DETOUR
by ardavenport
- - - part 3
"Sorry about that Fifty-One. We've got calls coming in from Squads Sixty-Two and Thirty-Eight. Please repeat the vital signs."
Roy felt a thrill of hope as he repeated the vitals. There weren't any Squads Sixty-Two and Thirty-Eight. And Brackett never asked for him to repeat vital signs.
They knew.
"Is there an exit wound, Fifty-One?"
Roy's eyes flicked toward Jack. The gun still at his temple, Johnny didn't move, but his dark eyes locked on his for a second. He'd heard Brackett on the biophone. He knew. Rampart knew they were in trouble.
"That's negative Rampart. Victim appears to have lost about a liter of blood, but most of the bleeding appears to have stopped."
"All right, apply a pressure bandage to the wound, start an IV with ringers lactate and transport as soon as possible."
"Ten-four, Rampart."
Roy opened the drug box and selected what he needed from it. He laid things out more carefully than he needed to. Time. Time. He needed time. Bandage, gauze, IV tubing, bag, needle. He kept his eyes on his work. Not on his left where a man held a gun to his partner's head. He treated the wound first. The blood pressure cuff was still on the man's arm. He swabbed down a good vein in the man's arm.
"What's that for?" Larry grimaced at him.
"It's to replace the fluids you've lost; keep you from going into shock."
"Yeah. Well . . . no drugs." His jaw clenched, obviously in pain. "They're not taking me back."
"All right. No drugs." Roy clipped a couple lengths of tape to hold the IV in place with.
"I'm not going back." Larry stared up at the ceiling, winced when Roy put the needle in, connected the tubing, adjusted the drip.
"I'm not going back."
%%##%%##%%
The phone rang.
Captain Stanley grabbed it.
"LA County Fire Department, Captain Stanley speaking."
Polishing the already very shiny chrome on Station Fifty-One's fire engine in the apparatus bay, Chet Kelly leaned back to better peer into Captain Kelly office.
"What?" Stanley sat forward, leaning on his desk, his expression disturbingly grave.
"Uh, huh. . . . . Yeah."
Lopez and Stoker came around where they had been keeping busy to peer into the Captain's office, too.
"Right. Thanks for calling." Stanley put the phone down. None of his men made any pretense of working as he walked up to them.
"That was dispatch." Stanley rubbed the back of his neck. "Looks like the Sheriff's Department is missing a couple of bank robbers. One of them got shot getting away and Fifty-One called in a gunshot wound. But the call didn't come from dispatch."
"But Cap . . . ." Kelly shook his head. "Are you saying that they're being held hostage somewhere by these guys?"
"That's what the Sheriff's deputies are assuming. For now."
Lopez asked the obvious. "Did they call Rampart? Can't they trace the call?
"Not on the biophone. The radio can't be traced."
His men exchanged worried expressions. And Captain Stanley didn't have anything to tell them. Or anything that they could do. "All we can do is wait."
%%##%%##%%
"Squad Fifty-One, do you have an ETA from your location?"
Brackett waited. But he didn't hear anything for several seconds. The Sheriff's
Department had sent a detective to take over for Officer Howard and he now leaned too close next to him.
"Uh, negative Rampart. We've got a . . . . delay on this end."
"Well, transport as soon as you can. And give us an update on his vital signs."
"Ten-four, Ra - - -"
"Fifty-One, say again. We lost you there."
Silence.
"Fifty-One, can you read me?"
Silence. Not even static.
Frowning, the deputy stood back. He was middle aged with sandy blonde hair and wearing a low-end gray suit.
"Looks like that's all we're getting."
"Sargent?" Behind them, Dixie held the phone receiver out to him. "They want to talk to you."
%%##%%##%%
Roy stared up at the gun pointing down at him. The biophone lay on the floor where Jack had pushed it after ripping the receiver from his hand and flicking the off switch.
"That's enough stalling with the doctor for now."
Still holding the IV bag in one hand, Roy held up his other hand in surrender. "I - I wasn't stalling. He just needed to - - ."
Jack put the barrel of the gun on Roy's forehead.
"Shut up."
Roy said nothing. He could hear his heart suddenly pounding. The gun metal pressed cold and heavy on his skin. Did it feel the same for Johnny, at the back of his head?
"Now don't pretend that you and your partner aren't thinking every second about how to get out of this. I'll save you a little trouble. Don't. Don't do anything we don't tell you to do. And nobody gets shot."
Jack pulled the gun back but kept it loosely pointed at Roy as he walked backward and sat in a worn chair that matched the couch.
"Better do as he says." Roy looked to the wounded man lying on the couch. "He gets upset when people don't do what he tells them." There was no threat in Larry's voice. His tone seemed even friendly. Roy answered quietly.
"Look Larry, I know you and your friend are desperate. But you've got a very serious injury. You really need to get to a hospital. If that wound gets infected you could lose the leg. I can only do so much for you here. I'm sure that . . . something can be arranged."
Larry rolled his head to look up at the ceiling. "You know, I know that you're just doing job. But Jack and I, we're not going back to jail. The cops aren't giving us any second chances. So, do yourself a favor." Larry turned his head. His brown eyes had gone cold and cruel. "Don't ever say that again. Just do what Jack tells you to."
Roy swallowed. "Okay."
The expression in the wounded man's eyes softened. "That's right. Stay afraid. Keep yourself alive. Right now, you've still got a better chance of getting out of this than we do."
%%##%%##%%
Nobody pretended to do anything other than wait and worry at Station Fifty-One. The TV set was on, but nobody was really watching. Stanley would have appreciated a run. A structure fire. A traffic accident. Even a piddling little burning dumpster would have been a welcome distraction for the engine crew.
Everyone in the day room jumped when the wall phone rang. Stanley stood up from the kitchen table and answered it. Marco hurried to turn off the TV.
"LA County Fire Department, Captain Stanley speaking."
"Captain Stanley, this is Chief Houts."
"Yes, Sir." Stanley stood up straighter and took a breath. The head of the whole Fire Department would not be calling him with good news.
"The Sheriff's Department still doesn't have a location for your men; they think they're still being held hostage."
Stanley let his breath out. That meant still alive.
"Unfortunately they broke contact with Rampart. They've also got a probable I.D. for the bank robbers. The descriptions of them matches those a couple of escaped convicts from up north. One of them has a brother in the area and they're following up some leads on where they might be."
"I see, Sir." Stanley's eyes flicked to the rest of the room. Then away from the worried stares there and down at the white linoleum floor. "Can you tell me what these men were in jail for?"
"They were both convicted of armed robbery and second degree murder. One of them was also convicted of first degree murder." Houts paused. "Captain Stanley, I don't mean to pretend that this situation is any less serious than it is. But I can assure you that the Sheriff's Department is treating this as if this were two of their own."
"Yes, Sir. I understand." Stanley nodded, clutching the phone tightly to his ear. He understood. There was still nothing they could do.
"We'll call when we know more." Stanley could hear the relief in the Chief's voice that this call was nearly over.
"We appreciate that, Sir. Thank-you."
Stanley hung up. Then he faced his men.
"It just keeps getting better." He exhaled. "They still don't know where Gage and DeSoto are. And they lost contact with them at Rampart."
The wooden chair scraped loudly as Kelly pulled it back to sit down at the table.
"And they think that the missing bank robbers are a couple of escaped convicts. They're tracking down some leads about where they might be."
There was too much bad news at once. Stanley left to wait in his office.
- - - End part 3