The Story Unfolds...
Season Two, Episode Sixteen..
§§ Devil's Due §§ Debut
Launch: 1 November 2004.
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From : Champagne Scott <chameleonkate@hotmail.com> Sent : Wednesday, November 3, 2004 6:35 PM
Subject : [EmergencyTheaterLive] The Cooped Up Cage Jitters..
"Man, I am soooo bored.."
sighed Johnny Gage as he emptied the waste paper basket in the wire bin onto the couch for the fourteenth
time, to retrieve the wadded up paper balls that he had been arching into it from various distances
around the rec room.
He chose a place from over by the strategies chalk board as his next launching
point. As usual, Bonnie, the Boston Terrier watched Gage with intense doggy puzzlement, half torn
between trying to chase the flying overhand tosses, or not to.
"Careful, Johnny." said Roy
DeSoto, intently reading the stocks section of the newspaper. "You just may jinx us." he said rubbing
his nose. The fair haired paramedic looked up when Marco Lopez set another full mug of coffee
down in front of him. "Thanks, Marco."
"How can I jinx us? The rain's already doing that for us.."
Gage complained, finally missing a basket. He jerked a restless head out the window where the blinds
were retracted to let in some feeble gray tinged daylight to offset the flourescent bulbs in the
ceiling to show the others, that the steady downpour that had started when their weekend began, was
still with them.
Chet Kelly ambled into the rec room, still yawning from a short nap that had
turned surprisingly into a long one. He was still disoriented and rumpled. "Ack,...how many tones
calls did I miss? I woke up and I found you guys were gone and the beds were already made."
Mike
Stoker calmly intercepted Chet's trajectory toward the coffee pot on the stove in the kitchen and
redirected him before he cracked a sleepy shoulder into the wall by the payphones. "A big fat zero,
Chet. Open your eyes before you give Roy and Johnny something to do, all right? Your higher motor
skills are still out to lunch."
Chet got to the stove safely, then he peered at his watch, eyeballing
the time. "Holy cow. Five pm Saturday? I slept for fifteen hours?!"
"Yep. And we enjoyed every
minute of the resulting peace and quiet, too." said Johnny, as he kept up his basket making shots
with the paper wads.
"It wasn't for that full time, Chet. I admit I snuck in there around one
last night to feel for a pulse on ya. You were lying so still that you were scaring Bonnie.." Roy
admitted.
"Arf!" said the diminuitive Boston. She caterwauled a few happy whines and then
she skidded across the floor on slippery running claws to go trapse around Kelly's stocking socked
feet in an enthusiastic welcome.
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"Geesh, you think Bonnie thought I was away forever, man." said Kelly, rubbing the sleepers out of
his eyes.
"Wish it had been forever, Chet. That'd make my working life just a bit more tolerable."
Johnny grinned, looking at the other guys for brownie points.
No one bothered to participate.
"Oh, ha ha, Gage. Very funny. I won't even go into how I feel about having you as a working bud."
said Kelly, gulping his coffee down despite its boiling temperature in order to wake up faster.
"Kelly! Where are your shoes?!" admonished Cap, arriving from the vehicle bay with his journal log
book. Coffee was on his mind. For he stole Roy's outright and started sipping while he glared at Chet's
feet.
"Uh,.." he said looking around sleepily, " Ehheh. Right where I left em?" he replied
meekly.
"Go put them on. Then its another session with the manikin for all of us in ten minutes.."
Hank frowned. Then he turned on his heels and retreated back into his office.
Gage gave up
the shooting game and pulled up a chair from the table, reversed it, and then sat down on its back
edge with his feet on the seat support. He studied the direction Cap had gone analytically, not
smiling. "Has he always been such a task master during slow shifts?"
"Yes.." replied Marco,
Chet, Roy, and Stoker, all at the same time.
Even Bonnie barked.
"Count your blessings,
Johnny boy. We could be cleaning every inch of the station instead." Marco admitted.
"Nah,
we did that yesterday. Remember?" Chet said. "Or was that the day before?" Kelly frowned, remembering
his long coma of a nap.
Johnny didn't hear them. "We've retrieved that Annie from the roof,
under the engine, we worked her code, splinted every limb, probed every inch of her, and now he wants
us to run another scenario? What have we got left to do now?"
"An OB case.." supplied Roy, not
looking up from his newspaper.
"Ohh ho.. lucky us.. Let's hope it's just another obstructed airway
with a broken neck scenario or maybe even a femur fracture exercise." Gage said unenthusiastically,
setting his chin onto a palm. "I hate getting powder on my hands from pulling that doll baby free."
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Still ansy, he got up and walked over to the payphone. He picked up the receiver, listened on the
line for a moment. Then he hung up and walked back to sit back down at the table.
"What'dya
do that for?" asked Chet.
"Just...checking for a dial tone. You know how these winter rains
sometimes knock out a repeater or broadcast tower. If I didn't hear one, we'd have the perfect reason
for why we've been so dead on business for the last past two days."
"A repeater failure wouldn't
effect a payphone, Johnny." said Roy. "They're hard wired underground and wouldn't be effected
by it."
Johnny got defensive because he was embarrassed that his telecommunications knowledge
wasn't as good as Roy's. "Well then how ELSE do you explain the fact that we haven't gotten a single
run, for anybody, since early Friday morning?"
Roy lowered his paper and grinned. "The law of
averages..." he said, squinting meaningfully. "The means balance out the extremes eventually."
Johnny's face twisted in incomprehension that made the other guys chuckle from whereever they
were.
Gage scooped up Bonnie and started massaging her head for some moral support. But the
Boston Terrier wormed her way out of his grip to go follow Chet on his actively searching mission
to relocate his shoes.
"Gage, did you-?" Kelly asked from where he was checking out the space
underneath the leather couch.
"I didn't touch your shoes. How could I? They were on your feet
the whole time you were sleeping." Gage answered.
"They were? Oh, ok. Then I think I know where
they are now then. Thanks, pal." and he jogged out of the kitchen.
Lopez said, "You actually
helped Chet out of a bind? What's the matter with you, Johnny, you sick or something?"
"Yeah,
I'm sick. I'm sick and tired of being cooped up in this joint for forty eight straight hours with
absolutely nothing better to do. Especially with you guys. It's worse than a high school lock in
party."
"Welll.. " commented Roy. "You could always stop drinking coffee. So far you've inhaled
three whole pots just by yourself in a little under three hours. That might explain the feelings of
claustrophobia and anxiety you're suffering."
"Roy,.." complained Johnny. "You're such a.......a....
paramedic sometimes, you know that?" Gage said pointed an animated finger at his quiet partner.
"All true. And you're such an interesting case study in the mis- management of a potentially healthy
lifestyle that I just haveta keep right on analyzing ya." DeSoto said, leaning back and stretching
in his chair.
"Well, stop it. If and when I do get addicted to caffeine, I'll be the first
person to let ya know about it."
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"You just did, with all that pacing and abundant running commentary. Why else would you have such
a nasty track record when it comes to your on the job injuries frequency rate?" debated DeSoto easily.
"You know, I think I'm gonna go take the squad into Rampart on a supply run. By myself.." Gage
said, leaving the kitchen area.
"What about that session with Annie the manikin coming up?!"
Stoker needled, thoroughly enjoying the sniping banter.
"She can go stuff herself!" came Gage's
voice out of the vehicle bay.
He almost collided with Chet, coming back towards the kitchen
replete in his newly found squeaky shoes.
Roy got up with a sigh and followed after his partner
so that they wouldn't get separated. "I'd better go with him. He might get strange ideas and
want to drive the squad or something."
"Nothing wrong with that. Go ahead and let him. Then when
he plows you two into a telephone pole, that'd give the rest of us guys an engine run to go on."
Chet said mildly.
"I'd rather let Annie drive.." Roy said plainly, the smile wiping off his face
as he accented the statement with a finger jamming Chet's chest.
"Better hurry up, Roy.. I think
I hear the door opening up." Marco offered helpfully.
Roy got into the squad with Johnny, passing
by Cap's closed office door without incident or interception from him. He decided to not announce
their supply run to L.A. until they were out of sight of the station. He turned the wheel of the
rescue truck into the slightly lighter rain soaked western sky, towards Torrance and Rampart, and
they drove off together.
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Roy chuckled. "That was brilliant, Johnny.. I knew acting irritated and wired loudly enough would
cause Cap to let us leave to go on an unnecessary supply run."
"I wasn't acting.." Johnny said
through pursed lips.
Roy began to watch Johnny more than he did the road the whole trip into
the ER.
He only hoped that happenings there would keep Johnny entertained long enough to
survive his excessive java intake symptomology. ::A huge fire will dry him out like a prune if he
doesn't come down from it before we get a call for one.:: he thought.
He decided to temper
Johnny's jitters against the only person who could tame them. On Dixie. --------------------------------------------------------------
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******************************************************************* Date: Thu, 4 Nov 2004 21:08:01
+0000 (GMT) From: "Katherine Bird" <kathbird01@yahoo.co.uk> Subject: The Other Department...
Dixie McCall sized up Johnny Gage in about two seconds when they were still over thirty
feet away from the Emergency Room front desk. She leaned over to the two guests visiting with her
and mumbled. "Ok, you two officers are looking for something to do, right? How about keeping a
couple of bored firemen out of my hair while I get some charting done? That way, I won't have both
public service departments breathing down my neck at the same time." she said to her charming companions.
"The worst of this pair is gonna be from the dark haired one. I don't have to be a doctor to know
that he's been sucking down the Sumatran Dark a little too much lately."
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Reed chuckled, glancing back at his partner Malloy. "He sounds like the Sarge on slow days, Dixie.
What's his name?"
"Johnny Gage, Jim. Just get ready. He'll be an earful. Excuse me..." the
demure nurse said, turning her back and pretending to organize the rescue reel to reel recordings
next to the pharmaceutical cupboard.
"Howdy, fellas." said Pete Malloy to the two approaching
paramedic firemen. He waved a greeting with the antennae of his HT which looked very much like
the ones Roy and Johnny carried with them, dangled around their jacketted wrists.
Gage actually
turned a circle in his tracks, thinking the dark uniformed police officer was speaking to someone
else. "Oh, you mean us, hi officer. Uh, officers.." he amended, dipping his head. "How are the streets
faring today?"
Roy deviated his arrival time and went over to the chrome drinking fountain
alcove for a sip of cold water.
"We've been absolutely hopping, hose jockey." Reed lied. "Please,
call me Jim. This is my partner Pete. How are the firecalls going today?"
Johnny sighed, trying
to look over the two officer shoulders to get Dixie's attention. "They aren't. We haven't heard a
peep over the intercom except for a wakeup call test, since Friday night. I'm Johnny Gage and
that camel sucking down the water over there is Roy DeSoto. We're both paramedics with th--"
"We
know. We get to clean up after you folks all the time." Pete beamed.
Johnny didn't quite know
how to take that comment so he changed the subject. "Hi Dix.." he said, arcing up onto his toes to
see her better.
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Malloy and Reed tightened the gap between their shoulders so Johnny wouldn't be able to nudge through.
Gage frowned and couldn't figure out why he was doing so.
Roy immediately caught on and he
started to laugh. "Johnny. Don't you recognize a couple of body guards when you see them? Jim and
Pete are running interference.."
"Oh, really.." Johnny said, his voice getting a little less cordial.
"Yes, really." said Dixie, turning around with an empty I.V. box full of sound recorded clear
plastic tape reels. "Thanks Pete. Thanks Jim, for trying. But I'll handle him from here."
"No
problem. Thanks for the coffee, ma'am. It went down swell." said Jim. "We gotta go. We're on a break
from a stake out assignment. A pair of detectives are covering for us while we're on lunch."
"No kidding." Roy said. "Are you gonna get the bad guy?"
"Yeah, mostly likely before sundown.
Snipers usually give up by then because of poor target visibility." replied Pete.
"Snipers?!"
jolted Johnny. "We didn't hear anything about a shooting spree going on..."
"That's because
we've been very good at not alarming the general public about this character. So far, he's only
taken a couple of pot shots at our squad car lights and a few park squirrels. No one's been hurt yet."
Jim Reed answered Gage.
"Ooo, stay safe out there guys." said McCall. "And give these donuts
to those two covering for you. I can't stand police types who decide their work's more important than
their stomachs." she said, shoving over a box of them across the desk counter. Johnny made a grab
for the lid but Dixie slapped his hand away. "Ah, ah ah. You two already had your lunch."
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"How can you tell?" asked Roy mildly.
"Johnny's got mustard on his chin and you still have potato
chip salt on your shirt." she grinned, handing over the pastries to the Adam-12 pair. "See ya
fellas.."
"Later, Dix.." they replied, walking out the ER door entrance to return to their
beat.
Roy and Gage got the chills. "Now I know why I became a fireman." DeSoto said, refusing
Dixie's silent offer of coffee.
"Oh? Why's that?" asked the frosted bunned nurse.
"Police
work's just far too dangerous to monkey with. Joanne made me promise years ago that I'd never consider
becoming one."
"Now firefighting's just as dangerous as police work, Roy." said Gage.
"Not really. At least with firefighting. You can see the danger coming and can avoid it." said Roy.
"Usually." Johnny agreed finally.
"Not in your case, Johnny Gage." replied Dixie, wide eyed."You've
been banged up what? Six times already this past year. And I'm not counting the monkey virus
nor that snake bite. Those were unavoidable consequences."
"In who's book, Dix?" Roy teased.
"Not misplacing an HT could've prevented that bite and wearing a pair of rubber gloves could have
made all the difference in the world whether or not that contagion took a hold."
"Now,
Roy. Don't start in with that scene safety first and that body substance isolation lecture again
with all that unnecessary glove wearing and stuff. I tell ya, adding those as permanent changes to
our paramedic protocols is never gonna wash. I mean, that's like saying the art of mouth to mouth
resuscitation's gonna become passe. Not in a million--"
"Don't you get sick of getting all
sticky and soiled head to toe on runs all the time?" Roy said, folding his arms over his elbows mildly
in conversation.
"Well, yeah, sometimes it gets a little annoying changing out uniforms so
often. I only got four sets.." he grunted in consternation.
"This topic of conversation's absolutely
rivetting gentlemen, but I've got charts stacking up higher than my-"
"Sure, Dix. We were just
leaving.." Roy said, grabbing Johnny's arm. "We only wanted an excuse to get out of the station for
a while. Cabin fever don't you know." he grinned toothily.
Gage protested the whole way back
to the squad. "Now, Roy. We could've at least grabbed a cup of coffee.." he growled. "That wasn't
polite leaving her in the lurch like that."
"She wanted us to, Johnny. Didn't you get any of
the hints thrown our way?"
"Uh, what hints? I'm so wired I'm surprised I'm even seeing straight."
Johnny coughed.
"Then aren't you glad I got us out here again." Roy said, opening the door
for his partner and guiding his back inside the squad. "Coffee's the last thing you need."
"Well,
how about a chili dog at Max's? I'm starving.." Johnny said, putting on his helmet.
"Max's
it is.." Roy conceded, getting behind the wheel. "You're paying."
"Why am I paying? I thought
I bought lunch for us both last time!"
"No you didn't. Your forgot your wallet at home. I-It ..it
was the same morning you broke both your shoelaces.." DeSoto said, thrusting a finger out in a
telling gesture.
"Oh, yeah. Last Thursday. I always remember when I break my shoelaces."
"So
do I. Because I'm the one who always has to hand ya some replacements." Roy complained. "Geesh, I'm
getting jittery and I haven't even had more than ONE cup of coffee.."
"Want me to drive then?"
Johnny said obliviously.
"No."
"Then buy us lunch and I'll shut up. Both actions'll be
good for your nerves." he told Roy, closing the maneuvering trap, that he'd been calculating and laying
down to spring upon DeSoto, all the way to Rampart.
Roy sighed a sigh of long suffering, feeling
black. "All right. But I get a little peace and quiet starting right--"
Beep! Beep! Beep! ##Squad
51. Stand by for a response. L.A. P.D. requests paramedic backup at the corner of LaMont and Shelby.
Details to follow en route.##
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"Here we go!" hooted Johnny. "And we got one before the engine! I win that bet, too. The guys haveta
fix the dinner chow for us now and not the other way around. Wa...Hoo."
"Wait a minute! Johnny,
you got me involved in a chore bet that I didn't even know about?"
Johnny nodded animatedly,
eyes twinkled and bright. "And we won. Doesn't it feel great?"
DeSoto glared at him for long
seconds and then he let out a long resigned sigh. "Silence is golden, huh.." Roy mumbled to himself
as he turned the squad around from the hospital pull up and flicked on the red lights over their
heads. "Why am I the only one who treasures that?"
"What?"
"Nothing. Put your helmet
on."
"Oh. ok." said Johnny a little too fast and it took a few tries for him to fasten on
the chin strap properly.
"You sure you don't need some Narcan or something?" Roy asked aloud.
Johnny gave him a dirty look. "I'm fine. This adrenaline rush I got from finally getting a call'll
burn off all the coffee. Thanks for caring about me, pally. " he said sarcastically. "But no thanks."
"Suit yourself. And I'm going to be starting any I.V.s that might come up so ya won't be in
danger of poking yourself."
"Fine." and Johnny clammed up, reaching for the notepad to scribble
down the tentative neighborhood address they needed to reach. "I'll do the easy stuff just to please
ya and to keep Cap on an even keel about me sneaking us off like this. He can't yell if I don't
do anything wrong."
"And they say never to say MacBeth right before a performance." whispered
Roy.
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Dave was running full tilt, as fast as his blue and white Adidas could carry him after the man
running away from him. His blued Smith & Wesson was out and pointed up to the sky in his right
hand as he pounded the alley he was chasing through.
Ken had the red unmarked car with the
red flashing dome light on top speeding right on his heels.
"Metford! Give it up! We got ya
surrounded!" Dave bellowed around painful sucking gasps of air that he pumped in and out of his chest
as he leaped over the trash in his way and around obstacles.
"Never copper!" said the man,
turning and firing back from behind a telephone pole.
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Ken angled the car sideways and flung open a car door for his partner to hide behind as the bullets
riccocheted off the tin garbage cans around them.
Three shots from the sniper ex con spidered
the windshield, making Ken duck and swear. "Oh, man..! Not another window bill!"
"It could've
been the paint job, buddy boy. Quit complaining." said Dave to Ken as he curled up behind the cardoor.
"Thanks for getting me some cover."
"I wouldn't've had to if you hadn't gone off after the
guy when you knew he was armed to the hilt." spat Ken.
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"Yeah, but that was only because I know Metford likes taking hostages. We're already too near the
college campus to make me comfortable."
"If Metford was gonna take pot shots at the students,
he would've done so already, partner. Not just singed the hair off a few squirrels."
"Yeah
well I don't like anything parallelling up to the Watch Tower Massacre of 1970. That day still leaves
a real bad taste in my mouth." Dave shored up a line of sight across the open window rim of the
door with a primal scream of frustration and he let loose a volley of shots that soon ended those
winging back at them. He thought he heard the sound of a body hitting concrete. "Got him!"
"Get
in and I'll get us there." shouted Ken, peeling the rubber of the red car in a squeal.
Dave
dove into the back seat and slammed the door shut as Ken smashed over a rack of garbage cans to get
them there faster.
Ken and Dave both threw the dome flashing car into park and dashed out
of the car after divesting it of her keys in the direction they thought their shooter had gone in.
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Dave puffed to a halt and went instantly pale as he neared the spot that had echoed the sound of
collapse they had both heard. "Oh, g*d, no." he groaned, rushing forward to crouch over someone lying
in the scraps of paper and newsprint littering the alleyway.
It was a woman, with a fresh gush
of blood coursing down her left temple.
He dropped his gun in disgust after engaging its safety
to reach gingerly for the young woman's carotid while Ken jogged a careful check around them looking
for Metford.
"He got away. D*mm*t!" Ken swore. Then he turned to crouch near his shaking partner.
"I shot her, Hutch. Ohmygod." said the curly haired detective.
"Who's to say that's a gunshot
wound, Starsky? Quit snowballing things. This girl was around the corner so how could your shots've
been anywhere near enough to score on her? Metford could have done it just to get us to stop chasing
him."
"There's enough metal around here t--"
"Shh.. Is she breathing?" Hutch asked, reaching
for the still woman's wrist.
"Uh,.."
"Tip her head back, without jarring her neck and
have a listen. I'll go call for an ambulance. She's still alive. Do you hear me Starsky? She's
alive. Do what you can to help her." Ken Hutchinson shouted.
Kenneth leaped toward the white striped
tomato Gran Torino and snatched up the radio mic. "Zebra 3. Zebra 3 to Headquarters. We've a woman
down in the alley at...." he looked around for roadsigns."...6th and Parsons. Over. We've lost Metford!
Roll all units in a point by point to grid search for him immediately!"
Nearly under the sheltering
bumper of the white striped red orange car, the other plain clothes detective was almost crying. "Sweety?
Can you hear me? Hang in there. We've got help on the way. Just hold on. I've got you." begged a very
frightened David Starsky.
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Starsky felt a very poor answering gasp brush his cheek out of the girl's lips and he gripped her
head even tighter when an unnatural blue shade began covering her face.
"No..don't die on
me, miss. Come on.." and he began to give her fast breaths mouth to mouth to turn back some of the
lifeless coloring he saw in her skin and eyes. "Hutch! Get down here and help me stop all this
scalp bleeding. She's not trying to breathe for me anymore."
It wasn't long before Squad 51 heard
from L.A. about the woman down from a possible shooting.
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**************************************************************** From : Roxy Dee <laterrapincabesa@hotmail.com>
Sent : Friday, November 12, 2004 3:03 AM Subject : Starsky Stresses
Hutch reached
into the back seat of the Torino and grabbed up his black street clothes duffle bag and tossed
it onto the roof of the car. He snatched out a folded T shirt that lay within and ran with it back
over to his partner working on the girl. "Ok, I got this.." he said, pressing the shirt gently
against the gushing wound on her temple.
Starsky gave the woman another breath and the last of
the dusky cyanosis on her face disappeared a few seconds later. "Her heartbeat's real slow, Hutch."
"I noticed that. Just keep going." Ken said. "Metford was here. She's been roughed up. There's
bruising on her throat."
"A hostage who fought back?" Dave said after his next breath.
"Probably. This doesn't look like a penetrating bullet wound or even a graze. There's no friction
burns."
"Let's hope so or .............Captain Dobey's gonna kill me..............Temporarily
blinding one girl once with a bullet was ........................definitely enough for me partner."
Quite suddenly, the girl gasped through her unconsciousness, as if breaking through a resistance.
Startled, Dave let go of her face. Then he caught hold of himself emotionally and started carefully
relifting her jawbone so that the girl could breathe freely. "Hello. She's back.." he blurted out
in his nervousness.
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"Good job." Hutch reached a hand around Starsky's to a neck pulse that wasn't under a bruise. "Pulse's
still very slow."
"How's that bleeding?"
"I've got it controlled. She isn't losing any
more."
"From there..." Starsky snorted.
"Yeah, well, the paramedics can figure out her
other problems once they get here. Just keep up that airway hold."
"You don't have to tell
me twice.." Dave said empathetically. "Hey, miss.. Can you hear me?"
The woman twitched and
started to moan, breathing shallowly but well.
"Easy, hon. Don't try to move." said Hutchinson.
Welcoming sirens grew in the distance and the two plain clothes detectives could make out the
familiar red outline of a Los Angeles County Fire Department rescue squad heading into their direction
from the side street. They saw its front tires thunk over the slight curve leading into the alleyway
once they spotted the Torino and its red flashing light. They were aided on where to go by one
or two officers in front of L.A. City black and whites starting to cordon off the area with crime
tape.
"G*d I hope they remember their crime scene approach protocols.." mumbled Starsky.
The driver of the rescue vehicle followed the Torino's direction of travel and skid marks perfectly.
"He has.." smiled Hutch. "At least this pair's smart enough not to disturb anything." he raised
his voice. "She's breathing now! Semi conscious.." he yelled out to them. "So far, possible head
and neck injury! We think she was in a struggle."
The two detectives watched as the paramedics
gathered medical equipment that matched the situation, the 02 apparatus, defib and EKG, a wooden
long board and C collar, along with their usual biophone, drug and I.V. boxes.
The two paramedics
hugged the chain link fence tightly, off the beaten track, until they were even with the Torino, then
they cut over to the woman's side.
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Johnny Gage immediately knelt down with a pen light after setting a high flow oxygen mask over her
nose and mouth which Starsky held on manually. "Hi. I'm Johnny Gage and this is my partner Roy
DeSoto." he said to the two police officers.
"Detective Ken Hutchinson.. Homicide. And my fretting,
pale friend over there is Detective David Starsky. Also with Homicide." he teased, trying to
make his partner more at ease with it all. "And we're trying to prevent another one here in the girl."
Gage nodded. "I assume we're all safe now..and that we're not about to get our heads shot off
by some crazed thug type?" Johnny asked quickly.
At that comment Dave cringed slightly, a
subconscious gesture that only Hutch saw. "We're safe.." Starsky said quietly. "There's enough
cops around here now to fill a barn."
"Ok. Just checking. Gimme some history on her, Detective.
But keep her head still just like you're doing." he ordered Starsky.
"We think she was roughed
up by a real low life with a history of violence who was trying to get away from us. She may have
been in the middle of our exchanging gunfire."
"Male or female assailant?" Gage asked reasonably.
"Does it matter?! Just help her fellas. Fast." Dave flared sarcastically, his adrenaline rush
still making him jittery.
"It could. And we are." said Roy calmly. "Just take it easy. What you're
doing is making a huge difference on how she's managing now. But a few questions answered will
let us provide care that targets her medical problems quicker. So humor us a bit ok. She's stable
now from what I can tell so far." he said, taking a quick respiration count with a hand on her
stomach.
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Johnny waggled his head in agreement as he slipped a cervical collar around the girl's neck after
a brief examination of the bruising Hutch pointed out to him that was now taking the shape of a large
man's finger grips. "It was a man. She's been strangled. And this head wound's probably the result
of her being pistol whipped." he said, briefly lifting up the shirt Hutch was holding over her left
temple.
Starsky sighed in relief. "You sure about that?"
"Pretty sure.." Johnny said,
smiling. "An x-ray will tell that for certain. There's no bullet path cratering. I can see the edge
of a gun grip's impression on her skull where the skin's torn... Roy, negative on Coon's eyes
or cerebral fluid out the nose or ears. Hmm, her pupils are equal, but sluggish."
"Late hypoxia?
I'll ask Rampart if we can hyperventilate her with that possible meningeal artery involvement.." he
said pointing to the wound on the girl's head. "Dave, you can let go now. She's maintaining ok on
her own and the collar'll keep her head and neck still. Dave? Did you hear me?" Roy said a little
louder.
"He answers better to Starsky.." Hutch said, slapping a free hand against the dazed
detective's arm. "Starsk.."
"Huh? Oh, ok." said Starsky, finally catching up on the conversation.
He reluctantly let the girl go, and used part of Hutch's T shirt compress to wipe the girl's drying
blood off of his hands. "Sorry. I was...just thinking.."
"Yeah, about the ways we're gonna
nail the b*st*rd who hurt her." said Hutch.
"So right.." admitted the curly haired detective.
"Uh,, she wasn't breathing so hot when we got to her. Her face turned kinda blue."
"For how
long?" Johnny asked, rechecking the flow of oxygen to her mask for a good seal.
"Half a minute
or so. I had to help her out for a few minutes. Then all of the sudden, she sorta gasped ...like she
only just then, caught her breath back." Dave said, trying to explain it well.
Roy grinned.
"She probably got the wind knocked out of her. Happens sometimes when victims are shoved to the ground
hard enough by an attacker. "
"What about the strangling?" Hutch wondered. "Could that have
caused her to quit trying?"
"Most likely not. You said this man was running to get away from
you. He wouldn't have had time enough to suffocate her."
"And that is why her pulse's so slow."
Gage added, taking a blood pressure."Roy, 64/40. Pulse's 42. Respirations still 18. Her carotid
sinus must've been contused."
"Say what?" asked Starsky.
Johnny began to explain while
Roy started cutting off the woman's sweater and pants. Both detectives averted their eyes and looked
around anywhere but down in typical bystander self consciousness.
DeSoto noticed. "Here, cover
her with this shock sheet once I'm through. I'm just gonna look her over in a fast check for other
injuries she might have."
He saw the detectives relax once he was through and had her bundled
up again, neck to toes, in the plastic blanket.
Gage went on.." .....the whole area inside the
carotid artery along the side of the neck's richly innervated with the sensory bundles that regulate
the body's blood pressure so that it doesn't have wild swings one way or the other. Now hers has
been injured on one or both sides and that has brought on vasovagal responses, that slow heart rate
you felt and the low B/P we're getting on her now."
"I see.." said Starsky, clearly not understanding
the jargon. "But she will get over it?" he pressed.
"Eventually." Roy said of the carotid sinus
syncope syndrome.
Starsky smiled in relief.
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Gage rubbed his chin. "...It also depends on what her head injury involves, too. That laceration
of hers is very large."
Starsky's grin turned into a frown as he sagged in relief into Hutch's
arms. "At least she wasn't shot. Namely by me. Oh, Hutch. I don't think I could've lived through that
again. Thank heavens for small mercies."
Both paramedics exchanged puzzled looks but then they
politely ignored the detectives' private conversation while they got busy with the rest of the woman's
patient care.
All four of them heard a light cough and right then, the woman's eyes fluttered
open.
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