Author's Note: Hello, dear readers! Thank you for the wonderful feedback! I've decided to finish this story before I go back to Through the Flames. It shouldn't take more than a couple of chapters, and it's practically writing itself.

Marbo-no worries! I don't get tired of your questions, and I love your reviews! They are a highlight of my day. Yes, the McGillicuddy mentioned is the same one who shows up in Through the Flames. He's just a bit younger here. This story is taking place about nine years before the events of Through the Flames. I agree with you about Johnny being a blond — it just doesn't seem right! He's not going to be happy when he realizes what happened there, is he? You're right that Eddie is not the brightest bulb. Hopefully that will work in Johnny's favor! Of course, you know there will be more angst in this chapter, right? :)

Thanks again to Piscean6724 and katbybee for being awesome beta readers, and to my son for asking the right questions to make me think through angles I didn't consider at first.

•◊•◊•◊•◊•◊•◊•◊•◊•◊•

Shawna had never been much for kids, and she still wasn't. Even so, when she saw the little girl's bright red cheeks, she couldn't help worrying over the tyke. She was a nurse, after all… at least, she had been before she let Eddie talk her into this craziness. He'd been obsessed with revenge ever since that cop shot Orville last year and the paramedics let him die. But why did he have to take it out on a three year old? Oh, she understood his basic reasoning — Gage wouldn't cooperate without some serious motivation — but this little girl had nothing to do with Orville. And today, she was sick. Shawna touched the back of her hand to the child's forehead. Yeah, she was burning up. Well, she could still be motivation, but it would have to be from a distance. Shawna was keeping her here. She just had to make Eddie think it was his idea. He was easy to manipulate. She smiled as she thought about it. Just put on the meek and subservient act and pretend that I'm only thinking of him.

He came lumbering out of the bedroom, looking like a thundercloud. Shawna shivered. When Eddie was in a good mood, she could deal with him pretty well, but when he was angry, he got scary. Problem was, she could never know for sure what to expect. But at least she knew one fail-proof way to improve his mood. She covered the kid with a blanket, then glided across the room to meet Eddie. "You're up awful early, Baby," she said, keeping her voice low and kind of sultry. "It's barely getting light out. C'mon back to bed… I changed the kid and got her back to sleep. She's awful sick — be glad you didn't come out before I got her cleaned up — it smelled awful! Now, just let me wash my hands so I don't pass on any germs to you, and then I'll come back to bed and give you a nice massage, and maybe we can… enjoy ourselves a bit?"

He stopped for a second and seemed to be thinking about it. As she had expected, he turned around and shuffled back to the small bedroom. After washing her hands, she went to join him. She squeezed some lotion on her hands and began massaging his bare back, carefully working out the knots in his muscles.

While she worked, she found herself daydreaming. She couldn't help thinking that if things were different, she might be massaging Gage's back instead. The paramedics back home were always flirting with the nurses. Gage was real good-looking, and even with all the drugs in his system, she could tell he was a gentleman… at least, compared to Eddie. That little girl sure loved him, that was for sure. Shawna had never known a man who was so protective, willing even to let himself be used and mistreated just to keep a little one from being hurt. And the crazy thing was, she had a feeling that he would do the same for any other child, even one that wasn't special to him. Maybe she was just imagining that based on Max, the paramedic she had been crushing on before Eddie came back into her life. Why didn't she get to have a man like that? It's the company you choose to keep, Shawna-girl. Mama's voice echoed in her mind. If you decide to bed down with a pig, don't be surprised if you end up wallowing in the mud.

When she could feel that Eddie was relaxed, she kissed his back and then whispered in his ear. "I better get things ready for your day, honey. You'll need some diapers and a way to clean up the kid while you're out. It's a good thing I washed those clothes she had in her little backpack. I'll send them along in case you need to change her, which you probably will. Whatever bug she's got, it's real nasty."

He stirred slightly and wrapped an arm around her. "Stay here," he murmured drowsily. "You keep her today. Don' really need her no more anyhow. I got Gage under control."

Shawna had fallen in love with Eddie when he transferred to her high school as a senior. He was a rebel, a bad boy, something totally different from the boring good guys she'd grown up with. Exotic. More exciting. For the first time, though, she was starting to understand what Mama said the first time Eddie came to the house for supper. "Don't sell yourself short, honey. You're worth better." Daddy hadn't tried to cajole her — he'd flat-out forbidden her to see Eddie again.

For a while, Shawna had obeyed. She did what was expected: graduated high school, got her nursing certification, landed a good job, dated a boy Daddy approved of. But then Eddie came back into her life last year when he was running from the cops, and she'd let him talk her out of all of it. And what had that brought her to? She was living in a remote cabin that barely had plumbing, with no way to leave and no idea how to get back to civilization if she did leave. She didn't have a phone or a TV or even a radio. And all she got to do was take care of Eddie and keep Gage and the little girl sedated and confused and hope Eddie actually made good on his promise to split his profits from the bank heists. More likely, she thought, we'll both be doing jail time, if he does what I think he's planning and actually kills them both. No, she wanted out, and today she was going to figure out a way to get out, if it was the last thing she did. And she definitely wasn't going to stay in this bed to let Eddie do whatever he pleased with her. Another of Mama's predictions was proving true — "One day you're going to wake up and regret your choices, Shawna… I just hope when you do, it isn't too late!"

Well, she was wide awake now. Thankfully, Eddie wasn't. She slipped out from under his arm, murmuring as she did so, "I'll be right back, baby. I just gotta use the restroom." He was so drowsy now, he wouldn't be awake long enough to realize she hadn't come back. She couldn't leave of course — not while the little girl was still here and pretty much defenseless — but she could plan her escape and make her preparations.

Once Eddie's snore was echoing through the cabin again, she tip-toed across the dimly lit room to Gage's cot and sat on the edge of it. She hoped that he would be at least somewhat coherent when she woke him. She needed to talk with him, and she really needed him to understand.

•◊•◊•◊•◊•◊•◊•◊•◊•◊•

Megan. The little girl's name was Megan. Johnny had awakened to find her curled next to him, and he bent to press his lips to her tousled hair. She whimpered in her sleep, and he thought maybe she was having a bad dream. Her little body radiated heat. He wished he could talk, say something comforting, do something to help her. But at least for the moment he had remembered her name. His brain was still sluggish, and he wouldn't say he was exactly clear-headed. But he could tell there was a difference.

I'm not going to drug you this morning. The woman's voice flitted through his mind, and he vaguely remembered her talking to him, he wasn't sure exactly when. But you've got to pretend. You can't let Eddie know. She said a lot more than that, but the only other thing he could remember was, Trust me… I'll take good care of your little friend. I'll make sure she gets home.

Now the big guy… Eddie… was unlocking him and pulling him roughly to his feet, jostling Megan. She cried softly and clung to him. "C'mon, Gage," Eddie growled. "You've got more work to do today. Leave the kid and get up." He looked over his shoulder and barked at Shawna. "You didn't knock the brat out like I told you to!"

The woman swooped in and pulled Megan into her arms. "I told you, baby, she's real sick. I have to be careful what I give her, or she'll be throwing up, and I only have the one change of clothes for her."

Eddie shrugged. "Whatever… but when we get back, you're knocking her out. I don't wanna listen to her whine all evening."

"Of course."

Johnny just stood still, listening, head down, eyes fastened on the ground. He didn't want to risk Eddie getting a look at his eyes, because they might give away the fact that he wasn't drugged. Pretending didn't really take too much acting. He had a killer headache, and the sores in his throat and mouth hurt like crazy — without the drugs coursing through him, he was starting to notice it. He was still confused and processing slowly, and he couldn't remember much of the last… was it days… weeks? He didn't know. He sure hoped the plan didn't depend on his memory.

"Arms up," Eddie ordered. Johnny obeyed and his captor strapped a vest on him. It only struck him after the last padlock was snapped shut that it was a bomb vest. Was this part of what he had been doing every day? He wasn't sure what else to expect, but he knew he couldn't take the risk that the vest might detonate in the cabin, where Megan and the woman were at risk. He needed Eddie as far away from Megan as possible. And so, he submitted as his captor covered the vest with a loose-fitting jacket. When Eddie gave the word, Johnny shambled after him like a dog on a leash, stumbling out the door and down the steps, and let himself be pushed into the back of a van, chained in place, and covered up with a tarp.

"Don't think anything is different today because the brat isn't with us," Eddie growled before he slammed the back doors shut. "All it means is, she'll live a little longer than you will if you mess things up."

A chill went through Johnny at that threat, and he felt a sudden panic. He wasn't sure what Eddie expected, so he didn't know how he could avoid messing it up. Trust me. The woman… did she say her name was Shawna?... had said that. Maybe she was planning to take Megan home while Eddie was gone. Clinging to that hope, he tried to relax as the van started up and lurched into motion. It didn't matter what happened to him, so long as Megan was safe.

•◊•◊•◊•◊•◊•◊•◊•◊•◊•

The kid started howling as soon as Gage walked out the door after Eddie. Shawna held her close and rocked her, summoning whatever maternal urges might be lurking deep below her surface to give her the patience to deal with the trouble she'd made for herself. "It's OK, sweetheart," she soothed. "You'll be back with Mommy and Daddy soon, I promise."

She hoped she was right. There wasn't much she'd left for Gage to remember — he just needed to make sure he gave the bank teller the note she had written and stashed in his jacket pocket. As long as he did that, and as long as Eddie failed to notice that Gage hadn't been drugged again, her plan should work. She doubted Eddie would notice—he wasn't all that observant, and he trusted Shawna way too much.

Eddie also didn't know that Shawna had hedged her bets when she first agreed to take part in this crazy caper. Hidden in her duffel bag was a handgun, her dad's Colt 1911 from when he fought in World War Two. He'd taken her to the range when she was younger and taught her to load and fire it because he said a woman ought to know how to defend herself. When she'd packed her bags to leave home, she'd borrowed it and a box of ammunition, just in case. She had thought about just using it this morning, but she really didn't want to take a murder rap, and dad always taught her, "Never, ever aim this at anyone you aren't absolutely willing to kill." She didn't want to kill Eddie, but if she absolutely had to, she knew she was ready. She'd also considered injecting Eddie with the sedative while he was sleeping, but she was afraid to try it. If he woke up and realized what she was doing, he would kill her with his bare hands before she could finish, and then where would the kid be?

So, Shawna had resorted to subterfuge. She had exaggerated the child's symptoms, but there was no question the girl really was sick. From the way she kept tugging at her right ear, Shawna guessed it was an ear infection. She wished she had some meds that would actually help, instead of just the stuff Eddie had instructed her to steal back in Portland.

She shifted the girl into her left arm so that her right hand was free to rummage through her purse. Ahh, there it was… a box of Luden's wild cherry lozenges. Sucking on one might at least help ease the pain. "Hey, honey… I've got something for you. Suck on this… don't bite it. Good girl. Now, I'm going to lay you down and see if I can find something else to help you feel better."

She carried the toddler into the bedroom and lay her down on her own side of the bed — it was cleaner than the pile of blankets and had to be more comfortable. For a moment she stood there, wondering whether kids that age tended to roll off beds. Finally, just in case, she made a barrier of pillows. Then she grabbed a washcloth and took it to the bathroom sink to hold it under a flow of lukewarm water — she hoped it would help bring the child's fever down.

A few minutes later, she sat next to the little girl on the bed, sponging her down with the wet washcloth and singing a lullaby her Mama used to sing to her. "Hush-a-bye, don't you cry, go to sleepy little baby. When you wake, you shall have all the pretty little horses."

When the child snuggled close to her and drifted off to sleep, she was surprised at the surge of pleasure she felt. Maybe kids weren't so bad after all.

•◊•◊•◊•◊•◊•◊•◊•◊•◊•

Driving down the 110 freeway, Eddie kept fighting the need to yawn. He switched on the radio, hoping that some rock and roll would wake him up. After he fiddled with the dials for a moment, Led Zeppelin's Stairway to Heaven came crackling across the speakers. He listened through the first half of the song before he got bored and turned the dial again, stopping when he came in on the middle of Aerosmith singing Train Keeps A-Rollin'. Now, that was more like it. He drummed his fingers on the steering wheel and soon was wide awake and singing along, letting the stress of the last week slip away.

It had been an exhausting week without much to show for it. With all the miles he'd driven, he'd blazed through the take from that first robbery just to keep the gas tank filled. Then there was the need to deal with not one, but two captives, and everything was made that much worse by Shawna and her nitpicking. Shawna had done her part in all this, he had to give her that much. When he'd skipped bail, he'd looked her up again because he knew she was smart. She was also naive — as far as he could make out, dating a 'bad boy' was her way of getting a little adventure in her boring life and thumbing her nose at her strict father. At first, he'd figured, as long as he kept stringing her along with promises he had no intention of keeping, she would help him avoid getting caught, and she could do the messy work he wasn't interested in handling, like cleaning up a snot-nosed brat. But he could see she was getting attached to the kid. That was the problem with women… you never could count on them not going soft. Besides that, she was so damn bossy. Yeah, it was time to cut bait and get out of Dodge. Today he would get rid of the dead weight — first Gage, then Shawna and the kid. This afternoon, he'd head north on back roads until he got out of state, and then he would get on the interstate and drive till he found a likely spot to settle down and start over.

But first, he had a statement to make. His one regret was, Gage couldn't appreciate the irony of it. He hardly knew up from down at this point. They wouldn't even be looking for him here — Eddie had been bouncing around on the map, keeping his distance from Gage's stomping grounds, for a reason. While Crockett was still trying to figure out which town Eddie would strike next, he would be right there in Carson. Eddie wasn't sure if Gage's shift was on duty today or not, but he hoped they were. He had it all planned out. He wasn't sending Gage into a bank this time. He had chosen Station 51 itself for Gage's bon voyage. He would park in a little cul de sac a few blocks from the station, get Gage out, and send him off to his home away from home, with the countdown on the timer set so the bomb would detonate about the time he turned into the station driveway. Poetic justice, he thought, letting Gage get blown to smithereens in 51's very own front yard.

Everything in Eddie itched to watch it happen, but for once he was going to listen to what he'd started calling his "inner Shawna." He needed to do that more if he wanted to get along without her. As soon as that bomb went off, police would swarm the area, cordoning off roads and checking vehicles. He'd switched out the plates on the bus so it wouldn't come up as stolen, but it was only a matter of time before some overzealous cop realized that the plates and the bus didn't go together. Nope… he would watch till Gage was out of sight, and then he would drive away and see it all unfold on the news later that night.

The music was starting to give him a headache. Eddie heard Orville's voice in his head — That ain't music, little brother. It's noise — and he guffawed. Orville preferred country to rock. As Eddie merged onto the 405, he twisted the dial again to tune into a country station, just in time to catch the beginning of Orville's favorite song, I'm a Lonesome Fugitive, sung by Merle Haggard. "Well, if that ain't a sign, I don't know what it is!" He turned up the volume and hummed along. "This one's for you, Orville," he crowed. "It's all for you." And then he joined Merle on the chorus: "I'd like to settle down, but they won't let me. A fugitive must be a rolling stone. Down every road there's always one more city. I'm on the run, the highway is my home."

•◊•◊•◊•◊•◊•◊•◊•◊•◊•

Eddie's choice of music didn't do much for Johnny's headache. It didn't help that he was blasting it loud enough that even the far back of the vehicle vibrated with it. The switch from hard rock to soulful country was something of a relief, except that Eddie insisted on singing along, and his voice wasn't exactly easy on the ears. Johnny's discomfort was only made worse by the tarp over him. He had never really been claustrophobic before, but now he felt like he was suffocating.

At long last, the vehicle stopped, the music was switched off, and Johnny heard the door slam shut. He was more awake now — probably thanks to the music — but he knew he had to convince Eddie that he was still out of it. He closed his eyes and waited for whatever was to come. Soon, he heard the back doors creak open. Eddie pulled aside the tarp with a whoosh, and Johnny felt fresh air on his face. It felt wonderful. It was all Johnny could do not to suck in a deep breath and sigh with relief.

He kept his eyes shut while Eddie fiddled with the vest, then unlocked the handcuffs from his wrists and pulled him up and out. "Hurry up, Gage, while the coast is clear," he growled. "Open your eyes and take a good look around. You know where you are?"

Johnny let his eyes rove his surroundings, then answered with a nod. Of course, he knew where he was. 223rd was just the other side of those houses and from there, the station was just down the street. He could walk there in his sleep.

"Then you know where you're supposed to go," Eddie barked. "If you want the kid to live, you won't let anyone stop you. I'll be watching you, Gage… go there, go up to the door, and ring the bell. You got twenty-five minutes on the clock."

Twenty-five minutes? Johnny shuddered. His brain was too fuzzy to do math, but he didn't think it was long enough to make it to the station and back.

Eddie chuckled cruelly, as if he'd read Johnny's mind. "Oh… and you ain't comin' back. This is the end of the line for you, buddy. But you better believe, I'll be watching. Do exactly what I said, and I promise the kid'll be back with her Mommy by suppertime. Now get!"

Johnny swallowed hard as he trotted toward the end of the cul de sac, where a sidewalk cut through the trees, leading to a small open park. He wished he could remember the rest of what Shawna had said. He hoped she could find a way to protect Megan. For now, though, just in case, he had to do what Eddie said. Every guy at the station would agree. Megan came first.

•◊•◊•◊•◊•◊•◊•◊•◊•◊•

Just west of Fire Station 51, Jed Hammond noticed the guy out of the corner of his eye… he was stumbling along 223rd, wearing a jacket that practically swallowed him up, clearly strung-out on something. Jed recognized him instantly. He'd seen the sketch on TV and knew the fellow was a dangerous bank robber.

"Quick! Pull over!" Jed grabbed at his wife's arm and gestured to the side of the road. "Right now! Park here!"

"Jed! Knock it off! You'll make me have a wreck!" She pulled over, though, and parked, then turned off the engine. "What is it?"

He rolled his eyes. She was always so impatient these days! "I mean it, Pam… I saw that guy… the one that was on the news… the bank robber!"

"Jed… If you get out of this car, we're through," she threatened, turning the key in the ignition. He threw open the door before she could drive away. "I'll take the kids and go home to my mother."

"What? There's something wrong with protecting the city from a hardened criminal? It'll be fine, Pam. I'm doing a public service!" He wasn't worried about her threat — he'd heard it a dozen times and she never carried through. He opened the glovebox and pulled out his trusty old Smith and Wesson six-shooter. It had served him well when he was an MP in 'Nam, and now it would help him take down a real bad guy. "This is my calling, honey… what I was meant to do!"

She scoffed. "I might just believe that if you didn't get kicked out of the Academy."

That was a low blow, but Jed didn't respond. He didn't have time to waste with arguments. Besides, he was about to win that spot at the Academy back. Clutching his gun, he jumped out of the car and hurried after the robber.

"Please, Jed, don't! I read —" she called after him.

Jed ignored her. He didn't even care when she pulled away and drove off — she would be back. He sized up his quarry, who was now several yards ahead of him, almost right in front of the station. "Hey you… stop!" he yelled.

But the guy ignored him and kept on going. Jed ran after him for a minute, then stopped, panting for breath. "I said stop!" he shouted again. A second later, he raised the gun, took aim, and fired.

•◊•◊•◊•◊•◊•◊•◊•◊•◊•

"I said stop!"

At the sound of shouting outside, Chet Kelly dropped his rag and ran out of the station's open garage just in time to hear the gunshot and then see Johnny pitching forward while some idiot a few yards away stood there, a gun still in his hands. "Hey! Bob… Charlie!" he shouted over his shoulder, "Johnny's down! Marco, call Roy!" Chet ran past his pigeon, rushing the shooter without even thinking twice.

The man stared from the gun to Johnny to Chet, then, eyes bugging out, stuffed the weapon in the waistband of his pants and turned. He stopped suddenly and looked around like he was confused. Finally, he took off running, but he wasn't fast enough to get away from an enraged Chester B. Kelly. Chet jumped him from behind, wrapping one arm around his neck and reaching with the other to pull out the gun and toss it away. He was tempted to snap the guy's neck. Instead, he yanked him around and floored him with a hard right hook. He was ready to do more, but Marco and Mike grabbed him and pulled him back.

"He's not worth jail time," Mike said, a hand on Chet's shoulder.

"You did good, amigo," Marco said. "I'll make sure he doesn't go anywhere. Go check on Johnny."

"I'll get Cap." Mike ran for the station while Marco took up position over the shooter, arms crossed, glaring at him, just daring him to try getting up.

Chet nodded and backed away, then turned and jogged over to Johnny. Bob and Charlie were standing back, talking quietly. "What's wrong with you guys? Why aren't you helping him?!" Then Chet looked down. The paramedics had cut off Johnny's jacket, revealing a bomb vest underneath. Attached just above Johnny's left hip was a timer, and it was ticking down with a little over two minutes left. No time to get a bomb squad out to the station to disarm it. "Can't you just cut it off?"

Bob shook his head. "That's what I hoped, but the way it's wired, if we cut it, we could trigger it."

His head turned to one side, Johnny stared at Chet, face ashen, eyes glassy. He gestured weakly, pointing towards the station. Chet knew what he was saying — Get outta here, Kelly. Instead, he knelt beside his friend and took his hand. "Forget it, pal. I'm not goin' anywhere."

Johnny tried to push him away, but Chet wouldn't budge. "What, after all these years, you think I'm gonna start listenin' to ya now?" He leaned close to inspect the vest wiring.

Cap came running out of the station with Mike and stopped short when Bob held up a hand. "Bomb vest, Cap... not much time left!"

"You're really in for it now, pal," Chet joked. "Cap's gonna give you latrine duty for sure." Humor had always been his defense mechanism against… well… anything dark. He couldn't help it. He looked up, stubbornly defying Cap to order him away from his friend's side.

Cap pushed past Bob and knelt beside Johnny and Chet. "What have we got here, pal?"

"Best I can tell, the vest is wired all the way around, but it's hard to know for sure." Chet glanced at the paramedics. "I'm guessing we can't risk moving him to find out?"

"It could make his injury worse," Charlie answered. "But then again, if he has to choose between that and dying…"

"We're not ready to go there yet, Charlie," Cap said, then turned back to Chet. "Why didn't the bullet set it off?"

"Must not be dynamite. C4 could take a shot without blowin', so could TNT. It'd have to hit the detonator to set it off, and that's usually awful narrow." Chet frowned. "Look, Cap, I did some trainin' with EOD* in 'Nam before I switched over to heavy equipment. There's still some time. Maybe I can figure it out." The timer was at ninety seconds now. Chet tried to summon to his memory everything he had learned about explosives, but it was so long ago, and he had never completed the training. To be completely honest, he had switched to heavy equipment because he stunk at explosives. Finally, he shook his head and sat back heavily. "It's no use." He glanced at the timer.

50… 49… 48...

"Kelly," Cap said quietly. "Time to move away. I'm sorry, pal."

Chet shook his head. "You go, Cap." He pointed his chin toward the shooter, who was still under Marco's guard. "Deal with that clown. I'm not lettin' my pigeon die alone. Besides, I… I deserve this..."

"What?!" The question burst out of Cap, frustrated and incredulous, and he didn't move any more than Chet did.

31… 30… 29...

Chet squeezed Johnny's hand hard, and then suddenly the confession spilled out of him. "A guy came to the station looking for you, Gage… the day after you went campin'. I was pullin' overtime. He said he was an old friend, and… and I told him where you liked to camp. This is all my fault, Johnny. I'm sorry. I'm so sorry."

10… 9… 8…

Suddenly, tears were streaming down Chet's cheeks. He couldn't believe he was blubbering like a baby. I'm not ready to go, God, but I can't just walk away from him. With his free hand, he traced the sign of the cross over his chest. Then he felt Johnny squeeze his hand back, his grip surprisingly strong. Chet looked down to see his friend staring sadly up at him.

Johnny raised a hand and beckoned him closer. Then he managed a strangled whisper. "Knock't… off… Chet… Not… y'r fault." He paused, struggling for breath, then went on, his words slurring as his eyes sank shut. "Phantom… ain't... that... smart. Now g… go… find... M… Megan."

Chet glanced at the timer again and burst out into relieved laughter. It blinked 00:00. The timer had run out! The bomb was a dud! "Told you I wasn't goin' anywhere, Gage… and neither are you. Except to Rampart. Bob, Charlie… get in here and take care of him!"

While the two paramedics took over with Johnny, Chet sat back and sucked in a deep breath. His entire body was trembling and his eyes felt moist and he wasn't at all certain he could stand if he tried. A moment later, he felt a hand on his shoulder. He looked around to see Cap settled next to him, a trifle pale himself. Chet raised his hands as if in surrender. "I know, Cap, I know… latrine duty for life."

"No, you twit." Cap shook his head. "Listen, Chet. I just wanted to say… you're a good friend. Johnny knows that. Now, you're off-duty for the rest of this shift. Go over to Rampart when they get Johnny packaged up. Keep an eye on your pigeon."

•◊•◊•◊•◊•◊•◊•◊•◊•◊•

*EOD - Explosive Ordnance Disposal