What a Pain! -Chapter Twenty-Two
One of the policemen called for additional squads and ambulances, and the sirens could be heard screaming into the vicinity. It was just past three o'clock in the morning and several of Mike's neighbors were in their pajamas, standing on the sidewalk. They were talking, craning their necks, and trying to see what was going on. Gradually, they began to wander into Mike's front yard. The neighbors who had been helping Mike since he came home from the hospital were all fretting about "that nice young man, Michael" and hoping he was okay. Mary stood in her pink housecoat and fuzzy slippers, her hand over her mouth and tears in her eyes.
Officers Blake and Gonzalez charged over to Piper and Jordan and dropped to the ground beside them. Roy also vaulted the barrier, but sprinted to Johnny's side. Voices swirled around Johnny's head and he couldn't seem to understand all the commotion going on. He had enough to do just trying to take in a breath and not throw up.
Eddie Jordan lay curled up on the damp grass, clawing fruitlessly at the earth. He wheezed and gasped for air; the veins in his neck bulging as he struggled. A pink, frothy substance bubbled from his lips and ran down his cheek. Although Gonzalez ran to Eddie and kicked the gun out of the man's reach, the police officer didn't seem in a terrible rush to help him.
Officer Piper, on the other hand, lay on his back, with a single gunshot wound to the center of his chest. Blood oozed thickly from the site and he was still. His eyes were open, yet unseeing, and as his body began to shut down, his lips formed words, with barely a sound escaping.
Blake stood near Piper, his partner of only five months. He hurriedly wadded up his handkerchief and pressed it tightly to the wound in Piper's chest, attempting to stem the bleeding. "What happened, man?" Blake asked, his voice shaking, "You...you coulda'...waited for me, or, or come back. Aw, shit, Pipe, you didn't have to do this."
Piper's eyes blinked and his fingers wandered over to Blake's hand. Blake looked down when he felt the touch and Piper gasped out, "I...Jor...dan...we took...guns...we...sold 'em..."
Blake's eyes widened in disbelief. "Pipe...the guns from the crime lab? You took 'em? All those missin' guns?"
A blink of his eyes and a barely perceptible nod was all Piper could give, and Blake couldn't understand how he could have been so blind. "Why...are you telling me this, Pipe? I...I never thought you were in on it..."
Piper only whispered, "Sssorr..ry..."
It was the typical death-bed confession, often occurring when someone knew their time was up. Blake had heard dozens of them...just, never from a friend. When they had been paired up, Blake had taken Piper under his wing and looked forward to showing another rookie the ropes. As apparent as the young man could sometimes be, Blake never once picked up on the dirty dealings his new partner was involved in. Now the senior officer questioned his own abilities. "Hmph, over a dozen years on the force and this is how good I am," he said quietly; a single tear escaping. He looked back at Piper and saw the young man had quietly succumbed to his injuries.
"Aw, man," Blake said, choking up. "Pipe..." Blake couldn't finish. He knew Piper was gone and closed his partner's eyes for him in a final gesture of solidarity. He stood and turned to face the other police officers and called out sadly, "Martin, call for the coroner...Piper's dead."
Roy knelt on the ground, lying next to a prone Johnny, his arm wrapped loosely around Gage's shoulder. "Johnny?" he asked shakily, "Can you hear me, Junior?"
Johnny couldn't take in enough air to respond. His ribs hurt so much, he would have cried if he had the strength. He moved his fingers enough for Roy to understand he was responding to his questions.
"Johnny, there's going to be an ambulance here any minute, okay? We're gonna get you to Rampart and you'll be alright," Roy told him. He took a gauze pad from his pocket and unwrapped it, and gently wiped the dripping blood from under Johnny's nose. When Roy placed a hand lightly on his partner's back, Johnny gasped and let out a weak cry, which made DeSoto pull his hand away in alarm. He hadn't seen Jordan hit Johnny, and didn't know that the blow from the shovel had broken three of his partner's ribs.
"Oh god, I'm sorry, Johnny, are you hurt there?" Roy asked worriedly, and began to feel for other injuries. There was a squeaked-out "Yeah" from Johnny and an anxious Roy sat up and wiped his sweaty palms on his thighs, impatient for the next ambulance. Berman and Chen, the two paramedics from Squad 23 came through the gate followed by two ambulance attendants with a gurney. They instinctively headed for Jordan, whose struggles were hard to ignore. Roy hurried to step in between them, and said, "Over here!"
"Roy? That Johnny?" one of the medics asked, pointing to the dark-haired figure on the ground.
"Yeah, and he's hurt pretty bad." Pointing a thumb towards Jordan he said, "That asshole beat him."
Berman and Chen were torn between doing what they were obligated to do, which was treat Jordan first, and their loyalty to John Gage, who was their friend and comrade. Only a moment passed before their senior paramedic spoke.
"Roy, we gotta..."
Roy interrupted, "Yeah...I know. Just get the other guys over here, will ya'? Johnny needs help, badly."
"Yeah," Berman said, "we will. Chen, I got this guy for now. How about you go tell the other guys that Gage needs them?"
"You got it, bud," Chen responded, then turned and ran to the other squad. "Hey, guys! Over here! Pronto!"
Roy went back to Johnny and looked up at the arriving paramedics, Karl Sandler and Marty Williams. "His back is hurt; he doesn't want me to touch it. I think he has a coupla' broken ribs," Roy informed them. "His nose is still bleeding a little, it may be broken, too. Jordan beat him...he...he...oh, damn," Roy stopped to take in a breath, "that bastard beat the hell out of him."
"Okay, Roy, we got it from here," Marty told him. Roy nodded and sat down next to Johnny's head and leaned in. He exhaled a stream of comforting words in Johnny's ear and his fingers floated above John's body, unsure of where to touch his friend. The paramedics cut away Gage's shirt and jeans and the three men simultaneously sucked in a breath when they saw the bruising that was swiftly developing. There was a moment of hard, angry silence as they looked upon Gage's body. With every touch or movement, Johnny could only whimper, and it looked as if every square inch was becoming black and blue. Each man swallowed back their rage toward Eddie Jordan, and went to work, helping their friend.
"Sshhh, it's okay, Junior. We'll get you outta here real soon, I promise, sshhhh...," Roy consoled.
Sandler had detected the broken ribs as well and made note of a possibly broken collarbone. It would be immensely painful to be moved, but Johnny needed to be transported immediately. It was decided to keep Johnny on his stomach, apply the c-collar, and slide the backboard underneath. Swiftly, and with compassion, Johnny was loaded onto the backboard then transferred to the gurney with a minimal amount of jarring. In the light of the ambulance's interior, Williams peeled back the blanket which covered Gage, and searched for the least bruised area of Johnny's arms, with which to take a BP reading.
Somehow, Johnny had protected his right arm from Jordan's assault by tucking it under himself, and that appeared to be the only unbruised spot Chen could find. Sandler sat on the jump seat, gaining contact with Rampart Emergency, and Roy sat on the bench near Gage's head, fitting the O2 mask over his partner's face.
"We're leaving soon, Johnny..." Roy told his friend, "You're gonna be okay...hang in there..."
The coroner's dark wagon backed up over the curb and into the front lawn, a stark symbol of something gone terribly wrong. Two men exited, retrieved a gurney from the back, and rolled it through the gate. Piper's body was loaded up and wheeled out in silence. Officer Blake followed the somber parade to the van and placed his hand on the blanket-covered corpse of his former partner. "What a waste...what a fuckin' waste," he sighed. "Pipe, you dumb ass, you coulda' been one of the good guys." He slowly walked away as Piper's body was slid into the van and taken away to the morgue.
Eddie Jordan, the man so hell-bent on misguided vengeance, had also been whisked away to Rampart, his earlier thrashing stilled. He gasped ineffectively for air and his eyes stared vacantly upward. He had shot himself up with a hefty dose of heroin as a 'courage-booster' just before he entered Mike's yard, but this time, it seemed his body had finally had enough. His heart was now slowing down and his lungs were filling with the fluid he now choked on. His face was a dusky blue and no amount of oxygen was going to bring the breath of life back to him. The paramedics had tried to find a suitable spot for an IV, but Jordan's excessive using had collapsed many of his veins. They would be at Rampart soon, but Death was waiting patiently for Eddie Jordan.
Sandler unwrapped the BP cuff from Johnny's arm and rattled off the readings to Williams. Gage's BP was 100/60 and falling, pulse was 120, and his respirations were only eight. Roy watched Marty and Karl doing everything Dr. Brackett was ordering over the bio-phone, and was silently grateful he was not in charge. Sitting there, comforting his friend, was all he could accomplish at the moment.
Johnny could hear Roy speaking, but it all faded in and out. He wanted to tell Roy everything that happened, wanted to know if Mike and Cap were safe, wanted to know if Jordan was dead, but he couldn't summon the strength. Within minutes Rampart was in sight and Roy reassured John that all would soon be well.
"Hey, we're here, John, it's gonna be okay," he murmured.
"Iah, uhh,ih..." Johnny responded. The movement of the gurney being removed from the ambulance and rolled into the E.R., brought a surge of bile to Johnny's throat, which threatened to launch. Being face-down and wearing an oxygen mask was definitely not the position to be in should that occur, and Johnny started to panic as he felt the gurney thump against the treatment room door. His fingers fluttered and he grasped weakly at the sheet covering the gurney's mattress. With as much effort as he could expend at that moment, John moved his hand enough so that Roy would notice.
Seeing his partner's distress, Roy leaned down, "Johnny? You gonna hurl?" he asked.
"Uhhh...yeh...Rrrro...," he slurred from under the mask. Soon the mask was removed, there was a pan under his chin and Dixie stood by with a suction wand. The vomiting was excruciatingly painful and Johnny passed out from the struggle.
Roy stood and stared at Johnny's bruised and battered body and felt his muscles tense with the rage that was building inside. He balled his fists and clenched his teeth and tried in vain to slow his rapid breathing. Dixie placed a hand on Roy's shoulder and he turned to her with wide, angry eyes.
"Where is he?" Roy asked, "Where's Jordan? If he's not already dead, I swear, I'll kill him."