Burning Water, Page Six

Burning Water

Page Six

"She'll be fine, sir. You have my word on it. Stone's, too."

"Okay, I'll leave Brice on duty today."

"Uh,... Cap.." Roy murmured.

"What?" Stanley replied automatically to his old, but still familiar title.

"Let him go see her. Having a girlfriend is no different than having a wife."
DeSoto shared. "Being away from her like this is tearing him up."

"Oh. G*d. I must be blind!" Hank said, whirling around in place. "Is it
because I'm married, Roy?" he grimaced. "I've never ever connected people
who are still dating, for getting emergency leave before."

The others were kind enough not to comment.

"All right. I'm cutting him loose. I'm taking over the old spot per the medical
and being the only available relative clause."

"I'm pretty sure he's expecting this." Roy grinned.

"Quite. He didn't even say hi so he could get his paperwork done faster.
So, guys, are you getting comfortable enough with him and his style
of captaincy yet?" Stanley probed one last time, rubbing his gloves
together.

"For the most part." "Yeah." "He's okay." "No problems here." said
his old firefighter shift crewmen.

Craig Brice slammed the driver's door of Engine 51 shut on purpose
to get their attention.

Hank made a cut throat gesture his way and jerked a thumb over his shoulder
after displaying a count of twenty four for hours on his fingers. "See you
Friday!" he shouted. He spared Craig Brice some dignity by not watching
him run tiredly for a departing chopper on a return trip for Rampart. Craig didn't even
wave at Dixie and Dr. Brackett getting off the flight as he eagerly climbed aboard.
Dixie instantly understood and caught the H.T. handy talkie and the captain's helmet
that Craig tossed down to her.

"L.A., Battalion Five." Hank transmitted.

#Battalion Five.##

"I'll be assuming captainship of Station 51, per an EML."

##Copy a granted emergency medical leave and your reassignment, E-51. At
12:13. ##

The gang watched Craig's helicopter take to the air and disappear into the smoke.

Hank sighed. "Hi Dixie, Dr. Brackett. Thanks for these." he said taking the
equipment that Brice had nearly forgotten, from their hands. "Seeing Karen
couldn't wait any longer." He traded out his white helmet for his old captain's
skunk striped one. Just putting it on made him feel like a huge weight just went
sliding off of his shoulders. ::That's a good enough first time as a Battalion. I'll take
another stint as chief once my probationary period's over.:: he decided. ::Right now,
my men need me just as I used to be.::

"It'll be a good visit." Dixie McCall smiled. "She's finally taking visitors."

"Thank you for the update. Karen's good people." Hank said.

"Even Dr. Morton's saying that these days." Brackett agreed. "She'll be
an excellent doctor very soon. What happened to her was just a bump in
the road."

"A hard one." McCall added. "But temporary."

"How Triage?" Kel nodded, looking all around at the fire with a practiced eye.

"We're empty, doc." Captain Stanley replied.

"That'll change, boys. Mark my words. Korea used to get like this." Dixie shot
back. "Lulls before the big rushes."

Roy gestured. "Come on, I'll get you two and all of your jump gear settled into
the R and R tent."

Once the medical three had departed, Cap turned to face Marco and Chet.
"Tell me all about what's being done to find Mike. Being so high up
in the command chain's made it hard to keep track of all of the simpler
things like single rescue assignments."

Chet Kelly grabbed his elbow and led him to Engine 51 and the log book
Craig had left on Hank's seat. "In a nutshell. S.W.A.T., Vince, dogs, a P.I.,
and his girlfriend, an L.A.P.D. lieutenant named Dennis Becker,
and an informant on the street named Angel Martin. The whole lot of them
are out there in the middle of the fire, searching out scent trails or potential
hiding spots. The guy we all want, may have lost his gun. We heard it over
police band that they had found a rifle that matched the shells left in town."

"Crack pots always have more than one weapon on them." Cap reasoned.

"Yeah, but how many get caught up in the very same forest fire they started?"

"I see your angle, Kelly. Stoker has the advantage here, if he's still in one piece."
Cap said fiercely. "Is your detail complete?"

Lopez disconnected the fill tubing from the last air bottle in his row. "Yep. This
one was the last to tank."

"Hop in. I'm taking us to the police I.C. We're going to muscle in on their
search mission. We have every right to be there because there's still a fire out
of control." he said gleefully. "And they need a fire safety on standby for any
operation working in a fire zone, per the law, am I right?"

Marco just laughed. "Chief training's coming in handy, Cap. This is great!"

"Ain't it though?" Stanley beamed, cranking on Engine 51's steering wheel
until she was pointed towards the main dirt road leading into the fire. Chet
made himself busy by turning on her sirens and blasting the air horn to
scatter all the newstrucks out of the way.

::Mike, hold on. We're coming.:: he wished mentally.

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

The river beneath the lake dam's water felt icy on his skin. At least, the part that
wasn't exposed to the air and being burned alive. Mike Stoker kicked his way out from under
the flaming pine tree and let the flow of water take him. He drifted. Once, after an endless while,
his lips touched the surface and he sucked in a badly needed breath of hot air from inside the curl
of a soggy elbow, to lower its ambient temperature to the point where it wouldn't choke him. ::Is
this my T-shirt?:: Mike thought as something white tangled around his wrist. With a shock of horror,
he realized that it was the skin of his own left forearm, degloved and dangling around his fingers. It
was as soft as silk and was a faintly transparent blue in the orange flame glow. With a jolt, Mike
peeled out of his fireman's shirt and wrapped it around his scalded arm as the current carried him
downstream and into the heart of town.

As yet, there wasn't any pain. None at all. That fierce, ugly pressure in his abdomen had gone.

But then he felt a sharp jerk to his right ankle. Mike flailed at the surface of the water, fighting for more
air. He looked down and saw that a leather waist belt was bound cruelly around his numb ankle. The
other end was tied to one of the wrists of the arsonist who was just awakening at the same pace as
Mike Stoker.

Panicking, the half conscious engineer lashed out, trying to kick the face of Blair Todd away
from his legs. He was negatively rewarded for struggling. Blair stabbed a swiss army knife
clear through Stoker's free foot through his shoe as it kicked downward. Mike screamed.

Todd clawed his way up Stoker's body in the water to reach the top for air while his victim was still
paralyzed with agony. He, too, began to gasp desperately for more internal breathing room. His insanity
made him continue to press his attack on the engineer."Stop fighting me, if you want to live, Fireman.
Or I'll gut ya n--"

Stoker sucked in a solid deep breath and purposely dove straight down into the depths of the river,
trying to drown Blair. He felt the knife blade get pulled out of his foot. Another blow to his
thigh came, a sharp deep bite, just inches from his groin. He had been stabbed again. Instantly
Mike stopped flailing. ::Oh, that's so close to a femoral artery.:: He slapped Todd's hands away
from the impaled knife and curled his head and both of his hands around its handle to keep the
mad man from yanking it out and tearing the large vessel inside of his leg into shreds. ::I'll die
in minutes, if he manages it.::

Stoker began to cooperate instantly when he felt Blair snatch him by the hair and kick upwards back
towards the river's brightly lit surface. Shock began to set in both men. But the instinct to breathe was
still as strong as ever once their heads punched back up and out into the air. Todd and Stoker
both treaded water weakily. They saw hypoxia stars in their eyes while they recovered from near
suffocation. Shadows loomed close in the noon day smoke.

Mike suddenly recognized where they were, near a concrete dock edge next to the local church.
The day before, Gage and he had driven by the elegant old place on their way to see the fire horses.
"Why are you bringing me here?" he asked dully of Blair.

"So you can apologize directly to my wife, Fireman! Her wake was right in there in front of the holy
altar. Don't you remember? You were there! I seen-ed ya."

"No, I've never b-- I'm ---" Mike broke off, very afraid that anything he said further might tip off a murderous
rage that he couldn't block any more. Stoker stayed curled up protectively around his knifed leg as Todd
hefted him up onto the landing along the riverbank and up the church steps. He was dragged into a little
garden only yards away from the approaching roaring forest fire coming down from the ridge above.
The churchyard was full of gravestones. One of them was still fresh earth, and sprinkled with dried,
dead flowers.

"Meet my wife's new bedroom, Fireman! Why didn't you get her out of the house before the roof came
down on top of her? Rescuing someone does no good at all after she's dead." Blair murmured at him,
his eyes half blinded by tears and soot. He tied his end of the belt to a wrought iron fence in a couple
of viscious jerks. Mike felt the blade's edge grind against his femur in white hot surges. ::Don't let it move!::
he shouted mentally. Stoker gasped, keeping both hands tight and still around the knife's buried handle.
He could feel his heart's deep pulse's throb against it. ::So close to death!::

"Her name was Louise, Fireman. You sang over her coffin! The Old Rugged Cross. You and your disgusting
baritone warble. Why did you profane my wife with your voice?!"

Stoker opened his eyes once the incredible pain dulled down to a managable bruise like ache. He saw
that some of the sun and smoke dessicated blooms on the grave were purple and yellow. "Violas?" He took
a ghost of a chance to turn his hostage situation around. He started talking. "Louise loved violas.. I
remember now, mister. Why doesn't she have a cross over her grave yet? You're Baptist, right?"

"There wasn't time. I ... I wasn't ready to order and have one made! I was crying so hard I couldn't eat,
or sleep. But then the coroner called and said we had to bury her to make room for the others coming
into the county morgue. The state buried her quick, because I was found not fit to handle it."

A wild desperate hope filled Stoker's mind. "Then let's build one for her. Together. I can't pray over anyone
unless they have a head stone or a cross. I have to save you from your fate. Or I'm not a man of the
cloth..." he lied, in a desperate ploy for control.

Blair Todd's delicate madness sent tears into his eyes.. "Oh, ohHHH H H... are...y-- you're the
Padre? How could I have made that kind of mistake?! I could have sworn up and down in the woods
that you were wearing that hateful light blue and the badge of a firefighter. I thought you were one
of the ones that let my wife die."

Stoker looked down at his own soaked bloody T-shirt, ever grateful for the dressing he had made for his
burned arm out of the uniform shirt. "I..I forgot my black coat in the vestibule tonight, so shocked I was,
to find a fire burning outside of my very own church. I went outside to see how bad it was."

Todd gurgled and turned colors. "Forgive me, Father... I.. I created that hateful pyre.. I... It's those
evil, devil spawned firemen! I have to kill them all for not saving my Louise. I got at least one of
them so far. Shot him right dead. I even got one of their beasts, too. A black one!" Blair spat.

::Not Gage.:: Stoker thought desperately. ::Oh, please, Johnny. Don't you be dead!::

Black mud and fire soot was staining Todd's face and hands, all except for the clean streaks that
fresh tears were leaving as they fell down his cheeks. Mike opened his eyes and saw that
Todd was lying face down on top of his wife's mounded grave, swimming in the dead flowers and
dust, utterly lost inside of his heart and mind's deep agony. Something about him was off physically.
Todd's strength was flowing away even faster than his victim's.

Stoker's head spun in the fire heat. He didn't have much time left before he lost consciousness due
to his earlier internal damage and his still seeping stab wounds. He threw on a mix of Cap at his most
annoyed during a lecture, and the memory of a soap box bum he once met behind the station who was
preaching at the top of his lungs in the alleyway. "What's your name, son? It's not too late to repent!"

"Blair Todd, husband of Louise Mary Todd, like Abraham Lincoln's long ago, fair, and pretty wife. But it's
too late, Father. Ain't I d*mned to the depths for what I've been doing?" he sobbed.

Mike's eye fell on a jumbled mass of red wood and chrome lying in the street just outside of the church yard.

It was the shattered remains of the horse drawn fire engine's chassis. Tangled in part of the black harness
traces, Stoker recognized his H.T. radio. It was partially wrapped in leather reining, snagged around the
main pull shaft.

He could not believe his luck. "Blair.. listen to me.." he gasped. "We can still do it. We can still make
that cross for your w-- for Louise.. Look. On the road. There's just the thing.. Red wood and shiny fancy
silver chrome."

"That's firefighter stuff!" Todd snarled.

"No, that's legal loot. Because it was theirs and now it's destroyed. Let's make her a heavenly decoration!
Now, look at me. I can't walk anymore, but you can.. Go get that long carved bar with the silver tips. That
shaft will make the prettiest cross arms. And we can use some of that black leather strapping
to tie those two pieces together to make her a right proper cruxifix."

"I can't, Father..." Blair whimpered. "I'm too ashamed of what I've done to you. I done stabbed yer foot and leg.
You're gonna die. And then I'm going to H*ll for killing a man of G*d. I know it in my bones..."

"Not if we finish building your wife's grave marker. A selfless act like that's worth some merits, Blair. A lot of
them. Because you still love her." Mike whispered deliriously, beginning to shiver. He felt himself begin to drift
away.

"...really?..." Todd whimpered.

Stoker grunted and pinched himself around the knife back into wakefulness. "Oh, yes. Go get those wagon
pieces. I'll show you what I'm talking about!" Mike encouraged him, just as building pain from his
partially scorched arm began to lock out his voice.

Blair's head lifted from the dirt, revealing a snot smeared cheek. "Ugh.. I'll go g-get some." he said dully.

Blair began to crawl towards the street and the smashed, horse drawn fire engine.

It was only then that Mike saw the pink snake that seemed to be trailing down by Blair's feet. The
long coil dragged in the dirt and over the asphalt, twitching. It began to get smeared with red.

Stoker startled horribly. It wasn't a snake or a worm. Todd had been eviserated by a sharp branch from
the falling tree. ::Those are intestines?!:: Mike started to gag. Uncontrollably.

Nausea and sharp smelling vomit filled Mike's physical world as he denied reality protectively to keep
from fainting. Stoker began to beg over and over again in his head. ::Oh, please Blair Todd. Don't see the
radio. Don't hear it. Don't recognize it. It's just junk. A wreck. A shattered wagon part. Puke. I'm going
to vomit!::

Mike felt his head sink lower and lower to the ground where he sat against the twisted fence to which he
had been tied, as raw stomach acid spilled out of his mouth.

Light began to fade.

**************************************************
From: patti keiper <pattik1@hotmail.com>
Sent: Saturday, August 12, 2017 8:35 PM
Subject: The Gathering

Craig Brice opened up the door to the bright, sunny psych ward patient room reluctantly, afraid to
make any noise. "Karen? I got here as fast as I could." he whispered, peering around the door.

"Oh, Craig.." Overstreet sobbed, reaching out both arms to him from where she sat propped
up on the bed with loose and tangled, long hair.

"I know what happened." Craig rushed over and took her into his arms, kissing her passionately.
"How are they treating you?" he asked, sliding into the bed next to her so he could wrap up
around her protectively.

Karen sighed wetly as she felt him place his chin gently on top of her head in the gentle way
that she liked. "Like I'm a bomb about to go off. The doctors aren't so bad. They look at me like I'm
a puzzle to solve, maybe. They're still hunting for all of the pieces. And all the nurses act like timid
mice around me probably because I'm a doctor and because I'm their boss when I'm not---"
she broke off, suddenly crying.

"You're not sick, you're sad." Craig replied. "If I didn't have a massive fire threatening my station's
jurisdiction, I'd probably be smashing tons of things in my workshop just so I couldn't feel
the true extent of my broken h-" he choked off, sharply feeling the loss of their daughter who
should have been.

"Shh.. It's all right. I know it hurts bad. It's a black and horrible place there, Craig. I was stuck
in it for a while before I was snapped out of it. Let's just stay and not move for a whole
entire day." she cried, drawing up her bedsheet to soak away the tears flooding down her face.
'I'm here. We're both here. Together. I really.. need a long break, Craig." she sobbed.
"I will get better, eventually, but it's really hard right n--".

"Karen? Will you marry me? " Brice's face was trying to hide how afraid he was of the words he
was voicing in a quavering whisper. He sucked in a big breath and held it.

Overstreet's mouth fell open in a sad and surprised, "Oh!" just as the odd numbness was rising up
again to take over. She instantly felt despair wash away. She began to smile faintly. "Craig, Yes.
I do so very much want to marry you." she said in a rush, a new wave of tears in her eyes falling
away clean.

Craig Brice smiled through smoky lines on his face. "And so I say to my very beautiful future wife..
I...I.."

Karen sighed heavily in relief. "Craig, you don't have to struggle to try and explain how you're
feeling. I've always been smart enough to figure out what you really mean." she giggled.

Exhausted, Brice relaxed in her grip. "And I've been dumb enough to have taken so long
to tell how much I really love you." he started sobbing, falling into a grief that he had been
holding off for ages.

"I've always known, Mister Perfect Paramedic." Karen felt him melt around her and she did the same
right back under the comforting warmth of his arms. "We have the rest of our lives to diagnose
and try to fix ourselves. But later, Future Honey. I'm too tired to do much of anything right now.
C-Can we sleep on it?"

"Sure, Doctor Dearest. Race you." mumbled Craig, snuggling tightly around her. He dropped off
into a deep nap. Karen drifted, feeling contentment stealing over them both for the first time
since the miscarriage. When the dreams came soon afterwards, they were no longer tortured
for either sleeper.

-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
Roy DeSoto, Dr. Brackett and Dixie McCall were in the Triage tent, but the only thing they were
fielding were the three piping hot cups of coffee in their hands. Kel had a big fire of his own
to deal with at the moment, in Roy, about Johnny.

"You can definitely believe what Mike told me about Johnny. He's only a little hurt. With a
lot of sore muscles. And no permanent head injury. Nothing's ruptured or fractured." Kel told him.

"But what about that cut on his--"

"Forehead?" interrupted Dr. Brackett. "No stitches. A piece of tape only. What I want to do is
plan ahead for what might be wrong with Mike Stoker. I want to know what kind of injuries or
conditions we might expect on him when they bring him in."

"They found him?!"

Dixie McCall snatched away Roy's coffee protectively while he was gesticulating wildly, before he
could burn himself on a spill.

"Not yet." Brackett said evenly.

Dixie wasn't talking. She was using her steady trademark hard as nails, you've-got-to-be-kidding-me
stare to calm Roy down. "Dr. Brackett is anticipating setting up appropriate treatment and he's asking
you what issues Mike might have, ahead of the game, Roy. We are in a Triage station, remember?"

DeSoto got embarrassed about the obvious. "Well, ..uh.. b-because he was missing and wasn't found
near Johnny, they're thinking it might be a hostage situation. Vince says we're dealing with a sniper
who's also a strong candidate for being the arsonist who started the fire." he said, licking dry lips.

"Drink your coffee." Dixie ordered. "You're so thirsty, you're shaking."

Roy downed his in one gulp.

"And.." Kel prompted.

"He might have smoke inhalation, defensive wounds, ligature trauma, gun shots..." Roy ticked off
fearfully, holding his cup with two hands while Dixie refilled it from a thermos.

"And possible near drowning?" Kel asked.

"Drowning?!" Roy startled.

Dixie pointed a pencil back at the police scanner on broadcast behind them on a table. "The police
dogs are tracking along a river bank currently. Didn't you hear it?"

"I do now." DeSoto said unhappily. "Why aren't people telling me what the police are doing around
here in regular updates?!"

"Roy! Get a hold of yourself. You're a veteran paramedic who knows how to handle stress. Or so
I thought." Dr. Brackett barked sharply. "Do I have to pull you from being in charge?"

"No. I--" Kel's appraising look from head to toe at him, immediately sobered DeSoto. "I'm fine. Really I am.
I'm just very worried about Stoker. It's what firefighters do when one of us is missing." he said seriously.

"Hmmm." Brackett sighed, considering. "I get it, Roy. I guess I'm too lucky that Rampart's
nice and safe from all of the bad guys and nasty fires. But think about tunnel vision and rein
in your emotions enough today, so that they don't show on the outside. We've professionalism
to maintain as providers even when we're billing people for their ambulance rides." he grinned.

Roy crushed the empty styrofoam cup he was still holding."Done. Let me get rid of this,
and wash my hands. Then I'll help you guys set up." he said, taking a step forward.

"Hold it right there, Roy." Kel said, holding a hand against his chest.

"What? I thought you--"

"Give me your vest. I'm taking over for the next eight hours. Go out there and find your friend. He's
the only firefighter I've never seen come through my emergency department. I want to make it
a winning streak at the 100% visitation mark. I'll square it away with your incident commander
myself."

"Thank you, Dr. Brackett. You have no idea how hard it was being stuck here when Johnny was
in trouble."

"I have a good idea of how that was, watching you now." he said, raising an arch eyebrow.

Dixie handed Roy a backpack full of water, food and acute care medical supplies. "Do you need
an air bottle? The chopper pilot left us three sets before he took off."

"I'll grab it." Roy promised, hurrying for the exit.

"Roy!" Kel shouted after him.

DeSoto turned around as he was putting on his scba gear and looping his mask around his radio's holder.

"If I'm going to see Mike Stoker for the first time, I promise you that he's going to get the best care
that I can give, that's humanly possible."

"Appreciate it, doc." Roy said, fighting his emotion of relief, that he was back being part of a
major first responder solution.

The two of them watched as he ran out of the tent and into thickening fire smoke haze.

Image of dixlonghairmayfairnightclose.jpg

-----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
Lt. Dennis Becker, Vince Howard, Jim Rockford, Angel Martin and Sara Butler were relegated
to a brush fire staging area once a crown fire was spotted in the canyon, sending up fire
tornados.

A grizzled smoke jumper explained the reason behind their mandatory pull back order. "It's too hot
to go wandering around under there with our people or dogs. All those flames up in the tree tops
have eaten away most of the oxygen pooling below them. A dead give away is that there is
no more smoke at ground level. That's why the fire spires are so dark red. It's pure starved plasma.
You won't burn to death first entering an area like that, you'll suffocate. It's no longer safe for any
searches up the mountain."

"Then we'll search the edge of town as well as continuing along the water." Becker told the fire crew.

"It's at your own risk. Being near water won't save you from the lack of breathable air. Sign here."
said the firefighter captain. "This absolves the fire department from being responsible for your
department's operations under this Code Red alert."

Becker signed the slate with a flourish. "That's your man somewhere out there. Does it feel good
abandoning him?" he asked sarcastically. He had the pleasure of seeing the man's ears flush.

"He knew the risks when he joined the department." replied the jumper stonily.

"Bah!" the lieutenant exclaimed as he left the field crew to their fire break work.

Vince Howard sighed mightily when Becker returned to his squad car. "I told you they couldn't follow
us anymore."

"I'm not ready to give up on the arsonist or his victim!" Dennis bemoaned.

"I hear ya, Dennis. Are you allowing me and Sara to continue tagging along with you and your people?"
asked Jim.

"Hell, yes. Policemen aren't firefighters, but neither are they dumb enough to walk into danger. Consider
that little speech of the brush crew's head as education on what to watch out for in the fire. If we see
red flames, we head up wind, until all flames fall back into normal combustion orange color. I wasn't
born yesterday." Dennis grumbled.

"That's why I like you." Rockford grinned. "I knew when you busted me for the twentieth time in
my youthful years, that you were good people."

Angel Martin chuckled. "Those don't count. Most of those were minor charges as a juvenile delinquent."

'Shut up, Angel. My girl likes convicts." he teased Sara.

"So let's go catch one." Butler challenged all the men. "He's still running free and doing terrible things
somewhere out there."

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

Chet Kelly, Hank Stanley, and Marco Lopez were surprised when Roy DeSoto ran up to where Engine
51 was finishing up getting restocked.

"Roy? What's going on?" Cap asked succinctly. His tone suggested a questioning doubt about his
appearance seeming like he was going AWOL.

"I've been saved by the doc. He cut me loose to obey my first calling. I was getting too squirrelly,
they said. Let's go find Mike, Cap. I'm far past sick of waiting for something to happen."

"We're in the same camp there!" Hank agreed.

The others hurried to board the Ward La France.

"What about the squad?" Marco asked DeSoto. "It's stocked, too."

"I've got a mini one with me." Roy replied, patting the hospital trauma pack that he had received
from Dixie. "I'm all set."

"Okay, the last police search point was here." he pointed to the map he had laid out on the Engine's
front passenger seat. All of that red is firestorm. No entry."

Chet Kelly didn't look happy. He shared it, too. "Isn't that the area where Johnny was found?"

"Yes." Hank answered. "But the police searchers are convinced that whoever this maniac is,
he took Mike with him on his escape from the fire. We know a few things. The man recently
lost his wife. She's buried here in the church yard in town next to the river. Now the last
clear scent trail the dogs had before they were pulled back was here." Stanley pointed. "At
a low spot where a huge burning pine tree fell and burned to a pile of ash. If Stoker
were smart, he'd take to the river because it's flowing upwind and into safety. That's where
we'll concentrate our search."

"What? Just the four of us?" Chet wondered.

"We'll have the police department with us. They say they need expert eyes on the lookout for
crown fires or fire devils over airless pockets. The brush crew had to give up the mutual escorting
assignment due to emergency priorities. Saving the town comes first now, according to the state."
Stanley explained.

"Bullshit." Kelly grumbled. "Isn't that just like the tax revenue paid bureaucrats to preempt a public
servant's life, in favor of tax earning property. I'm sure Stoker would be very pleased that California's
already given up on him. They spend more for search time on mudslide and avalanche victims, than
they do for fire ones."

"That's because fire's a million times more lethal in so many ways. Wildfire survivability is next
to nil for anyone caught in one." DeSoto said.

"Mike's not clueless when it comes to fires!" Chet insisted. "He wouldn't get caught."

Cap's face was grim. "Enough talk. More action. So now it's just us, Vince and a city lieutenant,
along with a private investigator and two civilians to spot a new trail that might lead us to Mike.
If we need backup, IC's promised a chopper or two if we spot anything to cover."

"That's plenty of people, Cap." Chet nodded eagerly. "There's not much territory down river between
that dog scent dead end and the edge of town. Maybe... five hundred yards all total?" he said,
peering at the map. "We can put one team on one side of the river and the other on this side."

"But we'll both be half strength then, in resources and manpower." Marco frowned.

"That's all we've got, man." Kelly said. "We're sure better than nothing."

Image of 075e1fed442dcb643578df802353d76c.jpg

**************************************************
From: patti keiper <pattik1@hotmail.com>
Sent: Wednesday, August 30, 2017 9:06 PM
Subject: Face Off...

The sound of chopping jolted Mike Stoker awake. He coughed, also hearing the roar
of the wildfire as it slowly crawled toward the churchyard where he was being held hostage
by Blair Todd the arsonist. He opened soot filled, red eyes which instantly began to
burn in the heat of the air. They watered richly, and a bit more of his sight returned, allowing
him to see through the murky smoke surrounding where he sat bleeding out into the dirt.

He saw that the sniper had found a hand axe and was clumsily cutting off pieces of black
leather harness from two severed red and chrome tipped horse driving pull shafts.
The man's face was a pale white which matched his bloodless lips due to shock caused
by his impalement and disemboweling injury. "A-Almost got them, Father. And plenty of
binding to tie them! How b-big of a cross would you say would be right for my Louise?"
he trembled, hastily bundling up their tangled lengths into a ball so he could carry
them while crawling. He didn't seem to notice that his knees kept slipping and losing
traction on the pavement, because of his own eviserated colon and its hemorrhaging.

Stoker ignored the gory sight and squinted elsewhere. A few seconds later, he found what he
was looking for. Mike saw that a bright red power button light was still on and glowing from his
handy talkie. The radio was still going unnoticed by Blair, bundled inside of the leather straps
the arsonist was cutting from the crashed horse drawn steam engine's horse rigging.
"Those are fine, Blair. Bring them to me ... and we'll get started on building, okay?" he said
groggily.

Todd panted, only half conscious himself, as he looked back across the road to where he had
ankle tied his victim to the wrought iron fence. " I could go...go.. into the c-church and get one
of them new fangled gold ones from your altar! Wouldn't that be better, Padre?"

Stoker waved a weak hand at his assailant, gasping deeply, to stay conscious.
::He won't make it back if he tries. He's gonna pass out long before he gets there,
and then I won't have my radio brought close enough to where I can reach it.:: He carefully
pulled a heavy rock from the flower bed near him and leaned it on top of his stabbed foot to slow
its bleeding. He barely stifled a scream from the pain it caused once the weight settled.
::There's no way I'm going to be able to lift that up again. That took everything I had
to move it. But it's doing its job.:: he thought as all throbbing slowly disappeared from
the first stab wound into blissful numbness. "Don't be vain, Blair. Louise never
liked gold." he guessed, seeing the wink of a silver ring still on Todd's finger. "Those
pieces you have right now are fine enough for her. They're humble, but bright."

"...right... right you are, Father." Blair whimpered dryly. "I hear you. These will do."
he squirmed, getting inch by inch closer to Stoker with his burden of junk and the
hidden radio.

Stoker could barely hear him over the roar of the flames. Mike flopped back against the fence
and waited for Todd to return to him. Mentally, he also tried gauging the exact time they had
left before the forest fire caught up with them. ::We're upwind. But that won't last. Not if a
conflagration forms overhead. Then the fire will burn in all directions, in spite of the prevailing
breeze.:: "Hurry.. Mr. Todd. Louise can't wait any longer. She deserves to get to Heaven as
soon as possible."

'I'm coming as f-fast as I can. So shut up about that! Keep on praying for my wife! It's your job
to take care of her s-soul, preacher man." said Todd, a little stronger in his fear as he dragged
himself towards Mike and the new grave again. "I'm right here, Louise! With the Padre! You
won't be alone down there for long!"

That crazed plea worried Mike Stoker and sent a deep chill down his spine. ::Does Todd have
a new gun on him now? Is he planning on suicide after killing me first?:: All Stoker knew, was
that he didn't have any more strength left to fight off Blair if he decided to attack him again.
He bent his head over the hilt of the knife embedded in his thigh, and let himself give up
physically, on the outside. His badly scalded arm felt like it was on fire now. ::Good.
The nerves in my arm are still alive even though it's been peeled like an onion.:: He curled
tightly around the pain, but he did not let it smother his awakening sense of hope. A dull
moan escaped his lips in his agony.

"That's it, Father. Pray for her eternal life! And ours. I don't care if I die now. Not if she's
saved first. And I know you won't mind dying, too, in the fire. Because you're a good man!"
Blair laughed, both crazed and weak with pain. "There's no chance of a forever death for you."

Stoker began to shiver violently as his own shocked condition worsened, no matter how hard
he fought it. Mike Stoker tilted his head and looked through the lock of dirt caked hair that
was casting over his bowed face. He feveredly assessed Blair's progress. ::Won't be long now.
Then we'll see who's really in charge here.:: he thought sharply, ignoring the morass of misery
in his body.

He could almost hear the scrape of the handy talkie's metal buckle and leather casing getting
pulled along the steaming asphalt already.

Mike dismissed what he thought he began hallucinating over the crackling roar of the wildfire;
the faint, high pitched, excited baying of a bloodhound....

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

Jim Rockford watched Vince Howard and Dennis Becker run after the dog handler who said that
Hoover had finally caught an active scent. "So they go charging willy nilly into town, throwing
all caution to the wind anyway?" he said incredulously from the thick cover of hedge. "There's a
shooter out there!"

Sara Butler peered through the leaves next to him, watching the same sight. "I'm sure they know
what they're doing. They're cops, Jim."

"Pretty stupid ones if you ask me. At best, that dog'll get shot first instead of them. Now how
cruel is that? Okay... Come on,... we'll dutifully sneak on in after them then. But only from
inside of this good cover." he said, waving his revolver at the dense bushes hiding them from
open view. "Angel, it's not too late to change your mind. Why don't you blow this pop stand
before all the popo poo starts hitting the proverbial fan?"

Martin, shook gray soot and some burning embers quickly out of his curly hair. "Am I a man, or
am I a chicken?"

Jim's eyebrows finally crooked as he considered that in amusement.

His streetwise buddy caught his light look. "No, don't answer that. The truth really hurts, so I'm going
to use our little adventure here, to burn a few of those pesky, cowardly feathers off, if I may."

"Suit yourself. Stay behind me or you might get another hole in the head to go along with all the rest
of your other ones." Rockford teased. But then he put on his game face and got back into the hunt.

"Very funny. I happen to know that you're an excellent shot, Jimmy Boy. I keep faith in you every day."

"Just so long as I pay all my debts. Is that how it works, huh?"

"Hey, we're friends! Practically soul mates."

"Maybe with my wallet." Rockford grumbled, not happy with anything presently going on in the local
neighborhood.

Image of 1dc0790881876df054b3da57bdf794d03.jpg

"Sorry. My ex-bookie tendencies have yet to fade."

"It may be my marksmanship that you don't have to worry about, but have you considered theirs at
all?" Jim countered, gesturing to the three police officers taking point behind Hoover the hound.
"I don't think being in a fire fits their bailiwick well. See?" he nodded as Dennis Becker tripped
over a log hidden under dried leaves and brush. Vince Howard just barely caught the lieutenant's
gun hand to prevent an accidental weapon discharge. "They're getting tired. So are we."

"Speak for yourself." Sarah said, "So far, this has only been a very short mountain run with
some.... added bonus ....nature bling." she puffed, jogging to keep up with the men.

Angel scoffed. "She calls an out of control forest fire, 'A little bling'. Way to go Romeo Rockford.
You sure know how to pick em."

"I'm a raging optimist, Mr. Pessimist. Try not to enjoy all that negativity all in one place." Butler
chuckled, catching up to her date.

"I promise I'll try harder when the shooter finds us, Little Lady." he grinned back.

"I'll find him first. Right between the eyes." Jim muttered."He'll never see it coming."

"That better be your fists you're talking about, Jim. Fire only in self defense." Dennis
Becker shouted back, brushing ash and fried cobwebs off of his expensive trousers
vehemently. "Thanks Vince. I think we should slow down a bit."

"Good call." Howard nodded back. "A slip is a slip. But that could have been very ugly."

"My gun's safety's always on. Something a certain private eye could learn from." he
smirked, not looking back at the three civilians trailing behind.

Jim stopped in his tracks and made a face. When Sara wasn't looking, he flicked
over his revolver's safety setting with a click, biting his lip in self chastisement.

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

"We've got company!" hollered Marco from the front of Engine 51 where he was posted
as a look out while the others decided where to meet up with police on their search
for Mike Stoker.

Captain Stanley looked up and saw Vince Howard with an unfamiliar L.A.P.D. plaincloths
lieutenant, a uniformed dog handler, and three civilians in smoke stained clothes.
"Are these victims for triage?" he asked Howard.

"Been there. Done that, Captain." Jim quipped, taking a quick seat on the engine's side
runner board with relief. He also took the time to empty out the bullets of his gun so he could
clean soot and dust that had accumulated inside of its chambers. "Mind if we sit down?"

Hank extended a gloved hand. "Feel free. There are water bottles in a cooler underneath
the chassis. Help yourself. Grab one for the dog, too, officer."

"They're S and R volunteers. We're a little short handed right now. They're authorized
and all three have signed off properly." Vince shared, patting his pocket where the forms
were folded up and stashed.

"Can I see those?" Roy asked. "I'll add them to the paperwork stack back in Staging."

"I appreciate you saving me the trip." Howard grunted.

"How are they doing now? Medically speaking. They were first aided a few hours ago."

"They're fine. A bit argumentative between themselves perhaps." Vince shared.

"We're friends." Angel shot back.

"If you say so." Vince rejoined, not turning around. He continued his report. "After the dog
drinks up a few gallons, we'll be returning to back along the river. She's found a scent trail."

"We're going with you." Hank latched on eagerly.

"The more, the merrier." Vince agreed. "Only one thing though. That bright red fire engine
might make you fellas sitting ducks for the sniper if you drive it on town streets."

"That's bullet proof glass over the cab. And solid steel eveything else. If we stay inside
when cruising, we'll be safe enough." Cap shared. "Isn't drawing out the arsonist what
we want?"

"Not that way." Howard said, no nonsense. "If anybody's going to offer up be a target, it'll
be us. We've got the proper gear to handle it."

Chet Kelly took in a deep breath. "Criminals are your thing, I guess."

Marco Lopez finished handing out water to their visitors. "And the fire's ours. Let's
hope we don't get to play in the sandbox with those two anytime soon."

"Just so you know, officers. All of us are going to jump head first into anything it
takes to get Mike back." Hank Stanley replied.

'We're duly warned." Howard smiled. Even Dennis Becker grinned.

"Mutual aid it is." Jim Rockford nodded.

"Go, team!" Sara celebrated.

Bark! said Hoover the blood hound over her water bowl.

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

Blair Todd kicked over the leather straps pile to Mike. "You untangle those. I'll
start digging a post hole for one of these." he said, holding up the beautiful drive shaft
pieces with one hand. His other one was looped in his entrails, trying to keep any
more from pushing out the tear in his lower abdomen. "AhHH, I'm so sore, Father.
Why?"

"You're hurt." Mike Stoker told him, slowly inserting his good hand underneath
the leather reins and into them, until his fingers found the volume button. He turned
down the sound to zero and then fumbled around until he found the push talk button.
He pressed it."You should be at the hospital, Blair Todd. Not here at my church.
The fire's going to burn it down soon."

"I'm not going anywhere, Padre." Blair gasped, still kneeling on his wife's grave
and trying to dig a hole with the axe. "I won't leave my wife. Not any more."

"Look.. If we don't find shelter soon, there's not enough water in the world that
will be able to put out the flames before they kill us both." Stoker said,
fighting like mad to not look down at his radio to see if his voice was
getting relayed. "The air will drop."

"What?" Todd sighed, not understanding.

Mike abbreviated. "Air drop. Now. I mean, the temperature's going to climb hotter
than we can stand, Blair Todd. We can't just sit here in the parking lot next to
the graveyard."

"We can! And we will! We've got Louise's grave marker to make! So shut up!"
shouted Todd. "One more word outta you and I'll blow your head off!"
he raged, his rising insanity finally coming to the foreground. "Even if you
are a man of God!"

Mike Stoker wisely shut up when the muzzle of Todd's hidden Midnight Special
was suddenly pointed directly at his head. He tried not to think about the blood
dripping down the trigger, making Blair's finger start to slip as he trembled
and continued to make crazed threats.

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

L.A, County Headquarters became galvanized instantly. Mike Stoker's transmission
was shunted into a recording mode and given a priority patch to law enforcement.

Sam Lanier, the City of Carson's dispatcher under Battalion Seven's district, was the
fireman who first heard Mike Stoker's desperate call out on the off duty band on scan.
"Brent, listen to this. Doesn't that sound like Mike Stoker?"

"It sure does. Holy--" muttered his partner at the SCU panel.

Sam nodded agreement.
He activated an emergency patch to the Thief's Ridge Fire's network, sharing the live
transmission and the first moments of the call equally, with both the police and fire
department incident commanders at the blaze. He began his relay with a series of
county wide tones and an overriding hail. ##This is L.A. County to Battalion One,
and Police Chief Nine. A live transmission being received has been confirmed as
coming from our known missing, off duty fireman. Repeater tower shows the call as
coming from Retribution Street in Stoneview Heights in your fire area. Switch to Tach
3 to hear our recording.##

Sam waited until he had his two I.C.'s acknowlegements before he linked
their frequencies to Mike Stoker's. ##Firefighter is no longer speaking but
mentioned needing air drop support for immediate fire at a church parking lot
location. He is under active criminal duress. The adult male suspect may have a
weapon.##

##Send Copter Ten to 1417 Retribution Street. There's only one church in town!##
came Battalion One's snapped out order.

Image of lamorningrollcallheadquartersbutton.jpg

##Helicopter Ten copies, we've a full reservoir. E.T.A. Eight minutes.## replied
the chopper pilot.

##Stand by for the initial playback.## L.A. told them.

##We're ready.## answered Battalion One. The burly fire chief nodded at his
law enforcement counterpart standing on the hill on the other side of Staging.

The whole conversation Mike Stoker transmitted moments earlier to L.A.,
was finally heard.

"Blair Todd." grumbled the police I.C. "We have you now." He lifted his
radio to his mouth. ##L.A., we'll take it from here.##

##10-4, P.D.9. At 15:01.## Sam answered. ##The firefighter is not responding.
Will continue hailing HT 51.##

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

"Cap! It's Mike!" Chet shouted, practically ripping his jacket pocket as he grabbed
for his radio. "On our HT!"

With bated breath, the whole group of firefighters, police officers and Jim Rockford
and his party, listened to the tense transmission Stoker was airing.

Roy spoke first. "He doesn't sound good. Something's wrong with him past being
a hostage. Don't you hear the way he's breathing?"

"Shh.." Hank shushed, until the gun came out and silenced their engineer's clues.

Then only the mad man raged, his threats ringing in their ears over the radio.

Dennis Becker looked up quickly at the dog handler. "Let her go after him."

"What?" startled the canine cop.

"I said, let her loose, officer. And that's an order!" the lieutenant bellowed.

The dog man obeyed. Hoover lunged mightly. Then she was freed from her leash.
The tone of her baying intensified into urgent barks and yelps, leaving no doubt
behind in the humans that she knew where her target had gone. She splashed
along the water's edge, casting away from the fire and strongly upwind,
towards the edge of the evauated town.

"Follow her!" Vince Howard shouted, beginning to run.

"Down river, huh. That was smart of him. There was air to breathe, and water to cool things
off a bit." Jim glanced at Sara and Angel. "I think I know where that church is. Remember
that store window full of TV sets, Sara? When we first heard about Todd and then got my
car all shot up?"

"Yeah."

"I think that church Stoker's talking about is right down the block from there. I remember
seeing a steeple silhouetted against the fire while we were hauling arse outta there. It's
gotta be the same one. Come on, over this hill's a short cut!" he beckoned, still keeping
tightly under the shadow of bushes, shrubs and trees.

"But Jim! That way's going back into the fire!" Butler yelled.

The detective didn't hear her, so intent he was at catching his perpetrator.

Swallowing courage, she and Angel Martin ran after him, into the smoke.

At the Engine, Marco Lopez noticed. "Cap, did you see that? They just--"

"Let em do their own thing. They signed paper." Hank told him. "Whatever they do away from
us now is entirely their business, legally."

"Are we going there, too?" asked Kelly.

"Yes. Hit the reds. We're not slowing down for even one second!" Stanley shouted. "Roy, you
listen in on that radio. Maybe Mike'll tell us more about the fire moving in on him."

DeSoto snatched it out of Chet's hand and plastered it to his ear. "He's still breathing, I can hear
some wheezes around that nut case's shouting."

Engine 51 roared off of the park road and onto the main drag leading into Stoneview Height proper.
"Head for that steeple! See it?" Kelly guided Marco, who was driving while Cap contacted I.C.

"L.A., Engine 51. We're responding to the site of our man's transmission, Code R! Please respond
an immediate rescue squad and ambulance to stage three blocks away from that address, until
the police department clears us to enter!" Stanley said.

##10-4, Engine 51. At 15:04.##

**************************************************
From: patti keiper <pattik1@hotmail.com>
Sent: Wednesday, September 6, 2017 7:46 PM
Subject: Nut Juice

"Jim!" shouted Sara, as they rushed through the underbrush and down to an alley
which led directly to the only church in town. "Please tell me that you've got a
plan." Doubt appeared on Butler's face for the first time since their whirlwind
date began.

Rockford immediately stopped in his tracks and faced her with a grand smile.
Embers from the approaching wildfire snapped and popped around them like
fireworks on the fourth of July, but neither paid them any heed. "Okay. Total
honesty. I usually fly by the seat of my pants." he winked at her.

"Isn't it invigorating?!" Angel Martin praised as he hurried by in his nervous,
timid way, to take the lead ahead of them to their uncertain destination
near the sniper and his victim. "Let's just get this over with so I can go
home. Stay hidden, and you'll be fine, Sara. Works for me."

"What if he sees us coming?" Butler asked, insisting again for a little more
caution by the scared tone in her voice.

Rockford remained still, one eye on their target area a block away."Sara, I've
never been here, but I remember the layout of this church and its ground like
the back of my own head. I was driving on pure adrenaline while we were
getting shot at. That's the perfect chemical cocktail to suddenly gain total
recall of your surroundings. I know exactly where I'm headed."

Martin saw that the others weren't keeping up, and his brief courage
fled. He doubled back to them. "Did your life flash before your eyes, Jimmy
Boy? I never have that kind of luck. I always get myself shot and pass out
long before it happens."

"Yeah." Rockford told him. "But you always manage to get winged
in an arm. I always catch one in same d@mned foot every time. It's why
I walk with a limp. No, I didn't see my life laid out in gory detail. He
was a horrible shot. I was more mad than terrified. The guy was an
idiot for taking pot shots at the sweetest sportscar known to man.
It should be a cardinal sin to shoot up a gold Firebird, for Pete's sake! If
he's stupid enough to do that, it's practially guaranteed that he's
not watching his back. He's still concentrating on doing Neanderthal
things like tormenting that poor firefighter. Aw, hon." he said, hugging
Sara when tears suddenly appeared in her eyes."I"m not gonna put you
in danger. That's the farthest thing from my mind."

"That's because getting revenge on that jerk is your first priority."
declared Angel. "My kind of guy. You see, Sara? Jim's teaching me
to learn how to live up to my first name for real. In the past, I
haven't exactly been a saint."

"Neither have I. Far from." Rockford admitted, "I've always been
mostly a dare devil who always has the worst luck."

"Not when it comes to getting the bad guys. Jim always wins, Sara.
You can count on that." Martin told her seriously. "Rockford's more
bulldog and Doberman than that hound dog down there tracking the
sniper."

The sound of a toppling, burning pine tree tore them out of their
mini huddle quickly. They were forced by a curtain of raining embers
to flee the woods, into the protection of the open concrete alley
behind the church.

They fetched, backs up against a row of silver metal garbage cans, next
to the church's brand new congregation dumpster. Jim's face hardened
instantly when they suddenly heard the sniper's voice echoing around
the alleyway, yelling and screaming at Mike Stoker.

"I can't let you go, Father. You're my wife's only hope of heavenly
salvation!" roared Blair Todd. "Quit nodding off! Keep working on
that cross like I told ya, and I'll finish up this hole for it."

"He's digging up his wife?! That's crazy for you."
Rockford gestured at Angel and Sara to duck down behind the
receptacles for concealment. "He might see our movement through
the stained glass windows." Then he looked around for a bit. "I've
got an idea. Here." he told them, quietly yanking off two of the dullest
metal garbage can lids. "These aren't that reflective. We can use them
as shields when we sneak up on him. They work really well against
bullets."

Martin accepted his and passed off the second to Butler. "Isn't he
cool? He's lying about not having a plan. This one's the best! I've
seen it before."

"You have?" Jim did a double take, partially distracted at figuring out
exactly where in the graveyard Todd was, by the bouncing sounds of
his threats and continual raving. "You've followed me hunting armed
bad guys before? We'll talk about that later, Angel." Rockford frowned.
"Now tell her about the two way rock throwing distraction trick."

"It won't work." Martin tsk'd. "The fire's way too loud now. I can't even
hear those approaching fire engine sirens any more. But I can see
them." he said, pointing down into town to prove his point.

Three blocks away, Sara, Angel and Jim, saw Engine 51 park in the middle
of a four way intersection, a safe distance away from any possible shooting
range.

Rockford's eyebrows rose happily.
"Ah, now that's better. Lady luck's on our side today. Why risk our own
skins? We're not getting paid the big money to do it." Jim grinned,
"You're right, Angel. Todd's expecting police and fire to show up in
the area. How about we wait for the arrival of Dennis and his bunch,
too, to really attract the arsonist's attention away from us? Then
we'll make our move. There's no way in H*ll that he'll expect an angry
middle aged man in a checkered suit, in his face."

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

"We beat the cops here?' Kelly wondered as he, Marco, Cap and Roy
bailed out of the Ward La France.

"They're on foot, following a running dog. Of course they're slower." Hank
told Chet.

"But.."

"But nothing. We still follow procedures, Chet. We don't enter the
scene until it's Code 4 and cleared by police first. " Cap added. "Even
if we want to go rushing in there with a stokes, come H*ll or high water,
and are chafing all our shorts about it until the cows come home."

"There's nothing stopping us from setting up medically. Is there?"
DeSoto asked. "We can use the engine to block any line of sight from
the church."

"Do it." Cap nodded. "We're not going anywhere until we have Mike.
This is tough, but we know he's alive, from this." he grumbled, holding
up his H.T. that was still broadcasting every twisted word Blair Todd was
spouting off at their engineer over the emergency patch priorty channel that
L.A. had set up. "Set up for multiple victims. Stoker did tell us the shooter's
hurt." Hank watched the expressions on his men gel into neutrality at that.
"No," he answered. "We're not going to handle that guy directly for any
treatment. We're too involved. Chopper Five's paramedic crew is going
to, so we can concentrate on Mike's care exclusively."

Lopez was surprised. "I thought we couldn't do any medical on direct
crew involved with a criminal."

Hank shrugged. "We're the closest. The size of this fire allows a few
rules to go out the window. There are only so many of us to deal with
people needing help. Roy, what do you need?" I'm just a waiting grunt
like everybody else who's Fire, until the cops tell us it's safe to go in."

"My triage pack, the demand valve resuscitator, a burn pack, and plenty
of saline. Oh, and the M.A.S.T. trousers. I think that dog handler said
a tree fell on Mike and the shooter by the river. If he's got internal
injuries, even wide open I.V.'s aren't going to be enough to stave off
his shock. He sounded pretty weak over the radio transmission."

"What are his chances?" Stanley asked.

"I don't know, Cap, without seeing him first." Roy replied.

Hank swallowed his worry dryly. "I've called in four companies and that
water drop crew to hold any wildfire flare ups away from us."

"Let's hope it'll be good enough." DeSoto sighed.

Image of gagehospitalbedembarrassedgrin.jpg

----------------------------------------------------------------------------------
Mike Stoker's pain exhausted eyes remained locked to Todd's around
the muzzle of the gun pointed at him, but his ears were ever attentive
for the telltale rotor 'fwap' beat of an approaching water drop run. ::Come
on Chopper Ten. Read my mind. It's not the fire I want you to dump on.::
he thought wearily. ::I hope you spot me, and see what's going on here with
this gun.::

"You're pretty quiet, Padre." Blair Todd said. "It's like you haven't even
seen that I already got it done." he whipped a bloody hand behind him
at his wife's grave.

There Mike saw a neat and tidy red and chrome metal cross, tied together
with black horse reins, stabbed upright at the head of the burial mound. The
crucifix suddenly doubled and tripled before Stoker's blurry eyes.

"Shouldn't you be praying now? I'm listening! Real good." Todd taunted,
blinking sour sweat that was effecting his vision. "Pray for Louise's eternal
soul so she can be conducted into Heaven like you said. She's still
rotting in the ground!"

Stoker coughed wetly, and finally put out a challenge. "How sincere
will I be with a gun pointed at my head, Blair? Prayers cannot
be coierced, or they mean nothing to G*d." he said softly, finally
closing his smoke aching eyes. It barely put a dent of relief in the
white hot pain he felt washing up from his scalded forearm and
hand. He took in a deep breath and waited for Todd to make a decision.
::I either die, or I live. I'm so tired of fighting.:: Mentally, he gave up.

"Well?" came Todd's raspy voice. "I'm still waiting."

Mike didn't open his eyes. "With me now. Our Father, who art in Heaven."

"...Hallowed be thy name." Blair echoed, suddenly shaking in
every limb. Tears began to drip down his gory face as grief suddenly
sharpened. "Thy Kingdom come.. They will be done on Earth.." he sobbed,
staring at Louise's final resting place. The gun began to sag in his grip
towards the ground in his growing weakness.

"..as it is in Heaven." both men whispered.

Line after line of rich prayer flowed from their cracked lips and into
the smoke that was slowly thickening about them in the churchyard.

"Forgive us the wrongs we have done.." Todd broke off, suddenly
comprehending the words he was speaking. They began to show him
the full extent on the error of his ways.

Mike Stoker raised his voice. "..as we forgive the tresspasses that
others have done to us. Do not bring us to hard testing.."

A roar of a helicopter blasting by over the church steeple stifled
all sounds of the fire like a bright benediction. Mike Stoker raised
his hands up in the air before the gun Blair still held in exaggerated
surrender, sending out a very clear message to the pilot in the air.

"..But keep us safe from the Evil One. Amen!" he shouted at
the tearful Blair. "Go forth! And sin no more!"

A huge deluge fell from the sky. A water dump of many hundreds
of gallons of ice cold lake water landed directly on top of Blair
Todd and flattened him with the full force of its impact as it
rained down noisily. Then it was gone and Todd fought to reach
the gun that had bounced away from his fingers in the mud.

"A baptism, Padre?" he drooled bloody trails. "I'm
ready to go. And you're coming with m---"

From out of the bushes, Jim Rockford leaped. He caught the sniper
in a full tackle. They grappled in the slime, belly to belly. "Angel! Grab
his gun and throw it into the river!" he grunted, wrestling fingers that
were locked onto his face like a clamp.

"But-- I hate guns!" Marin panicked.

"Just do it! If you don't touch the trigger, it won't go off!" Jim gasped,
finally drawing his feet up and planting them against Todd's stomach,
kicking him backwards. "Sara! Keep covering us with mine! Shoot
him if he makes another grab before Angel does." Rockford
yelled, scrambling to his feet to go tackle him again.

"I don't want to shoot you by mistake!" Butler shouted, scared.

"Do you two want this... lowlife... to shoot you?!" he gurgled, struggling
like mad with Blair in a chest to chest grapple.

Angel shouted in fear and made a brave dash forward for the fallen gun.

Todd wasn't stopped by pain. He was long past that point. He
punched Rockford in the face, stunning him. Jim fell and Blair
crawled up on top of him in a mad scramble for his revolver. Blair's
hand snaked out and landed on top of its grip before Martin's.

Angel began to simper and scrambled away backwards, knowing
himself instantly in mortal danger. ::I am a dead man.::
he thought.

Jim Rockford lay moaning on the ground, half conscious, near by.

Todd's trembling gun levelled on the two of them and suddenly
Sara's knees went weak. She could no longer aim. At all. ::Will it
hurt more than the fire when I'm shot?:: her mind wondered.

Blair's finger began to tighten its bend beneath the gun.

Image of a164de2240afc06d84a23a612a2a3fba.jpg

Image of the.bionic.woman.s03e02.dvdrip.xvid-saints.avi_001797960.jpg

**************************************************
From: patti keiper <pattik1@hotmail.com >
Sent: Tuesday, September 12, 2017 2:38 PM
Subject: Final scene... for Burning Water, Episode 58...

A shot rang out and caught Todd right between the eyes.

Sara screamed, startled, staring at her own weapon. But
hers hadn't been the one to fire. She cocked its safety
back on and dropped it at her feet in shock.

Blair collapsed with a fountaining hole in his forehead and landed
face down on top of his revolver hand, neatly pinning it.

Vince Howard ran forward with his smoking Glock 34 still pointed
at the downed sniper. He did not approach Todd. "Becker! Check
him!"

"Where'd you drill him?" Dennis asked, reaching quickly
to feet drag the arsonist away from the fallen gun.

"In the head. He was squeezing down on the trigger.
I had no choice." the burly police officer replied.

Becker finished separating Todd from the revolver. Then he
felt Blair's neck. "He's dead. That sits fine with me. Call
in the fire department!" he shouted at the dog handler.

"Then today's problems are well and truly ended.." said Angel
happily. He jogged over to Mike Stoker who was sitting sagged
against the fence and very still. "I'll free your firefighter.
That ankle looks like the circulation's been cut off."

"Don't move him while you're doing it." Dennis barked,
collecting the criminal's weapon. "He's badly injured."

"Jim!" Sara shouted, unfreezing from horror. She rushed
over to the P.I.'s side.

Martin crouched by Mike Stoker and moved the pile of horse
reins off of his lap. The fireman engineer jolted awake and
flung his arms up weakily in a warding off defense. Angel
caught both of his wrists. "Whoa! Hold on, buddy. I'm a friend.
I'm helping you out a little. I came with the police."

"They're here?" Mike croaked.

"Yes. Now give me that. You're gripping the radio so hard,
that I can't get your fingers loose." Martin told him. "I'll call
everybody in for ya. Then I'll do something about that blue
foot of yours." Angel carefully started peeling away Stoker's
grip on the H.T.. Stoker's burned hand was sticking to it and
that made Angel almost sick to his stomach.

Mike cracked open swollen eyes. "The fire... It's too close."

"Tell me something I don't already know." said the Italian
man. "The fire department's only a block away. I can see
them. They'll break us out. Now shut up so I can call in
the calvary!" Martin grimaced at the blood coating the
push to talk button. He quickly pressed it. "To everybody
in Fire Land! Your man's safe, but he's not that sound!
There's another guy who got beaned, too. Send in everything
you've got! You know where we are!"

Then Angel pitched it over his shoulder to land in the dust,
ignoring the frantic dispatcher and fire department incident
commander trying to hail him back. He dragged out a buck
knife and cut away the leather belt that Blair Todd had been
using to keep Stoker prisoner, from around his ankle.

Mike made a soft sound of pain that lanced through Angel's
heart, as circulation returned right down to his numb toes.
The injured firefighter passed out instantly, into Martin's arms.

"Hey, no. Don't do that. Don't do that!" Martin urged, catching
him, so Stoker wouldn't fall. "I don't know what to do!!"

"What's the problem?!" thundered Vince's booming voice.

"He fainted!" Martin yelled back. "Yhjuhyyyyyyyyy!"

The burly policeman snatched up Todd's weapon, disarming
it. "Lay him flat, face up. Then tip his head back and hold it
that way so he can breathe freely. I'll be right there!"

Dennis Becker looked up from making sure their scene was
safe around them. "Looks like Todd was working alone! Go
ahead!" he told Howard. "I'll go check out Rockford!"

Sara Butler had Jim's head in her lap, calling his name urgently,
trying to wake him. Dennis crouched down next to her and felt
the P.I.'s pulse. "It's there. Was he stabbed during the fight?"

"What?" Sara blurted out in confusion.

Becker pointed next to her at a bloody knife lying a short distance
away from them.

Butler glanced at it, stunned that she hadn't noticed it before.
Then her eye caught something. "Uh, I don't think so. That blood's
dry. He was punched in the face from what I saw."

Dennis touched Jim's jawline where he saw a rising bruise
above the pulse point he was monitoring.

The P.I. groaned, but didn't wake up.

"You're right. He just had his bell rung." he grinned. "He'll
shake it off in a few minutes. This codger's tough as nails."

Butler immediately sighed in relief.

"I'll go help out Vince with our hostage victim. He sounds
serious." Dennis told her.

Sara nodded and watched Becker jog over to Stoker's side.
She could see Mike was beginning to breathe shallower and
more rapidly in the thickening smoke. "He needs oxygen!" she
hollered.

"We know." replied Vince, who was checking Stoker's bleeding
around the impaled knife. "Paramedics are two minutes away. He's
holding his own so far."

Angel was so stressed out, that he was babbling."I think that's
the best looking dead body I've ever seen in my entire life, officer.
Mr. Stoker, don't worry about that total loser who got us all into
this mess. I promise you, he's already started pushes up the daisies."
he blinked at Becker. "He hurt our best friend, Dennis. We should let
him BBQ in his own fire."

"Nah, uh. He's evidence." Becker grinned tightly, wrapping up Stoker's
stabbed foot that he had found underneath a slab of tipped rock. "The
state'll get more relief money to help out Stoker and any other victims
of the fire, if we have a clean criminal trail leading to his act of arson."

"And attempted murder." Vince said about Stoker's wounding attack.

Sara shook herself as her head began to clear from her adrenaline rush
over Jim. "How does that second knife fit in?"

"I figured it out." Becker reached over and picked up one of Blair's hands.
He showed off the underside of the inner palm. It was shredded with
deep slices. "He must have been weak from being partially disembowelled.
He lost dexterity and cut himself repeatedly while making that." he said,
casting his head towards the handmade crucifix on Louise's grave. The
black reins constructing it were brown with dried blood. It was the same
color and matched the blade Dennis had spotted earlier.

"He didn't know what he was doing to himself?!" Angel asked, horrified.

"It's possible to become super human and not feel anything much pain
wise when you're dying. I've seen it before." Howard answered. "Mike
Stoker's still reactive to his. A good sign." Vince shared. He had finished
immobilizing the knife handle sticking out of Mike's leg with dressings
from his tactical pack."But this stable plateau of his won't last long.
The man needs an immediate surgeon for this foreign body and his burned
arm, a.s.a.p.."

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

Johnny Gage was hollering at the top of his lungs on the pay phone. "What
do you mean that's all he said?! You've got to know more!"

L.A. answered coolly. ##The civilian on Fireman Stoker's channel keyed off
and hasn't broadcasted again. You know as much as I do, Fireman Gage.##

"All right. Thank you for taking my call, Sam. Yes, I know you won't be able
to call me back with better news later on. Sorry for tying up your switchboard.
Bye." He hung up the phone.

Rocky was just as frustrated and irritated as Johnny was. "Did I hear that
right? That two men were hurt at the church, and one other guy was dead?
Who's the dead guy?!"

"I don't know, Rocky. Don't you think I'd want to know the specifics to that
answer, too?!"

"Sorry." said the old man with the snowy white hair. "I keep forgetting your
friend's also out there. But so is my son!" he roared, getting mad again.

"Okay, fellas. Now cool it!" Dixie hissed, finally resorting to turning down
the fire department scanner above the E.R. desk as a control measure.
"I just got back from the noise and chaos of the brush fire. I don't need
to hear any more while I'm at work."

"Hey!" "We were listening to that!" complained both Rocky and Johnny at
the same time.

McCall calmly took charge by walking to her stool after retrieving
a coffee mug from the counter and pouring herself a cup. "Both of you are
getting far too worked up for your own good. Johnny, you're a patient and
Rocky, you were one very recently. Now how good would it look if a relapse
or a collapse happens right in plain view of the waiting area? Are you trying
to make the hospital look bad by running amok and creating a scene with a
verbal disturbance?" Dixie gestured.

Gage, sitting in his wheelchair, immediately became embarrassed and sank
down in his seat until the back of it hid his face. "Sorry. I'm being such a..
a... gomer. And so's he."

"Huh?" sputtered Rocky.

Johnny just started chuckling. "I finally understand what you've been talking
about all these years, Dixie."

She accepted his apology with a java toast thrust gracefully into the air.

Rocky scratched his head. "What's a gomer?"

Johnny sighed, rubbing his newly reddened face. "It stands for "Get. Out.
Of. My. Emergency. Room."

"Oh?" said the P.I.'s old man. "Well, I'm not embarrassed in the slightest.
I've got family involved!" Rocky insisted.

Gage nodded sympathetically at his companion. He was also eyeing up
Dixie mug of hot coffee jealously. "Hate to break it to you. But she's
right. Those public folks are directly involved in why they're here. They
trump us, Rocky. They're future patients. I think we should shut up."

McCall nodded slowly in a tired yes. Then she reached down into a supply
cabinet and pulled out a folded pinkish beige wool blanket. She held it
out to Johnny.

"What's this for?" he asked.

Dixie started grinning. "It's gonna get a little chilly hanging out by the
ambulance entrance, waiting for two more future patients."

Gage's face cracked open in a huge smile. "Oh, you're onto something
beautiful, Dix!"

She shrugged. "It's the fastest way to getting any reliable news to friends
and relatives that I know of."

Johnny started laughing openly. "Come on, Rocky. We're going to be a pair
of wall flowers." He threw on the blanket over his shoulders to hide his
patient gown and the rest of him. "If you push me, the orderlies'll think
you're just loading me up in a car to take me home as an outpatient.
Then they'll leave us alone." He unhooked his I.V. bag from a chair pole
and stashed it behind his back to hide it. "How do I look?" he asked McCall.

"Like you're trying to sneak out. Here." she said, grabbing the vase of flowers
sitting on her desk that past visitors had given her in thanks, on their departure.
"Keep these in your lap. Now you really look like a discharged outpatient.
I'll meet up with you once I know that Stoker and the mystery man are arriving,
soon."

"Thanks!" said the grateful pair. The peace that reigned after they had left
lasted only seconds before the first waiting room relative came up to the
desk in equally flustered worry for a loved one. McCall sighed and dutifully
returned to work.

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Burning Water