Disclaimer: "Emergency!" and all associated characters belong to Mark VII and Universal Studios. Original characters belong to the author.
Warning: language
Yesterday's Embers
Chapter 1
"Alright men, listen up." Captain Hank Stanley glanced between his clipboard and the five firefighters standing at attention in a line before him. He slowly paced the distance from Mike Stoker on his far right to John Gage on his far left. He felt the heat of the five pairs of eyes following him slowly as he turned around and began the return trek.
As soon as Hank's back was turned to him, Johnny cut his eyes at his partner, arching an eyebrow in silent communication. Roy, who understood him without the use of spoken words, answered with only a shrug.
Chet however, failed to find the self-restraint that the paramedics had somehow managed. "Uh, Cap…something wrong?"
"What's that?" Hank looked up from his musings and into the blue eyes of the curly-haired lineman, confused by the obvious gulp his question elicited from the younger man.
"Um, is something wrong?"
Hank lowered his clipboard to his side. "Ah, no…nothing's wrong. Dismissed."
"But Cap…what about our chore assignments?"
"Oh…right…thanks, Marco." Hank glanced back down at his clipboard. "Roy, you're cooking and cleaning up the day room. Marco, apparatus bay. Chet, dorm and Johnny, latrines."
"Ha, hop to it, Gagey-baby." Chet clapped his hands together rubbing them briskly in his usual show of victory.
The rest of the men headed off to begin their assignments leaving a grumbling Johnny turning slowly toward the latrine and a very confused Mike Stoker standing stoically in formation.
Hank took another peek at his clipboard then began his return trip to his office.
"Cap? Cap, uh…what about me?"
"Oh yea, Mike…I need to see you in my office please. I have a…well, a special assignment for you."
Chet tapped the back of Johnny's arm to get his attention.
"What the hell'd he do?" Chet asked using his stage whisper voice.
"I dunno, Chet…I really don't know."
E!
"Take a seat." Hank dropped his clipboard down on the desk as his engineer sat down.
Mike couldn't help but notice the Los Angeles County Fire Department stationary on the letter attached to the clipboard as it landed on the desktop beside him. He leaned forward placing his elbows on his knees synchronizing his movements with Hank leaning back in his seat. "Soooo, what's this special assignment?"
Hank was beginning to second guess himself but reached across his desk and removed the memo from its secured spot and handed it to Mike.
Mike accepted the proffered single page and began perusing its contents. By the time his eyes reached the signature line he was smiling. "Wow, this is a great idea. And it was Chief McConnike who came up with it?"
"That's right," Hank said with a grin as he reached out to retrieve the memo. "I've been trying for years to figure out how to get back in his good graces after the whole..." He paused with a grimace. "Well…you know."
"You never did tell us why you burned his hat."
"Not going to either." Hank shot back. "So, I was thinking of volunteering us for this assignment."
Mike felt his mouth suddenly go dry as the words 'volunteer' and 'us' continued to linger in the air between the two men. "Um, so you…ah, you want the six of us to develop a proposal?"
Hank felt the heat rising up from his collar and settling along the tips of his ears. "No…not exactly."
"Not exactly?"
"Well, you gotta admit, Mike. John can't handle the stress without freezing up."
Mike's blue gaze fell to the floor as he remembered Johnny's miserable live interview with Roy on a television show.
"And," Hank leaned his forearm across the desk as he looked seriously at the younger man. "Can you imagine what McConnike would do to me if I allowed Chet to get involved in this?"
"Yea…might be worse than the hat burning." Mike fished for details but his superior wasn't in a biting mood.
"I was thinking maybe just you and me. The others wouldn't have to know what we were doing. And," he raised his finger for emphasis. "If ours is chosen then we make Chief McConnike look good which…"
"Which might put him in a forgiving mood?" Mike interrupted.
Hank opened his mouth to speak but his words were quickly overtaken by the sound of the klaxons.
E!
The men of 'A' shift at Station 51 abandoned their morning chore assignments and began boarding their respective emergency vehicles as the voice of Sam Lanier echoed throughout the building.
Station 51…child trapped on a roof. 8904 McGhee Lane. 8-9-0-4 McGhee Lane. Cross street Edwards Circle. Time out 08:48.
"KMG-365," acknowledged Captain Stanley as he tore the slip of paper off the tiny pad and passed it to Roy on his way to his seat on the engine.
Roy passed the white slip of paper over to his partner then tightened his chin strap as the bay doors rose. Johnny, having consulted the wall map on his way to the squad, pointed his finger to the left directing Roy to the address with Mike and the engine crew following close behind, red lights flashing and sirens blaring.
Traffic yielded to the two emergency vehicles allowing them to hurriedly make their way to the scene. Roy screeched to a stop beside the curb in front of an older white two story home with gray shutters and shingles. The red front door opened quickly spewing forth a frantic young woman wearing ragged jeans and a pale blue t-shirt splotched with red and yellow paint.
"Oh, please hurry….he's…he's gonna fall," she wailed combing her hands through her chestnut colored short hair.
"Ma'am, please settle down…now tell us what's wrong." Hank's commanding voice was both assuring and a bit startling to the young woman.
Back at the engine, Marco, Mike and Chet had already seen the impending disaster on the roof of the tall structure.
Chet emitted a low whistle. "Daammnnn," he muttered softly, more to himself than to anyone else.
Roy saw the engine crew with their necks craned towards the roof. He shielded his eyes from the sun with his hand as his eyes searched for the source of their amazement. "Oh no."
"What?" Johnny asked squinting upwards as well. "Oh…"
Hank held the floundering young woman by her upper arms as she fought for breath to explain the predicament her son was now in.
"I…I was painting his room…and…I left the window open…for the air to…to circulate and…and I looked around…and he…he was gone and…when I called him…he cried out for me…" The child's mother allowed her head to drop to Captain Stanley's chest as she continued between sobs. "He…he's on the roof…beside the…the weather vane."
Hank's heart skipped a beat when he looked up and saw the young boy crouched in a crevice and holding on to the spinning turbine. He could tell by the color of his cheeks that he was both scared and crying. He was soon surrounded by his men anxious for their assignments for this rescue.
"Cap, I think Johnny can get to him from the open window."
Hank looked at Roy and then nodded his agreement. I want the rest of you up there anchoring his lifeline and Johnny, use a belt to secure the boy to you before you attempt to walk back across that roof with him."
"No problem, Cap." Johnny answered. "Uh, ma'am…what's his name?"
"A-Adam."
"Alright," Johnny responded following the woman's gaze back to the roof. "Does he have any medical conditions?"
"No…nothing." She stuttered never taking her eyes off the frightened child.
"We'll have him down in just a few minutes, ahh." Hank looked at her questioningly.
"Joyce…Joyce Collins."
"My men will have him safely back inside soon, Mrs. Collins." Hank remained standing with her as a patrol car arrived on the scene.
Hank watched nervously as his crew retrieved the supplies they'd need from their vehicles and made their way inside the home.
"Whatcha got, Hank?"
"Well, kid crawled out the open window and now he's attached himself to the weather vane up there." Hank spoke to Vince Howard without looking at him. His eyes were fixed on the open window as he waited for his men to reach their destination.
Vince stood beside Mrs. Collins pulling his pen and pad out of his shirt pocket while matching the stance of the other two people standing near him; their heads tilted back silently praying that young Adam would not move until Johnny could get to him.
Inside the room, Johnny quickly wrapped the belt around his waist while Roy secured it with a rope. The three men positioned themselves away from the window with Marco acting as anchorman as Johnny folded up his thin frame and crawled out the window inching closer and closer to the place where Adam sat transfixed.
"Hey, Adam…my name's Johnny…just hold real still for me, a'right?"
The young boy, who reminded John of a five year old Chester B. Kelly, stared at the black iron rooster perched atop the metal 'X' on a pole. His body was rigid with only a few tufts of hair blowing around his face from the early morning breeze.
"Good job, kiddo," Johnny continued in his most soothing voice as he slowly crept along the high pitched roof closing the gap between them. "A little more slack!" He shouted over his shoulder.
Inside the room, the three men slowly released more of the rope prepared to stop Johnny's fall should he slip. Sweat beads formed along Mike's upper lip and along his brow but he never relinquished his grip on the rope. Marco leaned back heavily using his stouter build to secure the lifeline while Roy stood steadfast in his place nearest the open window. Finally, they heard the signal they were waiting for.
"A'right," Johnny's voice floated back inside the open window. "I got him and we're heading back to you guys."
Hank heard Mrs. Collins gasp when Johnny reached out and secured her son. She wrapped one arm around her midsection while she dried her wet cheeks with the other.
"He's got him now, Mrs. Collins. Let's go inside…I'm sure he'd rather have you holding him than my paramedic." He smiled down at the obviously relieved young mother.
Johnny eased back to the window and released Adam into the waiting arms of Roy. He then slipped back through the narrow opening and began removing his belt while Marco wrapped the rope around his elbow and hand coiling it to be stored away until the next time it was needed.
"Let's have a look at you." Roy said carrying the young boy over to his bed and laying him down on the black and red comforter. "You hurt anywhere?"
Tearful brown eyes looked back up at him as Adam nodded his head negatively in answer to Roy's question. "I bet that was scary, huh?"
"Adam? Adam?" Mrs. Collins burst through the bedroom door pushing Mike and Chet aside in an effort to reach her son. "Don't ever do that again," she admonished amid a flurry of hugs and kisses.
"Ma'am…he seems ok…just a little frightened. Why don't you let us look him over just to be sure though?" Roy smiled at the mother and child.
Mike stood back looking around at the room obviously decorated for a young boy. There was a fire truck mural about three quarters finished on the wall opposite the bed. A large stuffed Dalmatian stood sentinel near the closet door and a toy red helmet, yellow jacket and black boots lay crumpled at the foot of the bed. He couldn't help but smile to himself at the irony of the situation wondering if perhaps young Adam Collins might one day benefit from the work he and Hank were about to begin on for what would soon be affectionately called 'The McConnike Mission.'