Kelly's face fell out of concentration and his initial self assuredness dropped away. "I don't
know man. I - I got the right chemicals here.. I know I do.. I've been eating sleeping and dreaming
these mathematical formulas for days now."
Suddenly a pair of calm hands came between the
men and locked off the settings Chet had chosen on the fire retardant soup to the hoses and Mike
Stoker's voice said. "You tell your captain to call in the foam truck for a protective covering
spread, Chet." His fingers danced over the dials of the engine in a ballet of familiarity. "From
what I feel here, you did everything right. Give them the go ahead. This was sort of a trick situation
they mapped out for you. It's not in the book. Just remember foam with fuel and fire."
Chet's
face was a mix of emotions as he lifted his HT to his lips. "Engine 51 to HT 51. Hoses one and
two are set and locked. Foam 127. Move in to assist from the...." Chet paused as he rechecked the
wind direction with a moistened finger,.."north side of the fire. You are committed.."
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Charlie, and Mike, who was still eyepatched tightly, both smiled when Kelly said everything according
to procedure. Even Cap, on Chet's place at a hose nodded appreciably before he turned back to
fight the fire.
Mike said, "Turn down your master valve two points. Your left hose sounds kinda
hissy.. That one's not getting enough psi because your supply's been split off. Must be because
the engine's not quite on level ground. Flows faster on the downhill side always."
Kelly squinted
into the dials and wiped grime off the dial in question. "Man.. what ears.. You're right. Two points
off my percentage setting. I thought we had the lock down legs on the plates planted perfectly
man. I thought we were ON a level."
"This whole valley's tilted. You had no way of knowing
that. I'm just remembering the pitch angle from my head."
"Terrif.. Way to burst my bubble,
Stoker." Charlie ribbed. "And here we all thought you were a miracle dowser through and through."
"Ok, I'm compensating....now.." Kelly said. Chet and Charlie hauled on Mike's arm to get him back
against the safety of the truck to prevent him from getting a painful bang on the shins when Johnny's
team's firehose bucked at Chet's minor adjustment to it.
"Thanks guys.." Mike said, feeling
for the cab door. He opened it so he could sit inside to keep the excited Boot company.
Atkins
had his own advice. "Chet, do this too, whenever you make an adjustment or you'll be black and
blue before you know it." Charlie felt around with a foot in the standing runoff water until
he had one shoe pinning down the main hose as the men worked to put out the mockup fire in both
the semi vehicle and the test building. "Just like this. These hoses are like live animals whenever
anyone rounds a corner in there or shuts off a spray or two to move to another hotspot. You won't
see any of that. But your legs will sure make a note of it. Directly standing on these puppies
will give you plenty of warning about a buck."
Mike said, " Yeah, that's a good pointer. Now
Kelly, I want you to watch the wind and how all the hoses' fanning water may be getting diverted.
I can't tell what it's doing by the sound. If you see the guys' jackets getting dry more than
the water's cooling them off, turn up the psi and the chemical mix rate until 90% of the hose
charge is getting onto target, that'll buy them more time on their SCBA's since they won't breathe
as fast then due to overheating. A trick I learned is to get progress reports from each team,
every five minutes about hose patency. Listen to how they're breathing over the HT and that will
give you clues too as to how well you're controlling their water supply based on need. They
won't tell you if they're in trouble that way since things are steaming in a fire anyway."
Kelly's
face fell open in surprise as he kept his lightly ace wrapped hands on the master pressure dial
valve and watched the effect of the daylight wind over the whole scene before him. "So that's why
you keep bugging us when we enter new fire hotspots.."
"Yep.." Mike grinned.
Charlie
even looked abashed. "You know, Stoker. I've been engineer at 110's for five years and that monitoring
trick is certainly new to me.."
"That one's not in the book either.. I adapted it from watching
Johnny and Roy work on people. The higher the breathing rate is on anybody, the more trouble
they're in. It's a dead giveaway. Works for working firefighters who aren't in medical trouble
too."
"You know, Stoker? When you finally get back on the job, I'm trying out your little
trick at home on the guys, at the next fire. I've always wondered why our station's SCBA fill rates
were so high. Now I know why.. The men were too hot while working!" Charlie groused.
Chet
and Mike laughed.
Mike cocked his wrapped head at the sound of the laying foam finally swallowing
up all of the flaming truck mockup. "Ah, ha.. We've turned a curve. The building, next, after that
truck, won't be hard to extinguish now that its fuel source is smothered. Hear that, Kelly? The
fire's quieting even though the flames probably still look the same. It's dying out now."
"I
hear it. It was kinda growling and hollow before, now it just sounds like a really big camp fire."
"That's the distinction between the growth and death of a fire. Remember those sounds." Stoker
told him. Boot seemed to agree and he barked.
About ten minutes later, station 51's fuel
fire exercise was over and the next scenario was set up for the next station on the rosters to
complete.
Chet was told to wrap up his hose teams and wash away the foam for the next group
to use the test site.
Station 51 was released to return to base and their regular duties.
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-------------------------------------------------- Mike was laughing with the guys in the kitchen
when Chet made his way to the engine and his potential new station assignment at the engine chemical
panel.
Gage had come by to wash his hands before lunch when he noticed Kelly quietly surveying
that side of the engine with his hands in his pockets. "Chet, are you actually moping?" he joked,
his shoes skidding to a halt from his whistling jog to the locker room sinks. "I don't believe I've
ever seen you do that before.. Well," he amended, "maybe only once or twice before."
"Oh, hi
Gage." Kelly said glumly, sitting on the running bumper of the engine.
Boot seemed to notice
that Chet was feeling blue because he bolted out of the kitchen, dropping the roll of paper towels
he had stolen from Marco, and immediately skittered across the slippery floor to nuzzle a nose
under Chet's ace wrap gloved hands.
Kelly winced a bit with the move on his still healing hands
but he immediately ignored that and petted Boot's long back. "Hi, Boot. Look,... you guys didn't
have to come out here. I'll be in for lunch in a sec. I... just got away for a moment to do some
....thinking..."
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"Oh yeah?" Johnny said, his earlier kidding turning respectful and serious for once. "What about?
You're gonna be a richer man come Sunday when you finally pass your finals.. An engineer pays, what?
Eighty dollars more a week than a regular hose man? And you know, come to think of it, you're gonna
be making fifty dollars more a week than either Roy or I. " Johnny put a shoe on the engine's
bumper which Chet promptly pushed off to rub with the white towel that he now carried around
with him out of habit. "Hey.. hey... watch the scuffing! I gotta account for the public appearance
of Red in spite of how much the rest of you guys like to dirty her up."
That surprised
John. "Oh really. Now it's you, versus us? Is all this standby engineer promotion stuff going to
your head?"
Chet looked immediately abashed and suddenly sheepish.. "Well,... " Then he squared
his shoulders and only flinched a little under Johnny's angry stare. "...Yes... I guess.."
Johnny's face melted from suspiciously malicious to a broad sh*t eating grin. "Well, good. Now you're
finally starting to sound like Mike Stoker. I'm proud of ya, Chet.. Come here and stop feeling guilty.
After all, this pumper man job thing's only gonna be temporary and we all know it.." And Johnny's
arm wrapped around Kelly's shoulder in an affectionate hug which turned into a raiding noogie,
and soon the two friends fell into a wrestling match on the floor that Boot happily referee-d
and watched over with loud bellowing barks.
Of course, the struggle and grunting commotion
brought everyone running. Soon, bets of who would pin who first filled the air and even Mike got into
it despite his blindfolding bandages.
Right then, the station alarm went off .....
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********************************* From :"Roxy Dee" <laterrapincabesa@hotmail.com> Subject :
Instinct~~ Date : Wed, 19 Feb 2003 01:26:19 +0000
The call came through, ending
the wrestling match in short order.
##Squad 51. Child down, at the McGregor baseball field.
9 Greenway Pass. Cross street, Niven Boulevard. 9 Greenway Pass. Cross street, Niven Boulevard.
Time out, 13:07##
"Cap!" Stoker said, ignoring Boot who was pulling on his leg to get
him out of the way of the squad's bumper as Johnny and Roy wrote out their call slip and opened
the rescue truck's doors. Mike grabbed onto the edge of the wall map to steady himself from Boot's
protective-of-the-one-hurt activity below.
Captain Stanley piped up after acknowledging the
run on radio frequency. "Yeah, what is it Stoker?"
"That's my ball field. Let me go with them."
Stanley looked up sharply. "I can't authorize that. Stoker. You're on medical leave. And besides
that fact, you're still wrapped up like a m-"
"Cap, I know those kids! They're on my Big Brother
program. It's gonna bug me not knowing who's in trouble."
Boot was still hanging onto Mike's
pants leg when Cap finally said. "All right. Get in there. And I'll tell you the real reason
why I'm letting you go with them. One of your kids may have been the arsonist who was responsible
for your eyes getting burned."
"What?!" Mike gasped. His shock and surprise were plain even
through the white kerlix concealing most of Mike's face.
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Cap sighed. "Gage, DeSoto you didn't hear this.. Stoker, the kid you're looking for is Jeremy
Conners, he mentioned something about Max, knowing details about the warehouse blaze that injured
you. See what you can scrounge up."
"Thanks, Cap..I will. " Mike said, turning his bandaged
eyes towards the squad, but Boot still stubbornly held him in a firm grip by the ankle.
"Boot, let him go.." Cap ordered the hairy mutt "guarding" Stoker. The shaggy dog dropped his hold
on Mike's foot immediately and sat next to Cap as the garage doors finished rolling up into their
housing. Stoker climbed in fast when Roy stepped out of the squad to make room for him to sit
between them. DeSoto guided Mike's head into the cab before he got back behind the wheel.
Chet
came jogging up and he handed over Stoker's helmet from the engine for him to wear. "You let
me know what happens, Mike. They're my kids too.."
"I can do you one better Kelly." Roy promised
him. "Get on your HT. Listen for our med call on Rampart's base station channel.. It can be done.
KMG 365-B, sub two. We'll still be in the ten mile range and open to you. That way, you'll know
the minute we do about what's up. Just don't speak up or L.A. will hear you."
"Nice tip. I'll
do that." Kelly said, and patted the squad roof to let Roy know that all feet, dog and human,
were clear of the tires.
Roy, John and Mike drove quickly out of the station, turning left
onto the street with sirens and lights on full.
Chet and Cap in the bay crouched by Boot,
and both men absently petted him. "Hey Cap, just how much trouble are we in for letting a blinded
fireman go to a rescue scene?" Kelly asked.
"Could be plenty. But, I've special leeway when
it comes to investigating a fire crime and that's what I'm banking on to bail my butt with the
chief. If Stoker stays off the radio, like I know he will, headquarters will never know he's out
there with them." Stanley snorted.
"Glad you let him go."
"Like I had any other choice?
I don't think twenty Boots could've stopped Stoker from riding along.." Hank quipped, pointing
to their mascot who was playfully tugging on their shoe laces. "Come on, let's put lunch in the
oven. We'll eat when they get back. "
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~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ The squad arrived at the park on the north side of the reserve's
four fields. Stoker was able to tell them which ball diamond was the McGregor field because of his
knowledge of the park's layout.
Roy and Johnny screeched to a halt in the parking lot nearest
a crowd of kids milling about on top of the rickety graffiti painted, wood tiered bleachers.
"Mike, do you know your way around here well enough?" DeSoto asked as he pulled out the biophone,
drug box and 02 from the storage compartment of the squad.
"Yeah, I'll be fine. I hear Old
Ben in the concession stand. I'll let him lead me to the bleachers so I can talk with the kids.
Just find out what's wrong. It's killing me not knowing what's happening here."
It soon became
clear that finding someone to be Mike's eyes to navigate the area wasn't necessary.
"Coach!
Hey guys, look! It's Coach! He's all right!" said an older boy of twelve in a dingy baseball outfit.
Then two baseball teams of kids flooded around Mike Stoker enthusiastically in a cheer and even Old
Ben lifted his head to peer myopically from the concession stand.
Gage was irritated by
the throng, "Hey ...hey ...hey, now we're on a rescue call. Who called the station about a hurt
or sick child?" he said lifted his medical boxes high over the children's milling circle around
them.
One little girl piped up. "Oh, you must mean Susan." she said snidely. "She made us call
for help from the park pay phone because she said she was dizzy again."
"Does Ben know
about this?" Mike asked incredulous.
"Nah, he don't know.." said another boy. "You know how deaf
he gets sometimes. He told us there's no way he's leaving the popsicle cooler. Guess the older boys
have been stealing too much behind his back. Must have thought we were trying to trick him again.
Why are your eyes wrapped like that, Coach?"
Roy rubbed his nose, looking at the tiny young man.
"Look just forget Coach's eyes for a minute. Where's Susan? Least we can do is take a look at her
to see if she's really ok." DeSoto turned. "Mike, do you have State authorized consent of guardianship
over these kids when you're on the premises? I don't see any adults nearby that look like they
belong to any of these kids here. We may have to treat her."
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"I do... Susan's one in the Big Sister program under my authority. This is All-Clubs week and sounds
like all my kids are here today. All I know is that she's a fourth grader at the Home which is
only a block away to the north." Stoker said. "There ARE no parents as all these guys are fostered
out through the State Home there. Usually Old Ben has his grown daughter psychologist helping
to keep an eye on things during Free Day like this. I'm not hearing her voice anywhere. Don't
know why she's not here right now. . If she had been, this whole situation might not have happened
the way it's happening right now."
"Mike, your authorized consent is all we need at the moment.
Try to calm down." Johnny said. Then he pointed out a random kid from the noisy bunch. "You! Son!
Yeah, you! Take us to where Sue is, pronto like. It might be serious." he said letting his frustration
of not finding their patient ooze out of every pore.
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