PAY BACK!

by Carla K

Mysterious letters and an arsonist spell trouble for the Men of Station 51.

PAY BACK

This story is written for entertainment purposes only, not profit, and is not meant to infringe on any existing copyrights.

* * * *

The man peered through the thick black smoke and pulled the collar of his turnout coat up. It's almost like they're doing a dance . . . he thought as he watched the wall of fire devour a table stacked with old linens. He looked around and shuddered, not with fear, but with pleasure. Most men would be afraid; but the tongues of rapidly moving flames had a tranquilizing effect on the shadowy figure hunched down near the doorway.

The sound of wailing sirens interrupted his thoughts. He straightened, indignant that he wouldn't be able to finish watching what he had started. I can't let them find me . . . he thought, taking a last longing look at his handiwork. Discovery meant that all of the plans he had made would be ruined. And he wasn't about to let that happen. Not until he had settled the score with the one who had spoken against him . . .

* * * *

Captain Hank Stanley grimaced as he surveyed the scene before him. The sign on the building, painted in neon purple, screamed out at him. The Flea

Market . . . he read. The run-down two story house had at one time been someone's home before it had been converted into a bargain-priced thrift shop. He shook his head. God only knows how much combustible material they've got stored in there . . .

"LA, Engine 51 on the scene," Stanley said into his handi-talkie. "Respond a second unit to this location." There was no way they would be able to save this one; the most that could be hoped for is that the fire could be controlled before it spread to the other buildings nearby. He turned to the two men standing next to him, both of whom were dressed in full firefighting gear, and gave them a sober look. "This place looks like it's gonna come down any second. You've got ten minutes - no more."

"We hear ya, Cap," Paramedic John Gage said. He took a deep breath, watching as his partner lowered the protective mask over his face. "Ready?"

Roy DeSoto nodded. "Yeah, let's go."

Stanley watched anxiously as his men moved forward.

The porch floor, weakened by age, groaned under the weight of the paramedics as they stepped into the burning structure.

Gage and DeSoto had only searched a couple of rooms before realizing that the Flea Market lived up to its name. Every room they entered was crammed with tables and shelves piled high with old records, glassware, linens and other assorted objects. Several minutes later, they entered a room towards the back that was partitioned by a heavy curtain. They could see that the walls of the alcove just beyond the curtain were lined with shelves of old books.

"This place is unbelievable," Johnny muttered.

"Yeah," Roy agreed, nodding his head. He glanced up at the tendrils of smoke drifting towards them from the floor above. We'd better finish and get out of here," he said, pointing at the ceiling.

Gage looked up and nodded. "I'll finish up in here - you take a look in that back room."

From his hiding place, the unseen man saw one of the firefighters nod his head before the two separated. Now's my chance . . . he thought.

At the same time, Johnny was doing his best to quickly search the room. It was early enough in the day that the place hadn't been open for business very long, but they had to be sure no one was inside. His progress was slow. The tables were bad enough but he also had to push his way through the piles of boxes and miscellaneous pieces of furniture that the dealers had crammed into the room.

The smoke was getting thicker. Johnny squinted and thought he saw someone running towards him.

"Roy?"

The figure continued, almost blindly, kicking aside anything that was blocking his path.

Alarmed, Johnny reached out and grabbed the sleeve of the man's coat. "Roy, what's the matter?" Stunned, he pushed his own face mask up as he tried to make sense of what he was seeing. The face that stared back at him was that of a stranger.

The man gave the young paramedic an angry shove, sending him stumbling backwards into a pile of boxes and furniture that was stacked up in front of one of the precariously balanced tables. Debris began raining down on Johnny, knocking his helmet and face mask off. He covered his face with his gloved hands as he tried to protect himself from whatever was pelting against him. Then the table legs gave way and Gage felt a sharp pain in the back of his head as the table pushed down on him. The room began spinning dizzily in and out of focus then came the blackness.

At that moment, Roy DeSoto emerged from the other room. He caught only a brief glimpse of the back of a turnout coat hastily fleeing the room. That can't be Johnny, he thought in confusion. He wouldn't just bail out like that . . . Then Roy glanced down and saw the body buried under the partially collapsed table.

"Johnny?" He dropped to his knees and, using his hands, began frantically shoveling debris off of his partner. By the time Roy had pushed aside the last bit of debris, Johnny was beginning to regain consciousness. DeSoto winced. The bed of broken glass around his partner's head was tinged with red. Blood, Roy thought grimly. He was pretty certain that some of that glass had made its way into the laceration he saw on the back of Gage's head.

"Johnny, you okay?" Roy asked anxiously. He pointed upwards at the sagging boards above them. "We need to get out of here fast - -"

Gage nodded, reaching out a hand to his partner. DeSoto hauled him to his feet and

scooped up his partner's helmet and mask from the floor and the two began moving towards the exit. Johnny stopped suddenly, swaying unsteadily for a moment; Roy grabbed him firmly by the back of the coat and the two pushed forward again.

Outside, the other firefighters struggled to bring the fire in the aged building under control. Hank Stanley watched in concern as one of his men dragged a reel line towards the side of the property. Suddenly a firefighter emerged from the house at a dead run.

Cap frowned. That's not one of my men . . . he thought. Yet there was something familiar about the man, something that he couldn't quite put his finger on.

Just then, Cap saw Gage and DeSoto come stumbling out of the house, pushing any further thoughts about the unidentified firefighter from his mind.

Roy heard a sickening crack then a roaring in his ears. He realized that they had made it out just in time; the second floor had collapsed.

"Sit down over here," Roy hissed, his voice distorted by the air mask.

Gage slumped down against the back of Engine 51 while DeSoto busily shed his cumbersome gear.

Stanley ran towards them. "Are you guys all right? What happened in there?"

"I don't know, Cap," Roy said as he handed Gage's gear to the concerned captain.

"What about that other guy, Roy?" his dazed partner murmured, trying to get to his feet.

"Cap, can you move that drug box closer?" DeSoto asked. Placing both hands on the injured firefighter's shoulders, Roy eased him back down into a sitting position. "We'll worry about the other guy later, Johnny. Right now I need for you to hold still."

Stanley gave the two a strange look, remembering the man who had fled from the house and disappeared into the background. "Other guy? Who else was in there?"

Roy reached in the drug box for a moment, removing first a stethoscope and then

a blood pressure cuff. "I don't know who it was," Roy said as he examined the gash on Gage's head. "There was someone else in there though, dressed in full gear: tank, air mask, the works."

"It was freaky, Cap." Gage continued. "I reached out and grabbed the guy, thinkin' it was Roy. The next thing I know I'm on the ground." Johnny's face twisted into a grimace.

"Oww!" He reached up and tried to push DeSoto's hand away.

"I'm sorry but it would help if you would hold still."

"None of this makes any sense," Stanley muttered, thinking aloud.

"I know it doesn't, Cap," Roy agreed. "Dressed like that, I thought it was Johnny at first."

"Okay, I'll have Kelly and Lopez take a look around, see if we can't find this character."

Stanley watched quietly as DeSoto focused his attention on Gage's condition.

"BP's 126/84 . . ." Roy murmured, removing the blood pressure cuff from his partner's arm. "How does your head feel, Johnny?"

"I'm okay . . . just a little dizzy . . ."

"I know you're okay, but I just want to have a look at you anyway."

"How is he?" Stanley asked.

Roy removed the stethoscope from his neck. "His vitals are good. I'm not sure but I think that cut on the back of his head is gonna need some stitches. I cleaned it up, but he was laying in a lot of broken glass. It's hard to tell out here if I got it all out." He sat back and studied his partner.

Johnny, knowing what was going through the other man's mind, gave him an annoyed

look. "I'm okay, Roy. I don't need to go to the hospital."

Stanley shook his head. "Why don't we let Roy decide that, pal."

DeSoto gave his friend a sympathetic look. Johnny was a great paramedic and a good friend but he made a lousy patient. "He was unconscious when I found him, Cap. I think they should check him out at Rampart."

"Okay - go ahead and ride in with him, Roy. I'll have Chet bring the squad in."

Johnny tried to protest. "But, Cap . . ."

Stanley gave Gage the sternest look he could muster. "That wasn't a request, pal."

Several minutes later, Roy glanced at his watch as the ambulance door slammed shut behind him. 11:00 . . . he thought tiredly. The day isn't even half over yet and we're already on our third run to the hospital . . . He looked at Johnny who lay quietly on the stretcher, deep in thought.

"You know somethin', Roy?" He winced as he propped himself up on his elbows.

"No," DeSoto replied, leaning forward and gently pushing Johnny back against the stretcher, "but I have a feeling you're going to tell me."

"That guy we saw; I don't think he belonged to any of the companies that responded." He gave Roy a curious look. "You didn't happen to get a good look at him, did you?"

"No," Roy replied, shaking his head. "I only saw him for a second, from the back. Like I told Cap, at first I thought it was you."

Roy shrugged. "Could've been someone new that we haven't met yet. Maybe if you stop thinking about it, it'll come to you. That usually works for me."

"Maybe . . ."

The ride to Rampart Hospital took about fifteen minutes. Roy was relieved to see that Doctor Kelly Brackett and Dixie McCall, the head nurse, were ready for them. The gurney disappeared into one of the treatment rooms. Roy had just settled down in the waiting area when the smell of freshly brewed coffee drifted towards him. The tantalizing aroma reminded him that he and Johnny had been called out before either one had eaten breakfast that morning. Roy had just decided to head over to the nurse's station and get a cup, when he heard someone call his name.

"Roy?"

DeSoto looked up and saw Officer Vince Howard walking towards him. "Hey, Vince," he said, shaking the burly man's hand, "what brings you here?"

"I was talking to Hank Stanley earlier and he told me that you and Johnny ran into some trouble this morning. How's your partner doing?"

"I don't know yet," Roy replied. "They just started working on him."

"Did either one of you get a good look at this guy?"

"I didn't, but I think Johnny did." He gave the man a curious look. "C'mon, Vince, you didn't come out of your way just to check up on Johnny. What's going on?"

"There was a break-in last night over at Station 110. Someone cleaned out the squad over there."

"What did they get?" DeSoto's mind began calculating the amount of drugs and other medical equipment that each paramedic team carried in the squad.

'That's the strange part, Roy. Whoever did it never touched the drug box or any of the other equipment you people carry." Howard shook his head. "Someone went to a lot of trouble to break into a County fire station just so they could steal some coats, air tanks and masks."

DeSoto looked at him in surprise.

The officer continued. "When Hank told me what happened this morning, I figured it wouldn't hurt to talk to you and Gage. I think we all have more than enough to do without worrying about some civilian trying to play fireman."

"Yeah, we do."

The radio at his side beeped. Vince listened for a moment. "Listen, I need to go, but I'll catch up with you two later. I want to talk to the both of you sometime today." He jerked his head towards the treatment room door and smiled. "Tell that partner of yours to stay out of trouble."

"See ya, Vince." Roy watched the man leave, then shook his head. Trouble. With the way the day had gone so far, he expected trouble to be Squad 51's constant companion.

* * * *

The market, located in the center of Los Angeles' busy downtown area, hummed with activity. The quiet of the morning had given way to a steady flow of customers as the noon hour drew near.

Outside, the young woman brushed a loose strand of blond hair away from her face as she stared at the display of merchandise set up in the storefront window. She took a deep breath, then straightened her shoulders. I told him I'd be back and that's exactly what's going to happen . . . she thought defiantly. Her resolve strengthened, she pushed open the heavy door and marched into the store.

The stocky man behind the counter smiled as he held out his customer's change. "Have a nice day, Mrs. Jenkins."

Overhead, the ceiling fans whirred as they strained to fight off the midday heat. The man watched his elderly customer leave before mopping his head with a handkerchief. As he patted his face, the owner of the store noticed the young woman out of the corner of his eye.

"Oh, no!" He moaned, rolling his eyes heavenward. He threw the handkerchief down in disgust. "Not you again!"

"Big surprise, huh? I told you I'd be back!"

"Look," the man began, moving away from the cash register and walking out from behind the counter, "you don't like my store, then go somewhere else! I told you yesterday never to come back in here again. Now beat it, " His arms flailed angrily, "before I call the cops and have you thrown out - -"

The petite woman smiled. "Go ahead and call the cops," she taunted. "It's not against the law to walk into a store." The smile faded as the woman began marching towards the soda machine located in the back of the store.

"Hey, you just hold on a minute!" the man stammered. The other customers smiled in amusement as the hapless owner took off after the young woman. Darting quickly down one of the aisles, he got to the back of the store first and placed himself between the soda machine and the woman. "You just turn right around and march yourself out of here. You're not putting any money in this machine. Not today or any other day --"

The woman put both hands on her hips and glared. "Oh, yeah? Just watch me." She angrily shoved the man out of the way.

Her strength and speed was surprising. The woman fished some change out of her pocket and tossed it into the coin slot before the man could react. Then she slapped the palm of her hand against one of the selection buttons.

Both of them stared at the machine in expectation. Nothing happened.

The woman turned on the store owner. "So all my complaining and you still haven't had this thing fixed, huh?"

"There's nothing to fix! My customers use this machine all day - you're the only one who has a problem with it!" A bright red color flooded into the man's cheeks. "I want you out of here, now!"

She shook her head. "Not until I get my money back - not just what I put in today but all of the money this crooked machine has cheated me out of!"

"I told you before, I can't do that," the store owner stammered. "I don't even have a key to this thing!"

"Fine - - then I'll take care of it myself!" She bent down and shoved her hand up into the opening at the bottom of the machine . . .

* * * *

Roy DeSoto drained the last of the coffee from the Styrofoam cup then crumpled it in his hand. The emergency room was getting busier. Someone took his seat in the waiting area in the few seconds of time it took for Roy to walk across to the nurse's station and toss the crumpled cup into the trash can. Tired of waiting, he decided to poke his head into the treatment room and find out what was going on. Just as he reached up to push open the door, he saw it swing towards him. Roy took a step back.

Dr. Kelly Brackett folded the stethoscope and slipped it into his coat pocket. He noticed the worried paramedic hovering near the door and smiled. "Good to see you, Roy. Haven't I told you two before that the emergency room is only for sick people?"

"Yeah . . . you have." Relieved, he let out a breath. "Johnny's okay then?"

"All the tests indicate that he's fine. You were right about that laceration needing some stitches but, other than that, there's no evidence of concussion or any other trauma." He held the door ajar. "You can go on in. Johnny can leave whenever you two are ready to go."

"Thanks, Doc."

"No problem, Roy. I have a feeling this won't be the last time today that I see you guys in here." He turned left and disappeared into the crowded hallway.

Several minutes later, as the two paramedics walked back towards the squad, DeSoto told Gage about the information Vince Howard had given him.

Johnny pulled open the door of the squad and got in. He looked over at his partner in disbelief. "Sounds kinda crazy, doesn't it, to do something like that?"

Roy nodded. "Crazy, or something else. We get paid for what we do. Makes me wonder what's in it for someone like that."

"Yeah. I'm hoping we don't have to find out."

The squad slowly pulled out of Rampart's parking lot.

Johnny reached down and picked up the radio mike. "Squad 51 available." He put the mike down and slumped back in the seat. "Man, I'm starving, Roy."

"That's not surprising. It's almost one o'clock and neither one of us had anything to eat this morning. "

"You think they're still waiting back at the station for us to make lunch?"

Roy shook his head. "I called while you were with Brackett. Cap said he'd cover for us."

Johnny thought for a moment. "How about we stop at that market on Hollywood Blvd and grab something to eat there?"

"Okay," Roy agreed. "While we're there, we can pick up whatever we need for tonight. Got any ideas?"

"The way our luck's running today, we'd better come up with something that tastes good reheated."

"Yeah . . ."

When they got to the market, they saw a police cruiser parked out front. A small crowd of people hovered around the front door.

"Well, there goes our chances of getting lunch." Johnny looked at the activity and shook his head.

"Like you said, luck hasn't been with us today." He opened the driver's side door and nodded towards the store. "Wonder what all the excitement is about?"

Just as the two paramedics got out of the squad, they saw Vince Howard coming towards them, pushing his way through the crowd of people.

"You two are the just the guys I want to see," he said, smiling broadly at them.

"What's the problem, Vince?" Roy asked.

"A lady's got her hand caught in - well, I think it would be easier if you'd just come take a look for yourselves"

Johnny and Roy exchanged a puzzled look then Johnny began unloading the drug box and biophone from the squad.

"You're gonna need a tool box," Vince added. Johnny nodded wordlessly as he grabbed a bright red tool box from inside one of the compartments.

Roy reached in through the window and picked up the mike. "LA, Squad 51. We have a still alarm at 1121 Hollywood Boulevard. A woman is trapped - stand by, LA." He looked at Vince. "We need an ambulance?"

"I don't think so. It doesn't look like she's seriously injured."

"LA, Squad 51. We do not need an ambulance at this time."

"10-4, 51." The radio answered back. "Time out - 13:30."

The paramedics grabbed their equipment and followed the officer back into the store.

As they moved down the crowded aisles, Gage studied the faces around him. They didn't seem frightened; if anything it looked to him like they were enjoying whatever was going on.

"All right, people, let's step back - give the paramedics some room to work," Vince said to the amused spectators.

The woman in front of the soda machine looked at the two firemen and rolled her eyes. She turned and glared at the store owner. "Oh, man! It wasn't enough that you called the cops, but you had to call them too?"

"Vince, what the heck is goin'on around here?" Johnny muttered.

"Well, from what the witnesses tell me, this lady came in here and started yelling at this gentleman", he began, motioning to the fidgety man next to him, "about his machine. He told her to leave and . . . well, I think you can figure out the rest."

Johnny nodded. "She wanted her money back."

"Yep. The owner refused so she decided to get it back herself."

"Great . . ." he muttered under his breath. He eyed the other man warily. "Sir, do you have a key somewhere for this machine?"

"No - no key," he blustered, "Some outfit in San Francisco owns that machine, they're not gonna leave a key with me!"

"Look," Johnny continued, "there has to be someone locally who services the machine for you. Maybe they have a key."

"Why are you standing around badgering me," the owner exploded at the paramedic. "Do something - I want her out of here!"

"All right, all right," Johnny replied, "just settle down!"

Meanwhile, Roy set the biophone down and approached the annoyed woman. "Looks like you could use some help, ma'am."

"The only help I need is for someone to do something about him," she said, stabbing her free hand at the shopkeeper, "and his crooked machine!"

"Yes, ma'am," Roy replied softly, bending to peer up into the opening at the trapped hand.

"I've had just about enough of your . . ." The owner began, taking a threatening step forward.

"I think you two have been carrying on long enough," Vince said firmly, grabbing him by the arm. "If you'll just come over here with me, sir, I need to get some information from you."

"Anything you say, officer," the man said, trying to shake himself loose, "as long as you get her out of here!"

"The paramedics will have her free a lot faster if you leave them alone and let them do their work."

While Howard tried to pacify the irate man, DeSoto looked at the machine carefully, while Gage tried to determine the extent of the victim's injuries.

"Can you move your hand at all, ma'am?" Johnny asked. "How about your fingers?"

The woman shook her head. "No. It hurts when I try and move it." The woman's eyes kept careful track of the store owner. "This is all his fault," she growled. I told him all along this machine was faulty . . ."

"Ma'am," Johnny soothed, "you're just gonna have to try and relax. My partner and I will have your hand free in just a few minutes. Okay?"

The woman nodded. "Okay . . ."

He glanced up at his partner. "How does it look, Roy?"

"I don't know," he replied, shaking his head. "Her hand's wedged in there pretty tight."

"Be a heck of a lot easier if we had the key," Johnny commented. "Wanna try the pry bar?"

DeSoto made a wary face. "Let's try it the easy way first. Hand me that tube of petroleum jelly, will ya, Johnny?"

The paramedics worked silent for a few minutes.

"Okay, let's give it a try. Can you move your hand at all now, ma'am?"

The woman jerked her arm back. "No, it's still stuck." She glared at the owner. "I'm gonna sue you!"

"C'mon, ma'am, that's not gonna help," Johnny said.

"We'll have to use the pry bar," Roy said, looking at the owner. "Sorry . . ."

"Pry bar?" The owner sputtered in a panic. "You can't break that machine - - who's gonna pay for it? Her?"

Vince straightened; his patience was wearing thin with the irate man. "Roy, can you two handle this? My friend here and I are going to be waiting out front."

"Yeah, Johnny and I can handle it. Waiting outside sounds like a good idea, Vince."

With the owner out of the way, Gage and DeSoto were able to break the lock on the machine quickly. With the front panel half open, Roy peered into the innards of the machine.

"I see the problem - her watch band is hung up on a piece of metal," Roy said. He looked up at the victim. "We're gonna have to cut it to get you free."

After cutting the leather band, it took Gage and DeSoto just a couple of minutes to ease the woman's arm out of the machine.

"Can you do this for me?" Johnny asked, opening and closing his hand several times. He watched for a few minutes, then gave a satisfied nod. "I think you're okay."

Roy tossed the pry bar back in the tool box. "Here's your watch," he said, handing the broken timepiece to her. "Keep an eye on that hand. If it swells up at all, be sure to see your family doctor."

She sniffed in disgust. "My watch is broken and I'm still out all of my money. Thanks a lot!"

Johnny and Roy looked at each other in disbelief as the two paramedics watched the

woman stalk out of the store.

"Real nice lady . . ." Johnny mumbled as he slammed the lid of the tool box closed.

Roy agreed. "Let's get out of here. I've suddenly lost any interest in lunch."

"Yeah, I know what you mean, Roy."

The rest of the afternoon passed quickly. After the day's hectic start, the paramedics were grateful when the end of their shift came and for the opportunity for a couple of days off.

* * * *

The next shift promised to be more of the same when the blaring sound of the SCU tones reverberated through the station not long after they arrived.

"Squad 51. Apparent Overdose. 6003 Almeda. 6-0-0-3 Almeda. Cross Street Melrose. Time out - 9:15."

"Here we go again, Roy . . ." Johnny groaned.

Two hours later, the squad came to a stop in front of the station, waiting for a break in the morning traffic so it could return to quarters.

"Isn't that Vince's cruiser parked out front?" Johnny asked.

"Hmm?" DeSoto said absently, "I think it is." He backed the squad into the station and turned the key, then looked glumly at his partner. "I need some coffee."

"I don't think coffee's gonna take care of the way I feel right now." Gage muttered.

Despite their efforts, the 10 year old overdose victim the paramedics had been treating died before the ambulance had arrived at the hospital.

"Yeah . . ." Roy said in a strained voice. "You know when we first saw her lying on the bed, I thought to myself, that could be my daughter." He tapped his hand against the steering wheel thoughtfully. "You heard what Brackett said," Roy continued, trying to convince himself just as much as his partner, "there wasn't anything we could have done to save her."

"She would have made it, Roy, if only someone had called us a half hour earlier."

Just then Chet Kelly came around the corner, his brow furrowed with worry. "'Bout time you guys got back. Cap's havin' a fit."

"It's been a rough morning, Chet," Roy said, "so why don't you just come out and tell us what's going on."

"Don't get on my case, Roy," Kelly answered. "While you and Gage were out, things went crazy here."

"Isn't that Vince's cruiser parked out front?" Johnny asked.

"Yeah. He and Cap are in the office talking. Come in here, we'll show you why."

They rounded the corner into the kitchen. Mike Stoker and Marco Lopez were finishing the last of the breakfast dishes.

"We saved some breakfast for you guys." Marco said, holding out a coffee cup to Roy.

"Thanks," Roy mumbled. He set the cup on the table and picked up the coffee pot. "So what's the big mystery - who called Vince?"

"Cap did," Chet answered, tossing a manila envelope towards the two paramedics. "Go ahead, open it up and read what's inside. Then you'll know as much as the rest of us do."

Johnny picked up the plain, unmarked envelope and opened it up. He reached in and pulled out a folded piece of 8 1/2" x 11". He felt something slide out of the paper and peered in. "There's pictures in here," he said, turning the envelope upside down. "Hey, Roy, look at this . . ."

"Those are pictures of us at that fire a couple of days ago," Roy commented, glancing at the Polaroid snapshots that had fallen out onto the table.

While Roy looked at the pictures, Johnny unfolded the piece of paper. The letters pasted on the paper had been cut out of various magazines and newspapers, making the message difficult to read.

Gage frowned. "Cap," he began reading, "you might have fooled everyone else, but I know the truth about what happened . . ." Gage paused and looked up. "Is this supposed to be someone's idea of a joke?"

"Cap didn't think it was a joke," Chet answered. "All the times I've seen him under pressure and I've never seen a look on his face like the one he had after reading that."

The crew heard a door creak, then the sound of voices filtered towards them.

"I think I have everything that I need for right now, Hank," Vince Howard was saying. "If you'll get that information for me from the Chief . . ."

The tones blared suddenly and the dispatcher's voice began speaking. "Station 51. Vehicle fire. 3825 Commerce. 3-8-2-5 Commerce. Cross Street Franklin. Time out - 11:45."

"Our timing is really bad today . . ." Roy muttered to his partner as he tossed the pictures on the table.

Cap was at the radio before the dispatcher finished speaking. "Station 51, 10-4. KMG-365." He turned to the man next to him. "Sorry, Vince . . ."

"No problem, Hank. I think I'll just go along."

The midday traffic was heavy. The two paramedics rode in silence for a few minutes.

"You know, Roy, whatever's in that letter must be pretty serious if Vince feels like he needs to follow us on a run."

"Yeah, I was just thinking the same thing . . ."

As the engine company came to a screaming halt, the scene of the fire reminded Roy DeSoto of a circus. A large blast of the engine's air horn cut through the air. It seemed to Roy like a hopeless attempt to get the growing number of spectators watching from the curb, to move out of the way of the rescue equipment.

The parking lot of the boarded up gas station was empty except for the burning vehicle. A portly man in a business suit, his face blackened by smoke, was yelling at a small group of teenagers. There was a cut over his right eye that was bleeding profusely. Every few seconds he wiped his face in annoyance when the blood ran into his eye.

The older youths seemed amused by the man's reaction to the burning vehicle. Two police officers were standing between the man and the teens, trying to restore some sense of order.

DeSoto glanced in the squad's rear view mirror and saw Vince Howard get out of his cruiser and approach the group.

Cap jumped down from the engine then began speaking into the handi-talkie. "LA, Engine 51 on scene. Vehicle is fully involved. Station 51 out one hour." He looked at Chet. "Kelly, get an inch and a half line on that, pal."

Johnny removed the drug box and biophone from the squad and set it on the ground. He looked at Roy and nodded towards the teens. "That looks like it's turning into a really bad scene."

The looks of amusement on the youths' faces had changed into something ugly. A couple of the older ones were shouting threats at the officers. Vince Howard turned for a second and saw the paramedics coming. He drew the man in the suit away from the group.

"Mr. Henderson, the paramedics are here. I want you to let them have a look at you while my partner and I take care of this other matter."

"No," the man moaned, "I can't leave! What about the car? I need to do something . . ."

"Sir," Roy began, "the other firemen are taking care of your car - -"

The man shook his head furiously. "You don't understand! That car's not mine - - It's a loaner . . . a loaner from the dealer! My car's in the shop - how am I going to explain this?"

Roy felt sorry for the man. There wasn't going to be much of the car left to return to the dealership. "Sir, there's nothing you can do right now, not in the condition you're in."

Gage and DeSoto persisted and finally the man allowed himself to be led away to a quieter area.

"Sit down over here," Johnny said. "What's your name?"

"Frank Henderson." He sank down into the grass. "I-I thought I was safe, stopping here. I don't know what I would have done if that police officer hadn't driven by when he did."

"Why'd you stop here anyway?" Roy asked looking around at the run-down property.

"I was having engine trouble. I didn't think it was safe to stop at the side of the road, so I pulled in here." He paused and took a deep breath. "Those kids, they were using this place as a hangout. They set fire to some of the trash that was lying around here, then threw it in my car."

"Sounds like you'd better let the police take care of things," Roy said as he watched the officers lead two of the teens over to one of the cruisers.

"I tried to stop them." He lightly put his hand to the cut on his head and winced. "This is what I got for trying."

"Do you hurt any place else, besides your head?" Gage loosened the man's tie. "I'm just gonna take this jacket off, so we can get a blood pressure on you."

"No . . ." He paused to wipe some blood away. "I've always been healthy . . . never sick a day in my life . . ."

"Okay, you just sit back and try to take it easy," Johnny said. "We're gonna take good care of you."

With the exception of the cut on the man's head, his condition was good. Nevertheless, as a precaution, the hospital advised the paramedics to transport the patient as soon as possible.

Engine 51 soon had the fire put out. The police took several of the youths into custody just as the ambulance arrived on the scene.

"I don't need an ambulance!" the man protested, seeing the attendants wheeling the stretcher towards him.

"We're just going to take you to Rampart General and let the doctor have a look at you, just to make sure everything's okay," Roy explained.

Henderson protested loudly the whole time as the attendants tried to make him comfortable. Finally the patient was safely aboard the ambulance.

Johnny turned to his partner. "You want me to ride in with him?"

"Yeah," Roy replied. "He's probably gonna talk the whole way to the hospital too."

Gage climbed into the ambulance. "Hey, Roy, hand me that drug box, will you?"

Just as DeSoto reached for the handle of the large black box, he heard a popping sound followed by a loud thud against the ambulance door. Then he heard the sound again.

"What the hell was that?" Gage said.

"Gunshots . . .Someone's shooting at us," Roy replied.

The firefighters began scrambling for cover. Gage reached out and hauled his partner into the ambulance beside him. There was another burst of sound. The paramedics shielded the patient's body with their own. One of the small side windows shattered, spraying glass all over.

Crouched down behind the street side of the engine, Cap grabbed his handi-talkie as he watched the two white clad attendants hit the pavement. "LA, Engine 51. Firemen are under gunfire. Notify the Sheriff's department that we have a sniper at this location. This is a Code L." He turned to the man next to him. "Kelly, have you seen Gage or DeSoto?"

"No, Cap," Chet answered. "Last I saw they were standing by the ambulance."

It ended as quickly as it started. There were a few moments of uneasy silence before a shaky Cap got to his feet. "All right, Lopez, Kelly, you finish the cleanup. I'm gonna check on the others." He sprinted across the parking area. "Gage, DeSoto - you okay in there?"

A shudder went through his body, the kind of feeling that a person gets when they realize that they're being watched. Stanley glanced around. He caught a fleeting glimpse of someone spying on him from the alley adjacent to the building. No, he thought, it couldn't be . . . The face smiled at him evilly and nodded as if to confirm the Captain's thoughts before he turned and fled into the recesses of the alley. That face . . . he was the man at the other fire . . .

Stanley felt a fear gnaw at his insides that he never in all his years of firefighting had felt before. It was time to face up to the truth. Someone was trying to kill his men - - and it was all his fault . . .

* * * *

Questions. Roy DeSoto wondered if Vince Howard was ever going to run out of questions. He glanced up. Roy could tell by the expression on Gage's face that Johnny was running out of patience too.

"Hey, Vince - -" Roy paused and gingerly massaged his temples. The cut on the side of his face was making his head pound.

"Look, we've already told you everything that we know," Johnny said, casting a worried eye at his partner. Roy had taken the brunt of the spray of shattered glass. "Can we take care of this later? Roy and I have had it with this stuff for right now."

After the shooting, the sheriff's men had combed the area for some trace of the phantom sniper and had come up empty handed. The witnesses in the area were so engrossed in the vehicle fire, no one was paying attention to what went on afterwards.

Roy glanced at the clock on the wall; the paramedics had been sitting in Rampart's waiting room for almost an hour. Business was good that afternoon - too good. Although the hapless victim of the car fire had been taken in for treatment right away, Dixie McCall had apologetically told the men of Squad 51 that they would have to wait.

Vince Howard shook his head. "You guys know the routine - - I have to get this information from you now."

It wasn't until Dixie came to get them that Howard finally left the two weary paramedics alone. Roy's injuries were tended to and shortly thereafter, Johnny was backing the squad into Station 51's bay.

The two sat in the squad for a minute, neither one wanting to move. Roy finally broke the heavy silence.

"You know something, Johnny? I know that what happened today goes along with the job. But for some crazy reason, the being shot at part doesn't bother me nearly as much as not knowing why it happened."

"Yeah, well, it's got to have something to do with that letter that Cap got. I don't mind stickin' my neck out, I'd just like to know why I'm doing it."

Roy opened the door and stopped suddenly. "Hey, do you smell something?"

Gage took a deep breath. "Coffee . . . and Marco's taco casserole?"

"Yeah, that's what I think it is too," Roy replied, his expression brightening. "Our luck must be changing."

Things were busy in the kitchen. Mike Stoker was standing at the counter preparing a salad while Marco Lopez was the stove, stirring a steaming stockpot.

At the table, Chet Kelly looked up from the manual he'd been studying. "Hey, guys, look who finally decided to come back."

Johnny made a face. "Very funny, Chet!" He headed towards the refrigerator. "Is there anything left from lunch? I'm starved."

Kelly watched him route around in the refrigerator for a moment. "Don't get too cozy with the leftovers, Gage. Cap said to tell you that he wanted to see you and Roy in his office, just as soon as you got back."

Roy swallowed a couple of gulps of the coffee he had just poured. "Wonder what he wants to see us about."

"Beats me," Chet said with a shrug of his shoulders. "All I know is that, after we got back, Cap spent an hour on the phone with headquarters. Then Vince stopped by with some other guy that none of us knew. Cap was with them for a long time."

"You don't seem to know much," Gage mumbled, his mouth full of cold fried chicken.

"Well, I do know one thing," Kelly said, nodding at the manila envelope that had been left in the middle of the table, "whatever is going on has something to do with that."

"He's right, Johnny," Roy said. "We'd better take a look at that before we see Cap."

Gage settled down at the table and the two paramedics began studying the mysterious letter.

Cap, the letter began, you might have fooled everyone else, but I know the truth about what happened. Because of your lies I was washed out of the department and, to top it off, you had the . . . Gage frowned as he tried to make out the next word . . . the gall to tell the Chief that everything you said was true. I'll never forget what you did - - never! So watch your back, Cap. Those paramedics of yours got off easy before, next time they might not be so lucky. Or maybe it will be one of the other men, trouble is, you just won't know for sure, will you. Think about it, Cap, think about it . . .

DeSoto looked up at Kelly. "Chet, how did this get here anyway?"

He shrugged. "Right after you guys took off this morning, we heard a noise out in the bay. We went out to investigate and found that envelope taped to the window of the engine. Stoker and I checked around outside but, hey, at that time of the morning, there's lot of people going by here. We didn't see anyone hanging around the station."

A voice boomed out at them. "Kelly! Is that Gage and DeSoto's voices I hear? Didn't you tell them I wanted to see them?"

"Yeah, I told'em, Cap!" He arched his eyebrows at the paramedics. "See? He's been on our backs all afternoon."

"Well, after reading that," the younger paramedic mumbled, tossing the letter on the table, "I can't say that I blame him."

"Yeah," Roy agreed, rising from his seat. "C'mon, Johnny, we'd better get in there . . ."

When they got to Stanley's office, they saw Station 51's captain seated behind his desk, his head resting in his hands.

Roy shot a look at his partner, his bright eyes widening in alarm. "Cap? You okay?"

Stanley nodded slowly, then lifted his head. "I should be asking you guys that question," he said, straightening in his chair. "How'd you make out at the hospital? You were there for a long time."

"We made out fine, Cap, nothing to worry about." Roy answered quietly. There were lines of worry etched into Stanley's face that DeSoto couldn't ever remember seeing before.

"I'm glad to hear that," he replied in a grim voice. "Come in - - I need to talk to you two for a second. John, pull that door closed behind you."

Stanley fidgeted nervously as the two paramedics sat down in the chairs arranged in front of the desk. He looked at them thoughtfully for a moment before speaking. "Did Kelly show you the letter?"

"Yeah," Roy began. "I'm not sure that we understand what it all means though."

Cap got up from behind the desk and paced back and forth for a minute. "I almost had myself convinced that it was someone's idea of a sick joke."

"But you don't think that now?" Roy asked in a quiet voice.

Stanley shook his head. "No, not after what happened today. You and John could have been killed out there."

"Cap," Gage said hesitantly, "it might not be any of our business, but why would anyone hate you enough to try and get back at you by doing something like that?"

"I owe you guys some kind of explanation." He sat down on the edge of the desk. "Three years ago, not long before I was assigned here, we were called out on a structure fire at an abandoned factory. It was a bad one - the place was collapsing like a deck of cards. Cap had one of our men, Eric Carpenter and one of the men from 8s, Bill Evans, take a hose in through the front."

"What happened?" Roy asked.

"All hell broke loose, Roy," Cap replied. "The ceiling collapsed and we lost contact with the men. Finally, Carpenter came staggering out. Said that he'd lost the handi-talkie and gotten separated from Evans. I went back in with one of the other men to see if we could find him."

"Did you?"

Cap nodded slowly. "He was pinned under one of the beams. I stayed with him while the other guy went back for the port-a-power. Evans was hurt bad and he knew he wasn't going to make it. He said he had something to tell me." Cap paused and ran his hands through his hair. "Evans told me that when the ceiling collapsed, Carpenter had just stood there and watched, like he was in some kind of trance. He kept shouting at Carpenter to get out and go for help but Carpenter was lost in his own world. Evans said that Carpenter finally snapped out of it, mumbled something about not interfering with what was going on, and ran out of the building."

"Did he set the fire, Cap?"

"I don't know, John. We never could tie him to the cause of the blaze. There was an investigation afterwards and I was called to testify. It was a bad scene all around; Carpenter blamed me for it all. He had a new medical evaluation and they found out that Carpenter had some serious problems. He's a smart guy though; he kept it hidden for a long time. The Chief tried to help him by reassigning him to a desk job, but his emotional problems were too big. It didn't work out and he was let go."

"Cap," Roy said, "All that happened a long time ago, how can you be sure that guy's the same person who wrote that letter to you?"

"I'm sure, pal. I've already seen him twice, once at that fire at that flea market place, then today, after the shooting. I thought there was something familiar about him the first time, but I didn't think anything of it. But today . . . well, today, he made sure that I got a good look at him." Stanley resumed his pacing. "Even after seeing him, I couldn't - - I didn't want to believe it was true, so I asked Vince to do some checking around for me."

"Did he find out anything?"

Stanley sighed heavily. "More than I wanted to know. Up until two weeks ago, Eric Carpenter was receiving out-patient psychiatric therapy twice a week. Then he just dropped out of sight. His doctor hasn't heard from him and as far as he knows, Carpenter hasn't tried to refill the medication that was prescribed for him." He rubbed his hands together anxiously. "I've been with the department for 15 years. I've been in some tough spots in that time, but I never thought I'd ever be facing anything like this."

"What happens now, Cap? Do we just wait for this guy to try again?"

"That depends. The Chief and the LAPD have gotten together and they think that they've come up with a way to flush this guy out in the open. But whether or not it works is up to you guys."

"Up to us, Cap?" Johnny asked, exchanging an uneasy glance with Roy.

"Being paramedics, your work takes you away from the center of attention. That makes it easier to get at you. The police seem to feel that's the reason why Carpenter is concentrating his efforts on you and Roy."

"And you think he's gonna try again."

"This doctor that Vince and I talked to this afternoon seems certain that he will. That's where you two come in. Beginning next shift, there's going to be a new paramedic trainee showing up here by the name of Mark Scott. Detective Mark Scott."

"An undercover cop?" Roy asked.

Gage turned to his partner. "Don't you get it, Roy? It's just like you see on Adam-12. The cops go undercover and catch the bad guy the next time he tries something!"

Roy rolled his eyes. "You've been watching too much television, Johnny. We're not talking about make believe now, this police business is serious stuff."

"I wasn't crazy about the idea when the Chief first brought it up," Cap continued, "but it's not as wild as it sounds. The real paramedic work will continue to be handled by you guys. All you have to do is make it look convincing enough so that Kelly and the others believe that this Mark Scott is a real trainee."

Gage looked confused. "Wouldn't it be easier just to tell them what you told us, Cap?"

He shook his head. "It's better not to have too many people in on this, John. The next time Carpenter tries something, this undercover cop will be there to grab him."

"Next shift is a couple of days away, Cap. What are you gonna do until then?"

"I've got some paperwork to catch up on that I'll probably work on at home. My wife's gone to visit her sister in Sacramento for a week. I didn't like the idea of her being alone in the house too much."

"You're welcome to crash at my place, Cap," John offered.

"Thanks, pal, I appreciate the offer, but, right now, it's safer for everyone if I just stay away from my friends."

There was a knock at the door.

"Hey, Cap? Telephone call for you!" Kelly's muffled voice said from the other side of the door.

"Be right there." He looked at the two paramedics. "That's probably the Chief. So I can tell him that you guys agree to go along with the plan, right?"

"Yeah, Cap," Roy said, glancing at his partner, "we want to do anything we can to help."

"Good." Stanley looked visibly relieved. "I'm gonna have a meeting in the rec room after we eat to go over some of what I told you two with the other guys and make an announcement about the new trainee."

The rest of the evening was quiet. The news of the trainee was greeted with the usual verbal barbs by Chet Kelly and casually by the rest of the men.

Later, in the darkness of the dormitory, Johnny heard footsteps pacing back and forth in the rec room and sighed.

"What's a matter, Johnny, can't sleep?" Roy's voice whispered.

Gage rolled over and saw his partner's blue eyes studying him with concern. "No," he said, shaking his head. "As I tired as I feel, I was hopin' I'd just drop off. But I just can't stop thinkin' about what Cap said this afternoon."

"Yeah, I'm having the same problem. Sounds like Cap is too." He adjusted the pillow

then settled back down in the bed. "You'd better try and get some sleep. I have a feeling the next couple of days are gonna be rough for all of us."

"Yeah," Johnny said, 'I have that same feeling. Good night, Roy . . ."

* * * *

Two days later, the engine had already been called out when Gage reported to the station for his next shift. He wandered into the kitchen and found DeSoto there, drinking a cup of coffee.

"Good morning, Johnny."

"'Mornin'," Gage mumbled. He glanced around. "Where is everybody?"

"The guys on C shift had a rough night so, since Cap and the others were here, they took an early call that came in. Trash fire behind the hardware store, you know, the big one on the boulevard?"

"Again?" Gage asked as he poured himself a cup of coffee and joined DeSoto at the table. That's the third time this month!"

"Yeah, I know. Cap didn't sound too happy when they pulled out of here." DeSoto frowned. "You're not your usual sunny self either this morning, partner - - Something wrong?"

"Yes . . . no . . . I don't know, Roy."

DeSoto listened patiently. Johnny usually wasn't ever at a loss for words when speaking his mind. Roy knew that something must be really bugging his partner.

"I've been thinking about having this detective ride with us," Gage continued. "I just don't like it, Roy."

"That's a switch - the other day you were pretty excited about it."

Gage leaned forward, becoming more animated. "Well, after thinking about it more, I decided that maybe it wasn't such a good idea. You and I both know that this job is dangerous enough without having someone else along to look after."

DeSoto nodded. "Yeah . . . lately more dangerous than usual. On the other hand, it's not fair to make any judgment calls about the guy until we work with him."

"Maybe you're right," Gage said. "I don't know, I've just had this bad feeling in the pit of my stomach ever since Cap first brought this up."

"I know what you mean - the idea of being a target doesn't appeal much to me either, but we've gotta help Cap out somehow. I've never seen him like this before - jumpy and on edge. You know, I actually feel kinda sorry for the owner of that hardware store, having to deal with Cap this morning."

"Yeah. That's one scene I'm glad to be missing."

Roy looked at his empty cup and frowned. "I guess we'd better get busy, checking out the squad. Dwyer said they went through a lot of supplies last night." He pushed the cup towards the middle of the table. "Oh, by the way, Cap said that he wanted us to give this guy the full trainee treatment."

Gage's face broke into a wide grin. "Does that include washing and waxing the squad?"

"He said hold nothing back . . ."

Meanwhile, in a run down portion of the commercial district, the darkly clad figure in the turnout coat held his breath as he tapped the pry bar against one of the glass panes of the window at the abandoned Spanish style bungalow. The glass shattered and a black gloved hand reached in and turned the door latch. Eric Carpenter glanced around for a minute, then satisfied that no one was watching, he pushed the door open quietly.

He stepped into the room and looked around. The bungalow, and the others nearby like it, were part of a complex once used by the vacant chemical plant that towered over the smaller structures. The man coughed: the air in the building had long ago been corrupted by the vials and containers of waste and other substances that had been left behind. This will be perfect . . . the man thought. A feeling of satisfaction swelled up inside of him. This is where it will end for you, Cap - - and for your men - -

* * * *

Detective Mark Scott had been at the station about a half hour when Engine 51 returned from their run. Roy never would have pegged the man as a police officer: he expected to find someone with the tall man's muscular, tanned build at the beach surfing.

Cap nodded his head grimly as he shook Scott's hand. "Good to have you aboard. Gage and DeSoto will get you set up." Then he disappeared into his office.

Chet Kelly looked at Scott and made a face. "Headquarters must be desperate, sending you out here to work with these two."

Mark smiled. "Think so? I heard that Gage and DeSoto were the best in the program."

"You mean someone else says that besides Gage?" Chet said, glancing at Johnny for a reaction.

"Kelly?" Cap's annoyed voice growled from his office. "Don't you have any work to do?"

"Yeah, Cap - - starting right now!" Chet muttered. "It's gonna be another long shift . . ."

In contrast to their last few shifts, the morning was quiet. Too quiet . . . Roy thought as he watched Johnny explain the contents of the drug box to their new trainee.

Mark acted genuinely interested in what Gage and DeSoto were trying to teach him and the man's easy going personality quickly won over the two paramedics. The only thing that struck Roy as being wrong about the man was the air of confidence he wore: most trainees would not be as sure of themselves on their first day.

The atmosphere around the station was tense. Cap's mood had them all on edge, making Roy wish for the busy pace of days past.

An hour later, Cap emerged again from his office.

"DeSoto! I need to see you a second, pal."

Roy took a deep breath as he glanced at his partner. "I'll be right back . . ." A few minutes later, he came out of Cap's office, shaking is head.

Johnny gave his partner a questioning look. "What's up?"

"He wants us to take a run down to that hardware store and make an unscheduled fire safety inspection."

"Oh, man - we're not gonna get anywhere with that guy today!" Gage muttered. "You know he's gonna be riled up after what happened earlier this morning - does it have to be done now?"

Roy shrugged. "I don't know. I'm just telling you what Cap told me - maybe you'd like to go in and ask him."

"Very funny, Roy," Gage shot back, glaring at his partner.

The three men quickly packed up the contents of the squad and stored it away. Johnny disappeared for a few minutes, then returned with a helmet.

"Here," he said, holding the helmet out to the new man, "you're gonna need this."

Mark Scott silently ran his hand along the helmet for a moment.

"Something wrong?" Roy asked in concern.

"No," Mark replied good-naturedly. "You know I used to pretend to be a fireman when I was a kid. Never thought I'd be doing it as an adult."

Roy and Johnny exchanged an amused look. "Well," Roy said, " most of the time it's just like any other job, pretty routine stuff, but, every now and then, we have our exciting moments."

The owner of the hardware store was less than pleased to see the fire department for the second time that day. Gruff and used to getting his own way, the older man raged at Gage and Scott as they watched DeSoto inspect the rear of the property.

"Look," Johnny began, "we went over all of this with you the last time we were

here - - you've got to keep this alley cleaned up."

"No, you look," the man blustered. "I'm just a small businessman, trying to make a living. You see all these other places?" he continued, gesturing wildly at the towering buildings around them, "they're all trying to put people like me out of business!"

Despite the circumstances, the man's words amused Roy. Just a small businessman . . . he thought. It was common knowledge that the hardware store owner had a large home with a private beach out by the ocean and counted many prominent politicians as his friends.

"Three people - - why send three people out here?" he ranted. "I'll tell you why, it's called harassment!"

"Now, no one's tryin' to harass you," Johnny said, trying to placate the man, "The fire code was written to protect you and your neighbors . . ."

The man sniffed indignantly then interrupted. "Protection . . . you people like to hide behind that word! All you really want is to make sure that an honest man can't make a living wage - -"

"I'm sorry that you feel that way, sir," Roy said, tapping his pen against the clipboard. "We gave you a break the last couple of times but this time I'm gonna have to write a correction order for this problem. We'll be back out in a couple days to check on your progress."

"You're gonna write me up just because there's some trash and a couple of paint cans in the alley behind my store?" DeSoto's words seemed to amuse the man. "Go ahead, do it! I have friends on the City Council and I'm looking forward to telling them all about how the taxpayer's money is being wasted by the Fire Department." The pompous man pulled himself up. "You seem to forget something, young man - I pay your salary!"

"Yes, sir," Roy answered politely as he made notations on the clipboard in his hands.

The man frowned. Unable to provoke a reaction out of Gage or DeSoto, he turned his attention to the newest addition to Squad 51.

"You're new, aren't you? I don't remember seeing you the last time these two were out here."

Mark gave a slight nod of his head. "Yes, I am."

"Well, maybe I should be talking to you then. Your buddies here," he blustered, glaring at Gage and DeSoto, "they don't seem to understand how hard it is for someone like me to get along. All I'm asking for is a chance . . ."

Scott cut the man off, shaking his head. "Looks to me like you've already had more chances than you deserve."

The man fumed silently during the rest of the inspection. Their business was soon completed and the three headed back to the station.

"Hey, man," Gage said with a wide grin on his face, "you handled yourself pretty well back there. Don't you think so, Roy?"

"Yeah," Roy agreed. "That's the first time I can remember that guy ever being at a loss for words."

"Well, I figured he had it coming to him and I knew that I was the only one who could get away with saying it." Mark shot a quick glance at Roy. "I hope you won't count that remark against me, seeing as how as I'm on probation."

A smile played at the corners of Roy's mouth. "I think we can let it go - this one time."

Scott thought for a moment, then continued, more seriously. "Look, guys - - I have no problem with backing you up - - we've gotta trust each other or this isn't gonna work." He glanced down at his regulation blue shirt and shook his head. "I'm not used to attracting this much attention much less wearing a uniform. I'm depending on you guys to keep me from making a complete fool of myself. Just like you're depending on me to catch whoever is trying to use you two to get back at Captain Stanley."

"You know, I never thought of it that way," Roy mused, his eyes focused intently on his driving.

Johnny nodded. "Yeah, it must be a pretty hard for you, having to pretend to be something you're not."

"Well, this isn't the first time. Anyway, I volunteered for this assignment, so I really can't complain."

Before either paramedic could reply, the radio beeped twice.

"Squad 51, what's your status?" The dispatcher's calm voice asked.

Johnny reached for the mike. "Squad 51 available."

"Squad 51, stand by for response . . ." The dispatcher paused, then continued. "Engine 51, Squad 51, Engine 32, Battalion 14, Truck 10. Structure fire. 1105 Belton. 1- 1 - 0 - 5 Belton. Cross Street Gardner. Time out - 10:38."

"Squad 51, 10-4." Johnny replaced the mike then turned and reached for the helmet that hung on the hook behind his seat.

"Sounds serious," Mark commented.

"Yeah, it does," Roy replied. "It looks like you're gonna get a chance to really be a fireman after all . . ."

* * * *

Eric Carpenter ran a shaky hand through his thinning dark hair as he tried to quell the feeling of panic that rose up inside. He held his breath as he watched the tiny flames falter weakly. No . . . this has to work . . . Carpenter thought desperately. The element of surprise was no longer on his side. I was a fool - - a fool to let Hank Stanley get a good look at me . . . But the opportunity to allow the prey to catch a glimpse of the hunter had been too tempting for the disturbed man to pass up.

The flames were stronger now. Carpenter let out a breath and felt relief coursing through him. The mistakes of the past don't matter now . . . he thought as the hungry flames began feasting on their surroundings. His life was over - - it had ended in disgrace years before. The only thing he had left to cling to was his desire to make the man responsible for his ruin pay. And that's exactly what was going to happen . . .

* * * *

By the time Squad 51 jerked to a stop at the Fulton Chemical Corporation, the aged bungalows were totally engulfed in flames. It was a chaotic scene of men and machinery fighting against a fire that seemed intent on devouring everything in its path.

From deep within the recesses of the main plant, the paramedics heard a low rumble that culminated in a loud explosion. The building seemed to belch, sending a large cloud of acrid smoke drifting towards the harried firefighters.

Johnny adjusted the heavy oxygen tank on his back and paused. Flames were now shooting up through a hole in the roof of the building. He looked at DeSoto with anxious eyes. "I don't like this, Roy."

"Me either . . ." The blond paramedic glanced over and saw Hank Stanley giving instructions in a handi-talkie. "Johnny, make sure Mark's okay with his gear. I'm gonna go check in with Cap."

Johnny watched Roy run over to the engine, then turned his attention back to the task at hand. He noticed that Scott didn't seem as confident as he did earlier. "Looks different in real life doesn't it."

"Yeah," Mark replied, wincing as another explosion rocked the plant. "Is it always like this?"

"Most of the time. This fire's a little worse than what we usually run into." Johnny made a last check of his new partner's air tank. "That should do it. Let's see what Cap's got for us."

As they made their way through the maze of hoses and scurrying men, Gage saw Cap furiously shaking his head as Roy was talking to him.

"But Cap," John heard Roy say, "if there's someone trapped inside . . ."

"Look, Roy, I told you, it's too risky. It's an unconfirmed report - Vince is trying to track it down now. We don't even know what kind of chemicals are stored in there - - I'm not sending anyone in there unless I have to."

What's goin' on, Roy?" Gage asked. "Someone trapped inside?"

Roy shrugged. "No one seems to know for sure."

"Wait a minute," Cap said, pointing behind the three men, "here comes Vince. He might have more information."

"John, Roy," Howard acknowledged. There was a flicker of recognition in Vince's eyes as he glanced at the new squad member.

They must know each other . . . Roy thought. He saw Mark's head move slightly, giving the uniform officer a silent greeting.

"Whatcha got, Vince?" Cap asked.

"It's not good, Hank. Plant security phoned in a B & E call about 15 minutes before the fire started. The guard thinks the intruder got in through one of the bungalows."

"And that's where the fire started . . ." Stanley mumbled. "Did the guard get out?"

Howard nodded. "The guard saw the fire and called it in to your people. As far as he knows, whoever broke in is still in there."

"Did you get a hold of anyone yet who knows what's stored in there?"

"No - we've reached a dead end there. The company went belly up about a year ago, the plant's been shut down since then. The only reason the security people are still here is because there's been a problem with vagrants breaking in and using the place for shelter. I'll keep working on it, but I can't promise anything."

Okay, Vince, thanks."

"Sorry it couldn't be better news." Vince looked at the growing crowd of spectators and frowned. "I've got to get back there - I'll check in with you later, Hank."

"What do you think, Cap?"

"I think things are looking worse all the time," Cap replied in a frustrated voice. He thought hard for a moment then turned and gave the paramedics a stern look. "All right, you guys - - make one sweep through and that's it - - in and out, right?"

Gage nodded his head in agreement. "You're not gonna hear any arguments from us, Cap."

"Forget the bungalows," Cap continued tersely. "If there was anyone in that area, there's no way the could have survived the last couple of explosions. Concentrate your efforts on the main building."

"Right, Cap."

John and Roy pushed forward with Mark lagging behind.

Stanley reached out and grabbed the sleeve of the trainee's turnout coat. "Where the heck do you think you're going?"

"With them, of course." Mark replied without hesitation.

"Look, pal, I think you're carrying this trainee business too far. I can't let you go in that building with the paramedics."

"I don't think you have any choice, Cap. You accepted my assignment with the squad as a trainee. The Chief told you that meant I was to be treated no differently than any other man assigned to your station. I was in his office when the Chief explained that to you over the telephone."

"In routine calls, yes. But not this . . ."

"No - - the Chief's exact words were "all duties except for those times when paramedic certification was necessary." You agreed to that - - it's too late to back out of that agreement now."

"You must be out of your mind!" Cap blurted out. "Not only are you risking your life, but also Gage and DeSoto's, if you screw up in there. Did you stop and think of that?"

"Have you stopped to think of what could happen if you don't let me go with them? For one thing, you'll blow my cover. If you do that and this guy who's after you backs off for a while, then what?"

Stanley remained silent.

"Or suppose this is a set-up, like the flea market fire was?" Mark continued in a hard voice. "Are you willing to take that chance?"

The detective's words preyed on Cap's troubled thoughts.

"Look, we're wasting time. I understood and accepted the risks before I took the assignment," Scott pressed. "Your job is to contain this fire - - mine is to stick with these two," he said, pointing to the two paramedics. "even if it means going in there."

Not just John and Roy's life on my conscience, now this guy's too . . . Cap thought grimly. Worrying about the fire and the safety of his men was consuming enough: he hadn't stopped to consider the possibility of it being a trap.

"Okay . . ." Cap said in a raspy voice. He reluctantly released his grip on the sleeve of Mark's turnout coat. "Make it quick - - and if you guys run across anything unusual in there, get the hell out fast - -"

John nodded his head in understanding and the three men moved towards the entrance of the plant. The main portion of the building was just beginning to fill with smoke as the raging fire from the bungalows in the rear began to move forward.

The heat pressed against them. Even with the gear and breathing apparatus, Mark felt like he was being smothered. Sandwiched in between Gage and DeSoto, he began to lag behind.

"What's wrong?" Johnny shouted at Mark through his face mask.

Scott looked around for a moment with a mixture of feelings, fear and awe, at the bright glow and tongues of flame he saw waiting for them. The sights around him were nightmarish, worse than any police stakeout or raid he had been on.

Roy's calm, steady voice broke into his thoughts. "Look, Mark, you don't have to go through with this. Johnny and me won't think badly about you if you're having second thoughts."

He shook his head adamantly. The detective's well honed instincts told him that what he was after was somewhere ahead of them. "No . . . let's do what we came in here to do so we can get out."

The main area of the building was a confusing maze of rooms and corridors that went on endlessly. Deep inside the cavernous structure, the three came to a a halt in front of a stairway leading up to the second floor. Roy motioned for Johnny and Mark to search the upper level while he finished the floor they were on. None of them saw the figure watching them intently from the shadows underneath the metal stairway.

Three of them . . . Eric Carpenter thought in momentary confusion. Why is there suddenly three of them . . . Maybe his enemy wasn't as smart as Carpenter had thought, sacrificing three men instead of two. He decided it made little difference; taking three lives would make his pay back taste all the more sweeter.

Hunched over, his right arm cradled against his side, Eric Carpenter saw Roy disappear down one of the corridors. The tortured man looked down at the seared flesh of his arm and grimaced in agony. He had barely made it out in time before the lab exploded. Carpenter forced himself to ignore the agonizing pain that stabbed at him and concentrate instead on the task at hand.

Meanwhile, Roy found it was getting harder and harder to find his way through the smoke filled path he had taken. He saw a sea of fire in front of him, unquenchable in its thirst for destruction. This must be the corridor that leads to the bungalows . . . Roy thought.

A wall of intense heat slammed into DeSoto. He felt a tightness in his chest and then the air he was breathing suddenly had an acrid sting to it. The world around him swam in and out of focus for a moment forcing Roy to lean against one of the walls for support until the dizzy spell passed. The air masks aren't protecting us from whatever was in those labs . . . he thought, swallowing hard. I have to find Johnny and Mark, we need to get out of

here . . .

The dying building echoed the paramedic's sentiments. The sickening sound of failing metal rang in Roy's ears as he turned and started back the way he had just come.

On the second floor, Johnny and Mark had just completed their search of the labyrinth of rooms when they heard the groaning metal and decided on the same course of action. They were on the middle stair landing when Gage saw DeSoto sway unsteadily on his feet as he came around the bend towards them. Johnny grabbed Mark's arm and pointed then the two took the last six steps at run to make it to Roy's side just as the older paramedic sank to the ground.

Johnny looked at his partner in concern. "Roy!" he shouted. "Roy, can you hear me?" He saw DeSoto's lips move as the ailing paramedic mumbled something inaudible in response to his partner's voice.

The building seemed to shudder. A burning ceiling timber came crashing down near them as the major area of the fire shifted forward.

Gage wrapped his arms around Roy's midsection then motioned for the other man to take the ailing paramedics legs. They hadn't made it very far when another large section of the ceiling came down. Johnny felt a sinking feeling in the pit of this stomach as he realized that the three of them were boxed in and cut off from their only route of escape.

They were exhausted. The combination of the sweltering heat and the exertion of carrying Roy's extra weight tired out the two men. Mark leaned back against the wall and tried to catch his breath while Johnny took a quick look at his ailing partner. There was a sickly expression on Roy's pale face.

Mark watched anxiously as Gage worked. "What do you think it is?"

"I don't know," Johnny replied, shaking his head. He swallowed hard. The back of his throat felt like it was on fire. "Could be the heat . . . something else . . ." There was a bitter taste in his mouth that wasn't there earlier. "I think . . . there's something in the air . . ."

"Yeah . . ." Mark agreed. "I - I feel really tired all of the sudden . . ."

Johnny fumbled with the handi-talkie, pressing it close against the bottom of his face mask. "Engine 51 . . . HT 51. Cap -- we're in trouble - -"

Hank Stanley heard Gage's words and clenched his fist. "Damn," he muttered angrily, "I knew I shouldn't have sent them in there . . ." He looked up and saw Chet watching him. "Kelly! Go to the squad and get Gage and DeSoto's gear set up. They've run into some kind of trouble!" Cap raised the handi-talkie to his face. "HT 51, Engine 51. We're standing by to assist. What do you need, John?"

"Cap - -"

At first, the noise of the destruction going on around them and the harsh sound of his own breathing drowned out any noise from the bullet that Mark saw bounce off the ground near them. The detective grabbed Gage's arm, shaking his head furiously as he screamed. "No - tell them not to send anyone else in

here - -"

Confused, John stared at Mark blankly. Then another bullet bounced nearby and Gage suddenly understood what was happening. "Cap, we've got a Code L - - don't send anyone else in here!"

They saw a flicker of movement over by the stairs, then there was another shot.

"Now, what? This whole place is gonna come down on top of us any second now."

The detective nodded in agreement. "Either that or the air's gonna kill us first." A spasm of coughing overtook him for a moment.

Gage frowned. "Hey, let me take a look at you."

Mark protested, pushing the concerned paramedic away. "No, we've got to get out of here." He stared intently into the worseningly visibility. The last shot was closer, he must be making his move . . . The detective looked out again at the debris around them. A plan formed in his mind. "I have an idea but I'm gonna need your help." He looked at Gage with a gleam in his eyes. "Did you ever pretend you were a policeman when you were little?"

Johnny was certain that plainclothes officer had cracked under the pressure they were under. "What the devil are you talking about?"

"Just what I said. The shots are closer. He's moving towards us, that means he's ready to make his final move. I want you to talk to this guy, get his attention and keep it while I see if I can get around some of this debris and suprise him from behind."

"Talk to him? About what?"

"Anything! How he feels, why he's doing this, anything! Just keep him talking. It doesn't have to be for very long."

"I don't believe this . . ." Gage muttered. He caught a glimpse of the shadowy form moving towards them. "Man, you're gonna get us all killed!"

"It's not as hard as it sounds. The alternative is that none of us make it out of here."

Gage glanced back at Roy. DeSoto's color had gotten worse and it was obvious that his breathing was more labored. It didn't seem like he had much choice if he wanted his partner to have any chance of survival. "All right, but don't do anything stupid. I don't want to have two patients to treat . . ."

"Whatever you say . . ."

His concentration was so focused on the person coming towards them, that it took Johnny a while to notice that the detective had disappeared into the background.

Meanwhile, Eric Carpenter was bearing down on them, intent on finishing what he had started.

Johnny saw the man emerge from the darkness, the gun pointed at him and Roy. He put his hands up helplessly. "Hey, man," Gage said, rising to his feet. "you don't need that gun. We're firemen, we're not here to hurt you." He eyed the burns on the man's arm and grimaced. Looks like third degree . . . he thought, surprised that the man wasn't howling in pain at that point. "I'm a paramedic - why don't you let me look at that arm for you?"

Eric Carpenter closed his eyes tightly for a minute. He's trying to trick me by pretending that he cares, just like those doctors did in the hospital . . .

"Look, I don't want to hurt you," Johnny continued. "I just want to get you and my friend out of here, that's all."

The voice was sincere and comforting. Sick in mind and body, Carpenter felt his resolve weakening.

"You don't really want to hurt anybody, do you?"

"I - I have to," he hissed. The gun in his hand dropped slightly. "I was a fireman once, just like you. I was until Hank Stanley got through telling those lies about me, then I had nothing left, nothing . . ."

Johnny nodded in agreement. He saw Mark Scott approaching from behind. "You know, I think you're right, feeling the way you do. That was a pretty dirty trick for Cap to pull, talkin' about you that way . . ."

Carpenter seemed surprised by Gage's reply. Scott jumped the man from behind and the two began wrestling on the ground, the gun wavering dangerously between them. Then the gun discharged twice and the two bodies suddenly became still.

Johnny scrambled over to the fallen men. He eyed the gun with distaste as he moved the firearm aside then rolled over Eric Carpenter's body.

He felt the man's neck then fumbled for his wrist. No pulse . . . Gage thought, glancing down.

The other body began to move.

"Hey, man, you okay?" As Johnny helped the detective to a sitting position he noticed that the sleeve of the man's turnout coat was stained with blood.

"Yeah . . ." came the painfilled reply. "You can put in that call for help now," the man continued. "Sorry to disappoint you, but I'm afraid you're gonna have two patients to treat after all . . .

* * * *

"And there I was, the guy's gun pointed right at me . . ." John Gage paused for effect and glanced around at the group of wide eyed nurses gathered around his bed.

In the bed to Gage's left, Roy DeSoto rolled his eyes. "Here we go again . . ." he muttered in a hoarse voice, glancing up at the nurse who hovered over him.

Dixie McCall removed the stethoscope from around her neck and unwrapped the blood pressure cuff from DeSoto's arm. "BP's 120/70. Much better than when you two were brought in yesterday." Overcome by the fire's intense heat and fumes from the burning chemicals, the paramedics had been held at the hospital for observation. She gave her patient a sympathetic smile. "What's the matter, Roy? Is Johnny's storytelling starting to get to you?"

"Well, you know how Johnny is, Dix. Once was okay, but everytime someone new comes in to check on him he starts all over again. You know, I'm beginning to think he likes this police business better than being a paramedic."

"I don't think that would ever happen but there's definitely something I can do to help." Dixie sighed. "All right, ladies," she said sternly to the nurses. "This is a hospital, full of patients who need your attention a lot more than these two do. Now get busy."

Roy watched the nurses leave and breathed a sigh of relief. "Thanks, Dix. Now maybe I

can get some rest."

"Thanks a lot, Roy!" Gage grumbled.

Meanwhile, Hank Stanley paused outside of the door of Gage and DeSoto's room. For the first time in a while, he felt good. He had been tied up for most of the previous day at the chemical plant, talking to the police, making arrangements for his injured men. And then there was Eric Carpenter. He was saddened by the tragedy of the man's death but relieved that no other lives had been lost.

"Hey, Cap?" The familiar voice interrupted his thoughts.

Stanley smiled and shook the man's hand. "How are you doin', Mark?" He said, pointing the sling the detective wore. "Surprised to see you up and around so quickly."

"Yeah, I was surprised too when the doctor said I could go home today. Guess I just live right. I saw you standing there and wanted to say goodbye before I took off."

"I want to thank you for what you did. I owe you, pal."

"I was just doing my job, but you're welcome."

"Hey, if you ever have second thoughts and want to become a firefighter, you just let me know. There's a place for you at Station 51."

"Well, who knows? Someday I might take you up on that." He shook Stanley's hand again. "Take care, Cap."

Just then, Dixie came through the door, almost bumping into Stanley.

"Good morning," Dixie said.

"It is a good morning," Cap replied. "I wasn't sure that I would ever feel that way again."

"I can imagine. This is your day off, isn't it?"

Stanley nodded. "It is, but I thought I'd see how my men were doing. How are things going?"

"Well, I think I'll let you be the judge of that," Dixie said, holding the door ajar.

"You know what, Roy?" Johnny was saying. "You're ungrateful. I could've been killed . . ."

Stanley shook his head. "Gage, what am I going to do with you . . ." he muttered. "Would it help if I talked to him?"

"Well, Dr. Brackett said he's thinking of releasing them later on today. I don't know how much longer Roy's going to be able to stand to hear about Johnny's adventures as a policeman though."

"I'll take care of it," he said, pushing past her.

Gage heard the door open and stopped talking in mid sentence.

"How are you guys doing today?" Stanley asked.

"Good mornin', Cap," Roy said, shifting up in the bed. "Better than yesterday."

"You look better, that's for sure." He looked at his two paramedics warmly. "I appreciate what you guys did at that chemical plant."

"We didn't do anything," Gage said. "That detective did all the work."

"No, you stuck your neck out for me. I won't forget it, either."

"Don't let him kid you, Cap," Roy said. "He loved every minute of it. That's all he's talked about since we got to the hospital."

"Oh, really?" Cap said, furrowing his brow. "Thinking of making a career change, John?"

Johnny glared at his partner. "Roy's just mad because he missed out on all the excitement."

"Speaking of that," Cap said, changing the subject. "I just had a little talk with Miss McCall out in the hallway. Listen you guys - - I don't want to hear that either one of you is causing any trouble here at Rampart. Cooperate. Do what the doctor tells you to do. You need to get out of here and get back to work. It's not the same around the station without you guys there."

"Will do, Cap." Roy said.

"Yeah, Cap, we'll try . . ." Gage said.

"Good. I need to run," he said, heading towards the door. He paused. "Oh, Lopez and Kelly said they'd be by later to see you too."

"Great. Someone new that Johnny can tell his story to." Roy said. "See ya later, Cap."

Roy settled back against the pillow and closed his eyes.

Johnny glanced at his partner then picked up the television remote control from the tray in front of him. He flipped through the channels, then sat forward in the bed. "Hey! Adam-12 is on, Roy. We don't have to worry about missing the end of the show either."

DeSoto groaned. "Haven't you had enough of that stuff for a while? Turn it down, I'm trying to sleep."

"Okay . . .okay . . ." Gage adjusted the volume. He watched the show for about ten minutes before clicking the set off. "Hey, Roy?"

"Yeah?" DeSoto replied in a sleepy voice.

"That police stuff isn't as easy as it looks on TV, you know?"

"I think I said that to you the day we were talking in Cap's office. I am kinda sorry that I missed seeing you in action though."

"You didn't miss much. I've decided that I'd better stick with what I'm best at."

Roy sighed. "For a minute there, I was afraid that you liked it so much you were going to make it a career."

"Roy, I'm being serious - You know we watch that stuff on television all the time, and that's okay. But I'll take being a paramedic over that any day."

"Even if means missing meals and dealing with people like the owner of that hardware store?"

"Yeah . . . after all, we're the best team in the business, right?"

"Yeah . . . we are." DeSoto relaxed as the bone-weary fatigue he felt began to claim him. He settled down to rest, content in knowing that things really were back to normal after all.

The End