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   What's  A  Dedicated Captain  Like  You  Doing..
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           Page Nine
Note: Music soundtrack is high quality and slow loading in some cases. Patience.:)

    **Graphic EMS retrieval image below**

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Brice smiled softly as he got 51's defib, stokes and ekg ready.
"There are always possibilities. He had time to activate the H.T.
distress beacon, didn't he? We all heard it. That means that he might
still be in an air pocket where he's free from the waist up."

"You could be right. He must have been conscious for at least that
long." Grunting in emotional pain, Johnny drew in a cleansing breath..
and picked up the receiver. He kept turmoil, out of his voice.
"Rampart, this is Rescue 5-1. Do you read me? R--"  he
covered his mouth, fighting his stress, then Gage began again.
"Rampart, ....this is S-Squad 51. Do you read our transmission?"

Nurse Dixie McCall answered. ##10-4, 51. We read you loud and

Gage gripped the red case tightly and with his eyes closed,
he reported in. "Rampart, we've a Code I, currently inaccessible
following a structural collapse. Uh, potential for a full resuscitation.
He's been buried under post fire debris for..." he grimaced as he
looked at his watch. "...fourteen minutes, notifying you for potential
trauma and surgical teams. No Burn Unit."


In the communications alcove, McCall rapped long fingernails on
the window glass to attract Dr. Morton's attention at the desk. She saw
that he was on the phone when he turned around at the noise, and in
mock horror of the boring phone conversation he was in, he spun
can-it-wait? fingers at her.

She nodded yes.

Morton sighed and turned his back to spare Dixie his chatter as
he loudly outlined the argument that he was having with the lab
people downstairs.

McCall grinned. Lab mistakes were very few when Dr. Morton was
on shift.

It was then Dixie got an odd feeling from the way Johnny had worded
his patient information. She frowned and toggled the replyback. "51, for
faster medical records access, do you know the identity of the victim?"
Flipping on another reel to reel, she added, "I've switched over to a
secured channel and recording mode."

##Dixie, he's from my shift. It's Chester B. Kelly.## Gage reported,
answering the way Chet's name appeared on his medical chart.
##Age 31. Best case scenario, is long term entrapment.##

Dixie gasped, and almost dropped the chart she had started
at the beginning of the call. She whirled and immediately began
pounding on the glass for Mike with her fist, urgently and scared.

Morton caught the hint, hung up the phone, and came.
"What's the problem?" he said, entering the room. "A life or
death situation?"

McCall's eyes filled. "Mike, I need your advice. I know very personal
information about a trapped firefighter with 51's, who might not
make it in time to see his..." finally Dixie came out and said it as
generally as she could.  "..his immediate--"

"Who is this again?" Morton asked, looking down at the clipboard.
"Mr. Chet Kelly? Isn't that the young fireman who was on that great
crash diet kick last year? Wow, ..I didn't know he had kin living in

Dixie held very still as she leaned on the counter. Then she
reached down and toggled the intercom to Johnny. "10-4, 51.
Please stand by for more information."

##Standing by..##

That got Morton's attention. "Dix, what is it that you aren't telling me?"
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"Come with me. I've got to think this out..." McCall fled the room,
bruskly signalling another nurse to watch the paramedic alcove
for her.  Swiftly, she went across the hall to Kel Brackett's office.

She knocked, but it was empty. Together, resident and nurse went inside,
with Morton trailing, completely puzzled after her, the whole time.

Once the door closed, Dixie froze by Kel's desk, uncertain.

Mike wasted no bones.
"Now are you going to explain to me exactly what it is about this
patient's personal information that has you worked up so bad?"

"Should I?" asked Dixie again. "Am I authorized to?"

Mike didn't even blink at that strategy. "If it's a matter of life and death,
of course!" Morton exasperated, throwing up his hands in frustration.

Turned loose, Dixie told all. "Chet's not living alone in that apartment of

"Okay, so he's got a girlfriend. I don't have a problem with that. Go call
her and send her out to them by police c---"

"It's...more complicated than that, Mike." Dixie said, tears welling up.
"They've really loved each other, from moment one."

"Okay, who's she?" Morton asked, folding his arms together.

"Remember Ginger? That fifty eight year old belly dancer from
the club who ended up being hypoglycemic for taking diet pills?"


"No, 'she' is Ginger's best friend, Red. Mike, Chet calls her Big Red every
chance he gets." Dixie stood there, and blinked. Then she sighed, hugely.

Mike just stood there, with total incomprehension spreading on his face.

"Oh, Mike. Don't be so dense like other men are. Whenever he says that,
Chet doesn't mean the chewing gum." Dixie fretted.

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Morton, to his credit, never got offended. "Okay, so did they elope?
That could be a problem if the fire department ever found out. They frown
on employees who lie about how many are claimed on W-2 tax forms."

Dixie gave a joyless laugh and put sad, folded fingers to her agonized
mouth. "C-Can you keep a secret?"

Mike simply threw up his hands in an I'm-a-doctor,-duh gesture.

"Okay, okay, okay. This is fact." McCall said, pushing him
into a chair as she stood over him and glared. "No one's ever
gone over to Chet's place since the day they met. That much
I KNOW." she insisted.

"Ah, so.. they ARE married. Still, not a problem in my book." Morton just
nodded, encouraging her to continue. "That'll be for the fire chiefs and the
IRS to mull over later."

Dixied eyed him up, thinking hard, like a woman. "Geez, Mike. They're
both deeply loving hippy types. True, free spirits. They went to Woodstock,
bought the T-shirt... And he's attended every one of her belly dance
performances ever since that first promise of his..." she led on. "They're still
together, even after six years. They say they're absolutely devoted to each other
and they both tell me it's because it's always been... love at first sight."

Mike blinked a couple of times. "Wait a minute, is this leading up to where
I think it's leading?"

Dixie didn't move.

Morton tried again, finally understanding. "There's truly no ring?"

Dixie nodded miserably, tears running afresh. ""No, and it's a stigma if anyone
found out. Take a look, Mike. I got this just last week as a birthday present. It
was supposed to be our secret... Nurse.." she gave a long, panged sigh of
sympathy. ".. to a certain pair of visiting E.R. patients..."

Then she drew out a wallet and showed him a single, very recent photograph.

"Oh, no... Confidentiality be d*mn*d." Mike sighed sadly, looking down. "You
have my permission to do whatever it takes to get Chet's girlfriend out onto that

"Immediately, Dr. Morton.." McCall sobbed.

They left the room in a hurry.

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From: Patti or Jeff or Cassidy <>
Date: Sun Apr 20, 2008 11:51 pm
Subject: Forever In Their Soul..

(This post is a collaboration of Erin J., fan writer Linda T.
and Patti K.)

It was an hour later, and Cap, panting hard from his exertions,
lifted an arm as he clicked on his radio. ##Okay, everybody.
Shut down for one minute! All hands, quiet all your equipment.
This is gonna be listening check one!## he announced, his
voice cracking with emotion and fatigue. The sun was already
low enough in the sky that the rubble pile had taken on a somber
black and white cast with shades of limpid gray overtones. Only
the colored parts of the work paused firecrew's eyes showed
any color at all. The scene matched Hank's black mood. Inside,
he felt lost and very, very small. ::This isn't happening. Is this working?
Are we making any headway? Is Chet still okay? G*d, I hate this
not knowing..:: his thoughts pressed against the ache behind his
eyes as he concentrated on the small sounds echoing around
the wide skeleton of the house.  :: Small help it's been that the air's
still good in here. Wearing air masks would've helped cut down
some of this dust we're eating. :: he fretted.

Time after time, in that minute, Cap thought he heard scraping, or
tiny moans, only to be disappointed when that movement or origin
turned out to be from somebody whole and standing.

Near him, a worker whispered. "...we need a dog..."

His buddy whispered back. "...there weren't any available. Most
are out of state on demos training...." he muttered back, morose.

Cap's eyes stung. :: Oh, how I wish Boot were still here. He would
have been able to find Chet in a--::

"Over here!" came DeSoto's excited cry. "I think I see something!"

Marco joined the outcry. "It's cloth. For sure. And a shoe? Chet?
Chet?! Can you hear us?" Lopez yelled, digging carefully, but
very fast at the new hole they had discovered.

Hank snapped out another order as a flood of firefighters began
quickly picking their way over to that location. "Easy, easy. Don't
cause an avalanche into that crack. One at a time. Yes, nice and
easy. Yes, bring over that set of crow bars.. Stoker, do we need
air bottles down there? What does the detector say?"

"It's clear." Mike sobbed, in relief. "Normal ambient."

"Let's get to work!" Hank urged.

Gage had heard the news, and had come running with the
resuscitator and the biophone. "Cap?! How far down is he?"

DeSoto looked up from the hole he had been peering through.
"I think about nine feet. Can't....quite....reach him with the probe.
Too small for anybody to get into. We're gonna have to cut
him out."

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"Has he moved at all?"

"Not yet. And there's only a little blood here, from his right arm."
Roy reported.

"What's his color?" Stanley finally asked, wanting confirmation
on signs of life.

"Can't tell. This dust's coating him like all the rest of us." DeSoto

Lopez staggered when a large section he was leaning on suddenly

"Look out!! Everybody freeze!" Stanley hollered. "Don't move an inch!"

The tipped over wall started sliding anyway.. "Grab it! Stop it!" came cries
from firemen all over as a car sized slab started creeping towards Chet's
hole. "It's gonna cover him back up!" came frightened cries.

Gloves from a dozen firefighters and a solid grapple hook and chain
attached to Ladder Nine's bucket, extended overhead, finally arrested its

"Tie it off! Quickly..!" came Battalion Seven's order. "Don't bother
breaking it up. Just stabilize it so the rest of this pile doesn't move."

Eagerly, two engine crews and the engineers from USAR 1, got to work.


Gage got on the biophone, rehailing Rampart.. His voice was excited,
hopeful.  "Rampart, this is Rescue 51. What's your patient data?
We've established visual contact..."

Dr. Early got on the phone. ##Squad 51, go ahead.##

Johnny's face fell. "Rampart, Miss McCall told us to standby for
more info. Happen to know what it was?"

Joe's expression crumpled in curiosity. He knew if Dixie had tried to
relay earlier, and hadn't gone through to the paramedics, the news she
shared probably wasn't going to be good news on either end. #Negative,
51. But I will let you know as soon I find out. Chances are, she's finding
another way to bring it to you.##

Johnny looked up from inside the house instinctively when he saw Brice
get up as he noticed a group of new arrivals emerging from a police squad
car through the landmark spray painted, fire pockmarked west wall. ::Four
people from the hospital?:: he thought. One, Gage noticed, didn't get out.
::Looks like Vince is keeping a close eye there. I wonder why?::

Craig left the curbside and went out to intercept them. Gage felt a shock
of recognition when the two females seemed very familiar to him. One
woman, was Dixie, in a field uniform. The other, had thick tresses of
long flowing auburn hair down to her waist. Dr. Morton, was
guiding her over to the command area, near the treatment
gear ready squads. Dixie McCall had her other hand,.. and
her ear, speaking to her quietly, as they walked.

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::Oh, no. Is that who I think it is?:: Johnny wondered, as a distant
memory of belly dancers came to mind.

But then the sound of a biting K-12 blocked out all thought
of the new visitors.

Stoker slicked back his visor. "I'm through. Johnny, this might
be big enough for you an--"

"Let me through..." Gage said, setting down the biophone case
and resuscitator near Cap's feet. Gage upended head first in
his safety helmet, harness and rope and he slowly slithered
into the hole Roy had pointed to.

There was a long pause and muffled scraping..

Then... "...I can't get through.. There's been another cave in...
Pull back me up.."

The other firefighters muttered in frustration and hastened to
aid him. Soon, Johnny was back in front of Cap. "We gotta
dig again. By hand."

"Is he breathing?" Hank asked him. "Local condensation should
have told you that."

Johnny looked down setting his muddy gloves onto
his hips.  "I couldn't tell. There's dampness from left over hose
water still dripping down all around him."

Stanley quickly ran grubby fingers through his hair and as quickly
he replaced back, his dusty captain's helmet. "All right everybody, you
know what's left. And shore up as you go. I want an escape
cylinder down on each side of him as you dig.." he ordered.

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Next to him, Battalion Seven agreed with a silent nod.

The first chill of the coming night came drifting through the work area
and raised goosebumps on Hank's arms. Already, he could see
forgotten embers glowing orange in the violated wood surrounding
them. They were no longer a threat, ...but neither were they warm.


Craig Brice got out a blanket for Red to wrap around herself.
"Please, sit down, miss. I know this is hard to comprehend right now.
But I'm afraid, it's all true."

"No, Chet.. No!.." she sobbed, still beside herself. "He can't be trapped
in there.. He's always... *choke* so careful...Especially at work.." she cried,
nearly hysterical, and struggling.

Dixie gripped her around the shoulders tightly. "Red, Red.. Calm down.
Now what would he think? Do you really want Chet to see and hear you
like this?"

Nearby, Dr. Morton nodded silently to Craig to take action.

Brice began to speak. "Red,..Now you're working yourself up. That's
not a good thing for your daughter, now is it?"

Red just sobbed, holding her stomach, from nausea.

Craig went on. "I'm going to give you a local. Okay? It's just a light
sedative. It won't hurt you at all... Can you hold this arm still for a
moment? That's right, Dixie, hold her head." he said, holding an IM
hypo aloft. Brice began swabbing down the skin on Red's shoulder.

A few seconds after the injection, McCall started singing softly to her.
A song with a single name in it, over and over again, like a lullaby, holding
Chet's true love tightly in a desperate embrace. "Shh... I'm here. We're
all.. here.." and McCall's tiny hand sank lower, to hold Red's own in a soft
grip, over her stomach. "And so's she..."

"My daughter.. She.." Red startled and looked up, suddenly forgetting why
she was out in the middle of a street surrounded by fire trucks. "Where's her dad?
Where's Chester?" she shouted, confused. But then the medication's sudden
effects eased a bit, and she remembered why when she looked at the shadowed
hulk of the house.

Quietly, her crying softened and lessened, but it was no less acute.

Dixie looked up at Brice. "I'll stay with her.." she said. But nonverbally, she
cast her eyes scenewards to the work site. ::Go get an update.:: they said

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Nodding, Craig put on his helmet and jogged back to the others. Dr. Morton
began to take a blood pressure on Red. "Shhh, it's over. The diazepam isn't
gonna make you feel dizzy any more. Just relax against Dixie while I see
how you're doing. That paramedic's gone for news, okay?  Just try to rest
a bit. Now isn't that song Nurse McCall's singing nice? What tune is it, Dix?
I've never heard it before."

"It's something Chet wrote..... on his guitar." Red sobbed, burying her head
into Dixie's warm shoulder.


Marco and Roy broke through, falling against the exposed
concrete sewer cylinder Chet was lying against, face down.

Wiping oily grime off his dripping face, Roy reached for Kelly's
soot and plaster powdered neck with a couple of bare fingers.
"Chet? Can you hear me? It's Roy.." he said near his ear.
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Marco's face looked pinched. Already, he knew Chet wasn't
breathing, and hadn't been for quite some time. He didn't have
to ask whether or not Roy had found a pulse. The answer was no.

DeSoto let go, disbelieving, and moved to Chet's head, drawing
out a penlight in the quiet dimness. He passed the beams over
Kelly's eyes under lids that seemed stiff and didn't want to open.
Then he straightened up. "Dilated." Then he looked up at Marco.
"Go ahead and check for it." he told him gruffily. "I think we both...

Lopez quickly drew up Chet's turnout sleeve away from the broken arm
they had noticed earlier and saw the clear sign. His eyes immediately
filled. More frantic, Marco cut away Chet's jacket and shirt, using Roy's
bandage scissors, right up his side, and there, he found it, too, hugging
the ground. "It's lividity." he said, barely audible, fingering the dark blue
purple splotches on the chalky skin.

Roy started crying silently then, barely able to pull out his stethoscope
for one last confirmation as he leaned over Chet's back, drawing him
closer to his knees, where they both crouched inside of the small

"Well?!" came Cap's booming voice, echoing down to them

DeSoto couldn't speak.

So Lopez did it for him. "He's-- O Donya Maria!, He's muerte!...
We're too late, Cap!" he screamed in shock, horror. "Oh, G*d!"

Roy, next to him, didn't move. Then he, too, whispered, into his
H.T. "..far too late.." he said as he pulled the silver and black
drum away from Kelly's silent chest.  Overcome with grief, he
pulled off his turnout coat and covered up Kelly's face and
chill curled limbs gently.

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Click the helmet for a music soundtrack change. Turn up the volume. :)

Vince Howard waited for Stanley to meet him outside
the debris field. A few seconds later, the news the officer
shared, had shaken Hank anew.

Captain Stanley took one look at Howard's squad car, blanched at
something he saw inside of it, and then he snapped out an order.
"Guys, we're not leaving this scene in the usual way." he said as
Marco, Roy and Stoker silently gathered up Chet's body from
where it sprawled awkwardly in the place where he had died. "This has
become more than a just retrieval. I- I want a family out there to know,
that absolutely everything possible today, has been done.." he said,
pointing out to the treatment area, where Dixie and Red sat holding
each other's icy hands. His eyes flowed unabashed. "I want them
to know that one small comfort. It's the one thing, we CAN do."

DeSoto was still numb. "Cap, I don't understand.."

Hank helped him to his feet. "Roy. Go uncover him.
Take your jacket back. No way are we going to rack up a huge
useless ambulance transportation bill, for a newly grieving family."

"Family? Cap? They had time to get here?" asked Lopez, stunned.

"These folks are different. I'll explain later." Hank whispered.
"Let's get moving."

Gage set his mouth into a firm unreadable line. "I'll get the supplies

Roy suddenly understood what Stanley was planning, and approved.
"I'll start on him. Johnny, is the O2 apparatus nearby?"

"Yeah. I'll be with ya in a sec. Gonna get the EKG monitor from Brice."

Mike's eyes lit up in sharp, sad understanding. "Give me two minutes
and I'll be ready to roll out."


Station 51 started Chet Kelly's code immediately. Keeping up CPR
in a full resuscitative effort, they loaded Chet up into the stokes,
continuing to deliver paddle shocks. They administered medications as
accurately and quickly as they could through his endotrachael tube
that was taped solidly into place, in between the light breaths Marco
delivered by ambu bag.

Each shock became a stab into their own hearts when they finally
heard the strained, almost voiceless cries from Red as she ran toward
them. They rushed by as she fell headlong into the sharpest, freshest
grief anyone could ever possibly know. The loss of a soul mate.

They didn't remember lifting up Chet's still form to the hose bed on
top of the engine. They only briefly motioned to Dr. Morton, to join
them, with Cap secretly slipping him the initial hopeless strip of
asystole they had obtained inside the ruined hole. Morton did so,
donning a fire jacket and helmet for safety from a passing fireman.
Mike didn't miss a beat, falling into the act of mercy smoothly,
acting as a doctor should, for the entire lights and sirens Ward
engine trip into Rampart.
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Cap didn't go in to the hospital with the rest of his crew. He dried
the many tears from his face. Then he combed his hair as best he
could with fingers he had cleaned from a relief crew offered water

Soon, he was presentable.

Howard stepped forward towards him, and said, "Red's in no
condition to handle this just yet. Might be because she's been
medicated, Dixie says. That's why she probably asked you."

"Ok, Vince. Thanks." Stanley replied, unconsciously rubbing
off some soot from his turnout jacket that had, at last, completely
dried in the wind.

The moment struck him harder than he thought.

Taking off his helmet, Vince smiled and opened the rear door of
his squad car and held out his hand to assist its sole occupant.

A small, slender one accepted his and a tiny female form in a simple
red dress lined with blue, got out. Her hair was flaxen red-gold, like
her mother's but her eyes.. were all Chet.

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"So, you're Lyra Kelly." Stanley said, crouching before her. ::My word.
She must be at least six or seven years old already.:: he thought
with wonder. "Do you know who I am?"

Chet's daughter caught sight of her mother, highly upset
and being comforted by Dixie McCall, and trembled. But to her
credit, she didn't cry. "You're the captain. Of my dad's fire
station. I've seen your picture on the mantle. Along with Roy
and Mikey and Johnny and Marco and.." she broke off, the first
sign of distress clouding her amber eyes.

"Don't be scared. You're safe. Is it just you and Red in
your family along with daddy?"

"Uh huh... I don't have any sisters. Not yet, anyway. Mommy
talks about getting more babies. But that's for later."

Stanley felt an upwelling of sudden grief, but he suppressed it.

He took the willowy child's hands into his own and was
amazed that she didn't flinch from the smell of smoke, and sweat.
::The dear thing's probably used to it, from Chet coming home
unshowered on heavy-shift nights.::  

Blinking back visceral reactions, Stanley smiled, but he let the vestiges
of sadness frame his eyes. "But your dad has brothers.. Lots of them.
Uh,..A-And they came to help your daddy today when he fell down a
hole at work. But despite all their fire trucks and first aid boxes, they
couldn't do enough to save him, hon.." he said, his voice cracking.  
"I was there the whole time and.. we did the best.. the best that we
could. I'm so sorry, Lyra. Do you understand?"
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The child's glowing face shattered, and beamed in beauty, too.
"I'll try, but it won't be easy. *sniff* I loved my daddy." And Lyra
melted into Cap's arms in a paroxysm of grief so profound, that
it swept him up into its teeth, too.

"So did I." said Hank Stanley and he completely broke down. He
set his helmet onto her head as he began sobbing, "So did I." in
a muffled whisper into her soft hair.

Together, weeping, they joined the arms of her tearful mother,
and Dixie's offering of empathy.


Captains Roy and Johnny sat watching Captain Stanley
returning from that painful day of long ago.

"Still hurts, doesn't it?" Roy asked gently.

Their old captain blinked, and rubbed his eyes tiredly.
"Yeah. But not so much anymore. If it did, I wouldn't be
keeping firm reminders of the Phantom around.." Hank smiled
lightly, tossing a head at the bulletin board behind them once

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Johnny smiled lightly at the can Hank pointed at, "Man how
many showers did I actually take from that thing?"

Roy pulled out an old medical pad. "26....And a half, if you
count the one you dodged by the mop closet." he
said, peering at his ancient beloved hatch marks.

"Oh, that one?" Cap said in amusement. "You mean the one
you got only partially soaked at where that pretty little thing
of a mom thought you were the captain?"

The trio laughed.

"Doesn't matter now, does it?" asked Johnny archily.
"Heh. Because I finally AM one."

"Feels good, doesn't it, boys?" Stanley wanted to know,
resting his chin on a casual hand and elbow.

"Yeah.." they both said. "A dream come true."


Episode 51, Season Six Finale
What's A Dedicated Captain Like You Doing..
Emergency Theater Live


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  What's  A  Dedicated Captain  Like  You  Doing..
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