Chapter Five

Mike felt wrong sitting in his Captain's seat. Marco had to remind him the seat belt was on his right side. Not that it mattered, he couldn't buckle on his own if he wanted to. His fingers still working against him. He accepted the help from Marco gratefully, thankful he wasn't getting looked down on for his lapse in strength, what he thought was a lapse in strength. He looked out the window, his mind still in work mode; looking out for soft spots in the road, obstacles, or tight turns, now that he could actually see them. His foot automatically reaching for the clutch when he felt Big Red struggling to change gears.

"Who was supposed to cook tonight?" Chet asked, trying to bring some normalcy back.

Mike looked back and shrugged. He realized he was clenching his fists again. He needed to stop that, especially if he wanted to drive the rest of the shift.

"Has estado-" Marco began asking, but stopped when Chet smacked his shoulder. "Oh, sorry." he sheepishly said. "Have you been listening to the radio?" he tried again, this time in English.

"Sounds like they've gotten it mostly contained." Hank answered.

"Maybe they'll send us home?" Marco asked hopefully, referring to their station.

"Man, Gage and DeSoto won't believe what happened." Chet said, hoping they hadn't been listening to the radio interrupted.

At Brush Fire Command, Hank pulled the engine up alongside the water tanker. He put it in park and hopped out the driver seat. "We're pretty much dry." he said to the tanker operator. If the operator noticed the white striped helmet climbing out of the driver's seat, he didn't say anything. Hank walked around to his normal seat and helped Mike down. He said to Chet, who was already out of the engine and standing protectively next to the engineer, "Why don't you take him and find some food." Hank said. Chet, and a still shaken Mike, turned around and began following their noses. "And get some for me!" he yelled after them. Marco, who had joined them, waved to indicate he heard. Hank had something he needed to do. He hunted down the Battalion Chief, wanting to report to him face to face. He had some questions. Stanley found Chief McConnike standing under a tent outside the mobile command unit.

"Saw you driving the engine in, your engineer alright?" was the Chief's greeting.

"Little shaken, it was pretty close." Hank admitted.

"Don't blame him." he replied. After a moment, "We're returning units and you're the first to go before you ask." he said with a smile on his face. "I know that's twenty five percent of why you came over here."

Hank was taken aback, "What do you mean twenty five percent?" He wasn't used to his agenda being so transparent.

McConnike smiled, "You were planning to ask me four things." he held up four fingers, "One, are you getting released?" he put down a finger as he listed the reasons. "Two, can you break for food if you aren't getting released? Three, if you aren't getting released, where are you going next? And last but not least, 'Continue for the top of the canyon?" he quoted himself with a sarcastic air.

Hank cleared his throat in a haphazardly manner, "I wasn't gonna ask you about that, sir. At least not out loud." McConnike laughed, "You were my engineer for a while Hank, I haven't forgotten your tone of voice." he slapped Stanley's back laughing. Hank couldn't help but join, remembering a few occasions from their past. "Join your crew, eat, then go home. I'll make sure your engine is fueled."

"Thanks Cap." Hank said smiling, letting the old title easily roll off his tongue.

"That's insubordination I'll have you know." He said laughing. "Get outta here." McConnikie added fondly. He was thankful his favorite engineer had made it out of the pit of fire, the one he put him in.

EEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE

It had taken the rookie forever to get to Rampart. Not able to follow the ambulances going lights and sirens, he had gotten lost. Finally, Roy was in the driver's seat again, returning the borrowed lineman. The calm voice of the dispatcher allowed them to return to their own station, at long last. They were so stressed at the unknown outcome of their crew, they weren't even excited. Everyone they asked either hadn't heard or didn't know. On their way back to Carson, Johnny said "We can just call headquarters."

"Unless they have someone monitoring every radio channel, which would be damn near impossible, they wouldn't know." Johnny's face fell. "They aren't running Brush Command from HQ." Roy reminded his partner.

John nodded, picturing the mobile command unit and the base radio station inside. "Damn it." he muttered under his breath. He jumped, "Hey, they have a landline don't they?"

"If they answer, I can imagine they're a touch busy." Roy said, stopping at a red light.

"Well I'm gonna try anyway, I can't just sit, not knowing" Johnny countered.

"I'm right there with ya." Roy answered honestly.