UPDATED AGAIN! Thank you to the guest reviewers who pointed out my tenses were a mess and things weren't developed. Hopefully, everything is now fixed. I apologize to anyone who dislikes the posting again for the third time. I am just trying to make this story the best it can be for readers.

"Good morning, good morning, good morning," Johnny greeted loudly and cheerfully. Pouring coffee for him and Roy, he sat down and grabbed the sports page from the newspaper laying on the kitchen table.

"I heard about why you're early," Roy softly informed Johnny as he too grabbed part of the paper after sitting down a couple minutes later.

"How?" Johnny grinned, knowing exactly how.

"Mike," came the succinct response.

Grinning even bigger, Johnny whispered to Roy, "And just think, Chet is now just pulling up. Think of the fit he'll have."

As he burst into a small fit of giggles, Roy tried to hold back his smile, but there was no way to do so. The men of 'C' Shift looked towards the two and seeing the looks on their faces, knew instantly something was up. Even Captain Hookrader knew, and like his men, chose to stick around a bit longer to see what would happen.

As the sounds of Chet entering the locker room in a quick pace came echoing to those inside the dayroom, Hank crept into the room. He hoped that it looked like he simply needed a refill on coffee and wanted to check on his men, when in reality he had seen Johnny arrive early with a suspicious package. Although he had no idea what was to come, there was no way Captain Stanley wanted to miss the fireworks.

Feet sounded as they raced across the bay and the dayroom door burst open. The moment he saw Johnny, Chet started stammering. No one could understand what the man was saying, though, with no shoes on, his shirt unbuttoned so his hairy chest was exposed, and his belt gone, none of the men were trying as each was laughing too hard.

"I…you…die…" Chet became so frustrated, all he could do was lunge at Johnny.

"Whoa, whoa," Hank said, still smiling, but at last able to suppress his laughter. "What's going on?"

"He, he…" sputtered Chet.

"He what?" Roy asked, not sure if he was trying to be helpful or spur the man on more.

"Look!"

"At?" asked Hank, trying to sound patient and unaware anything unusual happened.

Grabbing his Captains' hands, Chet dragged him through the bay, with everyone following behind at a close distance. As Chet opened his locker again, the Captain from the previous shift and his men, along with 'A' Shift crowded around to peer inside the locker.

Trying to be serious, Hank nodded, "I see. So, why did you wrap your things in plastic?"

Lunging at Johnny again, Hank knew the Irish man had been pushed far enough.

"Okay, okay. Chet, get dressed," the Captain told him. "John will be more than happy to help you get your things unwrapped. After he is done with the latrines. Isn't that right, John?"

"Yes, sir," John replied quickly since Roy had grabbed him and began pulling him out of the room.

"What on earth posed you to do that?" Roy wondered, running his hands through his hair, a befuddled expression on his face.

"Seemed like a good idea," John admitted sheepishly as he went to finish his coffee.

Following his partner into the dayroom, Roy finally let out a huge roar of laughter that he had been holding in.

"That was genius. I hate to admit it, but I think I'm kind of proud," Roy breathlessly told his partner while he looked towards him with amazement.

"Yeah, now I gotta undo it," sighed John.

"Just think, though," Roy said in an effort to cheer him up. "For once, the pigeon got the Phantom."

Buoyed by that thought, Johnny was once again back in high spirits. The low call volumes and easiness of the calls they did respond to helped as well. However, just around 2:30 a.m., a call went out for two stations to a well-known senior care facility. Ten minutes later, another call came over the speakers for a larger group home. One large station was called out along with a much smaller station.

With this call, everyone in Station 51 was fully awake, hoping and praying that it was just an eerie coincidence. It was not to be as five minutes later yet another station was called out to an empty warehouse. None of these seemed connected as they were spread across the county, yet to have so many fires at once could only mean one thing. The arsonists had decided to strike and strike hard. With bated breath, no one dared to move as they all watched the clock slowly tick each second and minute by. It seemed as if an eternity passed by with each click.

Captain Stanley knew he should say something, anything, but this time, he wasn't sure what to say. It seemed to him as if what the police and fire investors had feared were coming to pass. This night might be the turning point where either this father and son duo were caught, or they escaped to terrorize another city. Maybe even continued to terrorize their city. With that thought, his heart seemed to freeze and leap into his throat.

I don't know what I'll do, what any of us will do, if this continues on, Hank despaired. How many more times can we be expected to rush in, only to find death and destruction by the hands of mad men? How long till we all break and are unable to recover?

Mike looked around at his crew mates before his eyes settled on his Captain. How on earth could any of his brothers not be changed this night was beyond him. Each of them looked paralyzed, on edge, hopeless, yet determined.

Determined, yes. But how much can we really do? Mike wondered. These guys seem to be ahead of us and know how to get to us. How to wear us down until we want to scream and cry out from the horror of it all. I don't know how Cap is keeping it together or keeping us together. I don't know how I'd be able to handle this much pressure as a Captain. I can barely hang on as it is.

Chet was watching Marco as he recited prayers to himself unaware. By doing so, he could pray along with his friend and not focus on his crew, his brothers-in-arms. His family. He could forget about the worry darting in and out of his mind, the question of when they would be called in to fight the beast. He was sure there was no if. Not with this many fires.

This is just too much, Chet realized. Sooner or later, one of us is going to get killed by these guys. What if it's one of us? How can we deal with that? Why can't these guys be stopped!

Marco, as he whispered prayers long memorized, watched the clock and used the seconds ticking away, much as he would his Rosary for prayers. He tried to drown out his own worries and fears for his family here by reminding himself that there had to be a greater plan and purpose. Still, Marco worried and fretted as each second ticked by and each word went through his mind as he pleaded with G-d.

G-d, please protect us, Marco pleaded. We need you more than ever. We need your guidance. We need you to find these guys and stop them.

Roy kept looking between the clock and Johnny after making sure the others were okay. As okay as they could be this night anyway. He wasn't sure what he was more scared of, Johnny's reaction, or being called in to do their duty. Perhaps the aftereffects. His mind kept going back to his beautiful wife Joanne, who he needed, wanted, more days with, his two kids that he wanted to see grow up and have children of their own. Shaking his head clear of his morbid thoughts, Roy reminded himself that these were thoughts he always had after a bad fire, it was just that this night, with the warning, he was thinking of them know.

Just make it through tonight, Roy coached himself. Worry about everything else later. I just hope Johnny can hang on. No! I know him better than that… He will be fine. We got a job to do, he'll do it. Just like me.

Johnny felt frozen in his mind. He knew this was a possibility. Not even a possibility, but more of a when type of situation. On one hand, he just wanted the Klaxons to call out their station, but prayed for more time. Trying to sift through his thoughts, all he thought as the Klaxons called out for them, was "Time's Up."