"Godzilla and The Smog Monster"
Chapter Ten
John waved his bright blue diamond stamp in the guy behind the counter's face and stepped nonchalantly back into the nightclub.
Although the music was blaring just as lively and LOUDLY as ever, the costumed couples no longer felt much like dancing.
Gage felt a little guilty about that as he made his way back over to the bar.
The fireman held a brief, half-shouted conference with the bartender, who then placed a quick call to his boss.
The barkeep's lips moved. Then he replaced the phone's handset and leaned across the bar. "He says a lady magician has been staring at the front entrance, ever since you two clowns came out and crashed the party!"
The paramedic looked appropriately apologetic and began backing away from the bar.
John spotted their 'missing suspect' almost immediately.
'Gillian' wasn't the only patron wearing a magician's costume. But she was the only lady magician who couldn't seem to take her anxious eyes off the club's front entrance.
Gage saw the Sheriff standing at the base of the spiral staircase, and hurried up to him. "Tell Lieutenant Bristol that there is a fourth 'dope fiend'! Her first name's Gillian and she's wearing a magician's costume!" He'd been keeping one eye on the girl the entire time. Which is why he noticed her suddenly turn and bolt for the EMERGENCY EXIT at the back of the room. "Hurry! She's getting away!"
Arnie headed for the front entrance.
John headed for the back exit.
In hindsight, it would probably have been much wiser for the two men to have reversed directions.
Security alarms began sounding, as the lady magician blew through the emergency fire exit and out into the alley.
The paramedic went dashing out the same door, just seconds behind her.
The fireman tackled the fleeing female from behind, and the pair went rolling across the dirty, damp alley that ran in back of the building.
The disco's fire exit door closed, and John suddenly found himself grappling with the black-costumed girl—in total darkness.
'What if she's armed?' the paramedic suddenly pondered, about three brash actions too late. 'You've slowed her down. Let the police handle it from here.' He released his grip on the invisible young lady.
Gillian started scrambling to her feet.
Instead of trying to stop her, the fireman began crawling back over to the nightclub's EMERGENCY EXIT, hoping to place a 'safe' distance between the two of them. Gage grunted and groaned involuntarily, as the feisty female proceeded to give him a good swift kick in his already tenderized ribs. He groaned again, mentally, as he realized that—even in such poor lighting conditions—his bright, white shirt must make for a pretty damn good target.
Things suddenly grew even gloomier for John Gage when the woman draped her long black cloak over the fireman's head and began whacking him on the top of his hardhat with her magic wand.
Between 'thwacks' the paramedic could hear the sound of running footsteps—approaching from both ends of the pitch-black back alley. He decided to 'play dead'. At least, until all the guns—and suspects—were put away. So he slumped—face down—onto the cool, damp pavement and then lay there…perfectly still.
The footsteps drew closer and closer and finally stopped, just a few feet from his head. "POLICE! Don't move! You're under arrest!"
Gage exhaled a gasp of relief and started to pull the long black cloak from his head.
"I said FREEZE!" the policeman ordered icily.
The fireman FROZE. "Uh-uh…You got the WRONG guy!"
"I can see every move you make!" the cop continued. "And I'm warning you! You make another one…and it'll be your LAST!"
John swallowed hard and lay there, feeling almost too scared to even breathe.
"I've got him covered. Check 'im out, Denny…and be careful! The others were armed!"
"I'm a paramedic with the Los Angeles County Fire Department," their suspect tried to explain, as the cloak was pulled from his head. His arms were wrenched back and his hands were folded onto the back of his head.
"Su-ure you are," the officer frisking him taunted, "and we're with the Russian Ballet!" The cop pulled several items from a leather holster on their suspect's belt. "Nasty! Very nasty! Not your usual weapons, but lethal—all the same!"
"What are you talking about?" the paramedic demanded. "I'm not carrying any 'weapons'! Lethal or otherwise! I'm tellin' yah, you're making a HU-UGE mistake! Please? Just check my wallet! Check my badge and I.D.! You'll see! I'm tellin' yah the TRUTH!"
The officer pulled the wallet from their suspect's pants' pocket and passed it back to his partner.
John squinted, as a bright beam of light was suddenly shone in his face.
"Well, I'll be damned!" the light shiner quietly exclaimed. "We DO got the WRONG guy!"
The paramedic exhaled an audible sigh of relief and untensed.
"B-Bu-ut…" Denny stammered, "we came in from BOTH ends of the alley! He can't be the WRONG guy! There's nobody else out here!"
John shoved the flashlight out of his face. "Look…kin I get up now?"
"Sure! Help him up, Ben."
Ben lowered his drawn weapon and obligingly assisted their former suspect to his feet—er, his unsteady feet. "You okay?"
"Yeah," Gage replied—er, lied. The fireman was a far cry from okay.
In just the past thirty-eight hours, the sleep-deprived paramedic had been:
Trapped in a burning building—twice!
Shoved off a cliff
Chased by an angry Doberman
Forced to take part in a chest-compression marathon
Screamed at for twenty minutes
Given a plain-clothes police officer's version of the Heimlich Maneuver
Kicked in the ribs
Whacked over the head with a magic wand
A-and scared half to death, by a couple a' trigger happy cops—who had just threatened to blow his brains out!
And those were just the highlights!
The firefighter braced his weary body against a trash bin and silently vowed that he would never chase another purse-snatcher, 'dope fiend'—or any criminal of any kind—EVER again!
"I don't get it..." Ben flashed his light's bright beam up and down the alley. "Where could he have gone?"
"He's a magician, ain't he?" Denny reminded him. "Maybe he pulled a vanishing act?"
"He's a SHE," John corrected. "And she has to be here. I would've heard her lea—" he stopped talking and started tapping the trash bin he'd been leaning upon. He picked the magician's cape and wand up. He draped the black cloak over the bin and then tapped its lid three times with the wand. "Hocus pocus! I'll bet yah a million…that when you open this lid…you will find Gillian!"
Light flooded out into the alley, as Arnie suddenly threw the EMERGENCY EXIT door open.
John passed the magic wand to Denny. "Funny, you guys don't sound Russian." That said, the Los Angeles County Fire Department paramedic spun on his heels and disappeared himself—back inside the discotheque.
TBC