"Squad 51. Unknown type rescue. 118 Califon St. One-one-eight Califon St. Cross street Martin. Time out 17:27."

Roy cut the siren as he pulled up to the curb. The front lawn consisted of overgrown weeds and the place looked extremely rundown and deserted. Roy turned off the engine, eyeing the structure uneasily. "This doesn't look good."

"Yeah. It looks kind of like a spook house."

"Maybe we'd better not go in." Roy noticed that the groups of trick-or-treating children going up and down the street made no attempt to approach the house at this address. "Or, at least call dispatch and get the engine to assist."

Johnny called dispatch, explained their reservations and listened while they contacted the engine, which had been out on a different run. They both listened to the radio chatter.

"Engine 51, what is your status?"

"Engine 51, available."

"Assist Squad 51 at 118 Califon St. One-one-eight Califon St. Cross street Martin. LA County Sheriff's Department has also been notified."

"10-4. Instruct Squad 51 to wait for backup. ETA is ten minutes."

The appearance of a disheveled woman on the porch helped change the two paramedics' minds about the legitimacy of the call. "Are you the paramedics?" she called, as she pushed the stringy blond hair out of her eyes.

"See? Spook house. There's the witch," Johnny muttered as he got out of the cab to open the equipment bays.

"Johnny," Roy admonished quietly before responding to the woman, "Yes, ma'am. What seems to be the problem?"

"It's, uh, my husband. He's not feeling well. Please hurry." The woman wrung her hands, her eyes darting nervously between the two men. She looked anxious and a little strung out.

Johnny reached back into the cab for the radio. "LA, this is Squad 51. We have the wife of the victim on the scene and we are preparing to treat."

As the paramedics approached bearing their equipment, the woman abruptly turned and said, "This way. He's in the garage out back."

Exchanging a wary glance, Roy and Johnny followed the woman around the side of the house and down a long stretch of weed-choked gravel, which was once a driveway. The trail led to a decrepit structure that looked like it must have been a garage at one time, before it started to decay. The door squeaked on its hinges as she pushed it open. "He's right over there," she said, gesturing into the gloom. Roy took a step closer and tried to peer through the dusty light to the spot that the woman seemed to be indicating. Both men froze as they heard the click of a shotgun bolt settling home.

"Go right inside, boys," a voice behind them sneered.

"Oh, shit. I'm sorry, Roy," Johnny said softly as the chill of recognition shot through him.

"Quit yer yappin' skinny boy, and get inside," snarled Barnes, shoving the shotgun into Johnny's back.

"When do I get what you promised me?" whined the woman. "I did what you said. I need it now."

"Shut up, bitch." Barnes fished in his pocket with his left hand. He tossed a packet over his shoulder without looking back at the woman. "Here. Now go away."

The woman scrabbled for the packet and then looked uncertainly at the two paramedics. "What are you going to do to them?"

"None of your damned business. I said 'git!'" She scurried away like a frightened mouse taking an unexpected prize to her nest.

"Stop! That's far enough. You just put that stuff down nice and easy. Turn off those handie-talkies. That's right. No sudden moves. Nobody gets hurt. Yet." He started to laugh wickedly at his own joke. He stopped just as suddenly. "Put your hands up where I can see them and don't move."

After the two paramedics complied, Barnes grinned, "So nice of you to drop by."

Roy glanced over at Johnny, whose face still registered a mixture of shock and fear. Swallowing his own fear, Roy asked nervously, "Well, we're here. What, uh, what do you want?"

"Your partner there knows what I want, dontcha skinny boy?" Barnes kept the shotgun level with Johnny's chest.

Johnny shook his head minutely. "Barnes, don't do this, man. Please don't do this."

Barnes smirked at Roy. "He'll do whatever I tell him." Still smirking, he turned his attention on Johnny. "Well, come on, skinny boy!" Barnes grinned, arms spread wide. "Make yourself comfortable. Get those clothes off."

Seeing a slight movement from Roy, Barnes immediately brought the gun back around, this time aiming at Roy, and pulled back on the hammer. "You don't move until I say so!" Then taking a step back, he pointed the barrel once again at Johnny. "Hurry up!"

Dazedly, breathing too fast, Johnny reached his hands up to unfasten his shirt as Barnes watched. He had been so afraid that this would happen. And, now it was happening. Fear made his fingers clumsy as he fumbled with the top button. Evil amusement glinted in Barnes' eyes. Johnny paused, closed his eyes and counted to himself in Japanese. Opening his eyes, he slowly lowered his hands, forcing the rising fear back down as well. "No." He knew the engine would be arriving in a few minutes. All he had to do was stall Barnes long enough.

Barnes eyes narrowed. "You grow a spine or somethin'?" He sucked his teeth. "I saw you takin' those kung fu classes. Ain't gonna do you no good. You're nothing but a coward. I whupped your sorry ass before and I'll do it again."

"You'll have to kill me first this time." He shivered a little as he said the words, knowing the high probability of just that happening. He did not want to die, but he refused to submit again without a fight.

"Oh, no, skinny boy. Not first. Second. You're gonna watch your partner die, first. But, he's gonna watch you go down on me, first. He's gonna watch you beg me, first. He's gonna listen to you scream, first. Then you're gonna watch him, before I kill him."

The words horrified Johnny and twisted his gut with fear. He knew the words were true. He knew Barnes could do all those things. The only hope lay in talking, in stalling long enough for the engine and the police to arrive, and he seized upon it desperately. Every second he could stall was one second closer to being rescued. He forced himself to speak slowly. "What are you doing, Barnes? Think about it. So far they only have you on false alarms and Dumpster fires. You know I'm not going to press assault charges. You don't want kidnapping and murder charges, man. They only got you for Dumpster fires. Walk away now, man, before it's too late."

Barnes laughed mirthlessly. "It's already too late. The minute you decided to squeal it was too late." Barnes glanced over his shoulder at Roy. "And speaking of squealing, he does that pretty good. He's a real screamer. Did he tell you about that?" Barnes laughed again, seeing the shocked realization on Roy's face, and then continued to speak to Johnny. "You see, skinny boy, I've got a record now. Didn't you wonder where I was all this time?

Johnny shook his head mutely.

"I was in jail, more thanks to you." Pointing the shotgun back at Roy, Barnes snarled, "You do what I say now, or he's dead."

"Johnny, don't!"

Barnes swung the butt of the weapon around, smashing it into Roy's face, opening a jagged gash on his cheek and knocking him to the ground. "You shut up, unless you want to be first!" He then kicked Roy in the stomach to emphasize his point, while reversing the shotgun around and pressing it against the downed paramedic's head.

Johnny started to move in on Barnes when the crazed man first began to attack Roy, but stopped as soon as Barnes held the gun to Roy's head. Barnes looked over his shoulder at Johnny and roared, "Do it, now!"

Johnny hesitated less than a fraction of a second before he started unbuttoning his shirt with a newfound calmness, the decision now simple to make. His partner's life was infinitely more important than his fear and shame in having to submit to Barnes.

"No!" Roy gasped weakly in protest, as he lay curled up on the floor.

Johnny glanced at his partner and he shook his head imperceptibly. He could live with the consequences of submitting to Barnes. He could not live with allowing Roy to die.

"Aw, well ain't that touching." Sarcasm dripped from Barnes' voice. "You two are a couple of fucking fairies." He laughed nastily. "Might be kind of fun to watch."

Rage swept over Johnny's features and he took a step closer to Barnes, hands fisted at his sides. "You are really one sick bastard, Barnes. You'd better make damned sure you kill me this time, or, I swear, I'll kill you!"

Barnes eyes narrowed again, considering the man standing before him. He wore a bemused expression on his face. Apparently this was not the reaction he expected . He tapped the shotgun against Roy's head. "Hurry up! I ain't gonna say it again, skinny boy. Take 'em off. Now."

Johnny could sense that Barnes was nearing the snapping point and didn't want to do anything to further aggravate him while the gun was pressed against Roy's head. He couldn't imagine what kept the engine from arriving already. Johnny slowly removed his uniform shirt and dropped it on the ground. He forced himself to settle down, remembering the words of Ishii Sensei. "If angry, lose already. If calm, maybe win." He spoke softly, pleadingly. "Come on, Barnes. Don't do this, man. Please. Let him go. He's bleeding." Johnny glanced at Roy, whose half-closed eyes looked unfocused; he appeared to be dazed from the blow to the head. Stretching a hand to his partner, he said, "At least let me…"

Barnes cut him off. "Quit your stalling!"

Johnny backed several steps away from Barnes and his hands trembled as he fumbled with the buckle on his belt.

Misinterpreting what appeared to be a rising fear in his victim, Barnes let the shotgun drop away from Roy's head and took a step nearer to Johnny.

"Don't do this. Please."

Barnes laughed and he closed the distance between them. "What's the matter, skinny boy? Scared?" His hands reached for Johnny's belt buckle and finished undoing it. Johnny deliberately held still, hands at his side, as Barnes touched him. Barnes laughed, seemingly pleased with the lack of resistance. He removed his hands from Johnny's waist and instead pushed on his shoulders, forcing Johnny to his knees. The look of revulsion that crossed Johnny's face made Barnes cackle again. "Do it!" Barnes froze as he heard the sounds of a siren winding down followed by tires crunching on gravel and the hissing of air brakes. "What the fuck did you do?" He bellowed, kicking Johnny in the stomach and shoving him back with a booted foot.

"Nothing. The engine rolled on the call with us," he gasped, rolling away.

Barnes brought the shotgun up over his head with both hands, intending to wield it like a club on the paramedic. Events started to move in slow motion for Johnny. Seeing an opening that looked just like something he had practiced in karate, Johnny lunged upward into Barnes, blocking with his left arm and delivering a punch with his right fist. As Barnes staggered backwards, Johnny followed with two more punches and a roundhouse kick to Barnes' face. Barnes countered by swinging the gun like a baseball bat, landing a blow on Johnny's ribs. Grinning through the blood that ran down his face from a cut above his eye, Barnes jeered, "So, you want to play rough, skinny boy?" His foot shot out and swept Johnny's feet out from under him. Johnny hit the ground as he had been taught and then quickly rolled into a crouch, eyes still on Barnes' face. Barnes once again raised the shotgun like a club over his head.

"Police! Freeze!" yelled a voice through the doorway.

Ignoring the warning, Barnes swung it down in an arc toward Johnny, who managed to dodge out of the way.

"Freeze!" came the warning once again.

Barnes raised the gun for another swing and a shot rang out, hitting Barnes in the chest, and he dropped to the floor.

Time speeded back up just then, as several police officers rushed into the building. In the confusion, Johnny grabbed the trauma box, knelt beside the semi-conscious Roy, and began to administer emergency first aid. He barely noticed when Cap and the others came in to assist him.