|
| |||
| |||
|
|
| ||||
|
|
| Page Two |
 |
 |
 |
|
****************************************************************************** From: Voyagerliveaction Staff <theaterhost@voyagerliveaction.com> Date: Wed, Jan 3rd, 2007. 6:00:00 pm Subject: Spotty Situation It was late in the afternoon. Station 51's crew still found themselves runless as the warm sun continued to trail across the smog bound cloudless sky. Dixie McCall's suitcase and belongings were firmly encamped on one of the two bunks the gang had laid out for the nurse and their young guest behind the taupe fire blanket curtain that had been rehung nearest the shower room. An I.V. pump and a portable dialysis machine on standby glowed softly in the darkness wih occasional bleeps, but the beds themselves, were empty. Giggles were echoing into the kitchen from the back yard. Charlie and Felicia, were frolicking with some of the dalmation puppies in a shallow pool, constructed from a spare portable water vat off the engine. McCall hovered protectively by them, earning a thorough soaking whenever she got too near the playing pair. The rest of the gang was cleaning up their finished lunch dishes with all the windows open so they could listen in on all the latest laughter. "Got ya!" shrieked Felicia at Charlie the mechanic as she encouraged one of the bolder puppies to climb all over an impromptu raft she had built out of a mop sign for him. "Come on, Charlie. Pick yours up! She's got to get used to the water soon, or she'll never get a- adopted.." coughed Felicia. |
 |
 |
 |
|
Dixie, hearing the telltale wheeze, scooped Felicia out of the water and into a towel. "Ok, hard play's over. Time to rest or your chest'll fill up again faster than you want it to." she told the little girl. "Aww, Dixie. I'm not even that tired yet." moaned the girl, sputtering under the firm drying the nurse was giving her where she stood on the lawn. McCall was no nonsense. "What sounds like more fun? Going on a rescue with the fellas, or sleeping off too much swimming without ever getting out to see one?" "You know which one." squealed Felicia as Charlie splashed her toes again. "Ok, so into your jeans and fire cadet shirt with you. It's almost rush hour. A call's bound to come in before too long." Dixie told her. "Ok, ok.. I'm hurrying." said Felicia. Puffing, Charlie left the small pool for his own towel slung over the picnic table near the old engine. "You've worn me out little girlie. How about a game of something more sedate....liikkkee ...a nice quiet game of monopoly?" "I'll kick your butt!" Felicia accepted. "You're on! You and Dixie against me and the rest of the guys.." Charlie crowed, scooping up the pups one by one to carry back into the station. Felicia and Dixie captured the rest and dutifully lugged them inside before closing the station's back outer garage door. Bonnie wasted no time in scrubbing all of them dry with her tongue. Several pups joined Henry's bulk on the couch to warm up using the hound's ample body heat. Chet protested. "Hey, you soggy spotted lumps. I was here with Henry first." he complained, shoving aside his newspaper's page to glare at the tiny white dogs that were multiplying around his legs on the couch cushions as water soaked into his uniform. |
 |
 |
 |
|
Three jumped off at his "growl" and soon sacked out inside a tipped over garbage can, joining a watchful Boot, who wasn't pretending to be the proud father of the milling brood. Bonnie finished her rounds and settled herself on Dixie's lap where the nurse was laying out a pediatric BP cuff on the kitchen table from her nurse's bag. "Come on, time for your three o'clock vitals check. How are you feeling?" she asked Felicia. "Like I'm being interrupted.." grumbled the little girl where she was happily counting out everyone's bank of Monopoly money. "Cap you can be the boot. And Boot you be the Scotty dog since you are a dog." she planned out. The gang chuckled. Kelly shouted out. "I'll be the hat, since I'm already mad." he said, trying to wipe off the wet spots on his pants' legs. "Mad hatter?" quipped Gage. "That certainly fits." "Very funny, Gage. Don't tell me you're gonna be the battleship." "Why not? I battle huge fires all the time." Cap put in his two cents worth. "Stoker you be the anchor because you are anyways for all of us at any fire as an engineer." "I'll take it." said Mike, smiling. But then the grin disappeared instantly and he cocked his head at a telltale click. The rest of the gang froze in place as Boot, Bonnie and Henry all rose to their haunches and into attentiveness, as they thoroughly ignored the whimpering still damp puppies seeking their attentions. "Wait for it." said Stoker, glancing up at the intercom speaker. An all county tones sounded from the grille, two toned, and urgent stamped. |
|
|
|
Cap licked his lips when the message was over. "Relax all. Richter scale one. And not even a foreshock. Won't amount to anything being that sized. That rumbler didn't effect the public infrastructure in the slightest." reassured Hank. Kelly bit his lip. "Yeah, but what about the public's mental structure? Seems like in the past, to me anyway, that folks during a full moon always flip out at anything going on that's even a little bit unusual." Chet said, frowning. "Including an unfelt earthquake." "I agree." Cap said, crouching near the floor to calm Boot, Bonnie and Henry down. "But..there's nothing we can do until something decides to happen out loud." he reasoned. Dixie finished taking Felicia's vital signs. "You're fine so far. Gluc check in twenty minutes. And yes, I've already packed the monitor in our jump bag. It's sitting in Charlie's rescue squad waiting for us." she told the girl, winking at the rest of the gang to keep up that name for the Los Angeles County maintenance truck. The others winked back and fought down grins of amusement. "I suppose my oxygen's there, too, huh?" sighed Felicia, rasping wetly as she leaned over the table to straighten out another pile of play money. "So's mine." said Dixie. "You never know when the smoke's gonna catch the both of us unaware." she insisted. "And we're long overdue for going to a fire. So let's get cracking." she glared at the wall intercom. On cue, a station's call went out as she mocked the local superstition. "That's more like it!" Felicia celebrated. Charlie smiled, spreading his arms wide. "Your 'Wish' is our command, little lady." he told the struck numb girl. "Come on, let's go." he said, reaching out for her suddenly nervous, sweaty hand. |
 |
 |
|
##Station 51. Auto accident involving a collapsing structure. 1714 Yellow Brick Way. 1714 Yellow Brick Way. Cross street Ozman. Time out : 16:07.## Johnny Gage hastened one of the dogs ahead of him. He whistled at Bonnie. "Come on, come on. You've always wanted to go, so get in! Now's your chance, too, girl." he encouraged the small dog with a grin. The tiny Yorkie leaped up onto the seat in seconds. "Henry and Boot have already had their turns a long time ago when you weren't here." he told her. Dixie ended up carrying Felicia the last few yards to Charlie's truck parked out front in the driveway when the girl's excitement turned her legs to noodles. "Don't forget to put your helmet on." she teased her tiny charge as the mechanic threw on his navy blue jacket and moved the red truck aside to allow Squad 51 and the Ward engine to take the lead. |
 |
 |
 |
|
Then McCall joined up with Roy and Johnny to ride shotgun in the squad's center seat. "Have you found out how many people are involved in this one yet?" she asked. "Not yet." said DeSoto, eyeing the road in front of them. "Why don't you find out? Truck One's tuned in to our frequency so watch what you say. Felicia can hear every word." "Well, aren't you pulling out all the stops for her." Dixie smiled, dripping mild sarcasm. "She wants to experience what our lives are like working our two jobs, Dixie. Only one way to do that." Gage grinned. "Just like you taught us." "Yeah, I know. Gotta dive right into the deep end." Dixie chuckled. |
 |
 |
|
Their humor dropped off when they rounded the next turn and caught a glimpse of the scene to come. "Oh, my word." Dixie said, picking up the mic. "How on earth did they do that?" she wondered out loud. Then, suddenly, there was no more time for wondering. "I'll contact Rampart for you just as soon as I inform the chief what's going on." shouted Dixie to Johnny and Roy as they bailed out of the cab. "Squad 51 to Battalion One. We've at least five victims involved at the scene. One is walking wounded." said McCall, squinted to see the shadows, moving and still inside the car's shattered windows. Then she leaped out to intercept a young man cradling a bloody cheek in a scrap of clothing. Cap aided her report on his HT to the listening in Battalion. "L.A. Respond a second alarm assignment. Our car is situated inside an apartment building. Notify the gas company. Marco, break out the electronic sniffer. If there's a pipe leak anywhere, I want to know about it." |
 |
 |
 |
|
Gage and DeSoto started to gather their medical and extrication gear. "Bonnie, go to where Charlie is. Go watch the girl." Gage told the Yorkshire with a sweeping gesture as he got into his air bottle. He could hear screams from someone older and female from the back seat. "Ma'am. We're here. Now hold as still as you can and don't move around. We don't want the car to slip down even further before we've anchored it." Johnny warned as he jogged towards the strangely catapulted station wagon. Johnny didn't even see Bonnie beeline for Truck One, who was waiting with her doors propped open to provide any mechanical aid the crews might need. He saw Charlie running towards them with a rope to tie off onto the rear bumper. On the other side of the car, Roy kept in his mask as he reached into all exposed window spaces to feel around for carotid pulses. "Everyone back here's alive." he told his partner and Cap, who was hovering nearby. "I can't tell about the driver though. I'm not seeing anyone down by the steering wheel." "Runaway clutch?" Hank guessed, peering through his face plate. "Maybe." Gage nodded, as he began to assess the most vocal passenger in the backseat. An older, stunned lady. "Easy, ma'am. I'm Johnny Gage and this is my partner Roy DeSoto. We're both paramedics with the Los Angeles County Fire Department. We're here to help you. Where are you hurting the most? Is it here where your head's bleeding?" The old woman could only moan, unable to reply. Very soon, like the others, she fell slowly silent and still against the door jam under Johnny's carefully probing hands. "Hey,," Gage yelled at her, reaching for her neck pulse. He sighed when he found it a few seconds later. "Mike, grab out all the oxygen bottles and masks we have. Get one for each victim. Dixie, she's the worst. I'm seeing dura mater pushing through a skull fracture on her." he said pointing to the first lady he had examined. "Ok. I'll go grab an airway and a backboard." she said, as Johnny carefully fitted a collar around the old woman's neck. "You got five tanks, Johnny." said the engineer, laying several down. He included a charged hose near the car in case it was needed to wash away spilled gasoline on the lawn or inside the apartment house's basement. Hank shouted. "Chet, go grab the portapower, K-12 and the jaws." Lopez gasped in relief as he hastily cast around the gas detector's probe. "We're clear. No natural gas in the air." he shouted. Every firefighter within earshot shed their scba gear then as fast as they could, grateful for the added mobility. Hastily, Chet wormed his way into the hole in the wall. "There's a man down here under the car!" he shouted. "And it looks like it's gonna land on him if it sags another half of a foot." |
 |
 |
|
Cap snapped out an immediate order. "We can't wait for the other engine crew. Marco, Stoker, Chet. Get down there. See if you can brace the front end. Keep it from slipping. Use the jaws if you have to." "Ok, Cap." they said, running for the apartment's patio door. Vince, the cop, had already broken the glass on one of its panes to unlock the door. "Boys! In here. Neighbors say the owner's not home. They're on vacation." "Well somebody is, Vince. There's a man in there." "What?" "He might be an ejected driver, but I doubt it. The force here wasn't great enough to break the windshield completely open." Hank said, peering once again into the depths of the vertically up-ended car stabbed through the brick wall. "Hang on a minute." frowned Vince. "Let me check it out first." he said, drawing his gun. "You think this might have been a robbery in progress?" Cap asked, putting two and two together. "Probably, knowing this neighborhood. Your freak accident might have interrupted one." said Vince, cocking back the safety on his gun. Gage's face twisted in anger at knowing that he hadn't yet escaped the criminal element for the day. "Ok, we'll wait. But not for long. Three in there have serious life threats according to Roy. They'll die if we don't get them out of there just as fast as humanly possible!" he said to Vince's disappearing back. Captain Stanley lifted his HT. "Charlie. Pull back. 10-95." ##Copy. Retreating to a block away.## said the mechanic, putting the truck into gear. He told Felicia nothing, hoping Bonnie was enough to distract her from the obvious reason for why they were abandoning the scene. |
 |
 |
 |
|
Dixie caught the weapons code and knelt behind the rescue squad. She was tending the young man who had been staggering in the street when they had arrived. He was quiet now, and cooperative. McCall contacted the hospital. Keeping her head low, she watched the firefighters do the same as they hugged the violated wall, waiting for word from Vince that all was clear to continue. "Rampart, this is Squad 51." Dixie hailed. ##This is Rampart, go ahead.## replied Dr. Brackett. His voice was peaked with interest as to what she had knowing the nature of her special assignment for the week. "Rampart. We've a multiple casualty MVA. One minor. Four possibly five are still inaccessible. In triage priority. Victim One. Female, approximately eighty two years of age. Open skull fracture. Rapid loss of consciousness. Vitals are : Pulse forty, respirations ten and shallow, BP 170 by palpation. Minimal external blood loss but there are definite signs of building ICP." Dixie said. "She's airway protected and being hyperventilated on oxygen." the nurse said, seeing a gutsy Marco reaching up an arm into the car to bag supported breaths into the woman's ET tube. ------------------------------------------------------------------------------- In the base station, Kel rapped on the window to get Morton's attention. He handed over a fresh note pad to the young resident and held up five fingers. Morton took a pen from behind his ear and started scribbling as McCall's report continued. ##...Victim Six. Walking wounded. A male of 16. Slight concussion with a large laceration of the face. No blackout. Probable cracked ribs on the right. Breath sounds are normal. He says he wasn't in the car. Claims it only grazed him as it sped by out of control. BP is shocky however, eighty palp. I've got him lying down, covered, on light O2. Pulse and respirations are normal. Stand by for the other victims. We've a possible weapons situation. ## Not for the first time, Kel felt a pang of worry for Dixie in the field that was more than just a doctor's usual professional concern. Flicking off the recorder for a moment, he voiced his feelings. "Dix, be careful out there. I'm speaking as your best ever friend when I'm saying that, so hear me out." There was a pause over the radio. "Dix? Tell me what's happening." Kel began again, still pausing the dictation tape. ##.....We're safe, uh, sort of. At least no heavy armor's involved in the equation. I'm signing out until the next one's been freed.## McCall sputtered. Then the biophone connection went dead. "Dix..?" Nothing but static met his ears. Followed by a derisive snick. "Dix! Answer me, G*d d*mn it!" he cursed, sighing in irritation. He turned the recording reel to reel off. "You know, some days I think she's even more hot blooded and impulsive than I am." he grumbled. "Wanna bet?" Morton quipped, taking another sip from his coffee cup. "Who asked you!" Kel roared, nearly spilling his own in his ire. ---------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- |
 |
 |
 |
|
Vince ran to the basement, carrying his revolver in front of him like a talisman. He still had fresh memories of the shooting they had dealt with that morning. "I don't know why I picked Los Angeles to work in, somedays." he whispered to himself when he finally got to the car's location inside the basement. Luck was with him and the bright setting sun filled that end of the crawl space with daylight. He found the man Chet Kelly had been talking about. And he was awake. A quick visual proved that he was completely unarmed, sprawled where he was on his back. He lay underneath the steaming chassis of the car, but there was no blood at all. Vince put away his gun and snapped it shut. "Hey, are you hurt at all?!" the policeman asked him, crouching near his face. The man startled, shouting. "I told you they would find us. Stupid. Stupid. Stop looking at me!" he yelled at himself oddly, repeatedly reaching up to touch the under carriage of the car. "It's always better if you don't watch! So why did you do it?!" he sobbed, his emotions flipping from fear, to anger to total confusion. "Hey, keep your hands down or you'll burn yourself." Vince warned him, changing his position as he gave the all clear high sign to the fireman outside with a triple slap on the car's roof as a signal. "The muffler's still hot. What's your name?" Again the man's eyes didn't connect with his. "Crazy jerk. Gotta go to ma's now. She'll understand. She always does. Making good time walking the straight line." he chanted, his eyes darting rapidly around him as he gasped in severe emotional distress. "I'm gonna get me a good meal..." he sobbed. "Right away." Vince saw that he lay as if paralyzed. ::No 'petrified' is the word.:: he corrected himself. He saw a bottle of pills lying on the cement by the man's waist. It was a psychogenic suppressant. He gave voice on his radio. "Engine 51. HT Mary One. This man's a space case. Altered level. Seems like some kind of nervous breakdown or something. I found these fallen out of his pocket." he said, holding up the medication. Shaking it, he found that none of them were gone. "And he hasn't been taking anything for it lately." A flash of plastic at the man's wrist caught Howard's eye. "Looks like he escaped from the hospital. He's got a Belliveue I.D. on." "Is he pinned?" Chet asked peeking his head through the opening in the wall around the car again. "No, nothing's even touching him. But he's a little manic. We may have to cuff him and drag him out of there before you guys can get to work on the car victims. I'm gonna need some help. He's restless and might be primed to fight if he finds out that we're not one of his hallucinations." Vince told Kelly. "Ok, we'll be right down. Is there any gas leaking from the car in there?" "No, just water from the smashed radiator!" Vince replied. Kelly waved back and disappeared. "See if you can get him to crawl out to you. He's not safe under there!" "Ok." Vince replied. Captain Stanley quickly got his update from Chet. "All right. He's a psych call. Urban Rescue's here. They're grabbing support struts, H-bricks and anything else that can be used to start shoring up the front end of the car. I don't want anything to move once we start tearing it apart to get the rest of those people out of there." Hank told his three non-paramedic firemen. |
 |
 |
|
"Hank!" cried Vince. "Yeah?" "It's not that bad in here. Looks like the car missed the rafters of the first floor foundation. And nothing's caving in yet." "Thank heavens for small miracles." Cap sighed gratefully. "Hold tight. I got your backup coming. Stoker's a wrestler on his off days." "Terrific." Vince smiled tightly. "Just what I need. Lots of muscle." Mike, the engineer came down the stairs of the apartment into the basement a half minute later with Marco and Kelly. Vince held them off with a gesture. "Leave your gear up there. Have nothing on you that can turn into a weapon." he ordered. "Then you can help me." he told them no nonsense. The three pulled off their jacket halligans and left them on the stairs out of eyesight. But they kept their helmets on. "All right. You can come down now." said Vince, flashing come on fingers. "We'll try the direct approach and each take an arm and a leg. I don't think he's even aware of us. But watch for kicking and punches anyway." "Don't forget the biting." Chet reminded him. "Never that. I still got the scabs and the tetanus shot bruise from the last one." the policeman grinned, still inching forward towards the delusional man. "Are you convinced he's not on some kind of upper?" Lopez asked, not relishing the idea of a superhuman effect that could possible come from their target. "Positive. His pupils are normal." hollered Gage from where he was squeezed inside the car again over a second unconscious woman. "I can see them from here." he said. "Like he said. Strictly psychogenics." Vince shrugged. "Ok, I'm trusting you like I always do the men in blue. Hope you're not letting me down, Johnny, with that observation or there's gonna be h*ll to pay later on when I get even with ya for lying to me." Kelly said softly, inching forward for the man's nearest leg like Vince was doing for an arm. Gage rolled his eyes, but kept working on establishing spinal precautions on his patient. He didn't bother to reply. Marco and Stoker reached for the man's contact burned arm and second leg with their gloves at the same pace as Chet and Howard. "Ready?" asked Vince of the firemen, speaking quietly. "Don't make any sharp moves. Just be gentle. He may not trigger into a violent episode." "How can you be so confident of that?" Kelly whispered nervously, licking dry lips. "I can tell by the color of his bracelet. It's yellow. He's an outpatient. Somebody's probably looking after him. Most likely he lives in the building and was attracted down here by all the commotion." Vince told him. "Let's hope so. I'm set." Chet nodded. So did Lopez and Stoker. "Now..." Vince said softly, and he grasped one of the man's arms as he tensed, ready for anything. But the mentally ill man's only change was to collapse into tears at the contact. He let the firemen drag him clear of danger like a limp rag doll. "Where's my sister?..She...she's always there for me. Where...where is she. Can you tell me where she is?" Vince rolled him over and handcuffed him for his own protection before hauling him to his feet. Quickly Stoker examined him for other, more serious injuries. Then he stepped back. "He's clear, Johnny." "Ok. Get back here. We'll cut this gal out first. Get the K-12 going." Johnny requested. Then he turned to his partner. "How's he?" he asked of the elderly man Roy was fitting with an oxygen mask. |
 |
 |
|
"Two broken legs. Nothing else. He's even starting to come around a little." DeSoto answered. "There's a child underneath my lady. She's awake but catatonic or something. Respirations are normal." "Anything else on her?" "Mild cuts and bruises. Reactions are fine. But I want to board her up anyway considering the damage the car's got." Gage decided. "Better safe than..." Roy broke off, swallowing as the hard lessons of the day suddenly struck him ironically. Gage grinned mildly. "Yeah. I know what you mean. I've got goose pimples." |
 |
 |
|
| ||||||
 | ||||||
| ||||||
|
| ||||||
| ||||||
|