"What happened back there?" Desoto demanded anger fighting for dominance over concern for his best friend.

"It appears one of the men who mugged you shot and killed his partner, the one wearing your shirt. The man said his name was Roy Desoto and another paramedic identified him as you. Rarely does a dying man give a false name. The Fire Department verified you'd worked today, but had been sent home. It was an honest mistake. With that type of evidence most detectives would go with their guts. I've sent them to make a proper identification, and get everything straight." Crockett answered. He wasn't going to tell him about Joanne possibly being notified of his death, if the officers were stopped in time, then no harm. If not, he'd given orders to deal with the aftermath. "How's Gage?"

Roy shook his head in disgust, then turned back to his partner to collect a new set of vitals. "Better." He called the new information into Rampart.

"Did you know he'd been injured?" Crockett asked. Desoto was smart, and if his attention wasn't diverted, he'd start asking questions the Lieutenant wasn't prepared to answer.


Several hours ago

Johnny's face was above him with his mouth moving, but Roy couldn't hear anything. Once in Vietnam, he'd been too close to a grenade explosion; thirty-six hours later his hearing returned. His right hand went to rub his forehead, but Johnny intercepted the hand and forced it back down. "Can't hear. Ears ringing," Roy said at what he hoped was close to a normal tone. His partner must have understood because he nodded his head. "I'm okay otherwise." He attempted to sit up, only to have both of his shoulders firmly held down with Johnny shaking his head no.

"Rampart, Squad 51," the phone handle of the Biophone held between his shoulder and ear as he scribbled notes in his pad.

"Go ahead, 51," Doctor Early's voice came across the radio.

"Have a male, thirty one years of age, shot at close range. The bullet creased the forehead, the patient is unable to hear due to ringing in the ears. Bleeding under control. Blood pressure is 130/78, pulse 88, respirations 22. Prior to being shot the victim was pistol whipped to the same side of the head," Gage reported keeping an eye on his partner. Ever the professional, he strived to keep the emotion out of his voice.

"Any loss of consciousness?"

"Possibly less than two minutes, but can't confirm at this time."

"Continue to monitor vitals and transport as soon as possible," Early ordered. He'd listened to the call for an ambulance and police on the scanner, the stress in Gage's voice suggested that the patient was his partner.

Gage kept watch in case the dynamic duo returned, glad when two police cars rolled into the lot. Vince stepped out of his vehicle first, seeing the relief wash over his friend. Why were they in white t-shirts and not uniform shirts?

"John, what happened?" The paramedic relayed the details of the holdup, giving a description of the criminals and get-away truck. Vince placed an all-points bulletin out before returning and kneeling next to John and Roy. "How's he doing?"

"Better, I'm beginning to hear," Roy said lifting his head shaking it slightly.

His statement met with a full Gage grin, "Good. Ambulance will be here in a couple of minutes."

"I don't need an ambulance. Why don't we take the squad?" Roy groused pushing up on his elbows.

"You were shot in the head, you're going by ambulance," Johnny's tone left no room for argument. Roy looked over at Vince for help with pleading eyes.

"I'm with your partner on this one. Besides, crime scene will need to go over the squad to lift finger prints from the suspects. It's going to be tied up for a few hours," the police officer said.

Roy knew this was a no-win situation and laid his head back down with a sigh. He rubbed his eyes, the pounding behind them worse than he'd felt since nearly being blown up in Nam.

"Did you lose consciousness at all?"

"No, stunned but never blacked out," Roy said gratefully; if he'd lost consciousness that would mean an automatic overnight stay in Hotel Rampart.

As Johnny updated the hospital, with a new set of vitals and consciousness state an ambulance pulled up close to the squad. The attendants placed Roy on the stretcher and covered him with the tan blanket. Johnny began closing up the drug box.

"John, you said one of the suspects rifled the box, we're going to need that as evidence and dust it for prints," Vince said putting a hand on the paramedics shoulder to stop him.

"After I get Roy to the hospital. He's stable now, but if I need something this is the only supply we have. None of the other medications were damaged, so they're still okay to use until we get replacements," John countered continuing to close the box. "I promise no one else will touch the box, but it's going with me."

"Tell you what, I'll ride in with you to keep the chain of custody intact. Once we reach the hospital, I'll take the box," Vince offered understanding the dilemma.

"All right, that works," John gave him a nod and climbed into the ambulance with the policeman on his heels.


Current time

"Roy."

"Yeah, I'm right here partner," Roy moved into John's line of sight. "How are you feeling?"

"What happened?" Johnny was looking around the ambulance when his eyes landed on the detective.

"You passed out on us. You're going to be fine." Roy answered.

"Why would anyone think I could hurt my partner?" he directed his question to the police officer.

"Case of mistaken identity. I'm sorry about that," Crockett said sincerity clear in his voice. "Once we identify the deceased, the other one won't take long to apprehend. We have your badge secured, Roy."

"Yeah, but it'll be tied up for how long with the court proceedings?" Roy asked grateful that at least it was found. Crockett shrugged his shoulders understanding the predicament. A fire department badge was a sacred as a police badge. To have one stolen invited all types of trouble.

Roy turned back to his patient. "How are you doing?"

Johnny placed his left arm over his eyes, "Tired." The ambulance made the turn into the hospital and backed into an open space.

"We're here, and you can rest soon," Roy moved to allow the attendants to pull the gurney out, and then walked alongside his best friend to treatment room two. The detective parted their company in search for a phone to call his boss. While Johnny was moved to the exam table, Roy hung the IV on the pole.

"How are you feeling?" Doctor Early asked taking his penlight out and shining it in Gage's eyes checking pupil reaction. Both eyes responded normally.

"Fine. Can I go now?" Johnny answered with a half grin.

Early snorted. "How about we check you out first? Did you hit your head?" Johnny asking to leave was a good sign, and the doctor hid his amusement at the request.

"No," he squinted trying to wash away the effects of the penlight.

"Blood pressure is 100/70, pulse 68, and respirations 16," Dixie said leaving the cuff on her patient's arm for easy rechecking.

Early nodded his head then lifted Gage's shirt. "How did this happen?" He gently palpated the bruised area.

"Guy got a lucky shot in with the trauma box, and I ended up pinned between it and the squad. I didn't blackout at all," Johnny answered making a face when the doctor touched a particularly painful place.

"You should have told us," Roy said still standing at the head of the table.

"Didn't think it was that bad," John answered sheepishly. Truthfully, he'd forgotten about the injury being so concerned about Roy. They were back at the station before the pain made itself known again, all he wanted to do was go home and rest. Roy harrumphed giving his partner a glare.

"We need x-rays. Thought I sent you home, Roy," Early raised an eyebrow at the senior paramedic.

"The police wanted statements first. We were finishing when a couple more detectives showed up at the station to arrest Johnny for my murder," Roy said with disgust.

Both Dixie and Early's eyes widened in surprise. "Your murder?" Dixie gasped.

"Yeah, seems the partners who robbed us turned on each other and the one wearing Roy's shirt was killed. You know Roy, they did kinda resemble us. Same body builds and hair color," Johnny said looking at his friend.

"That's where the resemblance ended. The idea someone thought you'd shoot me," Roy shook his head, the anger at the situation hadn't dissolved yet. It would take him some time to work this out, and he would have his turn chewing out the two bumbling detectives.

"Never. Besides I hate guns!" Johnny said a little too forcefully for his ribs as he moved a hand to protect the bruised area.

"That's the silliest thing ever," Dixie declared. "Everyone knows you'd never hurt Roy. Or him you."

The x-ray technician entered the room, Early gave orders for chest films, and the rest of the medical staff left the room making their way to the nurses' station. As they arrived, the base station warning light came on with squad 99 calling in with a case, Early immediately went into the room to take the call. Dixie gave Roy a look to ensure he'd be all right. She wanted to know more of what happened but duty called. Roy nodded his head in understanding. He wasn't sure he could explain any more than what had been already said. The whole day made little sense, and his head was pounding. He wanted to rest, see his sweet wife, take the medicine prescribed, and sleep for a week. Would the nightmare of today ever end? His adrenaline rush when Johnny succumbed to shock was wearing off, and he didn't know if there was any reserves left in him. He leaned back allowing the wall to hold him up.

Two men wearing suits flanking a woman with light brown hair entered through the main emergency room entrance. She stopped a few feet inside watching the man who had his back against the wall. A bandage covered his forehead, and his eyes closed, obviously tired. She took several steps closer, her voice shaky, "Roy."

Roy opened his eyes to see his wife standing in front of him. "Joanne?"

Her bottom lip quivered as she fought to retain her composure. She went to him wrapping her arms around his body as his arms came around her shoulders pulling her to him protectively.

"Honey," he felt her shoulders shake and tightened his hold on the only woman he'd ever loved.

"They…they…said you died," she said into his shoulder as her tears began to flow. Holding on to him tightly she cried, her entire body trembling.

"I'm all right. Shhhhh….it's all right. Everything's okay. I'm fine," he held her close as she wept whispering into her ear how much he loved her.

Her composure regained, she looked up at his face, never letting her grip on him to lessen. "They said Johnny murdered you," Joanne's face still looked haunted and needed reassurance.

"I'm so sorry Jo," he leaned in and kissed her gently. "Johnny didn't hurt me at all."

"What happened?" Embracing him in her arms, feeling his chest rise and fall with each breath, his blue eyes staring back at her was comforting. The fear she lived with each day he went to work, that he might never come home again presented its ugly self, full force with the proclamation from the police. Her mind couldn't comprehend how such a thing could happen. Every day when he left for work, she'd give him a kiss and hug, then as she watched him drive away, say a prayer for him to come home to her.

"It's a long story. Let's sit down," he kept an arm around his wife leading her to the doctor's lounge. She entered first, and Roy looked back down the hallway glaring at the three detectives standing near the nurses' station. How dare the police screw up so badly that they upset Joanne. It was bad enough attempting to arrest John, but to put his wife through her worst nightmare was unforgivable. He closed the door behind him and joined Joanne on the couch taking her into his arms. When the robbery went bad, he momentarily thought he'd never see his wife again, and needed this time with her as much as she needed to be with him.


"I can't believe Gage killed Desoto. When we rode with them a couple of months ago, I never got the impression there was bad blood," George* said as he closed the door to the KMMX Channel 8 News station wagon. He opened the back door pulling his camera bag off the seat.

"You and me both. But a lot can happen over a few weeks. Canton has the lead on the story, but maybe we can still get part of the opening news credits with interviews from the nurses and doctors in the emergency room that worked with Desoto," Paula Hughes gave her mirror one last check. One way or another, she would be in on the hottest story in weeks, 'Murder at the Fire Department'.


* Episode On Camera