Chapter 2
Two shifts later found the fire station crew gathering once more for roll call. Everyone was on time, in line and ready for Cap. Looking down at his roll sheet he realized that he'd have to assign latrine based on rotation instead of punishment. What a concept!
"Word from the chief," he read down the memo. "Two more squads were broken into. Both times the crew was there and followed the directive. The 48's 'B' shift and the 36's 'C' shift." The men shifted uneasily.
"What happened?" Chet asked voicing all their concerns.
"Middle of the night, sounds from the apparatus bay," Hank related. "Crew turned on the lights and came out to find two guys with crow bars and a gun popping open the squad's doors. Says here Myers actually got the key for them and opened the compartment so they didn't wreck it. They took the entire drug box both times."
"Guess no one got the plates?" Marco asked.
"Doesn't say," Stanley reviewed the missive. "Just reiterates we let the guys take what they want and stay safe."
"Johnny-boy didn't follow the directive," Chet pointed out.
"Hey, this was at the ER and Dixie was involved," Johnny quickly rejoined. "No way I was going to let Dixie get hurt!"
"Yes, we discussed that particular incident," Cap gave his younger paramedic a level glare. "And we won't be pulling any heroics here."
"He promised me and Dr. Brackett he'd let us deal with any guns next time," Roy inserted. Everyone could hear Johnny's rumbling from the end of the line.
"Ok, Ok, and this isn't Rampart!" Gage asserted. "That was a totally different set-up. I'm more than willing to stand back and let 'em take what they want."
"Good," Cap said. "And I expect each of you to stand back! No heroics!" He received a grudging chorus of "yes sirs" from his men.
"Now, Lopez, you have latrines, Stoker, dorms, Kelly and Desoto, hoses. Gage, day room/kitchen and dishes. I'll cook today," he finished out the duties. "Let's get to work."
The day started quietly. The men worked diligently at their tasks and found themselves gathering in the dayroom. Stanley pulled out some notes and reviewed factory fires dealing with paint with his crew. Then, since it was so quiet, they timed one another getting the scba gear on. Gage won handily, his arms a blur. Marco and Chet tied for last.
"Given how often he gets hurt he should get the best time!" Kelly muttered to Lopez.
"Let's get him to show us his technique," Lopez whispered back. "Even out the field."
"Hey, yeah, that'd work!" Chet agreed. "Johnny? Me and Marco want ta talk with you." While Cap went to cook lunch, the three firemen went over the scba. Stoker and DeSoto stayed behind to watch the 'lesson'.
"Lunch!" Hank called thirty minutes later. He'd made clam chowder and salad for lunch. Johnny zipped in and quickly pulled down bowls and plates, setting them on the sideboard. In record time he had silverware, napkins and place mats down.
"Ok, Cap, me and Marco want you to time us again at the scba!" Chet declared as he walked through the door.
"Yeah, Cap, we really improved our times!" Lopez chimed in.
"I can't believe it, but both of them would have beat out Roy," Mike shook his head. Roy had come in second.
"Not Gage?" Hank inquired.
"No one's gonna touch that time," DeSoto said. "It's not possible." As Cap ladled out bowls Gage brought them to the table and passed them to each of the men. The salad was passed around as was a plate of crusty rolls. Soon they were happily tucking in to a delicious lunch.
They'd just barely finished when the tones rang out. Long and complicated calling three stations and an extra squad.
"Station 36, station 51, station 48, squad 10, apartment fire. 905 Glendale Boulevard. Cross street, Pacific Avenue. Time out, 12:50."
"Station 51, KMG 365," Hank tore the slips and passed one to Roy. Gage and Stoker traced the street map finding the location and scoping out the best route.
"Construction on Woodruff," Mike said tersely.
"Bellflower, then, less signals," Johnny decided and then both men moved to their vehicles. Within a few minutes they could see the smoke.
"Engine 51, use the hydrant at north corner of Pacific and Glendale," a voice called over the radio.
"Engine 51, 10-4," Cap replied as the engine followed the squad around the corner and down to the proper hydrant. Gage popped out of the squad and grabbed the hose to attach.
The 36s had arrived first and their captain took point on the fire. He requested 51s paramedics to join 48s in setting up a triage area his paramedics and 10s began to sweep the building.
The first of the wounded came out on their own feet. Roy took over as triage lead and began sorting patients by need. The fire itself seemed to be on the third floor and streams of water were being directed into broken windows. 48s was using its basket to bring people down from the third and fourth floors. No one appeared to be up on the roof.
Brice and Murphy, a sub, came out first carrying a man that had been caught in the fire.
"Looks bad," Murphy began only to be over-ridden by Brice.
"2nd and 3rd degree burns on his left arm and upper left back," he delineated. "Also, he has a compound fracture on his right arm. He is conscious and in pain." Johnny quickly accepted the patient on the tarp and began taking vitals.
"We're going to sweep the fourth floor," Murphy said. "10s is sweeping 2 and 3."
"You guys need a break?" Roy asked.
"We're good," Brice said, Murphy agreed quickly. They headed back to the basket to get up to the 5th floor. Johnny started pulling sterile sheeting out and Roy joined him.
They were careful and thorough, using sterile sheeting and wetting it all down. Rampart was contacted and soon an IV and morphine was on board. Given the severity of the injuries, he was on the first ambulance out with Gage on board.
It was a quick turn-around; Roy was there and the two paramedics headed back to the fire. When they made it to the triage area the 48s were gone and Both Brice and Murphy were working on burn victims.
"You get the sweep done?" Johnny asked.
"10s finishing it up," Brice reported. "Only the basement left." 51s helped the two work on their patients until the 10s returned fortunately empty-handed.
"Clear, Johnson reported as he pulled off his scba. "Cap said everyone was accounted for."
"That's good," Roy said as he held the IV bag for Brice. The patient was conscious and in some pain. He glanced to his partner and could see their patient was much worse off. The smell of charred flesh was nauseating.
Murphy had turned the man over to Johnny. He was new and had never seen a human body so horribly disfigured. The trainer in Gage had come out and he was explaining every part of the treatment trying to help the younger man get through the rescue.
"Now carefully pour the saline over the sheeting," he instructed. "We have the IV set and the morphine on board so he'll not be in too much pain right now." He took some wet gauze and wiped the man's face somewhat clean. The burning was confined to his back left leg and part of his buttocks. As the cool liquid flooded the area the man began to wake up.
"Hey, there, Jerry," Johnny crooned in a soft voice, "you waking up?" The man blinked his eyes and then jerked, trying to get away.
"It's ok, we got you out," the paramedic continued. "You have some burns on your leg but we've covered them and gave you something for the pain." Jerry licked his lips and ceased struggling.
"Bad?" he grunted.
"Not too bad," Johnny said. "We're going to get you over to Rampart Emergency and let the docs take care of you."
"You... stay?" he ground out.
"Yep, I'll be with you until the doctor releases me," he promised. Jerry reached out to hold onto Gage's sleeve. Carefully he moved the hand to the front of his jacket and continued his ministrations.
Murphy settled marginally. He watched the experienced paramedic continue to follow doctor's orders as he kept the patient as calm as possible. The smell alone was causing him all sorts of problems and he wanted to leave, to go hold a hose. Something that didn't remind him how fragile life really was.
A hand patted his shoulder and he glanced up at Brice.
"It's ok, Murphy," the other paramedic said. "I'll ride in the ambulance. Bring our squad to Rampart."
"I'll help ya get everything picked up once they leave," Roy added with a supportive smile. Feeling better he allowed himself to simply kneel next to the patient, holding the IV bag and listening to Gage keep up the soothing chatter. Soon the ambulances arrived and both patients were loaded and sent off to Rampart. DeSoto and Murphy cleaned up and packed both squads.
"Sorry, I kind of froze up," the young paramedic said. Roy put a hand on his shoulder.
"Hey, Gary, don't worry about it," he said. "This is a tough rescue. Burn victims, especially when they're as bad as the three we saw today, are hard. You'll be fine."
"Thanks," he murmured as he started for the driver's seat of 36s squad.
By the time Johnny and Roy made it back to the station it was dinner time. Both were hungry and wanted nothing more than to sit in a quiet corner and eat.
Until they opened the squad's door and smelled the bar-b-cue in the back. The stench of burning flesh hit their noses and sent Johnny on the run to the bathroom, followed closely by his partner.
"I'm not hungry," Gage said as he leaned against the stall.
"I think we should go back to Rampart," Roy suggested. "Forgot to resupply. We can grab a salad there."
"Think the Cap would buy that?" John asked miserably.
"Think the Cap would buy what?" a deep voice intoned from the sink. Stanley was trying to decide exactly what had happened to both paramedics that had caused them to become ill.
"Uhm, that we need to resupply?" Roy ask tentatively.
"Ok, guys, what's up," it was a statement, not a question. If possible, Johnny went another shade lighter.
"It's just that the meat, it smells..." he tried, hugging the toilet bowl once more. Hank was not a dense man. He suddenly knew exactly what the problem was. He was hit by a wave of guilt for not realizing how the two men would react.
"Well, then, you'd both better get on back to Rampart and pick up those supplies," he said. "You'll stay available and I expect you back in an hour." That would give them time to air out the station and clean up after they ate. Hopefully they wouldn't be toned out.
Roy made it up and out to the squad first, followed by his partner. They climbed back inside and took off for the hospital, windows down and the cool spring air filling their lungs. Gage leaned back against the seat.
"I feel stupid," he moaned.
"I don't," Roy said. "It's a normal reaction. Especially given how close we were working with those patients! Poor Murphy got sick before we followed you and Brice in."
"Man, that's rough," Johnny agreed. "It's tough enough for us, and we've dealt with severe burns before. I could tell Gary was overwhelmed, but he did ok."
"Yeah, he'll be fine," Roy agreed.
"I don't think you ever get used to some stuff," Johnny mused. "Rescues like that remind me how fragile life is and yet how much abuse a body can withstand." Roy nodded his agreement and gave his friend a pat on the knee. They rode in comfortable silence.
They were greeted by Dixie when they arrived at the nurse's station. Dr. Morton was charting next to her.
"Didn't you two just leave?" she asked as she took their list.
"Forgot to resupply," Roy said as he shrugged. Morton took a closer look at the pair.
"You both look a bit pale and stressed," he commented. "You sure your captain didn't send you back for treatment?"
"No, just the supplies," Johnny said giving his best loopy grin. But the doctor wasn't buying their act and the nurse was deeply suspicious. Glancing down the hall she caught sight of Dr. Brackett.
"Kel?" she called out. "Have a moment?" He looked at the pair of paramedics. They looked like he felt. Totally washed out.
"I seem to be free," he said as he came up to the desk.
"These two look a little peaked," Morton said. Brackett took a closer look.
"We're fine, doc," Roy started to explain but was cut off with a glare from the younger doctor. Johnny tried.
"Doc, they were bar-b-cuing when we got back," he interjected quickly before Morton could over rule him as well. Kel immediately straightened.
"I understand," he said simply.
"Well, I certainly don't!" Dixie began. Mike seconded her.
"Three burn victims," Brackett said, waiting for the pieces to fall into place. A look of horror passed quickly over both faces. Dixie picked up the slip and went to fetch supplies while Morton cleared his throat and went back to charting.
"You going to eat here?" Kel asked the two men.
"Yeah," Roy said. "Junior's pretty hungry." He received a nudge from 'Junior'.
"You said something about a salad," Johnny countered.
"I could use some dinner as well," Kel said. "Let's go check out the salad bar. Dixie will hold your supplies for now."
Herding the two like a nervous border collie, the doctor moved them down to the elevator
"We don't mean to be a problem, Dr. Brackett," Roy apologized.
"You're not," he assured them both. "Those three patients, especially the first, were the worst burn cases we've had in a long time. I'm sure the smell was overwhelming." They nodded in agreement as the elevator doors opened and more appetizing smells of non-bar-b-cued food reached them.
After eating and picking up supplies the two men once more drove back to the station and backed the squad in. This time when their doors opened they smelled chocolate permeating the station. Following their noses yet again they found Cap in the process of pulling a tray of cookies out of the oven.
"Well, the prodigal sons have returned just in time for dessert," he teased. "Marco found a roll of cookie dough in the fridge and claimed it for our shift. They looked skeptically at their captain, especially Johnny who'd cleaned the aforementioned refrigerator
out earlier and hadn't seen cookie dough.
"Great, now we'll have to split the cookies with two more people!" Chet groused.
"Hey, it'll help save that girlish figure of yours," Mike countered with a grin. He received a mock glare from the firefighter. Coffee was poured and soon the six men were scattered about, watching the TV news discussing the day's events or playing cards at the table.
Johnny cleaned up the kitchen before settling down next to Roy and watched him play out his hand. He never was very good at cards and still remembered the way Cap had changed the firehouse tradition a couple years before. Now he could play cards and lose (as normal) and not get the dishes every shift.
After the hand played out Mike dealt him in. He couldn't believe his luck, being dealt a diamond flush. Johnny tried to tool his face into indifference, but failed miserably. His eyes gave away his hand. Everyone folded.
"John, your face gives it away every time!" Hank said as he tossed his cards back to Mike.
"You just get so excited over your hand," Roy chuckled. Cards were shuffled and dealt. This time Gage had three tens. He wondered if he could possibly not look excited. Carefully he looked over the cards, then selected two cards to toss back. So far, so good.
He felt Mike's eyes on him and gave him a lop-sided grin. With a huff the engineer tossed in three cards. Cap and Roy followed suit. Additional cards were dealt and Gage looked in disbelief. Four tens. He clamped down his emotions and waited for someone else to start the betting. Chips were ante'd up and soon a respectable pot waited for the winner.
Johnny got a little nervous as the chips kept coming in. What if someone else had a better hand? How could anyone else have a better hand! He threw in the current ante and called. Hank tossed his cards aside.
"I'm out," he determined. Roy followed leaving Mike looking curiously at the younger paramedic.
"So, it's 25 to see your hand?" he asked and received a quick nod. The man seemed a bit nervous. He was trying to bluff! Mike tossed the requisite number of chips in and laid his hand out: two pairs, queens over eights.
Then Johnny carefully spread his hand out: four of a kind. With a smile threatening to split his face in half he raked in all the chips.
"You... you..." Mike searched for an acceptable name and came up with none.
"Johnny skunked ya!" Roy laughed.
Tones started. "Engine 51, trash fire, 439 Sequoia Avenue. Cross street, Santa Ana Boulevard. Time out, 19:32."
"Station 51, KMG 365," Stanley responded. Roy and Johnny watched as the engine pulled out into the street then turned back to the dayroom. Gage immediately started cleaning up, fluffing pillows, carrying glasses over to the sink. DeSoto sat down and watched the whirling dervish.
"You could slow down a bit," he pointed out. Johnny glanced over at him.
"Why?" he asked in a bemused tone.
"'Cause you're wearing me out," Roy teased. "I'm getting exhausted watching ya!" Johnny chuckled, then pulled a straight face.
"Old man," he tied off the trash bag and started to open the door. There was a noise out in the apparatus bay. Then another. The paramedics looked at each other.
"Lots of noise," Roy said. "HEY! WHO'S OUT THERE?" he called.
"WE'RE COMING OUT!" Johnny added. The two men cautiously entered the bay. To their disbelief, there were two men, crowbar and gun in hand, prying into the squad's compartments.
"Hey, fireboys," one grinned, "got the keys to this?" he asked waving his gun. Roy put his hand on Johnny arm then walked over to the passenger door.
"Let me," he said equitably. Using the key he unlocked the doors and pulled out the drug box, setting it on the floor by their feet. He then carefully stepped back.
"Ok, guys," Johnny said calmly, "you got what you wanted. We aren't going to stop you."
"You're a funny-looking one, ya know," the man with the crowbar said. "Mexican?"
"Don't look like a Mexican," the gun man said. Looks more like an injun.
"Injun, eh?" said the first. "Suppose to be good at carryin' stuff. Learned that in fifth grade history. The priests used 'em to do all the grunt work."
"Hey, we can use one of those!" declared the gunman. "Come on, injun, carry our box!" Alarmed, Roy stood in front of his partner.
"Just take the drugs!" he insisted.
"Maybe we need help," the gunman raised his gun and walked towards Roy.
"Come on, injun, carry the box to the car," he commanded. Johnny silently walked over and picked up the drug box.
"Cool!" said crowbar. "Out the front door. Car's on the street." Johnny did as he was told and walked out and down the driveway. He looked at the late model caddy and stood obediently by the trunk ready to put the box in.
The crowbar man followed him and opened the trunk. With a smirk he reached down and PUSHED Johnny into the trunk with the box slamming the lid down. His partner laughed as the gun moved from Roy to the squad. Two shots and the tire was flat.
"We'll just dial 911 when we want to return him," he said as he walked down to the car and climbed into the front seat.
"Be good and we'll return 'im sooner," he called as the car moved forward. Roy quickly looked at the license plate and tried to memorize the number. Then he ran back into the station to call the police. And Cap. He had to call Cap!
Soon flashing lights surrounded the station as two cruisers and battalion chief's car came. The engine returned in time to hear Roy's anguished recap of the kidnapping.
"He said he'd call, but I don't know," Roy related the conversation. "Why'd they take Johnny? He didn't do anything!"
"Roy," Vince tried to calm his friend, "there's no telling why. These guys have been hitting fire stations for the past couple of weeks and they just keep getting bolder in their demands. At least you got the plate. We're running it now."
"Vince, what are you going to do?" Hank broke into the conversation as he pulled off his turnouts.
"Sit tight," he said, "we're running the plates."