"Godzilla and The Smog Monster"
Chapter Twelve
Brice backed their rescue truck into Station 16's parking bay and killed its engine.
Gage reluctantly reached for the vehicle's dash-mounted radio. "LA, Squad 16. Available at quarters," he reported and quickly replaced the mic'.
"10-4, Squad 16…"
John yawned…and stretched…and groaned, as all that stretching caused his sore ribs to smart some. Midway out his door, the overly-fatigued fireman finally realized something. "Da-amn! The police have my wallet!"
"If they can't be trusted with it," Craig wondered, "who can?"
"That's not the point. My badge and my I.D. are in my wallet." He suddenly recalled something else and made a mad grab for Garnett's assessment kit. Greg's shears, bandage scissors, Kelly forceps and splinter forceps were all missing. The holster was completely empty. The cops had even confiscated his penlight! "Da-amn!"
"Welcome back, boys!" fireman Curtis Hill greeted his returning shiftmates. "Did the police catch the guys that were layin' for yous?"
Brice nodded.
"They got my wallet, too!" Gage griped. "First, I have my badge—but no uniform. Now, I'll have my uniform—but no badge."
Hill shot the forlorn fireman a sympathetic glance, and then remembered something, himself. "Oh. Yeah. The Cap' wants to see you two in his office—right away."
"Tell 'im I'll be there in a couple a' minutes," Gage requested. "I wanna change before we get another ru—"
"—He, uh, sort a' gave me the impression that he wanted to see you before you change," Hill hinted.
John heaved a heavy sigh of disappointment and reluctantly followed his partner over to Mason's office.
The two men found the Captain on the phone.
Craig tapped on the open door's frame and called out, "You wanted to see us, Sir?"
Mason nodded and motioned for them to enter. "Hang on, Captain. They just walked through the door." He placed a hand over the phone's mouthpiece. "I've got some police Captain on the line demanding to know why his department was never informed of our department's 'undercover firemen' operation."
The two paramedics exchanged looks of utter astonishment…and then stood there, gritting their teeth and pursing their lips—rather tightly.
"I told him I didn't know what 'operation' he was referring to," the Captain continued. "The guy claims his men reported that there was an undercover fireman working out of Station 16. I assured the Captain that his men must be mistaken, because we don't have any 'undercover firemen' working out of Station 16. Do we!" he ordered more than asked.
"Uh-uh…No. No-o. Of course not, Cap!" John obediently replied.
"Ga-age, you have no idea how relieved I am to hear you say that." The Captain uncovered the mouthpiece and was about to converse with the cop…when the claxons sounded.
"Station 16…Engine 10…Structure fire…"
Mason hung up on his police counterpart, without saying goodbye.
All three firemen hurried from the office.
The paramedics piled back into their truck.
Brice took their copy of the call slip from the Captain and passed it to his partner.
Gage glanced at his watch, recorded the time, and then clipped the slip to the dashboard. "I hope you know where 1424 East Ames is," he stated, sounding every bit as weary as he looked, "because I have no idea how to get there…"
Craig gave his tired partner a sympathetic glance, and a nod. He pulled the Squad out of the parking bay and immediately made a right.
Engine 16 followed the smaller vehicle into the darkened street in front of the Station.
Then both fire trucks headed off into the night—their lights flashing and their sirens wailing.
Station 16 arrived at the incident scene in under six minutes.
1424 East Ames turned out to be a four-story brick office building.
The fire had already vented itself and smoke was billowing from several of the structure's popped first floor windows.
An annoying 'clanging/whining' racket filled the air, as the building's fire alarms—and every smoke alarm in the place—wailed their distinctive warnings that something was burning.
The firemen bailed out of their respective trucks and began donning their self-contained breathing apparatus.
Captain Mason pulled an HT from his coat pocket and thumbed its call button. "LA, Engine 16. We have smoke visible at this address. Respond a third alarm…"
"10-4, Engine 16…"
Mason pocketed the radio and started issuing orders to his crew.
Gage was standing in front of the compartment containing his air-pack, impatiently waiting for Brice to unlock the door. "C'mon, will yah!"
"It's not locked!" Craig called back, from the opposite side of the truck.
John's right eyebrow arched. He grabbed the handle latch and pulled. The compartment door swung open. "I don't mind you forgetting to lock them, as long you don't forget to tell me you forgot to lock them."
Brice came trotting around the back of the Squad, with his air-pack already in place. "I didn't forget to lock them," he corrected. "I decided to unlock them, and merely neglected to mention it to you."
Gage finished donning his SCBA. "Bu-ut…what about Departmental Regulations?"
Craig gave his companion's left shoulder a couple of comforting pats. "I wouldn't worry too much about them, if I were you. After all, they don't actually come right out and 'say' compartments, now, do they."
The corners of John's mouth turned up ever so slightly. "No-o. No. I guess they don't," he was forced to admit.
Craig gave his partner's shoulder a final pat and then the two men started trotting over to Engine 16, to receive their orders.
"Do me a favor, huh?" John requested, along the way. "Next time you see Melanie, I want you to give her a BIG kiss for me. Okay?" He saw that his partner wasn't quite sure what to make of his odd request and added, "Well, you wouldn't want me to give it to her. Would you?"
Melanie's fiancé was forced to grin.
"You two!" Mason shouted, as his paramedic team came trotting up, "Go make sure everyone's left the office party! And see what you can do about those damn alarms!" he added with a wince.
The paramedics nodded their compliance to their Captain's orders. Then they donned their facemasks and followed several charged hose lines into the burning building.
The two men found and reset the main "Fire Alarm" box—mercifully putting an end to the infernal 'clanging'. The smoke alarms' ear-piercing 'whines' would have to be silenced one-by-one, as they swept through the building.
Speaking of sweeping through the building...
The firemen stepped into an open elevator on the burning structure's smoky first floor.
Gage inserted a master key, set the Fire Service switch to "ON", and then pressed 4.
Brice held the "DOOR CLOSE" button down until the elevator's doors slid completely shut.
They started up.
"How do you wanna handle this?" John inquired of his fellow sweeper.
"We'll be able to cover more ground, more quickly, if we split up," his partner replied. "I generally prefer to work alone. I find that I can search faster—and more efficiently—when there is no one along to slow me up."
Gage gazed disbelievingly out at Brice through his facemask. "Whatever gave me the impression that you were conceited?" he teased and then immediately tacked on, "I'll race yah down!"
"Whatever gave me the impression that you were immature?" Brice teased right back. "No contest! I'll take odds. You take evens?"
"Fine! And the last one down is a rotten egg!"
Craig transferred their HT from his coat pocket to his partner's. "I'll call you from the Squad…to check on your progress."
John snickered.
The elevator stopped.
Brice pressed the "DOOR OPEN" button until its doors slid fully open.
Gage set the Fire Service switch back to "OFF" and returned the master key to Garnett's coat pocket.
The two men stepped out onto the relatively smoke-free top floor.
Craig watched his partner go skipping off down the hall. He grinned and headed for the stairwell to the third floor—at a rather high rate of speed.
Gage may have won the round.
But Brice intended to win the race.
John found most of the doors on the building's fourth floor locked. Locked doors meant that he could sweep the floor a whole lot faster. He'd found a bucket in one of the utility closets he'd checked, and he stood on it to disengage the blaring smoke alarms' batteries. Finally, the completely empty fourth floor was completely quiet. The sweeper snatched his step-bucket back up and bolted for the stairs.
As Gage searched the second floor, he again found most of the business offices to be locked.
He grabbed another knob on yet another door and tried it. Much to his dismay, it turned and the portal clicked open to reveal a large, dark office. The racing fireman frowned and reluctantly stepped into the room—to sweep it. He spotted a strip of light, coming from under the door to another, inner office and his frown deepened.
John shone his light over the outer office—er, the empty outer office. Then he stepped up to the inner office's door and banged on it with the butt of his flashlight. "Fire Department!" he called out, over the blaring of the smoke alarms that were sounding out in the hall. "Anybody in there?"
No one answered.
So he tried the knob. It turned and the portal clicked open. The fireman stepped inside—to search the inner room. Suddenly, he stiffened.
A man in a beige business suit was bent over an office desk, rifling through an enormous stack of papers.
'Humph,' the paramedic mused. 'I guess everyone hasn't left the office party. And I thought firemen were the only ones who had to work tonight.' "Sir? SI-IR?" he shouted louder, when the busy fellow failed to respond. "That noise you hear is the building's smoke alarms! There is a fi-ire in the building, and you are gonna hafta leave!" Gage exhaled an annoyed gasp, as the guy just continued to completely ignore him. "Mister! Are you DEAF?" The fireman suddenly realized something and his anger left him. "You probably a-are…" John set his light and chalk down on the floor, freeing his hands to 'sign'.
The guy behind the desk finally found what he'd been searching for and started heading for the door. He caught his first glimpse of the fireman—and his face filled with alarm.
Gage straightened up and started to sign 'fire'.
The guy in the business suit panicked and pulled a handgun from his coat pocket.
'Ah-ah shit!' the fireman thought, as the weapon was pulled and then pointed in his direction. 'I must a' walked in on a burglary or somethin'…' His blood ran cold. His shaking hands stopped signing and started raising—in surrender. The barrel of the gun was now aimed directly at his head. 'That can't be good.' That could never be good! "No-o! Plea-ease? Don—"
'—BLA-AM!'
John saw the muzzle flash and heard a deafeningly LOUD explosion. He tried to duck, but something struck his left temple. There was another explosion—of brilliant light—in his brain, and then…nothing. The bullet's impact threw Gage back against the door. His limp body sagged slowly to the floor and then slumped sideways. The panicked paramedic's pleas for his life...had fallen on deaf ears.
The gunman stood over the fireman's motionless body, looking more alarmed than ever.
TBC