It was even more glorious than he could have hoped. He had worked hard to support his God and had also been able to vanquish two of the enemy machines. He looked at the men strewn around the ground in front of him and wondered how many would never get up from their prone positions and then started to frown as men started to spring up, however hoses were not gushing forth the weapon of the enemies of his God.

There were shouts and he felt his arousal rising as he watch the chaos, the futility of the actions of those men in front of him.

Then he saw movement of one he had been closely watching. The one who had taken command of the battle. He was easily identifiable by the white stripe on his helmet. He hated this one. Not content to just give orders, he had been in the thick of things, still commanding, giving orders. Standing almost head and shoulders above those he commanded.

His enemy rose to one knee, breathing heavily, before rising and swiftly looking around, taking in the state of the battle. He raised his HT to his mouth. "All units – Engine 51 is out of action. Engine 10 take over pumping from the Hydrant." He paused as he heard the calm voice of his Engineer requesting another alarm and notifying Dispatch of the need for a tow truck.

Frowning, Hank Stanley looked at the confusion that was costing them time. It was unavoidable, but he didn't like it.

The wailing of sirens in the distance heralded new appliances arriving to help. He looked to see both his Engineer and the Chief come towards him. Stoker looked like he'd gone a few rounds with the road, and the Chief was breathing heavily.

He wanted to get Stoker checked out, but he needed to know the situation with his crew. And…. His heart broke a little as he took in the sight of Big Red and the Squad.

"Mike…. Get yourself checked out and cleaned up. But first – what's the condition of the Crew?"

Mike shook his head. "Gage and DeSoto are being dealt with and are probably going to Rampart. Engine…. She's taken some bad damage, Cap. That wasn't an accident – somebody did that to her!" Hank almost smiled to hear the pure anger in his Engineer's voice. He knew the feeling. It was something you learned early on at the Academy – never, ever touch the Engine (or Truck) or face the wrath of the Engineer.

The Chief stepped up, but waited to speak as Hank once again sent orders out to the remaining crews and set again in motion the business of getting the fire out.

"Hank… Lopez and Kelly are on their way to Rampart. They are pretty banged up. And I've ordered your Paramedics to stand down when another squad arrives – which it has."

"Thanks Chief. Stoker – you're stood down. Go get yourself cleaned up. And if the 'Medics say you're going to hospital, you're going to hospital, Pal. I do NOT want Dixie asking me why I didn't order you in when she gets a look at your face."

It was all too much for the watcher hidden not 10 feet away. If his God was to win this battle, he would need to act quickly to take out those who coordinated the battle. Take out the Leaders, and the rest crumble he thought, vaguely remembering an instructor at the Academy. Take out the Leaders…..

From hiding within his clothing he pulled a gun and then screwed a silencer into the barrel.

Take out the Leaders…. The gun was raised and he aimed at the tall man with his back to him who he had decided was his true opponent. The Leader….. He pulled the trigger and then turned slightly and pulled it again, this time aiming at the one in the white helmet and the third man with the messy face.

Hank turned slightly and took a step forward to the right. It saved his life, though he wouldn't realise that until much later. He felt what seemed to be a white hot wire pass through his body and looked down to see blood blossoming on his turnout coat as he fell to the ground with a grunt. He felt a weight on his legs and saw the Chief collapsed over his legs, body limp.

Mike had seen his Captain start to fall and he leapt forward. "Cap!" As he moved he felt something strike his coat, and then sear itself along his back. He landed awkwardly, his legs tangling with the men on the ground. A blossom of pain went through his elbow as it connected with concrete, causing him to cry out in pain and tears to fill his eyes.

Hank was panting in pain and as he moved the HT to call for assistance he found his Engineer sprawled next to him. "I need medical assistance immediately," he tried to bark, but it came out breathless. "We have 3 Code I. The Chief and I are down, along with Stoker." He could hear the Captain of 10's acknowledging and taking over the scene, could hear shouts and running feet. What seemed to be a forest of blue-clad legs around the three of them.

A familiar figure had lowered himself painfully between he and Stoker. "Aren't you and John supposed to be on the way to Rampart?"

"Ambulance hadn't arrived yet," Roy said. His left wrist was heavily bandaged, and bruising was beginning to show on his face. Behind him John Gage dumped the Biophone on the ground.

"You can relay for us," he said to his Partner. "With that wrist you aren't able to do much else." John was starting to become aware of an aching in his right leg bug ignored it. He had a job to do first.

Hank was aware of another pair of Paramedics trying to untangle the mess of men on the ground. He could feel the weight of the Chief being removed from his legs and groaned as pain elsewhere made itself known.

"Easy Cap," Johnny said. "I'm gunna have to get you out of your jacket and shirt. Just stay there and let me do the work."

"I've heard that before."

"DeSoto – I've got vitals for the Chief. We need Rampart now!"

"On hit. Hit me with them." Roy juggled pen and pad with his good hand and started to take the vitals for the Chief with a sinking heart. "Where is he hit?"

He saw a convulsive swallow. Roy recalled that this man was less than a year out of Paramedic Training. He slipped into his role of Senior Paramedic easily. "Keep calm. You know the drill. Stay focussed on your patient."

A short nod was the response. "Upper left quadrant of the torso. Entrance in the back. No… no exit wound. Patient is unconscious."

"Good work. Be prepared to get an IV ready and also get him on O2 now. Let's get an EKG ready as well." He turned to the Biophone. "Rampart this is Squad 51." Pause. "Come on….. Rampart – this is Squad 51" It was with relief that he heard Moreton's response. "Rampart we have three victims – possibly gunshot wounds for all three. One is unconscious, two conscious and no signs of concussion. Prepare for vitals for patient one."

Hank listened as Roy relayed information as well as encouragement. He had been aware of John taking his own vitals and of pressure against his side, an IV being established and then blessed pain relief.

He was detatched and one part of him was amazed at how fast it was all moving. He took in what he could see. Mike was cradling his arm against himself and had an IV hooked up as well. That face of his must have been hurting. Still….

"Mike? Good work." Hank said it with genuine pride. His Engineer had, as usual, performed his duties outstandingly, and had acted quickly when things started to go pear shaped with the engine. "I'm sure that Charley will get Red up and running again, just as good as new," he reassured.

"Cap – I just can't work out what happened to her. One minute she was working like normal and the next – wham! That wasn't natural. In fact, I can't think of anything that could go wrong with her that would cause that sort of cavitation and explosion."

Johnny finished immobilising Mike's arm and bandaging a long burn along his back from where he was grazed by a bullet. "Water hammer?" he asked as he sat back up.

He then raised his hands and almost cringed back at the glare that he got from Mike, and the slightly groggy one he got from his Captain. "Just askin…."

"I do NOT get water hammer."

"Keep your shirt on Mike. It's a possibility." John gulped and physically shifted backwards from Mike Stoker – but right into the sole of a large boot that he knew belonged to Captain Stanley.

"Red and I do not get water hammer, John." Mike's voice was icy, and the tone also closed down John's speculation as if a steel door had been closed on it. John felt Cap's foot nudge him.

"Twit," his Captain said mildly. "Not water hammer. But… I've seen something like it before. Damned if I can remember where though."

"Cap? You're mean to be lying back and not doing anything," Roy said mildly.

"I am, Roy. I'm lying here not moving. I'm just trying to work out what has happened. And the rest of you had better start trying to put your pieces together, because this is an arson, and the arson guys will be asking us all what we saw, smelled, and heard."

"Cops as well, Cap," John put in sadly. "We got a dead firefighter."

Hank sighed and closed his eyes. "Fuck. I knew this was gunna be a shitstorm run. The Chief Engineer is gunna be pissed. Who was it, John?"

"Bob Atkinson," Johnny said, his voice breaking slightly. "He didn't deserve it, Cap." As he spoke, he was helping to lift his Captain onto the gurney and then drew a breath in sharply as his leg protested his movement.

John missed Roy's narrow eyed look at him, his focus on his Captain who reached and grabbed his hand. "Nobody ever deserves to die in a fire, John. It's why we do what we do." Hank Stanley closed his eyes, the pain lessened but not gone. "And John? Make sure that you get that leg of yours checked at Rampart. Don't make me have to tell them myself about it."

"It's OK, Cap," Roy put in. "I'll make sure he gets checked out."