her helicopter to take flight. "Don't worry. I'll find them. Just 
keep looking for anything abnormal that can't get above the treeline. Chopper 
debris, the smell of fuel on the wind, black fire smoke. There's a possibility
I won't be able to spot them from the air."

"Will do!" Cassidy shouted back, watching her jog away.

240 Robert Air took off in a flurry of dust and noise as she angled nimbly towards
the sun and the vast expanse of unbroken orange tinted forest and pine groves
flanking the slopes of the Appalachians surrounding Park Headquarters.

When she had gone, Blake swept up her arm urgently.
"Okay, fan out everybody!"  said Terri to the others. "We already lost enough 
time ironing out our plans. Both of 240 Robert Ground's rescue jeeps and
a team of off duty firefighters from California are already almost to the center 
of the search area. Our job is to cover the perimeter and work our way in to them
from as many points around the outer circle as we can."

Next to her, on Jodi the mule, Sarah Collins sucked in her breath. "Are they so sure
Joey's helicopter crashed?"

"It's more than likely, Sarah. I'm sorry." Terri told her. "There's been no response 
on radio from Ken Baxter, our pilot, nor has there been any sign of Bluebird Five's 
signature. That means she's dropped off radar--"

"..below the trees.." Collins quailed. "Oh, Joey." she whispered fearfully as Terri
took the reins of her mule to begin a leading gallop from her horse after the other
searchers already moving full speed into the forest.

--------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
Ken Baxter lay gasping in a half daze when the edge of a thick wool blanket
landed on his face as Joey hurriedly threw it over his shivering body. "Ooff."
he said.

"Sorry. But you're going into shock. How's that bleeding doing?" the worried boy
asked him. 

"D--Don't know." Ken said. "I can't feel my leg anymore..." he whispered weakily.
"Did you find them?"

"What?"

Baxter winced and closed his eyes in mild frustration. "The radios."

"No. They must be still up there with the rest of the chopper." Collins shared
quietly.

Ken actually felt tears of stress start to well up as he began to realize the 
seriousness of his injury. "Oh, that's not good. I was kinda hoping for.."
he broke off as a sudden spasm gripped his thigh in a white hot vice grip.
"AHHHH!" he screamed. 

Joey held his shoulders and tucked the blanket he had found even tighter
around Ken's body and head. "Easy. Think that's broken?" he asked in 
a frightened voice.

"I'm really sure of it now..." the pale pilot grimaced, in intense pain. "Fun and
games initial shock vacation's over.." he strained, trying to suck in a full breath.
The hot stone face he lay on suddenly made Baxter feel vaguely nauseated 
and very detached after the sickening dance of his bone torn muscles had 
ended. "Man, I really want to pass out." the pilot choked. "Now would be nice." 
Ken said. 

"No, no, Ken! Please stay awake!" Joey minced with fear, uncertain. "Don't leave 
me out here all alone." he sobbed, suddenly losing his first aider's confidence.

Something about the boy's aching intimate plea communicated itself to Ken.
:: Wow.:: Ken thought. ::Is Collins, Jr. finally unwalling his pent up stress 
about his father's death?::

Baxter opened his eyes with a sudden clarity. "Hey.." he whispered. "Joey, I'm not 
following your father's past here. I don't plan on dying any time soon no matter 
what current cards I've been dealt, so don't fret any. It's bad for business." he said, 
trying to smile. "If you'll let me, I've got a little confession to share with you about 
your dad Ben."

Joey's eyes got very large and a shocked expression filled his face as he was
caught totally off guard. "How did you know my dad's name?"

Sighing shakily, Ken spoke again, wiping cold sweat from his forehead. "Help me sit 
up, son. We'll dig through all the survival stuff you got back for us to see what we've 
got to work with first, and then I'll let you in on that something I haven't told you yet
that your grandmother thought you weren't ready to learn."

Joey just sat there, frozen, as emotionless tears began to fall actively down his 
face. One of his hands subconsciously reached for the place his navy cap would 
have been had it not been lost in the crash, to adjust its missing, but still strangely 
felt, bill. "What secret?" he simpered, tears flooding his eyes, suddenly unchecked. 
"I want to know what it is...   Now..  I... I can't stand it.." he cried angrily.

Gasping, struggling, Baxter managed to get against hot rock, supported upright.
"Come here, son. I won't bite." Ken said, beckoning with a gesture to deliver a hug. 
"I'll try my best to be stronger for the both of us." he promised. "Believe me, your 
father would have expected and wanted it that way.  All right. I'll tell you. Ben and I 
were best friends, Joey. I was there that day, when it happened. And I have a 
message for you. From your dad. It was the last thing he ever said."

Sighing, totally overcome, Joey fell forward into Ken's gentle, open arms. It was
the first time that he had accepted anyone's embrace, since his father had died. 
"Tell me it." Joey whispered into Ken's ear. "What he said. I've wanted to hear 
from him again for such a long, long time." he said, letting his full, no longer hidden
grief flow heavily from his eyes.

Ken trembled and closed his eyes. He didn't have to imagine the memory of Ben's
fire ravaged face where he lay on the bridge of explosion seared navy ship. The horror
of knowing that death was approaching had numbed him then. But the sunny, warm
scent of Joey's hair comforted him now and gave the badly wounded pilot his courage
to face that moment again. "He said, 'If you remember what we were, how we lived, 
you will find life again. Now, I'll live in you. And in all whom you will encounter when
you'll tell them of us, my darling.' "

Baxter let go as the phantom memory of Joey's father's voice left him and he felt 
himself starting to black out. But he didn't fall. He was caught by two tiny hands
that supported his head as he was lowered swiftly, but carefully, back to the ground.

Joey looked up into the sky, and smiled. "Thank you, Dad. I love you."

------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Photo: Ken lying in mud, in pain.

Photo: Joey Collins, looking frightened.

Photo:   Ken trapped under chopper debris on his back.

Photo:  Joey, crying, hugging Ken Baxter, the pilot.

Photo:   Park rangers on horses in a meadow.

Photo:   Morgan Wainwright of 240 Robert heading for her chopper.

Photo:  240 Robert Air doing an aerial search above forestland.

Photo:  240 Robert Ground radioing ahead for search communications
             with a chopper flying overhead.

Photo:  A setting sun over a steep, rugged pine forest near dusk.

Photo:   Navy cap, bearing the name U.S.S. Intrepid and a gray ship emblem.

**************************************************
Subject: Mule Tidings -- Part One Finale... 
From:  patti k (pattik1@hotmail.com)  
Sent: Thu 5/28/09 3:15 PM 

Hank Stanley kept his grip on the cherry flare he held away from
his body as he walked slowly through the woods, calling for the pilot
and the boy.  He could see the bright red blooms of other flares from
ones that Chet, Marco, Mike and Roy were holding as they moved 
in a line down valley, spread out over a quarter of a mile. Their voices
rang out, but no replies returned. ::Eight miles round is a big area to
cover. :: he thought.  Cap readjusted the rescue pack on his back
and kept going.
 
Falling shadows of late afternoon made it difficult to see anything out
of the ordinary. Twenty minutes earlier, a false alarm had been raised
over a half foot piece of metal and rivets found but the park rangers confirmed 
that the find had actually been from a plane crash that had occurred ten years
ago on the ridge above them.  Heavy rust on the bottom side of the shard
had proved a very aged condition.  Deheartened, the Station 51 crew just 
nodded and got back to searching and scanning the tree tops for damage
or smoke.
 
Cap walked alongside Terri Blake's horse briefly to ask her a few questions.
"How good of a pilot is your friend? Maybe that'll have a bearing on where he
might have chosen to go down. If he knew the area well, he may have aimed 
for an open spot." he suggested to the Ranger R.N. 
 
Terri looked down from the saddle, her face set in lines of worry. "Paul Carnes
says he's one of the best. An ace pilot from Nam. These woods are his playground.
He could tell you his coordinates just by the pattern of trees and hills he saw below
him from the cockpit. Sir, if Ken Baxter had any place to land, he would have found
it.  Dwayne Thibideaux and Trap Applegate have already checked all the clearings
they know about. Bluebird Five's not in any of them."
 
"She's down in heavy cover then." Hank sighed.
 
Blake just studied her hands as she rein guided her horse over logs and fallen 
leaf drifts and didn't answer.
 
Morgan's voice piped down through Terri's handy talkie. ##You know, guys. I've 
been thinking.## she radioed from 240 Robert Air. ##Ditching over land's far 
different than ditching over water. If Ken had wind problems, there would be 
only one thing he could have done to save that chopper.##
 
Blake thumbed her toggle switch. "And what would that be?"
 
##What else do you do when you're being flung around in a fast current? You 
find an anchor.## Wainwright suggested.
 
Cap's eyes lit up eagerly. "A high tree, sticking up out of the forest. A kind with 
broad branches.." he said, thinking.
 
Terri got excited. "White pines, Morgan! Eagles nest in them all the time for 
their accessibility. They stick up out of the trees sometimes up to twenty feet 
higher than the rest of the forest."
 
##Islands in the sky. ## Morgan agreed.
 
"He must have done that. I know he did! He's teased me enough about landing 
on top of one enough times when I'm flying with him." Terri said. She turned up 
the gain on her radio. "Blake to all search parties. Concentrate on searching out 
all the lone sentinel white pines in your grid. Bluebird Five may have used one of 
them to get out of the air if she was in rotor distress."
 
##Roger.##
      ##Will do.##
##I'm heading west to the ridge tops.## came the many replies on her 
communications band.
 
##I know where the nearest one is to me.## said Paramedic Deputy Thib, adding 
more. ##It's huge, like a tower, stuck in a creek valley. I'm heading there on foot, 
leaving the jeep on the road to mark my position. My GPS is on. I'm about a mile 
away from it. ##
 
Terri's eyes reflected hope, glistening with tears. "10-4."
 
Chet angled up to Terri, on foot, flanking her horse on the opposite side of 
Cap. "Uh, not to sound dumb. But what does a white pine look like?"
 
"Like that." Terri said, pointing a casual finger over her shoulder behind her at 
a tall majestically sweeping pine tree on the highest ridge top that was crowned 
with the silhouette of a pair of thermal hovering bald eagles as they hunted for 
prey above the aerie they had built in it. "Eagles are always over every one of 
them." she replied. "Those pine trees are their take off platforms. And dang it all, 
Ken probably borrowed his joke stunt idea from them just to scare the life out of 
me back then. He's sure doing a pretty good job of it scaring me now."
 
"We'll find them." Cap told her. "Now that our searching is narrowed down to 
specific points. We'll find them for sure."
 
"I hope we do, before darkness sets in." said Sarah, on the mule. "Tonight's 
forecasted to be below freezing again before dawn." 
 
----------------------------------------------------------------------------
 
Joey heard a groan behind where he was fanning out smoke with a broken 
pine bough from their signal fire, up into the growing darkness. 
 
"...ohhh."
 
"Mr. Baxter?!" shouted Joey. He hastily dropped the stick he was using to stir 
up more hot embers and scrambled quickly into the ring of the fire's light where 
the injured pilot lay rolled onto his side under a thick layer of blankets and a wool 
sleeping bag. "How are you feeling?"
 
Ken didn't say anything for several breaths. When he opened his eyes, they were
swollen and blood red. Joey saw that he couldn't focus on his face at all, so he
took Ken's damp hand into his own and squeezed it.
 
Baxter slowly raised his eyebrows. "I'm not gonna lie to you, kid. But I think I'm
on the "d" side of "bad.""
 
Collins was distraught. "What did I miss?" he asked urgently. "I stopped your leg's
bleeding. Covered you up. I- I got treated water boiling for chicken broth for us. I
even added sugar!" he minced nervously. 
 
"Joey.."
 
"I treated your shock as best I could, Mr. Baxter."
 
"Joey.."
 
"So why aren't you getting better!" the boy panicked. "You're still so cold."
 
Ken sighed for the boy's benefit and squeezed the child's tiny hand right
back. "I'd be an easy fix if I were just a singed steak. But this leg of mine's trying
its best to be ground beef. Hamburger's hard to heal right away."
he joked, trying to ease Joey's worry. "So if I don't cook right, it's not your fault.
I'll always be grateful.. that you d-did the best you could." the pilot whispered.
 
"Don't say that." Joey cringed, not wanting to think of the pilot actually dying.
 
"Have to. Because it's true." Ken said simply, pursing his cracked lips. "You're
saving my ever living sorry *ss butt."
 
Joey looked down at where his hands clutched Ken's nearest bigger one.
"Not very well." he sniffed, new tears beginning to fall.
 
Ken sensed the boy's mood changing over to despair. "It's okay to be afraid, 
kid. Let's face it. I'm pretty scary looking cold cuts here. But you did your
job just fine, I'm wrapped up all nice and snug for delivery. Now all we gotta
do is wait for our flying people chefs to arrive to turn me into their one of a kind 
daily special."
 
The Collins boy smiled bravely, but he couldn't laugh. He tried to help Ken some 
more, answering a deeper instinct. "Are you getting hungry? I think our soup's
just about ready."
 
"I think I'll pass. My stomach probably couldn't handle it." Ken said, thinking about
how much his current nausea might grow in the future. "How long was I out?"
 
"Almost fifteen minutes. Did you get those black eyes from hitting your head?"
 
"No. I-I might have gotten them because something squeezed me around my 
waist too tight for a few seconds. Might have been my seatbelt riding up after we 
crashed. I got ... something... burning deep inside my abdomen where it slipped."
 
"How far did the belt go?"
 
"Up to my armpits."  Ken felt his neck and found that it had been bound loosely in
gauze wrap. "I remember hanging by them until I released the belt harness's chest 
catch. But I think this neck scraping was from a branch. Is it bad?"
 
"No, looks like road rash." Joey replied. "It's already dried up. How's your leg?"
 
"Numb. What color is it?"
 
"I can't tell. It's too dark down here in this gorge." Joey said, peeling away the 
blankets from around it.
 
"It's okay, I can feel the chill on my toes. See? They're probably steaming." he said, 
wiggling them.
 
"Hardly." Joey re-buried the foot and leg. 
 
"I was joking."
 
"Well, I'm not in the joking mood." Joey told him, no nonsense. "I'm feeling helpless
being trapped like this."
 
"Why? They know just about where we went down. So we're not lost. You got a fire going
for heat and light. With food." he emphasized. "It's not raining so we really don't need
any shelter yet. We're doing really great according to my book."
 
"Well great's not good enough. We can't signal to them anymore. The sun's gone down
and these trees are too thick to let any firelight or smoke through to the sky."
 
"So light a bigger fire." Ken suggested, closing his black and blue eyes tiredly.
 
"What? That's crazy! There are too many dead leaves lying around. I don't want to
start a wildfire in all this wind." Joey told him. "No way, am I going to burn any Bambis."
said the boy in no uncertain terms.
 
"All right. That's okay. I can see that. " Ken blinked, blurrily. "Well, no I can't, but 
you're the man in charge of camp and who am I to argue with the voice of reason? 
I'm just the patient here. Well, guess we have just one option left available to us then."

"And what's that?" Joey snapped, feeling irritable.
 
"We wait." Ken said simply. "Seems your first plan's really the best one after all."
he concluded, winking a bruised, fat eye. He pulled up the blankets around his shoulders 
more snugly to sleep.  
 
Joey's mouth flopped open in sheer amazement at how he had been maneuvered 
into feeling okay again about their current situation. He was struck mute.
 
But not the pilot. 
"Oh, and keep any bugs from landing on my face, would ya? I hate em."
 
--------------------------------------------------------------------------------
Dwayne Thibideaux was getting frustrated. He radioed back yet again over
the search party channel. "Nothing here at this one either. I'm adding these GPS
coordinates in red as already searched. My next target tree is up the ridge over 
Diamond Valley Gorge."  he radioed, exasperated. "I wonder why we don't have 
a map and a count of how many nest pines are actually in the park? Kind of important, 
don't you think, with the bald eagle being our national bird?" he said to the others 
on their channel.
 
##Lack of funding.## said Paul Carnes from Park Headquarters through the base
station. ##Much easier counting campers. They generate the direct revenue for us.
Our eagles are just window dressing in our legislators' eyes.##
 
"Yeah, well having that information now might help save two lives." Thib fidgetted as
he hiked.
 
Ranger Carnes mused a bit, then he transmitted an idea. ##I'll call the local birding
club. They might know every stick in those hypothetical nests better than they know the
backs of their own hands.##
 
##It's worth a shot.## Roy DeSoto replied into the band from where he, Stoker
and Trap Applegate were hiking along a nearby ridge adjacent to Thib's. 
 ##Cutting a few corners may speed up the ground we can cover before full darkness 
hits.##
 
##That'll definitely help me.## replied Morgan from 240 Robert Air. ##I can search all
marked coordinates that they could possibly have squirrelled away, in minutes.
Eight miles round is not a very big area from a helicopter pilot's perspective. ##
 
Paul Carnes got right on it, reaching for the phone.
 
--------------------------------------------------------------------------------
Johnny Gage was watching the news from his hospital bed. He had long since put
two and two together that the missing helicopter in the park being reported 
was actually Bluebird Five.  He was getting antsy for the search teams as he heard
more and more details about the weather forecast for the evening. ::No snow, but
more winds? And cold? Not good.:: he thought.
 
He jumped when there came a knock on his door.
 
"Ah, geez. Come in.. I'm decent.." said Gage, throwing a sheet over his legs 
that were still sticking out of the hospital gown. He put a scowl onto his face in
case it was Marilyn the nurse coming to take his vital signs again.
 
A head peeked through the cracked door. It was Joanne Almstedt. 
 
Instantly Johnny brightened. "Oh, hiya Miss Doc, Uh, I mean Joanne. How's our
patient doing?"
 
Joanne rolled her eyes around the room and shrugged. "Fine? I.V.'s DC'd. Your core
temp's back to normal. So's your B.P." she ticked off on her fingers, surprised that a 
seasoned paramedic would be asking her that kind of question about himself.
 
"I meant the second kayaker.." Gage said, fluttering a few fingers to clarify.
 
"Oh, he's still in surgery. Prognosis is, uh..." she hesitated, thinking about
confidentiality.
 
Gage rescued her. "...still out to lunch.. I can just imagine." Johnny sighed, 
growing serious. "He was pretty out of it out there."
 
"Yeah.." Joanne said, equally crestfallen. "Let's hope my meatball surgery 
made a difference for him."
 
"It did." Gage told her seriously. "He'd be dead by now if you hadn't've released
all that intracranial pressure. He was posturing."
 
Joanne came the rest of the way into the room and leaned up against a chair
set along a wall, smiling ruefully as she crossed her arms. "It's so weird talking 
medicine with a patient and getting a dose of it right back at me."
 
"You're welcome." Gage grinned. "And I really mean that. I know how hard it is
making crack decisions in the field about treatment. Back at home, we don't
always have a perfect communications link with our hospital at times."
 
Joanne nodded. "All those arroyos and canyons."
 
"Yep. It sucks whenever you're in a low spot on a call."
 
"What about your physician's standing orders?"
 
"We don't have any. Well, not yet anyway. Maybe soon though. Brackett's
talked about cutting us loose one of these days." he chuckled. "Speaking of
which, am I free to go?"
 
"You mean, free as in released from the hospital?"
 
"No, I mean free to go out on a date with you sometime before the end
of the weekend. Because then, we have to truck out to the airport to learn a new 
kind of firefighting."
 
"Platonically? Then it's a yes, Mr. Gage. I think we both have some bad air to
clear up."
 
"Ahh.." Johnny sighed. Gage mimed being shot to the heart. "There's that word again."
 
"What? Platonically? Or is it actually hearing a 'yes' answer that's making you feel faint?"
Joanne winked from around her clipboard.
 
"You figure it out." Johnny said, challengingly.
 
"Get dressed. You've been sprung. I have...." she said, looking at her wrist watch, 
"..exactly forty five minutes before my night shift begins. And the park cafeteria is 
open now twenty four hours for all the search parties and state agencies moving in."
 
"I'm gone.." Gage said, leaping out of bed and making a dash for where Marilyn the 
nurse had hung his camping clothes in the bathroom.
 
Joanne politely shielded her eyes from the open flaps of Gage's gown fluttering as
he ran by her. "Don't you ever tie anything?"
 
"Ropes. Really well. But not gowns. They leave irritating crease marks." Johnny said,
slamming the door behind himself. The door opened and he peeked out at his doctor.
"Be right back in thirty seconds. Nobody dresses faster than a firefighter." he smiled 
lopsidedly, excited. He slammed the bathroom door shut again and soon, Joanne
heard muffled changing noises and bangs as he hurried.
 
Under her breath, Joanne muttered. "Bet it's not faster than what a certain lady helicopter 
pilot can't undo." she chuckled under her breath. "Morgan, he's a good one. I'm jealous.
Too bad I'm already taken."
 
--------------------------------------------------------------------------------
 
Joey was snoozing fitfully on a bed roll under a blanket when he heard a 
disturbance. "Ken?"
 
Ken Baxter shot bolt upright when the muscles around his broken leg leaped 
again in another series of uncontrollable spasms. He screamed as sickening
sensation returned in blinding, white hot pain that shot through his 
entire body like a lightning bolt from his groin to his teeth.
 
Unthinking, Ken grabbed at his pants leg over the deep, cratered
wound under the bandages in panic, and bumped an elbow against a 
sharp bone end by accident. His screaming cut off instantly as a new wave 
of choking agony gripped him cruelly. Ken fell back down to the ground 
onto his back in a contorted knot of limbs, twitching in unbelievable torment.
 
"Mr. Baxter? What's wrong?" Joey yelled. "Lie still!"
 
"Cramps! In my leg! AHHHHhhh!"
The weakened pilot felt something critical tear deep inside. An answering fountain 
of blood, hot and coppery, began to spurt out of a newly opened gash in the thigh 
around a clearly snapped femur shaft. Trembling, the pilot tried to suppress 
the overwhelming flood with both hands, trying to sit up. "W-What did I do?"
he panted.
 
"Ken! Don't move!" Joey shouted. "A big vessel's been cut!"
the boy shouted. Joey scrambled over to Baxter as fast as he could with
a bundle of rags he had found. He pressed them against the cratered gouge
in a ring around the stained bone that was jutting up from newly pale,
colorless skin with all of his strength, but blood still shot out and into the air 
around his pressing pile of cloth. 
 
The pilot noticed the jet of red escaping from between Joey's hands.
""Oh, no.. G*d, no. Please. Not like this.. I don't want to die like this.." Ken
wheezed as the cramps fled from a sudden lack of circulation. "Joey, you gotta
help me more. This is real bad." he gagged. "Killing bad.."
 
"I know."
Yelling in fear, the boy twisted around and spied a football sized boulder next 
to him. He grunted, hefting it up into two hands with effort, against his chest. 
"I'll stop it, Ken. Hold still. I found something real heavy."
 
Ken's head nodded, but then Joey saw him sag onto the ground as shock began
to take the pilot's consciousness again as his blood pressure bottomed out from 
the effects of the stabbed artery. The boy saw a large pool of red rapidly 
spreading out from the sleeping bag and running into the dirt surrounding their fire.

With fast desperation, Joey moved the bulk of the stone over the groove between 
Ken's upper leg and lower abdomen. Then he let it drop. The rock immediately 
nestled onto a pressure point neatly, shutting off the flow of blood to the rest of
the leg farther down. The hideous spray of gore from the thigh, ceased instantly.

His hands wet, dripping, and sticky, Joey gaped in surprise.  
 
"I got it Mr. Baxter. You're not bleeding from your leg any more!" Collins said,
carefully studying the large stifling stone sitting on Ken's body. Then he slid his 
hands down lower and lifted up the soaked rags over the spasm shifted fractured 
bone to double check. But the new large wound was quiet of any flow. "Now 
I'm sure I've got it stopped again. How does it feel to you?"
 
But the pilot didn't answer from where he lay sprawled on his back.
 
The boy looked up at Ken's face. It was lax and turning dark. Ken's sudden stillness 
began to terrify Joey. "Mr. Baxter? Can you hear me?!"  He crawled over to
the pilot's head and bent an ear down over his nose and mouth, laying a hand on 
his chest. 
 
It wasn't moving. Nor did he hear the sound of air passing in and out of Ken's lips.

"Ken?!" the boy shouted. Remembering more scouts training that he and his dad 
had long practiced, Joey took a hold of Baxter's face and tipped his chin up to clear
the tongue from the back of Ken's throat.  Then once more, the boy listened.
 
The pilot wasn't breathing.
 
"..oh, no.." the boy sobbed softly. He blocked off Baxter's mouth with the flat of
his palm and then he blew the largest breath of air he could in through Ken's nose. 
The man's chest rose only a little, but it was enough. A few breaths later, Ken's 
features pinked up as the pilot's thready heart began to faintly circulate the oxygen 
that Joey offered. "Ken!" the boy cried. "Wake up! You gotta breathe on your own.
I can't keep doing this. I'm gonna get tired. You're almost too big for me to help." 
he gasped in between his attempts to keep Baxter's lungs filling. "Ken? Breathe!"
 
But the pilot remained still and limp as death itself.
 
Joey kept offering deep, panicky breaths as they both slipped into eerie limbo.

The two desperately bound figures were swallowed up by the darkness of 
full night as the camp fire began to drop lower and lower inside its ring of 
stones. Slowly, its lifegiving wood was consumed into just glowing ash
as the lonely sigh of the autumn wind drowned out the sounds of a little boy's
crying and the frantic efforts of his work, trying to breathe for two.
 
------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
 
Terri Baxter kept her horse along side Jodi the mule, so she could talk with
Sarah Collins. "We're gonna find your grandson, Sarah. It's only a matter of
time."
 
"I know that well enough. It's what condition we'll find him in that worries me."
she answered acidly. "Dang it all, why can't your mule stay on the trail? She keeps
dipping her head down grabbing onto things. My arms are getting tired redirecting 
her back to business each time." Sarah complained, feeling fatigue in every joint.
 
"She's what?" Terri gaped. "Wait a minute. Let her do that again. I want to
see what she's doing."
 
"Why? She's just fidgetting. Doesn't want to work." Sarah shrugged.
 
"Not my mule. Jodi's different. She's a hunter. Hates cougars with a passion
but she also loves to find anything else out of the ordinary, too."
 
Sarah eyed Terri on her horse with skepticism. "Are you telling me this mule's 
a natural born tracker?"
 
Terri squared her jaw, embarrassed. "Well..." She tried a different explanation.
"I know we've never lost a cougar yet we've gone after." Baxter grinned, 
tipping her head to one side. "Handy, since there isn't a park ranger on the
staff who knows how to track them."
 
"Joey's not a cougar." Sarah scoffed, frustrated.
 
"No, but a chopper he was in that crashed is certainly going to be an odd ball in 
these woods. And Jodi would notice a change like that long before any of us 
would. Weird as it sounds." Blake reasoned.
 
Collins harrumphed loud in her throat and loosened the reins on Jodi's neck.
"I'm willing to try anything at this point and I think the others would agree with you, 
me... errr...us." she sighed, correcting herself, with strained emotions.
 
Jodi, the bay mule, suddenly freed, immediately canted to the right, nuzzling 
about in a low bush. Her head disappeared up to the shoulders into its dried 
branches and leaves.
 
Terri studied her curiously, focused.
 
The older woman noticed and brushed her windblown blond gray hair out
of her eyes. Sarah rolled her eyes ruefully. "So she's hungry. Big hairy deal, 
Miss Blake." she joked dryly.
 
"Just a second, ma'am." Blake held up a hand, watching Jodi's antics carefully.
"She's actually full. Ate her weight in oats after we bagged that cougar yesterday. 
She just lipped her hay for me this afternoon as a courtesy and didn't eat a 
single mouthful."
 
The two women paused again, sitting quietly in their saddles.
 
Then Jodi took a step backward and when she reappeared, something blue was 
in between her teeth. Terri dismounted and snatched it free after liberal caresses 
and praise. "That's a good girl. Good hunting. Now gimme it. Let me see."

Jodi brayed, opened her mouth and let the object fell into Terri's gloves.
 
The mule's find was made of cloth, full of mud and dust. And when Blake
turned it over to look at its cleaner side, Sarah just about fell off the mule. 
"That's Joey's! It's his baseball cap!" she gasped. "I'd know it anywhere!"
 
Terri wiped away a smear of mud to expose an embroidery stitched ship 
bearing the name of the U.S.S. Intrepid. Part of the lettering was splashed in 
blood. Feeling stunned, and rescuer impatient, Blake passed it over to her guest
to free her hands up while she scrambled to get at the radio on her belt.
 
"He'd never part with it if he was still alive." Sarah sobbed, hugging the battered
navy cap to herself in despair. All her earlier obstinance had evaporated into
anxiety. She suddenly looked ten years older.
 
Terri gripped her arm to offer strength.
"Now we don't know anything concrete yet, Mrs. Collins. Let's just treat this find 
like the clue it is." Blake lifted her radio and reported their confirmed helicopter 
debris and then she gave her coordinates to the exact decimal quickly.
 
Minutes later, the rest of the search party converged to begin a new search using
the hat's bush as the center mark. Wainwright landed 240 Robert 
Air on the ridge above the group and jogged down to join them.
 
Terri pointed to Sarah and what she held. "This hat is the boy's. His name's Joey.
And he was definitely wearing it today."
 
The searchers got excited. Especially the gang of 51's. Then Terri showed them
the damage to the cap and to the bush that had hidden it from view.
 
"This does look like recent wind scour." said Trap, studying more shrubs 
and trees in the area. "There's no dew condensing on them yet."
 
"Yeah, and dust devil debris paths are always dry. See the marks where flying sticks 
and rocks have pierced the dead leaves on those trees? Bluebird Five must have 
been caught in a windshear or something similiar and lost control." Morgan stated.
 
"Then she'll be close by." said Cap.
 
"Within a half mile. Dust devils don't get that big. And they don't last for very long
once they get going." The female pilot agreed.
 
"Let's spread out!" Terri shouted to everybody. "Look for a white pine/eagle tree
in the immediate area." She updated Paul Carnes at Appalachia Central on everything.
"...and our location's is on the west rim of Black Rock Creek Gorge just above
Tag 119." she concluded.
 
##Good job. I'm glad you talked me into keeping that mule on the payroll in our stable's 
string. She's earned her weight in sweet feed today. Keep me posted.##
 
"Will do, Paul." Terri told him.
 
Morgan Wainwright ran for her chopper. "I'll get my spot light running hot." she 
promised.
 
"How big is it down there?" Roy asked, trying to peer into the pitch black 
gorge through the setting sunlight.
 
"Maybe a mile long by a quarter wide. It's tiny. With a creek at the bottom." Terri 
replied.
 
"Okay, guys, have your ropes ready. They might be needed." Hank suggested to
his men. "And bring all the flashlights you have."
 
"Right, Cap." said Marco and Chet.
 
Running to a camping path leading down into the gorge, Stoker drew out
a CO2 airhorn cartridge from his rescuer's pack and activated it in a few 
signalling blasts as he went.
 
Then the others began shouting Joey and Ken's name loudly as they followed
him eagerly down into the darkness.
 
-------------------------------------------------------------------------
 
Joey lifted his mouth off of Ken's nose at the end of giving him another breath.
He was dizzy and emotionally numb to the point of exhaustion. Only fear kept
him going. ::Dad, I know you're with me somehow. Keep me awake. I don't
want our friend to die. It can't be his time yet. Not like this.::  the boy thought.
 
Pfwweeettttt!  Pfwweeettttt! came a sound, echoing around the rocks of the
cliff faces around them.
 
"And now my ear's are ringing." Joey said aloud hoarsely, coughing weakily
as he bent, trembling over Ken's face. He closed his eyes wearily in a half daze
and leaned down to offer the still pilot another breath. "Ken, just stay with me."
he urged afterwards, feeling the pulse beating feebly in Baxter's neck. "We're
not through with each other yet. You've got more stories about my dad to tell."
 
".....joey?.....ken?... where are you?...." sighed the wind in a familiar but faraway voice.
 
The boy's head shot up. "Grandma?! Is that you? We're over here!" he yelled
excitedly.  Then Joey practically hugged Ken at the end of his next big mouth to nose
lung filling ventilation. He crouched low near one of Ken's bloody ears. "Did you hear
that, Ken? We've been found!" he shouted gleefully, crying. Then he lifted his head.
"Hey! Hurry up! Ken's in big trouble! He's not breathing anymore!" he screamed even
louder. 
 
Joey twisted his head in dismay when his voice echoed loudly around the black rocks 
and cliffs surrounding him in splintered confusion.
 
"....where?...." came an answering echo. It was a deep voice Joey did not know. It was 
Cap, still some distance away up one slope. ".....keep shouting.....we still can't find you..." 
 
"Down here! Can't you hear me?!" Joey sobbed, completely panicked. He rose to his 
feet, and started running towards the voice he thought he was just imagining.  
 
Just then, a bright blast of light and overwhelming noise snapped into being around 
Joey and Ken and their still weakily smoldering fire. It was 240 Robert Air, hovering
in closer, just at the top of the nearly leafless trees.
 
##Joey! We heard you. Don't panic. Keep resuscitating the pilot and don't stop. I'll let 
the others know where you are for you.##  came the authoritative voice of Morgan over 
a loud speaker in a wash of rotor blades. ## We'll be there in just seconds. Less than 
a minute. Just keep maintaining Ken as best you can. ##
 
"Okay!" Joey blinked, forcing calm into his mind. His eyes began watering in the blinding 
light, then he waved, and ran back to the bloody patch of ground he had just left. The boy 
knelt once again onto his blood damp knees, and returned back to the task of being 
Ken's lungs.
 
Briefly, Morgan turned her spotlight onto the tree where Bluebird Five hung, assessing
explosion and rock avalanche risk should it suddenly give way and tumble down into
the gorge. She located pockets of glinting fuel pools in her beam and was soon 
satisfied that there were no fires burning in the wreck. Then she aimed it back 
onto Joey to make sure the boy was following her instructions and had his sudden
hysteria back under control. 
  
Then she toggled back to the search party's channel. ##240 Robert Air. I've made
positive contact. They're two hundred meters directly below your current location. Bluebird
Five's stable in a pine tree and is in no immediate danger of burning. Sarah, Joey's 
okay. Guys, Ken's definitely respiratory arrested, just like you heard the boy say. It
looks like Joey's been trying to resuscitate him for a while. I directed him to continue  
rescue breathing. I think Baxter's still viable, there's no cyanosis evident. But there 
are other medical complications. I saw a lot of blood on the ground around one of his 
legs. Ken's left upper thigh appears badly fractured. ## Morgan reported.
 
"10-4." replied Roy DeSoto. "Sounds like a femur break involving the femoral artery."
 
"And hypovolemic shock." added Thib, nodding in agreement.
 
"I've got an ambu bag and oxygen set up." Ted Cassidy said.
 
"Let's go!" said Hank, running even faster behind his flashlight's guiding circle of light.
 
Roy DeSoto flung himself at Ken's head, feeling for a pulse. It was there. "We got him, Joey.
You can let go of him now. We'll take over." Ted Cassidy used a jaw thrust and began to bag 
pure oxygen to Ken through a valve mask on high flow. "He's got a fair carotid." Roy reported 
to Trap who was working on cutting away the gore soaked pants and shirt from Ken's body. 
 
"Ringers!" Trap ordered for somebody to begin. "Two of them. Large bore." 
 
Roy checked Ken's pupils with a penlight. "They're responsive. Normal." he grinned. "Good
job, Joey. Ken hasn't suffered any brain damage. You saved his life, you know that?"
 
"I did?"
 
DeSoto ruffled Joey's dirty hair.
"You sure did. Ken's just in a coma because he lost so much blood. We're going to push 
some of that missing fluid volume back now. Later, he'll get a few blood transfusions once 
we get to the hospital." DeSoto said, preparing an esophageal airway. "We're gonna keep 
him under with medications until he can start to heal up on his own, and after surgery, to fix 
that leg."
 
Trap probed the leg wound with a forceps and located the holed artery. He clamped it off 
with a hemostat above the small vessel tear only partially so the rest of Ken's leg wouldn't 
starve for oxygen. "Found it. It is the femoral, but it's not severed." He checked his work, 
then he pushed off the rock that Joey had been using on Ken's pressure point. The clamp 
began to throb rapidly with Ken's fast, weak heartbeat, but it held without hemorrhaging 
in the slightest.  "The hole's clotted shut on its own okay." Applegate then packed off 
the large wound with sterile gauze to stabilize the site.
 
"Hair traction splint?" asked Thib while he finished taking a blood pressure.
 
"No." Trap replied. "He's got an open fracture. Just MAST trousers inflated over his
abdomen and that good leg. Somebody, do a head to toe. What are his vitals?"
 
Thib offered them after taping off the I.V.s he had begun in both of Ken's arms. "BP 
52/34. Pulse 160 but regular. No respirations."
 
"I've boosted those up to twelve a minute, light." Ted Cassidy shared. "Breath sounds
are clear." he said, pulling a stethoscope out of his ears.
 
Roy nodded.
"Okay, let's intubate him. Then let's get him secured on a backboard with a c-collar." 
DeSoto decided. 
 
Once they were through securing Ken's airway, Roy brought Joey to one side while 
the others continued to treat and ventilate Ken. "Sit next to me. Did Mr. Baxter tell you 
about anything else that was hurting him before he blacked out, Joey?"
 
"Yeah, he said his belly was bothering him." the boy said from deep within the blanket
his grandmother had nestled around him. 
 
DeSoto made eye contact with Thib who checked Ken's abdomen out again. "It's soft.
No masses. Pelvis's stable." he shared with Roy. Then he bundled Ken up again in thick 
blankets around the fitted longboard and inflated mast suit.
 
"What happened?" DeSoto asked, turning his attention back to the boy.
 
"We had to jump down to get away from the chopper. Ken thought she was going to blow
up." Collins told him, watching Ted bag support Ken slowly through the taped EOA tube.
 
"How far did you two fall?" Roy asked, checking out Joey's pupils and feeling his head
and neck for problems.
 
"About eight feet."
 
"Are you still feeling dizzy?" 
 
"Not anymore." Joey said vehemently. "That went away once I was done working for two."
 
Marco, Chet and Stoker laughed.
 
Roy winked up at them for Joey's benefit.
"Well, you've earned yourself a rest. We'll let you lie down in a bit. Now how about these 
ribs here?" he said, noticing the darkening bruises when he had lifted Joey's shirt away
for an examination.
 
"They're fine. I just ache a little bit in my muscles." Joey told him, shivering.
 
"Where exactly?"
 
"My back from bending over, my stomach, from blowing hard for so long. And that's all."
he insisted. "Ken needs your help more than I do so why don't you go back to him?"
 
"I will. I just want to sure that you're doing okay, too. Are you feeling thirsty?" DeSoto 
asked, smiling.
 
"A little." the boy answered suspiciously.
 
Roy just chuckled. "No, I'm not looking to start an I.V. on you. You're doing fine."
 
"I'll get you some water." said Terri, grinning.
 
"Make it warm to hot." Roy told her. "With sugar. He's a little chilled."
 
"And hungry. The soup I made got cold waiting for me to get back to it." the boy 
complained. 
 
Very near them, Jodi the mule brayed, understanding that sentiment perfectly. She
began to eat vigorously around her bit, crunching the grass around Joey's shoes 
with her large teeth in loud, burpy pulls.
 
Collins laughed and reached up to pet her neck. 
 
Roy saw a private conversation in the making in Mrs. Collins eyes so he got up and 
returned to where the others were getting Ken ready for the hike up the slope to 240 
Robert Air.
 
When he had gone, Sarah spoke up softly. "You know that bay mule found your cap, 
Joey. Like a needle in a haystack." she told him. Then her eyes watered. "We almost 
didn't find you two in time. Want it back?" she said, reaching into her jacket for it.
 
Joey lifted up his sleepy gaze to his grandmother, and smiled. He shook his head. 
"Nah, I'm tired of wearing it. I don't need that stupid old hat to know how 
special dad really was any more. I've got Ken now to remind me of that, up close 
and personal, as my new best friend."
 
"I'm glad." Sarah sighed, hugging Joey tightly. "I wasn't so sure the two of you were
going to hit it off."
 
"I don't know why you doubted it. Ken's cool. He's a pilot. Just like dad was."
Then Joey sighed. "You think I'll be able to dream about Ben again someday?"
 
"Yes. You will. Your life has changed so much today, Joey. I think when we see your 
father from now on in our sleep, that'll only prove how much we still love him with 
both of our hearts." 
 
"If you say so." he said. "I don't want to be sad about him any more. I just
want to be safe." Yawning, Joey fell asleep in Sarah's arms, lulled as he had 
once been with her, as a baby.
 
"You are, dearest."
Sarah wiped away a solitary tear that fell unbidden down Joey's cheek. She 
wondered about its wetness. ::For stress? Or for love?:: Smiling, Mrs. Collins kissed
her grandson's forehead.  Then she whispered something in Joey's insensate ear, 
making a solemn promise. "I'll watch over you for the rest of my life. And so will Ken. 
He's family now."
 
Closing her eyes, Sarah Collins let the strong fall wind take Joey's stained navy 
cap away from her warm hands and into the crisp night, forever.
 
 
END PART ONE   --   THE FIRE WITHIN    --   MOVIE ONE

----------------------------------------------------------------------------

Photo:   A Rescue Pack on the ground.

Photo:  Terri Blake looking worried in a brown jacket.

Photo:  Captain Stanley in the woods in a white shirt.

Photo:  A tall pine tree crown sticking up into the air. 

Photo:  Joey lying on a bedroll, looking mud covered.

Photo:  Ken Baxter falling unconscious onto the ground.

Photo:  Joey providing mouth to nose resuscitation.

Photo: Gage grinning from a hospital bed.

Photo:  Dr. Joanne Almstedt, amused, wearing a stethoscope.

Photo:  Sarah Collins looking strained in winter clothes.

Photo: Jodi the mule, tied to a tree by a blue sky.

Photo:  A closeup of Joey's cap, the USS Intrepid.

Photo: Park rangers rushing in with a stokes stretcher in the woods.

Photo:  Roy treating someone, closeup.

Photo: Sierra park rangers, one of them Ted Cassidy, paramedic.

Photo:  Trap and Thib from 240 Robert working over a victim.

Photo:  Ken Baxter being airway checked.

Photo: Joey Collins, wet but happy in a closeup. 

Photo: Sarah Collins, grinning warmly, in sunny woods.

**************************************************
From:  patti k (pattik1@hotmail.com)  
Sent: Fri 6/12/09 8:36 AM 
Subject: Connections..

 
PART TWO   --   THE FIRE WITHIN    --   MOVIE ONE

Roy, Thib and Trap and Stoker wheeled Ken Baxter's stokes into the park hospital on
the gurney that had been provided once 240 Robert Air had landed in the parking
lot of Park Headquarters at Appalachian Central.

Paul Carnes, the park ranger captain, trailed along to get a verbal report from
the three paramedics and one firefighter as they rushed their patient in to the doctor 
awaiting them. "Don't worry about his personal info, we have that. Just a condition 
status on Ken. And then I'll take one on the chopper." he ordered.

DeSoto replied dutifully, "Hypovolemic shock, with estimated 1400 or more CC's of blood 
loss. In respiratory arrest. He's tubed, EOA with that ambu. He's got an open fracture
of the left femur, with one point arterial involvement, managed. We found signs of 
possible light internal abdominal injuries, just deep bruising no guarding. I think it's 
most likely from his seatbelt. The MAST trousers have his pressure back up to 90 systolic. 
Pulse is 124, thready. EKG is showing sinus tach, regular. Pupils reactive but 
sluggishly dilated. We think it's possible coma. Deep tendon reflexes are absent. He's 
got Ringers running in full. Blood glucose is 130, up from 70 following IM glucagon."

"Got it. I'll give this to Dr. Almstedt, direct." said Paul, writing quickly on his report form.
"Wainwright?" he prompted. 

Morgan reported on Bluebird Five. "She's salvagable, total front and rear rotor damage but
just some minor cabin dents and dings from what I could see.  I'd assume electrical 
shearing to some of the equipment in the patient cubicle. All her windshield flight glass and 
both cabin access doors will need to be replaced. Only one fuel tank was leaking. The 
other's still intact. And what I saw of the hydrolic system's fine. A paratrooper fire crew's 
remaining behind to prevent any ignition points until the military air crane comes in to airlift 
Bluebird Five free of that pine tree."

"Fuel's pooled on top of clay. It'll be easy to clean up with absorbent sand, sir." offered 
Stoker.

Paul then nodded to Wainwright, as the rescue and recovery group rounded the corner 
and went through the emergency entrance side of the national park's tiny hospital. "Is she 
going to be lifted to ISLIP airport?" she asked about the crash damaged helicopter.

"Yes, for the investigation and any later restoration." answered Paul.

"I take it I'll be staying behind to take over Bluebird Five's regular duties?" she asked.

"You got that right. Until further notice." said Carnes. "I'll keep you posted." he added, about 
Ken. "Go ahead and refuel from the pump. I've unlocked it. Grounding wire's all laid out.
Thanks, Morgan."

"No problem, captain. Glad I could help." the red haired pilot said, falling back to return to 
her chopper. "I'll keep my radio tuned to base for when it's time to fly Ken to a Level One
for orthopedic surgery."

Soon, the rescuers delivered Ken into a patient treatment cubicle. Joanne Almstedt and 
her team got to immediate work. Joanne began shouting out care orders to her staff. 
She caught the chart that Paul tossed to her neatly while an intern took over Stoker's
bagging efforts on Ken.

By the curtains, Paul noticed that Sarah Collins had followed them, carrying a sleeping, 
blanketed Joey in her arms with the assistance of Ted Cassidy, into a nearby cubicle. 
A nurse followed them in. "How's the boy?"

Roy answered.
"Banged up, but all right.  He's just sleeping. He said he was feeling tired and hungry. 
His vitals signs checked out fine on the way in." said DeSoto, hanging up Ken's I.V.s onto
a pole.

Trap grinned, thinking about something, as he helped unblanket Ken for Joanne's
examination. "You know, we really need to be grateful to Joey once he wakes up."

"I heard. Did he really keep up manual resuscitation on Ken for that long?"
Carnes asked, surprised.

Applegate gladly shared the news.
"Yep. And stopped that arterial bleed. He saved his life." replied Trap. "I have a feeling 
that Ken'll come out of this whole thing without suffering any damage from lack of oxygen. 
Baxter's color was still a good shade when we got there despite all that blood loss. He 
never lost a regular, viable carotid. Signs of that would have shown up on the EKG monitor
as irregularities due to ischemic effects."

"Lucky." Carnes said, nodding as he studied the rhythm on the screen. "Things still look
okay."

"Let me be the judge of that." bristled Joanne, overhearing. "Fellas, you've done your 
job for the day. Give us some room please." 

Her hint of dismissal was unmistakable.

All five men held up amused, mock surrendering hands and retreated from the bay.
"Yes, ma'am." Paul said, his eyes twinkling.

--------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
Joey Collins opened his eyes and let the nurses fuss over him as they cut off
his soiled gory clothes and fitted him into a warm patient gown. His hand never
let go of Sarah's the whole time. He just kept mumbling random thoughts over
and over again in his fatigue. "...All that Dad was, everything that he believed in,
is now a part of me..." he whispered. 

"Yes, Joey. That's true of everybody you get to know." frowned Sarah, worried.

"He's just emotionally stunned, Mrs. Collins. Anybody would be, surviving the kind
of ordeal he's just been through. Rest'll fix him up faster than anything I suspect.
You can stay with him if you like." the nurse offered.

"That wasn't even questionable.." Sarah snapped, holding a soft hand on
Joey's cheek through his rambling. "Easy, love. I'm here. Just close your eyes."

"No!  I want to talk to Ken...." Joey hollered, still figetting under the warm wash 
towels the staff was using to clean him up to look for more minor injuries.

Terri Blake hurried into the boy's curtained cubicle. "Shhh, he can't talk right now
Joey, remember? He's got a tube down so they can breathe for him by machine
while he's being drugged into sleep."

"Roy said he's in a coma, Terri." Joey cried, distraught.

"Yes, he wouldn't lie to you." Blake agreed.

"An induced, protective one young man." said the older nurse kindly. "He's got
a lot of mending to do before he's healed enough to be awake."

"For how long?" Joey frowned, anxious. "He's gotta eat."

"A couple of days at the most." smiled Margaret the nurse. "Now enough about your
friend. Tell me what YOU want to eat and drink. That's the next step."

"I'm not hungry."

"Fib.." Sarah said, tipping her chin up at her grandson in warning. "Tell the truth.."

"Okay, okay. I am. How about a soda?"

"Oh, Joey.." Sarah grinned.

Margaret shrugged. "It's sugar at least. Good enough for the doctor, it says here."
she said, eyeing up Joey's chart. "Clear liquids if nauseated." she read.

"But Joey hasn't thrown up." Sarah wondered.

"No, but I'm sure he feels like he wants to right about now." said Terri in
sympathy. Then she sat down on a stool right next to the boy as he was
covered up in thick heated blankets. "Joey, you can relax. Ken's responding 
to treatment. He's getting transfusions and his pulse's stronger. Can you hear that 
EKG monitor coming from over there?" she asked, pointing towards one curtain. 
A beat that was no longer rapid was sounding softly, very near them.

"Yes." said the boy.

"That's his, so you can keep tabs on him from right where you are. I had Joanne 
turn on the audible." said Blake. "And you'll be able to hear everything the doctor
does for him. DeSoto told me you wanted to be informed as soon as it happened."



On cue, they heard Almstedt's orders to the stabilization team she had assembled
around Ken in next cubicle over. "I want a full series; skull, spine, chest and pelvic films. 
Draw another red top for arterial blood gases, baseline hematocrit, and a hemoglobin 
study. Ann, just use a dipstick urinalysis to rule out occult hematuria. I don't want 
to waste time with a foley before we fly him out of here. Oh, and Matt? I want a serum 
potassium level to see if rhabdomyolysis is going to be a factor for us. What's his 
pressure?" she asked at large.

"120/88." reported a nurse.

"Good. Keep the abdominal part of the suit inflated for now. I'll let them worry
about it later." said Joanne about the surgical team in Long Island who had been
alerted that Baxter was going to be sent to them. "How's that foot?" she asked.
 
"Pulse's weaker." said an intern monitoring circulation. "Swelling's worse."

"Turn it until you get a better one." Joanne told her. "We've got that repaired artery 
retracted away from the bone end so don't be shy about experimenting with 
repositioning." she told him. "I want to see pink toes."

"Yes, ma'am." he replied.

"He's starting to gasp." said the staffer on Ken's head, working the bag.

"How often?" Joanne asked.

"One every four."

"Get him on a portable bird. Easy vents on PEEP, 80% O2." Almstedt concluded. 
"We'll support him for now that way until he takes a more active interest in 
breathing on his own."

"Right away, doctor."  he said.


Listening intently, the boy held his breath. "His leg. It's so bad.." Joey sobbed, 
tearing up.

Terri Blake smiled to reassure him.
"Ken's not feeling it anymore. And we're gonna fix it with surgery so it's as good 
as new. The doctor said the break isn't serious. It just slipped out of place while
he was out there and made a small hole in that artery. They've already sewn it
up."

------------------------------------------------------

The Station 51 five was ever grateful to see a set of free hotel rooms.

Reaching his room, Cap pulled down a penned note somebody had left taped to
his door. "Our deer was sent to town." he said, reading it. "It'll be at the butcher's
when we leave ISLIP after airport training, already dehydrated and preserved for 
us and packed up. Says all our luggage is already in our rooms, too." 
 
"Who did that? Wow,.." Marco asked. "..that was nice of 'em."

"Doesn't say." Hank told him, flipping the note over. 

"Give me that. I can tell." insisted Chet, snatching the paper out of Cap's hand.
He looked at it. "It's a girl's writing. And it's curly. I'll just bet this was Terri."

"The younger one?" asked Stoker.

"Yeah, the cute redhead." Kelly nodded. 

"She gets everywhere, doesn't she?" Roy laughed. On a thought, DeSoto paused 
in opening his room's door with his key. He moved over to the door directly across 
the hall from his that had a do not disturb sign on it, and knocked.

"DeSoto.." Chet chided.

"It's okay." Roy laughed. "I'm sure we can guess who this is."

Johnny Gage opened the door. He was clean, dressed in a cowboy shirt,
jeans and boots, wearing a cheeky grin. "Hi guys." he said, leaning on his door
frame. "Boy, do you look like something the cat dragged in." he joked.

Stoker snorted. "Don't we always after rescues?"

Chet countered, nailing Johnny in the chest with a finger tip. "And you look
like the cat that ate the canary."

Johnny snickered. "Well, I did."

"Who was she?" Marco asked excitedly.

"It's not what you think. Joanne Almstedt and I had lunch together. To patch
up a rough start." Gage said matter of factly.

Cap just harrumphed neutrally, already on a different track. "Is the food any good?"

"It's great! I had a roast beef sandwich and a salad." Johnny said, patting his very
full stomach. 

The grimy, hunter clad firemen five eyed up his sated condition jealously.

"Oh. The cafeteria's only open until seven now that all the excitement's 
over. You've got twenty minutes." Johnny told them urgently.

"After I shower. Then we can meet over supper to do our reports for the park 
people." Hank told them.

"Aw, Cap. Let's do that later.." said the other five men in sync.

Marco raised his eyebrows. "Yeah, I thought the dinner table's for downtime."

"Say, that's right. I forgot." said Cap in mock discovery. "Could have fooled me that 
we're on vacation." he chuckled. "I feel like I've just finished a four alarm fire. I sure 
smell like one."  He entered his room and closed his door vigorously, leaving the 
rest of them standing in the pinewood hallway, alone.

Chet was still reading the note. "Hey, guess who's coming to dinner."

Johnny just winked at him. "Everybody." Then he looked dismayed. "Oh, no. I sure
hope Morgan's going to be there."

"Why? Does she have a vendetta against you, too?" asked Kelly.

"No, the opposite." Gage grinned. "She likes my cheeks."

Johnny saundered away, whistling happily with his hands in his pockets for the lodge
and its warm fireplace, leaving Chet behind to scratch his head in puzzlement.

----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

The special of the day was grilled venison a la cranberry and sweet
potatoes, irresistable to the California six.

"You just ate." Kelly scoffed at Gage as a steaming plate of deer flank was laid before 
him by one of the park's wait help. 

"I'm still recovering. I was cold injured, remember?" Johnny told him, reaching for the 
pepper mill on the plastic red and white plaid covered long table the main rescue crowd 
now occupied. "Yum. This one was taken by bow." he said taking a bite on a fork.

"How can you tell?" Cap asked him, incredulous.

"No metallic aftertaste." Johnny said, cheeks bulging with meat. "Steel shot leaves
a residue that .....circulates around."

"Eowww.. I'm eating.." said Chet, picking at his venison steak.

Next to him, Deputy Paramedic Dwayne Thibideaux chuckled. "Think of the savory 
grasses and herbs he must have eaten this morning, Chet. Free seasoning."

"Thanks a lot." Kelly grumped, still remembering his bad kill a few days before.

"What's with him?" Thib wondered, looking up at the others mildly.

"Virgin hunter." Gage told him seriously.

"Oo, sorry pal. I was that once, too. It'll pass. Game meat'll forever taste good 
once you get over it." Trap Applegate shared with Kelly.

"I sure hope so." Chet moped.

"Yours is worse because of the city dweller effect." offered Sierra Ranger Ted 
Cassidy. "Bet only Johnny here's been raised out in the country. Am I right?"

The firefighters nodded. 

Roy added more. "I helped on a farm once. Processing pigs."

Kelly slammed his fork down in disgust. "Do you mind.." he grunted loudly, glaring
at Roy.

"Sorry. I thought I said it discreetly enough." DeSoto told him. "Here, have my 
chicken." he said, trading plates with Chet. "That at least, has still gotta to be neutral 
memory for ya."

"Thanks, pal." Chet smiled. "I owe you one." he said diving in hungrily. 

"Just take hunting lessons or something when we get back home and we're even." 
DeSoto said.

At another part of the table, Joanne Almstedt and Terri Blake were talking quietly 
over non alcoholic wine and pie. The doctor nudged her younger companion with
an elbow. "So, are you gonna ask him out?"

"No.." said Terri, nervously eyeing up her mentor and object of affection, Paul
Carnes, who sat obliviously near them, chatting up the fire crew from L.A. "Well,
I wouldn't know what to say.."

"Terri, you're a grown woman. You've rehearsed this in your head for the last year
at the very minimum. Just do it." Almstedt encouraged lightly, in a whisper.

"Ohfine.Okayheregoes." Blake sighed deeply, sliding her chair over to where all the 
men had gathered to eat. She licked dried lips and opened her mouth. "Paul..."

Carnes was engaged in animated, laughing conversation. ".....and there we were with
snow up to our butts and forty eight hungry kids trapped in the lodge along with us
for the duration..." he shared with the rest of the group.

"So how did you feed everybody?" Stoker grinned.

"Turned it into a sleepover around the fire: hotdogs and soda cans. With extra blankets
on the floor. Turned off the lodge lights to keep everybody calm. The boyscouts were
fine. They treated the whole affair like it was part of the tour." Paul laughed.

"Uh, Paul.." Terri started in again weakily, afraid to tap his arm.

Carnes was captivating to his audience and equally lost in mirth.
"I've never seen such a well behaved group of kids in all my years as a captain. They
didn't kick, fight, or scream to high heavens. They just told ghost stories. Those even 
frightened the girls. Didn't they, Terri?" he suddenly asked, looking right at Blake.

"I...uh.. " Terri stammered, feeling all eyes on her from around the table. She flushed red
and promptly dismissed what she was about to do. "Well, yeah, one of them." she offered
lamely. "Remember that creepy account of a mass murderer running around upstate New 
York? They told it in incredible detail."

"Ah, but that guy was real." Carnes agreed. "He was on the news just that night, still
at large from the authorities." Then Paul turned to Joanne. "Didn't they catch him only
a mile or so from here, holed up in one of our cabins?"

"Uh,.. yeah." Almstedt agreed. "Living on poached deer." 

Joanne jerked her eyes towards Paul with a small urgent head bob at Terri, but 
Blake shook her head vehemently, her movements equally miniscule.

Then the moment was gone when Paul slid up close to Marco to tell him something
else. And so went the young woman's courage. She wilted in her seat.

Joanne just buried her head in sympathic frustration.

"I'll say it again." Paul said animatedly to Lopez, hefting up his root beer glass 
and sipping it. "Here's to a day full of successes. This is certainly one night I'll never 
forget."

"Same here." Terri mumbled under her breath, disappointed in herself. She slid her
chair back over to Joanne's end of the table and unenthusiastically nibbled at her
pie.

"Better luck next time?" Joanne shrugged, topping off her friend's glass with more
pink catawba. 

"There might not be a next time. I'm hopeless." she frowned.

Joanne did not give up. "Try asking him when it's just the two of you around."

"I can't do that. I'll... I'll chicken out for sure because you're not there, poking me."
Terri sighed, mortified.

"Then we've got a real problem here. You want Paul to notice you. But he's too dumb
to know that you're even interested."

"Joanne..." Terri stage whispered, chiding her.

"What? It's the truth. I'm an expert at assessing people." she sniffed. "So.. What's the
next best approach here?" she eyeballed her friend seriously.

Terri gritted her teeth. "I hit him over the head with a baseball bat?"

"That'll work. But then I'll have to treat him and you'll get arrested for assault." Joanne
joked, deadpan. "And then for sure, you'd lose your job."

"Yeah.... .." she sighed. Then she tensed up again. "Oh, I don't know what to do." Terri ansed.

"Use your imagination. You've got a great one. And I'm not the only one who knows that." 
she said significantly, angling her head back in Paul's direction again. "I'm getting up to go 
sit by the fire. There's room enough on that free couch over there for two." she hinted.

Terri studied her twitching hands uncomfortably, and sucked in a big nervous lungful.  

Joanne took one of them, and stilled it. 
"Do you have that letter of reprimand Paul gave you? Maybe that can be the topic of your
conversation to start with. That way, your first excuse to talk to him alone can be your worry 
over it."

"You really think so?" Blake asked, her lip quivering.

Joanne just nodded fractionally, sincere. "Just be yourself.  And Terri. Always remember
that he's a friend first and a captain second. There isn't a man alive who'll ignore a best
friend in distress. Trust your instincts. Once he's looking at you undistracted, there's no way 
he'll be blind to your other feelings once you've expressed them."

Terri didn't say anything and she looked down, becoming very quiet then with new private 
thoughts.

"Go. I promise I won't watch." Joanne whispered, seeing the moment at last in her friend.

A few minutes later, Joanne smiled out of the corners of her eyes when she saw Paul Carnes
place his hand over Terri's in something more than just reassurance, in the fire's romantically
warm glow.

---------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
"Write me?" Johnny said, grinning out the driver's window of his rover at Morgan 
Wainwright. He was eating breakfast, a cojoined pair of cinnamon sweetrolls. 

She was wearing a fetching exercise suit under her ski jacket, now that she was off duty. 
"You bet I will." she said, giving Johnny a light kiss on the lips. "I have to see if those
buns are still warm." She moved her teeth to take a big bite out of his food and he
enjoyed holding it for her the whole time, delightedly. She smiled. "See you when
I get to California, Johnny. Thanks for the taste." Pilot Wainwright winked.

Chet and Marco hooted from the back seat while Cap, Stoker and Roy just rolled their
eyes at the innuendo. 

"Gage, move it out. We're late." Cap gruffed. "We should have been there half an hour
ago."

"Ah, duty calls." Johnny grinned with mock reluctance at his new love interest. Then he 
rolled up his window and he took their luggage laden rover into the main lane of the 
parking lot, which led out to the highway. 

He kept Morgan's waving image in his rear view mirror for as long as possible until a tree
forced him to yank the steering wheel around sharply to the right, to avoid hitting it.

-----------------------------------------------------------------------------

Photo:    Ken Baxter on a respirator in a hospital bed.

Photo:   Joey Collins looking sad.

Photo:   Terri Blake looking calm and relaxed.

Photo:   Dr. Joanne Almstedt treating a patient, with interns.

Photo:    Roy and Chet walking down a hallway in street clothes.

Photo:  Gage fussing with a food bowl and peppermills in a striped shirt.

Photo:   Venison steak on a plate with veggies and berries.

Photo:    The gang piled into a luggage laden land rover.

Photo:  Morgan Wainwright, smiling broadly.

Photo:   A highway leading to Long Island MacArthur Airport.

Photo:   ISLIP airport welcome sign and flags.

Photo:   Glowing ISLIP fire rescue sign at night.

Photo:   An airport fire station with a neon yellow engine tanker in front.
 
******************************************************
Subject: The Bonding..
From:  patti k (pattik1@hotmail.com)  
Sent: Sat 6/20/09 5:27 AM 

"We're here." announced Chet happily, as he drove Gage's land rover over
yet another non descript low set bridge over salty marsh. "Out of the city
limits."
 
"We're where?" Johnny jilted sleepily from the back seat. "Just looks like
more of the same to me. Too many people." he groused limply, yawning and
wincing in the bright, winter sunlight that was in full force on this side of the 
Appalchian mountains.
 
"Those skyscrapers we passed were two burroughs, Brooklyn and Queens. That
was New York. Now we're in the 'burbs according to the map; Nassau and Suffolk..."
said Stoker, "..on the way to Patchogue, where Chief Joe Rorchek lives. His house
is where all of us are going to be staying when we're not training with his crew."
 
"Well, when are we going to get to Long Island?" Johnny asked, complaining
miserably, feeling up a cramped aching back from sleeping in a poor position. 
"Isn't that where their fire station is at the airport?"
 
The others just laughed.
 
Cap spoke up. "We've been ON Long Island for the last hour, Gage. We're
surrounded by the ocean. Can't you smell it?"
 
Johnny quickly rolled down his window. "Yeah. Holy cow. Just how big is this
island? It must be huge." he said sitting up, thoroughly awake now and surprised.
The snow scented air billowed in his hair and refreshed him.
 
Mike chuckled. "118 miles long, 23 miles wide with a population of 7,400,000 people."
"No sleepy eastern seaboard islet is this." Kelly giggled. "Out here, they do everything
grand scale. You missed seeing the World Trade Center, Johnny. Man, those towers 
were BIG. We could see them all the way from our island."
 
"Sorry I missed them." Johnny whispered sincerely. "I've heard they're something 
really special."
 
A camera click filled the rover as Lopez hooted in touristy excitement. Marco pointed 
animatedly as they passed another road sign. "Hey, you'll never guess the name
of the avenue we just passed."
 
"What was it?" Hank asked, still interested in learning the topography.
 
"Stanley Avenue."
 
"Oh, no way." Cap chuckled.
 
"It's true. I took a picture of it for you as a souvenir." Marco said, patting Cap's shoulder.
 
"I'm so loved." Hank rolled his eyes. "But donuts would have been appreciated much 
more." he sniffed, scanning the businesses around them for their appointed goal. 
"Oh, yeah.. Chet, pull over. There's the place right there. The one Joe mentioned in his 
phone call last night. He said to pick up some ribs from that joint to be part of lunch today 
for the bunch of us."
 
"The Bobbique?" Kelly scoffed, squinting at the sign out front of the low, red brick building.
 
"Don't ask. If a fire chief says the food's good, it is. We're stopping." Cap said no
nonsense. 
 
--------------------------------------------------------------------------------- 
 
Leaving the BBQ ribs and another foil covered tray the gang had prepared, 
everyone spilled out of the rover and into a virtual paradise. "Wow, flowers?"
peeped Chet as they viewed the extensive gardens around a quaint white New 
England cottage.
 
"Must be sheltered from the north winds down here if Indian summer's still hanging on."
DeSoto guessed. "It's almost hot now."
 
"It's the air masses off the ocean that do that. Kind of like our fog banks at home along
the PCH." Stoker shared. "Guess it all depends on which way the wind's blowing. Here,
it must be from the south all the time." he said, licking a finger to hold it up to test the breeze.
 
"Which is why my wife and I built our home here thirty five years ago." said a rich stenorous
voice from behind a bush.
 
The gang turned and spied an older man with white hair and dark eyebrows making his
way towards them in a carnigan sweater and naval trousers.
 
Cap paced forward and warmly took Joe Rorchek's hand. "Chief, thanks for having us.
We got the chow okay." he smiled. "This is Roy DeSoto, Johnny Gage, our paramedics, 
Marco Lopez, Michael Stoker, our engineer, and Chester B. Kelly."
 
"And you're Captain Henry Stanley." Joe remembered, greeting the others briskly.
 
"Please, call me Hank." Cap said quickly, much to the amusement of the other five.
 
Joe didn't miss the inside joke, but neither did he ask the reason why.
"Will do. Come on, let's get your secondary things inside and then I'll pull around ahead 
and guide you the rest of the way to my station at MacArthur. The backroads around here 
get kind of tricky to avoid the deeper marshes." Rorchek told them. "We'll be floating back
and forth between the two places depending on whether we're either on or off duty."
 
"Where are we going exactly, sir?" Mike asked, ever thorough, with his map out and a 
pencil.
 
"100 Arrival Ave in Ronkonkoma, NY. The telephone number's 467-3279 if we
get separated from each other in traffic."  Joe replied.
 
------------------------------------------------------------------------------- 
 
Soon, the two fire crews were united in the great yawning bay holding the airport's 
crash apparatus and other rescue and medical units. Joe Rorchek introduced his
two sons, Chris and Ted and then Hallie Green, spunky and fair haired followed
by Al Martelli, pump operator and lastly, Rags Harris, the large hazmat rescue fireman
of football stature who demonstrated his gentle nature with an easy going smile. 

Rags showed a rapid fire cooking prowess by divesting Cap of their purchased beef ribs
in trade for a twenty, and then the hunted venison tray offering, by heating them into 
rich, steaming savory fare in less than five minutes over an open fire pit grill standing 
outside under the eaves over sand.
 
The chief invited Cap and the others to sit at the long table that Hallie and his other crew 
had prepared with potatoes, salad, rolls and cheese. "What'll it be? Coffee?" he asked 
them as they sat at seats very like the ones they were used to back in Carson.
 
"What else?" Cap joked. "Don't we all live on it?"
 
"Like gas." Chet Kelly commented.
 
Hallie laughed lightly as she placed warmed china in front of their guests, one by one.
"By the gallon. Gentlemen, for later, the head's out that door and up the stairs just down
the hall from the chief's office. All the showers and stalls are right next to the locker room.
Eat up."
 
The gang smiled appreciating the view and blinking a little at the glare of sunlight coming
in through the skylights and reflecting off the white painted brick walls surrounding them
in the kitchen space.
 
Martelli took a seat next to Chet, sporting identical hair. They eyed up each other
and nodded in mutual appreciation of their hairstyle choices. Then Al grinned. "Hi guys. 
Nice to meet all of you. I've got attendants from the terminal coming who'll hang all your 
stuff up for you except for the personals in your duffle bags."
 
"Thanks." said the Station 51 gang, savoring their freshly poured coffee mugs.
 
Ted, the light brown haired, small but athletic firefighter, was curious. "Hey, did 
you bring your Cally uniforms? Those have been authorized as a go by HQ."
 
"Yeah." replied Cap. "Turnouts, helmets, shirts, pants, shoes and boots."
 
"We've set out scba harnesses in your sizes." replied Chris. "And a few 
sweaters. There's a blow coming in later tonight according to the tower boys."
 
Marco looked up from his eager feasting in dismay. "Whoa, more snow?"
 
Hallie shrugged. "A little ice. Nothing big." she said, working quickly at her meal.
 
Roy DeSoto shivered in reflex. "Brrr.."
 
The others chuckled at his still oversensitive reaction.
 
Stoker spoke up, asking the question that had been on his lips for weeks. 
"Any chance I'll get to play with the rigs as a driver?"
 
"Ohhh, yeah." drawled Martelli happily. "I could use a break. I've got the cones 
already set out on a spare runway around the first scenario we've got planned 
to go over with you guys, in the morning."
 
"Just what have you got planned?" Gage asked of the chief.
 
"A stationary jumbo jet aflame, with all passengers exited. A mock hot tire
blow that got into the hydraulics." replied Joe.
 
"Oo, messy." Hank winced in sympathy.
 
"It's not so bad. We have a clean formula to burn around the fuselage." the 
square shouldered and square jawed Chris Rorchek replied. "Smokes a bit,
but then again, that's the point." 
 
"Speaking of smoked. These ribs are terrific." said Stoker, eyeing up their
food host.
 
"Thanks." said the bass voiced Harris. "My father was a top notch sous chef. 
One of the best in all of New York in his day. He taught me everything I know." 
 
"Including firefighting?" Ted Rorchek chipped in, baiting.
 
"No, dad hated fire, only liked it at heel under his meal, if you know what I mean."
laughed the big African American firefighter. "He always told me flames are best
small and tamed, not big and wild. But I liked that side of things. So I went seeking
it out. And soon, I found taming fire back down to the tiny is exactly the spice of life 
for me."
 
"It shows." said Marco, hefting up a deer steak bite in token respect. "Can I get
the recipe for this?"
 
"Sure, the cards are in the Dalmatian cookie jar over there." said Harris, pointing 
with a knife. "I made copies for anyone who wants them."
 
"They're almost gone." said Green, reminding him yet again on an old subject.
 
"Really? Now how'd that happen?" Rags smirked, pleased that he had his fans.
 
"The tower boys raided our frig last night while we were sleeping." Martelli told him.
"Made off with a few choice items. Like the TV remote and your recipes."
 
The smile wiped right off of Harris's face. "Those lily livered.." he bubbled.
 
Chris, Ted and Rags instantly mourned the lost electronic, promptly forgetting all
about food.
 
Joe grunted in amusement. "You boys and your wars. You all deserve each other."
 
Chet's eyes lit up. "You mean there's a hot practical joke battle going on?"
 
"The very thing." Ted grumbled, mad at being outmaneuvered once again. "Between
us, and the control tower."
 
Kelly face melted into a feral grin. "Ooo, Cap. Permission to pounce?" Chet asked.
 
Hank snorted.
 
"What's he talking about?" Chris wondered, looking at Hank while pointing a fork at Chet.

Cap neatly set down a folded napkin and fixed the bigger Rorchek brother with an arched
brow. "You're looking at a station clown with the worst reputation in all of the Los Angeles 
County Fire Department." Cap attributed to Kelly with respectful head bob. "If you turn Chet 
loose on your target bunch, I guarantee they'll never ever bother you boys again once he's 
through with them."
 
Rags, Chris and Ted leaped out of their chairs and grabbed Chet out of his by the
seat of his pants, and both arms, hauling him away with them to the radio room, unmindful 
of his protests at being kidnapped from a plate that still had one last tasty rib left on it.
 
Chief Joe smiled, enjoying his uninterrupted meal with zest. "Yep, we firefighters fit right in 
with each other no matter where we go."
 
"Woof!" barked a large dog loudly from somewhere nearby.
 
Hallie reached over and snagged Chet's food. "Here, Sophie. Have a bite." she said,
tossing the meat over to a large spotted Dalmatian that came sailing into the room as
if she was psychic. "He's done."
 
"Not by a long shot." sniggered Gage.

------------------------------------------------------------------------------ 

Photo: The Station 51 gang in street clothes by a fire engine.

Photo:  The Code Red crew by an engine, promo shot.

Photo:   Stanley Ave street sign at an intersection.

Photo:   The Bobbique restaurant, actual location.

Photo:   A white New England cottage surrounding by a flower garden.

Photo:   Lush flower beds with neat landscaping and brick paths.

Photo:   Chief Joe Rorchek by a white brick wall.

Photo:   A fireman preparing venison steaks.

Photo:   Fireman adding hot sauce to a pot of chili.

Photo:   Al Martelli and Ted Rorchek chowing down hungrily, standing.

Photo:   Chris Rorchek and Ted Rorchek by a food pot, seated.

Photo:   Rags Harris tasting his own cooking.

Photo:   Hallie Green smirking an oh, well grin, hair in a bun.

Photo:  Chet Kelly, looking up to mischief.

Photo:   A dalmatian dog seated by a fire engine.
  
*************************************************** 
Subject: Orientation.. 
From: 	patti k (pattik1@hotmail.com)
Sent: 	Fri 7/24/09 12:03 AM

Chief Joe Rorchek cocked an ear, but didn't pry when a very satisfied Ted,
Chris and Rags returned with an equally flushed and laughing Chet from
the radio room a few minutes later.

"We got them good. They didn't know what hit em when Kelly boy here
spoke up declaring a----"

Hallie Green crowed, interrupting as she held up a freshly baked
apple pie for all to behold. "WahhhHHHHooo! Dessert anyone? Let's 
celebrate our latest victory in the war."  she said, looking up from
the noisy television set that she quickly turned off.

Kelly scratched his head. "What war? Viet Nam?" he said, still clearing
everybody's lunch plates.

"No, dude. The practical joke war we've been suffering due to the control
tower guys putting one up on us all the time." said Al Martelli, the Italian.

"No suffering any more. They've run permanently. I've guaranteed it." 
Chet said proudly.

Gage's ears perked up with horrified reluctance. "What'dya do?"

Kelly merely pursed his lips and made a smug it's-a-trade-secret gesture
and all three of his fellow Code Red conspirators zipped their mouths
shut, protectively bright, with very high admiration for their jokester guest. 

Johnny frowned unhappily, remembering his own days as Chet's target.

The chief cleared his throat derisively which was echoed by one of Hank's
rumbles that caused an instant halt in all jovial conversation. In his black 
jacketed arms, Joe carried training materials for Station 51's men and 
deftly, he began passing them out to the California firemen.
    
"Once we've all eaten Hallie's sweet, you'll have just an hour to study 
all the materials in these packets. Then we'll give you a more detailed
station tour and get you all fitted with your own specialized hazmat thermal 
gear. As guest actives, you must be familiar with the entire airport layout
by 1500 hours. Sorry, the airport commissioner's orders." the senior, white
haired Rorchek said, holding up his hands lightly as the others moaned their
dismay.  "Settle down. I promise this won't be boring. I've spruced up the 
usual lecture with a new lights and sounds slideshow."

"Really?" piped up Rags, the big African American firefighter. "Terrific."

Martelli smacked him for being a smart aleck. 

Joe smirked acidly, but in good humor as he began when the lights
were dimmed after the equipment was ready. "Long Island Mac Arthur Airport 
covers an area of 1,311 acres which contains four runways and two helipads. 
We use blue dyed Avgas 100LL and clear to straw colored JET-A for our 
aircraft fuels exclusively."

He showed them file photos of the black and white stripe marked Jet A fuel 
tanks versus the clearly blue labelled and painted Avgas ones.

Joe's eyes roamed the table as the others studied the images he quickly
projected onto a white brick wall near their shared table using a cable wire 
clicker.

"Our Airport's FAA Identifier is the initials: ISP. And our standard holding 
pattern altitude is 1099 ft. MSL." he shared. "Probably not a fact suited
to memorize but handy to know nonetheless when listening in to
live approach and departure radio traffic, don't you think?" Joe added
craftily in a hint. "Chris.. would you take over? I'll dish out the pie. Only I
can do that fairly.."

"Hey, I protest.." said Hallie, pouting, hefting up a gooey serving knife.

The others chuckled.

"Okay, it's true." she shrugged, plunking down into her seat politely 
for the rest of the presentation.

Joe licked his fingers after doling out all twelve pieces of the pie.

The tall, dark haired muscley older son of Joe, the fire chief, took up
the slack neatly. "In your folders, fellas, is a list of our radio frequencies on a 
laminated card. Please read them and then keep it with you at all times. 
We'll be using this information frequently during tomorrow's fuselage drill."

----------------------------------------
Main Airport Communications is CTAF:  119.3 
 
LONG ISLAND GROUND:  135.3 [0600-2300] 
LONG ISLAND TOWER:  119.3,  335.5,  124.3,  239.3 [0600-2300] 
NEW YORK APPROACH and DEPARTURE:  118.0 
 
EMERG:  121.5 or 243.0 
-----------------------------------------

"Our airport's manager is Theresa Ryder. She's in possession of a radio linked 
to our station's first emergency frequency listed on the card, at all times."

"I have a question for you. ISLIP's huge. How do you keep ahead of
all the crime and medical transports when you get them?" asked Cap.

Chris grinned toothily, pointing westward out a glass window to where
a wind sock was blowing in the cold, cloudy air. "The Suffolk County Police 
Aviation Section bases a Law Enforcement and MEDEVAC helicopter at the 
airport. The base is staffed 24 hours a day by Police Officer pilots as well 
as a newly hired, experienced Flight Paramedic employed by Stony Brook 
University Hospital by the name of Steven Beck. The SCPD works alongside 
the Town of Islip MacArthur Airport Police to provide law enforcement and 
security for us."

Gage piped up with active interest. "Police pilots? Would any of them be a
girl sheriff named Morgan Wainwright?"

"I'm afraid not." said Chris. "All the ones I know who work here are guys." he replied.

"Oh. Too bad." Johnny said crestfallen. "I've got a date with that particular
girl later." he explained eagerly.

Roy leaned into Gage and nudged his shoulder. "Don't brag." he stage whispered.

Nobody else noticed the exchange as Chris called up image after aerial image
of several planeview overheads looking down onto the airport.
"We have at any one time, 255 aircraft on the field. One hundred fifty eight 
private single engine aircraft, twenty six multi engine planes, forty seven jet 
airplanes, sixteen helicopters, private and commercial shipping, and eight military 
aircraft." Rorchek explained.

"What are they doing here?" asked Hank curiously.

Ted Rorchek, Joe's youngest son, spoke up, smiling with amusement. "Don't 
know. Their missions are always kept a secret."

"Maybe another war's gonna break out." mumbled Chet worriedly.

"One's enough." Marco complained to him about Viet Nam.

Chris began to lick his lips, thinking about the dessert waiting for him
in the darkness. "Uh, Ted, you want to take over?" 

"Sure." said his brother, pushing away his empty pie plate.

The shorter, light, feather haired firefighter took away the slideshow
clicker from his sibling's open hand and continued on for their California
firefighter guests. "We average about 499 aircraft operations, landings, 
takeoffs, passovers, or aborted approaches per day, come rain, snow or 
shine."

"Whew, and I thought LAX was busy." mumbled Marco.

"Mac Arthur is framed by four major roadways. Railroad Avenue N, 
Lincoln Avenue E, Lakeland Ave SW, Smithtown Avenue W, Veterans 
Memorial Highway 454 S. See the maps taped to the front of your folders."
Ted prompted.

The gang did so, as Hallie turned on a small light on the stove so they
could see better.
 
The youngest Rorchek smiled, indicating a new aerial image on the wall. 
"We're much more than just runways and airport terminals. We're a fully
functional industrial complex at MacArthur. We have aircraft hangers that 
have welding and cutting operations, which hold flammable liquids used in 
paint stripping. We have a major fuel refinery with its extensive piping system, 
two restaurants, a taxi and bus station, one hotel, a minor medical clinic, and a 
great height communications array which we share with a television 
broadcasting station. We have a power plant, and both bottled and bulk
oxygen storage tanks located in buildings adjacent to many active power 
and fuel sources."

Joe Rorchek piped up, speaking from the darkness where he sat, still
paying close attention. "To organize and navigate such a complex set up, we 
operate all positional references based on an alphanumeric azimuth grid system. 
In the event of an emergency, copies of this daily will be distributed to all control 
tower personnel, emergency response vehicles and ambulances in our service
area, between our own fire rescue teams and to any others with legal, legitimate 
interests by couriers."

"You mean, like the press?" Kelly guessed unpleasantly.

"Like the press." Joe agreed equally vehement emotionally. "They may not be 
allowed to film any accident scene, but they can talk about it all they like. Getting 
facts straight about where and what things are called on the news if anything bad 
happens, is still very high on Theresa Ryder's list, for the public's sake."

"I guess." sighed Chet and Martelli together.

Ted imparted more for the Station 51gang's orientation lecture.
"As airport rescue and fire fighting personnel, we have to know color coding 
systems for all aspects of aircraft fueling and their runways traffic markings. 
As guests, you only need to know just the one when driving out there. This 
yellow triple band/bar and line pattern that you see here. When you see one 
of these on the pavement anywhere, at any time, stop on less than a dime
and immediately look both ways. For seeing one in front of your bumper 
means an aircraft's coming in front of you from a perpendicular direction, 
from either the left or the right in less than a minute and a half." he warned.

When he felt that their firefighter guests had effectively learned the marking, he
clicked back to the asimuth grid map from earlier. "The runway names at ISLIP 
are based on the degrees of a directional compass. Their names at each end 
are the degree headings the pilot must enter in order to follow that particular 
runway's exact parallel from its two available relative approach directions."

"Wow, so he's given a navigational clue long before he even sees the airport?"
Lopez asked.

"That's right. Some of these newer pilots coming in need all the help they can
get. We're very near several flight schools." Ted chuckled. Then he rapidly
clicked through several sheets of typed instructions. "Don't sweat these slides I
just rushed through. You'll be learning all of our flights routes and landing and 
takeoff procedures tomorrow when we get a tour of the control tower." the short
light haired firefighter said.

During the next pause, Mike Stoker raised a questioning hand.  Ted called on him,
by pointing.

Stoker asked. "I'm curious. What kinds of apparatus and equipment do you have 
here that we don't have back home in California?"

Ted lifted his chin, peering around the kitchen. "Rags, where are you? You're
better than me on that subject. Want in?"

"You bet." boomed the big bass voiced chef turned fireman. The burly dark skinned
man started in eagerly, catching Stoker's interested eyes with his own.
"Our basic equipment is pretty much the same as yours at home. We have only minor 
differences in protective gear. We have higher temperature and aluminized hazardous 
chemical tolerance grades, Levels One through Four. But be clear that none of them 
can withstand any direct fire contact. Tool differences are serrated axes for metal 
cutting, and mobile water tender vehicles that we can deploy to be feeder
tanks for either foam or water attacks. Our handline hose techniques are the same 
as the ones you guys are already familiar with but we use them just for interior aircraft 
operations or enclosed building fires only. And we have industrial strength large size
pneumatic air bags which we can utilize to lift large aircraft or debris. Easy enough
to use. The higher you need something lifted, the more bags you fill. Just back up
your lifts with normal cribbing."

Joe Rorchek turned on the lights suddenly and he faced everybody sternly with
thoughtful hands behind his back. "For standard operating procedures here,...at no 
time during any actual emergency, will any guest firefighter personnel be out of their 
self contained breathing apparatuses." he ordered directly.
"Consider one a permanent feature on your body to go along with a pair of thermal 
gloves you'll be receiving in the morning. For you two paramedics especially, heed 
my orders. If we all get a call and fire victims need ventilating, use a positive pressure 
valve mask from a separate air or oxygen resuscitator instead of donating your own 
air masks. Is that clear?"

"Yes, sir.." said the whole gang. Even Hank.

"Harris, sorry for interrupting. Go ahead." prompted the chief, flicking off the lights again.

Rags, clicked to another photo slide showing images of an aircraft on fire.
"Once fire is burning actively at an airport, all the air visually contaminated by smoke is 
automatically toxic due to the amount of fuel and chemical hazards we already have 
present in the areas that may have been compromised. Planes don't burn cleanly 
like most other structures do."

He showed everyone a closeup of a stock image of an impossibly bright burst
of plasma around a doomed mock fuselage during an exercise.
"An aircraft crash is also a location of a lot of magnesium fires which burn far 
hotter than regular fire by many magnitudes. A mag fire is one that only certain 
chemicals put out. Water reacts with magnesium, causing large explosions and the 
spread of more magnesium ignition points as you know."

Eagerly, Engineer Martelli broke in. "Recently, us ARFF have developed a powder 
called G-1 that we can hand shovel onto mag fires to knock them down."

"Wow, a mag supressing dry chemical that isn't sand?" Cap asked, amazed.

"That's right." Al told him happily. 

"How much is needed?" Hank wondered.

"Only half an inch at the minimum." Martelli told him. "I've seen it work really fast
on a test fire."

Rags nodded, too, continuing.
"Guys, our firefighting vehicles are larger than most non-airport apparatus that
you might have seen, we're fully armoured against thermal radiation, with high 
pressure nozzles/turrets on all sides, including under the chassis to prevent any 
spreading fire from burning the under carriage. They can also provide two different 
extinguishing agents at the same time.  We use either water/foam.. or Halon 1301."

"What's Halon 1301?" Mike Stoker asked. It was a new technology to him.

Hallie replied, as she cleaned up empty dessert plates from the table quietly. 
"It's a clean agent that leaves no corrosive residue inside electrical gear or 
computers when used. It vaporizes quickly into clouds that break the chain of 
almost any combustible reaction in progress chemically and by actively 
displacing physical oxygen still in the air."

"Uhhh, so we can't be in an enclosed space when its used?" asked Chet.

"Not unless you want to suffocate." Hank said from the corner of his mouth.
 
Harris didn't laugh, letting that dangerous warning soak in.
"Our foams of choice are two kinds. Alcohol Type Concentrate and Aqueous Film 
Forming Foam, which can be used with either fresh, salt or brackish water. Both 
float on fuel, spread fast and both have a bleeding effect which cools down burning 
materials continually as they get agitated by the flames. Also, they self seal 
when disturbed, like soap bubbles, locking out exposure to the open air."

Joe Rorchek added another caution.
"A side note. Be very familiar with what refill containers your training firefighter shows 
you and their differences tomorrow. If you were to accidently combine ATC and 
AFFF in the same tank, a gel forms that clogs up a turret nozzle allowing only water 
to escape. And that's the last thing we need on a fuel fire that's still near any of our 
people."

"Oh, telling point." breathed Marco in horror. "I saw a rookie flare up an oil
fire in Burbank once with a water line. He almost singed his captain in the process."

The others cringed. 

Mike sat up straighter at a slide shot of one of the airport fire station's trucks in action.
"What kind of nozzles do you use? I can't tell."

"Strictly nonaspirating. We've found they provide greater water pressures and can 
deliver their streams much farther out from the trucks." Al Martelli replied.
"Our first in vehicle of choice out of our two crash response trucks is the RIV or 
rapid intervention vehicle. It has the ability to get to an incident site, three minutes 
after receiving the initial alarm call, to anywhere on the airport grounds. It's designed 
to extinguish the fire before rescue personnel enter the effected aircraft or structure."

Hallie looked up, gesturing at the well lit garage bay shining through the window
at them from the top of the stairs. "We also have various smaller rescue and medical 
units we can deploy for strictly medical calls not involving heavy extrication or fire." 
Green shared as she began to wash the dishes she had gathered quietly.

Joe looked at Station 51's men one by one.
"Keep in mind that all of our trucks can lay ground sweeping foam or perform roof 
mounted turret attacks, so if we get a Code Red, hop into the first one nearest you.
It'll be good enough."

Chris, the tall brother answered the question that was in Roy's eyes, unspoken.
"Also in any emergency, we have a doctor on stand by who can fly out to us 
on very short notice from a nearby county park's hospital to oversee any
serious medical call that might need a paramedic."

Johnny lit up in sudden recognition at an idea. "Would her name by any chance be
Joanne Almstedt?"

"Yes. That's right." Chris replied, surprised. "Have you met?

"You can say that for sure. We're.."  Gage smirked cattily, opening his mouth.

"...well aquainted." broke in Cap. "We hunted the park before we came here and
did a few first aid assists in between." he explained, clearing out his throat before
Gage embarrassed them all with another Don Juan story.

"Oh. She's nice." Chris agreed, suddenly dreamy.

Johnny frowned.

Joe Rorchek stood up again, taking the slide show control from Martelli's fingers.
"I'll finish up here. This next bit's very important to get down right the first time."
he ordered, not being offensive.
"Light signals. Learn these next five.  In the event of a power out, the control tower 
will use the following signals using a naval light gun. Flashing green light- Clear to 
proceed down runway. Steady red light- Stop. Do not enter. Flashing red light 
or flashing runway lights- Clear active runway or landing area immediately. Flashing 
white lights- Return to fire station or starting point. Alternating green/ red flashing 
lights- That one is not so specific. It's a general warning. Exercise extreme caution."


The chief ended the slide show visuals and Rags got up to turn the main lights back 
on full. "Our back up sister station is the Holbrook Fire Department at 390 Terry 
Boulevard. That's seven blocks directly east of our location from the airport. They 
have three substations. Headquarters (Lighting Engine Company, Jupiter Truck 
Company & Fire-Medic Company) housing 1 engine, 1 tower ladder, 1 heavy 
rescue, 2 ambulances, 1 brush truck & numerous first responder & support 
vehicles. Sub-Station 1 (Sun-Vet Engine Company) is located on Church St 
west of Broadway Ave housing 2 engines & 1 mini-pumper & a van. Sub-Station 2 
(Eagle Engine Company) is located on Patchogue-Holbrook Rd & Greenbelt 
Pkwy, houses 2 engines, 1 ambulance & 1 mini-pumper.  Josh Tyler is the top 
chief. He's a good man. His call sign's on your cards."

Joe invited the gang to leave their dishes for Hallie and follow him down into
the cavernous vehicle bay below them. He led them by each huge fire response
truck in turn as Al Martelli and the others each took a truck and fired up their lights 
and interior consoles for their guests, for show.

The chief added onto his talk.
"Halbrook Headquarters is our secondary command center of choice if a safe 
one cannot be found at the airport during an actual incident."

Cap asked the question. "Has one ever occurred here at ISLIP?"

"Yes. On April 4, 1955, a United Airlines test flight crashed shortly after take off 
at MacArthur. The flight killed everyone onboard which included three crew 
members. The coast bound lost control soon after take off." Chris added. 

"What was the cause?" Cap wondered. 

Joe sighed sadly, pointing to a photograph of the wreckage framed and hung 
on the brick wall near them. "The investigators finally decided it ten years later. 
They ruled that it was most likely a bird strike."

"Didn't the control tower notice flocks flying overhead that day? You're so
near the ocean." Marco remarked, startled.

Chris shrugged morosely, remembering his airport's history.
"We didn't have a decent radar back then to differentiate a flock from just
minor wind activity. If we had, we would have aborted that take off immediately, 
mister. It was a telling mistake. We finally got our specialized radar two year later
when the military moved in. It was their official offer for some space to set up a base
of operations. They've been here ever since."

"Will they be deployed in the event of a mass casualty call?" Hank asked.

"Yes. They'll shuttle supplies from the medical clinic to where we say
and fly patients and bodies out as needed to area facilities." Joe answered.

"Bodies?" Chet gulped.
 
"I'm afraid so." Al Martelli told him. 

Joe studied the ground and shuffled one well polished shoe. 
"Crashes at airports have a high risk of incurring fatalities, no matter how soft 
an impact impaired planes might experience. They're very fragile things."

"Hmm.." Kelly mumbled.

Marco leaned into him, whispering. "Think about it. A jet airliner is essentially a 
tin can on a rocket fuel tank surrounded by fresh oxygen and an electrical power 
supply."

"What a scary thought. No wonder I don't like flying." Chet gaped.

"We could always go back to snail slow hot air balloons and zephyrs." Marco
suggested. 

"That'll really be a boost for the sake of progress." Kelly said sarcastically.

"In about fifty years." Mike Stoker piped up.

"Shh, I'm trying to listen.." said Gage, hanging on Joe's every word.

On a different tack, the white haired Rorchek looked up. 
"That's all for tonight, boys." said the chief, sensing that he was losing
his audience. "Shower, hit the head, change into your uniforms, and then Rags'll
drag out the medical gear so Roy and Johnny can familiarize themselves with
what we use. We have a busy night in store for us. The terminal's at peak
capacity. It's the usual crunch "holiday"." he remarked dryly, using local talk.

"Oh?" asked Cap. "Which?" Hank and the gang didn't get the joke the other 
ARFFers were groaning at.

"It's a Monday. Glad we all got in a solid meal." Joe replied wearily, shrugging 
as he headed for the radio room. "See you fellas later for the 1800 hours staff 
briefing back upstairs? It'd be nice if we got one in before the radios start 
jumping with mundane medical calls."

"You got it." Hank said for all of his men.

--------------------------------------------------------

Photo:  ISLIP airport and control tower.

Photo:  Halbrook Fire Department's bay.

Photo:  Airport firefighters getting a lecture in a vehicle bay.

Photo: Chief Joe Rorchek in front of white brick.

Photo:  Airport Fire Engineer Al Martelli lecturing formulae.

Photo: A side view of a lime yellow airport fire response vehicle in a drive bay. 

Photo: Roy and Johnny commenting on something in front of them, wearing 
             street shirts.

Photo:  The ISLIP fire and rescue logo.

Photo:  Stoker and Marco listening to someone intently in a dark room.

Photo:  Long Island Mac Arthur Airport's runway map.

Photo: Chris Rorchek, airport firefighter, looking serious in a close up.

Photo:  ISLIP airport's glass dome terminal.

Photo:  A busy airport concourse at a terminal at ISLIP.

Photo: Ted Rorchek and Hallie Green looking sarcastically dismayed 
            at the news of a busy night to come, seated at a table.

**************************************************
Subject: Storm Presence...
From: 	patti k (pattik1@hotmail.com)
Sent: 	Thu 7/30/09 9:33 PM

Roy and Johnny saundered into the kitchen area where another pot of 
steaming soup had been placed on the table with ample hard rolls for 
dipping along with decanters of strong coffee. They helped themselves, 
knowing the food was a buffer against some new weather that was moving 
into MacArthur Airport's immediate neighborhood.

They eyed up the windows of the firehouse observation deck overlooking 
all the runways with an appraising eye.

Joe Rorchek noticed. "Snow for tomorrow morning. But that won't
be the ongoing issue for the tower boys then. The ocean fog around three
a.m. will be the telling factor. We get an inversion layer this time of year 
that obsures even our high intensity lights. Arrivals will be running on instruments 
only. And when the ground's warm and the air's cold above, we usually get some 
minor icing problems on the smaller airplanes on approach. Their ailerons have
a tendency to get stiff and slow to respond. Might make for a few sticky 
situations for any new incoming pilots not yet familiar or comfortable with 
our runways' non-traditional layout. One or two newbies usually freak out and 
require a flyby or two for a missed landing."

"What happens then, for us, staffing wise?" Roy asked.

"We might roll out for those calls as standbys, running dark so any passengers 
won't see us waiting in the wings." 

"It'll be that bad, eh?" Kelly remarked. 

"That's not bad at all. Just the usual standard operating procedures cautions. 
Pilots have to learn how to fly somewhere, don't they?" Ted chuckled.

Joe bit into a bread roll with relish as he doled out his soup. "The control tower 
gets a little nuts on the radio during the first hours of gray out and we're gonna leave 
them entirely alone for the duration, being the nice professional little airport 
firefighters that we are... Isn't that right, boys?" he hinted to Ted, Rags, Chris and 
Chet in a warning to stave off any future planned prank calls or security camera 
tampering that they had currently percolating on the back burner for their practical
joke rivals in the control tower.

"We're angels, chief." Harris promised. "See our halos?"

"They're glowing." the elder Rorchek quipped. "Keep them shiny."

DeSoto had a question. "If Johnny and I have to use any controlled medications, 
where do we resupply? At Stony Brook Hospital?"

Joe shook his head.
"We have a pharmaceuticals cabinet downstairs, locked. Here's the combination." 
he offered, writing down the number sequence onto a piece of paper from his 
pocket notebook. "It's located next to the squad's diesel pump, west side wall. It's 
blue. You'll also find our medical oxygen cylinders stored on a rack there adjacent. 
The paramedic med use forms are in every truck and on a slateboard hanging by 
that cabinet. If you need a doctor or more paramedic backup, just use your handheld
radios and ask for them. They'll respond in person to you usually within four minutes."

"How come?" Gage asked, surprised. 

Hallie Green spoke up, grinning. 
"We've no hospital base station set up at Brook for us per se. Our administrators 
order on scene interaction when it's needed since we have several necessary radio 
black out regions in the terminal so the control tower can operate freely without radar 
interference. A biophone would screw up the works or just get entirely masked
over." 

"I hadn't considered that." Johnny said honestly.

Joe snapped his fingers, remembering something else. "Oh, another thing. Any 
ambulance or chopper crew you summon, will find you automatically. Security always 
escorts them in to the medical or fire site."

"Thanks." Roy smiled, taking the slip and putting it in his pocket. "Your gear's very 
standard from what we saw. With a few unexpected extras."

Gage laughed. "Yeah, like those instant heating pads. Didn't even know they made 
em that big."

"Our service area gets a lot of low body temperature incidents. Even on just injured 
employee calls. Most folks who work out here are running around in the weather for 
their whole eight hour shift and some regular "offenders" never ever seem to find 
proper time enough to eat for refueling when we get our busier periods." Chris 
shrugged.

"Boy did we learn that this weekend with a couple of kayakers." Hank said. "Felt the
strain ourselves a few times." 

Gage cleared his throat uncomfortably, remembering his river diving experience.

Cap didn't look at him nor did he clarify that point to spare Johnny some still fresh
embarrassment.

"Hence the soup." Harris rumbled, pointing to their meal source. "It's a permanent 
fixture on the kitchen table every fall and winter." Rags said, stirring the big pot 
lovingly. "I keep it full and steaming, twenty four/seven. At my expense."

"Wow, thanks." said Marco. 

"No problem. Just keep yourselves warm and healthy, and I'll be happy." he nodded 
seriously. "Some of the runway crew are starting to take me up on my open invitation. 
You might see a couple of shivering strangers coming in here every once in a while 
to chow down. Let them."

"Can we throw a blanket or two at them while they're here?" Roy smirked.

"Feel free." Rags said. "That's what Hallie does. They never yell at her. She's a girl."

"Who says?" Green protested. "I get a lot of trucker mouth attitude on a lot of days."

"Yeah, but then they hush up fast when you throw only a smile at them." Al Martelli 
said.

Hallie preened. "Huh." she smirked happily."Guess it's my Southern charms. Take 
a lesson from me."

"No thanks. I covet my tough New York City exterior." said the curly haired 
engineer. "It makes people listen. They all just get out of my way whenever
I'm driving in my trucks."

"They get out of the way because our fire trucks are monsters, Al." Ted teased. 

"Whatever.." Martelli scoffed, slurping his soup noisily, mock offended.

Green leaned into the Station 51 gang. "He's really a softie." she whispered.
"Only wants to be tough."

"Oh, you mean like Stoker here?" Johnny quipped, pointing across the table to
where their own engineer was peppering his minestrone.

Mike blushed.

The phone on the wall rang. Al and Chris had a race to see who answered it first.
Chris won. "ISLIP Fire and Rescue.."  His eyes glazed over as the operator
connected him. Then his expression dawned in understanding. "Oh, ok. The dark
haired one who's naturally tan? Yeah, he's right here. I'll put him on." Then he 
cradled the receiver in his hand. "John Gage? This is for you."

"Me?" Johnny puzzled. Then his whole face lit up. "Maybe that's Morgan!" He
said brightly. He clapped his hands together in celebration with a hoot. 

"Hiya sweetheart. Are you keep your rotors hot? I miss you so much I'm aching." 
he said, taking the phone from the tallest Rorchek, who scoffed laughed as he 
walked away when he overheard that remark. Johnny frowned at him, not
getting the joke.

Dixie McCall pulled the phone away from her ear on the other end of the line
to save an eardrum or two. ## I guess I miss you, too, Honey Buns." she guffawed.

Gage immediately colored. "Oh! Geez. I'm SO sorry, Dix. I thought you were--"

##..somebody else. I can just imagine.## she drolled in smokey amusement. 
"So, how's it going out there in Winter Wonderland? You boys having fun yet?"

"Just getting started." Johnny said, suddenly switching on the speaker phone so
everybody else could hear the conversation. "We had a couple of first aid assists 
with some of the rangers at the park, but nothing big. And get this. Chet bagged his 
first deer! Smile! You're on speaker."

##He did? I am? Well congratulations, Chet! I think I'll bum a steak or two off you 
when you get back.## Dixie's warm voice said, filling the kitchen.

Kelly chuckled. "You got it. How's tricks?"

## Not cooking. Rampart's been slow. Dr. Brackett's doing his usual manic thing 
climbing the walls in the ER, harrassing all the nursing students again. Joe's on 
break. And Dr. Morton's busy with the second call of the evening. A kid with a bean 
stuck in his ear.##

"Rivetting." Gage quipped. "We're just eating and getting all aquainted over here."

"Like a fish to water." Cap amended. 

Gage sniggered. "Yeah, practical jokes and everything. Boy, was this phone call a 
surprise. We're sure glad you called just to check up on little ol' us."

##My pleasure. I was bored and, the whole place just isn't the same without you fellas
drumming up some business, so hurry back.##

"Don't rush us. We've a whole, brand new occupation to learn." Cap laughed, cupping 
his hand over his mouth so his voice carried.

##So learn fast!## Dixie fired back over the intercom. ## Then don't use it in real life or
I'll start to fret if I hear about it on the news. And that's the last thing I need. I've already
had too much coffee.##

"There's always Narcan." Roy teased her.

##Funny man. Joanne says hi. I just spoke to her. She was bored, too, with both the 
kids off to camp.##

"That was planned." said Roy.

##Yeah, but you're not together.## McCall chided lightly.

"We have the rest of our lives to do that once the kids graduate college and move out. 
There's no rush." DeSoto told her, amused. "I could say the same thing about you and 
Kel, if I wanted to be real nosy."

##Probe away. And I have an answer for you, Roy. I don't think Admin would like it too 
much if a doctor and his nurse were to act like an item while we're still on duty.##

Chet jumped on the bandwagon. "Yeah, but you guys get off duty. Same as we do."

##Not this month.## Dixie snorted. ##Upstairs so far, has scheduled us completely 
opposite, the evil witch.##

"Dixie!" Johnny chided, surprised at the comment.

##Well, it must be true. Just the other day, she called down asking if I was happy just
for the sake of argument.##

"Oh, yeah? What did you tell her?" Stoker wondered, biting his lip in amusement.

##I told her that if she was looking for a place to sharpen her pencils, her brand new 
office was plenty good enough, without getting overly defensive.## 

"That's pretty neutral." Hank agreed, smiling.

##D*med straight. And she got the message, too. Hopefully Kel and I can start having
breakfast together by the beginning of next week. Well, got to go. Looks like a baby
with the sniffles just walked in.##

"See you later, Dix. Bye bye." Gage said, and he hung up the phone.

"Formidable woman." Ted pursed his lip.

"That's our head nurse back at home. She trained both Johnny and I in as paramedics." 
Roy shared. "We all love her as better than a good friend."

"I can tell. Wish our nursing staff at the hospital were as friendly." Hallie said.
"Ours seems to have a thing against paramedics. They say it should be outlawed that
there are people outside of the hospital setting, who are practicing medicine."

"That's insane. We save a h*ll of a lot of lives." Gage gaped.

"That's what we keep telling them." Chris said. "But they won't listen."

Johnny was suddenly rapt and very serious.
"They will. They did back at home enough to start us out." Gage insisted. "Maybe it'll
take something big with EMS and Fire all working in action together, out here,
for them to start changing their tune."

"I hope that's not the only way to prove our worth." Joe mused. "I simply refuse to 
believe that there isn't one person in town at the hospital who doesn't have an open 
mind. And I've always been a strong advocate for paramedics in the firehouse."

"Here. Here." said Cap. "Took me a while myself, but now I love em."

Just then, Steven Beck walked in, the flight paramedic from the medical center.
His parka was wet with icy sleet and he was soaked to the skin. "Ah, the Station 51 
crew. Just the men I wanted to see." Then he turned to Joe. "Chief, I think we 
have a situation developing."

"Oh?" Rorchek entoned, suddenly standing. Both men headed for the radio room.
"Steven, has the CT issued an alert for your choppers?"

"No. We've just been grounded by the weather."

"Let's go." Joe gestured to the others. "Whatever's going on is sure to involve all 
of us."

Everybody abandoned their soup bowls and followed.

------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

In the control tower, things were far from peaceful as full night fell over the airfield.

Gene Skidwell, the supervisor on duty, grabbed another microphone from the
counter. "CN6541, do you copy? Tune to audio and listen for one of the four 
following beacons....
    "OLD FIELD POINT LIGHT  at 189/10.9  316  13W  OP."  And he played its
signature over the airwaves in Morse Code. " --- .--."

    " BABYLON  at 074/14.9  275  14W  BBN    "  -... -... -."
 "CLERA at 193/35.2  362  14W  JWE   "  .--- .-- . "
     "or BRIDGE at 081/38.1  414  12W  OGY    "   --- --. -.-- "   " he shared calmly.

Mike Porter, the air traffic controller who had alerted his boss a few minutes earlier,
kept filling Gene in. "Steven Beck radioed that he had seen an aircraft off course 
over the ocean while he was landing. It's gotta be them." he said, fingering their 
current target's trajectory on the radar scope underneath his fingertips. 
"Any voice reply back at all?"

"No. But their transponder's working just fine and so's his altimeter. It looks like he's 
just a little side stepped." Skidwell gathered. He toggled the master switch again. 
"CN6541, do you read? This is ISP CT on CTAF:  119.3. Respond to our directive. 
You are off course."

There only came static. 

Skidwell ran his fingers through his suddenly sweaty, thinning, gray hair.
"All right. Communications fault or not. This is oddness personified." Gene 
made a decision. "Roll the fire station. Code Red, all equipment." He sighed
in stress trying to relieve it. "We're all but blind here." Then he bit his lip, 
ending his quick thinking, but delaying anse. "I know, we can put the military on 
alert to intercept for a visual."

Mike startled, and his shock of brown wavy hair was sent rippling.
"What? We've never used them that way before. Not in the whole history of-"
Porter minced, indecisive because a normal flying plane, was remaining silent.

"Just do it!" Skidwell spat. "And tell them I don't know what runway yet."

Mike Porter scrambled to carry out his orders.

Gene immediately hit another button on their console that sent an active 
emergency alert out to all incoming aircraft. He backed up its automated 
signal with a vocal message. "All incoming flights to ISP. Holding pattern.  
I repeat. Holding pattern. We have an inflight emergency. Switch to 121.5 
EMERG for further information. All pending departures: Halt. Come to a 
complete stop off all runways. Then wait for further instructions. All flights 
in range, clear the airwaves. This is ISP CT issuing Emergency Protocol 
Index B."

-----------------------------------------------------------------------------------
The red phone on Airport Manager Theresa Ryder's desk rang just once
before she picked it up. "Ryder here." she said tersely, sitting up a little
straighter as her eyes automatically flew to the window facing the
airfield. "Gene? How bad is it?"

##As bad as hypothetically possible. A small inbound with twelve souls has
an electrical problem and is offcourse fifteen nautical miles out over the ocean.
They aren't responding to any hail but neither are they losing altitude.## Skidwell
informed her. ##I've cleared the skies and stopped ground taxis to free up the
runways.##

"Have you rolled the equipment?" she asked.

##Yes, a minute ago to stand by. But... I want to take this a step further.##

"I'm listening."

## Let's get a recon jet in the air to find and guide them in visually. ##

Theresa's nervously roaming fingers, trying to light a cigarette, dropped both.
"Can we even do that?" She said, grabbing her short black hair.

There was a pregnant pause on the phone. ##We can always ask. Beacon signals
aren't getting through according to our instruments. We think.....they may have 
a small systems fire on board.##

"Well why haven't any of their instrumentation panels picked that up yet?" Ryder 
demanded, finally shaking off her too tight business suit jacket for more breathing 
room.

## You know how some of these smaller corporate jets are run. Big on luxury, short
on- ##

"...maintenance repairs. Yes I know. The bane of my existence. But they generate 
good revenue. All right. I'll call the white hotline to the military base and explain the 
situation. Oh, Gene, before you go..." she said before he hung up.

##Yeah?##

"Start praying. We need all the help we can get."

-----------------------------------------------------------------------------------

 Photo: Ted and Joe Rorchek looking worried in the vehicle bay.

 Photo:  Roy and Johnny leaning on the squad with the engine in the background.

 Photo:  Dixie talking on a telephone.

 Photo:  Cap, seated, discussing an issue near a file cabinet.

 Photo:  A fogbound plane in the air, listing.

 Photo:  A black jacketted flight paramedic, looking up in a close shot.

 Photo:  Gene Skidwell, air traffic supervisor, wearing a head set, listening.

 Photo:  Mike Porter, a young air traffic controller, panicking in a radio headset.

 Animation:  A spinning radar showing contacts with one displaying a Mayday signal.

 Photo:  An airport control tower, surrounding by gray gloom.

 Photo:  The airport fire station rolling out, at night.

***********************************************
From:  patti k (pattik1@hotmail.com)  
Sent: Mon 8/31/09 11:16 PM 
Subject: The Basics..
 
Cap eyeballed Joe as they all gathered into the communications room.
"Chief?" he asked, prompting.

The silver haired Rorchek nodded. "Okay, guess we won't be having
that drill in the morning, boys. Time for seat of the pants shortcuts." And 
he eyed up the Zetron. "We're so far, still only at Alert 1."

"Which is?" Stoker wondered.

"An aircraft is being reported as having a problem inbound." Joe replied, 
rolling out a large map of the airport. "Study this, we'll be framing our
vehicles around any scene if it happens upwind and uphill if possible. All
the runways are tilted down east to west to drain precipitation." Joe told 
Station 51's crew. "So remember your orientation along the margins."

Then he cast his eye on the ever present weather radar over his desk. He
sighed heavily. "It had to be pink. And it's coming in fast."

Marco frowned in confusion.

Roy leaned in and explained it. "That's ice. Radar blue or green, is snow or rain."

Lopez raised his eyebrows. "I've never noticed pink before."

Martelli snorted. "That's because you live in California. In
the rest of the country, we know what winter can do really well."

"Shielded, eh?" Hallie chuckled good naturedly about their guests.

"Only in meteorology." Lopez smirked, shrugging.
But then, the seriousness of their situation wilted the youth off of his
face. "Ice is probably like oil this time of year. Slippery.. and-"

"...heavy." Ted Rorchek piped up. "It weighs down all aircraft. Even those
still in the air. Workers have to use chemicals to free it from plane wing
and tail flaps constantly during a sleetfall. And that's what this is." he said,
pointing to the cancerous pink building over their part of Long Island.

Harris looked worried.
"It's the worst it can be. I'd rather it be harmless snow. That only clogs landing
gear on actual touchdowns and shortens pilot visibility." Rags said. "They
can fly completely blind with their instruments. But not with a couple of tons
of extra weight building up on top of them."

"Not fun. I got the picture." Cap said grimly. "Joe, my men and I are worse than 
green at all of this. How are we going to team up for a response?" Hank asked 
the chief.

"One of yours to one of mine. Paired. Except for four. I'd like Mr. DeSoto
and Mr. Gage working together with Hallie and Ted in case there's a triage 
or search and rescue situation. They can all watch out for each other and still
work effectively as Hazmat firefighters, too, as an alternate." Joe decided.

"Agreed." Cap nodded. "How about me?"

"Act as Safety for me. I'll be the Incident Commander if there's a crash. But I
promise you, we're not going to be alone for this. I'm calling Holbrook now." he 
said, picking up the phone to their sister stations in Patchogue. "They're not wired 
to the tower through a Zetron panel like we are."

All the firefighters got to work preparing partnerships and memorizing the map.

-----------------------------------------------------------------------------
The corporate commuter jet CN6541 seemed packed with people from nose cone
to tail. Businessman Don Estridge leaned over to his associate partner and laughed. 
"Only twelve of us bought onto this trip, eh?" he joked to Christian Meier. "If I get
another elbow in my face, I'm gonna strangle that cocktail server." he grumbled, still
rubbing his face where another businessman had bumped him in the turbulence 
they were experiencing.

Meier grinned ruefully. "Free liquor. And we don't have to drive. Chauffers, remember?
If I wasn't going home to the wife and kids, I'd be snockered, too, along with the rest
of them. Shush on the waitress, Don, she's only doing her job."

"For the tips." Estridge scowled, trying to read his newspaper over the jostling they 
were receiving from the flight.

"So were we a few hours ago. And we're rich. Only our company could have struck
that deal and you know it." Meier insisted, youthfully passionate.

Don rubbed a few weary fingers through his greasy, thinning hair. "All I know is my
flipping stomach. Aren't you the least bit motion sick by now?"

"Me? No. I've a stomach of iron. I'm used to flying into this airport. They got land sea
breezes that'll curl your hair sometimes." Christian smirked as he checked out how
well his blond Superman look was holding in the glint of a chrome cigarette lighter.
 
"So how far out are we? Seems like things are taking forever." the older Estridge 
groused, wiping off his sweating face with a hankerchief.

Christian studied his expensive watch. "Hmm. I can't see ocean down there, but it's
six thirty five. We should be landing in just under ten minutes. Tops. I promise." he 
grinned. "I found our ace pilot myself. He's good. He's real good."

"Tell that pilot my stomach wants him to level us--- Ohhh!" Then Don paled.

"Don?" Christian asked, dropping all pretense of humor. "What's the matter? You
aren't kidding. You're really sick! Tell me what's wrong. I- I'll get a doctor. We've gotta
have one on board, you know how attracted they are to the stock market. They follow
us like moths to the--"

Suddenly there was a scream. "Fire!" Another female voice took up the panicked cry.
"In the bathroom! Somebody help!"

Estridge groaned and suddenly began to gasp. "Oh, great. Just what I need. A BBQ."
Then he stiffened up in his seat. "Meier, you get that doctor. I don't think this is 
indigestion." he winced. "Ah,... my chest!"

Christian was torn between wanting to rush over there to the sudden excitement at
the front, or stay with his friend. He decided to let the eight other men in suits handle 
the lit cigarette in the garbage problem. One already had out a fire extinguisher. Meier 
gripped Don's hand and found it cold, clammy. He made a decision. "Geez, Don. You're 
really not good. I'll be right back. Don't go anywhere.." he stammered, climbing and then 
almost falling out of his bucket seat, adding his own emergency to the first one. "Hey! 
Somebody listen! Is there a doctor here? I've got a man most likely having a heart 
attack in 13B!"

-----------------------------------------------------------------------------


Photo:  Cap looking concerned by a fire station bay door.

Photo:  Ted and Joe Rorchek in the duty room, tense.

Photo:  A control tower Zetron alarm notification machine, lit red.

Animation:  A radar of inflight aircraft blips with two in very near collision. 

Photo:  A nervous, smoking Don Estridge, business in a passenger seat.

Photo:  Christian Meier, youthful entrepeneur, being served a drink by a server
             on a flight. 

Photo:  Fire burning across the ceiling of a jumbo jet.

Photo:  Don, slumped sick in his seat, a female passenger looking scared nearby.

**********************************************
Subject: Tempi...
From: 	patti k (pattik1@hotmail.com)
Sent: 	Fri 9/04/09 1:03 AM

In the deep gloom of the ice sleeting sky, a military jet appeared like an
even darker smudge just out of range of the distressed business jet.

Its pilot levelled off fifty feet from a wingtip and slightly below CN6541and 
attempted to open immediate communications. First it waggled wings
to assess the jet pilot's physical condition in that universal aviation speak 
of howdy.

The corporate cessna waggled back and her emergency air masked flier 
gave only a modest thumbs up about flight ability through the windscreen.

The military pilot nodded and then aimed a light gun up through his plexiglass 
cockpit, flashing colors. 

The corporate pilot brought one out likewise in the form of a modified flashlight 
with green, red and white filters. Morse code ruled the next few minutes mixed 
with FAA color signal sequences which shared volumes in moments. 

When they were done, the military pilot pulled clear for a bit and radioed home with 
his findings.##Alpha Nine to ISP. Contact made. Pilot is still in control, but there's 
been some damage to navigation and her onboard radio due to an electrical short. 
That resulted in a fire in the biff, now extinguished. Air quality's fair in the passenger 
compartment. But there's another complication, a medical emergency on board, 
a man whose current condition's unknown at this time. The pilot doesn't know for sure 
about him since he had to seal off the flight cabin for safety because of smoke.##

Airport Manager Theresa Ryder patched the incoming audio report through to the fire 
department's intercom so that they could hear the live transmission on delayed play
back. ##ISP: We read you, Nine. Think you can guide our jet down visually? We've 
cleared runway 24 for your use and clearing your immediate airspace is next. 
Equipment is ready.##

##Roger that, ISP. That's up to their pilot to see if he can follow me. I copy, it's a go.##
reported the military man. ##Our current position matches your radar.##

##Mark.## said Theresa, locking down the latest screen grab from her live controls.
##I confirm. Radar is clear and active. Good luck.##

## I'll try and swing back to take a look at the passengers, maybe I can learn a little
more about their sick man by looking into the plane.##

The military ace eased back and leveled even with the wing of CN6541. Inside,
he saw pandemonium through a haze of diminishing smoke. A pair of businessmen were
crouched on the floor near an empty seat and the pilot could see a back bobbing up
and down. He raced quickly to the front of the commuter into talk position and flashed
an urgent message for the flier to follow him as quickly as possible. Then he radioed the 
ground once more with another update.

Hesitantly, with sluggish dips and turns, the mid sized cessna obeyed without question.

Theresa received a last transmission from the military pilot that made her eyes bulge
out in disbelief, about the CPR. But then she got to work. Her fingers danced over her 
computer as she composed an automated notification alert. Then swiftly, Ryder activated 
the second alarm on the Zetron remotely to the control tower in an electronic order, for 
them to share with her firefighters.

Then she picked up the red phone. "Tower, alert TRACON to our emergency on my 
authorization. Call their regional FAA Control Center and have them step up helping
us divert all traffic well away from ISLIP. We have about a minute before they're in
possible impact range over inhabited neighborhoods."

-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Joe Rorchek looked up as a brassy klaxon sounded on the wall. His display screen
changed to having just one graphic on it, which he pointed out to the others. "We roll. 
Double mission. Possible preventative crash and then a resuscitation to follow. 
Move out!" he shouted. "Three miles is less than three minutes."

-------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Photo:  Military jet flying overhead.

Photo: A commuter jet flying in cloudy conditions.

Photo:  A man receiving CPR by businessmen.

Photo:  An aircraft emergency warning on a computer screen.

Photo:   Chief Joe Rorchek looking tense in a closeup.

Photo: Roy and Johnny wearing turnout, at the airport, looking up.

**************************************************
Subject : Lull Before The Storm..
From: 	patti k (pattik1@hotmail.com)
Sent: 	Tue 9/08/09 10:41 AM

Quickly, both gangs outfitted in Hazmat silver with turned on
scba air inside their suits as they piled into the massive
semi automated airport apparatuses and strapped in.

Roy, Johnny, Hallie and Ted climbed into the smallish
red Fire Rescue truck laden with the medical and extrication
equipment and they all roared out into the growing storm.

Already, in the distance, they could see all three Holbrook
fire station companies' lights rushing down a busy avenue 
toward one of the airport's outer gates by the guard shack.

Joe Rorchek went live on helmet speakers, handy talkie and
intercom. ##Truck 2 lay full foam with your under turrets on the 
downwind leg side. Don't lose any speed. Truck three, up
the middle. Truck four, terminal side opposite, same thing.
Stagger for safety and overlap your foam application. I don't
want to see any bare pavement. We've time enough to do
one pass before we have to abandon.## he ordered.
##Holbrook, sub stations 1 and 2, position mid point in case 
they miss R24 completely. Holbrook HQ send your ambulances
to the end of the runway off field. The rest of you join up with us 
upwind. Direction is easterly at twenty with ice. No deviations. 
Tower is tracking.##

Rapidly, their configuration was laid out along the runway just
as the Code Red trucks finished blanketing the entire runway 
course in thick, smothering foam over the icy glaze the weather
was depositing.

Chief Rorchek barked final orders when they reached the end of
the runway. ##All right, clear. Clear. Clear! CR : Regroup midway 
flanking. Let's hope for a bilateral flame out. Everybody, keep all your
spots on the foam strip to show the pilot. He's gonna have to
make some adjustments with flaps while on that.##

An eerie silence returned as the hissing of the last foam nozzles 
died away to leave just the sound of gusting winds and rustling sleet
pellets that were raining down onto their windshields. The bloody haze 
from their emergency lights cast far into the night, creating a surreal 
bubble of warm color, almost like fire, which stained the illuminated 
foam on the runway pink with light.

In pairs, all the cojoined silver suited firefighters gathered in front of 
their bulky idling trucks whose automatic aerial turrets stood primed 
and ready, already dripping with foam.

Joe Rorchek issued instructions globally to their guest team.
## When she comes to a complete stop, these are your orders.
Nobody gets out until all exterior fire is extinguished. Then place
your ladders upwind near the evacuation slides when they deploy
and get ready to enter and assist people escaping. Busses are 
on their way to shelter those walking and the ambulances will handle
the more seriously wounded. Our responsibility is fire suppression first,
rescue second, then medical treatment last once the plane is fully
contained and clear of all the immediate fire and chemical fuel 
hazards. ##

Nearby, Chet Kelly could see Roy, Johnny, Hallie and Ted
in their silver suits bustling about the medical truck, preparing
drag and triage gear. He found himself moving a little bit 
away from his own assigned truck with the biggest Rorchek 
brother, closer to where those in command stood. He saw they
were watching the sky with night binoculars, their handy talkies
at the ready in plastic bags, sitting on the hood of their vehicle.
One was tuned directly to the Tower's frequency, on air 
with CN6541. The air traffic controllers sounded casual and
everyday, like a walk in the park. But the plane to which they
were directing hails was utterly silent. Its positional coordinates 
were being called in by the military pilot continually.

A sonic boom splintered the night and pushed against the 
firefighter's silver suit skins. It was a second fast military jet patrolling
the air space immediately over the airport to make sure all
other flights were indeed well away from the area with their own 
portable radar. He was completely invisible to the eye, but manifested
to those below with sound concussions whenever he turned into a new 
vector.

A random glance at the highway to the south showed Kelly that
drivers were beginning to see the signs of trouble at the airport through
all the red lights. They were starting to slow into gawker traffic jams as
they passed by.

Kelly suddenly felt very very insignificant. He mumbled.
"This is big, Cap. This is really--" 

Stanley heard Chet take in a very big gasp of nerves and he 
heard fear choking his voice for the first time in all his years 
working with Kelly. He pulled his binoculars down and glanced 
up in surprise. "Chet. Why are you away from-?"

 Chet started almost whispering into his hazmat helmet hood. 
"Cap...I don't know if I can stand here... just waiting... while I watch 
all of those people .....crash." His voice broke. He sounded sick.

Cap took in one long look at Chet and gestured him aside while
the others waited at their positions with their foam and water
trucks surrounding the runway that they had coated with retardant.

"Okay, Chet. Here's the trick." And he waved at Martelli to take
over observing for him. Al jumped down from the control cab of 
his truck to take a place next to Joe on the concrete.
"You reach a point where there's so much dog doo pouring
down the pipe that you can't worry or panic any longer because
you have no choices to make. You just deal with what's immediate.
Tactical rather than strategic level. If the tactical gets too much,
I default to operational. Does that make sense?"

"No." said a very subdued and quiet Kelly.

"It will today. As a captain, I've faced enormity like this situation a few 
times before in my career. It...I.. hey. Quit snowballing." And he turned 
Chet away from the growing lights in the sky to shield him.

Chet just stared blankly at Cap, not seeing, but so focused that
there was as yet no steam clouding his faceplate. He was licking dry lips.
Finally, he spoke. "What am I supposed to do here?" Kelly sighed, 
scared. "I don't know what to do.."

Stanley radiated confidence and calm so strongly that it made
Kelly blink in recognition. "Basically, you do what you can." Cap 
said softly and placed a comforting glove on Chet's shoulder.  
"You let go and put yourself on autopilot."

Kelly bristled, the fear turning to anger.
"That's not very d*mned funny." Chet said, firm and sharp, trying to
break free of Cap's firm hold.

Stanley didn't look away, nor did he release Chet's shoulder. He held on.
"Chet, I wasn't trying to be crude. It's a fact. Rely on your instincts, and 
they'll never guide you wrong. You are far from being a rookie who's
still dumb enough to make any mistakes that'll really matter. We'll get 
through this. And we've got good people here with us who know what
they're doing. Follow them like you've followed me at home."

Doubt marched thickly over Chet's features and he looked utterly lost.

Stanley double checked Kelly's suit fastenings and scba flow almost
tenderly, like a father. "I'm so with you, pal. You know I am. So let's
get what needs to be done taken care of, as it comes. Okay?"

Kelly, still pale and stiff, just nodded. But Cap saw that he was no 
longer so afraid.

Cap smiled.
"All right then. Go take your position by Chris. He's looking for ya.
Looks like our plane's about to land."

------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Photo:  Silver suited airport firefighters manning a rooftop foam
              turret.

Photo: An EMT firefighter donning a helmet and scba.

Photo:  Yellow airport fire trucks lining a runway at night.

Photo:  A whole tangle of emergency response crews and
             vehicles by a large building at night, lights flashing.

Photo:  An airport control tower's view out, at night.

Photo:  Airport workers evacuating off a tarmack in a golf cart. 

Photo:  A lime yellow fire and rescue truck moving fast along a runway. 

Photo:  Firefighters getting out of a truck, suited in silver. 

Photo:  A white helmeted Chief Joe Rorchek issuing orders over P.A.

Photo:  Turnout garbed Cap next to Chet, crouched and waiting, with a 
              radio.

Photo:   A helicopter flying by an airport control tower.

Photo:  MacAuthur Airport's red and silver Fire Rescue medical truck.

Photo:  Roy DeSoto squinting hard in a helmet in an icy rain.

**************************************************
Subject: The Reach for Earth...
From: 	patti k (pattik1@hotmail.com)
Sent: 	Tue 9/08/09 1:08 PM

Roy DeSoto, Johnny Gage stood quietly by Hallie Green and Ted 
Rorchek. There was very little left to say. Plans had been made as to 
how they'd maneuver backboards or scoop stretchers down the narrow 
airplane aisle. For the arrested man, they decided to just grab him and 
go if there were no signs of injuries in any of the other passengers.
Johnny asked the next question. "Is there a defibrillator on the plane?"

"No." said Ted. "We'll be lucky if they were able to even get their medical 
oxygen going. They probably didn't knowing there was an electrical fire
on board."

"He doesn't need it." Roy said simply. "He's not using up anything yet, 
only his brain is. Room air's plenty if they're working on him."

"That's if the air's still breathable. Even if that fire's out inside, toxins are 
building up. Plastics probably melted down in the wiring spaces from its
origin point." Gage said, being realistic.

"Hull titantium burns through in less than a minute if things get
hot enough. Expect toxic blackouts. A lot of them." Ted told them.
"But there's no chance of flashovers if there are holes in the fuselage."

"Yeah, but what about the air that'll be let back inside once those hatches 
blow open? That'll be first on the flight crew's mind. To get out."

Ted looked grim.
"Any sparks'll recatch. It'll be up to us to put out the new fire with our
hand hoses. So spray indiscriminately over people and everything.
Only then can we extricate the victims." Ted said, no nonsense. 
"Once a cabin starts to burn, it burns fast and can get to fatal levels of gas 
and heat in less than a minute. There'll be a team assigned to get the pilot out. 
Don't bother with him. He's locked in. I've staked down our triage tarp so it 
won't blow away in the backprop wash. Ready?" the younger Rorchek brother 
asked his three paramedic companions. 

"I got your back.." said Hallie. She looked collected in her yellow turnout.

"Yes."
  "Yes.." said Johnny and Roy at the same time as they spied the lengthening
plume of light coming from the wobbly inbound airplane and the steadier one 
from the military escort. 

"Okay.. I'll indicate which hatch to go into first once they open. It takes practice
to see how the wind'll wrap the smoke around the airplane. People won't go into
any if it's blowing into their faces so watch me close. Hallie, you're with Roy on
a reel line. I'll take Johnny here as my anchor." Then Ted looked down at his silver 
covered feet. "If none of those hatches move thirty seconds after halting stop, we'll 
pry ourselves in. For that will mean no one's been left in any condition to do so for 
themselves. Be careful of how you're pushing. They may pile up against the door."

Roy grimaced at the image. "Right." 

A klaxon began to sound from the control tower and a steady green flashing
signal began from a light gun from their observation deck located sixty feet up. 
It was aimed entirely at the distressed pilot. ::Clear to proceed.:: the signal said.

Then the Control Tower Supervisor's voice began to speak on flight frequency to
the business plane through the monitoring radio on Cap and Joe's truck hood.
##CN, do you copy?## hailed Gene Skidwell.

Blessedly, the pilot's voice suddenly broke through. His voice sounded
hoarse, and he was coughing. ## *cough* Tower, Cessna six five four one 
heavy out here in the rain. Feels good. ##

Gene Skidwell's relief was palpable. ##CN 6541, copy heavy. Regional tower 
one seven left. Cleared to land. Wind zero nine zero at five gusts to two zero.##

The business pilot came in staticky.. ##No before landing check. No time to-- *choke*#

Skidwell forced a focusing point. ##Landing gear?##

The pilot replied quickly. ##Down, three green.##

The military jet reaffirmed that report with a visual check out of his flightglass.
##Confirmed.##

Gene Skidwell acted as a remote first officer to the hard breathing pilot to calm
him with familiar protocol. ##Flaps stats?##

CN6541 answered. ##Thirty three, thirty three, green light.##
 
Gene grinned, satisfied as he spied the plane finally in his binoculars.
##You got good legs, don't ya?"

The pilot coughed again. ##I don't have a DME on mine.##

Skidwell confirmed the malfunction. ##You haven't had it for the last five 
minutes. Wash that off a little bit.## he joked.

The pilot chuckled but then he strangled. "Ah, this smoke.. it's gagging m--##

##Concentrate CN6541. ## Gene ordered. He readjusted the gain on his
emergency frequency to make sure his voice was being heard.

## Yes.. I am.. Uh,...a thousand feet. Seven sixty two in the baro.##

Gene radiated confidence. ##They're already called out for you.## he said
about the fire department and emergency services.

The pilot sighed. ##All right.##

##Watch your speed...## encouraged Skidwell. ##Touch down now..##

Tensely, the moments crawled by as the plane began to sink lower towards
the dark ground, leaving the military jet above as a cap and speed double check.

##  ..idle! ## shouted the pilot suddenly, feeling a sudden slip.

Gene stayed calm. 
##You're gonna lose it all of a sudden.##  the tower supervisor warned, about the foam.

##... there it is. *cough*.. ## came the pilot's weaker, stressed voice. ##Feels 
okay.. ## Then,... ##Ahhhh!*gasp*##

Horribly, the plane bounced up again and lurched, tipping toward the fire trucks,
its landing gear spewing ice, foam and steam as the pilot desperately tried to brake
on the surfactant.

Skidwell ate his microphone. ##Hang on to the son of a b*tch!##
## What's your vee ref? ##

There was a sharp snap then and the pilot's channel went absolutely dead.

"Not now!" shouted Gene.

All eyes in the tower shot toward the runway as the military pilot dipped lower and activated
his loud speaker over the still half and half airborne, bouncing airplane. ##Runway heading: 
059 magnetic, 045 true  239 magnetic, 225 true.... Obstruction:  38 ft. tree, ahead1340 ft. 
at end of runway. You are 350 ft. left of centerline, but on course. There's a 16:1 slope 
to clear. Really deploy your flaps to compensate. Relax your lift! You're already past 
the updraft from the powerplant! Good. Now.. Brake! Brake! Brake!##

Gene held his storm interference dead mic and issued the same order fervently 
as he heard the military pilot's takeover broadcast come through his fire department 
channel. "...Brake d*mn you. You're down..." he whispered as well, wishing and hoping.

------------------------------------------------

Photo:  Stricken airplane pilot in close up.

Photo: A pilot's hand on an airplane's throttle levers.

Animation: A plane lurching in a bounce off a runway.

Photo:  A closeup of moving landing gear on wet pavement.

Photo:  The glow of a complex control tower radar and mic panel.

Photo:  Gene Skidwell, air traffic controller in a closeup wearing a head mic.

Photo:  A military pilot looking down through his cockpit glass while in flight.

Photo:   An emergency airport fire truck projecting a straight stream of foam.

Photo:   Cap, Stoker, Chet and Marco looking worriedly into the sky in helmets.

Photo:  Ted Rorchek and Hallie Green in yellow helmets, looking up with fire
              extinguishers.

Photo:  Gage looking up into the sky, wet and scared.

**************************************************
Subject: Crack An Egg..
From: 	patti k (pattik1@hotmail.com)
Sent: 	Thu 9/10/09 1:34 PM

Gravity claimed its own at a desperate voluntary drop in velocity as CN6541
finally hugged the Earth and stayed there despite her high momentum.

## Let's go, people! ## shouted Chief Joe Rorchek to his fire crews monitoring 
the handy talkie operations channel as the brake roaring, tire rolling airplane 
flashed by their positions. ##We're following, but not too close. There's still 
the small chance of a flip! Avoid their backwash.##

Sirens peeling, the four light flashing rescue apparatuses lumbered onto both 
the runway's edges, rushing hurriedly for their still rough taxiing target. They
were assisted by two of Holbrook's and a pair of their ambulances.


Above, the military jet received orders from a superior at his base on the far
end of the tarmack. ##Alpha Nine, return to base. Clear the aerodrome.##

##Roger that..## replied the jet pilot who had escorted the corporate plane home.

Alpha Ten reported in. ## Ten to base. Radar's still clear over land but precip's 
getting too thick to probe out over oceanic coordinates as ordered.##

##That'll do. Break off your aid.  Control Tower says its handling. Land at will, 
Ten.##

##Roger base.## he replied, breaking off from his protective circling over the 
airport.


CN6541 screeched to an ungraceful halt fifteen yards from an impact barrier,
nose crooked,  like an ungangly swan. Silence enveloped her as all of her
engines were sent into emergency shut down in the night time darkness. Soft 
ice landed with a sploosh into the foam under her wings with small plops as 
left over friction heat quickly melted it.

Joe saw as they got closer, that the lights in the passenger cabin sputtered, and
then they went out. ::There's still fire somewhere on board.:: the chief thought in 
alarm. ##Lay a blanket foam over them with roof turrets! Full aperature.##

All four responded with straight streams that began to fountain out, sweeping
back and forth in turns over the smoke opaque windows and skin of the airplane. 

Gene Skidwell continued his hails to CN6541 on a new system. ## CN, this is TC. 
Do you read? Respond an equipment and passenger condition report. CN, do you 
copy?##

Cap, sitting next to Joe, hung onto the dashboard of the big foam truck Martelli
was driving as they pulled up into position. "The pilot's probably been overcome 
or he's abandoned his seat by now."

Martelli grinned. "Yeah, but he got her down. Now it's our turn to set things to rights."

Cap lifted his radio. ##Everybody double check your air status before moving in 
from upwind!## He stepped down from the cab of the brightly lit truck as a bouquet 
of spotlights from every available vehicle illuminated the steaming jet. Then he 
spotted something, a dark spreading stain under the tail that was tearing apart 
the older foam eroded from the sleet on top of the concrete. He raised the alert. 
##Fuel spill! Tailward! Cover the stuff ASAP before--##

A hatch behind a jet wing flew off the airplane as a gray emergency slide erupted 
from a rear exit hole. The sharp metal edge of the ejected door landed on the ground, 
with a bright spark.  It ignited the pool of fuel leaking from CN instantly into a roaring 
nimbus of fast spreading mushrooming fire. The inflatable slide popped from flames 
contact, like a grotesque balloon, and withered away with the smell of burning rubber 
and Jet-A. 

Joe, near Stanley, could see hastily flailing arms in the curtains of the airplane hatch. 
Rorchek thumbed a megaphone as he backed up to give the other trucks room to 
work fast around him. ##Stay inside! Do NOT jump! The slide's gone!## he broadcasted 
through his silver Hazmat suit.

Moments later, Cap and Joe saw the soot stained businessmen heed the warning and 
restrain themselves from acting. He saw an unmistakable wave of acknowledgement
from one of them, which was a good sign. They were still thinking clearly inside 
the plane.

Then Rorchek turned to his portable radio. "Any of the other hatches opening? That's 
the worst spot for an egress." he shouted, his face glowing in the hideous light from 
the ground fire. "It's downwind of the pavement smoke."

## No, Chief. ## came the replies from his and Cap's men. ##Only that one.##

"Okay, there must be a reason why they've come back here to escape, abandoning 
the other hatches. Call for a rolling walk and a motorized step up from the terminal !
Let's assume a front end fire."

##We're on it!## somebody replied. It was Holbrook, sweeping in with support 
foam.

##I also want portable scba for the passengers. Masks and bottles. One for
each when we're ready to evacuate them.## Joe added.

Slowly, inch by inch, the fire burning on top of the fuel on the pavement 
was pushed away from the airplane and smothered with a liberal coat of AFFF
until it was out. The flames were gone, but thick scorching black clouds continued
to rise due to lingering heat and they swirled thickly about the aircraft's tail end.

Cap was ansing to come up with a faster solution as he kept his back to Joe's,
monitoring their surroundings for other dangers. "Lifenet?"

"Too dangerous. We'll utilize one only as a last resort. We've got time. None 
of the passengers have worked themselves into a panic yet." Joe replied.
"That means, they either can't see the internal fire, or the smoke's venting
out adequately through that opening." Rorchek bit his lip. "Rescue Eight. 
See if you can locate the pilot visually through the nose glass. He may 
be the only victim we might be able to spot clearly at this point." he ordered, 
eyeing up the smoke darkened row of passenger windows running the length 
of the plane.  He saw a suited Marco Lopez and Rags Harris move forward in 
their red vehicle with one of them crouched on an aerial basket already extended 
over their hood.

Marco shouted urgently. ##He's in there. I'm seeing a white shirt. He's not moving.##

"Get him out. The tail fire back here's extinguished." Joe told his guest firefighter.

##10-4. Going in.##

Stanley chimed in, watchful and full of warning.
"Whatever you do. Do NOT open the flight cabin door. The other passengers
are keeping well away from the service area. There may be more fire there."

##Gotcha, Captain, sir.## said Harris. ##Smashing glass for a snatch.##

Rags deftly maneuvered the fire rescue truck to use the ram mounted at
the base of the foam turret to splinter the transparent canopy of the plane over 
the empty first officer's seat. The whole shell gave way in a tinkling sheet of 
shattered safety glass in seconds with just a soft touch.

The sudden cold wind and still building ice rain did not revive the unconscious 
pilot.

Marco reached carefully in from his basket as soon as he had covered the 
cockpit's sharp edges with a tarp. He groped for the pilot's skin with a glove 
and pushed, looking for refill. Another glance through his faceplate confirmed 
reactive pupils and slight breathing. ##He's alive.##

Johnny Gage responded over the frequency. ##We're standing by with oxygen 
in the ambulance approaching you. Marco, is he injured?## his voice was
muffled by a hazmat suit and scba mask.

##No, he's still belted in.## Lopez shared through layers of his own. 
##No bleeding.##

Rags radioed to Marco. ##The safety's easy to release, just press the big button
in the middle of the four X- straps. They'll all open at once. And the lap belt's
will be normal. Just like an automobile's.## he said from the truck's driver's seat.
Marco looked over and nodded, but he could barely see Rags silver gloves 
gripping the steering wheel.

##Found them.## Lopez grunted, straining to reach around the flight controls. 
##Hope the brakes are still on.## he said, pulling the shock sweaty limp pilot 
towards his chest to tie on a safety belt and line.

##We've chocked the wheels..## Stanley promised. ##Plane's going nowhere. ##

::Come on. Come on. :: thought Joe, glancing up the runway toward the distant
terminal. ::Where's that wheeled gangway?::

Inside the lead ambulance, silver suited Roy and Hallie worked fast to lay out
medical equipment for the pilot and the cardiac arrest victim. Johnny Gage
was still sitting in the driver's seat of the rig, looking frustrated in his bulky chrome
suit as he, too, searched for the airport workers driving the access gangway. He finally
spotted it moving slowly, but groaned loudly as he saw it stop about sixty yards away 
in the upwind safety zone, by a clump of fire trucks.

Hallie spoke up as if reading his mind. "They've got to trade off with suited up firemen.
Don't worry. It'll get here." she grinned, setting up an I.V. deftly despite her hazmat
turnout and gloves. "And then we'll get our first patients to evacuate to the medical
center on the tarmack."

Gage turned to look at her through the care taker's access door. "That place got 
enough staff on duty for a possible thirteen casualties?"

Hallie shrugged, looking small in the suit surrounding her red and yellow fire helmet.
"We've got a doctor on duty. We can get more in a heartbeat if we need them. And 
Steven Beck's there. That flight paramedic. Remember him from the station? He's 
the guy who rushed in to tell us about spotting our CN off course. Between him, you, me, 
Ted, Chris and Roy, us six ALS's and our one doc's probably enough to get everybody 
triaged and shipped out to the big city."

"That cardiac's gonna take at least two." Johnny said, still not happy.

"Any two firefighters can do CPR and ventilate. One of us can handle him alone then 
for his meds, shocks and intubation." Green deflected. "Tell you what.. I'll call in for 
a pair of pumps now." She lifted her radio. "Ambulance One at the nose to IC. We 
need a resuscitation team on standby to work the MI."

Joe Rorchek responded. ##I've assigned Chris to treat the pilot along with Rags
and Lopez. Sending in Chet and Stoker to your position.##

"Copy that." Hallie grunted. Then she pegged big blue eyes at Gage. "Feel better now
about us, Cally boy?" she said, mock gruff with all real firmness.

"Much." Gage grinned lopsidedly.

Roy just started laughing from where he was setting up an EKG monitor and leads.
"Gage, pacified by a lady. That's a first." he said, steaming up his silver head cover.

--------------------------------------------------------------

Photo:  Fire engines on a runway.

Photo:  Hazmat firefighter suiting up.

Photo:   Night shot of a plane with a tail slide deployed with silver 
              suited firefighters and hoses.

Photo:   A red rescue fire truck spraying foam on a runway fire.

Photo:   A jetliner on fire at an airport.

Animation: Firefighters in scba spraying foam out of hoses.

Photo:   Mike Stoker geared up in metal cutting equipment.

Photo:    Al Martelli looking tense at night in scba.

Photo:    Silver suited arff fighting a plane on fire.

Photo:    Cap issuing orders in scba to his men.

Photo:    Hallie Green and Ted Rorchek in red and yellow helmets.

Photo:    Chet Kelly and Marco Lopez in turnout with HTs.

Photo:    ARFF ambulances at the site of a evacuated aircraft at night.

***************************************************
Subject: Dante's...
From: 	patti k (pattik1@hotmail.com)
Sent: 	Thu 9/10/09 6:21 PM

## IC to Ambulance One. ## came another hail, breaking their amused
reverie.

"Go ahead." said Green to the chief.

## Passengers are avoiding the front. Vacate the area and rendevous
with the hatch crew and their victim a healthy distance away. I've got Ambulance
Two handling the pilot.## There was a long pause but soon Joe came back on 
the air again. ##Then you can ditch your suits, Hallie.##

Green made a face. "Did he--? Did he just read my mind? That's just....scary." 
she scoffed, surprised.

"10-4, IC. One out." replied Gage through his HT. He stepped on the accelerator 
and left the nose rescue operation for a point nearer the Halbrook support trucks. 
He passed by the gangway going the other way. Five silver suited ARFF
were operating the machinery. "Looks like they're going in. Wish we could
join them at that hatch."

"We'd only get in the way." replied Roy. "Chet and Stoker will keep him 
oxgenated and circulating while he and the other victims are moved over 
to us using that platform."  He reassured, still gripping the paddles of their 
already warmed up defib in his palms. 

Gage looked dubious. "I hate being triage."

DeSoto eyed him up. "I know. You're a dyed-in-the-wool rescue man. But
have a little patients." he joked, deliberating using the wrong word.

"Oh." Johnny, said, making sure the patient care cab was being heated
richly with a few checks of the driver's instrument panel. "I'm amused."

"Do you two always rib each other like--" She broke off suddenly.
Green was watching intently through the back loading doors of the
red ambulance, and her suit glinted in headlights as Ambulance Two 
hurriedly pulled up next to them. It was Chris and the others with the pilot.  
"Hey... Guys, they're set. But something's up."

Hallie flung open the doors to meet them. Roy shut them again for her 
thoughtfully as he and Johnny both joined her at the rear of Two. Harris inside, 
opened the new rig's doors quickly. "We need another suction flange kit. 
Ours clogged." Rags told them.

"I'll get it.." said Hallie, rushing to hand them several from the first 
ambulance's supplies.

"How's he doing otherwise?" DeSoto asked, looking in at Chris, where
the paramedic firefighter was still fussing with the pilot's in-place oral airway
with a manual bulb.

"Just smoke inhalation." the oldest Rorchek son replied. "His O2 sats are 
basementing so we're helping him." he said, tipping a head at where Rags 
had resumed waiting with a rich oxygen flowing ambu bag. "His EKG's SVT 
but stable."

"Good." Johnny said. "I'll radio the doc's area and let them know you're
coming first."

Hallie returned swiftly with the white plastic wrapped kit.  

"Appreciate it." said Chris.  He blinked eagerly as soon as he took the
badly needed tubes set from Green. "Ooo."

He bit it open and gave a new tube a bigger size to Marco. Soon Lopez
had things in order and was working."I'm getting air in fine now." Rags said 
after his fast vaccumming. He smiled as he watched Lopez abandon him 
quickly heading back for the steering wheel. "Nice work, fireman." he 
complimented.

"No problem. I hate the sound of half choking." Marco replied.

Chris sighed in relief. "Boy I'm glad we stopped. Your stealing from a second rig 
as a solution was definitely faster, Marco." Then he changed the subject. "Where'd 
Ted get to?" he wondered, asking One's crew about his little brother as he 
double checked the pilot's clear airway.

Johnny spoke up. "He's back with the break-in crews, waiting to treat the worst.
We saw him after we were ordered out of the danger zone.." he groused.

Chris raised his eyebrows and sighed deeply. "Man, I don't know how Dad keeps
track of us all." he said, jiggling his spare accountability tag on his suit as he
studied his patient's arrythmia bleeping monitor. 

"He's been doing head counts since long before you were even born." Green 
quipped as she and Johnny leaned on the step up bumper from outside. Ice
rained freely down their suits. "I'm sure you and Ted were hardly a whereabouts 
challenge for him even growing up as hyperactive little kids." she added.

The bleeping died away.

"Okay.. V-tach's settling down. Crisis over.."
Chris shot her an I'm-stabbed-clear-through but light look and then he quickly 
closed the doors tightly to keep out the growing cold.

"Marco.. Take off!" Roy said, slapping the rescue truck on the back doors.

They watched as Ambulance Two bore the pilot down the runway, escorted
by an airport security squad. They headed for the medical center that was waiting 
with their entry doors already wide open. The welcomely lit entrance, framed by 
support staff watching amid a row of thickly blanketed gurneys, was clearly visible
through a break in the heavily sleeting rain. 

DeSoto allowed himself a sense of great relief. 

But then business took over. 

## This is IC to all units. CN6541 is fully evacuated. Move in for tear down
and secondary suppression. Alert the medical center that the passengers are 
on their way in less than five.## Joe's voice reported on air.

"I got that." volunteered Gage over the airwaves. Then he radioed that information
ahead on the EMERG channel after switching off main. 

Minutes went by with little change at the scene that they could see, but then
the gangway carefully arrived to Ambulance One with the jet's entire cluster of 
coughing, emotionally distressed business people and its two hostesses. 
They all had shed their outer jackets back on the plane and every one of them 
was shivering violently from the elements. Fire tarps were no help keeping
them warm.

A pair of firefighters had the cardiac arrested man loaded into a plastic stokes 
on the operator's platform and Kelly and Stoker were already hard at work over 
him with aggressive CPR and carefully smooth bag valve ventilations. 

Ted was still cutting off the man's clothes and baring his chest. Another 
firefighter was drying the ice and rain from his skin rapidly with an absorbent 
pad under the protection of a tarp draped over the palustrades of the 
gangway. "Get the defibrillator up here on the double!" he yelled. "He's 
posturing."

On the ground, Roy startled. "Hypoxia?" ::Something must have gone wrong 
with the civilian efforts to support him.:: DeSoto thought. "I'll go." he told the
others.  He sprinted up the metal steps with the unit and an oxygen bottle. 
"Johnny, I'll give him the first shock and then we're down there, conversion 
or no. Ted says he's severely acidotic!" he shouted down to them.

"Okay! We'll be ready!" Gage replied.

He heard Roy shouting another hurried question as he climbed up the
stairs rapidly."What about the others?" Gage heard Roy ask Ted.

The youngest Rorchek answered easily.
"No burns. They can wait for transport to take them in." Ted lifted up
his HT. "Hatch crew to IC. We're well clear. Where's that bus? I've got
a lot of cold people up here." he radioed as he watched Roy quickly
framed the paddles to deliver a countershock to the blue skinned
businessman in response to the fine V-Fib that he had read off of them.

##It's on its way in less than one.## replied the chief.

Roy waited as muscles relaxed following his given shock. Then he
gathered telemetry data. "No change.." DeSoto reported, paddle reading 
the man's chest once more. "He's no go. Let's pick him up. Chet, skip 
hooking up the O2 for now. Grab it along."

"Right.." he said as he and Stoker finished one last set of compressions
and breaths.

"Okay, one, two, three. Lift.. Now, run!" DeSoto ordered urgently.

Gage and Hallie got onto their rig again and began to set up suction and their
intubation equipment along with some cardiac medications. "Just standing 
orders?"Johnny nodded at Hallie concerning the resuscitation to come.

"Yeah. No need to call the doc except for an initial patient status." Green
replied. "Age, gender, time since arrest, current findings.." she clarified.
"Anything else can wait until we get there. Our job is just to turn him around.
And fly."

"Like a bird." Johnny promised.  

He looked up as Chet, Stoker, and another pair of ARFFs rushed the stokes 
over to them still bearing the arrested man. Gage saw that Roy had set the 
defib on automatic recharge and it neatly reached full power by the time the 
man was fully loaded into the ambulance. 

"I've got this!" Hallie shouted. "Let go of him. I'm going again." she ordered, 
picking up the rewarmed up paddles for another delivery. "Clear?" Hallie
asked everyone. Heads bobbed. Then the pixie faced firefighter paramedic  
let loose the second attempt at 400 watts.

The man jerked. Seconds later, though, he remained clinically dead. "D*mn.." 
Green swore as Kelly and Stoker swiftly reassumed their places and
restarted urgently active CPR at her nod. She quickly began to prepare an
endotrachael tube for an epinephrine boost. 

At the same time, Johnny stooped low to begin finding a viable vein for bicarb. 

Gage had just enough time to catch his partner's wave that he was remaining 
with Ted to start to assess the other passengers, when an ARFF secured the
doors shut between them with a firm snick. Johnny felt the ambulance start to
move as another ARFF stepped in as their driver to begin the long trip around
the crash scene, heading for the medical center.

::Man, I'm glad that's over. :: Johnny sighed mentally as they were driven past
the still flameless aircraft. Five lime colored engines were aiming foam onto
the jet's outer shell in a ring of ghosty white flower petals while more ARFF crew 
split open the top and ends to enter the interior. He saw that they had gotten in 
by side ladders to string along charged reel lines. They were searching for
the well reported hidden fire that had as yet, to be discovered ::I really didn't 
enjoy all that fuel suddenly bursting into flames right in front of me.:: Gage 
grumbled in his head.

-----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

In the control tower, Gene Skidwell sighed as the minutes crawled by
without any restarting hint of flames reappearing on runway 24. His Zetron
panel still read a passenger count of 13. He looked up at his companion
controller Mike Porter, with a smirk. "No one's been declared dead yet.
That's a good sign. Isn't it?"

Mike was tense, still gripping his pencil as he watched the rescue operation
through closely focused binoculars. "I.. I.. wouldn't know, Boss. To me,
dying of a heart attack on a airplane can't be a good outcome. Especially not
after having that same said airplane suddenly bursting into flames. Man, that
was awful.. Never in my life have I se---" he broke off when he spotted a
familiar looking white light, but in the wrong place on the horizon. "Gene? 
Do you see what I see? One o'clock low and it's over water."

Gene grabbed up his own night vision pair and moved to that place in their view.
He blanched.. "Oh, sh*t... What are they doing here? Tracon called off all our 
flights. Didn't they hear us?"

Mike Porter knocked over his coffee mug gone cold as he hastily grabbed the
flight channel's out going microphone. "TC to unscheduled flight inbound. I repeat.
Turn away. Do not approach. We've a plane down. Respond please."

Meanwhile, Gene was scrambling with the radar settings. "It's an international.
From Paris.. See?" and he pointed to the blip on their mutual screen. "Still heading
right for us."

Then a voice blistered through static over their ceiling speakers. "##...ermission to land.
Permission to...##

Skidwell read their ident swiftly on the transponder screen. "Concorde 35, what is your
emergency?" he asked numbly, even as Porter quickly jumped onto the hot phone to
call Theresa Ryder. 

##...flaps...frozen. Stuck in nine degree declination. Pitching west by southwest..##

Gene's hand slapped down on the Zetron panel, red alert, to everyone wired onto
the system as the concerned pilot continued to report in new information.

Mike was still talking to Theresa in her office when he blanched and dropped the
phone, pointing out the window. The graceful aircraft was severely tail heavy and 
headed right for a thousand foot radio antennae at the edge of the airport's infield.

Gene Skidwell snatched up the mic. "To port! Twenty five degrees turn.. Immediate!"

## COLLISION COURSE!  *beep beep* COLLISION COURSE! ## came the 
automated warning from the Concorde over their open channel.

The French pilot turned hysterical. "I can't turn! Look I've been trying to tell you that for 
the last---" 

A bright purple and orange spark fireworked into the wintery night sky as Concorde's wing
clipped a radio tower wire, which sliced off its portside wing.... utterly. 

Then the thickly ice-locked airliner nosed straight into the ground at high impact and Gene 
closed his eyes. When he opened them again, a huge slow growing fireball was rising
higher than the trees.. And then higher than even them. And he registered something twisted, 
huge and gray, tumbling directly towards them at two hundred ninety miles an hour. 

Both men ducked under their consoles and began to scream as death flashed nearer.

It was Concorde's front half, mangled beyond recognition, skidding on ground ice, 
directly for the vulnerable Control Tower ...and the terminal. It smashed into three
concourse ramps, shoving a fueling passenger plane nose first into the building. Another
plane on resupply standby, was smashed through the end of the main terminal,
leaving behind a massive explosion and inferno which burst clear through the roof. 

Concorde ended her long journey with her tail, by twisting into the base of the 
control tower, sheering off its power supply that had been connecting it to the rest 
of the airport.

Still falling debris from the rest of aircraft tore through the tower's thin dome top
and slender sides, touching off fire and structural collapse as fireball after fireball
around it shot into the night sky with lurid violence.

Within, Mike and Gene were shaken physically, but unharmed. 

But then the weakened ceiling came down and they knew no more.

-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

On runway 24, Joe Rorchek wasn't the only one to spot the initial coming impact. It could
hardly be missed as retinal after images burned through his head. He ducked behind
a firetruck and grabbed for his radio. ##Take cover! Aircraft falling!##

The very ground shook during the crash and ARFF personnel were jolted off their feet 
as they watched a second horror at the airport unfold like a sick fever dream from 
wherever they were. 

When the Control Tower winked black and began turning orange with fire, Joe
rose to his trembling feet. "Holy mother of--"  Then his mind took over his numb body
and he began to issue orders.. ##All units. Red alert. Undeclared Disaster at..." His watering
eyes took in the damage. ".. Main Terminal, Control Tower, and Runway 15R outbuildings! 
Regroup! Regroup! All available non-medical units, report to Incident Command 
immediately!##
 
Ambulance One had simply halted in its tracks. Then the radio message came over
their HTs on private band. ##IC to One. Abandon your victim. I repeat abandon. Tag
black and report to IC with all personnel.##

Stunned, but knowing the necessity, Chet, Stoker, Johnny and Hallie all stopped
work and only opened their ambulance when everyone had fully resuited with
fresh air bottles.

They left the business man at the edge of the runway under a tarp, a black tag
staked deep into the freezing ground by his covered head. There it fluttered in the wind
as the ambulance quickly pulled away with its lights flashing as he was left alone
in the dark under the horrific glow of blossoming firelight.


Nobody noticed that the sleet had turned into the lightest of snows, drifting down, almost
peacefully, to cover the landscape. As it did, the outline of bodies began to appear in
the snow.
 
--------------------------------------------------------

Photo:  Airport firefighters boarding an aircraft.

Photo:  Rescuers carrying a victim in a plastic stokes down flight gangway stairs.

Photo:  Air controller spotting a light on the horizon.

Photo:  Chief Rorchek radioing for all available in closeup.

Photo:  Airplane into a building at night, ARFF fighting fires.

Photo:  Airplane into a terminal and damage to control tower.

Photo:    Reflection of bodies in the shine of an aircraft's skin.

Photo:    Johnny Gage at night, looking horrified with dread.

***************************************************
Subject: Pick Up Sticks..
From: 	patti k (pattik1@hotmail.com)
Sent: 	Fri 9/11/09 2:31 AM

"Chief?" asked Gage, leaping out of Ambulance One. He
was rubbernecking the horror behind them, but also watching
for walking wounded coming in from the darkness. "Seen
any victims yet?"

"No."
Joe quickly asked Johnny his first question. "Did you come
back of your own volition or did you come back because I
ordered you back?" he pegged, almost severely.

Hallie replied, understanding immediately. "We heard you,
Chief." she said with confidence.

"Good. That means OUR repeater tower's not the one that the
plane hit. We still have local communications... EVERYBODY!"
he shouted into his megaphone.. "Everybody listen! This is
what we're gonna do. Fall in a line and start eyeballing our current 
and any potentially developing dangerous situations. Find me a 
way in to those people that's safe, fast, and with good access to 
the outside infrastructure so mutual aid can get in to mobilize.
And so there's equal space for our ambulances to get out. I want 
answers in ten minutes. Do not.. I repeat.. do NOT leave this area 
until I've approved our tactical attack. Is that understood?"

Holbrook's three companies of hazmat suited firemen, about thirty
in all, agreed and nodded, hurrying to form a line of spotters
along their made safe runway facing the burning terminal, and 
control tower locations.

Joe kept speaking to them as all the ARFF fought down varying
degrees of reaction, positive and negative, to the disaster.

"Now CN6541's a lost cause. We're gonna let her burn. There's 
very little risk in leaving the aircraft alone unsupervised while she 
decomposes, for she's sitting on concrete in a secured area.
We'll meet to discuss all our options at 21: 22 hours. Right here."
he pointed to the snow whitening ground before his truck.
"And may the elements favor us in our work tonight." he shouted
as the wind inside the snowstorm shrieked briefly in a gust.

Murmurs of determination and a few cries of anxiety punctuated
his words, but Joe took them all in and chalked it off as
shock effect and autopilot instincts. He knew that he had
good men under him. And good neighbors. Now all he
needed was a lot of good luck to get through the night
and the coming ugly, cold day.

He waved over Al Martelli. "Get on the horn. Call in everybody
who wants to come in an assist. I don't care if you have
to rouse each municipality mayor and shake him out of
bed. I want a firefighter for every three casualties by
dawn, or there'll be H*ll to pay."

"Aye, chief.." and Martelli headed off to the fire station's
communications room with a rear safety with him in a
spare runway jeep.

Joe looked over to Ambulance One's four members.
Chet looked quiet, Hallie stricken, Stoker appeared ready for
anything, but Johnny Gage was impatient. He wanted the most
out of anyone to get into action. So Rorchek humored them.
"You guys head over to the medical center and see what you 
can do. I know if that building has just minor damage that Chris'll set 
up triage and a shelter there. All the medical supplies are right
next door in a locked blue hanger along with the ALS
choppers." Joe said.  "Grab what you need. Here's the key."
he said, passing one over from his belt ring. "Use especially
the triage kits for sharing information."

"We're gone." Gage said, gripping his team's arms in
support and encouragement through his silver gloves as he
quickly pulled them after him towards their ambulance.

Stoker paused before following. "Uh, all right if I
move a pumper over there as a standby? That's gonna
be a real critical area before too long."

"Get it done." Joe replied. "Stay and man it?"

"My pleasure." Mike answered grimly.

"Grab a partner." Joe told him.

"Right away.." Stoker nodded. He was met with a great
show of raised hands. He picked one at random. It was
the captain from Hollbrook who finally joined him.

Joe watched them drive off carefully for the medical center.

Captain Stanley rubbed snow off of his faceplate, thinking.
"What's the range of our hand radioes?"

"Only three hundred yards.." Joe replied in stunned numbness
at the full impact of what had just happened. It was only 
now, just beginning to hit him.
 
"Easy, Joe." Hank said, reaching out to him. "Split up?" Hank 
asked, keeping things short and clear.

Joe blinked away hesitation.
"Yes. You take half the companies and set up on the tarmack
in between the medical center and the terminal. There's a lot
of hazards any closer so don't chance it." the silver haired Rorchek
replied. 

Cap nodded, grabbing another slate board from their command
truck and an extra set of HT batteries for the search and rescue pack
somebody handed to him. "I'll be sure everyone stays in their suits."

"You do that. There were two full sized airliners over there by
the control tower and now they're gone. Bound to be magnesium fires 
all over the place on top of the aviation fuel dangers." Joe told him.
"And those were both composite constructed jumbo jets." the
chief reported.

"I'll duct tape test the ground before I set up to find out how large the 
hazardous area is. If there are any fibers on the tape when I pick it up, 
I'll know I've got a problem and I promise I'll keep everybody moving 
outwards until I don't." Stanley capitulated.

"You know your aircraft." Joe nodded grimly.

"Only the ones I fly in. Scenarios always go through my head whenever 
I find my self strapped to a flimsy seat in one. What about the Concorde?"
Hank asked, glancing into the void that was somehow blacker than black
where the ground was deeply carbonized. He noticed that fire had gone out 
except for the bits on top of any fuel based organic material. ::People:: 
Cap grimaced. ::Everything else has vaporized or has already been 
smothered by the weather.::

"She's done. There's no hope of survivors. Anything moving that fast
in a crash wouldn't favor survival in the least." Joe told him. "So we're
going to concentrate on our buildings in this order: The control tower;
we need to prevent our airspace from being used again, somehow,
by those still unaware of our crises. The density of air traffic in our skies 
usually is phenomenal this time of night. Number Two- The terminal; we're 
slow and low in crowd numbers but not that low. I expect that structure still
has anywhere from two to three hundred people inside right now."

The others groaned in dismay and fidgetted inside of their hazmat suits.

Joe held up a glove. "Now luck is in our favor a little bit. The two end 
concourses involved were under construction today so I don't expect many 
casualties in those areas. Top priority is securing our safety first, shutting off 
our utilities second, and doing the most good for the greatest number third. The 
planes that were grounded over there weren't occupied by the public. They 
weren't scheduled to fly out until morning. At most, there were minimal support 
staff resupplying both aircraft and providing maintenance." Rorchek decided.

"How many potentially were inside them?"  Hank asked, planning.

"Maybe four each. A cleaner, someone to restock the commissary,
someone to upholster and organize the seat bins, and the last
would be flushing the sanitary waste tanks." Joe replied.

"How many down below?"  

"One. The refueler. He'd be grounding the aircraft with a wire before
standing by any fuel pump..." Joe bit his lip.. "That's if... any fuel pump
survived all of that.." he fingered over his shoulder. "And if you add 
roving security and general stockers and luggage handlers, there could 
be up to ten people out on the tarmack per plane, if they were even
out there in this storm, in those hot spots." 

"We'll find everybody we can save, Joe. You have my word on that."
Hank told him. "As one firefighter, to another."

---------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

In the medical center, Dr. Joanne Almstedt made sure all their outer
doors were shut and barricaded against the outside smoke. "We'll
use the underground entrance ramp doors for any and all patients."
she said to the main lobby at large. She was still shivering inside of
her dark navy parka emblazoned with a red cross. "Steve?" she 
called out turning towards the chopper paramedic treating one of 
CN's businessmen. He had a cut over his eye and was complaining 
of head pain. 

"Yep?"

"Could you break away for a second and mark that tunnel with light 
flashing flatbeds inside so fire rescue can find their new way in okay?" 
she asked.

"Sure.." he said. "This one's stable. No dizziness." he told her, passing
off the man's green triage tag.  

She smiled and indicated a chair to the man in the corner away from the 
outer windows. "The bus will be right back to take all of you to the hospital." 
she said to him, and his still dazed colleagues. "You'll all be fine."
 
"We want to stay and help out." said one determined executive. He looked
strange in his torn and smoke gritty silk suit, with his hair full of caked fire
foam.

Joanne touched his sleeve.
"I'm afraid it's not safe enough for you to stay. But if you leave your
information with my nurse here about who you are and what's bothering
you medically, that'd be wonderful." she beamed, being quietly polite.

The men immediately moved to the reception desk.

Chris was taping up all the cracks in the glass of the windows
in the lobby and the margins along the top, sides and bottoms of doors.
"We've just got to keep all that crap from coming in. We're getting a toxic
atmosphere out there whenever the wind blows this way."

Joanne eyed him up thoughtfully as she moved to a sink to wash
her hands up for her next pair of medical gloves. "Well, I don't 
know, Chris.. You're the expert. What do you suggest? We can't just
lea--"

"I know that. This is absolutely the best place for what's going on.
I'll think of something." said the eldest Rorchek son.

A voice answered from behind him. "How about mylar? It's impermeable
to most gases. And we've rolls of it in the medical supply hanger."
It was Flight Paramedic Steven Beck, returned from his entrance
marking mission. 

Chris beamed. "Perfect.. Then anybody conscious we bring in here to treat,
can't see out and get any worse."

"Chris, are you trying to be funny?" Joanne asked seriously.

"No, doctor. I- I'm being practical. I know what large scale incidents 
like this do to people. I worked Three Mile Island, remember?" he replied.
 
Steven Beck nodded yes. 

Joanne's tight expression softened then, in sympathy. "I had no idea."

"Yes, well, uh,...that's over. What's next?" Chris asked. "I've already called 
my d--  uh, the chief ..and he wants me to be the Supply Officer.  Can you take 
over as Triage Head?" he asked her.

"I will. Steve, wanna help out and direct the other paramedics when they start
coming in with patients?"

"You don't have to ask, I was just about to suggest that." Beck said, pursing his
lips in stress. "Nobody knows this building and its contents better than I."

Joanne paused for a beat. Then she nodded her head. "Yeah, that's true. You 
DO know better than me." she agreed. Dr. Almstedt clapped her hands together. 
"Okay, let's get to work, people. We've got a lot to do to get this lobby and adjoining 
waiting room prepared. I'll make out a list of what I want and where. First priority is 
hanging that d*mn*d mylar."

Chris suddenly looked pale. "Oh, crap.." he muttered. 

Steve and Joanne, noticed.
"What?" they both asked at the same time. 

"I.....just remembered what building's at our backs." he minced worriedly.

Joanne recalled suddenly, her eyes getting big. "Ohhhh,.. don't tell me.."

"Yes, the fuel depot." Rorchek replied. "I think I'd better go check 
that hanger out for trouble spots."

"Bring a radio with you. I'll be monitoring.." Steve sighed, tossing him
a spare that he had scrounged up.

Joanne thought of something else. "What about our power? Will the fire 
department be turning off our utilities for safe keeping?"

"No, the med center's a critical area. If it's found safe enough, we'll 
be the last place allowed to go black." Rorchek shared.

"That's good." replied the doc. "It's really hard to do surgery by flashlight." 
she muttered.

---------------------------------------------------------------------------------


Outside, Captain Stanley got his assignment and his plan
of action approved by the chief. It had changed from the
original. He was now heading a search and rescue party.
He had gathered together ten other firemen under his wing, 
all crammed into one of Code Red's Oshkosh crash trucks.
Now they were rolling into the red zone for a little reconnaissance.

As he eyed the damage, he began to feel vulnerable. ::Just what
have we gotten ourselves into here? How do we even begin?::
he thought, seeing almost complete destruction surrounding him.
Only the shell of the powerless control tower remained intact outside
the main building. 

Then Hank saw many, many people. Far more than what
had been estimated by the chief, through the cracked or missing
glass of the main terminal. Only a few were still moving, feebly.
Everyone was covered in blood. And no one, ..was standing. 

::Oh my G*d.:: Hank thought to himself. ::We have to get in there.::


--------------------------------------------------------------------------------- 

Photo:  A plane dumping retardant on an airport fire.

Photo:  Flames pouring out of airplane windows.

Photo:  A burning block, full of airliner debris.

Photo:  A landing gear shorn off on the ground.

Photo:  Captain Stanley in a helmet, looking tortured.

Photo:   Burning debris and fallen bodies in a field.

Photo:  Dr. Joanne Almstedt in a field parka, outside.

Photo:  Steven Beck, flight paramedic, standing by an ambulance.

Photo:  A lime colored Oshkosh crash truck spraying foam around 
             fallen bodies on an airport tarmack. 
 
***************************************************
Subject: Ad Hoc..
From: 	patti k (pattik1@hotmail.com)
Sent: 	Sat 9/12/09 10:45 AM

The door from the underground garage ramp connecting
to the medical center's lobby, opened.

Inside rushed Roy DeSoto and Ted Rorchek, in full scba gear. 
Together, they had been checking the exterior of the medical 
center building for signs of any damage.

There had been none past the cracked glass due to concussions
from the initial explosions that they could find.

"Integrity's intact. No fires." DeSoto reported. Then he noticed the 
bright orange vest labelled Triage Head that Joanne was slipping on 
from a triage kit. "How many of us paramedics do you want to stay back 
here to help you?"

"None." Almstedt said, still organizing medical center staffers to tape
and seal off windows. "You fellas'll be a lot more effective being part
of the search and rescue crews. I'll have help from Stony Brook
Hospital's ER Department flooding in before you know it. They've already
left to come here in full regalia along with a fleet of ambulances from
the surrounding communities."

"Fair enough." said Ted Rorchek. "I've fitted the bus driver with an air
bottle and he found himself a fire proof maintenance jacket. I've sent him to
shuttle all the personnel he can find out there outside of the danger zone
to bring to the evacuation center here. He's got a ham radio on board and 
can talk to all of his coworkers who have short waves."

"It's a smart plan." Roy said, watching Rags Harris and Marco Lopez begin an 
interior safety sweep of the medical center. "I'm sure the airport
manager will want to know pretty quick who's safe and who's not with her 
employees working out there in the air field."

Marco waved a hand at DeSoto. "We'll be back in ten minutes, I wanna check
their fire panel, and the boiler room."

Rags added another idea. "We're going to look at those office spaces 
along the outer walls for injuries."

Joanne raised her hand. "Uh, there aren't any, boys." she said. "We used the
intercom system and got everybody to report in here for a head count. I also had
everybody who had window damage shut their doors."

"Oh, fine then." Harris said. "We'll be right back, Roy." he said as Marco flanked
him with a dangling air mask on standby. "Our radios are tuned to your med 
channel, ma'am. Hail us if you need us."

Johnny Gage and Hallie Green arrived with Chet, but empty handed.

Roy looked up. "Where's our heart attack victim?"

Kelly just shook his head minimally. "We were ordered into strict triage mode."

Dr. Almstedt's eyes flashed. "Yeah, well not in here. We're going to be working
ALL non breathers who come in, seeing as we're not on the front lines of
this operation. We've plenty of help."

A sharp blast of a fire apparatus air horn from outside grabbed their attention.
It was Mike Stoker along with his fire captain placing themselves into position
as a safety between the red zone and the medical center. The Holbrook captain
thumbed a radio mike. ##What's the status in there structurally?##

"We're pretty sure it's safe, cap." Roy replied using his talkie. "Just making sure."

##Fair enough. We'll start cooling down this concrete at the fire's edge to give
you guys a larger buffer. Staying on live speaker. Okay, let's go, Mike.## he said 
to Stoker, who was driving the Oshkosh expertly. ##Use water on the turret. We'll 
save our foam for rescuing situations only. We've got a big tank but not as large 
as what we're probably going to need before the other trucks get here to take over.##

##Yes, sir. Priming roof turret on auto, half aperature on straight spray.## Mike confirmed.
##I think that wind's picking up.##

Johnny Gage had noticed that chatter. "A snowstorm?"

"Yeah." said Hallie. "And it's shaping up to be a real bad one." she said. Then she 
looked up as an airport maintenance crew using a forklift suddenly appeared with a 
slew of spare fire department air bottles, stokes, and other sophisticated
force entry tools into the garage ramp that they could see through the windows. 
"Ah, chief.. I think I love you." she grinned. "Come on, let's go." 
she said to the others, heading for that pallet of gear.

Rags and Lopez joined her after giving a thumbs up about the boiler room and fire
alarm system to Beck. Roy, Johnny, Hallie, Ted, Chris and Chet linked up to head 
towards the above ground pedestrian tunnel which led to the blacked out main terminal. 
Gage lifted his radio, hailing Stanley. "Cap? We're set. The med center's a green. 
We're heading into the effected main building to start our search, left to right pattern, 
each room." he said, flicking on a high intensity torch light.

##Ten-Four, Team Two. Head to the east end wing to start. We're seeing a lot of 
victims through the windows. ## Hank replied. ## I'm taking Team One to the vicinity 
immediately outside to begin searching those parked planes that were hit.##

"What about the control tower?" Johnny asked. "We know there were at least two
people up there."

Stanley was way ahead of him.
##The chief's got three trucks headed that way for a ground attack to secure 
the area around that base. Once they're done, I want two of you to go in and conduct
a thorough search. The airport manager said that only those two men were up there since 
everything was shut down air traffic business wise for the tower for the duration of Runway 
24's incident. I'm sending in four men with me to join up with the rest of you, working from
the other end of the terminal. More search crews from Holbrook are on their way.##

"10-4, Cap. We'll keep you updated." Johnny replied, intensely focused and already
sweating.  Quickly, the eight firefighters organized into pairs, laden with all the equipment
they could carry with them.

-------------------------------------------------------

Photo: Dr. Joanne Almstedt and Flight Paramedic Steven Beck
            in medical coats, listening. 

Photo:  Ted and Hallie in helmets, by an engine.

Photo:  A triage tag in close up.

Photo:   An airport medical center, setting up into triage mode.

Photo:   An airport crashed against a damaged building with ARFF 
              apparatus and firemen working around it.

Photo: Roy and Johnny on the radio, wearing scba, listening.

Animation:   A burning fire just outside an access door to a building.

Photo:   An ARFF firemen checking a power box in a boiler room.

Photo:   Mike Stoker in turnout, driving an airport fire truck.

**************************************************
Subject: Breaker 1-9, Got Your Ears On??
From: 	patti k (pattik1@hotmail.com)
Sent: 	Thu 10/01/09 10:34 PM

Rags and Marco reported in to the others.

"Everything's okay in the utility room." Harris said as Marco
repeated the information on the main incident channel. "And
we found these." he said, brandishing plastic coated location 
maps.

"Groovy!" said Chet, grabbing a few rolls. "I'll just bet one of
these will show us the way into the control tower. It's bound
to be a subterranean tunnel.."

"Yep. There is one. But it's right underneath all that fire. It may
not be passable." Ted Rorchek shared, checking his air regulator's
remaining supply.

"It's worth a shot to try that first." said Roy through his face plate. 
"Above ground's too hot to support life right now."

Lopez spoke clearly. "Med Center to IC. We're clear with full
power. All systems: water, gas and electrical are showing nominal."
He caught Chris Rorchek's thumbs up about the results of his scouting
run. "And the small aircraft fuel repository hanger is not a risk."

##10-4, Med Center. That's one big load off my mind. How's the doc's 
shaping up?## replied Joe.

"She's well supported. Relief staff's already been notified to report in
from area hospitals." Lopez shared.

##Good to hear. Shift all future communications to Stanley. He's at
a new site between the terminal and your triage and he'll be running your
operations.  Secondary ARFF teams have been called and will be
deployed to your location to assist ASAP.##

"We copy new IC2." said Marco, spotting a familiar ring of support and attack 
trucks forming outside of the debris field around Cap's lime colored engine.
"10-4." he said, as he and the others hurried in their scba and airbottles, 
carrying their silver hazmat suits with them, draped over their arms.

Chris Rorchek added more information. "Chief, everyone's activated their 
P.A.S.S. and GPS beacons. You should have no trouble tracking our 
movements in here, or the lack of them, if we find ourselves in a rough spot."

##Noted.##

---------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

In the Airport Fire Station, Engineer Al Martelli was manning a short wave radio
panel that patched in both the FD's handy talkies and all airport personnel's ham 
radios into one console. He had three speakers on live feed as he held the 
hot phone receiver to one of his ears. "Yeah, we're practically dead in the water
even with four companies' men. I'm seeing four planes, and most of a main 
building fully involved on my camera, including our control tower. So gimme 
all you got and spread the word!" he said to a local police station. "Patchogue? 
Yeah. Bring em in. What part of an alert 3.. times four, don't ya understand?! 
I don't care how ya do it, just get everybody here!" and then he slammed down 
the crisis phone with a bang.

Al's backup ARFF firefighter was from Holbrook. And he was a short distance
away, prowling, inside of his scba, making sure the integrity of the communications 
room was still solid. "We've no jarred window frames and all fuses are still on."

Martelli blinked cold sweat out of his eyes. "I kind of figured that. I don't
hear no alarms going off from the furnace room." Finally, he yanked off his fire
helmet and set it onto the paper strewn counter in front of him. "Sophie would
be barking if that were happening."

"Is she a search dog?"  The Holbrook fireman wanted to know.

"Sayyyy. That's a good idea..." said Al, suddenly getting up and opening an 
outer side door. "Go on, girl. Go to the chief.." he ordered. "Go work off
that supper."

The lanky Dalmatian eagerly ran out onto the snowy runway outside
the station, making a beeline straight and unwavering for the first fire truck
cluster by runway 24A.

Martelli sighed as he resealed the door and made sure the smoke couldn't
get in. "Well, that takes care of her."

"But not us, I'm afraid." the dark haired Italian firefighter said.

"What do ya mean?" Martelli asked, taking his center seat again to
monitor the phones. 

His helper shrugged minutely.
"Your chief was wrong. One's not enough for doing everything at this end.
Do you need a hammie to help out? I'm pretty good."

"Are you a --?" Martelli asked.

"Yeah I'm an Elmer. I even got a tower network set up at home." he said.

Martelli whistled appreciatively. "Wish we had that kind of budget."

But the other fireman wasn't listening.
"Hmmm, we have to fix this rig of your station's or we're going to stay 
elephant and people are going to start to die." 

"Elephant?" mumbled Al.

"Yeah, looks like we can hear a lot farther than we can transmit." Then he 
tore off a damp fire glove and offered his hand to the resident curly haired 
fireman."Lt. Greg Hicks.. nice to meet you,..uh...."

"Al.. or Martelli. I don't care which." said the fire engineer.

Holbrook fire nodded once.
"Okay. Al's faster. Now who do you got on so far?" Hicks rushed. "I only 
heard part of what you were doing earlier."

Al took Greg's hand in return and smiled limply with incredulous 
amazement. "Just a tarmack bus driver."

"Good start. He's one who'll be able to get to a lot of places for us." said Hicks 
happily. Greg swung a chair around backwards and made a few adjustments to 
Al's board. Then he grabbed the ham mike and thumbed the talk button."Bus ham. 
This is FD. I got ya on full quieting. Talk to me." And then he cleared the panel 
with a tone to reset the repeating timer. 

The bus driver outside immediately accepted the permission to talk.
## FD, I'm afraid I'm homebrew with a boat anchor. But I'll do what I can. 
I treat my rice box like a lover. FD, where should I take the injured? I found 
five so far. None are bad, just shaken a little.## 

"Drop them off at the med center!" said Hicks. "Then go scouting again. But do 
not. I repeat do NOT cross over any charged fire hoses. They're lifelines to our 
fireboys inside all those flames."

There was a long pause over the airwaves.
##Fires are ugly bastards. Don't they ever go out on their own? Gotcha 
about the no thuds. Say listen, I'm gonna try a scatter to the control tower. Their 
whole roof up there is one great big antennae farm. I think the ionosphere is low 
enough tonight to bounce. I might be able to reach them even though they ain't 
got no power past that WOLF generator. I'll run California kilowatt if I have to.##

"No." said Hicks over the air. "You can't risk burning out."

The bus driver was contrite, and surprised. ##But FD,...I- I have to know if 
those fellas are okay or not. They're my friends.##

"They'll be found soon. We've a team heading there right now." Al promised.
"Save your signal for us! You're our only relay link with our non-firefighters, 
kapesh?"

The tough accented New Yorker grunted.
##Yeah, yeah. I guess I know that now. Okay, that's cool. Oh! FD. I'm making a 
hard turn. I'm gonna haveta put down my mic for a few to unload all of these hurt 
people once I circle around.## 

Greg was mad about having a maverick lid on their hands. It showed in his voice.
"You do that! Priority! And get everybody's name and a headcount after each
trip and report them back to me." said Hicks. "Respect that firefighter with you,
and absolutely respect ALL of our hang time. We're running a pileup over here." 
he spoke about the busy communications traffic Martelli was fielding.

##Roger wilco. I'll be making a trip. And by the way? I can beef up this breadboard. 
I got a digipeater from the candy store just last week.## said the scared bus driver. 
##And yes, I'll avoid further ragchewing like this.## Then the ham channel was filled 
with nothing but a choppy amplifier sound as the driver got ready to set down his 
lollipop.

"Where's my Rettysnitch?" Hicks growled at their tarmack informant.

##Not there, old man.## laughed the bus driver. ##DSW for now.##

Greg hit the tone button just for spite.

"What th--?" Al asked, thoroughly confused by Greg's anger and 
by all the inside jargon that he couldn't understand.

"Nothing." Greg said, twisting knobs and dials on his part of the radio panel. 
"Just talking to myself. It helps me to think." Greg bit a sweaty lip and tasted 
fire foam. "Hear that?"

"You mean that staticky warble?" Martelli asked.

Hicks nodded, frowning. "He's picket fencing. I sure hope that patchwork 
transceiver of his can be boosted like he claims and last all night." said Greg.

"You have some doubts about that?" Al said, eyeing up the security camera
screens again that were showing the disaster scene.

Greg eyed up his companion firefighter. "No. If anything,..our contact is tenacious.
I think we can count on him."

"We're gonna have to." Al said no nonsense.

---------------------------------------------------------------

Photo: Al and Ted wearing Hazmat suits, talking.

Photo: Chet and Gage flinching at a scene.

Photo:  Al Martelli checking a fuse box.

Photo:  A fire department console radio station.

Photo:   Holbrook Fire Department's Jupiter engine.

Photo:   Sophie the dalmatian by a fire truck.

Photo:   A firefighter using a mobile ham radio in a car.

Photo:  A ham radio station and homemade repeater tower.

Photo:  An airport transportation bus driving by smoke and flames.

**************************************************
Subject: Channel Open... Eyes Closed...
From: 	patti k (pattik1@hotmail.com)
Sent: 	Fri 10/30/09 1:22 AM


"All stations, this is net control, W6A1." said
Martelli on the airport's general ground operations
channel from the fire station. "Are there any AOC or AOFs 
on frequency? If so, lay on your traffic.."

A static pileup met his ears in a confused tangle of replies.

##KX6JE,...##
     ##N4DL8## ... 
    ##This is WB6W Mobile.. SPAP.##  

"Break, Echo Xray.." Greg Hicks called out for the airport
dispatch department. "We need those hams at Simplex frequency 
135.3. Hams at 135.3. Bear with me all, I'm stacked real deep. Okay, 
go ahead,  KXGJE--N4DL8-- WB6W Mobile--  In that order. 
I'm wearing my cans." Hick said, putting on a set of sensitive
headphones.  "Echo Xray,..do you any injuries? Give locations. 
We have acquisition of signal."

##W6A1, Echo Xray. We're still assessing our status. Please stand by.##

A sudden whine of feedback interrupted.
     ##Break! Break! Break! W6A1-- HTCharlie 7 from A-side Fuel Deck. 
Emergency! I've a lady with a broken neck. ## screamed a panicked male 
airport employee.

"HTC7.. W6A1-- You're sure?" asked Martelli, surprised that there were injuries 
that far away from the burning terminal.

The frightened man practically squealed.
##Man, I'm so sure! She ain't sleeping for fun with her head layin' flat on her 
shoulder like this! A chunk of falling airplane nailed her good right through our 
main warehouse door!##

Greg Hicks nodded, thinking fast and calmly. "Okay, we'll take action. 
There's nobody over there yet to our knowledge."

##Don't we know it!## shouted the employee.

Al winced, sympathetic. "Sorry it's taking the world to find ya. How many with
you are injured?"

##Man, just her!##

"I got it. I got it. Just stay calm, all right? Keep her very still.  Have someone
find a light source and aim it outside at all of us so we can zero in."

##Okay. Understand it. ## he replied back, this time at something
far less than a shout. He got off the frequency.

Martelli sighed in stress. "This is gonna take forever, figuring out everybody's
911."

"That's the only die we have, Al.  We'll sort em out one at a time." Greg
said to ease Al's frustration. "Try sweeping the west end of the airport's 
channels, 1-7. Tap into everything. Surveillance, the fuelers, the three tarmack teams, 
especially security..  They're bound to know something fast about seeing people who're
hurt. Don't worry about organizing anything. That's not our job. Just write down all
possible location leads with their corresponding number of injuries. It's the ICs'
responsibility to delegate any right responses to what we tell them." Hicks
reasoned, opening up his own panel to the rest of the airport ham frequencies
8-14.

"I know that. I know that.." Martelli sighed deeply. "All right. Okay. Geesh, what
a mess out there." he said as people continued to crowd into the ham receiver.
Al finally got himself even keeled as he continued to gather information. 
"Any other reports of damage at 6 eye-eye-U?" he began. "Go ahead,
KXGJE. All other stations, please stand by."

He soon learned a horrifying story.  Simultaneously, Greg heard a second one.

##KXGJE--W6A1-  In the Hotel Restaurant.. A dozen trapped. ##

"On fire?" Al asked.

##Yes. ## replied the house manager. ##I don't know how many dead.
Too many to count.## she said hoarsely.

"Get out of there. Everybody alive who can be moved or carried. It's not safe."

##The emergency exits are all blocked from the outside. I--##

"Get out through your basement level severe weather shelter. Go north 
through the security checkpoint and into the subterranean parking garage. 
That's away from all the damage. Then get outside to the main boulevard. 
Help's stationed there. I'll have another fire crew party meet up with you by 
tracking back along your escape route." Martelli told her.

##But..##

"Go. Forget about any assets. The smoke is only going to get worse." 
Al told her, ferociously scribbling down the manager's situation onto a 
notepad.

Al's mic line clicked dead.

 
Greg bit his lip at his own ham station. "N4DL8, What's your damage?" 
he asked the Security Supervisor.

## We've heavy damage to the concrete foundation all along ticketing
and Gates A1 through A4. Baggage Claim is gone and I see at least two 
buses burning by what's left of the car rental place.##

"All your personnel accounted for?"

##No way in h*ll.##

"How about civilians?"

##Son, you've got the IQ of a salad bar if you think I can even begin to 
answer that!## barked the coughing, older officer on the channel.

"I meant how many alive or salvagable? On anybody." Hicks clarified
quickly.

## Nine. Everybody else that I can see around me, is dead. Including 
Theresa Ryder.##

That fact stunned the firefighters. The airport manager's office was
located in the most interior location of the airport. At its heart. If the damage had 
penetrated that far with a force enough to kill, they needed to know what kind it 
had been and what dangers still remained as soon as possible.

   @@@##Repeater Time Out.  Wait. Repeater Time Out. Cancel.. ###@@@
    came a mechanical voice of a machine over the channel.

"Oh, geez. No! Now I KNOW the FCC got that we've declared a state
of emergency.." Martelli boomed, incredulous, angry. "Who's fumbling the
ball over there?" he said as their ham radios suddenly went weak as they
were kicked off the network. 

Greg was completely calm in the storm. He raised a handy talkie to his lips.
"Chief, can you take the timer off for us? We're still running barefoot. Probably
because we're having trouble getting the APU started."

##IC-1 to W6A1. Which one?## asked Joe Rorchek through their channel.

"The power unit in the fire station's Room 3." Hicks replied, letting go of
his talk button with a bleep as he read the correct sign. Then he pressed the 
mic again, in a sudden thought. "You know what? We can bypass that. Where's 
the drop for the antennae? What we have now's barely warming the clouds." Greg 
explained. "We're stacking up badly into non-reception."

##It's just inside the door on your left as you look into the station from the 
runway. Big yellow spray painted---##

"Found it. Thanks, Chief. Two definite casualties at Fuel A. One female injury and 
one male green tag. He's emotional probably, and shocked as well." Greg 
said, leaning over to plug in the jack from the spool of cable that he had been 
playing out behind him. 

##We see their light. Heading over.## replied Joe. ##Keep dispatching us
to new places like you're doing. You know more about what's happening
globally than we do victim wise because you've got direct ham radio contact 
with the airport employees.##

"Right, Chief.." Greg said. "So far we've leads on two major incidences. One
at the Restaurant and the other in the Baggage Claim/Car Rental wing. Both 
are on fire."

##How many victims?##

"A dozen at the first. Nine at the second. I pointed the whole food place
underground and out the ramp to the avenue."

##That's the best plan. Holbrook 2 is receiving word. Baggage/Car Rental?##

"Two occupied buses burning. Missing security personnel. Heavy fatalities.
Unknown if related to smoke and fire or structural collapse. The concrete 
foundation in ticketing's been compromised."

##Oh, not good. A main fuel line runs under there to the tank farm.## 

"...which is right behind the medical center." Hicks finished.

Al hit a button to queue up all his ham callers to his board in the order received.
"Chief, should we evacuate triage?" he spoke into his talkie.

##Not  yet. It was given the all clear by our firefighters. Going to trust
their instincts.## said Joe. ##All right. I'm on continuous reception to
your HTs. Give me solid facts when you get them. And only solid facts.
Hang in tough, boys. We're doing all we can and more than ample help is 
already here. ##

Then next to him, Martelli minced his lips, looking fretful. Then he groped
for his HT and toggled out. " IC-1, uh.. Is Sophie there, helping?"

##She's a rock star.##

"10-4." Martelli hastily parked his HT, embarrassed for even asking. "Of course
she's fine. She's a fire dog." He sagged into his chair as he straightened
out a few curls with a broad sweep of relieved fingers through his hair.

Greg just stared at him. "You had any doubt?"

"Yeah, she's never seen any hurt people before." Martelli told him.
"Only mockups."

"Trust her instincts. They're as good as ours." Greg reassured him. "Why
do you think Dalmatians are always adopted by fire stations?"

Al took offense. "Because they're visible."

"Let's hope so tonight." Hicks  said eyeing up the worsening snow storm
swirling about their observation window. "There are plenty of people who
need saving."

@@##Repeater timer off..##@@ came the mechanical voice again and once 
more, their two boards sprang into a mix of encouraging and horrifying life.

This time, Martelli's faith didn't waver. "Finally." he said, slamming his
fist down onto the table top with eager enthusiasm. "Now we can get some real 
work done." he told Greg. He flipped a few dials. "Looks like we've just been 
given the top most priority air time of the whole county."

Hicks got right back into the saddle. "N4DL8-- W6A1. Receive me? 
Further report on your situation if you can."

An agony of seconds followed.

"He will." said Al, with a glint of hope in his eye. "I know him. He's a stubborn
old fart."

----------------------------------------------------------------

Photo:   Burning plane at night by a fire station.

Photo:   The nose of a plane through an airport
              boarding gate that has heavy damage.

Photo:   Airport firefighters in silver muster out.

Photo:   Chief Joe Rorchek on the radio.

Photo:   Roy, Johnny, Chet and Marco carry out a victim
              by stokes with Cap following on HT.

Photo:   Johnny looking up with surprise in a helmet.

Photo:   A wall of fire separating you and a calm runway.

Photo:   Greg Hicks at a ham radio station at the firehouse.

Photo:   Joe and the Chiefs at the MCI status board, receiving info.

Photo:  Roy in scba, finding two victims in a room full of fireglow. 

**************************************************
Subject: Broken Shells..
From: 	patti k (pattik1@hotmail.com)
Sent: 	Fri 11/06/09 1:00 AM

Roy and Johnny split off from the others, aiming for their chosen goal.
"IC-2, HT 51- DeSoto and Gage. We're heading for the control tower."
Gage radioed out.

##10-4, 51-A.## replied Hank. ##Bring plenty of air with you. Call for
assistance if there's excessively large fire before you enter.## Cap ordered.
##Closest team is two hundred fifty yards west of your location. They're with 
me. Note an exterior attack is in progress at the tower's base.##

Gage shrugged, hefting up a heavy rope coil bundle over his medical
pack and air bottle. "Sounds like we're well cushioned already." Johnny
sighed in relief as they rounded a corner into smoky darkness after 
double checking the seals on his scba mask.

"Pick a route.. Stairs or elevator?" Roy asked him, sweeping his flashlight
before him. 

"Elevator shaft. Less work to climb up that than any explosion crippled 
steel landings." Johnny decided.

Roy nodded.

A large expanse of perfectly groomed carpeting glowed under their flashlight
beams as they penetrated the pitch black main terminal even deeper. Only
the soaked flecks of active sprinkler doused embers lit their path.

DeSoto lifted his HT. "Cap, sprinklers are on east end main terminal." 

##Good news.##

"Where the h*ll is everybody?" Gage wondered, his breaths coming
in fast exertion as he hurried along. "The exit's right behind us."

DeSoto shook his masked, helmeted head. "Maybe they couldn't get out."

"Oh, don't say that." Johnny whispered.

--------------------------------------------------------------------------------
Hank and his large mobile rescue team entered the restaurant with
their stokes stretchers and fire hoses.  Body after body lay in
stillness before them in air that was incredibly hot. "Where's the fire?"
he asked his men.

One of them replied. "Got to be in the walls. Can't be below us. It's
all solid concrete foundation here according to the maps."

Cap nodded in agreement.
"Okay you two, check and then turn off any utilities. You pair, sweep for 
live fire. The rest of us'll stop and check all these people for survivors." 
Hank yelled through his mask. "Whatever you do, watch your backs!"

He felt his people start to work. Reaching up, Cap turned on the sprinkler
system in the area by knocking off a sprinkler head with his jacket axe from
a table as a precaution and a fast cool down measure for their victims.

The only sound they heard was from the gently falling water cascading down 
around them from all the released shower heads.

Cap knelt by the nearest casualty. It was a little girl, seemingly untouched
by harm. But she had no pulse when he felt for one with an ungloved hand.
Hank left behind a black triage tag and moved on to the next victim.

Person after person in the whole area was checked carefully for signs of life. 
All thirty six of them were very dead. Right where they laid sprawled, in awkward piles. 
No one was burned in the slightest. Hank was grim. "Let's move on into the kitchen. 
Out here must have been all toxic atmosphere."

He bent down and checked a jacket indicator filter. The yellow disk, was stained
red. "It's carbon monoxide. Maybe we can find somebody hiding in one of the food 
coolers in a pocket of good air." he suggested through his air mask, breathing hard. 
He lifted his HT to his faceplate. "IC-2 to all crews in airport west. We're reading
massive CO levels. Use extreme caution. Let's go."

But their search was fruitless. They left wax crayon victim statuses and times 
whereever they went on doors and on walls for the later teams coming in behind 
them after tagging the dead. No one anywhere, was found alive.

A few minutes later, they hit an exterior wall dimly lit by the fire of two burning
planes outside through windows that were paralleling their new route along the orange 
concourse. Hank saw some movement in a man huddled by a window. He was wearing 
airport tarmack gray and his face was pressed desperately against a hole in the 
glass of a cracked window near the floor. "Over here!" Hank yelled. "Somebody 
bring a resuscitator!" He shouted on radio. He threw a flashing beacon onto the 
floor near him as a visible marker in the wet, raining darkness.

A fireman obeyed and clattered in with an apparatus. Carefully, Cap rolled the man
over and began actively ventilating him on pure oxygen using the positive pressure
valve to boost his feeble breathing. That fireman stayed behind to assist, while the 
others continued on with their search and rescue efforts.

"He's barely conscious.." Hank told the fireman. "But I think he was in good enough air 
down here for the most part." Cap read the man's name tag and access badge. 
"He's a fuel manager. Here, take over. I want to see if I can wake him long enough 
to get some solid info out of him before we turn him over to the bug out crews."

The firefighter complied, manually forcing in only enough oxygen to make the man's 
chest just begin to rise, to prevent any harm. 

Hank rubbed a few knuckles into the man's chest that he had just bared. "Hey, Chad.
Can you hear me? Open your eyes.." he shouted.

The older manager startled awake, and then he jerked when he felt the end of
a machine delivered cool breath as it was fed into his lungs. "Whaa?" He 
started coughing, and then he tried to push the resuscitator off his nose and mouth.

"Easy there. It's okay. This is just oxygen. Can you hold this mask to your face?"
Cap asked him, covering the man's panicked fingers that had grabbed 
the demand valve with his own. "Just suck this in, you'll be able to breathe better 
soon."

Panic, confusion and fright all marched across the manager's dirty face.
Finally, he spoke as his strength returned and his breathing sped up.
"You're firefighters."

"Yes." Cap smiled through his faceplate.

"What happened?" Chad mumbled around the mask.

"A Concorde crashed in the airfield. Part of it hit the terminal."

The man sat up quicky, coughing. "I remember!" he said,
keeping the oxygen mask the other firefighter had handed to him close 
to his face. "I was running to check the refinery line!"

"What can you tell me about those docked planes out there? Are they occupied?"
Cap asked him, holding the manager's shoulders steady.

"The middle one. The one that's not on fire yet. I sent my prep crew in there!" he 
panicked.
 
"We'll go get them out right now. Calm down." Cap said, gesturing for a nearby 
firefighter to call in that finding to the outer fire engine crews. "You may be hurt 
somewhere."

"No, I don't think I am."

"Okay. Do any of your planes have critical cargo on board?" Hank pressed.

"Uh,..." Chad sweated. "..no. They're all scheduled just routine maintenance.
Food, fuel, oxygen.. Just the usual deal." he said numbly, getting sleepy with 
shock and from the poisoned air. "Oh, why do I feel sick?"

"Rest easy.  More help is on the way." Cap told him, lying him back onto
the floor. He whistled sharply through his scba for an arriving stretcher crew to
hurry on over to get the manager out. "Conscious. Smoke inhalation. No spinal 
precautions needed! Watch yourselves and him closely. This whole place
is chock full of CO."

"Yes, sir! We heard the alert." they replied, swiftly accomplishing a mask 
exchange on the manager for their own portable oxygen supply.

Cap rose to his feet to return to the head of the search party with his
resuscitator apparatus carrying arff assistant behind him. He raised his radio
to his lips and gave a report update to Joe Rorchek and the paramedics
still working themselves inside from the other end of the airport.

---------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
Chet Kelly was teamed up with Hallie Green. They moved down a fork
that Roy and Johnny said would lead to the rental car and taxi stand
commons area.

They both tensed behind their charged fire hose as they dragged
it along in their wake. 

Green sucked in a worried breath of air from her bottle and mask.
"Why aren't we seeing anybody? Your captain said he saw lots of
people through the windows."

Chet turned and grinned at her as he put out a small fire on
the carpeting just ahead of them. "I'm a raging optimist. I think the
the majority managed to get themselves out in time. See that fire door? 
It's hanging wide open."

"Let's hope so." said the blond bunned firefighter, gripping her triage
bag a little tighter.

She swept her flashlight around to the front of her, and stumbled on
a sudden rise. It was the carpetted floor, rising up into the air at
a forty five degree angle. "Oh, sh*t." she cursed. "Look at all this damage
ahead." she sighed in disbelief. "We can't go in any further without a full 
urban firecrew to make sure things safe for us."

Kelly nodded in agreement and used his HT. "HT 51 to IC-2. We're
just approaching the west wing car rental taxi stand. We're seeing three
major successive uplifted heaves in the concrete foundation 
along the green concourse. Structural damage is extensive. Request
an Urban to preceed us."

##HT 51-B, I concur. Back off and try another area that's less dangerous
for now until they move in to your location.##
Hank replied.

"10-4." said Kelly in reply.

Hallie backtracked them to the corridor where she thought they had all split 
up to do their site sweeps. "Whoa.. we're lost.." she said to him.

Chet looked up from his GPS. "No, we're not. A way out's just over
there." he said, pointing around the dark silhouette of the security arch.  
Then he did a double take in shock, his eyes attracted to the pitch black
area just to the side of it. "Oh, my G*d, Hallie, is that the nose of a plane?"

She stopped in her boots and shifted her red helmet a little higher up onto
her head. "Yeah, isn't this about where the middle one is?" she said. "Let's 
go check it out." she said, still stunned at seeing part of an airliner 
crashed through a wall at the very center of an interior passenger boarding 
terminal.  "I'm not seeing any clear danger yet. So far so good. 
And where there isn't any fire..."

"...we might be able to find some people." Chet finished. He pointed
up to the ceiling. "Crack out a sprinkler head. Let's drown any further 
chance of a fire out here. Looks like the initial explosion's long since over."

"Cracking heads." she saluted, through her steamed up faceplate.

"No, let's just go find some." Chet joked to ease their stress.

Hallie raised their fire hose and tightened its stream into a fine point.
She easily destroyed a few trigger valves before turning it off again.

The reassuring sound of spraying water activating all around them 
worked to calm the worst of their fears as they continued to scout on ahead.

----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
Johnny felt the metal elevator doors in the basement of the control tower 
carefully. "No fire here."

"No, but that brick wall's cracked." said Roy. "And that could mean
gas leaks, electrical fires..."

"I hate knowing so much." Gage grumbled, checking the amount of
air he still had left in his air bottle by reading the regulator dial.
"I'm at forty five. You?"

"About the same."

Together, they forced open the doors with a pair of magnetic grippers.
Soon, they were looking up the smoky shaft toward the control tower's
observation deck. They slowly began the five story climb using an intact
maintenance ladder. And they repeatedly kept shouting the air controllers' 
names, the whole way up to the top, lighting their route carefully with a 
pair of helmet lamps.

"There's no answer." Johnny coughed, through his air mask. "It is hot?" he
asked of the final doors they had yet to open.

Roy pulled off a glove and felt the metal. "No."

"Okay.." Gage sighed.

Gasping, DeSoto and Gage utilized the magnetic gripper handles one more
time, above the quiescent and unused elevator car. Fresh cold air poured in.
"The air's safe in there." said Gage, pulling off his mask.

The half and half level floor that met their first glance, was dripping blood into 
the elevator shaft. Johnny quickly found a pair of shoes tightly pressed against 
the wall to his right after they climbed out.  "He's under a lot of debris.." Johnny
said. Then he looked up around his helmet."Looks like part of the ceiling came 
down on top of--"

"Gene's dead.." came a nearly inaudible moan from very nearby. The second 
air traffic controller was seated haphazardly in a chair, facing the wide windows, 
holding a hand held light up high in the air. DeSoto saw that he was flashing 
colors of red and green over and over again into the snowing sky at as many 
different orientation points as he could reach.

Roy rushed over to him. "Are you hurt? My partner's going to see about your
friend,.... Mike." he said, reading the young air traffic controller's name tag.

"I'm telling you. He's dead." Mike whispered into Roy's ear when the paramedic
bent down to hear him speak.

DeSoto blinked, glancing around at the extent of damage evident 
in the room surrounding them. "He's still mostly buried back there. Did you 
dig around a little? Enough to check for a pulse?"

The dazed man just shook his head. 

Roy knelt by the man's side, taking off his faceplate. "Then how do you know 
that for sure? My partner and I, we can--"
  
"I know that Mister Fireman, because the rest of my boss, is over here."
he said numbly, his eyes filling with tears, pointing down to a stained bit of 
floor near his feet.

Looking down, Roy saw only half a victim. 

DeSoto quickly covered the remains with a pack tarp. Then he swiftly wheeled 
the still seated Porter away from the sight to the other side of the round aerial 
room, that still wasn't damaged.  "Johnny, the other one's Code F."

Gage looked up from the debris pile he was still digging through near
the shoes. "Why? What gives you that idea? I think I almost uncovered a
femoral---" Then he broke off when he saw where Roy was pointing. "Oh."

A muffled explosion met their ears, making both firefighters duck. 

"And it looks like the roof's on fire." DeSoto added, shaking a piece
of burning paper from around his wrist.

Mike Porter mumbled more. "There a twenty five gallon propane tank
up there." he said dully, still gripping the signalling light gun. He pointed
it aimlessly at Roy.

"Where?" Gage demanded, squinting in the circles of green and red
that flashed in his eyes from Roy's jacket.

"Right above the elevator shaft." Porter replied quietly.

"Then we're somewhat shielded, even if it blows up." Johnny figured out.
"There's got to be a hut up there for the cable pulleys between us and 
tops of these windows."

"Yeah.." Roy agreed, lifting his radio. "HT 51-A to IC-2. One alive in the tower. 
New fire on the roof with a propane risk. A 25'ver. Our free air's uncontaminated."

##An Addison's on the way up your flank. Hang tight.## Cap promised.
 
Leaning down, DeSoto took the light out of the air controller's hand as the 
man wilted in fresh grief. "Oh, Gene..Why did this have to happen on our 
watch?"

Johnny joined Roy at his side, where he knelt by Porter, to begin a care
assessment. "How's that scrape on your head? Do you have a headache?"

Porter instantly snapped in anger. "What do you think? I just saw my
best friend die right in front of me." he gasped. Then he looked
horrified. "Oh, no.. where's the gun? I can't stop warning people away, 
I'm the only one up here who can--  There may be another crash, another
crisis plane like that Concorde.. Oh, no. All those people." he sobbed.

"Here, I'll do it." DeSoto offered. "You just rest a while and let my partner
check you over for other injuries, okay? It's this button here, right?"

Porter quickly got a grip on himself after a few full breaths of air.
"Yeah, just keep sweeping that in wide arches, all around the circle of
our observation deck. They'll see us then." he said urgently. "Don't 
stop."

"What am I saying with it?" Roy asked, squinting at its brillance.

" 'Caution. Extreme Caution. Stay away.' It's naval signalling." Porter replied 
tightly anxious.

"Oh. Okay." said DeSoto, letting the man guide his arm around in
demonstration. "I got it. Just stay seated."

Johnny pulled off his work gloves for medical ones. "Now about this
headache. Did you black out?"

"No, I get migraines when I get under stress. Got any coffee?"

Johnny didn't even blink. "Fresh out. How about an I.V.? Got some
good ones here."

"No. Absolutely not. I hate needles." Porter shuddered. He began
to hold his still painful head. "Gah, I can't concentrate on this
radar. By law, I can't leave until somebody relieves me."

"You're kidding." Roy gaped.

"Nope. Wish I was. Don't want to get sued."

"We're on fire!" Gage expressed pointedly.

"So? Does that ever stop you from trying to save people?"
Porter returned fire. "Cause a whole bunch more.. will die... if
I don't keep warning other planes away from us, using this board."
he explained, enraged. Then he folded up in utter agony as his
blood pressure did a number inside of his skull.

Gage leaned down to his level. "If you let me stick you, I can give
you a pain killer.." he dangled.

"No drugs. I won't be able to think straight."

"You think you're thinking straight now?" Johnny countered. "I'd say
you're pretty rattled, a twelve on a scale one to ten." Gage said tersely.
"Now in about five minutes, a whole group of firefighters are going
to appear right in front of your nose in a bucket to haul your *ss out
of here."

"No they're not. I know my rights. I'm conscious, I'm cognizant, and
you can't touch me if I don't want you to, treatment wise." Porter
glared back softly. "The law says I can refuse you."

"Well, I--  Okay, enjoy that pain. We're not leaving either." Gage said,
crossing his arms over his jacketted chest. "But you will soon, because
that shock's gonna start getting the best of you. And when you finally
black out, that same law says we can do anything with you afterwards
that we need to do, in order to save your life."

"Fine."

"Fine!" Johnny spat back, getting genuinely angry.

Roy DeSoto just kept on flashing the light gun into the clouds as silence 
reigned.

Mike Porter busied himself with trying to rewire an emergency radio
to a battery, so that it could function.

After burning his fingers for the third time on a soldering iron,
Porter finally had enough. "Ow,.. can you make this headache end without
konking me out?"

"Of course, we're paramedics, aren't we?" Gage said, throwing up
his hands.

"Okay, do it. And I- I-- I don't wanna watch when-- when.. when you
finally stick me. I might faint."

"Good." Johnny glared evilly.

"But I don't faint. I can't faint." Porter reasoned.

"You won't faint.." countered Roy evenly as he looked back from his
light signalling foray. "Johnny's real good. Half the time I don't even
feel the needle when he has to start an I.V. on me when I'm hurt."

"Really?" Porter moused.

"Yeah." DeSoto said genuinely.

Mike eyed him skeptically. "Okay." he said guardedly. "Have it your way.
Do your stuff." he said, holding out a trembling arm.

"Finally." Gage said, smacking his hands together. "What'll it be? D5W?
That way you'll get at least the sugar part of your missing sugar and coffee cup."

"Oh, a funny from a firefighter." Mike patronized tiredly. "I've
had enough of you guys' sense of humor to last me a lifetime. Just
ask G--" he broke off, miserable once more.

A few minutes later, Porter was pain controlled with a little meperidine. 
Everybody was coping. The paramedics had their critically needed 
lifeline in, and a cranky patient still had what he thought was his independence.
::Just peachy.:: Gage thought sarcastically.

At least, they weren't arguing anymore when the ham radio burst into life on 
the debris smashed, half battery-rigged control console.  ##Sherman Point  
to ISLIP, can we assist?  We can cover your incoming rogue New York 
approaches and any evac chopper departures you need to launch. On 118.0. 
We are able as backup CT.##  

Porter swallowed his pain nervously. "Rogues?! Oh, I knew somebody 
else was still out there past Concorde."

"Wait a minute, Porter. Who are those people?" Roy asked, lowering
the flashing light gun he was aiming out all the windows.

"*cough* Keep signalling, no matter what you do. Don't stop!" 
Mike begged Roy, as he began shivering in every pore. "T-The snow curtain's still 
obscuring the ground. Those pilots can't see what's going on here. But 
they can see our light gun.. We're above the fog a-a-and all that smoke 
and f--" Mike suddenly blinked hard. He had lost track of what he had just 
been saying. His voice fell away, slurred. "Ohhhh.."

Gage narrowed his eyes appraisingly. "Mike, are you hurt worse than
you've let on?"

Porter grabbed for a microphone nearby, and missed as another sudden
wave of lurid grogginess overcame him. 

Roy set down the signaller. "Mr. Porter? What's going on? Can you
talk to us?" DeSoto was surprised the air controller didn't get upset at him 
again for interrupting the light gun's urgent flashing.

The new transmission group continued to hail from the ham radio channel.
## ISLIP, can you respond? We've been enabled.##

"Roy, ribs." Gage said as he grabbed Mike's I.V. arm to steady him. 
"There's a small cut or something I missed before on his side here. It's 
oozing fresh blood through his shirt."

Porter gasped when his awareness suddenly returned. He
got angry, swiping Johnny's seeking gloves away. "I'm fine. W-We
have to keep working. Don't touch me!"

Johnny spread his arms wide, in a gesture that was non-threatening. 
"Okay.. okay. All right. I'll leave ya alone. Well, how about this then?
Are those folks talking at us right now authorized to handle all your air 
traffic?"

Porter coughed weakly without answering as he voluntarily 
sagged even more against his console from his chair. He held
up a couple of wait gesturing fingers that turned into a tight fist.

Roy got urgent. "Mike, where else are you in pain exactly? We found
a small laceration on your chest. Is it there?"

##ISLIP, our channel is wide open. Acknowledge.##

Roy noticed bright pink froth beginning to run from Porter's tensed up 
mouth.

DeSoto startled. "Johnny, he's lung compromised."

Gage took charge quickly. "Oh, bad. Real bad. Mike, that wound of yours 
is probably sucking air. I'm gonna have to seal it off fast." Johnny warned. 
"And it's going to hurt when I do that."

"....no..." Porter said, trying to push Johnny away.

"Mike, this kind of thing can be bad enough to kill you."

"...n--"

Johnny got firm. "I've gotta treat you whether you like it or not, even before 
you black out." Gage insisted, trying not to hurt Porter by deflecting his 
weaker shoves.

"...you promised.."

"Mike, you're in shock.." Roy tried reason.

"I.... can't.... leave...my....post.  Don't try to make me abandon it."
Mike gasped, panting desperately.

"Mike, do you really want to die doing your job?" Gage insisted. 

Roy lowered his head.  "Listen to him, Mike. We're not lying. Tell me 
something. Has a firefighter ever lied to you before? Ever?"

Porter grunted, gasping in pain. Then he shook his head slowly
and stopped fighting Gage enough to let him probe around his torso
a little closer. "No, but they're d*mned devious sometimes." Mike said,
trying to grin.

"Only doing jokes, man. Only then." Johnny chuckled seriously.
Gage pursed his lips tightly as he finished cutting away Mike's soot 
blackened shirt with a pocket knife as he looked for other telltale 
blood stains. There were none. "Roy, it's just there."

"Not much loss at all." DeSoto said, retaking Porter's pulse. "But he's
getting real thready here."

Gage didn't lose focus on other matters. "Mike, now tell me everything. 
Who exactly is that caller we haven't answered yet?"

##ISLIP Tower, do you copy our signal?##

Porter paled seconds later as Johnny applied strong hand pressure 
against the tender place on his ribcage. "T-They're a tiny communications 
hub near the FAA beacon  Clera. *gasp* They do have a small ....radar. 
Bless their everlovin'--"

"Then you've no more reason to risk yourself by staying here. We're 
moving you out now. Johnny, let's get him ready." ordered Roy.

"No way. I--"

Johnny yelled.
"Mike, don't be stupid! You're seriously injured. You're going to let these 
people know you're about to leave your post. Right now! Roy? They said CT 
earlier. I'll just bet that means duties as in control tower." Gage growled.

"No bet." DeSoto agreed.

Mike flared, pushing out red spittle. "They can't do that! I'm the one who--"
Confusion bloomed across Porter's face as he suddenly struggled just to 
breathe.

DeSoto began measuring a short airway alongside Mike's face from his lip 
angle to an ear as he held the man's head still.

Porter flinched feebly.  "What's that?"

Roy replied. "Nothing important for the moment." he said stonily, palming it 
into a glove. "Feeling like you're going to black out?"

Gage supported DeSoto's hardball, even while he supported Mike's neck.
He was still covering the sucking chest wound with his other hand. 
"It's not pretty, is it?" Johnny asked his stubborn patient.

Porter tried to focus on his two rescuers. And failed. He gave in, closing his eyes.
"Okay.. Uhh. I lied. Yes, they can help out." he said, licking heavily blue lips. "I'll 
talk to them first. Then I'll do... whatever you want..." he gasped. "I feel bloody 
awful."

Mike Porter grimaced weakily as he nodded for DeSoto to toggle the talk switch 
on the mic that lay resting just out of reach of his questing fingers. He struggled 
to stay upright in the chair and was startled to find himself leaning on Gage's 
supporting arm more and more.

Roy committed the control. **Beep** Open radio met their ears. 
"Okay, you're on, Mike." DeSoto said.

Mike spoke, shocked that his voice was just a gasp. "Frank, you take the n-net. 
I'm hurt. Take the net before I--" His trembling hands began to flip over switches 
and levers. One by one, his control board panel lights changed from green to 
amber.  "..am dragged out of here by a pair of smart*ss firefighters.." he rasped.

##Roger, accepting net control to Sherman.... Transferred in three, two, one
...Mark.##

Porter dropped as if poleaxed and the two paramedics caught him as he rag dolled 
out of the control chair. Without wasting time, DeSoto and Johnny laid him flat on 
the floor. DeSoto slipped in the oropharyngeal airway while Johnny drew out a 
needle decompression set from his med pack. "He's suffocating, Roy."

"Yeah... It's gotta be a tension pneumo." Roy agreed, drawing out
a stethoscope from inside of his jacket to listen. "He's not gurgling in the slightest 
and he's hyperpercussive. We've got to reduce this right now. Or he's not gonna 
have enough lung space for the trip down, even manually ventilated." Roy said, 
lifting the drum away from Porter's sooty chest. "Still not feeling any rib fractures 
around that hole."

"I wonder what punctured him, Roy." Gage said, sealing off the 
tiny wound with an occlusive dressing.

"Doesn't matter. We'll spineboard him anyway. Let the doctor
worry about that little mystery later." Roy said, working fast to package 
Porter's hanging I.V. to a place under the controller's shoulder. "Do you
feel comfortable staying under all of that.." DeSoto asked, pointing 
towards the still groaning, sleet dripping ceiling."..just to play medical
examiner?" 

"Nope. Let's get out of here." Gage said, standing after rechecking
the petroleum bandage he had placed over the ragged tear in
Mike's chest. "You do the honors." he said, passing the paper sheathed 
long chest needle and valve over to Roy. "I'm gonna go call THIS number." 
he announced, moving quickly on his feet. "Two birds with one stone."

Johnny spoke into his HT loudly. "Heads up below the tower!!
Falling glass!" Then he whirled, grabbing a console chair by its wheels 
and back. With one move, he threw the heavy piece of furniture into
the still pristine window in front of them, shattering it into a million
tinkling silver fragments that glinted as they sprayed out
into a ring of shards under the orangish red firelight.

The night suddenly invaded the tower room with bone chilling wind 
and even thicker snow.

"Him first into the bucket.. Then I'm going in last, after you." Johnny said firmly.
Gage parked his butt onto the edge of the dropoff and whistled as he waved in 
contact with a nearby ladder aerial bucket apparatus that was slowly lengthening 
towards them from behind a huge blossom of cooling fire foam. 

"Who says? We'll flip for it." DeSoto shrugged, keeping a few fingers
on Porter's rapid carotid.

"Roy, that injury you've been hiding makes you my patient."

"It's minor." Roy grinned. "Just a burn. I'm not degloved." he said,
shifting his weight around as he swabbed a place down on Porter's
sweat slicked chest with betadine.

"Tough. It's still circumfrential. I saw how that flame nailed you. 
We're going in that order." Johnny said, not smiling. "The grip in your 
hand's gotta be way off."

"PFffffffft." went the internal press of air from Mike's chest cavity 
out through the needle that Roy had quickly stabbed beneath taut 
gristle and skin. "Who says?" DeSoto grinned grimly. 
"I'm right on the mark."

Beneath Roy's stabilizing hands Mike began to gasp harder through 
his unconsciousness as his serious air hunger finally began to resolve 
away into a more normal breathing pattern.

"That's it. His lungs are expanded again." Roy said as he jerked
the evacuation needle out. "Turning up his I.V. to wide open 
to counteract a pressure drop."

"I'll get the oxygen from the guys out there." Johnny said, reaching
through the yawning hole he had created. A new screaming gust howled
around them both powerfully, fueling the ceiling fire.

But then the flames above them went out as the roof around the propane tank
was smothered in soupy retardant from the rescue bucket's stream. "You guys all 
right in there?" asked Rags Harris, manning the nozzle's full open aperature.
"We saw the emergency toss out."

"Yeah, we just needed to ventilate this guy a little before we bailed."
Roy told him. "Window smashing was the fastest solution."

"The two air controllers were still up here?" Then he started counting bodies.
"Where's Skidwell?" the burly firefighter asked.

Gage fixed his eyes onto the ground, where hustling teams of silver suited 
firefighters were milling about their scene. "He didn't make it." Johnny said, 
with a shake of his helmeted head.

Harris seemed to freeze as cold as the ice falling in wet piles around him.
"Ah,, Gene.." Rags said with a groan of anguish. "He was a good 
guy." his face crumpled in immediate grief. "He lived for ya, man. You know?"
he sobbed suddenly, shocked. "The best friend you ever had. What the 
h*ll happened?"

"We found him in back with a piece of the roof on top of him." DeSoto said. 
"It..... must have been quick." Roy added softly. "Got some O2?"

"Yes."
Harris tightened his jaw and shoved in the clanking tank of oxygen 
that was already fitted with a face mask and thumb trigger. He became 
hard as steel in voice and body as he began to force himself to cope. 
"Here. Ready for the long board yet?"

"Yeah.. we're set." Gage said, reaching for the offered equipment.
"Radio out to Triage. Red tag. A resolved tension pneumo. No fractures.
No gag reflex."

"You got it." Rags said, all business. 

--------------------------------------------------

Photo: Gage searching a dark disaster zone.

Photo:  An airport baggage claim area.

Photo:   Fire trucks erecting light towers.

Photo:   A plane crashed through an airport concourse.

Photo:   Hallie Green, yelling in scba.

Photo:   Chet Kelly HT communicating through an airmask.

Photo:   Cap and firefighters searching in airbottles.

Photo:   A sooty victim, seated in wet debris.

Photo:   A helmeted Roy looking grim in darkness. 

Photo:  A pile of roofing debris.

Photo:   A closeup of a burning control tower.

Photo:   Mike Porter, a young air traffic controller, panicking.

Photo:   An air traffic light gun signalling device by windows.

Photo:  An I.V. D5W bag, closeup.

Photo:  A injection being given to an I.V. port.

Photo:  An oxygen masked injured man.

Photo:   Johnny Gage and other firefighters, unloading
              a victim from a ladder truck basket.

Photo:   A vast field of fire and black debris at night.
 
**************************************************
Subject: From The Depths..  
From:  Patti Keiper <pattik1@hotmail.com>
Sent: 	Fri 11/13/09 2:05 AM

Chet Kelly and Hallie Green got about forty feet nearer to the
commercial airliner that had been thrust nose cone first through
the ticketting area, when the smell of raw Jet A penetrated
even their self contained air fed faceplates. 

"*Choke.*  No way are we going in there. Not without being sure
everything's shut off and shut down." Chet told his female firefighter
partner. "There's a huge leak or fuel pool nearby!"

"But... It's still cool with no fire, the water's on, and it looks like the power's 
off in our whole entire area." she suggested. "People, if they're still here,
can't wait any longer for us, Chet."

Kelly scoffed, immediately about facing for the gaping rend in the airport
terminal wall that led to the outside, close to heavy hose backup.
"Do you want to fry in a fumes blast? Cause I'm not in the mood to get 
a free winter tan and complimentary close New York shave, anytime soon."

Green made a face. "Let's just let the gas sniffer decide. Anything even
close to red, and we'll bail."

"Deal.  Whew...Can't you smell it? My nose is stinging." Chet said, making 
for the front door anyway, even as he kept a nimble close eye out for hot spots 
and fresh building smoke.

Green began to get nervous as she drew out the probe from the small unit in
her pocket. "Can't smell a thing. I've got the start of a cold working on me."

"Maybe that's 100LL."

"The FS? Hardly. It's supposed to stench up a place when exposed to air."

The meter immediately began howling. Green made a tiny noise of shock.

Kelly immediately held up his gloves. "Be calm. Just relax."

"There are old fire sparks everywhere!" She emphasized, fidgetting as she 
hurried back the way they had come.

"We're moving in the right direction to safety." Kelly reassured her.

"Not fast enough!" Hallie shouted him and began her fastest sprint for the outside.

Chet's nonchalance lasted about five seconds before he, too, gave into blind
fleeing panic.

As another fast measure, both firefighters turned off their handy talkies to prevent
any inadvertant spark of static electricity that could ignite the invisible gas cloud
they now knew was slowly spreading its dangerous essence through the dark and 
broken airport.

------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Greg Hicks continued to hail the security supervisor through the fire station ham radio.

"N4DL8, this is W6A1. Can you hear me?" the Hollbrook fireman continued.

Al Martelli shook his head in frustration. "This is bad. I'm telling you, something's 
seriously wrong."

"You figure."  Hicks gestured, impatient, at the firestorm still licking the foot of the
now totally evacuated control tower. 

"I mean something ELSE is not right. Something we haven't gotten wind of yet."
The Italian firefighter said, biting a rough nail. 

"What? We've enough guys--"

"And gals." Al corrected, thinking of Hallie Green and Dr. Joanne Almstedt.

Greg didn't miss a beat. "....and gals to pretty much cover any unexpected angle at 
this point. I swear every firefighter from here to New Jersey's put in an appearance. 
Just look at all those companies!" Hicks gestured again, squinting in the flashing 
red lights clustered along every safe runway at the airport. 

Martelli wasn't comforted. "Gordon.. always.. answers his radio."

"Maybe he was smart and abandoned ship." Greg shrugged.

"An airport is not a ship." Martelli snapped. 

"Gordon's not a captain, nor is he navy. He's.. well...he's a member 
of the Lyons club." Greg said, consulting his airport personnel dossiers
that he had laid out all over their work table.

"Close enough." Al said.

"Then why isn't he answering?" Greg insisted. "Think he got into that trouble
you're guessing at?"

The jury rigged radio crackled into life before them. Both firefighters skidded forward
on their wheeled chairs in the communications room toward that microphone, but Al
beat his partner to the grab. Martelli hefted up the mic and cord in triumph. "Unit calling
in repeat. This is W6A1, Fire Station One." he hailed urgently.

## *Static*.. *Static..*##

Al slammed down the talk button. "Try Morse Code. You don't need much power with
that."

A long dragged out silence reigned. Then a long string of dots and dashes began
to filter in a hurry through the fire department noise from the other crowded speakers.

##  .-. ..- .--. - ..- .-. . -.. / -- .- .. -. / ..-. ..- . .-.. / .-.. .. -. . .-.-.- / --. . -.-- ... . .-. .. -. --. /
 --. .- ... / - .... .-. --- ..- --. .... / - .... . / ..-. .-.. --- --- .-. ! / .- ..- - --- -- .- - .. -.-. / ... .... ..- - /
 --- ..-. ..-. / ... .- ..-. . --. ..- .- .-. -.. ... / .... .- ...- . / ..-. .- .. .-.. . -.. .-.-.-  ##

( http://www.voyagerliveaction.com/morsecode.mp3 )

Al's forehead was still creased in total confusion when Hicks stood up so fast to reach 
his Main IC Channel HT, that his chair fell over backwards. "Break! Break! IC-1 and IC-2! 
Message from Security/Ticketting! RUPTURED MAIN FUEL LINE. GEYSERING GAS 
THROUGH THE FLOOR! AUTOMATIC SHUT OFF SAFEGUARDS HAVE FAILED."

The fire department scanning board came to instant life. ## Roger that emergency traffic.
All personnel converge on the main terminal if not actively in a frontal attack or vertical attack.
W6A1, abandon your post and meet at IC-2's staging area ASAP. I want every available
hand finding the source of that leak and the means of how to shut it off.## Chief Joe Rorchek
ordered. ##Maintain standard large fuel safe distances while conducting your search.##

Captain Stanley, soon reciprocated with like orders. ##HTs 51-A, 51-B and all other paramedic
search and rescue teams, meet up with me as soon as possible for reassignment and for
an emergency personnel head count. Grab any victims along the way only as long as it 
doesn't slow you down.##

Both commanders addressed the airport's layout map for more information on the new
risk they all faced. Nearby, support personnel began building medical gear around
open ambulances with deployed stretchers in the green zone.

Martelli and Hicks ran for their assigned fire truck and outer turnout gear. They abandoned 
the station so fast, the snow was still blowing into the closing apparatus bay doors when they
reached their emergency rendevous destination.

---------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------


Johnny Gage and Roy DeSoto looked at each other.
"How long do you want to stay before we leave?" the Native American 
paramedic firefighter asked his work partner.

Roy DeSoto hefted up his tools pack and the resuscitator meaningfully.
"Technically, we're safe already. We're over five hundred yards away
from ticketting and the security concourse. But, we still need to make
Cap's attendance row."

"We'll go. We'll go.. I just have a feeling about this last stairwell. I'm sick of
finding just DOAs lying ar---" he broke off when his shoulder met with 
an obstruction to the door he had just skin tested as being fire free. "Well
that's odd. There's no structural damage in this part of the terminal."

"No it's not. This is heavy as in it's being blocked." Roy confirmed, restuffing
the search marking tape back into a shirt pocket.

Gage began shouting loudly at the door through his faceplate. "Hey!
If you can hear me, back away from the door! We're gonna get you out!
But you gotta move back!"

With a concerted effort, Gage and DeSoto pushed all of their weight against
the metal door and got it cracked ajar just enough to see a row of black fingers 
and a few knees jut themselves out. It was a panicked crush of people, piled
high against the exit. Smoke shot out in a lurid mane of gray from around the 
door.

"There's a lot of fire in there!" Johnny said. He radioed for Marco and Rags and
Chet and Green to assist them in pushing back the people using the door. 
Finally, with five firefighter backs straining into it, the door finally opened.

A literal river of sweaty, coughing bodies in the worst kind of blind terror flooded 
out. Fifteen or twenty adults shoved past their rescuers who just let them by,
with one or two helpful shoves into the right escape direction. "Watch your head! 
You're trampling her! Be careful!  Slow down!" Johnny tried to shout.

Roy just stayed silent, helping people untangle legs and arms from falls over
debris and other victims trying to escape the heat that oozed out behind them.

"You're okay now. Anyone still in there?" Green said, guiding a few as they ran by.

Nobody answered.

"They're blitzed." Hallie said. "But they're all on their feet." she told the others as
they pressed against the wall tightly to make more room for their victims to pass
through.

As soon as the crowds tearing out of the stairwell ended, Roy DeSoto immediately
entered the landing. He peered at where the back wall used to be. It was totally
engulfed in flames. Hot and deadly.  Without being summoned, the crew assigned
knockdown wormed in past Roy as he knelt by two silent forms lying on
the concrete. He reported the situation to Cap. "Stairwell Five's a hot spot. Multiple
ambulatory on the way out! Checking for stragglers." Then he spoke to the others. 
"There's two still in here! Both alive!" DeSoto shouted as he crawled over to a sooty 
woman and man laying sprawled before him.

"Add two more by me." said Gage. "Looks like they're food workers." he said, feeling
for signs of breathing after his pulse checks.

"Maybe this was that part the restaurant crowd who got separated from the others."
Chet said, hauling one man up into a carry onto his airbottled back.

"Could be. There's no tunnel down there." said Roy, picking up the nearest person
to him after offering her his air breathing mouth piece apparatus.

Soon, all the firefighters were laden with the four unconscious people.
Hallie Green took up the front as a safety, following their lifeline rope back
to the entrance. Behind them, a hose team pair provided cooling measures.

On the way out to the hazmat showers and the initial triage area, Roy and Johnny
saw a person floundering in a pool of sprinkler water in a depression in the floor.
The illumination towers a support fire department had recently deployed provided
enough light to see by for her fast rescue. The hose crew relieved Gage and 
DeSoto of their victims and made a beeline outside.

Johnny peeled down to his shirt and pants to make the save. It took only moments
in the clearer air near the shattered windows of the terminal. "She's bleeding
badly from the head." he reported as he handed her off to the others. 
 "No time to secure her." he said, about her C-spine as she went limp with relief
in his arms at the edge of the hole.

"She was swimming. Pretty good neural ability check if you ask me." Kelly said.

"I'm fine.." said the soaking wet woman. "I tripped and fell getting away." she 
coughed weakily. "Just too tired to move."

DeSoto grabbed both of her wrists and hauled her bodily up. "Easy. Just relax.
We've got you." he said, setting his helmet onto her head.

"Let's go. This way!" said Hallie, wrapping up the woman into Johnny's coat.
Together she and the rest of the firefighters got out of the building with the
last victim from the burning stairwell dangling between their arms.

Outside, silver suited Hazmat immediately descended upon the injured woman
in a swarm.

--------------------------------------------------------------------------

Photo:  Ham Radio scanner and microphone.

Photo:  An airplane and landing field in burning ruins.

Photo:  Two battalion chiefs going over a map at night.

Photo:  Four firefighters trying to force their way into a stairwell.

Photo:  People piled against a door in a smokey stairwell landing.

Photo:  A stairwell floor totally engulfed by an inferno.

Photo:   Roy Desoto in scba, crouched over two victims, by firelight.

Photo:   Johnny Gage rescuing a woman from a water hole under
               wooden debris inside a smokey building.

Photo:   A wounded woman, bleeding from the head.

Photo:   Silver suited hazmat and air bottled crew working triage.

Audio file:   An mp3 morse code recording saying, "RUPTURED MAIN 
                    FUEL LINE. GEYSERING GAS THROUGH THE FLOOR! 
                    AUTOMATIC SHUT OFF SAFEGUARDS HAVE FAILED."
 
*******************************************************
Subject: The Tuna Can..
From: 	patti k (pattik1@hotmail.com)
Sent: 	Sat 11/14/09 3:08 AM

Johnny Gage was through with his hazmat shower and glad to be in a fresh uniform.
"Tetra-ethyl lead, gotta love it." he said to Roy as they hurried over to Cap's
huddle by the command table in IC-2's staging area. "They told me that stuff's 
really toxic after a while."

"Shouldn't have any effect on you. You're already neurally challenged as it is."
DeSoto quipped. 

Next to him, Chet grinned, gladly accepting ease from some of their work stress. 

"Oh, ha ha." Johnny sighed, eyeing up the lines of firefighters waiting for Cap to
begin giving new directions through his megaphone. "At least we know what
we're dealing with now." he said, pointing to the inner lining where blue dye had
stained his turnout jacket. It had been cleaned and hosed down thoroughly,
but the colorization had remained.

"Avgas?" asked both Chet and Roy.

Johnny nodded miserably.
"Subterranean. I got it on me when I got wet going after that woman from the 
stairwell. And she got it on my coat after being wrapped up in it." he smiled, 
glad that she was safe and well. 

"What part do you love about this situation, Johnny? The fact that somebody
spotted the ultimate Old Faithful in fossil slimes spurting up through the 
foundation? Or the fact that we're the lucky ones that have to go traipsing back 
in there to cap it off before it blows us all up sky high?" Kelly asked, 
misinterpretting his expression.

Mike Stoker looked up from a fast sandwich he was eating that came from the 
canteen. "Shouldn't be too bad. Fuel manager says there are cut off valves 
every few hundred feet along the pipeline. A foam turret, robo controlled, 
ought to make it there safely enough to blanket it to prevent it from igniting 
so that the rest of us can move in to fix the leak."

"Glad you're so confident. That won't help the stuff that's still geysering up 
into the air, now would it? That can still burn real fast." Gage said sarcastically, 
still frowning at the turquoise liner that he had inherited from New York's surprise
nightlife. He spun around in place trying to see whether or not the outside canvas 
surface of his jacket was effected as well. 

Roy told him the truth. "You're fine. Doesn't show. Nobody'll notice anyway."

Next to them, Hallie Green bounced on her toes. "Oh, here we go. He's starting."
she murmured excitedly, eyeing up Cap as he looked up from his dry marker 
status board under the fire truck tower lights. She began popping her gum loudly.

"Spunky, isn't she?" Kelly whispered back to Johnny.

"Not my type." Gage growled just as quietly back to him.

"I'm afraid you've got that backwards, gentlemen." Green said, piping up in 
amusement. "Neither of you,.. are mine. I like only non-gossipers for dates." 
she said, folding her hands behind her back to stretch out a few muscles.
"And in that dislike, you both fail." she said flatly.

"Sorry.." said Chet and Gage in stereo, genuinely. "We didn't mean anything 
by--" Gage broke off, clearing his throat. Both firefighters couldn't hide their
discomforture and embarrassment at being overheard. "We were just--"

"...being men." she scowled. Then Hallie let them off the hook and just winked.

Roy rolled his eyes. "Kids.." he chuckled.

"Who says?" All three of them shot back at DeSoto.

A squelch from the megaphone silenced all chatter in the rows of companies.
Hank triggered the loud speaker. ## Attendance is complete. All firefighters have
been accounted for. Listen up! We're gonna tackle this situation as follows...## 
and Cap began to layout the gameplan for each of the crew teams under his wing.

All the paramedics' ears perked up when they heard their group was being
given the middle airplane, the only one not yet in a war between staying on
fire and being put out by foam crews.

##...you are to proceed to that location and determine egress enough to
either verify it free of victims or to extricate the casualties that may be on board.
Truck Nine will assist. ##

They vaguely heard that fully suited scouts were being sent back inside only
in small protected groups, in an attempt locate the gas leak source's exact
whereabouts. But the rest washed into irrelevance because they were moving 
and getting into each of their trucks to start back into their rescue work.

Gage had a thought as they all drove to the safe zone a foam crew had made
around the middle airplane. "Why don't they just scan the thing with heat
sensors and see whether or not anybody's inside?" he said into the paramedic
HT channel at the others overhearing it live.

Hallie spoke up on their private band. ##It's because the radiant heat from
all that nearby fire's hotter than any people are right now. Even after any fire's
been put out. Takes a while for scorched concrete to cool down that far.##

"Huh. Never thought of that." Johnny admitted.

##Well, your captain sure did.## said Green. ##That's why we're being sent 
in there. To find out that fact for ourselves.##  

Hank broke into their channel once the chatter had ended.
## Paramedic team, make sure the plane is still grounded before 
boarding. A mechanic said her cable should still be attached to the grounding 
rod embedded into the runway just beneath the wings of the aircraft under
her fuselage. It's anti-static and very crucial that it remains connected.##

"What happens if it gets severed?" Chet wanted to know.

But Cap had moved off their channel and back onto the main IC.

The three lime fire trucks soon arrived to the site and everyone got off in
a hurry, eager to get started with the job. They all grabbed extrication
gear along with a fresh set of air bottles to wear. 

When the foam crews signalled that things were finally safe to enter, they 
moved in closer. The first thing they did was locate the thin grounding
umbilical tying the aircraft to earth. "It's there!" Chet said, pointing a flashlight.

"Hey!" said Stoker in discovery. "The passenger tunnel's still up." he 
shouted, pointing through the thick falling snow. "Could be another
fast way in that won't involve any cutting."

"Cut anyway." Hallie suggested. "We still need a direct way to get 
people down to the ground."

"Rags and I'll get started." said Stoker.

Marco and Chet offered assistance. "We'll help."

"Roy and I'll try getting in from the building side of the gate!" Gage shouted 
to the others as he and DeSoto climbed up a foam truck ladder to
reach the damaged plane. Johnny ran up its skin nimbly from the tail 
to the nose followed closely by his partner. They stepped quickly across
the roof of the tunnel gate before jumping down into its smokey maw
through the explosion shattered window. They immediately turned their
flashlights on.  "Why didn't anybody try to get out? I'm not seeing
any footprints." he said, pointing to the lightly snow dusted carpetting
of the canvas roof shredded boarding tunnel.

Roy shook his head. "Fumes maybe? Or shock from the explosions?"
he guessed, making sure his air mask was on tight under his helmet.

"It's possible. Anything that damaged concrete like this had enough
force to do a lot of bad. Including concussive collateral through
the skin of an airplane. Eardrum effects alone from a pressure 
change might have stunned them all." Gage decided.

Roy hurried into the darkness, shouting for a response.
"Hey, fire department! Can anybody hear me?!"

Only the sound of dripping water met their ears.

---------------------------------------------------------------------

Photo:  Roy and Johnny approaching with ropes and airbottles.

Photo:  Gage talking with Cap urgently at a scene.

Photo:  A lime green airport fire truck rushing by an infield observation hut.

Photo:   The nose of an airliner crashed through the outer wall of a terminal.

Photo:   Gage running up the spine of a jumbo jet.

Photo:    Roy and Johnny peering in the dark with torches.

Photo:   A long twisted boarding tunnel at an airport.

**************************************************
Subject: Coincidence..
From: 	patti k (pattik1@hotmail.com)
Sent: 	Tue 11/24/09 1:23 PM

 
Roy and Johnny walked carefully through the tunnel and stepped into the 
still docked airplane through its open hatch. "Where is everybody?" DeSoto
asked as they passed through a blue curtain and into stillness. 

Gage shook his head in deja vu. "This disaster scene is a huge one.
We haven't seen all of it yet to know its effects. We should stop asking that
question. I'm starting to get freaked that we can't sniff out people any faster."

The darkness beyond the fire foam covered windows smelled of burned 
insulation. And sweat.

"Somebody's here." Gage said, when he detected the odor of people.
The two paramedics wove their way down the filthy aisle even faster, shining
their flashlights. "Hey! Give us some light!" he shouted at the rescue crews
outside using his radio. A sharp water blasting hose cleaned off half a row of
windows and a bright swathe from a new rescue lamp tower illuminated the 
plane.

Passengers were still in their seats, dazed and throughly zombied. They
looked like waxworks with shiny but whole skin. 

"They're not burned." Johnny sighed in relief as he hurried forward.
Gage hurried to the tail area of the plane to start rapid triage checks
from the opposite end. 

Roy knelt by the nearest and saw only a two hundred yard stare
on the man. His face was peppered with a bright petechiae and blood
was flowing out of his ears. A slumped woman, still holding her briefcase,
showed the same signs.

Roy brought his HT to his mouth urgently. "HT 51-A to IC2. Thirty four
victims! Most with internal concussive blast injuries." 

His eyes swept the plane and noticed ruptured insulation and cracked
glass everywhere, but no damage to the skin of the fuselage. "Must have
been a very large pressure change in here, Johnny."

Gage radioed out more. "Mast trousers! As many as you can get!" he
said as he found pulse after pulse that was only evident weakly 
in carotid arteries.

##10-4, HT 51-A. I've two crews working their way in.## replied Captain Stanley.

Roy found a row of older women seated upright. They started screaming 
when they slowly realized that they could see light again that revealed the
blood splattered on their clothes from tiny glass cuts. "Easy! Don't panic. 
Your eardrums have been damaged and that's why it's quiet. Stay still for
a minute and let me get you free." he said, working to cut their seatbelts
off.  He grunted, reaching over the trio with a seat belt cutter he had pulled
from his pocket. Ripping, the straps parted with loud snaps.

The women clung to one another and fell silent once they found could move
freely. Roy could see their physical pain was only just beginning to be felt
in their faces. "We're gonna get all of you out. Real fast. Just try to relax."

The seniors hollered again when the skin of the airplane was peeled
away by entering arff from a ladder on the roof. Marco and Stoker climbed
in wearing full gear along with cloth stretcher nets.

DeSoto issued an order. "The still ones first. They're all alive. As soon
as you get them out and into the green area, put them into mast suits 
and man their oxygen. Johnny and I will be right out as soon as we make a 
complete sweep for others.  We haven't seen any of the flight crew back 
here."

Gage suggested more. "There's no bone fractures or spinal injuries. Everything's
gonna be internal pulmonary, head and abdominal trauma so load and go. Those
suits and I.V.s are the only things that're gonna help them enough until they
all see a surgery table somewhere. Positive pressure ventilate any who quit 
breathing only lightly." he said, thinking of barotrauma.

Roy and Johnny worked fast, climbing over the seats and looking under them for
small children. They found a single boy who was more bloodied than the rest.
"Marco, the kids are going to be the worst. Take this one and stay with him." said 
DeSoto, carefully lifting the blue shirted child into his arms. "Find out where he's 
bleeding out the fastest and treat him."

"Like he's my own." Lopez said, taking him. "Easy, chico. We're going to help
you right now." he said, wiping blood away from the boy's nose and mouth with
a glove.

The boy was no sooner out of the plane when a new smell filled the crowded cabin.

"I found a fuel leak by the wall!" a safety shouted. "Everybody double time!"

"Oh geez, didn't need to hear that comment." Johnny grunted.

Only one passenger understood the danger. He hugged his dazed wife
closely. "Madeline, you know I'll always love you, no matter what."

She whimpered, her head sagging against his chest as an arff quickly struggled
to cut free, their tangled seatbelts.

Roy and Johnny found the flight crew who managed to convey that there was
no pilot or copilot on board yet. Gage helped one of them to the gash in the
side of the plane the firefighters had made.

Cap's voice came live from the roof of the plane. "Make it fast! This plane's no
longer safe enough!"

There was a mad scramble as passengers suddenly found their legs mindlessly,
obeying only a surge of animal adrenalin. Eagerly, fire crews pulled them out.

Roy and Johnny quickly freed one pinned man from a food cart that had jammed
him against his seat, with a portajack. 

Mike Stoker caught one passenger as he was overcome by shock, grabbing him
before he could fall to the floor and be trampled. "Mister? I'll get you out!" he 
promised, gesturing for a net stretcher with a free arm.

Then he knelt by the skin of the plane and worked with crews to yank out a 
new fast escape hole with a chain and a pair of jaws tools.

In minutes, anyone not on their feet in the front of the plane, had been
evacuated.

"Now let's clear out the tail!" Hank ordered, working fast with a crowbar.

But one by one, the firefighter's air bottles began to sound off low alarms.

DeSoto, Gage and all the others were forced to retreat from the plane to a support
truck to grab fresh sets. As they hurried into new scba, strapping in, they watched
the arff leading people down stairs that had been wheeled close to the escape
hole in the airplane. Roy mourned the loss of the emergency slides, whose hatches
had been warped beyond any possible chance opening by the initial Concorde 
explosion. "This could be working a lot faster if those had been cut open first."

"That would have taken too long. Golden Hour, remember?" Gage said seriously,
gulping down water from a bottle quickly.

Cap called a break a short distance away from the plane to gain some vital information
about the cracked fuel line's location in the airliner. 

"It's around row sixteen, about an inch underneath the floor." reported the safety
to Cap. Roy and Johnny nodded. "There's a pretty big hole there. Looks like one
of the passengers tried to find a way down to the luggage storage hatch with an
axe." Johnny confirmed.

Hank sighed, "I've always said there's no reason for sharp things to be accessible 
by the public in an airplane."

There was a sudden commotion by the landing gear of the plane. A crush of passengers
tripped over a duffle bag being kicked around at their feet and the bag suddenly tumbled
off the stair top. 

Nearby, Sophie looked up, and barked.

Roy DeSoto glanced into that direction urgently as he donned a safety belt.

"No!" Stoker shouted, pointing. He dove for a hose team to knock the falling 
bag away from the antistatic tether, with water, but failed.

The wire snapped in two and parted as the bag landed on it and arches of pure static 
electricity began to sweep the plane from nose to tail. The firefighters at the top leaped 
off of it, grabbing the aerial bucket in desperation as their ladder truck backed them 
hastily away from the suddenly ground charged plane. The stair crew's driver just as 
quickly retreated from the area, taking his arff and victims crowd with him on the 
wheeled stairs.

Every firefighter had fled about sixty feet away when the airplane exploded into a huge
ball of fire. Inside the plane, all the remaining passengers were incinerated in seconds.
The fuel pump station nearest the mooring, also self destructed violently.

Roy and Johnny escaped underneath a protective fan of hose water. But the coolness
did nothing to end the pain of the fire so suddenly seared into their hearts.

Inside the medical clinic, Dr. Joanne Almstedt flinched and froze, shutting her eyes against
the hellish sight that could be seen clearly even through the silver coated windows. She was 
the only one there who knew exactly what had happened.

With a struggle, she returned back to saving the lives of those brought to her.

Outside, Cap began shouting attack commands to try and quell the new larger fire.
Teams of firefighters struggled to obey. 

Nearby, the passengers who had escaped first, turned away and started crying.
A husband and wife embraced in horror.

One by one, more rescuers from the airfield came in to intercept them all.

Johnny spun around in a circle and spotted a little girl, folded up onto
the ground right where she sat in the snow. She was staring at the burning plane.

Rushing up, Sophie the fire dalmatian quickly started licking the child's
shocked face, trying to warm her with kisses. 

Gage immediately scooped the girl up into a blanket and carried her to safety.

Sophie moved on to locate more stragglers who might have been lost
in the panic.

Joe Rorchek's voice came over the wide band. ##A hanger's been made
available near the fire station for any and all black tags. It's been turned into 
a makeshift morgue. Bring those casualties there after you've cleared out 
all the living.## he said softly to the plane crews.  His voice sounded 
very tired and sad.

---------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Photo:  An empty dark plane interior with spent oxygen masks.

Photo:  Roy and Johnny in scba masks on their HT. 

Photo: A smoky, dazed passenger filled plane.

Photo:  Panicking old ladies.

Photo:   A passenger feeling for signs on life on another.

Photo:   Firefighters entering the roof of an airplane.

Photo:  Firefighters evacuating a victim from a hole cut in a plane.

Photo:  Crews carrying out a victim on a net stretcher down a mobile stair.

Photo:  Roy freeing a pinned passenger with a portajack.

Photo:  A concussed sooty passenger in his seat.

Photo:  A masked Gage helping out a walking coughing woman.

Photo:  A dirty, hurt couple, embracing desperately.

Animation: A fire sweeping through a crowded passenger cabin.

Photo:  Joanne Almstedt flinching in horror.

Photo:  Firefighters working to put out a big fire.

Photo:  Sophie, the dalmatian looking up at you.

Photo:  A little girl, injured, sitting dazed on the grass.

**************************************************
Subject: One by One...
From: 	patti k (pattik1@hotmail.com)
Sent: 	Thu 11/26/09 10:06 AM

It was finally dawn.

The sun hadn't been kind as it slowly revealed the chaos that had
ruled the night before. The only fires that remained burning were
the ones deep inside the main airport terminal complex. Plans
were being formulated on how to best tackle the inferno surrounding
the ruptured fuel line that was still glowing there with pure fire. 

Some firefighters were being rotated out for a rest and refresh break.
Among those were MacArthur's own airport firefighters. All, except one. 
Chief Joe Rorchek's youngest son.

Ted Rorchek sighed as he finished his assigned task. ::I've been 
ordered to pick up a visitor from a neighboring airport while my
own burns to the ground. Does this make any sense?:: he asked himself
mentally. :: I suppose it does considering who it is for whom I'm playing 
chauffeur.::  He spotted his quarry, and shouted. "Dr. Brackett!" he hailed.

A tall, denim jacketted man wearing sunglasses turned in the parking lot
to face the red battalion chief's car that was speeding fast towards him. 
He saw the young, fresh faced driver who was a firefighter and waved back.
"Station One?" he said, pulling on a winter parka. 

"Yep. Hop in." said Ted. "I'm taking you to the right flight pad. Morgan
Wainwright's waiting to take you right into our controlled airspace. She's
got the proper authorization. Only emergency vehicles are being allowed
in."

"Choppers included?" Brackett said as he hurried to the passenger side
of the car and slid in. He threw a small suitcase into the back seat.

"Yes, because the weather's improved a lot." Ted said, of the bright sunlight
that was just clearing the horizon. "We can use them now finally for patient
evacuations. I'm Specialist Ted Rorchek. I've been working the scene 
since it happened."

"How bad is it?" Kel asked Ted as he shook his hand in greeting. 

"We've been losing more than we're saving, doctor. The fires have been 
a real vision of h*ll." Ted said tiredly. "Most have died because of fuel 
related explosions and fumes and the fact that planes have crashed down 
onto the airfield."

"How many planes?" Brackett asked, surprised.

"Two. One with survivors. One with none at all. And.....we don't know  
yet how many people have died or still need to be found inside the terminal."

"I'm sorry. I heard about the extent of the situation you guys 
are dealing with and so I pulled some strings to make it out here, fast.
There's a lot I can offer you folks by being an emergency physician, 
surgeon and cardiologist." Kel said, buckling his seatbelt.

"We're glad to have you, doctor. I heard from one of your fire station captains
that you were very used to triage." Ted said. 

"Unfortunately true. California suffers large scale disasters on a very frequent 
basis." Brackett admitted. 

"Mudslides and wildfires?"

"Yeah."

"I've been paying attention." Rorchek said as he accelerated to head towards a 
restricted area of the airport with his lights flashing. "Sir, our own doctor, Joanne 
Almstedt, is up to her eyeballs in victims at the medical evacuation center. Is it 
okay if we take you there before getting you some chow?"

"I wouldn't have it any other way." Kel told him. "I work first, Firefighter Rorchek."

"Please, call me Ted or you're going to get us Rorcheks all mixed up in your
head." Ted grinned.

"Your whole family's into the fire biz?" Kel asked.

"Yep. All at the same station. My dad, Chief Joe Rorchek, he's one of the incident 
commanders on right now. And my brother Chris, a specialist like me with paramedic 
training."

"I'll call on both of your medic skills often if you don't mind."

"Add Hallie Green, she's a paramedic too. I think she's even working with
your Roy DeSoto and Johnny Gage on a team next for another recon into
the fire zone." Ted looked up, "Ah, here we are." he said as he drove the car
next to a hot running red and white fire department chopper. 

Morgan Wainwright, the sheriff's paramedic pilot from the national park was
waiting there, leaning against her bird's windshield. "All set, doc?" she shouted
as Kel Brackett got out of the car and ran to her, head low to avoid blade
danger. Morgan's curly red auburn hair was waving wildly in the wind.

"More than ready!" Brackett replied as he waved thanks to Ted for driving him
to his emergency flight.

"Put this on." she said, handing Brackett a white flyer's jump suit. "It's your
uniform of sorts. Goes over your regular clothes. It has all the authorization
patches and clearance cards you're gonna need."

Ted took off in the red car, adding a siren to his red lights as he hurried back to
the disaster scene at ISLIP a few miles away.

Soon, Morgan and Brackett were in the air and hovering over MacArthur Airport
just short minutes later.

"Oh my." Kel whispered as he looked down through the observation glass at
his feet at the scene. He beheld what was almost a moonscape of carbon black 
craters and smouldering ruin. Rows of corpses lay stretched and covered on 
canvas stretchers on the ground near a runway, awaiting a move into a hanger 
morgue. Of the airport terminal, only a shell remained in its very center that was 
surrounding a tall geyser of fire riding up on a plume of pressurized fuel that was 
spurting into the sky. To one side, three sooty skeletons of powdered airplane 
remains stained the concrete tarmack as they oozed up through a thick layer of 
fire foam. He spoke up into his helmet mic as he took off his sunglasses. "Ted 
Rorchek wasn't exaggerating in the slightest." 

"No, sir." replied Morgan, swiftly winging over to Helipad One by the medical
center. It was still downwind of the stinging smoke and toxic fumes. "But we've
managed to rescue about a hundred and eighty people so far. Some from a 
business jet, others from a restaurant and its stairway, one from the control tower,
a few from outbuildings, and two dozen from that middle airplane. I've really been 
listening to all of their radio transmissions."

"More to come in and out by air?"

"I promise you that personally, Dr. Brackett." Morgan said, her face filled 
with conviction.

----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Dr. Brackett stepped out of Morgan's chopper. "Thank you, Pilot Wainwright."

"My pleasure, doc." she said, closing both their hatch doors. Then she rushed
off to see about refueling her bird.

An ambulance pulled up and a helicopter paramedic leaned out the driver's 
window. "I'm Steven Beck. I'm giving you a ride. The only way in's through
a basement garage ramp."

Kel jumped in and belted up once more. Soon, they had arrived. Kel finally met
the woman in charge. "Joanne Almstedt?"

"Kel Brackett." she grinned tiredly, taking his hand as she kept one eye on
the bustling triage activity surrounding them. "Thanks for coming. I didn't know
my broadcasted calls for help had this kind of pull." she said, indicating him.

"I've an invested interest in a couple of paramedics working as guest firefighters
here. Where they go, sometimes I follow." he shrugged with humor.

"Spoken like a mother hen."

"More like a rooster in my case." Kel smiled. "Show me what you have and I'll 
get started."

"Uh, first things first. Here." said Steven Beck, thrusting a navy knapsack at Kel.

"What's this?" Brackett said, hefting it up onto his shoulder.

"Food and water. Keep it yours." Beck chided. "Can't guarantee you'll
be able to get to the R and R tents out on the infield even later on."

"Appreciate it." Brackett said sincerely.

"Well, I'd better get back to the green zone. Just heard more patients 
are needing a trip in." Steven said, holding up his radio. "Oh, doc." he
said, eyeing up Joanne. "If it gets any hairy-er, we'll need one of you
for invasive procedures outside."

"I'll go. Just say when, Steve." Joanne replied.

Beck nodded and hurried back to his ambulance.

Sighing expansively, Joanne leaned against a garage pillar for
a short stolen breather. She was startled when she saw a juice box 
and a box of cheese thrust insistently into her hands.

"My first orders. Eat, doctor." Kel told her. "And don't tell me you
haven't had time yet."

Joanne made a face.

"That's his line, ma'am.." said an approaching voice. It was Johnny
Gage, still wearing sooty turnout and an air bottle. There was a spot
of blood on his face. "I suggest you let him have it." he grinned.

Roy DeSoto nodded next to him. "So true."

"Boys." Brackett grinned hugely as all four of them headed for
the table that held charts on the most critical victims who still needed
examinations and treatments. "Good to see you."

"Doc, what are you doing here?" Gage asked, happy at the surprise.

Kel slapped his arm. "Can't let you handle it all. Dixie was very upset 
with me. She was steamed that she wasn't authorized to fly out here 
herself so she told me to come and bail your butts. Exact quote."

Gage grunted in amusement, shaking his head.

DeSoto was all serious as he turned to Joanne. "There's a case over
here that needs your attention. A neonate. It's over our heads."

"Show us both." Almstedt told him.

Eagerly, Kel and Joanne followed the L.A. County paramedics back
to a place on the floor amid the sea of casualties awaiting care on
neat, yellow tarps.

"He was born a few minutes ago." DeSoto reported. "Pulse 130,
respirations a little fast, Apgar of 8. He's no longer so vigorous as he
was when we first delivered him." 

Kel and Joanne knelt down and noted the oxygen mask that
a nurse was holding over the infant's face as they gloved up.

"Keep rubbing him dry, Roy. I'll have listen." Kel said, snatching the 
stethoscope from around Roy's neck quickly. A few seconds later he 
looked up. "A murmur. Sounds like a major congenital valve S4. He's 
not getting enough blood to all of his systems. That's probably why he 
was so limp off oxygen. I want an EKG established immediately with a 
central subclavian line. Can we book him a fast flight to a neonate thoracic 
surgeon?" he asked Gage. 

"Your wish is my command." said Johnny, grinning, relieved.  He got busy 
on the airwaves.

The baby's mother lay wearily on her burn sheet package pillow
as Joanne examined her carefully. "How's he doing? ... My baby, can you 
help him?" she sobbed.

"Yes." said Joanne. "He's in good hands. Just relax and keep taking
in deep breaths. You still have to deliver that placenta for us." she
said, feeling the mother's labor cramps starting in again. "We'll let
you hold him in a few minutes."

Kel looked up at Roy. "Go ahead and cut the cord. All the blood has
transferred okay." he said, feeling the lack of a pulse in it.

"Right." DeSoto got to work with ties, a pair of scissors and a new set 
of gloves. 

Johnny looked up from his radio. "Morgan's all set. She says that's
number one, whatever that means."

Kel smiled. "She's keeping track of a promise made to me."

"That's my girl.." Johnny chuckled, moving on to the next patient.

Dr. Brackett raised both eyebrows but didn't say anything much, aloud.
He just pursed his lips in amusement.

But then the seriousness of their situation and the number of 
victims still yet to be seen, wiped the mirth away from all four of them.

They slipped into rapid autopilot, moving down the rows.

Chris Rorchek looked up from a boy he was suctioning. "I need a doc
over here. This boy's starting to posture." The LMA he had inserted
was only just keeping a viable airway open on the child.

Joanne rose to aid him. "Head injury?"

"No, that's what's so puzzling." Chris told her.

"What have you found?" she asked him.

"Bruising on the stomach, no guarding. Lungs are clear.
No cerebral spinal fluid out anywhere. Rapid heartbeat
as you see, showing V-tach on the monitor. Respirations
slow."

Joanne lifted her gloves. "Whew.. he's hot. Was he in a fire?"

"Nuh uh. He was one of the plane people they got out first.
No smoke they told me. Just probable sound wave concussive 
injuries from the Concorde's impact."

"Hmmm. Might be a preexisting or escalating condition causing this
fever. That would explain a lot. Isolate him into the quarantine area
with their staff." 

"Okay." Chris said, waving at one of the nurses by the information 
table over to set that up. "Want anything given past this normal saline 
I.V.?" Rorchek said, placing the bag under one of the boy's shoulders.

"No, not for now. We're only first line of care. Our job is to stabilize
after fixing any life threats. He'll hold until he reaches another doc off 
the airport." Dr. Almstedt said. "Once the nurse gets here to handle 
him, tackle the next patient after disinfecting yourself for safety."

"Yes, ma'am." 

Joanne looked up to see Steven Beck busy at work loading treated
patients into his ambulance for the trip to Stony Brook Medical Center.
He caught her eye and shared some information. "There's an alternative 
treatment area being set up in Holbrook Park."

"How can folks get there from here?" Almstedt asked to file away for
later. "I don't know where any damage is out there except what I've
seen." she said heavily, remembering the exploding plane.

Beck didn't miss a beat.
"Take Furrows to Patchogue Rd/Main St. to Broadway Avenue. Once
past the Patchogue exit, follow the Holbrook Road out to 495. We're
setting up at the park end next to the football stadium in the parking lot."
Beck told her. "There's a big building there we're taking over."

"Will I be asked there if I go?"

"Yes. The infield's no longer safe because of a burning pipeline."

Joanne sighed. "When will it end?" she murmured to herself, mutely
returning a wave at his farewell nod.

Dr. Brackett looked up from the man he and Johnny Gage were
treating who was suffering from acute smoke inhalation. "Johnny,
listen to his chest once more. I don't believe he's out of the woods yet
in spite of the fact that we got him breathing again. I want to know if any 
superheated air got inside. Rales and pulmonary edema might mean
we'll have to rapid sequence intubate him to prevent tracheal adhesion. 
Let me know if you hear and see any signs of soot or burns in his airway."

Right then, the oxygen masked man awakened, struggling to breathe 
with suddenly flailing arms and legs. He was choking with pain as he
tried to grab for his throat.

Kel shouted.
"He is burned! Sedate him with 20 mg etomidate I.V. I'll follow up
with a paralytic for that RSI asap." he said, waving over some firefighters
to help hold the man down. Only sitting on the man's arm kept the already in 
place I.V. catheter from being ripped out. Soon, the sedative returned the 
man to a protective unconsciousness. "Ready with an endotracheal tube?"

"I've got him sized." Johnny reported, holding up one as he tore open its
packaging. "Succinylcholine as the paralytic?"

"Yeah. 1.5 mg/kg IVP. Then preoxygenate him for three with a bag. If we don't 
get him tubed in thirty seconds find somebody to keep up that ambu until 
he snaps out of it. I'm only going to try this once." Brackett said, his face
twitching in concentration.

Nearby, Roy stopped at the side of a yellow triage tagged teenager, who
seemed to be unconscious. Kneeling, he felt for a pulse. Finding none, he
checked her eyes. She had dilated pupils. ::Been hypoxic for too long.:: he
realized. ::We've lost another one. There are just too many to see fast enough.:: 
he mourned. Reaching down, he tore her tag from yellow to black swiftly. Wiping
away emotion watery eyes, Roy rose.  

Without looking back, DeSoto headed for another red tag who didn't yet
have a nurse or doctor care-given clipboard lying on their stomach and got to work.

-----------------------------------------------------------------

Photo:  Ted Rorchek getting out of a red Battalion Chief's car.

Photo:  Dr. Brackett wearing sunglasses in a sunny parking lot near a red car.

Photo:   Morgan Wainwright near her Sheriff's Department rescue chopper.

Photo:   Brackett unfolding sunglasses inside of a rescue chopper.

Photo:  Flight paramedic Steven Beck standing next to an ambulance.

Photo:  Rows of sheet covered dead on stretchers at night. 

Photo:   A chopper overflying a roof on fire.

Photo:  Joanne Almstedt in scrubs, smiling.

Photo:   A newborn baby being ventilated by oxygen mask.

Photo:   Dr. Brackett in a blue flight suit in close up.

Photo:   A bloody yellow triage tagged teenager's face. 

**************************************************
Subject:  Circle Of Flame.. 
From: 	patti k (pattik1@hotmail.com)
Sent: 	Sun 11/29/09 11:33 AM

Ted Rorchek was ever so glad to be back at the scene. He made
headway over to the situation table where he saw Al Martelli and Greg
Hicks making a noisy case for a hypothetical.

Martelli shouted. "What do you mean there's nobody left to go searching?!
I'm telling you, we've got a man trapped near ticketting. A security supervisor!
He's also the one who warned us all about that g*dd*mned AVgas leak! He
probably saved hundreds of lives in doing so. Doesn't that amount to anything?!"

Greg was calmer. "Sir," he addressed the lieutenant from Holbrook facing them
who was assigned logistics and supplies. "It's true. We ARE available. Chief
Rorchek pulled us from the station personally to take an active assignment along
with the others not half an hour ago, but we're more than done now. We were
posted at the middle plane, and there's no way in h*ll you don't know how that
turned out."

The lieutenant winced and frowned but held firm. "This is why I can't let you guys
go back in. And this is straight from the book. You've no safety with you to watch
both of your *sses."

"They do now." said a voice from behind them. It was Ted Rorchek. "I'm
fresh back from Brookhaven Airport. I was picking up that doctor from California."

The lieutenant threw up his hands. "Okay! All right!" he said sarcastically.
"I guess protocol's satisfied then. Go ahead and go." But then he whipped
out a warning finger. "But not until every one of you hands me an accountibility
tag first." he warned. "The chief's gonna wanna know exactly who went back in,
and a why."

Three metal tags were unsnapped from turnout jackets and slammed firmly
down on the table in a neat row.

Al started beaming. "You won't regret this, bro. If you doubt that there's
still a proven victim in there, just listen to our ham radio logs from an hour
ago from the dispatcher. You'll hear we were cut off in mid morse."

Ted, Al and Greg went running for their idling fire truck after waving down
a just refilled and breakfast fed foam crew company to follow them.

The lieutenant watched them go. "I honestly hope you find him." he said softly
to himself.  Then he turned back to his pile of note scribbled headaches. Sighing,
he refocused on the worst of the supply problems still facing him, where to find
more ambulances to move all of their half treated victims out of their old but newly
classified as dangerous green area, the quickest way possible to Holbrook Park,
the new safe zone, a half mile away.

-----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Hallie Green and Chris Rorchek, along with Marco Lopez and Mike Stoker,
were the third assigned team getting ready to make an attempt at a valve shut
off upstream of the ruptured flaming pipe crater that was slowly reducing a fifty
foot round area of the airport's floor, to slag.

"Summer's returned with a vengeance." Green commented, fit testing her
faceplate. She could feel the heat from the fuel fire from their position three
hundred feet away. The ground in between was absolutely dry and snow free
and some parts of the concrete tarmack steamed in the daylight from underground
chimneys where the pavement had already cracked from heat stresses.

"Not quite the same." said Marco. "I don't see any palm trees waving in the gentle
breezes over there."

Mike joked. "Squint a little. Kinda looks like the beach at sunset."

"Maybe in July." Lopez said, grinning right back in his scba.

Hallie Green turned to Chris as all four slowly advanced towards a substation hut
by the fire with their pair of hoses on wide fan for some cooling protection. "So how's
triage going at the medical center?" Green asked.

"Slowly. A lot of cases moving through aren't even directly related to fire or any of
the crashes. I saw DeSoto and Gage working a birth, and I had an infectious case of
some kind."

"Oooo, what?"

"Maybe meningitis. He had the rash and the symptomology almost point for point."

"How old?"

"Oh, eight or so." Chris replied.

"He'll make it." Green told him. "Somebody has to. We've lost enough today." Hallie
said as if her statement made fact happen.

Chris grinned. "Hear, hear." he agreed.

Soon, they were close enough for tools.

A quick lock snipper cut the padlock over the latch but the door soon showed
itself as heat warped and jammed. Over the roar of the fire to their right, Chris
and Stoker grabbed out halligans to try and force the metal door's hinges off.
Hallie and Marco kept their joined fanning spray arches directed over the fire
radiant geyser, deflecting its killer heat away from themselves.

Glowing red hot metal groaned, but didn't give way to heavily applied crowbars.

Mike grunted. "I wish... I had...a Hurst tool right now.." he strained as he and Chris
threw their backs into the door, side by side and shoulder to shoulder, gripping
their bars with their thick thermal gloves.

"Why? And ruin a good workout?" Rorchek grimaced. "Aren't you having any fun
yet?"

"No.." Mike gasped through his mask.

Suddenly, there was an explosion from the geyser when it surged into regrowth.
The four firefighters were forced to hide in the hut's meager outline shadow for
protection.

But paint even on the shadowed side of the sizzling metal shingling before them,
started to flake off and burn.

"Retreat!" Rorchek shouted to all of them. "It's too hot now! We gotta find another
valve we can get to more easily."

Rushing backwards, still in a double fanning hose attack, Hallie, Chris, Marco and Stoker
got out of there.

Once at the snowline, Stoker lifted his HT as he pulled off his smoking rubber mask.
"HT-1A to IC2. The east hut's just become inaccessible!"

##10-4. Try the one in ticketting. One of the other teams says there's a partial wall
still standing between that valve access closet and the fire.## said Stanley.

"Roger. Heading over there." Mike told Cap.

------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Al Martelli and Greg Hicks picked up their pace as they reentered the silent,
dark airport terminal. They were a long distance away, but they could still
hear the steaming loud hiss of the burning fuel line geyser at the other end of the
concourse. "This feels d*mned good. There's nothing like the freedom of a
search and rescue team." Martelli exclaimed. "Ticketting's this way. The
security office is just around the corner."

Ted Rorchek called another halt as he checked and rechecked the ceilings, floors,
surrounding walls and their air bottles, for problems. "Yeah, but we're getting
there in one piece all right? Slow down."

Greg Hicks nodded. "You're right. We're acting like rookies, rushing in."

"But I have to know if he's all right." Al insisted.

"We'll find out soon enough. He's not going anywhere." Ted told his crewmate.
"Now turn around. I want to check your regulator again. The gas sniffer says
the air's breathable in here, but still a little toxic even though the roof's collapsed."

Martelli huffed under his breath but obeyed the youngest Rorchek.

Nearby, the conveyor belt panel under a ticketting counter was kicked out with a
tiny foot. "Help!" cried a voice. "I can't get out. The suitcases fell on top of me."

Al whirled in his tracks. "Is that a kid?!"

Greg said, "Yeah, I think it came from over there." he said.

All three of them redirected flashlights and saw a pair of flailing legs, stomach
down.

They hurried over and flipped up the counter's access section. Crawling in,
they began throwing toppled suitcase after suitcase off of the conveyor belt,
getting to the pile they saw lying on top of a little boy. "Easy kid! Don't move.
We're getting you out!"

The kicking stopped.

Ted shouted. "What's your name?"

"Danny! *cough* *cough*."

"Are you hurt?"

"No... I can't breathe! They're falling!" Then he screamed, the sound abruptly
cutting off.

The firefighters began uncovering debris and roofing sections even faster.
Greg shouted. "Danny?! Keep talking to us!"

There was no reply. Rorchek dove into the hole and crawled forward onto
the belt as Greg and Al continued to unbury and toss away fallen suitcases,
exposing an open route.

Ted's flashlight finally found the silhouette of a body in the smoke.
He scooted forward on his belly and quickly, he reached up an arm and pulled
the limp boy towards his chest and out from under a large heavy box. Danny
wasn't moving or breathing where he lay face down.

Pressing a resuscitator mask attached to his air bottle to the boy's face, Ted
thumb triggered a few short manual breaths after securing an open airway.
"Danny? Can you hear me? Start breathing again. Guys, get in here! He's in
respiratory trouble."

Al squeezed into the space with Ted. "How long down?"

"Just now." Ted replied, keeping the resuscitator mask sealed
tightly over the boy's face while he pressed button regulated 
air into his lungs.

Martelli reached for the boy's neck. "He's still got a pulse. Give
him a few more shots. His color's not that bad yet."

Ted complied, holding Danny's head firm as he made sure he
was getting chest rise. Then a few of the boy's fingers twitched
and he started coughing.

"There you go. Take another breath." Rorchek encouraged. "Breathe
this in."

Weakily, Danny tried to push the air regulator from his face as he
started to panic at feeling his nose and mouth covered up.

"Easy, just relax. You need this. Suck it in! If you can't yet, I'll be right here 
to help you." Ted told him. "Just try and keep awake for us, okay?"

Danny groaned and opened his eyes. "I-I ...*gasp* I can't find Mom and Dad."
he whispered, out of breath. "Last I remember, we were in the restaurant."

Al and Ted both looked at each other. Then Martelli got close to the boy.
"People will look for them, Danny, I promise. But first we need to get you
someplace safe and to a doctor. You took in a lot of smoke."

Outside behind the counter, Greg hollered. "Got to move! The fuel's burning
brighter down there. Just started happening."

"Okay, we'll get Danny out to triage, and then we'll circle around the other way
to the security office." Martelli agreed.

"Let's go." Ted Rorchek said, gathering up Danny into his arms.
The boy's eyes were unfocused slits again. "He's not doing so well."

Al Martelli gave one last longing look down the glowing hallway that led to the
security wing, but then he raised his HT to his lips. "HT-1B to IC2. We found a
semi-conscious male pediatric victim. Severe smoke inhalation. Respond another 
paramedic team with full resuscitation gear to the yellow zone nearest our 
entry point."

##10-4.## replied Captain Stanley. ##Contacting the medical center now.##

-----------------------------------------------------------

Photo: Hicks, Martelli and Ted Rorchek receiving orders
            at a situation table from a white helmeted lieutenant.

Photo: Marco Lopez running with a backboard.

Photo: Firefighters digging under debris.

Photo:  Hose water entering a hot fire at night.

Photo:  A luggage claim conveyor belt carousel.

Photo:  Firefighters testing a doorway with air masks on.

Photo:  A boy lying unconscious inside of a conveyor tunnel.

Photo:  An airmasked Ted ventilating a boy with a positive pressure 
             valve.

Photo:  Two firefighters discussing escape with a victim in fire glow.

**************************************************
Subject: Life On The Line.. 
From: patti k (pattik1@hotmail.com)  
Sent: Mon 11/30/09 12:18 AM 

Ted Rorchek ran for the open air and the relative safety of the airport 
tarmack apron, carrying his tiny living burden. Greg Hicks and Al Martelli were
close behind, only breaking off for a few moments to flag down a passing
fire engine to accost their oxygen apparatus and airway kit. 

That crew volunteered a wool blanket as well before continuing on their
way to go off duty for a food and rest break and a fresh top off of fuel, 
water and foam.

Ted Rorchek peeled out of his air bottle just as its low air warning
began to sound. Frustrated, he threw away the secondary 
air mask he was using to protect Danny's lungs.

Chief Joe Rorchek knelt by the boy Ted had just leaned into
a sitting up position against his knees. "This the lad you reported?"

"Yeah, dad." said Ted. "Name's Danny. Don't know the last." 

"Hmmm. Danny.. do you know where you are?" asked Joe, his breath
steaming in the chilly daylight as he attempted to get a new status.

The boy just articulated nonsensical sounds and he only coughed weakly
when tapped lightly.

Greg Hicks wrapped him up snugly into the warm blanket.
"He's pretty out of it. Might be hypoxia working on him." Greg
suggested. "Ted said a fallen box almost suffocated him."

"There were only a few fumes from the area near the pipe fire." Al shared, 
handing the chief the case he and Greg had pilfered which contained oxygen 
gear. "But that's not saying much if he was stuck in there for a long time."

"Was the heat real bad?" the Chief asked as he strung out 
the resuscitator mask and turned on the oxygen flow from the tank.

"No. It was pretty cool from a hole in the roof." Ted said, loosening 
the boy's shirt more away from his throat. "Let's keep him upright. It'll
help him breathe a little better."

Greg Hicks shared more history. "He respiratory arrested on us for 
about half a minute, Chief." he said, searching the boy's pants 
for I.D. "Nothing's here. His pockets are empty."

Danny moaned, only half awake, twitching in his arms and legs.
 
The blue shirted boy's head lulled around in a daze, so Ted and Joe 
set the new mask against the child's face with a couple of palms
to maintain a tight enough fit to deliver as close to one hundred percent 
O2 as they could manage. 

The ragdoll spasming continued.

"Danny?" Joe shared. "You're outside and safe. This is oxygen. 
Breathe deeply so it can clear out your chest. Can you understand me?" 

But Danny didn't reply. His limbs fell still. And his lips began to suddenly
turn chalk as a cold sheen of sweat peppered his face.

"Ah, he's going out. Set him flat. Something's wrong." the airport
paramedic worried. Quickly, Al did as Ted bid and lay Danny down. 
Martelli tilted back his head for a listen, and laid a hand on the boy's chest
to feel for movement. "D*mn. He's quit again."

"Pulse?" Ted asked, grabbing an oropharyngeal airway from the pack.

"There. But it's very irregular. " Al confirmed as he started to ventilate
the boy gently using the demand valve resuscitator. "Just like the last 
time."
 
Joe Rorchek rose to his feet and got on the radio. "IC1 to IC2, where
are those paramedics for the male minor on Tarmack Three? Condition
is going critical."

##IC2 to IC1, their E.TA. is two minutes. Code Three.## replied Captain 
Stanley. ## I'm on my way over there myself with a peds AED from a doctor. 
Everybody else is tied up.##

"Best speed possible, then better, captain." Joe transmitted.

##Understood. My pedal's in China.## Hank replied.

"What's he at?" Ted ordered, after he had gotten a short breathing tube 
placed over the boy's tongue.

"Around 120-130 best guess." Hicks said. "At the carotid only."

"Sinus tachycardia? Shock with a dropping B.P.? This has gotta be more
than just smoke inhalation."

Al was honest. "Whatever it is, it's not being nice at all." he exclaimed in 
frustration.

Ted mumbled. "I wish I had my med kit with me or even just an EKG monitor."

"All of that's on the way, son." Joe said, placing a hand on Ted's shoulder.
"Any chance this might be a chemical poisoning?" the chief wondered.

"Whoa!"
Beside them, Hicks startled. "It's gone. I-I just lost it." he said, shifted 
suddenly from his crouched toes to his knees as he refumbled for a correct
groping grip on Danny's neck.

"You sure?" Al asked Greg, not stopping his mechanical ventilations.

Ted waved an attention gesture. "Martelli, hold off a second." 

Al froze his trigger fingers, and his whole body.

Ted quickly lowered his head to the boy's chest.  "That's odd. I'm hearing a 
very rapid heartbeat." he said in puzzlement, with an ear to Danny's skin.

"Yeah? Well, I'm not feeling one!" Greg insisted.

Ted tightened his lips and immediately placed fast palms over Danny's 
chest and started aggressive CPR. "Pulseless V-Tach then. Explains a lot. 
Dad, we got real trouble here. This boy's gonna die if we don't see some 
cardiac drugs or a defib inside the next minute and a half."

-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Photo:  Ted Rorchek in a yellow and red fire helmet, closeup.

Photo:   Chief Joe Rorchek ventilating a seated boy with a resuscitator.

Photo:   Chief Joe Rorchek, closeup in a white helmet.

Photo:  Johnny Gage in full scba, running fast.

Photo:   Ted and Al Martelli doing CPR on a boy with a resuscitator.

Photo:   A red AED in a cabinet. 
 
**************************************************
Subject : Code
From: 	patti k (pattik1@hotmail.com)
Sent: 	Mon 11/30/09 1:26 PM

Al glanced up. "Hyperventilation?"

"Flood him." Ted grunted as he continued to deliver chest compressions.
 "No such thing as too much oxygen for him any more."

Greg Hicks felt for the boy's pulse point in his neck. "I'm getting a good pulse
with those compressions, Ted."

"Okay." Rorchek stated, concentrating on pressing down evenly and regular,
but fast. "Keeping it at one hundred a minute. Any cyanosis?"

Martelli peeled back Danny's lip in between breaths. "Nope, none."

Ted sighed. "Good. He's not gonna be acidotic at all."

A yellow fire engine barrelled down and squealed to a halt next to Joe's
red flashing lit battalion car. Captain Stanley leaped out of the passenger
cab with a soft shelled red case, the AED. He ran to the others' sides
and immediately, he and Joe began cutting away the rest of Danny's shirt.

"Joanne says this one's fresh. It wasn't used today yet." Stanley shouted.

Hank turned on the unit as he and Joe strung and connected the wires to
the unit. Then they peeled the protector paper off of the two electrode pads. 
One Joe placed on the right side of Danny's chest, the other, Hank stuck onto 
the boy's back below a shoulder blade by slipping a fast hand underneath him.

"Okay, everybody clear. Let it analyze." Joe ordered. Al lifted away the resuscitator
and Ted stopped compressions.  ##Do not touch patient. Analyzing rhythm.## 
Seconds crawled by like eons when it finally sounded a message. 
##Shock advised.## the AED's module declared. ##Stand clear of patient.## 

"Yep. Pulseless V-tach around 163. See that?" he said pointing
to the digital display in green showing on the AED's small window. "This first shock
will be 2 joules/kg." Ted told them all. "Don't touch him until after it analyzes and gives
him a shock, if it needs to, a third time."

A strong jolt coursed through Danny's limbs softly. ##Shocked delivered.## the AED said. 
##Do not touch patient. Analyzing rhythm.## 

"Come on." Ted urged when the boy didn't convert afterwards. "All right, 4 joules/kg.
Double strength."

##Shock advised.## it said, still displaying the deadly dysrhythmia on its screen.
##Stand clear of patient.## A second spasm wracked Danny's body, then it relaxed 
again into stillness. ##Shock delivered.##

"Nothing yet." Hank said, watching Danny closely. "No reaction."

##Do not touch patient. Analyzing rhythm.## the machine stated a third time. 

Ted studied its screen. "He's slipping a bit. It's coarse v-fib now."

##Shock advised. Stand clear of patient.## 

All five firefighters held their breaths. Again a surge of electricity jolted Danny.

##Shock delivered. Check patient. Check breathing. Check pulse. If no
pulse, resume CPR.## the AED transmitted.

Al and Greg examined Danny swiftly. "It didn't work. Still nothing."

"Start CPR." Joe told them as Ted started compressions once more.

Hank said, "Joanne told me this one will automatically reanalyze again after two
minutes of CPR." he said, pointing to the AED lying open in its case.

"All right." Ted nodded. "Take over?" he said to Cap.

"Yep." and Hank started in after knocking Ted's hands away neatly.
"Just so you all know, every red tag's been seen. That's why we're
being allowed to work this boy. Triage restrictions have officially been lifted.
Dr. Brackett's orders."

Ted shook his head where he was maintaining a Sellick's hold
below Danny's adam's apple to prevent distention and chance vomiting 
from Al's ventilations. "Wish I could talk to the man."

"You can." Joe said, pulling out an HT and switching channels. "IC1 to
Triage2. Respond on this frequency. This is an emergency communication."

##This is Dr. Brackett..##

Ted smiled, reaching for the handy talkie eagerly with his free hand.
"Doc, boy am I glad to hear you." he began.

Right then, a red rescue squad bearing the logo of the airport hurried
across a runway full tilt, avoiding still smoldering piles of debris. Behind
her, ran Sophie the fire dog. The lights and sirens cut off when they
reached the scene.

Roy DeSoto and Johnny Gage rushed out, grabbing every piece of
airport fire station medical gear they could find from the vehicle's
storage holds. They ran to the boy.

"What happened?" Johnny asked.

Ted told him. "At first, smoke inhalation. But now an unknown cause.
Initially pulseless V-tach, now showing V-Fib. Three shocks unsuccessful.
He was a witnessed arrest. Never lost oxygenation. Found near the 
restaurant."

"How long has he been down?" Roy asked.

"Four minutes, twenty eight seconds." Al replied, still watching the timer
on the watch he had started.

"Keep hyperventilating him." Johnny ordered Martelli. "We're going
to tube him next for medications."

Roy was already preparing the intubation gear. "He's about eight years
old, Johnny. I'm going with a 6.0 cuffed French." he said bending 
a stylet into a curving shape. "In case he ate dinner last night."

Gage nodded, tearing open a lubricant pack with his teeth. He
tossed an empty syringe to Greg. "Draw up ten cc's air into that."
he requested.

Roy tore off a long piece of tape and stuck it onto his leg. Then 
he assembled and locked a curved blade the right size onto a 
laryngoscope.

Johnny took the ET tube Roy had laid out on Danny's stomach
and tested the bulb on the end by inflating and deflating it with Greg's
syringe to check for leaks. There were none. He left the phalange
dangling off the airway's tubing.

Roy threaded the stylet down the lubricated ET tube part way and
bend off the tip at the top so it wouldn't fall down further.

He nodded at Al. "Any head or neck trauma?" 

"No.." everybody said. "He fainted."

"Hyperventilate him more." Gage told Al.

Martelli did for a minute while Cap's CPR still went on.
Then both backed off to give Roy and Johnny room to work.

Roy tipped back Danny's head and opened his mouth with
a few crossed fingers. Then he removed the oral airway neatly
while Ted still maintained the cricoid pressure hold. 

He used the blade of the scope to sweep away Danny's tongue
to the side with his left hand and threaded down the ET tube
and stylet to just below Danny's vocal cords with his right. "I'm in." 
Roy said, throwing away the blade and handle and guiding stylet wire. 
He held the tube firmly with both hands so it couldn't move. "Al?"

Al reattached a bag valve mask on high flow to the top of the tube's
port and gave the boy a few breaths.

Gage threw on a stethoscope and began listening at all points on
Danny's chest for breath sounds. "You're in the right bronchial tree, 
Roy." he frowned. "Pull up a bit."

Roy started withdrawing the tube slightly, centimeter by centimeter,
waiting for Johnny's word.

"Okay, stop. Right there. Breath sounds equal and clear on both sides. 
Tape it off. Start in on CPR again, guys, we're set."

Hank began his one handed compressions once more. 

Roy announced a finding. "He's at 15 cm." he said, taping off
the tube so it couldn't slip up or down with the piece of tape he
wrapped around its end port and the back of Danny's head 
and neck.  

Ted let go of the Sellick's maneuver, sighing in relief.
"Doc, that's about as much as we know so far. He's just
been ET intubated." he transmitted over radio.

The AED began to cycle once more in analysis. While it
was doing so, with another halt in CPR, Johnny accepted the
HT Ted handed to him. 

##51, I've been told your victim's still in a shockable rhythm, 
administer 0.1 mg/kg of 1:1,000 Epinephrine solution followed by 
10 ml Normal Saline wash by ET. Skip attempting any intravenous 
access. That'll just waste time. I'm also passing on using sodium 
bicarbonate. That'll only neutralize his epi on us. It's probably 
unnecessary as he's been given CPR since the onset. Shock 
him one more time and get back to me.## ordered Brackett.

"10-4, Triage 2. Administer 0.1 mg/kg of 1:1,000 Epinephrine with 
a 10 ml NS bolus ET. Then shock 4 joules/kp times one." Gage 
reaffirmed.

##Standing by.##

Roy checked his glass ampoule of medication for its amount and identity.
It was clear in color still and way before its expiration date. "Concentration
1/1,000." he called out to Johnny.

Gage handed Roy a 20cc syringe fitted with a sterile 21 gauge needle
and uncapped it.  

Quickly, Roy drew up the epinephrine and saline and shot it quickly
down the endotracheal tube that Al had already detached from his
ambu bag. "Okay, vent him twice, fast, to aerosolize that med." DeSoto
told him as he threw away the spent syringe and needle into a sharps
bin. 

Johnny wrote down everything they were doing and time stamped each
step onto a rescue clipboard before he handed it over to Ted to add 
his own care notes. 

##Shock advised. Stand clear of patient.## the AED droned.

Danny jumped a little higher this time. But the display screen still showed
coarse ventricular fibrillation. 

"Start in again, guys." Roy sighed.

Al and Cap continued CPR.

"Doc, no conversion." Johnny shared with Dr. Brackett over the handy talkie.

##Give him Lidocaine 1 mg/kg ET. And defibrillate. If that doesn't work,
repeat with a second and any then subsequent doses of epinephrine ET
at 0.1 mg/kg of 1:1,000 solution. Do CPR for a minute. Then give a shock. 
If no conversion, use Lidocaine again, at the same dose up to three doses, 
every twelve minutes. The pattern will be shock/med/CPR for 60/shock/med/
CPR for 60,..until you reach both your medications' maximum dosages. 
Repeat the epi every 3 to 5 minutes. Bring him in as soon as you can, 
51. Maintain that CPR if he stays pulseless or if the AED doesn't indicate
a shockable rhythm and you still can't detect a palpable heartbeat. We'll work 
with additional meds once he gets here after a full leads ekg reading so
we can better see what's going on with his conductivity.## 
 
"10-4, doc. We're on it." said Johnny, passing the HT to Greg.

They set to work with a vengeance as the sun climbed higher and clearer
in the cold winter sky.

Its beauty in the heavens went unnoticed amid the scene of a H*ll on Earth 
by the rescue team surrounding the boy.

---------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Photo:   Roy and Johnny performing child CPR in front of a burning building.

Animation:  An AED EKG window displaying a pulseless V-tach cardiac rhythm.

Photo:  Roy air purging a bolus of Normal Saline. 

Photo:  Cap performing CPR on a victim being prepped for defibrillation.

Photo: Doctor Brackett with a handy talkie in his hand, in triage blue.

**********************************************************
Subject: The Real World
From: 	patti k (pattik1@hotmail.com)
Sent: 	Tue 12/01/09 1:12 PM

"Right there!" pointed Hallie, shouting through the roar of the air circulating 
in her scba mask. "The back door into ticketting!" 

"Where are we? I don't recognize anything any more." the oldest Rorchek 
son asked, eyeing up all the black and steaming, charred remains of
buildings and vehicles around them in the bright daylight. The heavy snow
that had fallen in the night had completely evaporated away in the heat of
the fuel fire's geyser that they could see in the distance.

Green answered. "A&P Aircraft Maintenance, Inc. North side and east
of the taxi stands according to our GPS."

Mike Stoker and Marco Lopez aimed their water hose at the fire scorched
door to cool it down. Licks of fire were dying all around them on tar
melted pavement. When the steam lessened, Chris Rorchek felt the door
with a bare hand pulled from a glove. "Can't tell if this heat's internal
or external." he said, gingerly testing the soot pocked metal surface.

"Only one way to tell." Stoker said. "I'm opening it."

Immediately, the others framed into a V shape with fanning hose sprays
while Mike eased to the side of the door frame, out of range. 

"Ready?" Mike asked, hefting up the halligan from his fire jacket.

"Yeah." they said.

Mike popped open the door and ducked, but no punishing flames
burst out. The interior was dark and no longer smoky. 

Chris grinned. "Maybe that hole in the roof of the building's cooled
things down enough to start putting the fire out. I can't imagine carpetting
burning for long in there. The floor underneath's all concrete." he said,
readjusting his faceplate when they had their hoses turned off again.

Marco Lopez nodded an invite in. "Tell that to the fuel leak. Just look
at that fire column. It must be at least three hundred feet high."

Chris merely glanced at it.
"We'll be nowhere near it. How hard can it be? One quick in, turn a valve,
one quick out and we'll be heroes. Anything's got to be easier than that 
red hot hut we just attempted. This is easy street with no burn, man." Rorchek 
grinned, hefting up his strapped on air bottle onto his shoulders a little higher 
to ease the ache in his back.

Hallie looked automatically over her shoulder and wiped water droplets off her 
mask with a soggy glove. "Where's our foam crew?"

"They're all converging on the mother fire at ground zero. Everything else
has been contained." Lopez told her. "They're going to try and smother
the burning fuel feeders flowing away from it along the runway. One's
been threatening the medical center and runway 24A. That's why the green
zone's been moved out to a nearby city park."

"Red zone, one block, or one mile big... doesn't matter to me." said Chris. 
"All I know is that I wanna be in it." he laughed.

The others chuckled and together they dragged their hoses, in defense of 
fire tricks, into the building.

Chris reported in. "GPS on, IC1. P.A.S.S.'s are active. We're going in."

##10-4, HT-1B. Tracking you on live monitor.## replied Joe Rorchek.

Helmet lights barely traced the path to ticketting. Fresh firefighter footprints
marred the sooty carpetting where signs of a rescue lay around one luggage
check in counter. Ted peered at one bootprint. "Number 7." he read, seeing
a company number stamped into dirt. "That's my bro. They must have found
that victim they went after." he said, eyeing up a used air bottle resuscitator tab. 

"Who?" Hallie asked as they hurried to the back of the public area towards
the furnace room and fuel line control closet they wanted.

"A security supe. The one who warned us about the fuel rupture on the ham
radio." Rorchek replied.

"Good. That man deserves all the credit for saving our rears. If we hadn't  
known about that, we could have all been fried inside the terminal when the 
gas fumes started building up high and one of us sparked them off by using
a radio." Green said firmly. 

Stoker was thoughtful. "Wait a minute. There's daylight down there. A lot of
it."

The others stopped and looked up at the ceiling. Large sections of roofing
were hanging by ruptured struts and ripped insulation and wiring. Here and
there, bright chrome heating ducts lay fallen and twisted through ragged
tears.

Lopez tried experimentally poking a loose section ahead of them with his pike 
hook. "It's holding." he said when nothing but small debris fell down. 
"At least this part is."

"We'll keep an eye on it." said Chris as they passed it by.

Flipping their two charged hoses around a corner, the four firefighters 
headed down a red glowing, emergency battery alighted hallway.

A low rumbling roar shook the foundations and caused a miniquake
around them that made pieces of debris fall all around them. The air
filled with fresh falling embers.

They protectively huddled onto the floor underneath a table while they
waited for the distant explosion around the fuel fire to fade.

When it was over, they got to their feet. 

Mike Stoker looked uneasy. "We'd better hurry. Sounds like it's growing."

-----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

The tremor running through the medical center's foundation, died away.

The active scanner at the desk, went wild. It started broadcasting
fire department speak out over the treatment area where Dr. Brackett and
Dr. Almstedt was still working over yellow triage tagged victims.

They both looked up to listen. Chief Joe Rorchek's voice soon spoke.
## Units 9 through 17. Form an active foam attack upwind of the hotspot.
Ladder 9, check out Ambulance 2. She was passing downwind when that new
activity began. Let me know a status.##

Joanne looked up from the little girl she was treating with a gasp. Ambulance
2 was flight paramedic Steven Beck's assigned rig for victim evacuations.

Dr. Brackett glanced at her. "Joanne?" he asked, thinking the crying little
girl was the cause of Joanne's reaction.

"A friend out there.. if ...you know what I mean." she said vaguely so she
wouldn't alarm the parents watching her work on splinting their daughter's 
broken arm. 

Kel nodded, understanding. 

Then the radio scanner burst into life once again. It was Ladder 9. ##L9 to
IC1, we've a confirmed FD rollover MVA with a Code I. Ejected, with a 
pulse.##

Joanne shot to her feet. "Steve!" she shouted, tears of surprise spilling 
down her cheek. "Dr. Brackett, you're in charge! This girl's done."

Stunned by her reaction, Dr. Brackett clambored to his feet to hold onto 
her arm. He spoke softly so only the two of them could hear. 
"Joanne, think again. We still have a lot of untreated people here."

"They can wait, remember? That's the beauty of yellow and green triage 
tags. Don't tell me that an ejected will be one of those and without significant
trauma." Dr. Almstedt snapped.

Kel's cheek twitched. "That's true. There's only one red tag coming in and he's
in full arrest. All right. At least take a radio." he barked, tossing her one. "We'll 
stay in touch with one another."

Joanne fled the medical center through the basement garage ramp with
a full medical bag flung over her shoulder. "I'll let you know his condition
as soon as I know." she shouted back.

Joanne buttoned up her EMS turnout against the cold as she hurried to the 
only triage area she knew, the one she could see out the mylar taped 
windows of the medical center. Vaguely, she wondered why it was so
sparsely populated by stretchered victims. She got a few curious stares
from running air bottled firefighters rushing towards the fuel fire but that
was all. She was flanking the marked off area around the cold middle plane
burn when she heard a loud man's groan to the right.

Stopping and turning, she spied a crawling man in security gray floundering 
in the foam. She whipped her radio to her mouth. "This is Dr. Almstedt, near
the airplanes. I've a conscious male victim spotted. I need immediate help."

She paused, staying where she was, torn between remaining a visual flag for
an arriving fire team or rushing in the short twenty yards it would take to
reach the airport worker and help him out.

##This is IC1 to the civilian on triage channel. You are in a red zone. Evacuate
immediately! ## warned Chief Rorchek. 

The security supervisor collapsed suddenly, face down in the foam.

Joanne reacted and ran towards him into the smoke. ::He'll suffocate in that!::
she thought.

She got about ten steps into the strange fog when she started choking and
coughing violently. She dropped to her knees and the world started swimming
before her eyes. The air around her became thin and sharp.

Suddenly, a pair of strong hands grabbed her by the shoulders and yanked her
to her feet. It was Joe Rorchek, wearing full scba. One of his gloves pressed
a mask of medical oxygen tightly to her face as he hauled her back the way she 
had come and into open daylight, her under one arm and the second around the
bottle of oxygen.

"Now that's the dumbest thing I've ever seen! The air's poison in there, doctor!"

She didn't reply and only choked as she staggered after him where he led.

"Keep breathing this in." he ordered. Once they were in clear air, he sat her 
down on the runner of his car. A firefighter rushed up to offer aid, but the chief
waved him away. "She's fine, firefighter. A few seconds inside only. This is just 
some active stupid."

Joanne could finally speak. "I'm sorry.  Nobody else seemed to see him and he
didn't look that far away to me." she said, finally holding the oxygen mask herself.

Nearby, a team of air bottled silver suited firefighters bore away the semiconscious
security supervisor in a stokes, heading for the hazmat showers in Holbrook Park.

"A fire zone's no place for civilians!" Joe roared. "What is it with you nurses and 
doctors? Always thinking that you can do it all. You want to play firefighter? I 
suggest you join the fire department legally!"

"I'm sorry, Joe." she coughed, clinging to the oxygen. "I was actually... really 
trying to find Steven Beck. He-- "

"Yeah, he was in Ambulance 2, but he's not here. We're evacuating this triage position
for obvious reasons. Didn't you notice? We immobilized him and sent him
to Holbrook Park." Joe pursed his lips. "D*mn it, doctor. The last thing we need is
an M.D. out of commission! Just what were you thinking?!"

"I-- Steve's a good friend. I'm s-sorry.." Joanne said, finally unballing her free fist,
still coughing.

Joe's ire finally cooled. He studied her thoughtfully as she shivered in her coat 
and tried to slow her breathing rate for him. Then he said. "I'd be lying if I said I've 
never done the same thing you just did. Every rookie falls for that trap.. until he 
learns better." He let go of her arm. "Steadier now?"

She nodded as her coughing subsided.

"Okay, hop in." he said, indicating his car. "I'll take you to where Steve is. The 
paramedics are calling for a doctor."

"No sh*t." she hissed, angry at herself, taking the oxygen bottle he handed her.

"By the time we get there, you'll be cleaned out lungwise. Those fumes were just some
CO and irritants. You were lucky." he told her. "Keep that oxygen strapped to your 
face until we get there." He tossed her foam covered radio into her lap where it
landed with a squishy plop. "And guess what? It didn't break when you dropped it."
 
Joanne raised her eyebrows, properly chastened as the bite of a raw throat began
around shock trembling muscles. She busied herself with cleaning the stickiness off 
the radio with a nimble parka sleeve. Then she looked up. "Are you going to tell 
anyone about this?"

"About what? You're not hurt so nobody has to know."  he glared. "Officially."

Dr. Almstedt started to focus on unzipping crucial pockets on her trauma bag.
"I can live with you and your men lecturing me for the next decade about my sheer 
stupidity." she grinned. "Thanks, Joe." 

He just harrumphed as he turned his lights and sirens on for the trip across the
boulevard. He picked up his car mic. "IC1 to IC2. I'll be 10-7 for three dropping 
off a doctor to Holbrook staging for a red tag."

##10-4, IC1. I'm available from that peds resuscitation. I'll assume complete 
operations until you get back.## replied Captain Stanley.

"I stand relieved." Joe confirmed through the transmission.

--------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Photo: Joanne looking distressed at news.

Photo:  Joe Rorchek on a radio mic by a fire engine.

Photo:  A big fuel burn between tankers.

Photo:  Joe Rorchek leading an oxygenating Dr. Almstedt 
             away from danger.

Photo:   Mike Stoker looking worried about a scene.

Photo:   Firefighters ducking in a debris fall.

Photo:  A woman arff suiting up into thermal turnout.

Photo:   Cap with Roy and Johnny surrounded by ruins.

********************************************************************
Subject: Spacewalk..
From: 	patti k (pattik1@hotmail.com)
Sent: 	Wed 12/02/09 1:22 AM

They reached the boiler room. A fast check over the radio 
confirmed that their present assignment, seeking the pipeline's 
main shut off, was still a go. Sweating heavily, they added 
an additional length of canvas from yet another emergency 
hose water valve alcove to one of their trailing inch and a 
halves. The lack of active fire in the area made them wait 
until its entire length was fully played out before they charged 
it into top pressure. 

Stoker halted before the door and was transfixed before a 
sign displaying there. "Oh, I don't like the looks of that." he said.

"What?" Chris asked, testing the door handle. "It's not even locked."
he grinned. 

"No, that." Mike said, pointing to the sign.

Chris looked. "Oh." Rorchek peeped. "That's a big dislike, coming 
from you, Stoker. But I find I'm agreeing with you one hundred 
percent on this one."

Marco Lopez squinted through his mask and rubbed some more grime 
off of its red surface. Then he began reading.  "Warning. Do not enter 
area when alarm is sounding. This area is protected by a Tyco Sapphire 
clean agent fire suppression system. Area must be ventilated prior to 
re-entry."

Chris frowned. "Oh, man. I hate it when places I work for get technology
installed that's way over my head. What the h*ll does clean agent mean?"

Stoker tried not to offend. "Uh, it means it evacuates all the air and oxygen
entirely in the space into which it's released but leaves behind no traces 
once it's done acting on a fire."

Rorchek rubbed his faceplate. "You mean it becomes an f..ing outer space
vacuum in there once it decides to go off?"

Stoker and Lopez and Green nodded in kind, mutely, trying to break it gently.

Chris's face fell slack with smouldering anger. "I really don't like that
concept. Not a whole lot at all. Not even a little." he said, holding up eensy
fingers of a glove. "Listen. Do we really have to go in there? I mean, I'm all
for circling around the whole airport and going at it again from the opposite
s--"

Hallie grabbed him by the collar. "We're going in." she told him no nonsense,
yanking him forward with her petite body sized strength.

Mike Stoker was almost eager to impart some knowledge once they were
through the pristine entry portal. The boiler room, was no boiler room. 
"Wow, look at all the computer banks and communications relays." he
remarked, giddy like a school boy in a library. "I've only heard about
computers. We have one at the hospital we work for back at home."

"Oh?" asked Lopez. "What does it do?"

"It sorts names." Mike answered.

"That sounds boring." Marco said.

Mike was oblivious.
"Betcha all these systems are really sensitive.." 

"Hence the lack of water or powder fire extinguishers in here." Green yawned.

Stoker reached out to touch a computer panel in admiration.

Chris's glove shot out and grabbed his wrist right through the jacket.
"DON'T. touch. anything." he hissed in warning.

Green made a face. "Chris, why are you whispering like you'll wake up
somebody's whiny brat? This system goes off with a rise in heat, not
noise. It's surrounded by machinery for Pete's sake."

Chris just concentrated on not touching any of the walls lined with fire suppression
sensors, triggers and pipes. "Just.. hurry on up, guys.." he said through tightly
gritted, worried teeth. Already his scba mask was steaming up in nervousness.
"I hate this place. Let's just find that frickin valve, shut its maw and get the h*ll
out of Dodge, all right?"

Green just laughed. "Never let it be said that a Rorchek isn't a little lilly livered
when the chips are--"

Chris turned on her. "Those smart chips are just quiet! So let's just keep them 
nice and cool....." he soothed. ".....so that creepy fire system thingie hanging over
our heads, won't kick in... to fire off its bizarre payload.... that'll KILL US ALL!" he
roared, spraying the inside of his scba mask with spittle.

"Geez, relax a little, Chris. Just trying to burn off a little stress between firefighters.
You know how that goes. We're relatively safe in here. No chance of burning up."
Hallie chuckled mildly.

Mike Stoker found another sign. "Hey, look at this. I found a timer. Says here,"
he said, peering at the digital display.. "That we have exactly thirty seconds to
clear the room once the alarm goes off, before the agent's released into
the atmosphere."

Chris almost turned purple. And he was also the one who found the valve they
were all looking for first. By a mile. "Here! It's here! I- I- found it. Let's just crank 
this big puppy shut and make some really fast boot tracks for daylight. 
Yeah, that'd be really g---"

BooOOOOOM! came a nearby explosion that rocked them all off their feet.
A whole wall caved in on itself, straight down, sending in a push of punishing
flameless heat deep into the high tech, non-boiler room. The emergency 
battery lights were killed when a wall unit hit the ground and shattered its wires 
from its power source, plunging the room into a complete and total darkness. 

Then, the Sapphire system's alarm, a piercing howl that vibrated the 
very bones down to the core, went off.

"Go! Go! Go! Move! We gotta get outta here!" Rorchek hollered, pushing
and shoving the others before him. 

The four firefighters, scrambled, skidded, and slid as if on banana peels on
the plaster dusted floor, trying for their feet.

A second explosion ripped through the area, this time it punctuated itself
in flames and fire balls, just across the hall from the clean room.

Hydraulic hinges and locks started to snick and whirl their tumblers inside
the door.

Marco, Stoker and Hallie found themselves shoved through the iron door
when it suddenly slammed itself shut on Chris, separating them. The seal
was more solid than a bank vault as the Sapphire began to work through
its programming. Rorchek froze, his gloves stuck in fear to the other side
of the triply reinforced, diamond filament wired window. His mask was no
longer steaming. He was holding his breath.

"Chris!" Hallie shouted. "No, oh no no-no no! We have to get him out!"
Green sobbed. She tore her axe off her jacket and began to take a swing.

Thinking more clearly, Mike and Marco hauled her bodily away from a tongue
of fire shooting at them from the ceiling. "We'll go get help. A K-12!" Stoker
shouted at her. 

"Oh, G*d. How long does he have? Did he grab a fresh air bottle along
with the rest of us? I mean, really a fresh one?" she said, almost hysterical.

Lopez and Stoker turned to run along the path of their hoses and life lines
that led back safely to the outside. 

"His air will last him okay, if we hurry." Marco insisted, picking up his boots.

That shut Green up. She peeled her faceplate away from the now empty
door window and she followed them.

Somewhere along the way, Hallie was overcome by the new heat.
Stoker and Lopez slung her arms over their shoulders and carried her
out vertically.

---------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Inside the white vapor filling room, Chris Rorchek made the first 
truly unselfish decision that he had ever made in his entire life. 

He reached up from his place crouched protectively on the floor
by the sealed door, and grabbed a hold of the fuel valve wheel. 
Straining harder and harder, Chris began to turn its stiff, non used 
painted spokes, in revolution. But the cost was faster breathing, 
and less and less air in his scba bottle, over time.

---------------------------------------------------------------------------------


Outside the airport terminal, the gathered hard working foam 
crews saw the monster geyser of pure fire suddenly falter, and
shrink massively in size until it was a dying trickle of its former
shape as its liquid fuel was cut off.

A great cheer arose among those battling fire companies when 
they realized that HT-1B's first-in team, had been successful in their
mission. 

Captain Stanley got on his radio. "IC2 to any communications
messenger. Call up the utilities and have them lock off their
main tank at the refinery to prevent a reverse air block. This
central fire's a large way to being fully contained." he said happily.

##Copy IC2.## replied one of the firemen on that job. ##Relaying lock 
down.##

But then Cap realized. ::Why isn't it completely out? That valve should
have stopped all the AV gas flow from reaching that pipe rupture.::
he thought.

A tongue of fire remained, about fifteen feet high and six wide in a 
steady plume.

A sense of foreboding gripped him. ::Something's wrong.:: Hank's
conscience warned.

-------------------------------------------------------------------------

Inside the Sapphire's clean agent filled room, the gas valve was buried in
pressurized fire through a new roaring rupture in its turn gasket's seal.

Chris Rorchek lay on the floor beneath it, unconscious.

----------------------------------------------------------------------------

Photo: Hallie and Al in red and yellow helmets, wincing at a 
            huge explosion.

Photo: Marco and Stoker clinging to each other in scba.

Photo:  Hallie and Chris, masked, talking to each other through
             a wall of flames.

Photo:   A clean agent fire suppression system warning sign.

Photo:   An ultra modern hi tech clean agent system installed in a room.

Photo:    Clean agent being released by a pinhole ring gasket head.

Photo:    Clean agent filling a boiler room with a white vapor.

Photo:    Marco and Stoker fighting a fire at night with a hosespray.

Photo:    A gas nozzle fully on fire.

Photo:    A fallen firefighter in scba, close up of an unconscious face.
 
**************************************************
Subject: The Ties That Bind..
From: 	patti k (pattik1@hotmail.com)
Sent: 	Wed 12/02/09 11:34 AM

Marco and Stoker got Green outside. Immediately,
Mike got onto his HT radio under the better reception.

"HT-1B to IC2. Firefighter trapped inside an activated clean
agent room. We need immediate personnel and heavy cutting 
and extrication tools!  Also we've a Code I down." he transmitted,
watching a pair of arff swiftly getting a limp Hallie out of her turnout gear
and air bottle where she lay stretched onto the ground on her side.

##Rerouting a full company to your location. What's the nature 
of the suppressive?## Captain Stanley asked.

"I don't know, Cap. The automated system's named Tyco Sapphire.
And the main door has a high grade security lock on it. Tumblers, and
rebar, like a vault." Stoker reported.

Hank frowned, thinking fast. ::Never heard of that before.:: he thought.
##Any other way in?## he asked, looking at the only coordinates
showing up inside the airport on the GPS. Vaguely, he was already 
imagining the shrill squeal of a P.A.S.S. device as its dead man's 
switch activated from being turned horizontal. He hated that sound.

"Re-entry might be possible past a partially blown wall but it'll be 
through extreme heat and unknown fire." Stoker told him.

##Condition of both your victims?##

"When we left him inside, conscious, on intact scba. The second
firefighter's semi conscious but breathing normally." Mike told him.

##Sending in paramedics. Watch for their response. I'm homing in
on your twenty!##

Mike Stoker took a deep breath as he hefted his HT thoughtfully 
in his hand. He accepted the exchange of a new air bottle from 
support crew onto his back and a pair of fresh gloves.

Marco Lopez was on his knees near Hallie. "Hey, Senorita.
Rise and shine. You're okay." he said holding her head supported
to make clear breathing room for her. An arff started Hallie on 
some oxygen by non-rebreather. She was panting and ringing wet.

"She awake enough to talk?" Stoker asked.

"Not yet." Marco answered, keeping tabs on her heart rate.

Stoker crouched down by them on his toes. "What do you think it is?"

"Heat. Pulse's racing. She was pretty worked up in there." Marco guessed.

"Yeah." Mike said ruefully, worried. "Good reason to be."

A small fire engine sped up and parked near their location. It was Ted
with Roy DeSoto and Johnny Gage. 

"Hallie?" Ted shouted, hurrying forward with a stokes. He set the basket
stretcher down next to her, setting a protective hand on her shoulder. "How
is she?" he asked, snatching at her wrist for a pulse.

"....tired..." Green groaned, finally appearing conscious. "Ted... it's Chris
 who's inside. You have to hurry." her voice trailed off.

The youngest Rorchek rose to his feet and immediately interrogated Stoker 
and Lopez for new information about his brother while Roy began an 
assessment on Hallie.

Gage joined him, listening, but first he asked. "Marco, Stoker? You okay?
Looks like it was pretty hot in there."

"We'll be fine to go back in once that team gets here." Lopez said, "We're
not small enough to roast right away." he quipped, trying to make Hallie laugh.

Green didn't smile, worried about the fact that she had to leave Chris behind.

Hank Stanley showed up with the extrication company. He stepped out
of the dayglow yellow cab and hurried up. "Okay, this is how it's gonna
go, people. Two teams. One, straight through that front steel door with
everything you've got. The other, find and start digging through that wall 
breach that's been reported. Watch for weak ceilings! Move out!"
He got to Roy's side. "Get her to Holbrook Park. There's a free doctor 
there and I'm sure Joe's gonna want to know about his son. Directly
from the horse's mouth."

DeSoto had a thought to consider. He spoke with Cap, aside, after
finishing up a BP. "Do you think Ted'll be okay going in after his brother?"

"You know him as well as I do." Hank replied. "Somehow, I don't think
anything in the world will be able to stop him."

"Not even Joe?"

"Now that's between family." Stanley said defensively, grinning.

Hallie was trying to get up. "No stokes. I'm walking!" she said.

Roy turned back to his patient. "Hey, hey, hey. Not so fast. You might
pass out again. Your temperature's still kinda high."

"Instant refrigerator all around me." she said of the cold winter air.
"I won't be that way for long."

"That's besides the point, Miss Paramedic. Now you know and I know
that a normal saline I.V.'s standard for black outs." DeSoto shrugged,
being diplomatic.

"I can swallow just fine. Somebody got a water bottle?"

"With that nausea? I dare ya." DeSoto challenged her, showing her
how low her blood pressure still was on his notes.

Hallie Green just sighed and laid back down into the stokes. "Okay,
but I want a radio. I'm gonna listen in on everything being done for
Chris word for word on live air. And no buts about it!"

"Fair enough." Roy told her, grabbing out an infusion set."Which arm?"

"The right. Better veins." she replied, suddenly growing sleepy with
fatigue. "Ted says my antecubital's a d-dreammmm.."

"Night.." Roy said, waggling a few fingers at her. "Firefighter, get
her on some limb leads. She's lost a lot of perspiration and might
have some salt and potassium issues. I wanna keep track with
an EKG on her."

The aiding arff nodded compliance, and covered her up with a thick 
blanket. 

----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Joanne Almstedt followed the chief like a lamb behind a ram. Soon,
she was given her most fervent wish. "Steven?" She ran toward
his gurney swiftly, already wearing rubber gloves.

A paramedic at his head gave the doctor a fast report."Male,
twenty nine years of age. Ejected eighteen feet onto pavement.
Chief complaint: tenderness upper left quadrant, guarding and
rigidity over the area. Circulation, motor ability and sensation 
intact in hands and feet. Broken left ankle with a pedal pulse. Stated
moderate neck pain. No tingling or numbness. Head seems to be 
clear. All bleeding's been controlled. All of it minor from those
facial cuts and scrapes. Consciousness level 10 on glasgow." 
said the man.

Joanne nodded as she felt Beck's carotid pulse, just to touch
him and test his awareness. "Beck, can you hear me? It's Joanne.
Do you remember what happened to you?"

"...I think I was trying to be Peter Pan,.. for the first time in my life." he 
joked, gasping in his C-collar and oxygen mask, dazed.

"Without wings." Joanne frowned, moving aside the blankets over
the spine board to get down to bare skin. "Where exactly does it
hurt?"

"ULQ. About a nine. I'm short... of breath. Dizzy.." Steve replied,
stiffening as she probed his abdomen carefully to feel for structures.

"Pressure?" Almstedt requested.

"One forty two, systolic." replied the attending paramedic.

"He has a mild hypertension history." she said.
"Ringers?" Joanne asked of the IV tucked under Beck's shoulder.

"Yeah, suspected internal injuries right off." replied the medic.

"You were right." she told him. Looking down, she addressed Steve 
once more."Beck, listen to me. It's not the spleen. I'm concerned about 
part of your large intestines, stomach or bowel perhaps. But first, there's 
something sharp, maybe a broken rib, that's very near your--"

"Not the heart.." he frowned, scared.

She nodded."It sits just above the point where you say that you are hurting 
the most." Joanne told him. "But the spreads between your QRS intervals
aren't serious yet. You're in sinus tach with only slight elevations. Might
not be tamponade at all. But I'm authorizing an immediate exploratory once 
I get you fast flown into Stony Brook. Try not to move or breathe in very 
deeply."

"But.."

"Shhh.." she said, placing a hand on his oxygen mask. "Rest. I'm giving you
MS for relief. Concentrate on slowing your breathing rate."

Beck's eyes fluttered shut as he panted in pain and stress.

Joanne looked up. "Intubate him RSI if he goes out. No mast trousers.
If his pericardium is damaged, I don't want him to bleed out around his
heart any faster. Keep tabs on his BP, watch for different readings
in both arms."

"Yes, ma'am."

Joanne looked up as Roy arrived with Hallie in her stokes with another
ambulance crew on a wheeled gurney. Almstedt stood up
to intercede, but Roy shook his head. "Yellow tag." he said.

Joanne nodded and then fulfilled her own promise to stay by Steve's
side until Morgan Wainwright took him away with his attending paramedic.

Joe Rorchek hurried from a canteen where he had snatched a quick
coffee to keep with him, high in sugar, for nourishment, when he saw
Green go by.

Roy braced himself for the coming storm.

"Chief, It's Chris. He's stuck in the clean agent room behind
ticketting. It went off." Green said, sitting up with the help of Al 
Martelli who had just noticed her arrival. "Don't worry, he's awake 
on bottled air."

Joe, to his credit, didn't panic like a father. "Any fire?"

"Damage from an explosion that didn't injure him." Hallie shared.
"Enough to collapse a wall."

"Ted's there?"

"Yes. He's probably already going in after him."

"Okay, how are you?"

"Just overheated. I did too much again, sir." Hallie admitted.

"Don't you worry about that. This night has loomed far larger than all 
of us. Thanks about news on Chris.." he said numbly. "Roy, stay 
with Green only as long as you need to."

"Yes, sir." DeSoto replied.

"Then get back to the terminal. I want every man possible working
on getting my son out." the chief ordered.

--------------------------------------------------------------------------

Ted Rorchek, Johnny Gage, Marco Lopez, Mike Stoker and half a 
dozen others were digging frantically in the service hall behind ticketting.
They had located the pile of debris that marked where the wall
had collapsed into the clean room, but they found that a subsequent 
roof fall had completely blocked up the large hole.

Other fire crews were working on ferociously attacking the small 
fires still remaining after the gas pocket explosions that had trapped 
Chris, from earlier on.

Chet Kelly was there, with a search probe. "I can't hear any breathing.
But that's not saying a lot. Sounds like there's a high pressure gas hissing 
actively in there along with a P.A.S.S. alarm."

"Hearing any flames?" Cap asked.

"No, Cap. Seems that agent stuff has done its work top notch." Chet told
him.

"Keep listening." Hank said softly, disturbed.

Chet crouched once more on top of the rubble and resnugged his earphones
back over his ear around his helmet.

Audibly, Chris's emergency P.A.S.S. device was still shrieking without cease.
It made the adrenalin in all the firefighters surge.

Ted Rorchek was side by side with Mike Stoker at the door, hefting up
a growling K-12 that was slowing making a dent in the metal, like a hot
knife through rice paper. "Okay, I think it's working.." Ted panted with 
effort. "Rags, are you sure you still can't see anything?"

"No, man. That fog sh*t's too thick and hanging on the floor. But we know
he's in trouble if we're hearing a shrieker." replied the big firefighter 
through his faceplate.

"He might be lying down to conserve his air." Ted hoped.

"Key word: might." Harris grunted, working at the hinges with a straining
jaws. His visor was flecked with metal bits.

Back at Holbrook Park Triage, Hallie Green had an idea. Still wearing
her helmet for warmth, she picked up her radio and started transmitting.
"HT1-B to C. Rorchek. Do you read me?" she hailed. *Spap*

There was no reply on Chris's band.

Ted Rorchek immediately glommed onto the brilliant idea.
##Chris, can you copy us? Hit your squelch if you can reach it, bro.
I wanna hear your voice right now.##

Joe Rorchek, too, attempted contact. ##Son, we're coming to get you.
Save your air by holding very still. Everybody's breaking down the doors
just to see you.##

Only silence greeted them.

----------------------------------------------------

Photo: Joe, Ted and Al all hovering over a wounded Hallie.

Photo:  Joe Rorchek looking frightened by a ladder.

Photo:  Hallie wearing a red and yellow helmet, on HT.

Photo:   An HT radio abandoned in a circle of flames.

Photo:   Roy DeSoto, sooty, at night in close up.

Photo:  Silver suited Hazmat firefighters tackling a blaze with foam.

Photo:  Joanne crouched by an injured Steven Beck on a backboard.

Photo:  Steven Beck closeup, immobilized and injured on O2.

Photo:   Chet Kelly searching rubble with a sound probe.
 
*******************************************************
Subject: Gambit... 
From:  patti k  (pattik1@hotmail.com)
Sent:  Thurs 12/03/09 03:34 AM
 
Hallie opened her eyes to a new person seated over her.

It was a man in a winter parka, wrapped tightly against the cold,
and yet, his skin held as dark a tan as she had seen in months.

"*cough* Did I black out again?" Green asked, disoriented
at the change from Roy to a new face.

"For a while. But that's only part of the reason why I'm here."

"Who are you?" she croaked.

"I'm Dr. Brackett, one of Station 51's ilk you might say. They're
evacuating the medical center as we speak. There's a large
crack forming underneath the foundation. They're worried about
cave-ins due to the weight of the adjoining parking garage." he
said, adjusting the flow of her I.V. bag to wide open.

"So when am I through?" she asked, all of her anxiety returning.

"When I say so." Kel said. "And not a minute before. I know
about the personal situation you have going on."

Hallie got mad. "That's one of my coworkers in trouble back there!"

Brackett just looked at her while he examined her eyes with a penlight.
"Uh, huh. And all of my patients, also in trouble, are all right here, including
you. Your pressure's dropped."

"That's because I'm hungry. Add some sugar to my ball and chain
and I promise I'll make you smile enough to do a jig!" she snapped, 
tugging on her I.V. line hard enough to make the pole rock. 

He steadied it back onto its wheels and just quirked his lips. 
"It's already ordered. Here's a step into the right direction. If you stay put, 
I'm making you officially a green tag." he shared, getting up to make 
a few notations to the evacuation order on Hallie's chart. Then he left for 
another stokes containing his next patient. None of them, Green could see, 
held a firefighter. 

And the radio that she had so coveted, was gone.

Whispering, Green sighed in frustration. "No, I'm all yellow..." she sobbed,
not meaning her triage priority. "...for not sneaking right back into that d*mned
fire... to try and save him."

------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Ted Rorchek raced back to where his dad was standing near
the fire secured access to ticketting. "Dad, it's still taking
everything we got just to make a dent in that door. Those hinges
just aren't cutting through fast enough. We're running out of time!"

"Ted, if I had a faster solution other than brute force, I'd offer one."

"Chief." Gage said, stepping forward from where he was prepping
a new air bottle for one of the arff working hard to breach the 
obstacles in the way of reaching Chris Rorchek.
 
Chief Joe stopped looking at the blueprint he was studying of their
problem. "I'm listening."

"Well, sir. How about us trying to break into that clean room from the roof? 
You see, my pal Chet Kelly here and I were thinking about it and.. 
Well, just exactly how many rooms do you know of that're built 
absolutely solid stainless steel including the ceiling?"

Joe blinked in surprise. "Practically none that isn't a strong vault in itself."

"My point exactly. An airport's not Fort Knox. I can't imagine that the 
designers even started to think that way. No money's stored in
that room, just some high tech machinery." Johnny reasoned.

Chet added more. "With that part of the roof of the terminal already gone, 
sir, we could try rappeling down from the parking ramp and then crawling 
in that way to Chris through the infrastructure that has already been exposed."

Rorchek slammed down the antennae of his radio.
"Go! I want every man making that idea workable! Hank, I'll send over 
another aerial to provide a water shield to protect your two paramedics 
from the heat." Chief Rorchek told him. "They have more experience
high angle than my men do."

"They're yours." Cap said.

Roy nodded his head as he leaned into Johnny. "Have we ever tried
rope work wearing scba?" 

"Nope, but there's always a first time. That fireman can't wait." Gage replied, 
all business. "And I'm never one to shirk a new experiment."

They flew into action.

---------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
Two minutes later, Captain Stanley faced their launch-off challenge, the parking
ramp. "Okay, nobody goes inside without a hose and prybar team back up. 
Cracked concrete slabs can still pretty much tip over with barely any weight placed
on them. Especially when they've got a fire that size burning underneath causing
some buckling. Tie on lifelines and make yourselves tight enough harness wise 
to withstand a fall."

"Go in through the subterranean entrance?" Roy asked. 

"Yeah. At least we know that way was still good five minutes ago."
Hank replied.

"Who told you that?" Johnny asked.

"The last patient who was evacuated from the med center." Cap shared. 

"Don't you ever hate being all seeing and all knowing, Cap?" Chet quipped, 
grinning as he fastened ropes to Roy and Johnny's life belts, trying to 
lighten the high stress they were all feeling.  

"Never, Chet. The second I don't know something about a fire..." Cap choked
up, thinking about all the deaths they had seen happen right before
their eyes the night before. Hank didn't finish the sentence.

Roy and Johnny just glared at Chet.

Kelly apologized immediately. "Sorry, guys." he said, pointing a gloved 
apologetic finger at his mouth. "I was only trying to laugh it up."

Hank was appreciative. "You meant well. Be funny later." he said looking 
at his watch. "Maybe then we'll be able to laugh at something."

The fire company guarding the barricaded off parking ramp access
immediately admitted Roy and Johnny and Cap. They hurried through the 
lower level, where a communications desk from inside had been hastily 
shoved outside. The safety there was utilizing a land line phone, to get 
around the dead spots in radio transmissions inside the ramp.                                     

Once they reached the top, Roy asked. "Cap? Where should we
anchor from? There are no antennae or anything up here."

"We'll use this right here." said Cap. "It's a layover pulley installed for
a window washer's scaffolding." He said, patting the red winch looking
hook nestled over the roof edging wall. "I'll stay with you up here 
until you get inside." Hank said, waving over a few firefighters to man
Roy and Johnny's safety lines. Then he hefted up his HT. "IC2 to HTs'
Lopez and Kelly. See if you can find access over the clean room
from inside the terminal as a backup. Tear down the ceiling if you have 
to, near the entry team, to climb up."

##10-4, IC2.## they replied in double.

Stoker ran up to meet Cap on the roof of the ramp with news.
"Cap, looks like the way in through the collapsed wall isn't
going to work. As fast as we dig out, more debris keeps
filling in."

"That's all right. We have Plan C in the works." Hank told Mike.

"What's Plan C?"

"That." Cap said, pointing.

Mike looked and saw the aerial angle being worked.
"Oh, nice." he grinned happily.

Another team of firefighters accepted a rope gun toss from
the ramp and got busy securing the other end of the rappelling anchor 
line to a stable structure on top of the control tower.  Then, with the new
line dangling in the sunlight in a great sweeping arch over the fire burned 
hole left by the fuel fire, things were ready.

Soon, DeSoto and Gage were dangling in mid air over the mostly
destroyed airport. The only signs of life were the brilliant reds and yellows
of the fire crews and their vehicles rushing about their business below.

"Ah, sad looking sight.." Gage hollered back at Roy and he slid along their
rope as he accelerated hands over head down to their access goal. 

"Not for long. People are resourceful. They'll build again." DeSoto
said sliding after him, just as fast.

Both paramedics found themselves counting their breaths and
remembering exactly how many could be taken using a self contained 
air bottle before it ran out.

Just before they sagged down for a landing near the fire hole, they put 
on their faceplates and masks.

"Okay, let's go." DeSoto said. He froze their descent winch right over
the gap along the horizonal rope, to use as a vertical tether point. 
"We're secure."

Then, they were inside the building. 

"Chet was right, the infrastructure crawl spaces between the ceiling tile 
suspension frames and the roof is doable." Johnny celebrated. "And 
there's the top of the clean room over there." he said, aiming a flashlight 
through the heavy smoke into the murk. "I recognize those red painted 
pipes. They belong to that funky Tyco system thing. I had a look at them 
through the doorway."

"Just so that fire cooperates with us and decides to behave a little."
Roy said.

"I don't see why not. It's been mostly strangled out by that valve."

"Have you ever heard of Mount Vesuvius and the eruption of Pompeii?
It didn't blow again until there was enough pressure to push out the blockage."
DeSoto mused.

Gage frowned at that image. "Try and think positive. Usually, you're the one
telling me that."

When they were over the room, a great rumbling began.

Johnny paled through his mask. "That's not a good sound." he said,
whirling around to look behind them. 

Kelly, near Lopez, radioed a warning to Gage and DeSoto. 
"Ground rupture. Duck and cover!" 

Roy and Johnny instantly flattened onto their stomachs over a firm 
concrete girder. 

------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
Al Martelli looked up from the foam truck engineering panel he was manning
as a stand in for a cool down break. "Oh, crap." Then he started shouting.
"Guys! Doubling your output right now!" he hollered, quickly spinning dials
and releasing valves.

Out in the airfield by the great big gaping hole the ruptured fuel line
had made in the tarmack, a new pool of fire emerged. Its energy
and quick temperature change buckling the landscape and the crack
running to the medical center and parking garage widened in one swift
surge.

The safety at the desk in the ramp, bailed and dove out of harm's way 
as the first floor of the parking garage disappeared into the ground.

Nearby, Joe Rorchek radioed out instantly. "IC1 to IC2. You and
your man okay up there?"

Cap waved as well as transmitting. "We're fine. What was that?
There's a lot of dust rising up around us." he said, rolling nimbly
to his feet. He helped Stoker up as well with a firm glove. 

"First floor of the ramp collapsed. Looks like the fuel pressure's 
building up again because it's still burning. The only way down for 
you is by rappelling along 51's line back over to the control tower.##

"Same escape plan idea as mine." Hank agreed. "We'll get going 
out of here right now by that route."

-----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
 
Al Martelli had his hands full. "Ready for more foam?! Thumb up?!" 
he shouted to the silver suited arff on his team. He knew he had
to provide and provide amply so personnel wouldn't fry. 

"We're anchored. Feed the line again!" they hollered and signalled 
back. As one, the trio of fighters attacked the fiery new split in the earth
and fought it to knockdown black all the way to the source it came.

Suddenly a fireman inside the building, only wearing standard
turnout gear and scba was enveloped in flames. He didn't scream. He reacted,
spinning about with his water hose spraying strongly in a protective flower. 
He umbrelled himself underneath a circle veil of water until the foam crew 
could get him out of the hot spot. 

The head foam arff shouted. "Are you hurt?"

"No, I'm fine. Wasn't on me long enough." replied the firefighter.  
Behind him, the hose he had used and then dropped when the opportunity
presented itself, burst open in the fire, curling brown and burning when its 
engineer terminated its water source. "Thanks for the cover. Looks like 
my angle's all dried up." 

"Join us. We're going in to make an exit for the trapped Code I."
the foam captain invited.

"I'm all over that." said the company man, running to grab a silver suit.

--------------------------------------------------------------------------
Roy and Johnny began to shimmey on their bellies, fast,
seeking a soft spot over the clean room when the shaking stopped.

DeSoto replied back to the others outside. "We're okay! We're
moving in!" he said, pulling out a short axe.

"Here?" Gage asked, clearing away just enough soot to read
the guide markings along the rafters to avoid gas lines and
hot water pipes. He tapped on the hollow roof's shell.

"Yeah, right there!" Roy agreed and started swinging the blade
of his hand tool down with all of his strength.

Johnny shouted as soon as a man sized hole was visible.
"Chris! Chris! Can you hear me? Bang on something!"

But they only heard the loud howl of Chris's P.A.S.S. device.

Quickly, Roy lowered Johnny down onto the floor by the arms.

As soon as his feet touched the gritty floor Johnny read the sensor 
disk on his jacket. "Air's still not breathable in here. No oxygen! 
Even with our new hole!"

"Do you see him?" Roy shouted down.

"Not yet. I'm going to let the others in to help us out!" he replied.
"That agent gas is still waist high in here."

Moving forward carefully, sweeping ahead of himself with
a booted foot for a feel of Chris's body underneath the white vapor,
Johnny made his way to the main steel door.  Regular tugging
didn't budge it, so he backtracked to the Sapphire unit's battery power 
source, and severed its wires with his axe. With a pop of sparks, 
the digital display showing gas activation, died out and went blank.

Gage tugged the door open with relish when the locks released
and in flooded Chet and Marco, already pushing back from the other 
side. 

Another firefighter team with a pair of PPEs set them up and began
evacuating the dessicant from the room. Soon, the fans had sucked
out all the vapor from the floor level.

They found Chris by seeing just his booted feet, sticking out from
under a pile of tumbled ductwork and a storage tank 
that had fallen down during the new rupture fire.

"Is he breathing?" Chet asked, scrambling near the debris to help
dig. The firefighter wasn't moving.

"I don't know. He's mostly buried. Chris!" Roy shouted. 
On his knees, he reached up along a sweat dampened leg to feel 
for a femoral pulse. But the way was blocked by a wall of metal.

Gage shouted into his radio. "We need a Hurst tool ASAP!"

There was no immediate reply.

"I'll get it." said Marco, running. "The others are probably tied up
with all that burn going on outside."

The fan crew spoke up suddenly. "Okay, we're completely 
ventilated out. Air's testing safe to breathe. Plenty of oxygen."

Roy ripped off his faceplate gratefully and turned to Kelly. "Chet, 
see if you find a way to his face and give him some air anyway you 
can. Johnny and I have to try for that fuel valve one more time as a 
next priority!"

Gasping in the thin air, Gage and Roy made their way over to the
valve that had started flaming again when the clean agent disappeared.

A foam team was desperately trying to cool it down.
Roy and Johnny waved at them. "Okay, we're going in turn it!" he
warned. 

They nodded.

DeSoto and Gage got on their stomachs and slowly crawled to
the cooler side of the valve pipe assembly, with a long pry bar.

Reaching up around the tongue of fire erupting from the torn 
metal gasket, they threaded the tool in between the spokes of
the valve wheel. Then they carefully put their shoulders into it
full strength.

The foam lubricated valve rotated, groaning under the heat/cool
stresses it was enduring. Yelling, Roy and Johnny pulled even 
harder on the ends of the bar they were using as leverage. 

But a building rumble made them abandon the control quickly
and they dropped the tool to the floor to save themselves.                          

-----------------------------------------------------------------------------------
Outside, Joe Rorchek broke off from the commands he was giving
via HT to his working fire crews when another explosion sinuated up
from the original hole in the ground. "D*mn it! She just won't stay 
down!" he spat to himself, worried for his missing son.

He was still pacing as he watched his orders carried out when a 
man rushed up to him. "The garage is burning, sir. Over there!"

"We know that. It just started. Just who the h*ll are you? You should 
have been evacuated from this air field hours ago."

"Uh, sir, I'm the bus driver. I was helping out your fire guys on the
ham radio.." he prompted. "I have a pass." he said, waving his FD
authorization that was hanging around his neck. "But I'm not being
a fire buff just because I can. Listen to me, Chief, I think there 
are people still up there."

"Yes, we have two firefighters who're going to rappel out of danger
from up there as soon as they harness up."

The bus driver was insistent. "No, I mean, two other people. A man 
and a little girl."

Joe's forehead furrowed. "Where did you last see them?"

"On the top level. They were heading for the stairwell from a car 
last I saw. I guess they were trying to hide there or something from
all the explosions."

Rorchek lifted the HT to his mouth. "IC1 to IC2. Belay! Belay your
evac! There's been a report of two civilians present in the ramp.
Confirmed by an authorized. I want you to find them and get 
them out of there. But watch yourselves. The lower level is
on fire. Just started. It's gonna take me a bit to get resources
out to you."

##IC2 to IC1, loud and clear.## said Hank. 

Very soon, Stoker and Stanley found them. They were still on
the roof, hard to spot because of all the tall SUVS and vans
parked in the ramp.

"I tried to get down. Really I tried." said the little girl as Mike Stoker
picked her up protectively. "But grandpa's really scared. I know that 
even though he can't talk any more."

Hank studied the old man's face for soot or injuries but there were none.
But he saw the unmistakable signs in him of a vulnerable adult created by
the effects of a mild stroke that had happened long ago, in the wrong 
places.

"Honey? How old are you? Where's your mom and dad? Aren't they here 
to take care of you and your grandpa?" Cap asked her, brushing away hair 
from her frightened eyes.

"I'm eleven. They were supposed to meet us at the car last night. But they 
never got here." she said, beginning to cry.

"Okay." Hank said, meeting Mike's eyes significantly. "Now Mike and I are
fire fighters from the airport fire station. And we're going to bring you
someplace else where we can try to find your parents, okay? How does
that sound?"

"All right, I guess." she sniffed.

"All right. Now come on over here to this wall. We're going to get some
lifebelts and new ropes and then we're going to go for a little ride. Would
you like that?" Cap asked her.

"I don't know. But if you want grandpa to follow you. You're going to have
to take his hand." she said.

"Like this?" Hank asked, taking the old man's gently and meeting his eyes,
giving him a follow me gesture.

"Yes. He'll go. Just smile at him." she explained, shivering bravely.

Once they were there, Cap had Stoker sit the man down on a bumper
of a nearby car. Then he broke open a window of an airport hotel 
supply van with his helmet to borrow some blankets to help keep 
their new victims warmer in the cold.
 
Stoker got on his radio. "HT-51 Ramp to the control tower crew."

##Go ahead, 51.## they replied, still watching from their position
on the other side of the rappelling anchor.

"Send over a stokes and two life belts and ropes. We're going to
get two uninjured people, one by one, from our location over to you." 
Mike explained. 

##10-4, Sending over a guided basket with gear, right now.##

-----------------------------------------------------------------------------------
Hallie Green got out of the fire engine she had hitched a ride
with to get back to the airport. Her head was helmetless, but
nonetheless, she got out of the truck, rechecking the bandage
she had wrapped over the place where she had yanked out her 
I.V. She timidly made her way over to Joe Rorchek's location.

"Hallie." he said surprised. "How are you feeling? Did they release
you? There's no news yet." he said quickly, distracted as he watched
Stoker and Hank's rescue in progress.

"No, I released myself. That Cali doc left me a back door as long
as I finished my I.V. off completely. He made me a green tag even
though I wasn't ready for it."

"Left you permission to walk on your own two legs." Rorchek half 
smiled in admiration for the man he had never seen. "He knew the 
rest of us would do the necessary bedside sitting for him."

"Don't worry, Chief. I left all my gear at home. I just wanted to be
here." she sighed, coughing.

"Sit down." Joe told her, inviting her to park on a pack of airbottles
cushioned with a spare overcoat. "Glad you came. Now the both of
us can worry together." he frowned.

"Make that three, firefighters." said a female voice.
It was Joanne Almstedt. "I heard there was a possible red tag 
on the way."

"Yeah, my son, Chris. He's still inside." admitted Joe.

Joanne looked up, noticing the rope line strung between the
parking ramp and the blackened quiet control tower. "What's
going on over there?"

"An aerial rescue. Don't worry, just two stragglers. Nobody's hurt."
Rorchek told her.

"Not yet." Joanne surmised. "Looks dangerous." she said with some
trepidation.

"Piece of cake." said Hallie, confident, watching with her eyes shielded
from the sun.

Joe's IC band shuddered into life. ##We've found him!## reported 
Chet to the outside.

"Is he alive?" Joe asked eagerly, toggling his HT.

##We haven't been able to reach a checkable pulse point. He's
under a debris pile.## Kelly shared. 

Joe startled, almost wanting to move forward towards the building, 
but then he stopped himself. 

##But the room's now breathable, sir.##

"Thank you for that update, fireman. Keep me posted." he 
said unevenly.

##I'll come out to you with the gas sniffer report!## he said,
wanting to prove to a father that what he was saying was the
truth.

Joe didn't reply back when his voice choked up.

Joanne Almstedt reached for his arm in sympathy and Joe, without
looking at her, placed his glove over hers in stiff gratitude.

Beside him, Hallie Green suddenly froze in place. "Oh,ohoh.."
she minced. "Chief, look at that!" She said pointing.

On the roof of the parking ramp, smoke was showing from a car.
It was on fire and a tendril of burning gas was slowly trickling down
the side of the ramp to the ground below as it flowed downhill.

Joe immediately got on the handy talkie. "IC1 to IC2. To your two
o'clock! An incendiary flow's headed in your direction!"

Hank and Stoker whirled. They saw the danger and quickly moved
the aerial line's pulley assembly and both their victims to a safer
corner of the ramp. ##Change noted!## Hank replied.

Joe ansed. "There's isn't going to be enough time to stokes ferry
everybody over to the tower. Another car is going to catch and possibly
explode, setting off chain reactions in other cars. Not enough time to 
raise any kind of a ladder.." he said, speaking mostly to himself. Then 
he made a snap decision and broadcast a command over the radio. 
"Companies 9, 12. Emergency! Pull out a lifenet and bring it
to 51's location at the north side and east side ramp corner. We're 
bailing two firefighters and two civilians, a.s.a.p.!" 

Even as he spoke another car exploded on top of the garage ramp,
making the little girl scream. It was very audible to the firefighters below
and its effect was electric. They flew in even faster to help.

Joe added more. "Ladder 15, Ladder 6, Chopper 10. Aerial attack those
new ramp fires! Stay upwind!"

Swiftly, the tan canvas net with the red bullseye, was ready, ringed by
a dozen firefighters holding it at the ready.

Cap leaned into the terrified little girl in his grasp, talking fast. "Pretend
this is gym class. You're going to jump, and the men down there are going 
to catch you."

"...no..." she said, pressing away from the wall. 

"You're going to have to, honey." he said, watching Mike desperately keep
the on fire liquid river from reaching them with a charged ramp fire hose on
wide open. "Just close your eyes. It'll feel like a trampoline, I promise. But
without the bounce."

"Better hurry, Cap! I can't hold this stuff off much longer!" Stoker hollered.

Still the little girl buried herself into Cap's smoky jacket.
Cap was still trying to break the girl's grip gently when a sudden sight
made both of them look up and stop the struggle.

Grandpa was climbing up onto the wall nimbly, a beatific smile on his
face. He raised his arms in a swan's dive pose and then looked back
at his grand daughter excitedly. Then he just shrugged a very obvious
oh, well,.. and turned away.

"Head's up!" Mike shouted into his HT when the old man neatly tipped
off the building into a perfect butt first and back faced down push off.

He landed exactly on target over the red spot, but the excitement made 
him faint dead away and suddenly his smile for the girl's benefit, faded 
away.

"Nothing to it..." Hank told the child, with an amazed gasp. "See? Grandpa
did it, and he got to go first." Then he turned around, still holding the girl 
in his arms. "Mike, I'm going next just as soon as they clear the net." he
said, watching those down below check for a carotid and swiftly move 
the old man off to a place on the ground in a careful protective spine carry.

"But.."

"Mike, I'm going to show her again how much fun this is." Hank told him,
an artificial smile locked onto his lips. "So she can play, too."

"Oh, okay, Cap. Sounds like a really nice game. I'll play those rules."
he said meekly.

Mike set down the hose, still turned on, nestled neatly in grandpa's blanket
so that it continued to push away the burning gas flow still spreading
bigger and bigger and closer and closer, behind them.

Hank passed off the trembling girl to Stoker and then he handed the girl
his HT. "You give a try with this first. Can you hit that red spot? Go ahead.
Go toss it down. If you make it, you get five points." he said playfully, in
a farce. 

Calming down just a little, the still scared girl dropped it. The radio hit 
dead center. 

"Bingo!"  Cap said. Then he climbed onto the wall and waved once.
"Now follow me.." And he fell backwards two stories, and down into
the net where his momentum was stopped by many strong arms.

The little girl's mouth flopped open into a shocked but delighted smile.
"Can I do that?" she asked Mike.

Stoker was still keeping an eye on the fire. "Sure.." he said, nervously.

Hank rolled off the net and swiftly took a place at its rim as a holder. He
took back his radio from a firefighter and called up. ##Your turn.## he said
as they raised the catch net back to chin level with all eyes on the sky.

But suddenly, there was no more time. Three cars twenty feet away suddenly
exploded into a huge fireballs, sending shrapnel flying in all directions. Mike
felt a sharp impact on his back. "Two going down!" he shouted, quickly 
leaping over the edge with the little girl still held tightly in his arms. He nestled 
her head under his chin as they fell. "Hang on, honey. I got you."  And then
he held his breath.

They struck.

---------------------------------------------------------------------
Mike came to on his side, with pain radiating between his shoulder blades.

A panting voice was right next to his ear. 
"Hold still. You've got a big cut right here." Hank said, holding pressure against
a wound with his gloves. "But it looks like your air bottle deflected whatever it was
that sliced your skin. It's shallow."

Stoker struggled to catch his breath. "Sorry,... about the extra weight."

"She was nothing at all. You chose right." Stanley said. "Hold still and let me 
get all this bleeding packed off before you try to get up."

"How's the girl?"

"Fine. A few nicks and bruises about the face but uh, Chet's taking care of that.
You know how good he is with kids."

"And Grandpa?"

"A little amnesiac. But that's only because he checked out a little early on
the way down. Our lady doc's taking a good look at him, now that he's back awake 
and looking up a storm at all of us."

------------------------------------------------------------------------------

The distant explosions in the main fuel fire ended and
as they eased off into a new phase of quiet consumption,
Roy and Johnny lifted their heads to once again tackle 
the AV gas valve.

"Ready?" Gage asked DeSoto. 

"More than ready. Let's end this once and for all. That fire's
had enough time to ruin the neighborhood. " Roy told him.

Again the foam team smothered them with protection as they 
advanced with the pry bar to turn the burning wheel.

The third time was a charm, when one final spurt of lurid flame
around the violated gasket, sputtered out.

Roy and Johnny collapsed on the iron tool, using its support to
hold themselves up in tremendous relief.

As if in benedication, all of their radios sprang into glorious, joyous life. 
##The main fire's out. No sign of renewed blazing anywhere that we can 
see inside the main terminal. Good job, men. Good job!## Joe
congratulated.

51's paramedics accepted the help back onto their weary feet from their
colleagues on the foam team. They got a few pats on the back for risking
their necks so close to the red hot metal.

The overheated prybar clanked back onto the foam moist concrete
floor as it was abandoned in favor of saving an individual life again.

Chris's. 

-------------------------------------------------------------------------------

"Brackett coming here?" Mike winced as Cap began to cut away his jacket. He
decided to lay his face back down onto the net to rest a while with his eyes closed.

"Yeah, we don't know whether or not Grandpa has a seizure history or not with 
that old stroke of his." Stanley answered, then his voice changed. "Whoa."

"What?" Stoker asked quickly.

"I hope it's not bad news. Roy and Johnny are back out here a little early."

Mike cracked an eye open, but his eyes were too blurry with fatigue to
focus much. "I'd go find out." he suggested.

"Great idea. I'll be back to autograph your bandages." Hank said, 
patting his shoulder amicably.

"Oh, ha ha." Mike groaned as another firefighter took Cap's place
as a first aider.
                                                                                                                        -----------------------------------------------------------------

Photo:  Hallie Green, crying by a fire engine.

Photo:  Dr. Brackett in a winter parka.

Photo:   Silver suited airport rescue firefighters foaming a fire.

Photo:   Gage crawling under a fuel valve leak amid foam.

Photo:   Cap and Stoker lowering a steel stokes basket at you.

Photo:    Firefighters holding a lifenet, a long way down.

Photo:   Mike Stoker lying wounded, on an EKG monitor, eyes closed.
 
***************************************************
Subject: Epilogue
Sent: Thurs 12/03/09 23:34 PM
From: patti k (pattik1@hotmail.com)

Dr. Joanne Almstedt looked up as she held Grandpa onto his side
while he got sick. The footsteps she had heard approaching
belonged to Johnny Gage and Roy DeSoto.

"Any word on that firefighter yet in the clean room?" she asked
as she handed Grandpa a cloth towel to use to wipe his mouth.

"We're still digging him out. It's slow going. But, we think he's
alive and breathing. We get a really pink capillary refill back into 
the skin of his feet when we pinch them. We came out here to 
find out whether or not that clean agent's poisonous when inhaled." 
Johnny said.

"I can sure find out." she said.

"We tried to reach you, but you didn't answer your radio."
DeSoto explained. 

Joanne was embarrassed enough to blush. She could still
see it sitting forty feet away on the hood of Joe Rorchek's 
battalion car. "Oops, I got kind of busy. This gentleman and his
charming princess of a sidekick decided to try a Superman
act off a burning garage ramp."

"Need help packaging them?" Gage asked.

"Naw, we've plenty of help. Dr. Brackett's on the way to help
me figure out this man's neurology and cardiologic signs
before we let him back up onto his feet. He can't tell us if
this nausea's MI related or simply due a post reaction to his
agrophobia." she smiled.

Nearby, Hank gaped. "He's got a fear of heights?"

She nodded. "His granddaughter told me about it."

"Sure as h*ll could have fooled me up there. He was pure
Evel Knievel during his whole swan dive stunt. Didn't shake
a bit."

"That was an act. To save her. They're very devoted to each
other." Dr. Almstedt grinned. 

"How's Chris Rorchek?" Hank asked Roy and Johnny.

"Thumbs up, Cap. First hurdle done. He's hanging in there.
Now all we have to do is find out whether or not he earns a week's 
time off, or a year."

"That tangled up, huh?"

"No thanks to the fire." Roy said.

Then she noticed a motion.
"Ah, Dr. Brackett. Can you take over here? This case is
a syncopal episode following a life net fall. I have to find out
a bit of crucial information for your two paramedics."

"Be glad to." Brackett said. Kel noticed Hallie hanging back
in the wings, and gave her a conspiratory wink. "Looks like
everybody out here's gonna be okay. That firefighter inside
is going to be one of our last patients, doctor." he said
to Joanne.

"Really?" she asked.

"Yep. The other team of doctors finally arrived from New Jersey."
Brackett said.

"What took them so long?" Almstedt wondered.

"Snow plows. They did a lousy job of clearing the roads. They had
to keep stopping at every roadside accident to help out until the fire 
department paramedics got there, all night long."

"Must have been a lot of them." Cap said.

"There were. Hundreds in fact, because of the odd early snowstorm. 
But this airport suffered the worst weather related incident, by far." Kel 
said as he studied Grandpa's EKG reading. "Joanne. He's a little bradycardic. 
But that's probably from the cold. I'm not seeing much in the way of 
abnormalities at all. Now l'll see if I can peg a good normal baseline
mentation wise."

"Thanks. I'll be right back." she said. "Fellas. Let's go talk to Joe
about that reagent of yours. If anyone knows what that chemical 
actually was, it's gonna be him." she said, rising to her feet. She handed
Kel Grandpa's already started I.V. bag, which he took quickly, to read the
label to see what course of treatment she had already decided to do.

Chief Rorchek's eyes couldn't hide the flash of anxiety in them when
he saw who it was that sought him out. "Boys, about Chris?" he
began.

Roy set him at ease. "Sir, he's alive. And his pressure's not that
far off normal as far as we can tell. His capillary refill's around
two seconds. He's not in bad shock."

Joe sighed in tremendous relief, folding his arms across his chest
as he let go of his tight fingers hold on his HT. "Injuries?" he asked
quickly.

"Too soon to tell. His location has a lot of tricky debris piles. We
don't want to make things worse by causing any settling."

"That's fine, that's good." Joe said happily. "Don't rush a single step."
Then his emotions got the best of him and he started tearing up
as killer stress just melted away. "Thanks, boys." he sniffed.

Roy and Johnny just smiled respectfully, giving him a little privacy by
not staring.

"Think I'll ....take a break and go call my wife and tell her the good news.
the chief said. "Hank, you're in charge."

"Gladly, sir." Stanley nodded.

John was still smiling, looking around at a landscape that was blissfully 
just black and white without the orange of flame when he spied Mike Stoker
getting wheeled by on a stretcher. "Mike?" he blurted, his grin falling away.

Hank stopped Johnny's forward rush with a hand on Gage's chest. "Let
him sleep. He's fine."

Roy asked. "What happened?"

"He saved a little girl." Stanley beamed. "But I'll let him tell that tale later."

"And all that blood?" Gage asked, getting mad that Cap was ordering him
away from a wounded friend.

"Just some needed stitches. No surgery." Hank said. "Now go paramedic
our top priority. Chris Rorchek needs the two of you more than he does."

Reluctantly, not taking their eyes off of their I.V. trailing engineer, Roy
and Johnny mainly groped for a new set of air bottles by feel alone
before they obeyed the order to jog back inside.

The interior was very black and growing wet from cold air condensation
as they made their way back to the activity in the clean room. The
lieutenant in charge of rescue there told them to come back in five minutes
to treat their victim, when an arm would be freed, and to stop bugging them
during an operation.

Properly chided, DeSoto and Gage listened to a nagging curiosity about
the horror that had nearly killed them all. So they crawled and slid, and
crouch stepped over to the massive crater where the fuel fire rupture 
began. The earth there was still steaming, hot and dry. But the rust and black
stained dirt didn't burn their boot soles as they stepped around the gas 
utilities men quickly sawing off and capping the ragged ends of the aviation 
fuel pipeline.

Just then, a fire department light tower snicked on overhead and illuminated
the lunar like landscape. Roy and Johnny just gaped. The hole they were
standing in was about the size of a parking lot and the gas men, were like
ants inside the massive blast funnel the explosions had left behind.

Humbled, they quickly returned back to the rescue scene. 

------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
An arm never looked so good to Johnny as Chris's did when the arff
stepped aside to let them in. "Roy?"

"Here." said DeSoto, tossing him an I.V. infusion kit. "I'll get a BP
next. I can feel a brachial pulse."

Gage sighed and felt like he had dodged a bullet. "Then his profusion's
still real good."

"Looks like it. And nobody's seen any blood pools forming 
underneath him. That's a nice sign of things to come. Glad of it." 
DeSoto replied. Then he started blinking as he tore off strips of I.V.
tape. "Speaking of our happiness, we forgot something in all the 
excitement."

"What?" Gage said, kind of grumpy at being distracted from his work
of reaching around sharp pieces of metal and incumbering pipework
to find a listening spot for his sound probe an arff had lent him so he
could do better than just guess at a respiration rate.

"We forgot to get that clean agent gas information."

"Oh." Gage said, still concentrating. "Chet can get that. Can't you, Chet?"

"Sure." he said, lifting a radio to his lips. "HT-51-A clean room to IC1."

##Go ahead, HT-51.## Rorchek said with energy, still buoyed by his
recent news.

"What's the stuff Chris got into?"

##That? Oh, Joanne asked about it for you. It's 3M Novec 1230. It's
an inert carbon-based chemical that's absolutely safe for property, people, 
and the environment. It'll only exist outside those pressurized tanks for
five days. Then it decays to just nitrogen and oxygen.##

"Huh. To regular air?" Marco mused. "Boy, do I gotta read about this stuff."

But Johnny wasn't paying Lopez any attention. "Kelly, would you jus--!"
Gage snatched away the radio from Kelly in irritation. "...ask the right questions?!"
he said with clenched teeth.

"I'm not a paramedic." Chet shrugged, not offended.

Roy just smiled and dialed up the normal saline solution I.V., amused and
staying out of it.

"No, but I wish someday that you'd at least try to be." Johnny said.

"Is that a challenge?" Kelly asked, open mouthed. 

"No, a hypothetical." Gage replied emphatically to erase any ideas of grandeur
in him before they could become rooted. Then he thumbed the mic. "Chief,
specifically physical aspirant qualities. Any chance of drowning in the stuff?"

##None whatsoever. It looks like water, but doesn’t cause the damage normally 
associated with water because it contains no moisture. When it hits lung tissue,
it'll just evaporate. Its danger lies only in the air it displaces while active and
that's mainly why I was so worried earlier on during the rescue.##

"Thank you." Johnny said, setting down the radio. Then he picked it up again
as an afterthought. "Oh, by the way tell the doc his vitals signs are: BP.." and he
held out his radio to Roy.

"94 over 70." DeSoto chimed in.

And then Johnny pulled the radio back to his mouth. "Pulse 56, respirations
electronically seem to be eight but deep. We've yet to uncover his head."

##Sounds like he's sleeping.## They heard Joanne intone over the speaker.

"Being stuck in this claustrophobic room's a good reason to take a nap!"
Chet said loudly.

Marco smacked him.

##What?## Joe said. ##That was funny. And I'm grateful for all you're doing
for him. Ted out here's chaffing at the bit to get his hands on Chris but both
he and I know the regulations against family treating family. Isn't that right, Ted?##

Chet bit his lip, choking down laughter.

An arff interrupted him. "We got it, fellas!" said Al Martelli. 

A careful circle of firefighters slowly tipped the K-12 flower petalled
storage tank off of two large pieces of pipework that had boxed in Chris's
face. The mask of his scba, was shattered, and intact, but it was lying
near his shoulder, askew.

"Oh, h-hang on a second, chief. He's free." Gage said, thunking down
the HT onto the damp floor in his eagerness to get right in there up close 
and personal.

Roy DeSoto lightly rubbed a few knuckles into Chris's breast bone.
"Chris? Come on, wake up. Can you hear me?" he asked, nodding to
an arff to keep Rorchek's head still in careful C-spine immobility.

All the firefighters in the room could almost hear the bated breaths of
those listening in all over the airport through the radio. Even those working
in the morgue fell silent.

For a few seconds, nothing happened. Then Chris's face screwed up in
vague discomfort and he tried to speak. "Ugh.. is it out yet?" he croaked
with a dry throat.

Everyone cheered at the top of their lungs as Chris's caked eyes slowly
cracked open. Then he raised his I.V. free arm up and reached out a hand
for someone's radio. He said just four words. "Hi, dad. What's shaking?"

 ##Nothing any more. You slept right through it, son. Congratulations on
kicking a big dent into that huge behemoth of a fire. It made all the difference 
in the world in the end. How're you feeling?##

"Happy to be alive. Tell Hallie she owes me one big time."

---------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Roy watched as Ted and Johnny helped irrigate a fair sized burn on
Chris's right leg while he lay on a burn pack. He himself was getting his
wrist burn attended to by Dr. Brackett who showed as much skill at
painless salving and dressing as he always did. 

Joe had relented and let his youngest son fuss over his oldest now
that the critical phase of care giving was over. 

Johnny Gage had to take a little break from his official duties when
an ecstatically tearful Hallie gave him a great big hug of gratitude 
complete with a soggy wet, hard peck on the cheek once he had
gotten out of his contaminated uniform and into Red Cross donated 
ski wear.

Chris's face had started to bleed from unseen small cuts in the cold,
but he asked that the EMTs steering his stretcher stop a moment so
he could speak with his rescuers. "You know, I really appreciate 
everything that you guys did in there for me. I can't say I would've
done the same thing. That room's my new nemesis." he joked, belying
the healthy frown that sprouted on his bruised face.

Captain Stanley chuckled. "I'm just sorry it took a disaster to pull 
us all together into a really cohesive team."

"That would have happened anyway, sir." he said. "Firefighters are
brothers for life."

"Anytime, man. Anytime.." Kelly said, taking Chris's offered hand.

Chris sighed as one of his attendants fitted him with precautionary
oxygen, "So, where's my girl, huh?" he asked.

Hallie Green looked, for a moment, surprised.

But then, Chris picked up his head and looked beyond his blanketed
feet.

Sophie the fire dog, was waiting patiently in the snow a short distance
away, eagering awaiting one single command.

"Come here, girl." Chris said.

The dalmatian's cry of happiness as she sprang to his side, was joyous.

Together, Sophie and Chris wheeled off for a nearby warmed ambulance
and where Joanne Almstedt, with her full array of gear, was waiting for them.

"Who's hungry?" Gage asked, when somebody's stomach growled
quite audibly.

Everyone's hands went up.  

Hallie got over her conundrum misunderstanding when Joe Rorchek
stepped over to her side. "You haven't been forgotten. He knows
you would have worked yourself ragged before you let anything bad
happen to him. I know my son. And.. I know that he's secretly devoted
to you." said Joe.

"Chief.. I-I.."

The elder Rorchek held up a hand to shush her before she said something that
she regretted. "Here, let me prove it." he said, handing her an object. It was 
undefinable, melted and gray.

"What's this?" she said, taking it with barely veiled dislike. 

"Well," said Joe. "When Chris realized that you weren't in the clean room
when he woke up, he felt you were being...oh,... a little negligent."

Green's mouth fell wide open. "Chief! I was unconscious, and and.. and I
was being treated on your orders. And Dr. Brackett's.. Why I..."

Joe dropped the punning punchline. "Hallie.. He wanted me to give you the boot."

Next to him, Chet's eyes glazed over in sheer admiration. "Now that..
is what I call.. the mother of all jokes."

Captain Stanley could only nod, yes.

Kelly smirked. "Bet that's Chris's."     

"No bet." said Hank.
 
---------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
It was a little bit warmer that same night at the airport fire station.

Everybody was feeling different levels of energy compared to everyone else
over the dinner table. But as expected, all the food plates had been scraped
clean. Sophie, would have to do without.

Captain Stanley was well groomed, not at all interested in the local paper,
and analytical. "Well, I gotta tell ya. Things could have been a whole lot
worse."

Dr. Brackett piped up. "How do you figure? I'd say a sixty eight percent
fatality rate is rather high for an incident involving an entire airport population, 
wouldn't you agree?"

Joanne Almstedt pursed her lips around a hot mug of tea. "Can't judge
our disaster against anything, Kel." she mused."So many factors came
into play all at once that was...absolutely lethal from the first second.
A crashed Concorde travelling three hundred twelve miles an hour....
A ruptured fuel line the size and diameter of a sports car..."

Cap was bleak. "Fifty percent fire coverage."

"That's worse than a forest fire." Roy said, shocked.

"Yeah, and only nine percent foam. Even with all of our fire trucks pumping
it out all at once." Stoker added.

"Don't remind me." Stanley sulked vaguely. "I'm still thinking about that
middle airplane. What could we have done differently? What would have
been faster? So many people....just died." he whispered.

"It was big, Hank." Joe told him. "Bigger than all of us. I'm not going to say
the cliche but it's true. We're not gods. We can't control the weather."

"At least, not yet." said Kelly.

Everybody chuckled.

Nearby, a visiting R.N. Park Ranger Terri Blake and Morgan Wainwright
nursed like cappacinos. 

Blake's face became rosy as she tried to find the good in all the bad.
"So, who did survive yesterday?"

"Yeah, how about that boy we worked on, doc." Gage asked Dr. Brackett.

Kel looked up from glass of ice water and lime. "What boy?"

Johnny looked a little incredulous, surprised. "That cardiac arrest case
that Cap, and I and Roy and Al and Ted worked after we dug him out of
that luggage conveyer belt."

"I'm sorry, Johnny. At the time, I had three arrest cases being called in
by radio. I just don't remember the details."

"Or an outcome?" Al asked, almost disgusted, deeply effected. "Doc, 
that kid was special! I could feel it!" he insisted, angry.

Next to him, Rags Harris chilled him out by gripping his arm. "Easy, Martelli.
He's our guest."

Martelli immediately apologized. "I'm sorry, Dr. Brackett. I -- It's just that
I... really wanted to know how things turned out for Danny. You know what
I mean?"

Minisculely, Kel shook his head again that he didn't remember a Danny.

Terri Blake timidly asked. "Who's Danny? Someone from the incident?"

Al just closed his eyes.

Roy took in a deep breath as they all became very, very thoughtful.
"You know, it's hard sometimes. Somebody asks if a boy made it. 
Honestly, Terri, we truly... don’t remember. Often we never can learn
how things turn out in the end. After we leave a patient in the ER, or 
unless a family member contacts us to thank us for our help, we never..
know... what becomes of the patient. And if they don’t make it, well, then 
we read about it in the obits just like everyone else. It feels like... 
turning the TV off... fifteen minutes before the show is over."

----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
It was morning,... of the second day.

Sophie the dog yawned in shy playful nervousness as she stretch
bowed before the closed bunk room wing of the fire station.

Hallie eyed up Chris outside, as they left for a run to the coffee shop
for some refreshments. 

"For six?" Green said, stopping Chris before he got out the keys to
his car.

"Well, yeah. They're all still sleeping, aren't they? I mean, who are
we to kick out our foster folk when there's really nothing much for
us to do at the airport except babysit a bunch of new construction 
workers, hammering away."

"Huh." said Green, parking a butt cheek against his Mustang, GTE 
with spoilers.

"Hey, I just polished that.."

"Polished what?" Hallie asked, still thinking.

"Uhhhh.. never mind." Chris said.

Green sighed. "You know. You're right. It's gonna take what? Six
months to almost a year to rebuild MacArthur Airport?"

"At least." Rorchek said empathetically.

Hallie looked suddenly worried. "Does that mean we're out of a job?"

Chris's happy mood about the beautiful day, evaporated.

------------------------------------------------------------------------

Inside the absolutely quiet and pitch black 
sleeping wing, somebody's watch, was ticking. 

The gang of 51's was rising out of long period of slumber 
bordering on unconsciousness. 

Marco spoke up sleepily. "Five bucks if you find that
noise and kill it..." he mumbled from underneath his pillow.

"Not even for two hundred!" said Cap. "Ignore it like you
ignore me about how many times you suffer KP duty in
a row each week, back at home." Hank hissed, rolling 
back over to bury himself yet in another blanket.

"Cap," Marco said in a singsong protest. "That's not true."


The sounds of sheets irritating rustling, punctuated the silence.
"Well you never complain.." Stanley insisted. 

"Should I?" Lopez asked.

"Yes!" Kelly barked.

Somewhere outside, Sophie agreed with him vocally, instantly,
with a single bark back.

Sighing, still troubled by his experience, Mike Stoker sat up
softly in his bed, just to think. But he couldn't think.

There was something other than the watch, making noise.

"Hey, guys? What is that? Their plumbing?" he wondered.

Chet sat up, too, sleepily scratching his head. He peered
about with sensitive eyes that reacted even with the lack of
any light in the room.  He looked right, seeing nothing out
of order. 

Then he looked left. 

"Hey..." he said. "Johnny's bed hasn't been slept in. It's still
made up." he yawned.

Lopez answered. "That's because he and that saucy redhead
pilot were up all night talking."

"Oh, yeah? Where are they? They weren't downstairs when I
went down earlier for a snack." Cap mumbled.

"I know where they are, guys." Roy said.

"Do tell. I'm stymied here." Kelly whined.

DeSoto just sighed. "In Confession."

"Where?"

"In . There ." Roy said, pointing to Joe's private bunk room.
"That's what they call it. A place where they talk when the office
seems a little too intimidating for disciplinary actions. Al told me
about it last night. Or was that yesterday?"

Muffled disturbances and high and low pitched 
murmuring could be heard, becoming louder and louder.

Marco started snickering and the others chimed in.

All except Chet. 

"Boy, sounds like they're having fun.." Cap yawned, bored.

"Having a real party.." Roy agreed, rolling back over to sleep.

"That's no party." said Stoker, smiling.

"It's not?" Kelly asked.

"NoOOOoo." said Cap. "G*d, are you dense."

Kelly was not enjoying being sleepy and grumpy.
"Well, how am I supposed to know what that is? 
Sounds like war going on."

"Ah, Chet." Roy just nodded knowingly, as he smirked and re-rested 
his head back down onto an elbow. "I think I'll just leave that little 
mystery, up to your overactive imagination."

Beyond the strictly confidential fire house door, buried in soft pillows,
in the buff,...with no blankets, Morgan and Johnny were the very picture, 
of togetherness.

-----------------------------------------------------------------

FIN

Movie One, The Fire Within
Episode Fifty Two

by Patti Keiper, NREMT-B/SEO  

2009.

--------------------------------------------------------

Photo:  Joanne looking thoughtful up close.

Photo:   An old man being rolled over to clear an airway.

Photo:   A very large gas line explosion hole and damage.

Photo:   Ted Rorchek lying unconscious on the ground, being held.

Photo:    Sophie the dalmatian sitting in the snow.

Photo:    Gage, wearing ski gear, being hugged by Hallie.

Photo:    R.N. Terri Blake, in street clothes.

Photo:    Chris and Hallie funning with each other, outside on a nice day.

Photo:    Marco, Chet and Stoker, sleeping in dark bunks, overhead.

Photo:    Morgan and Johnny Gage having a roll in the hay.
 

@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@
 
To see video trailers about this Emergency movie story

http://www.voyagerliveaction.com/movieonetrailer.html
For Part One

http://www.voyagerliveaction.com/movieonetrailer2.html
For Part Two
 
   
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